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Carpe diem.
Seize the day.
God, he had been impressionable at seventeen, Wilson thought. He didn’t often let his thoughts drift off to that particular year of private school, to his friends, to Mr. Keating. To his father. Of course he had been a different person back then, not only had he grown up, he had also changed his name after that failed suicide attempt.
He shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to go there, not yet.
He had had a wonderful year at Welton. The Dead Poets Society had been his best decision in a long time. It had also been one of the last decisions he had made without his father hanging around checking his every move.
He closed his eyes and let his mind go back to his Puck, to the one and only play he had been in. Sometimes he wished that he had just ran away, tried to make it on his own. He was good, he was so good. He would’ve been able to make it if he had started then.
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. What had even brought this all back? Why had he started thinking about this again? Was it the hospital play, organized by the nurses for the terminal kids to star in so that they got a good feeling about themselves. He went every year – he was the head of oncology after all – and this time the nurses had asked him to star in it as well. Just a tiny role of course, he had a lot of work. He played one of the kid’s father and he got some comments from the nurses that he was wonderful at it. He simply smiled at them before he left the room.
It was the fault of the play that he was thinking again. Was he really going to do this? Blame everything on this stupid play? The play was just a reason to remember, he could stop himself perfectly fine. He hadn’t told anyone about this – apart from the persons involved of course – and he had told every single one of them not to tell House any of it. He would never hear the end of everything.
He had no doubt that the diagnostician would find out one day – either through his team or simply because he came to the play. He took a deep breath, he should go apologize to the nurses for running away, but he couldn’t bring myself to get up. What he wouldn’t give to meet some of his friends again from that time. But of course he had to tell them all that he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to live with the shame now would he? He had always been one to care for what others thought of him, even back then.
Carpe diem.
He sighed deeply. How could he have ever thought that defying his father was a good idea? And then that stunt with the gun. He had been lucky that the ambulance had been there quickly and that the paramedics had been able to save him. His father had panicked so badly when he had found him there on the ground, bleeding, and he had grown a bit calmer. Well, it had only lasted for about a year – the year he spent in military school. After that, he had been forced to attend med school, like he had always been told to do. It did turn out alright – he was pretty happy with his life and with his friends, well, friend actually.
Sometimes he wished he could go back in time but he couldn’t – of course he couldn’t – it would be idiotic. Sometimes he wished he could meet some of his old friends, see what had become of them. Sometimes, when he was in a nostalgia mood, he looked them up on Facebook. They had all listened to their fathers and had become what they were supposed to be – just like him really.
Carpe diem.
He got up again. Maybe he should talk to at least someone about this – someone besides his parents – would House listen to him if he asked? He should. Yes, he was going to ask. Seize the day. Yes. He walked to the door out to the open office. His eyes widened as he say the team roll a bed past him. In the bed was someone he know – someone he hadn’t suspected to see anytime soon – anytime at all.
The man in the bed did recognize him too and his eyes widened as he saw him.
“Neil? Neil Perry?” The man wheezed. “Is that really you?”
Suddenly House was next to the oncologist. “This is James Wilson, you idiot.”
“House.” Wilson hissed. “Be polite alright?”
The diagnostician’s eyes widened. “You know this man? Wilson?”
Wilson turned very pale and shook his head. “No. And I don’t know a Neil Perry either.”
“You do know him.” House narrowed his eyes and took a closer look at the oncologist.
The team started to roll the bed away again, bringing the patient back to his room after the test. Wilson followed the bed with his eyes, completely ignoring the diagnostician. What did Todd Anderson do here in this hospital?
“What happened to Todd?” Wilson mumbled softly.
“You do know him! How do you know him? Why does he call you Neil Perry?”
“My office, in five minutes. I need to talk to him.” He walked away, following the team to their room, leaving a speechless diagnostician behind. He waited until everyone had left the room before he walked in.
“Todd Anderson. I never thought I’d see you again.” He smiled slightly. “How... How are you? I know that’s a bit of a stupid question, but well… How did you get here?”
Todd returned the smile as good as he could. “You were dead, Neil. They told us you committed suicide. Why… Why would you lie about a thing like this?”
“I’m sorry, I… I thought it would be easier to start a new life if I didn’t have an old one to return to.” He looked down. “I’m sorry, okay? I did what I thought was best. And, I have to ask you this, could you please call me James here? I did change my name after all, since Neil Perry is legally dead.”
Todd didn’t want to look at him all of a sudden. He looked hurt and Wilson knew that is was his fault. “I’ll try to.”
“Thanks, Todd. And I’m sorry for... For never saying anything, for never coming back.” At that moment, his pager started to beep, no doubt House asking him where he was. “I have to go.” He gestured to the beeping thing. “I’ll see you later.”
Todd was still not looking at the oncologist as he walked out of the room to his own office without even checking his pager, because he knew who it was, he had always known somehow. And he had been right, of course he had been. House was pacing his office, annoyed that the oncologist was still not there. When the man finally walked in he was immediately all over him.
“How do you know this dude? Why did he call you ‘Neil Perry’?”
“Sit down and listen, House. And maybe you’ll learn something about me.” He watched how House sat down on the couch before he took place behind his own desk. He took a deep breath, thought about how to start his story. He wished that there was a movie about this so that he could just show it and say ‘this was my life’.
He started at the beginning at the year. With Mr. Keating, his classes, the damned carpe diem, Dead Poets Society, the midnight poetry readings, the call from God and how it all started to go down from there. The realization that he wanted to be an actor, the play, his father and how he eventually could star in the play and how that his father had taken him away from school, his life and everything. He didn’t say anything about the suicide attempt, but he was a hundred percent sure that House knew. How could the man not know, he had a completely different name now, a different life.
House had grown quiet the longer Wilson had been talking. He had seen this glimpse in his eyes, the hint of a former happiness, a fondness of what had happened and House couldn’t help but think that Wilson looked happier in those last few minutes when he had been talking about acting and his life before than he had ever looked in the twenty years he had known the man. So instead of making sarcastic remarks, he simply took the man’s hand and squeezed it.
“You should do an audition again.”
Wilson looked up surprised, not expecting this from the diagnostician. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve looked happier in the last few minutes talking about acting than I’ve ever seen you. Go do what makes you happy. Your father is dead now, why the hell are you still listening to what he said to you over thirty years ago?”
“I… I don’t know.” Wilson was too surprised to say anything. “I suppose you’re right. I should go do that again. Carpe diem, right?” A weak smile appeared on his lips.
“That’s the Wilson I know. Not boring.” House smirked widely as Wilson got back on his feet, looking happy again, excited. Looking forward to what could happen.
“So who’s this Todd fellow?” House asked while Wilson was still positively beaming. And a second later he wished that he hadn’t because the moment he had finished the sentence, Wilson’s smile disappeared from his face again.
“A friend. From… Before. The one that was new and shy and everything. He was my roommate.” There was that ghost of a smile again. The thing that House had always believed to be genuine but that was actually a fake, weak reflection of the real thing that House had now witnessed for the first time. And he suddenly knew that he simply wanted Wilson to be happy. More than anything else in the world he wanted to see that genuine smile of a happy Wilson all day, just for him.
“You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to, James.” House got on his feet, limping slowly towards his best friend. “He’s not your patient and he upsets you, so why would you talk to him?”
Wilson looked down at his feet, not wanting to talk about it and at the same time he did. He couldn’t help but needing to vent to someone and right now the only who was ready to listen to him was House.
“He hates me. For dying and not dying at the same time. For not contacting him, or anyone else. For pretending to be dead because I honestly thought the temptation of having a life I could go back to was too much. If they all thought I… was dead, then… then they wouldn’t be waiting for me, they wouldn’t see how weak I was for listening to my father after all.”
“You, James Evan Wilson, are never weak. And you never have been.” House had reached the oncologist and slowly wrapped his arm around the man’s shoulder. Wilson smiled his genuine smile again, and somehow, it brightened House’s day. Then, when Wilson leaned his head on the diagnostician’s shoulder, the House almost burst with happiness. He never thought that such a simple feeling, something that had started the moment they had met, would be able to make him feel like this.
“Thank you, House.” The smile was still there. “Thank you for listening.”
House wanted to capture this moment forever, where he was holding onto the man he had grown so fond of over the last twenty years, but it was over way too soon. Wilson pulled back again and walked to the door.
“I’m going to talk to him.” He smiled slightly. “Could you… Would you like to come with me, please? You don’t have to say anything but I just… I need someone there with me.”
“Of course. Anything you want, James.” House smiled a smile he knew was genuine, because he was just like Wilson in that way, his genuine smiles were so rare. He was rewarded with a gentle poke in his side and a soft smirk before the man opened the door and walked out. He held on to his cane, smiled to himself and followed the man to his high school roommate.
He stayed in the corner of the room while Wilson was using his doctor voice as he talked to his friend. He didn’t care what they were talking about and that didn’t matter, because he could do the thing he loved most: Wilson-watching. He knew the man’s body language, he knew how he felt when his shoulders slumped down. He was nervous when he started talking. Nervous and stressed and scared of what could happen, of how this man could reject him so easily. But halfway the conversation, he changed. The subject had changed from why he hadn’t told to the year that had shared and the memories made Wilson smile again. For a moment, House could almost see the seventeen year old Neil Perry run around the room with Todd’s poetry, he could almost see him shout as he came back from the audition, filled with adrenaline of how exciting it was to do something behind his father’s back. But most of all, he could see him there shouting that he had the part, his smile lighting up the room, but with nobody to appreciate it the way he did.
From time to time while he was talking, Wilson looked over to the diagnostician with this huge smile on his face and it made him look so much younger. Wilson had never looked old, he had aged well, but at this moment there were no more lines of worry around his eyes or on his forehead, all there was, was this huge, wonderful smile and instead of the forty something oncologist, he looked like a twenty something med student who was having fun with his friends. And House was so glad he was there to appreciate it.
After about ten minutes of conversation, Todd Anderson turned to House and he smiled. “I’m going to stop stealing your boyfriend now, doctor. All I can do is ask to treat him very, very carefully. And don’t make what he tried to so thirty years ago succeed. Do you get that? I don’t even care if you would fail to cure me, as long as you look after this amazing human being.” Then he turned back at Wilson. “And you look after yourself, Neil, James, whoever you are right now. And be proud of who you are, because you were the best thing that could ever have happened to me. You helped me become a public speaker, and I’m so grateful. And if you would ever find yourself in need of someone to throw a desk set with, call me and I’ll be there.”
Wilson smiled weakly at the man and nodded. “Thank you, Todd. I truly appreciate that. I have only one more comment on this. House is not my boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry, what do you call each other then? Partner, lover? Whatever you think is more suitable.”
“I am not gay, Todd. And I am not together with House.” He looked over at the diagnostician who was still sitting in the corner of the room, quite deliberately not looking at the oncologist and his friend. “House, tell… tell him, I’m not…”
“You are a bit, James.” House raised his eyebrows. “Well, for me you are. And I kind of am gay for you too.”
Wilson didn’t know what to say. He looked between House and Todd and his mouth was a bit open and House was so tempted to lean in and kiss the man senseless. He bit his lip softly and looked down so he wouldn’t see the man get on his feet and walk away, because that was something he didn’t want to see. He heard the man get up, he heard him walking but he couldn’t hear the door opening. When he felt Wilson’s hand on his chin, he looked up surprised, to look into those warm, brown, lovely eyes. The oncologist smiled softly and leaned in slowly. House leaned in eagerly and pressed his lips upon Wilson’s.
There was a small cheer coming from the bed and that only made Wilson smile more. All House could think about though, was how perfectly the two of them fitted together. Wilson was sitting in his lap, but he was very careful not to touch his bad leg. He knew that he could probably rest his head on top of Wilson’s and they would be perfect. Why hadn’t they done this before? That was his only regret. Where had this Todd Anderson been the last twenty years? They would be able to save themselves so much pain and heartbreak and longing.
But now he was here, and House finally knew the full extent of Wilson’s life, all the secrets he had been keeping from him and everyone else in the hospital. And he felt so privileged to know everything. He pulled back slowly to gently cup the man’s cheek.
“Why haven’t we done this before?” House whispered softly, already completely forgotten about any other persons in the room but Wilson.
“I don’t know, but it seems incredibly silly that we haven’t done it.” Wilson leaned closer to House with that wonderful genuine smile on his face again. “And I would love to do it again.”
House smiled softly. “So would I. Want to do find a room? There are plenty of those here in the hospital.”
Wilson nodded as he got on his feet and offered the diagnostician a hand to get up. House took it was a huge smile and after a quick smile to Todd Anderson, Wilson and House left the room and found their own.
Do I have to tell you the rest?