021. Beggar

It's Him

It was a quiet week in the Diagnostic Medicine department and Chase was taking a shift down in the ER when the beggar was brought in. He'd apparently had an argument with a dog which he'd lost, stumbled out into the road and been struck by a car. He was in bad shape when he was brought in and when Chase exchanged glances with the nurses he could tell that they all knew what he did – they weren't going to win this fight. Maybe if the man had been in better shape instead of suffering from years of self-neglect and self-abuse they might have had a chance but now…now all they could do was their best and it wasn't going to be enough.

It was with a sense of resigned frustration that Chase called the time of death and it was only a moment after that that one of the nurse called his name, her voice startled and shocked. He turned to see the nurse holding the dead man's wallet in one hand and a wrinkled, slightly tattered photograph in the other.

"I…I was looking for ID," she stammered. "The police wanted to know if there might be any next of kin. I found the wallet and…this fell out of it."

She thrust the photo at him and Chase took it gingerly. He looked down at it and his eyes widened. The photograph was of three boys in their teens. He glanced over at the dead man and saw enough in the ravaged face to realise that the oldest of the teens was this man. But it was the middle of the three teens that held his attention. He knew that face. It was James Wilson. A younger, more awkward, slightly gangly version of the man but definitely James Wilson.

He looked back over at the dead beggar again and wondered how this had happened. How Wilson's brother could end up like this. Finally he looked over at the nurse.

"I'll go and talk to Dr Wilson," he said quietly. "Could you…take care of…him?"

He gestured towards the dead man and the nurse nodded soberly.

"Shall I tell the police?" she asked softly.

Chase hesitated then nodded. "Tell them I'll let Dr Wilson know they'd like to speak to him."

The nurse nodded again and Chase walked out of the ER. He quickly headed up to Wilson's office. When he realised the man wasn't there, he headed next door and found him in House's office. The two men were talking, bantering from the amused and relaxed expressions on their faces and Chase took a deep breath before knocking and opening the door.

"Dr Wilson?" he said as he walked in.

He saw House's eyebrow go up but his boss said nothing as Wilson looked over at him with mild surprise.

"Yes?" Wilson said, a hint of concern growing as he tried to anticipate what Chase wanted and obviously suspected it was something about one of his patients.

Chase hesitated for a moment then swallowed hard before saying, "I…a man was brought into the ER. He'd been savaged by a dog then hit by a car. Unfortunately we…we weren't able to save him. He…had this in his wallet. I…he's the oldest."

He held out the tattered photograph and Wilson took it from him with a hand that was shaking just fractionally. Chase saw emotions swirl tumultuously in Wilson's eyes before he looked down at the photo. When he did, all the blood drained from his face and he whispered one word.

"David."

He then looked up at Chase, his face twisted with despair. "Are you sure?"

Chase looked down at his feet and nodded. "The eyes. The cheekbones. The jaw. There are changes but it's him."

Wilson made a small strangled noise and the photo fluttered down to the ground from his suddenly nerveless fingers. Chase gave a start when House hauled himself out of his chair and limped around the desk without his cane. The next thing he knew House had his arm in a painful grip and was hauling him ungracefully towards the door.

"Get out," House snapped. "Tell whoever's there…the nurses, cops, whatever…that we'll be there when we get there."

The next moment House had yanked the door open and Chase found himself propelled out into the corridor. He stumbled slightly then caught himself and looked back into the office. House hadn't bothered to close the curtains but instead had limped back over to Wilson and was now placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. As Chase watched Wilson shuddered and seemed to fold in on himself for a moment before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around House, burying his face into his chest.

Chase's eyes widened as House returned the embrace, one hand gently stroking Wilson's hair. Chase stared for a moment longer then he determinedly stepped forward, sneaking the door open and sliding into the room. He felt House's glare burn into his back but he resolutely ignored it as he quietly pulled the curtains closed. He then headed for the door again.

"Chase."

House's uncharacteristically quiet voice made him stop and he turned his head just enough to look at his boss. House didn't say anything else; he just nodded once, his eyes conveying his gratitude. Chase returned the nod then slipped out of the room. He turned towards the elevators, intending to go back down to the ER then he stopped. He thought for a moment then headed for the conference room. He'd call the nurse down in the ER, get her to talk to the police. He was going to lurk out in the corridor. Cuddy might come looking for House…or Cameron or Foreman. Chase was going to make sure that the two men remained undisturbed.