Threshold by asesina

disclaimer: Mr. Shore owns House.

a/n: inspired by Wilson's Heart. Mostly Amber's final thoughts on her mortality and Wilson.

I hope you like it.

-0-

Everything feels heavy.

Heavy, and then she's suddenly weightless.

She is floating on the edge of consciousness, and a brilliantly blinding light illuminates the world beyond her closed eyelids.

Her eyes flutter open, and her pupils constrict as they are flooded with light.

No, it isn't heaven, at least not yet.

She squints as her eyes adjust to the brightness of the hospital room, and the fluorescent lights fall on his head like a halo on a newly-canonized saint.

Wilson.

She reaches blindly for his hand and finds that it is already resting on her shoulder.

His fingers are knotted in her hospital gown and he pulls her desperately to him, whispering about how it'll be okay and that she should just rest.

How can I? she wants to ask him.

I'm going to...

It's easy for her to make the dreaded conclusion as she listens to the bypass machines and sees the tears glistening in Wilson's eyes.

I'm going to die.

"I'm dead," she chokes, still unable to grasp the simple reality of her mortality.

He folds his hands over hers and moves closer to her on the bed.

He murmurs something again about it being okay, but she knows that he's lying.

"I shouldn't have gotten on that bus," she manages.

"It's not your fault," he assures her.

Amber knows that no one, not even House, could have predicted the bus crash.

She is in no condition to question fate or ponder other existential musings, but it's still difficult to understand.

Not so long ago, she was a healthy, strong woman, full of youth and vitality.

Now, she is in a hospital bed, hooked up to an innumerable amount of machines and IVs, only minutes away from death.

She takes another breath and wonders if this one will be her last.

Amber has never really measured time in breaths and heartbeats and blinks, but she can't help it now.

She hears Wilson whispering that he loves her, and she returns the gesture, feeling her eyes cloud with tears as exhaustion sweeps over her body.

This is it, she thinks, and the last thing that she sees is Wilson leaning over her, already beginning to sob.

She doesn't want her final thought to be one of resentment or bitterness, but she can't help but think it's not fair as she slips deeper into unconsciousness and crosses the hazy threshold into the unknown.