In the Hues of a Life
By Jules
(9/10)
M
Synopsis: An exploration of Cuddy's side of House's recovery and hallucinations.
A/N: ENJOY! And thank you for reading. One more chapter to go!
Chapter 9
6:45 A.M. "Mama?" Rachel worried her lip as she stared at the large, strange machines around her. The little girl shrunk back against her mother as a nurse she didn't know began to tap a giant needle.
Cuddy caressed her dark hair and held her close. "Shh, baby. I need you to be a big girl for mama."
Rachel shook her head and closed her eyes. "No. I don't wanna."
"It's just gonna be a little prick, Miss Rachel," the older nurse said gently as she took her arm.
"No!" Rachel screamed in pure terror.
"Here ya go, kid." House stepped in front of the failing nurse and handed Rachel a red lollipop.
The little girl grinned and put it in her mouth. "Tank you, House."
House took her hand quickly and inserted the needle into her wrist.
Rachel's eyes widened when she realized what had happened. She looked at House accusingly and pouted. "Ow!"
"I know, I know. " Cuddy kissed her forehead and pointed to the saline bag. "But look. All of the good medicines can get into your body now and make you feel better."
House frowned as he taped the needle to her skin. He turned her little hand over slowly. "Her knuckles are white. I want to run some Lupus tests."
7:20 A.M. "It's not Lupus," Cuddy said, following him down the hallway.
House swung through his side office doors. "We have to check."
Thirteen handed her the consent form wordlessly.
"I won't sign that." Cuddy pushed the clipboard against House's chest. He turned away from her and went into his office. She followed House through the glass doors. "It's not. You said it never is. Find out what it really is like you always do."
House looked down at his desk, shuffling through meaningless papers. "Cuddy, you're not thinking clearly. Go be with your daughter."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Her volume rose, her voice catching.
House slammed down on his desk and finally looked at her. "I will. You are acting like an irrational, upset mother and have lost all objectivity."
"You can't make decisions for her. You are not her father," Cuddy spat, her words harsher and full of more meaning than she intended.
House met her eyes. "No."
"No." Cuddy swallowed painfully.
"What is going on here?" Elliot Minors pushed through the door.
"We have a new case, Minors," House exclaimed boisterously, cutting the tension. "Take a load off."
Minors pointed behind him. "That's Cuddy's girl. Let me see her chart."
House forced a fake smile and passed Rachel Cuddy's chart to him. "I was just getting permission from Dr. Cuddy to run some blood tests for—"
"Waste of money. It's a common cold, Dr. House." He pushed the file back in his hands.
House scoffed, "A butterfly rash is not a symptom of the sniffles, Minors."
"She can easily be treated in the clinic. You have more important cases to handle."
"Are you kidding me—" Cuddy pushed into Minor's space.
House grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "I disagree. We're possibly looking at autoimmune or ortho—"
"I still want her moved. Mother Cuddy can check her in through the ER."
House tightened his grip on her hand almost painfully. "Whatever you say, boss."
Cuddy dug her nails into his skin. She had no idea what he was doing. "House—"
"Excellent. Since you're here, I'll have my assistant bring up a new case for you to get cracking on." Minors exited the room smugly.
"What the hell did you just do?" Cuddy jerked away from him.
House shrugged and picked up the consent form. "Told him what he wanted to hear. Rachel's not going anywhere. Now sign this."
1:15 P.M. "What if she has something you can't fix?" Cuddy asked quietly from the edge of Rachel's bed.
House stood quietly in the doorway. "Then we'll treat her as best we can. You know this."
Cuddy nodded. "What if it's not treatable?"
House took a step into the room. "We'll take her home. We'll deal."
"You didn't want this." Cuddy turned around and smiled sadly.
"No. But it's mine. You're mine. We'll deal." And he reached for her.
3:00 P.M. "It's not cancer," Wilson announced, and Cuddy proceeded to fling her arms around him.
"Whoa." Wilson nearly fell over.
"Keep your hands where I can see them, Wilson." House scowled at him from the other side of the room. Wilson awkwardly let go of Cuddy.
He cleared his throat, "The quick onset seems viral."
"Taub and Thirteen are checking the playground and the house as we speak." House said as he paced.
Wilson stepped closer to him and whispered, "You should know that Minors is looking for you."
Cuddy looked up from Rachel's bed and stared at them.
"That's not my concern right now." House gritted his teeth.
"I get why you're doing this, House." He looked back at Rachel and Cuddy. "Hey, I applaud it. But the two of you are lucky to still be employed here."
"I'm not going to let Cuddy's kid receive sub-par treatment simply because of petty bureaucratic bullshit. None of this was her fault. Least of all Rachel's."
Wilson held his hands up. "Like I said, I applaud it. But you need to be prepared for the consequences. Minors has been looking for a reason since day one of his reign to get rid of the two of you. Don't give him one."
"So much for the support of the altruistic board. A child is sick and all you and Minors can think about is getting rid of the doctors who are trying to make her better," House accused.
"I'm on your side, House."
"Then open your mouth in those damn meetings. Prove it."
Wilson nodded quietly. Before he left, he called out to both of them, "I hope you figure out what's wrong with your little girl."
Cuddy looked at House, waiting for his reaction.
There was none. He was watching Rachel.
5:15 P.M. "I thought I told you to move her."
"And I thought you had a medical degree from an accredited university. My mistake," House spat at Minors. Rachel's fever had spiked an hour ago and she was having difficulty breathing.
Minors face turned bright red. "Move her now, or you're out of here. I will see to it personally that your license is revoked permanently."
"House! She's seizing," Cuddy cried from the doorway as she slammed down on the call button.
"Don't you dare—" Minors sputtered as a team of nurses rushed past him.
"Get out of my way, Minors." House shoved Minors out of the way and moved to the side of the bed.
Minors stewed in the doorway, ignored, and finally spun around. "It's your funeral."
"I need 8 milligrams of Lorazepam stat…" House ordered in a haze of white and gray.
* * *
6:05 P.M. "We have the blood work back." Taub stepped into House's office.
"And?" House took his reading glasses off.
Taub took a deep breath and said, "You were right."
6:30 P.M. House pushed open the door to Rachel's room. It was dark and the room was colorless. Cuddy sat in the corner in shadows, tired, her hair up in a mess of curls, and her make-up gone. "She's sleeping."
House smiled softly at her as he limped across the room. "Good."
Cuddy leaned up. "She looks better. Don't you think she looks better?"
House touched the back of her hair gently. "Yeah."
She looked at him and frowned, his tenderness startling her. "House? What is it?"
He began quickly, "We caught it early. We need to put her on a NSAID, probably Ibuprofen to start and if that doesn't take—"
Cuddy shook her head, not comprehending his words, "Wait. What are you telling me?"
House looked down but kept his hand on her hair. "Her blood work came back positive for SLE."
She stared at him, shock hitting every pour of her being. He was the most brilliant person she knew, and yet, all he could do was sit there and tell her her daughter had Lupus.
"I don't believe you."
"Cuddy. It's treatable. We can—"
"But not curable. She'll have to live with this for the rest of her life. I don't believe you!" Cuddy stood up, her face wet, her eyes blinded by outraged tears.
House, the man with all the answers, sat there dumbly, not having a clue what to say.
"House, Cuddy. The board is meeting. They want to see you both," Wilson said at the most inopportune moment.
"Screw the board!" Cuddy screamed and hit the wall. House finally stood.
"It's a bad time, Wilson," he said, his eyes on Cuddy.
Wilson stood there awkwardly, looking down. "It's in your best interest."
"Wilson, get out of here," House said, frustrated and crippled.
Cuddy finally pushed back from the wall. "No. Let's go. Start her on the Ibuprofen."
House took her hand. "You're making the right decision."
Cuddy nodded and gripped his hand. "I know. But you're still wrong."