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Of all the pages where I publish the story, scribble hub is where there is the least interaction with readers, according to the page there are 73 active readers, but there is only an average of 2-3 comments per chapter (thank you very much, although I do not respond to them I always read them, I'm going to start answering them), I would like to know if anyone knows the reason behind this, maybe something that I can change.

Enjoy

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"So, do I have to look for the tickets up someone's butt?" I sarcastically asked.

"That would actually be a great plan, unfortunately, to do that, I would have to put them in there first," House said with feigned disappointment a moment later, reaching back into his coat pocket and taking out two plane tickets.

"You're welcome. I could have 'forgotten' to give you the return one, but I'm feeling generous," the man said with a fake smile as he handed me the two tickets.

"I'm touched by your generosity," I said apathetically, tucking the tickets into my pants, not without checking them first. Knowing House, the man could easily consider it a joke to give out fake tickets somehow.

"Well, kid, I'll leave you to it. I have a date with Carmen and her amnesia in the maternity lounge," House said, rising to his feet with restrained excitement. "By the way, what are you doing today?" he asked, surprising me, the question itself was quite friendly, something House obviously wouldn't do.

"What's going on?" I asked suspiciously, looking at the man.

"I can't be interested in my protege's day?" House asked with exaggerated offense on his face.

"No, you don't ask those questions," I said bluntly.

"Would you believe me if I said I changed and now I care about you?" House asked, abruptly stopping, putting, in his opinion, a touching expression on his face.

"No, and don't do that, it's scary," I repeated, stepping back from the strange man.

Sighing, House straightened up again, "no humility, huh?" he said ironically, shaking his head.

"You know very well that I'm going to the skills lab," exasperated by his jokes, I said, rolling my eyes.

"Was it that hard?" raising his free hand dramatically, House exaggeratedly asked, "have a great day at the skills lab," he said again, acting strangely, lightly tapping my shoulder before leaving his office.

"Thank you," I said, puzzled. House was obviously planning something.

Leaving the strange behavior of House in the back of my mind, I headed to the skills lab that I usually used to practice everything I had once learned along with the new techniques I found in various library books.

After several minutes of performing suture techniques one after another, following my notes step by step, the door of the lab opened. "I knew it was a lie," Dr. Wilson said with a small victorious smile.

"What?" I asked, puzzled by the man.

"House," Dr. Wilson simply said by way of explanation.

"I was supposed to be in House's office when you arrived to take you to the boardroom," the man indicated with a hint of anxiety that I should follow him.

"The boardroom?" I asked.

"Yes, you've impressed a lot of people, PJ," placing his hand on my shoulder, the man said, "Cuddy reported your achievement to the board, and they want to meet you. We were supposed to be there several minutes ago," he said hurriedly.

Following Dr. Wilson through the hospital corridors, we arrived at a room I had never been in before.

Besides Dr. Wilson, only eight other people in the room were wearing lab coats, but a few dozen others like Dr. Cuddy were dressed formally.

"This must be the one everyone's talking about, a little late, but all good things tend to come last, right?" one of the formally dressed people, a tall woman with glasses, said with a small professional smile.

"PJ, this is President Linda Hagemeyer, the president of East Texas Tech," Dr. Cuddy said, stepping forward to stand beside the president, her eyes widening in my direction.

"Pleased to meet you, President Hagemeyer," feeling uncomfortable in the presence of so many well-dressed people, I said, nodding as formally as possible, eliciting a slight nod from Dr. Cuddy with a smile.

"Oh, please don't be so formal, come, take a seat," the woman said, maintaining a professional smile as she pointed to a chair at the end of a long table.

As I sat down, I noticed how the vast majority of people in the room kept their attention fixed on me with smiles similar to President Hagmeyer's. Strangely, I felt like I was back in the school hallways when I was the center of attention. "Oh, forgive my rudeness," President Hagmeyer said, taking a seat at the other end of the table.

"I'm sure you know most of the people in lab coats in this room right now, the department heads," the president continued, pointing with her open palm to one side of the table.

I didn't know everyone, in fact, I only knew two doctors out of the nine present, Dr. Wilson and Dr. Stratford.

The doctors maintained friendly smiles on their faces as they silently greeted me with a nod of their heads.

"And on this side, we have the legal and public relations team from both the hospital and the university," the president continued, pointing in the same manner across from the doctors.

The legal and public relations team, on the other hand, had strange smiles as they unconsciously leaned slightly towards me, which was slightly disturbing.

"I don't know if you're aware of what you've done for this hospital," leaning back in her chair, President Hagmaeyer said, "being recognized in a Nobel Prize-winning article is an achievement that many hospitals and universities dream of having, and until recently, it was my understanding that the university hospital had indeed achieved this feat," surprisingly keeping her smile completely stable, the president continued.

I noticed Dr. Cuddy next to me slightly nodding her head with a forced smile.

"And what a surprise to discover that it was all thanks to a brilliant teenager who wasn't listed in any university records," clasping her hands while still maintaining her smile, the president said.

"So, I organized a meeting to, on behalf of the university, thank you for your incredible achievement and to find out about your experience here?" widening her smile slightly, opening her shoulders, basically being more open with her body language, the woman asked.

After finishing her little speech, once again all the eyes of the people present fell on me.

"It's been excellent, Dr. Cuddy and all the doctors at the hospital have been very helpful," I replied unsurely. I didn't really know what response the president was looking for, but judging by Dr. Cuddy's small reaction, it was possibly the best response I could have given.

"I'm very glad to hear that. Now, onto the more important topic now, your mother works at the hospital, right?" still smiling, the woman asked.

"Yes, she's a nurse," I replied calmly.

"That's perfect, we would like to organize a meeting with your parents to discuss your formal registration at the university, of course, everything would be free," maintaining her professional smile, the woman continued.

"I'm sorry, what would that entail?" I asked, beginning to form a theory about the strange behavior of the non-medical people present.

"Oh, just an 'update' to the benefits you already have, you'll be able to attend any class you want, for example," the president said with a bit of nervousness.

I understood what was happening, of course I knew what being recognized in a Nobel Prize-winning article meant for a university, what the president was doing was securing the university's name in anything I could achieve in the future, hence the presence of the public relations department.

"Dr. Cuddy also mentioned some time ago about the possibility of witnessing any surgery I wanted, of course, only as an observer," I innocently said.

"Oh," removing her smile for practically a fraction of a second, the president directed her attention to the representatives of the legal department who immediately nodded almost imperceptibly, "of course, consider it done," returning to her previous position, the president nodded cheerfully.

"And let's say, if one of these days I wanted to publish an article on my own, would I have the support of the university?" I asked, gauging the president's response through her body language. Usually, it's necessary to have a title for any medical journal to accept articles for publication, but in some cases, journals allow collaboration from authors who can demonstrate their knowledge without the need for a title, in this case with the support of a university.

"Of course," the president said, pleasantly surprised.

"Then I can't say I'm not excited. Thank you very much for this opportunity," I said, smiling widely. I knew that the president would possibly be willing to offer me anything as long as I was formally registered at the university. Now, until I graduated from my formal education, any achievement would be shared with the university.

I had no problem with the idea of sharing recognition. After all, the hospital, and therefore the university, owning the property allowed me access to equipment that I wouldn't otherwise be able to access.

"I'm very happy to hear that. Now, all we need is some papers for your parents to sign, and we can officially recognize you as a university member," the president said cheerfully, making the public relations representatives strangely applaud with excitement.

Following the public relations representatives, the doctors and lawyers also began to applaud. The whole situation seemed embarrassing to me; nearly twenty unknown person were calmly giving an ovation to my achievements.

After the president's announcement, the people, specifically the doctors, in the room approached me personally to congratulate me on my achievements. After each excited congratulation, each doctor took a few seconds to introduce themselves and offer their help whenever needed. All those I hadn't met previously seemed especially interested in me remembering them.

"The way you asked for more things was a smart move," the last to approach me, Dr. Wilson, in his friendly manner, said, avoiding being heard by other people.

"I feel like I could've asked for more," I murmured.

"You could've asked for a parking spot," Dr. Wilson said, shrugging.

"PJ, we'll see each other again in a few days. I'll get in touch with your parents to arrange a meeting. Again, let me thank you and congratulate you for your contribution," the president said formally offering a handshake. "I expect great things from you as you continue with excellent work."

The president, along with the public relations teams and legal representatives, left the room.

With the 'external' people from the hospital out of the vicinity, the doctors still present thought it appropriate to approach me again. From how they boasted about their achievements and advancements, it seemed like the doctors were trying to impress me. Fortunately, all the topics discussed were about medical achievements; otherwise, I would have found a way to escape the situation.

"I think that's enough; we all still have work to do," Dr. Cuddy said over the voices of the doctors, managing to get the excited doctors to leave the room a moment later.

"Thank you for speaking well of me with the president," Dr. Cuddy said, approaching.

"It's nothing," I assured her, "I didn't know I was a secret to the university though," I said with a slight ironic smile. I could expect that from House, but Dr. Cuddy? It seems I don't know the woman well enough to deduce her actions.

"You weren't a secret at all. I accepted having you here because House showed me that Dr. Thomas had taken an interest in you, but I didn't think it would be enough for the university to allow you to stay," Dr. Cuddy said assertively. "But with you adding the university's name to the article, that's settled," Dr. Cuddy continued, relieved, as we walked out of the meeting room.

The day continued, and I was able to return to the skills lab without many more people congratulating me or trying to dazzle me with their own achievements, fortunately.

Like every day after the hospital, I went to my training with Case, where we practiced different techniques of punches, kicks, and submissions once again.

"I won't be able to come tomorrow or Saturday," at the end of the training, playing our chess game, I told Case.

"Okay," the muscular man said without much importance, keeping his attention on the board.

"I'm going to Boston," I continued, trying to start a conversation.

"Look, kid, as I told you the first time, come often or don't come at all, missing two days is fine, you don't have to give me excuses," Case said, removing his attention from the board with his ever-present frown.

"I understand, I just wanted to make some conversation. I like our games, but silence can be a bit awkward," I quickly defended myself.

Case, maintaining his frown, stared at me for several seconds. "Okay, why are you going to Boston?" lowering his head slightly and losing the frown for a few seconds, Case asked.

"That's it, was that so hard?" I asked cheerfully, receiving only a raised eyebrow from Case.

Accepting my defeat, I forgot the cheerful attitude and briefly told Case the reason for my trip.

"So, you're like a genius?" during the story, Case, getting more comfortable, asked interested.

"I've studied a lot," I explained.

"I knew it wasn't normal for a child to know so much about ligaments and bones," Case nodded slightly.

"Well, ligaments and bones are a big part of studying medicine," I joked.

"Winning this award sounds like a great achievement," Case said, moving one of his pieces.

"Yes, the Nobel Prize is one of the highest recognitions a doctor can receive," I calculated my next move while response.

"So, now you're famous, will you be in the newspapers?" Case asked, raising one of his eyebrows, seemingly more interested in our conversation.

"Oh no," I responded immediately, more attention? No thanks. I needed recognition within the medical community; I wasn't interested in any fame or public recognition.

"I appeared in the newspaper a few times," surprisingly, Case said, sharing a piece of his past, "I won some jiu-jitsu tournaments," he explained.

"When did this happen?" I asked, interested in the small part of my 'sensei's', as Tim called him, past.
 
"Many years ago," lost in his memories, Case replied.

"Was this when you were in Brazil?" I asked again, seizing the rare opportunity when Case was actually willing to talk.

"Checkmate in seven," Case interlocked his arms, ignoring my question.

I knew that gradually the man would be willing to tell his interesting story, but in the meantime, I had lost another game.

"You're improving, but again, you're focusing too much on the game and not on the player," cryptically, Case said, gathering his things before heading into his camper.

"Okay," I half-understood his cryptic message, saying to myself before heading home.

During dinner, I told my family about my invitation to Boston the next day. Bob readily agreed, a sentiment that Mom proudly shared.

"So, your father will take you to school tomorrow, and then pick you up to go to the hospital. You need to pack," Mom said excitedly after dinner.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll do it later," I tried to reassure Mom, but apparently, she didn't hear me as she walked out of earshot muttering things.

As usual, after dinner, Bob, Gabe, and I trained in the garage. Despite training daily with Case, the man had also instructed me on the 'correct' way to perform exercises to develop useful muscles so I can train in home with real weigths and not just some random sand bags.

When we finished training as usual, only Bob and I remained behind, as Gabe, still very young, had to leave earlier to avoid any injuries.

"You're making so much progress, in everything" still in the garage before we left, Bob stopped me, putting his hand on my shoulder, "I've been saying it a lot lately, PJ, but still, I feel like I'm not saying it enough. I'm so proud of you," he continued, pulling me into a hug.

The hug lasted a few seconds until, pushing me slightly out of his embrace "come on, you're all sweaty", Bob said playfully as he cleaned his hands in his shirt.

"You're one to talk," I replied with a smile, leaving the garage with him.

I parted ways with Bob on my way to my room to grab clean clothes before taking a shower.

In my room, my bed and part of Gabe's bed were covered in clothes, specifically mine. Seeing Gabe on his own bed, the boy indicated to me with his eyes to our closet where Mom was constantly looking for clothes. "Oh, PJ, I have several options for you," turning and facing me with a big smile, Mom said, showing me shirts in her hands.

"Mom, remember I'm only going for three days, right? I think I'll be fine with just my backpack and some changes" I said worriedly, seeing the mess the petite woman had made.

"Of course, I remember you're going just three days, you need a lot of clothes so no backpack. Right now, it's very cold in Boston you'll need several changes," Mom said seriously, "in fact, I unpacked your coats and jackets. I can't find your gloves, but you can buy some at the airport before heading out into the cold," she continued as she began to pack clothes into a suitcase.

"I also took out your suit. The party is formal; you have to dress elegantly," grabbing a suit that I had only seen once while unpacking the boxes, Mom said.

"I don't think it'll fit me anymore," taking it from the small woman's hands, I said, looking at the slimness of the garment. I had grown enough in these months of training, and this suit was doubtlessly something PJ wore recently.

"That's a problem," comparing the size of my torso with the suit jacket, Mom said thoughtfully.

"I can buy a piar in Boston as well, possibly even at the airport," I said, tossing the suit onto Gabe's bed.

"Yes, that would be best," Mom nodded slowly, saying, "Well, we'll sort that out tomorrow," clapping once, Mom continued packing clothes into the suitcase.

"I'm going to take a bath," I said, trying to ignore the scattered clothes in the room, grabbing some of my clean clothes from Gabe's bed, I left the room to start my nightly routine.

In the end, it didn't really matter what clothes Mom chose; anything in my closet would be something I could wear without any problems.

"Mom said to put your suitcase in the living room so Dad remembers to take it," Gabe said, apparently ready for bed, lying on his bed as I returned to my room.

"Ok thanks," I said, picking up the suitcase, which was heavy enough for Mom, a woman just over four months pregnant, to carry without it being dangerous.

Back in my room, dressed in my pajamas, I was ready to sleep. "PJ, are you still awake?" in the darkness of our room, Gabe asked, concern in his voice, suddenly breaking the silence.

"What's up, buddy?" I asked, trying to see the child in the darkness.

"Where's Boston?" Gabe asked, still with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Boston is the capital city of Massachusetts, to the right of New York on a map," I calmly replied.

"Is that very far?" Gabe asked weakly.

"It's almost a four-hour flight," I explained, "but hey, don't worry, I'll be back here by Sunday at the latest," I reassured my brother.

"All right," much calmer, Gabe said, then surprisingly fell immediately asleep.

That night, for some reason, I slept peacefully.

The next day, as we had planned, Bob took me to school while Mom took Teddy and Gabe.

At school, when I arrived at my locker in the morning, as was a daily tradition, Kat arrived a few moments later. "What did you do?" leaning on the locker next to mine, she asked, concerned.

"I took some of my books out of my locker," I said, showing her my algebra book, jokingly. 

"With my dad" she clarified with annoyance, "he asked me to invite you to dinner," Kat continued, with a puzzled look on her face.

"Really?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yes, during dinner last night, he told me to ask you," Kat explained, still puzzled.

"Well, it's just something that happened at the hospital, nothing important," I said, not wanting to boast about such a trivial achievement to normal high school teenagers.

"Well, whatever it was, it had Dad very excited; he was very insistent that you accept the invitation," Kat continued still puzzled by the whole thing.

"I won't be in town until Sunday night, so maybe next week," I said, "do you think that's okay with your parents?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah sure, Dad was just super interested in having a conversation with you I don't think he mind if it's tomorrow or in a week, and Mom was excited because she'll finally get to meet you," Kat said, amused, still leaning on the locker.

"Finally?" raising one of my eyebrows, I asked loftily, causing the teenager to lose her smile. "Strange."

"What's strange?" nervously, Kat asked.

"Finally" I repeted growing a smile "that means she's heard some things about me," narrowing my eyes, I said, making Kat tense up a bit. "Someone has told her a lot about me, but who?" slamming my locker shut, I asked, surprising Kat, "possibly your sister," adjusting my backpack on my shoulder, I pretended to theorize, avoiding smiling at the unconscious look of relief Kat made.

"Well, whatever," taking pity on the teenager, I said, "thank your parents for me," I continued.

The day at school passed without much else, and in the end, Bob was waiting in his truck ready to go to the airport.

After nearly two hours of travel, outside the airport, Bob was helping me unload the suitcase from the trunk. "Does your mom know you're only going for three days, right?" looking at the suitcase on the ground, Bob asked.

"Yeah," staring at the suitcase next to Bob, I said, somewhat amused.

"You would have been fine with a backpack," smiling and lightly tapping my shoulder, Bob said.

"That's what I said," smiling back at the man, I replied.

"Well, we arrived with an hour and a half to spare, more than enough time to go through security," keeping one of his hands on my shoulder, Bob said, while checking the time with his other hand.

"Thanks for bringing me," lifting the handle of the suitcase, I said, immediately pulled into a hug by the man.

"You don't have to thank me, PJ, do you have your cash?" Bob asked. When he picked me up from school some time ago, he brought along with my luggage some cash for anything I might need.

Although I had my credit card with me, I couldn't blindly rely on it; there might not be an ATM nearby.

"Yes, don't worry," hugging the tall man affectionately, I said calmly.

"Good, when you get to Boston airport, remember to find a payphone to call home," Bob said seriously, stepping away from me.

"I won't forget," I assured him.

"Okay," Bob said, sighing thoughtfully before smiling again, "go have fun, or whatever you brainiacs do," patting my back, Bob said as a farewell.

"Sure, thanks, Dad," I replied, grabbing my luggage and walking into the airport.

The last time I was at an airport was a few days after the attack, when airlines began selling commercial flights again. Airport security had been forced to improve; security checks were, for obvious reasons, much stricter, and the whole process was incredibly slow.

After bidding farewell to Bob, passing through security took no more than ten minutes. My luggage wasn't inspected by any officers, and my driver's license was sufficient for identification. In less time than I had anticipated, I found myself inside a waiting area, waiting for my flight to be called for boarding.

With nothing more than a few magazines handed out by airport staff, the next hour of waiting was extremely monotonous.

When they finally called my flight to board, I took my place among the sea of people in line before entering the plane, finding my seat.

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Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter. (Thanks for reminding me.)

I know I promised to publish more chapters per week, and I wasn't lying about that. However, midterm exam season has returned, so I have to study. But once I'm done with the exams, I'll have 3-4 weeks of "calm" (help), so I'll have more time to write.

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.