A/N: yeah they're still not mine. Foretunately for them. To , whoever you happen to be. Thanks I always want anything constructive. Unless its about my spelling because seriously people I know. But yes Chase didn't start out very whiny. Sorry if I put anyone off. To my defense Shattered and All Torn Down were ment to be seperate. When they spawn Scar Tissue I looked back and reliesed they Chase didn't have a set so sorry. Trust me he won't end up all cry-y at the end. Oh and please I don't usually ask, but I'm very nerous about this chapter so if you have anything to say- please reveiw and be honest. Or else anything will change for the better when the next story has Stacey walking in. BigKiss.

Pain And Pills

Oh, god…It's House…

Chase steps inside the door and realises as it clicks shut behind him that he has no idea what he's doing here. He and House don't exactly have the best track record and pity would probably just grate on the other, especially from him. So what the hell is he doing?

He finds himself blaming Cameron again when really she doesn't have much to do with it. Because although she dragged both he and Foreman to House's stupid lecture, she can't make him care. Didn't hassle him to come here… He's currently in House's office because he's does care, for some skewed, indefinable reason.

"That was great doctor Chase; now try it the other way." House grumbles from his chair in the dark.

"Ya know, turn around and leave!" House sighs between his teeth and Chase flinches because it's an off beat tone he's never heard before.

"Not gonna happen." Chase says coolly, because if he's learnt anything its that giving House an inch has him taking ten miles. House rolls his eyes and Chase can see it vaguely as his eyes adjust to the low light. He's such an interplay of clashing sides. Such brittle softness and Chase is shocked that he didn't see it before. Is stunned that he never wondered about what type of woman it was that messed him up and how.

"Make it short Chase I'm busy." House breathes.

"OC about to start?" Chase digs, because beneath it all he's still pissed at the other.

"Stock-market reports could be on and I'd still prefer TV to you." It's tired and not particularly cutting. Chase is almost a little disappointed. Because really he thinks the reason he came may have been to fight with the other.

"To think I'd almost forgotten what a miserable bastard you are!" Chase bites, House does nothing, barely breathes and Chase's eyes catch on the flecks of white across his desk. Small little oval drops.

"Hey," House frowns covering his eyes as Chase flicks on the desk lamp, blinking himself.

Dozen's of Vicodin are scattered across the desktop.

"What are you doing?" Chase snips, a feeling, hot and sticky unwinding in his stomach.

"Business-as in none of your." House smirks and there's something so severely off. It's almost like tangible static. A nervous tingling in the air. Maybe it's just Chase.

House picks up one of the white capsules and flicks it up in the air, catches it in his mouth and Chase's frown deepens.

"You could OD on that many." Chase informs as though the other wouldn't know.

"Actually considering how many I've taken today I could OD on five, really." House says nonchalantly and Chase's stomach tightens because surely House is joking.

House tosses up another and misses it, the tiny spec hitting the carpet and bouncing a little. Chase wonders if it's on purpose. Hopes like hell that this is just some sick prank of House's.

"So what your planning on sitting in the dark and swallowing those until you pass out and die." Chase's voice is anger laced and House can hear it clearly. Though mostly the tones just wondering, disbelieving.

"Actually it usually doesn't get that far." House breathes quite calmly and Chase blinks in surprise when really he shouldn't because House flaunts everything and everyone knows it.

"I miss a lot…" House huffs as though its some great crime.

"House are you actually sitting here in the dark trying to kill yourself?" Chase frowns, because it's something that just doesn't fit inside his head.

"Give the man a gold star." House barbs and Chase scoffs.

"You are so full of it!" Chase accuses. House hitches a brow.

"You wouldn't kill yourself. You too much of a miserable bastard to do that kind of a favor for the rest of the world." Chase spits and the brow lifts higher.

"I do this quite often Chase." House informs.

"You make it sound like a game." Chase bites because this is the perversion that is just entirely House.

"Why not?" House lilts and tosses up another oval, misses again.

"It's my life, out of my hands." He says and Chase starts to get it. House would play this type of game. He's crazy enough, just to toss everything to the wind.

"I'm sorry about what Stacey did to you." Chase says earnestly and abstractly because he's not quite sure how to deal with it. Hopes that maybe if he ignores it, it'll just dissipate, like so much smoke and air and… nothing.

"What? Are you gonna hold me tight and pat my back and tell me everything's okay!" House bites.

"Tell me what would you have done… If you were in Stacey's shoes?" House breathes. Watches Chase bite his bottom lip.

"I don't know." Chase says honestly.

"Can't you make everything all better Bobby?" House tears and Chase's cheeks flare red with anger at House's shear nerve. He fumes as the other tosses up another pill and catches it. Swallows, tosses away his life like its nothing. Chase can't believe the hypocrisy that had him fooled for so long. Is so pissed at himself because he couldn't for the longest time see just how human the other was. Can't stamp down the fury that sparks and burns at how wrong and cracked and just plan human House really is. He's pissed at himself… and House too…

"Decision made!" Chase snaps as he knocks the table clear with one long sweep of his arm. Nose rumpled in distaste.

House stares at him passively, watches as Chase sighs disdainfully and pushes back out the door. Great there's another one walking about. House thinks ruefully. Then flips open his cell phone and flicks through the memory to a number that has been there for as long as he's had the piece of plastic.

"Stacey, 10 o'clock tomorrow tell your husband not to be late!" House says curtly and flicks the phone closed. Glancing down at all the scattered pills…