Work Text:
Today was an oddly beautiful morning, the sky was clear, almost no clouds. The clock only hit ten in the morning but the sun was already high, diffusing a warm light in the trees’s green leaves, rustling in the fresh wind of the early summer.
People, mostly students, were talking joyfully, laughing, appreciating the beautiful weather, enjoying the beginning of their summer break, enjoying the fact they had their whole life ahead, a destiny full of possibilities.
But it isn’t the case of James Wilson.
No, James doesn’t have a life time ahead nor the possibilities to realise his dream. He neither can’t dream at all cause,
what do you dream for when you only have five months to live ?
Wilson takes a deep breath, painfully reminding he soon won’t be able to fully and peacefully inhale, thanks to the tumour silently but slowly expanding in his chest.
The double dosed chimio, his only chance of not ending in a hospital and receiving pity from all the people he ever knew for the rest of his short life didn’t work.
James’s mind slowly go back to that night, where, between the pain,the vomit, the hallucinations and other joy of the medication, he thought he would die. No, he wanted to die, to stop the pain. He wasn’t alone that night, he was with him,
Gregory House his best friend from decades.
Those memories are blurred, surely due to the high painkillers level but Wilson is almost sure he felt a hand in his during that horrible experience. That thought made him smile.
He always kinda liked House and it’s only when he’s on death’s edge he realises he doesn’t only kinda like his best friend.
he deadly loves him.
But he never had the opportunity to tell him, to know if it’s reciprocate.
A few days ago House went missing, left over food, call to his psychiatrist and forgotten phone.
That doesn’t look like House.
It was in did, one of the most terrifying moments of Wilson’s life, and you’re talking to a man who has cancer.
After further investigation, he and Foreman, the Dean of Medicine and ex House’s fellow, arrived at House’s last patient, a junkie.
They found the address and ended up in front of an in fire building.
That’s here everything started getting worst
Wilson remember running to that building, hoping he was wrong, hoping the person he “kinda liked” wasn’t in there.
But fate isn’t fair
Fate could have been nice to a dying man
But no,
Instead he saw House, face covered with ashes walking to the front door. Or was it a broken window ?
Wilson isn’t sure, maybe because he was too focused on the fire raging behind his best friend.
But there was a change the limping man could’ve reached the exit, James was holding his breath, eyes wet from the already rolling tears.
But fait isn’t fair
And a beam fell. Spreading the fire even more.
Wilson fell but quickly got up, House needed his help, he was simply suck behind that beam, he was fine.
Right ?
Right ?
Two days after, the funerals were organised.
Wilson was sick and still, House managed to die first and egoistically.
But when coming home exhausted by the way too emotional moments he lived, Wilson found someone sitting in front of his door
House
He was alive
Alive
Now they are sitting next to each other in that park, knee slightly touching. They didn’t speak much since House’s come back.
Wilson had regretted to not have told House about his feelings when he through this one was dead.
Now the words are stuck inside his throat.
Today is an oddly beautiful day to die.
But Wilson decided he was the one in charge of his destiny.
So today will be the last.
James Wilson is a pragmatic man.
He already chose the clothes he’ll wear. His favourite hoodie and a jogging. That’s not really classy but it’s comfortable and Wilson doesn’t want to spend his last moments with a too tight tie.
He already chose the place where he’ll do it. Well there’s not a lot possibilities so it will be in his bedroom, with House at his side.
He already chose the way he’ll do it. Medication is his best option, it won’t hurt and it’ll feel like slowly falling asleep.
He already chose who will find his lifeless body. He made a call so thirteen will visit him a few hours later. Wilson doesn’t want his body to rote for days before being found. That won’t be nice for the person who’d accidentally finds him.
So this is it, James is slowly lying down, feeling the warm product spreading through his veins. His vision already started to tunnel as House lie down in the other side of the bed staring at him with calm but pained blue eyes.
-“House-“
His own voice seems so far at his ears. The older man slowly takes Wilson’s hand and lightly kiss him on the forehead. James wanna close his eyes to savour the contact of his best friend lips but he knows he won’t be able to open them again and he wants to watch House’s blue eyes as long as possible.
-“ I had a question-“
His voice is now only a murmur, he feels so tied…
-“ How did you survive, in the building ? “
This time he can’t held his eyes to close.
-“ Who said I did ?”
Suddenly Wilson hand felt empty.
It is an oddly beautiful day to die.