Dr. Theodore Scott

“Jack.” He rocks on his heels, rubbing his hands down the side of his sweatpants. “I haven’t gotta shake your hand, have I?”

“Are you Hatchman’s replacement?” Josh blurts it out, although his brows aren’t furrowed with frustration now, instead drooping pitifully as his shoulders slump.

“Indirectly, yes. Might be a coincidence. But I’ll still be working here if- when he comes back. Was he your doctor?”

He gives a laugh that almost sounds convincing, setting his cup down on the table in favour of setting his other hand atop the surface like the first. Spencer’s posture is the perfect opposite of the doctor’s; wide open and baring as he shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m an amazing judge of character, Doctor Scott,” he informs the man. “I just think we’d be compatible.”

“Compatible?So you think I’m the perfect doctor for you or something?” He shook his head, amused with the idea. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself, kid.”

“Because I-” he takes the packet from him, “thank you. Because I feel hazy. They just changed one of the meds I was on and it makes me feel hazy, like I can’t keep up with the rest of the world and my thoughts at the same time.” He takes a second to pour the packet into his cup. “I think it’s the meds, anyway.”

“Have you told them that you’re feeling like this? There’s a lot of different reasons why you could be experiencing that.” He closes the cabinet and leans against it with his shoulder.

The fists that were clenched at Josh’s sides slowly raise as he crosses his arms over his chest, hunching subconsciously as the man’s tone pulls him back down to Earth. New. Maybe not so bad then. “S-sorry I… Was looking for someone,” he explains, feeling his neck heat up. “Sorry for– Ah.”

“You’re okay. What’s got you so worked up?” He sets his coffee down on the table. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Spencer’s hips are arched forward a little as he leans back slightly with one hand propped on the table behind him. His eyes move over the older man’s body, trying to get just a little more insight on him from the way he presents himself. “I like you better,” he shrugs. “Is that not a good enough reason?”

“I’d be a good enough reason if we hadn’t just met, don’t you think?” He crosses his arm in front of his chest, speaking in a stern- but good natured tone, “What’s the real reason, Spencer?”

“Oh, you’re a doctor…” Quickly, he pushes himself up to his feet, turns to face the man properly. “You’re a doctor?”

Arthur sticks with him as he crosses the room, careful not to knock anything over or disrupt anything that’s out; he doesn’t want to get in trouble, and he’s not sure he trusts this doctor’s kindness yet. “I’d like to change my medicines, I think,” he tells him. 

He opens the cabinet and almost immediately finds what they’re looking for. Theo takes one of the little packets and hands it to Arthur. “Why do you wanna change them? Have you talked to your regular doctor about it?”

Oh, Spencer thinks, that explains the alphabetical bookshelf. He takes a sip of his coffee then -never hot enough to leave for long in here- before he asks, “so no patients, huh, doc,” against the rim of the cup. “Does that mean I get to call first dibs?”

“First dibs? Why are you so eager to switch doctors?” He sets his cup down on the table next to Spencer. “Are they not treating you right, kid?”

Arthur steps through the door when he opens it for him, mumbling a quick “thanks”, then steps to the side to let the doctor lead the way. “What kind of doctor are you? Do you manage medicines?” 

Theo glances around the room searching for a pantry. He spots a cabinet that looks promising and he walks over to it. “I’m a psychiatrist. Which means, yeah, mostly I manage medicines but I’ve had training in psychoanalysis. So you can come to me to talk as well. But there’s other doctors here with more knowledge in talk therapy than me, I’m sure.”

He smiles mostly to himself as he mutters, “good,” and reaches over to fill a cup of his own with black coffee. “Boredom,” Spencer lies with an easy shrug. “I‘ve exhausted all of my other options.” He wishes he could add literally; could crack a joke about the guy he’d left in A2 sweating and panting after two rounds, but he doesn’t. Isn’t sure what to make of this guy yet. “You?”

Theo nods, “The same, boredom. Coffee as well. I tried to waste some time reorganizing the bookshelf in the recreation room but that didn’t take as long as I thought it would.” He shrugs, “I guess I’m just waiting for tomorrow at this point.”

“Are you not seeing patients?” Arthur asks. He follows along behind him and towards the kitchen, clutching his mug to his chest. “Am I one of your patients?”

“Not today- I haven’t been given my list yet. I’m sure someone will let you know if you get switched over to be.” Theo approaches the door and holds it open for Arthur to walk in, “Though, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your regular doctor, if you like them.”

Arthur’s not sure he believes him, but he chooses not to say so. “No, it’s usually… harsher. You really don’t mind getting some hot chocolate?” 

“I’ve got nothing but free time.” He gestures towards the kitchen door with a smile, prompting the other man to start walking. “Let’s go before your water gets cold.”

Spencer looks at the hand between them for a second, then smiles as he takes it. “Spencer Quinn,” he introduces, perhaps holding the exchange a little longer than necessary, before he draws his hand away again and turns slightly to perch on the table. “So, is it quiet as in ‘too quiet’ or like ‘fuck off and give me my space, I’m in here for some peace and quiet’ quiet?”

Theo’s hand drops back down to his side and he takes another drink from his coffee.  He nods, “First one- too quiet. I haven’t been assigned any patients yet, so I haven’t had too many conversations today. What brings you to the cafeteria?”

People are rarely in the canteen at this time. Spencer’s taken to coming at obscure hours just recently; dodging the crowds (or anyone entirely, for that matter) as he’d use the serving window (never locked - always forgotten) to slip into the kitchen and grab whatever caught his eye. A hunger strike sounded like an awesome idea at first, what with the quality checks surely coming up at any time, but then trying to explain his idea to Arthur surely couldn’t have gone well, and then weeks turned into months and still no checks came.

Still, even with that idea long gone now, the habit remained, which brings him here now, slipping into what he’d hoped to be an empty canteen, not to sneak a snack, but to stock up on whatever non-perishables he can find, to help himself to directly after his treatment this evening, by which time the kitchen will surely be locked.

He resists the urge to huff when he spots the man across the hall. Spencer lets the fire catch ease the door shut soundlessly as he crosses the space between them, not knowing exactly who he’s approaching until he’s just a few feet away. He’d heard talk of a new doctor but hadn’t considered he’s run into him yet. “You’re looking kind of lonely, doc. Need company?” Spencer places a hand on the table, leaning against it beside the man.

He smiles at the patient in front of him, “It is pretty quiet in here. I’m not sure we’ve met- I’m Dr. Scott. Or if you’d rather, I go by Theo too.” He holds out his free hand, offering a handshake. Theo recognizes the patient but can’t remember a name, he figures that he had probably seen his picture in one of the many files piled up on his wife’s desk.

Arthur narrows his eyes, just barely. “That’s… awfully nice of you,” he comments, somewhat skeptically. “What’s the catch?” 

“There’s no catch.” Theo notices his skepticism, “I’m guessing the other staff here don’t usually do things out of kindness?”

“You think that a ten year old, ga–” He stops himself. “Sorry, who are you anyway?”