With pursed lips, Cuddy tried to sneak a peek at her tense companion; gripping the steering wheel so tightly she could hear the rubber crunching and squeaking. Leaning slightly to the right as he perched on a sore seat, he glowered through the windshield with eyes that seemed to challenge the universe. Finally, fed up with her gentle compliance, he growled out the one thing that had been on his mind since the previous night. "What did they do to you?"

"Don't worry about it. Looks worse than it is."

"You haven't seen how it looks."

"Well—stop worrying about me! For God's sake, look at you; the real question is what they did with that cane!"

"I..." his word trailed off in a sigh. "Woke up down in the ditch."

"What?"

"Look, it's not important. Just tell me what the hell they did to you!"

She said nothing, staring out at the traffic lights reflected on the wet road, her body motionless. He sighed again, returning his eyes to the road. "Did you take the pills?"

"No."

"Why not?" he asked, and continued when she was quiet, "You're in pain. They manage pain. I didn't give them to you so you could waste them."

"I didn't waste them, I just...don't want to rely on narcotics."

"Who's the sucker for punishment now?"

"Will you stop? I said I'm fine."

He made a wordless noise as he bobbed his head. "Technically you didn't."

Cuddy turned her head and stared at him until he appeared to relent, then looked down at the awkward position of his legs. "I don't need to share your drugs," she muttered, and reached into her pocket where she'd stored them. "I don't need to share the blame when you run out; you take the damn pills." They clattered onto the dashboard and pinged against the glass. She settled back in her seat, knowing he was attempting to comprehend her fit. "Next time just watch the road."

"Just watch the—who am I, Hoke?" he asked, and suddenly unbuckled, foot still on the gas. He twisted in his seat and began climbing into the back. "Drive your own damn car."

"House!" she screamed, as the car hurtled unmanned through an intersection. She swung a foot out onto the brake. Doing a gymnastic pose, she looked wildly at him. "What the hell was that?"

"You're asking me what the hell this is?"

"Yeah, because you're the asshole who made me come out here in the first place!"

A semi roared past them, the driver honking its horn. In the quiet that followed, Cuddy scooted into the driver's seat, cussing under her breath. She started driving, and House turned in the seat, putting up his legs. His feet positioned behind the driver's seat, he turned his head and looked at her, thinking she was for sure going to pull over and scream at him. But she kept driving. He raised his eyes to the rearview mirror and saw the overwhelmed expression on her face. Brows up, eyes tearing over.

"Hey—pull over."

"I'm not your chaffeur, I don't take orders from you."

But it didn't take long before her eyes were too misty and she was forced to oblige. She put the car in park and then ran her hands through her curly mane. House heard her shaky breaths and felt his spirits dampen. He sat up straight and leaned forward.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, stop. Just stop...lying to me! I'm sick of it!" she shouted, and covered her eyes.

"What happened back there..."

"I don't want to talk about it, I told you that!"

He tilted his head, scrunching his face. "No you didn't."

"Whatever, whatever," she grumbled under her breath. "I can't believe I ever thought you gave a shit about me."

"I do."

"What, love? You just try to kill me out of love?"

His voice shook with the effort it took to keep it calm. "That's not what I was trying to do."

"Well, it's what you almost did," she retorted, and shook her head. "Just stop. Don't even talk."

The car was quiet then. Neither of them moved and she wouldn't look at him; not even at the reflection of him. She tried to stop crying while also trying to cry quietly. It only pissed her off that he got to see how much he bothered her; it just meant he won. Again.

The unforgiving silence was broken then by her ringtone. Cuddy wouldn't even look at her phone. She finally put the car in gear and waited for her moment to return to the lane. House scooted back in his seat and threw the seatbelt on, listening to the ringtone until her caller gave up.

She refused to look at him or talk to him, so he let his mind wander. Eventually, while performing a shoulder check, she caught a glimpse of him, deep in thought. Clearly they weren't thoughts of her; it looked like he was trying to solve chemistry equations in his head. On the other hand, maybe he could...

Still mulling over the Subaru and what kind of mess Cameron had gotten herself into, House only realized the car had stopped when his wandering brain registered the sight of Cuddy, speed-walking past the front of her car. He followed her with his eyes, turning his head to the right, until she knelt at the side of the road and began to vomit.

He opened the car door and got out, walking to where she crouched. She finished puking and sat still, waiting for him to comment.

It didn't take long.

"You didn't take that long to pee in a bush," he said gracefully. "You took that long to pee on a stick. And read it in the dark."

The Dean of Medicine felt an inexplicable pang of fear as her stomach revolted again. Realizing she wasn't done, House leaned forward and gathered up her lustrous locks. "You're hormonal, and you didn't take the pills to avoid harming the fetus."

No longer nauseous, Cuddy sat back and tried not to wipe her mouth. "You're still an asshole," she said, and grabbed his extended arm. She surged unsteadily to her feet and he pulled her against him, his grip surprisingly tight. She felt his head turn against hers, and his warm breath tickled her ear in the cold.

"What did they do to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she wept. "I don't want to talk about it."

Clinging to her hand, he turned with her as she tried to move past him. "Then just tell me it's okay. Tell me you didn't lose it."

"I'm okay," she whispered, walking stiffly towards her car.

House watched her get to the vehicle before looking back into the trees; where several pale forms lurked in the darkness.

"Yeah," he grunted, as one of the wispy figures began to move. "Me, too."