(no subject)
Author: Bkwmkiwi
Title: Unsmiling Sun
Summary: It wasn't like he wasn't in love with her.
Ship: Chase/Cameron
Challenge Number/Title: #5 Title Love
Episode Title: Euphoria
Rating: PG
Warning: Kind of spoilers for season finale
Author's Note: Ugh, this just got way too angsty, but I didn't want to scrap it. (Interesting that I got Euphoria - I did my first challenge on Euphoria too.)
He should have known. He should have had enough sense to realise she wouldn’t fall in love with him as suddenly as her with her. Her sudden change of heart ought to have alerted him. He had tried to kid himself she’d be here when he rolled over to greet her good morning.
He should have known.
He was so sure she was for real this time, though. God, that look she gave him…it was so genuine, he was sure.
Had been sure.
Chase kicked the sheets off, feeling hot, feeling ashamed. He wished he could go back, hide his vulnerability, take back his feelings. He couldn’t help but realise that if he’d kept his mouth shut al those weeks ago, she’d still be here, curling up to him, making it clear that she did care, if only a little.
But she wouldn’t be, Chase knew. She’d have headed off as soon as she woke, much like today.
On the way to the kitchen, Chase spared a glance at the liquor cabinet, and was tempted, for a second, to bring back the euphoria of last night. The doctor in him reminded him that alcohol was a depressant, and that he had work in half an hour anyway.
Only he didn’t, did he? Doomed to a day of repeated soaps and dry cereal for lunch.
The kitchen was tidy this morning. Having the last two days to himself, he’d made himself productive and cleaned the house, first time in a while. He was glad he had; Cameron had noticed and commented on it.
Chase squeezed his eyes shut, reprimanding himself for caring what Cameron thought.
But it wasn’t like he couldn’t. It wasn’t like he could flick a switch and she’d be nothing to him. It wasn’t like he could forget.
Chase sat down at the table, gathering up the scattered remains of yesterday’s newspaper. Better to regret something you said than regret saying nothing at all, the proverb of the day told him. Maybe so, Chase thought. But he had nothing to compare it with.
The sun was strong through the kitchen window, but he wished it wasn’t. It begged him to be happy, and Chase wanted the weather matched his mood.
But it didn’t.
The world didn’t care she’d walked out, again. The world didn’t care he’d be spending this Saturday along, and the next one, because he wouldn’t be able to let her in again.
The orange juice was sourer than Chase’d expected, and he almost spat it out in the sink. Cameron must have had some before she left, Chase thought, and he couldn’t stop a smile. Because even thought he kind of hated Cameron right now, he didn’t mind the thought of her wandering around his house barefoot while he slept. He could imagine her, silently slipping on her shirt, careful to pick up everything she owned, desperately trying not to wake him, to avoid swapping awkward goodbyes.
It broke Chase’s heart all over again to realise that she wasn’t the perfect person he had made her out to be. Not that he’d ever thought she was without her flaws - but those were forgivable. Being too moral, if there was such a thing. Being unable to stray from the unnoticed rules. Wearing skin that wasn’t even thick enough to protect her from light teasing.
Opening her heart for so many others and at the same time, shutting it tight for him.
What annoyed Chase most now, though, was that she had come back, one last time, before disappearing into the sunrise. He’d almost gotten over her just hours before. He’d given up and had gotten over it.
But when he thought he had his chance again, he threw away all his inhibitions and let her in. It wasn’t like he couldn’t. It wasn’t like he could pretend he didn’t want to.
But he thought she had come in pursuit of a relationship, not a night of sex. And yes, he enjoyed it, he admitted that, but he no longer found it satisfying. It wasn’t what he wanted any more.
What he had been looking forward to was the morning after, lying in bed and talking about nothing, sharing a piece of toast because it was the only slice left.
And it wasn’t like she had to get up for work. It wasn’t like she anywhere to go.
And the thought of her sitting at home by herself, knowing she’d rather be there, alone, than here with him made him want to curl up in the corner for a few hours and pretend he was ok, pretend it didn’t hurt.
He still had that picture their photographer patient had given him. He hadn’t dared put it in his wallet in case Cameron had found it, opened it, questioned him.
Chase got up, and walked back over to where he had kept the picture, in a scrappy looking envelope (to deflect curiosity) in his bed side drawer, listening to the muted sound his bare feet made on the floor. He liked the sound - it reminded him of when he was a small child, running around the garden during summer without shoes on.
Chase took out the picture, discarding the envelope, and held it with both hands. Chase wondered if he was glowing now.
There wasn’t any point keeping this photo any more, Chase decided. He moved his hands to the top, ready to tear it in half, but found he couldn’t. Something stopped him - naïve hope, maybe. Maybe just an unwillingness to let go.
Chase jumped, his heart pounding when he heard his name called out.
“Chase? Are you awake yet? There you are.” Cameron came into the room, handed him a Styrofoam cup of coffee and took a sip out of hers.
“I couldn’t even find a satchel of crappy instant coffee. What do you do, hope House has enough to last you through the morning? Can’t do that any more.”
Chase couldn’t stop a stupid grin splitting his face. The warmth from the cup she had given him had spread through the rest of his body.
“What’s that?” Cameron asked, gesturing towards the photo he held. Chase looked down at her, unsmiling, but still beautiful.
In a moment of recovered euphoria, Chase ripped it down the middle, tossing the pieces into the trash can.
“Nothing I need.”
Title: Unsmiling Sun
Summary: It wasn't like he wasn't in love with her.
Ship: Chase/Cameron
Challenge Number/Title: #5 Title Love
Episode Title: Euphoria
Rating: PG
Warning: Kind of spoilers for season finale
Author's Note: Ugh, this just got way too angsty, but I didn't want to scrap it. (Interesting that I got Euphoria - I did my first challenge on Euphoria too.)
He should have known. He should have had enough sense to realise she wouldn’t fall in love with him as suddenly as her with her. Her sudden change of heart ought to have alerted him. He had tried to kid himself she’d be here when he rolled over to greet her good morning.
He should have known.
He was so sure she was for real this time, though. God, that look she gave him…it was so genuine, he was sure.
Had been sure.
Chase kicked the sheets off, feeling hot, feeling ashamed. He wished he could go back, hide his vulnerability, take back his feelings. He couldn’t help but realise that if he’d kept his mouth shut al those weeks ago, she’d still be here, curling up to him, making it clear that she did care, if only a little.
But she wouldn’t be, Chase knew. She’d have headed off as soon as she woke, much like today.
On the way to the kitchen, Chase spared a glance at the liquor cabinet, and was tempted, for a second, to bring back the euphoria of last night. The doctor in him reminded him that alcohol was a depressant, and that he had work in half an hour anyway.
Only he didn’t, did he? Doomed to a day of repeated soaps and dry cereal for lunch.
The kitchen was tidy this morning. Having the last two days to himself, he’d made himself productive and cleaned the house, first time in a while. He was glad he had; Cameron had noticed and commented on it.
Chase squeezed his eyes shut, reprimanding himself for caring what Cameron thought.
But it wasn’t like he couldn’t. It wasn’t like he could flick a switch and she’d be nothing to him. It wasn’t like he could forget.
Chase sat down at the table, gathering up the scattered remains of yesterday’s newspaper. Better to regret something you said than regret saying nothing at all, the proverb of the day told him. Maybe so, Chase thought. But he had nothing to compare it with.
The sun was strong through the kitchen window, but he wished it wasn’t. It begged him to be happy, and Chase wanted the weather matched his mood.
But it didn’t.
The world didn’t care she’d walked out, again. The world didn’t care he’d be spending this Saturday along, and the next one, because he wouldn’t be able to let her in again.
The orange juice was sourer than Chase’d expected, and he almost spat it out in the sink. Cameron must have had some before she left, Chase thought, and he couldn’t stop a smile. Because even thought he kind of hated Cameron right now, he didn’t mind the thought of her wandering around his house barefoot while he slept. He could imagine her, silently slipping on her shirt, careful to pick up everything she owned, desperately trying not to wake him, to avoid swapping awkward goodbyes.
It broke Chase’s heart all over again to realise that she wasn’t the perfect person he had made her out to be. Not that he’d ever thought she was without her flaws - but those were forgivable. Being too moral, if there was such a thing. Being unable to stray from the unnoticed rules. Wearing skin that wasn’t even thick enough to protect her from light teasing.
Opening her heart for so many others and at the same time, shutting it tight for him.
What annoyed Chase most now, though, was that she had come back, one last time, before disappearing into the sunrise. He’d almost gotten over her just hours before. He’d given up and had gotten over it.
But when he thought he had his chance again, he threw away all his inhibitions and let her in. It wasn’t like he couldn’t. It wasn’t like he could pretend he didn’t want to.
But he thought she had come in pursuit of a relationship, not a night of sex. And yes, he enjoyed it, he admitted that, but he no longer found it satisfying. It wasn’t what he wanted any more.
What he had been looking forward to was the morning after, lying in bed and talking about nothing, sharing a piece of toast because it was the only slice left.
And it wasn’t like she had to get up for work. It wasn’t like she anywhere to go.
And the thought of her sitting at home by herself, knowing she’d rather be there, alone, than here with him made him want to curl up in the corner for a few hours and pretend he was ok, pretend it didn’t hurt.
He still had that picture their photographer patient had given him. He hadn’t dared put it in his wallet in case Cameron had found it, opened it, questioned him.
Chase got up, and walked back over to where he had kept the picture, in a scrappy looking envelope (to deflect curiosity) in his bed side drawer, listening to the muted sound his bare feet made on the floor. He liked the sound - it reminded him of when he was a small child, running around the garden during summer without shoes on.
Chase took out the picture, discarding the envelope, and held it with both hands. Chase wondered if he was glowing now.
There wasn’t any point keeping this photo any more, Chase decided. He moved his hands to the top, ready to tear it in half, but found he couldn’t. Something stopped him - naïve hope, maybe. Maybe just an unwillingness to let go.
Chase jumped, his heart pounding when he heard his name called out.
“Chase? Are you awake yet? There you are.” Cameron came into the room, handed him a Styrofoam cup of coffee and took a sip out of hers.
“I couldn’t even find a satchel of crappy instant coffee. What do you do, hope House has enough to last you through the morning? Can’t do that any more.”
Chase couldn’t stop a stupid grin splitting his face. The warmth from the cup she had given him had spread through the rest of his body.
“What’s that?” Cameron asked, gesturing towards the photo he held. Chase looked down at her, unsmiling, but still beautiful.
In a moment of recovered euphoria, Chase ripped it down the middle, tossing the pieces into the trash can.
“Nothing I need.”