I apologize in advance for all Medical/Australian/Roman Catholic mistakes.
The characters of House are not mine, and this hypothetical story of Chase's past is simply my own theory which will no doubt be proved completely wrong someday.
Don't sue me please, I'm not making any profit, this is done for fun, etc.
Part 1
To embrace the future, you must first accept the past.
Robert Chase snorted at the horoscope and tossed the newspaper away. Sipping his coffee as he prepared for work, he suddenly paused in the kitchen. He stared out the window over the sink, looking over the apartment complex parking lot, as the written words echoed in his head. Fortune telling was not something he believed in; something so complex as a being's life could not possibly be accurately predicted in his opinion. And yet the horoscope was eerie, considering what day it was…
"Ridiculous." He said to himself firmly. Finishing his coffee, he left the empty mug in the sink and grabbed his jacket before leaving for the hospital. Saving lives was not a job that waited for anything, not even the anniversary of his mother's death.
"Robert, are you ready to go to school?" The ten year old boy turned to stare at his father incredulously. It was not the question that had him so confused; he was finished with his cereal and already in his school uniform; it was the person asking that made him stare. Rowan Chase frowned as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Impeccably dressed for work, as always, he waited impatiently for his only son to answer him.
"Isn't Mum driving me to school today?" Robert asked slowly. The only time he could recall not being driven to school by his mother was when she had been in the hospital three years ago after a miscarriage and their former housekeeper had taken him. That time had been confusing and unpleasant for Robert and so the concern he felt at his father's unusual question was justifiable.
"Your mother is indisposed for the moment. If you're ready, let's go, I don't want to be late." was Rowan's brisk reply. The blonde haired boy obeyed his father instantly.
The unusual incident from the morning quickly left Robert's mind as the school day progressed. Unlike most children his age, he loved school. The feeling was mutual: Robert was bright and did well in all of his classes and he was popular with both students and teachers. So when he was called to the guidance office after lunch he merely felt curious rather than worried.
"Good afternoon Robert." The guidance counselor said cheerfully as Robert sat down at his desk. "Sorry to call you down here, we just wanted to make sure everything was ok at home." Robert blinked; he suddenly had an anxious, uneasy feeling, but tried to remain calm.
"Yeah sure, everything's fine." The guidance counselor studied him from behind thick spectacles for a moment before nodding slowly.
"Ok, good. It's just that your mother didn't come to the parent-teacher conference last week, and we can't reach her to re-schedule. She is home, right?" The adult's tone was light and casual, but Robert was becoming worried as his confusion grew.
"Of course she's at home." Remember his father's comment that morning, he suddenly relaxed. "She hasn't been feeling well, that's probably why she hasn't answered the phone or anything." While he had no idea if this were true or not, his mother had been in her room most of the weekend, as well as this morning, so it was a reasonable conclusion.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Well I hope she feels better soon; tell her to give us a call when she gets the chance. Thank you Robert." The guidance counselor grinned and stood up, indicating that Robert could leave.
"Sure, no problem." Robert replied before returning to his class.
Robert stayed after school to participate in a football match with some of his friends. The group consisted mostly of boys, with a few girls, and all of the children were eagerly waiting for the time when they could play on the high school team. Like almost everything else he did, Robert excelled at football and earned the admiration of his peers. When the game was over he waited for his mother to pick him up, it was normal for him to stay this late but as the other children began to leave there was no sign of her. Worried that he would be left alone at the school he asked a friend for a ride, making a joke about having forgotten to tell his mother to pick him up.
When he got home the house was quiet. The house was ridiculously large for only three people and Robert found most of the rooms uncomfortable, preferring his bedroom and the den to the rest of the building. In case his mother really was ill and resting, he entered quietly and tried not to shut the door too hard.
"Is that you dear?" His mother's voice came from the kitchen. Robert left his backpack in the hall and went to see her.
"Mum, are you alright?" He froze when he saw her. Her thin hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she was wearing a bathrobe over her pajamas. Dark circles were under her eyes and emphasized the paleness of her delicate face.
"I'm fine sweetheart." She sipped something from a glass and smiled at him. "Is your father here?" Robert shook his head.
"No, it's only five, he doesn't get back –"
"Until eight, I know." She interrupted. She frowned and took a few sips of her drink before saying anything else. "I suppose I've lost track of time. How was school?"
"Fine."
"That's good. Go do your homework; we'll eat dinner in an hour or so." She told him vaguely.
They didn't eat dinner in an hour. Robert finished his homework and played on his computer for several hours until he heard his father pull up to the house. Hoping his father had brought dinner with him, Robert eagerly raced to the top of the grand staircase. By the time he got there however, angry voices made him stop in his tracks.
Robert listened to his parents scream at each other and slipped one arm around the banister as he sat down on the top step. After awhile he began to doze and finally, he fell asleep. His neck ached from the painful position he'd slept in as Robert awoke the next morning. Robert listened anxiously but there were no sounds besides the soft ticking of a grandfather clock in a nearby room. Rowan Chase had returned to his office, or perhaps a hotel, to spend the night, while Robert's mother had locked herself in the master bedroom. Robert knocked gently on the door but there was no reply.
There was no one to give him a ride to school so he fixed himself a bowl of cereal and spent the morning watching television. The day went by slowly; there was no sign of his mother or his father. The housekeeper came by and fixed Robert lunch before cleaning the house and saying goodbye. Robert had the peculiar sensation that time stood still. He was incredibly bored and, not for the first time, he wished he had either an older sibling or a younger one. It would be such a relief to share these past troubling days with someone else. Wandering through the library he wondered if his parents would be fighting had his mother not lost the child those three years ago. His parents had never been exactly warm or tender, but as far as he could recall before the miscarriage they had at least seemed happy. Those weeks after his mother's hospitalization had been the first time he'd ever heard his parents raise their voices:
"You're a goddamn doctor Rowan! Why couldn't you have done something?" His mother had screamed hysterically one night.
"You're being irrational. I told you to take better care of yourself but you insisted on skipping your check-ups." Rowan had replied coldly.
"Don't you dare blame me for this! Don't you dare!"
And now Robert's parents could not have a conversation at dinner. They barely spoke to each other, usually directing their attention to Robert, or they ignored each other completely. Despite their domestic unease, their social life had continued as usual. In fact, if Robert recalled correctly, there was a dinner party scheduled for that very evening. His father had a reputation to keep as a well-respected doctor, and Robert hated these gathering filled with false cheerfulness and fake friendliness.
Robert spent the afternoon in his room alternating between reading and playing video games, both activities constantly being interrupted by phone calls from his concerned friends wondering why he had not gone to school. He was a little surprised when, at exactly six o'clock, his mother knocked on his door and appeared dressed elegantly and looking much more alert than the previous day, to tell him to hurry and get changed.
"The guests are already here, dinner will start in a few minutes." She shut the door behind her gently. Hoping things had gone back to normal now, Robert eagerly changed into a nice vest and pants before racing down the stairs to the dining room. A new crystal chandelier was being admired by his parents' friends and both Rowan and Robert's mother were mingling with their guests smoothly.
"Hello Robert, how was your day?" Rowan placed a hand on his son's shoulder. Robert smiled and was about to explain that he hadn't made it to school when it was announced that dinner was ready. "We'll chat afterwards, all right?" Rowan smiled and went to take his seat.
The dinner was going well until a sudden hush fell over the table. Robert had not heard his mother's remark but he could tell his father was trying very hard not to get into an argument in front of their guests.
"Oh forget it." His mother snapped. "You've always cared more about your stupid job than me." She threw her napkin on the table and left without a word to her guests. Rowan forced a smile.
"Please excuse me for just a moment." He stood and followed his wife out. The guests stared at them as they left awkwardly, and avoided looking at Robert. He tried to keep eating but he had lost his appetite and now struggled not to cry. As raised voices could be heard from somewhere down the hall a dark haired woman sitting next to Robert turned and smiled in a kind manner.
"So Robert, how are you doing dear?"
"Fine." He managed to say, not looking at her.
"Are you going to be a famous doctor like you're dad when you're grown up?" asked a man sitting across from him. All the adults were staring now and Robert was desperately thinking of a way to leave the room.
"No, no I don't think I want to be a doctor." He said softly, gaze locked on his plate. His answer left an awkward silence until the guests began murmuring among themselves, leaving Robert to stare at his food. He thought about the question asked of him and of the answer he'd given without a thought. No, he did not want to become a doctor. He loved his father but he did not want to be him.
"Your parents haven't come to church in two weeks Robert, have you been going to the boat on weekends?" Suddenly the attention was back on Robert as the dark haired woman tried to speak to him once more. Robert had no answer for her as he'd wondered why they had not gone himself. He enjoyed church as much as he enjoyed school; it was peaceful there, and the priest was always very kind to Robert, especially when it became clear that his parents would not speak to each other.
"We've just been busy." Robert replied. That was the last time any conversation was directed at him. His father returned to the room in awhile and tried to carry on the evening. The guests hurried out promptly at eight and Robert was left alone with his father. Rowan sighed and stared at his son with tired eyes. He spent long days working hard at the office and to come home to such a stressful atmosphere was grating on his nerves.
"Robert I need to talk to you." This was a phrase that, as a younger child, Robert had always associated with being in trouble. Was it somehow his fault that he had not gone to school? Robert remained frozen in his chair. "Robert, look at me when I'm speaking to you." Rowan's voice was still gentle and Robert slowly looked up at his father.
"Robert, you know your mother and I love you very much." Robert suddenly felt very ill and wished more than anything that he could run from the room. "However it seems that we, your mother and I, cannot love each other the way we used to, we cannot be together anymore. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He didn't want to understand. "We're going to get a divorce Robert. You don't need to worry, things won't really change much." He tried to smile at Robert but failed. "I just won't live here anymore, that's all. I'll be staying in an apartment near my office. We'll still see each other plenty and you'll still live here with your Mum." He waited for Robert's reaction. As Robert struggled to think of something to say, scarcely able to take all of this in, he heard his mother enter the dining room. She held a small bottle with shaking hands and looked from her husband to her son.
"You told him already?"
"I didn't think you'd be coming back down, and there was no point in waiting." Rowan said shortly. Her eyes flashed as she glared at him.
"Trying to make me the enemy in all of this, no doubt." She hissed.
"Mum, Dad." Robert said desperately, fighting back tears. "You can't get divorced. The Church won't allow it."
"Oh Robert dear, you're father's never really cared about religion. A little thing like eternal damnation won't get in his way."
"And which ring of Hell is reserved for alcoholics do you think?" Rowan thundered suddenly. The room was silent as the two adults glared at each other. Robert's mother drank from the small bottle defiantly.
"Whatever you say Rowan." She said finally, turning and leaving the room. Rowan watched her angrily before turning back to his son.
"Robert I'm very sorry you have to deal with all of this. I'll be staying at my apartment tonight and from now on." He took a pen from his pocket and scribbled something on a wrinkled piece of paper. "Here's my number, call anytime. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon." Robert nodded miserably. His fists were clenched under the table; he wanted to scream and rage at parents but knew it would do no good. Rowan stood up and kissed his son on the head.
"Try not to worry about this son, everything will resolve itself." He stood by his silent son awkwardly before patting his shoulder and leaving.
The dining room was now empty. Robert suddenly felt cold and could not stop shivering. He was helpless as the tears that had been held at bay for the past few hours now came streaming down his face. Never in his whole life had he felt so alone.