"I… I don't understand," Fiyero said when he found his voice, glancing between the two women. "This… this can't be real. Is this a training exercise? Or a test?"

"I'm afraid not. Elphaba collapsed in the foyer this morning," Glinda reported, clutching Elphaba's hand.

"Don't make it sound so dramatic," Elphaba sighed with an eye roll. She tried to pull her hand away, but Glinda held on in a death grip. "I was just feeling a bit lightheaded."

"You lost consciousness for almost three minutes! I can be as dramatic as I want!"

"Did you hit your head?" Fiyero asked, wondering if he should go into 'doctor-mode', since this clearly wasn't a joke.

"Crope heard her wheezing, and caught her before she fell. And that's all I will offer, as I also have work to do. Elphie, be good for the doctor, and do what he says."

Elphaba shot her a look, which Glinda shot down with a glare. "Yes, Nurse," she mumbled begrudgingly.

She kissed her forehead. "Good." She turned and waved to Fiyero, mouthing 'good luck' before leaving the two to their own devices.

"I… I wasn't given your chart."

"Because I have it." She reached under her pillow and pulled out a clipboard, handing it to him. "I keep my things as private as possible."

He nodded, reading it over. He already knew about her hypochromic anemia, so that wasn't what caught his eye and made him do a double take. "You have Aquagenic Urticaria?"

She tugged on the neck of the hospital gown. "Yes."

That would explain her reaction to him accidentally splashing her with water. "Oh."

"That's not why we're here right now, Dr. Tigulaar."

"Yes, right. Um… have you had any other symptoms related to your anemia?"

"I had an upset stomach this morning, so I didn't eat. I figured that's what caused the lightheadedness and I was going to eat something here, but…"

He jotted down notes. "How often does this happen?"

"The stomach aches?"

"You passing out."

"Oh. Every few years, my body likes to remind me that despite how strong I act, I am, in fact, sick." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not terminal. But I haven't had an attack this big in… almost seven years."

"Right."

"You're stalling on the assessment."

"I'm not stalling. I'm being a good doctor and making sure I have all the information I need." He went over to the sink and washed his hands. He warmed his stethoscope on his palm and carefully unbuttoned the back of Elphaba's hospital gown.

"Yes, I really am green all over," Elphaba said softly.

"I… what?"

"You were thinking it. Everyone thinks it, but never says it. So, I say it for them."

He bit back his retort. He could see that Elphaba was more vulnerable than she would've preferred to be in front of him, and now was not the time to make her feel worse, especially since she was still his boss. He pressed the stethoscope to her back. "Deep breath in."

He finished the assessment quickly. Elphaba cooperated, much to his surprise, and they made a silent agreement to be as professional as possible to keep this as normal as possible.

"How do you do blood work for an anemic patient?" she asked when he told her he wanted to run some tests.

He remembered her showing him what to do with her sickle cell patient. "I won't take a lot. Just enough to do a complete blood count. Do you want orange juice or grape soda?"

"Orange juice."

He nodded. "I'll get it myself."

She nodded back and watched him go, pulling out her phone. She considered texting Nessa, but didn't want her sister to freak out. Besides, she was fine. She knew how to handle her illness and her sister's hysterics would only make things worse. Still, she didn't want to be there all alone.

"I'm back," Fiyero said, reappearing with the blood work equipment, a carton of orange juice, and a thick straw. "Ready."

"Do what I taught you, Tigulaar." She extended her left arm, and Fiyero got to work. He noticed how Elphaba refused to look at her arm, but didn't comment on it. Lots of people didn't like seeing their blood leave their bodies.

"Done," he said, carefully removing the needle and taping cotton over the small wound. He handed her the orange juice and straw. "I'll ask them to expedite these labs."

"If you feel that would be the best course of action."

"I do." He turned to leave, but stopped, his hand hovering over the doorknob. "May I ask about your water allergy?"

She glanced up at him, the straw in her mouth, and made a face. "Why?"

"You read my file. You know I have a special interest in rare diseases."

She scowled. "I'm not your special case study, Tigulaar."

He grimaced. "Right. Of course. I'm sorry." He turned the knob.

"I was born with it. It doesn't have anything to do with my anemia." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It's just a skin allergy, so I can drink water. If it touches my skin, I break out in hives."

He turned around. "So… sweat…"

"Results in hives. As do tears. When I was a child, my parents just thought I had sensitive skin. They thought I was just throwing a temper tantrum when it was bath time. They didn't know the water was causing me intense, physical harm."

"The hives… are they –"

"They're itchy and painful, ranging from mildly discomforting to stabbing pain. Antihistamines make it bearable, but don't make the pain go away completely."

"How long do they usually last?"

"Around forty-five minutes. If left untreated, they can become infected. That only happened once, when I was a teenager." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "I was in the hospital for three months. I was hot and cold at the same time, and so thirsty, but they couldn't give me any water, since I could keep anything down."

"That's awful. I'm sorry."

She fidgeted. "I'm okay." She straightened, looking as much like her usual self as she could. "You'll all be with Dr. Harv until I'm fully back on my feet. Oh, and Dr. Tigulaar?"

"Yes?"

"Don't let the information you just learned about me become gossip. Remember, doctors know how to heal, and also how to hurt."

He nodded. "I understand."

She nodded and turned away, signaling the end of their conversation. Fiyero went to the nurses and asked them to expedite the lab results, looking back at the closed door once more before going to check on his other patients.

"You guys, I hate Dr. Harv."

Pfannee and ShenShen slammed their lunch trays onto the table and plopped down with loud huffs. Milla and Fiyero looked at the two with wary eyes, wondering what could have possibly caused the outburst.

"He thinks I don't know what I'm doing," ShenShen grumbled. "He keeps hovering over my shoulder, breathing down my neck, talking over me, and questioning my judgment in front of my patients. I'm about to lose my patience!"

"He keeps calling me 'young lady'. If I hear that one more time, I'll 'young lady' him right in his nuts!" Pfannee growled, murderously stabbing her salad with her fork.

Fiyero was also annoyed with Dr. Harv, but the girls had it way worse. "It's only 'til Dr. Thropp feels better."

"Would it help if we all brought her flowers to cheer her up?" Milla asked hopefully.

"I think… if we brought her flowers… she'd shove them so far down our throats, we'd be pooping petals," Fiyero said with no hint of irony. "She doesn't want any of us near our hospital room." He didn't tell them that Dr. Thropp was now his patient, knowing they wouldn't leave him alone for details.

"Let's talk about something else, like how we saw Milla leaving with Dr. Bfee last night," Pfannee smirked.

The redhead blushed, finding her ham sandwich very interesting. "He was walking me to my car."

"Dr. Boq Bfee, the anesthesiologist? Sexy," ShenShen grinned. "Tell us everything!"

"I observed Dr. Thetial perform a fetal surgery, and he was obviously there. He showed me the monitor and how he controls the amount of anesthesia he administers. It was very… cool," Milla admitted.

"So you fell in love over numbers?" Fiyero asked.

"Romantic numbers," Pfannee corrected, and he rolled his eyes.

"What's he like?"

"He's quiet, but knows everything about all the surgeons."

"And surgeons always have good gossip," ShenShen added, finishing her slice of cake. "But the nurses still have them beat."

"And that's all for me. Anyone else have hospital gossip?"

"Well, I heard that the seventh-floor nurses know how to get access to the alleged secret pool on the roof that's only for attendings."

"Ooh, do tell."

Fiyero knocked on Elphaba's door, pushing it open with his hip. "Dr. Thropp?" he frowned at the empty bed.

He heard the toilet flush in the bathroom, and relaxed, seeing Elphaba emerge. The two held eye contact for a bed before Elphaba moved back to the bed, sitting down with a soft moan. "What did the results say?" she asked before he could say anything.

He took them out of the folder. "Your iron is very low, lower than an anemic normal."

"I figured," she said, taking a deep breath, and Fiyero noticed how she seemed to be struggling a bit. "Going to the bathroom was a longer trip than expected. I'm… supposed to take my iron pill with food, and I didn't eat, so…"

"Your CMO was okay, so I don't think you'll need a transfusion. But I want you to rest tonight, and we'll do an oxygen treatment. We'll see if things are better tomorrow." He met her gaze. "Is that alright?"

"Are you asking me if that's a correct treatment plan as a doctor, or are you asking for my consent as a patient?"

"Both."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. "Yes… as both."

"Great. I'll let the nurses know."

"Only tell Glinda. She hasn't left yet."

He'd caught onto their deep friendship a while back, so he didn't question it. "Alright. I'll page her up here."

"Thanks."

"Of course. I want you to be comfortable and get well."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes. It's not because Dr. Harv is beating us down or anything," he chuckled jokingly. "We're fine. I promise. Nobody's died or sued the hospital."

"I don't doubt you. You're… you're a good doctor."

He gave her a cheeky grin.

"Especially with children."

"What –"

"Imie Liunes; offering to play twenty questions with her to distract her from the blood work, and giving seemingly genuine answers. And playing along with her personal questions."

"That was the first time we… You saw that?"

"I see everything."

He nodded, then a realization sunk in. "Please don't switch me to peds."

She chuckled, and Fiyero felt his heart rate quicken slightly. "I won't."

"Is there anything else you need before I go?"

"… You should know that I didn't choose you to be my doctor. I didn't get any say in the matter, even though, as your resident, I'm the one who assigns your cases. That being said… I'm not mad I got assigned to you."

"Is this your way of telling me you like me?"

She rolled her eyes. "You had a long day. Go home and get some rest."

He nodded with a slight smile, bid her goodnight, and left, sending the page to Glinda before hurrying down to the locker room.

The following morning, Dr. Harv called them early for rounds. He lectured them about the importance of… something. None of the interns were paying attention to his rant. He was scolding them like they were children, and it was a strong turn-off with the interns. The one thing they all remembered was that there would be 'no lollygagging and meandering like they did with Dr. Thropp'.

They managed to get through rounds without a huge incident, though Dr. Harv told ShenShen her medicine math was incorrect (it was correct), told Pfannee that the nurses shouldn't be doing everything for her patients (which was inaccurate), and asked Shem so many questions that he didn't get to talk about his patients' treatment plans.

When they were finally allowed to depart and go their separate ways, they all felt like they'd had a full day already. Fiyero checked on his patients, met a few new ones, and was able to get some paperwork done.

When he got to Elphaba's room, Glinda was finishing up her vitals check. She smiled at him when he came in, putting away the last of the oxygen therapy supplies.

"How we doin' today?" he asked, pulling up a chair and sitting by the bedside.

"Better," Elphaba said honestly.

Fiyero nodded, looking at her chart. "Your oxygen levels are back up, as is your iron."

"Wonderful. You can ask the nurses' station for the discharge papers –"

"Discharge? Who said anything about discharging you?"

"You said I was doing better."

"Yes. You're doing better because I forced you to relax. I think you should spend one more day off your feet."

"I thought you all hated Dr. Harv."

"Who said that?"

"Again, I see, and hear, everything."

"We'll be stuck with Dr. Harv for longer than we want if you push yourself too much, exhaust yourself, and end up back in this room." He could see Elphaba working her jaw, preparing to argue with him. "I want to observe you for just one more day."

"Fine," Elphaba conceded. "Go down to my office and bring up the stack of five binders on my desk."

"Dr. Thropp –"

"I don't want to sit in bed and do nothing all day. I understand my current limitations, but I can still get some paperwork done. I need something to keep me company."

"Do you have any family I could call?"

"My sister is in graduate school, and my father is… not going to come."

"You don't have an emergency contact?"

"I do, to be used in an emergency. This is hardly an emergency."

"Alright. Five binders from your desk, coming right up." He hurriedly retrieved the paperwork, and quickly returned, barely setting them down on the bed before Elphaba grabbed the first one and began reading. He sensed she had tuned him out, and quietly slipped out, shaking his head.

Elphaba muttered to herself, making notes on the files as she waited for her pages to be answered. She wasn't waiting long, and soon, Crope, Tibbett, and Sarima were in her room.

"We still have to have diagnostic team meetings? I thought those were canceled while you're out of commission," Crope said in a borderline whine.

"I assure you, I'm well enough to go through these files," Elphaba said, sitting up straighter in bed.

"Elphaba, you're a patient right now. You need to rest," Sarima said. "Doctors need sick days, too."

"If anything, we need more than the general public, since we're always around sick people," Tibbett said.

"People don't stop getting sick just because doctors do," Elphaba argued, pulling out a file.

"Sick doctors don't do any good for anyone," Sarima argued. "We need you to be a patient today so you can be a doctor tomorrow."

"Fine. What about this; Yesy Flyiano, a twenty-three-year-old female, back rash, fever, migraine, and grey-colored poop."

"Oh, I know her. She's that influencer who's so stinkin' rich, she has a stretch limo that's so long, it only goes straight. If she wants to make a turn, she has to switch limos," Crope said.

"Do we want a rich influencer here?" Sarima asked.

"It would be good exposure for the hospital," Tibbett pointed out.

"As if we need more."

"Do we take her on a patient? We can worry about the exposure and security and everything else later," Elphaba said exasperatingly.

"I vote 'yes'," Crope said.

"Sure. Why not?" Tibbett agreed.

"If I can get her autograph, I'm game," Sarima nodded.

Elphaba rolled her eyes at Sarima's comment, but signed off on the paperwork, passing it around for the other doctors to also sign. "Great. Crope, can you take care of everything else for intake?"

"Sure," Crope nodded.

She put the papers back in the folder. "Thank you. That's all I needed from the diagnostic team."

"Great. Let us know if you need anything else, Elphaba," Tibbett said. "And get some rest so you can feel better."

"Doctor's orders," Sarima said. "Your three favorite attendings have signed off on it."

The green woman's lips quirked, and she promised with a sincere tone. It was enough to convince the other three doctors, and they left with the diagnostic team files. She felt a headache coming on, so she leaned back against the pillows, taking a few deep breaths. Her phone rang and she forced her eyes open, seeing her sister's name pop up on her screen. She groaned, but took a deep breath, forcing a happy tone as she answered. "Hi, Nessa."

"Hi. I called your office, but you didn't pick up."

"I'm working. What do you need?"

"Can you come by tonight? I need a haircut, and you're the only one who does it the way I like."

"Unfortunately, no. I have plans." She really didn't want to tell Nessa the truth, and she began floundering for a convincing lie.

"Plans? What plans?"

"My plans, Nessa."

"Can you reschedule?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Nessa was silent, and Elphaba was sure she was gearing up for a guilt trip. "Okay," the younger girl finally whispered. "I'll talk to you later."

"Nessa –"

Click.

Elphaba stared at her phone screen, showing her home icons since the call ended. Perhaps she should've said that she was sick. That would've given her the upper hand and hopefully would've made Nessa reconsider guilt-tripping her. It didn't seem like a guilt trip now, but Elphaba knew her sister. She knew Nessa was gearing up to pull out all the stops during her next visit.

Her headache hadn't ebbed, so she relaxed against the pillows. The hospital beds weren't the most comfortable, but they worked enough to get her to relax. She didn't know how much time had passed, but the next thing she knew, she faintly heard the door creak open.

"Dr. Thropp?"

She turned her head and forced her eyes open. "Dr. Tigulaar."

Fiyero closed the door behind him. "What hurts?"

"… Headache. Side effect of the anemia, as you'll remember. But a call from my sister made everything worse."

"Is she alright?"

"Yes. She's just annoying."

"I can give you –"

"You can give me two Tylenol tablets from my bag. Don't worry, I haven't taken any yet."

He nodded, handing her her bag, and watching as she took two pills, washing them down with her water bottle.

"What time do you leave?" Elphaba asked once she felt the tension in her head relieved.

"I'm on-call tonight. I'm doing a full thirty-hour shift."

She nodded. "Well, if you decided to take a nap in the on-call room, keep your pager by your ear so you'll hear it."

He smiled. "That's very good advice."

"It's still my job to make sure you don't have to learn certain things the hard way."

He hummed. "Why did you decide to become a doctor?"

The question caught her off guard, and she raised an eyebrow, but it slowly lowered as she considered the question. "I've always considered hospitals my second home. My sister and I weren't blessed with the strongest immune systems, though I had it worse than her."

"You… liked hospitals when you were younger?"

"No, I hated them. But I always tried to make the best of it. I always told myself that if I ever had a flair-up, I could still get some work done." She gestured to the files on her bedside table.

"Two-in-one to get it done," Fiyero laughed, and a ghost of a smile flashed across Elphaba's face.

"The doctors who weren't using me for experiments or special case studies were nice. The nurses were decent, and –"

"Wait, they used you as a guinea pig?"

"You make it sound like they strapped me to a table and were cackling like mad scientists as electricity zapped around them. No, but I was subjected to lots of questions and… water tests." And that was all she said on the subject. "What about you? Why are you a doctor?"

"Medicine has always been a part of my life. My grandparents took almost every medication known to man, my dad is a pharmacy technician, my aunt and uncle are co-CEOs of a big pharmaceutical company, and, ironically, I haven't prescribed any of their medications to my patients yet."

Sometime during their conversation, Fiyero sat down on the bed next to Elphaba. The green woman hadn't said anything about it, which made Fiyero think she was okay with it.

They didn't know how long they were talking, but the next thing they knew, Fiyero's pager beeped. "It's my dialysis patient." He looked at the clock. He and Elphaba had been talking for four hours.

"Before you go, could you… when you're done, of course… come back?"

He smiled. "Of course. I'm not letting you get the last word about The Skyscraper Two being a better movie than the original." His pager beeped again. "Alright! I'm coming!"