Thanks for reading, people! And thanks for the reviews! =)

And a big thanks to my beta supershipper!

I think I'm getting to the end of it, maybe two or three more chapters, we'll see.

Here we go again with Cuddy telling the story.


Saturday, Cuddy's house

People who say that ignorance is bliss obviously don't know what it's like to be a woman obsessing about the past. This is why I was there, again, talking to Wilson.

I got straight to the point:

"I need you to tell me what House told you."

"I told you, he just said you helped him detox." Wilson repeated.

"You are lying. I'm doubling your clinic hours this month."

"Oh, that's very mature."

"Wilson… I am asking this as a friend. I really need to know."

"You know, this is getting counterproductive. For years I have been caught in the middle, trying to talk some sense into House about you and vice versa. I am tired of it. You want to know things you shouldn't know! We shouldn't be here talking about any of that. We should be waiting to hear from the doctors and thinking about going to…"

"You know… House isn't here. So you are stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what he told you. I'm really tired of not knowing. You've been telling me things for months about how he feels about me. But I'm starting to think everything only happens in his head, or maybe yours, because I never see anything and…"

"All right, but you have to promise me - and this is really serious - not to say anything to House."

"Oh, relax, whatever it is he has told you, he knew you'd end up telling me. He knows you can't keep a secret."

"I'm moved by your faith in me." he deadpanned.

"Don't be a baby. Come on."

"Don't be so sure about that, Cuddy. He's not himself. I doubt he told me those things knowing I'd tell you, unlike other times."

"You spent months being a pain in the ass, pointing out that I should do something about House and me. I'm tired of the games, I need to know the truth."

"You ignored the truth for so long, now you are interested in the product of House's subconscious?"

"It doesn't get more truthful than that."

He sighed.

"You know there is such a thing as too much truth."

"Oh, dear God… sometimes I think it's easier to talk to House. At least he would never say that."

"You are out of your mind. You know, Cuddy, I already took House to Mayfield, do you want me to get you admitted as well?"

"Yeah, I must be out of my mind thinking you'd be like you always were. House hasn't been gone two days and you are already lost without him!"

Wilson was getting pissed of at me. That whole conversation was so frustrating. I know we were both mourning, and this was the best we could do to cope with everything, but I was getting pissed off at him too.

"I give up! He said that you spent the night at his place, threw out all the Vicodin bottles he had stashed in his apartment and in the morning he didn't let you leave, so you… slept together."

He stopped for a second, but I didn't interrupt, knowing there was more.

"He also said that you had a couple of conversations throughout the night, and that you told him that you had always thought he was an interesting lunatic – I believe that's how he put it – and that's why you audited his endocrinology class back at Michigan. This is why I asked you about how the two of you met. I wanted to find out if it was true."

"There, that's all… and I hope you respect what I said before about not telling him since you…"

My hand traveled up to my mouth and I could guess, by the look on his face, that I didn't look well…

"Cuddy, are you okay?"

"God! Are you…. Are you sure he used those words?"

"I… I don't know, I mean… you know he's confused and…"

"Don't joke about this, I'll be right back."

I ran into my bedroom as he walked into the kitchen to get me a glass of water.

I searched my bottom drawer desperately for proof that I hadn't gone insane as well. And I found it. The old, stained piece of paper. I was so afraid to read it again. That letter had never left my hands; I never had the courage to send it. So I kept it, hidden under piles of clothes and old college books. Hidden in a little place inside my heart that I never visited anymore.

I decided to read it again, my hands were shaking.

"Dear Greg,

When you came into my bedroom the other night, you said you couldn't leave Michigan with the night of the party being the last thing I remembered of you. You said you were not that guy and that you needed me to know that. I've always known. Now that you are leaving, I feel like I need to confess something. How we met… it wasn't by accident. I audited your endocrinology class two years ago because I've always thought you were an interesting lunatic. And that lunatic became my best friend. Thank you for an amazing night!

Love,

Lisa."

As I finished reading, I was crying my eyes out. How did he know?

And Wilson came back.

"What's going on, Cuddy!"

"He… how could he…?

"What's that paper?"

I hid the paper in my back pocket.

"Never mind. You… you should go. I'll be okay."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell what this is all about."

"Wilson! House knows something he shouldn't know."

"Well, that makes two of you, and as for me, I'm still clueless."

God! It was getting worse by the minute. I just sat there on the floor and started telling the story.

"I didn't tell you the whole story yesterday. About two weeks before House left Michigan, we slept together. He left before I woke up the next day and we spent two weeks sharing looks around school, both too proud to say anything. We never talked about it."

"So I wrote him a letter. I had a couple of things I wanted to say, but I never had the guts to give it to him. And he left. Not knowing how I felt."

"And what does it have to do with what I told you before?"

"In that letter…" I was close to tears again. "In that letter I confessed to him that I audited his endocrinology class, that us meeting was not a coincidence. And I said that I did it because…" I sighed. "Because I thought he was an interesting lunatic."

"Oh, my God! You don't think…"

"Unless he's psychic, he knew what was on that letter. I don't know how. I mean, I wrote it the night before his last day there. I never gave it to him, we didn't even say goodbye."

"Cuddy… I'm speechless. And you never talked after that?"

"I guess I just kept waiting for him to come and talk to me, apologize, give me a sign that he wanted to see me again. I didn't have the guts to be the one to initiate that conversation. I spent another couple of years at Michigan and heard about him from time to time, but we lost contact. What we felt for each other… I mean, what I felt for him never got a chance to develop into something bigger. And with him gone, I had a thousand reasons not to do anything about it and just one to do something. I never did. And almost twenty years later… well, you know the rest of the story."

"What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean? I can't do anything. I can't just go there and demand an explanation. And worse, if he knew all this time, why didn't he do something about it. It's pretty clear to me that he had no interest at all in…"

"Oh, my God! Listen to yourself, woman! After what I told you, how can you still not be sure about his feelings for you!?"

"I'm not naïve, Wilson. I'm just saying he was aware of the facts and never did anything about it."

"Neither did you! And you have a different situation now. You are not in college…"

"Damn right we are not. We work together, things are twice as complicated now!"

"Aren't you tired of this, Cuddy?"

"Of what, Wilson?"

"Of the games, of hiding yourself behind your suits and pumps, putting your career…"

"It's not that! I'm a mother now, Rachel needs me, I can't just forget about my life and throw myself in House's arms as if we were meant to be or something. You know as well as I do that this is only going to end bad and I need to protect her."

"OH, MY GOD! Don't bring your daughter into this. This has nothing to do with her. This is about you being 14 years old when it comes to House and…"

"Yeah, because he's very mature when it comes to me."

"Let me finish! The suits and the pumps help you get the confidence to control him and do your job, but deep inside you are a schoolgirl waiting for the boy to ask you to the prom - a boy who will never ask you to the prom, but who has built a whole life around you. Are you going to keep waiting for the invitation or are you going to join him in the life he already made with you?"

"You are out of your mind! You've been watching too many chick flicks, Wilson!"

"And you are deflecting, you are scared as hell! Because if you make yourself available, if you lower your guard and he hurts you, he'll destroy the fantasy, the gigantic fantasy that you two have going on between yourselves. You have to make a choice here. You can either go talk to him, and I'm not saying you need to declare your love or anything like that. Just open a door, lower your guard, make yourself available. After what he went through, how much more proof do you want that you are what he needs? Or you can keep feeding the fantasy and hiding behind it, to see if it'll grow even more and become so painfully big that everything will happen by itself and you won't have to commit. It's your choice!"

"God, you can be annoying! Are you done?"

And that's when the phone rang.

"Dr. Cuddy." I answered my cell phone.

"Dr. Cuddy, this is Dr. Nolan from Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital."

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything is under control. I'm calling you to ask for Dr. Gregory House's medical records, I was told to call you."

"Sure, I'll have them on your desk by Monday morning."

"Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

"How's he doing?" I asked.

"He's settling in. It takes a while to get used to the hospital routine, but he's okay so far."

"That doesn't sound like him at all." I was concerned.

"So far we can say he's really depressed and still hallucinating. As soon as we get his medical records, we'll start a complete psychiatric evaluation. For now, we want to give him some time to adjust to life here."

"Dr. Nolan, adjusting is not something you'll see Dr. House doing anytime soon."

"You seem to know him really well, Dr. Cuddy. Why don't you bring me the files in person and we'll talk about his condition?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Nolan. That won't be possible. I'll ask Dr. Wilson to take them to you and you can talk to him. If you need to talk to him, his number must be on Dr. House's papers, he was admitted under his name."

"Okay, but if you ever want to ask me anything, you have my number."

"Thank you, Dr. Nolan."

"What did he say?" Wilson asked.

"That House is still hallucinating but he's been adjusting very well."

"Adjusting? He's depressed."

"He also said that."

And I stopped for a second.

"He… never mind."

"What, Cuddy? What did he say?"

"He asked me if I could deliver the files in person and… well he doesn't even know who I am. House was admitted under your name. I mean…"

"You should go."

"I'm not going."

"Give me one good reason."

"I don't want to. You are taking the files and that's final."

"Cuddy, House is not well. He lost track of who he is. And you… you are a huge reminder of little parts of his story. You need to make yourself present. You need to show him that you know who he is. We both need to do that. I know they won't let us visit him all the time, but if you have the opportunity to go and talk to the doctors and maybe even talk to him, I think you should. If you keep acting like you don't care, he's going to feel it at some point and he's going to believe it."

"I'll have the files ready for you Monday morning and you can have the afternoon off to take them to Mayfield, talk to the doctors and do all of this you just said. But it won't be me."

___

Wilson left. I was emotionally exhausted. He must have been as well. But I needed him out of there. I needed time to prepare for the journey ahead of me and I needed to do it alone. I had a letter to deliver.