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The Intern didn't belong at the hospital.
They knew it. Dr. Harlow surely knew it. The Agent most definitely knew it. It was why he kept such a close eye on them, after all. They weren't quite the sort of hostile Anomaly that he and the Security Guard were hired to kill, but it was only a matter of time before they were. They didn't know how much time they had left, but they could feel the weight of the timer ticking down, reminding them day in and day out of their looming fate.
They tried to ignore it. They occupied themself with shenanigans that made their coworkers laugh or groan or shake their heads. They filled the silence between tasks, not just with words, but with silly actions. They did their job, too, of course, but just doing their job wasn't enough. They needed to stay distracted. They needed to stay silly.
…
…
…
Staying silly was easier said than done. They could hear the gunshots echoing in the halls: a cruel reminder of what would inevitably become of them. They'd gotten used to the sound enough so that their paws didn't shake too badly while tending to the patients, but it still got to them, deep down. With every loud bang, they could so clearly see the image of an Anomaly being taken down, corrupted blood pooling beneath them and soaking deep into their fur… And with every loud bang, they couldn't help but see themself on the receiving end of a bullet.
They knew it was for the greater good. The Agent and the Security Guard were just doing their best to protect the hospital and everyone within its walls. But, somehow, reminding themself of that didn't make it better. Somehow, it made them feel worse.
But this wasn't the time for thoughts like that. There was no time for thoughts like that. The Intern was in the middle of tending to a patient, and they needed to pay attention. They could feel how tense their shoulders were, and they could feel their heart mingling with their stomach. They could feel their lungs working overtime. But the patient was more important. They had to focus on the patient.
Carefully, just as the Head Nurse had taught them, they secured an IV to the patient. With that done, the next step was to administer painkillers, which meant they had to venture out into the hall to get them.
The Ache Remedies cabinet wasn't too far away. It was rather close by, in fact. But having to go where a fellow Anomaly was just shot… that was never one of their favorite parts of the shift. But such was life. They had to do what they had to do.
They didn't trust their voice not to break into an Anomaly's screech, right then, though, so they did a hand motion to assure the patient they'd be right back, then left the room.
…
Out of sight of the patient, the Intern rested their head against the Ache Remedies cabinet, taking a moment to at least try to steady their breathing. They didn't want to fall into a full panic in front of the patient, but they could feel their composure hanging on by a thread.
At least the Anomaly's body had already been disposed of by the time they'd gotten there… They were lucky that their coworkers worked fast. Even if the blood hadn't quite been taken care of yet, seeing it alone was leagues better than seeing the actual corpse.
The actual corpse…
No, no. They needed to not think about it. They needed to focus on something else. It wasn't like this whole ordeal was a new occurrence. They'd dealt with it before. Just…
…
…
…
Coffee. Maybe they just needed some coffee. Ron from Accounting always said that coffee helped keep one's sanity in check. Maybe that was just what they needed.
Yeah… Yeah, they just needed a cup of coffee, and their shot nerves would return to normal.
To the check-in office they went.
…
…
…
The Intern hated being in the check-in office. Being there meant getting a front-row seat to the Secretary turning away Anomalies left and right. It was better than seeing them die, at least, but it served as another reminder. This whole place was a reminder, if they thought about it too hard.
They just needed to stop thinking.
They just needed some coffee.
…
…
…
The Intern snuck in through the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Even with the cameras, it should’ve been easy. They were known to sneak up on people without realizing it, to the point where the Agent had suggested that they wear a bell collar to signal their arrival. Whether he'd been joking or not was unclear. Regardless, their footsteps didn't alert the Secretary to their presence, but the creak of the door did. They really needed to oil the hinges…
“Intern?” the Secretary said. They looked up from their paperwork.
The Intern froze. They gave them an awkward wave and an awkward laugh, sweatdropping as they did so.
“I thought you were supposed to be with the patients,” the Secretary said, raising a brow.
The Intern awkwardly pointed at the coffee machine.
“Ah,” the Secretary said. They took a sip of their own coffee. “Go for it, then.”
The Intern nodded. They poured themself a cup of coffee and immediately downed the whole thing, not waiting a moment for it to cool down. There was steam coming out of their mouth by the time they were done.
The Secretary couldn't help but look at them with a mixture of confusion and concern, but they didn't say anything. They'd heard that the Intern was… an interesting specimen, to say the least, so maybe this was normal for them? They didn't feel like questioning it too hard. They went back to their paperwork.
The Intern wasn't sure if they felt better after their short coffee break, but it didn't matter. They had to get back to work.
They waved goodbye to the Secretary, who gave a halfhearted wave in return. Then, it was back to business.
…
The Intern grabbed the painkillers they needed and went back to the patient's room. The patient had been waiting patiently, just laying there, in bed.
“Sorry,” the Intern signed. Their mouth remained in the same stupid grin it was always stuck in, but they hoped they somehow came across as genuine, anyway. Without waiting for a response, they helped the patient sit up and gave them their medicine alongside a cup of water to help it go down easier.
Once that was said and done, all that was left was to let the patient rest and recover. The Intern was supposed to move onto the next patient, then, but…
To the Employee's Only area they decided to go. They needed to get away from the main area. The coffee, decidedly, wasn't helping as much as they’d hoped it would. They couldn't let any other patients see them like this. They had to go.
…
They'd almost managed to get away. Their paw was on the door handle when they heard a voice coming from behind them, and it was a voice they'd recognize anywhere.
“Going somewhere?” the Agent asked, arms crossed. His tail moved as he spoke, emphasizing the question.
In turn, the Intern simply froze.
The Agent leaned forward, looking to see the Intern's expression. Despite them being cursed to eternally bear a smile, he could tell from their eyes and their brows what emotions were really brewing under the surface.
“You seem stressed,” he said, simply.
The Intern gave a strained, stressed chuckle.
After a moment, the Agent looked down at the Intern's paw, knuckles white with how hard they were holding onto the handle. It only took a light tap, though, for them to let go, flinching away from the contact.
The Agent's brow furrowed with concern, but he said nothing. He simply opened the door for them, waiting, expectantly, for them to enter.
It took a moment for the Intern to get the hint, but, once they did, they bolted inside. The Agent watched them run for the Employee Lounge before following behind them, his own steps calm and slow. He made sure to close the doors behind them both.
The Intern had sat down in one of the chairs, ears flattened, and face nearly covered by their hood. Their foot was thumping loudly against the ground: a warning to anyone in earshot to stay away. In their mind, they weren't fit to be in anyone's company. It'd be better if everyone just left them alone, at least until they could force their emotions back down and regain their composure.
The Agent, of course, was having none of that. Despite the warning, he made his way over to the Intern: steps still slow and steady. He didn't want to scare the Intern more than they'd already been scared.
Even so, the Intern flinched away. The Agent, in turn, stopped for a moment. Even though their smile never left their face, the Intern's fear was palpable.
A moment passed like that: with neither employee daring to move closer. But then, the Agent reached out.
The Intern flinched away again, but suddenly calmed, just a bit, once the Agent's paw met their cheek.
Then, the Agent started to purr. It was a quiet sound, made not of his own contentment, but as a way to gently soothe the Intern's frazzled nerves. And despite the Intern's initial reaction to the Agent's presence, it was working.
It felt so… nice. It wasn't something the Intern was used to, and it wasn't something they felt they deserved, but it was something they never wanted to let go of. The sound of the Agent’s purring… the feeling of the Agent’s paw pads against their fur… the love and care in the Agent's eyes… It was all so gentle, done without a hint of fear on the Agent's part. And that was something that the Intern didn't understand. Why wasn't the Agent afraid of them? They knew he knew what they were. They knew he knew what they were doomed to become… didn't he?
Of course he did.
Keeping tabs on the Intern was an integral part of his assignment, after all. He was more than aware of what lurked inside, and yet… there he was, regarding them with such tender warmth. Higher-ups be damned, his mission had changed. He wasn't sure when the change had happened, but no longer was he simply to watch them. He was to watch over them. He was to care for and protect them, no matter the cost.
Soon enough, the sound of the Intern's stomping faded, replaced with the sweet melody of their own purring, echoing the Agent's. It brought a smile to the Agent's face.
…
A light tug of his sleeve snapped the Agent out of his reverie. He looked down at the Intern's paw, then at the Intern's face, tilting his head in curiosity.
“Thank you,” the Intern signed.
The Agent let out a light chuckle. He moved his paw from the Intern's cheek to the top of their head, pulling down their hood and then ruffling their fur, and making a mess of it.
“Of course,” he said. “‘Glad you're feelin' better.”
Before the Intern could sign anything more in response, they felt a soft kiss being planted on their forehead. Their face went bright red with blush, and the ensuing giggles from the Agent at their reaction filled their ears.
Part of them wanted to be upset by the laughter, but they couldn't bring themself to feel anything but affection towards it. The sound was so cute to them, and so was the Agent's own stupid grin. They could feel their chest welling up with some sort of warmth, just looking at him.
Was this what love felt like?
…
The rest of the shift was about as uneventful as a shift at the hospital could be. There were no further Anomaly incidents, though the Head Nurse did give the Secretary an earful for having let an Anomaly through, earlier. A couple of the rooms spontaneously caught on fire, and Barney kept asking for coffee, — much to the chagrin of nearly everyone in the office, at the time — but it was nothing the staff weren't used to. Despite the chaos, things were under control.
Throughout the remainder of the shift, the Agent kept an eye on the Intern, making sure that they'd be okay. To anyone else, the constant, watchful eyes probably would’ve been unsettling, at best, but to the Intern, they came bundled with the feeling of safety.
Even if, one day, they’d be doomed to die at the hands of the Agent's gun, they took solace in the idea that the Agent’s face would be the last thing they ever saw. If his eyes were the ones that saw them off to the afterlife, that'd be enough. If their death would be so kind, they'd be happy.