Another night was falling. Chase watched as darkness descended upon New Jersey, cloaking the buildings with her thick, heavy blanket. It was a clear night and soon one by one the stars would start to appear. Snow was falling, silently covering up everything; making all things clean and white and pure.

Suddenly Chase longed to be out there, to be covered. To be "purged with hyssop, washed whiter than snow". Still have a bit of the seminarian in you- don't you. Ah well... He stepped onto the balcony of his townhouse. Clad in a blazer, white button down shirt, and a pair of jeans he closed his eyes, shoved his hands into his pockets, and stood as still as he could. Trying not to think. Trying only to feel.

The winter wind whipped at his hair. He felt the snowflakes land softly, and steadily on his hair, his shoulders, his eyelashes...and everywhere. All was white and clean and peaceful. Normally, he could hear the sounds of cars and radios and alarms. Now for some reason the only thing that he could hear was the whoosh of the wind. Silent Night.

It was the perfect night to reflect. The holidays wouldn't be the same this year. He should ask House, actually better to ask Cuddy if he could be released from suspension a week early to cover the holiday shift. No sense in having someone that actually Had a family have to cancel plans. Well... have to cancel plans And have to work with House for the holidays.

At the thought of family, a shiver went through his body. Suddenly he was starting to feel a bit cold. The tips of his ears and his nose felt almost numb. A few flakes had managed to slide down underneath his shirt collar and his neck felt chilled as well. He sniffed as he felt his nose start to run a bit from the cold. Perhaps it would be best to go inside.

His throat had been starting to ache a bit earlier. So after he stomped off the snow onto the mat, Chase put on the kettle and got out some tea. As the kettle started to come to a boil, he turned off the burner, poured the water and brought the mug over to the couch.

As he dunked the tea bag he started to think about how things might be once he was able to come back. Things were still odd and rather awkward between himself and Cameron.

. She hadn't called or stopped by since "the incident". Not that he blamed her. She had enough to deal with. And he hadn't made it any easier. Foreman... Well he would just look at him with eyes that had judged him and found him lacking. But that he could deal with. It was just the mere Thought of getting that look from Dr. House that seemed to turn him into a 5 year old boy.

Why was that? Chase mused as a slowly sipped at his tea. As he was too preoccupied, he didn't even notice the tickle that had started to grow at the back of his sinuses and was slowing spreading. He didn't noticed until almost the last minute, when he hastily put down his mug- it's contents splashing a bit onto the table. He brought trembling hands up towards his face in time to meet two harsh sneezes. Chase sniffed a bit and brushed his golden brown bangs out of his face.

Would seeing House again be good or bad? Somehow thinking of Dr. House reminded Chase of his father-, which was generally a mixed bag as well. And now that he no longer Had a father- Chase supposed that he had better resolve his father issues. He hadn't really given himself a chance even to think about the fact that his father had died since he day that he found out. Immediately after finding out he had been plunged into another case and then there were complications and then her death and then the disciplinary board. There hadn't been time. But now all there was was time.

Chase felt his nostrils start to prick again, but this time he was ready. He breathed slowly in and out through his nose and felt the tickles start to build. His eyelashes fluttered and his green-blue eyes grew blurry. He lifted up his golden head, then sneezed three times into the crook of his arm. He sniffed again and sighed. It was too silent. Nothing good ever came from this much silence.

Chase went over to the stereo and turned it on. There that's better- maybe I can think about something else like shopping or rounds or the next case that I'll have when I get back. It worked for a while. He listened to excerpts from the Messiah, and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas", and "Santa Claus is coming to Town" all without incident. A sniffle or two here and there, and a few sneezes muffled into Kleenex but his mind was free; floating to the things that needed to be done or could be done and not mired in the past. He just lay on the couch lying his head against the cushions.

But then he heard it. Bing Crosby crooning... "I'll be home for Christmas. You can count on me" He tried to get up to turn the station, but the memories swept over him before he was able to get there.

He was 10. Mom was crooning along with Bing as she sipped her G&T and waited for his father to get home. She told him that the song always gave her hope that no matter how busy Rowen got at the hospital, that he would always be back home to celebrate with them. Suddenly Rowen entered the room with a bouquet of red and white roses. "May I have this dance?" he asked. She nodded and set the record player back to the beginning of the song- their special Christmas song. He saw their heads nestled close together, hand on hand, lights twinkling. The smell of pine, cigars and Old Spice, of lavender and gin. The feeling of a moment of peace and love and tranquillity.

Suddenly Chase was jolted back to reality by the persistent tickle in his nostrils. He turned and sneezed into his elbow. Why was it that holiday colds seemed to feel worse than any other kind? He shook his head and blinked as if to clear his head. Then suddenly more memories came.

He was now 15. Dad was gone- Mom had completely given up and crawled into her bottle of Gin. She was singing along with Bing again, but this time she was slurring the words. This time instead of a neat glass of G&T on the rocks with a twist of lime stirred with a swizzle stick, she drank the gin straight from the bottle. "C'mon…dass wit yar mum. C'mon Bobby." He remembered shaking his head and feeling his stomach turn. "C'mon!" she said, slapping his face and then immediately smoothing her hand over it- tears filling her eyes. "I'm sorry…. I'm sorry…. I just…. I miss him Bobby" She started weeping. He remembered going over to her and calming her "It's O.K. mum. I'd love to. I'll rewind the cassette. Please don't cry. It'll be alright. I'm here." Their song. Chase saw her trembling hands in his, her red eyes and nose, which he was certain, matched his red cheek. The pine masked by the overpowering smell of gin. The feeling of being cold and alone. Feeling responsible and guilty and not knowing what to do or where to go.

The pressure behind his eyes and his sinuses brought him back to reality. His temples were throbbing and he was feeling like the weight of the world was starting to crash down on him. Chase went and popped a couple of ibuprofen and sat down next to the Christmas tree. He slowly breathed in and out. They were deep shuddering breaths, as he tried to ground himself. The smell of pine pricked the back of his nostrils- teasing him. It was just enough to irritate not enough to sneeze. His eyelashes fluttered like butterflies above watery blue-green orbs. He scrubbed at his nose with his knuckle. It was still there. He put his head down into his lap and his golden locks swept lightly in front of his face. Suddenly he raised his head and after two trembling inhales of breath he sneeze violently three times into his cupped hands. With the force of the last sneeze his hand knocked at a branch hanging nearby. Out of the corner of his watery eyes he saw the ornament falling, but he couldn't do anything. Like a metaphor of my life. Knocked off kilter, spinning out of control, I'm helpless to do anything. Crash!

Chase went to pick up the pieces of the glass ornament that he had knocked over, and cut his hand. Suddenly he couldn't stop the memories from bombarding him. His mom drunk and crying, his dad leaving- cold and distant, House's eyes probing trying to dig at his secrets, the little girl with cancer who had wanted a kiss before she died, the look of disgust of Foreman's face, Cameron's eyes- wild with desire, and fear, and need and then afterwards her eyes full of shame and regret. The girl whose death he felt he had caused leaving her boys motherless. All these pictures, images and impressions of all these different people, were swirling in his mind. Then they all started to blur together.

Suddenly he felt moisture on his cheek and wondered how it got there. Then the other cheek. Suddenly it all came out like a torrent. All the things that he had keep so bottled up had pushed to the back of his mind. Pushed and pushed. Stuffed and stuffed. Until they all exploded. And here he was with a bleeding finger, a ruddy miserable cold, a broken ornament, and tears coursing down his cheeks. Great heaving sobs wracked his body as he curled into a ball and slowly rocked back and forth, like he used to do as a child when he was too afraid of things that children shouldn't think about.

Then the night grew silent- except for his sobs.

Three staccato raps on the door broke the silence. Who in the hell would that be? Chase cleared his throat and yelled "Coming!" toward the closed door. He quickly splashed a bit of water on his face and dried it with a towel. Then three more raps came as he was making his way over. "I Said… I'm coming." He muttered as he opened the door, and then just stopped. It couldn't be! He had to be hallucinating.

"You Could invite a person in you know. At least that is the custom here in the States. Not sure what you people consider proper etiquette over There."

Chase cleared his throat again. "Um… yeah…. Well… come on in Dr. House."

"So…." Said House upon entering. "Have any good liquor?"

Chase didn't trust his voice- merely shook his head. He still couldn't even fathom how or why this was happening.

"That's right. Silly me, I went to the duckling who is the teetotaler, just cause mummy fell of the wagon."

Chase's hands automatically clenched but he maintained his composure and offered House something else to drink. "So why are you here?" he finally asked.

House shrugged expansively. "Nothing good on TV. And I wanted to catch up with the missing member of my crew."

Chase quirked an eyebrow at the last bit. Since House was available, Chase figured that he might as well try to bring up the holiday rotation. "Ummm…. Have you given any thought to…"

"Why you might have been crying your eyes out, why yes I had. I just figured that the looking glass had finished telling you that someone Else was now the prettiest boy."

Chase flushed both from anger and from embarrassment. Fortunately his nose for once had a good sense of timing. He held up a hand, grabbed for a couple of Kleenex and directed three harsh, wet sneezes into their depths. "'Cuse be." He sniffed congestedly.

House ignored him. "So what's the problem? Why all the boo-hooing? Girl problems? Bad hair day? All out of Marmite?"

"I habben to hab caught a code. And I…." His voice started to hitch again. But it was stubborn and wouldn't come. "I'b just been hobe feeling less than berfect." He turned away and quietly blew his nose.

"Yeah… I'm sure that explains everything. Except broken ornaments, and red rimmed eyes."

Chase decided to counter back, "And unexplained visitors. I'll tell you if you tell me why you Really came."

"You caught me. I just Had to have a look at those golden locks. I thought that maybe I could persuade you to sit on my lap and tell me that you've been a naughty boy."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Fine. I put up the tree, found out the hard way that I'm allergic to pine, and dropped the last ornament while sneezing." He had to keep his face straight and maybe he'd let it pass.

"Which would explain your lack of a reaction currently, and why you have so many ornaments."

Chase's nose started to twitch again "Heh…. Eh…. Ehhhhh….. " It was still stuck, and was really irritating.

"Try the light. Honestly." House grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Chase drew his eyes cautiously up toward the light, and the sensation grew. His jaw grew slack and he threw his head back and gave into a fit of three sneezes in a row, which kept him bent over. He sniffed, "thaks." His was still thick and the "n" didn't quite come out.

Then Chase decided to try to be honest; at least as much honesty as he could feel comfortable with given how emotionally fragile he felt. He was so drained and so tired, and didn't want to think anymore. He couldn't keep up their normal little "dance". Chase sighed, distractedly ran his fingers through his hair, and said in a hoarse and slightly congested voice "I was thinking about the past. Dr. House, what if….what if I just don't want to tell you? Would you punish me? Would you want me to ask you about your past relationships, your medical mistakes, your relationship with your parents?"

House shrugged, and started to look for the remote for the stereo. He turned it on and as the music softly played in the background, he sat just looking at the tree. Chase just stood watching House uncertainly, not quite sure what to do. Finally Chase sensed that the questioning and probing was over- for the moment. Then he sat down and watched the tree as well. The soft glow in the darkness, it was soothing.

"Here," said House handing over a handful of tissues as Chase's face started to take on a slackened look. Chase grabbed the tissues with trembling hands and a grateful nod and proceeded to sneeze into them several times.

"Bless." House murmured quietly.

Then they both went back to gazing at the tree. Both wrapped in their own thoughts and feelings, but both feeling, at least for the moment, calm and hopeful. Neither even realized that the stereo was still on. And as they sat, it played….

Silent Night. Holy Night.

All is calm. All is bright.

Round yon Virgin mother and child

Holy infant so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace

Sleep in heavenly peace.