alanwolfmoon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alanwolfmoon) wrote2009-05-09 11:08 am
alanwolfmoon) wrote2009-05-09 11:08 am
Entry tags:
Silent Proposal
Title: Silent Proposal
Pairing: House/+Chase (slash if you've got goggles, close friendship otherwise)
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG
Warnings: not much.
Summary: A while after something changed Chase's life, House makes a proposal.
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: Just a sweet little fic, a little sad but fluffy by the end.
T
It really shouldn’t have happened.
But he also really shouldn’t have trusted PPTH security.
So he should have been more aware.
He should have been listening to the noises outside the door.
Ironic, that listening would have saved him.
But he hadn’t listened, and he had opened the door, just as the man opened fire.
It hadn’t been the bullet, not directly.
It had been the meningitis he’d developed later.
But it didn’t really matter, because he wouldn’t have developed it, if he hadn’t been shot.
It wasn’t like House’s shooting.
He’d been okay, with only a slight clumsiness of his left foot and ankle that actually resulted from the trauma to his head.
He’d been okay for two days after the shooting, though sleeping.
If he’d been awake more, he might have noticed.
But he didn’t, and House had made sure he was well medicated for the pain from the other bullet, the one that had lodged in his shoulder.
That one had been inconsequential medically, but had hurt like hell.
Not that he was blaming House, for the amount of medication he’d been on.
He distinctly remembered slurring a very sincere thank you to his former boss, and having House chuckle at his drugged-up state.
That chuckle was one of the last things he had heard.
He hadn’t known it at the time.
But even though he hadn’t known it would be the last time he heard House’s laughter, he had cherished it because it was something he had rarely heard and even more rarely provoked.
House had been strange, happy when he got there, sad by the time he left.
Chase had figured it out, in the months and years since.
He’d been happy Chase was alive, but sad to see him hurt.
It was so human that it had taken Chase a long time to decide that it had actually been what was going on in House’s mind.
Of course, Chase no longer doubted it when House acted like a human being around him.
Mostly because House didn’t bother hiding things from a guy who didn’t really talk to anyone except House himself.
Not that Chase couldn’t talk to anyone else.
He’d gotten pretty good at lip reading, and the people he was closest to before it happened had made an effort to learn sign language, or at least taken a class in communicating with the Deaf.
But somehow, he’d drifted away from his friends in the surgical department, away from the people in NICU that he still sometimes worked with.
Drifted back towards the collection of strange, interesting people that made up the diagnostics department.
He was not currently working diagnostics, but if the board voted the way he thought it would vote on an incident in the operating room, he might have to fall back to that, though it has little to do with his disability, and much more to do with the fact he learned medicine from House.
House had made it pretty damn clear that he would be welcome to come back.
Of course, that didn’t guarantee that House wouldn’t screw with him, but it did mean that House would not force him to quit, something Chase knew the older doctor was quite capable of doing.
No, most of the reason that he mostly talked with House was that… he just talked with House a lot.
There wasn’t much time left over to talk to anyone else.
And what time there was, he usually spent with Foreman and Cameron, who had long since given up giving a crap about how House acted or didn’t act.
The lights flashed, and he jumped a little, looking away from the window he had been staring out.
House was by the door, taking off his motorcycle helmet, one hand still on the light-switch..
Chase had been on the bike a few times since it had happened.
It was exciting, but he would be the first to admit he was also terrified riding it.
House had given up trying to teach him how to ride it himself several months ago, with the incident that had ended up with a huge scratch on the side that had previously been unmarred, and a twisted ankle and skinned leg on Chase. .
Chase had apologized for about and hour straight, but House had honestly seemed to be just glad Chase was not seriously hurt, and not really caring about the bike.
House grinned at him, in a way that made him fear for his safety… or at least, the safety of his as-of-yet clear of punishments from Cuddy calendar.
House picked up a plastic bag from where he’d set it by the door, and limped over to sit next to him on the couch.
Chase likes House’s apartment.
Not only is it just a really nice building, but the stuff that’s in it… is so *House*.
The whole place reminds him of House.
Hell, it even smells like House.
House sat next to him, leered, and got up.
Chase blinked, a bit bewildered.
What had that been about?
House grabbed his arm, and tried to haul him to his feet.
Chase rolled his eyes, pulled himself free, as House couldn’t actually pull that hard with his bad leg, and got to his feet.
“What?”
House jerked his thumb at the stepstool by a bookcase.
Chase understood—House probably needed to change a light bulb, or something, and didn’t want to struggle with the stepladder.
Chase got it, and followed House over to a corner of the living room.
Then blinked.
There were no lights there, just the doorbell speaker box.
House handed him a box almost identical to the one on the wall, but with a plastic disk.
Chase understood—the doorbell was probably broken, something he definitely would not have noticed—and nodded, taking the box and climbing up the stepladder.
He unscrewed the first box with the screwdriver House handed him, and futzed with the new one, until it seemed to be connected the same was the old one had been, then screwed it in, and looked at House.
House nodded, and went outside the apartment, most likely to check if it work.
A bright light went off right next to Chase’s face, and he nearly jumped off the ladder.
House came back in, grinning at Chase, who was clutching the handles of the stepladder, and staring at him.
House has made adjustments for Chase, before.
Mostly consisting of having the captioning on on his TV all the time, so any show the TIVO records will have them—which is actually why Chase was here before House, so he could watch a CME program the TIVO in the doctor’s lounge recorded without captions.
But an actual physical modification of House’s apartment is different than spending thirty seconds changing a setting on the TV.
It’s… it’s saying House expects Chase to be here a lot… which, actually, isn’t a big assumption, because Chase does spend a lot of his time here.
It’s also saying… well… guests don’t need to be able to answer doorbells.
Residents are the only ones that need to be able to answer the door.
Chase looked at House, silently.
House looked back at him, face impassive, waiting for Chase to figure it out.
Residents.
Chase blinks, slowly.
Then climbs down the ladder, carefully, and turns to face House again.
Residents, which Chase is currently not.
Chase smiles, slowly.
“Of course I’ll move in with you,” says his smile.
“I’m glad,” says House’s grin.
Pairing: House/+Chase (slash if you've got goggles, close friendship otherwise)
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG
Warnings: not much.
Summary: A while after something changed Chase's life, House makes a proposal.
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: Just a sweet little fic, a little sad but fluffy by the end.
T
It really shouldn’t have happened.
But he also really shouldn’t have trusted PPTH security.
So he should have been more aware.
He should have been listening to the noises outside the door.
Ironic, that listening would have saved him.
But he hadn’t listened, and he had opened the door, just as the man opened fire.
It hadn’t been the bullet, not directly.
It had been the meningitis he’d developed later.
But it didn’t really matter, because he wouldn’t have developed it, if he hadn’t been shot.
It wasn’t like House’s shooting.
He’d been okay, with only a slight clumsiness of his left foot and ankle that actually resulted from the trauma to his head.
He’d been okay for two days after the shooting, though sleeping.
If he’d been awake more, he might have noticed.
But he didn’t, and House had made sure he was well medicated for the pain from the other bullet, the one that had lodged in his shoulder.
That one had been inconsequential medically, but had hurt like hell.
Not that he was blaming House, for the amount of medication he’d been on.
He distinctly remembered slurring a very sincere thank you to his former boss, and having House chuckle at his drugged-up state.
That chuckle was one of the last things he had heard.
He hadn’t known it at the time.
But even though he hadn’t known it would be the last time he heard House’s laughter, he had cherished it because it was something he had rarely heard and even more rarely provoked.
House had been strange, happy when he got there, sad by the time he left.
Chase had figured it out, in the months and years since.
He’d been happy Chase was alive, but sad to see him hurt.
It was so human that it had taken Chase a long time to decide that it had actually been what was going on in House’s mind.
Of course, Chase no longer doubted it when House acted like a human being around him.
Mostly because House didn’t bother hiding things from a guy who didn’t really talk to anyone except House himself.
Not that Chase couldn’t talk to anyone else.
He’d gotten pretty good at lip reading, and the people he was closest to before it happened had made an effort to learn sign language, or at least taken a class in communicating with the Deaf.
But somehow, he’d drifted away from his friends in the surgical department, away from the people in NICU that he still sometimes worked with.
Drifted back towards the collection of strange, interesting people that made up the diagnostics department.
He was not currently working diagnostics, but if the board voted the way he thought it would vote on an incident in the operating room, he might have to fall back to that, though it has little to do with his disability, and much more to do with the fact he learned medicine from House.
House had made it pretty damn clear that he would be welcome to come back.
Of course, that didn’t guarantee that House wouldn’t screw with him, but it did mean that House would not force him to quit, something Chase knew the older doctor was quite capable of doing.
No, most of the reason that he mostly talked with House was that… he just talked with House a lot.
There wasn’t much time left over to talk to anyone else.
And what time there was, he usually spent with Foreman and Cameron, who had long since given up giving a crap about how House acted or didn’t act.
The lights flashed, and he jumped a little, looking away from the window he had been staring out.
House was by the door, taking off his motorcycle helmet, one hand still on the light-switch..
Chase had been on the bike a few times since it had happened.
It was exciting, but he would be the first to admit he was also terrified riding it.
House had given up trying to teach him how to ride it himself several months ago, with the incident that had ended up with a huge scratch on the side that had previously been unmarred, and a twisted ankle and skinned leg on Chase. .
Chase had apologized for about and hour straight, but House had honestly seemed to be just glad Chase was not seriously hurt, and not really caring about the bike.
House grinned at him, in a way that made him fear for his safety… or at least, the safety of his as-of-yet clear of punishments from Cuddy calendar.
House picked up a plastic bag from where he’d set it by the door, and limped over to sit next to him on the couch.
Chase likes House’s apartment.
Not only is it just a really nice building, but the stuff that’s in it… is so *House*.
The whole place reminds him of House.
Hell, it even smells like House.
House sat next to him, leered, and got up.
Chase blinked, a bit bewildered.
What had that been about?
House grabbed his arm, and tried to haul him to his feet.
Chase rolled his eyes, pulled himself free, as House couldn’t actually pull that hard with his bad leg, and got to his feet.
“What?”
House jerked his thumb at the stepstool by a bookcase.
Chase understood—House probably needed to change a light bulb, or something, and didn’t want to struggle with the stepladder.
Chase got it, and followed House over to a corner of the living room.
Then blinked.
There were no lights there, just the doorbell speaker box.
House handed him a box almost identical to the one on the wall, but with a plastic disk.
Chase understood—the doorbell was probably broken, something he definitely would not have noticed—and nodded, taking the box and climbing up the stepladder.
He unscrewed the first box with the screwdriver House handed him, and futzed with the new one, until it seemed to be connected the same was the old one had been, then screwed it in, and looked at House.
House nodded, and went outside the apartment, most likely to check if it work.
A bright light went off right next to Chase’s face, and he nearly jumped off the ladder.
House came back in, grinning at Chase, who was clutching the handles of the stepladder, and staring at him.
House has made adjustments for Chase, before.
Mostly consisting of having the captioning on on his TV all the time, so any show the TIVO records will have them—which is actually why Chase was here before House, so he could watch a CME program the TIVO in the doctor’s lounge recorded without captions.
But an actual physical modification of House’s apartment is different than spending thirty seconds changing a setting on the TV.
It’s… it’s saying House expects Chase to be here a lot… which, actually, isn’t a big assumption, because Chase does spend a lot of his time here.
It’s also saying… well… guests don’t need to be able to answer doorbells.
Residents are the only ones that need to be able to answer the door.
Chase looked at House, silently.
House looked back at him, face impassive, waiting for Chase to figure it out.
Residents.
Chase blinks, slowly.
Then climbs down the ladder, carefully, and turns to face House again.
Residents, which Chase is currently not.
Chase smiles, slowly.
“Of course I’ll move in with you,” says his smile.
“I’m glad,” says House’s grin.
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The slow but sure way to Chase/House slash. Tender, but not sappy.
Well done :)
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(Anonymous) 2009-05-10 03:40 am (UTC)(link)no subject
I also agree that House would be more open to Chase if he was hurt.
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