Nov. 6th, 2005 12:00 am
Title: Inheritance
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lovely_ambitionTitle: Inheritance
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House, Chase
Prompt: Independence
Word Count: 514
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: With Rowan finally gone, Chase inherits possessions and freedom.
It’s spring in Australia, though the whole of the Northern Hemisphere simply regards October as another brisk, fall month. Robert Chase dresses like it’s winter with his long black coat and pale visage. The casket is slowly lowered into the damp ground and the Father beckons Chase forward to cover the casket in dirt -- ashes to ashes, dust to dust -- and he holds the rose so hard that he bleeds from the thorns, but doesn’t bother to notice.
The funeral is crowded – there’s media, for Christ’s sake, wanting a photograph for their captions – full of well-wishers and associates, people who only ever knew the name and never the man.
Chase scowls for every picture that’s taken and tries to focus on the prayers and saying goodbye. Cameron has come and she stands flanked by Wilson and House, there by their own guilt for not divulging details about that dangerous disease that dictated Rowan Chase’s fate.
Chase ignores them all as he finally releases the rose in hand and lets go of his father once and for all.
*
The wake is held at his father’s – well, no, according to the solicitor, it’s his now; all his – house, caterers milling about and pleasing people while Chase sits in his father’s old smoking chair – deep and plush burgundy leather – nursing a watered-down scotch. He feels old; worse, he feels like he belongs.
“Good eats,” someone interrupts his thoughts and Chase glances up to find House standing above him with a beer and a plate of food. He sits on a dining room chair, uninvited. “So, you staying in the Land of Oz now that you’re filthy rich?”
“You assume I like it here.”
“You might, now,” House comments, sipping at his drink.
Chase is honestly curious. “Why’s that?”
“Your father’s gone. Nothing to run from here.” Chase glances around him, sighting distant cousins every now and again. There are memories to sprint from, there are trinkets and pictures and mementos that are enough to cause him to run a marathon just to get away. This also means that if Chase flees back over the Pacific, his choice to work for House is suddenly more.
He’s now a man who could buy a hospital and he’ll be working in a Jersey teaching hospital. “Well, I’m selling his car,” Chase remarks; that old classic heap, the grey Cadillac in perfect condition. “And then investing some of his money.”
“And then?”
Chase turns to look at House, sipping back the last of the scotch. “Then I’ll show up for work on Monday and you can insult the new shirts and ties I plan to buy.” Chase catches the pleased grin on House’s face, but it’s gone before he can blink.
“Good,” House says. “The nurses would definitely miss you. And god knows I’d miss insulting your ties.”
Chase just smiles, settling into the chair a little more. It’s a nice feeling in a morbid way, that the last thing he was running from is now finally gone and he’s finally free to do whatever he wants.
end
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House, Chase
Prompt: Independence
Word Count: 514
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: With Rowan finally gone, Chase inherits possessions and freedom.
It’s spring in Australia, though the whole of the Northern Hemisphere simply regards October as another brisk, fall month. Robert Chase dresses like it’s winter with his long black coat and pale visage. The casket is slowly lowered into the damp ground and the Father beckons Chase forward to cover the casket in dirt -- ashes to ashes, dust to dust -- and he holds the rose so hard that he bleeds from the thorns, but doesn’t bother to notice.
The funeral is crowded – there’s media, for Christ’s sake, wanting a photograph for their captions – full of well-wishers and associates, people who only ever knew the name and never the man.
Chase scowls for every picture that’s taken and tries to focus on the prayers and saying goodbye. Cameron has come and she stands flanked by Wilson and House, there by their own guilt for not divulging details about that dangerous disease that dictated Rowan Chase’s fate.
Chase ignores them all as he finally releases the rose in hand and lets go of his father once and for all.
*
The wake is held at his father’s – well, no, according to the solicitor, it’s his now; all his – house, caterers milling about and pleasing people while Chase sits in his father’s old smoking chair – deep and plush burgundy leather – nursing a watered-down scotch. He feels old; worse, he feels like he belongs.
“Good eats,” someone interrupts his thoughts and Chase glances up to find House standing above him with a beer and a plate of food. He sits on a dining room chair, uninvited. “So, you staying in the Land of Oz now that you’re filthy rich?”
“You assume I like it here.”
“You might, now,” House comments, sipping at his drink.
Chase is honestly curious. “Why’s that?”
“Your father’s gone. Nothing to run from here.” Chase glances around him, sighting distant cousins every now and again. There are memories to sprint from, there are trinkets and pictures and mementos that are enough to cause him to run a marathon just to get away. This also means that if Chase flees back over the Pacific, his choice to work for House is suddenly more.
He’s now a man who could buy a hospital and he’ll be working in a Jersey teaching hospital. “Well, I’m selling his car,” Chase remarks; that old classic heap, the grey Cadillac in perfect condition. “And then investing some of his money.”
“And then?”
Chase turns to look at House, sipping back the last of the scotch. “Then I’ll show up for work on Monday and you can insult the new shirts and ties I plan to buy.” Chase catches the pleased grin on House’s face, but it’s gone before he can blink.
“Good,” House says. “The nurses would definitely miss you. And god knows I’d miss insulting your ties.”
Chase just smiles, settling into the chair a little more. It’s a nice feeling in a morbid way, that the last thing he was running from is now finally gone and he’s finally free to do whatever he wants.
end
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