A/N: Here's another chapter for you! We're moving right along at what I believe is a reasonable pace. Remember, these are two very complex and dysfunctional people. They carry a lot of emotional baggage which got in the way of their relationship the first time around. In order to make it work again, they're going to have to realize some things about themselves and each other.

House awoke around eleven o'clock Sunday morning a bit tired and hung over. Hey lay there for fifteen minutes thinking about the events of the night before. He lost a patient. He was usually the last hope for the majority of his patients and so he took it very personally when a patient died because he saw it as a direct reflection on his abilities.

He maneuvered himself to a sitting position with his feet on the floor as he vigorously rubbed his right thigh. The pain was always bad after waking and on days he didn't have to work he liked to start the day with a long hot bath which soothed his leg and the rest of his aching muscles. As he entered the bathroom he noticed a note on his mirror from Wilson letting him know he and Blythe had gone to brunch at Winberie's and would be back in the early afternoon. House enjoyed having his mother stay with him but this morning he welcomed the privacy. He wondered if that's why Wilson took her to brunch. He reminded himself to thank his friend later.

Once the tub was filled, House stripped and lowered himself into it. The hot water felt good on his entire body. He didn't bring his phone, medical journals or anything else with him. All he wanted to do was sit back and relax. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall and let the hot water soothe him. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

"House?"

"In here."

Cuddy found him in her bathroom, in the huge Jacuzzi tub. The water was so hot she could see the steam rising up from it.

"House that water is too hot"

"No it's not. Besides it's good for my leg. Why don't you join me?"

"I can't. Rachel will be up soon."

"It's early yet; she was up late last night with us. She'll be fine. Get your rotund ass into the tub with me woman."

She smiled. "House as much as I would love to—"

He interrupted her, "We've hardly seen each other all week, come on, just bring the baby monitor in here. Please?"

Cuddy had a soft spot when House said please and used his cute pouty face. "Alright, I'll be right back."

She grabbed the baby monitor from the living room and went back into the bathroom to join House. She began taking off her clothes and noticed how he was watching her every move. She slowed her movements, putting on a show for him. He never said a word while she slowly peeled off her tank top and yoga pants, then her sports bra and finally her panties. Leaving them in a heap on the floor, she walked seductively over to the tub and climbed in with him. He helped her rest between his legs as she leaned her back up against his chest. The water was a bit hot, but it was soothing. She leaned back against him with his arms around her.

"Oh my, this is nice."

"Yes it is."

He ran his hands up and down her arms, massaged her neck, and caressed her breasts. Every now and then he would place gentle kisses along her neck. He loved holding her and took every opportunity to do it because he wasn't sure how long they would last. He wanted to always remember how it felt to hold her in his arms that way. They stayed like that for nearly thirty minutes and they were so relaxed they nearly fell asleep. Suddenly, they heard a noise over the baby monitor. It was Rachel calling for her mother. Cuddy sighed and House held her tighter but eventually relented knowing she had to tend to Rachel. She was getting ready to leave the bathroom when she turned back to House. She kneeled next to the tub, placed her hands on either side of his face and claimed his lips in a passionate kiss. When they broke apart she leaned close to his left ear and whispered "thank you" before leaving to tend to Rachel. House just smiled as she walked away in a short bath towel and a swing in her hips purely for his enjoyment.

House woke suddenly and realized the water had become lukewarm and his ass hurt from sitting so long. He thought about the memory he'd just had. It made him smile for a moment then he frowned remembering the reality of his current situation. He got out of the tub, dried and dressed in jeans, tee shirt, and socks, took his medication and made his way into the living room. His leg didn't hurt so much at the moment and for that he was thankful.

On the way into the living room he smelled coffee. In the kitchen he found that his mother had not only prepared a pot of coffee for him but she had tidied up the kitchen and the living room as well. House smiled, thinking about how some things never change. He knew his mother was trying not to smother him but at the same time she enjoyed doing little things for him knowing he appreciated the effort.

He poured a mug of coffee and went into the living room. He picked up his phone from where he'd left it by the door and planted himself on the couch. He flipped open the phone and called Chase to find out the autopsy results on the deceased patient.

Wilson and Blythe were deep into conversation at Winberie's. They had lots to catch up on including Wilson's cases, his failed relationship with Sam and the few women he'd dated since. They had successfully avoided the subject of House as Blythe was intent on maintaining her son's privacy and Wilson did not want to jeopardize House's trust. However, after discussing a number of subjects, both eventually became quiet, enjoying one other's company. Eventually the subject turned to House.

"So how have things been between you two?" Wilson asked.

"We're actually getting along quite nicely; it's a breath of fresh air James."

"That's good. I think—no I know your visit has been good for him. He's needed it for quite some time; he just would never admit it."

"He's my son, I love him, even with all the insane things he does."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I won't divulge Greg's confidence if I can help it but I should have known you and I would not be able to have a conversation without discussing him." She smiled.

"When he was a kid what was he like? He used to tell Cuddy and me bits and pieces but we always wondered if he was being sarcastic or if he was really telling the truth," he replied.

Blythe smiled with a reminiscent look in her eye. "Believe it or not, Greg was a good child. He was a mixture of everything under the sun. He was kind, quiet, rambunctious, shy, curious, studious, mischievous, athletic and energetic. The one thing he wasn't was troublesome. I never remember a time when Greg misbehaved and caused trouble. His curiosity would sometimes get him into trouble but it was just merely things boys do, nothing out of the ordinary."

Wilson laughed and said, "I wonder how he went from that kid to who he is now."

"Greg has always been a very complex person. Some things never change like his moodiness. There were times his mood would change at the drop of a hat. There was nothing psychologically wrong with him, it's just the way he was. When he was upset about something or trying to solve a problem he would become very quiet and deep in thought, he did not like to be bothered, so I learned when to give him space when he needed it."

"That definitely hasn't changed. There are so many sides to him that I've often asked myself who the real House is."

"The only answer I can give you is that what you see is the real Greg. He's all of what you see and what you don't see. He is a rare mixture of so many things; I can't even begin to define it. It's a part of what makes him special. I've always believed that."

"I've seen nearly all sides of him. One day I think I have him figured out and the next I don't. He's a mystery wrapped in an enigma," Wilson told her, chuckling.

"I agree. James, I really appreciate you being such a good friend to Greg, I can't tell you how much it means to me and you know what it means to him. I don't know what he would have done without you."

"I appreciate that Blythe but you should know that there were times I wasn't such a good friend. There were times I was selfish and turned my back on him while I was looking out for my own interests."

"James, you do not have to apologize. You have your own life to live too and Greg can be a handful, I know that. I know he requires a lot from you but you can't be his caretaker. He needs to understand that, he needs to be able to take care of himself. I believe in time he will."

"He's come a long way, he's seeing his therapist regularly and he's doing his physical therapy and he's talking more. He's still got a long way to go but I don't feel like he's as high maintenance as he used to be. I used to worry about him all the time, now I feel like I can back off a bit. Besides, I am the last person who should be giving advice at times. I have had my own share of crap."

"We've all had our own share of crap dear, that never ends, but how we handle it is what makes the difference," she said while patting his hand.

Sometime later, Wilson dropped Blythe off at House's apartment. She found him sitting on the couch with his legs up on the coffee table staring at the television but not really paying attention to it.

"Hello Greg, I brought you something to eats" she said as she placed the carry-out box on the table in front of him. "It's your favorite, buttermilk pancakes, and blueberry syrup with sausage links and in case you aren't in the mood for breakfast there's a Ruben in there too.

"Thanks mom, not really hungry," he said, still staring at the television.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Do you think I need to?"

"Don't be a smartass, I'm just concerned after last night."

"I'm fine."

"Okay, you're the boss."

Blythe moved into the kitchen where she placed the food in the refrigerator. She poured herself a cup of coffee and went back into the living room and sat down. She picked up a magazine and flipped through it, glancing over at her son every now and then.

Finally, House turned off the television, let out a big sigh and looked at his mother. "I know you have something to say, now say it."

"I didn't say anything."

"I know you. You say you don't but you want to."

She put down her magazine and looked directly at him, "Gregory House, I told you when I arrived here-"

He cut her off before she could finish, "But you didn't actually mean it."

"The hell I didn't!" she exclaimed and her tone surprised House.

Blythe stood up from her chair and walked over to where he sat on the couch. She stood before him, hands on hips and he knew a lecture was coming.

"I know there's something on your mind and admit I do want to know but I made a promise to myself and to you that I would not push you." She threw her hands up in the air and continued. "You can be so frustrating at times. I love you to death but sometimes you drive me crazy."

House rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew there was no way out of this. Sooner or later he would be forced to talk to her and he knew she didn't have to say anything to get him to talk; all she had to do was just sit there and remain quiet and he'd cave. He had a feeling he couldn't hide much from his mother these days, she was just that good. He'd often thought he'd inherited his manipulative ways from his father but now he realized he'd been wrong.

"I failed her," he said out of the blue.

"What?"

"I failed."

"Greg…"

"Come on mom; don't tell me you don't know the patient died last night. I was checking my cell phone and found Wilson's number. He called you last night didn't he?"

"Yes he did. Actually he called for you, he wanted to check and see how you were handling things."

House let out a chuckle. "Good old Wilson, you can't get anything past him."

"He just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I know."

"Why do you think you failed?"

House put his hands over his face and rubbed the three-day scruff. "The patient was sick for weeks. She went to another hospital three times and each time they dismissed her symptoms. Finally her husband brought her to us because of me, because he knew I could save her. And I didn't. I let her die."

"You did no such thing."

"Yes, I did. It's not the first time either." House recalled in his mind the few patients he'd lost over the last few years. He didn't discuss them but their deaths were painful for him.

"Greg you do everything you can for your patients. I've heard the stories, you stop at nothing to diagnose them. I am sure tried everything within your power to save her."

House was becoming irritated. He didn't want pity or acceptance. He also did not want to argue with his mother right now.

"Well?"

"Trying just isn't enough!" He yelled as he stood from the couch, his bad leg took the brunt of the weight at that moment and he winced in pain but held himself steady. He hadn't meant to raise his voice to his mother but the more he thought about the patient he lost, the angrier he became.

"If you could go back and do it all over what would you do differently?" Blythe asked.

House paced the living room with his cane, walking helped the pain in his leg as he tried to come up with a reasonable response. "I could have ordered more tests or pushed the team to do something different. Instead of taking a nap I could have been looking over her file again, trying to find something I missed."

"Greg.." Her voice was softer now. "I know you, you're one stubborn son of a bitch, and I know for a fact you did everything you could."

"And yet she died." She could see the pain in his eyes.

"Yes, she did." Blythe sighed sadly.

They were quiet for a few minutes as House had run out of things to say and Blythe was being careful not to push him too far. House finally sat at the piano, it seemed to be a place he felt comfortable when he opened up. He didn't play; he just sat there, brushing his hands across the top to get rid of a little dust he found there.

"She had an eight year old daughter. She begged me not to let her die."

"Oh Greg."

"Part of me knows it was not my fault and then part of me keeps thinking I should have done better. Why do I feel like a failure?"

"You shouldn't."

"I do and hey wallowing in self-pity over it is one of the things I seem to do best," He said with a sadness in his voice.

Blythe watched her son. At that moment he seemed so vulnerable. She wanted to tread carefully. She remained on the couch, not looking at him, just looking at her hands clasped in her lap. Blythe took a deep breath and told him, "Greg if you feel like a failure part of that is my fault."

House's mouth dropped open, he looked at his mother.

She continued, "Your father...instilled in you this idea that failure is not an option." She looked up and threw her hands in the air and asked, "What the hell does that mean anyway? Failure is not an option! Is that supposed to mean everything in life has to be a success? That's impossible. We're only human!"

House just stared at his mother. She continued, "You've got it ingrained in thick head of yours that not succeeding at something means you failed."

"Well doesn't it?"

"No Greg, it just means you didn't succeed."

House had to admit it made sense but it was just not something he could accept easily.

"You have lived like this for years and now it's time to put it to rest."

House opened his mouth to speak but his mother would have no part of it.

"When you were a little boy, you were so curious. You wanted to know how everything worked. I remember a time, I don't even think you were three years old yet. You were in the backyard on your hands and knees watching ants and asking what they were doing and why. I remember explaining to you what they were doing. You wanted to read a book on it but you were so young you couldn't read yet. I checked out a book from the library and read to you all about ants. Next thing I know you picked up the book and started learning to read. You began sounding out the words, not giving up until you'd formed the words. I helped you but you insisted on doing it yourself. From that moment on you seemed unstoppable. You never stopped reading, learning and asking questions. I knew at that moment you were different from the other kids, there was something special about you."

House was intrigued by his mother at the moment.

"As you got older asked more questions, you drove your father crazy. He thought you were doing it not out of curiosity but because you were questioning authority. When you found the answers to things he didn't know, he thought you were being a smartass. He told me I was spoiling you by encouraging you to read certain books, learn science, play piano, and learn languages. He kept asking me what good all that would do. I told him someday it would come in handy. I didn't know what you would wind up doing with your life but I knew those things would never fail you. Your father and I had many fights about how to raise you. He was adamant about using methods which were used on him when he was a child while I thought my way was better."

Blythe hesitated a few moments to catch her breath. House could tell that this was emotionally exhausting for her.

"I think he resented you for being so intelligent and so good at so many different things. You succeeded at so many things, sometimes with such little effort, it was amazing. Also, you had a much better childhood than he did. You had opportunities he never had. Your father was a smart man but in different ways than you. He was the kind of man you could leave stranded in the middle of nowhere with not a soul for hundreds of miles. You could strip him of every piece of clothing and all necessities and he would survive it just fine because he was tough. Your father was a warrior, he knew how to fight, he knew discipline, and he believed in very strict rules and order. It made him a great Marine but sadly not a great father."

House finally spoke up, afraid of where this conversation might be headed. "Listen mom we don't have to discuss dad."

"Yes we do. At least let me just say this. You picked up a few of your father's worst traits and I think you know that already so this comes as no surprise. Like him, you see life in black and white, you punish yourself for not always being right, you are hard on yourself and too hard on others. You think that showing emotion and compassion makes you weak and finally…" she hesitated a moment before finishing, "you never feel that you are worthy of the life you have or the love and devotion of the people who care about you."

House didn't know what to say. His voice cracked as he spoke to her. "So what am I supposed to do? I can't change."

"That's a load of crap Gregory House and you know it."

"People don't change."

"People do change."

"Dad never changed."

Blythe sighed. There were lots of things her son didn't know about his father. "Dammit Greg, your father is dead, it's too late for him but it's not too late for you. The question is do you want a better life for yourself or do you want to be miserable?"

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple. For someone who sees life in terms of black and white I thought surely you would understand that."

Blythe walked over to the piano and leaned over it looking at him. "Your father and I raised you and we bear responsibility many of the attitudes you have about life but in the end how you live your life is your responsibility and yours alone."

"I'm aware of that. I do just fine on my own thanks."

"If you say so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"For a brilliant man you sure are dense at times."

House looked down, not wanting to look into his mother's eyes, knowing she spoke the truth.

"Greg, you are lonely and miserable. I see it in your eyes, I hear it in your voice, and I see it in the way you move. I know you are in pain and God I wish I could take it away. I would give my own life if it would take away your pain. You get one life to live that's it, one life. I don't want you to waste it being unhappy. "

"I'm not unhappy."

"Yes. You are."

"I accept life for what it is. I'm a realist."

"Greg" she said softly. "I am so sorry for all the terrible things you have endured in your life, believe me, as a parent, there is nothing I wouldn't do to take away your pain. But son, you are still alive, please do not let life's roadblocks stop you from living, and I mean really living. I know you don't believe in God but I do and I was blessed with just one child and that is you. I have watched you live your life in misery for too long. I want you to live, laugh and love."

"That's so cliche."

"It's how I feel."

"Really you don't have to worry about me, I do just fine. I earn a hefty paycheck, everything I own is paid for, I've got money in the bank, I'm tenured, world-renowned, and hey I've got at least one friend," he mused.

Blythe laughed. "If only that were all it took to be happy in life."

"With the exception of you and Wilson I've pushed away everyone who cares about me. Happiness is a pipe dream when you're in pain."

"You've never talked about the extent of your pain and I've tried not to ask but I would like you to share it with me."

House hesitated. He was in unchartered territory and opening up in ways he never had with his mother. Letting her in could cause her to worry more about him and that was an added stress he did not need. However, he took a chance because the words just began flowing.

"In the old days I'd take three Vicodin in the morning just to be able to get dressed and get to work, and then I'd take two or three in the afternoon to keep going and then the same amount at night so I could sleep. Then there's what I took in between. I could go through one month's supply in a week easily. I used to hoard it in secret stashes so I'd always have it when I needed it," he said with a slight tone of embarassment in his voice.

Blythe knew he had been addicted but had no idea the extent of her son's Vicodin use. "How is it now? Being off the Vicodin?"

"Physical therapy is helping as you know but I deal with the addiction every day. I want to be out of pain but it's impossible without removing my leg and that is not an option. The pain is much more manageable than it once was but there are moments it hurts so much I can't stand it." House was afraid to look up at his mother because he did not want to see pity in her eyes. But when he looked up he did not see pity, he saw love and respect.

Blythe said to him, "Greg, I appreciate you sharing this with me. I know how hard it is for you to open up and I want you to know I do not pity you. You have come a long way and you have a long way to go but you are making strides. I am very proud of you."

Without thinking he replied, "Change is hard. I really don't know how to live any other way than how I do now."

She walked over to him, put one hand on his shoulder and another mussed his hair. She laughed and said, "Greg, it's about time you learn."

"What do you have in mind?" He asked.

"James told me there's a bowling alley around here," she said smiling, attempting to change the direction of the conversation and lighten the mood. Without giving her son a chance to say no, she said, "I'm going to change my clothes. Why don't you call James and see if he wants to meet us there?" she asked as she moved towards his bedroom to find her luggage.

House found himself actually wanting to get out of the house and so he grabbed his phone and called Wilson.

"Hey, Wilson get your bowling ball and meet us in twenty minutes!" He shouted into the phone.

"House? I'm busy."

"Doing what? Or shall I ask who?"

"I'm doing laundry you ass."

"You're such a girl Wilson. Laundry can wait. Besides my mom wants you to go."

"Bowling? Are you sure you're in the mood?"

"I'm fine. Get your stuff and meet us there. Oh yeah call Chase, I'm going to need a partner."

"What? You don't want to partner with me?"

"Well duh, I want to win."

"You're an ass House."

"Yeah and still you love me."

"That's debatable. I'll call Chase and we'll see you in a bit."

House hung up and smirked to himself. Suddenly the weight of the last hour of intense emotional conversation was lifted from his shoulders. At that moment his mother entered the room.

"Good, you called James. Did I hear you say you needed a partner?"

"Yeah and he's good too."

"We'll see about that," she replied buttoning her sweater.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Yep."

"You do know I'm pretty good," he bragged.

"And you do know who taught you to be that good, don't you?"

"You're old," he snarked.

"You're crippled. That makes us even," she shot back with a chuckle.

"Nice mom!" He just shook his head in amusement as he followed her out the door.

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. More to come as we delve into House and Cuddy and work to help them heal and bring them together. Thank you so much for reading and please leave a comment. I read each and every one and reply to all who are set up to accept replies.