yes, every road leads to an end Who: Lucas and John What: rocky first meetings Where: LA County Hospital When: mid-morning
John moved quietly out of the hospital room, one hand passing over the smooth, deep blue silk of his tie. As he left he heard the quiet conversation strike up. It was one he had heard hundreds of times before; sometimes invited to participate, sometimes not. He never listened unless he was invited to do so. These were not easy conversations, and all those involved deserved whatever privacy they could find. With this in mind he pulled the door nearly shut behind him, standing in front of it for one brief moment before moving out into the hall.
A passing nurse waved to him. He returned the gesture, a small smile quirking his lips, gone as quickly as it had come. Even after all this time, even given his deep devotion to it, his work still weighed on him at times. He drew a deep breath, exhaling on a lengthy sigh, and began the walk to the lobby downstairs. He had time enough for coffee between now and his next appointment. Perhaps long enough to call Laura, or at least to text her some small, cheerful thing.
Lucas had been having his morning coffee break with a fellow doctor, using the time to get a quick consult on a new patient while they ate muffins and sipped their liquid caffeine. On his way back to the elevator he spotted someone that gave him pause, the face ringing a bell but taking far too long to click with the matching name. As soon as it did, he frowned. “Excuse me,” he said to his friend, walking straight over to the other man.
“Excuse me, are you lost,” he asked, trying his best to keep his tone casual, even though his eyes and body language had begun to give him away. Tensed shoulders, narrowed eyes, fingers gripping his coffee cup a little too hard. He knew who this man was, he’d seen his face in the papers. Seeing him in his hospital had him instantly on the defensive.
John, on the other hand, looked perfectly at peace. "I am not, Doctor…" One dark brow arched, his eyes flicked down to the young man's nameplate. "Peters. Pleasure to meet you. The Adler family speaks very well of you." Lucas raised his eyebrows, but out of shock rather than interest.
“You’ve been speaking to my patients?” he said in an accusatory tone. “They have nothing to talk to you about,” he said, his voice rising just a touch, “you’re not needed here.” He knew the man was perfectly within his rights to visit anyone who invited him, but if he was hanging out in the hospital soliciting work from patients...he’d definitely have something to say about it. He’d worked hard to keep the Adler family’s spirits up. He knew it looked bleak to them, but it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t, even though the tests have all come back with the worst possible news. Even so, his gut told him it wasn’t the end, so he kept fighting for them.
"Mrs. Adler and her family appear to disagree." John's hands slipped into the pockets of his trousers; his silver ring winked in the light just before disappearing behind dark cloth. "Stage four pancreatic cancer leaves a person so little within their control. I would think as her physician, you would be pleased she is exploring all of her end of life options." He took a step closer, his tone gone somehow still more soothing than before. "No-one can choose their time," he said, "but at least some are granted the ability to choose their place. Not everyone wants to die in a borrowed bed surrounded by strangers."
Lucas didn’t respond at all to the placating tone, taking a half step back away from the other man. “This isn’t her time, or her place,” he shot back. “She’s in treatment, which means that no one has given up on her yet, and there’s every chance it’ll put her in remission. Anything you might be...discussing...with her is completely premature and inappropriate.” He’d only just this morning explained the experimental treatment to her and her family, and they’d seemed eager, even hopeful when she’d agreed to the treatment. This move...was very different than he’d been expecting from them after that meeting.
"Premature, perhaps," John said. "Not at all inappropriate. I was invited, Dr. Lucas. I am sorry if you find my presence threatening, but I assure you, I want what's best for Mrs. Adler just as much as you do." His head canted slightly, dark eyes studying the young man before him. Whatever judgement he may have passed was unreadable from his stony expression, and he gave no voice to it.
“What’s best for her is to continue treatment,” Lucas said, eyes slightly narrowed, “It will work, and she’ll get better. She doesn’t need you.” He said it with a certainty that made it sound as if he already knew the outcome, as if there was no question of it happening any other way.
"We are all going to die, Dr. Lucas. Mrs. Adler wants to be prepared for any way that may occur. You don't have to like me. You do have to respect her wishes."
“I don’t know you enough to not like you,” Lucas admitted, “but it’s what you stand for I don’t like. Convincing people to take the easy way out when there is treatment options available? I became a doctor to save lives, not to take them. I know the law here, and I also know that I’m required as a doctor to do everything possible to dissuade them from that decision. And I will.” It wasn’t a threat, it was a fact. He was a doctor, and he would advocate for life.
John's hands remained in his pockets, but he took a step closer all the same. His voice lowered to a soft, rumbling whisper. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me again, Dr. Lucas. Let me be perfectly clear. The only convincing I do is convincing federal and state governments to allow freedom of choice to their citizens. I also work with hospice, which Google can helpfully explain to you should you require it. And if you think physician-assisted suicide is an easy way out, I suggest you hop off your high horse for just a minute and go speak with Mrs. Adler. Listen to her, listen to her feelings and rationale, instead of being blinded by your own moral superiority. Your duty is to her. You're awfully young to have already forgotten that."
He straightened up, a soft smile crossing his lips once more. "I believe we're done here. You have a good day, Dr. Lucas. I'm sure I'll see you again soon."
Lucas listened to the other man, heard his words, but couldn’t bring himself to be swayed by them. He was a man of medicine, of healing. He knew that death was a natural part of life; he’d seen patients who he knew were dying, helped keep them comfortable in their final days, but they were elderly, at the end of their natural lifespan. He’d just ‘known’ it was their time, just like he just ‘knew’ that this wasn’t Mrs. Adler’s. She was still relatively young, and he was convinced that she had a lot of life left in her. This...wasn’t the way for her. Not yet.
He narrowed his eyes at John as he walked away from him, staying in that spot and following him with his eyes as his friend came up behind him from their lunch table.
“Who was that?” the guy asked innocently. Lucas, still glaring daggers at John, merely turned his head towards his friend’s voice, though his eyes remained fixed on John’s back.
“The angel of death,” he said darkly, watching John leave the building and then sighing and turning away.