AN's note at the bottom cause it'svery very long.

Please review, I'll try get the another chapterwritten soon.

Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Fifteen Slow

Taking the near empty scenic routes home, Chase squinted his eyes and drove slowly. The trees, flowers, parked cars, and houses molded together into one giant blur of colour. Bright neon lights streaked across his eyesight. Chase was starting to regret his brief high he had allowed himself earlier. The road turned into a tar pit, sweat poured down Chase's back as he felt the car sinking. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." Chase continued his muttered litany and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily.

Lights sparked behind his lids creating swirls of beautiful blues that his mother used to like. Opening them once again, Chase was relieved that the road had turned back to normal. But a miniature monster had plunked itself down on the middle of it. Realizing what it was, Chase swerved and stepped on the break peddle hard. Parking his car with little incident, he stumbled out.

What he had first thought was a monster was in fact a grey black striped cat who was enjoying the heat that was being expelled from the heat absorbent tar into its fur. Catching himself on the car door, he stumbled over. The cat gazed up at him with lazy eyes, it narrowed them from the pleasurable heat on its belly. "You know you could get run over." Chase squatted and engaged the cat in a one sided conversation in the middle of the deserted road. "Then you'd make me feel guilty all over again." He reached between the cat's ears and scratched the silky fur, "Are you a stray?" Chase didn't feel a collar around the cat's neck, so he picked the cat up and placed him on the back seat of the car.

Parking in his designated spot, Chase gazed at the cat who stared back. He had reached the climax of his high and would stay pleasantly buzzed for the next few hours, although he was more sober then he had been before. It still didn't stop him from picking up the cat and saying, "They don't allow pets into the apartment." he watched as the tail twitched, "But I'll sneak you up if you want."

Without waiting for an answer he bundled the cat into his coat, the cat made a huge fuss. Holding the wriggling bundle to his chest, Chase headed up the stone steps and peeked in through the glass door. The security guard was no where to be seen, he slipped inside and headed towards the elevator. Chase saw the sign that said, 'OUT OF ORDER.' He quickly averted his path and headed upstairs.

With the familiar door finally at his back, Chase unfolded his jacket and watched the cat drop four legged on the ground. With a twitch of it's tail, it glared at him and stalked proudly to the window ledge where sunlight streamed inside. Chase shook out his jacket and dropped on the leather couch, "You know, I can't keep calling you Cat or It all day." he gazed at the cat before grabbing it and checking its genitalia. It hissed and spit at him, the claws coming out in self defense, Chase placed it back on the ledge. "A girl. How do you like..." he trailed off to rub the side of her head, "Aliya? It's the name of a cat I had once."

The cat didn't do anything but lean into the gentle rub that Chase gave her, "Your shortened name could be Ali."

The newly christened Aliya, turned and settled down for a nap in the afternoon sun. Chase headed unsteadily for the kitchen, the neon lights flashing every few seconds, he opened the fridge and dug out a jug of milk that hadn't yet expired and poured it into a shallow dish. He put it on the floor and stared, dazed, out of the window, snapping back to his senses he lowered the blinds. Tomorrow he would visit the pet store to buy some cat food and kitty litter, he had enough saved up to live scantily for the rest of his life, however if he didn't want stingy then he would have to find himself another job. It wouldn't be too hard, he'd jump the border to another state, country, or maybe back to Australia. Maybe he'd get himself into a year of rehab, kick the habit and get a fresh start. Nobody would question his disappearance by all pretenses all of his father's money and estates had been left to him and his formidable step mother when in truth it had been donated to this big fancy church, nobody bothered to correct the false belief of Rowan Chase's will.

Passing the couch, he reached over and scratched Ali between the ears, "Milk's in the kitchen." he whispered willing the cat to understand, "I'm going to take a shower and watch all the pretty colours swirl."

oOoOo

House made himself scarce for the remainder of the day. Cuddy holed herself up in her office pretending to do paperwork and for the first time in a long while, she didn't bother to go and find House then drag him into the clinic. Cameron, Foreman, and Wilson had all heard about the heated argument which ended in Chase quitting, but they couldn't get away from their patients to do anything about it. The nurses were busy mourning the loss of one of the finer doctors to the hospital. Some of them, particularly the female ones that worked shifts in ICU and the NICU, had even gone as far as to brag about how close they had come to hooking Chase.

At the end of the day House's mood was so sour that he could actually feel himself being dragged through the floorboards into the depths of hell. Mrs Reichs had called at least five times about the chemically induced coma and seemed oblivious that Chase had quite, for she asked constantly for the blonde doctor. Just thinking about it made House want to snap his cane in half with his bare hands, but right now it wasn't physically possible for him to do so, so he just contented himself by gripping the handle of his cane as hard as he could. The ache of his right hand thrummed in time with the fiery pain in his right leg. Cursing Wilson, who had raided his apartment and office of House's precious vicodin supply, he limped towards the elevator. Digging in his leather jacket pocket, House came up with one measly half emptied orange container. Balancing it one hand, he hit the down button on the elevator with the tip of his cane. A second later the bottle was slipped back into his pocket, better save it while it lasted.

Just as the elevator doors closed, Wilson slipped in. House sighed and turned back to looking at the glowing red numbers that indicated which floor they were on. Wilson wound a black scarf around his neck, "Are you going?"

"Where to? Hell? Yeah I am." House answered with a tight voice.

"To apologize to Chase?" Wilson tried again.

"I don't get it." House's expressive eyebrows furrowed, "I've called him pathetic many times before, I don't get why he's taking all this so personally."

"Remember that last time? He went to Vogler."

"He was trying to save his job. This time he up and quit." House muttered, "I don't get it. If he likes this place so much, why'd he quit? He could've I don't know, transferred."

"You wouldn't allow that either." Wilson reminded him, "Remember...oh what's his name...Dr Peters. That fellow before Chase, he quit and went up to psychology. You went there everyday and confessed your sins for wanting to sleep with him."

House smirked at the memory of Dr Peters horrified looks, finally Dr Peters transferred to some obscure hospital in Seattle. "Hey, it's not my fault he's homophobic."

Wilson scoffed, "But you weren't remember? You made it a big deal that you were sleeping this one girl you picked up at this bar."

"Ah, Mandy. She was good in bed, but then she had to go back West." House sighed.

"I thought you called her your...how did you put it, 'Wittle Mandy Poo.'" Wilson chuckled as the elevator doors opened to admit a couple of nurses.

House gave him the death glare, they didn't talk for the rest of the elevator ride down. As the elevator spewed out people on the ground floor, House limped out the door taking his sweet time. Finally he turned to Wilson, "If I'm to apologize to him and beg Chase on knees to come back, I'm dragging you along for the ride."

Wilson shrugged and held his arms away from his body, "I'm free now. Want to surprise a wombat?"

"I thought you had an engagement tonight." House muttered at his bad luck.

"Yeah, with Julie's lawyer. I swear she's trying to suck me dry." Wilson wiggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, bad mental images." House groaned.

Wilson laughed as he did before he was shackled to the walls of marriage. Wincing House moved towards his bike, Wilson stopped him, "I am not going in that."

"What? Why?" House asked, "It's exhilarating."

"For you maybe." Wilson raised an eyebrow, "But not me. I'm always afraid I'll be flung off. I'll follow in my car and don't exceed the speed limit House. The police will catch you one day and if we're lucky they'll squish you with their black and white cars."

"You're so mean, Jimmy."

"That's what friends are for, tease you into a good mood so we don't have to fear your wraith." Wilson smiled gently, "Let's go before you lose your nerve."

"I don't ever lose my nerve." House said pointedly.

"I seem to remember you bailing when Mrs Reichs approached you this evening. I believe there still is a spot left in the Special Olympics for you to qualify in the 100 meter dash."

"Why God do you hate me so much?" House stared at the gathering darkness above his head, "Is it because I challenged you? Or is it because I grew up to be a mean bastard?"

Wilson patted his back sympathetically, "God spins a web and so do you. It's just your web is a bit more poisonous."

"I think I'll go and have a chat with Lucifer, I doubt he would be happy that you left him out." House walked over to his bike and yelled as he started the engine, "Eat my dust."

"I very well will." Wilson said cynically.

oOoOo

As Wilson drove up and parked along the side of the street, he could see House sitting on the top step that led into the apartment. Wilson slowly got out, pulling the jacket tighter around his immediately chilled body. House tapped his cane impatiently, "I'd would've thought you had turned into a snail."

"My car can't weave around people in the nightly traffic jams and I actually obey the rules, I don't gun it every time I see a damn yellow light."

"You'll learn how to drive someday, Jimmy." House grabbed Wilson's offered hand and pulled himself up, "If there are any more damn steps, I'm gonna kill myself."

The glass door happened to be locked shut unless you had a key or was buzzed through by the tenant you were going up to see, House grumbled and searched his pockets. His hand surfaced with a small silver key which he inserted, giving a nod to the night guard who was staring at him suspiciously, he limped to the elevator. Seeing the sign posted on it, House's shoulders slumped, "You have got to be kidding me."

"Out of order." Wilson smirked from behind him, "I guess you have to take yourself up on that offer you made yourself."

House stared up the sweeping staircase, "Do you have some vicodin handy?"

Wilson dug in his pockets, "Yeah."

"Good. Cause we're going to need a lot of it. Damn Chase, why does he have to live on the top floor?"

"I'm going to take that as a non-rhetorical question." Wilson said and started tramping up the stairs.

House sighed, tucking the cane under his arm, he grabbed the railing with both hands and started hopping on his left leg up the stairs in hopes of sparing his right leg some pain. But every time he landed, he could feel a quick jolt of pain. At the first landing, House sat down hard and swallowed two white pills. Wilson waited patiently for the drugs to kick in, "This is going to take forever." House moaned, "Another...what is it...ten...nine floors?"

"Nine." Wilson corrected, "Chase's apartment or loft as you might call it takes up the whole tenth floor."

"That's still ten."

"Well not really. You already made it to floor one didn't you?"

"You have a valid point."

I'm SO SORRY for not updating for the last couple of weeks, it's been totally hectic over here. First off, everybody seems to celebrate their birthdays in May including me and my sis and a couple dozen of my friends (I'm joking I don't have that many) so I here I am setting up surprise birthday parties all over the place when the weather decides to go wonky. Now it's like in the middle of July instead of the middle of May, I also got a nice tan going which I don't exactly want but meh. I can't think when it's hot, I get sleepy and cranky at the same time. Not exactly the best of combinations. To top it off I had a English PAT (Provincial Achievement Test) to write, which I'm sure I'm failed because I didn't read the instructions. (Face meets palm)

Rubix-Complex: I'm not sure if I'm ending the story before or after he comes back to work, but I do think he will. I'm adding chapters at the speed of a snail. (smiles)

evilchild666: Hate to disappoint but he's not on crack, he's on the other white powder. Well he's resigned for now and I'm glad you like it, the story would've eventually wound its way to this point either way, I just took the more dramatic and shorter way.

Padfoot n' Moony: Lol, he needs to be spanked.

blasphamy6669: Actually not coke but resigning, yes. And of course House finds him before it's too late, I'm the person who follows all the cliches.

Camlost: Lol, we can only hope. Welcome to the world of House fanfiction btw, it's a fine world.

sleepyheathen: Ahhhh. (runs around) Chase-angst to the rescue.

felixgirl: (pat pat)

madamwolf: My pleasure.

kpstar25: If I had, I would've felt sooooo guilty and came back with this massive last chapter thing just to finish it off. Talk bout OCD huh?

Dybdahl: Nothing good I can assure you.