Entry tags:
No Children, 3/16, PG-13
Title: No Children (part 3 of 16)
Author: Lola Lauriestein
Rating: PG13 to be on the safe side, R in later chapters
Pairing: Cuddy/OMC, House/Cuddy, House, Cuddy, Wilson friendship.
Spoilers: Everything up to Wilson's Heart, takes place not long after.
Disclaimer: not-not-mine, House et al belong to David Shore, Fox etc. The song "No Children" is by The Mountain Goats, they are awesome and you should check them out.
Summary: Cuddy has a new boyfriend, House has a problem and Wilson is grieving. As matters go from bad to worse, will they be able to help each other as they once did? Friendships under strain and tough decisions ahoy.
With thanks to my awesome beta,
lucyvanflick!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“I hope the fences we mended fall down beneath their own weight”
“Lisa?”
“Hi James, I have to ask you something. It’s a little delicate.”
Cuddy heard the oncologist exhale heavily at the other end of the phone – everything was delicate for him these days. Less than two months had passed since Amber’s death and Wilson was barely able to function beyond two days of administrative duties and board meetings each week. She’s offered him extended leave, suggested places for him to get away from it all, but ultimately respected his attempts to cling on to what little of his normal life remained. Unfortunately his relationship with House was in serious disarray. Without their immature jokes and hurtful banter, they found it impossible to be around each other. Cuddy considered the piece of paper in her hand once more before plunging into the deep end. Surely this was too important for House not to have consulted one of the few people he confided in?
“This might be a little awkward, but has House been to see you? Not a consult as such, but maybe just some informal advice?”
“No, I, uh, we don’t seem to spend much time together these days. I’m trying so hard not to… Well, we’re not good company for each other.”
Cuddy cursed silently at House’s stubbornness. If he hadn’t consulted Wilson, there was no way he’d trust something like this to another oncologist. Most likely he had been puzzling it on his own, not that his medical brain wasn’t a formidable one, but specialists were called that for a reason. That left her in the unenviable position of being the only person privy to his fairly awful secret. She was left to ponder whether the paper had been dropped by accident on purpose. Either way, she couldn’t magically erase the information from her mind; he was a friend in trouble and she was in this now.
Gathering her pager and jacket, she instructed her assistant to hold all calls for the next hour or so. If there was any good fortune in this situation, it was that she had the rarest of mornings, one without a single meeting. Not that it mattered. She would have cancelled tea with the Queen of England if House needed her to. Why didn’t the stubborn ass realize that?
House searched the file for the tenth time, turning over every individual sheet and scanning it like a CSI hunting for molecules of evidence. With some discomfort, he raised himself to standing again and emptied out each of his pockets in turn. He had just poured the contents of his backpack onto his desk with a loud clatter when Cuddy appeared in the doorway, a small white square in her left hand. Her expression was neutral, the poker face she used for police officers and judges, giving nothing away.
“Looking for something, House?”
Her tone was soft, almost a drawl. House hung his head, the universe having clearly made the decision about telling Cuddy for him. Unable to look her in the eye, he mumbled an affirmation. For the first time since all this had started, he felt the tears stinging under his eyelids. He was damned if he would cry in front of her, have her running back to the boyfriend to discuss how weak and pathetic he was. He walked towards her, snatching the paper from her hand before settling himself into the armchair. A lesser woman would have taken offense at the aggressive body language, at his lack of communication. Cuddy, being Cuddy, simply settled herself on the footstool in front of him. It seemed he finally had her attention.
She watched him cautiously, unsure if he would ever meet her gaze. It had taken all of her strength to come in here and remain calm. Her first instinct was to cry, or to yell at him for hiding this from her all this time. As she made her rapid progress along the fourth floor corridor, she calmed herself. This was going to be horrible enough without her allowing histrionics to come into it. After all, hadn’t House been trying to make her notice with his weird behavior all this time? The churning waves of guilt were building up in earnest as she realized she had neglected a friend in pursuit of getting laid. House wouldn’t do exactly the same in her place, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
“When were you going to tell me? This is a positive result on a stool DNA test. PCR markers confirm a cancer diagnosis.”
“You weren’t supposed to see that. There was no need to tell you, I’m doing what I do. I’m sure this Finnan guy screwed it up somehow. Just need to find the actual diagnosis and it’ll all be fine.”
His continued inability to look her in the eye told her all she needed to know, that he didn’t believe what he was saying either.
“House, look at me. House!”
He turned to her reluctantly, the wet tracks under his eyes all too apparent in the glare of office lighting.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Your mom is sick, House, you have to tell me these things. I can be here for you now though. Give me the file, I’ll make some calls. And you should consider speaking to Wilson.”
House fixed her with a derisive stare, the tears doing nothing to dampen its effect.
“I know that your first instinct is to defer to actual doctors, but I don’t want my private business all over this hospital. I won’t take this to Wilson either, he hates me. Not to mention he’s probably had enough death and suffering for a while. It’s bad enough you have to know, but it doesn’t go any further.”
“You can’t expect me to sit here and do nothing while you run yourself into the ground. I’m willing to bet you’re not sleeping, and I don’t even want to think about how much Vicodin and Scotch you’re getting through. You need my help, House. I’ll leave Wilson out of it for now, though I think you know I’m right about getting him in on this. Let me call around some other hospitals, check out some options for you. There are plenty of people who’ll take my call when they wouldn’t take yours.”
As a test, she injected some of her usual snippiness into her last few words, getting the response she was hoping for. With a petulant sneer, he nodded towards the file on the desk; she could have it, but he wasn’t going to do anything as helpful as giving it to her. Content in her small victory, Cuddy grabbed the chaotic pile of papers and began to pore over them as she stood.
“Can’t you do that in your own office? You’re really interfering with my nap time.”
He stared at her defiantly, and Cuddy resigned herself to the fact that she had outstayed her welcome. Clearly the contents of these pages would be sufficient to provoke some kind of emotional response from her, and House had no intention of being on the receiving end of her pity. Accepting his dismissal with a wry smile, she left his office with good grace.
House watched her ass swaying as she walked away, pushing the door closed as soon as she was out of sight. He might have some things on his mind, but he was still a man after all. Settling back into his chair, he reached for the discarded copy of the Southern Medical Journal and resumed the article on colorectal cancer. As far as he was concerned, the smug little voice taunting him about how much better he felt for telling Cuddy could just shut the hell up. Bad enough it sounded almost exactly like Wilson.
Chapter 4
Author: Lola Lauriestein
Rating: PG13 to be on the safe side, R in later chapters
Pairing: Cuddy/OMC, House/Cuddy, House, Cuddy, Wilson friendship.
Spoilers: Everything up to Wilson's Heart, takes place not long after.
Disclaimer: not-not-mine, House et al belong to David Shore, Fox etc. The song "No Children" is by The Mountain Goats, they are awesome and you should check them out.
Summary: Cuddy has a new boyfriend, House has a problem and Wilson is grieving. As matters go from bad to worse, will they be able to help each other as they once did? Friendships under strain and tough decisions ahoy.
With thanks to my awesome beta,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“I hope the fences we mended fall down beneath their own weight”
“Lisa?”
“Hi James, I have to ask you something. It’s a little delicate.”
Cuddy heard the oncologist exhale heavily at the other end of the phone – everything was delicate for him these days. Less than two months had passed since Amber’s death and Wilson was barely able to function beyond two days of administrative duties and board meetings each week. She’s offered him extended leave, suggested places for him to get away from it all, but ultimately respected his attempts to cling on to what little of his normal life remained. Unfortunately his relationship with House was in serious disarray. Without their immature jokes and hurtful banter, they found it impossible to be around each other. Cuddy considered the piece of paper in her hand once more before plunging into the deep end. Surely this was too important for House not to have consulted one of the few people he confided in?
“This might be a little awkward, but has House been to see you? Not a consult as such, but maybe just some informal advice?”
“No, I, uh, we don’t seem to spend much time together these days. I’m trying so hard not to… Well, we’re not good company for each other.”
Cuddy cursed silently at House’s stubbornness. If he hadn’t consulted Wilson, there was no way he’d trust something like this to another oncologist. Most likely he had been puzzling it on his own, not that his medical brain wasn’t a formidable one, but specialists were called that for a reason. That left her in the unenviable position of being the only person privy to his fairly awful secret. She was left to ponder whether the paper had been dropped by accident on purpose. Either way, she couldn’t magically erase the information from her mind; he was a friend in trouble and she was in this now.
Gathering her pager and jacket, she instructed her assistant to hold all calls for the next hour or so. If there was any good fortune in this situation, it was that she had the rarest of mornings, one without a single meeting. Not that it mattered. She would have cancelled tea with the Queen of England if House needed her to. Why didn’t the stubborn ass realize that?
House searched the file for the tenth time, turning over every individual sheet and scanning it like a CSI hunting for molecules of evidence. With some discomfort, he raised himself to standing again and emptied out each of his pockets in turn. He had just poured the contents of his backpack onto his desk with a loud clatter when Cuddy appeared in the doorway, a small white square in her left hand. Her expression was neutral, the poker face she used for police officers and judges, giving nothing away.
“Looking for something, House?”
Her tone was soft, almost a drawl. House hung his head, the universe having clearly made the decision about telling Cuddy for him. Unable to look her in the eye, he mumbled an affirmation. For the first time since all this had started, he felt the tears stinging under his eyelids. He was damned if he would cry in front of her, have her running back to the boyfriend to discuss how weak and pathetic he was. He walked towards her, snatching the paper from her hand before settling himself into the armchair. A lesser woman would have taken offense at the aggressive body language, at his lack of communication. Cuddy, being Cuddy, simply settled herself on the footstool in front of him. It seemed he finally had her attention.
She watched him cautiously, unsure if he would ever meet her gaze. It had taken all of her strength to come in here and remain calm. Her first instinct was to cry, or to yell at him for hiding this from her all this time. As she made her rapid progress along the fourth floor corridor, she calmed herself. This was going to be horrible enough without her allowing histrionics to come into it. After all, hadn’t House been trying to make her notice with his weird behavior all this time? The churning waves of guilt were building up in earnest as she realized she had neglected a friend in pursuit of getting laid. House wouldn’t do exactly the same in her place, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
“When were you going to tell me? This is a positive result on a stool DNA test. PCR markers confirm a cancer diagnosis.”
“You weren’t supposed to see that. There was no need to tell you, I’m doing what I do. I’m sure this Finnan guy screwed it up somehow. Just need to find the actual diagnosis and it’ll all be fine.”
His continued inability to look her in the eye told her all she needed to know, that he didn’t believe what he was saying either.
“House, look at me. House!”
He turned to her reluctantly, the wet tracks under his eyes all too apparent in the glare of office lighting.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Your mom is sick, House, you have to tell me these things. I can be here for you now though. Give me the file, I’ll make some calls. And you should consider speaking to Wilson.”
House fixed her with a derisive stare, the tears doing nothing to dampen its effect.
“I know that your first instinct is to defer to actual doctors, but I don’t want my private business all over this hospital. I won’t take this to Wilson either, he hates me. Not to mention he’s probably had enough death and suffering for a while. It’s bad enough you have to know, but it doesn’t go any further.”
“You can’t expect me to sit here and do nothing while you run yourself into the ground. I’m willing to bet you’re not sleeping, and I don’t even want to think about how much Vicodin and Scotch you’re getting through. You need my help, House. I’ll leave Wilson out of it for now, though I think you know I’m right about getting him in on this. Let me call around some other hospitals, check out some options for you. There are plenty of people who’ll take my call when they wouldn’t take yours.”
As a test, she injected some of her usual snippiness into her last few words, getting the response she was hoping for. With a petulant sneer, he nodded towards the file on the desk; she could have it, but he wasn’t going to do anything as helpful as giving it to her. Content in her small victory, Cuddy grabbed the chaotic pile of papers and began to pore over them as she stood.
“Can’t you do that in your own office? You’re really interfering with my nap time.”
He stared at her defiantly, and Cuddy resigned herself to the fact that she had outstayed her welcome. Clearly the contents of these pages would be sufficient to provoke some kind of emotional response from her, and House had no intention of being on the receiving end of her pity. Accepting his dismissal with a wry smile, she left his office with good grace.
House watched her ass swaying as she walked away, pushing the door closed as soon as she was out of sight. He might have some things on his mind, but he was still a man after all. Settling back into his chair, he reached for the discarded copy of the Southern Medical Journal and resumed the article on colorectal cancer. As far as he was concerned, the smug little voice taunting him about how much better he felt for telling Cuddy could just shut the hell up. Bad enough it sounded almost exactly like Wilson.
Chapter 4