Grand Hotel
While a reasoned, measured, and polite statement was being delivered outside, Dr. Wilson—who had gone in first—was a bundle of nerves, constantly glancing toward the entrance. 😬
"No need to worry," said Dr. Cameron, the beautiful doctor, with a reassuring smile. Without Dr. House around, she seemed more at ease.
"You don't get it…" Dr. Wilson hesitated, his voice tangled with concern. "With House's personality, running into Duncan? It's unthinkable. He wasn't at the hospital yesterday or today—bet you anything he's been digging into Duncan."
"No big deal," Cameron replied, still smiling. She had a soft spot for Adam and didn't seem fazed. "They're both legends, right? It's only natural they'd be drawn to each other. Even if there's some friction, they'll sort it out. You're only seeing the risks here, not the opportunities."
"Opportunities?" Wilson blinked, caught off guard.
"Yep," Cameron said, glancing at him. "What I see is a chance. After you guys, House has found himself a new anchor."
"Cameron, you…" Wilson's jaw dropped. He was floored.
Of course, he understood what she meant. As House's best bud, he'd always known House carried a dark streak inside him—a pessimism about human nature rooted in an unhappy childhood with his dad. He saw the world through a gloomy lens. Not the weepy, poetic melancholy of a Lin Daiyu, though. Nope, House wielded his arrogance and sharp tongue like a scalpel, slicing through the shadows of humanity lurking under the sun, pissing people off and leaving them stewing in their own "poetic sadness." 😏
If someone could hit back with facts and prove him wrong, he'd actually be delighted. But the problem was, his piercing insight was almost always spot-on. Sure, he left others wallowing in misery, but it didn't exactly leave him skipping through daisies either.
That dark, sarcastic vibe of his life hit a new peak after his accident. A deep vein thrombosis in his leg left him in agony, desperate for relief through anesthesia. Before passing out, he begged his wife to trust his medical judgment. But when he was out cold, she went with the surgeon's call instead. When he woke up, he was permanently crippled—and drowning in endless pain.
The physical torment drove him to pop Vicodin like candy, spiraling into addiction. The mental anguish pushed his already bleak view of humanity to the edge, birthing a death-wish vibe. That's why, despite being a legendary doctor, he didn't care that the growing doses could kill him any day. 😔
What kept him tethered to this gray world were his anchors. The first? A medical mystery-solving game, "inherited" from Sherlock Holmes and Watson. He lived for the tough cases—those adrenaline highs could even drown out the pain for a while. The second? His best friend Wilson, the dean Dr. Cuddy (who gave him a home and some flirty vibes), and his doting mom.
In Cameron's eyes, Adam could be House's newest anchor. For a guy flirting with giving up on the world, more anchors were always a win.
"You really like a guy like House?" Wilson couldn't hold it in anymore. He had to know.
He was too curious. As House's longtime bro, he got that House's messed-up state was par for the course. But Cameron? She'd just joined the team, and she didn't have House's mind-reading knack. How could she see through to House's core so easily? Sure, House had hinted yesterday that Cameron was into broken, shattered types—maybe she had a sixth sense for them. But Wilson couldn't think of any other explanation.
"No…" Cameron shook her head, turning away without much explanation. But her denial didn't sound all that convincing.
Wilson's gaze softened as he looked at her, brimming with sympathy. He had his own quirks—he was a sucker for damsels in distress. A beautiful woman drawn to broken souls? She must have her own rough past. And for women like that, his MO was always "sleep first, respect later." After he'd "comforted" them, he'd dust off his hands and bounce. Every ex-girlfriend or ex-wife gave him rave reviews—never less than four stars. No messy breakups, either. "Friends after the split" fit him like a glove. 😎
Sure, Cameron seemed into his buddy House, but no sweat. He knew House wouldn't mind. Heck, he'd probably love it if House cared enough to get jealous. Emmm. By Cameron's logic, that'd just be another new anchor, right?
As Wilson mentally high-fived himself, Adam pushed the door open with a grin. House limped in behind him.
"So? How'd it go?" Wilson couldn't wait to hear the scoop as House plopped down beside him. Cameron leaned in too, curious.
House didn't answer right away. He fished a yellow pill bottle from his pocket, twisted it open, and shook out a few Vicodin—how many, who knows? He tossed them back like a pro, gulped them down, and tucked the bottle away before turning his eyes to Adam, now stepping up to the podium. "That kid's too damn weird," he muttered.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Wilson grinned, seeing his tough-guy friend soften a bit. "You're both weirdos. Maybe he'll be your new anchor."
House caught the meaning instantly. He shot Cameron a glance—she turned her face away—then fixed Wilson with a knowing smirk. "New anchor? Heh."
New anchor? Please. If he wasn't careful, this kid might end up the only anchor. Everyone else—including the buddy laughing next to him—could get wiped out by this "new anchor" in a heartbeat.
Before Wilson could press him, House shifted his gaze to Adam, now speaking on stage. At first, he'd just found Adam intriguing—a puzzle to poke at, trade barbs with, and have some fun. But then Adam went nuclear, rattling off a string of brutal, actionable revenge plans. All lethal blows.
With his "mind-reading" skills, House could tell Adam wasn't bluffing. One wrong move, and Adam would hit back hard—tit for tat. If it were just him, House wouldn't care. He'd probably enjoy watching Adam's ruthless streak in action, smirking the whole time. But Adam had zeroed in on his few precious anchors, ready to cut them down without hesitation. No matter how arrogant or detached House was, he wasn't about to let his sharp tongue cost the people he cared about dearly.
"Interesting…" Even after being threatened like that, House wasn't mad. Once he dropped the idea of needling Adam with the Chandler thing, he actually felt a flicker of amusement. A brilliant genius, all polite and charming on the outside, but so twisted inside—ready to wipe out anything in his way. That was fascinating. This dull, gray world needed more freaky geniuses like that to shake things up. 🌟
(End of Chapter)