This chapter of the uproariously MST-able fic where Chase gets AIDS from being raped by his two brothers, was too long to MST in one go. Please enjoy this first half of the chapter, and look for the rest tomorrow or the next day.
After a lunch break, the ace gang reassembles in the Diagnostics conference room to continue reading badfic. Foreman has managed to coax Chase out of the corner, and he is sitting at the table with the rest, although he’s still wrapped in a hospital-issue blanket and holding a giant teddy bear.
House: Chase, you haven’t taken a turn reading yet.
Foreman: You can’t make him read this! He’s not strong enough.
Chase: **sniffles** I’ll try, House. **takes badfic printouts.** Um, okay. This chapter is called “House Is A Briefs Kinda Guy.” I guess that refers to your underwear?
Wilson: If it does, he’s not.
House: Go on.
Chase: **reads**
House sat in the break room, it was the only place with TV and a VCR. He had taken the liberty of stealing the keys and locking it.
House: Okay, if we only had one break room in the whole hospital…I would totally steal the keys and lock everyone else out. Every day. Especially if the only TV and VCR in the whole hospital were in there.
Cameron: Are you being sarcastic?
House: No.
It was near nightfall anyway, not like anyone was going to use it.
Foreman: Because…the people who work the night shift don’t take breaks?
Wilson: I don’t think the author-person realizes that people require medical care ‘round the clock.
He sat in the chair facing the TV, holding in his hands a video tape that he was pondering on watching.
House: Ah reckon mebbe I’ll wartch this here vid-yah tape.
Wilson: **shakes head furiously** What was that accent supposed to be?
House: I’m not really sure.
Cameron: Wait, is this the tape? The one Foreman and I watched, of Chase being raped by his brothers?
House: That would seem to be the natural assumption, yes.
Cameron: That we gave you three weeks ago?
House: I guess I had a lot of other things to watch first.
Wilson: Or maybe you had a hard time getting access to a rare piece of equipment like a VCR.
In a way, a gut feeling could tell him he knew what the video tape contained.
House: My gut was telling me I knew what the tape contained. In a way. In another way, that sentence conveys absolutely nothing.
Its contents would probably not be anything to be surprised about.
Cameron: Okay…I guess here the author-person is trying to explain why you haven’t watched it yet. Maybe.
Just confirm things he already knew. So why should he watch it?
Cameron: And I totally agree. Fic!you should not watch it. I wish fic!me hadn’t.
Chase: **voice muffled by bear fur** Me too.
Why would he want to watch one of his own ducklings having --- things done to him? Then again, why did he care? After all, something in the tape could be key to figuring out the diagnosis for at least one of the Chase brothers.
House: Right, but if I thought that might be the case, I’d have watched it already.
Because now, all three of them were sick. And usually, when more than one member of a family get sick, its more than likely that the illnesses are connected.
Wilson: Um…Chase--Robert Chase, I mean--and James Chase-- **shudders** --are not so much “sick” as “injured.” And they’re both “sick” because they did weird things to each other with a knife. So yes, their conditions are related, but not exactly a mystery.
Cameron: And in the last chapter we found out that the other one--Charles--had HIV, lupus, and allergies. And you just said to get Chase--Robert--an HIV test too.
House: Right. So we’ve established that I have absolutely nothing to gain by watching this tape.
House sighed. He was a doctor, and a doctor must do what a doctor should do. Stick to his duties.
All: **laugh**
House: **wipes tear from his eye** I’ve always thought that was one of my best qualities. My devotion to duty.
Wilson: Especially if “duty” means watching amateur porn.
And so, he inserted the video tape into the vcr, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television.
Chase: **turns page** Oh, thank God. It’s a scene change.
Cameron changed the IV in Charles' arm. He was watching her, his blue eyes roving over what she was doing, watching her shaky hands.
House: Sweet Jesus, don’t let this be one of those fics where I’m Chase’s daddy. Or any of the Chases’ daddies.
Wilson: “Blue eyes” is often a symptom of Secret Spawn Syndrome, but it usually presents with another adjective. “Penetrating blue eyes” or “cerulean blue eyes,” for instance. We might be okay here.
House: I hope so.
Chase: Me too.
They were shaky from the tiresome and rather horrifying day she had just had.
Cameron: Well, if it was only rather horrifying.
Wilson: **whimpers**
Cameron felt a strong deal like just doing everything wrong on purpose.
House: Funny. I know what that sentence means…yet it doesn’t actually make sense. I can’t figure out what “deal like” is a typo--or braino--for.
'This bastard dosen't deserve to live', She thought. She was being barracaded
Foreman: If “barracaded” is anything like “barricaded,” that means she’s being walled off and protected by those thoughts.
House: I’ve got this one. She meant “barraged.”
by thoughts of giving him the wrong medicine or just flat out stabbing him with the nearest, sharpest object. They were in a hospital after all, it wasn't a very far fetched idea.
Cameron: Because that happens all the time in hospitals.
House: I don’t know why she’d bother murdering him. He has HIV. If he doesn’t have the money for the latest medications, he’ll be dead soon anyway.
All: **shocked looks**
House: Well, he will.
Chase: Maybe he has insurance. We don’t know.
House: Well, in that case, we’ll substitute different colors of tic-tacs for his HIV prescriptions. Much less messy than stabbing him with a random sharp implement that happens to be lying around.
Wilson: Speaking of that, we don’t really keep the scalpels in the patients’ rooms. Not usually, I mean.
House: But maybe we should start. So they’ll be handy when someone feels stabby.
So instead, she just got a blood sample quickly as she could before she had the chance to give into --- temptations.
As she was extracting the IV and reaching for the cotton ball, a weak stuttering sound came from Charles. Cameron jumped.
"Hey doctor." He said so quietly, Cameron had to strain her ears to barely make out what he was saying. "Tell Robbie ----- tell him ----- I'm real sorry. Tell him -- it wasn't my fault. I - I never meant to hurt no one. Tell Robbie --- that when I see mom, I'll tell her it wasn't his fault either. Tell him I'll tell her that when I see her in hell."
House: Oh, well, if you didn’t mean to hurt him--what exactly did you think was going to happen? Moron.
Chase: **sniffles** Thanks for sticking up for me. Fic!me, I mean.
House: Who’s sticking up for you? I’m just mocking the stupid.
Cameron stared at him for a moment, finished up, and walked halfway out of the room. She stopped at the doorway and turned to Charles.
"Hopefully that'll be soon."
Cameron: Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a good exit line before. **admires it**
House: You call that good?
Cameron: Well, if we’re grading on a curve.
James Chase laid awake in his bed. He was staring at the ceiling, his eyes jotting around frantically, as though searching for something that was about to attack.
House: “Jotting.” Interesting word choice. His eyes were making some quick notes on the ceiling, were they?
Foreman: She probably meant “darting.”
Wilson: It must be fun to just use words with no regard for their meaning. I think from now on, I’m going to pretend that “good morning” means “I’d like to have sex with you.”
House: Good morning!
Robbie was somewhere around here, and he knew it. He heard his voice. Almost echoing into his brain. Not loudly. More like a whisper.
House: Oh good! He’s hearing voices now. That will make this story even better.
"Thats for killing me..."
"One slice for raping me..."
"One slice for beating me..."
"One slice...
...for never letting me forget."
Wilson: I see the author-person liked that so much she had to see it again. Lovely.
Oh, how Robbie's sweet tainted words echoed in his head, whispered in his ear.
Foreman: “Sweet, tainted words”? What, are we just throwing random adjectives at the page now?
House: I’d like some heavy, rancid words, please.
Wilson: Sorry, all we have are greased, long-legged words.
House: What about some dry, blue words?
Wilson: I could maybe get you some frightening, checkered words on tomorrow’s delivery.
House: No, that won’t do. What about putrescent, adhesive words?
Wilson: Sorry, fresh out, but we have some--I think the premise has run out on this joke.
House: Yeah, I think it’s run its course. Chase, keep reading.
The whispers brought upon even more voices, the screaming of his father, the sobs of his mother.
He could see even now the rivers of blood that he had seen streaming from Robert's wrists. He had broken him, twisted him and mangled Robbie. But it was terribly hard to resist. Robert was beautiful. The eyes of the clearest blue sky, so sad, soft, and innocent.
Chase: Oh, crap. I have blue eyes in this too.
House: **winces** And there are adjectives. I don’t think I could handle the shame of having sired three Chaselets.
Cameron: I think we only have confirmed blue-eyes on two of them.
Wilson: It could still be a coincidence. “Sad, soft, and innocent,” aren’t the adjectives we usually get when they’re your eyes.
House: **perks up** True.
The golden hair of an angel, bright and stunning. Robbie's skin -- pale and white, fair and perfect. Robert was as beautiful as an angel. And just as James wanted to possess such a perfection, the perfect, angelic beauty that was his brother, he wanted to destroy it. He wanted to taint the gorgeous fair skin with cuts and ribbons of dark crimson. 'All the same, he deserves it...' James assured himself, 'He killed our mother. She was under his care, and she died. He killed her.'
House: Oh, well, as long as you had a good reason for cutting and raping your brother, that’s OK then.
Cameron: If fic!Chase had two older brothers, why was he responsible for taking care of their drunk mom?
House: Because he’s the one who drove her to drink by being a total pussy. Duh.
Chase: **whimpers**
Foreman: **glowers** **puts arm around Chase**
"Thats for killing me..."It echoed again.
James began to shiver and shake.
Wilson: Both, really? I hope “using two words that mean almost the same thing because you don’t want to pick” doesn’t become the new “almost.”
House: We’ll have to be alert.
He was getting restless, his position was uncomfortable. Though he couldnt move much, not enough to be able to warm himself, he had too many needles and bandages enveloping him. So simply, he tried to turn over.
Foreman: I take it now we’re just throwing some grammar in the general direction of the page and hoping some sticks?
What he saw when he did turn over horrified him.
Robbie was standing there right beside him.
House: I know I would be horrified if I was trying to get warm and Chase turned up.
Foreman: I wouldn’t.
Chase: **snuggles*
He looked cut up, bruised, and broken. He was bleeding from the mouth and tears were streaming down from his eyes.
Cameron: From what we’ve seen, that should warm James Chase right up.
"James, how could you do this to me?" Robert asked him in a shaky voice. "You were my brother, I loved you!"
Chase: Please be a hallucination, please be a hallucination, please be a hallucination…
"YOU SHUT UP!" James screamed.
"YOU TORE APART OUR FAMILY JAMES!!!" Robert yelled even louder into his face, sobbing more heavily as James began to sob too. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!!! IT WAS ALL YOUR FAULT MOM DIED!!! IF YOU HAD JUST TOLD DAD THE TRUTH, IT WOULDNT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY!!! MOM WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!!! ITS ALL YOUR FAULT JAMES!!!" Robert screamed at the top of his lungs.
House: Capslock and exclamation point abuse. Robert must be really mad.
Wilson: Nah, he’s just excited.
Foreman: Actually, I think it’s some kind of biting social satire.
Chase: Huh?
Foreman: Never mind.
"No, no, NOOO!!!" James sobbed and screamed and tried to block out everything that Robert was saying.
Foreman ran into the room. "What is the matter???" He asked a nearly seizing James.
Wilson: **headdesk** You are either seizing, or you aren’t. There is no “nearly.”
House: **Yoda voice** Only seize, or not seize.
"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!!" James yelled, pointing at Robert.
"Who??"
Chase: Oh thank God. I’m a hallucination! I might start going to church again.
"HIM!!!" James pointed frantically at Robbie who was there, still screaming at him, but James just couldnt hear what he was saying anymore.
A scared and baffled Foreman looked around and then shook his head.
House: I think you were right. The two adjectives thing is the new “nearly”
Wilson: Except we haven’t gotten rid of the old “nearly.”
"James, theres no one there."
Chase: And, scene change. **flips through the fic** We’re not even half done with the chapter! I think you gave me the longest one to read.
House: And we haven’t even found out how my briefs come into the story yet. Okay, we’ll take a break, and when we come back, it can be someone else’s turn to read.
Cameron: Who’s?
House: Hm. Tell you what. The person who brings me the best present at the end of the break, gets immunity from having to read for the rest of the day. Worst present gets the next turn.
Wilson: I hope you don’t expect to take part in your sick little game.
House: Well, yeah, but think of the natural advantage you have.
Wilson: **thinks** Oh!
House: You have…twenty minutes. Shop fast!
Chase, Foreman, and Cameron: **scatter**
House and Wilson: **retire to inner office**
Inner Office Blinds: **close**
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Comments
Seriously, the original author of this thing has some weird ideas about entertainment. I wouldn't even touch it without your MST version to reduce the impact.
Wilson: If it does, he’s not.
House: Go on. ---> *head hits table from laughing*
Wilson: “Blue eyes” is often a symptom of Secret Spawn Syndrome, but it usually presents with another adjective. “Penetrating blue eyes” or “cerulean blue eyes,” for instance. We might be okay here. ---> *wih falls off chair, laughing*
generally: I can't breath from laughing to much. Thanks a lot for this chapter! :-)
Guilt attacks usually don't hit people like James Chase. When you can't even keep your OCs' personalities and motives straight, your story has a problem. Ugh. Anyhoo, hurry up and post part B; this MST is great!!
Favourite lines
Wilson: It must be fun to just use words with no regard for their meaning. I think from now on, I’m going to pretend that “good morning” means “I’d like to have sex with you.”
House: Good morning!
Chase: **sniffles** I’ll try, House. **takes badfic printouts.** Um, okay. This chapter is called “House Is A Briefs Kinda Guy.” I guess that refers to your underwear?
Wilson: If it does, he’s not.
House: You call that good?
Cameron: Well, if we’re grading on a curve.
Hee hee hee