Chapter 22

Cuddy and House had spent New Year's Eve at home, but their festivities were cut short when Rachel caught a virus at school. House wagered it was a rhinovirus, while Cuddy insisted it was just a common cold. Soon after, Rachel passed the bug to Hope, and then to House and Cuddy themselves.

Normally, Cuddy wasn't particularly sensitive to seasonal colds. A decongestant, a fever reducer, and some hot tea usually did the trick. But this time was different. For two weeks, she suffered from nausea, vomiting, a stuffy nose, and body aches. However, she couldn't afford to be out of commission for two weeks. She continued to manage the endocrinology department, oversee hospital operations, handle clinic shifts, keep House and his outlandish requests in check, and tend to her personal responsibilities, including caring for her daughters and managing their household. She was exhausted and desperately needed sleep.

Alone in her office, Cuddy wasted no time in closing the curtains, lying down on the sofa, and stealing na hour of much-needed rest.

Her office was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the hospital—a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a view of the city skyline. The walls were adorned with diplomas, awards, and framed photographs of her family. A large mahogany desk dominated the center of the room, cluttered with paperwork and a computer monitor. Behind the desk sat a plush leather chair where Cuddy spent countless hours managing hospital affairs.

The sofa where she lay was a luxurious addition, upholstered in soft, cream-colored fabric. A throw blanket lay draped over the back, offering warmth and comfort. The room was bathed in soft, golden light from a Tiffany-style lamp on her desk, creating a cozy atmosphere despite the hustle and bustle of the hospital outside.

As Cuddy closed her eyes, she felt the weight of exhaustion lift from her shoulders, if only temporarily, as she drifted off into a much-needed slumber.

As exhaustion threatened to overtake her, Cuddy's eyelids grew heavy, the weight of sleep pressing down on her. Just as she was on the verge of drifting off, the door to her office creaked open, and House entered.

"Hey, Cuddy, I need…" House began, but his voice trailed off as he took in the sight of Cuddy, slumped on the sofa, looking utterly drained.

Cuddy managed to open her eyes and meet his gaze. "I need to sleep," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

House's concern deepened as he observed her tired demeanor. Without another word, he abandoned whatever request he had come to make and approached her. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he said, "Give yourself some space, Cuddles."

With a nod, Cuddy allowed herself to relax into the sofa, feeling the fatigue wash over her. House sat down beside her, and without hesitation, she shifted to lie against him, her head resting on his chest.

In the dim light of her office, the scene was unexpectedly intimate. The soft glow from the lamp cast a warm, golden hue over their entwined forms, creating a cocoon of comfort and tranquility amidst the chaos of the hospital.

As Cuddy surrendered to sleep, she felt the tension leave her body, replaced by a sense of peace and security in the arms of the man she loved. And in that quiet moment, with the steady rhythm of House's heartbeat beneath her ear, she knew that she was exactly where she needed to be.

As an hour slipped by, House remained awake, watching over Cuddy as she slept soundly in his arms. He had been keeping a silent vigil, his mind racing with concern. The symptoms she exhibited were troubling, and a mental whiteboard in his mind listed them out in stark detail.

Fatigue, drowsiness, stuffy nose, body aches, headaches... they were all there, forming a worrying pattern that House couldn't ignore. As he observed her restless movements, a sense of unease settled over him.

Gently, House brushed a stray lock of hair from Cuddy's face, his touch tender as he tried to soothe her subconscious discomfort.

With each passing moment, House's concern for Cuddy only grew, a nagging worry gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. He knew he needed to find answers, to uncover the root cause of her symptoms and provide the care she needed.

Wilson's office

In Wilson's cozy office, dimly lit by the soft glow of the desk lamp, House's entrance disrupted the tranquil atmosphere. He barged in with his usual lack of ceremony, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor.

Wilson, seated behind his desk, glanced up from his paperwork, eyebrows raised in mild surprise at House's abrupt entrance. However, his expression quickly morphed into one of familiarity, a silent acknowledgment of House's habitual disregard for social niceties.

House wasted no time in getting to the point. "Cuddy's sick," he announced, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

Wilson regarded him calmly, his demeanor giving no indication of alarm. "Yeah, with a flu," he responded, his tone matter-of-fact.

But House wasn't satisfied with Wilson's seemingly dismissive response. His brow furrowed in concern as he pressed on, adamant that Cuddy's condition was more serious than a simple bout of influenza.

"It's not just the flu," House insisted, his voice gaining intensity. "A flu would have passed weeks ago. She's not dealing with just a flu; I think she has lupus."

Wilson's eyes widened in genuine surprise at House's assertion. "Lupus!?" he exclaimed, his voice rising involuntarily in response to the unexpected diagnosis.

Quickly realizing his lapse, Wilson attempted to lower his voice, but House waved off his concern with a characteristic quip. "Keep it down," House retorted dryly, his sarcasm punctuating the tense atmosphere.

As House elaborated on his suspicions, Wilson's expression shifted from surprise to genuine concern. He listened intently as House outlined Cuddy's symptoms, his concern growing with each detail provided.

When House concluded his explanation, Wilson's initial shock gave way to a surprising reaction. Instead of sharing House's grave concerns, Wilson erupted into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the otherwise quiet office.

House stared at Wilson, momentarily taken aback by his friend's unexpected response. But as Wilson continued to laugh, House couldn't help but feel a sense of incredulity at the situation.

"This is why doctors shouldn't treat family," Wilson chuckled, shaking his head as he locked eyes with House. "Because we can't separate our professional projections from reality."

As Wilson spoke, his laughter subsided, replaced by a look of genuine empathy for his friend's predicament. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze softening as he addressed House directly.

"Cuddy needs a weekend with you, just the two of you, away from it all," Wilson suggested, his tone earnest. "Take her out, enjoy yourselves, and forget about work for a while."

Despite his initial skepticism, House couldn't deny the wisdom in Wilson's words. As he pondered his friend's advice, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the tension in the room gradually dissipating.

"It's never lupus," Wilson added with a wry grin, punctuating his words with a light chuckle.

In that moment, as House and Wilson shared a rare moment of camaraderie amidst the chaos of their professional lives, House couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for his friend's unwavering support.

Friday night came as fast as he could ask, as House and Cuddy lay together on the sofa, the warmth of the crackling fireplace enveloped them in a cozy embrace. The room was filled with a soft glow from the flickering flames, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The quiet intimacy of the moment was punctuated only by the soft rustle of fabric as they shifted closer to each other.

House gently toyed with a strand of Cuddy's hair, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against her skin. She nestled into the curve of his chest, her breathing slow and steady as she relaxed into his embrace. With the television turned off, the only sound that filled the room was the comforting crackle of the fire, creating a serene ambiance that enveloped them both.

In the tranquil stillness, House felt compelled to share something with Cuddy, something he knew was important to her. His voice was gentle as he began to speak, his words mingling with the soothing sound of the fire.

"Cuddy, I need to tell you something," he murmured, his gaze fixed on her as he spoke.

Cuddy responded with a soft hum, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of curiosity and affection.

"When I was out with Hope on Christmas Eve, we went to the bookstore… and I ran into Stacy," House confessed, his tone sincere as he recounted the encounter.

Cuddy lifted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes searching his for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. But House continued, his words pouring out in a rush as he sought to be completely transparent with her.

"I'm telling you this because I know how important honesty is to you," he explained, his words measured yet sincere. "I was with Hope, I introduced her as my daughter, and Stacy noticed the ring. It all happened so quickly."

Cuddy listened attentively, her expression calm and accepting as she processed his confession. With a simple nod, she conveyed her understanding, her lips curving into a tender smile as she leaned in to kiss him softly.

"Okay," she replied softly, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

As House took a deep breath, a sense of relief washed over him, knowing that Cuddy accepted his honesty with grace and understanding. With a newfound sense of closeness between them, he offered a tentative suggestion, his words tinged with sincerity.

"We can have dinner with her if you want," he suggested, his gaze never wavering from hers as he awaited her response. "I love you Cuddles" he told her and kiss her forhead "And I will live for the rest of my life"

"And now" He told her "what about we having dinner? And I not talking about how I plan to get you for dessert" she laugh "I don"t feel like eating…"

"Are you sure?" House inquired, his concern evident in his voice as he watched Cuddy sit up from his chest. "I can make you something else if you'd like."

Cuddy shook her head gently, a faint smile playing on her lips. "No, thank you. I'm really not hungry," she replied, her words tinged with exhaustion.

House nodded understandingly, reaching out to gently grasp her hand. "Okay, no pressure. We can just relax here together," he suggested, his voice soft and reassuring.

Cuddy smiled gratefully, squeezing his hand in return. "That sounds perfect," she agreed, leaning in to press a tender kiss against his lips.

And as they settled back into each other's embrace, the warmth of their love enveloped them once more, soothing away the worries of the day and filling their hearts with a sense of peace and contentment.

As Saturday morning unfolded, the promise of a peaceful weekend began to unravel before their eyes. Cuddy's unease was palpable as she moved about the house, a sense of foreboding lingering in the air.

"House," she called out, her voice tinged with panic, "I think I'm going to faint."

Before House could even register her words, Cuddy's legs gave way beneath her, and she began to crumple to the ground. With lightning speed, he lunged forward, his arms reaching out to catch her just in time, preventing her from hitting the floor.

Cuddy's body went limp in his arms as she lost consciousness, her breathing shallow and labored. Panic surged through House as he held her close, his heart racing with fear and uncertainty.

Gently cradling her in his arms, he carried her to the nearest couch, carefully laying her down and checking her pulse. The worry etched into his features deepened as he realized the gravity of the situation.

With trembling hands, he reached for his phone, dialing for na ambulance as he frantically tried to rouse her. But Cuddy remained unresponsive, lost in the depths of unconsciousness.

As the paramedics rushed her to the hospital, House followed closely behind, his mind swirling with fear and worry for the woman he loved. Little did he know, their peaceful weekend had been shattered, giving way to a new and unforeseen crisis. "Take her to PPTH, I'm Dr. House"

Cuddy blinked groggily as she slowly regained consciousness, her surroundings swimming into focus. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils, mingling with the faint hum of medical equipment. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor echoed in the background, punctuated by the muffled chatter of hospital staff bustling about.

The harsh glare of fluorescent lights bathed the room in a stark, clinical glow, casting everything in a harsh white hue. Cuddy squinted against the brightness, her head throbbing with a dull ache as she struggled to orient herself.

"Hi," she murmured weakly, turning her head to find House by her side. His presence brought a sense of calm amidst the disorientation, his familiar face a reassuring anchor in the sea of confusion.

"Hi, Cuddles," House replied softly, his voice laced with concern. "You got dehydrated, and I'm willing to bet you haven't eaten in hours."

Cuddy managed a faint nod, her throat dry and scratchy as she tried to form a response. She reached out to squeeze his hand, grateful for his unwavering support.

"You know, I always thought I could separate my rationality from my emotions," House continued, his tone contemplative as he pulled a portable ultrasound machine closer. "I used to think the whole 'doctors shouldn't treat family' thing didn't apply to me."

He glanced at Cuddy, who watched him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity as he spoke. "I talked to Wilson last week, and you know what I told him?" he asked, his gaze intense as he focused on her.

Cuddy furrowed her brow, trying to follow his train of thought amidst the fog of her confusion. "What did you tell him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought you had lupus! Lupus?!" House exclaimed, a wry twist to his lips. "It's ironic, isn't it? It's never lupus, but with the love of my life, it had to be lupus! But you know what, we really shouldn't treat family. Because let's be honest…"

He trailed off, his gaze locking with Cuddy's as he motioned for her to lift her shirt. She complied, her mind reeling with confusion as she tried to process his words.

"You don't have lupus, Cuddy," House declared, his tone sober as he positioned the ultrasound probe on her abdomen. "You're pregnant.

Before Cuddy could even process his words, he turned the monitor towards her, revealing the grainy image of a tiny, pulsating heartbeat.

"10 – 12 weeks, Cuddy," House said softly, his voice filled with awe. "You're pregnant."

Cuddy's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the monitor, her heart pounding with disbelief. She looked up at House, her eyes wide with shock as the weight of his words sank in.

They were going to have another baby. A baby.