Mayfield - 5:37 p.m.



"How is she?"
"How many times have you asked me that since?"
"A lot, seeing as you've failed to answer them."

House and Wilson were on the phone, talking about Cuddy. It had been a few days since her surgery and she was recovering brilliantly. With only one round of radiation needed, she was up and about within four days.
This was the third phone call Wilson had with House since his re-admittance. Both of them regularly busy, they had only so much time to talk. Most of the time, they discussed things going on, on both sides, but recently the real gossip was Cuddy.

"...And no one's found out about it."
"Of course. She's functioning properly now, she wouldn't dare to let it slip to the kids that she had cancer."
"Are you coming, you know to the anniversary?"
"Why should I?"
"You've been working there twelve years. It wouldn't kill you to come to at least one of the anniversaries."
"She wants me there, right?"
"I didn't say so." he replied immediately.
"I'm not going."
"Hey, you owe her this at least--"
"Technically she owes me--"
"for not owning up, and telling her about the hallucinations. And now--the dream."
"I will tell her, on my own time."
"Right, because that sounds like you. Just go, it'll be fun. It's an 'around the word' kind of theme. I got something nice you can wear."
"What are you wearing?"
"We're both wearing the same thing."
"Matching? We're going to be matching? Are you attempting a twin look or are we going for quads with Foreman and Chase? Maybe even quintuplets if we add Taub and Thirteen."
"You'll see. I'll pick you up at six."
"I have a feeling she had a feeling." he stated, going completely off subject.
"Had a feeling about what?"
"The hallucinations. How shocked she was. I don't buy it. Or what you described it as at least."
"I think it was the real deal, why wouldn't she be shocked?"
"She would be--but not as much. She probably had a feeling they were about her....she just didn't know exactly what. That's why she--pleaded in the parking lot. Begging for answers. It's driving her mad." he concluded.
"Someone call 9-1-1, I smell the stench of guilt!"
"Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want. Doesn't change things."
"Then just--talk to her. Try to have an actual conversation about this instead of casting it aside. Actually listen to what she has to say."
"I wasn't asking for advice."
"Right."
"Look I don't--"
"Greg?" one of the nurses had tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head and sighed.
"Yes?"
"You have a visitor." she stepped aside, and Cuddy stepped out of her shadow. She gave half a smile towards him. His mouth dangled as Wilson kept talking on the line.
"House? What's wrong?"
"I uh--" Cuddy shook her head. She evidently didn't want him to know she was here.
"I gotta take a nap apparently. Part of a new therapy." he hung up the phone, not at all interested in a reply. The nurse left the two in the hallway after bringing her in. Cuddy made the first play. She had his jaqueta hanging over her arm as it folded over her other as she stood very prominent before him.
"You left it in my office." she uttered meekly.
"Is that all you're here for," he asked as he walked closer to her. He continued.
"because either way, you've wasted your time."
"I didn't come here for small talk, House. I came here, for answers. And I don't care how much time I have to waste until I get them." she looked up at him proudly as he squinted his eyes at her. He gave a curt nod, and spoke again.
"Wanna go outside?" he asked, looking from his right to his left.
"Will they care?" she asked a little concerned. He shook his head, and rested his hands on her shoulders, guiding her down the corridor to the courtyard. The evening breeze blew across their faces as they exited the doors.
Walking to the farthest part of the courtyard in perfect sight of the basquetebol, basquete court, they sat down on cold cement underneath the trees. Sitting seguinte to each other with knees raised. Cuddy flung his jaqueta over herself and folded her arms as House rested his arms on his knees and had one of them hold the others wrist. Sitting in a dead silence for several minutes, Cuddy decided to break it--again.

"You know what I'm going to ask, House."
"Yes, I'm well aware."
"Care to venture all the respostas then?"
"One at a time....You any good at basketball?"
"Uh--I thought I was the one asking questions?"
"I have a few too, so be prepared." she wasn't expecting it, but she answered anyway.
"I'm decent," she replied awkwardly. He slowly got up being wary of his leg and walked onto the court as she continued.
"I don't think it'd be fair."
"Oh shut up. I wouldn't underestimate the leg, you know." he limped over and grabbed the worn basketball. She rested his jaqueta on the grama and got up also, walking onto the court. Tossing it over to her, she caught it above her head, and began to dribble.
"You asked me something, so I go. Alternate." he nodded, and she tossed a free throw at the basket. Swish.
"Anyone can make a free throw." she snickered at his remark as he got the rebound and tossed it back to her, before asking her question.
"What--did you hallucinate about me?"
"I think you have a feeling," he said suspiciously.
"I'm not so sure anymore." she stated dribbling the ball again. She bounce passed it to him, waiting for his reply. Dribbling the ball, he carefully kept his right leg a float, as he kind of hopped off the ground, swishing in a two pointer. He watched it fall in as he replied.
"You, were the central idea. You took care of me, you helped me detox--and we slept together." getting rebound again, he dribbled it, waiting for her reply.
"'I slept with Lisa Cuddy'. That makes mais sense now. Wait--was that--?"
"Nope, my turn." he stated teasingly. He threw the ball at her, she barely caught it this time. She dribbled, waiting to hear his question.
"Have things gotten better since I left?" she swished another.
"I'm--I don't--why would things be better?" catching the rebound at the same time, he replied awkwardly.
"Wh-y no-t?"
"Two perguntas one to many."
"Aha, clever." he tossed the ball back to her.
"I don't know. I don't see how things could be good to start with. I was--just--miserable." her head shook along with her pauses. Just staring at the basquetebol, basquete in her hands, she continued.
"I didn't cry myself to sleep every night--but it wasn't really a joy coming to work. It wasn't just me that was miserable--it was everyone."
"It may have been everyone--but rumor has it that misery favored you." she still didn't look at him. She rolled the ball in her hands for a couple segundos before making a shot again--this time it bounced right off the rim. He caught the rebound and she had no choice but to look at him.

"You shouldn't listen to rumors."
"Despite the fact that we both know that one's true?" he asked softly.
"Again, one too many questions. But yeah." he dribbled the ball, and began to limp around the court for a new spot. Tossing it up and barely making it in he smiled proudly.
"Your turn."
"Right." she closed her eyes, and bit the corner of her bottom lip, before continuing.
"How did you know about my cancer..." he tossed the ball up, and it bounced off the backboard. They both let it roll onto the grama behind the trees. He hesitated a little before answering.
"I wasn't sure. It came to me in a dream." Cuddy had a questioning face on as she stared at him from the opposite side of the court.
"While I was in a coma. Everything that happened in the coma was either--a want, a fear or reality. I had no reason to fear you having cancer, unless it was actually happening. It's not a want, I don't hate you. It's actually relatively close to the opposing of hate but. All that was left was reality. I jumped at it."
"You dreamt about me having cancer. How thoughtful."
"Wasn't a pleasant dream anyway."
"Interesting."
"I'm out of questions. Unless you ask something that enables me to, go ahead."
"Can we walk?"
"You can, I have to limp." he said sarcastically. He walked towards her and they went outside of the court and began to walk around the entire courtyard. They took a long path around the back of the building, just talking.
"What else happened in the dream?"
"You died at one point."
"I died? I didn't know you were that evil."
"From the cancer. Actually not really. Sort of. You died from a myocardial rupture after your parents gave you a coração attack a couple days earlier. The cancer--that's what stopped us from saving you. You had begun cardiac tamponade and--so forth."
"That's very elaborate for a dream."
"What'd you expect?"
"What else."
"I was evidently dating you and in amor with you. I adopted the kid, got in a car accident...Became suicidal and cut myself and then eventually I committed suicide por jumping off the building. It was very dramatic but I managed to get back to reality and out of the coma. Even in the dream I knew it wasn't real."
"Wow. That does make sense for being in a coma for a mês though."
"You admitted me."
"What?"
"When I ran away. You admitted me. There was a storm that night--"
"Is it finally coming back to you?"
"Vaguely."
"Right. Wilson and I were--pissed. If you had been conscious when you were first admitted--I think I would've killed you myself."
"Good to know."
"Really. You shouldn't have run off like that."
"I was reaching my breaking point."
"Which is good, because you're supposed to break down and admit that you do have something wrong with you."
"I couldn't stand being there--"
"The hell you could!" she had snapped, and turned to face him. She continued in an aggressive tone, but at reasonable decibels.
"It wouldn't have killed you to just stay there and get some help. We both know how huge your ego is House, we know how superior you think you are compared to everyone else, we all get that! But why couldn't you have handled a few months, to help yourself instead of nearly killing yourself running away? Please answer me that. I would like to hear the clever retort you have for it."
"You shouldn't hold anger like this back. You should've yelled at me before."
"I did." they continued walking as Cuddy calmed herself a little.
"I yelled at you to the point where I fell into tears. Wilson actually had enough sanity to watch it all. You were bandaged everywhere, bleeding and bruised--I gave you the coldest lecture and then--I walked out of there. Wilson caught me por the arms as soon as the doors slid open."
"He never said anything." he admitted quietly.
"Oh--really, that doesn't sound like him. God--and I'm crying over just thinking about this."
"Don't. You should never, never waste anything on me. It'll bite you on the bunda later on anyway. With the size, there's bound to be some place where it can bite."
"Hah. I've wasted enough things on you already. There's no point in stopping now." they both stopped. The sun was descending now. Wiping her face, she got in front of him on the path. Both under a bough from a árvore close by, she confronted him with two mais questions.

"With everything that's been said--I can't help but ask two mais questions." she stepped up, closer to him.
"Do you want a relationship--and are you in amor with me?" his eyes gave a twitch, like a squint as he looked side to side, averting his eyes from her.
"House." she said. He looked up at the árvore above them, staring intently at the details of the bough. Suddenly, he felt a force swipe against his face. She had slapped him.
"We are not doing this again."
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"Answer me." her voice broke. The fear he had only days atrás returned--meeting her eyes. He looked all around, except towards her face.
"You son of a bitch, can you look at me and answer what the hell I'm asking you?" her voice started from a yell and faded into an angry whisper.
"I don't know." he finally said.
"You don't know what."
"For either." he began to walk away, but she forced him back into the tree, taking advantage of his leg. He gave a brief yelp in pain as she held tightly onto his clothes, pressing him up against the bark.

"No! You can't--you're not walking away again. You're not."
"Damn it." he whispered, holding onto his leg. Taking the risk, he met her eyes and stared deep as they filled with tears.
"I'm sorry--but I can't let you walk away again."
"I--don't know. Look, I gave you the respostas you wanted--"
"Not all of them."
"Right. I can't--"
"You can't answer two yes or no questions, or are you that ignorant?"
"What--would you say, if I was--asking you the same thing?" he uttered with a struggle. His leg was throbbing.
"You know, exactly what I would say."
"Why can't you say the same for me?"
"Because I--don't know about you anymore. You were cut out of my life for a mês and then shoved back in. And now you're gone again. I'm even doubting this." in a locked stare between slate and sapphire, time had stopped. For a fraction of a segundo that seemed like forever, a connection had sparked, collided within their stare. Ending it, Cuddy released House from her grip. She reached into her pocket, and grabbed what appeared to be a silver band. A size to fit House's ring finger perfectly.

"This is for the anniversary. For the twenty-five years the hospital has been established you've worked there for twelve out of the twenty-five. Keep it. And I hope you come tomorrow." she didn't dare look at him when she placed it in his hand. As soon as she did, she strut her way back to the hospital to leave. House just watched her walk away, and finally realized the pain Cuddy was talking about when he had left those few days ago.
With the ring tightly in his grip, he ventured out for his jaqueta por the basquetebol, basquete court, and made his way back to the hospital. Going straight for his room.
por the time he had returned to the hospital she was already on the road back. Stifling her tears on the situation, she had to make it back início for Rachel.
Both of them thought of the day, and all the confessions said, along with the thoughts left roaming in the air. As House dug his eyes into the ceiling of his bedroom as he lied on his bed, and as Cuddy drove aggressively back início with her eyes glued to the road, the evening turned into night as the last sliver of sun descended.