My first House het ship...ever actually. Anyway so this has got huge spoilers for the first part of the seaon 4 finale "House's Head" so read at your own risk. This is also a House/Amber fic. If you don't like Amber that's fine but don't bitch to me about your hatred because I just don't care to be honest with you. Anyway comment if you like ok. Oh and I own nothing and this fic was inspired by My Chemical Romance's song 'Demolition Lovers'


So this is what it feels like to be in a washing machine. That was the first thing that popped into House's mind as the large greyhound bus flipped onto its side and he was tossed into the air like a rag doll. He saw shards of glass flying like shooting stars, strong metal snap like a fragile twig, he saw flashes of gold he saw splatters and pools of red.

Eyes locking and House realizes that she's so close to him so close. He could pull her to him, protect her somehow. He reaches out with a shaky hand he sees tears in her eyes and she reaches a pale hand out towards him. He's can't remember if she had always been that pale in the moonlight or if the flecks of blood he sees shooting with starry glass has something to do with her pallor.

So close the bus is still moving, he can hear the horrible sound of metal tearing against cracked concrete and he's not sure if they'll ever stop. Fingers ghosting against each other finally grasping her hand as best he can he tries to pull her to him.

For the first time he notices the screaming as they slam into something else and he's ripped away from her violently and he's not sure who's screaming anymore, if they anguished cry is coming from the bus driver or the emo kid or if it's coming from himself.

It's quiet now like all those nights when he was a teenager and he used to lie on his parents roof just to escape from reality. But reality had been hit by a truck today and he was trapped in the middle of warped metal, blood, and her. Her. He looked up blue eyes locking with hazel easier than expected and her gaze guides him downward and he doesn't think he's ever been so sick at the sight of blood before in his life. Eyes meet again; tear tracks and blood marring her pretty face, mascara running and lipstick smudged.

He's moving and he doesn't know where this little strength has come from but he's getting closer and the pain in his leg and his head are no concern to him because he has to save her. He has to keep her alive, he has to keep her from becoming even more like him. Metal is such an ugly thing he decides, it's coldness and cruelty is almost alien but at the same time so human. Maybe that's why metal becomes one with human flesh so easily. Why bullets can rip through skin, muscle, bone like butter because it's apart of the body itself. Maybe that's all humans are is bullets.

She's crying and begging him silently to help her and he knows that she doesn't have much time. He grabs her scarf from around her neck and ties it around her thigh his hand lingering there after he's pulled the final knot. He feels darkness coming over him and he figures that if they die here that at least they'll die together they won't be alone. The last thing he's conscious of as he lays his head down onto her uninjured leg is shaking slim fingers in his bloody hair.

He's in hell, he knows it even before he opens his eyes and he wonders if she's still with him or if she was less like him than everyone thought. He's not sure where he wants her to be at the moment and as he opens his eyes he sees her being taken away from him and he finally realizes that he wants her to go to hell. He wants her with him. He reaches for her again but she doesn't or can't reach back he can't tell she's too far away from him now and he manages to whisper "Amber," before everything gets wiped clean.