Legacies
Summary: Both House and Chase must find ways to cope with the legacies their fathers left them.
Author's Note: I've never written a story in this manner before, but I wanted to try it. Sometimes it's clear to see whose POV it is, sometimes it's not. Sometimes the snippet works for both House and Chase, depending on how you look at it.
"You failed."
The words sting more than a thousand needles. It hurts more because he knows it's true. He has always failed everyone he's ever cared about. His father, his mother, the few friends he's ever had.
He's never measured up. He never will.
That night, once again, he cries out to the only person he feels who's ever been there for him.
He gives his father a hug. It is returned, but stiff and formal. The flight is leaving soon, and his father is more preoccupied with not missing it than with looking his son in the eye. It doesn't surprise him a bit.
"Take care of your mother." It is not a wish or a request. It is a command. It always is.
"I will." He replies. He is eager to please his father just once. This time, he thinks to himself, it will be different. This time, he will finally measure up. His father will be proud of him.
In his heart, he knows he will never be perfect enough for his father to be proud.
He walks in the door, and notices the empty bottle on the table. It is the third day in a row, and he is hurt and confused. He doesn't know what has happened.
He checks the bedroom. Sure enough, she is passed on out the bed. He shakes his head in disgust. At her, and at himself. Once again, he has failed.
It's a poison. He knows he has to get out. But he can't leave her by herself.
So he prisons himself in that house with his alcoholic mother and all his guilt.
He's brilliant. Smart. Everyone knows it. Everyone says it. Among the other things they say about him. How he's just a touch off. How he puts distance between others and himself.
So he puts more distance in between him and them. Now their words won't hurt. And he'll distant himself from the one person who's opinion he's every actually cared about.
He did fail his father. But now he doesn't care.
Or at least that's what he tells himself.
The chapel is a refugee. He goes there daily after his lessons, after all the other students have left. All the well-adjusted young men are in bed, sleeping with peaceful minds.
His is never at peace, even after all these years.
The voice in his head that sounds like his father tells him it's his fault. His fault that his father walked out. His fault that his mother died. His fault that he's a pathetic excuse for a seminary student. That voices tells him he can never be a priest- look at all the blood on his hands. His parent's marriage. His mother. His own screwed up life.
He cries openly, but no one hears.
He went to med school. He's a top diagnostician. And still he's a disappointment to his father. Still.
He was ready to forgive. The grudges he held for all the negligence, the impossible demands, he was ready to let go of them all.
And then he learns his father still considers him a failure.
He knows it can't go on like this any longer. It's over. He's not looking back.
He became everything his father wanted. He went to med school on his father's money, and per their agreement, took a job with a renown diagnostician. He left the seminary just for his father.
He would never tell his father, but he desperately craves his father's approval. He wants to make his father proud, at least one time. It's never happened before.
And as his father slowly climbs into the taxi, he realizes it never will.
The phone calls leaves him numb. He suddenly realizes he never wanted this to happen. He finally realizes that he spent so long running from something he couldn't run from. His father had passed down a legacy.
He sits in stunned silence, wondering what will happen next.
And then he realizes it's up to him.