Cuddy kept one hand firmly on House's leg while she reached back with the other to tug the chair forward. When she could reach him easily and not feel like she was bridging a chasm, she remained silent while Megan took over.
The real chasm that had to be bridged was the psychological one between them. Between House and anyone, really. Because of her own experiences with her family and friends, Cuddy firmly believed having others you could rely on made any problem easier to handle. House had spent so much time isolating himself, he had no one to lean on. Even with her, or Wilson--two people who were more than willing to help, he held back. Whether that was because he didn't trust them or because he didn't trust himself, she still wasn't sure.
"This is your way out, House." Cuddy turned her hand so she grasp his, holding it tightly to try to communicate to him she didn't intend to let him go in any sense. "I know you feel like you're trapped right now but therapy and medication and even hospitalization--those are the tools to help you get your head above water."
She glanced down at their hands, then looked up at him again, looking directly into his eyes. "A year from now, maybe you'll still need therapy or meds. That doesn't matter--you'll still have made a year's progress from where you are now. We'll have had a year together. We'll have had a year to watch our kid grow." She gave him a small smile. "You'll probably be teaching him to fingerpaint on the walls and to spit out his peas because they're yucky and I'll want to wring your neck. And I can't wait for all of that to happen."
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The real chasm that had to be bridged was the psychological one between them. Between House and anyone, really. Because of her own experiences with her family and friends, Cuddy firmly believed having others you could rely on made any problem easier to handle. House had spent so much time isolating himself, he had no one to lean on. Even with her, or Wilson--two people who were more than willing to help, he held back. Whether that was because he didn't trust them or because he didn't trust himself, she still wasn't sure.
"This is your way out, House." Cuddy turned her hand so she grasp his, holding it tightly to try to communicate to him she didn't intend to let him go in any sense. "I know you feel like you're trapped right now but therapy and medication and even hospitalization--those are the tools to help you get your head above water."
She glanced down at their hands, then looked up at him again, looking directly into his eyes. "A year from now, maybe you'll still need therapy or meds. That doesn't matter--you'll still have made a year's progress from where you are now. We'll have had a year together. We'll have had a year to watch our kid grow." She gave him a small smile. "You'll probably be teaching him to fingerpaint on the walls and to spit out his peas because they're yucky and I'll want to wring your neck. And I can't wait for all of that to happen."