Work Text:
Her shift began, as they always tended to do, by crossing MSH’s doors and praying nobody else had quit.
Not that there remained a lot of people that would quit. Only Ian and her – the ever so loyal Dr. Paige – were clinging to this place for dear life; either too stupid or too sentimental to leave, both of them determined to hang on together until the very end. Dr. Edega, too, of course – though Ada suspected Earth would meet its untimely demise before the man would hang up his boots… well. His clipboard.
Apart from them… There were the Janitor and the Nurse, yes, but Ada was too afraid to picture a future where they weren’t here. Without them, this place would fall into disarray: not even Dr. Edega’s penny-pinching and growing control freakiness would be able to alleviate the loss their departure would bring. So she abstained. She had enough on her plate anyway. And today – a miracle! – their nice skeleton crew accounted for everyone: truly a relief.
Ada sighed as she made her way to the employees’ changing room. All of them, she thought mournfully as she flicked the light on, facing rows upon rows of unused lockers, had once belonged to someone, and all of them had been gutted, were now empty, abandoned to the unescapable greed of time. Old stickers the Janitor had given up on scratching away and the flicking ceiling light their thinning budget couldn’t afford to replace were giving the room the rather sorrowful air of an era that was now long gone: reeking of melancholy and what had been lost, which perhaps explained why Ada disliked lingering here for longer than necessary so much. It was as Dr. Edega was saying, after all: there was no point dwelling on the past when the future was ever so urging you forward. They were doctors. The patients couldn’t afford the time their foolish reveries were taking away from them. They needed help now.
Still. Ada wondered how long until Ian, too, joined the long list of names of those who had… given up. Oh, how she hated that word! It was, however, the only one that was fitting their predicament.
After all… she, too, had sometimes half a mind to ditch everything and disappear forever: during brief moments of hesitation, when the endless shifts had gnawed too much at her growing uncertainty, yes, sometimes, she had the thought. Not the guts, though. Never the guts.
She changed out of her clothes promptly, settling once more into the warm embrace of her medical scrubs and white coat. Both had been carefully folded and put into her locker for her to find: a sweet attention she needed to thank the Janitor for, though she knew he preferred the coffee she was bringing him better than the proper words she never managed to say. The man had a dry personality, hardened by years spent trying to mop away the decay of the hospital’s hallways: to have her, a rookie, barely half his age, try to make conversation… Well.
Let’s just say Ada had learned her lesson the hard way. He had never been outright mean, but his words had a bite, and Ada preferred herself unharmed. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t nice to her, though. Ian liked to say the Janitor had a soft spot for her; Ada rather thought she was better at not getting in his way.
She took a swig of her water bottle, allowing herself the small respite before the start of her shift. Ian… He was playing too much with fire these days. Always working, barely paying attention to the world around him, every time leaving a mess – and so, more work for the Janitor – in his wake. Her friend’s single-minded obsession was worrying her at times; but no matter how much she fretted, it seemed like he liked being burned. She knew she had to reach out before it – whatever it was – was too late, but how? She, too, was burning the candle from both ends: feeling sleep’s claws reluctance to deliver her to the waking world some morning. She hadn’t become a doctor to twiddle her thumbs, that was true, but…
She allowed herself, resting her body against the metal door of her locker, the smallest pause.
But.
Was it so wrong to despair for a break so badly…?
“Dr. Paige.”
The monotone voice snapped her out of her reveries. With a startled yelp she straightened, so quickly pain stabbed at the small of her back. Her water bottle, escaping her grasp, clattered onto the floor.
“Dr. Edega, Sir,” she sputtered above her thundering heartbeat, hand uselessly reaching too late for it. “I…”
… didn’t hear you come in, she never said. The man was as silent as a ghost, yes, but he would have taken offense to the fact had she had the audacity of wording it aloud. His presence commanded respect. That she, right off the bat, hadn’t shown him any, was certainly not winning her any point.
“You’re late to your shift,” Dr. Edega said, sidestepping the slowly spreading spill entirely. Ada winced. Going from bad to worse. “Must I remind you of the criticality of time in our line of work, or should I trust your professionalism enough for it to be unnecessary?”
“No, Sir, it’s… Sorry, I was just…” She lowered her eyes before the mighty clipboard. The puddle had now reached the tip of her shoes and was making a brave attempt at expanding even further. “I… I’m sorry. I will make up for it, stay a bit longer tonight, I swear.”
The man hummed. “Patients that need you now won’t care that you prolong your shift later.”
Still, he sounded pleased. As much as someone like him could be; but Ada, with her accumulated years of residency then employment under her belt, was starting to learn how he ticked. The promise of more work always seemed to lift his spirits up: nowadays, that was the go she always deflected to if she wished to keep the peace. A happy boss was one less problem keeping her up during the night.
“No matter,” Dr. Edega said. “I was merely coming to inform you of a change.” A change… With him, it could mean everything. Ada braced herself as he flipped several pages of his clipboard. On some of them, she spied Ian’s disastrous handwriting, but no word she could decipher and that could inform her of her looming fate. “I’m certain you will be elated to hear we’ve finally managed to hire some help. An intern, to be exact, who signed up for our new Rhythm Doctor initiative. They’re joining the team today, starting this rotation.”
“An… intern?” She could barely believe her ears. Hire? Coming out of Dr. Edega’s mouth? Surely, she was dreaming. People of the hospital fled him like the plague: how the hell had he managed to hire someone?
“Our new rhythm defibrillation system is, according to Ian’s words, now operational. We needed someone to experiment with it, and an unpaid intern we can train from the ground-up seems the best option in this case. At least, our dear,”— here his voice oozed with sarcasm — “board director certainly agrees with the decision.”
He barely shifted, but that was enough: Ada knew, suddenly, that behind the clipboard Dr. Edega's eyes were studying her closely. She didn’t know how, or why: simply that he was, and the weight of his gaze was enough to make her forget to breathe for a second.
“Because the Intern will take up the brunt of the fieldwork doesn’t mean you’re now free to slack off, Dr. Paige. I expect both you and Ian to both swiftly switch your methods to this new initiative of ours. We’re entering a new era of medicine, steamed ahead by innovation and audacity. Now is not the time to hesitate: I need everyone to pull their weight. That includes you. Laziness will not be tolerated. Am I being clear enough?”
Ada was nodding before he had even finished his rant. She was thankful for the hand on her locker holding her upright: the thinly-veiled threat – nobody could make them apart from Dr. Edega’s encouragement, though Ada suspected it rather was because Dr. Edega was not partial to gentle managing – had left her dizzy and light-headed with the implications, almost swaying on her feet.
“Good.” Still: when he relaxed like so – minutely, as if the man’s body itself ignored whether it was allowed rest – he sounded almost… nice. Almost like someone she would be happy to catch a glimpse of in the morning. Someone like Ian. “You’re a valuable employee, Ada. I expect much from you.” And wasn’t that her curse, she thought. “Kindly clean your mess. I will be by later to ascertain the Intern’s progress.”
She mouthed at words she wasn’t certain she could speak: a thousand questions pushed and shoved behind her teeth, clawing at her lips to escape the tight clutch of her jaws. An intern? Who? What’s their name? How? What do you mean, Rhythm Doctor initiative? What do you mean, switching to rhythm defibrillation? What? Does it mean for us? The patients? For me? What—
“Hum, Dr. Edega.”
One foot already out the door, he paused: already showing, in the clench of his shoulders, his growing impatience at her incessant meddling. I’m just doing my job, Ada reassured herself. Just doing the best I can. That’s not a crime. He can’t blame me for that. He shouldn’t—
“Dr. Paige,” he said, short, a warning in his voice.
“Yes, yes, sorry! Hum. This… intern. Where are they? Do they need…” She gestured at herself. “You know. Clothes. A tour of the hospital. … And the likes.”
Dr. Edega turned to her. She caught a glimpse of eye before her view was obscured by the clipboard once more. “Ian is setting them up in the basement, you can join him there. The scrubs won’t be necessary. The tour, too. Do it during your shift.”
“I’m not certain anyone should be working in civilian clothing, Sir.”
“You truly have read nothing of the documentation I passed you, hm?”
Ada cringed. No, she hadn’t; because she hadn’t had the time, nor the want, to read through a one hundred pages essay after having worked an eleven-hour shift. Ian had probably dissected the whole thing from start to finish, but she wasn’t Ian. She couldn’t survive on just coffee and fumes. She needed sleep.
“I suggest you catch up to it quickly, then. It wouldn’t do, now, right? To be left behind by virtue of your own incompetency.” Dr. Edega sighed. “I know Ian had you test the rhythmic defibrillation system. We’re simply taking it a step further. The intern will operate from home. That is all you need to know, and now I suggest you return to work. At haste, Dr. Paige. Our patients don’t have forever.”
He left without giving her an opportunity to hail him: leaving her blinking in his wake, almost stunned at what he’d just said.
The intern will operate from home. Home! What was this nonsense, now?
Yes, Ian had had her test this rhythmic… treatment… thingy, of which she had understood next to nothing: though Ian had been encouraging enough, the simulation had been less lenient, throwing her own ineptitude in her face. A big, fat F, written in a bold white letter that left exactly nothing to the imagination: not her mediocrity, nor Ian’s wince. If she, someone with a direct eye on things, couldn’t do it, how was this… intern supposed to treat the many ailing people pressing at Middlesea Hospital’s doors?
Taking off her glasses, Ada carefully placed them on the nearby bench before passing a hand on her face; giving, in the vacant locker room, a long endless groan. Dear God, what was this hospital becoming? This was not the place that had hired her what seemed like an eternity ago: short-staffed perhaps, but warm and full of laughter that brightened the bad days, and made the good ones better. A working from home intern. And what next, robots strolling around the hallways?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Snatching her glasses back, she squinted at the bright screen.
[08:34] Ian: setting the new guy up & hey do you think 🥚 would pay for better wifi
[08:34] Ian: like if i Ask
[08:34] Ian: how cooked am i LOL
[08:35] Ian: btw theres a samurai in the waiting room (neat)
You’re the least likely to be fired between the two of us, she didn’t say. You’re invaluable, she didn’t reply. You’re revolutionizing the world, and here I stand like an idiot, and I think I'm from an era of old, I think you’ve sealed my fate, Ian.
Instead, she typed: I’m coming. She was Ada Paige, after all, here until the bitter end: and though she held not much hope for the future she could see looming on the horizon… Well, who knew? Maybe the tides would turn in her favor. She had Ian, after all, and people counting on her. She couldn’t disappoint them. She wouldn’t.
(She ignored that all of them took on Dr. Edega's inescapable silhouette; the ever so permanent threat encroaching on the back of her mind. To him, too, she would prove her worth. And if she didn’t…
Best not to think of what would happen if she didn't. To her. To them.
To everyone.)