His name seemed to hang in the air for the briefest of seconds.
"I'll be right there." he said quickly.
Now fully alert he grabbed his cane and pulled himself to his full height. His legs shook beneath him threatening to collapse from a mix of exhaustion, stiffness and pain. Regardless he gripped his cane with white knuckles and moved far quicker than he should towards his office door.
His mind felt clear as he moved into the hallway, but his muscles felt groggy and stiff from too little sleep and too much time standing.
He stabbed the elevator call button with the end of his cane, cursing his leg for the fact he couldn't run through the corridors and clamber up the stairs two at a time to get there faster.
The elevator eventually arrived but the ride was slow. He spent an eternity trapped in a 6x6x7ft box bouncing his cane on the floor before frustration got the better of him and he lashed out at the metal doors, black rubber scuffs spreading like a rash over the cool steel.
He was out the elevator before the doors had fully opened.
He lurched through the halls and around corners until he came to her room.
He stopped, his left hand resting on the door.
Behind him were the nurses' station and a dark dim empty corridor, illuminated by the ethereal glow of computer screens and a few desk lamps. Everything was still, even the small number of staff the busied themselves with menial tasks.
Everything was still.
Even him.
But he was shaking inside.
He pulled at the glass door, sliding it to the side before stepping through a curtain of vertical blinds.
The warmth struck him instantly.
The warmth of the room, warmth of the soft light and the warmth of her eyes.
He closed the door softly behind him, his urgency drained from him now that he was finally here.
He stepped slowly and carefully to her bedside, before gratefully taking a seat. He sat so close that his knees almost touched the frame of the bed, now lower than it was that afternoon.
He felt weary to his very core and every bit of his age as he sat there. He scrubbed his left hand across his face, revealing his tiredness before letting his eyes settle on Cameron.
She looked as tired as he felt but she wore it with much more grace. She smiled softly at him, her eyes threatening to let tears fall.
He smiled back, "Hey."
"Hey." she replied.
House sighed in relief, his eyes closed as he leaned closer to her. "I was worried it might have been a dream."
Her smile widened before becoming serious.
"House."
He turned his gaze towards her. At the sight of the seriousness in her eyes he swallowed, afraid of what she might say.
Her left had reached forward and cupped his stubble covered jaw with her delicately soft fingers.
"It wasn't your fault."
Something inside him snapped.
He could almost physically feel the crack that shuddered through his body.
It was like physiotherapy. You have a back problem and you have for five years, the slightest movement causing you infinite amounts of pain. The physiotherapist works softly and gently at the pain, the lays you down before pushing in just the right way. You scream at the agony that rips through your entire body, then bliss, relief and sheer paradise.
She had taken his heart in those soft gentle hands of hers and twisted.
"It wasn't your fault." she repeated just as softly.
Tears he had fought so hard to hide for years welled in his eyes. Tears he still wanted to hide.
He leaned further forward, his face coming to rest on the flat of her stomach. His left arm reached around her hips, gripping tightly as if he would never let go. The soft fingers that once curled around his jaw trailed through his messy hair.
There was no sound as his tears seeped through blankets and pooled against her stomach; his sobs were silent as his shoulders shook. She offered no words knowing they could give little comfort, her own tears pouring down her cheeks.
They cried for themselves, cried for each other, cried for the pains of the past and the uncertainties of the future.
Eventually, when there no tears left to cry sleep threatened to overtake them.
His head still resting on her stomach he glanced up into her eyes to find them watching him; stains of tears trailing over her skin.
He smiled against her stomach, his arm still around her hips almost afraid to let go; that he would lose this, lose the fact that he was feeling for the first time in so long.
His eyes closed, the exhaustion of five years of heartache catching up with him, as he was lulled to sleep with the caring movements of her fingers through his hair.
And even as his breathing became even and regular and his heart rate slowed his hold on her was just as strong.
A/N: Just a short note to say ShipperCrazed was not responsible for the cliffhanger in the last chapter - that was all my doing. And thanks for all your wonderful reviews!