Chapter Text
The boy’s case wasn’t even House’s, and by extension, neither was it Chase’s. And yet he’d still heard of it. At this point, almost all of the nursing staff had, most of the janitors and one attending who said since nothing was confirmed, it wouldn’t be any use to notify Dr. Cuddy. Not yet, anyhow, but the whole clinic was tense with a tension that could’ve been cut with a knife.
The “case”, since there technically wasn’t an official one yet, revolved around a ten-year-old boy who’d come in with his mother. The boy, whose name was Anton, had come in with a bruised face and wrist. That in and of itself wasn’t too weird—the weird part was the story the mother tried to sell. She insisted that her son had fallen on the playground and broken his wrist that way. A few minutes later when a nurse had asked about Anton’s bruised eye the mother had changed her story, saying that her son had gotten into a fight at recess.
The bruises looked to have been done within minutes of each other, and since a fight from school and a tumble at an unconnected playground happening within minutes of each other was very unlikely, it had rung alarm bells.
The nursing staff were all over the case, anxiously looking over their shoulders and chittering amongst themselves. Chase had only heard since he’d drawn the short straw and gotten to cover House’s six missing clinic hours whilst the rest of the group went through what his boss had lovingly called “the boringest boring to have boringed.” He’d been assured by Cameron that if something interesting actually caught House’s attention she’d notify him, but Chase doubted it. It was a rather calm Tuesday, so the chances of a case that interested House appearing were slim. And at his first clinic hour out of six, he had joined in on the nurses’ worried looks and gossip about the patient.
“I mean it seems textbook ,” a lovely lady Chase had learned the name of two minutes ago—Jessica—insisted, “-a kid brought in with bruises, guardian’s recounting of the events suspicious and changing. That’s enough to report, no?”
“You’re always free to report everythin’, sure, but if it’s enough cause for an investigation is another thing.” an older nurse said with a prominent frown, shaking her head. “Just because the mother seems out of it might not be enough evidence.”
“Isn’t the point of an investigation to gather the evidence ?” Jessica shot back, brows furrowed.
“Yes, but if the investigators don’t believe in the cause their searching’s gonna be half-assed.” Chase finally cuts in, fingers idly petting over the cap of his water bottle.
He, Jessica, and the older nurse whose name he’d never found out were leaning against the nurses’ station. They occasionally glanced at the room where the kid was sitting and getting checked out by one of the rare male nurses the PPTH had, currently massaging Anton’s wrist gently to check the damage. He’d left the door open, most likely on purpose, and it eased some of the tenseness from the air.
Anton himself was just sitting there without any reaction, quietly watching the nurse’s thumbs massage at the dark purple and red bruise in the suspicious shape of fingers curled around his skin. Whenever the nurse asked him a soft question he’d just nod or shake his head, no sound coming out of him. His body language was tense, shoulders curled up to almost his ears. He was wearing beige pants and a green dinosaur t-shirt, his blond hair tousled. Not dirty though, which hinted at the mother lying about at least Anton having gotten the bruises from an accident at a park. If he’d fallen from a slide or whatever she was trying to suggest, Anton should have sand or dirt or twigs in his hair-
Chase inhaled in through his nose and out from his mouth quietly. He needed a clearer head for this.
Still, try as he might, he couldn't help the uncomfortable pit in his stomach when looking at the boy and his mother in the room. The familiarity of it didn’t tug at his heartstrings or anything, it just lit a fire inside his throat and made him unable to rip his gaze away from the pair, even if only for a second.
“..We could try and gather evidence ourselves.” he mumbles, making both nurses look at his frowning face.
“How?” Jessica scoffs, turning back to Anton and the mother as well. “They’re due to be discharged in an hour or so. When Henry—” that must be the male nurse, “—confirms that the wrist is broken or sprained, they’ll get a prescription for pain meds, maybe a splint and instructions. Then they’re out of here.” she mutters darkly.
Chase’s frown deepens. He bites his cheeks, then smooths out his expression into a carefully neutral one. “..Not unless he needs some more tests.”
Both nurses look confused, and then the oldest one's expression turns the most serious Chase has ever seen her be. Which might not mean much, since he took notice of her for the first time twenty minutes ago.
“We can’t take useless tests.” she points out tensely. And even though she says it like it’s obvious, she still lowers her voice as well so the medical staff around the clinic won’t hear.
“Not unless a doctor authorizes them because he’s worried about the patient,” he responds, eyes finally leaving Anton and his mother to look at his companions for the day with a raised eyebrow and slight smirk.
“I’m down here doing clinic hours, right? I’m sure me going to check up on them and being worried about neurological damage due to a possible concussion isn’t too far-fetched.”
The elder nurse considers this in a tense manner whilst Jessica looks downright excited.
“No, not at all. After all, a fall from the monkey bars can easily cause a concussion,” she continues, turning to the older nurse again with pleading eyes. “-right, Helen?”
Helen stays silent for a few more seconds before slowly nodding. “Of course not. We’re all about diligence here, after all. We’d hate to discharge a child right away without properly checkin’ everything’s alright.” she adds, turning her head to look back at the room alongside Jessica and Chase. Henry seems to be finishing up the initial check-up, getting up from the crouch he’d been doing and exchanging a few polite words with the mother. He walks out of the room with a clipboard and closes the exam room’s door, looking up at the three of them with a slight grimace. He walks over to them quickly, glancing around the room before offering Chase the clipboard.
“The mother’s changed her story twice, but seems to have settled on some playground-fight combo. I asked her how she hadn’t noticed her son getting into a fight on the playground since she insists on having been there with him, but she said something about being gone for a few minutes for the bathroom.” he mutters, running a hand through his black hair and leaning against the standing desk.
Chase places his water bottle down and takes the clipboard, glancing over the notes. Anton’s wrist is arguably fine, if irritated and bruised to hell. What makes Chase cringe is the orbital blowout fracture. It isn’t severe, not exactly, but seeing it on a ten-year-old makes him hiss quietly. And it makes that pit in his stomach punch against the walls around it.
“I can work with this.” he mumbles, finger gently tapping beneath the words written in ink.
Jessica smiles and Henry looks confused.
“So, what tests shall we take, doctor?” she asks with a grin, and even Helen smirks a bit. Chase can’t help but let his own grin widen. Just a little.
“Well, we should get him scheduled for an MRI. Rule out any brain bleeds due to the shattered bone,” he answers, scratching his cheek and trying to suppress his smile. “Get those ordered, I’ll go and notify the patient.”