[Chase stays sprawled on the carpet, his fingers still circled around the absence of her wrist. Looking up. Where he'd expected a view into another world is just the same painted ceiling he's stared at a hundred times before when Cuddy's called them in to try and circumvent House's machinations. It doesn't feel right, though he tells himself there was no fanfare when he arrived in the City, why should there be anything to signify leaving.
And that thought itself is something to think about.
He twists, scuffing his shirt against expensive carpeting and pushing himself up on one elbow to watch her.]
Do you remember?
[He does. By all accounts he shouldn't. By all rationale he should be waking in bed, or a hospital bed, or under the car he figures he met six months ago on his way to get coffee. He's still the same as he was in the city, but this office, this world at first glance appears equally unchanged. Both can't apply at once.]
☞ paradise is close at hand in images of elsewhere
And that thought itself is something to think about.
He twists, scuffing his shirt against expensive carpeting and pushing himself up on one elbow to watch her.]
Do you remember?
[He does. By all accounts he shouldn't. By all rationale he should be waking in bed, or a hospital bed, or under the car he figures he met six months ago on his way to get coffee. He's still the same as he was in the city, but this office, this world at first glance appears equally unchanged. Both can't apply at once.]