Father Figure (3/8)
Whoot! Response is wonderful, so I'll keep copy/pasting our chappies in once a day. As said, would do them faster, but I figure we made them long enough we should give time before we put the next one up. And why am I telling you this? No idea.
Title: Father Figure, Pt. 3
Authors: clarkangel and moondustwolf
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for rape and language
Summary: Chase has nightmares and makes appointments with friendly psychologists. Then he skips said appointments, which gets people pissed at him and causes him to run off. This turns out to be a bad idea.
Notes: Again, just so nobody thinks we're, like, ungodly fast writers or anything, we've already got this whole thing done, having created it back and forth over the past month or so. (I'd only wish I was able to write this much in a day every day. Maybe then I'd have finished NaNoWriMo. *sigh*)
THANK YOU to all reviewers! Since this is all being posted fairly quickly, we'll wait until the last bit to thank you individually, but you're all the best part of putting this out in the world. You rock!
Part 1, Part 2
Chase walked around the city streets for a while, not really going anywhere but just not wanting to return home. When he got back he would have nothing to do but get ready for bed and he wasn’t at all eager to sleep. Even resting on House’s desk, nightmares had come to plague him, and the consequences of that had been…well, not pleasant.
After a while, though, his eyelids were drooping so badly he knew he had no choice. Maybe he would have a shower, try to just do something to calm himself down and take his mind off things.
Arriving at his apartment, he went straight to his bathroom, stripped his clothes off, and turned the shower on to a point where the water was a good deal hotter than he’d normally have it. Not hot enough to burn him, but nearly.
He got in and let the water cascade down him, trying to let the scalding feel of it on his back help take away how unclean he’d felt in the past day. He scrubbed slowly and then fiercely, trying to wash away the feeling there was something physically wrong with him.
Eventually he gave up, turned the shower off and stepped out, already shuddering in the cold air around him as he toweled off and dragged himself into his bedroom so that he could pull pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt out of his drawers and pull them on. Tugging lightly at the fabric, trying to preserve some of the warmth of the shower, he slipped into bed..
For a while, he tried to fight sleep. He told himself he wasn’t tired, he ran through lists of common ailments in his head, and he even tried counting sheep, but nothing helped. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Finally, he sagged deep into his sheets and let his mind float away, trying desperately to focus on good things. His mother, before the alcoholism. His friends. His childhood…
He was 17 again, back in the church where he was being trained and educated. The chapel looked different than he remembered it, though. It was dark and the only light came from that of the moon spilling through stained glass windows. Colors danced on the floor like ghosts. He stared up in front of him, looking towards where he remembered a picture of the Virgin Mary being, but he could see nothing.
Suddenly, a flash of bright orange color behind him caused him to turn around. Right away, he was blinded by the glow of a torch which was being help by a man, a priest in heavy robes. Blinking in the light, it was a moment before he recognized the visitor. But the face soon came clearly into view and he gasped, stepped backward and stumbled, toppling to the floor.
“Oh, Robert, my child” the man said softly as he approached, voice sounding almost teasing with malice. “What sins you have committed. You mother would be so ashamed, poor woman.”
“No” he whispered desperately, screwing his eyes shut as hands wrapped around him and breath came hot on his lips “Please…I haven’t…I didn’t mean to”
“Open your eyes!” The voice was a cackle now and evoked a far more recent memory. Trembling, he responded by squeezing his eyes shut even more tightly, but there was a slap across his face and he quickly obeyed the instructions.
The man holding him now had the body of the priest of his youth, but the face pressed up close enough to his to kiss him was that of Coglan, scars illuminated in the firelight, and with a twisted smile that made his stomach plummet.
Plunging suddenly into reality, Chase sat up and gasped, sheets now feeling freezing against him as hot sweat dripped down his body. Quickly, the moisture on his skin was cooled and he shivered weakly, mind still weak.
It was a full few minutes before his heavy breathing returned to normal. As soon as he felt steady enough to walk, he staggered to the bathroom and dropped in front of his toilet, sacrificing what was probably most of the nachos he’d eaten earlier to the porcelain god.
Once his stomach settled, he flushed the toilet and stood again, his body now quickly alternating between being too hot and too cold, but never just right. He grabbed a cup and washed his mouth out with water a few times before filing it again and gulping down the contents.
Falling back into his sheets once again, he groaned. He couldn’t spend every night like this. But when he was asleep, he couldn’t stop the memories from coming back. At last he turned on his side, glanced at the clock- which now read 4:48 in glowing red letters- and managed to release himself to another couple hours of uninterrupted slumber.
When his alarm went off at 6:30 sharp, his hand shot out from the covers to slap in until it turned off. He kept the covers pulled over his head, and for a few moments, tried to convince himself he could take the day off. But he couldn’t fool himself. After a couple minutes he got up, showered again, and made his way to work.
When he parked his car in the lot outside the hospital, he stopped for a moment and dropped his head against the steering wheel, taking a few deep breaths. Acting normal every day took a lot out of him. Steeling himself for the task, he opened the car door, stepped back, and walked through the front doors, intentionally trying to hold his body in a casual way.
“Doctor Chase?” He had barely stepped though the door before he was greeted by Cuddy. “Will you step into my office for a second, please?” Chase signed. So much for avoidance. He followed her, trying to think of something to say.
She sat down and motioned for him to take a chair in front of her desk. Once he had, she folded her arms a couple times over the tables’ surface awkwardly, and then, in a voice of forced curiosity, asked “How are you?”
Briefly biting back a sarcastic response, Chase shrugged. “I’m…okay, I guess.”
“No you aren’t” the light air was gone now, and Cuddy’s voice was pointed. “You can’t be. Listen to me, Doctor Chase. I know you don’t want to talk to anyone, but-”
“Doctor Cuddy, I…” Chase moved his hands around a bit to illustrate as he tried to explain. “It’s just…” he paused. “You’re right, I don’t want to”, he admitted. “But why is it any of your business?”
“Because you work for me, Chase. And I’m afraid”, she let out her breath and looked him straight in the idea. “I’m afraid I can’t give you a choice. We have a great woman on call here, Doctor Reese. She-”
“A shrink?” Chase asked, insulted
“A psychologist” Cuddy replied firmly. “One of the best. And if you don’t go to see her, I’ll have to arrange for an…an extended leave of absence, as it were”
He glared at for a moment before realizing it was pointless and shrugging with another sigh. “Fine, I’ll go talk to her, okay?”
“Very good. Your first appointment is at eleven.” she replied, smiling gently but somewhat triumphantly. She stopped him as he tried to stalk off “Chase…she really will be able to help”
Chase nodded, but moved away quickly so her hand fell off his shoulder and he could walk away. Cuddy was right, seeing someone wasn’t the end of the world. But that was beside the point. The point was that there was no purpose in trying to talk to someone who could help him because, like it or not, nobody could. Not anymore.
His pager went off as he started down the hall. Pulling it from his belt, he glanced at it and sighed. ‘Office. Detectives. Now.’ the tiny screen read. He shoved the device angrily back into his pocket, wondering if this morning could get any worse. He debated just running away, but was more afraid of what House would do to him then.
Besides House, there was a man and a woman in the small room, both of who were dressed in casual suits and wore badges pinned to their chests. They both shook his hand. The former introduced himself as Detective Harden and the other as Detective Waker. Waker began to speak first.
“We’re investigating your case”, she told Chase firmly, pulling a file out of her shoulder bag. “We’ll do what we can and then help you in finding a lawyer-”
“I don’t want to press charges” Chase cut her off, shooting House a look over her shoulder. Walker blinked a moment taken aback.
“Sir, I know you’re still in shock about this and I realize I can’t understand how hard it must be, but you have a reason to take this man to court.”
“I don’t want to press charges” Chase repeated, raising his chin a little as he used to do when he was a child talking back to his parents. The two detectives looked at one another with expressions that made it clear they thought Chase was ‘one of those’ victims. Harder turned back to face him.
“Well, if you ever want to reconsider, be sure to call us” he said, handing Chase a card with a phone number written on it in pen. Chase smiled at them and nodded, already planning on tossing the small piece of paper as soon as he could.
There was a long pause in which nobody spoke, and then both the detectives shook hands with Chase and House again and left. Chase caught House’s glare out of the corner of his eye and flinched, focusing his own vision somewhere near the other man’s ear.
“What is it going to take with you?” at last House broke the silence, his voice not sounding anywhere near as his face hinted, just tired and almost upset. “Chase, I don’t know if you’re trying to be noble or if you’re really this much of an idiot. You need to make this guy pay.”
“I just don’t want to have to deal with this anymore” Chase choked, the words briefly constricting in his chest.
“Yes, well. In case you haven’t figured it out already, that’s not an option” House snarled. He waited another moment before he seemed to visibly sag, rubbing fingers over his eyes. “Whatever. Go do clinic hours. In the lab for now. Don’t want you around patients while you’re still jumpy.”
“I am not jumpy” Chase grumbled, annoyed. House leaned over, picked a ruler up from his desk, and slammed it on the wall near Chase, who jumped a mile at the sound before realizing what he’d done.
“Sure you aren’t. Now get to work” Chase huffed but didn’t press the matter, turning on his heel and walking away.
Hours later, he was still on the job. He had “accidentally” forgotten his appointment with Dr. Reese and was now avoiding House and Cuddy at all costs. He felt about ready to keel over, though, and there was a part of him rather longing to see the light of day. Carefully, he poked his head through the doorway, looking both ways as though expecting something to leap on top of him if he took one more step. Unable to see anyone, he slowly edged out and began, very watchfully, to make his way towards the front doors.
Meanwhile, Cuddy, yet again in a foul mood, had tracked down Dr. Reese. The young woman sat in a swiveling chair with a pen tucked into her brown hair, and sighed at her confronted.
“Lisa” she said soothingly “I can’t force Chase to talk to me if he doesn’t want to. You can keep him from coming to work, but you can’t tell him how to take care of this.”
“But that’s the thing” Cuddy replied “He’s just not taking care of it at all. We’re trying to help and he’s just turning everyone away.”
“And it’s only going to get worse if you keep trying to push him into something he isn’t ready for”
“Look, I just…” Cuddy stopped, sighed, and nodded. “No. Okay. You’re right, I know. It’s just I can’t have people like this just wandering around my hospital. He’s supposed to be taking care of people and can’t admit he needs to be taken care of himself” Reese bit her lip at this and looked at the floor for a moment.
“I’ll see what I can do. But no promises” she offered. “Deal”
“Deal” Cuddy gave her a weak but grateful smile and strode off, leaving her to start to gather her bags until the crabby diagnostician, Dr. House entered.
“So my underling didn’t come to see you” Apparently this was considered a common conversation opener.
“And that was his choice. There’s nothing I- or you” she added, giving Dr. House a meaningful look “Can do about that”
“He’s dragging around like a druggie kid” the doctor told her irritably “He’s going to be basically useless to me until her gets over this.”
“And he will get over it. But when and how is his decision.” At House’s annoyed look, she rolled her eyes and narrowed them back at him “Look. I’ve already told Cuddy I’ll keep an eye on him. That’s all I can offer. I’m sorry.” House opened his mouth, closed it again, and threw his arms in the air, but finally just stood up and walked out. Alone at last, Dr. Reese dropped back into her chair, fighting a headache. People just never understood just how difficult her job was.
Later that night, Chase sat slumped on his couch watching a rerun of Lost, sipping a Coke spiked with just a little of something he’d dug out of his pantry. He was still by no means going to drink away his troubles- he was well aware of the consequences of that- but he just needed something to numb his mind a little. If he was lucky, maybe the bit of alcohol would be enough to make the dreams go away as well.
After about an hour of lying in a non-drunken stupor, he was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing across the room. He tumbled off the couch, almost hitting his head against the table next to it. Grumbling, he stamped over to the object and snatched it up as though it had bit him.
“Boo.” House didn’t bother to wait for a greeting before jumping in. “You missed your appointment.”
“House, it is none of your business” Chase muttered, temples throbbing slightly.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what the psychologist you were supposed to go see told me.”
“Well, then she’s obviously smarted than you are. Maybe you should actually listen for a change” Chase spat.
“That’s what I’m trying to do with you!” House replied, his voice rising slightly. “But it’s rather hard to hear when you aren’t saying anything.”
“Look, House, let it go.” Chase tried, weakly. House’s voice dropped back to normal tones when he responded, but the tension was more than still there.
“You know me, Doctor Chase” he said stoically. “I don’t let go of anything. You’re off the hook tonight because my leg hurts and I have three taped episodes of General Hospital I want to watch. But you can’t run away forever.” He left it at that, and the next sounds Chase heard were the click of the other phone being hung up and the ominous noise of a dial tone.
Chase was pissed. They couldn’t leave him alone at work, and now they were bothering at home, too. He had to get out, so get somewhere, anywhere, where they couldn’t hound him. He left without another thought, jumped back into his car, and took off, not knowing where he’d end up, just knowing he’d rather be anywhere than where he was.
How he ended up at a bar- a biker bar, none the less was beyond him. And as he stood outside the grungy building, he began to consider distrusting his first instincts and going somewhere else. But really, he reasoned, all he wanted was a drink. It wouldn’t be so bad.
Of course, the last time he had thought that, it had gotten him raped. All the same…
Chase shoved into the bar and dropped into a stool. It was a moment before he noticed older men dressed in leather all sitting at an opposite end of the long table.
“Look at that little thing” one of them snickered. “Wonder who he belongs to” Chase’s mouth fell open slightly, and the look he cast down their way caused the whole bunch to crack up.
Screw it. There had to be something better. He stood up and left, moving towards his car, mind now stewing with thoughts about dimwitted people who desperately needed a day job. His hand was on his car door when, out of nowhere, he was thrust against the vehicle’s surface.
“What’s your problem, punk?” He was being held by a very tail, very hairy guy who sneered at him from rows of yellowed teeth. “You think you’re too good for this”
“I-” Chase started, but his mind was already going blank, sailing back to that room with Coglan.
“Because we don’t take well with prissy people” the biker growled, shoving him with more force. Chase swallowed and glanced down the road. He could see nobody and nothing, not even a pay phone. He withered helplessly against the force that pinned him down, blue-green eyes meeting dark ones, and panic raising in his chest.
Title: Father Figure, Pt. 3
Authors: clarkangel and moondustwolf
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for rape and language
Summary: Chase has nightmares and makes appointments with friendly psychologists. Then he skips said appointments, which gets people pissed at him and causes him to run off. This turns out to be a bad idea.
Notes: Again, just so nobody thinks we're, like, ungodly fast writers or anything, we've already got this whole thing done, having created it back and forth over the past month or so. (I'd only wish I was able to write this much in a day every day. Maybe then I'd have finished NaNoWriMo. *sigh*)
THANK YOU to all reviewers! Since this is all being posted fairly quickly, we'll wait until the last bit to thank you individually, but you're all the best part of putting this out in the world. You rock!
Part 1, Part 2
Chase walked around the city streets for a while, not really going anywhere but just not wanting to return home. When he got back he would have nothing to do but get ready for bed and he wasn’t at all eager to sleep. Even resting on House’s desk, nightmares had come to plague him, and the consequences of that had been…well, not pleasant.
After a while, though, his eyelids were drooping so badly he knew he had no choice. Maybe he would have a shower, try to just do something to calm himself down and take his mind off things.
Arriving at his apartment, he went straight to his bathroom, stripped his clothes off, and turned the shower on to a point where the water was a good deal hotter than he’d normally have it. Not hot enough to burn him, but nearly.
He got in and let the water cascade down him, trying to let the scalding feel of it on his back help take away how unclean he’d felt in the past day. He scrubbed slowly and then fiercely, trying to wash away the feeling there was something physically wrong with him.
Eventually he gave up, turned the shower off and stepped out, already shuddering in the cold air around him as he toweled off and dragged himself into his bedroom so that he could pull pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt out of his drawers and pull them on. Tugging lightly at the fabric, trying to preserve some of the warmth of the shower, he slipped into bed..
For a while, he tried to fight sleep. He told himself he wasn’t tired, he ran through lists of common ailments in his head, and he even tried counting sheep, but nothing helped. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Finally, he sagged deep into his sheets and let his mind float away, trying desperately to focus on good things. His mother, before the alcoholism. His friends. His childhood…
He was 17 again, back in the church where he was being trained and educated. The chapel looked different than he remembered it, though. It was dark and the only light came from that of the moon spilling through stained glass windows. Colors danced on the floor like ghosts. He stared up in front of him, looking towards where he remembered a picture of the Virgin Mary being, but he could see nothing.
Suddenly, a flash of bright orange color behind him caused him to turn around. Right away, he was blinded by the glow of a torch which was being help by a man, a priest in heavy robes. Blinking in the light, it was a moment before he recognized the visitor. But the face soon came clearly into view and he gasped, stepped backward and stumbled, toppling to the floor.
“Oh, Robert, my child” the man said softly as he approached, voice sounding almost teasing with malice. “What sins you have committed. You mother would be so ashamed, poor woman.”
“No” he whispered desperately, screwing his eyes shut as hands wrapped around him and breath came hot on his lips “Please…I haven’t…I didn’t mean to”
“Open your eyes!” The voice was a cackle now and evoked a far more recent memory. Trembling, he responded by squeezing his eyes shut even more tightly, but there was a slap across his face and he quickly obeyed the instructions.
The man holding him now had the body of the priest of his youth, but the face pressed up close enough to his to kiss him was that of Coglan, scars illuminated in the firelight, and with a twisted smile that made his stomach plummet.
Plunging suddenly into reality, Chase sat up and gasped, sheets now feeling freezing against him as hot sweat dripped down his body. Quickly, the moisture on his skin was cooled and he shivered weakly, mind still weak.
It was a full few minutes before his heavy breathing returned to normal. As soon as he felt steady enough to walk, he staggered to the bathroom and dropped in front of his toilet, sacrificing what was probably most of the nachos he’d eaten earlier to the porcelain god.
Once his stomach settled, he flushed the toilet and stood again, his body now quickly alternating between being too hot and too cold, but never just right. He grabbed a cup and washed his mouth out with water a few times before filing it again and gulping down the contents.
Falling back into his sheets once again, he groaned. He couldn’t spend every night like this. But when he was asleep, he couldn’t stop the memories from coming back. At last he turned on his side, glanced at the clock- which now read 4:48 in glowing red letters- and managed to release himself to another couple hours of uninterrupted slumber.
When his alarm went off at 6:30 sharp, his hand shot out from the covers to slap in until it turned off. He kept the covers pulled over his head, and for a few moments, tried to convince himself he could take the day off. But he couldn’t fool himself. After a couple minutes he got up, showered again, and made his way to work.
When he parked his car in the lot outside the hospital, he stopped for a moment and dropped his head against the steering wheel, taking a few deep breaths. Acting normal every day took a lot out of him. Steeling himself for the task, he opened the car door, stepped back, and walked through the front doors, intentionally trying to hold his body in a casual way.
“Doctor Chase?” He had barely stepped though the door before he was greeted by Cuddy. “Will you step into my office for a second, please?” Chase signed. So much for avoidance. He followed her, trying to think of something to say.
She sat down and motioned for him to take a chair in front of her desk. Once he had, she folded her arms a couple times over the tables’ surface awkwardly, and then, in a voice of forced curiosity, asked “How are you?”
Briefly biting back a sarcastic response, Chase shrugged. “I’m…okay, I guess.”
“No you aren’t” the light air was gone now, and Cuddy’s voice was pointed. “You can’t be. Listen to me, Doctor Chase. I know you don’t want to talk to anyone, but-”
“Doctor Cuddy, I…” Chase moved his hands around a bit to illustrate as he tried to explain. “It’s just…” he paused. “You’re right, I don’t want to”, he admitted. “But why is it any of your business?”
“Because you work for me, Chase. And I’m afraid”, she let out her breath and looked him straight in the idea. “I’m afraid I can’t give you a choice. We have a great woman on call here, Doctor Reese. She-”
“A shrink?” Chase asked, insulted
“A psychologist” Cuddy replied firmly. “One of the best. And if you don’t go to see her, I’ll have to arrange for an…an extended leave of absence, as it were”
He glared at for a moment before realizing it was pointless and shrugging with another sigh. “Fine, I’ll go talk to her, okay?”
“Very good. Your first appointment is at eleven.” she replied, smiling gently but somewhat triumphantly. She stopped him as he tried to stalk off “Chase…she really will be able to help”
Chase nodded, but moved away quickly so her hand fell off his shoulder and he could walk away. Cuddy was right, seeing someone wasn’t the end of the world. But that was beside the point. The point was that there was no purpose in trying to talk to someone who could help him because, like it or not, nobody could. Not anymore.
His pager went off as he started down the hall. Pulling it from his belt, he glanced at it and sighed. ‘Office. Detectives. Now.’ the tiny screen read. He shoved the device angrily back into his pocket, wondering if this morning could get any worse. He debated just running away, but was more afraid of what House would do to him then.
Besides House, there was a man and a woman in the small room, both of who were dressed in casual suits and wore badges pinned to their chests. They both shook his hand. The former introduced himself as Detective Harden and the other as Detective Waker. Waker began to speak first.
“We’re investigating your case”, she told Chase firmly, pulling a file out of her shoulder bag. “We’ll do what we can and then help you in finding a lawyer-”
“I don’t want to press charges” Chase cut her off, shooting House a look over her shoulder. Walker blinked a moment taken aback.
“Sir, I know you’re still in shock about this and I realize I can’t understand how hard it must be, but you have a reason to take this man to court.”
“I don’t want to press charges” Chase repeated, raising his chin a little as he used to do when he was a child talking back to his parents. The two detectives looked at one another with expressions that made it clear they thought Chase was ‘one of those’ victims. Harder turned back to face him.
“Well, if you ever want to reconsider, be sure to call us” he said, handing Chase a card with a phone number written on it in pen. Chase smiled at them and nodded, already planning on tossing the small piece of paper as soon as he could.
There was a long pause in which nobody spoke, and then both the detectives shook hands with Chase and House again and left. Chase caught House’s glare out of the corner of his eye and flinched, focusing his own vision somewhere near the other man’s ear.
“What is it going to take with you?” at last House broke the silence, his voice not sounding anywhere near as his face hinted, just tired and almost upset. “Chase, I don’t know if you’re trying to be noble or if you’re really this much of an idiot. You need to make this guy pay.”
“I just don’t want to have to deal with this anymore” Chase choked, the words briefly constricting in his chest.
“Yes, well. In case you haven’t figured it out already, that’s not an option” House snarled. He waited another moment before he seemed to visibly sag, rubbing fingers over his eyes. “Whatever. Go do clinic hours. In the lab for now. Don’t want you around patients while you’re still jumpy.”
“I am not jumpy” Chase grumbled, annoyed. House leaned over, picked a ruler up from his desk, and slammed it on the wall near Chase, who jumped a mile at the sound before realizing what he’d done.
“Sure you aren’t. Now get to work” Chase huffed but didn’t press the matter, turning on his heel and walking away.
Hours later, he was still on the job. He had “accidentally” forgotten his appointment with Dr. Reese and was now avoiding House and Cuddy at all costs. He felt about ready to keel over, though, and there was a part of him rather longing to see the light of day. Carefully, he poked his head through the doorway, looking both ways as though expecting something to leap on top of him if he took one more step. Unable to see anyone, he slowly edged out and began, very watchfully, to make his way towards the front doors.
Meanwhile, Cuddy, yet again in a foul mood, had tracked down Dr. Reese. The young woman sat in a swiveling chair with a pen tucked into her brown hair, and sighed at her confronted.
“Lisa” she said soothingly “I can’t force Chase to talk to me if he doesn’t want to. You can keep him from coming to work, but you can’t tell him how to take care of this.”
“But that’s the thing” Cuddy replied “He’s just not taking care of it at all. We’re trying to help and he’s just turning everyone away.”
“And it’s only going to get worse if you keep trying to push him into something he isn’t ready for”
“Look, I just…” Cuddy stopped, sighed, and nodded. “No. Okay. You’re right, I know. It’s just I can’t have people like this just wandering around my hospital. He’s supposed to be taking care of people and can’t admit he needs to be taken care of himself” Reese bit her lip at this and looked at the floor for a moment.
“I’ll see what I can do. But no promises” she offered. “Deal”
“Deal” Cuddy gave her a weak but grateful smile and strode off, leaving her to start to gather her bags until the crabby diagnostician, Dr. House entered.
“So my underling didn’t come to see you” Apparently this was considered a common conversation opener.
“And that was his choice. There’s nothing I- or you” she added, giving Dr. House a meaningful look “Can do about that”
“He’s dragging around like a druggie kid” the doctor told her irritably “He’s going to be basically useless to me until her gets over this.”
“And he will get over it. But when and how is his decision.” At House’s annoyed look, she rolled her eyes and narrowed them back at him “Look. I’ve already told Cuddy I’ll keep an eye on him. That’s all I can offer. I’m sorry.” House opened his mouth, closed it again, and threw his arms in the air, but finally just stood up and walked out. Alone at last, Dr. Reese dropped back into her chair, fighting a headache. People just never understood just how difficult her job was.
Later that night, Chase sat slumped on his couch watching a rerun of Lost, sipping a Coke spiked with just a little of something he’d dug out of his pantry. He was still by no means going to drink away his troubles- he was well aware of the consequences of that- but he just needed something to numb his mind a little. If he was lucky, maybe the bit of alcohol would be enough to make the dreams go away as well.
After about an hour of lying in a non-drunken stupor, he was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing across the room. He tumbled off the couch, almost hitting his head against the table next to it. Grumbling, he stamped over to the object and snatched it up as though it had bit him.
“Boo.” House didn’t bother to wait for a greeting before jumping in. “You missed your appointment.”
“House, it is none of your business” Chase muttered, temples throbbing slightly.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what the psychologist you were supposed to go see told me.”
“Well, then she’s obviously smarted than you are. Maybe you should actually listen for a change” Chase spat.
“That’s what I’m trying to do with you!” House replied, his voice rising slightly. “But it’s rather hard to hear when you aren’t saying anything.”
“Look, House, let it go.” Chase tried, weakly. House’s voice dropped back to normal tones when he responded, but the tension was more than still there.
“You know me, Doctor Chase” he said stoically. “I don’t let go of anything. You’re off the hook tonight because my leg hurts and I have three taped episodes of General Hospital I want to watch. But you can’t run away forever.” He left it at that, and the next sounds Chase heard were the click of the other phone being hung up and the ominous noise of a dial tone.
Chase was pissed. They couldn’t leave him alone at work, and now they were bothering at home, too. He had to get out, so get somewhere, anywhere, where they couldn’t hound him. He left without another thought, jumped back into his car, and took off, not knowing where he’d end up, just knowing he’d rather be anywhere than where he was.
How he ended up at a bar- a biker bar, none the less was beyond him. And as he stood outside the grungy building, he began to consider distrusting his first instincts and going somewhere else. But really, he reasoned, all he wanted was a drink. It wouldn’t be so bad.
Of course, the last time he had thought that, it had gotten him raped. All the same…
Chase shoved into the bar and dropped into a stool. It was a moment before he noticed older men dressed in leather all sitting at an opposite end of the long table.
“Look at that little thing” one of them snickered. “Wonder who he belongs to” Chase’s mouth fell open slightly, and the look he cast down their way caused the whole bunch to crack up.
Screw it. There had to be something better. He stood up and left, moving towards his car, mind now stewing with thoughts about dimwitted people who desperately needed a day job. His hand was on his car door when, out of nowhere, he was thrust against the vehicle’s surface.
“What’s your problem, punk?” He was being held by a very tail, very hairy guy who sneered at him from rows of yellowed teeth. “You think you’re too good for this”
“I-” Chase started, but his mind was already going blank, sailing back to that room with Coglan.
“Because we don’t take well with prissy people” the biker growled, shoving him with more force. Chase swallowed and glanced down the road. He could see nobody and nothing, not even a pay phone. He withered helplessly against the force that pinned him down, blue-green eyes meeting dark ones, and panic raising in his chest.