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#i was wanting to switch to all online classes but was swiftly reminded how much the website sucks
nylarac · 9 months
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suffering
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raeofstarshine · 3 years
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Happy Birthday Sage! @thisstableground
This may be a terrible present, and I’ve never posted fic online anywhere before, but for some reason this idea demanded to be written and so I present to you: Dr Ruben Marcado’s first day at Independence Memorial Hospital, as imagined by yours truly!
“And finally, this is the lab.” The woman pushed open a glass door with the words “Department of Pathology” written across it. Several people looked up as they entered the room, and Ruben studiously examined the stack of paperwork in his hands to avoid their stares. Since he had arrived at the hospital at 9am that morning, he had felt distinctly out of place, the laminated badge that identified him as a member of staff tapping uncomfortably on his chest every time he moved. He didn’t yet have a white lab coat embroidered with his name like everyone else, and it reminded him of the time his mother had taken him to visit a different school when he was nine. He had worn his favourite sweater, soft and pale green from washing and completely in contrast to the dark blue uniform of the students. 
“There are smaller classes here, better teachers. They’ll be able to help you more.” she had said, but Ruben had never needed the teachers’ help, so why did that matter? He could feel the other students watching him all day, their eyes itching his skin, and when they got in the car to go home he told his mother he didn’t want to change schools. He may not fit in at his current school, but for the most part nobody noticed him. He preferred that to standing out.  
Of course, Ruben couldn’t help but stand out now. He followed the administrator - Dr Young? - to an office at the back of the large room. With the lights off and the blinds down, it looked as though it hadn’t been used in a while. This impression was reinforced when Dr Young flipped the light switch, only for a single dim halogen bulb to flicker into life. She frowned. 
“The extensions for maintenance and cleaning are in your welcome pack. This is your office, the door code is in your pack as well. Feel free to arrange it however you like.” She surveyed the room a final time, then turned to Ruben, who was looking at the various pieces of equipment on the workbench. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. If you need anything, call my office and my assistant will help you.” Ruben realised half a second late that she was holding out her hand for him to shake. 
Moments later, he was alone in the dark office. A thousand thoughts chased each other down in his brain. He swiftly ran through every moment of the last four hours of introductions and admin and touring the hospital, names and paperwork and procedures and desperate hope that he was making a good impression. Should he have asked more questions? Dr Young had been pretty comprehensive, but employers liked it when you asked questions, it showed initiative, right? Or did that only apply in interviews? Ruben caught himself before his thoughts could spiral too far. Setting the paperwork down on the dusty countertop next to the door, he looked around, trying to reconcile the unfamiliar environment with the idea that this space was now his. It was spacious for an office, but small for a lab, and he wondered what its original purpose had been. An isolated area for handling hazardous chemicals maybe? That would explain the big, double glazed windows and the keypad on the door. It reminded him a little of a foreman’s office in a factory, looking out on the production line of diagnostic equipment. 
For a moment, he lingered on the idea. The whole outer lab full of his employees, working on his projects, his ideas. Ruben wasn’t sure he’d make a good boss - that required leadership skills and management skills and all sorts of things that were much less easy to understand than chemicals and molecules and experiments. He sighed quietly. Future career prospects were a problem for future Ruben. Present Ruben needed food, and coffee, and he couldn’t remember how to get to the cafeteria. As he was trying to figure out how to find it without having to ask one of the technicians, a young woman knocked and stuck her head in the still-open door. She looked to be around the same age as Ruben, making her one of the youngest in the lab, and she had a nervous but friendly looking smile. 
“Hi! I’m Connie, I’m a pathology PhD student here. You must be feeling pretty overwhelmed, huh? I only started six months ago, so I remember what it’s like. A thousand different bits of paper, a whirlwind tour - and you had Dr Young too, she can be pretty intense. How’re you holding up?” Ruben took a few seconds to reply, but she waited patiently. He responded with the only thing he could think of.
“I’m starving.” Connie laughed. 
“Leave it to Dr Young to forget about lunch! There’s vending machines in the hall, or you can get free meals in the canteen. Do you want me to show you?” Ruben nodded, glad he hadn’t had to ask. Then, not wanting to be perceived as rude, he added,
“If it’s not any bother, that would be great, thank you.” She grinned at him and led the way out of the lab. 
“This way then. Nice to meet you…”
“Oh, Ruben. Ruben Marcado.”
“Nice to meet you Ruben. And welcome to Independence Memorial! I’m sure you’ll do great things here.” Her words stirred that old instinct in Ruben, the urge to blend in, to replace his soft greenness with itchy blue camouflage. He pushed it back. He wasn’t here to be average. He was here to do what he was best at, to do what he loved, to help people. Wasn’t that worth the discomfort that came with it?
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