"Chase, what the hell?" Cameron rushed after the pale doctor through the doors of the men's lavatory, excusing herself to an old gentleman who happened to be on his way out. Clearly the scene that had just taken place in House's office had upset him for he quickly scurried to the closest urinal, trembling hands sliding against the porcelain for stability as he fell to his bottom and gagged tumultuously over the pine scented freshener that someone must've deposited there earlier that morning. Cameron rolled her eyes and with tightly pursed lips marched over towards her hunched co-worker. "Are you serious? You're a doctor you idiot. I've seen you eat half a pizza after poking around in some woman's brain for five hours. But watching House's hung-over expedition with his breakfast and the carpet is what really gets your stomach pumping?"

"You're mocking me," Chase mumbled in a defiantly bitter but low tone as he craned his neck an inch or two to look up at her. Cameron flashed a tiny smug grin as she folded her arms across her chest. It wasn't often she was the one on the giving end of the playful teasing and ridicules that trickled throughout the hospital daily. In fact she was almost always the one receiving it for being too nice, or perhaps caring just too darn much.

"You're damn right I am. Our patient's in his room right now most likely vomiting the Jell-o the nurses snuck in for him last night in hopes he would pose with them for a picture. If you walk in there and he's blowing purple gelatinous chunks everywhere, are you really going to be rushing out the minute you step in only to be found whimpering like a twelve year old girl over a urinal?"

"I wasn't whimpering," Chase snapped haughtily. Clearly, with his mind no longer focused on what had just taken place, he stood arrogantly; no longer queasy. A few inches taller than she, Chase stared down at Cameron with a slight burn beneath his retinas. He had never seen such a side of her, in fact he honestly had never thought that one could ever exist. She was basically all that was good with the world wrapped into a beautiful creature. "Or perhaps she's what I want to believe is good," he suddenly found himself thinking as he froze at the sight of still standing self-righteousness.

"Oh, really? Then what was going on?" Cameron's brow arched. The main door swung wide open, a man in his mid forties striding through with a jaunty left step as he whistled a soft tune. He had clearly seen her, though was obviously either too in necessity of the facilities to leave or just really did not care. "Because if I'm not mistaken, running out of the room like a little girl was exactly what you just did. It's not professional and it's not like you. If you go into Connyr's room and do the same damn thing he's going to have a nervous breakdown. He already clearly lacks what some people refer to as self esteem and I don't want you knocking down whatever left he's been trying to build up."

"What does me leaving the room have anything to do with self esteem?" Chase asked with exasperation. "That makes absolutely no sense. It's not like I'm going to run out and call him a fat cow like House. I mean you're the one that nearly made him shit a brick when you got him that large bed. He thought you wanted to tag him and put him in some twisted traveling carnival as the 'human-hippopotamus attraction' just ask him. He cried about it all night to the nurses."

"Maybe the term I was looking for was self conscious," Cameron began slowly as though it took all her strength to admit she might've been wrong. "He's self conscious."

"No shit," Chase snorted. There was a flush of water and the whistling man reappeared from behind the last stall's door, still hopping joyously in a playful skip towards the sink as if lost in some beautiful orchestral piece that only he could hear.

"Forget it. None of that matters," she interrupted hastily as the water from the sink splashed about noisily. "What's this really about?"

"You tell me!" Chase shouted slowly as if trying to get her to comprehend his utmost confusion for the whole situation that had sprung up around them. "All I know is that I happen to get the minutest of bellyaches while watching House spew across the floor and you go off on me like a tyrant. It was something fleeting and yet you've managed to drag it out for the past ten minutes."

"Well it – it just isn't like you," Cameron argued feebly as her smirk began to fall into a deflated pout, the corners of her smile sagging with defeat.

"Does it matter? I mean, I'm surprised you care the way you had your hands all over House in there. I swear you must get off on that," he muttered snidely.

"Excuse me?" Cameron's voice had fallen deathly low. It was a sign of danger for all; her eyes slitting with a disturbed look as she ran her tongue across the front of her teeth.

"You love it. You love when you're taking care of someone, it's like your very own personal blue pill. I honestly believe that had the rest of us not been in there and you had found House all by your little lonesome you would've removed your pants and promised him a real fun way to hop on the road to feeling better. You're like the feel-good amusement park ride and if you pity someone enough you'll let them on for a spin. You love it; I honestly think you fucking love it." Chase voice was straight and clean though his hands were shaking horrifically as he spouted the foul thoughts from his lips, unable to watch as saline started to dribble from her moistening eyes. "And House? Oh you see him as some kind of trophy. He's so stubborn and he's so damaged that if only you could help him and show him all along what a little love and care can do for his life, then you'll make this world a better place."

Cameron opened her mouth to intervene but Chase quickly cut her off, his voice at last beginning to crack. "Well let me tell you something. Maybe you should stop giving such a damn about someone who clearly doesn't know what giving a damn is. Do you really think he's had such a horrible life? No, he chooses to make his life horrible. But I suppose that's what really turns you to him, isn't it? You want to change his way of thinking; change him completely. I've spent years trying to distance myself and the way I am from a childhood that consisted of nothing but boozing, lies, and absolute terror from a mom that was so drunk she sometimes forgot I was her son. Just because I'm not the sour asshole that House is doesn't mean that I'm not just as 'damaged' as him. I just hate that to get you to like me, and I mean really like me – I have to hate everything I've finally learned to be okay with."

And leaving Cameron there, speechless, Chase walked out of the bathroom side by side with the stranger who was still whistling his melody happily for everyone to hear.