Disclaimer: I don't own House MD or the characters used in the story, they are used for fictional purposes for no profit.
Warm Whisper
"Aren't you scared?" He asked quietly, unwilling to voice his own fears.
She shook her head and answered with a gentle, "No."
"Why?"
She stared at him and smiled softly, green eyes warming prettily, "Death's not something to be scared of. It hurts less than living."
Deep creases lined his face as he frowned, "I don't want to die."
"You don't want to live either." She whispered, staring straight ahead as her arms rested on the metal bar in front of her.
He sat quietly.
A pregnant silence followed until she broke it, her voice sounding strangely sombre,
"Just because he's upset it doesn't mean you can desert him. He'll need you."
"He'll hate me."
"You're all he's got."
"Some consolation prize," He muttered uncomfortably, "Your girlfriend just died, go buddy up with the man who killed her."
"You tried to save me."
"I didn't save you, that's all he'd going to remember."
"You can't save them all."
"I can." He stated, tightening his grip on he bar, next to her elbow.
"You didn't."
He shook his head, "I can't go back."
"Why? No one's perfect."
"They won't trust me anymore. They won't listen."
"They will."
He wanted to yell at her, since when had she been so stubborn, then he figured maybe it wasn't such a good idea to yell at a dead patient/ex-employee/friend's girlfriend.
"We talked about marriage, you know."
He looked at her, incredulous, and she nodded, "No formal plans or anything but we figured that in the future we would."
"You chose to marry him in a matter of months?"
She nodded again.
He almost laughed, surprised at how many women Wilson had managed to capture in the illusion of a marriage, then he remembered where he was and that maybe laughing wasn't the most appropriate reaction.
"Why are we on the bus?" He demanded, instead of pressing the marriage issue.
She shrugged, "Dunno."
"Maybe it's supposed to be ironic."
She didn't reply.
"How much time have I got?" He asked quietly.
She shrugged again.
"I can't go back yet." He insisted.
"Why?"
"Cuddy will cry. Wilson will yell. It's peaceful here."
Her lip curled in a sarcastic smirk, "Yeah, the dead get all the peace."
He felt the tug of a smile on his lips, "I just need a few more minutes."
"Don't take too long." She warned gently, resting her head upon her crossed arms.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head backwards, resting it against the silver pole that was bolted to the floor. There were strange noises in the background; soft beeps letting him know that he was still alive. Just barely. He couldn't place where they were coming from but he could feel the soft thrum of his heart, still beating in time with the faded blips.
"My heart's beating." He murmured.
"Mine's not." She added, lifting her head and reaching for his hand, placing it across her chest.
Her skin was cool and her chest felt unnaturally still, she wasn't breathing and her heart wasn't beating. She looked up at him sadly,
"You need to go back."
He gave the faintest of nods and shifted slightly in the seat.
"Tell him I love him."
"Ok."
"Tell him to move on."
"I will."
He didn't move to get up and she softly reminded, "House..."
He stood and stepped out into the aisle, looking back at her. She smiled again,
"I'll be fine, you know that."
He nodded and turned to walk away, as he reached the doors he turned around and gave a half wave.
She didn't return it, she was gone.
He set his foot down on the first step and murmured, "Bye Amber."