Cuddy opened her eyes again. She looked around and saw that she was sitting in what, at first glance, appeared to be a replica of her office. On closer inspection, she noticed that with the exception of her desk, every piece of furniture was gray. She also noticed that the books on her shelves lacked titles, standing in as hollow shapes rather than tomes of medical knowledge. She attempted to turn on the computer but found it nonfunctional.
She leaned back against her chair. Its familiar contour, once supportive and comfortable, now felt strange to her. She sat completely still for a few moments, half expecting House to barge in, asking for permission to perform a radical test or procedure. As she stared at the door, she could not help but notice the absolute silence permeating the office, broken only by the sound of her breathing.
Not feeling faint anymore, she rose from the chair and attempted to open the blinds. They were sealed shut. Wrapping her robe around herself more tightly, she walked to the front of her office and attempted to open the door. The knob would not turn.
She began hitting the door with the palm of her hand. "Hello?! Can someone hear me? House!" She continued to hit the door and call out for help. After a minute, she stopped and tried to take a few deep breaths.
She walked to the couch and sat down. Scanning the room with her eyes, she found the familiar layout to be completely cold and empty. This space, where she had spent the majority of her wildly successful career, suddenly became devoid of meaning.
"I don't want to be here," she whispered to herself. "Please, House, where are you?"
House held Cuddy close as he tried to block out the loud drone of the hospital. He was settled in on her right side, his right arm draped over her abdomen possessively. After much argument with the ICU staff and with Wilson, he had convinced everyone his occupation of her bed would help her more than harm her.
"I'm here," he declared quietly into her ear. He caressed her left arm with his thumb.
"I was thinking of putting the piano by the fireplace," he continued softly, his voice almost cracking. His eyes glistened with tears as he tried to talk about their future, his words sounding hollow against the monotonous pumping of the ventilator.
"You're trying to make the story real. Good for you."
House turned his head with some trepidation.
Kutner, dressed in a graphic tee and jeans, was resting comfortably at the foot of Cuddy's hospital bed.
"You shouldn't be here. I went through rapid detox …"
"Don't worry, House. I won't be here for long. Your brain is healing."
House threw his head back down against the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Closing your eyes isn't going to make me go away faster. Besides, it's better that I'm here instead of Amber." Kutner took a candy bar out of his pocket and unwrapped it.
"True," House said, opening his eyes again.
"She had great legs, but dude, sometimes she was evil," Kutner said, his mouth full with chocolate, nougat, and caramel.
House grunted in agreement. He looked longingly at Cuddy.
"We all knew you and Cuddy had a thing for each other," Kutner said smiling. "I don't blame you for liking her. She's hot and sassy. If I had a death wish, I would have asked her out."
House's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at him again.
"Bad joke, sorry," Kutner added with a faint smile still on his lips. He took another bite of his candy bar.
"So what is this, my brain wanting closure?" House asked in a biting tone.
"It is what it is. You miss me. And you want to know why I did it."
"Why did you do it?" House looked at Kutner, his eyes bright with the fire of curiosity.
"It's a mystery to you. One that you will never be able to solve. It is what I had to do for myself. You will never understand it because you are wired differently. And it's okay not to understand."
"No, it's not."
"You don't think it's okay because you devote your life to finding answers. You try to replace the pain in your life with the satisfaction of being right. You hide in the puzzles. But look at what's happened. Your brain, the one thing you have relied on all your life ... has finally failed you."
Silence.
"To help you, I'm not going to tell you why I did it. Think of this as a wake-up call. You consciously define yourself by your intellect, and maybe it's time to re-define yourself."
"I'm not having a midlife crisis," he responded bitterly.
"Uh, yeah, you kind of are, House. You are lost without your mojo. You have no idea who you are right now. By definition, that's a crisis."
"And how is this badgering supposed to help?" House asked in a combative voice.
"You can pull yourself out of this by listening to another side of yourself. Here's a question for you. Every day that you're in pain you choose life over death: why do you do that?"
"Because living in misery is marginally better than dying in misery."
"That's what you think, but why?"
"If I'm alive, I can solve another puzzle."
"One puzzle isn't really worth more than another puzzle. You've spent years solving medical mysteries. You've already proven to yourself you can solve them. There must be something else driving you to live. You must have hope for something else."
"Didn't I ever tell you that hope is for sissies?" House asked derisively.
"Are you calling yourself a sissy?" Kutner countered.
House rolled his eyes. "Amber wasn't this annoying. Maybe you two should switch places now."
"I'm not giving up." Kutner took another bite of his candy bar. "You choose life because you have hope, even if it's a tiny hope, that maybe one day you'll redeem yourself and find happiness."
"And you didn't have any hope?"
"You're not getting the point. This isn't about me. Stop trying to figure out why I did it."
House groaned in frustration.
"Happiness is lying right next to you." Kutner nodded towards Cuddy.
"If you haven't noticed, I'm already trying to start something with her, so really this talk is pointless. You weren't always the quickest on the pick-up."
Kutner ignored the insult and continued, "You may be trying to start something with Cuddy, but eventually you always hurt the people closest to you by not believing in them. When you stop believing in them, you throw up your walls and push them away. Like you did with Stacey."
"How do you know about Stacey?"
"I'm part of your brain, remember?"
House sighed. "She betrayed my trust."
"She did what she thought was best for you. You refused to forgive her because her decision hurt you. You then perpetuated the hurt by driving her away. When she came back into your life, you pushed her away again to avoid getting hurt for a third time, but you ended up in pain anyway."
"Thanks for the summary of my love life," House muttered sarcastically. "What's your point?"
"My point is that you need to have a little faith in other people, and in the possibility of things actually working out."
"Seriously?"
"I'm dead serious," Kutner said with a smile, causing House to roll his eyes. "Sorry, another bad joke. You have another chance at love now. Don't screw it up."
House confessed quietly, "I don't know if I deserve her."
"After everything you've been through, she's still by your side. She still thinks you're worth saving. Let her decide if you deserve her. Just try your best to make things work."
"And if they don't work?"
"It's not the law of the universe that happy endings exist only in fairy tales. You have your own free will. You get to choose your own ending. My ending was different, but that was the ending I chose for myself. It had nothing to do with you."
House nodded quietly.
Kutner finished the candy bar and placed the wrapper back in his pocket. He added, "It's time for me to leave. Go easy on the Vicodin. Your mojo will return eventually." He got up from the bed. "I do hope your piano will fit in her living room."
House sat up and saw Amber on the other side of the glass. She motioned for Kutner to follow her. "Goodbye, House. Take care of yourself," Kutner said with a small smile.
"Goodbye, Kutner."
Kutner joined Amber on the other side of the glass, and they walked away.
"House is talking to himself," Taub said with concern in his voice. "I don't think the detox worked."
"Give him time," Foreman said. He looked at Thirteen, who had been unusually quiet over the past thirty six hours. The shock of House's deterioration, a reminder of her imminent mortality, hit her hard. Foreman placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Go home, you guys. I'll monitor them tonight," Taub said, noticing Foreman's concern about Thirteen. "I'll see you in the morning."
Foreman and Thirteen nodded. Taub turned back to look at House and Cuddy through the glass. He saw House kiss her cheek. Taub smiled to himself as he walked away to get a cup of coffee for the evening.
Still sitting on her office couch, Cuddy brought her hand to her right cheek. A feeling of warmth coursed through her body, giving her a jolt of energy. She walked back over to the replica of her desk. The black and brown finish stood out against the gray of the room.
She ran her fingers along the edge of it, allowing them to wander along the underside of the top piece. As she approached the side opposite to her chair, she felt a strip of cool metal disrupting the texture of the wood. Getting down on her knees, she looked up and saw a shiny brass plate that said, "Twenty years later is better than never."
Her mouth dropped in surprise.
"I'm glad you finally noticed," House said, standing behind her. She turned around quickly. Unable to suppress her sudden happiness, she ran to him.
"House? House, wake up," Taub said loudly. He rubbed his sternum. No response. "What happened?" Taub asked a nurse.
"He got up from Dr. Cuddy's bed and collapsed. His blood pressure was low but is slowly climbing now."
"Orthostatic hypotension," Taub muttered to himself, shaking his head. "I leave for one minute and look at what ..."
"You're back. I didn't know what happened …" Cuddy said, crushing her body against House's in a tight embrace. House planted multiple kisses on her forehead and cheek.
He closed his eyes as he pressed his head against hers. Speaking softly into her ear, he said, "I woke up in the ICU. We're next to each other in there. I think I passed out again when I tried to get up."
"So you're okay. Thank God." Cuddy pressed her lips against his tenderly and smiled. He held her head in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Cuddy, you need to fight. I don't want to go back there without you."
Her smile faded. "How bad is it?"
"You're on a vent without sedation, and you haven't woken up. Your lungs are clearing though, so if you do wake up you may be able to breathe on your own." House kissed her lips. "You need to fight."
Cuddy nodded her head, her eyes filled with tears. Resting his forehead against hers, he tried to smile. "Why are we in your office? What happened to the other room with the bed?"
"I have no idea," she replied with a small laugh and buried her face against House's chest. After a few moments of silence, Cuddy said quietly, "I never thanked you for the desk. It was very thoughtful of you." She gave him another soft kiss on the lips and threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
Smiling against her hair, he said, "I have some ideas for how you can really thank me for the desk."
"Oh, do you now?" she purred.
Feeling the room shift, he quickly kissed her right cheek again and said frantically as he felt himself fading, "Come back with me!"
House opened his eyes and saw Wilson towering over him. "You're not getting out of bed again," Wilson said admonishingly.
"Cuddy …" House whispered hoarsely.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah you want to be with Cuddy. Do you know how lucky you are …"
"How is she?" House asked with effort.
Cuddy's ventilator started to beep. "She's fighting the vent!" Taub shouted. He ran to her bedside. "Dr. Cuddy, open your eyes if you can hear me. Open your eyes!"
Wilson also ran to her bed.
Relief washed over House's body. He tried to sit up but felt dizzy and was forced to lie back down. "Cuddy!!" he yelled.
Cuddy's eyelids began to flutter. She finally opened her eyes slowly and started to cough against the breathing tube. Taub unhooked her from the vent.
"Let's extubate her," Wilson said to the nurses.
Cuddy reached out and grabbed Wilson's hand.
"You're okay, Lisa. Are you in pain?" he asked with concern in his eyes.
She shook her head no and squeezed his hand.
"You're going to be fine."
She squeezed his hand harder. Finally understanding what she was trying to ask, he said, "House is fine. He's right there. Let's get this tube out of you first before you see him."
She closed her eyes in relief and squeezed Wilson's hand once more.
"You're welcome," he said kindly.