Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Monday.

Yet the start of another week. More traffic but less patient check ups thankfully. Clinic work wasn’t much anyhow, it usually consisted of vaccinations, people wanting a flu checked and sometimes (but not scarcely) checking on things that weren’t remotely as harmful as the patient had believed it was but refusing his opinion. But it was his job, he was obliged to do it.

He leaned back in his chair, checking folders before a creak came from the door.

“Cuddy complaining again?” James spoke, sitting up right in the chair.

“Ding ding ding, well done, you’ve won the obvious game.” sarcasm laced through House’s demeaning, monotoned voice.

“Was this about clinic duty again? You know no one likes it but it’s our job.”

“Thank you captain obvious. Cuddy told me to get someone to advise me to make sure I wasn’t just sitting, ‘ignoring my duty’, she never said who.”

“Oh, I knew I should’ve guessed that.” he says, almost smugly with a grin, snapping his fingers into a point, “You know what, fine, might as well entertain myself and keep you in line enough for Cuddy and the patients’ sakes.”

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It was just another Monday. He sat in his living room, staring at the clock on the wall, ticking away. He was leaning into the couch, hoping time would pass by sooner and he’d finally arrive. There was a notepad, pencil and crumpled up paper sprawled around.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Another ten minutes, another page onto the floor. He was about to give up and just fall asleep there as he’s not been able to sleep the night before. It had been over a year since they last met. How much had they both changed, did he even remember him?

Maybe he was just overthinking, it’s not uncommon of him. It’ll be fine, it’ll all be fi-

Knock Knock

There he was, were he to open the door? I mean, he had to, it would be rude to leave him there. He had quickly scrambled to put all the ripped sheets into the trash. Heading towards the door he held his hand over the door knob, this would all be fine.

“Toddtholomew! How’s it been!” a wide grin sprawled across the man’s face, his classic grin that anyone who’d ever seen it could recognise it in a minute. A likely smile mirrored across to his own face, “Charlie! It’s been good, yeah. It’s been so long. Come in, come in. Been up to much?” He’d move across to the living room, the old friend following with.

“Work,” he’d sigh with a smile, “banking and everything, not the most exhilarating, didn’t you say you were doing some writing, right? How’s that?” He’d take a look over to him as they sat down on the couch.

“Oh, yeah, alright.” He looked away from the eyes across from him, trying to avoid the question completely.

“Alright? Todd, you’re writing your own poetry book, it’s remarkable work! No longer ghost writing for others but your own! I’m sure it’s breathtaking, you’re just too humble about it all.”

Breathtaking. As if it would be anything more than worthy of the trash can it ended up in. He just couldn’t find the words, it wasn’t enough. Words, words and words. But no meaning.

His eyes studied where the paper had ended up in the corner. It’s not as if he thought it deserved any better than where it had ended itself up in as yet it felt as thought he had just given up. No time to look back on the past anyways, just have to keep looking forward. There was no such yesterday.

“Oh, thanks Charlie.” He formed a weak but genuine smile, glancing back as he’s been longing at those pieces of paper too long, his eyes meeting Charlie’s gaze of almost confusion, trying to read his face it seemed.

“Just speaking the truth.” He responded with a shrug and that signature smile.

“Also, I never got your actual answer, why are you in New Jersey anyhow? I know that your work needed you up for Thursday and Friday but why’d they bring you over here so early?”

“Do you not remember? Happy birthday Todd! Thirty-one now, they grow up so fast” he’s pretend to wipe a tear from his eye, shaking his head ever so slowly to add to his dramatics.

Oh.

Oh.

His birthday. That day.

The bitter thought of it lives vividly in his head no matter how much he wishes that it would leave him be. He wishes the thought of him would leave him be.

Yesterday was yesterday. He should be over and have forgotten the past by now. He only it wishes he could. The replaying memories feel like torture, aching every time he remembers unwillingly.

He only wishes it could go. Cease to exist within his fond memories. There was no such yesterday.

Chapter Text

“Thirty one already? Time sure does fly by.”

That was a complete lie.

Nothing felt like it was passing him by for a long while besides his own spirit. Maybe it was just growing up, everyone always says on how desperately exhausting that is. Todd can definitely not deny this much, he feels like a plough’s just been right through him. Maybe it was the sudden realization that it was his birthday anyways, he didn’t keep count of it much anymore. It wasn’t much of a bother once the one remnant of a birthday was concluded at eighteen when his parents stopped sending anything at all.

No more flying desk sets. Why was he even thinking of this, this is what he was trying to stray away from. He needed to focus and just forget.

“Honestly, time isn’t passing me by, it’s trying to run me over!” Charlie chuckled a bit, attempting to lighten the mood that loomed over the last fragment of that conversation. “How about we go out and do something? I heard there’s a good few restaurants and market nearby, right?”

“It’s alright, we don’t have to do anyth-“

“C’mon Todd, carpe diem! That’s what we always used to say. Can’t we live like that for one day more? Nothing matters in the world today but this celebration, you’ll see. It’ll be fun, trust me. Tomorrow is nothing to worry about while we have today.” He seemed to almost be pleading to try to convince him of this idea.

“Okay, okay!” an amused look on Todd’s face appeared, still glad to finally see at least one of the poets again after the years that had passed by.

They’d sometimes keep in contact through letters but it’s all been so long since their high school years. Meeks moving to Massachusetts with his new job in the tech team of a radio station over there. Pitts moving nearby too to work in the production team of the station. Knox staying in Vermont with Chris, becoming a lawyer as his parents set him out to be. Charlie also following his parent’s paths, becoming a banker in Vermont too. No one knew too much of what Cameron had been doing since no one was that close to him to keep in contact.

Seeing Charlie there felt like a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. Like they were all still young. Like they were all still careless. Like they were all still there.

The old times, the old memories seeped through his veins as if dopamine.

If only he could relive the past for a day. Only if. Maybe this was the closest he could get to it. It was best to live it out while he could. Carpe diem; wasn’t that the saying?

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“This isn’t what I meant when I said to get someone to supervise your work, House”
a voice came from the doorway, yet it was far beyond expected.

“You didn’t specify who though Cuddy, and I think both you and me can see one person here to supervise me unless you’ve suddenly and unforeseeably become blind.”

“How does watching the football game help the patient.”

“He’s watching it, it tests his reaction time on how quick it takes him to realise when a team scores.”

“I’d say it tests your ability on how capable you are and how ethical your practices are. Nonetheless, this being one of your none lethal ones.”

This backhanded bickering continued on as it usually does, Wilson listening in with his hand pressed against his forehead. It has no longer been a revelation to him since years prior. It was something everyone knew and nonetheless expected. He seemed to get lost along the conversation, almost accidentally tuning it out.

The door had shut after Cuddy. He’d stood up just a bit before House prescribed the patient some medicine which he had predicted will help off assumptions of the patient. Of course, he had no tests taken of the patient before prescribing anything, just assumptions based off the person. If he got a dollar for every time that House took anything Cuddy said to heart or even thought to follow it, he wouldn’t even have a few more cents then where he started. Even after Cuddy berating his actions, House still refused to follow anything but his own hypothesis as if the only person that could be right in the world was him.

After this was their lunch break though and thank god for that. House protesting over his clinic duty was finally over and he could head back to his patients after lunch too; a lot of work to finish. Finally the clinic duty was don-

“This isn’t what I need.” the patient spoke up across to House.

“It isn’t what you think you need. Or, maybe I’m wrong. I mean. I’m just a doctor, right? I just got this PHD online and printed it off for the job interview. They didn’t give a second look over it and let me be a head of department for the sake of it. Maybe you should try it out? I think you might be able to become my boss, right, cause that’s what you think?” House’d pace throughout the room in the meanwhile, almost going back and forth, looking at the patient every so often.

Silence filled the room as House stared at the patient for an answer.

“I’ll take that as a no then?” He let that question linger in the room for a few seconds before continuing on, “Good. Here’s the prescription, take it this time.”

Wilson observed as the patient left with prescription in hand, leaving the door. He looked over towards House.

“Jeez, that was one way to get him to take it.” He’d rest his hands on his hips, facetiously stern with a smirk on his face.

“It’s either that or he sits there arguing with someone who actually has a clue what they’re taking about, wasting my time that I could be doing much better stuff with.” House retorts with a partially tired and irked expression.

“What? Like watching your soap operas or playing your gameboy?” He chuckled the slightest with a smidge of an inquisitive seeming eyebrow raised.

“Exactly. Why miss such things for a moron like that?” House glared off before looking back over, “Lunch?”

Chapter Text

Around midday,

“I still manage to get lost around here after what, 6 years? I don’t even know how I manage that, New Jersey’s such a big place, huh?” Todd chuckled a little, looking over to Charlie who was walking beside him.

Maybe he didn’t go outside the house enough to know where the backroots led, even some of the main roads. However, he wasn’t even too sure how long they’d spent wondering around the winding roads. It didn’t matter how long they’d spent back there anyways, as long as they’d been spending the day together as it used to be. He’s been missing the poets dearly, even if he didn’t know it. It was all he needed in life; his old life. He’s been too hung up on that anyhow.

The careless wind of a fall day swept by them. The breeze sending a shiver down his spine. Him and Charlie had been strolling for around maybe 30 minutes yet this breeze couldn’t seem to catch a break. It was a close comparison to the bitter Vermont fall, yet not as viscous. At least it wasn’t winter just yet, the frost was quite intense some years. He ended up with his hands in his jeans pockets, in hopes to keep the warmth in slightly.

“So how’s life been going? Just in general. Got a love yet, Mr Poetry?” he tried to elbow him jokingly with a raised eyebrow.

“What, and pull what you did back in the cave with those girls you brought over from the other school?” Todd joked around with him, deflecting the question from himself in the process.

“Still got the charm too, the words of poetry always woo women.” he looked over with a charm in his eyes as they used to gleam with glee, “Prefer to stay a bachelor though for years to come. No use in it now, doesn’t seem to last long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. It’s weird to see people you know getting married now though, makes me feel as if they years are just completely passing by almost. I mean Chris and Knox’s wedding felt like a completely shocking reminder of our adulthood. All the things that felt as if pipe dreams what only feels like many moons ago yet has been years.”

“Honestly, I think even the wedding would be an absolute shock to us all if we heard it then. Good old Knoxie getting the girl we only heard about but had never seen.”

Charlie continued on yet it only started getting fuzzy within Todd’s mind.

“He would be ecstatic about Knox’s news too, he would’ve been so supportive and wanted to hear all about it.” Charlie had looked to have been testing the waters on whether mentioning him yet couldn’t seem to utter the name out of his own mouth, caught in his throat.

Charlie looked over with a supportive yet sorrowful smile, checking how Todd was doing yet he’s noticed something uneasy about him.

“Hey, Todd, you okay? We don’t have to talk about that if you’re not alright with it.” He checked as sweat seemed to drip down the other man’s face.

“No. Not that.” Todd seemed to have almost forced the word out of his mouth as if he was almost not able to. He began to lose a slight control of himself as his feet started to fail from under him.

“Todd?! What’s going on? Somebody call a doctor!” Charlie cried out to the street, slowly lowering Todd down to the floor incase he fell, hoping someone would hear his plead.

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“Seriously House? I get you hate dealing with naive patients but taking vicodin for every single one of them is futile. When they said Momento Mori, they didn’t mean do it yourself.”

“Going Latin on me, are you? Who the hell even learns Latin anyways? Thought that was a dead language. See, now that’s futile.” House’s slowly stood up from the chair as he looked into a folder of a patient’s file as if the information he gets handed wasn’t always obvious enough information of them even when observing patients.

“So, let’s see, which one is worse? Learning a language or taking drugs?” James rebutted at House’s snarky remark.

“Oo, tough one. On one hand you’ve got something that relieves the pain in my leg. Yet, on the other hand you’ve got something utterly useless in the real world. Such a compelling argument.”

“Are they even just for your leg anymore? Or is it just-“ James has been cut off abruptly by the door to the room breaching open.

“House, Dr Cuddy wants you to see her in her office.” A brunette woman spoke from the doorway, halfway in the room.

“Wants me in her room huh, wonder what’s this is about this time.” he retorted in his lackadaisical manner before leaving the room behind her.

Wilson got up from the empty room and headed back upstairs. He checked the clock in his room. There was a patient coming in around half an hour so he checked through their file in the meanwhile.

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“House, you’re going to have to do the rest of your clinic duty on a different day, don’t think I’ll forget.” Dr Cuddy spoke up from her desk at the end of the room. “The patient was walking across town with his friend until he began feeling nauseous and disoriented. Severe bradicardia. His heart rate’s at forty-eight and falling quickly. He’s not responding to atropine.”

“Wonder what that could be? Difficult one.” House picked up the folder.

“What? You picking up a case just like that? What’s your motive here? Or just a complex puzzle for you to mess with again.” Cuddy stared over with an annoyed-type complex in her eyes.

“I can’t just have interest in a case? No, I have to have a motive, don’t I? Do you want me to solve this or not?”

“Yes. Just follow procedure and don’t go off the wall for Pete’s sake.” She’s sigh, knowing none of this would be followed anyways.

House left the room while she was finishing her sentence, heading back to his room. There wasn’t a huge motive for taking the case. It was simple but it got him off clinic duty and stupid patients so it was worth enough. He just needed to tell the patient and then sit in his room as if he was busy.

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“It’s drugs.” He strode into the room of doctors looking at the case. “Give him charcoal and naloxone.”

“His tox screen was negative.” Foreman spoke up. “He’s still whacked out.”

“Why do you care about him?” House began, becoming slightly irritated that he didn’t just follow the diagnosis.

Foreman interrupted, “His CAT scan was clean. There’s no infection, it’s not diabetes.”

“Oh so you don’t care about him?” he retorted at the continuation.

“Yes. Is that what you want to hear?” Foreman was starting to get aggravated at him as he just passed by whatever he said with sarcasm, as always.

“Me neither. Means we’ll be objective.” He picked up a pen, writing across the whiteboard.

“Maybe it’s shigellosis?” Cameron broke the near silence that was being taken up by a squeaking board pen.

“Wouldn’t account for the bradycardia.” Foreman responded.

“Viral myocarditis?” Chase questioned from behind.

“Wouldn’t account for the whacked out.” House interjected, “So, what’s the differential for a negative tox screen?”

“He was clean.” Foreman stated.

“Unless someone screwed up.” Cameron jumped in the conversation again.

House interrupted from the doorway now, “That never happens.”

“Or he O.D.’d on something we didn’t test for. One-four butanediol would give you these symptoms.” Chase added in.

“That’s a new one.” Foreman commented in, not sarcastic like House however.

“Copy machine toner. Same punch as GHB. A little pricier. Way more dangerous. But on the other hand, it is legal.” House stated, “I want you to go to his house and find his stash. Cameron, go with. How much atropine is the guy getting?”

“One ml.” Chase responded as the others had left.

“Make it two. In case he needs his heart later on. House ended, looking back at the whiteboard full of symptoms.

Chapter Text

His foot tapped lightly yet full of nerves onto the sturdy, cold floor. The clock on the wall seemed to move slower and slower the longer he stared at it. Nothing else was moving in that room besides the hands of the clock and his anxious movements. The silence of the room spoke volumes

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

The clock only felt like a timer that you didn’t know when it was going to go off. Not a stir came from the bed next to him. It was if there was nothing there at all, no one there. Just the lurking spirit of Todd behind his shut eyes and Charlie’s concern for what had just happened. It was only around an hour or two ago that he had arrived and rejoiced for just a bit more than a year. He had so far debated calling the dead poets just to let them know but he didn’t want to worry them and especially didn’t want to even leave the room.

His heart loomed somewhere in his chest but sunk so far he couldn’t know where. Where had it all gone so wrong? Todd seemed just fine earlier. He hadn’t heard much of him since school and the odd few meet ups over the years but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

He wasn’t sure what time had passed but what he knew is that it felt like days.

A stir came from the hospital bed.

His eyes honed in on the movement. Was it him? Was he really awake?
Oh thank heavens. Oh my gosh.

“Todd?!”

His figure slightly elevated his stance with his eyes opening, “Happy birthday.”

“Todd?”

“Momento Mori.”

“Todd? What?”

“I’ll finish the book soon.”

“Todd, you’re saying nonsense. Todd?”

Creek

“Hello, I’m Doctor Chase, sir. I see he’s woken up. When was this?”

“A few seconds ago. I don’t know what’s going on though.”

The doctor moved towards the hospital bed, inquisitive to what had happened, “What was happening?”

“He’s speaking but nothing he says makes sense. It’s all things that we were talking about earlier but he seems lost as if he’s still there in mind.”

“Todd, did you take any drugs this morning?”

“I sent a letter to him a few weeks ago.”

He seemed almost dissociated saying this. Was he mishearing things or did he think they were still outside, chatting like earlier? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Do you take any substances to deal with things? Todd?”

“He doesn’t take drugs. He would never.”

“Everyone thinks that about their friends yet they’re usually wrong. I used to give trouble when I was younger but I turned out alright.”

“I know him. He would never do drugs. He is the furthest from anyone who would ever do anything like that. Not everyone does drugs and he sure as hell wouldn’t.”

Yes, it may have been wrong to snap at him like that. He was worried but it was still wrong to do that. He just couldn’t imagine Todd doing such a thing. That wouldn’t be him. He would be the last person to.

“Did he go anywhere last night?”

“Not that I know of, he said he was at his desk most of the night and that he fell asleep there.”

“Did anyone come over that night?”

“What, to bring him drugs? Why are you stuck up on thinking that it was drugs and not anything else? He would never.”

“Mr Dalton. We have to make sure it isn’t. Has he had any problems like this before? Any family history?”

By now, he was stood on the other side of the room with Dr Chase, discussing the matter before a beeping went off. His eyes trailed over with Chase’s towards the bed where Todd had started shaking somewhat violently, jerking each of his limbs uncontrollably.

“Diazepam. 10 milligrams, stat.”

“What’s happening?!”

“Just taking some precautions.” Chase spoke as he turned the man on the bed to his side. “He’s seizing.”

Charlie could only stand there in shock. He could only hope that Todd was going to be okay.

“Help me hold him.” Chase announced as the other doctors entered the room. “Stay calm, mate. We’re going to calm you down.”

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“This is one of the cleanest houses we’re been through.” Cameron spoke as she opened another cabinet that had a box in it.

“There are weird amount of books though, does he own a library or something? There was a whole area either shelves of books on.”

“I think his folder said he was an author, probably just reads a lot.”

“Yeah but poetry? Who even reads that much poetry?”

“Him I guess. Why are we even going into his person life?”

“Cause House said we have to search through this guy’s home.”

They had been searching for around half a hour. Not much had been found yet but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The whole house was well taken care of besides the masses of paper in the trash cans with everything that was supposed to be taken out tomorrow.

Did these papers contain unknown information or anything needed? Best to inspect everything, that was what they came to do. Cameron decided to pick one up, it read :

’A dedication to those who helped me along the way, the Dead Poets :

Richard Cameron,
I have to give you some credit, even if you may not still be a part of the poets. You were possibly the smartest one and helped me to succeed academically. Helping with homework and understanding in learning, thank you.

Gerard Pitts,
Thank you for all the fun times we shared. The poets meeting that were always bright and fun to all. The radio that you and Meeks created that kept us all from utter silence at times and all the excitement it brought us. For the friendship we share, thank you.

Steven Meeks,
Not to sound like a broken record but again, thank you for the radio you both built, forever grateful for the times. For the friendships that last. The bond that the poets share, no matter when. Thank you for it all.

Knox Overstreet,
I’m glad to see you got the ending you deserved. I hope all is going well there. Thank you for the time we spent in school together. For all the meetings where you would pour your soul into those poems about Chris. Thank you for all the time we spent together.

Charlie Dalton,
I’m thankful we still stay in contact, hope all is going well. Thank you for the laughs during school. Your carefree attitude towards the uptight school. The times where you stood your ground to not get anyone else in trouble. For keeping us all hopeful and joyous during dull times. Thank you for it everything.

Mr. J. Keating,
Thank you for opening my eyes in your teaching. For opening my boundaries in new experiences. For being the teacher we needed but didn’t deserve. I hope everything is going better and that you are with the woman you mentioned. I hope you could continue your aspiration of teaching but in a much better place. Thank you for pushing me to do my best and be open to it all.

Neil Perry,
The first full-fledged Dead Poet. He convinced me to follow my dreams in writing and desired to read anything I wrote down. Even at the worst of my writing, he encouraged me. And even at my worst, he encouraged me. He was my dearest friend who I spent most of my time with over the year I knew him. The greatest friend I knew and the greatest actor I had ever seen. With the encouragement of our teacher, he lived that year the best that he could, ‘carpe diem’. I hope you are continuing that up there.’

A dedication for his book? It didn’t seem like much to do but it might be counted as trama which could be a sign to what the condition may be. It could be mentioned but probably didn’t need to be taken back for evidence. There was more to be explored anyhow.

“You know why House thinks I’m a druggie?” Dr Foreman spoke up from another drawer, checking through it.

“This is going to be a racial thing, isn’t it?”

“Same reason why he thinks this kid overdosed. When you’re a drug addict, you want to believe everyone else is too.

“He’s not addicted.”

“He has to take drugs. That is the definition of an addiction.”

“He’s in pain.”

“And addicted to pain killers. What a coincidence.”

There was a continuation in the search in silence for a few seconds. Not much was to be found, the whole house looked clean. This silence was then ended abruptly to..

“You really never did any drugs?”

“Now this is going to be a racial thing.”

“Oh.” Cameron was laughing with sarcasm, “Deflecting a personal question with a joke. Gee, who do I know who does that?”

“Yeah. I’m just like him. Except for the angry, bitter, pompous cripple part.”

“Maybe we should all pitch in and get you a nice cane. You already have the matching gym shoes.”

Cameron had made it towards the kitchen now, checking the cabinet just near the sink. There was mostly the regular things you would expect in there from the stores. However, one thing stood out like a soar thumb. A glass of tomato sauce.

“Check this out.” She called Foreman in from
his search. This just had to be it. “He’s not too careful with the homemade tomato sauce. When the top pop out like that, it’s a sign of bacterial contamination.” She tapped the lid where it had moved.

Foreman opened the fridge door and reached in, “This one’s open.”

Chapter Text

The door opened, but not slowly by a swing, with the shove of a cane.

“To what do I owe this displeasure, House?”

“Thanks for the sweet greeting, Wilson, how special you make me feel.”

“Yeah, lovely. Now what’s got you in my office this time? I’m sure it’s nothing with the papers I’m filling out right now.”

“Nothing to do with your boring papers. New patient, seizing.”

“Oh so your patients? It’s more on track to work than usual.”

Every sentence of theirs seemed to be filled with sarcasm or backhanded compliments. It may’ve seemed unprofessional, yes, but this is how they worked. And it worked well.

House said that he had just witnessed his patient seizing which had been unusual for someone of these symptoms to him. This also meant that his previous suspicion was wrong too, it couldn’t be drug usage. He was wrong.

This also meant he had sent his team looking for the wrong thing. They still might find other items of suspicion in their search though.

They began to discuss what it might be yet there was so much it could be.

Knock knock

“Yes, come in.” Wilson called from his desk.
It was probably something to do with his patients. However..

“House? Sorry to come all the way here, I was told I could find you here.” The person from the doorway spoke.

“Yes. Is there a reason you needed to come all the way up here and talk to me directly while I’m busy?”

This man, he seemed familiar to him. He couldn’t put his finger on it just yet. The brunette that stood just a few feet away. The way he looked. The way he stood. The way he spoke. Was he an old patient?

“Oh, no, he’s not too busy.” He tried to interrupt, allowing the worried man to speak while irritating House a bit. Maybe this would give him a bit more of a clue. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Doctor..?”

“Wilson.”

“Thank you, Doctor Wilson.”

“So, Mr Dalton, what is it?”

Dalton..?

Dalton.

It wouldn’t be. It couldn’t be. The world’s not that small. Why would he be in New Jersey? In Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital? It was just another person with that last name. There were tons of people with the last name Dalton. It wouldn’t be him.

“Sorry, Dalton?” He questioned.

“Charles Dalton, sir.” The man had introduced himself to him.

It was.

It really was.

“Well, pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you too.”

“And it is?” House interrupted, irritated from the small talk in the middle.

“He’s just seized.”

“I saw.”

Charlie seemed to ignore that he hadn’t seen him earlier when Todd had seized for the meanwhile but began again, “Is he okay?! He’s bounced back from this state before but I need to know if he’s going to be okay again. The doctor you left with him has a one track mind and won’t stop believing that it is drugs too. He keeps talking about how he did drugs and how my friend must’ve done them and not to trust my judgement on my friend. Could I please just have someone else off the team. It could be causing stress for him too. He won’t stop blaming him on doing drugs when he never would.”

“First of all, he’ll most likely be okay after this seizure if it’s one of the first. And two, I’ll send someone new into the room instead, okay? Three, when I’m not talking to you about something, it’s because there’s nothing to be said and he’s not in imminent danger. So don’t come to find where I am just to ask that.”

“Okay. Thank you. And thank you for your time too, Doctor.. Wilson.” Mr Dalton had spoke with a pause near the end as he was trying to remember Wilson’s name.

The door shut behind Dalton.

More questions were left there than answered.

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“I am extremely disappointed.” House entered the room without a greeting or a knock, as per usual. “I send you out for exciting new designer drugs, and you come back with tomato sauce. Bet you paid twice as much. I got mine online.”

Foreman ignored this blatant sarcasm to begin explaining. “Todd decided to make himself a homemade pizza for a snack.”

“Source of botulism as well as a million other toxins that cause gastroenteritis, cardiac symptoms and mental confusion.” Cameron inputted.

“I’m not so sure about gastroenteritis.” House picked up the tomato sauce with a wooden application stick. “But mental confusion, bring it on.”

House picked up a sample of the sauce and had eaten it before Cameron could interrupt.
“Don’t—what—“

“Mm. Delicious.”

“What, do you have a death wish?”

“I notice you didn’t try to save me” He spoke, turning to look at Foreman.

“I figured you were trying to make some kind of subtle point.

“I was. The patient just started seizing. Not a symptom of food-borne toxins.”

“Also not a symptom of drug use.” Foreman responded, “Not two hours after admission.”

“So, what would make him seize?” House finished the remains of the sauce left on the wooden stick. “In addition to all his other delightful symptoms.”

The began to discuss what it might’ve been. However, this was still a wide range of things that couldn’t be deciphered with their current knowledge of his symptoms. It was a back and forth of suggestions of what it could be until a different suggestion was made.

“We should wash him down. The poison could still be in his skin.” Cameron suggested.

“I already told the nurses.” House stated before leaving the room.

Chapter Text

“What was that all about?” Wilson inquired after the man left the room.

“New patient. Still don’t know what it is yet. So far suspicions of drugs or contaminated food but neither seem to be it.” House explained. “Thought you’d join with this one too since you’re just doing paperwork right now.”

“Oh, I have to finish these really soon. Cuddy wants them within 15 minutes.” This was a complete lie. “I’m sure it’ll be figured out soon.” He tried to make up an excuse to find his way out of it. He could barely stand in the same room as Charlie with the guilt, nonetheless treat someone close to him with a high chance of it all going terribly.

“You? Not helping someone with a possibly fatal disease? That’s a new one. He could be at his death bed and you’d just be sitting at your desk.” House tried to irritate him just as usual. He always liked to push people’s buttons to see when they’d crash.

Wilson had begun to debate at this point. This was just going to be one of Charlie’s college friends and all he’d have to deal with it hoping Charlie didn’t recognise him.

He wanted Charlie to know it was him. He wanted Charlie to know. But for the sake of ‘Neil Perry’s Death’, he needed to stay unseen by anyone who knew his previous life. It wasn’t up to him. It would all go down the drain if he did. Neil was legally dead. It was just Wilson now.

“Fine.”

______________
————————————

Charlie had arrived back in the room around a quarter of an hour ago. He was still worried, Todd hadn’t made a stir since the seizure. Dr Chase was there too, leaving Charlie to hope that earlier was left behind them and that they would hopefully stop disagreeing and bickering.

The heart monitor beeped slowly in the background.

Beep Beep Beep

It kept in pace though so at least there was that. Could this visit have gone any worse? He just hoped Todd was okay. At least he was there when this happened and he wasn’t alone. His boss would sure enough understand that he had to stay there -hopefully at least.

“He’s been in this medication for over an hour, do you know if it’s helping?” Charlie questioned to Chase who was stood near the monitor.

“Pralidoxime is very effective, it just takes a little time for it to kick in.”

“But what if it’s not a pesticide and it goes wrong?” Charlie asked, worried about the effects it may have if it was an incorrect medication.

“The bloodwork was pretty conclusive. It’s an organophosphate.”

Beep Beep.

Both their eyes turned towards the monitor that started to create a different beeping noise. This one, didn’t sound so great. It was a warning sign in itself.

“Move back-“

“Oh my god.” Charlie interrupted without realising or really acknowledging anything else going on but the monitor and Todd

“Mr Dalton, move away.” Dr Chase warned him as many doctors rushed in.

“We’re at thirty. Bradycardic arrest ge-“

The rest of it all blurred into one in his mind. The words all sounded the same.

Why wasn’t he better? What was wrong with him? Would he survive?

He didn’t like to think about any of them but it was all that he could think of. Doubt swallowed his thoughts whole. This was the third time. It still hadn’t managed to be fixed. He wasn’t getting any better at all; if anything, it had been worse.

He couldn’t bare to see it. He couldn’t bare to see any of it. His hands covered his eyes, searching through the cracks between his fingers for any bit of hope that could be seen. Yet there was none there. The room was cloaked in panic and distress.

No one had a clue, no one knew what to do but just keep him alive for now and hope for later.

Slowly, his ears came back to their senses as the room came to a hush. This might’ve been bad however the beeping seemed as it was back to its regular state. Todd was fine for now it looked. The doctors slowly filed out the room after the relief of keeping the patient alive.

Charlie stood next to Todd’s limp, close to lifeless body, “I can’t take this anymore.”

“We’ll keep him on the pads for another hour.”

“Then what?”

“Let’s see what happens.”

“But the last three times we’ve had that it hadn’t worked.” Charlie tried to not get worked up and angry at the doctor again, “I’d just like to know what his options are.”

Charlie was annoyed at the least that he had to ask about other options. He truly trusted that the doctors could figure it out, however, they had it wrong the last few times. How could he put his trust in that? He needed to know what could be done. He wanted to know if there was any way he could help. He couldn’t help but feel guilt, even if all of it had nothing to do with him. There must be something that he was able to do to help.

He had to do something, anything.

Chapter Text

Discussions had passed through the room beforehand. There was still not confident answer on what it may be within their previous conversation. Many ideas had been passed about and pushed aside. This left House with what he did not want to have to do.

He left a knock on the door with a man opening it within a few seconds, standing just by the doorway.

“You know I do actually have patients and work to do too.” Wilson folded his arms.

“Don’t see one in there.” House pointed out. “You weren’t busy enough not to answer the door either.”

Wilson rolled his eyes at this remark, “So what do you want then? Besides to sidetrack whatever I’m doing.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” House spoke with sarcasm through each word.

“Yes. I actually would so that I can get on with it?”

“Well,” House began, taking an empty seat as his own for now. “You know that whole case you said you’d help with.”

“Your current one, yes?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, I need you to come with to investigate the patient’s house for possible causes of it. Get some new, and frankly better, sets of eyes around the place to inspect it.” House added, taking a spin in the chair.

“So you come into my office, take my chair and want me to come invade a random person’s privacy just cause you want someone to come with for your little escapade?”

“Pretty much. Got any problems you want to nitpick or are you going to come along like you agreed to?” He’s lifted his lefts atop of the desk, leaning back into the chair.

“Nitpicking sounds fun, what about that?” Wilson teased at him as House would usually. “I didn’t offer to research through their house anyways. I said I’d help but I never agreed to that.”

Wilson wasn’t the biggest fan of home research, for some reason it just left invasive, even if it was for a good cause. And above this, it felt especially invasive with him knowing someone that the patient was pretty close to. It felt stalker-like, that’s what it felt like.

“Doesn’t sound particularly fun. Let’s just go with my second idea.” House paused. “You agreed about a possibly dying patient, who’s currently in between seizures, that you would help out. Doesn’t that include searching for the cause? But if you really don’t want to, he can just pass away from his next seizure I guess.” House shrugged, knowing what he was doing. And god, he loved to fray people’s nerves for the sake of it.

Wilson stood with a blank look on his face. He knew what House was doing, he always did this. Testing them, testing their patience. Who long until they would just agree with him. It always worked though, he always managed to mess with everyone.

“God, fine.” Wilson agreed, annoyed but he didn’t have enough energy to put up with his nonsense right now. “I’ll go, are you happy?”

“Extremely. Happy as Larry.” House responded without a single change in tone.

He stood with his arms folded as he bickered with House. He didn’t want to have to pick through whoever’s home it was but he needed to if he were to help. House really did get in his head. It was all sarcasm and mind games with House (even if his sector wasn’t phycology).

He’d had a long enough day as it was. One of his patients wasn’t looking the best and he’d just got given another folder to add to the pile. It was never a good time having a patient unwell, not knowing if they’ll recover and they’ll pass in your own care. When you were meant to keep them alive and fail, never letting them continue from where their lives abruptly paused. He didn’t want another patient passing due to him. Not if he could help.

Chapter Text

The house was beginning to look abandoned. A plate of food could be spotted as soon as you walked in on the kitchen counter. It slowly had rotted over time, leaving the smell roaming through the home.

Hopefully the conditions of the house hadn’t changed just yet due to the time it had been left as areas needed to be tested for possible exposure to anything that could be causing the illness.

Frankly, this all felt invasive as it was. Less than he thought it would be but nonetheless, invasive. There wasn’t many family photos up, nothing he could spot across the walls but a few pieces of art here and there latched on with nails in which slowly began to fall forward over the years of use.

“Wilson,” House followed up behind him, “You take those rooms down there, I’ll check the kitchen, living room and garden.” The man had ordered him to follow along with these tasks.

“Alright.” he just got on with it. There was no need to bicker since he was already there. Not much else to do but comply.

As he headed to the hallway through the living room he noticed a bunch of scrapped paper sprawled across the place. The floor was littered with the crumpled sheets lying all over it.

The doors had been left ajar, clearly expecting to arrive back later in no need to shut them for now. Most had been left to the same respect as the owner of the house had left it.

Not much was to be found in the bedroom of the household. A few family photos in small frames. In the biggest frame was what looked to be a family photo with an older man and woman surrounding a younger man with what seemed to be a younger brother by the side of him. They were all in their fanciest dress clothes beside the one stood in a graduation outfit, diploma in hand. These were the normal sorts of photos found in any household. Proud moments captured in a camera lense.

Not too much was within the bedroom so he moved towards the office. The office, however was crowded with stuff all around the room. To the left of the door was a string board filled with post-its, aligning notes of what looked like nonsense across it. It looked to be a storyline so he pushed it aside as not much to worry about.

The desk that lay against the wall was even more scattered with notes and paper than the living room. What looked to be key plot points that had no reason for his snooping, it wasn’t as if they would contain anything important.

The rest of desk was still under inspection though. The top drawer contained an array of sorts. A half-finished packet of gum made to help on focusing, stationary of many different types (even if it was mostly pens) and a tiny notebook or two to name a few. A clanking noise came from the drawer as it shut yet again.

The one below thought was not one to move so easily; it happened to be locked. What was to be in there was either private or a high chance to be what had caused it if it needed to be left behind lock and key. If he was to find this key, it might be wrong but it was for the best.

Shelves aligned with books covered the back wall of the already cramped office. Many bestsellers sat at the peak point of the shelving, right in the centre with sunlight beaming onto it mid-afternoon. They looked to be first-addition in good quality. Books of poems sat behind it and he only let himself reminisce for second before briefly moving on.

The key has laid amongst the desktop the whole time and this left him to pick it up in wonder if what was to be hiding behind the lock. A twist of the key was to answer it all, yet, when it happened it answered nothing at all. It only just left him with more questions than before.

Chapter Text

Stacks of letters? All of them perfectly in their packaging. They didn’t even look opened. How odd?

Every single last bit of information to be found about them needed to be searched though so here goes to that. There was a high chance that it was work letters or mail from those who’ve read his work.

The turn of the top envelope revealed a name to him; ‘Neil’, neatly written with a pen in cursive. So the patient’s name was Neil? Nothing they didn’t already have on the files. Funny that, though. Small world, isn’t it? Or just common names.

None of them contained addresses on them though, how odd? How did they even get delivered? Maybe it could be a letter from a doctor given directly to him but in an envelope to be discrete?

The paper unfolded as it left its packaging. Scrawn and smudged handwriting and warped splotches reached across the page. The one he had reached for was from the bottom of the stack to hopefully start from the beginning. Making out what had been seen the best he could, he read :

’Neil,

It’s been around a year since you left. I never thought I was to be writing anything like this but I can’t bear leaving my thoughts just as they are. Knox believed this to be a good idea, I wasn’t too sure of it but I followed along. He’s not a man of many words now but not many of us are. I couldn’t tell you about Charlie,’

This all seemed too familiar. How much could a coincidence of this be? It was oddly similar to a story he knew himself so much that it became off putting. Wilson took a quick breather before continuing.

’however, he no longer is welcome to Welton after his stunt.’

Welton? As in, Welton?
No.
Nononono.
His thoughts began to spiral, it wasn’t one of his friends from Welton? It couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be.
His eyes drew back to the paper, apprehensive, his face completely still yet his breath deepening as he moved from word to word.

’All that was driving him was passion and dread, it was all that was thriving through his mind when he punched Cameron. He didn’t mean to do it in complete honesty, he couldn’t think straight. Expulsion was cast upon him and for the rest of us it only left an ever-standing impact. A constant hush where your warm words of joy filled the empty, emotionless halls of the school. The absence of Dalton didn’t particularly help either. Your remark still lingers through my soul. The kind words of encouragement you spoke.
You’d never be able to guess what had arrived for my birthday this year. Yet another desk set. I threw it off the balcony again as if you were there like the last. I lurked there for a while after just to let the feeling soak in. The joy of that day, the impact it left on me. Finally feeling like I was worth more than $5.98, worth more than my family’s respect. If only I could’ve told you the words I wish I had said. The bliss you emanated in the most depressing of states such as the school. The humour you shared with all that could cheer anyone up in any point. Your sense of rebellion when it came to good causes.
But of all the words I wish I had said most, I love you are the ones I really wish I had spoke.
The only ones I can speak of now is I miss you and I hope your amiable soul rests in peace.

In good faith,
Todd Anderson’

Todd.

Wilson froze there, breath almost stopping altogether.

Tears slowly stained the paper; not for the first time, however, these weren’t left by the man who wrote it for once.

Chapter Text

He’d managed to pull himself back together before he overheard the familiar sound of a cane across the floor heading closer.

“It’s disulfoton. The pesticide.” House paused. “He used to the whole can. I’ve already sent a call to Chase though so you can head right back to the office if you’d please. You’ve completed your ‘community service’.” He mocked.

“Right. Yeah.” he could just tell that House had noticed that something was up but frankly never wished to ask, rather just disregard it.

He pulled himself off the ground with the surface of the desk. Straightening his clothes off, he had left the room in the same state he had entered; besides a mysteriously disappeared, crinkled envelope.

At least the cause had been found. This would all be solved, no matter how ethical the practices usually were. He couldn’t take this on, it was complete nonsense treating someone he knew personally. However, this couldn’t be explained to his co-workers and above that all, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t leave this man’s life just in House’s hands. He trusted him to do enough of the right thing but not when his uneasiness was getting the better of him.

There was nothing to do but oversee it all.
It was like a car crash, you just couldn’t look away no matter how much you wished to.

The way to back had been close to silent, or much dissimilar from the way up though. What had brought him to this? This miserable, wretched existence of a future he never wished for. His hope, his passion, all deprived from him that horror of a night.

It had all been perfect as could be; the applause echoed his head now and again, even now. Suddenly swept away to the car in which he was never to see a single one of his dear friends (at least up until now).He had just one option on the tables:
Oblige his father’s orders in a military-esk school in which he would learn to become a doctor just as he planned.

He never would’ve chosen this, but this wasn’t a choice.

His father had spread rumours around ‘his son’s suicide’ just to spite the school that ‘did not monitor his son enough’. These were used specifically to defy Mr Keating who, in his eyes, ‘indoctrinated his son towards this flowsy acting business that he was never to join if not influenced’.

From then on, his father changed his legal name and he was canned to a military-like school in which then went on to acquiring the qualifications to his current job. All his joy, all his whimsy. Gone. Disappeared. Never to have existed in the first place.

By now, he was beginning to forget the person he had once been. A precious kid with a dream, a passion.

He alleviated the tears from his eyes by collecting them with his index in the corner of his eyes to not openly display that he was on the verge of tears.

“C’mon slow coach, got lives to save and whatever.” House continued along the path as they arrived to the hospital.

All he had to do was get his head straight. With all the observations and appointments he had today, he would most certainly need a clear mind.

“What’s got you in a tizz? Wish you’d never agreed to volunteer.” House teased, looking back towards him.

He pushed the door by on his was in, “Leave it, House.”

“Someone’s hair gel ran out this morning.” House continued.

“I said leave it, House! You never listen to that, do you? You wait to see when people crack, when they won’t deal with your pettiness. You’re an asshole, you know that. I’m done with this.” Wilson left House stood at the entrance, irked.

He was done with this, all of this. Every single last bit of this. Futile. Pointless. He was headed back to his folders of patients and that was that. No further discussion.

Yet, by the time he made it to his open and empty office, all he managed to do was sob. The lack of any happiness, all clinical. Shelves of spaces in which may have once been filled with achievements or family photos of the previous tenant now barren.

He may often question what was the reason for where he ended up but it all came to the same conclusion of helping others, benefitting others lives. Yet, this never benefitted his. That would be utterly selfish to focus on though, at least in his train of mind.

No matter what he did, he still was responsible to return to the close to lifeless corpse of a man that he knew, knew very well, in hopes to treat him. He couldn’t lean this to House by himself, there was not much more of a choice. There was no certainty that he could bear it all though, it could easily all go south - no matter how well he maintained his stability.

Chapter Text

House had just managed to catch the patient’s friend while he was reticent enough to talk reasonably. Frankly, he couldn’t completely infer on why he needed all these pieces of signed off paperwork. However, the man whom needed to sign was eager for Todd to receive any help from the doctors, which somehow was unusual for House to an extent. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised that at least one carer was compliant but it always seemed to be part of the contract at this point.

Careening down the window-filled halls, he managed to spot the person he’d been looking for; Cameron.

“Start him on the Hydrolase.”

“No.” She paused. “We’ve got a problem.”

______________
————————————

Coincident, they stared through the window towards the seizing patient being held down my many doctors with an ambit of equipment. It all looked too similar to much he had overlooked beforehand.

“His name’s Chi Ling. He was admitted twelve minutes ago. Identical symptoms as Todd.”

The room from within was high tension, wonder lurking on whether the patient would even make it.

“Todd’s next door neighbour by any chance?” House questioned in hopes that it may conclude some sort of answer.

“They live ten miles apart. Apparently they don’t even know each other.”

This left House with even more puzzled. Yet, it was once step further to a possible answer; there was always that. For the most he knew, there was no correlation between either of them but their conditions. Did it even have anything to do with possible contagiousness or could it just be genetics?

This all lead him to the same place as always - Wilson’s office. It was much better to think in there, spitball ideas and such. A swing of the door with his free hand only to be met on the other side with mournful eyes of a man who had looked as if he’d lost someone dear yet the artless expression painted across the remains of his face. This was much up until he tuned into the singing door hinges with a crass expression towards House.

“What do you want.” Wilson uttered coldly towards him.

“Apparently nothing from you.” He paused. “What’s got you so uptight. Usually you can take a bit more teasing than this.” He scoffed a remark.

“I already told you to leave me be. Do you want me to have to get Cuddy to usher you out with a broomstick?” Wilson jeered at him in a joking way it looked.

“Someone was recently admitted with the same conditions as the recent patient. Incase you want to help instead of sulking.” House added. “Yet, they have close to nothing in common besides that. Ten miles away from each other and haven’t seen one another before.”

Silence rang throughout the room with thought lingering through the air. In ways, it was a miracle that this approach had managed to convince Wilson but it didn’t look to be because of it at all. An inner thought, motive, that House couldn’t quite put his finger on. While he was lost on this though, it wasn’t priority. Conspiracies on possible causes may be fun to dabble in but were not to be distracted by.

House interrupted the silence, “The condition only seems to be worse with each case, the most recently admitted wasn’t too certain to survive by many standards. Something drastic needs to be done soon and with haste.”

Wilson’s eyes only diverted to a clock across the wall as if it’d never been there before. “Well, I should head off. Meeting with Cuddy in a few minutes.”

Undesired to follow along to this meeting, House only placed his shoes atop the desk and laid back into the chair.
And just like that, the door slowly inched back to the frame as he left it to slowly rejoice. However, Wilson had headed a different way from the office’s direction (or at least a slower way).

This was none of his business anyhow. If he genuinely did announce this just to leave the room, it was reasonable enough. There was nothing to follow up on. House remained within the chair, listening to the clock slowly tick time away whilst deliberating on the matter at hand.

Chapter Text

He just kept walking and walking. Wilson wouldn’t let this get to him, couldn’t let this get to him. House was constantly on his back around this all and he just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

By now, he had only now recognised that he was on route not even towards Cuddy’s office. While that may’ve been a distraction to allow himself to leave, he should’ve made it in the slightest convincing.

Not a single thought was happening on where he was ending up until he stopped right there. Just outside the room of his own downfall. What he couldn’t stand to see yet only just managed to peek past the window.

From all he had seen was dismal enough to last a lifetime yet he hadn’t managed to see the half of it. There was the man, the one he had recognised in his office. Slumped into a chair, head in his hands. Hopeless.

Not a single thought processed as he paced towards the entrance. Every single last brain cell he contained was telling him no yet there was something else that lead him towards the room. A longing to see his past for one more time.

There was no argument at all, he was in the wrong. But his heart couldn’t stop leading him.

“Excuse me, Mr Dalton. Are you alright?” he took the chair next to the man, keeping his eyes majorly focused on him or the floor to not catch sight of the unbearable image across the room.

Charlie slowly lifted his head, glancing towards Wilson. “It’s just.. difficult.” He paused. “I hardly manage to visit him from Vermont so I haven’t seen him much since school and I don’t know how much time he had left. I just hope for the most of it that he’s okay.” he spoke through chokes of tears that unwillingly escaped.
“Since eleventh grade, it’s not been the same. We both lost someone really dear to us.”

Wilson couldn’t help the guilt seeping through him. This wasn’t fair, not at all. Everything all the poets endured, all the everlasting trauma, yet all he had to do was medical procedures and working aside House.

“It’s sorta funny in a way, you look somewhat like him.” Charlie looked away, “Sorry, I see him in a lot of people. It always feels as if he’s there but it’s just another passing face yet again.”

“No, it’s.. it’s okay. I understand.” Wilson responded, keeping thought on each of his words.

“I would give anything to speak to him again. Anything at all. Any of the poets would. It was if the world crashed down after. It might as well have.” Charlie gradually began to tear up again. “If Todd doesn’t make it, he’ll at least have someone to greet him in Heaven.”

This was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Wilson sobbed, lifting his hand to cover his anguished eyes. He couldn’t take it. He was the reason for this all. He was at the core of it and yet he couldn’t fix it. He could never mend the harm he caused the poets and now the condition is which had stricken Todd. What had he done?

Charlie faced towards him in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s all my fault.” Wilson let out a few words in his wavering voice. Not a single one of these words had been processed through his mind beforehand, speaking solely his thoughts without a particular filter of what was wrong or right.

Charlie was only left more puzzled than before, “What is?”

“Nuwanda..”

Within the following seconds, he followed through four of the five stages of grief exclusively from the singular word spoken.

“No.” Charlie only failed to collect his thoughts. “You don’t get to call me that you bastard!”
He paused yet again to try to think slightly rationally, still only able to let his emotions take over but calm down a bit. “They said you died. They said you killed your self that night! What is this? Some kind of cruel joke?! Leave!”

All he wanted to do was explain. Explain that this is never was what he desired either. That he had no choice in this.
But Charlie was definite on this. There was no time to disclose the reality of what had happened that night. How he had in actuality pulled that trigger yet missed. How he was sent away without a say.

“I said leave!” The man pointed demandingly towards the door, enmity lurking throughout his soul.

This was no time to explain. This was no time to argue. He wished to make this no worse than he already had.

He shut the door behind him the gentlest he could with his current state, remorseful as he had ever could have been.

It had all spilled right there. Everything. Things never meant to be spoken to the public. Secrets only his government forms and close family had known. It felt releasing in a sense but not in a good way. It could’ve gone much better if it ever were to have happened, but none of these endings were relatively good anyhow. He was never destined to see any poet once again - at least in the name they would know him as.

No matter how much he desired to, it was never meant to be and he knew that. He still managed to mess that up which was the real cherry to add to the top of the ‘I screwed up’ cake. He was no longer ‘Neil Perry’ but he still couldn’t accept that. He wanted it all back but let his feelings get the best of him and ruin every single last bit of his old friends’ lives.

He needed quiet. He needed to think. He needed to be alone. The only place left to go was an empty check-up room at this point with House in his office. So he sat there and just sobbed. Why didn’t he just listen to his dad’s demands to start off with? Why did he have to be a doctor? Why did he have to live this fake life that was never his to begin with?

Chapter Text

Splashing water on his face might’ve been the best thing he’d done all day. It was refreshing, comforting, erasing the tears stained upon his face. There wasn’t much competition on the best thing he’d done all day though. So far it had all become dismal ever since that home search.

He hadn’t heard much of the case since he’d left towards the empty check-up room but he wasn’t inclined to follow up on it any more than he had.

Unsure of the time in which had passed, he wanted to direct himself out the room towards his own, in hopes that House would’ve left in boredom by then, but somehow ended up at the doors of someone else’s office, knocking gradually.

“Wilson?” Cuddy questioned, wondering as of why he was at her door for. Hope in her eyes were pleading that this wasn’t to do with House once again. Thankfully, it wasn’t exactly just House this time.

“I want myself off of House’s case. Personal reasons.” He paused, trying to maintain clear eye contain without the distortment of tears. “If he asks for me could you let him know that I’m no longer compliant to the agreement.”

“What did he do now?” she folded her arms in annoyance, knowing that this was (yet again) a House problem; at least from what she’d heard. It was a common occurrence so what to do but expect the expected.

“Nothing. Personal reasons.”

She was rolling her eyes by now. “He causes aggravation constantly. I’d rather you tell me now than the hospital get sued for malpractice.”

“It’s to do with the patient okay. Old fr-colleague.” He tried to keep the explanation, and overall anything, short and simple to leave the conversation at it was.

“Okay. I’ll let him know your agreement’s off.” She took a second on a thought that had occurred to her. “He shouldn’t be roping you into his team’s work however, you have your own and he has his. Unless this is a problem to do with your area of practice.”

“Not a bit.” He nodded his head slightly before finally heading the other way. This time being able to use his brain instead of his feelings to direct him as he always had.

As he always tried to remind himself, it was imperative to leave his feeling out of his work when dealing with possibly dying patients every single day. There was no time to become properly friends with clients when if he didn’t treat them correctly he would deal the emotional consequences. He’d done that before. Plenty.
There was no time to get influenced by connections to others when it could all end the same.

This, however, was a different version. The relation was built years and years ago, pre-established under a ‘different person’’s name. If his emotions influenced him once again, he would be the reason. The sole reason for the passing of a friend. He was more than a friend, at least to him when they’d known each other. The man he had, and unwilling to admit the feeling was unaltered, loved. He did. And still does.

It was wrong. All the suffering he may’ve inflicted onto him only to continue. The best he could do for him at this point was to leave him in the hands of those to who had best interest. The people who merely knew him as another medical case to solve.

Beep Beep Beep

The blaring noise appeared from a room just across from his with his first instinct to run in following through without a second thought.

“Patient’s seizing! Nurses! Anyone!” He frantically yalped out towards the hallway whilst checking the frequently dropping numbers. A crew of staff entered to assist the patient upon hearing the monitor’s distress.

Chapter Text

“Numbers are dropping.”
“Diazepam, stat.”

The murmurs of others voices slowly became softer as a distance formed between him and the room. A dragging feeling coarsed across his arm from his wrist. It was as almost dislocating with his own resisting force against it. The odd feeling shoe marks skidded across the recently cleaned floor. Not a single grip of his shoe even allowed friction with the ceramic tiles.

The haste finally halted around the corner towards his office.

“Oh, ‘taking yourself off the case’, huh?” House starred at him with a challenging look. “Very convincing. Just as convincing as you ‘not’ running in to save him, right?”

“What the hell House! He’s dying out there. You can’t jus-“

“I can.” House interrupted. “The nurses have got it. Do you not trust them? You sure like them enoug-“

“He needs all the help he can get.”

“The why’d you leave the case?” House cut in coldly.

“Personal reason.”

“You told me that the other month so that I would be careful with them but you hardly knew them besides when you met in the hospital just then. What actually is it?”

“I knew him in high school, okay?”

“Yeah, right.” He snarkly responded.

“What do you want? Stone cold evidence?”

“Sure. Tell me. I love hearing your new excuses. They’re like story times for me.” House paused, “Fiction.”

“Just tell me the truth, Wilson.” House continued. “Chase too picky? Cameron into you? Foreman.., just Foreman?”

Wilson continued to stand silent as the only thing that would usually shut House up was himself.

“Boned the patient?” House let that one sit just for irony of Wilson’s past, just to tease him. “Oh you so have.”

“No House! He’s never even been awak- actually that’s far out of the point. I wouldn’t do that as a general statement.” He defended himself towards House’s absurd ideas before he stirred even further.

“Talk to patient number three, seven and eight. Or cause he’s a man? Don’t think I’m fooled, I’ve seen you look as I’ve walked away.”

“No! What?! I don’t- Why would-“ He stopped trying to process what House had claimed and switched back to the original note after that abruption of the conversation. “You’re being insane! You really can’t trust me or anything I say? You can’t trust anyone for God’s sake!”

“Correct. Because people lie. To protect their precious information like anyone gives two cares.” House turned around towards the elevator before stepping in. “And by the way, seem less defensive, it’s a tell-tale sign.”

And just like that, the door shut. Wilson’s mouth left agape as if he was about to speak before the abrupt cut off.

God, now House thought he used to have certain relations with him. God, how worse could this get?

Of course this all had to just happen. Damned to eternally be intertwined with the man he used to know: at least for however long ‘eternity’ was to be.

Two sides of the same coin, persistently flipped by the universe for their own fate.

Chapter Text

Seizures.

The marker slowly scraped across the whiteboard that stood within his room. Staring at the conditions on the board barely helped though. Nothing made sense.

There was already a whole group of highly trained professionals working on this case, how was he meant to solve it just by himself? He didn’t exactly know but what he did know is that he’d figure out something. Anything at all. Any new lead. As long as it helps.

Examine the board, re-examine.

It still became no clearer in any sense the longer he stared. It slowly grew more blurry the more time spent, wincing his eyes to readjust ever so often.

If he spitballed ideas line the team did, maybe that’d work? Every last possibility he thought of was to be scribbled in red ink across the board.

’Pesticides ingested in the food.’?
The food in his fridge had already been tested, hadn’t it?
’Pesticides inside the home’?
No, they’d already searched his home, twice.

Every scribble of red ink was lined out just as quick as it had been put there. The board was close to full with random words and the odd diagnosis crossed out.

Only somewhat managing to spot Cuddy and flip the board to the empty side just before she entered was reassuring. The irregular few times she’d stop by to check on what people were doing after berating House on yet another durable offence.

Once she left. it was right back to the task at hand. Yet, slowly the sun came to dawn. Whilst he only began at lunch, it had turned from minutes to hours in the blink of an eye. The marker barely moved anymore, seeming almost glued to the table at this point.

This was until Wilson moved out of his chair to take a closer look. And god, how was he going to get any closers to an answer - any answer at all? Standing inches away from the problem to which he could not wrap his thoughts around he cursed himsel-

“So you did bone him.”

“What on earth House?!”

“Sorry, bit too blunt for your sake? Thought you’d be used to that by now.”

He continued to make his way through further into the room only to see Wilson awkwardly locating himself in the middle of a messy whiteboard.

“I didn’t bone him. What are you on about?!” Wilson took a gaze towards House’s constantly unoccupied hand which currently grasped a manila folder in annoyance from the teasing. “Did you finally pick up a patient’s folder?”

House tiredly responded, “Not his. Yours.”

What?! Was hat even legal? Yet of course, he didn’t care about malpractice or legality of anything.
“So you,” he paused to take it all in, “continued to skip clinic duty, left a dying patient once again - not even to research - and looked through my medical records just to interfere with my life.”

“Yeah, my own little guilty pleasure.” House gave his common snarky, sarcastic look towards Wilson, just to get on his nerves.

(he finds a file under neil perry and searched up and name and what school he went to and how wilson never mentioned his high school by name but just jokes about them being together

“Why do you have my medical records?!” Wilson was completely out of it. Why on earth was he looking through personal files- Nevermind. It’s House. Why would he not?

“Ask your eyebags.”

Thanks.

House continued without much more of a response from the ocnocologist besides a sigh. “I followed through your files.. care to mention why a person called ‘Neil Perry’’s medical records are within here?” a smug look spread across the man’s face.
Of course this was his resolution. Personal files. He should’ve guessed.

“Must have been mixed up then. I think he’s down at the clinic if you need to find him.” He claimed, knowing damn well House would never go down there without being forced.

“Rightt.” House seemed unconvinced. “Maybe I could ask Dalton? He may know if he’s in the hospital.”

“He wouldn’t.” Wilson spoke though gritted teeth. He wouldn’t really blame him if he told House. He had every right to.

“And he didn’t.”
He didn’t?

“Claimed Neil had died a few years ago back in Vermont.”

“Oh.” While Wilson tried to seem sad to hear the ‘news’, he couldn’t help but to look confused. Why did Charlie cover for him?

“Interesting how his file ended up here.” House paused, “So I decided to search up what happened in the incident out of, yknow, morbid curiosity.” House continued to ramble on, hoping the man stood across from him would admit everything without having to continue through the whole story of how he was ‘right’.

“Even the school website has a memorial. Said he was in a path to be the valedictorian and dreamed to be a docto-“

“I never wanted to be a doctor!”
Oh god.

“Took you long enou-“

“What? Does that stop your invasion of people’s privacy?” Wilson gave up with him, “You think everything’s a game, don’t you? Everything’s a puzzle that you have to solve.”

“You lied.”

“I had to!” Wilson’s eyes followed back to the man in front of him. “Do you think I wanted to leave the life I had? Forget all my friends?”

“Friends. Yeah, sure.” House rolled his eyes and he could just tell what he was thinking about.

“What?! That’s what your on about? All this just to get to the bottom of why I don’t want to work on the case? Maybe it was because of you. It should’ve been because of you.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“Does that matter?! Apparently it does to you. Fine. We used to be close and maybe I liked him a bit more than that if you’re so persistent on it. Is that what you wanted?”
The realisation hit him. After all these years he just then admitted it to someone and it just had to be him.

“Taking all the fun out of my treasure hunt. I was just about to find the ‘x’ but I guess I already found him.” House was already mostly out the door by the time he’d finished his sentence as a buzz had come from the man’s pager. And god, Wilson was regretting his impulsive actions.

Why did he always enable him. It wasn’t even a question, it was a concern. Of course, out of anyone, it just had to be House. He was screwed. He was so screwed.

Chapter Text

Coffee.
It was the last thing keeping him awake at this point and he was debating whether leaving his office for it was even worth it to a point to lose the fleeting time. Especially since the nearest coffee pot was in the team’s office.

“Are you alright?” The brunette woman seemed somewhat concerned to notice his dishevelled look.

“Don’t need to be subtle with it. Unless you’re trying to become the next Mrs.” Snark seeped through the greying man’s voice while Cameron rolled her eyes. He turned towards Wilson. “You look like shit.”

“Well I’m not the one carrying laundry detergent into work. There’s a certain point of desperation where you have to wash your clothes in the laundry department where all the potentially hazardous patient’s clothes are.”

“It’s the patient’s detergent. You’d know if you got over yourself.”

“What do you mean ‘got over yourself’?” Foreman cut in.

“Well if he stopped sucking so many co-“

Wilson cut him off, “God’s sake, House! Do you ever shut that mouth of yours?”

“Make me.”

Even with his coffee not yet finished seeping, he decided he was done with this. However, a cane cut him off mid-pace.

“Nuh uh uh. Not so fast Mr Loverman. Foreman had a question.”

“You seemed keen to answer it, so why don’t you?” He tried to move past but House stood his ground.

“Can you just let him go? We have a case to work on?” the blonde spoke up from the table.

“Chase has some sense, see.”

“Chase never makes any sense. He’s too busy caring over the queen.”

“I’m not even British!”

“Then drop that accent?” House looked the direction of his cane blocking the door only to see it shaking. “Trying to knock down a cane of someone who needs it? You really are insensitive.”

“Just let him leave, House.” The brunette woman finally gave up on him, peering through a file.

“Finee moommm.” House mockingly whinged as if he were a child, letting the cane fall to the ground once again.

“Thank you.” Wilson sighed, looking gratefully towards the group around the table.

The coffee definitely wasn’t worth it. At least House’s team had learned not to trust the man when it came to his crazy claims such as what he almost spoke. It wasn’t true; it never was.

Re-entering the room with the same mindset as before - to find out the cause.

Marker ink stained into the once clean whiteboard to never be erased.

He lay across his couch with hopes that it could calm his mind in the slightest in order to think easier.

______________
————————————

“James!”

Oh gosh, oh gosh. What had he done now?

Reluctantly opening his eyes, he was met with Cuddy. Frustrated Cuddy.

“Where have you been?! You completely missed a patient while you’ve been sleeping on your couch!” She called him out on his accidental actions before sighing with a disappointed yet sympathetic look, “I had to schedule her in for later today with an apology. I know with everything happening, it’s a lot but you can’t just not sleep and ignore patients. Go grab some lunch before the next appointment.”

“But-“

“No, James. There’s no point in jeopardising your health for another doctor’s patient, even if you do know them. It’s affecting your own patients too but mostly you. Go get lunch and come back to it later if needed.”

“Fine.” He let a small smile shine though, appreciative.

______________
————————————

However, when Wilson entered lunch he was frankly astonished. House hadn’t taken an early lunch as he usually did. The table they claimed as their own, completely barren.

It was reassuring - no one there to bother him. One serene lunchtime, especially after his display earlier.

“And that’s on..?” The lunch staff spoke, snapping Wilson out of his thought. He wasn’t too sure when he even made it to the front of the line.

“Oh, uhm, Wilson.” He noticed the staff’s confused expression when seeing the tab. God, House really needed to stop ordering under his name. Not today though. Not today. Today was a new day from the last.

Heading to the table felt like a breeze. No snarky comments, no food stolen. It hadn’t been like this is quite some time.

Picking at his food with the plastic cutlery that the hospital provided, the only thing he needed to check was the clock rather than missing chips. He only planned to take a small break but still, Cuddy was right, this is what he needed.

In around fifteen minutes, he’d decided he was nearly done with lunch and that he should head back towards his office. He picked up the tray when-

“James.” Cuddy followed up to him, speed-walking.

“Yes?”

He turned around only to meet a solemn look on her face, noticing how she didn’t know how to preface her words. “I’m sorry.. do you want to say goodbye?”

Chapter Text

“Can you stop standing there like a lost child and get back to the case?” Foreman inquired of the man who stared out the glass walls.

“Five more minutes dadd.” He whined like a kid, knowing no matter the answer he would stand his ground.

“House, he’s not going to come back on a random Tuesday.” An Australian accent called out from the table.

“Well if the head of oncology can go off and not do his job for a few months, what says another head of department can’t for fifteen minutes.”

The brunette woman interjected, “House, that’s not what it’s abou-“

“What is it about? And don’t even suggest the case from months ago cause he barely knew him. It’s been months, he should be over it.” House just shrugged his shoulders, sick of having no one to joke with or tease.

“House, his friend passed.” She tried to get him to sympathise with the situation of it all.

“So what, it’s been a while. He’s just letting his own time go to waste by letting time pass just grieving over something instead of doing anything useful.”

“Just give him some more time, okay? You’re letting useful time pass too by standing there.”

House exhaled, looking back to the board, “Fine.”

“Finally.” Foreman earned a glare from the man heading towards the board.

______________
————————————

‘Maybe things could’ve been different.’

The leaves drained of color as they flocked to the surface. The only other thing that contained movement in that movement was James; slowly falling back aside the bench again. He barely deserved to sit across the mulch - nevertheless the comfort of a bench.

He swiped the dust off the headstone that managed to form over the time-being, allowing the name to be stated once again;
‘Todd Anderson’.

It was bone-chilling. In no version of the future did he believe he would be sat here and it finally dawned on him how his friends felt all those years. Maybe this is what karma had coming for him. Fate falling right back in its place.

All those years back, the thought he’d passed. The events transpiring afterwards. This was only what was coming for him. He could’ve just complied with his father at Welton, maybe then none of this would have happened. He could’ve studied more, become a better doctor. Maybe then he would’ve discovered what was the man had caught before his demise.

When the death time was called, he was blissfully ignoring the world for pete’s sake! He could’ve been doing something; anything for god’s sake. Yet, there he was, taking a longer break. ‘Nothing more could have been done’ is what he was always told, but it was bleakly obvious that it was a lie to attempt to stop his moping. He didn’t deserve to mourn yet he couldn’t help it.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he established a piece of paper in which was the slightest bit crumbled. The name on the front addressed to ‘Todd Anderson’ written in frankly new-seeming ink.

This was arranged between the another letter from the last week and a flower from yesterday.

He brought his knees up to his chest, resting his head faced onto them. He didn’t wish to see the scene around him much longer. Tears began to distort the scene beyond that.

“Neil..?”

An instinct told him to look up - that name was still second nature to him.

“Charlie-“ he tried to stabilise his voice.

“It’s good to see you.” The man perched beside him in the dirt, bestowing some flowers besides the wilting ones.

“It’s good to see you too.” He smiled gratefully. Why was Charlie talking to him?

“I’m sorry for what I did when we last met, okay. I should have never yelled.. I just- I mean, I didn’t get how you were still alive after the whole ordeal and how you just left. I shouldn’t have done that though.”

“No, Charlie- It’s my fault. I should’ve tried to contact you all. My dad sent me to that military school just off of Welton but I should’ve tried to contact you after graduation. I’m sorry.” He managed between a few sobs.

The man across from him offered his arms out as he took the embrace. He missed all of them. He missed the past, how it used to be. He especially missed Todd.

“It’s all done and dusted now, don’t worry. Not much more we can do on the past but the present’s still here.” He paused, “How many years and I still haven’t been able to congratulate you on your performance in the play.” Charlie tried to cheer him up, earning a weak smile from him in which didn’t reach his eyes.

Charlie managed to keep a positive enough look on the outside in an attempt to alleviate Neil’s demeanour, yet looking at him you could see that he wasn’t doing the best either.

He was a good friend, he was a really good friend.

How anyone could push past what had happened and accept the future for what it was? Forgiving in a point that no one should’ve even been able to.

Time passed, time changed. The same was applicable with people. He knew the future would never meet up to the past - acknowledging the setting only set it stone.

There was nothing he could do.

He gripped tighter onto his clothing, tensing up with his flooding thoughts. A dam broken; un-fixable. The only solution was gone. Forever.

The beginning rain held no competition to his tear ducts. He leant back into the soil, wishing the world would just come crashing down on him now; his own world already had.

There was nothing such thing as tomorrow for Todd - but god, James wished that was him instead.