Remember December
Chapter 10
"This is absurd. I hadn't seen the man in years, why do I need to be here?" House glanced uncomfortably up and down the funeral home lobby. Wilson signed both of their names in the guestbook, and took one the delicate leaflets with the name, Dr. Richard Somers, engraved in gold.
"Someone you've known that long, that had so much influence on your life passes away, it's customary to pop in and pay your respects," Wilson said. "What I want to know is why you were okay with me coming out here with you, but you insisted that Stacy stay at home."
House gave his friend a sidelong glance, but then went back to scanning the lobby. "You and I haven't spent much quality time together lately. I figured a funeral was a good time and place for that."
Wilson shook his head. House spotted his parents walking out of the viewing, his mother pressing a tissue to her eyes. She gave him a sad smile and walked over to wrap her arms around him.
"How are you Greg?"
"I'm okay mom," he looked back at Wilson. "Mom, dad, this is James Wilson. I work with him at Bellview."
House's mother and father shook Wilson's hand. "Did you know Richard?" His mother asked. His father had given House a curt nod and then made his way to a group of Marines standing in the corner.
"No, I didn't. I've heard a lot about him from your son though." House's mom smiled, pleased to know that Richard Somers still had a place in her son's life.
House was still staring across the lobby when Cuddy stepped through the funeral parlor doors. He caught his breath. It had been so long since he had seen her; he'd almost forgotten how lovely she was. But her girlish stature had been replaced with a confident classic air of a woman who had found her place amongst her male peers. She commanded respect, but was charming and likable at the same time. She had a flawless and deliberate way about her when she moved. House glanced back at his mother and Wilson who were talking about Somers' sudden stroke, and then he looked back over at Cuddy. She had signed the guestbook and then looked around her, trying to locate the room where the viewing was being held.
She spotted House almost immediately, and smiled softly at him. House excused himself to Wilson and his mother and walked over to where she was standing. "Hi," he said in a low awkward voice.
Cuddy smiled a little wider. "You look good," she said.
House grunted a laugh. "You look amazing." They stared at one another a little longer than was socially acceptable, before Wilson appeared next to House.
"Hey," he said to House and then followed his eyes over to Cuddy. "Oh…hi." He said and smiled and stuck his hand out. "James Wilson."
House frowned and looked away as Cuddy shook his hand. "Wilson, this is Lisa Cuddy. We went to school together." He spoke in mumbles, annoyed that Wilson interrupted them. He hadn't see the woman in ten years and Wilson wiggles in and—
"Nice to meet you," she said and then looked over at House, "I'm gonna go in," she said softly, nodding to the viewing room.
As she stepped away from them Wilson raised his brow and smiled. "Wow," he said. "She's—"
House frowned again. "Didn't you just get married?"
"Is she the reason you didn't want Stacy to come?"
House rolled his eyes. "I barely know her," he said. "Would you please stop trying to analyze me?" He turned away from Wilson and followed Cuddy into the room where Somers' body was laid out in a nice suit and a large oak coffin.
He stepped up behind her. "When I was a kid I thought this man would live forever," House kind of laughed. "He was always there for me." House left off the part about how Richard Somers was always there for him even when his own father wasn't. But it had not been lost on him from the moment his mother called him with the news, that this might be the closest he would ever come to mourning the death of a father.
Cuddy looked back at him. Her eyes were moist but she smiled. "He was a good man."
House nodded. "It's good to see you Cuddy." She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"It's good to see you too," she said. She let go of his hand and they stepped out of the room and into a small sitting area off the main hallway.
"How has Pennsylvania been treating you?" She asked him when they were alone again.
"Um…not too good. I left a few months ago."
Cuddy shook her head. "Left or got fired?"
House shrugged. "I guess it depends on who you ask. I'm at Bellview Memorial now on Long Island."
Cuddy laughed. "New York, Wow. How did that happen?"
"You see that guy over there?" He motioned into the hall at Wilson. "The one that hasn't been able to stop drooling over you since you walked in." Cuddy laughed. "He's a friend of mine. He got me the job."
"Well, I guess we're going to be neighbors soon," Cuddy told him.
"Yeah?"
"I just accepted a job at Princeton General," she said. And then after a pause, "New York. That seems so unlike you."
"Well it's just Long Island," he said, and then pressed his lips together. "I um—I moved there because I met someone. I live with her now, for the past few months. Stacy. Is her name." House looked back into the hallway, immediately regretting the confession and desperately looking for a way out of this awkward situation.
Cuddy's heart jumped into her throat. "Oh," she said. She realized that came out more shocked than she would've liked. It wasn't like she had expected that he had been waiting for her all this time or anything. She smiled at the absurdity of her reaction. "That's great," she said. House nodded slowly, praying that Wilson would come in and rescue him. "What's she like?"
House laughed. "What's she like? She's you as a lawyer." Cuddy laughed. "I guess I have a type," he said.
Cuddy had been staring at the floor, a small smile still plastered to her face. "Well good, it's good that you're happy."
House nodded. "Are you…seeing anyone?"
"Me? Oh. No, well sometimes…not really." She laughed nervously, and House was sorry he even ventured down this path.
"They're probably gonna start the service soon," He stood up.
"Yeah, I'll be right behind you."
House walked out of the room and up to Wilson who had been watching them from the hallway. "I got her primed for you; now she's just waiting for you to make your move." He slapped his friend on the back and left.
"Son of a bitch!" House fell sideways into his dining room table knocking over a vase. He grabbed his leg, and cursed again under his breath. Stacy looked in from the kitchen.
"Jesus, Greg. Will you please let me take you back to the emergency room?" She came over and held his arm but he shook her off.
"Those morons will just tell me I've got muscle cramps again and send me home with a heating pad and some pain killers."
"Well you can't keep going like this; you can barely walk. We can try another doctor or a different hospital."
House limped into the living room and collapsed on the couch. "I'll be fine," he told her. Stacy shook her head and walked away from him. In nearly five years she rarely ever walked away from an argument with him. It was one of the things he said he loved about her. But he had been unapproachable since he got a sharp pain in his leg the day, and didn't know what it was. He went into the hospital and asked for an MRI but was discharged after he stabbed himself in the leg with a syringe full of Demerol. Stacy was worried, but she knew that would be lost on him, so she shut up.
Later that night, House woke up screaming in pain and covered in sweat. He grabbed his leg and rolled off the bed hitting the floor hard. Stacy shot up in bed and grabbed the phone.
"You're going to the hospital," she said, rushing around the bed and dropping down to his side. House grabbed her arm.
"No. Take me to Princeton General," he said, groping for the bottle of oxycodone on his nightstand.
"In Jersey? Why?"
House threw four of the pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry couching and heaving as they went down. "Tell them that my doctor's name is Cuddy."
Stacy fumbled with the car heater, as House shivered next to her and clutched his leg. They had been on the road for nearly thirty minutes and still had another thirty to go.
"I don't understand why we need to drive all the way out to New Jersey. We should have gone somewhere closer to home," she said nervously tapping the steering wheel.
"You wanted a second opinion; we're going to get one," House told her wincing at another shooting pain through his thigh. He opened the pill bottle and dumped two more into his hand.
"You've never even mentioned this Dr. Cuddy to me. Who is he?"
House glanced over at her, before tossing the pills to the back of his throat. "He is a she, and she's someone I trust to help figure out what's wrong with me." He laid his head back against the seat.
Stacy kept one hand on the wheel; the other she pressed to her forehead, gently rubbing her temples. House reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She glanced over at him.
"We'll figure this out," she said. House closed his eyes and nodded, but said nothing.
Stacy went up to the receptionist in the lobby of Princeton General and asked for Dr. Cuddy, but was told she was unavailable. She took House to the emergency room, where he yelled and berated the staff and nurses until a doctor came in.
"Mister…House?" The young man was named Stephens. He was about twenty-five and had a crew-cut.
"Doctor House," House corrected him.
"Right. I was told you're a patient of Dr. Cuddy's, but she's out of town—"
"Call her. Get her here," House barked at the young doctor as her gripped his leg pressed down on his thigh.
"Dr. Cuddy is an endocrinologist. You have a leg problem—"
"Look, I'm sure you're a real smart kid, probably watch ER every week and learn a whole lot. But I'm not going to argue with you. Get her on the phone, or get a black eye." House took a shaky but threatening step toward the doctor, who stepped back.
"Okay," he said holding up his hands. "I'll try to contact her." He shook his head and walked out of the room.
A few minutes later a receptionist called House up to the desk and handed him a phone.
"Hello."
"What is going on, House? Are you okay?" Cuddy sounded both panicked and irritated.
"Where the hell are you?"
"In Plainsboro. They needed someone to come out and take care of some thin—" House cut her off.
"That's very nice. Gold star for you. I need you to come back to Princeton."
"I can't right now. What's wrong?"
"My leg hurts."
"Your leg?" Now she just sounded annoyed.
"It hurts really bad. It's not a muscle cramp, there was no trauma. It just hurts."
"House, you and I are not the only doctors who can diagnose a leg pain. I can have them admit you and run some tests until I get back."
"I want an MRI."
"I can't justify and MRI, based on a cramp in your leg—"
"I told you it wasn't a cramp!" He shouted.
"Okay, fine it's not a cramp. Do you have a fever?"
House glanced up at Stacy who had been staring at him. "Yes," he said. "I think so. I've been sweating."
"Could be an infection. I'll order blood tests and antibiotics. We'll see what that shows."
"How long till you get back?"
"I can probably get away in a couple of days."
He shook his head. "I really need your help." He sounded afraid and it took Cuddy off guard.
"You're going to be okay House. But for now I'm going to have to help you from here."
House handed the phone back to the nurse. "She said admit me and do an MRI," he told her. The nurse frowned at him and talked to Cuddy for a few seconds before hanging up.
"Dr. Cuddy wants us to admit you and then draw some blood," she told him.
A day later Cuddy got a call from Dr. Stevens. "Your patient, Dr. House is having kidney failure."
"What?" She had just woken up and shot straight up in bed.
"He had blood and waste in his urine," the younger man told her.
Cuddy shook her head. "He just had leg pain," she whispered.
"Dr. House thinks we may be dealing with muscle cell death. What do want us to do Dr. Cuddy?" He asked her. Cuddy stared at the wall in front of her for several seconds. Leg pain. Elevated CK. Kidney failure. And now muscle death. A clotting aneurism? "Dr. Cuddy?" Dr. Stephens asked her again.
"Do an MRI," she said. "I'm on my way back."
When she arrived back at Princeton a few hours later House was out getting the MRI. On the drive back she had been in a near panic. What if he was right? What if it was muscle death? What if it was an infarction? He would become a cripple. He might lose his leg, because she refused to listen to him and she refused to come back two days ago when he asked her to.
Cuddy stepped down the hall toward his room, and noticed a pretty brunette woman sitting next to his empty bed. Cuddy went inside and closed the door behind her.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Dr. Cuddy." The woman nodded, knowingly, though slightly surprised as if Cuddy were not what she was expecting.
"I'm Stacy." Cuddy nodded. She noted a familiar tortured look on Stacy's face, one that she supposed House was good at bringing out in the women who loved him. "They came and took him for the MRI a few minutes ago."
Cuddy nodded. "They'll page me when it's done and I'll come back with the results. I wanted to talk to you to get a better idea of what happened." Cuddy slid down in the seat next to Stacy.
"Well, a few days ago we went golfing and he got this really sharp pain in his leg. He went to the hospital and asked for an MRI. The doctor said it wasn't necessary and then like an idiot he grabbed a shot of painkillers and shot himself in the leg." Cuddy frowned but didn't say anything. "And then a couple of night ago he woke up screaming in pain and asked to come here. So I brought him." She nodded.
"Okay," Cuddy said. "If the tests show an infarction like we think, the blockage is a few days old which could mean significant muscle cell death. We won't know how serious until we get the MRI back, but—"
"Why do you think he wanted to come here?" Stacy asked her.
"Um, I don't know," she said, thrown by the question. "The man who was his doctor died about four years ago. I was a student of his, I guess he just figured—"
"But if he already suspected the answer, he could have convinced the doctors back home to…" Stacy shook her head. "I guess it doesn't matter."
Cuddy's pager went off and she excused herself. Twenty minutes later House was back in bed and Stacy at his side. Cuddy looked over the results, and feeling deflated, she went to talk to House.
When she stepped back into the room House glanced from her to Stacy and back. He closed his eyes. "What took you so long?" He asked her.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"How bad?" He asked her.
Cuddy nodded. "The MRI revealed a problem."
House refused the surgery as Cuddy suspected that he might. He ordered her to do a bypass instead. Cuddy was splitting her time between reassuring Stacy and trying to distance herself from House. Cuddy realized soon after his first surgery why she had no business treating him at all. She realized it when she had to steal into the bathroom because she could hardly control the tears springing up after she saw him screaming in agony from the post-op pain and the toxins running rampant through his body.
She tried to talk to Stacy about a surgical procedure which would remove the damaged area, but leave the leg more or less intact. Cuddy knew House wouldn't listen to her, because the catch was, the surgery would remove any danger of him dying, but would still cause him to be in chronic pain for the rest of his life. To House it was the same as if they were to lop his whole leg off. Cuddy thought that if Stacy brought the option to him first, she might have a little more influence. But that turned out not to be the case.
A few hours later Stacy drove back to Long Island to pick up some things from their house and take a shower. While she was gone House went into cardiac arrest.
Cuddy couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been that scared. Once he was out of danger she left the room to collect herself; when she came back shortly afterwards, House was awake but breathing heaving and nearly in tears from the pain. She lowered herself into the chair next to his bed.
"I need more morphine," he said between haggard breaths. Cuddy nodded and made an adjustment to his pain monitor. She folded her hands in her lap and pressed her lips together. House's breathing slowed down a bit as the morphine over took him. He turned his head to look at her. "What's wrong?"
Cuddy closed her eyes and shook her head. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. "You almost died," she said. "I can't do this. I can't be objective right now."
"You have to, Cuddy." House winced as he tried to turn his body toward her. "I need you."
"No. You are make stupid choices, and refusing a treatment that could save your life. You could die and you don't care what this is doing to…Stacy."
House nodded. "She's strong; she can handle it. And so can you." He reached his hand out and took hers. "Do you know why I asked to come here and see you?"
Cuddy shook her head, and reigned in her tears. "No."
"I wanted you because I knew that you would trust me enough to know that I know what's best for me and trust yourself enough to do what has to be done."
Cuddy let go of his hand, and touched the side of his face. She brushed his cheek with her thumb. "What you want and what has to be done might not be the same thing," she said softly. "When the time comes to make those tough calls, I don't know if I can do it."
"You just have to trust me Cuddy." She nodded and blinked back fresh tears. She dropped her hand back into her lap and then stood up, leaving the room without another word.
"You'll be out in less than a minute," she said softly. House followed her with his eyes as she stepped to the far side of the room, giving them some privacy.
"Thank you," he whispered. Cuddy turned her back to him. She listened as he whispered to Stacy that he loved her, and she loved him back. Cuddy listed as she apologized for a betrayal that she had not yet committed. But would very soon. And Cuddy would be her accomplice. She would help her cripple him. More than that. Stacy just signed the death order; Cuddy would be the one pulling the trigger.
Cuddy waited with Stacy while House was in surgery. Both of them could hardly sit still, though Cuddy tried to be as reassuring as she could, for Stacy's benefit. When it was over, Stacy wanted to be there when House woke up. She wanted to be the one to tell him.
A couple of hours later Cuddy watched as Stacy left again, this time next to tears. She shook her head, squared her shoulders and headed for his room.
His look changed from rage and disgust to a wounded sort of anger the second she appeared at his door. "I thought I could trust you," he said to her.
"I did what I had to do, Cuddy said. "And so did Stacy."
"Don't fucking defend her!" House shouted, and struggled to lift himself up in the bed, though his leg screamed in protest and he fell back against the pillows.
"Don't move around too much, you've got—" Cuddy was trying to calm him, down but careful, not to show guilt or remorse for what she did. House wasn't hearing it.
"You had no right." He told her in a scathing voice.
"You could have died, House. We saved your life."
"No."
"House—" she started to put a hand on his arm but he reached over and grabbed the small lamp by the side of his bed and flung it across the room. It smashed against the far wall and fell to pieces on the floor. A few people outside looked up in alarm and a security guard stepped forward, but Cuddy threw her hand up to keep him back.
She turned back to House. "You need to throw things? Fine. But it won't change what I did. You're just going to have to find a way to deal with it."
"You crippled me!"
"I did what had to be done," she whispered, echoing his words from earlier that day.
House settled back onto the pillow. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Cuddy shook her head. She realized she wasn't going to be able to talk to him now. She turned to leave, and as she did she caught the edge of an angry sob and then a stream of curses and cries. Cuddy's heart dropped in her chest as she closed the door behind her.
A/N: First thanks so so much for all the wicked cool reviews guys! So as you might have guessed, I am now getting into some more recent history. This chapter deals this the infarction; the next will deal with what happens after, Stacy leaving and how House comes to work for Cuddy. I have been re-watching some of the older episodes and kind of focusing on those that struck me as curious and/or vital to understanding their relationship. Those of you waiting on some more smutty Huddy…it will come, but in pretty limited doses for now…sorry. But if you have any critiques, suggestions, or (of course) compliments...i wanna know all about it...
~Heather