A/N: They just started showing House again here, so yay! Just saw the episode 'The Down Low' – so funny – and can't way to see the next one. I still can't get over House pretending that he and Wilson were a couple; classic! Anyway, since I've finally seen that episode I am going to say that everything in it did indeed come to pass before this story's beginning is set.

Wow, thanks a heap for all the reviews, they've really made me feel a lot better about this story.

There was something I wanted to point out, though. I've noticed that some people seem to think that Thirteen was doing alcohol and drugs whilst she was pregnant which wasn't the case at all. Rather, she resorted back to those things as a coping method after she got the abortion. I probably should have made that more obvious so sorry.

Also, there are flashbacks in this story that originally I had written intending to put in much later on but they seemed to fit more here. I hope they work out.

. . .

"Joey: The only way two people can keep a secret is if both of them are dead.

Lawyer: You mean if one of them is dead. That's the saying.

Joey: Obviously we come from different neighbourhoods."

- The Black Donnellys

House gazed in on Thirteen through the hospital room's glass window. She was sleeping soundly in bed, probably the only good shut-eye she'd had in a long time and only possible because of the sleeping pills she'd practically been force fed. A nurse had given her a physical not long after she'd come around following her collapse and concluded – after doing a short history – that the young doctor must be experiencing a case of septic abortion. The brunette was just unlucky enough for that to be so.

She'd already taken the desired dose of medication and would be free to go home once she woke up again. All in all, she would be fine.

So why was he so worried?

There really was no need to be, especially since she was just Thirteen, so why was he still outside her hospital room waiting patiently for her to wake up? House concluded, somewhat bitterly, that it must have something to do with the two fellows he'd already lost in the previous years. It was getting to about that time of year where one of his ducklings was expected to go six feet under.

He'd felt for sure it would be Chase this year, though. The guy would die of alcohol abuse (an unhealthy habit he'd picked up after Cameron's departure). House already had his speech for the funeral planned.

There was the sound of footsteps and House looked over to see a confused Foreman approaching. This was bound to get interesting.

The other doctor took one look at him, one look at Thirteen through the window and then turned back to House with an accusing expression as if he suspected that he was somehow responsible for this. "Why is Thirteen in a hospital room?"

"The question you should be asking is not, 'Why is Thirteen in a hospital room?' but rather, 'Why is Thirteen in one and I didn't know anything about it?' Trust me, the answer is far more interesting." He paused, reconsidering. "Maybe. They're both really juicy, actually," he informed him with a wink.

Foreman remained unimpressed. "What happened?"

"Jeeze, what didn't happen?" House replied enthusiastically, happy for the chance to mess with Foreman. "Thirteen was pregnant. You were the father. She got an abortion. Now she's experiencing septic abortion. But, really, she should be fine."

For a moment, all Foreman could do was stare at him, eyes wide and uncomprehending. House was beginning to think that he still didn't understand what was going on and, really, there was nothing more the older man could do to spell it out for him. "You're joking?"

House frowned, eyeing Forman's head in a fruitless effort to check whether there really was a brain in there. "Do I look like I'm joking? Wait, stupid question. Does the sight of your ex-girlfriend in a hospital bed give the impression that I'm joking?"

Finally, the information seemed to sink in and Forman took a step back, stunned. He craned his head to look in on Thirteen who was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the drama that was unfolding right outside her room. House couldn't wait for when she woke up and for the fireworks that would ensue. He was definitely getting front row seats.

"She was pregnant?" he murmured, still focused on Thirteen.

"Do I need to draw a diagram?" Despite his snarky comment, House did feel a twinge of sympathy for the other guy.

Finally, Foreman turned back to face him, face creased in disbelief. "She terminated it?"

The teasing disappeared from the crippled-man's expression and he nodded soberly. A flash of anger mixed with pain appeared in the other man's eyes before quickly disappearing. He spared one last glance back at Thirteen before stalking off, muttering as he went, "I have to go run some tests."

Of course, House could have done the nice humanitarian thing and explained the whole situation to him and the reasoning behind Thirteen's decision, but what was the fun in that?

. . .

"I think that if you know someone's good, you know it in your belly. And you trust that if they had to do something, they had no other choice."

- Helen Donnelly from 'The Black Donnellys'

Chase watched his friend curiously as Foreman dug his fork into his cafeteria food in a particularly violent fashion. He winced sympathetically as a piece of lamb was skewered and torn in half. It was times like these that he was eternally grateful to be human and not something that wound up on one's plate – Foreman's knife grated against the plate with a sickening noise; eternally grateful.

"You're in a good mood," the blonde commented blithely.

Foreman stilled in his actions, closed his eyes as if debating whether or not to speak, and opened his mouth. "Did you know Thirteen was pregnant?"

Chase, who had just taken a sip of his coffee (which turned out to be of a scalding temperature), promptly spat out a mouthful. Luckily, the onslaught missed the other man's head by a millimetre and only a small amount splattered across his tie. Foreman didn't look very impressed with his response. "Where did that come from?" the blonde sputtered.

Foreman sighed and rubbed his forehead. "House just told me Thirteen was pregnant."

Robert eyed him in confusion. "'Was'?"

"She had an abortion." Another sigh. "Or so he says."

The blonde nodded, taking that in; that definitely sounded like House. All of a sudden, the 'oddness' Thirteen had been displaying lately started to make sense and Robert nearly kicked himself for his obliviousness – It really had been pretty obvious. All the mornings she kept running out of House's office to make a beeline for the bathroom; the round of drinks she'd turned down when they'd been celebrating thanksgiving; that little bit of weight she'd added on; all of it started making appearances in his head.

Not to mention . . .

Huh.

"And you think you're the father?" he asked in a deceivingly casual tone of voice, being sure to push the offending cup of coffee away from himself. God, he missed Australian tea; they just couldn't make it the way he liked in America. He shuddered, remembering the day he'd first arrived in the states and made the mistake of wandering into a diner and ordering earl gray tea. He'd been given a paper cup meant for milkshakes and some organic tea bag. Obviously, the rest of the tea making had been left up to his little mind. It hadn't gone well.

Chase was sure that somewhere out there, there was a coffee shop that excelled at making tea. He just hadn't found it yet.

Realizing that he was getting a bit off topic, the doctor returned his gaze to his friend. Coming to terms with the fact that this was a serious situation, he plastered on a concerned expression.

"According to House," Foreman answered with a nod of his head. "I just . . . don't understand why she didn't tell me. I could have been there for her, helped her out . . . I don't know."

Chase nodded in a very understanding manner and popped a chip in his mouth. "This is Thirteen we're talking about. She doesn't tell anybody anything." Both men nodded in unison, completely agreeing with the well-known fact. "You should talk to her, though. Don't take House's word on anything. If she aborted you're kid, then I'm sure she had a good reason." Probably anyway; you never could tell with women. "She's self-destructive; not an idiot."

Eric nodded his head slowly, mulling that over. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course, I am. It's me we're talking about," the blonde responded, taking another fry. "Just talk to her, mate. Everything will be explained. And, for the love of God, don't listen to anything that comes out of House's mouth." Chase had learnt that lesson the hard way.

….

"It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Night Before

Chase sighed as Thirteen burrowed her head into the crook of his neck and he hefted her up a little higher in his arms. She was drunk, very drunk. Probably drunker then he'd ever seen her before. When the blonde had come into the bar (sometimes pub)/ club – the two places were conjoined – he hadn't expected to find her there, mostly because in all the times he'd been getting together with her he'd never seen her take one sip of alcohol. He still didn't know why that was.

Obviously, tonight was different, though, because Remy was definitely drunk.

He frowned at Greg who was watching Thirteen with a slightly guilty smile. He didn't know much about the guy but in the two times that he and Thirteen had come in here together – for dinner – he knew that the bartender had a past with the young doctor and they knew each other well. Chase had decided against enquiring into that past, mostly because he knew Remy would never give him a straight answer and also because doing so would mean that he cared about her, might even suggest that they were in an actual relationship. Which they weren't.

Then again, opting to take her drunken-ass home sounded pretty relationship worthy. No doubt she would be angry with him about it tomorrow. Still, it wasn't like he could just leave her here.

"Any idea what brought this on?" Chase enquired, jerking his head slightly at Thirteen who seemed to have found something to focus on in the stripes of his shirt collar.

"Not a clue. Couldn't get a word out of her," Greg replied. "Stubborn little firecracker. But she did seem to be in a bad way when she first showed up. You guys didn't get in a fight, did yah?"

Chase shook his head. "For the last time, Greg, we're not together."

The bartender scoffed and whipped the towel off his shoulder, choosing to wipe down the bar with it. Some girl had spilt a martini there during the night and Greg decided that now was as good a time as any to clean it up. "Seem pretty together to me."

The blonde frowned but decided it would be a waste of time to protest any further. "Has she payed yet?"

"Nope."

"Put it on my tab?"

"You got it," he replied easily, gazing at the table top as he made a carefree wipe. He glanced up at the young Australian and tried to put on his best 'intimidation' face. "You just take care of that girl, though, won't yah? A lot of people will be out for my hide if anything happens to her on my watch. And, trust me, these people have a way of finding out. Or, at least, they did when I was back in high school."

The blonde nodded, "I'll keep it in mind," and turned to leave, the soft snoring on his neck the only sign that his companion had otherwise left him for the land of dreamtime. He smiled affectionately, cupping the back of her head, and carried her out of the bar.

…

Chase frowned in concern as he set Thirteen down on her bed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and crouching down in front of her on the floor. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused – the blonde didn't need to guess why – and his frown deepened. He just couldn't work it out. The doctor had been on the straight and narrow for over a year now, so why the sudden turn?

"Hey, Rem," Chase started, cupping her face and catching her gaze. "What's going on? What's up?" Thirteen's eyes welled and she glanced away. "Hey, you can tell me. It'll be just between us."

The brunette just shook her head and looked back at him, lips clamped tightly shut. "I can't . . .I . . ."

And the next thing Robert knew he had a handful of hot young doctor in his arms and Remy was burying her head in the space between his neck and shoulder. The next thing he noticed were the tears, hot and wet against his skin, and then the shaking of her shoulders as she sobbed.

He had never seen Remy Hadley cry before and was shocked to be seeing it now, even more so because she had chosen him to do it in front of. Whatever was going on, it must be serious for to react like this and his concern grew.

Making a decision, Chase rose from his position on the floor and clambered up onto the bed, being extra careful not to let go of Thirteen. Then, gently, he guided her onto his lap and held her. Chase wrapped his arms tightly around her and rubbed her back as she cried, smoothing out her hair.

He didn't know what this was about and was even less sure whether he wanted to know but for now he knew she was at least safe – instead of alone in some dingy bar/nightclub she was safe – and that was enough; even if she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning and perhaps that was better, for both of them.

All the while he tried to ignore the tear in his heart, a response to seeing her like this. Admitting that it was there was like admitting he cared more about her than he should and he wasn't ready for that, not yet. He wasn't ready to care for another person like that – not after Allison – neither of them was.

. . .

As soon as Foreman left the table, Chase allowed his nonchalant mask to slip and he frowned, leaning back in his seat in a state of disbelief. The events of the night before raced through his mind and he blinked as everything finally seemed to add up. Yes, the fact that Thirteen had been pregnant explained a lot.

. . .

A/N: Uh, I hope this wasn't too bad. I was very anxious about making Thirteen break down like that in this chapter considering it is, after all, Thirteen but eventually I managed to convince myself (don't know how) that she was drunk enough for something like that to happen. Hope it wasn't too unrealistic.

Love, love, love reviews and very much appreciate any criticism as it can help me to improve. Also, if anyone wanted me to put something in particular into this story, like a scene, don't hesitate to suggest. I'm not promising I will put it in but if I can manage to work it in then I will. It doesn't even have to do with Thirteen if you want something to happen with any of the other characters tell me.