Title: Decay and Renewal
Author: norbooboo
Genre: Alternative Universe/ Friendship
Summary: Change is messy, difficult, and painful, but sometimes good can come from bad and acceptance from adversity. When a bomb inflicts damage on the hospital and two members of the diagnostics department will things ever be the same?
A/N: Hi, this chapter turned out way longer than I expected and right after I announced that this story would be a lot of short chapters. Darn that bunny. Just a warning or two. There is some swearing in this chapter, but nothing too bad. Also, if you are a fan of Rowan Chase be warned that I don't play nice with him. And some definitions: xanthomas- a deposit of cholesterol rich material in tendons and other areas of the body apraxia- neurological disorder characterized by loss of the ability to execute or carry out learned purposeful movements, despite having the desire and the physical ability to perform the movements. Dialogue is not my strong suit and House is very difficult for me to write believably, so hope that doesn't detract. Hope you enjoy the story.
He is good to those who are good;
He is also good to those who are not good,
Thereby he is good.
He trusts those who are trustworthy;
He also trusts those who are not trustworthy,
Thereby he is trustworthy.
Decay and Renewal
3. Cherished
House had called Foreman's apartment at 8:00 in the morning, informing him that they had a case and to get himself and his dumber, blonder shadow down the the hospital before he was forced to fire him. That had been it. No hello. No waiting for a response. No see you then. He could have called back and reminded House what day it was, but it seemed easier to just comply.
He had barely made it in the doors when House slapped a patient file into his chest. Why did everything this man have to be so violent, so hard. He opened his mouth to speak, but House's attention was on Chase who himself was completely absorbed by the undulating patterns of dust particles in the sunbeam streaming through a nearby window.
"How you doing today kiddo?" House asked once Chase's attention was on him.
"Good. Made coffee all b..by myself." he said proudly.
"Well alright, let's go put that new found skill to use and make some coffee in diagnostics. Maybe we can convince Cuddy to make that a paid position."
"House...." Foreman tried to cut it.
"If I make her taste Foreman's coffee, I think I can convince her it's a humanitarian necessity." House made a face when discussing Foreman's coffee and Chase laughed, not a laugh at the boss so he likes you laugh, but an honest laugh that felt warm like drinking thick hot chocolate on a cold day. He remembered the day, not too long after his youngest team member had come out of the coma, that Foreman had rushed into diagnostics with another of his Chase updates, "He still has a sense of humor. Just about laughed his ass off when I told him about Wilson putting laxatives in his salad dressing, knowing you'd steal it and..." He would have shown more enthusiasm at the time if he hadn't been subject of the joke. He doubted Foreman would ever get tired of bringing up that incident. Revenge would have to be arranged.
"House," Foreman tried again more forcefully, "are you forgetting that I need to take Chase down to Virginia today. He's...." Somehow he couldn't get the words 'leaving today' passed his lips and figured the pause would be enough for House to interrupt.
"Well, this patient can't wait, so the great Dr. Chase will have to, or he can cancel his speech and come here to get his son. He should understand just how busy we doctors are, don't you think?"
Dr. Rowan Chase had been contacted about his son's 'accident' just hours after the explosion. It was assumed that a father would be on the next plane to be with their child, but that had not happened. Instead the elder Dr. Chase had deferred to Foreman as to Chase's medical care and proceeded to 'clear his calendar' so that he could travel to the states. A world renowned rheumatologist must have a very busy calendar because a week became a month and one month became three. Now after so much had happened, after a family had formed around Chase like a band-aid, the man was coming to rip the bandage off. It was going to sting.
"Unless you can't wait to be rid of your shadow here," House added, eyebrows cocked in challenge.
Foreman went rigid. "Don't say that. Don't worry Chase, he doesn't mean it."
"Of-course, he knows I don't mean it." House replied in a 'well, duh' tone that he reserved for Foreman alone, slinging an arm around Chase's shoulders. It wasn't worth acknowledging because House would deny it and mock the suggestion, but there was undeniable affection in the gesture.
"Know he d..doesn't mean it," Chase assured his friend.
"If that's settled, how about we save a life."
"Yeah, cause you're all about the people House." Foreman followed as House led the way to the elevators. Chase was being swept along with House, the older man's arm still around his shoulders.
"Hey, kiddo how about we sneak into the surgeons' lounge and watch that Dog Whisperer show. Today's the day, I feel it, that guy's going to get a good ass bite." The last two words were said with far too much relish as he stabbed the elevator button with his cane.
"Uh, House, remember... patient, saving a life? How about we work on a diagnosis?"
"We'll get right on that...after you get a history."
"House there isn't even anything in this file, just a patient name."
"Oh, I'm sorry....." House paused for a beat and then added, "She's in room 412. Have fun; get me lots of juicy information. Medically relevant is great. Fodder for Penthouse Forum is better" The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and as the doors slid open Foreman found himself being forced into the hallway by his boss's cane.
"House, I need to call Dr. Chase."
"Got it covered Mr. Responsibility." House mocked as the doors closed.
***** ***** *****
House was up to something and it just wasn't the day for it. Foreman had only had a week to prepare for Chase's dad coming to get him. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but for some reason it sure the hell wasn't Dr. Rowan Chase finally deciding to do something about his son's situation in the form of whisking Chase away to Australia. Of course it shouldn't have been surprising, why wouldn't a father want his son to be near him. As much as Foreman had come to feel like he was Chase's brother, feeling didn't make it so. Arriving at room 412, he took a deep breath to clear his thoughts before entering the room a false smile forced on his lips.
"Good morning Miss...Danner."
***** ***** *****
As far as House was concerned, the surgeons' lounge was the most comfortable in the whole hospital and he couldn't understand it. Surgeons were just necessary skilled labor, in his opinion. Someone else did the mental heavy lifting. Someone else, like himself, figured out what needed to be done; figured out the puzzle, drew a map, and they just dug where they were told to. On the other hand they did need to deal with the patients' families with all of that irrational emotion and cloying need for support. Then again, they usually didn't have to say more than a few words to the patient themselves. Diagnosticians had no choice but to deal with the damn patients. Well, he didn't himself, not when he could help it, but his point stood. Surgeons sucked and he deserved to use their lounge whenever he wanted to.
"Dr. House, this lounge is for the surgical staff. It really isn't appropriate for you to be here." A tall doctor with a neat greying mustache and short salt and pepper hair was standing behind where House and Chase sat on the couch watching TV. His hands were on his hips, trying to convey the image that he was not intimidated by House. He was failing.
House whipped around. "Ttsss!" He did his best imitation of the Dog Whisperer. "I guess it doesn't work on doctors." Chase laughed and that was all the encouragement House needed to continue. "Maybe I should start my own show called The Doctor Whisperer. We've discovered that 'ttsss' thing doesn't work how about 'Malpractice!' He shouted the last actually making the surgeon jump and his eyes widen.
"Dr. House, you need to leave."
"Yeah, yeah. You see Chase," House turned his attention to his companion as they got up to go, "This is why I always had you do my cutting for me. Surgeons suck."
The surgeon made an exasperated face at House and then addressed Chase, "How are you Robert?" he asked in a slow loud voice. It made House cringe. The self important condescending jerk thought he was doing this the right way. He wasn't just being uncomfortable. He thought he was being compassionate and understanding. Jeez, House hated people sometimes. Okay, a lot of times.
"Ff..ffine. How are you?" Chase replied copying the annoying, condescending tone of voice and then rolling his eyes, as if to say 'Can you believe this jerk?' This time it was House's turn to laugh.
"Even the Half-Brain has got you pegged."
***** ***** *****
Cameron and Foreman were already in diagnostics when House and Chase arrived. Foreman was writing symptoms on the white board and Cameron was beginning to make coffee.
"Hey, get away from that."
At House's command, Foreman backed away from the white board and held the marker out for him.
"No, not you," House said with a shake of his head, "you." He jabbed his cane at Cameron. "That's Chase's job."
Cameron looked at House doubtfully, but the confident happy look on Chase's face as he moved to take the bag of coffee grounds from her, kept her from saying anything.
"Okay, thrill me with your vast knowledge of our patient, Foreman. Dazzle me with your thoughtful and thorough assessment of her symptoms. Or just do what you usually do, doesn't matter to me." House eased himself into one of the conference room chairs massaging his thigh as he did so. Damn thing was aching like a son of a bitch. He pulled out his vicodin and popped a couple as he half listened to what Foreman was reporting.
"Patient is a nineteen year old female, just started at Princeton. No job on or off campus. She's on the row team. Xanthomas, sudden onset of arthritis, shortness of breath, and chest pain during exercise. An echo showed some deterioration of the soft tissue of the left ventricle. Otherwise she's in good health." Foreman set down the file and as House showed no signs that he was going to do it, retrieved the marker and added shortness of breath and chest pain to the xanthomas and arthritis that were already on the board.
"Yeah, perfect health, other than the dying bit." House was speaking to his team, but his attention was mostly on Chase. It was actually painful to watch. Although Chase didn't lose all executive function as was originally feared he seemed to lack the ability to make plans and that coupled with the persistent apraxia made making coffee a monumental task for the young man. House watched him as he moved two steps back in the process for every one forward. Fumbling with the coffee bag, realizing that he had nothing to scoop the grounds with, fumbling with the spoon, realizing he hadn't opened the top of the coffee machine, fumbling with the coffee machine, realizing he needed a filter, dropping the spoon.... Cameron would glance up and bite her lip. House knew just what she was thinking ; how she wanted to just take the coffee and make it herself, give Chase a hug, and then go cry somewhere. That wasn't a surprise. Foreman was another story. The old Foreman would have just made the damn coffee himself, skipped the hug and the cry, and just told House he was an ass for making Chase do something he was clearly not capable of. The Eric Foreman in the room with them now didn't stop reading the patient's history but didn't ignore his friend's need either. With a subtlety House wouldn't have credited him with, he unobtrusively helped Chase. He straightened the bag when it seemed all the grounds were about to pour to the ground, pulled open the drawer where the filters were just as Chase realized he needed one. He did that all without seeming to glance away from the file and when the task was done he held out his hand for a brotherly fist bump that Chase returned with a shy smile. It wasn't a condescending "Good boy" gesture. It wasn't a self-indulgent "Aren't I great with the dummy" sign. It was a genuine acknowledgement that a difficult task had been completed. It was pride and friendship; it was a private moment between brothers and House looked away, a little uncomfortable with the emotion.