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"Carter? What the hell are you doing!”
Mark Greene — Chief Resident at County General Hospital — has seen his staff do a lot of questionable things since rising to his station. Usually, it's his close friend Doug Ross’ behaviour that he'd be baffled by, but walking into a patient's private room to see relatively new medical student John Carter dismantling the woman's nest surprises him so much he can't help but swear.
Mark had heard all about the kerfuffle that occured in the break room last week — firstly through the gossiping of random nurses and clerks who happened to see it all unfold, and then a more thorough retelling from his friend Susan. While initially taken aback by the med students' ideas surrounding scent-marking, Mark quickly came to the conclusion that the difference in opinion between Carter and Carol probably stems from their polar-opposite upbringings. Mark could vaguely remember one of his classmates at university — another upper cruster like the Carter family — loudly and proudly sharing similar sentiments.
Carter, bright-eyed and brown hair his classic style of tussled, turns at his superior's exclamation — mustard yellow throw pillow in hand — and has the audacity to smile. Here he is, 10a.m on a Monday morning — ruining an unconscious woman's nest after she's had a horrible weekend spent in hospital — and he's practically beaming.
“Dr. Greene! How are you? I was just organising the pillows for Mrs. Smith, trying to make her more comfortable.” He says happily, making no move to stop rearranging the piles of pillows and blankets. He tucks the yellow cushion by the woman's head and gently smooths her hair out. Then, he picks up a navy blue, frilly cushion that was at the bottom of the bed and makes to move that one as well.
Walking towards the pair of them, Mark bodily inserts himself between the bed and his med student, who takes a step back but keeps a hold of the blue pillow.
“I'm no Omega,” he starts, being a Beta himself, “but I'm pretty confident that Mrs. Smith probably feels more comfortable in a nest of her own making.” The doctor finishes, staring down at Carter with a stern expression.
In Mark's experience, the only people dumb enough to mess with an Omega's nest were entitled assholes, and — while Carter may be entitled due to his heritage — Mark doesn't know him to be an asshole. Sadly, he's not known the kid all that long, so he may still be proven wrong about his character assessment. He really hopes not, though.
“Well, I just thought… I just didn't think it was allowed? A nest in a hospital? I didn't want her to be in any trouble.” Carter responds sheepishly, chin resting atop the pillow he's clenching and curling inwards around the object.
‘At least he has the decency to appear apologetic, unlike many other scolded students,’ Mark thinks, expression softening a bit due to the kids' protective reasoning and pup-like demeanor. Mark never thought himself as being very paternal in nature up until he and Jennifer had Rachel, and since then he can admit that his tolerance for pups has increased tremendously. And, while Carter is no longer pup-age, he still acts like one — all unsure and wide-eyed, always seeking reassurance from the people around him.
Still, that doesn't mean Mark will let him off easy, especially since this isn't the first instance of this sort of behaviour.
“Carter, did you sleep through the compulsory ‘Designations in a Healthcare Environment’ module I know you would have had? Of course Omega's can nest while in hospital. Hell, even janitors know that.” Mark chastises, mentally planning on assigning the med student some work around this topic to brush up on. Knowing the kid, he was probably hungover during that class (if he even bothered to attend) and — from the two incidents now — definitely needs a recap on how designations work in a hospital setting.
“I just… I…” the young man stutters, fully clutching onto the pillow now for comfort, blunt fingernails digging into the plush material.
“This is a hospital, Carter,” Mark cuts in, hoping to squash any interjections before they arise, “Our goal is to help people feel better. If that includes our Omegan patients rearranging their pillows and blankets then who are we to stop them? Honestly, this could have ended very badly. What if the stress of someone — a perfect stranger no less — ruining her nest worsened her condition? Take it from me kid, the last thing you want or need is a medical malpractice lawsuit, which is very easily how this situation could have ended.”
Mark almost feels bad at how quickly Carter's face falls into despair, the young man's brown puppy eyes misting over and his lower lip minutely quivering.
“I'm sorry, Dr. Greene. I really am,” he whispers, truly sounding apologetic. Eyes flicking between Mark and the halfway dismantled nest, the med student decides to ramble on. “I just… I was just under the impression that nests are meant to be private? Just, isn't it a bit… rude? To nest in public like this?”
And nope, no way can Mark allow this questioning to go on any further. He supposes Carter would have had to learn one way or another, and to be truthful he's somewhat glad it's him who's doing the educating. If it were certain other members of staff, they might have tried changing his ideas with their fists instead of their words.
“That's enough. You're really lucky, Carter, that it was myself that caught you doing this — at least I somewhat know about how the upper class view designations and their instincts — but you cannot insert those kinds of ideas into your work here. If it were Carol or Doug who came up to check on Mrs. Smith and saw you destroying her nest, you'd be walking away with more than a stern talking to and some more homework if you catch my drift,” the older man warns, grabbing the pillow from Carter and depositing it back on the patient's bed.
Carter lets out a meek “eeep” sound as the pillow is forced out of his grasp and — once he's righted himself — practically stumbles towards the room door.
“I'm really sorry again, Sir,” he says, and if Mark was thinking clearly he'd flag just how odd being called ‘Sir’ by Carter is, how weirdly stilted and formal it sounds. But, he isn't thinking clearly, so what he says instead is:
“I know you are, Carter. But sorry won't cut it next time. If I catch wind of another problem like this happening, we'll need to have a serious discussion about it and have to involve Morgenstern. Now, I want to avoid that as much as you do, trust me, so please just brush up on how you're expected to conduct yourself while doing your rotation here.”
Face pale and eyes dull — expression no longer full of the younger man's usual joie de vivre — Carter only gives a small nod and then slips out the door, mumbling one last apology.
Sighing, Mark gives himself a moment to breathe, hating to have to berate the kid but knowing he did the right thing. He just hopes Carter can take his concerns to heart before Mark receives a patient complaint or before Carol beats the crap out of the kid.