As I am walking the de praia, praia I listen to the waves crash upon the shore. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face. For the moment the beast inside is quieted. That inner voice that has told me all my life I am not good enough and I can never be “one of them.” That voice that reminds me when you open your coração you get hurt. It was only for the moment though that the beast was resting. I knew that I had to deal with the rage and the anger that I had managed to keep barely underneath the surface for all this time. All my crutches were gone. The vicodin, the hookers, and even the cases didn’t...

"Everything from my dream told me something. Everything that occurred--it was either a fear, a dream, or part of reality. But--" as he spoke his voice had slowed down..
"What? What's wrong."
"I wanted to be with her. The drug trials was reality. The accident was part of reality. The adoption was--want? Stacy was--a fear. What happened to her was a want. My mom, a reality. Cutting--a fear. Something I would have to resort to? Suicide--fear. Another thing I would resort to. Her death. Why should it be a fear? It's not a want. It can't be. It can't be a fear either--a reality?"
"What the hell are...

It was all in slow motion. I saw their four faces, and then fell back, falling stories from the ground. I saw all their faces over the ledge as I descended. The air below me waved my arms and legs around as I came plunging--merely segundos before impact, a whisper appeared to echo in my ear....

I amor you, House

Then--

><><><

--Yes...Falling stories from above, I came down for the last few segundos very gracefully. Not onto cement--a bed.
A bed. A bed. I was right.
As long as I stayed there, I slowly began to hear, smell, and feel all my surroundings. I began to feel a pain--I felt...

A/N: I have no clue what chapter this story will end on but, if I have some ideas I will continue.And about Rachel, she is not gonna be in this....


After about 2 hours of trying to soothe Cuddy in her office, Cameron was paged back to the ER.

Cuddy was exhausted from the days tragedies, and she was about to cry herself to some disturbed sleep, when a nurse came into the room.

" Oh! I'm sorry Dr.Cuddy, I was looking for Dr.Cameron. To tell her Dr.House is back from Surgery and is in the Post-Op room."

" Thanks." Cuddy said to the nurse.

When the nurse went away, Cuddy went to her Office bathroom...

Two days had passed, and it was now two o’clock in the morning. House was at home, sitting with a blanket wrapped around himself as he broke out into cold sweats. The price for going back to his old ways, his body was playing catch-up to his addiction issues. His face was grey, his trembling hands and feeling of nausea were easier to deal with than if he was in a full-blown detox. Losing time, and trying to stop the room from spinning around him, House fell back into the sofa.

A faint sound of knocking on his door, echoed deep in his mind, the loud sound of footsteps approaching unnerved him....

--

(House looked at the X-Ray of Cuddy’s chest; which showed multiple lesions on one side of her left lung.)

Wilson: They said yes, she’s being prepped for surgery.

House: That’s what caused the cysts and the excess trauma.

Wilson: She’s going to be okay.

House: Yeah. She is.

(Wilson left, whilst House let out a sigh of relief and a small smile.)

--

(It was the end of the seguinte day, when Houses went to see Cuddy in ICU. The nurses were taking the tube that helped her breathe out of her throat. When the left House entered and brought a tamborete, fezes from the side of the room and sat on it, waiting...