The afternoon was slowly departing. The sun was reaching down, every minute of every hour. It was glowing. In Cuddy's office, the light was pouring in. Shining and glimmering on all the glass. She was just sitting around, fidgeting, nervous and teary. She sat there staring blankly at the floor waiting for House to come. She didn't know what to say to him, what to do or even what to think. Then at that moment, he walked in. He was grinning at her and he made his way to her desk. When he kissed her on the cheek, she had kept her eyes shut, and began biting her lips. He saw the expression on her face so he backed away. He stared at her, waiting for her to give some explanation. He stared at her, most importantly her eyes. He just stared at them with his pair of piercing eyes before turning his back on her, realizing what her body language meant. He too got slightly teary eyed and began rubbing his face with his hands.
"Why."
"You know why."
"This isn't because of you. They were my own mistakes."
"Mistakes that would never and could never happen."
"I'm human. I make mistakes this isn't--"
"See? You are changing. You just don't realize it. You just acknowledged the fact that you can be wrong. You're never wrong."
Anger filled his face.
"How do you know I'm doing this because of you? What if I'm just changing because I am?"
"You don't change! You've never changed from the first day you entered this world. You've been an manipulative pain in the ass ever since. You changing just--is like everything becomes chemically imbalanced."
Outside Wilson began walking towards Cuddy's office. When he reached the doors, he saw their mouths moving quickly, indicating that they were yelling.
"Shit." He had planned to stop Cuddy before she talked to House, but he was a little too late. So he turned on his heel and made his way out of the clinic back to his office. House and Cuddy continued fighting.
"I don't want you to change!"
"Now you don't! What about all the times before?"
"Changing you, changes all of you. It'd be nicer to see you as a human being but not if it changes your motives as a doctor."
"My career matters more to you than us?"
"Other lives are more important than us!"
"Fine."
House stormed out and Cuddy followed him. They were going to his office.
Once they got there, House began sweeping everything off his desk, cleaning out all his drawers, file cabinets, and shelves. He turned to her after she walked in and said,
"I quit."
"NO. You are not going to quit this hospital." At her last words he threw his cane on the floor, took his right hand and threw it against a picture frame on the wall. When he lifted it off, the whole frame was cracked and where his fist had been, blood remained. Shards of glass fell off and small pieces stuck to his hand. Blood began to drip. Cuddy just sustained a shocked face.
"Our relationship matters more to me than this! I don't give a damn about my job! I hate going to work! I hate having to diagnose patients from my office! I can't bare it when they all give me these stares. Always thinking, "He's a cripple. He takes drugs. And he's my doctor?" I hate getting the pity. I hate being in pain. I hate having to go home with nothing to fill it. At least, now, at the end of the day, I can go with you. I fill your home. Or you fill mine. It's not as empty. I don't get that miserable hollow feeling. It doesn't--hurt."
On the carpet below him, a small patch was covered in his blood. Cuddy just looked at him in tears. Her face was saddened by all the things he had confessed. When she spoke, her voice trembled. It broke off a few times, but she was calm.
"House. I love you, but--if you are changing for me, because of me, I can't--let you. If it means killing all these people-for me, I'd rather us not--be together than sacrifice your patients lives."
House's wounded hand throbbed and twitched. Cuddy's eyes were drawn to it, worried how much pain he might be in. But he gave her a stare saying, I'm fine, I've done a lot worse.
They stood there for a few minutes quiet. Sniffles were brought by Cuddy and deep exhales and inhales of breath were taken by House. Finally they spoke again.
"So are you asking me to break our promises?" He was turned away from her, facing his window. She didn't answer.
"Are you?" He turned around to face her. She was sitting on his recliner with her puffy eyes and wet face. So he walked up to her got on his knees. He look down at the floor waiting for her to answer. But then she put her hands on each sides of his neck, bringing his forehead against hers. He kept his mouth shut, but he was clenching his teeth together. The pain was throbbing. In both his hand and leg.
"I--Love--You. But--"
"Don't. Just---answer."
At that moment, Cameron walked through the doors. She walked in normally, looking at the file she was holding and then stopped suddenly after the door swung closed. They both looked at her, House quickly looked away Cuddy let go of him and looked down and Cameron looked embarrassed.
"I'll just--I'll come back--Later--" Then her face grew a worried and shocked expression. She had seen the patch of blood, the shattered glass and frame and then House's hand.
"Oh--are you?"
"I'm fine."
"He'll drop by later."
She wore a concerned and worried look as she walked out, biting her lip.
After the doors swung closed, House looked back at Cuddy. He took his left hand and swept it across her face. Sweeping the hair off her face. Then he wiped down her eyes, then shifted it to the back of her head.
"Am I breaking our promises?"
"Don't do this--"
"I want to know--"
"Don't make this--"
"Am I letting you go?"
"I can't--"
"Am I letting us go."
"House--"
He pulled his hand towards him which pulled her in. They started kissing, but Cuddy stopped it. She began crying again, grabbing onto his neck, forcing her head against his. They remained in this position for only a couple seconds before he got up. He went over to his desk and stood there for a second, leaning on his desk. Then he took a quick look at his hand, ripped off a piece of his shirt, took out the shards in his hand with were accompanied with winces. He tied the ripped piece around his hand and grabbed his cane off the floor. Then he walked over to the door, stopped and looked at the floor.
"I'm sorry I can't be both things you want. If I could be, or try to--I'd still be fighting for you right now."
She turned away, shutting her eyes and biting her lips, hiding the pain that remained. And he left, as the last streak of light that was shining through the window, disappeared, behind the blowing trees.
---
House slowly walked into Wilson's office. He waited at the door for a second staring at the floor. Wilson spotted House's hand and his face turned alarmed.
"What did you do?"
Then House grabbed a mahogany box out of his jacket pocket and tossed it in the trash saying,
"Been breakin' promises. It hurts a lot more than it looks."
Then he left the room with a quick ease slightly slamming the door.
Wilson just bite his lips together and shut his eyes tight. He kept this for about five seconds before reaching into the trash. He pulled out a small mahogany box. It was the same familiar box he had held before. He held it in his one hand, opening it with his thumb. He stared at it for a moment gave a sigh of deep grief and shut the box. He laid it on the desk and rubbed his face. Then he thought of what Cuddy had said before.
"Give me one good reason not to."
He repeated these words in his head several times. Then said it all under his breath.
"Give you one reason not to? He wants to spend the rest of his life with you."
---
House was sitting in the ER with a bandage around his hand. Small spots of blood were bleeding through. Cameron came back and looked at him. Expecting him to say something.
"She ended it. Reasons that are irrelevant to you. But that's all. We're finished."
She was shocked. Her face was in deep concern.
"How? No! It can't be over."
"Except it is. I may not have accepted that yet, but I will."
He got up ready to leave. Cameron stopped him.
"But she loves you. And you love her."
"Yeah, she just doesn't know how much."
______________________________________________
House played his piano in the privacy of his home. It was the only thing he could really vent to right now. His hands were moving slowly across the keys, tenderly tapping them, bringing the notes to caress the night air. And as the notes rose through the air, tears began to fall. And they fell on the keys of the piano, gently falling, gently landing. But they made it that much harder to play...