Heya! Another update from me as several people wanted me to continue with the story.

This next chapter is from House's point of view, so I hope you all enjoy!

Thanks to all my reviewers -

Kizmet, DXRULES103, Perentie Fan, Fahrenheit451, limptulip and yellowNight. You guys are awesome!


'He hates me…'

Do I believe that? I blink at the thought, it sounds seriously wrong. I mean, I've tortured him, I've abused him, made his life a living hell but…

He'd never hate me right…?


He's never hated me, but this changes everything.

I deserve it, is some sick twisted way, I know I do. For what I've done…

What I've done?

What did I do?

I tied up her leg when she was bleeding, I was hypnotised, I forced myself to hallucinate, and I forced myself to remember until I had a hear attack.

Then…I prodded my own brain with electricity…and from there I don't remember.

Self pity…

Now that is pathetic, but it's a bit of a change I think, a nice difference from hating my own existence.

But that doesn't justify me. It's still pathetic.

At the end of the day I did everything I could, I can tell myself that,…but it just doesn't make me feel any better at all. Maybe I should have…

Ah, what the hell else was I supposed to do? Not go out drinking? How was I supposed to know that Amber would come, that she would get on a bus and the bus would…

Ow. That hurt, a painful throb through my head, maybe as a reminded that I was on the bus too. Thank you God, you've really played your hand out well this time you asshole.

I hope you burn in hell you selfish hypocrite, because you can't go around preaching about love and forgiveness when you're going to rip a young woman's life away in the stead of mine. She who loved, who had such potential, who cared so much…

And Me…Well, God, you already have a personal vendetta against me don't you? Is this extra punishment?

Would death have been a release?

Jeez, what am I even thinking? God? Release? There is nothing. Amber is dead. I know that, because all it took was one look at Wilson…and…I knew.

Amber was dead.

And unless there is some rare disease of the same name that I don't know about, which would be highly unlikely as I know every disease that has ever plagued man kind, then it can only mean one thing.

Death; A common disease that all will suffer. Symptoms; You stop breathing, you're heart stops beating, your brain stops functioning. When all three stages of symptoms are complete then it's all over. Game over. You loose.

You loose?

Does death count as loosing?

I would have thought it was more you winning and everyone else loosing…but then, I guess it's really about who you are.

If I died, would it have been a win for me, or a loose?

A win.

Who would miss me?

Cuddy's hand suddenly tightens against my own, and I feel this stab…of guilt? I don't know…

Her eyes are open and she's looking at me with this soft soppy doey look, still half asleep, worried, and motherly.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

And I feel it again. That stab.

It's sadness, I know.

I don't want to die.

Not because I'm afraid, not because I give a damn about life but because…I'm truly sorry for the woman who has sat beside me ever since I opened my eyes the first time, and the guy who just left me.

Because I'm sorry I messed up so much.

And I'm sorry for even considering making anyone else feel the pain that I understand…of loss.


She leans into me, her eyes suddenly truly concerned and I realise it's because I'm shaking…quite badly actually. Like I'm cold, really cold.

And I can't help myself as she comes in, I raise both my arms, it takes one hell of an effort, and I take hold of her shoulders and pull her into me.

She's taken by surprise and is forced in at a strange angle, her body pressed awkwardly against mine. But I don't let go, I don't care if it feel uncomfortable, I just don't want her to see my face so I bury it in her shoulder and take in a shaking breath.

She's stiff against me, she doesn't know what to do. Then she loosens, and hugs back and I can't help myself.

I sob.


Like my self pity.


Well, at least I can feel her breast against my chest…

Pathetic, isn't it?

"House?" She whispers into my hair, and I stop sobbing, letting her rock me gently.

Now I'm uncomfortable.

Because I know I look both pathetic and pitiful.

And because I hurt now. Everywhere, my whole body.

"You stink." I finally say.

Well, I say 'say', it's more a gasp, my throat kills, I need some water.

And I'm tired.

I hear her give a nervous laugh as I release her and fall back against the pillow, my eyes instantly closing so I don't have to look at her.

I know it doesn't work, but it's nice pretending that if I can't see her she won't see me. I feel like an idiot.

I am an idiot.


"Sorry." I say, or…try to say.

She stays silent, and I don't talk.

I can't.

Wilson's face is swimming in-front of my eyes.

My Best friend.

My best friend hates me.

I killed the woman he loves. I know that in some unpreventable, sick, twisted way that I did.

The woman he loves…loved?

Which one do I use? She's dead so does it count as him still loving her if she isn't even alive?

But loved…that sounds so…

Like he's over her.

Ambers dead.

I told him that.

He came to shoot the messenger…

She's dead.

Shoot the messenger?

Ambers dead.

He told me that. He told me with a look, with one look he told me everything.

Ambers dead.

He told me that.

He's gone to shoot the messenger.

"…Cuddy." I choke out. My throat burns, my eyes are heavy, my head is pounding.

"Shhh, don't talk. Rest, it's ok."

"Go…" I try, swallow dryness, and try again. "Go and find…Wilson…now…"


"Go…. and find him…"

I can't stress my voice the amount I want. It's so important.

He's gone to shoot the messenger.

And I can't move.

He's gone to…

"Cuddy...Find Wilson now."

I have to save him. I couldn't save Amber, but I have to save Wilson.

He's gone to shoot the messenger.

And I have to save him.

Leave a review, and I will continue if you wish. (Though, it will differ from Season 5 story line if I do.)