Since I just started revising Part 1 I am going to post it by scenes. As always please comment.

Part I
Six Weeks Later
The Beginning of the End

The incessant beeping of the alarm clock signified that it was five thirty in the morning. It couldn’t have come soon enough. Another night had come and past, another battle she had survived. Now another battle began, getting through the day. And so her new morning routine began. For ten minutes she lied in bed breathing shallowly trying to stave off the nausea. Once it had become tolerable she stood up slowly and made her way to the bathroom. Part one of the battle of the day, make herself look like nothing was wrong even though everything was wrong. Mechanically she withdrew her first weapon from the medicine cabinet, concealer. She covered the dark circles under her eyes…and the blackish-blue bruises that lined her throat. Her mind raced between memories she tried desperately to repress. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t forget. They were always in the back of her mind waiting for one free moment when she wasn’t focused on something else to torment her. Like every other day she trudged back to her room and picked out clothing that would cover the evidence. Today she chose a long-sleeved, red turtle-neck and a pair of black work pants. Thank God it was winter. If it wasn’t cold people would be suspicious of her recent attire. She couldn’t help but marvel at how drastically her life had changed and how much she longed for the days back in Israel and Iraq with Sharron. Back then there had been good times to balance out the bad. Back then she had been able to escape. There were no good times to balance this out and there was no escape. The closest thing she had to either of those was work. She withdrew two bottles of pills and took two of each. At six thirty on the dot she left for work, the only distraction she had.
“Good morning Dr. Cuddy,” House said obnoxiously when she walked in.
“What do you want,” Cuddy asked annoyed.
“To grace you with my presence.”
“Cute, now what’s the real reason? And why are you here so early?”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf. Now follow me to exam room one.”
“What did you do now?”
“Nothing yet. I just got here five minutes ago.”
“Do you need an imaginary consult on a pulled muscle or something equally as trivial? Or have you come up with a new way to annoy me?”
“Why Dr. Cuddy, when have I ever annoyed you? Now shut up and follow me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to show you the new wallpaper. Will you shut up and come to exam room one?’
“Fine.”
House lead her to exam room one in complete silence knowing it was torturing her to not know. Somehow he didn’t enjoy this as much as he should have, especially since what he was about to tell her would only make her current situation worse, not that he knew much about her current situation. All he knew for certain was what he was about to tell her. He flipped on the lights and held open the door for her. She hesitated before entering. .
“Why are we here,” she asked in her “no nonsense” tone.
“Sit,” House replied gesturing towards the exam table.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing that would be a problem under different circumstances.”
“What does that mean,” Cuddy asked worriedly as she hoisted herself onto the exam table.
House did not answer right away. Instead he analyzed her response, the tone, the inflexion on each word, trying to calculate how miserable she was. Her tone had been anxious which signified that she still valued her life. That was a good sign. Unless, of course, she was acting like she always was. Every day she came into the hospital she was acting. It was hard to tell when she wasn’t lying.
“Do I have an STD or something,” Cuddys’ frantic questioning interrupted his musings.
“If you don’t know by now then you must have blacked out since your last period.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed and her face contorted into an expression of unbearable agony making her look like he had just slapped her. He might as well have. It probably would have hurt less.
“If you had told someone about this sooner, you could’ve had an abortion. However, you are two and a half months along, which means the state of New Jersey says your bastard child gets to live,” House chastised.
“I know,” Cuddy replied weakly.
“You knew about this sooner I assume so why the hell didn’t you?”
“I thought I was irregular because of stress, I __”
“You were in denial.”
“I didn’t think it was possible.”
“Why? Because you’ve suffered enough? I have news for you Cuddy the world does not spread the pain equally through the population. Just because you were raped and spent two weeks in jail doesn’t mean that this couldn’t happen. How many rape victims come through this clinic and find out they’re pregnant?”
Cuddy did not answer. There was nothing she could say without ruining her entire façade. She had told House she wasn’t fine that night she had gotten drunk, the night before the awful arraignment had come to its’ unjust conclusion. She could not afford to let down her guard again. If he or Sarah learned of her true state they would begin to intervene. People could not know anymore about this situation. They already knew more than she wanted them to know.
“Why do you care,” she asked callously.
If he was going to yell at her she was going to make him squirm.
“I don’t care,” he insisted childishly.
“Then why are you in here bitching at me because I didn’t come into the clinic earlier?”
“Because if you screw up your life and end up taking your anger out on your employees then I might actually have to do my clinic duty.”
“You do have to do your clinic duty. For saying you don’t I’m tacking on eight hours. You will start them as soon as you’re done being an ass to me.”
“You want to bet,” House replied as he turned on his heel and walked out.
He shut the door behind him as if he knew she would need some privacy, as if he knew that the moment he left she would break down. It annoyed her that he assumed this and it annoyed her even more that he was right. The moment the door clicked shut an overwhelming weakness washed over her. Her entire body felt like it was made of lead; it was exhausting even sitting there. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she surrendered to the weakness. There was no point in trying to appear strong. No one was there to see her. She lied down on her side and curled up into the fetal position as the feelings of loss and fear washed over. This pitiable being curled up in a ball on an exam table weeping wasn’t her. The real her was shattered into a million pieces, pieces as fine as dust. Cuddy wasn’t sure she could pull herself back together again.