This is based off thr movie It's a Wonderful Life. If you know the story, you kind of know how it goes, if not, well that's fine too. This fic is going to be a little different than the original though, but there are going to be a lot of similar things. So, sit back and read a nice Christmas House fic :)

Disclaimer: I don't own House (owned by David Shore, NBC, Fox, blah blah blah), nor It's a Wonderful Life, which is by Frank Capra.

It's a Wonderful Life, House

House stood on the roof of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, overlooking the vast city's appearance at night. It was really late, House guessed that it must be close to midnight, and the lights of the city were twinkling and shining brightly in the darkness of the night.

It was December twenty-fourth, Christmas Eve. House was up on the roof alone, like he usually was when he went on the roof. He hadn't been up here in a long time. He normally did when he had thoughts that he had to sort through, of if he wanted to get away from everything and everyone else.

Tonight, House was thinking of something different. He didn't have this thought when he pushed the button of the elevator to ride to the roof, but as he stood there shivering in the bitter winter wind and thinking, it had snuck up on him unexpectedly.

House peered over the edge of the building. The hospital was what, six stories tall? It would surely be a long drop, but it would be guaranteed, however quite gruesome. But didn't it matter; he wouldn't be here after he was dead, so why should he care about how he died? It would be someone else's problem, whether they would witness him falling from the hospital roof or if they found him afterward.

House took a step back and looked up at the stars that dotted the sky. Maybe he should just go home and down a bottle of Vicodin and a glass of whisky. House was reminded of the Christmas Eve two years ago when Wilson had found him lying in his own vomit. Not nearly as dramatic as jumping of the hospital roof.

House wondered was driving him to commit suicide. With all the close encounters to death that he has had – the infarction, being shot, sticking a knife in an electrical socket, the bus crash – you would think that he would value life more. But no, not really. He was just another expendable person in the universe and nothing but a speck of a speck on the great cosmic scale. His life didn't have a value, and he was going to die anyway, so why not now, on this very night? He had experienced enough misery in his life and it wasn't getting any better, so why not spare himself some hardship? And he had certainly caused other people problems too. Tonight was proof. He was all alone; Cuddy was with her new foster baby, his fellows were out doing whatever with family and friends and Wilson had traveled and was spending the holidays with his parents. House was alone, and nobody really noticed. If he was worth more, and if he didn't drive people away by being a miserable bastard, he might be having different thoughts tonight.

He wondered if people would even think that he had jumped off the roof on purpose. He wondered if people would shake their head in pity or laugh, saying that the diagnostician had stumbled onto the roof drunk and accidently fallen off in his drunken stupor.

House shrugged. It didn't matter what others thought. He was doing this for himself. If things were going to end, House wanted to end them himself and not wait for another suffering to end his life for him.

Taking a deep inhale of the freezing air and letting his cane clatter to the floor, House took a step and firmly stood on the extreme edge of the roof. This was it; he was teetering on the brink of his death. All he had to do was let go.

House closed his eyes, ready for the plunge.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

House's eyes snapped open and he looked over his shoulder. There was a man standing a few feet away with an arm outstretched, begging House to stop.

"Go away, and act surprised when there's news of a doctor that went splat on the pavement," House quipped. House turned back to the open city, ready once more to jump.

"No! Just stop! Wait a second!"

With his eyes closed, House muttered, "Do you think that I am going to listen to your suicide prevention mumbo-jumbo?"

"I wish you would," the man retorted.

"You are you anyway?"

"I'll tell you…if you step off that ledge."

"Ah, nice. Bargaining. But it's not going to work. Go talk to some suicidal teenager, they're easier to stop."

"I would, but you see…I was sent here to stop you."

House looked over his shoulder a second time. "What? I didn't tell anybody I was going to do this. I didn't even know until I came up here."

The man pointed upward. "Somebody knew. He's the one that sent me here."

"Oh my God, you've-,"

"That's the one."

House opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then he closed it for lack of something to say. Instead he settled for, "You're insane."

"No…I'm not the one about to jump off of a building."

House turned around fully and crossed his arms. "So what if I don't believe in…" House nodded his head upward. "Do you go away then?"

"No. And you have to admit, you have thought about there being someone, though at times you'd rather think there isn't," the man said, stepping closer to House. "Come away from the edge Greg."

House looked to the man in shock. "How…do you know my name?"

"I told you, He sent me." The man was now standing in the light, so House could get a better look at the man that was trying to coax House away from suicide. It was weathered, but he had a friendly bright face and he was dressed on black slacks and a large tan winter coat. House guessed that he must be nearing his late sixties. The man had kind brown eyes, and messy grey hair that covered his head. House was taller than the man, he towered a good five inches over the man, and the man had broad shoulders that matched the rest of his full frame. House could never remember seeing this man in his life, yet he was calling House by his first name.

"Who…are you again?" House asked.

The man smiled. "Oh, I almost forgot!" The man reached forward and grabbed House's hand and shook it, also pulling House away from the ledge of the roof. "My name's Thomas Albright."

House started at Thomas. "And you're here because…?"

"Haven't I told you a couple of times already? He sent me because you were fixin' to end your life. You see…I'm your guardian angel."

House stared blankly at Thomas. "An angel? Really?"

Thomas nodded. "Second Class actually. I don't have my wings yet. If I help you, I get moved up to First Class, and that's when I get my wings."

House slapped himself in the face. He had to be dreaming. "You're here as a Second Class angel to help me from killing myself. This sounds a lot like It's a Wonderful Life."

Thomas shrugged. "I guess it is very similar. Only this time, it's you that wants to die. Not George Bailey."

House shook his head. This was so unreal.

"I'm…going to go. I think I've had too many Vicodin tonight. Bye Thomas." House patted Thomas on the shoulder and walked back to the ledge.

"You really should kick that narcotic habit!" Thomas yelled at House.

"Bye!"

Thomas looked up at the sky. "I'm sorry. He doesn't really want to listen. You know he's a tough one to handle."

House snickered and wondered who had paid this crazy guy to come up here. Wilson, Cuddy? Well, whoever it was will get a surprise when they find out that he is dead. But…how would they have known that he was going to kill himself...?

A loud clap of thunder roared through the night. House slowly turned around to see Thomas cowering with his hands above his head.

"But he's so stubborn! You said so yourself!"

Another roll of thunder occurred, and Thomas squeaked.

"Okay, okay! I'll try my best. But I'm not promising anything," Thomas said.

A small sound of thunder happened again, which this time Thomas only swatted his hand in the air at.

"Stop fussing. I know what to do." Thomas turned towards House, who was frozen on the spot.

"Do you believe me now?" Thomas asked.

House tilted his head. "Not really. I still think you're kind of a nutcase. But…" House weighed the consequences. He figured that he could see what this "Angel" had to say. Worst case scenario, he was just an escapee from the Psych Ward. "What do you want?"

Thomas grinned, and pulled House away from the ledge once more. House stumbled over his feet, grimacing in pain from his thigh.

"Whoops, sorry!" Thomas said. "My apologies."

"Whatever. So, what are you going to do? Take a stroll with me through my past?" House asked.

Thomas nodded. "We're going to do just that. Now hold on."

House rolled his eyes, wondering what this guy was going to do. But he was surprised when something more than nothing happened.