"Okay! Just to be sure, I am going to repeat everything you told me one more time", Arthur articulated, forcing his face to be a mask of politeness he didn't feel.

"So you know your son has pneumonia, correct?"

"Yes doctor, we already told you he has been coughing for the last week or so", the mother,Mrs. Alined replied,clearly exasperated.

"But you won't let me treat him?" Arthur continued.

"What! No!", it was the father this time, Mr. Alined, offended at what Arthur seemed to be insinuating. "He is our son, of course we want him to be treated"

"But not with antibiotics he so clearly needs?", he knew a vein in his temple was throbbing but at least his voice had not risen yet; if anything, it had become a threatening whisper.

"Yes of course", the mother apparently could not see all the warning signs Arthur's demeanor was showing despite his best efforts, "Antibiotics hinder growth. We have done our research, don't think we haven't. My cousin Margret's son Simon was treated with antibiotics when he was our son's age and he was always the midget of our family. He never could gain height poor lad, always made fun of. We don't want our William to go through that."

"Just give him some cough syrup and something for the fever, my boy is strong, he will beat the bacteria himself!",Mr. Alined actually looked at William- who was weak, pale, coughing, and just a step away from collapsing where he was sitting- with pride.

"This Simon, was it? " Arthur waited for them to nod. "He is alive,isn't he?"

"Um, yes?"

"That is more you would be able to say about your son in a few days if you don't let me treat him!"

Arthur's voice was rising without any conscious thought and he didn't even bother correcting his tone, because to hell with being polite to his patients. These weren't his patients. His patient was dying because his parents were too afraid their son might not grow tall enough!

"You have got two choices. One, you agree to the fact that I am going to call the nurses, admit him, and treat him here , away from the two of you, till he gets better. Second, you don't agree to it, I do it anyway, and call child protective services."

After making his point, in the least threatening way that he could manage, he waited for them to make up their mind. He was not going to let the boy die, no matter what his parents decided, but the dumbstruck look of horror on their face let him know that he wasn't as calm as he wished he was.

Hospitals, are generally despised. They are cold, sterile, and the very air in them smell of disease and decay. You don't go inside one if you can help it, and you either don't come out at all, or you come out worse for wear; death is an undeniable reality inside a hospital, and nobody ever likes to be acquainted with the truth... the truth that sooner or later, death is coming for them too. You can pretend to be as immortal and untouchable as you want in life. Inside of a hospital, you are human. Humans are vulnerable. So yeah, everyone usually instinctively hate hospitals.

Not Arthur though.

For Arthur, hospitals meant home. The clean bare walls, the scratchy linen, the antiseptic smell, were the only place he had ever felt he belonged. His father, who was a physician, completely drowned himself in aches and pains of other people after the love of his life passed away, and never looked twice at his son again. Instead, he always brought him to the hospital and let him wander, and for that Arthur would always be grateful. Sick people, and their visitors-he discovered when he was just a child and starving for affection- were sometimes the nicest people around. They always smiled at him, talked to him, even let him climb up on bed and share their food, and looked at him with kindness that nobody else ever did; and when they got better, the happiness of people around them was contagious. Of course they did not always get better, but mostly, even in death, nobody was alone in the hospital. Somehow, even as a child, Arthur found solace in that fact, in not being alone.

Hospitals also gave him his best- and maybe his only- friend in life: Gwaine. When he was seven, he had taken to wandering around the children's ward, trying to make friends. Most of the children didn't like him, because he was always mistook his shyness for pride, but he just did not know how to talk to people. So he would just sit in nurses' corner and stare forlornly at all the parents doting over their children, and feel an empty ache inside his chest that he didn't yet know what to call. Over the years he would learn that it was loneliness, and no, it did not get better with time.

It continued like this for months, until one day, another boy slid beside him.

"Are you a girl?" He had asked.

"No!" Arthur had looked at his clothes in alarm and then his face in the glass in front of the nurses counter. He had not miraculously changed gender in the last few hours. He turned and looked accusingly at the other boy.

"With your hair, I couldn't really tell! Blondie." The kid was laughing at him. Laughing at somebody was not nice, it was something only rude people did, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to hate the boy.

"You are mean."

"No I am Gwaine", he held out his hand, "Nice to meet you! Wanna be friends?"

It was the first time someone had extended a hand of friendship towards him, and as he shook it, he swore he wouldn't let it never did.

So it was no surprise when he grew up to become a doctor. It was even less surprising he chose his specialty as pediatrics. Most days, Arthur loved his job. He loved children. The brightly painted walls of the ward, the cartoons smiling around him, felt more like home than his apartment ever did. Watching children come in, sick, and then leaving with bright smiles and better health felt like the biggest accomplishment there could be. He would never forget the first time he was thanked by parents, of a child with just gastroenteritis, that he had treated: their Thank You, hushed and reverent and full of almost worshipful gratitude, felt like too heavy a burden to carry. He had not been able to reply, his throat closed up and his eyes stung. He had just shaken their hand and nodded. The gratitude, even though always unnecessary-because saving lives was his job- was never unwelcome, never got old, and never failed to fill his heart with warmth.

But then there were days like this one. On days like this one, Arthur HATED his job.

After dealing with the Alineds, Arthur called the nurses and told them to admit the boy, and waited. He knew they would most definitely file a complaint against him- they were that sort, money does not allow anyone to raise their voice against it- and Uther, being the Dean of the hospital, and his father, would call him as soon as he could. He did so love to scream at his son, whatever the reason.

Arthur busied himself in patients, and he had just said goodbye to the third one, when there was a knock on his door.

"Doctor, Doctor Pendragon called for you", the clerk told him.

Steeling himself, he nodded, and got up from his chair. Outside his office, there were still 5 families sitting, waiting their turn. He turned to Freya- the miracle worker, the one who kept his life in line, and made sure he was alive at the end of the day- and told her he would be back soon.

Uther's office, was exactly like any other office in the hospital, if you take away the fact that it was bigger, had a glass wall, and the most expensive-also the least comfortable-furniture in the place. Uther was standing in front of the said glass wall, with his back towards Arthur.

"Sit down", he said, without turning around.

"I still have patients waiting Father, I would rather stand". Defiance was never the right way to deal with Uther, but right now, he didn't care.

"What have I told you about dealing with your patients." Uther turned around, disapproval dripping from your voice.

"To treat them to the best of my abilities?"

"Your abilities won't mean anything, if you never get a patient, because of your... attitude", he made a face like he had swallowed something nasty. "Being a doctor is like any other business, you give your customers what they want."

"What they wanted, was their son to die"

"So then you LET HIM! It's their choice. You explain the consequences, get the form signed stating they are doing it against doctor's advice, and let them have what they want. Treatment, is the patient's choice!"

"They weren't my patients, their child was", Arthur mumbled. Uther ignored it.

"Apologize to them", he said, in a tone that broke no arguments, so Arthur didn't bother voicing any.

"Yes! Doctor Pendragon."

"You can leave now. Be more careful next time".

Arthur left, fuming. He went back to his office, finished his patients for the day. Then went to the ward, did a quick round and checked on his patients. Realizing he couldn't delay it any longer and it was better to just get it over with, he went to the Alineds and apologized. They didn't even care for what he said, their noses held high, haughty and proud, but they wanted to hear s an apology, and they did. Their egos were soothed, which was the fucking point.

When it was finally time for lunch, Arthur couldn't bear to be in hospital any longer, so he left the building instead of heading to the cafe, and took out his phone. Gwaine! The poor dear was always ready to listen to Arthur whining.

"Hello Princess, what atrocities did His Highness Uther Pendragon commit on your person this time." He picked up the phone on second ring. So maybe thinking of Gwaine as a 'poor dear' even inside his head was a mistake.

"Can't I just be having a remarkably wonderful day and not wanting to jinx it, call you, to make the one bad thing to happen today be on my terms?"

"We both know my voice just makes every day better and not worse, and no, it's the Lunch Break Call. With the capital letters. There are casual calls and then there are Lunch Break Calls. So spill"

And Arthur did. He voiced all of this anger and frustration at the unfairness of his father and the stupidity of the parents, while wandering aimlessly on the sidewalk. By the time he was finished he was already feeling better, and it didn't feel like all the blood rushing into his head would cause him a stroke or something.

"I just don't know why such people even bother having kids, when they aren't going to do a damn thing to keep them alive" he knew his voice had lost all the anger and adrenaline. Now he just felt tired.

"Hey Arthur," Gwaine's tone made him pause; he never called him Arthur unless he meant something serious. "The kid will be alright, right? He will live?"

"Yeah he will. Of course. I will make sure of it"

"Then wasn't it worth it?"

"Yeah! Yeah it was." Arthur hadn't thought of it like that, and he could feel a smile creeping up on his face. Screw it! The frustration and the embarrassment and the sheer stupidity of being made to apologize to those asshole parents was totally worth it. His job was saving lives, and he had managed to do so.

"So now quit your whining and go get your coffee". The call cut off before he could reply.

Coffee? What did Gwaine mean!

Oh! He was already almost standing in front of Albion. He didn't even know his feet were taking him there. It was pretty much the best thing that had happened to him all day. Gwen, bless her, would make him coffee and the world would feel right again.

_

A/N: I am a medical student (or more like a very very recently made doctor) if you couldn't tell by how I wrote Arthur. I feel the way he does more often than not. I hope its not boring to read. I tried to not make it seem boring.

Also...sorry for no Merlin in this chapter. He is in the next one. I promise.

I am starting to post this because maybe people reading it would actually make me keep writing, cause I have a plan and I wanna see how it would look in the end but I end up giving up very often.

PLEASE comment.