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Chase was alerted by the door closing softly and footsteps walking away from it. His mind raced in shock as he ran through what must have happened.
Someone must have come in and been so quiet I didn’t hear and- oh god, was I talking to myself? I was.. I think, they must have heard- it could’ve been anyone, they can’t know it was me, they might- oh shit, damn my accent-
It’ll be all over the hospital by this afternoon.
He felt his stomach flip and he was scared he was going to be sick again. Sat on the floor, he leant back against the flimsy wall of the cubicle and felt his body shake as he attempted to blink away the dampness threatening to-
Too late. He felt a tear carve its way down his face and taste salty on his lips.
And another. And another. And oh god, I can’t breathe, I can’t-
Wiping his cheeks roughly, he was scared by his quivering hands.
Come on Chase, grow up. You still need to finish that ANA.
Standing up, using the toilet to assist him, he washed his hands before looking at himself in the mirror above the sinks.
Right, splash some water on your face, there- no, your eyes still look dead, try smiling- no, that makes you look demented-
He was startled again by someone opening the door, Chase simply stayed still, assuming they would mind their own business.
He didn’t assume Foreman had come in looking for him.
Momentarily startled, Chase tried to fix his hair in the mirror and noticed his fingers were still shaking. Not noticing Foreman was still standing behind him, he placed his hands on either side of the basin and took some deep breaths.
“Hey”
It made him jump, but the softness of his voice made him worried.
“Hi,” Chase sucked in a breath, attempting to clear the wetness from his eyes and pursing his lips to try and maintain the façade. “Got the CT back yet?”
I just need to keep it together until Foreman is out of sight-
“Chase, are you okay? ”
He said it in the way people ask questions when they already know the answer. As a formality that replaces demanding to know what’s torturing someone. As he saw the pained look in Foreman’s eyes it was obvious that he knew something was seriously wrong.
And he wants to be able to pity me, and he’s got the look that means he already knows what’s happening. He looks like he knows every detail, like he can see right through to my empty stomach and ragged throat, he can see the sleepless nights and drunk nights and numb nights and how I hate it so much. And the helplessness I feel when I just can't stop.
Chase went to make an excuse that he was tired and to leave him alone, but as the words worked their way from his brain to his tongue he short-circuited, choking and exposing him.
+++
He saw Chase freeze only for a second after he’d asked it, but suddenly his face contorted and the agony seemed to ooze out of him. He went to move backward, hiding his face in his hands but tripped on the paper towel bin as Foreman reached out to guide him to the floor.
As he sat next to him, he could hear Chase’s breathing was shallow but controlled as he tried to regain his composure. His doctor’s coat was stiff and kept it’s shape, but Chase still seemed small cowering beneath it as he attempted to disguise his shoulders and hands shaking.
As he began to still, he looked up and rubbed his face, “Sorry- god, I’m so sorry, you alright?”
Foreman did seem terrified of his ability to suddenly ask about his own wellbeing when Chase had been trembling only moments before, and if he looked he could still see his forearms quivering slightly when he kept them still.
“Yeah, I- I mean I’m fine,” Foreman sighed, knowing what he’d seen was going to have to come out sooner or later now that House had his claws in Chase’s ‘case’.
“I saw you earlier,” he treaded carefully.
He saw Chase try not to let his eyes go wide but he could tell that he’d already known someone had been there. He could see the slight relief that it was someone he knew and not a total stranger he couldn’t bargain with, but also the panic that followed as he realised Foreman’s view of him was permanently altered.
“When you were-” he gulped uncomfortably.
“Yeah, I know, I know.” Chase muttered awkwardly. He certainly did not want a recounting of his disgusting habit from someone who wouldn’t, couldn’t, understand.
“Oh god,” Chase tugged at his hair, but Foreman could tell it was just an attempt at hiding his expression as they were sitting side-by-side. Rubbing his face aggressively and exhaling forcefully, leaning further into the wall, he seemed defeated. Surely Foreman hasn’t kept this to himself. His voice broke as he avoided the thoughts of how they would look him up and down, trying to find evidence of Foreman’s claims. Somewhere in his head there was a whisper about how much progress he’d made, and not to give up now. At somepoint he looked up to see Foreman’s concerned, afraid expression.
“I don’t want to live like this anymore.”