Disclaimer: This is my first story, so bear with me-- the story's been in my mind for a while. It takes place after "Wilson's Heart," so if you haven't seen it stop reading. None of the "House" crew belong to me as they belong to the awesome people who dreamed them up. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

"Birth, and lust, and illness, and death are changeless things, and when one of these harsh facts springs out upon a man at some sudden turn of the path of life, it dashes off for the moment his mask of civilization and gives a glimpse of the stranger and stronger face below."

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "The Curse of Eve"

Lisa Cuddy was sitting at her desk, staring at her phone, deep in thought. It had been three weeks since Amber's death and two since Wilson had requested to come back to work. "It will help me take my mind off things," he told her. But she knew better. She should have insisted that he stay at home, take a vacation, forced him to take time to mourn. But as he stood in front of her, with tears in his eyes, broken, she couldn't refuse him. She agreed and let him come back before he was ready.

She shook her head, internally acknowledging her stupidity and useless guilt. And now, well, now he was... he was different. She knew what it was. She forced herself to stop thinking about the problem and go back to thinking about the solution.

House? Wilson hardly talked to House anymore. Sure, they would sit at the same table, eat lunch with her and engage in superficial pleasantries, but she knew it was only for her sake. Wilson (though he insisted to the contrary), hadn't forgiven House yet and House was still suffering from survivor's guilt (though he vehemently denied it). All her time in and out of the hospital was spent worrying about them, watching them. The last few days had become increasingly hard to handle.

House had all but proclaimed that she was his new best friend-- running in and out of her office to discuss everything from diagnoses to General Hospital, hunting her down to analyze all life's puzzles, sticking around (sometimes after hours) to drag her to a bar. She had to admit she enjoyed having House as a friend, crazy as it seemed, but in moderation. His neediness was starting to drive her up the wall.

Wilson was a different situation altogether. She had to seek him out; she had to beg him to do anything. And the harder she pulled, the farther he seemed to slip away. What other choice did she have? She was going to have to call. Obviously, she wasn't helping Wilson and House hardly gave her a moment to...

The door flung open and gently thudded against the wall before she could look up.

"You won't believe the night I had. I met this girl who did the most extraordinary thing with... Cuddy? Hey, Cuddy!"

She sighed heavily and raised her eyes to find Greg House standing in front of her, eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"House, there's no need to yell. I heard you," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"Liar. You were lost in thought--"

"No, I wasn't," she interrupted him. "You were about to tell me about some woman who could shoot Ping-Pong balls--"

"I was going to tell you about this girl who could do extraordinary things with a deck of cards. But your story sounds much more interesting," he finished, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"House, I really don't have time to--" mercifully, her statement was cut short by his pager.

"Just when we were getting to the good part. I've got to go save my patient from choking on own his tongue, but when I get back I want a full account with pictures!" he yelled over his shoulder as he hobbled out of her office. "Particularly, how it made you feel. Warm and gushy inside? Just gushy?"

"Good-bye, House," and she smiled in spite of herself.

With her distraction gone, Lisa's thoughts returned to Wilson. She moved closer to her desk and played with her necklace nervously. If she wanted to help him there was nothing else she could do. She shifted in her seat and before reaching to the phone, paused. What if she's wrong? Her suspicions could be wrong, couldn't they? There was a chance that... she shook her head. No. Not this time. She knew she was right even as she prayed she wasn't.

Lisa picked up the phone and dialed a number that she knew by heart. She felt like a such traitor as she punched the numbers. There was a chance Wilson would never forgive her. As she put the receiver to her ear, she decided she could live with that. What she could not live with was seeing him turn into House.