Chapter 23
Before you read my next chapter, I just want to thank those of you who have returned to my story after so long, I'm so sorry you were kept in suspense, I really hope it was worth the wait. I also want to thank those of you who are new to my story. I hope you enjoy it.
I really appreciated reading the reviews.
Happy reading.
N.B. Thank you to Nanuk for pointing out my inconsistencies in this chapter, I've made some changes and hopefully it reads better now.
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Chase hesitated outside the room. Inside all was dark, no lights brightening up the dim room, no TV providing a warm, comforting glow, no cheery sunshine showing the patient that there was life outside this hospital room. He frowned; it was unlike his boss not to ravenously feast on any distraction he could consume just to keep the wheels from spinning out of control. To stop his mind turning on itself. He peered into the darkened room, the bed was empty, the covers thrown back. The bathroom door was ajar, House's pathological need to keep himself private would have prevented him from using the facilities with the door open, so he wasn't in there. Eventually he spotted the shadowy silhouette of his superior in the high-backed chair near the darkened window.
Taking a steadying breath, he pushed open the door and walked in. The man in the chair shifted slightly but made no other sound. Chase cautiously edged into the room and hovered by the empty bed, loath to wake his boss if he was resting. House sat unmoving, soft breathing told the young doctor that the man in the bed was still asleep. Disappointed, he turned to leave when the man he had come to see began to shift restlessly, his brows were knitted together in a frown, both blood pressure and pulse jumped a few points. His slumber was less than peaceful.
Concerned, Chase moved to the end of the bed and retrieved the chart. A quick review told him that House had been agitated for much of the night. His blood pressure and BP were both raised but had been stable for the most part. He had complained of head pain during his checks and required extra analgesia, but that was consistent with having his skull crushed just over a week ago. Relieved that his boss' symptoms weren't immediately concerning, he made to replace the chart, but hesitated a moment.
Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he flipped further back through the charts filling in the blanks from the previous few days, where Wilson and Cuddy had closed ranks and removed Chase and Cameron as House's attending doctors. His memory was inconsistent, some personality changes, aversion to sensory stimuli. These symptoms were also to be expect, but they concerned Chase none the less. Foreman had recommended that the patient would benefit from leaving the bed, sitting up would increase blood flow to the brain, improving recovery. Both yesterday's transfer and todays were traumatic and House had required a top up of pain meds. Chase felt himself wince in sympathy.
He then flipped to Dr Santos' notes, the new meds seemed to be working; his violent episodes were limited to the one Chase had experienced and the one he had heard about. House had made a connection with Wilson but was distant with everyone else. Just like every other day, Chase thought to himself with a wry smile. House was making progress, it was slow, but it was certainly progress.
In the chair House shifted restlessly again, causing Chase to hastily replace the paperwork, feeling guilty. He turned to leave the room when House gasped and suddenly jolted into full consciousness, panting loudly, his eyes still squeezed shut. House had always suffered from vivid dreams, and now was no different. His right hand carefully moved up to rub the side of his head with his fingertips and eventually opened his eyes. Seeing that he wasn't alone, the man in the chair dropped his hand and tried to compose himself, making a show of straightening his gown, but he was clearly ruffled. "Bad dreams?" Chase ventured, hoping for a snarky quip in return. He almost felt disappointed when no answer was forthcoming. What he did find however was House scrutinising him, his piercing gaze dissecting Chase, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. He could deal with House making wild accusations or seeming to pluck thoughts from his very mind and exposing them all to the world. But this new silent House was something he didn't know how to deal with.
"It's good to see you." He called, letting his voice show his genuine pleasure at seeing the man awake and out of his bed, it had been too long since he had been mocked, and too much had happened. When no response was offered, he slowly approached the chair. He couldn't help but feel wary following his previous encounter with his boss. His chest still ached where the bed rail had struck him, and the site where the needle had punctured him was tender. Suppressing the sudden urge to cross his arms protectively over his torso, he forced himself to take the final steps and soon found himself standing over House, his boss, mentor and, he would never admit it to anyone, father figure. The man in front of him looked at him blankly, his body tense. "House, do you know who I am?" He asked tentatively.
House looked at his face again, taking in his features. Chase could see the cogs turning as House sifted through the jumble of memories, a range of emotions playing across his haggard face. Finally, he dropped his gaze to his lap, frowning. The younger man felt the disappointment surge through him, he felt sure House would remember him, after all, House had made such an impact on who he was as a man and a doctor. He turned, ready to leave, feeling a need to run away from this darkened room and the man who was now just a shadow of himself when he heard the gravelly voice sound for the first time in over a week, "Chase..?" He looked questioning at the man stood over him, his face a mask of uncertainty. The young man nodded vigorously, feeling a huge grin spread across his face. "Robert Chase." This time he sounded more certain.
Relief washed through the younger man, and an unexpected surge of emotion rose in him causing his throat to constrict, tears pricking his tired eyes. Clearing his throat and taking a steadying breath he decided to discuss the reason he had entered the room. "If you're up for it I need to talk to you." Again, there was a long pause, but Chase caught the brief nod from his boss.
"I know that Cuddy and Wilson told Cameron and I to stay away but we need your help. You always taught us to talk through a puzzle, to lay out all of the evidence and work through the puzzle until you find the right fit. But we've looked at the symptoms, we've done the tests, we've talked it through. We've tried every possible treatment and this one has us stumped. Our… your patient is dying." He looked hopefully his boss; but was rewarded with a blank look. House didn't know who he was talking about.
"The woman from your car accident." He supplied, hoping House would catch up, but again he was met with a blank look, House had no idea who he was talking about. "The car accident wasn't your fault, you were hit by a woman in an SUV, she had fallen asleep at the wheel. Both of your cars were on fire... That's where you got the burns." He said when House looked down at his left hand, fiddling with the dressing. "You pulled her out in time to save her from being burnt to death." The man in the chair obviously had no memory of any of this. "We placed her in an induced coma and treated the burns. She was improving, but now she's decompensating. We've run tests, it's not environmental, she has an infection but we don't know what's causing it. Her bloods are inconclusive. We think we've ruled out everything but environmental, but we control the environment. Everyone scrubs into and out of her room. Her beddings been checked, so have her dressings and the meds. We don't know why her wounds keep re-opening. Her husband is an ass and is putting pressure on us to cure her. But we can't figure it out… We need you."
House was quiet again, his left hand came up slowly and rubbed his forehead, he let his eyes drift closed. He didn't look relaxed, tension in his jaw and lines at his eyes and across his forehead showed the pain he was trying to conceal.
"You ok?" Chase was suddenly concerned. His question was again met with silence. The man in the chair slowly rocked forwards and cradled his head in his hands. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all. He quickly covered the ground between them and knelt down pulling out his pen light.
"Did you check the home yet?" Came a strained voice, interrupting him as he was about to check the pupillary response.
"She was brought in after a car accident. We figured all of her symptoms were related to that… but…maybe"
"Maybe shhhe din't fall ssleeep at the wheel." House finished the sentence for him, breathing heavily.
Relief coursed through Chase; House was in there somewhere after all. His thoughts tumbled over each other as he felt hopeful that House could practise medicine again, he could be his boss again. He could figure out what was wrong with his patient. His overlapping thoughts were interrupted by a retching sound. Brought back to the present, he grabbed House by the shoulders and heard him groan, a deep guttural sound full of pain. Suddenly he found himself staggering under an expected load as he felt House slump against him, a dead weight. "Need some help in here!" He shouted to the nurses outside, and gently lowered House to the floor.
Laying him on his back he saw crimson blood dripping from his boss's ear, gently falling onto the cold floor tiles. Grabbing for his pen light, which had skittered a little way across the floor, he checked the pupils just as two nurses rushed into the room. His left pupil constricted as it was assaulted by the bright light, he moved over to the right, at first, he thought he had missed the response, he tried again, nothing. "His right eye isn't reactive to light." He breathed as the nurses knelt beside the man on the floor. "Page Wilson and Cuddy, he's bleeding into his brain. He needs an OR stat!"