The wipers on her windshield were working overtime. "Heavy rainfall and possible thunderstorms will continue well into the morning, when-" Stacy turned the engine off, which silenced the weatherman on the radio. She got her umbrella from the passenger's seat and got out of her car. As she looked up, the gray building was looming over her and she had to take a deep breath before she started to walk up to the entrance.

Stacy was determined to talk to Greg. She had lost the nerve last week, when she had sat in her car and realized how screwed up her life was at the moment, not to mention the situation Greg was in. Emotions had gotten the better of her and she had been too afraid to go in and see him. But then he had stepped out and looked at her. She had seen the hurt and disappointment on his face before he had turned his back and walked back inside. All she wanted to do was go after him, but she hadn't been able to move. So, for the longest time she had stood out in the rain, looking at the closed doors, considering her options, before she had finally decided to go home.

And now she was back. With more information than she had had last week. Stacy had gone in for a diagnostic work up and another mammogram. The mammogram had revealed a solid mass in her breast and Wilson had told her she would have to have a biopsy of the tumor to determine whether it was cancerous or not. The biopsy was scheduled for tomorrow and a fear of the unknown kept her from telling any of her friends. She didn't want to worry anybody unless she really had to. But she wanted to tell Greg; needed to tell him. Most of the time, Stacy felt like she was in a dream, floating slightly above everything, unable to touch reality. Greg would tell her what to expect and if she should be worried at all. He could be bluntly honest sometimes, too honest for some people. But she needed someone who would not sugarcoat the possible outcomes of this biopsy. She needed someone to put both her feet back on the ground. And Greg was just the man.

The walk to the front desk was a short one. There weren't many people about, giving the sound of her heels on the tile floor an eerie echo. "Hi, Stacy Hamilton. I'm here to see Gregory House." Stacy told the receptionist at the desk, who then proceeded to flip through some papers.

"I'm sorry Ms. Hamilton, but Dr. House is not seeing anybody today." The receptionist looked at her with an apologetic smile.

Stacy was taken aback. "Why, is he okay?" Worry shot through her, an emotion she had become quite familiar with over the last few weeks.

"Actually, he is fine." The male voice came from behind her and Stacy turned around. A man, dressed in a suit was standing behind her. He had a kind smile on his face, which made Stacy suspicious and curious at the same time. "Hi, I'm Doctor Nolan, Dr. House's psychiatrist." He extended his hand to her. "And you must be Stacy Hamilton."

Stacy shook his hand, curiosity overtaking her. "I am. Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Why don't we go into my office?" He extended his hand again, this time to show her the way.

When they reached Nolan's office, Nolan left little time for further introductions. He was intrigued by the role Stacy had played in House's past and he wanted to get to know her better. Stacy's name had come up a few times in recent sessions with House and Nolan had found that Stacy might play a crucial role in House's recovery, especially when he had learned that Stacy had visited House for the first time 2 weeks ago. The only person to visit him since his admission to Mayfield.

Stacy took a seat opposite Nolan, in his big, spacious office, facing away from the door. The room was darker than it should be, mainly because the gray clouds prevented any sunshine from peering through. The rain was pounding on the big windows to her right, keeping rhythm with her beating heart.

"Tell me, how long have you known Dr. House?" Stacy was again taken by surprise by his forwardness.

"For about 15 years. Can I ask what this is all about? Why isn't Greg receiving anybody?"

"Ms. Hamilton, Dr. House has been through a hard time and it's about to get worse for him."

"Why is that?" How could things possibly get worse?

"Dr. House has agreed to stop taking Vicodin. He has already been on a monitored dosage, but to make sure he doesn't relapse into abuse of the narcotic, I suggested he stopped taking it altogether. And he agreed."

"And how is this going to worsen his situation?"

"Dr. House's body is still addicted to the painkiller. And mentally it isn't much different. He will go through a period of detox, during which his system will clean his body of toxins related to the drug. For a while, the pain in his leg will increase and he will possibly suffer dry heaves and total body pains." Stacy was stunned. Greg had volunteered to do this?

"But the end result will be a better manageable pain in his leg and no Vicodin abuse."

"I can't believe he has agreed to do this."

"What he experienced right before coming here has frightened him to the point where he realized it was becoming a problem. The only thing that has kept him from quitting Vicodin is the fear of increased pain in his leg. It is my understanding you were with Dr. House when he had his infarction?"

"I was. I…" her voice trailed off. She needed a minute to digest all this and Dr. Nolan allowed her the time. "Has he talked to you about me?"

"Your name has come up." Nolan sported that smile again, giving Stacy the idea that he knew more than what he lead on. And he probably did. But she didn't like to be kept out of the loop.

"What has he told you? That I betrayed his trust? That I left him after he had his infarction? That I was ready to leave my husband to be with him again?" Frustration was building in her.

"And that you were the only woman he ever loved." And the frustration was gone.

"Ms. Hamilton, I am not trying to play matchmaker here, but from what Dr. House has told me, there seems to be a strong connection between you, especially after the way he talked about you when you first visited. And detoxing is a big step for him. That is why I also suggested he shouldn't go through this alone. But when I mentioned your name, he told me quite clearly you were the last person he wanted help from. Some further inquiries revealed there were some unresolved issues between the two of you. I don't want to push you into doing anything you don't want to do, Ms. Hamilton, but if you care about him at all, I suggest you work through whatever problems you may have and be there for him when he will need you most."

Stacy just sat there in silence. This was a lot of information and this man she had never met before clearly knew a lot about her. But he also seemed to have Greg's best interest at heart and that is what comforted her and made her trust him.

"What makes you think I can help him if he doesn't want my help?"

"Because he cares about you, he cares about what you think."

"He told you about why our relationship ended, didn't he? He doesn't trust me."

"You might be surprised." His gaze drifted towards the door. "Dr. House. Come on in."

"What's going on here?" Suspicion clouded House's voice, but he didn't move from the doorway. Nolan got up from his chair and went over to his desk. When he returned, he handed Stacy a business card. "Please think about what we discussed." Stacy took the card from his hand and started at the letters. "I'll leave you two alone." And with that notion he left the room, passing House, who was still standing in the doorway.

House had seen Stacy's car in the parking lot and knew she had to be on the premises. He had told the receptionist at the desk he didn't want to see anybody today, no matter how much they begged. He had a feeling Stacy would be back, but after last week, he didn't feel like talking to her again. Stacy's car had been parked in the same spot for about 15 minutes and curiosity had gotten the better of him. Surely, she wouldn't do anything stupid as to go look for him. So, why would she still be here if she had been told he wasn't receiving visitors today? When he reached the desk, he had overheard one orderly talking about the 'hot older babe' that had come in to visit House again, so he went to the reception desk and asked what happened and to check and see if the woman had done her job. It was then that he learned Stacy had gone with Dr. Nolan to his office and he knew he had to go see them before Nolan told Stacy something he didn't want Stacy to know. He had only heard the tail end of their conversation, hearing Nolan say House still cared about her before he stepped in the doorway and showed his face.

House waited. If he remained where he was, walking away would be a lot easier and quicker.

He was still apprehensive about her, her presence here and most of all the reason why. When she had stood out in the rain last week, he had wished he knew what she was thinking, but it was clear she wasn't going to talk to him, which was a slap in the face. She always could talk to him. What had changed now? He wanted to know. Needed to know. "Why were you talking to Nolan?"

Stacy remained frozen in her seat. Detox, mammogram, cancer, psychiatrist, a jumble of words were swimming through her mind and she found it hard to breathe. She spotted a water cooler in the corner of the office next to the window and got up. As she poured some of the liquid in one of the white cups, she asked Greg if he wanted some water. But she never looked back at him, giving him the idea the question had been rhetorical and out of courtesy. Stacy turned to her side and stared out the window. House looked at the scene in front of him and instinct told him something was off. He had talked to Wilson again this week and the man had told him he had seen Stacy again. Either these two were dating or something else, something House didn't want to think about, was going on. It was the only explanation for Stacy's distant behavior. Something was wrong. The feeling crept over him like a cold breeze on a winter's night.

"Stacy." He waited for her to turn around, but when she didn't move, he took a few steps forward. The movement drew her attention. He looked at her face. The bags under her eyes were a little more visible, even though Stacy had tried to hide them with make-up.

"I'm sorry." Stacy's eyes met his. "About last week. I really wanted to come in and talk to you, but I-" If she finished that sentence, she would tell him the reason why and she wasn't sure she could.

"What's going on?" He took a few more steps towards her, but he was still a good distance away. "This isn't like you." The intimate comment shot through her and caused tears to form in her eyes. She had to tell him, even if it was only because he was a friend. She owed him that much. Stacy turned her eyes away and looked out the window again, the raindrops slowly making their way down.

"I've been seeing James."

House took a breath. That could still mean two things.

"Yeah, he told me. I know you guys are friends. So, either you've taken it to the next level or you're seeing him as a patient. Which one is it?" His voice was full of impatience and frustration.

Stacy smiled in spite of herself. His abrasiveness was still amazing. So was his bluntness. She searched for the words, but found nothing. She soon felt a tear sliding down her cheek and quickly wiped it away as she closed her eyes.

"I found a lump. In my breast." There. The words were out. She covered her mouth, trying to keep from crying, but to no avail. Her ears were buzzing, droning out most other sounds, except for a cane tapping the floor softly once, then footsteps, the cane again, and the footsteps. The sounds seemed far away and repeated a few times before she felt a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, Greg's face was right next to hers, his blue eyes staring her down. Stacy just buried her face in Greg's chest, allowing herself the comfort of his arms.

Greg's heart sank. All of a sudden it all made sense. Her move back to Princeton, her seeing Wilson and eventually her visiting him. But also the distance she had kept between them. He knew her well and he knew that the fighter in her hated showing any sign of vulnerability or even mortality to the outside world. But then he also knew that she had always trusted him to protect her in a sense, and to an extent he always had. Greg just had no idea she still needed him.

He put his chin on her head, stroking her back as he silently tried to soothe her. His mind was racing, a thousand thoughts running through it. He felt like yelling, getting mad at somebody or breaking something. Except he couldn't very well do any of those things. Anger was coursing through his veins, the overwhelming need to protect consuming him. At the same time he felt trapped, trapped inside of Mayfield, not being able to help her. He held Stacy close, closing his eyes as he breathed in her familiar scent. "It's okay," he said into her hair. He took another deep breath. "It'll be okay." He had no idea if that was true, but he didn't know what else to say.

Minutes passed and neither of them said a word until Stacy pulled back, certain enough she could talk without her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry." She hadn't meant to fall into his arms and sob into his t-shirt, which was now damp from her tears. "You're shirt's all wet." She smiled faintly.

"How long have you known?" She could see the concern written all over his face.

Stacy's half-smile faded. "A few months. I went to see James about 3 weeks ago. I am scheduled for a biopsy tomorrow." She knew that skipping the steps of the first and second mammogram would tell Greg exactly which stage of the diagnosis she was in now.

"It could be nothing, you know." Greg turned away from her as he went to sit on Nolan's couch, which was lined up against the long wall, in front of the windows. Fatigue momentarily got the better of him.

"Or I could lose my breast." Although the emotions were high, she needed to have this conversation with somebody, because talking about it out loud made it seem more real and factual. Stacy was good with facts.

"Well, there are worst things in this world." House was being rational, as he always was.

"I remember you not being too fond of the idea of removing your leg when it had the potential to end your life."

"That was different."

"Different how? It seems pretty similar to me!" She was now standing in front of the couch, hands on her hips.

"You're getting way ahead of yourself. You should wait for the biopsy results. And even then if they have to go in and remove the tumor, they might still be able to save the breast. You know all this." His voice was even and to-the-point.

Stacy sighed deeply. She did know. But hearing him say it eased her mind just a little. Enough to make her want to change the subject.

"I do. I know. I'm just-"

"It's alright." He cut her off. Greg knew how scared she was and he knew how she dealt with tough situations.

Stacy took a seat next to Greg on the couch. Relief washed over her. The secret was out and for a moment she wondered why it had been so hard to tell him. His response had been just what she had expected. The hug was even more than expected. This was still the Greg she remembered. Under all those layers hid the man she had once fallen in love with. It was only after a little while that she noticed the soft regular taps of House's cane on the floor, which usually indicated he was preoccupied with something.

"Nolan told me about the Vicodin." She looked up to meet his eyes. "I think it's great that you're doing this." She loved that she was no longer the focal point of their conversation.

"I don't know. The pain…" He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't want to.

"I know you're scared of the pain, but in the end it will be better. At least that's what Nolan says. It's also what James has been telling me for years. Opiate dependency can make it seem like the pain is actually worse than it is." She was silent for a moment. "It takes a lot of courage to do this."

"Yeah, well, I've never felt the need to be courageous. Why start now?" He looked into her eyes and Stacy saw the fear in his.

"Because you don't want to relapse into abusing Vicodin again. You don't want to start hallucinating again and you want the pain to be manageable with something other than an addictive narcotic."

She reached for his hand, habit taking over, but she was unsure whether or not he would let her take it. But when he didn't move, she entwined her fingers with his, softly stroking her thumb up and down.

"If you want me to, I will be here for you. Nolan told me he thinks it's better if you don't go through this alone."

"He does, huh? Is that what you guys were talking about before I came in?"

"Yes, it was."

"He says I am suffering from PTSD. Apparently I suck at coping with bad situations." He let his voice trail off and gave her a weak smile.

"Really? You don't say." Stacy had to smile.

"Did you know I got shot? Twice?" His voice had a hint of mockery in it, like he couldn't believe it himself.

Stacy's mouth fell open. "Oh my God, when did that happen?"

"About six months after you left with Mark. Former patient. But it turned out to be a good thing. See, after I got out of my coma, I was pain free for a few months."

Stacy's mouth fell open again. "How?"

"Experimental treatment. I told Cuddy to give me Ketamine and she did. There was a fifty percent chance of the pain returning. And it did." He was silent for a moment. "Did Wilson tell you about the bus crash that killed his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, he did."

"And that I was taken hostage by a crazy patient?" He had to smile to himself. Hearing himself saying it out loud made it even more outrageous. No wonder he was messed up.

"God, Greg, I had no idea."

"Oh, and you know how I always had doubts that my dad was actually my dad? I ran a paternity test after he died. Guess what?"

"No way!"

"Yep. Turns out I was right after all." He smiled.

"You've had your suspicions since you were a teenager, right?"

"Yeah, I did." He was silent for a moment. "But then one of my fellows killed himself a few months ago and that's when things started to go downhill." Stacy squeezed his hand a little, noticing that his smile had faded.

In the span of a few minutes, House had told her about the events leading up to his admission into Mayfield. And the revelations seemed to come without any trouble, especially now that Stacy had told him what was going on with her. He knew he could trust Stacy. He had always known it, but he had just been too afraid to actually put his trust in her. It was then that House realized he had been an idiot for selling her short. Opening up to her now was his way of saying he wanted her help with the detox. He knew very well it was going to be ugly, but she had already seen the worst of him. Even more importantly, he wanted her by his side, because the moment those biopsy results came back positive for cancer, she was gonna need someone to lean on and deep down inside he knew that he wanted to be that person for her when the time came.

"I see we've made some progress here." Nolan was back and standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. The first thing he noticed when he had watched them sit on his couch together where their locked hands and Nolan knew his patient would not be alone this coming week.

House cleared his throat and stood up. It was one thing to let his guard down with Stacy, but having his shrink see him hold hands with a woman, was something else. Although he quickly realized he felt no embarrassment in the gesture. He simply liked having Stacy touch him.

"So, how do we do this, doc? When do we start?" A sudden feeling of empowerment came over him. Knowing he wouldn't have to do this alone felt more comforting than he was willing to admit.

"There's no use in waiting any longer. What do you say we start tomorrow? No more Vicodin as of 6 a.m. Ms. Hamilton will be able to visit you twenty-four seven during the course of the coming week. I will make sure she has a pass, so she can come and go as she pleases. We allow twenty-four seven visits, because the first few nights tend to be the hardest and research has shown that patients benefit most from having a loved one around during those times."

"Doctor, excuse me, but how will this go?" Stacy also got up. "When will the worst part be? I mean, I have a… thing… tomorrow." She looked at Greg for a moment, before returning her attention to Nolan. "I am not sure if I can be here then." She honestly had no idea how she would be feeling after the biopsy.

"Well, I think we will see the first indications of detox tomorrow night. The symptoms will increase for about two days after, but he should be feeling better after just four or five days."

To Stacy, somehow hearing the timeframe made the whole detox-process seem less horrendous. If there was a clear indication of when she could expect what, it was easier for her to deal with it. And five days really wasn't all that long.

"But you have to know, it won't be easy," Nolan continued. "Dr. House will experience a lot of discomfort and he might not be able to remember the good intentions we all have. Including yours. Can you handle that?" Stacy looked at Greg who was staring at his shoes. And she knew he was scared, didn't have to look into his eyes to know just how frightened he was.

"I can," she said convincingly, keeping her eyes on Greg. She knew she could. She had done it before. Greg met her eyes, unspoken words hanging between them, although she could tell from the look in his eyes that he was grateful.

"Thanks for letting me know, Doctor."

"You're welcome. And thank you for doing this. I am sure it will help a great deal. You have my card, don't hesitate to give me a call if you have any further questions."

"I will." Stacy answered.

"Doc, could you give us a minute?" House spoke up.

"Of course. I guess I'll see you both later." Nolan left the office.

Greg turned to Stacy. "Are you sure about this? I mean it seems like you've got enough to deal with as it is."

"Greg…" Stacy tried to stop him.

"And he's right. It won't be pretty." He cast his eyes downward, not sure if he could handle the disappointment if she turned him down now.

Stacy put her hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. "I don't care." She felt the strength build within her. She had a purpose again. No matter what the biopsy results were, she had no control over them. Her life had spiralled out of control, but now she found herself in a situation she had some control over. For the next few days Greg needed her and she would be there for him. "I'll be here."

After everything that had happened, Stacy was still willing to support him. After all the crap he put her through, all the lies, the manipulations, the hurt, she was still here. The emotions became a little overwhelming and for a moment, House didn't know what to say. Or do. But he was glad when Stacy moved her hand from his arm up towards his neck, as she pulled him down to her and melted her body with his in a tender embrace. He hardly noticed his cane as it dropped to the ground with a soft thud. All he noticed was that he had both arms around her and didn't want to let go.

Greg felt Stacy pull back and wondered how long they had been standing like that.

"I should go." Greg was silent, but his eyes were pleading. He didn't want her to leave. His eyes were always the most telling part about him and with Stacy he hardly had to say anything and she would still know what he was feeling.

Stacy softly placed her hand on the side of his face. "I'll be back tomorrow." When she took a step backwards, she stumbled over the cane that was lying on the floor and reached to pick it up.

"Thank you." His voice was low and Stacy knew the comment encompassed far more than her handing him his cane. When Greg didn't say anything again, she leaned forward once more, softly placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Stacy left Mayfield that day feeling better on many different levels. It felt like a big weight she hadn't noticed she was carrying, had been lifted off of her. And knowing she was needed gave her a new reason for fighting. She had no idea what to expect tomorrow, but she knew she would see Greg and that somehow was all she needed to know to make it through the day.