OMFG the website is actually being nice to me. (Rest of the rant can be found below.)
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Shadowed Guilt: Chapter Seventeen Addiction
The paramedics burst into the spacious apartment. They were dressed in their standard issued white shirt, black pants uniform with thick blue gloves encasing each hand. The first was a burly man with tired eyes, he shouldered two medical kits that would hopefully prevent patients from dieing on their way to the hospital. The cocoa skinned stalwart woman had a foldable gurney tucked under one arm. This was their fifth run of the night, losing two patients had wrecked havoc upon their internal beliefs and nerves.
A furious snarl emitted from behind a closed door, a thin strip of light could be seen under it and violently moving shadows. A clatter of pots and swearing floated towards them, even though they were already aware of the many vicious oaths in the world, they were taken aback by the language in this one. Dropping the gurney the woman, Deena, cautiously opened the door. A shouted, "NO!" of pure desperation was seconds too late. Deena was bowled over by a being that seemed to defy gravity.
A scruffy man with three day old stubble and greying hair limped out; vicious scratches decorated his face, he seemed to be favouring his right leg and left wrist. He scowled at the stunned paramedics, "Well what the hell are you waiting for? Go after him before he freaking hurts himself."
Deena dashed out and shouted a curse as a glass cup shattered near her head, she tackled the writhing man. The burly man, Peter, gazed at the man undecided, "You're hurt."
"No." House said sarcastically, "That's why I'm bleeding all over the place. Don't worry about me, or him." House gestured behind him to an unconscious Wilson, "Just get that man. Oh before you go, knock him out the old fashioned way not sedatives." House glanced as a scream of rage echoed through the apartment, "He's hyped up on something."
Peter dashed over to help restrain Chase, but it was a losing battle. The paramedics were afraid to hurt him, but Chase had no qualms about kicking, scratching, and punching his way out of their embrace. House was torn, should he throw himself into the fray or help Wilson who was most certainly going to suffer from a concussion after Chase had managed to grab a frying pan and whack him upside the head with it as hard as he could. Deciding the concussion could wait, he limped across the room, hugging the walls and ducking painfully as more inanimate objects were thrown his way. Grabbing a hold of something with a handle he shouted for the two paramedics to get out of the way, they scurried out of the way as he brought the object down upon Chase's head, not enough to split his head open, but the whack had his dilated eyes rolling up into his head.
House sighed and helped Deena up to her feet, her uniform had been rendered into bloody rags and one bra strap was slipping off her shoulder, shrugging it back on she quickly headed for the foldable gurney. Peter, who's clothes were in the same condition as Deena's got up and went to check on Wilson who was moaning his way back into reality. House helped Deena boost Chase into the gurney and restrain him, Peter shouldered a disoriented Wilson on his back. House tucked his broken cane under his belt and picked up the medical kits then hustled the paramedics and patients into the elevator.
Inside the screaming ambulance, House helped Deena clean Chase's wounds and watched Wilson take his standard neuro test from Peter. Wilson kept on insisting he was fine, but he went pale as Peter touched the growing lump on the back of his head. House turned to his youngest fellow and combed his long fingers through the tangled blonde strands, he too felt a lump although it wasn't especially sizeable. Rolling up Chase's long sleeves, he found himself staring at the angry red needle marks decorating the skin inside the elbow. Chase's wrists and lower arms were slathered with cuts, some shallow and some deep but non fatal. "What am I going to do with you?" House muttered under his breath as the ambulance came to a screeching halt near the emergency bay of PPTH.
The on-call ER doctor scurried out in her yellow gown and faded blue scrubs. House vaguely recognized her from some fundraiser or another, but he was too busy helping the paramedics unload Chase and Wilson from the ambulance to strike up a good conversation with her. "Caucasian male, 27." House stated with clinical detail, "Suspected over intoxication of some sort of hallucinogen. Don't worry about Wilson over there just a minor concussion." House shouted at an intern who hurried up to Wilson.
He watched as the doctors wheeled Chase down the hall and into detox. House turned and nearly collapsed as the unnoticed pain from his right leg flared, grumbling he managed to make his way to Wilson. He was getting another neuro check from one of the attendings and he was getting quite irritable. Deciding his friend was in good hands, House phoned and woke up his neurologist.
An hour later, Foreman stumbled to the front doors of PPTH rubbing his tired and bloodshot eyes. House was waiting there looking impatient, Foreman squinted at the taller man, "Care to explain why you woke me up at two in the morning? And what happened to your face?" he asked taking in the clotting scars.
House thought it over, "I'm not going to tell you anything." he grabbed Foreman's dangling car keys, "Besides I like keeping people such as you in suspense. You'll find out sooner or later."
"Why do I get a feeling that I'm going to find out later the sooner?" Foreman asked as he yet again stumbled through the parking lot.
"Because your precognition sensibilities are probably kicking in." House said and got into the driver's seat of Foreman's quaint little blue sedan.
Foreman rolled his eyes, "If you're dragging me around this god forsaken city just for fun, I'm not going to hold back on strangling you to death."
House's demeanor sobered, "Trust me, this isn't what I would deem fun."
When they parked in front of the uptown apartment building that Chase lived in, House was kind of surprised that the police wasn't there sniffing around. No flashing blue, red, and yellow lights, no fluorescent crime scene tape. In fact the lack of police involvement disappointed House greatly. Foreman was gazing up at the brightly lit foyer, "Doesn't Chase live here?"
"Lived." House corrected, "I'm going to bust his ass when he gets out of rehab."
"What?" Foreman turned his head towards House, "What?"
"Are you trying to imitate a broken record?" House asked.
"Seriously. What did you just say? Chase needs rehab?" Foreman hurried after House as they climbed the stone steps.
"Yes." House said tightly, "The idiot's been on something for a while now. Stupid that he chooses tonight to get all hyped up. Okay maybe it's a plus on his side, but now I've lost my nerve to apologize. Idiot." House muttered under his breath as he marched to the elevator and ripped the 'OUT OF ORDER' sign off of the gilded doors.
Foreman let House rant knowing that he would get more information then interrupting the older doctor. The door to Chase's apartment was still slightly ajar, Foreman practically gasped at the broken glass, wood, china scattered around on the floor. House just frowned as he took all the damage in for the first time, "It's lucky he didn't have any knives handy. I swear that kid could play baseball and not break a sweat."
"So..." Foreman said lost for words, "Where should we start looking?"
House looked at him like he was insane, "Where else but the garbage?"
"Why the garbage?"Foreman asked moving towards the bathroom door.
"Needles. Biohazard bin. Trash." House enunciated slowly and headed towards the kitchen.
"Okay..." Foreman trailed off behind his back.
Foreman inspected the trash with some disgust, who knew what unpleasant things would be in that black plastic bag. He didn't care if anybody called him paranoid, but he was pulling on latex gloves just to be on the safe side. Foreman extricated one of those long thin cardboard boxes that toothpaste came in, he opened the flap and a capped needle tumbled out and onto the floor. Bending down he snatched it up and studied it. He could see no difference from the ones they used at the hospital. Putting it aside, he shifted things around in the trash. He came up with shredded paper, a washcloth stained with drops of blood, a torn rubber tourniquet, and two more needles. House limped in and took in the items Foreman had assembled on the counter, "First time's for fun. Second time's because you want that little jolt. Third time you got a problem."
"Well," Foreman said, "Chase has got more then a problem here. He's got an addiction."
Well I've been trying to update for days now, but just wouldn't upload my chapters. I got pretty pissed at it. Hopefully you'd all checked my profile (fat chance) but the chapter had been posted some days earlier on livejournal. Anywhoo, school has finally finished, I'm afraid of seeing my exam marks next year. Lol. Hopefully I'll be able to get tramped over by evil bunnies, however the bad thing is I'm going to be working a lot of the summer. I'm trying to save money for a trip to the other side of the world...yeah not gonna happen for a while. Anyways...done ranting for now.
Dying Angell: Lol, yes I am evil. Now that I think about it, I probably failed my English PAT.
blasphamy6669: Lol, thank you. Suspense keeps building.
evilchild666: Well crazy is my middle name. (wink)
felixgirl: More, more, more. Lol, here ya go.
Dattatreya: Thank you and here be the chapter.
BridgetLynn: Thankyou (blush) and don't worry I'll keep writing.
Green Penguin: We all want to cuddle Chase at some point in our lives (wink). I'm finally updating, YEAH!
SuperSquash: As I said, I'm very evil. Okay not as evil as my friend's cat, but nearly.
Death's Executioner: Aw thank you.