Let Me Be Your Advocate
Title: Let Me Be Your Advocate
Author: cobrapandemic
Pairings: Alex Gaskarth/Jack Barakat, eventual Zack Merrick/Rian Dawson
Word count: 2,602
Summary: A doctor AU in which Alex is a tease, Jack is a sad panda, Rian Dawson is oblivious and Zack Merrick is a filthy enabler.
A/N: At the end.
First off, Alex would like to start by saying he is a very intelligent motherfucker, despite common opposition. Despite the fact that he wears skinny jeans to work in a hospital. Despite the fact that he flattens his hair even after his scene-boy stage. Despite the fact that he says things that may or may not make sense to the lament person. And despite the fact that he is the youngest doctor in his practice.
Alex is fucking smart, okay?
And he knows shit. He knows things that he can back up with facts and personally vouch for if he has to.
Alex doesn’t do stupid shit, he just doesn’t. He admits that, back in his heyday, he and Zack used to get into some really brainless situations. But now, now Alex is 24 and he’s above the childish stupidity.
Except for how, apparently, he isn’t.
Alex likes his job, he really does. It’s something he went school for ¾ of his life to achieve. He loves coming in everyday to the smell of linoleum and medicine. He loves the way the nurses wink and flirt with him. He loves his desk and his blue tape and his tiny red stapler. He loves the name plate on his office door that says Dr. Alexander Gaskarth PhD. But most of all, Alex loves his patients.
Alex isn’t just any type of doctor. He is a mental health doctor. He deals with people with problems ranging from simple anxiety to people with multiple personalities. Not to mention all of the other disorders that lie in between.
So, yes. Alex loves his job. He loves his cool name plate and Alex loves his crazy patients.
He loves them all but there is one patient, a boy of seventeen, who Alex thinks he might actually possibly love. Like with courting and brooding and love letters written in blood. That kind of love.
And Alex knows it’s wrong for more reasons than one but you haven’t met this kid.
If anyone asked- anyone at all, that’s what Alex’s defense would be. “But you haven’t met this kid.”
You haven’t met this kid with the big brown eyes and the black and blond hair. You haven’t met the kid with such an ear for music it was apparent to Alex even before the boy explained it. You haven’t met the kid with American Apparel hoodies and tight band tees with even tighter jeans. You haven’t met the kid with the slight speech impediment and the need to express himself by any means necessary.
You may have met the kid with clinical depression though. You may have met the kid that has more insecurities than is healthy. Cries more tears then he deserves. You may have met Patient #189 but Alex is the only one that’s met Jack.
The day Alex actually meets Jack, the boy had been brought in by the emergency unit with a purple/black bruise wrapping around his pale, slender neck. Apparently he had tried-and failed-to hang himself.
At first glance Alex had written it off as another teenager over-reacting to high school drama. A break up with a girlfriend, bad grades, no date to homecoming, parents took away your phone and you think the world is coming to an end. The kind of drama Alex dealt with.
Of course, it wasn’t Alex’s job to check on the boy’s physical well-being so he’d slunk back into his office, took out his little ukulele and started playing an up-beat melody.
Not two hours after he’d settled into a montage of Lennon covers a nurse came in with a manila folder marked URGENT in big, intimidating red letters.
“How are you doctor?” The nurse asks bowing slightly as if Alex were some obscure royalty.
Alex likes the nurses when they flirt but when they act like he’s some kind of celebrity or something he gets the slightest bit uncomfortable.
“I’m spectac, Cindy. How about you? Still planning on dying your hair firetruck red?” He asks and it makes the woman blush all kinds of color.
“How did you know I was thinking of dying my hair?” She asks all timid innocence that Alex knows is a front. He grins at her though, enjoying the teasing more than he should.
“I listen. How many guys you know can do that trick, hm?” Alex winks at her and she stands stark still, astonished. Alex never really converses with the nurses, just smiles and waves at them on the way in or out of the building. Apparently Alex’s hospitality is some kind of grand gesture to the lady.
“You can go now, Cindy. I’ve got to go over these files. It was nice talking to you though.” Alex stops for second and then decides to go balls out. “Good luck with the hair dying, sweetie. I know you’ll look beautiful.”
He has to suppress his need to laugh hysterically as the flustered nurse hurriedly leaves the office, tripping over nothing as she goes.
Alex really loves his job.
After he’s come down from his fit of uncontrollable laughter Alex opens the rather thick folder Cindy had left behind.
Inside of it was a basic patient profile.
Patient No. 189
Full Name: Jack Bassam Barakat
Sex: Male
Height: 6’2’’
Weight: 165lbs
DOB: June 18, 1988
POB: Lutherville, Maryland
DOA: December 18, 2005
RFA: Attempted suicide
Prognosis: See additional files
Alex reads over the file maybe eight times and then a ninth for good measure. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that this is the file of the hanging kid from earlier today. Alex closes the folder and picks up the attached documents.
The file basically says that Jack is to come and see Alex immediately after treatment and proceed to come on a twice per week basis until Alex further decides upon the boy’s condition.
The first thing Alex thinks is, “Oh great, another kid that thinks his life over because he didn’t get what he wanted.” But then Alex really thinks. The kid had looked normal enough; tall, slender but toned and from what Alex could see he was relatively attractive. The kid should have no reason to want to end his life.
But then again, those were only things Alex could see on the surface and if there’s anything he’s learned from this profession it’s that most of the biggest problems are under the surface. During his studies his professor had called it the Iceberg Theory-ninety percent of the problem is below the surface.
The file says the estimated time of discharge for the kid is in two days and that the boy is to go directly from his hospital room, up three floors and down the hall to Alex’s office.
The file also has a small bright pink sticky note-Cindy’s work-stuck to the back. It reads: Patient 189’s guardians to meet with you at 4:00
Alex knows the note was meant to be seen as soon as she handed him the file but Alex is not that attentive, so when there’s a light rapping at his door he isn’t entirely surprised.
“Come on in.” He calls, straightening the collar of his button down. He’d taken off his scrubs when he’d settled into his office earlier. Now he was clad in a black button down and tight-but not unprofessionally tight-jeans.
The door opens slowly and two adults enter; a man and a woman. The man looks about forty, the woman a couple years younger. They both seem visibly distraught but in completely different ways. The male is irate and perplexed. The female is anxious and inconsolable.
Alex is to assume these are the kid’s parents.
Alex stands and walks around his desk ignoring the way the both of them scan his attire skeptically. “Hello, I’m Dr. Gaskarth, you must but Jack’s parents.”
The man shakes his hand firmly but the woman just stares at him in disbelief.
“If you like you can both have seats right here.” He directs them to the two chairs placed in front of his desk. The man goes immediately to sit but again, the woman is frozen.
“Angela, come on. Sit.” The man says over his shoulder to his wife. The lady gives Alex one last glance before bowing her head and taking a seat beside her husband.
Alex gives the couple a few moments to adjust before he persists. “So, tell me about your son. Why are you having him admitted?” Alex asks. He knows why, the file says as much. But it is principle to know what the clients’ opinions are on the matter.
The woman looks hysterical, scowling at Alex. “My son tried to kill himself, what on earth do you mean ‘Why are you having him admitted?’” She sounds displeased and Alex gives her a serene and apologetic smile.
“I apologize ma’am. Let me rephrase that.” Alex runs the words through in his head quickly before continuing, “What is it that you want me to do for him? What is your aim in sending him to a psychologist?”
The woman looks plaintively at her husband who still looks furious but seems a bit more composed now. “Jack has…Jack has issues that I think it would be better for him to see someone about.” The man says, looking down at his hands then at his wife, then at Alex.
“Okay, are these issues the presumed motive behind his actions today?” Alex presses. Never asks what the issues are until you know if the issues are relevant. No one wants to hear, “My son didn’t make the football team (irrelevant issue) so he tried to kill himself.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea that it is what made him want to-“ The man pauses. “I think it’s what made him do what he did.
Alex nods, cutting right to the chase. “So, tell me what the issues are then.”
After Alex says this, the man seems to draw a blank and the woman seems to panic. Alex waits though. Never press a patient to talk. It’s their decision to tell you these things. Plus you’re getting paid by the hour. Indulge.
“Jack, he’s…” The man looks upset for half a second before Alex sees the anger, the disappointment boiling under his skin.
“Our son is gay!” The wife blurts, going into hysterics once again. She’s shaking and sobbing like someone has just died and the man looks like he’s got more to say that he can readily express.
Alex wants to pull a South Park and say, “I’m touching that one with a fifty foot pole.” But he is really, really having trouble not getting pissed off at the two people because what the firetruck?
“So, am I right to assume that you disapprove of this?” Alex presses trying to keep his tone in the safe zone. The man finally seems to implode upon himself and then he explodes on Alex.
“Of course we disapprove! We didn’t raise our boy to want another man! We taught him that Adam loves Eve not Evan, goddammit! And we told him that he had better clean his act up. We are a family of the church and we cannot have a son that thinks he’s gay! It’s, it’s downright inhumane!” The man finishes with a nod of agreement from his wife. Alex’s fingers tighten into a fist involuntarily and he is in fucking awe of the ignorance of these people.
“Sir, Ma’am. Let me just venture out of my position of expertise for two seconds if you will?” Alex asks, keeping his voice just teetering over the edge of fuckdom. He doesn’t wait for a nod of approval though he just goes off verbatim.
“I understand that you disapprove, plenty of people do. But before you go passing inaccurate and unjust judgment on your son, why don’t you think of how your actions are affecting him, hm? He’s a seventeen year old boy, so he probably has so much uncertainty stirring inside of him it’s driving him insane. He’s in high school and if you know like I know, that isn’t the most stable period in a child’s adolescence. But those, those are all normal problems.”
Alex is bordering on furious now, one foot over the edge.
“Add to that the confusion and insecurity that comes with being anything but heterosexual in today’s society. People judging you, teasing you, hating you over something that you have absolutely no control over. You have no control over the way your heart reacts, the way your body reacts. You cannot raise a straight child nor can you raise a gay child. But you can raise a smart one. A loved and cared for one. A child that feels accepted no matter what and never has to think of hurting or even killing himself to escape the dejection of his own parents hating his lifestyle. And, if you don’t mind me saying, it doesn’t seem to me like you’ve done a great job being accepting of his choices.”
Alex takes a breath, weighs the next words to leave his lips and decides for the second time today to go balls-the-fuck-out. “If anything Mr. and Mrs. Barakat, I think you need to clean up your act. What kind of people of the church would disown their own son, flesh and blood, because they’re too close minded and ignorant to try and understand him? What kind of parents would drive their child to such extremes because they can’t find it in their empty minds to see that he’s happy with his sexuality? Finally, what kind of human beings would call their son inhuman because of his choice in sexual preference?”
The couple looks astonished and Alex seems to be getting a lot of that lately. The husband finally gains enough consciousness to speak, words thick and angry. Angry at Alex, at the truth, who’s to know?
“The kind of people that care about saving their son from an eternity of damnation!” He shouts, standing. Alex stands too and he’s about the same height as the man but he still seems to tower over the older male.
Alex makes an obnoxious buzzer sound for effect, “Wrong answer. The correct answer is “What is: The kind of people that better get the fuck out of my office before they have a lot more than their heads jammed up their asses. Thank you for playing Jeopardy, get the fuck out.” Alex gestures for the door and the couple takes two seconds to look offended before they hurry out, muttering under their breath.
When Alex is sure they’re gone he collapses back into his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration.
Well fuck.
****
A/N:
DOB: Date of Birth
POB: Place of Birth
DOA: Date of Admission
RFA: Reason for Admission
Oh hai, LJ! SO this is my first ATL fic and I decided to go AU since I know very little about the band. In fact, if you all have any up-to-date primers for me, it would make me grin like this :D Um, as for updates, I’ll try to get them in every Wednesday since I’ve got several stories going on my journal at the moment. I get the feeling this will be a good story as long as I don’t go off on too much of a tangent. Also, if you’re bored and liked this doctor AU, go check out my journal. I have a Pete/Patrick story started that is sort of similar to this called “Don’t Let the Doctor In”. So, yeah, that’ll be all. Have a great night, day or afternoon.
Oh bye!