Black Cadillacs

Chapter 12

"Black Cadillac"

Chapters 1-18 by You're out of your vulcan mind

Chapters 19+ by Mara-DragonMaster

Chapter 12


"Yeah, what's up?" Chase was instantly worried; Eloise's voice sounded a little shaky on the other end of the line. He was also surprised that she was calling him at work– she had insisted that they not let House know about her involvement with him, unless absolutely necessary.

"I'm going to need to pick you up a little early, alright?"

"We've got a case."

"I know– but I really need to talk to you."

Something was not good. "Alright, when are you coming?"

"As soon as you can leave. I'm across the street at the cafe."

"Okay. I'll be right down." He hung up and started to wheel towards his crutch on the other side of the room.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Chase jumped in surprise. House was standing in the doorway, with a bemused face.

"I need to go."

"We have a case."

"You can call me if you need me."

"What use would you be?" House motioned to Chase's arm and chair. Chase looked to the floor, then back up.

"Then, I can go." Not a question, it was a statement.

House stepped inside, right into Chase's path. "Nope."

Chase looked up with a roll of his eyes. "House."

"What happened to you?"

Leveling him with his eyes, Chase rested his arms in his lap. "I already told you."

"Yeah, accident. What sort of accident?"

"It doesn't matter. And it's none of your business unless it's affecting my job."

"It's affecting your job. You are basically useless to me if you can't walk." House sat down at the table.

"Right, because everyone knows cripples can't be good doctors." Chase deadpanned.

"Right… Heyyy," House grinned and shook his finger at Chase, sarcastically. Chase rolled his eyes and tried to wheel towards his crutch. Tried because as he passed House, House stuck his cane in between the spokes of the wheels, effectively locking him in place.

"Come on, House! Just leave me alone!" He gritted in frustration, and twisted his body and reached down to try to pull the cane from the wheels– but he quickly sat up again, gasping in pain.

House frowned, immediately concerned. "What's the matter?"

"Ribs." He pressed his left hand to his left side, but quickly pulled it away when the touch stung; his hand was covered in red. "I think I pulled the stitches." Chase said, staring at his hand in a trance. Blood… he was bleeding. He was going to die, alone on that dirty floor, because no one noticed he was being led by gunpoint out of the hospital.

It was so cold in the room…

House saw Chase's eyes glaze over as he stared at the blood on his hand. He watched mesmerized as Chase sat mesmerized, trying to figure out what was going on, what was going through his employee's head. His trance was broken when Chase shivered and started to fall out of the chair. House dove and caught him just in time, but he'd put weight on his bad leg. Seeing stars House grunted in pain. They both ended up on the floor

Foreman and Cameron chose that moment to enter the room with the latest test results for their patient.

"What's going on?" Foreman hurried over to move Chase back into his chair. Cameron hurried over to help House.

Foreman cursed lightly when his hand came away wet. He saw the red blossoming on Chase's shirt, and glared angrily at House's cane still stuck in the wheels of the chair. "What the heck did you do?"

"What makes you think this was… oh." House saw the incriminating cane.

"You want to know what happened so bad you're willing to endanger him?!" Foreman seethed. "Leave him be! He's obviously been through something bad, can't you leave it at that?"

"Guys…" Cameron's voice tried to intersect the conversation.

"Well if everything is so obvious, what do you think happened to him?"


Foreman glared at House. "I don't know. And I don't want to know, until he wants to tell me."

House was about to continue the argument when Cameron cut in. "Hey! Chase is still bleeding."

Eloise looked at her phone in annoyance when it started to go off again. She didn't really want to talk to anyone. She was still upset about Michael. He was a jerk– worse than a jerk. He'd hurt her and humiliated her, and she'd been ready to write him off but she had never expected him to die. The good die young, so by her figuring Michael's life expectancy was like two hundred. She couldn't believe he was dead, and she was ashamed that she was… relieved. Not that he was dead. But she was relieved that she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

How could she?

She finally grabbed the offending phone. "Hello?"

"Eloise. It's Cynth."

Eloise was immediately on edge. Cynthia Travis– the doctor in charge of Chase's case. "Yes? What happened?"

"You told me to tell you if Dr. House tried to get Dr. Chase's medical report."

Eloise sighed; just House being nosy again. She'd been sure the garter belt in Wilson's bookcase would have distracted him for at least another day. "Yes, did he get them?"

"No, he said that Chase had fainted and pulled some stitches, so I just told them what medicine he had been prescribed so they could treat him."

"Did he bother you for anything else?"

"No. I mean he asked for the records, but when I said they were classified, he asked for just the meds."

Eloise felt her throat constrict. "Thanks Cynth." She hung up and left the cafe.

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