SO YOU HAD A BAD DAY...part 7
Chase wanted the day to be over. Three weeks had passed since Andi's passing. Three weeks during which House had treated him differently. Or maybe that was just his own perception of things. House wasn't one to back away from anyone or anything, but it felt to Chase like his boss was avoiding him. Which was making him paranoid as hell and he really hated that feeling. A part of Chase was beginning to expect that House had something planned. That he was going to dump something on him or ridicule him in some new and horrifying way, guaranteed to humiliate him to the extreme. He didn't have the energy to deal with anything like that. Not now. He was too tired and feeling too raw. At least it wasn't tired in the way it had been. As of two weeks ago, he'd managed to fall back into his normal sleep patterns, so goodbye insomnia.
He only wished he knew what had changed to allow him to sleep now, but he figured maybe it was best to just go with the flow and accept that he was sleeping again.
As he reached for his coat his cell phone rang. "Chase," he answered.
"Hello, Robert, it's me," Danielle replied. "Bad news. I'm not going to be able to make dinner tonight. Patient emergency."
"No problem," Chase assured her. This was something they were both familiar with and there were never any hard feelings between them for putting their jobs first. In fact, things were going far better with Danielle than he had expected them too. Well enough that he'd moved some of his things into her place. A few change of clothes, toothbrush, hair brush and toiletries that were neccessities. It wasn't exactly moving in, but it was close enough to offer a strange kind of comfort. At the same time, Chase knew it could end tomorrow and he'd be okay with that. They would both simply move on, and knowing that to be the truth, Chase found himself able to relax and enjoy his time with Danielle. He'd even gone so far as to tell her some stories about himself, mainly because she never pushed him into talking, she just let it happen or not.
"So I'll see you later?" Danielle asked.
Chase was silent a moment, considering. "I think I'll head home tonight," he told her. "Go to bed early."
Danielle didn't even pause in her reply. "Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow then. Gotta go." She hung up.
Closing his phone, Chase slipped it back in his pocket. He didn't regret not hooking up with Danielle tonight. He really was tired and he was rather looking forward to some down town. Maybe he'd catch up on one of the dozens of movies he'd collected and hadn't yet taken out of the cellophane.
"Chase!"
He started at the sound of his name, turning to see House standing in his office doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago and it disturbed Chase a bit to realize House had snuck up on him. "It's late," he said. "Get someone else to run tests, or whatever it is you want me to do."
House studied him a moment, then he jerked his head towards his inner office. "We need to talk."
"About what?" Chase asked, to House's back. So he went into the office and stood in front of the desk, watching as House settled himself into his chair. "What have I done now?" He tried to think back over the days event and he couldn't think of anything.
"What makes you think you screwed up?" House countered, looking intrigued.
Chase decided not to answer that particular question, instead he just stared at House until the other man was shifting under his regard. Which was kind of cool. Chase didn't know he had the power to make House uncomfortable.
After a long moment of drawn out silence, House cleared his throat and said, "Do you think God saved me?"
"What?" Chase stared at House, feeling a wave of confusion wash over him. When House wasn't more forthcoming he responded with, "What are you talking about?"
"When I was shot." There was a definite implied Duh in House's tone.
Chase shook his head at him. "You're asking me if I think God saved you when you were shot?" He wanted to make sure he understood what was going on here, although he was pretty sure he would never fully understand House. Not that he was sure if he even wanted to understand him. Apparently it was going to be a moot point, since House simply stared back at him, instead of replying.
But Chase was good at the waiting game, so he did just that. He waited until House was forced to speak again, if only to kick him out.
"Why do you believe in god?" Was what House asked instead.
"I can't answer that." Chase didn't even hesitate. He just shook his head at House for even asking such a ridiculous question. Although he supposed that there were people who could answer it, readily enough. He just wasn't one of them and he thought House would know that.
House shifted in his chair, reaching for the ball on his desk and tossing it from hand to hand. "Why can't you answer that?" he countered, his voice sounding a bit strained. "You considered becoming a priest, which suggests you believe in god. What makes you believe in him?"
Chase was quiet for a long moment, trying to decide how to answer House. "Faith," he said finally. Which wasn't really an answer, but it was all he had.
"Faith?" House echoed, looking confused and not bothering to hide it. "Faith makes you believe in god?"
"We can't explain everything," Chase replied, feeling suddenly serene and confidant in what he was saying. "We have to take some things on faith. There's no greater test of faith than believing in god's existence."
House nodded at that, still tossing the ball from hand to hand. "And yet you became a doctor and not a priest. You traded faith for science."
Chase shrugged at that, because he couldn't discount what House was saying. And because he really didn't have an answer to it anyway.
"Did daddy dearest make you become a doctor?" House prompted, setting the ball aside and pinning his electric blue gaze on Chase's face.
"I'm going home," Chase replied, because no way in hell was he having this conversation with House. But he was curious enough to counter with a question of his own. One that had been burning on his tongue since this conversation began. "Are you asking me about god because you need something to believe in? Or because you can't figure out why the grim reaper didn't claim your soul when he had the chance?"
House chuckled. "Interesting choice of wording," he acknowledged. "Only the good die young, you know."
Chase did know. He knew it was a stupid fallacy. "Goodnight, House," he said softly, turning to go. He was glad when House let him leave without another word. But he didn't go home. He went to a movie so he could put off thinking about what House had asked him. But when he finally came home and went to bed, he stared at the ceiling for a long time, refusing to pray tonight. Refusing to give in to the instinct that made him believe in spite of himself. Because praying just made him feel guilty and he was tired of the guilt. He only wished he was tired enough to sleep. Resolutely he closed his eyes and thought about Danielle. Tomorrow night he would see her. Tomorrow night he would sleep again.
OoO
Three days later, Tritter came into their lives and things spiralled out of everyone's control. It wasn't something that affected Chase directly, not until Tritter decided to question him and Cameron and Foreman. Then the bastard did everything in his power to put suspicion on Chase and he didn't know how to fight against it. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why he felt the need to even try. He didn't care about what Foreman and Cameron thought about him, only he did want them to believe he was innocent. It mattered to Chase for reasons he didn't want to think about.
So he threw himself into work instead, managing to follow in House's footsteps when House faltered. He figured out what was wrong with Alice, only to receive a punch in the face for his troubles. Which he could have lived with, accepted even, without a single ripple in the flow of his life, if only House had acknowledged what he had done. All House had to do was say he was right. He didn't even have to apologize, because Chase had already forgiven him the punch. He had grown up with an alcoholic mother. He knew what pain did to a person, how it made them lash out at people. He should seen it coming and ducked. Oddly enough, the bruise hurt less than the truth. House didn't give a shit that Chase was right. Being right didn't change anything. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that. He wasn't sure he wouldn't finally walk away. Not run this time, but walk away without looking back.
Instead he ran into Wilson in the break room and he told him what happened, which freaked Chase out a bit. He and Wilson had barely said two words to each other in all the time Chase had been working for House, and now it was Wilson who was offering him words of wisdom with a touch of sympathy. Chase wasn't sure how to react.
"Did you get that looked at?" Wilson queried, his eyes locked on the bruise on Chase's jaw.
"It's fine," Chase replied, taking his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and dumping it in the trash. Food wasn't going to make him feel better. He didn't know if there was anything that would. He felt wired and jittery and like he wanted to punch something. Or someone.
Wilson watched him for a moment, and when Chase headed for the door, he cut him off. "Let's go for a beer," he offered.
That was the last thing Chase expected him to say and he wasn't sure how to respond. But he did know that the way he felt right now meant it was not a good time to be drinking. Chase had learned from his mother's example. So he looked at Wilson and shook his head. "I don't think a beer is a good idea," he stated.
"Are you taking something for the pain?" Wilson asked, slipping fully into doctor mode as he leaned in to study the bruising. "It's already swelling too."
"I know. It's fine." Chase stepped back, putting more space between them. "Thanks." He appreciated the fact that Wilson at least seemed concerned about him. It was more than he was used to getting, from anyone.
Moving further back, Wilson nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated. Then he sighed and blurted out, "What are you going to do?"
Chase didn't even pretend not to understand the question. Wilson wanted to know what he was going to do about House and the punch. He let himself think about it for a moment. What was there to do? He had saved the little girl and he felt good about that. He had wanted House to acknowledge he was right, but that wasn't going to happen and he had to accept it. So what else was there? House was suffering enough as it was, and Chase knew it wasn't over for him by a long shot. So he looked at Wilson and said, "Nothing. I'm going home." He made it to the door and all the way through without Wilson interfering.
Once he was home, Chase took a shower. He studied the bruise, fingering it slightly, wincing at the pain. He stared at the aspirin bottle then ignored it. He wanted to feel the hurt. He wanted it to be a reminder to himself. House would never give him what he needed, so he needed to let it go. He needed to put it behind him. Maybe it was time to move on.
He climbed into bed and turned on the tv and he drifted off to sleep and to dreams of his father.
OoO
It had been a shock to everyone to learn that Wilson had ratted House out to Tritter. Chase understood what Wilson was trying to do. He failed in his attempt of course, because House sabotaged everything. In the end it was Cuddy who saved the day, all the while believing that she owned House now. She just didn't get it and Chase knew she wouldn't believe anyone who tried to explain it to her. House would always be in control of his own fate and the fate of those around him. It was a lesson they all should have learned by now. He figured he hadn't, since he was still there.
Three months after Tritter was gone from their lives, House called Chase into his office. He stood before House's desk, trying not to fidget, waiting while House finshed a level on his gameboy.
"Time's almost up," House said, as he set the game aside.
"Excuse me?" Chase was more than a little confused.
House looked up at him. "You're fellowship is almost up. You going to sign up again?"
Chase narrowed his gaze at House, because the question had sounded almost like a challenge. "I have two months left to decide," he countered. Truth was, he'd been avoiding having to think about it. Cuddy had cornered him a couple of weeks ago, letting him know that he had a place in ICU if he wanted it, but she'd been pretty vague about what the actual offer was.
"You have until tomorrow morning," House countered, shoving a piece of paper across the desk at him. "Here's the offer, one time only." He pushed the paper again and it flew off the desk.
Pausing to glare at House, Chase bent to pick it up. He turned away to glance it over and felt his eyes go wide. "This is an offer as attending in diagnostics!" he exclaimed.
House snorted. "See. I told Foreman you British chaps can read English."
"There's never been an attending in Diagnostics," Chase stated, because he was trying to wrap his mind around what House was offering. "It's not an actual department." He said it to remind House of that fact, in case he'd forgotten. Or in case this was some elaborate joke at his expense.
"It is now," House replied. "I blackmailed Cuddy into it. Wasn't all that hard really. She likes me." He said the last bit with a leer.
Which Chase ignored. "Is this a real offer?" He waved the paper at House.
To his credit, House did nothing but smile and nod. "But understand what it means," he said sharply. "More responsibility all the way around. You'll be over Cameron and Foreman, which they'll both hate. And you'll take the fallout for their mistakes."
"Shit still runs downhill," Chase reminded him. Because, ultimately, all blame should still fall on House.
"Depends on the angle," House replied, smirking. "So what's it gonna be? Yes or no?"
Once again, it sounded like a challenge. Chase hated being challenged, but he knew the answer to this one was imprinted on his soul. "Yes," he replied.
House didn't look the least bit surprised. "Sign on the bottom. As of tomorrow morning you're officially in training. Don't tell Foreman or Cameron about it because I want them to be surprised. Got it?"
"Got it." Chase pulled out a pen and signed with a flourish. He then handed over the paper and resisted the urge to snatch it back. He was going to do this. He was going to prove that he could. To himself. This wasn't about proving anything to House anymore. At least, he hoped it wouldn't turn out to be that.
"You'll have more paperwork to fill out with Cuddy," House was saying. "She'll drag you into her office for that and no doubt give you a speech, after she tries to convince you not to take the job. I'm sure she'll try to talk you into running as far away from me as you can, as fast as you can. But you can't do that now since you signed your life away to me."
Chase almost smiled at that. "I didn't sign in blood," he pointed out.
House shrugged. "Close enough. Now go run some tests or something."
"We don't have a patient," Chase replied.
"Find one then. Something interesting." House was already back to playing his gameboy.
Chase realized he was smiling as he left the office. He felt as if a weight, he didn't even know he'd been carrying, had been lifted off his shoulders. He only hoped he wouldn't live to regret his decision. Instead of dwelling on that, he headed for the clinic to find a patient. He was going to be an attending diagnostician. It was time to challenge House a little.
OoO
It was three am and Chase couldn't sleep. He had invited Danielle over to his place for dinner. They had eaten, watched a movie, had fantastic sex and she had fallen asleep in his arms. But he was wide awake. Carefully he slid out of bed and pulled on sweat pants, then he padded into the livingroom.
Grabbing the phone, Chase dialled a number he had recently memorized. After three rings the voicemail answered. He waited a moment then left a message. "Hi, Olivia. It's Robert. I just wanted to let you know I signed the papers. I..I'm sure you already know that since the lawyer sent them to you. Um..." He paused, considering hanging up, then blurted out, "Thanks. I just..I wanted to say that." Making a face, Chase hung up, hoping that she wouldn't take the message as a sign to call him back. He wasn't even sure what made him make the call in the first place. Maybe the need to finish something his father had left undone.
Tossing the phone aside, Chase crawled back into bed. He curled into Danielle and closed his eyes.
He fell asleep five minutes before the alarm would go off.
Danielle turned it off and let him sleep.
THE END