''There is blood streaming on your face.'' House stated, looking at Chase. ''Wouldn't want it to ruin it your precious hair.''
Chase grabbed the small plastic bag from his messenger bag, looking at the tiny nail while he dropped his bag on the floor.
''The kid is already on the right meds, had nothing to do with the nail.'' House mumbled, without looking up from the book he was reading.
''So I went into that house for nothing?'' Chase said, rolling his eyes.
''Technically, yes.'' Chase shook his head and bow forward to grab his bag from the floor, nearly falling over, only grabbing the table the last second. HIs head was pounding and he could feel his breakfast burning in his throat.
''Are you okay?'' House frowned, walking towards Chase and moving some of his hair aside, looking at the small cut between his hair on the middle of his head.
''It is nothing, just a migraine.'' Chase mumbled, slowly coming upright again.
''Did you hit your head?'' House frowned, looking at the effort Chase had to make not to fall over.
Chase slammed his hand away from his head; ''It is just a migraine.''
''Did you hit your head?''House repeated his question, looking Chase in the eyes.
''I am fine! Maybe I did but I just need some sleep!'' The last sentence came out signing House that he was blaming him for the few sleep he had after the days of long work.
''You don't seem fine.''
''The kid is okay, I am going home if you don't mind.''
''Chase, just let somebody check on you.''
''Whatever.'' Chase threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out. He knew that it as one of those situations in which a doctor was simply too stubborn to get somebody to check him, simply because he thought he was okay, but simply estimating how hard the beam had hit him and the pain his head, he thought it wasn't that bad and continued his way to the parking lot.
Besides, he promised Alison that he would be home today, together with her. Lately, they hadn't shared much time together and he just wanted to be home with her after all that happened with Dibala.
The headache was getting worse and worse and driving through the traffic drove him insane and he had never been so glad when his car pulled up the parking lot and he made his way to their apartment on one of the higher floors.
Opening the door Chase dropped his back in the corner, as he usually did and dropped his leather jacket on one of the dining chairs.
''Rob, you are home.'' She smiled and he walked to the couch, afraid he would throw up if he bow forward to kiss her. A little uneasy he leaned against the couch.
''Are you okay?'' Cameron said, worried.
''Yeah, I just have a headache.''
Cameron rubbed his hand. ''Do you need anything?''
''No, just a little sleep and I will be fine.'' He pulled his hand away and walked to the bedroom, changing his dusty clothes to a clean pajama shirt and boxers and he laid down in bed, closing his eyes.
Chase opened his eyes and slowly stood up out of bed, walking to the bathroom.
''Walk a little softer, Willie!'' House grumbled from the couch.
''Wrong, it i-is me.'' Chase whispered back.
''Kidding.'' House grumbled sarcastic and Chase could hear him turn around.
''If you are not comfortable on the c-couch, you can sleep in the bed, I w-will sleep here.'' Chase offered, whispering, making his way over the hallways softer now.
''You need your sleep.'' House whispered, looking up to him.
''You need it t-too, your leg is worse.''
''Let's not play the worse game.'' House whispered.
''J-just go to the bed, I can't s-sleep anyway.'' He was so confused by the dream he just had he was sure he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. House came up a little bit, flicked the switch of the lamp on the table next to the couch.
''Kid, you look like you have just seen a ghost. Bad dream?'' House said louder.
''Shhh!'' Chase hissed, shrugged then.
''Tell me, what did you dream about?''
''Nothing i-important, please just sleep in the b-bed.''
House seemed to doubt for a second, stood up than.
''If you really can't sleep on the couch, just kick me out of bed.'' House limped away to the bedroom and Chase walked to bathroom but going to the couch now instead of back to his backroom.
The vision of Alison in his dream made his stomach turn, even though he had been feeling a little better about it since his conversation with House this evening. Chase curled up on the couch, maybe he should stop House from selling his and Alison's apartment and move back in there, so the bedroom would be free again for House. Chase closed his eyes, expecting to fall asleep, actually he felt even more awake after he opened them again, while only fourteen minutes had passed on the clock. One of the doors in the hallway opened again. Listening to the sound of walking, he know it was Wilson tiptoeing to the kitchen, passing the couch and he heard the fridge and a glass.
''C-can you give me a glass too?'' Chase asked, hearing the gallon package of milk on the counter.
''I nearly dropped it on the ground.'' Wilson gasped. After a few seconds he handed Chase the glass, whom sat up on the couch.
''Did House demand you to sleep here?''
''N-no, I offered it.'' Chase shook his head.
''Something wrong?'' Chase shook his head again; ''I j-just wasn't tired enough to sleep and figured that H-house would probably like to sleep in a bed for o-once.''
''He snores so loud I am awake right now. You mumble in your sleep though. There is an air vent between the rooms.''
''I do?''
Wilson sat down on the couch next to him; 'yeah, you do. Not really words, but you make mumbling sounds.''
''Sorry.'' Chase mumbled, taking a sip of milk.
''No need to apologize, I just thought it was funny. I whisper in my sleep or in myself sometimes and House thought he heard voices again.'' Wilson admitted.
Chase tried not to laugh.
''Try to get some sleep , okay? Or do you want to lay in my bed?''
''I a-am okay here, goodnight.''
''Goodnight.'' Wilson whispered back and flicked the lamps out again. Chase curled up again, thinking about the dream he had had. What if it wasn't a dream, but what actually happened. Then House was feeling guilty over nothing, he was the one that refused help.
...
''Silly Wilson that he didn't want to stay for your pancakes.'' House shook his head while they drove to the hospital together. ''What is on the schedule for today?'' He asked turning to Chase.
''Speech and occupational t-therapy.'' Chase sighed. The prospect of the long, busy day already made him tired after the short night of sleep.
''Am I a m-murderer?'' He suddenly asked. House looked aside, parked the car on the parking lot.
''What?'' House said, frowning.
''Did I kill somebody c-called Dibala?'' After the whole night of thinking, some of the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit together and so did the experiences in the coma.
''That is all behind us.''
''I n-need to know!'' Chase yelled, nearly desperate.
''Before freaking out - you did. But you did it to do something good.''
''How c-can killing someone be something good?''
''You saved people by killing him. More people than you can imagine.''
Instead, Chase just opened the door of the car; ''I am g-going to be late.''
''Rober-'' He slammed the door shut and walked to the hospital, the cold breeze in his face. He tried to keep the tears from streaming. Nothing could talk it right that he killed somebody, even if it was justified. The worst part was that he didn't even understand why he did and how. Had Alison known about his kill?''
He greeted random people in the hallways again while he hated them all, simply for making him more confused. Halfway he turned around.
''Robert Chase, right? I am a surgeon who used to work with you-''
''Leave me alone!'' mad he walked past the man, out of the hospital.
Going anywhere but home.
...
NOTE: Where will Chase go?
I hope you liked this chapter. They say that kids often go after their parents, but if House is kinda Chase dad, will Chase really go after House and lose his mind in all of the confussion?
Hope you are looking forward to the next chapter!
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!