Title: Choices

Author: ToriaPhoenix

Pairing: Wilson/House, Wilson/Amber

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Post Wilson's Heart.

Summary: In the aftermath of Amber's death, Wilson's forced to make a choice.

Authors Note: All right. So just recently, I've become obsessed with all things House, M.D. I've seen a grand total of… oh, let's say ten episodes, including the two-part season four finale. I was totally caught off guard by the House/Wilson dynamic, and I really do think they'll eventually hook up. Wishful thinking? Possibly. Nevertheless, all the right elements are there.

Anyway, here's a story for all you ducklings. Enjoy.

- - - -

Wilson stared unflinchingly into House's icy blue eyes, ignoring the pleading gaze staring back at him.

'Your fault, your fault, all your fault House, all your fault…' A soft voice in the back of his mind was chanting, and Wilson silenced it mercilessly, despite the fact that it sounded strangely like Amber. His usually expressive brown eyes were glazed over with dull pain as he stared at his best friend who had unintentionally set in motion the events that would lead to his girlfriend's death.

'But he didn't mean for it to happen!' Another voice argued, and Wilson shivered as he recognized House's voice. Wilson shook his head, and turned away from the doorway, unsure if his composure would hold for much longer if he stayed.

He walked dully towards the entrance of the hospital, every step reminding him of what he was leaving behind. Upon reaching the door, Wilson paused and stared blankly at the world beyond the glass. The moment he left the hospital, Amber's death would become all the more real. There would be no denial, no delusions that she was at the apartment… nothing but the truth.

'Everybody lies…' The low voice murmured in his head, and Wilson inhaled sharply.

Then he walked out the door.

- - - -

The drive home was a blur at best. He remembered getting into his car, sticking the key in the ignition, and suddenly he was in the parking lot of the apartment complex. Wilson climbed out of the car, and his body went into autopilot as he numbly walked towards the apartment.

As he slipped the key into the lock, his mind flashed to the time when Amber had shoved him forcefully against the door, lips crushed against his, body's flushed together, icy blue eyes piercing into his-

'Hazel eyes.' The House voice interrupted him gently, almost amused in a sad sort of way. 'Amber had hazel eyes, not blue.' Wilson blinked, and pushed the door open.

The scent of her body spray assaulted him immediately, and Wilson choked back tears as he breathed in the scent of lilies and ivory soap.

In a daze, Wilson made his way to the bedroom, nearly tripping several times on the way there.

'Easy there James,' The House voice warned. 'Remember walking? Right, left, repeat? Do that.'

Wilson nodded numbly. Thanks to some unknown luck, he made it to the bedroom without any further consequence. Collapsing on the bed, Wilson furrowed his brow curiously as he spotted a scrap of paper under his pillow. Shakily, he reached for it.

Sorry I'm not here

Went to get House.

3 Amber

Wilson let out a shuddering gasp, grabbing the pillow and clutching it to his chest desperately. Gone. She was gone.

He drifted off into an uneasy sleep to the sound of his own sobs.

And he dreamed.

He dreamed.

- - -

It was too bright…

Wilson winced, and his hand flew up to his eyes in an attempt to block out some of the light.

"Too bright." He croaked, and the blinding light dimmed. Untroubled by the lights immediate cooperation, Wilson lowered his hand, and glanced around. It was white, as far as the eye could see. It was illogical; nevertheless, Wilson shrugged it off as one of the many oddities that complicated his life.

"You didn't choose me." A sharp voice called from behind him. Wilson spun around, heart stopping for a split second upon seeing the familiar blond.

"Amber." He breathed, a wide smile on his lips. She looked... ethereal. Blonde hair flowing over her shoulder, red lips smiling thinly at him, a flowing white gown fluttering gently in the non-existent breeze. He took a step towards her.

She stepped back.

"You didn't choose me." She repeated, the malice in the words fading and shifting into something distressing.

"What do you mean?" Wilson asked, confused. Amber motioned behind him, eyes sad.

"She's talking about me." Drawled a voice from behind him. Wilson turned, and his breath caught in his throat upon seeing House.

Unlike Amber, House was dressed from head to toe in black. Black leather jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans, black shoes… and he wasn't using his cane.

He didn't belong in this place. Not like Amber did, anyway.

"House-" he began, voice cracking. Wilson stopped, clearing his throat, and started again. "House, what are you doing here?"

House studied him intently, and Wilson felt the all too familiar fluttering in his stomach that he had long since accepted as one of the many downsides to being House's best friend.

House smiled oddly. "You'd know better then I would."

Wilson shook his head. "I don't understand." He admitted, frowning.

"Ask your girlfriend then." House said, not unkindly, and suddenly Amber was standing next to House, her red lips pursed tightly.

"You didn't choose me." She repeated.

"Amber, what are you talking about?" Wilson asked desperately, frustration boiling over. Her pointed gaze drifted to House, who in turn, was staring openly at Wilson. "It's… it's something to do with House?" He asked, rubbing his neck. "I don't understand…"

Amber smiled grimly, and suddenly the three of them were on a bus. House and Wilson sat side by side, staring across the aisle to where Amber sat.

A blinding flash.

Glass exploding.

House reaching desperately in attempt to grab Amber, and Wilson in turn holding tightly onto House so he wouldn't get hurt either.

A sickening crunch as Amber slammed against the side of the bus.

Wilson watched on in shock, tears spilling from his eyes.

"Stop…" He whispered, and House gazed at him sadly. In a flash, they were back in the white abyss, and Wilson was staring at Amber in horror.

"Amber…" He said thickly, and Amber glared.

"You chose him over me." She accused, hazel eyes flashing in pain.

"What?" Wilson laughed bitterly. "I chose him over you? I didn't get a choice in this Amber!"

She evaluated him shrewdly. "What if you did have a choice?" She asked dangerously. Wilson opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly they were on the bus again, only… only this time it was Amber sitting next to him, and House was across the aisle.

A cold dread filled him.

"Who would you choose?" Amber whispered, her lips gently brushing against his ear. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he turned to House.

The crash seemed to last much longer this time. Wilson made no move to shield Amber. Instead, Wilson concentrated his efforts on somehow saving House. It was futile. House slammed against the side of the bus like a rag doll, the pole of the bus piercing his good leg. House screamed in agony, and Wilson screamed with him.

He was still screaming when he realized they were back in the white abyss for the second time.

His legs collapsed from under him, and Wilson gave a shuddering sob. House moved to his side, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Wilson instinctively leaned into him.

"Choose." Amber ordered, gazing at him sternly.

"Choose." House whispered into his ear, squeezing him a little.

Wilson shuddered.

"You have to choose." House murmured again.

"James, you have to choose." Amber echoed as she folded her arms across her chest.

Wilson stared at Amber desperately. "Amber you know I choose you-"

"Don't lie to me." She said, glaring.

Wilson deflated.

"House." He murmured. "I'd choose House."

Amber sighed, and sat on his other side.

"You always choose him." She muttered. "You chose him over Katharine, Bonnie, Julie… I was hoping I'd be the exception." She paused, allowing the words to sink in. "Why James?"

Wilson turned to gaze at Amber.

"Amber… it should be you." Wilson said regretfully. "You're the one I should want to choose. You're the one I should be in love with."

"But I'm not." She said gently.

"No." Wilson said, heart twisting painfully in his chest. "You're not."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"I love you. But… If he's the one who makes you happy… you shouldn't be afraid to go to him." Amber said quietly, and Wilson's heart panged at the out of character display of unselfishness.

"He killed you." Wilson protested weakly, and House turned to him sharply.

"I tried to save her." House said softly. "I tried."

Wilson tore himself away from House's embrace and stood up.

"But… but it was your fault she was on the bus in the first place! She wouldn't be dead if it weren't for you."

House ducked his head in shame. "I tried." He repeated.

Wilson bristled. "Not hard enough evidentially, because she's dead House! She's dead because you couldn't… you couldn't…"

House's head shot up, icy blue eyes glaring into Wilson's brown ones. "I nearly died trying to save her Wilson! I didn't do it for her; I did it for you. Because you asked me too! Because I love-"

- - - -

Wilson woke with a start, heart pounding furiously.

Head throbbing, Wilson drowsily grabbed at the aspirin bottle that sat on the bedside table. Swallowing a few pills, he replayed the dream in his head.

She was right.

He chose House over everything... all thanks to his unresolved, unrequited feelings that had damned him ever since the day he first laid eyes on Gregory House.

Wilson shook his head, causing a jolt of pain to shoot through him. He sighed. Now was not the time for contemplating said feelings. It was time for grieving, time for moving on.

Time to find the will to keep living.

He wouldn't have to look to far.

It was one of the upsides of having House as his best friend.

- - - -