Disclaimer: I don't own House…except maybe the whiteboard
Notes: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! I appreciate them so much and they always inspire me!
I feel in this chapter the characters may be a bit off character, if they are let me know and I'll try to fix it.
Keep reviewing and thanks for reading!
Ps- thanks caffinebunny for catching my mistake…im such a rookie:)
Whomsoever I've cured, I've sickened now. Whomsoever I've cradled, I've put you down–"Fell on Black Days by Soundgarden"
He was on fire. His entire chest was on fire. He wanted nothing at the moment but to end it. End the pain. Every pump his heart gave, the more the pain pounded, the more he couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream, to yell out his anguish but the pain prevented him. It was holding him back.
He tried to remember what caused the pain…he struggled through his memories, trying to ignore each piercing sting in his chest. House. Man. Gun. He gasped.
"He's been stabilize…" he heard a female voice said.
"Quick, transfer some blood into his system and make sure that wound does not start up again…" he heard a strong male voice ordered. Chase tried to open his eyes but he was too tired to. He could feel the ache in his chest sustaining, did they give him morphine? He tried to ignore everything when the memory came flooding back to him:
He was walking away from House, annoyed with the situation. Why did House always have to torment him? He always picked on him more than Foreman and Cameron. Maybe he was just jealous of his "pretty hair". Chase rolled his eyes at his own dumb humor. He ducked behind a truck and saw a man slouching slightly beside it, eyes on the lookout, as if waiting for someone. Chase almost would have missed him, he was in the shadows, and the parking lights were enough for him to see the outline of him. Suddenly, Chase's instinct arose in him telling him that this man was dangerous and to keep walking and not to bother him. But something else kept nagging at him. Who could the man be waiting for? He quickly glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see to follow the man's waiting interest. It landed on House's motorcycle and House was going to be limping there any second now. He slowed his pace and saw that the man had one of his hands hidden beneath his jacket.
Chase watched too many cop shows to know what the man could be hiding there. Move Chase's mind told him, Move! Chase quickly dipped behind the car and circled around hoping to get to House in time to warn him, or at least distract him back into the building. He stopped as he heard the menacing voice.
"Gregory House?"
Damn, damn, move faster! Chase circled around the second car to see the man's angry face. Using the shadows as his advantage, he gained ground towards House, hoping that maybe he could pull him and drag him away in time.
"Who?" he heard House reply and Chase groan inwardly as he heard the hint of sarcasm in it. Why did House always have to provoke people? It was almost as if he was asking for it; maybe the man just had a death wish. "Oh damn, must've parked in the wrong spot today…" Chase made himself a promise that if this guy did not kill House, Chase was going to kill him instead for being such a dumbass. But the man's smirk cause Chase to move quicker and he went to tackle the older man. He winced as he snapped House's cane and he winced as he slammed House's dead leg to the ground and landed on top of it. But he was surprise that he didn't wince earlier at the bullet that had smacked into him, which threw him slightly off balance. Due to that, he had smacked into House's motorcycle, causing it to tip over. He watched as the man widened his eyes. Heh, probably because he missed his original target. As the man started to run away, that's when it hit him. The pain. It overwhelmed him and Chase grabbed the wound. Shit…shit…Chase tried to control himself, it wasn't that bad he tried to convince himself. Just a little gunshot wound…His ears started to buzz as his body started to go into shock. Damn. He flitch as he felt added pressure on his chest. He glanced down to see House's hands above his own. But too much blood was oozing out that it was covering both of their hands. Darkness…Chase just wanted to fall back into the darkness.
"Damn it Chase!" he heard House yell, "Stay with me!"
Sorry House…but for once…I'm not obeying your order…Chase reached for the darkness…there was going to be no pain there…
"He's crash-coding!"
"Quick, bring me that crash cart!"
"Damn it, we're losing him…"
There was a high-tone beeping and then it slowed into a steady long tone…
"Shit…give me the paddles!'
It was as if he heard them from another world. It didn't matter to him, only the internal pain-less darkness did. He kept wanting to grasp it but something held him back…wait…he made a promise…he had to keep it.
Damn you House.
I still have to kill you.
For being such a fricken dumbass.
--
The pain in his leg finally subsided. House inhaled softly in relief. The cops were done taking his statement, House was thankful for that since they had his, they wouldn't need Chase's. The kid didn't need anyone pressuring him when he's trying to heal…that is…if…House stopped himself, he wasn't going to go down that route. That stupid Aussie was still alive.
He was sitting in Cuddy's office, waiting to hear about Chase's condition. He would have barged in during surgery to help, but Cuddy somehow managed to convince him to stay. The dark-brown curly hair woman was still outside talking to the officers. They had caught the man who had shot Chase. Apparently, he was House's former patient. The man had admitted himself into Plainsboro Princeton Teaching Hospital because he believed that he had cancer. He was a good money donator so Cuddy immediately gave his case over to House. It was only two days when House discovered that it was not cancer but an environmental factor. He cured the man and sent him home. Obviously, either the man did not believe he was truly cured or he had a disturbing way of saying thanks.
House popped in another Vicodin and dry swallowed it. It had been a long night…long and stressful…and it wouldn't have been if Chase…He bolted from his thoughts as the door opened. Instead of Cuddy, his "I have no idea why we're friends" friend Wilson walked in.
"I heard what happened," Wilson closed the door behind him to quiet the loud chattering among the clinic. "How is he?"
"Dead…" he paused for a moment as Wilson filled it with a small gasp, "When I'm through with him…"
Wilson was close to strangling House for his sick joke but paused as he saw the true concern in his eyes. He would never admit it to House, and the cynic man would deny it anyway, but Wilson could always catch House's true emotions in his eyes…but only at certain times. The man was heavily guarded, even the mirror of the soul were guarded well.
"It's true than…"Wilson sat on the couch across from his friend, "Chase took a bullet for you?"
"I have no idea what they taught him down under, " House growled, "But the stupid wombat should have better common sense than to go diving in front of a bullet."
Wilson hid a small sad smile, "You know he's not stupid, you are just confused because you can't understand why he did it."
House waved a hand to push the comment aside. He ran it through his face and then through his hair. He exhaled softly, he hated that Wilson could read him sometimes. But right now…he was more angry and confused at someone else. He stopped as he paused to look at his hands…moments earlier they were covered in Chase's blood. It was so weird washing it off of him, it seemed no matter how many times he scrubbed, the blood wouldn't come off. House could swear that he felt that the blood was still there, even if he couldn't see it. Chase's blood…House clenched his hands into fists, damn him…it was suppose to be his own blood. That way he wouldn't feel so guilty, he wouldn't feel like he now owed Chase…two. He heard Wilson say something and he looked back up at him.
"What?"
"I ask you where your cane was." Wilson had an eyebrow raised as he scanned the room for it, "You didn't run after the guy who did this and beat him up did you?"
I wish House wanted to say but instead he said, " It's broken…the young Britain snapped it when he pushed me…not to mention knock my beautiful motorcycle over…kids these days…they got no respect saving someone's life."
"Yah…"Wilson decided to play along, he knew House needed this. Sometimes House joked because it was just a mask to cover up how he was truly feeling, "They have no appreciation of their senior citizens…"
"Hey…" House lightly snapped, "I'm not that old…"
They were silence for a moment and both slightly jumped as the door opened to reveal Cuddy. It seemed as if she aged overnight, she looked as old as she looked when she was on the stand defending House, as old as she did when he was admitted in the hospital for his infraction. Her face was somber and she weakly smiled. House tensed, preparing for the worse.
"He's stable." House let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding, "He coded two times in the emergency room. But they brought him back both times, they don't know if it affected anything. He was…" she paused and closed her eyes. Her voice cracked as she continued, it was almost House in that room, "…shot…just below the collarbone on the left side of his chest…it managed to fracture his collarbone and his shoulder bone."
House sat in silence. He knew what they were thinking but he didn't like it. Wilson and Cuddy were almost broken up because they knew it was almost him in there, he hoped that soon that they would care that it was Chase. The kid deserved the praised and the concern more than he did.
"How long will he be out for?" he heard Wilson ask. He looked up at Cuddy as she pulled her hair behind her ear.
"Probably until tomorrow…you both should go home," indicating more towards House, "get some sleep and come back refreshed tomorrow."
"No…" House slowly stood up and limped with heavy effort to get to the door, "I'm going to wait for him to wake up…so that I can see for myself that he's alive…"
"House…you know that… just believe me and go home," Cuddy pleaded.
House reached for the door handle, "I have to see." He stared at Cuddy and Wilson with a serious face, "So that I can kill him for being such a dumbass…"
