Illmerica, House, Z!Chase/House, Pre-slash, PG
Title: Illmerica
Author: raindropfloss
Fandom: House
Pairing: Chase/House Characters: Chase, Foreman, House, Taub, Thirteen
Prompt: House, MD, House/Chase, House does not believe in zombies, Chase has another point of view. Points if Chase is a zombie (a good one or a bad one) but I'll be glad even if he isn't.
Rating: PG
There has been something of an outbreak... Thirteen looks as if she's about to pass out from exhaustion, eyes mostly closed, and the only time she looks up is when she hears the clamorous falls of patients down the hall. Her eyes widen, then, and then she glances at Foreman who's frowning with his fingers dancing across his lower lip. Chase simply shakes his head when he hears them. Idiots, he thinks. Taub pulled his chair into the farthest corner of the room, and he's bent over so that his elbows are at his knees as he rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms.
House is a mixture of confusion and amusement where he sits, leaning back in his desk chair, rubbing at his chin every few minutes, eyebrows drawn, and then suddenly shaking his head as he lets out a soft chuckle everyone chooses to ignore. Chooses, or maybe they don't hear him. But Chase does, and it makes him want to roll his eyes. That, or laugh along with House.
For an hour or so, Cuddy had been calling steadily from her locked up office, but of course she finally tired of House hanging up on her. None of them are entirely sure what's happened to Wilson because when Foreman suggested they try to get a hold of him, House sat for a silent moment, and then stood to look out the window. "No," he'd said lightly, "He's probably doing what God put him on this earth to do. 'Taking care' of his patients. He's so noble. No woman left behind..."
As unfortunately true as that may be, care of any kind may have turned deadly for Doctor Wilson, but Chase is going to let House dwell in his delusions for as long as possible. So is everyone else, he thinks. There isn't one person in the room who'd want to see House try to exist without his better half, and that, for as long as they have or ever will know him, has been Wilson.
"Well..." House says, "Can any of you charismatic people spare a moment? Are there any ideas to be shared, or should I order some Chinese? If they'll deliver to a hospital full of deranged patients, that is. I can see..." He picked up the phone and began to lift it to his ear.
"What if, what if one of us went out and tried to run some tests?"
House punched in a couple of numbers before holding his finger up. "Just a moment, Thirteen, I'm - Oh yes, Ling? I..." House trailed off when he met Thirteen and Foreman's glares. "Never mind, I guess they don't want the spring rolls." After hanging up, he asks, "Are you volunteering?"
Foreman and Thirteen exchange a look, and then she looks up to House, "Not this time..."
"Well it was your idea," House says, raising his eyebrows.
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute," Chase says, stopping what's going to be a fight he's already heard a million times before. "I have an idea. Now, you're not going to like it, but hear me out." Chase puts his hands in his pockets and turns around to face House, pinning him with his eyes. "Zombies," he says with a shrug.
"Mhm..." House tilts his head to the side. "Well! Obviously this is an airborne virus and Chase is sick, everyone stop breathing!"
Sighing, Chase flips his hair back. "Look, they have all of the symptoms," he says, gesturing out to the halls. A patient is pulling himself across the tile, eyes half open, grunting. "Sores on their skin." Blood everywhere, it's disgusting, frankly, and one of the first symptoms that showed up hospital-wide. "The need to be moving even when they have little mobility. Obviously..." he says, looking at the man outside who is now looking into the office room.
Thirteen gasps when a hand stretches up toward them, and the patient, its gown falling unpleasantly open at his back, begins it's slow turn toward them. "House? Should we - move the table? Honestly, I'm not the only one feeling like there's more danger here than just contracting a virus, am I?"
"You're fine," Chase says, pointed and throwing a stony glance at her. House shrugs when she gives him an offended look. So, Chase continues. "None of them are speaking a word, they've lost their motor skills, for the most part," he regretfully adds. "And - well, they look half-dead, moving on into dead-for-weeks." Silence. "Don't they?"
Rolling his head back and forth, stretching his neck, House appears to take a moment to think. He then stands, swings his cane out in front of him, and says, "Let me say this clearly, so that all of you can understand the first time around. Zombies. Don't. Exist."
Huffing, Chase mumbles, "That's what you think."
"No. That's what I know." He sounds frustrated, and a small smile quirks on Chase's lips. "Any other bright, less-imaginative ideas?" Now refusing to look at Chase, House is giving all the others a look that says he's not expecting much, but he's expecting something. They're all... mostly staring at Chase with confused looks on their faces.
"Um..." Thirteen says, uncharacteristically in-eloquent. She swivels her head to look at House, finally, and then purses her lips. "Wait," she says, suddenly turning back to Chase, "Zombies?" Her disbelieving tone is not comforting, but it is to be expected.
Chase, again, lifts his hand to point at the man who has slowly made his way up to the window and is about two seconds away from pounding an ashy fist against the window. "Is it not obvious?" he asks after everyone has managed to glance (House somewhat more subtly than the others) over at the patient.
Clearing his throat, everyone's slightly surprised to hear Taub speak up. They'd all thought he'd gone permanently speechless due to the odd circumstances the hospital had put them in. "Now I... I've watched a lot of movies - not that one should base their diagnoses off of movies but... - Anyway, Chase. He may have a point. I mean, look at him." Chase nods. Yes. The man outside is obviously a zombie.
"You're right," House says, "You should never base your diagnoses off of movies. Can we move on now?"
With another exasperated sigh, Chase throws his head back and groans, "Fine! I didn't want to have to do this, but you're all freaking out for no reason, and I honestly... If this gets out, I swear... We can't tell anybody about what's happened here, so I'll prove it." The quizzical looks he's receiving makes it even more difficult to do what he's about to, but Chase knows that for the safety of everyone, they need to know. "I know zombies exist because I am one." He takes the sleeve of his coat and begins to rub furiously at his cheek until there's color staining the white cloth, and he shows them.
"This is what dead skin looks like, are we all understanding this?" They're dumb-founded, except for House, who is just slightly on the surprised side of things. "I am dead. But... also not. And apparently the same virus I had has now spread into this hospital, and here we all are. So if you want to remain uninfected, I suggest you not touch any of the food or water for the next twenty-four hours or so. And you definitely do not want to go outside of this room. They will bite you, and you will get it."
"But. If you're a zombie than why aren't you bumbling around like all of them?" Taub shouts, incredulous, yet afraid.
"Because after the virus settles in, everyone returns to their normal state of intelligence. It takes a day or so for the delirium and hunger to leave the body, but then we're free to live as, well, the living, if we so choose."
"Huh." House says. "Can I...?" he asks, walking closer before he touches the cold skin of Chase's cheek. "A zombie." He's not entirely convinced, but from that moment on, he's hardly able to move his eyes from Chase, and when the virus is at the end of its fever-high, and Chase's words are proven, House finds it necessary to run several tests on chase, both medical and non-medical.
Author: raindropfloss
Fandom: House
Pairing: Chase/House Characters: Chase, Foreman, House, Taub, Thirteen
Prompt: House, MD, House/Chase, House does not believe in zombies, Chase has another point of view. Points if Chase is a zombie (a good one or a bad one) but I'll be glad even if he isn't.
Rating: PG
There has been something of an outbreak... Thirteen looks as if she's about to pass out from exhaustion, eyes mostly closed, and the only time she looks up is when she hears the clamorous falls of patients down the hall. Her eyes widen, then, and then she glances at Foreman who's frowning with his fingers dancing across his lower lip. Chase simply shakes his head when he hears them. Idiots, he thinks. Taub pulled his chair into the farthest corner of the room, and he's bent over so that his elbows are at his knees as he rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms.
House is a mixture of confusion and amusement where he sits, leaning back in his desk chair, rubbing at his chin every few minutes, eyebrows drawn, and then suddenly shaking his head as he lets out a soft chuckle everyone chooses to ignore. Chooses, or maybe they don't hear him. But Chase does, and it makes him want to roll his eyes. That, or laugh along with House.
For an hour or so, Cuddy had been calling steadily from her locked up office, but of course she finally tired of House hanging up on her. None of them are entirely sure what's happened to Wilson because when Foreman suggested they try to get a hold of him, House sat for a silent moment, and then stood to look out the window. "No," he'd said lightly, "He's probably doing what God put him on this earth to do. 'Taking care' of his patients. He's so noble. No woman left behind..."
As unfortunately true as that may be, care of any kind may have turned deadly for Doctor Wilson, but Chase is going to let House dwell in his delusions for as long as possible. So is everyone else, he thinks. There isn't one person in the room who'd want to see House try to exist without his better half, and that, for as long as they have or ever will know him, has been Wilson.
"Well..." House says, "Can any of you charismatic people spare a moment? Are there any ideas to be shared, or should I order some Chinese? If they'll deliver to a hospital full of deranged patients, that is. I can see..." He picked up the phone and began to lift it to his ear.
"What if, what if one of us went out and tried to run some tests?"
House punched in a couple of numbers before holding his finger up. "Just a moment, Thirteen, I'm - Oh yes, Ling? I..." House trailed off when he met Thirteen and Foreman's glares. "Never mind, I guess they don't want the spring rolls." After hanging up, he asks, "Are you volunteering?"
Foreman and Thirteen exchange a look, and then she looks up to House, "Not this time..."
"Well it was your idea," House says, raising his eyebrows.
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute," Chase says, stopping what's going to be a fight he's already heard a million times before. "I have an idea. Now, you're not going to like it, but hear me out." Chase puts his hands in his pockets and turns around to face House, pinning him with his eyes. "Zombies," he says with a shrug.
"Mhm..." House tilts his head to the side. "Well! Obviously this is an airborne virus and Chase is sick, everyone stop breathing!"
Sighing, Chase flips his hair back. "Look, they have all of the symptoms," he says, gesturing out to the halls. A patient is pulling himself across the tile, eyes half open, grunting. "Sores on their skin." Blood everywhere, it's disgusting, frankly, and one of the first symptoms that showed up hospital-wide. "The need to be moving even when they have little mobility. Obviously..." he says, looking at the man outside who is now looking into the office room.
Thirteen gasps when a hand stretches up toward them, and the patient, its gown falling unpleasantly open at his back, begins it's slow turn toward them. "House? Should we - move the table? Honestly, I'm not the only one feeling like there's more danger here than just contracting a virus, am I?"
"You're fine," Chase says, pointed and throwing a stony glance at her. House shrugs when she gives him an offended look. So, Chase continues. "None of them are speaking a word, they've lost their motor skills, for the most part," he regretfully adds. "And - well, they look half-dead, moving on into dead-for-weeks." Silence. "Don't they?"
Rolling his head back and forth, stretching his neck, House appears to take a moment to think. He then stands, swings his cane out in front of him, and says, "Let me say this clearly, so that all of you can understand the first time around. Zombies. Don't. Exist."
Huffing, Chase mumbles, "That's what you think."
"No. That's what I know." He sounds frustrated, and a small smile quirks on Chase's lips. "Any other bright, less-imaginative ideas?" Now refusing to look at Chase, House is giving all the others a look that says he's not expecting much, but he's expecting something. They're all... mostly staring at Chase with confused looks on their faces.
"Um..." Thirteen says, uncharacteristically in-eloquent. She swivels her head to look at House, finally, and then purses her lips. "Wait," she says, suddenly turning back to Chase, "Zombies?" Her disbelieving tone is not comforting, but it is to be expected.
Chase, again, lifts his hand to point at the man who has slowly made his way up to the window and is about two seconds away from pounding an ashy fist against the window. "Is it not obvious?" he asks after everyone has managed to glance (House somewhat more subtly than the others) over at the patient.
Clearing his throat, everyone's slightly surprised to hear Taub speak up. They'd all thought he'd gone permanently speechless due to the odd circumstances the hospital had put them in. "Now I... I've watched a lot of movies - not that one should base their diagnoses off of movies but... - Anyway, Chase. He may have a point. I mean, look at him." Chase nods. Yes. The man outside is obviously a zombie.
"You're right," House says, "You should never base your diagnoses off of movies. Can we move on now?"
With another exasperated sigh, Chase throws his head back and groans, "Fine! I didn't want to have to do this, but you're all freaking out for no reason, and I honestly... If this gets out, I swear... We can't tell anybody about what's happened here, so I'll prove it." The quizzical looks he's receiving makes it even more difficult to do what he's about to, but Chase knows that for the safety of everyone, they need to know. "I know zombies exist because I am one." He takes the sleeve of his coat and begins to rub furiously at his cheek until there's color staining the white cloth, and he shows them.
"This is what dead skin looks like, are we all understanding this?" They're dumb-founded, except for House, who is just slightly on the surprised side of things. "I am dead. But... also not. And apparently the same virus I had has now spread into this hospital, and here we all are. So if you want to remain uninfected, I suggest you not touch any of the food or water for the next twenty-four hours or so. And you definitely do not want to go outside of this room. They will bite you, and you will get it."
"But. If you're a zombie than why aren't you bumbling around like all of them?" Taub shouts, incredulous, yet afraid.
"Because after the virus settles in, everyone returns to their normal state of intelligence. It takes a day or so for the delirium and hunger to leave the body, but then we're free to live as, well, the living, if we so choose."
"Huh." House says. "Can I...?" he asks, walking closer before he touches the cold skin of Chase's cheek. "A zombie." He's not entirely convinced, but from that moment on, he's hardly able to move his eyes from Chase, and when the virus is at the end of its fever-high, and Chase's words are proven, House finds it necessary to run several tests on chase, both medical and non-medical.