[IC] Buying Life [Shoshin and mmidnight]

[Shoshin]

Drink coffee - do stupid things faster with more energy! Never be latte again!

The sign - complete with a cartoon of a maniacally grinning man - was displayed outside the interestingly named "Daily Grind" cafe where a queue of assorted individuals snaked out the double glass doors and onto the street. People checked their watches, yawned, shook their heads and complained grudgingly. There was even an interesting specimen at the queue's rear, talking loudly on his cellphone about how he was going to close a million-dollar deal. Behind that self-assured corporate drone, Gabriel Morris, M.D. wished there was some way to exorcize the man's pompous, grating voice from his head. After a series of routine angioplasties, a combination of exhaustion and disruption of mood meant there was only one possible remedy.

More coffee.

Rolling up the sleeves of his crisply-ironed shirt, Gabriel - who was referred to at the hospital as Gabe by his esteemed colleagues and Dr. Morris by residents and oppressed interns - expelled a muted groan of annoyance as Mr. Wall Street's frenzied chattering heightened in pitch. At least the queue's moving, he thought in an attempt to dissuade himself from kindly telling the man to shut his trap - albeit not in such friendly terms. Having finally made it inside the cafe, he found it clustered with the usual crowd - college students, working professionals, and even the odd family or two bearing backpacks and baseball caps. The cacophonous mixture of voices only served to magnify his pounding, caffeine-withdrawal headache. It provided an odd kind of amusement for him to know he resided in the "city that never sleeps". A true child of NYC if there ever was one. Clutched in his palm, his cellphone buzzed, the popup indicating he'd received a message from "V".

New shipment soon.

A brief, serious frown crossed Gabriel's face, but was quickly dispelled as the overeager businessman finally ordered his extra-something-soy-something latte with chocolate sauce. Returning the cell to his pocket, Gabe stepped up just in time to flash the pretty barista a disarming grin, cranking the charm to full throttle. "Triple Americano." The woman looked surprised at the fact that he didn't rattle off something that sounded like a grocery list, and asked for his name with marker poised and ready. "Gabriel," he answered, feeling a yawn get lodged somewhere in his throat. No milk, no sugar, bitter as hell. Just how he liked it. The barista placed the cup aside and rolled off the price with a winsome smile. Hell-o. He probably would've had a decent chance at getting her number, but at the instant his hand touched his right pocket, he reached a terrible realization. His wallet wasn't there. His shiny, brand-name leather wallet.

Well, shit.

"Sir?" The barista was still smiling, though said smile was growing increasingly forced. He could practically feel the hostility of those waiting behind him, their eyes burning smoking holes into his back. Someone cleared their throat - loudly. It looked more and more likely that he'd just have to walk away, a pathetic bid in preserving the shredded remnants of his dignity. He could hear it already - guy in the thousand-dollar suit can't even pay for his cup of morning coffee. Thoroughly embarrassed, he ran a hand through his head of dark hair, hazel gaze returning to the confused woman drumming her fingers against the countertop. Her mounting impatience was far too obvious now. Feet were tapping rapidly on polished linoleum, voices muttering lowly.

"Uh, we might have a tiny little problem here. I seem to have left my wallet at my workplace." He tried to look apologetic, but inside he was cursing himself out for leaving work in an exhausted haze. He'd barely been able to make the short drive home before collapsing on his bed and blacking out. Several meager hours later, he'd been roused by the triumphant screech of his alarm, all too ready to fling him into another day of guts and glory. "Look - maybe we can work something out. You give me my coffee, I'll come by later and pay what's owed. If it helps any, I work just across the street." He gestured to make his point.

The barista's meticulously plucked eyebrows shot straight up. "Nice try."

Gabe sighed. It was going to be a long day.

[mmidnight]

New York: the city that never sleeps. It could easily be compared to a med student, they didn't get much sleep either and James Allen ought to know. The now thirty year old man had spent the last part of a decade and some change in school, studying, working his ass off and learning all he could. It had been a process, but those long hours of dedication, and all that time spent with his nose in an anatomy book instead of out at a party were finally starting to pay off.

Residency was the one thing that a medical student waited for. It was the end of an era, and a start of a new beginning, the road to a promising and hopefully successful career. Being accepted into a residency program at any hospital was a milestone on its own, but it was just a little bit sweeter to be brought into a top facility, something that would look good and prestigious on a resume. The bragging rights were an added bonus, the cherry on top when all was said and done. Finally, James had something interesting to talk about when meeting new people, he could say that he did more than slave away in a lab all day.

The morning was bright and fresh, not a cloud in the sky as James walked along the crowded streets of the Big Apple, mostly keeping to himself as he listened a playlist on his iPod. Today was his first day at the hospital, and the sandy-haired man was appropriately excited and nervous as he made his way uptown. Having only woken up and left his apartment a full fifteen minutes ago, James knew that he was going to need a cup of coffee to get him through the first few hours of the day. Nerves and adrenaline could only do so much, and caffeine had become such a staple in his daily life—it would feel weird to miss it.

Luckily for James, there was a coffee shop right across the street from the hospital. The Daily Grind was a popular spot in the morning, the first stop for many in their long day, and the line out the door reflected that. The tall, soon-to-be-doctor had time to spare and didn't think twice about queuing up with the others, minding his own business as the pleasant sounds of indie rock continued to play in his ears. His own noise drowned out the chatter of people on cell phones, and the noises of the street; all of the honking and shouting, the screeching of tires. Never a moment of silence.

The line seemed to move rather quickly, and soon, James was inside and approaching the counter. He had enough common sense to remove his earbuds before ordering his coffee, which was nothing special. “Coffee, light,” he told the woman behind the counter, who seemed a bit relieved that she didn't have to make a complicated drink. James was a simple guy for the most part, and was happy to drink his coffee with just a little extra milk.

After giving his name and paying, the blue-eyed man stepped to the side to wait for his drink, and in the meantime, he listened to the complicated order of the Wall Street type who had been in line behind him. Soy and chocolate sauce didn't go together in James' mind, and he thought it was a little too early for all of that sugar, but he wasn't one to judge.

In no time at all, his coffee had arrived in front of him, steaming and smelling perfect with one of those little sleeves around the cup. He popped the lid off and added in his own sugar, only two packets. Poised to place his earbud back in, and resume his first day playlist, James happened to look over at the scene in front of the counter. Some guy in a nice suit was claiming to have forgotten his wallet, and the line behind the man groaned in frustration. New Yorkers were far from the most patient bunch in the world. James was feeling generous that day, maybe this would earn him some good karma, even if he didn't believe that the man in the suit was actually without cash.

“I got it,” he spoke up, stepping in and reaching into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. The woman behind the counter didn't put up a fuss, and James suspected that it didn't matter who paid as long as the line kept moving. “I've forgotten my wallet before,” he mentioned with a friendly smile as he accepted his change from the woman.

[Shoshin]

"Come on, it's a Monday!" Gabriel hadn't been feeling particularly argumentative, but the fact remained that he'd just been in line for the better part of an hour. That, and caffeine deprivation was a serious condition, as far as he was concerned. He had to be able to work, and to be able to work, he had to stay focused. It was hard to maintain that focus when he hardly enjoyed three hours of sleep the previous night. One of the caveats regarding work as a medical professional was that emergencies could occur at practically any time, and with one straightforward call, you were expected to just drop whatever it was you were doing - a date, lunch with your parents, stay-at-home Netflix - and rush over. The barista fixed him with a glare so sharp, he thought he felt its point settle right between his eyes.

"I got it."

Gabe's attention shifted in surprise as in stepped an unexpected benefactor. The man shelled out the cash like he'd been doing charity work all his life, and the barista handed Gabe the receipt with a condescending stare before motioning the next customer forward. Was he embarrassed? Sure as hell. Was he relieved? Definitely. The stranger had saved him the trouble of having to come back later, and even then he wasn't sure if he had time to. Rounds needed to be made, charts updated, residents tested. And V...he definitely needed to arrange a meeting. But not now. Later. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon his shoulders as he made his way to the far end of the counter, shrugging loosely as he turned to his deliverer.

"Thanks, appreciate it." Gabriel inclined his head with a polite smile as he swiped his fresh brew from the countertop, relishing in the cup's radiating warmth. Nothing better than a hot cuppa on a cool morning. The guy who'd helped him seemed younger, upbeat, complete with jeans and a set of earbuds to drown out the noise. Gabe made a mental note to upgrade the ancient mp3 player currently taking residence in his apartment drawer, and to bring its replacement along the next time he had to deal with unwanted, relentless aural assault. Besides, the Rolling Stones would be a great start to his day, unlike the unfortunate circumstances surrounding the start of this particular day. "Headed to work?" He questioned in an attempt at making casual conversation.

In retrospect, the answer was pretty obvious, but hey - he didn't see the harm in making friends.

[mmidnight]

Paying it forward, and being charitable hadn't always been a philosophy that James had lived by. It was only within the last two years that he had really started to give back, his guilty conscience getting the better of him after his father's indictment. It was hard to think that the best of everything he had while growing up had been afforded by organized crime, scum that broke the backs of put upon people, only to prop up the rich. That was a deciding factor in distancing himself from the whole family—moving away, changing his last name-- that was only the beginning. Now there was charity work, getting involved in his community and giving back, and now that included paying for some stranger's coffee.

Apparently, the gesture surprised the man and James chuckled to himself over the look on his face. He supposed, in a place like New York, random acts of kindness were few and far between when it came to rush hour. Discarding his red, coffee stirrer into the trash bin before replacing the lid on his cup. “No problem,” he replied easily, appreciating that this guy at least had some manners. Far too often he had encountered rude people around the city, and as someone who came from D.C., he really didn't understand it.

It was now James' turn to be surprised as the handsome stranger with good taste continued the conversation. It was small talk, sure, but James didn't mind. He didn't have many friends since moving to the city, and it had been hard for him to meet new people. With the exception of a few friends and a guy who lived in his apartment building, James was alone and that got painfully boring way too often. If this man was reaching out, James would gladly reach back.

“Yeah, across the street actually,” he said, nodding toward the hospital that could be seen out the window. “It's my first day. Where are you headed?” He guessed somewhere a little more uptown, probably in an office building, or possibly to bed—the guy looked a little tired.

[Shoshin]

Gabriel had to shake himself to see if he'd heard right. Across the street? There were a couple of buildings across the street, including several fancy law offices and the like. Maybe this guy worked at one of those; or maybe not - he seemed really casual, laid back. Not the type that would -

Wait. Hang on a tick. He was nodding and looking towards the hospital. There was no doubting it now.

"The hospital? Well, that's one hell of a coincidence." Those thoughts were meant to be private, but he ended up uttering them anyway. What were the odds? And yet, that realization only made the situation more embarrassing - for Gabe, at least. At the hospital, he'd always been known as a hardass. He gave the interns no quarter, and questioned some residents to the extent that they devolved into fits of nervous sputtering. There, he hardly ever smiled. He was cordial, to be sure, but always maintained a stern, professional exterior some interpreted as "coldness". Mention the name "Dr. Morris" anywhere in those halls and no doubt there'd be someone who hated him, but still managed some form of grudging respect. Nevertheless, the hospital wasn't a "one specialty" sort of place. This interesting stranger could be working anything from ortho to ENT.

"Sorry, that was rude of me. I'm Dr. Gabriel Morris - I work at the hospital. Cardiothoracic surgery. I was just...surprised. These sorts of things don't usually happen to me." He shrugged, taking a generous swig of his coffee. Being a doctor was hard work, and hard work deserved a generous, caffeinated reward. The coffee was still hot, but not hot enough to singe his tongue. Utter perfection. Having never been in a long-term relationship, he sometimes liked to think, jokingly, that he already had a significant other. Two significant others, who didn't seem to mind the other's existence. Coffee, and his career. They seemed to go well together.

And besides, meeting fellow doctors was always a good opportunity for networking. Many of the nation's top medical professionals had chosen to work at this very hospital, giving it an amazing track record. It had top-notch facilities, friendly employees and was as luxurious as a place smelling of disinfectant could probably be. Some of the wealthiest people depended on this very hospital, and as a result, the pay was good. And it better be, considering the hours he had to work. "So, you're a transfer? What hospital did you work with previously? What's your specialty?" Maybe he'd fired off those questions a bit too enthusiastically, but he had his reasons. "Oh, and I didn't get your name."

[mmidnight]

James took another drink from his coffee cup, finding the beige liquid inside was the perfect temperature to not completely scald his mouth. He savored the taste as he listened to the other man, agreeing that it was coincidental that they would both be heading over to the hospital. For some reason, the sandy-haired man hadn't expected to meet anyone who worked across the street at the coffee shop, even though it made sense for the staff to flock to the nearest source of quality caffeine. In a way, it was nice to have met someone already, it made a new environment a little less intimidating.

Even more of a coincidence was Gabriel's field of study, and that only piqued James' interest further. If it weren't for how rapidly the other man was speaking, James would have already introduced himself. In the high-pressure world of medicine, it wasn't uncommon for people to be all about themselves in their free time and during medical school, James had been guilty of it himself. Every now and then he forgot how to relate to people, and long nights of studying had eroded a few of his social graces. He didn't blame Gabriel for his fast-talking introduction, but he was a little embarrassed about having to explain who he wasn't.

“I'm actually a resident,” said James, followed by a small laugh as he got the door for Gabriel on their way out. “But my specialty is going to be cardiology. It's a little early for all of these coincidences, don't you think?” That had been his attempt at a joke, but he was a little worried that Doctor Morris would no longer be interested in the conversation now that he knew James was a lowly first year resident.

Taking another sip of his coffee, James cleared his throat. “I'm James, by the way. It's nice to meet you.” He felt a little awkward now, but he was sure that it would pass in time.

[Shoshin]

"James. It's a pleasure."

Although Gabriel wasn't usually this chatty with residents, the guy did just rescue him from a potentially embarrassing situation. It was a surprise, to be sure, and the other surprising coincidence was quick to follow. He was a resident in cardiology. Gabe was notorious amongst his residents for pushing them towards perfection, hardly ever sugarcoating his criticism. Every patient represented a life; every mistake could potentially cost that life. Sometimes, he considered himself lucky that he'd been estranged from most of his family, even his parents. That way, he'd never experienced the emotional blow of losing, or possibly losing, anyone close to him - because there weren't any. Everything he had, he'd earned. It was a little hard to see grit behind an expensive suit, but it was there. It'd always been there.

And there was one rule Gabe always went by - never show favoritism. Some residents were obviously more talented than others, but he kept that under wraps. Nothing was worse than a medical professional with a huge ego. It didn't necessarily mean they couldn't have egos, but when it came to the delicate preservation of health, even life, complacency could be fatal. He couldn't count the number of times he'd seen worried families gathered outside wards, holding prayer circles. Some stared blankly, eyes bloodshot; others openly wept. Sometimes, he thought he might be a little insensitive - he did function with a sense of detachment - but detachment was important. You couldn't let yourself get dragged into cases for personal reasons.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Even with experience, it never got any easier. Some lessons had to be taught early, which was how he justified his treatment of the residents. "You don't say," said Gabe with raised brows, giving a muted sort of chortle. "Looks like we'll be working real closely together. I think I should just inform you in advance, though, that I'm not exactly cuddly with my residents. If you mess up, I'll definitely let you know it." He paused, walking out into the busy street and wincing at the momentary roar of an engine as some guy's flashy Lamborghini sped past. "Call it a form of thanks for getting my coffee. I'll be paying you back by the way - I don't like owing people any favors."

Perhaps that was a bit harsh, but Gabe had never been the type to feel indebted to anyone. No ties, no obligations. He hadn't meant it in an insulting manner, and most who worked with him understood it was just the way he was. Making their way across to the hospital, he tried to keep up some form of small talk; because once they passed the entrance doors, he'd be obligated to get right to business, no time for coffee and chatting. "So, what made you decide on a career in medicine? You a native New Yorker?"

[mmidnight]

The warning was hardly necessary. James had more or less assumed that Gabriel wasn't going to suddenly be his number one fan just because he had thrown down the money for the other man's morning coffee. Truthfully, James had only been trying to be a decent person, feeling that in a city like New York, true kindness was hard to come by, and he always about helping to brighten the day of someone. That urge to be a good person was part of the reason he had decided to become a doctor—his fascination with the heart came later, not until during his second year of medical school during a dissection. Since then, he had studied everything that he could on the subject, both in and out of class and he felt prepared to finally be in the hospital. It would have been nice to make friends with Gabriel, but James wanted to let his work speak for itself.

“I wouldn't expect to be treated any other way,” said James in return as he took another long drink from his cup. Hearing that Gabriel intended to pay him back, the blond man couldn't help but chuckle knowingly; he had expected that too. “Fine,” he nodded, “you owe me my next coffee, and we'll call it even.” James didn't really feel as though buying coffee for someone else was a very big deal, but with brilliant men, came large egos and James wasn't surprised by Gabriel's in the slightest.

Rocking back on his heels, James was now just waiting for the light at the crosswalk to change. He was getting excited about his first day, and was ready to meet his fellow residents and get a feel for the hospital. Of course, James was well aware that he would only be doing the grunt work for quite some time, cleaning up after the doctors, signing off on charts, tending to patients needs, but it was worth it and it was a stepping stone on the way to something better.

As the light changed, James found himself drawn back into the conversation with Gabriel. He wore a friendly smile as they approached the hospital, the crowd around them somewhat thinning as others made their way to their appropriate destination. “I'm not sure,” he admitted, “I've just always liked helping people, and I took an anatomy class in high school that just sort of kicked everything off,” he shrugged, noting that he was almost finished with his coffee. When asked about where he was from, James was somewhat hesitant. He was always worried that someone would associate him with his father, or somehow find out his real last name.

“I'm from Connecticut,” he lied, making no mention of Washington D.C. Lying came second nature, and although James wasn't proud of it, he had to protect himself somehow. “Are you from New York originally?”

[Shoshin]

"Deal. Your next brew's on me."

Being a doctor hadn't always meant being a person of "status"; there was a period of time when doctors were merely skilled individuals with the desire to heal others. Then, as society "progressed", the medical profession became another way people could compete. Doctors competed for prestige, for salary, for the chance to work in hospitals such as the one they were approaching now, a gleaming technological hub boasting all the latest advancements. The latest machinery, the latest treatment, the best doctors. It was a cutthroat place, but the cutthroat side was a side most of its patients were blissfully ignorant of.

"Connecticut, huh? Never been there, honestly..." If he'd been completely honest, he'd barely had the finances to even leave his neighborhood as a kid, struggling to even attain a scholarship. He'd been a constant, insistent presence at the local library, becoming almost the adopted son of the resident librarian, a woman he still remembered to this day. She'd allowed him to take whatever he wanted, as long as he kept the books in good condition and returned them when he was done. Sometimes, things at home kept him so isolated that he'd spent his hours in the library itself, reading in some secluded corner. The chance the librarian had given him - it'd been invaluable.

"...and nope; I'm from California." He allowed himself a small grin at his answer. Most people associated California with amazing summers, beaches, celebrities and the rich and beautiful. All those things you saw in the movies, the television shows, the commercials. Few people actually acknowledged that there were poorer areas there, where people fought tooth and nail just to keep living. His neighborhood had been a particularly dangerous one, and there had always been a note of trepidation each time he'd been forced to walk home alone. That experience growing up had bolstered his spirit, however, and boosted his independent nature.

By the time they cleared the crosswalk, the hospital lay right ahead; passing through the sliding glass doors, Gabriel was greeted by that all-too-familiar sight of immaculately polished floors, well-maintained walls and impeccably dressed staff. Some of them greeted him as they passed, or acknowledged him with brief, curt nods. Stretchers, attended to by clusters of nurses, trundled noisily past, bearing patients in varying states of consciousness. There was an energy in the place; and though sometimes lives weren't necessarily saved, the fact that work went on round the clock in attempts to save these lives...well, that was good enough for him.

Turning towards his ever-cheerful new acquaintance, Gabe gave a brief, but amused smile, wondering how this place went up against whatever medical establishments James might have worked in before. "Welcome to your new home. And by "home", I mean it quite literally. You'll probably be spending most of your waking life here."

[mmidnight]

James had never been to Connecticut either, but he was willing to bet that it wasn't a very eventful place. Its innocuousness was the perfect cover and only made it easier to further the lie that he was someone else, not at all connected to that disgraced senator or his fortune built upon lies. The doctor didn't seem like the type question the validity of something so small anyway, and James was grateful for that, and in fact, he wasn't all that sure that Gabriel wasn't simply being polite to him and keeping up the conversation until they arrived at the hospital. Either way, human contact before his first shift started did wonders to ease his nerves, and he appreciated the other man's time. “You're not missing much,” he finally followed up, and left it at that.

Hearing that Gabriel was from the golden coast was a little surprising. When James thought of California, he thought of blond, tanned surfers eating fish tacos on the beach while wearing puka shell necklaces, not well put together doctors with dark hair and a nice suit. He wasn't one to judge, and really had no room to when he wasn't even being honest about where he came from. He simply nodded, accepting the information with a friendly comment about enjoying the sun and sand himself.

With the crosswalk disappearing underfoot, the concrete gave way to polished floors, bright colors and nicely dressed staff members crossing the lobby of the hospital, moving to and fro and all around as they went about their jobs. James took it all in, blue eyes slightly wide and almost amazed that he had made it to such a prestigious and respected hospital—this was where it all started, though, and James couldn't have been more ready. He turned back to Gabriel, chuckling softly at his words and nodding. He was already prepared for the on call room to become his new first home, all the while forgetting what his apartment actually looked like. It would be well worth the trade in just a few years time.

“All part of the eventual job, right?” he asked rhetorically, smiling as he righted his bag over his shoulder and swirled the last bit of coffee around in his cup. He needed to get down to the basement for orientation, completely against being late. “I hope you'll come find me for coffee soon,” he added, smile fading off into a barely-there smirk. He knew that he would see Gabriel around the hospital, but he didn't expect to be friends in front of anyone when he was merely a resident.

[Shoshin]

"With what you're about to go through, you're gonna need it."

Gabriel responded as he flashed a brief smile; this was followed by a professional nod as he offered the new resident a mock salute. This guy seemed particularly enthusiastic, as if he had something to prove. If not to others, then to himself. He could only hope he didn't get too curious, since this hospital's shiny exterior was a front for a lot of the things that went down behind closed doors. He would know. Stopping by his locker to wash up and slip on his white coat, he examined himself in the mirror in front of the sink for a few moments. He seemed slightly worn, but that wasn't an unusual sort of visage here at the hospital, so it wouldn't draw any unnecessary suspicion.

And the first patient he was due to check on was the most important one of the day. Stepping into the private, luxuriously maintained ward, it was eerily silent. On the bed lay the frail shape of a woman. In her early sixties, her hair had grayed to a fine silver. She was so thin, so sickly that her hands seemed almost withered, paper skin over jutting bone. It seemed like someone could break her with even the slightest touch. Yet, her eyes were wide and lucid, gazing out of the nearby window in a quiet state of grace. The light flowing through the smudged panes illuminated her face - her exquisite bone structure, the elegance with which she carried herself even in this stage of illness.

"Mrs. Cassidy. How are we feeling today?" Gabe stepped up to check her chart, smiling fondly down at the woman.

"Like I'm lucky to be alive." The woman let out a slow chuckle, turning from the window to look at him.

"Well, I've got good news for you, Mrs. Cassidy. We found a matching heart. We can get the transplant going as soon as the paperwork's settled." He noted the sudden change in her demeanor, the spark of hope in her otherwise resigned gaze. "I'm sure Mr. Cassidy will be happy to hear that, considering how worried he is right now."

And of course, Mr. Cassidy referred to Jack Cassidy of Cassidy Enterprises, one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the world. And there was no one Jack trusted more than Gabriel. Gabe had spoken to the man on various occasions, and had told him that he was willing to pay "as much as it took" if they could just find his wife a heart. Hearts were in short supply; most were taken from patients rendered brain-dead in horrific accidents. Recently they'd gotten a new one - a young woman named Elizabeth Charles, whose heart was found to be a perfect match for Mrs. Cassidy. And as soon as Elizabeth's grieving husband approved the harvest, they could proceed.

[mmidnight]

James wasn't the type to be easily intimidated, and although he was nervous, he wasn't afraid of what he was about to experience. Medical school had prepared him a great deal for what it was like in a real hospital, and with how expensive the program had been, the blond man assumed it was worth it. Besides, be was a people person, outwardly friendly and easy-going; day one would be a breeze.

After waving goodbye to doctor Morris, James walked over to the shiny, stainless steel elevators and pressed the call button. He tapped his foot while he waited, and wrestled with his suddenly tangled headphones before stowing them in his bag. Soon, the doors parted and out walked a myriad of people covered in a rainbow of colors, from white coats, to pink scrubs, and everything in between. He offered a polite smile to those who caught his eye and boarded the elevator upon their exit, pressing another button to get to the basement where orientation was being held. Digging into his pocket, James pulled out a piece of crumbled, and over folded paper—it had all of the appropriate information on it along with a few numbers and names of people he thought might be important. Before enrolling in the program, James had done his research and he liked to know who was who.

Orientation was standard, but informative and James listened to everything that was said, took a few notes, got his scrubs and a locker and was then sent on his way. He was a bit surprised by how quickly everything had gone, but that didn't rattle him. He was assigned to a floor with a group of other residents, and James got to chatting with them on the way up. The floor was supposedly special, where the patients were top priority and the blond almost-doctor had originally thought it to be a cancer floor, or perhaps pediatrics, but after a quick look at the charts, most of them were seniors. It seemed a bit odd to be assigned to such a place for the day, but James should have known not to expect much action so soon.

The hallways were quiet as James made his way down to Mrs. Cassidy's room, flipping through her chart as he went. It was easy to see from the many pages and the added on notes from previous doctors and nurses that the woman had heart failure, and was awaiting a transplant. “Easy enough,” he said to himself, flipping over another page to see the doctor he would be working alongside that day. The answer made him laugh aloud, and he couldn't help but grin. It was a small world, indeed.

James entered the room and laid eyes on Gabriel Morris for the second time that day, and saw that he was already tending to Mrs. Cassidy. Once upon a time, she had been a beautiful woman, but age and disease had caught up to her and now she was lying quietly, withering away. “Good morning,” he announced himself, “I'm James, I'll be helping out doctor Morris today.”

Professional, always professional.

[Shoshin]

"Who's the heart from?"

Mrs. Cassidy spoke up after several moments of silence. Gabriel hesitated initially; he knew how kind Mrs. Cassidy was, and how her personality was the complete opposite of her husband's. How was he supposed to tell her that as of now, Elizabeth Charles was lying comatose, barely alive, while her husband sat at her side, head in his hands? It wasn't something new - no, he'd seen it before, but brain damage had always seemed like a terrible waste of youth. And Elizabeth Charles was so young. Clearing his throat, he exhaled contemplatively before speaking. "Car accident. Irreversible brain damage. There was nothing more the doctors could do."

Her eyes returned to the window at his words, as if she hadn't heard them at all. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She whispered, watching sunlight flow through the glass and onto the sill. Gabe had always felt a little guilty when speaking to Mrs. Cassidy in particular. There were many other patients who needed hearts, one of whom was a child who still had his entire life in front of him. His parents had been devastated at the news, and yet, Mr. Cassidy was doing everything possible to make sure his wife got utmost priority. Gabe supposed it was what any man would do for his wife, if he loved her as much as Mr. Cassidy did Mrs. Cassidy.

But of course, he still had to wait for the assigned resident to arrive - and when said resident did, Gabriel was more than surprised to see it was the same man who'd bought him his coffee earlier that morning. He didn't even bother trying to conceal his reaction, brows raised. But he didn't spout off anything like, "Well, look who's here!" No - he was a professional, and he'd keep it that way. After James introduced himself, Gabe took the opportunity to introduce Mrs. Cassidy.

"This is Hannah Cassidy. She's the wife of Jack Cassidy - you might know him as the founder of Cassidy Enterprises." Jack was a regular on the Forbes list of the world's richest people, but he was also known for not doing much in line of charity work. He was ruthless, calculative, and notoriously hot-tempered. But he loved his wife. "I've been looking after Mrs. Cassidy since her admission, and I'd like you to understand that she is a patient of extreme importance." He looked James sharply in the eye at that comment - the hospital needed its funding, and a lot of its funding came from Cassidy Enterprises. Even the hospital director knew how important that was. "We'll be doing a heart transplant once the paperwork for Elizabeth Charles clears, and I'm going to need you to assist."

"Please, call me Hannah." Mrs. Cassidy smiled weakly at James. "And please, Doctor Morris, there's really no need to pressure the man." Her gaze drifted to James again, and there was a long pause before she released a lamenting sigh. "You have a certain...enthusiasm about you. It reminds me of my son."

[mmidnight]

Suddenly, it made sense that Hannah Cassidy had started to call this floor home. James had not only heard of the Cassidy's, but he had read about Jack in Forbes a number of times and recalled a time when his father had gone to meet with the man in order to secure funding for a project around the D.C area. Years ago, when James had been under the impression that politics and business always operated on the legal side of the law, he had thought Jack Cassidy was a good guy—just a helpful and concerned philanthropist. Unfortunately, that probably wasn't the case, but his own opinions on the Cassidy empire mattered little when it came to treating Hannah, and the whole point of being a doctor was to do no harm. James would help Gabriel in every way that he was allowed.

“Understood, doctor,” James replied with a nod, and also understood the look that he was given. He gathered that the Cassidy family had a lot to do with the hospital, and the money the establishment was in line to get depended on whether or not Mrs. Cassidy's heart transplant went according to plan. The blond man didn't intend to get in the way, or prevent the hospital from naming a new wing after the patient's husband. Regardless of the pressure that would come from assisting in the surgery, James was prepared and excited.

James had yet to read over the condition of Elizabeth Charles, but he assumed things would be underway shortly. He didn't think twice about Hannah's position on the transplant list, and trusted that Gabriel had gone through the proper channels in order to obtain this heart from Elizabeth. Had he known the truth, James more than likely would have quit on the spot and left disillusioned with his career choice, and life in general. Luckily, he was left in the dark, blissfully unaware of what Gabriel was using the hospital for.

Smiling back at her, James listened as Mrs. Cassidy spoke. “That's nice of you to say. We're going to get you back on your feet, alright?” he promised, placing a hand gently on her frail shoulder. Hannah was clearly tired and weak, and the smile slid from her face as she turned her head back to the window, eyes closed for another nap.

Scribbling a few notes into the chart in his hand, James looked back to Gabriel. He assumed they were done there for the time being. “Should I go check the status of Elizabeth Charles?” he asked, tucking the black pen back into the pocket of his scrubs.

[Shoshin]

Gabriel had never had a good impression about politics and business in general. His upbringing had made him anything but an idealist, him having been a witness to some of the worst states of living by national standards. It was one thing to make big promises on television, but another to actually fulfill them. Politics was a game; that was all it was. And really, he wondered at what point was the line actually drawn between having power and using it reasonably, and abusing that power. Life wasn't a pretty picture, and he knew that enough not to strive towards the "ultimate ideal" of anything. Because ideals didn't actually exist. The phrase "reality bites" could've very well been his personal mantra, because he knew that as much as a man wanted to help others, he also had to look out for himself.

And in that way, he could tell that he and James were complete opposites. His resident seemed to have a very positive impression of the world. Gabe supposed it was good he did, because that way he had a constant source of happiness, even if that happiness stemmed from partial ignorance. This hospital might've seemed the epitome of a respectable medical institution, but Gabe knew better. He knew that beyond the shiny devices and immaculate walls, there was an underbelly. Here, they were a closer "family" than they seemed, and there was a time when the uninitiated would finally learn how things worked around here. Having James assist on the transplant was only the first test.

Elizabeth Charles was an unfortunate case, yes, but sometimes unfortunate things had to happen so other people could benefit. It was the circle of life. And besides, Gabriel wasn't the key player in anything; he'd merely participated due to the benefits he'd receive, and he was far from the type to mastermind anything. No. He was a survivor, and that was all it mattered. People didn't get where they were just by sitting back and being nice to anyone. And if doctors were meant to be leaders in the fields of love and charity, then they were better off working pro bono overseas rather than in the city, getting paid at borderline insane levels. In the end, people still wanted financial compensation for their time, instead of just that proverbial "satisfaction" one supposedly received from doing a good deed.

"Yes, check to see if the paperwork's been cleared." Gabriel nodded, waving a dismissive hand as he returned his attention to the chart and to Mrs. Cassidy.

---

Elizabeth Charles was as pale as a ghost, a figure swathed in bandages with spots of congealed blood staining her face, her eyes bruised. Beside her, the ECG indicated she was still alive, but the doctors had already informed her husband that she was as good as gone. Robert Charles was the figure of grief as he sat hunched at her bedside, hands forming a steeple beneath his chin. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, and it was probably true. When he heard footsteps enter the ward, he turned, barely glancing at the man who'd entered. "They said it was an accident..." His voice was a bare whisper. "But she was always a good driver. I knew she was."

[mmidnight]

“Yes, doctor,” said James, professional and polite before making his leave.

On the way back to the elevator, James looked over Elizabeth Charles' file, seeing the notes from various physicians and nurses and read on as her condition from the car accident grew worse and worse. She had never fully regained consciousness after the crash, and was now brain-dead, lying there and waiting for her organs to be harvested. It seemed like a little much for his first day, and James had expected to be doing clinic duty, looking after sick kids, or telling people whether or not that strange rash was or wasn't herpes. Instead, he was going to be pushing along paper work and trying to deal with a grieving husband in a business-like, but compassionate way. James considered himself to be a good person, but he was fairly emotional, which wouldn't make for a good combination.

The sterile smell of the hospital returned once the elevator doors opened to reveal the third floor. Elizabeth's room was at the end of the wing, and James made no stops as he walked, mentally preparing himself to push these papers on the woman's poor husband and then leave to schedule the surgery. He had to remind himself that even if Elizabeth Charles' youth was wasted, she would be helping countless people in death, and that was something that he could appreciate.

Knocking briefly on the doorjamb, James stepped into the room. One look at Robert Charles was enough to make James forget the pep talk that he had given himself on the way over. The man was broken, distraught and likely to never fully recover from such a loss. In that moment, James wanted to walk away, give the man more time with his wife, but he knew that Gabriel and the OR wouldn't wait for anything like that. “I'm very sorry for your loss,” James said, coming to stand at the side of Elizabeth's bed. He looked from the battered young woman and back to her husband. “There's some paper work to finish up, and then we can schedule the surgery for--”

“Already?” Robert asked, looking shocked.

James paused, although he didn't falter. “Unfortunately, yes. The paper work needs to be processed, and then we'll schedule, so you'll have a few more hours with her.” He hoped that would suffice.

“Her parents are coming from out of state. What if they don't make it in time?”

This was like a scene from a bad movie, and James would have done anything to press rewind. “Like I said, it's going to take some time.” James reached out and awkwardly set his hand on the man's shoulder, and Robert's head sank into his hands, his body racked with sobs. “I'm not ready to lose her yet,” Robert whispered.

“I'm incredibly sorry,” James apologized again, but he knew that words from a stranger, especially one who was there to get authorization for harvesting organs, wouldn't mean anything to this grief-stricken husband.

“You married?” Robert asked, and James shook his head. “You have kids?” Again, he didn't. “You don't know what it's like. Don't pretend to care,” Robert wiped at his eyes, shaking James' hand from his shoulder. “Give me the damn papers.”

The young doctor knew that Robert had every right to be angry, but he was already overwhelmed. It had been silly of him to think that this wouldn't be emotionally taxing, and suddenly, he wished he had paid more attention to the psychology aspect of his classes in school. He opened the file and took out the papers, explaining the process to Robert before obtaining his signature on multiple forms. For as long as Elizabeth was kept alive with those machines, her organs would be viable and James would do what he could to schedule a late surgery. He felt like he owed that to the family, at least to let Elizabeth's parents say their goodbye's to their daughter.

Breathing a heavy sigh after exiting the room, James ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. He hoped this would get easier, or else those years in school and all that money was about to go to waste. Often, the blonde man considered himself to be a strong person, but when faced with loss, he was a mess. It could have had something to do with the fact that he was distanced from his own family, but the Hudson's had never been very close-knit. He didn't want to face facts and acknowledge that this was just hard.

After returning to the surgery floor, James turned in the papers and talked with the staff. As with any major hospital, the schedule board was busy and hectic with little openings. There were only two spaces available at that moment; an available OR at noon and another one at eleven PM. The papers needed time to be faxed, seen and approved, so James erred on the side of caution and took the late night surgery. Obviously, it was going to be a long night.

“I got everything cleared up with the Charles',” James announced, once again managing to find doctor Morris. “You're scheduled with her at eleven tonight. There wasn't much available.” James assumed that Gabriel knew that, as his name had appeared more than once on the large, dry erase board that day, but he felt the need to make excuses for himself. It didn't feel right to come out and say that he was trying to make everyone happy and still do his job.

[Shoshin]

It was five minutes before James' return that Jack Cassidy himself appeared to visit his wife. As the hospital's main financier, Cassidy carried himself with an assured sense of self-importance - and he was an important man. Murmurs and whispers trailed in his wake, even as he finally strode into the ward and cleared his throat in a demand for attention. Gabriel honestly hated dealing with this man, but there were things in life that you just had to tolerate, no matter how unpleasant it might actually seem. Cassidy was a walking power trip, with an immaculately tailored suit, shiny cufflinks and a silk tie which was probably worth more than most of the nurses earned in a month. His hair, graying like Hannah's, was styled back in a manner which had "corporate" etched all over it.

"Doctor Morris," Jack spoke curtly, his voice bearing a subtle, raspy edge which suggested that this was merely a professional conversation - a transaction, really. Something privy only to the both of them. He motioned Gabriel to a corner of the ward, away from Hannah's earshot. "I hear everything's been...arranged as we discussed. I'm not taking any risks with Hannah, and I've made that plenty clear to you during our first interaction."

"I understand, and everything's proceeding...well." Gabriel tried not to seem obviously uncomfortable in the man's presence, though he very much was. Like a predatory bird, Jack seemed to have the innate ability to detect fear in others. And when he did, he zeroed in on that fear and drew it out, playing on it in order to exert a terrifying amount of pressure on those he disliked. And Gabriel, for all his wiles and occasional cunning, did not want to end up on Cassidy's "list". He was the one who had to finalize the deals. He was the one who had to chat up certain...unsavory elements, mostly due to his less-than-privileged background. "I've sent a resident to schedule the surgery and make sure the paperwork's finalized."

"Good, because you have no idea how many bribes-" Jack began, just as James appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

Gabriel's eyes shot immediately to his resident, who proceeded to inform him that everything had been cleared with the Charles', and that the surgery had been scheduled for eleven that night. Jack's face remained very, very still - the businessman had always been too cold, and too hard to read. And Gabriel could only hope that the idealistic young man hadn't overheard a single word in his and Jack's conversation. That would make things significantly more...complicated. Clearing his throat, Gabe motioned James over and nodded at his companion. "Doctor Allen, I'd like you to meet Jack Cassidy."

"A pleasure." As he extended a hand, Jack's words were laced with but the tiniest hint of venom, the older man's eyes narrowed in silent calculation.

[mmidnight]

The air outside of Hannah Cassidy's room was suddenly tense, and James wasn't aware of what he was interrupting. As far as he knew, scheduling doctor Morris for surgery and reporting back was part of the process, so the blonde man didn't really understand why Jack Cassidy was looking at him so intently, as if he wasn't welcome there. For years, James had dealt with his type, as many of his father's business partners had been Jack Cassidy's one sense or another, but he never had grown quite used to being looked down on. Regardless, the time spent in the presence of this man would (hopefully) be considered minimal.

“It's nice to meet you, sir,” James said, shaking Jack's hand firmly with a polite smile. He didn't like the look in the older man's eyes, and for a brief second, James worried that he was being placed. No one in New York knew about where he had come from, or that he was the son of that senator, but Jack had connections and James bore an unfortunate resemblance to his father, sans beard. “We're going to take good care of your wife.”

Jack released James' hand, eyes still filled with scrutiny. He straightened the lapels of his expensive suit and nodded once. “I have faith in Doctor Morris,” he said, although it sounded as though it was more of a threat than words of praise. The vulture-like man turned back to James, questioning how long he had been working there, trying to find a single weakness.

Truthfully, James couldn't say that he minded or was surprised. If there was someone that he cared about, in the hopsital and about to be operated on, he would want to know the credentials of the doctors and nurses involved as well. Although, the fact that Gabriel had pulled him in to assist with the surgery should have said something. “Today is my first day, mister Cassidy,” James relayed, and the older man frowned.

“Is there any way the surgery could be moved up?” Jack asked, now completely ignoring James' presence in obvious disapproval. “I have a meeting tonight,” a rather unsavory one, “and would prefer not to postpone.”

Frowning to himself, James hoped that Gabriel wouldn't try to accommodate Jack, no matter how much money he had. Downstairs, a family was being torn apart, a woman's parents were on their way to say goodbye and her husband was a mess. What kind of person would James look like if the OR team came to collect Elizabeth Charles that afternoon instead of that evening? Maybe he had too much of a heart for this, too big of a conscience, but James didn't think it was fair for those parents to miss the chance to say goodbye to their child.

“There's no room to change anything around,” James interjected, much to the chagrin of Jack Cassidy. Of course, Gabriel would more than likely have the final say, it was his surgery and he had the right to be manipulate the situation out of the best interest of everyone involved.

[Shoshin]

Jack didn't seem to take to the new resident as easily as Gabriel had hoped. Rather, the businessman's expression was one of distaste, disapproval. And that wasn't good news, especially if one knew just how influential the Cassidys were. I have faith in Doctor Morris, was what the man had said, and though it sounded like a compliment, Gabe knew Jack enough to know that it was far from one - nothing more than "fail, and you'll pay for it". He was one of the few people who knew what Cassidy was capable of, and how he wasn't just a "businessman", though perhaps his...other dealings constituted businesses, albeit more dangerous ones.

And now he was asking if the surgery could be moved up.

Gabriel understood, far too well, that when Jack Cassidy "asked" for something, he usually got it by pain of death...that phrase being more than just a manner of speech. It was really far more literal than people assumed. And of course James would argue that there wasn't time to change anything around. That was how it went. Schedules were schedules, and any alterations would render all those careful plans inept. Still, Gabe was far too wary of the man before him, that vulture who watched him with a dark eagerness, as if waiting for the precise moment to lay those talons upon him and rip him to pieces.

Certainly, Gabriel had a conscience. Just how much of a conscience depended on the context. Though many thought a doctor should be the epitome of warmth and kindness, the hospital was still a business. The money for all that technology had to come from somewhere. And the director himself was in Cassidy's pocket. And now, James was putting himself right in the path of something he wasn't going to like. But he'd learn. They all learned, or lost. Passing a quick glance at James, Gabe's expression was one of uncharacteristic severity, instead of the usual, easy neutrality he wore. "On the contrary...I'd be glad to shift the surgery to an earlier slot, Mr. Cassidy."

"Excellent," replied the man with a glint in his eye. "You never disappoint..." A pointed look was cast in James' direction. "I'll be back soon. Until then, keep doing what you do best, Morris." He clapped Gabriel heartily on the shoulder before departing the ward. As soon as his overpriced loafers were out the door, Gabe felt his entire body sag in a display of overwhelming relief. It was then he found it in himself to address his resident, his tone a clear indication of "no questions".

"Tell them to move it up, and tell the Charles' that we'll be conducting the harvest earlier than scheduled. If Elizabeth's parents want to say goodbye, they'd best get here now." His tone was cold, but beneath that coldness hid a helpless sympathy. This was how things were done - how they'd always been done. And there were times Gabriel hated himself for it.

[mmidnight]

A large part of James' early years had been devoted to helping his father impress men like Jack Cassidy. It wasn't until he was older did he realize that he didn't like any of them, and that the man raising him was exactly like the ones he very much detested. There was something garish and ugly about leading with money, about pushing people around just because a person had a bank account six figures wide. Medicine was supposed to be the equalizer, something tangible that couldn't be bought and lorded over the heads of everyone else. Jack Cassidy was disgusting, and James already loathed the man. Part of him didn't even want to do the surgery for his wife if it meant that Elizabeth Charles' family would suffer sooner rather than later.

When that harsh expression crossed Gabriel's handsome face, James immediately knew that he had lost. The surgery would be moved, Jack would have what he wanted, and Elizabeth's parents wouldn't have a chance to say goodbye to her. It was surreal, slightly sobering to already have his dreams crushed on day one, and how silly it had been for him to think that this hospital wasn't a business, or that the doctors actually cared. The blonde man was having a bit of a personal crisis as he stood there, and the smug look on that old vulture's wrinkled face made James want to quit right then and there. This wasn't what he had gone to medical school for—he wanted to help people, not hurt them in the name of a dollar.

As Jack walked away and James pulled himself from his disillusionment with life in general, Gabriel spoke. The man's tone sounded like no-nonsense, but his posture indicated differently. It was possible that the other man felt bad about his decision, but James had no sympathy for him when he was clearly in the pocket of Jack and liked being there. The automatic respect that James had for his superior was dwindling, circling the drain now that James knew what kind of doctor Gabriel really was. He didn't want anything to do with it, and was regretful that he had been personally assigned to shadow him.

“No,” he said, unflinching to the orders. He wasn't going to walk down there and go back on his word to a grieving man. If Gabriel wanted to be Jack Cassidy's lap dog, and operate on his half-dead wife a few hours early, James wasn't going to play errand boy; this hadn't been his decision. It mattered very little to him that this was his job, to make the lives of the real doctors easier, but he felt as though he had a moral obligation to the Charles'. Perhaps if he had started out in the clinic with a stethoscope, things would be different, but day one was a heart transplant facilitated by greed and James had worked so hard to get away from that. Gabriel's decision was a slap in the face.

“I'm not telling them anything. Elizabeth's parents are on their way from out of state and they won't be here for hours. If you want to move it up so bad, you tell them. You arrange it.” James didn't care if this meant he would be taken off of the surgery, or if it meant Gabriel would no longer like him—he didn't even care if this meant changing bed pans for the rest of his residency, he wasn't going to do this. A hospital had no place bending to the will of one person with a fat wallet.