House rubbed his eyes with shaky hands and stared wearily into the bathroom mirror. He squeezed his bloodshot eyes shut. The lack of sleep paired with the pain of his leg caused him to ache. With a desiccated gulp, he downed a larger-than-necessary handful of Vicodin. The room's prior darkness was made evident only when the light flipped on.

A groggy Cameron blinked as her eyes adjusted to the newly brightened surroundings. "Greg? What's going on?" She checked her watch: 3:04 A.M.

After getting over the abrupt change, House turned to his distraught girlfriend, "Just rubbing my eyes, go back to bed." He hated for Cameron to see him like this: drained, addicted, and angry. He didn't want Cameron to press him in fear that he would lose his cool and say something he would surely regret.

"Come back to bed with me," she held out a hand. Her eyes were dressed with sleep, still heavy in the early hours of the morning.

House failed to make eye contact, starring at the mirror as Cameron scaled the side of the bathroom wall with a heavy hand.

She placed a hand on his shoulder blade, making him wince. This caused her to jump back, the worried expression on her face became shrewder. "What's wrong?"

"Go to bed, Allison." House was not used to controlling himself. He paced through life snapping as anyone and everyone when he was frustrated. He was not trained in the ability to withhold that instinctual reaction. His lack of restraint was evident by how quickly his patience was fleeting.

Allison was determined not to go to bed without figuring out what was wrong with her boyfriend. She stepped closer. She noticed House's indignation but that didn't stop her from pressing him further, "You're in pain, Greg. I'm not stupid. I won't let you suffer like this."

Much more of this and he would explode. Why couldn't she just go to bed and leave him to be miserable by himself?

"How many Vicodin did you take?"

"None of your business." He couldn't tell her that he finished up a fourth of the bottle and would need a refill in the morning. The disappointment on her little face would kill them both.

House was medicating himself at a rate higher than usual. Cameron worried that he would overdose again. She wondered how long the conversation could last before House would blow up. "Greg, I-" she started, immediately regretting it.

What House wanted to express next to Cameron was that she was too good for him and that she should not have to take care of him. But what came out of his mouth did not carry with it the intended message, "Go to bed!" he yelled, "stop trying to fix everything." Why was he doing this? House knew his temper was fire and that lashing out on his girlfriend like he just had was a terrible idea.

His words hurt, but Allison understood that House was in pain. At least she wanted to blame the pain. God forbid she was just that impossible to live with. House was coping in the only way he knew how. "I'll be there if you need me." She reached up and scaled her hand down his bicep.

Cameron's tenderness etched through him like a scalpel. He half expected that his outburst would have made her cry; thinking at least he could berate himself for that later. But she didn't even shed a tear. Just turned around and did what he asked her to. That was worse than tears. It meant she was becoming used to his anger, immune to him. House didn't know which was worse.

House shuddered when Cameron's fingertips left the the bottom of his arm.

"I love you," she reached up and kissed his cheek. Her soft lips gingerly contacted his face and she could feel the stubble of House's unshaved jaw.

Cameron left him in silence. House didn't know why he couldn't just suck up his pride and return the sentiment, but it further proved that Allison was too good for him. Too nice. Too caring. She did not deserve to be treated the way he was treating her. But he was an addict with no hope for change.

Thirty minutes passed before House slipped into bed beside Cameron. She was curled into the fetal position, hardly taking up any room. Small tendrils of brunette hair poked out from underneath the comforter, but a majority of Cameron's body hid below the soft sheets. She noticed the addition of the older man beside her and moved to his side. Eyes still closed, she wrapped her arms around House's body.

As if a stone-cold psychopath, House did not hug Cameron back. He let her lie with an arm outstretched over his abdomen. She'd learn he was not the man she needed.

The pounding headache made it hard for Allison to get and stay asleep. She drifted to and from slumber, dreams filled with anxious imagery. She worried for House and for their relationship. Everything in her wanted to justify House's behavior to his pain but it was hard to deal with him.

House's tossing and turning made Cameron think that he was dealing with issues too. It was indicative of his guilt.

The next morning was no better than the previous night. Cameron woke up to an empty bed. House's side was neatly fixed and she heard nothing from the bathroom. To her surprise, Cameron found the living room empty as well. She guessed he went to work already and sighed as she ate her breakfast alone. Cameron hated being alone; she treasured the time her and House would sit and eat together in the early hours of the morning. A distinct memory emerged in her mind:

"Here you are, two pancakes and a side of bacon," House slid the food off the spatula and onto Cameron's plate.

She smiled, fervently. "Thank you."

House sectioned some off for himself and sat down next to the brunette. He watched in awe as the small woman scarfed down the meal. "You're hungry."

"Mmmhmm," Cameron nodded, cheeks still filled. "I skipped dinner yesterday."

A devilish grin appeared on House's face and he spoke low, "I guess I was partially to blame for that."

"Do you realize we were at it for two hours? I think that was our longest time yet. I still feel sore."

House stood and kissed the top of Cameron's head. He found her even more appealing this morning; the fact that was screaming his name last night and only hours later sat like a proper lady at the kitchen table. Cameron was clothed in a blouse and dress pants, hair fixed perfectly into a ponytail. "If only you knew what you looked like five hours ago, babe." House winked.

She blushed. "I can clean up nice when I want."

"Noted."

After finishing their breakfast, House and Cameron entered his car. House used his dominant hand to hold onto Cameron's petite one. Her hand fit like a puzzle piece in House's large grasp. In these moments, she felt the most loved and the most protected. She could not imagine living without him.

When reality set in, Allison had to clench her eyes shut to stop any tears from spilling. The lack of House in the room made her heart drop. She spent approximately five minutes feeling sorry for herself before gathering her bearings and heading to work.

The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. Foreman, Cameron, and House sat in silence. The immunologist refused to make House his coffee and she could tell he was roughing it. The man was in his forties and couldn't even prepare a decent 'cup of joe.' She watched as he sipped on the rancid beverage, unable to get it down without scrunching his face.

As much as House missed Cameron-prepared coffee, he couldn't muster up enough courage to ask her for it. She was already mad at him (and justifiably so), and he felt it would be a shitty thing to request.

A young girl patiently colored in the cartoon bear across the page of her coloring book. She was admitted just hours before for heart palpitations, severe dehydration, paranoia, and blurred vision.

Foreman checked the file: Mildred Anderson, female, age seven. He scanned over the remainder of her history.

House chose to work on her case because of the unconventional heart palpitations, not common in children her age without a history of heart or respiratory conditions.

"We just need to run a few tests," Foreman ensured Mildred. She did not look as worried as he had expected a seven-year-old in the hospital to be. He directed Mildred to the bathroom so he could collect a urine sample. A renal panel would rule out Lupus and hyperthyroidism.

"Don't even say it," House scoffed. The room where the diagnostic team convened was especially heated that day. He slammed his cane against the ground and followed with, "It's not Lupus, Foreman."

"Look at her blood work," He handed House the charts.

The diagnostician grabbed the paper and sighed, "It's not Lupus."

Cameron noticed how upright and aggravated House was. He wasn't even making his characteristically sarcastic remarks. Sure, he was normally crude and unyielding but that day was especially bad. He was probably dwelling on the previous night's events. In lieu of everything, she still did not approve of his utter dismissal of anything the team suggested. "You didn't even look at the chart," she defended.

"Don't need to," House limped to the addition of his office and began typing on his computer. He would never admit it but working with Cameron was becoming a chore. After having a fight, he would have liked to get away and not be reminded constantly of the words he said or the way he behaved. But Cameron was at work every time he was. She was always there and he had no way of escaping it. Like a mirror that reflected how terrible of a person he was.

The brunette stood up and placed her hands on her hips. House was being a bigger ass than usual. "How do you know?"

Without a hint a hesitation, he spewed, "I already conducted the panels. I replaced them with fake ones when you both were away." He went back to typing, unaffected by the shocked murmurs of Cameron and Foreman.

"Why would you do that? What if we treated the patient before coming back to you?" The pitch of Dr. Cameron's voice climbed higher.

House stopped and turned around to face them, "Either way, you'd be fucked."

Allison wanted to slap him. She was used to him tricking Foreman and herself, but that a patient's life was at stake. And a child's life at that. "Gr- House, you had absolutely no right to-"

"You should have been suspicious that the charts were fake. It wouldn't make sense for her potassium levels to be normal while her kidney's were failing. That should have been a clear incongruity." House paused before continuing, "And if you would have treated her, that would have made you terrible doctors. Or, more terrible than you already are ... which I'm not really sure is possible. Especially you, Dr. Cameron. god, you are off your game today." His comments were harsh. They were unnecessarily evil. Maybe if he drove Cameron to a breakdown she would give up and leave him. She would discover that he was a force that only hurt, never healed. Allison could live without him; she would be happier that way.

Cameron narrowed her eyes, "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" House stared into her glassy eyes. "I'm the boss here, remember? You should not be questioning me. I am seriously considering firing you both right now and looking for replacements."

"We're the diagnostic team! I don't know what is going on with you and Cameron, but please leave me out of it," Foreman spoke up, noting how awful House's attitude was. In all his years with the older doctor, Foreman never witnessed him act that badly.

House's words stung. Cameron scolded herself for being surprised; House was not capable of change. Not even for her. She had hoped and hoped but that plan was diminishing into nothing. "I thought you were different now," Allison choked out in a fainted whisper.

Foreman stood in silence, unsure of what course of action he should take. He wanted to leave but thought that would make it worse for them.

"Well, I'm not," House replied, his tone deep but the quality shallow. The next thing he prepared for was for Allison to scream her hatred of him and run away. It would be painful but she'd manage eventually. Learn to live a life that didn't involve dealing with a drug-addicted nobody.

"You're only saying this because your maddening pride stops you from dealing with your emotions!" She shouted. Cameron was gaining on the older doctor. Everything she said was right.

House rebutted, "Would you rather I cry and let you hold me in your arms? Whine to you about my problems? Because, let me tell you, when the shoe is on the other foot-"

Cameron tried to calm her shaking hands. She wanted to be the bigger person, "You're a fucking addict."

No way would House admit to that, "I bet you like that, huh? The worse I am, the more you have to work with. Piece me together and then you can rest easy. Once I'm fixed, babe, you won't have any use of me."

The brunette realized how physically separate they were. House had been yelling at her from across the room. It supplemented their emotional detachment.

"You see this, Allison? See me how I am? You can't handle it. Your fragile little mind isn't able to," House took a threatening step toward the younger doctor, "I'm easy to deal with when I give you what you want."

It took every fiber of her being to keep fighting. "Is that really how you see me?"

No. House knew that Cameron was in it for the long haul. And by the resilience he'd seen from her in the past, House knew she was stronger than she looked. But that didn't stop him from replying, "I know it turns you on when you play this little game of yours." His terse words were unprecedented. He knew he stepped over the line. House was already on paper-thin ice but with those words he fell into the frozen pond.

How dare he. Cameron barely croaked out her next words, "Go to hell." Her eyes were dry, her lips stretched.

"Back at ya," House shot back.

With a high head, Dr. Cameron trudged the halls of Princeton Plainsboro. Her hands quaked as she opened the doors and walked out. It was then that the tears trickled down her face. The sky was grey and signaled rain was on it's way. Cameron sighed and drove away.

Quickly, it was evident that Foreman was also in the room. Foreman himself forgot. He had to get out of there before House would start scream-

"GET OUT!" House's voice rung in Foreman's ears. He quickly left, not planning on seeing the diagnostician until at least the next day.

House mentally abused himself; locked the door; and sat down in his office chair, trapped amidst the intimidating darkness.

Cameron was relieved that most of her furniture and personal items were still at her apartment. Cameron had not fully moved in with House, so the situation did not hurt her as much as it could have.

He's so mean, Cameron thought as she clenched the pillow in her arms. Never in her life had she felt that miserable. Cameron had never loved anyone with such passion as she loved House. Her heart was breaking.

"What do you mean, 'she's gone?'" Wilson stood in the doorway, brows furrowing in distress. It had not been ten seconds before House entered the other doctor's apartment and told him the situation.

House rubbed his aching leg, popping several Vicodin in his mouth. He dry-swallowed the pills. "She left. I drove her away. It was a long time coming."

After they had stood longer than House's leg would allow, they sauntered to Wilson's couch.

Wilson's face gleamed angrily, "And what the hell are you doing here and not chasing after the one single that makes you happy?"

"She's better off."

"Oh, cut the crap, House." The oncologist could not believe the stupidity of the man who was sitting next to him. "You're doing this to punish yourself. And you're ruining her life in the process." Wilson grabbed two waters from the fridge. "You know," he started, handing House a bottle, "I was worried that Allison would be the one to hurt you. She loves to fix people so I thought once she realized what an egregious ass you really are, she'd bail." At that point, Wilson did not care about House's feelings. If he got to him enough he'd realize his foolishness.

He balled his hand into a fist a slammed in on the coffee table with a force Wilson had not seen from him in a long time. House looked ill. "Damn it, Wilson. I've already lost her."

Solemn eyes met depleted, "Not if you go find her." Wilson felt his anger rise again when the older doctor failed to move. "Go!"

House pulled up Allison's apartment. His heart was beating fast. Thoughts ran through his head; he wondered if this would be their end. Before heading up the steps, House ran a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and started on the dreaded path. When House finally reached the door, he knocked twice. Cameron did not answer so he knocked with more pressure. After the second series of knocks with no meet, House fiddled with the knob. He found it unlocked and silently thanked a God he didn't believe in that he would not have to break in to his own girlfriend's dwelling. House's eyes immediately caught sight of the wilted figure cowering on the couch.

Cameron looked terrible. Shit, she was hardly recognizable. If House didn't already know that it was (nearly) medically impossible, he would have sworn her eyes were bleeding. She must have been sobbing for hours. On top of the weary eyes, House noticed her frail body. Cameron hardly turned when he walked through the door. Not because she did not want to see him but because the energy she needed to move was nonexistent. When she gathered the strength, Cameron stood up. Her brain took seconds to register that House was standing in the doorway. And that's when it began again: her already stinging eyes filled with fresh tears and the floodgates broke. She had not cried in front of House since before their tiff and she felt drained.

House misjudged his feelings in the midst of Cameron's utter despair. It was not relief nor satisfaction, but rather gut-wrenching guilt that rushed through his veins. This was his undoing. To see her so broken by his actions made House's stomach churn. He had to do something to make her stop crying. What could he do? Had he really passed the point of no return? House expected Cameron to push him off of her when he grabbed her into his arms. Hell, he would have. But Allison was not House. And that's why she melted into his embrace. Her forgiving nature was more than House could handle. She was so fragile yet so strong; she had powered through his shit for so long. House soothed Allison as she shook in her arms. A single tear fell down his cheek. And Cameron was the only one who made him feel such a strong emotion.

In spite of all House had done, Cameron was thankful for him. That's all she really wanted: for House to be sorry for what he did. Allison wanted House to stop hiding and start admitting his feelings. If he could do that, she could stay.

"Allison, I'm so sorry. Oh, god, Allison," House ran his hands down her hair, fiercely. More tears formed in his eyes and eventually escaped. At that moment, House swore to himself he would never hurt Allison again. Nothing was worth this. He could tell that her body longed for this release. Holding it all in for that long was not healthy. He began to worry, however, when Allison didn't stop. If House could not calm her down, he feared she'd hurt herself.

"Try and breathe, okay?"

As if all the pent-up aggression suddenly clicked on, Cameron began shouting, "Not that easy, House! You do not get off that easy." Her voice cracked and her throat burned. "Don't mistake this for...for forgiveness. I'm still so... so...pissed at you...G...Greg."

He deserved this. Actually, he deserved way worse than this.

Cameron wiped the tears from her eyes. "Why...why did you do it? Why..." Damn, she had so much more to say. But her broken-down body would not let her.

Nothing he could say could make it better.

"You...you need help, Greg," Allison struggled to breathe.

"I know you're mad. You should be. I get it, I deserve it. But, you need to breathe first. You're gonna hurt yourself."

Allison was not ready to calm down. Twenty-four hours of suppressing her emotions were flooding out. "No, no, I'm n..not fi..finished," her fists came into contact with House's chest and she beat them, unrelentingly. "I wa...want you to...I want," she felt lightheaded. No, I'm not done! She began coughing. She must look awful: her nose was snotty and her stomach was threatening to release it's contents.

House knew she was frustrated. Allison had so much to say but couldn't get it out. "Breathe and then you can finish. Please don't overdo it."

Overdo it? Cameron wanted to scream. He was the one who overdid it at the hospital! Despite it all, she listened to House. Sitting down, she several deep breaths.

The elder doctor made no attempt at a response; he waited for his girlfriend to make the first move. He had his time, it was now her turn.

After Cameron's stomach settled, she continued. This time, much softer that before. She looked up at House with glistening eyes, at her most vulnerable state, "I want you to get help."

He furrowed his brows, "You mean like therapy?"

The brunette nodded, "I can't go on like this. I can't deal with you treating me how you did today. I tried...I tried to pass it off as just the pain," she took another breath, "this Vicodin is killing you."

"I know it is."

"I was so worried...worried you would," Allison closed her lids, "overdose again. I don't know what I would do if you...d...died." She wiped away the new tears. And with that, she grabbed House into a hug. Rather, she fell onto him. Deep down, Cameron knew that House would express emotion if he really wanted to. And he was. She had never seen him cry before. It was strangely comforting; a reminder that House was capable of being human.

"I'm not going to die," House squeezed her against his body.

"You don't know that."

"Hey, I'm always right. Of course I know it." He had a momentary flash of panic that the joke would not go over well but felt relief when heard a small chuckle from the brunette in his arms.

Cameron met his eyes, "Never do that again, Greg. Don't ever," she poked him in the chest, "treat me like that."

"I swear, Allison. I will spend the rest of life trying to earn your love. Because, damn, I don't deserve it."

This. This! This is what Allison wanted. For House to be vulnerable with her. Truly feel something. To stop hiding. "Oh, Greg. This is only going to work if we stop saying things out of anger. We need to communicate." She trailed a finger in House's hair.

"Come here," House held out a hand for her to take. "I need to show you something."

Intrigued, Cameron complied and followed.

"I got you something," House handed Allison a rectangular, pink and white wrapped gift. "Picked it up on my way here."

The brunette took the gift into her hands, staring inquisitively at it for a moment.

"It's not a bomb, you can open it."

Allison laughed and carefully tore away at the packaging. She pulled out a personalized notebook. It was cute, and very Cameron. "Thank you, Greg."

"Open it," he hesitated.

Cameron's eyebrows raised. She was surprised to find a folded piece of notebook paper in the front cover. On the paper was a long paragraph written in House's handwriting. He had wrote her an apology note. Cameron held the letter between her hands and read,

They say an apology can never truly fix things. Maybe they don't, I'm not even sure. Who knows, It just came to my head. Maybe it's not even a real quote.

I have never written one of these before, so bear with me.

Allison, you mean everything to me. Without you, I am completely lost. You put up with my shit yet I keep hurting you. How you manage to handle me is beyond my understanding.

I thought that by pushing you away, I was doing you a favor. But, I know now that I was wrong.

Before you, I was miserable. I keep trying to convince myself that I can be the boyfriend you need. It would take more than a lifetime for me to be that man.

I know you deserve more than what I can give you, but will you find it in your heart to forgive me?

I love you, Allison. I am so sorry I hurt you. I am going to spend the rest of my days ensuring your happiness. Whatever it takes, I will do it. For you, my love, I'd walk through fire.

Love,

Greg

P.S. I got you a stuffed bear too. It's still in my car, but it's there.

House stood awkwardly as Cameron read the letter. He hoped it wasn't cheesy and that she wouldn't laugh at him.

This time, Allison's hands were shaking so hard she could hardly hold the letter. His words had made her heart flutter and her love for him deepen. "That was beautiful," the brunette whispered. "You wrote that for me." She was still in shock. How could anyone not love someone who did that.

"I did," House was thankful for her reaction. He grabbed her back into his hold. "So, forgive me?"

The tears that raced down Cameron's cheeks were ones of happiness. She was so in love with this man. "Yes, Greg. Of course I forgive you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."