Disclaimer: don't own either ER or House, wishful thinking… but whatever.
A/N: R&R but no flames! And if you don't like slash, this will become slash eventually, however brief. Hope you like!
He walked through the hall like he owned the place. Medium build, chin length sandy blond hair and the bluest eyes this side of California; a white lab coat draped over one shoulder and one hand buried in the pocket of his dark slacks. Every eye followed him as he entered the ER and walked past the reception desk with a soft half smile as he walked to the attendings' office.
"Did you see that?" asked Abby, turning to the other doctors, but directing her question mostly to Sam and Nila.
"You mean the blonde that just walked over to the attendings' office?" asked Sam.
"Yeah, that one."
"Then yeah, I did." Ray rolled his eyes and turned to the girls, who were still staring at the door of the attendings' office.
"Alright, girls," he said, "back to work." Smiles all around as another day in the ER began, though with something to be thought about and looked forward too.
A month ago:
He was so tired of the abuse. He rested his head against his locker and took a deep breath, his blonde hair blocking his peripheral vision, so he just focused on the tiles on the floor. He was tired of having everything rubbed in his face and his mistakes made public so everyone knew if he screwed up. He was sick and tired of working here, he just wanted out. He jumped when the door opened and he spun to face the new comer. James Wilson entered, holding up a hand.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"Don't worry about it," he replied in his thick Australian accent. James nodded.
"So, you okay?"
"Yeah. I just…"
"House?" James asked, referring to the young doctor's boss. He nodded.
"Look, Chase, you can sit here and beat your head against your locker, or you can do something about it."
"I'm not beating my head against the locker."
"Alright, you're taking your anger out on the locker? I don't see any dents, but that doesn't mean anything."
"It's nothing, I'm not angry. It's just…House."
"He isn't so bad; he just likes to feel important. And in all reality, he is. You're not the only target, he treats everyone this way."
"Look, Wilson, you're House's best friend, possibly his only friend, so what ever you say about him isn't going to mean much, now is it?"
"You're right. What do you think?"
"I think…either House hates me, or he loves me. And I can't deal with either."
"So what are you going to do about it?" The young doctor passed James a sheet of paper. James looked down at it. "A transference paper?"
"I'm transferring to the ER of Chicago General. I need someone to sign it to say that I'm as good a doctor as I say I am. If you don't, I'll just get Cuddy to sign it."
"Why?" Chase looked at the older doctor so James elaborated. "Why are you leaving?"
"I can't deal with what's going on here."
"What's going on here?"
"It doesn't matter." He stood up and left.