In the Hues of a Life (8/10)
In the Hues of a Life
(8/10)
M
Synopsis: An exploration of Cuddy’s side of House’s recovery and hallucinations.
A/N: A little time jump in this chapter. This chapter veers away from the Cuddy's job/board storyline, but never fear, it'll jump back in the last two chapters. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
* * *
Chapter 8
* * *
And so they continued on as employer and employee. Cuddy had been skeptical that it would work, let along work for nine months. In the beginning, they had been almost polite with each other.
Cuddy blamed their attempt at a functional relationship.
House just blamed the sex. Later, Cuddy would agree. (It really was too good to give up.)
It wasn’t until one of their patients almost died that they agreed to take the kid gloves off. They would yell, banter, debate, curse, and challenge each other to the answer.
The other fellows were almost obsolete.
And so time passed where their punishment turned into a life, where the harsh gray lines sparked with color and joy. Cuddy would never admit it to him or the board, but she was actually happy working at his side, solving impossible cases, and attending to the patients.
She almost forgot that someone else had taken her job. Almost.
It always hit her unexpectedly in the middle of the night; she would wake up gasping, the night terror seizing her when she realized her entire life’s work had been stolen.
But, House was off the Vicodin. He loved her; at least, she believed he did. He would laugh off his passion for her, but the way he clung to her when they made love only concluded one thing.
And Rachel was a little person now, laughing, talking, walking-a true extension of Cuddy’s heart. Cuddy didn’t know how House would fit into their lives. A love affair was one thing, but what they had was something different. He wasn’t just in her bed anymore. He was present in almost every aspect of her life.
Four months after his return, they stopped taking separate cars to work.
Six month after his return, the board cancelled House and Cuddy’s re-evaluation, pushing it back inevitably.
And eight months after his return, House sold his apartment.
* * *
6:15 PM “It’s never Lupus.”
“And that assumption is going to bite you in your ass one day.” Cuddy walked passed him, onto their porch. They had just solved a case of Bullous Pemphigoid, an autoimmune disorder that Cuddy had been convinced was Lupus.
House pulled at the back of her jacket. “Don’t be sore. You know I’m always right.”
Cuddy rolled her eyes and smacked his cheek with her lips. “You’re lucky, you brilliant ass.”
“That’s two asses in two subsequent sentences. You trying to tell me something?” House smirked.
“Come on. I want to play with my kid before she passes out.” Cuddy pushed through the front door into her, well, their home. There were still some boxes scattered around her entryway from the big move, but for the most part, his stuff had been melded in with hers.
“Rachel! Mama’s home!” Cuddy called out as they shook their jackets off from the cool spring Jersey air.
“Oh, Dr. Cuddy, Dr. House. Good evening.” Rachel’s nanny stepped out from the kitchen.
“Hi Anna, where’s Rachel?” Cuddy looked around expectantly.
“On the couch. She fell a sleep a couple of hours ago,” Anna spoke lowly.
House huffed, “Oh great. The little munchkin is gonna be up all night. So much for thirdzies.”
“Shut up, House.” Cuddy whacked him in the arm. She turned back to Anna. “Did you guys play this afternoon?”
“Not too much. I took her to the park for about 45 minutes this morning. She got tired and fussy so I took her home.”
Cuddy nodded slowly. “Okay, thanks Anna.”
“What’d she have to eat today?” House asked suddenly.
Anna and Cuddy looked strangely at him; he had never really spoken to the nanny before. “She had some milk and bananas around 3 o’clock.”
House took a step towards the living room and looked inside. The little girl was fast asleep on the couch, sucking her thumb. He turned back to the women. “You can go,” he said dismissively to Anna. Quickly, the nanny gathered her things and left.
House limped into the living room and hovered over the couch. Gently, he reached down and felt Rachel’s forehead. A few seconds passed and he nodded, satisfied. He turned back to Cuddy who was standing in the doorway smiling at him. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t say anything.”
“I didn’t.” She bit her lip.
“You’re thinking it.” He pointed at her.
She walked across the room and kissed him. “I’m glad you care about my little girl.”
House groaned. “You are such a woman.”
* * *
7:45 PM “No baf!” Rachel ran back into the living room in nothing but her diaper.
Cuddy followed her with a very displeased look on her face. “Rachel, you have to take a bath.”
“NO!” Rachel screamed, as she hid behind House’s easy chair.
“I’m going to count to three,” Cuddy warned. House turned the volume up on the TV.
“I stay heh.” Rachel stepped out from behind the chair and stomped her foot. She turned to House.
“I only help mute babies.”
“One.” Cuddy crossed her arms.
“No!” Rachel huffed, cheeks red, and crawled into House’s lap, burying herself in the side of his arm.
“Two.”
“Cuddy….”
“House, you’re not helping,” Cuddy sighed, exasperated.
House shook his head and met her eyes. “She’s warm, Cuddy.”
* * * *
11:15 PM “You think it’s the flu?” They stood in the nursery together, talking by nightlight. Rachel was asleep again, knocked out by Tylenol and her temper tantrum.
“Probably. Fever, fatigue. Breathing is normal though. If she starts having respiratory problems, we’ll take her to the hospital.”
She looked at him, trusting absolutely no one more, and crawled into the bed with Rachel. “I’m going to sleep in here with her.”
House rolled his eyes, clearly not happy with that idea. “Cuddy. This isn’t the last time she’ll get sick.”
Cuddy didn’t look at him but instead concentrated on pushing Rachel’s sticky, dark hair away from her forehead. “I know,” she said dismissively.
“Fine.” House left the room. Cuddy sighed and cuddled closer to her daughter. She hadn’t prepared for this with him. It fell into the category of too real, too permanent, too parental. The sting in the back of her throat wasn’t really there, she told herself, and she didn’t really care that he was incapable of finding a way to be a part of their family. She knew who he was; she had known from the beginning. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to swallow.
“Shit,” he swore quietly in the doorway. She looked up and stared at him. He had tripped. He held onto the doorframe, keeping himself from falling even further.
“What are you doing?” She whispered tentatively.
She heard the rug burn on the carpet and watched him plant four legs right beside the toddler bed. He finally plopped down and grumbled, “Needed a chair. You don’t expect me to sleep in a 4-foot long Barbie bed, do you?”
* * *
4:45 AM “House?”
“Yeah, kid,” House answered quickly. Cuddy kept still, her eyes shut as she realized he had never gone to sleep.
Rachel shifted in the bed and moved out of Cuddy’s arms. “‘On’t feel good.”
The weight on the bed shifted and released. “Does your tummy hurt?” He asked gently.
Rachel took a few deep breaths and answered, “No.”
“What hurts?” House pushed.
“Itchy,” she finally cried. House flipped on the bedside lamp.
“Cuddy-,” he raised his voice, but she was already sitting up.
“What is it?” She moved to the side of the bed. House was already standing with Rachel in his arms.
“We’re going to the hospital. Rachel’s got a rash.”
(8/10)
M
Synopsis: An exploration of Cuddy’s side of House’s recovery and hallucinations.
A/N: A little time jump in this chapter. This chapter veers away from the Cuddy's job/board storyline, but never fear, it'll jump back in the last two chapters. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
* * *
Chapter 8
* * *
And so they continued on as employer and employee. Cuddy had been skeptical that it would work, let along work for nine months. In the beginning, they had been almost polite with each other.
Cuddy blamed their attempt at a functional relationship.
House just blamed the sex. Later, Cuddy would agree. (It really was too good to give up.)
It wasn’t until one of their patients almost died that they agreed to take the kid gloves off. They would yell, banter, debate, curse, and challenge each other to the answer.
The other fellows were almost obsolete.
And so time passed where their punishment turned into a life, where the harsh gray lines sparked with color and joy. Cuddy would never admit it to him or the board, but she was actually happy working at his side, solving impossible cases, and attending to the patients.
She almost forgot that someone else had taken her job. Almost.
It always hit her unexpectedly in the middle of the night; she would wake up gasping, the night terror seizing her when she realized her entire life’s work had been stolen.
But, House was off the Vicodin. He loved her; at least, she believed he did. He would laugh off his passion for her, but the way he clung to her when they made love only concluded one thing.
And Rachel was a little person now, laughing, talking, walking-a true extension of Cuddy’s heart. Cuddy didn’t know how House would fit into their lives. A love affair was one thing, but what they had was something different. He wasn’t just in her bed anymore. He was present in almost every aspect of her life.
Four months after his return, they stopped taking separate cars to work.
Six month after his return, the board cancelled House and Cuddy’s re-evaluation, pushing it back inevitably.
And eight months after his return, House sold his apartment.
* * *
6:15 PM “It’s never Lupus.”
“And that assumption is going to bite you in your ass one day.” Cuddy walked passed him, onto their porch. They had just solved a case of Bullous Pemphigoid, an autoimmune disorder that Cuddy had been convinced was Lupus.
House pulled at the back of her jacket. “Don’t be sore. You know I’m always right.”
Cuddy rolled her eyes and smacked his cheek with her lips. “You’re lucky, you brilliant ass.”
“That’s two asses in two subsequent sentences. You trying to tell me something?” House smirked.
“Come on. I want to play with my kid before she passes out.” Cuddy pushed through the front door into her, well, their home. There were still some boxes scattered around her entryway from the big move, but for the most part, his stuff had been melded in with hers.
“Rachel! Mama’s home!” Cuddy called out as they shook their jackets off from the cool spring Jersey air.
“Oh, Dr. Cuddy, Dr. House. Good evening.” Rachel’s nanny stepped out from the kitchen.
“Hi Anna, where’s Rachel?” Cuddy looked around expectantly.
“On the couch. She fell a sleep a couple of hours ago,” Anna spoke lowly.
House huffed, “Oh great. The little munchkin is gonna be up all night. So much for thirdzies.”
“Shut up, House.” Cuddy whacked him in the arm. She turned back to Anna. “Did you guys play this afternoon?”
“Not too much. I took her to the park for about 45 minutes this morning. She got tired and fussy so I took her home.”
Cuddy nodded slowly. “Okay, thanks Anna.”
“What’d she have to eat today?” House asked suddenly.
Anna and Cuddy looked strangely at him; he had never really spoken to the nanny before. “She had some milk and bananas around 3 o’clock.”
House took a step towards the living room and looked inside. The little girl was fast asleep on the couch, sucking her thumb. He turned back to the women. “You can go,” he said dismissively to Anna. Quickly, the nanny gathered her things and left.
House limped into the living room and hovered over the couch. Gently, he reached down and felt Rachel’s forehead. A few seconds passed and he nodded, satisfied. He turned back to Cuddy who was standing in the doorway smiling at him. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t say anything.”
“I didn’t.” She bit her lip.
“You’re thinking it.” He pointed at her.
She walked across the room and kissed him. “I’m glad you care about my little girl.”
House groaned. “You are such a woman.”
* * *
7:45 PM “No baf!” Rachel ran back into the living room in nothing but her diaper.
Cuddy followed her with a very displeased look on her face. “Rachel, you have to take a bath.”
“NO!” Rachel screamed, as she hid behind House’s easy chair.
“I’m going to count to three,” Cuddy warned. House turned the volume up on the TV.
“I stay heh.” Rachel stepped out from behind the chair and stomped her foot. She turned to House.
“I only help mute babies.”
“One.” Cuddy crossed her arms.
“No!” Rachel huffed, cheeks red, and crawled into House’s lap, burying herself in the side of his arm.
“Two.”
“Cuddy….”
“House, you’re not helping,” Cuddy sighed, exasperated.
House shook his head and met her eyes. “She’s warm, Cuddy.”
* * * *
11:15 PM “You think it’s the flu?” They stood in the nursery together, talking by nightlight. Rachel was asleep again, knocked out by Tylenol and her temper tantrum.
“Probably. Fever, fatigue. Breathing is normal though. If she starts having respiratory problems, we’ll take her to the hospital.”
She looked at him, trusting absolutely no one more, and crawled into the bed with Rachel. “I’m going to sleep in here with her.”
House rolled his eyes, clearly not happy with that idea. “Cuddy. This isn’t the last time she’ll get sick.”
Cuddy didn’t look at him but instead concentrated on pushing Rachel’s sticky, dark hair away from her forehead. “I know,” she said dismissively.
“Fine.” House left the room. Cuddy sighed and cuddled closer to her daughter. She hadn’t prepared for this with him. It fell into the category of too real, too permanent, too parental. The sting in the back of her throat wasn’t really there, she told herself, and she didn’t really care that he was incapable of finding a way to be a part of their family. She knew who he was; she had known from the beginning. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to swallow.
“Shit,” he swore quietly in the doorway. She looked up and stared at him. He had tripped. He held onto the doorframe, keeping himself from falling even further.
“What are you doing?” She whispered tentatively.
She heard the rug burn on the carpet and watched him plant four legs right beside the toddler bed. He finally plopped down and grumbled, “Needed a chair. You don’t expect me to sleep in a 4-foot long Barbie bed, do you?”
* * *
4:45 AM “House?”
“Yeah, kid,” House answered quickly. Cuddy kept still, her eyes shut as she realized he had never gone to sleep.
Rachel shifted in the bed and moved out of Cuddy’s arms. “‘On’t feel good.”
The weight on the bed shifted and released. “Does your tummy hurt?” He asked gently.
Rachel took a few deep breaths and answered, “No.”
“What hurts?” House pushed.
“Itchy,” she finally cried. House flipped on the bedside lamp.
“Cuddy-,” he raised his voice, but she was already sitting up.
“What is it?” She moved to the side of the bed. House was already standing with Rachel in his arms.
“We’re going to the hospital. Rachel’s got a rash.”