A/N: Many thanks to allthingsdecent and Cherokee Jedi!

Tuesday was therapy day for House. Every Tuesday he'd wake up early and cook himself a hearty breakfast then travel by motorcycle to Philadelphia to see Nolan. After his therapy session he'd make the one and a half hour drive back to Princeton for the weekly visit with his physical therapists who would work with him on a variety of exercises and ending with a number of laps in the indoor pool and an intense massage. While House had a standing appointment every Tuesday with his physical therapy team, he sometimes returned two or three times a week when he had time for additional swimming and massages because both seemed to help quite a bit. At first House was hesitant to combine his Tuesday therapy sessions into one day but Nolan suggested it might be good for him and it turned out the shrink was right. Therapy with Nolan could sometimes be intense and during the grueling physical therapy he was able to take his mind off the pain by focusing his thoughts on what he and Nolan had discussed in their earlier session. It worked every time because before he knew it, the painful physical therapy session was over. Since therapy took up most of his day, when he returned home, House liked to wind down by playing the piano, that is, if he didn't have a case he needed to tend to at the hospital.

When House had entered his office a half hour ago, Nolan could tell something was bothering him. They began the session discussing House's physical therapy and things relating to the hospital but they didn't talk about anything personal. House became quiet as he sat in the comfortable recliner while Nolan sat across from him, legs crossed in a chair, looking at House intently but not wanting to push him. Nolan knew House well enough to know he would reveal himself when he was ready.

"Greg, your message the other night sounded pretty desperate; I'm sorry I wasn't able to call you back as I was out of town. Do you want to talk about it now?"

House sighed, closed his eyes and just lay back in the recliner.

"Something's obviously bothering you, it won't help keeping it inside."

"You know I'm not good at this baring your soul crap."

"Yes I know that, but you know that keeping things inside has nothing but negative consequences for you. You have to let it out."

"I took your advice."

Nolan laughed. "Which advice?"

"You told me to write, so I did."

"Good for you."

"Well, that remains to be seen."

"What do you mean?"

House leaned forward in the recliner and put his head in his hands. Nearly inaudible, he said, "I wrote a letter to Cuddy."

Nolan sat up straight, pondering this surprise revelation. House's face was still buried in his hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Suddenly and without warning, House removed his hands from his face and banged them on the arms of his chair and yelled "Of course I want to talk about it! Why the hell do you think I'm here?"

House got up and started pacing Nolan's office. Nolan kept quiet and let House have his space. Finally House spoke again.

"She hates me. She has a right to hate me. I'm a sorry son of a bitch. If she hadn't left that room I could have hurt her or worse, I could have killed her." House sighed and leaned forward against the sill of the large picture window in Nolan's office which overlooked an expansive well-manicured lawn. He looked out expressionless.

"Greg, we've never talked about what made you drive into Dr. Cuddy's home. Don't you think maybe we ought to talk about it?"

"I wrote a letter to my ex-girlfriend who I could have killed and you want to talk about what happened that day?"

"Greg, it's pertinent. You're scared of sending it because you're scared of her reaction. I know how you feel about her. How can you expect her to understand what you were feeling that day if you don't understand it yourself?"

"I don't like thinking about it."

"I know. But you're going to have to talk about it if you want to move on."

"Damnit how can I move on? I can't think about moving on. I don't deserve to move on. "

"Why don't you deserve to move on? Don't you deserve to have a life? To be happy?"

"Are you serious? Happiness is overrated, look where the hell it got me. I ruined a relationship with a woman I've known and loved half my life. There's no point in trying anymore. Wilson was right."

"What did Dr. Wilson say?"

House was still haunted by Wilson's words from a few years back. "He told me I was scared to get into a relationship with Cuddy because if I couldn't make it work with her I couldn't make it work with anyone."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yeah I believe it. Cuddy was the last best thing I had in my life."

"You think that now but you don't mean it."

House was angry. "Of course I mean it! I don't want anyone else." He sighed, looked down at the floor and his shoulders slumped. "She was the only one who really got me. She excited me, she made me feel alive. I can't feel that anymore. I don't even know how. I don't even know if I want to..."

Nolan sat quietly just listening to House.

"I don't know what to do. She was a part of my life for so long. She was my conscience, she challenged me, and she was the only woman who didn't put up with my bullshit. She called me on it every time and she knew me better than I knew myself. For the life of me, I can't seem to understand why I did what I did to her. Why couldn't I be there for her when she was sick? Why did I crash my car into her house?"

"Greg something in you snapped that day, what was it?"

House just stood there continuing to stare out the window of Nolan's office. It was a very dark, miserable, rainy day and there was no chance of going anywhere yet. It was either talk or be stuck looking at Nolan's face until their time was up. Either way he was going to have to pay for the session so he might as well make good use of the time.

"I was angry."

"I know you were. But angry at who? And why?"

"Cuddy, me, my dad, Wilson, everybody, nobody…I have no fucking idea. I was just pissed off at the whole damn world. I just wanted to stop the pain, I just wanted to feel good again…feel like I finally had something meaningful, like I did….when I was with her. I tried so hard to be the guy I knew she wanted me to be. I tried to show her I loved her as often as I could. I watched her kid, cooked for her, I did little things for her…I thought they meant something. I thought she didn't want me to change. I'm not good at relationships; I don't know how to open up. She was okay with that. At least she said she was but she started getting pissy about the little things and then she dumped me. I know it's not her fault but in the end I don't know if she even knew what the hell she wanted."

Nolan just urged him on. "Please continue."

House took a deep breath. His thoughts and feelings were not organized; he was just saying what came to mind. "I hadn't planned to see her that afternoon. Wilson wanted to take me to a bar to get drunk and I used that as an excuse to see her. We stopped at her house so I could bring her the hairbrush she wanted back. I used it as an excuse to see her, be near her. I'd hoped just for a few moments alone with her, maybe we could talk. I really wanted to see her smile again…it had been so long. I looked in the window and she was smiling…at this guy, I didn't know who he was, I just knew she seemed happy and I….I felt like shit. Since the moment she broke up with me I'd felt like shit. I did all kinds of shit to fuck up my life after the breakup and while I wallowed in self-pity, there she was smiling. She'd told me she wasn't seeing anyone. All I could think of was how I couldn't move on without her and there she was moving on without me."

House kept looking out the window. "That should have been me in there, not him."

"So you were jealous?"

"No. I don't think so. I don't know. I think I was upset that…that…" House looked down at his cane almost as if he were ashamed. His eyes were glassy.

"Go on Greg, this is important."

"All I know is that I loved her. I think I might have even cut off my right leg if I thought it might help us…our relationship. At that moment when I saw her…I felt like someone ripped my insides out."

They were quiet for a few moments while Nolan allowed House time to regroup.

"Greg, did you mail the letter to Cuddy?"

"Not yet."

"I can't tell you what to do but if you want to begin to heal maybe you should send it."

House remained quiet. He leaned on his cane as he stared at the floor.

"Greg, do you feel you were in your right mind that day?"

"I have no idea what mind I was in. I just know I was sad, angry, depressed and hurt. I didn't want to live anymore, I wanted to die. That's how I felt when she broke up with me, it's how I felt the day I crashed my car… into her house."

Nolan was listening intently. It wasn't often he could get this much out of House, he didn't want to push him too far but he wanted to get House to talk a little more.

"Greg, why did you turn the car around that day? Why didn't you keep driving?"

House gripped his cane tight it turned his knuckles white. "I was so pissed off. I was just so pissed. I could have cared less if I ran my car off a bridge. I just didn't care. And before you ask me if I wanted to hurt Cuddy…hell no, I'd kill myself first. I'd never…." He drifted off, staring into space, not finishing his sentence.

"Greg?"

"Isn't our time up yet? Don't you have someone else waiting to be saved?"

"We've got a few minutes left. How about we change the subject?"

"Fine."

"How's the anger management going?"

"Seriously? This is how you change the subject?"

"Greg?"

"It's fine."

"Have you figured out why you're angry?"

"Gee, that's an opening you could drive a truck through. Let's see, my daddy didn't love me, my mother didn't hug me enough, and I can't have normal relationships, what the hell do you think?"

"I've known you long enough to know you harbor resentment. You're still angry about your leg and you're angry at your father."

House looked at his watch and rolled his eyes. "Am I paying for this rehashing of the obvious?"

"Greg, do you harbor resentment at Dr. Cuddy for the role she played in your disability?"

"She was just doing her job."

Nolan just stared at him waiting for a real answer.

"Ok fine, I forgave her for that a long time ago. Cuddy comes from a long line of guilt-ridden Jews, I felt it was time to let her have some peace on that issue."

"How about your father?"

"He had nothing to do with my leg."

"You know what I mean. Are you still angry at John House for the way he treated you?"

"Kind of hard to be mad at a dead person."

"We can keep talking in circles here or we can just get to the point. Are you still angry over the way your father—"

"He wasn't my father!" House interjected.

"Fine. Are you angry over how the man who raised you treated you?"

"You could say that."

"Are you angry at your mother for not protecting you?"

"Oh God I knew this was going to come back to my mother."

"Greg, I believe that a lot of your issues can be traced to your childhood. Your inability to open up, to have normal healthy adult relationships can be traced back to the relationships you had as a child. At some point we should talk about it."

House seemed on the verge of defeat then looked at his watch. "Oh gee doc wouldn't you know it? Our time is up. And I was so getting into this conversation. Sorry but I gotta run."

"Okay but we will continue this next time. I'm proud of you. You are making progress."

"Yeah, yeah, same time next week oh wise one?"

As House opened the door, Nolan placed a hand on his arm and stopped him. "Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to mail the letter?"

"You'll have to tune in next Tuesday and find out." And with that he left.