Wilson sat alone in his office, staring at the tower of papers piled before him. Night had fallen more quickly than he had anticipated, but the lights of the hospital maintained a pleasant façade that simulated normal waking hours. Though the halls and patient rooms were dimmed once the sun sank below the horizon, there were always those bright fluorescent beams shining down on polished tiled floors, bathing everything in a faint shade of sterile blue.
Despite the nature of the lighting in his workplace, Wilson needed no clock to assure him that it was much later than he normally worked. He had been at the office for about twelve hours, and was quickly reaching his limits. This wasn't the only long night that he had pulled in the week, and it seemed that night after night without sleep was sapping his energy with an unrivaled intensity.
Though his eyelids were threatening to slip shut, he couldn't help but be grateful as he reached for another patient file. There were only a few left for him to complete, and with a few more signatures scrawled across carbon paper, he could store hours of work away and head for his home. The thought of his bed gave him the extra motivation that he needed, and he reached for the coffee cup sitting on the edge of his desk. It was at that very moment that the obnoxious ringing of his cell phone shattered his serene world, causing him to nearly knock the paper cup on its side.
"Dammit" he cursed beneath his breath, scowling as he groped the piles of paper to find the source of the noise. At this time of night, it had to be House. That bastard was probably sitting on the couch, watching TV, and drinking scotch, all without a care in the world. Wilson couldn't remember the last time that House had stayed late to work on patient files, or to work at all. That duty always weighed on his fellows, all of whom were often stuck working full nights in the lab while House wasted his night with rich foods and alcohol.
After a few more moments of searching, Wilson finally found the cell beneath a few stray papers, and checked the caller ID that flashed across the small screen. Surprise filled him as he read the small letters, the scowl dropping from his face instantly as he read the name 'R. Chase.' Without taking a moment to hesitate, Wilson flipped the phone open and brought it to the side of his face, questioning what House's employee could want so late at night.
"What did House do this time?" he asked immediately, the better part of concern washing over him. It was by mere caution that he kept the number of all House's fellows; emergencies had a tendency to crop up, especially concerning the ornery diagnostician. Yet Chase did not reply with the series of complaints concerning his employer, as Wilson had expected. There was a short breath, and then the young doctor spoke, and it seemed as though he were laboring to speak clearly.
"I'm sorry for calling so late" Chase started, his voice peaked by what Wilson could only identify as anxiety. "It sounds like you're busy, in fact, I'm sure you are. This has nothing to do with House, I was only calling to ask a personal question, but I think I'll leave you to your work for the night-"
"Don't" Wilson cut him off, abruptly halting Chase in his farewell. The oncologist leaned back in his chair, momentarily abandoning the file that he had intended to work on, figuring that this call could take precedence for the time being. Chase's voice was thick, and his speech was faltering, as though he were impaired. As far as Wilson knew, the social blond never drank outside of a few small drinks with his friends, and the first conclusion that he arrived at was that Chase was in some trouble. Now concerned, Wilson pressed the issue. "That's fine, Chase, but is there something wrong? Are you okay? Is there something I can do for you?"
More silence met his ear, the static of breath coming through the speaker pressed against his ear. The worry that had been seeded in his gut was already growing. This behavior was so atypical of the young doctor, even such a slight change of character tuned Wilson into possible trouble. Chase spoke again, his voice still thick and slurred.
"Just, can I ask you a question?"
"Anything at all" Wilson encouraged, feeling slightly on edge. As a doctor, especially dealing with cancer patients day in and day out, he was acutely aware of emotional distress, even through no more than verbal cues. This acute empathy was what led Wilson to be such a gifted oncologist and friend, and even now, that skill failed to abandon him. The stress that was inflicted in Chase's voice stung Wilson's heart as the Chase replied.
"Am I good enough? Do you think I'm good enough?" The whisper came through the phone, Chase's voice soft and pleading, as though he were begging for some sort of release.
This time it was Wilson that was stunned into silence. This was a question that had so much hidden pain, so many grief-stricken undertones. It was a question of desperation, and one that Wilson immediately constituted as a cry for help, as pitiful as it was. Already reaching for his coat, Wilson replied in the most soothing voice he could manage, one of the relaxing tones he reserved for his patients.
"Of course you're good enough, Chase. You're a brilliant doctor, and you deserve your spot on the team. Is there something going on? Did something happen at work today?" Now the phone was sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he slid the files into a somewhat organized pile, the remaining few getting stuffed into his briefcase. Luckily, Chase didn't seem to hear the shuffling of papers, to Wilson's relief, and just kept on talking in the same disheartened tone.
"It's not work, Wilson. Don't worry. The question was stupid anyway. Sorry for bothering your evening. See you tomorrow-"
"Wait!" Wilson cut him off, trying to hide his pressing sense of urgency. "Do you need me to come and get you from somewhere? I was just leaving from work anyway. If you need a ride home, I can give you one. You really shouldn't be driving if you've had a lot to drink-" this time, it was Chase who cut him off, the usually well-tempered voice tainted with hostility.
"I haven't been drinking, and I'm not at a bar. I'm at home. I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll see you at work tomorrow. Goodnight" he finished abruptly, and before Wilson could get another word out, the line went dead. Rolling his eyes in frustration, Wilson closed the phone, and continued to pack up his things as quickly as he could. His mind was made- he was going to go take a quick stop by Chase's place to make sure that he was alright.
Being a doctor that dealt with a fair amount of pain and suffering with each passing day, Wilson knew the sound of distress, and it was painful how hard the younger doctor had been trying to feign well-being. He had seen through the guise with the first word from Chase's mouth, and now concern had been settled deeply in his mind. Chase's apartment was only a few minutes away from his own, and Wilson knew he could spare a few extra minutes if it meant that he could ensure a coworker's good health.
Throwing the jacket that he had clutched in his hand on over his shoulders, Wilson strode purposefully out of his office and shut the door behind himself. Mentally he mapped the route that he would take to arrive at the small excursion from his usual routine.
Chase had a modest apartment, one that Wilson had been to twice before when the younger man had been having some car troubles. They had the luxury of living only a few minutes apart, which made situations such as transportation quite simple on the rare occasion a carpool became necessary. But tonight there was a darker tone to Wilson's visit, but it was still a visit that he would consider complete necessity. There was no motive behind it other than a true concern for the well-being of the normally cheerful blond.
Thank you so much for reading! This will be a short, multi-chapter story featuring a conflict with Chase, and a strained friendship between House and Wilson, with a few appearances from the other team members. The setting is some time towards the beginning of Season 3. Thank you again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!