So, this is my first Fanfic. Before you read, i would just like to point out a few things.

1) This is not what I think the season 6 premiere will be like! it was merely an idea that came to my mind. Knowing the writers of the show, this is WAY too predictable. :) But, like i said, it was just an idea that came to my mind.

2) I probably should have done some more research on what mental facilities are like, but I was too crammed with school work! But i'm pretty sure the conditions would be way different than they are in this Fic!

3) I'm sorry if it's a bit confusing. If you need clarification, message me! I've revised it about 11 times now and decided that if i changed any more, the whole story would be completely different. also, sorry about the length. it was about 9 pages in word, but i couldn't find a good place to split it into 2 chapters, so now you have one long chapter!

4) I never realized until now how hard it is to write a character like House. i, unfortunately, do not have the cleverness and wits that the character has, so it was really difficult trying to figure out what he would say. but considering the setting and mood of the story, i thought i should make him desperate and confused, which would obviously make him a bit less jerk-like.

5) PLEASE review! I need tips to improve my writing! should i keep writing? i was thinking of doing another chapter about Cuddy and Wilson at PPTH, so tell me what you think! Plus, any ideas you have would be greatly appreciated.

Copyright- House MD belongs to David Shore and Fox.

Disclaimer- please don't steal my work.


"No." He breathed. Shaking his head, Dr. Gregory House angrily pounded his fists against the cream colored walls.

The room was plain looking. Cream colored walls, a white cot placed in the middle of the room, and a wooden dresser placed next to the wide, square window on the far side of the room, directly across from the puke-green door. In the far left corner of the room was a small wooden chair. The floor was made up of snow-white tiles with little green dots splattered here and there. The ceiling matched the boring tiles. There was no guitar in the corner, no white board against the wall, and no doctors trying to solve a case in the middle of the room.

No, this was definitely NOT house's ideal room to be in.

"No!" He spoke, a bit louder now. But no one heard. Except for her, of course.

Amber Volakis grinned. "So, what's next, chief? I mean, there's no vicodin, so we can't OD on anything. And I'm pretty sure there's' no alcohol around here either. Getting drunk is out of the question. So I guess all there's left to do is sit and chat…"

House ignored her, once again smacking the wall with as much force as he could conjure up. Hopefully, that would scare off the horrid hallucination of Wilson's dead girlfriend. Out of pure frustration, he shut his piercing blue eyes, put his forehead to his arm leaning against the wall, and tried desperately to shut her out.

Casually, Amber strutted over to the wooden chair in the corner and plopped down. She let out a lifeless sigh. Glancing over at House, she continued. "Wow, this is a…nice place. Not much to do, but there's always the option of pissing off that guy in the next room over. That could get fun…hmm…I wonder what his problem is…"

Hopelessly trying to ignore Amber's all too familiar remarks, House angrily tapped his cane on the plain tile floor. He started to make his way over to the un-original bed placed in the middle of the boring room.

Amber's eyes stayed glued on him as he limped with his cane towards his destination. Finally accepting the fact that she was being ignored, she rolled her eyes and shifted her legs, crossing left over right. "Look, you chose to be put in here, so you can't really blame this on me. You could have just accepted the fact that we will eventually be best buds."

She smirked.

"Don't you see House? I'm all you have now. You never cared about anyone else's happiness, so you made everyone around you miserable. YOU we're miserable. And finally, when there's no one around for you to scare off, you realize that you've been missing out on a lot. You could have-"

"Leave me alone." House, already lying in the extremely uncomfortable bed with his hands covering his scruffy face, plainly exclaimed.

Sarcastically, Amber gasped. "Well, that's kind of unfair! I was just trying to help. You know, we could become REALLY close if you just stopped moaning all the time. But you can't even handle your own sub-conscious." She stuck out her bottom in a mocking pout. "That's sad."

House went from covering his face to rubbing his temples. "You're not real. Get out of my head." He shut his eyes, anxiously trying to make the annoying, blonde phantasm disappear.

Amber half-heartedly laughed. Even if she was, in reality, dead AND a hallucination, that didn't stop he from being a so called "cut-throat bitch".

She stood up and adjusted her lavender pencil skirt and button-down white blouse. As she started pacing, arms crossed at her small chest, her grey pumps clacked noisily along the tile. She started towards the window, overlooking the outdoor area of the mental facility.

"Just face it House; what haven't you tried to do to make me go away? Maybe you'll just have to get used to the fact that I might be here for a little while."

Moving towards the bed now, Amber added to her point.

"I might be here forever."

A playful smile spread across her face as she stared down at House. He shut his eyes even tighter than they were before. It seemed like if he tried any harder, his eyes would never open again.

After a long moment of silence, Amber once again sighed out of boredom. She decided to sit on the bed, facing away from House, who was still lying down on his back. His jaw was tightly clamped and he rubbed his forehead in pure anguish.

After being ignored yet again, Amber decided to lay down right next to house, parallel to his tense body. House, in his causal t-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, rolled over and let out a distressed groan.

Amber slapped the mattress with both hands as a sardonic motion of defeat. "Alright, fine. I'll go away."

What seemed like forever passed by, and House finally sat up and opened his eyes. A blonde figure stood at the foot of the bed, staring him down with cold eyes. He moaned in frustration.

"The last time I checked, you saying you would go away would mean that… you wouldn't still be here. Unless, the meaning of 'Go away' was changed to 'stay here and annoy the living crap out of people who have better things to do than to try and ignore people who ARENT REAL'. If that's the case, I would completely understand why you're not out of my face yet, but you can never tell in America these days."

House let out an angry sigh. He was too exhausted and perturbed to be much of a jerk at the moment.

Amber, being his subconscious, of course knew what he was thinking. She raised one eyebrow. "House? Too tired to be a jerk? Wow! We should do this more often!"

On the verge of throwing something, House tried to swipe at amber with his cane. Effortlessly (and without taking her eyes off of house), amber caught it, as it was about to whack the side of her face. She scoffed.

"You really ARE loosing it!" she thrust the cane the same way it came, and started pacing again. Using her fingers to tick off her points, Amber exclaimed, "First of all, you're seeing things." At that, she pouted and widened her eyes. "Secondly, you're loosing your extreme ass hole-ness, which… could actually be a good thing." She stopped pacing and glanced at house. She cast an innocent, sarcastically sorry look in his direction.

"Well, not for us, but that might make cuddy a little hap-"

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" House had enough. He threw his cane to the ground and quickly stood up. Nothing else seemed to matter to him at that moment. He limped over to where amber was standing. He got so close, that if amber were actually real, he would be able to feel her breath on his face.

"I wouldn't be seeing dead people if you were already gone!"

Amber quickly responded. "Oh! Speaking of you seeing dead people! How nice was it to see Kunter again? He was such a sweet guy…I'm glad you hired him. Thirteen, not so much, but why dwell on the past?"

House never really thought about it, but why did he hire thirteen? Oh yeah, he remembered. House never could pass up a hot bi-sexual.

Oh right. Amber rolled her eyes.

She and House stood in the center of the room, staring each other down like wild animals about to pounce. Feeling a mixture of irritation and despair, he literally spat when he spoke.

"Leave Kutner out of this." The way the words flew from his mouth would puncture any normal human's heart within seconds. But even if House were talking to the actual Amber, it would take a lot more than that to stir her stubborn emotions. And it would definitely take more than that to puncture his self-conscious.

Ignoring the way the sharp words flew out of House's mouth, Amber pouted.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hit a soft spot? So I'm guessing the mention of your beloved Cuddy would also hit close to home. Does House actually have-"

"Your not real."

Amber smirked, completely entertained.

"Neither is he." She jerked her hear backwards.

House peered around Amber's blonde head, instantly spotting Kutner balanced on the windowsill. Kutner smiled meekly and gave a small wave. House was taken aback. All of a sudden, House realized where this was going. Painfully, he shifted his gaze from the hallucination of Kutner back to the bitchy-blonde that stood in front of him.

"You're not real." He said, once again. This time though, he said it less fiercely than he had before. He looked back to the window, only to find Kutner gone. This couldn't be happening.

Amber furrowed her brow, and crossed her arms. As she watched House's expression change from angry to thoughtful, a grin appeared on her flawless face. He was finally getting it.

"You…are trying to tell me something." House felt his heart drop. It was all making sense now.

"No…you're trying to tell yourself something." Her smile stretched from ear to ear at this point. It was a haunting one, the sort that would make a regular person shiver and look away; but House's mind was too occupied to think on it too much. Amber started to back away from the puzzled-looking diagnostician.

She narrowed here eyes as she spoke.

"Why do you think you're seeing Kutner?"

House DID get it. But…. The feeling was unexplainable. Waves of confusion, rage, and sorrow swarmed the doctor all at once, becoming too much to handle.

"He…was just my employee…." It was barely audible.

Amber let out a stifled laugh, trying to hold back. After all, what entertained House more than the confusion on a person's face when he said something witty and clever? Amber, being House, was more than delighted at House's reaction.

"Really? That's it? Employee? Well, why do you think you're seeing me?"

House just stood motionless in the middle of the room while Amber circled him, the unfriendly smirk never leaving her lips.

"You've been denying the truth," she closely watched his facial expressions change as she paced, circling him as a cheetah would stalk it's prey.

Her sweet voice now turned cold and intimidating.

"I'm the truth."

When House once again didn't budge, Amber exhaled noisily.

"The only reason you want me gone is because you're afrai-"

"The only reason I want you gone is because you're annoying!" House spoke a little too loudly, startling Amber. Only his mouth moved, but his eyes spoke to Amber more than his lips did.

Slightly annoyed with the interruption, she continued.

"You're afraid of your own emotions. You're scared to death of rejection. And you're terrified of the future. You really think that your one and only personality trait is the capability of being an ass?" she stopped pacing, stationing herself right behind house, so close that she whispered directly into his right ear.

" House, you're mind is trying to tell you that it's time you start…caring. Showing your true feelings." Stopping for dramatic effect, Amber took a deep breath and exhaled right into houses ear. House remained frozen, finally realizing the full truth.

No. He thought, but he couldn't speak.

"You care about Wilson. You feel guilty about what happened on that bus. And, as much as you would hate to admit it, you hate seeing him upset." She began to circle him once more, leaning in with eagerness.

" You cared about Kutner. We all know that you could have stopped him…if only you knew…"

House shut his eyes.

Amber's whisper was even quieter than before. "Guilty?"

Finally, She stopped right in front of House, and stared straight into his eyes. He looked past her, deep in thought.

Looking smug, Amber took a small step, which brought her even closer to him. Quickly, she took house's rough, calloused hands into her own and gently stroked his coarse skin with her thin, bony fingers.

"And Cuddy…" House felt a surge roll through his veins. It wasn't completely because a hallucination of Wilson's dead girlfriend was caressing his hand, either.

"You had your chance. No…you had your chances. But what did you do? You just sat there on your ass and watched her slowly…" She gently lowered House's hand down to his side, and released her grip, "slip away."

"She could have been happy, House. You could have been happy. But, you hurt yourself. And the worst part is, there was more damage done to her than there was to you. So now you're feeling…."

Amber flipped her hair behind her shoulder, and then leaned into one hip, placing her hand on it. She raised her eyebrows as she watched house slowly open his mouth to finish her sentence.

"Guilt." He mumbled. His heart burned as a picture of Cuddy made it's way into his already-cluttered mind. His eyes closed, trying to focus on her stunning features. The picture disappeared. Slipped away.

Amber half sighed-half laughed, and walked over to the window once more. "So…I guess since me and Kutner are already…you know, "she shivered, "there's only one thing you can do to get back to your…normal life." She emphasized the word normal, knowing that house's life was FAR from that.

"Well, of course you need to find a way out of here, but…you know that's not the hard part." False sympathy was inflicted in her shrill voice.

She was right. It was easy for House to intimidate Wilson into getting what he wanted, but House had never really admitted straight out about having any feelings for another human being.

"But if you push through the side that makes you a complete jerk, why would I need to still be here? Once you admit your true emotions, there's really no need for me anymore."

Amber took a seat on the windowsill and watched House start to make his way over to his bed to pick up his cane. He stopped.

Amber grinned.

"My…." House rubbed his thigh.

"My leg."

Amber put her chin in her palm, leaning her elbow on the top of the small dresser, placed right next to the window. "Oh, yeah. I forgot one little detail."