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It was early in the morning. The case they had was particularly tricky and had kept them at the hospital for several days now. The only time they'd go home was for sleep or a change of clothes. It's not like it's anything new, they had gotten used to these types of scenarios and would even joke about it.
However that didn't mean that it didn't weigh on them heavily some days. Cameron would start to get antsy and panicked, Foreman would get agitated and snap, and Chase-
Chase could go either of two ways. Sometimes he'd get loud and angry, shaking with uncontrolled fury and irritation. While more usually he'd go utterly silent, not a sound would leave his lips. It would freak Foreman out a lot since he wouldn't know that Chase was in the room until he turned around and would get the fright of his life.
Cameron found it more concerning, and would worry when she saw him like that. He'd wave her off and say that it's just him zoning out, that these long cases would tire him out and distract him. She wasn't ever fully convinced, but she'd let it go in the end.
Chase was sitting at the table by the conference room, eyes vacant and staring ahead into nothing. The case they had was long, gruesome, and utterly horrific in a way that was inhumane. But the worst part was the fact that they couldn't even save the patient in the end.
It was a teenager, a fifteen year old boy that had come in with a plethora of different symptoms. They had tried their best, worked countless hours and were constantly tired to the bone. Money and overtime didn't matter at all to them, all they wanted to do was to save the poor kid.
Instead they misdiagnosed him, and ended up killing him instead. The only family member there, the father, was solemn at the news. He didn't yell, didn't scream or cry. He just nodded his head and accepted it as the harsh truth.
His reaction hadn’t struck them as odd at the time, since everyone handled grief differently. But perhaps they should have paid more attention. As later they found out that the Dad had been purposely poisoning his son, and he had succeeded in killing him. They were too stupid, too naive to see what was going on.They had missed all the signs and completely misread the situation, which had cost the boy his life. The man they had been comforting was the one they should've been scrutinizing all along.
It was Dr. Cuddy who had found out, and had to regretfully inform them all one rainy Wednesday morning. Each of the reactions was different.
Cameron had run to the trashcan in order to throw up, tears streaming down her face as she emptied her stomach. Foreman ran to help her, eyes suspiciously wet, as he held her hair away from her face. House was silent, before violently knocking over the whiteboard with his cane as he stormed out into his office. And Chase-
Chase was sitting at the table by the conference room, eyes vacant and staring ahead into nothing, as though she hadn't said anything at all. He felt as empty as he looked, but deep down inside festered the guilt and regret. But most of all was the fear. The fear of what could have happened to him.
The case was too familiar for Chase's liking. A young boy, stuck with his father and not his mother as she had drunken herself to death. However, instead of the father leaving, he had stayed. But that turned out to be the worse of the two options, as the monster had killed his son as a result.
How could he have not realised it any sooner? Out of all of them here he should've been the first to question the situation. But he had chicken out at seeing the pair, and had assumed that their relationship was great. Why else would the father have stuck with his son that long?
It was his ignorance that killed the patient, and he's not sure if he can continue to live on with that mistake weighing heavily on him every day of his life. It wasn't fair. The kid, Micheal, should have lived, he was kind, smart and had a bright future ahead of himself. He was a million times better than Robert when he was that age. So then why is Robert still alive while Micheal isn't?
Their lives were so similar, the only difference was that Micheals Dad did what his Father couldn't. If anything, Chase was the one who's supposed to be six feet under. Why did he deserve to live while Micheal didn't? That's not how it should've gone. Michael's a good kid, he wasn't. Micheal was behaved, he wasn't. It didn't make sense to Chase. Good kids like Michael aren't the ones with the bad ending. He was supposed to have a wonderful life.
Chase was beaten, neglected and abused. He was a horrid kid, he got violent, was skeptical of everything and everyone.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!It wasn't fair!
IT WASN'T FAIR
“Chase?”
He looked at the sound of his name, and came face to face with House. His cold blue eyes practically pierced Chase’s soul with its intensity. By the look on his face Chase assumes that this wasn't the first time that he had been calling his name.
“Sorry what?” he practically whispered, unused to using his voice after such a long while. House seemed, concerned? A frown was adorning his face as he continued to stare at Chase. It was then that Chase realised that the man was crouched down on the floor as he looked up at him.
But why? That position must have hurt, and Chase was just not comprehending what the older man was doing. What his game was, what he really wanted out of this. Because when it came to House there was always an ulterior motive, always another reason why he’d suddenly act kind.He turned his head around to look for his coworkers, but they were both gone. It was also then he noticed how dark it had gotten outside, as the sky outside the window was a dark midnight blue.
It was House's voice that snapped him out of it again.
“Kid, I asked if you were okay.” He said, voice lower and softer than usual, softer for House that is. And wasn't that odd? The fact that House of all people was asking him if he was okay. It was plain ridiculous and nobody would have believed them if he told them. Maybe Cameron, since she always believed that there was good in people. Foreman would've outright laughed at him for even suggesting the idea of house being kind. Or House asking him if he was okay.
“Kid?”
Right, questions need answers. Of course they do, that's how questions work. God he’s tired. He opened his mouth, about to respond but hesitated. Was he truly okay? And what would count as being okay? Was House asking him because of the case or was he asking how he was in general?
Millions of questions like these swirled around in his head. All unanswerable and confusing. He wanted to tell him that he was fine, just tired. He wanted to tell him that there was nothing to worry about and that he would get out of his sight as soon as possible.
But he didn't manage to say any of that, instead what left him was a choked sob. A single, loud and mortifying sob that echoed throughout the whole room. He burrows his face in his hands, in order to muffle any more of the sobs, but the damage has already been done.
He had embarrassed himself in front of his boss. Breaking down like an absolute child after being asked if he was okay. And if Robert was honest with himself, he knows that he hasn't been okay for a while.
He felt someone, House, gently squeezing his knee. A small comfort, a gentle reminder that he was there for him. The gentlest someone had been to him in a long time. And that's all it took for him to give in. He removed his hands from his face, revealing the silent tears that had been running down his face and locked eyes with House. Instead of a harsh gaze or a scowl, he was met with a more mellow version of the older man, eyes gentle and prompting him to go on. So with a shaky voice he finally spoke.
“What's wrong with me?”
If House was surprised, then he hid it very well. The man was silent for a few moments, eyes assessing Chase, before speaking carefully as though in a whisper.
“What makes you think that there's something wrong?”
Chase almost scoffed at the question. He could list off a million things to show how messed up he was, how utterly broken and useless he is. But he decided to at least humour the man. He started to stare at the window as he spoke admiring the stars so that he doesn't have to see House's stupid grin when he turns around.
“I'm messed up. I flinch when people touch me, I can't handle small spaces, I hate having my back turned to people since I'm scared they'll do something. Worst of all I'm crying like a fucking child at being asked a simple question!” he said all in one breath, voice slightly gruff from all the crying.
“I'm just,” he made a vague motion with his hands, “different,” he said finally.
(He belatedly realised that during all of his shouting that he had stood up, pacing around the room without realizing it.)
When he was met with silence, Chase looked back at House and was shocked to see a frown on the man's face. Even weirder to see was the empathy in the man's eyes. It wasn't sympathy, since Chae knew what that looked like and he hated it. House actually cared about how he was feeling, and he empathised as well.
Either that or Chase had finally lost it and all of this was a weird hallucination.
But House only stared, seeming to mull something over, before shaking his head and as though he's made up his mind. He gently placed his cane on the table before taking careful steps towards Chase.
One
Two
Three steps later he was standing in front of Chase.
‘Oh God he's going to yell at me, or punch me. What was I thinking? Crying in front of my boss? Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!’
He saw House raise his arms and he involuntarily flinched, pressing his eyes shut and turning his head away, waiting for the blow to come. If he was in his right head he would've realised that House was in no way going to hurt him, but the long day had muddled up his mind and now all he could feel was fear.
He felt like a little kid again, awaiting pain after he had royally screwed up. Like breaking on of his mom's wine bottles, knocking over a glass at dinner, accidentally ripping one of his Dad's research papers, not-
Two warm arms wrapped around him, one coming around his shoulders, and the hand of the other arm was gently cupping his head. He stiffened at the contact, before hesitantly relaxing into it. He felt a single pat on his back, as well as a quick ruffle of his hair.
And that's all it took for the floodgates to reopen. It started with small tears that slid down his cheeks silently, which eventually became harsh broken sobs that shook throughout his whole body. He tried to stifle his sobs by pressing his hands over his mouth, but it was a fruitless endeavor.
He leaned further into House, head resting on his shoulder as he was openly sobbing into his bosses shoulder like a stupid, stupid, stupid-
“Not that I'm not all for you making fun of yourself, but I'm going to actually lobotomize you if you repeat that word one more time.” House said, voice low, without the usual snark accompanying his words.
God, had he spoken out loud? Like this wasn't embarrassing enough! He was basically being coddled by his boss since he couldn't get a handle on his own feelings like a normal person! He was surprised that House hadn't made fun of him, but instead comforted him.
In his own detached manner of course.
He wanted to push him away, to run back to his apartment and wanted to hide away forever. Hide from House, his coworkers and from the massive failure he had made at work. What he couldn't admit was he was also trying to hide from himself, his biggest failure. And it's embarrassing, sobbing childishly like this, his father would've yelled at him, telling him to “man up”. This case had affected him a lot, and a few tears were always expected, but he'd always avoid doing it in front of anyone.
He should be ashamed, and all he could think about on loop is that lately he's been crying like a tall child.
But even though he hates to admit it, being hugged by House is the safest he's felt in a while. He can't even remember the last time his own Father had hugged him. Probably when he had been a baby, or a toddler, but no other time besides that.
He had never felt safe with his father, he doesn't think that would ever change. But now he felt safe. Warm, comforted and cared for. House may not know why he's been acting all spaced out, which was quite out of character for him. But instead of ignoring it he made an effort to figure out why he had been upset, as ridiculous as that sounded.
Even when he had started bawling, which he'll never live down, that man didn't push him off or awkwardly try to get him to stop, but held him as he released all the pain and suffering that had been plagging his mind all this time.
He felt the arms tighten around him, pushing his head further into House's shoulder, as a hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. The action made his heart swell with warmth, and apparently confidence. He unfurled his hands from where they were tightly held near his chest and carefully brought them around House's torso as he loosely returned the hug.
A small part of him was worried that this action would be the final straw for House, a step too far. But those doubts disappeared the second he heard a tiny huff of amusement from House and felt his hair being ruffled again. A small smile adorned his face, small but genuine. He hugged the man tighter, squishing his cheek onto his shoulder.
This resulted in the older man stumbling slightly at the sudden strength of the hug, giving a slight chuckle over his fellow's joy over the simple action of a hug of all things. But Chase felt the way the man tightened his own hold on Chase, returning the hug with just as much enthusiasm.
“I'll say this hug was probably better than the last one you gave me. At least now I'm not fake dying of cancer.”
The simple comment managed to get a single small, but real, chuckle out of Chase. Even when the man gave the best hugs, he was still somewhat bad at basic human interactions. He had never had a problem with it though, he always thought that the man was funny. Something both his coworkers heavily disagreed on. They thought the man was some kind of psycho. He wondered what they would have thought if they had seen House hugging Chase.
Foreman would've probably short-circuited.
He noticed that his tears had finally stopped, all that remained was his puffy eyes and snotty nose. However, he doesn't think he's ever felt better.
After what felt like a while, he began to step out of the hug, letting go of House. As the man stepped out of the embrace, he took a look at Chase, seeming to take a once over on the younger doctor.
Chase, too busy wiping his tears using his sleeve, didn't notice House grabbing his cane and limping away to retrieve something.
What he did notice was House coming out of nowhere to suddenly clean up his face using wipes he got from God knows where. He made an indignant sound at the action, but immediately quieted down and the second House shushed him.
The man was quick, but surprisingly gentle, as wiped the tears and snot off his face. He had a hand holding the back of his head as he continued the process, Chase patiently waiting for him to finish. He doesn’t think that anyone had ever been so gentle with him before. His mother might’ve done something like this, if she wasn’t busy choking on her own vomit. He almost laughed at the thought of what his father would’ve done if he’d seen him like this. Definitely not comfort him that’s for sure.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Chase asked, genuinely confused over what he could’ve done.
“Your sad thoughts are quite loud you know, not to mention those sad puppy dog eyes. You could rival Rory Gilmore with those.”
Chase scoffed disbelievingly at House’s remark. Sometimes he wondered if the man could read minds, he wouldn’t have put it past him to be honest. House stopped wiping, took a step back, and seemed to approve of his work. He then limped away to throw away the tissues and came back to grab his and Robert’s own bag? At his look of confusion House merely scoffed at him, rolling his eyes as he threw his own bag over his shoulder.
"I'm sure as hell not letting you go back to your empty apartment in the state you're in, I need you in tip-top shape for work tomorrow. You’ll room with me and Wilson, I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Chase decided not to respond to anything, afraid that he’ll break whatever fragile and gentle atmosphere that had been formed. So instead he just gave House a small look, before retrieving his jacket and following the man out to his car. On their way they said nothing to each other, both content with the comfortable silence between them. When they reached the car, House threw all their belongings to the back seat before taking the driver's seat. Chase quickly sat down in the passenger's seat, silently looking around the car. It’s his first time sitting in his boss's car, and it was a feeling similar to getting a ride with your teacher.
All in all it was a pretty odd experience.
The drive was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. Which was weird considering he was in a car with House of all people. Again, a very odd experience. He rested his head against the window, staring at all the passing trees and buildings. He saw a few people walking around here and there, and tried to come up with stories for each of them. It was something to pass the time, but his musings were interrupted when House spoke. He still turned around to face him, however, as the man was impossible to ignore.
“You know for what it's worth,” he said, making sure that Chase was focused on him before continuing.
“I know what it’s like to feel,” he made a vague motion with his right hand, “different.” He said.
Chase just stared at House, silent and observing, as he listened to House continue to speak.
“We all are, our team especially.” He turned around to face Chase quickly when he said his last sentence.
“There’s something kind of fantastic about that isn’t there? We all know normal’s overrated anyways.” He finished, returning his eyes to the road, and letting the sentence hang in the air. Chase merely stared at him, but instead of the dull eyes that were staring into nothing while sat in the office, these eyes shone with hope and gratitude. Maybe it’s just because he’s extra emotional tonight, and can’t think straight, but for the first time in a while he felt understood. He felt as though something had finally cleared up. He still feels horrible and tired but for the first time in a while he feels… lighter.
He gave a small tentative smile, before leaning his head back against the door window, a slight shiver wracking his body. The rest of the ride they spent in silence, not suffocating silence but light and comfortable. He felt safe again, just like during that hug. Again the thought of House of all people making him feel safe was almost crazy, but he’s come to realize that he doesn’t care anymore.
They arrived at the complex quickly after that, climbing out of the car and making their way to House and Wilson’s shared apartment floor. Again, the same odd feeling from before came back, as Chase looked around the place. Surprisingly the place looked very cozy, with comfortable looking couches and throw blankets all over the place. They even had cute little lamps! If it was weird being in his Boss’s car, it was even weirder to be in his living space.
“He lives! And here I thought I’m going to be paying- oh.”
Wilson had come out of one of the bedrooms from the hallway on the left, in soft linen pajamas and his usual frown adorning his face. But instead of it being directed at House, it was directed at Chase. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable and definitely out of place. Awkwardly he began to wring his hands together, looking anywhere but at Wilson. Thankfully House took care of the talking part.
“Wombat’s feeling a bit under the weather so I thought that, like the kind kind man that I am, I’d take care of him.”
Chase had to stop himself from snorting outright at Wilson’s deadpan look. House merely rolled his eyes, before marching away to the hallway where Wilson had walked out from. Which left Chase awkwardly with Wilson. He had nothing against the guy of course, it’s just that he never really spoke to him one on one. Wilson huffed, probably used to but not any less confused by House’s antics, placing his hands on his hips.
Sometimes they reminded Chase of an old married couple, always arguing with each other, but always caring for one another either way. They’ve known each other long enough to practically know the other person more than themselves. Like yin and yang, except if yin and yang were two people that committed felonies on the regular.
Finally Wilson seemed to remember that they had a guest.
“Do you want some tea? Maybe something to eat?” He asked gently, a small and welcoming smile adorning his face.
“Uh, no it’s fine I don’t need anything. Thanks,” he said, smiling a bit crookedly and awkwardly.
Again, Wilson only smiled at him which made him feel a bit less out of place. Surprisingly both House and Wilson were quite good hosts, leading him to a guest room, giving him some pajamas to wear. Pajamas, which he is pretty sure belong to House since they absolutely swallowed him whole. It was quite embarrassing in all honesty, the fact made even worse by the way House started to make loud cooing noises the second he laid eyes on him. Wilson only stood aside, not engaging in any cooing, but chuckling softly all the same.
Chase is definitely classing this as his number one strangest experience.
When he had finally gotten under the covers, he got to use their guest room, House had entered his room. The man was also wearing his own pajamas, cane still clutched in his hand as he limped towards his bed.
“Got everything you need Wombat?”
Chase only nodded mutely, feeling his eyelids get heavier as the seconds ticked by. House nodded back, seemingly accepting of the answer, and seemed to hesitate before he left the room.
“You’re different, but there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, it makes you better. I didn’t hire you because you were like the rest, but because you’re different.”
Chase stared back at him, slightly surprised that House continued to reassure him. And before he could stop himself, he began to speak. He’d probably be mortified about all of it in the morning, but that would be a problem for future Chase.
“Why are you being so kind to me?” He asked. It was a question that had been plagging his mind the second that House had asked him how he was when they were in the office together. The man always had something to gain, or some sort of ulterior move. So him being kind out of the blue like this confused him. He’s not sure if he’s worried or confused, but he knows for sure that he’s curious.
House moved and sat on the bed, placing his cane beside him as he seemed to mull over an answer. As the seconds ticked by, Chase got cozier and more tired the longer he sat snuggled in the bed, eyelids feeling impossibly heavy now. But he forced himself to stay awake, just so he could hear House’s reply.
“Because,” he started, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I’m the only one that can.”
Chase was speechless, either that or he was seconds from slumber. He just nodded as reply, giving House a small, but genuine smile in return. And it may be a trick of the light, but he’s pretty sure he saw House smile back at him. When he was halfway to sleep, he felt something gently card through his hair, before it came to rest his shoulder for a second.
House stood up and limped back towards the doorway, throwing a long look at his slumbering duckling. He vowed then and there that if Rowan Chase took one step into their Hospital that he would be a dead man. Since it didn’t take an idiot to realise the damage he had caused. He was gently closing the door behind him as he left, not before hearing Chase’s last reply.
“Thank you.”