Chapter I
You're worried about him

The 1st of December, 24 days until Christmas, 24 days until what would be the saddest moment House and his ducklings would share, well most of the ducklings anyway.

o O o

Robert Chase was a good looking young man. Everyone would agree to that. Another thing which everyone would agree to was that there was something mysterious about the young Australian. He was always hiding something. This always bothered Allison Cameron who had always had a little kick for Chase.

He intrigued her. She had known people who had suffered depression and acted like Chase did but yet there was something different between him and the other people; she couldn't quite put her finger on it and she thought that that might be what attracted her.

Chase had been a little distant ever since he started his fellowship with House so people never really took much worry at it. That's just who he was. Some nurses would joke that if you were to look up 'secretive' in the dictionary that you would find a picture of Robert Chase beside the definition.

But as Halloween had drifted by, the other doctors found that Chase had changed significantly. He had begun acting differently. He was much more aggressive about his point of views when they were discussing cases in the conference room and he seemed more irritable than usual. Even House's regular stupidity had begun to tick him off.

"What's wrong with you Chase?" House had asked after yet another one of his fellow's outbursts. "It's very distracting and remarkably annoying to have you're constantly freaking out on us."

Frowning, Chase gave a deep sigh. "Would you just leave me alone House?" He asked angrily as he turned to walk away.

"Oh no you don't." House persisted, gripping Chase's wrist to pull him back. House was shocked when his thumb and fingers overlapped each other around Chase's arm. "If you ever want to leave this office, you will tell me what's going on Robert."

Chase was caught of guard to hear House use his first name. House hadn't been referred to him as Robert since before he got the job. Looking down at his shoes, Chase spoke. "I'm just going through a tough time all right?"

"No it's not all right. You've been acting like… this since Halloween. I don't know what's going on but we've all noticed and we're all concerned about you." House spoke reluctantly as if someone were holding a gun to the back of his head. Yet there was something sincere in the soft tone of his eyes.

"There's nothing wrong. I'm doing fine." His voice was not convincing but House knew that he would not be able to get through to the young doctor. He would have to get Cameron to talk to him. "May I leave now?" Chase asked impatiently.

House waved him out and plopped down into his chair. With a pen in his hand and a small pad of paper sitting in front of him, House jotted down a few notes. When the door to his office suddenly burst open, House nearly jumped out of his skin, his heart skipping a few beats.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He asked aggressively, feeling his heartbeat slowly calm down.

"Why, did it work?" Wilson posed with a light chuckle.

House smirked unhappily. "What do you want? Can you not see I'm busy?"

Wilson chuckled again at his friend who seemed to be doing nothing. House then shook his pad of paper in front of his colleague. "Oh, are you already working on a case?"

"Nope. Well not really. Have you noticed anything "different" about anyone, in particular?"

Wilson looked confused. "Who is anyone?" House just gazed at him, telling him with his eyes to guess. "Chase?"

"Ding, ding, ding."

Shrugging his shoulders, Wilson said, "I don't know. He has been looking a little more rundown than usual for the past month or so I guess. Is he causing problems?"

House rolled his eyes. "Not so much causing problems as he is the problem. He's being weird." Wilson gave his friend a look-who's-talking stare but House just wiped it away. "He seems to be seeping away into nothing. I've seen these kinds of cases but only ever in crazy depressed teenage girls, never a grown man."

"Well, Chase was on anti-depressants before he came here. I'm not sure if he still is though. That's not your only concern is it?" Wilson inquired, certain that there was more to House's interest in Chase than what he was letting show. "You're worried about him." He accused amusedly. "About his wellbeing. Well, well, well, I never thought I'd be seeing the day when Gregory House was genuinely interested in the welfare of another human being."

"Shut up." House said weakly, knowing that Wilson had hit the spot, not to mention dead on.

He did actually care a lot about his little Chase. He had never told anyone, but Chase reminded him of his little brother, Mark, who died when he was 17 of substance abuse. House was 20 at the time and had loved his brother to death. They had been through a lot together and when they were 16 and 19 their mother and their sister, Mark's twin, died in car accident. Mark had taken it the hardest and had turned to alcohol and drugs. It was cocaine that killed him. On Christmas Eve, many years ago, the young Mark House was due to celebrate the Holidays with his brother at his apartment in Boston. When the clock struck 11 and Mark still hadn't arrived back home, House figured he would go and visit a few of Mark's friends to see if they knew where he was. When House got outside, out the building on Knapp St. he found his younger brother sprawled on the cement steps dressed in a pair of torn cargo pants, a flannel plaid shirt and ratty work boots with an empty bottle of booze clutched in his dirty hand. Panic-stricken, House dropped to his brother's side on the cold steps and felt for a pulse. Nothing. House hadn't seen his brother in a long while and he could tell by the feeble and frail appearance of his brother, that Mark had been beyond help. Seeing his brother sprawled out in front of him, dead, took away all the strength that Greg House had and abolished it. Scooping his brother up into his arms, he bawled. He cried with loud and heavy sobs.

"Are you okay House?" Wilson asked, putting a warm hand on his friend's shoulder. House had zoned out, thinking about Chase and then his brother whom he had forcedly forgotten. As a tear ran rebelliously down House's cheek, Wilson pulled up a chair and sat beside him. "What's going on?"

House looked at Wilson. He had forgotten that he was there. "Nothing." He whispered. "I'm fine." He stated, attempting to regain his composure.

Chuckling lightly, Wilson said, "House, I believe that about as much as you believe that Chase is fine." House nodded his head understandingly. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"No." He said bluntly, letting out a light laugh at the look Wilson gave him. "Chase reminds me of my dead crack head brother okay? And I don't want him to hurt like Mark did. I don't want him to kill himself too alright? That's all. Now leave before I start crying."

Wilson rolled his eyes, grinning secretly. I made House open up; maybe for only 15 seconds but still. He was proud of himself for succeeding at prying open the stone doctor's emotions.

"So what have you got written there about Chase?"

House looked up at Wilson with surprise. "This isn't about Chase."

"Yes it is. What does it say?" Wilson persisted and House sighed.

"Foreman, Cameron and I have been noting down little things about Chase since mid November. Since he started changing."

As Wilson exited House's office, his mind was still stuck on House telling him about his brother. I didn't know he had a brother. Maybe that's a bit of what makes that crazy man so bitter and unhappy. Blinded in his deep thoughts, Wilson didn't even realize where he was going. His mind must have been set on automatic roam. As he passed by House's office again he walked right into Chase who had been hurrying towards House's office after being beeped by him.

"Woah, are you okay?" He asked the young doctor who had been knocked to the ground. That's weird. Wilson thought. He thought that Chase was a big enough guy to have just stumbled back at most. But instead he fell to the ground like a small child. "How hard did I run into you?" Wilson asked.

Chase looked up at him, almost scared. "I don't know." He mumbled. His voice was shaky and difficult to understand. Chase continued to sit on the ground. When Wilson offered down his hand, Chase pondered a moment before taking it. "Thanks." He muttered and hurried away.

As Wilson walked away, the scene of 20 seconds before replayed in his mind. Chase falling to the ground. It had felt like Wilson had simply run into bag of feathers. He fell down like a child's doll. As he gripped Chase's hand he felt like it disappeared into his, the same way his wife's did. Thin and delicate, fragile.

"You're all here I see." House said as he limped into the room. "So why are we here?" He asked them. They all stared at him confusedly. "Oh right, I called you here." Chase rolled his eyes at House as he chewed on the butt of his red pen. "Don't roll your eyes at me Robert."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because it's your name, and it annoys you. I like that." He said before turning serious. "Young man, 16, hemophiliac, head cold. What is it?"

The doctors suggested a few things, each of which was vetoed by House. "Wrong, wrong, wrong. Have I not taught you anything?"

House gave a small lecture to his ducklings and barely paying attention to himself. Out of nowhere, Chase let out a little cry. "What?" House asked annoyed.

"My pen just burst." Chase said, ink all over his hand, the collar of his pale blue shirt and dripping down his chin.

House began laughing at him.

"It's not funny." He said, getting up as Foreman and Cameron tried to hold back their laughs. Chase rolled his eyes and hurried out of the room, hearing his three colleagues laughing hysterically.

In the bathroom, Chase looked himself over. He could see how much he was changing physically and wondered if others were noticing it just as much. Ever since Halloween, he had been losing weight faster and faster. At first it wasn't too bad, but as his depression increased he just didn't want to eat. He tried forcing himself but couldn't keep very much down.

His clothes had begun getting looser and looser. He was thankful that it didn't show too much in his face but it was apparent everywhere else. He knew that Wilson knew for certain that something was up because of the look he had given him when he just fell down like a little kid and it scared Chase even more when he saw that his thin hand disappeared in Wilson's.

"He knows." Chase told himself. Suddenly, he heard his stomach grumble. He told himself that he would get something substantial to eat when lunch time came around. That probably wasn't true though. Once he got as much of the ink off his face and hands as he could, he headed back to the conference room.

Chase stopped in front of the door to the conference room when he heard the other doctors saying his name. "Yeah I know; I'm worried about him too." Cameron added after House expressed his worries about Chase. "Is it just me or do all his clothes seem to be getting baggier on him?"

"It's not just you." Foreman said reluctantly. As much as he hated to admit it to them, he had begun to worry about Chase too. "I saw him run into Wilson earlier today and he went down like he weighed 20 lbs."

House nodded. "And when I grabbed him by the arm today my hand went all the around it and then some. It was like gripping a little girl's wrist." House illustrated his point with Cameron's wrist. "Only his was thinner and boney."

Chase turned the doorknob, interrupting their conversation about him. He looked at each of them before feeling a little bit of dizziness coming over him. As his eyes rolled back, Chase fell to the ground, clunking his head on the tile floor.

R

&

R

So… What dost thou thinketh? Please review D

o

The love you can't have lasts the longest, feels the strongest and hurts the most.

- Anonymous