Disclaimer: Not mine. I like twisting things. Sorry it took so long. This is unedited.

I wrote this in a review reply, and decided to add it to this for clarification anyways: The reason Amber is gone is because she, or some subconscious part of House's mind, concluded that he would finally get the help he needed. First, when Amber died, House was wracked with guilt that didn't apply to him, due to Wilson's reaction and what not, and he was already on edge. However, when Kutner died, purely within himself, he blamed himself for the death, not seeing it come, and what not. Amber is the part of House that doesn't always want to be right, wants to relax, wants to be okay with being wrong once in a while. It's why she kept sending switched messages throughout the last couple episodes where House tried to diagnose and kept coming up wrong. When he used his rational mind, he was fine, but Amber was the part of him that wanted to lay back and just let go, the part that wanted to get help - To feel better. House consciously couldn't care less if he was feeling better or not, but subconsciously longed for a real life, with the final hallucination with Cuddy and what not. When he freaked out and the recollection of memories occurred, House subconsciously and consciously freaked out. But finally the conscious part of his mind concluded that he needed help, and that now, he just might get it. Once Amber made sure that occurred, she was unnecessary. The more House came to terms with the fact that he was a little screwed up, the more she started to disappear. Now that the final bomb has dropped, (sexual abuse along with physical abuse, the sexual abuse having been repressed), House is out of control of his mental state of mind. Although Amber is now gone, this is where the 'fun', starts. Started. You'll see what happens in the flashbacks, as the psychiatrists don't notice this completely and focus on something unhelpful altogether.

Hello, Remember. I'm Real, Real, Real. (JoJ)

---

"House, you're bleeding." Wilson somewhat whispered, still standing over him. His expression was utterly unreadable. There was shock in his eyes at House's overreaction.

House's thoughts were racing. He was shaking.

"Please, go." House found his raspy voice, and heard it as it met with his ears. However, he didn't recognize it at all.

Wilson, on the other hand, stared. He crouched and tilted his head to a side, his eyes meeting directly with House's own, so that they were both at the same level.

"You said please, House."

Does he really have to bring up what an impolite jackass you were?

"I also said go after that. Apparently saying 'please' doesn't work all that well." House found himself replying dryly, trying to hint at his old self. Maybe that would make Wilson go away.

"House, it's me." Wilson mumbled, looking into his eyes.

House blinked. Then something clicked.

Fuck.

---

"Amber's gone. I should get discharged soon." House stated to his shrink, although knowing he was in no state to leave. He'd yet to sleep since she'd left.

Nightmares that all too well haunted him when he was a child lingered in his thoughts while he was awake now. If he were to sleep…

Sleeping in the basement beside the furnace, how the heat had scorched his body, how when he went upstairs in the morning with boils and red skin his mother had freaked out. Then the complete opposite- Ice baths, the cold…so cold that it burned… The nights he spent out on the porch…And then-

Then the nights he was good. The nights in his bedroom.

The caresses. The soft coaxing words. The…the breathing…the-the pain…the..

"…Gregory, are you even listening to me?" House snapped his head up as these words met his ears. All of a sudden, he was aware of how shallow his breathing had gotten. "Something wrong?" Furrowed eyebrows on the other person.

House shook his head and licked his dry lips.

"Sorry. Was thinking. It's what I'm supposed to do here, right? Mull over my pathetic life?" Why so defensive?

The shrink said nothing for a moment.

House sighed.

"Well, to repeat – We have concluded that you may have hallucinated more than just Amber and that night you thought you spent with your boss."

---

"Really? Is it really you?" A frown on House's face as he tilted his head to a side. Wilson just stared. It sounded as if his voice was trembling, and his words were filled with something like pain. Wilson saw hope as well as something else in those blue eyes.

And then House was up again. Startled at the sudden movement, Wilson almost fell back. He got up in front of House and was only pushed roughly aside, stumbling back. Wilson watched as House went straight to the phone. There was a notebook beside it where he started to feverishly turn the pages.

"House..?" Wilson, now timid as well as puzzled, walked up behind House. When he saw the number House was dialing –

Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital

-Something snapped in his head.

Wilson panicked, and grabbed the phone from Houses's grip. Without thinking, he flung it at the opposite wall. It made a loud crash and Wilson flinched as it broke, and then fell to the ground with some clattering noise.

House stood there, with an odd look on his face.

Wilson realized he was breathing really heavily. Afraid to touch House, due to the reaction he'd gotten earlier, he took another step closer to his best friend.

"House, look at me." God damn, why was his voice shaking now?

House continued to stare where the phone had, to eloquently put it, died.

Then, the last word he expected to hear from House at that moment fell form his lips-

"Cool.

---

"No. Wilson's my friend. I'm HIS friend. I didn't force him to be-We met at a bar, he threw stuff-Jail-He's my FRIEND." House couldn't believe he was yelling, what had happened to his composure!?He was shaking too, and the shrink was eyeing him with slight interest.

"We asked him what he knew about your childhood. He said nothing. House, if he was your friend, he would know something. You wanted him for company, for clarification you don't always have to be alone. You wanted someone to care without the intimacy-"

"No." House whispered, cutting into the shrink's explanation. The both of them fell into silence.

"House, from the things you told us, Wilson was in many different relationships and marriages, yet always made time for you. You, who, took money from him at any occasion, annoyed him to no end-"

"That's what friends do. He's my friend."

"He worked next to you. He put up with you. You made it out to be far more than it really was."

"No-He came to my house and-"

"House. Hallucinations aren't always a one time thing." He cleared his throat. "This makes the most sense. We asked some employees and they too admitted that the friendship you two had was very one sided, even though he was always very nice to you. Hasn't he ever done anything that made you doubt the friendship, the fact that he truly cared?"

"No, he-"

House heard something in his ears, something like sugar shaking. He started to shake his head, and then stopped.

Amber.

"House?"

"He once asked me to risk my life to save a girlfriend. But-But wouldn't anyone do the sa-"

"The girlfriend he later told you that you killed."

"I-"

"The girlfriend that you later hallucinated about?"

"I.."

"There's a connection."

House's legs (or leg) gave away, and he crashed to his knees. He fell on his palms, so that he was on all fours. The shrink called for a nurse, it sounded very far away, and then shoes rushed to him.

"Greg-" There was a hand on his back, but House flinched away.

"I'm fine." mumbled House, before collapsing onto the floor, his mental exhaustion catching up to him.

---

"Well, if that's how you're going to play, I guess it's fine. I could probably deal with this. I did for a while, didn't I? I mean, this is my house. My place. You're right here, I'm not bothering you." House limped over to the coffee table and picked up the bottle of scotch. He looked absently in the direction of the kitchen, probably for a glass, and then shrugged, and put the bottle to his lips, drinking it down.

Wilson started towards him, reaching out for the bottle, who House swiped away, sticking his tongue out at him.

Confused at the sudden change in personality, Wilson let both of his arms fall to his side.

"House?" Wilson opened his mouth and then closed it. He thought over what he was going to say. "What are you talking about?"

House looked over his shoulder at Wilson, and sighed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No…I don't…" Wilson slowly replied, frowning. House looked at him, almost calculatingly. Then he shrugged, and took another swig of the bottle. "Stop drinking!" Wilson heard himself yell, and before he knew it, the bottle of scotch was in his hand.

House looked at the bottle, and then up at Wilson. "Seriously?"

Wilson searched House's face for some sort of answer to his actions. "What?"

House, however, ignored him. "Well, that must mean I really don't." He looked back up at Wilson. "I've made you go plenty of times before though. Just have to exasperate you enough. Right? Or maybe I should act normal.." House mused, now absently looking at Wilson.

Wilson stared. What the hell was he talking about?

House looked down at the floor for a moment while Wilson just stared at him.

"House..?"

"You leave whenever I need you. That's what happened last time. Every time. Whenever I really need you, or admit to needing you, you just leave." House stated, looking back up into brown eyes that widened slightly.

"I-"

House shook his head, half smirking. "Don't bother; I know you're only acting the way I want you to."

Wilson took a step closer to House, frowning and worried for his sanity.

"House, I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Wilson said, slowly. House shrugged and looked down at his hands, where the bottle of alcohol was.

"Of course you don't, I don't want you to. Means you might go away again." House mumbled, and looked back up at Wilson, now a broken look in his eyes. Then he sighed, and the look disappeared, leaving Wilson to wonder if it'd ever been there in the first place.

If I don't turn out perfect, will you be a friend of mine?

---

"House, are you alright?"

Wilson had disappeared. Along with Amber. Once the realization sunk in. They were all right.

"House, we have to talk about your nightmares."

House found himself shudder. When he'd collapsed at the realization, images and memories that were long time gone appeared before his eyes. When he woke up, he'd felt all slurry and when he asked what happened, they told him he'd thrown a panic attack, and they'd had to sedate him.

---

"House…" Wilson didn't really know what to say, but let his voice trail off anyway.

"I need you. I need you so much." House finally stated, looking up into his eyes. At first Wilson's breath knocked itself out of him. Then he caught the assessing and calculating gaze House held. He was…tricking him?

"I'm not going to leave you now." Wilson said, breathlessly. House snorted.

"Of course not. You're going to be here as logn as I want you to, or as realistically as possible." House stated, sighing. Wilson couldn't tear his eyes away from House, who now looked absently down at his leg.

And then, without warning, Wilson felt a fist smash into his jaw, throwing him back. He hit the floor hard, and felt hot liquid start to pour from his mouth, along with unbelievable pain.

"Cool." House said, before turning back to his couch and sitting down.