Ash, Like The Tree
Author's note: This was a collective work, with me providing the idea, my sister writing it, and me proof-reading (to the best of my abilities!). It's our first fanfic. It will probably go on longer than 20,000 words, it's almost at fifteen thousand right now and we'll update regularly, probably twice a week. Thanks for reading. We'd love to get reviews!
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
1.
He hadn't been thinking about her at all, it shamed him to admit it but he hadn't thought of her in months. The last time they saw each other had been years ago, and it hadn't been very pleasant for either of them. But when he came in that morning and heard Masters happily chatting with Foreman about how her little brother was graduating from school, and how Foreman's was actually pretty close to getting married now, she came right back to his mind, and he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Especially when the conversation turned to him.
"So what about you, Chase?" Masters asked, "any siblings?" Foreman just looked at him expectantly, probably wondering why he hadn't bothered to ask about Chase's family before.
"Little sister," he said, matter-of-factly, the way he thought wouldn't invite further questions. "But we don't see each other much."
"Does she live in Australia?"
"No, she… moved to South Africa, I think? A couple of years ago."
She had actually called him when she made the move. It was time for a change, she said. It was after their father died and she wanted to make a life of her own, so she packed her bags and enrolled herself in school, as far away from Melbourne as she could afford, and that was one of the last times they'd talked. She might've left now, might be somewhere else. He didn't even have her address.
"Cool." Masters said, and looked down, just as House walked through the glass doors of the conference room.
"Sorry to interrupt your little chat, but since we don't have a case Cuddy requires our help down at the clinic. And by our help I mean your help. Now scram." They got up in silence as House retreated to his office and grabbed his portable TV.
It was later that night that Chase fumbled with the little piece of paper he had torn out of an old address book, one he'd had many years ago, and he was sure all the other numbers were lost. The ragged edges of this remaining paper were already turning mushy from the constant folding. The number had been pressed into some other books' pages, and he had gone through half his personal library before he found it, in the dust jacket of a Roald Dahl book. When he finally settled beside the phone it was already past midnight, and the streets below had quieted down enough for him to hear his own heart pumping hard in his chest, his eyes glassy from staring for so long at the number. Why was he even trying to call her now? Had he only just remembered? He had never really forgotten… She probably didn't want to speak to him anyways. Or did she? No, she knew his number too, if she wanted, she could've called. Ah, but she'd always been so proud…
He dropped the paper, and picked it right back up. He realized that if he didn't call now they might spend the rest of their lives separate, and he didn't want that. He had no other family, and it would be good to feel a little less alone.
He held his breath as the foreign waiting tone began, hands shaking in shrill panic, while some part of him still screamed at him to hung up!, hung up!, before she picked up. Fortunately she didn't take long.
"Hello?" She said. He felt blood pounding in his face just hearing her voice, and he quieted down the part that told him it wasn't too late to drop this.
"Claire?" He asked, though of course it was her, he already knew that.
"Robbie? God…" she paused, there was movement. Her voice sounded really quiet. "Is everything okay?"
"No, I… I mean, yes, it's great… I… I just wanted to know how you were."
"I'm fine. Why are you calling?" she said, but she didn't sound hostile, like she had been so often when they had lived together, no… Now she just seemed curious.
"Just... I don't know, I mean you're my sister, and it's been a while since you last called, so I just figured..."
"It's okay… I was sort of hoping you would someday."
"I'm not calling you out of guilt" He said a little too harshly, anticipating answer she hadn't given him. He took a breath. "No, I'm sorry… I'm sorry. I'm sorry we fought and I didn't keep in touch. You are the only family I've got left, I should've tried harder. I just… miss you."
"Well, I… I didn't exactly make it easy on you, did I? I'm fine now. I promise. My life is good here." She said, not so cheerful now, she made a quick recovery. "I'm glad you called. I have so much I need to tell you. I'm sorry I pushed you away." She didn't have to say much more. She had been wild and reckless when she was younger, and when she got to drinking it brought back memories that Chase would have rather forgot. It had been easier to leave.
"I wish you could be here with me," he said.
"Yeah, so do I. It's been too long." She paused for some time, and Chase wondered if she had hung up on him, but then she returned. "Listen, I'm happy you called, but I have to go now okay?" There was some noise in the background, shouts and laughs. It was probably early morning there, and she had stuff to do.
"Uh, yeah, sure."
"Call me again? We'll talk over skype or something."
"Okay. Take care." And the phone clicked, and she was gone.
He sighed. For the rest of the night the call replayed in his head and he felt excited by the prospect of speaking again, but it had already become too easy to push things like this off the back of his mind. When it was morning, he didn't call. He didn't make arrangements to visit, even though he wanted to. He told himself that work was now too busy for him to take a vacation. He didn't call her again, and neither did she. The team got a case shortly after and the workload got so heavy he forgot about it.
He was following House and the rest of the team down the hall to see their latest patient when he got the call. He recognized the extension immediately, but did not know the number. He fell behind in the hallway when they went in the patient's room, waving an apology gesture towards Foreman before picking up. In those brief moments, he wondered who it was, or if it was even a decent time to be calling given the difference in hours. It made him a bit uneasy, but didn't dwell on it.
"Hello?" he said.
"Is this Dr. Robert Chase?" The voice was unfamiliar, and Chase could only guess it belonged to a middle aged man, with a weird accent.
"Yes... I'm sorry, who is this?
"Sorry, this is Officer Ted Bale. Is your sister Claire Chase?" A sense of dread then washed through him, as if expecting a blow and being unable to avoid it. He became aware of his voice becoming more frantic as he continued the conversation.
"Yes, yes, is she alright?" Please don't say it. Please don't say it. Please don't say it. Why hadn't he called again? Please let her be alright.
"I am… very sorry, sir." The words felt like such a blow it knocked the breath right out of him, and he ended leaning against the wooden panels of the hallway, sliding slowly to the floor. "She was in a bus accident yesterday. She passed away. They have told me you are the one to be notified."
"Wh...what? Oh God" He couldn't believe it then. It must be some kind of joke. Some kind of sick joke to get back at him for something.
Still firmly clenching the phone, he started making his way to the restroom, suddenly feeling sick. The man on the line kept talking, but Chase only heard bits and pieces. When he got to the locker room he was already sweating, and breathing hard.
"We have to know if you'll take care of the arrangements." The man said. Chase found himself nodding before realizing he had to speak up.
"Yes. I will" he said, his voice just a thread. "I'll be there as soon as I can"
"I'm sorry for your loss, sir. Anything else just let me know."
"Sure."
Chase took a moment to compose himself before going outside, since he felt, and probably looked, like he had just been punched. A single thought made a loop in his head. I'm never going to see her again. He tried picturing her from memory and the photos he had kept, but he ended up remembering her like a little girl, with her copper blonde curls and matching eyes. She was still a girl in his mind, he had never really known her as an adult…
He stayed on the floor for a while, his gaze fixed on the wall right ahead, trying to forget what he had just heard. Maybe if he closed his eyes long enough he could pretend it had all been a dream. Would it have made any difference, if he hadn't called her? Would he feel this lost?
He was washing his face on the sink when Foreman walked in.
"Where the hell were you, man? We've been looking for you, you were supposed to do the tolerance test on Haylee." Chase finished drying his face and looked at Foreman's reflection on the mirror.
"I have to leave right now" His colleague could see now the pain in his face, and his stern look turned to concern.
"Why? Is everything alright?"
"No... I... I got a call. My sister. I have to go." The words just stumbled out of his mouth. The call keep playing in his head and he felt as if the world would end if he said it out loud. He began picking up his stuff, leaving the white robe discarded on the floor. Finally, Foreman seemed to understand what he was trying to say.
"God, Chase. I'm so sorry. Go, I'll tell Cuddy."
Chase nodded in thanks and made his way out of the room. He didn't run into anybody on his way out and was thankful for that. He started making a list in his mind of things he had to do as he exited the hospital building, yes, a list was good, and the call and her voice stopped playing.
The wind was blowing hard outside, and with the recent snowfall it created almost white out conditions. The cold hit him like a rock on the first step out, every breath feeling painfully dry, but he didn't want to return for his coat, and he continued towards his car. The drive was fast, and he tried to focus all of his energy on the traffic.
His apartment greeted him the same way he had left it when he went to work that morning. For some reason he had expected it to be different, in some way at least, it was strange to feel like he was the only one who had changed. He picked up his clothes from the floor where he had left them and turned on every single light. He managed to buy tickets from his phone for very early the next morning, making a lengthy connection in Heathrow, but he would arrive in a little more than a day.
He sat on the bed, exhausted though he hadn't actually done anything, and he sighed. That was it. He had no family now. The fact that he had actually managed to have a nice conversation and apologized before she passed did little to make him feel any better. What had they said to each other anyway? It had just been a short talk with little content other than the very late 'I'm sorry's.
He had to stop thinking about it. He began taking his old suitcase from the closet, he threw in the suit he had worn at his wedding, and then quickly filled it with things he would need, or thought he'd need. How long would he be gone? God, it had been long since he'd last left Princeton… Considering he only had a one way ticket, and the fact that he wasn't overly eager to return to his job in diagnostics, he prepared for a moderate stay. After all, he had almost a month of unused holidays; he might as well make use of them.
He managed to finish packing, still calm and composed, and he left the luggage standing beside the door and headed towards the kitchen. Sitting there, Chase felt more alone that he had in a long while, even though hardly anything had changed. He didn't want to be idle, and stood to fix himself something to eat, but then the silence around him was interrupted by the trilling of the phone. A faint glimmer of hope passed through his mind. Maybe they confused her, or somebody stole her documents, maybe she's alright and...
"Chase?" His reverie was interrupted by the answering machine."It's Martha" the voice said "Masters. Foreman told me about your sister, and I just wanted to say I'm sorry and...just let me know if you need anything. Take care."
He should have expected the condolences calls, but for some reason they made him angry. That they were all fine and happy with their own messy families and that he was all alone, and that he had been alone for so long before and only really noticed it now, when there was nothing to be done about it. He got messages from Foreman, then Taub and then Cuddy, who told him to take all the time he needed. He was already lying in bed when the phone rang again.
"Chase, pick up" It was House. "Pick up the phone, or you are fired." He scoffed, and stretched towards the receiver.
"What do you want, House?" He said, as aggressively as he could manage without his voice breaking.
"Just making sure I still had the correct number." He said in a mocking tone. Chase was ready to hang up when he talked again. "Foreman said you're going to the bush land, I have a bet going on that you'll get lost. So don't hurry back."
"I'm not going to the bush land. Can't you manage a 'take your time' like Cuddy did?"
"Yeah, well, but not irreversibly lost. I don't want to go through the interview process again, it's a bore, and I'm out of flowers."
"Ok, whatever, goodbye House" He hung up the phone and returned to bed. He knew the next day was going to be a long one, but still sleep was avoiding him, and Claire's face, her ten-year-old face, hovered above him when he closed his eyes. He remembered the watch on his nightstand making one o'clock before he was awoken again by the alarm. It felt like he had just blinked, and not slept at all.