A/N: All the positive responses to this story have been the bright spot in an otherwise awful week, so thanks a lot! So here's the next part - again you are reminded that this story contains reference to violence, but this chapter has nothing explicit.

'Chase!' House shouted. Later, playing it back, he would hear the panic in his voice, although he wasn't certain what he feared. He pulled the chair aside and tugged at the handle, but the door didn't shift.

'Who puts a lock on their closet?' Wilson asked, looking around for a key.

'Here,' House said grimly, waving the key that had been abandoned on the bedside table. He forced the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened, finally.

It was a big closet. An inane thing to note, but so the brain works in these situations. A walk-in, with a mirror. Chase was sitting on the floor, propped up against the back-wall, eyes closed. There was a moment where he was just one more thing to note, and then the doctor impulse kicked in.

For the second time in a month Greg House found himself making a list of Chase's injuries. No worse than last time really. Except that Chase should be getting up right now and asking why his home was being invaded.

Leg protesting vociferously, House made it to Chase's side and lowered himself to the ground. 'Chase.'

It was a command, not a request, and Chase opened blue eyes to focus on his boss. 'House.' He didn't sound surprised, or scared – didn't sound anything.

'Good. Can you tell me your name?'

'Robert Chase.'

'And where are you?'

'New Jersey.'

'More specific,' House demanded, with hands gentle in Chase's hair to feel for more wounds.

'My apartment.'

'Want to tell me what the hell happened?'

'What…' a shuddering breath, '…what do you mean?'

House forced the question into softness, if for no other reason than if he didn't do this right Wilson was going to take over. 'You normally hang out in closets? What did Tom do?'

'Nothing,' he whispered back, breath coming in sharp gasps.

'Try that one again. Make me believe it this time.'

'I was late coming home.'

House could barely make out the words now. 'And it was on time too many?'

Chase nodded, still gasping.

'Breathe, Chase.'

But the young man was in full-blown panic.

'Chase!' House instructed. 'You need to take deep breaths.'

'Can't!' he shot back sharply.

House gave a flickering smile. 'Good boy. Yell at me, that'll calm you right down. Come on, think of something peaceful. Tell you what - you missed our morning chat, I'll fill you in. Twenty seven year old male. Fatigue and joint swelling.'

'Lupus.'

'No rash. No pleuritis or pericarditis. No fever.'

'Rheumatoid arthritis.'

'Wilson suggested it, but no nodules.'

'It can present without nodules.'

'True, but it doesn't often present without a high RF level.'

'You didn't tell me that,' Chase protested weakly. He paused. 'Strep throat.'

'Little severe for strep throat,' House answered, but with a satisfied look. He waited a moment before confirming, 'Patient was recovering from strep throat.'

'Glomerulonephritis,' Chase concluded.

'That was my idea. We're doing urine tests now, but it is my idea, so it's probably right.'

Chase nodded dully, but his breathing was back to normal. When he trusted his voice again, he offered, 'I think he just wanted to scare me. He was coming back.'

'That's sweet of him, but you're not going to be here.' House was met with a confused stare. 'Oh, we're through with this whole "this is none of your business" crap. You don't make it into work, it's my business. That was our agreement. Or, to be more accurate, that was what you yelled as you stormed out of the office. And you need to go to the hospital anyway.'

He shook his head firmly. 'No.'

'You want to wait for him to come home?' House asked incredulously.

Another head-shake, weaker this time. 'We can leave if you want. Just… not the hospital, okay?'

'You're bleeding.'

'Not a lot. There's a first aid kit. I'll…' he tried to get up.

House glared at him. 'Just how stupid are you? James, run and fetch the first aid kit, will you. We get to play doctor. It's not going to be as much fun as it sounds.'

'It's in the bathroom cabinet,' Chase murmured.

House pushed back Chase's bangs again. Mostly to himself he muttered, 'What am I going to do with you?'

Chase shrugged. He still looked out of it. At least, he wasn't functioning enough to differentiate between a rhetorical question and a serious one.

'When did he leave?' House asked, realizing that Chase hadn't mentioned it.

'What time did I leave the hospital yesterday?'

'Nine,' he answered, hoping that the question wasn't asked for the reason he was imagining.

'Then since ten, something like that.'

'You didn't…'

'What, call someone? No phone in the closet, unsurprisingly.'

'You could have shouted. The walls can't be that thick.'

'I didn't really think he'd be gone so long. Normally…' he realized that was a mistake, and trailed off.

'Normally.' House said, shortly.

'Normally when we fight he comes back in an hour or so.'

'That wasn't what you were going to say. You were going to say that normally when he locks you up, and I imagine there's probably some fun time with ropes as well, he doesn't leave you there overnight. Boy, you must have really ticked him off this time!'

'Yeah.'

Wilson came in with the first aid kit. It was well-stocked. A doctor's kit, not one of the pricy ones they tried to fob off on gullible consumers who thought that the bigger and shinier the box, the safer their family would be. Though there were fewer plastic stitches and dressings than he would have thought. No great surprise there.

House batted James's hands away and closed and dressed the cut himself. 'Anywhere else?'

'No. Just bruises.'

He ignored Chase, and pushed the t-shirt up to look at his chest. It was "just bruises", although bruise was a fairly mild word for some of the marks. 'Okay. Phone, now.'

'What?'

'Phone. Tell him,' he explained slowly and carefully, 'not to come back.'

'I…'

'Now, Chase. He interfered with your job - we're on my rules now.'

Chase gave him a long look, and got up. He walked out of the room.

House accepted Wilson's hand to pull himself up, and the two of them walked slowly after Chase. When they reached the living room, Chase was on the phone.

'I know that you were going to come back… Yeah, I do… but this isn't, it isn't good for either of us… I missed work today!... No, this has nothing to do with him… I…'

House came up behind Chase, and calmly took the phone. 'This is Greg House. Don't come back to his apartment, he's having the locks changed. If you come near him again, he'll take out a restraining order against you. And if I see you in the hospital, I will call the police myself and tell them what you did. As far as I'm aware assault, rape, and imprisonment are all still pretty serious crimes in New Jersey.'

He heard the bitter laughter on the other end of the line. Oh good, he was drunk. That probably explained why he hadn't come back, actually. Tom spat the words, 'Is that what he told you? That I hurt him? He was begging for it.'

House looked at Chase. His eyes were fixed on his hands, although it was obvious that he was listening to every word. 'Funny,' House answered, 'but that isn't what it looked like.'

'What's it to you, anyway? You've no right to tell me what I can and can't do! He's my boyfriend. What is he to you? He isn't yours,' he slurred.

'Wrong.'

'What?'

'That's where you're wrong. He is mine. So come near him again and it'll be the last thing you do as a free man.'

He hung up the phone. Chase was looking at him like he was deliverance. And like he wasn't entirely sure if his ears were working.

House nodded at the door. 'Go grab a toothbrush and a change of clothes. I'll take you to my house until your locks are changed.'

Chase nodded briefly and left to pack a bag.

Wilson hissed, 'Are you out of your mind!'

'That's a fairly common opinion, yes, but I have my doubts.'

'On a whim, you decide that the best way to deal with Chase's problems is to let him transfer his issues onto you? That's what this is. If you suddenly decided that it's vital to help Chase, there are other ways to do it. As it is,' he stuttered, 'this is just transference! He's moving from a physically abusive relationship with Tom to an emotionally abusive one with you!'

That made House angrier than it should have. 'I don't hit him!'

'I'm not saying you do…'

'And I'm saying that as long as I'm not hitting him, this is better. Can we at least agree on that much? Chase can sort out his childhood traumas on his own time. I don't care about that, I just need him not to come to work every day looking like he's just gone ten rounds. For God's sake, it's not like I'm taking him home to tie to the bed and ravish.'

'Thank you for that image.' Wilson shot back. 'This isn't healthy, you know that.'

'Neither is being knocked around and locked up in your own apartment! Aren't you the one who's always telling me to be nicer to my staff? I'm fairly sure it was you who was telling me, three months ago, to tread softly around Chase because of his Dad. What's changed?'

'I didn't expect you to decide to become his keeper and steal him from his boyfriend!'

'His abusive boyfriend!'

'You know perfectly well that part of the reason he even ended up in a relationship like that is…'

'Oh, so now this is my fault? Well then isn't it lucky that I've decided to fix my mistake?'

Chase coughed, hovering at the door.

They shut up instantly. Great, now they were sitcom parents. Whatever you do, don't air the problems in front of the kids.

'Coat,' Wilson instructed Chase, heedless of the fact that he was doing nothing to help House's terrifying mental pictures. Especially since he had been about half a second from sending Chase for a coat himself. Mother hens with one chick might have been more accurate. Except that House, of course, was in fact a lone parent with three chicks. And Wilson was married with none. Which may have been why he was suddenly trying to look after Chase, but that was no excuse for implying that House was the cause of the boy's problems. Rowan had done most of the hard work long before House had met either Chase.

'Out,' he ordered, before Wilson started trying to zip Chase's coat for him. One night, while the locks were changed. Then Chase would be able to move back into his own apartment, and the crazy boyfriend would be locked out. Then they could go back to their "emotionally abusive" but mostly functional boss-duckling relationship.

Seemingly intent on disproving him, Chase jumped backwards when House accidentally caught his side with the cane on the way out of the door.

Not exactly affectionately, but firmly, he placed a hand on Chase's arm. 'Come on, you've been called in sick for today and tomorrow, but Wilson and I need to go back to the hospital sometime today. Let's go.' He wrapped his fingers around Chase's elbow and led him out of the apartment.

FIN for now. Thoughts? (Oh, and the medical parts may be nonsense, I used WebMD, but having no medical knowledge whatsoever...)