Here it is Chapter 1. Love that I already got reviews, thank you so much! Like I said this is my first fanfic, and this is chapter 1 :) chapter 2 in progress I should have it up by Sunday. Enjoy!

Colors, lots of colors danced around her. Fire trucks, ambulances, an array of indistinct people talking at once, but she could not hold onto anything. Nothing made sense. When Cuddy finally emerged from her blurry fog she retreated to, it was Wilson's voice slowly calling her back to reality.

"Cuddy, Lisa…" Wilson gently placed his one good hand on her cheek, "Stand up let's get you out of here." Wilson grabbed Cuddy's hand, pulled her to her feet, and helped her steady herself again.

"I'm fine Wilson; you don't have to make that face." Cuddy said as she un-wrapped the blanket from around her body. She hadn't a clue where the blanket even came from. All she knew at that moment was that her house was broken and the man that she loved had hurt her beyond imagination.

Wilson led Cuddy to his car without her even realizing where he was taking her. Cuddy hesitated, "Wait, I'm fine Wilson I already told you; you don't have to rescue me." She made a weak attempt at a smile, and then faltered.

"Cuddy, you have a hole in your house. You can't stay here tonight. Your Mom already picked Rachel up from pre-school and took her home with her for the weekend. Julia packed you a bag, please don't argue and just get in the car, you're staying with me."

Cuddy exhaled and looked up, it was a beautiful night…it was night, when did that happen she wondered. With a deep exhale Cuddy finally looked into Wilsons eyes and saw her pain reflecting in them. She reached out and grabbed his arm, he was an anchor for her, she knew that; the only one that would understand.

"Thank you," Cuddy said, she let go of Wilsons arm and got in the car.

They drove in silence, neither one having the energy for small talk, nor even an attempt to analyze the drastic chain of events. All Cuddy knew is she didn't want to think, didn't want to analyze anything. She looked down at her lap and for the first time realized she was clutching the police report. The restraining order glared at her and she couldn't bear to look at it. It took all of her not to shed a tear over the last couple hours, not to show her pain, but it finally became too much.

Wilson looked over as the tears slowly rolled down Cuddy's face. He searched for the words of comfort, the famous Wilson advice to make things better, to placate the moment, but came up empty. There was nothing he could say, his best friend had made an irrevocable mess of things and there was no turning back the clocks. He knew House was gone, for how long who knows, but he knew.

Wilson turned into the parking lot and shut off the engine. Neither of them moved, Cuddy silently wiped her tears and tried to compose herself. Why, she didn't know. This was Wilson. She knew there was no judgment from him, and she could let herself be comforted by him. Wilson was the one to move first. He opened his door and went to fetch her things from the trunk. Cuddy followed suit, still clutching the paperwork she got out of the car and followed Wilson to his front door.

"The room down the hall on the left is yours; the bathroom is right next to it. Towels are in the bathroom linen closet…"

"It's okay Wilson, thank you, I know the layout of the house, I was supposed to buy it remember." Cuddy said as she made another weak attempt at a smile.

"Ah yes, I had forgotten." Wilson brought her things to the bedroom for her and placed them at the foot of the bed. When he got back out to the kitchen he noticed Cuddy was perched on a barstool staring down at the paperwork.

"What are you going to do with that?" Wilson asked hesitantly.

Cuddy looked up; she hadn't a clue what she was going to do. A few hours ago she was filled with such shock, and then her shock became rage, that she had wanted to press charges, wanted to hurt him more than anything. Now she didn't have any answers, would having charges pressed against him, against the man she loved for most of her adult life, change anything?

"Where do you think he is?"

"Do you really care Cuddy?"

Cuddy didn't know what to say to that, did she care? How can someone turn off feelings that they've carried for so long?

"I…I don't know." Cuddy looked away. Yes she cared, she always cared. No matter what the son-of-a-bitch does to her she still cares. House was like a drug she needed to kick, an infestation that nothing could remedy.

"Look, Cuddy…it's okay to press charges, he deserves it. What he did was out of control, beyond reckless. It's okay to make him finally for once in his life face what he's done."

Cuddy looked up at Wilson, "I know." Cuddy quietly spoke.

"It's been a long day, how about I run you a bath or something, maybe it will help you sleep." Wilson went to leave as Cuddy arose from her barstool to stop him, "I'm not sure anything will help me sleep tonight, thank you Wilson for everything." She came over to him, slowly remembering that he was wearing a sling, how did that happen she wondered.

"When I saw House come back, I jumped out of the way." Wilson said. Realizing that she had spoken that last thought out loud Cuddy nodded, knowing now that she didn't have all the details leading up to the crash.

"He saw me." Cuddy hesitated. "I know he saw me through the window…having coffee with-"

"Cuddy please, you can't do this, don't start rationalizing his behavior, not tonight."

"Wilson please I need to know the bits and pieces of what happened today. All of it. So I can be done and move on. It has to be now. I don't want to wake up and start re-hashing everything." She paused and took a breath to gather herself; she could feel the tears threatening her again. "The last I saw him we were in the hallway of the hospital, he—we talked, then he walked away."

Wilson looked into her pleading eyes and knew she meant what she said. She could handle it. He began:

"I went to his apartment. He was sitting alone, staring at nothing. We had a fight earlier about his pills. I found out that he was forging my signature again, and realized the amount he was taking. When I told him no more we left it at that, but I knew because of the surgery and—" Wilson cleared his throat, faltering over his next choice of words to her, "—and, because of the fall-out with you, he was fragile. I went over to take him out for a drink, to distract him from doing anything crazy." He noticed Cuddy wince from that last sentence.

"Like I said, he seemed focused, sad, but focused on something. Then he went into his bathroom and got a brush, he said he had to return it to you, that we could stop on the way and for me to wait in the car. We drove in silence, but I knew what he was thinking. Whatever happened with you guys earlier had an effect on him. He was a—"

"We had a fight…" Cuddy softly interrupted. "No, not a fight, I pushed him into talking. To finally clear the air between us and maybe have a chance to move forward…but I pushed. He reacted forcefully at first and then there was a moment—I saw it in his eyes…how much I had hurt him. It was too much for him, and for me, I grabbed his hand away from my arm, he was holding me so tight. I knew in that moment we would never be done, there was always going to be something between us no matter how hard I fought it. All I could say was I'm sorry, I had run away from him, hurt him. There were no other words I could speak out loud. He was so close to me I couldn't think straight. Then he was gone, he let go of my hand and—"

Cuddy was shaking, just talking about the hallway, it was all consuming. She had felt it when she made the rash decision to agree to a coffee date, but she pushed through, kept telling herself that she needed a man that was not royally screwed up. That her love for him would fade if she just tried harder to fight it. She had already walked away from him, left him at his doorway, she couldn't go back and start over, she had walked away for a reason, for her and for Rachel; but she wanted to go back. Every part of her soul was screaming to go after him in that hallway, to make it work. She had loved him for decades, why did she try so hard to deny him a permanent spot in her life? There would be no other man like him, never. As hard as she looked she had come to that clear understanding years before, but this was House. House, she had refused to think or speak his name since the accident, but there it was.

"Cuddy? " Wilson's concern interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm sorry. You can tell me the rest of it. I will be okay."

"We pulled up to your home like I said not much was spoken, but I knew. The way he held the hairbrush I knew, he came to settle something, to finish what you have now told me started in the hallway. He got out and walked up to your home, then paused. I didn't see what he saw but when he came back I was surprised." Wilson stopped talking. He didn't want to hurt her or make her feel guilty, that was the last thing she needed now.

"Wilson?" Now it was Cuddy's turn to interrupt his thoughts.

"Cuddy, I don't know…he was broken, what he saw, hurt him; that much was clear. He was more broken then I have ever seen him, but that's no excuse Cuddy. He reacted like House. His broken heart and pain turned into rage, like it always does. He told me to get out in a very cold voice and I listened, I had no choice. I thought he would drive away, and he did at first, but he hesitated for a moment, turned around and…you know the rest."

Cuddy nodded and looked at Wilson through welled eyes. "Thank you Wilson." Cuddy gathered the papers from the counter and walked towards him. "Now I know everything." She said as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She was forever grateful for Wilson, and not just for tonight. "I'm going to try to sleep. I think we both need it."

"Yeah you're right," Wilson said as the throbbing in his arm settled in, "Goodnight Cuddy."

"Goodnight Wilson."

They parted ways and Cuddy went to the bedroom designated for her and closed the door. She started to get undressed for bed when it she saw it, one of his shirts sitting on top of the dresser. It was House's shirt; this was House's old room. Of course! What a perfect ending to a horrific day. He must have spent the night over at Wilson's recently because when she walked over to it she could already smell him. His scent was all over it, it was unmistakable. She would never forget that smell of him. She stopped just short of reaching out to bring it closer to her face. She left it there, untouched, remembering why she was here in this room in the first place.

END OF CHAPTER 1