Cuddy groaned as she was bumped out of the ambulance and into the hospital through the ER doors, too roughly for either her or House's liking. "Hey!" House chastised gruffly, snarling at the paramedic. "Don't they teach how to not be a moron at night school?"
"House..." Cuddy mumbled, sliding the oxygen mask off her face. "Be nice," she scolded, and House looked at her incredulously.
"He's banging you every which way - and not in a good way - and you're just okay to sit by and take it? Come on Cuddy, get your Dean on."
It was funny how sweet and protective House was when she was in danger, his stream of racist, sexist and generally rude comments stopped and replaced with fierce attentiveness... But as soon as she was safe and sound in the hospital his snarky side came roaring back. Good thing Cuddy found his snarky side endearing.
"My Dean is taking a break," she told him, "and being replaced by a woman in need of morphine."
He grinned at her, limping along beside her quickly despite his lack of cane, and squeezed her arm. "That's my girl. Straight for the good, hard drugs."
"We make quite a pair," she said softly, allowing an IV to be inserted and a bag of fluids hung up.
"Not any more," he reminded. "A year, clean."
"Congratulations," she told him sincerely, shifting awkwardly in the C collar. "I'm not as strong as you, I guess. Give me the drugs."
"There's no shame in admitting you have a problem," he chided jokingly, pushing a syringe of morphine in her IV.
"House!" Wilson said breathlessly, rushing over and crashing into an empty gurney at the same time. "I heard that Cuddy was in another collapse?"
"Ask her yourself," House nodded down to her, and she attempted to smile.
Wilson did a double take. "Lisa?"
"Hi," she mumbled weakly.
"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just didn't recognise you in all that rubble and dust and... Jesus! Is that your shoulder?"
"No," House said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "it's mine. We decided to switch."
"What else is wrong?" Wilson persisted, feeling her glands and wincing at the glass fragments embed under her chin.
House knew that Wilson just meant well, but he couldn't help but feel like Wilson was moving in on his woman, even though he knew that was ridiculous. Still, he should be the one feeling her glands and being concerned about the glass sticking out of her face.
"I'll do it," he said melodramatically, shoving Wilson out of the way and taking over. He frowned at Cuddy's bemused expression. "Shut up."
She made a non committal noise, and shut her eyes slowly. "Hey!" House said sharply, and she opened them wide again.
"I'm awake," she murmured.
"Better stay that way," he warned. "We're going get you down for an MRI and x-rays and if all's well we'll then get you to a bed. Then you can sleep."
"If all goes well?" She asked as some interns began pushing the gurney out of the ER and up onto the other hospital floors.
"You might have internal bleeding, or some other injuries," he relayed, only slightly concerned that she didn't seem to know that already. "And your scapula might be broken. The dislocation is probably masking pain from a break."
"Can you call Marina?" She mumbled, the drugs making her woozy, and House knew that she would be out of it in a minute. "Get her...to...get...Rach - "
"I know," House stopped her. "Just rest now, don't try to talk."
He realised those words sounded eerily like the ones she'd said to him two years previously. "You...better be there...when I...wake up..." She tapered off.
"I will be," he promised as the doors swung shut. Then, with a heavy heart, he went off to call Marina, and by default, Lucas.
.
House was already waiting in room 214 when Lucas appeared in the doorway. After he'd left her in the MRI suite and called Lucas he'd hacked the patient files and found out which room they'd placed her in.
Of course it was one of the best rooms, private with a big bathroom and cable. Being the Dean of Medicine did include perks if you were ever hospitalised, so at least you weren't adding insult to injury by being stuck on a busy ward.
In his opinion, she should have been back from CT at least half an hour ago, but House did appreciate how incompetent the hospital staff could be - the fact that they were dealing with the continuous stream of patients from the accident site was clearly irrelevant.
Anyway, he'd found out her room number in about three seconds - the nurses are inept at making a secure patient network - and was now sitting anxiously in the bedside chair, hoping he didn't look as pathetically nervous as he actually was.
Then add in a distraught looking Lucas showing up - Jesus, was he crying? - and House was having a hard time staying calm and not blowing up at Lucas for being such a pathetic baby who wasn't any better than a headless chicken in a crisis.
"House," Lucas said sadly, eyes wide and drooping like an injured puppy.
Oh, suck it up!
"Hey Lucas," House replied evenly, looking up from the dimly lit room. "Fancy seeing you here."
Lucas chuckled, apparently he thought it was okay to laugh at a time like this. Idiot.
He came into full view a moment later, revealing a little Rachel clad in pink footie pajamas, rubbing her eyes sleepily and sucking eagerly on a dummy. "Is there anywhere I can put her down?"
House nodded, and pressed the nurse call button. Nurse Brenda came in calmly, with no scathing looks - House assumed she was feeling a little compassion today, considering Cuddy was currently indisposed.
"Can you get a nursery bed up here?" House asked tiredly, not bothering to even put a little snark into it, which alerted Brenda to just how much this was affecting him.
"Of course," she said softly, giving the two men a knowing look. "Whatever you need."
House mumbled quietly, something that sounded like "thank you."
The nurse left quickly, and Lucas smiled gratefully at House. "Thanks," he said companionably. "She's getting heavy."
House realised that he was angling for House to take a hold, but there was no way that he would. If Lucas got Cuddy, he had to deal with the spawn. Those were the rules.
Brenda bustled in a moment later, looking like she'd sprinted from the nursery to bring the baby cot up. Lucas laid Rachel carefully down, and smiled paternally as he pulled the soft cotton blanket over her small form. House shivered internally at the idea of him having that look on his face, ever.
Don't get him wrong, House had an odd sort of respect for kids, and their hilarious ability to just speak their minds, with little or no regard for the consequences. Made for a more interesting conversation than one with an adult.
But he wasn't prepared to deal with everything else, past the inane comments. All the drama, all the tears, all the kissing the boo-boos... Not something House was going to sign up for.
House looked up at the sound of wheels squeaking across the linoleum, signalling the return of a patient to the floor. He hoped it was Cuddy, otherwise the CT techs were going to get an abusive phone call just about now.
Fortunately, it was her, and both House and Lucas sat up straighter as she was wheeled in. The position they ended up in was rife with symbolism. Her in the middle, House on the left, Lucas on the right, and Rachel at the end of the bed in her cot, perfectly placed in no man's land.
"She'll be groggy when she wakes up," the porter told them, then left swiftly, having heard many things about House, none of which were good.
Cuddy's head was turned toward House, and her bruises and cuts looked worse now that they'd cleaned her up a bit. He was pleased to see that her shoulder looked like it was back in the joint, and she was sleeping peacefully now and House hoped that that meant she wasn't in any pain. He knew that that was unlikely, but he still hoped.
He leaned forward went he saw her eyes flutter, ignoring Lucas' confused look. "Hey," he whispered, "if you move too much you'll hurt yourself."
"Mmmph," she murmured, rustling slightly. "House..."
"It's okay," House said quickly, jumping in before Lucas could. "Just - "
"House," she coughed. "I'm okay, and listen..."
"Ssh..." House continued, hoping that she wouldn't say something that she'd regret.
"Listen!" She commanded, in her I-am-woman-hear-me-roar voice. "I'm cranky and in pain, so you better shut up and listen to me. House," she blinked open her expressive eyes and stared deep into his own, "I'm making a mistake, marrying Lucas."
House saw his eyes widen in shock and horror, and was not ashamed to admit that he felt a little good about it. It was widely know that he was an ass, why not enjoy it?
He expected Lucas to say something, but he just stared on in horror, so House just coaxed her forward, hoping that she'd continue. Fortunately, she did.
"I'm trying to do the right thing, I'm trying to choose what I should want instead of what I actually want... And crazily, what I want is you. I shouldn't... But I do. And I can't move on with my life unless I face that." She broke off, with a few tears in her eyes. "When I was down there, I said to myself that I would tell you this and get it over with, so I don't have any regrets."
She took a deep breath. "I love you. I wish I didn't, but I can't help it."
House kept his eyes on hers for one second, locked in a gaze, not quite believing that everything he wanted to hear was coming out of her mouth. Sure, she was on heavy painkillers but House knew she wasn't just blurting it out.
She'd thought about this, and she wanted this. She wanted him. She chose him.
"Uh-hem," Lucas cleared his throat awkwardly.
Cuddy whipped round, wincing as she did so. "Oh... Hey Lucas."