'Are you here to take my soul? Because every time I see you, you rip out my heart.' Those were the last word's spoken. The last word's poured out into the summer breeze. He stood there, in front of her, venerable, more venerable he'd been with any one before. Even himself. He wanted to cry, wanted to be alone, with his bourbon and his piano. To forget about her, for the feelings he had for her to disappear. When he saw the tears stream down her face, he felt himself shiver. A single tear had escaped the ocean blue exterior.

She was married. Damn that Aussie, damn him for having her. She took a step forward, he wanted to run. Run away. Away from her, run from... everything. He felt her small hand capture his. She kissed his knuckles, and his eyes closed.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, she turned and left, with tears in her eyes.

He watched, as her blonde hair flowed in the summer breeze, her black high heel's clicking against the cement sidewalk. He turned and went inside.

That was day's ago, he barricaded himself in his apartment, after changing the lock's. Wilson's voice came over the answering machine.

"House, pick up. Please." There was desperation in his voice. "Please just call me and let me know your okay. Are you taking Vicodin? Worse? Dammit, House pick up!"

The voice mail ended. House had been off Vicodin for a year. He sat at his piano, with a empty bottle of Whiskey and a half full glass. It had been four day's since that day with Cameron. He was plastered, but he hadn't taken Vicodin. He kept his promise to her. Not that it mattered. She was gone, gone with him. Later that night the home phone rang again. It was Cuddy.

"House, you haven't been to work in day's. You better not be on one of your binges." She sighed. "Please answer. Wilson's worried about you, I'm worried about you. I'm seriously thinking about calling the cops to come over there to check on you."

House quickly got on the phone. "Cuddy, I'm fine! I'm not taking Vicodin, so you and Wilson can stop having your panties in a bunch!" He hissed. "I have vacation time, so this is me, taking it." With that he hung up, and pulled the cord from the phone. Limping back to the couch, he laid back down, falling into a drunken sleep.

oOoOo

Meanwhile at the hospital, Cuddy paged everyone to meet her in House's DDX room. She walked into the glass walled room to see Thirteen, Chase, Wilson, Foreman, Cameron, Taub, and Kutner.

"Glad, you all got my page." Cuddy said, walking in. "I got a hold of House."

Wilson moved a couple feet to her. "Really? How'd he sound."

"Not good." She answered.

Foreman shook his head.

"Does he sound suicidal?" Kutner asked.

"I don't think it's that bad, but he sounds far gone." Cuddy answered. "Wilson and I have tried talking to him, nothing. Can one of you do it?"

"I've called him a few times." Chase said.

"Me too." Added Foreman.

"I called and stopped by his place." Thirteen interjected.

"I tried calling him before I got your page." Taub added.

"I called him the first two days he wasn't here." Kutner said.

"What about you?" Chase turned to Cameron.

She sighed. "No, I'll go check on him now." Before anyone could say anything she was down the hall. She knew this was her doing. She got into her car and drove to his apartment. All the while, thinking of what she'd say to him.

oOoOo

She knocked on his door. Nothing. "House, it's Allison answer the door." Nothing. She called his cell, she could hear it ring inside. "I know your in there Cuddy told me she spo-"

He answered. "What?" He growled. He looked a mess, he beard fuller from last time they saw each other. His hair a mess, he was wearing the same clothes. She made her way past him and into the apartment, he slammed the door. "What do you want?"

"I want to see why you haven't been at work." She ignored the smell.

"Why do you care?" He limped past her.

"House, I care about you."

"Really? If that's the case, you got a crappy way of showing it." He took a step toward's her. "Well, you saw me. Doing great. Now leave."

"No." She looked at him dead in his eyes. "Are you back on Vicodin?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nope, it's bad for you."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

He turned away. "I promised you I wouldn't." He whispered, before sitting on the couch.

"You did," Cameron walked around the side of the couch. "But since when do you care about promises?"

He gave her a hurt look. "If your done, get the hell out!" He yelled.

She sat down next to him. "I'm sorry." She grabbed his hand, but he pulled away and stood up, but she grabbed his wrist. She stood up, her fingers still around his right wrist. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I get it. Noble Cameron has to save the day, get rid of her guilty conscious." He spat.

"That's not it." Her voice is gentle. "I love you, but I'm married to Chase."

He took a step forward. "So that's it, obligation."

"No!" She glared at him. "I love him too."

"Who do you love more?" He whispered in the space above her lips.

"Don't." She let go of his wrist and tried to move, but his went up and gripped her shoulder's.

"I know it's me."

"It's not." She gritted through teeth.

"I taught you to lie, but obviously not well."

"I'm not lying House."

"Than tell me. Say that you don't want me, that you don't love me more than you love the wombat."

"I don't."

He grinned. "That's not saying it."

"I love my husband."

"And you love me. Again, that's not saying it."

"Can you just drop it?"

"We both know that's not going to happen."

"Fine." She looked down on the floor. "You."

He smiled, and took a step towards her.

She continued, "But we know I'm not going to leave him."

"Want to beat." He took a step forward and kissed her.

To Be Continued?