Misplaced

Author's Notes: This was going to be a drabble, but now, I think I want to put something else into it. Of course I own House, who doesn't if they are writing fanfics like this for nothing? However, I do own some of the characters that are new, like Chase's girlfriend and the new duckling. Nurse Brenda, however, IS a recurring character on House, so, yeah. This isn't graphic; however there will be some themes which can be uncomfortable for some.

Chapter 1: Drowsiness

"Good morning, kids. Say, daddy's run out of coffee. Last person to think of a cause for a blackening liaison on the patient's left thigh goes and grabs me some more." House said cheerily.

"Advanced infection in the blood?" Cameron hinted.

"Contact with large amounts of carbon monoxide?" Foreman stated in a stronger tone.

"Clean tox screen, and O2 stats are normal. What is this, rocket science? No, wait. Medicine, rocket science, rocket science, medicine…"

House then swivelled around on his cane to Chase's usual seat.

"No Chase? Did he chicken out and run off before I kicked his wombat ass or is he really that dumb?"

Neither, it seemed, as Chase walked pass the glass panel and headed towards the door.

Only, it seemed to be an altered Chase walking in the door. His deep, blue-green eyes were dry-looking. The skin on his face which usually glowed for no reason was dull and pale, odd for the lightly tanned male. Dark blonde hair, naturally free-falling and slightly wavy was now just sad and limp. What had caused this dramatic change would be unexplainable to the average thinking mind, but House was inventing all sorts of diagnoses.

"Sorry, bad night's sleep." Chase croaked. An untouched coffee mug was in his hand. Perfect.

"Yeah, we all have 'em. Why do you need the extra attention?" House retaliated, snatching the coffee and heading down the hall.

"You're caring about the physical condition of one of your employees? How very Oprah Winfrey of you." The voice of an intrigued friend called from behind House.

"Nope. Just giving away 500 grand cars for the hell of it." He shot back.

"Liaison patient showing any new symptoms?" Wilson inquired.

"Nope."

"No low-cut blouse on Cuddy today either."

"Aw, man. Next thing you know, I'll have the hooker go to Colorado."

They turned the corner that headed back to House's office. From a distance, they noted that Chase had moved to the couch. Cameron was sitting next to him, Foreman still at the table, but not too far away either.

"Cute. Never realised they loved their big brother that much." House remarked.

"Interesting, yes." Wilson commented.

Then, unexpectedly, the sound of clicking heels snuck up behind them.

"House!" Cuddy yelled.

"Cuddy!" House yelled back.

"Clinic needs you. Exam room 4."

"Oh, joy. The clinic never ceases to torture, does it?"

"It won't unless you get your ass in there right now!" Cuddy finished. However, she looked past the two men's shoulders, into the glass panels of the office. House's office.

"Why is Chase on the couch?"

House turned around. Sure enough, a few locks of hair and shoeless feet were sticking out from either end of the couch. Sitting before, sleeping now.

"House…is going to inspect the cause of Chase's…alignment, very soon, Cuddy." Wilson quickly stated, walking off back to his office.

This was aggravating. All he wanted to do was torture Chase, and now Wilson said he had to go and treat him! Argh, the irritation of it!

"You owe me big time, Jimmy." He muttered under his breath.