Title: Unbreak My Heart

Category: House, M.D.

Pairing: Wilson/Amber

Genre: Romance/Supernatural

Set: AU of S4 finale, AU of S5

Rating: PG-13 (may change)

Summary: What's done is done. What's passed has passed. Or has it? AU

Author's Note: I know. I should be working on the tag to 5x21. I should be working on the next chapter of Golden Afternoon. I shouldn't be starting a new story. But after seeing Amber again, I felt like writing this. Starts at the end of 4x16, just after Wilson finds the note… First attempt at W/A.

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Prologue

Sorry I'm not here. Went to pick up House. A

He read the words over and over again, still not quite believing them. Well, he believed them, but he couldn't believe it. Nothing could make him believe it. Nothing could undo the damage caused. Nothing unsay what had been said. Undo what had been done. Uncry the tears that stained the envelope on which the note had been written. Untell the horrible truth.

She was gone, and he didn't want her to be. She was gone and it was all his fault. At the moment, though, he didn't know who he was blaming. Himself for not being here to take the call? Or him for making it? He dropped his head into his hands, unable to place the blame, unable to figure any of this out.

Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't it have been some other nameless passenger on that bus? Why her? Why Amber? The tears had stopped coming long ago. Dry sobs wracked his body as he questioned fate.

Out of all the people in the world, it had been Amber. Out of all the people in the world, it couldn't have been someone else. Why? He pressed his hands harder against his skull as he came up with an answer.

Because the world liked being cruel to him. That was why it had been Amber. That had to be it. It also explained his screwed up childhood, his choice of profession, his string of failed marriages. Hell, it even explained his best friend. It explained everything. So, he took it as the final answer to all his problems. The world hated him, and there was no way around it.

"It should have been me," he whispered to the empty bedroom. "I should have been here. I should have answered the phone. I should have gone. It should have been me."

He lowered his hands and moved to pick the note up again, re-read the words again, hear her voice in his head again. Laying back, he held the note tightly to his chest. Turning his head, he breathed in the scent of her that clung to her pillow still.

"I miss you so much," he whispered before slipping away, the exhaustion of the day demanding that he sleep.

He awoke hours later, an incessant ringing in his skull dragging him forcefully out of his restless, dreamless sleep. It took him a moment to realize the ringing was not in his skull, but from the phone on the bedside table. He reached for it, not really wanting to speak to whoever was on the other end. Putting the phone to his ear, he heard nothing.

He was about to put the phone back down when a rough voice came through.

"James Wilson?" it asked. Wilson froze.

"Yes…" he answered, hesitantly. The voice didn't sound like one he knew. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I understand you've suffered a tremendous loss." Wilson almost put the phone down. He couldn't handle this right now. "Don't hang up."

"Give me one reason," Wilson demanded. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't hang up right now."

"The pain must be unbearable. A pain no balm can heal. A pain no amount of strength can overcome. A pain that I alone can cure." Suspicions still high, Wilson clutched the phone tighter. What games was this person playing?

"I don't know who you are, or how you know about Amber…"

"I know about more than just Amber," the voice replied cryptically. "I know everything about you, as well."

"Is this House? This isn't funny."

"No. This is not House. And no one is laughing, James. No one is even smiling. I have a deal for you, James."

"A deal? The only deal I'm interested in right now is the one where I hang up, and in exchange, you never bother me again." Wilson just wanted to be left alone with his grief. The last thing he needed was someone making creepy phone calls to him and mentioning things that no one outside of the hospital knew about.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. This is too important, you see. You must take this offer. Amber's life hangs in the balance."

"No. I don't have to take anything. And if you really knew about Amber…"

"Yes, you do. And I really am very sorry for your loss, James. But there is one thing you should know."

"And that is?" Wilson asked angrily.

"That I can compensate you for any and all damages. Time is not a fixed construct." The responses were getting more and more cryptic, and Wilson was getting closer and closer to hanging up. Someone obviously thought it would be amusing to play a cruel prank on him, and he was falling for it. "This is not a prank, James. And I do wish you would stop thinking about hanging up on me. It's a very rude thing to do after all."

"Who are you?" he asked. Of course, he should have asked that at the beginning. "And how do you know what I'm thinking?"

"Who I am is of no consequence. It is what I can give you that should matter most." Wilson rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous.

"And what can you give me?" he asked, pretending to take an interest in this 'proposition'. If it would get this creepy bastard off the phone faster, Wilson was willing to do pretty much anything.

"I can give you a second chance." Wilson could swear he heard the smirk in the anonymous voice. "I can give you Amber." He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat at that. His eyes narrowed slightly, and only one thought out of many made itself known.

"You have my complete attention."

"Good. Very good. Now," the voice paused and Wilson waited. What he was waiting for, he wasn't sure. But he was waiting. "Go back to sleep. I apologize for disturbing your rest." There was a click, then a dial tone. Confusion wrapped itself tightly around Wilson's tired brain, and he set the phone back down. What had that been all about? Some twisted prank call, and he had fallen for it completely.

There was no way to turn back time. There was no way to bring Amber back to him. There was just no way.

Intense feelings of anger at the caller for making him believe for even one second that he could see Amber again, anger at himself for believing it, filled him as he lay back down, clutching his pillow and trying to go back to sleep.

It felt like hours later when he finally drifted off again.

You can't see it, but I'm smirking evilly right now. You may think you know what the plot is, but boy are you in for it! The more people review, the faster you'll learn the twists.