Confessions of Loneliness The House Fan Fiction Archive Home Quicksearch Search Engine Random Story Upload Story   Confessions of Loneliness by kievljanka Confessions of Loneliness Dr. Lisa Cuddy opened her eyes and sighed heavily. She rolled over on her side and glanced at the bright digits of her alarm clock with weary eyes - it was already 1:23. Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was obvious that sleep was nowhere in sight. So she got up, wrapped a silk bathrobe around herself, and padded barefoot into the living room where she flicked on the light. On the coffee table was a copy of Crime and Punishment. After pouring herself a glass of cold water, she picked it up and began reading. Just as Cuddy was reabsorbed in the text, a quiet knock sounded on her front door, making her heart skip a beat. Although she had lived alone for years in this house, she felt uneasy upon hearing unexpected knock so late at night. Her heart began to beat faster as she cautiously put down the book and got up, taking a few steps across her living room, towards the front hallway. The knock sounded again. It was soft, not anxious or nervous sounding - but hesitant. She took a deep breath and instantly relaxed, deciding that it could be no one else but Dr. Gregory House. He had no regard for anyone but himself, and wouldn't think twice about disturbing someone in the middle of the night if it struck his fancy. Besides - anyone else would naturally ring the doorbell. House on the other hand, did what he pleased, as long as it made sense to him (anyone who thought he was being outrageous, he'd usually consider an idiot). Cuddy peeked through the peep hole in her door, and having confirmed her suspicions of who the late night visitor could be, opened the door. "House!", she exclaimed breathlessly, pulling her robe tighter around herself and retying it. The expression on his face was dreadful, it scared her half to death. For a second she wondered if someone had died. "Cuddy", he solemnly greeted her, acknowledging her presence with a stiff nod of his head. "House!", she exclaimed again, for lack of anything better to say. "What's wrong? What the hell happened? It's nearly two in the morning...why didn't you call? Why didn't you ring the door bell?". Quickly these nervous questions avalanched out of her mouth. He shrugged his shoulders in response to all of her questions. He had yet to look at her face. House's behavior could hardly be classified as `normal' very often, but this was definitely abnormal - even on his standards. "I'm sorry...", he said in his rough, calloused bass, "...if I disturbed you.". "Now he was apologizing? And concerned about disturbing me? This can't be good..." Cuddy thought to herself. She sighed nervously, "It's okay...I wasn't doing anything.". "May I come in?". The softness of his voice only made her anxiety grow. "Of course...", she stammered and led the way to her kitchen. Leaning more heavily on his cane than usual, House silently followed her. She motioned for him to take a seat and make himself more comfortable. He eased himself onto a bar stool near the counter, wincing slightly at he put more weight on his bad lag in order to sit down. Cuddy stood across the counter from him, leaning on the counter for support, wondering if she was ready for whatever he was about to throw at her. House finally lifted his eyes to hers, and instantly felt a pang of guilt for being the source of worry so obviously written on her face. "House...", she said softly, "what's wrong?". "I uhh..." his eyes left hers and circled around the kitchen as he searched for an explanation. "I needed someone to talk to.". He noticed that her expression instantly softened, but the worry hadn't left. Although she was the dean of medicine, his boss and an incredibly strong woman; House thought she cared too much and took other people's troubles too close to heart. Why should she worry about him? Then again, that overly caring nature (which he believed did her no good, but he admired her for it anyway) made her a better doctor. As he was contemplating this, House was caught off guard. Of all the things in the world, he would not have expected what happened next. Cuddy reached for one of his hands across the counter, placed it into her two small hands, and slowly, softly began to stroke it with her fingertips. Her face almost looked pained ("Could it be because she thinks I'm hurting?" House wondered instantly, almost hopefully), but she quickly composed herself. She didn't stop stroking his hand, just nodded silently and frowned. House felt his body start to fidget and his stomach to roll anxiously. He wondered why she was doing this, wondered why she was freaking out on him, acting all...motherly and soft. But after a few seconds, he couldn't help but gently close his eyes and take delight in the gentleness of her touch, her smooth and warm hands. He figured it was all in his head, but he could have sworn his pain - both emotional and physical began to melt away. His heart seemed to beat easier, his chest expanded a little more freely, and his mind began to numb pleasantly. House valued few things more in the world more than his cognitive ability. But when his thoughts began softly drift and things faded from focus, he decided Lisa Cuddy was by far the most narcotic he had ever tried. "Thank you, Lisa.". His bass was so soft and tinged with the slightest note of melancholy - it almost made Cuddy want to cry. She instantly dropped his hand, as if she had burned herself; having realized that she had been touching and comforting him for longer than what she deemed appropriate. House understood the expression on her face. He could tell she let go not because she wanted to, but because she wasn't sure if it had been too much or if it had made him uncomfortable (little did she know that it had done just the opposite). Sheepish realization bloomed over her face. "Sorry. I...you worry me...", she stammered and took a few steps back from the counter. "You want some tea?", she offered pleasantly, trying to things down and make him feel more at ease. "Sure, thanks.". "Chamomile?". "Chamomile would be just wonderful.". It was exactly the sarcastic, biting comment that she would typically expect from him, but this time she could tell from the tone of his voice that he was being serious and appreciative. House watched as she set the kettle on the stove, pulled a chair up so she could comfortably face him, and sat down. She brushed a dark strand of hair behind her ear and sighed so softly, he barely heard. He was so happy he had come. She was so beautiful - just being around, being in her presence made him feel instantly better. He figured it was time he spoke. "Lisa, I'm sorry I barged in on you like this. I just felt like I ... needed to be with someone. I felt ... lonely.", the last word was almost a question. As if he had never experienced loneliness before and he was just learning the bitterness of the emotion. "Well, you came to the right person. There's few people that know more about loneliness than I do...", Cuddy thought sadly to herself. But she looked gently into his blue eyes and smiled the kindest, warmest smile she could muster. House was an ass sometimes, but now he was being genuine. She decided she'd do what she could, actually, all she could, to make him feel better. "Because he came to me. Because he needs me.", she thought, and right away shook her head to throw those crazy ideas out of her head. The sincerity and caring behind her smile stole House's breath for a moment. Her eyes widened, as if she had just had just come to an epiphany. But then she shook her head as if to get rid of sour thought. "I'm sorry House.", she told him honestly, looking him square in the eyes. Not many people dared to do this. He knew how his gaze was intimidating at times; but Lisa Cuddy was one of the few people he had ever met that could (and did) hold her own against him. The look in her eyes was strong, but not harsh - it was unfathomably gentle at the same time, like the rest of her. "It's never a good feeling - feeling lonely, like you need someone, anyone to talk to...". He watched her closely. She was momentarily silent, thinking and then clearly, firmly said, "I'm glad you came to me.". Cuddy watched in fascination as a radiant smile of genuine joy spread across House's face in response to the words she had just uttered. She so very rarely witnessed him smile like this. Most of his smiles were goofy, sarcastic or more like smirks or playful grimaces. But this was a beautiful smile. The skin in the corner of his eyes crinkled and she discovered...he had dimples? ...and his eyes were...twinkling with happiness??! She blushed, as if she had seen something that was unintended for her eyes. Once she collected herself, she continued, grasping for an explanation, something to defend her argument, in case he thought he'd make a joke out of it. "I'm serious, Greg! (She watched as he grinned again, like the Cheshire cat, at the sound of his name.) It's not wrong to have a friend. I'm glad you trust me enough to come and speak to me so sincerely. You know perfectly well that being a doctor doesn't always exactly lend itself towards easily making friendships, let alone relationships. Look at me, for example! You think I don't feel the exact same way sometimes?!", she nearly gasped as the words ripped out and off of her chest. House's face dropped and they exchanged serious, somber looks. She watched him as he watched her. He didn't appear pleased with what she had just said. He fiddled with his fingers, then spoke, "I always thought you seem so happy.". "I am. I am happy.", Cuddy nodded her head vigorously, as if it would prove she was saying the truth. "But I can't help but think I'd be even happier if I had someone to share my life with.", she told him honestly. The tea kettle started to whistle. She got up, turned off the kettle and began to brew their tea. "Is that why you're trying so hard to get a kid?". The steaming cups of tea that had been in her hands were lowered onto the counter with slightly more force than she had intended. House instantly knew he had crossed the line. Her brows furrowed, and for a second, an expression of slight vexation tainted her pretty face. "House.", he voice was pinched this time when she said his name, this upset him, although it was his own fault. "Did you come here to analyze my problems? I thought you were the one that had come to me. Maybe you should get your own life in order before you start judging how I live mine.". The moments the words left her lips, she hated herself. They were bitter words of self defense when he hadn't even meant to hurt her in the first place. But it was too late to take them back - for a second she saw the pain in his eyes and knew that she had hurt him just when he had finally put himself out on the line, made himself vulnerable and opened up to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.". House saw the weariness in her expression - oh yeah, she regretted it, even before he had even felt the blow. She leaned her elbow on the counter and supported her head with her hand. "Ugh. Since when have I become a bitch?", she thought sadly, mindlessly spinning the spoon in her tea. She lowered her head, ashamed to look him in the eye now. House craned his neck over his tea to look at her face, tried to catch her eye. "Hey...Lisa. It's okay.". Cuddy looked up. Since when did his voice have such an effect on her? She believed, and was assured by his words, confident of his promise that he didn't take too much offense. "I really didn't mean it.", she said from the bottom of her heart, her words thick with apology. "I know you didn't - didn't mean to hurt me. But actually I think you're right.". She seemed unconvinced so he continued, "Who am I to be judging other people - right? I hurt my leg and I'm all alone. So I pop pills, act like a jackass and feel sorry for myself. Good way to find someone, `eh?". He paused, sighed, and looked at her tenderly, "You on the other hand; you're actually doing something to improve yourself, you're taking steps to achieve your own happiness. I'm just digging my own grave...". House hadn't expected Cuddy's reaction. Her jaw literally dropped, she was so clearly and utterly in shock. What other possible emotion could she experience upon hearing him say what she'd never expected he'd admit? Before she had become accustomed him, she's sometimes wear this same expression after he'd astonish her with one of his crude, blunt, obscene, cynical, sarcastic or outrageous comments. But this time, he swore he saw a tear run down her right cheek and glisten for a second, having caught the kitchen light. Lightning fast (not wanting to lower her defenses in front him, he supposed), she wiped the tear away. "That's...that's not true, House. We all make mistakes. Don't be so hard on yourself...", another tear quickly followed the first, but this time, House leaned across the counter and caught it was his lips, tasting the salty droplet. His lips remained pressed to her cheek for another second or two, marveling at the tenderness of her skin, wishing he was somehow touching her, in one way or another, for every moment of the rest of their lives. Just as he was thinking this, he saw her shut her eyes, smile and blush radiantly. "I'll do what I can to help you - you know that House. I care about you.". He knew she meant it and was deeply touched by her offer for help. But he simply nodded in response and seemingly brushed off her comment."Please don't shed another tear for me, Cuddy. My misfortune is my fault, not yours in any way.". As he was speaking, she got up, walked over to him and gently placed her small hands on his stubbly jaw. She was conveniently his height when he sat on the bar stool. One of his arms hooked around her waist and carefully pulled her body closer to his. And without a second thought, Lisa Cuddy kissed Gregory House devastatingly softly, unbearably sweetly on his more than willing lips.   Please post a comment on this story. Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.