Intense

—passionate in emotion, thought, or activity; occurring or existing in a high degree; very strong, violent, extreme, sharp, vivid, etc.—

Disclaimer: I don't own House, M.D. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter 1: Envy

Chase walked into the Princeton Plains-Borough Teaching Hospital at exactly 6:30 in the morning, for once not quite late or even feeling hurried. In fact, he was wide awake, another oddity, since he generally wasn't at his best in the mornings. Foreman was already there, but House and Cameron were missing. Strange, since House almost always beat them here. Sometimes Foreman even joked that House probably slept here, which couldn't bef that far off the mark.

They walked in together not more than five minutes later, though, and the atmosphere in the room changed entirely. Nothing had really changed over one night, but it was immediately apparent that something had changed. He simply sensed it in some imperceptible way, and a quick glance at Foreman told him that he wasn't the only one. It wasn't the familiar picture of House and the three young doctors that made up his team, anymore. It was a neurologist, an intensivist, and House and his girlfriend.

Last night House and Cameron had gone out on a formal date to some classy and overly expensive Italian restaurant. That in itself wasn't so surprising, despite the fact that a month ago neither Chase nor Foreman could have come close to imagining the two dating. House and Cameron had been together for almost two weeks now, and this was probably their third or fourth date, according to the rumor mill, at least. The only thing that made this one different was that it was just so obvious that they'd shared more than just dinner that night.

It was in the way that Cameron absentmindedly adjusted House's collar. Like a wife or something, Chase thought uncharitably. They might as well have been wearing a sign, 'recently fucked and happy about it' or something. It was in the way that she had a bright, happy glow around her, like she was announcing it to the world. Or the casual way House brushed by her, when he ordinarily went to such great lengths to go around anyone just so that he didn't make contact with them.

The potential in the room for an awkward silence was amazing. Foreman exchanged a meaningful look with Chase, clearly finding the whole deal funny, and then seemed a little surprised at the icy glare he got back in return. Chase stood up and grabbed a patient's file, prefparing to leave the room, but he was stopped at the door by Cuddy.

"New case came in," she informed them, handing over a clipboard to House. "The patients are in critical condition and there's two more coming in with the exact same symptoms."

It was enough for them all to pretend that everything was completely normal, but Chase noticed how Cameron gave House a special smile, as if to say, see, it wasn't so bad. Not sure whether to be more annoyed with the couple or with himself, he deliberately turned away to Foreman and listened to his fellow doctor debrief them on the patient's condition. He wasn't the kind of guy to mope after some girl that was with someone else. She wasn't for him and he just had to accept it. Even if everything in him was crying out that Cameron didn't belong with House either.

House called for a differential diagnosis, and his elite team, aka the 'ducklings,' responded the way they were supposed to. Chase was momentarily chagrined to find that he'd used that term, even in his thoughts, further evidence that Wilson was rubbing off on him. They tossed around ideas, names of diseases, little facts that seemed irrelevant but could have an impact in some way. The usual competition to find the right treatment preoccupied him enough that he could pretend to himself that he didn't see how Cameron's hand brushed House's, or the way she handed him a cup of coffee.

He was really losing it, if watching her cradling the cup of steaming liquid and then carefully passing it to House seemed to be meaningful on more than one level. Coffee cups and hearts. Perfect symbolism. All his old English teachers would be proud.

The case was an awful one and it was easy to lose himself in the barrage of tests and scans to do. Chase couldn't afford to be distracted when three people's lives were at stake, and they deserved to have a doctor they could depend on. No matter how often his thoughts drifted in that direction, or he found himself watching her covertly, Chase brought himself back to reality with a single-minded determination.

By late morning he was feeling the effects and rather irritable that it was affecting him so much. It didn't help that the first patient's condition had continued to deteriorate and that they still weren't sure what was causing it. They were vomiting blood and losing sensation in their limbs, yet there wasn't anything House and his team could really do. How many times had Chase stood by a patient's bed and watched them die, bit by bit, the will to live struggling against the body's breakdown?

Chase wasn't the least bit hungry when lunchtime rolled around, but he decided that at least he could go out for a breath of fresh air. He was a doctor, it was natural that he should be in a hospital, but sometimes it was a little too much to be constantly surrounded by the sick and dying. Sometimes he woke up and he could still smell the antiseptic soap that they used, that scent that lingered over everything and anything, or maybe it was only in his mind.

The sound of footsteps made him turn around to face the person he last wanted to see. Cameron came empty-handed, probably as disinclined to eat as he was. She looked surprised to see him there, but she gave him a smile anyway. He could see that it was forced; the morning had taken its toll on everyone.

"Anything?"

She shook her head. "No change at all." She was quiet for a moment and then burst out, "Sometimes I just can't stand how—how cold he is with the patient's family. He made the mother cry when he bluntly told her that her daughter was dying. Oh, I know that she would have cried anyway. But he doesn't have to go for the shock effect. He doesn't need to be cruel to others while being cruel to himself. Why does he have to be this way? Can't he just—change?"

He didn't bother telling her that she was the only one who still had the idealist's dream of changing House. Didn't bother telling her that if she loved House only because she saw him as a challenge, as someone to 'fix,' like some good-Samaritan project, then she didn't love him at all. Instead, Chase only said, "Do you want him to?"

"Yes…" She had very blue eyes and the color was especially intense now. "No."

"Well, which is it, Cameron?" He said it a little ruthlessly, pushed slightly too far. To be talking to her like he was their relationship counselor or something. Without realizing it, he ran a hand through his hair, and then realized that his hands weren't gloved for once. Even the protection of professionalism had been stripped away.

He remembered the first day she'd come to talk to him about her feelings for House. How much he felt like shaking her, then, telling her she shouldn't go for it. The words had been on his lips, but he'd realized it would only make him lose their friendship. So instead, he'd encouraged her, because it made her happy, and that's what he really wanted, in the end. He wanted to see her smile, even if it wasn't directed at him, but at someone else.

"If I changed him he wouldn't be who he is. But," she bit her lip and turned away so that he wouldn't see her expression, "I don't know how long we can last if he didn't change."

Whatever he might have thought of as a reply to that was cut off by the approach of a nurse. "Dr. Chase! Dr. Cameron! Adeline Smithe is going into convulsions and Dr. House needs you now!"

There was just enough time for Chase's eyes to meet Cameron's for a moment before they both set off, personal issues set aside again, similar in their resolve to save a patient's life.

It didn't matter, though. Seven hours later, having stayed later than usual because of the case (it wasn't entirely a joke when Foreman complained of practically living at the hospital) Chase and Cameron faced the parents of Adeline Smithe and expressed their deepest regrets that, unfortunately, their daughter had passed away.

Only one out of the three had survived, in the end. Thirty-three percent, Chase thought tiredly, later. Point three three three... The endless repetition of that awkward statistic seemed mocking. There were days that didn't end well, more days than he really cared to remember. He was glad that Cameron was there to help the parents. And House? He hadn't even stopped by.

He'd felt a wave of anger at that, and looking at Cameron, he saw his feelings reflected in her eyes. House had worked on these patients for over twelve hours but somehow he couldn't have spared a few minutes to come by and face the parents, to express his condolences, whether he really meant them or not. It would have given them that much more comfort. Mr. and Mrs. Smithe needed to know that the doctors had done everything they could to save their child, a young woman only twenty three years old. They needed to know it wasn't some faceless, nameless doctor arbitrarily deciding life or death.

But wasn't that exactly what House did? Chase admired him for his skill and for his dedication. But sometimes it was hard not to wish that House was just a little bit more human. He hid his own pain under his veneer of pretended indifference and his sarcasm, and it was all right—sometimes. Foreman, Chase, even Cameron laughed along with him—sometimes.

Or maybe Chase was just being harsh because he envied him, because Cameron had all but offered House her heart on a silver platter. At least they hadn't left together tonight. It seemed like the day's events had strained their happy, newly-meaningful relationship.

Foreman was gone, House was gone, and that left him and Cameron alone in the room. Despite still not being really in the mood to eat, his body was reminding him that he hadn't fed it anything since twelve hours ago, when he'd grabbed a cup of coffee. Chase took out the sandwich that should've been his lunch and decided to eat before heading home.

"Give me your sandwich?"

"What?" The request, coming out of nowhere, surprised him so much he nearly dropped the food. Chase looked up at Cameron, taken aback. "Why?"

She gave him a look at that reflected more of her old spirit. "Because I'm hungry and I didn't eat lunch."

He looked down at the sandwich and its appealing ingredients and realized he was hungry. "No way! Neither did I, so get your own!"

"Fine, be that way," she sulked. Chase blinked, certain that he was seeing or hearing wrong. It must be an effect of fatigue or something, like a hallucination. Cameron could not possibly be looking at him like that, like he'd just stolen candy from a baby or something. The beautiful and intelligent Cameron could not possibly be resorting to pouting to get her way, right? And did she really have to look so damned cute even when she was accusing him like that with her eyes?

But the look didn't change and finally he rolled his eyes and relented, barely able to believe Cameron had totally made him defenseless with such childish tactics. "All right, all right. I'll share half with you."

She gave him a smile that told him that she'd been playing him all along, and he gave over half the sandwich with a mock sigh, part of him pleased and part of him exasperated. Why was it that she never picked Foreman or Wilson or, for goodness' sake, even House, her new boyfriend, to victimize?

House. Her new boyfriend. The smile dropped from his face and Chase started eating silently, trying his best to ignore her even though she sat right across the table from him. Cameron looked at him but he was so determined not to make eye contact that she gave up, thinking that he just wanted some time alone after the dismal events of the day. Chase was occupied with his thoughts, but they bore no relationship to the ones she imagined.

It seemed so wrong, somehow, and not just because their personalities were polar opposites or because of the age gap. They wanted different things from it. Cameron wasn't the type to go for a fling, and House obviously wasn't the type to commit. Nothing good would come of it, right? Half the time they had to get on each others' nerves, Cameron being the do-gooder and House, the sarcastic jerk.

But despite all these reasons, deep down Chase had to admit it. There was really nothing wrong with House and Cameron being together except for the simple fact that he didn't want them to be together. In fact, he didn't want Cameron with anyone, period. He'd even hoped that she wouldn't be from the very first time, despite how Cameron had treated him with a cool, almost cold professionalism during their brief conversation.

He had tried unsuccessfully to deny it for a long time, but there came a point when the futility of trying to lie to himself made it worse. The plain truth was, he wanted Cameron for himself and he was only so irked because he was going crazy…being jealous of House.

xxxxx

Please review! Just realize that this story was written before many things happened onscreen, so there will obviously be some differences. However, hopefully it stays true to the characters and believable as an alternate scenario. Thanks – E.D.