Shaun's fingers twisted nervously in his lap. He tried to pace his breathing, but there was just too much to look at. A silver flash as the light caught someone's watch, a cup full of pens that had fake flowers taped to them, white walls, gray chairs—not to mention the smell of rubbing alcohol and the sound of telephones ringing and turning pages and chattering staff wearing all varieties of colors—
He couldn't do this.
What was he thinking? There was too much to get distracted by in a hospital. But what kind of doctor would Shaun be if he didn't have any hospital experience? How could he learn hands-on care? "Shaun Murphy?" a clear voice rang out. Shaun glanced up and noticed a brown-haired nurse wearing blue scrubs motioning for him to follow her. He rose from his chair, nervously keeping his hands close to his chest. Just like Mrs. Field had told him. No one can tell you're nervous if you look like you're keeping calm. Shaun followed the nurse into a hallway lined with several offices. They came to an open door. She gestured for him to enter. "This is Miss Nelson, the HR manager you spoke to on the phone." Shaun walked into the room and met eyes with a middle-aged woman who had too much hairspray in her hair and a pink blazer with a black dress. She outstretched her hand politely. "Nice to meet you, Shaun." she greeted. Shaun pretended he didn't see the invitation for a handshake and instead took a seat in front of the desk of Miss Nelson. The nurse turned away and closed the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone. Miss Nelson smiled and folded her hands. "So what kind of patient-care experience are you looking for?" she asked.
…
Dr. Glassman slid his second arm into his coat sleeve as he stepped out of the airplane gateway. Ah, Casper. Back to the frigid temperatures that began in about September and didn't leave until June at the earliest. He was finding that it was nice to just come back to visit every now and then as opposed to live full-time in what he referred to as "the American tundra". Before grabbing the handle on his suitcase, he checked his phone one more time. Hm. Still no text from Shaun. Did he remember that tonight was the night of Dr. Glassman's arrival? Shaking his head, he started out towards his terminal to catch the cab he was going to take home from the airport, eager to see Shaun after so long but also a little nervous about what he'd find at home.
He knew that Shaun had been studying very hard and continuing on in taking advanced courses. Shaun didn't accept anything less than perfect grades. Dr. Glassman knew he was probably very stressed, and because of that, he more than likely was not sleeping or eating well. Balancing this work-life-school sort of chaos wasn't easy for anyone—and he didn't expect it to be any better for Shaun. It had been three months since he'd last visited Shaun in Casper—just before this semester had started. He called him, texted him daily, sent a little extra money with encouragement for Shaun to "treat himself" for working so hard. But it wasn't the same as spending time with him. He wanted to be there—he needed to be there for him. He certainly didn't want to carry any more guilt related to his absence in an important young person's life…
By the time Dr. Glassman caught his cab, took the drive home, and approached the front porch, it was nearing 11pm. The cozy little home still looked as if it was frozen in time—also ice, but that was normal for December. Shaun did have the porch light on. A soft warm glow illuminated the windows through the curtains. Dr. Glassman felt himself smiling. He was proud of his boy—he was doing a great job living on his own, managing a place to live. He turned the key in the lock. Upon entering the house, Dr. Glassman was greeted by an acidic smell—much like isopropyl alcohol or witch hazel. No one came to greet him. "Shaun?" he asked aloud. The house was so still, so quiet. Taking off his scarf, he stepped into the living room; instantly it felt like his heart melted in his chest. Shaun was half-slumped on the sofa, a big textbook in his lap, five more open around him and on the coffee table, eyes closed, breathing softly. Dr. Glassman smiled sadly. Shaun did this often—he'd go days and nights with barely any sleep and then all at once it would catch up to him and he would just pass out cold. Setting his hat down on the table and removing his coat, Dr. Glassman glanced at the type of text Shaun had been last studying. Mycobacterium tuberculosis Vectors was the heading he'd highlighted. How could he be comfortable with his neck hanging like that?
Dr. Glassman gently took the heavy textbook off of Shaun's lap and pushed his papers and notebooks to the side. He slipped the calculator out of his limp hand and set it on the table. Dr. Glassman knew both his limits and Shaun's—gone were the days where he could just pick the boy up and carry him to bed. Now Shaun probably wouldn't like that, and neither would that pain in Dr. Glassman's back that reared its head every now and again. So he gently tapped Shaun's hand, causing him to stir and give a little shiver. Wordlessly but with that warm smile, he encouraged the boy to stand up, put an arm around him, and begin to sleepily walk towards his bedroom. Shaun let out a little sigh. "Dr. Glassman…" he murmured in a broken voice. The man rubbed his hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy to see you too." he replied.
Suddenly he glanced down and realized that Shaun wasn't dressed in pajamas—he was instead wearing dark green scrubs. Scrubs? Why on earth did he have scrubs on? "Where'd you get these?" he asked softly, pulling back the blankets on the neatly made bed. Shaun rubbed his eye. "At work." he answered.
"The old folks' home lets you wear scrubs now? I thought you wore a uniform."
"Other work."
"You have another job?"
"I work at the hospital in triage. I help the nurses take vitals."
"…When did you start this?"
A yawn preceeded Shaun's answer. "Eighteen days ago."
"And you just applied on your own and went to an interview and got hired?"
"Yes."
Dr. Glassman smiled again. Wow, Shaun was doing excellent! He was so proud he'd gone out and sought more healthcare experience all on his own. He was really dedicated! Shaun collapsed into his bed and immediately closed his eyes again. Apparently he did not want to even change into pajamas, he was so tired. Dr. Glassman tucked the blanket up close to the boy and gave his hair a gentle rumple. He sat down on the bed. "I'm proud of you." he whispered. Shaun gave a small smile. After a moment of still silence, Dr. Glassman quietly rose to let the boy sleep in peace. But immediately, he felt a hand catch his sleeve. "S-Stay," Shaun's small voice murmured. Dr. Glassman was puzzled—he really wanted him to keep sitting on his bed? He sat back and leaned against the headboard, putting a pillow behind his back for support. Shaun settled a little closer to him. A few seconds passed of Dr. Glassman wondering if this was appropriate and fearing that perhaps Shaun would feel uncomfortable, but his thoughts were dispelled when the boy said, "Thank you…for being proud of me."
Dr. Glassman bit his lip and smiled again. This was why he'd come home. Not just to check on Shaun and make sure he was doing everything right—he was still this boy's caregiver. He needed to be there for him. "You couldn't make me un-proud." he replied with a chuckle. A bit of time went on before Dr. Glassman decided to really make Shaun's day. "I brought you and Christmas present," he told him, "and a Hanukkah gift too." Shaun gave a delighted little sigh. "I steam-sterilized the wood floor and bleached the bathroom kitchen countertops and refrigerator so you wouldn't carry any infections into the house you may have picked up on the plane ride." he proudly reported.
"Is that why this place smelled like an operating room as soon as I walked in?"
"Yes. …I used a strong base on the floor and a strong acid on the countertops to neutralize any bacteria."
"Good thinking."
Dr. Glassman chuckled again. He was glad to be home. His new job at San Jose St. Bonaventure Hospital was great and exciting and fulfilling—however there were things about Casper that he missed. Especially everything he had at home—
Something jumped onto his leg and crawled up his hip.
A furry tail flashed across his face. "What…the hell is that." he asked flatly. Shaun rolled onto his side and put his arm out. "Noodle." he answered. Dr. Glassman looked down. A long-haired brown cat was curling up right between them. "Shaun," he said exasperatedly. "I told you, you can feed the stray cat outside, but it was to never come in the house. Was I clear? Do you remember that?"
"Yes."
"So why the hell is there a cat currently shoving its ass in my face?"
"It was cold outside on night and Noodle didn't have anywhere to go. Noodle gets taken care of by Miss Elizabeth next door but she'd gone to bed and it was late so I let Noodle come inside so he wouldn't freeze."
"Shaun I can't believe you sterilized and cleaned and made this place spotless and yet you let a cat run around here."
"He goes outside all day. I clean in the day. There's always a low risk of infection."
Dr. Glassman put a hand to his forehead and sighed. Shaun was happy. He really was. He had his jobs, his schoolwork, a neat place to live, and a new little friend. He couldn't really be that upset with him, right? He let out another sigh and tussled Shaun's hair again. "You're out of your mind," he said with a chuckle. Shaun snuggled in. "I missed you too." he said softly.