House limped to the hospital exit. It was after five. Cuddy had already left. He hadn't been able to visit her home last two days thanks to a patient, and now all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms. Nothing would stop him.

"House," Cameron called him from behind. He closed his eyes.

"It's five. I am done here," he told her.

"Seventeen-year-old girl, came in with severe lower abdominal pain. Rapid heart rate, low blood pressure, pale skin and nauseous."

He scrunched his nose. "Internal bleeding. Boring."

"Give me some credit," Cameron said, with a roll of her eyes. "CT revealed a uterine rupture with hemoperitoneum. The surgeons repaired it but now she is developing new bruising around the surgical site and IV sites."

House smirked. He took the file from her. "Interesting." She smirked at him. "Yeah. Yeah. Now move woman." He limped back to the elevator, sending a text to the team.

"Seventeen-year-old girl with a uterine rupture and bruising around the surgical site and IV sites. Differential diagnosis people," he said, walking into the conference room and tossing the file to the team. He dropped his bag on a chair and wrote the symptoms on the board.

"Bleeding Disorder," Foreman suggested.
"Autoimmune," Taub said.

"What else?" House asked. They looked at him. House groaned. "Do a coagulation profile," House ordered. "And an echocardiogram. See if there is any cardiovascular involvement."

"And an ANA panel," Foreman said. House rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Get a more detailed history. Talk to the patient and the parents separately," he told them. "Well, the mom, since dad's dead." They nodded and left the room. House turned to look back at the board. This was not just a bleeding disorder. He didn't have a good feeling about this. He picked up his bag and left.

As House drove his car to Cuddy's place, he could feel his mood shift. The car did not help with his leg pain. It was lower and the rides were always bumpy and uncomfortable. He knew it was time to change it. Actually, it was past the time but he didn't want to. He had had this car since before the infarction. Maybe it was broken like him but it still meant something. Right?

He arrived at Cuddy's place and knocked on the door. She opened it in a few minutes. He walked in and kissed her. He had missed her. She kissed him back but House could feel her holding back. He pulled back and looked at her. Her eyes were slightly red. "You were crying," he said.

"It's nothing," she said, leaving him alone and going back to the living room. House locked the door behind him and followed her.

"It's obviously not nothing if you were crying," he said.

"Let it go, House," she said.

"How long have you known me? You know I am not gonna let it go." He pulled her towards him and held her. "What is it? Your mom called?"

"No," she said, looking away. She was trying to avoid him.

"Did I do something?" he asked. Had he hurt her? Was she upset that he hadn't visited her in the past two days?

"No. Let it go," she said again. She pulled herself free and walked back to the couch.

"Tell me Lisa," he insisted.

"Can't you just let it go?" she asked, angry all of a sudden. "Did I give up all my privacy when I said yes to you?"

House felt his own temper rising. This wasn't exactly easy for him but he was trying. He was willing to open up; to let her in. She, on the other hand, would rather have her damned privacy. "Fine," he said. "Live with your privacy. I am out of here." He turned around quickly, his leg snarling at him for that manoeuvre, and walked out of her place. She could live with her damned privacy and he would live with his misery.

House drove his car viciously to his home. Banging the doors on his way out and in, he found himself standing alone in his apartment. He dropped his cane and sat down on the couch. He picked up the remote and flipped through the channels, determined not to think about what he had left behind.

Why couldn't she just tell him? What was bothering her that she wouldn't share with him? She had told him about her parents, so why not this? Did this mean that she didn't want him to share things with her? Should he stop talking about his father with her? He could do that, if that was the cost of having her in his life. He had ignored it for so long, hidden it behind locked doors. He could still do it. He looked away from the television, trying to ignore his blurry vision.

Stop crying like a wimp. You are pathetic. Just a wimp.

House flinched, remembering his father's words. The words that had been said to him at least a thousand times. He really was pathetic. He had one woman who was willing to look past all his shortcomings and he had just left her. He was pathetic.

His phone rang at six in the morning. It was Thirteen. "She has joint pain and excessive bruising. She is complaining of abdominal pain. Foreman's doing an ultrasound."

House disconnected the call and left for the hospital. At least there was something he could still do right. When he arrived at the hospital, Taub met him at the door. "We had to rush her in for an emergency splenectomy."

"Who's the surgeon?" House asked.
"Dr. Chase," he answered.

Good, House thought. He could get straight answers from Chase. He limped to the viewing room to watch the surgery. The rest of the team was already there. Chase was finishing up. House watched, wondering what would cause spontaneous ruptures in a relatively healthy seventeen-year-old.

Chase joined them in the conference room after he finished up. "Her tissues are unusually fragile," he told them

"Ideas people," House barked. "Seventeen-year-old girls don't randomly start bleeding from two different organs. At this rate, she will rupture all her organs."

"Polyarteritis nodosa," Foreman said.
"It normally presents with fever," Thirteen countered. "HHT."
"DIC," Taub suggested.
"Not without an underlying cause," Foreman protested.

House ignored them, though he did note that Kutner was not contributing much. He focused on the symptoms.

Joint pain.
Uterine rupture.
Spleen rupture.
Bruising.
Soft tissue.

What would cause these symptoms in a healthy seventeen-year-old? Unless she wasn't healthy. "What killed her father?" he asked.

"Stroke," Taub answered.

Rupture of a cerebral artery could be mistaken for a stroke. Damn. "Do an expedited COL3A1 gene testing for vascular Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome." He looked at the team. They understood how bad the diagnosis was. The average life expectancy was not very high. Not to mention the lifestyle changes she would have to make. "Start her on beta-blockers to control her blood pressure and monitor it. And set up consults from the required doctors. She will need a whole team of them if she wants to stay alive."

They all hurried to do the needful and House walked into his office and sat on his Eames chair. He could still solve the medical mystery. He wasn't completely pathetic. He lifted his leg up. It was hurting more than usual, which wasn't really surprising. He was tensed which caused his muscles to tense up too. He had spent the night on his couch. He had barely eaten anything last night. Resting his head on the chair, he wondered what he could do.

Maybe an apology wasn't a bad idea. He could apologize for being a jerk last night. She was right, after all. She didn't have to tell him anything she didn't want to. And he would try to keep his childhood stories to himself. She didn't need to hear them. Yes. That sounded right. He would go to her place this evening. A part of him wanted to talk to her as soon as possible but he figured having this conversation in the workplace would just make her angrier. He didn't want to do that. He could be better. He would be better.

Cuddy sighed, groaning as her body ached. She had barely slept last night. She was irritated this morning. She had back-to-back meetings. She wanted to talk to House. She wanted to go home. She wanted a damn break. She sighed again.

After House had left her place, first she had been angry at him. Why couldn't he give her space? Then she had been angry at herself. Why couldn't she communicate? Then she had been angry at Wilson. Why did he have to act all knowing? The more she thought about it, the more she felt guilty. House was trying. He was opening up to her. Why couldn't she do the same? Why was she so scared of being vulnerable with him? Why was she so scared of letting him see her fears?

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.

She was a fool. He had confessed his love for her, and she was busy doubting it and everything they had because of something Wilson said. What did Wilson know? They hadn't told him about their relationship. God Lisa, don't mess this up. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to House, requesting him to meet her after work. He replied promptly, promising to arrive after seven. She decided to order pizza for them. It was his favourite after all.

When she arrived at her place, Rachel was crying. Cuddy unlocked the door and walked in. She hurriedly changed her clothes and freshened up before going to the nursery. Marina was sitting on the rocking chair with Rachel. Cuddy took the baby from her, moving sideways in an attempt to sooth her baby girl. "Has she been fed?" she asked Marina.

"Yes. I think she just wants you," Marina said, looking fondly at Rachel. Her cries were calming down. Cuddy dropped a kiss on her baby's forehead. "Are you alright? You look like you haven't slept?"

"I am fine. I - didn't get much sleep last night," Cuddy answered. Or at all. "It's okay, Marina. I am fine."

"I will go home then," she said. "Bye Rachel. I'll see you tomorrow."

Marina left and Cuddy was alone with her daughter. "What is it, baby girl?" Cuddy asked, walking to the living room. She settled on the couch. "Did you miss me?" Rachel gurgled and Cuddy kissed her. "Mama loves you." Rachel gurgled again. "Yes. I do. I love you so much." She rocked Rachel and kept talking to her. She loved this life. She had a beautiful daughter and a wonderful boyfriend. Yes, they were having a misunderstanding but even then, she loved it. She loved knowing that she could call him hers. Why on earth had she allowed Wilson's words to affect her?

Rachel fell asleep a little before seven. Cuddy laid her down in the crib and switched off the lights, leaving just the night light on. She ordered half meat-half veggie pizza, and then waited for House. She had barely seen him during the day, having stayed busy with her meetings. Hearing the sound of his bike, Cuddy hurried to the door, wanting to greet him as soon as he was here. She watched him get off the bike and limp to the steps. He was leaning a little extra on his cane. His leg was hurting more than usual. She abruptly realized that she had understood his pain levels without even asking him.

He met her at the door and she kissed him on his lips. He kissed back but she could tell that he was holding back. All of this was bothering him. His eyes were guarded. He had his shields up. She sighed, feeling like crap. She had undoubtedly hurt him. She kissed him again before moving so that he could enter.

"Kid asleep?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered. "Pizza should be here soon. Do you want something to drink?" She had walked into the living room and he had followed her.
"No," he answered.

"Greg," she began but was interrupted.

"I am sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have forced you to talk last night. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I am sorry."

Cuddy felt as if he had practiced that sentence before coming to her place. She felt miserable. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed but he was House. He pushed. That was how he was. She didn't want him to apologize for being himself.

"Greg, I am sorry. I - I was scared. Part of me still is. And I took it out on you," she told him. He was looking at her, a hint of curiosity on his face. He didn't ask, not for a minute or so.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Of losing you," she answered truthfully. His shoulders relaxed a little. She wondered why her fear eased him but didn't question. "You have been doing your clinic duty. I didn't even have to ask you once."

"Wilson keeps wanting to talk about Stacy. I know he won't bring up my leg in front of strangers," he answered.

Of course! That made so much sense. "I didn't know that. I thought you were doing it because you felt that it would make me happy or something."

"So, you are upset because I worked at the clinic. Normally, it is because I didn't."

"I didn't say I was being logical." She covered the distance between them and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her. She could feel some tension leaving their bodies. "Then yesterday, Wilson came to talk to me. He wanted my help to convince you to talk to Stacy." House groaned. "I refused. He was disappointed and then he told me that according to him, Stacy was the perfect woman for you."

"And you believed him?" he asked, exasperated.

She pulled back and gestured him to sit down. As soon as he was sitting, she snuggled up against him. His warmth helped her calm down a little. "I have always been a little insecure over your past with Stacy." House gave her a look. "She was with you when you were in pain. She got to hold your hand. I -"

"And she left," House pointed out.

"I know. I told that to Wilson even," she told him. "Then he said that and I - it hurt. He is your best friend. He knows you."

"So do you. You know me better. You -" He looked away. She could see a humourless smile on his face.

"I am not doubting you. I am just telling you about my insecurity. You have always been comfortable with her. And that always made me a little uncomfortable. She got to call you Greg. I was jealous. Still am. I had to watch you suffer and I never got to hold you."

"You held me when I woke up from the coma," he reminded her. He shook his head. "I - loved her. But that was past. When she came back with Mark, I was just trying to hold what I could. Whatever we had is over. I don't know what to say to convince you."

"You don't have to convince me, Greg. I am not doubting you. I know you love me. I know you trust me. I just don't know how to deal with everything. I am afraid that I will let our professional relationship affect our personal one. I am afraid that I will not notice your pain like before, or that I will push you away by drawing too much attention to it."

"You are an idiot," House said. Cuddy pouted at him. "You are. You are jealous of a woman who believed that I will be fine after she oh so easily took away pieces of my leg. She expected me to just move on from that. And left when she realized I couldn't."

"I was the one who took away pieces of your leg," Cuddy whispered, the old guilt resurfacing.

"No," he said firmly. "You were the doctor. You did exactly what I would have done. She was my girlfriend. She was supposed to know what I wanted. Yeah! She saved my life but she also subjected me to this." He pointed at his cane. "She left, Lisa. You stayed. You stayed even when Wilson left. And when he told you that she is perfect for me, he was not taking you into consideration."

Cuddy leaned in and captured his lips into hers. God! She loved this man. Why had they waited so long for this? And why was she thinking about this stuff instead of enjoying the kiss. Her hands reached his cheek, pulling him closer. His hands slipped under her top. She moaned as she felt his fingers on her back.

The doorbell rang, breaking them apart. They groaned. "It must be the pizza," she said.

"I am hungry for something else," he replied. She shivered at his words and his gaze, but left him alone to get the pizza. When she came back, he took the pizza from her and put it on the coffee table, and then pulled her into his laps. She adjusted her weight, ensuring she wasn't putting pressure on his right leg. "I love it when you call me Greg," he whispered into her ears, before kissing her.

The rest of the evening was spent making out, eating, taking care of Rachel, and making out some more. "Stay the night," Cuddy told him. He gave her a sexy smile. "God! You are addictive," she moaned. His entire demeanor changed within seconds. She pulled back, looking at him. "Did I say something wrong?"

He was fighting himself over whether or not to answer her question. "You sure you don't mind knowing?" he asked, after a while.

"Greg, I want to know everything about you. No matter how small or how big."

"I thought you might not want to know -"

"I do. I want to know everything. Every part of you that you would share, I want it."

He kissed her again. "Can we go to the bed first? Easier to hold you." She nodded, knowing that snuggling on the couch wasn't exactly easy on his leg. They went to the bedroom, after locking the doors. He sat against the headboard and she sat between his legs. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. "Stacy said that to me. Told me I was like vindaloo curry." She listened as he explained the conversation.

"You are not vindaloo curry, whatever that is supposed to be," she protested. He gave a weak chuckle. "You are like mac and cheese. You bring me comfort. You are where my heart has always been. Where it always will be."

"Not many people would say that about me," he quipped.

She turned to glare at him. "They are idiots. I don't have to pretend with you. I - You are not intimidated by my position. You are the one I tell everything. Or the one from whom I hide things, knowing you'll still find out." He chuckled a bit.

"You are like music," he said. "You calm me. You ground me. You are the one person I know I can trust and I know will trust me. Wilson would too but he - you are different. You are home, Lisa."

She swore she had never heard something more beautiful.

Hope you are enjoying the story. Thank you for the reviews and follows :)