West Heaven Grand Hotel.
The expert brainstorming session? Total success.
Dr. House, especially, sparked a ton of ideas for Adam.
After the party wrapped up, Adam didn't jump straight into new cases. Instead, he spent the next few days testing out the inspiration he'd gotten—tweaking viruses, designing surgeries, that kind of thing. Of course, he didn't slack on his top priority: saving lives and extending his own lifespan every day. 😎 But honestly, that wasn't the biggest deal during this stretch.
The real MVP? Little Adam.
Yup!
Monica's due date had arrived, and she'd already settled into the VIP room Adam had hooked her up with. She wasn't like Rachel, who had a solid foundation to lean on. Monica took this whole baby thing way more seriously than laid-back Rachel ever could. So, everything was prepped with a "better safe than sorry" vibe.
"Dr. Montgomery, gonna need your help again," Adam said, naturally turning to the neonatal department's rockstar chief.
"How's it feel?" Dr. Montgomery teased. "All your friends are popping out kids, becoming moms and dads. When are you gonna call me up for yourself?"
"I'm happy for them," Adam grinned. "As for me asking you for help? Oh, it'll happen someday. Just don't retire before then, and I'll definitely come knocking!"
"…"
Dr. Montgomery's face darkened. "Are you poking fun at yourself here—or me?"
"Myself, totally myself!" Adam rushed to clarify, laughing. "Just joking! My marriage-and-kids timeline's still way off in the distance."
"Hmph!" Dr. Montgomery's expression stayed sour. "Really? I've got at least twenty-something years before I retire. You're what, 26 now? You're telling me you're waiting till your 50s to settle down and have kids?"
"Hey, lifespans keep getting longer!" Adam chuckled. "By then, 50's basically the new young adult. Sounds pretty great, right?"
"For you guys, sure," Dr. Montgomery nodded. "But what about the women? The ones you're with now—who's gonna wait twenty-plus years? You really planning to pull a Chief Richard move?"
Chief Richard, the surgical director, was over 50 and still popping out kids. But his wife? High-risk pregnancy territory—dangerous, with a chance of miscarriage if they weren't careful. Men could wait forever; women, not so much.
"They're in great shape. If they want to, it's no problem," Adam said with a confident smile.
"They?" Dr. Montgomery shot him a sideways glare, dripping with disdain. "Oh, I get it. You don't even need to repeat Richard's story. You'll just find some fresh face to have your kids later, huh? Player!" 😒
"No, no, that's not—"
Adam started to explain, but the words caught in his throat.
How could he explain?
Say that as long as he wanted, they'd stay 18 forever?
If he blurted that out, this woman would probably tackle him on the spot.
It'd be wilder than that lucky guy who slept with someone and magically helped women find true love—like some built-in matchmaker superpower.
For women, happiness is relative.
Eternal youth? That's absolute.
Emmm.
Talk about one bird in hand being worth ten in the bush!
That lucky dude got scammed by an old classmate with a wild twist, then took on an 800-pound Sailor Moon.
Adam? Yeah, he'd pass on any version of that drama.
Bidding farewell to a very judgy Dr. Montgomery, Adam swung by Monica's VIP room to check on her, gave the nurses a few instructions, and headed off to the wards.
Ortho chief resident Callie had picked up a super rare case, and no way was Adam missing out.
"FOP? You sure?"
The second Adam arrived, he heard Cristina's uncontainable excitement. "Oh my God, fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva?! We actually landed a case like this?"
"Seriously, FOP?"
Adam stepped over, unable to resist confirming it himself.
"Yup," Callie grinned. "First time in my life—and probably the only time I'll ever see it. So, heads-up, everyone: when we go in, don't freak out or stare at the patient like a zoo exhibit, okay?"
"Got it," Adam nodded, buzzing with curiosity about the case.
FOP—fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva—is this insane genetic condition where muscles turn into bone.
AKA, the patient slowly ossifies until they're basically a human statue.
Inside the room:
"If you're interns, stay the hell back!" the patient's daughter snapped the moment they walked in.
"Lina, don't be rude," a middle-aged woman said. She was being lifted onto the bed by three orderlies, completely immobile—like a talking statue.
"My mom's face and hands can still move," Lina said, holding back her anger. "I don't want her getting worse. So please, be careful. If you press too hard or bump her during the exam, it'll trigger more bone growth.
It's happened before.
I'm not singling anyone out here!
But I'm not letting some clumsy intern near her!"
"Fair enough," Cristina waved her interns back with a grin. "We're the best residents around. You can relax."
"It's just gastroenteritis—or maybe a cold," the patient said helplessly. "But Lina insisted I come to the hospital."
"She's vomiting blood and eating painkillers like candy," Lina cut in.
"Dr. Duncan, you're up," Callie said, noticing Lina eyeballing everyone. She turned to Lina. "Dr. Duncan's our top resident. His control's unreal—he won't hurt your mom, I promise."
"Okay!"
Lina glanced at Adam, her guard dropping a bit. "I know him! He was on TV that one time—super impressive."
Adam gave her a friendly nod and stepped forward. Gently lifting the patient's clothes, he examined her with extreme care. "Your FOP's flared up again. I'm worried about the vomiting—it might be internal bleeding. We'll need a CT scan to confirm."
"Internal bleeding?" Lina gasped. "How'd that happen?"
"You said she's been popping painkillers like candy?" Adam pointed out. "That could've damaged her organs and caused the bleeding."
"Mom!" Lina shot her a mix of worry and blame.
"Doctor, if it's internal bleeding, what happens?" the patient asked with a faint smile. "I can't exactly have surgery like this, right? And if I don't, will it hurt a lot?"
"Yeah," Adam nodded. "Surgery would trigger more bone growth—more harm than good. Let's do the CT scan first and figure it out from there."
Everyone caught the subtext.
She didn't want to keep going.
And honestly, they got it. Living with this disease? It's a fate worse than death.
Unable to move—what's that even like?
Maybe just a step above being buried alive, with a sliver of light and breath to cling to.
The only thing holding her here, keeping her from letting go, was her daughter's refusal to say goodbye.
Not everyone's Hawking, trapped in a shell but still soaring through the cosmos, exploring timelines, living a wild, boundless life.
(Chapter End)