Title:Shades of Purple
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: So not mine
Archive:Anywhere
Summary. House figures maybe Chase is now wondering how they can work together after what happened.

SHADES OF PURPLE

It took House nearly half an hour to track Chase down.

He wasn't all that surprised when the Intensivist didn't show up in Diagnostics this morning. In truth, he was rather surprised he had shown up for work at all, but House had made a call to the front desk and Nancy Nosy pants had seen the Aussie come in at his regular time. So all that was left for House to do was to track him down.

For some reason the clinic was the last place he had expected to find Chase. But the blond was there, in room six, listening to a patient's heart. House watched from the doorway, waiting for Chase to take the ear pieces of the stethoscope out before declaring, "We need to talk."

"No, we don't." Chase replied in a firm tone. He smiled at the patient then told him he was suffering from a cold and wrote down what over the counter drugs to buy before sending him on his way. He then stood up, signed off on the file, then made to breeze past House.

House cut him off with his cane, nudging Chase back so he could step inside and close the door. "We're going to talk," he stated, his eyes searching out the bruise on the younger man's jaw. It was mottled in pretty shades of purple. No surprise really that Chase would even bruise prettily.

Chase had backed away a few steps, folding his arms over his chest and eyeing House with anger shimmering in his eyes. "I don't want to talk to you. I want to go back to work."

"You work for me," House was quick to counter. "Remember?"

"I remember." Chase's voice had softened to almost a whisper. He dropped his arms then paced away until he had the exam table between them.

House let him have his space. For now. "Look, I'll make this quick and relatively painless. I shouldn't have hit you. Okay?"

A bitter laugh filled the room. "No, House. It's not okay." Anger was now blazing in Chase's eyes.

"What do you want me to say?" House shot back, feeling his own anger rising. Anger he knew he had no right too. But he felt guilty and he hated that feeling. But what he hated more was the fact it was Chase that made him feel this way. He wasn't supposed to give a damn about him.

"I don't want you to say anything." Chase stepped around the exam table, moving to confront House. "It would only be a lie." With that he drifted past his boss and out the door.

House let him go. He figured Chase had earned the right to walk away.

OoO

Later in the day, House watched Cameron attempt to apologize to Chase. He watched her hover over the Aussie and he saw the sincerity that was etched on her face. But Chase wasn't interested in apologies from her either, although House rather thought maybe it was the sympathy she was giving off in waves that irritated the Aussie the most. It was sympathy that was tinged with a bit of pity and it was strong enough to make House feel vaguely irked at Cameron on Chase's behalf.

From his chair in his office, House watched Chase walk away from Cameron. He watched Cameron move to stand in his doorway and scowl at him. "What?" he challenged her.

"Nothing," Cameron replied, turning away with a shake of her head.

House watched her leave and told himself it didn't matter if they all walked away. Only he knew that was a lie. It mattered. Pushing out of his chair, he went in search of Chase again. Maybe if he apologized he would stop feeling so angry and jittery. Because this anger and anxiety had nothing to do with the pain he was in, and that scared the hell out of House more than anything else could. Pain could be controlled and managed, but he had learned the hard way that feelings were uncontrollable things. He wanted his control back.

Finding Chase was more difficult this time. The kid hid himself in plain sight.

Stepping into the chapel, House closed the door behind him. He limped over to the front row pews and took the inside seat on the left. Chase was sitting directly across from him on the right. "Come here often?" House felt the need to shatter the suffocating silence that lay between them.

"What do you want?" Chase sounded more resigned than angry.

"To do what I have to do to make it possible for us to work together again," House replied. He figured if he wasn't broad spectrum about this, then maybe Chase would simply tell him that things were fine and they could go back to the way things had been. That would suffice as far as House was concerned.

Chase turned his head to look at House then, an almost smile curving his soft mouth. "Deja Vu," he whispered.

House frowned at that. What the hell was the kid talking about? He racked his brain but he wasn't sure what Chase was making reference too. Nor was he all that sure he really wanted to know.

But Chase seemed compelled to explain. "After the Vogler thing, you asked me how you could work with me."

"Ahh." House got it now.

"You did everything you could to make my life as miserable as possible," Chase continued.

House nodded. "And you put up with it."

Rising from the pew, Chase walked towards the exit. He stopped by the door, looking uncertain.

"Do you have a point, or are you just trying to annoy me?" House asked, pushing to his own feet. He limped heavily to where Chase was standing, wishing he could conjure up a bottle of Vicodin. The amounts Cuddy was doling out to him weren't enough.

"Why didn't you fire me?" Chase lobbed the question at him without warning.

House took a moment to consider his answer. He wondered if Chase really wanted the truth or if a lie would maybe get him off the hook. He settled for mostly the truth. "I didn't fire you because you did what you had to do to keep your job."

The answer didn't seem to surprise Chase, instead he nodded and turned as if to go, but he froze then asked, "Do you think I'm a good doctor?"

"Does it matter what I think?" House fired back. He wanted to make amends for the punch. Chase deserved that much. In truth he deserved more than that. He deserved House's respect for making the right diagnoses and saving that little girl. And he had that respect. But House couldn't find the words to say what should be said. Because they still wouldn't be the words Chase wanted to hear, and they wouldn't be coming from the right person. House knew what Chase wanted. Validation for who he was and what he had done. House understood that. He had wanted that very same thing from his own father. Not having it had made him a stronger person, and that was something he could do for Chase. Make him stronger.

Watching Chase for a reaction, House wondered for a moment if the kid was breathing. He was so still and had gone a few shades paler so that his bruise stood out like a ink stain on white paper.

After a moment Chase shuddered and exhaled slowly. Color came seeping back to his cheeks and he locked eyes with House just long enough to reply. "Good question." Turning sharply, he reached for the door and yanked it open, then he was striding away.

House moved to the doorway and watched him go before heading for the elevator. Once inside he leaned against the wall and dipped into his inside jacket pocket. He pulled out his last Vicodin for the day and swallowed it down. Closing his eyes as he willed the drug to quickly take effect, to take the edge off the pain, House couldn't help but wonder when everything had changed.

THE END