A/N: Happy Fourth to my fellow Americans! I hope everyone keeps all their limbs tonight. If this chapter seems a bit too angsty, I apologize in advance; I've been listening to Beethoven all day. As always, reviews and criticism are very welcome.

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House woke up the next morning alone, in his own bed. He winced as his leg argued with movement. He popped a Vicodin, something he hadn't had to do in the morning in weeks. It was almost as if his pain level was now in sync with the mood of his relationship with Cameron. He closed his eyes and wondered for the hundredth time why she was so afraid. After they had sat kissing at her apartment for a good half hour, she had broken off and all but kicked him out. He finally decided to shower and call Wilson. This wasn't a day for sitting around.

"So," Wilson began as he stuffed a fajita into his mouth, "do you like her, or do you like-like her?" They sat outside a taco stand near the hospital.

House forcefully tossed his wrapper into the trash. "Oh, shut up," he scowled. "I love her. She…takes away my pain." He laid his head in his hands. "The Ketamine…it worked, for the most part. But the times when I don't feel any pain at all…" His words trailed off.

"Are when you're with her," Wilson finished quietly. After a moment, he spoke again. "I wish I could say I knew how you feel. You're a lucky man, House. I think she'll come around. Just give her time."

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They were kissing on the couch, which gently turned into the floor, which led to her bed. He was true to his word; he didn't crush her. Unless the way her heart felt when she was with him counted.

She woke up with a start, his bright blue eyes fading as the reality of morning seeped through her bedroom windows. She lay staring at the ceiling for a long moment before she finally got up and started the coffee pot.

After a shower and a first cup of coffee, she popped Marry Me Jane into the stereo and set to cleaning her apartment. While she didn't exactly enjoy cleaning, at the same time it also relaxed her and helped her think. She started in the kitchen, cleaning everything and carefully laying a towel under the coffee pot. She was a perfectionist above all else.

She moved quickly through the first floor, dusting, vacuuming, and finally tackling the bathroom and laundry space. She eyed the door leading to the storage space under the stairs and decided that she would start cleaning that out after she had finished upstairs. Sometimes nostalgia was a bitch. Another thing that had gone unmentioned by House since they'd returned from Seattle was the fact that she'd been sneaking the occasional cigarette. Funny how habits that took so long to shake could be picked back up so quickly.

She sat on her patio now, her face and neck glossed with sweat and a Diet Coke in the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette. She moved to pick up the phone and call her best friend when there was a knock at the gate.

"Knock, knock," came a familiar voice. She smiled.

"Hey Foreman." He smiled back and handed her a large, flat box. "Donuts! Thanks. What's up?"

"I know it's a little late for breakfast but…" he eyed the cigarette in her hand but said nothing about it. "Seems like you've been distant lately and I was just wondering if you needed to talk. Has House done something?"

"No, not exactly," she said as she led him inside. She picked up a towel to dab at her face as Foreman set the donuts down on the counter. He looked at her expectantly, waiting.

Cameron sighed, tired of trying to explain herself when she didn't even know for sure why she was so conflicted. "He…he came over last night." Foreman nodded. "We just watched some TV and had pizza. It was…comfortable, like having my best friend over to visit. And then…"

"And then?" He asked as he helped himself to a donut.

"And then I kissed him," she said in a rush. She rolled her eyes at herself and sighed again. "And then I kicked him out."

Foreman chuckled. "What are we going to do with you Allison?" He paced around her apartment, taking in the fact that she'd been cleaning and nodding to himself. "You mentioned to me a while ago that he said he loved you while you were in Seattle. You've…been after him for so long, because I know you never really got over him after that date, and now the man's admitted to being in love with you and you're pushing him away!"

"I know, I know." She closed her eyes, thinking. "Look, you want to help me? I've finished scrubbing, and now I get to clean out my junk. It's therapeutic, but it's easier when there's someone to help me let go." She raised her eyebrows.

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Wilson had been paged to tend to another dying cancer patient after their lunch, so House decided to go for a drive on his motorcycle. He headed south, and ended up all the way in Cape May. He sat there for a while, staring out into the Atlantic. It was chilly for early October, but he didn't really notice. He wondered if this is how Cameron had felt after being snubbed by him so many times, and laughed at the fact that now he knew all too well. He zipped up his jacket and rode back home.

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After helping Cameron all afternoon, Foreman walked with her to a little bar down the road. They sat, listening to classical music and sipping beers. "I love this place," Cameron said. "They play rock music all week and then classical on Saturdays. It creates an interesting atmosphere; you'd be surprised at the kinds of people who enjoy classical music." She paused to light a cigarette. "You don't mind?"

"Please, I'm your friend. Besides, you're a doctor; you know all the risks. Not my problem." He sipped his beer.

"Old habits die hard," she said plainly. "Thanks for your help."

"Do you feel any better?"

"Yeah, a little. I still need time though. In the past…I used people to make myself feel needed. I probably broke more hearts than I realized." She paused. "You know, before that…date I made House take me on, Wilson came to talk to me, worried that I was going to break House's heart. At the time, I thought it was ridiculous. Now after everything that's happened since then, I understand what he meant. House has been…so selfless and understanding with me lately. He's risked a lot, and I just don't want to screw that up." Her voice lifted, as if there were more she needed to say, but she kept the rest of her thoughts to herself.

Foreman lightly drummed his fingers on the bar before he spoke. "Look, House…he cares about you. Take it for what it is. You and I both know he doesn't throw words like 'I love you' around lightly. Whatever you need to do to sort this out, do it. Just let me know if you need anything. I'll be here." He laid a twenty on the bar and smiled at her as he got up to leave. "Now I've got to go; word is, I need a Halloween costume this year."

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House came home to Steve McQueen and a single message on his answering machine. It was Wilson, explaining that he'd be at the hospital all night and to call him if he needed anything. House cracked a half smile; the message made it sound like they were married or something. After taking off his jacket and erasing the message, he poured himself a drink and sat down at the piano. He played Beethoven for a good couple of hours before finally heading to bed.

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They sat on a nondescript hillside, the wind blowing long grass and the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. He was talking to her, but she couldn't hear anything he said. She couldn't hear her own thoughts either; it was like watching a silent movie without subtitles. She watched in slow motion as he reached out for her hand. 'No,' she whispered, as she watched this image of herself get up and run. She turned and watched House's mouth move in laughter, and as he stared in disbelief at the Cameron that ran from him, she wept in her sleep.