-8-

"House woke up in agonizing pain. He cried out.

"Stay still." Chase was trying to put the IV back into his arm.

"Why'd you take it out," House protested, not sure which hurt him more, the leg or the liver.

"I didn't. You were thrashing around in your sleep. It fell out."

"Well it wasn't put in very well then was it?" House snapped, in no mood to be considerate.

"Do you want me to nail you to the bed with it next time?" Chase was also in no mood.

"I want you to put it in so it stays in." House was feeling a bit better now, but it was a very small bit. "What time is it?" He looked around for a clock.

"It's ten past ten. Your surgery is in two hours and fifty minutes."

Cuddy met the helicopter on the roof. "Is that it?" She asked the young woman who climbed off carrying a fancy cooler with medical patches all over it.

"It is. Are you Dr. Cuddy?"

"Yes." Cuddy showed her credentials and they exchanged brief pleasantries as the liver exchanged hands.

"Dr. Forester says you owe him dinner."

"I owe him more than dinner." Cuddy nodded a goodbye and hurried the organ downstairs.

Wilson had cancelled all his appointments that day. He had to be there for House. He paced his office nervously, waiting for the hour to come. He kept telling himself that it was going to be okay, that House was going to be okay. He kept trying to find a way to put this on him. To find some blame in the matter.

"I shouldn't have sent him those pills." He muttered to himself irrationally.

Wilson had projected so much onto House in the past ten years. After his brother ran off, which was right around the time he'd first met House, he felt lost. Wilson had spent so much time looking after Bobby, trying to get him to clean up, trying to protect him from their parent's disappointment. When Bobby left, Wilson felt lost and more alone than he'd ever felt.

Then House came into his life. A troubled, broken man fresh from a surgery that would leave him crippled for the rest of his life. Wilson couldn't help but pour all his time and attention into House, his new Bobby. All the love he felt for his little brother, and all the resentment, were funneled into his relationship with House. All his doting, all his attempts to control House, to make him better, were all vicarious acts meant for his drug addicted brother.

Maybe that's why Wilson let it go on for so long, let House slip so far down before he tried to help. Maybe he needed House to hit the same rock bottom that his brother had hit. Maybe this was all his fault.

Chase had been given permission to assist in House's surgery after persistently stalking Cuddy until she agreed. He was now scrubbing up.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cameron asked him anxiously, watching him wash his hands thoroughly.

"Cuddy wants someone who knows him to be there." At least she did after he convinced her to.

"Dr. Walsh knows him."

"Someone who knows him and still likes him," Chase corrected himself.

"Don't let anything go wrong." She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"I won't." They both knew he couldn't promise that, but they both felt a little bit better going through the motions. "Besides, you'll be up there watching over me the whole time."

"I wish I could do more." She frowned.

"Just try not to antagonize Cuddy too much, okay?" Chase knew how Cameron could get.

"I wouldn't…"

"Just stay quiet." She had a way of antagonizing people without meaning to. It was because she was so opinionated, and felt the whole world should hear every opinion that popped into her head. He found it adorable, but he was pretty sure Cuddy didn't share his affections.

"Fine," she pouted. "I'd better go up. It's almost time." She was nervous. She hadn't really known House that long really, only a small fraction of her time on Earth, but she couldn't imagine her life without him. It wasn't love, anymore, but there was still a deep affection. She still cared about him and wasn't ready to go on without him there, on the periphery, pushing her to be the best she could be.

Cuddy paced back and forth as Dr. Walsh went over the procedure with her. She wanted to make sure there was no chance of a screw up.

"You hired me because I'm the best." Like House, Dr. Karen Walsh was not a modest doctor. "I'm not going to screw this up."

"I know." Cuddy shook off her doubts. Every doctor in this hospital was tops in their field. From the day she took charge she had made it a point to go after high profile doctors. High profile doctors brought in high profile donors and high profile donors brought in mega millions. "I'm just worried."

"He's going to be fine." Dr. Walsh was staking her reputation on it. "He's too damned miserable to die."

Cuddy smiled. "He'd like that reasoning." She looked over at House. "Take care of him."

"I will do everything I can." Walsh gently pushed her boss out of the room and finished prepping for surgery.

The observation room had already begun to fill up when Cuddy arrived. Wilson was down front talking to Lo. Damien was lingering in the doorway and House's team both old and new were talking amongst themselves. Everyone stopped when Cuddy entered.

"Don't do that," Cuddy moaned. Their confused expressions made her finish her thought. "Don't act like this is his funeral and that I'm some sad widow you all have to be careful not to upset."

"We weren't…" Wilson started to protest.

"Of course we were." Damien came over and put his arm around his friend. "This isn't a sympathy hug. This is an I like being close to you hug." He wrapped her in a big bear hug.

"Why aren't you down there?" Cameron blurted out. She hadn't meant it to sound accusatory, it just did.

"What?" Cuddy turned and looked at her.

"You're Dean of Medicine. You can pull rank. You should be down there with him?" Cameron would be by his side. It would have taken the Jaws of Life to pull them apart.

"He wouldn't want me to be." Cuddy felt cold all of a sudden.

"You could…" Foreman pulled Cameron back and shushed her.

"She means well," Wilson whispered in Cuddy's ear.

"I know."

Everyone watched quietly. The young doctors watched with a combination of medical curiosity and concern for the former or current employer as Dr. Walsh pulled out his dying liver and replaced it with a new one. Wilson watched the tips of his shoes, unable to take the sight of his friend like that. Lo and Damien both watched Cuddy. They had more of a vested interest in what she was going through than what was happening in the operating theater below.

Cuddy was staring at her husband's face. His eyes were closed as he'd been put under. His face was craggy and worn. He looked older than she'd ever seen him. He almost looked like a corpse. She had to choke back the tears as she tried to think of him as anything but a corpse. The more she tried not to think of that, the more she thought of it.

"Here, take this." Lo pushed something into her friend's hand.

"What is it?" Cuddy looked down at the unfamiliar little pill.

"You're better off not knowing." Lo said mysteriously.

"She doesn't need pills," Damien said authoritatively. "What she needs is for everyone to stop fretting over her." He ignored the hypocrisy of the fact that he was doing as much fretting as anybody.

"All I need is for House to be alright." She was looking through the glass, down at the operating table. He looked so helpless, so small. She put her hand up to the glass, wanting to touch him, to hold him in her arms and tell him she would do whatever it took to save him.

"I know." Damien put his arm around her, carefully taking the pills away, just in case. "Take these back," he whispered to Lo, shoving them in her hand.

"He's going to be fine," Wilson assured her, trying to convince himself at the same time. "Walsh can do this operation in her sleep."

"I know." Cuddy said, still not ready to relax. Not until Dr. Walsh looked up and gave the all clear signal. That was when Cuddy let out a great sigh while those around her made equally relieved sounds and expressions.

"I'm going to go down and check on him." Cuddy left first. Wilson wanted to check on him too, but felt that Cuddy should have some time alone with her husband before they all bombarded him. In that vein, he held back the younger doctors who were enthusiastic to go say hi.

Wilson watched from the observation room, thinking about how close he'd come to losing his friend. He wasn't paying attention to the barrage of questions being fired off from the younger doctors as he watched Cuddy talking to a groggy House. He vaguely wondered what she was saying to him. He wondered if any of it would make House change his mind.

Cuddy was smiling down at him as House slowly opened his eyes. If he believed in such things, he imagined this would be what it was like to see an angel. There was a glow about her that seemed otherworldly, making her the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Cuddy," he mumbled, half aware of his surroundings and half in a dream.

"I'm here," she said eagerly. She was so happy to hear his voice, to see his blue eyes, bleary as they may be. "I'll always be here."

He was too out of it to respond. He was too out of it to be angry at her for standing by him. All he felt in that moment was his overpowering love for her. All he wanted to do was hold her in his weak arms and never let her go. "I'm tired."

"I know." She laughed sweetly. He was his old, crotchety self. "We'll get you to your room and you can sleep for a while."

House did sleep, for hours. Cuddy sat by his bed. Wilson paced the small hospital room anxiously. Damien went and got refreshments and food for everyone and Lo tried to cheer everyone up with stories of her latest trip.

"I met this guy at the bar…"

"Of course you did," Cuddy laughed gently. She was feeling better now, knowing House was safe, but his words still nagged at the back of her mind. She pushed them away and focused on Lo's story.

"He was hung like an ox." Lo was ignoring the fact that Wilson was in the room, and that Wilson was still pining for her. She had told him to stop. She had explained to him how they would never work because she did not need to be rescued from anything as her life was quite perfect the way it was. "And he had stamina like you wouldn't believe."

Cuddy was aware of the tension coming from Wilson's side of the room. He had his backs to them, staring out the window, but she could see his shoulders tightened and hunched and his whole body seemed short and compact like he was folding up.

"I really don't need to hear about that right now," Cuddy said tactfully, looking at Wilson.

Lo followed her gaze. "Oh, of course not. So how was the honeymoon?" She had yet to be filled in on all that had happened. She was away on business and had cut her trip short when she heard the news.

"Good." Cuddy was holding House's hand tightly.

"Just good?" Lo flopped into a chair disappointedly.

"Considering it ended in an emergency liver transplant, yeah, just good."

"I meant other than that." Lo rolled her eyes. "How was the sex?"

Cuddy giggled girlishly. "Wilson can't handle hearing about the sex." Both women looked over at Wilson.

"What's going on?" Damien had returned with sandwiches for all. He passed them out as he tried to read the room.

"Hey," House's weak voice pulled all their attention. "That was gonna be my line."

"House!" Cuddy thrust her body excitedly toward him.

House let the warmth of her body wash over him for a moment. It would be the last time he would ever feel those arms around him or the sweet warmth of her breath on his cheek. He was about to do something he knew would prevent it from ever happening again.

In his mind, he knew it was stupid. In his heart, he knew it would kill him, and yet something compelled him. Something told him it had to be done. If he didn't do it now, he would lose his nerve. He pushed her away harshly. "I thought I told you to leave me alone!"

Everyone's eyes grew wide. It was clear who he was talking to, and after all she'd done for him, they were all speechless.

"Get out!" He yelled. He didn't care if they all went with her, but he couldn't bear to look at her, at the pain he was causing her, so visible in her beautiful face. "And don't come back!"

"Don't do this House," Wilson warned him.

"If you don't like it, you can go too." House couldn't handle Wilson's righteous indignation right now. "All of you. GET OUT!"

"It's just the drugs, and the pain," Lo was ushering Cuddy out of the room quickly. "Let's give him some time to cool off."

"I'm not cooling off," House called out after them, laying the bastard on thick this time, hoping it would be the last.

"She saved your life." Wilson tried to reason with his friend.

"I never asked her to."

"That's the point, House! You don't have to ask her. She would do anything for you." Wilson was exasperated. It was like talking to a wall sometimes.

"Well tell her to stop." House turned his back as much as he could in his present, tube fed condition. It was an indication that the conversation was over so Wilson dutifully left.

House waited a few minutes to be sure no one came back before straightening out again. "Oh, what the hell do you want?"

Damien hadn't left with the others. He had stood quietly in a corner waiting for them all to go. Now he was staring down at House. He could be a very intimidating figure when he wanted to be, and House felt even more helpless laying in that bed with no choice but to look up at him.

House tried to out stare him. Damien's dark eyes remained fixed upon him, unwavering. Even from a distance House could see that there was an angry storm swirling behind them, and he knew it was headed straight for him.

Damien stood silent for so long that when he finally spoke it was jarring, and his voice was so slow and methodical that House felt he was about to be murdered. "You are one stupid little shit."

"Thanks for the personality assessment, but you're a little late. That cat has been out of the bag for years." House was trying to make light of his terror. He knew of Damien's feelings for Cuddy and was one hundred percent certain he would kill for her.

Damien sat down quietly, his eyes still burning into the 'stupid little shit' in the bed before him.

"I'll call for the nurse," House threatened.

Damien took a deep breath. "You need to stop pushing her away because one day you might just succeed in breaking her down, and if you do, I will find you and kill you." Damien had never hurt anyone in his life, but he knew he was an intimidating figure and sometimes used that to his advantage.

"I'd thought you'd be happy that she's free now."

Damien snorted a disbelieving laugh. "She's not free. She'll never truly be free from you House. It doesn't matter what you do to her. You're like one of those infections that you never really get rid of. The symptoms might appear to go away, and on the surface she might appear to move on and find someone new, she might even seem happy, but you'll always there, like an infection, lying dormant just beneath the surface.

"Don't pretend you're being noble. Don't kid yourself into thinking you're saving her by letting her go. You're only condemning her to a loneliness that will never go away no matter who tries to quell it. So stop being so fucking self absorbed and think about what you're doing to her, the woman you clearly love." House tried to say something, but Damien wasn't going to let him talk his way out of any of this, and steamrolled on. "And I don't mean doing what YOU think is best for them. I don't know how to break it to you House, but you're not God. You don't know what's best for yourself, so how the hell can you possibly know what's best for her?" House opened his mouth but Damien lurched forward. The fright caused House to shut his mouth again quickly.

"Lisa deserves to be with the man she loves, and despite all the many reasons not to, she loves YOU. You should feel like the luckiest man in the world. You should be thanking your lucky stars that she hasn't come to her senses and walked out on your sorry ass. Instead you wallow in whatever sick, twisted bitterness you can muster and make her, yourself and every one else miserable.

"Well, Dr. House, it's time to pull your head out of your ass and be the man she deserves. Step up to the plate and take a chance. It's the least she deserves. And you know what? You deserve it too." Damien didn't hate House, despite his somewhat cruel rant; he respected the man who had been through so much, even if most of it seemed self inflicted. He just wished House would wake up and get on with his life.

"I can't be that man." House mumbled, finally able to get in a word or five.

Damien shook his head disgustedly. "You're full of excuses. She wouldn't put up with you if you couldn't be that man. It's time to stop hiding House. If you don't step up to the plate, I will, and you will lose her forever."

"You just said I'd never lose her."

"No. I said she'd never get over you. Trust me, there is a difference." With that Damien left. He knew enough about House to know that he could talk his way out of almost anything and he wasn't going to give him the chance. He needed to think about what he was really doing. He needed to understand what he was about to give up.

In the stillness of his hospital room, House began to cry. It was something that had happened so seldom in his life that at first he wasn't sure what it was. Then, as the tears began to burn his cheeks he cursed himself for his weakness.

"Real men don't cry," he could hear his father saying as he tried to build young Greg into a 'real man'. House usually retorted with something like "Real men don't abuse their children," or "Real men don't spend their time playing with toy trains." It was a lame comeback, but House had been a child, and hadn't been born with his quick wit. It was something he had worked hard to develop over the years.

He squinted through the haze and saw his father staring down at him. He knew perfectly well his father wasn't there. Cuddy had called them, against his orders, but they were on a cruise somewhere in the Pacific and couldn't make it back in time. There was no way his father was going to cut his expensive holiday short just because his only son's life was in jeopardy.

"She deserves a lot better than you," John House said in that dismissive, cruel way of his. "Ha, I shot better men than you in Korea forty years ago."

"I know," House mumbled. He'd heard how he was lower than the lowest, shadiest, dirtiest fighting North Korean soldier in the war.

"You're not even good enough to walk on your own two feet. How can you be expected to provide for her?"

"Ike has been out of office for years Dad, and women aren't wearing pearls and aprons in the kitchen anymore. Cuddy is perfectly capable of providing for herself." No one accused his wife of being weak.

"Oh, I see, so you expect her to take care of you; to spend the rest of her life as your nurse maid?" John House wasn't quite this cruel in real life, but in House's head, every small burn had grown immeasurable as the years of silence between them grew. His father had become a monster in his memories, and that was just as bad as if he really had been.

"She has done more for me than you ever have, and I never expected any of it. She does it because she loves me. She loves me Dad. Are you even remotely familiar with that emotion?"

"And this is how you repay her?" John snorted dismissively. Everything he did toward his son was dismissive. That part was true of both House's hallucination of his father and the real thing. John was never satisfied with anything his son did, and young Greg had spent his entire youth trying very hard to perpetuate that by purposely underachieving. If his father wanted a failure as a son, House was more than happy to oblige.

"You're not going to do this to me anymore!" House had had enough. He willed his father away. Not just out of his room, but out of his head for good. Cuddy believed in him, and it was time he made her stop regretting it.

"CUDDDDDDDYYYYY?" House called out her name. He needed to see her.

Cuddy was curled up on her office couch crying when Damien finally joined them. Lo was pouring drinks. "I'm getting her out of here. Wanna come?"

"I think we should wait." Damien motioned for Lo to pour him one and she did.

"Wait for what?" Lo walked a glass over to Cuddy.

"Just wait." Damien sat on the other side of Cuddy. They were her armed sentries, protecting her from as much as they could.

"Did you poison his IV?" Lo asked hopefully.

"Don't." Cuddy didn't want to hear any more about killing House for being such an insensitive ass.

"He deserves it Lisa." Lo was sick of giving House the benefit of the doubt. She'd never liked him, and always knew this day would come, and she wasn't feeling any satisfaction in being proven right.

"I said stop!" Cuddy drained her glass and slammed it on the coffee table. "I've had enough. I know he isn't perfect. I know he can be an asshole sometimes. But I love him, and I am not going to let him decide the rest of my life." She got up and headed stridently toward the door.

House was arguing with the nurse when Cuddy walked in. "Out!" She said authoritatively and sent the young subordinate scurrying.

"Where the hell have you been?" House was not a happy man.

"In my office."

"She said…"

"She was following my orders House." Cuddy sat down. She was trying to remain calm, not get emotional, but seeing him in the hospital bed brought back a flood of emotions.

"You were trying to avoid me." House knew why, and he didn't blame her, but it still stung.

"You wanted me to leave you alone."

"But you're here now." House lifted one eyebrow. Why was she here?

"Because you don't get to make all the decisions in this relationship House. I have a say too, whether you like it or not."

He liked it very much, but he kept that to himself. "Why would you even want to speak to me after what I said?"

Cuddy couldn't look him in the eye. "Because I know you didn't really mean it."

"I did…at the time." He mumbled quietly, but she'd heard him.

"Yes, but people are not defined by a moment House. I'd like to think we're more complex than that."

"WE certainly are," he replied, indicating their very tumultuous relationship.

"I just want to know why you said it?" She glanced quickly into his eyes but had to look away, afraid of what she might see in them. "As far as I can see, there are only three possible reasons. The first being that you really don't love me and do want me out of your life, but if that were true you never would have married me. You are not a man who gets himself caught up in something he doesn't want to be caught up in."

"I did want to marry you Cuddy…I do want to be married to you." He noticed her cringe at his use of past tense and corrected himself quickly.

"The second option is that you think I don't love you enough, and that you're testing me. You want me to leave you either to prove you right, or because you think I will eventually leave you and want to get it over with."

"I'm not that stupid," he said, half believing it.

A sad laugh escaped her lips. "That's debatable." She was feeling more confident as she went on. This time she looked him straight in the eye. She wanted the truth and she felt this was it. "The third option is that you want to free me from the burden of being with you." House shrunk a little into his bed but didn't say a word. "But that isn't your choice to make House. And if you have any respect for me at all, you will stop being an ass and let me decide who I want to spend my life with."

"You're right." He sounded broken down, beaten. He hated admitting that anyone other than him could be right about something.

"That's it?" She was slightly annoyed.

"No. I've been punishing you, for ten years, for not finding the infarction sooner, for letting your idiot surgeon hack into my leg, and for conspiring behind my back."

"I…" she didn't know how to respond to that. She'd never seen him this raw.

"I know. You were my doctor. You did what you had to do to keep me alive. But as my friend, you betrayed me."

"I'm so sorry House." She began to cry gentle, sad tears as the memory of that time came back.

"STOP BEING SORRY!" He couldn't stand it anymore. "You're a doctor, damn it. You did the right thing. You saved my life."

"But I was also your friend, and I let you down."

"I would have done the same damn thing!" House was angry, all the old emotions were being stirred up. Usually he would shut down, stop talking to her, push her away, but Damien was right. If he kept doing that he would lose her. It was time to try something new, honesty. And man did it hurt.

"If it had been Wilson lying there, I would have knocked him out with a club to get him into surgery. You did what you had to do Cuddy. Stop apologizing for it."

"I..." She wanted to say she was sorry, but realized this wasn't the time.

"Don't you dare say it!" House was talking through gritted teeth. "I am sick of you saying you're sorry. Don't be sorry. Be proud of what you did. Stand by your decision."

"But you didn't want the surgery." She didn't know what he was trying to say anymore.

"I was wrong!" House froze. He'd finally said it out loud. "I was wrong," he repeated quietly. "I was prepared to die to save my stupid leg. I wasn't thinking clearly. What is it I taught you about listening to patients?"

"Patients are idiots." She smiled weakly.

"Yes." He was proud of her. Despite everything he was proud that she stood by what she believed in, as a doctor. He'd never told her that. He'd always made her feel like shit for that decision, because it had affected him. "I'm not exempt from that." The more he admitted his infallibility, the easier it was becoming. "I was an idiot."

"I was selfish." If he was going to be honest, she should try it too. "I didn't want you to die. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"Then we're both idiots." House smiled. He felt…lighter. Like something heavy and oppressive had been lifted off of his chest. "Come here and give me a kiss." He wanted to grab her and pull her to him, but he was still too physically weak from the surgery.

She was crying as they kissed, hot tears of relief ran down her cheeks and slid into his mouth. They were salty on his tongue as it slipped past her lips. He had never needed the taste of her more than in that moment. It was a desperate kiss, a release of all the anger and bitterness that had built up in all those years of not speaking about the giant albatross that stalked them. They had just survived one of those moments that would have torn a lesser couple apart, and this kiss was a celebration of their victory.

When she finally pulled away, only because she was running out of oxygen and needed to catch her breath, she was smiling. Not just a weak upturn of the lips either. Her whole face was smiling, her eyes gleamed brightly, her skin seemed radiant, and her beautiful soft lips where spread over perfect white teeth.

"I forgive you for saving my life." It sounded stupid out loud, but he felt she had to hear it.

"I forgive you for pushing me away. Just don't do it again," she teased.

"Only if you promise not to save my life again," he teased back.

"I can't promise you that."

"I know." He smiled. "That's why I love you." He kissed her again. He'd missed the taste of her lips, the smell of her so close to him, the feeling of her warm body in his arms. He never wanted to live without her.