Here is chapter fifteen. Wow, chapter fifteen already? This story just seems to fly by to me... I have written longer stories, but this one could give them a run for their money! Here we go!


Chase's Confessions

He sat on the floor of his darkened bedroom, leaning against the bed, the gun in his hands. He had bought it for protection after one of his friends had been robbed while he was still in college and kept it through the years, the gun never having been loaded until now. Chase thought he must be going crazy. This wasn't like him, not at all. He had never raised his hand in violence before, but punched House so hard in the face that his knuckles were bruised. These were real bruises, not the fake bruise Cameron had put on to fool House. He had heard about it from Cuddy as she stormed past, muttering under her breath when he had come back to the hospital. The guards had taken him from the hospital and Stacy had to come down to the jail later on to free him. She paid for his bail and swore at him the entire ride from the jail to the hospital, making him wish he was almost back in his holding cell. He had only been there for an hour after the incident, Cuddy sending Stacy to get him after she found out that the guards had not just held him at the hospital but had called the police to cart him away.

House told the main office to let anyone who needed to know that he wasn't pressing charges against Chase and that he would be back tomorrow to pick up his things.

Chase turned the gun over in his hands, the little handgun gleaming ominously from the light coming from the the other room. He wasn't going to hurt himself. He was going to take it with him tomorrow to work and keep it in his office all day. He doubted House would attempt revenge for the accident that day, but House was starting to lose his mind, it seemed. Anything was possible.

He was so disappointed: with Cameron, for lying and causing this mess; with Foreman, for never confronting the problems that were not medical related; with Wilson, for being so ignorant; with Cuddy, for putting Wilson on the case; with House, for being such an awful excuse for a human being. And with himself, he was disappointed with himself. This wasn't the way life was supposed to be. He was still young, he still had a future ahead of him. Now, he was going to have to live his entire life with the fact he had taken a gun to work to protect himself from his boss. House had always treated him awful, making rude jokes at his expense. That wasn't right. He couldn't keep doing that.

Chase leaned his head back against the bed, the gun falling to the floor beside him as his hand slipped off his lap. He was so tired, so tired... he just wanted sleep. Damn Cameron, he thought, damn her to hell. She had lied about the bruise and he, trying to be a good person, had reported it to Cuddy, expecting nothing to come of it than a reprimand for House. He had only wanted to protect her and her stupid feelings for House. The girl was infatuated with him, but he would have nothing to do with her. It was her problems that caused this: it had been a chain effect. No matter what Foreman and he himself had told her, no matter how many times they asked her to stay away from him when he was in a bad mood, she ignored them and got herself hurt.

Now, everything was chaotic. Today had been the last step to the end of everything they knew. Tomorrow would be the peak of everything. Tomorrow was when things would come together for good or bad and nothing would stay the same. Chase felt the cold of the gun under his hand.

He hoped he would never have to use it.


I am not suggesting Chase was going to commit suicide or anything. That was not intended, so if this was a shocker, I didn't want it to be horrifying... I wanted it to be scary, yes, because here is Chase, usually so level headed, contemplating his life falling apart. House pushed him to this point with his cynical personality and Chase has snapped. Please tell me what you think and thank you for reading!