The Prodigal Son
Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living-Luke 15:13
Daniel "Danny" Wilson knew that he was the prodigal son. It wasn't an assumption, it wasn't a delusion, he simply knew. Nothing would convince him otherwise. Although he was raised of Jewish faith, he was still familiar with the story and even attempted to remember it by heart. When he was younger, he would sometimes browse through the New Testament of his parents Bible. They never knew about it though; if they found out he was going through their Bible, then he probably would have gotten a beating that would last a lifetime. Why they had a whole Bible in the house, he would never know. Regardless, that story stuck to him for some odd reason.
There is a slight comparison between the two, Danny had noticed. For one, both had run away from home; from all that they had loved and established in their lives. The tiny difference in that statement is that the actual prodigal son ran by choice, for Danny it was involuntary. Danny had to run. The voices and the figures he saw pushed him to the edge of his limit. So he ran because his life depended on that simple act.
The other difference between Danny and the prodigal son was that the prodigal son came back home when he realized the mistake he made. He was welcomed back with open arms from his family and even had a feast in his honor ('Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate).The son was forgiven on the spot, without any damage done; a happy ending. Danny on the other hand, had yet to come home and to have his happy ending. Even if he did, he wouldn't be welcomed with open arms. Danny knows this. He's sure that his mother would be happy just because he is her son. She would be grateful that her son was actually alive, but perhaps sad that her son still suffers from this disease. But what about his father? Or his brothers? They wouldn't care if Danny re-appeared or not. To them, Danny disappeared.
They are aware that it wasn't Danny's fault. But that wouldn't stop the strain that it caused them. Danny wasn't getting better, but worse. It was everybody's job to keep an eye on him, because if they didn't, something bad would happen. They made sure that schizophrenia did not crumble their family. The Wilsons would do whatever it takes to keep their family together and protect Danny their youngest son. Of course, that in no way meant that everyone was always strong. He remembered when his mother broke down in tears shortly after he was diagnosed praying to whatever God was up there for any answer. He remembered his father only shaking his head at the whole situation. His brothers… were the only ones who treated him normally but Danny knew they wanted to cry.
Danny sleeps in New York Mercy Hospital. He savors the crisp sheets and the soft pillow. The warmth overflowed him like coffee early in the morning. He curled himself up in the fetal position gripping the sheets, making sure that no one would steal it from him. His mind still believes that he's on the streets guarding all of his worldly possessions from prying sharks. The one time he let his guard down, they take him to Mercy.
He is not grateful for being found, he could be exposed and humiliated by these demons for the rest of his life. That's why he ran: he knew that he was humiliating his family because of his delusions and hallucinations. No one believed him, only James could talk sense, but even that lasted so long. Never again. Never again. Never again.
Without the sedatives, he is sure that he would still be able fall asleep in an instant. Sleep was rare on the streets but Danny always managed to get a decent amount keeping the voices at bay. He'd close them out; sometimes it was easy, other times it was not.
He breathed softly into the pillow. Memories flood him like water.
He remembers a night, when he was recently diagnosed with schizophrenia. He started medication already and it was shortly before James went to college. His brothers decided to have a little camping trip in the backyard and act like boys. They joked, and laughed as if they were the little kids they once were.
It was warm summer night. The crickets were chirping a beautiful tune while the cicadas were singing their song. Fireflies danced around them. The grass was not yet wet with dew but soon enough it would be. The boys sat on the grass focusing their attention to the stars trying to find the constellations.
"I can't find anything!' Danny shouted in frustration.
"Look harder, Danny, you know what to look for," James said. "Even if you don't find anything, you have to admit it's a nice night before we go our separate ways."
"I suppose," Danny half-agreed . "Anything's better than listening to Dad's lectures about making it in the world and all that."
"Very true," his oldest brother David said. "Or Mom's constant crying. Be prepared for that for awhile. She still cries when I call her from college and I've been going for two years. And of course to you James, you've been going for what, a year and she still cries. No matter what you do, she'll still baby you to death."
"Ha!" James laughed. "All mothers are like that. I think she'd worries more about Danny though, right, buddy?" He punches his younger brother gently on the arm. "Just because you are the youngest and you know Mom's not looking forward to the empty nest."
"Yea." Danny said. "Especially now… with all this shit I'm being put through. "
The brothers remain silent for a second, not wanting to go down that road once again. The night wasn't about that. So James and David go into a full depth conversation about the constellations. Danny quits looking for them knowing well there was no way in hell that he would find them.
He focuses on the fireflies dancing around them until sleep reaches his eyes. He enjoys hearing his brothers argue about which constellation is which. For once, his mind was not wandering or filled with some type of paranoia. He is memorized by the way they just blink like a short circuit. The cicadas make the mood more perfect with the tune. It looked as if the fireflies were dancing to the cicadas' joyous tune. This was what he needed; this is what he desired more than anything.
One day he would find fireflies to officially cure him and everyone else for that matter. But for tonight, he's happy, and that will have to do. Fireflies do have good intentions; it takes the innocent to see it.
The prodigal son had it easy, thinks Danny in slumber. He didn't have an incurable mental disorder, and he didn't have a family who shunned him away like trash (well in Danny's mind that is). The prodigal son had a family who loved him no matter what happened and supported him. Because of love, and the grace of God he knew he had a home to go to. Because of love, he could always come back. ("…this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.") Danny knew that he could never go back home. He would be so detached from reality that he would never lead a normal life. So in a way, Danny was doing them a favor. It's better off this way, he thought. No one could possibly understand him or believe him. His reality and their reality would never meet; they would be so out of reach. Danny's reality too is real. No memory in the world could replace what is, or even bring him the joy he desires. There was no hope.
Those fireflies from long ago were no more. No way could he find them now no matter how hard he tried. He saw them as he wandered the streets of either Princeton or Manhattan-wherever he was at but they no longer came to him and danced. It seemed that they would stay their distance. Danny can only see them in those memories that he cherished so much.
He streams tears from his eyes as he slept wishing that someday, somehow he could go back to those moments and relive them all over again. If there was a way, he would. Even a cure, he would find it. Schizophrenia destroys everything in its path. They were crying wolf according to the world, which made schizophrenics feel alone. Because they were. And Danny was among them.
There was no hope. There was no cure. There were no fireflies. Only the comfort of an observation room, pajamas, doctors, nurses and anti-psychotics which would make him a shell of who he used to be. But he was still here suffering it which is more than he could say to some acquaintances he knew in his youth.
New York Mercy had already contacted Dr. James Wilson, Oncologist at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He will be the first acquaintance that Danny had seen in at least 14 years. Danny sensed that someone from his family would see him, and James would be the obvious choice since they were so close. If he chose to that is.
He already knows that these words would apply when the saw each other: 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' .
The ghost of his former self would reside and would nowhere be the person he was once before. No feast in his honor, no welcome arms. Only solitude and estrangement. There was no happiness in that .
The bed he lays in was his only friend. And Danny didn't care about much else right now; only the paranoia which was on the edge of coming out once more.
A/N: My first House fanfic, I worked extremely hard on it and I would appreciate some feedback. Thank you