New Jersey Winter

disclaimer: I'm not associated with House or FOX in any way. I write for fun, not profit.

3/3!!

-

Foreman hesitated between turning off the ignition and unlocking the doors, and for a moment Chase was sure he was about to get some lengthy lecture on what he should and shouldn't do, how he should behave. But all Foreman said before pressing the release on the power locks was, "Everyone's really sad in there so you know, keep it down."

Climbing out of the Explorer, Chase realized he had no idea what that last part meant. Did Foreman expect him to go in the house and immediately burst out laughing or cracking jokes? As a kid he'd had a slight fear of laughing during funerals, laughing when he should have been crying—but after his mother's funeral, he'd learned the fear was unfounded. He'd gotten pretty good at being solemn when he had to. That was a good quality in a doctor.

Foreman gave him a sort of forced smile as he pressed the doorbell and they stood waiting with their hands in their pockets for someone to answer the door.

An older woman answered, round glasses perched atop her nose, wearing a purple dress that escaped being a muumuu by just a few stitches.

"Oh, Eric!" she said, reaching out and immediately folding Foreman into a hug. "I'm so glad you could make it. Your father will be so glad to see you."

"Hi, Auntie," Foreman said, sounding only vaguely uncomfortable. He gently unwound her arms from his shoulders. "This is my friend from work, uh…Dr. Chase."

The woman took Chase's hands in both her own. "So nice to meet you—my name is Megan, I'm Eric's aunt. Dr. Chase, huh? You look so young."

Chase wasn't sure what he should say to that other than, "Uh, nice to meet you too, Ma'am."

"Oh, don't 'ma'am' me. Call me Auntie Meg."

Chase gave her hands a final shake before pulling away. "Robert."

"Well, why don't you boys come inside? It's freez—it's warmer inside. Come on, come on."

As they filed past, Chase was hit with a wave of warm air and the smell of something sweet cooking in the kitchen. Foreman was shucking his wet sneakers in the entryway, so Chase kicked his boots off and they followed Auntie Meg into the living room.

Two women about Chase's age, maybe older, were sorting through a large box of photographs and daubing their eyes with pink tissues. Beside them was a skinny young man with large glasses and a necktie and across from him, in a well-worn easy chair, Foreman's father.

"Hi, Dad," Foreman said, giving his father a one-armed hug. The hug was returned in silence. "You remember Dr. Chase, right?"

"Yes, of course." The old man's tone didn't sound particularly baleful. "How do you do, Doctor? Thank you for coming."

Chase mimed a hat tip in the elder Foreman's direction. "Sorry for the circumstances."

"Oh, Eric, look at this!" one of the younger women called suddenly, holding up a photograph with rounded corners. It must have been old. "This is a beautiful one for the album."

Foreman picked up the picture and almost cracked a smile. "Yeah, that's Mom. That's a great one."

"Can I get you boys some coffee?" Auntie Meg asked, reminding Chase that she was still standing behind him.

"That would be great, thank you," he said, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Can I take your coat?"

"No, that's all right."

"I'm sorry, Doctor—" Mr. Foreman said suddenly, as if he'd just noticed Chase again. "Come have a seat."

Chase felt himself flush at the formality. "You can call me Robert," he said, settling down into an unoccupied wooden chair with a cushion and straight back.

The woman who'd handed Foreman the photograph held out her hand. "I'm Linda and this is my sister Anaya."

"They're Megan's kids," Mr. Foreman explained.

"We're not kids, Uncle," Anaya said playfully, wiping her eyes with a shirt sleeve, "I'm almost thirty."

"Almost, my ass," Foreman murmured as he leafed through the box of pictures.

"Hey!" Anaya protested.

"She's lying," said Foreman, "We're like six months apart."

Chase shrugged a shoulder and tried to smile. It had been a while since he'd seen this and the cliché almost surprised him: grieving family cracking jokes about nothing. It was never like that at the hospital, as if something in the medicinal environment gave a free pass to open mourning.

"That's Doobie, our baby brother," Anaya said, changing the subject. "Oh, it's not his real name but we've called him that since he was a baby."

"How do you do," Doobie said. His handshake was limp. Chase wanted to ask what his real name was, but if it was worse than "Doobie," he wasn't sure that information would be volunteered.

"I need a smoke," Linda said. She swiped a tissue across her dewy forehead and reached for her purse. "I'll be right back."

"It'll be the death of you," Megan called as they crossed paths in the foyer. Linda waved her hand dismissively and disappeared.

Two steaming hot coffees in pink rimmed mugs were plunked in front of Chase and Foreman.

"So Robert, tell me," Auntie Meg blew into her own cup of coffee. "Where are you from? England?"

"Australia." The ceramic mug was almost too hot touch.

"Well you're a long ways from home then. You got family back from here?"

"Auntie, don't pry," Foreman said.

"I'm just asking a simple question."

"It's okay," Chase burned his tongue against the coffee which was surprisingly strong. "My stepmother's still living in Oz."

"And your parents?"

Chase flexed his fingers inside his pocket. "I'm afraid it's just me."

The clock was suddenly ticking very loudly.

"So, Eric," Mr. Foreman said suddenly, "I'm going to pay your brother a visit later this week. Have you spoken to him?"

"Uh, not yet," Foreman said, more to his lap than to his father.

"I'm sure he'd love to hear from you. This is especially hard for him."

Foreman squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't want to talk about this now."

"Would it be so hard just to call, or—"

"Dad!"

Chase started as Foreman leapt to his feet, nearly knocking over his untouched cup of coffee. Foreman's father pressed his lips into a thin line as his son stalked past towards the kitchen. Anaya buried her hands noisily in the box of photographs.

"What about this one? This is a nice one, isn't it?" she said, holding out a picture to Chase.

"It's nice," Chase agreed without looking.

- - -

The Foremans' house was two stories, with a narrow stairway winding up from the foyer. Chase had originally thought it was a closet, but now the door was ajar and he could just make out the carpeted steps leading to the second floor.

"Excuse me," Auntie Meg said, bustling past, "I need to check on the roast."

"Is uh…Eric upstairs?" asked Chase.

"Oh heaven knows. I can't believe he's still fighting with his father, at a time like this."

"He seemed upset."

"Yes, well. Those two can't agree on anything, not even now. Hm…" She squinted at whatever was in the oven. "Needs a little more time. If you do find Eric, tell him dinner's almost ready."

"All right," Chase agreed.

As Megan fussed over the oven, he slipped into the stairwell and padded upstairs as quietly as he could. The upstairs hallway was wallpapered with blue stripes and several framed photos hung along the walls. He stopped to look at one: a family portrait of a young couple with two boys standing at their sides. The younger one who must have been Foreman was surprising pudgy with a wide smile. His brother looked sullen, leaning into the embrace of his mother's arm but (at maybe 11 or 12?) too cool to acknowledge it.

"Foreman? You up here?" Chase called.

At first, no response, but then, "Yeah, in here." Chase pushed open the nearest door.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"You can turn on the light if you want."

"Uh…it's okay. I was just…" Chase took a few steps into the room, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I can only take so much of him at once, y'know?"

Chase shrugged. His eyes were adjusting to the dim light provided by a streetlamp outside and he could see the outline of Foreman sitting on a twin bed. Chase's knee bumped an identical bed on the other side of the room and he sat down tentatively, across from Foreman.

"What's the story with your brother?" he asked

"If I tell you, you're not gonna try and puzzle me out?" Foreman shook his head. "He's in prison for dealing."

"Drugs?"

Even in the relative dark, Chase could tell he was getting Foreman's Are you an idiot? face.

"Yes. He got me into all kinds of shit too before they caught him. I was a minor though; spent a few years in juvie and they let me go.

My dad's got this whole Christian forgiveness thing going on. Like, 'Eric, we gave you a second chance and look at you!'" Foreman paused to shake his head. "Marcus isn't like me."

"I'm…sorry," said Chase.

"Mom couldn't even remember he was in jail half the time. We even mentioned it, she'd get really upset."

"Your mother had…"

"Alzheimer's. Yeah. I tell you how she died?"

"She froze to death. Outside the house."

Foreman was silent for a second. "Did I tell you it happened here? Because I don't think…"

"Here." Chase already had the scrap of folded paper out of his pocket. He held it out to Foreman.

"What's this?"

"I thought you might want to see it."

Foreman turned on a lamp on the bedside table and unfolded the piece of newspaper Chase had handed him. Chase almost felt like he should have been looking away but Foreman's eyes were widening at the headline and Chase felt like he had to watch. All train wreck analogies aside…

"I didn't see this one." Foreman's voice sounded hoarse. "They…they didn't even print her name. Goddamn." He fell back against the bed, lifting a hand to cover his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Chase said again, because what else was there to say? At least she didn't suffer? Foreman already knew that; he was a doctor too. Besides, it was little comfort. Chase knew that all too well.

"Linda and Anaya…" Foreman screwed up his face. "They keep giving me that whole 'I know how you feel' thing—because, you know, their father had a stroke last year. But it's not the same…it's…like I'd already lost her. I lost her a hundred times before she actually…"

Chase realized Foreman wasn't going to finish the thought. "Do you want to be alone?"

"It doesn't…do whatever the hell you want."

Chase's gaze settled on the blank, colorless wall behind Foreman. The room was painfully indistinct, plain bedcovers, nothing on the walls—it must have had a history, but only Foreman would recognize that.

"I'll get the light," Chase said, standing up.

In the second between reaching for the lamp flipping the switch, Foreman asked, "Were you going to say it?"

"Say what? Oh. No I wasn't."

"Hm. Well, you're probably someone who could."

Chase half-smiled. "No, you're right. It's not the same."

But it was, in a way.

I'd already lost her.

Yes.

I lost her a hundred times.

Life is funny that way, Chase decided, and closed the door behind him.

- - -

The snow stopped falling and started melting, mixed with thawing earth by the footprints of pedestrians and the tracks of tires until what was once pristine white became mud-colored and slushy.

They salted the roads and Chase took his car to work.

House had a patient, but she was diagnosed over breakfast (bagels) and treated by lunch. Hardly a challenge, Chase thought, but it broke up the monotony of another day of clinic duty and paperwork. And the fact that Cuddy had made the referral was certainly a good indication she'd let House out on parole.

Cameron's sister had the baby, a few weeks premature, but otherwise "perfect"—

according to Cameron at least, who'd been taken by surprise when asked to be the kid's Godmother. Chase and Foreman exchanged glances at this—she was surprised? But neither had any sisters so they chalked it up to Another Strange Thing About Women, and gave their congratulations.

The weather was far from nice—still near freezing with wind chill—but the sky was clear, and the sun was out, so House took off early and Foreman and Chase went out onto the balcony to watch a couple trying to jump start their car.

"You feeling any better?" Chase asked, when the silence started to bother him.

"I'm fine." Foreman sighed. "Dad finally guilted me into visiting my brother. I'm going after work."

Chase shrugged. "There are worse ways to spend your time."

"Yeah, I know."

"How's your father anyway?"

"He's fine. Handling it well. He handles everything well." Foreman paused. "Still holding out hope that 'something good will come of this.""

Chase looked at him.

"That I'll find religion," Foreman explained. He shook his head. "I don't know why he's still trying."

Chase squinted out at the parking lot, the sun reflected in numerous silver bumpers.

"Maybe," he said carefully, "Maybe you should listen to him…your father. I think he's trying to do a good thing."

Foreman chuckled. "That's exactly what I didn't want to hear."

"I know," Chase said quickly, "And you won't hear it again—not from me anyway. Sorry."

"No. Chase, I mean, just—" Foreman pressed his lips together. "I'm not ready to hear it yet."

Chase tucked his chin down into his collar as a sharp gust of wind swept over the balcony. "Okay."

Foreman leaned against the railing and narrowed his eyes at Chase. "You cold?"

"Yeah, I'm going back inside."

"You've been walking from the bus stop everyday in worse weather than this, and you're cold now?"

"It's still cold!"

"It's not cold; it's crisp." Foreman laughed.

"I'm still going inside."

"Wait, Chase—are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

Chase paused with his hand on the door. "I don't have anything planned."

"A couple of friends I were going to hit this new bar down the street to hang out, play pool. You want to come?"

A drop of water hit Chase's cheek and he looked up to see the icicles on the hospital roof were melting.

"Yeah," he said. "I do."

- - -

a/n: SO THAT'S IT. For a three-parter, it wasn't really that long, but I kind of like the way it split up. I'd love to have feedback on this one...I think it's replacing Portions For Foxes as my favorite fic I've written. Anyway, it's pretty epic for gen for me. And as SimmySim (also my wonderful beta) said, Foreman/Chase friendship fics are so scarce that this is kind of epic in its own right.

Many many thanks to all those to commented on previous parts and encouraged me :D ILU ALL, thank you, thank you.