fandom_clinic | FTEC - Wednesday Day Shift [12/6]

Wilson wouldn't claim to have slept well.

After getting home, he'd sat in the dark of their bedroom, the fire burning in the fireplace and casting the only light across the space while Wilson watched the snow fall. On a whim, he'd picked up one of his notepads and written out a letter to Aziraphale, which had helped...a little. Enough to allow the young doctor to curl up around the angel's pillow and eventually find some solace in sleep.

Walking through the softly falling snow, Wilson had stopped by the Perk for caffiene and something to eat, then headed on down to the clinic. His satchal was slung over his shoulder and he was humming some carols as he pushed through the door and waved to the night nurse.

The nurse came over to him with a group of faxed files and a worried expression on her face. While Wilson started a pot of coffee they discussed the patient in Exam 3, a Mrs. Martha Kent, admitted by Dr. Lambert the night before. Flipping through the file, Wilson's expression shifted and his shoulders slumped slightly.

Pancreatic cancer was a monster.

Sighing softly, he nodded to the nurse, who headed into the back to change shift and then he carried the file to the front desk. It never failed to anger him when cancer came to Fandom. Trolls, vampires, snow monsters, zombies...those monsters he could handle but the one he'd been trained to face down, was the boogeyman in the closet, the darkness that never seemed to want to let him go.

Damn it, Raphale...I wish you were here.

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"When Shep left," she said slowly, "I kind of fell apart. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I lost a lot of weight. Way too much, I know."

She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear and dared a quick glance at him. "I got myself back on track, but it took a long time. I didn't gain all the weight back, but I was getting there. And then when Jim left... it was like it just all started over again. Not as bad, mostly because he came back after a few weeks, but..."

She looked up at him. "Jim's really worried about me. And I told him I'm eating, I'm trying, but every now and then I feel like when he touches me he's trying to tell how much weight I've lost or if I've gained weight back and I just..." She shook her head. "Can't."

"He's concerned about you, Lana. Not trying to judge or control you." Wilson said in a gentle voice.

"Listen, let's take this one small step at a time, okay? Let me give you a vitamin B-12 shot. That should perk you up, physically a bit and might kick start the idea of being hungry. Won't hurt the concussion either. And then, come see me on Friday, I'll be up at the school covering Aziraphale's class and we can talk some more. How about it?"

"I know he's not, I do. But he feels so guilty, thinks it's all his fault, no matter what I say and I feel terrible about it." She could feel those stupid tears welling up again despite her best efforts.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. That sounds good. Vitamins today and see you on Friday. I can do that."

Studying her for a moment, Wilson reached out and very gently -so she could pull away if she wished- he wrapped her up in a supportive hug.

Lana went into his arms without hesitation and tried very hard not to cry all over his shirt. "I'm trying, I really am," she said softly.

Bah, he was sob proof and in fact he even encouraged crying with a gentle paternal rub between the shoulderblades.

"It's all right, Lana." He said gently. "You don't have to fight every single minutes. It's okay to be unhappy and upset and to cry."

She clung to him then and cried as if her heart would break - tears of fear and loss and helplessness and relief.

After a while she settled back down again and just let her head rest against his shoulders for a minute. "I'm okay now," she said. "Really I am."

As she cried, he gently transfered his soothing touch from shoulders to hair and back to shoulders, letting her cry it all out and then calm at her own pace.

When she seemed to settle, Wilson gave her a gentle squeeze but didn't try to shift her from her position against his shoulder.

"Now, what did I say about one day at a time?" He said gently. "Don't push so hard, Lana. You don't have to."

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching up to wipe her eyes. "I just want everything to be okay, to be right."

Leaning back, Wilson grabbed a box of tissues and he held them for her.

"Lana..." He started softly. "That's an admirable goal, it's something that you're right to strive for but it's almost like asking for perfection in everything and life, doesn't work that way."

She took the tissues and blotted at her face. "I try so hard to do everything right, but I just can't seem to do it. And I try to say that it's okay, nobody's perfect, but I feel like I have to try to be perfect anyway. And I just keep failing."

Taking a deep breath, Wilson stood up and moved to the counter to get Lana's vitamin shot.

"That's the pit fall of perfection, Lana. It doesn't exist except in our own minds."

Lana nodded. "I just... part of me just can't help but feel that if I was better that..."

She ducked her head again. "That people would stop leaving me," she said very softly. "And I know that's not the way it works, but I don't know how to stop."

"It's hard." Wilson acknowledged, turning back with the syringe in his hand.

"And I could stand here all day and tell you that it wasn't the case." He said softly, dark eyes gentle. "But...what might be the more important question is, why do you feel it important to punish yourself so greviously for the free will of others?"

"But it's not their free will," Lana replied, loking distraught. "They die, they're killed, they're taken somewhere against their will. I'm afraid to get close to people because I know something terrible will happen to them. I... I think maybe I'm cursed or something. It just feels like it's -"

She didn't actually say it, but the 'my fault' almost echoed in the room anyway.

Coming back over to where she was sitting, Wilson hunkered down on his heels and looked up at her.

"Lana, listen to yourself. You're trying to take on responsibilities for all the unfortunate events in the world."

"I guess I am," she said softly. "I guess I just feel that there should be something I could do."

"Hurting yourself...isn't it, Lana." Wilson said with gentle understanding.

"I... never thought about it that way, but...." Lana bit her lip. "Maybe..."

Giving her hands a squeeze, Wilson stood up and motioned for her to roll up her sleeve.

"Maybe...is a good start." He said softly as he gave her the shot. "And we'll just take the next day as it comes."

Lana nodded and rolled her sleeve back down. "Okay. I guess I'll see you on Friday then. Thank you."

FTEC - Wednesday Day Shift [12/6]

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