Fear of Fire, Chapter 2.2
Title: Fear of Fire Leaves You Cold, Chapter 2
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17 for sex
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.
Warning: This fic also contains sex. If that bothers you, don't read.
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)
Disclaimer: The show is not mine.
She knew that wouldn’t be enough to make him stop. Hadn’t he demonstrated as much? When he wanted something, he didn’t give up until he had bullied everyone else around him into conceding. She knew it wouldn’t be any different now, so she wasn’t surprised when he spoke up after a few minutes.
“As uncomfortable as this is for you, we really do need to discuss a few things.”
She scoffed, bit back the derisive laugh she felt trying to escape. “There’s nothing to talk about, House.”
“One conversation. That’s all I want,” he told her in a gentle tone. “And then I won’t say anything to you for the rest of the flight.”
Her hair whipped back and forth as she shook her head in a practically violent manner. “Or you can just not talk to me, thank you.”
“I won’t talk to Rachel,” he offered. “I’ll pretend like I don’t hear her.”
Cuddy’s eyes narrowed on him. She was seething with anger. That he would proposition her with that, when, if he’d had any decency, he would have just done that made her want to kill him.
Her teeth gritted, she said in sharp tones, “You shouldn’t be talking to her anyway. You should have gotten off the plane or sat elsewhere. And when that wasn’t possible, you should have known that it is not okay for you to talk to her.”
Was that shame she saw in his eyes? There was a brief flash of something in his gaze, something that left him without a response. Maybe she was wrong to think he was ashamed of anything, especially when it came to his own behavior. He obviously had no idea how awful his actions were if he thought that she would ever want to talk about it with him. Being on a plane made the idea of a conversation that much worse, but even so, what he had done was beyond discussion. And if he wanted to talk about it at all, that was proof enough that he couldn’t possibly be capable of feeling ashamed of himself. So she thought she couldn’t be reading him right, as he didn’t know what shame was.
But then, she wondered what she did see in his gaze. Dismay maybe? Frustration with her stubbornness? She didn’t know, and he thankfully didn’t say anything to give her any indication as to the emotions flitting through his mind then.
He just leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
By the amount of shifting he did next to her, she could tell it took him a while to fall asleep. Yet he did eventually succumb to slumber in the end, and for that she was both grateful and irritated.
Based on what he’d done, he shouldn’t have been able to sleep at all. God only knew she had barely been able to. It had happened to her, but he’d been the one to choose to drive his car through her home. The least he could do was be more tormented than she was about it. No, she didn’t want him awake and bothering her. But she also didn’t want to see him able to move on with his life as though what he’d done had no significance.
That was what he believed though, wasn’t it? This was just another screw up in his mind, a mistake he’d made, a wrong act, but nothing he couldn’t overcome if he charmed her enough.
Truth be told, that almost hurt more than the actual choice he’d made to ruin her home. That he could do it and not even care… yeah, that was far more hurtful than anything he’d done up to this point. And he had done so much to already hurt her.
Part of her still, up to this point, had wanted to believe, all evidence to the contrary, that he couldn’t stoop any lower. With everything he’d done, she had needed that to be the end. But… he just seemed continually intent on punishing her for breaking up with him.
After all this time, she considered that he didn’t even get it. As smart as he was, clearly he didn’t exactly understand feelings or… emotions, she thought. And as frightening as it was to even think it, maybe he didn’t even know what he had done, what he was doing.
If that were supposed to inspire pity in her though, it wasn’t working. She didn’t feel bad for him that he had no concept of what love and respect were. She didn’t think of whatever pain he was feeling. No doubt he had twisted this whole thing around in his mind so that he was the only one who had suffered. He didn’t think about what she’d gone through. He didn’t think about what it had been like for her, in that hospital and possibly dying with no one by her side; he didn’t think about how it would make her feel when he crashed his car through her home. He hadn’t thought of anyone but himself, and frankly, Cuddy couldn’t help but feel that he had the right idea.
It was time to be just as ruthlessly selfish as he had been, as he was.
For that reason, she didn’t give into her sudden desire to kill him. She didn’t rush to the bathroom to vomit, as she had been wanting to do since he had sat next to her.
Instead, she forced herself to close her eyes next to him.
If he were going to pretend as though none of this mattered, then she would follow suit. If what he’d done wasn’t going to bother him, she would never let him see just how much it had upset her.
***********************************
House woke to a sharp pain in his leg. His eyes stayed closed as consciousness quickly returned to him. And then remembering where he was, he didn’t wish to open his eyes to be in the same awful situation he’d gone to sleep in. But the pain in his thigh, which felt almost like an outside pressure, would not let him remain ignorant of the world around him.
Blinking he looked down with bleary eyes. He was surprised to find Rachel in between his slightly spread legs with one of her knees on his seat. Her hands on his thighs, she was trying to climb up on his lap.
Without moving he asked tiredly, “What are you doing?”
She looked up at him with eyes that seemed unnaturally wide. She smiled at him. “Hi hi hi.”
He glanced over at Cuddy, who was curled up in her seat. Her back was to him, but he assumed that, if Rachel were over here, Cuddy had fallen asleep. His gaze moving past her sleeping form, he could see why Rachel was so excited.
Her tray table was down, and on top of it laid an empty bottle of grape juice and a Coke can, which he feared was equally empty.
“Where’d you get that?” he asked Rachel as he pointed to the drinks.
“Um….” She stopped trying to climb on his lap, so she could twirl around in the little bit of space in front of him. “The lady gave it to me,” she said in a singsong voice.
“You drink all that Coke?”
“Uh huh.”
He sighed. “Great.”
At that she held up her hands. “Up up up up up. Up,” she said with a sharp nod of the head.
House hesitated to pick her up like she clearly wanted. Under normal circumstances he would have done it. Of course he would have done it. She wasn’t his favorite person in the world, but he cared enough about her to want her to be happy. More importantly, he didn’t want to listen to her whine for the next ten minutes, and most importantly, he wanted to keep Cuddy quiet and asleep. And he supposed that last case was what made it abnormal circumstances.
She was pissed at him, and she had every right to be, and she was right: he shouldn’t have been talking to Rachel and acting as though he hadn’t done anything wrong. As soon as Cuddy had said it, he’d known she was right. He was making things worse by rubbing his relationship with her daughter in her face.
Naturally, that hadn’t been his point. That wasn’t what he wanted. He just… didn’t think it was right to let Rachel get caught in the middle. The less she knew the better, and perhaps selfishly he really wanted to keep the truth from her. Though he had never anticipated having a relationship with her, the fact was he did; Rachel liked him, looked up to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. It would happen eventually, he knew, but he wanted to hold onto that relationship for as long as he could. Because the way he saw it…
Rachel was the last person who saw any goodness in him.
She was the only one.
Cuddy hated him. She didn’t even want to let him explain that was how much she hated him.
Wilson… well, House hadn’t talked to him, but it was clear how that relationship was going to go. Unlike Cuddy, Wilson might forgive him for what he had done. But that friendship had been damaged for years, thanks to House’s behavior. Each and every time, Wilson had forgiven him, but House wasn’t blind. Every instance he’d screwed up, Wilson had been less and less willing to forgive; his hesitation had increased, and resentment over the event lingered long after they’d made up.
Yes, Wilson would probably forgive him for what he’d done. But House knew that it wouldn’t be that simple. It wouldn’t be an easy forgiveness. House would have to work for it, especially if Cuddy decided to interfere with that process. She was obviously close to Wilson, and if she showed her anger to him at all, Wilson would be that much more likely to stay mad at him. And even if House became friends with him once more, their relationship would still never be the same after the fact.
Rachel was the last person to think the world of him.
She was the last one in his life too naïve to know better.
Selfishly he didn’t want to lose that.
But in trying to maintain some sort of friendship with Rachel, he was hurting Cuddy. And he couldn’t keep doing that, because at some point, Rachel would understand what he was doing to her mother. Then she would hate him too.
So when she held up her arms for him to grab, he slowly shook his head. “Nah. Sorry,” he said honestly. “Mommy wants you to sit in your seat.”
Rachel laughed like what he was saying was an intentional joke. “I want up.”
“No,” he told her more firmly. “Go sit down.”
Instead Rachel clawed her way up his lap. As though he were a jungle gym, she somehow managed to push herself up on his knees and then crawl the rest of the way there.
“In your seat,” he clarified, as she plopped down on his lap.
If she moved at all, it was so that she could lay her head against his chest. He leaned his head down so he could talk to her quietly. His chin resting against her crown he said, “That’s not what I said.”
“I missed you,” she explained.
He nodded his head. “I know.” An internal voice whispered that he had missed her as well. At least, he had missed being in her home with her mother. But he refused to speak of any of the longing he felt. It wouldn’t do any good now.
“Why can’t you come over?” Rachel asked sadly.
He sighed but didn’t hesitate to answer. He hadn’t had anything rehearsed, but somehow explaining what had happened sufficiently to a child and explaining things terribly in general sounded exactly alike. “I… screwed some things up. I hurt Mommy’s feelings, and she doesn’t want to see me right now.”
Rachel nodded her head like that made sense. “Mommy says you’re neck-less.”
“I think you mean reckless. I have a neck.”
She giggled and looked up at him. She reached up with her hand and pressed her palm against his stubble. He rubbed his chin against her, making her laugh. “It tickles.”
He stopped, knowing that if she got much louder, she would wake her mother.
“Go sit down,” he told Rachel when she’d eventually calmed down.
She shook her head. Smiling she announced, “I hafta go potty.”
“Ask your mother to take you.”
“She’s sleeping.”
He picked her up then and placed her on the ground in front of Cuddy. “Wake her up,” he said sternly.
“You can take me.” The way Rachel said it made him think that she thought this was some sort of a gift. It wasn’t.
“I don’t want to take you.” He gestured to his thigh. “Sorry. Leg.”
She wiggled about and crossed her legs. “I have to go now.” She looked at him pleadingly, though he doubted she was seriously that desperate.
Then again, given his luck as of late, she probably really did have to pee that badly. If she was asking him to take her and she wet herself, how would Cuddy respond to that? He didn’t think it would be anywhere in the realm of “positively.” But at the same time, he wasn’t sure it would be any better if he were to take the kid to the bathroom and come back to an awake Cuddy.
“Wake up Mommy.”
All Rachel did though was whine like she was about to piss her pants at that second.
“Fine,” he capitulated immediately. Reaching down, he unbuckled himself from his seat. He didn’t want to take Rachel, but knowing her, he worried that she would urinate all over herself just to guilt him. And if he were to let her do that, then just like everyone else, she would be angry with him.
That was the last thing he wanted.
Standing up House moved out of the way for Rachel to squeeze out of their aisle. She scrambled from between the seats quickly, and the second he pointed her in the way of the bathrooms, she took off running, squealing as she went.
Her sugar high was undeniable, and he quietly followed behind her. Secretly he hoped Cuddy would stay asleep.
********************************
“Mommy!” The single word seemed to last at least several minutes, and Cuddy shot up in her seat sometime during Rachel’s second syllable.
“What?” Cuddy asked tiredly, blinking quickly, a hand instinctively smoothing her hair back. “What’s going on?”
Even as she asked the question, she could figure out for herself what was happening. Her muscles ached and were stiff. Her mouth felt as though it were full of cotton, and her bladder felt full. However long she had been asleep, it had been a while. Admittedly that was hardly surprising. Given how much time she’d spent packing their things, making airline reservations, and consoling Rachel, Cuddy had had little sleep the night before.
Still, she instinctively looked at her watch. It was around six o’clock in the evening. She had no idea what time it was supposed to be where they were. The nondescript patch of ocean they were flying over had no discernible time zone, but it was six in Australia. Which meant that she’d slept for four hours. Glancing at Rachel whose lips were practically purple (from what Cuddy assumed was grape juice), Cuddy knew she had been the only one to stay asleep this entire time.
Her gaze instantly looked towards House who was awake. And it was clear to her then, from the way he nervously watched her for a reaction, he hadn’t listened to a single word she’d said. Because in the time she had been asleep, it was obvious that he had been playing with Rachel.
He too had what looked like grape juice staining the corners of his mouth. A couple books Cuddy had packed were jammed into the seat pocket in front of him, not in the bag where she had left them. The TV on the back of the seat in front of him was stuck on some sort of cartoon… which he might have watched on his own, but she doubted it. That meant he had been the one watching over Rachel. In spite of everything Cuddy had said, that was what he had chosen to do.
He could have woken her up. He could have made Rachel wake her up. But instead, he had taken over parenting duties - hours, maybe even minutes after Cuddy had specifically made it clear that that wasn’t what she wanted. She had said he should have been ashamed for even trying to have a conversation with her daughter in front of her. Had he somehow taken that to mean that babysitting was a-okay instead?
She didn’t ask that question. As much as she wanted to hurl it in his face, Rachel was awake and didn’t need to see that. So Cuddy merely glared at him before turning to her daughter.
“Rachel,” she said sleepily. Reaching for her, Cuddy plucked the little girl up off her seat and pulled her toward her. Rachel was warm and soft against her and eagerly hugged her mother back. “Did you have juice while Mommy was sleeping?”
Rachel nodded her head, using the back of her hand to try and wipe her own purple-stained mouth. “I’m purple!”
“I know. I can see that.”
“We watched a movie,” Rachel explained happily. “Cause you was sleeping. And we read books and stuff.” As soon as she said the words, she looked as though she remembered she wasn’t supposed to say anything. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Cuddy said immediately. “I’m glad you had some time to play with House.”
It was a lie.
Rachel was naïve enough to not know that though. She assumed that if her mother said it, she was being honest. But it was as far from the truth as Cuddy could get. And House obviously knew that, given that he bristled at the words.
But Rachel happily went about with her life, never noticing the way the adults around her seemed uneasy with one another. For that Cuddy was grateful. As though she were a broken record, she thought once more that the less Rachel knew, the better. No one would benefit if she were to discover the truth, that her mother and her best friend hated one another now. And no matter how much Cuddy wanted to turn to House and yell at him, she wasn’t going to do that in front of her daughter.
He’d had no right to take care of Rachel while Cuddy had been sleeping. If he had no right to be here when he should have been in jail, then he certainly didn’t have the right to do anything that appeared to be kind for her. Because if he’d wanted to be kind, he would have kept his car out of her home - or at least turned himself in the second after he had done it.
But she kept those thoughts to herself. It would do no good to lose her temper right now. It wouldn’t make her feel any better to scream her head off in front of her daughter.
So she focused on Rachel’s needs. She took her to the bathroom a few times, read to her, walked around the plane with her, fed her, and held her. And in doing all of that, it was almost easy to ignore the overwhelming hatred Cuddy felt for the man next to her. She wouldn’t lie and act as though it disappeared completely. It didn’t; it couldn’t. What House had done was so awful and vile that there was absolutely no chance in Hell that she could forgive much less ignore his betrayal. But being with Rachel, she was reminded that there were still some good things in the world.
Adopting Rachel had been one of the hardest, most emotionally trying things she had ever done in her life. Every day since then she had been challenged in ways she hadn’t ever thought possible. With questions she didn’t have answers for, tears she didn’t always know how to console… Rachel had managed to confound Cuddy on a regular basis.
Yet those first few weeks not withstanding, Cuddy had never regretted her choice, never even questioned it. To be sure, in this very moment, she had never been happier to have had her little girl. Because if she had dated House, if they had broken up and he had done that, without Rachel to keep her grounded, Cuddy was sure she would have lost her mind.
But with her daughter nearby, Cuddy was able to force herself to focus on things unrelated to House. She could pour all of her energy into taking care of Rachel.
Every now and then, Rachel would try to get House’s attention, and Cuddy couldn’t do anything about that. She couldn’t stop their short conversations from happening. But every time that happened, she deftly steered Rachel back to her, with a book or a couple crackers.
And eventually, several hours after they’d been served what she guessed was supposed to be dinner, Rachel fell asleep in her seat. The second she’d gone down, Cuddy realized how awful the next couple of days were going to be. The change in location, the excitement of seeing something new, had kept Rachel’s jetlag at bay when they’d flown to the Yasawa Islands. But surely going from Fiji to New Jersey wasn’t going to be anywhere near as exciting, and after sleeping on a plane, she wouldn’t want to sleep tonight, would she?
Cuddy suspected the answer to that question was no. And because of that, she had half a mind to wake her daughter right then and there.
She didn’t though.
If one thing had been made clear today, it was that House was right: they needed to talk. Or rather, he needed to hear exactly how things were going to be from now on. Admittedly there was a good chance he wouldn’t listen to her. He was so disturbed that she knew that there was a great possibility that he wouldn’t even be able to comprehend what she was saying. But for her own sake, she needed to say out loud what was on her mind. Whether he intended to listen to her or not was beside the point. Right now he was doing whatever he wanted, because he obviously had no idea where they stood. He had no clue what she intended to have happen. And while she had no problem letting the consequences of his actions take him by surprise, she was tired of watching cluelessly flounder.
Minutes after Rachel fell asleep, Cuddy turned to him. “All right,” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
The sound of her voice instantly made him look in her direction. His eyes were wide with surprise, hesitation easy to read all over his face.
“You said you wanted to talk,” she said with disdain. “Let’s talk.”
He resisted for a moment filled with indecision and suspicion. “I thought we didn’t have anything to discuss,” he reminded her. “Those were your words.”
She shrugged. “I must have changed my mind.”
“Just like that.”
“Sure. Why not?”
There was audible resentment in the dry words, and he clearly picked up on that, because he replied, “Well when you say it like that, it makes me -”
“I don’t care,” she said quickly. “You said you wanted this conversation, and now you’re going to get it.” If it sounded like a threat, she guessed that was because it was.
But he wasn’t frightened off. “Okay. I -”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “You’re not going to talk. You’re going to listen to me.”
He looked taken aback, but he didn’t say anything. She was grateful for that.
“This has to stop,” she ordered, gesturing with her fingers from him to Rachel.
“I don’t -”
“Trying to be friends with her. Reading to her. Watching movies to her.” The disgust she felt was practically dripping from the words. “I get why you’re doing it, but she is not yours.”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I never said she was.”
“That is my daughter. She is not here to make you feel better about what you did.” He opened his mouth, probably to deny it, which was why she quickly asked, “You think I wasn’t going to notice what you’re doing? You think I was going to think that you were, what, a swell guy for doing what you did to me if you were just nice enough to her?”
“I know I screwed up,” he admitted apologetically. “I’m sorry. I -”
“I don’t care. I really don’t.” She smiled humorlessly, knowing just how truthful she was being. She didn’t care that he knew he’d screwed (though she doubted that) or that he was claiming to be sorry (when she knew he wasn’t). “There is no apology you can make that’s going to make any of this okay. I don’t want one, and if I did, you wouldn’t even mean it, House. We both know that you’re using her to make yourself feel better about what you did. Because God forbid you actually spend a moment in your life reflecting upon your actions.”
He shook his head so fast that she knew it meant he hadn’t even considered what she was saying. “That’s not true.”
“Rachel is the last person who thinks you’re a good person,” Cuddy said knowingly. “And you’re using her affection for you to tell yourself that what you did wasn’t really that bad, because she still likes you.” Her lip curled in disgust.
“I’m not,” he lied. She knew he was lying. “I… care about her. I don’t want her to know what -”
“You care about her?” She let her doubt shine through.
He nodded his head and almost seemed honest then. “I do.”
Maybe he did, she conceded. Or… at least, perhaps he thought he did. At that point, Cuddy was sure he couldn’t possibly care about anyone other than himself. But he looked honest.
Not that that mattered.
“Right. She’s your friend.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess she is.”
“And look what you did to her mother,” she hissed angrily. “You care about her so much. You’re her friend, and you….” Her voice was overcome with emotion, and she had to stop talking.
Straightening her back, she inhaled and exhaled. Thus far, he had not seen her be overly emotional, and she refused to let that change now. She would keep control of herself, she told herself, forcing her mind to relax and focus once more.
When she was finally calm enough to continue, she said, “That’s the part I can’t wrap my head around. You ruined her home. When I get back, I know the building inspectors are going to tell me that the property isn’t safe and that I’m going to have spend thousands of dollars just to get it back to the way it was. Which,” she said more forcefully. “Doesn’t take into account the things inside that you ruined. Memories that she and I had.”
He had the good sense to look guilty and keep his mouth shut.
“And the odd thing is: I could forgive you for that. If it had been accident, I could get past that.” She frowned deeply. “But you did it on purpose. You did it intentionally.”
“You do realize that those things mean the same thing, right?”
She glared at him. “You claim to be her friend, but you thought nothing of taking that away from her. You thought nothing of threatening the lives of her uncle and her aunt. You were so wrapped up in your anger that you thought nothing about trying to kill her mother.”
“I didn’t do that,” he said instantly. It was clear both in his tone and his demeanor that he was offended. Apparently being the mad man who drove his way through people’s homes was a title he could live with, but attempted murderer was where he drew the line. “I didn’t try to kill you.”
“Oh, well that just makes me feel so much better.” Realizing that she almost sounded hysterical, she forced herself to calm down once more. “You weren’t trying. You just could have accidentally done it.”
He looked away then. Though he seemed to feel some guilt then, she didn’t back down.
“I don’t know which is worse - that you would do it intentionally or that you would put my life at risk on a whim.” She leaned closer to him, so she could speak more quietly. “Did you even consider that Rachel, your friend, might have been in the house, or how she might have felt seeing you do that?”
He swallowed hard, making her believe that he hadn’t thought of that at all. Rachel’s safety hadn’t even crossed his mind. What he said though was, “I saw you. On a date, Cuddy.” He looked at her then. “I knew you wouldn’t have her there.”
“Oh really?” she asked incredulously, folding her arms across her chest. “And what if I hadn’t been able to get my mother to watch her? What if my sister had brought her kids over, because we’d decided to let the kids play while we had a friendly dinner together? You -”
“You were on a date,” he repeated with increased seriousness. “After our break up, you weren’t going to expose Rachel to some random guy.”
She didn’t believe him though. “You didn’t know I was on a date.”
“No?” He shifted in his seat with excitement. “You think I don’t know what you look like when you’re interested in a guy? You looked happy. You touched his arm.”
House continued to go through the supposed visual tells she had given him, but her mind lingered on the idea that this orgy of violence had been caused by a date.
“You son of a bitch,” she interrupted, practically snarling. “You decided to punish me for being on a date?” One of her hands curled into a fist against her side. “You’re an idiot. I only asked Jerry -”
“Jerry,” he muttered. He obviously didn’t like the name or, she guessed, that she had remembered the name days after the fact.
But she ignored him. “I asked him to dinner, because you were the one who said you wanted to go back to the way things were.”
“How kind of you, to date another man for my sake. Did you deep throat him to make me feel better too? Perhaps you’d like to ride him bareback to improve my mood. I hear letting other guys come in your ass is good for the pain in my leg.”
“You wanted to move on,” she said, refusing to react to his nasty remarks. “So I took your lead and did what I thought you wanted me to. For months,” she explained to him. “I didn’t go out with anyone. I didn’t move on with my life out of courtesy for you.”
“All I wanted to see, all I ever needed to know was that our break up meant something to you,” he told her bitterly. “I don’t care if you moved on one day after we broke up. But you don’t even seem to care that it happened.”
Her cheeks turned red with anger. “Some of us don’t feel the need to wield our pain around like a weapon.”
“That’s -”
“Exactly what you did,” she supplied, finishing the thought for him. “You have been walking around the hospital for months just trying to get a reaction from me. The hookers, the demands, the marriage, the Vicodin - you’ve been desperate to get something from me, to make me feel bad.”
“I didn’t want to make you feel bad,” he corrected with frustration. “I just wanted to know that I wasn’t the only one who was hurt by this. You’ve been walking around like it didn’t mean -”
“No,” she snapped. As soon as she did that though, she glanced back at Rachel. Thankfully her daughter was still asleep. Slowly she turned back around to face House. “You didn’t just want to see my pain. You’ve been throwing punches at me every chance you got. You wanted to cause me pain. You -”
“I didn’t do that,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You did. You have been abusive and cruel. And you think that behaving that way was going to inspire me to show you how I felt?” She laughed, because what he wanted from her was nothing short of ridiculous. “You left me in that hospital room alone. You decided to self destruct and have sex with everything in sight and jump off hotel balconies and destroy my home, and somehow I’m the one who hasn’t shown enough pain over our break up? I’m the insensitive one.”
He looked down at his lap. He only did it for a moment before he clearly forced himself to meet her gaze once more. But for a brief second, her words had clearly had their intended effect.
“You want to see my pain?” she asked, never intending to give him a chance to reply. “Fine. Here are my feelings: I missed you, and even though I knew I had every right to break up with you, it hurt. But I didn’t let you see that, because you’ve been so selfish, acting as though you’re the only one affected by this. You didn’t have any room for any of my emotions, no matter what you say. But since you want to know how I’m feeling, I’ll tell you.”
She wasn’t sure if he expected her to say she wanted him back then or that she still missed him. She had no idea what he wanted or thought she would tell him. Part of her, of course, hoped he knew that neither of those things were sentiments she would express now. Yet there was another part of her that did want him to think those things, so that she could crush him.
“I don’t miss you anymore. Whatever feelings I had for you, you have promptly and thoroughly extinguished,” she said coldly. “I thought there was some good in you. I wanted you to prove that to me, that you might be able to change, that you actually could do better. I don’t want that anymore. The second you put my life in danger, the second you threatened my family’s lives, that ended.”
“I didn’t mean -”
“I don’t care. If you’d had any shred of humanity in you, you wouldn’t have done that. If there were any good at you, you would have done something else. I wanted to believe you were capable of being a good person, but I was wrong. I was so wrong. And as usual, when it came to you doing the mature thing and the thing you just wanted to do, well, we both know what you chose. And I hope it was worth it for you.”
He hung his head a little. “You know it wasn’t.”
“That’s too bad,” she replied as unsympathetic as ever. “Because you’re going to jail for it.”
At that his attention snapped towards her once more. For the first time, his gaze held fear and realization. She did not pity him.
“Yeah,” she said patronizingly. “They’re going to arrest you the second you get back to New Jersey.” But even as she said that, she knew it was more wishful thinking than anything else.
To be sure, he would be arrested. The officer had told her that they would be required by law to arrest him, though it was up to her to decide whether or not charges would be eventually pressed. But whether they would pick him up the second he returned to the state, she really couldn’t say. She was willing to bluff though.
“And then you’ll be going to jail,” she informed him. For the first time in days, her smile truly did feel like a joyous one. “And I’m sure in the back of your mind, you’ll want to hope that you’re going to prison on a technicality or that my testimony - and I will be testifying - was required of me. But it’s not,” she told him, stressing the last word. “When I get up on the stand and tell them I want nothing to do with you, House, I want you to know that I’ll mean every single word I say. I want nothing to do with you,” she repeated. “I want you to go to jail, and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that that happens. Do you understand that?”
He blinked, and though he didn’t cry, she thought she saw tears in his eyes. Again, sympathy was a feeling she could not have for him.
“I’m going to tell a judge and jury that you are an awful, irredeemable person, and I’m not just going to be saying that, because I’m a little mad at you. This isn’t something you’re going to fix with an apology. This isn’t something I’ll forgive you for if I see you being sweet to my daughter. In fact….” She decided right then and there to put a stop to how he was treating Rachel. “If I see you try to be nice to her for one more minute, I swear to God -”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, quickly trying to hide the pain he was clearly starting to feel. “Pretend like she’s not here? Not talk to her?”
“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “Pretend you’re asleep for all I care. Just stop trying to be friends with her. She doesn’t need to be around you.”
“Maybe not, but -”
“Maybe not?”
“But she is,” he persisted, ignoring her. “For the next several hours, she’s going to be sitting next to me. It’s not fair to her to -”
“I don’t care what reason you use,” she interrupted. “Pretend you’re not feeling well. Pay someone else to switch seats with you. But you leave her alone.”
She expected him to, but House didn’t fight her. Whether it was the tone of her voice or the knowledge that she could make his life hell, she didn’t know. But he didn’t disagree with her then. He just nodded his head and said, “Fine.”
He got up then. She wasn’t sure what he planned on doing. Whether he was going to switch places with another passenger or he just wanted some air, she didn’t know. Really, she didn’t care what he did, although she would have absolutely preferred to be separated from him as best as they could manage given the circumstances. But when he returned ten minutes later vaguely smelling like hand soap, she realized that he had merely used the bathroom.
As he sat down, she couldn’t deny that she was disappointed. She didn’t care what he did, so long as he followed her orders, but she definitely had a preference. Still she didn’t complain.
Getting comfortable in his seat, he shot her a meaningful look. What emotion he was trying to express, she wasn’t sure, and to be honest, she didn’t have the energy or the desire to figure it out. But he seemed to be satisfied anyway - or at least resigned to the way things were.
Leaning back in his chair, he looked away and closed his eyes. As far as she could tell, he didn’t fall asleep. He would have had to have been completely emotionless in order to do that after their conversation. Admittedly he was almost there, almost at that point where pain, specifically causing it in other people, had no effect on him. Looking at him briefly, she thought he didn’t even know it. But she could see it in him. He was nearly there, and even if she hadn’t wanted him to go to prison, he clearly needed it. He needed something to pull him back or… make him see what he had done.
Quickly she pushed that thought aside. It wasn’t her job to make him better. It had never been her responsibility to do that, but definitely, it wasn’t up to her now to make sure that he got the help he desperately needed. That responsibility lie, as it always had, with him. And she refused to let herself feel bad for him then, though part of her was tempted.
He didn’t deserve it.
Turning away from him, she tried once more to pretend as though he didn’t exist. While Rachel slept that was easy. Cuddy simply read the novel she had brought with her and didn’t look in his direction. When Rachel woke up though, it was harder. Naturally she wanted to talk to him, play with him.
But he kept his word and did neither. He obviously couldn’t pretend to be asleep the entire time, so Cuddy lied to her daughter once more and explained that House had a headache. Rachel didn’t like the sound of that, of course; she didn’t like hearing that her friend couldn’t keep her entertained. However, she believed Cuddy and didn’t question her mother at all.
Truth be told, it struck Cuddy as odd, as time progressed, that this was happening. Even when House eventually sat up, he pretended to not feel well - even going so far as taking a Vicodin to reinforce that idea (although Cuddy was sure he took the Vicodin for other reasons as well). They were trying so hard to act like they didn’t even know each other, that everything between them was over, but here they were, working together to convince Rachel that something else was going on.
They hadn’t planned this out. They’d agreed House would stop interacting with Rachel, but they hadn’t discussed just what it was that they would do, the lies they would tell. But here they were anyway, presenting a front that seemed perfectly united. Cuddy wanted nothing to do with him, but they were working together with ease at that moment.
She tried not to think about that though. If she thought about it too much, she would feel as though she were drowning in his presence, as though no amount of running away from him would put distance between them. So every time her mind started to head in that direction, she doubled her efforts on focusing on Rachel.
And it was easy. To get through the remainder of the flight, even with House by their side, was easy. It wasn’t hard to distract Rachel or remind her that he wasn’t feeling well. There was nothing difficult about it. The hours passed, not quickly, but without incident.
That abruptly changed, however, minutes after they landed. Cuddy was happily thinking about getting off the plane and, well, not going home obviously. Thanks to the man next to her, she had no home to go to. But she could check into a hotel and take a long hot bath with Rachel, and House would be nowhere near her, and that was what she was thinking when they pulled up to the gate.
And then the police came.
They boarded the plane, the flight attendants announcing that everyone needed to remain in their seats. Some passengers groaned, but if Cuddy felt dread at all, it had nothing to do with being forced to sit a little longer. It was because she knew what was going to happen as they headed in her direction.
She had no idea if they were here because of what she’d told the flight attendant when they’d boarded or if the police had independently been searching for him. All she knew was that they were here for House.
They were going to arrest him in front of Rachel. All of the work they’d put into keeping her out of it was moot now. Because it didn’t matter what they had said for the last twenty-four hours.
The sight of House being led away in handcuffs said it all to Rachel. She was still practically a baby, but she knew what that meant.
And when Rachel started to sob for him, Cuddy scooped up her daughter and held her close. “It’s okay. It’s going to be all right.”
For the first time in days, when she said those words, she actually meant them.
House would be going to jail.
Yes, things would be all right.
Continue on to the next chapter
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17 for sex
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.
Warning: This fic also contains sex. If that bothers you, don't read.
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)
Disclaimer: The show is not mine.
She knew that wouldn’t be enough to make him stop. Hadn’t he demonstrated as much? When he wanted something, he didn’t give up until he had bullied everyone else around him into conceding. She knew it wouldn’t be any different now, so she wasn’t surprised when he spoke up after a few minutes.
“As uncomfortable as this is for you, we really do need to discuss a few things.”
She scoffed, bit back the derisive laugh she felt trying to escape. “There’s nothing to talk about, House.”
“One conversation. That’s all I want,” he told her in a gentle tone. “And then I won’t say anything to you for the rest of the flight.”
Her hair whipped back and forth as she shook her head in a practically violent manner. “Or you can just not talk to me, thank you.”
“I won’t talk to Rachel,” he offered. “I’ll pretend like I don’t hear her.”
Cuddy’s eyes narrowed on him. She was seething with anger. That he would proposition her with that, when, if he’d had any decency, he would have just done that made her want to kill him.
Her teeth gritted, she said in sharp tones, “You shouldn’t be talking to her anyway. You should have gotten off the plane or sat elsewhere. And when that wasn’t possible, you should have known that it is not okay for you to talk to her.”
Was that shame she saw in his eyes? There was a brief flash of something in his gaze, something that left him without a response. Maybe she was wrong to think he was ashamed of anything, especially when it came to his own behavior. He obviously had no idea how awful his actions were if he thought that she would ever want to talk about it with him. Being on a plane made the idea of a conversation that much worse, but even so, what he had done was beyond discussion. And if he wanted to talk about it at all, that was proof enough that he couldn’t possibly be capable of feeling ashamed of himself. So she thought she couldn’t be reading him right, as he didn’t know what shame was.
But then, she wondered what she did see in his gaze. Dismay maybe? Frustration with her stubbornness? She didn’t know, and he thankfully didn’t say anything to give her any indication as to the emotions flitting through his mind then.
He just leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
By the amount of shifting he did next to her, she could tell it took him a while to fall asleep. Yet he did eventually succumb to slumber in the end, and for that she was both grateful and irritated.
Based on what he’d done, he shouldn’t have been able to sleep at all. God only knew she had barely been able to. It had happened to her, but he’d been the one to choose to drive his car through her home. The least he could do was be more tormented than she was about it. No, she didn’t want him awake and bothering her. But she also didn’t want to see him able to move on with his life as though what he’d done had no significance.
That was what he believed though, wasn’t it? This was just another screw up in his mind, a mistake he’d made, a wrong act, but nothing he couldn’t overcome if he charmed her enough.
Truth be told, that almost hurt more than the actual choice he’d made to ruin her home. That he could do it and not even care… yeah, that was far more hurtful than anything he’d done up to this point. And he had done so much to already hurt her.
Part of her still, up to this point, had wanted to believe, all evidence to the contrary, that he couldn’t stoop any lower. With everything he’d done, she had needed that to be the end. But… he just seemed continually intent on punishing her for breaking up with him.
After all this time, she considered that he didn’t even get it. As smart as he was, clearly he didn’t exactly understand feelings or… emotions, she thought. And as frightening as it was to even think it, maybe he didn’t even know what he had done, what he was doing.
If that were supposed to inspire pity in her though, it wasn’t working. She didn’t feel bad for him that he had no concept of what love and respect were. She didn’t think of whatever pain he was feeling. No doubt he had twisted this whole thing around in his mind so that he was the only one who had suffered. He didn’t think about what she’d gone through. He didn’t think about what it had been like for her, in that hospital and possibly dying with no one by her side; he didn’t think about how it would make her feel when he crashed his car through her home. He hadn’t thought of anyone but himself, and frankly, Cuddy couldn’t help but feel that he had the right idea.
It was time to be just as ruthlessly selfish as he had been, as he was.
For that reason, she didn’t give into her sudden desire to kill him. She didn’t rush to the bathroom to vomit, as she had been wanting to do since he had sat next to her.
Instead, she forced herself to close her eyes next to him.
If he were going to pretend as though none of this mattered, then she would follow suit. If what he’d done wasn’t going to bother him, she would never let him see just how much it had upset her.
***********************************
House woke to a sharp pain in his leg. His eyes stayed closed as consciousness quickly returned to him. And then remembering where he was, he didn’t wish to open his eyes to be in the same awful situation he’d gone to sleep in. But the pain in his thigh, which felt almost like an outside pressure, would not let him remain ignorant of the world around him.
Blinking he looked down with bleary eyes. He was surprised to find Rachel in between his slightly spread legs with one of her knees on his seat. Her hands on his thighs, she was trying to climb up on his lap.
Without moving he asked tiredly, “What are you doing?”
She looked up at him with eyes that seemed unnaturally wide. She smiled at him. “Hi hi hi.”
He glanced over at Cuddy, who was curled up in her seat. Her back was to him, but he assumed that, if Rachel were over here, Cuddy had fallen asleep. His gaze moving past her sleeping form, he could see why Rachel was so excited.
Her tray table was down, and on top of it laid an empty bottle of grape juice and a Coke can, which he feared was equally empty.
“Where’d you get that?” he asked Rachel as he pointed to the drinks.
“Um….” She stopped trying to climb on his lap, so she could twirl around in the little bit of space in front of him. “The lady gave it to me,” she said in a singsong voice.
“You drink all that Coke?”
“Uh huh.”
He sighed. “Great.”
At that she held up her hands. “Up up up up up. Up,” she said with a sharp nod of the head.
House hesitated to pick her up like she clearly wanted. Under normal circumstances he would have done it. Of course he would have done it. She wasn’t his favorite person in the world, but he cared enough about her to want her to be happy. More importantly, he didn’t want to listen to her whine for the next ten minutes, and most importantly, he wanted to keep Cuddy quiet and asleep. And he supposed that last case was what made it abnormal circumstances.
She was pissed at him, and she had every right to be, and she was right: he shouldn’t have been talking to Rachel and acting as though he hadn’t done anything wrong. As soon as Cuddy had said it, he’d known she was right. He was making things worse by rubbing his relationship with her daughter in her face.
Naturally, that hadn’t been his point. That wasn’t what he wanted. He just… didn’t think it was right to let Rachel get caught in the middle. The less she knew the better, and perhaps selfishly he really wanted to keep the truth from her. Though he had never anticipated having a relationship with her, the fact was he did; Rachel liked him, looked up to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. It would happen eventually, he knew, but he wanted to hold onto that relationship for as long as he could. Because the way he saw it…
Rachel was the last person who saw any goodness in him.
She was the only one.
Cuddy hated him. She didn’t even want to let him explain that was how much she hated him.
Wilson… well, House hadn’t talked to him, but it was clear how that relationship was going to go. Unlike Cuddy, Wilson might forgive him for what he had done. But that friendship had been damaged for years, thanks to House’s behavior. Each and every time, Wilson had forgiven him, but House wasn’t blind. Every instance he’d screwed up, Wilson had been less and less willing to forgive; his hesitation had increased, and resentment over the event lingered long after they’d made up.
Yes, Wilson would probably forgive him for what he’d done. But House knew that it wouldn’t be that simple. It wouldn’t be an easy forgiveness. House would have to work for it, especially if Cuddy decided to interfere with that process. She was obviously close to Wilson, and if she showed her anger to him at all, Wilson would be that much more likely to stay mad at him. And even if House became friends with him once more, their relationship would still never be the same after the fact.
Rachel was the last person to think the world of him.
She was the last one in his life too naïve to know better.
Selfishly he didn’t want to lose that.
But in trying to maintain some sort of friendship with Rachel, he was hurting Cuddy. And he couldn’t keep doing that, because at some point, Rachel would understand what he was doing to her mother. Then she would hate him too.
So when she held up her arms for him to grab, he slowly shook his head. “Nah. Sorry,” he said honestly. “Mommy wants you to sit in your seat.”
Rachel laughed like what he was saying was an intentional joke. “I want up.”
“No,” he told her more firmly. “Go sit down.”
Instead Rachel clawed her way up his lap. As though he were a jungle gym, she somehow managed to push herself up on his knees and then crawl the rest of the way there.
“In your seat,” he clarified, as she plopped down on his lap.
If she moved at all, it was so that she could lay her head against his chest. He leaned his head down so he could talk to her quietly. His chin resting against her crown he said, “That’s not what I said.”
“I missed you,” she explained.
He nodded his head. “I know.” An internal voice whispered that he had missed her as well. At least, he had missed being in her home with her mother. But he refused to speak of any of the longing he felt. It wouldn’t do any good now.
“Why can’t you come over?” Rachel asked sadly.
He sighed but didn’t hesitate to answer. He hadn’t had anything rehearsed, but somehow explaining what had happened sufficiently to a child and explaining things terribly in general sounded exactly alike. “I… screwed some things up. I hurt Mommy’s feelings, and she doesn’t want to see me right now.”
Rachel nodded her head like that made sense. “Mommy says you’re neck-less.”
“I think you mean reckless. I have a neck.”
She giggled and looked up at him. She reached up with her hand and pressed her palm against his stubble. He rubbed his chin against her, making her laugh. “It tickles.”
He stopped, knowing that if she got much louder, she would wake her mother.
“Go sit down,” he told Rachel when she’d eventually calmed down.
She shook her head. Smiling she announced, “I hafta go potty.”
“Ask your mother to take you.”
“She’s sleeping.”
He picked her up then and placed her on the ground in front of Cuddy. “Wake her up,” he said sternly.
“You can take me.” The way Rachel said it made him think that she thought this was some sort of a gift. It wasn’t.
“I don’t want to take you.” He gestured to his thigh. “Sorry. Leg.”
She wiggled about and crossed her legs. “I have to go now.” She looked at him pleadingly, though he doubted she was seriously that desperate.
Then again, given his luck as of late, she probably really did have to pee that badly. If she was asking him to take her and she wet herself, how would Cuddy respond to that? He didn’t think it would be anywhere in the realm of “positively.” But at the same time, he wasn’t sure it would be any better if he were to take the kid to the bathroom and come back to an awake Cuddy.
“Wake up Mommy.”
All Rachel did though was whine like she was about to piss her pants at that second.
“Fine,” he capitulated immediately. Reaching down, he unbuckled himself from his seat. He didn’t want to take Rachel, but knowing her, he worried that she would urinate all over herself just to guilt him. And if he were to let her do that, then just like everyone else, she would be angry with him.
That was the last thing he wanted.
Standing up House moved out of the way for Rachel to squeeze out of their aisle. She scrambled from between the seats quickly, and the second he pointed her in the way of the bathrooms, she took off running, squealing as she went.
Her sugar high was undeniable, and he quietly followed behind her. Secretly he hoped Cuddy would stay asleep.
********************************
“Mommy!” The single word seemed to last at least several minutes, and Cuddy shot up in her seat sometime during Rachel’s second syllable.
“What?” Cuddy asked tiredly, blinking quickly, a hand instinctively smoothing her hair back. “What’s going on?”
Even as she asked the question, she could figure out for herself what was happening. Her muscles ached and were stiff. Her mouth felt as though it were full of cotton, and her bladder felt full. However long she had been asleep, it had been a while. Admittedly that was hardly surprising. Given how much time she’d spent packing their things, making airline reservations, and consoling Rachel, Cuddy had had little sleep the night before.
Still, she instinctively looked at her watch. It was around six o’clock in the evening. She had no idea what time it was supposed to be where they were. The nondescript patch of ocean they were flying over had no discernible time zone, but it was six in Australia. Which meant that she’d slept for four hours. Glancing at Rachel whose lips were practically purple (from what Cuddy assumed was grape juice), Cuddy knew she had been the only one to stay asleep this entire time.
Her gaze instantly looked towards House who was awake. And it was clear to her then, from the way he nervously watched her for a reaction, he hadn’t listened to a single word she’d said. Because in the time she had been asleep, it was obvious that he had been playing with Rachel.
He too had what looked like grape juice staining the corners of his mouth. A couple books Cuddy had packed were jammed into the seat pocket in front of him, not in the bag where she had left them. The TV on the back of the seat in front of him was stuck on some sort of cartoon… which he might have watched on his own, but she doubted it. That meant he had been the one watching over Rachel. In spite of everything Cuddy had said, that was what he had chosen to do.
He could have woken her up. He could have made Rachel wake her up. But instead, he had taken over parenting duties - hours, maybe even minutes after Cuddy had specifically made it clear that that wasn’t what she wanted. She had said he should have been ashamed for even trying to have a conversation with her daughter in front of her. Had he somehow taken that to mean that babysitting was a-okay instead?
She didn’t ask that question. As much as she wanted to hurl it in his face, Rachel was awake and didn’t need to see that. So Cuddy merely glared at him before turning to her daughter.
“Rachel,” she said sleepily. Reaching for her, Cuddy plucked the little girl up off her seat and pulled her toward her. Rachel was warm and soft against her and eagerly hugged her mother back. “Did you have juice while Mommy was sleeping?”
Rachel nodded her head, using the back of her hand to try and wipe her own purple-stained mouth. “I’m purple!”
“I know. I can see that.”
“We watched a movie,” Rachel explained happily. “Cause you was sleeping. And we read books and stuff.” As soon as she said the words, she looked as though she remembered she wasn’t supposed to say anything. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Cuddy said immediately. “I’m glad you had some time to play with House.”
It was a lie.
Rachel was naïve enough to not know that though. She assumed that if her mother said it, she was being honest. But it was as far from the truth as Cuddy could get. And House obviously knew that, given that he bristled at the words.
But Rachel happily went about with her life, never noticing the way the adults around her seemed uneasy with one another. For that Cuddy was grateful. As though she were a broken record, she thought once more that the less Rachel knew, the better. No one would benefit if she were to discover the truth, that her mother and her best friend hated one another now. And no matter how much Cuddy wanted to turn to House and yell at him, she wasn’t going to do that in front of her daughter.
He’d had no right to take care of Rachel while Cuddy had been sleeping. If he had no right to be here when he should have been in jail, then he certainly didn’t have the right to do anything that appeared to be kind for her. Because if he’d wanted to be kind, he would have kept his car out of her home - or at least turned himself in the second after he had done it.
But she kept those thoughts to herself. It would do no good to lose her temper right now. It wouldn’t make her feel any better to scream her head off in front of her daughter.
So she focused on Rachel’s needs. She took her to the bathroom a few times, read to her, walked around the plane with her, fed her, and held her. And in doing all of that, it was almost easy to ignore the overwhelming hatred Cuddy felt for the man next to her. She wouldn’t lie and act as though it disappeared completely. It didn’t; it couldn’t. What House had done was so awful and vile that there was absolutely no chance in Hell that she could forgive much less ignore his betrayal. But being with Rachel, she was reminded that there were still some good things in the world.
Adopting Rachel had been one of the hardest, most emotionally trying things she had ever done in her life. Every day since then she had been challenged in ways she hadn’t ever thought possible. With questions she didn’t have answers for, tears she didn’t always know how to console… Rachel had managed to confound Cuddy on a regular basis.
Yet those first few weeks not withstanding, Cuddy had never regretted her choice, never even questioned it. To be sure, in this very moment, she had never been happier to have had her little girl. Because if she had dated House, if they had broken up and he had done that, without Rachel to keep her grounded, Cuddy was sure she would have lost her mind.
But with her daughter nearby, Cuddy was able to force herself to focus on things unrelated to House. She could pour all of her energy into taking care of Rachel.
Every now and then, Rachel would try to get House’s attention, and Cuddy couldn’t do anything about that. She couldn’t stop their short conversations from happening. But every time that happened, she deftly steered Rachel back to her, with a book or a couple crackers.
And eventually, several hours after they’d been served what she guessed was supposed to be dinner, Rachel fell asleep in her seat. The second she’d gone down, Cuddy realized how awful the next couple of days were going to be. The change in location, the excitement of seeing something new, had kept Rachel’s jetlag at bay when they’d flown to the Yasawa Islands. But surely going from Fiji to New Jersey wasn’t going to be anywhere near as exciting, and after sleeping on a plane, she wouldn’t want to sleep tonight, would she?
Cuddy suspected the answer to that question was no. And because of that, she had half a mind to wake her daughter right then and there.
She didn’t though.
If one thing had been made clear today, it was that House was right: they needed to talk. Or rather, he needed to hear exactly how things were going to be from now on. Admittedly there was a good chance he wouldn’t listen to her. He was so disturbed that she knew that there was a great possibility that he wouldn’t even be able to comprehend what she was saying. But for her own sake, she needed to say out loud what was on her mind. Whether he intended to listen to her or not was beside the point. Right now he was doing whatever he wanted, because he obviously had no idea where they stood. He had no clue what she intended to have happen. And while she had no problem letting the consequences of his actions take him by surprise, she was tired of watching cluelessly flounder.
Minutes after Rachel fell asleep, Cuddy turned to him. “All right,” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
The sound of her voice instantly made him look in her direction. His eyes were wide with surprise, hesitation easy to read all over his face.
“You said you wanted to talk,” she said with disdain. “Let’s talk.”
He resisted for a moment filled with indecision and suspicion. “I thought we didn’t have anything to discuss,” he reminded her. “Those were your words.”
She shrugged. “I must have changed my mind.”
“Just like that.”
“Sure. Why not?”
There was audible resentment in the dry words, and he clearly picked up on that, because he replied, “Well when you say it like that, it makes me -”
“I don’t care,” she said quickly. “You said you wanted this conversation, and now you’re going to get it.” If it sounded like a threat, she guessed that was because it was.
But he wasn’t frightened off. “Okay. I -”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “You’re not going to talk. You’re going to listen to me.”
He looked taken aback, but he didn’t say anything. She was grateful for that.
“This has to stop,” she ordered, gesturing with her fingers from him to Rachel.
“I don’t -”
“Trying to be friends with her. Reading to her. Watching movies to her.” The disgust she felt was practically dripping from the words. “I get why you’re doing it, but she is not yours.”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I never said she was.”
“That is my daughter. She is not here to make you feel better about what you did.” He opened his mouth, probably to deny it, which was why she quickly asked, “You think I wasn’t going to notice what you’re doing? You think I was going to think that you were, what, a swell guy for doing what you did to me if you were just nice enough to her?”
“I know I screwed up,” he admitted apologetically. “I’m sorry. I -”
“I don’t care. I really don’t.” She smiled humorlessly, knowing just how truthful she was being. She didn’t care that he knew he’d screwed (though she doubted that) or that he was claiming to be sorry (when she knew he wasn’t). “There is no apology you can make that’s going to make any of this okay. I don’t want one, and if I did, you wouldn’t even mean it, House. We both know that you’re using her to make yourself feel better about what you did. Because God forbid you actually spend a moment in your life reflecting upon your actions.”
He shook his head so fast that she knew it meant he hadn’t even considered what she was saying. “That’s not true.”
“Rachel is the last person who thinks you’re a good person,” Cuddy said knowingly. “And you’re using her affection for you to tell yourself that what you did wasn’t really that bad, because she still likes you.” Her lip curled in disgust.
“I’m not,” he lied. She knew he was lying. “I… care about her. I don’t want her to know what -”
“You care about her?” She let her doubt shine through.
He nodded his head and almost seemed honest then. “I do.”
Maybe he did, she conceded. Or… at least, perhaps he thought he did. At that point, Cuddy was sure he couldn’t possibly care about anyone other than himself. But he looked honest.
Not that that mattered.
“Right. She’s your friend.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess she is.”
“And look what you did to her mother,” she hissed angrily. “You care about her so much. You’re her friend, and you….” Her voice was overcome with emotion, and she had to stop talking.
Straightening her back, she inhaled and exhaled. Thus far, he had not seen her be overly emotional, and she refused to let that change now. She would keep control of herself, she told herself, forcing her mind to relax and focus once more.
When she was finally calm enough to continue, she said, “That’s the part I can’t wrap my head around. You ruined her home. When I get back, I know the building inspectors are going to tell me that the property isn’t safe and that I’m going to have spend thousands of dollars just to get it back to the way it was. Which,” she said more forcefully. “Doesn’t take into account the things inside that you ruined. Memories that she and I had.”
He had the good sense to look guilty and keep his mouth shut.
“And the odd thing is: I could forgive you for that. If it had been accident, I could get past that.” She frowned deeply. “But you did it on purpose. You did it intentionally.”
“You do realize that those things mean the same thing, right?”
She glared at him. “You claim to be her friend, but you thought nothing of taking that away from her. You thought nothing of threatening the lives of her uncle and her aunt. You were so wrapped up in your anger that you thought nothing about trying to kill her mother.”
“I didn’t do that,” he said instantly. It was clear both in his tone and his demeanor that he was offended. Apparently being the mad man who drove his way through people’s homes was a title he could live with, but attempted murderer was where he drew the line. “I didn’t try to kill you.”
“Oh, well that just makes me feel so much better.” Realizing that she almost sounded hysterical, she forced herself to calm down once more. “You weren’t trying. You just could have accidentally done it.”
He looked away then. Though he seemed to feel some guilt then, she didn’t back down.
“I don’t know which is worse - that you would do it intentionally or that you would put my life at risk on a whim.” She leaned closer to him, so she could speak more quietly. “Did you even consider that Rachel, your friend, might have been in the house, or how she might have felt seeing you do that?”
He swallowed hard, making her believe that he hadn’t thought of that at all. Rachel’s safety hadn’t even crossed his mind. What he said though was, “I saw you. On a date, Cuddy.” He looked at her then. “I knew you wouldn’t have her there.”
“Oh really?” she asked incredulously, folding her arms across her chest. “And what if I hadn’t been able to get my mother to watch her? What if my sister had brought her kids over, because we’d decided to let the kids play while we had a friendly dinner together? You -”
“You were on a date,” he repeated with increased seriousness. “After our break up, you weren’t going to expose Rachel to some random guy.”
She didn’t believe him though. “You didn’t know I was on a date.”
“No?” He shifted in his seat with excitement. “You think I don’t know what you look like when you’re interested in a guy? You looked happy. You touched his arm.”
House continued to go through the supposed visual tells she had given him, but her mind lingered on the idea that this orgy of violence had been caused by a date.
“You son of a bitch,” she interrupted, practically snarling. “You decided to punish me for being on a date?” One of her hands curled into a fist against her side. “You’re an idiot. I only asked Jerry -”
“Jerry,” he muttered. He obviously didn’t like the name or, she guessed, that she had remembered the name days after the fact.
But she ignored him. “I asked him to dinner, because you were the one who said you wanted to go back to the way things were.”
“How kind of you, to date another man for my sake. Did you deep throat him to make me feel better too? Perhaps you’d like to ride him bareback to improve my mood. I hear letting other guys come in your ass is good for the pain in my leg.”
“You wanted to move on,” she said, refusing to react to his nasty remarks. “So I took your lead and did what I thought you wanted me to. For months,” she explained to him. “I didn’t go out with anyone. I didn’t move on with my life out of courtesy for you.”
“All I wanted to see, all I ever needed to know was that our break up meant something to you,” he told her bitterly. “I don’t care if you moved on one day after we broke up. But you don’t even seem to care that it happened.”
Her cheeks turned red with anger. “Some of us don’t feel the need to wield our pain around like a weapon.”
“That’s -”
“Exactly what you did,” she supplied, finishing the thought for him. “You have been walking around the hospital for months just trying to get a reaction from me. The hookers, the demands, the marriage, the Vicodin - you’ve been desperate to get something from me, to make me feel bad.”
“I didn’t want to make you feel bad,” he corrected with frustration. “I just wanted to know that I wasn’t the only one who was hurt by this. You’ve been walking around like it didn’t mean -”
“No,” she snapped. As soon as she did that though, she glanced back at Rachel. Thankfully her daughter was still asleep. Slowly she turned back around to face House. “You didn’t just want to see my pain. You’ve been throwing punches at me every chance you got. You wanted to cause me pain. You -”
“I didn’t do that,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You did. You have been abusive and cruel. And you think that behaving that way was going to inspire me to show you how I felt?” She laughed, because what he wanted from her was nothing short of ridiculous. “You left me in that hospital room alone. You decided to self destruct and have sex with everything in sight and jump off hotel balconies and destroy my home, and somehow I’m the one who hasn’t shown enough pain over our break up? I’m the insensitive one.”
He looked down at his lap. He only did it for a moment before he clearly forced himself to meet her gaze once more. But for a brief second, her words had clearly had their intended effect.
“You want to see my pain?” she asked, never intending to give him a chance to reply. “Fine. Here are my feelings: I missed you, and even though I knew I had every right to break up with you, it hurt. But I didn’t let you see that, because you’ve been so selfish, acting as though you’re the only one affected by this. You didn’t have any room for any of my emotions, no matter what you say. But since you want to know how I’m feeling, I’ll tell you.”
She wasn’t sure if he expected her to say she wanted him back then or that she still missed him. She had no idea what he wanted or thought she would tell him. Part of her, of course, hoped he knew that neither of those things were sentiments she would express now. Yet there was another part of her that did want him to think those things, so that she could crush him.
“I don’t miss you anymore. Whatever feelings I had for you, you have promptly and thoroughly extinguished,” she said coldly. “I thought there was some good in you. I wanted you to prove that to me, that you might be able to change, that you actually could do better. I don’t want that anymore. The second you put my life in danger, the second you threatened my family’s lives, that ended.”
“I didn’t mean -”
“I don’t care. If you’d had any shred of humanity in you, you wouldn’t have done that. If there were any good at you, you would have done something else. I wanted to believe you were capable of being a good person, but I was wrong. I was so wrong. And as usual, when it came to you doing the mature thing and the thing you just wanted to do, well, we both know what you chose. And I hope it was worth it for you.”
He hung his head a little. “You know it wasn’t.”
“That’s too bad,” she replied as unsympathetic as ever. “Because you’re going to jail for it.”
At that his attention snapped towards her once more. For the first time, his gaze held fear and realization. She did not pity him.
“Yeah,” she said patronizingly. “They’re going to arrest you the second you get back to New Jersey.” But even as she said that, she knew it was more wishful thinking than anything else.
To be sure, he would be arrested. The officer had told her that they would be required by law to arrest him, though it was up to her to decide whether or not charges would be eventually pressed. But whether they would pick him up the second he returned to the state, she really couldn’t say. She was willing to bluff though.
“And then you’ll be going to jail,” she informed him. For the first time in days, her smile truly did feel like a joyous one. “And I’m sure in the back of your mind, you’ll want to hope that you’re going to prison on a technicality or that my testimony - and I will be testifying - was required of me. But it’s not,” she told him, stressing the last word. “When I get up on the stand and tell them I want nothing to do with you, House, I want you to know that I’ll mean every single word I say. I want nothing to do with you,” she repeated. “I want you to go to jail, and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that that happens. Do you understand that?”
He blinked, and though he didn’t cry, she thought she saw tears in his eyes. Again, sympathy was a feeling she could not have for him.
“I’m going to tell a judge and jury that you are an awful, irredeemable person, and I’m not just going to be saying that, because I’m a little mad at you. This isn’t something you’re going to fix with an apology. This isn’t something I’ll forgive you for if I see you being sweet to my daughter. In fact….” She decided right then and there to put a stop to how he was treating Rachel. “If I see you try to be nice to her for one more minute, I swear to God -”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, quickly trying to hide the pain he was clearly starting to feel. “Pretend like she’s not here? Not talk to her?”
“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “Pretend you’re asleep for all I care. Just stop trying to be friends with her. She doesn’t need to be around you.”
“Maybe not, but -”
“Maybe not?”
“But she is,” he persisted, ignoring her. “For the next several hours, she’s going to be sitting next to me. It’s not fair to her to -”
“I don’t care what reason you use,” she interrupted. “Pretend you’re not feeling well. Pay someone else to switch seats with you. But you leave her alone.”
She expected him to, but House didn’t fight her. Whether it was the tone of her voice or the knowledge that she could make his life hell, she didn’t know. But he didn’t disagree with her then. He just nodded his head and said, “Fine.”
He got up then. She wasn’t sure what he planned on doing. Whether he was going to switch places with another passenger or he just wanted some air, she didn’t know. Really, she didn’t care what he did, although she would have absolutely preferred to be separated from him as best as they could manage given the circumstances. But when he returned ten minutes later vaguely smelling like hand soap, she realized that he had merely used the bathroom.
As he sat down, she couldn’t deny that she was disappointed. She didn’t care what he did, so long as he followed her orders, but she definitely had a preference. Still she didn’t complain.
Getting comfortable in his seat, he shot her a meaningful look. What emotion he was trying to express, she wasn’t sure, and to be honest, she didn’t have the energy or the desire to figure it out. But he seemed to be satisfied anyway - or at least resigned to the way things were.
Leaning back in his chair, he looked away and closed his eyes. As far as she could tell, he didn’t fall asleep. He would have had to have been completely emotionless in order to do that after their conversation. Admittedly he was almost there, almost at that point where pain, specifically causing it in other people, had no effect on him. Looking at him briefly, she thought he didn’t even know it. But she could see it in him. He was nearly there, and even if she hadn’t wanted him to go to prison, he clearly needed it. He needed something to pull him back or… make him see what he had done.
Quickly she pushed that thought aside. It wasn’t her job to make him better. It had never been her responsibility to do that, but definitely, it wasn’t up to her now to make sure that he got the help he desperately needed. That responsibility lie, as it always had, with him. And she refused to let herself feel bad for him then, though part of her was tempted.
He didn’t deserve it.
Turning away from him, she tried once more to pretend as though he didn’t exist. While Rachel slept that was easy. Cuddy simply read the novel she had brought with her and didn’t look in his direction. When Rachel woke up though, it was harder. Naturally she wanted to talk to him, play with him.
But he kept his word and did neither. He obviously couldn’t pretend to be asleep the entire time, so Cuddy lied to her daughter once more and explained that House had a headache. Rachel didn’t like the sound of that, of course; she didn’t like hearing that her friend couldn’t keep her entertained. However, she believed Cuddy and didn’t question her mother at all.
Truth be told, it struck Cuddy as odd, as time progressed, that this was happening. Even when House eventually sat up, he pretended to not feel well - even going so far as taking a Vicodin to reinforce that idea (although Cuddy was sure he took the Vicodin for other reasons as well). They were trying so hard to act like they didn’t even know each other, that everything between them was over, but here they were, working together to convince Rachel that something else was going on.
They hadn’t planned this out. They’d agreed House would stop interacting with Rachel, but they hadn’t discussed just what it was that they would do, the lies they would tell. But here they were anyway, presenting a front that seemed perfectly united. Cuddy wanted nothing to do with him, but they were working together with ease at that moment.
She tried not to think about that though. If she thought about it too much, she would feel as though she were drowning in his presence, as though no amount of running away from him would put distance between them. So every time her mind started to head in that direction, she doubled her efforts on focusing on Rachel.
And it was easy. To get through the remainder of the flight, even with House by their side, was easy. It wasn’t hard to distract Rachel or remind her that he wasn’t feeling well. There was nothing difficult about it. The hours passed, not quickly, but without incident.
That abruptly changed, however, minutes after they landed. Cuddy was happily thinking about getting off the plane and, well, not going home obviously. Thanks to the man next to her, she had no home to go to. But she could check into a hotel and take a long hot bath with Rachel, and House would be nowhere near her, and that was what she was thinking when they pulled up to the gate.
And then the police came.
They boarded the plane, the flight attendants announcing that everyone needed to remain in their seats. Some passengers groaned, but if Cuddy felt dread at all, it had nothing to do with being forced to sit a little longer. It was because she knew what was going to happen as they headed in her direction.
She had no idea if they were here because of what she’d told the flight attendant when they’d boarded or if the police had independently been searching for him. All she knew was that they were here for House.
They were going to arrest him in front of Rachel. All of the work they’d put into keeping her out of it was moot now. Because it didn’t matter what they had said for the last twenty-four hours.
The sight of House being led away in handcuffs said it all to Rachel. She was still practically a baby, but she knew what that meant.
And when Rachel started to sob for him, Cuddy scooped up her daughter and held her close. “It’s okay. It’s going to be all right.”
For the first time in days, when she said those words, she actually meant them.
House would be going to jail.
Yes, things would be all right.
Continue on to the next chapter