Disclaimer: I do not own House or Once Upon A Time. Depends, though-can you get arrested for copywrighting in the Fairy Tale World? (Just kidding).
A/N: Hello, all! I'm glad to see so many people favoriting, alerting, and reviewing for my story! (-; It's good to know you guys are enjoying it.
But it is far from over...
Enjoy!
Chapter Ten
Chase was nearly done with the tox screen when Emma found him. In his fingers, he was twirling an uncapped blue pen, waiting for the results. He never looked up as she entered the room and she never expected him to.
"The tox screen almost finished?" Emma chose to linger a few feet away from him, the implied distance making her feel even more awkward and unsettled.
The pen stopped twirling and clattered on the table as though it had burned Chase's skin.
"Mmhm," Chase gave a low noise, nothing more.
Awkward silence.
Emma sighed, frowning at the person she used to know so well. Or at least, whom she thought she knew.
"Chase, you could at least look at me," she blurted out, the anger a rising tide within her. His sandy blonde hair fell across his eyes, hiding them behind a curtain.
"Or you'll arrest me, Sheriff?" Chase held up his hands in mock surrender and finally lifted his eyes to hers. "It's not exactly easy...seeing you again after so long."
His soft accent wrapped around her like a blanket and for a brief instant she clung to it. But no; those memories belonged to a painful chapter in her life, one of many it seemed.
"You think I enjoy this? It's hurting me, too," she admitted, her voice shaking. "You hurt me." Emma did not mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it did.
Her arms folded across her chest as though she were protecting herself from the delicate situation. Her walls were crumbling, the memories too powerful to be stopped now. A river of them poured through her, each one stabbing at her heart. It was the reason for her walls in the first place-it hurt too much to live without them.
Chase's expression grew dark. The results printed out with a shrill pattern of beeps, but neither one made a move to collect them.
"What happened between us...was not that bad," Chase chose his words carefully, mentally stepping around the bombs that could explode in their faces in any given moment. "Cameron...you make it sound so much worse."
Emma's arms dropped to her side in disbelief. It was not only that he was rationalizing that travesty, but also because he'd said her name. In that one utterance, there was a breaking dam of pain, anguish, and longing.
"Not that bad? You murdered a patient!" Emma could not her voice rising in multiple octaves. Chase buried his head in his hand in frustration. Ka-boom, he thought, realizing that by trying so hard to avoid the traps, he'd stepped directly into the gunfire.
"Cameron, our patient was a tyrant! He would have caused the ruin of hundreds of lives if we had not done something!" Chase willed her to understand, but Emma scoffed at his words.
"We? There's no 'we'. It doesn't matter what the patient is like. It doesn't give us the right to purposely end their lives. It doesn't give us the right to play God," she told him, her words stringing together through clenched teeth. "Otherwise, you're just stooping to Debala's level. It's our-your-job to save these people and do what's best for them. Or have you forgotten?"
Chase was stunned by Emma's unexpected lecture. A few guttural noises slipped from his mouth, but no coherent words.
Turning, Chase occupied himself with retrieving the results of the tox screen. As his eyes scanned over it, the worry lines on his face deepened.
"Well, looks like you were right. Tox screen's negative." Chase thrust the papers into her hand and stormed out of the room, this time leaving Emma the broken, speechless one.
...
"I send you to find anything that could remotely explain her sickness and you come back with absolutely nothing," House fired at Taub and Thirteen. "What part of remotely did you not get?"
Taub and Thirteen swiveled repeatedly in their chairs, staring down at Mary Margaret's file. It didn't help that the tox screen was negative, leaving them without a single answer.
"Actually, we did consider that something in the cookie dough was causing her allergice reaction," Taub pointed out. "Except...we also just did a history on the patient and she says she isn't allergic to anything in the cookie dough."
House glowered at him.
"So, basically nothing," he repeated, clearly annoyed. "And where the hell is Chase?" His seat was noticeably vacant with Emma standing by the doorway, results of the tox screen still clutched in her hand.
"He left after the results came in. I haven't seen him since," Emma said bitterly.
"He is so fired," House muttered, turning back to face the growing list of symptoms again. His fingers tapped repetitiously against his cane. "Cameron, do you have a better explanation for us? Besides 'not an allergy'?"
Emma glared sharply at him, pushing her body away from the frame of the door.
"The red skin and welts could be the result of contact dermatitis or even ringworm. It wouldn't explain the other symptoms-"
"Which makes the argument pointless," House interjected, his back to her.
"But maybe if we attempt to rule it out-" Emma insisted, a theory forming in her mind. House gave her an impatient sigh.
"Why? So that you can tell me it's 'not ringworm'?" Thirteen leaned forward in her seat, mind spinning with new realization.
"Maybe Cameron's onto something. Maybe there are two different problems at work here," she suggested, puzzling over the symptoms on the white board. House responded with a low groan and threw his hands up in the air in frustration.
"Fine. Just to prove to you ducklings that you're wrong. Start her on antihistamines and ketoconazole. And when our patient doesn't respond to either one of them, you can come back here so I can say 'I told you so.'"
House dismissed them to consider the symptoms for the hundredth time, always searching for an answer that was not there.
...
The diner was nearly empty, the business beginning to run slowly now that the day was waning into the late afternoon.
Chase sat alone at the bar, an alcoholic drink in his hands. It was his first drink and he thirsted for it after dealing with Cameron.
She had brutally exposed his wounds. She had slashed his heart to pieces. Still, the truth had been dragged into the light, whether he liked it or not.
It's my fault, he realized, gazing absently at the wall. It's my fault she's gone. And she's not coming back.
A flash of red intercepted his vision and Chase was temporarily removed from his well of sorrow. That waitress...Ruby.
The girl was resting her elbows on the counter, a curious expression on her face. Her crimson lips were pulled into a smile, her red-streaked hair lightly grazing his hand and tickling his skin.
"Are you okay? You seem depressed or something," she asked him, rich eyes locked on his. Chase took another swallow of his drink, emptying the glass.
"I've had worse days," Chase answered, setting the glass on the bar with a shrill clink! Ruby automatically picked it up, her long red nails curling around the edges of the glass.
"Another?" Chase nodded and Ruby hurried off to fetch it.
The musical clanging of the bell erupted through the silence of the diner-someone else was here. Part of Chase prayed it wasn't her-which it could be-and the other half of him secretly wanted it to be her-which he ultimately knew it wouldn't be.
At that same moment, Ruby returned with the drink. Her body stiffened as she met the eyes of the customer behind Chase. Whoever it was, Ruby clearly wasn't too fond of them.
"Madame Mayor," she addressed the customer flatly. Chase did not bother to face the mayor.
In his peripheral vision, there was a hint of gray and black. The mayor was positioning herself on the stool beside him.
"What's this? Drinking on the job?" The mayor's voice was snide and mocking. Chase figured it must have been her regular tone; the mayor seemed to use it often.
Chase was silent. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd leave him alone. Then again, she didn't strike him as the type to take a hint. A soft rustle of clothing and the mayor was shifting closer to him.
"Dr. Chase, you seem to be bothered by something. Anything I can help with?" The mayor certainly did not sound too sincere in her efforts. Chase noticed Ruby wiping down the end of the bar, sneaking glances at the two of them.
"Madame Mayor-" Chase started, but the mayor placed a firm hand on his arm. That hand felt unusually strong, as though capable of inflicting great damage. The fleeting thought was crazy-she was a woman, not a monster.
"Please. Call me Regina," she purred to him, her voice suddenly polite. Something about it rang false, but Chase was too lost in his troubles to discover what it was.
"Regina," he complied, tasting her name on his tongue. "No offense, but it's a personal matter. I don't really feel like sharing," he said, sipping his drink.
"The health and well-being of the citizens of Storybrooke are my main concern, Dr. Chase. Including the strangers that pass through." Regina's grip on his arm tightened slightly, as if she were possessive of him. As if she were making certain Chase was under her thumb, maintaining control over him.
"Yes, well...you have a funny way of showing it on Mary Margaret's behalf," Chase retorted, still refusing to glance her way.
Even without observing her expression, Chase sensed the tension coursing through her body now. Ruby stopped wiping to stare at the mayor with alarm.
Chase imagined it in his mind: Regina's lips would be transfixed in an angry pout, those dark eyes would be cold and piercing to a person's soul. Her hand slid back from his arm, out of view.
"I am not interested in Ms. Blanchard at the moment," Regina coolly stated. "Of course I care about her health. Why wouldn't I? I'm the mayor," Regina practically hissed at him.
It was not meant as a fact, but a reminder. A warning of the power she held in the palm of her hand. If Regina willed it, she could find a means of destroying him, so long as they remained in this whirlpool of a town she owned.
"Something tells me that you and I would not see eye to eye," Chase finally said, gazing at her. Regina was prim as ever in her gray business suit. Not a single stitch out of place.
"You never know until you try, Dr. Chase," Regina did not miss a beat in replying. That suggestive, curved smiled was pasted on her lips again, tension forgotten. Or was it simply a mask disguising Regina's true face?
Chase considered her offer, weighing the pros and cons. How much could he actually trust this mayor?
Those troubles were brewing deep inside him-he needed to talk to someone, other than House or his colleagues. Other than Cameron.
"Regina...have you ever killed anyone?" Chase avoided her eyes, afraid of the emptiness he might find there. Regina was quiet for a long moment.
"If I say yes, does that make me a bad person? Does that make me evil?" The alcoholic drink was starting to get to Chase. His world spun uneasily, the fringes of his vision blurred like frosted glass.
"Not necessarily. You're much too attractive to be that bad, anyhow," Chase complimented her. A second later his mind reeled-was he actually flirting with the mayor?
Regina's lips smirked pleasantly, her body leaning until it was only a few inches out of his reach. Chase discovered he was drawn to her, like a moth to a dangerous flame.
"Don't the two sometimes coincide?" Her voice was at the level of a whisper, skittering across his skin. With an abrupt snapping of her manicured fingers, Regina signaled Ruby. "Another drink for this exquisite doctor. Now," she snapped, sending Ruby hurrying off as fast as her barely clothed legs would allow.
"And you, Dr. Chase, can tell me all about those troubles of yours. Let's see what I can do for you."
...
Taub and Thirteen fixed Mary Margaret with her treatment silently, both doctors struggling to work out an answer to her sickness.
Mary Margaret was certainly getting worse, much faster than they had anticipated.
Skin pale as snow, eyes bloodshot and weary, and now a deep throaty cough had started up. Even so, her green eyes watched their movements with hope. Their Snow White was placing all her faith in them. I wonder where Prince Charming is, Taub thought as he checked over her vital signs.
"Alright. We're going to wait and see if the treatment helps you. Let's hope so," Taub explained to Mary Margaret.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice coming out raw and raspy. Thirteen was eyeing the colorful cards on the windowsill, handmade by the children in Mary Margaret's class.
"Your students really seem to love you," Thirteen said, motioning with her head to the countless cards begging her to get well. Mary Margaret smiled warmly at the memory of those children.
"Oh, they're all wonderful kids. Teaching has been my specialty for as long as I can remember," she said, playing with the golden ring on her finger. Thirteen noticed it and smiled thinly as she perched herself on the edge of the hospital bed.
"Were you married?" Mary Margaret stopped playing with the ring and seemed confused by the question. "You're wearing an engagement ring," Thirteen clarified. Mary Margaret admired it and shook her head solemnly.
"No, I've never been married. I've had this ring..." Her words trailed off, a light blush touching her face. Thirteen once again noted that Mary Margaret could be the equivalent of Snow White-the kid was getting into her head.
"Let me guess: as long as you can remember?" Taub finished Mary Margaret's broken sentence and she nodded. The machine's dull beeping filled the silence.
"You've never had any kids of your own?" Thirteen wondered, brow furrowing as she studied their ill patient. "It's just...you're so good with them."
"No kids, except for the ones I teach. I've always wanted a daughter, though," Mary Margaret mused. "It's silly, really. If I had one, I think I would've named her Emma." Taub and Thirteen exchanged odd glances.
"Is that so? What a coincidence Emma is your roommate," Taub said, the gears working in his head. Something was off with this picture; he just couldn't put his finger on what it was.
"I've never noticed before, but you have the same eyes as Emma," Thirteen mentioned, leaning forward to examine them closely. Both of their eyes were the shade of earthly emerald, like newly grown grass in the spring after a morning dew.
"It's strange, isn't it? It'd be even stranger if we were somehow related." Mary Margaret gave a musical laugh that quickly dipped into a monstrous coughing fit. Her fragile frame shook violently with the effort.
All of a sudden, Mary Margaret's head shot up, her green eyes wide and fearful. Gasping sounds escaped her mouth as she tried to breathe. The machine went haywire, Mary Margaret's vital signs rapidly depleting.
In an instant, Taub and Thirteen had jumped up and were lowering the hospital bed until Mary Margaret was blankly staring at the ceiling. Her throat had grown tight and her eyelids were fluttering closed...
"What's going on? What's happened?" Emma appeared in the doorway, Taub and Thirteen blocking her view of the declining Mary Margaret. Taub spun and eyed her gravely.
"Mary Margaret's going into respiratory arrest."
...
By the way, I kind of used the first chapter (the scene in the bar with Cam/House) as inspiration for the scene between Regina/Chase in the diner.
Hope everyone enjoyed reading!
What did you guys think of the episode last night? Another two week wait for the next one, though...and it looks like it's goodbye Kathryn (finally)!
Poor Mary Margaret, though, being shunned by everyone. /=
For the record, I wrote up a one-shot for that scene (where MM is walking down the street being shunned) and now it is a story. Feel free to check it out-it's called The Right Choice.
Until next time, readers!