Getting to Know You
Taking advantage of the Thanksgiving holiday-and incredibly thankful to have managed to get a few days off- Chase and Cameron traveled to Chicago to spend the holiday with Cameron's entire immediate family, brothers and sisters included. Cameron of course, was thrilled; she was able to see her family-she rarely had time to visit because of the busy schedule-and she would finally get to introduce them to Chase. Their plane landed at O'Hare with a jolting thump, and while Cameron might have been a ball of excitement, Chase was a ball of nerves.
"You okay?" asked Cameron as Chase gallantly pulled both of their carry-ons from the overhead compartment.
Either so focused on his task or on his thoughts, he didn't answer.
"Robert?" Cameron asked.
Chase jumped a little at the use of his first name, pulling the bags down carefully. It was funny still, to hear his first name. Ever since he'd come to the States he'd always been Chase, even to his friends outside the hospital. He and Cameron still called each other by their surnames about half the time, having been so used to it, but he noticed that whenever she was serious or worried, she always called him Robert. He both loved and hated the use of his formal name. His father had always called him Robert. Never Robbie, like his mother or grandmother, or Rob like his best mates from Australia. Always Robert, and always in that somber sort of tone. But like he loved and hated the use of his name, he supposed he both loved and hated his father. But he dearly loved calling Cameron Allison. It was an intimacy she shared with almost no one in the new life she'd created at PPTH, and he felt privileged.
"Sorry," he said, walking behind her as they exited the plane, her newly blonde hair a golden waterfall before him. "I'm fine. Just a little distracted."
"They'll love you," said Cameron, knowing what he really meant. Despite himself, his incredibly expressive blue-green eyes always gave him away. "But it's okay to be nervous. I'd be…" she stopped her words, realizing what she was about to say as they stopped in front of their baggage claim station.
"Nervous to meet my parents if they were still here?" he said evenly. "Well, you met my dad. I'd say that was a pretty good snapshot of him. Too bad I didn't have any siblings though, I envy you."
Cameron smiled, thinking of her older brother Peter, and her younger sister Christine.
Chase grabbed their bags and they went to hail a taxi to Cameron's family home.
"But you wanted me to meet your three best friends from Australia, right? Ben, Andrew, and Roger? You said they were coming in a few weeks to visit you."
"Yeah," answered Chase, eyes lighting up again. "They're excited to meet you. I sent them a picture of us, the one from the trip we took to the shore over the summer? None of them could guess how I ended up with someone as beautiful as you," he said, a grin overtaking his features.
"I can think of a few reasons," she said, bumping him gently with her hip. "And it'll be my turn to be nervous then."
He laughed, the sunlight catching his golden hair as they stepped outside. "I really am looking forward to meeting your family," he said, regaining the quiet confidence Cameron knew so well. "I just hope they like me."
As it turned out, they loved him. Cameron and Chase had arrived to a chorus of greeting, with hugs all around. Seeing the surprised look on Chase's face, his eyes widening at the affection, was priceless. There would be more family coming for Thanksgiving tomorrow, but for now it was just the immediate family.
"Allie," her father said after dinner. "Peter and I are going to take Robert to look at the new hot rod we've been working on in the garage. Do you mind?"
Cameron shook her head, laughing. "Go ahead, he's all yours."
Chase, an amateur car aficionado, looked pleased by this prospect, but also slightly afraid of being left alone with both Cameron's father and older brother. He shook his head slightly and followed them, willing himself to just relax and have fun. He really liked Cameron's family so far, and they had given him such a warm welcome.
Cameron was left alone in the living room with her mother and sister, each sipping a glass of red wine.
"God, Allie," piped up Christine, 25 now and working as a criminal lawyer. "Could you have picked a better looking man? And the accent…oh my gosh. You'd better watch out, or I'll steal him from you," she said with a teasing wink.
"He is a beautiful man," commented her mother, Elizabeth. "Smart too, obviously. I don't think I could do his job, dealing with intensive care like that all the time. It takes a certain sort of person. There's something about him, though…" she paused, looking up at her daughter. "Did you say both his parents were deceased, Allie?"
Cameron chuckled. Her mother, never quite able to step out of her psychologist shoes.
"Don't psychoanalyze him, Mom. It's a little early for that. But yeah, his mom died, over ten years ago, and his dad died just a couple of years ago from lung cancer. He never even told Robert about it."
"Seriously?" questioned Christine, raising her eyebrows. "Wow. What a jerk. They must not have had a great relationship."
"From what I could tell when his dad came to visit the hospital a few years ago, they didn't," answered Cameron, remembering the seeming sudden changes in Chase's personality when Rowan Chase had appeared on the scene. House, it seemed, was the only one who knew quite why. "He's pretty silent on the subject."
"He doesn't talk about it?" asked Elizabeth. "That can't be good for him."
"I tried to ask him when his father was in Jersey, but he didn't respond very well," answered Cameron. "I'm afraid to push him."
"That was years ago though, and you weren't dating him," her mother answered. "And from what I can tell he doesn't want to burden you. Maybe you should try asking him. It was odd…he seemed almost shocked by our warm greetings, our banter. Like he wasn't sure what to make of it. I think he might not ever say anything unless you ask first."
"Maybe," Cameron said hesitantly, but knowing her mother was probably right. "He tends to keep his real thoughts on that subject buried pretty well beneath the surface."
"Birds of a feather," said Christine, rolling her eyes at her sister.
"Hey!" exclaimed Cameron, slapping her sister playfully on the arm.
"Oh you two," chuckled Elizabeth. "So you're liking the ER? And Robert is liking surgery?"
"I do like it. And I've gotten the chance to be involved in some committees and things at the hospital, which is new and different," said Cameron, her eyes darting toward the fire, which was crackling beside them. She smiled, thinking of the turn her life had taken lately. "And Robert really likes surgery. He's getting a ton of surgical experience under his belt."
"And Dr. House?" questioned Elizabeth. "I know you'd said there was some tension between the two of them."
Cameron nodded. "I think that's mostly solved itself. House has practically made Chase his personal surgeon for all his patients, which coming from House, is as big a compliment as possible. He didn't fire Chase because he wasn't a good doctor; he fired Chase because he knew it was time for him to "leave the nest" so to speak. I think Chase gets that now. The two of them have a kind of weird father-son relationship. Not that either of them would admit it, of course."
"Men," responded Christine, laughing as the three women caught up on their lives, what to buy various people for Christmas, and pondering just what the men were talking about in the garage. Cameron, meanwhile, couldn't stop thinking upon her mother's words.
Chase sat under the covers of the bed in Cameron's old bedroom, looking around curiously, his finished crossword sitting on the nightstand. Cameron changed into her nightgown, looking over at him.
"What?" she asked.
"I was just thinking about you growing up in here. I adore the red rosebud wallpaper, by the way," he said, shooting a cheeky grin her way. It was that grin that nearly had the power to transform her into a puddle on the floor. She sat down on the bed and Chase opened his arms up to her, her head resting on her chest.
"You're hilarious. What did you have, rocket ships? Superheroes?"
"No," he laughed. "I just had blue walls. I don't think my mom liked wall paper."
Cameron snuggled closer to him, feeling safer than she had ever remembered. Even with Mike, she hadn't felt this safe, his death always looming on her mind. Ever since she had taken this leap into a relationship, when she hadn't really had one since Mike had died, she'd felt safer than she could have possibly imagined she would. Chase had led her along the pathway of their romance with the utmost gentleness since she had shown up at his door that night, and she couldn't be thankful enough that he had been so persistent after she'd ended their casual relationship when he'd wanted more; otherwise she might not have been brave enough to take the leap at all. What worried her was that despite the fact that he had been to initiate the interest in a more serious relationship, had been the one that was patient with her fears, he seemed to be the one who didn't feel safe.
"Chase?" asked Cameron suddenly, breaking the silence.
"Hmmm?" he answered.
"Tell me about your parents."
"What?" he questioned, pulling back slightly to look at her.
"Tell me about them. And not the short version. The truthful one. I want to know what happened to your mom, and why you had the relationship you did with your dad." She looked him straight in the eye, gaze unwavering. It was the look she often used when trying to make House listen to her, and if it had been a different situation, Chase would have laughed.
"Allison, I…" he started.
"House knows more about your family than I do. That isn't fair."
"You know me better than anyone," argued Chase. "And House manages to learn everyone's personal information."
"You volunteered it to him when he asked," Cameron responded. "I love you…and I want to know the most secret parts of your soul. I know…" she felt tears well up in her eyes despite herself. "I know it hurts you to talk about it, but you can trust me with it. I promise."
"It's not that I don't trust you," argued Chase, letting go of her and turning to sit up, his head resting in his hands, eyes fervently looking away from her.
"I took a leap of faith that I'd never thought I'd take to be with you," said Cameron. "I told you everything about Mike, about everything that happened after. Please, Robert, talk to me."
He sighed, turning back around, his eyebrows furrowed, fearing his heart would come bursting through his chest, hands shaking. Pent up emotion he realized with a slight bitterness, did not do wonders for anyone. Cameron kept her eyes fixed on him, waiting to see what he would do.
"He didn't beat me," Chase began, remembering Cameron's question from several years ago. "But he did leave us when I was 15. Their marriage had been falling apart for a while. My father was a workaholic, as you could tell, and as the marriage crumbled, so did she. And crawled right into a bottle of gin."
Cameron took her hand carefully in his, intertwining their fingers. He didn't take it away, but he still seemed unable to look her.
"I remember the day he left," Chase continued. "It was ugly."
"Dad!" Chase shouted, following his father down the hall, where he was going to pack more things into suitcases. "You can't just leave us like this!"
"I don't believe it is the child's place to tell the parent what to do, Robert," answered Rowan in an infuriatingly calm tone as he folded shirts and placed them in a suitcase. "I won't be far. Only fifteen minutes. The finances will all be taken care of. Your life won't change that much."
"Because you're never here as it is," Chase shot back. "How can you just leave mum like this? She's sick, Dad. She needs your help!"
"She's an alcoholic," sneered Rowan. "She can't even help herself."
"You don't even give a shit, do you?" yelled Chase, taking one of his father's suitcases and flinging it across the room.
Rowan seized his son's wrist, and took his chin roughly in his hand, forcing the teenager to look him in the eye.
"Watch your language!" he said, voice rising steadily. "You will show me respect! Do you hear me?"
Robert wrenched himself out his father's grip. "Don't touch me," he said, voice an icy hiss. "How am I supposed to take care of her with you gone?"
"I told you," answered his father, as though they were discussing the weather. "That I could send you to boarding school."
"Because you don't want me," Robert said, voice barely above a whisper now. But he refused to cry in front of his father. "You never did."
"That is not true, and you know it," said Rowan, his tone a smidge kinder. "There's an excellent school in Sydney that would prepare you for medical school."
"What, so I can grow up to be bastard like you?" asked Robert, not breaking his father's gaze. "I don't want to be your perfect little protégé."
"Watch. Your. Mouth!" yelled Rowan, glaring at his son. "It would be much more beneficial for you to go to school there instead of trying to take care of a lost cause. It would be shame to watch an extremely bright boy go to waste trying to play hero. Especially when he's my son."
"I won't leave her here to die. She's my mother. I'm not like you. I don't just give up on my family."
"If you want to be stubborn, I won't stop you. I'll keep the option open," said Rowan, shutting the final suitcase, before walking toward the door. "When you come to your senses. Assuming your mother hasn't drained all the sense from your head."
In one last desperate attempt, Robert grabbed at his father's sweater.
"Dad! Please!" the monster of pain in chest wanted to break down and sob, but he fought it back.
He was interrupted by a soft whisper at the doorway.
"It's okay Robbie," said Isabelle Chase, coming face to face with her son and husband. "He's going to leave no matter what you say." Even with purple bags under her eyes, she still looked beautiful, her long blonde hair, so like her son's, hanging halfway down her back.
Chase edged past his father to stand beside his mother. Two stood across from one like an old Western showdown. Robert took his mother's hand in his, protecting her. Rowan stared at them with his cold grey eyes, surveying them as if they were the paperwork for his newest medical trial.
"I'll be in touch," was all he said before walking out the door. Robert ran to the window and watched his father drive away. His mother walked silently past him, standing up her tiptoes to kiss the top of her son's head, before heading down the stairs. A few minutes later, Robert heard breaking glass, and went to the top of the stairs to see what the racket was. His mother sat on the couch, one gin and tonic in hand, watching the remnants of alcohol in the bottle drip down the wall and onto the broken shards of glass.
Chase looked up from the spot he'd picked to stare at on the bed sheets, and chanced a look up at Cameron, whose eyes were flooded with tears. He smiled at her, wiping a falling tear away with his thumb.
"She died a couple of years after that, when I was 17, almost 18, the summer before University. Her liver just couldn't take it anymore. A lot happened in between though, if you still want to know."
Cameron nodded, burying her head in his chest for a moment before settling herself. It unnerved her that he hadn't yet reacted to finally telling her these stories; the emotion was in his eyes, but he hadn't let it out. She could only hope he would before the night was over, or she was afraid he would explode.
Pull yourself together Allison, she said to herself. Be strong for him. Because sometimes, she could tell, he grew weary of always being strong.
AN: Hi all! This is certainly not my first venture into the fanfiction world, but it is my first House fic, so I'm hoping you like it. I'm thinking it will take about 3 chapters to cover this, so I'll call it a three-shot. I'm a huge fan of the Cameron/Chase relationship, and of the father-son relationship between House and Chase, so there will be focus on that, obviously. Thanks for reading!