Rhiannon: Okay... erm... well... I don't really have much to say...
The song is Solace by Fuel
"Solace"—Fuel
Draw the shades to close my eyes
(I never want to see again)
I found the cost of courage high
(Sometimes hard to pay)
Chase jumped as the blinds closed and sunk down in bed closing his eyes. This could only mean another well meaning visit. He didn't want to see whoever it was right now. Regardless of if it was Cameron or House or Foreman. Looks of pity or smugness just weren't anything he wanted to deal with right now. It was bad enough that now he had to go to therapy… again. As if the depression wasn't enough. He wished they get off their soap boxes and realize that not everyone has the courage to face life day after day.
I hear the song the sirens sing
(Calling on the shore for me)
So sell your soul and try to fly
(The tether still remains)
Somewhere in the brief moments that he had closed his eyes he'd been given something. Probably for the pain of his wounds, not that it mattered, another plane of existence another place to experience the pains he couldn't escape.
In this wondrous dreamscape he was back in Australia standing on a beach on a perfect day. He was just a few inches from the tide line and he desperately wanted to step forward but found he couldn't. Of its own accord, his head turned and he saw PPTH standing tall and bright behind him and the choice laid out before him.
"I would sell my soul to belong." He whispered but his own voice sounded so far away, ripped from him by invisible winds.
He tried to move towards the building, towards the familiar places and people he knew would be inside but he couldn't move that way either. He was stuck, neither here nor there.
And all the finer things they laid upon my table
Smiled as their hooks were slowly sinking in
He jerked awake and saw food that was obviously not made within the hospital. He looked up to see Cameron smiling at him and he sighed deeply.
"Thank you." He whispered and hoped it sounded like he meant it.
She didn't respond either way. She simply pushed the food forward and he could almost imagine her caring as some kind of thick miasma that was blanketing the room. He wondered if maybe that was simply the medicine still flowing in his system.
Another pill I'm to consume
(To make me learn to feel again)
Followed by another one
(To make me loose the same)
"It's ironic isn't it?" Cameron stated from where she sat holding on to the pill bottle. "The things that could cure you are the very same things that could kill you."
He agreed whole-heartedly though he said nothing. The bottle she held were his antidepressants that he'd been taking religiously for years until two days ago when his body decided to be come allergic to them. Or maybe that was just how long it took the reaction to become severe.
"I talked to your doctor… they're thinking about switching you back to Prozac." He nodded distractedly. Prozac made him more lethargic if anything, especially after the brief high it gave his personality.
"Are you going to say anything at all Chase?" He just looked at her with glassy blue eyes and she nodded to herself a bit distracted before she got up and left. Cameron liked gratification and Chase couldn't give that even with out the drugs coursing thickly in his system.
God if I could recognize
(The things to make me whole again)
And draw this air into my lungs
(Remember how to breathe)
The sunlight was hot on his skin but the stiff New Jersey air pulled the heat away just as quickly as it hit. He slowly climbed out of the wheel chair and walked the short distance to Cameron's car and let her drive him home. She walked him up to the door of his apartment and stood there awkwardly but he didn't invite her in, just whispered thank you and closed the door in her face.
His apartment hadn't changed a bit since he'd left it due to the reaction. He barely recognized it. He slumped down on the couch and drew in breath after breath and cleared his throat of the burning, itchy memory of being intubated.
For as the curtain rose I danced as I was able
Felt my deception slowly sinking in
When he entered Princeton-Plainsboro almost a week later he felt more like an actor then a doctor. The play was going on and though he was one of the main characters he obviously didn't have his lines memorized because he was the only one lacking. The case went back quickly and he'd spent most of it in the lounge staring at the whiteboard with something close to confusion marring his features.
Oh well, House had always thought he was stupid. Might as well live up to it. At least that wouldn't be a lie. He took off his badge and lab coat before he walked into House's office and sat behind his desk. Maybe he could lie and say that he was doing research.
So I turn to you for love
(For the solace that is there)
And offer any cherished thing
(For a slight reprieve)
He couldn't believe that House had followed him home citing some bullshit about being concerned. He'd heard the roar of the sleek deathtrap as he'd opened the door and had hoped that it was a just a passer by. But he'd recognize the bike anywhere. He eyed his boss critically before turning and walking towards the elevator.
"I've been off suicide watch for over a week now." He pointed out as they both stepped into the elevator, Chase one step behind just like at the hospital.
"I'm not here to babysit. That's Cameron's job." The diagnostician reminded him as they got out on Chase's floor and then entered the apartment.
The blond merely shrugged and made coffee for his boss and tea for himself and they sat in silence and it was… quaint. It occurred to Chase that House was offering sympathy and support in the only way he knew how… and that was by keeping quiet. House wasn't the time to use pointless words or gestures and Chase had to admit that this did more for his fragile state of mind then anything else that had been done for him.
It was almost like a gentle reprieve from the world and he almost felt guilty that he had nothing to offer the older doctor but he knew that House wanted nothing in return. It was strange but ever since the week that he locked himself in the apartment and House had led the team in to breaking in their relationships had been changing. He and Cameron had gotten closer… Foreman had backed off a bit. And House… House was almost but not quite a friend.
I hoped that you might find me here
(And I could learn to smile again)
As a balm for these wounds
(Take away the sting)
Chase was having a back slide. He knew that the suicidal thoughts he was entertaining meant that the Prozac wasn't doing much for him. Or maybe he'd missed a pill or two in the upset of last week with the woman who was trying to off her own child. But loosing that baby had stung. Even more so had House's refusal to let him hurt himself anymore… even if it was said in his own sarcastic, almost hurtful way.
If House was here now he'd have more words to say to him and none of them would be nice. Standing on a five story building contemplating what you have to live for is not exactly a good sign for him. Or really anyone. He breathed in and slowly released the air and managed a smile as the door banged open to admit a man with a very pronounced limp.
"You know there are no elevators that lead up here."
"I was hoping that it would discourage you." The blond stated as he looked over at him.
"You should know by now that things like this encourage me." The taller man pointed out with a little smile that Chase couldn't resist attempting to match.
"Shouldn't you be annoying Wilson?" He asked as he turned and leaned his back against the high railing.
"He's busying with prostate exams." House waved his cane to dismiss the topic but Chase couldn't resist adding a thought to that.
"Shouldn't you be saving him from that? Or do you only interrupt him during breast examinations?"
"It's much, much more fun to interrupt him when he's with a woman. Wilson is depressingly straight."
"Ah… because it gives you less to tease him about." Chase nodded sagely and let house change the subject. He didn't mind these interludes, really. Especially at times like now, it was almost like medicine for his tired emotions.
And as the band did play your body I did cradle
I should have known that song would have to end
House knows that he's dreaming when he looks down and Chase is lying in his arms as he cradles him gently. He's not sure when his attempts at trying to help Chase had become misconstrued in his mind. He could think of many reasons to write it all off as infatuation, among other things but then the song ended and he jerked awake and was on the couch alone.
If only the song was longer… then maybe the delusion wouldn't seem so cruel.
