"When we are angry or depressed in our creativity, we have misplaced our power. We have allowed someone else to determine our worth, and then we are angry at being undervalued."
Julia Margaret Cameron

While Cameron packed her bag, House began to clean up the mess in her kitchen. He threw away the vegetables she'd cut up and turned to put the dishes in the sink. He noticed that the dishes were piling up, as though they hadn't been done in several days. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves, and filled the sink with soap and water.

How had he managed to not notice until now, how bad her depression was? Sure he knew that her life hadn't been easy for her, but she seemed to deal with it pretty well, or at least she had until recently.

He almost hadn't come over tonight, he had initially planned on sending Foreman or Wilson to check on her, but something in the back of his mind had told him that he needed to go. The thought that if Wilson or Foreman had come they might have missed the little details and left her alone, sent a chill down his spine.

He knew better than to leave a person suffering from severe depression by themselves. Eventually she would have stopped functioning and by the time everyone would have realized what was happening it would have been too late to help her.

He dried his hands on a dish towel and popped a vicodin before going to see what was taking Cameron so long.

He found her staring into her closet, a half packed bag lying open on her bed.

"You know it's not like your clothes are going to jump out of the closet themselves," he said startling Cameron out of her reverie.

Cameron gave him a small smile, and grabbed a few more things from her closet and placed them in her bag. "Alright I'm ready," she said grabbing her bag from the bed and walking towards the door.

House nodded, and followed her. Before locking the door they made sure everything was turned off, and then headed to House's car.

Cameron placed her bag in the backseat of the car, and settled comfortably into her seat. House started the car and they headed in the direction of his apartment.

Cameron glanced over at House, and noticed that he looked tense, well more so than usual, and he also looked a little worried.

She was still quite confused as to why House was doing this. She knew she had been slowly falling apart over the past few weeks, but she had stopped caring about what happened. She had allowed her depression to interfere with her daily life, and logically that should have been a warning sign for her but that would have forced her to admit that something was indeed wrong and she didn't want to do that.

They pulled up in front of House's apartment and he stopped the car. She looked over at him, silently asking if he was serious about her staying there with him. He just unbuckled her seatbelt and gestured that she should get out of the car.

She grabbed her bag and headed to the door. House placed his key in the lock and opened the door, allowing Cameron to enter before him. She glanced around the living room as though she were trying to solve part of the puzzle that was him by his possessions.

House took her around the place, pointing out the various rooms and locations of towels and stuff. Eventually they came to a small room with a fold out futon, desk and computer.

"This used to be my office, but you are welcome to sleep in here. Or I could give you my bed and sleep in here," he said gesturing to the room.

Cameron looked at him, "No House this is fine, more than fine. I'm not going to put you out of a bed just because I'm having some issues."

House frowned at this statement but wisely chose to ignore it. "Well the bathroom's over there, so why don't you go take a shower and I'll make us some dinner?"

Cameron nodded and placed her bag on the floor. A shower was just what she needed.

House walked out of the room and headed into the kitchen to start dinner.

Cameron stepped into the shower and turned the water on full blast. She turned the heat up as high as her body could stand and for a while stood under the streaming water thinking about everything that had happened recently.

She slid slowly to the floor of the shower, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't understand why this had happened. She sat there for a while, the water beating down on her, mixing with the salty tears sliding down her cheeks. She'd worked so hard to get where she was and to help everyone she could and now she was being punished, why?

It didn't make any sense; she stood up washing the tears from her face. Her sadness quickly turned to anger and frustration. She was a good person, and bad things just seemed to keep happening to her and she was fucking sick and tired of it. She drew back her fist and punched the tile wall in frustration, hard.

"Fuck!" she shouted, cradling her hand. 'Great.' she thought, 'smart move Allison, now what are you going to do?' She reached with her good hand to turn the shower off, and jumped when she heard a loud banging noise on the door.

"Cameron…Cameron are you okay?" he didn't hear anything. "Allison can you answer me?" House said worriedly, having come as soon as he heard her shout.

She didn't answer, she was too upset by what she had done, and was afraid of what he might say.

"Allison, I am coming in," he said warningly. He opened the door; the shower curtain was still pulled. "Are you alright?" he said.

"Yes, well no, but…" Cameron began, but gave up. "I hit my hand," she stated.

"On what?" House asked, pretty sure of how she'd hit it.

"The wall," she said quietly.

House ran his hand down his face. He thought she might do something like that, the frustration of it getting to her. At least it was a different emotion than sadness. "Yeah they tend to hit back when you do that," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Cameron let out a weak chuckle. "Can you hand me my towel and then I'll let you take a look at my hand?" she asked, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get the towel herself, with the state of her hand.

He handed her the towel wordlessly. She wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the shower.

He could tell which hand it was even before she told him. He cringed at the thought that she'd hurt herself.

He took her right hand wordlessly in his, and looked at it. "Well you've broken your index finger and your middle finger," he said. "I'll tape them up for you, and find something for you to take for the pain."

She nodded silently, embarrassed that she had done something so stupid and that despite that he wasn't mocking her.

"You should probably put a robe on or some loose clothes that won't require you to use this hand," he said, knowing she'd have trouble, at least until her fingers were taped, putting on clothes.

"I don't have a robe, or loose clothes," she said feeling small as she said this.

"What did you pack in that massive bag then?" House asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Low-rider jeans," Cameron said with a small smirk. House stared at her for a minute before comprehension dawned on him and he smiled.

"Let me see what I've got," he said heading towards his room, hoping he had something she could wear, because even in her thin state, the dripping towel didn't cover enough. He shook that thought from his head, 'She's depressed,' he scolded himself. 'She needs help right now. She doesn't need me thinking sexy thoughts about her,' he smirked. 'At least, despite her depression, she has her moments of snark, that's a good sign.'

He sighed and began his mission to find clothes for Cameron.