A/N: Brief update as a Sunday morning insomnia special. Thanks for all the reviews.

(H/C)

Cuddy continued holding her husband for a few minutes even after she was sure he was out, just watching him. The relief was overwhelming. They had survived today, and he had finally broken down and let himself cry. In the final wrap-up, today hadn't just been endurance but progress. She smiled, remembering his expression before he fell asleep. Even exhausted and drugged on top of that, he was still obviously trying to run some mental differential. Probably on Thomas. But to the end, House refused to stop thinking. She wondered what his dreams must be like, not the nightmares, but simply everyday dreams. He probably solved medical mysteries or built pyramids or something even in sleep.

Thinking of Thomas, she reached for her cell phone. Patterson was in line, too, but Patterson was expecting a post-funeral call tonight once House was asleep and would wait. Cuddy wanted to catch Thomas before he went to bed. He had to be exhausted himself from this day, and he was 75, after all. She dialed.

He answered promptly, not sounding sleepy at all. "Hi, Lisa."

"Hi, Thomas. I just wanted to thank you again for setting up today. Thank you so much. We never could have survived all this without you." She had been so busy the last few days simply dealing with House and the girls that she couldn't see how she might have fit in making arrangements as well. It would have all been too much.

He actually sounded annoyed. "I didn't go check the cemetery, though. I should have thought of that."

That annoyed-at-himself-for-missing-something tone was one she'd heard a few times before. "You did question the grave site, and we're the ones who told you to put her next to John. The grave is on us, Thomas, not you. Nobody could have expected you to go do a personal inspection."

He dodged away, obviously not convinced and not wanting to debate it with her. "Is Greg asleep?"

"Yes." She ran a hand lovingly along her husband's face. The stress lines and the pain lines were both smoothed out somewhat now. "We might be a little later down to breakfast tomorrow morning."

"That's fine with me. I'm glad he took something stronger. I could tell how much pain he was in by the end of the movie."

"He'd missed some of his regular meds today because he has to take them with food, and he wasn't eating enough. That plus the tension with the funeral all built up." She studied House, thinking. "Nothing is actually scheduled for tomorrow. He's got those doctor appointments Wednesday to talk about Blythe. Maybe tomorrow, after breakfast, we could all do something together. That's up to him, of course. But he's incapable of doing nothing for a day, and you're right here available. He's interested in you."

"I'd like that. Don't worry, though; I won't mention the possibility to him. Let him come to it." He hesitated, then said, "I'm sure Greg has a top quality piano at home."

"Yes, of course he does. It's a baby grand, and it's his pride and joy. A year ago when we had guests at Thanksgiving from my parents' family, he went ballistic when one of them just sat down and started picking out a tune very badly. He thought touching it was grounds for justifiable homicide." Thomas chuckled, picturing it. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering the other day about the piano. The old one he started on, I mean. It's still in Blythe's house; at least it was last time I visited."

She smiled. "You want it."

"Yes. I just wanted to bounce the idea off you first. Obviously, I'll have to pick the right time to ask him, but do you think there's any chance at all? I don't want to join the line for victims of justifiable homicide."

She laughed. "I think it's a neat idea. Yes, I believe you'd have a chance. Of course, he'll probably mock you for wanting it since you aren't musical. But in the end, I think he'd agree. We sure don't need another one, and the one he has now is better. We're going to have to do something eventually with that house, getting it cleared out to sell, but I'm glad there's no rush on that. It all has to go through probate first. We need to find Blythe's lawyer and figure out where things stand; I'll probably do that myself by phone next week. Greg gave me her address book, but it's. . . unique. Finding the lawyer out of that will be like a scavenger hunt."

"When the time comes, I'd be glad to help with clearing the house out and with arrangements for selling it," Thomas offered.

"Don't let yourself get into overvolunteering on things," she advised. "If he reads that in you, he'll take advantage of it."

"I don't plan to be a total pushover; he wouldn't respect that anyway. But I know the house will be tough. It's probably John's house to him, even if he never lived there himself and nothing ever happened there."

"I know he thinks of it that way. He's only entered it once, back when Blythe was in the hospital a few years ago after an accident. You've been there several times, right?"

"Yes, visiting John and Blythe. Not too often, but I kept dropping by briefly every few years even after they retired there. Would have been too suspicious to drop out of their lives totally after Greg left, and besides, it was a small link to him."

"I was too focused on him that one visit to notice much, and it was short. Do you remember anything else in there that we might actually want? All I remember is pictures. I'd like some of those."

"Lots of pictures. Keep in mind, my mental image is about three years old. I went over there a few days ago just to met the neighbors, but I never went in. The outside had definitely changed since John's death, and she might have added things inside, too. But the furniture was basic. Comfortable but not heirlooms. I don't remember anything that screamed family treasure to me. If I wind up sorting through it for you eventually, I'd be careful, but of course, it would be better if he did a walk-through himself. I hate to suggest that immediately after his mother's funeral, though."

"No," she said quickly. "No on you suggesting it, I mean. I might ask Jensen's opinion if I get a chance tomorrow, but the timing seems a little pushed to me, too. The house isn't urgent." She looked at her watch, thinking of Patterson waiting. "I'd better let you go. It's been a long day, and I'm sure you're as tired as I am."

"It has been a long day," he agreed, but the annoyance was back underlying his voice.

"That stone wasn't your fault, Thomas," she repeated. "Besides, you made up for it later. That first-draft drawing of a new tombstone is priceless. Even if that one won't wind up at the grave, I'm sure Greg will keep it and get a lot of satisfaction out of it. I hadn't thought of changing the stone." She had been too focused on her husband, even though the stone had angered her. "You surprised me tonight. You've got a sneaky streak in you."

"I'll have to plead guilty to that. It's useful sometimes." She laughed. "Good night, Lisa. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Thomas." She hung up and spent another few minutes dissecting that conversation, comparing and contrasting. She was sure she was safe on her bet if House decided to take her up on it. She got out of bed, went into the bathroom, and picked up the clothes on the floor while she was there. Coming back, she gave her husband another kiss and then called Patterson.