a/n: Sorry about going a little evil with the cliffhangers the last two chapters. I just couldn't help myself. You might notice the appearance in a scene of a long forgotten character. Yes, we have a Foreman sighting! Enjoy.

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Chase threw back the curtain and rushed out of the room. A bewildered Wilson froze in his spot, eyes wide and mouth hung open, left to contemplate whether or not Chase came to his senses and decided to make a run for it. His speculation was soon answered when Chase appeared with a small bottle in his hand, a glass of water and a waste can.

Chase opened the bottle, cupped the back of House's head with his hand and propped it up. "House, you need to swallow this." His instruction came with composure for House's sake, but his words were tinged with anxiety.

Wilson quickly figured out what Chase was up to. "Ipecac?"

"Yep, we need to accelerate his 'allergy' symptoms."

"That will take at least fifteen minutes to work."

Chase held up a glass of water to House's lips next. "Not if it goes down with salt water."

Wilson winced. "Ooh, so cruel."

"Yeah, well he's not feeling any pain." Chase watched House struggle with the water, but he swallowed anyway.

Wilson couldn't argue with that. "I'll stall Tritter."

Before Chase could ask how he planned to do that, Wilson was out the front door. He turned back to House, who was already starting to look a little sour. "Think disgusting thoughts," Chase told House.

Wilson casually walked down the steps, even whistling for maximum effect. He feigned shock when greeted by Tritter at the bottom.

"I thought I recognized that car," Tritter said. "Good to have it back?"

"Why yes detective, thanks for asking. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here. Did Chase do something wrong?"

"I need to ask him some questions. You too, so you're being here is making my job easier."

"Chase doesn't seem to be home," Wilson said, turning around and pointing toward the apartment. "I knocked on his door for several minutes and he didn't answer."

Tritter glanced at Wilson with curiosity and placed his hands in his pants pockets. "Funny, I never pegged you and Dr. Chase to be friends."

"Sure. Robert and I hang out all the time."

Tritter was still suspicious. "I seem to recall you have another friend. You know, the one you don't go anywhere without."

"Who, House?" Wilson let out a little chuckle, intent on throwing in long pauses to drag out this conversation. "Come on, despite what you think, I have a life you know."

Tritter scoffed at the idea. "Speaking of your dear friend Greg, you wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Wilson took in a long deep breath of contemplation. "Nope, haven't seen him since yesterday at the hospital."

Tritter took in a step closer. "I've got another theory. You do have a good idea where House might be, like maybe, visiting his newly crowned primary physician because of a bad physical problem. One caused by taking some illegal drugs. I'm willing to bet your visit to 'your dear friend Robert' wasn't a social call."

Wilson huffed in shock over such an accusation. "Well I-" His thought was interrupted by a siren screaming down the street, saving him from faking another denial. He was in awe over the perfect timing. Wilson did his best acting job in showing curiosity over the arriving ambulance, watching with Tritter as the bright red vehicle pulled right in front of them.

The paramedics jumped out, one taking his place in between Wilson and Tritter. Wilson almost broke his routine and pointed him to where he needed to go, when Chase appeared at the top of the steps. "In here," he waved at both paramedics frantically.

Tritter looked at Wilson after the paramedics brushed by, who in response shook his head, held out his arms and shrugged his shoulders, indicating he had no idea what was going on. Tritter realized he had been tricked and raced up the stairs to the apartment entrance.

They didn't get far into Chase's apartment, for the medical equipment was blocking the doorway, but they got a good view from there. House was violently ill, vomiting in the trash can Chase was holding for him, while the paramedics began to work on him.

"Anaphylaxis," Chase told them. "He's having a reaction to Vigabatrin. He needs a diphenhydramine drip." A paramedic rushed over to the supply box and pulled out an IV bag and tube.

Chase glanced over to the gathering by the doorway. "Sorry I can't give a proper hello."

"I tried knocking on the door Robert, but you didn't answer." Wilson replied.

Did Wilson just call me Robert? Man he's putting on a good show. "Sorry, James, but I couldn't answer. I had my hands full."

"Dr. Chase," Tritter said, not at all impressed by the cover up these two were doing. "We have good reason to believe your patient was shooting heroin last night."

"Impossible," Chase said. "He was with me all night. He came over because he wasn't feeling well."

A paramedic pushed both Tritter and Wilson aside to fetch the gurney. Chase assisted a vomiting House some more, while the paramedics brought the gurney next to the couch. Tritter noticed the pushed aside coffee table with the bottle of whiskey and only one glass. He frowned, for he couldn't find any good evidence that Wilson was there. "Dr. Chase, you seem pretty sharp for someone who has tipped a few wet ones."

"I had only one drink to calm myself hours ago."

Chase got out of the way, giving room for the paramedics to move House and get him prepared for transport. "Princeton Plainsboro," Chase instructed, following behind while they wheeled House out. He felt a hand on his shoulder stop him when he tried to pass through the doorway.

"Dr. Chase, I have some questions," Tritter said in a terse voice.

"Can't you tell I'm in the middle of a medical emergency?"

"I'll ride with you to the hospital," Tritter insisted.

"Sorry, but that's not in the best welfare of my patient. We can talk at the hospital later." Chase pushed his way through the doorway and dashed down the stairs.

"I'll follow along in my car," Wilson shouted to Chase, watching the paramedics load House into the ambulance.

Chase glanced up at Wilson, marveling over his bang up job of looking shocked, dismayed and concerned. Man he should be an actor. He missed his calling in life. "See you at the hospital." He climbed in the back of the ambulance and they sped off.

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Thanks to Cameron's efforts, the ER was well prepared for House's arrival. She told the staff that since they were working on a fellow doctor that would prefer his privacy, she and Chase could handle the situation and they would call for assistance if needed. House was rushed to a private area as soon as he arrived, Cameron yanking the curtains shut when Chase was inside the bay.

"Thanks," Chase told Cameron, who hoped she would think ahead.

"What happened?"

"I'll explain later. We need a private room. I'm going to induce a coma for the next eight hours."

"You're going to do rapid detox? Did he do what Tritter said he did?"

Chase hesitated, but then figured she would learn the truth anyway. "Yes."

"Rapid detox is too risky. You know that it increases his risk of overdose when he goes back to popping pills like tic-tacs."

"I have no choice." Chase replied in a hushed voice. "Tritter is in the lobby. If we don't flush the drugs out of his system, Tritter has his evidence."

Cameron sadly nodded, realizing he was right. "I'll get a room." She pushed aside the curtain in a rush, letting it fall behind her.

Chase clasped his hands at the back of his head and took in a deep breath. He usually thrived on excitement, but this was a bit too much.

"Chase?" A weary and slurred voice called from the bed.

"Good to see you back with us House."

"Feel sick."

"Yes, you should."

House rolled his head back and forth a few times on the pillow, his senses slowly processing what was happening. "Hospital."

Chase moved next to House, and leaned closer so that his words wouldn't be easily heard. "We don't have much time. We're moving you to a private room soon. I'm going to induce a coma and put you through rapid detox."

"Too risky."

"Tritter is in the lobby right now. It seems some drug dealer claims he sold you smack last night. I told them you showed up to my place sick and were having a reaction to the Vigabatrin and Vicodin. If I don't flush your system, then my diagnosis doesn't hold up and they get their drug test."

House weakly nodded. Even in his foggy state, the plan made sense. "Do it."

They both heard Cameron's voice talking to someone on the other side of the curtain. House feebly grabbed Chase's arm. "No Cameron."

Chase smiled, completely agreeing with the request. "Consider it done."

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Chase was too busy adjusting the meds that were keeping House under to notice anyone walk in. Eventually, he saw someone out of the corner of his eye take a seat in the corner and pull out a magazine.

"Come to see the show?" Chase asked.

"Oh yeah, this room is just brimming with excitement," Foreman said sarcastically, flipping through a bunch of ads, stopping at a particularly nice one of a pretty woman on a lush tropical beach.

"I thought you already had a patient."

"Considering you, House and Cameron all but abandoned me, I was able to refer her to someone else once I came up with a brilliant diagnosis."

Chase smiled and shook his head, already missing the good times of competitive differential games.

"What's so amusing?" Foreman asked, confused by the reaction.

"Law of averages. I guess you were due one."

"Ha, ha." Foreman went back to his reading.

Chase took a few steps toward him, done with House for now. "I hope I'm not taking you from your timely literature," noticing the Time magazine Foreman was reading. "Anything new happen in the world last week?"

Foreman glanced up at Chase, ignoring his joke. "You look like hell."

"Gee thanks. Lots of stress and a sleepless night will do that."

Foreman put his magazine down. "I heard the story as told to Cameron as told from Wilson. It sounds awfully flimsy to me. You want to tell me what really happened?"

"Someday, it'll make a great story over some beers. For right now, it's in your best interest if you don't know."

Foreman wholeheartedly agreed with that. "Go get some sleep. I can watch him."

"Thanks, but I can handle this."

"You and House both are addicted to misery, you know that? He isn't going anywhere and needs you fresh when he wakes up."

Chase ran his hands down his cheeks, realizing it wasn't a bad idea. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm sure I'll have Cameron to keep me company."

"Nope, she's been ordered out, by request of the patient."

Foreman laughed. "I always thought House was a genius."

Chase smiled, took one last look at his slumbering mentor and headed for the door. Just before he stepped through the door frame, he turned around. "Foreman-"

"You're welcome."

Foreman heard the glass close and got up to get a closer look at House. He stared at the mass in front of him with both disdain and pity. "I'm not like you. I would never do such a stupid thing to myself." He turned back around and went back to his reading.

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Wilson chose to be the one to track Cuddy down first before he was officially summoned. Avoiding the inevitable wasn't going to do him any favors.

"He didn't call you?" She asked, closing her office door behind Wilson.

"There's a little bit of stress in the relationship if you remember," Wilson candidly reminded her.

"He went to see Chase instead? Why do I have a hard time believing that? Why do I think this isn't a bad drug allergy?"

"You saw his chart. Was anything in there leading you to believe it wasn't?"

"No," she replied, her voice and spirit deflated.

"Then I suggest you leave it at that. You and I both know the less we know about what House does, the better."

Cuddy dropped onto her sofa, wondering if this entire saga was ever going to end. "I can't fix this."

Wilson took his place next to her. "No, you can't. Neither can I."

Cuddy took in a deep sigh, clutching onto one hand with the other. "After he's done with the detox, I'm going to tell Chase he's off the hook. He doesn't need this nightmare."

"If you want my opinion, I think Chase is the best one to help him. You should ask House. If House doesn't want him to be his doctor anymore, fine, but it should be his call. I think that Chase has surprised him and won't be so quick to dismiss him."

"I hope so. I think what Chase is doing is incredible."

Wilson got up. "Try not to worry for now. He's going to be out for a while."

There was a knock on the door. Both glanced over to see Tritter on the other end. "Don't worry, huh?" Cuddy said.

"It's never a dull moment with House, is it?" Wilson looked at Cuddy with a sign of solidarity, and went to let Tritter in.

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House had enough experience to know when his mind was coming out of a chemically enhanced haze. The feeling was often one of the worst, but it was also one of the most reassuring. He wasn't dead. "These drug induced comas are getting old."

"I know I'm getting tired of your constant drama," Chase quipped, never lifting his head from his book.

House cracked a small smile. Perfect comeback. "So what's the verdict doctor? Am I going to live?"

"You're dying. Just not fast enough."

"Aren't we all?"

House took a good look at the dark circles sweeping in perfect curves under Chase's eyes. Even when tired, his features were stunning. House was quickly disturbed. The drugs were definitely causing him to notice things he otherwise would choose to ignore. "How many nurses have been in here to make sure you're okay?"

Chase smiled. "About twenty."

House gave him a sharper stare. "You're lying, aren't you?"

"Yep. More like ten."

With each second House's senses became sharper. He soon realized he was tired of the banter. "How about telling me what the plan is now?"

"Why? You never wanted to hear it before."

House swallowed, feeling the dry discomfort of his irritated throat. "I don't need to apologize for my actions."

"I don't expect you to."

"Then what are you expecting?"

Chase slammed his book shut and glared at House with contempt. "I expect you to start acting like a grownup. Once again, you were bailed out of a jam by someone that was actually concerned for your well being. You have to know that at some point your support network will fail you and you'll be left to deal with your own mess."

House wasn't impressed. "I thought lecturing someone like they were a two year old was beneath you."

Chase stood up abruptly. "Maybe it's because I'm too tired and punchy to control myself, or maybe it's because Tritter is camped outside waiting for first opportunity to ambush me all because you're an irresponsible jerk. If anyone had a lecture coming, it was you."

Chase hoped for some type of reaction, but only got House's blank stare with no answer. He had enough. He went over to the sliding door and opened it.

"Oh, by the way, you're welcome." Chase left the room, harshly closing the door behind him.

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a/n: Next chapter is very likely the last one, although it could go to a chapter 7. I am sometimes guilty of writing too much. Thanks for reading!