Hey everyone! It's been a really long time since I've written anything and I could tell you why I haven't, but it would bore you. Anywho, here's a oneshot, and as for my other multi chapter fics, I promise I'll update them soon. I promise. *smiles*

Disclaimer: I don't own House, if I did...I can't think of somthing witty.

Kutner didn't really know why he said it. It came out quick and without a thought, and as soon as he said it he regretted it, wishing he could take it back. But he couldn't without looking like an idiot.

He did remember her name, even though he said that he didn't. Kutner had known it ever since Chase had passed out those silly ballots where the hospital staff had voted for who they thought House would fire next.

Remy Hadley. He liked the sound of it, letting the syllables run over his tongue. It fit her perfectly and gave her so much more depth than just "Thirteen".

A day not long after they had been narrowed down to the permanent team, Taub asked her what her name really was.

Thirteen looked at them and said, "You really don't know?"

Kutner shook his head, but in his mind he repeated Remy, Remy, Remy.

--

Kutner told Thirteen that he liked his job, but in all honesty, he did not. He liked the people that he worked with and the off-the-wall diseases and treatment they dealt with. He liked the fast paced action; however, he also hated it. He hated having the pressure of having to come up with something to save the patient right then, and if they didn't, the consequence would result in the patient's death. He didn't like the responsibility of their lives depending on his quick thinking or death being caused by a mistake or having the knowledge of if only I had thought of that, they would have been okay.

But death was everywhere; Kutner could not escape it by quitting his job.

--

It wasn't really a lie; Kutner was pretty sure that Thirteen knew the truth. But still.

It wasn't a cat that peed on House's chair.

--

It was a lie to her, to everyone else, and also himself.

Kutner wasn't over his parent's death.

It was something that had been a part of him for so long he didn't know what it was like not to have that feeling of loss. Some days, sometimes, he could go without thinking of his murdered parents. He didn't always think of the day they died (although he did think about that often). It would be simple things; the crooked pattern of his father's teeth, or the books that his mother used to read to him. Every time he would think of them, he would feel a slight snag in his chest, but then he would smile and shake out the emptiness and go on with his day.

But other times, it would be too much. Once in awhile he would glance at an old photo on his wall, one with him and his mother and father about a month before they died. He would stare at it for a long time, then he would shuffle to his bedroom, collapse on his bed and think, and if he touched his face he would find it wet with tears.

--

Then there was the last time that he lied to Thirteen.

They had just solved a case and he, Taub and Thirteen were in the conference room finishing some notes so they could discharge the patient.

Thirteen got up and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow," she said.

Taub threw up a hand as a good bye as he scribbled notes with his other hand.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Kutner said, grinning.

Thirteen nodded, and left.

Kutner did not see Thirteen they next day, or any other day for that matter. Thirteen did see Kutner though the next day. He was lying on his bedroom floor dead, without a worry in the world.

A/N: reviews? :D