A/N: Normally I update every Friday/Saturday so it's highly unusual but these last three chapters flowed and I wanted to get them out. The story picks up on Saturday morning at Cuddy's house. Remember, it may seem like an eternity but House has only been in Boston since Thursday afternoon!

Thank you Veronique & MystryGAB for their help re: the pain/medical stuff and thanks to GratefulInsomniac who left me this review that had me rolling:

"So, i was sitting in this peaceful, lovely meadow...and this cute, little, fluffy bunny came up to me...and said, look at my little cotton tail, and pretty twitchy nose, and then...it pounced on my chest screaming "ANGST BUNNY!" and gnawed my face off! :-)"

House's heart dropped in his chest and he felt lightheaded. Please, not Cuddy. He swallowed hard.

"Where is she?" He asked Sharon.

"The ER at Mass General."

House hung up the phone and looked over at Rachel. Rachel. What am I going to tell her?

"Rachel, I need you to get dressed, we have to go out."

"What about mommy?"

"We'll see her in a bit but first we have to make a stop. Go get dressed okay?"

"Okay." Rachel bounded off to her room.

House headed back to Cuddy's bedroom and got dressed. He sat on her side of the bed and picked up her pillow and held it to his nose, inhaling her scent. Just a few hours ago everything was good and she was wrapped safely in his arms and now she lay in a hospital. How am I going to do this? He thought. I can do this. I can be there, I want to be there for her.

By the time he made his way back into the living room, Rachel was already dressed in pink shorts and yellow shirt; she even had her shoes on and tied correctly. House called a cab and paid the driver extra to get them to the hospital safely in less than fifteen minutes; they made it there in ten. House limped into the ER with Rachel holding his hand, the little girl was curious as to why they were visiting her mother's workplace. He spotted Sharon at the nurse's station and approached her slowly so as not to alarm Rachel.

"Sharon!" Rachel yelled and ran over to her. Sharon smiled and ran her fingers through Rachel's hair and took her hand.

"What happened?" House asked her in a low voice.

Sharon took a deep breath and spoke quietly. "It happened about thirty minutes ago, near her house. The witnesses said a heavy duty pickup truck ran a light and hit her, causing the car to spin and hit a tree.

"How bad?"

"She's got a grade three concussion, no broken bones or fractures and no bleeding that they can find. She's unconscious right now. It's a miracle House, it really is. That truck hit her in the rear driver's side and when it spun it hit the tree making impact on the passenger's side."

"How did you find out? Were you working?"

"No, actually last month I encouraged Lisa to fill out this emergency information card I found online, you put in contact info, blood type, allergies, and such. She did this for both her and Rachel. I'm her emergency contact so they called me immediately. Thank God they did." She noticed House gripped his cane tightly and she placed her hand on his arm. "She'll be okay House, she was lucky."

Though he was relieved it wasn't worse, House wouldn't relax until he could see for himself she was okay.

"I need to see her."

"I know. She's in room five."

"Can you...watch Rachel for me?" He asked. "Would you call Wilson, too? He's at the conference."

"I've got this...you go," she said patting him on the arm. Before she walked away, she said, "I'll make sure your name is in her file at the nurse's station."

House nodded his thanks and limped into the small cubicle in the ER where Cuddy lay unconscious. His heart fell when he saw her lying in the bed hooked up to monitors. She had cuts on her arms and on her face, most likely from shattered glass, a few bruises on her arms and one on her chin and forehead. He picked up her chart and read it, the physician in him taking over and making sure everything was done right.

He pulled the recliner next to her bed and sat in it, leaning forward and taking her hand in his. "Cuddy," he said softly, "I'm here now."

A few minutes later, an older man, tall and white-haired with glasses, wearing a white physician's coat, entered the room. House reached for his cane so he could stand but the doctor put his hand on House's shoulder to stop him.

"No need to stand son, you just sit right there." He offered his hand to House. "I'm Dr. Burt Kelly, Dr. Cuddy's attending."

"Gregory House." House acknowledged with a handshake.

"I know."

"Have we met?" House asked curiously.

"Actually, no, but I saw your name in her file at the nurse's station. Dr. Carr made sure I knew to speak with you. Son, your reputation for solving the toughest diagnostic cases in the country is pretty damn impressive. I've read your journal articles. I must say it's an honor to meet you."

"Most people wouldn't consider it an honor."

"Screw 'em. I know your methods are questionable but you've got your reasons for doing it that way, I respect that. You're a hell of a doctor."

House nodded his appreciation.

Dr. Kelly picked up Cuddy's chart and initialed it. He took off his glasses and looked at House somberly. House's heart jumped in his chest, thinking maybe the doctor was going to tell him they missed something.

"Someone up there," Dr. Kelly said, pointing upward, "was looking out for Lisa today because she should have been in much worse shape. Dr. Carr told me Lisa's car was totaled." He shook his head in amazement and continued, "Other than cuts and bruises, she's got no broken bones and one hell of a concussion. It's a grade three but there's no edema or bleeding. She'll need to be monitored for awhile but I want to keep her here for a day or two, to make absolutely sure she's okay before I send her home."

House let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He just looked at Cuddy and caressed her hand.

"You called her Lisa. Do you know her?" He asked the older gentleman.

"My wife and I used to have lunch together downstairs in the cafeteria nearly every day for years but...she died six months ago. One day, not long after that, Lisa walked into the cafeteria and saw me sitting by myself and asked if she could join me. I guess I looked kind of lonely. Anyway, she looked that way too...and a little sad...so I welcomed her company. She reminded me so much of my daughter who lives across the country and well...we decided to have lunch together once a week. She's a pretty amazing woman," he said smiling down at Cuddy in the hospital bed.

"Yeah, she is."

The softness in House's voice and the way he looked at Cuddy when he said it did not go unnoticed by Dr. Kelly. "You obviously care about her a great deal."

House nodded.

As Dr. Kelly talked with House a few more minutes about Cuddy's condition, Sharon was in the waiting room with Rachel, who sensed something was wrong and anxious because no one would tell her. Sharon had just gotten off the phone with Wilson who was on his way to the hospital when Rachel asked, "Where's mommy Sharon?"

"Listen Rach, your mommy was in a little accident and right now the doctors are checking her out."

"Is she gonna be okay?" Rachel asked as she started crying.

"Of course she is, I promise." Sharon comforted her until House walked out of the room where Cuddy was sleeping.

"Hows! Did you see mommy?" She cried as she ran over and hugged his good leg.

"I'll go sit with Lisa, you talk to her," Sharon told him as she left them alone.

"Hey munchkin, don't cry, mom's going to be okay."

"She is?"

"Sure, I'm a doctor you know."

Rachel wiped her nose and put her arms around House's neck. "I glad you here Hows." She held on to him tightly. He didn't know what else to do but put his arms around her and rock her until she calmed down. Moments later, Wilson arrived in the ER.

"House! What the hell happened?" He asked as House cradled a sniffling Rachel close to him.

"Some SOB ran a red light and hit Cuddy," House barely choked out the words. He knew Cuddy would be okay but the thought that she could have been killed hit him hard.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be. Grade three concussion, no bleeding or swelling and no broken bones."

"Oh thank God."

"Hey munchkin do you think you'll be okay with Uncle Jimmy for a bit? I want to go check on mom."

"Can I see her?"

"When she wakes up you'll be the first one okay?"

"Mmkay," she said as she reached her arms out to Wilson who took her from House.

"Go ahead House, I'll be here."

House walked into room five and saw Sharon sitting there next to Cuddy, holding her hand. House took the chair on the other side of the bed and took Cuddy's other hand, the one with the IV in it. He ran his fingers up and down her arm, hoping it would wake her. They kept vigil on either side, no words necessary. A few minutes later, Sharon's cell phone buzzed, she checked it and said, "House, it's my sister, she's got Hannah so I need to take this."

"Go, I've got her," he said softly.

House softly stroked Cuddy's hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you." He kept thinking about how they were finally getting back to some kind of normalcy in their lives and as usual something had to fuck it all up. It always does, he thought. Every single goddamn time I feel like I have something good in my life, it gets ripped away from me. Still holding her hand, he put his head down on the bed next to her and dozed off as he listened to the rhythm of her breathing.

He was seventeen and a senior in high school. He was riding his ten-speed returning home from lacrosse practice when a black and white border collie caught up with him and began running beside him. House tried to shoo the dog away and told it to go home it just stuck with him. Finally he arrived home and the dog followed him into the fenced yard, tail wagging.

House put his bike away, closed the gate and bent down to inspect his follower more closely. "Well hey there, where do you live little guy?" House checked him over for injuries and identification tags, finding neither. The dog wasn't undernourished and seemed healthy. House had never had many pets because they moved so much but he thought maybe there was a reason this dog followed him home. Though his father objected, griping that House wasn't responsible enough to have a dog, House's mother let him keep the dog in the fenced yard for a week and told him if nobody claimed him he could keep him so long as he maintained responsibility for the dog. Nobody claimed the dog and so House named him "Ralph" and used his own money, earned from an after-school job at a local grocery store, to pay for Ralph's vaccinations. House and his friends even built Ralph a fine wooden doghouse. One hot Saturday afternoon, just after House finished painting Ralph's new home, he went into the house for a drink of water. As he stood there in the kitchen drinking and looking out the window admiring his handiwork, his father walked past him and said, "You're not responsible enough to own a dog, you'll see." House just ignored his dad's comment, as he had been used to his father telling him things like that for years.

One Friday morning a few months later, House was getting ready to do his morning run before school. He went into the backyard and called Ralph but he didn't come. He looked all over and then noticed the metal gate was open. He could have sworn he closed it when he came through it the night before. He always checked it to be sure it was latched, especially since he adopted Ralph. He called Ralph's name but there was no sign of him. House felt bad, it wasn't easy for him to make friends and he liked that he could talk to Ralph about his problems and the dog just sat there listening, licking his hand, or nudging up against him in affection. House was so upset he decided not to go running that morning. A few hours later, he was driving to school when he noticed something on the side of the road not far from his house. He panicked immediately recognizing the black and white furry object. He pulled over and stopped, afraid of what he would find. As he walked over to the object, his heart sank. There was Ralph, lying by the side of road, tongue hanging out of his mouth, eyes glazed over, he was dead.

House bent over to pet Ralph, who was already cold. As the tears fell from his eyes, he returned to his car and opened the trunk and got a blanket. He went back over to Ralph and wrapped him in the blanket and put him in the trunk, turned around and headed home. When he arrived, he grabbed a shovel from the garage and headed into the backyard. Two hours later, Ralph was laid to rest, wrapped in a blanket with a few chew toys, five feet beneath the old sugar maple tree in the backyard.

His father, who had just gotten off duty, pulled into the garage as House was putting the shovel away.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" He asked gruffly.

House was sweating and still shaken from what happened. With bloodshot eyes, he looked at his father and said, "Ralph must have gotten out last night, he...he was hit by a car."

"What's with the tears? I told you that you weren't responsible enough to have a pet. See, you didn't listen to me, now the poor thing is dead. It's your fault. Maybe that will teach you a lesson," and he grabbed his hat and walked into the house without another word.

House stood there, stunned. Sadness and anger ripped through him. He kept thinking to himself, I closed that gate last night, I know I did. He began to think that maybe his father was right; it was his fault. With that thought, his eyes filled with tears again and he cried alone mourning the loss of his canine friend.

House woke with a start, looking around him he realized he was still in the emergency room. He was still shaken from his dream, it brought back memories he thought he buried long ago. He noticed his leg hurt more than usual and he tried to ignore it, attributing it to sitting down so much the past two days. He didn't want to use another fentanyl patch as he was already using the lowest dose possible and didn't like to use them all the time. He also didn't want to resort to the Oxycontin he had for breakthrough pain. His goal was to do everything he could to manage the pain, using the medication only in emergencies or as a last resort.

Taking advantage of the time he had alone with Cuddy, he leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. "See, my leg hurts but I'm not on Vicodin. I did that because of you. You made me realize that I can do this. I owe you so much and so it would be nice of you to wake up now and grace us with your presence. If you don't I'm going to wreak havoc all over this hospital."

He watched the movement of her chest up and down, she was breathing regularly and her vitals seemed normal. He was concerned that after a few hours she still hadn't woken up and worried that the doctors missed something. He wished he had access to the MRI so he could do the scans himself. He chuckled out loud at the thought. Yeah Cuddy would love that, waking up in the hospital she works in only to find I'd stolen her from her room and done an unauthorized MRI. He leaned forward again and moved some of the curls that had fallen near her ear and said, "Cuddy, if you don't wake up, I'm going to tell everyone at the hospital here that you're really a man."

House kissed her earlobe and whispered, "The doctor says you'll be fine. I'm going to stay and take care of you, I promise."

"House...if you...tell anyone I'm...man, I will kill you."

House nearly jumped at the sound of her voice. Cuddy was awake. Her eyes fluttered as she said, "water" House released her hand to get some water from the pitcher on her nightstand. He put the cup to her lips and she drank just a little.

"Hey, hey not too much now okay?"

"What...what happened?"

"You were in an accident. Do you remember anything?"

"I went to the store. God my head hurts, how long was I out?" she asked, her hand going to her head.

"Just a few hours. You're going to be in some pain awhile, that's normal. You'll remember everything in a few days too. Damn Cuddy, you scared the shit out of me, don't ever do that again."

"I'm sorry." She began to cry.

"No, no, don't cry. I'm sorry, I was just worried. You just have a whopper of a concussion but other than that you're fine."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I can't say that about your car though," he joked.

Cuddy gave him a tiny smile, then she cringed a bit, obviously her entire body would be in pain a few days. "Where's Rach?"

"Outside with Wilson. Wanna see her?"

"Yeah, please."

"I'll be right back okay?" He kissed her forehead before leaving the room to get Rachel.

House exited her room and saw Rachel sitting in Wilson's lap while he read to her from Highlights magazine. Wilson looked up hoping for good news.

"She's awake."

"Thank God."

"Yeah. And guess what?" He looked at Rachel. "She wants to see a little munchkin; do you know who that might be?"

"That's me! I'm a munch'n."

"You are? Well, we'll see about that. Come here, let's go see mommy." Before he finished the sentence, Rachel had scrambled out of Wilson's lap and into House's arms. Wilson watched the two, House holding his cane in one hand and Rachel's hand with his other. He shook his head and smiled. And House says people don't change, he thought. He got up to look for Sharon who was in the vicinity; he wanted to give her the good news.

House walked into Cuddy's room with Rachel and the little girl scrambled out of his arms onto the bed next to her mother. "Rachel, take it easy on mom okay? She's going to be sore for a few days."

"Mmkay Hows," she said with a smile.

"Mommy you okay?" She asked, placing her hands so gently on her mother's arm.

"I am now that you guys are here." Cuddy carefully lifted her very sore right arm and wrapped it around her baby girl. "I love you so much," she said.

"Love you too mommy. I was scared."

"I'm sorry baby. But you were with House and I bet he took good care of you didn't he?"

"We ate eggs on the couch," she said with a wide smile. House closed his eyes and cringed, waiting for Cuddy's wrath.

"House, I'm too tired to yell at you, so how about you just do it for me later okay?" She said. He noticed the corner of her lips turned up into a slight smile.

House chuckled to himself. She nearly escaped death, she was in a lot of pain, but she was back.

Later that evening Rachel had gone home with Sharon and Wilson returned to the hotel for a meeting. Cuddy was admitted and House planned to stay with her for the night. He kept an eye on her by waking her every few hours and checking her vitals. It was nine-thirty and he was planted in the recliner next to her bed flipping channels on the television when she woke on her own.

"God, that shit's loud."

"Well, aren't you all sunshine and puppies?" he joked.

"Shut up." She noticed he had a heating pad on his leg.

"How's your leg?" She asked, concerned.

"Got a heating pad at the nurses' station which is helping a lot. By the way, I like the nurses here, they're friendly," he said.

"That's because they don't know you. You haven't spent years torturing them."

"Give it time," he joked as he munched rather loudly on potato chips with his mouth open, grinning at her.

"You're a pig."

"You're an administrator. Oh wait," he said with a thoughtful look, "I can't say that anymore can I? I'll have to come up with another rude, crude and socially unacceptable nickname for you," he said.

"Just turn that thing off and get up here."

"You sure?"

Cuddy nodded her head yes.

"You do understand what happened last time I slept in a bed with you."

"There will be no touchy-feely crap, understood?"

"Good because I suck at the whole touchy-feely thing. Now ginormous ass grabbing? I won a gold medal in that competition!" he said raising his eyebrows up and down lewdly as he kicked off his shoes and jeans. Before he climbed into bed with her he fiddled with his watch.

"What are you doing?"

"Setting the alarm so I can wake you up in a few hours."

"Do you have to?"

"Yep."

She scooted over gently, expecting to feel more pain but thrilled to find the painkillers were doing their job. She made room for House on the big bed. He lay on top of the covers on his left side and pulled her close to him, his right arm around her waist, protectively. He watched her until she fell asleep again. As he lay there in the dark, listening to her breathing he thought about how good it felt to be there with her and take care of her. The feeling of being content, something perhaps resembling happiness, was occasionally interrupted by sporadic thoughts in his head, that little voice, nagging him, making him wonder what else could go wrong. He knew he shouldn't think that way but it was hard to undo a lifetime of pessimism. The last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep was his father's voice in his head, "It's all your fault."

Let's face it, "bumps along the way" are the natural course for House and Cuddy. What doesn't kill them makes them stronger and I owe it to them to throw in as much drama as I can to help them along. For years, they ran from each other, like cowards, they were afraid to face their fears, some of which included how to love and trust. In the past they spent their energy fighting themselves and each other. Now, if they want this to work they're going to have to fight the battles together.