I was trying to write something else, and this snuck up on me and attacked me instead.

Anyways, this takes place around "Meaning" when the Ketamine treatment was still working and House didn't need his cane.

Thanks!

Ever since he could run again, he comes to your home. The first time you saw him jog up your steps, you're not really sure it's him because it's so unreal to actually see him running. But it is him, there's no doubting that.

The first time he's on your porch, panting and banging on your door, you can't find the words to express the joy you feel. It's been about five weeks, and the Ketamine treatment hasn't worn off yet. He takes every opportunity to rub it in, saying, "Dr. Cuddy, look what happens when you listen to me and follow my decisions." You know that he's referencing what happened before, the surgery that crippled him, but you don't really care. He's happy, that's all that matters.

He shows up about the same time every day, a little sooner with every day that passes. You hand him a bottle of water and look on as he drinks, watching as his Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulps down the chilled water, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He gives you the bottle back, then with a smile, runs back in the direction he came from. You always watch until you can no longer see his figure in the distance.

You hope that he'll be able to keep running back.

Two weeks after he first showed up on your doorstep, you're sitting on your porch outside waiting for him. When he arrives, he slows to a stop as you jog across the front lawn over to him, and he tilts his head looking at your attire. Laced up Nikes, black elastic pants and a form fitting tank top. Meeting your eyes, he grins, and then starts his running pace again, and you match it, step for step. But you don't think of it that way. He's matching you step for step, something that you're not used to.

For three days it goes like this; you wait for him to show up, then the two of you run together around the neighborhood without speaking, the only sounds being the beat of your shoes against pavement and the two of your steady rhythmic breaths and your own pulse thumping in your ears. Then at the end of your daily jog when you're back at your house, he'll simply say, "See you tomorrow?" and you nod.

On the fourth day, you break the silence and speak. You hate to break the ritual, but looking over at him and see his sweat drenched shirt and him jogging next to you, you can't help it.

"How does it feel?"

Without slowing down, he looks over at you. "What?"

"How does it feel?" You take a deep breath. "To be running?"

He comes to a halt, and you skid to a stop also. He bends over, with his hands on his knees and looks up. He's breathing heavy, his lips parted, and sweat dripping from his hair. You regret asking, and worry that he might lash out. But instead, he smiles.

"It feels good."

And that's all you need to know. He then says some smart remark and shoves you playfully and starts off fast, running ahead of you. You laugh, and run to catch up.

The day after next, he doesn't show up. You can't figure out why, he doesn't have a patient. You let out a sigh and go inside your house and kick of your shoes, wondering what was wrong.

The next day at work, you ask him why he didn't show up for your run. He mutters something about being drunk. You roll your eyes, and deep down, you're disappointed because you like the time that the two of you spend spent together, although you won't admit it as you're sure he won't either. He walks away and you steal a glance at him, and your stomach lurches as you see a faint limp in his step. You hope that it's just a phantom, because you're so familiar to seeing him walk like that and him favoring his right side is just in your imagination.

But it's not. Not only does he not show up again that afternoon at your home, but the next day he's using his cane again. Watching him walk through the hospital lobby at his old, slow pace makes your heart sink in your chest. With every limp he takes, it's like he's taking two steps backwards after he ran so far.

And you don't dare ask how he feels about it.

Reviews? Thanks :)

~Rev