Priorities

[alanwolfmoon]

Title: Priorities
Pairing: House/Cuddy, Wilson/Cameron eventually
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG-13-ish
Warnings: a few f-words through the chapters
Summary: Cuddy is in a car accident right after Big Baby, before she officially adopts Rachel. Everybody takes care of her, but she isn't initially able to remind them about Rachel. House doesn't need reminding. Story follows Cuddy's recovery, and the relationship between the two doctors. 
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes and Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

T








House sat on the stool, as Cuddy levered herself up onto the exam table, out of the wheelchair.

Her hand, when she was lying down, moved instinctively to rest on her distended abdomen.

He swallowed, watching her. Being Rachel’s father had been huge. But he’d known that, given Cuddy’s wish of a child, and his wish of Cuddy, it would be conceivable at some point that he would end up participating in the raising of a child.

But that someone would actually *consent* to have his biological spawn was mindboggling.

Who the hell would want to raise anything even close to related to *him*?

Especially given what they’d gone through with his tendency to get very unstable very quickly if something poked something he’d been hiding emotions about for a while.

Cuddy looked at him, saw the sort of vaguely lost look in his eyes, and grabbed his hand, “hey. Pregnant woman here. Pay attention.”

He smirked a bit, as the technician spread the gel around with the probe.

“Everything looks good… I… wait.”

She clicked a button, and moved the probe around some more. Then she frowned.

“Um… there are two heartbeats in there.”

She turned the screen so Cuddy and House could see.

House glanced at the screen, then looked at Cuddy.

She looked pale, “I’ll… I couldn’t carry one… I’m never going to be able to carry twins…”

She started to cry.

House stood, and squeezed her hand, “you’ll have a better chance if you don’t get all worked up.”

“House! Get out!”

He chewed on his lip for a moment, then responded, “no. I’m staying here.”

She threw the box of tissues at him, “out!”

The technician looked slightly alarmed, “Sir, maybe you should leave…”

House shook his head, and gripped both of Cuddy’s hands, despite her attempts to pull them away.

“Look at me, Cuddy,” he said, quietly, then mentally kicked himself, because she was looking at him. Rather, glaring daggers at him.

He took a deep breath, and started to talk.

“You are gonna carry these kids, Cuddy. You’re gonna carry. You’re going to take leave, and stay in bed if you have to. Because this is what you’ve wanted for so long. Cuddy, you’re gonna have a baby. You’re gonna have twins. Three kids, Cuddy. Three kids.”

“Let go of me.”

“You’re gonna calm down. You’re gonna calm down and stop freaking out, and you’re gonna carry these kids, Cuddy. You… remember when you made me give my team performance reviews? And I gave you one as well? ‘What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue. What you've accomplished makes you proud, but you're still miserable.’?

“You want to carry these babies, Cuddy. You know what you need—you’ve been trying to get it your whole life. You need to feel more than proud of what you’ve accomplished. You need what you’ve accomplished to make you happy. When you look at Rachel, when you hold her, tuck her in to bed… you’re not miserable, are you? It’s a biological imperative to want to have children, Lisa. To want to have a family. It’s something we are built to long for.”

She closed her eyes, as tears ran out of the corners of them.

“Just because I want it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve miscarried every time I’ve been pregnant.”

“And just because you’ve miscarried doesn’t mean you’ll always do so.”

“You called me Lisa.”

“Would you rather I called you Frank?”

She blinked at him.

Then her mouth twitched, and curved up into a slight smile, even as she continued to cry.

She pulled on his hands, until he was leaning over her.

Then she wrapped her arms around his back, holding him close to herself.

“You’re miserable too,” she whispered, into his ear.

He shook his head, “not anymore.”

She laughed, quietly, “yes you are.”

“Yes, I am,” he agreed, straightening, as she let go, “but I’m a whole lot less miserable than I used to be.”

She nodded, sighing with exhaustion, “I’m glad.”



House smiled, as Rachel laid her hands on Cuddy’s belly, feeling the twins moving around inside.

Cuddy didn’t want to know the sexes of the babies. House was fairly sure she was trying to keep from getting attached to the babies in case she did miscarry.

He… doesn’t particularly have a problem with it, although if she keeps doing it after the twins are born…

He remembers reading a book about the tremendously high infant and child mortality rates in Brazil. Women would refuse to get attached to their children until they were around five years old because of the entirely too high likelihood that they would die. Dead babies were celebrated, sent to heaven to watch out for the mothers and be waiting when the mother died.

Of course, he read the damned book because of some morbid kind of fascination about people with even suckier childhoods than his own. But after about the age of five, the affection would be there and very strong. So after reading it, he wasn’t entirely sure that that was more fucked up than a father hating their child for the child’s entire life.

He looked at Cuddy, who was smiling at Rachel, at least.

Maybe it would have been better if Cuddy could have adopted again.

But… he couldn’t deny that watching Cuddy grow, watching the fetuses on the ultrasound get more and more human… it did make him feel a little something.

So he was pretty sure the twins wouldn’t be getting any reactive attachment disorders. If a cold bastard like him couldn’t help feeling something, just watching from afar, he seriously doubted that Cuddy could avoid getting attached to babies that were growing inside her.


He was standing outside Cuddy’s front door, waiting to pick Rachel up, when he heard a cry from inside—Rachel’s voice.

He turned the knob, it was unlocked.

“Cuddy?”

“Dad!”

Rachel ran towards him, crying, “mom fell and screamed and now she’s jerking!”

House rushed towards where Rachel pointed.

Cuddy was on the floor of the kitchen, obviously seizing. The “scream” had probably been the start of the seizure, contraction of the diaphragm and all the other muscles, in the tonic phase of the seizure. He hoped.

He knelt, and turned her on her left side, and told Rachel to get the phone.

She did, and handed it to him, sobbing.

House called 911, and made sure Cuddy was breathing and had a pulse. He told Rachel to leave the room, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Rache,” he said, “you’re not gonna want to remember this. Okay? go to the next room.”

Rachel shook her head.

House sighed, then nodded, “come here.”

Rachel did, clinging to his arm.

He gently stroked her cheek, and sighed, as she asked, “what’s wrong with mom?”

“Mom’s having a seizure. Your brain, in here, in your head, works with electricity, like the lamp on the table next to the couch in the apartment does, okay?”

She nodded.

“Well, remember when we put a bulb that couldn’t handle the current in?”

She nodded, “it went pop.”

“This is like that. There’s too much electricity in mom’s brain, so it isn’t working right. But mom’s brain will work again as soon as it uses up the extra electricity, not like the light bulb. She’ll be really tired, and won’t know what’s going on, and might move around and get upset, but it’ll wear off, and she’ll be okay.”

Rachel nodded, and kept clinging to his arm.

Cuddy finished off the seizure before the ambulance got there.

She started breathing in loud, shaking gasps, and Rachel’s grip tightened on House’s arm.

House pulled her in for a hug, holding her close, as he watched Cuddy continue to breathe.

“It’s okay, Rache. It’s gonna be okay. Mom’s gonna be okay.”

Rachel nodded into his shoulder, as Cuddy’s breaths faded.

She was still breathing, just less loudly.

The paramedics got there, and lifted Cuddy onto a stretcher.

House gripped Rachel’s hand, and led her out to the ambulance.

They sat along the edge of the ambulance wall, as the paramedics started fluids and made sure Cuddy was stable.

House took Rachel aside, as Cuddy was transferred onto a bed in the emergency room.

He knelt in front of her, and gently gripped her shoulders.

“Listen, Rache. Mom is gonna be fine. But we need to know how-come there was too much electricity, okay?”

Rachel nodded, sniffing.

“So have you noticed anything weird about how mom was moving, or feeling? Did she talk funny? Did she look like she was going to fall after she got up?”

Rachel nodded.

“She did? She looked like she was going to fall after she got up?”

Rachel nodded, “uh-huh. And she said she hurt.”

“Did she say where? And when was the first time she said that?”

“She said it hurt when she walked. She didn’t say where. She said it a week ago.”

House nodded, “anything else, Rache? Did she bleed anywhere?”

Rachel chewed on her lip, “she got a cut on her finger in the kitchen.”

House shook his head, “that’s okay. Did she bleed between her legs?”

Rachel shook her head.

“Was there anything else, Rache? Anything at all?”

“Her hands got white.”

House frowned.

“White?”

Rachel nodded, “outside.”

“Only outside?”

Rachel nodded.

“Was it cold out? Were they red after?”

Rachel nodded.

House sighed, pulling Rachel in close, “she’s gonna be okay, kiddo. Mom’s gonna be okay.”

Raynaud’s phenomenon. Pain. Seizure. Heart issues.

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, as he held Rachel close.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, Rache?”

“Are you crying?”

House took a shaky breath, and nodded, “yeah.”

“Why are you crying? You said mom is gonna be okay.”

“She will be. I’m happy she will be. And I was scared before, that she wouldn’t be. And… god, she’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be okay.”

Rachel nodded, as he let go, “it’s good to cry.”

House laughed, quietly, and nodded, “yeah, kiddo. It is. Let’s go tell the doctors what’s wrong with Mom.”

She nodded, and he took her hand.


“*Lupus*?”

“Or RA. Triggered or made worse by pregnancy. This is probably why you miscarried before.”

“Oh… god…”

He curled his hand in hers, as she lay in the hospital bed, Rachel asleep against her side.

“It’s good news,” he said, shaking his head, “with steroids and rest you should be able to carry as full term as you could otherwise.”

She nodded, sighing.

“Thank you, House.”

House shook his head, “don’t thank me yet, Cuddy. There’s bad news too.”

She frowned, “what?”

“You’re gonna be stuck on bed rest for the next three months.”

Cuddy moaned, dropping her head back onto the pillows, “oh, god… kill me now.”

House chuckled.


House sighed, leaning against the door to his friend’s office for a moment.

He pushed off it, and had his hand on the doorknob, when he caught sight of purple scrubs and white sneakers across from black slacks and fancy leather shoes.

He smirked a bit, and limped around through the office and over the balcony, standing mostly behind the tree, as he watched Cameron and Wilson speaking. Then grinned, as Wilson touched Cameron’s cheek, and Cameron blushed, smiling.

They kissed, and House smirked.

Cameron looked down at her pager, then at Wilson apologetically.

Wilson shook his head, a smile on his face, and she nodded and left.

House waited a few moments, then opened the door.

Wilson, still grinning sappily at the door, jumped.

“What!”

House snorted, “I saw you kiss her.”

Wilson blushed, “Well… yeah. You said you were for it.”

House nodded, “got nothing against it.”

Wilson smiled.

“Cuddy had a seizure. If I hadn’t been there… I mean, Rachel probably would have called 911, she’s not an idiot… but Cuddy could have aspirated, or stopped breathing, or gone into cardiac arrest… ”

Wilson looked at House, alarmed, “is she okay?”

House nodded, “yeah… something auto-immune, not sure which one yet, triggered by the pregnancy. She’ll be fine, if bored—she’s gonna be on bed rest.”

Wilson nodded, looking relieved, if still a little worried.


Cuddy smiled, tiredly, as Wilson entered the hospital room.

“Hey,” she said, softly, as he pulled up the chair next to her bed, “I should be released tomorrow.”

“From the ICU. Not the hospital.”

“I’m trying to get them to let me do the bed rest at home.”

“I think everyone at the hospital knows you better than that.”

She chuckled.

Wilson got to his feet, wrapping his hand around hers, “he loves you, you know? Even though you two broke it off for now, he’s still as in love with you as when you were together.”

“I know. But he’s not someone it’s possible to have a long-term relationship with. At least a romantic one.”

“He’d try incredibly hard if you just gave him a chance.”

“I don’t want him to try to change himself. It’d be a losing battle, anyway. I do love him, Wilson. I love who he is, who he’s always been. I just can’t love that person all the time. He’s not responsible or mature enough enough, he’s not… stable. I’m always the one who’s gotta get him out of messes, I’m always the one that’s going to end up making sure everything gets done and is okay.”

“Well… I guess I can’t really argue with you on the stable part. But the part about him not changing? And him being the irresponsible and immature one? I don’t know if it’s for you or for Rachel or for the babies you’re carrying, but he is changing.”

She looked at him, tiredly, “Wilson. Please stop it.”

Wilson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m sorry. It’s just… he’s angry at himself for not seeing that you were sick earlier, when it’s not at all his fault. He misses you. And I think you’re being unfair. But… it’s not my decision, and it’s not my relationship.”

Cuddy blinked at him, “are you actually apologizing for lecturing?”

Wilson shrugged, sheepishly, “I promised House I wouldn’t talk to you.”

“Fat lot of good making you promise did,” commented House, from the doorway.

Wilson turned around, looking at his friend, “I’m sorry.”

House shook his head, limping in with Rachel hanging on to his left hand.

Rachel clung to his leg with her free hand, hiding half her face.

Wilson blinked at her, then looked at House, “is she okay?”

“Yeah, just sleepy. Told her she could take a nap with mom.”

Cuddy nodded, reaching out as House lifted Rachel up onto the bed.


Cuddy finally managed to convince her OB-GYN to let her leave the hospital…but only if she stayed with someone. So she was pretty much stuck in House’s apartment again.


Nurse Brenda smirked, as she saw House limp into the hospital, holding Rachel’s hand.

“House. Got a case for you.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m just taking Rachel for a checkup with her pediatrician, I’m not here to work.”

“I know.”

She held out a folder to him.

He sighed, lifting Rachel up onto the counter, while he opened the folder.

He raised his eyes, meeting Brenda’s.

The folder contained both Cuddy’s file, and a page with a betting pool for Cuddy’s due date.

“Why are you showing me this?”

Brenda smiled, “I get you her treatment information and cut you in twenty percent, you keep me up to date on how her pregnancy’s going and tell me the date if she schedules a c-section.”

House smirked, absently helping Rachel with her jacket, “how about the other pool?”

Brenda sighed, “the one about if you’ll run when she gives birth?”

He nodded.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t need inside information on that one.”

He raised his eyebrows, “oh? Figure the answer’s a solid yes? I’ll be out of the hospital as soon as she falls asleep?”

Brenda shook her head, an almost warm expression on her face, “no. A solid no.”

He looked at her for a moment, then snorted, lifting Rachel back off the counter, “you’re losing your touch. Five years ago, you would never had looked at me like that.”

“Five years ago, my bet would have been in the “within one hour” slot. Five years ago, you weren’t being what boils down to a single parent and a caretaker at the same time and managing just fine. Five years ago, you weren’t the person you are now.”

He gave her a strange look, but took the folder.

“Fifty percent.”

“Thirty.”

“Forty.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Done.”

Comments

[murgy31.livejournal.com]

Loved it!!!! You are extremely talented....