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Summary: He loves her. With everything in his heart. In his cold, black, heart, there is one warm place, for her. And only her. But she'll never know. She'll never feel the warmth of that place in his heart, and that might just be enough to kill him.

He watches her. As she walks around the halls and enters different rooms with a dignified air. He watches, knowing that she'll never see him watching her. Memorizing her. Her walk, the way her beautiful pink lips move when she talks. He could watch her all day, and when there isn't a case, he does. He watches her with his ice blue eyes, and he wonders.

He wonders what would happen if he told her. If she knew about his feelings. Would she love him back? Could she? Would she laugh at him? Would she run into his arms or would she leave him and never look back? Could he handle it? Whatever her reaction may be, could he handle it?

He knows that he couldn't handle her rejection. He knows that if she knew and dismissed his feelings, it would kill him. His heart would shatter into a million pieces and he'd live the rest of his life in agony, in constant excruciating pain. He would die if she didn't love him back.

But what if she did? What if she could find it within herself, a way? A way to love him? Could he handle that? Could he handle being happy, with her? Could he survive the family reunions, the weddings and births of children? Could he live his life with her?

His heart screams yes. But his head knows better. In the end, logic wins out.

He likes to be miserable. He feels as if he deserves it somehow. That he has to be miserable to make up for bad things that he's done. What those bad things are he doesn't know, but why else would he be miserable unless he deserved it.

She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve to be dragged into the darkness that surrounded him. He couldn't snuff out her sunshine, her light. If they were together, he knew that was what would happen. He would dim her light until it went out. Misery loves company.

He couldn't live with himself if he did that. If he killed her spirit just by being in her company. He would never, could never, do that to her, no matter what his heart tells him. So he watches her with his cool, unwavering gaze. She'll never see him. Never know that he loves her. That he has reserved a warm place in his heart for her. She'll never feel that warmth.

He loves her and his heart screams to be with her, to live his life with her. His head screams that he'd kill her if they were together, if she knew.

In the end, logic wins. His logic always wins. It's almost enough to kill him.

Something I felt like writing. Usually I don't like sad or angst stories. I'm a sucker for a happy ending, but this time I felt like I needed to write a sad one. Oh, this is House watching Cameron in case you didn't notice that right away.