Thanks again for the reviews, this story is slowly coming to a close and I hope that you've enjoyed reading it like I've enjoyed writing it. So here is Chapter 7 of Buried Secrets, I hope you like and please review. And just so you know, there isn't much to be said in this chapter and it is VERY short, but the next ones won't be.

Chapter 7:

"So how is he doing?"

Dr. Alison Cameron stood outside of a hospital room, staring in through the glass, chart in hand. Dr. Gregory House, Dr. Eric Foreman, Dr. Jimmy Wilson and Dr. Lisa Cuddy had all just arrived and stood with her now looking at their newest patient.

House grabbed the file and looked sadly at the name: Dr. Robert Rhys Ryan Chase. He looked up at his youngest duckling who was on a respirator lying in the hospital bed in the room before him.

Stephanie Dashund hadn't been joking when she had said that she would phone the police to check on him, and they had found him and called an ambulance only minutes after he had stopped breathing. Paramedics had been able to revive him with some difficulty and now he was being treated for anorexia and alcohol poisoning. He hadn't yet woken up though.

"Still not much better than last time you checked half an hour ago," Cameron whispered. "So much for 'he'll come to us when he's ready'." She said. She was extremely angry at House and Foreman for saying that Chase would be fine and that they shouldn't do anything until he was ready. If it had been up to her then they would have never left his house and he would not have been driven to drink an entire bottle of vodka.

"If that is your subtle way of saying 'this is all your fault' then I have to say: very well played," House said sarcastically. He was a little mad at himself for allowing this to happen and he was also mad at Chase for doing this to himself. But mostly he was angry at Amelie and Rowan Chase for doing this to their son. Chase didn't deserve what they had done to him, or the repercussions of it that would haunt him until he died, which, to everyone's dismay, looked like it may come sooner than later. "He will be alright." He said.

"Are you trying to convince us, or yourself?" Foreman asked, pushing past the other doctors and going into Chase's room. He looked at the littlest duckling on the bed. He looked so small, so young, so thin…he looked like he was dead. And he almost was, dead, but with proper hope maybe he would be alright after all.

"Hey, Eric,"

He turned around. All the other doctors had followed him in and they all took seats around Chase's bed.

"Do you think that we drove him to this with all of our meddling in his private life?" Foreman asked, "I mean, maybe if we hadn't…" He felt awful about what was happening to Chase. This man Foreman used to think had such an easy life actually had a hard, maybe even awful life. Foreman just wasn't sure if he could switch his opinion of Chase just like that, but knowing all of this about Chase made him feel terrible that he still mostly disliked the duckling.

"I don't think that we should think like that," Cuddy said, softly running a hand through Chase's blonde hair. "We should just concentrate on getting him better."

"Can you please not touch me?"

Everyone was startled by Chase's soft voice, his eyes slowly opened and for once his mask was down and they could see all the hurt, depression and grief in his eyes, in his soul, and it was heartbreaking.

"Of course," Cuddy whispered, pulling her hand away.

"What am I doing here?" Chase whispered, groggily.

"Don't you remember?" Cameron asked, worriedly, "You drank an entire bottle of vodka."

"No, I didn't," Chase replied, giving her a look like she was crazy, "I've never drunken any alcohol in my life."

Everyone's eyes widened in acknowledgement. That could definitely help explain why he got such bad alcohol poisoning. Now they had a different problem, though, he didn't seem to remember what had happened.

"Where's my dad?" Chase asked, "And my mum?"

The doctors all exchanged looks, and finally House spoke up, "They aren't here right now." He wanted to see where this was going.

"Are they still mad at me for slitting my wrist?" Chase asked, worriedly, "Dad said that he was going to put me on anti-depressants. I just want to go home and see Leandra."

The doctors all looked at each other, mouths agape. Chase thought that he was still thirteen years old and in the hospital for slitting his wrist. Suddenly nobody knew what to do.

HCHCHCHCHCHCCH

So like I said, it was very short, but that was all that needed to be said. In the next chapter (which will probably be the longest yet), they are trying to figure out how to help Chase get his memory back and fight everything else going on. Please review, thanks a lot.