Epiphany
Epiphany is a sudden perception (moment of understanding) that causes a character to change or act in a certain way. It is a sudden revelation of truth inspired by a seemingly trivial incident.
An illuminating realization or discovery, often resulting in a personal feeling of elation, awe, or wonder.
LEGEND: Italics are flashbacks. And please be guided, that Mikhail Estrada is Hawdon (in reference to Chapter 4).
WEDNESDAYS could mean a lot of different things to different people.
To Gregory House it meant a treasure hunting game (of some sort) in the University of Michigan library during noon with a guy (or a girl) he didn't exert an effort to meet. For him, exchanging letters and clues on a piece of paper in page 134 of Suddarth and Brunner's Medical Surgical Nursing Volume 1 was good enough. Playing this game of "Sherlock Holmes" with the stranger was good enough for him to tolerate. It gave him the rush high that he wanted as he used his excellent thought process with someone equally as talented as him.
On the other hand, to Lisa Cuddy, Wednesdays meant Research day. When she chose a slot to schedule her Fundamentals of Research class, she chose this day and piled up all the other important subjects to all the other remaining school days of the week. She decided early on that she would want the rest of the day rummaging through old medical journals and medical books that could be of help in her Review of Related Literature. On such day, nothing else existed aside from her desire to graduate top of her class and being awarded best researcher of her batch.
It had been Mikhail Estrada's habit to watch all the other people to watch their behavior in the library every Wednesday. He was taking B.S. Philosophy with Psychology as his minor subject during that semester. He had been in and out of the university due to his seasonal lack of motivation. He would try to make a living by being a photographer and painter for a certain time then after he would be able to save the money that he needed he would again enroll himself to his course, then the cycle repeats again. But this year, this year was different.
Like every artist in history, he decided that it was about time that he'd find his new muse. He used to have one since he realized that his artistic side was very active. His first was his American History teacher when he was in sixth grade, then his English Literature professor in high school---all female. They, being educators, had seen the potential there was in him. He had no doubt that without the age barrier; they would have loved him more than a teacher could love their students. He practically believed that there could have been something more if he had not decided that maybe it wasn't just the right time, and they weren't the ones he should be with.
He was a good fiction writer, did sculpting when he was 14 and started painting professionally when he was 17. He could practically make a living by selling a few art pieces every once in a while. His love for photography started only after he entered college. After he had seen the vast choices of beautiful women in the campus, he decided he wanted to have at least a means to remember them. Plus, he found the method of capturing images without the tedious task of mixing colors altogether interesting.
He went up to pick up a book written by Charles Dickens when a woman three tables across his standing point caught his attention.
At the corner of his eyes, he noticed how enticing her short, dark curly hair was as if seducing him. She was wearing a reading glass that gave her a more mature look. She was paying very close attention to a thick medical textbook that she was reading, was trying so hard to ignore everyone else in the library.
With that sight he was not able to stop a twinkle escape his eyes.
HOUSE sat quietly on a bedside chair. Before that, he made sure that there was available blood from the blood bank ready for transfusion for this particular guy. He regulated it to 10 drops per minute when Wilson opened the door.
"Sorry that it took us a while to find where you are," he said, slowly approaching his chair.
"I'm glad you even found me," House said.
Wilson forced a smile. "There's still no sign of Cuddy." He knew what question was playing on his mind that he did not have to voice out the exact question. He knew that it was exactly the reason why he stayed by the bastard's bed side. He wanted to make sure that when he wakes up, he could ask personally where Cuddy is.
House glanced at Wilson for a brief second and said, "How could I have missed it? Tsk, he was right in front of me and I didn't notice." He brought his hand to his forehead and rubbed it gently.
Wilson noticed a gush of blood escape the small cut, "Don't rub it. I'll get some betadine and cotton."
After a while Wilson came back with a kit but House asked him to just patch it with a Band Aid. Wilson knew that the exhausting evening left both of them not in an arguing mood.
"I can't stop thinking about her. I mean, where is she? Who took her? And why is this happening to her? Why now?" Wilson said while House cleansed his own wound. "What really happened down there?"
"I can't remember."
"Well, then let's just hope she'd be okay."
"Yeah, sure." House said, sarcastic.
Wilson shook his head, placed his arms to his waist and looked at him intently.
"I mean it. I meant it when I agreed that let's hope she'll be fine. It just didn't sound right. My tone, I mean."
"What is it that you know that you're not telling anyone?"
"I'm not keeping anything from anyone. I really can't remember."
"So, having a someone take Cuddy in plain sight and her stalker in this hospital bed is just a coincidence? Having two people prey at her at the same time is hardly a coincidence."
"Like I said, I can't remember a thing. You're nagging me. Don't you have better things to do? Like, Operation Finding Cuddy or something?"
"Fine. I'd check on security with their camera shots. I'll page you if something comes up." Wilson shook his head and walked away.
A SMILE spread across her face when a paper airplane landed on her notebook the third time from a guy with an annoying smirk on his face. She glared at the guy.
Mikhail felt his heart beat faster, his respiration getting deeper. He wanted so much to get to her, to approach her, to ask her name, to say how beautiful---Damn He stopped on his way to her.
The twinkle in his eyes rapidly disappeared when the guy with the annoying smirk on his face bent over and quickly kissed the woman in the lips. Her eyeglasses fell to her nose. She tried to protest but only allowed the guy access to her mouth. He deepened the kiss. The other people in the library started to notice the two kissing. The guy then moved away, broke the kiss, waved to the crowd and left saying, "Bye, Cuddy-kins. See 'ya around."
Mikhail crushed the Charles Dickens book in his hand in dread. She can't be in love with another guy, he thought. She should be with him. His spirits were crushed with what he saw.
She should be with him. Not with the other guy.
She belongs with him.
"C'mon, you bastard, wake up. Open your eyes…"
Mikhail heard a voice.
He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't see. A white light was blinding him. He couldn't focus. He couldn't make images out of the light, although he could hear someone talk to him.
"That's it! That's it, open your eyes…"
He still couldn't focus.
"Hawdon… I mean, Mikhail---you bastard…"
He closed his eyes forcefully then tried to open it again, hoping that it was able to help him focus.
"Open your eyes or I'll hit you."
He smiled and opened his eyes. This time, he waited…
"Stay with me."
"Gregory House…" Mikhail finally recognized the voice. Then, a blurry image came after.
"Yes, you son of a---"
"This is what I'll get after a reunion, my friend?"
"We're not friends. Never was."
Mikhail "Hawdon" Estrada chuckled.
"I was never friendly with kangaroos that hop around and prey on women who would never in their wildest imagination voluntarily hop in your baby-k pouch." House said.
"You're very good with insulting people. I'm actually hurt."
"Uh, sorry I made you cry." House said, narrowing his eyes.
"You know the only reason I kept you alive is because I actually thought you could be my friend."
House looked at him disbelievingly and used that face he mastered when insulting unbelievably idiotic clinic patients. "Well, sorry to disappoint you 'coz I thought the only reason you kept me alive was because you CAN'T kill me. I AM A GENIUS and everything, you know. I was always a step ahead of you."
Hawdon smirked and moved to get up from his bed, but then he realized that he was chained to the railings. He then looked at House who was intently looking at his face.
"I hope you didn't mind that I shaved you. I needed to see your incredibly nauseating face to confirm my theory." House tilted his head to his side, still engaged in their battle of words and will.
"You were always the clever one."
House slightly bowed his head, "Thank you."
Hawdon turned away and closed his eyes.
"No. You can't have your beauty rest just yet. I need you to tell me where Cuddy is."
Hawdon opened his eyes. "And what made you think I know?"
"I saved your ass, you chick. I kept you alive so I could ask this question and watch your face as I tell you that if something terrible happened to Cuddy, an incident report would reflect how I overdosed you with Potassium Chloride per intravenous push."
"Huh, you'd be taken away for negligence for that. You think that I'm worth it? Risking your medical license and stuff…I'm flattered."
"And you'd be taken away to hell for good. I will be the one flattered if I sent you to the vengeful welcoming hands of the women you slaughtered."'
"Do that." Hawdon dared.
"Well, it actually is taking a lot of courage from within me to not do it just yet. Tempting, very tempting but like I said earlier, I need to know where Cuddy is."
"I don't know where she is, or where he took her."
House's eyes narrowed skeptically. "He? There's another one of you?"
"Oh, no. I'm one of a kind."
"Then who the hell is he?"
"He's another guy, actually. He took her, but truth is that he's after you."
"So, you're after Cuddy and the other guy is after me? In what freak show are you two on?"
"I tried to protect her. You know that I would protect her, right? I never summed up the courage to touch her. You know that yourself. That on that evening at Michigan, I couldn't take her, I couldn't watch her suffer, and I couldn't hurt her. I don't know why I couldn't. I just couldn't and up until now, I can't."
"So, she's your Achilles heel or whatever."
"She's my muse."
"You're such an erotomaniac." House shook his head.
A weak smile spread across Hawdon's face. "You have no idea for how long I took therapy for that." Then, he allowed it to fade and continued, "You're not sending me to jail."
"Actually I could." House turned his head to the door, pointing to Hawdon the approaching bunch of New Jersey Policemen headed by Wilson.
"I know who he is." Hawdon tried to bait him.
"Tell me."
"If I tell you, would you let me go?"
It was House's turn to weigh the pros and cons of what he was thinking of doing as Wilson approached the room. "I want poof."
"Top floor of Princeton-Plainsboro Human Anatomy Laboratory B overlooking the parking lot... You'd find the rifle and his stuffs there."
"How did you know that?"
"It was my rifle. I left it there; the traitor used my own rifle against me. You let me go, and I will find him. I will kill him and I will bring her back."
Wilson opened the door and watched them talk. The policemen came after. House went up his chair and told the police what Hawdon said on where to find the rifle. The policemen took the radio and passed the message. House bore his weight to his cane to turn away when Hawdon spoke.
"So, you're gonna let me go?"
Wilson watched House's reaction to what Hawdon said and knew instantly that House was deep in his thought considering and reconsidering options, he called his surname in an attempt to break his chain of thoughts before he would get too engaged with it.
House looked at Wilson, slightly grateful and said, "No. I don't think so. I kept you alive that should be enough for you."
"What if I give you a name?"
"Do that," it was House's turn to dare him.
"Joaquin"
"Joaquin who?"
"Joaquin Estevez, gonna let me go now? I know his face."
House gritted his teeth. "I know that face too. And I should be the one to find him and bring her back."
angcatalonan: Hello, everyone. I'm sorry my upload took so long. But hey, it was a long chapter. XD. And my thanks to the people who reviewed the previous chapter, and of course to my ever patient beta, Jen. Thank you so much. And please, get well soon. And I have a gift, Ta-da! A Preview! Yay! It's a sneak peek on the next chap. I hope it wouldn't freak you out too much. Enjoy. And review.
PREVIEW FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER:
Cuddy walked around the room trying to find something she didn't know in particular what. She rummaged through the shelves and looked at the titles when somebody spoke behind her.
"I love to kill people. I love to watch them die. I would shoot them in the head and they would wiggle and squirm all over the place, and then just stop. Or I would cut them with a knife and watch their faces turn real white. I love all that blood. "
When Joaquin spoke behind her, she almost jumped. She turned around quickly as her back pressed on the shelf. She attempted another step back when he took one step closer to her. He smiled and raised both his arms for her to see that it was empty.
"I was quoting the Night Stalker Richard Ramirez. He was guilty of 63 crimes including 13 murders. He was sentenced to 12 death penalties and over 100 years imprisonment."
Cuddy tried to shook the fear away. She looked at him and wondered where the guy that he dated since 2 weeks ago had gone. "Joaquin…"
"The quote was from the book 'The World's Greatest Serial Killers'. A stranger gave it to me. I read a few, but never really understood how their sick pathetic minds worked. Some of them considered murder an artwork. I say, they are an insult to society. They are the wrong breeds of human evolution." He stepped closer and closer to her as she pressed herself deeper to the shelf on the wall hoping that she had gained an ability to pass through walls.
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