hospital food sucks
3
Regulus’ four days off pass by quickly after his night out with Barty were they responsibly used alcohol therapy to revive Barty from weekend with his parents. Regulus spends Tuesday sleeping off the hangover and catching up on the much-needed sleep he didn’t get after his nightshift. Wednesday and Thursday he spends holed up in his flat studying for his exam in December. Barty, Evan and Pandora come round the Thursday evening when he refuses to go out due to be being back on shift Friday. Regulus only allows them in when Pandora holds up a large bag of takeaway Chinese.
His first three shifts of four are day shifts. There’s no solid correlation as too if days or night shifts are more likely to overrun. Regulus just always assumes he won’t be leaving the hospital on time as it’s normally once in a blue moon he actually manages it.
It’s a perks of being one of the top doctors on a busy neurology ward; people always want or need you even if your shift ends in a mere 10 minutes.
His third shift is a warm Sunday. It’s quiet, thankfully. They had a trauma come in first thing, and by the time noon comes around the patient is already under the knife in the operating room.
Regulus’ favourite regular is in - a funny 23 year old called Derek with a learning disability that has helped keep his mind beautifully innocent and adolescent. The first time Regulus met Derek, he was still in his studies and training, and was absolutely terrified of looking after someone with such complex needs that Regulus hadn’t dealt with yet. Regulus had fallen in love with the guy when the second time he was admitted on one of his shifts, when Barty had come up to the ward to bring Regulus a sandwich while Regulus was taking Derek’s observations and Derek had called Barty the ugliest person he’s ever seen. Regulus has to excuse himself to quite literally collapse outside Derek’s room and laugh like he was on happy gas while Barty kicked him in the shins.
Derek’s mother is kind too, very patient with her son and the doctors that can rarely do anything for her son apart from monitor him after he has seizures because Derek likes to spit his medications out every now and then.
All in all, the two are a pleasure to have in the ward. Despite it never being nice to see people become regulars, especially when it involves their brain not working as its pathologically meant too, but Derek is a torch of light in the ward when he’s in.
Regulus also likes it when Derek calls him his favourite. Especially in front of Euphemia and Dorcas, as they say Regulus is too mean to be any patients favourite. It makes him feel incredibly smug, and he has no shame in hiding it.
His peaceful morning is shattered when his pager goes off in his pocket the same time that Dorcas comes jogging up to the reception desk where he’s sitting typing out the observations he took for Derek on the last ward round.
"We’ve got a trauma coming in. They need us down in emergency when they bring him in," Dorcas states, slamming her palms on the desk top before making her way to the lift. Regulus follows her, both of them borderline running down the ward. She smacks the elevator button impatiently.
"What do we already know?" Regulus asks.
Very often when a trauma call is coming into the emergency department and they know it’s going to be a large spinal or brain injury they call down doctors from neurology so they have specialists to analyse and diagnose as quickly as possible.
"Male. 45 years old. Fell down the stairs at home. Suspected c-spine damage and head injury," Dorcas lists as they step into the elevator.
"That all?"
"That and he’s en-route fast so we need to get our asses down there ASAP. I’ve already paged Slughorn to keep an OR free. Paramedics are suspecting intracranial hepatoma as well as cervical fracture."
Regulus nods with a tired huff. "Fantastic."
"Good thing they’re got the dream team coming down, eh?" Dorcas smirks at him.
Regulus’ lips twitch. "Couldn’t have said it better myself."
Regulus and Dorcas are often too referred as the 'neurology dream team', much to Regulus' demise. They very often work together, and both enjoy working on trauma patients in their speciality. They seem to think on the same brain wave in complex situations and work very well in a duo. Calm and collected, they are very good at keeping stressful situations down to a minimum.
The elevator dings on the ground floor. Stepping out, the mood in them shifts like a strike of thunder cutting through a sky. Regulus has learnt to adjust to the atmosphere of the emergency pits and not to get immediately sucked into the panicking adrenaline it seems to be want to suffocate you with.
Accident and emergency is often filled with intense and unnerved patients, people in pain, blood spotted blankets, nurses and students running around like headless chickens. It's very easy when someone isn't used to it to get dragged into the fervent heart-racing notions at keeping patients in resus stabilised, or the angered people who have waited for hours to stay calm, or to not be overwhelmed with fright at the sight of a gushing head wound that isn't usually that bad under the smeared pool of blood.
It’s a past-passed process when trauma patients come in, and always sports a dauntingly large team that rush to take the handover from paramedics while they’re trying to get the patient on the hospital bed and attach enough wires and cords to give a mother a heart attack.
In sync, Regulus and Dorcas grab gloves as they move, slipping them on and walking briskly towards resuscitation. Bursting through the double doors, the room is already filled and overcrowded with nurses and consultants. The paramedics have just wheeled the man in, laying flat on the stretcher up to the bed. Regulus and Dorcas don’t hesitate to push through the swarm to stand next to the bed to help transfer the man over.
Five years ago, Regulus would have panicked at the sight of bloody gauze wrapped to a mans head and neck braces holding his neck straight. Now, Regulus has seen enough and learnt enough to know he has enough expertise and training that just the sight of blood and neck braces is no where near enough to make his heart race.
Grabbing fistfuls of the sheet automatically, the paramedic on the head counts down from three. They lift and carefully, but also quickly, move the man over onto the hospital bed.
Regulus grabs the ECG leads as Dorcas grabs the blood pressure cuff, ready to start their own set of observations.
"Ready for handover?" The paramedic asks.
Regulus nods. "Go for it."
"This is Mark Donald, 45 years old male. Tripped on the top stair of his home this morning and fell approximately 12 stairs to the ground floor where he landed on wooden flooring. Wife was home, didn’t see the fall but heard it and phone the ambulance immediately. Mark was conscious during and after the fall. Lost consciousness about five minutes out from hospital. GCS was 15 when we arrived, reduced to GCS 3 by the time of arrival at hospital. Physical assessment and presumed diagnosis on scene suggests towards C5, C6, and C7 damage. Large laceration to cranium of the skull, approximately nine centimetres long and estimated five centimetres deep. Mark could not identify any response to pain or pressure stimuli to lower extremities but responded to pressure on the arms, shoulders and chest. No previous medical history. Didn’t experience any cardiac episode before the fall."
"Observations?"
"Heart rate 120, BP 140 over 110, temperature 36.7 and sats 98. Strong radial and carotid pulse."
"Good. Pain management?"
"IV paracetamol 500 and 10 milligrams of morphine given over static intervals."
"And the wife?"
"She’s waiting outside."
Regulus nods, jotting down the new observations flashing up on the screen. "Good. Keep her there please until we have him stable and ready to move."
He signs the handover form for the paramedic and turns back to Mark. He checks the carotid pulse again; its still has a steady rhythm but now considerably weak.
"Blood pressure is now 85 over 50," Regulus reads when it flashes on the monitor. "Can someone get some IV fluids ready and can we get him on a ventilator, please."
He rounds the bed, coming to the mans head. Pealing away the bandages, Regulus looks at the wound. It’s nasty and deep, going to need stitches but it’s not the restoration of the outside of the wound that is concerning Regulus, it’s the damage the fall has done underneath. The wound has clotted, as long as they keep it sterile and clean it can wait until they’ve done further investigating.
Regulus peels back the mans eyelids and checks his pupils with the torch. They roll back quickly, but they roll back towards the right, which Regulus knows can be a sign of a brain bleed.
"Secondary survey done," Dorcas says. "Superficial wounds and bruises but nothing else seems to be broken. Have you examined his head?"
"Wound will need stitches but has clotted for now," Regulus replies. "There are no physical abnormalities I can feel but his pupils are different sizes and rolling towards the right. Are obs stable?"
"Yeah," Dorcas nods. "Heart rate has come down, blood pressure is still low. Do you want to give fluids?"
"I want to confirm if he has a bleed before we do," Regulus replies. He turns to the nurse, "Can you book Mr Donald in for an X-ray and a CT scan please. We need to assess as soon as possible if he has an intracranial hepatoma and cervical fracture before we move any further. Until then, keep him stable and I want observations redone every 10 minutes."
A sea of nods is his response and once satisfied, he accepts the file from the senior nurse to read over the details again.
It’s the rule of accident and emergency department that if someone with a head injury comes in with a GCS of less than 13 they need to be in some form of a X-ray or CT scan within an hour. Regulus doesn’t want to progress on with pumping the man with fluids to restore his blood pressure until the CT scan shows them if the man is actually bleeding in his brain, as fluids could risk it just getting worse due to thinning the blood.
They get Mark bumped up the list to get into the X-ray scanner sooner. The results show that the paramedics hit the prognosis right on the nail: fractures in the C5, C6 and C7 vertebrae. There is no visible damage to the skull, so at least skull fractures is not on their list of difficulties to deal with. While Regulus is in the CT scanner office, he pages for Doctor Slughorn, the chief neurosurgeon and Regulus’ surgery mentor.
"What have we got?" Slughorn asks as he walks in.
Regulus likes Slughorn. He’s a strange man, slightly quirky, and looks like he’s strolled straight out of a 80’s hippy van. He walks around with an extremely strong smell of incense wafting off him, but he likes Regulus and lets him assist on surgeries when he’s on shift.
Regulus looks over his shoulder. "Mark Donald. 45. Fall down wooden stairs at home. X-rays already told us he’s fractures C5, 6 and 7. No other breakages or injuries, but he has a seven by two centimetre gash on the frontal of his head."
"Skull fracture?" Slughorn asks as he comes to stand behind Regulus and eye the screens where the scans will show up any minute.
Regulus shakes his head. "No, Doc."
"Lucky man."
"Wouldn’t call having a broken neck makes him a lucky man."
"Better than a broken neck and a damaged skull," Slughorn smiles. "Treatment so far?"
"Paramedics gave him paracetamol and morphine while he had GCS 15 but by the time he got to emergency he was GCS 3 and hasn’t come up yet."
"Intracranial hepatoma?"
Regulus nods. "Just double checking now."
The CT scans come through and Regulus leans back in his chair.
"Definitely a intracranial haemorrhage," Slughorn nods. He looks down at Regulus, "Thoughts?"
"It’s all localised around the temporal lobe," Regulus observes. "As he has no skull fractures but a severe trauma to his c-spine, would a surgical drain be a better option to start than a craniotomy?"
Slughorn smiles. "You read my mind, Doctor Black. Very good. I suggest we get on with it though, as Mr Donald does not need more time for his brain tissue to continue to bleed inside his skull. I’ll meet you in the OR. You can be my assistant for this one."
The procedure is simple and easy. Regulus enjoys being Slughorn’s assistant, as he hasn’t been involved in an incision and drainage surgery before.
After, they get Mark Donald comfortable in a private room to reduce any risks of infections from being on the ward with other patients. Regulus is checking the fluid accumulating in the container when Dorcas brings Mrs Donald in.
"This is Doctor Black, Mark’s doctor for today," Dorcas introduces. "He’ll update you on Mark’s progress and give you a chance to ask any questions."
She leaves, and Mrs Donald stands by the door. She’s staring at her husband, face stricken and scared. She looks hesitant to come towards the bed, clutching her handbag to her chest. Regulus gives her a moment to take in all the wires and the tube sticking out of her husbands head.
When she looks at him, he smiles gently.
"I know it looks scary," he says. "I’m not sure what Doctor Meadows has told you, but your husband suffered a severe trauma to his skull and neck. X-rays showed fractures to his neck that we are going to need to monitor and when he wakes up, we will need to run a series of tests to assess his mobility and if any actions need to be taken further. The drain in his skull is currently draining the bleeding caused by his head injury during the fall. If all goes well, the tube and drain will be taken out in a few days and the bleed in his brain should be sorted."
"And if it isn’t?"
"Then we will reassess and potentially your husband will need further surgeries. We’ve started with the drain because it’s the least risky procedure and your husbands body has been through a lot in the last few hours. We didn’t want to put him through a whole surgery if we didn’t need to."
Mrs Donald nods, eyes drifting back to her husband. She still hasn’t moved from the doorway.
"You," Regulus pauses, his tone uncharacteristically soft, saved for when he's talking to patients that need the gentle reassurance. "You can come closer. He isn’t in any pain, he’s under anaesthesia at the moment to keep the brain as calm as possible while he’s undergoing the drain."
"He’s not in any pain?" She asks, voice small.
Regulus shakes his head. "We’re keeping him well medicated. Please, sit with him. You can hold his hand, just don’t move his head or neck of course. He needs to stay as still as possible until we can determine the damage from the fractures in his neck when he’s conscious."
Mrs Donald finally steps towards the bed. She looks very sad, mouth drawn down.
She looks back at Regulus.
"Thank you," she says, flashing him a wobbly smile. "For everything you’ve done for him."
Regulus returns a smile.
"He’s not out of the woods yet, and he has a long road to recovery. However, he’s made it this far, so I have plenty of faith in him."
Mrs Donald drops down in the chair, taking Mark’s hand. Tears are in her eyes, and she bites her lower lip.
"I’ll leave you with him," Regulus says as he heads to the door. "We’ll be coming in regularly to check the drain, so don’t be alarmed that we’re disturbing you often."
"Thank you," she says again.
Regulus nods and leaves. Dorcas is by the reception desk with Euphemia, and she grins when he walks over.
"Hello, Mr Junior Surgeon. Neurology’s little star. Slughorn’s favourite student," Dorcas grins. "Proud of yourself, are we?"
"Please, the stuff we did today we can do in our sleep," Regulus scoffs, dropping down in the chair beside Euphemia. "The only thing I did that you didn't was watch Slughorn take a scalpel to his skull."
"You two did good today," Euphemia says, standing and picking up a file. "Consultant in emergency said they had no work to do for Mr Donald because the two of you did it all for them."
"Child’s play, right, Black?" Dorcas laughs. "Dream team."
Regulus winks. "Dream team."
Regulus clicks the computer on as Euphemia walks off to go into room 404. He needs to update Mark Donald's charts to add their most recent observations they took after his drainage surgery.
"Oh, by the way," Dorcas leans over the desk. "It’s Marlene’s birthday next week and we’re all going out on Saturday night to get absolutely and appropriately drunk. You in?"
"I’m working I believe," Regulus replies, absentmindedly typing away. "Sorry, Cas."
"Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Marlene. She keeps asking me if you’re coming, and now you’ve singlehandedly ruined her birthday by not coming. You know you’re the funnest person to go out with!"
Regulus frowns, side-eyeing her. "How am I the funnest?"
"Because you know how to drink and despite being nothing of a lightweight, you are so funny when you peak your limit," Dorcas cackles like the witch she's turning out to be. "Which isn’t often, but when it happens, you turn into an absolute whore of a dancer and your French accent comes back."
"Wow, thank you so much," Regulus deadpans. He turns back to the computer. "Definitely not going to come now."
"It’s a compliment!" Dorcas laughs.
Regulus looks at her pointedly. "Bold of you to call me a whore and say it’s a compliment."
"Oh please," she rolls her eyes. "You have literally pulled every guy you set eyes on."
"It’s a charm you’ll never understand."
"No, I won’t, because I don’t like cock."
"I’ll send some flowers to Marlene to apologise if you stop calling me a whore and saying 'cock'."
"Fine. She likes roses."
"She has no taste. I’ll send her lilies."
"So thoughtful," Dorcas muses. Her pager goes off and she groans, "Why me?"
"No rest for the wicked."
"Doesn’t make sense why you’re still sitting down then," Dorcas grumbles before she pushes off the desk top and stomps away.
"Bye, Meadows!"
He smirks at the middle finger thrown his way and turns back to the computer.
"Hi."
Regulus looks up. A boy is standing in front of him. Well, not a boy. A man, really. A very cute man. Attractive, even. With dark skin and rich curly hair and a smile that would make Regulus’ knees weak if he wasn’t being interrupted at work.
This guy isn’t in scrubs, but instead a pair of jeans and a simple burgundy red t-shirt, which means he’s probably a relative of a patient about to bombard him with questions. In fact, no, he looks too happy to be visiting someone sick enough to be on neurology ward - which means he’s probably lost.
Regulus blinks. "Hello?"
"You’re cute," the guy says, "How long have you worked here?"
"Long enough to be immune to flattery," Regulus replies dryly. "What do you want and who are you here to see?"
The guy laughs, but Regulus wasn’t trying to be funny.
"My mum. She works here," the guy is still smiling. "Effie Potter."
"Ah," Regulus nods. It clicks now: he remembers the guy from last week, who came in to bring Euphemia coffee. Discarding with a sense of disinterest, Regulus turns back at the computer. "She’s in 404. She should be out in a minute."
"Perfect," he grins. "What’s your name?"
Regulus looks up, blinking tiredly. This guy is starting to grate his nerves.
"Doctor Black."
"I meant your first name," the guy chuckles. "My name is James."
Regulus kisses his teeth in exasperation. "That’s great."
"You’re not very chatty, are you?"
Regulus sighs heavily, and shamelessly exaggeratedly. "What gave you that idea?"
"So, are you’re a doctor?" James asks, and when Regulus nods, he adds, "Why do you wear green scrubs?"
"Because they match my eyes."
James blinks. "Woah, really? You get to choose the colour?"
"No, you idiot," Regulus huffs. "It’s because I’m a junior surgeon."
"Woah. That’s cool!" James beams. "You’re very young to be training to be a surgeon though."
"You don’t know how old I am."
"Okay, fine, you look very young to be a surgeon in training."
Regulus rolls his eyes.
"That was a compliment!" James yelps.
"I don’t care," Regulus drawls. "Leave me alone. Wait your mother over there."
"Are you this rude to your patients and visitors?"
"Only the annoying ones."
James laughs at that. Bloody moron. Regulus refuses to acknowledge the strange tingle in his spine at the sound.
"James!" Euphemia’s voice calls out, and Regulus could sigh with delight. Finally, took her bloody time. "What are you doing here, love? I thought you and Peter were going out?"
"We are, but I wanted to bring you some food first," James replies as he holds up a brown paper bag. Regulus didn’t even notice that had been in his hands the whole time.
"You didn’t have to do that," Euphemia smiles, coming to stand next to him. She places the file down on the reception desk and takes the bag.
"Well," James shrugs, still smiling lopsidedly, "you know, hospital food sucks."
"That it does," Euphemia laughs. She looks over at Regulus, and his face must be a beacon sign for annoyance because she smirks suddenly, "Have you been annoying Doctor Black while you’ve been waiting?"
"No!"
"Yes."
James grins at him before turning back Euphemia. "He’s lying, mum. We’ve just been talking."
Euphemia hums. "I see. Well, you can go for your break if you’d like."
Regulus nods in thanks and gets up to leave.
As he walks away, behind him James shouts out, "Lovely to meet you, uh. . ."
"Doctor Black," Regulus calls back as he heads for the elevator.
He pulls out his phone, texting Evan to ask if he’s going on break anytime soon.
Evan works as a paediatric nurse in the children’s part of the hospital, which is actually a different building but can be accessed through the general hospital. As soon as Regulus met Evan back at the beginning of their first year, he had an inkling Evan was going to be fantastic with children. He has the calming but playful aura about him that kids always love.
Plus, the man has more patience in his little finger than anyone else has in their whole body.
Evan (15:36) yeah man, in the cafeteria with lily now. want me to grab you something then meet you in the paeds mess?
Regulus (15:37) coffee please
Evan (15:38) of course your highness
Regulus makes his way to the ground floor then to the link between the two buildings.
He forces his mind to stop replying the memory of James laughing because it was not cute or attractive. Regulus likes to have sex, of course he does, he's human and more importantly, he's a 23 year old. What Regulus doesn't like is relationships. He barely managed to accept friendships since coming back to London, because any kind of tie or dependency on people scares him more than his mother herself. People leave, it's in their nature and Regulus has had enough of that in his life time. His favourite cousin, his brother, his grandfather, he doesn't think he can handle anyone else. Everyone that claims to love him has either hurt him or left. That's why he's kept his immediate friendship group small. Why he is so cold and callous, so people aren't tempted to get close to him and give him the false sense of security just to leave him in the mud.
So, Regulus only does sex, and he doesn't think Euphemia, who is his boss, will appreciate him using her son as a one-night stand. And as far as first impressions go, James Potter does not look like a one-night stand kind of guy.
He is fit though, Regulus is proud enough to admit that.
But he is not going to think about it. After all, he seems like the type who is far too happy for Regulus to stand to be around for long. Pandora is the only freakishly happy and bubbly person he can stand.
Striding through the paediatric hospital, Regulus makes his way to the mess hall where him, Barty and Evan have spent many evenings and days huddled together on our breaks either bitching about staff when they were students or bitching about staff as now they're qualified doctors. It's therapeutic really, and if Regulus didn't get those opportunities to rip the people he works with and the patients that test his will to live to shreds behind their backs, then realistically he'd end up saying to their face - which is never ideal. Regulus only acts like an asshole to patients when he knows he's in the right, that way the superiors of the ward will just give him a stern look for being rude, not for being rude and wrong.
"Hey, there's the prettiest doctor in the whole of London!" Evan cheers as he walks in. He's got an half eaten sandwich in his hand, and various snacks and treats bought from the hospital cafe on the table in front of him.
Lily is sat beside him, on her phone and classily sipping on an open cup of tea. She smiles and nods at Regulus in greeting as he walks in.
Regulus collapses down onto the chair with a heaved sigh. "Don't let Barty hear that, you might hurt his feelings."
Evan barks a laugh. "Barty already knows. It's public knowledge that you're the doctor that charms everyone with your stand-off broodiness but eye-catching assets."
"Eye-catching assets?" Regulus deadpans.
"You're gorgeous, Black, and you know it," Evan states, as if it's a global known fact. "You more than know it, in fact. Even Lily agrees, and she likes women."
"Don't drag me into your flirting," Lily snaps, not looking up from her phone. Regulus doesn't doubt she's reading an E-book of some sort. It's something he shares with only Pandora and Lily, is the love for books and learning. Everyone else in Regulus' life would probably burn a book before they even contemplated reading it.
Evan tuts at her. "It's not flirting if it's platonic."
Lily side eyes him, unimpressed. She has a fantastic resting bitch face.
"It's still flirting."
Evan looks at her smugly, "What do you know about flirting?"
"Lots, actually," Lily replies. "When was the last time you got laid, Rosier?"
Evans smirk drops off his face very fast.
"I'm not answering that," he says. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"About seven hours ago," Lily replies without a missed beat. "Just before I left for work this morning."
"Vance?" Regulus asks.
Lily nods. "Of course."
"You guys together yet?"
"Casual sex," Lily shrugs.
"You disgust me," Evan groans, and Regulus smirks because he knows exactly what that translates from Evan as - 'you're getting more sex than me and I'm going to be mean about it'.
Lily sips her drink delicately. "Jealous is an ugly emotion."
"Evan knows plenty about being ugly."
"Fuck off, Black."
Lily chuckles smugly and Regulus ducks his head to hide his smirk.
Lily Evans is a diamond among stones. He met her through Evan, as she's also a paediatric nurse with Evan but she qualified the year before the three of them did. Regulus has also met Lily through Dorcas, though the two girls didn't study together because Lily attended university in Bournemouth, but she somehow knows of Marlene, Dorcas' girl friend, and all of a sudden Regulus found himself drinking porn-star martinis with Lily a year ago on a small hospital night out and have been sort of friends ever since.
They're not close enough for Regulus to probably ever reach out to Lily on their own, but they do gravitate towards one another when they're drunk. Lily also gets along great with Pandora, which he's not surprised about because they're both the physical embodiment of kind and gentle till you cross them. Lily is just like Pandora in that sense - scary as hell when she's angry.
"Did you get my coffee?" Regulus asks.
"I did," Evan nods to the cup in his hand, "but I might not give it to you now as you've been so mean."
Regulus raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Evan signs dramatically and hands over the cup.
"I grabbed you also sandwich," Evan adds, holding out a takeaway sandwich, "because I have no faith in you actually consuming anything today other than coffee unless someone makes you."
"Evan, I'm 23," Regulus deadpans. "I'm an adult."
"No, you're 23, a certified genius that, despite all his brains, forgets that food is needed to survive," Evan smiles kindly. "So shut up, say thank you, and eat your stupid sandwich."
Regulus only eats half the sandwich. James was right though, not that Regulus didn't already know, but hospital food really does suck.
Regulus doesn't really know how he fell into living in Kensington.
When they all finished studying and graduated, him, Barty and Evan were living in a student house in Greenwich. Barty and Evan's parents both paid for their first apartments as graduation presents and Regulus slept on Barty’s sofa for five months into working at the hospital so he could save enough money to put a deposit down on a flat. He didn't have his parents overflowing bank account to rely on anymore, so he had to save as much of his wages like a hoarder the first few months to make enough to impress the housing estate that he could hold down his rent payments.
His apartment is a decent size, not as small as a hole in the wall but not as large as a studio. It's considerably open plan, with the kitchen and living room one big space but split with the bar keeping the kitchen it's own area. His bedroom is comfortably big enough to fit a double bed in, his wardrobe and a dressing table. The spare room he uses for studying, a mixture between a personal library and office. He has so many books they've overfilled into the living room, with stacks of books on the floor in mini mountains for easy grabbing when he finishes a book on the sofa and is too lazy to go into his office to get another one.
Regulus knew when he was looking for places to live a year ago he didn't want to be on the ground floor, simply because he didn't fancy being woken up consistently by people coming in and out of the building entrance during the day when he was sleeping for night shifts. When he managed to find a three-storey house converted into three flats, he knew he’d found gold. His neighbour immediately downstairs is an elderly lady who lives alone and is so quiet that Regulus has had to check on her a few times she’s even still alive. She also travels to her children’s homes a lot, so very often Regulus doesn’t even have to worry about being too nosy to bother her. The couple on the ground floor are also deaf, which comes in handy when Regulus gets back from shifts late or ends up staying awake all night for nightshifts and knows noise is never going to bother them.
The view from being on the top floor is unmatched, in Regulus’ opinion, but it’s nights like tonight when he’s crawling his way up three flights of stairs to get to his floor that he regrets slightly not finding somewhere on street level.
Unlocking the front door, he walks on tired legs into a dark apartment. It's gone 10, but he's mostly late because he had to pick up some food on the way home to make sure he doesn't allow himself to starve to death after tomorrows night shift. He hates eight o'clock shifts, but they're handy when going onto night shifts because he gets back late enough that he doesn't have to spend hours staying awake to make sure he's able to sleep during the day.
He takes a long hot shower, soaking the tension out of his muscles. Sylvester is asleep on his bed when he gets out, stretched out like a tiny fluffy black blanket over his bedsheets. The cat eyes him as he drapes his towel over the rack. Regulus sighs, putting him some food down before shoving his own left over pasta from last night in the microwave. When it dings finished, he takes it to the lounge and collapses on the sofa.
As he's switching from days to nights, he needs to stay up tonight to make sure he sleeps enough of tomorrow to survive a whole night awake. Sometimes, if the ward is quiet enough nurses and doctors can take extended breaks and find somewhere quiet to sleep, but Regulus is never successful at that. Very often he runs the night shifts, so taking the top dog off the floor for a two hour kip is often detrimental and ends with him being woken up and having to perform high intense assessments half asleep.
He mindlessly puts on some reruns of British Bake Off, stretched out across the sofa as he slowly munches through the pasta. As soon as he's done and rests the bowl on the coffee table, then a weight jumps onto his chest. He curls his arm around Sylvester automatically as the cat curls onto him.
"You alright, buddy?" Regulus asks.
The cat doesn't answer, of course, but he does look at Regulus in response. Sylvester yawns, whole body shuddering as he lays his head down and uses Regulus as a human pillow.
"Yeah, same here," Regulus murmurs, unconsciously running his hand down the cats spine through his dark fur. He lets out a deflating sigh, "Same here."
Regulus turns off around around four in the morning and wakes up at midday. A solid seven hours despite the wake up time is enough to carry him through the night.
The shift has been calm so far - or as far as calm can go on the neurology ward in the centre of London. Neither Barty, Evan or Pandora are on shift, but Dorcas and Mary are on with him. He spends his break at 2AM lounging with them in the neuro mess room eating Cookie Crisp out of the box because none of them can be bothered to do anything about Dorcas forgetting to bring the milk to eat the cereal with. The girls get into a heated debate about irrational fears when Dorcas reveals her inability to touch cling-film without wanting to throw up. Regulus listens, amused as he sips on his coffee and just enjoys the time that bleeper on his scrubs is, for once, not beeping at him.
Chaos resumes around 4AM down in emergency when a herd of drunken morons come in, all with busted heads and so shit-faced on alcohol that they start arguing with staff trying to stitch up their split foreheads. Regulus is called down and begrudgingly stitches a 24 year olds cheek back together while he slurs about his tragic love life that lead him to starting a bar fight. Regulus pointedly ignores him until when he’s done, he tells the guy his girlfriend dumping him did not constitute him to throwing the first punch to a bunch of random blokes - especially when the outcome lands him in A&E with 14 stitches in his face. The guy does not like his statement in the slightest, but Regulus doesn’t stay around long enough to hear his complaint.
Back up in neurology, Slughorn finds him when the older man starts his shift at seven o’clock and discusses the patient that came in at the start of the night has been scheduled for an emergency anterior cervical discectomy and fusion, which is a juicy major surgery involving removing a slipped disk in the neck. Regulus will forever be proud of how he manages to mask his glowing excitement when Slughorn asks him to be his assistant in the operation. Regulus doesn’t bat an eyelid about the fact he’s meant to be finishing his shift in less than an hour, because this is the best reason for him to run-over instead of looking after idiotic drunk people down in emergency like he’s sure Dorcas is going to end up suffering.
Managing to keep himself to sound eager but calm, inside Regulus is vibrating with anticipation. He hasn’t had a neck surgery yet, and while brain surgery is the ultimate skill when it comes to neurosurgery, the neck and spine are more than interesting too.
Regulus is honoured with the usual routine of briefing the patient with the correct information about the surgery, making them away of the potential consequences and steps of recovery to come. He walks them through the process of what will happen while they’re under the knife and double checking medications, allergies and past medical history to make sure nothing has been missed or forgotten before they start. The patient, Mrs Wheeler, is calm and accepting considering they’re going in for major neck surgery at eight AM on a Monday morning.
Mary is the ward anaesthetist , but has already left by the time they wheel Mrs Wheeler in, so Regulus obliges with doing the cannulating and anaesthetic procedure to get them started while the next anaesthetic on shift is still having hand over. Slughorn doesn’t watch Regulus over this, as it’s something he has become so accustomed to do that Regulus is sure he could do it in his sleep.
The surgery, for Regulus especially, is incredible. He doesn’t get involved specifically, but it’s an unbeatable learning curve that even when he leaves his shift at 12 o’clock - four hours after he was meant to leave - his mind is so wired that he spends another 40 minutes just itting in his car in the parking lot reading up about the surgery and noting details about it to research later.
When he doesn’t make it back to his flat until gone one in the afternoon, Regulus doesn’t bother with sleeping. He needs to switch back to a normal bedtime routine, so he figures going to sleep so late in the day would just ruin what could be. Instead, he quickly showers and finishes reading The Tobacconist before he hides himself away in the small office to research up on the ACDF surgery he helped Slughorn with.
His phone buzzes when he’s on the last two pages. He takes his hand away from where its mindlessly twirling Sylvester’s tail between his fingers. It’s the group chat that was created when they were students and has unsurprisingly survived past graduation.
Pandora (15:25) attention whores! fajita night tonight, 7 o’clock sharp and do not be late!
Barty (15:25) sounds like a plan pan
Evan (15:26) stop badly rhyming bartemius
Barty (15:26) bite me rosier
Regulus (15:27) does this fajita night involve you having the ingredients or are we all required to get things on the way?
Pandora (15:27) i have peppers
Regulus (15:27) just peppers?
Pandora (15:28) yes but they’re all different colours so it will look pretty :)
Regulus (15:28) not surprised
Barty (15:29) i already have chicken
Evan (15:30) i can grab a kit on the way over
Regulus (15:30) i’ll bring the wine
Pandora (15:30) i’ll make up the spare room for you darling
Regulus (15:30) thank you
Barty (15:30) go regulus bringing the essentials
Regulus (15:31) no wine for you
Barty (15:31) reggie :(
A private message from Barty comes through.
Barty (15:33) how much did you overrun last night?
Regulus (15:33) got home at 1
Barty (15:34) yikes. you slept?
Regulus (15:35) stupid question
Barty (15:35) you good to drive?
Regulus (15:36) always
Barty (15:37) perfect! have a nap now and i’ll be at yours for 630 :)
Regulus (15:38) counting down the minutes already
Barty (15:39) charmer
Regulus does have a nap, much to his discretion. The plan to stay awake works when he isn't required to go out during the evening and socialise.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up he’s got a crick in his neck from where it had slumped over the curve of the sofa arm. It’s just gone six, so he knows Barty will be there any minute as the older guy has a stellar habit of turning up early whenever he comes to Regulus apartment so he can raid his fridge and take advantage of his collection of coffee pods.
There’s a knock on the door at 6:15.
"It’s open!" Regulus shouts from the kitchen.
The door swings open and Barty strolls in, a cocky smile already on his face. He’s dressed in one of his smart button downs and a pair of black skinny jeans and his famous leather jacket that Regulus loathes for personal reasons.
"Hello, my darling," Barty greets. "Only you could look this beautiful when you clearly just woke up from a nap that was not nearly as long as it should have been."
Regulus huffs, unimpressed. "I'm fine."
"You should get that tattooed on your forehead considering it’s your favourite lie."
"I’m not lying," Regulus replies. "Coffee?"
Barty scoffs, "Sure, and yes please. Why did you finish so late?"
"Got to assist an ACDF," Regulus replies as he slides over the mug he’s already made.
Barty’s eyes widen comically. "No way! Dude, that’s—"
"Don’t call me dude."
"—fucking awesome!" Barty exclaims, face beaming. "Check you out, y’little surgeon prodigy."
Regulus fails to hide his smile.
"Surgical brain drain and a ACFD in four days. Almost makes it sound like it was worth going in," Barty wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a greedy sip of coffee.
"And what did you do on your days off?" Regulus asks. "Didn’t pester the cute girl in the coffee shop down from your apartment for two days straight I hope."
Barty rolls his eyes. "I didn’t but that wouldn’t matter because I don’t pester her anyways. She loves it when I go in."
"She loathes it more like," Regulus remarks. "The girl doesn’t look older than 16, Barty. It’s gross."
"She’s not sixteen," Barty rolls his eyes. "And it’s harmless flirting to get cheap coffee, sue me."
"And if she came on to you, you wouldn’t turn her down?"
"Well, that’s—"
"My point exactly."
"Fuck off. Get dressed, we need to go."
Regulus frowns. "It’s not even six-thirty?"
"Yes," Barty smiles, "and it will take you about an hour to decide what you want to wear, so better start now."
"Coming from the person dressed like a motorbiker wanna-be."
"You are always so mean about the jacket," Barty pouts, actually pouts.
Regulus rolls his eyes. "Because I hate it."
"I hate your attitude."
"You’re the one in my apartment."
"Because hating you brings me joy in life."
"You’re incredibly insufferable."
Regulus ends up dressing casual smart, in a simple black long sleeve turtle neck and black skinny’s and the ankles of the jeans tucked into a pair of black lace up boots, because Pandora’s text were clear code for this is their famous fajita night and everyone must make an effort as they always do. They don’t leave at six thirty, but they still make it for seven o’clock because as Barty likes to say, Regulus likes to drive his car like he stole it.
Regulus does not agree with that, but he also doesn’t enjoy driving behind slow people when he’s in danger of being met with Pandora’s wrath over them being late for fajita night.
Regulus ends up cooking, which he should have expected as Pandora is the group baker. Ever since they learnt towards the end of first year that when he puts the time into actually cooking, Regulus is a very good chef. Since then, he became the groups resident chef.
By the end of the night, they’re all filled with food and drunk on wine. Evan and Barty are giggling like school girls about the hot nurse in emergency calling Severus Snape - a grumpy consultant in emergency that graduated a year before them - an 'incompetent greasy slop' because he couldn’t cannulate a dehydrated 80 year old. Evan and Barty continue to bring it up, despite neither of them also being able to cannulate the pensioner,
Regulus watches them from the other couch where him and Pandora are slumped into each other, half-empty wine glasses in hand.
"They bring this up at least once a month," Regulus murmurs, voice hushed.
Pandora smirks, sipping her wine. "I can’t believe they’re qualified to have responsibilities for vulnerable people."
"It’s a wonder the hospital is still standing sometimes."
"They’re not going to be able to get the trains home tonight, are they?"
Regulus shakes his head. "Not a chance. You want to send them out to the public like that?"
"Absolutely not," Pandora chuckles. "Spare room?"
"Yeah. I’m not sharing a bed with either of them in this state."
"Not everyone can handle red wine like you, Black."
"Not everyone can handle anything like me."
Pandora scoffs, draining the last of her cup at the same time as Regulus. She stands up suddenly, "Right. Come on, you drunken egg rolls. Bed time."
"We can stay?" Barty gasps. His cheeks are flushed and glowing, smile so large it’s practically splitting his face.
"Spare room. Sort the blankets out yourselves and do not wake me up in the morning unless it’s with a vegan full English."
Evan mock salutes as Barty drags him up. They immediately go stumbling and snickering into the spare room, and Pandora is shaking her head fondly as she gathers the plates off the dining table.
Regulus is collecting the bottles of wine from the lounge when Pandora says, "How much do you want to bet they’re going to shag tonight?"
Regulus frowns. "Nothing. They won’t shag."
"Sure about that?"
"They may be drunk but they’re also both straight, and neither of them are the type to sleep with blokes just because they’re drunk and horny."
"Straight," Pandora echoes as she places the plates in the dishwasher. "Sure."
Regulus pauses from where he’s scrapping the leftovers in the bin. He looks up at her, "What?"
"Nothing."
"Pandora."
"I’m just saying that the way Evan looks at Barty is not the same look you give a friend."
Regulus blinks, his brain short-circuited. "Pardon?"
Pandora chuckles, taking the plate out of his hands. "Reg, please, I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You don’t recognise love-eyes, just fuck-me-eyes.
Regulus sputters, which only causes Pandora to laugh more.
"Come on, let’s go to bed."
"Wait—"
"I think you’ve had too much wine to comprehend what I’m trying to get at," Pandora giggles.
"You think Evan likes Barty?" Regulus murmurs, struck.
Pandora looks at him for a long moment. "Isn’t it obvious?"
"No!" Regulus throws his hands up. "It’s not— how do you— I don’t—"
"Regulus, seriously, you don’t see it?" She looks at him softly.
"I see they're both always flirting with girls and sleeping with girls and talking about girls," Regulus replies. "Evan's never. . . he’s never said anything about. . ."
"Why would he?" Pandora shrugs. "Why would he say anything when Barty doesn’t look at him the same?"
Regulus gets that, at least. Well no, he doesn’t really get it, because Regulus has never felt that way about someone, let alone someone who doesn’t like you back.
"Don’t think about it too hard," Pandora squeezes his shoulder. "Pretend I didn’t say anything."
Regulus looks at her, defeated. "I just. . ."
"You’re so hopeless when it comes to love."
"I am not!" Regulus blanches.
She chuckles, "Oh, yes you are. Come on now, my hopeless romantic, bed time."
"Little spoon or big spoon?"
"I’ll be big spoon tonight, you look like you need a cuddle."
"I don’t—"
"Regulus."
He huffs.
"Fine."
— tbc.