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Disclaimer: I do not own House, M.D. I only own Chase's daughters, Stephanie Dashund, and Leandra.

Warning: Just so you know, I did use a few swear words in this chapter

Chapter Ten:

"House, I didn't tell you because there was no reason to. You aren't his physician anymore and I did tell Dr. Gardner, though she already knew. Had you still been treating him I would have said something." Wilson sat at his desk staring into the extremely pissed off face of Greg House.

"You didn't think it important for me to know that one of my ducklings has an ulcer?" House asked angrily.

Wilson stood up; upset by the way House was treating him. "In case you have forgotten, Chase quit, he is no longer one of your ducklings and he never wants to see you again."

House blinked, "You've been to visit him." He said in disbelief.

"Of course I've been to visit him; I'm not the one he hates."

"Oh, well la de freakin' da," House rolled his eyes, "You know, what if I were to tell him that you knew, too? I bet that than he wouldn't want to see you."

Wilson narrowed his eyes, "You aren't going to be able to tell him anyways. Besides, he'd understand doctor patient confidentiality."

"When it comes to his father, Chase doesn't give a rat's ass about doctor patient confidentiality. That was his dad, and he would see you as being just as much a bastard as me!" House was really angry now. He couldn't believe the way Wilson was acting, and he couldn't understand it, either. Why was his best friend acting like such a jerk?

"You know, House," Wilson sighed, "You might think that you are God here at this hospital, but you're not. You are more like Lucifer." House frowned. "You think that everyone should do exactly as you say how and when you say it, and to tell you the truth everyone is sick of it, including me. You drove Chase away, and he was the first doctor that ever made it past a month working with you and you know that the reason for that is because he is used to being treated like crap so he didn't see anything wrong or different about it. But now he is fighting back: he is sick and tired of always being treated as though he is the gum on the bottom of your and his father's shoes and that is why he is leaving. The fact that you tried again to intrude way too much into his personal life was a turning point that just made Chase say 'forget it'. It was you, it was nobody else, he deserves better than you and he deserves the chance to be happy for once in his life!"

House was shocked, "Wow, I've never heard you say that much shit in one paragraph in all the time I've known you." House said angrily. The two doctor's angry eyes met. "You just wait, Jimmy, that kid is unstable. If he dies, it's your guilt, not mine." With these words, House turned and stormed out of Wilson's office, slamming the door so hard behind him that Wilson's framed medical diploma crashed to the floor, shattering the glass into thousands of pieces.

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"How are you feeling?"

Chase opened his tired eyes slightly to see Wilson standing above his bed for a moment before he sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"Just dandy," Chase muttered, his accent more prominent then Wilson had ever heard it.

"I knew,"

Chase looked at Wilson strangely. Wilson had his head down and was looking at the floor, his hands cupped in his lap. "What do you mean? What did you know?"

"About your dad," Wilson whispered. "He came to me when he was here; he wanted my opinion on how much longer he had left. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but all the doctor patient confidentiality kind of kept me from it. I felt like such an ass when you found out about his death."

"Its fine," Chase whispered. Wilson looked up, now Chase was looking away, "I know that you knew."

Wilson was stunned, "How did you know?" he asked.

Chase looked at him, "After I found out that he would have known about it while he was here I checked to see if he was registered at the SLE conference and he hadn't been. I knew that he couldn't have come to see me, because he doesn't care enough for that, and I thought he probably came to see you to get your opinion on it. I checked his medical history and there it was."

"But," Wilson was taken aback and confused, "Why is House such a bastard for not telling you, but I'm not?"

"You said it yourself," Chase whispered, "Doctor patient confidentiality." He sighed, "And that wasn't the main reason I said that, either. It was a lot of things, I just couldn't put up with him anymore."

"I know how you feel," Wilson said. He breathed in a deep sigh. "He doesn't mean it, though. He really doesn't want you to leave, Chase."

"I don't care anymore," Chase said, "If I stay here my depression will just keep getting worse, not to mention my ulcer. I want to go home so that I can hopefully buy myself some more time to spend with my daughters before all of the stuff that I have wrong with me finally does me in."

"It will be awhile before that happens, Chase," Wilson smiled, "You know that if you stay I think that House will be so grateful that he may even stop being an asshole."

"You know I wish that it were that easy," Chase said, "I wish that anything was that easy."

Wilson narrowed his eyes, not really sure what Chase was getting at here.

"I've been fighting anorexia ever since I was first told when I was fifteen that I was supposed to be eating and my father had me treated for it. But food…just the thought of it makes me want to hurl and I hate it, I hate what she did to me." Wilson noticed as Chase tried to hide the grimace of pain on his face.

"You know, you're in pain, you have an ulcer, its okay for people to know that." Wilson told him.

Chase looked at him, sweat running down his forehead. "No, it's not." He took in a few shallow breaths trying to get through the pain. "I took three pills a day, Wilson, so that it would barely even hurt, it numbed the pain. Now I can only take one and the pain is killing me."

Wilson stared at him in disbelief. "You were taking three pills a day?"

Chase nodded, "I didn't want anyone to know. House, my daughters, Cameron and Foreman, even Steph, though she knew something was wrong."

"You aren't a machine, Chase, you can let people know that you are hurting, it won't make you seem weak. You have a lot of things wrong with you."

Chase looked up abruptly. "Yeah, and who's fault is that? Sure, my asthma and anemia are both genetic things I got from my mum, but anorexia cannot solely be blamed on her. I reverted back to being anorexic because I was a moron who stopped taking my anti-depressants, and I also can't completely blame my depression on my parents. As for the ulcer, that is a little bit of everything. Melissa's death, my mum's death, before she died, my dad before and after he died, House, this hospital, work, leaving Oz to come and live here…these are all things that came together and I couldn't deal with it."

"Maybe you should get some rest," Wilson said.

Chase was shocked. He had finally started to open up about stuff like they were always telling him to and now Wilson wanted him to stop? He sure hoped that Wilson knew that once he stopped talking that he wouldn't start again.

"Fine," Chase said and he pulled the blanket over his eyes. "You can go now."

Wilson was stunned. He hadn't expected Chase to rudely turn him away like that, but he got up anyways and made his way to the door.

"Everything will be alright, Chase." He said before he gently closed the door behind him.

"What were you talking about?"

Wilson jumped nearly a foot in the air. "Jesus Christ!"

House smirked, "No, Lucifer, remember?" He said sarcastically. "What were you talking about?"

"That is none of your business," Wilson moved to get past House, but House grabbed him and pushed him back against the wall.

"I am making it my business," House said angrily, "I don't know what is wrong with you and why you are suddenly acting like such a big prick, and frankly at the moment I don't even care, but I need to know what is going on with my littlest duckling. Please." House said the last word quietly, and for the first time since House had first confronted Chase in the chapel, Wilson could hear the worry and concern in his voice.

Wilson sighed, "I just-it feels as though you're hurting him. You keep deciding to do stuff concerning him and it is always wrong and makes stuff worse. I just don't want to see him get any more hurt."

"And you think that I do?" House asked, "Jimmy, you know that I…" he paused, as though the words were extremely difficult for him to say, "You know that I care for Chase and I don't want to see him hurt either, I want to help him but to help him I need your help. We have to do this together."

Wilson sighed, "Alright, so he is being fed through a tube and is taking both his ulcer medications and his anti-depressants. He hasn't had any further memory loss, but he seems to be having lots of nightmares concerning his childhood. He was just telling me about his mother and he is pretty much blaming himself for everything, from his ulcer, to his parent's and wife's death, his depression and even his anemia and asthma. He does admit that he is responsible for his current anorexia and admitted that he has always had trouble ever since his mother died and he was treated in the first place with not becoming anorexic again and said that the mere thought of food has always made him sick to his stomach. I am going to request that Dr. Gardner gets him to speak to the resident psychologist and maybe work out some of his issues, especially his issues with his parents and food."

House nodded, "His parents, I wish I could bring them back to life just so that I could beat the crap out of them for what they did to him." House murmured. "Thanks Jimmy."

Wilson sighed, "I'll try and see if I can get him to talk to you, too."

House nodded.

"So, are we good?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah," House replied, "We're good."

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Hey, thanks for reading and I hope that you liked it, I appreciate any comments on the story and the next chapter will be up soon. Thanks