Flare Up

The pain was intense for the first twenty-four hours. Cindy took a few more days off from work to stay by his side through the worst of it. Greg was, by far, unpleasant. His irascible mood and berating comments bit hard. He seemed to know how to push each person to a breaking point.

Remy Hadley wanted to stay far away from her boss as possible. She even offered to work more clinic hours, but Dr. Cuddy pretty much ordered her to House's room.

"He's alert, and he wants to rip you a new one," Cuddy smirked, remembering how it felt to be on the receiving end of the worst House had to offer.

Thirteen steeled herself against the inevitable. When she reached his room, she noted Cindy was there. Maybe he would be civil in her presence. Fat chance! She knocked, then entered.

"Hey," Remy said hesitantly.

"I guess I have to thank you," Greg grimaced through the pain.

"Definitely not the 'talking to' she was expecting to get. Her eyes were wide with shock.

"Don't look so surprised."

"I thought you'd be upset."

"I'm more upset that I didn't have the procedure done right off the bat. I was going to wait for my follow-up to suggest it." He noted the mixed expression. "Your lips are smiling but your eyes are frowning. What's on your mind?"

"Well, the thought of you going to a follow-up is amusing. Yet I'm concerned you waited so long."

"Hello, thought you knew me. I'm a glutton for punishment." House was trying to be funny, but the pain was mounting.

"When's the last time you had something for the pain?"

"About that. Whatever I'm getting isn't helping. It's not even taking the edge off."

"You're not going to ask me to give you opiates or have Cuddy induce a coma or anything weird like that?"

"Ah, you've talked to Cuddy."

"I needed to know what you might expect and what I was up against."

"Now you know. I'm doing all I can to keep it together. Once I can't take it anymore, you're going to have to step in and make the decisions."

"What are your wishes?" She glanced to Cindy to see if she was paying attention.

"First, the anti-inflammatory are trashing my kidneys."

"How do you know?" Remy was curious.

"Consulted the top nephrologists in the world."

She had an a ha moment.

"Unless you get me off of them, I'm going to go into kidney failure. I'm not particularly fond of that idea. In order to trade off my life for…my life, the pain is going to be more than I care to handle. When that time comes, I want opiates."

He was very clear, yet Remy nodded hesitantly.

"You don't seem sure. I'm very certain that's what I want." House locked eyes with Remy.

"I'll talk to your doctors." She still didn't think it was a good idea, but she would talk to the powers that be.

"I'm counting on you as my proxy," he called out as Thirteen departed.

Cindy offered Greg a reassuring smile. "I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Cause you are being honest about the pain, about what you need."

"So it's okay to need opiates but not want them?"

"You can't always get what you want; but you get what you need."

"I need a little something, something to take the edge off." His voice was tired.

"DUH!" He hit the call button.

A nurse came into the room. "What can I help you with?"

"I need something for the pain."

"I'll check your chart."

"Good, you do that. Then bring a goddamn syringe full of muscle relaxants, anesthetic or a paralytic. I don't care. Just bring me something, NOW!"

"Calm down," Cindy put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"Fine. Get exacerbated. Have a fucking heart attack. Be miserable and dead. It suits you." Why was he so insufferable?

If someone could grimace with pain and laugh at the same time, it was House.

"I was just kidding about the heart attack part," Cindy said sheepishly.

"Shut up." It was half moaned, half yelled.

Before either one of them could take their tiff any further, the nurse returned. House held up his wrist where the IV port was.

"Not this time," she said pulling the blanket aside.

"Where are you putting that?"

"In your hip."

"Like hell!"

She injected him, but not without trouble. He was trying to swat her away while having his own brand of temper tantrum. The nurse huffed in frustration, leaving without charting the injection.

"You should worry less about yelling at everybody and more about resting."

"But what she did was idiotic," Greg whined.

"So what? It's not your right to abuse the staff," Cindy reasoned. "And by the way, rumor has it you think everybody's an idiot. So why waste your breath?"

He pulled his had away from hers. "It's the pain."

"You barely let her get it in you."

"It's not helping." The desperation in his voice was unnerving.

"It'll never be enough if you keep being agitated. Just accept that the next person that walks through the door is going to be a pain in the ass, and let it go."

"That takes all the fun out of being a misanthropic ass."

"But you're my misanthropic ass. I don't want to share you." She grabbed his hand back and kissed it.

He tried to shift over on the bed. Big mistake. He pulled away again, ramming the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Why did you do that?" Cindy knew that little effort was both excruciating and exhausting.

"I wanted to make room for you on the bed. I want to hold you."

"Okay," she said, complying. "I've got enough room."

It wasn't easy, but awkward and uncomfortable to try to not hurt him or cause him any discomfort. She snuggled in as close as she dared without adding any disturbance to his body. Greg wrapped his arm around her. Cindy could feel his tension. After a few minutes he began to relax.

"Are you going to ask me to promise to be nice to people?" He could only see the top of her head, so he looked up at the ceiling.

"Hell no, everyone knows you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"Are you saying I'm old?"

"No, I'm saying you're a dog."

The both chuckled.

"But I'm your dog." He couldn't believe his luck to have found a woman who understood how to deal with him. No matter how awful his behavior or how verbally harsh he was, she didn't try to change him. She pointed out the error of his ways, then proceeded to tell him she still wanted him.

Cindy lay at his side smiling. He was calming down. No doubt this type of comfort relaxed him; lessened the pain. If this was all it took, she'd be able to supply him with this type of pain relief as often as needed.

They lay there, falling asleep holding each other while the Dean of Medicine finished hearing the complaints of House's most recently abused nurse. The staff was becoming adamant that House was purposefully being mean. Cuddy had no doubt House was exercising his sarcastic muscle. It's what he did best when he was in pain. Obviously he was suffering. She'd have to do something to ease the nursing staff's grief and aggravation - before the union threatened to strike.

Determined to request his cooperation for the sake of the staff, she headed to his room. She wasn't prepared for what she found. Her first thoughts were not of 'thank god he's resting' or 'he looks much calmer', but of 'what in the hell is SHE doing on the bed with HIM!' "This is a hospital, not a bordello," she mumbled, unaware that her fists were clenched.

Instead of heading into the room and checking with the patient, she walked behind the nurses' station and made a call.

Wilson stopped dead in his tracks, frowning. Leave it to House to find a way to get a little something something while in the hospital. The fact that Cindy was there all day was annoying. Laying on the bed was just wrong.

"Oh dear," Blythe House gasped as she realized her son wasn't the only body in the bed.

Cindy woke up with a start. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. She quickly tried to untangle herself from Greg and get off the bed. She nearly fell in the process.

Greg stirred at the disruption but remained asleep.

"You must be Greg's new friend. Wilson mentioned…you." Mrs. House wasn't sure how to refer to the woman she just caught in her son's bed.

"Cindy McNalty. I can only assume you must be Greg's mother."

Blythe introduced herself. "How is he?"

"Resting finally. He was having a tough time earlier."

"So you crawled into bed with him and made it all better," Wilson asked innocently.

Blythe was astonished by the tone of his comment.

Cindy smiled evilly. So many nasty replies waited to be said. "I won't apologize for Dr. Wilson's poor remark. You see, he thinks Greg and I have a purely sexual relationship. He couldn't be farther from the truth. Greg and I are not sexually involved."

"Not yet," House pipe up. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey. She left Wilson and Cindy to glare at each other while she kissed her son's cheek.

"You didn't have to come. How'd you find out?"

They both looked over her shoulder at James.

"She called me. What was I supposed to tell her?"

"It's okay," he told Wilson. "I'm glad you're here, Mom."

"Now, tell me how you're doing and what I can do to help you."

"I'm okay," he sighed easily. He was finally getting some relief. "As for the 'what can I do to help', how about you lay here with a metal rod in your leg and I'll hang out with Wilson."

She smirked. "As tempting as that sounds, I'll have to pass."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he said to nobody in particular. "Could you guys take your hate fest out into the hall. I have to talk to my mom."

Once his friends were outside, he studied his mom carefully. "Why are you really here?"

"James called me." She watched her son scowl. "Don't be mad at James, he was concerned."

"Did he tell you I needed a kidney or that I needed to be rescued from my girlfriend?"

"You have a girlfriend? I didn't notice."

"Ha ha." His tone was sarcastic, but his smile met his eyes.

"They're going to throw you out of here in a day or two. You're going to need someone to take care of you for a while."

"I can hire people."

"You don't want your mom to take care of you?"

"You have a life. You shouldn't have to take care of your kid. Even if it's an old kid."

"Since your father died, I've been doing a lot of things to find purpose. One of the things I wanted to do is spend some time with my son."

Greg's smile turned to a grimace. "What time is it?"

"Four thirty-ish." She checked her watch.

"Okay, good." He made a mental note of when he could get another dose.

"If you're hurting, ask for something." Blythe was worried her son would wait too long.

He shook his head. "Just had one."

Mrs. House stepped away to the bathroom. She returned to her son's bedside with a wet wash cloth in her hand. The coolness against his face would make him feel better.

Greg closed his eyes. The only other person he'd tolerate this from was Cindy. And even then he'd say something derogatory. But he couldn't berate his mother. She'd be hurt by his comments.

Instead he remained quiet and docile. The time of the first infarction was on his mind. Cindy stood where Stacey once had. His mother had been supportive - as supportive as one could be with a man like John House for a husband. The one thing Greg heard over and over was Stacey telling him how he was pushing her away.

That confession came five years after the fact-when her husband was dying. He was so hurtful, so angry with her for allowing them to remove the dead and dying muscle tissue. And it was worse that he thought she did it to prove to him she was the stronger willed of the two. If she could physically cripple him, then she could be the more powerful of the duo.

Greg shuddered with that thought. It was irrational and a stupid thing to believe. But at that time he was vulnerable. And he was vulnerable now. Pushing away the people who cared about him would be bad. He still wasn't completely over Stacey. The fact that she wasn't an active part of his life made it easier to forget her; but the minute her name was mentioned or he saw someone that looked like her, his heart skipped a beat. Secretly, a small part of him wanted her to know that he had survived another infarct. And this time nobody tried to chop off his leg.

The dichotomy made him chuckle. What was there left to prove? Nothing. He had family and a friend or two who loved him, stood beside him and believed in his judgment. And he had Cindy. The promise of Cindy and some kinky sex gave him something to look forward to. He chuckled again.

"Are you lucid?"

Greg's eyes focused on Cuddy. "Where's my mom?"

"She went to your apartment a few hours ago."

"She was just here." He felt confused.

"You fell asleep after we gave you an injection for the pain."

"I don't recall-"

"Don't' worry too much about it. It's more powerful than you remember." Cuddy placed a reassuring hand on his forearm.

"Is Cindy still around?"

"She went home, too. Do you want me to stay with you? Cuddy wanted to. A pang of jealousy made her want to cling to this man and keep a claim on him.

"I'll be okay. You can go home to your rugrat. She needs you more."

"I don't want to leave you if you need me." Cuddy brushed the hair back from his brow.

Greg didn't miss the fact that she was doting on him. Was this one of those benefits that he reserved for those he was intimate with? Or was this just a gesture of friendship? It was hard to tell. Since having Rachel, her maternal instincts were much stronger than she'd wanted to admit. He decided it was just a mom thing.

It didn't stay just a mom thing for long. Cuddy's eyes pierced his, looking for a familiar spark between them. Greg had a hard time looking away, but he forced himself to look elsewhere. She held his cheek in her hand, caressing it, daring him to tell her to stop. When he didn't, she kept it up.

"Did they say when they were coming back?" He raised his hand to hers, gently pulling it away from his face.

"No."

Great, now she was upset that he stopped her. But it was beginning to feel like the friends with benefits clause he decided against when they bargained what their relationship would be.

"Lisa," he started, yet really wasn't sure what he was going to say. "I can't." He shook his head.

He didn't have to say anything else. She understood that he was rejecting her. She shook her head in agreement. "You're right. It's wrong of me to think that you would want me to comfort you when all I did was nag and try to make you into something you could never be."

No sooner had she left, he hit the call button. Cuddy was confused as the nurse passed her and went into his room. She waited at the desk to see what he needed.

The nurse returned with his chart and made a phone call to a number she found in it.

Cuddy eavesdropped on the call. Her heart sinking when the nurse told Cindy that House was asking for her to come.

"Are you okay," Cindy unraveled herself from her winter garments and laid them on the chair next to the bed. She quickly stepped to Greg's side and took over what Cuddy had been doing a short while before.

"I was feeling a bit vulnerable. And you're a good influence on me. So I thought, 'what the hell, let's see if she's interested in coming over and having a game of twister'." He tried to smile but failed.

"What's really wrong?" Cindy wasn't fooled. She knew he was too proud to ask for anyone to sit with him. Granted he wouldn't necessarily throw you out if you were there, unless you made his pain worse.

"I think my ex is forgetting that we're not a couple anymore." He hated saying it like that, but he didn't know how else to put it.

"So you needed to show a force of solidarity." Cindy scowled. "Thanks for using me."

"I know that's what it sounds like, but it's not what it is."

"Greg, you have one hell of a way of expressing yourself." She kissed him to let him know it was okay. She understood.

"Why do you always find the good in me? Even when I'm mean and bitter, you see right through it to what I really am trying to accomplish." He held her hand while looking deeply into her eyes.

"I don't know. I guess I figure most people are misunderstood."

"I'm not most people."

"You certainly aren't."

"One day you're going to realize that I'm not misunderstood. You'll realize you misunderstood me." He was afraid that she'd wake up one day and realize he wasn't worth the effort anymore.

"You think so? You think that I don't worry that one day you'll figure out I'm not who you think I am? What you feel is very Jungian."

"Oh god, psycho-babble."

"Okay, okay, no psychoanalysis. Just know you're not alone in how you perceive yourself and how you are perceived. We all display onstage behavior to the world. That's just an act. It's what we reveal to each other behind the scenes that matters. And I still like what I'm seeing behind the blackout curtain."

He was smiling. Maybe she didn't misunderstand him after all.

"Besides, my mother always told me that if you could put up with a partner when they were sick, you could pretty much deal with anything."

"So I'm passing the litmus test?"

Cindy bunched up her face. "Actually, I think she said if your partner can put up with you when you're at your worst, then he's a keeper."