Jul. 30th, 2006 04:42 pm
Title: The Oncoming Storm
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lovely_ambitionTitle: The Oncoming Storm
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House & Chase
Prompt: Thunder
Word Count: 398
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Chase used to be afraid of storms. Now, he loves them because House does.
When he was a child, Chase hated thunderstorms for what they were, a cataclysmic smashing of clouds so far above the surface that they only heard the echo of it. When he was just six, he would run and hide in the basement, peering upwards and hoping it would roll over soon because with every thundering vibration through the house, he felt like it would somehow invade the walls and get him.
Fears tended to be irrational, most of the time.
When he was nine years old, Chase realized that he shouldn’t be afraid of thunder because thunder couldn’t hurt him. What could hurt him were things like alcohol, things like work, things like responsibilities.
His mother used to watch the storms roll in off the ocean and would point to the lightning with a tumbler in her hand and her hair all loose, the humidity of the oncoming storm unraveling it from its’ once tight set.
“That,” she would tell him in her low voice, the one he realized later meant she’d been crying, “is the storm, Robbie. And we all get caught up in the middle of it, whether we want to or not.”
He would watch her quietly. “And why’s it thunder?”
She would catch his eyes and they would be rimmed with red. “Because God is very, very angry with us.”
*
God had never been very, very angry with House or maybe House just stopped taking his calls because Chase’s boss had never seen fit to be cross with oncoming storms or the thunder that eventually rolled in and boomed overhead. In fact, House loved storms with thunder and lightning.
Chase had asked why one night, trying to get him to answer a question about a woman’s white-cell count while House stared out the window.
“Whole world above us is falling apart,” House had answered. “But it always finds order.”
Chase cleared his throat and had persisted with his question – this was before Foreman, before Cameron even, when he had friends who realized that the time they hung out was the time they spent at work.
Now, when storms rolled in, Chase won’t run for the basement. Instead, he’d pour himself a glass of mineral water and he’d sit on the ledge of the window and watch as the whole world was washed of its’ sins while chaos ruled the sky.
THE END
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House & Chase
Prompt: Thunder
Word Count: 398
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Chase used to be afraid of storms. Now, he loves them because House does.
When he was a child, Chase hated thunderstorms for what they were, a cataclysmic smashing of clouds so far above the surface that they only heard the echo of it. When he was just six, he would run and hide in the basement, peering upwards and hoping it would roll over soon because with every thundering vibration through the house, he felt like it would somehow invade the walls and get him.
Fears tended to be irrational, most of the time.
When he was nine years old, Chase realized that he shouldn’t be afraid of thunder because thunder couldn’t hurt him. What could hurt him were things like alcohol, things like work, things like responsibilities.
His mother used to watch the storms roll in off the ocean and would point to the lightning with a tumbler in her hand and her hair all loose, the humidity of the oncoming storm unraveling it from its’ once tight set.
“That,” she would tell him in her low voice, the one he realized later meant she’d been crying, “is the storm, Robbie. And we all get caught up in the middle of it, whether we want to or not.”
He would watch her quietly. “And why’s it thunder?”
She would catch his eyes and they would be rimmed with red. “Because God is very, very angry with us.”
*
God had never been very, very angry with House or maybe House just stopped taking his calls because Chase’s boss had never seen fit to be cross with oncoming storms or the thunder that eventually rolled in and boomed overhead. In fact, House loved storms with thunder and lightning.
Chase had asked why one night, trying to get him to answer a question about a woman’s white-cell count while House stared out the window.
“Whole world above us is falling apart,” House had answered. “But it always finds order.”
Chase cleared his throat and had persisted with his question – this was before Foreman, before Cameron even, when he had friends who realized that the time they hung out was the time they spent at work.
Now, when storms rolled in, Chase won’t run for the basement. Instead, he’d pour himself a glass of mineral water and he’d sit on the ledge of the window and watch as the whole world was washed of its’ sins while chaos ruled the sky.
THE END
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