theatrical_muse, January 2008 Prompt #213 Sorrow
theatrical_muse, January 2008 Prompt #213: "There's enough sorrow in the world, isn't there, without trying to invent it." E.M.Forster, A Room With A View.
The phone call changed his life. It ripped his world out from under him. It cost a patient her life… at his hand.
“This is Robert…”
“Umm… what did he die of?”
“That's impossible. I saw him two months ago, if he had lung cancer, he would have…”
He’s sitting in Cuddy’s office, her large maple desk sprawling before him. He’s listening, but not reacting. It’s all getting too much; crushing him like a bug on a windscreen. It was only a matter of time before the wiper swept across and swiped the remains of his career into a wet mess of innards on the side of the window.
“Just been served with papers. Actually paper; one page. Defendant Princeton-Plainsboro hospital and Dr Robert Chase… blah, blah, blah. Medical malpractice, negligence… blah, blah.”
“You're surprised they're suing? You think people love Chase so much they're gonna just forgo-”
“Punitive damages in the amount of 10 million dollars.”
“Punitives?! That means they're alleging gross negligence.”
He put his hand over his mouth and exhaled heavily through his nose. What did it matter anymore anyway? He’d killed her. Killed a mother of two because he was too distracted to run a simple routine test. It didn’t matter why he was distracted. It didn’t. It was never going to matter. Two little kids were left without their mother and Chase’s stomach roiled horribly to know he was the cause of that. He would never wish that on any child. Never.
He bit down on the inside of his mouth, tasting blood moments later. Anything it took to not cry in front of these people. They didn’t care. It was reduced to figures now. Nothing but a monetary cost for the hospital. The dead mother didn’t matter.
The dead father didn’t matter, and neither did the son he left behind.
They’re asking him questions. Answer, Chase. About the patient, not why you killed her. He offers a monotone answer, it rolling off his tongue like a rehearsed script. He’s relived it over and over again in his mind like a horror movie every single day since it happened. How would he not know every little detail? It didn’t even matter that he tried to buy her some time with her kids. He had to try and do something to fix it. No, not to fix it. He couldn’t fix it. To apologise? To soften the blow? To beg for forgiveness? To help them grieve? Maybe all of the above. But something had to be better than nothing, even if he had to bear his soul to achieve it.
“My dad died. Lung cancer. I saw him a couple of months before it happened, we never talked about it…”
“He never even told me he was sick. I wish he had. It wou-”
“You're gonna die. Alone. Thousand of miles from your children, you don't want to do that to them.”
It wasn’t enough. They were left with nothing. Just like him. All those years ago. Left with nothing but a gaping ache of pain in his heart. Having an ill mother was better than no mother at all. And it was his fault they had nothing. It was his fault they were struggling to just get by each day without giving up. If he’d run the test and found the diagnosis early, she wouldn’t be dead. He wanted them to have something… he needed them to. It didn’t matter if he risked his career. It didn’t matter if he lied. He had nothing anyway. No family left anymore…
“I killed your sister. I misdiagnosed her ulcer. Killed her.”
“I was hung-over when she came back to see me. I'd been up half the night drinking, had a headache and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Couldn't have cared less what your sister was saying about her stomach pain.”
Chase’s blood runs cold just thinking about it. He’d choked it out and the minute the words fell from his lips, he felt like the last shred of grip he had on his life was torn away and thrown at his feet. A blatant lie to kill his career. It was the least he could do after he killed the patient. His sound rationality was teetering on the edge of despair. He was still in the midst of grief over losing his father, hearing his father hadn’t told him he was dying when they’d been together a short time before. Both parents dead, thousands of miles away from home, his career in tatters around him.
It was the right thing to do. It had to be the right thing to do. Because anything else? He wasn’t sure he could survive it.
“May I speak to my future former employee?”
“You think I'm lying? It's exactly what I told him.”
“I'm sure it is. But you lied to him. You want him to sue you.”
“I killed his sister!”
“I've seen you hung-over. You weren't the day you blew his sister's diagnosis.”
“What does it matter why? Is she less dead if I have a good excuse?”
“If I thought you'd screwed up because you were drunk, I would have fired you.”
“You knew?”
“You were depressed and distracted. I assumed you'd gotten a phone call from your stepmom.”
House knew. All along, House knew and he sat buy and watched Chase go down in flames. Chase was still reeling in horror that his father never told him about the terminal cancer, but this? It was no secret House seemed to lack emotions, but Chase had always hoped the man at least cared for his employees on some level; had some sort of loyalty to them. He was wrong. He’d been wrong a lot of times in his life. He’d been hurt even more. This shouldn’t hurt. It was so expected it should almost be laughable.
And Chase did laugh. A dry, humourless bark of a laugh as he fought back tears of frustration and sorrow. All the feelings of anguish he’d tried to stamp out inside him since he received that phone call bubbled up to the surface in a wavering anger.
“So you just hung me out there to be blindsided.”
“Yeah Chase, it was all my fault. Look, you got a choice. You can either tell the truth, hospital settles, family gets some money, they get to keep their house. Or you can keep up this lie, family gets punitive damages, they buy a jet, they move to Park Avenue, and you have to find another career.”
“You're not going to say anything?”
“I'm going to keep my mouth shut. Legally, it's better for me if you go down in flames.”
Chase never really got over it. He just got better at hiding it. He slumped away and licked his wounds and dragged himself back the next week with a much firmer shield of protection around himself… and much less trust in House. It was his fault. He dropped the ball and showed his cards to House. To everyone from the outside looking in, Chase looked no different; it was almost like nothing had happened. He didn’t speak of the phone call alerting him to his father’s death, and the patient he lost…? She would haunt for the rest of his life.
Not every day, not even every week. But sometimes, when things were hard and the days seemed longer, he would remember the children who lost their mother just like he did, and how easy it would’ve been for him to save her and not kill her. And how the whole mess might’ve been avoided if his father - or House - had just cared enough to shelter him.
Even just once.
Muse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | Complete: 1,293 or Without quotes: 917
Thanks to clinic_duty for the House, M.D. episode transcript quotes from episode 2x08 Mistake
The phone call changed his life. It ripped his world out from under him. It cost a patient her life… at his hand.
“This is Robert…”
“Umm… what did he die of?”
“That's impossible. I saw him two months ago, if he had lung cancer, he would have…”
He’s sitting in Cuddy’s office, her large maple desk sprawling before him. He’s listening, but not reacting. It’s all getting too much; crushing him like a bug on a windscreen. It was only a matter of time before the wiper swept across and swiped the remains of his career into a wet mess of innards on the side of the window.
“Just been served with papers. Actually paper; one page. Defendant Princeton-Plainsboro hospital and Dr Robert Chase… blah, blah, blah. Medical malpractice, negligence… blah, blah.”
“You're surprised they're suing? You think people love Chase so much they're gonna just forgo-”
“Punitive damages in the amount of 10 million dollars.”
“Punitives?! That means they're alleging gross negligence.”
He put his hand over his mouth and exhaled heavily through his nose. What did it matter anymore anyway? He’d killed her. Killed a mother of two because he was too distracted to run a simple routine test. It didn’t matter why he was distracted. It didn’t. It was never going to matter. Two little kids were left without their mother and Chase’s stomach roiled horribly to know he was the cause of that. He would never wish that on any child. Never.
He bit down on the inside of his mouth, tasting blood moments later. Anything it took to not cry in front of these people. They didn’t care. It was reduced to figures now. Nothing but a monetary cost for the hospital. The dead mother didn’t matter.
The dead father didn’t matter, and neither did the son he left behind.
They’re asking him questions. Answer, Chase. About the patient, not why you killed her. He offers a monotone answer, it rolling off his tongue like a rehearsed script. He’s relived it over and over again in his mind like a horror movie every single day since it happened. How would he not know every little detail? It didn’t even matter that he tried to buy her some time with her kids. He had to try and do something to fix it. No, not to fix it. He couldn’t fix it. To apologise? To soften the blow? To beg for forgiveness? To help them grieve? Maybe all of the above. But something had to be better than nothing, even if he had to bear his soul to achieve it.
“My dad died. Lung cancer. I saw him a couple of months before it happened, we never talked about it…”
“He never even told me he was sick. I wish he had. It wou-”
“You're gonna die. Alone. Thousand of miles from your children, you don't want to do that to them.”
It wasn’t enough. They were left with nothing. Just like him. All those years ago. Left with nothing but a gaping ache of pain in his heart. Having an ill mother was better than no mother at all. And it was his fault they had nothing. It was his fault they were struggling to just get by each day without giving up. If he’d run the test and found the diagnosis early, she wouldn’t be dead. He wanted them to have something… he needed them to. It didn’t matter if he risked his career. It didn’t matter if he lied. He had nothing anyway. No family left anymore…
“I killed your sister. I misdiagnosed her ulcer. Killed her.”
“I was hung-over when she came back to see me. I'd been up half the night drinking, had a headache and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Couldn't have cared less what your sister was saying about her stomach pain.”
Chase’s blood runs cold just thinking about it. He’d choked it out and the minute the words fell from his lips, he felt like the last shred of grip he had on his life was torn away and thrown at his feet. A blatant lie to kill his career. It was the least he could do after he killed the patient. His sound rationality was teetering on the edge of despair. He was still in the midst of grief over losing his father, hearing his father hadn’t told him he was dying when they’d been together a short time before. Both parents dead, thousands of miles away from home, his career in tatters around him.
It was the right thing to do. It had to be the right thing to do. Because anything else? He wasn’t sure he could survive it.
“May I speak to my future former employee?”
“You think I'm lying? It's exactly what I told him.”
“I'm sure it is. But you lied to him. You want him to sue you.”
“I killed his sister!”
“I've seen you hung-over. You weren't the day you blew his sister's diagnosis.”
“What does it matter why? Is she less dead if I have a good excuse?”
“If I thought you'd screwed up because you were drunk, I would have fired you.”
“You knew?”
“You were depressed and distracted. I assumed you'd gotten a phone call from your stepmom.”
House knew. All along, House knew and he sat buy and watched Chase go down in flames. Chase was still reeling in horror that his father never told him about the terminal cancer, but this? It was no secret House seemed to lack emotions, but Chase had always hoped the man at least cared for his employees on some level; had some sort of loyalty to them. He was wrong. He’d been wrong a lot of times in his life. He’d been hurt even more. This shouldn’t hurt. It was so expected it should almost be laughable.
And Chase did laugh. A dry, humourless bark of a laugh as he fought back tears of frustration and sorrow. All the feelings of anguish he’d tried to stamp out inside him since he received that phone call bubbled up to the surface in a wavering anger.
“So you just hung me out there to be blindsided.”
“Yeah Chase, it was all my fault. Look, you got a choice. You can either tell the truth, hospital settles, family gets some money, they get to keep their house. Or you can keep up this lie, family gets punitive damages, they buy a jet, they move to Park Avenue, and you have to find another career.”
“You're not going to say anything?”
“I'm going to keep my mouth shut. Legally, it's better for me if you go down in flames.”
Chase never really got over it. He just got better at hiding it. He slumped away and licked his wounds and dragged himself back the next week with a much firmer shield of protection around himself… and much less trust in House. It was his fault. He dropped the ball and showed his cards to House. To everyone from the outside looking in, Chase looked no different; it was almost like nothing had happened. He didn’t speak of the phone call alerting him to his father’s death, and the patient he lost…? She would haunt for the rest of his life.
Not every day, not even every week. But sometimes, when things were hard and the days seemed longer, he would remember the children who lost their mother just like he did, and how easy it would’ve been for him to save her and not kill her. And how the whole mess might’ve been avoided if his father - or House - had just cared enough to shelter him.
Even just once.
Muse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | Complete: 1,293 or Without quotes: 917
Thanks to clinic_duty for the House, M.D. episode transcript quotes from episode 2x08 Mistake