I suddenly realised that I was naming this story after the CSI one I wrote...and I just caught it too. So if anyone was confused by the naming of Ch 4 (I'm not entirely sure I changed it or not) I'm not mixing up stories,I swear.
Anywhoo, I got some tests to study for and the Kiwanis Festival is practically at my heels now so I'm not sure how quick I can get the next one out.Hopefully soon.
felixgirl:lol, I'm writing as fast as I can. And yes, they are very lonely, so here is a super long chapter (for me to write anyways) for now.
DestroyerOdyssey: Aw, thankyou and I'mtyping as fast as my brain and fingers can allow me.
Review plz and enjoy.
Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Five Logic
Chase padded down the hallway, his strides ate up the ground, although he seemed to be relaxed and calm. He had learned how to appear laid back even though somebody might be dying that very second. It was so he wouldn't alert and frighten the scared families even more then they needed to be. Chase learned long ago, if families thought their husband, child, cousin, or whatever was dying; they would more likely pester you with questions and get in your way then letting you do your job, which was saving the lives of their beloved ones. He took a sharp turn to the left and popped his head into the room, ready to dash in if he was needed. Instead he found one of his co-workers, tapping a vile of blood, he came in slowly. The patient who was a young girl in her teens was drawing with a black felt tipped marker, she seemed safe enough.
Chase turned to his dark-haired co-worker. Her name was Dr Elena Joaquin, she was tall and willowy with a touch of hispanic blood, she had at least a quarter of an inch on him, her face was more handsome then pretty, her hair was twisted in a severe knot at the nape of her neck. She was a fellow intensivist too and had twenty years on him, what amazed Chase the most about her was not her wit, her habits, or even her adeptness at the job. But that she had time for a family, she had two teenaged sons and a ten year old daughter, whom Chase had all met. Her husband was a great cook and they loved each other to no end, Chase had found out one evening when spending time at their house. It wasn't intentional or anything, but Elena in contrast to her husband was a horrible cook and Chase had managed to save their turkey dinner. In return he had been part of a family for a few hours, it was a wondrous feeling, something he had been missing his whole life.
"Problem?" he asked Elena.
She looked up, "Not really, just need you for a consult. Come." she motioned for him to follow her.
As they headed down to the labs, Elena filled him in, "Her name is Faith Hartwood."
"Sounds like something out of the old fairytale book." Chase commented absently.
"Yeah, anyways she's fourteen. Hasn't started her menstrual cycle yet and she had elevated levels of estrogen in her system. Very high levels, nearing the dangerous point."
"Trying to get bigger breasts?" Chase asked.
"Possibly." Elena shrugged, "She's not saying anything to me or her parents. I don't think her parents even know she's ingesting estrogen."
"Well, with these kinds of things. Who would want to talk about it?"
"You're right. Anyways her parents, who seems way too over protective of her, brought her in because they claimed..." she checked the patient chart, "She has a big lump on her pelvic region. I checked her ovaries, biopsied them and I need a consult because I'm not sure what I'm seeing is what I'm seeing."
Chase raised an eyebrow, "Well that's a first." he said as he pushed the glass door to the lab open for Elena.
"Come." she motioned for him to come closer and take a look down the microscope.
What he saw definitely amazed him, "But that's a-a-"
"Testes." Elena said, "Now I know I'm not going crazy. I'll get Wilson...no wait he's off today...I think..." she trailed off unsure.
"So does this mean...she's a hermaphrodite?" Chase asked.
"I guess it would. I'll call the oncology department and they can take it from here." Elena stretched and loosening her elegant knot. She shook the hair free and walked to the door, "Off shift. Wohoo!"
Chase smiled. There was something about Elena, maybe it was her stern but childish behaviour, or her ability to switch from doctor to caring friend in an instant, but it made him feel all glowy inside. She brought his lunch and dinner for him, knowing Chase would forget every other day or so. He bent back down in disbelief after she left, but sure enough it was a sample of a testis and a possible growth invading the original cell make up. Chase straightened and walked to the door and jumped back as Elena poked her head back in, "Oh and try talking to Faith about this estrogen problem."
"But..." Chase started to protest, but she was already gone.
Chase sighed and resigned himself for some seriously weird feminine issue talk. He slouched back up the many flights of stairs leading from the labs to Faith's room, he could've taken the elevator. But House was probably already heading home for the day and Chase didn't want to be stuck in an enclosed space with him however briefly. House had been unbearable lately, not just with the work load but with his prodding. If Chase had to describe House in a word or two, he'd say 'Puzzle-solver'. He supposed that's what House was trying to do, solve him or break him, then fire him. Unless a miracle happened Chase doubted he would be here at PPTH long.
He stopped in front of Faith's room and took a deep breath. He didn't know what to expect, maybe a lot of outraged shrieking and being called a pervert. Chase sure wasn't a woman, even though some people would consider him a pretty boy. He smiled ruefully at that, wait until the fans got a load of his ribcage. He hadn't been eating right for some months now and he guessed he had gotten to a point where his body was now feeding on whatever fatty tissue it could find. It wasn't as if he didn't eat, it's just that he never felt hungry anymore. If he did, his hunger would twist into something worse, say fear or guilt.
Then Chase's tired mind switched back to what he was thinking earlier. He wondered if he could make House believe something that wasn't the truth. That's what Chase was. False. A liar. A person with so many personas that he found himself more like a actor then anything else, an actor stuck in a stupid never ending movie. An imitator. Chase caught himself as he started rubbing his neck like Wilson does and with some difficulty placed his hands in his pockets. Chase wondered drearily if he could still manage to find his true image, his true self. Chase snorted and shook his head. Of course he could, whatever he became he'll still be able to find his center again. It wasn't that difficult, he'd never lose himself like his mother. But little did he know...
Realizing he was standing there staring at the room number like an idiot, Chase finally entered. The young girl looked up momentarily, then dismissed him entirely before returning to whatever she was drawing. Chase came in further into the room, "What are you drawing?"
Faith stiffened before deeming it was okay to talk to Chase, "Oh nothing special."
"Can I take a look?" Chase asked.
His mother had been a one-time artist. Some of her talent must have rubbed off on him, he didn't think his art work was particularly good, hell he didn't think anything he did was particularly good, but he had a good eye. Faith stared at him, trying to contemplate his moves, it wasn't everyday you met up with a doctor that cared about what you were doing outside of medical facts. Finally she did a nod/shrug combination, "Sure."
Chase slowly turned the sketchbook towards him, the comic or a collaboration of drawn pictures were half inked. The pencil lines wispy and light as they suggested the general shapes of the object. It depicted a young girl that looked remarkably like the one sitting in front of him. However she was dressed in a outfit that was sure to defy all laws of gravity. His eyes traveled through the page, "This is good." he remarked.
Faith immediately flipped it over, nearly giving Chase a paper cut on his nose, "It's nothing." she sniffed, "It's stupid." she corrected.
"What? No." Chase said and sat on the edge of her bed, "It's much better then what I could draw."
She gave a shaky laugh, "Right. Whatever. Just get whatever you were here for over and done with, I don't want all this chit-chat."
Chase looked down at her hands and noticed angry red lines crisscrossing almost brutally over her pale skin, "You cut yourself?"
Hiding her forearms under the thin hospital issued blanket, she gave him a glare. "What? It's not like you haven't seen scars before."
He averted his eyes, "No, I was just wondering why such a talented girl like you would cut yourself up like that."
A side-glance was thrown in his direction, "Everybody has a boyfriend but me. I'm a freak. Besides it doesn't hurt, in fact it's interesting." the last part she mumbled so softly that Chase didn't comprehend the full effect of the sentence.
Eyebrows furrowed instantly, "How are you a freak?"
"I'm flat as a board." she said.
"Everybody's pregnant at your school?" Chase asked, he was totally freaked out.
A giggle escaped from her lips, "No, silly. I don't have any boobs."
He mentally berated himself for being so stupid, but that was probably due to the lack of sleep he had been getting lately. "Is that why you're taking so much estrogen?"
The slight grin slid off her face, "Did you tell my parents?"
"No. I probably won't either, but I need to tell you. Taking that much estrogen is dangerous."
She scoffed, "Oh come on. My friend took some birth control pills and in no time she had stripper boobs and a handsome boyfriend."
An inelegant snort issued from Chase's nostrils, "If it makes you feel better, I didn't date until university."
She stared at him, "I don't believe you."
"Believe it or not, it's true. I didn't have time for all the fun things in high school and I barely did in university and afterwards." Chase said.
"But you're so..." she trailed off.
"So what?" Chase asked his interest getting the better of him.
"Pretty." she blushed a deep, crimson red.
He stood up, mouth gaping and he spluttered, "What?"
"I'm sorry." she said and buried her face in her hands.
Wilson walked through the halls of the crowded ICU wing, he hastily pulled on his lab coat. He felt cold, just cold. Wilson didn't know why, it wasn't the physical cold you felt when you got a sudden chill from a nearby open window, but a mental one. A sense of foreboding accompanied it, but he just shook it from his mind. It was nothing to worry about, he had felt the same way after he had found Julie rolling around naked in bed with another man. No doubt, she was cheating again. They were still going through the motions of a messy divorce and so far Julie had the jury swayed onto her side. A lonely housewife with a negligent husband who was never at home and was probably cheating on her also. All of these accusations had been untrue, well at least the cheating part. Wilson may have been a womanizer, but he didn't jump into bed with them ever chance he got.
"Wilson." An exaggerated stage whisper came from behind a large, fake tree standing in a corner.
He turned with a frown, House stepped out from behind the tree. "What are you doing?" Wilson asked.
"Hiding. What else." House motioned for them to continue on their way.
"Hiding." Wilson repeated, "From what or whom?"
"Cuddy." House said and peeked around the corner.
"Why?" Wilson asked, "You don't have clinic duty or anything."
"Well I'm suppose to be diagnosing this guy who's wife is a complete bimbo. Her name's Bambi. Who the hell in their right mind names their kid Bambi?" House asked, "I need your advice."
"You what?" Wilson asked completely dazed. House asking for advice was like a miracle.
"Advice." House muttered darkly, "Are your ears not working?"
"They're fine." he answered, "However I am completely and totally shocked that you would ask poor little clueless Jimmy for advice."
"No, actually Chase is the poor wittle wombat. You're just Womanizing Wilson."
At Wilson's mock glare, House's lips twitched. "Well are you going to help me or not?" House asked.
"Fine. I'll help, as long as it has nothing to do with making diabolical plans, stupid stunts, or some plan to steal Cuddy's underwear."
"I already know what her underwear looks like." House said, reaching into his pockets.
Wilson immediately snatched the orange bottle of white pills out of House's hands and pocketed them himself, "Hey." House whined, "What was that for?"
"You need to get off of those. They're ruining your liver." Wilson said.
"I know that, but it doesn't stop me from taking them." House said and produced yet another bottle from his seemingly bottomless pockets.
Wilson sighed and gave it up momentarily as a lost cause. House dry swallowed two of them before finding a bench and sitting awkwardly on it, Wilson followed suit. "I want to know how I can get Chase to talk to me."
"You already do." Wilson glanced at him.
"No I mean Talk, with a capital 'T'." House said.
"And you want to...why?" Wilson asked curiously.
House shrugged, "I just like puzzles. I think the little wombat's spidey senses are overworked, because every time I try to get him alone he gets paged away to the ICU, the ER, or the OR. It's a conspiracy I'm telling you. I think these all these intensivists know how to communicate mind to mind, so when one wombat is in trouble the other wombats pitch in and help."
"So you're naming all intensivits wombats now?" Wilson asked faintly amused.
"Just go with it for now. In my spare time I'll think up a better name for them. Chase is our only exotic wombat on this side of the ocean."
Wilson just cocked an eyebrow, "Well if you're that desperate to talk to Chase and ruin your ego by asking for advice. Then I might help you."
"Stop joshing and answer the question." House said, scowling.
"Well stalk him outside of work."
"Why, Jimmy. I didn't know you had these kinds of pastimes."
"I'm not the one that's probably gonna do it." Wilson rationalized.
"True." House mused, "Can't jump him in the hospital, jump him at his home."
"I'm totally surprised you didn't come up with it yourself." Wilson said loftily.
"Well here's the problem, Jimmy. He's in hibernation when he gets into his den or doing something that involves people having crazy delusions of me running after him on my bum leg."
"Oh." Wilson stayed quiet for a minute, "Well I have no idea then. If you'll leave I'll get back to my patients."
As Wilson got up, House followed him. "I'm sticking by you for the rest of the day. You sprout the weirdest things to get me off of your back, maybe this time they'll be helpful."
Wilson only sighed, there was no arguing with House. "Fine, but don't make stupid comments every five seconds."
"But, Jimmy, that's my job."
Shaking his head, Wilson shouldered the door out of the way to find two very red people. Chase who was standing on the other side of the room started and hurriedly tried to run out the door. However House's vice like grip caught him by the elbow, "Caught in the act with a minor?" he asked amused with just the right touch of disgust.
Chase automatically paled, he couldn't tell that House was joking. "I uh-uh n-no." he managed to stutter.
House's eyebrow twitched and he tightened his grip further, "We need to talk." and proceeded to drag the scared wombat out of the room.
Wilson turned to the blonde haired fourteen year old girl who had a look of horror and a fading blush on her face. "Don't tell me anything."
"Well that's a first." she said.
"For what?" Wilson asked and pushed the wheelchair over and motioned for her to sit on it.
"You're not in my face with about what happened minutes before you guys walked in." she said as Wilson wheeled her out.
"Trust me, it's better I don't know. That other guy would've got it out of me faster then you can melt butter. And the twisted up version of the story would be out all through the whole hospital within an hour."
"I like your logic, Dr Wilson." she said giving his name tag a quick glance.
"Why thank you, Faith, I like to think of myself as a very logical man."