Much to Lucas' glee, he would indeed be seeing more of Nathan.
He was recovering nicely, obediently accepting treatment and medication. It often amused him to see the proud Fischer heir sit and nibble quietly at his hospital meals. Everyone knew they were disgusting. Microwaved pieces of cardboard masquerading as actual food. Nathan seemed to mellow down significantly since Lucas had met him. Often he would see the other man being accompanied by a nurse to his I.S. sessions, just as Lucas was heading home.
In the afternoons, Lucas headed back to his own neighbourhood by metro. His roommate would never be home when he was, as he was someone who actually had a more regular day to day schedule. Lucas' apartment building was adjacent to a dingy little business building. It had a Subway, a barber, a few dentist offices and a small convenience store. Lucas frequented the Subway and convenience store the most, picking up daily necessities and the occasional bite to eat. He would buy his things, trudge up seven flights of stairs (his building was so old it didn't have an elevator) and take a shower. In a few hours he would have to return to the hospital for his regular hours of residency; follow Dr Schneider around with the rest of the healthcare team. He liked being on his feet all the time, and he definitely enjoyed working more than being in school. Things were always transient, and exciting.
After hours of afternoon rounds at Hackensack, he would bus back to the bar for his shift.
If the hospital was white, the bar was muddled shades of electric blue, pink, and black.
He had had this job since his med school days, and at first was even the talk on campus. It wasn't often you heard a solemn med school student sharing juicy gossip. After the first year, the novelty had thankfully died down though. He was tired of having to give soulless waves at the male classmates who would drop by just to see if the legend was true. They never tipped either.
Lucas is backstage powdering ridiculous amounts of shimmer onto his shoulders when his hospital-issue pager goes off. Not that irritating thing again. He glanced at the mirror, checking at his eyeliner, before the incessant beeping annoyed him into checking it.
Complex cardiovasc going on in 1 hr. Thought u would like 2 c. -RS
At that, he quickly shoved himself into a pair of sweats and shrugged his sweater and trenchcoat on. Roll call would have to make do without him tonight. Dr Schneider rarely ever informed them of a procedure he deemed interesting or unique enough. He was kind of jaded that way. A tight-lipped, weathered surgeon of fifty-eight years. He let one of the other boys know he was leaving, rushing out into the cold again. The bar had not even opened yet, a few bartenders and table boys trickling in, but he guessed he would have to give tonight a skip. His boss would force him into doing solely weekday nights for months because of this, just to spite him, but so be it.
It's about six in the evening when Lucas comes crashing through the doors of the hospital once again. Nurses shake their head at the sight of him, wide grin tugging at the corners of his face. He's about to stop by Nathan's room and maybe toss him a friendly insult or two when he sees an unfamiliar back facing him. The figure is well-built, and imposing. Nathan and the older man, who Lucas presumes must be the
Mr. Fischer, are talking heatedly. Lucas takes quick steps forward, with all intention to coolly and professionally stop the dispute.
Except, the older man is raising his fist, and before he knows it Lucas finds himself with a split lip and an aching head. This wasn't good, he thought, wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand.
"Mr Fischer. I do believe Nathan is more than old enough to decide his own length of admission", he said, lips stinging with every syllable. He tried his very best to look the picture of confidence and expertise, but he was trembling under the burning glare of the older man. His busted face didn't help.
It's a strange, slightly embarrassing, thing to find yourself being a patient when you are usually on the other end of the stethoscope.
Lucas cringes at the betadine ointment the nurse is dabbing at his face, trying not to whine. Once all cleaned up, he decides he might as well spend his downtime in the hospital as well. He seeks Nathan out for another game of cards. He's quiet ashamed of himself, being unable to handle the incident like he wanted to, but he figures he should face the other man anyway. Say sorry in case he has inadvertently caused more friction between the father and son. Besides, nobody else will play Russian poker with him.