When things in the world finally seem to be going right, they turn horribly wrong and will affect House's team immensely. Sequel to New Tricks.

Disclaimer: I do not own House, MD. If I did, do you think that Tritter would be around, Cameron and Chase would have had that interesting moment, that Claire would be made up, or that I would be writing here? And I do not own any of the song titles used in this story as a title or chapter titles.

Well, here I am to finish off this story and begin another soon after. Over the summer, I worked out the plot for at least the next two stories and the ending for this one. I think this song's a little ironic for doctors, don't you? I hope that most of you have found the ficlet,Prologue, that pretty much introduces the idea of my little plot. Anyhow, all of you probably want the next chapter now, don't you?

One Sweet Day

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 7 – Chemicals React

Claire's room was silent, except for the sound of the monitor's incessant beeping. House watched through the window, popping a few pills; he didn't feel like going home tonight…or morning, for that matter, seeing as how it was 3 A.M. He rarely felt this tired, but was slowly drifting off as he watched the still room. With his usual gimp, he returned to his office for a nap in his chair. It remained quiet and motionless.

An hour and a half later, someone began to stir. Claire blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light of the world again, and then took a glance around the room. Derek's head lolled to one side as he slept; Dylan's head dropped back while he was sleeping soundly; and then, there was Chase, with his head leaning against his shoulder. His arm was stretched out, lightly holding Claire's in its grip. She tried to smile at his sleeping form; briefly, her attention turned to the tube that went down her throat, but it didn't matter all too much since it helped her breath. Things remained calm and quiet, while Claire drifted off to a light sleep.

۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰

"What do you mean it's not required in a job application?" House asked irritably.

Cuddy picked up a file and looked at him. "House, when someone's applying for a fellowship spot, you don't need to know their medical history unless it's diabetes or something that can cause them problems on the job; it's only required when you're in the military and in the hospital."

"You don't think that immunosuppresion is relevant when it comes to a medical position?"

"If she applied for the job and put herself at risk, then that was her choice, not yours." Cuddy began to walk to her office from the main nurses' station on the first floor.

A loud beeping rang through the air. House looked at his beeper and hobbled to the elevator.

"What?" he questioned, entering his office.

Cameron hung up the phone. "We can extubate now."

"You couldn't do that without telling me first?" House remarked, sitting down.

Cameron rolled her eyes while Foreman smirked a little.

"Remind me why I came back again?" Foreman retorted.

"Because you missed my cunning wit and charm."

"Or because they offered you a load of benefits and your own position and fellowship in the future," Cameron answered truthfully.

"Are you waiting for approval or something? Go on; get her unhooked from the machines."

Cameron and Foreman walked out as House popped another pair of pills.

۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰

"And now, you can talk again," Foreman remarked, taking the tube from Cameron.

Dylan handed Claire a glass of water; she sipped some quietly.

"You're ready to go home in a few hours," Cameron told her.

"Thank you," she said meekly.

"No problem," Cameron smiled.

Cameron and Foreman left the room. Dylan and Derek stood up.

"We'll run over to your apartment, get you some clothes," Derek hugged her.

"Thanks."

"See you soon," Dylan did the same.

Chase and Claire were left alone in the room, with him sitting in his usual chair. There was silence, until a feeble voice broke it.

"I'm so sorry."

Chase looked at her. "For what?"

"I should have told you…about the leukemia…" Claire sighed. "…it's just…for seven years…it ran my life…"

"Don't blame yourself…my dad had Stage IV Lung cancer…died from it."

"Oh…" Claire looked away. "…I should have said something…" she muttered the next part. "…I should have been more sensitive."

"Don't worry about it; you couldn't have known."

"Still…"

"It's all right Claire. Let it go." Chase smiled at her.

۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰

"Careful, careful," Dylan cautioned as he and Chase helped Claire up.

Claire laughed a little. "I'll be okay, Dylan."

Chase smiled. An older woman and man came in; the man had a fading dark brown color to his hair and was tall, while the woman had blonde and gray hair and was about average height. The woman rushed to Claire, gathering her in her arms while Dylan and Chase stood back.

"Oh, Claire, you're okay!" she exclaimed.

"Mom," Claire winced a little, "a little too tight."

"Sorry honey." The woman backed away.

Claire hugged the man.

"We're sorry we're late, sweetheart," he said.

"It's fine Dad."

"I told you we should have brought our cell phones, Daniel!" the woman cried as he let go of Claire. "Leave it to your father to convince me nothing horrible would happen when we left."

"Nothing usually does."

"Claire, I insist that you move back home from that apartment! I knew letting you get one was a mistake; this all could have been prevented…"

"Mom, really, it wouldn't have made a difference…" Claire interjected.

"Did you really think Claire staying home instead of in an apartment would have kept her safe?" Dylan concluded.

"Still, you should move home. It'll save you money and you'll be closer to your family!"

"Mom, I'll think about." Claire smiled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," the man turned to Chase.

"Dr. Robert Chase."

"I'm Daniel Austen, and this is my wife, Candice…and you've met Derek, Dylan, and Claire," he shook his hand.

"So you're the one who took Claire out?" Candice asked innocently.

"Mom…" Claire whispered.

"Yes, I am," Chase smiled at the reaction.

"Thank you so much. Claire hasn't gone out since her high school prom, and she went with her best friend who was a guy…"

"Mom, please…"

"Oh, Claire…I guess that parents are always embarrassing." Candice smiled, slightly resembling Claire's. "Well, honey, at least come home for the next week."

Claire sighed. "Okay, Mom, I'll come home at least for the week."

"Should we get you down to the car?" Daniel questioned.

"You guys go ahead; I'll be down in a while." Claire hugged her family as they left and went to the elevator; she looked at Chase.

"They're sweet."

"They're embarrassing…but aren't all families?" Chase smiled. "I think I'll stop by House's office before I leave." Claire turned and went to the doorway.

"Can I ask you one thing before you take off for the week?"

Claire turned around. "Sure; shoot."

"Did you really sneak out to a party when you were fifteen…and you got that scar on your wrist from jumping a fence?"

She laughed a little. "Derek and Dylan told you, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think they'll ever forget that."

"Come on; innocent Dr. Austen sneaking out to a party, hopping neighbors' fences, catching her wrist on a fence and getting a scar from it? How could anyone forget it?" Claire smiled and looked away. "Have a good week off. Hopefully House won't call you about a case." He kissed Claire lightly on the cheek.

"See you in a week." Claire leaned up a little, returning the favor, and left the ICU room.

۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰

House sat, bouncing his ball up and down out of boredom. He heard the door open and he looked up to see Claire standing by the doorway.

"Looks like someone's better," he remarked, bouncing the ball up and down.

"I wanted to say thank you," Claire leaned against the door.

"For what?"

"For taking the time to figure out what was wrong with me…" House gave her an odd look. "I looked at the file…but, for figuring out what was wrong with me and with him."

"The guy who tried to hit you?"

"He deserved the same type of treatment as anyone else."

"So? He tried to hit you. I'd say that doesn't mean anything."

"Still, you cured him."

"Shouldn't have."

"But you did."

"Is there a point to this banter? It's not very witty."

"Typical."

"What?"

"You, your sarcasm, and the little box you try to fit everything into."

"You lost me when you started talking."

"You live in your own world. You make a mold for each person you meet. From what Chase told me, your molds are that Cameron's always overly caring…kind…won't break the rules. You think that Foreman follows the rules, but breaks them when necessary, and will become the next you, minus the sarcasm and gimp. You think that Chase is a kiss up who'll do anything to save his own ass. I don't know if you even have a mold for me, but it'll be just like theirs. You're shocked when someone says or does anything that's against that stereotype…and that's your downfall."

"Still lost."

"It's your box; you try to stuff everything in there when it's crying to be let out. You only see what you can prove and know, like your molds for everyone. You see the guy who hit me, you think drunk idiot who went for a drive. You don't give them a personality, a spirit, anything what so ever. You need to start seeing with your heart, not just your eyes and mind."

"So you're accusing me of being blind when I can see perfectly well?"

"House! You don't see people as people! You see them as objects without a life. Everyone has a personality! No one fits one of your damn molds! You need to see that everyone is a human being, not some emotionless ass like you." Silence overtook the room. "I'll see you in a week." Claire left the room.

House tapped his cane on the floor a little, deep in thought.

۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰

"Claire, use the wheelchair," Derek told her.

"If you fall…" Dylan seconded.

"All right, all right! I'll use the wheelchair," Claire laughed a little and sat down slowly.

"Come on now, we've got to get you home," her mother said in the same happy, light tone as Claire. "We'll send your brothers and father to get some things."

Daniel took the handles of the wheelchair and began to push it slowly. Chase watched from up above as the family made their way to the doorway. Derek, Dylan, and Daniel were very much alike, as were Claire and Candice. Same smiles, laughter, personality; most of it seemed transferred over. A smile spread on Chase's face as he observed this.

You make me feel out of my element

Like I'm drifting out to the sea

Like the tides pulling me in closer

Making it harder to breathe

We cannot deny how we feel inside

We cannot deny

Were you right, was I wrong

Were you weak, was I strong

Yeah, both of us broken caught in the moment

We lived and we loved

And we hurt and we joked yeah

But the planets all aligned when you looked into my eyes

And just like that the chemicals react

۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰۰

Darling I never showed you

Assumed you'd always be there

I took your presence for granted

But I always cared

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

So has come the end of Number 2 in my little untitled series. House shall proceed to call flamers a series of names until they burst into tears. I shall work on getting the next story up soon. Until then.