Sorry for the lack of updates on this one... I just had to take a break. I find this story to be really draining whenever I work on it and I don't work as well drained as when I have fresh ideas and thoughts. So, I'm glad that I have this chapter down and I am planning on updating in the next day or two. Once again, I'm really sorry for the snail pace I'm taking on this story! Thanks for all the reviews, so far; every word means so much to me!

House's Fear

I shouldn't be here right now.

I should be at the hospital, sitting next to Stacy at my hearing in front of the hospital directors, but I'm not. I'm about ten minutes late right now, none of them knowing where I am. If they call my house, they'll just get the answering machine. My pager is off. Unless Wilson blabbed, no one knows I'm here with you right now. I only told him because he wrung it out of me and he knows how much this really means to me, keeping my job. But if I really wanted to keep my job, why would I be here, standing in the snow, my leg throbbing, talking to you when you're below the ground, unable to hear me?

It's so quiet right now. There is not even a wind. The sky is so bright, the snow glittering under the cold sunlight. There is no warmth here. I've been off my painkiller for about two weeks, now. Two weeks ago, you were still alive, standing in my office, trying to make me take my fury out on you so the others wouldn't have to bear it. You were really stupid in doing that, being so noble and brave when you knew I could snap you like a twig. What makes a person do something like that, sacrifice themselves for others, even if the 'others' don't like them?

I still don't know if you jumped in front of that bullet or if it just happened to hit you instead of me. Last night I had a dream, I saw that bullet rushing toward my heart and I felt you cringe away from the man with the gun, clinging to me for protection. I pushed you away and, as I felt the bullet hit my chest, I woke up, cold sweat pouring down my face. I hate dreaming. Dreaming only shows you things you don't want to see, things you wish would have happened only to push you back into reality. You don't want to see those things in your dreams because you're afraid you can't handle it when you wake up. I know that's how I feel.

It shows me that I am human, just a weak minded person, one of the numerous jerks that wander around, expecting life to get better because, at the moment, it couldn't get much worse. I hate feeling like this, so helpless. You know better than I do, perhaps, how egotistical I can be, how I hate to be proved wrong. Right now, I'm standing here, helpless, knowing I should be at that meeting, knowing that, if the rest of the team can't cover for me and keep the directors at bay, I'm going to lose all hopes of getting my job back. At the moment, I don't even know if I'm still fired or about to be fired or what.

I still haven't opened the letter. I don't want to, but I do at the same time. I held it in my hands last night, after the dream, and I ripped one corner of the envelope, starting to pull the paper apart, and then I stopped, seeing the bloodstain on the opposite end. I knew that it wasn't time to know everything, not yet. I have so many people who keep bringing the letter up, eager to know what was in it. They all want to know what the beautiful Cameron had to say to the beastly House before she was murdered. It's the talk of the hospital. I hate the way they stare at me.

Cameron, I need a sign. I hate to be so stupid as to ask you for one, but I need it. This is not original, the heartbroken man standing at the grave of the dead woman, asking for her help, but I understand how this can happen. When I open the envelope, I need it to be at the right moment. It's driving me crazy, every time I see it, I just want to rip it up, but then I would never know what you said. Cuddy pulled Chase back in the boardroom yesterday, telling him about what you said in the letter you gave her. Damn Cuddy; she opened her letter and I can't open mine. Don't ask me why I'm being so stupid. I know I am being stupid, but I just can't help but be a fool.

I hear a car, the tires crunching against the snow. I think it's Wilson. Yep, it's him, running toward me, probably to bring me to the hospital... I could really use a pill right now. I've been clean for longer than I remember and it hurts. It hurts to try to be something else, to pull myself out of the hole I willingly climbed into. This isn't me. Without the pills, I'm not who you used to know.

Before Wilson gets here, I might as well say it; after all, that's why I came here.

I'm afraid that I won't be the person you remember by the time I get to see you again. In a handful of years, it won't be an 'if,' it'll be a 'when.' I'm getting older and my health is not what it used to be; I'm a doctor, I know the effects of painkiller on the body after the amount of time I've been taking them. I know that my liver will fail and I won't be able to go on much longer without that. But, that's not going to happen anytime soon; I'm just trying to cover myself before I can't do anything else to prevent death. I can't help but think ahead. That would just fix everything for me, to die, but leave more mess behind for the others to clean up, just like you did. I know how angry Wilson is. I know how bitter Cuddy feels. You left us. You left me.

I couldn't help but notice the flowers here. I'll see what I can do next time I come here. I just babbled like an idiot this entire time and I'm probably going to be in such trouble by the time I get to the hospital. Cuddy will probably kill me if Stacy doesn't get to me first.

Remember, Cameron. Remember that you have to tell me when to open that damn letter. If you want to torture me, fine, you have the right to do that, after all that I did to you. I just want to say quickly that I should have helped you up when your shoe broke and you fell on my office floor. I just walked away. You have all the right to punish me for that.

Sorry if this didn't really explain everything. I wanted to get one last snippet of emotion from House before we jump into all the big action stuff and I won't be able to add his feelings in for a few more chapters. I like to have House spill his feelings every once in a while. It might not sound like him, but who knows? People always have deep secrets they need to divulge... Thanks for reading and please leave me a review!