Hi y'all! :)

Here we go with the last chapter! I want to thank everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed this story, I'm glad you guys like it. This chapter is set in ''Finding Judas'', right after Cuddy told Wilson about her miscarriage.

Enjoy!

.3.

"Are you an ass?!" House heard his friend shouting as he violently slammed his office's door open.

Wilson stood still in front of his desk, hands on his hips and a frown on his face. He was literally fuming. House put down his red ball, straightening in his chair before clearing his throat. Wilson seemingly waited for an answer. He shrugged.

"Oh stop it, I'll blush," he exaggeratedly said, a hand on his heart and a pout on his face. A furious Wilson was always amusing.

"House."

He winced, his friend wasn't really in the mood, and it rarely happened. He sighed, guessing what made him that angry. "She ran to mommy to tell her everything, cute," he said, now as serious as Wilson was.

He started to make a few steps in the office, gesturing in the air with his hands. "How did you dare to … Just, how did you …" Wilson said, it seemed like he was talking to himself and trying to assimilate what he'd just heard.

"It's not the first time, you know," House said, reminding him he'd always been mean to Cuddy – to everyone, actually. And that never put his friend in that state. He'd reprimanded him, at worse, and let it go, knowing it wouldn't change a thing, at best. But rarely he had got that enraged. There was something else.

"No …" Wilson retorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "You had never gone that far. I didn't expect it, even from you, House," he continued, not stopping his walk. "How could you just …"

"Wait," House said, frowning from confusion. "What did I do?" he asked, fearing he'd be missing something.

"Telling her she'd make a horrible mother? Just after she miscarried?" Wilson answered, obvious. "You are –

"She what?" House cut him off, surprised by the news his friend had just brought him.

"Wait … You didn't know she … Oh shit!" Wilson exclaimed, silently prying to stay alive when Cuddy would know that he'd told him that.

"Yeah, shit," he repeated, his mind running fast. And he didn't like what he was just realizing.

House got up, picking up his jacket and his bike's keys and quickly limped towards the glass door, leaving his friend in the middle of the office before he could add a word. Cuddy had been pregnant, and she didn't tell him. He felt insulted, after he'd helped her with the procedure, she didn't even tell him it worked – almost worked.

He remembered the day she'd gone up to his office, thanking him and telling him she'd abandoned, the night he'd spent thinking about it, about the unspoken question she'd wanted to ask, his inexplicable want to help her being happy, and the day after that, when he got her that file. And then nothing.

He rode his bike with unanswered questions in his mind, and the craving want to see her, and eventually ask those questions to the concerned woman. He knew he wouldn't, though. He didn't even know why he was rushing in the direction of her house. Nothing was that easy with him, with them.

He made a few meters in the opposite direction as he realized that he passed Cuddy's villa, he'd been lost in thought and didn't see it. Parking in front of her house, he unclasped his helmet and hung it on the handgrip as he stood up and gazed at the construction in the semi-darkness.

He saw her silhouette in the kitchen, but couldn't define exactly what she was doing. Maybe she was making some tea, he mused. She looked so prosper and yet so lonely, he'd almost lost the guts to go disturb her balance, to enter her apparently so fragile world. He looked down, analyzing the situation and replayingthe events of the last weeks, adding the newest information Wilson had given him. Tightening his grip on his cane, House limped energetically toward her front door before he lost the breath of courage that submerged him.

He let his fist fall a couple of times on the wooden door instead of his cane, surprising himself. He didn't have the power to fight her tonight. He didn't even know what he was doing there, waiting for her to open the door, and further less what he was going to say. He didn't have the time to think about it, as Cuddy appeared in front of him, looking confused. And tired.

She'd been obviously crying, and he hated himself the second he saw her reddish eyes and the broken woman that was standing in front of him. He'd rarely seen her let go on herself, lose control, but he'd pushed her limits too far earlier in the day. She kept looking at him, waiting for an explanation for his visit, tucked in her extra-large sweater and with her messy hair all around her pale face.

"Look, I'm tired, so if you could just –

"It'd worked. You didn't tell me," he cut her off, locking their eyes together.

He himself didn't know if he had the right to know, anyway. She didn't look surprised, she knew Wilson would tell him, intentionally or not. A feeling of relief she wanted not to feel filled her heart. He was there, caring about her. Or at least, she wanted to believe so. She desperately wanted to believe that he wasn't there just because of his insane curiosity.

"What happened today," Cuddy weakly said. "I didn't tell you exactly for that reason."

She was right, he couldn't resent her for wanting to protect herself from him. He wasn't the safest choice, and he'd proved her that not more than three hours ago. It was for that exact reason that he'd retracted, five weeks ago, and wanted to get back the file he'd brought her. House looked at the left for a second, controlling the flow of emotions that threatened to be reflected in his eyes as he read all the distress in hers.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he murmured so low he barely heard himself saying it.

"Yeah, me too…" she whispered back, as low as House's voice had been. She wasn't sure what that 'me too' meant, but didn't bother herself to understand it, it came naturally. Maybe she was sorry for his loss, too. But she'd never tell him that – she barely admitted it to herself. All the unsaid things in the whole story would better stay unsaid, they silently decided. It was better, for both of them.

Their eyes met again, reflecting all the sincerity of the moment though it was mildly dark. They didn't need a bright light to be able to read in each other's eyes. For a moment, he felt himself leaning over her, Cuddy standing motionless in front of him. But instead of going further, he straightened himself and looked down at Cuddy's bare feet.

"Maybe you want to talk about it," he said, shyly, not looking at her. It was an uncomfortable ground for him, but he found himself doing it anyway. It didn't feel that bad, after all.

"Thank you," he heard Cuddy murmur, pulling aside so she let him come in. He followed her inside, surprised by her acceptance.

She'd dealt with it alone, as she always did when it became too personal, but, as awkward as the situation was, she was happy to share it with someone who understood. Or at least, she hoped so.

The End.

A/N: so here it ends, my friends. I'm considering writing a sequel to figure out what the talk and its outcomes were, but I'm not sure. I tried to make the end match the next episode in the series as much as possible, which is why it's an open end. I hope you enjoyed it :)