Hey, I'm finally back with a new chapter! :D First chapter of 2017 (yay)! It's also the longest one! :)
ENJOY! :D
Disclaimer: Do you think I would be here writing fanfiction if I actually owned the show? So no, no I do not own it, nor do I own the characters.
I Can't...
"I can't sleep in there..." "Because of what happened?" He shamefully nodded his head, eyes still glued to the floor.
Chase has trouble sleeping in his capsule after the events in "Bro Down", but luckily he doesn't have to face his fear alone.
Focus: Chase and Mr. Davenport
His eyes quickly shot open as he desperately tried to get the air into his craving lungs.
Calm down!
He closed his eyes for a moment again and drew in deep, slow breaths as he tried -and failed- to tell his brain that the sensation of suffocating was just his imagination.
Just breathe... In... Out... Come on, just breathe, calm down...
Opening his eyes again slowly, Chase gaze drifted from his right to his left, from his brother to his sister, and then back again. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't freaking breathe!
Just as it felt like he would pass out due to asphyxia, he forced the capsule door open and practically fell out into the cold, fresh air. Gulping down deep breaths, the youngest bionic stumbled up to the cyber-desk as he tried to get his heartbeat to slow down to a normal rhythm. He clutched the edge tightly as he hoped and prayed that his loudness hadn't awoken his siblings.
After a few more minutes of breathing and shaking, Chase glanced back at the capsules. Both Adam and Bree were snoring in their deep sleep. Letting a sigh of relief push past his lips, Chase looked down at his white knuckles and slowly eased his hold of the desk.
His breathing had finally calmed down, but he could still feel the sweat that caused his clothes to stick uncomfortable to his skin and the tears that burned his eyes. He couldn't do it... He couldn't sleep in his capsule... Slowly, almost afraid to see it, Chase glanced back at what used to be his very own place for safety and rest. Now? Now it only caused his chest to tighten painfully as memories of the events two nights before flooded his mind.
Trying to shake the thoughts and fear Chase looked at his sleeping siblings once more before he quietly made his way up to the living room. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway... Yesterday he had been thankful for the fact that Mr. Davenport hadn't been able to fix the shattered door until the next day, but today he had no excuse to not sleep there. Well, except the truth, which he wasn't too keen on admitting...
He was too scared to sleep in his own capsule. Because every time he closed the door, it felt like he would die. He couldn't breathe in there... Chase couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he defeated put his head in his hands. What the heck had he done to himself?
He really wanted to blame someone else for it... Adam, Mr. Davenport, even God -if such a being now existed- but he knew he couldn't. It was nobody's fault; it had simply been an accident. One which Chase himself had made possible... Why couldn't he have just let things be as they were?
Sure, it had been wonderful when Adam didn't run around and threw punches and people... but was it actually worth it? It wasn't like Adam would stop with it. So all it had really done was make Chase unable to sleep in his own capsule; make him afraid of being trapped and asphyxiated by his own "bed"; make him panic anytime he was in a small, hot room... It had only been two nights ago, yet still Chase could tell he wouldn't just forget and move on.
"Ha, if you could be that lucky!" Chase muttered to the quiet and -at least what he thought- empty room.
"Chase?"
The sudden voice behind him actually caused Chase to jump up from his spot on the couch and spin around, wide hazel eyes meeting surprised brown ones.
"M-Mr. Davenport?" Chase said, and mentally cursed himself for stuttering.
"Chase," Mr. Davenport said again, sadder this time as he made his way over to the couch, and Chase wanted nothing more than to just run out of the room as his father placed a hand on his shaking shoulder. Oh boy, he was actually shaking!
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes." Chase said, probably a little too fast because Mr. Davenport was looking at him scrutinizing.
"You sure?"
"Y-Yeah, why- why wouldn't it?" Okay, he had to stop with the stuttering.
"Chase..." Mr. Davenport said again and sat down on the couch. Chase continued to stand up, for a moment wanting to just go back down to the lab, until he remembered what the problem was in the first place. His father looked up at him, waiting for him to join him, and Chase sighed as he sat down, biting his cheek and eyeing the floor.
"How come you're not sleeping?" Right, the only question he couldn't answer at the moment.
"Hmm?" Chase hummed in lack of anything else to say and lifted his head a bit, but kept his eyes trained on the floor.
"You're not sleeping. Why's that?"
"Oh, you know... not tired...?" he replied, but it even sounded like a question in his own ears. He should just go back down, sit in the lab all night, and then in the morning pretend that he had actually slept. Mr. Davenport placed his hand on his shoulder again, squeezing it softly, and Chase chanced a glance at the man. His gaze fell back down when he saw the stern expression.
"Don't lie to me, Chase." Mr. Davenport said, his words reprimanding and Chase felt a light stab of guilt; he didn't want to lie to him, but he couldn't just tell the truth...
"Chase."
The boy pressed his lips together.
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
Chase could feel his eyes starting to sting with tears once more.
"Why aren't you in your capsule?"
Chase had to bite back a sob; why couldn't he just go away! Mr. Davenport squeezed his shoulder once more and Chase pried his mouth open, ready to say he was going to go back down now when...
"I can't sleep in there..."
The truth slipped right through his lips. The ugly, awful truth. God, he sounded like a little boy.
"Because of what happened?" his father asked shocked, and he shamefully nodded his head, eyes still glued to the floor.
"Oh, Chase..." Mr. Davenport sighed sadly and Chase finally looked up at him, his vision blurry by the unshed tears. Mr. Davenport seemed speechless, opening his mouth just to close it again, all the while rubbing his son's arm comfortingly.
"Why-... Why haven't you said anything?"
Chase looked down at his hands, a tear slipping down his cheek. 'Why hadn't he said anything?' Because it was just an embarrassing, irrational fear! But the capsule was just so small, so hot, so... suffocating!
"Chase?" Mr. Davenport asked and this time Chase couldn't stop the sob that tore through him as more tears spilled.
Before he even had the time to react he was pulled into a tight -and surprising- hug. Another sob left him and he buried his head in his father's neck, drawing in the smell there. It smelled like... money. No kidding, the man actually smelled money.
"Hey," Mr. Davenport said and pulled the boy away from him for a moment. "Look at me."
Chase didn't obey, his eyes on his own hands, but the man didn't say anything else until he reluctantly looked up at him. Mr. Davenport didn't, once again, know what to say. What could he say?
"Chase..."
Except his son's name for the umpteenth time that night.
"Why haven't you said anything?" he asked again, but Chase just shook his head, a few more tears rolling down his face.
How could he not have noticed? He was the father; shouldn't he see that his son was terrified of his own sleeping place? But then again, he wasn't really known as the father of the year... But still...
"Why?"
"I-... I don't know..." Chase mumbled, his gaze falling down once more. "I-I... I didn't wanna bother you, I guess. It's just-... It's just so stupid..."
"It's not stupid, Chase." Mr. Davenport said and tilted his head up again. Oh, how he hated how pained they looked! Chase shouldn't be scared like that, or embarrassed of it... "It's not stupid."
Chase pulled his head from his light grasp and looked down at the floor. "It feels stupid..."
"But it's not, Chase, it's-..." God, he was so bad at these things! After all these years, you would think he had learnt something. "You want to talk about it?"
Chase glanced at him and then shook his head. "T-There's nothing to talk about."
"Chase what happened was... traumatizing." Mr. Davenport said, remembering his own panic as he had realized what was happening, and then the fear when he realized that he couldn't do anything to keep his son from dying before his own eyes. Shaking the thoughts from his head Mr. Davenport focused back on Chase.
"Trauma?" the boy said and huffed out a humorless laugh. "A word originating from the Ancient Greek word τραῦμα, which means 'wound' or 'damage'. It describes a deeply upsetting experience, physical injury or emotional distress, or the emotional shock and effect due to such an event."
"Don't-... Don't do that, please." Mr. Davenport begged and Chase looked at him, causing him to see the distress and self-loathe in his eyes. "Don't understate it like that. Not this. Just admit something's wrong."
Chase shook his head again and Mr. Davenport thought he would shut off again, but then the boy sighed.
"I'm not traumatized..." he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with his father once more. "It's just... I'm scared."
Mr. Davenport nodded his head slowly, trying to wrap his head around what to do, what to say. He had dealt with the kids being scared before, but... not like this. A five-year-old scared of the darkness, an eight-year-old scared of the unknown, an eleven-year-old scared of failing; yes, on different occasions actually. But one of them being scared like this? No, not really...
"It's-... It's paralyzing..." Chase continued and Mr. Davenport looked back at him, grateful that he didn't have to say anything for the moment and that the boy seemed to go on by his own choice.
"Every time I close the door it-... It feels like-..." Mr. Davenport saw his youngest frown as he tried to put words to the feelings... But maybe it wasn't the words that were the hard part. "It feels like I'm going to die."
Mr. Davenport actually flinched; luckily Chase was too focused on the floor to notice. He knew it was bad... He knew his son was scared and so. It was almost something to expect after an event like that. Things could have gone really bad really fast; they almost did too... But to have it put that blunt, it wasn't nice. He still didn't know what to do about it... What could he do?
"I-I... I can't breathe in there." Chase continued, his voice breaking slightly as the tears threatened to fall once more. "I just-... I can't breathe... It feels like I'm trapped again. Like everything is happening all over again, except-... Except I'm alone this time... There's no one there to help me... There's no one there to save me..."
Mr. Davenport quickly wipes at his own eyes -and yes, he would totally deny it if anybody asked- before he squeezes his son's shoulder again. The boy looked up at him and he saw that the tears indeed had begun falling again; slow silent tears slipped down the boy's pale cheeks. For a moment he forgot what he was going to say but then quickly shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
"It's okay." he said and didn't miss the roll of the eyes as Chase, for the umpteenth time that night, looks down at the floor. "We'll figure this out, okay?"
No reply.
"It's going to work out, given a little time and guidance." And perhaps some research in how to help your kid with traumatic stress. "But maybe you should stay up here for tonight?"
That surely got a reaction; hazel eyes full of... hope and fright?... looked up at him.
"You can stay in one of the spare bed rooms. If you want to that is."
Slowly Chase nodded.
"Yes, that-... I think I would like that." he said and smiled weakly, which caused Mr. Davenport to relax slightly. That was the first smile -despite how small it might be- that the boy had offered during the whole time on the couch. Maybe he was doing something right after all.
"It's getting late." Mr. Davenport said, not even daring to look at the clock; it was going to be a long day tomorrow. But it would be worth it.
"Maybe we should get back to bed?" he suggested and Chase stood up, seeming a bit relieved.
"But we'll figure this out, okay?" he asked, stopping the teen for a moment.
"Okay, Mr. Davenport." Chase said and he seemed to actually mean it.
"Good, now go get some sleep, you need it." Mr. Davenport said and gave his son a gentle pat on the back. Lots of emotions ran through the man as he watched the boy walk down the hallway.
"We'll figure this out." he mumbled to himself, before suddenly remembering why he was there. He had to unplug his latest invention, Tasha would kill him if it blew up the kitchen... again.
So what did you think? To be honest, I have wanted to write this one for a while now! :)
Reviews are like candy, and I love candy! :D
The next one will be a little "Mission Misfortune" I think ;) It's time for some more sibling love! And then the one after that will probably be a Chase and Douglas one! See you then! :) /Libra
