Day 54: Staff-Only Outdoor Patio/Eating Area

[oncological.livejournal.com]

His patient hadn't shown up.

Whether that was because the poor guy had been gassed or because he'd just decided that he didn't want to deal with it and had ended up sedated as a result was unclear. The nurses were too busy with their own tasks to explain, and so Wilson had been left to stew in his office for the entire shift. He'd considered writing a letter to Landel, but at this point it was starting to seem like the Head Doctor wasn't really the head of things after all.

Wilson would have thought it would be required that any entering doctor was told about the government and military being involved in this operation, but apparently not! And he was just getting fed up with this entire place.

By the time lunch rolled around, Wilson was eager to get out of his office. He needed to talk to someone about this, and even if it was only his fellow doctors who he'd more or less kept a professional distance from before now, that was about to change.

He needed to know if he was the only one who thought this was totally ridiculous.

Unfortunately, when he took the trip upstairs and out onto the patio, he found it empty except for a nurse who was setting things up. Sighing, he moved over to her and asked if any of the doctors would be coming by -- but naturally, she didn't know.

Wilson dragged a hand down his face and then sat at one of the tables. It was cold out, but so long as it wasn't raining, he could handle some chilly weather. It occurred to him that he should probably get some food, but he was too wound up at the moment to bother.

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[ghostbusting]

Venkman had been too caught up in actually making progress with a patient for once to test out the PKE Meter. On any other day, this kind of progress would've made him feel self-satisfied, and he would've treated himself to a nice big snack for desert after lunch. As it was, though, the continued presence of the military and the looming possibility of conspiracy only left him feeling more ambivalent about what he was doing. So what if he could actually pin down some helpful points with a patient? Did it really matter so much when they were in the middle of Operation Tailwind here?

Though, he was still having that desert, goddamnit. If anything he deserved it more on a day like today.

He wasn't normally one to hang around with the other doctors on his lunch. More often than not, he ended up chatting up the nurses while walking and stretching his legs, nodding in the direction of his colleagues, and then heading back to eat lunch in the relative comfort of his office. It wasn't any fault of the doctors themselves (though, a couple of them had weirded Venkman out, including the hippie-haired Disraeli and the underaged Yumeno), It was just the fact that he had colleagues other than Ray or Egon that didn't sit well with him. Today, though, he had a feeling that socializing would do him more good than it usually did. The others had to have something to say about all that had gone on today, as well as all the other shit that they had to put up with on a regular basis.

Up on the patio, there was only one other staff member already there. Wilson, wasn't it? He hadn't really paid much attention to names after initial introductions. He hadn't seemed like a bad guy just from a first impression, though.

Venkman made his way over with his lunch (home-packed; with all his recent suspicions, the idea of eating Institute-provided food left him with a funny feeling in his gut). He didn't sit right next to Wilson, but did take a nearby seat, across and one chair down. He let silence hang between them for a few moments as he opened up a pastrami sandwich and started in on it. After a few bites, he spoke up: "Some weather we're having, huh?" From his tone of voice and a cock of his head back toward the building, it was clear that Venkman wasn't talking about meteorological phenomena.

[oncological.livejournal.com]

It felt pretty empty out on the patio today, but maybe that's how it always was. Wilson didn't usually stick around out here, so there was a chance that all of the other doctors were the same way. Funny, the thought that a bunch of so-called psychiatrists weren't even willing to talk to each other. Still, he couldn't blame people for wanting to lay low after this morning's insanity, and so Wilson had assumed he'd have to sit there and eat on his own after all.

However, a minute or so later one of the other doctors did show up; the man's name was Venkman, but Wilson had only exchanged the regular pleasantries with him before. They'd never had a substantial conversation, so he couldn't have much of an impression.

It seemed like that was about to change, though, because the guy sat down and started eating. (That pastrami sandwich looked pretty damn delicious, and suddenly Wilson felt his appetite returning.)

For a moment, they were caught in that awkward silence where they were both deciding on whether or not they wanted to talk, but Venkman broke through that quickly enough. The weather, right. It's what they would have been expected to talk about for a first conversation, but this wasn't about that at all.

The nurse who was hanging around didn't seem too concerned with what they were talking about, so Wilson didn't have to worry about lowering his voice. "I can't believe it," he said with a shake of his head. "The way this place is run has always bothered me, but this is just ridiculous."

[ghostbusting]

"So you noticed that too, did you?" he answered in regards to the way Landel's was run. He hadn't been here long, but it had been long enough to become highly questioning of Landel's methods and standards. "Yeah, this place was never the top hospital on the block but this—" Venkman shrugged and lifted his hands with a slight shake of his head. "I'm half-expecting the men in black to come in covering up UFO remains in the basement next. It'd make about as much sense."

He paused after his next bite of food, a thought coming to mind. "Hey, how long've you been here anyway? Seems to me that, in addition to apparently having secret government contracts, Landel can't keep doctors on staff here to save his life." I wonder why.

[oncological.livejournal.com]

The joke about aliens was responded to with a brief smile. Wilson might have had more of a reaction if it wasn't for the fact that one of the only patients who'd really stuck with him for any amount of time actually believed he was an alien. Speaking of which, he hoped that Max had gotten out of the cafeteria before the gassing had happened; he couldn't imagine the man would have handled that well at all.

Either way, it seemed that Venkman felt the same way about this place -- and he'd noticed how often the doctors came in and out, at that. "I'm one of the only people who's actually been here for a while," he explained, "though Dr. Disraeli and Dr. Yumeno have stuck around for a decent amount of time." Compared to the others, anyway. Their numbers were slimming down, which made him wonder if Landel was slowly working toward getting rid of all of them.

"Not that I blame the others," he continued with a small scoff and a shake of his head. "I'd get out of this place if I could, but..." It was starting to feel like he was trapped, but he didn't know how to explain that without sounding a little bit insane in his own right.

[ghostbusting]

Truthfully, Venkman had only noticed the disappearing doctors phenomenon following the departure of all three of their female doctors, two of whom had been up his alley in the looks department (the other might have been had she not had the air of a creepy-ass snow queen hovering around her at all times; how did Landel pick out therapists again?). Regardless, it was interesting to meet someone who had actually been around for a while.

Which, as it turned out, just made him more curious, especially after that trailed-off statement. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward. "...but there's not much you can go back to right now?" he asked, wondering if Wilson's situation was similar to his own, maybe. It would make sense if Landel went after doctors who were down on their luck. It was a lot easier to keep them on staff in spite of everything questionable about the place. Pretty much the only reason Venkman hadn't walked out earlier in the week was the knowledge that he had no viable job options if he went back then. Psychic talk shows didn't count.

"Anyway, what do you figure the spooks are here for? I'd bet a lot of money it's not for an inspection, at least not the kind they're claimin'," Venkman asked, wondering if Wilson had gotten any clues that maybe he had missed.

[oncological.livejournal.com]

Of all the ways for the sentence to be ended, Wilson hadn't really banked on that one -- mainly because that wasn't the case for him at all. In fact, it was really the opposite. He paused and shook his head. "No, no, more like the other way around. I was happy with my job back home. Worked at a good teaching hospital in the oncology department, was on the board of directors... the whole thing." He splayed his hands out in front of him as he voiced the last phrase.

"But then I suddenly got this assignment here. Initially I came with a diagnostician friend of mine, but he's gone back and... any attempt I make to contact him or my boss is just..." He sighed and shook his head. "Radio silence." It was like they'd completely cut him off and just decided to leave him alone in this odd rural area, and... he had no idea what he'd even done to deserve such a thing.

Even though he considered himself a mature adult who could take care of himself, Wilson was still starting to feel unnerved by the whole thing. He hadn't even dared to try and contact his family, partly because he wasn't close to them and partly because he was worried the result would be the same.

Still, as for the current situation, it sounded like Venkman had a theory or two. Wilson paused, already feeling awkward that he'd gone into so much detail about his own problems. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

[ghostbusting]

Well, there went that theory, then. That was all right, though. Disproving a potential theory was about as useful as proving one. It still pointed one closer toward the truth of things. Even if the truth involved a sting of jealousy at words like "happy with my job," "good hospital," and "board of directors." At least if Wilson got sent home now, it sounded like he'd be set for life. Venkman, on the other hand, would have to keep scrambling to not lower himself to the level of children's birthday party entertainer, as some of his friends apparently had.

No time to spend on jealousy right now, though Venkman couldn't help but flash Wilson a subtle "Well good for you, then" smile before moving on. A couple other words out of Wilson's mouth had caught Venkman's attention for other reasons. "They treat a lot of cancer at this Institute?" he asked, tone aired with a dry desert sarcasm. "No, seriously, what kind of reason did they give for bringing an oncologist and a diagnostician on as therapists here? I'd understand if it were for the Med Wing or something, but—" Venkman shrugged "—I dunno, did you both have side degrees in Psychology or Psychiatry or something?" It wasn't infeasible. Venkman's own side degree was Psychology, second only to the infinitely eminent and respectable field of Parapsychology (aka: Boology). Even if Wilson was double-qualified, though, it still seemed odd that he would let himself be sent from a pretty position back at home to, well, here.

Then there was the matter of the radio silence. Now that Wilson mentioned it, it was something Venkman had noticed too, albeit to a lesser degree due to his tendency to not be a social butterfly. "I haven't gotten any calls back from a couple of old colleagues of mine either, actually. So you're not the only one there," he added there.

If it sounded like Venkman had a working theory or two, it was only because knowing for certain that something other than the norm was going on was more than being completely confused. "No idea yet. All I can say for now is that it all smells fishy. Like fishier than the Fulton Fish Market," he answered, alluding not just to the smell of fish but also to the criminal associations with that particular market. "The constantly shuffling schedules, the releases without doctor consultation, the high incidence of injury, the 'radio silence', and now these guys. I just, I dunno. I really don't like it."

[oncological.livejournal.com]

That smile had been a bit off, sort of like the man was humoring him or maybe quietly mocking him. Wilson didn't know what to make of it, but it was a smile he was used to being on the receiving end of thanks to House. Normally he would have inwardly sighed at it, but it'd been so long since he'd seen his friend that it was actually strangely comforting.

If anything, it was nice to talk to someone who was as sane as he was; someone who hadn't bought into the bizarre practices they had here but was stuck all the same, if for different reasons. Wilson wondered why it was that Venkman didn't have anything to go back to, but that clearly wasn't something to be asking now.

It was no surprise that his qualifications were being brought up, seeing how this was a question Wilson had asked himself pretty much every day. "No," he said with a shake of his head. "That's the really bizarre thing. I mean, I have some experience with dealing with patient psychology because cancer patients tend to be depressed, and Dr. House definitely had to deal with patients who had mental disorders from time to time, but it still makes no sense." He'd never felt comfortable counseling the patients here, but if he was the only person around to do it, then... how could he refuse?

While it was nice to hear that he wasn't the only one who was being ignored by everyone back home, it was also strange. Was it possible that Landel had scrambled their signals and the calls weren't even getting there at all? Even though he got the answering machines each time, maybe it was some sort of ruse. Wilson felt ridiculous to be making such paranoid assumptions, but he really had no choice.

As Venkman listed off everything that was wrong or off about this place, Wilson just found himself nodding along with him. He really should have talked to his fellow doctors sooner -- so even if the disaster this morning was regrettable, at least it had pushed him to make this step. "Yeah, but have you ever tried to get an appointment with Landel? It's ridiculous." He sighed and bowed his head, though that's when he remembered that... right, he was supposed to be eating. It felt wrong to leave in the middle of the conversation, though, so he'd at least give the other doctor a chance to respond.

[ghostbusting]

Venkman stroked the sides of his chin with his thumb and forefinger, considering what Wilson was telling him. Not even a related degree to make an excuse, huh? "So what exactly was the request you got to come here like, then?" he asked, genuinely curious. "'Invitation to Landel's Institute - Eh, you'll do.'? Or did they promise you a big salary increase? What? What was the reason and incentive for you guys to come out here?" And where had this other doctor gone if he wasn't around anymore and wasn't answering calls?

He let out a short groan of frustration when Wilson mentioned appointments. "It's a fucking impossibility, I'm almost convinced," he said, pushing his fingers up through his hair and pressing down on his scalp and temples. "I saw him for maybe a few minutes during the interview. Haven't seen him since; just heard him on the intercom. I figured hospital bureaucracy at first, but no, it's like there's roadblocks every step of the way. You ever see that woman Lydia, either? 'cause I sure haven't."

[oncological.livejournal.com]

It sounded like Venkman's process of getting here had been a bit more formal, if he'd gotten a phone call from the institute and everything else. Wilson's story was a bit embarrassing in comparison, but there was no reason to lie or hide it. "Well, I didn't even get contacted directly. My boss - the head of the hospital where I work - just told me and my colleague that we needed to pack up and head over here. She said it'd be temporary, and it's only been about a month and a half, I guess, but..."

Why had House been able to return home and he hadn't? Knowing his friend, he'd somehow broken through the system and then talked Cuddy into it. But... why would he have left him here? Was that part of the agreement? Maybe he'd been allowed to go so long as Wilson was left behind? Actually, that sort of dick move fit House pretty well, he had to admit.

Seeing that their experiences with getting to talk to someone highly-ranked in this place had more or less been the same, Wilson just sighed and shook his head. "Not a chance. The only people I ever seem to be able to get a hold of are the nurses." Venkman was right; there was bureaucracy and then there was... this.

"Anyway, will you excuse me for a second? I'm going to go grab something from the food counter." Wilson started to half-stand from his seat.