"Every Year..." A House MD fanfic :-) - (6 Parts)

[crazy_cat_girl]

Title: Every Year...

Fandom: House MD- The best show in the world!

Disclaimer: I don't own House MD characters nor do I profit from writing about them.

Summary: Chase is drinking alone and House is curious. Chase is sick and House, as usual, makes matters worse.

Authors Notes: Long time, no writing! I have been so busy with my classes ending. I graduate in five weeks! Anyway, this story is set in season four, so Chase is no longer working for House. There is also some swearing, in case you really aren't comfortable with that.

Thanks so much and enjoy the Chase misery!!! I know I sure do. ;-)

****************************************************************************************

Robert Chase took another bitter swallow from the whiskey in his glass. He felt it trail white hot, over the soreness in the back of his throat, turning his esophagus into a furnace, his stomach into a star-burst.

He clasped his hands and blinked, bleary, down at his amber reflection. It wobbled a bit, either because of the rapidly melting chunks of ice…or rather because this was his forth such drink of the night. He grinned humorlessly at his own low tolerance. The grin faded, his face went slack;

“K’eeshu!”

He jolted with the force of the sneeze, and felt the spray hit his hands, land in his drink. He groaned, and grabbed a brown paper napkin off the table. He blew his already rubbed raw nose, and grimaced at the ugly sound it made. He once again rejoiced the fact that Cameron was out of town, at a conference in Manhattan. He was glad she wasn’t here to witness his rapid and private descent into drunkenness, and that she wouldn’t have to watch him suffer through this miserable cold that he’d picked up somewhere.

He lifted the glass again, and took back another solid swallow.

Perhaps if he drank enough alcohol, he would sanitize his insides, he thought.

He chuckled a little in the back of his throat. Hadn’t House made a joke about that once? Something about me drinking peroxide to make my hair more blonde? God, he was a bastard.

And then he fired me.

Chase took another hefty swallow of the last of the liquid. A familiar voice above asked him:

“What’s an ugly girl like you doing in a nice bar like this?”

And Chase choked.

**************************************************************************************

Gregory House’s curiosity was piqued. When House was curious, there was very little that would stand in the way of his satisfying it. Tact and courtesy were the generally the first things to go.

As he entered the bar that he had begun to frequent (now that Wilson was involved and no longer had time to hang out, traitor), he noticed a shape sitting in the far back that he recognized. A shape that used to work for him.

And what was unusual was that, in all of Chase’s fellowship, House had never seen the younger man drink.

In fact, he had gotten the impression that Chase scorned alcohol and narcotics as a general rule. That mystery had been solved when House had found out about Chase’s dilapidated childhood.

Yet, here he was, nursing what appeared to be an alcoholic beverage with three empty glasses nearby. In a bar that was a substantial distance from the hospital in which he worked—avoiding scrutiny, House thought. And he looked…well, bad. His hair hung in a flap over his eyes and he spent several minutes contemplating his drink before mechanically lifting it to his mouth.

Maybe Cameron had broken it off with him? Or maybe he’d been fired from the surgical staff? An entertaining thought. But the hospital grape-vine was generally quick with such news, and House had heard nothing.

No, it would have to be something truly terrible to drive pious Chase to the devil’s brew.

He slowly made his way over, careful to keep himself out of Chase’s line of sight. After all, wombats and Chases were generally skittish animals that would flee before a confrontation. And we can’t have that… House thought as a smirk gradually lifted the right corner of his mouth.

Chase sputtered, and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth as the wrongly swallowed whiskey created real coughing. He tried to stifle it, his face turning pink.

“Wh---what are you doing here?” He managed, trying to grasp some single strands of his dignity.

“Funny,” House replied, taking the seat in the booth opposite the younger doctor, “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I’m…It’s…That’s my business,” Chase finished lamely. He was trying to think of more to say when the waitress came over to take his empty glass.

”Another?” She asked.

He nodded to her.

She turned to House.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Your phone number?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Right, no number. Well, I guess I’ll have scotch on the rocks. And bring my friend here a cup of coffee.”

Chase looked up, his blue eyes sharp.

“I don’t want any cof-“

But she had already gone. Damn it! All he’d wanted was a little privacy, to get a little buzzed, and to slip off unnoticed to his bed. And here was House, interfering with his life, as usual. Ruining his yearly ritual and threatening to sober him up.

“I would rather drink alone,” Chase said.

“And I would rather drink with Carmen Electra, but it looks like we’re both S.O.L.”

Chase opened his mouth to say something else, and then quickly closed it. He snatched a handful of fresh napkins and clamped them down over his nose and mouth. For extra measure, he turned himself as far from House as he possibly could before:

“Ah-Kngx! K’ESH!”

He blinked twice in the aftermath, then squinted his eyes tight for a third and powerfully wet:

“KAH-ESHUU!”

He blew his nose with a look of pure misery.

“Ugh,” House said, with an appropriate look of disgust and revulsion, “You’re sick.”

That was it. Chase flushed with embarrassment and anger.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone then?” He demanded. “In fact, do you know what the best part about NOT working for you is? That I don’t have to spend an extra second listening to your royal B.S. anymore.”

He stood up, taking his glass with him and swayed a little on his feet.

”Good-bye, House.”

“Aw, come on,” House slid his cane imperceptibly beneath the table to block Chase’s exit from the booth.

He really did it without thinking about it. His cane had become an extension of his arm a long time ago.

“I just wanted to have a drink with my old employee.”

But Chase was didn’t take the bait; he continued trying to stagger out of the booth.

Instead of seeing House’s cane, his foot got tangled and caught up beneath it and before his slightly impaired reflexes could inform his body what to do, he was falling.

He thought he heard House’s shout, but couldn’t stop his momentum.

There was a burst of pain as he fell against a table, giving him a momentary reprieve before it, too crashed beneath him and the floor came up to meet him with concrete sincerity.

Somewhere in the blurred world above him, he heard House say,

“Well, fuck.”

And then Chase lost consciousness.

**************************************************************************

[chui]

*SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*

oh i just LOVE it when House acts like....well, House... this is GREAT!!!!!

dude...you so totally rock!! a poor sick Chase....and a House.... what more could a girl ask for out of life?!?

*flails about more*

i do hope you decide to write a teensy bit more....school willing, of course...and congrats on the impending graduation!!!!

[evelyn]

Thanks so much for this!! I missed my sick Chase! And the setting was a brilliant idea.

I hope there's more coming

[queenie]

Very cute... is there mor? *looks hopeful*

[Glowie]

Yay yay yay! Yummy sick!Chase. *cuddles* Thanks so much, can't wait for more.

[crazy_cat_girl]

Here's some more... :-)

Chase slowly sifted awake. His head hurt immeasurably. I knew I would have a hangover, but this is ridiculous, he thought, with a small moan. He brought his hand up to touch his forehead, and heard a stern voice tell him to stop,

“You cut your hand pretty badly. You fell on your glass.”

He opened his eyes, waited a moment for the colors to sharpen.

He used his other hand to probe the bandage at his temple.

“Ow,” he whispered.

“Well, don’t touch it, Einstein!”

“House!”

Chase recognized Cuddy’s voice through the haze. A pen-light flooded his vision.

“Can you hear me, Chase?”

“Mmmm…I hear you, Dr. Cuddy. What…what happened?” Chase was blinded by the light being shone in his other eye and he shied away from it.

“You don’t remember?”

House’s voice sounded hopeful.

It was that gravelly voice that turned Chase’s mental page, and he recalled the bite of his whiskey, the invasion of his privacy and finally, the fall.

He turned his head and glared at House with surprise and anger.

“You tripped me!”

“You what?!”

Cuddy put her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t trip you... You were intoxicated. You tripped yourself,” House responded, “…On my cane.”

“House. Do you think you could manage to go a week without hurting somebody who works for this hospital?”

“Blame Darwin, not me. It’s not my fault Chase can’t hold his liquor.”

“I can hold my…,” Chase stopped, raised his hand to his face, “Pah…pardon me, I’m going to…” He pinched his nose and stifled,

“huh-kngxt!...ooooh.”

It felt as though his brain was Mt. St. Helens and the sneeze had caused an eruption inside his skull.

He momentarily forgot that Cuddy and House were even there as he waded through that miniature tidal wave of pain.

When he opened his eyes, he saw them both looking at him. Cuddy looked concerned, House looked…unreadable.

”Chase, are you not feeling well? You do look a little flushed,” in a gesture of sincere maternity, Cuddy placed one well manicured hand against the unbandaged part of his brow.

Chase tried not to pull away from her gentle touch.

He was unused to being fussed over and it made him uncomfortable.

It was also getting tougher to ignore the sensation growing in his nose. He definitely didn’t want to sneeze on the Dean of Medicine.

He turned away from her, tucking his face in the crook of his arm. He didn’t dare stifle, not after what it did to his head the first time.

“Heh-KESH! Kah’ESSH!”

He moaned and reached for the little tissue box on his table beside the bed.

His reach fell just short and he made a small sound of frustration before giving into another round of harsh sneezes.

Distracted, he didn’t notice House push the tissue box closer with his cane.

He was simply relieved when he reached over and managed to snag a handful of Kleenex to use. As he discreetly blew his

nose, his blue eyes met Cuddy’s worried ones and he forced a weak smile.

“Bless you,” she said.

“I’mb fine,” he promised.

House regarded him coolly.

“Name,” he said, and Cuddy looked at him with mild annoyance and some genuine surprise.

House was testing the extent of Chase’s head injury.

“Robert Chase.”

“Date of birth?”

“The twentieth of January.”

“The city where you were born?”

“Mel…Melbourne.”

The hesitation was nearly undetectable, but House zeroed in on it. Cuddy glanced at him.

“Today’s date?”

“April the fifth,” Chase said the number with quiet conviction. This date had been seared into his memory more than a decade ago.

“Day of the week?”

That gave Chase pause. He licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“Thurs…Thursday?”

House’s eyebrows rose. He made the sound of a game show buzzer.

“Wrong! Today is Wednesday! But the conciliation prize is a minor head trauma causing disorientation and short term memory loss!”

Cuddy sighed. “We should keep you here for observation, Chase.”

“No! Hey! I had some to drink tonight, I think that is what is impairing my judgment,” Chase said.

He looked at Cuddy, trying to level.

“I am just tired. I just want to spend the night at home and sleep it off.”

He gave her an imploring look.

“Please,” he added. With hope.

“I would only feel safe releasing you if you have someone to stay with you and check up on you every few hours or so.”

He sighed. Could this night get any worse? He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Allison is out of town for a few days. I…I don’t…I don’t have…” he lifted the wad of Kleenex to his face and, “heh…Kah-esshu! Esh-shuu! K’EESH!”

He paused as though he expected more, and he shivered slightly, caught there in the limbo between sneezes.

“There’s no one,” he finished, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic as he thought it did.

One more unexpected sneeze escaped him and he barely caught it against the fabric of his sleeve. It was a desperate sounding “K’eesh!” that rocked his slender frame.

“Bless you,” Cuddy said. She meant it.

Gregory House felt a wave of something both unfamiliar and unwanted.

Guilt washed over his core like a tinted tide, and he tried hard to ignore it.

It was his fault that Chase had wound up on the floor of that bar, it was his cane that had caused the fall.

And Chase was sounding sicker and sicker by the minute, accompanied by the embarrassment and withdrawn anxiety that House so well recognized in his once youngest fellow.

He was stuck here unless…

“I’ll stay with him.”

Cuddy turned to House, wide-eyed.

“You’ll what?”

“You’ll what?” Chase echoed.

“You heard me,” House grumbled, his gaze fidgeting somewhere on the floor tiles.

He glanced up and saw Chase staring at him, slack-jawed.

“Well, get your coat. Let’s go.”

Cuddy watched as Chase slowly put on his coat, looking dark and confused. He got up and, carefully, followed House’s limp-step out of the room.

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Hope you enjoyed! More to come!

[chui]

im grinning like a weiner over here at House and his sprouting of guilt...oh this is positively yummy!! great job, as always!!!

[matilda3948]

[estrelleta]

Ohhhhhh so good, so good! Thanks a lot, can't wait to read more!!

E x

[lalaland~]

I have one word to say for this "Yummy!"

i loved it ^^ and Chase is

[evelyn]

WOW! That was HOT!

Can't wait for the next part

[crazy_cat_girl]

Here's a little bit more...

I am just trying to tie up some loose ends at school...AND manage to get through a grueling tech week--ugh! But fortunately, I have visions of little sniffly Chases to keep me occupied!

So much for privacy, Chase thought as he boarded the elevator. He leaned against the cold metal side-rail. He gave House a quick glance and cleared his throat.

“I…I have a pull-out couch…and some extra linens…” He began awkwardly.

House snorted and Chase stopped.

“I have no intention to actually stay with you, Chase. You’re a big boy with a big boy medical degree. I was giving you an out since I assume you don’t want to stay here at the hotel Princeton Plainsboro. Besides,”

He said as the doors opened,

“The catering here sucks.”

“House.”

The older man sighed and turned around.

Chase smiled slightly, looking worse for wear in the dim orange light of the parking garage.

“Thanks.”

House said nothing and quickened his pace towards the car.

*****************************************************************************

In the quiet confines of House’s car, Chase was trying extraordinarily hard not to sneeze.

He knew that House was some what intolerant and repulsed by other people’s illnesses and he didn’t want to share his worsening cold condition with the man who had rescued him from a long night on a flat hospital bed.

Each time the sensation started, he pinched tight at the bridge of his nose and it disappeared.

Finally, the feeling overwhelmed him and he knew he was going to-

“Heh-kah-ehsuu!”

He had turned himself as far towards the window as he could in a seat belt and doubled in on himself, as though it were something highly dangerous, a bomb.

House’s lip curled in minute disgust, but at the same time, some annoying tendril of pity urged him to say something.

He couldn’t force himself to say the entire phrase, the “you” got trapped behind his mouth, but he managed to get out a not-too-irritated, “Bless.”

Chase looked at him, one sleeve over his mouth and nose.

“Thank you,” unable to keep surprise out of his voice.

“Whatever,” House didn’t look at him, but reached across to open the glove compartment.

He pulled out a cellophane wrapped package of tissues and tossed them into Chase’s lap before slamming the compartment shut again.

Chase made a sound of gratitude and tore into the package the way a child would a Christmas present. He gave a long

gurgling blow, and then sighed with relief.

House looked bemused. “That’s disgusting,” he said.

“Thanks,” Chase said. He leaned his head against the window, enjoying the coolness against his hot and hurting head.

He closed his eyes against the bright white of street lights.

(Sorry, like I said, only a little bit. More soon, though, I promise!)

[chui]

ok...im still giggling and drooling over this...it just keeps getting better and better!!!! hon, you ROCK big time!!!

[Vetinari]

Well this is very nice. I hope Chase will continue to sniffle in your head a bit longer....

[queenie]

Pretty. Maybe that's not the right word, but... artfully done, at least. It isn't House/sneezyWilson, but... it'll do. XP. This is fantastic, hoping for more soon.

[evelyn]

:) That one sneeze was just perfect! I'm waiting for the next part, not that you don't know

[crazy_cat_girl]

Here's a tiny bit more. I have to write two research papers so I am sorry for the lapse!

“Chase.”

House pushed the younger man’s shoulder.

“Chase. Wake up.”

He gave a slightly harder push.

Chase’s head bumped against the window and he woke with a small hiss of pain. His hand flew up to his face to linger on the bandage.

“Sorry,” House muttered. “We’re here.”

“Oh,” Chase said, voice dull. His fingers fumbled around the seat belt clasp, but were unable to figure out the right motion to get it undone.

House stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Name,” he said, scrutinizing Chase’s face.

“Huh?”

“Your name.”

“Rob…Robert.”

“Good.”

House depressed Chase’s seat belt button and it released.

Chase brought his good hand to his face and covered his eyes, swallowing a little thickly.

“What’s the matter, now?” House asked.

“…not….not feeling well…” Chase responded.

“Feel sick?”

Chase nodded, slowly.

Nausea, House thought. But there were too many variable causes. It could be the alcohol, whatever bug Chase had, or it could be the concussion…he couldn’t be sure which one. And if it were the latter, than Chase’s condition was getting worse. Which would go un-noticed if no one was around to monitor his behavior for the next few hours.

Damn it.

“Alright, let’s go,” House said, unbuckling his own belt and stepping out of the car, “Don’t need you blowing chunks on my leather interior.”

Chase opened his door, got out, and immediately stumbled.

House limped over in order to plant a grounding hand on Chase’s upper arm.

“Easy!” He snapped, “unless you want to end up on the ground for the second time tonight.”

House used his cane to close the car door behind them.

“Where are your keys?” He asked and waited while Chase fished them out like a sloth.

House snatched them impatiently and half-guided Chase to the Aussie’s own front door.

“You’re coming in?” Chase asked.

“Isn’t it proper to offer me tea and biscuits, my good chap?” House replied in a mock British accent as he opened the door.

It had the desired effect.

Chase rolled his eyes and removed himself from House’s support.

Good, he was coming out of it then. At least, a little.

Chase immediately went in the direction of the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. As he turned on the tap and reached for a cup, House helped himself to a long sweeping glance of Chase’s apartment.

It was nicely decorated but nothing frilly, no feminine touches.

That would seem right as Allison Cameron probably rarely spent much time here.

House speculated that little bits of “Chase” were all over her apartment though. Boxer shorts, tooth-brush, hair gels, ties.

It probably drove her crazy, he thought with a half grin.

But to stay overnight at his apartment would be sacrificing some of her precious independence.

There was a black leather sofa with brown wooden legs, dark red throw pillows, a nice imitation Oriental carpet.

Askew on the coffee table was an open album, some pieces fluttering out of it. It captured House’s attention immediately because it wasn’t a piece of bric-a-brac or a conversation starter.

There was something personal about it, and the state of disorganization it was in.

It beckoned.

Chase coughed, interrupting temptation.

“Would you like anything…some coffee? Or…,” he trailed off, suddenly looking as though speech were too heavy a burden,

each word fueling an increasing exhaustion.

He turned his pale oval face up to the light, his mouth slightly open and,

“K’essh! K’eesh! K’EESH!” He sneezed into his cupped palm, the spray misting around it like a faint silver cloud.

He stayed doubled over for a few seconds, breathing hard as though the exertion had taken his last shreds of strength.

House watched him for a few seconds.

“Well…that was appetizing.”

Chase looked up, for a moment his blue eyes unbelievably vulnerable…hurt? It only lasted a flash before his face took on that close mouthed, stony complexion that House was so familiar with.

If House’s mind didn’t calculate observations to the iota of a second, he might have missed that momentary lapse in Chase’s emotional block. Now, why would that happen? What was it that was getting under Chase’s skin?

Before House could formulate a less invasive way to get his questions answered, Chase turned his back on him.

“I’m going to bed. Thanks for the ride. I am sure that you can see yourself out,” he said, and walked into his room closing the door behind him.

[chui]

ooooh...very nice! i wonder whats in that album!?!

[Lynne]

I've never watched this show, but I'd really like to! Fantastic story so far!

[starpollen]

I do know the show and I love this - cute blonde guy with accent is right up my alley. Please do post more when possible. :-)

[evelyn]

First I thought: NO! She can't finish it here! I seriously adore this story. However, research papers are research papers. And to be honest, I can understand your lack of time...I'm in the middle of writing 4 research papers at the moment. I doubt I ever finish them...

Anyway, I hope you're doing better because I can't wait to read more!!!!

[queenie]

Beautiful as always. Lovely characterization, adore House's sarcastic running monologue. And hurt!Chase is very adorable also.

[crazy_cat_girl]

A bit more. I got really into this part... Anyway, hope you enjoy it... More to come. Don't worry, more House soon.

Chase sat heavily and started removing his shoes.

His head throbbed mercilessly, like a finger tapping on the bandaged part of his brow.

His throat hurt now, too, and his nose had been running since his sneezing fit in the kitchen.

A cough had begun to present itself, dry in his chest and he gave into it in the sanctity of his modest bedroom.

He stood up, stripping down to his boxers and then crawled into the bed. He laid there, uncomfortable, listening for the front door, hoping House was just leave so he could sleep.

He shivered against the grey sheets and felt an intense urge begin to form in his nose.

He brought his left hand up and rubbed it furiously, unsure if his head could handle another rough round of sneezes.

They were growing harsher and more intense…more like shouts than sneezes and they embarrassed him. He still hadn’t heard House leave and he tensed…

Don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze—

He clenched his teeth against the tickle as it heightened.

No!

He inhaled sharply, shakily pressed against the under-side of his nostrils and…

Nothing. The sensation stopped. He was about to sigh with relief when it returned, full force, and he quickly inhaled again, on the verge…

He hung there a few seconds, his mouth open, eyes closed, desperation painted on his face.

God, he was going to…he was going to…

Tortured, he covered his mouth with the inside of his wrist.

“Henh…..huhhh….AUGHESSH!” The first sneeze tore out of him, he jolted against the pillow.

But he couldn’t savor the relief that it brought him because it was followed closely behind with a second rapid inhale and a bursting,

“K’EESH! K’ESH! AGUHESSH! ESH!”

He groaned in spite of himself, aware that the room was vaguely spinning in the aftermath.

For a few minutes, he was fine.

Then the urge returned and he turned his head and stifled into his pillow four very loud, wet sneezes.

They reverberated around his room and through his temples.

Finally, he heard the decisive step-thump of House’s cane-walk and the front door opened and slammed loud enough for him to hear it.

He relaxed at last, and fell into a fitful sleep.

.................................

[chui]

oooooh.... yummy Chase!!! and trying so hard to fight them off!!!

[evelyn]

Yes you did... And I'm glad you did because this was superHOT I wonder what House'll do. I'm quite sure he won't leave poor Chase alone...