JUST A LITTLE IDEA I HAD. SOME OF THE EVENTS MIGHT NOT HAVE HAPPENED ON THE SHOW, BUT STILL REASONABLY IN CHARACTER. PLEASE REVIEW J
Chase often would lie in bed at night, unable to fall asleep. His mind would drift off to his female colleague, Remy "Thirteen" Hadley. He knew it was inappropriate, but House and Cuddy were dating. They were the "parents", and House's ducklings were the kids. Kids are supposed to follow their parents' example. So, that was how Chase justified it. Almost always, the last thought Chase would have before he fell into a slumber would be about Thirteen's eyes. They were very cat-like, and they were a beautiful green. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew that if she were an animal, she would be a cat. And not one of those sleep-in-the-window-all-day ones, but a more exotic one. She was a go-getter, and her temper was known to flare occasionally. He couldn't quite place his finger on which cat, though. She wasn't a lion, or a cheetah, or a tiger. She would be a small cat, with lots of hair to hide the fact that that cat is small, and vulnerable. That's what she does. She hides behind her walls, pretends she's okay and really doesn't care if she dies, but in reality, she is vulnerable. Chase would never think of her that way. He knows she isn't, or more or rather, wants to believe that she isn't, but a nagging thought in the back of his head always seems to convince him otherwise. A cat also has nine lives. This, Chase thought, definitely applied to Thirteen. He could come up with 8 occasions that he was with her when something bad probably should've happened to the woman he loved, but didn't.
The first time was when they were out searching a patient's home. It was a really old house. It had to have been built at least two years prior to the patient even buying the house. As the two walked through the house, they came upon the basement. The stairs looked rickety, and they both paused. 'I'll go', she had said. 'I'm lighter.' Though Chase was hesitant about letting her go, she had made a valid point. 'Fine. But hold the railing really tight.' He said after a moment. As she took the first step, she said, 'Don't worry, I'll be fine.' As soon as the words left her mouth, the wood snapped, and down she went. Luckily, she was only about 6 feet above the ground, however, the floor underneath was cement. They chose to restore the floor of the basement of all things! Chase had thought while taking off to go all the way around the front of the house to get in through the storm door. It took him all of 15 seconds to do so. He busted through the door, yelling Thirteen! He had wished he had another name to call her, but that was all she had given him at the time. 'I'm fine' she'd said. He came over, and he examined her despite her protests. He touched her wrist, and she hissed. 'That hurt?' He asked, again pressing on it. 'A little' She said. 'I think it's sprained.' Chase had said. 'Wonderful' She had said with her usual sarcasm. 'Let's uh, go back, and get it wrapped up. Maybe a quick X-ray to make sure it's not broken or anything.' He said. 'Really, I'm-' She had started to say, but cut herself off when again, Chase pressed on her wrist. He didn't press hard enough to really make it hurt, but just enough to remind her that something was wrong. 'Fine.' She had said reluctantly, rolling her eyes. After the X-ray was done, it showed that she had sprained it, and a little piece had chipped off. It was a miracle that she hadn't broken her arm, the technician had told them. The way she fell, her elbow could've went through her skin. Little did Chase know, this would be the first of many occurrences when Thirteen should've had something more serious happen to her.
A couple weeks later, on the second occurrence, Chase gained the knowledge that Thirteen had a knack for getting her bones mutilated. They were driving to another patient's house (Chase didn't know why House always made them go), and for some reason, a cop pulled them over. He and his partner got out, and walked over to Thirteen's car. The cop didn't even knock on her window, just opened the door, yanked her out, and twisted her arms behind her back. The cop's partner did the same with Chase. 'Hey!' Thirteen had yelled, angry and in pain. Chase had heard the blood-freezing sound of bone snapping, and knew that Thirteen's not-yet-healed wrist was the source of the sound. The cops didn't seem to care, and had brought them down to the station. Apparently, it was all a misunderstanding. Thirteen's car looked just like that of a wanted serial killer, and the plates were almost identical. She had rolled her eyes and walked out, leaving Chase to run after her. When they got back to PPTH, House took one look at her and sent her to Cuddy. There, Cuddy and Foreman had to reset her wrist. As it turns out, she was lucky that her shoulder didn't get dislocated. Her injured wrist didn't allow her arm to move correctly, and it was nothing short of a miracle that her shoulder wasn't ripped out of it's socket by the force of the cop. His heart ached for her when he heard the snap of them breaking her wrist. First it was sprained, and then the cop messed it up, so they had to break it in order for it to heal correctly. It didn't help him when he heard her moan. He was impressed when at 8 o'clock, and they were all going home (House had ordered that Chase baby sit Thirteen to make sure she didn't get injured again), that she declined the Advil. He still felt bad though, when he heard her tossing and turning at 1:00.
The third instance was the morning after Amber had died. Wilson was taking time off, and Cuddy had told House that he wasn't aloud to leave the differential room. Chase, Taub, Foreman, and even House were sitting down, sipping their coffees. Half an hour late, Thirteen walked in. Looking, for lack of a better wording, miserable and upset, Chase knew something was wrong. She was always very careful to make sure that she always appeared okay, and today she didn't. He knew that Amber's death had struck her hard, even House had cried a little when he started remembering, but it had to have been more than a death of a could've-been colleague. So, House said something (not that that was surprising). 'You look like a bulldozer ran over you, then backed up' House has said with his usual pep. 'Thanks, and you look like you got your head cracked open and almost died and then got run over by a bus.' She had replied sarcastically. He could see her stumble on died, but recovered using bus, since that's basically why Amber died. They all knew House felt guilty, and she was going to use that against him today if he bugged her. Couldn't she just get through her death sentence in peace? 'I found something.' House said, holding up a crumpled piece of paper. Thirteen turned pale. 'House, don't.' She warned, glaring at him. 'The unlucky number has Huntington's.' As soon as House's words left his mouth, Chase felt as though he was going to cry. How could the love of his life be dying? It just wasn't fair. Thirteen was a good person. She didn't deserve this. All eyes fell onto Thirteen. Chase knew she didn't like attention, especially when she was fighting tears, but couldn't help but look. He wanted her to know that she could count on him for support. He felt so bad for her. She had stood there for a moment, shocked, then practically ran out, and Chase could tell she was trying hard not to cry. As she was speed-walking down the hall, a team of Oncologists came running down the same hall wheeling a patient who needed emergency surgery. She had gotten knocked down, and her head was hit. Two nursed found her, and paged the rest of House's team. They came running, and immediately took her to the CT lab. The scan, surprisingly, came out clean. Chase had decided that from now on, he was going to wrap her in bubble wrap.
The fourth time was when she and House were taken hostage. Little did anyone know, the reason he "refused to play the game" was because if something happened to her, he was pretty sure he'd go in there and shoot the guy. Over the course of the ordeal, he had heard little snippets of information, but the only ones that stuck with him were that Thirteen was taking all the drugs. When at last everyone was free, he was the only one that couldn't breathe a sigh of relief. Later that night, when visiting her in the hospital, he finally allowed himself to relax. He could see her for himself, and she would be fine. Reading over all of the drugs she took, he knew it was a miracle that she was alive. For that, he was thankful. He had heard from Foreman that she had decided to take part in the trial. He practically leapt for joy.
When Foreman's stupid trial gave her a tumor, he was about to murder the man. That was the fifth time. When Foreman went to her house to go help her, he had wished it was him helping her, comforting her. And, even more, he wanted to be the one that she let help her. When he finally did see her, though, it felt like a knife was dug into him. People have rotten luck, but no one had it this bad. She finally decides that she wants to live, and then she gets her sight taken away. When they were trying to help her regain her sight, he knew it was a long shot. Miraculously, it worked.
When the sixth time came around, Chase was about ready to tear his hair out. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. As "colleagues" (cause she was still dating Foreman at the time), he had asked her to go to a baseball game with him. 'I have an extra ticket.' He had said. 'Sure'. The word never seemed more important to him than at that moment. They were sitting in the third row, and Ortiz had hit a really hard ball. It came flying at Thirteen, who wasn't paying attention (she was busy wiping the ketchup off her shirt), and hit her on the head. Chase grabbed it when it bounced off, and later gave it to her after the hairline fracture the incident caused had healed. Thirteen was lucky that there was no hemorrhaging. She had no complications, either.
The seventh occasion was when they were eating ice cream at a stand outside. It was the summer, and was one of the hottest days. It had been a really stressful week, and her breakup with Foreman didn't help (her, anyway). He knew she wasn't one that typically liked pity and didn't want comfort, but Chase couldn't resist. He asked her, since it was their day off, if she wanted to go get some ice cream. She agreed, but only if after they could go for a run. She had some stress that she could get rid of, and he said okay. After half an hour, she suddenly stopped, and the fell over. Thankfully, House had blackmailed her once by mentioning her asthma, and Chase quickly found her inhaler. Had he given it too her 5 seconds later, her lung would've collapsed, and she could've possibly suffered brain damage. They decided to never speak of that incident.
On the eighth time, it wasn't as bad. Thirteen only fell off a balcony and broke her rib. Considering that balcony was about 15 feet high, it was a very minor injury. How she had managed to fall off, Chase still didn't know. He knew she was checking for mold, but didn't think she leaned over the railing. It didn't really matter now, there was no internal bleeding, and she'd be just fine. House almost complained to Cuddy that Chase was trying to murder her, but didn't.
Now, while sitting there, Chase wasn't sure if Thirteen could survive this. A cure was discovered. It had a 99% success rate. It was two weeks after they had given her the cure, and it didn't work. She was that 1 in 100 people that it didn't work for. He felt so bad. Currently, she had locked herself in the bathroom, and it didn't look like she'd be coming out any time soon. He knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to pretend that this didn't bother her, that she didn't care. He hated her stubbornness, but also recognized that she needed to do this for herself.
A cat has nine lives, and she could not escape, and couldn't deny that in a few years, Huntington's is going to kill her. This is her ninth life, and her last.