Soooooo, yeah. This is like the first chapter, except done the Robert Chase way. Complete and utter stupidity that he only gets away with 'cause he's pretty. = = Naw, I'm just kiddin'. He's got a brain in there... somewhere.
Chase stared into the glass tabletop, into the eyes of his reflection. He'd been feeling off for a few days, and was glad he could just sit without having someone's life be on the line. He wasn't sick; or at least, the Tylenol he'd been taking hadn't done anything but make him drowsy.
Ironic, that I can't figure out what's wrong with me, he thought. He relaxed, letting his eyes close. It's easier to figure out what's wrong with you when you just sit and be.
His stomach. It didn't feel queasy exactly, more like how it would feel if he was standing on a boat; rocking slightly.
His chest. Something was making his chest feel all tight, and sometimes it would cause his heart to beat a little faster than normal.
His back. He was getting an uncomfortable itching sensation, and it wouldn't go away. He'd checked his back in the mirror in his apartment. He wasn't breaking out (thank God), he wasn't getting a rash, and there didn't seem to be any skin abnormalities. Nevertheless, he was itchy. His stomach was going Sinbad on him. And his chest was giving him problems.
Maybe it's cancer, he thought wryly. And it would be just his luck to get the disease that killed his father.
House barged into the room, making an undue amount of noise with his cane. Chase, startled, jumped violently, knees banging the underside of the table. House snorted derisively. Chase cursed.
It was only when House had sent him off to break into another patient's abode that he realized that House had been looking a little stressed, and that his back, chest, heart, and stomach had all done their dysfunctional dance when House had given him the patient's file, brushing his hand slightly. Chase figured he was allergic to House's cologne or something. He'd talk to him about it later.
Chase looked into the display window of a store and found that his face had contorted into one not unlike the one House gave him when he'd said something particularly stupid. He shook his head, messing up his hair, and set his face back into his typical expression; haggard neutrality.
Chase kept walking, and a coma patient's heart monitor gave an annoyed series of beeping.
Sucked, didn't it? Review, or not.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own this, otherwise Chase would be shirtless all the time. =w=b