Disclaimer: I do not own House MD or any of the characters

A/N: Here's chapter 7! :D I hope you all had a great Christmas, and thank you all for your reviews.

Enjoy!

That night, House was calmly strumming his 1000 $ guitar and sipping scotch when the phone started incessantly ringing beside him.

"What?" he asked, obviously annoyed at the interruption.

"It's Wilson" came the oncologist's voice from the other end

"Yes, I gather that from the caller ID, what do you want?" he asked again.

"Its Cuddy …"Those mere words were enough to get House into a full sitting position, his Scotch forgotten on the table the phone had come from, his guitar lying at his feet "… she called me, she was having pain, she's at the hospital now, but the doctors aren't holding too much hope…"

House didn't understand this. Well, he understood what Wilson had just told him, he was, after all, a rational human being with an extensive vocabulary. But what he was feeling, the sudden nervousness and beating heart, that was all new to him, and, while he did understand where it all came from, he wasn't quite ready to admit it.

"House?" came Wilson's concerned voice from the phone "… you there?"

"Yea, yea … I, uh, I'll be right there"

And with that, House dropped the phone onto its holder and, grabbing his cane and keys, headed towards the hospital at a speed which, he was sure, substantially surpassed the legal speed limit.

"House! Here!" called Wilson sticking his head out of one of the hospital's best patient rooms.

Approaching the glass doors, House saw Cuddy, asleep, her face paler than in had been the last time she'd been in hospital, the glow that had been surrounding her for the past months somehow lost. And again his heart made its presence known.

Luckily, Wilson wasted no time in waiting for House to ask the questions "She had contractions. The amniotic sac is fine, dilation is minimal, but the baby did go into distress for a while. Everything is fine now, but she's really scared. She needs u…" before Wilson could finish his sentence, House nodded and took a step closer to Cuddy, looking down at her and all the machines hooked to her chest, abdomen, arms and hands.

This was a look Wilson had never seen on his friend's face. Concern. Pure, unadulterated concern. It was strange, scary, refreshing and a little daunting. Apparently all the stories and books were right, males were naturally protective of their offspring and females, and not even Greg House's many metaphorical brick walls and barbed wire fences could keep out the concern displayed on his face.

Recognizing that House was no longer aware of his presence, let alone of what he was saying, Wilson decided to do what he should have done that morning, and walked out the door, leaving House and Cuddy alone.

Suddenly, House didn't want to hide anymore, he didn't want to keep up the sarcasm, he didn't want to beat Cuddy at whatever unspoken game they'd picked for the week, he didn't want a puzzle to solve, he didn't want any of it. He just wanted her to open her eyes, to smile at him, to be the same Cuddy she'd always been, the same woman he'd loved for years.

Unconsciously, House drew the blinds on the glass walls of the room and found a seat in the chair across from the bed. If what Wilson had told him was true, and there was no reason for him to think it wasn't, then Cuddy would need her sleep, and for some reason, he was determined to sit there until she woke, and after that, he was pretty sure his new self would stay in that same seat until she was ready to leave.

Hazy.

That was the world Cuddy woke up to. She had been pumped full of several drugs and her body, just awaking from a long sleep, wasn't exactly happy at their presence.

Lisa, finally focusing on the world around her, took in her surroundings. Machines, cables, needles, drips. Suddenly it all came flooding back to her, the pain, the fear, the doctors … And then she spotted him. She was pretty sure he hadn't been there the previous night, actually, she was sure, she'd called Wilson, he'd rushed over, gotten in the ambulance with her, but there'd been no House. There was no logical reason for him to be there. And yet, there he was, fast asleep in a chair that she was sure was only slightly more comfortable than the floor it stood on, his head hanging slightly to one side, his cane leaning against the wall behind him and his right hand covering his thigh, either as a protective gesture or as an indication of pain; she wasn't sure which. But his mere presence made her feel better, calmer, less fearful.

He stirred. His head moved slowly back into line with the rest of his body, bobbed in place a couple of times and fell quickly towards his chest, the size of his ego obviously too big to be held up. In her bed, Cuddy laughed silently.

At the sudden movement of his head, House woke, the offensive body part shooting up so that he could now look at something other than his crumpled, un-ironed t-shirt. Cuddy. Hospital room. Pain. Deciding the latter was the one to deal with first, House instinctively reached for his Vicodin and popped two into his mouth. And as the pain subsided, the previous night flooded back to him, and his eyes shot quickly to the beautiful woman in front of him. Blue locked on blue and mouths simultaneously opened to talk.

"I…" began Cuddy

"Uh…" started House

At that very moment, and as had become customary, Wilson walked in the door. Of course, had House not drawn the blinds, the oncologist would have been able to see what was happening in the room and would probably have walked away, but House had, and so Wilson didn't.

"Morni…" he started and stopped in his tracks as Cuddy's eyes turned to him and House sank back into his chair "…ng"

"Moring Wilson" said Cuddy with a smile.

"You feeling better?" he asked looking at all the machines.

Cuddy nodded, in fact, she wasn't physically feeling anything "Yea, much better" she replied, relief apparent in her voice.

"Good" smiled Wilson as he turned to House "morning, sleeping beauty"

House shot him a sarcastic smile "morning"

"Why so pleasant?" asked Wilson moving around Cuddy's bed to the foetal monitor to check for any problems.

"Stiff chair" groaned House standing and holding onto his cane while he rubbed his leg.

Laughing a bit, Wilson smiled at Cuddy, a clear indication that he found no problem with the foetal monitor "Doesn't look like anything's wrong, but Dr. Bates is on his way, just to be safe" he explained

"No" came a friendly voice from the doorway "Dr. Bates is here" he smiled at Cuddy and Wilson before spotting House "Dr. House, are you lost?"

Fake-smiling at the obstetrician, House felt a series of sarcastic comments form in his brain, but somehow, a simple look at Cuddy made them vanish "No, just came to check on a colleague" he replied instead. Way to be inconspicuous, Greg he mentally kicked himself, knowing that none of the three doctors in front of him would buy what he had just said. Though, he guessed, it was better than telling them the truth, that would have definitely got them laughing.

"Right" answered the obstetrician, wondering what drugs the man was one this time "Anyway, Dr. Cuddy, we'd better check if everything's ok" looking at Wilson and House, he continued "Would you gentlemen" she hesitated her eyes on House at the word "excuse us for a bit?"

Nodding, Wilson made his way to the door, but turned back to find House hesitating. He saw the internal battle within the diagnostician, he saw how he wanted to say that no, that he was staying, because the exams concerned his child and the woman he loved, but he also saw the frightened, vulnerable guy that he was fighting the other guy, willing his legs to move, willing his arm to move the cane, and willing his whole body to leave the room. Ultimately, it was the latter that won, and House followed Wilson out the door, leaving Cuddy looking after him, wondering exactly what he had been thinking for those few seconds.

Wilson had never expected House to be able to voice his feelings, but he felt that the simple fact that the fight had been visible, that the feelings were getting closer to the surface was a good sign. And he hoped that soon, the real House would be able to break down the one he'd put up for all those years and do what he wanted to do, what Cuddy wanted him to do, and what their baby needed him to do.

TBC

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