Work Text:
“...civil unrest rises as anomaly cases show no signs of slowing down. Despite city officials attempts to stop the spread, some say that it’s too little, too late.”
You turn off the radio. Bad news brings bad mental and all that. The mostly empty parking lot does nothing to settle the nerves that rose from listening to the broadcast. Note to self: don’t listen to the news before you go to work.
Work. Right. You’re still baffled by how quickly you got the job. Though with the situation right now, you can hardly blame the Animal Hospital for hiring pre-med students. Maybe all the qualified personnel died. The thought comes before you can stop it.
Shaking your head, you finally turn off your car and get out. No use in staying there any longer. Your shift isn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes, but who knows. Maybe they’ll like you being early.
The AC blasting your face makes your fur rise as soon as you step inside. It’s a welcome contrast to the humidity of the outside, though. No one’s in the lobby, but you can see two others sitting inside the front desk area.
The blue dog right at the desk looks at you as you approach. “Are you here for an appointment?”
“Oh, um, no. I’m actually—”
“One of the new interns, right.” His voice drawls like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Jerking his head, he continues, “Come on in.”
Nodding, you head towards the door and walk in. The other person, it turns out, is an intern like you, if their jumpsuit is any indication. They look up as you enter, mouth pressed into a thin line. You nod in greeting, and then awkwardly shuffle to an unoccupied corner when they continue staring.
The silence that follows is suffocating. You have the feeling something should be happening, that there’s an absence where there shouldn’t be. You pick at the ends of your sleeves, watching the second hand tick away in the clock.
The secretary suddenly curses, startling you. You look over at him. He’s staring at his phone, face set in a snarl. “Of all the fucking—” He sighs roughly. “God damn it.”
“Um, is everything okay?”
“When is anything okay around here?” Your heart sinks a bit at the answer. Even though he’s not looking, he must’ve realized how harsh he sounded. His next sigh is less rough, still suffering.
“Our replacement nurse died in an anomaly attack yesterday. Which I’m only just finding out now, because why does anyone ever—no, no. Sorry. Off topic.”
“Is anyone coming?” You look at the other intern. Their face is grim, eyes dark and murky.
“In a few nights. Hopefully. Which means that you two are on your own.”
If your heart had sunk before, it was now in the deepest pit imaginable. On your own? On your first day? Dealing with those things?
For a moment, you imagine turning tail and running. It wouldn’t be very difficult. You can always find a different job. There’s plenty of openings in all sorts of fields. Your mom did always say you’d make a killing as a chef.
But you came here for a reason. You can’t leave. Not now. Possibly not ever.
"Alright then." The secretary swivels in his seat, turning to the two of you. "We'll keep the emergency wing closed for now. Divide the rooms in medical among yourselves. Usually I'd page you, but... Well, just stay there and wait for the room number to light up."
You look over to your fellow intern. That grim expression is still set on their face, and you jump when their eyes slide over to yours. "I'll take the left rooms," they say. It sounds less like a suggestion and more like a definitive answer.
Still, you nod, rubbing your nose to unsuccessfully hide the twitching. This is good, you tell yourself. The right rooms are even numbers. Even numbers have always been your lucky numbers.
"Great. Don't forget to have a coffee break every so often. You'll need it."
You knew the Animal Hospital had... unique ways of treating patients.
You just didn’t anticipate how unique.
Did you really need to come here for low blood sugar? The maple syrup bottle is heavy in your hand as you walk back to room 2. Really, this seemed like a problem for her regular doctor.
Sadie Mae is still laying down when you get back. She looks over at the sound of the door opening, eyes brightening when she sees what’s in your hand. “Oh, I knew you’d have it here!”
If you knew then why didn’t you just—
You take a deep breath and smile shakily. “Of course, ma’am. If you’ll please sit up...”
She practically snatches the bottle from your hands and downs it in one go. You shudder, averting your eyes from the display. How someone could chug something so sticky and sweet... just the thought of doing it makes you want to gag.
The screen dings as the treatment is completed. Sadie Mae lays back, eyes closed with a content smile. You figure she’ll probably need a moment or two to recover completely. You leave the room quietly, shutting the door as gently as possible. As soon as you do, you move over to the side and immediately slump against the wall.
It’s hitting you now. Before, it was small taps against your heart, your mind. But now? It’s a flood, your knees shaking as you cover your face and try to breathe.
The patients so far have been fine. Normal. The treatments are weird, nothing like what you’ve learned in class, but they work. Your coworker, from what little you see of them moving from room to room, shows no sign of distress or discomfort. You hear the shutters from the front desk close every so often. Everyone is just... fine.
Everyone is fine with this.
“Hey.”
You startle, swallowing a yelp as you look up. Your coworker’s standing in front of you, a cup of coffee held in hand. Their mouth is still set into a line, you notice, before realizing they’re holding the cup out. To you. They’re holding the cup out to you.
“You look like you need this,” they say, not unkind. A statement with no judgment. Your hands, curse them, shake as you reach to grab the mug.
“Thank you,” you respond quietly, taking a sip. You’ve never really liked coffee, especially not black, but somehow it soothes your nerves anyway. You nurse it carefully, trying to focus on the bitter taste and not anything else.
“Paul says we’re taking a break until Dr. Harlow gets here.”
You hum, storing the name away for later. Paul. You completely forgot to ask for his name. The realization makes you choke a bit, painfully swallowing down the last bit of coffee.
“Um, this is probably really awkward but, uh... I never got your name...?”
They stare at you. You resist the urge to twitch, rubbing your fingers against warm ceramic. After a few more seconds of it, they answer. “Dusty.”
You nod. You open your mouth, clear your throat, and try again. “Basil.”
Dusty looks you over. “Bit on the nose, isn’t it?”
For the first time tonight — maybe even today — you laugh, quiet and unsteady. “Yeah... my, uh, my parents named all of us after plants.”
Before they can say anything, the intercom crackles to life. “Dr. Harlow is arriving,” a woman announces. The two of you look at each other. Well that was a short break.
Pushing yourself off the wall, and only stumbling a bit to regain your balance, you follow Dusty back to the front desk. An older deer dressed in a lab coat and mask is standing there, talking to Paul. Dr. Harlow looks your way as you two approach.
“Ah, you two must be the new hires.” His tone is joyful, weary. He leans over to Paul and very much not inconspicuously asks, “I thought there were two more?”
“There are,” Paul drawls. “They don’t work today.”
Dr. Harlow nods. “Ah, no matter. I hope today wasn’t too stressful for you?”
I feel like dying.
“No sir,” Dusty answers. You nod in agreement.
“Good, good. Keep up the great work.”
Just like that he begins to walk away, only for Paul to shout, “Wait a minute!” He stands up from his chair, exiting the room.
“You told me the crew to repair the cameras would be here today. Where the hell are they?”
Dr. Harlow seems taken aback for a brief second. “I’m sorry, Paul. I truly am. The company is a bit short-staffed since that last anomaly attack—”
“Everyone is short-staffed right now! How am I supposed to do my job if—”
Dr. Harlow puts his hand on Paul’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “I understand your concern. They’ll be here. I promise.”
You shuffle, turning away from the scene. For whatever reason, you get the feeling you shouldn’t be looking at this. Dusty must feel the same, for maybe they just don’t care. They duck into the room and take the coffee pot, pouring themself a cup.
Well, another cup yourself probably won’t hurt. You follow their lead, pouring yourself half a cup this time. You really, really hate the taste of it.
The rest of Dr. Harlow and Paul’s conversation is muffled by the wall. Eventually though, after a minute or two, Paul comes back into the room looking worse for wear. You think you hear him mumble “I can’t keep doing this.” You look back at the coffee machine. It’s not a lot, but maybe it’ll help.
Paul blinks at you as you offer him the cup. He takes it, placing it on the desk rather than drinking it. “Thanks. I didn’t expect him to come so soon. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, no, it—it’s fine!” You wave your free hand to emphasize your point. “This is what we signed up for and all.”
“...right. Just make sure to stay on your toes. I can get most of them.”
But not all. Your nose is twitching again. You smell your coffee, drinking the last little bit. It’s just a few more hours. A few more hours, and then you can go home. You could do this.
I can do this.
The intercom crackles.
“A ritual has started in room 2.”
...fuck.