Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or any of the characters from the series.
A/N: I feel strongly that this piece of literature will soon be coming to an end. I have probably chased more than a few people off with the level of angst in this story, so I thank everyone who has stuck with it. And thank you for all the reviews.
Chapter 15: Everything
Cameron kept her head down and watched him from the corner of her eye. She didn't want to give him the extra pills, but with him sitting beside her with an outstretched palm, she didn't really have much choice. That's when she decided that she never really did, and handed House a handful of the white, powdery keys. The bottle was now empty. And by consuming its contents, both Cameron and House would soon be empty as well.
He cupped his thumb and his fingers slightly to keep the pills from falling to the ground. Their feel against his palm was an intimate one - a frequented conversation between him and a five-year old friend. A friend that would finally kill him, in all the ways he had hoped for.
When he had walked around the fence just a moment ago, he hadn't actually planned on doing this. He had planned on knocking some sense into Cameron and then dragging her cute butt back to his house. But once on the ground beside her - beside his bottle of pills - he realized the situation he was in. This was something he had contemplated doing more times than the stars could count. And now he had his chance. Now he was sitting beside the one girl who could make him feel hope inside his hardened heart. The moment he left her side was the moment he could no longer take it. This way he would never have to.
Together, they could leave it all behind.
"You know she was still alive," he stared straight ahead, to the other side of the rusting fence.
Cameron turned her head to House and looked up into his blank, blue eyes. "I know," she whispered.
"All the pain, and the guilt, for nothing." His voice was low. And soft.
"It wasn't for nothing," Cameron traced her thumb around the smooth edge of a pill in her palm. "She killed him . . ."
"She did what she had to."
". . . And now she has killed herself."
He pondered for a while before speaking. This was all too surreal for him to properly register, and he fought to keep a level train of thought. The pavement beneath him was hard, but for the first time, he didn't notice. His leg was screaming with a burning sensation, but it fit the predicament nicely. Sunshine pooled in a puddle at his feet and begged to be able to heal him. A familiar siren in the distance, and a breeze to sweep it away. But there was no use in trying to hide it: the daytime had its fair share of sin. "So two are dead, and we're both to blame," he turned to look into Cameron's eyes and found them rich with conclusion.
"Why did you hold me back?" She had to know. If it was the last thing she ever heard, she had to hear why House had forced her to make the decision that would kill her.
"I did what I had to." A silence followed his confession, and he tore his gaze away from Cameron's. It was time to prepare himself for the coming minutes. "We're all just doing what we have to."
Cameron kept her eyes on his face. On his eyelashes, his pale blue eyes (how she would miss those eyes - or would she?), on his nose, his mouth, and his chin - all she'd ever wanted was to kiss them. On wrinkles that life had put there - wrinkles that death would erase.
A lie. Those wrinkles would always be there.
She watched as he fiddled with the shirttail of his oxford - as the pills melted away in his palm. Indecision took the place of conclusion, and she couldn't tear this new pain away. She had never meant for this to happen. First Rachel. Now House. Quite a slaughter of blood was soon to be on her lifeless hands. Soon. Very soon.
She was killing him. She knew it. And somewhere deep within her selfishness, she allowed it. Cameron watched as House brought the heel of his hand to his mouth, and she did the same with her hand. Two hands poised in the air. Two people ready for the afterlife.
Another lie.
And then he turned back to Cameron.
The truth.
Finally, the truth.
Blue on green and a shade of emotional turquoise. House reached out with his free hand to touch a finger to her cheek. Damaged, yet delicate. Softer then he'd ever deserved - even in his dying moments. In her eyes, he saw monster trucks and cotton candy. A Christmas present wrapped in gold. He saw her apartment door shutting in his face and a date he had agreed to suffer through. A tie he had worn just for her. He saw Stacey. He saw Wilson and Cuddy and Foreman and Chase - a place he was saying goodbye to. A hospital, a mass of fading memories, a lonely haven and a life he could have had.
Two more gentle fingers joined the lone one on her cheek. He ran his thumb along her lower lip, staring into her watering eyes. "This is what you want, isn't it?"
She meekly shook her head and the tears spilled onto her cheeks. This had never been what she'd wanted - for House to come and join her and for them to both drift away. She was meant to do this alone. To go into eternity with House by her side was romantic as well as tempting - one last cure for her loneliness - but she loved him too much to do that.
And yet - it seemed - he loved her enough to let her.
"You're fingers . . ." she breathed. They were so calloused and warm and caressing. "I can't . . ." but she choked on the words as his thumb moved to the top lip and began tracing the outline of her mouth.
As long as his fingertips were touching her face, she didn't want to leave the sensation. She didn't want to leave this life and miss what he might be able to bring her. But she was afraid of the moment that House would remove his hand. Because that would be the moment this life lost everything she wanted.
"What if you die before me?" Cameron asked through the thumb at her mouth. She wouldn't be able to lie there on that court and watch his flame of blue die to nothing - watch as the last flicker faded.
"It'll only be a minute or so before," he assured her. "I'll die before you no matter what we do." This way, it wouldn't be fifteen years or more. She'd only have to watch for a fleeting second, and then they would both be gone.
He flattened his entire palm against the beautiful curve of her cheek. He held the only thing he wanted in that hand - and the only thing he could never regain in the other. In one constant motion, he dumped all the pills on the ground and moved to gather Cameron closer. She released her grasp on the pills as well and they slipped one by one to the pavement, as rough arms wrapped their way around her. The decision was mutual; the pain had to stop.
House practically lunged at her as he pressed his torso to hers, sandwiching her between himself and the fence. Desperate fingers pushed against his ribs and clung to the back of his shirt. Familiar nails dug deep into the muscles of his back.
He would not let her go. A thousands thugs could come and go and threaten him with grief and regret. The sky could open up and lightning could shower down. The earth could part and swallow them whole - and still, he would not let her go.
Because that would be the moment this life lost everything he wanted.
To be continued . . .
