fandom_clinic | FTEC - Saturday Night 10/14

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FTEC - Saturday Night 10/14

Whistleing cheerfully, Wilson headed into the clinic for the Saturday night shift. He carried a maple latte in one hand and over his good shoulder rested his satchel. He was still grading papers from Thursday's test and also had a few crossword puzzles to entertain himself with if the evening was slow.

Setting everything down at the front desk, he started a pot of Kona coffee for the night, then unpacked his laptop and papers. A small radio also made an apperance quickly plugged in and dialed to a station that played classical, insturmental jazz and big band on Saturday nights.

Thus, he was settled in for a long, hopefully quiet, evening at the clinic.

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"It wasn't him." Wilson said without hesitation, reaching out to grip Bel's shoulder as he finished off the last of the bandages and stood up wheeling away the tray.

"You don't belong there, Bel." He said softly as he began to put together the care package to send home with the young man.

"Your soul gives you Free Will and you've exercised that and faced down some hard choices with Grace. I know..." Wilson paused and turned towards his friend. "Bel, I know you're struggling right now and I won't even pretend to be able to even imagine what it's like but you're doing good."

"I'm trying," Bel said with a half smile. "But seeing him there like that, telling me how disappointed he was in me, it was hard. But I knew it couldn't really be him because his spirit is...I don't know where it is anymore. But he's not there."

Wilson smiled softly and nodded.

"Hard to reconcile the heart to the mind? In my limited experience that seems to be a demon's dirtiest trick. Taking the face of a loved one and attacking us with thier likeness. It's psychological warfare at it's finest."

Giving a gentle shrug, he then made a bit of a face. "And it doesn't even have to be a demon's trick. Our own minds can turn on us in some horrific fashions. My worst nightmares don't involve blood or even demon attacks. They're simply Amanda's voice, asking me why, Daddy."

Bel nodded. "Yeah, I suppose it could be some of my own fears come to life. I sometimes wonder what my dad would think of me now. He tried to save me from being a demon, but...he didn't make it."

He looked at Wilson. "You have a kid?"

You saw nothing....

These are not the droids...

Studying Bel for a moment, Wilson smiled gently. "Maybe he made it more than you realize, Bel." Wilson said gently.

Then he turned and finished packing up Bel's little take home package.

"In...a manner of speaking. Last year before I came to Fandom, my ex wife was pregnant with a little girl. She terminated the pregnancy because she believed I should be punished for the patients I lost to cancer."

Really, Wilson did believe Aziraphale and Crowley were right on one thing, the demons of Hell could take lessons from the torture humans could deliver upon each other.

Bel blinked. Sometimes he forgot that humans could be as evil and twisted as any demon. "I'm sorry," he said, not sure what else to say.

Wilson gave Bel and understanding smile and simply said, "Thank you."

Then he handed the package of gauze pads, bandages, betadine and ointment towards the young man.

"For what it's worth, I think your father would consider his hope for your fulfilled, in your love for Phoebe and where it's led you."

Bel took the package, then set it beside him and reached for his shirt, pulling it back over his head. "Yeah, I guess," he said, "but the things I've done in between...."

"Bel, none of us are perfect. We make mistakes and sometimes, we spend our whole lives trying to atone for them." Wilson said with a rueful little smile that might have hinted at some atoning of his own.

"Okay, clean...twice a day, call me if you get a fever or notice redness, swelling, tenderness or pain around the slashmarks."

Bel chuckled. "I'm sure Phoebe will be checking on me every day," he said. "She'll make sure I heal up okay."

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FTEC - Saturday Night 10/14

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