Author's Note: Just a little one-shot I've had lying around for a bit. Unlike a lot of people, apparently, I really do like Amber's character. She taught Wilson a lot, especially about himself.
Enjoy, and as always, I appreciate your thoughtful comments in the forms of reviews. Thanks!
Honestly, the last thing Amber wanted to do was go out just when it was getting late for the sole purpose of playing babysitter for a half-drunk Greg House. It would happen that way, of course; it was one of the unpleasant side effects of dating James Wilson. If you were going to start going out with Wilson, you ultimately had to deal with the ass of an addict that was his best friend. Not that Amber hadn't already marked her territory, though. She was pretty sure she had been clear when she told House that he could no longer have Wilson all to himself.
Still, House seemed to take that as meaning that he could continue being dependent on Wilson - just on a less frequent basis. Typical narcissistic attitude. Amber sometimes had the uneasy feeling that her boyfriend was getting frustrated with the constant rivalry, but whenever she brought it up, he merely shrugged and remarked that he was going to stay on the sidelines and let them battle it out. Now, that was a typical Wilson attitude. She really loved him, but he seriously needed to learn how to stand up to the people he cared about.
The waterbed incident had helped, admittedly. Amber smiled at the recollection as she replaced the phone in its holder on the kitchen counter. Remembering Wilson's face at the time was enough to put her in a slightly better humor, and in the next five seconds she resigned herself to putting up with one bus ride next to a tipsy House. Hopefully he wouldn't be too drunk - he had at least been coherent during the phone conversation - and in any case, Wilson wouldn't be happy if she just left House to fend for himself. He was liable to get into trouble.
So, really, she was doing it for Wilson. That was something of a consolation.
Knowing she should probably get to the bar as quickly as possible - before House could have another couple of drinks, for example - Amber grabbed an opened envelope from the counter and pen from one of the kitchen drawers and quickly scribbled a note for Wilson. Sorry I'm not here. Went to pick up House. Love, A.
Amber slipped the note halfway under her pillow in the bedroom. Hopefully Wilson would find it without freaking out too much about where she was.
A minute later, Amber was pulling on her coat, quickly throwing a scarf around her neck, and grabbing her purse. Time to rescue Dr. Drunken Diagnostics. He was probably going to be difficult about it, too...
I have to - tie this around you.
I'm cold -
Stay with me - just stay with me...
She was taking long, dizzying breaths. Dazedly, she watched as House drew the scarf from her neck and looped it around her thigh, pulling it tight. She was confused. She couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything, except the cold; it was all around her, inside her, numbing…
The only warmth was when House's hand brushed against her shoulder. As shadows began to blur in front of her eyes, she reminded herself she would have to tell Wilson… House wasn't such a bastard all the time… he had saved her…
Wilson hugged the envelope to him in the darkened room as he cried. He had nothing left. She was gone. Despite everything they had done... Even House hadn't been able to save her.
