Yay! Only a week! It's a bit shorter, but I thought it was a good place to stop. Besides, I figured you would want it now instead waiting any longer!

Hope to continue to please...and if you have the time, give me a little feedback :)

It was a little after ten at night when House and Cuddy found themselves walking through the familiar sliding doors into the emergency room of Princeton Plainsboro. They spotted Thirteen, slightly hidden behind a parted curtain, sitting upright on the gurney in the harsh lights of the hospital, looking intensely weary and frustrated, while her blood pressure was being recorded by a nurse. House approached first and Cuddy followed suit, coming around to the other side of the bed.

"You know that's twice in twenty four hours you have interrupted important moments in my life." House tilted his head as he spoke and checked her pupils without asking for permission.

"You guys look nice," She worriedly looked between the both of them. "I'm fine, it's Chase that's hurt." She gently swatted his hand away, and took the blood pressure wrap off her arm. "I had no idea they called you."

"They didn't, Wilson called him." Cuddy said gently, "What happened?"

She shook her head and let out a shaky sigh, "Uh…we were coming home from a bar and…we were heading through an intersection…a car's lights came out of nowhere. They ran the light."

"You were driving so they hit Chase's side." Cuddy replied.

"Yes…but he's awake…he was lucky," She paused as the visions of the accident clouded her features. "The car hit right behind his door, His arm is hurt and he hit his head, but they separated us the minute we got here." She hopped off the bed she was sitting on and unhooked her heart monitor.

"Hold on." Cuddy put a hand out to steady her as Thirteen faltered a bit. "House why don't you go check on Chase, and I will stay here." House stared at her a moment before he nodded his head and disappeared through the swinging doors.

"Sit please." Cuddy was still holding onto Thirteen's arm as she tried to not forcefully make her do what she asked.

"I'm really okay." Thirteen tried to look convincing, but saw her former boss give a convincing authoritative stare and obliged her request.

"You hit your head too, yes?" Cuddy moved around to the side of her head that she suspected was injured. Seeing a bright spot of blood, she began to pry her hair apart to inspect her gash closer. "Why didn't you tell the paramedics?"

"Because I wanted to ride with Chase…and I knew I was fine. It's superficial." She winced as Cuddy pulled a piece of hair that was starting to dry against it.

"You need stitches." Cuddy moved to the side of the room and pulled out a suture kit, placing it on the table she pulled off her jack and grabbed a pair of latex gloves. "I hope I don't have to tell you that hitting your head when you also have Huntington's are not facts to take lightly. You need to be checked thoroughly." Cuddy readied a needle with liticane to numb the area, "This will hurt."

Thirteen closed her eyes tightly against the pain of the needle until Cuddy was finished. "You really do look pretty…sorry again…"

"Thank you," Cuddy smiled as she began stitching up the side of her head, "But you don't need to apologize, it was an accident." Cuddy watched Thirteen's face change at the mention of the word accident and stopped what she was doing. "It was an accident right?" Thirteen remained quiet as Cuddy studied her for a moment longer before continuing her work. "Did you have an involuntary movement in your body…is that what caused this."

"My foot jerked…I was trying to get out of the way. I shouldn't have been driving…but Chase was drinking…I had no other choice."

"Why haven't you told him that your disease is progressing? I assume you too are together."

She sighed deeply as Cuddy cut the thread and finished her work, "Same reason House didn't tell you…" Thirteen looked sadly to Cuddy as she took off her gloves and came around to face her.

Cuddy struggled to maintain composed as the fear of House's illness began to swallow her, but she pushed it down, "Whatever you think you're doing…shielding him…ignoring the problem so that no one is allowed in to help you. At the end of the day, don't you want his support…his comfort?"

"He can't do anything for me…why should I allow him to worry when he already knows my outcome?"

"Because he will find out eventually…and it will hurt him when he learns you couldn't trust him with your fears. " Cuddy paused as her eyes began to well unwittingly. "At the very least, you have to come clean with House. You can't pretend to do procedures that could harm a patient if your hands begin to jerk."

"I've managed to find a way out of anything that could harm a patient."

Cuddy silently nodded as one of the nurses approached them, "Dr. Cuddy it's so nice to see you."

"Nice to see you too Melissa." Cuddy smiled and received a small hug.

"I heard a rumor you came by yesterday, but I thought they were lying." She came around to check Thirteen's monitor. "I see you already unhooked yourself, doctors make the worst patients."

"Yeah, do you know where Dr. Chase is?" Thirteen anxiously asked, ignoring the lecture.

"Uh, the last I checked he was getting an MRI."

Thirteen immediately hopped down from the bed once again before looking to Cuddy, as if to be excused.

"Go…" Cuddy said quietly, "Slowly please."

"Thank you." Thirteen matched Cuddy's tone before she turned and disappeared through the same doors House had minutes before.

The nurse continued on and Cuddy found herself alone in the unusual stillness throughout the emergency room. She looked around and realized how many faces she actually didn't know on the staff, 'I've been gone a long time,' she thought to herself as she gathered her things and her legs began to take her to the place where she had spent most of her time over the last decade of her life.

With a soft click, her office door opened up for her, the lights were off, and she kept it that way, using only the moon streaming through the windows to guide her path. Not that she even needed light; she could walk every inch of the floor blindfolded without missing a beat.

Placing her jacket and purse down on the sofa, she walked towards the shelves along the wall of her old office, and ran her hand over the rows of books, some of which she had possessed since med school. Everything looked the same, her small knick knacks that lay amongst the books, had remained untouched. 'He probably thought I would return a lot sooner,' she pondered with slight guilt over the stress she had put him through during the last few months.

Stopping in front of a shelf that used to contain a picture of House and her, it was the first thing she noticed of hers that was missing. Even after they broke up she couldn't bring herself to move it, but now it seemed to have vanished in her absence. She methodically ran her finger over the empty spot where that picture once was, and all that was left in its place was a small amount of dust resting upon her fingertip.

Moving on from the mystery behind the missing photo she walked over to her desk and pulled the chair out, sitting down in it. It felt like years had passed as she stared from the viewpoint she was incredibly akin with, and in the same breath it felt like she had only been gone for a moment. Pulling herself forward to rest her elbows on the desk…her old desk from decades before, she wandered into her own memories, lost in thought, until the slight sound of the door creaking open broke into her reminiscence.

She could tell it was Wilson from the way he moved as he stepped inside, also choosing not to turn on the light.

"Hey." She called softly from her perch behind her desk, causing Wilson to startle immediately, as Cuddy switched on a small light to reveal where she was in the room.

"Yeah…I think I just lost about three years of my life." He said as he gathered himself.

"Sorry." Cuddy offered, "How's Chase?"

Wilson stepped forward and came to stand in front of her. "He has a concussion and needed over thirty stitches in his arm where the glass sliced him, but he should be fine. House noticed that his blood wasn't clotting properly so he's running more tests now, although it's probably nothing." Wilson sighed wearily and sat down in the chair next to him.

"So…how was the date?" He asked inquisitively.

"Great…House planned an amazing evening." Cuddy smiled as the vivid memories of dancing with him played back in her mind.

"He missed you."

"I know…I missed him."

"Good…" Wilson hesitated.

"Good?" Cuddy saw in his face that he wished he could take back his choice of word. "What…did you think I had some ulterior motive in my return?"

"No…that's not what I meant."

"Wilson…" Cuddy leaned forward to see his face better in the dull light.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably before he let out a sigh, "I just…would hate for House to be right."

"About what?"

"About the fact that if he told you what was going on with him, you would rush back to be with him…"

"I didn't come back because of some sort of misguided guilt, if that's what you're implying. "

"I'm not trying to imply anything…it's just…" He hesitated.

"What…just say it. "

"He doesn't need a nurse." Wilson said sincerely, speaking as delicately as possible.

She bit her bottom lip nervously, trying to keep her calm. "I know that."

"Have you told him what you know?"

"No." She whispered.

"Why not?"

"I don't…I'm waiting for the right moment."

He knew instantly she was lying. "No. You're waiting for him to tell you. Am I right?"

"Maybe he will…"

"Cuddy." Wilson made no attempt this time to be delicate as he forced her to confront her ignorance.

"Look-I get it. I will tell him." She looked straight into his eyes. "I just…don't want it to come out wrong…ruin everything. I know how he'll react…"

"Yeah…" Wilson rubbed his face roughly and leaned back against the chair, "Very badly."

"I know…" Cuddy agreed without hesitation, and the thought scared her to death. "I haven't been gone so long that I have forgotten who I'm dealing with. "

"But you have done exactly what he predicted…you found out…and you came home."

"Because I love him. " She felt her personal confession burst out of her before she managed to even her voice once more. "And…I can't lose him again."

Wilson stared at her with an equally forlorn look upon his face, and felt the double-meaning in her spoken words, as if he said them himself. "No matter what you say, or if you finally convince him to do the surgery…we both have to accept the possibility that we…might lose him anyway."

Cuddy felt like she was slapped in the face as Wilson confided his deepest fears out loud, "Don't say that. People beat these kinds of tumors all the time."

"Yes they do…and I hope you can be the one person to finally get through to him…but the longer you wait…it will only make him angrier and more suspicious if he finds out how long you've kept this from him…and he will find out."

Cuddy wiped a fallen tear, and knew she couldn't talk about this anymore, or she would dissolve into a puddle on her office floor. Wilson could sense her turmoil and rose up carefully from his chair, coming over to the desk; he retrieved a file resting under the lighted lamp. "What I originally came in here for." He said quietly and rested his hand upon her shoulder, trying to offer some small amount of comfort after the conversation they just had.

It was in that moment, that they simultaneously heard the door creak further open, and the soft tapping of a cane came wandering inside. Wilson took his hand off Cuddy's shoulder, a guttural reaction to House approaching…a microscopic action that unfortunately did not go unnoticed.

"Am I interrupting?" House said with a hint of accusation as he took in the picture in front of him.

"What…no I was just attempting to coerce Cuddy into coming back to work next week." Wilson thought fast and thought he played it off smooth enough to convince House.

Cuddy followed suit, instantly trying to act as if she were perfectly alright, and not a woman that had been crying moments before. But she knew perfectly well that House truly did know everything there was about her…and he would know, without a doubt, she was hiding something now.

House immediately noticed her failed attempts to recover, even though her eyes held traces of moisture that she could not mask so quickly, and a cold chill ran down his spine as a mountain of realization came crashing down on top of him. Suddenly every single clue that had dropped in front of him over the last couple days fell into his lap like he was solving a patient's illness.

His eyes glazed over as he looked through his two best friends facing him from a small distance away. House saw Cuddy move, pulling him from his trance, to stand up so she was side by side with Wilson. It was then; he finally managed to find his voice, "What are you hiding now?" But it only came out in a mere whisper.

Cuddy heard, but couldn't follow. "What?" She matched his tone.

House stepped forward; his face becoming more prominent under the glow of the single light. "You said that during dinner…'what are you hiding now'." He shook his head, "Why 'now'?"

And with that she knew…she had to come clean. "Wilson could you excuse us please." She asked without facing him, as she stayed linked only with House, not attempting to hide how she felt any longer.

"Why bother," House said in a tone less weak, and finally matching his normal volume, he gestured with his cane pointed momentarily at Wilson, "I'm assuming you're already in this."

"House…don't blame him." She said softly, wanting desperately to come closer to him, but knowing with certainty, that was not the way to approach him…not now. "I figured it out on my own."

"How long?" He stared directly at her, his voice coming out colder than he had intended as he slowly found his soul slipping back behind locked doors.

"I…" Her throat instantly restricted, as the anguish over telling him a very guilty looking truth, stopped her from speaking any further.

House felt his insides crumble as his worst fear was confirmed, "This time…your silence is deafening."

Wilson looked between them both, before stepping carefully towards his friend, but House's voice stopped him, "And I can only assume that you filled in the gaps for her. Seems like the two of you conspiring together hasn't missed a beat since you ran away from your life." He turned back to face Cuddy and made it distinctly clear he was intentionally trying to get to her.

"You have every right to be upset." She spoke timidly, ignoring his biting words.

"Thanks for the permission." House replied with less venom in his tone, his eyes softening a bit; an utter reflex as he connected briefly with her from a small distance away, and it was a reaction in himself that pissed him off all the more.

"House." Wilson cut in, this time coming around the desk...

"You know on second thought, leave. The last thing I need right now is a poor excuse for a mediator." House spoke while barely looking at him. He could barely look in her direction either. The anger from the betrayal he felt from her, hurt far too much; his eyes needing to fixate on anything but the two of them.

"You're right." Wilson said as he approached House's side. "Just…hear her out." He spoke only to him as he passed by and grabbed the door handle, shutting it softly behind him.

House bit back another harmful remark when he finally found the strength to catch her eyes again, her face beckoned back at him in the moonlight; her eyes were unbearably upset. "I saw it in your face yesterday…and I ignored it. The same face you're giving me now." House spoke like he was only talking with himself, shifting his leg uncomfortably as he placed his hand on his upper thigh.

"It's not why I'm here."

"But it's the reason you bought the ticket."

"It was only the final push I needed for something that was absolutely going to happen anyway." Cuddy spoke imploringly with all the sincerity in the world, hoping her words would break through somehow.

"Right because, now that I might be dying, you finally find the strength to be with me again?"

"I decided to be with you again the moment I saw you appear in front of me thousands of miles from home!" Nearly shouting, she took a breath to gather herself, "Honestly I knew I could never be done with you from the moment I received your first letter."

"Then why didn't you stop me from leaving?"

"I…"

"You could have told me not to get on the plane."

"I don't know." She said regrettably, "It just all happened so quickly and I was sick…"

"Or maybe it's because nothing's changed. You will always be looking for me to fail and that's why you were grasping for more time, thinking that a magical remedy would appear out of thin air and change what you truly thought about me." He stared at her aggresively, "And it did….because now that you might only have to deal with me till you turn forty-six or so, you finally have the courage you were searching for to try again." House's words flowed from his mouth without any censorship, every part of him needed to confront her now. His patience for miscommunications had faded drastically the moment he discovered how short his life could possibly be.

Cuddy recoiled as his accusations flew at her, but despite how fiercely his face was boring into her, she felt herself being pulled toward him, regardless of how anxiously fast her heart was pounding in her chest. Her feet tentatively found their way around the desk, her eyes never straying from his face.

House watched her as she approached but didn't make any attempts of moving, then he noticed her hesitate as she came nearer, stopping just a couple feet away. She braved to look directly at him, forcing him to look back, even though he wanted to turn and leave. "That's not true…because…you're not going anywhere."

"Oh so you're going to take the cheerleader approach…would be much more affective if you had the outfit to match." House turned away, having heard enough for one evening, and began to make his way to the door.

"House wait." She moved quickly and came around him, her hand brushed softly against his chest, hoping it would stop him long enough to stay with her. They were facing each other now in near darkness but Cuddy could still see his eyes looking down to her…studying her hand resting against his heart.

"Don't." he whispered, and carefully removed her hand from his body, letting it go by her side.

"Please…don't do this, stay and…and yell at me…anything besides running away."

"Right…I forgot that's your method of dealing with uncomfortable situations." House said pointedly, his anger seeping back in as he remained in his spot facing her.

"I get it okay…your angry, and I am so sorry I didn't just tell you yesterday or call you the moment I figured it out…but…you have to believe that I came back for so much more than confronting your illness."

"Pity and guilt are very different from love."

"I know that. And while I may feel guilty for past mistakes, I certainly don't pity you."

"I'm finding that hard to believe at the moment from the way you're looking at me."

"Maybe because it's easier for you to close yourself off again. Hold onto your own anger because I hurt you." She confided, challenging him to keep communicating.

"You seem to be making a habit out of it."

She sighed deeply, "Why didn't you just tell me? All those letters, I don't understand why you didn't trust-"

"Because you left!" He broke in, backing further away from her.

"Yes and I had every right to leave when I did!" The anger she felt that day seeped back in momentarily before she forced herself to remember what they were really talking about.

"I never denied that."

"No, but all this time you had knowledge that-just maybe that horrible day was impacted not only by your jealousy, but by a tumor that-in all likelihood played a significant part on your lack of judgment…and you thought it best to keep that a secret?"

"I thought it best to find another way back to you."

"And you found it." Her tone softened as she inched closer to him. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"You're here to feebly attempt to be a champion that I don't want or need."

"I don't understand any of this." She gestured with her hands, her face clouded with bewilderment. "You wrote to me…you came to France because you needed to see me…and I know you love me House…" She nearly whispered, "Why would you make all that effort just to throw up your hands and give up? You accused me of only wanting to be with you after finding out how little time we might have left…I could ask you the same."

"I started writing to you the moment I sobered up and realized that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life without you. That was well before I found out I might be dying. Don't turn this around on me."

"I'm not trying to turn this around. I just wish you would recognize that we are both on the same page. I started listening to my heart well before I ever knew about your illness. You have to trust me."

"You see the irony here is that I have always trusted you-"

"Than hold onto that and look at me." Cuddy bridged the gap between then and reached out for his arms, trapping him in her grasp. Her touch was gentle but her voice was full of desperation. "You claim to know everything there is to know about me, and you were right! Don't you see that I'm telling the truth now?" Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment she saw his face relax from her touch, his eyes focused on hers, she could feel his warm breath on her face, as her eyes pleaded with him to forgive her…believe her…

But it was too much. House shook his head and closed his eyes, needing to break free of her hold on him, needing to think, to analyze; to process the drastic turn of events the night had taken. His thigh muscle was oozing pain, and his heart felt like it had been crushed into millions of pieces; both sensations were unbearable and something he spent most of the last fifteen years numbing to the brink of nothingness. What she was asking was all too soon for him to give; he opened his eyes to her…he could feel her fingers run down his arm and her hand find his.

As soon as he felt her fingertips touch his skin he knew he needed an escape, "I can't do this now." His tone was icy but his heart broke even further when he forced himself to unravel from her touch.

"What do you mean?" She said shakily, but fought the urge to reconnect with him, hold on to him.

"I mean just that." He stated simply, his hand already reaching for the door. "I'm taking a page from your book…I need time."

Cuddy wiped the tears from her cheek and grasped desperately for air to stop herself from crying any further. "If that's what you need-"

"It's what I need." He responded quickly and tore his eyes from hers, not bearing to look at the expression on her face for a moment longer…

And with a soft turn of the handle…he left her alone.

She stood frozen in her spot for what felt like hours, her mind was racing with anything she could have said or done differently, anything that could have made the outcome different…made him believe her.

But for tonight…it was all too late, and she let him walk away.

Wilson exited the elevator just as he saw the back of his friends head leaving through the sliding doors, alone. He turned his head towards the place he retreated from and began to make his way towards his office door.

He found her standing in the middle of the room, only one small light still remained on; her eyes were fixated to a spot on the floor, seemingly oblivious to everything besides her inner thoughts.

"Cuddy?" He called softly, as he approached her.

Her head adjusted, looking through him at first before she started to gather her senses and focus on her surroundings again.

"Hi." She croaked.

"Went that good, huh?" He asked gently, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah."

"What did he say?"

"I…" She shook her head, "He said he needed time."

Wilson sighed and put a finger under her chin as he watched her start to retreat her focus back to an unmarked spot on the floor. Her eyes glistened with fresh tears as she managed to face him, and he pulled her into a hug, comforting her the best way he knew how, before he pulled away gently and found her eyes. "He will come around."

She nodded mechanically and attempted a small smile to ease his worried face. "Well this was not the ending to our date I was hoping for."

"Isn't that the allure of dating House…his unpredictability?" He quipped slightly, trying to ease her tension.

"I suppose so." She replied with sheer exhaustion, as she crossed the room to grab her coat and purse from the couch.

"Need a ride?"

"Seems that way." Cuddy gingerly put her arms through her coat and tied the belt loosely around her waist.

Wilson walked behind the desk and switched off the lamp, coming back around he grabbed a hold of the door handle, "Come on." He spoke tenderly.

She took a moment and looked around her former office in the darkness, before she obliged, and followed Wilson towards the hospital exit.

House's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he ignored it instinctually before he remembered Foreman was running the tests on Chase that House had told him too. He placed his cane against the wall by his front door to his apartment, and reached for his cell.

'He's anemic, all other tests were normal.' A short text was staring back at him, and for the first time in the last hour, he was grateful that something had gone right.

Shutting off his phone completely he reached immediately for the scotch resting on top of his piano, not bothering to pour it in a glass as he took a strong swig from the bottle instead. The drive home was filled with images of vicodin. His go to vice, his crutch…but somehow he felt stronger than the urge, so he chose alcohol, another vice of his with less of a hold on his soul.

Taking another long sip he placed the scotch back on top of his piano and sat down. His fingers instantly ran over the ivory keys, grazing them, but only lightly, as he tried with all his strength to get the image of her out of his head.

He was angry at his stupidity for not realizing why she showed up the way she did. Appearing on his office doorstep without any warning. He should have known then that her driving force to come back to him was based out of fear, based on guilt, based on her penchant to mother and not solely based on her feelings for him.

He shook his head as the fears that she would never truly love him in a way that would allow their relationship to sustain anything real, clutched onto his heart…

His eyes welling with tears as his fingers began to play…pouring everything he had inside him into the notes he so freely could create without even thinking.

But the only image he could see distinctly through the absolute muddle his mind was trapped inside, was the image of her…an image he knew without a doubt, he would never be able to break free from…

…but for tonight, all he wanted was to be left alone.