A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone. You guys are what keeps me writing! I know that this chapter is also short. I've been trying to keep up with one a week, but that's getting a little difficult. I've also noticed some typos and gramatic errors in previous chapters and apologize. This chapter gets a bit more in depth about Foreman's role in everything and the angst definately picks up. I'm not sure I'm happy about this chapter, but I'm also trying to work on two non-fanfic projects at the moment as well. Anyway, enjoy.

Foreman's Reflection

Foreman and House stood on the outside looking in as Thirteen delivered Brock and Natalie their fatal news. "Things are going to change now," House commented without looking away from the patient and Thirteen.

"What do you mean?" the other doctor asked.

"Well, we've found out of recent that her Huntington's isn't the only reason she's always been miserable. The patient tore her to pieces, and now he's as broken and vulnerable as she was when he nailed her. She's not going to be able to hate him now, no matter how much she wants to, and it's going to make her even more pathetic."

Foreman sighed and though about what House had said. He was right. Ever since he had first met her, the one thing that always managed to catch his attention, no matter what he was doing, was the beautiful sort of sadness that he found behind her eyes, praying to be concealed while simultaneously trying to push through the barriers that held it back. It was at that moment that Foreman realized something. Thirteen would never be contented, even with him around to love her. He didn't want her to be sad forever. He didn't want her to unearth even more misery within her existence. Foreman looked House in the eye and began to speak, his voice trembling with his realization. "Even when she's happy, she's not happy. She's never been happy. She may never be happy."

"Is she happy when you have sex?"

"Very, but…"

"So there," House interrupted. "She's been happy. If you want her to be happy, have more sex. You might as well kill two birds with one stone and make me happy letting me watch."

"But," Foreman said, picking up where he left off, "It's a temporary happiness, like a high. She's never continuously happy." Just then the pair heard Natalie burst out sobbing into Brock's shoulder, Thirteen's face an expression of remorse. "Maybe you and Cameron have it right when it comes to religion, because I can't imagine what kind of God would inflict so much suffering on such a perfect, amazing person."

"You think she's perfect? You're that in love?" House said sarcastically.

"Yeah," Foreman replied, despite his boss's cynicism.

"Love makes people do stupid things. And she's miserable."

"I know. But I'd do all the stupid things I could for her and I don't care as long as I can be miserable with her." He paused, staring at House, who appeared to be deep in thought. "What?"

"Maybe that's why you love her. Because she's miserable. You're not exactly Wilson. You don't need needy. But you like to have something besides yourself to live for. You feed off her angst just like she feeds off your comfort. And no matter how much you both love each other, your relationship is a time bomb."

Foreman remembered Chase saying the same thing, yet somehow, it was only beginning to sink in now. "I know," he said, having finally figured out what House was up to with his niceness. He was trying to prepare he and Thirteen for when it happened, for the onset of her symptoms and her inevitable death. Foreman decided that he would keep his conversation with House to himself, not wanting to add to his girlfriend's burden.

Thirteen emerged from Brock's room, trying to hold back the tears that burned behind her eyes, the tears she knew shouldn't be there. She knew Brock wasn't sorry for what he did, but she was still about to cry for him. The only person she had ever truly cried for was herself; she hadn't even shed a tear at her mother's funeral. I'm selfish, so selfish. The world deserves more from me. She was angry with herself. I'm a hypocrite.

"Hey," Foreman said softly as he embraced her. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine," she whispered into his neck, where she discreetly placed a gentle kiss. "It's them I'm worri3ed about. They're taking it pretty hard. They said yes to the surgery, though. It'll give him maybe ten more years, but he'll still die and I'll feel like crap when he does because I'll never be able to forgive him."

"You shouldn't feel bad. None of this is your fault. Now c'mon. Let's get some lunch." The couple then departed for the cafeteria, his arm around her shoulder, House watching as they left. He knew he had done his job. He didn't want anymore moping doctors.

It was later that day and Thirteen was feeling better about herself. She decided to look in on Brock and Natalie before Brock went in for surgery. When she arrived at the room, however, she found something that she didn't expect. I thought he left, she thought as her face contorted into a scowl. There, through the glass, she could see Jeremy. Thirteen stormed into the room just in time to hear him shout a chain of obscenities at Brock as Natalie gaped in horrible astonishment. "Stop!" the woman shouted, angry at seeing her boyfriend reduced to a verbal punching bag.

"Jeremy!" Thirteen screamed, the man turning at recognizing her voice.

"Remy! I was just…"

"I thought we told you to get out!"

"No! This guy raped you, and now you're his doctor, taking care of him. I don't know about you, but I see something wrong with that. You're a hypocrite," Jeremy said, echoing her thoughts from earlier. "Why do you care?"

"We've found ourselves in similar situations," she mumbled, barely audible.

Jeremy laughed, seeing through her poorly placed mask. "He's dying. He's dying!" His initial joy gave way to hysterics.

"You creep!" Thirteen, without thinking, raised her fist, and to the surprise of Natalie and Brock, punched Jeremy as hard as she could across the face, forcing him off balance and even knocking loose a tooth. Jeremy was obviously taken aback by her actions and was unable to stifle a gasp. "Now go!" she shouted, enraged and breathing hard. She looked up at Brock. "I know you're still not sorry, but he was over the line." He nodded as she left for the ER.

"Thirteen!" Cameron said, surprised by the appearance of the other doctor. "What's up?"

"I need you to take care of something," Thirteen replied, holding up her bloody right fist.

"What happened?" she asked, leading the other doctor to an empty patient bed.

"I punched someone," Thirteen answered as she sat.

"Punched someone?"

"Yep."

"Who?"

"That guy," Thirteen said, pointing with her good hand, leading Cameron's gaze to Jeremy, who was approaching them with Cuddy at her side.

"Dr. Hadley," the Dean half greeted before getting to her point. "What's going on here?"

A/N2: Okay. So is Cuddy angry? What will happen to Thirteen? *Oh, the suspense!* Really, is it just me or was Thirteen going a bit overboard with the self-loathing in the last few chapters. I feel more angst coming on! Now hit the review button. You know you want to!