A/N: Welcome back. Thank you all so much for the reviews! They make me smile and laugh like an idiot. Also, some of you may be wondering about the title's abstractness. It's derived from the lyrics of a Jimmy Eat World song: I'm not alone 'cause the tv's on. I'm not crazy 'cause I take the right pills every day. Salt, sweat - sugar on the asphalt. Our hearts, littering the top soil. It's also, metaphorically, snow. Normally, when I think of a title, it hits me like a slap in the face and it won't be denied its rightful place as the story's embodiment. On that note, please enjoy chapter two of Sugar On The Asphalt.
p.s. Who can tell me what the hidden joke was in chapter one? Hint: Cartoon comments.
I'm ranting while I'm raving
There's nothing here worth saving
Tell me now - what more do you need?
Take me to Walter Reed tonight
Baby, I've lost the will for fighting
Over everything...
"I h-hate you," an accented voice stated in exhausted vehemence.
"Good, it'll make your death easier to g-get over."
Chase rolled his head in the direction of his boss lazily.
"I'm not going to die."
"You will after I s-strangle the life out of you."
The Aussie snorted and winced. His back was against the side of the car, but he was slumped so far down that only his shoulders and head were supported. Both men were sitting in a shallow puddle of frigid water, shivers beginning to throw off their speech as hypothermia set in. Chase gave his boss a lopsided grin.
"You don't h-have it in you."
House glared at the blonde through narrowed eyes.
"Don't push me. Who t-taught you how to drive, an-anyways?"
Chase shrugged halfheartedly.
"R-right side of the road, left s-side of the road…it's all botched. N-not my fault."
"You d-drove us off a cliff. Into a lake. In the middle of January."
The Intensivist frowned at his superior.
"Maybe if someone hadn't b-been distracting me - or better y-yet - if I hadn't been trying to take you home in the first place, we'd both be in bed, perfectly…"
The Aussie trailed off and House smiled wickedly.
"Perfectly what?"
He turned to catch the blush that was no doubt making its way across his duckling's face but was met with closed eyes, limp body slowly sliding down the side of the car.
"Chase!" House gripped the Aussie's shoulders, shaking him roughly. The blonde's eyes opened and he started, sending water droplets into the air while pushing himself up out of the freezing puddle.
House glared at him, eyes shaded with intensity.
"You fall asleep, you die."
Chase nodded numbly, shaking his head to wake himself up and folding his arms over his chest, grimacing as his ribs protested the movement.
"You don't have t-to scare me into staying awake, House. I know h-how hypothermia works."
"And yet, you st-still manage to fall asleep. Congratulations. You're in a class all your own when it comes to b-blatant disregard to your own health."
Chase sent him a tired smile.
"I aim to please."
House rolled his eyes and tried not to think about how true that statement was when it came to his youngest fellow. The kid was the embodiment of what it meant to be a people pleaser.
"I wonder how long it'll t-take for them to find us," the blonde thought out loud.
"Not many people would miss a silver Jetta getting T-boned by a red Toyota and chucked over the s-side of an incline. It won't be long. And by the way, I d-don't care how cold it gets in here - I am not hugging you." House tried to reassure without being reassuring. Chase made a noise that sounded like he agreed, but otherwise remained silent.
House's vision began to blur slightly and his head felt unusually heavy. He blinked a few times, but his eyelids were fighting a losing battle. A sharp jolt in his good leg brought him back to reality. Chase had kicked him.
"Concussion, hypothermia, and still managing to fall asleep. Welcome to the 'class'," the Intensivist said, extremely pleased with himself.
"You have a concussion, too, you moron."
Chase just grinned.
"But notice that I skipped the speech."
House noted the fact that both of them had stopped shivering, which meant that their bodies were slowly shutting down against the cold. He pushed down his concern at the realization, turning his thoughts to how he'd use this to get out of clinic duty.
He ignored the man next to him, who coughed lightly into his hand. Chase pulled his palm away and tilted his head in mild fascination at the red specks. Oddly enough, he wasn't concerned. In fact, he was a little lightheaded. Content, even. He let his hand flop down into the water with a small splash.
House raised his eyebrows in a mixture of bemused frustration as he watched Chase watch the ripples he had made in the water in sheer amazement. The blonde hit the puddle again.
Splish.
Splash. Splash.
Splish.
Splash.
"Would you knock it off?! It's like dealing with a two year old! Find another way to entertain yourself that doesn't involve annoying me until the rescue team gets here. Do you think you can handle that, Robert?"
The Aussie's cheeks flushed crimson in the dark and he cast his eyes downward, wet hair matting his forehead. He looked positively pitiable.
"Sorry, Dad."
House's head snapped toward the blonde, pain flashing through his skull.
"What?"
"I said I was sorry," the younger man's voice was soft.
"The other part, you dolt."
"I said--" Chase's sentence was cut off by a fit of violent coughing. He hunched over, face scrunched up in agony as his ribs grated against one another. A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and down his chin as he continued to hack into his palms.
House pulled at him.
"Sit up straight."
Chase did as he was told, pushing himself up from his slouched position. The coughing tapered off into wheezing, his lips red. He wiped the blood off his chin with his sleeve.
"Superficial, huh?" House mocked.
"It's fine."
"Define 'fine'."
"Fine means not life threatening."
"At the moment."
Chase shrugged.
House threw his hands in the air, splashing them back down.
"New rule! No more shrugging and no more nifty hand gestures. Oral responses only! Got it?"
The blonde stopped himself mid shrug, opting instead for a mumbled "whatever."
"Good."
"You suck."
"Yea, well. At least I'm not delusional."
"I'm not delusional," Chase snapped indignantly.
"You called me 'dad'."
A flicker of panicked confusion swept through the Intensivist's eyes before he recovered in record time, "I was being sarcastic."
"Sure you were."
The two glared at each other before stubbornly turning their heads in opposite directions. It was quiet for several long minutes before Chase began to wheeze again, his breathing becoming labored. Finally, House turned back to his duckling.
"Deep breaths, you id…Chase?"
The Aussie's eyes were glazed, his head having fallen back and his body tilting heavily to the side.
"Chase! Wake up, you moron! Chase!"
He shook the blonde's shoulder, but there was no response. At the same time, several beams of light flashed into the car and House could hear raised voices.
"Hey! We're down here!"
The lights grew larger and the voices grew louder.
"Help is on the way, Wombat. You just do what you do best and hold on."
The only answer he got was the quiet gasping falling from blood stained lips.
To Be Continued
The heart knows its own bitterness, and no stranger can share its joy...There is a way that seems right to a person, but eventually it ends in death. Even while laughing a heart can ache and joy can end in grief. -- Proverbs 14:10-13