Dr. Robert Chase strode down the hospital corridor, House's last patient's file in his hands. Cuddy had asked to see it, he wasn't sure why. It wasn't really his business what went on between House and Cuddy. He stopped outside the doors to her office, stretching and wincing. He had been insanely sore for about half an hour now. He'd gone running that morning, but he did that everyday. And this wasn't just sore. It was more of a dull, pounding ache resonating throughout his body.
Aah, oh well. It'd probably be gone in a while. He pushed Cuddy's doors inward and stepped inside.
"Hey," he greeted. "I brought you that file."
Cuddy smiled, gratified. Chase handed them to her and stepped back, stretching again. Cuddy must have noticed the tightness in his face because she asked if he was alright. He nodded.
"Fine, just really sore. I don't-." Suddenly he fell to his knees, gasping. Cuddy jumped up and dashed around her desk.
"Chase? What's wrong? Chase?!" He grabbed her wrist, and looked up. Cuddy found herself staring into his eyes, and for a moment she saw a pain and desperation she had never seen in Chase before. Then he looked back down, and it was gone, but the memory lingered. It had shaken her.
After a moment Chase relaxed, his breathing shallow. He struggled to his knees, leaning against Cuddy's desk.
"Well—what was that?" She asked.
He shrugged, looking bewildered. "I-I don't know."
They both looked up when they heard the door open. Dr. James Wilson looked in, head cocked, brow scrunched.
"Is everything okay?" He asked, concerned upon seeing them on the floor.
Cuddy nodded. "Yeah. Chase just—."
Suddenly Chase leaned over again and moaned, arms tight around his abdomen. Cuddy shook her head as she helped him away from the desk.
"-did that." She finished dryly.
Chase was gasping through his teeth. Wilson knelt next to him, bracing him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Chase?" He asked gently. "What is it? Stabbing pain? Cramping?"
Chase shook his head. "Both." He ground out.
"Can you give me a number?"
The young Australian doctor collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
"Yeah, I'd say that's pretty bad." Wilson sighed.
* * * *
Chase woke up in an overly bright, sterile room. He looked down and saw he was dressed in a hospital robe. Hearing something beside him, he glanced over and saw Cuddy looking worriedly down at him. When she saw that he was awake, she smiled.
"Hey- how are you?"
He rubbed his eyes with a hand. "Fine. Could be better. Still sore. What did you give me?"
"A few cc's of morphine and a muscle relaxant."
"How long was I out?"
"About fifteen minutes."
Chase nodded, then grimaced. Cuddy frowned.
"Something wrong?"
He shook his head. "No. Like I said, I'm still just really sore. I can't think of why."
Cuddy turned to leave. "Well…. I'll have someone check up on you every few minutes, alright?"
Chase nodded, and she left shaking her head. Once she got around a corner, she stopped and leaned against the wall. She was worried. Honestly, she'd gathered a fondness for Chase over the years. He just seemed so gentle and innocent, however naïve sometimes. She sighed and hoped whatever was wrong turned out to be nothing.
* * * *
House stared unhappily down at the three stark white Vicoden pills on his desk. Sometimes he wondered how many he could take within the course of a day and not be hospitalized. Someone at the door made him look up. It was Wilson. House quickly swallowed the pills dry as the other doctor walked into his office. Wilson stared at him.
"Did you just take three Vicoden?" He questioned.
House rose an eyebrow. "Sorry, mommy, did I break the rules?" He threw the pill bottle at Wilson, who reflexively caught it before it hit his face. He peered down at the transparent orange item in his hand.
"Empty!? He exclaimed. "House, I just gave these to you four days ago!!"
"Did I eat too much candy again?" House pouted, still playing the part of an ignorant child.
Wilson rolled his eyes. "House, stop it. You know I can't write you another prescription for three more days!"
House said nothing, but stood. Wilson noticed the slight tremble in his hands as he leaned heavily on his cane.
"House, are you okay?" Wilson inquired worriedly.
"Fine." House snapped. "Now you came here for a reason. What is it?"
Wilson handed him a file, taken aback by House's sudden change in tone.
"It's Chase. He collapsed in Cuddy's office this morning after having severe abdominal pains."
"Are you sure he's not pregnant?" House asked. Wilson glared at him as he continued to flip through the file. "Black widow bite." House stuck the file out at the oncologist. Wilson didn't take it.
"Negative tox screen. Besides, we couldn't find a bite."
"Maybe it hasn't swelled."
"House, where the symptoms are, he would have to have been bitten at least two hours ago. There would be swelling, severe localized pain, and definitely marks. There is nothing. Besides, he hasn't had any of the other normal symptoms. Like anxiety, sweating, salivating... It's not a widow bite."
House tucked the folder under his arm and started for the door, but stumbled and almost fell. Wilson braced his shoulders, alarmed.
"Ha." House said, looking at Wilson as if to say "gotcha", but Wilson could see the pain in his friend's eyes. He shook his head.
"Where are you going?"
"To check up on my patient."
* * * *
"Well, this is new. Actually visiting a patient?" Chase needled from his bed.
"This one's cuter than the rest." House shot back. "After all, I love Australians."
Chase clenched his teeth as another wave of cramping hit. House walked over to the side of the bed, cane tapping on the tiled floor.
"You're not even on a drip?! Who the heck set you up?"
"Cuddy."
"Figures. She was probably so busy worrying she forgot to do anything." He sneered, setting up an IV.
He slid the needle into Chase's wrist and turned the drip up to 6cc's an hour, injecting about 2 directly into his IV line. Chase almost immediately relaxed. House sat next to the bed.
"So. What happened?"
"If I knew that, I probably wouldn't be here."
"Obviously, stupid. How bad was it?"
".. Seven and a half."
"That bad."
Chase nodded.
"Well," House began, starting to stand but falling back to the seat and grimacing. Chase's eyebrow rose.
"You alright?"
"You're the one in the hospital bed." House muttered, rubbing his thigh.
Chase didn't respond. In fact, he had gone completely silent. House looked up. Chase had gone pale and was trembling. No, wait—not trembling--shaking. Violently. House swore under his breath.
"Nurse!"
He leaned over the bed, struggling to hold the convulsing doctor still while searching for a syringe. A young female in scrubs ran into the room. After quickly assessing the situation, she held Chase as best as she could, keeping him from hurting himself so House was free to look for a sedative. He searched through the drawers, wondering what idiot had moved the drug from it's normal place. After a glance at the room number, he realized it had probably been him.
Finally, he emerged victorious, and quickly filled the syringe with 5cc's of a moderate sedative, struggling to inject it into Chase's upper arm. The blonde-haired form slowly sank back into the hospital bed, eyes closed, skin deathly pale.
* * * *