cuddys_house | Next afternoon

Next afternoon

When House arrived home, he didn't know what to do with himself. After he stashed his things away in the closet, he went straight to the kitchen to fetch the bourbon and a glass, deposited himself onto the couch and switched on the television. He didn't want to think, about anything. He didn't want to think about Cuddy, he didn't want to think about the fight they'd had, he definitely didn't want to think about the fact that she was pregnant. He simply couldn't wrap his head around it. He wouldn't wrap his head around it. Worse, he couldn't deal with the likely possibility that he and Cuddy were finished.

Maybe they weren't, but that was how it felt right now to him, and he couldn't work out if he felt angry or devastated about that. If he was angry, he was angry at himself for allowing himself to get so close to Cuddy. He should have known he was setting himself up to be hurt because this was how it always ended for him – a relationship ending in ruins because of a situation that was out of his control. And if he was devastated, it was because he was genuinely devastated that he'd just not only lost a relationship, he'd lost a friend, too. A couple of times he almost picked the phone up to call Cuddy, except he had no idea what he'd say to her if he did. A couple of times he almost called Wilson because... well, because he was Wilson. House did neither, however; he watched the TV blankly, feeling sorrier and sorrier for himself the drunker he got, until he felt so drunk he could barely make his eyes focus.

By the time morning came, he felt awful. He was miserable, had a pounding headache, and he felt like the entire weight of the world was on his shoulders. So much for drinking his problems away: when he woke up, everything from the day before came rushing back and he was right back at square one. He didn't want to go into work because he didn't want to deal with Cuddy. He didn't want to stay at home, either, because that would mean sitting around, dwelling on everything. So, he dragged himself out of bed and begrudgingly showered and got ready for work.

Not wanting people to get on his case about anything once he was at work, he determinedly pulled himself together and made it seem like he was fine, like there was nothing wrong... which meant he was way more hostile, caustic and cynical towards anyone who talked to him. Not that many people got to speak to him all that much because he spent most of the day shut up in his office, avoiding the world as much as he was avoiding any and all issues that confronted him.

Come mid-afternoon, however, he couldn't stand being holed up in his office any longer. He wasn't really sure if he needed to vent or talk or if he just needed to see a familiar face that he felt safe enough around, but when he left his office he headed straight down the hall to Wilson's office. He didn't knock or even check to see if Wilson was in a consult, just barged through the door, though he shut it quietly behind him. He stood in the middle of Wilson's office, probably looking as troubled as he felt and after a few moments, he then moved across to the glass door that overlooked the balcony which joined their offices.

He tried to think of something to say. Except now he was here, he couldn't think of anything to say, and he didn't want to just blurt out that Cuddy was pregnant and what the fuck was he going to and by the way he was pretty sure he'd ended it with her even though that wasn't what he wanted and, oh by the way, he'd been seeing Cuddy for the past almost month, sorry I forgot to tell you. So, he just stood there silently, staring out at the cloudy day. The clouds were low and some of them dark. It would probably start raining soon because those were definitely rain clouds.

“What a crap afternoon,” he finally said.

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"Boy, you never do anything in a small way," Wilson observed, still stunned by House's news.

House never did anything without a generous helping of drama either but he hadn't come to Wilson's office angry and ranting this time. He was subdued and hurting and that usually meant something had affected him deeply. Wilson's gaze dropped to where House was rubbing at his bad leg. That had always been a good indicator of when House was hurting emotionally. His leg always hurt more when he was upset or depressed. Of course, his leg wasn't supposed to be hurting at all after the ketamine but Wilson supposed that the subconscious didn't pay attention to those kinds of technicalities.

"Did you mean it? Do you really want to be finished with Cuddy?" Somehow Wilson didn't believe that. House could be incredibly callous about people and relationships but if he'd gotten himself into a 'thing' with Cuddy, Wilson had to believe that 'thing' meant something to him. He hoped it did.

"Do you care about her? Or was this just a fling that got complicated?"

Even House couldn't deny Wilson's observation. This was definitely no small matter. But the hell of it was, he didn't even have any control over how this situation had turned out. Even the relationship itself with Cuddy had seemed to spiral out of control until he'd found himself falling for her, leaving him no easy way out if things went bad. Which they had. In a major way, just like Wilson had remarked.

House lowered his eyes and looked to the side at Wilson's first two questions. If he took away the factor of the pregnancy, then no, he didn't want to be finished with Cuddy. But he didn't want to deal with Cuddy being pregnant, which meant he couldn't deal with Cuddy. But... he could remember just how cruel his parting words had been, and they hadn't just been cruel to Cuddy, either; he'd found them equally cruel to himself. It was a parting shot that backfired, more or less.

He raised his eyes to Wilson again, at his next two questions. "Caring about people always makes things complicated," he argued. "Especially people you're in a relationship with."

He knew he hadn't really answered Wilson's question. He didn't really know how to. He found it difficult to admit things like that, both to himself and to other people. It was therefore easier to turn it back onto Wilson. "You of all people should know that," House continued.

He sighed quietly and gavehis thigh another small rub, then said, "As for meaning it... Some things are said in the heat of the moment." He squeezed his thigh firmly a couple of times. "But it doesn't matter whether I meant it or not because..."

He drew in a small but sharp breath and held it for a moment, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, feeling completely lost and overwhelmed by the fact that Cuddy was pregnant and how complicated that made the situation. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, hating how vulnerable he sounded.

"It does matter. It matters to you," Wilson said when House said it didn't matter whether he'd meant it. "We're not talking about what Cuddy thinks right now. I don't care what Cuddy thinks." Wilson pulled a face because whenever he said something stupid like that, it always came back to bite him in the ass. "I mean I do care--of course, I do--but you have to decide what you want before you can deal with what she wants."

Wilson rubbed both hands over his face, then gave himself a shake. He was way out of his depth here. Normally he had no trouble telling House what to do...and then watching House not do it. But this...this was a situation Wilson had never dealt with himself and certainly not one he'd ever expected to see House dealing with. And Wilson had only just learned about the whole situation. He needed a little advance warning to do his best work.

"I think you do know what you have to do. And you have to start by talking to her. Talking, not fighting," Wilson said. He was genuinely sympathetic because there was no way he'd want to be having that conversation. Definitely no way he'd want to have that conversation with Cuddy because she could be a little intimidating. Not as scary as House but not a pushover either.

"And...I don't know...have you ever actually thought about being a father?" Wilson knew House's typical reaction to the notion. It was much like his typical reactions to topics like love and relationships--instant and highly negative. But if House was capable of love--and Wilson knew he was--then he should be capable of fatherhood. Probably.

"I know it's not something you want to do, but maybe it's something you could do."

In the midst of his brooding about this, House threw Wilson a brief questioning look when he said he didn't care what Cuddy thought. Despite Wilson clarifying what he meant, House had an urge to probe into how much of a Freudian slip his original phrasing sounded, just to take the focus off himself and the topic of the conversation.

He didn't, though, because Wilson's advice of deciding what he wanted before worrying about Cuddy's decision struck a chord with him. "I don't know what I want," he replied. "If I knew, I wouldn't be here having this conversation with you."

He watched Wilson rub his face, then looked away when Wilson began on the fact that he needed to talk to Cuddy. Talk, not fight. House wasn't all that sure talking without fighting was even possible because Cuddy was headstrong, he was headstrong, he didn't want a child and she did, and he felt trapped and she'd kept claiming he wasn't trapped, and... The whole thing was just a huge, overwhelming mess. Not to mention the cruel words that had been exchanged between each other. Words that couldn't be taken back, no matter how much either of them may not have meant them. House likewise rubbed his face before returning his hand to his thigh to continue rubbing that anxiously instead.

"Talk about what?" House asked sharply. "What we've already talked about?" He was about to add that it hadn't even been a talk because of how it had escalated into a nasty fight but Wilson then added a suggestion that earned an incredulous, defensive look from House.

"I just got shot," he fired back over the top of Wilson telling him fatherhood is something he could do. "You think this is what I want to be dealing with right now? I'm dealing with enough as it is. Some days, I feel like I can't even function properly, so how the hell would I even be cut out for being responsible for a kid? Of course it's not something I could do, even if I wanted to."

He hadn't meant to blurt all of that out, but the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he had a chance to even think about them. Hearing himself say them out loud felt a bit like a shock to the system because he almost didn't fully realise that had been one of his worries, due t being so caught up in a storm of confused thoughts. He fretfully ran his fingers over his chin and mouth, then dropped his hand away with a kind of desperate sigh. Unable to remain sitting because he needed something to do, and not just because his leg his aching, he stood up with his cane to begin pacing Wilson's office.

Wilson gave a helpless shrug when House repeated the fact that he didn't know what to do. Wilson didn't know what he should do either. Normally he'd say that a man needed to take responsibility for the children he fathered whether he'd intended to be a dad or not. It was the way Wilson had been raised. It was what he believed. The trouble was House was not a normal person and Wilson was genuinely worried that forcing House into a situation he didn't want anything to do with would cause more harm than good--for House, for Cuddy and for the baby.

He also didn't know what Cuddy wanted, which, despite the way his comment earlier had sounded, he did care about. He was just hearing all this now, though, and he hadn't had a chance to talk to her, hear her side of the story. Although, if it came right down to it, he'd do his best to protect House because...well, that's just the way it was. He always put House's needs first.

"Whoa, whoa," Wilson interjected when House started going on about the shooting. This was more news Wilson was just hearing, and damn it--he was sure he'd asked House how he was doing. Not that he was surprised that House hadn't confided in him but it was still frustrating.

Wilson watched House begin to pace. His gaze was drawn to the balcony door just as heavy rain drops began to pelt down against the glass and he could hear a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Well, that seemed fitting somehow.

"I get that you don't want to deal with any of this but the fact is you have to make a decision," Wilson said bluntly. "If your issues are what's preventing you from considering fatherhood...well, people deal with personal issues and kids every day. Of course, that means you have to actually deal with your issues."

He raised one hand in an almost apologetic gestures. He honestly didn't see House becoming willing to deal with his issues for any reason and certainly not for a baby he didn't want.

House reeled around on Wilson when he said House had to deal with his issues. God, not you, too, he wanted to snap. Cuddy had been on his case about 'dealing' with his issues, and now Wilson was doing the same thing. He was dealing with his issues, his way. But that didn't mean he wanted to deal with Cuddy having a baby and that certainly didn't mean he'd be any good at being a father, no matter how much he dealt with his issues.

"Yeah, because getting shot is an every day thing to deal with," House shot back sarcastically. At Wilson's apologetic hand gesture, House threw his arm out in frustration. "I wouldn't make a good father. That's what's preventing me from considering it because it's not something I ever intended to consider. Ever."

He dropped his arm to his side and looked away towards the door, and noticed rain pelting heavily against the glass. The more he talked about this, the more confused he was getting... and the more uncomfortable he was getting about talking about it, too, because hearing himself speak was like looking at himself in the mirror and he didn't like facing facts about himself on top of facing the fact that he had to make a decision.

He lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead before he turned around so his back was to Wilson. He looked out the window, watching the rain pour down the glass. "Things were just getting really good, too," he said quietly. "I should've known it wouldn't last. It never does."

"I never said getting shot was normal. I never said it would be easy to deal with, but it is possible," Wilson argued. This was another lecture he'd delivered on numerous occasions. Another lecture House had ignored. He seemed to hoard his psychological scars, like he was almost proud of them. But maybe this time, with the trauma of the shooting, it would be enough to make House consider getting help. Right, and pigs were out there swooping through the rain clouds on their little piggy wings at this very moment.

"Just say the word," he added, because he was a chump and he still, after all these years, believed House could be helped. And because he believed, he couldn't stop from either offering advice or trying to get help for the stubborn jerk no matter how many times House rejected it. "I'll hook you up with any prescriptions you need. I can even refer you to a therapist. I know a couple of good ones. A couple that might even be able to handle a messed up case like you."

Wilson got up from his desk and joined House by the window, standing just behind his left shoulder. He stared out at the rain and let out a frustrated sigh at the wistful note in House's voice. Wilson hadn't heard that...well, not since Stacy. House really was an idiot if he let this chance get away from him.

"Then do something about it. You wouldn't give up on a patient just because the case got complicated. You shouldn't give up on a relationship just because it gets complicated either." Wilson turned his head, ignoring the rain and looking at House. "I don't know if you can make a relationship work. I don't know if you're capable of being a father. But you don't know the answers either."

"I don't need help," House replied curtly.

He felt like he'd been repeating that statement continually for the last month or two, like he was a broken record. He still thought that if he said it enough it really would come true and everything to do with the shooting, and everything else, would go away. While he recognised to a point that things weren't right, he wasn't willing to employ any kind of help because doing that would mean admitting weakness as far as he was concerned. And not just weakness but admitting that he needed to face stuff. He didn't want to face stuff.

He was aware of Wilson moving up behind him, but he didn't acknowledge him. Not until Wilson's spoke, anyway. He lowered his head so he was looking down, then turned his head to look at Wilson. "Except for the part where relationships aren't differentials," he replied. Then he pulled a mock confused look, effectively being sarcastic towards Wilson. "Wait. That sounds like something you would say."

He peered at Wilson with the same sharp look for a moment, then eased off and looked away again, his head hanging low. "That's the problem with not knowing," he murmured. "Being afraid to find out in case I'm right."

And wasn't that a weird thing to think because House always had to be right. But in this case, he really was afraid of what that would mean if he was, at least in terms of being in a relationship with Cuddy. In terms of being a father... well, he still refused to accept that Cuddy was pregnant on most levels, let alone accepting that he had to make a decision about what role he wanted to play in that, if any at all.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to speak a language you understand," Wilson retorted dryly when House pointed out that relationships weren't differentials. He let House's sarcasm go in one ear and out the other, though, because he was serious. House would go to the mat for a patient but he never fought for himself, not really. He'd fight over the little stuff but when it came to the big stuff, the scary stuff, House retreated. He was too afraid.

Wilson glanced at House when he said exactly what Wilson had been thinking--that he was afraid. "Wow," he said softly. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

He scratched his head, then shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked slowly to the other side of the room. He stopped a few feet short of the door to the hall and turned back toward House.

"Okay, so lots of complications here. Maybe you need to ignore the complicated stuff and focus on the most basic question--the one with only two possible answers. That question is do you continue the relationship or not?" Wilson held out one hand. "Choice one: end the relationship now. Result: you're miserable." He held his other hand out to the other side. "Choice two: you continue the relationship. Result: unknown. Maybe you're miserable, maybe you're okay. Maybe you're even better than okay."

He raised both hands in a questioning motion. He felt like his analysis had proven what he already thought--that House needed to talk to Cuddy and try to find a way to make this work. He kind of suspected that the best House could hope for was a little miserable mixed with a little okay-ness. Truthfully, he suspected that was the best House could do in any situation given his personality. But a little bit of okay-ness was maybe enough.

"I know which one I'd choose."

House didn't answer Wilson when he voiced his realisation that House was in love with Cuddy. He didn't look up, either, just kept his head hanging low. No point in denying it because it was true. He was kind of a bit afraid of coming out and confirming it, too. So, he just stayed silent while Wilson made his way across the room.

He looked over his shoulder in Wilson's direction when Wilson began speaking again, though, and half turned on the spot to face him a little more. He still didn't look at him, though, not while he voiced the different options House had. One of the things House could always count on Wilson for was to be his voice of reason, even if House didn't always end up listening to it.

He finally glanced up directly at Wilson when Wilson said he knew what he'd choose. The fact remained that it didn't matter which way House chose to go with this, he wasn't going to be able to ignore this pregnancy. But the fact also remained that he didn't want to end it with Cuddy. He'd had it in his mind that he was going to stick with it for the long haul. He always wondered at the back of his mind just how long the long haul would end up being, but he never expected something like this to come along and rock the boat so ferociously.

After a moment of silence, House lowered his gaze with a small, almost imperceptible nod. Maybe subconsciously, he'd always known what he'd end up choosing, too. Maybe he just needed to hear it out loud to try and help him reach some kind of decision. It wasn't much of a decision because there was still the part where Cuddy was pregnant and he didn't know what to do about that. But as for his relationship with Cuddy...

He turned so he was facing Wilson fully, his eyes settling on Wilson at random intervals between darting them elsewhere. He felt so awkward and uncertain and confused. But he at least had come to a decision about something. He met Wilson's eyes again, then nodded slightly again, a little more assertively.

"Okay," he murmured, more to himself than to Wilson. He drew in a deep breath and stood a little straighter, then tentatively met Wilson's gaze once more. Right now, he felt very grateful to have someone like Wilson to turn to. "Thanks," he offered, still murmuring.

"You're welcome."

Wilson sounded almost suspicious when he spoke because he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for House to contradict his analysis or simply tell Wilson he was an idiot. He wasn't used to House showing gratitude. Then again, he wasn't used to seeing House in love either. It was a little disconcerting.

"I'm glad you told me about Cuddy...because I was starting to think you were avoiding me. I'd call, I'd stop by your apartment and you never answered." Wilson gave House a small smile, trying to lift his mood just a little. He knew House would brood over everything, perhaps necessarily. He had a lot to deal with. But that didn't mean he couldn't spare a moment to joke around with a friend.

"On the plus side, I actually have cash in my wallet since my expenses have been much lower the last few weeks. It's amazing how much cheaper lunch is when you only have to buy one."

House picked up on the wariness in Wilson's tone. He could understand it, too, because he knew how rarely he expressed gratitude. He was glad Wilson didn't make an issue of it, just like he was glad Wilson didn't make too much of an issue of the fact that he'd been pretty MIA lately. He wasn't about to explain exactly where he'd been those times Wilson had tried to contact him, either. He'd confided in Wilson enough; he didn't need to go into details of what he and Cuddy had been up to, such as their weekend away to Ocean City. Maybe another time he would. But for now, he'd divulged more than enough.

He wasn't in any mood to really joke around, but he did manage a small half smile at Wilson's remark about having money in his wallet. "The plus side to that being that money saved means more money to spend. On me."

He glanced quickly at his watch, then threw an equally quick glance towards the door that led out to the balcony. It would be time to start thinking about heading off home soon, and he really wasn't looking forward to heading home in the pouring rain. He also didn't want to stay too much longer in Wilson's office in case Wilson started steering the conversation back to Cuddy's pregnancy, or even Cuddy herself. House had discussed what he needed to discuss; he didn't need to go into anything else further, not right now. He wanted to make a break for it now while the conversation was diverted and the mood shifted to something a little lighter.

"Guess you can keep that money saved for another rainy day. Which will be tomorrow, if the weather forecast is accurate." He started towards Wilson, adding, "Until then, I should get back to work, seeing I've got a lot of it to avoid."

"Assuming you get to that money before my ex-wives do," Wilson joked dryly.

Wilson raised his eyebrows in an expression of mild disbelief when House said he had a lot of work to avoid. He'd been keeping tabs, mostly by asking Cameron or Chase, and as far as he knew, House had little work to do. Wilson figured House was trying to avoid all the other non-work things on his mind.

Wilson simply shrugged, though, and walked back around his desk to take his seat. He figured he'd gotten House to listen as much as possible for one day and it wouldn't help to push him. Besides, the mess House had himself in wasn't going to get resolved in one day.

"Well, you know where I am, rain or shine," Wilson offered, hoping House would understand that he could talk to Wilson any time about the big stuff. Actually, as caught up as Wilson was with his own work, he wouldn't even mind distractions over the small stuff.

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Next afternoon

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