Chapter Text
Sorry for the delay.
Enjoy.
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"Leprosy, really?" incredulous but not immediately dismissing my diagnosis, Dr. Foreman asked.
"I'm pretty sure," I responded, nodding slowly. "We can run a Fite stain, it should be positive," I added once we arrived at the diagnostic lounge.
"Oh, it'll be. Daddy hung out at the wrong kind of Indian ashram," House declared sarcastically.
"But it's obviously dormant in the dad," Foreman, still incredulous, stated. "How could the kid catch it?"
"It's not dormant in the dad," House immediately said. "It's just slow. Like the kid, the dad was misdiagnosed with carpal tunnel, but what was really happening is that his ulnar nerves are damaged," House explained to Foreman, diagnosing what I had discovered. "Run a Fite stain," he ordered the other doctor, leaning slightly toward him.
"No wonder he got anthrax," Dr. Rowan scoffed as Dr. Foreman left the room. "The leprosy weakened his immune system."
"Vicious circle. The leprosy made him vulnerable to the anthrax, and the anthrax treatment put the leprosy in overdrive," House stated calmly as he walked to his chair.
"But the antibiotics we gave him, they cure leprosy," Chase said, frowning.
In theory, that was true, but there were things to consider.
"Yeah, explain that, kid," House said, pointing at me as he took a seat. "I'm pretty tired of talking."
"Tired of talking? You?" I asked ironically. Everyone in the room, except for one person, knew how much House enjoyed giving his speeches. "The antibiotics hit the nerve strands," I began to explain, ignoring House's falsely offended expression. "They kill the leprosy bacteria, and the corpses get tossed into the system."
"And our bodies are so stupid that—" House said with an odd smile, stopping and pointing at me.
"They produce antibodies to fight dead bacteria," I said, shaking my head in amusement at House's intervention. "The antibodies attack the neural and fat cells, causing inflammation and all the rest of the symptoms."
"So the cure's killing him," Dr. Rowan said, nodding in understanding and shaking his head in disbelief.
"Basically," I replied, nodding.
"I want you to call down to Carville, Louisiana," House ordered Cameron. "They had the last leper colony in the Lower 48. Get 'em to send up some thalidomide."
"Thalidomide?" Cameron asked, surprised.
"Twelve-year-olds don't have sex, right?" House asked sarcastically. "So he can't be pregnant," he added with a careless shrug. "Make the call," he said seriously, prompting Cameron to nod and leave the office shortly after.
Behind Cameron, Chase was also ready to leave the office.
"I need to speak to your boy," House called out, stopping Chase and speaking to Dr. Rowan, though it was clear he was ordering Chase not to leave.
Dr. Rowan looked at House for a second before nodding slightly and standing up, with an oddly poorly hidden effort.
Glancing at House, I found him looking at me with silent understanding in his eyes.
"Good luck," I mouthed to Chase as I followed Dr. Rowan out of the room, tilting my head slightly to avoid smiling.
"What you do is really impressive, son," Dr. Rowan said kindly as we walked down the hospital hallway.
"Thank you, sir," I replied, nodding. "I've been learning from Dr. House for months now. He's a good teacher," I added.
"No matter how good a teacher someone is, if the student has no talent, it's useless. And you, son, you have talent for diagnosing, and at your age..." he said, stopping and exhaling in an oddly proud manner while shaking his head in amusement.
It was strange to receive so much encouragement from the man, especially given how painfully obvious his poor relationship with his son was.
"Thanks," I repeated, smiling slightly. Taking advantage of the fact that the man was now facing me, I did a quick physical examination—at least what I could see.
And it was bad. I hadn't noticed before because I wasn't really looking, but the man showed clear signs of illness in his body and face—fatigue, sweat, bags under his eyes, his slightly hunched posture, and he even seemed short of breath despite us having walked only a short distance.
"I'm sorry, I hope I'm not being intrusive, but why did you come to Texas?" I asked, hiding my true intentions by tilting my head slightly. "It doesn't seem like an attempt to reconcile with Chase."
"Doesn't seem like it, right?" the man asked with a sad smile, lowering his head slightly. "Robert and I certainly haven't had the best relationship since his mother and I separated," he explained calmly. "But you're right. The reason I'm here isn't entirely to mend things with Robert. I'm here to attend some conference in Houston, so I thought I'd pay a small visit," he added, returning to the subject, surely realizing he was talking to me.
He was definitely lying. I didn't understand why.
"I see," I murmured, nodding slowly.
"You must think I'm a bad father," the man said with a slight smile.
Yeah, I mean, from what little I know, yeah.
"No, of course not," I quickly lied, smiling at the man. "I don't have a great relationship with my father myself. There's a small barrier that doesn't exist with my mother, you know?" I quickly added, continuing with my lie.
"Well, this may be ironic coming from me," Dr. Rowan scoffed, "but I strongly recommend trying to work things out with your father. You never know how much time you have," he said with a sad smile, looking toward the end of the hallway where the diagnostic lounge was.
Wait.
While Dr. Rowan had his face turned, I caught a glimpse of his neck for a few seconds.
"You have cancer," I stated, immediately recognizing the little blue dot under his collar.
"I'm sorry?" the man asked, widening his eyes and immediately turning his attention back to me, incredulous.
"You're definitely lying about the conference. And even though you're trying to hide it, I can see signs of weakness in how you move. You're sick," I stated seriously. "Dr. Wilson is a great oncologist but a terrible liar. If I ask him, I bet I'll find out the truth right away," I added before the man could even think of denying it.
Staring at me, the man remained completely silent for a while.
"Really impressive," he finally said, exhaling.
"How long?" I asked. It was quite easy to deduce it was terminal just from his words.
If I had to guess based on visible symptoms alone—lung cancer.
"Lungs. Stage four," the man responded after another couple of seconds of silence, confirming my theory. "Three months."
I feel really bad about this diagnosis.
"I'm sorry," I said, both for my 'imprudence' in questioning him that way and for the weight of the prognosis.
"Don't be," Dr. Rowan immediately told me. "You're a prodigy. If you see something wrong, you can't help but feel curious," the man said, oddly amused.
"Even though it wasn't my place to instigate," I quickly said, raising my hands slightly.
"Like I said, son, don't worry," the man said with a kind smile. "Now, I expect you not to tell anyone about this," he added, tilting his head.
"Of course," I responded immediately.
It would be quite difficult to hide it from House, but it was plausible.
"Not even Chase," the man said. "I'd prefer not to tell him."
I'd just have to make up some nonsense about the man—maybe some embarrassing secret or something similar... wait.
"What?" I asked, incredulous.
"I don't want him to know," the man said seriously, lowering his face slightly and looking at me.
I was pretty fine with not telling anyone about this, but this was definitely different.
"Why?" I asked, incredulous. The man had only a few months left to live, and he didn't plan on telling his son.
"I'm sorry, son, but here's where your curiosity must end," the man said with an apologetic smile. "It's not your business," he added.
"I can't do that," I declared, frowning.
"Do what?" the man asked, confused.
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don't tell Chase, then I will," I declared, narrowing my eyes and looking directly at him.
"You can't do this," the man murmured, shaking his head, eyes wide.
"That's the thing about not being a doctor yet, Dr. Rowan," I declared as I slowly walked back to the lounge. "I haven't had a single ethics class. I still don't know what I can and can't do," I added, spinning on my heels and walking away on my own.
Without looking back for a second—since I knew the man wasn't following me—I reached the lounge, where, without saying goodbye or answering House's obviously interested questions, I left with my things.
As I drove away from the hospital, remembering the expression on the older man's face, I felt pretty bad about having to threaten him to get him to talk to Chase about it. I would definitely do it again if necessary, but that didn't take away the discomfort in my stomach.
Fortunately, training with Case helped me center my mind, and hitting a punching bag certainly helped.
The next day, much more determined about what I had said the day before, I was at school during lunch, listening amusedly to Georgie's narration of some strange dream he had, when Kat and Mandela approached the table.
"Did you hear about Jake Thompson's party?" Kat asked as she sat down at the table.
"No," I immediately replied, but my voice was drowned out by the voices of everyone else at the table.
"Yes."
"What?" I asked, confused. "How come I didn't know about it?" I added.
I actually partially knew the answer, it was just—
"If someone had told you, would you have gone?" Mandela asked, frowning, obviously knowing the answer.
Yeah, that.
"Probably not," I immediately replied, shaking my head. "But I'd like to be involved in things," I added, shrugging.
"Oh, PJ," Kat said softly, smiling with exaggerated condescension as she placed her hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah," I murmured dismissively, pushing her hand away while eating my lunch.
"What about the party?" Georgie asked, snorting in amusement. "You're not going?" he added, surprised.
"We are," Kat quickly nodded, pointing at herself and Mandela. "I was just asking about this guy," she added, pointing at me without looking.
"What?" I asked, slightly choking on my food. "Why?" I added, squinting.
"Oh, I thought you might want to go with Diane. She is your girlfriend, after all," Kat replied sarcastically, looking at me strangely.
Choking again, this time on my own saliva, I asked, "What?"
"She's a teenager, and as a teenager myself, I'm taking her to a party," Kat declared arrogantly, silently supported by Mandela's enthusiastic nodding.
I really couldn't refute anything Kat had said. She was definitely right—Diane should have more fun than just being with 'the mothers,' Kat and Mandela, and, as much as it pained me to say it, with me.
"Yeah, you're right," I said, nodding.
"And even if you don't go, you can't stop Diane from going," Kat quickly said, apparently not hearing my response. "But I think you, being her boyfriend, should accompany her to her first party so she can be safer."
"I said yes," I said, amused.
"What?" Kat asked incredulously.
"I said yes," I repeated slowly. "You're right. Diane has the right to have fun at a party, or at least experience it once. I won't stop her if she wants to go, and I'll definitely go with her," I added.
If for some reason Diane actually enjoyed being in a place with dozens of drunk teenagers dancing to loud music, it would certainly be a sight to see.
"Ah, okay," Kat murmured, nodding, apparently not expecting that response from me.
"And still, I'm not Georgie's mom," I said, confused. "No offense," I added, looking at my friend, who was, at that moment, eating a sandwich in a rather unappealing manner.
"Don't worry," Georgie said casually, his mouth full of sandwich.
"I'm not against going to parties," I said, trying to ignore the small bits of food that flew out of Georgie's mouth onto the table we shared, slowly moving my food farther away.
"No, no," Kat denied, responding with evident skepticism.
"What? I'm not," I immediately declared, offended. "I just don't enjoy the atmosphere, right?" I added, trying to seek support from my 'friends.'
Georgie and David, who were on the other side of the table, quickly avoided all eye contact with me.
"If you say so. Clearly, it has nothing to do with the fact that you don't know how to have fun," Kat murmured, focusing her attention back on her lunch.
"I know how to have fun," I quickly declared, strangely feeling offended. "I'm a fun guy," I added, slightly expanding my shoulders. "You," I said, pointing at another student who was walking by with a clean tray, presumably to return it. I made him stop. "I'm fun, right?" I asked, smiling.
"Yes, sir," the other student, who was probably in our year and, to be honest, not very tall, immediately replied.
"See?" I declared, pointing at the guy, who quickly walked away from the table.
"That doesn't count," Kat said seriously, shaking her head. "You basically forced him to say what you wanted."
"I did not," I retorted, offended.
"Yeah, you did," Georgie and David said at the same time, apparently deciding to stop avoiding my gaze.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm a fun guy," I declared. "I just don't like parties that much, that's it," I added, making it clear I wouldn't continue the topic.
"Whatever you say, smart pants," Kat said, smirking arrogantly.
I'm fun.
Later that day, when I arrived at the hospital, I found Cameron and Chase working on some documents in the diagnostics lounge.
"Hey," Chase greeted me with a carefree smile before I could even try to figure out if he had talked to his father yet.
I guess they haven't talked yet.
"Hey, PJ," Cameron greeted me kindly, lifting her face from the documents she was working on.
"Hey, how's everything?" I asked as I hung my things on the hooks in the lounge.
"Fine. The thalidomide arrived last night, and Gabe is improving quickly," Cameron immediately responded.
"That's great," I said, nodding in relief.
"Kid!" House shouted from his office.
Lowering my head slightly, I sighed, ignoring Chase, who was grinning vindictively. A moment later, I walked straight to House's office.
I knew this was going to happen. It was obvious House would be interested in Dr. Rowan and whatever he was hiding.
"Yeah?" I asked, smiling awkwardly at House as I entered.
"Close the door," he ordered, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"What do you need?" I asked after closing the door to his private office, walking to one of the empty chairs by his desk.
"What? I can't just say hi to my protégé?" he asked, dramatically pressing his hand to his heart.
"I didn't find anything interesting," knowing where the conversation was going I told House, keeping my expression as serious as possible. "Maybe he's cheating on his wife, but I couldn't get a direct answer," I added, shrugging.
"Mmh," House hummed, nodding slowly with his eyes still narrowed in suspicion.
"Do you know what a macrobiotic diet is?" House asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Yeah," I replied, lowering my head in defeat.
There was no point in trying to hide what I had found—House had figured it out on his own.
"So you found out," House said, slightly impressed. "You're getting good at lying. Good," he added, oddly proud.
"How?" I asked, clenching my jaw, curious if I had missed something.
"After you left like someone had just told you he had terminal lung cancer, Dr. Rowan didn't take long to leave as well," House narrated casually. "So I deduced you two talked about something bad."
"Of course," I murmured, rolling my eyes in exasperation at both myself and Dr. Rowan.
House smirked, proud. "So, why are you going to tell him?" he asked seriously, tilting his head toward the wall where Cameron and Chase were working.
"He deserves to know," I responded immediately. "Why weren't you going to tell him?" I asked, matching House's seriousness.
"I don't care," he replied instantly, shrugging as he lifted a magazine to completely cover his face.
Sighing, I opened the door to leave the office.
"All good?" Chase asked me with an amused smile.
"Just House," I replied sarcastically, tilting my head. Both Chase and Cameron sighed and nodded in understanding without me needing to explain further.
"Hey, I'm a fun guy, right?" I asked, recalling my conversation with Kat at school.
My question made the two doctors in front of me stop smiling completely.
"Yeah," they both answered at the same time after exchanging a brief glance.
"Tell me the truth," I said, frowning quickly. "Please," I added.
"You're funny," Cameron said with a slightly awkward smile, lowering her head slightly.
Even though it wasn't an insult, it certainly felt like one.
"What?" I asked incredulously. "No, not you guys too," I added, shaking my head in frustration.
"I'm sorry, mate, it's just that you're a sixteen-year-old who spends half his day working in a hospital without pay," Chase declared with an awkward smile, making Cameron nod in agreement. "And you're probably the only teenager in the world who drives under the speed limit with that car," he added, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Every Monday when I ask about your weekend, it's almost always the same answer," Cameron added, pressing her lips together uncomfortably. "Never a party or something stupid like the rest of your peers."
Mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say, I nodded and forced myself to slowly close my mouth as I walked out of the room.
I was definitely fun.
For some reason, that day I felt no need to practice anything in the skills lab. Instead, I walked to the hospital auditorium, calling Neil, the person in charge of miscellaneous equipment, beforehand to set up a projector for me.
I had some surgery videos I wanted to watch, and rather than viewing them on a small television, I was going to do something out of the ordinary. I was fun.
Much later that day, after training and returning home, I decided to go to Meemaw's house to meet up with Diane.
"Hey," Diane greeted me with a soft smile a few seconds after I knocked on the door.
"Hello," Diane responded, pressing her lips together slightly.
"So, Kat told you about the party," I asked seriously after properly greeting Diane, as we sat on Meemaw's porch.
"Oh yeah, we even went to buy new clothes for the party," Diane quickly responded. "Kat said 'cool clothes,' whatever that is," she added, narrowing her eyes slightly in amusement.
"Really?" I asked, surprised. "Can I see this 'cool clothes'?" I asked, smiling.
"You'll have to wait," Diane declared playfully with a small smile.
"Are you sure about that? You're just building expectation," I asked, forcing myself to keep a neutral expression.
"That's a fair point," Diane said, narrowing her eyes and nodding slightly. "But I think it's fine. Kat, Mandela, and the store clerk all agreed that you'd be 'mesmerized' by me," she added calmly and proudly.
I wasn't sure she was supposed to tell me that.
"Now I really want to see it," I said amused. "So I suppose correctly that you want to go to the party," I asked, resting my head on my hand as I got lost in Diane's eyes.
"Oh yeah, Kat made it sound like an interesting experience. I want to go," Diane declared, nodding calmly.
"All right," I murmured, smiling as I noted the seriousness in Diane's response and her lack of hesitation.
The next day passed without anything really interesting happening, like any other day—until the evening. Kat and Mandela had arrived, 'kidnapping' Diane from my house, where we had been watching movies, agreeing on a time to meet outside Meemaw's house since they needed time to 'get ready.'
Checking my watch in disbelief, I noticed that there were still almost two hours left before the agreed time.
"You're going to a party?" Mom asked as she stepped out of her room at the same time Diane left with Kat and Mandela.
"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you," I responded, deciding to completely ignore the fact that Mom had obviously been eavesdropping.
I hoped she wouldn't be mad at me for my irresponsibility in telling her. Definitely a fun guy.
"Oh, that's good," Mom declared cheerfully.
What?
"It's really good that you're going out," she added, relieved. "Have fun, and don't let Diane drink too much at her first party," she reminded me seriously.
"Wait," I said, stopping Mom as she headed back to her room. "Aren't you going to warn me, I don't know, not to drink or to be responsible?" I asked, frowning.
"Oh," Mom said, strangely caught off guard, tilting her head back slightly. "Well, you're you. I didn't see the need to remind you of something I was sure you were already going to do."
Even my mother...
Before I could say anything else, Charlie's crying from Mom's room quickly caught her attention, and she walked swiftly toward it. "Mommy's coming, Charlie!" she exclaimed in a baby voice halfway down the hallway.
"Hey, Gabe," I said to my brother, who had been sitting with Diane and me.
"Yeah?" he asked without taking his eyes off the television.
"I'm a cool guy, right? Fun and stuff?" I asked.
"Yeah," he answered easily, nodding. Unlike everyone else who had given me the same response, this time, Gabe actually meant it.
"Thanks, bud," I murmured, patting his shoulder.
With half an hour left before the agreed time, I got ready, putting on basically what I wore every day—a heterochromatic polo shirt, my pants, and sneakers.
After finishing five minutes later, I looked at myself in the mirror and remembered what everyone I had asked had told me. Nodding resolutely, knowing I couldn't choose a better 'look,' I went to the only person in my house who could help me.
"What?" Teddy asked, opening her door and letting loud music spill out. Inside, Bianca and Baja, her friends, were lying on her bed reading magazines.
"Would you help me choose something different to wear?" I asked, pointing at my clothes.
"Yes," Teddy immediately responded as if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life, not even needing to think about it. "Come on," she said excitedly, pushing me toward my room. Her two friends followed shortly after, just as excited.
Almost immediately, I regretted my decision, but I knew there was no turning back.
"It's a party, so you can't go formal," Teddy said while she and the other two rummaged through my closet.
Bianca and Baja occasionally pulled out a piece of clothing, showing it to the rest, and within seconds, they reached a consensus. From what I gathered, there were three piles—definitely no, maybe, and yes.
"So this, right?" Teddy asked her friends, pointing at a small set of clothes. After studying me, they nodded slowly. "All right, get dressed," Teddy ordered as she walked out of my room.
It took my sister a couple of seconds to realize her friends hadn't followed her. Instead, they stood there, seemingly expecting me to undress in front of them. Obviously, I didn't. Instead, I looked at them uncomfortably.
"Really?" Teddy asked incredulously, returning a moment later and dragging her friends out of the room. "He's my brother," I heard her say in annoyance as she closed the door behind her.
Sighing in disbelief, I changed into the outfit they had chosen— a shirt, pants, and a pair of shoes London had bought for me but that I had never worn, not finding the right occasion.
A minute later, I opened my door to find Teddy and her two friends waiting outside.
"Oh yeah," Teddy nodded proudly. "Just—" she stepped closer and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt, partially revealing my chest. "That's it," she declared, smiling at her friends, who nodded in agreement.
Bianca, standing next to Teddy, slowly raised her hand as if trying to touch me. Before I could react, Teddy, completely unfazed, swatted her hand away.
"Okay," I murmured, confused. "Well, tha—" I was about to thank her, but Teddy interrupted me.
"Now, accessories and fragrance," she declared, clapping her hands before pushing me back into my room.
Once again, the three girls started searching through my things.
"This is the only watch you have?" Teddy asked, looking displeased as she pointed at the watch I had bought for work. It was quite functional.
"Yeah," I answered, slightly offended by her disgusted expression.
"I'm going to check Dad's watches," she said, shaking her head incredulously as she walked out of my room, leaving me alone with her two friends, who were now standing in front of me.
"So, how are you?" I asked with a smile, feeling slightly uncomfortable after a few seconds.
Instead of answering, Bianca once again raised her hand, attempting to touch my exposed chest, and once again, before I could stop her, Baja intervened.
"You have to be strong," Baja reminded Bianca with an oddly concerned tone, completely ignoring my incredulous expression.
"All right, this is the best I could find," Teddy said as she returned, holding a watch in her hand. "You need to buy more accessories," she added, forcibly grabbing my hand and putting Bob's watch on my wrist.
"Well, I think that's it," Teddy said, stepping back after another couple of minutes, nodding in satisfaction. "Congratulations, girls," she added, smiling formally at her friends.
"Congratulations," Bianca and Baja echoed at the same time, mimicking Teddy's formal tone as they shook hands.
Checking Bob's watch on my wrist, I realized it was practically the time we had agreed to leave for the party. I really didn't understand how we had taken so long.
"Well, thanks, girls," I said playfully, pressing a rough kiss on my sister's forehead.
"Ew," Teddy replied, trying to escape my grasp.
"See you later," I added awkwardly as I let go of my sister and noticed both Bianca and Baja taking a small step forward. Uncomfortable, I quickly left my room.
After saying goodbye to Gabe, who was still watching TV, I left the house, worried that I was already a few minutes past the agreed time with the girls.
When I arrived at Meemaw's house, I was confused to see that Mandela's truck was still parked on the street. I knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds.
"Wow, who are you?" Meemaw asked as she opened the door, holding a cup in her hand.
"I don't look different," I stated seriously, not amused by the implication in Meemaw's words.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Meemaw murmured sarcastically, nodding. "They're not ready yet, wait there," she said, pointing to the bench on her porch before stepping back inside and closing the door behind her.
"What?" I asked the closed door. They had been in there for over two hours—what could possibly be taking them so long?
Ten minutes later, my questions faded entirely as I saw Diane step out, now wearing makeup, a short red dress, and a black leather jacket.
"Hey," Diane said, smiling slightly, looking a little embarrassed, breaking the silence.
Consider me mesmerized.
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When translating the chapter, 300 words disappeared, usually it's 50-60 words when translating from Spanish to English, but this time there were many more, there may be some mistakes in this chapter, when I can I'll fix them, sorry for that.
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Author Thoughts:
As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, not a fighter, not Magnus Carlsen, not Michael Phelps and not Arsene Lupin.
I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.
Thank you for reading! :D
PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.