I deleted all my stories from here in a fit of depression after Bombshells. Then the need to write something, anything, hit me. This will probably be the last thing I ever write for the show as we are unfortunately growing apart. And it's not me, it's them. I'm just having a hard time letting go.

Anyway, here's how I would end the show. Enjoy.

Everything in the house reminded her of him. From the red toothbrush next to hers in the holder to the bottle of extra-strength ibuprofen on her nightstand, she didn't have the heart to move anything of his from sight. His distinct smell still lingered on the pillow that he had called his own for the better part of a year, causing her many sleepless nights. Rachel's questions about his whereabouts while they were eating dinner or playing games made her physically ill, sometimes to the point where she would run to the bathroom and empty her stomach of all its contents.

Every room was full of memories of him. The foyer where they first kissed after a lifetime apart, the living room where he told her he was happy just to be with her, the dining room where he had bit his tongue when it came to her mother only because she had asked him to do so.

The last month had been spent going over the final days of their relationship and the decision she had made to end it with him. And everyday she fought the battle against her heart which was telling her that this was the dumbest choice she had ever made. That she would never find a love like this again, no matter how hard she looked. But somehow, the argument her head made always ending up winning, for reasons of which she didn't even know herself.

Meanwhile, House had distanced himself from her. He treated her coldly, refusing to show any emotion in front of her. Everything had changed. Even the fights related to his treatment of patients were different. His barbs at her no longer had the underlying playful and flirty undertones. Instead they were truly mean-spirited. But she refused to fight back, knowing on some level that it was totally deserved.

He no longer seemed as interested in his medical cases, sometimes not even bothering to show up to the hospital. Wilson had chased him down the first few times his absence was noted, but had decided to give him space when he knew that he was no longer engaging in risky behavior. Most of the time on days such as this, he was at his piano, downing bourbon and Vicodin to alleviate the pain.

In other words, they were both completely and utterly miserable without each other. House just didn't feel the need to put on a brave face like she did.

It was a Thursday night. House hadn't shown up at the hospital since Monday when he solved his last case. Wilson had stopped trying to make her feel guilty about breaking up with House ever since his nuptials which meant she no longer was updated about his overall state. She knew if something was really wrong with him, she would hear about it. But just because she was no longer with him didn't mean she didn't care about him. Standing up from her desk, she grabbed her purse, turning off the light as she made her exit from the office.

House heard the knock and knew who it was before he even opened the door. He knew this moment would eventually come, actually a little surprised that it had taken this long. Downing the last of his bourbon, he slowly rose from the piano bench and made his way to the door.

As she appeared before him, he noted that Cuddy's face looked softer tonight than it had in quite some time. Still, he stared at her blankly, daring her to make the first move.

"You haven't been at work since Monday." Cuddy started with familiar territory.

He shrugged. "Decided to use some much deserved vacation time."

"You know you need to let human…"

"What are you doing here?" House interrupted. "I know it's not to discuss with me the banalities of hospital protocol."

An awkward silence fell between them. "Can I come in?"

House removed his arm from where it was braced against the door and moved to the side, allowing her entrance. Cuddy's eyes immediately fell to piano where an empty bottle of booze sat next to a nearly-empty bottle of Vicodin. A twinge of guilt coursed through her body.

"So, what are you doing here Cuddy?" He leaned against the back of the couch.

"I was worried about you, House. I hadn't heard from you or seen you in three days."

The look on House's face hardened. "It seems you gave up the right to check up on me when you dumped me."

"I'm still your boss, I'm still your friend. We still have a history."

Now that she was here, he was going to have this conversation with her. Not that he was ever one who wanted a deep, emotional conversation with anyone. It was actually the antithesis of everything he stood for, but it was something he needed.

House raised his voice. "A history that you conveniently forgot the moment things got tough Cuddy. You forgot absolutely everything that we've been though. You hardly even put up a fight for us."

Cuddy gasped. On her way over, she ran through their conversation in her head a million times. She expected House to stay emotionally unattached, distant. In essence, she expected House to be House. What she didn't expect was this. This fiery passion, this vulnerability.

She yelled back at him. "You think I gave up on us? You think I stopped loving you?"

House shrugged.

"House, you weren't there for me when I thought I was dying. You made it about you."

Pushing off from the back of the sofa, he took a step toward her. "You honestly think that I didn't want to be there for you? I wanted to be there so bad for you it hurt. I was scared."

"You weren't scared."

House snapped his head in her direction. "Don't tell me what I was or was not feeling. If you think I wasn't scared…." He stopped.

"What, House?"

Taking a deep breath, he lowered his voice. "Then you don't know how much you mean to mean to me. That night, I knew the only way I could face my fear of losing you was to take the Vicodin. I risked my sobriety for you."

"So, you're saying this is actually all my fault?"

House threw his hands up in complete and utter frustration before dropping heavily onto the couch. "No, Cuddy. I'm not trying to blame anyone. I'm trying to be honest with you."

Looking down at House, she noticed for the first time that his pillow and blanket were laying on the couch.

"Why are you sleeping out here?" She asked.

House raised his eyebrows at the questions, sort of grateful for the change in subject. "I was playing the piano. Dominika was tired so I let her have the bed."

"You mean you're not sharing the bed with the wife?" Cuddy managed to keep the sarcasm in her voice to a minimum.

House shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because." He paused. "I like her."

A pain surged through her heart. Jealousy, anger, sadness. House had stopped being a complete ass around her a couple of weeks when he implemented his new plan of complete avoidance so she knew what he was saying wasn't a lie. She sucked in a breath, hoping that somewhere along with the oxygen, she would come upon some courage. "Well, I think that would give you extra motivation to share a bed with someone."

"I can't." He muttered, barely audible, even in the overpowering silence of the room.

"Why not?"

His gaze lifted from the floor to her. "She's not you."

Never before had Cuddy been put in a situation where she had absolutely no idea what to say. His barbs at her had felt like shots to the stomach, but his aim wasn't guilt or pain. It was truth.

"House, I am sorry I hurt you. The decision I made that night was the toughest one I've ever made. I still replay it in my head every night."

House lifted his hand. "Just stop talking. Stop apologizing. I warned you that it would end like this. That you would eventually get tired of me. But you dismissed me, convinced me I could be happy. And you know what?" His gaze was unwavering as he stared deep into her eyes. "You were right. I was happy. And now? Now I'm not."

Cuddy's eyes filled with tears. This was the first time since the breakup that she was reminded why she loved him as much as she did. He'd made it more than difficult in the past month.

When she remained silent, he continued. "I did everything you wanted. I tried to be everything you wanted me to be, even when I knew I couldn't."

"I just wanted you to be yourself." She yelled at him.

"How much longer are you gonna talk yourself into that lie Cuddy? Just admit you needed me to change. At least that's the truth. And that's fine. I know I'm screwed up. I know I will never be the ideal partner. I get that. But pretending that none of that is true pisses me off."

It was one of those moments in life when nothing else mattered in the world except what was going on between them. Time stood still. Life stood still.

"Why did you come here tonight? Stop lying to me. You once told me that I shouldn't lie to you. And I didn't after that. Why can't you afford me the same right?"

She walked over to the sofa and sat next to him which was more an accomplishment than it sounded like given the state of her heart and the gelatin-like strength of her legs. She grabbed his hand into hers. "There are a million things that I could say to you right now, House, and none of it will take away either of our pain. I love you and will never stop no matter what. There are many things I regret when it comes to you but loving you will never be one of them."

Giving his hand a squeeze, she continued. "There's something that you need to know."

House lifted his eyebrows in anticipation.

"House, I'm pregnant."

She could actually feel the blood draining from his hand. Where it went, she didn't know. What she did know was that the expression on House's face didn't change. They sat in silence for minutes - or hours or days - she couldn't tell for sure.

Finally, a cracked voice broke the silence. "How far along?"

Cuddy cleared her throat. "About six weeks."

House stared blankly at nothing in particular. "How long have you known?"

"About two weeks."

"Why didn't you tell me when you found out?"

She let go of his hand. "We weren't exactly on each other's good sides when I found out, House. And besides, given my history, I didn't want to tell anyone."

"Does Wilson know?" By asking questions to which he already knew the answer, he figured he could try and escape the inevitability of the consequences of the words she had just spoken.

"No, only you."

House rubbed his hands together, wondering why it didn't feel like he had just been run over by a train, why he didn't want to run away screaming, why he didn't want to make it about him at this moment.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, no real side effects….yet." More silence followed. "What are you thinking about House?"

"Us."

"That's what I wanted to talk about."

House stood up. "Cuddy, you broke my heart. And now you're here suddenly wanting to make it work again because you're pregnant?"

"I just wanted to talk…"

"I say it again. How do you think this is going to end? How is it going to be any different the second time around? I'm always going to be me, the selfish son of a bitch that I've always been. I'm going to do something wrong, and you're going to drop me. I can't go through that again, Cuddy, I can't."

Cuddy raised herself from the couch and walked towards him, placing a hand on his chest. "It doesn't have to be like that."

"Yes, it does. I'm not gonna change, you're not gonna change. How's it going to be any different?"

She hated seeing House like this, so weak and dejected. She'd always been able to see his inner pain and sadness, even when others couldn't. "Because I made a mistake. This past month has been the worst month of my life. I sat there and called you selfish when I failed to realize that I was acting the same way. I haven't been able to do much other than think. And when I look back, I see how much you were trying, how much you did love me, how happy you made me. I need you in my life House. Need you in some way - how we are now, I can't do that anymore."

House swallowed a lump in his throat. "You hurt me."

She traced a finger under his jaw line to lift his head up. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I don't know if I can forgive you."

"I'm probably never going to forgive myself so that makes two of us."

And before he knew what he was doing, he leaned in and kissed her. "I'm still angry with you."

Cuddy pulled away from the kiss. "You should be."

House's hands ran down her sides, his thumbs tracing across her stomach. "So, now what?"

"Why don't you come back to my place with me? No promises of anything. I know we have a lot more we need to talk through."

"Okay." House nodded before walking over to grab his cane by the piano.

"Cuddy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm the one that knocked you up, right?"

Cuddy smiled for the first time that night. "It's between you and Chase, but I'm almost certain it's you."

"I always knew you had a thing for his accent." House said as he opened the front door for Cuddy.

"House?"

"Yeah?"

"What aren't you freaking out about me being pregnant? It's weird."

"Hmm…I'm not sure. But let's not question it."

And then we have a fast forward of 7.5 months when Cuddy is giving birth to the baby. And House is there holding her hand. Show ends with Cuddy holding the baby, House next to her with Rachel in his lap.

SHOW IS OVER. AND WE ARE HAPPY. THE MO' FO' END.