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House is going to die unless we do something. The cancer had been the only topic on Chase's mind since he'd found out from Cameron, but it was different when he was sitting alone in the lab re-running tests for the fifth time that night. He had to have a breakthrough eventually, right? It wasn't possible for House to have cancer. It didn't make sense. He had no visible symptoms.
But then again, his dad didn't seem sick when he talked to him either. It was only a few months before he died that Rowan Chase had flown all the way up to New Jersey just to disappoint his son one last time by making promises he'd never keep. House could also be just a few months away from his death, and Chase would be none the wiser.
He wasn't going to let that happen. He wasn't going to lose anybody else. He wasn't going to be let down like that ever again.
"Fuck," Chase muttered, looking over the results. They were the exact same as they had been the last four times he'd run them, aka not good. Chase felt tears pool in his eyes as he read them again, before crumpling them up and chucking them into a bin. He'd already almost cried that day when he saw House in his office, having given him a hug that reminded Chase all too much of the last interaction he'd had with his dad before he left Chase for the final time. He put his head in his hands, too tired to care about anything other than the dread in his stomach and the futility of his attempts to change something this time. He didn't even hear the door open behind him or House tapping his cane impatiently on the floor.
"Go home, Chase," he said. "I told you guys to mind your business."
Chase wiped the tears from his eyes and stared at the table, refusing to turn around to face him.
"You're my boss, it's my business if- if you die. I'd have to find work somewhere else."
"That's exactly what Cameron said, and I'll say exactly what I said to her. I'm not dying tomorrow."
You don't know that, Chase thought. He wanted to say it, but he knew if he opened his mouth he'd just end up crying all over again. He didn't even say anything and he was still tearing up, throat tightening uncomfortably.
"I'd like to test a new blood sample," Chase strained after a minute of silence, voice wavering. "This one might- it's possibly too old to get an accurate reading." He knew that he was merely biding time in that room before House kicked him out, but he didn't care.
"At least you have the decency to ask. Cameron tried to distract me by making out with me in my office, but don't you think about trying that with me." Normally, Chase would have made some sort of witty comment, but he didn't say anything. House was standing next to him now, and Chase's mind was lingering on the affects of brain cancer to patients with chronic pain and how it could potentially worsen the preexisting pain. Maybe the reason we didn't know sooner is because he's always in pain already. "Don't get all emotional on me now. It's not like I'm on my deathbed."
Chase didn't know how House was so calm about this. He was dying, and he didn't even seem to care. It almost made him angry how nonchalant House was being about the whole ordeal.
"Do you want to die or something, House?" Chase couldn't suppress the emotion in his face or voice, tears seeping through the cracks in his words.
"Oh, shut up. I'm not dying."
"Then who's results are these? Who's fucking brain scans are these? If you aren't dying, explain why you're going all the way to Boston!"
"I'm not dying. Look—the scans belong to a patient in the Witherspoon wing. They aren't mine." House scoffed and took a seat next to Chase. "You tell anyone and you're fired."
"What-? Why- how-"Chase sputtered, half convinced House was joking. "You can't-"
"And why not? The lovely doctors at Boston are going to put some pleasure drugs straight into my brain, and then I never have to see them again. They think I'm terminal." Chase didn't say anything, his anger being replaced with confusion at House's confession. "Now go home. It's one in the morning for fuck sakes."
"You- you faked cancer? For drugs?" He looked at House with incredulity, not believing that even House would go that far.
"Again, a single word to anyone and you're fired. What part of 'go home' don't you understand?"
Chase awkwardly stood up, still bewildered. Halfway to the door, he turned around and embraced House, who was still sitting at the lab table.
"You're so stupid," Chase whispered, hugging him tighter. House said nothing, and after a minute Chase let go and left, relieved that he wasn't going to lose anyone else anytime soon.
He didn't know how he'd cope if he did.