House hadn't stayed at work. Cameron had vaguely mentioned to Cuddy that something had happened. Naturally, Cuddy was intrigued, but decided to let it go, just this once.

House hadn't gotten any farther than his couch once he got home. Swallowing two vicodin dry, he closed his eyes, trying to keep his mind from the day's event. He had knownEmily would not be too excited to see him, but he had not anticipated the pain it would bring to him. He had abandoned his younger sister, and he had repressed that particular memory for so long that now it seemed a thousand times worse.

His thoughts were broken by the tentative knock coming from the front door. No, he thought. He was too tired to deal with her now. But the knocking continued, growing louder with every second.

"House," Cameron called. "Please. I can see your light on." Rolling his eyes, he eased himself up and limped over to the door.

"What, Cameron?" He asked dully, as he pulled open the door.

"I thought you could use a hand to hold," she said. He stood aside to let her in. "Are you doing OK?" she asked as she walked past him. She immediately regretted the words, but he didn't get sarcastic or upset. "Well, I mean…considering…"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired." He placed his hand on the wall, as though supporting himself. Cameron sat on his couch, patting the seat beside her.

"Come sit. You look like hell." The smile was quick, but Cameron caught it. She needed to get him distracted, get his thoughts away from the hospital. House came closer and sat gingerly beside her. "Do you…want to talk?" He shook his head, turning to look away from her. After a few moments, he spoke.

"She was nine, when I found out that our dad had been sexually abusing her." His voice was rocky and quiet. "I didn't tell anyone. I…" his voice cracked, but he made himself continue. "I knew what my father was capable of. If he found out…She called me one day and I could hear the despair in her voice. That night I called the police. When they knocked on his door...He literally smashed her head in. That's how she got the pins. My father was sentenced to life in prison. But I was four years too late. Emily…Somehow she had blocked out that part of her life. She'll never forgive me." Cameron had slid closer to him and had her arm resting on his back.

"She will," she whispered. House shuddered underneath her, letting out a long shaky breath.

"You don't know that. In fact, I know she won't. How could she?" Cameron decided to not argue. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her. He tensed but didn't pull away. "Everyone's right. I am an ass." He pulled away enough to glance into her eyes. "Why are you doing this for me? I'm an ass, remember? I am so…" he sighed. "…Mean." That got a chuckle from her.

"You are not mean. You're just…" He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Well, you're yourself."

"Comforting," he said.

Cameron smiled sadly, lifting her hand to trace along his jaw. House was so perfect, just as he was, and it frustrated her that he couldn't see it. His quick wit amazed her; she never knew the right things to say. And his I-don't-give-a-damn spirit made her in absolute awe of him. Why couldn't he see this?

House shifted beneath her touch, making Cameron drop her hand. She peered into his eyes for a minute and before she could stop herself her lips were on his. The kiss was soft and quick, but it left them both breathless. House had closed his eyes and kissed her back, and when it was over, blinked a few times, trying to figure out what had happened.

"'A hand to hold?"' he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Sure," she breathed, pulling away. "Let's stick with that."

House woke up the next morning, Cameron at his side. He lifted a hand to his face, unable to believe what he had gotten himself into. She shifted, her eyes flickering open.

"Morning," she whispered. He attempted to smile, but it came out more of a grimace. Cameron smiled sadly and rolled away from him. House closed his eyes again, and willed himself to be nice. Reaching out his left hand, he pulled her back to him. He felt her smile against his chest.

"We should get going…work," He said groggily. She nodded but didn't move.

"You're going in?" She asked delicately.

"I was planning on it. I, unfortunately, cannot take the week off to mourn the loss of my pride." He chuckled to himself. He nudged her off, sat up and reached for his cane. His leg was giving him hell, but he was not about to show it. Palming the bottle of vicodin, he limped into his bathroom. He let the water in the shower run, but never stepped in. Staring at himself in the mirror, he tried to figure out his best strategy. He had gotten into something with Cameron; something that would not kindly curl up and hide, unnoticed by anyone. A kiss was not going to go unnoticed by Cameron. She was going to make it out to be something it wasn't, he was sure of it.

Shutting off the water, House went back to his bedroom. Cameron was gone, but the bed had been made, so he couldn't forget she had been there. Following the smell of coffee, he found her in the kitchen, making breakfast.

"You're…cooking," he said, watching her in disbelief. She looked up at him and smiled unsurely.

"Yeah. Is that all right?" House simply nodded his head and continued down the hall to the living room. He stared at the TV though there was nothing there. Cameron came into the room with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs and bacon.

"I have to go," she said, as he looked dumbly at his plate. Slowly her words registered in his brain and he stopped her just before she shut the door behind her.

"Leave? You made me breakfast and then you leave?" She poked her head back in the door to glance at him.

"Yeah." She shrugged and shut the door leaving House to poke at his food for an hour before tossing it in the trash.

She's getting to you, he thought. This could get very very bad.