Negotiations

By Lomeinie

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Season 4 finale "Wilson's Heart" but not beyond that

Pairing(s): House/Wilson FS, Wilson/Amber, Wilson/Cuddy FS, House/Cuddy

Summary: The last thing he thought before then was I don't need House like I need her, so let them trade places.

A/N: Written for LJ comm darkwilson's prompt table #56, negotiate. Also a special thank you to everyone who left comments for my first House fic, Happiness. You all helped me to build up the further confidence to write this story!

Beta: Dreamsofspike -- Thanks, hon! ((hugs))

Words: 1178

Disclaimers: I still don't own House because as I've stated before it belongs to Fox and David Shore. I've made nothing off this so do not sue me!

0o0

Wilson laid his weary body down on a bed that was way too big for one person. He stretched out his arms, wishing again that she was lying there besides him and not lying cold dead in the hospital's morgue. He wanted to feel her arms wrapped around him instead of lying here with his arms enfolding the note she's left for him.

God, he half thought half prayed, I don't know what to do without her here. He had the thought of offering to trade places with her, let him have been the one who answered House's call but stopped short. If somehow God was there and did answered that prayer, then he'd still be without her.

He wanted her back so badly his body ached with physical pain and the tears didn't stop until he had fallen into a fretful slumber. The last thing he thought before then was I don't need House like I need her, so let them trade places.

Hours later, a bleary eyed Wilson woke to the sound of shower water running in the bathroom, and he thought his mind was playing a cruel joke on him. He looked at the clock and knew usually by now he was up, dressed for work, and had fixed breakfast for them both. But today was different because there'd be no work because there was no Amber. Not anymore and Cuddy had put him on immediate bereavement leave the moment they knew Amber couldn't be saved.

So he rolled over in the bed, grabbing her pillow, and holding it close to his nose he snuggled back under the blankets as the shower water finally stopped. He was drifting towards sleep again when the bathroom door opened and out came a towel wrapped Amber. She stopped when she saw a boyfriend shaped lump buried in the middle of the bed. She secured the towel around herself before walking over to the bed/

She poked the lump, "James?" She got no response from him so she snatched back the blankets to look down on a very confused Wilson.

Wilson blinked up at her and rubbed his eyes, not believing she was standing there. "Amber?"

She smiled at him, "Yeah, who else? Don't tell me you were expecting House!"

"Amber?" Wilson repeated, dumbfounded at the cruelty of this delusion.

Amber sat down beside him on the bed, her smile fading as she placed her hand on his forehead, "Well you don't feel like you've got a fever so I guess you House kept you out pretty late." She waited for a response from him and lightly hit his arm when she didn't get one. "James, you really shouldn't let him do you that way because lack of sleep has made you loop this morning."

It finally started to dawn on Wilson that she was here, he wasn't dreaming. A goofy, mischievous grin crossed his face when he said, "Yeah, I'm not going to let House do that to me again." He pulled her down closer to him so he could kiss her, which lasted several minutes.

"I missed you," he said when they finally broke for breathe.

Amber started to pull away and out of bed, "I missed you too. But if we both don't get going-"

Wilson would not let go of her hand but instead pulled her back down beside him, "We'll both be a little late this morning. So what." He started kissing her again but Amber quickly pulled away.

"James-"

A desperate flooded his eyes, and his voice pleading as he said, "Please, stay awhile. I want. . . I need to make love to you right now." Amber searched his eyes for a long moment uncertain what had caused such a look of fear in his eyes before she gave into wanting to drive whatever it was far from his mind.

They didn't get far however before the phone started ringing. They both chose to ignore long enough to let the machine answer, and Cuddy's distraught voice could be heard on the other end, "Wilson, if you're home still, pick up." They continued with what they were doing, still not quite hearing her. A sigh could be heard on the machine followed by, "James, House is. . . dead."

Wilson bolted upright in bed, and made a dive for the phone on the night stand but by the time he had picked up the set there was nothing but a dial tone. Anticipating Cuddy would call his cell phone next he picked that up, and took it with him as he got up in search of clothes. Those three little awful words was all it had taken for him to forget the urgency he had felt to be with Amber.

House is dead.

His cell phone finally rang after what seemed an eternity, and he answered with a numb, "What happened?" He heard the tears in Cuddy's voice as she explained that apparently they had had a lot of rain the previous night before, and House being House had decided to take his bike into work instead of taking the bus or a cab. A car had wound up hydroplaning so badly that the driver hadn't been able to recover in time to avoid hitting House head on. He had flown feet in the air before hitting a telephone pole, the force of the impact so great his helmet had done him a bit of good in the end. He had died on route from the scene to the hospital.

"I'll be right in. Give me about fifteen minutes," Wilson had said after she had finished the recount. She was so quiet on the phone for a long time he thought she had hung up and he heard her inhale a sob. Fighting back his own tears he asked, "Have you called his parents yet?"

"No, not yet. I'm not sure I can repeat what happened to him again so soon."

"I'm almost to the hospital. I'll call them when I get there," he told her.

"Thank you," she sounded relieved.

"Lisa, I'm so sorry. I know what you meant to each other even if neither of you acknowledged it. I know you loved him."

Her voice was shaky when she replied back"As did you, James."

"Yeah."

The strange thing was Wilson wasn't feeling the pain he thought he'd feel at the news he had lost his best friend. On the contrary after he had hung up from speaking to a devastation Blythe House, he felt relief because he knew he might have lost House but had been given Amber's life in exchange. She was now the most important person in his life and he would have been hurt beyond recovery if she had been the one to die.

Even years later, after Amber became his fourth ex-wife, Wilson couldn't help feel that his negotiation with God that night had paid off.

And he would not undo that night for anything in the world, not even if it meant he could have gotten House back.

end