We are all wounded, all broken. Some of us, like House, are lucky because our wounds are on the outside for all to see. His leg gives House an excuse to be a bastard and makes the rest of us put up with things that we shouldn't. Then there are those that are wounded on the inside. To make matters worse, there are people, like me, who look so great on the outside, exactly the type of person that society idealizes (thin, pretty, successful), that no one ever guesses that we're just as wounded as that wheelchair-bound man. We can only keep up the façade so long, however… sooner or later it catches up to us and we crumble.

Allison, Wednesday

She looked over what she had typed on the screen with a critical eye. 'Allie, honey, it's a good thing you became a doctor and not a journalist. You just don't have it.' Wearily, she rubbed her eyes and contemplated moving but it seemed like too much effort. Still, she didn't particularly want to spend the night at the hospital. She wanted to go home, to silence and orderliness, where she wouldn't be disturbed by people dying or…

Too late. The person with the cane had found her.

"Get tired of playing table hockey with Wilson?" she asked, not removing her hands from her face.

"Get tired of watching people die?" He leaned over her and she could smell a lingering scent of cherry candy. All of a sudden she realized that he was reading the words on her laptop, and she abruptly closed it, just missing his nose.

"God, House, no one really has any privacy when you're around, do they." It was a statement, not a question. She had worked under him long enough to realize that he considered everything his business – and the more dark and mysterious, the better.

"I let you answer my very personal, very private mail," he retorted, sitting beside her. "It's only fair that I get something in return."

"Fine, you get to answer the next incoherent letter from my Aunt Sue."

He cocked his head towards her. "Do people actually have Aunt Sues? I thought Aunt Sue was the generic family member who belonged to everyone."

She sighed, wearily. "No, I really have an Aunt Sue. And she really does write me incoherent letters that I answer."

"So, how was your day?" he pretended to stare into her eyes, all energized with interest.

She moved to get up. "You know how my day was. You gave me the dying guy. He died. I'm going home."

He started fiddling with his cane. "You didn't ask about my day."

"I know about your day. You got to spend it in the clinic. Where you will be spending more and more days until Cuddy either goes into retirement or you quit." Then she frowned, remembering how earlier he had asked her a question. "Wait, whatever happened to that girl? The one who was raped? Did you end up helping her?"

He smirked a bit but when he spoke, his voice was didn't carry the same tone of sarcasm. "I made a girl cry, Cameron. You would've been proud. Not only did I get to hear her dark secrets but I got to tell a few of my own."

Suddenly she was angry, although she didn't know why. "Well, goodie, goodie for you. All the benefits of therapy without the couch and the notebook. You'll sleep better tonight. God, you are such a jerk." She turned to leave but was stopped by his cane in front of her.

"Trying to trip me, House? That's childish even for you."

"Did someone piss in your cornflakes this morning, Cameron? Where is the little Merry Sunshine that I've come to know and despise?" He leered at her suggestively.

Cameron had never wanted to hurt someone so badly. She could feel the heat on her face and loathed herself for displaying her emotions so openly.

"You'd better get yourself a hooker tonight if you want sunshine," she retorted. "And make sure it is someone who doesn't know you. I can't imagine any hooker, regardless of her circumstances, wanting to service you twice."

She left the room without looking to see what reaction her words had produced on House's face. By the time she got to her locker she was in tears.

'Why do I let him get to me like this?' she wondered silently. She went over the conversation in her mind and was shocked to come to the conclusion that she was jealous. Someone other than her got to hear what went on in House's mind.

'Real mature, Allie, really" she muttered. Reluctantly she got her coat and then went back up to House's office to apologize but he was gone.