dr_robchase | [Fearplot]

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[Fearplot]

Something was not right when Wednesday came around.

It wasn't costumes. It wasn't anything strange. It was just a sound, one single sound in the distance that should have warned him about everything. There was a scream, somewhere in the distance. And then came Klaus' voice over the radio. Chase hated keeping a radio, but it was a compromise that the Doctor had insisted upon. On days like this, Chase was glad he'd listened.

He didn't even hesitate as he rolled out of bed, yanking a pair of scrubs on as fast as he could and grabbing all his supplies as he tugged the Doctor's coat on, just needing something for the trip in the morning air.

"Doctor, wake up," he mumbled, just in case he hadn't been startled awake yet.

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The Doctor didn't often wake up to yelling anymore. Or panic. It was the sound of Klaus panicked that threw him, into that area between sleep and wakefulness that happened when one heard something one'd never heard before. He slowly sat up. "Whasgoinon."

There was another scream, and he startled entirely awake, because this wasn't a nightmare. "Rob?"

He was ready to sprint out the door, but he angled the radio towards the bed and turned the volume up as he just stood there, eyes fraught with concern, fear, and determination. His jaw was set in stubbornness as he shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, genuinely. "I don't know what's going on."

"Well," the Doctor said, and was about to say something else when Atalanta went into a fit of barking for a good solid minute, out on the porch, and he yanked a dressing gown to go and shush her, and that was when he saw SOMETHING, and it was pretty damned bad.

He came back in, looking faintly ill. "What day is it?" he asked. "And...why do you have my coat on?"

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes and glared for a moment at Atalanta, hitching his bag higher. "It's Wednesday. And I'm going to the Clinic," he said, sounding fearful, but stubborn.

"Did you see," the Doctor said, "what is bloody out there? Did you SEE any of it?" He gave Chase the 'you must be completely and utterly batshit' look. "You'd be lucky to make it halfway the hell to the Compound. Things...There are THINGS out there, you're not going bloody anywhere!"

Chase set his bag down with a 'thump' as he crossed his arms, eyes going wide with disbelief. "No." It was the first thing that came out of his mouth. "...No! I'm an intensivist. Of all the people on this Island, I'm best equipped in emergencies to help and you wanna lock me up?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "It's my day in the Clinic and I can do real help there! Danger or no!"

"There was a bloke," the Doctor said, "wearing someone's bloody HAND as a bloody accessory! And he had dreadlocks like mad, and looked pretty damned mad, and I'm sure, from the screaming, that there's more of them, or worse, and I don't care if you're," he drawled in a scathing Aussie accent, "best equipped, you won't do anyone any good if you become someone's latest fashion, much less..."

There couldn't be Daleks. Of course not. This was just...mad shite.

"I am not just sitting here!" Chase shouted, actually shouted, his voice rising to a level he hadn't heard it go in a long time. "I'm a medical doctor, I spent years training for emergencies like this, broken limbs and wounds and saving people!" he continued, voice getting louder and louder. "And if I have to sprint to the Clinic to get there, I will!"

"And how is here ANY safer!" he kept shouting.

"It's a point of goddamned defense," the Doctor said, shouting right back "instead of skipping out with the basket to grandmother's house! Yeah, you're trained for emergencies, in places where emergencies make sense. Where it's either someone shooting someone, or a natural disaster or a fire, or damned terrorists. NOT the worst parts of every horror film anyone could ever think of, actually real and come to life."

He had his hands on his hips and he was putting pants on and trousers, just because it was something productive to do. "You don't know SHIT about this kind of emergency, because in the grand scheme of the universe you've been stuck in the role of little human boy with his black bag and stethoscope that really works and the syringe that doesn't actually dispense anything." He was physically keeping himself from getting in Chase's face. "This ain't like DUSTIN' CROPS, or being in the scrum, and the first law is that you never ever put yourself on the offensive!"

His eyes were wide and he was absolutely furious now, an emotion that didn't often come by Chase because he was so good, so good at pushing it all down and away and ignoring it, but not today. Not when his fucking husband of all people was giving him that. He wandered closer, because he didn't want to yell anymore, wanted to be quiet and serious. "I'm not stupid," he spat each word out slowly, breathing heavily. "I am sorry I don't have your twenty-seven senses or your brain or your experience, but I am not about to sit here while people are out there and I can do something about it."

His eyes were cold now, but god, he was still angry. "And you? Huh? While I sit here, were you going to do the same or are you still THAT MUCH of a hypocrite!"

"I was going," the Doctor said, one big ball of barely contained rage, "to check on Jane and Stu and Lydia, thank you. Then see what was going on, fall back, plan, and regroup. Like sensible fucking people do when bad shite is happening!"

To be honest, he hadn't really formed a plan before they started yelling. That one seemed pretty good.

"I'm going to the Clinic!" he challenged. "And you can't stop me!" It was loud, blunt, and honest. "You can't. So I am taking my things, I am going to the Clinic, and I am going to do something I am actually good at! And if you don't believe me, then when you leave to check on them, I'm just gonna sneak out then or when you turn your back!"

The Doctor was breathing hard, and he knew deep down that this was the bit that he always was rubbish at, the bit when the humans skived off and did something idiotic, and he was going to yell and he was going to cuss a blue streak and...

"I'll meet you there," he said, nearly growling. "After I look in on them and Gwen and Will. Because I am not letting you just sit about there alone for hours undefended."

Chase just shook his head, calming just slightly with an exhalation, wondering just how the Doctor was supposed to protect him. "Okay," he agreed and without a word of warning, surged forward to kiss the Doctor fiercely.

It was a just in case kiss.

He eased back, the fear still in his eyes and he was a little human boy. "I'll run," he promised. "Straight and fast as I can and I won't do anything stupid."

The Doctor kissed back because it was that kind of kiss, but he was still furious that Chase would be such a bloody idiot. "Watch your back," he said simply, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Chase yanked the Doctor's hands out of his pockets and just stood there for a long moment. "I love you," he got out quietly. "And I know you'll come protect me." He slid his hand into the Doctor's, until their rings touched. And he hoped that would be enough for the moment.

The Doctor looked at Chase for a long moment, eyes levelled, before he pulled away and went to go get a shirt.

"Just go," he said. "Before I really do stop you."

"Fine," was his quiet response as he got his things and kept the Doctor's coat on, not daring to remove it, not now. He exchanged a long look with the Doctor's back before he slipped down the stairs and out the front door and true to his word, he ran. He'd taken Sirius' knife with him just in case he needed protection, but the sound of gunshots raining down around him freaked him out more than the monsters he was outrunning.

And god, crucifixes as he approached the Compound. They almost took him aback in slack-jawed fear, but he knew that he had a purpose. He was going to the Clinic, he was going to help and just because he had to lead knife-forward, it happened.

He approached the Clinic with ease, sighing when he got there and walked right into the room.

He walked right into it.

He walked right into it and only when he heard the voices did his blood freeze and he knew the Doctor had been right the whole time. He should have stayed a coward, should have bunkered under the bed instead of being there, listening to robotic, inhuman voices, talking about seizing him.

Chase only had time to do one thing before everything went black. He made a rush for the door, screaming just one thing at the top of his lungs, loud as he could and fraught with panic, fear, and terrified desperation:

"DOCTOR!"

And then it all went black.

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