poly_chromatic | 021: VIDEO

[The room is dim, but there's enough light for the camera to make out that there's only one person in it, sitting stiffly at the table like an interrogation subject.]

So thanks for the talk, but I reckon cutting me out of your will sent the message clear enough. Couldn't find any 'you're a disappointment' cards?

[Silence replies, but Chase continues the conversation, bitterly.]

I didn't want your money. I never wanted your money. [And he pauses, and something makes him huff a laugh.]

Figured out it was all I was going to get. You don't think I might have wanted to say goodbye?

[Why would he, since-]

I hated you. Didn't mean I didn't still-

Doesn't matter, now. Look, why don't you take this down to the hospital. Probably find someone more interested in listening to your lectures, there. Sign a few copies of your books.

[Another wait for a response that doesn't come, and Chase's tone slips from sarcastic to something dull and flat.]

You don't have a shadow, here.

[A beat. An interruption.]

Sooner be in his than yours.

[And now the silence stretches long. Chase pushes his chair back from the table and stands, but neither party are done talking.]

Allison was wrong about that.

[Barely enough time for the invisible speaker to draw breath.]

Don't want to talk about it. We're not going to talk about it. [But someone doesn't agree and, jaw clenched, despite himself, Chase listens.] Right, and you walked out on two kids and your sick wife. Careful, dad, high ground's looking a little shaky.

[He turns, walking to a counter in the back of the room. The motions, a familiar glug and clink denote drink being poured. He speaks without turning.]

It's under control. Think I'd still have a job right now if I showed up for surgery with shaky hands?

[Pause.]

It's under control.

[Silence.

Silence.

Silence, but for the hard slam of the glass against the back wall. Liquid spilling.]

And maybe I'd prefer to be just like her.

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I probably wasn't, considering the circumstances.

[Not that he didn't have an advantage; but at the time they'd all been worried about the investigation, and Chase had been sucking up to House.

She's noticed he doesn't suck up anymore.]

What was it, then?

[And House hesitates before rifling through his inner workings, and sometimes Chase wishes he still would. And Cameron asks things he can't possibly tell her, and sometimes that rips him apart.]

You want me to warn you what you'll be wrong about? I thought you hated cheating on tests?

In the long run I doubt it'd make a difference.

[Since, as much as she hates the idea of fate things seem to be set, it seems certain they'll forget their time when it ends.]

But you're right, I don't want to know.

I-

[He wants to say he doesn't hold it against her, but it's not true, he does. It's a resentment he still holds bitterly, blaming her, blaming House, and his own naivety for telling her and thinking it might be okay.

She was wrong to lay responsibility for his actions at House's door.

She was wrong about loving him no matter what.

Yes, he holds it against her. Just not as bitterly as he puzzles over what more he could have done to make things right.]

I'd tell you, if I thought there was anything it might change.

[Cold comfort knowing she has a few months of things working, maybe a little more, to look forward to. But she's not particularly willing to give that up. Selfish.]

We've strayed from my point.

[He loves her too, of course. Or there would be no resentment to hold.]

You wanted to distract me.

[It's hard when the wreck of his marriage is a stick his father's never had to beat him with before.

(Never viciously. He's not that kind of man. Just relentlessly. And the worst is, Chase knows he wouldn't really care.)]

It seemed like the best option.

Did you have a plan for that? Beyond telling me what you assume someone will already have told me?

I might suggest you not spend the day on your own.

[Drinking. Does it even need to be said/]

Being on my own isn't exactly the problem.

...I appreciate the thought. But I'd be bad company today and you've had to put up with too much bad company from me already.

Isn't that a matter of perspective?

I'd have led with that if I thought you'd answer any other way.

If you're trying to tell me you prefer me drunk, or sick, it's going to give House a lot of fresh ammo.

I prefer you not getting drunk. If you're going to, I feel a little better knowing someone's around to keep an eye on you.

[Preferably someone who'll make him feel bad enough to go a bit lighter on it.]

[Thanks, dad. Just what he needs.]

I'm drinking, I'm not getting drunk. And I don't need a babysitter, thanks.

Right. No shaking hands.

[Or showing up three hours late for dinner, or waking the neighbors because he can't remember the right apartment number. All under control.]

That's right.

[It's only occasionally that bad, now. For the most part he drinks for the slight numbness, not hunting oblivion. So he can tell himself that.]