Before I get started, I feel the need to warn you that there will be a few Original Characters in this story. I will try to keep them to a minimum, and they shouldn't take over the story, so please let me know if they get too heavy. Also, this is hopefully a kind of different look for Chase's childhood and growing years. Thanks. BTW, I don't own anyone you recognize.

- - - - -

"Robbie! Look, it finally came!" A small blonde girl jumped up and down, wrapping her small arms around her eldest brother while waiting for Robbie. The boy ran in, his blue-green eyes sparkling as excitedly as his sister's hazel. Both children tore into the wrapping of a package that had just arrived in the mail. Inside were two nearly identical bags. Inside each bag was everything a child would need for a camping trip, sans sleeping bag and tent. Both children squealed happily, then winced as a loud moan was heard from upstairs.

The older boy motioned for the children, six-year-old fraternal twins, to gather their bags and follow him outside. The eighteen-year-old set the camping equipment up in the backyard and entertained his siblings while they waited for their mother to either take some Advil or drink away her current hangover. Their father was busy at some medical conference in Paris, leaving him to play mother and father to his young siblings. The twins loved it, though. He looked at them instead of through them like Daddy did, and he played with them and made sure they ate unlike Mummy.

"Do you think Daddy will remember his promise this time?" Robbie asked, startling his brother out of his thoughts. The teen hadn't realized that the twins were old enough to remember disappointments already. Most children were able to shrug things off for longer than six years, weren't they?

"I don't know, Robbie. If he doesn't, though, we'll just have to have more fun to make up for it."

"Really?" the little girl asked. "You don't think he'll be mad at us for having fun without him, do you?"

"Is Grandad ever mad at us for having fun without him?"

"No…"

"Then Dad shouldn't either. Don't worry; I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Dylan."

- - - -

Robert Chase woke with a gasp. He looked up to see Foreman and Cameron staring at him oddly. He was just thankful that House was busy in the Clinic. As if sleeping on the job wasn't bad enough, he had to actually make noise upon waking. He ran a hand through his hair and pushed himself upright. None of House's three fellows said a word as the blond left the room.

He had managed to force all thoughts of his siblings from his mind for nearly five years. His father's trip must have stirred up more than he had thought. His fist clenched and unclenched when he thought of the last time his family had been together. It was nearly fifteen years earlier that Rowan Chase had destroyed his family, and all of Robbie's childhood dreams.

Chase entered the restroom and leaned against the sink. He stared hard into his own blue-green eyes, searching for his own memories of a girl who shared his face and hair. She had her own eyes, a brilliant golden-green color that sparkled merrily when she laughed, her head thrown back and waves of golden-blonde hair cascading down her back. All he could see, though, was the flat brown color that stared at him at their last meeting, when the only sparkle to be found on her face was the tear that slid down her cheek.

- - - -

"If you plan to waste your life like that, then you can get out of my house!" Rowan yelled. His teenage daughter stared up at him defiantly. Her chin rose stubbornly, and her eyes snapped in anger.

"So that's your plan?" she demanded of a man she considered family by DNA only. "You don't like something so you get rid of it? I can see where you would get the idea, though. I mean, heaven knows it's worked before! Unhappy with your wife? Walk out on her and leave her fifteen-year-old children to take care of her. Don't like your eldest's choice of mate? Cut him out of the will and disown him. Don't like your only daughter's career choice? Kick her to the curb. It's worked beautifully in the past; why shouldn't it work now?"

"Enough!" he roared. "You will not speak to me in that tone of voice, young lady!"

"Why shouldn't I? You're kicking me out, remember?"

"I'm still your father and you will respect me!"

"Respect has to be earned, Daddy Dearest. You've got the respect of nearly every medical professional on the planet, but you never cared enough to even try with your family."

"I'm your father! That respect is to be shown no matter what!"

"That's not respect! That's dictatorship! You're no better than a Nazi," she sneered. A resounding CRACK! surprised all three of them. Rowan looked at his stinging hand to his daughter, who was curled up on the floor, holding her cheek. Robbie looked on in fear and shock. Unlike his siblings, he had never really developed the backbone for standing up to people in direct authority over him. Part of him wanted to run to his sister, but a fear of his father held him back. The man was large and intimidating, but until now he had never raised a hand to his children. Neither Robbie nor his twin knew what to do with this new version of the man.

Before either male could react, the girl rushed from the room. Rowan turned a disgusted look onto Robbie; then stalked into his office, pulling his door closed behind him. Robbie stood in the hallway, trembling violently and desperately trying to think of something that would save what was left of his family. His sister walked back into the room, a full duffel bag slung over her shoulder, and a plane ticket in her hand.

"I'm so sorry, Robbie. I just can't stay here anymore. I have just enough to get you a plane ticket of your own if you want it, but we'd be on our own from that point." She raised a hand and brushed a tear off her twin's cheek. Robbie choked on a sob.

"But someone has to take care of Mum," he whimpered. She nodded, and he watched in silence as a tear slid down her tanned cheek. Her normally shining hazel eyes were a flat brown, all of their usual spark was hidden by the pain.

"Can you do that, Robbie? I know you're loyal enough, but I'm worried about you. It still hurts you too much to see her drunk, and you've never handled her drunken rages well."

"I'll be okay. Go out and live. Enjoy everything life has for you, and please keep in touch!" She nodded, hugged him, and walked out the door. Two months later, Tamara Chase died of alcohol poisoning, and Rowan moved his remaining son to Sydney, where the teen started Seminary School. He was unable to leave a forwarding address for his twin.

- - - -

James Wilson walked into the bathroom, halting when he saw Chase glaring at his own reflection. Cameron had mentioned something about a bad dream, but Chase's reaction was worrisome. Wilson walked over to the young blond and placed an arm on his shoulder. Wilson looked into the mirror and was shocked to see tears in the young man's eyes. Chase quickly looked away. When he raised his head again the tears were gone and he appeared to be under control again.

"Are you okay?" Wilson asked. Chase nodded.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Cameron mentioned that you had a bad dream or something."

"Just a bad memory. My father's visit must have stirred things up. I just needed to get control of myself."

Wilson stared hard into his eyes, as if judging his sincerity. Finally he nodded and squeezed Chase's shoulder gently. "If you ever need to talk about it, you know where to find me." Chase nodded again and moved to shrug off Wilson's hand. "Chase," Wilson spoke softly, "if you ever need to talk and I'm not immediately available, House and Cuddy both have my cell and home numbers." Chase nodded a third time and pulled away.

Chase was pushing open the door when he turned back to look at Wilson again. "Please don't talk to House about this? He's got enough ammunition against me as it is right now."

"I won't."

"Thank you."