Summary: Chase is having a lousy day and House decides to get to the bottom of it by talking to Wilson. Wilson shares very enlightening information about Chase's father, and Cameron tries to make Chase feel better. Takes place a week after 'Cursed.'

Disclaimer: I don't own it. No one on this flipping site owns the stuff they write about.

Broken Family Ties

He lies on the couch in Wilson's office. He should get a couch, of course something more comfortable than this, but still. He often wondered how Wilson got to have a couch in his office. Is it really necessary for someone to be comfortable while being told how long they have left to live?

Ah, Wilson's footsteps, along with someone else's. A patient, maybe. Wilson's probably going to tell them they have six months left to live or something.

"Let's step inside my office," he hears Wilson say. The door opens. He flashes a wicked grin at Wilson and starts twirling his cane. Wilson opens his mouth to argue but House cuts him off.

"Wilson, differential diagnosis," House says, "Male-"

"House, really, don't you have anything better to do?" asks Wilson.

"Nope. So, about the diagnosis. Male, 26, suddenly tired and lethargic. Hmm, throw in sad puppy eyes, too."

"House, please I have a patient."

House looks at Wilson and sees a ten or twelve-year-old girl with hopeful, yet sad parents behind him.

"So, tell her she has six months and then you'll have all the time in the world," reasons House.

"House!"

"What?" It made perfect sense to him.

Wilson sighs, House smirks. He won and Wilson knows it. Wilson turns to the family, apologizes, and tells them to wait in his office and make themselves comfortable. Then he turns to House.

"Well, if you want a diagnosis, you'll have to get out of my office."

House is shocked. Wilson sort of made a demand. House shrugs and follows Wilson out of his office.

"Can we please try to make it quick?" asks Wilson.

"Diagnosis."

"Okay…" Wilson tries to remember what House said in his office. Suddenly something clicks. "Are we talking about Chase?"

"Sí."

"I thought his dad left."

"Sí."

Wilson sighs. "Is this really important?"

"He's not doing his job right and it's bothering Cameron. Maybe I should fire him."

"Maybe he's having a lousy day."

"Why?"

"Why? Why are you asking me? I'm not Chase."

"He and his pitiful, sad puppy eyes are screwing up most of my team."

"What about Foreman?"

"Chase snapped at him and Foreman let it go."

"So, that leaves Cameron who probably feels sorry for him."

"Yep," answers House.

"Did you talk to him? And before you answer, I mean talk, not mock."

"Hmm…when you put it that way, I don't think so."

"Great. How am I supposed to know?"

"'Cause you took care of his dad."

"House!"

"I'm not asking you to talk to Chase. I just want to know what's bothering him."

"So that way, you can put down his feelings that much quicker and get the old Chase back."

House pretends to look around for the answer. "Uh, yeah."

Wilson sighs. He really needs to get back to his patient, but House was relentless.

"Well," says Wilson slowly.

"Well…?"

"Maybe he misses his dad or was expecting something of him."

"I think it's the second one."

"Maybe today's some sort of anniversary for Chase."

"Like the day his dad walked out? The day his mother died?"

Wilson's face crumples as a sudden flashback hits him. He takes a deep breath, but it did not go unnoticed by House.

"Today must be the day his mother died," says House, triumphant, "And you know something." He gets no response from Wilson. "Tell me or I'll go in there and counsel your patient."

Wilson's eyes widen, completely horrified. Not even wanting to think of that scenario, he gives up and says, "Dr. Rowan said something about his ex-wife's death."

&&&

"It must be nice to see Chase, erm, Robert again," commented Wilson to Dr. Rowan. They sat in Dr. Wilson's office waiting for the lab results.

"I wish Robert felt the same way," said Dr. Rowan.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"It's probably my fault. I think he expected too much."

"From you?" asked Wilson, "Didn't you divorce his mom? Is it natural?"

"I don't know; I've only had one divorce, and it ended badly for Robert."

"Yeah, House told me his mother died…"

"The only way he would have known that is if Robert told him, but I doubt Robert told anybody how his mother died."

Wilson shrugged. He usually hated being involved in any sort of gossip, especially if it involved people he knew. But it seemed as if Dr. Rowan was letting it all out and Wilson knew that was important for cancer patients in dealing with the stress of the cancer.

"I'll tell you, but don't tell Robert."

"Alright."

&&&

I drove up to the driveway and squeezed my fiancé's hand.

"They'll like you," I said.

"I don't know," she said, "You said you haven't talked to them in a while."

I shrugged and turned off the engine. We got out of the car walked up the front porch.

"You looking for them?" asked somebody. I didn't see them, but the voice came from the right. I looked over and saw his ex-wife's neighbors, sitting on their porch. The husband was talking to us; the wife sat quietly next to him.

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

"There was an ambulance that came there earlier."

My fiancé gasped. My shoulders stiffened.

"How long ago? Did anyone come back?"

"You just missed 'em. Ambulance came by about, what, ten minutes ago?"

"Do you know where and who…?"

I sincerely hoped it wasn't Robert, but as I had that thought, it suddenly occurred to me who must be.

"It was the mom and they said they were going to that Charity Hospital. I don't know which. Probably the closest one to here."

"Thank you!" I shouted and I grabbed my fiancé and ran in the car.

"You know where they are?" she asked as I started the car.

"Yeah," I said already driving there.

*****

It didn't take long at all to find Robert. He was pacing restlessly outside of a room, which I assumed to be his mother's. My fiancé was waiting in the waiting room.

Robert suddenly stopped pacing and looked the small window on the door of the room. He stood still and I stood at a distance, just watching. He started taking deep breaths in an attempt to stop crying. I had never seen him so distraught, not even when I walked out. But I couldn't go near him, not now.

Robert resumed his pacing for only half a minute before suddenly stopping in front of the door. I saw him take another breath and suddenly he opened the door and rushed inside. I moved a little closer and heard it all.

"MOM! Mom! What's wrong with her!?"

"You're not supposed to be in here!"

"Shut up! I'm her son! What's wrong!? How come she's not coming out!? Is she okay!?"

"Get out."

"It's all my fault! I shouldn't have gone out! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Son, it's not your fault…"

"Shut up! Why isn't she alright?"

"I know you're scared…"

"You don't know crap! Mom! Please wake up! Please!"

I heard the utter desperation and sadness in his voice. It almost broke my heart.

"She just had her stomach pumped…"

"So, she drank too much, she'll be okay. She just drank too much this time…Right? Please tell me! Mom!"

I moved closer to the door and peaked through the window. Robert was a mess. His hair was messed up and his face was streaked with tears. There were only two doctors in there and a nurse. I stopped a passing nurse and asked about the situation.

"She drank way too much," she said, "She won't make it without intervention."

You make it sound like she signed a DNR, I commented.

The nurse sadly nodded.

Then it was suicide?

The nurse muttered something and walked in the room. She stuck my ex-wife's arm with a needle, earning an angry and shocked glare from all in the room, except Robert who was trying to wake up his mother.

"Mom!" This time, he sounded excited. The nurse had awakened his mother.

My ex-wife looked confused and then she focused on Robert. She tried to crack a smile, but Robert saw straight through it.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I won't go out again, I'm sorry. I should've been home and none of this would've ever happened. I'm sorry, mom, I won't do it again. I'm sorry…"

It was almost pathetic hearing him apologize like that.

"It's okay," said his mother softly, "It's not your fault. I just drank a little too much."

"A lot too much," said Robert, "You're in the hospital."

"I know. But it'll be over soon."

He saw Robert's eyes widen in shock and confusion. The doctors moved to the corner of the room to give them some space.

"What? No. Maybe dad's coming. I mean you called him enough."

"He never came. I wish he did."

I looked at Robert's face. I knew Robert did not share his mother's wishes, but it would make her better… I didn't go in.

"Mom? Please…I love you. Please don't go. Please."

"I'm sorry, Robert." She nodded to one of the nurses.

"No! Mom! Don't! Don't do this! Please! Mom! Please! I love you, Mom."

His mother smiled at him and Robert climbed in the bed with his mother. He hugged her tightly, crying on her shoulder and his mother hugged him back.

"I'm sorry. I just can't. I can't take care of you."

"You don't have to die."

The nurse started turning off the machine that kept his mother alive.

"I can't take of myself."

"I can! Mom! Don't die!"

"I do love you, Robert, I really do."

"Mom!"

She passed out as the monitor connected to her heart started beeping, a warning that the heart was dying.

"Mom!"

I sighed and I was about to turn to leave when I caught Robert's eye. The doctors had gotten him out of the bed so they could be sure that she dead and proclaim death, so Robert stood next to his now deceased mother. But that stare…

&&&

"I'll never forget that glare he gave me," said Dr. Rowan, "It was filled with so much hate and loathing…as if I personally went in there and pulled the plug.

"Wow," said Wilson, a bit uneasy. "Did it ever occur to you that you should go in there and help him out?"

"Help him with what? There's nothing I could've done."

"Sometimes just being there helps."

"Sometimes," Dr. Rowan sighed. "Anyway, it's too late. The damage is done."

"It's never too late," said Wilson, "And I should know."

Dr. Rowan avoided eye contact.

"Sometimes," said Wilson, "I think kids just want to know that their parents care. They want their parents to show some sort of interest in their lives."

Dr. Rowan shrugged, remembering the pain in the aftermath of her death.

"I didn't go the funeral."

That was an unexpected statement, but Wilson replied to that without missing a beat, "Just show Chase you care about him. Just pretend you do."

"He doesn't want to see me."

"He doesn't. But he wants to love you."

"Really?" asked Dr. Rowan, skeptical.

"He's your son. He can't help it."

&&&

House stares at Wilson, for once at a loss for words.

"He didn't go to the funeral?"

"No."

"I would hate my dad, too," comments House, "What else?"

"Well, let's see," says Wilson, "He did meet up with his dad after his mother's death. They met in the hospital cafeteria."

"Lovely reunion, what happened?"

"Well, Dr. Rowan sat at the same table as Chase and after a minute or so of silence he left."

"Who? Senior or junior?"

"Senior."

"He's not lousy dad," muses House, "He just has no clue how to be a dad. And Chase…I bet Chase was expecting his dad to call or say something about his mother's death."

"So Chase was expecting too much… It's sad, really," remarks Wilson.

"Chase needs to get over it," says House sternly. The sudden change in tone shocks Wilson.

"House, Chase can't just get over it."

"He has to. It's interfering with his job."

((((((((((((((((((((((((()

Chase and Cameron sat in the observation room watching their patient undergo surgery. Cameron was worried about Chase. Chase had been down all day, and every time she'd ask him, he'd close up.

Suddenly, Chase sighed. "Maybe, it wouldn't be so bad if he had gone to the funeral…"

Cameron seized the opportunity. "Your parents."

"Yeah."

They were facing the surgery, not each other. Cameron wished that she could see his face.

"This is why I hate him. 'Cause it hurts too much to love him."

"He loves you," said Cameron.

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you."

"You don't know that, either."

"You wish that he loved you, the way you want—need—him to."

"I used to. That hurt, too. Bloody bastard."

Cameron looked at him and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Cameron found one tear threatening to escape.

"Do you want me to visit her with you? Your mother, I mean."

"If you don't mind."

Cameron smiled and shook her head.

"Thanks," whispered Chase.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Author's Note: This is my first House fanfic, but I'm not a stranger to the site. I am not a fountain of wisdom when it comes to House. I've only seen several episodes, but I'm not completely clueless. I can get by with reading some spoilers.

Please Review! And if I got anything horribly wrong, please tell me. I know, or at least I'm almost certain that Chase and Cameron are not a canon couple, but Cameron was the most likely person who would be trying to make Chase feel better like that (plus I needed the story end).

Again, Review!