House sighed, opening the door to the exam room, then stopped, frowning, as the only person present was Chase. He tilted his head, "where's the patient?"

"Um... here..." Chase was standing next to the exam table, looking embarrassed, but not entirely ashamed, "I think I separated my shoulder, but I can't x-ray it myself."

"Why'd you page me, instead of your girlfriend."

"Cameron left again, remember?"

"Not her. The nymphet you work with."

"What–Thirteen?"

"Yes Thirteen."

"I don't–I'm not into her."

"How'd you hurt your shoulder then?"

"She told you?"

"She told Wilson, Wilson thought it was cute."

"Why was she talking to Wilson, anyway?"

"He was trying to decide what kind of bracelet to buy his ex-wife and she was the first set of ovaries he ran into."

Chase snorted, "yeah, I was trying to impress her."

"You're saying you want her to want to do you for other reasons than wanting to actually do her."

"I'm saying... I like her. But I don't want to have a relationship–with her, or any other girl. Not after Cameron."

"Great. Sounds like you're really getting on with your life."

"I don't mean I'm never going to have another relationship... just... can we get on with the x-ray taking?"

"Absolutely."

Chase chuckled a little, and picked up his jacket with the arm he hadn't rammed into a large slab of wood with the weight of his entire body. They walked to the radiology lab, and Chase bent down to put his jacket on the floor. He winced slightly, as he straightened, fixing his eyes on a spot across the room, and House stopped, "Chase?"

Chase shook his head, "I said I think I have a separated shoulder. Those do tend to hurt."

"I don't care about that."

Chase looked confused, "then why did you stop?"

House shook his head, studying his employee's face, "your pupils are dialated."

"They are?"

"They are for if you were taking pain medication."

"I'm not. I'm working, I'm not going to be treating patients on narcotics–no offense."

"I don't care enough about what you say to be offended by it, no matter what it is."

Chase snorted, "well, then I suppose yes offense, if it doesn't matter."

House shook his head, "lie down on the table."

Chase climbed up, and laid down, putting his good arm behind his head. House got a lead apron, and put it over him, then positioned the machine, frowning slightly, when Chase had to suck in a sharp breath to keep from making noise, when he put the x-ray plate under the younger man's shoulder.

Chase looked up and him, briefly, then closed his eyes, making House frown, "what?"

"Nothing."

"It's clearly not... whatever, not like I care."

House limped to the control panel, and took the x-ray, then went back to reposition Chase's arm. Chase was pale, by the end of the second exposure, and seemed slightly dizzy after sitting up. House rolled his eyes, gripping Chase's good arm, "don't fall off the table and hurt your other shoulder."

Chase smiled, faintly, and nodded, "I'm okay. Just pretty sure it is dislocated."

"Well, you're lucky it was the acromioclavicular joint, not the actual humerus. It should heal fine without physical therapy."

Chase nodded, sliding off the table, and picking up his jacket, injured arm held close to his chest. They waited for the x-rays to be developed, and House stuck them up on the lightbox, tiling his head. Chase's clavicle was very clearly not where it was supposed to be, nestled into the top of the scapula. House looked at the younger doctor, who was leaning against the wall, holding his shoulder, "you'll need to have it reduced."

Chase glanced at the x-rays, nodded, and straightened off the wall, walking quickly towards the door. House frowned, watching him, then limped after the younger doctor, grabbing a basin off a table and catching up just in time to shove it into Chase's hand.

He watched, as Chase retched, and eventually vomited into the bowl, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor, hunching forwards over the curved dish. Eventually, the younger doctor finished puking, but he was still pale, and clearly in pain.

House reached down, taking the basin, "I'll wash this out. Try to stay conscious."

Chase nodded, miserably, holding on to his shoulder. By the time House returned, he found Chase looking a lot better, though still a little pale, "how bad was it?"

"Not that bad. I just throw up really easy in reaction to pain."

House sighed, "well, did it calm down?"

Chase nodded, "yeah."

"Right. I paged Stern from ortho to exam room two, she'll put your shoulder back together."

Chase nodded, getting to his feet, "thanks. And... uh..."

"What?"

"Could you possibly not tell anyone how I hurt it...?"

House snorted, shaking his head, "why would I?"

"To screw with me."

"If someone finds out, it'll be from Thirteen or Wilson, not me. Mostly because it's not nearly as embarrassing as other stuff I'll be telling people."

He watched Chase smile briefly, nod, and walk off towards the exam room, awkwardly gripping his shoulder and holding his jacket at the same time. House shook his head, slightly amused at his usually fairly smooth employee injuring himself trying to impress a girl.

Though... Chase had been oddly specific, when he had said he didn't want to date another girl... House smirked a bit, shaking his head. That would be...interesting, to say the least.