FIC: cogitate, ruminate, think, dream - House/Chase, Gen, pre-slash
TITLE: cogitate, ruminate, think, dream
AUTHOR: snarkaddict
PAIRING: House/Chase
RATING: Gen, pre-slash
WARNINGS: Set sometime after "House Vs. God" ep
SUMMARY: “Why do you always do things you don’t want to do?”
DISCLAIMER: So not mine.
NOTES: Betaed by mimbulus then edited by me, so any mistakes you see here now are all my fault. Comments are much love!
“Why do you always do things you don’t want to do?”
Boyd’s words were like a broken record in his head, playing that same damn tune over and over. It had been months since the House Vs God incident and still, it was as if it had just happened yesterday.
When Boyd said that, Chase nearly retorted but had no problem staying silent. It was too ingrained in him. Or trained, one could look at it that way. “If God knows what is it I want to do, then by all means, he should go ahead and do it for me. Or pave the way, whichever is easier for Him to achieve.” His seminary training, a constant whisperer of sins he had done or was about to commit kicked in and killed that thought before he could complete it.
He was pathetic. He could not even be rebellious in his own mind.
How could he explain to God (and really, He should know better) that just because you did not want to do something, it did not mean that you were able to not do it. Wasn’t it bad enough he’d get judged by God at the end? He so did not need some young punk doing the same, however in tune with God the said punk may be.
For instance, look at his childhood. He did not want, nay loathe going to the private school his father had insisted on enrolling him in but (“Every single Chase male, dating back to your great grand father has gone to Guildford Grammar. The success of that school can unquestionably be attributed to us Chases".) of course he could not tell his father. Dr Rowan Chase demanded one rule and one rule only - obedience. He expected more so from his son than his subordinates.
(“Besides, look how well I’ve turned out.”)
Sure, Father. Finest specimen of manhood, indeed. Chase could not help rolling his eyes and snorting incredulously at that. In private, of course.
He laughed now, sitting on his bed, smoking his fifth cigarette of the night. Smoking was his current rebellion but like all his rebellions, this was silently staged and unknown by the people he wanted to rebel against in the first place.
It was enough that he knew he was rebelling. Chase did not need the ones he was rebelling against to know. On days that were longdarkcoldendless though, Chase thought he was such a coward that he could not even do a small thing like cutting class out in the open.
The worst thing was, right now, he had no idea who or what he was supposed to revolt against this time. His father was long gone and beyond any pain that Chase’s actions might cause him. Or vice versa. And yet, just when Chase might be, could be free of his demons, he latched onto the unlikeliest target to assuage his father issues - House.
He could not say when it became more, from wanting a fatherly and proud look in House’s eyes to a deeper, different kind of look.
Chase shook his head. He always thought morbidly late at night. He should probably get some sleep. Besides, things might look better in the morning.
They usually do.
He hoped so.
AUTHOR: snarkaddict
PAIRING: House/Chase
RATING: Gen, pre-slash
WARNINGS: Set sometime after "House Vs. God" ep
SUMMARY: “Why do you always do things you don’t want to do?”
DISCLAIMER: So not mine.
NOTES: Betaed by mimbulus then edited by me, so any mistakes you see here now are all my fault. Comments are much love!
“Why do you always do things you don’t want to do?”
Boyd’s words were like a broken record in his head, playing that same damn tune over and over. It had been months since the House Vs God incident and still, it was as if it had just happened yesterday.
When Boyd said that, Chase nearly retorted but had no problem staying silent. It was too ingrained in him. Or trained, one could look at it that way. “If God knows what is it I want to do, then by all means, he should go ahead and do it for me. Or pave the way, whichever is easier for Him to achieve.” His seminary training, a constant whisperer of sins he had done or was about to commit kicked in and killed that thought before he could complete it.
He was pathetic. He could not even be rebellious in his own mind.
How could he explain to God (and really, He should know better) that just because you did not want to do something, it did not mean that you were able to not do it. Wasn’t it bad enough he’d get judged by God at the end? He so did not need some young punk doing the same, however in tune with God the said punk may be.
For instance, look at his childhood. He did not want, nay loathe going to the private school his father had insisted on enrolling him in but (“Every single Chase male, dating back to your great grand father has gone to Guildford Grammar. The success of that school can unquestionably be attributed to us Chases".) of course he could not tell his father. Dr Rowan Chase demanded one rule and one rule only - obedience. He expected more so from his son than his subordinates.
(“Besides, look how well I’ve turned out.”)
Sure, Father. Finest specimen of manhood, indeed. Chase could not help rolling his eyes and snorting incredulously at that. In private, of course.
He laughed now, sitting on his bed, smoking his fifth cigarette of the night. Smoking was his current rebellion but like all his rebellions, this was silently staged and unknown by the people he wanted to rebel against in the first place.
It was enough that he knew he was rebelling. Chase did not need the ones he was rebelling against to know. On days that were longdarkcoldendless though, Chase thought he was such a coward that he could not even do a small thing like cutting class out in the open.
The worst thing was, right now, he had no idea who or what he was supposed to revolt against this time. His father was long gone and beyond any pain that Chase’s actions might cause him. Or vice versa. And yet, just when Chase might be, could be free of his demons, he latched onto the unlikeliest target to assuage his father issues - House.
He could not say when it became more, from wanting a fatherly and proud look in House’s eyes to a deeper, different kind of look.
Chase shook his head. He always thought morbidly late at night. He should probably get some sleep. Besides, things might look better in the morning.
They usually do.
He hoped so.