When House was shot it had felt like Chase's entire world had ended, in that one second life without House had flashed before his eyes and it was complete hell, complete fucking loneliness; he knew he couldn't bare life without the man. He had rushed to the almost lifeless body when the first shot went off but he was quickly driven away from the 'body' when the criminal waved him back warningly. He needed House to be ok; he desperately needed him to be alive. It felt like eternity before the police got there and House was rushed onto a gurney, it didn't happen soon enough for Chase's liking. He followed the gurney the whole way to the ER, demanding that he be part of the team that worked on keeping the older man alive; he had to be there to make sure people worked their hardest to save him. Unfortunately they denied him the opportunity; saying they already had everyone they needed, they didn't, however, word their concerns about the Australian being too emotionally compromised, which was really their main reason. All Chase could do was watch helplessly, running his hand anxiously through his hair, as they wheeled House into the emergency room.

He occupied himself for at least the first half hour by pacing back and forth, his mind recalling the image of House lying on the floor, blood pooling around him. It looked horrific, he could only imagine how much pain he was in, it made him feel nauseous just thinking about it. The man who had done this was despicable, House was a difficult man but he didn't deserve to be shot. Chase was outraged and brimming with worry, he hadn't been this scared and concerned in years. After that first half hour he was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and he finally decided to sit and try to calm down, which was extremely difficult, he was more than too restless. Now it was time to beat himself up, he should have seen right away that the man was unstable, he should have acted quickly and stepped between them, he should have paged security right away. He stared at the clock as he tapped his foot, his elbows on his knees with his hands to his mouth, it was taking so long, and he knew it could take much longer, he didn't know what to do with himself.

A few minutes later a female doctor came through the double doors, looking around for Chase, guessing he'd still be there. The Intensivist glanced over to see her before standing and going hurriedly to her. He didn't get the chance to say anything before she spoke, "He's stable, but there's still quite a bit of surgery left to go."

He heaved a sigh of relief, thanking god he was stable, and nodded, "I'll be here." There was no way he wasn't staying; he'd stay all night if he had to. He doctor nodded in return and quickly went back through the doors. The Australian looked around, watching as people rushed about in the ER just down the hall, he was used to this, but when it came to House he felt sick. He sat back down, hanging his head in his hands, waiting, just waiting.

...

Almost an hour and a half later House was brought to a room, the surgery being a success, and Chase immediately went to meet him there even though the female doctor from before told him he'd be knocked out for at least another forty five minutes. He entered the room and was met with the dim lights and quiet beeping of the machines, and the almost carefree vision of House sleeping in the bed. He'd never seen the man looking so calm, it was a gorgeous sight; he wished he could keep his features that soft when he was awake, but he supposed this was good enough. The blond walked slowly around the bed so that he was on the opposite side of the door and standing right beside House, then, a bit hesitantly, he reached out to lightly take the older man's hand in his, running his thumb along the back, causing House to shift slightly. He had the sudden urge to lean down and kiss him, but he figured that if House knew he would feel violated. Whether that was true or not, though, he couldn't resist, so he bent over and gently pressed his lips to his, holding it for a second. Straightening up he ran a hand through his hair and sighed before sitting down in the nearby chair. He was intent on sitting there patiently, just watching the other man as he slept, but he had already been waiting for so long, and he'd become so tired, that he nodded off within minutes.

He awoke to rustling, almost like he could tell in the back of his head that House was waking up. Drearily he blinked his eyes open and let them focus on the man in the bed, finding that he was already staring back at him. He smiled lightly as he sat up straighter, rubbing at his face to wake himself up more.

"You didn't wait around this whole time, did you?"

Chase's gaze shot up to the older man, his brows slightly furrowed, "Of course, why wouldn't I have?"

House shrugged and blew out some air, shaking his head, before replying slightly sarcastically, "Oh, I don't know, probably because you have better things to do, like your job."

Chase scoffed before giving him a soft look, "I was so worried..."

It was actually touching that he was worried, that he cared that about him, but he wasn't usually someone who showed gratitude, or believed someone could actually care that much about him, so he responded dismissively, "I survived one near death experience, why wouldn't I survive this one?" Even though he said it in a passive manner it was clear in his eyes that he had been longing for this kind of connection.

Chase felt that now familiar urgency to speak his mind again, something only House could make him feel; only he could get him so worked up. He scooted to the edge of his seat, reaching out to take House's hand again, his features tight with seriousness, "In these past few hours I had to think about what my life would be like without you. I can tell you right now that it would be empty. It would be boring, bland, and awful. Call it silly, or stupid, or whatever you like, but I honestly don't think I could live without you..."

House couldn't believe that, he didn't believe that, not one bit, "You'd manage," he said quietly. He refused to believe he was that important to Chase; that Chase's life wouldn't go on without him there.

In one swift movement Chase stood and bent down to give him as much of a hug as he could, "I mean it, Greg, I need you."

And that was the first time the Australian had called him by his first name.