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  What Now? 
 by explorer0713  

 

House MD


What Now?

"Line 3, was it?"

When the nurse confirmed this with a nod, he picked up the receiver and
punched the corresponding button on the phone at the nurse's station.

"This is Robert--" he said.

It was his stepmother on the phone. He immediately knew something was
wrong. He could count on one hand the number of times his stepmother had
called him. He didn't even need the whole hand. Nevertheless, he wasn't
even remotely prepared for what she told him.

Stunned, he forced himself to speak. He fumbled an "Um, what did he die
of?"

And when she said lung cancer, he didn't believe her. "That's impossible.
I saw him two months ago. If he had lung cancer, he would have..."

And then she assured him it was true and that his father had purposely not
told him. She said he wanted to spare him. Neither of them believed it
fully.

"Dr. Chase?" he heard someone ask. At least, he thought he heard someone
call him. A woman. Maybe she did. Maybe not. Maybe - it sounded so far
away. He couldn't be sure.

He put down the phone and for a few seconds just stood there, frozen in
time and space. Each passing second was filled with so many conflicting
thoughts and emotions, yet if pressed to identify any of them, he wasn't
at all sure he would be able to do it. Except for one of them. Except for
the one that kept coming back over and over to the forefront.

The one that asked, "What now?"

That was the question, now, wasn't it. What the hell was he supposed to do
now?

What was he doing before the call? Clinic hours. No, he finished that for
the day. Back to Diagnostic Medicine then. Back to his home department.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Home. Should he go home? They would all expect him to go. Did he have to
go home? They would all tell him he had to go. Did he even want to go?
They would all think he was a bastard if he didn't. Why should he go? What
purpose would it serve? What good would it do?

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He turned to see who had spoken to him. It was a patient, Kayla. Patient.
Business. Just take care of business for the moment. Just take care of the
patient.  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.