Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to House or Red Eye.

"She was hallucinating," Chase said from his seat at the large white table. "If she was shot, what would that have to do with her brain?"

"Well, it could be something completely unrelated to the gun wound," Dr Foreman said. "It could be brain cancer or a tumor, it could even be something mental, I saw the news. That girl went through a lot on that flight,"

"She went through a lot almost three years ago, and now she's sick, I don't buy it." He said leaning forward slightly to emphasize his point.

"You don't buy anything from anyone," Dr Foreman said looking at the yo-yo in House's hand.

"And I'm not going to start with Miss Pretty Gunshot victim," he turned and began to write on his white board. Chase leaned forward to read what it said, but House step in front of the board and blocked their view of it. "Nope, nobody gets to see the board yet," Chase shook his head and looked away.

"Chase, check for cancer," he turned to the team as he gathered his papers and stood to leave, "If she thinks you're her ex-boyfriend, go along with it. It'd be funny," shaking his head once again, Chase left the room. "Cameron, I'd like you to interview any family she might have, talk to Cuddy she might know, she's into all that sentimental junk." Cameron stood, frustrated, but she followed Chase's example and left the room with out another word. "Foreman, clinic duty," he threw a small name tag to him, and he caught it easily, "Go be me for a few hours."

Chase walked down the hallway toward the patients' room, finally reaching the glass room, he entered with a sigh. "Well, Miss Reisert…" he began, and then trailed off upon seeing her in the bed. Her red curly hair curved around her face and fell loosely over her shoulders as her green eyes widened in surprise upon seeing him. The strong, gorgeous, famous, and angelic Lisa Reisert that he had heard so much about over the past three years, now sat in front of him. Broken. Her face was pale and sweaty as she trembled slightly. He had seen pictures of her on the news, he had read the papers, done anything to get information about the manager girl in high heels who took down the wanted, Jackson Ripner. But none of that prepared him for the sight he found in front of him. She was more beautiful then he could ever imagine, and she was sitting on a bed in front of him, waiting for him to diagnose her. He suddenly felt his heart race as she opened her mouth to speak, and then he felt his stomach drop when she finally did.

"Get. Out."

Lisa's voice emerged barely a whisper, yet it was strong and unwavering. The man in front of her seemed puzzled by this request, "Excuse me?" His accent came through loud and clear, but did little to calm her nerves.

"You heard me, Get. Out." She leaned forward slightly.

"I think you misunderstood why I am here," he said taking a step forward. "I'm Dr Chase, I'm here to treat you," he chanced another step forward and she leaped from the bed and pressed herself against the wall farthest from him.

"Treat me?" she shrieked, "You're the reason I'm here!" Chase took another step towards her and set the papers that he was holding on the end of the bed.

"Listen, I'm not sure who you think I am," he began chancing yet another step towards her, "But I am not the man who shot you!" with that said, Lisa picked up the vase that sat on the nightstand next to the hospital bed, and threw it at his head. He quickly ducked ended up hitting head on the bed behind him, "Shoot." He hissed putting a hand on the back of his head and feeling the blood.

"Good riddance, Blondie!" she spat as she dashed from the room.

House was sitting in his office, sucking on a red dum-dum when he heard a loud crash from down the hall. Letting a frustrated sigh, he stood and limped from his office, not to quickly, and not too slowly, he didn't want to seem eager. The sight that greeted him caused him reach into his pocket and pull out a syringe.

As Lisa rounded the corner, House reached out and grabbed her by the arms, pressing her back against his chest. She screamed and kicked out against him as she tried to break, "No! Don't!" she screamed.

Suddenly, she went limp in his arms as he injected the syringe into the skin on her neck. He guided her limp form to the ground then panting, he turned to Chase who was rushing to his side, "Congratulations, you're the new ex-boyfriend." He said reaching for his cane once again and standing up, "You might want to get her back to her room before someone thinks you did something really bad." House turned and walked away.

"She thinks I shot her," Chase said to House's retreating back.

"Well, did you?" he asked turning to face him.

"No, why would I shoot her?"

"Why would you not shoot her?" Chase simply blinked at him. He didn't have a reason quiet yet.

"Now, like I said, get her back to her room before someone thinks you did the naughty."

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