REWIND...part 4
Chase was frustrated. Three days later and House was still refusing to allow Vanessa to come see him, or even call. And everyone seemed to be supporting him. He was also refusing to let Chase leave the hospital. Not that he was in any condition to argue that point much.
Just this morning he had pulled out his IV after sweet talking a nurse into bringing him a set of scrubs. He had then managed a quick shower, scrubbing his hair as well, but by the time he was done and dressed he'd had to pretty much accept crawling back to bed. Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Foreman had been waiting outside the door. After practically hauling Chase back to bed, Foreman had hooked him up to another IV before threatening to shove his breakfast down his throat if he didn't eat. Chase had eaten what he could, only to throw it up a few minutes ago. So at this point he was still feeling like shit warmed over.
The only positive thing to happen was that Chase had been House free for two days. A fact that should have made him happy, but it actually worried him a bit. He had a feeling House was up to something that was going to affect him in a negative way.
After flipping through all the magazines Cameron had brought him, Chase flipped through the TV channels. Nothing of interest. Cameron had also brought him a novel, some thriller, that looked interesting enough, but trying to focus well enough to read made his head hurt. So Chase settled for sleeping. Which was helping him feel stronger, which was a positive thing.
He was lightly dozing, in fact, when Wilson popped his head in. Chase struggled a bit to wake up, frowning when he saw who it was. It wasn't as if he and Wilson were friends or anything. Which made Chase suspicious that House had sent him for some reason. "Is something wrong?" Chase asked, because he wasn't sure what else to say.
"Probably," Wilson allowed. He looked nervous and kept glancing towards the door. "I brought someone to see you," he said, then he was at the door and pulling a familiar figure inside.
Chase was stunned. "Vanessa?" She flew over to his bedside and hugged him. Over her shoulder Chase locked eyes with Wilson. He was happy to see Vanessa and hugged her back, but he was totally confused. Pulling away, but allowing Vanessa to take hold of one hand, Chase confronted Wilson. "House allowed this?"
Wilson shook his head. "No. He doesn't know about it. Of course he's going to know about it soon enough, and he's going to be pissed as hell. But I'll deal with it."
"Why did you do this?" Chase countered, then realized how blunt and cold it sounded. "Not that I'm not grateful." He smiled up at Vanessa who was eyeing him with concern. Chase then focused back on Wilson. "But we're not friends and House is going to be so pissed at you."
"We all have reasons for the things we do," Wilson replied, an enigmatic look on his face. "I would think you'd understand, better than anyone, about not wanting to share those reasons."
Chase couldn't argue that point. He knew that people formed an instant impression of him and he always allowed them to live with it. Like Foreman and his belief that Chase didn't care about patients, or anything really. He didn't need for anyone to know who he really was. He was content to let them make things up and act towards him accordingly. So he nodded at Wilson then said, "Thanks."
Wilson shrugged. "Sure. Just enjoy what time you do have." With that he was out the door.
Chase then found himself enveloped in another hug. A smothering hug. He allowed it mostly because he was too tired to protest. When Vanessa finally eased back, Chase managed to smile at her. "How have you been?" he queried. She looked worn out and anxious. Jittery. That wasn't a good sign.
"I've been worried about you, beautiful," Vanessa replied, trailing shaky fingers over his face as if mapping it to memory. "You're going to be all right though, aren't you?"
"I'm going to be fine," Chase assured her, grabbing her roaming hand and pressing it to his chest. "Don't worry about me. I'll be home soon."
Vanessa nodded, tugging her hand free and releasing his other one so that she could pace about the room. "I'm sorry about not coming to see you."
Chase cut her off. "It wasn't your fault."
"They wouldn't let me in," Vanessa continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "I would have come."
"I know." Chase watched her closely, wondering if she'd stopped drinking since he'd gotten sick. She looked like she did the couple of times she'd tried to stop in the past. Not that it ever lasted long. Up to three days at most, then she felt so crappy she tended to drown herself in a bottle. A sudden flash of memory, of his mother doing the same thing, flitted into Chase's head and he stiffened, startled by its clarity and, shaken by the emotions that came with it. He didn't want to think about his mother anymore. "Don't worry about it, Vanessa," Chase said firmly. "You're here now."
She stopped pacing and turned to face him. "I can't stay though. I have meetings today. I didn't expect to be able to see you." She was back by the bed and leaning in to kiss him.
Chase kissed her back, feeling the way she was shaking. He pulled back to study her face. "Are you going to be okay?" He was half tempted to call for Wilson and have him take her to an exam room just to be sure. Her skin looked a bit ashen and her eyes were sunken in a face that was a bit bloated looking.
"I could have killed you," Vanessa whispered, and she was blinking hard as if holding back tears.
"The alcohol could have killed me," Chase countered, his voice going sharp. "I'm the one who drank it. You didn't force me too." He knew there was no one to blame for what happened, except himself. "It won't happen again," he added more softly, reaching out to capture one of her hands and bring it to his lips. He pressed a butterfly kiss into her palm then smiled at her. "You go about your business and I'll be home soon. Okay?"
Vanessa nodded, leaning in for another kiss and to slide her fingers through his hair as she was wont to do. "I'll come back soon," she promised.
Chase smiled. "Okay," he replied, all the while knowing that she wouldn't be. Vanessa didn't handle sickness well, not even her own. He knew he'd be released soon so he would be home and everything would go back to normal. He was craving normal about now. Normal as in sitting in the conference room with House tormenting him. That was a normal Chase could deal with.
"I love you, beautiful," Vanessa whispered. Then she kissed him again before almost running from the room.
She hadn't waited for Chase to say the words back. As he shifted onto his side and closed his eyes, he realized she never did. And maybe that should have meant something, but he was too tired to care.
OoO
House was watching General Hospital in his office, when Wilson dropped in. He could tell by the look on the other man's face that he had done something he didn't want to tell House about. But at the same time, he was obvious he was going to spill his guts. Curious, House turned off the mini TV and focused all of his attention on his friend. "So, what's up?" he prompted.
Wilson heaved a sigh then blurted out, "I brought Vanessa in to see Chase. She's with him right now."
The words sank it, but it took House a moment to react. Anger warred with disbelief but anger won out. "What the hell were you thinking!" he snarled, rising from his chair and moving around his desk to confront Wilson. "You do realize you just undid all the good I've done the past few days!" He was so angry now he was starting to see red, so he leaned against the desk and tried to calm himself.
"I was thinking that you need help," Wilson quietly replied.
"Help?" House echoed, letting his expression show his confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose, then he looked thoughtful for a moment, as if carefully choosing what he was going to say. "The only thing you've accomplished by keeping Chase and Vanessa apart is to piss Chase off enough to want to quit. And I think he's seriously thinking about it. So, to prevent that from happening, I let him see Vanessa."
House stared at Wilson in disbelief. "And you really think that's going to help? That woman is the reason Chase is playing patient instead of playing doctor. She's the reason he almost died!"
"But he didn't die," Wilson countered firmly. "and you're going to lose him anyway if you don't back off. The thing about that is, you need him as much as he needs you."
"Trying to moonlight in psychobabble again?" House scoffed. He wasn't going to listen to Wilson spout nonsense. He didn't need Chase in his life. The kid was an emotional mess, and a pain in House's proverbial ass. The only reason he was bothering with him at all was because the Aussie had the potential to be a damn brilliant doctor someday. If he didn't kill himself with stupidity first.
Wilson shook his head, then turned to head out the door. But he called over his shoulder, "Do you have to do. I've done what I can." With that he walked out without looking back.
House watched him go before limping back to his chair and settling in so he could go back to watching General Hospital. Only he didn't bother to turn the TV on. He realized that at this moment he had enough drama to deal with.
OoO
Chase only vaguely listened as Cameron filled him in on the hospital gossip. He appreciated her concern for him, but he didn't feel like visiting with anyone right now. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was leave and go home. Which he'd brought up when Cameron first arrived only to be told that House had no intention of releasing him any sooner than four days from now. He had argued that he didn't need to be here for four days and Cameron had stalled him by telling him to talk to House. House was the last person Chase wanted to talk to.
"So how did you meet Vanessa?" Cameron was asking.
Which threw Chase off balance because he realized he hadn't been paying attention and Cameron had shifted the subject matter onto something entirely too personal. So Chase glared at her and replied, "Do I ask you about your private life?"
Cameron quirked an eyebrow, looking more surprised than hurt by his sharpness. Then she said softly, I thought maybe you'd like to talk about it?"
"Can't think of any reason why I would," Chase shot back, not meeting her eyes.
"How about because that's what friends do," Cameron replied. "And I'd like to think that we're friends."
Chase sighed, one hand lifting to rub at his temple. He could feel a headache kicking in. "That must have happened when I wasn't looking."
This time Cameron flinched at his words. "Guess I was wrong. Sorry. I won't bother you again."
"Wait!" Chase called after her as she hurried for the door. When she froze in place he whispered, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"Why do you insist on keeping people at arm's length," Cameron asked, as she returned to his bed side. "Why can't you let anyone in?"
Chase sighed and realized he would have to give her a reason. He owed her that much. "Let's just say that I don't do friendships well. Okay? And if you got to know me, you wouldn't like me anyway."
Cameron shook her head at him. "I don't believe that. I know you're not the person you want people to believe you are."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Chase queried, because he was both surprised to hear her say that and a bit worried that he was giving too much away. He tried so hard not to let anyone get too close. It was all about letting people see who they wanted to see when they looked at him. That way they tended to want to keep their distance and that made life easier all the way around. It kept Chase from becoming tempted to want something he knew he would never have. To pretend that he deserved to love someone and to be loved. He knew better.
"It means you've got everything going for you," Cameron replied, looking a bit frustrated. "You have looks and money which draw people to you like a moth to a flame, but you don't let them get close enough to touch you. You want people to believe you don't give a damn about anything or anyone."
Chase shrugged. "That's because I don't." He wondered if he pulled off sounding blasé. Sometimes he tried to imitate house in that respect, but he was all too aware of how he fell short of that particular standard. House had it down to a science.
Cameron smiled softly. "I've seen you with patients. How you interact with them when you think no one's looking. And whenever we have a case and you've worked with a patient, almost every time when I go in to see them they have something nice to say about you. Hell, sometimes they practically rave about you. You know how to make a good impression, but you're selective in who gets to see that side of you."
"What do you care?" Chase shot back, because he really wanted to stop her in her tracks. The last thing he needed was Cameron trying to psychoanalyze him. If he could piss her off, maybe she would go away.
"I care because I care," Cameron said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I'll see you later." With that she walked out of the room.
Leaving Chase to wonder just how messed up his life had become. He didn't have much time for introspection because a few minutes later Cuddy was knocking on the door and entering with a strained smile on her face.
"Got a minute?" she asked, as she reached his side.
"Depends," Chase countered. "Am I in trouble?" Because he got the distinct impression that whatever she wanted to talk about, he wasn't going to like it.
Cuddy released a soft sigh, then offered a tired smile. "You're not in trouble, but there is something we need to discuss."
Chase knew for sure he wasn't going to be happy with this conversation, but that aside he figured she might as well get straight to the point. "What's up?"
"I've been reviewing you case file," Cuddy began.
"Why?" Chase tensed up, feeling the ache in his head throttle up into a pounding throb in both temples.
Cuddy held up a hand, gesturing for him to let her finish. "You've been through a lot in the past year, Chase. The emotional trauma would have broken most people, myself included."
It was Chase's turn to hold up a hand to stop her. "I'm not most people!" he hissed, indignantly.
"Add to that what's happened in your childhood and so on, it's no surprise that you're struggling right now," Cuddy continued, as if he hadn't interrupted.
"Who says I'm struggling?" Chase was getting angry now.
Cuddy looked pained as she replied, "I think your actions speak for themselves. You know I wanted you to go into sessions after your suspension and the incident of the aftermath of your father's death."
Chase closed his eyes, not wanting to rehash this. "I didn't need therapy then and I don't need it now," he whispered. If she pushed him he was more than ready to walk out the door and never look back.
"You nearly died from alcohol poisoning," Cuddy stated, as if he needed reminding.
"I did something stupid," Chase allowed. "I didn't know that would happen." He couldn't have known. Up until that fateful night, he'd never had more than three glasses of wine in one sitting. Vodka had never been his drink of choice.
Cuddy touched his arm, waiting for him to look at her before continuing. "I want you to go into sessions with Dr. Bradley. Just once a week for a few months. I think it will help you."
Chase scowled at her. "Talking doesn't help anything!" he shot back. "It's just saying words that don't mean anything."
"I'm making it a condition of you being able to come back to work," Cuddy said softly.
"I'm not an alcoholic." Chase was barely able to force the words out, but he knew she could hear the desperation in his voice. Knew it had to be mirrored in his eyes.
Cuddy looked at him with what could only be sympathy. "Some addictions aren't drug or alcohol related," she stated.
Chase knew what she was saying and he wanted to scream at her that she was wrong. He wasn't addicted to fucking up his life, or to making nothing but wrong choices. He didn't need to talk about what had happened. He just needed to be able to move past it. He tried to think of some way to convince her to change her mind, but one look at her face and he knew she wouldn't bend on this. Cuddy could out stubborn a mule when she wanted too. "Do I have to talk to a shrink?" he countered, tempering his voice to something resembling neutral.
"What do you mean?" Cuddy frowned at him in confusion.
"Can I talk to you instead?" Chase was warming up to his own idea. "You're the one who needs to be satisfied that I'm functional, right? So talking directly to you solves the problem. For both of us. Because that way I don't feel like I'm babbling my private life to some stranger."
Cuddy looked nonplussed for a moment, her eyebrows drawing down into a frown as she contemplated his request. After a long moment of silence, she nodded. "All right, we'll try it your way," she allowed. "We'll have our first, unofficial, session tomorrow. First thing in the morning."
Chase nodded, then he remembered something he wanted to ask her. "Listen, um...House won't release me so I was wondering if you could sign me out. I promise to show up first thing tomorrow."
"I think it's best if you stay here for a few more days," Cuddy countered, looking almost apologetic. "But I'll see if I can get you released sooner than what House has been threatening you with."
"Fair enough," Chase replied, offering a smile. He was willing to take whatever he could get. With that he watched Cuddy glide away, then he turned on his side and closed his eyes. But he didn't fall asleep. He was afraid to dream.
OoO
House hadn't had the best two days. They didn't have a patient, which meant Cameron and Foreman were doing a lot of clinic time, which did work in his favor. But on the negative aspect, he had been avoiding Chase. Which was actually in Chase's best interest. So long as House wasn't in the same room with the Aussie, he wouldn't be tempted to choke him. Another plus was the fact that after her initial visit, it turned out Vanessa hadn't bothered to come back. Apparently Chase was being close-mouthed as to why, but House realized he didn't care why. He only cared that she wasn't around.
What bothered House was that Chase was being released tomorrow.. Cuddy had set her foot down about that, in spite of House's best arguments against it. Mainly that letting Chase go back to Vanessa would be detrimental to his health. Cuddy had just smiled at him and told him to deal. The only plus side was that Chase was coming back to work the day after, which meant House could keep an eye on him, at least during daytime hours.
But it wasn't enough and House knew it. So to that end, he tracked down Wilson. "I need you to talk to Chase," House blurted out.
Wilson looked surprised at that. "You'd trust me to do that after the Vanessa thing?"
"She hasn't been back so I'm hoping it's a wake up call for Chase, in which case you did a good thing. Even though it was accidental," House replied. "So go talk to him."
"What about?" Wilson looked intrigued, but confused.
House heaved a sigh, wishing that people would just do as they were told without expecting explanations for everything. Explanations and reasons were just words filling up space and masquerading as something significant. Ultimately they were empty and meaningless, and with that thought House gave himself a mental slap down for waxing so damn philosophical. He had better things to do with his time. "Talk to him about things," he stated.
Wilson was amused by that, if his smirky grin were anything to go by. "Things?" he echoed. "Any things in particular?"
"Funny," House drawled, knowing when he was being played. He was the master of it, after all. "Just get him talking about anything. Other than medicine. Find out if he's a cat lover or a dog lover. If he pulled wings off flies as a kid. Or maybe he was a bed wetter."
"Are you describing your own childhood?" Wilson interjected, fighting a laugh.
House whacked him in the shin with his cane. Not hard enough to hurt really, just hard enough to get his attention. "Chase is being released tomorrow and he hasn't talked to anyone about what happened. Cameron is too nosy, Foreman and Chase aren't exactly buddies and Chase is a bit miffed at me."
Wilson snorted. "Like that's something knew. And it's not like he would talk to you anyway."
"Which is my point," House countered, somewhat snappishly. And he knew he was feeling peeved because Wilson was being far too perceptive about what he was doing and why.
"Can't you just admit that you're worried about Chase, then ask me...nicely...to chat with him?" Wilson countered.
House gave him a bug-eyed and overly dramatic, surprised reaction. "Have you met me?" he shot back, without missing a beat.
Wilson sighed. "Unfortunately...yes," he drawled, heaving an overblown sigh. "But…okay. I'll talk to Chase. Even though we both know it'll be a waste of time. He's not going to talk to me. If I were a betting man I'd lay odds on him talking to God before he'd talk to any of us."
"You suck at betting," House replied, nudging Wilson in the right direction. "Besides which, don't sell yourself short. Chase kinda owes you one for sneaking Vanessa in and he's the type of guy that hates owing anyone anything. I bet he'll pay his debt and have a chat with you."
"Bet you a steak dinner at LoSerno's that he won't," Wilson countered.
House smirked and shook Wilson's outstretched hand. "You're on. And I'm going to want dessert." Knowing that he had achieved his goal, House was ready to move on to the next problem. How to keep himself from being bored for the six hours before General Hospital came on.
OoO
Chase was trying to read when Wilson entered the room. He was surprised to see the other man and didn't bother to hide it, laying his book aside to focus on him. In truth he was a welcome distraction. "Dr. Wilson," he offered in greeting.
Wilson moved to his bedside, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I hear you're being released tomorrow," he stated.
"Yeah, Dr. Cuddy arranged it," Chase replied. He studied Wilson's face, seeing his left eye twitch a bit. He was pretty sure House had sent Wilson to see him. Why, however, was a mystery.
"Then back to work the next day?" Wilson continued. At Chase's nod he added, "Sure you're ready for that?"
Chase nodded again. "After all this time in bed, I can't wait to up and about."
Wilson offered a smile at that. "I can imagine. You know why House kept you here."
"To keep me from going home to Vanessa," Chase promptly replied. "It's not like he was trying to hide it from me. I know he hates her and he blames her for what happened."
"Who do you blame?" Wilson shot back.
Chase was surprised by the question and by the tone in which it was asked. Wilson seemed a bit intense. "I blame myself," he replied, without hesitation. "I drank the vodka."
Wilson looked pleased by his answer and he seemed to relax a bit. "Ever had alcohol poisoning before?"
"Is this twenty questions?" Chase countered, more curious than upset about it. Even though he knew anything he said to Wilson would, potentially, be relayed back to House. So far they were on safe ground so he was willing to answer.
"Just curious," Wilson replied.
Chase almost smiled at that. "You're curious or House is curious?"
Wilson grimaced, running a hand over his face before replying, "Sometimes it feels like that's interchangeable."
"I've never had it before," Chase answered. "Now, can I ask you something?"
"Seems only fair," Wilson allowed.
Chase was glad to hear that, then he geared himself up for what he wanted to say. He cleared his throat then said, "I know House sent you to talk to me, but if I said I actually do want to talk to you about what happened, will you apply doctor-patient confidentiality?"
Wilson looked surprised by his question, his eyes going wide, then narrowing thoughtfully. "In other words you don't want House to know anything you say to me."
"I don't want anyone to know," Chase said, being specific.
"Well, I did prescribe allergy pills for you the first year you came here," Wilson replied. "Guess that makes you a patient, if only technically."
Chase needed him to be very clear on what was expected. "You promise you won't say anything to anyone?"
Wilson nodded, his expression grave. "As your doctor, I won't say a word to anyone. Whatever you say to me in this room, stays in this room."
"Okay, thank you." Chase felt a sense of relief. He took a breath, released it slowly, then blurted out, "I'm having sessions with Cuddy."
"Sessions?" Wilson repeated, looking confused.
Chase winced then tried to explain. "She wanted me to go to a shrink and I bargained her down to being able to talk to her instead."
Wilson looked impressed. "Clever."
"I suppose. It's easy enough to say what she wants to hear," Chase allowed.
"But not the truth?" Wilson was no fool.
Chase shrugged. "The truth she needs to hear." He shifted about, searching for a more comfortable position. Wishing he could just tear out his IV and walk out of the room. At least the IV was coming out later, so he had that to look forward to. But he was losing track of his focus.
Wilson was watching him closely. After a moment he grabbed a chair, hauled it over and sat down. "Why are you telling me this really?" he asked.
"Because you don't care what I tell you," Chase promptly replied. And that was the crux of it. They weren't friends, not exactly enemies. Wilson was like Switzerland in a sense. Neutral territory. "And because I trust you not to tell House. You're the only one in this place I can trust to respect my privacy. Or maybe it's just a test to see if you will. You respected my dad's privacy."
"It's that whole doctor-patient thing," Wilson interjected.
Chase nodded. "Which I'm calling you on now," he reminded him.
Wilson nodded. "Right. So, what did you want to talk about?"
"How do you know when you're in love?" Chase blurted out. "How do you know it's real?"
"You're asking me that?" Wilson looked stunned. "I'm the guy that falls in love at the drop of the hat. I don't have an answer for that, Chase."
Chase realized Wilson wasn't an expert by any means. He just wanted to pick his brain a bit. He knew he, himself, was a train wreck when it came to emotional relationships. Hence the stupid things he'd done in his life, like sleeping with Cameron when she was high on meth, because he knew she loved House and therefore sleeping with her would have no repercussions. Or kissing Andie because a nine year old had the ability to manipulate him against his better judgment. Wilson had to have a better grasp of all things emotional than he did. "Just tell me what you think love is supposed to be," Chase clarified. Then he spent the next half hour listening and asking questions. By the time Wilson left, Chase was just as confused as before, but at least it gave him something different to think about. And it kept his subconscious mind preoccupied enough to let him sleep without dreaming.
OoO
House cornered Wilson, just seconds after he came out of Chase's room. "So? What happened?"
"We talked," Wilson replied, noncommittally.
"Ah ha!" House exulted.
Wilson quirked an eyebrow at him. "For the record, we had a nice chat."
House stared at him in disbelief. He knew a lot more had gone on that Wilson wasn't telling him. The thing being, why wasn't he telling him? He should be spouting details. "That's it?" he huffed.
"That's it. The rest comes under confidentiality," Wilson countered smoothly. "Oh, a word to the wise though. Chase is doing better, so leave him be." With that, Wilson turned and continued walking.
"You still owe me dinner!" House shouted after him, before muttering curses beneath his breath when all Wilson did was waggle a hand in the air. For a moment House debated going into Chase's room and confronting him. But then he decided to take Wilson's advice. For the moment anyway. So he stomped off down the hallway.
The next day, however, was a different matter. When House went to check on Chase he was surprised to find Cameron already there, fussing over the Aussie. Chase looked a bit irritated by the attention, but had a smile firmly plastered on his face as Cameron helped him with his jacket. He was dressed in jeans and a blue pullover, and the jacket was his black leather one.
"Going so soon?" House quipped, as he fully entered the room.
"No thanks to you," Chase shot back, a flicker of anger there and gone in his eyes.
House leaned on his cane then shrugged with a nonchalance born of years of practice. "What can I say? I have this thing about not releasing patients until they're well again."
Chase narrowed his gaze at House for a moment, then softly replied, "I'm healing well enough."
"Sure you are." House let his disbelief color his tone for all to hear. He then limped in a bit farther, tapping Cameron on the shoulder with his cane. "Go away while I talk to Chase," he told her. She glared at him for a moment before turning back to Chase for one last moment of fussing.
"Call for me when you're ready to leave," she ordered, because it was nothing but. "I'll bring the car around."
Chase sighed. "I already told you I'll catch a cab."
Cameron shook her head at him. "I'm driving you. It's no bother." With that she made as if to pat Chase on the shoulder, but seemed to think better of it, pulling her hand back before turning and almost stalking out the door.
"Must be PMSing," House commented, watching her go.
"What do you want?" Chase asked, pushing past the bullshit.
House was more than happy to get straight to the point, in his own meandering kind of way. "So why isn't Vanessa here to take you home?" he queried, his eyes locked on Chase's pale face. He was looking for any and all reactions that might give him a clue what the Aussie was thinking or feeling. Chase was the best of the ducklings at hiding his true feelings. He had an innate ability to remain almost disturbingly calm. He could think on his feet in any crisis. It was something House admired about him, not that he'd ever admit to it. And it was a handy trait to have as a specialist in Intensive Care. But annoying at times as far as House was concerned. Chase tended not to take the bait when House wanted to play with him. Like now.
Chase did nothing more than offer a crooked smile as he replied, "She's home, waiting for me."
"Get a good nights sleep," House said, eyeing the dark circles under Chase's eyes. Blue eyes that looked dull at the moment. With all the sleeping he'd been doing, his eyes should be sparkling, but they looked hollow and empty. And House decided he didn't want to give it any more meaning other than the kid was tired. "You do remember you're back to work tomorrow, right?"
"I remember," Chase drawled. He turned away, reaching for a small bag that bulged with books and magazines. "See you tomorrow," Chase called over his shoulder, as he headed for the door.
House moved to intercept him, but Chase was faster, he was in the hallway when House called after him, "What about Cameron!" But Chase didn't respond, he just kept walking. House watched him till he was out of sight, rather hoping he would get caught by Cameron. He could page her. Plus there was the hospital regulations stating that all discharged patients must escorted out by wheelchair. The chair that was sitting in corner of the room looking rather forlorn.
Heaving a sigh, House sat down in the chair, propped his cane between his knees and wheeled himself down to his office. He hoped Cameron would be there so he could torment her for a while, since Chase wasn't being any fun. But House realized he didn't really feel up to playing his usual games, and that his thoughts were focused on what special hell was waiting for Chase when he got home.
THE END...of part 4