Dearest Readers,

*WARNING: This chapter is a bit graphic. There's no sexual innuendo or anything, but it involves blood.

Read on, Cherubs.

Over and out.

Chapter 5

House barged into Wilson's office without knocking, making Wilson jump. Wilson looked up angrily, but then realized who it was and went back to his paperwork. House walked over to Wilson's window and peered out; looking at the gray sky…it seemed to match his mood right now. He couldn't stop worrying about Chase. He was nervous to leave his apartment this morning, afraid that Chase would do something drastic. Wilson looked up at House, surprised that he hadn't said anything yet. He watched House stare out the window, deep in thought.

He was worried…he wanted to actually talk about it…but he didn't know how to start the conversation. These moments were rare, so Wilson knew that smartass remarks were not allowed.

"House? Is something wrong?" Wilson asked tentatively, knowing that House was completely unpredictable when he was like this.

"Dag Blast it you're right! I knew you were useful for something." House retorted, still staring out the window. Wilson sighed; he knew that sarcasm was House's way of letting off steam.

"What's wrong?" House didn't say anything for a minute or so and Wilson thought that he changed his mind about saying anything about what he was worried about.

"Chase is…not in a safe place." Wilson sat up straighter in his seat.

"Not in a safe place? Where is he? Do you know?" House shook his head and looked over at him.

"That's not what I mean." Wilson understood what House meant now:

Chase wasn't in a safe psychological place.

"What's wrong?" He asked seriously as House sat on the couch, tapping his cane.

He promised Chase that he wouldn't tell anyone what he told him. However, he had a strong feeling that Chase was going to do something drastic and soon. Chase needed someone to get him help because he's not going to stop what he's doing on his own. He turned to Wilson and Wilson saw intense seriousness in his eyes.

I've known House for years and this is the first time I've ever seen him this worried and serious.

"No one finds out about this, am I clear?" House said, a sharp edge in his voice. Wilson nodded.

"Of course, what's up with Chase?"

"I have a strong feeling that he's suicidal." Wilson slumped back in his seat, completely blown away by what House just said.

Chase? Suicidal? But…how would House know about that? Suicidal people may drop hints of their intentions, but they rarely, if ever, flat out say it.

"How do you know that? I doubt that he flat out said it." House hesitated.

"He's tried before." Silence filled the room as House's words floated between them, seemingly reverberating off the walls.

"Someone who has attempted suicide before will most likely try again if they don't get proper care."

"He never got that proper care." House cut in, staring at the floor. Wilson eyed his friend carefully. This was a new thing for him: he's never seen House in this state. He's never seen his friend so worried about someone.

He doesn't have any control in Chase's situation. House needs control. If he doesn't have a sense of control, it either pisses him off or terrifies him…but he would never admit that he's terrified of not having control. But House is more likely to get pissed off about not having control than scared. He…really does care about Chase.

"We need to do something…but…what?" Wilson looked up at the sound of helplessness in House's voice. He hesitated momentarily.

"Actually…there's no 'we' in this, remember? YOU need to do something. I'll be here, but I can't get directly involved without Chase getting suspicious." House nodded, realizing that he was right. He sighed heavily; worry still increasing within him. Wilson smiled slightly.

"You really care about him don't you?"

"Don't get all 'teenage-hormone-raged-girl' on me, Jimmy." Wilson's smile widened, he knew House was being defensive. But, he decided to let it go and House stood and left the office.

HouseXChase

He screamed in frustration and tugged at his hair, leaving small streaks of blood in the golden locks. He angrily pulled his hands away from his hair, looking at the traces of blood and strands of blonde hair. His dull green-blue eyes traveled down to his left arm where he had made a fresh cut near his elbow and deepened the gash on his bicep. He wrapped his thin arms around his legs that were tucked up to his chest and he rested his forehead against his knees. He made himself as small as possible as he sat in the space between the shower and the sink, more tears streaming down his face as he realized that he couldn't fit into the small space as well as he used to.

He was getting bigger.

House knocked on Chase's door and waited for him to answer it. He paled and his heart seemed to stop when he heard a muffled scream coming from the inside of the apartment. House let himself into the dark apartment and saw a light coming from what he assumed to be the bathroom. He walked as quickly as he could towards the room and peered in.

Drops of blood were near the wall to his right along with a small pocketknife that glinted in the dull light. House's eyes darted away to look for Chase, surprised that he couldn't see the blonde at first glance. He knew Chase was in there because he would hear him breathing; his eyes then saw a smear of blood near the center of the floor that led towards the space between the sink and shower.

He must have cut himself near the wall and then moved to the space between the sink and shower.

House walked forward carefully so that he wouldn't scare Chase. He looked down at Chase, bloody and broken. His clear eyes narrowed worriedly as he saw the vividness of Chase's spine and other bones. House sat on the side of the shower and reached out to gently Chase's hair, noting the small amount of blood that was streaked through it.

Chase jumped and looked at House, eyes wide. How did he get in? He must've left the door unlocked. He began to grow angry and his dull eyes narrowed. What right did House have to come into his apartment without his permission? He was doing fine until House came in and ruined everything. He was doing fine before House confused him to the point of frustration. House carefully moved his hand to place in on Chase's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Chase snapped, slapping House's hand away.

House was surprised by the change in behavior and watched, worriedly, as Chase wormed his way out of his space and stood in front of the mirror. House looked at Chase's figure, realizing that it was worse than he first thought. He could obviously see that he was skin and bones, despite the fact that his white undershirt and black lounging pants covered the skinniest parts of his body. His mind took in how Chase's clothes hung loosely on his thin frame as dull eyes glared angrily back at him. House stood and slowly walked towards Chase, not wanting him to lash out at him. Chase noticed this and his glare deepened.

"Don't come any closer." Chase warned his voice thick from crying. House stopped, his worry growing from not only Chase's current condition, but by the fact that he's never seen Chase this angry before.

"Chase, listen to me. I'm going to try to help—"

"I don't need help!" Chase snapped again. "I was doing fine until you got involved."

"Fine? Chase, you're far away from being fine."

"You're saying I'm hard to look at now?" Chase said, his voice rising.

"No, you're not hard to look at and everything I've ever said to you was not a lie. Your current physical state is not safe or healthy. If you continue like this, you'll die." House put emphasis on his last statement.

"So?" Chase's eyes burned House to the core, but House felt his heart stop and body freeze at Chase's response.

There was no emotion in that; not in his voice or body language. He doesn't seem to care or is even fazed by the reality that this can kill him. I know he's tried to kill himself before, so what I've thought earlier was right: Chase is suicidal.

Chase looked away from him, placing his hands on his hip bones, anger radiating from him. House sighed and stepped closer, choosing his words carefully.

"You know what I think?" He said.

"If I say yes, do you still have to tell me?" Chase shot back, sparking House's anger. But the older man pushed it down, knowing that Chase's retort just bruised his pride, not anything else.

Despite how much I didn't like it being directed at me, that was good on his part.

"I think that you have been forced to believe a lie, thanks to your father. I think that you feel the things that you do and have thoughts that you're worthless and other things along that line because you had no one around to contradict those ideas." He paused, hoping that his words were having some kind of effect. "But you're not, Robbie, and everyone would say the same thing."

Chase turned to look at him, his glassy eyes looking bright in the dull light. He processed House's words as he stared into House's eyes. He saw pure honesty in their blue depths. He turned towards the mirror and looked at himself, taking in every feature.

How many times has he stood in this exact spot and stared at himself? Picking apart every single flaw he saw? House's words echoed in his head, combating his pre-existing degrading thoughts. He darted his eyes back towards House and took a small step forward. Chase hesitated before taking another step before reaching his boss and wrapped his arms around House's middle, laying his head on his shoulder.

House leaned his cane against the sink and wrapped his arms around Chase's narrow shoulders, the smell of peach invading his nose again. He felt his heart clench when he felt something warm against his neck and a small sniff.

Chase was trying not to cry.

House knew that Chase had pride, who doesn't? So he knew that that was the main reason Chase was trying so hard to not cry. The blonde didn't want to show vulnerability or weakness, but House knew that crying wasn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness, even though he wouldn't admit it.

Chase has always had to emotionally protect himself. He's been doing it for so long that he's become an expert at it. He never shows any sign of anything that would remotely show that he was struggling somehow, even if he was just feeling "under the weather". He's always had to fight against other people, but there's only so long you can fight before you start losing your strength to fight anymore.

HouseXChase

Alright Gang,

I know House is kind of sounding like a hypocrite right now, but it's honestly just how I want him to be.

Reviews would be wonderful!

When-Rabbit-Howls