A/N: I am so sorry for making this fanfiction like a transcript, but like I said, I wanted it to be as much like the season 4 finale as possible. I've let loose on this Chapter, basically in my own words, and a twist. Still, all constructive critism is apprectiated. Thanks for reviewing and please keep doing so.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HOUSE, M.D., AND/OR ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH IT. I ALSO DO NOT OWN "PASSING AFTERNOON" BY IRON AND WINE. Please don't sue me.

James Wilson was exausted. Cuddy said he should go to his office and get some rest, and we he protested, Cuddy deliebratley sent him off. Wilson slumped in his chair and turned on the radio. A song had just started playing, and dangit, if it didn't fit this sad mood perfectly.

There are times that walk from you

Like some passing afternoon

Wilson looked up from where he had suddenly taken a keen interest on the wood of his desk, finding House sitting on the couch, twirling his cane in his hands.

Summer warmed the open window

of her Honeymoon

Wilson was lost. He knew he was hallucinating him, but he wanted this to be real.

"Why so sad?" the deliusion of House asked him.

There are things that drift away

Like our endless numbered days

"Why so sad...." Wilson repeated, chuckling with no humor. "You should know, you're obviously in my subconsious."

"No i'm not," hallucination House argued, smiling warmly.

Wilson let the tears fall again. That smile.

Autumn blew the quilt right off

the perfect bed she made

"Yes," Wilson stopped to sob, "you're a hallucination. You're not really here."

"You don't know that," House said gently. "You want to come hug me, to prove it?"

Sunday pulls its children right off their

piles of fallen leaves

Wilson knew it would be pretty stupid to do so. But he was now aching for House to be okay, wanted him to say something rude, because that would just be music to his ears.

There are sailing ships that pass

All our bodies in the grass

Wilson slowly got up, as if to make sure this delusional House wouldn't go away. He didn't. He remained on Wilson's couch, smiling warmly toward him. Wilson stood in front of the couch, and House got up, wrapping him in an embrace.

"See? I am here."

Springtime calls her children 'till she

lets them go at last

Wilson gave into his hallucination, and hugged him fiercely. "Oh my god, House..." was all he could say.

There are things we can't recall

Blind as night that finds us all

He closed his eyes, the exaustion of this tragedy taking over him. When he reopened his eyes, he found himself hugging thin air.

There are names across the sea,

only now do I believe

Wilson started sobbing hard as the song passed a few more verses, then signaled the end with an instrumental.

He feel asleep on the couch.

Foreman and Taub eyed the rash. "It's a rash, could be rocky mountain fever," Foreman concluded.

"I'll run tests," Taub said, running off with a sample of the fluid inside the rash.

Amber sat down beside House, looking at him with narrowed eyes. She was almost afraid he was going to wake up again.

"Do you think Wilson is mad at you?" Foreman suddenly asked.

"How could you ask that?" Amber asked, shocked.

Foreman sighed. "You almost killed his best friend. In fact, we don't even know if he's going to live. He was on the bus because of you," he concluded.

Amber actually felt a sudden pang of guilt. It was mostly her falt House got on the bus with her, and Wilson would never forgive her if he died. It explained why Wilson has spent so little time around her lately.

"I'm gonna go talk to Wilson," she said, sighing. Foreman nodded. House's EEG suddenly spiked again.

"You may not have killed him afterall," Foreman said.

Amber opened the door to Wilson's office, only to find him knocked out on the couch. She sat down on the little space Wilson had managed not to take up.

He had been crying before he drifted off to sleep, obviously, and Amber ran a hand through his soft hair. "I'm sorry, Wilson...." she whispered.

A tear escaped her eye. "I'm sorry, House....."

All this time, Amber was trying to be like House. Wanted to diagnose him for a change, be the top dog in this situation.

She couldn't do this anymore.

Her head was hurting her, guilt was starting to get the best of her, and to top it all off, Wilson was probably mad at her.

He'd never forgive her if House died.

She tried remembering the accident, hard, at least any clue that would lead to a cure for House......

"Yeah, I guess i'm an idiot for that."

"So, you doing this for me or for-" Amber stopped mid-sentence.

She looked around, finding a crowd of people talking in bus seats. House was across from her, looking at her confusingly.

She was repeating the crash.

"Something wrong, CTB?" House asked.

"Oh, nothing," Amber deadpanned, staring at him. Was her brain trying to tell her something?

House sneezed. Amber perked up. "Do you have a tissue?" he asked.

"Have a cold?" Amber asked.

"No, I think i'm getting that nasty flu," he said, with his hand still over his nose. Amber looked through her purse and gave House a tissue.

After wiping his nose, House got a pill bottle out of his pocket. Amber rolled her eyes at the use of Vicodin. But when she got a closer look, it wasn't a Vicodin bottle.

Flu pills.

Amber suddenly worked out all the symptoms in her head. 'With the flu pills in his system, the trauma damaging the kidneys,"

"Poisoning."

"What?" House asked.

"Oh, nothing," Amber dismissed.

Amber did it. She diagnosed House. The familiar bright light of the garbage truck jerked her back awake.

She found herself on top of Wilson, who was still sleeping. She gave him a kiss on the forehead, and rushed off to House's ICU room.

"Test was negative," Taub said apon seeing Amber enter the room.

"I've diagnosed House."

Foreman and Taub looked at her expectingly.

"House took flu pills. It explains everything. The tachycardia, the rash, his kidneys failing..." Amber stopped to take a breather. "All we have to do is start him on dialysis and flush the drugs out."

Foreman and Taub stared at her in amazement.

"You figured all this out?"

"My brain is getting better."

"You told Wilson?"

"No. I will."

And with that, Amber left.

When Amber returned to Wilson's office, he was trying to do some paperwork.

She smiled triumphantly as she announced, "I've diagnosed House. He's going to live."