Fear of Fire Leaves You Cold, Chapter 4.1
Title: Fear of Fire Leaves You Cold, Chapter 4
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17
Characters: House, Cuddy, Rachel Cuddy, Wilson, Arlene, Julia, etc.
Author's Note: Since this piece is set post "Moving On," there are spoilers for that episode. Also please note that, while I plan on making this House/Cuddy, it's not going to be a quick thing. Given what House has done, it will take a while to work through all of those issues. If you're looking for an easy happy ending, this isn't the piece for you. Some chapters are split for length. These next few chapters were written for harvesttime88 for the help_lisa auction.
Warning: This fic contains sex. This chapter marks the beginning of a few appearances from Dominika (her name is only mentioned at the end in this chapter). She plays a small part in this fic but one that I feel is necessary in addressing House’s behavior. Her presence will not be gratuitous, and the tone of those scenes will be different than those involving her in season 7 and, from what I’m told, season 8. Still I’m including this warning, because I know she’s a controversial character, and I don’t want anyone to be taken by surprise.
Summary: After House crashes his car through Cuddy's home, both strive to rebuild their lives and deal with the consequences of their broken relationship.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part 1), Chapter 2 (Part 2), Chapter 3
Disclaimer: The show is not mine.
“I needed you, and you weren’t there.” The fact not accusation presented, he bowed his head without any defense. “You weren’t there, because you were getting high.” She started to cry, the anguish so deeply felt that she was surprised how clearly she could say, “You scared me. I loved you, and you did this to me.”
When he apologized, she knew it was a dream.
Cuddy watched him repeat how sorry he was and herself believing him.
The things he said were unmemorable: “I am so sorry Cuddy.”
“I love you.”
“I was scared,” followed by an explanation she never would have believed in real life.
And again - “I love you.”
She didn’t question him, kissed him, and that was why this couldn’t be real. It would never be, as it had never been, this easy. This conversation would never happen, but if it did, it would take more than the display in front of her to forgive.
And just like that, Cuddy woke up.
It was still dark out, a clock telling her it was just four in the morning. She didn’t bother deluding herself with tales of time differences waking her up. It was because of the dream, still vivid in her mind. The vestiges of consciousness couldn’t bear to see him or herself forgive him for what he’d done. That was why she was awake.
For the very same reason, she had no desire to go back to sleep. If House were what awaited her, she would prefer to be up.
It was probably for the best anyway. Even without the bad dream, sleep was less useful to her now that she was back in New Jersey. She wanted to say now that she was home, but she couldn’t, thanks to House. But instead of making her angry, that fact became further proof that being awake, getting things accomplished, was important right now.
Lying in bed, she made a mental note of how her day would go. Shower, get dressed, feed Rachel - those were all the normal tasks she could get through quickly. Then she’d have to make the drive to her mother’s storage unit where all of Cuddy’s possessions were surely being housed since House had gone insane. Maybe she’d get her car washed along the way; Rachel would enjoy the drive through it, and she was a little girl in desperate need of some enjoyment.
Since Fiji hadn’t done that.
At some point of course, Cuddy would have to hand her daughter off. Marina was her first choice (less questions), but Cuddy was prepared to deal with her mother if it meant sparing Rachel the sight of her home. That was something no one should see - the place they lived in destroyed. Cuddy could attest to that personally. But she especially wanted to spare her daughter that trauma.
And yet going to the house would be a must.
By now Arlene would have hired and supervised the beginning stages of a renovation. But as grateful as she was, Cuddy wanted to make sure the repair plans were suitable. Now that she had intentions of selling the place, it was even more important that things were handled properly.
After that, she wasn’t sure what she should do. Part of being nearly murdered was that there were so many loose ends to tie: people to reassure and apologize to, work to catch up on, and obligations to fulfill. And the truth was she didn’t have the heart for any of it.
If not for her pride, she would have been content to hide. If not for Rachel, she would have been willing to sit back and let this kill her.
In her head, it sounded overly dramatic.
In her heart, she knew it wasn’t.
There weren’t words to describe what he had done to her, how wrong it was. To say it was awful was an understatement. To say that he had betrayed her didn’t even begin to encompass what had happened. Because aside from the violence of the act, there was added insult in House being the person who appeared in the wreckage. That, of all the people capable of such terror, he was the one to do it made the whole event so much worse. He was supposed to be the one person who would never do that to her.
Even after they’d broken up, she’d never thought it would be this bad. She’d thought that the relationship (she hesitated to describe it as a friendship) they’d had before dating would be enough to smooth over any hurt feelings. She’d thought he’d cared about her enough for that to happen, because after all they’d experienced together, how could he not want to protect her in the way she had protected him? Well, he’d found a way.
And now… she knew she was supposed to rise above what had happened. That was what people in her situation were expected to do: get back up, continue on, show through their behavior that they knew they were better than the one who had hurt them. Cuddy didn’t doubt that she was superior to him. But as for the rest of it? She didn’t have it in her. The opposite was true in her case, or at least, it would be if she didn’t have Rachel to worry about.
Only because her daughter needed her, Cuddy got out of bed then. For Rachel, she had no choice but to continue.
Cuddy decided to start small: shower. Her muscles had not faired well on the unfamiliar mattress last night, and there was no way she was going to be able to chase after Rachel when she was this stiff. But the hot water didn’t do much to relax Cuddy. Afraid of where her thoughts would end up, she didn’t allow herself to let go. She rigidly went through the process of shampooing her hair, shaving her legs, washing her body. Every step of the way, she focused intently on the act. Making sure she’d rinsed all of the conditioner from her hair hardly required concentration, but it was safer this way. It would keep her numb.
Soon after though, it became apparent that the effort wasn’t necessary; Rachel’s cries came the second Cuddy had finished cleaning herself, and she no longer needed a distraction. The day was now officially started.
Loosely wrapped in a towel, Cuddy hurried to her daughter, who at first glance looked absolutely bewildered by her surroundings.
“Good morning,” she said, quickly scooping Rachel into her arms. “Why’s my little girl up so early?” Cranky and confused, Rachel didn’t say anything. She just buried her face into Cuddy’s still damp shoulder. Cuddy patted her back and told her in a soft, bright voice, “How about we try to go potty? Hmm?” Again there was no answer, but that was to be expected. Rachel was too out of sorts to say yes or no.
That didn’t change for several minutes either. She just allowed herself to be moved from the room and did as her mother told her. Cuddy was tempted to enjoy it, but she knew that the moment wouldn't last long. Besides, around the edges of her quiet demeanor, Rachel displayed signs of irritation. She didn't fight when Cuddy placed her on the toilet, didn't object to having her teeth brushed. But all along the way, her dark blue eyes looked as though they would at any moment burst into tears. Cuddy wasn't sure if that was because of jet lag, exhaustion, or the scene she had witnessed yesterday.
No, she thought as she set Rachel on the bed so Cuddy could dress herself. There was no question about what might be making Rachel sad. It was about House. It had to be. Certainly the time zone and a new hotel to adapt to contributed to the churlishness and sadness Cuddy saw lurking beneath the surface. But those factors were only ones that made witnessing House's arrest that much worse.
And what could she do about that? As Cuddy rummaged through her suitcase for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she knew that she had a limited ability to make Rachel feel better. She could lie about what had happened to House; she could try to placate Rachel in some way. But she couldn't give her daughter what she needed. Rachel wanted to see that House was all right. She wanted to know that her mother wasn't angry with him, that she didn't hate him. Rachel wanted things to be exactly as they had this past winter. That could never happen, however.
Getting dressed, Cuddy understood that that was where the conversation would always have to end. She couldn't let Rachel think reconciliation was a possibility. Yet to insistently dismiss any concerns about House would be just as cruel. Until Rachel could comprehend that House was gone for good, Cuddy would have to be on guard with how she spoke about him in front of Rachel. She couldn't let it become obvious just how much she really did hate the man she'd once welcomed into her home. That would have to be her secret.
Pushing that truth down as far as it would go, she turned back to Rachel who was lightly beating her feet against the mattress beneath her. Forcing herself to smile, Cuddy asked with a smile, "How about we get some breakfast?"
************************************************
Sometime between pancakes and the visit to the storage unit, whatever control Rachel had had over her emotions disappeared. Before, Cuddy had seen Rachel’s frustration, but Rachel had been calm enough. There’d been some momentary whining when breakfast hadn’t come as quickly as she would have liked. Yet it had been nothing compared to the screeching she’d resorted to five minutes into the car ride to the storage unit.
Cuddy had hoped that the car wash would cheer Rachel up, but the brushes rumbling over the car, which normally made Rachel clap with joy, had done nothing for her. By the time Cuddy got to the unit, she’d had enough. The second she parked, her only goal was to stop the crying coming from the back seat.
She didn’t care about getting clothes from storage then. That could wait. Rachel couldn’t, that fact made obvious by the way she practically clamored for Cuddy to take her out of her car seat.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, pulling her red, shaking daughter to her chest. Cuddy held her close and rubbed her back. The gesture didn’t do much for Rachel, but that wasn’t surprising.
On the whole, Rachel was… a remarkably easy child. Whatever issues there’d been with bonding early on, that had been completely Cuddy’s fault. Her daughter couldn’t have been better natured. She was sweet, curious, a little naughty at times. But one thing she had never been was a child who was prone to throwing fits. Obviously there were exceptions to that, like when she’d first started teething. Cuddy wasn’t so doting that she couldn’t see that. For the most part though, Rachel was easy to console when she got upset. All she needed was to be held close and rocked, and eventually, she would calm down. And that meant that if she’d been crying for this long, it would be stupid to think that she would instantly calm down. “It’s okay, Rachel. Shhh. Talk to Mommy. Tell me what’s wrong.”
It didn’t work.
Unsure of what to do, Cuddy sat down on the curb next to the car. The fact that she was trying to comfort her daughter in a parking lot was not lost on her. And even as she searched over Rachel’s tiny body for some clue as to what had happened, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly aware of her surroundings. At any moment, someone could stumble upon her with her whining daughter in her arms. Cuddy didn’t mind being caught as much as she minded being caught without any plan to make Rachel stop.
“Calm down,” she said, trying to get through to Rachel. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”
When that didn’t make the situation any better, it became obvious what the problem was. This wasn’t an injury of some sort, tears that were the result of being pinched by her car seat or anything like that. She didn’t feel sick. The pancakes hadn’t made her nauseous. And while jetlag was a definite possibility, Rachel had slept enough between last night and plane ride to prevent fits like the one she was having. Which left one reason behind her behavior.
House.
It was an obvious reason, one Cuddy didn’t feel stupid for missing until now. In a way, her blindness to the solution was proof that she’d known the answer all along. She didn’t want to talk about him anymore. She didn’t want her daughter to think about him or be sad because of him. In a stunning unintentional act of defiance, Rachel ignored her wishes. And Cuddy hadn’t even considered this the potential source of Rachel’s sadness, because doing so would mean that she had an obligation to try to make Rachel feel better. In service of that obligation, she would have to say things she didn’t mean, make promises to Rachel that she could never keep. None of which would actually ease Rachel’s suffering, because at some point, she would realize House was gone from their lives permanently; she would feel then all of the same sadness she was feeling in this very moment. But it would be worse than that, because then there would be nothing Cuddy could say, no lies to tell, that would appease Rachel. They had been through this once last night. Cuddy wasn’t sure how many more times she could claim that maybe they could see House again some day before Rachel stopped trusting her.
Not wanting that, Cuddy didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. If there were words that could encompass the shock, loss, and betrayal they were both experiencing, if there were a way to take that pain and make everything okay again, she would tell her that. She would tell herself that. That was why she knew the right phrase didn’t exist, because Rachel wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance right now.
Without any options, any way out, Cuddy found herself saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
The apology seemed necessary. She had failed her daughter by letting her anywhere near House, and she was failing her now by putting her in a predicament Cuddy couldn’t make any better. Not for a second did she believe that this would make any of that any easier. “I’m sorry” couldn’t fix this mess.
It was no surprise then that it didn’t. Rachel continued to cry for at least another five long minutes. Selfishly Cuddy wished this were a tantrum, something that could be stopped easily. But Rachel wasn’t throwing a fit; her tears were ones of mourning, and as such, it meant that Cuddy could only sit back and wait for Rachel to calm down.
Eventually the crying ebbed. Cuddy understood that it could start up again at any time. Every time they’d been in the car since returning to New Jersey, Rachel had gotten upset. Maybe that was because one of the last times she’d seen House, he had been bleeding in the back seat of one. But then again, that might have been reading into Rachel’s behavior, and either way, the cause didn’t matter. Even if the problem was the car, Rachel couldn’t travel by foot for the rest of her life. She would have to deal with driving - and Cuddy would have to deal with whatever emotional response that might provoke in her daughter.
“Feel a little bit better?” Cuddy asked gently, not wanting to think about how much longer this might go on. Rachel didn’t answer. “All right. Let’s get some of Mommy’s things from storage.”
Not surprisingly Rachel didn’t get excited, but she allowed herself to be carried to the garage door.
“I need to put you down so I can get the keys.”
Rachel shook her head. “No.”
“You want Mommy to hold you?” Her answer was to cling to Cuddy, and Cuddy didn’t have the heart to put her on her feet. “Okay, all right. Can you help me find my keys?” Rachel nodded her head a little. “Thank you. Mommy’s little helper,” Cuddy said kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Can you put your hand in my purse? See if you can find something that feels like keys.”
It took a moment for Rachel to get the hang of it, but once she did, it quickly became a game for Rachel. Rummaging through Cuddy’s purse, she started to enjoy the mystery of trying to pull out the storage key that Cuddy always kept in the bottom of her bag. The moment, of course, couldn’t last.
When they got into the unit, Cuddy realized that her mother had been particularly industrial the past week. Before her was not just the most valuable things and clothing; her mom had put everything into storage. Cuddy knew that made sense; she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, as it would have been stupid to leave things in the house. Nevertheless, she hadn’t anticipated stepping into the room and seeing all of Rachel’s belongings - her crib, her toys, even the rocking chair - crammed and left to the side.
Neither had Rachel.
“My toys!” was all she managed to say before the tears returned.
************************************************
By the time Cuddy got to the hospital, she was relieved to have left Rachel behind. It was terrible to think this, but Cuddy needed a break from all the crying. She didn’t doubt that this was hard for her daughter; it was, especially since Rachel had little understanding of what it meant to move and why it was happening. But this wasn’t exactly easy for Cuddy either. And watching her daughter go from a sweet and sunny child to one who was sad and confused made it all the more difficult to handle, made it harder to believe that this was something she could overcome. Rachel needed her for comfort, but that need wore Cuddy down quickly. Frankly, she was happy to leave Rachel with Marina and even happier to have work as a distraction.
As wrong as it seemed, Cuddy knew that she would be of no use if she’d stayed with Rachel. That dynamic was disheartening and swiftly becoming too much for her. She needed to step away. She needed to give Rachel someone who genuinely believed and could convey that everything would be all right. And maybe if Cuddy focused on her job long enough, she could come to believe that as well.
It seemed odd to think that. The second she stepped into the hospital, with every inch of the building steeped in memories of House, it seemed counterintuitive that this would be the one place she thought would provide a distraction. But the regular chaos of the hospital made escape possible, because she was immediately ambushed with questions to answer and tasks to complete.
“Peds is requesting extra security. I thought you were on vacation,” Regina said, leaving her post behind the nurse’s desk to greet Cuddy.
“Vacation’s over. Why are they asking you for -”
“They seem to think I’m your assistant and that if they pester me enough, I’ll make sure you give them what you want.” Regina reached back and grabbed several pieces of paper and a few folders. “Messages, plans waiting your approval, invitation to join the board next week for a meeting.”
Cuddy raised an eyebrow. “An invitation?”
As they walked to her office, Regina suggested sarcastically, “You could decline, I’m sure.”
“That would go over well.” Cuddy unlocked the doors to her office. “Thank you.”
Regina hesitated to leave, even though she must have realized she had permission. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“You’re not my assistant.”
“No. But you look tired, and diagnostics is a mess.”
“I know,” Cuddy said darkly.
“Between you and me, I’m all for letting them kill one another. But that’s a lot of blood to clean up.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
This time the dismissal wasn’t optional, and Regina knew it. “Okay. I’ll get you that cup of coffee… and let peds know -”
“Have them send someone down to explain the situation. I’m not gonna just sign off on that.”
“Will do” was all she said before she left.
Alone Cuddy slowly sunk into her desk chair. She didn’t allow herself a moment to take in how different things would be. She just got to work. She waded her way through the stack of messages and files left for her with efficiency, without stopping to think about anything other than what was in front of her.
Only when she was finished did she even consider the diagnostics department. And even then, she refused to look back. There needed to be a new head, she told herself. The why didn’t matter.
Fifteen minutes later she was informing her choice of his promotion. “The department’s yours,” she said dispassionately. “You can keep who you want or fire them. Doesn’t matter.”
It was a good thing Chase was seated. He looked as though he were ready to faint. “You’re giving it to me?” His voice squeaked as he tried to make sure that this wasn’t a prank.
Cuddy wasn’t in the mood to reassure him, no matter how sweetly boyish he looked. “Yes.”
He shifted in the chair. “You’re not -”
“House is gone.” She refused to let herself feel anything when she said it.
Smartly he didn’t question her on that point. “And Foreman?”
“He’s a good doctor,” she said with a nod. “But he’s had several chances to prove that he’s ready to lead a department. I’m not satisfied that he can. I’m also unsure why you’re interested in my reasons.”
Chase shrugged. “I’m just surprised is all. Pleased but I wasn’t expecting this.”
“I don’t have a patient for you yet, but you can take your team and see if you can find someone in the hospital.”
She could see that this suggestion made him happy. The idea of having his own team, the fact that he was now in charge - those things hadn’t been real for him until she had spoken to him like a department head. The change was undeniable for him then, and the smile on his face spoke to his open appreciation for the promotion.
“Thank you,” he said almost sheepishly. “I won’t disappoint -”
“I’ll submit the paperwork to H.R. to make it official.”
“Great.” He stood up to leave but hesitated, didn’t move. Cautiously he asked, “If I’m taking over, am I required to handle any unfinished business?” He must have realized how vague he sounded, because he sighed. Care abandoned, he put it more bluntly. “House was behind on submitting just about every kind of form there is.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
His face screwed up in confusion. “I don’t think that’s possible. There are insurance -”
“You don’t have to worry about it,” she interrupted. “I’ll have someone come box House’s personal belongings up, and when that happens, I’ll take any files he still has squirreled away.”
“You’re okay with that?”
Chase was being sweet, but she didn’t appreciate his kindness. After everything, she could handle going through House’s files. She was used to cleaning up his messes.
“I am. Go back to work.”
Outwardly she was firm, undistracted by the complications House’s choices had created. In that moment, Chase had no choice but to leave. And for the rest of the day, the façade seemed convincing. The more she played the part, the easier it was to believe that she was going to be fine - that she was fine. After a while, her employees stopped looking at her as though she needed their pity. They could see she would not tolerate that.
But she took it a step too far.
She started to believe her own act. Between denying pediatrics their request and treating patients, Cuddy began to feel immune to the actions of the previous week. Work gave her an outlet. Completely in control of the hospital, she found it easy to forget how powerless she really was. Eventually full of bravado, she made the choice to help the janitors clean House’s desk. They would never recognize everything that needed to be saved and what should have been sent to his home. No matter how good of a job they did, there would still mix-ups. She told herself it would be easier this way.
But there was nothing simple about this.
Having waited until Chase and his team went home, Cuddy hesitated to enter the office. In front of it now, she wasn’t sure she could go in. The room was dark. Even as the lights remained on, she thought it seemed so ominous.
The memories contained in that space had been warming at one point. But in light of House’s actions, those past events left her cold. Every inch of that office had some fragment of an event etched into the fabric, into the paint, the glass. A desk they’d once shared, the white board she’d once used, the things they’d talked about, and the kisses they’d shared - there was no place to go in the room where she wouldn’t be overwhelmed.
And yet she didn’t have the option to leave. She had said she would help. As the janitorial staff came with cardboard boxes and large trash bins in hand, she knew she would have to go inside. Cuddy just hoped her reluctance didn’t show, prayed that her voice didn’t quiver when she explained, “We’ll box all of his personal belongings and ship them to his home. Any medical files you find, anything that looks like it might relate to patient care, need to be set aside for me to take. Books on the shelves all go. If you’re not sure about an item belonging to him, we’ll put it in the fellows’ office for them to verify who owns the item. Understood?”
No one questioned her. No one tried to sympathize with her or cheer her up. Everyone was cordial but diligent, and getting the job done was all anyone cared about, Cuddy included. For the men cleaning with her, they just wanted to finish so they could focus on their normal duties. For her, the sooner this was done, the sooner she could leave his office.
Still she did her best to avoid House’s personal belongings, sticking to the books he had on the shelves instead. It was safer to stick to the texts that could have belonged to anyone. It was less personal, less of a reminder of the man she knew… thought she knew.
She didn’t question that she was making the right choice. House had tenure, but it wouldn’t be hard to convince the board to fire him. And even if they resisted, once he was in prison, the choice would be made for them. They couldn’t employ someone who would never have a medical license again. The only way all of this possibly could be avoided was if she were to convince the police not to press charges, and even then she wasn’t sure if that would work. She didn’t want it to though. Logistics and legalities aside, House’s behavior wasn’t forgivable. She could defend and protect him from a lot of things, but this was too much. She didn’t have any doubt about that.
Some part of her must have though. As she half-heartedly stuffed books into a box, as the cleaning crew sifted through the considerable contents of his desk, she wondered if this was truly the right thing.
Of course it was. She knew that. She couldn’t trust him with patients after what he had done to her. This was right, she reminded herself. But… it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The janitors were placing trinkets, odds, and ends into a box next to her, and a glimpse of the rubber bands and toy figurines made Cuddy think for a moment that she did know House. She knew the drawer he kept his glasses in, the way his fingers might nervously pluck at his oversized tennis ball or link together paper clips. She knew when he was listening to her and when he was merely pretending to, how his laugh sometimes got caught in a rare smile, the noise becoming raspy with air. The lines of his body, the scars, the warm fingertips that would gently stroke her while they were trying to sleep, the precise shade his eyes became when he realized something - all those parts of him had become a part of her. Surrounded by familiarity, she was reminded of how deep their connection was.
Had been.
She couldn’t believe there was anything between them still. But memories of what they’d had gave her pause. They made her feel like she was betraying him. She was, admittedly, in a way; she was turning her back on everything they had worked together to create. He had taken the first step away from her, but she was now running in the other direction as well. He had left her with nowhere else to go. She had no other option. In his office, his former office though, she couldn’t help but wish things had been different.
If only it weren’t like this.
She didn’t break under the weight of the thought. It might have been tempting, but the last thing she would allow was for her employees to see her upset. She’d crossed that line before with House. She’d let him into her personal life. She wouldn’t do that again.
When they’d finished sifting through everything in the office, Cuddy cordially thanked them and left without saying goodbye.
Continue on to the rest of the chapter
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17
Characters: House, Cuddy, Rachel Cuddy, Wilson, Arlene, Julia, etc.
Author's Note: Since this piece is set post "Moving On," there are spoilers for that episode. Also please note that, while I plan on making this House/Cuddy, it's not going to be a quick thing. Given what House has done, it will take a while to work through all of those issues. If you're looking for an easy happy ending, this isn't the piece for you. Some chapters are split for length. These next few chapters were written for harvesttime88 for the help_lisa auction.
Warning: This fic contains sex. This chapter marks the beginning of a few appearances from Dominika (her name is only mentioned at the end in this chapter). She plays a small part in this fic but one that I feel is necessary in addressing House’s behavior. Her presence will not be gratuitous, and the tone of those scenes will be different than those involving her in season 7 and, from what I’m told, season 8. Still I’m including this warning, because I know she’s a controversial character, and I don’t want anyone to be taken by surprise.
Summary: After House crashes his car through Cuddy's home, both strive to rebuild their lives and deal with the consequences of their broken relationship.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part 1), Chapter 2 (Part 2), Chapter 3
Disclaimer: The show is not mine.
“I needed you, and you weren’t there.” The fact not accusation presented, he bowed his head without any defense. “You weren’t there, because you were getting high.” She started to cry, the anguish so deeply felt that she was surprised how clearly she could say, “You scared me. I loved you, and you did this to me.”
When he apologized, she knew it was a dream.
Cuddy watched him repeat how sorry he was and herself believing him.
The things he said were unmemorable: “I am so sorry Cuddy.”
“I love you.”
“I was scared,” followed by an explanation she never would have believed in real life.
And again - “I love you.”
She didn’t question him, kissed him, and that was why this couldn’t be real. It would never be, as it had never been, this easy. This conversation would never happen, but if it did, it would take more than the display in front of her to forgive.
And just like that, Cuddy woke up.
It was still dark out, a clock telling her it was just four in the morning. She didn’t bother deluding herself with tales of time differences waking her up. It was because of the dream, still vivid in her mind. The vestiges of consciousness couldn’t bear to see him or herself forgive him for what he’d done. That was why she was awake.
For the very same reason, she had no desire to go back to sleep. If House were what awaited her, she would prefer to be up.
It was probably for the best anyway. Even without the bad dream, sleep was less useful to her now that she was back in New Jersey. She wanted to say now that she was home, but she couldn’t, thanks to House. But instead of making her angry, that fact became further proof that being awake, getting things accomplished, was important right now.
Lying in bed, she made a mental note of how her day would go. Shower, get dressed, feed Rachel - those were all the normal tasks she could get through quickly. Then she’d have to make the drive to her mother’s storage unit where all of Cuddy’s possessions were surely being housed since House had gone insane. Maybe she’d get her car washed along the way; Rachel would enjoy the drive through it, and she was a little girl in desperate need of some enjoyment.
Since Fiji hadn’t done that.
At some point of course, Cuddy would have to hand her daughter off. Marina was her first choice (less questions), but Cuddy was prepared to deal with her mother if it meant sparing Rachel the sight of her home. That was something no one should see - the place they lived in destroyed. Cuddy could attest to that personally. But she especially wanted to spare her daughter that trauma.
And yet going to the house would be a must.
By now Arlene would have hired and supervised the beginning stages of a renovation. But as grateful as she was, Cuddy wanted to make sure the repair plans were suitable. Now that she had intentions of selling the place, it was even more important that things were handled properly.
After that, she wasn’t sure what she should do. Part of being nearly murdered was that there were so many loose ends to tie: people to reassure and apologize to, work to catch up on, and obligations to fulfill. And the truth was she didn’t have the heart for any of it.
If not for her pride, she would have been content to hide. If not for Rachel, she would have been willing to sit back and let this kill her.
In her head, it sounded overly dramatic.
In her heart, she knew it wasn’t.
There weren’t words to describe what he had done to her, how wrong it was. To say it was awful was an understatement. To say that he had betrayed her didn’t even begin to encompass what had happened. Because aside from the violence of the act, there was added insult in House being the person who appeared in the wreckage. That, of all the people capable of such terror, he was the one to do it made the whole event so much worse. He was supposed to be the one person who would never do that to her.
Even after they’d broken up, she’d never thought it would be this bad. She’d thought that the relationship (she hesitated to describe it as a friendship) they’d had before dating would be enough to smooth over any hurt feelings. She’d thought he’d cared about her enough for that to happen, because after all they’d experienced together, how could he not want to protect her in the way she had protected him? Well, he’d found a way.
And now… she knew she was supposed to rise above what had happened. That was what people in her situation were expected to do: get back up, continue on, show through their behavior that they knew they were better than the one who had hurt them. Cuddy didn’t doubt that she was superior to him. But as for the rest of it? She didn’t have it in her. The opposite was true in her case, or at least, it would be if she didn’t have Rachel to worry about.
Only because her daughter needed her, Cuddy got out of bed then. For Rachel, she had no choice but to continue.
Cuddy decided to start small: shower. Her muscles had not faired well on the unfamiliar mattress last night, and there was no way she was going to be able to chase after Rachel when she was this stiff. But the hot water didn’t do much to relax Cuddy. Afraid of where her thoughts would end up, she didn’t allow herself to let go. She rigidly went through the process of shampooing her hair, shaving her legs, washing her body. Every step of the way, she focused intently on the act. Making sure she’d rinsed all of the conditioner from her hair hardly required concentration, but it was safer this way. It would keep her numb.
Soon after though, it became apparent that the effort wasn’t necessary; Rachel’s cries came the second Cuddy had finished cleaning herself, and she no longer needed a distraction. The day was now officially started.
Loosely wrapped in a towel, Cuddy hurried to her daughter, who at first glance looked absolutely bewildered by her surroundings.
“Good morning,” she said, quickly scooping Rachel into her arms. “Why’s my little girl up so early?” Cranky and confused, Rachel didn’t say anything. She just buried her face into Cuddy’s still damp shoulder. Cuddy patted her back and told her in a soft, bright voice, “How about we try to go potty? Hmm?” Again there was no answer, but that was to be expected. Rachel was too out of sorts to say yes or no.
That didn’t change for several minutes either. She just allowed herself to be moved from the room and did as her mother told her. Cuddy was tempted to enjoy it, but she knew that the moment wouldn't last long. Besides, around the edges of her quiet demeanor, Rachel displayed signs of irritation. She didn't fight when Cuddy placed her on the toilet, didn't object to having her teeth brushed. But all along the way, her dark blue eyes looked as though they would at any moment burst into tears. Cuddy wasn't sure if that was because of jet lag, exhaustion, or the scene she had witnessed yesterday.
No, she thought as she set Rachel on the bed so Cuddy could dress herself. There was no question about what might be making Rachel sad. It was about House. It had to be. Certainly the time zone and a new hotel to adapt to contributed to the churlishness and sadness Cuddy saw lurking beneath the surface. But those factors were only ones that made witnessing House's arrest that much worse.
And what could she do about that? As Cuddy rummaged through her suitcase for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she knew that she had a limited ability to make Rachel feel better. She could lie about what had happened to House; she could try to placate Rachel in some way. But she couldn't give her daughter what she needed. Rachel wanted to see that House was all right. She wanted to know that her mother wasn't angry with him, that she didn't hate him. Rachel wanted things to be exactly as they had this past winter. That could never happen, however.
Getting dressed, Cuddy understood that that was where the conversation would always have to end. She couldn't let Rachel think reconciliation was a possibility. Yet to insistently dismiss any concerns about House would be just as cruel. Until Rachel could comprehend that House was gone for good, Cuddy would have to be on guard with how she spoke about him in front of Rachel. She couldn't let it become obvious just how much she really did hate the man she'd once welcomed into her home. That would have to be her secret.
Pushing that truth down as far as it would go, she turned back to Rachel who was lightly beating her feet against the mattress beneath her. Forcing herself to smile, Cuddy asked with a smile, "How about we get some breakfast?"
************************************************
Sometime between pancakes and the visit to the storage unit, whatever control Rachel had had over her emotions disappeared. Before, Cuddy had seen Rachel’s frustration, but Rachel had been calm enough. There’d been some momentary whining when breakfast hadn’t come as quickly as she would have liked. Yet it had been nothing compared to the screeching she’d resorted to five minutes into the car ride to the storage unit.
Cuddy had hoped that the car wash would cheer Rachel up, but the brushes rumbling over the car, which normally made Rachel clap with joy, had done nothing for her. By the time Cuddy got to the unit, she’d had enough. The second she parked, her only goal was to stop the crying coming from the back seat.
She didn’t care about getting clothes from storage then. That could wait. Rachel couldn’t, that fact made obvious by the way she practically clamored for Cuddy to take her out of her car seat.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, pulling her red, shaking daughter to her chest. Cuddy held her close and rubbed her back. The gesture didn’t do much for Rachel, but that wasn’t surprising.
On the whole, Rachel was… a remarkably easy child. Whatever issues there’d been with bonding early on, that had been completely Cuddy’s fault. Her daughter couldn’t have been better natured. She was sweet, curious, a little naughty at times. But one thing she had never been was a child who was prone to throwing fits. Obviously there were exceptions to that, like when she’d first started teething. Cuddy wasn’t so doting that she couldn’t see that. For the most part though, Rachel was easy to console when she got upset. All she needed was to be held close and rocked, and eventually, she would calm down. And that meant that if she’d been crying for this long, it would be stupid to think that she would instantly calm down. “It’s okay, Rachel. Shhh. Talk to Mommy. Tell me what’s wrong.”
It didn’t work.
Unsure of what to do, Cuddy sat down on the curb next to the car. The fact that she was trying to comfort her daughter in a parking lot was not lost on her. And even as she searched over Rachel’s tiny body for some clue as to what had happened, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly aware of her surroundings. At any moment, someone could stumble upon her with her whining daughter in her arms. Cuddy didn’t mind being caught as much as she minded being caught without any plan to make Rachel stop.
“Calm down,” she said, trying to get through to Rachel. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”
When that didn’t make the situation any better, it became obvious what the problem was. This wasn’t an injury of some sort, tears that were the result of being pinched by her car seat or anything like that. She didn’t feel sick. The pancakes hadn’t made her nauseous. And while jetlag was a definite possibility, Rachel had slept enough between last night and plane ride to prevent fits like the one she was having. Which left one reason behind her behavior.
House.
It was an obvious reason, one Cuddy didn’t feel stupid for missing until now. In a way, her blindness to the solution was proof that she’d known the answer all along. She didn’t want to talk about him anymore. She didn’t want her daughter to think about him or be sad because of him. In a stunning unintentional act of defiance, Rachel ignored her wishes. And Cuddy hadn’t even considered this the potential source of Rachel’s sadness, because doing so would mean that she had an obligation to try to make Rachel feel better. In service of that obligation, she would have to say things she didn’t mean, make promises to Rachel that she could never keep. None of which would actually ease Rachel’s suffering, because at some point, she would realize House was gone from their lives permanently; she would feel then all of the same sadness she was feeling in this very moment. But it would be worse than that, because then there would be nothing Cuddy could say, no lies to tell, that would appease Rachel. They had been through this once last night. Cuddy wasn’t sure how many more times she could claim that maybe they could see House again some day before Rachel stopped trusting her.
Not wanting that, Cuddy didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. If there were words that could encompass the shock, loss, and betrayal they were both experiencing, if there were a way to take that pain and make everything okay again, she would tell her that. She would tell herself that. That was why she knew the right phrase didn’t exist, because Rachel wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance right now.
Without any options, any way out, Cuddy found herself saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
The apology seemed necessary. She had failed her daughter by letting her anywhere near House, and she was failing her now by putting her in a predicament Cuddy couldn’t make any better. Not for a second did she believe that this would make any of that any easier. “I’m sorry” couldn’t fix this mess.
It was no surprise then that it didn’t. Rachel continued to cry for at least another five long minutes. Selfishly Cuddy wished this were a tantrum, something that could be stopped easily. But Rachel wasn’t throwing a fit; her tears were ones of mourning, and as such, it meant that Cuddy could only sit back and wait for Rachel to calm down.
Eventually the crying ebbed. Cuddy understood that it could start up again at any time. Every time they’d been in the car since returning to New Jersey, Rachel had gotten upset. Maybe that was because one of the last times she’d seen House, he had been bleeding in the back seat of one. But then again, that might have been reading into Rachel’s behavior, and either way, the cause didn’t matter. Even if the problem was the car, Rachel couldn’t travel by foot for the rest of her life. She would have to deal with driving - and Cuddy would have to deal with whatever emotional response that might provoke in her daughter.
“Feel a little bit better?” Cuddy asked gently, not wanting to think about how much longer this might go on. Rachel didn’t answer. “All right. Let’s get some of Mommy’s things from storage.”
Not surprisingly Rachel didn’t get excited, but she allowed herself to be carried to the garage door.
“I need to put you down so I can get the keys.”
Rachel shook her head. “No.”
“You want Mommy to hold you?” Her answer was to cling to Cuddy, and Cuddy didn’t have the heart to put her on her feet. “Okay, all right. Can you help me find my keys?” Rachel nodded her head a little. “Thank you. Mommy’s little helper,” Cuddy said kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Can you put your hand in my purse? See if you can find something that feels like keys.”
It took a moment for Rachel to get the hang of it, but once she did, it quickly became a game for Rachel. Rummaging through Cuddy’s purse, she started to enjoy the mystery of trying to pull out the storage key that Cuddy always kept in the bottom of her bag. The moment, of course, couldn’t last.
When they got into the unit, Cuddy realized that her mother had been particularly industrial the past week. Before her was not just the most valuable things and clothing; her mom had put everything into storage. Cuddy knew that made sense; she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, as it would have been stupid to leave things in the house. Nevertheless, she hadn’t anticipated stepping into the room and seeing all of Rachel’s belongings - her crib, her toys, even the rocking chair - crammed and left to the side.
Neither had Rachel.
“My toys!” was all she managed to say before the tears returned.
************************************************
By the time Cuddy got to the hospital, she was relieved to have left Rachel behind. It was terrible to think this, but Cuddy needed a break from all the crying. She didn’t doubt that this was hard for her daughter; it was, especially since Rachel had little understanding of what it meant to move and why it was happening. But this wasn’t exactly easy for Cuddy either. And watching her daughter go from a sweet and sunny child to one who was sad and confused made it all the more difficult to handle, made it harder to believe that this was something she could overcome. Rachel needed her for comfort, but that need wore Cuddy down quickly. Frankly, she was happy to leave Rachel with Marina and even happier to have work as a distraction.
As wrong as it seemed, Cuddy knew that she would be of no use if she’d stayed with Rachel. That dynamic was disheartening and swiftly becoming too much for her. She needed to step away. She needed to give Rachel someone who genuinely believed and could convey that everything would be all right. And maybe if Cuddy focused on her job long enough, she could come to believe that as well.
It seemed odd to think that. The second she stepped into the hospital, with every inch of the building steeped in memories of House, it seemed counterintuitive that this would be the one place she thought would provide a distraction. But the regular chaos of the hospital made escape possible, because she was immediately ambushed with questions to answer and tasks to complete.
“Peds is requesting extra security. I thought you were on vacation,” Regina said, leaving her post behind the nurse’s desk to greet Cuddy.
“Vacation’s over. Why are they asking you for -”
“They seem to think I’m your assistant and that if they pester me enough, I’ll make sure you give them what you want.” Regina reached back and grabbed several pieces of paper and a few folders. “Messages, plans waiting your approval, invitation to join the board next week for a meeting.”
Cuddy raised an eyebrow. “An invitation?”
As they walked to her office, Regina suggested sarcastically, “You could decline, I’m sure.”
“That would go over well.” Cuddy unlocked the doors to her office. “Thank you.”
Regina hesitated to leave, even though she must have realized she had permission. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“You’re not my assistant.”
“No. But you look tired, and diagnostics is a mess.”
“I know,” Cuddy said darkly.
“Between you and me, I’m all for letting them kill one another. But that’s a lot of blood to clean up.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
This time the dismissal wasn’t optional, and Regina knew it. “Okay. I’ll get you that cup of coffee… and let peds know -”
“Have them send someone down to explain the situation. I’m not gonna just sign off on that.”
“Will do” was all she said before she left.
Alone Cuddy slowly sunk into her desk chair. She didn’t allow herself a moment to take in how different things would be. She just got to work. She waded her way through the stack of messages and files left for her with efficiency, without stopping to think about anything other than what was in front of her.
Only when she was finished did she even consider the diagnostics department. And even then, she refused to look back. There needed to be a new head, she told herself. The why didn’t matter.
Fifteen minutes later she was informing her choice of his promotion. “The department’s yours,” she said dispassionately. “You can keep who you want or fire them. Doesn’t matter.”
It was a good thing Chase was seated. He looked as though he were ready to faint. “You’re giving it to me?” His voice squeaked as he tried to make sure that this wasn’t a prank.
Cuddy wasn’t in the mood to reassure him, no matter how sweetly boyish he looked. “Yes.”
He shifted in the chair. “You’re not -”
“House is gone.” She refused to let herself feel anything when she said it.
Smartly he didn’t question her on that point. “And Foreman?”
“He’s a good doctor,” she said with a nod. “But he’s had several chances to prove that he’s ready to lead a department. I’m not satisfied that he can. I’m also unsure why you’re interested in my reasons.”
Chase shrugged. “I’m just surprised is all. Pleased but I wasn’t expecting this.”
“I don’t have a patient for you yet, but you can take your team and see if you can find someone in the hospital.”
She could see that this suggestion made him happy. The idea of having his own team, the fact that he was now in charge - those things hadn’t been real for him until she had spoken to him like a department head. The change was undeniable for him then, and the smile on his face spoke to his open appreciation for the promotion.
“Thank you,” he said almost sheepishly. “I won’t disappoint -”
“I’ll submit the paperwork to H.R. to make it official.”
“Great.” He stood up to leave but hesitated, didn’t move. Cautiously he asked, “If I’m taking over, am I required to handle any unfinished business?” He must have realized how vague he sounded, because he sighed. Care abandoned, he put it more bluntly. “House was behind on submitting just about every kind of form there is.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
His face screwed up in confusion. “I don’t think that’s possible. There are insurance -”
“You don’t have to worry about it,” she interrupted. “I’ll have someone come box House’s personal belongings up, and when that happens, I’ll take any files he still has squirreled away.”
“You’re okay with that?”
Chase was being sweet, but she didn’t appreciate his kindness. After everything, she could handle going through House’s files. She was used to cleaning up his messes.
“I am. Go back to work.”
Outwardly she was firm, undistracted by the complications House’s choices had created. In that moment, Chase had no choice but to leave. And for the rest of the day, the façade seemed convincing. The more she played the part, the easier it was to believe that she was going to be fine - that she was fine. After a while, her employees stopped looking at her as though she needed their pity. They could see she would not tolerate that.
But she took it a step too far.
She started to believe her own act. Between denying pediatrics their request and treating patients, Cuddy began to feel immune to the actions of the previous week. Work gave her an outlet. Completely in control of the hospital, she found it easy to forget how powerless she really was. Eventually full of bravado, she made the choice to help the janitors clean House’s desk. They would never recognize everything that needed to be saved and what should have been sent to his home. No matter how good of a job they did, there would still mix-ups. She told herself it would be easier this way.
But there was nothing simple about this.
Having waited until Chase and his team went home, Cuddy hesitated to enter the office. In front of it now, she wasn’t sure she could go in. The room was dark. Even as the lights remained on, she thought it seemed so ominous.
The memories contained in that space had been warming at one point. But in light of House’s actions, those past events left her cold. Every inch of that office had some fragment of an event etched into the fabric, into the paint, the glass. A desk they’d once shared, the white board she’d once used, the things they’d talked about, and the kisses they’d shared - there was no place to go in the room where she wouldn’t be overwhelmed.
And yet she didn’t have the option to leave. She had said she would help. As the janitorial staff came with cardboard boxes and large trash bins in hand, she knew she would have to go inside. Cuddy just hoped her reluctance didn’t show, prayed that her voice didn’t quiver when she explained, “We’ll box all of his personal belongings and ship them to his home. Any medical files you find, anything that looks like it might relate to patient care, need to be set aside for me to take. Books on the shelves all go. If you’re not sure about an item belonging to him, we’ll put it in the fellows’ office for them to verify who owns the item. Understood?”
No one questioned her. No one tried to sympathize with her or cheer her up. Everyone was cordial but diligent, and getting the job done was all anyone cared about, Cuddy included. For the men cleaning with her, they just wanted to finish so they could focus on their normal duties. For her, the sooner this was done, the sooner she could leave his office.
Still she did her best to avoid House’s personal belongings, sticking to the books he had on the shelves instead. It was safer to stick to the texts that could have belonged to anyone. It was less personal, less of a reminder of the man she knew… thought she knew.
She didn’t question that she was making the right choice. House had tenure, but it wouldn’t be hard to convince the board to fire him. And even if they resisted, once he was in prison, the choice would be made for them. They couldn’t employ someone who would never have a medical license again. The only way all of this possibly could be avoided was if she were to convince the police not to press charges, and even then she wasn’t sure if that would work. She didn’t want it to though. Logistics and legalities aside, House’s behavior wasn’t forgivable. She could defend and protect him from a lot of things, but this was too much. She didn’t have any doubt about that.
Some part of her must have though. As she half-heartedly stuffed books into a box, as the cleaning crew sifted through the considerable contents of his desk, she wondered if this was truly the right thing.
Of course it was. She knew that. She couldn’t trust him with patients after what he had done to her. This was right, she reminded herself. But… it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The janitors were placing trinkets, odds, and ends into a box next to her, and a glimpse of the rubber bands and toy figurines made Cuddy think for a moment that she did know House. She knew the drawer he kept his glasses in, the way his fingers might nervously pluck at his oversized tennis ball or link together paper clips. She knew when he was listening to her and when he was merely pretending to, how his laugh sometimes got caught in a rare smile, the noise becoming raspy with air. The lines of his body, the scars, the warm fingertips that would gently stroke her while they were trying to sleep, the precise shade his eyes became when he realized something - all those parts of him had become a part of her. Surrounded by familiarity, she was reminded of how deep their connection was.
Had been.
She couldn’t believe there was anything between them still. But memories of what they’d had gave her pause. They made her feel like she was betraying him. She was, admittedly, in a way; she was turning her back on everything they had worked together to create. He had taken the first step away from her, but she was now running in the other direction as well. He had left her with nowhere else to go. She had no other option. In his office, his former office though, she couldn’t help but wish things had been different.
If only it weren’t like this.
She didn’t break under the weight of the thought. It might have been tempting, but the last thing she would allow was for her employees to see her upset. She’d crossed that line before with House. She’d let him into her personal life. She wouldn’t do that again.
When they’d finished sifting through everything in the office, Cuddy cordially thanked them and left without saying goodbye.
Continue on to the rest of the chapter