Chase grabbed his forehead with his right hand and started to rub his temples. His other hand clutched onto his aching chest. He was having a hard time grasping what was happening to him.
"Hell huh? You actually think I'm going to believe that the hospital chapel is the place of eternal damnation? You being here with me though makes the argument plausible. "
House laughed at the young doctor's denial. "Do I have to draw you a map? How about a clever sports analogy? No, what am I thinking? You were always the dumb one. I have to clearly spell it out. Define hell for me."
"It is where one is separated forever from God and sent to a place of pain and suffering." Chase had to stop there. He started to experience the sharp stabs of pain again. He held onto his chest with both hands and doubled over.
"Come on, you have to want it." House paused but realized Chase was in too much pain to humor him. "Okay, I'll tell you if I must. You have always avoided this chapel. This is the place where you chose to defiantly separate yourself from God. If you think about it, you chose the place of your ultimate pain and suffering."
"Why are you here then?" Chase asked the question with a gruff voice wincing from his great pain. "The chapel never caused you any pain."
"Hell is loaded with demons that torment the damned. Who torments better than me?"
Chase let out a small laugh. "I should have known. It all makes sense now. You always got huge pleasure in making my life hell while I was living. Why should death be any different?"
"I see you have accepted your demise. That should tell you that this is very real." House walked over to the struggling Chase and looked at him square with his condemning blue eyes. "I'm the least of your worries wombat. You made the judgment so easy. You rejected the grace and mercy of your God. You didn't allow yourself to be relieved of sin through confession. Both of those actions have pretty much denied you access into the kingdom of God. You are all mine now."
Chase didn't have the will to argue. He felt defeated. He only let out moans over the sharp jabs inflicting his chest. He thought to ask for mercy, but he knew there would be none here. He couldn't explain why, he just knew.
House continued to taunt. "Tell me, do you feel the presence of your God? Or do you feel coldness and emptiness surround you like a blanket? What little comfort you did feel from his presence is gone now, isn't it? You were raised Catholic, you knew hell was real."
"I didn't know what was real." Chase replied wincing in pain.
"Aw, you threw away your eternal soul just because mommy and daddy didn't love you. Boo Hoo. I guess it's all good for me."
Chase tenderly got up. He couldn't take anymore. It could be House, it could be the devil, it could be a demon, but he had enough badgering. He walked over to the back doors, but quickly found there were no back doors. He looked all around and didn't find any doors.
"You also can't run away this time either. You're going to have to accept your punishment."
"So I get to sit here and listen to you berate me for an eternity? I tuned you out when I was alive, I can do it while I'm dead." Chase delicately descended back into his seat.
"While I completely relish that very idea, sadly I'm just the welcome wagon. No, your fate is far worse. You get to sit alone in here forever being constantly reminded how you shunned your God. You get to wallow in your misery and self pity with no hope ever of distraction or relief. You won't ever see me again, and you won't have your God to save you. You get in the end what you always wanted; to be left alone."
House walked over to an agonizing Chase. He picked up his cane and pushed the end directly onto Chase's wound. Chase screamed. "This is the best part. That never heals. After a while you will adjust to the pain and grow completely numb. All meaning will be lost."
House broke out into uproarious evil laughter that lasted a good while. The sound burned into Chase's ears causing him even more agony. Then, in a flash, the laughter was gone. So was House.
The sudden emptiness consumed Chase. Was House actually telling him the truth? Was he actually a condemned man?
Both the physical and emotional pain proved to be too overwhelming for him to tolerate any longer. He let a few tears slip down his cheek before he gave into the hurt and lost consciousness.
---------------
Everyone was still assembled in the observation room. The surgery was 12 hours old and despite the fatigue and likelihood that there was other work to do, no one wanted to leave. Cuddy had joined them now making the room rather crowded. Each one of the five highly skilled doctors that occupied the room were too panicked to say a word.
House leaned against the glass, intently watching every bit of the surgery. He was the only one really paying attention. He watched the heart specialist step away from Chase, put down his instruments and walk over to the observation window. He pointed at House and motioned him for the door. House quickly left, startling those that were not aware of what was happening.
After a few minutes House stuck his head through the room entrance. "Dr. Cuddy, a word?" Cuddy left quickly and now those that remained knew something was wrong. Cameron, Foreman, and Wilson all shared glances of an inquisitive nature then quickly emptied out of the room as well.
In the hallway they all noticed Cuddy racing away. The specialist headed in the other direction toward House's office. "What's wrong?" an alarmed Cameron asked.
"The right ventricle is badly damaged. Far worse than he thought. The surgical team is taking a breather to evaluate all options. Cuddy has gone to see if there is a heart available for emergency transplant."
Cameron and Foreman stood in their tracks stunned. Just the mere fact that Chase was not clinically dead yet had given them hope. They weren't prepared for such a set back. Foreman decided to ask the obvious question. "Since the likelihood is there isn't one available, what are the options?"
"He has to repair the damage. He is calling his team to review alternate procedures. He needs to research doing a muscle graft with some thigh muscle. That procedure is still highly experimental with the heart and he isn't sure if it will work given the damage. I need you and Cameron to go back to the office and offer any assistance you can. I'm sure he'll welcome the help."
"What are you going to do?" Cameron asked House
"Chase in on a table with his chest cut open. Someone needs to be there to make sure he doesn't follow the bright light while we weren't looking. This is normally a job for an intensivist. Anyone know a good one of those?"
Cameron, Wilson and Foreman all silently acknowledged his point. "Great, we'll regroup in an hour to see where we stand. Coming James?"
Wilson took that to mean House didn't want to be alone in the operating room. "Yep," he said and followed behind.
-------------------
Chase didn't want to wake up this time. He kept his eyes closed tight because he didn't want to see. The coldness, the terror, it felt all too real. How did this happen to him? So, he had a crisis of faith. He never stopped believing. How did he become separated from God like this? How did he die like this?
This discomfort in his chest eventually got to be too much. He had to get up and move around. Maybe that would help with the pain. He opened his eyes and looked at his chest while sitting up. Nothing had changed. Blood was all along his side.
Something was different though. Chase turned to the back and found the doors to the chapel were wide open. He looked through the opening and while he was compelled see what was beyond the chapel, he was terrified at the same time. The coldness in the air indicated that whatever was out there could not be good. Staying in the chapel wasn't helping either, so he slowly got up and eased toward the doors.
He stuck his head out into the hallway and looked side to side. The halls were dark and devoid of any signs of human life. Chase stepped out and carefully proceeded through the hall. He looked at his chest and noticed the wound was smaller.
With each small apprehensive step he took, the terror inside him grew deeper and deeper, yet his wound grew smaller and smaller. What was happening here? Was he really dead now and his fate fully determined? Was this a possible a test of faith to see how he would react when separated from the Holy Spirit? Was this all just a dream? He didn't know and had no way of finding out.
Despite the fear Chase had to go on. He eventually found himself outside of diagnostics. He strolled into the lifeless room where everything was eerily quiet and devoid of activity. This room always provided satisfaction and joy before, but now it like everything else symbolized emptiness. In front of him was the blank white board. The board could not be used for healing anymore.
Chase looked all around the room for any signs of comfort and familiarity. He found nothing. His eyes again fixed on the white board, but this time there was a lone word scrawled on it. The horror inside Chase spiked quickly and he shot out of the room, breathing heavily from intense fright. The word was familiar to him. Death.
Chase moved as far away from diagnostics as possible. He looked at his chest. The wound was just a small dot now. He wandered around the empty hospital in a total blur, uncertain as to where he was going or what he needed to do.
As he approached another area, he felt dizzy and grabbed the desk in the center of the room. Deep terror struck him hard when he became painfully aware of where he was. He was standing in the middle of the clinic lobby, right where he was shot. He looked his chest and started feeling around in amazement. The bullet wound was completely gone. He tried to remember what had happened, but honestly couldn't. He had no memory of a shooting at all. He wasn't sure now if one actually occurred.
As he stood there pondering, he heard a loud click. His head instantly and fearfully turned toward the direction of the noise. He saw a woman, black and grey disheveled hair, rumpled clothes, swaying back and forth, pointing a loaded gun at him.
Chase was frozen in fear. "No, please," he begged to the woman. He didn't even want to consider why he was fearful of dying when he was likely already dead.
The woman didn't take time to consider his plea. She fired without hesitation. Chase felt the direct hit in his heart and suddenly remembered what had happened before. All the pain and horror overcame him in a flash. His memory only lasted a split second though as he hit the floor and everything went black.