A/N: I postponed this last chapter for a while now, but I couldn't postpone it any longer. I had to end this, so that I have peace and move along. It was supposed to be something different, but I realized this was the only acceptable ending for me. Sorry to cause disappointment, but, here it goes… Thanks for reading and for all the reviews! Even the bad ones taught me good stuff. So, enjoy this last bit!
There is a moment of unmistakable revelation in everyone's life, a moment when time, that filthy robber of bliss and pain stands rooted and will not budge until all the horrible decisions made and all the opportunities not grabbed are recalled from the deep bundles of memory. Density of regret and shrieking misery will constitute the matter from which the next droplet of time will slowly, painfully be born, loud dissatisfaction on its lips. House felt the moment transfix him and freeze his body in that position, his arm icy cold under her warm and tiny hand. Her eyes were grand ovals of chocolate warmth, her smell found its way into his nostrils, up to his brain, intoxicating him, making him forget where he was and what he was doing.
She squeezed his arm and focused on him with her whole might, her muscles tense with concentration, drinking his face in for what she knew would be the last time. His skin was callous and the stubble at least four days old, but his eyes were full of positive energy, something she had not seen in him for a mighty long time. His lips were pressed together but they were on the verge of curling up into a timid smile. He looked relaxed and she coaxed herself into believing that in that second, the last time she would ever see him, he was happy.
The moment passed as quickly as a raindrop fell unnoticed onto her hand which was tightly pressed to his strong wrist. Just before it was too late, she gathered all the physical power she never knew she had within herself and she applied it on the man standing next to her.
House felt a strong push and he fell on his side. Before he could wonder at her strength he heard a car screech on the pavement, a thud, noises. Commotion. Yelling. Next thing he knew, he was pulling himself together and trying to get back onto his feet. White sports car. Open door. Blonde holding her head in agony. Bald guy holding a mobile, stooping in front of his car to
to what seemed to be
House squinted, though he was a mere few feet away from the tiny, limp human shape on the ground. He pushed the yelling idiot aside and knelt down despite the hideous pain which threatened to burst through his muscles. His head felt funny and he knew he had a concussion, dizziness hampering his every move, detaining his medical thoughts and making him unable to make sharp, precise diagnostical decisions.
He did not have to turn her over. She was lying on her back. Her beautiful hair all over her face. As his hand reached out to brush the hair away he noticed the pool of blood forming next to her tiny skull. It grew so fast that he could do nothing but watch in morbid fascination as the shiny lake of crimson changed its shape and reached out liquid tendrils to encircle Cameron's head, then shoulders. The colour of blood was so striking on the grey concrete, so beautiful. Warmth on the coldness of what seemed to symbolise the end of time.
He tried to stop shuddering and to ignore the noises attacking him from all angles. His hand rested on her warm cheek, his index slowly, unwillingly searching the sign meant to say she was unharmed. He couldn't find it.
The human mind plays tricks on us more often than we think. The doctor in him knew what the unchangable conclusion was, yet he was far from ascertaining the truth. He felt calm and light-headed, he knew something was going to, something had to change still.
But then it all stopped short and he knew.
She was gone.
As he looked up he saw Wilson and some others rush towards them from the building. He heard nothing they were saying, he knew Wilson was there to help but also that he was too late.
His glance fell on her once more. Her eyes were closed, yet he could still feel her warm look on his face. He had felt that look, the look she had preserved for him, he knew now, on endless occasions, and he was stupid enough to miss, or ignore it.
that's all I wanted, something special something sacred in your eyes for just one moment the words came crashing from nowhere, loud and clear, enhancing the pain that was throbbing in his whole body-
He heard his heart beat faster and faster as the realization dawned on him that something was over, there was nothing that could change what just happened, and nothing could change the way she felt for him. It would linger forever, engraved into his brain cells, aching and unflinching.
He also remembered Cuddy's words he had not taken seriously back then. But now as he sat there, isolated from the whole world, he knew she was so right. No other woman would ever be able to tolerate him.
Tears flooded his eyes and he shed them for her perfect beauty, fragile in death but so strong in life. He shed them for the greyish-white light that seemed to cover the whole day, giving it an ephemeral mist that wonderfully worked like a balm to his senses. But most of all, he shed them for the person he knew not, the human entity that was born in that terrible moment of finiteness, the man he dreaded, yet blissfully embraced.
(the end)