Chapter Text
House was ready to leave Indiana and go back home. Unfortunately, Cuddy made him go to some stupid medicine conference in Indianapolis, which was way too far away. Cameron and Foreman tagged along with him to keep him company, as well as present about their respective fields outside of diagnostics.
Chase and Wilson had to stay for an extra few days, something about some documents and a patient, House didn’t pay attention.
So, naturally, he was bored. He drove most of the 11 hours until his leg gave out and Foreman drove the rest of the way. They made a few stops, mainly because they not only needed gas but they also needed food and to use the restroom. It took a lot longer than the supposed 11 hours.
Chase and Wilson were to travel the next day, over the night, and be there for the conference that morning for the panel that evening. It was a diagnostic panel, and while his fellows weren’t going to be up, House was. Wilson would also be on an oncology panel in the next few days, so they were staying for that before promptly leaving before House lost his mind.
The hotel was nice. House had one room to himself before Wilson came, and the ducklings were sharing a two bed room on the floor above. Basically, House was alone, and he couldn’t be happier.
Okay, well, that was a lie. He’d be happier if Wilson was there, but after spending nearly 15 hours with Foreman and Cameron, he needed some alone time. He was lucky Chase wasn’t in the car. He probably would’ve swerved off the road if he was. Good luck to Wilson.
In the morning, Foreman came to get him so they could sit in the first conference. He half debated skipping until Foreman came, so now he had to go.
“House, it won’t be that bad. Just sit and listen. Chase and Wilson will be here tomorrow,” Foreman sighed, handing a suit to House to change into.
House sighed, walking slowly with Cameron and Foreman to one of the conference rooms, grunting at anyone who chose to acknowledge him. Foreman and Cameron chose to speak on his behalf.
He looked at his watch. 24 hours until Wilson would be here. And Chase. But mainly Wilson. Wilson, his wonderful boyfriend - no, partner. Husband? His husband. Sure.
Wilson sighed as they were halfway into Pennsylvania. Having been on the road for roughly 5 hours, he was tired. Chase had offered to drive, but Wilson was sure he hadn’t renewed his license yet due to issues with his Visa, so they didn’t take the risk in case Chase started speeding.
Chase had been talking for the first two hours before he got bored and started listening to music, and about 20 minutes ago got bored of that and started reading. Wilson was pretty sure in a few minutes Chase would be right back to talking.
Wilson didn’t mind Chase, but they weren’t close. He could sort of see how Chase and House got along. Chase challenged House, yes, but they were similar in so many ways.
Chase sighed. “You and House are together, right?”
Wilson blinked, not expecting the question. “Uhh, yes. We are.”
Chase hums. “How’d you move in with him?”
“Uhh…” Wilson trailed off. “He just offered it to me.” He tried to think back on it. “I was in a rough spot with the hotel and he knew, so he just said ‘move in with me’. And I did. Took the couch for a few nights before he just pulled me to his bed, and it’s been that way since.”
Wilson had no clue why he was telling Chase all of this. Maybe it was because they still had several hours to go, and needed to stop for gas eventually, lengthening their time. They wouldn’t get in until about 9 in the morning, and he was tired of random radio music, so he just would suck it up and hope Chase doesn’t run around telling this information.
“I want Foreman to ask me to move in with him,” Chase declared. “I’m sick of my apartment and we’ve been dating for 4 months. I know I’m ready, but I don’t know if he is.”
“Why his apartment specifically?”
Chase bit his lip. “I… I didn’t renew my lease.”
Wilson almost hit the brakes right then. “What do you- you didn’t renew the lease?!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening.
“I didn’t want to!” Chase replied, closing his book. “I’ve spent most of my time at Foreman’s anyways, and I’ve slowly moved my stuff in. Everything else I can’t get in there I’ll either sell or place in storage. But Foreman hasn’t popped the question yet.”
“The moving in question?” Wilson asked to clarify.
Chase rolled his eyes. “Yes, Wilson.”
Wilson just huffed, focusing back on the road. “Just… talk to him. He may not know you’re ready, and you don’t just want to be sitting around. If he says no, I’m sure House won’t mind you staying with us for a bit.”
“House will mind.”
“I’ll force him to accept it. Don’t worry about him.” Wilson offered a smile.
Chase just shrugged. “We’ll see. I just don’t want Foreman to think it’s moving too fast.”
“Well, no matter what, just talk to him,” he offered like a hypocrite. Like he and House talked about anything.
Chase scoffed, picking up on it. “Yeah, yeah, like you and House talk.”
Wilson smiled. “He’s not the biggest fan of talking, you know.”
“Yep,” Chase replied, popping the ‘p’. “How much longer?”
“Probably 6 or 7 hours. Maybe 8 if we make frequent stops, which is likely.”
Chase groaned. “I can drive if I need to.”
“I’ll let you know.” To be very honest Wilson wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep. Both he and Chase decided to leave a bit later so they could nap, though Chase had opted to finish some paperwork for House instead.
Chase closed his eyes and sighed. “Do you think you and House will get married?”
“Probably not.”
“What makes you think so?”
Wilson sighed, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. “For one, I’ve been divorced three times, I don’t think I want to pay for another wedding. And we all know how those marriages went.”
“But you and House are different,” Chase argued.
“A lot of old people don’t marry, they just exist. I’m happy just existing with House. I don’t need to marry him to know I love him.”
Chase hummed. “Would you say ‘yes’ if he proposed?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Wilson replied.
“Uhh…” Chase just trailed off. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. If House does propose, I’d say ‘yes’, but I’m not planning on him doing so.” Wilson honestly didn’t want to get married again. He knew that in each marriage he’d run back to House every time, but being married to House is different. Maybe he could convince House to run to the local courthouse with him, but he didn’t think House would consider that. That’s okay.
“Do you think you and Foreman would ever get married?” Wilson asked, just to keep himself awake.
“I want to, but it’s way too early. He’d have to propose though, I’m not doing that shit,” Chase snorted, looking over at Wilson.
Wilson chuckled. “I get that.”
They were silent for a bit, though it was 1 am, and no one was on the road. Chase let out a loud, dramatic sigh and adjusted in his seat. “If you could have done any profession other than medicine, what would you have done?”
Wilson hummed. “Hmm, maybe teaching. Or a psychologist.”
“Really? I can see maybe a teacher, or a chef.” Chase was looking at Wilson with wide eyes, seemingly surprised by the answer.
Wilson chuckled. “I’d just like helping out other people, helping educate children. I probably wouldn’t be the best. House says I’m too lenient.”
Chase clicked his tongue. “Maybe.”
“What about you?”
Chase let out a sigh. “I’d like to go into engineering. Maybe civil or industrial. But I suck at math, so maybe like marketing or history. Oh, or I’d be a pilot!”
“That’d be interesting. My older brother wanted to be a pilot for years until our parents said they wouldn’t pay for flight school,” Wilson commented.
“Aww, that’s sad. Did you always want to be an oncologist?”
“Nope,” Wilson answered.
Chase hummed. “Me neither. Well, doctor, I mean. What changed?”
“My Mom lost her mind about it.” Wilson thought for a moment. “What happened to being a priest?”
“Kicked out.”
“Ah, okay. Did you want to be one?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Foreman hadn’t heard from Chase all morning. He’d texted, not called, but no response. House didn’t seem too worried, though himself and Cameron were. Chase usually responded to texts promptly. Maybe he was asleep, maybe they stopped a bit longer, or went immediately to the hotel room.
After the first conference, Foreman decided to check the room for Chase while Cameron dragged House to talk with some researchers. He checked his phone a few more times before just sighing and heading to the elevator.
He chose to call Chase instead. It dialed, rung, then went to voicemail. Foreman frowned. He called Wilson, he had to be up if Chase was sleeping. Same thing. It went to voicemail.
Once up, he unlocked the hotel room door and opened it, hoping Chase was lying on someone’s bed, asleep.
But no one was there. The beds were made, but Chase wasn’t in the room or bathroom.
He quickly called Cameron. “Chase isn’t here.”
“He was supposed to get in like an hour ago.”
“He’s not answering his phone. Neither is Wilson.”
He heard Cameron tell House that Wilson wasn’t answering his phone, who grunted and muttered something along the lines of “I’ll do it”.
“Is House calling?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Cameron replied. “The next conference starts in 20 minutes, are you going?”
Foreman thought about it. He knew he should go, but he wanted to wait until he heard back from Chase. He knew Chase would get back to him, but he needed to hear back from him soon. “Yeah, I’m on my way back down.”
“House said that Wilson’s not answering to him.”
“Do you think something happened?” Foreman asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Cameron answered with a bit of hesitation.
Foreman just sighed and hung up the phone. He texted Chase again, just a simple ‘call me asap’.
He made his way back down the ballrooms and quickly found House and Cameron, which wasn’t hard since House was arguing with someone about something. He stopped by Cameron’s side and muttered, “What’s he mad about?”
“No clue,” Cameron murmured.
Foreman just sighed for the nth time. “House, come on, let’s go.” He pulled House away from the man and helped him to the ballroom for the next conference.
House turned to Cameron. “Did you try calling them?”
“No, if they’re not answering to you or Foreman, they won’t answer to me.”
House groaned. “Whatever,” he grumbled, sitting down in a chair. Foreman and Cameron shuffled in beside him. “What’s this one anyways?”
“Patient Ethics,” Cameron said, amused.
House scowled. “Yeah, those are irrelevant.”
Foreman knew Chase would be making fun of their boss for this, how ironic it was that House was sitting in a conference about ethics that he so chooses to ignore. Of course, Chase wasn’t here and wouldn’t get to see the frown on House’s face as the conference started.
Chase was ready to get to the hotel and take a nap. He wasn’t the best at sleeping upright, though if he was absolutely exhausted he could, but he just couldn’t sleep on this car ride. Wilson had been singing along to the radio for the past hour, seeing that neither of them were getting any sleep or rest. And of course they got stuck in traffic just outside of Dayton.
“How much longer?” Chase asked.
“About 2 hours,” Wilson mumbled.
Chase groaned. “Longer because of this traffic?”
“Yep, probably.”
It didn’t help that they stopped at a rest area for about an hour for Wilson to take a small nap. Chase had offered, but he didn’t really want to drive. He wasn’t very good at it either.
Wilson sighed, seeming to be frustrated with the stop-and-go traffic as people rushed to work. Chase just leaned against the window. “Did you always live in New Jersey?”
Wilson shrugged. “I mean, I was born in New Jersey. I lived in Vermont and Pennsylvania, went to undergrad in Canada and went back to Pennsylvania for med school.”
“If you could be one car for the rest of your life, what car would you be?”
“Chase what the fuck.”
“What car?”
“Maybe a Toyota?”
Chase chuckled. “Why a Toyota?”
“I don’t know? They’re pretty reliable?” Wilson blinked, obviously very confused. “What car would you be?”
Chase just shrugs and makes a noise resembling an “I dunno”. Chase bites his lip. “Okay so would House hire me if I was a worm?”
“No.”
Chase pouted. “Aww.”
“Are you done asking these questions?”
“You sound like House.”
“I live with House.”
Chase just hummed, sighing before
sitting up. He frowned. “Uhh, does something look wrong with that truck?”
Wilson frowned. “What?”
“The truck, up on the bridge.”
Wilson looked up. “Oh shit, you’re right.”
Chase stared at the truck before gasping. “It’s gonna fall.”
Wilson bit his lip, staring at the truck as he drove, approaching the bridge. The truck, a big 18-wheeler, was coming across the bridge before seemingly losing control, falling straight over the side of the bridge.
Chase didn’t have time to react as it got dark around him. His body jerked around as they crashed, the sound of metal crushing filling his ears. He heard Wilson curse. He felt something stabbing him in the abdomen and leg, but he still retained consciousness. What the fuck.
The car was definitely totaled. Something was crushing the front of it and something else on top and behind. And everything hurts. He had blood in his vision and he was pretty sure he had broken an arm, but he didn’t care.
He was able to unbuckle and crawled out from under the car. His head hurt like a bitch, he probably had a concussion, but he needed to see what just happened.
“Wilson?” he croaked out, his voice basically shot.
He didn’t get a response. Well shit. He stumbled as he stood up. The 18-wheeler took up all of the lanes, several vehicles were crushed, including the one he was just in. It was a miracle he was still conscious. He needed to check on Wilson.
“Wilson?” he slurred, slowly moving around.
“Chase?” It was low, barely there, but Wilson was, in fact, alive. Thank God. House would kill him before these injuries would if Wilson died.
“Wilson, where are you?”
Wilson groaned, and Chase knew he was fucked.
“Are you stuck? Wait, that’s a stupid question.” Chase limped over to the other side of the car.
Wilson was practically trapped in the car. Chase, despite his better judgment due to a car-crash ridden, delirious mind, worked to get the older man out. It probably wasn’t the best thing with a possibly broken arm, but the sacrifices he had to make.
Wilson was clearly bleeding out and needed to get to a hospital. Chase did too, but he needed to help Wilson. “Just help me up, we gotta check the other cars.”
Chase scoffed. “We need to take care of ourselves.” He pushed a hunk of metal off, scraping the palms of his hands on it.
Wilson was clutching his side. “Chase, Jesus, you look awful.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”
Wilson suddenly bent over and puked. Chase scrunched his nose and looked behind him at the wreck. There was about to be a fire, he realized, and he turned to Wilson. “We gotta get away. There’s an oil tank spilling.”
Wilson was crouched over, catching his breath. “Got it.” After a moment he stood up. “Do you have your wallet on you?”
Chase nodded, starting to feel lightheaded. Wilson just grunted. They slowly moved away from their car. Chase realized he didn’t have his phone on him, and neither did Wilson, but they silently decided not to go back.
There were cars all over the place, some with a few dents or scratches, and others totaled. People were standing around or lying on the concrete. Chase saw two people unconscious (he hoped) in a completely wrecked Corolla.
He was pretty sure the 18-wheeler driver was dead, and maybe the people in the cars directly under said 18-wheeler. They were close, just right behind those cars that got crushed. If they were any faster-
Wilson placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna pass out,” he slurred.
Chase could barely understand it. His hearing was muffled, so he just nodded. He heard cars beeping, maybe an ambulance, it was too cloudy and dark to make anything out.
Wilson slowly brought both of them down onto the pavement. “Did they call an…” he trailed off, catching his breath.
“‘Dunno.” Chase lied down. “I… maybe can hear…?”
He heard a woman scream, a man sobbing and crying. Wilson looked at him. “Someone died.”
Chase felt something wet on his cheek. “You’re crying,” he pointed out.
Wilson sighed. “No, you are.”
They both didn’t know. Chase just let out a whine. “We’re going to die.”
“No, we’re not. Don’t say that,” Wilson murmured.
Chase let out a laugh. “And my last words are ‘we’re gonna die’.”
“Chase-“ then Wilson let out a laugh too. “Hmm, my last words would be… ooh!” He winced, hissing as he clutched his side.
Chase gasped, looking over at him. “You good?”
“Are paramedics coming?”
“Probably,” Chase replied, though neither of them believed that.
He wondered how Foreman and Cameron were doing. And House, but House wasn’t his to worry about. Did Foreman miss him? Did they even notice he was missing? He hoped Foreman noticed. It’d be real shitty if he didn’t.
Wilson threw his head back against the concrete. More people were calling for help, and Chase was glad they had moved into a more visible area or else they probably would have been even more screwed.
“Shit, I’m gonna die,” Wilson admitted softly, a grimace on his face as he took deep, ragged breaths.
“I’ll die with you.”
Wilson looked over at him. “Yeah, you have some metal sticking out of your leg.”
“Your leg is bent in a weird ass way.”
“Don’t worry, I can’t feel my legs.”
“Your arms?”
“No.” Wilson was pretty calm for a dying man. It probably wasn’t worth it.
“Oh you’re fucked,” Chase chuckled, making Wilson laugh as well.
Wilson coughed, and Chase swore he saw something red. Great. Chase tried to sit up. “Wilson?”
And just like that Wilson slumped, his body going lax. Chase gasped, sitting up quickly despite his body protesting, telling him to stop. “Wilson!”
He pressed his bloody hands to Wilson’s chest, pushing as hard as he could in case Wilson was dying. “Help! I need help!” he heard himself call.
His head felt like he was underwater, his body hurt and his breathing was shallow. “Oh shit,” he probably muttered, he couldn’t really tell.
His vision began to get more spotty than it already was, and he felt himself dreading something. “Help! I need… help…” he felt himself getting exhausted. He wouldn’t be conscious for long.
“We have two over here!” he heard a man call. Chase really couldn’t tell.
He felt his body give out as he fell against Wilson’s unconscious one, and his vision became black. He hoped Foreman was doing alright.