A/N: This chapter takes place about a week after the previous one, and is the intro to one I've been wanting to write a long time... House's Parents. Muwahahah. Also, in this chapter House's mom asks Rose how long they've been together. I originally had her answering one year, and then realized that, canonically, from the time Rose "joined" in the first season until now, its been at least 3 years. So I've fixed that timeline. I'll be adding something regarding anniversaries- probably a conversation with Wilson, later. Anywho, read, review, enjoy!

-ASG

"Rose!" Chase calls, jogging to catch up with her quick gait, her heels clicking down the hallway. She glances over her shoulder as he catches up, closing the file she was reading. House still under Foreman's watch for hemorrhage, Rose was tasked with doing House's thinking and her own departmental work- a busy job for one.

"Damn you walk fast for being so short." The Australian huffs, matching her stride. "You got a minute?"

"Uhh not really." She answers, trading her armful of files and orders with the floor nurse for several more vitals checks and rounds reports.

Chase puts his hand on top of the stack she's about to grab, effectively halting her rampage of stress and paperwork. He waits to speak until she looks to him, a challenging glare on her face. "Its lunch time, this can wait half an hour. You need a break."

Reluctantly agreeing after another moment of silent challenge, Rose leaves the files for later and the pair head down to the cafeteria.

HWHWHWHWHWHWHWWH

"What did you want?" She questions, her mind clearly elsewhere as she stops picking at her food to look to Chase.

"I've been meaning to bring this up, but things were more important the past few days." He begins, a little tentatively.

Rose nods, prompting him forward.

"When you got to the hospital and House was in the ER bay, he was going on about the person dying and whatnot. Then he suggested the Sensory Deprivation, and went to stand up."

He glances upward, Rose nods again. "His leg buckled under him." She recalls blatantly, pushing this evasive conversation forward and not entirely sure of where this is supposed to be going.

"And you caught him, immediately."

"And?" She says, one eyebrow raised.

"How often does that happen?" He asks, acute concern pervading his words.

Rose shrugs, thinking to herself. "I dunno. If he's careful about it, probably weekly or so when the pain's worse. But it happens a lot when he gets up too fast without thinking, which is why I reacted so fast that time."

Chase is oddly silent, his brow becoming more and more furrowed until he abruptly drops his fork, shaking his head in disgust.

"He calculates every move he makes. Weighs the necessity against the pain level. And literally collapses when he makes the mistake of not planning the motion first." The words are mirthless, dripping with sickened shock.

Rose nods, affirming the words that were more statements than questions. "Why bring this up now?" She questions, honestly curious, "You worked for him for three years and you've just now figured how bad it is? Because you saw me stop him from falling? You've watched him detox, Chase."

"I know, I just…" He trails off, shaking the emotion from his voice, " What the hell kind of life is that, Rose? He doesn't deserve that."

Rose grimaces. "You say that as though I'm unaware, Robert."

"But…" He trails off, having no real comment further on the subject. "He's a decent guy. For fuck's sake he risked his life for Amber. Simply because Wilson asked it of him!" Chase exclaims, as though his abhorrence will alter the ways of the world.

Rose exhales harshly, the subject sore with her. "You're right, about all of it," she affirms, sweeping her hand the through the air as she rises to dump her tray and get back to work, Chase following suit, "I've gone over it a million times in three days and there's not another outcome that results in any fewer people dead or dying. But what's done is done. If I could change it, I would, trust me, I'd love to see-"

She cuts off as she bumps into an old woman, ripping her gaze around, about to begin a rant of admonition as the woman brightens upon meeting her gaze.

"Oh! You must be Rosemary!" She declares, suddenly elated.

Forgetting her frustration for a moment, she shakes the woman's hand- professionalism preceding pissiness "Doctor Rose St. John."

"My son said I'd find you here. Described you perfectly too. Short, pretty, dark hair, well dressed."

"And who is your son, ma'am?" Rose prompts, the sweetness in her voice waning as she notices the time passing and remembers the paperwork waiting for her.

"Oh don't ma'am me dear. Call me Blythe. Blythe House. Dr. Cuddy called two days ago and told us how bad of shape Gregory was in. We made the trip out as soon as we could. Gregory asked me to-"

"I'm sorry, we?" Rose asks, tilting her head at the woman.

"My husband John and I, dear, we drove out from Harrisburg early this morning. Johns upstairs with Gregory still- he asked that I come find you instead of having you paged." She answers, smiling broadly at the younger woman. "My you are pretty, Gregory must be so lucky-"

"Why don't we go upstairs then, Mrs. House." Rose suggests, her mind already racing.

The two women make their way upstairs, and Rose is secretly relieved to hear no disturbance on the floor as the elevator doors ding open. She'd prepared herself for the worst.

Walking into the room, House's eyes soften to her as he catches her gaze, pointedly pressing the PCA button as she watches, silently indicating his frustration.

"Dad." House says quietly, silencing the man's ridiculous chatter, "This is Rose."

She extends her hand, which he grasps, his index finger digging into her wrist and his grip unnecessarily strong. "John House." He grumbles, immediately sitting back down in the recliner closest to House's bed. Blythe circles the bed, sitting in the chair against the opposite wall, leaving Rose to stand at the foot of the bed, conveniently in perfect view of all the vital monitors.

As House's mother makes small talk with him, and his father grunts and mumbles along, Rose observes House's demeanor. His heartrate and blood pressure are slightly higher than normal, but not worrying yet.

"How long have you been together dear?" Blythe asks, looking to Rose as the conversation with her son dwindles beneath even small talk.

The question nearly takes her by surprise. House isn't one for anniversaries, and it takes her a moment to process the actual length of time. "A little over three years" She answers, surprising herself a bit too, but being amicable with the older woman.

"Oh my! Greg!" She says in surprise, tapping his arm a bit. "You didn't say you'd been with her for so long. If this were my day you'd be married already."

"Mom." He breathes, clearly exhausted.

"I'm sorry honey. You just never mentioned her when I've called. Granted you hardly answer my calls so it's not really any wonder why."

"Oh leave him alone Blythe. He's a busy man. Far too busy and mighty to take time out of his day for speaking to his mediocre parents." John growls, rising from his chair.

House glances to Rose and sighs. In response she exaggerates checking her watch and makes a small move of impatience herself. "Can I take you two out for dinner or something?" She asks, smiling warmly at Blythe.

"Oh dear that would be-"

"No need. We should find ourselves a hotel. Let's go," John commands, silencing his wife. "I'll get the car."

"John dear, I'm sure Rosemary would love to get out of this hospital for a while. God knows she spends all her time here. Why don't you allow her politeness." Blythe responds, glancing over for Rose's affirmation.

"I could surely direct you to a hotel as well, Mr. House. It's not any trouble…"

House groans quietly just as it dawns on Rose her mistake and she trails off just in time for the unwelcome response.

"That would be captain, to you," he leers, dismissing her to his son's great annoyance. "I'll get the car, Blythe. Be downstairs when I pull around," He orders gruffly, exiting the room in a huff.

Blythe grasps her son's hand once she can no longer hear the man's angry footsteps. "Don't mind your father; he means well." She pauses, grimacing in her own words. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gregory. Get some rest. Love you." She brushes her lips over his forehead, giving his hand a final squeeze before exiting, ushering Rose into the hall with her.

"Thank you for your dinner offer Rosemary. I appreciate it, even if my husband is being gruff." Rose nods understandingly in response, knowing her opinion would be neither helpful, nor welcomed.

"You'll take care of him?" The older woman requests, glancing into the hospital room.

"Of course, Mrs. House," she affirms, leaving out the part about how she always does, "He's probably being discharged in the morning anyway. Why don't I just call when we get home?"

"That sounds fine darling. I'll see you tomorrow then." She says, waving a little as she turns toward the elevators.

Rose watches the older woman go, sighing loudly once she's out of earshot, leaning against the wall and coursing her hands through her hair. She breathes deeply, glancing longingly down the hall toward Wilson's office and craving the haven it once was before straightening up slowly and making her way back to House's room.

"Your mom's sweet." Rose starts, avoiding the obvious.

"Yeah." House agrees halfheartedly. "You mentioned discharge tomorrow? Did Foreman say that?"

"He will when I express to him how it's either that or he's doing the weeks worth of paperwork I've ignored."

"Using negative bribery to get what you want. You're learning." He quips weekly, pressing the PCA a little too forcefully for her liking. She gives him an apologetic look and brushes her knuckles over his cheek.

She ups the PCA dosage, knowing his pain is caused by more than the damaged nerves. "I'm gonna go shower and see if Foreman is still here. Get some rest." Rose says, dimming the lights as she lingers in the doorway, watching him as he presses the button several more times, finally relaxing enough to close his eyes.