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Entry tags:
birds are leaving over autumn's ending
They've been trickling into the hospital in increasing numbers recently — individuals going at length about how the city whisked them away to another place, one crumbling and decrepit, unfit for any length of stay. Chase has spent more than enough time as a diagnostician to know that most cases try to make more of themselves than they actually are, and he no longer hesitates before letting other doctors know when a case is nothing more than a cold presented with flourish by a patient.
But here, he's also acutely aware of how the rules have changed, how being a doctor in Darrow requires a willingness to explore what Chase feels like he's learned long ago, and he knows as well as anyone else: there's something more behind what these people are claiming.
What remains to be done about it is far less clear.
There's only so long that he can sit on the matter before Chase realizes that the hospital itself holds little answers, so he ventures out five minutes earlier than usual that day, leather jacket quickly slung over his shoulders as he ducks into the first diner with an active happy hour.
Spotting a familiar face seated at the bar, Chase ducks through the milling crowd before nudging at a leg of Spike's stool with his toe.
"Mister Spiegel," he nods in acknowledgment, not quite sitting — he might be fishing for an interesting conversation, but it's not quite worth the cost of being a bother.
It's quite possible that some part of Chase is still searching too much for approval.
But here, he's also acutely aware of how the rules have changed, how being a doctor in Darrow requires a willingness to explore what Chase feels like he's learned long ago, and he knows as well as anyone else: there's something more behind what these people are claiming.
What remains to be done about it is far less clear.
There's only so long that he can sit on the matter before Chase realizes that the hospital itself holds little answers, so he ventures out five minutes earlier than usual that day, leather jacket quickly slung over his shoulders as he ducks into the first diner with an active happy hour.
Spotting a familiar face seated at the bar, Chase ducks through the milling crowd before nudging at a leg of Spike's stool with his toe.
"Mister Spiegel," he nods in acknowledgment, not quite sitting — he might be fishing for an interesting conversation, but it's not quite worth the cost of being a bother.
It's quite possible that some part of Chase is still searching too much for approval.