I’ve Been Reading Some Of These And Just. ARGH.

I’ve been reading some of these and just. ARGH.

The idea of chase and foreman sitting in House’s office, because it’ll never quite be chase’s, and just looking around at the room the first time back after his death. Both of them are so lost in their memories they basically forget the others there, and then their attentions cross paths again. For a split second they see the other all those years ago, foreman newly hired and Chase baby faced. They notice the stress lines and the fatigue that’s deep into each of their bones now that they carry like an old friend, and they don’t want to break the silence, because then it’ll be real.

It’s foreman who eventually does it, seeing the shine of nearly shed tears in Chase’s eyes. “Hey, what’s the betting that they’ve actually ran off together to watch monster trucks and trashy soaps in peace?” And it’s said with a small smile, a hopeful attempt to make chase laugh. Chase blows out a shaky but amused huff, “you think Wilson’ll allow that? He probably has house drinking a carrot and kale smoothie as we speak.” the reply is quiet and thick but it’s there, both finding relief in the fantasy of what should be and isn’t. Chase will tell himself it is, foreman won’t correct him.

With a final look in the office for the day, the air becoming too stifled with the clutter of old memories and not enough room to make new ones. They’ll face that tomorrow, so they head to foreman’s office, not quite ready to go home to face their separate apartments alone just yet.

“Hey, if you’re dean of medicine, does that make you Cuddy and me House?” Chase asks, and it’s the first time Foreman has heard him sound like himself since the news. Not wanting to break the delicate atmosphere, he replies,

“House doesn’t cry at Christmas movies”

“And you don’t have Cuddy’s ass.”

“6 hours of clinic duty.”

“..foreman?” Chase hesitated

“Yeah?”

“We’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be okay.”