I never told you that I loved you. That was my biggest mistake. I never told you that I see you. I see you even when I'm not awake. I never told you that I hear you. Even when you're not even near. I never told you that I hate you. It was something you could already feel. I never told you how much you disappointed me. Every time you turned around. I never told you because we had so much time. And then it came too soon. I never told you because I was afraid. Never would I have thought you were too. I never told you why I stayed. But then again, neither did you. I never told you why I cry. But you already knew. I never told you that my heart broke. But it wasn't why you cared. I never told you why I lied. Nothing would ever change. I never told you that you were my life. Something I treasured above all others. I never told you that I loved you. You, and no one else. I never told you any of these things. Because you were all I had.

I never told you that I loved you.

He watches her wash her hands in the stainless steel sink. Picking up his glass of water, he downs two of his vicodin and swallows them with a gulp. Setting it back on the counter, she doesn't even glance his way. Instead, she reaches for the ordinary green towel and starts to dry her hands.

He's tired this morning. The pain in his leg has been growing each day of the week, and now on this Saturday, he is home. And in his home is her.

She lays down the towel with a sigh and leans back against the sink. She thinks he looks worse today than any other day this week. They had been working at the hospital today because Cuddy had a case for them. It being a Saturday, she figured he wouldn't show. But he did. She knew that the pain was there. She could see it in the way he hobbled slower and softly than before. She saw it in the way he never walked unless he had too. She sees it now in the lines that crease his face.

He is glad Cuddy forced him to come home, even though she'd been the one to make him go in the first place. Falling in the middle of the hall must have given her a clue that he shouldn't have been there, especially on the weekend. The case hadn't been all that hard to solve, but it had given him something to do. It gave him something to think of instead of the pain that was controlling him.

House slumps forward and puts his elbows on the table top.

She sighs and doesn't know what to do now. She had offered to take him home, and when they'd got here, she'd been the one helping him to walk. Even with the countless number of pills he took, the pain was still too much. He had fallen asleep and she had stayed here. She cleaned. She cooked a small dinner for him. And she looked. With hesitation at first, but then confidently as she heard him snore.

"You snore."

He wonders where that comes from, but decides it doesn't matter.

"You clean."

He motions to the kitchen and his living room. He has never seen this place spotless before. And he has to admit, it frightens him. Not because it's something new and foreign, but because it reminds him of how empty it is.

"Are you okay?"

He wants to say no. He's in pain. Horrible, awful, pain and he knows it won't go away. It's the kind of pain that only comes every now and then, and he knows it will pass, but for right now, it's too much.

"Why do you care?"

And why does she? She doesn't know. There is no reason for her to care for this man with the way he has treated her. But she does. And she has stopped asking herself why long ago.

"I was just being nice."

Well, of course, he thinks. She is always trying to be nice and courteous. She's always trying to do the right thing. This was his Cameron.

"Being nice kills, you know?"

She wants to smile, and so lets the corners of her lips flip slightly up for just a brief moment.

"Then you'll be alive a long, long time, Dr. House."

It wasn't a strong comeback, he admits, but at least it was one. It was more than he would have gotten out of her when she first started working with him.

"And hopefully with no nice people. Maybe your species will have died out by then."

She knows he's not trying. Usually, he was ruder.

"What will you do without Wilson?"

"You don't really think he's a good guy do you? Look at his track record."

He wonders why she's stalling. She keeps looking at her watch, but doesn't make a move to leave.

"I'm guess I'm going home, then."

"Off you go to rearrange your teddy bears then."

He watches her grab her coat and purse before pausing at the door to turn around. He makes sure not to look at her, even though she's looking at him. When he hears the door close, he lets out a breath. She is too nice. She is too caring. And he is not nice. And he is not too caring, either.

With a big sigh, he slides from the stool and grabs his cane. By the time he makes it to his couch, he's too tired to stay awake any longer. The last thought that graces his mind, is that of her. He remembers the last time he let someone in. It was her who took his life from him. It was her that he dreamt about. And it was her that he blamed. But it was her who had shown him that everyone would leave him in the end. And it was her that made him tell himself that no other woman would ever hurt him again.

A/N: Well, this was done in a sort of serious mood that found me. I have a fun fic, and I guess some part of me needed a counterbalance. lol. Anyways, there's more to come if any of you want it. Thanks.