Hi everyone! It's been forever, I'm sorry - AP exams want to kill me I swear! This is a really short chapter, but the next (last) two will be JAMPACKED with action. I hope you guys have liked this so far!

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So as always, read, review, and enjoy!

It was peaceful – quiet. He had stopped fighting and let it engulf him, the darkness licking over every limb. There was no pain, no anger, no nothing. He would choose this over reality any day.

"You… are a jerk." House winced, the harsh feminine voice all too familiar to him.

"And you… are a bitch," House countered as the haze cleared and he met the eyes of a very familiar blonde. Amber smirked, flipping her hair and crossing her legs, leaning back into one of the desks in the teaching room.

"So I've been told…" She said with a shrug.

"You know, it was quiet until you came along."

"You'd choose this over people – over your job, over your family, over Wilson? Over Cuddy?" House groaned, placing his head in his hands, trying desperately to get her out of his head.

"You can't just wish me away – your subconscious called me here – I'm here for a reason – not by choice, obviously."

"Well then do what you have to do and get it done – sexual intentions aside, unless that's your idea," House remarked, waggling his eyebrows. Amber shot him a look and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Wilson… has been the best thing that's ever happened to me – sort of a rock in this crazy thing we like to call life. It's nice – comforting." Amber began, taking in a deep breath, House rolling his eyes at the beginning of her sermon. "Sure, we have our fights and sometimes I'm such a bitch that he can't deal with me –,"

"I couldn't imagine that," House said sarcastically and Amber shot him a fierce look for interrupting her.

"And sometimes, he's so sickeningly generous and ends up wanting to give his credit card every homeless person. But that's who I fell in love with and vice versa. Sometimes… those annoying facets of a person are what you fall hardest for. For instance," Amber continued, sliding out of the desk, and began pacing across the room, her black heels annoying snapping against the floor. "She's bossy, irritating, and sometimes a colossal pain in the ass." She didn't use the name, but he knew – it was all these damn hallucinations ever talked about. "But she's beautiful, brilliant, and as infuriating and exasperating as she finds you, she has feelings for you too – has had them since… I don't know, college?" House scoffed, his mind immediately rejecting the idea – she was too good for him; he didn't deserve someone like her – not in a million years.

"You don't know that," he simply said, not believing what she was saying.

"Well, considering Cuddy is best friends with Wilson, and I'm dating Wilson…, I have a pretty good chance." House shook his head, trying his best to ignore her.

"Look. All I'm saying is that she likes you, you like her… what's there to lose?"

As his senses started to return after another blinding flash of light, his nose wrinkled, as he smelled the extremely familiar scent of tuna sandwiches, strong coffee, and Wilson's cologne. The couch was comfortable and he sunk into it comfortably, clutching the pillow.

"House." His eyes snapped open, meeting Wilson's warm, comforting brown eyes.

"Go away," House groaned, pulling the pillow over his head.

"You can't hide forever from the world – You have to face the music someday

"No I don't," House countered stubbornly and Wilson gave him a look. House sighed, openly admitting defeat as he swiveled his body into an upright position.

"I'm not going to tell you that you and Cuddy should date or that you and Cuddy should get married and have little dark haired, blue eyed, Vicodin addicted doctors running around, – you've heard it all before, I'm sure. But when was the last time you ever felt like this? Stacey, I'm sure. Just…," Wilson took a deep breath and folded his hands. "Just because it ended badly doesn't mean that everything will – not everyone leaves, and not everyone is like Stacey – Cuddy especially. If you didn't see that… or don't see that even now, then… I can't help you. No one can." The truth resounded heavily in Wilson's words.

House paused for a moment listening long and hard to what he was saying. The words that he had heard so many times before in this dream, nightmare, whatever this thing was, had always sounded harsh, judgmental. Wilson, however, had this manner of saying things that made you want to listen to him, want to do whatever he was asking. Despite his normally guarded personality, House always listened to Wilson, for better or for worse, everything ending up usually for the better.

The light flashed again and after his eyes adjusted to the new scenery, the bleak light of reality was absent – instead remained this beautiful bright light. House stretched out his arms, his path suddenly blocked by a metal bar. He blinked a few times, and saw the plastic seats all around him, the windows, and the handrails. It was as if the crash had never happened – everything was fully intact. He looked out the window but he couldn't make out anything besides blinding white light. House turned to the other side of him, noticing there was a occupant in the seat across the aisle.

"Hi…"