A/N: Wow. This came out of nowhere. I just wanted to write, so I made myself. And this is what resulted. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Don't own House, M.D., and I'm not making any money!

Ratings: PG

Genre: Angst/General

Warnings: Nothing. No sappiness, I don't think. I tried hard on that point.

Main Characters: Guess!

Additional Notes: Oh fine. I never could keep a secret well. Minor HouseXCameron, even though it's not my favorite.

Wants and Needs

He looks and he knows. He can see it in her eyes—it's there, front and center. It always has been, but he's never noticed it until now. Slowly, she tears her eyes away from him and lowers them to the floor. He stares, he can't stop himself. He's never noticed that sadness underneath all the caring and anger before.

Like me, he thinks. Lonely like me.

She hazards a glance at him, wary and ready to bolt if the need should arise. He looks back at her; he sighs. Her grey eyes turn to panic as he moves closer, the thump of his cane seeming in time with her heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Carefully, he catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and makes her look at him. He studies her face for a moment. Like a gambler, he can read everything in her face: it is an open book to him, though many of the pages are torn or blank. He can see the pain. He can see the suffering, so much like the suffering he endured years ago. Before he became what he was now. He can see that she wants acceptance.

Not love. She doesn't need that any longer.

Not worry. Who ever has need of worry anyway?

No, she wants something deeper than these: acceptance.

She wants someone to tell her that she's sane. That she isn't losing everything. She wants someone to kiss her forehead and tell her everything as it is. Not as she wants it to be. As it is. No lies—she abhors them anyway. No, she wants truth. She wants reality, as painful as that can be. And now he can see this in those grey eyes.

He can see that she doesn't love. She can't anymore. Not like she used to: not innocently. She is not naïve.

She is broken.

She doesn't love.

She needs.

I don't need anyone, he tells himself. I don't need her. And what he doesn't need, he shuns. But maybe this time, he shuns because he wants. Maybe this time it is because he won't allow himself to want, won't allow himself to need. Never again. He was through with need. He was through with the deeper wants.

She looks up at him again, lost. He snaps a biting retort from his endless repertoire of sarcasm and she tenses. Again, she's been denied what she needs. In that moment, when she looks at him again and every other time after, he can see that her will is set to finally have what she thinks she wants. What she needs. He won't give it to her.

Because what she needs is what he wants.

A/N: Wow. Short. Me likey! This is only my second House fic and I've never tried this style before. I hope it's not too horrible. Please, review!