With a little help from my friend

Chase entered his boss's office to let the other doctor know he's ready to start his working day. He was late because he needed to see a lawyer because Allison had sent the divorce papers. After months of trying to adjust to his new live without her by drinking through the nights and not getting enough sleep he finally made it to the point where he accepted his wife's decision and got himself a lawyer. Even if he knew he wouldn't need anybody to sign three damn papers, but no one had asjed him and so he met the guy today.

Hangover and still depressed after his talk with Mr. "we will send your bad wife to hell"-guy he stood in front of his boss and rolled his eyes after he heard House mocking him about being late.

"Nice you finally could make it and do your damn job!"

"I told Foreman I would be late." Chase tried to defend himself.

"Yea, yea …" House scrolled.

"He didn't mention it?" Chase asked.

"Sure he did, I'm not always listening to what he's saying. Turned out, our 'relationship' works much better if we're sometimes ignoring each other." House said while he got up from his chair and limped into the conference room.

"Why are you late? I'm sure he didn't mention that…"

"…"

Chase remembered the awkward situation in the lawyer's office earlier that day. The man was eager to proof to Chase that 'he was on his side'. Chase could only participate in half of the conversation because his head was still pounding from the booze that night and because he really thought the lawyer was quite an ass. He just wanted to sign these damn papers and move on. Or at least go to work and later home and drink a few more shots to help him sleep, only to get up the next morning and head back to work, like every other fucking day in his now miserable life.

But he would never tell House or any other person what he was doing this morning and so he just kept quiet and followed House into the conference room.

….

"You missed breakfast. …" House suddenly changed the topic, maybe because he knew Chase wouldn't tell what he was doing or maybe he really wasn't interested. 'No! House is always interested!' Chase thought but decided to drop this thought.

"Thanks I already had some coffee on my way ov…." But was cut off by his boss.

"But you're lucky, I felt nice enough today to rescue some of it for you. Had to tackle Taub, indeed that was fun. … It's on the table." He pointed with his cane at a tablet on the huge glass table which had a little plastic cup, which Chase recognized from the pharmacy from PPTH, and a syringe set for doing blood work on it.

"What's that?" Chase asked with a frown on his face.

"Antibiotics." House stated.

"Oh!" The younger doctor said while taking the pills out of the cup, looking at them.

"And you have to draw some blood for the labs… we need to see if there are any little thyphis swimming around in there…" House said while pouring some coffee into his red mug.

"So it was Typhus?" Chase asked referring to the latest case the team had.

"Yep! And now we all had this nice breakfast of antibiotics and drawing blood from each other. Sorry you've missed it."

"What a shame. But I think I can live with it."

"Yeah you would think so, but now you have to draw your own blood. I got Thirteen to draw mine!" House mocked and winked at him.

Chase smirked at that and took a glass of water from the table in attempt to swallow the pills.

"Whoa slow down!" House interrupted him. "You first have to get the blood than take the pills."

Chase looked confused at his boss and then at the syringe.

"You want me to do it now, here?" he asked with a slight tremor in his voice.

"You're a Doctor, right?!" House asked Chase a bit annoyed by the other man's hesitation.

"…."

"For God's sake! Don't tell me you're afraid of needles?" – Even more annoyed.

"I … I'm not afraid. I'm just … it's not so easy to do it on your own!" Chase stuttered.

"Phff, tell me about it!" House retorted with a huff.

Chase took the syringe in his right arm and sat down on one chair. He put the tourniquet on his left arm and tried to take a deep breath before sticking the needle into his vein. His hand was shaking and he obviously hesitated. He always used to be a lightweight when it comes to performing doctor stuff on himself. Normally he would be able to buck up but after this nerve wrecking morning and his hangover still sapping his energy he felt panic rise in his chest and he wondered if it would be the lesser evil to run away and hide in the clinic or ICU for the rest of the day.

House shook his head at that poor sight and limped towards the young man telling him, "Okay, let's get this over with, I'll do it!"

Chase looked at House with big but thankful eyes. Maybe this was his salvation.

"Give me!" House mentioned towards the syringe in Chase's hand. He let go of the syringe and House sat in front of Chase.

"Lean back and try to relax." He said in a grumpy voice and Chase tried to but instead he's whole body got stiff.

House recognized and rolled his eyes. "I said relax not clench."

Chase only gave a shrug and shifted in his chair, turning his head away, not facing his arm which House was holding and patting to make the vein more visible.

"You're really afraid of being punctured? Jeez how do you even made it through med school?"

Again one slight shrug from the young man, "I used to linger in the back and never volunteered…"

"That's just pathetic." House stated. He pulled the tourniquet a bit tighter.

Chase winced. "Hey careful…there...That hurts!"

"You're pathetic."

"Okay. Here we go! Little pinch and…" the blood began to flow into the glass vial. Chase didn't want to look, but couldn't resist the urge and as he did he felt his stomach churn. He tried to look away but could only shift his whole body in his chair. Eyes still clued on the needle which seemed to suck out the very last bit of energy from him that he's got left today.

"..hey hold still!" House growled."Don't wanna pinch something else here!"

Chase didn't react to House's order and shivered slightly. His breathing began to quicken and he swallowed convulsively.

House recognized his minion's behavior and addressed him with a strong voice,"... Chase!"

"…" no respond from the younger doctor followed. He started to feel dizzy and he had to fight hard not to throw up in front and on his boss.

"You're not going to pass out, are you? You look kind of pale." House asked looking him straight in the eyes. Distress, panic and nausea were all written over the young man's face and House started to worry Chase might be losing his fight against the big breakdown, which would lead to him collapsing.

Chase swallowed again, "I don't feel so good. I'm .. kindof.. sick…." His voice trailed and his head tilted forward.

"Chase!" House pated Chase's cheeks, recognizing the cold and clamminess of the skin. "Hey Chase, focus! Look at me! Take a deep breath. … Shit!"

Chase's body got limp and slumped forward forcing the needle deeper into his vein. House felt the syringe crack under the pressure.

"Damn. Chase! Get. Up." House tried to reach the other man. But Chase was already unconscious and his body became incredible heavy. House wasn't able to save the blood sample. He let the vial go and it rolled on the floor soaking the carpet with the red fluid. House tried to lift Chase's body back in the chair but a sharp pain in his bad leg forced him to stay the way he was. His upper part of the body slightly bent forward and Chase's body leaning forward towards his. House tried to stretch his leg but the upcoming cramp made it impossible for him to move and so he took a deep breath to ease the pain.

It must have looked like a hug to Foreman as he came walking into the conference room, but the tension and awkwardness told him something was terrible going wrong. He stood and looked confused at the two twisted doctors, and the blood on the floor.

House's "Need a little help here!" broke the silence and Foreman run over to his colleague.

"What happened? What's with Chase?" He grabbed the blond one on his shoulders and lifted him back in his chair. Chase's head immediately slumped back and rolled to the side.

"Slow down! I think I broke the needle." House tried to stop Foreman. The Neurologist looked at the arm of his co-worker and watched as House pushed back only the back end of the needle. Blood was flowing out of the little gap on Chase's arm.

"It looks like you cut him with the needle when he was falling forward."

"Looks like it! Okay let's lie him down on the floor, we can get the tip of the needle out later. First make sure he's breathing and stable."

Foreman did as he was told and lifted Chase from the chair to the ground with a self-motivating, "Okay here we go!"

House shifted in his chair and was relieved to feel the cramp in his bad leg finally ease.

House bent down to Chase and grabbed his wrist, checking his pulse. It was slow and unsteady. The diagnostician noticed that Chase flinched a bit by the touch, which he considered as positive. The boy wasn't as out as he first feared.

Suddenly while Foreman was checking Chase's eyes with his penlight the young unconscious doctor began to stir. His head rolled left then right and he began to swallow convulsively like he did before the collapse. The swallowing turned into a retching.

"He's throwing up! Roll him over! He's going to aspirate…" House commanded, and Foreman did as he was told.

Chase was now lying on his side stabilized by Foreman holding his back and shoulder. Foreman felt terrible for Chase who was retching spasmodically. Obviously he hadn't much eaten today which made puking more painful and hard. House winced at the sound coming from his little duckling. God he knew how terrible puking on an empty stomach could be. Thankfully Chase wasn't lucid enough to recognize every spasm his body experienced.

Foreman began to stroke little comforting circles on Chase's back, helping him to relax and maybe showed him he wasn't left alone. House watched his two employees and had to admit that Foreman's interaction with Chase was nice and to be honest he was glad Foreman was there, because he of course wouldn't do such a caring thing. Both men didn't say anything nor looked at each other.

Both could smell the stench of puke and both of them were aware of the smell of alcohol too, which now covered the diagnostic department like a little cloud of secret and sorrow.

Finally the retching stopped and Chase's body relaxed a bit.

Foreman turned him over a bit to look at his face. "He's still out of it, maybe due to exhaustion."

House nodded, "Okay I have to get the needle out." He again bent over and looked closely at the bleeding wound. "Hmm … I think I hit the muscle a bit." He stated.

Foreman turned and examined Chase's arm quickly by looking at it without touching, "He's going to have one nasty bruise there."

"I think he'll live", was all what House had to add to Foreman's statement.

"I'll need a pair of tweezers to get this damn needle out." Foreman could tell House was pissed regarding to the sound of his voice. He wondered if his boss was angry or worried or maybe both of it. House himself was never a doctor who turned down a shot of whiskey or bourbon even in the hospital while working on a case. But after Mayfield and his detox maybe his margin towards doctor's wallowing in self-pity wasn't as high as it had been. Or he was just as shocked and disappointed as Foreman was and only was trying to figure out what step should be done now. What they were supposed to do after finding out? Should they even do something? Did they figure something out? Was there even disclosed a secret or was Chase just partying the other night? He did come in late today ...

"Put him on my comfy chair in the office." House interrupted Foreman's thoughts. He was standing in his office with the pair of tweezers and bandages in his hand which he got while Foreman was mulling over Chase, still sitting next to him on the floor.

Chase wasn't as heavy to lift as Foreman expected. And he was easily able to carry him to the big chair. After Chase was settled in House stepped next to Foreman and passed him the medical equipment.

"And draw some blood before he's awake again. Don't want to repeat this whole pathetic act."

Foreman started working on his coworkers arm while House picked up the telephone-speaker and grumbled something like, "Need cleaning power in the diagnostic-office, fourth floor, some ill-bred womb… Patient puked on my nice carpet. …okay, thanks."

House sat on his chair with a sigh and watched Foreman closely treating Chase's wound.

"How is he?" he asked after a while when he recognized Foreman lifted himself up from the floor and walked over to House's desk.

"He's okay for now." Foreman answered and sat in front of House.

"He's unconscious." House retorted annoyed. "He's not okay!"

Foreman rolled he's eyes. "He's sleeping, probably for the first time in months."

"He's passed out." House stated. "And he's hangover …"

"Hence the sleeping …" Foreman ended his bosses' statement.

House looked deep into his co-worker's eyes and Foreman could tell he wanted him to admit it …

"Okay! Maybe he's not okay," he huffed. "But physically he's all right. A bit dehydrated, but that's to be expected after binge drinking and that much puking … I guess"

House nodded, but didn't say anything.

Both sat there for a while in silence observing Chase who was still sleeping peacefully.

"He's a moron." House suddenly said.

"He's having a rough time." Foreman tried to defend Chase.

"Doesn't make him any less of a moron, in fact it proves it." House bounced his cane on the floor.

"So what are we supposed to do?" Foreman asked. "Should we admit him and blackmail him to get some help by using our medical power?"

"No! That wouldn't work." House shook his head.

"It worked for you", Foreman pointed out.

House blinked at him "Great! Let's call Mayfield … maybe I'll get an extra free therapy session for recommendation."

Foreman rolled his eyes, "That's not what I meant. He doesn't need to be hospitalized. He just needs to talk to someone. Get. Some. Help."

House didn't respond for over three minutes. Foreman was bright enough not to interrupt him during his thinking process.

Finally House took his cane and rose from his chair. "I'll take care of it!"

Foreman looked stunned. "What? ... You're going to talk to him!? …"

"I said I'll take care of it … didn't I?"

"….."

Foreman didn't thought House would be the right choice to talk to anyone who's lovesick and desperate, let alone Chase whose marriage just blow off because House couldn't let go of his stupid mind games.

"What, you think I'm not capable of helping a smashed and love-sick wombat?"

Foreman looked at House and tried his best, "I … I just … I don't think you're … I mean … you're…"

House grinned at Foreman who was struggling. "I'm what? ... I'm miserable, mean, incapable of lying and therefore rude and blunt, ….?"

Foreman stood up and with a strong voice he said, "No! But you're hurt too!"

House's grinning faded a bit.

"And you're an ass!" Foreman added.

Hearing that House had to smirk again and he turned to the door saying, "take the blood to the lab and shut the blinds in my office. Tell Thirteen and Taub to stay away and let sleeping beauty get his beauty sleep. I'm back in a few hours."

[H]OUSE M.D.

Chase was standing in the hallway outside of the diagnostic department. He was looking through the glass walls into the conference room, observing a custodial worker cleaning up the mess he's done a few hours before. He woke up in House's office lying in the comfy chair covered in some blanket from the hospital. It took a while for him to remember what had happened and why he had a big bandage around his arm. But he remembered now and he even felt more humiliated as he saw House limping towards him. He tried to straighten up and took a deep breath. He didn't know what to expect, what sort of abuse he had to face by meeting his manipulative boss after this day's events.

Against ones expectations House just stood next to him without saying anything or doing anything except watching the cleaner doing his work just as Chase did.

Chase couldn't stand the tension anymore and finally he whispered, "I'm pathetic!"

House pursed his lips and bounced his cane on the floor, "The human race is pathetic."

"You said I'm pathetic." Still facing the floor in the other room covered with his puke and blood which he took as a great witness of his poorness.

"True! But again we're all from time to time!" House stated. "How's your arm?"

Chase now turned his eyes away from the floor and looked at his arm, "Better. Thanks."

"Good. I hit the muscle as the needle pushed through your vein, should be a nice bruise by now!"

"You stabbed me!" Chase raised his voice in shock.

"You passed out!" House countered. "Dude, you fell on me! The least bit of my muscle I've left in my bed leg cramped because of you."

"You cut my muscle with a needle, mate!" Chase knew he had no chance to win this argument, but didn't stop either.

"Because YOU passed out", House didn't let go off that incident. "You're the doctor with needle-phobia. And by the way, that's just really pathetic!"

Chase let out a deep sigh and let his head rest on his chest, "I'm such a wuss!"

House smirked a bit and grabbed a sheet of paper out of his jacket. He looked at it for a few seconds "Speaking of …" he said before he showed it to Chase.

Chase took it and looked at it, only reading the headline.

"What's that?" He asked stunned, even he could tell immediately what it was. It was a pamphlet of the AA's. In his past live Chase often had taken such sheets of paper home to his mum. Back then they where sheets of pure hope and pacifier, now they were like manic clowns laughing at him. He closed his eyes to avoid the sight of his future, of what he had become.

House observed his employee. He could tell how much distress was running through Chase. His hands were shaking slightly and his breathing was unsteady. He wondered how long Chase was able to hold it together and could fight off the tears which were burning desperately inside him. Chase's body already had lost his fight today, crashing down during a simple blood work. Chase's mind however seemed to be stronger than he thought. House was glad it was, because dealing with a whining wombat would be much harder than a stoic one, maybe....

"You don't have to thank me!" House just said. "That's going to be your new playgroup. I thought after Cameron gone … you're maybe in need of new friends and buddies."

"Thanks!" Chase whispered. Then he took a deep breath turned around facing House and held out the pamphlet to him.

"Ah- ah- ah! I said NO Thanks!" House held his hand up in the air to show Chase he wouldn't take the sheet back.

"I've got enough friends, don't need new ones." Chase pouted.

"Fine! But maybe you need some friends with let's say the same bad hobby."

"You mean bad habit." Chase was annoyed.

"Call it what you want! Fact is you need some help."

"Look! I'm coping. I'm getting some help already." Chase tried to convince House to let go, to leave him alone.

"Everybody lies." House simply let out.

Chase rolled his eyes. Damn how could he forget about this?

"I'm not! I'm seeing someone. It's really helpful. You said it yourself that it wouldn't need much time to fix me up. You were right House. You're always right."

"Who're you seeing? A psychologist, therapist a dominatrix?"

"Someone."

"How often? Since when? Someone from PPTH?"

"A couple of days now. It's working! Okay!?"

House looked deep into Chase's eyes - he flinched - and suddenly he knew the other one was lying. For a tiny bit of time he had believed him but now he knew he wasn't seeing anyone or talking to anyone except of …

"Oh, don't tell me you're therapists name is Jack?" he huffed.

Chase blinked confused at his boss. "What?"

"Believe me I knew Jack, he's not going to help you! In fact he's a narcissistic little bastard who's going to suck you dry and throw you away as soon as he's done with you. I know he now tells you everything will be fine and he puts you in a nice slumber every night, but that's not going to help you in the long term."

Chase had no idea what House was talking about or who the hell this Jack was. But after a few minutes of brooding he was able to progress this whole Jack-metaphor. To be sure he had simply to ask, "And who might be this Jack?" He pronounced it in a sing song way to cover his annoyance and loss.

"Our best buddy and old friend Jack Daniel's of course." House said pursing his lips into a thin line.

"I once used to trust him myself. But as I said, he's just a jerk who doesn't help at all; in fact he's going to make it rougher for you."

"Shut up House!" Chase whispered. "I'm not a drunk. And I'm never going to be one."

Chase couldn't hold his gaze on his boss. He felt shame and pain all at once and he couldn't face anyone right now. He didn't want to face it and he didn't want to cope! He just wanted to go home and cry like a little baby who just had lost his favorite cuddly toy.

"I'm not saying you're a drunk, Chase. But you aren't okay either." He demonstratively pointed at the dark stain on the carpet in front of them, which was still visibly after the cleaner had gone.

"All I'm saying is that sometimes it's not the best choice to hide and linger in the back, sometimes it's better to volunteer. Even though it sucks and scares the hell out of you."

He then began to walk towards his office and left Chase alone facing the big dark stain on the carpet in front of him which looked like a bad daemon who was going to swallow him at whole or in part.

Chase blinked away his tears, which were now visible and threatening to roll across his cheeks. He shoved the pamphlet in his pocket and made his way slowly to the elevator. He wasn't sure about what was going to happen to him. He was not sure if he would be able to sleep tonight without Jacks help, but he was sure he would try his best to do so.

Hope you liked it! Best whishes and have fun watching the new episode of [H]OUSE today :)

Luv Nely