Notes: Thanks for all the reviews! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
Life is bigger, bigger than you and you are not me. The lengths that I would go to, the distance in your eyes. "Losing my Religion by REM"
After bribing some nurse whose name was of no importance to him to make sure that House was to be left alone until he allowed so, he entered Chase's room. He felt his right leg tighten in guilt as he saw Chase lying unconscious in the bed in front of him. An IV was hooked up to him, giving him drips of morphine, of course there were the other medical craps monitoring his heart, breathing, basically everything. One thing that caught his attention was that Chase was bare-chest; half his chest and his left shoulder was wrapped up in a white bandage and tighten up in a sling. He wondered what color the Aussie's skin was beneath that.
House suddenly wished he was home. He wanted to be anywhere but here. But somehow he found that he couldn't even will himself to leave. He almost lost his balance and he managed to slip easily into the hospital chair next to Chase's bed. Before he leaves, he needed to call Wilson and have him bring a cane. There was no way House was going to make it out of the room on his own. He was surprised he managed to limp well on his own this far. Maybe the adrenaline and the fear finally wore off.
He watched Chase's chest move up and down and he found himself counting his breathing. It sounded normal. Good. He glanced over Chase and then his eyes landed on his hair.
He chuckled as he remembered when he hired Chase. It was only pretty face and him for almost half a year. He remembered the day before Robert Chase's interview when his father, Rowan Chase called him. Asking him not to hire Chase. Apparently, the man believed that his son was wasting his talent in America and should return to Australia to follow his father's footsteps. He heard of Rowan Chase from some book he read in the past but at the moment House didn't care. He knew that this applicant's father was well known and with that Chase name he could have easily applied to any hospital in Australia and get a job. Instead he came here. House's curiosity rose and he became committed to find out the true reason why Chase was running so far from home. Perhaps it was because he did not want to be in daddy's shadows anymore or maybe because he wanted a challenge when he applied for a job. House smirked as he hanged up the phone.
Chase was hired without an interview. Instead of meeting with House that day, Chase had walked into his office to a note that said: "You're Hired. Go to clinic room and do my hours."
He still wished to this day that he was there to see Chase's reaction.
They finally met two days later when Chase was making coffee in the diagnosis room. House had barged in, heading towards the white board, "Differential diagnosis. Twenty-five year old male, claiming he is from Australia but his accent demands otherwise…yes young British male I reckon, and hired because his father made a phone call demanding…"
"You hired me because of my father?!" Chase snapped his accent thick.
House almost smirked but contained it, "Well, he is to thank and…" he trailed off as he watched Chase placed his red coffee cup down and grabbed his messenger bag. "Where do you think you are going? I'm not done."
"Forget it. I quit."
After two days? House groaned he was going to be the shortest anyone ever lasted. He reached out and grabbed the young man by the shoulder, "Hey, your father called me. I don't know how he found out but…"
"I don't want to be hired because of my father." Chase glared hard at House, his mind already set. He reached for the door but stopped as House called out to him.
"Robert." It was probably the only time House ever called him by his first name, "Use your brain, I'm afraid your pretty hair is affecting your judgment." He continued after Chase's scoffed hi s back still to him. "No matter where you go, your father is going to follow you. Are you going to spend your entire life running from your father's shadows? Now, you can either believe that I hired you for your applications and experiences. Or you can choose to believe that I hired you because of your father. I don't care which you choose, but think about this, you will probably never get this opportunity again, and you'll lose a chance to learn from the great diagnostician of all time. Cuddy will confirm that."
Chase let out a small chuckle and House was glad for once someone laughed at his sense of humor. "Now, young Bond, we actually do have a case!"
Chase turned around, "I'm Australian."
House gave him a look of disbelief, "Sure you are. Your pretty hair begs to differ."
That was the only time House could remember that Chase ever had a backbone. Every insult, every abuse House gave him since then, Chase only laughed at it or just took it. The only time he ever corrected House was due to his ethnicity. But there was one thing that made up for that. Chase was different that many of those that came through before. He helped House get to the diagnosis faster. Sure, the kid never actually solved one, but he had the ability to think outside of the box. The place where House was at most of the time. He was surprised at his Intensivist, he wasn't expecting Robert Chase. He was expecting Rowan to shine through him. However, Chase proved to be nothing like his father. The more time they spent on a case together, the more House wanted to hire more people. He felt that with more people around, they could push Chase to think more cleverly outside of the box and perhaps to bring out his other hidden skills.
After hiring Cameron, he found that Chase was a better people reader. He decided to think beyond the moral of the cases. After hiring Foreman, he found that Chase stretch out further outside the box and that Chase not only agreed with House to ass-kiss him but because he believed there was a possibility that House could be right.
Even after all this, House was still not impressed. This kid spent a half a year with him already and he hasn't done anything or suggested anything that took House by surprise or something that House wouldn't have thought of later. Until a few weeks after he hired Foreman.
They had a case where a teacher had a tapeworm in her head and they were waiting for her permission to remove it. She didn't believe them and decided she would rather go home and die. He kept thinking over and over how to prove to her that the tapeworm was real and that she had a chance to live when Chase suggested something.
X-ray her leg. There might be another tapeworm there because they love thigh muscles. If she has one in her leg, she has one in the brain.
That was the day Robert Chase passed House's test. From that moment, House pushed him harder than he ever did before. Harder than Foreman. Harder than Cameron.
He never really knew why he bothered so hard with Chase. When Volger came along, House believed he could use the excuse to fire him. He believed that Chase was ready. Only Chase proved to him that he wasn't. He still had more to learn. Even after his betrayal, House was still bitter and wanted to fire him. He changed his mind when Wilson tried to convince him to. If everyone wanted him fire, than House was going to keep him.
Boy, was he glad he did. The boy surprised him even more by surpassing House's expectations of him with a quick rate.
He remembered a week after he had punch Chase that in the future, he realized that Chase was going to become a better diagnostician than Cameron, than Foreman…..than him.
He shook his head to clear his mind and shuffled the hospital chair closer to the bed. Leaning back and placing his right leg on the mattress, he dropped his head back and decided to sleep. It was going to be awhile before the wombat woke up.
--
He was nothing.
That was how Robert Chase viewed himself: a nobody, a pathetic piece of existence, someone that was not worth living. His whole life people had high expectations of him, mostly due to his father. They expected a perfect GPA; he was only two points away. They expected him to be a football star; a hard working player that played with a lot of heart never received any awards or credit. They expected him to pass the SATS with a perfect score; he was only one hundred points down. They expected him to internship with his father before college; he went off to the seminary. They expected him to follow into his father's footsteps, he ran off to American to seek a different job in another world.
They were always disappointed. No one was ever proud of him; he could never reach their expectations. He was always trying so hard to please people, not because he wanted to prove them right or wrong, because he wanted for once someone to look him in the eye and for once see how proud they were of him. Every eye that ever looked upon him was filled of disappointment. Even his own eyes, as he stared at his own reflection in the mirror each morning, was fill of disappointment. How could he ever amount to anything?
How could he get up each morning and be able to even look at himself in the mirror without turning quickly away in shame. How could he be proud of his own self?
He gave everything he ever had, everything, and he was still…nothing.
He almost had given up. Running away to America was his last choice, he figured if he ran away from everything that was trapping him, if he finally broke free, for once he could take pride in himself. Chase could stare at himself in the eye and stand tall with confidence.
He remembered the first day he met Gregory House. He had already been hire by the man and started working, but never actually met him until a couple days later. The man had stormed in while Chase was making himself some coffee, sprouting out a differential. He remembered how he froze as the older man mentioned receiving a phone call from his father.
The bastard was still trying to trap him, it seemed no matter how far he ran, his father was always there, surrounding him. For once in his life he wanted to live up to his own expectations, not anyone else but his. If he got this job because of his father, he wasn't going to work there.
House caught him before he stormed out of the door trying to stop him but Chase would have none of it. But something made him halt in his tracks. House had called him by his name. Robert. No one has ever called him by his first name for as long as he could remember. Hearing House say his name made Chase feel that he was no longer Rowan Chase's son but Robert Chase, a man with his own potentials. He remembered House's words clearly…but it was hearing his name that convinced him to stay. What made him committed was what Chase saw in those deep blue eyes as he came back into the room and jumped onto the next case.
Pride.
House was proud of a decision that Chase made for himself. Not because Chase fulfilled House's expectations but because Chase was willing to live up to his own expectations and no one else's.
Still old habits die hard, he was still an ass-kisser. But then again…who to say that was really him. It was his mask, something he wore to the people he worked with, no one really knows what underneath his mask when he took it off. The real Robert Chase.
He hoped though that he hadn't wore the mask for too long because sometimes if one wears a mask for a long time…it becomes your own face…becomes your true self.
Chase knew it was time. Time to start taking the mask off.
Being a doctor made it easier for Chase to look in the mirror, even though he did not look away, the eyes held shame.
A small stab of pain in his shoulder brought him back. The darkness was slowly slipping away. No…he didn't want to lose the darkness, he felt safe in it, he wanted to be consumed by it once again.
But as always…he was left disappointed.
--
House awoke by something poking him. Annoyed, he raised one lid to murder whoever was awaking him from his deep slumber. Nothing. Curiosity made him sit up and felt something poke at his foot once more. He noticed something on top of his right leg that was propped up on top of Chase's bed; a dark brown wooden cane. Wilson must have placed it there, he was going to have to yell at the nurse for doing a horrible job holding people at bay. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost eight in the morning. His other ducklings would be arriving any moment now to start their new day at work. He knew he had to leave soon to stop them from parading into Chase's room shooting questions and he knew the last thing Chase wanted was Cameron goo-goo goggling all over him as if he was a broken puppy.
As he was placing his right leg back onto the floor, he heard a soft groan. Moving his eyes towards Chase, he realized the wombat was waking up. Chase's eyelids fluttered open and House watch the young man's pupils adjust to the darkness of the room. House had kept the light off and kept the shade close, hoping that maybe it may hide him. He knew Chase was a good observant and he didn't want Chase reading him right now. House could tell that his mask was close to breaking right now. He did not want Chase to slip through the cracks and see what was underneath.
He braced himself as Chase's eyes landed on him, registered him.
"House?" Chase coughed; his throat was dry and hoarse. Water…he wanted water.
"Stupid wombat. You have to be the most idiotic person I've ever met," House growled, getting up onto his feet. His leg screamed in pain announcing it was time for some Vicodin but House ignored it. He needed answers and he needed them now.
"You know, that's not the first time you've said that to me. I'm already immune to it now." Chase retorted softly, trying to sit up in the hospital bed as he coughed again, "why are the lights off?" he realized.
House ignored the last part, "Oh well this time, you've really crossed the line with your stupidity!"
"Oh this is coming from the drongo who was basically begging the bastard to shoot him!" Chase winced as his yelling erupt pain from his wounds.
"You know a normal person would dodge away from a bullet not towards it!"
"Oh forgive me," Chase waved his good arm, "for a second I thought I was Superman and had magical powers to stop the bullet!"
"Yah you are an idiot and a nutcase!"
House knew this had to be a dream; he had to be in an episode of Twilight Zone or X-files or something. This was not the Chase he knew. The Chase he knew would not take a bullet for him, the Chase he knew would not be acting like a nutcase right now.
What happened to his ass-kisser, the man who took whatever came his way and acted like it didn't affect him? Maybe he was doped up on too much morphine.
"What are you doing here?" he heard Chase mumbled as the wombat struggled again to sit up in his bed, he was having difficulty without the use of his left arm.
"Funny," House snip, "I was about to ask you the same."
"Well from what I recall I think a bullet got me in here." Chase was starting to get annoyed. Why was House here and why was he so angry?
House rolled his eyes. This was getting nowhere. The Chase he knew wasn't supposed to be this snippy. He stopped. This was the Chase he knew. The man who picked his own battles. The man House saw when he first met him.
"I was making sure you were in perfect health and condition." House answered.
"I assume I am in perfect health…but condition…" Chase motioned to his bandaged shoulder and arm, "not so peachy."
House stared at Chase. His mind swirling with questions. Was Chase just like him? Did Chase wear a mask just like him? Could Chase see through his own facade? Another question screamed at him and it dominated all others. Before he could ask, he heard someone enter the room. He turned to see the same nurse he bribed turn on the lights. They both grimaced at the sudden light and at the loud happy sound of the nurse.
"You're awake!" she beamed. She paused and looked at House, "I'm going to go get the doctor alright?"
That was his signal to leave. He could tell from her voice that his bribery was no longer in favor. He nodded and turned to Chase as the nurse left the room,
"I'm going to go upstairs; Foreman and Cameron will probably burn the diagnostics office to the ground if t left unattended."
Chase let out a small chuckle, "Yah. Wouldn't want that to happen."
"Why?" House blurted out, unable to hold the question in any longer.
"Why what?"
"Why did you do it? Take the bullet for me?"
Chase sighed softly and glanced down, his blonde bangs falling into his eyes. As he looked back up at House, he suddenly looked so young, "Honestly…I don't know."
House glared at him and spat with vehement, "You're lying."
Chase was taken aback.
House smiled a cruel smirk, "Don't worry though pretty wombat, I'll find out the answer soon enough."
Damn Chase thought as House limped out of the room. Was that why House was waiting for him to wake up? Or was this House 's sick way of showing that he cared? All he knew though was that his suffering was not over. House had found another puzzle and when House finds a puzzle the older man did not rest until he solved it. And right now, that puzzle was him.
Damn.
If only that bullet had been a few inches south.
