CHAPTER NINE

"Think we should wake the wombat before we leave?" Chase heard House saying to Wilson the next morning.

"You know, he's really more of a wallaby. Small and bouncy."

"Whatever, they're all British."

"Australian," Chase automatically corrected.

"Well, looks like we don't have to wake the wombat anyways."

Wilson sat on the table in front of the couch, where House's friendly rodent usually was. "There's coffee left if you want any."

"Wait, give me a minute," Chase said as he sat up. "I'm coming, too."

"No," House said, tapping his cane on the floor. "You're on sick-leave, remember?"

Truth be told, Chase was still too tired to be any use, but he didn't want to be alone. Now that he was sleeping, that was letting nightmares in. "Can I at least come and work in the clinic?"

"No," House repeated before turning and leaving.

Wilson gave Chase a sympathetic look before following.

By the time the older doctors came back that night, Chase had finished the crossword book, as well as the one in the news paper. He was staring at the TV, not really watching.

"How are you feeling?" Wilson asked as he sat down next to Chase.

"Like crap."

"Have you slept at all?" House asked as he threw his coat in the closet.

"Barely."

"Too much pain?"

Chase nodded. "For one."

"Here." House handed him one of his pills.

"House, I'm not taking your drugs."

"Fine." House swallowed the pill.

Chase pulled himself into a sitting position. "Can I at least come in with you guys? I really don't want to be a lone. And, it's not like I'm contagious or anything."

"God damn it. Fine, you can come stay in the diagnostic room. But, no work. And your not going to be getting paid, either."

Chase smiled. "Thanks, House. Give me a few minutes to change?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just hurry the hell up, it's almost 10."