FicWad

Cuddy burst into House's office and scanned the room for her one-and-only-drug-addicted doctor. The blinds were closed (which she'd learned meant he had a headache) and the record player wasn't on (which meant he was deep in thought). "House?!" She barked, closing the door behind her. A groan came from somewhere around his desk, so she inched toward the sound. "Gregory House?" She sing-songed, tip-toeing about.
"Hmm..."
She rounded the desk to find him under it. "What are you doing?"
"Shh!" He hissed. "I'm thinking."
"Bullshit. Did you induce a migraine again?" This made him chuckle.
"Yeah. Every time I get the chance." Cuddy knelt and looked at him.
"What are you doing?" she asked again. House sighed and pulled himself out from under the desk.
"Well, mommy, my head hurts and I think I scraped my knee, and I fell in a puddle..." he trailed off at her look and sighed. "Why is this girl consuming blood? Why?" Cuddy made herself comfortable next to him and shook her head.
"I don't know." There was a small silence between them. "This isn't about the patient, is it?" House let off a warning growl.
"Don't start this, Lisa."
"It's about Stacy." House buried his face in his palms and groaned.
"Don't-"
"Listen to me," Cuddy snapped, cutting him off. "You two need to co-exist, regardless of the situation. I'm tired of seeing everyone walk on eggshells because of you two. It's stupid and childish. Honestly, can it be that bad." House looked up and narrowed his eyes.
"You don't know anything."
"I know you have a patient that's awake and in need of help, and you're here sulking." Cuddy watched as he struggled to his feet and leaned on his cane. He stared down his nose at his boss, not caring that she'd searched the hospital for him, to offer him some sort of comfort.
"You don't know anything about me, or about Stacy. Let's keep it that way. " He left her there, on the floor, her emotions open and raw to the fact he was hurting.

But then again, so was his patient.