Happy April Fool's Day! Prank anyone yet? Better hurry up.

felixgirl: I share your view, lol.

isheebishee: (Pat pat)

greendayfan1333: Continuing. And I share your views, my mind is totally random.

blasphamy6669: Updating soon!

Rubix-Complex: (Hands you a tissue) I have a thing for torturing the cute guys.

Please review and have fun reading.

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Seven Grief

Chase shivered from exhaustion as he gave the caffeine vending machine his dollar and waited for it to pour his cappuccino out. Taking the overly hot cup he blew gently on it as he waited for it to cool so he wouldn't burn his tongue. He turned and found himself face to face with the scowling face of Cuddy, "Dr Cuddy." Chase greeted and put out a hand out to catch himself from falling over and splitting his head open.

"Chase, how long have you been here?"

"Um...a year, seven months, and two weeks. Give or take a couple of days."

Cuddy gave him a glare, "You know that's not what I meant."

"Er..."

She held up the sign in sheet and waved it into his face, "You've been here for a day and a half nonstop."

Uh-oh here it comes, 'The tired doctors make mistakes and the hospital gets sued lecture.' Sure enough he wasn't disappointed, "Doctors aren't allowed to work this many hours. You know why? Because doctors get tired and tired doctors make mistakes. Then we get sued for malpractice and if we get sued we won't have money to fund this hospital. If we have no money to fund this hospital we have to close down. If we close down who will treat the patients? Some people can't afford private health care, they'll die of something that is curable because they didn't have enough money to see the doctor." Cuddy took a deep breath, "Go home."

"But I-"

"No buts. Go now. Shoo!" she pushed him in the direction of the locker rooms, "I don't want to see you within ten feet of this hospital until noon tomorrow."

"House will-"

"I don't care what House wants. He has to learn to grow up and not get everything he wants. Now go home." She gave him a firm push.

Chase reluctantly moved forward, he glanced back at Cuddy to make sure it wasn't a joke. She had her hands on her hips and was tapping her feet. He sped up and sipped his cappuccino, nearly spitting it back out as it burned his tongue. He reached his uniform grey locker beside other uniform grey lockers, he unlocked it and stood for a moment in front of it. All the lockers were equipped with mirrors. 'For vanity purposes.' Chase thought cynically. 'Wow. I look like crap.'

It wasn't far from the truth either. His hair hung in lank lumps, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, and he was pretty sure he had lost another pound or two. Chase now understood why Cuddy would've suddenly taken an interest in his wellbeing. She just didn't want him scaring off all the patients. He slipped out of his lab coat and studied it, it was stained with blood and god knows what else. He discarded it by dumping it into the biohazard bin, he calculated that lab coat number fifty-two was to be worn tomorrow. As he put on his black coat he suddenly noticed he had left his notebook in the diagnostic conference room, biting his lip he wondered if he should go up and get it. He weighed the options: he would get attacked emotionally by House again or House would find it and marvel at the pretty little pictures in the margins. Chase opted to go back for it, it was nearly eleven at night. House would be home by now, probably drinking a beer and Chase had nothing to worry about.

Chase felt like a coward as he slowly slunk his way up to the diagnostic conference room, he stopped at every corner and peeked around them making sure House wasn't waiting to jump him. As he finally reached his glass-doored destination, the breath he didn't know he was holding rushed out in a sigh. Gently pushing the door open he poked his head into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust he studied the dark room. The white board held a few more symptoms written in Cameron's girlish handwriting, the chairs were placed precisely underneath the glass table. As his eyes swept through the room, he frowned he was sure he had left the notebook near the little coffee stop corner. Hefting the door open more widely, he stepped in.

He noticed music playing softly from the adjourning office, the venetian blinds were closed so Chase couldn't be sure if House was in there or not. He hadn't noticed anything when he had passed moments before. Frowning, he inched forward staying as close to the glass walls as possible. Gently prying a gap in the blinds he peeked into the thin sliver that he allowed himself to view. Seeing nothing he widened the gap, House's desk sported a light blue glow. His brows furrowed as he moved closer, the music grew louder. As he rounded House's desk he saw the screen of the older doctor's Ipod left on. Chase gingerly picked it up, afraid he might break it, it looked so fragile. He turned it off. Strange that House would leave such a valuable asset at the hospital where anyone could steal it.

Biting his lip, Chase sat down in House's comfortable black chair and opened a drawer. Seeing a gameboy sitting amid the other items consisting of: broken yo-yos, bouncy balls, and slinkies, Chase nestled the Ipod between the gameboy and House's favourite yo-yo. Leaning back he studied the dark and gloomy sky outside, resigned he got up and went home. After all, he didn't need Cuddy coming after him with a broom or something.

In the early afternoon, Dr Eric Foreman had the most trying day of his career. He had been sent by House to get a patient's history, unfortunately for Foreman the patient couldn't talk without spitting out teeth and crying out in pain every time he opened his mouth. To his surprise, Foreman pitied the man. He had seen before images of this once handsome man, sleek chestnut hair with a smooth olive complexion, thoughtful dark eyes and relaxed brows, a young man around Foreman's age. But now, his face was invading by angry looking lesions, the man could hardly breath without moaning in pain in between. Foreman checked the man's chart, he was already receiving five milligrams of morphine. If he ordered more morphine to be pushed into the man's system then he may become addicted.

"Mr Reichs, how are you feeling?" Foreman asked pulling on surgical latex gloves.

"How do you think he feels?" a simpering voice came from the corner.

Foreman turned slowly, his teeth grinding, just what he needed an overly preppy relation of some kind getting in the way. It was as Foreman feared, sitting in the corner was a perfect barbie robot. Her blonde hair curled down her back and around her augmented breasts. The shapely legs were crossed causing her impossibly pink and short skirt to ride higher showing off the lattice tops of her thigh high hose. However, Foreman, felt no attraction. He wasn't gay or anything but he found impossibly thin women who went through plastic surgery every year or so a major turn off. Plus he had his own lovely Sharon to share his bed with him.

"Well I'd say it's pretty painful." he spoke cautiously.

"Then stop asking stupid questions and get on with it." she leaned back letting her light stylish autumn jacket slide slowly down one arm exposing her white shoulder.

"Um...who are you?"

"I'm Mrs Reichs." she said with a small laugh, "Who else could I be?"

"Mrs Reichs, I-"

"Oh call me Bambi." she interrupted.

"Bambi." Foreman stated more in disbelief then anything, "Well okay, Bambi, I need to ask some question about your husband and you. Some may be personal. If that is okay."

"Fire away." she said combing a perfectly manicured nails through her long mane of hair.

"Have you or your husband traveled anywhere lately?"

She wrinkled her nose, it made her look like a pig ready to sneeze. Foreman thought Chase could do a cuter expression then that. "Well we've been in England, Ireland, France, Italy, and Australia throughout the last six months."

Foreman noted it onto his chart and looked for Mr Reichs to confirm, he merely nodded slowly and painfully. "Have you been-"

"Before you ask, everywhere we've been have been perfectly sterile. We haven't been through the perfectly disgusting parts of town, that smell is absolutely horrid."

"What about sex?"

Mrs Reichs laughed, "Of course we've been having sex, you're a funny man Dr Foreman. We're married." she said as if she was stating a no-brainer for a small child.

"Sex with anyone else?" Foreman asked absent mindedly.

She was just a fireball of rage as she leapt up from her seat, "How dare you accuse us of cheating? We would never do such a thing, would we darling?"

Foreman noted the mascara running down her face, effectively ruining all make up she had carefully applied this morning. Before she could go into hysterical sobs, Foreman pressed for a button and called for a nurse to care for Mrs Reichs. As she was being led out, she stepped out of her impossibly high heels and threw them at Foreman. He deflected the oncoming missiles with ease, but he was sure they'd leave a bruise before the day was over and done with. He sighed and sat down beside Mr Reichs bedside, "I'm going to ask you 'yes' or 'no' questions. It'd be easier for us to diagnose you so answer them, alright?"

At the painful nod, Foreman ran through all the standard questions. Prying into the man's family history, the Mrs's family history. In the end Foreman felt satisfactory. As he was leaving he was drenched as the Mrs threw her flavoured water at him. Sighing he headed for the locker room, his favourite tie was ruined for the day. Placing his soaked clothes in a plastic bag so they wouldn't soak through to his other stuff in his locker he noted he didn't have a decent pair of pants he could wear. He resigned himself to wearing scrubs for the rest of the day. Foreman didn't much like wearing scrubs, it made his skin look darker then it should and they were so unfashionable.

Chase inserted the small golden key into the lock and opened the door, closing it softly behind him he leaned back and let his head thump on the wooden door. He took in the dim lighting of his spacious apartment and left it that way. The strong lighting would've just provoked the headache lurking in the back of his skull. Dropping his pack he stared up at the ceiling as he realized he had once again forgotten his notebook. Sighing he gave it up as a lost cause and hung his jacket on the coat hangar near the door. Treading over the plush white carpet, he entered the kitchen. It was about half the size of the living area but that still was pretty big. Leaning forward he took a peek in the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of milk and a salad from two nights ago.

Sitting down he pulled his laptop towards him, stuffing some lettuce in his mouth he checked his email. Most of them were from prestigious hospitals around the world who were trying to get him interested in their hospital. The great late Dr Rowan Chase's son working for them, that sure had a nice ring to it. Chase shook his head in disgust and deleted them all, a few were from past lovers spewing their crap about how sorry they were about his father. Chase deleted those too, next came advertisements from various pharmaceutical companies and one from a distant and rather crazy aunt. He smiled as he opened it, a leprechaun leaped across the screen showering gold and dancing like a mad man. Chase replied with a, 'I'm fine. How are you and your family doing.'

Getting up he stretched and felt his back crack satisfactory, he loosened his tie and went in search for the clothes he slept in. In the bathroom, he couldn't help but close the door. It was a habit he assumed, for what was the point of closing a door when there was no one else in the house? Quickly he stripped, shivering in the slight cold he stepped into the bathtub. He turned his face away as he was pelted by hot water. Standing with his back facing the shower head, he let himself be engulfed by the hot waterfall. Chase leaned back onto the wall and the grief and stress from the day punched him in the gut. Slowly Chase slid down the wall, letting his head drop back, he finally let the sadness that he had ruthlessly suppressed earlier to overwhelm him. He couldn't tell if the water that was running down his cheeks were from the shower or his own tears.