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niq...you may all die of shock now. I have not only produced a fic of some length in the last week, I just wrote something else. It's not much of a fic--a character piece, no plot. But, you know, it's still massively more than I usually produce.
The Pathology of Least Resistance
House, MD. PG.
"Most days, Chase likes everybody."
Most days, Chase likes everybody. Likes House for his acerbic wit and ability to just say whatever he's thinking. Likes Cameron for her utterly amusing still-extant crush on House and her attempts to repress and deny the disaster that it has turned out to be. Likes Foreman for his quiet stoicism and backbone. Likes Wilson for his ability to ameliorate House on tear and his easy companionability.
Most days, people like Chase back. He's easy-going, laid-back. Doesn't care too much about anything, doesn't get too worked up. He's not complicated.
He learned that lesson a long time ago. Learned that if you don't care too much, you don't show too much, you don't get hurt. People don't go away. Nothing to see then there's no reason to leave.
But that's most days.
He's heard what Foreman said back when everything with Vogler was going down. That Chase wanted the job, but didn't appreciate it. Heard the subtext there--the rich boy doesn't know what he's got, doesn't know what it's like to work hard to get somewhere in life..
At one point, that might've bothered Chase. But it's just water off his back, it's nothing. It's easier to smile wide, easier to shrug it off. Play the part, the careless rich boy who doesn't know what he has. It's easier not to care. Rowan Chase taught him that lesson.
It'd be even easier to swig back his tequila and let it burn away all the feelings that make him want to care. But he learned all about that from Anna Chase, so instead he just tucks them away in a box that no else can see.
House, he thinks, knows about the box, though. House sees what everyone else misses, the tiny details, and he stitches them all together. But even House hasn't seen it, just deducted its existence.
And that was where he'd gone wrong. He'd started caring about it, when House had been poking around at his raw edges, the places that box wore at.
And then there was the angio he'd screwed up and what burned most wasn't House's disgust, but his own bile. His own defenses, his complacency, had bit him in the ass as a doctor. Ironic--it was practically autoimmune.
He'd wanted to protect his fellowship and risked it in the process.
You forget a lesson that Daddy taught you, life'll beat it back into you. He's remembered it: always take the path of least resistance. Fighting never gets you what you want. Not in life, anyhow. And neither will anything else.
And if you can't win, why bother tiring yourself out?
The Pathology of Least Resistance
House, MD. PG.
"Most days, Chase likes everybody."
Most days, Chase likes everybody. Likes House for his acerbic wit and ability to just say whatever he's thinking. Likes Cameron for her utterly amusing still-extant crush on House and her attempts to repress and deny the disaster that it has turned out to be. Likes Foreman for his quiet stoicism and backbone. Likes Wilson for his ability to ameliorate House on tear and his easy companionability.
Most days, people like Chase back. He's easy-going, laid-back. Doesn't care too much about anything, doesn't get too worked up. He's not complicated.
He learned that lesson a long time ago. Learned that if you don't care too much, you don't show too much, you don't get hurt. People don't go away. Nothing to see then there's no reason to leave.
But that's most days.
He's heard what Foreman said back when everything with Vogler was going down. That Chase wanted the job, but didn't appreciate it. Heard the subtext there--the rich boy doesn't know what he's got, doesn't know what it's like to work hard to get somewhere in life..
At one point, that might've bothered Chase. But it's just water off his back, it's nothing. It's easier to smile wide, easier to shrug it off. Play the part, the careless rich boy who doesn't know what he has. It's easier not to care. Rowan Chase taught him that lesson.
It'd be even easier to swig back his tequila and let it burn away all the feelings that make him want to care. But he learned all about that from Anna Chase, so instead he just tucks them away in a box that no else can see.
House, he thinks, knows about the box, though. House sees what everyone else misses, the tiny details, and he stitches them all together. But even House hasn't seen it, just deducted its existence.
And that was where he'd gone wrong. He'd started caring about it, when House had been poking around at his raw edges, the places that box wore at.
And then there was the angio he'd screwed up and what burned most wasn't House's disgust, but his own bile. His own defenses, his complacency, had bit him in the ass as a doctor. Ironic--it was practically autoimmune.
He'd wanted to protect his fellowship and risked it in the process.
You forget a lesson that Daddy taught you, life'll beat it back into you. He's remembered it: always take the path of least resistance. Fighting never gets you what you want. Not in life, anyhow. And neither will anything else.
And if you can't win, why bother tiring yourself out?