Chapter 7-Stuck Together
Disclaimer: I do not own House.
House regained consciousness only to find an oxygen mask on his face. His blue eyes adjusted to the blinding hospital lights up above. Apparently, the whole crew was there. Didn't these people ever go home, he thought?
Cameron was mumbling something about his blood pressure while Chase was driving the gurney. Foreman was explaining House's "accident" to the others. House hoped that Foreman gained no pleasure in telling the others of his weakness. House tried to glance down at the front of his pants to see the blood, but was overwhelmed with nausea. A gentle hand pushed him back down.
"Don't try to move."
It was Wilson.
"You're at the hospital."
House rolled his eyes or at least tried to.
"Really?" he rasped through the oxygen mask. "Duh!"
Wilson scowled at the remark. The man was possibly experiencing renal failure or even cancer which was another reason Wilson was there, and he was still cracking jokes.
Wilson continued talking. Did the man ever shut up, House thought?
"You passed out shortly after going to the bathroom. You've loss nearly a pint of blood."
House's eyes became glazed. Cameron who was by his side the entire time, noticed.
"Don't worry," she stated.
"You're in good hands."
House was about to make a wisecrack, but the only words that came out were
"I know."
Cameron watched as they wheeled him away.
----------------
House waited in anticipation completely unable to move as he was hoisted onto a hospital bed by his colleagues. Foreman was hooking him up to an IV as Chase was shouting out directives to the others. Chase was taking charge, how unique thought House. Cuddy was beside him monitoring his vitals with one hand and gripping House's hand with the other. For once, House didn't interfere and let the doctors do their jobs.
"It'll be OK, "he heard Wilson say before he lost consciousness again.
When he awoke, the first thing he heard was the faint beeping of the machines. He reached up to the remove the oxygen mask. He felt OK breathing. Maybe that was a good sign. House turned to face the man in the chair reading. It was Chase. Not a good sign, House thought.
"So we meet again, Blond Boy," House said mimicking in a superhero voice.
Chase glared, "Trust me, I'm not looking forward to this either, so, let's just ignore each other for the next 24 hours and everything'll be fine."
House scoffed with a wave of his hand, "Where's the fun in that?"
Chase continued to ignore House which only piques his interest.
"What are you reading? Find anything to help improve my condition yet? You know, sick guy over here."
Chase muttered under his breath
"Testier than usual, I see." House said.
"What are you reading?"
Chase's eyes flickered from the page to House's blue eyes.
"An article."
At first, House couldn't see the type of magazine he was reading so took a stab at it.
"Wow, you really do read them for the articles."
Chase slammed the magazine down, not liking the implication of the statement and House got a better look at it.
"It's a medical journal, "Chase growled.
"No shit, Sherlock, "House rebuked.
"Which one?"
Chase sighed realizing that House wouldn't shut up.
"American Journal of Medicine."
House grunted, "We really are better aren't we?" referring to the United States.
Chase ignored the slur against his heritage.
"I was actually reading something about your condition."
House's eyes widened.
"Do you know what's wrong with me?"
Chase grinned.
"Yeah, but the list is too long."
House realized he walked or in his case limped into that one.
"Touché. I meant…"
Chase put the article down and sighed.
"I know what you meant. I'm not sure what you have."
House's eyebrows rose.
"Not sure or don't know?"
Aren't they the same thing?" Chase said in an exhauster bated tone.
House laughed, "God no, you really are a blond aren't you?"
"Look, I don't appreciate your rude comments…"
"What do you think I have?" House interjected.
Chase paused almost afraid to answer. "I originally thought you had Grave's disease."
House adjusted himself on the bed carefully wrapping his hospital gown around his body.
"And now?"
Chase shook his head as he bit his lower lip.
"I'm not sure anymore. Your original symptoms seemed geared toward that, but with the blood in the urine and blood when you cough, it doesn't add up."
"True, Grave's disease doesn't usually consist of vomiting blood," House added.
Chase gazed at his mentor. "Do you think it's Graves?"
House shifted suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
"It doesn't matter what I think. You're the doctor, now act like one."
Chase stood up and out of his chair in sheer defense.
"This is your life! Don't you give a damn about it?"
"I'd give a damn, "House said while popping Vicodin, "if you'd get your head in the game. Make a decision. Now leave me alone. I want to sleep."
Chase took one last look at House before biting his tongue and leaving him to dream.
Hope you all liked. If I get a lot of reviews on this one I should have another chapter up tonight. Poor chase huh? Wonder why House doesn't like him. Have to wait and see.
Up next: House tells Chase what he really thinks of him.