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5 Times Chase Accidentally Called House ‘Dad’ and One Time He Did It on Purpose
1. The First Time: A Mistaken Reflex
It was a regular day at Princeton-Plainsboro. The hospital had a bustling energy, but the team was used to it by now. Chase, House, and the rest of the diagnostic team were gathered in the conference room, discussing yet another complex case. House, ever the enigma, was leaning back in his chair, tapping his pen against the edge of the table in his usual rhythm. His gaze was fixed on the patient's chart, his mind working through the diagnostic puzzle, occasionally muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath.
"Chase, did you get the latest lab results?" House asked, his voice distracted as he flipped through the pages of the chart.
Chase, absorbed in his own thoughts, didn’t immediately register the question. His mind was still working through the last test they’d run. His fingers drummed against the table as he tried to recall the exact numbers. When he finally looked up, the words slipped out before he could stop them.
"Yeah, I got them, Dad—"
The moment the word left his mouth, Chase froze. His heart sank as he saw the way House’s head snapped up. The room went silent. Even the rest of the team seemed to pause, holding their breaths. Chase’s face turned crimson as he quickly corrected himself.
“Uh, I mean, House. I—I meant House.” His voice faltered, but he pressed on, attempting to recover. “Sorry. Slip of the tongue.”
House’s gaze lingered on him for a few beats longer than usual, the smirk on his face more pronounced than it had been before. “Did you just call me ‘Dad’?” he asked, his voice dripping with confusion and amusement.
Chase swallowed hard. “No, no, I didn’t. I meant House. That’s all. Sorry about that, really.”
House raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sure. Well, it’s a little late for ‘daddy issues,’ don’t you think?” His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—an odd mix of amusement and curiosity.
Chase felt his stomach twist in discomfort, but he tried to shrug it off. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, his embarrassment making his voice a little too tight.
The moment passed, but Chase couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that settled in his chest. It was just a slip, a mistake. But House’s strange look lingered in his mind as the meeting continued.
2. The Second Time: An Unintentional Comfort
The next few days passed without incident, but Chase was still trying to forget the awkward slip-up. He’d done everything he could to avoid House catching him in another embarrassing moment. But it was proving difficult to avoid House’s sharp eye, especially when they spent hours together in the hospital’s sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways.
It had been a long shift—one of those never-ending stretches where the world outside the hospital felt like a distant memory. By the time the team broke for a late dinner, Chase was barely functioning. His exhaustion had long since passed the point of being tolerable; it was now gnawing at him, draining him in a way he didn’t know how to handle.
After working straight through for nearly twelve hours, the team found themselves seated in the break room. House was picking at his food, not particularly hungry but too stubborn to leave without pretending to eat. Chase was too tired to even form a coherent thought, let alone engage in their usual banter. He was simply trying to hold it together.
“Dad, I think the patient’s case is just too complicated for us to solve tonight,” Chase said, barely glancing up from his meal.
The words left his mouth before he could register them, and this time, the silence that followed felt even heavier than before. House’s fork clattered onto his plate, and Chase looked up, realizing what he’d just done.
“Did you just call me Dad again?” House asked, an incredulous look on his face. His voice was soft, but the confusion was clear.
Chase’s face turned bright red. “Oh my God, I didn’t—”
“You did,” House said, sitting back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. “And here I thought I was done with the father figure role for the day.”
Chase was quick to apologize. “I didn’t mean to! I swear, it’s just a—uh, force of habit. I guess I’m just so used to—well, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.
House seemed to consider him for a moment, his usual teasing tone softening. “Well, it’s not the first time I’ve heard worse.” He paused, giving Chase a small, almost imperceptible nod. “But don’t call me ‘Dad’ again. You’re not getting that out of me.”
Chase managed a weak smile. “Right. Got it. Thanks.”
Despite the awkwardness, there was something oddly comforting in the way House didn’t press further. It was as though House understood the weight of the moment, or at least, was willing to let it slide for once. Chase allowed himself to relax just a little, though the embarrassment still lingered.
3. The Third Time: A Moment of Weakness
Days turned into weeks, and the tension between House and Chase seemed to dissipate, though it remained a low hum in the background of their interactions. There was something undeniably familiar about the way they now slipped into old routines—House’s sharp sarcasm, Chase’s occasional missteps, and the easy, almost familial banter that seemed to flow despite themselves.
The week had been particularly brutal. Cases piled up, and the team’s patience was wearing thin. Chase had been running on little sleep, scrambling from one emergency to the next, trying to stay focused but ultimately struggling to keep up.
That night, they were gathered in the break room again. House was leaning against the counter, taking his usual spot as the self-appointed supervisor of everyone’s misery. Chase, meanwhile, sat at the table, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His eyelids were heavy, and his stomach twisted with fatigue. He barely registered the conversation around him, the words slipping in and out of his awareness like a distant echo.
“I can’t do it anymore, Dad,” Chase mumbled, rubbing his temples. “I’m just so tired. This is too much.”
The second the words left his lips, he froze. It was a strange, involuntary slip, but this time, it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt like the truth. A deep, raw moment of vulnerability that he hadn’t meant to let slip.
House, who had been arguing with Foreman about some inconsequential detail of the case, stopped mid-sentence. “Wait. Did you just call me Dad?”
Chase’s heart pounded, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the intense wave of embarrassment that usually followed. Instead, he shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and honest. “I did. I guess it’s just... easier than saying House all the time.”
House’s eyebrow twitched, his usual sarcasm replaced with something softer. He took a step toward Chase, studying him with an odd expression on his face. “You’re really running yourself into the ground, you know that?”
Chase nodded slowly. “I know. But I don’t know what else to do.”
Without warning, House placed a hand on his shoulder. The gesture wasn’t something Chase had expected, but it was gentle, almost fatherly in its own way. “Get some rest, Chase. I’m not your dad, but I’m not going to let you burn out like this.”
For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and Chase could see something there—a quiet understanding that spoke volumes. He smiled faintly. “Thanks, House.”
House gave him a small, nonchalant nod, though there was a warmth to it that hadn’t been there before. “Go home. I’ll cover for you.”
4. The Fourth Time: The Wetting Incident
A few days later, the exhaustion reached a breaking point. It was one of those days where the hospital seemed to swallow everything whole. Cases piled up, stress levels were off the charts, and there wasn’t a single minute to spare. Chase had barely had time to breathe, let alone grab a meal or take a proper bathroom break.
It was during one of their many back-and-forths in front of House’s office that disaster struck. Chase, already feeling the pressure of too many things happening at once, suddenly realized he was in trouble. His bladder, already stretched to its limits, gave way without warning. He felt a wave of horror as warmth spread across his pants, a completely embarrassing accident.
The team had been discussing the details of a new patient, but now all Chase could focus on was the burning humiliation in his chest.
“Dad—!” he blurted out in desperation, his words escaping in the midst of the crisis. He didn’t even realize he’d said it, but the slip-up couldn’t have come at a worse time. His face turned beet red as he looked around, hoping no one had noticed, but House’s sharp eyes had already caught it.
He was already mortified, but House didn’t make it worse. Instead, he let out a sigh and gave Chase a once-over. “Well, you’ve been running around all day. You’re probably overdue for a break. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Chase couldn’t even speak as House’s unusual kindness caught him off guard. Instead of berating him, House was offering him a solution. "Go ahead and take a break. I’ll handle things for now."
“Thanks, House,” Chase mumbled, too embarrassed to even look at him. The weight of the moment lingered, but somehow, Chase felt an odd sense of gratitude.
5. The Fifth Time: Less Embarrassing, More Familiar
After the wetting incident, things seemed to settle into an easier rhythm between Chase and House. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but it was starting to feel like a distant memory. Chase was more comfortable around House than he had been in the past, and House, for his part, didn’t seem to mind the occasional slip of the tongue.
One evening, after yet another exhausting round of tests, the team gathered in the break room. As usual, House was sitting with his usual smirk, watching everyone like a hawk, but this time, Chase found himself feeling more relaxed. He was no longer worried about saying the wrong thing.
“Dad, I think you’re missing the point,” Chase said casually, rolling his eyes at House’s ridiculous analysis of the case.
House paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Seriously?”
Chase felt a rush of warmth flood his face but didn’t backtrack. He’d said it on purpose this time. “Yeah. Seriously. It just feels easier to say.”
House stared at him, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, he just shook his head and muttered, “You’re an idiot, but fine. Whatever.”
It wasn’t harsh. In fact, for House, it was a surprisingly soft response.
For once, Chase didn’t feel the sting of embarrassment. Instead, he grinned, a real smile this time. "Thanks, Dad."
House raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. There was no sarcasm in his voice as he replied, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” It was a small moment, but it felt like something more. It was acceptance, a quiet understanding between them.
1. The One Time Chase Did It on Purpose
Weeks later, after all the awkwardness had faded into a comfortable routine, Chase finally decided to lean into it. He was no longer embarrassed, not like before. In fact, he’d come to appreciate House’s unintentional fatherly role, even if House would never admit it.
As the team wrapped up a long shift, Chase looked at House, who was deep in thought about their latest diagnosis. Without thinking twice, he said it—this time on purpose.
“Thanks for everything, Dad,” he said, his voice steady.
House froze, his head snapping up in surprise. He blinked at Chase, confusion evident in his eyes. "You’re really doing this now, huh?"
Chase nodded, his smile playful. "Yeah. I think it’s fitting."
House stared at him for a long moment before finally breaking into a small grin. “You’re still an idiot.”
Chase didn’t flinch. Instead, he met House’s gaze. “Maybe. But you’re my idiot, Dad.”
House’s grin faltered just a fraction, and for a second, Chase thought he might actually acknowledge it. But then, as always, House covered it with his usual sarcasm.
“Just don’t start calling me ‘Papa,’ alright?”
Chase laughed, knowing that, in his own way, House had just acknowledged it—just enough to make it real.