Chapter 9 - Robert Chase
The three of them stood in Foreman's office that morning. Wilson, House, and himself.
After House hadn't remembered anything when they introduced him to his workspace, none of them had dared speak out, which was inevitable. Although in the past they would have liked to transfer the management of the diagnostics department to someone else and take some of his power away from House, now it kind of hurt that they had to rob him of his position. But as he was right now, he was of no use to the team, much more of an obstacle, because he could no longer take any responsibility for what they were doing. He couldn't even explain how to do a blood draw.
Chase sighed, as he had so often in the past few days. Foreman had cleared the whole situation up by now, and the newly appointed head of administration had been as shocked as the members of the team. Only his position required him to maintain his composure and to act confidently. So he decided that the management of the department should be transferred to someone else, at least for the time being.
That he had chosen Chase had come as little surprise to the blonde. They had known each other for years, had worked together under House, and were kind of friendly. They also both knew how qualified each other was. Foreman as head of administration, Chase as department head. The choice was probably not difficult.
Finally the door rattled behind them. All three doctors turned to Foreman, who rushed into his office.
"Sorry for the delay," he said formally and sat down in the executive chair at his desk. Chase watched House and Foreman look at each other like suspicious predators. Until now they had not met before, this was the first meeting these two former colleagues had with each other.
But soon they turned away from each other. Foreman looked down and went through some papers until he pulled one out and pushed a pen towards the three doctors.
"This is the contract that states that Chase will run the diagnostics department for the duration of your amnesia," he said clearly. House nodded tentatively. "You can still get in contact with patients, but you are prohibited from all treatment measures," he continued instructively.
Chase just rolled his eyes. Foreman always enjoyed his authority so horribly it almost hurt. House was hurt, but not stupid.
"I almost thought so," House shot back quickly, his blue eyes sharply focused on Foreman. Chase felt the corners of his mouth twitch, but suppressed the emerging, amused grin.
Foreman, however, simply ignored his comment and then gave Chase a challenging look.
"I'll need a signature from both of you then," he said, pointing with the tip of the ballpoint pen at two lines at the end of the sheet that marked the places for their signatures.
Chase nodded and was the first to take the pen and swing his name on one side of the paper. When he handed the pen to House, the latter accepted it, but with narrowed eyes scanned the contract that Foreman had drawn up. It was typical for him, to get into the picture again about all the conditions and details. Then he signed too.
Foreman nodded his thanks, withdrew the sheet of paper and pen, and put them in his drawer. With a benevolent nod, he indicated that he was releasing the three doctors from his office.
"I wish you a good recovery," he said afterwards as House straightened up and left the office leaning on his cane. Chase and Wilson followed.
So now they went to the floor of his department. Now he was apparently the boss of the team. Shy pride wanted to spread in him. It was an honor to be a successor to the infamous House, so to speak. Although his boss had given him a lot of problems and hopefully would make again at some point, that he was a gifted doctor and diagnostician, nobody dared to doubt that, not even Foreman, who probably liked him the least of all.
Halfway to House's office, Chase felt a hand on his shoulder holding him back as House limped on and crossed the glass door. Irritated, the blonde turned around and looked into Wilson's worried expression.
"Can we talk for a minute?" the oncologist asked softly, nodding his head towards the wooden door of his own office. Chase frowned in confusion, but nodded in agreement. Curiosity, but also discomfort, poured into him when he followed the older man and quietly closed the door behind him. "What's up?"
Wilson slumped into his chair behind his desk and looked thoughtfully at Chase for a few seconds without saying anything, just ran his hand a little nervously around his chin, as if he was no longer sure that he wanted to talk to Chase. The Australian sat frugally on one of the chairs that Wilson's patients normally occupied. He gave his counterpart time to find the right words. He knew the whole situation wasn't easy for House's best friend either. He felt sorry for Wilson.
"House has remembered two things so far," he began after a deep sigh. Chase inclined his head. Wasn't that a good thing?
"That's great," he replied cautiously, but Wilson's serious expression curbed his euphoria and literally slowed it down.
"It is. This shows us that we can work to bring back his memories. Apparently he's going through phases of his old life when he sees things connected with it." Wilson briefly told him about House's memory with the monster truck. Chase smiled in amusement. But the next moment Wilson hesitated again.
"I thought that in order to help him overcome amnesia, we could consciously confront him with his past."
Chase nodded again in understanding. That sounded like a solid plan, he thought.
"Would you like my help with this?" he replied gently. He was ready to stand by and support his colleague. After all, it was in everyone's best interests to get House back to normal quickly.
"I hope much more for your advice," Wilson said slowly and slowly he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not sure if it is wise to confront House with all the bad situations he's been through."
Although Chase understood his worries and concerns, he quickly had a very clear opinion, which he readily shared.
"He has a right to know everything about himself. And as I know him, he will want that too."
Wilson crept a barely recognizable smile on his face as he nodded.
"He wants that," he replied calmly. "And I agree with you, it is not our choice what he is allowed to remember. As bad as it may be for him."
Chase quickly realized how much it hurt House's best friend to say those words. Undoubtedly, he wanted to protect him from so many things that would break him again as they had once done. But Chase also admired his honesty, as well as his striving to be unconditionally honest with House. Although it would be easier for Wilson himself, if House wouldn't be able to remember everything.
"Do you already have a specific idea?", Chase asked curiously and sat a little more upright, straightening his shoulders. Wilson rocked his head thoughtfully without taking his eyes off the Australian.
"It would be a very drastic measure, but I'm afraid it would be appropriately effective," he mumbled hesitantly again. "The idea occurred to me to contact the people who have played a decisive role in House's life so far. "
Chase knew right away what Wilson was talking about. He swallowed. Finding this idea drastic was certainly not an exaggeration. But he was right when he said it would be very effective too.
"You're talking about Cuddy? Stacy Warner?" As Wilson nodded, the names of other people House had spent a lot of time with were piling up in Chase's mind. "Cameron?" Another nod. Chase didn't know what to think about it, so he fell silent. Wilson relieved him of the burden of clearing the room from the silence.
"I know it will probably be very painful. For House in particular," he said, his voice sounding almost pained. He was already suffering with his friend, although nothing had happened yet. But even Chase could only visualize what would happen if all these people from House's past suddenly came back into his life and woke his dormant memories.
Wilson leaned forward slowly and propped his forearms on the wooden desk.
"It won't be easy. But it is in his favor. He would want it that way."