Tales Told Out of Turn Part 9
Title: Tales Told Out of Turn Part 9/?
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Pairing/Grouping: House/Wilson/Chase
Disclaimer: Don't own them, as we all know.
Crossover w/Stargate: Atlantis (you don't need to know much about Stargate to get this fic.)
Summary: House spent way too much time moving around the world as a child and some places had more interesting people than others. How much trouble can a childhood friend cause?
Warnings: Hurt!Chase makes an appearance, although the harm is done prior to this fic. Mentions are made, but no graphic discriptitions. (And I fix him, so it's really about the healing not the hurt.)
Beta: recrudescence
(Part 8)
AN: Rodney is a pain! The nit called Henry from Eureka while I wasn't looking. ;-) For those of you that don't watch Eureka, you really, really ought to. I just about die laughing every show. At least in this the most you need to know is Eureka is a small town that has more time/space problems then Atlantis. Everything else gets explained eventually. (Of course, you can always ask me for a better explaination.)
****
Chase flopped on their couch and flipped the TV on with the sound muted. After waiting for several hours for Thor to reappear with no results and listening to the others exchange barbs, stories, and insults, Chase was exhausted. And waiting. He knew Wilson wasn’t going to let the hunger-crazed comment past without discussion for long. House was going to demand the story of Roswell any moment and Chase just didn’t feel up to it.Wilson walked in from the direction of the bedroom and dropped to sit beside Chase.
“He sleeping?”
Wilson shook his head. “No. He did something to the leg besides overworking it today and he won’t let me look at it. Triple dosed. He ought to be asleep in a while.”
Chase glanced over his shoulder towards the bedroom’s nearly closed door. “Triple dosing is bad.”
Wilson rubbed his hand across his face. “Yeah, well, I’m not letting him do it again tomorrow.”
Chase sighed and laid his head against the back of the couch. “Didn’t say you would. You write it down yet?”
Wilson blinked. “Crap, with everything else I forgot.” Wilson pushed himself up and stumbled over to the tiny closet and pulled a little notebook out of his jacket pocket. “You have a pen?”
Chase leaned forward and rummaged around on the coffee table until he came up with a pen. “Here. Has he found it yet?”
Wilson flipped through the notebook to find that day’s page. “He hasn’t threatened to kill me, so I don’t think so.”
Chase laid his head back again. “We ought to just tell him.”
“No.” Wilson shook his head. He made little slash marks by the date and then, after a moment of thinking, he wrote in the current time for Japan. “He’ll just hide it more then he does now. Yes, I know he hates not being trusted, but he hates being mothered, too.” Wilson returned the notebook to his jacket. “Besides, it’s not that we don’t trust him; we’re keeping track so when he has a problem we’ll know better where he’s at.”
Chase stared at the ceiling. “Feels like we’re not trusting him.”
Wilson sighed. “I know.” Wilson titled his head at Chase. “Why’d you tell House and not me?”
Chase didn’t need to ask to know Wilson was asking about walking out into the Outback in a stupid attempt to…well, die would be the word Wilson would use. “I didn’t. Not really. There’s over a month-long gap in my resume because I wasn’t in school or working. House pestered me until I said I’d gone for a long walk. He filled in the details. The man’s damn annoying about getting the details pretty much right.”
Wilson smiled grimly. “Yes, I know that feeling.” Wilson pulled Chase’s hand into his own lap. “Tell me, please.”
Chase took a deep breath and began to talk. Slowly he explained how his faith in God had been hit by the reality of the politics of the Church. How the struggle to stay himself as others tried to mold him into what they thought he should be had gotten to him. He squeezed Wilson’s hand as he spoke about just abruptly walking out during Mass and just… walking. He’d used the little bit of money he’d had to buy a bus ticket for the first bus going anywhere not there.
“How’d you end up heading for the Rabbit Fence?”
Chase shrugged with one shoulder. “I wanted some place with more sadness and anger than I had in me.”
Wilson nodded without really understanding what Chase meant exactly. He could look it up later. He didn’t want to distract Chase now that he was talking.
Chase explained about getting the old ratty car in exchange for helping with the sorting and grading of sheered sheep’s’ wool. How horribly dirty and itchy the job was. He mentioned how stupid sheep were several times.
Wilson stifled a laughed as Chase made a face as he spoke about the stupidity of sheep.
Finally Chase quietly spoke about just not caring as he abandoned the car and walked.
“Just because you were disillusioned with the seminary, you were depressed enough to just die?”
Chase pulled his hand away from Wilson. “It wasn’t just that, or even mostly that. No one cared. I was having trouble with several local men near my age, but no one even noticed. I wasn’t on speaking terms with my father. I felt unworthy. That’s what I was working on: becoming wasn’t who I was. Yes, I believed in God, but how was I supposed to live within the tight confines of the Church when they couldn’t even admit that God loved all his children, even the ones they said were going to burn for eternity?”
Wilson could hear the unspoken ‘like me’ at the end. He reached over and drew Chase to his chest, clinging to the other man as he struggled for a few moments before going limp.
“I’m sorry, love.”
Chase pressed his face into Wilson’s neck. Carding his fingers into Chase’s hair, Wilson stroked his other hand along Chase’s ribs. He could feel the bones under the skin, too-thin muscle doing nothing to disguise them. They had started to disappear, but after the attack they’d started poking out again.
Wilson kissed the side of Chase’s head. “I’d wondered why you accepted the idea of the three of us together with less fuss then me. Or House for that matter. It bugged me that you never seemed bothered about what we did together, even though it’s something you’d been taught was wrong.” Wilson nuzzled the side of Chase’s face to distract the other man from talking. “I’d see you pray and I’d wonder if you were asking forgiveness for us.”
Chase’s arms tightened around Wilson.
“It never occurred to me that maybe you prayed out of habit. Like I complain about Jewish things even though I really don’t care that much.”
Chase drew a breath in through his nose even though it was pressed against Wilson. “I still believe. I just don’t like Him that much.”
Wilson nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
Chase turned his head so it rested more against Wilson’s shoulder. “House doesn’t need to know more about Loki’s treatment of me because I really don’t want him in trouble for murdering Loki. I’d…I should…tell…someone, no, you about it. I just don’t want House knowing the details.”
Wilson turned his head so his chin rested on Chase’s head and he could see House standing silently in the bedroom doorway. “Okay, I won’t tell House the details. He’s already mad at me for hitting him with a pen earlier today.”
“What’d you stop him from doing?”
Wilson grinned at House’s upraised eyebrow. “He was going to tell Cuddy what you won.”
Chase snorted. “Oh, lovely.”
Wilson slowed the hand he was carding through Chase’s hair. “Details, love.”
Chase sighed. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t out for the tests that Loki did. He wasn’t gentle about drawing samples. I’ve got a couple of tiny circular scars on one foot from him cutting skin samples. He’d done something so I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even blink.” Chase shuddered. “It was just a little too cold, and I didn’t have any clothing. He never touched me except for taking samples and since I was suspended in the air with no tangible support I craved any simulation. It was too quiet, too gray; everything was shades of gray or off-white. No color at all.”
Wilson could see House getting more upset as each word came out of Chase’s mouth.
“I’ve no real idea about how long I was there. My eyes were horribly sore by the time Loki noticed the tears. I don’t think he realized I was awake. He closed my eyes. That was actually worse.” Chase pressed himself tighter to Wilson, who tightened one arm around Chase and continued petting his hair with the other hand. “Finally he was done or he got bored and he dropped me at a tiny settlement in the Outback. Jama was the first to find me. He’d pretty much dropped me on top of her. She was really nice. Her touch made my skin crawl and the noises…” Chase gulped and freed a hand from clutching Wilson to press to his mouth.
After several breaths he dropped his hand to Wilson’s thigh and gripped him there. “I don’t remember it very well. I think I screamed or maybe fought her. Wrapping me in a blanket did wonders for keeping me still. It made me a little crazy until my skin got used to the feel. Everything was hazy for a while. Then Thor showed up. Jama punched him because she thought he was the one who’d had me.”
Chase began to knead Wilson’s thigh and Wilson gritted his teeth because it wasn’t the best feeling, but he wasn’t about to interrupt Chase now.
“I could tell them apart instantly. They all look the same for the most part. Cookie-cutter aliens. I could tell Thor wasn’t Loki. That he was mad that Loki had mistreated me.” Chase went very still. “I knew, you know. I knew he’d done something to screw with my vision at the very least.”
Wilson went cold, then hot with suppressed rage. House didn’t look much better, his hand clenching and unclenching on doorjamb where he was holding himself up.
“I went to work for Jama’s family herding the sheep and cattle. Cattle aren’t quite as stupid as sheep. I ordered books about vision from a catalog Jama’s uncle found for me. I tried to find a condition that matched my symptoms. I didn’t understand enough of the medical terminology.”
Wilson could feel the bitterness radiating off of Chase.
“I’d never paid attention to my father’s work. I sat on a rock outside of Jama’s house and I made a decision. I went back. I groveled to get the money for medical school. I learned, I read, and I could never find anything that matched. So…I stumbled across an article House wrote one day. It caught my attention and I hunted down everything I could. He was the best. If anyone could tell me what was wrong with my vision, he could.”
Chase made a bitter noise, and then he gripped Wilson tighter. “I got the job working for him and within a half-hour I knew I couldn’t ask him. He cared.”
Wilson raised his eyebrows at House, who scowled back.
“He was horrible to everyone, but he cared about finding the answer. Not what people thought, or politics, but the answer. He hated lying. And there was no way I could ask without lying, because he’d never let me continue to work if I told him the truth. He’d have called me crazy. And yet, he could have figured it out. He would have kept digging until he found what was wrong. It made me so mad, so very mad. Mad I couldn’t ask. Mad at myself, mad at him.”
Wilson pretended not to watch as House’s face softened as he started to understand why Chase had ratted him out. “Can you tell me what your vision does exactly?”
Chase sniffed once and let his grip on Wilson loosen slightly. “Colors don’t stay the same. Different lighting, my energy levels, lots of stuff can affect it. Drives me nuts. That’s like colorblindness, I know, but the part that’s annoying but sometimes useful is the colors and symbols that’ll appear around people.”
Wilson blinked. House stared. “Symbols?” asked Wilson.
“Uh huh. Labels, I think. They’re in some weird language. Anyway. I can tell when people are lying. How they are feeling. And certain people show up this one color and I still don’t know exactly why. Bad part is it comes and goes. Suddenly, with no warning it’ll appear, then it’ll disappear, leaving behind a headache usually.”
“You can’t control it?”
“Not that I can tell. It doesn’t hurt so much since I came to work for House. Since I started living with him it barely hurts at all.”
“Huh.” Wilson pulled his hand from Chase’s hair and jerked a thumb towards the bedroom. House nodded and disappeared silently, being careful to put the door back into the almost closed position it had been in. “Let’s go to bed. I’ll take the middle it you want.”
Chase sat up reluctantly. “No. I need to be in the middle.”
Wilson gripped Chase’s forearm. “You don’t need to push yourself.”
Chase shook his head. “I can see the worry both of you have for me. I want things to go back to what they were like before I,” Chase drew a measured breath, “I was assaulted.”
Wilson rubbed his fingertips in tiny circles on Chase’s forearm. “Not at the expense of your wellbeing.”
Chase blinked, then he smiled. “Sometimes I forget that you care too.”
Wilson pulled Chase’s hand up to his mouth and kissed his palm. “Damn straight I do.” Wilson stood and pulled Chase up as well. “Let’s go see if he’s asleep.”
****
John stared at what amounted to his commanding officer sleeping on a cot House had arranged to have brought in. He wondered when exactly he’d lost control of his life. He didn’t think it really could be pinned on losing two of his buddies in Afghanistan and getting more or less exiled to Antarctica. He wondered if it had been when he was trying to out-fly an alien missile accidentally misfired at him while he’d been flying O’Neill that day. Actually, it had probably been when he’d flown Rodney’s modified nuclear bombs down the throat of the Hive ships that had been bent on taking Atlantis.
Rodney made a small noise in his sleep. John watched as O’Neill stirred a little before settling again.
No, it had definitely been when he listened to Rodney try to explain his feelings when he’d thought John couldn’t hear. John rubbed at the bandage covering his knife wound. He’d gradually grown to love Rodney. It hadn’t been until Koyla had fallen backwards through the stargate after nearly killing both Rodney and Elizabeth that he’d really admitted to himself that it was love he felt for Rodney. Watching Carson bandage a silent Rodney’s arm where Koyla’s knife had sliced had made John cold with rage. Rodney had chosen just the wrong moment to look up and had misinterpreted the look in John’s eyes as being pissed at Rodney for giving up information.
John snorted softly. Just as though I hadn’t told him staying alive matters most. Surviving to think of a way out of the situation is what matters. It was just that Rodney didn’t listen. Not really. Oh, he paid attention, memorized what was said if he was focused on the conversation, but none of it was internalized.
Suddenly Rodney made another noise and jerked upright in his bed. John watched from under his eyelashes as Rodney sat and panted as quietly as he’d ever seen. After catching his breath, Rodney picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Hello. Could I speak to Henry Deacon, please?”
John wanted to ask what had gotten into Rodney that he’d be not only quiet, but also polite in the middle of the night.
“Hi, Henry.” Rodney gripped the phone a little tighter. “No, I’m not coming back. I just wanted to know how you were doing.”
Rodney cocked his head slightly. “What’s wrong? …yes, I think something is wrong; you sound wrong.”
Rodney glanced at the cot where O’Neill lay sleeping. “Oh, Henry. I told Stark that thing was a really, really bad idea. I’m sorry you lost her.”
Even with his chest tight from the sadness he could hear in Rodney’s voice, John nearly laughed as Rodney suddenly made a face. “Oh, ha ha. I’m not crazy or dying. Although I came a little close today; well, actually yesterday now…What? No, just a stupid criminal with a knife. I’m okay.”
A moment of quiet before Rodney said, “Henry, have you ever thought about working somewhere else?” Rodney snorted. “No, I’m not suggesting you go back to repairing space shuttles.”
John fought to keep his face frozen in the expression of relaxed sleep that he’d long ago perfected. Space shuttles? That is a guy I’d like to meet. John watched as Rodney wrapped the phone’s cord around his hand in the low light. Nothing ever got very dark in a hospital, even at night.
“Henry, even if you could get that stupid time machine to work, it’d just rip apart the universe in a few years. Trust me, space in this area can’t handle too much more stress.”
“Actually you aren’t classified high enough to know.” Rodney was smiling his smug smile now. “I am not kidding. If you want to know you’ll have to agree to join the project I’m with.” Now Rodney frowned, which made John a little nervous. “What happened?” Rodney leaned forward and rested his head in his free hand with his elbow on his bent leg as he listened. “Really bright light? And he didn’t show back up where he’d been left?”
John couldn’t help the twitch that time, but Rodney was too focused on his conversation to notice.
“Not good. No, no, I don’t think he’s in danger of anything exactly, but he really, really, needs a couple of doctors I know to look him over.” Rodney unwrapped his hand from the phone cord and made an angry gesture. “I don’t care, Henry. We’ll get them the clearance. See if you can talk them into bringing him to this hospital…”
John listened as Rodney recited the address for House’s hospital and wondered how long it would be before O’Neill killed Rodney for continuing to pull people into the program.
****
O’Neill lay on his side facing the window and eavesdropped shamelessly on McKay’s conversation. That sounds very, very crappy. Waaaay too close to a description of a Daniel-death-but-not situation. I hope House and his…partners don’t go crazy from all this. Hmm. I wonder if partner is the proper word to use. I ought to ask Daniel and watch him squirm his way out of answering. Maybe I should call and ask him to see if young me wouldn’t mind coming to this party. Daniel could fly with him. If we’re going to be a target, we might as well be the biggest target we can manage.
He shifted onto his back now that Rodney had gotten off the phone and was snoring. He could still feel Sheppard’s eyes on him so he wasn’t sleeping. Well, if I’m going to be cranky in the morning, at least I won’t be the only one. O’Neill resettled his aching leg and went to sleep.
****
(Part 10)