Just a little story I thought of while studying for exams. I'll probably keep adding to the story, but only if I get some reviews. I own nothing. Enjoy!

"Hey, Wilson? Could you pick me up?"

Chase never expected to need to ask Wilson to pick him up, but today was a day of firsts. Before calling Wilson, he called Cameron, and Foreman. Foreman failed to answer his phone and Cameron flat out told him no. Not wanting to call House, or wait for the bus he called Wilson in a final attempt.

He could only imagine what Wilson would say when he picked him up at the hospital with his hair completely shaved off. This was the fourth chemotherapy treatment he had undergone and the effects were finally starting to take drastic tolls. He had a pounding headache and realized with a sickening feeling he couldn't go on living like this. He would tell Cuddy about his cancer, asking her for a leave of absence until he got better or maybe died. Funny, he never thought he would die like this.

It was cold outside with the snow covering the pavement from the ground. Without his hair and considerably less body fat, Chase felt cold. Before each new chemotherapy treatment he weighed himself and found he lost ten pounds over the course of less than a month. Despite what House said about him not being a good liar, he hadn't told anyone about the cancer and kept it to himself.

After the treatment he usually made it out in time to catch the night bus, but someone stopped him and started talking with him so he missed the night bus and would have to wait at least another hour before one came along.

Wilson had practice from picking up House so many times on what to take with him and where to go. Initially when Wilson thought Chase wanted a ride he thought maybe Chase was drunk, but then Chase asked to be picked up at the hospital fifteen minutes away. Maybe he had a conference? But Wilson knew it was too late to give a conference and why wouldn't he bring his own car in that case?

Wilson increased his speed, just barely making the yellow light. He couldn't help it, he cared about people. He'd never admit it, but Chase was his favorite out of House's ducklings. Foreman was too aloof, Cameron too girly, and although Chase had his own flaws, Wilson liked him a bit more. It seemed that Chase always knew when to mind his own business or ask Wilson if he needed anything. Chase wasn't as bright as Foreman was, but a little smarter than Cameron.

He saw a thin man waiting on the steps to the hospital with Chase's familiar sling bag and realized that skinny man was Chase. When Chase walked over to the car, Wilson saw his hair was gone.

"Chase, wha-"

"I have cancer."

Chase cut off Wilson, sliding into the warm car and strapping his seatbelt on. Wilson looked shocked, his eyebrows almost disappearing completely into his hairline and his jaw slightly open. Wilson focused on the road, trying not to look at this new, haggard, and hairless Chase.

"When?"

"They found it a little over a month ago."

Wilson wanted to ask more questions, but Chase yawned loudly, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window.

"What type?"

"Gastric"

Wilson shook his head, how could he not have noticed Chase's slight changes in behaviour?

He remembered at the beginning of the month how Chase had 'forgotten' his lunch. Or how he ran out of the room during a diagnosis to use the restroom. That one morning when House and him had thought Chase went out for all night drinking because he looked like crap in the morning had probably been from chemotherapy treatment. Or when he used the elevator with House, ignoring House's remarks about how he had two good legs to use the stairs.

"I appreciate you picking me up. I usually take the bus but I had something else that kept me."

"Usually? How many times have you had chemo?"

"Four now; it's starting to wear me out. Can you pull over?" Chase asked nervously, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his mouth.

Wilson pulled off the road immediately, and watched as Chase fumbled out of the car and heaved his light lunch out onto the side of the road. The Australian took a moment to compose himself; taking a deep breath of winter air and steadying himself against the side of the car before settling back in.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry-side effects"

"Does House know?"

"Nope."

"Does anyone know?"

Chase stared out the window, praying that Wilson would stop asking questions.

Wilson went silent, Chase was clearly stressed and he didn't want to add any more problems. The oncologist pulled up to Chase's apartment, worried about him having to climb so many stairs to the front door.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Chase, if you ever need anyone, I'm here."

A small gracious smile appeared on Chase's pale face.

"Thanks."