"Woah, dude, be careful—"
"What the hell? Keep your—" A brief pause. "Chase, what exactly just happened to you?"
Meeting the R&D scientist eye to eye, having just barely missed literally bumping into him after exiting a ward, Tyler made an odd sort of face that said 'do-you-really-want-me-to-explain-this', taking a step backwards at the same time just for safety's sake. Not that he was intimidated by Victor—haha, as if—but currently, the blond doctor's torso was almost entirely soaked in something he didn't particularly relish getting covered in—vomit.
Even blood would've been better, 'cause at least blood wasn't chunky, horrible and prophetic about the last meal you'd eaten. However, everyone at Caduceus had learnt long ago that being a doctor was about as glamorous as a punch to the face and being splashed by such bodily products such as sick was a part of the job you just… got used to.
With a short sigh, Tyler went to shove his hands in his pockets, as was a habit he held when he was talking to people—and then stopped himself, rethinking the decision in light of what was almost certainly on his sleeves, as well.
"Is it a mystery?" He replied dryly, arms akimbo at his sides for lack of a better place to put them. The sight was a little ridiculous, really, and Tyler could tell it was all the other doctor could do to keep a straight f—oh, wait, no—there was that cocky smirk. "A patient is having trouble keeping their food down and I don't think it's because it's casserole day today."
"I see. Reflexes not in the best of shape?"
Tyler rolled his eyes. Was he dripping on the floor? "Look, dude, if you're going to be an ass about it, I'm going to come over there and give you a hug. The tight, feely kind."
"You come near me like that and you're going to be missing something extremely vital to your anatomy, Chase."
"Now I know why you've got all those hot girlfriends. Gotta be the charm, right?" Laughing, the blond shook his head at his colleague, giving up and walking straight past Victor. Next destination: the staff showers. "Catch you later, man."
"Whatever."
--
A few days after the vomit encounter, Victor had been on his very important way back to the R&D department after a page from one of his subordinates re: the latest test findings when, absorbed in his thoughts, he almost missed one of the double doors of a theatre opening and walking straight into Tyler. Again.
A scowl automatically creasing his brow from the temper that came to him so easily, he looked upwards at those idiotic blue eyes.
"Goddamnit Chase, can you please look where the hell you're going for once in your—"
One glance at Tyler told a story Victor didn't see often. That bright light was gone from his irises, his head hung slightly lower, as if suspended by a puppeteer's string, his expression listless and unreadable. That, and judging from the fact he'd just emerged from one of the operating theatres and the front of his light-blue scrubs were stained with what looked like dried blood, something had gone wrong. Needless to say, there wasn't an immediate reply to Victor's comment as the blond struggled to come back down to Earth, only looking upwards a few moments later.
"Christ. What happened this time?" Absently, Victor wished that he'd chosen a different path to the R&D department—he was no good at this sort of emotional crap.
"Complications." Tyler murmured, his voice tired and hoarse, so quiet that the other doctor had to wonder whether it'd been in his head or if his colleague had actually said anything. "Concealed hemorrhaging that wasn't picked up, and…"
"Patients die." The scowl faded from Victor's face slightly, his temper replaced by a greater feeling of discomfort. He wasn't used to seeing this blond idiot act like this. "It happens. You're not a God, after all."
"She… was nine. Amy's age." For once, Victor had nothing to reply with. Because of this, he merely stared at Tyler as he looked away, back to the doors of the theatre. "Think of all the things she'll never get to do. She'll never get to go to school, play with her friends, spend time with her family…"
Oh, fuck. Is this guy going to cry?
The blond's voice grew quieter with each sentence. "Should've done better. Should've seen it coming. Should've…"
However, he was unable to finish his list, cut off by a rather rough and unpracticed embrace from the man standing in front of him, so surprising that Tyler's mouth shut immediately. The most awkward fucking thing in the world, but somehow, it was just what he needed right now.
"Shut up," A voice next to his left ear told him unhappily. "You're not a total moron—I bet you did everything in your power to save her. So quit blaming yourself- it's a fast spiral down to the bottom when you start shit like that."
"I-" Tyler began, his voice giving up before he was given the chance to sound any words. Clearing his throat slightly, he tried again- still quiet, but different from before. "… thanks, dude."
"Tch."
A long pause, while the blond absently wondered if Victor had actually hugged anyone before in his life. This was so, so weird.
"You do realize that there was stuff on my scrubs, right? You'll be messy now, too."
Drawing away all arms and elbows, Victor quickly put that scowl back on his face to make up for the previous gesture of kindness, grey eyes darkened.
"Of course I do." One hand slips into his scrubs pocket to pull out his pager, only to see fifteen new messages from his subordinate—he'd better get going, as hilariously screwed up as this little motivational talk was. "But because I feel benevolent today, I'm going to let you pick which appendage of yours I'm going to take. I want it in writing, on my desk, by Monday."
Dropping the pager back into his pocket, the researcher strode past the blond, only to stop a short way away from him.
"Oh—and no more of this depressive crap, or I'll start editing all of your medical records to say you're a cocaine addict."
Because you're one of the best fuckin' doctors I know, and it's insulting when you put yourself down, you moron.
Leaving Tyler behind him, Victor continued on down the hallway until he reached the exit, pushing it open as he made a bee-line for the research facilities.
It was only until he was alone again that his eyes drifted down to his torso, pristine light-blue scrubs marred haphazardly by dark slashes of crimson and red, all the words to a story that he hoped he'd never have to hear again.