Taking advantage of being alone in Principal Petersen's office with a pho my disposal, for the first time since I had obtai during my first drive with Diane around Medford, I dialed the number of the house her family was renting.
Hoping that whoever answered oher end wouldn’t be Mrs. Adler, I waited as the ph.
"Hello?" After a couple s, a child's voice finally responded oher end of the line.
"Frank," I said, relieved not to fa awkward moment. "Hey, buddy, it's PJ, Diane's friend," I expined calmly.
"Oh, the oh the nice car," the boy said after a sed, realization dawning in his voice.
"That's the one," I replied, amused by how he remembered me. "Is Diahere?" I asked after a moment.
"Mom and Diane are w on a problem. Mom doesn't like being interrupted," Frank said irritably.
"Okay, then it’s best not to bother them," I agreed seriously. " I ask you a favor?"
"I guess," Frank said impatiently.
"When your mom and sister are doh whatever they're doing, you tell Diane I 't pick her up today? I had to go to the hospital," I said slowly, trying to make sure the boy would remember everything. "Got it?"
"Yeah, when they're done—don't e for her—hospital. Got it," Fraed monotonously.
"Okay..." I said slowly, uain if the boy really uood. "Thanks, buddy ime I see you I will bring you some dys, a lot of chocote."
"Cool thanks," the boy said, immediately hanging up.
"Good, see you," I muttered to the silent phone, hanging it up once more.
Preparing my 'game face', I left with my belongings, only to find Principal Petersen and his secretary waiting outside the office.
"Is everything all right, son?" Principal Petersen asked, his brow slightly furrowed with .
"It should be, sir," I said, nodding and avoiding his eyes, fog instead on his feet. "But I o go to the hospital. Will that be a problem?"
"Oh, no, absolutely not," Principal Petersen said quickly. "You go; I'll expin it to Mrs. Ingram."
I had no idea what lies exactly House had fed Principal Petersen, and I didn't want to find out.
"Thank you, sir," I said, nodding to him, and then turo the secretary. "Ma'am," I added, giving her a small nod before leaving the room and heading for the parking lot.
Stig to the speed limit, I quickly arrived at the hospital. After briefly greeting the nurses, who seemed surprised by my sudden arrival, I made my way to the diagnostic lounge.
"Twelve minutes," House called out as I ehe lounge, oddly lying on the floor of his office with headphones on, ected to his record pyer. Raising his voice to check his watch, he tinued, "I see that the word of a man isn't something they teach at your precious school," removing his headphones and speaking at a much more normal volume.
"Well, I don't expect to learn it here either, at least not from you," I said with a fake smile, taking one of the free chairs.
"Yeah, I’ve got way more important things to teach you," House decred arrogantly, struggling to get up from the floor.
"Sure, sure," I said sarcastically. "Now, why am I here?"
"John Henry Giles," House said, enunciating each part of the name as if it were something important.
"Who?" I asked genuinely, not knowing who he was talking about, causing House to frown incredulously.
"No, seriously, what do they teach you at that school of yours?" House asked, strangely offended.
"Unimportant things like math, history and English," I responded with a shrug, ironic.
"And they have the audacity to call themselves educators," House said, shaking his head in disapproval.
"I know, you believe it?" I asked exaggeratedly, keeping my fapletely serious. "Now, you tell me why a jazz musi is important?"
"I thought you didn't know who he was," House said, raising an eyebrow as he slowly dragged his chair behind his desk.
"All the record covers on the floor have his name," I said casually, pointing to the stacks of records scattered a few steps from his desk.
"Oh, look who's starting to pay attention," House said with a half-smile, g his hands in front of his face. "What’s important here isn’t that he’s a musi; it’s figuring out why he’s paralyzed."
"So, 'a dying man and aremely sad family,' huh?" I asked irritably, recalling what he had told me over the phone.
"Well, there’s no clear reason for the paralysis, and with a sudden, simple case of lobar pneumonia, he doesn’t have lo," House said, shamelessly justifying his lie. "And surely his family, if he has any, would be extremely sad," he added with a shrug.
"So, let me be clear—you made me ditch school to work on a case that, for now, is just lobar pneumonia?" I asked slowly, narrowing my eyes at him.
"That's exactly what I did," House said, smiling without a shred of shame.
"Got it," I said, resigned, knowing that getting angry with him would be pointless.
Before either of us could say more, the office door was suddenly opened by Dr. Foreman, who looked flicted.
"Before you say anything, the kid doesn’t officially work at the hospital, so he doesn’t have to listen to you, even if it’s your case," House said defensively, raising his hand immediately.
"It’s not even your case?" I asked incredulously, looking at House, who merely shrugged one shoulder and tilted his head.
"That doesn’t matter. There’s no case anymore. He signed a DNR," Dr. Foreman said seriously, frowning as he checked his watch. "You pulled him out of school?" he asked, pointing at me with a clipboard and gring at House.
"Yeah, but that's not important," House dismissed easily. "Did you tell him it might not be ALS?" he asked, frowning ied.
Without the patient's chart to review their medical history, and relying solely os and pieces House had shared about the patient's dition, ALS seemed like a solid guess after ruling out various other possibilities, which I was sure other doctors had already do also ated for the pneumonia.
"No," Dr. Foreman responded with a sigh.
"Well, no wonder he signed," House said sarcastically, exhaling loudly. "Who wouldn’t?"
"I started him on I.V. steroids and Synthroid," Dr. Foreman said, ign House's ent.
"Great," House decred sarcastically. "If it were my case, I'd be adding a little IVIG to the mix," he added.
"For his pneumonia?" Dr. Foreman asked.
"That's my story, and I'm stig to it," House replied, raising his hands.
"He doesn't want anything done—no treatment," Dr. Foreman said, shaking his head, a hint of disappoi in his voice.
"DNR means 'do not resuscitate,' not 'do not treat,'" House ented sarcastically, smiling at Dr. Foreman. "If you do nothing, it doesn’t matter whie of us is right," he decred, pletely unmoved.
With House's words, Dr. Foreman simply frowned and walked out of the office, clearly more flicted than when he had entered.
"And hang on to that DNR," House said, stopping Dr. Foreman for a sed. "That signature could be worth a lot of money real soon," he added sarcastically.
"Why doesn't IVIG make more sehan ALS with pneumonia?" I asked, ied, once Dr. Foreman was gone.
"ALS is a death sentence, plus it's a disease of exclusion," House decred, leaning ba his chair.
"So we o exclude more diagnoses," I ented, immediately uanding his reasoning, speaking more to myself than to him.
"You make me so proud," House exaggeratedly remarked, pretending to wipe away fake tears.
"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes in exasperation. "Do you have the chart?" I asked a moment ter, uo tain my curiosity.
"Four minutes and twenty seds," House said with an oddly pleased smile. "I thought it’d take you at least five mio ask," he tinued, sounding slightly disappointed as he reached for a file from his desk drawer. "Read this on the way; you’ve got hours to catch up," he added, slowly getting up with the help of his e.
"Of course," I murmured sarcastically under my breath, shaking my head in exasperation as I followed House out of the diagnostic lounge.
As we walked, I read the patient's chart. Dr. Hamilton, the primary physi for the case, had performed aetery of tests, treatments, and even surgeries, addressing many of the patient's ailments but failing to diaghe paralysis in his legs beyond ALS—a reasonable clusion, though not a good one.
"Why not do an MRI here?" I asked House, still reading the file as I walked behind him.
"If you vinan to do it, I'll give you a dy," House replied sarcastically without looking back.
"Got it," I murmured softly, knowing I robably the worst person to try ving Dr. Foreman of anything.
By the time we arrived at the ic, I hadn’t reached a new or better clusion than House or even Dr. Hamilton, but at least I wasn’t pletely lost on the case anymore.
For the full hour, House and I—well, mostly I—treated the patients arriving at the ic. As usual, there weren’t many iing cases.
"Mr. Brown, please e in," I announced from the sultation room door, wearing House’s b coat and reading from the patient’s chart. I smiled slightly at the man, who stood up with some difficulty.
"Ued diabetes," I said to House as I ehe room well before the patient could get there. House raised an eyebrow in aowledgment.
One way the sarcasti and I had found to eain ourselves was by challengio diagients before they eveered the room.
"Good afternoon," the man said, looking slightly embarrassed when he saw two people in the room, one of whom ractically reing in a chair, reading a rather suggestive magazine.
Seeing him up close, my initial diagnosis seemed even more accurate—shoes at least two sizes too tight, hairless hands, powdered sugar stains on his pants, two obviously greasy napkins poorly tucked into one of his pockets, and noticeable excess weight.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Brown. Please have a seat," I said, pointing to the bed in the ter of the room and smiling politely.
"Don't mind me; I’m just here for quality trol," House decred shamelessly, notig the patient’s eyes were entirely focused on him as he moved his magazine.
"What’s the problem, Mr. Brown?" I asked quickly, drawing the patient’s attention away and avoiding the urge to sigh at House’s plete ck of de.
"Well..." the man said hesitantly, gng at House and then at me, stretg the word as his volume faded.
Erectile issues—easy diagnosis. Diabetes plus embarrassment in a mahirty.
"My nature isn’t what it used to be," the man finally said after a few seds. "The little man has lost some boun his step," he added, gesturing toward his pants with a small, sheepish smile.
I k.
"He o k it up, have himself some fun this weekend," the man tinued, apparently without much thought about how casually he was discussing his penis ihird person. "I’m worried he’ll never be the same."
Sharing a quice with House, who, like me, had clearly noticed the man’s strange habit of referring to his penis this way, I asked, "Are you talking about your penis?" despite already knowing the answer.
"Ihird person," House added from his chair with a broad grin, his words dripping with sarcasm.
"Me and him... two people," the man said, pointing to his fad then his pants, raising his hands.
"Separate vacations? That’d be a drag for one of you," House decred sarcastically.
"It's a great legal strategy; you always bme him," I added sarcastically, uo resist, causing House to point at me with movy—probably annoyed he hadn’t thought of the joke first.
"Yeah, it's gotteo some trouble," Mr. Brown replied, pying along with a pyful grin.
Okay... too much fraternization with the patient. I really didn’t o know that.
"The issue is you o keep your insulin levels steady," I said seriously, deg not to give the odd man any more room to chat.
"Insulin?" the man asked, surprised.
"Yeah, the stuff you take for the diabetes..." I said calmly, noting how he seemed even more startled. "That you fot to tell the nurse about," I added, judging the man seriously. Diabetes was a dangerous dition if not properly managed.
"So, he's not perf correctly because I'm not taking care of myself?" the man asked worriedly.
"Basically," I answered, nodding slowly.
"I get it," the man said, staring at his hands with .
Thankfully, Viagra hadn’t been ied yet, or I was sure Mr. Brown would have ignored his health entirely just to make sure 'he' was taken more seriously.
"Okay, thanks, doctor," the man said as he stood up, his hand for a shake.
"You're wele," I replied with a smile, deg not to correct him to avoid any awkwardness. At that moment, House’s pager went off, prompting him to get up a his magazine aside.
"Just follow your treatment pn, exercise more, and please cut out processed sugars," I said seriously, patting the man’s shoulder. "That includes donuts," I added, making the man’s eyes widen ically—I’d been right about the powdered sugar stain on his pants.
"e on, kid. Code blue," House said, walking out of the rht behind the patient.
Throwing House’s coat onto the chair the man had occupied seds ago, I quickly followed him.
"He signed a DNR," I said nervously as I walked behind House. There were many things I could imagine House doing; going after a patient with a DNR wasn’t even close to the dumbest on that list.
trary to House’s usual behavior, he didn’t make any sarcastients or cutting remarks. Instead, he simply walked in silence.
"House—" I began to say, but out of the er of my eye, I saw Diane down one of the hallways we o cross. She looked pletely worried, walking alongside a nurse who wore a fused expression. "I’ll catch up in a minute," I said, stopping mid-step and heading toward Diahout waiting for House to aowledge me.
"Ah, PJ," Nurse Dolores said when she saw me. "Do you know her? She’s been asking abou—" she started to say, but before she could finish, Diahrew herself into my arms with force.
"Whoa," I said, catg her, surprised. "What’s wrong, Diane? Is everything okay?" I asked, holding her by the shoulders and looking at her with .
"I should be the one asking that," Diane excimed incredulously, stepping back but still holding my arms, her frown deep with obvious anger.
I’d seen Diane upset before, but this was the first time I saw true anger on her face. Given the height differend her o tilt her head up to look me in the eye, it was a little amusing.
"What? Why?" I asked, fused, fighting the urge to smile.
"Frank told me you had to go to the hospital for an emergency," Diane said, sing my body. "I thought you’d been in an act."
"No, I’m okay," I said slowly, trying to recall what I’d told her brother. "There’s a patient, so I had to e quickly."
"So... not you?" Diane asked, l her hands slowly.
"Nope. John Henry Giles," I replied, amused.
"Who?" Diane asked, frowning.
"A musi" I answered easily.
"I realize that makes more sense. I’m sorry for this outburst," Diane said, suddenly adopting the formal tone she always used when pletely embarrassed. She stepped back. "Why would you call me if you were in an act?" she quickly added, scoffing.
"Well, ns," I replied, shrugging slightly amused at her nervousness.
"Oh," Nurse Dolores murmured nearby, ughing softly. She was clearly eained by the iioween Diane and me.
I’d pletely fotten the nurse was still standing there, and judging by Diane’s shocked and embarrassed expression, so had she.
"Thanks fing her here, Dolores," I said with a slightly embarrassed smile, stepping closer to Diane and pg a hand on her back.
"Anything for you, honey," the nurse said sweetly, smiling at me. "Diane," she added with a much more signifit smile, saying goodbye to my friend.
"That wasn’t awkward at all," I said, exhaling dramatically.
"I’m sorry," Diane murmured, embarrassed.
"It’s okay; it wasn’t your fault. I fot she was there too," I replied, amused.
"Not for that—for showing up here suddenly," Diane murmured, avoiding eye tact as she bit her lip lightly.
"I uand why you came. You were just worried—I get that," I said uionally smiling as I nodded. "I’d have dohe same if I thought something had happeo you," I added softly, smiling at her.
"Well, from an anthropological and psychological perspective, for others is an integral part of our social retionships," Diane slowly decred, keeping eye tact. "The more you care about someohe more that directly reflects the emotional e you share," she added, her words and voice slowing further to a soft murmur.
"Yeah," I said slowly, lost in Diane’s eyes.
"Hey, PJ," a doctor—or at least someone wearing a b coat—called out, joking as they passed us.
The suddeing startled both of us, making us step apart quickly. I hadn’t realized how close we had been just a moment ago.
"Hey," I said immediately.
"Who was that?" Diane whispered, clearly as embarrassed as I was.
"I don't know," I replied with a slight chuckle, amused as I watched the doctor disappear at the hallway interse. "I have to go, I have work to do" I said, turning my attention back to Diane, speaking slowly, a bit disappointed.
"Of course," Diane quickly replied, nodding formally, clearly still embarrassed.
"Let me walk you to—wait, how did you get here?" I asked, pausing before to take her to whoever had brought her, secretly hoping it wasn’t her mother.
"Hank brought me; he’s in the waiting room," Diane answered easily.
"Oh, okay. Let me walk you there," I murmured, relieved I wouldn’t have to enter Dr. Adler.
Despite limited iion with her over the past week, the thought wasn’t appealing.
Diane nodded seriously but remained quiet for a few seds, swaying nervously on her feet without moving. "Are going to stay here all day?" she asked, looking me directly in the eyes.
"Uh, no," I replied quickly, momentarily lost in her unusually rge eyes. "In a couple of hours, I’ll go train and then head home," I added, gng at my watch.
After my response, Diane tio sway slightly on her feet as if waiting for something.
"Did you finish all your 'work' for today?" I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly to observe her rea.
"Yeah," Diane responded immediately.
"So, you want to wait here in the hospital?" I asked seriously. "It be b," I warned.
"B?" Diane asked incredulously, widening her eyes. "This is a teag hospital, no?" she added, pletely serious.
"Among other things, I suppose," I replied ambivalently.
"Then it ’t be b, it is a pce of knowledge, learning is never b" Diane said fidently.
"You're pletely right," I ented, amused but keeping a straight face.
"I know," Diane said without hesitation. "So, I stay here?" she asked a moment ter.
"Of course, as long as your stepdad agrees," I said with a shrug. "I take you home before I head bay pce."
"Good," Diane said with a small smile, nodding.
"So, did you really think I was dying?" I asked pyfully as we walked toward the waiting room.
"Yeah," Diane replied calmly. "Hey! It’s not funny," she added with a frown, notig my grin.
"Just a little," I teased, chug lightly causing Diao press my arm.
Not long after, we arrived at the waiting room, where Mr. Summers, wearing a pletely new hat I hadn’t seen before, was ign the amused looks some the reception desk were giving him.
"Son, I'm really gd you're okay," Mr. Summers said, holding his hat as he stood up, his exaggerated Southern drawl on full dispy.
"Thank you, I’m totally fine," I said quickly, nodding and smiling kindly at the man. "I’m really sorry for the misuanding," I added slowly.
"But it wasn’t your fault; it was Frank who didn’t deliver the message correctly," Diane said seriously, her eyes wide with fusion.
"I should have made sure Frank had the right message or followed up myself," I expined, smiling at Diane.
"The important thing is you’re okay, son," Mr. Summers said kindly, pg a hand on my shoulder. "Are you ready to go now, Diane?" he asked, smiling at his stepdaughter.
"About that, PJ promised to show me the hospital and then introduce me to the people he trains martial arts with," Diane said calmly. "So, I stay here?" she asked, genuinely curious, not at all like a typical teenager seeking permission from an authority figure.
"Oh," Mr. Summers murmured, nodding slowly. He raised one eyebrow as he looked at me before turning his attention back to Diane. "Did you finish your work with your mother?" he asked, one eyebrow still raised.
"Yes," Diane answered immediately, prompting Mr. Summers to nod slowly again.
"han ten?" he asked me, dropping his fake Southern at entirely and furrowing his brow in plete seriousness.
"Ten o’clock at the test," I firmed, nodding with matg seriousness.
"I'm going to get in so much trouble," Mr. Summers muttered, stroking his as he nodded. "Have fun, kid," he added, smiling at Diane. "And you, have moderate and responsible fun," he said a sed ter, pointing at me with a frown.
"I’d take that as a yes?" Diane asked, tilting her head to one side and smiling in slight surprise.
"Yes," Mr. Summers replied with a grin, making Diane look at me in surprise.
She probably wasn’t used to getting permission to stay out te.
"Well, thank you, Hank. See you at ten o'clock at the test," Diane said formally, though I could tell she was trying not to smile as she bit her lip lightly.
"Take care of her, okay?" Mr. Summers warned me seriously, pointing again before smiling o time at Diane and walking toward the hospital exit.
"Well, it seems I get to see where you work," Diane said with a slight smile, g her hands in front of her with visible excitement.
"Yup," I replied, amused, as I walked back to where we had been earlier. "Just don’t listen to anything a man with a e says," I added seriously, stopping for a moment.
"A man with a e?" Diane asked, puzzled.
"Doctor House," I expined curtly, tinuing on my way.
"Oh," Diane murmured.
During one of our many versations, the subject of who I was studying medie under had naturally e up. Diane knew House would use anything to moyone.
"So, this is the diagnostics lounge," I said as we ehe office, gesturing to the room. "That’s House’s office—don’t go in there," I added quickly, pointing to the gss door.
"Don’t go in there," Diaed calmly, nodding.
"There’s a rge colle of books, all on medie though," I said, pointing to the bookshelf and tilting my head slightly. "That is basically it," I added, g my hands together. "Oh, and the board over there—don’t touch it either. House... doesn’t like people toug his stuff," I decred, trying not to ugh at the childish and me joke.
"Uood," Diane said with a nod.
"I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but I’ll e back to the lounge," I said, looking at Diane as I walked slowly toward the room’s door.
"Ok," Diane replied, biting her lip slightly and nodding.
Nodding once more at Diane, who was already browsing through the avaible books in the room, I left, heading in the general dire House had gone.
---
Author Thoughts:
As always, I'm not Ameri, not a doctor, not a fighter and I'm not Magnus Carlsen.
With that said,
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.