REWIND...part 7

Because of her pain meds, Vanessa didn't drink for a week. She had her moody times but Chase was used to dealing with those and they felt comfortingly familiar. When he wasn't working, he was spending time with Vanessa, making love with her, or just talking. Never about the future though, it was as if both of them were afraid to think about it. When he wasn't working or sleeping or such, Chase went running. He even started running during his lunch breaks. More like a short but fast sprint around the hospital grounds, then zipping into the locker room to shower and change. But it gave him a fix of sorts that kept him energized for the day.

Life was surprisingly good at the moment which, not surprisingly, couldn't last. Of course it was House who had to start picking at it, as if Chase's personal life was a nearly healed wound that House just couldn't resist ripping the scab off of.

"Forget your blow dryer?" was his comment, when Chase rushed into the conference room after his shower. "If you're going to have afternoon nookie, you should at least try not to look like you've been busy. If you get my drift. So, who are you cheating on Vanessa with? Someone in the children's ward?"

It would have been so easy to snap at House, but Chase didn't want to lose the rush the run had given him so he simply shrugged as he moved to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Foreman seemed to feel the need to get in on the act a bit. "You need a haircut, man. Either that or buy better gel."

"So says the bald guy," Chase countered.

"Hey!" Foreman protested. "I chose to be chrome. I do have hair. I just don't feel the need to display it."

Chase smirked at him. "Your point being?" he prompted, because keeping word play going with Foreman was a lot less stressful than letting House in on it.

But House wasn't about to be pushed out of the fun. "So, are you running from something or someone?" he prompted.

"I don't know what you mean," Chase replied, although he was surprised that House had decided to cut through the snark. He could feel the blue eyes focused on him with laser intensity and he had to resist the urge to squirm.

"You've been running around the hospital every day," House stated. "I haven't seen anyone chasing you." As he spoke he moved to get himself a cup of coffee, but making sure to ask who made it before he poured. Cameron glared at him when he said he was glad it wasn't hers.

Chase sat down at the conference table, eyes glued to the liquid in his mug. "I like to run," he said quietly. "It helps me think." And he said that knowing House would find reason to make fun of him. To taunt him with how little thinking he actually did and remind him he was nothing but a moron. Comments that Chase was familiar with. Taunts that were almost like caring. Almost.

But House didn't rise to the bait, instead he limped over to the table and set his mug down carefully. He then eyed Chase for a moment before moving to the white board. "New case," he said, then he picked up a marker and wrote down the symptoms.

An hour later Chase was running tests. He got the results and was heading back to House's office to deliver them when Cuddy intercepted him. "Did you need something?" Chase queried, being polite.

"It's been over a week since we last talked," she reminded him.

"I thought we were done with that." Chase felt irritation flare up. He didn't need to talk to her, never did. He thought she'd finally understood that.

Cuddy looked uncomfortable, but she locked eyes with him as she stated, "I think it would be a good idea to keep going with them for a while."

Chase wasn't interested in that and he was going to make that clear to her. "Why?" he shot back, seeing her surprised look. But he didn't give her a chance to reply before making his case. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" Another rhetorical question. "No one's complained about me. My life is back on track and I'm happy. Isn't that enough for you?"

"I just, I want to make sure you're okay," Cuddy replied, looking a bit uncertain.

"I'm okay," Chase said firmly. "I appreciate everything you've done to help me. Your support helped a lot." He was laying on the charm now, offering the smile that he knew very few could resist. Letting his boyishness show and he could see she was buying into it, letting herself be charmed.

Smiling back at him, Cuddy nodded. "All right, we'll let it go for now. But if you need to talk, my door is open anytime. Or call me if you need to."

Chase nodded. "Thank you," he replied, solemnly. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, I really need to deliver these test results to House." He held up the folder he was holding.

"Go on," Cuddy said, smirking. "Wouldn't want to keep House waiting." There was a sense of world suffering in her tone before she turned on her heel and clacked off down the hallway.

"No, wouldn't want to do that," Chase muttered to himself, before jogging towards the stairs.

OoO

The test results from all of them proved annoyingly inconclusive. So House had to guess at what the problem was and had them treating what they could. But the results were disastrous and the patient coded twice on them within an hour. Chase managed to get her stabilized, but he ended up staying in the room to keep an eye on her monitors and on her, looking for any minute reaction that signaled another possible code. He was hoping for some sign of improvement, but nothing was forthcoming.

House came by once, standing next to the patient's bed, eyes running over her and the monitors. He spouted some questions at Chase, nodded at the answers he got then limped off.

Cameron and Foreman came by at one point. Foreman offered to stay with the patient while Chase went with Cameron to grab some supper. He turned them down but did ask them to stick around for a moment while he ran outside to give Vanessa a call. She wasn't happy that he wouldn't be home tonight, yet she was strangely calm about it at the same time. Chase promised to be home as soon as he could then hung up.

He had just gotten back to the patient's room when she coded again. He snapped out orders to Cameron and Foreman as they worked smoothly together. But there was nothing he could do. The woman's heart shut down and Chase called the time of death.

When Foreman offered to tell the family, Chase brushed past him. "I'll do it," he said curtly, striding off down the hallway.

It was difficult delivering bad news. All the more so this time because the woman's family was big and all huddled together. They looked at him with hope shining in their eyes and Chase told them the bad news, watching hope fade to despair. Hearing the mother keening her denial, the sister and eldest daughter start weeping. The father walked away and the husband just glared at Chase.

"You let her die!" He screamed at him. "You're supposed to save her!"

"There was nothing we could do," Chase replied, his tone carefully modulated. He didn't look away from the other man's anger, knowing it wasn't really directed at him. And like clockwork the anger mutated into grief and the man reached for his young son and hugged him as he sobbed.

Chase turned and walked away. There was nothing more he could do now. He signed off on the paper work then headed for the locker room. He changed into sweats and was out the door and heading for the exit when Cameron cut him off.

"You okay?" she asked, her eyes bright with concern.

"I'm fine," Chase replied, wishing he could just shove past her. But she continued to block his way and when her hand touched his shoulder he flinched.

Cameron took her hand back and looked concerned. "You're awfully pale, Chase."

He locked eyes with her and repeated, "I'm fine. Patients die all the time." It was something an Intensivist had to get used too. He had accepted the reality of that a long time ago.

"I know that!" Cameron snapped, no doubt because her inability to deal with the aftermath of a patient's death was a sore spot for her. It was her Achilles' heel. Realizing her anger, Cameron huffed a calming breath, put on a smile and said, "It's just that you've been through a lot lately and after being ill-"

"I wasn't ill!" It was Chase's turn to snap, and regret it instantly. He scrubbed a hand over his face and apologized. "Sorry. Look, I'm a bit out of sorts is all. I'm gonna go run for a bit. I'm fine, really." He patted her shoulder to reassure her then brushed past her for the door.

Cameron followed him. "It's dark out, Chase. It's late and we're all tired. You should go home."

He wanted to argue with her but suddenly felt too worn out to bother. And since it was obvious she wasn't going to drop it, he nodded. "You're right, it's late." He gave her a tired smile and turned towards the elevators. "I'm gonna change then head out. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow." Cameron smiled, looking a bit hesitant, but then she turned and walked out the door.

The moment she was gone, Chase headed for the stairs. He wanted to run but he settled for hitting the stairwell for a few passes, then taking a long, hot, shower. He didn't have any more sets of clean clothes so he pulled on a set of scrubs then headed for the conference room. It was dark so he flipped on the lights. After a moment he went to the bookshelf in the corner and pulled down a heavy volume. He wasn't ready to go home so he sat down at the table, uncaring of what book he had, and started to read.

House found him there maybe two hours later. He limped over to the table and tugged the book away. "Go home," he stated, and his tone made it clear he meant it as an order.

"Soon," Chase replied, because he was off hours and House couldn't dictate everything in his life. He tried to get the book back but when House refused to give it up, Chase shrugged and stood up. He moved back to the bookshelf and took another volume down.

"Vanessa will wonder where you are and what you're doing," House said, as he cut Chase off from returning to the table and confiscated the new book from him.

Chase glared at him. "Not your concern." Keeping his tone even was hard. No one could get him riled up the way House could, yet Chase had perfected being non reactive. At least to a point. He had learned early on that House got tired of playing with you if you didn't respond accordingly.

Eyeing Chase through a narrowed gaze, House asked, "So how's it going with the old girl? Are their wedding bells in the future? You can ask Wilson for advice on that stuff."

"I'll let you know when it becomes any of your business," Chase drawled. He moved stiffly around House, feeling tense and uptight again. Feeling anxiety dancing under his skin, making him yearn to scratch until there were bloody grooves in his flesh. He went back to the bookcase and, pointedly, retrieved yet another volume." He got it all the way back to the table before House intervened.

"It wasn't your fault she died," he said softly.

Chase froze, feeling his heart thud hard against his chest. Panic flare through him like a flash flood, making him feel like he'd been caught out in some dirty little secret. But he made himself relax, made his expression neutral and his tone carefully modulated as he replied, "I know that."

House moved to stand in front of him, his stance confrontational. "Do you?" he prompted.

"Why are you still here?" Chase countered. He was good at deflection. Could have taught a course on it even. But House was never one to follow the rules. He kept invading Chase's personal space until he turned away and paced over to the windows.

"I like the atmosphere," House shot back, limping over to follow him.

Chase glared at him.

House smirked in return then said, "Go home, and don't come back until you get some sleep. You're dead on your feet and I doubt Cuddy would be happy with a zombie practicing medicine."

"I'm doing my job!" Chase snapped, because House had just stomped on his last nerve.

"You're going through the motions and getting lucky," House replied. "I don't want to see you back here for the next two days. Comprende?"

Chase thought about arguing but instead he simply whispered, "Si, senor," then turned and made his way out the door.

He went home. Vanessa was dead asleep so he changed into sweats and went for a run. He lost track of time but he was shaking with fatigue by the time he got back, every muscle in his body ached, but he welcomed the burn. Stumbling into the bathroom, Chase showered then he went to the kitchen for a bottle of gator aid. He chugged half of it down, along with a sleeping pill, then he crawled into bed. He slept without dreaming.

He was up at six am, wishing he had time for another run, but somehow doubting he'd actually get very far this morning. He felt stiff and sore, but got up anyway. He dressed for work, pressed a kiss to Vanessa's cheek, then headed out. By seven he had signed in for a NICU rotation and went straight to work.

How many hours passed, Chase didn't know, but suddenly House was there, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him out into the corridor. Chase pulled away, anger flaring. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, glaring at House.

"I told you to go home and stay there till you got some sleep!" House snapped back, and anger was burning in his blue eyes.

"I slept!" Chase shot back, then he turned sharply on his heel with the intention of heading back into the unit, but found himself hauled around and practically slammed into the wall. His shoulder bone hit hard and he winced, knowing he was going to have a bruise for that one.

House seemed unaware of having caused any pain as he leaned into Chase. "Go home!" he repeated, and the intensity in his voice was almost viable.

Chase held House's glare, shaking his head. "No," he said quietly. "I have work to do."

"Apparently you've forgotten that you work for me," House countered, not moving from his stance in front of Chase. "I'm your boss and I gave you a direct order. Go...home."

"Sorry, but I'm not working for you today," Chase replied, feeling a bit smug. "I'm working for Cuddy, she's short staffed, which means she knows I'm here so take it up with her!" He issued the challenge because he doubted House would bother.

But House never did anything expected of him. "Go home now or you're fired," he announced, and he was smiling when he said it.

Chase resisted the urge to throw a punch at House, thereby wiping away the smug little smirk. But he was still angry as he shot back, "You can't do that!"

"Sure I can," House drawled. "And we both know I will. You've worked so hard to keep your job, Chase. Is it worth losing over something so trivial as your own stupidity? Go home, get some sleep, come back in two days. Easy enough instructions."

"Why are you doing this?" Chase demanded. He was doing his job and it irritated him to know end that House was trying to control him over this.

House heaved a dramatic sigh, stepping back out of Chase's personal space and scrubbing a hand over his face. "Have you looked in the mirror lately, Goldilocks? You look like shit warmed over, which is saying something because you're usually such a pretty little thing and all."

Chase gritted his teeth against replying, but it came out anyway. "God, you're such a bastard!"

"Amen, brother," House replied, a cold smile curving his thin lips. "Here's the thing. You can read those journals you were so enamored with last night, or bury yourself here with a bunch of sick babies. You can try to do penance by sleeping with a drunk woman old enough to be your mother, but you can't change the past. And you won't find the answers to any of your questions by looking for them in all the wrong places."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Chase snarled, and he felt sick and shaken all of a sudden, because House was talking about things he didn't know about. Things he couldn't know about. He was crossing the line again and it terrified Chase.

House looked almost sorry, almost, but his tone was gruff as he repeated, "Go home."

Chase felt desperate, almost willing to clutch at House's arm and plead with him. Or go down on bended knee and beg. Instead he stood stiffly and countered, "Cuddy needs me here."

"I'll smooth things over with her," House replied, in a manner that suggested he had already done so. "Go home." The tone of his words left no room for argument.

So Chase did what he always did. Which was whatever House told him to do. He yanked off the paper gown he was wearing, shoving it into a nearby bin before walking away. By the time he reached his locker he was shaking. He needed to go for a run. So he grabbed his things, not bothering to change out of his scrubs, and headed for home.

OoO

Surprisingly, Vanessa was gone when he got home. She had left him a note stating that she had decided to give the people in her office something to laugh about, by watching her try to maneuver about on the crutches Chase had gotten her a few days ago. Crutches she had been disinclined to use. Chase realized she must have finally gotten bored at home. Vanessa did so love to be entertained, and she needed people around her to do that.

He was glad to be alone. Since he would only have to change out of them anyway and they were comfortable enough, Chase kept his scrubs on to go for his run. He didn't go nearly as far as he had intended. Maybe House was right and he was exhausted. The fact that he had stumbled twice and nearly fallen during his run was somewhat of a clue. So he went home, showered, ate a slice of toast and half a banana then took two sleeping pills with some gator aid. As tired as Chase's body was, his mind was refusing to shut down and he knew if he didn't sleep deeply, then he would dream.

Maybe part of the reason he had stumbled so often on his run was the fact that his mind was filled with memories he wished he could simply delete from his brain. Too many images of patients who had died. The image of his mother lying in her coffin. The memory of his father the last time Chase had seen him. That still haunted him. The fact that his own father hadn't felt Chase deserved to know he was dying. That he had cared so little he'd left it up to his second wife to call Chase and deliver the news as if she were inviting him to a party or something. He felt the sting of guilt for not having gone to the funeral, but since his father hadn't cared about anything Chase did while he was alive, he figured his father wouldn't have cared if he bothered to show up at his funeral.

Scrubbing at his forehead, wanting to ease the relentless ache that pounded there, Chase headed for bed. He had pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and slid under the covers and closed his eyes. He counted backwards in his head until the pills took effect, then he drifted off to oblivion.

He had a peripheral awareness of movement and sound at times. Vanessa's voice in his ear and soft hands moving over his face. He wasn't sure if he responded to it or not and let himself remain cocooned in the warm darkness of slumber. He came awake due to the need to pee and after relieving himself he glanced at his watch. Fourteen hours had passed. It was barely 3am and Vanessa was asleep in the bed so Chase pulled on sweats and went for a run. He felt energized by the time he returned, his focus sharpened again. He showered, had a slice of toast and a glass of orange juice and when he came back into the bedroom, Vanessa was awake. He moved to sit beside her.

"What time is it?" she asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Early," Chase replied. "You should go back to sleep."

Vanessa pulled him down for a kiss." I tried to wake you last night but you were dead to the world. Are you feeling okay, Robbie?"

He nipped at her lower lip then nodded. "I'm fine. I was just a bit tired is all, but I think I made up for it last night."

"I found the pills you've been taking," Vanessa blurted out. "You didn't use to need them."

"I just have a lot on my mind of late, it's nothing to worry about," he assured her. "So, how's the ankle doing?" As he spoke he pushed the covers back and did a check for himself. He was glad when she let it distract her.

Wincing a bit, Vanessa replied, "It's better. Still sore but...better." She whimpered in a different way when he kissed the arch of her good foot. "I'm not feeling all that sleepy all of a sudden," she purred.

Chase let her pull him down with her. He made love to her then left her sleeping while he showered again and got dressed for work. But to cover himself he called House, telling him how he'd slept for fourteen hours and he was good to come back to work. House told him no and hung up on him. Chase debated going in anyway but decided it wasn't worth the risk. He didn't want to lose his job and House was just enough of an asshole to fire him on principle.

Since there was nothing else to do, and he felt his rush of before deflating and leaving him feeling a bit lethargic, Chase got undressed and crawled into bed. He never heard Vanessa's alarm go off. Never felt her kiss him goodbye as she went off to work. He slept another ten hours, woke up from a nightmare about his father dying in front of him at PPTH, then flew into the bathroom to retch.

He felt shaky and anxious and his head was aching. He knew what he needed to do to feel better. After brushing his teeth he went for a run. It woke him up, especially since he pushed himself hard. After a shower and some toast and fruit, Chase popped in a movie and amused himself until Vanessa returned. They had dinner, made love and went to bed. Once she was asleep he got up for a run, took his shower, drank some gator aid and decided to forgo the sleeping pill. He spent the next few hours watching mindless cartoons on TV, until drifting off to sleep about 2am. He slept in a bit too long and had to shorten his run to little more than a sprint around the block, but he felt good as he kissed Vanessa goodbye and headed off to work.

The first person Chase ran into at the Hospital was Cuddy. She called to him and he plastered a smile on his face as he turned to greet her. "Good morning," Chase said, making pleasantries.

"Good morning, are you feeling better?" Cuddy queried, her eyes roving over him.

"I'm feeling fine," Chase replied, then it hit him why she asked. "House told you I was sick?"

Cuddy made a face, like someone who'd gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "He just said you were under the weather a bit and he made you take some time off. For House to do that I figured you had to be pretty sick."

Chase shook his head, anger flaring up but he squelched it. It wasn't Cuddy he was pissed at anyway. "I was a bit tired, that's all."

"Well good." Cuddy seemed ready to accept him at his word. She thrust a file at him. "Take this to House, would you? New case." With that she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Sure," Chase muttered, even though she was already out of ear shot. He headed for the stairs and made a pit stop at the locker room to drop off his things. Then he went to the conference room and, as always, he was the first one in. Chase made coffee, making it strong but not overly so in deference to Cameron, who was the only one who would complain about it. Then he settled into a chair and read the file. By the time House came in with Foreman and Cameron trailing behind him, Chase had the patient's symptoms written on the whiteboard and was settled back in his chair enjoying his coffee.

House, of course, was the first to notice the whiteboard. His eyes then fell on the blue file folder, then they lifted to focus on Chase. "Trying to score points with the teacher?" he taunted.

Chase shrugged. "Just doing my job." He said nothing more as House studied him and Chase knew what he was looking for. Signs of exhaustion or other symptoms he could use against him. Only there were none and Chase took satisfaction in that fact. Enough so to offer House a smug grin.

"Sounds like a plan," House finally conceded. He limped over to the counter and poured himself some coffee, then he moved to the whiteboard and studied it. He then fired questions at Chase, about the patient's age and familial relations and prior sicknesses and such, all of which Chase replied to without hesitation.

They left Foreman and Cameron scrambling to catch up. By which time House was already asking for possible diagnosis and Chase already had a handful in mind. He felt on top of his game today and he was willing to challenge House in a way he normally wouldn't have. He knew House was aware of what he was doing and, oddly enough, he seemed to accept it.

After a time House sent them each off to run various tests. Chase headed out the door, Cameron catching up to him and asking how he was doing. Chase found the patience to tell her he was fine, and thanked her for asking, which served in his favor because it got her off his back. Now he was beginning to understand just how to play the game, and he was determined to play to win.

OoO

After his ducklings had left, House headed for Wilson's office. He didn't bother knocking on the door, and grinned when Wilson looked up at him, glaring in annoyance. "What?" House stated. "It's not like your busy or anything." He closed the door behind him then limped over to the closest chair and sat down.

Wilson set aside the book he had been reading. "Did you want something in particular or is this just a limp by hassle?"

"Lame," House replied to Wilson's attempt at humor. "I'm actually here to pick your brain. More or less."

"Is this about a case?" Wilson prompted.

House made a face. "Not exactly." He never had been one for going into detail. Instead he thumped his cane on the floor for dramatic effect then asked, "So how do you think Chase is doing?"

Wilson looked surprised. "He seems fine, why? Is something wrong?"

"I'm asking you," House pointed out, feeling a bit irritated. He hated it when Wilson didn't keep up with him.

"I wouldn't know," Wilson replied. "We haven't talked in a while."

House was surprised to hear that. "Had a falling out, did you?"

With an eye roll that nearly popped them out of their sockets, Wilson deadpanned, "We broke up."

"I'm being serious here," House countered, because he was, although he hoped he wasn't giving too much away. Chase was his concern only so far in that he worked for him and he needed his fellows to be on top of their game. House believed that Chase could be a brilliant doctor some day, maybe even follow in his own footsteps so to speak. If only he could learn to focus and to apply himself to his work. But that wasn't his concern at the moment exactly. So he focused back on Wilson. Who was watching House a bit too intently.

"Obviously you think something is wrong with him," Wilson countered. "Is it affecting his work?"

House sighed. "You see, that's the thing. He's become more focused lately. Very intense in fact. Almost...driven."

Wilson frowned, looking confused. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No, and if we were talking about someone other than Chase I'd be all happy and giddy," House shot back. He pushed up to his feet and began to pace, feeling disgruntled. He had asked a simple question and he wanted Wilson to give him a simple answer.

"Have you talked to him?" Wilson asked. "You know...asked him about it? Just a suggestion," he added, hiding a bit of a smirk when House turned and glared at him.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, House moved to confront his friend. "Talking to him would be cheating." He had more to say but his pager went off. It was Cameron calling him to the labs. Which meant it was time to focus on the patient. House reminded himself that Chase was a big boy and could take care of himself anyway. But he was muttering to himself as he headed out the door.

OoO

It was a long day, but a mostly satisfying one for Chase. They had been too busy with the patient for him to take a run at lunch and he was feeling a bit jittery as he collected his things. On the way out he did an about face for the stairs so he could avoid Cameron, and his path took him past the Chapel.

Chase paused, staring through the doorway at the people scattered about inside. Lost souls, seeking God's forgiveness for whatever sins they perceived they had committed. And mixed in were the faithful who believed that a simple prayer might save those they loved and were afraid to lose. He both envied them and hated them.

Without meaning too, Chase found himself standing inside the doorway. But he didn't belong here, he never had. Backpedaling out, he felt panic flare inside him and he quelled it as best he could. His pager went off, making him jump a bit, and he was almost relieved that it was Vanessa.

Turning his back on the Chapel, Chase walked away. Heading back to where he belonged.

THE END...of part 7