Work Text:
There's something down the hall.
##### cannot get that idea out of their head, nerves jittering, hands, every sense on full alert, itching, twitchy. Really, it isnt just an idea. It's the full truth, isn't it? You learn that on your first day here. No. Your first hour. You also learn to observe the people here, those few co-workers, with all their cryptic warnings and attitudes. They all act like they somehow know something that ##### doesn't. There's nothing that could be. They've seen it all.
They twitch, grasping around for their coffee mug, dot eyes fixed on the floor tiles. They lift the mug to their mouth, and. Its empty. Their eyes constrict. More coffee is brewing, they forgot. Luckily it is. After stopping, they bring the mug back up to their mouth. It takes a few seconds, but at last, one singular measly drop slides, dropping down into their mouth. Intern slams the mug back down onto the desk. Maybe they're stupid for actually wanting to get a full, real job here. Absolutely crazy for wanting to work in a place like this. Its not safe. But it might be the safest place they can get. Alot would've given up, go running for the hills, far far from this hospital, this town. But they're different, they suppose. In alot of ways. They've really fallen into routine here, and routine is good. And it tastes especially good knowing you're helping people.
Their body spasms, a full-on jolt, intentional. Involuntary. Their hand goes loose around the mug--- it clatters off the desk. Nothing to spill fortunately, but maybe not so fortunate because it shatters so loud, ceramic shards at their feet. That's a hazard. They liked that mug too. They wince, looks around. But even still, no one comes. None of the nurses, no one. ###### knows they would've come running if they'd heard that shattering, maybe they're just different from the others in that way.
The pieces gleam in florecent light, who knew broken ceramic could be so shiny? Their heart continues pounding, hitting in their chest, strange.
Why had their hand done that? Then again, it has been a long day, very long, long shift, long night, and its safe to say that they're tired. Is that so un-understandable?
When they start thinking like this, its a sign that what they needs is another cup of coffee right about now! That muted, bitter taste, that seems to linger on your teeth. Yes. Well, another mug first, it wouldnt work to scald their hands while trying to cup the coffee flowing from the coffee machine, would it? Not ideal, they don't want to come in for that. Still, could work.
Now that prospect certainly gets them up, chair squeaking. Coffee. They're still a good worker, don't get them wrong! Its just anything outside of the front office feels strange right now. They stretch their arms above their head, before scurrying over to the coffee machine—luckily, by now the coffee pot is nearly full, a slap to the coffee maker and it should be done in about minute or two. They pick up a spare mug and waits.
They often like to listen around, fuzzy ears perked. The air in the hospital seems to press in, the whisper of the air conditioning amplified in the deathly quiet that's fallen over every room.
This should all be unnerving, its abnormal for it to be so quiet this long, even at night. But its not. They can't bring themselves to care. Maybe that's something else that makes them different from the others. The coffee maker gurgles, and they watch intently as the lazy dripping slows. The overhead lights flicker
The mug clatters from their hand. It's like a barriers fallen, that last, final thread holding them snipped.
They drool.
The coffee pot steams, the liquid surely scalding. Everything else is a blind spot. Irrelevant.
Their jaw unhinges, saliva threading on tapered teeth, and they swallow. Something in them still recongizes that it burns, that it's scalding them, but when the sheer euphoria hits, it all dissipates.
They're a good worker. An excellent worker, really. Everyone working here knows how hardworking they are! They look towards the window, snagging a glance at a wide-eyed Molly stood there, petrified at the front. They wipe their mouth clean, pick a fallen glass chunk from their fur and step up to the window to get this new patient all checked in.