Archive of Our Own

“It’s alright, I promise,” Chase assured over a toddler’s loud cries.

“I told you she had been throwing up,” the teenage girl accompanying the patient said with a tired frown. Chase tended to the patient first, wiping away the vomit on her face while she cried.

Chase was counting the minutes to the end of his shift. He had spent practically all day in the clinic cramming in his mandatory hours that had been stolen by a series of difficult cases.

“I never doubted you,” Chase straightened out and peeled off his coat. The kid had miraculously avoided soiling her own clothes but succeeded in puking all over Chase’s front.

“Look, can you help her? I know it might just be a stomach bug or something, but this isn’t normal. She’s a happy girl. She can be difficult, but she’s never like this,” the teenager begged. Chase looked away from his shirt and toward her. She was tearing up and her lip trembled as she fought to keep composure. Her brows were pinched together and shoulders squared, trying to seem worthy of respect.

“Besides the vomiting and loss of appetite, have you noticed anything else?” If this girl was just some random parent, Chase wouldn’t have batted an eye. It was likely just an overly cautious parent who brought their kid out to expose the public to a stomach bug and force Chase to change his shirt for the second time that day. But something about this girl wasn’t sitting right. She was young and small, couldn’t be older than fifteen. She looked exhausted well beyond her years. Her face was gaunt and her eyes hollow. Beyond her appearance, her behaviour was alarming. She was well spoken and fought hard to keep calm and to be taken seriously in an emotionally charged situation. She had smiled politely and greeted Chase formally when she entered the exam room. If it weren’t for her stature, Chase would have assumed she were much older.

“Tons,” she attempted a joke. “She’s irritable, uncoordinated, has no interest in her toys, she’s slurring her words, and she’s been sleeping so much. You’d think I’d appreciate her going down for naps easily, but this is scary. It’s next to impossible to wake her up as well I’m not sure, I don’t know,”

Chase nodded, silently wishing the kid would stop crying.

“You said she’s been having these symptoms for about four days?” Chase asked. The girl stared pitifully at the toddler before caving and rushing to her side. She lifted her into her arms and hugged her tightly, rocking back and forth on her feet. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she kept her expression neutral and posture composed.

“Maybe more? I don’t know, I don’t keep the best eye on her,” she admitted. Chase raised a brow. He wanted to cross his arms, but couldn’t because of the vomit on his shirt.

“How are you two related?” Chase asked. “We never got to that,”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, I guess not. I’m Emma, this is my sister Lilac, but I call her Lila, she just turned three,” Emma introduced. Chase nodded. Something wasn’t sitting right.

“Have your parents noticed any additional symptoms?” Chase asked. He figured asking “where are your parents?” point-blank wouldn’t be a welcome question. He felt anger begging to build in his chest at the impression he was getting.

Emma shrugged and looked away for a moment. She held her sister a little tighter. Her smile faltered, but it remained, polite and unassuming.

“Same things,” she answered vaguely. “Any ideas?”

“Is anyone else in your family sick at the moment or has been recently? Any sickness among friends, in daycare, anyone Lila comes in contact with?” Chase asked. Emma shook her head.

“No, no one’s sick. She doesn’t go to daycare or see any other kids, really,” Emma explained while she adjusted her hold on her sister. She was still crying, albeit quieter.

“Does she or has she had a fever recently?” Chase asked. Emma shook her head decisively.

“No, nothing like that. I checked a few times and not once did she have a temperature. I’m far from an expert, but this seems like more than some sort of virus or sickness. She can barely stand,” Emma brought a hand up to her face to wipe her eyes as quickly as she could before any tears could spill over. Chase recognized the way she kept herself from crying. If he wasn’t observing her as carefully as he was, he wouldn’t have noticed the layers to her distress.

“Could you set her down on the table?” Chase requested. “I’d help you out, but I don’t want to get either of you dirty.”

Emma blushed and chuckled lightly. She complied, setting Lilac down on the exam table. The toddler's gaze stayed on her sister, lip quivering and blinking slowly.

Chase reached for his coat pocket only to remember he had removed it. The end-of-shift brain fog was starting to get to him. He grabbed his coat off the chair he’d discarded it on and retrieved his flashlight. He ducked down to get on Lilac’s level. Emma took the hint and gently turned her sister’s head to face the doctor.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked. Chase glanced toward her before flicking the light on. Emma watched carefully, craning her neck so she could see what Chase was seeing. Her fingers fidgeted in her sweater sleeves and her eyes were still tearing up.

“Seeing how her pupils respond to light,” Chase explained. As expected, Lilac shut her eyes tight at the bright light. Less expected was the high-pitched, clearly distressed whine she let out followed by a loud, heart-wrenching sob.

Chase turned the light off, recognizing he couldn’t continue while she was upset. It wasn’t unusual for people, especially children, to recoil at a bright light being shone in their eye, but the intense reaction was abnormal.

“I’m sorry,” Emma rushed out, voice cracking. She scooped Lilac up hesitantly and awkwardly. She watched Chase carefully as she sat on the exam table herself, Lilac in her lap and facing outward toward the doctor. “I can hold her, she might do better?”

Chase smiled sadly. “Don’t apologize, she’s not feeling well and she’s a baby,” Chase chuckled lightly, hoping to lighten the mood and calm Emma down. Lilac was still fussing, but Chase could tell that wasn’t going to stop anytime soon and Emma was beginning to stress as well. He accepted Emma’s aid and crouched back down, gingerly opening one of the toddler’s eyelids and shining the light again. He made quick work of examining both eyes before straightening out and tucking his flashlight away in his pants pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked. Chase was good at keeping his expression professional and neutral when dealing with patients. The fact Emma had sensed any sort of worry was shocking.

“Is there any chance Lila might have hit her head recently?” Chase asked. The colour drained from Emma’s face. Her grip tightened on her sister. She blinked rapidly, the tears building up quicker.

“Oh, God,” she mumbled. “Yeah, yeah, maybe? I don’t know, I don’t see her all hours of the day,” Emma shook her head, staring up at Chase as her composure started to break down.

Chase’s expression softened and he pulled up a chair. He took a seat and stared up at Emma. He felt nausea swirling in his gut. Something wasn’t right here. He couldn’t place it quite yet. He wasn’t trying to. He was focused on the patient. Whatever it was could come out later. For now, he needed to figure out if the patient could have sustained a head injury.

“Have your parents said anything about her hitting her head? Could we get a hold of them, maybe clarify?” Chase asked, soft yet urgent. Emma shrugged and ran a hand through her methodically curled hair. She didn’t seem like a parent who had rushed their kid to the doctor. She seemed like what she was, a teenager who worked up the courage one afternoon to ask for help with her baby sister.

“I-I don’t- they’re busy,” Emma said. “She could have hit her head, she’s gotten hurt before and I didn’t notice,” Emma rushed out, voice cracking. She was beginning to break down as the reality of the situation set in.

“It’s okay,” Chase interjected. He filed the comment about the previous injuries away for later. “She’s in good hands, alright? I’m confident that a head injury is likely and worth investigating. We’ll get her admitted and we’ll take good care of her,”

“I’m really sorry,” Emma said, fully crying. “I’m doing everything I can, it’s just hard when I’m not home. I just– I didn’t want her around, but I can’t stand the thought of anything bad happening to her and I know I’m a bad sister, I’m just… I’m out of options,”

Chase shook his head. He felt sick and it was more than just the smell of the vomit on his shirt getting to him. This all felt familiar in the worst way possible.

“You made the right choice bringing her here,” Chase informed. Emma shook her head and bowed her head to hide her face from him. She was secretive in her distress, not making a sound and body rigid, preventing any unwanted movements.

“I should’ve brought her sooner,” Emma muttered without looking up. She brought a sleeve-covered hand to her face for a moment before dropping it back into her lap and fidgeting. “I should’ve known. I should have brought her in as soon as I noticed something was off,”

Chase’s heart pounded. He felt a slight disconnect between himself and his body, no longer aware of where his body existed in space. He stayed purposefully still and drew in a deep breath before addressing Emma’s self-deprecating ramblings.

“Nothing is confirmed yet,” Chase said despite becoming increasingly certain a head injury was the cause of the child’s symptoms. “Siblings rarely bring their siblings to the doctor. The fact you’ve done that at all is proof you care. You did the right thing. We’ll take care of her now,”

Emma looked up. Her eyes were full of tears and bloodshot. Her lips were pressed together in a fine line and her brows were pinched together. Despite her tears, her expression came off as angry. Her hands trembled where they were hidden in her sleeves. She squeezed them into fists and inhaled shakily.

“Do you have to call our parents?” Emma asked quietly.

“She’s under sixteen, so yes,” Chase confirmed. Emma’s face crumpled slightly for a split second before it returned to neutral.

“I’m her sister though, does that count for anything?” Her voice wavered as she spoke despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

“We need a legal guardian to consent to medical treatment on her behalf,” Chase started, voice soft. “Is there a reason you don’t want your parents to be contacted?”

Emma froze. Not obviously, but her eyes stayed fixed on Chase, she tensed just slightly more, and her hands stopped trembling.

“I’m not sure if they’re available right now,” Emma supplied. “What if they don’t pick up and she needs care now?”

Chase nodded, genuinely listening and considering the question. “If an emergency occurs, we can get her stable without consent. We’ll ensure your sister gets the best care we can provide,”

“Will you be her doctor?” Emma asked shyly. Chase’s heart melted and stomach dropped simultaneously. He nodded, smiling softly.

“Of course. I know a few good doctors who will take good care of her as well,”

“But you’ll still be there?” Emma confirmed. Chase nodded.

“Of course. I’ll run and change my shirt first, but I’ll be there,”

Chase walked Emma and her sister through getting Lilac admitted into the hospital. Both upon Emma’s request and because of a strange inability to stray from the sisters’ side, he rushed to get another shirt from his locker so he could return to the sisters and stay with them as Lila was brought to her room.

Really, Chase should have gotten back to the clinic, or even back to the diagnostics wing to get ready to leave with his shift ending in around fifteen minutes.

But something was keeping him here, keeping him with the sisters. There was something about Emma. The way she spoke, carried herself, and cried that felt familiar, like finding an old toy you forgot you owned and not wanting to part with it despite going so long without it.

“We’ll order a head scan,” Chase said after he’d examined Lila further. He dimmed the lights in the room while she got settled in bed.

“Is that necessary?” Emma asked hopefully. “I’ve been concussed before and I just rested at home each time,”

Chase walked over to Lilac’s bedside, standing next to Emma where she was holding her sister’s little hand. The toddler looked dazed, staring blankly forward without a thought behind her eyes.

“I’m worried about the severity of Lila’s symptoms. Everything you’ve described implies a more serious head injury. She needs to stay under observation, but I want to make sure everything is alright,” Chase explained. He heard Emma draw in a shaky breath. “As soon as we contact your parents, we can continue with further diagnostics and treatment,”

Emma’s eyes flicked up to Chase. Her passive and polite demeanour had melted away, revealing pure anger. Chase startled just at the sight of her gaze narrowed and shoulders tense yet open.

“You have to do the scan now,” Emma demanded. “My parents aren’t going to pick up. They aren’t going to come here. You need to help her now,”

Chase’s heart was racing. He felt unsteady on his feet. He nodded dumbly, barely considering his next words.

“I’ll do what I can,” Chase declared. Emma rolled her wet eyes.

“Will you?” She asked rhetorically.

Chase nodded firmly. “I’m going to get her in for a CT scan,”

Emma didn’t reply. She turned back to Lilac and placed a hand over her mouth, shoulders stuttering. Chase left the room as soon as the thought occurred to him.

Chase got Lilac the CT scan. Emma stayed close by the entire time. She thanked Chase more times than he could count throughout the process. He didn’t feel like she should be thanking him. He didn’t feel accomplished. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything. He felt guilty, scared, angry, and desperate. He was desperate for someone to swoop in and fix what he was feeling. He didn’t know what was going on. All he could trust was his unending desire to push forward, to keep helping Lilac and Emma at all costs.

“I’ll look at the scans with my coworkers right away,” Chase informed.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Chase,” Emma thanked again, hands placed over her heart. Chase didn’t acknowledge her expression of gratitude.

Their nurse who had assisted with the scan stepped forward. Chase didn’t remember her being there at any point.

She placed a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder before she started speaking. “I’ll lead you two back to your room. You’ll hear about the results as soon as their ready,”

As they started heading out of the room, Chase reached for his pager. He could feel the nurse’s gaze lingering on him as the three girls left the room.

He sat behind the computers, too anxious to look up and see the results. Alone for the first time in ages, Chase was left to face every last thing he was feeling with no distractions.

He felt a tight squeeze in his chest compress his heart. As soon as the pain shot out, he had to stifle a sob that came out of nowhere.

He propped his elbows up on the desk and rested his head in his hands. He kept his eyes open and stared at the bleak, white surface in front of him.

He felt sick.

He felt off. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t feel panicked or scared, not like he did while he was with the sisters. He felt like he was covered in a thick, heavy blanket, separated from the outside world in a facade of safety. Despite his apparent comfort, he felt a deep sense of unease, like he was hiding under the blanket while his parents fought, pretending he was all alone and away from it all.

He felt like crawling under the desk and crying. He felt his skin separating from the rest of his body. He felt uneasy in the way kids know there’s something wrong in the adult world but won’t ever have the reality explained

He felt like he was walking into foreign territory, except he had been here before. Nostalgia for a time when he didn’t know what this feeling felt like. Remembering a time where he felt this unsettled and fuzzy and alone along with the experience of discovering those feelings for the first time.

House, Cameron, and Foreman arrived at some point. No matter how long they’d actually taken, Chase still felt betrayed. He was angry for being left to stew in his unease for as long as he did, giving it the opportunity to settle into his bones and not be shaken away. Other people’s presence felt like a confrontation was waiting to happen or something serious was going on and they were going to dance around it.

“What the hell is this about?” House asked. Chase tensed, a full-body reaction he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He prayed no one noticed and cleared his throat.

“Look at these scans,” Chase requested. He had to force his voice to come out loud. He already knew it was going to be quiet by the way the sludge of unsettlement crept up into his throat.

His coworkers and boss peered over his shoulder to look at the computer screen. Chase looked just beyond it. He didn’t care about seeing the scans himself. In his mind, whatever was there was there and he’d be told soon enough.

“There’s radiologists for this, y’know?” Foreman commented as he stood up straight.

“Who’s scans are these?” Cameron asked far too cheerfully.

“Just a patient I had in the clinic,” Chase mumbled. His voice sounded like it was coming from a third party in the room.

Strangely, House didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t make a remark eitherike Foreman had about getting someone else to interpret the scan. He stood beside Chase and looked over the images carefully and methodically, like he cared about their results. Like the results influenced him directly.

Chase found himself drawn to House at that moment. His care was comforting in some strange way, even if he didn’t understand where his interest had come from. What mattered to Chase mattered to House by default. That was enough for him to cling to the older man all but literally. He looked up toward him, waiting patiently with perfectly straight posture.

“Looks like an epidural hematoma,” House said. He looked at Chase with his brows pinched together. “Tell me about the patient,”

Chase was honestly shocked House wasn’t being more nosy. He leapt right into action. He didn’t question, didn’t ridicule, nothing. He seemed to be resonating with Chase, understanding the situation on some level without needing to ask or pry.

“Three year-old female. Suspected head trauma. Repeated vomiting, excessive sleep, difficulty waking up from naps, slurred speech, loss of coordination, slightly sluggish pupillary light reflex. Started showing symptoms around 2 days ago,” Chase listed.

“What’s her GCS score?” House asked.

“Eleven,” Chase replied. House nodded.

“Is she in surgery? Why did you page us?” Cameron interjected urgently. House and Chase spun around to face her.

“Does she need surgery?” Chase asked. He didn’t expect the worry that came through in his voice. House shot him a look halfway between irritated and concerned before looking back to Cameron.

“Are the slides being printed?” House asked. Chase nodded.

“It looks like she needs surgery to me. Get those slides looked at by someone who specializes in this shit to be safe,” House suggested.

“Since when do you play it safe?” Foreman asked. Chase tensed. House shot Foreman a glare.

“Foreman, Cameron, go find a neurologist,” House instructed. Foreman opened her mouth to protest, but Cameron recognized the tone of their boss’ voice and left hurriedly, dragging Foreman along with her.

House sighed and turned to his remaining fellow. Chase caught it out of the corner of his eye. He stared at the scans on the computer screen, knee bouncing anxiously beneath the desk.

“Let’s go check in on your patient,” House suggested gruffly. Chase nodded, not looking his way.

The hyperfocus he’d obtained through treating Lilac was wavering. It wasn’t gone completely, but his discomfort and pure emptiness was overtaking. He felt uncomfortable with responsibility. The responsibility he felt from having to take care of this little girl felt sudden and familiar, unsettlingly so. He wanted nothing more than to clock out, go home, and eat whatever sad excuse for a meal he could throw together, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He felt an obligation toward these girls. He had to take care of them even if he was miserable.

House didn’t ask any questions the whole way to Lilac’s room. He barely looked Chase’s way and Chase returned the favour.

He wasn’t really thinking. When House showed up and started taking interest, he saw somewhat of an out. Really, it wasn’t fair to dump the responsibility of Lilac onto House. Some part of Chase recognized that. The rest of him was content to rely on House for as long as possible, but the small part of him that understood the unfair nature of his actions was starting to take hold.

“Have you paged an OR?” House asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Chase shook his head.

“The patient’s parents aren’t here. It’s just her sister,” Chase explained.

“How old is the sister?” House asked.

“Fifteen,” Chase replied. House stopped in his tracks. Chase did as well. He could feel his heart beginning to race. This was more than just the discomfort he’d felt earlier. The reality of the situation was starting to creep back in.

“Why the hell have her parents not been contacted?” House asked angrily. Chase looked up at House and met his intense stare. He knew that anger wasn’t meant for him, at least not entirely, but it still didn’t feel great to be on the receiving end of it. His security blanket was gone, thrown off. Everything felt raw. House’s anger may have been mild, but it stung like hell regardless.

“We’ve tried,” Chase said, shaking his head. House looked away and continued walking. Chase followed, heart pounding in his ears.

“Try harder,” House lectured.

“We’ve done everything but track them down and drag them here. We’ve called everywhere they could be, every person they could be with, called them multiple times from multiple phones and absolutely nothing,” Chase rushed out. House looked at him, angry expression wavering and something akin to concern seeping in.

“She needs surgery,” House stated simply. Chase nodded.

“Does this count as an emergency? Nothing can happen if it’s considered one,” Chase asked hopefully. House didn’t pause to think before speaking.

“You go talk to Cuddy. I’ll talk to the patient and gauge the situation, start getting things ready for surgery until someone says no,” House explained. Chase nodded firmly. He led House the last few steps to Lila’s room before turning to leave. He caught a look from House, something like sympathy, before he fully committed to leaving.

As soon as he heard Lilac’s door close, Chase broke out into a sprint. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pager. He didn’t feel his hands shaking, but he sure as hell could see it. He paged Cuddy, letting her know he was on his way.

By the time he arrived at her office, Chase was near panicking. He felt disconnected from his body again but not in the fuzzy, numbing way. The adrenaline pumping through his body was creating an intense yet steady buzz beneath his skin which covered up all other physical sensations.

He must have looked crazed when he opened the door to Cuddy’s office as she sat up straight instantly upon his arrival, brows pinched together and frowning.

“Doctor Chase?” She stood up, slowly walking toward him as he committed to entering the room.

“Three year-old girl with subacute epidural hematoma following a head injury. GCS score of 11, but the hematoma clearly has a volume of more than 30mL,” Chase rushed out. Cuddy nodded, eyes flicking up and down Chase’s frame with her hands outstretched as if she were taming a wild animal.

“Surgery,” Cuddy answered, simply and confused.

“Patient’s parents aren’t present and despite multiple attempts cannot be contacted. Only person with her is her fifteen year-old sister,” Chase revealed. Cuddy nodded, expression calming slightly as she grew familiar with the situation.

“I assume she’s being prepped for surgery now?” Cuddy asked. Chase nodded.

“House is sorting things out. He sent me up here to ask,” Chase explained.

“Ask if this could cause legal trouble?” Cuddy clarified, slowly walking back to her desk.

“Yes,”

“Has a neurologist evaluated her?” Cuddy asked.

“The CT scan results should be getting reviewed by a neurologist right now,” Chase answered. His vision was slightly blurred. He couldn’t focus on anything. He gave up trying and opted for looking in Cuddy’s general direction. It didn’t occur to him to be concerned how he was coming off.

“I can see that you’re worried,” Cuddy observed as she sat down behind her desk again. Chase straightened out, suddenly aware of his appearance. He couldn’t fully feel his body and that fact was being brought to his attention. The buzzing under his skin only got worse when he realized its presence.

“Her case calls for immediate surgery. Continue prepping her. Only stop if a neurologist tells you surgery isn’t necessary, but I highly doubt that will happen,” Cuddy granted her permission.

“Thank you,” Chase didn’t try to contain his sense of urgency. He turned away from the concerned look Cuddy was giving him and ran out of her office.

He didn’t have to go far to find House. He had started heading up to Cuddy’s office as well and Chase would have run straight into him if House didn’t step out of the way and slow him down.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” House asked.

“How’s Lilac?” Chase ignored House’s question. House calmed down from the initial scare of nearly being toppled over. His shoulders rolled down and back. His expression relaxed slightly, but that wasn’t saying much. He still wore something of a glare as he stared Chase down.

“Getting ready for surgery. Cameron heard from the neurologist, she needs it,” House informed.

Chase breathed a sigh of relief. Lilac was going to be okay. He brought both his hands to his head and ran them through his hair. He tried to take a deep breath, but it came in short. He tried again, only to realize he couldn’t control his breaths and they were coming in far too quick and shallow.

His gaze automatically flicked to House as the fear started to set in. House caught on quickly, raising his brows and tensing.

“Chase, what’s going on?” House asked, tone serious like it was a demand.

“I don’t know,” Chase answered. He felt dizzy. He felt nauseous. Something wasn’t right.

“What the hell happened?” House asked, voice raised. Chase buried his hands in his hair and balled them into fists. He tried to stand up straighter and meet House’s eye properly, but he couldn’t. He was too dizzy. He was going to fall over. He would pass out and hit his head or throw up first, that would be fun.

“Kid, sit down,” House instructed. Chase shook his head, though he opted for leaning against the wall to steady himself. One physical symptom negated helped him focus on the others.

“I’m okay,” Chase tried in between laboured breaths. House scoffed.

“Sure, you ran out of Cuddy’s office panicking for no reason,”

“I’m not panicking,” Chase rolled his eyes. He wasn’t lying either. He was anxious, but he was slowly yet surely manually taking control of his breathing, half because he wasn’t stressing about falling over anymore and half out of a desire to prove House wrong. He placed a hand over his chest, hoping to feel how his chest rose and fell as he calmed himself down.

“You’re calming down fast,” House praised under his breath. Chase shrugged, still looking straight ahead.

“Nothing happened. I just couldn’t breathe when I saw you,” Chase reiterated.

“There’s easier ways to let me know you’re into me, you didn’t have to stage a panic attack,”

That grabbed Chase’s attention. He looked House’s way, giving him an unimpressed look.

“How are you feeling?” House asked. Chase took a moment to really think about it. His heart was still racing, but not as fast as before. His breathing was still laboured, but it was slowing down. He still felt dizzy and sick, but strangely as he seemed to return to his body, the physical symptoms of his anxiety lessened. They felt smaller when he was present and standing right next to them. They were uncomfortable, but easier to handle.

“Fine,” Chase answered instead of properly explaining. House rolled his eyes.

Chase felt a sudden jolt of panic seize his heart. He stood up straight, glancing around the hall.

“Where’s Emma?” Chase asked.

“In the waiting room. She was asking for you. Seemed urgent. You should get down there,” House informed with no urgency. Chase didn’t have it in him to comment on his demeanour and the content of his statement. He found the urgency in the situation without House’s aid. He instantly felt like something wasn’t right. It was as if ice had been injected into his veins. He needed to move. He needed to see Emma.

He didn’t explain himself when he pushed away from the wall nd ran down the hall. He didn’t need to. He saw the way House looked at him despite his lax tone. He knew something wasn’t right about this situation as well. Not once had House questioned Chase’s motives or mocked him. He followed along wordlessly. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t see what Chase saw.

Emma was easy to find. She was sitting in a chair with her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped around the exposed skin of her calves. She stared blankly ahead of herself, tears brimming in her eyes but expression neutral otherwise.

Chase slowed when he saw her. He was breathing fast and his heart was racing again, more from exertion than anything else.

“Emma?” Chase called out hesitantly into the grim quiet of the waiting room. Emma’s head snapped toward him. Her eyes widened and her face crumpled slightly. Only for a moment. She regained composure quickly and released her grip on her legs, allowing them to drop to the floor.

Chase beckoned her over with a tilt of his head. She nodded and slowly stood up. Her movements were calculated, every step somewhat stiff. She didn’t look at him as they walked, pointedly keeping her focus forward. It was more obvious now that she was fighting to stay contained, though the untrained eye wouldn’t think much of her behaviour.

“My parents did answer one of my calls a bit ago,” Emma revealed quietly. Chase had to consciously continue walking and not pause like he was shocked.

“Yeah?” Chase prompted. He purposefully didn’t comment on the contents of her statement. He wanted to hear the full story first.

“They’re not coming,” Emma revealed. She was the one to stop walking. She turned and faced Chase, tears slowly escaping from her eyes. She wasn’t giving into her cries, but she wasn’t stopping the tears from flowing. She fidgeted with the fabric of her sweater sleeves as she made intense eye contact with Chase, her face conveying a gravity her body language contrasted.

“Everyone here is saying I need my parents, that Lila needs our parents here. You said it, your boss said it, the receptionist when we walked in said it, the nurses keep saying it, everyone insists Lila needs our parents here, but I don’t know if or when they’re coming. They said they don’t believe me, that I’m lying to make them feel like ‘bad parents’ or something,

“I just… I need to know that she’ll be okay if they aren’t here or don’t show up. I do everything I can for her and I really can’t mess this up, I mean, she’s my only sister. I need to be there for her and everyone’s saying I can’t do that and I’m… I don’t know. I’m just scared,”

Emma didn’t move. She didn’t wipe her eyes. She didn’t look away. She kept looking right into Chase’s soul, eyes wide and terrified.

Chase felt everything Emma felt. In that moment, he felt the terror, the fear with uncertainty, the frustration. He felt everything.

“They don’t need to be here for us to take care of Lila,” Chase started. A choked sob escaped from Emma’s throat. She brought a shaky hand to her mouth and her shoulders tensed slightly as she slowly gave into her emotions.

“I understand your worry. Not having legal guardians present to make medical decisions and give consent on their child’s behalf is difficult and we try to avoid it, but we’re making do. You have no reason to worry about it,” Chase had no idea if he was helping. He had mostly forgotten the reason for Emma’s worry. Really, he wasn’t sure if he had ever grasped it.

All he could think about was how Emma and Lilac were being failed by their parents. He saw the burden Emma was carrying. He saw the signs in Lila. He saw how Emma carried herself, composed and mature because there was no one else around to play that part for her. Someone had to be there for Lila. Emma was all there was. She was worried she wouldn’t be enough, but she knew her parents wouldn’t be any better. If Chase and the hospital didn’t accept her role in Lila’s life, Lila had no one.

Emma wasn’t a doctor. She couldn’t carry Lila through this. She needed to transfer the responsibility over to Chase and the hospital which she was clearly apprehensive and worried about doing. It was like she didn’t know if it was safe to let go. Like she wasn’t used to trusting other people with Lila’s care.

It was normal for people to worry over their loved ones who were in the hospital and with that concern often came questions. Typically, those questions were about how their loved one was doing, what their treatment would look like, questions focused on the person receiving care. Emma’s questions were centered around herself. What she could do, what she couldn’t do, what she felt, her uncertainties, her responsibilities. In her mind, Lila’s wellbeing was directly linked to her ability to care for her. She wasn’t used to trusting Lila was safe under other people’s watch.

“Are you sure?” Emma asked. The shakiness in her voice was evident. She wasn’t making an active effort to hide it anymore. She let her voice falter. She let her hands tremble. She let her tears flow.

Chase didn’t reply. He nodded simply, hoping it wasn’t obvious he was tearing up as well.

Emma mirrored his nod. She retreated back into herself, pulling her emotions back inward. She wiped her eyes, tensed her shoulders, and cleared her throat. Her face that had begun to crack smoothed over, neutral and unalarming.

“Thank you,” she spoke clearly. The quiver in her voice was only noticeable because Chase was waiting for it.

With a small smile, she turned around and headed back for the waiting room. Chase stood and watched her walk away until she was no longer in his view.

Heavy yet empty at the same time, Chase headed to the diagnostics room, drifting further from his body with every step.

Cameron and Foreman had presumably gone home. Chase would have been surprised to see House was still at work if he’d had the presence of mind to notice such things. He was sitting behind his desk in his office, blinds and door wide open. He sat up straight at his employee’s arrival.

“Chase,” House called. Chase felt a disproportionate amount of fear at his name being said. He looked up and saw House gesturing for him to come into his office. He complied, albeit slowly.

“Did you talk to the girl?” House asked.

“Emma,” Chase instantly corrected. He sat down and didn’t bother looking at his boss. He stared blankly at the desk, fidgeting under his sleeves.

“Did you?” House asked again. Chase couldn’t explain the lump that suddenly formed in his throat or the tears that sprung into his eyes.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “She did reach her parents,”

“Why’d she lie?” House asked. Chase shrugged. The tears continued to build. He kept staring at the same space on the desk as he tried to fend them off.

“They didn’t believe her when she said what was going on with Lila. Emma’s not sure they’ll come at all,” Chase explained.

“Why’d she want to tell you?” House asked. His tone was overly relaxed, far more casual than it usually was when he was interrogating someone. The conversation felt more like that, just a casual conversation about the patient sparked by genuine curiosity.

“She wanted to make sure Lila would be okay without her parents present,” Chase answered. House didn’t reply right away. Chase looked up and was instantly met with House’s piercing blue eyes staring at him with a knowing look and an undertone of sympathy. His questioning wasn’t as casual as it seemed. The focus in his expression and the relaxed confidence in his posture proved he was working toward an objective.

“That’s odd,” House commented. “I thought we assured her plenty,”

Chase took the silent encouragement to elaborate. He cleared his throat again, though it did nothing for the lump that was still standing strong.

“She doesn’t… she doesn’t seem to know how to let go of her responsibility for Lila. She talks like she’s the only person who knows how to or does care for her,” Chase explained. He tried to ignore the pit in his stomach growing deeper as emotions came up he didn’t address.

“I saw the same thing,” House leaned back in his chair, not breaking eye contact for a second. “What do you think it means?”

Chase swore he felt his heart break. He knew what it meant. He knew what House was trying to get him to say. He knew what this was doing to him, but he refused to acknowledge it fully. He couldn’t stop the pain in his chest, the tears looming in his eyes, or the icky, uncomfortable feeling in his bones. Still, he refused to acknowledge the implications fully. He didn’t want to take the extra step of putting the pieces together. He knew they fit, but he wasn’t going to be the one to slot them into place.

House was catching on. He already had been, Chase knew that now, but he was ready to drive his point home.

“Why are you so invested in this case?” House asked. Chase looked back at the desk. “From the moment these girls walked into the clinic, you’ve been at their side, overseeing every
decision made. You could have, really should have just admitted them and gone home. You’re drawn to this case. Why?”

Chase took the onslaught of questions as an accusation. “She’s a three year-old girl with a concussion no one remembers happening. She has a brain bleed and no one was around. How is that not worthy of sticking around for? Emma wanted Lila to stay under my care,”

House sensed Chase’s hostility. He narrowed his gaze and leaned forward slightly, matching Chase’s energy. “You’ve let cases just like this one go before. Why not Lila? What’s so different,”

Chase didn’t reply. He stared at House, tears brimming. He knew House could see he was cracking. He knew his lip was trembling and he was gripping the armrests far too tight. He knew there was little use in continuing to hide anymore. Still, he didn’t speak.

“This hitting a little close to home?” House suggested, tone going softer again.

As on the nose as it was, Chase broke. A sob escaped from his throat, the unwavering lump only tightening and urging more cries to escape.

He couldn’t look away, He stared deep into House’s eyes as he wept, hand firm over his mouth and shoulders hitching with every strangled breath.

Chase felt helpless. He felt exposed and raw, like House’s presence and stare was actively fileting his skin off.

He felt like a damn kid. All the burdens he’d ever shouldered and the secrets he’d ever kept felt too close by, like new responsibilities he’d just accepted and new feelings and experiences to be kept hidden were just introduced.

He felt seen, but not seen enough to be relieving. He didn’t feel calm or content like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He had all the humiliation and fear that came with opening up with none of the supposed positive effects to show for it.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. All he could do was look at House in his intense, cold eyes and cry, feeling the moment and every tremor and heart wrenching sob that came with it.

Worst of all was it wasn’t about him. All he felt was for himself. The tightness in his chest and in every muscle in his body was for himself. Not for Emma nor Lila, the people who were currently suffering. The children who were in the middle of where he’d once been. The ones who actively needed help.

Not once were any of his concerns or worries purely for the sisters. Brewing inside of him the whole time was resonance, unconsciously relating their experiences to his own.

All he wanted to do was feel better. He struggled growing up, but it all felt normal. He knew it felt normal for Emma as well. That much was clear.

Now he knew better. Now he looked back and he saw the struggle, saw the pain, saw the child at the center of it all.

He wished that kid knew he was seen. Even if he didn’t understand the significance, he wished that past version of himself had the comfort of knowing that someday someone would just know.

“Let it out,” House quietly urged. Looking beyond House’s eyes, his expression was quite soft. His whole demeanour was relaxed and open. He was leaned back in his chair, arms comfortably resting on the arm rests. His shoulders were limp and his face neutral as if a grown man wasn’t sobbing to the point of having difficulty breathing right in front of him.

“What do you want, House?” Chase managed to ask bitterly. He wasn’t sure it came off as angry. Pathetic, maybe.

“Figured I’d let you know I know,” House responded with a casual shrug. Chase rested his elbows on his knees, hinging forward and dropping his head into his hands.

House sighed and Chase heard him get up from his chair. He looked up when his distinct footsteps approached. He crouched down in front of him with a pained wince. Chase’s cries quieted, though the sound of his rapid breathing was embarrassingly audible.

“You gotta breathe, kid,” House informed, voice level but volume higher than earlier. Chase attempted a scoff, though it sounded far too strangled to be anything meaningful.

“You’re an ass,” Chase concluded. He made fists in his hair, attempting to ground himself enough to be able to stand up and haul ass out of that room.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to check in on Emma. He wanted House to back the fuck up and get out of his space. He wanted a real reason to cry. He wanted to scream and throw a genuine fit. He wanted to be yelled at. He wanted the world to make sense for one second.

“I know, kid,” House agreed.

Beyond that statement, House didn’t speak. He fully sat on the floor and placed a hand on Chase’s knee. Chase flinched at the sudden contact and he instinctively searched for the perpetrators face.

He met House’s eyes, unwavering and understanding. Chase choked out another sob as he continued to cry, though he didn’t look away from House.

The older man rubbed soothing circles on Chase’s knee with his thumb. He tightened the grip on his hair in response.

“Cry yourself out, kid, I’ll wait for you,” House assured. Despite himself, Chase huffed out a sad excuse for a laugh before diving right back into his cries.

Slowly but surely, Chase calmed down.

It took ages, no less than ten minutes for his breathing to even out and for tears to stop streaming down his face. At the end of it all, his mind felt fuzzy and numb after the period of intense emotion while his body felt somewhat grounded and overly exhausted.

True to his word, House stayed in the same position while Chase cried himself out.

“You done?” House asked. It was a valid question. There were a few times where Chase managed to pull himself together, but only for a few seconds before he broke again.

“Yeah,” Chase mumbled. He still felt all the same feelings that led to his crying fit, but he was thoroughly cried out. He was out of tears.

House nodded and slowly stood up, wincing as he changed positions. Chase avoided his eye and stood up as well. He was unsteady on his feet from fatigue, though he was ready to get the hell out of House’s office and get home to pass out and never think about this day again.

House would prove to be an obstacle to his plan.

“Don’t leave,” House instructed as Chase started to do just that. He looked over his shoulder. House leaned against his desk, twirling his cane in one hand while he stared into Chase’s eyes.

“What?” Chase asked, hoping House would fill in the blanks in his question his exhausted mind couldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

Chase couldn’t help but be shocked by the sincerity of the question. Throughout the whole ordeal, House did seem more sympathetic than he ever had been with Chase, but now, he looked downright soft. Every sharp edge his expression always held was smoothed over. He wasn’t staring with intensity or hostility. He was just looking, trying to connect with him.

Chase fully turned his body to face House. House’s prying often led to the target of his questions feeling attacked, embarrassed, and uncomfortable, but in contrast to how Chase felt earlier, he didn’t feel any of that. He felt oddly secure.

“Yeah, why?” Chase answered simply without giving the question any real consideration.

House shrugged. “It’s a tough situation. Hard for any doctor to handle,”

Chase swallowed thickly. He nodded and crossed his arms. He glanced away from House for a split second before forcing himself to look back and re-engage.

“It is tough,” Chase agreed. House nodded, not breaking eye contact.

Chase took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to keep talking, but he gave into the urge, silently desperate to talk about it.

“It’s just… it sucks to see. And I don’t know what to do. I want to help, but how would I?” Chase felt tears pricking in his eyes again. He knew it had to be visible. He knew the strain in his voice was audible. He knew House knew and it wasn’t uncomfortable. He just let it be.

“I get what you mean,” House didn’t say much, silently encouraging Chase to carry on.

“It’s like… I know. I know what those girls are going through and not everyone will catch it. I did though, but I still don’t know what I can do. It’s…” Chase hesitated. He knew House had caught on, but it was still difficult to say. Despite the tightness in his chest and the way his heartbeat surged, Chase forced himself to keep going.

“Thinking back, I wish someone had noticed but being the one to notice, I don’t know what that accomplishes or if I would have appreciated it back then,”

House stepped forward. Without any of the hesitation Chase had earlier, House wrapped his arms around the younger man.

Chase’s breath hitched. He returned the gesture as soon as his mind recovered from its short circuit.

“We’ll work something out,” House assured. “There’s protocol for situations like these,”

Chase shrugged, still hugging House. “I don’t think it’ll help,”

“I get what you’re saying, but respectfully you’re too close to this situation to make a proper judgement call. You’re thinking about yourself and not what’s best for those girls,” House expressed his opinion quietly and without a hint of insult. His tone was intense yet lacked the hostility and bite his digs usually carried. It was a shock and hurt to hear, but Chase’s rationale kicked in quickly. He nodded, understanding and pulling away from the hug.

“I’ll handle the rest,” House assured. “It’s not your burden anymore,”

Chase nodded. He lingered for a few more seconds before he gathered the courage to turn and leave without another word.