She had just resigned. House hadn't said anything as she handed him the letter, but she could tell he was hurt. But so was she. She was tired of being led on, tired of being criticized and humiliated. She was tired of feeling like she had to prove to him that she could do things.

Memories from the past several years ran through her head as she made her way into the kitchen.

"You don't want. You need."

She did need. She thought to herself as she poured vodka into a glass. After all, she had needed Chase to make House jealous.

"It was fun, that's it. And now it's over."

She always needed, especially when it came to him. She had needed House to prove his feelings to her.

"Everyone likes you."

"Do you? I have to know…"

"No."

She needed to hide her feelings for him.

"I'm over you! I've jumped on the band wagon, I hate you, ok?"

The vodka burned its way down her throat as thoughts coursed through her head. She had even found herself needing to prove herself to him. Needing to prove that she could make a difficult decision.

"I'm proud of you."

She remembered his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, reassuring her that taking a famous researchers' life was the right thing to do. He had left moments after that and she had cried even harder.

She had stood up for him many times during her fellowship. She had challenged her colleges, other doctors, as well as the Dean of Medicine. All for him.

"I'm the only one who's always stood behind you when you've screwed up!"

"Why? Why would you support someone who screws up?"

She did it, because she always knew he was right. Even when she argued with him, there was always something deep down, in her gut that told her, he was right.

"I figured, everything you do, you do it to help people. But I was wrong. You do it because it's right."

She sat down, taking a sip of her drink. Her head was full of emotions. Part of her was proud for leaving, for moving on. Another part of her was telling her she had done the wrong thing.

"You really wanna leave?"

"If you're not here, there's not much point in staying."

She sighed, sinking into the cushions of her couch. Glancing at her phone, she thought about picking it up. Her hand had almost reached it when it buzzed. She jumped; shocked that anyone would be sending a text to her at this time of night.

She stared at the phone for a moment before flipping it open. Reading the message her eyes grew in shock and surprise.

"What does that guy have to do to make you hate him?"

Nothing. She thought to herself. She stared at the phone, chewing on her lip. She glanced at her glass of vodka before grabbing it and downing the remaining alcohol. Then, before she could change her mind, she typed and sent her reply. She shut her phone and slowly made her way down the hall and to bed. A bed full of thoughts and dreams of a certain blue eyed diagnostician.

To: House
I don't need you because you're damaged. I need you because I'm damaged.
From: Cameron