Maddie, strategically with Gabe's help, had devised some sort of plan in the form of a tour around the city, with many different types of conversation topics. Surely, the plan would have been much more extensive, something completely exaggerated, if I hadn’t interrupted it. Fortunately for me, Gabe found it amusing to embarrass the teenager.

As the days passed in Boston, and as the two girls had planned, they separated the days into dates with me. I had never visited so many places: museums, art galleries, stadiums, parks, theaters, and above all, malls I possibly knew every mall in Boston now, walking through them without buying anything grew enormously in London.

Meredith and Teddy, as well as Gabe and the twins, found strong friendships with each other. So much so that after the first sleepover, Meredith was basically another guest in our suite.

Besides spending time with my family or with the girls, Dr. Grey, as she had promised, had invited me, along with Dr. Thomas, to witness one of her surgeries. In her words, 'one of the interesting ones.'

"I hope we get good seats. If it’s really a surgery with the Grey procedure, the gallery is going to be completely full," Dr. Thomas said calmly as we walked through the hospital corridors.

"Dr. Thomas, PJ, just in time," Dr. Grey, dressed in her surgical uniform and followed by a bunch of much younger doctors, obviously residents, said with some excitement.

"Dr. Thomas, like Dr. Donnall Thomas, Nobel Prize winner?" one of the doctors behind Dr. Grey asked excitedly, making the always kind Dr. Thomas smile slightly and nod. "Sir, it's an honor to meet you," the resident said, still excited, shaking Dr. Thomas’s hand.

One after another, the small army of residents behind Dr. Grey quickly approached Dr. Thomas, slowly but effectively pushing me behind the wall of people, each one waiting their turn to shake the doctor’s hand and ask at least one question.

"Ok, that's enough," Dr. Grey ordered, clapping with a frown. "We have work to do, and Dr. Thomas’s time is too precious to be wasted this way. Doctor," she said, nodding to the man. "PJ, what are you doing back there? Come on."

Moving through a bunch of puzzled doctors, I followed Dr. Thomas and Dr. Grey. I could hear questions related to my identity, including the theory that I might be Dr. Grey's son.

"I’ve been planning the operation for days. With Meredith out of the house, I had the opportunity to stay in the hospital to practice my technique much more," Dr. Grey said to Dr. Thomas with obvious excitement.

"I see your procedure is still as famous as ever," Dr. Thomas declared amused, looking at all the people around us.

"You know how surgery residents are, or at least how they should be, eager for interesting surgeries," Dr. Grey said, smiling at me. "I remember at Dr. Thomas’s celebratory party, you knew the basics of the procedure, PJ. How’s your current knowledge on the subject?" the woman asked me.

"The Grey procedure is for selective hepatic resection. CT and ultrasound are used to precisely map the tumor and its relationship to hepatic vascular structures," I responded immediately.

"What kind of preoperative preparation is done on a patient?"

"Pharmacological agents to improve coagulation and reduce intraoperative bleeding."

"Do you know the anatomical landmarks for the insertion of the trocars?" Dr. Grey asked again, smiling slightly along with Dr. Thomas.

"Umbilical, subxiphoid, right midclavicular line, right anterior axillary line, and right midline," I responded from memory, recalling all the articles I had read and the videos I had seen on the subject.

"Perfectly correct," Dr. Grey declared, strangely proud.

"Where can we go up to the gallery?" Dr. Thomas asked, smiling.

"Over there. I asked one of my residents to keep the best seats for you. It’s also near the megaphone in case you have any questions," Dr. Grey said, pointing to a door and smiling kindly, an expression I quickly learned she only had when talking about medicine.

From the gallery, along with other doctors, many of them standing due to lack of seats, we watched as the surgery began, from the presentation and explanation of the case by one of the nurses to the first small incision made by Dr. Grey.

Dr. Grey answered and asked dozens of questions to and from the residents, often pausing slightly to make sure I fully understood the procedures, encouraging me to ask questions that she redirected to her residents.

After the completely successful surgery, Dr. Thomas and consequently I were invited to chat with the hospital’s surgeons, some of whom I already knew from my first visit to Boston.

"I heard you’re studying with Gregory House. Thanks to him, many hospitals in the country are trying to have a diagnostic department. Even we have one," the chief of surgery said to me with interest.

"Oh yeah, I’ve learned a lot from him in these few months," I said, smiling slightly.

"You better be," the man said amused. "I heard from Dr. Parker, the head of our diagnostic department, that a few weeks ago he tried to send a case to Dr. House’s office, and it was rejected. Apparently, they were already working on another case," the man continued, huffing, "Only work on one case at a time"

"The cases Dr. House usually chooses are of great complexity," I explained, slightly embarrassed. "A few weeks ago, they were working on a case with a female patient presenting allergy symptoms on her hands' skin, then she had a severe allergic attack to the antihistamine. After that, due to the applied epinephrine, she had a heart attack."

"Previous heart conditions?" one of the doctors present in the room asked, interested.

"No, the patient is young with good eating habits. There was nothing in her history indicating a previous heart condition," I responded, making several doctors lean in their chairs, thoughtful.

"Infection?" one of the doctors asked. "Maybe cellulitis," he added.

"No, there was no fever, and the CBC results didn’t detect any infection," I responded immediately, recalling the case and the theories the doctors on House’s team had made.

After that, the surgeons, as if it were some kind of contest, began to theorize. Without the charts with them, I was the only one who could confirm or deny any theory.

After several minutes, having heard everything from completely senseless theories to purely theoretical diseases, I finally gave the answer to the problem.

"I never would have thought of a copper IUD, but it makes perfect sense. After receiving that donation, the allergy worsened," the chief of surgery said, impressed.

"How did they think of that? That type of IUD was discontinued after nineteen eighty," one of the doctors said, surprised.

"Dr. House’s team always handles these types of cases; they’re used to it," I responded, noticing how Dr. Thomas gave me a significant look.

So the days passed in Boston. The last days we spent in the city with my family and Meredith. We went shopping at one of the many malls in the city, buying clothes for everyone, including Meredith, and souvenirs for the people back home.

After saying goodbye to everyone, before we knew it, we were already on the plane back home.

In Medford, after two weeks of not being on the move, the cars were incredibly dusty.

"Mary got a job at her church. Isn’t that fabulous? It’s even consistent with her and her faith; she’s so excited," Mom said after we returned home and she went to the neighbors to get any mail left at our house.

"Good for her," Bob responded as we unloaded the suitcases from his car.

"Yeah, it’s just that she’s worried because she won’t have anyone to look after Miss services, and Sheldon, who will arrive a couple of hours before anyone else in her house," Mom said, slightly disappointed.

"Why doesn’t Teddy take care of it? I mean, she basically takes care of Gabe when he doesn’t music lessons a couple of hours before Dad gets home," I said, carrying an incredibly heavy suitcase, surely full of Teddy’s new clothes.

"I thought about it too, but the job is so they can have a little extra money," Mom replied, shaking her head slightly.

"Well, they're going to be fine," I said, somewhat confident. "It's Sheldon and Missy, they’re smart," I assured, somewhat to myself again as I carried the suitcases into the house.

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"Only a keychain? You went to Boston, and you only brought us a keychain? Come on," the next day at school, Brock asked incredulously, looking at a small keychain in his hand.

"Don't be a baby, be grateful I even thought of you enough to bring you a keychain," I said jokingly while tapping the back of my friend's head. In fact, I had some more gifts in the trunk of my car.

"This is so cool, someday I'll go to Boston," Georgie said, apparently delighted with his own keychain, staring at it while nodding.

"It's a great place," I assured him, lightly punching his shoulder. "Hey Kat! I got a keychain for you, from Boston." Kat, who was passing by in the hallway, didn't stop when I called her. Walking several steps ahead of her friend, Mandella, she kept going, completely ignoring my voice, obviously upset. "Mandella?" I called to the other girl, who was obviously rushing to catch up with her friend, receiving a hurried and apologetic silent response.

"Uh, you're in trouble," David declared amusedly, pointing his finger at my chest.

"Shut up," I responded, pushing his hand away, ignoring his laughter along with Brock's.

"There was a party a few days after New Year's," David said after mocking me enough. "She was there, and she was mad, really mad, so whatever you did, it was pretty bad," he assured, exaggerating.

"My mom heard that, um..." Brock was explaining, nervously stopping mid-sentence when he saw Alan, who as always, was quietly accompanying us.

"Her mom abandoned them," Alan explained with a sigh, making Brock nod slightly, obviously embarrassed.

I had some knowledge of family abandonment statistics. It was quite unusual, to begin with, for a mother to leave her family knowingly. It was obvious that everything depended on each family and their situations, but knowing the Stratford situation... unfortunately, it made a lot more sense for Alan's family.

"Are you going to talk to her?" David asked, losing all his good humor and suddenly becoming serious.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea to pressure her to talk about it. It would be much better for her to decide for herself. After all, that's what friends are for," I replied simply, glancing at Alan.

The first day of classes after the holidays functioned merely as a review of the topics seen before the break, and before I knew it, the classes were over.

"Aren't you busy today?" Brock, who, along with my other friends, was following me to the school parking lot, asked.

"Oh yeah, after this I'm going to the hospital," I explained as we walked toward my car.

"Then why- oh yes," Brock was saying, immediately changing his expression upon seeing a bunch of bags in the trunk of my car.

From every stadium and mall I had visited, I had bought at least one gift for each of my friends: Boston team shirts, caps, balls, basically any kind of gift.

"This is so cool," Georgie said, trying on his cap, supported by the others who were also checking out their gifts.

"Thanks," Alan quietly said with his own gifts in hand.

Outside the hospital, rhythmically tapping the steering wheel of my car, I gathered enough courage to get out and enter the building.

"Ah, PJ, you're back home. I missed seeing you in the clinic. House has been more... you know, House, since you left," Fryday said as she walked toward the building when I got out of my car.

"Impossible, more 'House' than he already is, and it would be the start of the apocalypse, and at least I haven't heard the trumpets," I joked, making the religious woman laugh.

"Ah, I really missed you. It's really good to have you back," she said, squeezing my arm as she walked down one of the hospital corridors, opposite the one I used to go to the diagnostics lounge.

Inside the room, only House was there, playing with some kind of yo-yo. "Oh, look who's back, ta ta rara!" House exaggeratedly said, pretending to have some kind of trumpet in his hands. "The prince himself. How is the Athens of America this time of year, your highness?"

"Cold," I replied, ignoring House's annoying act.

"Of course, I remember the snowy nights; it's not something I particularly miss now," House said sarcastically, raising his cane. "Are you expecting someone?"

As I talked to House, I constantly glanced at the door of the lounge.

"Ah, Chase," House said slowly, nodding. "Still carrying guilt for saving a patient's life," House continued sarcastically.

"No, I don't feel guilty," I immediately clarified. "But I don't want to be seen as someone without empathy..." I added, falling silent, staring at the man.

"Uh, you hurt me," House declared exaggeratedly, clutching his chest.

"As if you care," I scoffed.

"Yeah, you're right," House agreed nonchalantly, picking up his yo-yo again.

"Obviously," I said, hanging my backpack where I always left it. "I'm going to the lab," I added.

"Wait," House said before I could try to leave. "Two weeks, let me see it," he added, stretching out his hand.

"Don't phrase it like that," I said, going back to where I had left my backpack and taking out the almost completely filled notebook that House had given me to study people.

Ignoring me, House opened the notebook to the last entry I had made. "Tipton," he said in surprise after reading for a few seconds. "Even saying it sounds like money," he added exaggeratedly, raising his eyebrows. "Sounds a lot like your cheerleader," he added arrogantly.

"Yes, but at the same time completely different," I replied calmly.

"Yeah, I know, it's all here," House said sarcastically, lifting my notebook. "Surprisingly well-detailed. I can even see how stupid she is," he added ironically.

"She's not stupid," I declared immediately defending my friend.

"Oh come on, 'incredibly innocent' is just an easy way of saying she's incredibly stupid," House declared in mild frustration, rolling his eyes. "Now, talk to me about this case, male, approximately forties, possible cardiac condition."

And so the questioning of my notes began. We were both completely used to the task by now. Explaining my reasoning served as a great memory exercise, and House took full advantage of it. Questions about everything: eye color, smell, the type of socks they wore, different questions to which I occasionally, now very rarely, didn't have an answer.

"It's almost time for you to need a new notebook. I'm sure if you asked Cuddy, she'd make it herself," House said sarcastically, handing the notebook back to me. "Now I have a new trick to practice, go away," he added, adjusting the yo-yo in his hand.

Trying to ignore the man's rude behavior, I left the office and headed to the skills lab. After two weeks without any practice, I wanted to have some kind of intensive training session with any skills I could practice with what was available in the hospital.

As the day passed at the hospital, and once I had arranged all the test tools in the lab, I left for Case's grounds.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Tim said jokingly, already warming up and smiling.

"I missed you too," I said sarcastically, throwing my giant friend a bag with the same type of gift I had given my other friends. "I stole it from Boston."

"Obviously," Tim replied, laughing and checking out the stuff in his bag.

"What's going on here?" Case asked, with his always-present frown, as he came out of his trailer.

"I have gifts," I said, lifting another bag in my hand, making the imposing man focus his attention on me. "Here," I added, slightly nervous, handing over his bag.

Unlike my other friends, I had bought Case a new and elegant chessboard and pieces, as his was quite old.

"Thanks," Case said, nodding curtly with the board out of the bag in his hand. "Now start warming up; we don't have all day," he ordered, cutting off the brief moment of kindness as he walked back to his trailer.

"Thanks, PJ," Tim said, patting my shoulder with the force his size implied.

As Case had promised at Christmas, my training had changed its focus, at least for three days a week, where I focused entirely on punching and kicking techniques.

"So, you resolved whatever was bothering you; that's good," Case said seriously as we started a new game on the new board.

"I accepted the decision I made," I replied, concentrating on the game.

And so the days passed, and with them the week. With no new case at the hospital, I used each day to improve any necessary techniques for my medical career, as well as with Case. I had never felt my training so focused.

Midway through the following week, during lunch at school, I decided to return a book I had borrowed from the library.

"PJ, as always, it's a pleasure to see you," Miss Hutchins said, smiling widely.

"Likewise, Miss Hutchins," I replied, as always, feeling slightly strange about the way she looked at me.

"I told you, you can call me Sheryl," she said again, smiling with her eyes extremely wide.

Without responding, I forced a smile and walked into the library, planning to greet Tam and Sheldon, who were having lunch in the room.

"Your lack of testosterone makes you adorable to women," I heard Tam say as I approached the table he and Sheldon were sharing.

"I can't argue with that," Sheldon agreed seriously.

"Hey Sheldon, Tam," I said, surprised by the conversation, as I dragged one of the chairs over to their table.

"PJ Duncan, my friend," Tam said excitedly, once again using my full name.

"Ah, PJ," Sheldon said, stretching his head as if he had a sudden idea. "Of the three of us, you have the most experience with people of the opposite gender."

"Thanks?" I responded, nodding to my small friend.

"It wasn't a compliment," Sheldon said, puzzled by my response. "I was wondering if you had any advice for me. I'm going to talk to her," he continued, pointing to a solitary girl at another table. "I'd like to invite her to have lunch with us and possibly share a conversation about geostatistics."

"Geostatistics?" I said incredulously, looking at the girl who was reading a book, possibly on the topic. "I see," I responded seriously to Sheldon. "Alright, I'll tell you the secret to talking to girls," I said, lowering my voice and leaning in toward Sheldon, making Tam practically climb onto the table to listen.

"I'm ready," Sheldon said seriously.

"First, you approach her with a smile," I said, checking the surroundings before speaking, again making Tam slightly nervous as he received what seemed to him like privileged information. "You introduce yourself and ask if she'd like to join us," I quickly added, adjusting myself in the chair.

"Got it," Sheldon said, nodding as he left his things on the table and stood up.

Tam, who had obviously expected some kind of secret, moved his food in disappointment before focusing his attention on Sheldon and the girl.

After a few seconds of talking to the girl, Sheldon turned to Tam and me, surprised. "She knows who I am. It's going well," he declared, smiling, causing Tam to raise both thumbs proudly.

The girl, obviously noticing what Sheldon did, looked at Tam strangely, then resumed her conversation with Sheldon before scanning the table again, this time noticing my presence, which seemed to surprise her.

A moment later, Sheldon, followed by the girl, came over to the table I was sharing with Tam.

"Hey, nice to meet you, PJ Duncan," I said, standing up to greet the girl.

"I know who you are," she said, studying me, still surprised and seemingly incredulous about my presence, ignoring my hand entirely.

"Okay," I said, puzzled, slowly lowering my hand.

"I'm Tam," Tam said, smiling flirtatiously.

"Hey," the girl responded, nodding to my Asian friend. "I'm Libby," she introduced herself.

"And as I previously stated, I am Sheldon Cooper," Sheldon said professionally.

"Are you really friends with them?" Libby asked me, still maintaining her incredulity and pointing at Sheldon and Tam, who was still smiling at her.

"Oh definitely, PJ Duncan is my best friend," Tam responded quickly and proudly completely thirsty for the girl's attention.

Oh, Tam.

"Yeah," I responded slowly.

---

Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

I finally finished the Boston arc, as I said it was completely summarized. There were certain things I absolutely had to develop with Boston, such as Meredith and Teddy's friendship, as well as Ellis Grey's invitation to a surgery.

We're getting closer to the end of the first volume. I initially thought each volume would last around 100 chapters, but I'm seeing that the first volume might only last between 80 to 90 chapters.

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.