An: This is based off a conversation I had with my friend Emily. The season 4 finalee (Wilson's Heart) touched me so much I had to write out some of the emotions.

I hope you enjoy

My tears have been my food day and night.

He looked at her. Was she always that pretty? Her blonde hair flowed so freely about her fair face down onto her pink clad shoulders. She looked almost angelic. Everything around them was white. It was beautiful, or at least…it should have been.

"You're dead."

"Yes," Amber replied. She sounded so peaceful and somehow that scared him.

"Am I dead too?"

"Not yet."

He looked straight ahead as they spoke, letting her words flow around him. Trying to force his brain not to go further than those words, but he kept seeing it. Amber beside him on the train, her smile, that red scarf…

"Death shouldn't be so random…" It should have been me. You should be alive…not me, his mind whispered bitterly.

"I want to stay here with you," he admitted, sounding more like a child than he would have imagined possible. "It doesn't hurt here. I don't want to hurt…I don't want to be miserable…I don't want him to hate me." She looked him straight in the eyes.

"We don't always get what we want."

He stood and walked slowly to the front of the train, and as he stepped from light into darkness he knew.

--

"I'm here, I'm here…" Cuddy whispered as he slowly returned to consciousness. House instantly missed the blissful numbness of that other place, the one he couldn't quite put name too. For one moment he was sure it was Heaven…Amber would go there wouldn't she? When did he start thinking such things? He didn't believe in Heaven or life after death. There was life…then there was death…then…then what? Nothing. For the first time he found himself unable to believe that.

My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be.

--

House woke again, and there he was. Wilson stood at his door. It always amazed House that Wilson's face could show the stirrings of his soul in such a profound way. The pain was etched in the very lines of his face.

Wilson. He wanted to say a thousand things, but there was nothing. No words to make up for what he had done and as his only true friend in the world turned to leave, House knew. If he had done something different, if he had been different…if he had lived differently Amber would never have gotten on that bus.

I will cry for your help, for my heart is overwhelmed.

--

He stood in front of the mirror, staring at the rugged face and motley hair. He didn't look different, but he wasn't Wilson. The things inside him never showed on the outside.

This would be his first day back.

"You're not going like that are you?"

He closed his eyes tightly, slowly turning and peeling them open again.

"You're dead," he whispered to the blonde. She crossed her arms, that familiar look of annoyance on her face. "When are you gonna stop bother me?"

"Don't you mean, when are you gonna stop bothering you?" she looked him in the eyes.

"What do you want from me?"

"What do you want from you?"

"That doesn't make any sense!" He screamed, throwing the empty beer bottle across the room. It shattered loudly, but the room was otherwise silent. She was gone…again.

I earnestly search for you.

--

He walked through the familiar doors. The smell of disinfectant, the florescent lighting, the noise…it struck him differently than it ever had before.

"What do you want from you?" her whisper rang in his ears. "What are you searching for?"

House went straight to his office, shutting the door on everything outside. A soft nod followed but a few moments later.

"Come in Cuddy," he sound barely loud enough for her to hear. She pushed open the door and stood before his desk.

"How are you feeling?"

He looked up at her, but none of his usual responses would come. His reserve was gone. It died with those two near death experiences he suffered on the same day. It died with Amber.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil, for your rod and your staff they comfort me…Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

"You're a praying woman Cuddy?" he asked, without his usual venom.

"Not normally," she replied honestly, "but lately…there seems to be less in life to hold on to."

"I don't believe in any of that," he replied roughly.

"Are you sure?" She looked at him, her eyes so soft. He didn't even hear her leave the room. He only heard her words.

You have seen my troubles, and you care about the anguish of my soul.

Psalms 42, 61, and 31 all quoted in Italics, Cuddy was reciting Psalm 23