{Supernatural/House} Ficlet 7 - Mistakes
Ficlet Name: Mistakes
Fandom: Supernatural / House Crossover
Author: Bon
Rating: 18
Part: 7
Words: 838
Summary: Part of the seven ficlets in seven days challenge. Doctor Chase is now out on his own in Houston General after his internship with House. A patient presents with a rather unusual set of symptoms and it’s up to Chase to make the diagnosis.
~#~#~
Chase was on cloud nine when he walked into the hospital. Details of the previous night’s call still buzzed around his head. Who knew that his sexy southern accent would sound even better through a phone line? And who would have thought that he’d end up screaming down the phone as John described exactly what they would have been doing if he had been there? But instead he was on the other side of the country, tracking down the demon who had taken over his body and almost killed him. The man was persistent, Chase had to give him that, and sexy as hell.
Chase signed the register as he clocked in for the afternoon shift in the emergency room. A Monday afternoon, this would be kids soccer game injuries or road traffic accidents, nothing strenuous. Or at least that’s what he thought until the doors slammed open and the ambulance team rolled in Chase’s worst nightmare.
Deep lacerations. Massive blood loss. Stats in the toilet. Multiple broken bones. Unconscious, mercifully so. It wasn’t until he got to the face that his own heart nearly stopped. It was a face he’d seen a hundred times. Short blond hair, cropped into something that was reminiscent of a military style. The face of an angel with the pout of a demon.
Chase looked around, registering what the paramedics were saying on what must have been a subconscious level. Where was the other piece of the puzzle? Dean Winchester never came on his own. So where the hell was Sam?
Another trolley slammed through the doors. Chase moved to the second trolley, fearing that his question was about to be answered. Dark brown eyes looked around wildly, searching for something. Chase could guess what it was.
“Sam? Sam? Can you hear me?” Chase tried to get the boy’s attention.
The dark eyes locked on his for a moment.
“Sam? Dean is here. We’re working on him now. Don’t worry. He’s in good hands.” Chase reassured him. “I’ll keep you informed.”
Chase watched as the brothers were rolled into adjoining trauma rooms, teams already working frantically. Chase bounced between the cubicles, helping, directing.
After what seemed like hours, the boys were shipped out to their own rooms, stable.
Chase breathed a sigh of relief. Digging his phone out from his pocket, he dialled the by now familiar number.
“John? You sitting?” Chase asked. “Well, I think you better. The boys just got brought in. I dunno what they were fighting but it’s serious. We got them stabilised. Everything looks good. Most of the problem was blood loss and shock.”
Chase paused, listening to the man on the other end of the phone. He could almost see John gathering up his things, shoving them in pockets and bags as he asked the necessary questions. He finally had the man calmed down, promising to call him every twelve hours with an update. But he couldn’t blame him. These were his boys and even though he hadn’t physically seen them in the guts of a year, he still cared. He was doing this for them.
“Love you too, John. Talk to you later.”
Chase turned around, wanting to take one more look at the boys before hanging up, only to find himself looking into Sam’s brown eyes. The boy was barely standing, leaning heavily on his IV stand. The boy shouldn’t be standing, let alone out of bed.
Chase stammered. “Yeah, a steak dinner sounds good. You okay to cook.” He forced a smile at Sam, holding up a finger to ask him to wait a minute. “Should be home around six barring emergencies but I’ll let you know if I’m going to be later. That okay? Talk to you later honey.”
Chase hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Chase said, looking at Dean. “You lost a lot of fluid and…”
“How did you know our names?” Dean asked, his mouth set in that distinctive straight line.
Chase could have kicked himself. Why the hell did he have to say anything? He could have kept quiet. Could have said nothing. He needed an excuse and fast.
“The paramedics charts.” Chase forced the lie. “You must have told them?”
Sam pulled the chart from behind his back. “Guess again!”
Chase took the form and looked at the name. Gregory Philips. Shit!
“I want the truth!” Sam spoke softly, eyes darting around.
Chase sighed and taking Sam by the arm escorted him back to bed. There was no way he could explain this without telling them the truth - or at least an edited version of the truth.
“Three months ago, I was assigned a case, an unknown infection. Sulphur in the bloodstream. All manner of unexplained symptoms…” Chase began, spinning out the tale but leaving out everything but the medical side of it.
Some secrets didn’t need to be shared. At least, not here and not now. Maybe in the future though…? Only time would tell.
Fandom: Supernatural / House Crossover
Author: Bon
Rating: 18
Part: 7
Words: 838
Summary: Part of the seven ficlets in seven days challenge. Doctor Chase is now out on his own in Houston General after his internship with House. A patient presents with a rather unusual set of symptoms and it’s up to Chase to make the diagnosis.
~#~#~
Chase was on cloud nine when he walked into the hospital. Details of the previous night’s call still buzzed around his head. Who knew that his sexy southern accent would sound even better through a phone line? And who would have thought that he’d end up screaming down the phone as John described exactly what they would have been doing if he had been there? But instead he was on the other side of the country, tracking down the demon who had taken over his body and almost killed him. The man was persistent, Chase had to give him that, and sexy as hell.
Chase signed the register as he clocked in for the afternoon shift in the emergency room. A Monday afternoon, this would be kids soccer game injuries or road traffic accidents, nothing strenuous. Or at least that’s what he thought until the doors slammed open and the ambulance team rolled in Chase’s worst nightmare.
Deep lacerations. Massive blood loss. Stats in the toilet. Multiple broken bones. Unconscious, mercifully so. It wasn’t until he got to the face that his own heart nearly stopped. It was a face he’d seen a hundred times. Short blond hair, cropped into something that was reminiscent of a military style. The face of an angel with the pout of a demon.
Chase looked around, registering what the paramedics were saying on what must have been a subconscious level. Where was the other piece of the puzzle? Dean Winchester never came on his own. So where the hell was Sam?
Another trolley slammed through the doors. Chase moved to the second trolley, fearing that his question was about to be answered. Dark brown eyes looked around wildly, searching for something. Chase could guess what it was.
“Sam? Sam? Can you hear me?” Chase tried to get the boy’s attention.
The dark eyes locked on his for a moment.
“Sam? Dean is here. We’re working on him now. Don’t worry. He’s in good hands.” Chase reassured him. “I’ll keep you informed.”
Chase watched as the brothers were rolled into adjoining trauma rooms, teams already working frantically. Chase bounced between the cubicles, helping, directing.
After what seemed like hours, the boys were shipped out to their own rooms, stable.
Chase breathed a sigh of relief. Digging his phone out from his pocket, he dialled the by now familiar number.
“John? You sitting?” Chase asked. “Well, I think you better. The boys just got brought in. I dunno what they were fighting but it’s serious. We got them stabilised. Everything looks good. Most of the problem was blood loss and shock.”
Chase paused, listening to the man on the other end of the phone. He could almost see John gathering up his things, shoving them in pockets and bags as he asked the necessary questions. He finally had the man calmed down, promising to call him every twelve hours with an update. But he couldn’t blame him. These were his boys and even though he hadn’t physically seen them in the guts of a year, he still cared. He was doing this for them.
“Love you too, John. Talk to you later.”
Chase turned around, wanting to take one more look at the boys before hanging up, only to find himself looking into Sam’s brown eyes. The boy was barely standing, leaning heavily on his IV stand. The boy shouldn’t be standing, let alone out of bed.
Chase stammered. “Yeah, a steak dinner sounds good. You okay to cook.” He forced a smile at Sam, holding up a finger to ask him to wait a minute. “Should be home around six barring emergencies but I’ll let you know if I’m going to be later. That okay? Talk to you later honey.”
Chase hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Chase said, looking at Dean. “You lost a lot of fluid and…”
“How did you know our names?” Dean asked, his mouth set in that distinctive straight line.
Chase could have kicked himself. Why the hell did he have to say anything? He could have kept quiet. Could have said nothing. He needed an excuse and fast.
“The paramedics charts.” Chase forced the lie. “You must have told them?”
Sam pulled the chart from behind his back. “Guess again!”
Chase took the form and looked at the name. Gregory Philips. Shit!
“I want the truth!” Sam spoke softly, eyes darting around.
Chase sighed and taking Sam by the arm escorted him back to bed. There was no way he could explain this without telling them the truth - or at least an edited version of the truth.
“Three months ago, I was assigned a case, an unknown infection. Sulphur in the bloodstream. All manner of unexplained symptoms…” Chase began, spinning out the tale but leaving out everything but the medical side of it.
Some secrets didn’t need to be shared. At least, not here and not now. Maybe in the future though…? Only time would tell.