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Chase would forever be grateful that he had worked for House for two years before the others joined their team. Sure, all of House’s attention was on him in those two years, and anyone could tell you that that was a bad thing. But it also meant that he had gotten a lot of the initial humiliation out of the way before there was a bigger audience than Wilson.
Chase had gone into his interview with House expecting the worst. He’d heard the rumors; the warnings. But he needed to get out of Sydney, out of Australia altogether. The interview proved the rumors to be true: Chase walked out of the office wondering if he’d somehow fucked his life up even more.
But two days later, he got the job. And he kept it.
They fell into a relationship that Chase would say, to no one but himself, was pretty good. House was an asshole, a fucking cunt really, but he also had moments where Chase could swear that his mentor cared for him.
House wasn’t some irredeemable monster; he was just House. And House happened to be one of the most infuriating people Chase had ever had the pleasure of knowing.
A few months after he was first hired, it became apparent, quickly, that nothing was off limits for his boss, not even his medical file. It was exactly the kind of illegal bullshit he’d do to try and dig up dirt on his employee.
Despite the premonition that it might be something for Chase to worry about, that didn’t stop his heart from lurching in alarm when House announced that that was exactly what he was doing at the moment.
“Why is your medical file so long?” House groused from his desk, “Wombat Sr. drag you in for every test imaginable?”
Chase’s pulse thudded in his ears, and he sank deeper into the couch. “Clumsy kid,” He shrugged, “I also played sports and didn’t have a lot of supervision.”
House made a curious noise, “Why aren’t you trying to stop me? For someone so private, I figured this’d be your worst fear.”
“Would it stop you?” Chase asked with a sigh.
“Nope,” House replied, “But it’s more fun if you protest.”
Chase rolled his eyes, fighting a nervous frown, “Fine. Would you at least wait until I’m not in the room to do something very illegal and invade my privacy?”
He hoped House would get bored before getting to anything Chase was trying to hide; it was a long shot, but maybe if he appeared unbothered, then House would give up.
House snorted before turning his full attention back to the computer, leaving Chase to keep working on their latest patient’s file in silence.
Chase’s hands trembled slightly, stomach twisting and turning in knots as anxiety threatened to bring back his lunch. But there was no stopping House now; he’d just have to live with the ridicule that’d come with it. He could do that, no problem; he survived five months in Sydney after he returned from medical leave. And that job had been a lot less important to him.
“Musta been really clumsy for three spiral fractures,” House remarked, eyeing Chase as he curled in on himself.
“Played rugby,” Chase explained, only half lying.
“You sure daddy dearest didn’t have anything to do with it?” House asked, something taunting in his tone, “Maybe even mommy?”
Chase took a deep breath, fighting the anger that threatened to bubble over, “Why is it any of your business?”
“That’s a yes. No wonder Dr. Chase’s phone call was so weird,” House replied with an evil grin.
“He called?” Chase said, incredulous.
House nodded, “Tried to pull strings to get you hired. Didn’t work.”
Chase raised an eyebrow, “And yet, here I am.”
“Here you are,” House grumbled.
Chase turned back to his paperwork, biting back a grin. Anyone else would call him crazy, but he was almost one hundred percent sure that House actually liked him, at least some of the time.
Somehow, House got through the rest of Chase’s file without anything more than a few sarcastic remarks. A contemplative silence had fallen on the office, and Chase was left to stew in his anxiety. He actually jumped when House cleared his throat, dropping two of the files. House rolled his eyes, “I’m not that much of a monster, you can calm down.”
Chase nodded, something giddy and so very grateful breaking out a smile on his face.
-----------------------
They had lost their patient. Internal bleeding had cropped up practically out of nowhere, and Chase couldn’t clamp it in time. The air was tense in the conference room, and House was already having a bad pain day, so everyone was more on edge than normal.
Chase had already been fighting with House all day, and this just made it worse. Foreman and Cameron were smartly staying out of it. “You were distracted,” House accused, leaning heavily on his cane.
Chase rolled his eyes, “No, I wasn’t. She was bleeding from too many places.”
“Don’t act like we both don’t know you were asking for it,” House shot back, something dark and bitter shadowing his face.
Chase’s heart skipped a beat. “Right, yeah, I’m sorry. I was too busy praying for our patient to die to save her,” He replied, sarcasm heavy in his accent, “That’s why she hemorrhaged in multiple different areas.”
“We both know that’s not what I’m talking about,” House accused. He was aiming to hurt, and hit dead on. They weren’t talking about the patient anymore; House wanted someone else to be in as much pain as he was, and Chase had pulled the short straw.
Chase choked back bile, betrayal swirling uncomfortably in his stomach. “That was low, even for you,” Chase said, watching as what House had just said dawning on the man, “I thought you weren’t that much of a monster?”
House bit back another retort, guilt swimming in his eyes. “That was before you killed our patient,” House yelled, doubling down in the face of his conscience.
Chase sent House a look before turning around, “I’m not fucking dealing with this.”
He stormed out of the conference room, ignoring Foreman’s and Cameron’s eyes that followed him. Sometimes he really hated this job. He needed out, away from House, away from the case. But he couldn’t go home; the icky feeling that suffocated his lungs would only get worse if he went home.
He ended up picking up a shift in NICU, letting the monotony of the work calm the jittering in his bones. He liked the NICU; the patients didn’t talk back, and people left him alone to do his work.
House shambled into the viewing room hours later, watching as Chase ignored him for a total of half an hour. He tapped the cane on the glass, signalling Chase to come talk to him.
Chase sighed, finishing up his chart before joining House in the viewing room. “Let’s get a snack,” House ordered, ambling off with the expectation of being followed.
Chase walked behind House as they made their way to the nearest vending machine alcove. He knew the man wouldn’t apologize; he wasn’t even sure House knew the words ‘I’m sorry’. But whatever was about to happen was House’s equivalent; it happened enough that Chase recognised the tension in his boss's shoulders.
What was surprising was that House paid for their snacks, shoving a Snickers and a Coke into Chase’s arms. The two sat down against the wall, House stretching his leg out gingerly in front of them.
It was silent for a moment, and Chase tore into his candy bar.
House cleared his throat, “We missed an early ectopic pregnancy. She hemorrhaged in multiple places, including her brain. There was nothing we could do once she started bleeding.”
Chase nodded, “Can’t believe we missed that.”
“Yeah,” House agreed, “I’m gonna blame Foreman somehow.”
Chase snorted, bitterness welling up in him, “Not my fault anymore? Didn’t ask for it?”
House sighed, sliding a sleeve of TimTam’s over to Chase. “Five broken bones, two fractures, enough bruises to paint an ugly picture, and enough paralytic to take out two men,” House listed, staring intently at the snack options in front of them, “You couldn’t have possibly asked for it.”
Chase hummed, eyes trained on the cookie packet now cradled in his hands. That was the closest to a ‘sorry’ as Chase was going to get, and he was okay with it. “Only reason they’re in jail,” He admitted, “Where’d you get these?”
“None of your business,” House grumbled, “Wilson’s invited you to dinner tonight.”
“Awesome,” Chase smiled, knocking their knees together, “He’s a good cook.”
House nodded, “That he is.”