CHAPTER 9:

A dark road indeed it has been for House thus far. But today will be the first day that there is light at the end of the tunnel. As he walked into Dr. Scott's office for what would be his last session with her, he couldn't help but feel elated, sad and scared all at the same time. Tomorrow, he would walk out again into the real world and away from what he actually considered a safe haven from his troubles. Taking his usual seat in the brown leather chair, House sat down and looked out the window as he usually did. Only this time, there were no flowers of varying colors. There was only dirt, as the garden was being replanted with fall flowers. Silently he wondered if this was a sign of desolate things to come or a sign to indicate a fresh new journey in his life. He continued to sit there silently until his meditative state was broken by Dr. Scott.

"How are you feeling, Greg?"

Looking at her now he says, "Like I need a good lay. You game?"

She smiles and responds, "Ah, how I'll miss these moments of deflection. I thought by now you and I had gotten past that stage."

In the many months that House had been at Mayfield, Dr. Scott did manage to break him a few times. It was a tough battle of back and forth, but things changed when Cuddy came to visit that one day months ago. In his way, House compromised. He shared some things with Dr. Scott but there were still a lot of things he just couldn't. Whether a bit out of shame or embarrassment, he couldn't figure out the reason for his unwillingness to be completely open. Part of the truth seemed to lie in the fact that baring his soul to this stranger was not a venture on which he wished to embark. If he did share his secrets, it would be to someone he actually trusted. Someone who truly "knew" him and someone who would understand and not judge or "diagnose" him.

Continuing with his usual candor he counters her thought, "Never….I wouldn't want to give away too many of my magic tricks. Ruins the illusion that I actually care…which by the way…I don't."

"Oh really. Well, I don't want to give away my secret that every time you deflect, you are actually avoiding talking about your feelings and emotional state of mind. Oops…I guess I just did. So, cut the crap." She says teasingly.

Smiling he says to her, "Damn I'm going to miss you."

"So tell me. How do you feel about leaving here tomorrow and getting back to your life on the outside?"

"Like someone kicked me in the nads."

She chuckles a bit, "Well that's a colorful way of putting it." She pauses for a minute and asks, "Why do feel that way? Are you scared?"

"I don't think I'm scared. Just...I don't know." He says unable to find the right words to express his feelings.

"Want to talk to me about it?" She asks him.

"No, not particularly." He says drily. Then, he silently takes a deep breath for a minute and says, "I'm curious to know if I've lost a step or two diagnostically. I don't want to go back and have people tip toe around me, because I couldn't handle things emotionally. I'm afraid of what could happen if I relapse."

"What you're feeling is normal." She says trying to ease his troubles. "It's going to take some time, but you've made some great progress, Greg. And if at any time you feel like you're going to crash again, talk to someone you trust or pick up the phone because I'm just a phone call away."

Lost in thought he says, "I just don't want to be miserable anymore."

"One thing you have to remember is that things aren't going to magically be wonderful for you right away. After all, this isn't Disney World. You're going to have to be patient. You will get frustrated. You will fail at times. But I think you now have the right tools and mindset to deal with that." She pauses for a minute than asks, "Now, tell me. Do you have the list I wanted you to make for when you leave here?"

House digs in to the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a folded, crumpled piece of paper.

"Sorry for the way it looks. Neatness isn't my thing." He opens the paper and reads. "When I feel like crap, instead of holding it all in, I'm going to talk to Wilson or listen to Cameron whine about her problems. Then, I'll know mine aren't so bad and that someone else is more psychologically unhinged then I am. If I feel pain, I'm going to turn on some Ramsey Lewis and imagine Cuddy in a leather outfit whipping my leg….at least then the pain will be more pleasurable."

Dr. Scott can't help but smile at his wit in trying to make his problems more tolerable. House continues.

"I will try to be a better mentor to my fellows and more conscious of their feelings…..even if at times they really are acting like idiots and are getting overly emotional over stupid things. I will try to love myself more….which I imagine won't be too hard…and consider myself worthy of love and respect….even if I have to pay someone a hundred bucks an hour to tell me that."

Dr. Scott rolls her eyes and gives him a look. House then gets a bit more serious.

"I'm going to make time for myself and get out more. I will not consider lying on my couch with the phone off the hook, drunk and high a vacation. I will try and actually do something or go somewhere. I will try not to let the obsession of my job get the better of me, because sometimes it just doesn't make me a good doctor. It just makes me an obsessive ass. I'm going to be a better friend to the people who care about me, because without them….I've got no one. I will not be afraid to take more steps towards my personal happiness, because I deserve to be happy" He looks at Dr. Scott and says, "Though that is still debatable at the moment." He goes back to look at his paper again. "I will use words…not games…to get my point across. And I will try to be more sensitive to the feelings of the people who matter to me. Because if I don't, then I will lose what holds me together on a daily basis. I will think of my actions and how they will have an impact on others before I do or say anything stupid. I will keep trying to tell myself that I don't need Vicodin to function. Because all it ever did was numb the physical and emotional pain. It never took it away. Finally, I will always remember that you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you get what you need." He folds the paper slowly back up and gently places it in his pocket.

She smiles at his Rolling Stones reference.

Touched by House's seriousness and his honesty, she says to him, "I am so proud of you Greg. I want you to keep that paper and whenever you're feeling lost. I want you to look at it and remember the promises you made to yourself and to those who love you. You hold the keys to the motorcycle House. Only you can take it where you want it to go."

"So…if my motorcycle happens to end up at your house…." He says trying to lighten the mood again.

"I'll come out wearing a thong and a smile on my face." She jokes.

"Well, I may need more therapy to wipe that image from my mind now." He quips.

Looking at her watch she says, "Well, Dr, House, it looks as if our time here is up."

"That's not the only thing up right now." He quips.

"You'd never be able to handle me." She drily remarks with a sly smile on her face.

"Oh, snap. Damn…you know me a little too well now. I have to keep you away from Wilson. He's such a gossip." He says.

She laughs at him.

They both get up. Dr. Scott extends her hand to him and says, "Take care of yourself, Dr. House."

He shakes her hand.

As he opens the door to leave, he turns around and says softly, "Thank you….for everything."

"You're welcome. Good luck, Greg." She responds.

He exits.

That night, as House fell asleep, he had the most amazing dream. In that dream, Cuddy came to him dressed in white, as she had that first night, and without saying a word pulled him out of bed. He found himself wearing black dress pants and shoes and a white button down oxford. She brought him out to the garden that he spied on a weekly basis from the chair of Dr. Scott's office. Only now, instead of it being barren, it was filled with flowers bursting with color. As the two stood facing each other in the garden, House asked her, "What are you doing here?"

"You want me here. You always want me here." She answered him.

She then takes his hand and leads him to a paved driveway next to the garden. There his eyes fall upon his precious motorcycle.

Cuddy stands in front of it and dangles the keys to it awaiting his hand to take them. House takes the keys from her, mounts the bike, and turns the key to start the engine. He looks at her and asks, "You coming?"

"Of course." She answers with a smile. She lifts her flowing white dress up just a bit to mount the bike, wraps her arms around his waist and lays her chin on his left shoulder. With a smile, he drives off.

After a bit, he reaches his destination which is a beach. He dismounts the bike and then helps her off. In his dream, he still limps, but feels no pain and Cuddy guides him. When House and Cuddy reach the edge of the beach, arm in arm they stare out into the vast, pulsating ocean with a sunset of pinks, oranges and purples illuminating the sky and a soft beautiful breeze touching their faces. In that moment, House turns to Cuddy and wraps his arms around her. As they stand there for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes, House is filled with the sensation that there is no other place he'd rather be right now. He then leans down and, with her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, he kisses her passionately. Like a perfect picture captured in one breathtaking moment, the breeze blows her hair back and ripples House's white oxford as they are lost in a moment together. When they break from their kiss, House looks into her eyes and says, "I love you." But before she can answer, House's dream is interrupted by the cries of his psychotic roommate and a bevy of orderlies running into the room.

He puts his arm to his head and utters under his breath, "Damn!"