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Cuddy was on her fourth club soda with lime when the plane hit another round of turbulence. Every time the plane shook, Cuddy tensed. Normally, a flight with this altitude wouldn't experience this much turbulence. They were only five hours into the flight to boot. There was still nine more to go.

House had fallen asleep listening to his shuffle, leaving Cuddy to read old, beat up and torn magazines. She grew bored of the book she was reading and since she didn't have her iPod with her, she was stuck staring out the window in thought. The further west they went, the more beautiful the day was. The voice on the loudspeaker told them they were about to head over Hawaii, after apologizing, yet again, for the instability. The excuse was the same as last time—the winds were strong. Evidently, they were so strong that their flight would be delayed arriving in Tokyo.

"Great…" Cuddy murmured. Good thing the speech wasn't until tomorrow.

Cuddy went back to reading a catalog to some store she's never heard of that sold mineral items of some kind. Halfway down the page, she was bored again and put it back into the pouch. Who buys granite silverware? Especially with the concern these days about things containing lead in them and granite is definitely a carrier. 'Wow…I must be bored if I'm thinking about things that contain lead,' Cuddy said to herself and then glanced over to House.

Damn him…why was he the one to fall asleep so easily? Cuddy reached over to him and carefully pulled the earbuds from his ears and took his shuffle from his lap. He wasn't listening to it, so she wanted to.

She had a feeling she wouldn't agree with his songs, but something was better than nothing. She slipped the earbuds into her ears to listen to what was currently playing. She had no idea who this band was and because there was no screen to display the info, she couldn't find out.

Music helped Cuddy think, even if it was a rock band that was blasting in her ears. But sometimes she shouldn't think. Thinking usually came with the good and the bad. Mostly the bad. Not that Cuddy has anything to be regretful for. She made some pretty good choices in life.

Cuddy leaned her head up against the wall of the plane and closed her eyes. She can sleep through anything, so the music wasn't a problem. Her mind was somewhere else anyway. Her current thought of choice was how she still wanted a baby, even after the heartbreak she felt losing the three in-vitro babies. She'll never forget the time she woke up one morning before work and miscarried the third one in the bathroom. Being a doctor, she knew what a miscarriage was like. There was not a moment in her life previous to that where she felt as hurt and empty as she did. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't decide to get angry or start bawling.

'Come on, Lisa, there has to be something else to think about,' she said to herself, getting herself away from the horrible memory.

There was plenty to think about. This time, she did it with her eyes open, staring at the crystal clear blue water eight miles beneath her. It's all that could be seen the majority of the time, although from time to time a small body of land would come into view. She was missing Hawaii completely because she was on the wrong side of the plane. The other side got the view while she stared at the mass of water as far as the eye could see. Rarely she would see boats that were as small as ants and the occasional cloud that the plane would pass through, but other than that, she was hugely deprived with the scenery.

Sleep was impossible. She ruled that out when her mind was so full and wouldn't stop talking. The flight was only nine more hours and with the difference in time, she could make up the hours of sleep she missed when they got to Japan.

Cuddy skipped to the next song, which she recognized, but couldn't remember the title. It's possible she heard it in House's office one time when he was blaring his Nano for the entire floor to hear. She's heard many of his songs that way. He had mostly oldies and classics. Cuddy was an eighties listener and that didn't include hard rock bands. She usually shied away from them, but for some reason, House's music felt right.

Felt right? Okay…that's scary. Cuddy didn't want to find herself getting any closer to House and by saying she likes the music he listens to had made it so.

It didn't last much longer because she felt a poke at the side of her arm and saw House's hand reach out. She glanced over at him, suddenly feeling a twinge of awkwardness that she actually took the device from him in the first place. Who does that anyway?

"Cough it up," he said somewhat groggily, wiping the tiredness away from his face with his free hand.

"No, you were asleep," Cuddy said, pausing the shuffle but not removing the earbuds. "I was bored."

House woke up amazingly fast after that. His blue eyes went wide in surprise, as if he never heard her say she was bored before.

"Well, Cuddy, if you're bored, I can think of ways to entertain you. Is the bathroom free?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes and gave him back his shuffle. "Everything is a sexual implication with you."

"Is not," he said, donning the earbuds.

"Is too," she argued back, taking her book and having no choice but to read it with the lack of nothing better to do. "You couldn't last one week without either your Vicodin or sex." Cuddy stuck her nose in the book after that to look as if she was reading and wanted no interruptions.

"Well, excuse me, Miss Celibate, but just because you're not getting any, or have gotten any in the past year and some odd eleven whatever months, don't take your frustrations out on me. Your sexual frustrations, however, is a different story." He looked up at the instrument panel above the seat and saw that the bathroom sign wasn't illuminated. He gestured towards the sign with a raised thumb. "What do you say? Oh wait, never mind, someone just went in there. You'll have to wait."

"House, will you shut up?" she whined. "I'm trying to read."

"No, what you're trying to do is change the subject. When was the last time you had sex?"

Cuddy's eyes widened to the extent that they just might pop out of her head. House is House, but she still didn't expect him to ask her that!

"That is none of your business!" she exclaimed. "I still want to keep some personal things undisclosed from you."

House chuckled. "Right. You're just humiliated that I asked you. Your cheeks are red."

That they were. In fact, Cuddy could feel them burning.

"That's what happens to normal people when you invade their private life!"

"You're not normal."

"Oh, I'm not?" She was surprised that statement came up. "And you are?"

"Never said I was. That's why we make the perfect couple."

Cuddy laughed quietly at that. "I don't think so. I'd rather remain single the rest of my life than have even the thought of you with me."

House's mouth dropped. "Well that's just mean! I'm heartbroken," he said, but didn't sound serious. He was being cynical and that only infuriated Cuddy further. Why can't he ever be serious for a change, especially about something like this? Actually, the more serious a conversation was, the more sardonic he became. Perhaps it was his coping mechanism for the inability to be serious. Or maybe he was just a huge jerk, like what was running through Cuddy's mind about him right now.

"I bet you are," she muttered, realizing she wasn't actually reading, but scanning the words on the page as if she were reading, but her mind was distracted. She had to reread the page again.

"Oh, look, the bathroom is vacant. Let's go before someone else gets it."

Getting away from House was a very good idea. However, if he followed her in there, she vowed mentally to kill him.

His eyes went wide when she stood.

"Don't get too excited," she said, dropping her open book on the now empty seat. "You're not following me."

She swung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and went to get out, but House didn't move his legs. In fact, he shifted further down so she would have to step over him if she wanted to get out. His tray being down didn't help the situation.

"House, move," she said, waving her hand towards his legs that blocked her path.

"Crawl over me," he said, wearing a sickening smirk, holding his arms out briefly, as if to embrace her.

Cuddy felt like the center of attention with everyone looking up at her, wondering why she was out of her seat and standing there. They probably didn't think that there was an insolent jerk that refused to let her go to the bathroom.

"I'm not crawling over you," she hissed, keeping her voice down and speaking with barely moving her mouth. "You will never get that satisfaction."

"Well then I guess you're not going to the bathroom. For god sakes woman, stop hounding me!" he yelled out, reaching the ears of everyone in the cabin. "Help! She's abusing me!" He looked around in shock.

Cuddy threw her hand over her face. Why was he her first choice to bring along on this trip? He was going to make her insane, like always. She was already there.

Before the stewardess came back over to see what the problem was, Cuddy took charge. Seeing frowns and hearing whispers from the other passengers was getting to her. She locked his tray in the upright position and stepped over his legs, which required a long stride. However, as if it were planned that way, the plane hit another round of turbulence, making Cuddy lose her balance. She fell forward unexpectedly with a small yelp, reaching out both hands to steady herself. Each one of her hands were on House's armrests and their faces were mere inches apart. The breath was caught in her throat again as she straddled over him. This time, her limbs felt a little weak. However, House wasn't focused on what she was. He set his sights lower.

"Your girls are enjoying this arrangement," he said, speaking of her breasts and felt the urge to jab them now that they were practically up against his face. He got his hands ready. "Come to uncle Greg…"

"Jerk," Cuddy mumbled, getting the proper balance and got off him to head to the bathroom. She didn't even take notice at the fact that she was being stared at by every passenger she passed. House infuriated her. There was no question about it.

When she got to the bathroom and locked the door behind her, Cuddy realized she was angry because he didn't take the action seriously. She anticipated that when she slipped, he would do something about it other than be an ass.

"Did you expect him to feel you up?" Cuddy asked herself aloud in the mirror. "Did you think he was going to lean in and kiss you?"

Cuddy paced lightly, treading the two feet of space she had between each wall with her hand over her forehead. Eventually, she stopped and leaned on the sink with a deep sigh. Okay, so she admits it, House drives her up the wall on an everyday basis, but that doesn't necessarily disqualify him from catching her eye. She puts so much effort into making sure he doesn't screw up, but lets him get his way in the end anyhow. There's a reason for that. It's not because she's weak and powerless under his control and it's not because he's an overly amazing doctor and diagnostician who's usually right with every wild idea and idiotic theory. She lets him get away with everything under the sun because she likes him. Twice she let herself grow numb in his view. She promised herself she wouldn't let it get that far. Then again, she didn't think that she would have to buckle him up or step over him to get to the bathroom either.

Another round of turbulence disrupted her thought process. House was gone from her mind and the worry of too much turbulence took over. She had been on flights before, many times, and never had a case of turbulence. There was the one time flying back from Singapore, but that was it. And the shaking of that plane was nothing like this one. These tremors nearly knocked her off her feet when she stood.

She heard the captain's voice come over the loudspeaker, telling everyone to get into their seats and buckle up. Once again, he apologized for the shaking and that was it. He sounded calm, so there was no reason to panic, right?

Cuddy stepped out of the bathroom and flagged the nearest stewardess down to express her worries about the abnormal quaking of the plane. As expected, she said there was nothing to worry about and that everything was under control.

Under control? So there was a problem…

Cuddy could also read faces. This woman tried to look calm and collective, but her eyes were the eyes of a frightened child. Although she should've pressed harder, she didn't. Cuddy returned to her seat, easily sliding by House this time, who was in the middle of popping Vicodin into his mouth.

"Stole the rest of your club soda," he said, watching her ass as she shifted by him. "I was thirsty."

A frown took over his face when she didn't answer him back, or look like she cared. She buckled up and stayed quiet.

"What's the matter with you? The reflection in the mirror leave you speechless in fear again?"

"There's something not right on this flight," she said, glancing out the window at all the water, only instead of thinking of it as something peaceful, which is what she's been doing for the past five hours, she now saw it as something to fear. The plane would be no match for something as powerful as the ocean.

"Hey, you rhymed!" he pointed out childishly. The smirk on his face was wiped off when she didn't respond. She stared out the window, as if she just lost her best friend. He stepped down from his usual antics for the time being and expressed concern by placing a hand over her shoulder. She didn't flinch under his touch, which was a good thing. "What's wrong?" he asked in a low tone.

Cuddy shook her head. "Nothing. I'm overreacting."

"Is it because of the turbulence?" he asked. "It happens."

"Not that frequently."

"Cuddy, the chances of a plane going down because of turbulence is…one in a billion."

"Maybe it's not just turbulence. Maybe there's a problem."

"Wouldn't they tell us if there's a problem?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not. They wouldn't want us to panic."

"But you're panicking anyway."

"I'm not panicking!" she said loudly, causing the people in the seat in front of her to turn their heads in question. So far, there's been a lot of vocal action in that particular row, so no one paid much attention to House and Cuddy anymore. Any outbursts were becoming normal. If they remained quiet without a yelling of some kind, the passengers would start to worry.

"Right…so I guess it's normal for your face to deadpan while your fists ball up on your lap."

Cuddy didn't realize her fists were clenched and she released them. "I'm just nervous," she said in a low voice. "We're surrounded by water."

House shrugged. "So we'll have something to break our fall if we crash."

She shot him a look.

"I said IF," he said, shifting in the seat again to make his leg comfortable. "You make dying with me seem like we're automatically going to Hell."

Before Cuddy could respond, another wave of shuddering took over the plane and the captain's voice came back over the PA. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the cause of the turbulence is because of the unusual winds out today. Stay calm. We should be through it soon."

The passengers didn't look worried. In fact, the only ones who did look worried were Cuddy and the young stewardess. Drinks and meals were being served up until the seatbelt sign came on, so unless the crew was in huge denial, or there really wasn't anything to worry about and Cuddy needed to unwind. Since when did she become so high strung anyway? No more caffeinated coffee for her before flights again!

"See…it's just the wind outside," House said, snatching the small plastic cup her drink was in off her tray and ate a couple of ice chips that still remained inside. He ate them and sighed when he saw Cuddy was still staring out the window. "Relax, Cuddy, you're going to make yourself sick. Eat your ice chips." He set the cup back onto her tray.

There hasn't been turbulence for several minutes now and the seatbelt sign was turned off. All activity resumed and the flight attendants continued to serve food and drinks while keeping a happy appearance. Even the girl that Cuddy talked to looked pleasant. Maybe there really wasn't anything to worry about.

Cuddy felt a little better and the pain in her stomach from being stressed was fading. About an hour ago when the attendants were coming around with lists on what people wanted for lunch, she ordered a chicken salad sandwich with tomato and a pickle and just received it now. House got the same, minus the pickle, of course.

"Are you feeling up to eating?" he asked, followed by taking an immense bite of his sandwich.

Cuddy nodded and opened the plastic container.

"I mean, who knows…it might be your last meal," he said, mouth full.

"Shut up," she said in a defeated tone.

"I'm sorry…You're just such an easy target right now."

"Yeah, it's just so hilarious that I'm scared of the frequent jolts of the plane." Cuddy picked up a half of her sandwich and bit violently into it. "Don't talk to me. For the next eight and a half hours, I don't want to hear your voice."

"Why? Because I don't share your sympathy about being scared over nothing?"

"Because you're an ass, simple as that," she shot at him.

"You knew I was an ass before you took me on this trip and that didn't stop you. I don't get you, Cuddy. You get mad when I say there's a problem with the plane, and then when I say there's nothing wrong, you still get mad."

"House, stop. Just leave me alone."

House grunted, frowning at her sudden mood swing. "Fine. The next time you need my help for something, remember you said that."

Cuddy didn't say anything in return. She continued to nibble on her sandwich, but couldn't stomach anymore after the first half. She ended up giving it to House, or rather, he took it upon himself to steal it when she said she couldn't eat anymore. He scarfed his own lunch down in less than a minute and was still hungry after Cuddy's half.

Cuddy nibbled on her pickle, still in silent mode. House couldn't leave her alone. He kept watching her out of the corner of his eye. She hadn't said anything in well over ten minutes. She barely so much as turned her head in his direction. She was focused on what was going on outside, probably lost in thought to the point where if he touched her, she would flinch.

Something had Cuddy freaked. There was no question there. House being House really wanted to know what it was that had the great Dean speechless.

After the flight attendants came over with trash bags and the containers from lunch were thrown away, House made his move. He lightly placed his hand over her knee and squeezed gently. "Hey…feel like talking?"

Before she could answer, the plane suddenly made a sharp tilt to the right and started to shake so severely, it was like all the previous turbulence episodes mixed in as one. Cries erupted from the passengers. House had trouble balancing himself in his seat and pushed into Cuddy and his own armrest. No one sitting in the isle seats could hold the upright position. House wasn't the only one. Carryon bags fell out of the compartments on the right side of the plane, slamming into whoever was on the left. One of the bags hit House in the leg, but thankfully it wasn't his bad leg. That was only a mere foreshadowing of what was to come.

Cuddy knew they were in trouble when the oxygen masks came down from above their heads. Her gut feeling was right. The turbulence wasn't just turbulence. All the other passengers must've felt the same way, for there were cries of all volumes, tones, and urgencies all around her, fitting the moment. She and House were the only ones not appearing to panic. She did more panicking when she wasn't sure the status of the plane. There wasn't even any time for tears. All she could do was helplessly stare at the endless ocean miles beneath her.

When the plane straightened out enough for House to find his footing, he stood up and reached into their overhead compartment, ignoring the tremors beneath his feet that struggled to bring him down. With his leg, it was difficult to maintain balance. Without his cane, it didn't make the attempt any easier. He only had one thing in mind—he wanted to protect Cuddy. Judging by how the plane was tilting to the right, the right side was going to be the side hitting the water first if it came to that. He didn't know what else to do. Cuddy watched him, complete fear in her eyes, wondering what he was doing. While all the other passengers had their oxygen masks on, House and Cuddy knew they were useless. There was no need for them. Instead, House pulled out all the blankets and pillows he could in their section, as well as neighboring compartments.

"What are you doing?" Cuddy asked, face completely blanched as she gripped the ends of her armrests and hung on for dear life.

"I'm not taking any chances. Move up your armrest next to the wall."

Cuddy did so.

"I forgot my How To Survive A Plane Crash manual back at home, so this will have to do." He covered the wall of the plane beside Cuddy with blankets and pillows as if it would lessen the impact should the plane hit the water on the side.

"Nowhere in any manual does it say to do this."

"In mine it does. Shut up and go with it."

Cuddy swallowed hard and nodded. House took her hand in his once he was through prepping her with so many blankets and pillows that if she threw herself against them, no way would she feel the wall of the plane. Her hand trembled and was so warm, despite the events. Neither of them could sit still in their seat. The shaking didn't allow it. Cuddy felt the tears come to her eyes after the intensity of the situation finally became real. You never really know when something will happen to you. Even in moments like this, you have regrets. You wish you were a better person to others, you wish you worked less, and most of all, you wish you could've said goodbye to those you love. It's not fair to them any more than it is to you. Did House feel that way, too? What was going through his mind? His face remained emotionless.

This can't be it. Despite the screams, the cries, the shaking, the opening of compartments and luggage flying everywhere, and the oxygen masks, all of the above giving it a clear blatancy that this was in fact a doomed airliner, House knew it couldn't be over. It only ended this suddenly and abruptly in TV shows. This didn't happen in real life!

The loud whizzing of the engine echoed through the walls as the plane started plummeting. The scene before them was, in fact, authentic. House felt helpless. He wanted to do more for Cuddy. Their eyes met, as if meeting for the last time. He hated himself for not being able to do more. He's a brilliant man in so many ways and forms. Too bad nothing helped here. The only thing he was focused on was the hurt and fear in Cuddy's eyes. There was also some hope. Like House, she didn't want to believe that this was happening. If they survive the crash, how would they get out of the plane before the pressure builds up around the doors? By the time the pressure outside becomes neutral with the inside of the plane, the cabin will be completely filled up and the passengers would drown. And who knows how deep the ocean floor is. It could be miles!

Cuddy's stomach tightened once more and her throat went dry. The captain came onto the loudspeaker and told them they were experiencing malfunctions and they needed to land. He reminded them that the seat they were sitting on could be used as a flotation device until help arrived. He was making light of the situation. They weren't landing; they were crashing. The rumbling of the engine beneath them and the groaning, grinding sounds the plane was making had confirmed that theory.

It wasn't long before they were plunging so fast that House and Cuddy were being lifted out of their seats. As House expected, the plane veered off to the right.

The lights flickered.

Cuddy grasped onto House's hand so hard that it would most certainly be broken after this. She sat so still in her seat. Her body was tense and her head leaned back onto the chair, eyes screwed shut, wishing and praying this would stop and somehow reverse itself.

House, on the other hand, knew what kind of trouble they were in now that he had time to think about it. He was aware of the cabin pressure once the plane started to sink and knew of the danger the passengers would be in if the plane hit the water. It would be such a force that it would be like the plane landing into cement at that stage. Breaking the surface of water at this speed, you might as well be crashing into the ground. The passengers would either be ejected from their seatbelts and flung so violently that they would hit something and die instantly, or they would remain in their seats and jolt forward at such a velocity, their backs would snap. It wasn't a winning situation either way, teetering off to the right or not. It would still be on an angle. In fact, crashing on Cuddy's side would only kill her faster. He didn't know what he was thinking with the pillows and blankets. Not enough cushioning in the world would save her.

Cuddy wasn't thinking of a way to escape right now; she was thinking of a way to escape once the plane hit the water, assuming she was still alive to think of it.

House racked his brain trying to think of a way he could save themselves. He popped two Vicodin and then secured it tightly in the zip up pocket of his shorts, making sure that wherever he went, his precious pills went with him. After this, he had a feeling he would need them.

"We're going to die," Cuddy whispered, giving up altogether.

"No we're not, we're going to jump."

Cuddy's eyes shot open. "What?"

"If we stay here, we'll die for sure." House was determined. His eyes were wide and his willpower was great. "The emergency exit is right behind us."

Cuddy's face dropped in horror. "If we jump, we'll die for sure!" she exclaimed. "We're still miles up!"

"If we keep going, we'll be miles up in Heaven."

"Have you gone insane?!" she cried, feeling fear for a different reason now. She watched in horror as House come to a stand. "House!"

"If we stay on this plane, we're dead either way!" he yelled in anger. "The pillow idea was stupid. I wasn't thinking. Once this plane hits the water, the force will be so great that it will probably split in two."

"Then we have a chance!" Cuddy yelled back.

"Too bad you'll be dead before you get to make that choice! We're going at a speed of about five hundred miles an hour right now. Take that and add a brick wall at the end. Not only will the plane split, the impact will kill everyone on contact. If it doesn't, the water coming into contact with the empty cabin will put pressure around it and either explode, or rip the plane into shreds in the blink of an eye." He grasped her upper arm as he told her all this. "You're jumping, Cuddy, even if I have to push you out myself."

Cuddy shook her head and continued to cry. They were coming very fast to the ocean and had about less than thirty seconds to go. The cabin filled up with loud prayers and pleas for survival.

"You can't swim with your leg," was all she could say. "I'll lose you anyway."

Their time was running short. House took her by the arm and pulled her into him. "You're not going to be able to make a normal jump from the door. Because of the speed, you will be sucked out. When you regain your momentum, hold your arms tightly to your body and pencil-drop into the water. When you're under water, spread your arms and legs out as far as you can to slow you from going down deeper."

House didn't wait for a response this time. It was awkward, but he managed to find his footing with the unusual angle of the plane as the grinding and cracking sounds continued to fill the cabin. He didn't care what happened to him, just as long as Cuddy lived to tell the tale.

They had about fifteen seconds now. The water was coming dangerously closer.

The emergency door was right behind them. Cuddy did her part by grabbing the two seats they were sitting on to throw out the door so they would have something to hold onto, assuming they could be found after this. House got to the door, but didn't open it. He knew that once he did, he and the door would be thrust out of there like weightless paper.

He didn't say anything as he looked to Cuddy. There was still a chance they wouldn't make it. She would, but not him. His leg coming in contact with the water would be enough to kill him. The pain would kill him before anything else did. What forced him to hold on was he not wanting Cuddy to go through this alone. He talked her into this, he planned to stick this through like a man.

"Do it," Cuddy said, barely moving her mouth.

House tightened up the muscles in his body and neck and unlatched the door. What happened to them is exactly what he said would happen. House and the door were immediately sucked from the plane, but he became neutral once he was in the air. He didn't have much time to recover from the dizziness being pulled from the plane had caused, for he was falling for the water much too quickly. They were still a mile or so away from the water, so it still looked very far away. He sealed his arms to his body and mimicked the position he told Cuddy to perform.

Cuddy? Where was she? House looked around. He never saw her leave the plane. Off in the distance, the plane had crashed into the water, creating an overly humungous tidal wave, resembling a bit of a tsunami. Cracking also filled the air. He was right. The plane hit the surface with so much force that it couldn't compensate for the weight. The water in this case weighted a billion times more than the plane, exploding it from the inside once it broke the surface.

He was mere feet from hitting the water now and he still couldn't spot Cuddy. He looked in every direction. She did jump, right? Oh god please say she didn't hold back out of fear and remained on the plane! He thought about her up until he hit the water. To a normal person, it's not so bad striking the surface. Bare skin, however, you're going to feel the sharp pain. It feels like you're being whipped with a belt all over the exposed area. Take a belt, turn up the intensity, and hit his bad leg. He found it hard to do anything other than think about the pain his leg felt once he hit the water. He couldn't even spread his legs out to stop him from going deeper into the water. He tried, but his bum leg didn't allow him to. His arms and good leg helped, but brought him deeper under the water, further than it would take him to be able to swim to the surface for air. If he didn't start swimming up now, he would drown.

House wasn't one to panic, but when you're underwater with a bum leg and the surface so far out of your reach and worried about your traveling companion, even the toughest jerk in the world would be scared at this point.

He had to help Cuddy. Seeing her face in his mind gave him use of his bad leg. It hurt like hell and he resisted the urge to scream under the water, but it worked. He gained momentum. He closed his eyes tightly to picture her face better. The more he could see her smile and hear her laugh, the greater his urgency was to break to the surface. He was, however, still a long way away and his lungs started begging him for air. They became so tight that he was almost sure they would pop.

There's no way. The surface was still twenty feet away and still suffering the after affects of the tidal wave from the plane. How could something so close be so far? House achieved so much in his life and quickly became angry with himself that he couldn't swim up fast enough to get air in order to stay alive. Something that small, he couldn't do. If he couldn't do that, how the hell would he be able to float and wait to be rescued?

With no more than ten feet to go, House gave up. He was too worn out to continue. If he couldn't help himself, what good was he to anyone else? What good was he to Cuddy?

House wasn't one to give up and the thought of it shot his ego. Good thing he'd be able to take that information with him to the grave with him. At this rate, it didn't look so good.

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