Last revision was made today you guys :). The story is no flowing the way I want it to. PLEASE REVIEW
The day went by slow for Wilson and he was finally glad to know that it was time for him to leave. Nearly exiting the building, Wilson was surprised to see Chase, with a heavy jacket on, leaning his head against the front of a drink vending machine. He seemed to be slightly tapping his forehead against the glass. Oddly enough, as Wilson inched closer, he realized that Chase was mumbling to himself. He could make out a few swear words and inquiries to himself.
"Chase?" Wilson asked a bit surprised and relieved at the same time. There were millions of questions Wilson wanted to ask at that very moment. What was he doing here at this time of night? Are you alone? Are you coming tomorrow? His mind profusely poured a number of questions he's been dying to ask him all day. The darker questions, however, laid at bay in his mind. He dared not ask Chase because he didn't want to see him upset after not meeting with him for a long time.
While he was thinking of what to say, he realized how awkward he had made this particular encounter. He had called Chase's name, walked up to him, and greeted the poor man with awkward staring for about five minutes. It was by this time that he realized that Chase had been staring at him as well, head still rested on the vending machine. For how long, Wilson didn't know. But he wanted to make his intentions seem casual despite his true purposes. Wilson regained his composure and then decided to ask the most appropriate question for the current situation.
"Why were you banging your head against the vending machine?" He tried to make his tone sound playful, which was something Wilson was really bad at. You don't exactly need a playful tone when informing someone that he or she had cancer, so he was usually serious, doubtful, or sympathetic in his tone. Regardless, he tried his best not to intimidate nor interrogate Chase. Those are things he did with House.
"The soda… s'one fifty." He said with an exasperated tone.
Wilson looked down at Chase's hands. There was a half eaten Butterfinger chocolate bar along with four pennies and a nickle in his left hand. The other was rubbing the back of his medium length blonde hair. Wilson noticed a red marking braceleted around his wrist but he refused to ask what caused it. He was pretty sure that he didn't want to know. Chase looked tired. No, tired wasn't the right word for it. Chase looked worn out and fatigued. Wilson realized that Chase was leaning against the vending machine more because his physical state of energy at the moment rather than frustration. Regardless, Chase still smiled at Wilson's presence; his smile was weak but it was a smile nonetheless and that was all that Wilson wanted.
Wilson looked at the small letters at the vending machine: one twenty five.
"I thought I had another quarter," Chase said with a defeated laugh. And even though he was obviously exhausted he was still able to make Wilson warm with his cute Australian accent.
Wilson reached into his pocket and gave him another quarter to help Chase out with the situation which the blonde man accepted without hesitation. With more clicks on the buttons of the vending machine, Chase pulled out a Gatorade and opened it quickly. Wilson was astounded by the younger man's determination to make a meal from vending machine items. Was he really that hungry? Surely he didn't come to the hospital at eight o'clock at night just to eat junk food. This thought led Wilson to his next question.
"What are you doing here at this time of night?" Wilson asked more out of empathy than curiosity. Chase looked like crap. His skin was paler and there were dark circles under his slightly swollen eyes.
At first it seemed like Chase wasn't going to answer as his blink lasted longer than normal but then he straightened his posture after taking a last bite of the Butterfinger and then said, "I missed work today." –that Wilson already knew. "I was hoping to catch Cuddy to give her an explanation before her leaving time."
"The explanation being…?" Wilson inquired, trying to put a playful tone to it again but with a failed attempt.
Chase said, "fever," as if he hadn't felt like going into detail of his absence. Or maybe because he couldn't make up any details to his excuse at the moment.
Great. Now he was giving the same damn story that Foreman had given earlier. "Cuddy has already left." Wilson said quite irritated but trying now to show it. More disappointed than anything. Why couldn't Chase just tell him what was happening to him? "You can tell her tomorrow morning."
"Yeah..." Chase replied. His tone and facial expression gave Wilson an inference that he was not planning on coming over to the hospital the next day as well. Chase seemed to notice and changed the subject. "Where are you headed to now?" he asked.
"I was just gonna go take some takeout. You want some?"
"I don't have any money," Chase admitted.
"I'll pay for it," he said almost immediately after, smiling at the innocence of Chase's confession.
After a long pause and one long moment of hesitation, Chase finally answered with a single nod. He followed Wilson outside into the bone chilling weather followed by squeaking of the hospital's tiled floor. Wilson looked down at Chase's shoes. That's must be the reason why Chase looked so tired. He had walked to the hospital…in the cold and snowy weather he walked.
Wilson drove into the restaurant, ordered what they wanted, and decided to eat in the car to make Chase stay in the car for as long as possible. Chase rarely talked the whole time. In fact, he seemed pretty nervous and had finished his meal a lot faster than usual. Wilson shrugged it off as him being hungry from lack of food which was something he couldn't prove because he wasn't with him all day. Wouldn't he have had time to eat at the apartment? He knew that House wasn't the best at keeping up with food in the apartment they both lived in but Chase was somehow hindered to do so.
"You hadn't eaten?" Wilson asked.
Chase shook his head. "I was really nauseous. I'm actually surprised that I can keep this down."
That night Wilson felt his soul fill with warmth as he helped Chase out, but was filled with dread as he watched their paths diverge. Knowing that Chase had walked the lengthy route to his and House's apartment made him upset. Chase had refused to accept a car ride there. That night Wilson couldn't sleep. The unconscious solace was something he didn't want to break with another nightmare that was sure to come.
UPDATE IN FEW DAYS
