Dead Doctors Society

 Charles Dalton never had a heart attack, but if he were to guess, it would feel a lot like this. But Dr. J. Wilson, the nametag announces, is not Neil Perry, even if they share the same friendly smile and boyish looks. James Wilson is older, with lines on his face and exhaustion in his eyes. He can't be sure if it's his hatred of the profession but he doesn't think this particular doctor is satisfied with his life.

"Mr. Dalton, what brings you here today?" Dr. Wilson has a nice and polite smile, warmer than he is used to seeing in doctors and Charles Dalton is old enough to have seen plenty of doctors and their smiles.

"Just a sprain to the ankle, doc. You can call me Charlie." He can't have the nice doctor calling him Nuwanda. It's been almost 50 years since Neil's death, but he can't have someone with Neil's face calling him that. And Mr. Dalton will always be his father.

"And how did you sprain it,... Charlie?" There's a slight hesitation showing that the younger man is not completely comfortable with the informal name.

"Skydiving." The answer is enough that the doctor stops his examination to look at him.

"Really?"

"It's actually not that dangerous, but I had a bad landing. Still, it's better than bungee jumping. Dangling upside down gets old really fast." In reality, Charlie is right. Risks can be minimized when you know what you're doing, so he studied skydiving statistics and paid attention to his instructors. He learned his lesson back in school, to see the difference between daring and stupid. Like taking a call from God asking for girls at Welton.

"Mr. Dalton--Charlie-- are you sure you should be doing that at your age?"

"I'm 67. Should I wait until I'm 75?" He stops for a moment. Todd would give the speech better, he is sure. And Meeks would be able to quote Mr. Keating word for word. But, like always, Charlie has his own spin of the subject. "Doc, when was the last time you had fun? I learned a long time ago that life is too short. Something about food for worms and latin catchphrases." He hopes some of the message gets through, because if the lines in his face are any indication, James Wilson looks like he could use it.

 Later, with his right foot wrapped in bandages, Charlie limps out of the hospital thinking that he can't agree with Neil that suicide was his only way out, but that the idea of his friend working on this job, with none of the passion and life he displayed on stage that night, is terrifying. Maybe it's time for the Dead Poets Society to meet again. He has new poems, adventures and centerfolds to share.

 Even later, James Wilson decides not to work late or participate in one of House's schemes. Instead, he picks up the phone and calls the new nurse in Radiology determined to enjoy himself, if only for tonight.

A/N: Done!! Yay!! I was worried about making the 500 words mark, I usually write even shorter stories. I've been meaning to write a House/DPS crossover for a while now and this just provided me with the perfect excuse!

Beta credits go to vfdj42 and hug_a_wookie: Thanks so much for taking the time to do this!! :) If there are any grammar errors out there, it's really not that fault, my mistakes are just THAT stubborn!