3b
A/N: This has turned into a 3-parter. 3c will come along soon. The reviews are heartening... :-)
"He couldn't give up on me, either."
House leaned forward as Wilson took his place behind the colossal soup pot and began ladling a steaming white broth into plain white bowls. "Idiot."
Gabe looked at House as he pushed a few buttons on the silver remote. The sofa began to move towards the other end of the line. "I can certainly understand the short-sightedness when he decided to make a friend out of you, but that's harsh, Doc."
House leaned back onto his side of the sofa and picked a handful of popcorn from the pail-sized bag that sat between them. "Since when have I ever been—uh, Gabe?"
"Hmm—what?" Gabe asked as he pressed some more buttons on the remote. The sofa settled a meter away from Wilson ladling chicken soup into the bowl of a toothless, grizzled elderly black man wearing a suspiciously familiar jacket. After successfully parking the sofa to the wall, Gabe turned to his former doctor.
The doctor was looking wide-eyed at the top of his ex-patient's head. "Your hair spontaneously turned a shade whiter," House mumbled, "while you were driving the sofa."
"Woah boy," Gabe said worriedly. He leaned over his armrest and produced a large, square-shaped mirror. He raised this over his head and looked at his hair. "Damn!"
"I can help you with the hair coloring, but the whiteboard markers are in my office…" House offered too sweetly, but Gabe stuffed the mirror into the bag of popcorn and whipped out the remote control. The sofa lurched, turning a sharp 90 degrees to the right; Gabe, half of the giant bag of popcorn and the rest of the sofa disappeared behind the wall the sofa parked next to.
"Don't mind me!" Gabe yelled through the wall. The sofa began to move sideways away from the wall until the popcorn and the second visitor fully reappeared.
Making a sound of irritation, House leaned over the popcorn and held out his hand. "Gimme the remote and I'll drive, you lush!"
Gabe shifted away from House and turned the remote on him. Something yanked House to his side of the sofa and planted his back firmly on the cushioned surface. Incensed, House tried to pull away from the back of the sofa, but couldn't. He raised his right arm and started to stretch it towards Gabe.
"Just try it, Grumpy," Gabe snarled. Turning his head towards his captor, House saw him waving the remote from side-to-side.
House relented and lowered his right arm.
"Better," Gabe grumbled. He pressed a button and the sofa began to move forward through the tables and the people. "Gotta schedule to meet, and meet it we shall!"
"Where are you taking me?" House demanded as the sofa approached the beat-up wooden door.
House blinked rapidly as the bright light dimmed. The sofa was cruising down an unfamiliar hospital hallway, the cream-colored walls dotted along the way with Christmas wreaths. Looking around him, House found windows—and snow-free, late afternoon sunshine?
"Ever visited Australia before, Dr. House?" Gabe asked cheerfully. A rustling sound distracted the two men. Looking down at the same time, it was discovered that Steve had decided to nose dive into the bag of popcorn.
"Rat-flavored—YUM," House said flippantly. "I take it we're in Victoria, huh?"
"Yep," Gabe replied. The sofa turned left at the corner of the nurse's station and moved forward. "Remember Dr. Chase signing up for leave three days before the start of December?"
House snorted. "How could I remember when he asked permission from Cuddy behind my back? Curly left the country by the time I was told a day later."
"Did he tell you why he had to leave?" Gabe asked.
House shrugged. "Didn't even leave a post-it with Cameron. He's finally learned how to stop kissing my ass."
"Must be due to the right hook you dealt him when he tried to sell you his epiphany one time," Gabe said cautiously. "I could be wrong, but that's not how management deals with the employee's Eureka moment."
House's mouth thinned at the reminder as the sofa stopped in front of room 1825. At the press of a button, the sofa turned right and went into the room.
On the bed was a little girl with shoulder-length dark blond hair. The sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks were greatly enhanced by her paleness. Her rosebud mouth was a pale shade of violet. She's asleep at the moment; to House's trained eyes, the falling and rising of her chest didn't seem adequate to provide her with the necessary oxygen, even with the nasal cannula. The heart monitor on her left showed that her pulse was weak, but steady. On the other side of her bed, next to the night table piled with gaily wrapped packages, was a small white Christmas tree.
The sofa stopped moving when it was in line with the hospital bed. It shifted until its occupants were facing the sleeping patient. House saw the girl's chart stuck in its receptacle at the edge of the girl's bed and leaned forward—Gabe must have pressed the release button—to read it. When the name registered, he sat back and rubbed a hand on his stubble.
"Olivia Chase. This is either Chase's half-sister or his underaged girlfriend," he muttered. "But last I heard, the age of consent in Australia is the same everywhere except in some parts of Asia and Iceland and he's not that stupid, so that means she's a relative. And by the looks of the equipment she's attached to, something is seriously wrong with her heart."
During House's monologue, Gabe shifted in his seat until he was completely facing his seatmate and crossed his arms. When House was finished, Gabe asked, "You didn't know he had a half-sister, didn't you?"
House shook his head. "I ought to sue him for leaving this tidbit out in his family history."
The door opened, and Chase entered the room. House's eyes widened at Chase's attire; the younger man was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of checkered sneakers. Apart from the sneakers, the intensivist dressed normally.
Chase went to the bed and picked up the girl's chart; the look on his face turned grim as his eyes beheld the chart's contents. With a hiss of frustration, Chase flipped the chart closed and dropped it back to its receptacle.
"Rob, is that you?" a weak voice emanated from the bed. Chase swiftly turned around to face the bed's occupant.
"I'm here, Libby," he said in a calm, soothing voice. He grabbed a chair near the Christmas tree and placed it near her left before sitting on it. He took the small hand that had lain limply on the bed and pressed it to his lips.
Libby's eyes were open—House had expected them to be of the same color as her brother's, but he was proven wrong when he saw that they were dark brown. She turned her head to look at Chase and smiled. "Happy Christmas, mate."
"Happy Christmas to you too, Libby," Chase replied. He looked behind him. "You haven't opened your presents yet?"
Libby shook her head. "I got sleepy," she said, looking down at the dark blue blanket covering her.
Chase frowned. "Charlotte told me what happened yesterday…"
"Mum should've let you bunk in at our house," Libby whispered harshly, her small hand gripping her brother's tightly. She had noticed how Chase tensed up, looking at the heart monitor in alarm. Libby closed her eyes and sighed, leaning back onto her pillows.
"I'm sorry, Rob…"
"Listen," Chase cut in, stretching his right hand out to gently lift her dainty chin up. "I told you—I'm okay with staying at the seminary while I'm here. You know why I can't stay at your place…"
"I know," Libby grumbled. "But it's not fair. You don't come here to visit anymore since you got that job in the States. I have to get really sick for you to get your arse down here, and you won't stay at our house for the holidays. Is it 'cause Dad left you out in the will?"
Chase carefully released Libby's hand and placed it back on top of the bed. House caught a flash of bitterness on the handsome face before he turned to the night table and picked up all the gifts placed there.
"I'll tell you more one day, Libby," Chase said in a quiet tone, his face blank. "It's not something I want to discuss during this festive season. What say we open your presents, eh?"
"Especially about your boss?"
"Especially about my boss," Chase said in a serious voice.
Libby looked up, seeming to consider it.
"Oh, I want to be there when that happens," Gabe snickered. "If he's making up stories about Dr. Meanie House, I really want to be there!"
"Shut up," House snarled, tossing several pieces of popcorn in Gabe's face.
When Libby turned her eyes to her older brother, Chase forced a cheerful smile and lifted up the packages. "I'll take these with me back to New Jersey—even the one that came from Calum Nichols," he threatened.
Libby rolled her eyes. "Give it here, you bully," she snarled, her voice becoming a little stronger.
Chase grinned, lowering the packages on her bed and sneaking up a glance at the heart monitor.
House stretched out his legs. "Trouble with the evil stepmother—oh, when will Chase ever meet up with his Miss Prince Charming?"
"You're all heart, Doc," Gabe said darkly, shaking his head. "I am curious: how would Libby develop this heart condition thing?"
"She'd have a defective heart from day one," House said curtly, watching as a bright-eyed Libby opened her presents with as much enthusiasm as a girl with her condition is able to summon up. "Depending on the severity of the case, Libby can live almost a normal life—with precautions—or live life inside a bubble."
Gabe expressed his newfound knowledge with an appreciative "Ah. Considering whom he's working with, and you calling him a kiss-ass, why didn't he ask you to review her case?"
"Because he knows I'd be bored with it," House replied. "And he'd already know that two things could save her: a heart bypass operation or a heart transplant. If the bypass wasn't an option, I'd say she's stuck on the donor list for a new ticker. If he didn't know that, I wouldn't have hired him."
House did get what Gabe was trying to say. Working at one of the best hospitals in the United States, Chase would be able to bring his little sister to PPTH and get a second opinion or better treatment. A heart transplant is virtually impossible due to the waiting list, but then again, Chase was working under a man who had the blunt to make what he wants happen.
Since that thing with Vogler, Chase had been discovered and labeled as an opportunist. With his sister's life in the balance, it would be easy for him use his connection with House as a way of tipping the scales in her favor. Was Chase really that selfish, or was something or someone getting in his way?
House got his answer immediately.
"I've saved enough money to buy a plane ticket and visit you in New Jersey, Rob," Libby suddenly said. "I worked it out with Katt; she and Shannon can…"
"Olivia," Chase groaned, holding his head between his hands. "We've been through this—the plane trip alone might…" He tightened his hold on his blond hair.
"It will work! Dr. Sallet prescribed me some new meds for my heart this month…"
"Libby…"
"I want to get away from her!" Libby began to cry. "You think Dad loved me more than you 'cause he was there more for me? No he didn't! If he loved me, he would've taken your suggestion that I get another opinion from your boss or some other cardiologist working at your hospital. But no—Mum doesn't want me to travel. She's neurotic! She doesn't let me go anywhere unless its school or piano lessons. I'm a prisoner! I'm…"
The heart monitor began bleeping moments after Libby grabbed her chest, wincing and moaning in pain. Chase moved fast; he cleared the packages off her bed in one swipe of the arm and then he lowered Libby's bed until it was in the prone position. The nurses rushed into the room with the necessary equipment as Chase started yelling for a defibrillator.
As the sofa turned to face the door, Gabe said quietly, "Apparently, Dr. Chase is related to Rapunzel."
The bright light dimmed. The sofa was no longer moving on flat ground, it was now going up a darkened set of stairs. Raucous laughter and louder Christmas music wafted down at them, getting louder as the sofa made its way up.
"We're back at Princeton," House said. "I know this place…"
"It's a few blocks from the hospital," Gabe cut in. When the sofa entered the brightly lit room at the top of the stairs, something caught House's eye. Turning to Gabe, he looked at the phantom critically and said loudly over the music, "You're graying again."
Gabe reached into the bag of popcorn and extracted the square-shaped mirror. One look into the glass made Gabe sigh. "It's almost over," he said dejectedly. "Have to make this one worthwhile—last stop before my shift ends." He dropped the mirror back into the bag, eliciting a squeak of protest from within. "Woah—sorry Stevie! My bad."
House glared at Gabe as he reached into the bag and extracted his piqued pet. One glance at the place made House pause and sit up straighter in his seat. "I was invited to this jamboree, but I had better things to do."
"What? Get drunk and smashed?" Gabe asked as some confetti rained through him.
"Better than talking to this mob," House replied, eyeing a buxom nurse's generous display in a low-cut, body-hugging purple dress. "I think she stole that outfit from Cuddy's closet."
The rented room at the pub that Chase, Foreman, and Cameron frequented was packed with a lot of nurses and doctors from PPTH. Like the nurse House leered at, several of them were wearing fancy party clothes. The rest of the throng looked like they haven't changed from their work clothes.
"They just got out of their shift," House yelled over the music as the sofa passed by the speakers, pumping out the music. "And I know who we're going to spy on tonight."
"And there they are!" Gabe shouted, pointing at a corner of the room where a small crowd was gathered.
Almost there...