SPN/House - Beginning at the End - PG
Title: Beginning at the End 2/7?
Fandom: Supernatural/House MD
Pairing: JW/RC
Summary: An interest in things that interest his least favouritest duckling? Never!
Word Count: 938
Sam - Chase was nearly sure that was his name - was the model of a perfect patient as Chase sewed up his arm. The wounds looked fairly minor, easily cleaned and easily explained away as a minor accident. All in all a textbook case and he'd be back to playing
Chase looked up into dark, brooding eyes and resisted the urge to just walk away. He could see it now, echoes of John in the lanky young man before him. He didn't look too much like Dean, but Chase could see why their father had called them both 'too damn pretty'.
Chase looked at the set of Sam's jaw and carefully didn't sigh. The one thing he hadn't missed was the Winchester stubbornness and knowing his luck, Sam was more like his father than like Dean; he really, really didn't want to have to deal with a bull-headed idiot. Dean at least was easily distractable. Unfortunately, any hopes he'd had that this would work with John's youngest died as he met unfriendly eyes. He braced himself as the young man stared through his bangs at him.
"How do you know my father?"
Three years before
John Does were not, as a rule, sent to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. So when the young man arrived, House ordered Chase to track down his identity and the all-important medical history. He had almost nothing to go on; they suspected some form of animal attack and the patient had been found by the local PD on the side of the road. He was in critical condition, had no insurance and was teetering on the brink.
Chase checked the list of clues he had to start with; patient's clothing - ripped jeans and a Metallica T-shirt, one empty wallet - found beside him and a set of car-keys that Foreman thought belonged to a classic car. Or so he said but Chase was still the black sheep of the Diagnostic flock. House had probably put him up to it.
Still, any ford in a storm and all that.
So, Robert Chase MD, found himself wandering the inner city streets, looking for a car that fitted the keys in his hand. He picked up a police officer for a bit but showing his credentials and getting the officer to call Cuddy instead of House got him a cup of coffee, a sugary donut and a mutual bitching session about their respective bosses.
It also meant that when the officer - Henderson - spotted the Impala parked outside an abandoned hospital, he called Chase and helped him figure out how to start it. The radio came on first, blaringly loud and- was that Black Sabbath? Chase spent the first ten minutes trying to hear himself think and the next ten trying to find another radio station.
Still, John Doe's questionable taste in music aside, the car seemed in good condition. The engine was a little loud for his taste and it was a barge to steer. He starts the drive thinking "Why the hell would anyone DRIVE this?" which had become "I wonder if Richard Hart still sells classics?" between the freeway and the hospital parking lot.
"The wallet found with the patient was a red herring, there was another stuffed into the glove compartment." Chase said, dropping the file and wallet on House's desk. "His name is Daniel Samuel, age 24. Medical history is incomplete and there's what appears to be a DNR on file."
"Appears?" House tossed the ratty red and grey ball into the air. "In what light does this mysterious form appear?"
"There...may be some irregularities with the paperwork." Chase admitted.
"So what we have is not in fact a Do Not Resuscitate but a "I will sue your sorry asses if you resuscitate or my family will if you don't" form." House caught the ball and stared at him. "So, in the interests of keeping everything above-board and the legal department happy, I suggest you see about finding his next of kin and getting their okay on us not bringing their bouncy baby boy back?"
"Alright!" Chase snatched the file off the table and headed out before House could sharpen his claws on him more. "I'll ring the..." he flipped through the file. "..dad."
"What sort of family only has a cell-phone listed?" Cameron asked, flicking through the file.
"The sorta family that doesn't keep in touch too often?" Foreman suggested, sipping his coffee.
Chase pretended they weren't there; something he was getting rather good at it. The phone buzzed relentless in his ear. Two more tries and he could-"Who is this?"
The voice made his back snap ramrod straight as some sort of ingrained reflex. "Uh...Mr Samuel?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I'm Doctor Robert Chase at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey and I'm calling about your son - Daniel? He's been in an accident and well, there seems to be a problem with some of his paperwork, specifically with his Do Not Resuscitate order. We're wondering about-"
"His what?!"
"His DNR, I don't know if-"
"I know what a DNR is." The words were clipped and precise. There was a pause then, "This hospital of yours? New Jersey, yes?"
"Uh...yessir?"
"I'll be there in six hours. Don't you let my boy die."
"We won't..?" Chase said stupidly, to the dial tone. He looked up at the other ducklings and half-shrugged helplessly. This was probably not going to be an easy case but Daniel Samuel was going to be alive tonight; if only because Chase really didn't want to find out what his father would do if he wasn't.
Fandom: Supernatural/House MD
Pairing: JW/RC
Summary: An interest in things that interest his least favouritest duckling? Never!
Word Count: 938
Sam - Chase was nearly sure that was his name - was the model of a perfect patient as Chase sewed up his arm. The wounds looked fairly minor, easily cleaned and easily explained away as a minor accident. All in all a textbook case and he'd be back to playing
Chase looked up into dark, brooding eyes and resisted the urge to just walk away. He could see it now, echoes of John in the lanky young man before him. He didn't look too much like Dean, but Chase could see why their father had called them both 'too damn pretty'.
Chase looked at the set of Sam's jaw and carefully didn't sigh. The one thing he hadn't missed was the Winchester stubbornness and knowing his luck, Sam was more like his father than like Dean; he really, really didn't want to have to deal with a bull-headed idiot. Dean at least was easily distractable. Unfortunately, any hopes he'd had that this would work with John's youngest died as he met unfriendly eyes. He braced himself as the young man stared through his bangs at him.
"How do you know my father?"
Three years before
John Does were not, as a rule, sent to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. So when the young man arrived, House ordered Chase to track down his identity and the all-important medical history. He had almost nothing to go on; they suspected some form of animal attack and the patient had been found by the local PD on the side of the road. He was in critical condition, had no insurance and was teetering on the brink.
Chase checked the list of clues he had to start with; patient's clothing - ripped jeans and a Metallica T-shirt, one empty wallet - found beside him and a set of car-keys that Foreman thought belonged to a classic car. Or so he said but Chase was still the black sheep of the Diagnostic flock. House had probably put him up to it.
Still, any ford in a storm and all that.
So, Robert Chase MD, found himself wandering the inner city streets, looking for a car that fitted the keys in his hand. He picked up a police officer for a bit but showing his credentials and getting the officer to call Cuddy instead of House got him a cup of coffee, a sugary donut and a mutual bitching session about their respective bosses.
It also meant that when the officer - Henderson - spotted the Impala parked outside an abandoned hospital, he called Chase and helped him figure out how to start it. The radio came on first, blaringly loud and- was that Black Sabbath? Chase spent the first ten minutes trying to hear himself think and the next ten trying to find another radio station.
Still, John Doe's questionable taste in music aside, the car seemed in good condition. The engine was a little loud for his taste and it was a barge to steer. He starts the drive thinking "Why the hell would anyone DRIVE this?" which had become "I wonder if Richard Hart still sells classics?" between the freeway and the hospital parking lot.
"The wallet found with the patient was a red herring, there was another stuffed into the glove compartment." Chase said, dropping the file and wallet on House's desk. "His name is Daniel Samuel, age 24. Medical history is incomplete and there's what appears to be a DNR on file."
"Appears?" House tossed the ratty red and grey ball into the air. "In what light does this mysterious form appear?"
"There...may be some irregularities with the paperwork." Chase admitted.
"So what we have is not in fact a Do Not Resuscitate but a "I will sue your sorry asses if you resuscitate or my family will if you don't" form." House caught the ball and stared at him. "So, in the interests of keeping everything above-board and the legal department happy, I suggest you see about finding his next of kin and getting their okay on us not bringing their bouncy baby boy back?"
"Alright!" Chase snatched the file off the table and headed out before House could sharpen his claws on him more. "I'll ring the..." he flipped through the file. "..dad."
"What sort of family only has a cell-phone listed?" Cameron asked, flicking through the file.
"The sorta family that doesn't keep in touch too often?" Foreman suggested, sipping his coffee.
Chase pretended they weren't there; something he was getting rather good at it. The phone buzzed relentless in his ear. Two more tries and he could-"Who is this?"
The voice made his back snap ramrod straight as some sort of ingrained reflex. "Uh...Mr Samuel?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I'm Doctor Robert Chase at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey and I'm calling about your son - Daniel? He's been in an accident and well, there seems to be a problem with some of his paperwork, specifically with his Do Not Resuscitate order. We're wondering about-"
"His what?!"
"His DNR, I don't know if-"
"I know what a DNR is." The words were clipped and precise. There was a pause then, "This hospital of yours? New Jersey, yes?"
"Uh...yessir?"
"I'll be there in six hours. Don't you let my boy die."
"We won't..?" Chase said stupidly, to the dial tone. He looked up at the other ducklings and half-shrugged helplessly. This was probably not going to be an easy case but Daniel Samuel was going to be alive tonight; if only because Chase really didn't want to find out what his father would do if he wasn't.