Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or any of the characters from the series.

Chapter 4: Let Go

Cameron's eyes grew wild with bewilderment. Or shock. Or dread. Maybe a mixture of the three. House thought and thought of something to lighten the mood, but he gave up upon realizing it wouldn't do any good. He couldn't avoid this conversation. Cameron had a right to know. He had to tell her the rest.

"Cameron, I'm serious, this locker room thing is getting old." Damn. He did it anyway - an offhand comment in the middle of a serious conversation. Why couldn't he just swallow it, just for a moment? Something down inside - deep, down inside - couldn't stand to see Cameron hurting. But something else down inside found satisfaction in seeing the pain - pain in another's eyes. It was twisted. And it made him a horrible person.

He'd had his share of pain, and if he could dump it back on the world, he would. Sometimes he felt the urge to dump it on Dr. Cameron - make her feel his pain. Just to vindicate himself. It was late at night in his office that insanity crept deep inside, and promised revenge would be sweet - on anyone. On her. But he never imagined it like this - standing in the ladies' locker room, telling her the story of a girl who couldn't be saved. The story of a girl who had to die so that she could live. It was a pain he may never know. One he may never relate to.

But that didn't mean he regretted it. He didn't. And he never would.

Without a word, Cameron ambled away from the exam bed and toward the wooden door. Light on her feet - always so graceful, House noted. He followed her lead and met her outside in the hallway. A passing nurse shot them a look worth a thousand suspicious words. House decided not to dignify the look with a reaction, and he turned to face Dr. Cameron.

This time, it was her avoiding the subject. Refusing to look at House, she started to walk away, assuming he'd be happy to let her. But her caught her arm and said, "Cameron - "

"Let go, House." Her glare was pointed, suddenly sharp. She was angry.

House was taken aback, but he refused to let her free. "I'm trying to talk to you. You're just going to run away, just like that?"

"Wow, does that sound familiar! Deal with your own demons, then we'll talk." She again tried to pull herself free, and he again refused to let her. They were beginning to make a scene, and House wondered if they should have stayed in the locker room after all.

"My demons are irrelevant here, Cameron. We're not talking about me, or even you. We're talking about - "

"Rachel," she finished for him, cutting him off. "And that's exactly what I don't want to talk about. Now let . . . go." Her glare burned brighter and sharper.

"No, not Rachel," he corrected. "And why don't you want to talk? Bleeding heart one day, Allison's irritable stepsister the next . . ."

"You were there, House! You know why!" She tried to jerk her arm away and House only tightened his grip.

"We went through two different things that night, Cameron. You can't possibly think I'm in tune with whatever the hell is going through your head right now - And would you stop wiggling!" he yelled, quickly growing impatient. "What is it with people assuming each of my arms had an infarction as well? Well they didn't! Stop fighting me and I won't have to hold you . . ."

Their quarrel was cut short by the sight of Dr. Wilson. Allison gave up on her protest and her arm dropped like dead weight to her side. House realized he may have been holding her a little too tightly when he pulled his hand away.

"What's going on?" Wilson furrowed his brow, his eyes darting from Dr. Cameron to Dr. House. They were standing there like two guilty teenagers, broken apart by the principal. But they were locked in a staring contest, challenging one another to say something. Challenging one another to run away and ignore this conversation once more.

Blue. His eyes were so blue. They had comforted her that night - given her everything they had to give. They surrendered to her what little innocence they had, and somehow, it wasn't enough.

She wasn't in love with those eyes. She was in love with the idea of love, and blue just painted it pretty. But even paint chipped away, and underneath - it was ugly. That's why Cameron looked away. The ugliness reflected her own soul.

They were both guilty. Her and House both. What had they done? They would be damned for sure.

"A highway patrolman found an abandoned, red Corvette near the Pennsylvania / New Jersey line early this morning. It matched the description I gave. They want me to identify the car," House blurted out. There, he had said it. Cameron could take it how she wanted it. And Wilson could butt out.

Wilson did just that. He immediately knew what they'd been fighting about, and wanted nowhere near this argument. House had relayed to him the events of last Friday - though not in depth - and Wilson couldn't imagine what Dr. Cameron must be going through. Even he couldn't find words of comfort, so he gave House a demanding 'you'd better be careful with her' look and simply walked away.

Dr. House hadn't taken his eyes off of Cameron. He was studying her reaction. "Would you like to go?" he feigned impatience. It was either that or acknowledge the sadness in her eyes.

"No," was all she said. And with that, she walked away.

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"I waited this long. I waited this long to feel I'd made a difference," she sobbed into his shirt. "This long to be freed from the sins of my past. I've done my time." She pushed her mouth away from his chest, still clenching the shirttail at his back, and faced the darkened sky. "I've done my time!" Cameron screamed, tears dripping from her rosy cheeks.

House closed his eyes and absorbed the vibrations of her breakdown. His arms held her shaking body and his mind willed him back into yesterday. He's never killed someone before. Not on purpose.

"Knock knock." A sweet voice. It didn't fit the memory.

House opened his eyes and twirled around in his office chair. Dr. Cameron stood smiling bravely in his doorway. It was the same smile Rachel had given him that night. And I haven't even changed the world yet, was what she'd said, through that forced and plastered smile.

"Yes." Cameron stated.

"Yes what?"

"You asked me if I'd like to go. Yes, I would."