Two Americans in London Chp 11

Breaking Points

Thank you all again for your wonderful comments and to all of my wonderful readers, I'm glad you are enjoying my story. This time I tried to include some of the old humor, can't have House and Cuddy miserable for ever lol. oh and I realize how freakin annoying I'm making Cameron, but frankly I can't help it. Comments and critiscm are welcome :)

"Pain has many different forms," House started, "Its one of those little ironic jokes in life because everyone's pain is different, because everyone is different." House muttered into the phone. He could hear Cuddy's breathing on the other end of the line, indicating she was still there and listening.

"So when people tell you they understand your misery or justify it, it may make them feel better, may make them feel like they've done you some sort of good, but in fact the misery hasn't gone away. In fact, their consoling makes you feel more isolated than ever." House explained with a slight edge to his voice as his fingers grazed over his sensitive skin.

"You felt isolated?" Cuddy's voice was barely a whisper.

"I thought you weren't planning on talking to me?" House asked. The phone fell silent again, and House sighed harshly as he continued, "Though everyone around you will install pity in you and try to help you move on, it's all too fast and by the time their pity is gone, you've barely begun to wrap your head around what has happened." House paused, trying to collect his thoughts, "Telling someone to move on is all those people can do for you, it's all they want to do for you, and they want what's best for you." House uttered the last bit with slight bitterness, the burning sensation the rubbing of his palm on his thigh was causing was spreading through his body and he gritted his teeth.

"It was what was best for you," Cuddy muttered in defense of herself.

"Who said we were talking about me?" House replied.

Cuddy grew annoyed, "Then what the hell are we talking about? "

"Cuddy, I can give you false clichés about everything being alright, or I can lie and tell you that the pain will go away. But-"House felt awkward and trailed off.

"Everyone's pain is different." Cuddy finished for him.

House grinned roughly, "Gold star for Dr. Cuddy."

Cuddy groaned quietly into the phone before a silence fell, "I think my pillows need fluffing."

House stood up on weak legs, they wavered slightly before he maintained control once more, "I happened to be voted 'most likely to become a maid' in high school."

"Well get a hold of a French maid costume and get your ass over here to fluff." She ordered and hung up. She rubbed her bandages lightly on her stomach, before pulling up the covers of the hospital bed so she didn't have to see them anymore. She then placed the cell phone that she had left on the bed on the bedside table. She gingerly lowered it down, mulling over her conversation; her numbness had been broken by just a tad.

Foreman tossed the file on the table in frustration, "MRI showed nothing, CAT scan showed nothing, liver biopsy and antibody test showed nothing."

"So in effect, there's nothing wrong with the guy." Chase muttered.

"Except for the fact he just puked up blood." Cameron replied annoyed.

Wilson walked into the room, "Any news?"

All three of the fellows shook their heads; Wilson put his hands on his hips, "Any ideas?"

"This would be around the time House called us all idiots and pulled an insane diagnosis out of nowhere." Chase replied.

"But he's not here," Cameron said looking at Wilson intently.

"You shouldn't need House for every case, you're doctors as well." Wilson lectured returning Cameron's stare.

"You got an explanation for these symptoms?" Foreman asked with an eyebrow raised.

Wilson shook his head, "All I've got is cancer."

"He would have shown improvement on the chemo we tried." Cameron replied.

They all sighed together. Before Cameron spoke up, "We should call House."

"No we shouldn't," Wilson replied putting up his hands.

"Why shouldn't we?" Chase asked leaning back in his chair.

Wilson's brow furrowed in concern, he looked to Foreman for help.

"Sorry Wilson, it can't hurt to get his medical opinion."

Wilson was outnumbered and he knew it, "He may not pick up," he mumbled in a last defense.

"Why so apprehensive?" Cameron asked putting her arms on the desk; Foreman and Chase both looked interested as well.

"He's on vacation." Wilson replied feebly.

"What happened?" Cameron asked once more and Wilson gave her a helpless look, he felt himself breaking under the pressure.

"You've got to be kidding me," Cuddy stared at the doctor in frustrated amazement.

"If you want to leave the hospital, it would really be the best recommended course of action." The doctor replied. Cuddy looked up to House who was smugly smiling.

"This isn't the time for your stubborn streak to set in Cuddy," House said eyes twinkling.

Cuddy sat there open-mouthed staring at the cane the doctor was holding out for her, she took the handle and softly tugged it out of the doctor's hands. "How long do I have to use this?" She stared at the cane in disgust.

"It's a cane Cuddy, not a chastity belt." House teased.

Cuddy threw him a glare but looked at the doctor for an answer, "At least 2 days, to help you build back some strength."

Cuddy sat back in the bed with her mouth slightly open as her eyebrows knit together, thoroughly annoyed. The doctor backed out of the room quietly and House watched him go, cane linked over his arm, still maintaining the smug smirk on his face.

"Oh we're going to have so much fun," House said.

Cuddy's frown grew deeper and she whacked him with the cane, feeling her self control breaking slightly.

Foreman and Chase looked at each other awkwardly, "Cameron," Chase said warningly.

"What?" She said turning around to look at them both, "You're not curious about why we can't talk to House?"

"For about the 100th time this week, it's none of our business." Foreman said.

"We need to call House, Wilson won't let us. Seems like our business to me." She said looking at Chase for him to back her up.

"It's just not a good time Cameron," Wilson sighed.

"It's never a good time with him," Chase muttered, trying his best to appease her.

Cameron turned to look at Wilson with eyebrows raised.

"Fine, we'll call him," Wilson agreed grudgingly and took out his cell-phone. Cameron sat smugly watching Wilson dial the number with Foreman and Chase watching her, each with a slight hint of concern in their eyes.

House watched Cuddy with faint amusement; she was struggling with the cane but wouldn't dare ask for any help. She couldn't quite seem to get the hang of the rhythm, swaying back and forth and kept on bumping into him when she lost her balance, the gravel from the dirt path in the park they were in certainly didn't help her.

"Stupid cane," she mumbled in between the "sorry" she would mutter every time she would smack into him causing him to lose his own balance.

"Not as easy as it looks now is it?" House said, the smug smile never leaving his face.

"Shut-up," Cuddy mumbled her concentration on working the cane.

"I find it helps to put a little ass in each limp, gives the impression you know what you're doing." House replied.

Cuddy stared at him and aimed her cane so the next time she limped it landed on his foot.

"OW!" House exclaimed, "Don't start something you can't win," House said knocking his cane into hers which caused her to stumble lightly, but not enough to do any real damage.

"House!" She hissed.

"We should really get one of those "L"'s that people put on their cars for beginners for you, give people a slight warning." House said as she once again crashed into him.

"Dammit," she muttered, House laughed slightly.

"This is just pathetic," House said and limped behind her, putting his arms underneath hers for support. Cuddy gasped slightly at such close contact and tried to push him off.

"House, I don't need your help," she said struggling against him.

"Look every time you fall over you smack into me, I don't plan on falling on my ass today." House stated, keeping a firm hold on her and pulling her closer. Cuddy stopped struggling, liking the sudden intimacy.

"Alright then smart ass what do I do?" Cuddy asked, House put one hand over hers with the cane clasped in it, and wrapped the other arm around her waist which caused Cuddy's stomach to flip.

"You start like this," House murmured, pushing on her hand with the cane, indicating for her to move it forward. She obliged and felt her muscles and body tensing into the normal routine for limping, but House's arm around her waist held her firm, and his own body pressed against hers forced her and her muscles to move a different way. His own expert limp being passed down onto her. It wasn't just the eroticness of the situation that was causing Cuddy's heart to beat faster but the strange feeling of openness House was displaying. By showing her this, it was almost like showing her a piece of him.

"Anybody can do this," She managed to splutter out; she said pulling out of his grip lightly.

He held onto her still, "It's easy because you have somebody to show you how." He muttered in her ear.

Cuddy shivered at the low vibrations House sent coursing through her ear. "Are you blushing?" House asked teasingly, Cuddy's eyebrows rose and she pushed away from him.

"House!" She muttered annoyed and embarrassed, she limped, taking in what he had said, and made her way to the nearest bench she could find. She sat down and stared across the lake at the massive sky scrapers of the skyline of London. House limped over to her side.

"What do you say?" House asked condescendingly as he lowered himself carefully onto the bench seat beside her.

"Thank you," Cuddy muttered annoyed, she let her cane rest against the seat and brought her eyes back to House, "Who taught you how to "limp"," she said with the accompanying hand gestures.

House rose and eyebrow at her, "No-one did."

Cuddy was a little shocked, "No-one helped you?"

"I had rehab right?" House asked not looking at her.

"If I had known," Cuddy was saying when House interrupted her.

"You couldn't have."

"If I had known," Cuddy continued, "I could have helped."

"No, you couldn't have," House replied finally deciding to make eye-contact. He saw that her lips were about to form another apologetic phrase so he continued, "Everyone's pain is different."

Cuddy stared at him, unable to reply. She frowned concerned and finally understood the true meaning of what he said from that morning. She swallowed, and placed a hand on his knee. "I couldn't have done anything could I?"

"Can I do anything for you?" House asked his question but it was more of an answer than a question.

"No," She replied understanding him. He placed a hand over hers on his knee and let his thumb rub her skin over her knuckles lightly. She felt the need to speak again but as the words were forming on her mouth, House's cell-phone rang in his jacket pocket. She looked at him confused and he removed his hand from hers to pull the cell-phone out.

"It's Wilson," he murmured.