Author's Note: I do not own the television show House or any of its characters.

Well, here's my latest Chase/Thirteen fanfiction. This time, however, it's not just Chase and Thirteen's relationship that's growing, but we also get the surprise return of Cameron. Hmm...you'll just have to see where this goes. Hopefully, it will keep you all entertained because I had a great time writing it (ha ha, I'm a dork).

I think I've decided to leave Taking Care of You as a one-shot. It was mainly just a character and relationship study, so I don't really have anything else to add to it. But, thank you to all thirteen of my reviewers! I greatly appreciate it and also love everyone who even read the story! This is yet another story where I'm deciding if I want to add more on to it or not. If I do, it may take a bit longer for me to update though since school starts back on August 17 and I'm moving into a new house this weekend. This isn't going to be a multi-chapter fanfiction, but I am thinking about writing a sequel. Please let me know what you think!

Just so you know, there are references from Taking Care of You in this fanfiction. There aren't enough to where you have to read it first, but just some minor ones, mainly about their time together while she was taking care of him when he had the stomach flu. But, if you haven't read it yet, please do. I would love more feedback on it! Reviews make my world go 'round!

Warning: A vulnerable, protective, concerned Thirteen in this fic! Hopefully she's still in character.

Thank you all for reading!

The Hero Game

The impact of another car smashing into his makes Chase spill his morning coffee all over his khakis. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I'm going to die. At first, he doesn't-he can't register what's happening, like his brain has been turned to mush. Everything around him is fading into the bright morning light and then, as soon as everything comes to a stand still, he realizes he's upside down. He can literally touch the road, his hand scraping across the shattered glass that litters every inch of the ground. The newly fallen snow singes his broken skin, burning with an unbelievable fire that he has never felt before.

People are screaming, sobbing, it's the only thing that he can find himself focused on. He can feel the anguish in their rising cries for help, their despair at the world falling apart around them. His heart is exploding in his chest, his pulse far too quick to even be conscious right now. Chase finds himself clawing his way out of the choking seatbelt, lightning shooting up his wrist with every movement, just trying to free himself. His glasses fall off at some point during he re-positionment to being right-side up, but they were probably unusable anyway. He's not exactly sure, he couldn't see anything but black spots anyway.

He's standing on shaky legs, an overwhelming pain forming in his foot. That's when, through clouded vision, he makes out the image of a school bus on fire, flames bursting out the windows, the smell of burning feul making its way into his nostrils, his "spidey senses" just now kicking in. Somehow, Chase can feel himself running over to their aid, but it feels like he's not even moving, like he's super glued to this one specific spot. The kids are yelling the same thing over and over again: Help! Help! Please help me!

Chase realizes he's now pulling children out of the flaming vehicle, not even aware of what he's doing. He finds himself physically on the bus, escorting two or three of them at a time, listening as their screams grow louder and louder as the temperature rises. "It's going to be okay," he tells the little kids, who he assumes were on their way to school this morning just as he was on his way to work. Is it going to be okay? He takes a look around at the twisted pile of metal wreckage covering the interstate and second guesses what he's saying to them.

As soon as he figures out that all of the kids have escaped with minor injuries, he goes to turn around, looking for more people to help. Everyone in this kind of danger needs to get rescued, he's just searching for who right now. "Mister! Mister!" he hears someone shout behind him, tugging on his coat sleeve, aggravating his surely broken wrist even more. He clutches on to it, biting his lip so hard he can taste blood. "Zoey's still on the bus!"

He whips his whole body around, sprinting back in the direction of the bus. He doesn't even remember how he got there, he just knows that the fire's burning his skin, following him with every inch he moves. The girl is unresponsive to him picking her up; all he can hear is the coughs of a sick child who is in need of fresh air. Oh God, she looks like...Thirteen. Dammit, he's seeing her everywhere he goes now, he's gotta stop this. Her face has lacerations covering every inch, her leg twisted at an odd angle as he moves forward. The flames are closing in around him, his fingers now completely raw, his throat scratchy from inhaling all of the smoke. He would hate to know how the little girl, no older than five, feels right now; vulnerable, alone, unsure of what's she supposed to do next with her pathetic excuse of a life.

Oh right, that's him.

Chase quickly lays the small girl down on the ground, as far away from the vehicle as his sore legs would take him. He starts doing CPR out of habit, checking her pulse to find it irregular. Dammit. He remains doing absolutely everything he can, developing quite a crowd school children and other adults around him. One man, maybe a bit older than him with glasses, comes up, assisting him in trying to revive the girl, saying he is a paramedic. Chase doesn't question, doesn't argue, doesn't look for further proof, the two of them just continue to do their job. When the little girl, Zoey's, heart stops beating, he throws himself over her.

Come on, Zoey. Don't do this. Don't do this. You can make it.

It's the worst feeling of all when you're a doctor. Losing a patient isn't something he will ever grow accustomed to, no matter how many times it happens. He keeps doing compressions on the girl's chest, his own wrist protesting the whole time, begging, pleading for his tired body to stop. There's nothing more you can do, his body tells him. His mind tells him something different, that he has to keep trying. Come on. Come on. Come on, God. Don't do this to me. Don't do this to her, her family. Please. He isn't sure where the prayer came from, all he knows is that he said it. Chase hasn't prayed since the night Cameron left him.

From below him, he hears coughing, horrendous-sounding coughing. He looks down to see Zoey staring up at him with bright brown eyes, her hand up to her mouth and covering it, just like her mum taught her to when she was younger. Something inside him makes Chase wrap his arms around the little girl, pulling her close, letting her know that she's safe. "Are you okay, sweetie?" he questions, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

She nods, her throat probably too sore to say anything more. He lifts her up off the ground, noticing the red and blue flashing lights up ahead, the wailing of sirens as more ambulances speed by, the crowd that was once around him vanishing into thin air, leaving him alone with Zoey. He can feel his body start to give up, his muscles aching in exhaustion, his mind screaming for him to take a break. He feels blood trickling out of his ear, matting itself on to his skin, settling in between his coat and his skin. That's not good.

Chase pushes his way through the people who are still waiting for medical treatment, determined to get Zoey up there in time before anything else happens. "Hey, pal, back of the line. We're all waitin' here!" It's funny how selfish others can be when he's carrying an injured little girl in his hands. Does anyone have a soul anymore? He doesn't-he can't say anything back to other man, he just hands the little girl over to the paramedics. As he does, Zoey grabs on to his coat, as if she is telling him not to go.

"You'll be okay," is all he can force himself to utter, shocked at how small his voice sounds. All the little girl does is nod, giving him a small smile as he turns around.

He leaves then, purposely bumping shoulders with the man who just gave him a lecture on how to not cut a line, only sending his whole body into a hell of a lot of pain. Chase limps away, the pain starting to kick in full force. He wraps his coat tighter around his aching limbs, trembling like a junky. A wave of dizziness knocks him to the ground, where he's on his knees, feeling like he's breathing through a straw. He feels someone take his shoulders, shaking him violently. What about Thirteen? is the last thought he has.

And then his whole world goes black.

"What? They're all dead? This is bullshit!" House shouts, throwing his leftover popcorn at the small television he's been watching for a little over four hours now. It's a slow day at the diagnostics department, so why shouldn't he spend his time watching Lost? He glances over at his team who seem to be just as bored as he is. Thirteen has her bare feet kicked back on the coffee table, Foreman is reading a medical journal, Taub is probably having phone sex since House has seen him lift up his shirt at least a dozen times today, and Chase...wait? Where the hell is his youngest duckling?

He limps into the conference room without his cane. House could have sworn he saw Chase earlier today. "Anyone seen Chase?" he questions, sitting down on the desk across from them, letting one of his legs dangle back and forth.

Foreman glances over at him. "No. Didn't you send him home yesterday?" It was for a stupid reason, she thinks. Chase was the only one who would not put on a wizard costume when House wanted to play Dungeons and Dragons: The Hospital Version. House then proceeded to throw a marker at his eye, push him out the door, and quite literally kick his ass as he entered the elevator. Lately, House has been a little more...well, House-ish.

"Hm...maybe I should ask his girlfriend then?" House stands up and then shoves his face right where Thirteen's is.

Thirteen shakes her head, rolling her eyes in the process. "I'm not Chase's girlfriend."

"But you guys do have sex, right?"

"No! What the hell is wrong with you?" Ever since Thirteen took care of Chase a few days ago when he had the stomach flu, she has been being harassed by the department for "banging" her colleague. It started out as House just verbally saying it, but then he started leaving notes just to her, and then began to smack "air ass" as he liked to call it to sell it. She sits her feet back down on the floor, turning to her boss.

She remembers the night she helped Chase home, since he was clearly too out of it to drive, helping him change, staring straight into his eyes, holding his hand as he slept, kissing him lightly on the lips. Thirteen would never ever ever ever dare utter this in front of these boys; they don't need to know how she feels about him.

Because it is obvious that she does care about him.

This time House shakes his head. "Uh huh, sure. Watch out though. I'd hate for you to become Cameron number two. You're too hot for that."

There's no use in storming out of the room like she wants to, that'll just prove House's point even more. Instead, she turns her back to him, returning to the word search she had long ago given up doing. She's so tired of being compared to Cameron. She hears everyday about how Chase hurt her, but she doesn't see that in him. Thirteen can't see how any part of him would want to hurt anyone. Truth be told, she thinks Cameron is a bitch for leaving him, but oh well now, since he's got her now, someone that won't ever leave.

That is, until her own internal clock stops ticking.

She can't even think about leaving him.

Just then, Cuddy storms into the room. "All of you in the ICU. Now."

"What's going on?" Taub asks.

"There's been a multiple car collision on Interstate 77, dozens of people are hurt. We need all of the extra hands we can get." There's an odd twinkle in Cuddy's eyes that House has only seen when something else is wrong, really wrong. He can see right through her sternness and into her mind. Something else is wrong.

"What else?" House pushes.

Cuddy shakes her head. "Nothing else! Didn't you hear what I just said? People are dying down there, House. Get off your ass and come help."

House gives her a smile. "What else is wrong?"

His ex-girlfriend's face falls, the guard and wall shattered. "Chase was in the car accident."

She doesn't even re-call jumping out of her seat and bolting out the door of the conference room, all Thirteen knows is that she did. Now, she's hurtling toward the ICU faster than her legs can carry her, tripping over her own two feet multiple times during the short journey. Her pulse is so fast that she's sure her heart is going to explode, sweat dripping down her face, tears swelling up in her eyes. She doesn't let them fall, she can't right now.

Thirteen pushes open the door to the intensive care unit to find doctors scattered everywhere, helping everyone they can. It's crazy; people are shouting, crying, begging, pleading, it's nothing like she's ever heard before. There have been catastrophes in the past, of course, but it's different this time. She didn't know anyone involved, she didn't really care about anyone involved. She just treated them and everything returned back to normal.

She runs around the room like a chicken with her head cut off, wandering aimlessly for any sign of Chase. She stops a nurse, her voice frantic and out of control as she asks to see Robert Chase. The young nurse leads her over to his bed and she is appalled by what she sees. His once live and bright, short blond hair is matted to his forehead, his forehead and cheek gashed open, almost looking as if he's been burned by something. There's a pillow resting underneath his left wrist, same with his left foot since they haven't had enough time to properly take care of him, an IV hooked up to him to administrate fluids to his tired body.

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. She's so surprised that he's even conscious right now.

She sits down gently on the side of his bed, grabbing his uninjured hand, stroking it. Amongst all of the chaos around her, Thirteen breaks down, the tears flowing out of her like a leaky hose. "I-I thought you were dead. Just for a second...I-I thought I'd n-never be able to see you again. Oh...Oh my God...I'm so glad you're okay!" She can't help but wrap her arms around his body, noticing how he's still shaking from the harsh weather outside.

"Remy, shh...I'm okay." He hasn't known what it felt like for people to actually care about his safety and wellbeing in forever. He rubs soothing circles on her back, trying to make her sobbing stop. It doesn't matter that she's brushing up against his leg, all that matters is that their together in each others arms.

Chase is eventually moved into a private room, thanks to Cuddy. Thirteen hasn't left his side, curled up against him, feeling the warmth of his body soak into hers like a sponge. Foreman informed him that he had a broken wrist, broken foot, a severe concussion, and some minor bruises and sprains, nothing too major in his eyes. He doesn't even care about that right now, he's just glad that Thirteen...Remy is here next to him.

His mind flashes back to earlier that day with Zoey and his heart stops beating for a few moments. Oh God, he never even asked about her! He just abandoned her and didn't even have the common decency to check on her again. Chase forces himself to sit up, struggling with even this small task, his wrist in agony during these movements.

"Chase?" Thirteen mumbles, still half-asleep.

"Sorry," he says. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"What're you doing? Are you okay?"

"I gotta go check on this little girl from earlier today that I helped. I want to make sure she's okay." He's still in the process of trying to swing his legs over the side of the hospital bed, but Thirteen stops him, lightly pushing him back on to the mound of pillows behind him, his body still screaming in agony from all of the day's events. He attempts to do it again, but the same thing happens, ending with him whimpering.

She just shakes her head. "You need to rest. Whoever this girl is, she can wait til morning, okay?"

He nods, not in the mood for arguing with her.

Thirteen pulls the blankets back up, lays down and snuggles up against his chest, listening as his pulse slows back down to normal, his breathing becoming even once again. She smiles when he starts to snore, something she never would have expected him to do. Then again, there are a lot of things she didn't expect out of Chase...Robert.

Chase is still out like a light. He's curled into a ball on his side, which Thirteen is surprised isn't uncomfortable given his current state, looking more peaceful than she's used to seeing him. She got up a few hours ago to get ready and give him some time to sleep considering they had been up most of the night just talking. Now, she's in a chair next to his bed, flipping through a magazine, uninterested in whatever it's about.

The sliding door to his room slides open, revealing someone that Thirteen thought she would never see again. She feels herself stop breathing, her heart begin to race wildly out of control. She feels as if she can't move, like she's stuck in one spot, too flabbergasted to do anything besides stare intently.

Allison Cameron stands there, her purse clutched in both of her hands, her knuckles ghost white. She got the call that her ex-husband had been in a car accident only a few hours ago and was informed that he never took her off his emergency contact list. In fact, her name was the only one on the list, which is even more shocking. She doesn't want to see him at all, but it's about time she started to be honest with him.

"You're...You're..." Thirteen stammers, feeling like an idiot, pointing to her stomach.

Cameron nods. "Pregnant," she finishes, rubbing her belly, which has expanded quite a bit since the last time she saw her.

Thirteen's jaw hits the floor, her ability to think shattered by the woman standing in front of her. Oh my God is what she repeats over and over again in her mind, so many times that she think she may blow up if she says it anymore. There's no way this is happening, this can't be possible...Oh my God.

"Is-Is it Chase's?" she asks, pointing over to the still sleeping man, obviously extremely doped up on morphine.

Cameron nods once again. "It couldn't be anyone elses." She remembers the night she conceived their baby all too well. It had all started out with her coming to PPTH for him to sign their divorce papers and the escalated into something else, them connecting again, much quicker. She isn't quite sure how to feel knowing that their baby's father is a murderer and that this little guy is Chase's son.

Thirteen still doesn't know what to say, her anger getting the best of her. She doesn't know who she's more angry at: Cameron for even showing up here in the first place or Chase for getting her pregnant. Her logical side is screaming that they were still married when it happened, but her heart is so mad that it's the product of him and Cameron.

She can feel the tears streaming down her face, wiping them away out of embarrassment. This is what the bitch came here to do, destroy her. "Why-Why're you here?"

"I'm still listed as Chase's emergency contact."

She nods, more hot tears sprinkling everywhere. Of course he doesn't change her, he still loves her, he still feels something for her. Why else would he still have her connected to him in case there's an emergency. It wouldn't matter to her if it was Foreman or Taub or even House for God's sake, but the fact that it's Cameron makes her sick.

"Remy?" Chase finally rolls over to face her, still exhausted. "What's wrong?" And that's when he sees her standing in front of him, a woman he never wanted to see again in his life, the woman who ripped his heart out and threw away his love. His eyes automatically wander down to her stomach, his eyes growing wide. Oh my God, she's...

Thirteen doesn't need anymore information than this. She's heard all she needs to hear. She doesn't know how she missed the signs that Chase still loved Cameron, they're everywhere. Damn, she's so freaking stupid. Instead of confronting the problem like she would normally do, she finds herself picking up her purse and storming out of the ICU, looking back several times at the man she thought she had feelings for. The man she basically gave her heart to without him even knowing. What the hell is wrong with me?

Chase scrubs his right hand down the side of his face, his heart racing at the sight of his ex-wife. God, she's pregnant too. First, he makes the only woman he really cares about mad and now he has to face the one he's been trying to erase from his memory for just under a year. Just dandy. It's creepy to him that she's standing there, not moving.

"I'm due in a month, if you're wondering," Cameron blurts out of nowhere. She isn't sure why she didn't start off by asking him how he is, but she can already see it. She can still see the hurt on his face from their break-up, from her having to beg him to sign the divorce papers. He looks the same, only different, more tired, hair shorter than ever, a little less Chase than she remembered. She doesn't know how to feel about that either.

Chase nods. "Well, that clears up about a percent of what I'm thinking."

Cameron slowly takes a seat in the chair next to his bed. "That's why I'm here though. I needed to tell you about this." It's something she's been wanting to tell him about for eight months now, back to the very day she found out she was pregnant.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Chase would usually be angry right now, but he has nothing left in him to fight with. After all, they pretty much cleared their relationship up on the night he signed the divorce papers, there's no reason to get angry anymore. He knows that this is a consequence of un-protected sex just like anyone else. But, that doesn't matter since he broke Thirteen's heart, he's ruined their relationship even if it didn't necessarily exist yet, and everything that they had literally fell apart within seconds.

His ex-wife shrugs. "I-I was scared. I didn't know what to do and I was so angry for you at what you had done. But, now I know that I can't do this on my own and that this little guy needs a father."

A father?

Every time he hears that word, he cringes and finds himself diving back into his childhood. He can't imagine being a dad to this baby, this baby would end up hating him just like he hated his dad. He gets scared crapless though whenever Cameron grabs his hand, placing it carefully on his stomach. He feels the baby kick joyfully multiple times and he can't help but smile. He should be so much more mad than this, but feeling this new life practically touch him makes him feel something different, something he's never felt before.

"It's a boy?" he asks, still grinning.

"Yep, he's due on February 8th, which is really close to your birthday."

He nods. His son, his baby boy, part of him is living inside Cameron, is ready to be born any time now. Chase isn't sure what to think, other than he's actually excited about the arrival of this little guy. But, then he looks at the happiness plastered all over his ex's face, her joy about him wanting to take part in his life, and thinks of who he made leave just minutes ago. He has to get her back, there has to be a way.

"Cameron, don't."

She scoots back a bit, thrown off by his change in attitude. "Don't what?"

"Don't try to make everything okay. Don't try to pressure me into giving us another shot."

"But, I-I figured that's what you wanted and I'm...ready now."

He shakes his head. "No, no you're not. That bit of hesitation right there proves it all. Plus, I can't-I won't do it again. I've finally accepted that you were gone, don't try to change that. I've spent too many nights drinking into oblivion to go back now, too long trying to forget you. You can't change the past, especially one that you created."

Chase is shocked when all Cameron does is nod, a few tears escaping. He can't figure out if they're real or not, but it doesn't stop him from reaching out to hold her hand in comfort. "I'm sorry for what I did to you," is what she says, pulling her hand away from him, standing up with uneasiness settling in her stomach.

"Cameron, wait. I still want to be involved in his life, please don't get me wrong. I don't even know him, I haven't seen him, but I do love him."

And maybe, just maybe, he loves someone else too.

Chase is half-asleep when the door begins to slide open again. He wipes his face, probably still tear stained after his ex-wife left once again, his eyes barely able to stay open. Out of blurry vision, he makes out the outline of a little girl being pushed in a wheelchair into his room, a huge smile on her face.

"Hi, Dr. Chase!" she says a bit too loudly for his sensitive ears.

"Zoey?" he says, sitting up a bit straighter, still holding his blankets close.

"I'm all better now! The other doctors said I'd be just fine."

He can't help but smile, thinking back to his conversation with Cameron about his son. He thinks about playing rugby with him, teaching him how to ride a bike, changing his diapers, everything a father would look forward to upon their son's arrival. Chase then frowns when he realizes something that makes him sick to his stomach: he's going to be a part-time dad, just like his own dad was. Dammit, why didn't I think about that before?

"That's great!" he beams. No use in bringing a five year old down.

"Is your hand okay?"

He nods, grinning. "Yeah, it's fine."

"Ooh, can I sign your cast? I have markers in my bag!"

"Sure," he says, holding out his left arm. He watches the little girl scribble happily all over the blue material of his cast, smiling the whole time. He hopes this is what being a father feels like, just making his son happy, just holding him, just watching him sleep at night. Chase cannot wait for his little boy to be born.

"Thank you for saving my life," Zoey says whilst coloring.

He hopes he has Zoey's bright eyes and personality and doesn't end up alone like him.

Thirteen walks into Chase's room later that evening, surprised that the door is open, letting in all of the cold night air. He's bundled up underneath blankets that aren't even from the hospital, realizing that someone else may have dropped them off for him. She quietly sits down on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on his back, feeling his muscles twitch. He rolls over groggily and immediately smiles when he sees who it is.

"Hey," he says weakly.

She's spent the whole day thinking about what she would say to him, but nothing ever sounding right. Yes, she couldn't be any more mad about the whole Cameron situation, but it was while they were still married, so she can't stand angry for forever. She's so stupid, she knows that Chase doesn't love her anymore, he has feelings for someone else now. All she does is wrap her arms around him, passionately kissing him on the lips.

Outside, House watches as his employees get it on, smiling evilly the whole time. Wilson is standing there, completely appalled, wondering if he should cover his eyes. "And you, my friend, owe me twenty dollars."

Author's Note: Wow, this one was even longer than Taking Care of You. Hopefully, this kept you entertained though and didn't bore you to death. I'm so sorry if any of the characters were out of character, but I really wanted Chase to just be accepting since he and Cameron already had this conversation back in "Lockdown". I've always wanted them to do a storyline where Cameron comes back pregnant from that night, but it doesn't look like they're going to, so I just had to write it for myself. Anyway, thank you oh so much for reading! Anyone who reviews will receive a complimentary microwave oven, some freshly made cookies, and an ice cold glass of milk, the perfect appliance plus snack!