Authors Notes: Okay it's Saturday so here is the last chapter just like I promised. Thank you all so much for your reviews you guys are great ……………..

enjoy the last chapter : )

Disclaimer: I am running out of interesting things to say in my disclaimer so I'll just get right to the point. I don't own House…

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Foreman entered the conference room closely followed by House who was carrying Chase on his shoulder. Cameron was waiting in there patiently. She had pulled three chairs together and placed a pillow at one end. She was sitting on the table holding a blanket.

House practically threw Chase down on the chairs and then went over to the coffee maker. Cameron adjusted the pillow so it was lying under Chase's head and then she lay the blanket on top of him. "Are you sure we shouldn't get hi in a room or anything," she asked Foreman.

"Yeah," Foreman replied placing Chase's messenger bag on the ground. "He'll be fine in here. I mean come on Cameron just think of how embarrassed Chase would be if he woke up in a bed with a hospital gown on in front of his colleagues after he overdosed on medication probably for a stupid reason. Trust me," Foreman said, "he'll be much happier waking up in here."

Cameron rolled her eyes but said nothing realizing that Foreman had a point. She took a small bottle containing a grayish liquid. "Liquid charcoal," she told Foreman. "If he's overdosed it's probably best we give it to him." Liquid charcoal is used in patients that have ingested too much of one certain pill toxin or medication. It helped to in a way dissolve it.

Foreman agreed and helped tilt Chase's head back and open his mouth while Cameron poured the gross tasting liquid down his throat. Foreman then held Chase's head straight up and closed his mouth to be sure that he had swallowed it. When Foreman was sure that all of the liquid had been safely swallowed by Chase he laid his back down on the pillow.

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It was two hours later and Chase began to stir. Foreman was the only one in the room. Cameron and House were in the patient's room. Cameron was attempting to start the patient on the Lupus treatment since his ANA had been positive. House was in there attempting to stop Cameron from giving the patient the Lupus treatment. He really did not want it to be Lupus. He didn't want the Lupus treatment to help. "It's never been Lupus before," House had complained, "so it can't be Lupus now."

Foreman went over to Chase as he began to open his eyes. Chase pushed himself up on his elbows so he was in a sitting position. He stared at Foreman and blinked a few times. Foreman went over to Chase's messenger bag and got twenty-five mg. of both of his epilepsy drugs, went over to the sink and filled a glass with water, and then brought both things back to Chase. "Take these," Foreman said, holding the pills out to Chase.

Chase stared at the pills for a moment then he took them from Foreman and swallowed each one with a sip of water. "W-w- where did you get these," he stuttered.

"Your apartment," Foreman replied carefully.

Chase was shocked. He looked around for a solid minute and then he realized that he was in the conference room. "How'd I get here?" He asked.

Foreman told Chase the whole story from House asking Cameron to go down to the clinic and get him. By the time Foreman had finished Chase seemed much less confused and much more awake and alert. He was sitting up straight in one of the chairs. Foreman was right in front of him sitting on the table.

"So…" said Foreman, "were not sure what triggered your seizure but we took care of the overdose with liquid charcoal."

"That would explain the awful taste in my mouth," said Chase giving a very shy smile.

Foreman got up and poured Chase another glass of water from the sink. "Thanks," Chase said when he brought it to him. Foreman sat back down.

Foreman was just as curious about Chase as House was so he just couldn't help himself from asking. "Chase," he asked, "what was going on today? Why were you acting so strange? Why did you sneak out of work and why did you overdose on Prozac?" Foreman expected Chase to tell him to shut up or something. But surprisingly Chase began to speak almost as if he had wanted Foreman to ask.

"I left work so I could go to my apartment and overdose on Prozac," Chase began, "and I overdosed on Prozac because I knew it would make me feel better. I knew it put me to sleep and I knew it would get rid of the memory."

"What memory," Foreman asked.

Chase took a deep breath. "The memory that triggered my seizure," he said.

Foreman thought about it going into full neurologist mode for several minutes. "A memory triggering an epileptic seizure, that's incredibly rare Chase," said Foreman. "I mean in order for that to happen all of your epileptic seizures must have been in your temporal lobe, which is a very rare place for seizures to happen. And," Foreman continued, "The memory that triggered this seizure must have been a memory that happened during a seizure."

"I know," said Chase slowly.

"Are you going to tell me what this memory is," Foreman asked.

Chase buried his head in his hand for several minutes; he slowly lifted it up and replied, "Yes."

Chase began to tell Foreman his darkest memory which he had relived on his living couch that morning.

When Chase got to his first seizure, where he sub-consciously shot his mother Foreman noticed him blinking back tears.

"Chase," Foreman replied, "it wasn't your fault and you know that. You had no control over what you were doing." Foreman changed his tone of voice. "When one has a seizure in their temporal they have no control over their actions. Chase you couldn't control it, it wasn't your fault."

"I know," Chase sobbed miserably. "But the worst part," he said, "is that I didn't even know I killed her. I was just sitting there holding her hand, thinking that someone had broken in and killed her. But no," said Chase, "the whole time, it was me. And I found that out from some doctors at a hospital. The told me that I had epilepsy. I had had a series of temporal lobe seizures which caused me to loose control of my actions and my muscle movements. They said I had shot my mother during the sub-conscious stage of a seizure. I asked them to prove it," said Chase, "and they said there was no way that they could."

Angry tears were coming out of Chase's eyes at this point.

"Chase," Foreman said sternly, "don't even think that. Don't even think that for one minute. You know very well that you didn't kill your mother on purpose."

"Maybe I did," cried Chase. "I told her I wouldn't help her. I told her destroying herself was her choice, I told her…"

"Chase look at me," said Foreman, "you didn't."

Chase began to cry hysterically. His head was down his shoulders were shaking. But soon his crying became labored breathing then gentle sobs and slowly it hushed into silence. Chase looked up at Foreman, "I know," he said. "You're right."

Chase calmed down and he began to talk to Foreman again, "the patient that I saw today at the clinic…"

"…he brought the memory back into your mind." Foreman finished for him.

Chase nodded. "It made me so confused and scared and dizzy and…"

"That's why you ran out of the clinic and fell down in the hallway." Foreman finished for him again.

Chase nodded again. "Where are Cameron and House?" He asked.

"With the patient," Foreman answered.

"Is he okay?" Chase asked.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Foreman replied, "he has Lupus."

"Seriously," asked Chase, his eyes widened.

"Yeah, I know," said Foreman, "it threw us all for a loop too. Especially House, he's not taking it to well." He stifled a small laugh.

Chase gave a small giggle too.

"You know Chase," said Foreman, "psychotherapy might help you come to terms with your memory. You might be able to think about it without having it cause depression or a seizure. You might be able to think about it and live with it, be okay with it."

"I don't want to see a psychotherapist," Chase said flatly.

"I took some classes on psychotherapy in collage," said Foreman. "We could try it sometime… if you want," he said.

Chase thought about it hard and then moved his head up and down in a slow nod.

Foreman's pager went off. He looked at it, "sorry Chase," he said. "I have to go the patient is going psychotic."

"Symptom of Lupus," Chase smiled.

"You should probably stay here for a little while," said Foreman, "I'll be right back."

Foreman had just walked out of the door when Chase decided that he needed to tell him something. "Foreman wait!" He yelled. Foreman stopped in his tracks. Chase ran out the door. "I just wanted to say thank you," said Chase. "Thank you for talking with me. I feel much better about things."

Foreman gave a slight smile, "anytime," he said. "Anytime."

The End

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Authors Notes: There how'd ya like it a nice happy, sappy ending to the chappie : )

I know the Chase Foreman stuff was kind of weird but I wanted it to be different, so please tell me what you think of that…

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing my fic, I really appreciate it

Review………………………..??????? pretty pretty please : )