Dr. Robert Chase (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trueaussiedoc) wrote2009-12-24 10:46 am
trueaussiedoc) wrote2009-12-24 10:46 am
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just_muse_me | 26.10.4. Sex Pistols lyrics
26.10.4. My Way - Sex Pistols
Regrets I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
I saw it through without exemption
I've planned each charted course
Each careful step along the highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
Afraid to Run Verse | Co-written with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
imgrounded
Pre-holiday explosion in the Clinic was always inevitable. Explosion was also the appropriate description, because just about every patient who came through it had one bodily fluid or another exploding from an array of bodily orifices. When Diagnostics failed to bring in a new case that week, Cuddy had everyone - including House - on Clinic Duty to try and dilute the constant stream of patients, a lot of whom were ailing due to overindulgence at Christmas parties with the likes of dehydration or food poisoning. And then there was the typical colds and flus from the wintery weather. Chase was sure his nose was about to start running just from sympathy of the amount of flu cases he had seen and the amount of prescriptions he had written for flu pills.
His feet were starting to ache, and he was regretting skipping his morning tea break now and cutting his lunch in half. It helped to keep busy and he didn't feel like sitting in the cafeteria making small talk with colleagues. He wasn't feeling particularly festive in any way, shape or form after everything that had happened in the last couple of months. No one had asked him why he had sutures in his head, though. After belting House, they all probably just thought he got into another brawl with someone who asked how he was, and that was just the way he preferred things to be. The only person who dared to ask him if he was okay was Foreman, and the question was always responded with a succinct 'Fine' from Chase. Both men knew those conversations would always go down like that, and both knew Foreman would never push for more information. Another invite came fromTaub for Chase to come for 'Christmas' dinner, even though he was Jewish. This time Chase had just raised an eyebrow at him and Taub back off with a smirk and his hands raised in surrender. Maybe one day Chase would make an effort to become friends with his colleagues, today just wasn't that day.
He pocketed his prescription pad and hung his stethoscope around his neck so he could exit the exam room for what felt like the millionth time that day. The patient was sent off with a script for antibiotics for an STD. He dropped the medical record into the basket for finished cases and picked up the next one from the slot, fighting the urge to yawn and lean against the reception desk for a rest.
After Peter had received Chase's package, the seed was planted. He had thought about it for all of a day before he went to his boss to ask for time off, and was surprised to find it granted without a second thought. Peter had more than proven his worth as a paramedic, and considering the amount of shifts he actually worked, his boss seemed almost relieved that Peter wanted a break. Like they wouldn't be seen as a total slave driver. He also knew he wouldn't exactly be missed in New York. His brother was MIA as it was, no doubt busy with all things political, and Noah Bennett hadn't come looking for him in a little while.
It was what he'd chosen to do with the time off that surprised even him. He knew Dr Chase worked at Princeton Plainsboro Teach Hospital, only the trick was finding him in the sprawling building. He held a couple of cups of coffee in his hands, his courier bag slung across his shoulders. It felt strange walking around the hospital without his paramedic uniform on, or even a pair of scrubs. He was in jeans and a sweater, his dark hair falling in his eyes. It had grown quite a bit over the past few months, no thought to having it short again after Elle's unwanted haircut when he'd been taken into The Company.
He smiled to himself when he spotted Chase at the reception area near what he assumed had to be a clinic of some sort given the amount of patients waiting. He cleared his throat as he dared to walk up to the counter, risking patient anger for stealing a few moments of their doctor's time. He set down one of the coffee cups next to Chase. "You look like you could use this."
Chase nearly wet himself in surprise. In fact, he jumped a little when he was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice that wasn't the receptionist. It would have been a lot cooler if he maintained composure and easily reacted to Peter's presence, but instead, he gaped for a few moments, glancing between Peter's face and the coffee cup on offer. "Oh... hey..." he managed once he stopped blinking in surprise. He cleared his throat and glanced around, eyes momentarily landing on House across the reception desk who was watching the scene with evident interest. Oh great. Chase just knew this would lead to a grilling. Peter wasn't a patient, because he wasn't signing any forms or sitting in the waiting room. He was offering Chase coffee, therefore he knew Chase. Chase really hoped he wouldn't be forced to poke House in the eye or something because anymore interrogations and he was at least going to end up using colourful expletives with his now no longer ex-boss.
But he laughed a little, once again looking at Peter in disbelief and trying not to let his cheeks heat up in embarrassment when he remembered he had sent Peter those paramedic t-shirts as thanks. He had wanted to do something, and when nothing seemed like enough, he went for something light-hearted and amusing instead. The thing was, even if he had often thought about the paramedic since the guy saved his life, Chase hadn't anticipated ever seeing him again. Until now. Now, where Peter was standing in front of him offering him coffee. "You're here... in Princeton," he added pointlessly and then snorted in amusement at his own stupidity and held up his hand. "It's been a long day... long year... sorry. Just hang on a minute." He pointedly ignored House's piercing gaze and flagged down the receptionist, telling her he was going to take his afternoon break. Of course, Foreman then exited another of the exam rooms and merely raised an eyebrow in question at Chase. Chase ignored it, turning back to Peter and finally accepting the coffee. "Want to join me?"
"You noticed that, huh?" Peter had watched Chase's face with amusement, only following his glances briefly. The guy with the cane was someone he'd ask about if the opportunity came up, and the other doctor had to have just been a colleague. Apparently Chase having a visitor was of interest to others, and Peter almost regretted the visit when it hadn't even really started yet. He just hadn't known what else to do. It wasn't like he could rock up Chase's home. He should have called first.
Peter bit his lip in a moment of hesitation before he just smiled again, shrugging off his concerns. He was allowed to make friends, right? Even with people he'd saved, or doctors in other states. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He had nothing to feel guilty, or ashamed about. "Sure. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your work. Just took a chance. My timing's not always been great."
Chase shook his head as he turned his back on both House and Foreman. Hopefully the curiosity would eat them both alive. "No, mate, trust me. You're well doing me a favour. I've only taken one fifteen minute break today. You might have bad timing on account of the fact the waiting room is full, but you have no idea just howfriggen much I needed a coffee, so cheers. The Clinic has been overrun all week, no need to feel guilty. Pre -Christmas rush and all that. Wankers boozing too much and hurting themselves. Oh wait, no. That was me," he added, throwing Peter a smirk as he took a sip of the coffee. It was like sipping on heaven, almost better than sex. "This is almost better than sex," he decided to verbalise, reassuring Peter he wasn't at all bothered by his visit. In fact, it felt oddly comforting to see the guy again.
Peter had to chuckle as he took a sip of his coffee. It was good coffee, but he wasn't in need of it as much as Chase. "Not sure I'm the one to judge on that comment. It's been... a long time. I can't remember how amazing sex is, let alone if coffee would be better than it, or not." Peter frowned a little in concern, and pointed to his head with his finger. "How's the wound? Sure you're not going to kiss the floor from no breaks?"
Chase's eyebrows shot up at the sex comment and he looked at Peter closely to see if he was joking. "Why? I mean, shit. You don't have to answer that, I don't mean to sound so bloody blunt. But jeez, mate. Seriously? How does someone like you not get a decent and regular lay?" he asked. He couldn't help it, blunt could often be his middle name and now he was just burning with curiosity. Peter far from looked like a gorilla's arse, so it couldn't be that. His hand went up to his head once attention was drawn back to it. "It's healing okay, seem to wake up most days with a bitch of a headache, but I'm better at work right now. Sitting around at home isn't a good idea. I feel okay, just realised how much coffee was needed when you showed up with it, so thanks again. I do appreciate it. But... you can't just tell me you were in the neighbourhood when New York is over two hours drive away."
Peter raised his eyebrows in return, but more because he hadn't quite anticipated Chase's clear shock. Then he just started to look embarrassed, and took another sip of his coffee before rolling his shoulders. "It's fine, I don't really have a problem talking about it. I mean, it's probably something I need to work on. The talking, not the sex," Peter corrected before he frowned, and considered his own words. "Ah, well, sex would be nice to work on, I have to admit. Just... it's been easier to keep to myself. I work a lot." He nodded as he listened to Chase. "Headaches are pretty normal, but then you'd know that. And no, I wasn't in the neighbourhood. You actually inspired me to take a couple of days off. It's been a while, and also, I just wanted to say thanks for the t-shirts. Although, you really didn't have to get me anything. I just wanted to know you were okay."
"Well, I work a lot too, but I always have time for-" Chase stopped abruptly, frowning. He took a sip of the coffee and swallowed it, clearing his throat again. "You know what, that's not a direction this conversation should go at all because it's just bullshit. The last two years mean I have no entitlement to judge on things like casual sex. So just feel free to ignore me on that front. I just... you shouldn't cut yourself off, mate. I can think of a good ten chicks in calling distance right now who would gladly jump into bed with you for a roll." He didn't lead Peter to the busy cafeteria. Knowing his luck, House would follow just for the fuck of it. Instead, he picked one of the ward waiting rooms that only had a handful of people in it. There were some comfortable armchairs by the window, and it was as away from prying eyes as possible. He sunk down into one of them and then pressed his lips together. "I figured you'd probably think something along those lines, but the truth is, there wasn't anything I could have given you that would have been enough to show how grateful I am. The thing is, if you hadn't been there, I probably wouldn't have done much to take care of myself... probably would have ended up just letting fate take it's course. I was in a fucked up head space and the booze was just a bad mix, so I did need to thank you, somehow."
"Are you with someone?" Peter probed gently. He could remember some of the drunken ramblings. Something to do with a woman and sperm, and someone named House. He realised a moment later that it probably wasn't so gentle. For some reason though, Peter just felt the need to clarify Peter's status. "I know I shouldn't cut myself off, but I just... It's hard. I've never been good at casual. I'm kind of all, or nothing, you know? And the last couple times it's been all, and I can't take being close to someone again and watching them get ripped away from me." He let out a sigh, and made a face. "Sorry, man. Shouldn't be dumping this on you. Hey, it's fine, really. Just doing my job. I can't exactly stand around and watch someone get hit by a car." Peter reached out to give Chase's arm a squeeze. "You're welcome, by the way."
Chase was silent as he looked out the window for a few moments. When he turned back to Peter, his posture had slumped just a little and he shook his head, swallowing to wet his throat. "No. Not anymore. I'm, uh... I'm getting a divorce. It lasted six months. It was probably doomed from the start," he had to admit. "There were a lot of external factors at play, including why I shouldn't push you just to go out and have sex for the sake of it. It's how it all started. It was hardly romantic. Before that, it might seem strange, but I understand exactly what you're saying. I was scared of losing people. It was probably why I stupidly pushed too hard to try and make it work with her when we were just too damn different. And please, don't apologise. Feel free to dump anything on me, I might actually understand more than most. But still, being alone can suck way more than the other side of the fence. Don't you get lonely?"
Peter's eyebrows rose slightly, his lips pressed together. "I'm really sorry, I can kind of understand what it's like. My brother... he's divorced, too. Only he had two kids in the bargain, and Heidi had been a part of his life for years. They just grew apart after, he... ah, after he had an accident." Peter being the accident when Nathan flew him high up into the sky to explode safely away from New York. Only Nathan had been badly burned, his face damaged. His life damaged. All because of Peter. It felt like a life time ago given what had passed between now, and then, but Peter would never forget. Not now he had his memories back. He scratched his forehead and brushed his hair out of his face. "I'm kind of sorry you understand. It's not fair when we lose people close to us. And yeah, of course I get lonely. Probably why I work so hard. Figure I'll eventually fill the hole, or just numb it."
"My wife wanted her dead husband's kids. Kind of killed the procreating mood," Chase offered and then scrunched up his nose wryly. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm bitter. The sad part is, the divorce was my fault. I... did something, she didn't approve of it. I didn't cheat or anything like that, she thought I was. That was completely independent to the base issue, though. I'm sorry to hear about your brother. Divorce is... makes you wonder how the relationship even got off the ground in the first place. Then it makes you wonder if you have the energy to try again. The loss thing, yeah. I lost both my parents. My Mum when I was barely seventeen, and the relationship with my Dad was screwed, but his death didn't hurt any less. Maybe made it hurt more, if anything. Long story." He glanced away, watching some nurses pass up the corridor. He cleared his throat again and turned back to Peter, a small frown on his forehead. "A lot of my life is a long story. You don't want to work so hard and wake up one day to realise you're miserable and lonely. I know someone like that. He can be a real arse, in fact, most days, he's a real arse. Some days, I wonder if he's even capable of loving unconditionally. But trust me, you don't want to turn into him."
Peter's eyebrows shot up at the dead husband's kid comment, unable to stop his reaction. He really didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know what to say to any of it, other than this odd sense of relief at finding someone as damaged as he was. Peter had seen some insane things recently. Had dealt with a lot of loss. He understood, just maybe not because of the same circumstances. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he dropped his voice to a low murmur that only Chase could here. "My Dad died. Heart attack. At least that's what we all thought. It was just me, Nathan, and my Mom for a while. It wasn't like we were kids. We were grown up, but it was hard. Dad was very much thePetrelli patriarch, you know? And then there's Mom. She's... well, she's Mom. I'm not actually sure there's a word to adequately describe her. I was never able to live up to her expectations. Nathan was always her favourite. She wanted him to be President. Probably still does. She's very much about status and power. Sometimes, though... Sometimes she's just my Mom. Anyway, my point is that my Dad wasn't dead. He, ah... he came back. Still not sure how it happened. I just know he wasn't who I remembered. Not who we thought he was. Dad's a bastard. And dead. Again." He licked his lips as he looked up at Chase from under his dark hair. "I don't want to be a prick like him. I don't want to be lonely either, but I'm sick of losing people."
Chase was listening and when Peter got to the part about his father dying, he felt dangerously like he was about to choke up and cry. Their experiences with fathers were close, and Chase just knew he was overly fragile in the wake of everything that had happened lately. He pressed his fingers against his lips, not replying straight away and then he cleared his throat. His voice still came out hoarse when he did speak, though and he swallowed to try and dislodge the lump in his throat a little. "Ah," he began and moved his hand to scratch his fingers through the back of his hair. "My Dad had cancer. Lung Cancer, very advanced stages. I didn't know. He came here from Australia to see our Oncologist here, who is one of the best in the country. It looked like he had just come to see me, but I should have known that wasn't the whole story. He was here for days, didn't tell me. When he left, I asked him if he wanted to get a drink, but he turned me down. Pretty much the story of my life, he was never there when I needed him... wanted him. Three months later, got a call he was dead. That's how I found out he had been terminal. He knew when he was here, he only had three months to live. I'm sick of losing people too..." It wasn't an admission he had ever said out loud before and the words felt foreign coming from his lips, but they came with a blunt realisation. This is was why he had tried so hard to make things work with Cameron. He didn't want to lose her, even if they were too different for the relationship to really work. But now that she was gone, in the circumstances it all ended, he couldn't see it as a loss... just a mistake in judgement.
Peter reached out to rest his hand on Chase's shoulder, thumb rubbing against his collarbone. It was a gesture Nathan had always used on Peter, and it was oddly comforting. It was usually when his brother was trying to talk sense into him. Only he knew he didn't have to talk sense to Chase. They were similar in so many ways it was strange, but Peter realised he didn't exactly want the friendship to end here. He liked talking to someone that just got it. He kept some of the finer details out about abilities, and strange powers. He didn't need to freak Chase out. "Makes you wonder what's wrong with you."
Chase gave a slight nod. "Then when you think you get something right, it comes with prices..." he elaborated and shot Peter a faint, grateful smile at the comfort. He didn't know why Peter was so easy to talk to, but he was, and it had been a long time since Chase really had a mate he felt he could just pour his heart out to. Not since he left Australia, and even then, he hadn't ever much been the sort to pour his heart out. He was always the listener when someone else wanted to. "Are you... do you have to be back? To New York? Or can you stick around for a few hours? Maybe we could get a drink after my shift. My shout, even if I'll likely stick to OJ. Still in the 'I'm never drinking ever again' phase. But, you know, Christmas is nearly here, you're really easy to talk to. But if you can't, it's cool. Like I said, Christmas is nearly here. It's busy."
"Christmas..." Peter murmured, looking like he'd only just realise the holiday was coming up. "Shit, I didn't... I mean, I knew. It just wasn't sinking in. Like it was something that happened to other people." Peter dropped his head with a disbelieving laugh. "Wow, I really have become that guy, haven't I? And you know what? I don't need to be back in New York. I think I could use the break for a little while. And I could definitely use the drink. Even if you'll stick to OJ. You're easy to talk to as well, Doctor."
Chase reflexively patted the front of his scrubs, looking for his keys. It was stupid, considering they were in his locker. "I pretty much have nothing to lose, so I'll get my keys for you and you can hang out at my place until I get off at five. The place is in a bit of a state. Newly single again and wallowing in my own self-misery isn't very conducive to housework. But just make yourself at home. It isn't like you didn't open your home up for me when I needed it the most." He paused, both hands wrapping around the half-empty coffee cup, and looked at Peter closely. "Have you got anyone to spend Christmas with?"
Peter watched Chase with a slight look of amazement, before he smiled gratefully. "Thanks for the offer. It would at least keep me free of Christmas crowds if I had to kill time around here, or at some shops. That's one thing I will never miss about Christmas - the crowds." Peter chuckled. "And hey, don't worry about it. I'm definitely not one to judge on the state of your apartment. I'm a single guy, too. Also know what it's like to wallow in self-misery. Um, Christmas? I... I guess it'd be my brother, but he hasn't exactly mentioned any plans and my Mom's too busy looking out for Nathan to remember me. My, ah, my niece would be spending it with her family. She's adopted. My brother is her father. Long story. Again."
"It was hers. I just moved in when... she finally let me move in," Chase said with a wry scrunch of his nose. "Took her two years to give me a draw in her dresser. But old water and all that shit. If you can't get on the same page as any of your family, you're welcome to come here. We can get a pizza or something, watch crappy old action movies, maybe drag the James Bond box set out. I've been in a funk, but it's never fun to spend Christmas alone."
"Or to spend it surrounded by people you don't give a shit about," Peter added. "My family, they're... well, with a politician brother, and the parents I had, there were always 'fundraisers'." Peter couldn't even be bothered to hide the contempt in his voice. "Keeping up appearances, and all that fun stuff. The actual family side of Christmas was minimal. Me and Nathan always made an effort for each other, but it hasn't happened in a while. I'd, um, I'd actually like that. Just relaxing for the holiday. Spending some time with a friend." Peter gave him a crooked smile.
Chase frowned sympathetically and nodded. "I understand. My Dad was a world-renowned rheumatologist. Business dinners, work functions, fundraisers, looking the pristine doctor's son... I really do understand, and I know how much it sucks." He met Peter's smile with one of his own. "Okay, well, we have a date. Plenty of room if you want to stay a couple of days. I've got Christmas off.Cuddy , the boss of the hospital, seems to think I look like I need a break. It'll be good not to have to spend the whole of it picking lint out of my naval."
"Hey, I wouldn't argue with her. My boss seemed to think the same," Peter laughed. "Guess picking our navals really takes a lot of effort." He raised his coffee cup in a toast. "Here's to shit dads, finding people who get it, and Christmas plans we actually want to happen."
Chase had to laugh a little and raised his own cup. "And to paramedics who still work when they're off duty," he added with a smirk. "Cheers, mate."
Word Count | 4,406
Regrets I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
I saw it through without exemption
I've planned each charted course
Each careful step along the highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
Afraid to Run Verse | Co-written with
imgroundedPre-holiday explosion in the Clinic was always inevitable. Explosion was also the appropriate description, because just about every patient who came through it had one bodily fluid or another exploding from an array of bodily orifices. When Diagnostics failed to bring in a new case that week, Cuddy had everyone - including House - on Clinic Duty to try and dilute the constant stream of patients, a lot of whom were ailing due to overindulgence at Christmas parties with the likes of dehydration or food poisoning. And then there was the typical colds and flus from the wintery weather. Chase was sure his nose was about to start running just from sympathy of the amount of flu cases he had seen and the amount of prescriptions he had written for flu pills.
His feet were starting to ache, and he was regretting skipping his morning tea break now and cutting his lunch in half. It helped to keep busy and he didn't feel like sitting in the cafeteria making small talk with colleagues. He wasn't feeling particularly festive in any way, shape or form after everything that had happened in the last couple of months. No one had asked him why he had sutures in his head, though. After belting House, they all probably just thought he got into another brawl with someone who asked how he was, and that was just the way he preferred things to be. The only person who dared to ask him if he was okay was Foreman, and the question was always responded with a succinct 'Fine' from Chase. Both men knew those conversations would always go down like that, and both knew Foreman would never push for more information. Another invite came fromTaub for Chase to come for 'Christmas' dinner, even though he was Jewish. This time Chase had just raised an eyebrow at him and Taub back off with a smirk and his hands raised in surrender. Maybe one day Chase would make an effort to become friends with his colleagues, today just wasn't that day.
He pocketed his prescription pad and hung his stethoscope around his neck so he could exit the exam room for what felt like the millionth time that day. The patient was sent off with a script for antibiotics for an STD. He dropped the medical record into the basket for finished cases and picked up the next one from the slot, fighting the urge to yawn and lean against the reception desk for a rest.
After Peter had received Chase's package, the seed was planted. He had thought about it for all of a day before he went to his boss to ask for time off, and was surprised to find it granted without a second thought. Peter had more than proven his worth as a paramedic, and considering the amount of shifts he actually worked, his boss seemed almost relieved that Peter wanted a break. Like they wouldn't be seen as a total slave driver. He also knew he wouldn't exactly be missed in New York. His brother was MIA as it was, no doubt busy with all things political, and Noah Bennett hadn't come looking for him in a little while.
It was what he'd chosen to do with the time off that surprised even him. He knew Dr Chase worked at Princeton Plainsboro Teach Hospital, only the trick was finding him in the sprawling building. He held a couple of cups of coffee in his hands, his courier bag slung across his shoulders. It felt strange walking around the hospital without his paramedic uniform on, or even a pair of scrubs. He was in jeans and a sweater, his dark hair falling in his eyes. It had grown quite a bit over the past few months, no thought to having it short again after Elle's unwanted haircut when he'd been taken into The Company.
He smiled to himself when he spotted Chase at the reception area near what he assumed had to be a clinic of some sort given the amount of patients waiting. He cleared his throat as he dared to walk up to the counter, risking patient anger for stealing a few moments of their doctor's time. He set down one of the coffee cups next to Chase. "You look like you could use this."
Chase nearly wet himself in surprise. In fact, he jumped a little when he was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice that wasn't the receptionist. It would have been a lot cooler if he maintained composure and easily reacted to Peter's presence, but instead, he gaped for a few moments, glancing between Peter's face and the coffee cup on offer. "Oh... hey..." he managed once he stopped blinking in surprise. He cleared his throat and glanced around, eyes momentarily landing on House across the reception desk who was watching the scene with evident interest. Oh great. Chase just knew this would lead to a grilling. Peter wasn't a patient, because he wasn't signing any forms or sitting in the waiting room. He was offering Chase coffee, therefore he knew Chase. Chase really hoped he wouldn't be forced to poke House in the eye or something because anymore interrogations and he was at least going to end up using colourful expletives with his now no longer ex-boss.
But he laughed a little, once again looking at Peter in disbelief and trying not to let his cheeks heat up in embarrassment when he remembered he had sent Peter those paramedic t-shirts as thanks. He had wanted to do something, and when nothing seemed like enough, he went for something light-hearted and amusing instead. The thing was, even if he had often thought about the paramedic since the guy saved his life, Chase hadn't anticipated ever seeing him again. Until now. Now, where Peter was standing in front of him offering him coffee. "You're here... in Princeton," he added pointlessly and then snorted in amusement at his own stupidity and held up his hand. "It's been a long day... long year... sorry. Just hang on a minute." He pointedly ignored House's piercing gaze and flagged down the receptionist, telling her he was going to take his afternoon break. Of course, Foreman then exited another of the exam rooms and merely raised an eyebrow in question at Chase. Chase ignored it, turning back to Peter and finally accepting the coffee. "Want to join me?"
"You noticed that, huh?" Peter had watched Chase's face with amusement, only following his glances briefly. The guy with the cane was someone he'd ask about if the opportunity came up, and the other doctor had to have just been a colleague. Apparently Chase having a visitor was of interest to others, and Peter almost regretted the visit when it hadn't even really started yet. He just hadn't known what else to do. It wasn't like he could rock up Chase's home. He should have called first.
Peter bit his lip in a moment of hesitation before he just smiled again, shrugging off his concerns. He was allowed to make friends, right? Even with people he'd saved, or doctors in other states. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He had nothing to feel guilty, or ashamed about. "Sure. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your work. Just took a chance. My timing's not always been great."
Chase shook his head as he turned his back on both House and Foreman. Hopefully the curiosity would eat them both alive. "No, mate, trust me. You're well doing me a favour. I've only taken one fifteen minute break today. You might have bad timing on account of the fact the waiting room is full, but you have no idea just howfriggen much I needed a coffee, so cheers. The Clinic has been overrun all week, no need to feel guilty. Pre -Christmas rush and all that. Wankers boozing too much and hurting themselves. Oh wait, no. That was me," he added, throwing Peter a smirk as he took a sip of the coffee. It was like sipping on heaven, almost better than sex. "This is almost better than sex," he decided to verbalise, reassuring Peter he wasn't at all bothered by his visit. In fact, it felt oddly comforting to see the guy again.
Peter had to chuckle as he took a sip of his coffee. It was good coffee, but he wasn't in need of it as much as Chase. "Not sure I'm the one to judge on that comment. It's been... a long time. I can't remember how amazing sex is, let alone if coffee would be better than it, or not." Peter frowned a little in concern, and pointed to his head with his finger. "How's the wound? Sure you're not going to kiss the floor from no breaks?"
Chase's eyebrows shot up at the sex comment and he looked at Peter closely to see if he was joking. "Why? I mean, shit. You don't have to answer that, I don't mean to sound so bloody blunt. But jeez, mate. Seriously? How does someone like you not get a decent and regular lay?" he asked. He couldn't help it, blunt could often be his middle name and now he was just burning with curiosity. Peter far from looked like a gorilla's arse, so it couldn't be that. His hand went up to his head once attention was drawn back to it. "It's healing okay, seem to wake up most days with a bitch of a headache, but I'm better at work right now. Sitting around at home isn't a good idea. I feel okay, just realised how much coffee was needed when you showed up with it, so thanks again. I do appreciate it. But... you can't just tell me you were in the neighbourhood when New York is over two hours drive away."
Peter raised his eyebrows in return, but more because he hadn't quite anticipated Chase's clear shock. Then he just started to look embarrassed, and took another sip of his coffee before rolling his shoulders. "It's fine, I don't really have a problem talking about it. I mean, it's probably something I need to work on. The talking, not the sex," Peter corrected before he frowned, and considered his own words. "Ah, well, sex would be nice to work on, I have to admit. Just... it's been easier to keep to myself. I work a lot." He nodded as he listened to Chase. "Headaches are pretty normal, but then you'd know that. And no, I wasn't in the neighbourhood. You actually inspired me to take a couple of days off. It's been a while, and also, I just wanted to say thanks for the t-shirts. Although, you really didn't have to get me anything. I just wanted to know you were okay."
"Well, I work a lot too, but I always have time for-" Chase stopped abruptly, frowning. He took a sip of the coffee and swallowed it, clearing his throat again. "You know what, that's not a direction this conversation should go at all because it's just bullshit. The last two years mean I have no entitlement to judge on things like casual sex. So just feel free to ignore me on that front. I just... you shouldn't cut yourself off, mate. I can think of a good ten chicks in calling distance right now who would gladly jump into bed with you for a roll." He didn't lead Peter to the busy cafeteria. Knowing his luck, House would follow just for the fuck of it. Instead, he picked one of the ward waiting rooms that only had a handful of people in it. There were some comfortable armchairs by the window, and it was as away from prying eyes as possible. He sunk down into one of them and then pressed his lips together. "I figured you'd probably think something along those lines, but the truth is, there wasn't anything I could have given you that would have been enough to show how grateful I am. The thing is, if you hadn't been there, I probably wouldn't have done much to take care of myself... probably would have ended up just letting fate take it's course. I was in a fucked up head space and the booze was just a bad mix, so I did need to thank you, somehow."
"Are you with someone?" Peter probed gently. He could remember some of the drunken ramblings. Something to do with a woman and sperm, and someone named House. He realised a moment later that it probably wasn't so gentle. For some reason though, Peter just felt the need to clarify Peter's status. "I know I shouldn't cut myself off, but I just... It's hard. I've never been good at casual. I'm kind of all, or nothing, you know? And the last couple times it's been all, and I can't take being close to someone again and watching them get ripped away from me." He let out a sigh, and made a face. "Sorry, man. Shouldn't be dumping this on you. Hey, it's fine, really. Just doing my job. I can't exactly stand around and watch someone get hit by a car." Peter reached out to give Chase's arm a squeeze. "You're welcome, by the way."
Chase was silent as he looked out the window for a few moments. When he turned back to Peter, his posture had slumped just a little and he shook his head, swallowing to wet his throat. "No. Not anymore. I'm, uh... I'm getting a divorce. It lasted six months. It was probably doomed from the start," he had to admit. "There were a lot of external factors at play, including why I shouldn't push you just to go out and have sex for the sake of it. It's how it all started. It was hardly romantic. Before that, it might seem strange, but I understand exactly what you're saying. I was scared of losing people. It was probably why I stupidly pushed too hard to try and make it work with her when we were just too damn different. And please, don't apologise. Feel free to dump anything on me, I might actually understand more than most. But still, being alone can suck way more than the other side of the fence. Don't you get lonely?"
Peter's eyebrows rose slightly, his lips pressed together. "I'm really sorry, I can kind of understand what it's like. My brother... he's divorced, too. Only he had two kids in the bargain, and Heidi had been a part of his life for years. They just grew apart after, he... ah, after he had an accident." Peter being the accident when Nathan flew him high up into the sky to explode safely away from New York. Only Nathan had been badly burned, his face damaged. His life damaged. All because of Peter. It felt like a life time ago given what had passed between now, and then, but Peter would never forget. Not now he had his memories back. He scratched his forehead and brushed his hair out of his face. "I'm kind of sorry you understand. It's not fair when we lose people close to us. And yeah, of course I get lonely. Probably why I work so hard. Figure I'll eventually fill the hole, or just numb it."
"My wife wanted her dead husband's kids. Kind of killed the procreating mood," Chase offered and then scrunched up his nose wryly. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm bitter. The sad part is, the divorce was my fault. I... did something, she didn't approve of it. I didn't cheat or anything like that, she thought I was. That was completely independent to the base issue, though. I'm sorry to hear about your brother. Divorce is... makes you wonder how the relationship even got off the ground in the first place. Then it makes you wonder if you have the energy to try again. The loss thing, yeah. I lost both my parents. My Mum when I was barely seventeen, and the relationship with my Dad was screwed, but his death didn't hurt any less. Maybe made it hurt more, if anything. Long story." He glanced away, watching some nurses pass up the corridor. He cleared his throat again and turned back to Peter, a small frown on his forehead. "A lot of my life is a long story. You don't want to work so hard and wake up one day to realise you're miserable and lonely. I know someone like that. He can be a real arse, in fact, most days, he's a real arse. Some days, I wonder if he's even capable of loving unconditionally. But trust me, you don't want to turn into him."
Peter's eyebrows shot up at the dead husband's kid comment, unable to stop his reaction. He really didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know what to say to any of it, other than this odd sense of relief at finding someone as damaged as he was. Peter had seen some insane things recently. Had dealt with a lot of loss. He understood, just maybe not because of the same circumstances. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he dropped his voice to a low murmur that only Chase could here. "My Dad died. Heart attack. At least that's what we all thought. It was just me, Nathan, and my Mom for a while. It wasn't like we were kids. We were grown up, but it was hard. Dad was very much thePetrelli patriarch, you know? And then there's Mom. She's... well, she's Mom. I'm not actually sure there's a word to adequately describe her. I was never able to live up to her expectations. Nathan was always her favourite. She wanted him to be President. Probably still does. She's very much about status and power. Sometimes, though... Sometimes she's just my Mom. Anyway, my point is that my Dad wasn't dead. He, ah... he came back. Still not sure how it happened. I just know he wasn't who I remembered. Not who we thought he was. Dad's a bastard. And dead. Again." He licked his lips as he looked up at Chase from under his dark hair. "I don't want to be a prick like him. I don't want to be lonely either, but I'm sick of losing people."
Chase was listening and when Peter got to the part about his father dying, he felt dangerously like he was about to choke up and cry. Their experiences with fathers were close, and Chase just knew he was overly fragile in the wake of everything that had happened lately. He pressed his fingers against his lips, not replying straight away and then he cleared his throat. His voice still came out hoarse when he did speak, though and he swallowed to try and dislodge the lump in his throat a little. "Ah," he began and moved his hand to scratch his fingers through the back of his hair. "My Dad had cancer. Lung Cancer, very advanced stages. I didn't know. He came here from Australia to see our Oncologist here, who is one of the best in the country. It looked like he had just come to see me, but I should have known that wasn't the whole story. He was here for days, didn't tell me. When he left, I asked him if he wanted to get a drink, but he turned me down. Pretty much the story of my life, he was never there when I needed him... wanted him. Three months later, got a call he was dead. That's how I found out he had been terminal. He knew when he was here, he only had three months to live. I'm sick of losing people too..." It wasn't an admission he had ever said out loud before and the words felt foreign coming from his lips, but they came with a blunt realisation. This is was why he had tried so hard to make things work with Cameron. He didn't want to lose her, even if they were too different for the relationship to really work. But now that she was gone, in the circumstances it all ended, he couldn't see it as a loss... just a mistake in judgement.
Peter reached out to rest his hand on Chase's shoulder, thumb rubbing against his collarbone. It was a gesture Nathan had always used on Peter, and it was oddly comforting. It was usually when his brother was trying to talk sense into him. Only he knew he didn't have to talk sense to Chase. They were similar in so many ways it was strange, but Peter realised he didn't exactly want the friendship to end here. He liked talking to someone that just got it. He kept some of the finer details out about abilities, and strange powers. He didn't need to freak Chase out. "Makes you wonder what's wrong with you."
Chase gave a slight nod. "Then when you think you get something right, it comes with prices..." he elaborated and shot Peter a faint, grateful smile at the comfort. He didn't know why Peter was so easy to talk to, but he was, and it had been a long time since Chase really had a mate he felt he could just pour his heart out to. Not since he left Australia, and even then, he hadn't ever much been the sort to pour his heart out. He was always the listener when someone else wanted to. "Are you... do you have to be back? To New York? Or can you stick around for a few hours? Maybe we could get a drink after my shift. My shout, even if I'll likely stick to OJ. Still in the 'I'm never drinking ever again' phase. But, you know, Christmas is nearly here, you're really easy to talk to. But if you can't, it's cool. Like I said, Christmas is nearly here. It's busy."
"Christmas..." Peter murmured, looking like he'd only just realise the holiday was coming up. "Shit, I didn't... I mean, I knew. It just wasn't sinking in. Like it was something that happened to other people." Peter dropped his head with a disbelieving laugh. "Wow, I really have become that guy, haven't I? And you know what? I don't need to be back in New York. I think I could use the break for a little while. And I could definitely use the drink. Even if you'll stick to OJ. You're easy to talk to as well, Doctor."
Chase reflexively patted the front of his scrubs, looking for his keys. It was stupid, considering they were in his locker. "I pretty much have nothing to lose, so I'll get my keys for you and you can hang out at my place until I get off at five. The place is in a bit of a state. Newly single again and wallowing in my own self-misery isn't very conducive to housework. But just make yourself at home. It isn't like you didn't open your home up for me when I needed it the most." He paused, both hands wrapping around the half-empty coffee cup, and looked at Peter closely. "Have you got anyone to spend Christmas with?"
Peter watched Chase with a slight look of amazement, before he smiled gratefully. "Thanks for the offer. It would at least keep me free of Christmas crowds if I had to kill time around here, or at some shops. That's one thing I will never miss about Christmas - the crowds." Peter chuckled. "And hey, don't worry about it. I'm definitely not one to judge on the state of your apartment. I'm a single guy, too. Also know what it's like to wallow in self-misery. Um, Christmas? I... I guess it'd be my brother, but he hasn't exactly mentioned any plans and my Mom's too busy looking out for Nathan to remember me. My, ah, my niece would be spending it with her family. She's adopted. My brother is her father. Long story. Again."
"It was hers. I just moved in when... she finally let me move in," Chase said with a wry scrunch of his nose. "Took her two years to give me a draw in her dresser. But old water and all that shit. If you can't get on the same page as any of your family, you're welcome to come here. We can get a pizza or something, watch crappy old action movies, maybe drag the James Bond box set out. I've been in a funk, but it's never fun to spend Christmas alone."
"Or to spend it surrounded by people you don't give a shit about," Peter added. "My family, they're... well, with a politician brother, and the parents I had, there were always 'fundraisers'." Peter couldn't even be bothered to hide the contempt in his voice. "Keeping up appearances, and all that fun stuff. The actual family side of Christmas was minimal. Me and Nathan always made an effort for each other, but it hasn't happened in a while. I'd, um, I'd actually like that. Just relaxing for the holiday. Spending some time with a friend." Peter gave him a crooked smile.
Chase frowned sympathetically and nodded. "I understand. My Dad was a world-renowned rheumatologist. Business dinners, work functions, fundraisers, looking the pristine doctor's son... I really do understand, and I know how much it sucks." He met Peter's smile with one of his own. "Okay, well, we have a date. Plenty of room if you want to stay a couple of days. I've got Christmas off.Cuddy , the boss of the hospital, seems to think I look like I need a break. It'll be good not to have to spend the whole of it picking lint out of my naval."
"Hey, I wouldn't argue with her. My boss seemed to think the same," Peter laughed. "Guess picking our navals really takes a lot of effort." He raised his coffee cup in a toast. "Here's to shit dads, finding people who get it, and Christmas plans we actually want to happen."
Chase had to laugh a little and raised his own cup. "And to paramedics who still work when they're off duty," he added with a smirk. "Cheers, mate."
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