"You have to stay really, really still. Can you do that?" Foreman said. He straightened the pale blue pediatric gown that a nurse had helped "Joey Roberts" put on. The gown was covered with yellow ducks that had bright orange bills. House had insisted on using the moniker when the nurse was present. After all, it would look extremely odd if his team just happened to have a little blond Australian child called Robert Chase. If anyone asked, he would tell them that the kid was Chase's nephew which would also explain why Chase was not able to work on the case. So far, using Roberts as the last name had fended off any questions.
Chase nodded, "I can be still." He watched Foreman straighten his gown. "I like ducks."
"I like ducks too," Foreman agreed, but he moved on with the business at hand. "Okay, here are some earplugs," he said, extending his open palm to the child. "This machine is very loud, so it's important that you wear these to protect your ears. Like this." Foreman demonstrated the right way to use the earplugs by putting a larger pair briefly into his own ears. "Do you need help putting them in?"
Chase shook his head and took the earplugs from Foreman.
"Now, remember, be as still as you can be. And don't be afraid of the noise. Just close your eyes and try to sleep if you can." He checked both sides to make sure Chase had put the earplugs in properly.
Chase nodded that he understood.
Foreman helped position his head correctly in the plastic cradle which was also covered with a thick foam to offer more protection from the noise. "Comfortable?" he asked loudly.
"I'm okay," Chase answered.
"I'm going to be in the other room with House. If you start feeling sick or get scared, you can tell us."
Chase swallowed and nodded. The big machine was a little bit frightening, but he could handle it.
"I'm going send you into the MRI then," Foreman warned. He pressed a button and the table began to move into the machine. "Try to be very still and very quiet."
Foreman joined House in the observation room. They clicked through images of Chase's brain, paying close attention to every image.
"It doesn't look like being regressed caused any physical brain damage," Foreman commented. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He opened his mouth to say something, but saw that House was paying him no attention and did not follow through. Instead he took the microphone and said, "You're doing well, Chase."
A while later, they were looking through images of the child's upper body. House moved closer to the screen and pointed out something, "There. His arm's been broken. We check his medical records. We find out when his arm was broken and maybe we'll know more about what the witch did to him."
Foreman exhaled slowly. "He thinks his mother abandoned him."
"I know," House said, not taking his eyes away from the images flashing before him.
"I think she hurt him," Foreman said. "I didn't do the IQ test because he's already had one. I did some role playing and got him to draw for me. He has classic abused child behaviors."
"You should probably report it to the authorities," House said casually.
"House!" Foreman said his name with disgust. "He's not even old enough to go to school and someone's terrorizing him."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you cared."
"I do care."
"No you don't. That's still Chase."
"I wouldn't wish childhood abuse on anyone. I don't hate the guy."
"If you cared, you would have figured out someone knocked him around when he was a kid long ago."
"You knew?"
"I didn't realize it was taking place this early in his life, but… duh."
"How did you--?"
"We talked."
"He told you?" Foreman asked, one eyebrow arched in surprise. Chase was one of the most guarded people he had ever known and not likely to hand House or anyone else personal information. He wondered if Cameron even knew.
"No. I read between the lines." House pointed out another image, "Those two ribs have been cracked."
Foreman glanced at the image, wondering how that injury had happened and, just as importantly, when. It could have been the same incident that broke the arm or it could have been separate. He snorted bitterly, "So the great Rowan Chase let his wife beat up their kid?"
"He had more important things to deal with." House answered.
"Why aren't you mad?" Foreman asked. "Rowan Chase doesn't deserve to be known as a great doctor--"
"He was a great doctor," House said. "And he was a lousy father." He never looked away from the images.
"A great doctor wouldn't let his kid suffer needlessly," Foreman argued. Annoyed that House was not nearly as bothered by all of this as he was, Foreman decided to speak to Chase again, "How are you doing in there?" he asked.
There was no response.
"Chase?" Foreman called.
"He's probably asleep," House reasoned. He reached for the bottle that was in his pocket, shook a white pill into his hand and then popped it into his mouth.
"Chase," Foreman repeated. When there was still no response he got up and headed toward the MRI, "We should get him out of there."
"He's probably asleep," House repeated, but it did nothing to stop Foreman. Reluctantly, House followed the other man into the exam room, arriving in time to see little boy coming out of the heart of the machine. He was ashen with wet streaks marking where tears had streamed from his tightly clenched eyes.
"It's okay," Foreman said, helping Chase sit up. "What's the matter?"
The child looked far too terrorized to say anything.
Foreman patted his back with one hand while he removed the earplugs with the other. "Do you feel sick?"
Chase nodded his head. "Too loud," he whispered.
"You could have told us you were scared," Foreman reminded him. "A lot of kids get scared. A lot of adults get scared too." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at Chase's cheeks.
Chase's eyes were downcast, "I was trying to be good," he explained.
"Being scared doesn't mean you're being bad," Foreman assured him. It bothered him that Chase was not asking for his mother or father. He was four, damn it. He should want a familiar adult to be with him.
"Do I have to go back?" Chase asked timidly.
Foreman looked to House for the answer.
"I think we have what we need," he replied. He absently rubbed his hand against his injured leg.
"Can I go home now?" Chase asked.
House and Foreman exchanged a look. Foreman decided to defer to House for the answer to this question too.
"You're going to have to stay with us for a while longer," House said. It was the vaguest answer he could give.
Chase looked down. "Do you know where my mum is?" He finally asked the question they had been anticipating.
Foreman glanced at House.
"You're so helpful," House bit in a whisper that was meant for only Foreman's ears.
"Is she coming back?" Chase inquired.
House inhaled, weighing his options. He had no idea how long Chase would remain in this form. Nothing on the MRI gave them any clue about the status of his condition. "No," he answered honestly. If he had given Chase any hope that his mother was going to show up looking for him, it would have been all the more cruel if this regression lasted and she never came.
Foreman looked positively aghast at the response. He should not have let House answer.
Chase sucked in his breath and bit his lip as the response settled upon him. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes and his shoulders jerked as he tried to get his breath. A low cry came from his throat and his breath became labored as he started to cry with full force.
Foreman could not bear to watch the youngster crying all alone, so he reached out to him. "It's going to be okay," he soothed.
Chase threw his thin arms around the man's waist holding on tightly.
Foreman patted the top of his head, letting his hand rest on the blond locks. "We're going to take care of you," he promised.
"I-- I-- tried to be-- good," Chase choked out.
"You are good," Foreman said, patting his heaving shoulders. "You're smart and polite and your mom couldn't have asked for anyone better."
"Why doesn't-- she-- love me?" he asked.
"She's a stupid bitch," House answered before Foreman had a chance to respond.
Chase's eyes widened as if he were surprised to hear House say a bad word. He sniffed and then wailed, "I want my Mummy!" He grabbed Foreman even more tightly.
"Brilliant," Foreman spat, glaring at House as he tried to soothe Chase again. He wondered why Chase wanted his Mum if she really was the one who hurt him.
House shrugged. "He sure does cry a lot."
It was at that moment that Cameron decided to make her grand entrance into the MRI room. "What's going on?" she asked, rushing to Chase. "What's wrong?"
"I want my Mummy," Chase cried, turning his attention to Cameron. Foreman let him go, so he grabbed onto her instead. "I want my Mummy to come back, but he said she's not coming back. I promise I'll be good. Please make her come back!"
"Why did you tell him that?" Cameron snapped at Foreman.
"I didn't!" Foreman corrected her. "Mr. Sensitivity there did."
Cameron turned on House, "How could you?"
"It's the truth," House told her. "Look, kid, snap out of it. She's not coming back. You're stuck with us for now and if you don't shut up, we're not going to put up with you either."
Both Cameron and Foreman's jaws fell open. Sure, House could be cruel, especially when his leg was hurting more than normal, but this was something neither would have ever expected.
Chase buried his face against Cameron's stomach, gripping the material of her shirt in his fists. She rubbed his back as he continued to cry, albeit quietly. "He doesn't know what he's talking about," Cameron told him. "It's okay to be scared and we're going to take care of you."
"Jerk," Foreman scowled. "He was already upset by the MRI," he explained to Cameron. "The noise was too much for him and it made him feel sick, so he asked for his mother." He turned to House, frowning and accentuated every word, "A four year old made a reasonable request for his mother. Only now he knows his mother isn't going to come back."
House sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, realizing he had gone too far.
Chase refused to look at him, still snuggling against Cameron for comfort.
House reached out and shook his shoulder, "Chase, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
Chase flinched at the touch.
"Look at me," House told him authoritatively.
Chase warily peaked at him with one eye, keeping the side of his head firmly planted against Cameron.
"I didn't mean it," he repeated. "Okay?"
Chase only looked at him with his eyes shining.
"Okay?"
Chase swallowed and nodded, then buried his face in Cameron's shirt again.
"Good going, House," Cameron huffed. "Come on, Chase." She picked him up, balancing his weight on one hip. He hung onto her, both arms reaching up and his hands clasp behind her neck.
"Where do you think you're going?" House asked, following them.
Cameron spun around, "Home."
"You can't take him home with you!" House told her.
"Why the hell not?"
"We need to keep him here for observation."
"I'm not letting you treat him like a guinea pig."
"He needs to be observed. He couldn't even stand when he first woke up. For all we know, this could have damaged his heart or lungs. And I don't think it's appropriate for him to go home with you anyway given your relationship."
"What does our relationship have to do with anything?" Cameron snapped.
"It's… weird for you to take him home."
"He's four. I hope you're not implying--" she stopped, disgusted. "Because if you are, I'm going to kick your sorry crippled ass right here and now."
"Language!" Foreman reminded them, piping up from where he was still standing by the MRI. From Chase's expression every time someone uttered a curse word, he was getting the impression that profanity was frowned upon in the Chase household.
"Stop being self-righteous. You'd feel really guilty if you took him home, tucked him in, and he went into cardiac arrest wouldn't you?"
Cameron had to admit House was right. The potential physical damage this could have done was limitless and not necessarily going to show up immediately. "Fine, we'll keep him here for a while for observation."
"I thought you'd see it my way."
"But then what do we do?" Cameron asked, playing out different scenarios in her mind. What would happen when they decided Chase could go home? He could not very well survive on his own. They either had to find a way to change him back or one of them was going to have to take responsibility for a orphaned child.
"I have no idea," House answered. "No idea at all."
AN: Now, y'all didn't think House was going to immediately be good at dealing with a four year old, did you? ;-) Thanks for the feedback! It's been really encouraging and inspiring!
