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Dr. Robert Chase ([personal profile] trueaussiedoc) wrote2007-12-08 02:29 am

[livejournal.com profile] fandom_muses: December 2007, Picture Prompt: Shovel & Pail

Chase’s father only ever took him to the beach once in his life. At the time, he’d thought it was because his father wanted to spend time with him, take him to a place he adored… He found out later (upon overhearing an argument between his parents) that it was only because his mother had constantly goaded his father into doing something - anything - with his eight year old son.

He’d always remembered his father in a suit. Even to this day, every memory of his late father saw the man in an immaculate suit and tie, more often than not with a briefcase in hand. This day at the beach, Dr Rowan Chase wore neat dress pants, shirt and tie, but removed his suit jacket and left it slung over the drivers seat in the car. Chase remembered thinking it was going to be a good day when he saw his father remove his jacket.

Armed with a bucket and spade, the excitable blond-haired, blue-eyed eight year old had bounded down into the white sand, ready and bouncing up down with pleas to his father to make a sand castle with him.

It didn’t happen.

His father had gripped him by the shoulder and told him to stop acting like a child. Then he stood at the end of the towel with his arms firmly crossed, alternating between staring at the ocean and looking pointedly at his watch. “We have two hours, Robert,” he’d stated, his voice stoic and professional. Just like he would speak to a patient.

Chase had played in the sand, alone and subdued, for all of fifteen minutes before his father got paged to the hospital. He’d heard the familiar buzz and had shielded his eyes from the hot Australian sun to peer up at his father as he received the page. Then, without a word, he’d been packed back up into the car and they were driving in silence back home.

That was one time Chase didn’t cry when his father dumped him onto his aunt and drove smoothly into the distance in his perfect silver BMW. It was only later the tears came, when he realised that in the rapid departure from the beach, he’d left behind his bucket and spade…

Chase, now thirty years old and standing staring out the window at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital into another rainy New Jersey night, sighed and yet again shoved another stray memory of his pained childhood to the back of his mind and went to scrub up for his next surgery.