Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or situations of House.

Author's note: She is Amber (A.K.A. Evil Cutthroat Bitch), and She is Thirteen (the English language pronoun system is a bit annoying when writing femmeslash. Maybe I'll try a second person POV fic some time).

Brave Enough To Be

She'd gotten caught up in her enjoyment and taken things too far. The dog collar was tacky, she and House both knew it, but it had been worth it to see the look on her face. She'd thoroughly enjoyed that – liked it as much as she hated herself for it. Was that self-loathing? It had been years since she'd allowed herself the luxury of such an unproductive emotion, so she couldn't be sure. But she felt something strong whenever she saw her – like she was burning up from the inside.

And she gratefully would have let that fire consume her, leaving nothing but ash as proof to the world that she'd ever existed.

She didn't make sense. She had killed a man. But House didn't fire herfor that – he somehow thought her guilt would make her a better doctor. She didn't feel guilt. Regret that she hadn't been smarter in a situation, but not guilt. She did what she had to do, and made sure she didn't screw up.

That's why she had to go. Those things she felt around her were fucking with her mind. She wasn't supposed to feel this way about someone, not when it could interfere with her career, not for some secretive, emotional, unprofessional woman. Or girl, more like, for the level of maturity she displayed. Acting like she was so brave, for being guilty and going on with her life. Brave enough to be guilty, to be comparatively honest simply by the absence of lies - in the bizarre universe that was House's office, everything was relative.

She often didn't feel like she was brave enough to be around her. With heraround, she didn't feel like she was brave enough to -

be.