Sorry. I've been....distracted.... Read on!

Chapter 1

Wilson had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but the sounds of morning drifted through the room and he cracked an eye open. The haze of sleep that clouded his vision made it almost impossible to see who was moving around the room. He raised one hand to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"It's about time you got up. I was wondering whether you were planning on sleeping all day." Wilson froze. It was impossible. Wasn't it? Blinking, he wondered where that thought had come from. Was it really that impossible for Amber to be up and moving around before him?

"What time is it?" he asked, not quite wanting to sit up. He had the strangest feeling that work had been much too stressful for him the past few days; all he wanted to do was sleep.

"Almost eight," Amber replied, making her way over to Wilson's side of the bed and looking down at him. He met her eyes, immediately noting the concern in them. "You don't look so good." She brought one hand to his head, drawing back after a moment. "You're burning up."

"I…" Wilson started, but he had no idea what he wanted to say. "I must have caught something somewhere." He pushed himself up to a sitting position, but Amber pushed him back down.

"You're calling in sick." She picked up the phone and handed it to him. Seeing no point in arguing, Wilson dialed Cuddy's cell number and waited for her to pick up. When the phone was picked up, it wasn't Cuddy's voice on the other end.

"Good morning, James." The voice was strange, and Wilson had the oddest feeling he'd heard it before. "I trust you slept well?"

Glancing quickly at Amber, Wilson figured he shouldn't give her anything to worry about, so he acted as if it was Cuddy on the other end.

"I'm not feeling so well. I don't think I'll be coming in today."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Sounds like you'll have to be home all day."

"Yeah," he answered. "I should be feeling well enough to work tomorrow." Carefully, he did not look back up at Amber, though he knew she was watching him.

"I have instructions for you," the voice had switched abruptly to demanding and business-like, whereas it had been soft and friendly sounding before. Without waiting for Wilson to answer, it continued: "Any call that comes in at all today or tonight, you are to answer. You. Not Amber. You."

"I understand," Wilson said before hanging up and holding out the phone for Amber. "I've got the rest of the day off, and tomorrow if I need it," he told her. Since it looked like she was almost ready to leave for work, Wilson decided he would call Cuddy's office again after Amber had left to let her know.

"All right. Get plenty of rest, drink some tea." Amber looked down at Wilson, watched him nod. "I'll be home at the usual time, unless something comes up." Wilson nodded again and turned onto his side to try to get some more sleep. He wasn't really surprised that she was going to work even though he was sick. Amber couldn't afford to take time off just because her boyfriend wasn't feeling well.

He waited for a few moments after she left the room to make sure she had gone before rolling back over and picking up the phone. Dialing Cuddy's number again, he was relieved to hear her voice on the other end.

"Cuddy, it's Wilson. I don't think I'll be able to make it into work today."

"Something wrong?" Cuddy asked, the concern in her voice evident.

"Nothing horrible. I'm just feeling a little sick. I'm probably well enough to work, but I don't want to risk exposing my patients to whatever I might have," he explained. He listened to Cuddy's hum of acknowledgement.

"Stay home until you're feeling better. We don't want the whole hospital getting sick."

"Thanks, Cuddy." Wilson waited for a moment, and when it didn't seem like his boss was going to answer, he hung up and set the phone back down. He lay on his back for a few moments, willing sleep to come. When it didn't, he pushed himself out of bed. As long as he relaxed, it counted as rest right? He didn't necessarily have to sleep, did he? As he walked out of the bedroom, he stopped. His breath caught in his throat and he leaned against the doorframe.

Realization dawned, and he had to force himself to keep breathing.

This was the morning of the accident, but it was different. Amber hadn't seemed sick, though he remembered her having the flu. The medication had poisoned her. He remembered House telling him the final diagnosis, remembered the utter look of sympathy on his best friend's face as he told Wilson that Amber was going to die.

It seemed like their positions had been reversed: Wilson was the sick one and Amber was in perfect health. Wilson would be the one at home to answer House's drunken phone call. He'd be the one leaving a note for Amber. He'd be the one going to the bar to pick up his friend later that night.

And then what?

Get on a bus fated to crash and kill half a dozen people and put House in a coma?

Wilson shook his head. He was either going to drive to the bar, or he was going to call a cab. But that would be tonight. Hours from now. But knowing that his best friend was going to get drunk and need a ride home that night made it difficult for Wilson to relax. It also raised another question.

Was he the only one who knew that time was repeating? Amber hadn't acted like she was reliving a day. And since he wasn't going to work, he couldn't watch everyone else to know if they were aware of the backwards time jump. Shaking his head, he made his way to a chair and fell back into it.

He couldn't act like he knew what was fated to happen. He couldn't. It would seem weird. And if he was going to be the one picking House up that night, he definitely did not want to be acting weird.

Well. This was certainly going to be interesting.

Hope it won't take so long to get the next chapter out, but I can't make any promises.