Authors Notes: Okay here is another go at a Chase angst fic. It'll probably only be two or three chapters long. Hope you like it…

Disclaimer: What would you say if I told you I owned House? Well I don't so oh well. However all of the weird patients in the clinic are my original creations : )

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Chase headed out of the office and towards the clinic, happy for any excuse to be getting away from his boss. Cameron had called in to say she was stuck in traffic, Foreman had been called downstairs for some sort of neurological consult, and Wilson was at the board meeting. Therefore Chase had been the only person available for House's daily torment.

Chase walked into the clinic, grabbed the first folder on the counter, and headed towards exam room one. He opened the door to find a depressed looking man with rather handsome features sitting on the exam table.

"What seems to be the problem?" Chase asked, his voice clearly lacking tones of concern and interest.

The man looked down at the floor and in a quivery voice he began to speak, "I killed my wife, I shot her, I…"

Chase was suddenly nearly knocked over by a memory he had suppressed for years suddenly flooding back.

The clinic patient watched with his mouth open as the expressions on Chase's face began to change: first anger, then sorrow, followed by pain, shear horror, pity, and finally guilt.

Chase's head was spinning with emotions and memories and he was beginning to feel very sick and dizzy. He spoke hastily to the man on the exam table while he scribbled a prescription for him.

"I'm assuming you didn't mean to shoot your wife," he said, "and now you are feeling depressed and guilty about it." He handed the prescription to the patient. "Prozac. It'll help." With that Chase picked up the folder from the floor and briskly left the room.

Chase started to run, not knowing where he was going and not really caring. Chase hated that patient. He knew it made no sense – he had just met him, but he still hated him. That man had brought back his darkest memory. A memory that had almost killed Chase, a memory that had taken him years to forget, years to pass through. And that man had brought it back in a manner of seconds. He had brought it back to Chase's life, back to haunt him.

As a doctor, Chase knew that one small event could trigger a large response out of basically no where in someone who had suffered trauma in the past… but he had never expected this to happen to him.

Chase fell to his knees in front of the elevator. He realized that he was out of breath. How could I not notice that? He wondered. His head down as he tried to focus and take in air. Chase hoped to just stay there for a while and calm down.

But this was apparently not Chase's day, because just as he fell, the elevator door opened and Cameron and Foreman walked out. The both saw Chase crumple down, Cameron ran to him and Foreman just stood there as his mouth fell slightly open.

"Chase," Cameron cried as she pulled him up from his knees and over to a nearby bench.

"Chase, what happened? Are you okay?" She questioned. "Say something."

Chase was staring straight ahead, a dazed expression on his face. He seemed to be in deep thought. He was swaying slightly, but when Cameron lifted up his limp arm, she felt a very steady pulse. She sighed with relief.

But the relief began to fade as Chase did not respond.

She called Foreman over. Since Cameron had just gotten to work, she was not wearing her lab coat yet and therefore she did not have her penlight. Foreman came over took his penlight out of the pocket of his lab coat and shined it in Chase's eyes one at a time.

Chase's body jolted and he blinked at the bright light. He shielded his eyes and slowly took his hand away from his face. "Foreman… Cameron…" his voice was slowly trailing away as he tried to hide the dismay it showed.

The memory was still penetrating Chase's mind. He had been planning to fake a headache, - which wouldn't be to hard considering how he felt now - go home, and put himself to sleep with a bottle of anti-depressants. When he woke up, he knew he would feel better and would go back to work, saying that his headache was slept away. But he looked up at Cameron and Foreman and saw the worried expressions on their faces, and he knew that, that would not be happening.

"Chase?" Cameron asked worriedly. "What happened? Are you okay? You fell down over there." She pointed to where he had fallen. "You seemed dazed, do you remember?"

Chase hated her questioning. He had no intention of telling her, Foreman, or anyone else for that matter what had truly happened. He didn't want to share this dark memory with anyone. He just wanted to go home get it to go away using drugs.

"Chase?" This time it was Foreman questioning. He handed Chase something, the folder from the patient at the clinic. "You dropped this over there where you fell," Foreman replied.

"You were at the clinic?" Cameron questioned looking at the folder. She took the folder from Chase. "Why did you leave in the middle of this patient?" She asked. "Was everything okay?" She began to thumb through the folder. She read about halfway through and then looked up, startled. "He didn't try to shoot you, did he?" She asked her eyes wide.

"No, ah I'm fine," Chase spoke, "I just…ah…just," Chase paused. "I just tripped," he concluded after a while.

"But then why were you over here if you had been at--,"

"Anyway," Chase said, interrupting Cameron before she could finish her sentence, "I'm fine, really." With that, he took the folder from Cameron and hurried down the hall back to the clinic.

When Chase arrived back at the clinic, one of the nurses asked why he had run out and if he was okay. Chase simply nodded and told her he was fine. He then picked up the next folder on the desk and headed away to the exam room.

Chase was barely able to concentrate with his head was spinning. The memory was still there pounding inside of his head, almost as if it were begging to come out. Chase stumbled into the exam room where he found an old lady with a painfully cheesy smile. "Hi," she screeched when Chase walked into the room. "I have a toothache."

"Um…. Have you seen a dentist?" Chase questioned rubbing the sides of his head.

"No…" the lady answered.

"Well… I would suggest doing that," Chase said. "You can take some Advil if the pain gets really bad," He added.

"Thanks," the lady said with a smile so bright that it almost blinded Chase, as he turned around to give the lady a nod.

Chase looked up at the clock on the wall, as he put the folder back on the desk. It read nine thirty-six. His clinic shift was over at one thirty. He decided that he would be able to make it home, get his anti-depressants, and then get back to work within four hours. Cameron, House, and Foreman all knew he was at the clinic, so they would wouldn't come to get him for anything.

He just had to figure out some way to get out of the clinic without the nurse noticing. Luckily, a little girl tripped in the waiting area and the nurse ran over to make sure she was okay.

Chase then quietly ran out of the clinic and down the hall to the stairs. He didn't want to risk anyone seeing him while he waited for the elevator. He ran down three flights of stairs and out of the hospital to the parking lot where he breathlessly walked to his car. Luckily, he always kept his car keys in the pocket of his pants, so he wouldn't have to gone back up to the conference room to get them.

He turned they key in the ignition and drove away towards his apartment, with the memory still pounding in his head.

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Meanwhile, Cameron and Foreman stepped into the conference room to find House writing symptoms on the white board.

"Hey, we got a case!" said Foreman brightening up as he saw it.

"Yeah, and a really cool case too." House added sarcastically.

"Uh huh." Foreman just nodded.

"Where's Chase?" House questioned aloud.

"Clinic," answered Cameron.

"Go get him," House said, "it's important." He tapped his cane on the white board.

"Why not just page him?" Foreman asked. But Cameron was already on her way out of the room and towards the clinic.

Cameron went down to the clinic and asked the nurse at the desk if she knew where Chase was.

"Um… yeah," said the nurse, "I think he's still in the exam room over there," she pointed, "he went in there about twenty minutes ago, I haven't seen him come out yet."

"Okay, thanks." said Cameron. She started to head towards the exam room but the turned back, "Um… do you know if he is okay?" She asked.

"Well," said the nurse, "he was acting a little strange before but I think he's okay now."

"All right, thank you," and with that Cameron was off to the exam room.

She walked in to find a little girl sitting on the exam table crying and a doctor, who wasn't Chase, attempting to apply antibiotic cream to her knee.

"Um… excuse me," Cameron said.

The doctor looked up.

"Have you seen Doctor Chase?" She asked.

"No, I haven't," the doctor replied. "This exam room was empty when I came in with her." He gave a slight head gesture to the crying girl on the table.

"Right… okay. Um, thanks anyway…" Cameron said.

She left the exam room feeling confused and worried.

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Chase had just parked his car and was heading up to his apartment. He was unspeakably dizzy and the memory was still there, pounding louder than ever before.

Eventually, he made it up the stairs and into his apartment, where he collapsed on his couch. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He began to take slow calming sips. He then went to his medicine cabinet in the bathroom. He slowly slid the door open and pulled out his unopened bottle of Prozac. He had been given it after his father died, but he had never had the need to use it… until now.

He carefully turned the bottle around in his hands and read the dosage information. It recommended no more than 80mg spread out over a day. Chase slowly took out five of the 20mg pills figuring that it would be enough to knock him out for a couple of hours, but not high enough to be a fatal dose.

He swallowed the pills one at a time with his glass of water and then he went back to his couch and lay down, knowing that the pills would take effect quickly. He looked at his watch. it read 10:15. He set his watch alarm for twelve forty-five figuring that he would have just enough time to wake up, get back to the hospital, and return to the clinic before his shift was over. It would give him about two and a half hours to sleep.

By this time Chase was starting to feel very drowsy. His eyes began to drift shut and soon he was asleep. The horrid memory began to circle in his mind once again.

Authors Notes: Ha-Ha cliffhanger : ) Don't worry I won't leave you like this for too long expect another update this weekend.

Now please review, tell me what you think, I want to know!