In Sickness and Sonnets - A House MD & Dead Poets Society Fanfiction

Behind Closed Doors

 Two well-dressed gentlemen exchange whispered words with each other in an empty clinic; the younger of the two is huddled over the man sitting in the waiting area, a look of worry plastered across his face. Gently, he pushes the chocolate-brown locks stuck to the man's forehead aside, resting the back of his hand there, letting out a concerned sigh.

"Still burning up..." The doe-eyed man loosens his crimson tie from around his shirt collar, a weak smile forming on his lips, looking away to cough into the crook of his elbow. Worry pooling in his eyes, the blond rests his hand back by his side. "I'm sure they won't be long, Neil."

Silence fills the room for a while, broken only by the small coughs Neil hides in his elbows, eyes lingering on his friend between each cough.

"Come on, Anderson, it's just a cold! Stop looking at me like I'm about to drop dead. I know how annoying it can be as a doctor when-" Your voice sounds like hell. Stop talking.

"You can't just... diagnose yourself, Neil." The younger man states, a worried puff of air coming from his nose as he leans closer to the sick man. "If- If it's just a cold, then it doesn't matter, okay?" The blond says, bracing as the older man parts his lips to retort, when he's interrupted by the clinic doors being pushed open. A very well-kept doctor walks into the waiting room, blue file in hand.

"Mr. Anderson? Very sorry for the wait, urgent consult came up." The doctor leads the two men into one of the exam rooms, holding the door for them and setting the file down onto one of the cabinets. He turns around to face the two gentlemen, when, Uh... The man in the lab coat looks between them, the blond looking at him with restrained bewilderment in his eyes. "Is... something the matter?" He queries, now wearing a look of confusion himself.

"S-sorry, Doctor." The younger stutters out, his eyes firmly planted on the man in front of him. Neil manages a laugh, looking between Anderson and the doctor.

"He's not great with new people. He means well." He croaks, watching as Anderson's face morphs into an anxious look.

"No, it's just—I'm, uh, surprised. You two... It's just... you two look really alike."" He laughs nervously.

Neil, still managing a laugh despite his discomfort, glances between them, "Now, Anderson, try not to fall for the guy, eh?" Neil jests, earning a very light slap of the arm from Anderson.

"I suppose we do look alike. Though I can't say I like that pallor." Wilson smiles as he deftly pulls his gloves on, eyes trained firmly on Neil. "I'm Dr. Wilson. I'm your attending physician today, Dr. Perry."

Accepting Neil's weak smile as an acknowledgement, Wilson looks at the blond standing next to him. "As I understand it, Mr..." A brief pause as Wilson mentally flips through the file, It reassures them to hear their name. "Anderson, you were the one to arrange this visit today?" The gentleman only nods, a slightly sheepish look on his face. "Not to worry," Wilson smiles comfortingly, now watching as Neil coughs into his sleeve again. "Let's see if we can't figure out why you're feeling so rough." He consoles as he puts the stethoscope into his ears.

He goes over the whole regime, pointlessly explaining each step to the other doctor, acutely aware of Anderson boring a worried look into the side of his head. Taking a step back, Wilson removes his gloves and reaches for the file he left on the cabinet.

"A couple things I need to go over before I commit this to your chart." He says, eyes scanning over the lines of the file as he pulls a pen out of his breast pocket, turning to face the two of them. "It is flu season, but just to be sure—are you sexually active? Helps to rule out a few things." Wilson looks at them, confused by their reaction, though being careful not to let it show on his face. The blond is now in a staring contest with the floor, and Neil's cheeks are a touch darker than they were before.

"No sir, we're friends. Just friends." Neil iterates, voice scratchy.

"That's not what I meant, Dr. Perry." Wilson can't help but laugh, "I meant, any girlfriends? A wife?" Anderson isn't staring at the floor anymore, The floor always wins that contest. Wilson thinks, eyes flicking back to the man on the exam bed.

"No girlfriends. Divorced for over a year now." Neil coughs out, earning a sympathetic look from Wilson.

"All too familiar with that dark horse," Wilson jokes, putting pen to paper. "I noticed some crackling, and you're obviously running a bit of a fever." Wilson states, taking a quick look up from the pages to gauge his facial expression.

Seems very unsurprised. He thinks, puzzling out an accusatory look at Anderson. Hey, don't blame your friend! "Last question, any family history of pulmonary issues, cardiac disease..?" trailing himself off, Neil certainly already knows the list of conditions he has to rattle off. Eyebrow raised, Wilson spies a well-concealed but unmistakably conflicted look shoot across the other doctor's face. Seemingly, Anderson noticed it too, as he offers a supportive look to Neil.

"Not on good terms with family? Maybe we're more alike than just our looks." Wilson smiles, attempting to inject some humour. "Just to the best of your knowledge. We can contact family as an organisation if there are any concerns." Neil snaps wide awake at this, instantly pulled out of his swamp of thoughts.

"No. No, that won't be necessary. No history of cancer, diabetes, anything." He quickly snaps out, earning a nod from Wilson. Anderson sidles up to Neil and murmurs something into his ear very gently, causing Neil's expression to lighten, even if just a pinch.

"Alright. Well, seeing as it is that time of year, I think we can safely assume the flu. I'm going to write you a prescription." Wilson pulls his prescription pad out of his lab coat and starts scribbling in that familiar doctor scrawl. "Just to be safe," he starts, ripping the page out of the pad and handing it to Neil. "I'd like you to come back in tomorrow. I'd like to monitor that crackling on these meds." Anderson helps Neil up, thanking Wilson for his time and ushering the coughing man out of the door.

Sighing, Wilson drops his sunny expression and watches out of the one-way mirror as the two gentlemen fill the prescription and hurry out of the hospital. Touchy subject, I guess. He muses to himself as he removes the paper sheet from the exam bed and disinfects the surfaces surrounding it. Nothing important for the next few hours, clinic closes soon. He justifies to himself, hoisting himself up onto the exam bed. House does it all the time. His thoughts wander away from him as he drifts off in the exam room.