hIS naiLS !!
NaILS ??
NAILS ! !
Songfic for "Camisado" by Panic! At The Disco
You narrow your eyes at the IV, squinting to see the measurement. You frown as you write numbers down on your clipboard.
"You haven't been drinking a lot lately," you remark.
"Was that supposed to be a joke?" The patient snaps, turning over in their hospital bed to face you.
You frown at them.
"I'm an alcoholic that's stuck in a hospital and hooked to an I.V. I can't drink anything," they scoff, adverting their eyes from you.
♪The I.V. and your hospital bed♪
"What I meant was," you huff and look at the measurement you wrote down again. "The liquid hasn't moved nearly at all since my last visit. Your body isn't liking what we're putting in it."
The patient crosses their arms. "That's because it's not alcohol," they mutter.
♪This was no accident, this was a therapeutic chain of events♪
You scowl at the patient before looking down at your clipboard.
Patient Name: Daniel Howell
The very name makes you cringe. You skip his personal information and check the notes that other doctors have written about him.
The only thing that's written under the notes section is a single word:
Alcoholic
"Well," you sigh. "You'll be happy to hear that my visit is over for today."
The patient—Daniel—narrows his eyes at you.
"There's..." He clears his throat. His voice is raspy, and there's dark bags under his eyes. Even if you weren't a doctor, you could still tell: he hasn't been sleeping. "There's nothing you can do for me?"
He doesn't sound like he usually does. His voice holds no anger, no bitterness, not even a hint of sarcasm. He sounds genuinely worried and hopeless.
But you don't let that phase you.
"This is a hospital, Mr. Howell," you say, a stoic expression plastered across your face. "And I am a doctor. Of course there are things I can do for you."
Daniel grits his teeth. "Why don't you do them then?"
Your flat expression remains unmoved. "Because," you state simply. "You never let me."
*~*~*~*
Camisado [kam-uh-sah-doh] / noun
a military attack made at night
It's currently 2:47 a.m.
You walk swiftly through the hallway, your heels clicking on the linoleum floor. The familiar smell of the hospital makes your nose crinkle, but you're used to it.
♪This is the scent of dead skin on the linoleum floor♪
You keep your eyes trained on your clipboard as you scribble down some notes on a patient's file.
It's so late at night, there's no other doctor's around. At this hour you can do things like walk down the large, usually crowded corridor, with your nose in your files without bumping into anyone.
You know exactly where you're headed. The quarantine wing.
♪This is the scent of quarantine wings in the hospital♪
You hate going to the quarantine wing. All of the doctors have to wear special suits as to not get infected, but suiting up is always a hassle. It takes ten minutes to get the boots on alone.
Not to mention the quarantine patients. Maybe it's spending their entire life in a hospital, maybe it's just being alone, but the patients there always seemed a little crazy.
♪It's not so pleasant and it's not so conventional♪
But you're used to it. You're used to it all.
♪It sure as hell ain't normal but we deal, we deal♪
And though you will never admit it to the other doctors, working the night shift always spooked you. Most of the lights are turned off after nine or ten o'clock, and the only sound that fills the corridor is white noise. That is, the incoherent humming of machines and nothingness.
"H-Hey!"
You freeze at the sound the of someone's voice shouting behind you. Your clipboard drops to the floor with a metallic clang. Your eyes are so wide they're the size of the moon.
No one should be out at this hour. No one.
You take a deep, shaky breath before turning round.
A tall, lanky silhouette is standing at the end of the hallway.
Your eyes are so strained from staring at files all day you can't make out who it is.
You try to regain your composure. You pick up your clipboard and straighten your white doctor's coat.
"Sir!" You call, trying to sound calm. You start walking toward the man, past the rows and rows of doors on either side of you. Patients are in there, sick and sleeping. Whoever that man is should be in his room, sick and sleeping. "Please return to your room. You are not allowed out without doctor's consent."
As you get closer, you squint your eyes to see the man better. Your mouth falls open a little when you realize who it is.
Daniel Howell.
He's standing there, in his hospital gown, the portable I.V. rolling next to him. His knees shake ever so slightly, and his skin is a sickly pale color.
"Mr. Howell-" you begin.
"-Dan," he interrupts.
You set your jaw and ignore his nickname. "Mr. Howell, you have to go back to your room. It's not safe for you out here. You're not well."
As if on cue, his weak knees give out, and he has to lean against the I.V. stand for support. Just as a reflex, you quickly lunge forward and grab hold of his arms to make sure he doesn't fall.
"Are you alright?" You ask.
"Fine," he huffs.
You immediately remove your hands from his arms and instead put one hand on his shoulder.
"Come on," you say. "Let's get you back to your room."
Luckily, he didn't make it that far. His room was only a few doors down, a few steps away.
You use the master key card on the badge that's hanging around your neck to open the door. You guide him inside and connect the I.V. back to his hospital bed.
"Mr. Howell, what you did was extremely dangerous," you sigh. "What if I wasn't there? You would have fallen and gotten seriously injured."
"More injured than I am now?" He says hopelessly, flopping back on his bed. The bed itself isn't reclined, so he's sat up a bit.
You stay silent. You shouldn't be here. The patient is back inside his room, safe and sound. You should be making your rounds in the quarantine wing now.
Yet here you are, sitting on the edge of a patient's bed, in his dark room, way too close to him than you should be.
"The anesthetic didn't set it," Dan suddenly chokes out.
You look over at him, and even in the dark room, you see tears glistening on his cheeks.
"It hurts a lot. But I don't care," he continues. His voice gets quicker and louder, and you can tell he's panicking. "It hurts so much, but I don't care. I don't care. I'm dying and I don't care anymore! What happened to the urgency I had when I first called the hospital? What happened to my fear? What happened to my will to live? Why don't I care anymore?!"
♪The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where the apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in♪
He sits up even more in his bed and leans forward, digging his fingers into his messy brown hair and clutching his head.
"Why is all I feel apathy? Why don't I care that I'm dying?!" He shouts.
"Sir!" You exclaim, putting up your hands to try to calm him down. But he doesn't respond. He just keeps rambling. "Mr. Howell! Dan!"
At the sound of his name, his real name, he stops panicking and looks at you with his wide chocolate eyes. His mouth is slightly agape, like he's shocked by what he just said.
"I'm...I'm sorry..." He says softly. You put your hands softly on his both of his shoulders and gently press him back against his pillow.
♪Just sit back, just sit back, just sit back and relax♪
"Dan?" You ask.
"Yeah?"
"Why..." You take a breath and start again. "Why did you start drinking?" Maybe if you can get to the root of the problem, you can stop it.
"My friend died." His voice cracks. "M-my best friend. I know it's no excuse, but I didn't know what to do!" He starts crying and hyperventilating again. "We were so close. So close. And he was so young. It wasn't fair! It was too soon! He just...h-he just left me! What else could I do?!"
♪Just sit back, just sit back, just sit back and relapse again♪
"Dan," you say again.
"And now..." Dan sits back. His voice is low and raspy again. Not from exhaustion, but from crying. "Now I have some God awful liver disease. I'm going to die, aren't I?"
"Dan..." You wince.
"You said so yourself," Dan states simply. "This is a hospital, and you're a doctor. You should know if I'm dying or not."
♪Can't take the kid from the fight♪
"Dan," you say again, just because you like saying it. You'll never tell anyone that, though. "I can't tell you if you'll die or not. But what I can tell you is that you will die if you continue to be like this."
"Continue to be like what?" He asks.
"What you were this morning. Bitter and sarcastic," you reply.
Dan half-laughs. "I can't help it. The sarcasm, anyway." He inhales, then exhales. "But...but I'll try to be better. I'll take the meds."
♪Take the fight from the kid♪
You blink. "You haven't been taking your medications?"
He shakes his head. "I spit the pills out as soon as the nurse leaves."
You close your eyes and let out an angry sigh. "That's why you're not getting better, you idiot! I'm going to put you in quarantine! Then you'll have to take your medications!"
Dan suddenly bursts out laughing.
"What's so funny?!"
"You called me an idiot," he says. "And said you would put me in quarantine."
"And that's funny because...?" You rub your face with your hands. "I positively hate quarantine."
"Positively? Why?" Dan muses.
"The patients all act like they're the freakin' Joker or something," you roll your eyes. "They act mental, like they're in a horror film or something, when there's absolutely no need. Rather dramatic, if you ask me."
Dan laughs. "Are they worse than me?"
"Oh, infinitely worse," you laugh too. You've had such a stressful day, and you're so tired of being so serious, you actually allow yourself to laugh.
"And are you allowed to say that?" Dan asks.
"What d'you mean?" You tilt your head to the side a little.
"Like, all that stuff about the patients? And are you even allowed to be in here at—" he checks the large digital clock on the pale gray wall. "—nearly 3 in the morning? With me? Rather unprofessional. I mean..." He looks around. "Aren't there security cameras? Couldn't you get in trouble?"
"There's video, but no sound," you explain. "If anyone asks, I can tell them I'm helping you stay sane. Because that's what I'm doing, right?"
Dan frowns, and his shoulders slouch. "Right..." He murmurs.
Your eyes widen. "I-I didn't mean it like that!"
"You said so yourself, remember?" Dan repeats. "This is a hospital, and you're a doctor. You shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be doing this."
On a sudden whim, you reach forward and take his hand.
"Dan, I want to help you," you say. You force yourself to look up at his chocolate brown eyes. He looks so broken and really, really sick. In that moment, you realize that he's a person, not just a patient. "Not as your doctor, but as your friend."
Dan looks at you skeptically. "Did you just friendzone me?"
You chuckle and stand up. "You get better and get out of this hospital bed, then we'll see."
Dan laughs. It's the first time you've seen him remotely happy since he first checked into this hospital.
"I will," he says. "I've decided I will get better."
The two of you smile at each other for a moment, before you notice something you've never noticed before.
You make a confused face.
"What?" Dan asks.
You bring yours and Dan's intertwined hands up closer to your face so you can see better in the dark.
Sure enough, Dan's fingernails are black. And it's not from his disease.
"Your nails are painted..."
How did you not notice something as amazing as this before?
"Oh," Dan says. "Uh, yeah." He quickly pulls his hand away from yours.
"No, no!" You say, laughing a little. "It's...cool. Great. Really great, actually."
Dan slowly smiles. "Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Th-thanks."
"I..." You look down at your hands. "I should be going. Quarantine rounds, you know." You shrug.
Dan nods. You smile and start to leave the room. Dan stops you right as you get to the door.
"Wait!" He calls, reaching out his hand and leaning forward.
"What?" You exclaim, turning around. The doctor in you takes over. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
Dan looks at you. "What's your name? Your first name, I mean."
You sigh in relief.
"(Y/N)," you reply.
"(Y/N)," Dan repeats, your name lingering on his lips.
"But please," you say, smiling a little. "Here, it's Doctor (Y/L/N)."
♡fin♡
oK BUT I'M ADDING THIS TO MY FAVORITES LIST BECAUSE I REALLY REALLY LIKED IT!
I hope you guys did too! Let me know in the comments, loves! ☆彡
Also, 8K READS?!?! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! LOVE YOU ALL FRENS! ♡ (some frens especially. y'all know who you are)