A House Fan-Fic
entercreativename
author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.
Chapter 7 - House Call
"There's another reason you and I are here, isn't there House?" Wilson asked his friend and colleague as they pulled up to an apartment building.
"Yeah, so that you can help me up those steps, or will that make Julie jealous?"
"Shut up."
The two men, long-time friends, had always had that kind of relationship between them. They were best friends, nothing more, but on several occasions, nurses and former lovers often accused them of being more than just friends. Fact was, best friends were all that they were. House had stood up in every one of Wilson's marriages, and was sure he would stand up in even more once Wilson had the courage to break it off with Julie.
They got out of the car. The steps up to the building really wouldn't be fun for him, and House knew that his friend knew that. Damned infarction. Damned doctors who knew NOTHING. Good thing he popped an extra Vicodin as they left PPTH in Wilson's car, even though the main reason he took it was to take the edge off of Wilson's driving.
"So House, do you have the key to his apartment?"
Dammit. Many things and people were going to be condemned by the end of the day. He knew he forgot something when they left, but he didn't know what. He always sent Chase and Foreman on these missions because they had a kit to break into apartments. But since Foreman would slip up in there and wouldn't know what to look for, and for Chase's privacy, he decided to go with Wilson. Besides, he was Chase's boss; he was privy to the information that the apartment contained, not his underlings.
"Easy there. I know what you're thinking after all. How about you stay here while I find the building super and see if he'll let us in."
How could House have been so forgetful? It was never like him to let a small detail such as a key slip his mind, and yet it did. It was obvious that this was affecting him, but he didn't know where to go to ease his mind. He popped another Vicodin, grinding it between his teeth this time to get the hit from it that he needed to get through the next hour or so.
Wilson returned. "I couldn't find the super, but his neighbor has a spare key for most of the residents on this floor."
House looked at the mangy old woman wearing her slippers and housecoat, hair up in curlers. She smelled of cats. Lots of cats, and he could just picture her sitting on her couch watching daytime TV and feeding her cats. Probably had a name for each of them. He looked back at Wilson, "I'm telling Julie on you, you naughty man!" She looked at him, took the key off her key ring, and handed it to House, grunting something about Days of our Lives being on and she was missing Marlena's wedding.
Once they were in the apartment, House was struck by the odd feeling of confronting his past, yet he didn't know why. He looked around and felt as if he was back in Sydney at his residency. But then again, the essence of the son was much like the father. House often had the same feeling after parties at Rowan Chase's home when far too many people would drink far too much.
Wilson headed towards the kitchen, while House headed straight towards the bathroom. First place to check for medications, particularly one, but he wasn't entirely sure if it would be there.
House walked into the bathroom, noticing the cleanliness of it. It was as if Chase had barely used it. He knew that Chase hadn't hired a housekeeper; yet, he also knew that Chase wouldn't take the time from his social life to clean. Unless, his social life dictated that he did. He'd have to check the bedroom next.
House opened the medicine cabinet expecting to find something, but all he found were two toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a pack of condoms. He looked at the toothbrushes. One was blue, the other pink. Obviously he was involved with someone, but who could she be? The relationship was important enough that she spent time over here, yet, not important enough that she was at his bedside? It didn't make sense. He looked some more. No medications in the bathroom. His hamper was empty, and there were no used towels hanging on the bar. There were several clean towels in a basket near the shower, but the basket was full. A clean washcloth was on the edge of the tub. The soap and shampoo in the tub were new and untouched - the little soap fringes were still on it. He looked around the room - the only thing that was used was the box of Kleenexes and the wastepaper basket, which was filled half-way up with crumpled up tissues and a couple of used condoms. House looked closer and wondered, Condoms for a man who wanted to become a priest?
Years earlier in Australia, he had met the young Robert Chase. At that time, the boy was interested in medicine, and the power it had over people. However, he also viewed medicine as a toy of the Devil, luring good people away from God. The young Chase saw what medicine had done to his parents' marriage, and couldn't stand to see it happen to others. While the boy knew that medicine did help people, he believed that faith had more to do with it. Yet, people often lost their faith, and with the faith often went their ethics.
House, finished with the bathroom and went towards the bedroom. Clean. No clothes on the floor or anywhere else for that matter. Closet doors closed. Neutral art on neutral walls. Bedside table had a lamp, analog alarm clock, a couple of medical journals, and a bible. Why the bible for a man who lost his faith? The bedspread was a little rumpled from being sat on. House headed towards the bed. The linens were freshly cleaned, as he could smell the fabric softener on them. He opened the drawer to the bedside table. Cell phone charger, phone book, breath mints, and more condoms. He's getting more action than anyone else I know, including Julie. There had to be medication somewhere, even if it was a bottle of Tylenol. He checked the other bedside table. Empty, and the top of it only had a matching lamp.
Nothing, there was nothing. There had to be a clue somewhere in this apartment. Wilson came in at that point and asked House, "Does something seem a little odd about his place to you?"
House looked back at Wilson. "Yeah, it's as if he never spends any time here, except to have sex."
"Yes, unlike your apartment, it's actually clean."
House paused for a second. "Exactly, a clean apartment means that he doesn't spend his time here. He spends it somewhere else. There are two toothbrushes in the bathroom. You know that he doesn't use both of them." House sat down and popped another Vicodin. Damned weather, damned leg.
Wilson saw House's most recent action and with concern came and sat next to House on the bed. "You know, we don't have to be here. I'm sure we can find his GP's chart and find what you are looking for on it."
House rubbed at his aching thigh and closed his eyes. The pain was exponentially worsening daily.
"Greg, are you okay?"
Not the first name again. House kept his eyes closed and breathed slowly. He had to get his mind back on the case, push away the pain and the lack of sleep.
"Greg?"
House, with his eyes closed inhaled, "I'm fine. It's just the weather."
"We'll stop by CVS on the way back and get you some ibuprofen. That will at least help a bit." Wilson had known House long enough to know that there were times when he was forced by his leg to stop for a moment, even though he hated to do so.
House swallowed the pain down, "What did you find in the kitchen and living room?"
"Nothing. It's as if he doesn't spend any time here. Did you find a picture of the girlfriend at all?"
"No, nothing. What about his answering machine?"
"There was nothing. I haven't been in his office yet though. There could be clues in there."
The two men, on account of House's leg, slowly made their way to Chase's home office. In it was a couple of bookcases full of books and journals, a desk, computer, printer, and phone. House sat down in the chair near the closest bookcase, closed his eyes, and rubbed his leg again.
"What am I looking for in here House?" Wilson knew that his friend was done for the day and needed sleep desperately.
"Medication, particularly anything for blood pressure."
"Are you serious? I've never seen reactions like his to a blood pressure medication. I'll look though."
"Also, check his computer for e-mails to any women. If the medication isn't here, then it would be at her place."
Wilson went to the desk and began to rummage through the nearly empty drawers. "Nothing in the desk." He saw House circle his hand in a gesture to tell him to move on. Wilson then turned on the computer to be met by the Windows Welcome screen asking for a password. "House, we need a password."
House stopped rubbing his leg for a moment. He didn't have a clue as to what the password would be. He could attempt to hack into the computer, but he also knew that Chase would outsmart him on that one. "You can stop there. We're not going to find anything here."
The men left the apartment empty handed and with more questions than when they arrived. Who was this woman that Chase was seeing? Why didn't she come and visit him? So many questions presented in front of them, and the only one who had the answers lie in a coma.