Remember December

Chapter 8

House did call Cuddy later that evening but their conversation was short and dry. He asked if she was feeling better, she said she was. He asked if she wanted to come out and have coffee with him to talk, and she told him, as honestly as she could, that she didn't think she was up for another conversation like the one they had that morning, that she would be alright and for him not to worry. His voice was wet with regret when he told her that he was sorry for the way he'd left things, and Cuddy, a little less honest this time, told him she understood.

After they hung up, Cuddy stared at the wall of her dorm for several minutes. She was done with crying and was now moving on to denial and repression. That was the last time they spoke until the day before classes were to start about a week later. House knocked on her door around six-thirty in the morning. A few minutes later Cuddy opened the door still groggy from sleep.

"What do you want?" She asked him.

"I thought you might want to go for a run," he noted her flannel pajamas and sleep mussed hair, "but it looks like you are slacking off in that department. Not smart. You've got a saucy bod now, but you're one of those girls, I can tell, you stop working out and bam! You'll blow up like a sausage."

"House—"

"Come on Cuddy," he pleaded.

"I'm not running today, I don't feel good. I think I've got the flu or something."

"Tomorrow then, if you're feeling better?"

Cuddy shook her head. "What are you doing House?"

He started at her for a second as if he didn't understand the question. "I just—I wanted to see you."

"Too bad. You can't have it both ways. You don't get to say you don't want to see me, and then turn around and say you miss me so now you want to see me."

"Why not?"

"what?" She wasn't sure if she had heard him right. Self-centered ass.

"Why can't I change my mind?"

"Because…because I don't want to be jerked around like that."

"That's not what I'm trying to do, I just miss you. How can you be mad at me for that?"

"Fine," she said a little softer. "You'll see me tomorrow. In class, as your student." She closed the door and padded back into bed.

The next morning Cuddy stood outside Dr. Somer's classroom for several minutes, trying to decide whether or not she should go inside or drop the class, run home and crawl back into bed. Cuddy looked at her watch and smiled at three girls who moved past her into the room.

A soft hand came down on her shoulder and Cuddy spun around to face Dr. Somers and House. "Aren't you going to take a seat Miss Cuddy?" His smile was warm, but his eyes were stern, and Cuddy couldn't quite be sure but she thought she detected a hint of patronism in his voice. As if her were saying, "I'll be watching you young lady."

She nodded, "Yes sir." Somers gave her a curt nod and then walked into the class room, House followed close behind, pausing to look back at Cuddy with a cocky smile.

"Yes, go take your seat Miss Cuddy," he said and then disappeared into the class.

Cuddy stepped into the class fuming. So that's it…he tried to be sweet and understanding, he tried to be honest and open, but Cuddy didn't buy it or wasn't having it. So he's going to his old fallback: tease her and treat her like crap. Whatever, Cuddy thought, let him take his best shot.

Cuddy made her way toward the back of the room and sat down beside a stiff looking young man with a pocket protector and behind a group of girls, who were giggling stupidly. Cuddy's stomach dropped when she realized what they were laughing about. The leader, Cuddy supposed, the one in the middle, a perky thing with fluffy hair, bright clothes and big eyes, was motioning toward House and smiling.

"He is so perfect, it should be criminal…" she was whispering.

"If he was so perfect," her friend was saying, "then he wouldn't have started ignoring you after he slept with you."

The fluffy haired girl rolled her eyes. "Well, this class seems like it's going to be some pretty tough stuff. Since Greg is the TA, I'll have to be spending lots of extra time with him outside of class so he can—" she smiled an insidious grin, "tutor me." She winked at her friends and Cuddy wanted to die.

I can't do this, she thought. He's whored himself around to every girl on this campus and I have to sit in class and listen to them laugh about it.

Dr. Somers wrote the course information on the board and then took his glasses off his wide face and cleared his throat. The class quieted down as he rubbed his glasses on a handkerchief and then placed them back on his nose. "This is Introduction to Diagnostic Medicine," he said in a flat voice. "I am Dr. Richard Somers, and this," he gestured back to House, "is Gregory House, he's a medical student and quite an accomplished pain in the ass," Cuddy smiled. She decided that she was going to like Dr. Somers. "Mr. House will be assisting in the course this semester, leading some discussions and working with you outside of class, that sort of thing. If you have any questions, or complaints about the work, you should direct them to him."

Cuddy frowned as the fluffy haired girl smiled and cast a knowing glance to her friend, while another girl sitting near them blushed and smiled at House. Cuddy shook her head and then spent the rest of the period shifting uncomfortably in her seat, watching the clock and waiting for the moment she could make a rush for the door.

She didn't look at House when he handed her the syllabus, and she only half listened as Dr. Somers described the work they would be doing this semester. He then turned to House and tossed him the piece of chalk he had been writing on the board with. "Mr. House is going to share with you a two year-old case in which the doctors who were treating the patient missed something in the patient history which was vital to solving the case. And saving the patient's life as it turned out. He died two days after his admission."

House moved to the front of the class. "Diagnostics is all about finding what's missing. Looking for what isn't there. If you assume that all your patients are going to tell you the truth because they want to get better, you're going to lose a lot of patients." House turned around and wrote a list of symptoms on the board. "45 year old male. Abdominal pain, headaches, blood in the urine, vomiting, and lower limb numbness." He turned back to the class. "What's missing?"

A smart looking guy in the front row piped up. "Blood tests? They would have tested him for drug and alcohol abuse on admittance."

House glanced over at Dr. Somers who nodded. "Drug test were positive for cocaine."

"Well there you go," the smart looking one said. "Cocaine abuse would account for all of those symptoms."

"Your theory is he can't move his legs because he's snorted too much cocaine and so now he's unconscious. That's good except it doesn't explain how he was able to lie to his doctors about not doing drugs in the first place," House said. The sixteen students in the class all looked nervously at one another. Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing.

"DVT," the girl, who earlier had been laughing about her past exploits with House, suggested, "If he's immobile for—". House rolled his eyes.

"You don't get points for blind guesses," he said, and then glanced over at Cuddy who still remained silent.

"Maybe the coke's not relevant," said another guy, sitting near the back.

"Why would you say that?" House asked him, and the guy shrugged.

"You asked us what was missing. The patient's doctors would have known about the cocaine once they got the blood tests back; it has to be something else."

House nodded slowly. "True it can't be just the coke. Doesn't mean the coke's irrelevant." Cuddy glanced over at the guy who looked defeated and started tapping his pencil on the desk. House shook his head and looked around the room.

"This is the best you guys can come up with?" House glanced over at Dr. Somers, and then over at Cuddy once again.

She took a deep breath when she realized that Somers was looking straight at her. She uncrossed her arms. "Was the patient on any other medications?" she asked.

Somers and House exchanged a look. "The patient did not admit to taking any prescription medications," House said. "Why? What are you thinking?"

"Cocaine mixed with some sort of antiretroviral, and an already advanced autoimmune disorder would have botched the liver leading to all of those symptoms. I'm thinking azidothymidine."

"AZT? Nice," House said and smiled at her, the same way he did the first time she took her bra off in front of him.

Somers started laughing from his perch at the front of the room. "If I didn't know any better Greg, I would've thought you fed her that answer. But from the way she's been glaring at you for the past hour, I think not." A couple of the girls in the class looked back at Cuddy, who was blushing furiously. "The patient was in fact self-medicating with azidothymidine for undiagnosed and very advanced HIV. The combination of the AZT and the cocaine weakened his liver and he then contracted hepatitis, which was the official cause of death." Somers looked around the room. "The undergrad guessed right, where most of you had no clue. You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you're going to succeed in this course. And in life for that matter. Except you Miss Cuddy. I'm sure you'll do just fine in here, and in life." He gave her a warm smile. "Dismissed."

Cuddy threw her books in her bag, jumped out of her chair, and headed straight for the door. House pushed his way through the mass of students clamoring to get out of the classroom and caught up with her quickly.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, but she kept on walking until he darted in front of her and blocked her escape. "You look…pale. What's going on?" Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't answer. "You know, you're drawing just as much attention to yourself by refusing to talk to me, as you would if we started making out in the middle of the hallway." He glanced around them at the milling crowd. "I for one think that if we're going to draw attention anyways—" Cuddy pulled herself away from him and headed for the front door.

Once they had left the building, Cuddy stopped walking and turned sharply to face him. "Exactly how many of the girls in that class have you slept with House?"

He stopped short, surprised by the question. "What?"

"Are there any girls in there who don't know what it's like to have sex with you and then be ignored by you?"

"You don't."

"How many?" she asked more forcefully. House ran through the list of girls in the class. He was never very good with names, or with faces. Cleavage on the other hand…

"Two," he said, honestly. "Three including you." Cuddy shook her head, and started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her arm. "Hey, you can't be surprised by the fact that I enjoyed meaningless sexual relationships with girls before you came along. That's not what you're mad about."

"No, I'm mad because I'm guessing that most of them didn't realize it was meaningless to you until you never called them or you told them you didn't want to see them again."

"No," he said, "you're mad because you think I did to you. "

"Yes," she said. "I am, and I can't believe I'm one of those girls."

"You're not!" House let go of her and crossed his arms. "And I don't believe you really think that."

Cuddy lowered her eyes; she was suddenly feeling light headed. She was still profoundly hurt by what those girls were saying about him, though logically she knew it wasn't his fault, but she didn't want House to try and talk her into anything. Right now, the pull to feel like she mattered to him, that she was special to him in some way, might overpower her need to protect herself.

"I think," she said slowly, "that you are going to be nothing but heartbreak for me. I think that we both got pulled into something we weren't expecting and I think that we made it out to mean more than it actually did. And I think that now we need to forget about all that."

House was nearly winded by her words. The wind whipped around them and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't wanna forget it. And neither do you."

"Yes, I do. Everything is not about you, House." Her insistence might have been more believable had she not been so pale and shaking from the cold. House tried to put his arms around her to shield her from the wind but she quickly moved away from him.

"You want to forget everything?" He asked her, and she nodded, yes she did want to forget. "Then how come you're still wearing that ring?" He motioned to the Claddagh still perched on the ring finger of her bare right hand. Cuddy tucked her hands in her sleeves and didn't answer him. She didn't know what to say.

House nodded, taking the hint that this conversation was over, turned and walked away from her.

Cuddy decided after two weeks of being unable to shake this flu or whatever it was, that it was time to go to the doctor. She had been sitting alone in a white paper gown on a flat table for about twenty minutes before the doctor came in. She sat down across from Cuddy and looked over her file. "Nausea, dizziness, fatigue, vomiting, loss of appetite…no fever, no abdominal pain?"

Cuddy nodded, "For almost two weeks now. "

"When was you're last period?"

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "What? I guess, it was the end of November. Why?"

"I'd like to take some, blood and do a pregnancy test."

Cuddy shook her head. "I'm on birth control, I can't be pregnant."

"Still," the young doctor smiled softly. "I think it'd be a good idea."

"You're pregnant," the doctor placed her hand on Cuddy's arm, "about five weeks."

Cuddy was stunned beyond belief. "But, I was—"

"It is possible to get pregnant while on the pill. We will need to start you on prenatal vitamins, and set up an appointment with—"

"No," Cuddy said quickly. "I can't do this. I can't have a baby right now."

The doctor frowned and sat down across from Cuddy. "You do have other options. I can have a counselor come and talk to you about adoption…"

"I can't…I can't be pregnant…I'm—I'm getting ready to…if anyone found out—and…oh god, I don't even know who…" her last thought stopped her cold. "I can't have this baby," she said pointedly.

The doctor nodded. "You're early enough along, we can terminate the pregnancy," Cuddy nodded. "But we require that you talk with a counselor and then take twenty-four hours to think it over, just in case you change your mind."

"I won't change my mind," she said.

"Still, you have to take the time, and it would be a good idea to call someone, a parent of friend. On one should go through something like this alone." Cuddy was nodding but she had stopped listening. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep the tears back.

Cuddy skipped class that afternoon, and went straight home to bed. She fell into a numb and listless heap on the bed and was quickly asleep. No room for tears, no time for thinking. When she woke up in the middle of the night it was to a sharp and steady pain in her abdomen. She rolled out of bed and limped to her bathroom. When she turned on the light and looked down at the dress she had been wearing earlier that day it was stained crimson, and soaking wet.

Cuddy wrapped a long coat around her and stumbled through the halls of her dorm and down to her car, by the time she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street the tears were coming full force driven partly by pain and partly by fear.

She skidded to a stop in front of the emergency room and wiped back the tears as she entered the waiting room and stepped up to the desk.

"Can I help you?" the admitting nurse looked up and her face instantly dropped.

Cuddy opened her mouth and tried to find the words. She unbuttoned the long trench coat she was wearing and revealed her clothes. "There's blood," she whispered, and then snapped her eyes shut as a blinding pain shot through her. Then everything went dark.

A few days later, Cuddy was back in class. She had called Dr. Somers the day before and told him that she had been sick, but promised she would make up all the work. Somers told her that he was glad she called, he told her that when she didn't show up the other day, House went looking for her, they were worried when she didn't answer. Cuddy went cold when she heard House's name. She stumbled over her words as she told him that she was probably at the doctor's office when he came by. Then she told him she'd see him tomorrow and hung up quickly. Cuddy put her face in her hands and let out yet another sob which she quickly choked back.

Now, sitting in the classroom, Cuddy stared at the front of the class, onto the blank black blackboard, feeling House's stare fixating on her. She fidgeted nervously and even struggled to stay awake. She didn't say a word and when Dr. Somers dismissed the class she quickly gathered up her things. But before she could make her escape, Somers called her to the front of the room. As the other students filed out, Cuddy lowered her eyes and approached him.

"Yes, sir?" She felt House's eyes on her once again. Somers handed her a book and a few pages of notes.

"these are some things we covered while you were ill," he said. "I hope you're feeling better, now. It was nothing too serious?"

"No," Cuddy said quickly. "Just the flu. I'm sorry I didn't say much, I guess I'm still getting my bearings back." Dr. Somers nodded. "Thank you," she said. "For the notes."

After she left, Somers turned to House. "She's a very bright girl." House nodded and continued packing up books and papers that had been turned in that day. "I hope whatever is afflicting her will pass."

House, knowing the man well enough to know when he was dancing around something turned to him and squared his shoulders. "I told you I'm not seeing her. Never was."

Dr. Somers smiled. "What's wrong, Greg?"

"I don't know," he said. "I haven't talked to her in over a week."

"No. I mean what's wrong with you?" Dr. Somers placed a friendly hand on House's back. "You've not been yourself," he said.

House looked away. "I told you," he said, and then lowered his voice. "I'm not seeing her."

An hour later House was pounding on Cuddy's door. "Go away!" She yelled at him from inside.

"Open the damn door, now!" He shouted. He looked around and noticed the few students in the hallway were alarmed, and he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention. He lowered his voice. "I just want to talk."

A few seconds later Cuddy opened the door and let him in. He stood awkwardly in her living room, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Then he walked over to where she was sitting at a corner table and sat down next to her.

"What's going on?" he asked her.

"Nothing," Cuddy said shaking her head. "I'm fine."

"The hell you are," he said. "Don't lie to me Cuddy. Last week you were ghost white, you were bloated and nauseous, this week your fine physically, but you've been skimping out on school, you look like you're not sleeping, you've been crying." Cuddy looked away from him as tears sprang back, but he touched her chin forcing her to look at him. His eyes were suddenly cold. "You were pregnant," he said. "Now you're not."