"How do you feel?" House asked for what must've been the billionth time since they'd been sitting there. Every other sentence out of his mouth was something to do with her wellbeing, which was sweet, sure, but wasn't doing too well to keep her mind off the situation.
"Hmm..." Cuddy pondered. "I think I'm about to stroke out... Or have an aneurysm... Or a heart attack..."
"Don't joke," House chastised. "That's my job."
"But since you're doing the overly concerned serious thing that I'd normally do, I thought I'd do what you normally do," Cuddy smirked, her sentence a bit of a tongue twister.
"Watch your pretty mouth or I'll turn the monitor off," House warned.
"You wouldn't," Cuddy challenged. "You're too worried about me."
House debated whether to turn it off just to spite her, but this wasn't some jokey situation like they were trying to make it. And turning it off would leave her injured in the dark.
Not worth it.
"You believe what you want," House said gruffly, refusing to admit it.
"I will, and I'll enjoy it," she said stubbornly. House shook his head, and then leapt forward as he saw her grab her head.
"What is it?" He demanded, touching the screen lightly, wishing he could check for himself.
"Nothing," she stammered, wincing. "Just a little sore."
"Crane collapses will do that to a brain," House told her snidely, successfully masking his worry. He didn't want her to think he actually cared, or anything crazy like that. The problem was, that he did care. Very much so.
"Stop with the snarkiness," Cuddy groaned. "I'm not in the mood."
"Big surprise there," House muttered under his breath.
There was a moment of awkward silence. House looked up to Cuddy, who was staring apprehensively at the young man's head in her lap. "He doesn't look so good," she murmured, lifting his eyelids to check his pupils. "His pupils don't seem to be responsive."
"It's hard for things to responsive when there's nothing for them to respond to," House told her, straining to get a better look. "What are you thinking?"
"Cerebral haemorrhage," she answered. "Right pupil looks slightly blown."
House winced. Thank god she was telling him this now, instead of her lying there with a brain bleed and some dumb-ass kid fumbling and crying for mommy. "They're working on getting you out," House relayed, glancing to where Tom was animatedly describing something to some workers.
"Well duh," Cuddy snapped. "What else would they do?"
"Don't be cranky," House chided.
"Don't be unhelpful," she countered. "House, please stop. I'm just...not up for this right now."
He knew that he had to stop, and just be there for her. He knew that, and he wanted that, but after he'd all but composed her a love sonnet and sung it from the balcony he wanted to keep a slither of the dignity he had left. "Okay, Cuddy," he said softly.
"Did you call Marina?" Cuddy asked shakily, blinking back a few scared tears. She was doing her best to keep them at bay but every now and then her shoulder jarred or her muscles cramped and she was faced with the unwelcome reminder of where she was.
"Yeah," House lied. "The kid's fine."
"You could call her Rachel," Cuddy suggested gently. She knew that was no part of her daughter's life and wouldn't want to be, but still...she'd like some recognition of more than 'kid'.
"I could, but I'm not going to," House replied, firmly. If Cuddy changed her mind about the manchild and wanted a real man, then House would be there. And if having Cuddy in his life meant tolerating Rachel for a hour a day or so, so be it. But he saw no need to pretend to be interested in the spawn if he couldn't have Cuddy.
Cuddy sighed. She couldn't see House, there was only a camera down there. She knew that she had to tell him about Lucas, about the wedding... But she couldn't. And it wasn't because she didn't want to hurt his feelings, it was because...because she didn't want it to be real. She didn't want to close off the last semblance of a proper personal relationship with House.
And she knew that felt like that. She'd known when she'd agreed to one date with Lucas (casual, close to home, separate cars, not a proper date if you think about it) and she'd known when she'd agreed to a real first date (movie, dinner, naked and sweaty date - though she'd skillfully avoided the latter for a few weeks) and she'd known when she'd done everything else too. Moving in, house buying... And now marriage.
Lucas was young, he wanted it all. He wanted the big white wedding, four kids, a dog and a house in the suburbs. And he wanted them to retire early and grow old together, sitting on the porch and holding hands.
No freaking way.
When he'd said that to her, Cuddy had felt the bile literally rise up her throat. Four kids? She had one who she adored already, and maybe another would be nice... But three more? Not happening. And early retirement? Did she look like the kind of woman who wanted to pack up and live in Florida and play bridge when she was fully functional?
She seamlessly managed to run a hospital, raise a daughter, keep her relationship alive and well, deal with House - and everything and everyone who came with House - not once did she bat an eyelid and think she was in over her head. For christ's sake, she'd got a twelve percent increase!
And when Lucas had told her that, only one thought had been running through her head - House would never say that to me.
It had popped in before she could stop it, and she'd instantly chastised herself, but the damage was done and the seed of doubt was implanted.
Lucas maybe be nice and stable, but House was for her... He challenged her, he made her feel things that she wished she could feel all the time... And they weren't even together.
And for once in her life, she knew exactly what she wanted, it was perfectly crystal clear. And yet, she was afraid to grab it, because she knew that if failed and burned everything would crash into her like a train.
She'd be alone, miserable, and House would doubly annoying. And, he'd have seen her naked, something which she was sure he'd use against her in some way.
"Penny for your thoughts," House's voice emitted from the device, startling her. He'd been watching her for a minute or two, and her despondent expression was starting to concern him.
"Nakedness," she answered automatically, knowing how titillating that would be for him.
House smirked. "Whatever gets you through this," he said easily, joining her in her thoughts of nakedness.
Yeah, it did help just that tiniest bit.
"House!" Tom called, breathing heavily with the hint of a smile. "We have a plan," he said happily, to both of them.
"Thank god," they said simultaneously.
"We're going to open it up," Tom explained, "and build as we go down, and add supports. Hopefully, it'll hold long enough for us to get you out. It's risky, but it's our best shot."
"You need to get him out first," Cuddy said selflessly. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine," House insisted. "And he might be a lost cause."
"House," Cuddy hissed, "he's a person."
"So are you," House persisted, "and you're conscious. And you're my priority here."
Cuddy smiled. "That's sweet."
"Not really," House edited hastily, "I just didn't want to go through the hassle of training a new Dean to give in to my every whim."
"You keep telling yourself that," Cuddy said, running a had through her blood-matted hair. Her temples were throbbing vehemently and she was pretty sure her shoulder was as useless as chicken at a birthday party.
"Lets get started," Tom said briskly, and before anyone had a chance to prepare there are a horrible crunching sound as the jagged metal and broken concrete was pried apart.
House watched on the monitor as Cuddy was showered by pea-sized gravel pieces. "Stay calm," he soothed, watching her eyes widened and knowing that her heart rate was rising. "It sounds bad, but it's good. All the big bits are staying up."
"Well that's a plus," she stuttered, and House could see her fiercely clenched hand.
"Seriously, this is good," House continued to shout over the giant crunching sounds. "And I think they've nearly got it!"
The sudden crashing stopped, and there was a moment of tense silence while everyone prayed for the newly bent structure to hold, Cuddy especially.
After a minute of nerve-wracking there was a collective whoop when it held. "Yay!" Cuddy smiled weakly. "I'm not going to die!"
"You're not out of the woods yet," House reminded.
"Thanks for dampening my spirits," Cuddy muttered, the darkness seeming slightly darker than before, even though she knew getting out was becoming a real possibility. She'd been stuck down there for coming up to three hours and the thought of not having the twisted ball of anxiety clenched in her belly was certainly appealing.
"It went well," Tom's voice drifted through down to her. "It's holding, and it looks steady. We're going to start working our way down to you."
"How far down am I?" Cuddy asked, glancing at the enclosed walls. There was only a small space that she was sitting in, and the poor guy had his head cradled in her lap and his very possibly broken legs all twisted and curled up beside him.
"Six, seven metres," Tom speculated, lifting his crash helmet slightly. "It's doable, Lisa. And I have a good feeling about this."
"Okay," she exhaled, her mind whirring. "I trust you."
"Good," Tom told her, then gave a clear nod to the rest of the team. "Go!"
"Now Lisa," he turned back to the camera. "It's going to be loud, and shaky. There'll be falling rocks and such, and it'll be scary. We'll probably lose contact."
At that, Cuddy's head snapped up. "I'll be alone?"
"Until they break the surface, yes," Tom confirmed. "But House'll be here for you when we get you out."
Cuddy opened her mouth to say something, but then a horrible, wailing banging started, drilling and whacking and dislodging everything.
The monitor fuzzed and spat and the erupted with snow, obscuring her view of the surface. She was all alone and the walls were literally falling down on her.
Her chest hitched and the throat constricted and she was finding it hard to breathe. NO! DO NOT have a panic attack! She screamed internally to herself.
"This is so not the time," she whispered to herself, clutching the unconscious kid for some human contact.
You know why this happening, her brain told her. It's because you're a coward.
Shut up, she told her brain, ignoring the part of her that said she was going crazy.
You know what you want, who you want, and you're settling for second best. For something that won't make you happy.
Don't do that to yourself, brain continued, and Lisa shut up and listened. Make yourself happy, because right now you are sitting in this crappy situation, where you could die, and if you do then you'll have not told the man you love how you feel.
She knew her brain was right. She knew she had to listen, to do the right thing. "Okay," she whispered, "I promise, okay? When I get out, I'll tell him, I promise!" She shouted, through the haze and blur of falling debris, over the banging and shouting and shaking structure.
"Come on," she urged. "Come on! I'm ready!" She could no longer see because of the dust, and she couldn't breathe so well, but she was okay.
She was steady. And she knew that she could do this. She was Lisa Cuddy, for christ's sake.
So she rode out the storm, for the next, most excruciatingly terrifying and adrenaline pumping half hour of her life.
Then, miraculously, gloriously, there was a crack. A tiny opening, and a pinprick of light blurred through to her. Light!
She grinned, eyes clamped shut again. But that was okay, because she knew it was there, she knew she could do this.
"Lisa?" A voice shouted, and she saw a head pressed against the small crack. There was an eye there, and it was searching the musty darkness. For her.
Oh thank the fucking lord.
"Yes!" She shouted, "oh god, yes! I'm here!"
There was a small laugh. "Good," he laughed, "that's good."
"Cuddy?"
She heard the voice echoing down the drilled tunnel, and she smiled. "Cuddy?" It called again, sounding frantic.
"Are you gonna tell him I'm alright?" She asked smugly.
"Thought I'd make him sweat," the guy joked, and Cuddy found herself enjoying it. When the risk of you being crushed decreases severely you find yourself way more open to lighthearted humour.
"CUDDY?" Came hurtling down again, and Cuddy decided to have some mercy on him.
"Put the poor guy out of his misery," she said, clutching onto the guy's outstretched arm. "He's been great," she acknowledged.
"She's fine!" He yelled. "We're getting her out!"
"Do it quickly!" House shouted gruffly, and Cuddy smiled to herself. He'd been all cool and collected the whole time, and now he was freaking out over her safety.
This was going to make keeping her promise a lot easier.
"Get him out first," she gestured to the boy in her lap. "He's been unconscious the whole time, I think he has a cranial haemorrhage."
"Actually, since you can move we're going to get you out first," he told her.
"But what about - "
"He'll be fine," he assured, his arm clutching hers. "Trust me, this will work. We got down here okay, didn't we?"
"I guess so," she attempted to shrug, then winced at her shoulder pain. "You should know that my shoulder is dislocated, so climbing will be...interesting."
"It may hurt," he told her truthfully. "This shaft is not wide enough for us to easily pull you through. There is a point where we can get you on a stretcher, but it's a few metres up."
"I'll be fine," she insisted determinedly.
He began to widen the hole, and chip by chip it became bigger and more light shone through, illuminating Cuddy's face.
He winced. "That looks bad," he nodded to the cut.
She touched it. A smudge of blood came off, too much blood when it had been bleeding for around three hours. No, now was not the time to freak out. She was about to be rescued, and tended to.
"I'll be fine," she repeated. She felt two strong arms reach out to her and grip her good arm, pulling her out of the puddle of rubble she was buried in. Slowly she slid through, moaning as her hips were scraped against the shards. Glass and gravel was poking into her, practically sticking tiny pins into her body.
"I'm sorry," he apologised. "It's almost over."
Tears shining in her eyes she fought on, body aching and stinging. "It'll be over soon," she whispered, crying out, tears slipping dow her dusty cheeks as she was lifted haphazardly through the barely big enough opening.
"Good," the man soothed. "You did great, Lisa."
"Get. Me. Out." She breathed forcefully. "Now."
"Yes ma'am," he nodded, and together the shifted upwards.
.
House stared down the hole, peering deep inside. Where was she? She should be here now.
"Where is she?" House said, grabbing a nearby man's arm.
"Here," she moaned, and House felt a huge sigh of relief as her dusted, battered, bruised but beautiful head came into view. "I'm right here."
"What the hell did he do to you?" House asked, gently wiping against her forehead. He palm slipped down to cup her cheek, and gently swiped a tear away with his thumb. "It's going to be alright," he murmured softly, helping the team lift her out and place her on the awaiting stretcher.
He grimaced when he saw her shoulder. That was going to hurt like a bitch when it was popped back in.
He took in her body... It was kind of a disaster zone. Bruises and cuts, everywhere. Blood, everywhere.
She no doubt had to be in a lot of pain, but she was bossing everyone around like the best of them, getting affirmation that the other kid was okay.
"Shut up, Cuddy," House silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Just...stop talking."
And miraculously, she did. She looked at him with her beautiful clear grey eyes, and gripped his hand tightly. She moaned as she was lifted into the ambulance.
"Hey," House snapped at the paramedics. "Careful."
Cuddy smiled to herself. This was what is was like to have House around for you, protecting you. It was a good feeling.
"House," she muttered, her body lightening up and her IV was inserted and morphine began flowing through her veins.
"Yes?" He asked, shuffling close beside her, holding her hand.
"D-d-don't leave," she murmured, eyes drooping.
"I won't," he assured her, squeezing her hand. "I won't leave you."
Now or never. "I...love...you," she forced out, then her eyes drifted slowly shut.
"I love you too," House murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. He only admitted that because he was sure she was out, but he was wrong. She was awake, and she heard him.
She heard him loud and clear.