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Fic Loose Ends Part One

Loose Ends part One Chapters 1-3 

Her eyes flicked open. The room was dark and she didn’t know what had woken her. The clock face glowed pale blue at her, insisting that it was 2:30am and that she should still be sleeping. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow. She liked sleep, but didn’t always get a lot of it. You wanted to be a doctor, you wanted to be the best, she chided herself. You knew it would eat into nap time. She growled low and banished the voice to the back of her mind.

The slow groan of the living room shutters being pulled open told her what had woken her; someone is breaking in, again. Lisa Cuddy sighed deeply, pushing back the covers and slipping quietly out of her bed. House loved to keep her off balance, and lately he’d been taking it to new extremes, interrupting her dates, showing up at all hours in, what she could only assume, was a twisted attempt to monitor her sex life. Like I’m ever gonna have one of those again, she thought morosely. She padded down the hall to the living room, it wouldn’t be hard to catch him, he’d have to go slow with his bum leg and the cane.

She paused a moment, outside the room listening to the light rustle of movement.

“Breaking and entering without a medical motive, that’s a stretch even for you—“ she flicked the overhead light on, and stared in shock at the two men in dark clothing who were blinking through their ski masks at the sudden glare.

“Who the hell are you?” She demanded. They were both around six feet tall but heavily built. They were both staring at her like landed trout and they were standing between her and the door and the phone her inner voice pointed out urgently go!

She turned and ran, feeling the adrenalin hit her heart like a hammer and being happy about it, noting distantly that even after millions of years of evolution the flight or flight response was still damn skidded running into the French doors in her bedroom, but they led to the patio, Nope, walls are too high, the window. She lunged to the other side of the room even as the two men burst in behind her, she could hear them hissing urgently to each other but she didn’t pay attention, all her focus was on escape. She slammed the latch with her palm and heaved upwards on the sash with all her own strength and the extra oomph from the adrenaline.

The sash didn’t budge.

She felt a hand swat hard at her arm and she spun slamming into the dresser facing the figure in black, it spoke harshly “Don’t—“

Her hand grazed the dresser top clutching the first thing it touched. She threw it at the man who’d tried to grab her with all her might. White talcum powder exploded all over him

“Bitch!’ He sounded surprised

“Man put her down!” the other figure hissed.

Cuddy scrabbled backwards but there was nowhere to go, a hard hand grabbed her throat and a harder fist slammed into her face,

and again,

and again,

when the darkness swept up she was grateful.

The pain woke her, she was lying on the floor in the dark and she hurt, oh god it hurt---

Yeah, and? What hurts, you’re a doctor, remember?

When she was working she always seemed to hear the voice of the medical student who’d run her human anatomy lab section in college. He’d been thorough, precise, focused, clinical, brutal and rude. She’d learned more about how to think in that lab then in any other class she’d had, and years later, it was still that voice in her head when the problems got knotty or painful, throwing out insults and advice.

Of course most days she heard it with her ears too.

She took a breath. Willing her mind to focus and pushing everything else aside. The breath hurt for one thing. Sharp, stabbing

Broken rib, we’ll get back to it. Start at the bottom.

Feet and legs felt ok. She gently pressed her hands against her hips. Left Hip had sharp soreness probably from hitting the edge of the dresser, Superficial, next?

She was still wearing her pajama bottoms; there was no pain from the vagina or rectum.

You weren’t raped, mazeltov, what about that ribcage?

She ran her hands over her ribs, pressing gently, bruising and maybe a cracked rib. Breath was shallow, deep breath possible but painful. She coughed deliberately forcing air deep into her lungs. It hurt like hell

Must have kicked you when you were down. Get an x-ray later. Keep going we’re getting to the good stuff.

Arms and hands were scraped and sore, upper chest seemed fine, The neck, she was very careful here, exploring gently with her fingers, knowing that she was going to have a black ring of finger prints around her neck for the next couple of days.

There doesn’t appear to be serious trauma. Spine seems ok, X-ray that too though and a CT.

The jaw hurt like hell. Not dislocated but badly bruised along the maxilla up to the zygomatic arch and the occipital bone the whole left side of her face was a huge painful throb.

The asshole was a right hander.

No blood in her mouth, she ran her tongue over her teeth but nothing seemed loose. Her nose was tender and bloody but, she massaged the cartilage gently, not broken. She ran her hands over her head but didn’t feel any lumps, bumps or breaks in her scalp.

You’re going to look like a poster child for battered wife syndrome but you’ll live. Call the cops and an ambulance.

Struggling to her feet she flicked on the lights. and tried not to cry at the devastation. Her mattress had been torn from the bed. Her jewelry box was lying empty on the floor, her clothes had been tossed out of her dresser and lay scattered everywhere covered in talcum powder residue.

That was a stupid thing to throw.

Shut up House. She thought at the voice as she hobbled to the phone and dialed clock from her bedside table claimed it was 3:30am.

She turned on lights, pulled on sweats, very carefully, and went to her living room to wait. This was harder than normal to do without the TV, computer or stereo for company.

At 4am she called 911 back.

At 5:30 her phone rang.

“Dr. Cuddy.” The voice was familiar deep gravelly and very smug. “I hear you’ve been phoning in false reports to the 911 operator.”

“Detective Tritter,” She said numbly, closing her eyes.

This just keeps getting better and better.

“Dr. Cuddy the last time I saw you, you lied under oath, now a person who is willing to lie under oath is like… the little girl who cried wolf. How can you believe a word she says?”

Cuddy hung up the phone abruptly, buried her sore face in her hands and started to cry


Chapter two

“Dr. James Wilson.” A sleepy voice growled into her ear. “It’s not even 6am yet and if this is House… I gonna kill,” a huge yawn “you.”

“Wilson, it’s me.”

“Cuddy?” His voice went wide awake and she heard him sit up. She never called her staff in off shift for anything less than a life or death emergency. “What’s up?”

“Uh…” She stammered helpless.


She took a shaky breath and held it, it was so damned hard to ask for help, personal help, help for her. James Wilson was someone she considered a friend, more than that he’d been an ally on the board ever since he’d been appointed, they’d been comrades-in-arms, and not just in support of the head of diagnostics. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d just gotten beat up, burglarized and needed a ride to the ER.

And she really didn’t want to tell him that Detective Tritter seemed focused on them, again.

“You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry, it’s —“She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window glass and winced looking away.

Tell me what’s going on!

She couldn’t see him but she thought she could hear his knuckles cracking the plastic handset on the phone.

“I really need a ride to the… uh… ER. It’s Tr-tritter.” And then the words were flying out in a rush. “They broke in and then I thought it was House but it wasn’t and they... and I called the p-p-police and Tritter…”

“What? Cuddy you aren’t making any sense.” His voice was calm and even almost warm. The voice he used on patients who said they preferred death to baldness. It worked too. “Detective Tritter what?”

“Ac-cused me of making false 911 calls, it’s so stupid,” she sobbed tears spilling at last “God Damn it I’m NOT crying.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you aren’t doing that. Look, Cuddy, I’m not sure what’s going on but I’m on my way.” He said simply and hung up.


“Brenda, its Lisa I’m not going to be in today---My house got broken into last night. I’ll probably be back tomorrow. “She leaned the left side of her face into a dishtowel filled with ice as she spoke into Nurse Preven’s voicemail. She’d been leaving countless messages since Wilson had hung up making sure everyone knew that they couldn’t call her for help today and who was in charge of what. The work had calmed her down, work always did. She’d even managed to stop the water works, “Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency. I’m defining an emergency as fire, flood, and/or gunplay; unless they come from diagnostics then just leave a message on my service.”

She hung up, thought a moment and re-dialed the same number. “Oh and Dr. House is working in the clinic from 3-5, make sure he doesn’t just see patients during commercials, also let me know if he doesn’t show up,” She heard the doorbell and spoke faster, “because if he misses clinic duty today I’m going to find him tomorrow, rip his heart out and shove it up his rectum so it can be close to his brain. Feel free to forward this to him.”

She clicked the phone off and dropped it hissing as her ribs protested the whole standing up and moving around thing.

The porch light revealed a worried Wilson standing in the pre-dawn gloom with bed head and no tie. She opened the door for him warily, she’d been avoiding mirrors on general principal but she knew she looked… dramatic.

“Holy hell,” Wilson said after a moment of just staring at her.

He blurred as her eyes filled with tears again.

“It’s good to see you too, Wilson.”


Part three

Why is today good?” House asked his minions idly. “Why is it better, why is life brighter, why is—“

“You’re back on the anti-depressants.” Cameron commented without looking up from the journal she was reading.

“Nope,” House leaned against a bookshelf in the conference room “the ray of sunshine you see lighting me up is not chemically induced,” He paused a moment, “except maybe the vicodin, but that doesn’t count.”

“Were doing a differential on your mood now?” Foreman sighed. He was looking at his watch as if staring at it could make the two weeks he had left in the diagnostics department go faster.

“Cuddy isn’t here today.” Chase said as he erased something from his crossword. “Her house got broken into.”

“And Dr. Gossip has the low down” House pointed his cane at the younger man. “We are boss free people.”

The fellows exchanged sad eyebrow raises with each other.

“Aww, you’ve got a point, only I’m boss free.” The grin he shot them was malicious.

“It’s not funny;” Cameron said “Having your home burglarized is very traumatic. It’s a violation—“

“It’s a blessing! It gets the Wicked Witch of the Clinic out of my hair. No paperwork, no budgets, no patients….”

“I also heard that Cuddy told Brenda to tell you that if you didn’t do your clinic duty today she was going to chop off your leg, your left leg, or was it your left testicle?” Chase smirked at his crossword.

“You suck at telephone.”

“And the other gossip is that Detective Tritter was in her office first thing this morning.” Chase continued offhandedly.

There was a fraught silence. When Chase finally responded to it by looking up at his boss he winced, and wished he’d kept his mouth shut.


“Good Morning Nurse Preven.”

Brenda Preven blanched. She’d been the head nurse at Princeton-Plainsboro for five years and she and Dr. Cuddy had an understanding. Brenda wouldn’t quit and Dr. Cuddy would deal with His Gimpness. Only now Cuddy wasn’t here and His Gimpness was. Brenda glared up at him trying to hide her despair in a show of aggression.

“You get Dr. Cuddy’s message?”

“No, I got your message, “ House leaned the handle of his cane on the counter and attempted to loom at Brenda, leaning as close to her as he could get. “And there were a couple of things I, DOCTOR House wanted to point out—“

“Talk to the Dean when she does your cardiac relocation tomorrow. I’m not covering for you.” Brenda started throwing files in the cabinet.

“I’m not surprised by that.” He reached into his pocket and automatically extracted and ingested a vicodin. “What does surprises me is that you aren’t covering for her. I mean I know you’re only a nurse,”

Brenda closed her eyes and started counting under her breath.

“But as head of the hospitals spy network, a certain amount of loyalty to the boss is expected.”


“What was Tritter doing here?”

“Why can’t you just ask a simple question?”

“I just did.”

“Detective Tritter, who works for Princeton PD, showed up first thing this morning asking for Dr. Cuddy, I told him she was taking the day off because of the burglary.”

“You told him about that? Nice.”

"Detective Tritter, who works for the Po-lice Dep-art-ment.” Brenda enunciated the words slowly earning her a scalpel edged glare. “Sometimes; they look for people like burglars, who Dr. Cuddy might have met last night.”

“I get it; she calls 911 the cops show up at her house last night, the asshole shows up at her office this morning. Ya cudda just said---”

And then Brenda Preven met his eyes, which she rarely did. “Or they don’t.”

House looked away first. He lifted his cane gently and bounced the rubber tip on the floor a couple of times.

Thump, thump

“They don’t.”

Thump, thump

Tritter, evil, grudge bearing, Tritter,

Thump, Thump

Cuddy had skunked him.

Thump, thump

Not the only cop in Princeton.

Thump, thump

Cops and Nurses,

Thump, thump.

They don’t.




( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 3rd, 2008 06:21 pm (UTC)
I am very,very curious to read more.Run to read the rest of it ^.^

Stupid Tritter!
Jun. 16th, 2011 07:13 pm (UTC)
This makes me sad for the good old days when we thought House would defend Cuddy against victimization, instead of being the one victimizing her.

Very intriguing so far!
Jun. 17th, 2011 01:46 am (UTC)
Thank you!

Yes, i realize now that House is ooc in most of my fics, because he is sane. :(
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )