16.

Wilson took his own sweet time. He knew instinctively that mother and daughter were trembling on the brink of something major, either a much needed heart-to-heart or a fistfight. He had already determined to make a quick exit long before Arlene Cuddy gave him a meaningful look.

But when she did, her unspoken message only served to hasten his departure. Wilson was smart enough to require no further urging.

Quite frankly, the last place James Wilson wanted to be was in the middle of a war of words between two opinionated, domineering women. And as onlooker to such a fray, Wilson knew he was in very grave danger of being required, by one or the other, to choose sides. His instinct for self preservation duly noted that the involvement of his current boss was reason enough to beat a hasty retreat and avoid the gathering storm.

Even though the ramifications of choosing sides against his boss and friend, Lisa Cuddy, would be dire, Wilson could not help but feel a strong pull toward the opposite direction. For he felt genuinely obliged to Arlene Cuddy for positively influencing her daughter on the subject of his best friend, Gregory House.

Nothing he had said or done since Cuddy had broken up with House had seemed to sway her thoughts or feelings in the slightest. But obviously, whatever Arlene discussed with her daughter after she interrupted the wedding ceremony had been earth shattering enough to finally make Lisa see she was about to make a terrible mistake by falling into a trap of her own misguided design.

When Cuddy came out of her room to witness the argument between Wilson, Julie and Lucas her appearance seemed to suggest that the scales had finally fallen from her eyes. She saw Lucas for the man he was, a coward who had taken his jealousy and aggression out on a cripple. He could never be worthy of the commitment of marriage with a person like herself.

Wilson had seen it in her eyes as soon as she opened the door. She was thinking of House. Somehow, Arlene and the rabbi helped Cuddy to realize she was still in love with him. Wilson's heart leapt at the prospect that she had finally, gratefully submitted to that understanding and to all that her love for someone as complex as House would entail.

Whether House and Cuddy could make it together long term was not the issue. The soul of the matter lay in Cuddy's inability to face her true feelings for Gregory House and his for her. Until they worked through their love for each other, they would never truly be free – free to forgive each other and move on together or to release each other and travel forward on their separate paths.

But Wilson seriously doubted whether these two flawed individuals, so hopelessly entangled with one another, could ever truly advance in their lives without each other. They were inextricably linked within the grip of a seemingly magnetic hold, stronger even than the moon's pull upon the tides.

Since the breakup, Cuddy had been like the waning moon, hollow, distant and cold, shrinking further into herself, hiding herself away from her friends and loved ones, even her own daughter and burying herself in her work.

And House, House had been utterly wrecked. A shell of his former self, House was, in Wilson's opinion, in an even worse position than he had been after his breakup with Stacey. For this time, Wilson was sure, House had been in love, perhaps more in love with Cuddy than anyone else he'd ever known.

House not only had his heart shattered, he'd also lost what little hope he'd had left. It seemed all his ideas of happiness were pinned to the success of his romantic relationship with Cuddy so that when she broke up with him, everything else positive and hopeful had been ripped away from him as well.

Seeing his two best friends thusly had torn Wilson apart. And he felt completely powerless to help either one of them.

Nor could he hinder them from their individual spirals toward self destruction. He knew at some point, Cuddy would break out from her downward spiral, either for herself or on behalf of her daughter.

But House's emotional nose dive would not be abated.

Wilson ruefully observed that Lisa Cuddy had crippled his best friend twice in his life. The first time, it had only been House's leg. The second time, her incapacitation of House was far more complete and devastating.

For this last time, unless something was done on Cuddy's part to make some sort of amends or to give an indication that she at least still cared for House, Wilson innately knew that his best friend would never recover. House would continue on his current path in what would eventually become a long, drawn-out, suicidal fall to the very depths of his own hell.

Wilson glanced at his watch. He had already allowed what he thought was a reasonable amount of time to pass before returning to House's room. He'd unhurriedly finished his rounds on the oncology floor before going to the pharmacy and retrieving a prescription of valium for Cuddy.

He figured that by this time whatever needed to be done or said between mother and daughter would be finished and done with. And Lord knew that after yet another confrontation with her mother, Cuddy would probably need some sort of sedative.

As he made his way back to House's room, Wilson was unsure of exactly what he would find when he got there. Would the feminine altercation result in any physical destruction? Or would the two participants retreat to their separate corners like boxers preparing for the next round?

What he did not expect was what he actually found. Arlene sat alone next to House. She was wiping her eyes in a gesture that implied she had been crying for some time.

"Arlene? What happened? What's going on? Where's Cuddy?"

Arlene turned to face the approaching Wilson. She straightened in her chair, preparing to defend herself.

"James. I am in no mood . . ."

"I don't care what mood you're in. Where's your daughter? House will be waking up soon. Cuddy needs to be here."

Arlene put something in her purse and stood up, preparing to leave. "I don't feel like answering your questions," she said. "And I don't care for your tone."

Wilson raked a shaking hand through his thick, dark hair. His guilt and fears over House and Cuddy had frayed his nerves, making them like over-tightened piano wire. Just another turn of the key, just a little more tension and he would snap.

"And I don't need this crap from you. Why can't you answer a simple question? Unless . . ." Wilson's eyes began to widen with both understanding and incredulity. "What did you say to her? What did you do to chase Cuddy away from the man she loves just when he need's her the most?"

At these words, Arlene did what was to Wilson the most extraordinary thing. Instead of yelling and arguing back, she broke down sobbing, sitting down hard into her chair.

"Lisa doesn't know her own mind. She . . . she doesn't know if she loves Greg enough to . . ."

"What did you say to her?" Wilson was livid.

"Lisa doesn't like to face the reality of a situation," Arlene choked. "She only sees what she wants to see, how things should be instead of how they really are. She's always needed to be pushed to face the truth, to face her fears."

"Pushed? After everything she's gone through in the last 48 hours you . . . pushed her? You don't think that maybe you should have waited? That maybe you pushed her too hard?" he yelled.

"She was looking for the easy way out . . . again. Just like she did before, just like when she went running back to Lucas. She can't keep doing that. Not to Greg. Not to herself. She has to stand up and fight for what she really wants, for who she wants, for the man she truly loves."

"And you chose to tell her that NOW?"

Arlene had stopped crying. She went into full defense mode.

"When push comes to shove, Lisa has ALWAYS performed well under pressure. She needs to be pushed to see beyond herself and what she wants, to see the right way of doing things."

Wilson exhaled loudly, shaking his head. He knew there was truth in what Arlene was saying, he could not deny that fact. House had long ago relayed this same observation about Cuddy to him. Hell, he'd witnessed the validity of it himself.

For weeks he had been struggling with Cuddy's flagrant disregard for House's feelings and the denial of her own. Wilson had known her long enough to see what a mistake she was making. And of course, her mother had known her and seen these familiar behavior patterns play out time and time again.

Wilson struggled to keep his voice even as he spoke. "I'm not saying that maybe you're not right. Cuddy needs to face some truths about herself, about House, about the both of them together. But what I AM saying is that your timing is questionable."

Arlene inhaled deeply and held the breath. Finally, she closed her eyes and exhaled, nodding her head in agreement with Wilson.

"I need to go talk to your daughter. And I need you to stay here with House until I get back. Can you do that?"

Arlene nodded again.

"Good. Have me paged when he starts to wake up. Hopefully, I'll be back before then. Hopefully, Cuddy will too."

He turned to go.

"James?"

He stopped in the doorway but did not turn around.

"Good luck. And . . . thank you."

Wilson continued on his way, shaking his head as his thoughts whirled like dry leaves in a gust of wind. He walked quickly over to the elevators and pressed the down button. As the doors slid open and then closed behind him, he desperately tried to martial his courage and his thoughts before facing Cuddy.

He knew he needed to intercede on House's behalf. Yet, the last time he had done so, the encounter had ended in total disaster. House continued to wheel out of control as Cuddy, having cut the legs out from under him, closed herself off and hid in her office.

No amount of coaxing or wheedling worked on either of them. Wilson had felt so helpless and hopeless. He hurt for the both of them.

The elevator doors opened on the lobby and Wilson strode forward toward Cuddy's office. He did not kid himself. She would be there, sitting silently in the dark, no doubt awaiting his arrival.