Summary: There is one last lesson you need to learn and, clearly, it won't be a fun one. (4-1 to 4-4 rewrite).
Dr Kasal is the father you've never had.
Not that you didn't love your father, back when he was alive. You loved him, in fact, more than Mom and more than almost everyone. He read comics to you when you couldn't read yet and let you borrow some when you finally learnt how to.
You loved him so much that you still get miserable when you remember he's never called you by your name. Only pretences and nicknames. You'd rather remember the silly pet names, the "honeys" and the "darlings". They carry the conflicting taste of a sweet exterior and bitter insides, they make you sick if you indulge in them too much; until one day you puked it all out and since then you've tried not to eat them anymore.
But Dr Kasal has never called you by anything other than the right name. He's always respected you in all regards as soon as he laid his eyes on you and decided you were worthy of his mentorship. He's put a hand on your shoulder when you did good and encouraged you despite all the hardships of the job. He may have been strict, but some father figures are strict and that's what makes them such great people to learn from and under. He's no exception.
He's a caring man too, under the stern appearance. Remember the time you collapsed after using your Touch on purpose for the first time? He was there to monitor on you, according to Angie's truthful words. He assigned himself to your case when you wouldn't wake up. He told you not to use the Healing Touch for your own safety. He can't even know how much esteem you have for him…
Needless to say, something in your heart breaks when you learn from Director Miller in the middle of Africa that Dr Kasal has gotten infected with GUILT. Angie's bruised forearm is a testament to just how nervous you suddenly gets as you drag the both of you to the nearest flight to the USA.
You hear it all.
The weak words of your mentor clutching the left part of his abdomen telling you as casually as possible that he had known something was wrong.
Keep working hard, Derek.
The trembling voice of the titanium-willed Sidney Kasal as he put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hide his tears.
…Derek? Greg is my brother. Please remember that.
The snaps of frustration directed your way of the iron-witted Dr Myers in a rare moment of vulnerability, upset at you, upset at Delphi, upset at the world.
Stay calm?! How can you say that when your mentor is dying in there?! If… if you hadn't been gone…!
You want to cry every time, break down and show how worried and upset you are too; but you don't allow yourself to do so because you're one of the few people capable to save him, so you bottle everything and plan on crying when you'd be home alone.
You work hard to find the cure. You run around the city without taking a break, prompting Angie to often ask you if you don't need one. You always reply to her with a not-so-honest smile that you're capable of doing three or four surgeries in a row despite your nerves knotting with each passing minute. You get restless because you can't force yourself to stay put for a minute without worry biting into your flesh.
Having to entrust Victor with everything wrecks your nerves just as much as it does Cybil's. You may only spend one or two nights while he burns his sleep away in an attempt to find a serum to stop the infection; it doesn't mean you're getting a lot more rest than he does. You can't get much sleep – and that's despite your best efforts at following Nurse Fulton's "a surgeon has to sleep at least six hours" mantra – not you're your quickened pulse makes you nauseous and nightmares of losing a second father figure to the plague haunt your body.
When the serum finally comes in, a collective sigh of relief erupts in the room. Sidney is tenser than he's been so far, immediately ordering the serum to be administrated and assigning Dr Clarks to his brother, with you as an assistant.
Director, I don't think I can operate on Dr Kasal, you told him with all the honesty in the world yesterday.
And yet, your heart skips a bit when the two-on-one pre-surgery conversation takes place in your mentor's hospital room, the monitors beeping along.
"Derek, you're going to be operating on Dr Kasal," Dr Clarks tells you without an ounce of irony, sarcasm or mockery. He's as serious and professional as ever while you're trying your best not to fall apart.
"Huh? But I thought you were scheduled for that procedure…" You try arguing back in a stutter.
"I asked him to switch with you, Derek…"
The even weaker voice of your mentor catches your attention, the grip on his abdomen having lost in strength and his skin matching the immaculate bedsheets. It takes even more of your resolution not to show at least some guilt at seeing him that way.
"Why?" You ask from the bottom of your heart, the lump in your throat almost obscuring your airways. "Dr Clarks is an experienced surgeon… I… I'm just a…"
Dr Kasal throws his head back a little in his pillow, Stephen's watchful eye not letting up.
"I know that you told my brother you couldn't operate on me…" Well, you sure did that, haven't you? "I'd like to know why not"
You're a coward, aren't you? That's the reason, right? You're a coward who can't even face his own feelings straight-on.
"Well... What if I did something wrong…? I mean… you'd—"
"Are you worried I won't make it?"
To your surprise, he's staring right at you with a pained, distorted smile, panting; and yet his eyes are full of life, shining with fire and a will to live unlike any you've seen in your short career.
"Of… Of course not! You're going to—"
He interrupts you again.
"Then make it happen."
He sighs, perhaps realizing it's a terrible idea to entrust you with his life.
"…It looks like I forgot to teach you a very important lesson. You've developed your skills, but something's still holding you back. Sometimes, a doctor needs to ignore his personal relationships."
"…Huh?" You don't quite get where he's going with this.
"A friendship should have no bearing on your surgical ability. Once someone is in the operation room, they're your patient and nothing else. You're their doctor, so you save them. That's all there is to it."
"But…" Your bottled-up fears break away from their glass cage and spill out from your mouth. "I'm still human, I…"
"This is especially important because you have the Healing Touch." He winces in pain, his fingers clutching the fabric of his gown. "I won't let you end up like Robert…"
"…Dr Hoffman?" You still ask when, really, you shouldn't be dragging this conversation more than necessary. Time isn't exactly on your side.
"I'll explain it when the time comes. But… for now… You just need to focus, Dr Stiles. I know you can do this." Your heart warms suddenly upon hearing these few words, even in such a dire context. "Think of it as a trial… The final test before you can call yourself a doctor and really mean it."
"Dr Kasal…"
Your words have left you. On top of the sickening concern now roars the pressure and the expectations you have to live up to. Still, he's right: it is your job to reassure patients. Angie used to scold you a lot about that, what would she say if she heard you all trembling and shaking like this? You need to seem bolder, braver. You don't want to scare such a figure, don't you?
"Well, Doctor…" His men… His patient's voice is now barely louder than a pained whisper. "Can I be cured?"
"Yes, I anticipate a full recovery after the procedure."
"Who's going to be operating?"
"I…" You still sound hesitant despite your best efforts at looking like you're trusting yourself with such a task. "I will."
"You don't sound very confident."
"…You can trust me. You're in good hands, Mr Kasal."
It hurts you to call him this way, but it has to be done. You need to prove both to him and to yourself that you're a true surgeon worth the name and the "doctor" moniker.
"…That's the spirit, Derek." He smirks, almost in comfort. "Remember, I believe in you."
"Yes sir."
Calming yourself down is an impossible task by the time you reach the pre-operation conference room. You look over the patient's profile, focusing on Dr Clarks's explanations instead, which he ends on a solemn note that doesn't fail to shake you one last time: …Dr Kasal is a fine surgeon. You trained under him, and now you have to save his life… Do your best, Derek…
You know what you're getting into and there is no turning back now. You're going to save your mentor and that's it. You may be scared, but as Cybil would say, it's your job and the weight on your shoulders shouldn't be too much for you to bear. You will succeed.
When you enter the operation room proper, your nervousness almost gets the best of you, but you don't back down, not when the situation calls for you and you've been specially designed to the task. Your hands are unsteady at first, picking the antibiotic gel with hesitation. Again, you can't let that dominate you, so you breathe in and out behind your mask and force yourself to steady your grip.
You watch Tetarti dance around the liver with an unspoken rage, sweat dripping from your forehead and temples quicker than they can, syringe full of serum and focus at its full potential. Everything else has disappeared from your sight of vision, even Angie despite her standing right next to you. You have no attention to waste on anything else. Nothing, not even yourself.
By the time the least Tetarti cell dies out, your legs are about to give in because of how much you've forced yourself to stay strong all along. Still, if you can hear this man call you by your first name one more time, it'll be more than worth it. Your mentor deserves to see tomorrow and so many days after it.
You close the patient up and put away your tools, exiting the room only to collapse onto the nearest chair. Angie asks you if you're fine, but you've run out of air to speak with, so you just nod and sigh in relief. It's over. It's finally over. This hell of a day is over, and it's ended with no casualty too. Thank Asclepius for that.
You'd have been devastated if you had failed, that's obvious.
Before you can entirely relax, you have a couple people to inform. You change back from your bloodied scrubs into your Caduceus uniform, trying to ignore the dark rings staring at you in the mirror of the changing room, and trying to stay afloat. Your body has troubles coping with the intense stress you were under merely minutes ago and the immense relief you're now experiencing. It hasn't gotten the time to adapt just yet, so you almost trip on yourself before pulling yourself together.
Cybil exhales a sigh of relief in an even rarer second moment of vulnerability while Sidney tries hiding tears under his glasses reflecting the light. It's like the loop has been complete and, from now on, everything will be fine, as tomorrow can't be worse than the days before it. Generally speaking, the atmosphere at Caduceus suddenly lightens.
You know you'll find yourself in Dr Kasal's room soon enough, because you'll never not be worried for a father when the latter is still vulnerable to your eyes; but for now, you can enjoy the relief and the semblance of serenity. Not to mention, you may have a few hours of sleep to catch, considering your vision keeps swimming when you move your head too quickly. Angie seems fairly intent on having you get these. You don't find the strength in yourself to say no for longer than a couple sentences.
It seems like Cybil is fairly intent on being Dr Kasal's watchdog in the meantime anyway.