Chapter 7: Trust
Heading back into the diagnostics lounge, Chase knew it was going to be difficult. Obviously, it wasn't the only wasn't the only upcoming challenge he had to face: Pip's insecurity, and never actually talking to him about it. His insecurity, wondering how long to stay at work when he started to show, House's taunts, awkward moments with his colleagues. The thoughts of nurses smothering him, finding out and telling anybody who'd listen, startling physical changes, becoming a parent AND not even knowing if it was Pip's baby, he wondered if he should save the ER any hassle and have the paddles used now.
The main problem, currently, was walking through that glass door. If House hadn't told them already, they were going to begin to ask questions about the weight he'd been gaining, suddenly feeling hungry all the time, whatever happened to him. But having to walk in that door was going to be tough. Convincing himself that it was beginning to look odd just standing there in the hall, Chase started to let his feet move again, and enter the room.
The other ducklings had been listening to a quirky anecdote from Idnax. Nobody but her really remembered what it had been about now; only it had involved her childhood in Wales, an apple tree and somebody thinking it was the end of the world. It was fair that they couldn't remember it much about it; their eldest colleague had come back into the office after eight days away from work. Not only that, all were still freaking out privately about having a pregnant work mate coming back.
So when Chase entered the room again, the other ducklings were thinking of a million different questions to ask, while he thought of a million different answers to reply with. Idnax asked the most obvious one first.
"Well, how's our wombat? Er, more correctly, how are both our wombats?" she asked, before deciding that she shouldn't have opened her mouth and clamped it shut again.
He laughed warmly at the question. Thank God it wasn't about Pip.
"I'm feeling better than last time you saw me. I stopped vomiting a couple of days ago, and I'm not having any more headaches either."
"May we ask how far along you are? Cuddy called in a minute ago; she doesn't want too many people finding out about this." Foreman mentioned.
Chase laughed again, "According to Wilson, I'm around fourteen weeks. Baby's due some time in the middle of November."
"This must be thrilling for you. Is Pip alright at the moment?" Cameron asked politely as possible.
Shrugging, Chase went to sit down in his usual seat. "Ah, well. I'm not as ecstatically joyful as one of your average clinic patients, but we are pretty happy, if not freaked out still, at what's happened."
"You'll regret that, bud. In a few months we'll be puttin' up with back pain, piles, having cravings of Jell-O and anchovy pies…" Racknell stopped in her tracks when she saw the look on Chase's scared face. She knew by that look that she had gone too far, again.
"Oops. Sorry, my mom got pregnant when I was fourteen. Dad had a lot of fun out of a daughter with PMS and a wife with a baby in the works." She explained, before shutting up too.
"Well, as long as we don't have to eat fish and relish sandwiches with you, I'm gonna be fine with this." Foreman said.
Smiling and nodding in recognition, Chase tried to see if there was anything to do. Caseless once again, everyone was wondering when nobody had thought of bringing something to do. However, even after a few minutes silence, Idnax pointed out something to comment about:
"Chase, you skin's looking as peachy as you are!"
He frowned in confusion, "Huh? What do you mean?"
"Well, since last time I saw you, I swear your face is a whole lot more…radiant."
The others smirked and giggled, while Chase was busy turning a bright pink. Foreman looked at him, chuckling. "She's right, Chase. You're glowing like a lantern."
"Good news for you Racknell; this probably means Chase's endorphins are kicking in. We won't hear any complaints for a while." Cameron said, smiling.
"Even better news, we have a new case!" someone oh-so-familiar to them bellowed.
"Oh, bring it on." Racknell sarcastically replied.
House began to rattle off the details like a news reporter, "Two-year-old female is having unexplained foot twitches, immobility in her left hand and not talking. That's the weird part: Since when do two-year-olds shut up?"
"Neurological problem for sure. Got any ideas Foreman?" Idnax quietly mused, while turning her head to the black doctor.
"I say she's got something wrong with the right side of her brain. We'll need a CT scan to be sure about it."
"Right then! If it is her brain shutting down, we're definitely going to need a CT scan. However, if it's just muscles screwing up, we'll need an MRI too. Patient history would be good too. So, I suggest to you, this: Foreman, you scare two-year-olds away far too much, so do the CT scan with Idnax. Racknell, if you can see a keyboard below your chest, then do the MRI with Cameron, but go and draw cultures for anything liquidly possible to test."
All the ducklings with jobs got up from where they were sitting and headed their various ways. House hobbled over to his desk, and then when he sat down to begin playing Minesweeper; he noticed the one duckling he'd forgotten about. Chase was sitting quietly at the glass table, fiddling with the button of his shirt closet to his belly button.
"Aw, don't take rejection so seriously. I only did that because you're wearing that shirt."
The wombat looked up from the other side of the table. "What's that got to do with not having anything to do?"
"Well, let's start with the shirt. Terrible colour to go with that tie, but it's got really nice buttons. Fiddling with the sixth button from the bottom means you find that the most fascinating one or you're more concerned about what's underneath the shirt, or more correctly, your navel. Should you continue to fiddle with that button, you might screw up the MRI, patient history, or another angiogram. Wait a minute, there's something you could do!"
"And that would be…?"
"Three hours left of my clinic duty. Scram."
--
Nobody had really said what bar they'd end up at after work, but they'd all just wound up at Pop.Cul. One of the trendier bars in the area. The kind that had pink, purple and orange lights, square seats, and a variety of cocktails that would have appealed even to sixty-year-olds, naturally who found the whole venue a disgrace to Princeton.
The ducklings had come to the place because the two-year-old girl's case was proving more difficult than just brain damage. Also because some interns in the hall had been cheeky to Cameron and Racknell about their "squareness" and not daring to go even near a bar like where they were now.
"Dear Gregory House. I loathe your stinking' guts for knowing that a two-year-old was going to throw up on me today!" Idnax cried, obviously tipsy while giving her little speech.
Foreman chuckled at her. Now he understood why she got uneasy when they'd gone through tox screens together. Even now, she was giving him distorted winks from her place between Racknell and Pip, who had come along to everyone's insistence that they meet the supposed mother-to-be.
"Well, TGIF indeed." Racknell smiled. She wasn't as bad as Idnax was, but she definitely was some form of drunk too. "Chase, it's not gonna kill you if you have one sip of that beer."
"Yeah, come on! Not even Cameron's being that evasive with us, and she's driving us home. Come on, are we really that boring for you?"
Looking over at her, then at the untouched bottle which he had ordered, Chase bit his lip. Alcohol had never really been that inviting, not after seeing somebody die from it.
"No, I'm fine. And I am having fun." He said defensively.
"Hey, hey. Look, Robbie; the baby's not gonna be pleased if daddy's in a fluster." Pip cooed, leaning her head on his shoulder in a protective way. Like the other tipsy two, Pip was on the verge of it, as the two empty vodka shots on the table indicated. She didn't seem to care now as she pulled her arm around his waist, giggling at nothing particular.
"Um, guys? I'm a little tired, and Pip's looking a lot tipsy. I think we're going home." Chase said, helping Pip to her feet and taking her car's keys.
"Aw, wombat! Oh, fine. Foreman, you're takin' me home, wether you like it or not." Idnax whined.
"Sorry, Id, but you've got to go home now." Foreman said while helping the drunken Welsh to her feet as well.
Racknell looked over at Cameron. " Well, I'm not being asked to be swept off my feet, but can you drive?"
"Sure." Cameron said, as the two walked away.
And just as quickly as they had gathered, the group quickly parted as well.
A/N: Gah, this seems like such a filler chapter now! Ah, well. Romantic fluff at twelve o'clock next chapter. Oh, and I like them reviews. They are nice reviews.