sick_wilson | Quality Of Life

Title: Chapter One, Brave Face
Summary: you can't always get what you want...Now, where have I heard that one before?
Warning: Missing scene of Ep.5x17, "The Social Contract".
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If we could always get what we wanted, I would have complete control over House and his universe...but, since we can't, I'll have to settle for the non-profitable rights of fandom. :)

In his mind, Wilson imagined that reuniting his brother would go something like this:

He would find his brother waiting anxiously for his arrival, having been waiting for this moment for two days, since they told him his brother would be coming to visit. They'd both be speechless with emotion, so there would be no need for words. They would run towards on another and grab each other in a big bear hug, and laugh and cry as they embraced each other joyously. All would be forgiven...his having ignored his brother's pleas for help in med school...his not having known how lost his brother had been...his not being there for his brother all the time he'd been missing. His brother would say "Thank you James...Thank you" and Wilson would tell him "That's OK, we're brothers; it's what brothers do...we support one another, unconditionally: that's what family is for." He would feel a familial connection that he'd been missing, if not...dare he consider it...for the few friends he had in his life, namely House and Cuddy. Perhaps if House had been there with him, like he'd hoped he would be, he wouldn't feel so alone.

Then he could at least stop clinging to the hope that his brother would wholeheartedly accept his offerings---no strings attached--and they could carry on as though no time had been lost between them: as though none of this nightmare had ever even happened.

He knew it was naive, but this was what he'd hoped. He wasn't prepared for seeing the sight of Danny lying still in his bed, his eyes wide and blank and staring blindly at the ceiling. He wasn't prepared to notice how much weight his brother had lost; nor was he prepared to see the still angry scar which cut jaggedly across his forehead: a scar which someone had clearly tended to, and which was slowly healing. He wasn't prepared for the suffocating feeling of the small, poorly lit room, as though the world was closing in on him. He was glad for the small square Plexiglas window that allowed some natural light to filter through, except in the dimness of the single lamp and the shadows that surrounded them, it didn't offer the comfort that it should have.

The first thing he noticed about Daniel was how thin he was. His cheekbones were sunken, his hands frail and his face---once handsome enough to make the other boys jealous---looked almost completely unrecognizable. He looked close to death. At the shock of such a sight, Wilson's eyes stung as he stared down at his brother just lying there like an inanimate object. He fought off the overwhelming urge to cry, forcing himself to drag the only chair in the room towards Daniel's bedside. When he spoke, he gasped the words, because he'd been unaware that he'd been holding his breath for two minutes.

"Hi, Danny...it's me, James...your older brother," he added warmly, unable to restrain his unyielding affection. He tried not to look his brother directly in the eyes, as Javier had warned him that this would possibly set off a psychotic break. "I've missed you," he managed, voice wavering in spite of himself, as he was greeted with an unbearably stony silence.

"You're looking good," he added, forcing brightness into his cheeks, glad that he could muster up the lie. "They treating you well?" Wilson pursued: with every question left unanswered, feeling his recently built-up strength begin to all but inevitably wither away.

Daniel made a guttural sound deep within his throat, but Wilson wasn't sure if it was a reflexive act or an actual reply. The rest of him remained motionless, including his expression. Wilson was glad to see that the pubescent acne he remembered had miraculously cleared: except for a few pockmarks here and there. Then, there was the scar, which he could not stop eyeing with concern. "How are you feeling?" he asked, knowing he probably wouldn't get an answer. He knew he could probably answer this question himself; after all, his brother was glued to his bedsheets, had dark circles beneath his eyes, and looked as pale as the moon.

To his surprise, without moving the rest of his facial features, Daniel's lips twisted as they struggled to slowly come together and formed the single whispered word: "Blank..."

Wilson shuddered reflexively at the statement, then wondered if perhaps he had not imagined the whole thing. He swallowed hard, trying to imagine just how much medication they had doped Danny up with. He had to be feeling numb. "You're on a lot of medication right now, Danny," he allowed, trying not to let Daniel's almost contagious despair overtake him. "They're doing everything they can to make you better."

Daniel's mouth twitched and he blinked rapidly several times before the next barely audible word pushed through. "Can't..."

"You're gonna be fine, Danny," Wilson whispered hoarsely, his voice choked up with overwhelming and unexpected emotion, feeling his whole body tremble as he somehow continued. "You're going through a rough spell, but it doesn't mean it can't be fixed." All you're doing is giving him false hope...He could hear House's voice in his head, taunting his optimism: and he realized it didn't matter if House was there or not; he already knew what House would say if he was.

"I'm a doctor too," he went on, fumbling for words of encouragement; even if it was a lie, it would help his brother get through the next few days. "I know medicine, and I know that they've got you on the right drugs, and that you're on new medication which has worked wonders for depressed patients with this illness. You've got a team of experts here working with you, and for you...not against you. I know it's a lot to deal with...but we're all here to help you get through it together."

He watched, dumbfounded, as a single tear escaped Daniel's left eye and slid swiftly down his cheek. Other than that, he displayed no emotion. Even though it was fleeting, Wilson knew that tear was a sign of improvement.

"Hey---it's gonna be OK," Wilson whispered, his voice hitched with unexpected affection: and, before he could think better of it, he reached out and grasped Daniel's hand. Daniel's fingers tried to pull away, but they were too frail to complete the task. Wilson ignored the resistance, and bent down to kiss his brother's forehead. "I'm here now," he stated with conviction. "I'll visit you every week...whether you like it or not, I'll be here. I'm not going to have you going through this alone."

Noticing that his brother was shivering slightly, Wilson moved to tuck the bedsheets tightly around his brother's frail frame. "You're at one of the best hospitals in the state," he proclaimed, "and actually, in the entire country. These people...they know what they're doing."

"Hate...hate them..." His brother could barely make out the words through the uncontrollable clashing of chattering teeth. Wilson searched for a thermostat, but saw none, and then realized that looking for one in a patient room was useless.

"No you don't," he said instead, "You hate the illness. That's understandable...it's a horrible burden to have to bare." He settled back down into the chair, a million different questions racing through his mind that he could not release. Instead he said, "Do they let you outside much?"

His brother's dulled voice slurred as he spoke this time with great effort. "Want to...run..."

Wilson wasn't sure what his brother meant by that; he'd wanted to know if his brother was allowed to be let out into the courtyard. He hoped that eventually they could sit outside together, when it got warmer. Instead, his brother was talking about running.

"What do you mean, Danny?" he asked, feeling silly, as though he should know the reasoning behind his brother's words.

"Too many...people..." His brother blinked rapidly for several moments, then fell still.

"That's okay," Wilson retreated gently with submission, realizing that he might have pushed too far; perhaps Danny wasn't ready just yet for fresh air and sunlight. "I just wanted to go for a walk with you sometime, that's all...when I visit you next," he added, wondering what he would receive in response---if anything.

"Next..." Daniel's eyes flickered towards him once, then away, then back towards him again, before he squeezed both eyes shut tight.

"Danny...is that okay?" Wilson moved forward with alarm, as Daniel's eyes remained shut. "I don't have to visit, if..." He faltered, then pushed forward, despite the sudden dread that threatened to swallow him whole. "...if you don't want me to do so," he managed to finish.

"Yes," said Daniel affirmatively, as though he had asked a question instead of spoken a statement. It took Wilson a moment to realize his brother was requesting him return: and, when he did realize the gravity of the word, it nearly took his breath away. For a moment everything became surreal and he felt light-headed, feeling as though he were dreaming himself in a dream.

When he at last found his voice, his lips felt numb. "I'll see you next week, then?" But he was speaking to a wall of silence: Daniel had stopped shivering, and his eyes remained glued to the wall; his breathing shallow but steady.

Wilson felt a new-found sense of hope as he prepared to leave. He wondered what House would say, when he told him it hadn't gone as horribly as he'd thought it would...probably tell him that he was foolish for believing it could get any better. Even though he hated to admit it, House was useful in such situations. He took the truth as it came to him and wholeheartedly accepted it, whether he liked it or not. Wilson knew House would probably not accept the invitation, but he wondered if it would help to have House come with him when he saw Danny: he needed someone who could help keep him strictly grounded to reality.

After all, even though reality was painful, it was reality, nonetheless: and House was the best option when he needed a coach to give him a whole lot more than just a pep talk. He knew it might be dangerous to let House anywhere near his brother, being in such a fragile state of mind....but, in the long run, having House's presence might do them all some good. Wilson knew that even anger was better than being in a catatonic state: and, if having House there at all would prove to be even the slightest bit productive, it would be having House stir up some pent-up emotion that could possibly do the trick.

Before shutting the door, Wilson shot a backwards glance at the motionless figure lying self-bound to the bed. He expected himself to feel as though he'd failed, because his brother had not changed positions since he'd first come in....but he didn't. He felt brave. "See you soon, Danny," he whispered with determination, before slowly letting himself back out into the empty hall.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I really liked this :) I think that it's a realistic way to envision things going and I'm intrigued to see how you will incorporate House into the next chapters :) Are you planning to wait and see what happens each week on the show then update or just go with whatever you have in your head for the rest of the fic? :)

The next chapter will probably be an incorporation of last week's episodes and what we know about Wilson's background from past episodes...but I plan on incorporating canon into the story on a whole. So, "yes" to both questions.

& thank you so much for reading & commenting! I'm glad you liked it, & I'm glad that you thought it was "realistic"...That's encouraging. Stay tuned! :)

Loved this. Thought you did such a marvelous job of capturing Wilson's inner thoughts. This is how I hope it plays out between Wilson and his brother.

Loved your thoughts on House in this. Great sentence "he wondered if it would help to have House come with him when he saw Danny: he needed someone who could help keep him strictly grounded to reality." Very interesting thoughts. When Wilson asked if House could go with him, I wondered if they'd actually show that and what would the outcome be. Very nicely done. :D

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