Disclaimer: Don't own.
A/N: Okay, a really depressing glance at Chase's childhood. I just want to send out a special thanks to BookwormKiwi: Thanks:) Alright… enjoy. (Actually, don't enjoy, because it's sad and if you enjoy this then you need help…lol) Whatev. Here it is…
It sucked. It truly did.
Living with Chloe Chase was like living with a large incredibly-similar-to-a-human-being Barbie doll that, when you stripped away the make-up and the shiny moveable parts, you would reveal just this broken down eight year old that knows way too much and is just trying to hold it together. It was a truly awful sight to see.
They, Chase and his mum, would be at a party and it would be all smiles and laughs and planting random spontaneous kisses on the top of Chase's head. They would link arms and she would show him off to all her friends joking around that Chase was her date, as Rowan was off at some conference or working himself out of existence. It would be fun. Chase loved his mother and liked her friends; they were a lot like her. They were funny, outgoing, and just plain cool and fun to be with. It was awesome, Chase always loved that he got to spend so much time with his mum because of his dad's demanding job.
But that was all just a surface act. Then they would get into the limo to go home and it immediately became a different story.
Right away, she would dive into the stash of vodka she kept hidden in between the slippery leather seats. Chase would look out the window, silent and pretend not to hear his mum's grateful moans as she fell into a dazed buzz. The clear liquid would be long gone when they pulled up at the front door of the Chase's mansion. At this point Chloe would be crying softly into thirteen year old Chase's shoulder about five minutes from passing out cold.
"Come on, Mum," Chase would urge taking his hand off the back of her head where he was stroking her hair to wrap his arm around her waist and help her out of the car with the assistance of Larry, the driver. He knew full well the small window of opportunity he had to get her in the house and in bed before she gave up and passed out.
Larry and Chase would maneuver her up the steps and dump her in the foyer. Chase would dig around in his mum's purse, snatch a ten and slip it to Larry with a nod of thanks.
"Is there anything else you need, sir?" Larry would ask quietly so as to not wake up the snoring Mrs. Chase.
Chase would shake his head and re-open the door for the secret keeping driver, his signal to go so that Chase could keep the volume down to a minimum for his mum's and his little sister's (Chloe the II and Zoë) benefit. But more often than not, Larry would slam the door shut out of habit behind him and Chloe would stir.
"Robbie…," her pained voice groaned through heavy tears, "oh, Robbie… I think I'm losing him." She was, of course, talking about Rowan.
Chase didn't really see the hurt in losing the scarcely seen doctor. All it would mean to Chase was that, once a year, during Christmas himself, his mum, his dad, and his two younger sisters wouldn't have to pretend like they all got along at stiff, boring family functions. He figured if his parents spilt up it would be better for everyone. Rowan could be free to date all the woman he had on the side openly, Chase's mum could finally let go, and Chase wouldn't have to keep playing interference so that Chloe the II and Zoë would be kept in the dark about their mum's problem.
But Chase could tell letting his mum know all of this was not a good idea at the present so he just sighed, "He's not going to leave, mum." Chloe inhaled a ragged breath before bursting into sobs again.
"I'm… so… sorry, baby," She cried curling up into a tight ball, still lying on the floor.
Chase got down o his knees and placed a hand on her shoulder.
He didn't know what to do. He tried so hard to be the perfect son, for her. He was in the 0.01 of his class and scored a 99.99 in all of his classes. When he wasn't taking care of his sisters or mother he was studying. He never go into trouble, he was polite, kind, and charming when he was around others. Ms. Manners would be proud. But it seemed as if, no matter what he did, he couldn't get his mum from stop being curled up in a ball on the floor almost every night. Chase checked his watch: 12:37 A.M.
He had a math final in the morning.
"Mum, let's go, I need to go bed…" Chase's soothing voice begged.
His mum just sobbed harder. Chase sighed and gathered her up in his arms. For a little guy, he sure was strong. Chloe buried her face in his shirt, no doubt leaving a permanent stain of mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow, and cover up. Chase trudged up the stairs to his bedroom and tucked her into his bed so he could make sure she didn't choke on her own vomit that night. He stuck his waste basket next to the bed and yawned as he walked over to his desk.
He grabbed his math book and calculator out of his blue bag etched with his school's symbol on the front. Grabbing a flashlight and sticking it in between his teeth, he flipped open the math book to page 421 and started reading. In order to calculate the slope of a line you must first…
This was going to be a long night.
But, then again, most of them were.