Author's Note: k, this took a lot of drafts. The first one was loosely based on the song- too loosely. The second had lines from the song between bits of text- my traditional songfic layout, but that didn't work. The third had a snarky, normal House- just didn't fit. He needed to be different. Incidentally, it's not half as long as I wanted it to be but I ran out of juice. It's really more a long drabble.
I don't own House, or Boston – Augustana (more's the pity).
And so, without further ado, I give you... BOSTON.
It was nearing the end of the day, and the sunlight was meekly filtering through the blinds as House sat at his desk, feet up on the table, sitting alone with his thoughts for the first time that day. Almost immediately, there was a quiet knock at the door, and Cameron stepped into the office quietly, a look on her face that made her look so vulnerable, so lost, an unshed tear glinting in her eye.
And suddenly the silence was ringing in his ears like the pealing of a thousand bells.
"It's final, isn't it," he sighed, "this time."
"It is," she replied, surprising both of them by keeping her voices steady.
"Why?" he asked, almost accusingly. "Why're you leaving?"
"Don't talk to me like that," she said, as sharply as she could manage. "Look, House, you don't know me. Not really. And I think I'd be mistaken if I thought you really cared."
House felt as though she had physically hit him, and a pang echoed through his chest. Mistaking his silence for resentment, she lifted her head to look at him.
"You don't wear my chains," she whispered, and he thought, that's almost poetry.
And then suddenly his conscious self came flooding back to him and he wanted to grab her and shake her, tell her he wore a thousand iron links on his back himself- and then he stopped. Because he didn't know her, not really, and there was another stab in his chest. He realised what the pain was suddenly, and he forced his blue eyes to meet her soft brown ones, and she looked away with the intensity of his gaze.
"You don't wear my chains," she repeated to herself; a quiet mantra. She looked up again, and said, almost conversationally, "I think I'll go to Boston- start a new life. Start over, where no-one knows my name."
"You're moving?" The words seemed to fall out of his unresisting mouth.
"I'm getting out, House. I'm tired of the weather. It's sunny there. I hear it's especially nice in the summer. Yes; a change would be good. Snow would be nice, don't you think? New scenery. Fresh. Nice weather."
"Cameron..." He paused for a moment. She waited, not eager, but so very tired, not expecting declarations of love or great sentiments from him any more.
"Boston," she whispered, "where no-one knows my name."
He found himself idly wondering how her hair would feel against his chest, how soft her skin was, wanting to hold her, hold her and never let go...
"We weren't talking about the weather," he suddenly said, as she was closing the door behind her, "were we?"
A small, sad smile played at the corner of her mouth. "Goodbye, House."
At the end of the day, he thought, he watched films and read books to really live. Every time he saw a passionate embrace, the roaring pain resounded in his heart; the pangs that made him ache for someone to touch him and comfort him and just be with him forever.
"Goodbye, Cameron."
The scent of lilacs lingered behind her as she closed the glass doors behind her slim figure for the very last time, leaving behind only memories and regrets and a thousand unspoken words.
House poured a scotch. Life went on.
Boston, where no-one knows my name.
"I know your name," he said to nobody in particular.
So that's that. Please, please, please review. –wafts cookies-