"She told me I am mac and cheese," House told Bennet.
"You will have to elaborate on that, Dr. House," Bennet said. "Unless you want me to believe that she wants to eat you."
"It's the other way around," House quipped.
Bennet laughed. House told him about the conversation. He still couldn't believe she was worried about losing him. He was that important to her. She was insecure about his past with Stacy. House had no idea how to reassure her. Stacy was his past and he had no intention of rekindling that relationship.
"How do you feel about it?" Bennet asked.
House rolled his eyes. Feelings. "I never thought I would be so important for someone," House confessed. "Dad - he always told me that no one would ever care. Leg just gave him another ammunition. When Stacy left, I really believed he was right. I was miserable. Wilson was scared for me. Then dad called to mock me and I knew I had to prove him wrong."
"And you did."
"Didn't matter. He still found something." He switched topics then, rubbing his thigh. "It was different with Stacy. We didn't talk like this. We argued, had wild sex and it was done. It's different with Cuddy. She - we argue all the time around the hospital and that is fun. But this wasn't the same. Not knowing if she still wanted me was -"
"You believe that she would change her mind?" Bennet asked. House shrugged. Most people did. "What is the first memory you have of your father, Dr. House?"
House thought back to his childhood. He remembered his father standing by his bedside, waking him up at an ungodly hour for a run. He remembered trying to avoid and he remembered being slapped. He had been three. That was one of the earliest memories he had.
"What about your mother?" Bennet asked. "Describe your relationship with her."
"No word for it," he replied. He twirled his cane and tried to focus on Lisa. She had assured him that she would wait for him after his session, unless he told her he wasn't coming. You don't have to be alone if you don't want to, and I promise to ask no questions.
"Dr. House?"
"When he wasn't home, she was the perfect mom. She would talk to me, ask me about my day, girls even. She even taught me a few songs on the piano. Oma taught me the basics but mom taught me some too."
"And when he was at home?"
"Then it was as if she was someone else. She didn't hear anything. She didn't see anything. She always knew when I was lying to her. But every lie I told her to hide the real reason of my injuries, she just believed me."
"How did that make you feel?"
"On some days, the pretending helped. It was nice to believe that dad wasn't a part of our lives. Mostly I resented her. She could have done something. Right? I know it wasn't easy those days but - I see how Lisa is with Rachel. She would kill for the kid. That's what I had told her - that if someone hurt her kid like dad hurt me, she would kill them. Makes me wonder why mom couldn't stand up for me. She had no problem cheating on him but she still chose him over me."
"How do you think that impacted you?"
House looked away. He knew the answer to that question. It made him question everything. He tested his friends, wanting to know how far they'll go for him. He pushed them away. He was always waiting for them to leave.
"The first step of changing your old habits, Dr. House, is to acknowledge them," Bennet said when House didn't answer.
"It makes me question everything."
"Very good," Bennet said. House gave him a dubious look. "It is. You are a diagnostician. Can you treat a disease without knowing what it is?"
"You think I can change?"
"I think with time and efforts, you can start to accept that people around you care for you, and that you don't need to test them."
"People don't change," House said.
"No. They don't. At a root level, you are always the same person. But everyone can grow. Like when you run differentials. When you get new data, your differential changes according to it. It's similar. In fact, I want you to try something, Dr. House. Every time you have a negative thought, for example she would leave you like Stacy did, I want you to examine the evidence for and against it."
"Like a differential," House said. He could do that perhaps. He gave the psychiatrist a nod. Their time was up. He heaved himself out of the chair and limped away.
On his way back from Trenton, House wondered whether he should go to Cuddy's place or his apartment. His apartment would be dark and lonely. Her place would have her and the kid. Would she want him there? He had spent the night yesterday. And he was going to babysit the kid tomorrow. She might want some personal time. But she had asked him to come. You don't have to be alone if you don't want to, and I promise to ask no questions. She had even told him to pick a few clothes so that he didn't have to sleep in his boxers. House decided to do just that.
When he arrived at Cuddy's place, she was in the kid's room putting her to sleep. House grinned to himself, thinking how he didn't need to look for the key anymore. She had given it to him. He stood in front of the rocking chair, watching mother and daughter, and hearing the soft lullaby. Cuddy smiled at him as Rachel drifted off to sleep. House took the kid and put her into the crib. He marvelled at how comfortably they worked together.
"I made casserole. You hungry?" she asked him, as they left Rachel's room. He nodded, looking into her eyes. She was looking at him as if he was her world. He limped an extra step and pulled her in his arms. Cuddy sighed, as if the hug was helping her. "I love you," she whispered. "Freshen up. I'll set the table."
"Living room," he said. She looked at him questioningly. "Need to be close to you." Her eyes softened and she nodded. He watched her go to the living room, before taking his bag that he had left beside the door and going to the bedroom. By the time he came back, Cuddy had fixed them plates and was already sitting on the couch.
He settled on her right and took his plate. They ate in silence. House didn't feel the urge to break it. He was comfortable. He was safe. He stopped eating as the thought registered. Yes. He was safe here. That was such a wonderful thought.
"Greg," Cuddy called. "Is something wrong?" He looked at her and shook his head. He began to eat again. "Do you know what's wrong with Peterson? From cardiology. He's been acting weird."
House plugged the name into his memory and thought. "He is going through a divorce," he told her. "I think his wife cheated on him."
"How do you even know that?"
"He took off his ring and is flirting with anyone who's got boobs." He looked at her with an innocent smile. She rolled her eyes.
"Have you been flirting with anyone?" she asked. She wasn't doubting him. It was just banter.
"Only one," House answered with a smirk.
She smiled fondly, before leaning in. "I am tired," she said. "I had four meetings today. And then there was an issue in radiology."
"But I didn't do anything," he complained. She chuckled. "You didn't have to cook. I would have made mac and cheese." House didn't really like cooking for himself but he enjoyed cooking for both of them. Watching her eat food he had prepared was quite satisfactory.
"I didn't cook because I had to. I did it because I wanted to. Unlike everything I did at the hospital today." She kissed his cheek and got up, taking the plates with her. House followed her to the kitchen. "I like doing things for us."
"You are weird," he said, washing his hands in the sink.
"Your girlfriend would have to be," she answered, making him smirk. They did the dishes, and moved back to the living room. He had always thought that his relationship with Cuddy would include lots of sex but now that he was in a relationship with her, he was realizing that he craved her presence as much as (maybe more than) he craved her body. The sex was wild but it was also sort of comforting.
His phone rang. He groaned as he pulled it out. Then smirked. It was Wilson. He showed it to Cuddy, who got a grin on her face too. He put the phone on speaker.
"Jimmy," House answered.
"Where the hell are you? I have been waiting outside your apartment for an hour."
"You have the key."
"House."
"I am with my girlfriend." He looked at Cuddy, who gave a brilliant smile.
"House. Where are you?"
"The one from Michigan." Cuddy gave him a soft smile, leaning into him.
That got Wilson's attention. "You met her again? House, that's wonderful. How -"
House wasn't listening anymore. Why would he when Lisa Cuddy looked at him like that. "Gotta go," he said. He disconnected the call and dropped the phone, leaning into his woman. There was not much talking after that.
Cuddy arrived Trenton in a much better mood that she had expected. She was happy. Her insecurities were still there but House's actions were like a comforting balm on them. He had come to her last night. She had no idea what had happened with the psychiatrist but it had shaken him. He had come to her though. He really was trying.
"Hello, Dr. Cuddy. How are you today?"
"Happy," she answered.
"That's great. Would you like to tell me what is making you happy?"
So, Cuddy did. She told about the date. She told about Wilson's words and her insecurities too. She told about House's words.
Despite everything, I want to try. With you. With her. She is a part of you. I love you. And I don't think it is possible for me to not love a part of you.
You are home, Lisa.
"He is trying so hard, and now I feel like an idiot for letting my insecurities get better of me. He was really hurt that night."
"Why didn't you want to share your feelings with him?"
"I don't know," she said. Dr. Mitchell raised her eyebrows. Cuddy sighed. "I was angry at Wilson. He had no right to come and tell me something like that. I was angry at myself for letting his words affect me as much as they did. And then House was there and it was so easy to just snap at him." She took a deep breath. "I felt miserable after that. Couldn't sleep that night."
"It sounds like your anger was a way of protecting yourself from the vulnerability?" Cuddy nodded. "What did you think Dr. House would have done if you had told him?"
"I don't know. A part of me was afraid he would listen to Wilson. Another was afraid that he would see my weakness and decide that I wasn't worth it. I am always afraid that someone, especially House, would see the real me and find something that was unlikeable."
"And what do you think that is?"
That she wasn't as perfect as she pretended to be. That she did not have things under control. That she got scared. Cuddy released a deep sigh. She knew how ridiculous this was.
"It is not," Dr. Mitchell assured her. "It is hard to unlearn something you have believed all your life. But it is possible, Dr. Cuddy."
"How?" Cuddy asked, intrigued.
"You do yoga?"
"Every morning. It helps some," she admitted.
"Good. You can also try journaling. Remember, the job is not to push aside what you are feeling but to acknowledge those emotions and process them. Journaling can help you with that. It can also help you find patterns and identify the progress you are making."
Cuddy absorbed this. "Do you really think I am making progress?"
"Yes. You made a mistake on Wednesday by pushing away your emotions. But you acknowledged them later and worked to end the misunderstanding. That is progress, Dr. Cuddy."
Cuddy entered her home and heard soft singing from Rachel's room. She smiled to herself. House was singing to her baby girl. She walked to the room and stood in the doorway, watching the two most important people in her life. Her session with Dr. Mitchell had given her a lot to think about. They had talked about the root cause of her insecurities. She had also encouraged her to set some short-term and long-term goals for their relationship.
Cuddy focused on the two people in front of her. She wondered why House had chosen to sit in the armchair and not the rocking chair. She paused to think. It wasn't that difficult. His leg would make it difficult to get out of the rocking chair, especially while holding Rachel.
"You plan on standing there all day?"
His voice brought her out of her thoughts. She smiled at him and moved closer. His eyes followed her movement intently. Cuddy loved how he looked at her. She bent to kiss both of them, Rachel on her forehead and him on his lips. "I love you," she whispered.
"Who are you talking to?"
"Both of you," she said. She took Rachel in her arms and rocking her gently, she put her in the crib. She watched her baby sleep and then moved to sit in her boyfriend's laps, ensuring that her weight was off his right leg. His arms curled around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. "You are not hungry, are you?"
"No," he answered, raising his eyebrows.
"Good. I wanna stay like this for a while." It felt wonderful to be held by him like this. It felt wonderful to come home to him after the session she had had. "Therapy is tough," she complained.
"Tell me about it. I even got homework."
"I got two." She laughed at the weirdness of this conversation. "I am supposed to start journaling." She gave him a mock glare. "And you won't read it." He gave her a look of pure innocence. "I am also supposed to set some short-term and long-term goals for our relationships."
"Like what?"
She could hear the curiosity in his voice. "Like planning regular dates."
"Sounds interesting." He stayed silent for a while and Cuddy just stayed in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. He didn't tell her about his own homework, and she didn't push him. Therapy wasn't easy and she had no intention of making it more difficult by grilling him for more information. "We could take a small vacation in a month or two," House suggested. "Nothing big. Just someplace close for the weekend. Rachel could come with us. What say, Cuddles?"
Cuddy hummed. She liked the idea. "I say we do it." She pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Can we go out today? Just the two of us. Anywhere is fine. Maybe we can go to your apartment later. I wanna hear the serenade again."
"Sounds like a plan."