Found this on my computer where it had been sitting for about two years. Finished it. Reread it. Liked it. Decided to post it. I'd love to hear your feedback on this! (Just for the record: I'm the author of this story, I had just completely forgotten about it until tonight!)

*I got you*

It wasn't unusual for House to enter Cuddy's office without her permission. In fact, doing it with her permission was unusual for him. He'd been in there early in the morning, he'd been in there late at night and he had been in there during the day. He'd boldly walked into her office to get her consent for all those extremely risky and extremely brilliant tests and surgeries. He'd sneaked into her office to spy on her, he'd sneaked into her office to wait for her and he'd sneaked into her office hoping to catch her in the act (not really caring about what kind of act it was – Although he'd never admit it, but House just loved the way she always stiffened at the unexpected intrusion and then – involuntarily, of course, but hey! - smiled when she saw it was him). This time, he walked into Cuddy's office because he had nothing better to do: They didn't even have a case right now and his favorite soap opera was on summer break, so annoying Lisa Cuddy was his best option... House really enjoyed annoying her, and truth is, he was really really good at it. But a skill he had not managed to acquire yet was annoying Cuddy without her being present!

House looked around in her office and frowned. Where the hell was she? She never left her office without locking the door! (Not that that would stop House from getting inside anyways, though...). He looked around: Her jacket, lab coat and purse were all hanging on the coat stand, so she had to be here!

"Cuddy? There's no sense in hiding from me! I know you're in here!"

No reaction.
"Cuddy, oh Cud-dy! Where aaaa-re youuu?" He mocked in a singing voice. That was when he heard it: An unsuccessfully suppressed whimper. And within a millisecond, all the playfulness, all the boredom, all the mocking in House's voice was gone and what remained was … fear.

"CUDDY!"
"Leave, House!" Her voice was barely more than a whisper but it helped him to find out where she was: crouched down between the wall and her desk.
"Cuddy... what's wrong?" He asked unusually gently.
She turned away, unable to face him. "Go. Away."

He didn't, of course. He was Gregory House, after all. He never did what people told him to do. Especially not what Lisa Cuddy told him to do, and much less if she was crouched down on the floor of her office, with tears in her eyes and a terrified look on her face. Carefully, he sat down next to her, leaning against the wall, staring at her with his piercing blue eyes. The playfulness and all the fake annoyance in his look had been replaced by worry, maybe even fear, although he would never admit it. He had seen her cry before, had even made her cry before, but never had she looked like everything had just been shattered to pieces. And all those times, she had either tried to deny it ("I'm not crying, you idiot. Go annoy somebody else!"), told him to go to hell (with these exact words, actually) or sarcastically remarked that if he were a human being, he would be upset about this and that, too.

So instead of leaving as Cuddy had told him to, House just sat next to her in the semi-darkness, waiting for her to say something, or do something, or both. And eventually, she did, even though her explanation only consisted of a whispered "You were right". House frowned. "About what?" She didn't respond but kept her lips pressed together. He wasn't sure whether because of the pain or whether she was desperately trying not to tell him, not to say it. But not to say what? Nobody had hurt her, right? Involuntarily, he scanned the visible parts of her body, her face, her arms and wrists, for bruises – just to be sure. Nothing. No bruises around her neck or her wrists, no scratches on her arms, no busted lip...

"Cuddy, please talk to me. What happened?" Instead of answering verbally, Cuddy slightly shook her head. Her hesitation was followed by a rustling of clothes when Cuddy removed the blazer draped over her lap, revealing...blood. It was everywhere, her skirt was soaked with it. Starting between her legs, a steady trail of blood was running down her thighs, pooling on the carpet floor.

The pregnancy. He'd been right about the pregnancy! For the past three weeks, he'd been teasing her with medical support for his assumption, but Cuddy had never admitted it.

Fuck.

House had always loved being right. Until today. Because today, being right meant that Cuddy was not just starting her period without being prepared. Today, being right meant that Cuddy was miscarrying the child she had never admitted existed. He gulped. Today, being right meant that Cuddy would never be the same again...

Yet again, he gently said her name, trying to prompt her to talk to him, but she didn't. Her whispered "Don't. Just leave, House!" was powerless, though, and House felt like she didn't really mean it, so he vigorously shook his head: "Not a chance!" He hesitated for a brief moment, his piercing blue eyes staring at her intently. She was shaking - her whole body was trembling like a leaf. House gently placed his hand on her arm, surprised when she suddenly squeezed it so tightly he could barely stand it, but letting go of her was not an option: She was losing her child right now. The child she had been dreaming of for so long. The child she had wanted badly enough to ask him to give her the fertility injections. If it helped her, he would let her chop his arm off right now! "I'm not leaving! I'm not letting you go trough this alone!" And for once, he actually kept his word and stayed.

He was there when the cramps were becoming so painful Cuddy felt like she was being torn apart.
He was there when she squeezed his hand so tight he was afraid she might be causing some permanent damage.
He was there when he realized – really, genuinely realized – that this wasn't about him but about her. That right now, all that mattered was Cuddy. Her pain. Her loss.

He was there when he whispered an "I'm sorry" into the darkness, and he was there when Cuddy's silent sniffs once again turned into violent sobs. He could tell then that her cramps had stopped. It was over. Her baby was gone. Dead. But he was still with her, cowered between her desk and the wall behind it, holding her while she was crying silently and painfully. Gently, House guided her head against his chest and held her.

"I got you, Cuddy. I got you"

Off-character? Too cheesy? Just right?
Please let me know what you think! I also found a half-finished draft for a sequel (working title: "I still got you"), so if anyone wants me to finish and post it, you'll have to let me know!