A/N: This will be super-AU. This chapter is designed so that you will have no idea who's who or what's happening. That comes later. One of the main cast, however, is not represented here. I won't tell you which one. And just for the record, every break switches people.
If you hate AU, you will despise this story. The whole point is my AU, the one I wish could happen but would ruin the plot of the actual show. It will probably be House/Chase slash—no wait, let me rephrase that. It will definitely be House/Chase, but that is not the whole point. I will do a spinoff when I get to that point in which the slash will be the whole point, but in this I have plans to actually do something. Something that will make a serious crossover more than likely. Please stick around, and don't knock it till you try it. Crossovers will contain the most minimal, vague spoilers I can manage, and will not require seeing the actual show, book, or movie.
Okay, this has been a long A/N, so on with the fic!
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It's been years, literal years, since I turned them all in. And it doesn't make any sense to me. It hasn't made sense since I first came to this hospital to work, and I found out who I'd be working with. That person… I expected all of them to be in jail. But I guess this one dodged it.
So now I'm in a hospital, where there are all sorts of drugs I can be fed, and I'm working with someone I would easily expect to drug me and kill me. Things like this tend to be sort of stressful.
And I can't even get out of it. If I left, what might happen to the gen?
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I can still see them. God, I can still see them every time I close my eyes. All the gens who were gunned down when the white coats found out they'd been turned in. Only a handful of them were left by the time the place was shut down.
I expected to go to jail. I really did. I mean, what other option was there? Surely not a hospital. If anyone had told me before it happened that I was going to work in a hospital, I would have told them to get some air holes drilled in their skull. Either that or prescribed anti-psychosis medication. Who in their right mind would trust a convicted mass murderer around sick and dying people? Apparently, human stupidity knows no bounds.
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I thought things couldn't get worse when they told me I was a gen. I thought things couldn't get worse when cellular breakdown started. Then I though things couldn't get worse when I got hooked on Terrafen, then when I found out that I was developing a resistance to it. I was absolutely sure things couldn't get worse when I saw all of them shot, gunned down like trash.
But this takes the prize.
I'm working with the one who rounded us up for them to kill.
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I know the gen must have found it. The Terrafen keeps disappearing whenever I get my hands on more. This one must not know how expensive the stuff is to make or to get, or it would seem suspicious that I didn't move it. It probably does anyway, but the gen needs it. You can't question where the stuff you need comes from. You'd wind up dead.
We're all damned, in this place. So many people die, and we're here to see it. Every one of us is damned so many times over, we'll be in hell before we even have the chance to die.
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So many of them. I see all of them every day. The gen, and the one who made the gen. Both afraid of what the other knows. The one who made the miracle drug, Terrafen. The drug that could save so many lives if it weren't so damn near impossible to make. The one who turned all of them in.
The mole.
The one the government sent in, unaware of who or what it can do. Bugged in every sense of the word. The government's spy, sent here unknowingly to make sure the gen and the maker stay good. If they turn on us, the mole has a failsafe that will kill us all.
And I keep them around.
What kind of a fool am I?