Work Text:
Randolph did not know what made him walk by Kit’s office. She was not even supposed to be there, considering her earlier promise that she would go home and get some rest. Actually, he hoped he would find the lights turned off and the door locked.
Ever since Derek was admitted, Kit embraced her maternal responsibilities, spending all the time not taken up by patients by Molly’s side. As his condition declined and the reason behind it was revealed, her daily schedule also began to include looking over his chart and obsessively monitoring test results. Randolph could see the strain the situation was putting on her and with each passing day, the sympathy he felt for her was joined by an increasing level of concern. His worries were promptly brushed aside, but over time, Kit’s claims that she was alright became less convincing, until eventually, he managed to convince her that she simply could not be a good source of support if she had no energy of her own left.
Despite Kit’s insistence that his advice will be heeded, Randolph found himself turning left along the hallway, and he was not surprised when he saw the lights turned on and Kit moving around inside. He knocked lightly but pushed the door ajar without waiting for a response.
“Didn’t you say you were going home?”
Kit did not look up at him and continued moving around the books and stacks of folders that were sprawled all over her desk. “I did. I was. I got all the way to the lobby before I got this image in my head of Derek coding and I suddenly couldn’t walk out the door.”
“So you decided to… spring clean your office?”
“I’m keeping busy. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” She picked up a stack of textbooks and handed them to Randolph. “Put these back on the shelf, would you? Over there on the top,” she instructed, gesturing in the direction of a now-empty bookshelf.
Randolph obediently did as he was told. “Keeping busy is good. Has Molly gone home?”
“Checking up on Josie. She won’t go home until Derek is out of danger but I’ve convinced her to at least leave the hospital for a little while.”
“That’s good.” He put his hands in his pockets and continued to watch as Kit fiddled with papers. “It's good advice for you too.”
“I work here. I can’t just leave.”
“Yes, you can. You’re not on call and you don’t have surgeries scheduled or patients to see. Maybe if Molly saw you going home, she would see that it’s okay–”
“Right. You’re just the person I need parenting advice from,” Kit interrupted, her tone curt and her gaze fixed intently on him. Then, as though some external force caused her armour to shatter, she exhaled sharply and fell back into her desk chair. “Sorry. It's just that I haven't been able to think straight in a long time,” she continued, her words calmer and no longer punctuated by barbs but the exhaustion on her face now more visible. “I have to keep myself together for Molly and she’s always here. Even when she’s not here I find myself constantly on edge.”
“I can leave if you want. Give you some space.”
“No… Don’t give me space.” Her voice was soft now but undoubtedly filled with conviction. “That’s the last thing I want with you.”
Randolph remained in his place, not wanting to leave either but also not certain what he should do now. In the early years of his career, he discovered he had a gift for words, and an ability to use language to achieve results, and it was a skill that he honed and developed. But this was not a patient that needed to be talked into surgery or an overly inquisitive Board member or a colleague in need of professional advice. This was a friend – a close friend – and suddenly he did not know what he was supposed to say. He intended to approach the situation rationally, providing rational advice when Kit was too wrapped up in emotions, but as he stood there, Randolph realised that what she needed was the companionship of someone in front of whom she was free to articulate the myriad of thoughts that were currently whirling around her head, something she was unable to do in the presence of her family. He walked over and sat down on the chair in front of her.
Kit bit her button lip. “I keep going through the events over and over. I keep thinking I should have been more insistent. Got him to come in earlier. Or maybe I should have just stayed out of it so he would have gone to a different hospital, one without any damned superbugs.”
“You have to stop thinking that, Kit. There is nothing you could have done. It’s a freak accident that never should have happened.” Randolph focused on keeping his words measured and direct.
“I could have tried harder to stop Cain. Maybe if I’d filed that official complaint—“
“Then you would most likely have been fired,” he interjected before Kit’s thoughts could spiral out of control. “That’s the best case scenario. The worst: Cain spreads some rumour and you never find another job again. As it stands, you are in the best position you can be and you are doing all the right things. You brought him here because you know we have brilliant doctors. Let them do their job.”
Kit did not respond for some time, her eyes fixed on the photograph on her desk. Eventually, she looked back at him. “I hate this. Being useless. I’m a doctor, for god’s sake, and this is a medical issue. I fix things and especially I’m supposed to be able to fix things for my children and instead…” Her voice trailed off as she put her head in her hands to hide the imminent threat of tears. When she looked up again, Randolph saw her eyes were glassy, “What am I meant to do, Randolph?” she pleaded, her voice quiet and her words uncertain.
“You’re on the other side of the curtain now. You can’t approach this as a doctor. And you can’t continue helping Molly get through this unless you take of yourself at the same time. That starts with getting some sleep, preferably in a bed and not on an armchair.” He nodded towards the pillow and blanket stacked in the corner.
“It’s not so bad.”
“Oh? Aren’t you the one always nagging me about my posture?”
She chuckled. “Because your posture is horrendous.”
Seeing Kit’s teasing smile reassured Randolph that his presence was having a positive effect. “Look, I’m loaded with work today so I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future. Why don’t you go home, maybe take Molly with you, and I’ll keep a close eye on Derek? I promise I’ll watch him carefully and you’ll be the first to know of any changes, good or bad.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we? It’s the least I can do.”
Randolph could see Kit wanted to protest more, but her fatigue must have overruled any further objections. Instead, she just uttered a quiet “Thank you.”
“Good. That’s settled then.” He smiled and stood up. “Now promise me that the next time I walk in this direction, I will find your office empty.”
“Fine,” Kit replied, before adding, “You’re very persistent you know.”
“Some people say it’s my best quality.” Giving Kit a comforting smile, he turned around and walked out of the door.
Upon returning to his office, Randolph slumped into his chair before quickly straightening up at the memory of Kit’s rebukes about his posture.
By comparison to Kit’s office, which bore indications of an identity other than a doctor, Randolph’s appeared almost sterile. It was this thought that occurred to him as he looked around it now and reflected on the conversation he had just had. Unlike Kit, there were no photographs framed on his desk. The closest he had come to decorations was a drawing made by Jake that hung on the wall more than twenty years ago. He did have it within himself to destroy it when the marriage with Donna ended, but now it lay discarded in a box, hidden away in the spare room of his house along with other remnants of himself that he preferred to be hidden both from the public and from himself. It was easy to think of Kit as the same as him – two surgeons who let their career ambitions drive their lives – but small details like this would serve as constant reminders that she had a whole life outside the hospital, people to spend holidays with and family to be proud of and who will be proud of her in return – all accolades that would likely outlive her surgical career.
Life is the sum of decisions, and Randolph was aware that he made the choices that led him to this life. He was ready to take responsibility for them. Yet, he also found himself increasing pondering the question ‘what if?”, and the appearance of those thoughts happened to coincide with the arrival of Kit.