A whole week after he first woke up and House still hadn't uttered a word. At first the others had suspected brain damage and Cuddy had been worried that House might never be the same again, but after suggesting some tests to find out the extent of the damage she realised just how wrong she was when House snapped at her.

It wasn't that the maverick doctor couldn't talk; it was just that he didn't want to. Somehow that was more worrying than brain damage. It was like House had finally given up.

House didn't really want to think about anything or talk to anyone until he'd seen Wilson again. He knew that the Oncologist hadn't been in to work since Amber died and House also knew Cuddy had kept his friend regularly updated with his own status. Since Wilson hadn't returned to the hospital House had to assume that he was hated.

You can't always get what you want.

That was the other reason he didn't want to talk to anybody. He'd been lying when he'd snapped at Cuddy and told her he was fine. He wasn't. Either that or he'd have to start believing in the afterlife and that was never going to happen.

From the moment he'd woken up Amber had been sat in the chair across the room. She hadn't said anything, just sat there smiling at him when he could no longer avoid her gaze. House had decided that it was probably the stress of being in a bus crash and having a heart attack and seizure all in less than forty eight hours that was resulting in his guild manifesting in a physical form.

The worst part was House knew he deserved everything he got. He should've died in that bus crash. He should've remembered earlier what was killing Amber. He should've been able to save the one thing his best friend loved.

He also knew that there was no point moping and feeling sorry for himself, so he had refused to face up to it, ignoring Amber as much as possible. He certainly wasn't going to mention to anyone else that she was sat there.

By the time Tuesday rolled around again though, House was getting annoyed. Just how long did he have to put up with this?

"Will you go away?" He snapped finally. It was a bad idea talking to a hallucination, especially if Cuddy got hold of the CCTV footage, but he needed answers. Even if he was technically getting them from himself.

"No," Amber shook her head, still smiling softly.

"What do you want?" House asked.

"Nothing," Amber watched him closely. "I'm just here as a reminder."

"I don't need reminder that it's my fault you're dead," House sighed, lying back on the bed. His head was killing him.

"That's not what I'm a reminder for," Amber replied.

House frowned and looked at her again.

"Then what are you supposed to be reminding me?"

"You resented me for dating James," Amber continued.

"I didn't... I was... I was glad he was happy," House shrugged. He'd been uncomfortable when he thought this was about him killing her, but talking about his feelings towards Amber and Wilson's relationship was not something he wanted to talk about. Especially with himself.

"I know," Amber crossed her legs. "But you still resented the fact that for once, he had someone else."

"Fine, I... I was jealous," House rolled his eyes. "Happy now?"

"Why were you jealous? You knew I'd never stop you seeing him," Amber looked at him almost sadly now. "I know we had that deal, but that was just in the heat of the moment."

"You don't know what it's like to have to let someone go," House clutched the bed sheets in pain. He felt like his head was going to explode. Again.

"Yes I do," Amber shook her head. "Come on. What's the real reason?"

"I didn't resent you for taking him away," House said quietly, eyes closed. "I resented you for being more important. I hated the way he looked at you. You meant so much more to him than I ever will. He loved you more than he'll ever love me."

"He loves you-"

"Not in the same way," House growled out through gritted teeth. "And I hated myself for not being able to save you. If I couldn't have him all to myself then I at least wanted him to be happy and you did that. You made him happier than I've seen him in years and I killed you. What kind of friend does that make me?"

"You tried-"

"Not good enough," House sighed, rubbing his head with his hands. "It's never good enough. I messed up his marriages and I murdered you. I don't want him to hate me, but it's no more than I deserve. I was a crappy friend and a crappy doctor. Why couldn't I save you?"

"You can't always get what you want," Amber said, repeating her words from the bus.

"I wanted it for him," House opened his eyes and found his vision blurred. "Even when I didn't remember it was you dying, I knew I had to save you. I almost killed myself for you... for him. But it wasn't enough."

"That's it," Amber stood up and stalked over, arms folded, frowning at him. "Stop it right now."

"What?" House looked at her confused.

"This self-pitying thing. It doesn't become you and it's stupid," Amber said firmly.

"Oh great, even my own subconscious is pissed at me," House sighed.

"James is still your friend even if he hates you," Amber leant right over House. "He is not going to throw away twelve years of friendship just because you dragged me to that bar and ended up inadvertently killing me. He will, however, start to consider throwing it away if all you do is sit here feeling sorry for yourself. So get your sorry ass out of bed and go and find him."

"He's not here," House protested. "And I'm never going to make it out the hospital."

"He's in his office," Amber said, relenting a little. "Go to him."

"Why are you doing this?" House began to climb out of bed.

"Because..." Amber faltered, looking down. "James needs someone. It might not seem like it now. But he needs you."

House limped to the doorway, dragging his IV with him. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at Amber. She smiled sadly and House nodded ever so slightly.

"Bye House," she said quietly.

"Bye Amber," House replied, using her name for once.

It was only when he was halfway up to Wilson's office that he realised just how mad it was to follow a hallucinations instructions. Still, he'd got this far, if Wilson wasn't in, he could nip into his own office and claim he was looking for his game boy.

House hesitated in front of Wilson's office door before knocking quietly. There was no answer. House opened the door carefully and saw Wilson leaning his forehead against the window, looking out onto the balcony, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. It was raining outside and the distant rumble of thunder was just audible.

House shut the door behind him with a soft click. He pulled the IV across the room and stood next to Wilson. He was a little wary being this close to fists that could so easily reach him, but then he thought back over all the years he'd known Wilson and realised that his friend, no matter how angry, had never raised a hand to him.

"I'm sorry," House began, knowing there was nothing he could say to make things better and that sorry was probably the last thing he needed to hear. But it was the first thing House had to say.

"You never even liked her," Wilson whispered, sounding very hollow to House's ears.

"I did," House replied quietly. "I just didn't like the fact that you loved her more than me."

Wilson glanced briefly away from the rain to shoot House a dark look. House looked down. This was going to be tough. At least Wilson was talking to him.

"I just..." House faltered. "I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to. I just wanted you to know I'm here... if you ever feel like venting."

"Thanks," Wilson didn't sound like he meant it.

House sighed and turned, limping slowly back towards the door and opening it carefully. His head was hurting again.

"Don't..." He hesitated not sure now was the time to tell Wilson this. "Don't let this put you off. Amber was good for you."

Wilson didn't look away from the window, but House saw the look of hurt pass over his friend's face. House wished there was something he could do to make things better.

"I know you hate me, but if there's any chance we could still be friends... or if there's anything I could do to make you happy..." House sighed again. He should really get out of the hole while he still could.

He made to leave when a voice behind him said the best four words he'd ever heard in his life. Of all the things to come from Wilson's mouth, that was probably the best thing. He'd expected abuse, he'd expected the silent treatment, but he hadn't expected those four words.

"I don't hate you."