Author's Note: This fic was requested on Tumblr by an anon who wanted to see Arthur as a university doctor. I don't know how long it's going to be just yet because I'm having a great time writing it so far and don't want to stop. We'll see where it goes!

Also, there isn't going to be any USUK in this fic. Those of you who have read my other fics know that I personally don't ship the two, so I just wanted to let everyone know that from the start. The relationship between Arthur and Amelia here is more of a mentor/pupil dynamic because that's how I like to write them, but if you ship USUK, that's cool and more power to you.

With that, enjoy the chapter and please leave a review to let me know what you think!

P.S. Writing female France is my new guilty pleasure.


"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." –Maya Angelou


Amelia has always believed that if you want to get ahead in this world, you have to have one thing above all else—empathy.

Some will say in order to get to the top, you have to be ruthless and push your way past the competition, and while that may be true in some cases, she has found that the best way to get opportunities to come knocking is by being kind and respectful to everyone that comes walking past. It's the little kindnesses that build up over time and can jumpstart one's career. Sometimes, you have to be nice even to the people who would love to see you crash and burn.

When she tells her friends and family that she wants to become a doctor, they all nod their heads and offer her polite smiles of encouragement before they turn their backs and start snickering. Amelia? A doctor? She was an average student in high school at best, and she didn't declare her major as pre-med until her third year of college, so she was already behind the rest of her peers. Though no one will say how they really feel to her face, Amelia knows that everyone expects her to fail. They're convinced she won't ever finish medical school, let alone complete several years of a residency program. They hardly believed she got accepted into medical school in the first place.

And so, when she struts into the health clinic at the university, looking for part-time work, almost all of her fellow classmates laugh and shake their heads once they find out. It's common knowledge that no one applies to volunteer at the school's health clinic unless they're at the top of their class because the physician that works there—Dr. Arthur Kirkland—is known for being the most unapproachable, cold-hearted man on campus, and only the cream of the crop even consider asking if they can help assist him in his work. He has a zero-tolerance policy for idiocy, and there are a number of urban legends and horror stories in constant circulation around the school from students who have worked for him. Apparently, he has made students cry and drop out of pre-med altogether because of how intimidating he can be.

That's not to say he isn't a good doctor. In fact, he's incredible at what he does, and a letter of recommendation from him can essentially secure a student placement into any residency program at any hospital of their choice. The problem lies in getting him to think you're just tolerable enough that he'll be willing to tell an admissions officer you're decent.

But Amelia isn't deterred by any of the rumors or drama. On one fateful Friday, she decides to go into the dreaded health clinic—a place where students go only if they feel as though they are on the verge of death because they don't want to be subjected to being put in the care of Dr. Kirkland, and they aren't willing to go to the hospital.

She holds her head high and strolls right on in, even though her twin sister and best friend, Madeline, tries to stop her. Maddie is a graduate student studying to become an English teacher, but even she has heard the tall tales concerning Dr. Kirkland, and she is genuinely concerned for Amelia's well-being. Although her school is in another part of the city, the girls share an apartment together. Thus, it was virtually impossible for Amelia to keep this a secret from Maddie.

"You can't go in there without sending an email or calling first! What if you don't come out alive? Don't go!" Madeline begs her, chewing nervously on her bottom lip when Amelia shakes off her concerns and gently removes her hand from her shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Maddie. I'm sure he's not as bad as everyone says he is."

"Stop trying to be the hero here. It's not going to work, and you'll just end up disappointed."

"I'm not trying to be a hero. I'm just trying to get a good recommendation letter."

"Yeah, and you really think the infamous Dr. Kirkland, of all people, is going to give one to you? He'll probably tell everyone not to accept you."

"Well, I'll never know until I try, huh?" Amelia says with a wink, cheery-faced and bright-eyed.

"Fine, but when you come back to our apartment tonight, I'm not going to be handing you a box of tissues. I'll just say I told you so."

Amelia rolls her eyes at how dramatic her sister is being and continues on her way while Madeline stands outside the door to the health clinic, pacing back and forth.

The first thing Amelia notices when she walks in is that the place smells like a hospital, and she has to curl her nose up at the strong smell of hand sanitizer. It looks just like an ordinary doctor's office, except maybe it's a bit less cozy and inviting.

Then, she notices the receptionist—a girl who's a few years older than her and has her wavy dirty-blonde hair tied up in a meticulous bun. She looks up from her computer and frowns at Amelia.

"What can I do for you?" the girl asks.

"Hey, I'm a med student, and I was wondering if there were any open spots for a volunteer position or part-time job here in the office."

"Dr. Kirkland doesn't have any available spots at the moment. It may have escaped your notice, but a lot of people are vying to work here. You can send him an email and he'll get back to you," the girl says a bit rudely, and Amelia isn't surprised more people don't come in here for treatment when even the receptionist is unpleasant and sour.

"Right, well, could I talk to Dr. Kirkland myself, then?" Amelia presses on, knowing that she's not going to get anywhere if she lets herself be bossed around by this girl. "Call me old-fashioned, but I'd really rather talk to people in person than over email."

"He's busy."

"I can wait. When will he be available?"

"I don't know."

"You're the receptionist. How can you not know his schedule?"

The girl gets annoyed at the jibe, and she straightens her back and narrows her eyes impressively. "Look, I already told you, he's busy. Do you want me to call security?"

Just then, a door from somewhere down the hall opens, and sure enough, it's Dr. Kirkland himself. From behind him, a student limps out of the exam room and hobbles for the exit with a brief, "Thanks."

Then, Dr. Kirkland comes over to the receptionist's desk, looks Amelia up and down, and asks, "Are you a patient?"

Putting on her best smile, Amelia replies, "No, I'm actually looking for a position—"

"I'm extremely busy this time of year and don't have the will nor the patience to mentor another student at the moment," Dr. Kirkland cuts her off, and the receptionist looks smug as a result.

"If you're busy, then maybe you could use some extra hands?" Amelia suggests, trying to persuade the man to no avail. She's sure she's about to get told no again and possibly get yelled at, but then another student walks through the front door, and their conversation gets interrupted.

This time, it's a young man with doe-eyes and a faraway expression on his face. He looks very pale, and when he opens his mouth to say something, he promptly collapses backward, knocking into one of the chairs in the waiting room. They're all rattled at first, but Dr. Kirkland quickly reaches the student's side and kneels next to him. He tries to rouse the boy by shaking his shoulder carefully, and when his eyes open, he shines a penlight at one pupil and then the next.

Wanting to do something to help, Amelia crouches down on the opposite side of the boy's figure and asks Dr. Kirkland, "Should I bring him some water or juice?"

Absently, Dr. Kirkland shakes his head and takes hold of the boy's wrist, checking his pulse. "Lad, can you hear me? Can you say something?"

The boy groans a little and mumbles, "Yeah, I can hear you. Sorry...I just got dizzy for a second."

Dr. Kirkland presses a stethoscope to his chest, and when he's satisfied, he pulls it away and instructs, "Keep your head bent between your knees for a minute. Is that any better?"

"Yeah."

"Did you come into the office because you were feeling lightheaded?"

"No, I came because I've been throwing up for the past two days," the young man says with another groan, clutching his stomach.

Dr. Kirkland has him lie back again and presses a hand to his stomach. "Does it hurt when I do that?"

"Not really...Just sore."

"Have you been taking any medication?"

"No."

"Been drinking? You don't have to lie to me. I have no interest in reporting it."

"Not since last week."

Dr. Kirkland nods and runs his fingers over the back of the young man's head, checking for any welts from when he hit the chair, and as he's doing so, the student rolls over on his side and vomits on the floor.

"All right, then," Dr. Kirkland murmurs, patting the young man's back firmly. He turns to his receptionist and says, "Bring me a blood pressure cuff and a thermometer."

Except the receptionist is looking a little green around the gills herself at the sight, and she isn't able to move from her spot. So, Amelia raises her eyes and meets Dr. Kirkland's gaze before saying, "I'll bring them."

She stands up and hurries off to one of the exam rooms, assuming there must be supplies in there. She snags the blood pressure cuff from a little basket hanging on the wall, searches the drawer for a thermometer and finds it along with a box of disposable covers, and rushes back to the scene, handing over the supplies to Dr. Kirkland.

He takes the thermometer, slides one of the plastic covers onto it, and sticks it under the young man's tongue. As the reading is registering, he wraps the blood pressure cuff around the boy's upper arm and secures it with the Velcro strap before inflating the cuff and deflating it again.

The thermometer beeps, and Dr. Kirkland takes it back along with the blood pressure cuff. "You have a high fever and your blood pressure is low," he tells the young man as he takes out his penlight again. "Open your mouth...You're also quite dehydrated. I'm going to have you taken to the hospital to receive some IV fluids, all right? You should feel much better afterward."

The young man makes a noise of complaint, but Dr. Kirkland is already on the phone, arranging for help. In the meantime, Amelia sits by the student and tells him it's going to be fine—he'll likely be discharged by the end of the day if all goes well.

"Do you have a friend that can look after you when you get out of the hospital?" Amelia asks him gently, helping him sit up.

"Yeah, my roommate."

"Okay, want me to text him for you and explain what happened?"

"Would you?"

"Of course, no problem!" Amelia assures. "And your parents?"

"I'll tell 'em later. They'll freak out if I tell 'em now."

"Gotcha."

She gets the number to the student's roommate and puts it into her phone before hastily typing up a message, just as promised. When the text is sent, she makes some more calming small talk with the young man until Dr. Kirkland asks him if he can stand and helps walk him to the ambulance waiting outside. Amelia follows them, now emotionally invested in making sure the boy is put into good hands.

When the ambulance leaves, she lets out a sigh and is left feeling a little empty and worried.

"Thank you."

She snaps her head around to look at Dr. Kirkland and frowns. Did he just thank her? She's pretty sure this man hasn't thanked anyone in his entire life.

"Uhh, sure thing…Well, I guess I'll be on my way now. I'll let one of the custodians know about the vomit in the office," she offers before raising a hand to wave goodbye. She turns around and starts the long walk across campus back to her and Maddie's apartment when suddenly, she feels a hand on her shoulder stop her.

"Wait…You said you were looking for part-time work?"

Whoa. Is this really happening? She didn't really expect to get a job at the health clinic. She just did it on a whim to find out for herself if the rumors about Dr. Kirkland were true. "Yeah, something to do on the weekends and in between my classes, you know…"

"You're a medical student?"

"Yup."

"Do you have your resume on you?"

She quickly reaches into the backpack hanging off her shoulder and pulls out a hot pink folder before holding it out to Dr. Kirkland. "Right here."

Dr. Kirkland takes the blindingly bright folder, pulls out the paper inside, and scans it with sharp eyes. Meanwhile, Amelia rocks back and forth on her heels, heart racing at over a hundred beats per minute. If she doesn't calm her nerves, she'll be the next one to collapse.

"I've never had anyone with a GPA lower than a 3.8 approach me."

Well, there goes her chance…

He peers over at her again for a long moment, as if debating something in his head, and at last says, "Very well, Ms. Amelia Jones. You can have a position at the health clinic if you agree to a few conditions. You must be punctual, you mustn't give me any additional work, and you must be willing to learn. Otherwise, you cannot work for me, is that clear?"

Swallowing down her nerves, she gives him a shaky grin and says, "Crystal clear."

He hands the folder with her resume back to her and smooths out his tie. "Good, I'll hold you to your word. Send me an email with your hours of availability. You can start next week."

Then, he briskly saunters off, and Amelia is left to stand, half-mortified, half-amazed, at his retreating form. Did that really just happen? Did she really just get a job from Doctor Freaking Arthur Kirkland that she can put on her resume and use to propel her into a kickass teaching hospital?

No point in getting too excited yet. Now comes the hard part—getting on the man's good side, if he has one.

She goes back home and tells the story to Madeline, who squeals with delight and makes a gigantic stack of blueberry pancakes drowned in maple syrup for them to devour in celebration.

"It's meant to be," Maddie insists, barely containing her excitement. "Just think, if that student hadn't fainted, you wouldn't have gotten the spot. If that's not fate, I don't know what is."

Amelia chomps on a pancake and shrugs her shoulders as she washes the bite down with chocolate milk. "We'll see. He could still decide to fire me, you know."

"No, he won't. Not when he sees how great you are with the students."

Maddie is probably the only person in this world who truly believes in her.

"Thanks, sis, but I don't think he has a high opinion of anyone, much less of me."


She starts on Monday, right after her morning biochemistry lecture. Her shift is only four hours long, which isn't bad or grueling by any means. It's fifteen bucks an hour, but she's more interested in the experience than the money anyway. After all, it's pretty much a given that she'll learn more from working here than she ever will in a class or from reading a textbook. Although she's already had a few clinical rotations, this'll be more hands-on, surely.

The unfriendly receptionist's name is Francine, and though she is snobbish and bitter and everything Amelia hopes she will never become, she is forced to put her differences aside and work together with her. Would it kill her to be a little more compassionate? All she ever seems to want to do is argue, which is weird because she is sickeningly sweet to all of the other students who cross her path. It seems the only person she can't stand is Amelia.

And Amelia swears she hasn't done anything mean-spirited to her. In fact, she even offered to buy the girl some coffee at one point, only to be flat-out rejected and given a sneer of contempt.

Whatever…You can't be friends with everyone, Amelia supposes.

Her first day is fairly standard. Francine is forced to give her a tour, Dr. Kirkland explains a few basics as to what her duties will be, and then Francine demonstrates how to use their computer system. Her Monday and Tuesday are spent handling paperwork and other menial tasks while Francine gets to shadow Dr. Kirkland and help him out in the exam rooms. It's then that Amelia realizes she's going to have to prove herself before she can get to interact with the patients.

But on the bright side, since Francine is already in her fourth year of medical school and is going to be at a residency program by next semester, her office hours are shorter than Amelia's. The girl usually has other things to do and seems to have at least somewhat of a social life, which is surprising considering medical school usually forces one to give all of that up.

Though Amelia is in the office every weekday except for Thursdays, Francine is only there Mondays and Tuesdays—a blessing, truth be told.

She also discovers that on the days Dr. Kirkland isn't in the office (Wednesday, Thursday, and every other weekend because he's at the hospital those days), another M.D., Gilbert Beilschmidt, is in charge, and he's just about the sweetest and funniest soul Amelia has ever met, even though he has an enormous ego and his banter knows no bounds.

This means when Wednesday comes around, it's just her, Dr. Beilschmidt, and two nursing students named Feliks and Toris, who work on the days when Francine is out. Feliks brings an exuberant air with him everywhere he goes, and Toris is a mousy, bashful boy who seems to be quite close to Feliks and is deathly afraid of Dr. Kirkland (but honestly, who isn't?).

When Amelia first introduces herself to the three of them, Dr. Beilschmidt shoots her a sparkly grin and says, "Congrats on getting past Kirkland, kiddo. We have a deal that I get to pick the nursing kids and he gets the med school kids. Even though I'm convinced nursing students are way cooler and more fun than your crew, I'm willing to give you a chance to prove me wrong."

She warms up to the quirky trio almost immediately, and it's such a breath of fresh air to know she'll get to work with Feliks and Toris whenever Francine isn't around.

Dr. Beilschmidt has a strict no-sitting-at-the-computer-for-more-than-two-hour-intervals policy, so Amelia finally gets the chance to follow around a real doctor and isn't subjected to just organizing files. He lets her watch him draw blood, give vaccines, and do physicals. The whole time, Amelia takes as many notes as possible, and when the office isn't busy, she gets the privilege of hearing Dr. Beilschmidt tell her stories from his own wild days in med school. Apparently, he was so nervous during his first clinical rotation that he blacked out while taking someone's blood pressure.

On Friday, Dr. Kirkland is back, and working for him turns out to be easier and more fun when Feliks and Toris are near. Oddly enough, Dr. Kirkland seems to at least somewhat enjoy their presence as well because he's not nearly as stern in front of them.

Feliks even calls him "Dr. K," and though the man doesn't seem to like the nickname, he tolerates it. Toris, meanwhile, hides behind the computer and acts ten times more sheepish than he usually does.

"Feliks, could you dress a wound in exam room one? Call me when you're done."

"I'm on it, Dr. K."

Feliks hurries off, and Amelia tries to look busy at the front desk, sorting through piles and piles of paperwork that she's honestly bored to tears by.

"Amelia?" Dr. Kirkland asks, suddenly approaching her.

She jumps out of her seat and mentally berates herself for being so skittish. "Yes?"

"Follow me. I want you to try taking a patient's history."

She takes in a deep breath through her nose, gets up, and obediently follows Dr. Kirkland down the hall and into the third exam room, mouth dry and tongue feeling like cotton. Well, she did want him to get her away from that darned desk, so this is what she gets.

He holds open the door for her, and she steps inside, ahead of him.

"Hi, there! I'm Amelia, a medical student," she greets the patient as soon as she walks in, not needing to be prompted.

The boy on the exam table this time is an undergraduate freshman, and the reason Amelia can tell is that he has a perpetually anxious look on his face. He hasn't settled into his environment yet. That, and his date of birth is in the chart Dr. Kirkland passes to her.

She glances at Dr. Kirkland to make sure it's okay for her to continue, and when he doesn't say anything, she skims through the chart more thoroughly and says, "Okay…It's Eduard, right? You're having chest tightness and it says here that you have asthma."

Eduard nods and lets out a small cough as Dr. Kirkland shuffles around through some cabinets and starts setting up a nebulizer in the background.

"When were you diagnosed with asthma?" she asks.

"When I was six."

"And how often do you use your inhaler?"

"About once a week."

Amelia frowns and takes some notes, adding a line that reads, "asthma not well-controlled." She then underlines it and goes on with her questioning. "Are you on a maintenance drug?"

"No."

"Do you take any other medication?"

"No."

She makes note of that as well. "Any other health problems besides asthma?"

"No."

"Did you use your inhaler today?"

"Yeah."

"And it didn't help?"

"No, that's why I'm here," Eduard says, letting out a wheeze.

"Do you smoke?"

"No, I'm not stupid."

Amelia flinches but keeps her smile intact. "Sorry, I have to ask. Do you know what might have triggered your asthma today?"

"I was jogging this morning."

At that, Dr. Kirkland pauses the interview to slide a mask over Eduard's nose and mouth. There's already a dose of liquid albuterol attached to the mouthpiece of the mask, and a second later, Dr. Kirkland flips on the switch of the machine and it rumbles to life, turning the medicine into a vapor that fills the mask and makes it steam up.

"Take slow, deep breaths," he instructs the boy. "Amelia will stay with you until I return in fifteen minutes."

Amelia nods at both of them and watches Eduard's chest rise and fall. Already, he seems to be breathing a little easier. Dr. Kirkland takes that as his cue to leave and shuts the door behind him with a click.

She has fifteen minutes to kill, and so, maybe a little conversation wouldn't hurt, even though she'll be the one doing most of the talking.

"He's not so bad, huh? Anyone who has to care for other people for a living can't be too mean, can they?" she asks playfully, not expecting an answer. "I bet I could get him to lighten up a bit with enough time. Just gotta make sure I don't get fired in the process, you know?"

Eduard scoffs and although his voice is muffled by his mask, she can hear him say, "Good luck."

"Thanks. Feeling any better?"

He nods.

"Good. I'm sure Dr. Kirkland will tell you this if he hasn't already, but you should take it easy on the jogging until your asthma is better controlled."

"He already told me."

Amelia smiles a new smile. "Of course he did. He'll probably want you to take a PFT after the treatment is done—Pulmonary Function Test, that is. I haven't learned how to read those yet though, so I won't be able to help you there."

After a few more minutes, the albuterol is nearly gone, and Dr. Kirkland sweeps back into the room to shut off the nebulizer and take the mask off of Eduard's face. Then, he puts his stethoscope on his back and asks, "How are you feeling? Any tightness still?"

Eduard takes in a deep breath and shakes his head. "It's a lot better."

"Take another deep breath…Sounds better."

"So, I can leave?"

"Not just yet. When was your last pulmonary function test?"

"I don't remember."

"In that case, I want you to have one done now," Dr. Kirkland decides, confirming Amelia's suspicions. He opens the door to the exam room again and calls out into the brightly lit hallway, "Feliks, PFT in room three!"

He turns back around, looks sharply at Amelia, and adds, "Go and observe so you can know how it's done."

A moment later, Feliks peeks his head in and says to the patient, "Why, hello there! Follow me!"

Amelia waits for Eduard to leave the room first and then trails after him, shoulders relaxed now that Dr. Kirkland isn't scrutinizing her. They go into a separate room directly across the hall, which is where they keep samples of medication and extra supplies. It's also where flu shots and other vaccines are stored, and apparently, there's been a computer along with everything needed to conduct a PFT here as well. How did she not notice that before?

"All right, first, you type in the patient's name, weight, and height," Feliks begins to explain to her, fingers tapping away at the keyboard. "Then, like, once everything is set up in the system, you click this button in the upper left-hand corner and give Eduard a sterile mouthpiece for the spirometer. I repeat, sterile. These things are disposable, got it?"

"Yup. Understood."

"Eduard, you're gonna hold the mouthpiece away from your face at first. You'll take in as big of a breath as you can, and then you put your lips on the mouthpiece and exhale for as long as you can, 'kay? Then, you take a second breath while you've still got the mouthpiece. Make sense?"

"Not really," Eduard replies, blushing and confused.

"It'll make more sense when you actually do it," Feliks promises before guiding Eduard through the test twice. Then, he saves the results on the computer, prints them out, and tells Amelia, "Hand this to Dr. K. And Eduard, you can come with me back to the exam room, buddy. Dr. K will read the results and get back to you in a few minutes."

Amelia grabs the PFT results, places them on top of Eduard's file, and finds Dr. Kirkland in his office at the end of the hall. He's typing something, and so, she leaves everything on his desk and heads out, figuring it'd probably be best not to make any remarks and distract him, but before she reaches the doorway, he raises a hand and beckons for her to come back, barely looking away from his screen.

She holds her breath and tries to keep her cool, but it isn't easy.

Dr. Kirkland finally regards her and says, "You failed to ask several key questions."

Oh, God, is she fired already?

"As a rule of thumb while you're still learning, remember SOCRATES—Site, Onset, Character, Radiation, Associations, Time Course, Exacerbating or relieving factors, and Severity…Why aren't you writing this down?"

She pulls herself out of her shock and takes the notebook out of her back pocket, hands jittering. "Sorry."

"You should have asked when the asthma attack started, where specifically the tightness in his chest was, and when the last attack occurred."

"Right," she agrees a tad too quickly, revealing how flustered she is. "I'll remember for next time."

If there is a next time.

Dr. Kirkland nods and doesn't say anything else, and Amelia supposes that means she should clear off before this encounter gets even more awkward. She's tempted to run out of his office but keeps her cool just long enough to walk away at a socially acceptable pace.

That night, when she goes home and Madeline asks her how work went, she lies down in bed and covers her head with a blanket. So, this is what it's like to be in a work environment where your boss hates you. It's not a feeling she enjoys, surprisingly enough, and while she knows she's being dramatic, she also knows she can't afford to make any mistakes, no matter how minuscule they are.

"Bad day?" Madeline ventures to ask.

"Ughhh..."

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it. Wanna watch T.V. with me?"

She uncovers her head and nods miserably before reaching for the remote. How is she going to be a doctor if she can't even stomach the scrutiny of her superiors? It's only going to get tougher from this point on.

Madeline lets her lean on her shoulder, and just for a moment, a giant weight gets lifted off of her, granting her momentary peace. What she needs now more than anything is sleep.

Her world can finish falling apart tomorrow.