Her hands were shaking. She tightened her hold on the steering wheel and pressed her foot on the accelerator. She probably shouldn't be driving but she needed to get home to her daughter. She needed to hold her baby and reassure herself that she was safe.

If someone did to your kid what he did to me, you would kill that person.

Whatever she had expected, this was not it. How had she missed it? She had known House for twenty years. She had been with him. She had met his parents countless times. She had always noticed the tension between him and his father. How had she not seen it sooner? He had told her he hated him. I don't hate her. I hate him. Why hadn't she noticed it sooner? How could she have been so blind? She had been an awful friend to House.

The familiar street told her that she was almost home. Cuddy released a deep breath. She would go inside, she would take her daughter from the nanny, she would ask the nanny to leave. Then she would book the flight and call Wilson. She needed to call Stacy too. She parked her car into the garage and walked into her home. She found her baby in the nursery. Marina was feeding her.

"Dr. Cuddy," Marina spoke as soon as she looked at her. She paused a bit. "Are you alright?"

Was she alright? No. "I - I need to go to a funeral tomorrow. You will have to keep Rachel with you. I should be back tomorrow." She took the baby in her arms and burped her. Marina nodded at her and left with a bye to Rachel. Cuddy followed her to the living room and locked the door behind her. The baby in her arm was looking at her. Cuddy tightened her grip on the baby. "I will always protect you," she whispered to her baby. "You will never have to be afraid of me. You will never have to earn my love. I will always love you."

Barely a month-old Rachel could barely comprehend what her mother was saying. She was already falling asleep. Cuddy carried her to the nursery and settled on the rocking chair. She rocked the baby, singing a lullaby. As Rachel slept, Cuddy thought of the things she needed to do. She gently put Rachel in the crib and pulled out her phone. She sent a text to Wilson and hurriedly got her laptop from her desk. She sat on the dining table and made arrangements for the next day. The funeral was at eleven. She booked them a flight at about eight-fifteen in the morning and return for six in the evening. She sent the details to House. Her phone rang. Wilson was calling her. She answered the call.

"How did you convince him?" She didn't. House convinced himself. She had no idea why he wanted to go to the funeral. But he did and he wanted her with him. He had called her Lisa. He had talked to her; opened up to her. "Cuddy?"

"I deal with him daily, Wilson. I can get him to do things." No way she was telling him the truth. It wasn't hers to share.
"Tell me what you have over him. I'll use it the next time I want him to listen."
"You will have to talk to him for that," she reminded her friend.
"Cuddy."
"Wilson."
"It's not that easy."
"Of course, it isn't. But you need your friend. Is he an asshole? Yes. But we both know he cares. Wilson, he risked his life."
"He was feeling guilty."
"Do you really believe that?" she asked, infuriated now. "Do you really believe he did it because of guilt? He did it for you. For his friend. How can you be so blind?"
"Cuddy."
"No. It was not his fault that she had a cold. He almost died trying to save her. You need time, then take it. But stop lying to yourself. This stupidity is making you miserable."

Wilson was silent for a few minutes. Cuddy waited for him. "I will see you guys tomorrow," he said. She let him escape the conversation. Hopefully, he would consider what she had said.

Her next call was to Stacy. Cuddy kept it short, reminding Stacy that working in the hospital would mean dealing with House. She told the lawyer that House had not forgiven her and she would be dealing with Foreman mostly. Stacy accepted it. They set up a meeting for a week later, when Cuddy would return to work.

She needed to call her therapist too. Dr. Laura Mitchell. Cuddy had started seeing her recently. Losing Joy and then being unable to connect to Rachel had prompted her to make an appointment. She was not going to be the parent who took out her frustration on her kid. Her daughter deserved to be loved and cherished.

Cuddy went to check on Rachel. She was still asleep and would be asleep for some more time. Cuddy settled in the living room and called Dr. Laura Mitchell. She was a psychiatrist in Trenton.

"Dr. Cuddy. Is everything alright?"

Cuddy choked a sob. "No," she whispered. She cleared her throat. "I told you about House? His father's dead. He refused to go to the funeral. So, his mom called Wilson and Wilson called me. He wanted me to drug House." She went on to explain the entire conversation with House. "How could I not have known? I am his boss, his friend. I should have noticed something. All these years, I never understood his pain. I completely missed his trauma. I should have noticed the signs. I should have been more aware. I am a doctor, for God's sake. I am his doctor."

"Guilt is a common reaction when we learn something painful about someone we care about. It's important to acknowledge it but also to understand that you couldn't have known unless he chose to share it with you," Dr. Mitchell said. "From what you have told me, Dr. House is very good at hiding."

"I feel like I failed him. All these years, how many times did I trigger him?"

"You can't change the past, Dr. Cuddy. What's important is how you move forward. You are missing a very important detail from the conversation."

"What?"

"Dr. House trusted you. He could have avoided both the conversations. There was absolutely no need for him to tell you about his grief over his leg. He also didn't have to tell you about his father. He still did."

She had not considered that. He had trusted her. He had opened up to her. She smiled softly. House's trust was not easily earned. She vowed to never take it lightly.

"What do you want to do now?"

"I want to be there for him in any way he will allow me to be."

"Being there for him doesn't mean you have to fix him. Sometimes, just letting him know you understand and care can make a difference." Cuddy took a deep breath. She knew Dr. Mitchell was right. She talked some more with the doctor, discussing her feelings for House and the impact of this revelation on their friendship.

Cuddy slept fitfully that night. House kept appearing in her nightmares - always injured and always too far. She just couldn't reach him. That was coupled with her usual fears of losing Rachel. She barely slept that night.

The morning was hectic. Marina picked Rachel up at six and House arrived at the same time. On his bike. "I am not getting on that thing," she told him. She got into her car and House slid into the passenger seat, grumbling. Cuddy started driving to the airport. She had so much to say to him but she had no idea how he would take it. She wanted to apologize for not noticing sooner. She wanted to thank him for trusting her.

"Rugrat keep you awake last night?" House asked.

"Not really. She needed me a few times but -" Cuddy paused. Should she tell him about her nightmares? Not wanting him to pull back, she decided on the partial truth. "I keep having these nightmares where her grandparents take her away from me. They change their mind like Becca did and -"

"You keep checking if she is still there."
"Basically."
"A sane person would get a lawyer's opinion," House quipped.
Cuddy grinned at his tone. "I already did. Doesn't help with the fears."

House grunted. They stayed silent for a while, House fiddling with the car's radio. He couldn't settle on one channel and after a while, Cuddy shut it off. "Hey," House protested. "I was trying to listen to it."

"No. You were trying to irritate me."
"No one said I can't do both."

Cuddy rolled her eyes fondly. She had missed bantering with him. That was one thing she was looking forward to when she returned to work next week. "I have a meeting with Stacy on Monday. She will be rejoining PPTH." House grunted but stayed silent. He was not in a sharing mood today. "How did you meet Wilson?"

"Seriously? You wanna small talk?"
"Or we could stay silent all the way. Would you prefer that?" she asked. No way House would be silent the entire journey.
"We met at a medical convention in New Orleans. Wilson got into a bar fight. I bailed him."
"Wilson got into a fight?" Cuddy asked, surprised.

"There was this guy who kept playing Billy Joel's Leave a Tender Moment Alone on the jukebox. He was Wilson first but the guy wouldn't listen. So, he threw a bottle into the mirror, which successfully conveyed his message. And smashed a ten-foot antique mirror. And set an example to two other patrons who threw shot glasses." Cuddy laughed at that. Poor Wilson.

"Wait. You bailed out a stranger?"
"It was a boring convention. Had to have somebody to drink with."
"What a great foundation to the friendship! You were bored."
"No wonder it's fallen."

Cuddy's heart broke at his tone. He was sure about it. "House. Wilson is hurting. He needs someone to blame and you are an easy option. Don't give up so easily."

"I asked him if he thought I should risk my life to save Amber's." And Wilson said yes. That was not a question you said yes to. He could have at least framed it differently. Cuddy willed her mind to let go of the anger.

"He cares for you, House. He is just scared and in pain. Give it time."

House didn't respond and this time Cuddy let him retreat to silence. They got to the airport and were soon in the flight. House snored next to her and Cuddy took time to observe his face. She looked away before her gaze could wake him up though. She remembered his face so well. She remembered the soft kisses he would give her. She remembered his body. How he would use his height to tease her. She remembered his long stride and how he would chase her. And his bright blue eyes that would stare into her soul. Years of chronic pain had dulled them but she would still catch a glimpse now and then. She loved seeing the light in his eyes.

When they landed in Lexington, she handed House the keys to the rented car. "Do you mind driving? I need to call Rachel."

He took the keys from her. "You taught your one-month-old kid to answer the phone? Talk about overachievement."

Cuddy rolled her eyes but didn't respond. She was glad he was feeling a bit better. She quickly called Marina and ensured Rachel was fine. She talked to the baby too. House rolled his eyes at her tone but she ignored him and promised her baby that she'd be home soon.

"Mom wants me to give the eulogy," House told her when she disconnected the call. "Eulogy from the Greek for good word. Now, if she asked me to deliver a bastardogy, I'd be happy to —" But Cuddy had zoned out. Where the hell had his mother been during his childhood? House had told her multiple times that he couldn't lie to his mom. She had to be a smart woman to even make that possible. Then why hadn't she seen it? House must have noticed the change in her behaviour. His next words surprised her. "I don't think she knew everything. But she did know some. Always told me to stop pushing his buttons and stop being difficult."

Cuddy held her anger in an iron grip. Don't interrogate him. Don't overwhelm him. Let him have the control of this conversation.

"You are angry," House commented.
"He hurt you," Cuddy whispered.

House didn't respond but Cuddy could see his shoulders relax a little. Was he so unused to people standing up for him? She wanted to tell him that she would always be on his side. He didn't have to be alone. The conversation was pulled short as House pulled up to an antebellum mansion with a plaque indicating it was the Lambert Funeral Home.

Wilson was waiting for them at the entrance. House limped to him. They both looked at each other but no words were exchanged. Cuddy rolled her eyes and walked to them. They were both equally stubborn. "You got into a bar fight?" she asked Wilson. Wilson gaped at her and turned to House.

"You told her?"

"She asked." House shrugged. He walked in and greeted his mother. Cuddy took a deep breath and pushed her anger down. This was just like another board meeting. She could pretend to be perfectly pleasant.

"I am really sorry for your loss, Mrs. House," she said politely.

"Oh! You must call me Blythe." Blythe turned to her son. "I'm so glad you're here. Oh, it's a load off of my mind just to see you. Do you know what you're going to say?"

"I don't know. Just let the minister or one of his buddies from the corps -"
She cut him off. "You're talking. I don't care that you didn't like him. He was your father, and he loved you. The war is over, Greg. Please do this for me."

Loved him? Since when was abuse an indication of love? War? No Lisa. You are here for Greg. House looked like a small child in front of his mom. A child who couldn't escape. His mom walked away and House followed her with his eyes.

"He wasn't even my real father," House commented.
"Really?" Cuddy asked surprised.
"I figured it out when I was twelve."

"Of course. You were a brilliant, socially isolated 12-year-old, and you create a parallel universe in which your life doesn't suck," Wilson spoke. Cuddy wanted to smack him. But she also wanted to know the story.

"I look at the facts. First of all, he was deployed on training exercises off Okinawa during the time I had to be conceived."
"And since you're 150 years old, air travel was impossible."
"His second toe is longer than his big toe. Mine isn't."
"This is sad. You don't believe your mother screwed around —"
"I have a distinctive red birthmark on my scalp that matches a certain friend of the family."
"If you believed this story, you wouldn't be telling me about his birthmarks. You'd be telling me about the genetic testing you had done. And since you haven't mentioned it, obviously, you didn't do it. Because you don't want to -"

Cuddy was getting tired of this conversation. Wilson should really know better than not trusting House. She pulled them both - her hold on House was gentle - followed Blythe and joined as the prayers started. Cuddy and Wilson stood on House's either side, a little away from the crowd.

"I am not talking," House whispered to them. "We were strangers who shared some geography 30 years ago."
"Right, he had no influence on you at all. The father who was compulsive about punctuality," Wilson commented. Cuddy released a deep breath. Wilson didn't know.
"His issue. Which I deliberately made not my issue."
"Thereby making it your issue. Compulsively showing up four hours late, ignoring discipline, ignoring rules."

Had House's dad hurt him for not being compulsive about punctuality, she wondered. She also wondered how she could prevent him from giving the eulogy.

"Oh, God, he's here."

"Who's here?" Wilson asked. They both tried to follow House's gaze. Cuddy couldn't look at the man he was watching but Wilson could. "The one you're pretending is your father? Nice pick. He looks like Sean Connery. So back when you were devising this fantasy, did you tell your father - Dad, I refuse to recognize your existence because I have chosen James Bond as my dad?"

"I used different words." Oh House!
"What? Hearing that your own son hates you so much he's replaced you in his mind? That's gotta suck. How did he take it?"
"He didn't speak to me for a summer."

House seemed happy about it. Cuddy was glad for that. They sat down as the prayers ended and then Blythe invited him to speak. House walked to the podium as they all sat down. She wanted to hold his hand and reassure him. He wasn't alone. She was there with him.

"There's a lot of people here today," House spoke looking around the room. "Including some from the corps. And I notice that every one of them is either my father's rank or higher. And that doesn't surprise me. Because, if the test of a man is how he treats those he has power over, it was a test my father failed." Cuddy felt so proud of him. He was not letting his father win. House continued, "This man you're eager to pay homage to, he was incapable of admitting any point of view but his own. He punished failure, and he did not accept anything less than —"

House caught his mother's eyes and then looked at Wilson. Cuddy let her pride show on her face when he momentarily looked at her. "He loved doing what he did. He saw his work as some kind of… sacred calling. More important than any personal relationship. Maybe if he'd been a better father, I'd be a better son. But I am what I am because of him, for better or for worse. And I just — I just wish —"

House ducked his head down. Was he crying, Cuddy wondered. She watched as he unhooked his cane from the podium and limped to the casket. When he leaned down to kiss his father, Cuddy shared a look with Wilson. They rose together and walked to him, perfectly supportive friends looking to console him. When Cuddy reached near House, she had to hold back a laughter. House was using the opportunity to take a DNA sample from his father's earlobe with the nail clippers he had hidden by a handkerchief in his left hand.

"Put it back," Wilson said.
"Well, he's not gonna miss it."
"I'm done enabling. You can't even let them put him in the ground without making it serve your agenda?"

Cuddy gently touched Wilson's elbow, gesturing with her eyes towards the other mourners. Wilson rolled his eyes and left the room. House followed him, so Cuddy did too.

"How can I still feel surprise? You would take, even this, a moment of real human grief, and turn it into a farce," Wilson spoke angrily. So, this was the moment of reconciliation. She had no doubt they would reconcile. Their friendship was strong.

"Oh, cut the crap. You enjoy what I do. I never had to force you. You like coming along for the ride."
"Yes, that's why I'm cheering you on now."

"This is about you needing to be prepared for the worst. So, you become an oncologist. No surprises there. Worst happens all the time. But Amber, she was young and healthy. Her death came out of nowhere."

House!

"Don't bring Amber into this."

"And you weren't ready. That makes you angry. The world sucks, and you didn't have time to brace yourself."
"What happened out there is your show!"
"You're scared to death of losing anyone that matters. So, you dump the person who matters the most to you!"
"I'm not scared to death. I'm moving forward!"
"Because no one can take away from you what you no longer have."
"Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho. Your father's death is about you. Amber's death is about you. I can't imagine why someone wouldn't want to be your friend!"
"Admit it, you're angry and you're scared of losing me."
"I'm not angry, I'm not scared."
"Admit it."
"I'm not afraid."
"Admit it."
"I've lost people. It happens."
"Admit it. Admit it!"
"What are you, five? Stop repeating —"
"Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Come on, admit it. Admit it!"

Cuddy really wished Wilson would admit it. What House said had made sense but hearing him repeat himself like a five-year-old was getting a little boring. Cuddy thought of the future when Rachel would act like this. House would definitely spoil her, she thought with a private grin. She was busy with her thoughts when Wilson picked up a liquor bottle and flung it through a stained-glass window.

"Still not boring," House commented. Cuddy laughed.

Cuddy still had no idea how they managed to get out of all of that. Blythe had been worried and disappointed. Wilson had been apologetic. She had enjoyed the conversation, obviously doing a much better job hiding her amusement than House did. They were in a diner now. Wilson had left earlier - he had driven to Lexington - but Cuddy was sure he and House would be fine now.

"You didn't tell him," House commented as they ordered their food.
"Didn't tell who what?" Cuddy asked.
"Wilson. About dad."
"Of course, I didn't. Did you really expect me to?" Cuddy couldn't help but feel a little offended. Did he really think she would betray him like that?

"He always said no one would believe me," House whispered. Cuddy reached to touch his hand. He looked at her. His blue eyes looked so lost right now.

"I believe you, House. I will always believe you." He looked at her and nodded. Cuddy squeezed his hand. "I did talk to my therapist. Needed to process it." She had no idea why she told him that.

There was surprise in his eyes. "You seeing a shrink?" he asked. His tone held something she couldn't understand. She decided to give him the truth.

"My first few days with Rachel, I couldn't bond with her. She kept on crying no matter what I did. At the end I just begged her to tell me what she needed. Apparently, all she needed was me to talk to her. I had been so frustrated and I - I didn't want to be one of those parents who couldn't deal with their own emotions and took it out on their kid. So, a shrink." She shrugged. House nodded.

"A hospital, a kid and a shrink. You must have a busy schedule," House spoke after a few minutes of silence.

Cuddy laughed. "Hospital will be 8 to 5 on weekdays. Rachel will be all the time and I do have help. You met Marina this morning. And shrink is one hour on Saturdays - eleven to twelve." She suddenly realized that House had wanted her schedule. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You will not break into her office, and steal my file. Or - or I will make Foreman your boss," she threatened him.

"You are sexy when you are angry."

Her heart fluttered. "Get your eyes checked, House. I am always sexy."