the lives of others (iii)
title the lives of others
pairings in no particular order: karim benzema/yoann gourcuff, xabi alonso/steven gerrard, sergio ramos/fernando torres, iker casillas/cesc fabregas, david villa/david silva, guti/raul, implied gonzalo higuain/fernando gago
rating r
word count 14,439 (and to think, i used to only write drabbles!)
summary the long awaited (kind of) hospital!au.
“She’ll have to start treatment soon, for the best chance it’ll work,” Iker explained. Guti nodded. “We are going to have to do a few surgeries, so we’ll need to start looking for a blood match as soon as possible. Are either of you her biological parent?”
“Raul is, and Mamen was our surrogate,” Guti replied. Concern was clearly etched onto his face, and his piercing blue eyes were heavy with sadness. Even though Iker had only known the family for a few days, he could see what Cesc meant about Maria; she was precious to Raul and Guti, their baby girl. He already felt protective over her -over them- even though he knew that she probably wouldn’t make it.
“We’ll start with checking the two of them, then, as there’s a good chance one of them will be a match.”
“And if they aren’t…?” Guti asked.
“There’s a donor bank. I can pull some strings and get her on the top of the list, but if there isn’t a match, there isn’t much we can do,” Iker explained, lacing his fingers together and looking down. He’d been at this job for nearly eight years, and he still wasn’t used to delivering bad news. “We need a marrow transplant, which is a very painful operation. Hopefully there will be a match willing to undergo the surgery.”
“You can test me, too,” Guti said. “Just in case. I’m not her biological father or anything, but it’s worth a try, right?”
Iker could read the desperation on the older man’s face as clear as day. He nodded. “We’ll definitely test you. Once Maria’s set up in the wing, we’ll start running tests to see how far this has developed, and start her on chemo as soon as we can.” Iker sighed and unlaced his fingers. “I don’t need to tell you this, I’m sure, but she’s going to need every ounce of support you and Raul can give her. It’s going to be a very tough, painful, uphill battle. Don’t let her see that you’re upset, okay? Don’t do anything that might upset her. Stay positive for her.”
Guti pressed his lips together in a straight line and nodded. “We’ll do anything we can to make it better.”
“I know.”
--
“I think we’re good here for now,” Stevie said, clapping Sergio on the back. Sergio blinked a few times, eyes bleary. The clock on the wall said 1:15 AM, which meant Sergio had been working for roughly twelve hours. He hadn’t had to do that since last year’s flu epidemic. “Go home, get some sleep, get some food. Come back tomorrow at 9, you’re scheduled for three surgeries.”
“Fuck. Yeah, okay.” Sergio tried to calculate how much sleep that would leave him with, but his eyes were already fluttering shut.
“Hey, you know where Xabi is? I’ll need to get him down here for the night shift, Karim’s about to pass out,” Stevie asked.
Sergio raised an eyebrow. “Break room, third floor. Don’t tell him I told you. Also, if you want him, just let him know, I think you’re confusing him.”
“Like you’re one to give relationship advice,” Stevie laughed. “Try doing the same with Fer.”
Sergio glared. “I’m leaving.”
--
“Hey, need a lift?”
Fernando looked up to see Sergio, sitting in his Audi with the window rolled down. Fernando shrugged as much as he could, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders already hunched up around his ears, trying to keep warm. February was his least favorite month of the year, cold and gray.
“Seriously, hop in.”
Trying not to look too grateful, Fernando walked over to the passenger side and slid into the sports car. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“It’s no problem. What happened to your car?”
“Took it to the shop this weekend, I’m having brake problems. They said I should have it back next week, so I figured I could take the bus or the metro until then.” Fernando shrugged.
Sergio nodded. “Where do you live?” Fernando rattled off the address. “Dude, that’s the other side of town!”
“Hey, you were the one who offered me a ride,” Fernando said, raising an eyebrow and feeling the corner of his mouth curl into a grin despite himself. It was so hard not to flirt with Sergio.
“What time do you have to be in tomorrow?”
“7:30, I’ve got a consult at 8,” Fernando replied.
“Why don’t you just stay at mine? It’s closer, I’ve got to be in early too…It’ll save you bus fare, and I cook a mean breakfast,” Sergio offered, trying not to let his words get too jumbled.
It was Fernando’s first instinct to say no. This was probably just another ploy to get him to sleep with the Sevillan; just another one of his ‘friendly’ gestures that would end up in a one night stand and Fernando’s heart broken. But. It was almost 2AM, and to get to the other side of town would take at least a half an hour, and that would leave Fernando with almost no sleep, really. Fernando bit his lip.
“Seriously, I’ve got a nice guest room. Clean sheets and everything.”
Fernando released his lip and nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’ll be good. Thanks.”
Sergio let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
--
“Coffee?”
Fernando stumbled a little, bleary eyed. His blond hair was sticking up in wild tufts and the sweatpants he’d borrowed from Sergio were too big for him, hanging low on his hips. His t-shirt was riding up as he rubbed his eyes and Sergio couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tantalizing strip of pale, freckled tummy that was exposed.
“Mmm, yes please,” Fernando replied, pulling himself onto one of the bar stools that were lined up near the kitchen island. Sergio blinked a few times before he could refocus enough to pour two cups of coffee without burning himself.
“There’s yogurt, eggs, cereal…You can help yourself to just about anything,” he told Fernando, setting the steaming mug of coffee in front of the blond. He pulled up a stool across from Fernando and cupped his own mug in his hands.
“Thanks for this,” Fernando said, bringing his eyes up to meet Sergio’s for the first time that morning. The Sevillan felt a bolt of electricity go through him. “For everything, I mean. You didn’t have to.”
Sergio shrugged. “Like I said, it’s no problem.” He paused. “I like you.”
Fernando frowned a little, then dropped his gaze to stare at his coffee, instead.
“Fuck! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! That came out wrong. Shit.” Sergio felt like slapping himself. Finally, finally, Fernando was starting to behave less like a frightened rabbit around him, and now he had to go and scare him off all over again? “I’m an idiot, Fer, I’m sorry. I just meant- I mean, I know you think I just want into your pants, well, that’s what Xabi told me, and sure, I’d like that just fine, but I also like you, you know? I like hanging out with you and just, talking or whatever, fuck. I’m explaining this all wrong.” Sergio looked at Fernando for a response, and when he didn’t receive one, he brought his mug to his lips, frantically gulping down some coffee. “Fuck! Shit that’s hot!” The Sevillan leapt up, getting a glass and downing some cold water. If he hadn’t scared Fernando off before, the Madrileno certainly thought he was a madman now.
“You what?” Fernando asked slowly, feeling a little bit like he was underwater.
Sergio gripped the edge of the sink. “I like you, Fer. I mean, I thought that was pretty obvious, and clearly I’m shit at explaining things, but I like you.”
“I thought you just wanted to sleep with me,” Fernando said quietly, biting the inside of his lip.
“Well I wouldn’t say no, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sergio said, laughing hollowly. “But you probably think I’m crazy now anyway, so I guess that’s water under the bridge. But that wasn’t the- the end goal, I guess.”
“The end goal? I’m a prize, now?”
“Fuck! See, I can’t- I don’t have words, I’m not like Xabi or Iker,” Sergio moaned. “Maybe at first I just wanted to sleep with you. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you tug the ends of your hair when you’re thinking, or how you bite your lip when you’re upset, or how you drink your coffee with two packets of sugar and no cream, or how you always know every detail about your patients lives and you really, really care about them, enough to stay in the observation room for 7 hours during marathon surgery. And then I was talking with Xabi and he went on about how you’re a relationship guy, and I don’t know. I’m not one, but just. I could be one, you know. For you. With you. If you want.”
Sergio felt fingers fluttering at his wrist, and he turned away from the sink. Fernando was inches away from him, his eyes clear and bright, the imprint of the pillow still red on his freckled cheek. “I want that,” he whispered. “Of course I want that. But I was so scared that you would just leave me after you got what you wanted. I don’t do things like that.”
“I know that, now, anyway,” Sergio whispered back. Fernando’s fingers ghosted up his arm, stopping when they hit the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. “You really want this?”
“Mmm. Yes.” Fernando nodded, his lips curving into a happy grin. It was the most beautiful thing Sergio had ever seen. “You’re not going to leave me all of a sudden, are you?”
“God, Fernando, no. Have you been listening at all?” Sergio growled, and then he was centimeters away from Fernando. He could feel the taller man’s breath ghosting over his cheeks, and he brought himself up to his full height to brush a carefully chaste kiss against Fernando’s lips.
Fernando’s lips molded to his, sliding together, a little awkward at first, but then Sergio reached up, cupped his hand around the back of Fernando’s head, adjusting the angle, and then the kiss was smooth, full of intent. After a moment, Sergio let his tongue slip out, teasing at Fernando’s lips, begging for entrance. He found himself pinned the counter in response, Fernando’s hands planted on either side of his hips, trapping him against the sink with his long body. Fernando’s lips parted and Sergio felt lightheaded as their tongues brushed for the first time.
“Fuck, what time is it?”
Sergio groaned, letting his head drop to Fernando’s shoulder, mouthing at the skin there. Fernando shivered. “We have to go,” he said gently, running a hand up Sergio’s back to tangle his fingers in the hair curling gently at the base of the Sevillan’s skull.
--
“Mamen’s not a match.”
“Neither is Raul.”
Cesc blinked hard a few times, willing his mind to come up with a solution. “Guti?”
“Checked him yesterday, he’s not a match.” Iker bit his lip. “I’ll talk to Stevie this afternoon and get her at the top of the waiting list, I promise,” he told Cesc.
Worry was written all over Cesc’s face, just as clearly as it was over Guti’s, and Raul’s, and even Mamen’s. Iker felt his stomach bottom out and he groaned a little. He felt like he was bearing all of the weight of the case, the expectations from Maria’s entire family, from Cesc. He didn’t deserve the trust they were giving him, and he was letting them down. Intellectually, he knew it wasn’t his fault. None of this was his fault. That didn’t make him feel any better. He let his shoulders slump a little and he tried to rub the creases out of his forehead.
“Maybe someone from that accident yesterday will be a match,” he offered. Cesc shrugged.
“We can hope.”
Iker leaned against the door to Cesc’s office. He was used to bearing the expectations; the weight of the trust families gave him. He just wasn’t used to caring this much, this quickly. He’d long ago conditioned himself to never get too attached to his patients, to develop as much of a relationship as would make them feel comfortable and never make things personal. But after only a week, he felt as if he’d known Raul and Guti forever. He didn’t want to let them down.
Cesc stood up and moved over to the doorway. “I’m gonna go get some lunch, you want?”
Iker shook his head. “Don’t have time,” he mumbled. “I’ve got to head down to the clinic in a few minutes, I’ve got a few follow-ups to deal with. And I’ll see if there’s a match down there, while I’m at it.”
“Okay.” Cesc surged forward and wrapped Iker in a tight hug. He was strong and wiry, despite his small stature, and Iker hugged back tentatively. When Cesc pulled back, it felt like some small part of the weight had been lifted off of Iker’s shoulders. He smiled shyly at the Catalan.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Just. For being optimistic, you know? For not giving up. For keeping me sane, here,” Iker said, shrugging. “It’s hard sometimes, you know? To stay yourself.”
“I don’t know, actually,” Cesc said. “I usually just deal with flu patients who only need a little cough medicine and some sleep. But I’m starting to get a good idea of what you mean.”
Iker nodded. “It’s hard to stay human, I guess is what I’m saying. It’s hard not to be cold and calculating and uncaring, because when you care, you run the risk of getting hurt, and in this department, you get hurt more often than not.”
Cesc squeezed Iker’s shoulder as he slid past the oncologist on his way out. “You’re doing a good job of staying human.”
--
“Hey, Karim.”
“Hi, Iker.”
“Good weekend?” Iker grabbed the first folder off of the stack and began flipping through it.
“Yes. Went to the Real Madrid match with Yoann and Sergio, yes? Was good. They won.”
“Ah, I’m a little jealous of you! I was on call, otherwise I might’ve gone.”
“You like them?”
“Oh yes. Best team in the world, Madrid.”
“Oy! That would be Liverpool, actually,” Stevie called out jovially, clapping Iker on the shoulder. “But you’ve just been misguided yer whole life, I forgive you. So, what was that favor you wanted?”
“You know Maria Gonzales?”
“Yeah, she’s Cesc’s patient, right? Saw her name on the blood transfusion list.” Stevie nodded, tapping his fingers against the counter.
“I need her at the top of the list.”
“No can-do, Iker, you know that.”
“I’ll do anything, Stevie, just get this girl on the top. Please?”
Stevie paused in his finger tapping. “You get Xabi to go out with me, I’ll move her up.”
“Done.”
--
As attuned as he usually was to Yoann’s every move, Karim jumped a little to see his friend leaning against the desk as he turned around his swivel chair. He hadn’t heard the surgeon approaching.
“Dinner?” Yoann asked by way of greeting. “I’ve got a half an hour, haven’t seen you since the game, might be nice.”
Karim checked his watch. “Hang around for ten minutes? Gotta wait for Xabi to get here.”
Yoann nodded, and the two Frenchmen settled into a comfortable silence. It was the kind of silence that only came with years of friendship and or wordless understanding, the kind that was sometimes more comfortable than conversation. Karim was grateful for that silence, for its comfort, but he was also sad, knowing that that was all he would ever have.
“So! Xabi’s checked out for the day, express orders by Stevie, and I’m on!”
Their silence was shattered by Pipita, clattering noisily into the nurses’ station, armed with a clipboard and a stethoscope swinging dangerously around his wrist. Karim stood up laughing. “Not your job, though, Pip?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, well. What don’t I do around here?” Higuain shrugged. “Besides, I know how to take someone’s temperature and operate a crash cart. And you’ll be back soon anyway, so really, I think I’ll be okay. If you bring me some soup, of course.” Pipita sneezed.
“Sick?” Karim fumbled in the pocket of his scrub pants for a packet of Kleenex before pulling it out and offering it to the Argentine.
“Thanks! Now go. I want chicken soup. Ask for Gago, in the kitchen, tell him I wanted it.”
“Gago, eh?” Yoann waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh, shut up, it’s not like you don’t spend most of your time making eyes at this one,” Pipita giggled, nudging Karim with his elbow. Karim felt his face heat up. Yoann stuttered a little bit. “Gooooo. Bring me soup. Goodbye.”
--
“I don’t, you know,” Yoann mumbled, swallowing a forkful of rice.
The words stung Karim like barbs, and he took a large gulp of soda to avoid answering. He knew Yoann never spared him a second glance, platonic or otherwise. He knew that he was Yoann’s best friend, and would remain so until the end of his days. He didn’t really want to be reminded.
“I know,” he finally replied, and there was a little more venom in his voice than he’d intended.
--
part four
pairings in no particular order: karim benzema/yoann gourcuff, xabi alonso/steven gerrard, sergio ramos/fernando torres, iker casillas/cesc fabregas, david villa/david silva, guti/raul, implied gonzalo higuain/fernando gago
rating r
word count 14,439 (and to think, i used to only write drabbles!)
summary the long awaited (kind of) hospital!au.
“She’ll have to start treatment soon, for the best chance it’ll work,” Iker explained. Guti nodded. “We are going to have to do a few surgeries, so we’ll need to start looking for a blood match as soon as possible. Are either of you her biological parent?”
“Raul is, and Mamen was our surrogate,” Guti replied. Concern was clearly etched onto his face, and his piercing blue eyes were heavy with sadness. Even though Iker had only known the family for a few days, he could see what Cesc meant about Maria; she was precious to Raul and Guti, their baby girl. He already felt protective over her -over them- even though he knew that she probably wouldn’t make it.
“We’ll start with checking the two of them, then, as there’s a good chance one of them will be a match.”
“And if they aren’t…?” Guti asked.
“There’s a donor bank. I can pull some strings and get her on the top of the list, but if there isn’t a match, there isn’t much we can do,” Iker explained, lacing his fingers together and looking down. He’d been at this job for nearly eight years, and he still wasn’t used to delivering bad news. “We need a marrow transplant, which is a very painful operation. Hopefully there will be a match willing to undergo the surgery.”
“You can test me, too,” Guti said. “Just in case. I’m not her biological father or anything, but it’s worth a try, right?”
Iker could read the desperation on the older man’s face as clear as day. He nodded. “We’ll definitely test you. Once Maria’s set up in the wing, we’ll start running tests to see how far this has developed, and start her on chemo as soon as we can.” Iker sighed and unlaced his fingers. “I don’t need to tell you this, I’m sure, but she’s going to need every ounce of support you and Raul can give her. It’s going to be a very tough, painful, uphill battle. Don’t let her see that you’re upset, okay? Don’t do anything that might upset her. Stay positive for her.”
Guti pressed his lips together in a straight line and nodded. “We’ll do anything we can to make it better.”
“I know.”
--
“I think we’re good here for now,” Stevie said, clapping Sergio on the back. Sergio blinked a few times, eyes bleary. The clock on the wall said 1:15 AM, which meant Sergio had been working for roughly twelve hours. He hadn’t had to do that since last year’s flu epidemic. “Go home, get some sleep, get some food. Come back tomorrow at 9, you’re scheduled for three surgeries.”
“Fuck. Yeah, okay.” Sergio tried to calculate how much sleep that would leave him with, but his eyes were already fluttering shut.
“Hey, you know where Xabi is? I’ll need to get him down here for the night shift, Karim’s about to pass out,” Stevie asked.
Sergio raised an eyebrow. “Break room, third floor. Don’t tell him I told you. Also, if you want him, just let him know, I think you’re confusing him.”
“Like you’re one to give relationship advice,” Stevie laughed. “Try doing the same with Fer.”
Sergio glared. “I’m leaving.”
--
“Hey, need a lift?”
Fernando looked up to see Sergio, sitting in his Audi with the window rolled down. Fernando shrugged as much as he could, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders already hunched up around his ears, trying to keep warm. February was his least favorite month of the year, cold and gray.
“Seriously, hop in.”
Trying not to look too grateful, Fernando walked over to the passenger side and slid into the sports car. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“It’s no problem. What happened to your car?”
“Took it to the shop this weekend, I’m having brake problems. They said I should have it back next week, so I figured I could take the bus or the metro until then.” Fernando shrugged.
Sergio nodded. “Where do you live?” Fernando rattled off the address. “Dude, that’s the other side of town!”
“Hey, you were the one who offered me a ride,” Fernando said, raising an eyebrow and feeling the corner of his mouth curl into a grin despite himself. It was so hard not to flirt with Sergio.
“What time do you have to be in tomorrow?”
“7:30, I’ve got a consult at 8,” Fernando replied.
“Why don’t you just stay at mine? It’s closer, I’ve got to be in early too…It’ll save you bus fare, and I cook a mean breakfast,” Sergio offered, trying not to let his words get too jumbled.
It was Fernando’s first instinct to say no. This was probably just another ploy to get him to sleep with the Sevillan; just another one of his ‘friendly’ gestures that would end up in a one night stand and Fernando’s heart broken. But. It was almost 2AM, and to get to the other side of town would take at least a half an hour, and that would leave Fernando with almost no sleep, really. Fernando bit his lip.
“Seriously, I’ve got a nice guest room. Clean sheets and everything.”
Fernando released his lip and nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’ll be good. Thanks.”
Sergio let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
--
“Coffee?”
Fernando stumbled a little, bleary eyed. His blond hair was sticking up in wild tufts and the sweatpants he’d borrowed from Sergio were too big for him, hanging low on his hips. His t-shirt was riding up as he rubbed his eyes and Sergio couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tantalizing strip of pale, freckled tummy that was exposed.
“Mmm, yes please,” Fernando replied, pulling himself onto one of the bar stools that were lined up near the kitchen island. Sergio blinked a few times before he could refocus enough to pour two cups of coffee without burning himself.
“There’s yogurt, eggs, cereal…You can help yourself to just about anything,” he told Fernando, setting the steaming mug of coffee in front of the blond. He pulled up a stool across from Fernando and cupped his own mug in his hands.
“Thanks for this,” Fernando said, bringing his eyes up to meet Sergio’s for the first time that morning. The Sevillan felt a bolt of electricity go through him. “For everything, I mean. You didn’t have to.”
Sergio shrugged. “Like I said, it’s no problem.” He paused. “I like you.”
Fernando frowned a little, then dropped his gaze to stare at his coffee, instead.
“Fuck! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! That came out wrong. Shit.” Sergio felt like slapping himself. Finally, finally, Fernando was starting to behave less like a frightened rabbit around him, and now he had to go and scare him off all over again? “I’m an idiot, Fer, I’m sorry. I just meant- I mean, I know you think I just want into your pants, well, that’s what Xabi told me, and sure, I’d like that just fine, but I also like you, you know? I like hanging out with you and just, talking or whatever, fuck. I’m explaining this all wrong.” Sergio looked at Fernando for a response, and when he didn’t receive one, he brought his mug to his lips, frantically gulping down some coffee. “Fuck! Shit that’s hot!” The Sevillan leapt up, getting a glass and downing some cold water. If he hadn’t scared Fernando off before, the Madrileno certainly thought he was a madman now.
“You what?” Fernando asked slowly, feeling a little bit like he was underwater.
Sergio gripped the edge of the sink. “I like you, Fer. I mean, I thought that was pretty obvious, and clearly I’m shit at explaining things, but I like you.”
“I thought you just wanted to sleep with me,” Fernando said quietly, biting the inside of his lip.
“Well I wouldn’t say no, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sergio said, laughing hollowly. “But you probably think I’m crazy now anyway, so I guess that’s water under the bridge. But that wasn’t the- the end goal, I guess.”
“The end goal? I’m a prize, now?”
“Fuck! See, I can’t- I don’t have words, I’m not like Xabi or Iker,” Sergio moaned. “Maybe at first I just wanted to sleep with you. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you tug the ends of your hair when you’re thinking, or how you bite your lip when you’re upset, or how you drink your coffee with two packets of sugar and no cream, or how you always know every detail about your patients lives and you really, really care about them, enough to stay in the observation room for 7 hours during marathon surgery. And then I was talking with Xabi and he went on about how you’re a relationship guy, and I don’t know. I’m not one, but just. I could be one, you know. For you. With you. If you want.”
Sergio felt fingers fluttering at his wrist, and he turned away from the sink. Fernando was inches away from him, his eyes clear and bright, the imprint of the pillow still red on his freckled cheek. “I want that,” he whispered. “Of course I want that. But I was so scared that you would just leave me after you got what you wanted. I don’t do things like that.”
“I know that, now, anyway,” Sergio whispered back. Fernando’s fingers ghosted up his arm, stopping when they hit the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. “You really want this?”
“Mmm. Yes.” Fernando nodded, his lips curving into a happy grin. It was the most beautiful thing Sergio had ever seen. “You’re not going to leave me all of a sudden, are you?”
“God, Fernando, no. Have you been listening at all?” Sergio growled, and then he was centimeters away from Fernando. He could feel the taller man’s breath ghosting over his cheeks, and he brought himself up to his full height to brush a carefully chaste kiss against Fernando’s lips.
Fernando’s lips molded to his, sliding together, a little awkward at first, but then Sergio reached up, cupped his hand around the back of Fernando’s head, adjusting the angle, and then the kiss was smooth, full of intent. After a moment, Sergio let his tongue slip out, teasing at Fernando’s lips, begging for entrance. He found himself pinned the counter in response, Fernando’s hands planted on either side of his hips, trapping him against the sink with his long body. Fernando’s lips parted and Sergio felt lightheaded as their tongues brushed for the first time.
“Fuck, what time is it?”
Sergio groaned, letting his head drop to Fernando’s shoulder, mouthing at the skin there. Fernando shivered. “We have to go,” he said gently, running a hand up Sergio’s back to tangle his fingers in the hair curling gently at the base of the Sevillan’s skull.
--
“Mamen’s not a match.”
“Neither is Raul.”
Cesc blinked hard a few times, willing his mind to come up with a solution. “Guti?”
“Checked him yesterday, he’s not a match.” Iker bit his lip. “I’ll talk to Stevie this afternoon and get her at the top of the waiting list, I promise,” he told Cesc.
Worry was written all over Cesc’s face, just as clearly as it was over Guti’s, and Raul’s, and even Mamen’s. Iker felt his stomach bottom out and he groaned a little. He felt like he was bearing all of the weight of the case, the expectations from Maria’s entire family, from Cesc. He didn’t deserve the trust they were giving him, and he was letting them down. Intellectually, he knew it wasn’t his fault. None of this was his fault. That didn’t make him feel any better. He let his shoulders slump a little and he tried to rub the creases out of his forehead.
“Maybe someone from that accident yesterday will be a match,” he offered. Cesc shrugged.
“We can hope.”
Iker leaned against the door to Cesc’s office. He was used to bearing the expectations; the weight of the trust families gave him. He just wasn’t used to caring this much, this quickly. He’d long ago conditioned himself to never get too attached to his patients, to develop as much of a relationship as would make them feel comfortable and never make things personal. But after only a week, he felt as if he’d known Raul and Guti forever. He didn’t want to let them down.
Cesc stood up and moved over to the doorway. “I’m gonna go get some lunch, you want?”
Iker shook his head. “Don’t have time,” he mumbled. “I’ve got to head down to the clinic in a few minutes, I’ve got a few follow-ups to deal with. And I’ll see if there’s a match down there, while I’m at it.”
“Okay.” Cesc surged forward and wrapped Iker in a tight hug. He was strong and wiry, despite his small stature, and Iker hugged back tentatively. When Cesc pulled back, it felt like some small part of the weight had been lifted off of Iker’s shoulders. He smiled shyly at the Catalan.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Just. For being optimistic, you know? For not giving up. For keeping me sane, here,” Iker said, shrugging. “It’s hard sometimes, you know? To stay yourself.”
“I don’t know, actually,” Cesc said. “I usually just deal with flu patients who only need a little cough medicine and some sleep. But I’m starting to get a good idea of what you mean.”
Iker nodded. “It’s hard to stay human, I guess is what I’m saying. It’s hard not to be cold and calculating and uncaring, because when you care, you run the risk of getting hurt, and in this department, you get hurt more often than not.”
Cesc squeezed Iker’s shoulder as he slid past the oncologist on his way out. “You’re doing a good job of staying human.”
--
“Hey, Karim.”
“Hi, Iker.”
“Good weekend?” Iker grabbed the first folder off of the stack and began flipping through it.
“Yes. Went to the Real Madrid match with Yoann and Sergio, yes? Was good. They won.”
“Ah, I’m a little jealous of you! I was on call, otherwise I might’ve gone.”
“You like them?”
“Oh yes. Best team in the world, Madrid.”
“Oy! That would be Liverpool, actually,” Stevie called out jovially, clapping Iker on the shoulder. “But you’ve just been misguided yer whole life, I forgive you. So, what was that favor you wanted?”
“You know Maria Gonzales?”
“Yeah, she’s Cesc’s patient, right? Saw her name on the blood transfusion list.” Stevie nodded, tapping his fingers against the counter.
“I need her at the top of the list.”
“No can-do, Iker, you know that.”
“I’ll do anything, Stevie, just get this girl on the top. Please?”
Stevie paused in his finger tapping. “You get Xabi to go out with me, I’ll move her up.”
“Done.”
--
As attuned as he usually was to Yoann’s every move, Karim jumped a little to see his friend leaning against the desk as he turned around his swivel chair. He hadn’t heard the surgeon approaching.
“Dinner?” Yoann asked by way of greeting. “I’ve got a half an hour, haven’t seen you since the game, might be nice.”
Karim checked his watch. “Hang around for ten minutes? Gotta wait for Xabi to get here.”
Yoann nodded, and the two Frenchmen settled into a comfortable silence. It was the kind of silence that only came with years of friendship and or wordless understanding, the kind that was sometimes more comfortable than conversation. Karim was grateful for that silence, for its comfort, but he was also sad, knowing that that was all he would ever have.
“So! Xabi’s checked out for the day, express orders by Stevie, and I’m on!”
Their silence was shattered by Pipita, clattering noisily into the nurses’ station, armed with a clipboard and a stethoscope swinging dangerously around his wrist. Karim stood up laughing. “Not your job, though, Pip?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, well. What don’t I do around here?” Higuain shrugged. “Besides, I know how to take someone’s temperature and operate a crash cart. And you’ll be back soon anyway, so really, I think I’ll be okay. If you bring me some soup, of course.” Pipita sneezed.
“Sick?” Karim fumbled in the pocket of his scrub pants for a packet of Kleenex before pulling it out and offering it to the Argentine.
“Thanks! Now go. I want chicken soup. Ask for Gago, in the kitchen, tell him I wanted it.”
“Gago, eh?” Yoann waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh, shut up, it’s not like you don’t spend most of your time making eyes at this one,” Pipita giggled, nudging Karim with his elbow. Karim felt his face heat up. Yoann stuttered a little bit. “Gooooo. Bring me soup. Goodbye.”
--
“I don’t, you know,” Yoann mumbled, swallowing a forkful of rice.
The words stung Karim like barbs, and he took a large gulp of soda to avoid answering. He knew Yoann never spared him a second glance, platonic or otherwise. He knew that he was Yoann’s best friend, and would remain so until the end of his days. He didn’t really want to be reminded.
“I know,” he finally replied, and there was a little more venom in his voice than he’d intended.
--
part four