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The hospital had been packed that day. Staff were being worked down to the bone, rushing from room to room with barely a second to breathe. At this point, most of them weren't paying much attention to who was coming or going. The three nurses on duty were practically burnt out from the constant cycle of admitting patients, treating them, and checking others out.
Follo had it the worst.
He was exhausted, running on little more than stubbornness and caffeine. Every time someone suggested he take a break, he brushed it off. The idea of leaving Tomme and Gris to handle everything on their own made him feel guilty, especially when they were already struggling to keep up themselves.
So he kept pushing.
And pushing.
Until eventually he crashed from being overloaded.
It wasn't anything dramatic. One moment he was trying to finish paperwork between patients, and the next he could barely keep his eyes open. His body had finally decided it was done listening to him.
Which was exactly why he failed to notice a particular troublesome ‘nurse’, with a rather raunchy… outfit… if you could call it that… slipping right past him and further into the hospital.
Too exhausted to pay attention, Follo simply continued with what he was doing, completely unaware that someone had just gotten by him without a single question asked.
…
Zanka had been working with a patient who had recently developed a seizure disorder. He was in the middle of reviewing their EEG results while writing up a referral to a neurologist when his pager went off.
Doctor Nijiku to Room 3.
It wasn't that unusual. More often than not, it was Rudo with a question or wanting a second opinion on something before moving forward. Usually nothing serious.
Still, as Zanka excused himself from the patient and stepped into the hallway, a bad feeling settled in his gut.
A really bad feeling.
"Hey, Follo."
Follo looked up from one of the machines he was working on, blinking at him with an exhausted, confused expression.
"Yo?"
"Come with me."
That was all Zanka said before turning and heading down the hall.
Follo stared for a moment before pushing himself upright and following after him. The two walked through the crowded corridors toward Room 3, neither saying much. Zanka's expression had only gotten more suspicious the closer they got.
When they finally reached the room, they noticed the handle slowly turning from the inside.
The door creaked open.
"..."
"..."
Both of them froze.
There, sitting on the hospital bed, was Jabber.
For several long seconds neither Zanka nor Follo said a word.
Jabber was sprawled across the mattress on his side, one knee hiked up as he stared directly at Zanka. Then, to make matters worse, he bit his lip and struck what he probably thought was an attractive pose.
"Yoo-ah!" Jabber grinned. "I'm legit!"
The silence that followed was deafening. Zanka slowly turned his head toward Follo. Follo slowly turned his head toward Zanka. Then both of them looked back at Jabber.
“Why is he allowed back in?” Zanka asked flatly, staring at Follo before gesturing toward the man on the bed. He looked less than pleased.
“Get him out of here immediately. Follo, that psychopath emptied our drug container.”
Zanka didn't even spare Jabber a second glance while saying it, he didn't even acknowledge him. Just immediately wrote him off.. a problem to be removed.
Follo threw his hands up in frustration.
“Me again??”
He scowled at Jabber, looking thoroughly disgusted. ‘I just got here.’ Before he could complain any further, he noticed Zanka already turning to leave the room. Apparently he had decided this was no longer his problem.
Unfortunately, Jabber wasn't about to let that happen.
The man already had a pill in his mouth, casually using his thumb to push it further onto his tongue before swallowing. Then he pouted dramatically.
“My dear Zan-ax! (Hehe get it, Xanax) I do one nice thing for you, and this is how you repay me?” he called after him. “Not even a personal send-off? Ouch. My feelings are devastated~”
He pressed a hand against his chest, looking completely heartbroken despite the obvious lack of sincerity.
“Coward.”
Zanka's eye twitched.
Just once.
Which was probably the biggest reaction Jabber was going to get out of him.
…
Zanka had been tirelessly working on a patient to get him stabilized. Alongside Tamsy, he was doing everything he could to keep up with the relentless blood loss. It felt like every time they got it under control, more appeared.
“Zankaaaaa.”
Zanka's tired eyes immediately narrowed.
He didn't even bother looking up. He already knew what, or rather who, was calling for him.
Tamsy shot him a side glance.
“Well, that's unfortunate,” Tamsy remarked dryly. “Seems you've attracted a pest into the operating room. Poor patient doesn't need that on top of everything else. I'd have expected you to deal with... it.”
Zanka let out a grunt and carefully set down his scalpel. There wasn't much he could say to his superior, and making a scene in the middle of surgery wasn't exactly an option either.
So instead, he pulled off his gloves and turned around.
Sure enough.
Jabber.
Without a word, Zanka grabbed the so-called nurse by the back of his shirt and started dragging him out of the room.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa~!” Jabber protested, though he made absolutely no effort to resist. “If you're taking me out, can it at least be somewhere romantic?”
Zanka ignored him.
Jabber continued rambling as he was hauled down the hallway.
“Seriously, Zan-Zan, do you know how hard it was to sneak in here? I nearly felt unwelcome.”
The moment they reached what Zanka assumed was the safest place to contain him, the break room, he shoved Jabber down into a chair.
“Zankaa!”
Ignoring the complaint, Zanka grabbed a penlight and checked his pupils.
Jabber's eyebrows furrowed immediately, staring up at him with exaggeratedly wounded puppy eyes.
“Damnit, you're bloodshot again, Jabber.”
Zanka walked over to the fridge, grabbed a juice box, and tossed it directly into the taller man's lap.
“Drink up and leave. I don't want to see you back here.”
Jabber visibly deflated.
“Really? That's the welcome I get?” he whined. “I show up to brighten your day and suddenly I'm the bad guy..?”
He clutched the juice box dramatically against his chest.
“Your so-called friends should be thanking me. At least I'm interesting!”
“Interesting isn't the word I'd use.”
Zanka was already pulling a fresh pair of gloves from a box.
“Aw, c'mon, Zan-Zan.”
“No.”
“I haven't even done anything yet.”
“Exactly. I'd like to keep it that way.”
Jabber pouted even harder, somehow managing to look offended and amused at the same time as he finally stabbed the straw into the juice box.
“Awww. You really don't like me here.” He took a loud sip. “And here I thought we were bonding.”