Wilson woke up early—5 a.m. to be exact. He always had. It's not like he had set up an alarm for that time—he was just a natural morning person. Perhaps it was because he took his time on things. By the time he showered and finished all of his morning routine, it was 8 a.m. and Wilson was just finishing the last minute creation of his meal. Well, his and Chase's meal.
Wilson had been extra quiet this morning, trying his best not to wake Chase up so the morning news on the television was out of the question as well as popping one of his 80's CDs in for a quick listen. On his way to the kitchen however his phone rang obnoxiously. Hoping that Chase hadn't heard, he ran to his phone and put it on vibrate.
"What time is it?" a groggy voice called from the sitting room couch.
Wilson hesitated, taken by surprise by his abrupt awakening. "Uh, 8:15."
"8:15?" Chase said in panic. "I…why didn't you wake me up?!" He got up frightened, his eyes moving around the sitting room in a frenzy. "I fell asleep on the couch!" he said more to himself than Wilson. "Why didn't you—"
"Chase I wasn't going to let you walk outside at night disoriented and tired for miles."
It took a while but Wilson sat down when the panic faded from Chase's expression and started eating. Just the usual scrambled eggs and toast. It was the only breakfast meal he was good at. It was when Chase came to join him that he realized that Chase just had a naturally big appetite. He ate his plate in a rush, but not because he was panicked. He didn't seem worried anymore. It was just his natural way of eating.
Wilson noticed that Chase kept pouring himself more cups of coffee that Wilson offered.
"You want me to make some more?"
Chase shook his head, politely declining. He did, however, accept the rest of the food on Wilson's plate.
"Man, I feel like crap." The Aussie said through a full mouth as he shoved food into it. Wilson found the slight lack of table manners to be charming and a little adorable; he was grateful that Chase was too preoccupied with eating to notice Wilson's staring. He was also grateful that Chase enjoyed something he made. Was Chase this content because of Wilson's cooking skills or the act itself? Knowing how sloppily he made the meal, Wilson chose the latter explanation. He wondered if House ever cooked for Chase. He wondered is House ever did anything for Chase.
Wilson heard Chase sigh and got out of his thoughts. "What am I gonna do Wilson?" He didn't even try to hide his worry about the situation. His smiled had faded.
"Just tell House that you were in a hotel or something."
"Are you kidding?" Chase exclaimed almost instantly. "I can't lie to House!"
"Well I know you don't want to but—."
"No I mean I can't lie to House." He put more emphasis on the word "can't". Reading Wilson's expression, he adjusted his statement. "It's not like I've tried or anything. He just…knows everything"
"Well what's the worst that could happen?" Wilson choked a little once he said the statement. He knew the real answer to it. Why did he even have to ask?
Chase didn't answer. Or rather he tried to answer but was diverted by something. "Man…my head is killing me."Chase said as he rubbed one of his temples as he ate. "Last night…I said a few things." Chase admitted as if remind Wilson of the preceding conversation.
"Don't worry about it…you were wasted." Wilson smiled and tried to laugh Chase's troubled face off. It seemed like the conversation's direction was going to bring him great discomfort.
"Exactly what did I say?" Chase now seemingly apprehensive about how much information he could have let out.
"Chase it's not that big of a deal."
"Please. Just tell me." Chase's eyes were big.
"Okay…" Wilson sighed "You just said you didn't like sex."
"Oh." Chase started biting his bottom.
"Why don't you? Hadn't you and House—?"
"I made a mistake telling you that." Chase said it quickly.
"What do you mean?" Wilson leaned in closer, making direct eye contact with the Aussie. He was actually hurt that Chase would feel the need to keep things from him. "You know you can tell me anything," he reassured, making Chase know that he was always there.
"No, that's not what I meant. What I meant was…" Chase's eyes became distant as if remembering something. "…I wouldn't really call it sex."
"Why?"
Upon hearing the inquiry, Chase's expression changed drastically. For that moment, Wilson could tell that he had asked the wrong question and immediately regretted it. He wanted Chase to think about that as least as possible when he wasn't at House's apartment. While away from that place he wanted Chase to take his mind elsewhere so he could keep being happy. But Wilson's curiosity got the better of him and now Chase's features were contorting to that of dread. And upon seeing this expression, Wilson decided something.
He no longer wanted to know.
He had made assumptions about the actions taken upon Chase but it had all seemed, in some way, surreal. He didn't want to hear what has been done to Chase to make him feel such a way. Also, he did not want to hear about the ways House had touched him period.
Was this the same thing he wanted to tell Wilson last night before they left the night bar? Either way, one thing disgusted him. Chase was wearing House's shirt. He knew all too well how Robert Chase dressed compared to House and the raggedy button down long sleeve shirt he wore untucked reflected House's characteristics.
"Just…won't." That was all Chase said to explain the awkward sentence.
"Okay."
"What is one thing you don't like?" Chase asked.
"I…don't like dreaming"
"Dreaming?" chase said with an incredulous tone. "Really? Why?"
Wilson paused as he tried to gather the right words to say. He hadn't really explained this to anyone—it was just a thought that he pondered on often. "It's the only place that I cannot control my actions." He stared into Chase's perplexed expression. Though Wilson could tell the other man was confused, Chase still listened to him and Wilson really appreciated that. "Dreams are a way you can get trapped into an unfamiliar place. It's unfamiliar because it is not created by you; it is created by the things you try to avoid during your waking hours. It is created by the dark thoughts that are locked away when you're conscious only to be released once your defenses are down."
A moment of intensity settled in the air as Chase nodded. "What do you dream about?"
That question caught Wilson by surprise. He hadn't expected Chase to be interested about something like that. "It's…hard to explain…"
"Try me," Chase ragged with a small grin.
Hesitant, Wilson finally relented. "Someone that I care about being in pain. Terrible terrible pain."
"So…you feel like you cause the pain or what?" Chase asked, taking another sip of the coffee. He no longer had a teasing tone. Just curious.
"Not necessarily. But it's always the same in all situations. The person in pain never get's saved—never is released from what's torturing him," Wilson said a little distant. His mind drifted off to the recent nightmares he had: Chase with House's cane in his mouth or Chase strapped onto the bed. Most of them involved House's walking cane, which made Wilson shiver.
Chase's loud sipping of the coffee brought Wilson out of it. There was a long pause before Wilson asked. "What about you?"
"Oh," Chase shrugged with a smile as he swallowed the last slurp of the drink. "Honestly, I haven't dreamt lately."
Wilson nodded. He eyed his watch and realized that it was almost time for work. He was getting ready to stand until Chase spoke up again.
"When I do though, it's a great escape."
'What are you escaping from?' Wilson wanted to ask but Chase was already preoccupied with the time himself.
"I gotta go." Chase said as he got up grabbed his jacket, heading for the door.
"Do you need a ride?" Wilson asked.
"I have to drop by House's apartment first. I left some things there. Plus, he might be worried about my whereabouts." Chase added a laugh at the end of the statement. It sounded forced.
Chase said bye and left, his warm smile lasting a long impression on Wilson even as he left the apartment. Wilson grabbed his own jacket and walked outside into the freezing air and felt his phone vibrate. It was a text from Chase. It read:
Thanks. For everything.
The text made him feel so humid in the midst of the stinging winter air. Perhaps he may not even need his jacket.
