Hi everyone, this is a new story with an old concept that I had years ago and just didn't carry it very far due to having too many other fan fics on the go. I am back on twitter for fan fic purposes only, so if you want to follow me there plz send me a msg and i will send you my username. I will be working on this exclusively going forward. Plz let me know what you think :)

It was a lot and the day had barely even began; Olivia thought as she discretely looked at her watch. She had rounds in less than 45 minutes. She folded her legs beneath her and smiled encouragingly at the fifteen-year-old boy who hesitated before he picked out a card from the deck of encouraging affirmations that she'd spread out before him.

"I know you think this is silly, Justin," she told the sweet kid who looked at least half of his age, "but I think that if you start your day with a positive thought, it might set the tone for the day, even when everything else feels a little bit pointless like you described to me."

With a scowl, he swiped one of the cards.

"Great," she said, more excited about the tiny break through than he sure was. "Now what does it say?"

"It says, 'I'm a good and kind person'" he told her reluctantly as if it was the last thing he wanted to do – to read out a stupid personal affirmation card.

"Do you think that's true?" she wondered, "that you're a good and kind person?" she nodded toward the card.

Justin groaned with frustration and flopped back against the couch that opposed her in a very dramatic fashion. "Does it matter? Did you forget? I'm going to die soon!"

"We're all going to die, Justin," she replied.

She felt a pang of regret for saying the words that she knew were true but the impact was different; less tangible without a terminal illness. True, Olivia could step outside the Trinity Hospital doors and get hit by a bus, or some kind of comical death like an anvil-type situation could fall on top of her from rickety scaffolding above, but unlike Justin, her sudden death would be a surprise. His mortality was a reality that was not a matter of 'if' but 'when'.

"Yeah, but the Grim Reaper hasn't been chasing you down since you were 10," he sighed. "Olivia, I do think I'm a good and kind person," he told her as if he was deep in thought, with the tone and resolve of an adult, "but what does it matter? Bad people rob banks and murder other people and they get to live…"

Some days it was hard to argue.

"You're entitled to your feelings, Justin, nothing that you feel here is wrong, it's normal to feel all of these things; to feel like life has been unfair or unkind to you, but your life is still not worthless. You are the light of your mother and father's life. No one gets to know how many years we are given on this Earth, if you only get 15, it was still a life lived and a life that matters. If you live til you are 48, it's the same logic; you matter, you hold value and you mean something to everyone that you meet for all the wonder that is you."

"Its okay Olivia, you don't have to try so hard. I know I'm dying and I'm cool with that, it's everyone else that isn't. I don't need to pull stupid feel-good cards out of a deck and start my day by looking in the mirror after my labs, telling myself I'm a good and kind person."

Her heart sank a little. She didn't let it show. She could tell by the sallow of his cheeks and his body that was becoming more emaciated every day, that it wouldn't be long. She knew that he knew it too.

"Dr Langan thinks all this therapy is stupid too."

Ugh, she thought, she wanted to tell Justin just what she thought about Dr Langan interfering. Instead she shrugged, "I think Dr. Langan sees you for 20 minutes once a week and your parents have a better understand of what's best for your emotional well-being," she said with a tight smile.

Finally, Justin laughed. "I like Dr. Langan, he doesn't treat me like I'm an idiot, or I'm ten. He talks to me like I want to be spoken to."

"And how is that?" Olivia asked, "are we not speaking plainly enough?"

He shrugged, "its just different. You're so serious about all of this, my parents are struggling with my illness, you all think I am but I'm not. I've accepted it, I wish it would happen already because I'm tired of waking up and wondering if this is the day. I want Mom and Dad to go back to life and spend all the time with Timmy that he's missed out on with them because I'm here."

/

Olivia smiled at the shift nurse behind the desk as she grabbed her files. "Could you please get me the chart for today so I can see if anyone's been discharged?" she asked politely. She had only been at Trinity for 3 weeks, she hadn't made any friends yet, but she could see that Dr. Trevor Langan was certainly well liked.

She glared at him down the hall flirting with a nurse—the two of them laughing so hysterically. She couldn't help but to think about what a douche he looked like; wearing a traditional white coat like an old fashioned doctor. Did no one give him the memo that doctors were more casual, she wondered.

A child passing behind him with an oxygen machine said something to him. The doctor whirled around to see the source of the voice and grinned; his whole face lit up to see the little girl who had paused beside her mother. Olivia couldn't hear what they were saying, but he threw his fist in the air with great abandon. The child and her mother laughed.

He held up his hand and the girl gave him a high five. The mother two. Surprising her, he crouched down on his haunches so that he was at her level and spoke with her quietly for a moment and watched her throw her arms around him. He smiled and embraced her.

"Like what ya see, huh?" someone came up beside her. Olivia pulled her gaze from the doctor to the young, blonde nurse. "Everyone loves Langan, he's the best and he's beautiful. Am I right?" she spoke to the shift nurse.

"Right on!" she smiled.

Olivia just smiled. "I haven't really met him yet, he certainly does have a reputation though."

"I'm Cara," the nurse beside Olivia stuck her hand out, "You must be Dr. Benson – the new psych, right?"

"Sure am," Olivia replied, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you Cara."

"Come follow me, I'll introduce you to Langan."

"I'd love to, but I have rounds," she replied. "It was nice to meet you," she smiled and waved. She started at one end of the ward and decided to make her way down. She knew it wasn't fair of her to dismiss the doctor, to pre-judge him, but she'd been at the rodeo long enough to know how the system worked especially when it came to senior doctors or in his case, a professor. She wondered why he chose working among the humble doctors over sitting in an Ivory tower where the rest of them gathered with their poor bed-side manners, hardened by all the years of seeing things that kept them up at night – something that they would never admit to.

She shook him from her mind and stood at the door of the first room. She read over the chart outside of the door before entering. Female, Sarah Hall, 12 years old, cystic fibrosis – a genetic disorder of the lungs – a collection of too much mucus often clogging up passages, ducts and more. Olivia was very aware of CP and how susceptible patients were to lung infections and how the disease affected quality of life and even expectancy.

She knocked softly on the door and made sure she sanitized her hands.

A bright, blue-eyed child looked up from behind the curtain that Olivia pushed back. "Hi," she greeted the girl, "You must be Sarah," she smiled warmly at her. She was a little pale and looked tired, but otherwise well – if you discounted the oxygen prongs that sat just on the inside of her nostrils. The girl nodded and smiled back. "I'm Dr Benson, but you can call me Olivia if you like, would it be alright if I came in to chat?" she asked. She always kept her tone warm, even and calm and gave the child a right to decide whether or not they wanted to talk.

Her job wasn't to force psychologist appointments or to insist that every child speak about their feelings, her job was to be creative in the way that they handled their emotions – there were numerous therapies and strategies that Olivia liked to employ to allow each child with a long term illness to use to alleviate stress, to chat plainly about things without concern of upsetting anyone, or simply to stimulate their mind.

"Sure," the girl nodded. "Mom and Dad are at work so they can't talk to you but they'll be here this afternoon."

Olivia pulled up a chair and sat down beside her bed and placed her files on the table that had been pushed away from the girl's bed.

"That's alright, I wanted to talk to you actually, if you feel like talking of course."

Sarah shrugged and smiled back at the warm, friendly doctor. She surveyed Olivia's long, dark wavy hair that tumbled over her shoulders and down almost to the middle of her back. She thought the doctor was pretty with her high cheekbones and smooth skin and her kind, brown eyes. "I'm bored and I can't go home for a few days so why not?"

Olivia almost laughed at the bluntness of children – how they didn't care to mind her feelings, accepting a visit from her as a last resort to their boredom.

"Cool," she replied to Sarah, "so how about I tell you why I'm here first."

She nodded, listening.

"I am a child psychologist but I'm not here to shrink your brain or anything, I like to visit everyone and have a little talk to see how you're feeling and to see if there's anything you want to talk about that you might not feel comfortable talking to Mom or Dad about. I think sometimes when you have a lot of health issues going on, you can have a lot of big feelings and you don't want to make things harder on the people that love you."

"Oh," she shrugged, "I'm okay, I'm just bored. I'm not sad or worried about anything. I used to talk to a lady when I was younger."

Olivia smiled. "Okay that's fine we don't have to talk about feelings – we could just chat about other stuff, whatever you like. If you're feeling really adventurous I can even bring in some games next time or some art supplies, do you like that kind of stuff?" she wondered.

Sarah shrugged, "I like to paint sometimes at school but I have been watching youtube videos to learn to crochet, I want to make some cute toys for my baby cousins."

Olivia grinned at her, "well, well… guess who is the absolute queen of crochet?!" she asked the girl.

Sarah looked at her almost suspiciously with a half-smile. "You?" she asked in disbelief, "are you really?"

"I am, as it happens!" she paused, "well okay, maybe queen is a little stretch, but I can crochet and I can teach you if you'd like to see me tomorrow again."

She seemed impressed, "Oh good, do you know how to do amigurami?"

"Do I know how to do what?" she almost choked, maybe she had no idea what she was in for, but was confident she could teach herself whatever it was that the child was talking about.

"Amigurami, its what they call the crochet stuffies."

"Ohhhhh! Yes, I know how to crochet very well," she promised. "What do you say? I have some time dedicated to each patient every day if they so desire so all you have to do is ask for me."

"Is there any catch?" Sarah asked warily, "do you really know about doctor stuff as well?"

She laughed, "Yes Sarah, I'm a real doctor, I just choose to be a talking doctor, I like to get to know everyone and learn about people. I enjoy spending time with my patients and doing some fun things or sometimes just talking."

"How come I haven't seen you before?" she asked.

"Yeah, how come we haven't seen you before?" a playful voice parroted her from the doorway. Olivia swept over the doorway until they met with the tall, up-close-and-handsome doctor who grinned at her, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the hinges.

He had very defined features, a very strong jawline, a distinct chin, beautiful, piercing green-blue eyes and distinguished grey hair with the very hint of a 5 o'clock shadow lining the lower half of his face.

"Hi," she cleared her throat, ignoring his charm, "I'm Dr. Benson."

"Ah," he nodded knowingly, "Hi Sarah," he grabbed her chart. "I'm Professor Langan," his presence was a major one and he was tall, way too tall, Olivia thought. She wasn't short, she was 5'8" but as he stood on the opposite side of the bed and reached over to shake her hand, she realised he was almost a foot taller than her. "I oversee all my patients in this ward, welcome."

"Thanks," she gave him a brief smile. She turned to Sarah, "to answer your question, I've only been here a few weeks and its taken a minute to catch up that's why you're both only meeting me now."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Dr Benson," he smiled at her. He turned to Sarah, "tell me, how are you doing, kiddo?"

Olivia had noticed that as soon as Langan had walked in the door, her patient's face had lit up. She couldn't help but to feel dwarfed in his presence, as though she shrunk because his person commanded attention. She decided to observe.

"I'm good, my lungs feel clear today, I'm not coughing up as much."

Dr. Langan held up his hand and she gave him a high-five as if it was a routine occurance. "Do you mind if I have a listen to your chest real quick?" he asked her.

The little girl sat forward. "Would you like me to come back?" Olivia asked, feeling as though her presence had been all but dismissed.

"No," he shrugged, "sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, but I'll just be a moment."

She felt like it was rude that he had interrupted without any regard for her time with the patient. She said nothing, what could she possibly say that would be appropriate in front of the child?

The doctor lifted the stethoscope from around the collar of his white coat and tapped on several areas of her back which seemed to be routine to the girl. "Okay, I'm just gonna lift this up a little, is that cool?" he asked, referring to the back of her pajama top.

"Yes," Sarah replied.

"Okay it's a little cold alright? Try not to go soaring through the roof," he joked as he put the plugs in his ears and warmed the flat listening disc in the palm of his hand before placing it on in the upper middle of the child's back.

Sarah went quiet. "Big breath for me, Sarah," he directed her, "the biggest one you can do," he took a big gasp of air as if demonstrating, "and hold it if you can." She did as she was told and Olivia could see her face turning red, trying her best not to disappoint.

"Breathe away…" he smiled and asked her to repeat her action a few times. He pulled the stethoscope out of his ears and hung it back over his neck and pulled the hem of her shirt down. "Sounding pretty good," he assured her. He turned to Olivia, "she's a fighter, this one, aren't you?" he smiled at her.

She nodded, finding the doctor's praise to be validating.

"I can see that," Olivia smiled.

"A few more days of the physical therapy Sarah and I think you can probably go back home." He held his fingers up, crossing them.

"Can I go back to school?" she asked.

He shrugged, "let's take it one step at a time, we have to make sure you're completely done with the infection."

"Okay," she sighed.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, sweetheart," he leaned over the rail that was erected on his side of her bed. "School isn't going anywhere and Mom's got your catch up stuff, we need to make sure you're fully patched up before you get exposed to anymore germs, okay?" he gave her a little smile.

She nodded. Olivia found herself smiling too. He held out his hand to her, "Right, gimmie five and I'll leave you and Dr Benson to your little chat and your arts and crafts."

And suddenly the warmth that she felt watching their interchange was wiped away by his patronizing comment. She was full of annoyance as she watched the child give him five, slapping his hand.

"Good girl, you keep well, you hear me?" he winked.

He turned to Olivia and nodded in acknowledgement, "Dr Benson, I'm sure we'll talk."

"I'm sure," she replied, smiling tensely at him as he made his way back out. She was irate and frustrated but she said nothing. She smiled at Sarah. "So, how about those crochet lessons?"

"Yes, I want to do that, I want to make a thank you give for Dr. Trevor, he always takes care of me and he always says how much he loves Herbert. She lifted a crochet monkey to show Olivia. He had long arms and long legs and a cute face with sewn on google-eyes.

"Okay," she smiled, "we'll see what we can do. I'll speak with the nurses and find a time tomorrow to come and visit. I'll see what yarn I can find," she promised, "and we can crochet together and you can tell me all about yourself."

"Thanks Dr. Benson. I can't wait."

Olivia got up and placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "It was so lovely to meet you Sarah, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure."

Olivia lifted her stack of paperwork and gave the girl a wave as she left her to her own devices, a little shaken by Professor Langan's rudeness.

It wasn't that she hadn't dealt with pig-headed doctors that didn't recognise the value of therapy before; she had, she been dealing with his type her whole career, she just hadn't experienced such brazen disregard for her in front of a patient before.

She looked down the hallway trying to get a feel for where he might have headed next on his morning rounds. She took a deep breath and she continued on to meet her next patient.