Breaking the Silence
Title: Breaking the Silence
Author: bluegemeyes
Characters/Pairing: House/Chase
Prompt: 006. Patient (for housefic50)
Word Count: 1,698
Rating: PG for some swearing
Spoilers: None
Beta: The splendiferous calistal!
Author's Notes : AU. Chase isn’t a doctor, but the same events have happened to him, namely deaths. He won’t speak, and no one can figure out why. Just my interpretation of what multiple deaths can do to a person…I’m a Psych major, that’s why. ;-) House is pretty OOC towards the end. I own Dr. Nguyen and Sea Breezes, nothing else.
”If there is a way into madness, logic says there is a way out. Logic says.” ~”Madman”, Tracy Groot
In New Jersey, there is a city called Plainsboro. A nice little town, if you like Jersey suburbs.
About 7 miles outside Plainsboro, in the closest thing Jersey has to countryside, there is a quiet little white building with a sign out front; it reads “Sea Breezes Psychiatric Treatment Facility”.
There are no sea breezes for 50 miles.
Patient #65274 is named Robert Chase. He has been at Sea Breezes for the past 3 years, and has not spoken for 2½ of them. No could figure out why, and so he was labeled a medical mystery.
One man prided himself on being able to solve any medical mystery. Dr. Greg House.
Dr. Tina Nguyen, director of Sea Breezes, was waiting at the door when House pulled up on his motorcycle. She wondered briefly why a man with a cane would ride a motorcycle, but dismissed it quickly as one of his “quirks”.
She approached him as he limped toward the front steps, holding out her hand. “Dr. House! I’m Dr. Nguyen. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”
He grunted in response, shaking her hand briefly. “It got me out of Clinic duty. I figured hey, why the hell not?”
She looked confused for a moment, but decided not to press the issue. “We called you in because we can’t figure out why one of our patients won’t speak. There’s nothing physically wrong with him, he just...won’t speak. Your reputation for cracking tough cases is quite prominent, so we called you. We know you‘re not a psychiatrist, but, well…” She shrugged. “We were desperate.”
House had remained silent throughout her synopsis, which lasted until they reached Chase’s room.
“Dr. House, state law says I need to accompany you. I hope that won’t distract you” Dr. Nguyen said timidly. Normally she would have asserted herself with no problems, but there was something about Dr. House that scared her a little bit.
“As long as you don’t mind unorthodox treatment methods, and you don’t get in my way” House replied, opening the door and limping inside.
At first glance, it didn’t look like Chase was alive. But if you looked for it, you could see the slight rise and fall of his chest as he slept. House reached over and shook him awake.
“Wake up!” he barked, limping over to the table that had been set up for his visit. He reached for the file on the table and flipped it open. “Robert Chase. 26 years old, says here you’re from Melbourne, Australia. Cool.” House looked up to gauge his reaction, but Chase’s face remained as blank as ever.
“Father left when you were 15, mother died at 18, father died 2½ years ago. This, apparently, is when your voice box took a vacation.”
Still no reaction.
“Chase, I’m gonna call you Chase, you don’t look like a ‘Robert’ to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk. So…why don’t you talk?”
Chase shrugged.
“I have pictures of your neck from MRI’s and CT scans that you’ve had. There’s nothing wrong with your throat, no cancer, no infection, no growths, nothing!” He slammed the folder down. “You can talk, so why don’t you?!”
Chase just stared down at the floor.
House leaned in, lowering his voice. “Hey, between you and me, I wouldn’t talk if I didn’t have to, either. Too many idiots in the world. But you are physically able to talk, and no one understands why you won’t.”
House stopped, noticing that tears had started falling from Chase’s eyes. House sighed and leaned back, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He hated when people cried.
“OK, I get it. You’re sad because your parents died. But since nothing seems to get through to you, maybe a rather trite-sounding quote will.”
Chase looked at him, managing to convey a challenge even through his tears.
“’Not being able to speak, is not the same as having nothing to say’” House said, never looking away from Chase’s challenge-filled eyes. Chase’s face softened a little.
“So maybe you have nothing to say. Maybe you’re afraid that if you open your mouth, you’ll never stop talking or screaming or babbling. Maybe you’re afraid of crying even more.” Chase was looking down at the floor by House‘s feet, but his bottom lip looked like it was starting to quiver again.
“Dr. Nguyen” House said quietly.
“Yes? Is there something you need?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.
“Could you step outside for about 5 minutes? Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, get a drink, stretch your legs, whatever. I think he might be more comfortable if you weren’t in the room.”
“Dr. House, state law says-” she began, but stopped when House pressed a $20 bill into her hand.
“I promise not assault him-no matter how great his hair is” House said, cracking a half-smile. He raised one eyebrow, trying to look innocent, but fell miserably short.
Dr. Nguyen looked like she was having a mental battle. Then her face calmed, she stuck the bill in her pocket, and said “What the hell. Take 10 minutes, if you want. I really need a smoke.”
House nodded, shook her hand again, and then sat looking at Chase as she let herself out. As he listened to her footsteps fading away down the hall, he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and legs, yawning widely all the while. Once he’d settled back down, he tilted his head and went back to gazing intently at Chase.
“OK. She’s gone. If you want to say something, I won’t tell. Or…here.” He pulled out a notebook and pen. “You could write it down.”
Chase’s eyes darted back and forth between House and the notebook. He looked a little like a caged animal, but House could sense they were close to a breakthrough. His hand hovered near the pen for several moments, then picked it up. His fingers curled around it awkwardly, like they hadn’t written anything for several years, which they probably hadn’t.
House allowed himself a tiny smile, but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet. The odds that Chase would open up to him, when they’d only met 30 minutes before, were pretty slim. But he still had to try.
Chase, meanwhile, was still holding the pen over the notebook, but he hadn’t made a move to write anything yet. House continued gazing at him intently, waiting patiently. After all, he had nothing but time.
Chase looked up at House, as if silently seeking permission. House nodded once, and Chase touched pen to paper.
Thanks for getting rid of her.
House broke into a broad grin. It wasn’t speech, but it was better than no communication. He got out a pen of his own.
You’re welcome. I know I’m skipping the fluffy introductions, but, why won’t you talk?
Chase gave a tiny smile. You don’t waste any time, do you?
I try not to. But believe it or not…I do want to help.
I heard you were a bastard. Why would you want to help me?
House let out a short bark of laughter. Because it got me out of Clinic duty. Because you have great hair. Because… House stopped, trying to think of better reasons. Because I would bet my cane and my pills you’re really smart. Talking would probably be a big step toward getting you out of here.
Do you realize how trite that sounds?
I’m doing my best. I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m a diagnostician. But we still have doctor-patient privilege. Please. I promise I won’t tell her, if you want to open up. Why won’t you talk?
Chase sighed, the first sound House had heard him make all day. Like you said before…I had nothing to say to Dr. Nguyen. It didn’t seem like she even cared, or if she did, it was only because I was her pet project. Chase sighed again, raking his fingers through his hair. I don’t talk because I have nothing to say to people who think I have a problem. I’m sure they mean well. But they shouldn’t try to fix me, especially when I’m not broken!
My mum was an alcoholic, my dad was pretty much a bastard…I came here to try to make a new life. Six months later, I hit bottom, and tried to rob a 7-11. They arrested me, stuck me in here 3 years ago. I quit talking after 6 months because, well, mainly because I didn’t trust any of the doctors. And I felt I’d told them everything they wanted to know!
Don’t shout! Damn it, that sounded stupid. What I meant was, I get it. I understand why you quit talking. And I’m not going to force you. But if you ever do want to talk, see if you can get transferred to Princeton-Plainsboro. Or I could put in a word for you with Dr. Nguyen.
I would like to get out of here. Would you really do that? I mean, you don’t even know me.
You have great hair. Plus, this isn’t exactly the place I’d want to stay if I was in your position
All right. Thank you. I really appreciate it.
You’re welcome
House stopped, listening intently. “Shit!” he swore under his breath. He plucked the pen from Chase’s fingers, and he’d put everything away by the time Dr. Nguyen appeared at the door.
“Well! I feel much better!” she exclaimed. “Dr. House, how much longer do you think you’ll be?”
“Actually…I’m done!” he said, matching her tone with false cheeriness. He pulled himself up, winked at Chase, and then limped out with Dr. Nguyen close behind.
“That’s it? You’re done?!” she asked in disbelief.
“If he won’t talk, I can’t help him” House replied.
“But…if he doesn’t talk, then he’ll never get better!”
“Some people never do. But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we go to your office? There’s something I want to ask you. About Chase…”
As the two doctors walked away from Chase’s room, Chase sat on his bed, staring at the door. “Thank you” he said aloud. Even though his voice was hoarse, they were the first words he’d spoken all year. And even though no one could hear him, he’d felt the best he’d ever felt in three years.
His silence was finally broken.
-fin-
Author: bluegemeyes
Characters/Pairing: House/Chase
Prompt: 006. Patient (for housefic50)
Word Count: 1,698
Rating: PG for some swearing
Spoilers: None
Beta: The splendiferous calistal!
Author's Notes : AU. Chase isn’t a doctor, but the same events have happened to him, namely deaths. He won’t speak, and no one can figure out why. Just my interpretation of what multiple deaths can do to a person…I’m a Psych major, that’s why. ;-) House is pretty OOC towards the end. I own Dr. Nguyen and Sea Breezes, nothing else.
”If there is a way into madness, logic says there is a way out. Logic says.” ~”Madman”, Tracy Groot
In New Jersey, there is a city called Plainsboro. A nice little town, if you like Jersey suburbs.
About 7 miles outside Plainsboro, in the closest thing Jersey has to countryside, there is a quiet little white building with a sign out front; it reads “Sea Breezes Psychiatric Treatment Facility”.
There are no sea breezes for 50 miles.
Patient #65274 is named Robert Chase. He has been at Sea Breezes for the past 3 years, and has not spoken for 2½ of them. No could figure out why, and so he was labeled a medical mystery.
One man prided himself on being able to solve any medical mystery. Dr. Greg House.
Dr. Tina Nguyen, director of Sea Breezes, was waiting at the door when House pulled up on his motorcycle. She wondered briefly why a man with a cane would ride a motorcycle, but dismissed it quickly as one of his “quirks”.
She approached him as he limped toward the front steps, holding out her hand. “Dr. House! I’m Dr. Nguyen. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”
He grunted in response, shaking her hand briefly. “It got me out of Clinic duty. I figured hey, why the hell not?”
She looked confused for a moment, but decided not to press the issue. “We called you in because we can’t figure out why one of our patients won’t speak. There’s nothing physically wrong with him, he just...won’t speak. Your reputation for cracking tough cases is quite prominent, so we called you. We know you‘re not a psychiatrist, but, well…” She shrugged. “We were desperate.”
House had remained silent throughout her synopsis, which lasted until they reached Chase’s room.
“Dr. House, state law says I need to accompany you. I hope that won’t distract you” Dr. Nguyen said timidly. Normally she would have asserted herself with no problems, but there was something about Dr. House that scared her a little bit.
“As long as you don’t mind unorthodox treatment methods, and you don’t get in my way” House replied, opening the door and limping inside.
At first glance, it didn’t look like Chase was alive. But if you looked for it, you could see the slight rise and fall of his chest as he slept. House reached over and shook him awake.
“Wake up!” he barked, limping over to the table that had been set up for his visit. He reached for the file on the table and flipped it open. “Robert Chase. 26 years old, says here you’re from Melbourne, Australia. Cool.” House looked up to gauge his reaction, but Chase’s face remained as blank as ever.
“Father left when you were 15, mother died at 18, father died 2½ years ago. This, apparently, is when your voice box took a vacation.”
Still no reaction.
“Chase, I’m gonna call you Chase, you don’t look like a ‘Robert’ to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk. So…why don’t you talk?”
Chase shrugged.
“I have pictures of your neck from MRI’s and CT scans that you’ve had. There’s nothing wrong with your throat, no cancer, no infection, no growths, nothing!” He slammed the folder down. “You can talk, so why don’t you?!”
Chase just stared down at the floor.
House leaned in, lowering his voice. “Hey, between you and me, I wouldn’t talk if I didn’t have to, either. Too many idiots in the world. But you are physically able to talk, and no one understands why you won’t.”
House stopped, noticing that tears had started falling from Chase’s eyes. House sighed and leaned back, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He hated when people cried.
“OK, I get it. You’re sad because your parents died. But since nothing seems to get through to you, maybe a rather trite-sounding quote will.”
Chase looked at him, managing to convey a challenge even through his tears.
“’Not being able to speak, is not the same as having nothing to say’” House said, never looking away from Chase’s challenge-filled eyes. Chase’s face softened a little.
“So maybe you have nothing to say. Maybe you’re afraid that if you open your mouth, you’ll never stop talking or screaming or babbling. Maybe you’re afraid of crying even more.” Chase was looking down at the floor by House‘s feet, but his bottom lip looked like it was starting to quiver again.
“Dr. Nguyen” House said quietly.
“Yes? Is there something you need?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.
“Could you step outside for about 5 minutes? Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, get a drink, stretch your legs, whatever. I think he might be more comfortable if you weren’t in the room.”
“Dr. House, state law says-” she began, but stopped when House pressed a $20 bill into her hand.
“I promise not assault him-no matter how great his hair is” House said, cracking a half-smile. He raised one eyebrow, trying to look innocent, but fell miserably short.
Dr. Nguyen looked like she was having a mental battle. Then her face calmed, she stuck the bill in her pocket, and said “What the hell. Take 10 minutes, if you want. I really need a smoke.”
House nodded, shook her hand again, and then sat looking at Chase as she let herself out. As he listened to her footsteps fading away down the hall, he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and legs, yawning widely all the while. Once he’d settled back down, he tilted his head and went back to gazing intently at Chase.
“OK. She’s gone. If you want to say something, I won’t tell. Or…here.” He pulled out a notebook and pen. “You could write it down.”
Chase’s eyes darted back and forth between House and the notebook. He looked a little like a caged animal, but House could sense they were close to a breakthrough. His hand hovered near the pen for several moments, then picked it up. His fingers curled around it awkwardly, like they hadn’t written anything for several years, which they probably hadn’t.
House allowed himself a tiny smile, but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet. The odds that Chase would open up to him, when they’d only met 30 minutes before, were pretty slim. But he still had to try.
Chase, meanwhile, was still holding the pen over the notebook, but he hadn’t made a move to write anything yet. House continued gazing at him intently, waiting patiently. After all, he had nothing but time.
Chase looked up at House, as if silently seeking permission. House nodded once, and Chase touched pen to paper.
Thanks for getting rid of her.
House broke into a broad grin. It wasn’t speech, but it was better than no communication. He got out a pen of his own.
You’re welcome. I know I’m skipping the fluffy introductions, but, why won’t you talk?
Chase gave a tiny smile. You don’t waste any time, do you?
I try not to. But believe it or not…I do want to help.
I heard you were a bastard. Why would you want to help me?
House let out a short bark of laughter. Because it got me out of Clinic duty. Because you have great hair. Because… House stopped, trying to think of better reasons. Because I would bet my cane and my pills you’re really smart. Talking would probably be a big step toward getting you out of here.
Do you realize how trite that sounds?
I’m doing my best. I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m a diagnostician. But we still have doctor-patient privilege. Please. I promise I won’t tell her, if you want to open up. Why won’t you talk?
Chase sighed, the first sound House had heard him make all day. Like you said before…I had nothing to say to Dr. Nguyen. It didn’t seem like she even cared, or if she did, it was only because I was her pet project. Chase sighed again, raking his fingers through his hair. I don’t talk because I have nothing to say to people who think I have a problem. I’m sure they mean well. But they shouldn’t try to fix me, especially when I’m not broken!
My mum was an alcoholic, my dad was pretty much a bastard…I came here to try to make a new life. Six months later, I hit bottom, and tried to rob a 7-11. They arrested me, stuck me in here 3 years ago. I quit talking after 6 months because, well, mainly because I didn’t trust any of the doctors. And I felt I’d told them everything they wanted to know!
Don’t shout! Damn it, that sounded stupid. What I meant was, I get it. I understand why you quit talking. And I’m not going to force you. But if you ever do want to talk, see if you can get transferred to Princeton-Plainsboro. Or I could put in a word for you with Dr. Nguyen.
I would like to get out of here. Would you really do that? I mean, you don’t even know me.
You have great hair. Plus, this isn’t exactly the place I’d want to stay if I was in your position
All right. Thank you. I really appreciate it.
You’re welcome
House stopped, listening intently. “Shit!” he swore under his breath. He plucked the pen from Chase’s fingers, and he’d put everything away by the time Dr. Nguyen appeared at the door.
“Well! I feel much better!” she exclaimed. “Dr. House, how much longer do you think you’ll be?”
“Actually…I’m done!” he said, matching her tone with false cheeriness. He pulled himself up, winked at Chase, and then limped out with Dr. Nguyen close behind.
“That’s it? You’re done?!” she asked in disbelief.
“If he won’t talk, I can’t help him” House replied.
“But…if he doesn’t talk, then he’ll never get better!”
“Some people never do. But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we go to your office? There’s something I want to ask you. About Chase…”
As the two doctors walked away from Chase’s room, Chase sat on his bed, staring at the door. “Thank you” he said aloud. Even though his voice was hoarse, they were the first words he’d spoken all year. And even though no one could hear him, he’d felt the best he’d ever felt in three years.
His silence was finally broken.
-fin-