(no subject)
Not that Chase particularly advertised it often, but it felt like he was beginning to grow up. Yeah, on a shallow level, he'd had to. He was a father now to a kid he loved. He and Nate had taken to the rec room floor, Chase stretching out forward on his legs, ready to pass off the baby to the Doctor so he could go for an evening run before work.
He worked, he ran a department, he still had patients, and he could walk into a church.
(Okay, so that last one had less to do with growing up and more to do with his entirely too screwed up past, but he was making progress on all sides and that was what mattered, when it came down to it)
He just wished he could tell whether he was striving to be as good with Nate as he was because he wanted to do well by Gwen, he wanted to be anyone but his father, or if he genuinely loved Nate more than anything. The last one, yes, it was true, but...sometimes, Chase had doubts as to whether it was the same as a biological kid.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was still just babysitting him on a more permanent basis.
"C'mon, Nate, don't eat that," Chase tried to barter with him, leaning forward to pry the wooden block from the corner of his mouth, giving him a dubious look as if there would actually be some kind of sense and logic had. He reached forward, wrapping his arms around the boy and eased him closer, letting Nate's back press against his front as he fixed his hair idly. "The last thing I need is your mother to observe an oral fixation gained from nurture," he went on. "Even if she is gone, she'll find a way to yell at me."
He worked, he ran a department, he still had patients, and he could walk into a church.
(Okay, so that last one had less to do with growing up and more to do with his entirely too screwed up past, but he was making progress on all sides and that was what mattered, when it came down to it)
He just wished he could tell whether he was striving to be as good with Nate as he was because he wanted to do well by Gwen, he wanted to be anyone but his father, or if he genuinely loved Nate more than anything. The last one, yes, it was true, but...sometimes, Chase had doubts as to whether it was the same as a biological kid.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was still just babysitting him on a more permanent basis.
"C'mon, Nate, don't eat that," Chase tried to barter with him, leaning forward to pry the wooden block from the corner of his mouth, giving him a dubious look as if there would actually be some kind of sense and logic had. He reached forward, wrapping his arms around the boy and eased him closer, letting Nate's back press against his front as he fixed his hair idly. "The last thing I need is your mother to observe an oral fixation gained from nurture," he went on. "Even if she is gone, she'll find a way to yell at me."