I Can't Hear You!

"He raped you," Foreman said. His voice was calm, but Thirteen could see the rage blazing away behind his eyes.

"Yeah," she replied, her own eyes red from tearing up and her skin suddenly extremely pale. "He raped me." Foreman took her into his arms as they sat and ran a gentle hand through her brown locks. She looked up at him and briefly brushed his lips with her own. "I'm taking the rest of the day off," she finally sighed.

"I will, too. I'm not leaving you alone, not now."

"Afraid I'll slip back into old habits? Don't worry; I don't see any nightclubs or one-night-stands in my future."

"It's not that. I just want to be with you, even through the painful things. Especially through the painful things."

Thirteen gazed at him. If it were anyone else, she would have shrugged them off, sniping about how she could take care of herself. Instead, there were only three words she could think to say. "I love you."

"I love you too." Foreman stood and extended a hand, and she took it as she got up from the couch. They left the lounge, fingers still intertwined, to find House.

"Why the hell didn't you take the history!?" House exclaimed as the pair entered his office. "How hard is it? I had to have Kutner do it, and he just sucks at all that personal stuff," he continued to grumble.

"We're both taking the rest of the day off," Foreman simply stated, but House wasn't looking at him; he was looking at Thirteen. Her face reddened. Damn. He noticed.

"Were you crying?" Her boss asked in mock sympathy, putting all the emphasis on the word crying.

"We're leaving, House," was her reply.

"No," he said. "We have a case and I have to go bug Cuddy about booking the MRI room. It's full all day. Can't get the patient in, which inevitably means that you…"

"Great. We'll go with you and get Cuddy to give us the rest of the day off," she interrupted, smirking sardonically.

"Why?" House asked, his interest caught.

"Let's just say that I don't exactly get along with the patient," Thirteen stated plainly, and walked away with Foreman. House then limped after them as quickly as his leg would allow.

"Cuddy," said Foreman as he and Thirteen entered her office.

"Foreman, Dr. Hadley," she addressed, in the most professional manner. Before either of the young doctors had the opportunity to state their intentions, House burst into the room.

"Whatever they ask you for, don't let them have it!" he shouted melodramatically. "Unless it's a threesome," he added. "That would be fine as long as you let me watch."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "They haven't asked me for anything. Yet," she replied, the second sentence being more of an after thought. "What do you two want?"

"Remy and I would like the rest of the day off," he answered frankly as his boss cringed at hearing Thirteen's real name.

"No!" House cried. "They're not even going to have sex or do anything else that's even remotely interesting! They're just going back to Thirteen's apartment to mope about whatever it is they're moping about now."

Cuddy sighed, noting Thirteen's distraught appearance, a look of concern spreading over her features. It was odd to see the confident, detached woman in such a vulnerable state. "What's going on Dr. Hadley?"

"Nothing I would ever vocalize with House around," she said, glaring spears into the man in question. Cuddy took Thirteen around the shoulders and led her to the far side of the room, away from her employer.

"Believe it or not," the Dean whispered, "I care about the welfare of my employees. Whatever's happening, you can tell me." It was then Thirteen found that maybe the woman did like her more than she let on to.

She inhaled deeply before looking Cuddy straight in the eyes. Again, she could feel tears beginning to form. "I know the patient." She paused. "We went to high school together. And…" she could barely choke it out in the effort to control her emotions, "he forced me." God, this is pathetic, she couldn't help thinking. Crying like this is pathetic. I'm pathetic.

"What?!" House shouted, a few inches from her face. "I can't hear you from waayyy over here!" He smirked, and Thirteen knew that this was what he wanted all along, that he had wanted them to go to Cuddy's office with him, and that this had all been because he was curious and wanted to make her miserable.

"You would!" she spat at him venomously. Thirteen turned to leave after Cuddy nodded in approval, giving her and Foreman permission to skip work for the rest of the day. As soon as they were gone, House spoke up again.

"About my patient's MRI?"

Cuddy glared at him resentfully. "No, I'm not getting him in. After what you just did to Dr. Hadley…"

"Her name's Thirteen!" House cut in.

"And you obviously don't care, do you!"

"Nope."

"You're too insensitive to understand, I know, but this sort of thing emotionally scars a person. She's got enough on her plate; she's just starting to come to grips with her Huntington's diagnosis, she's just putting the pieces of her life back together after self-destructing."

"And I'm making her come to terms with reality," House replied arrogantly.

"You think you're helping?" Cuddy shot. "If anything, you're making it worse." Her expression drifted from one of anger to one of sadness at the younger doctor's predicament. House hobbled closer to her and lifted her chin with his middle and forefingers.

"She hates pity," he said as he brought his lips to hers, though she abruptly pulled away.

"Not at work," she whispered. "I'm not sure I want anyone to know yet." And with that, House backed away and changed the subject.

"You know, I am helping her. I told you, she doesn't like pity." As he left, Cuddy realized that House actually was trying to help Thirteen, by giving her just the sort hard time she needed.

It was just past noon and Foreman had taken Thirteen to her favorite Japanese restaurant for lunch. When they went out to eat, Foreman usually rejected any type of Asian food, so the fact that he had willingly brought her there was a small but powerful gesture of affection. She sat, quietly drinking her sake as they waited on their meal. "I can't believe House," she suddenly burst out, shaking her head in disgust. Some of the patrons seated at surrounding tables heard her and turned. She shied her eyes away from their glances sheepishly before turning back to Foreman. "I mean, I expected something, but tricking it out of me like that? It was low, even for him."

Foreman nodded. "This is bad. You don't want a lot of people to know, and I have no doubt that he'll spread it around the hospital."

"You want to know what happened after that night?" she asked.

"Only if you want to tell me," he replied lovingly.

"I woke up ass-naked with Jeremy. At first I thought it had all been some sort of twisted fantasy, but then I looked down and saw his hand around my waist and felt it. Then I was scared. I remembered what happened, and I was afraid that Brock would come back for me. I sat up and that woke Jeremy, who being a teenage boy, commenced staring at my boobs. Then he saw the look on my face and it was like he had forgotten what happened up until that moment, too. He just hugged me and said, 'I'm sorry I didn't come sooner.' And then his mom, who had realized that there had been a completely insane party and was searching for stragglers, walked in and, well, you can imagine how that would be sort of awkward."

"I little bit," Foreman replied, half smiling. "Did you two tell her about Brock?"

"No," Thirteen said. "We saw her and I tried to cover up as much as I could while Jeremy tried to tell her that it wasn't what it looked like. I'm actually pretty sure she believed him, because she looked almost understanding. I guess it might've had something to do with the fact that my eyes were still red and my face was streaked with tears and I had a fist sized bruise from where Brock hit me, and maybe that Jeremy wasn't naked. I remember the next thing out of her mouth was 'What happened?'. I just begged her not to tell my dad that she had seen me like that because I didn't want him to worry. I don't think she did because my dad never said anything to me. I know that she had figured out what happened and if he knew that I had been…" she stopped for a second, trying not to become emotional at uttering the next word on her tongue. "…that I had been rapped, he would have pushed it to court."

"Wait. You didn't file a case?" Foreman asked, astonished.

"I figured that it wouldn't make a difference. It had already happened. It wasn't like I had the option of going back and stopping myself from going to the party in the first place. I'm not a Time Lord or anything. I just…I don't know." As Thirteen spoke those last few words, the waiter came and delivered their food. The couple ate their meal in silence. When they had both finished and Foreman had paid the check, he began to talk again.

"Why would someone do something like that?" he asked. "Why would someone do something like that to a completely innocent person?"

"I don't know," was all Thirteen could say.

That night at her apartment, Thirteen watched Foreman as he prepared for bed. She needed a distraction from Brock, and from House. She just needed something. Realizing that what she was about to do was not only a distraction, but a testament of her feelings for him, she approached Foreman and drew him into a fiery embrace. Like always, when their lips met, sparks flew as she pushed him onto the bed. To her distaste however, he stopped. "Are you sure this is a good idea, after everything that's happened today?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"Yes," she answered as she kissed him again, this time more tenderly. "I'm sure this is a very good idea."