Wilson had arrived at the apartment to find Cameron passed out on the floor of her living room still fully dressed in her work clothes. Her skin was white, almost translucent, grey shadows butterflied across her face- wings spreading under her closed eyes with a delicacy reserved for the dead. Wilson pushed this thought away and stooped to lift her off of the floor, feeling each bone through her clothes as he cradled her against his chest as one would treat a sleeping child. Carrying her through to the bedroom he could hear her shallow breathing and feel her tremble from some invisible force seeming to bear down on her- torturing her in her dreams.

He lay Cameron down on the bed, covering her with the blanket which lay folded on the nearby chair, pausing to remove her work shoes from her limp feet. He turned to leave turning back at the sound of her voice breaking through the silence around them

"House….Help me……Please…." Her tone was so soft her words were almost indistinguishable- less than a murmur carried across the room by a series of vibrations. Wilson headed out of the room pulling his cell phone from his pocket; this wasn't a problem that he was supposed to solve.

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As soon as Wilson had finished speaking House had hung up leaving Wilson listening to the empty tone. He didn't know whether this was a sign or one of those destiny things but he sure as hell knew where he had to be. Gregory House was an anomaly in the medical world, but even more so when it came to the real one. He acted out of a need to prove people wrong, to push them to the limits and beyond. After that they needed to fly or fall on their own power and he didn't care what happened. That was what he had always done.

He accelerated as he got onto the main road leading to Cameron's apartment, but couldn't still his thoughts. Was it me that let her fall? Self doubt wasn't something that he allowed within the confines of his mind, it lent to mistakes and bad judgement. You cant allow feelings to get in your way. Not for anyone.

He had seen her decline over the last few weeks. It wasn't subtle and it wasn't pretty, instead it was brutal. The light in her eyes had dimmed to the point where she looked like a cadaver lying in the classroom rather than the lively young woman he had hired.

This journey was taking far too long. He had failed her because he couldn't see beyond his own fears. She had terrified him, wanted him. It was all too much and in the end she had shown him her pain and it was tearing him apart.

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The hand on her throat had loosened and Cameron found herself once again looking into the mirror whose image haunted her. She couldn't tell whether it was night or day or somewhere in between and she closed her eyes as a flash of pain swept over her. Her head ached and she was shivering despite the warmth of the room. She was sure that the mirror was broken before, though she wasn't quite sure how or why. Nothing much was able to penetrate the thick haze that had settled over her mind, cloaking any logical stream of thought in pain.

Cameron reached out to the glass, her hands somehow unbound. Touching its smooth surface she watched as her reflection copied her every movement with fluid motion, not seeming to break from its determined course. Closing her eyes she felt the cool surface, solid and motionless, her fingers sliding in patterns and codes. Suddenly she felt her fingers smart and tear, looking back at the mirror she could barely make out her reflection amongst the cracked surface. Shards stuck out towards her, their brittle edges glinting with the artificial light cast down on them from above.

In the one complete fragment of the mirror the light was reflected, blinding her. It tore at her eyes and her mind, sending her pain receptors into overdrive. Killing her. Enough. She was too tired to cry or scream. Numbness had saturated her, filling her with nothing but apathy for everything and everyone. Too tired to even be scared of what would happen.

Closing her eyes once more she shielded herself from the pain outside and retreated into herself, shutting out all hope and peace.

Peace.

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When he arrived at Cameron's apartment he was shaking with barely restrained anger directed solely at himself. The door opened to the sight of Wilson's concerned gaze, his shoulders hunched and his tie askew. He was tired. House had not really understood why Wilson was so involved in all this. As far as he could see it was only a basic relationship dependent on cancer symptoms. He knew Wilson had once expressed concern at Cameron's mental well being over a year ago but since then there had been nothing. There was something more to this, and at any other time in any other situation he would have probed deeper; this time was different. It wasn't his concern.

"Where is she?"

"Bedroom"

He brushed past Wilson and moved as fast as he could towards her bedroom, not even stopping as he knocked against an ill placed table jarring his leg. He grimaced and continued on with the single mindedness he was well known for. As he reached the threshold he placed his hand on the doorknob and cast his eyes down, seeming to gather his strength in this uncertain situation. He pushed open the door and stepped inside his eyes adjusting to the dim light that shadowed the frail childlike form of Allison Cameron. She was tense even in sleep, her eyelids fluttering ever so slightly seeing what he could not imagine.

He moved to sit on the bed so he was as close to her in her sleep as he could never imagine being while awake, the defences gone from around him in an instant. A small movement at the door drew his attention and he turned his head to see Wilson standing hesitantly, not wanting to intrude on this moment in time.

"She was asking for you. Even in her sleep she needs you to save her" Wilson's voice was steady carrying the aura of a man who has seen and understood it all. With that sentence he turned and left. He knew that this was one moment when the friendship of the two men needed no verbal expression. He had to leave House to solve this, the biggest puzzle he had faced. To solve this would be to solve the part of himself he had never confronted before.

House heard the main door to the apartment shut softly and he cast his eyes upon her sleeping form once more, watching her chest rise and fall to the rhythm of her breathing. What does she run from in her dreams? House kicked off his shoes and repositioned himself so that he was lying parallel to her on top of the blanket. Taking her hand in his he could have sworn he felt her hand gently fold around his in such a natural movement that it was as if they had done it before, he had certainly done so in his dreams. He closed his eyes letting the darkness wash over him in tides and hearing the sounds of his breathing join with hers. Sleep came quickly and he could not quite remember a time when he felt so at home in the company of another, her presence relaxing every muscle in his body, taking away his pain. Drawing him to sleep.

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She could feel him now; the cool calm presence pervaded her mind, dulling the pain that threatened to consume her. It was enough that he was here in her mind, fighting off the evils that lurked in the shadows. Substance blurred and she opened her eyes to find herself in her bedroom, but she was not alone. The sounds of another's breathing stirred her mind into thought, but she knew she must not be afraid. He had come and he was beside her, their hands connected in sleep as they never would be in the waking world. She closed her eyes once again and drifted back into her dream world knowing that she had the strength to fight off any harm that would come her way.