WRATH OF GOD

Oh, doctor, you can talk toast & butter to me all day. He thinks the accent is funny. Not hot, necessarily, but it humors him. It's got such a fancypantsness to it, and here he is telling Alex about arrogance. Not that you have to be arrogant as a prerequisite to be British, but I wouldn't doubt it if there's actually a license for that, and you'd have to stand in a queue to register. Don't worry, he speaks in a Texas-drawled cowboy-cocky way, full of fucking Southern idiomatic expressions and bizarre analogous descriptions, it's just as intelligible to the average American as you are. Maybe that makes you kindred spirits, this you & I. A Brit surgeon and a Cowboy surgeon. That makes an Australian slasher.

some random bullet points i can make out on a small time crunch i have rn:

follows his main modern verse into his navy seal career

instead of staying for life and eventually going into DEVGRU and all that fed jazz, somewhere in his late 20s, he instead goes to medical school

probably a moment of vulnerability and frailty, thinking back about his mom

he's still in his hardass, quiet, laser-focused to a hateful fault stage in his life, excels in med school

new grad, gets his residency match back in Texas to be closer to his aging father again since he's gonna be living, and working, stateside full time. something that seems strange for military men like both of them to think about.

decides on his specialty, or rather, the specialty decided him; i mean, look at him. that's an orthobro. an ortho fellow by his late 30s, he's mellowed out, more in touch with... being a person, a real person, being in the real world, and less religiously insane. don't ask. trauma.

doing well for himself, this Dr. Eisenhower that he is. big man, big presence, large and in charge in his lil OR. nicknames Dr. Iron for his vibes, and for the occupational last name meaning iron miner.

at this point, this can server as a general medical AU verse, as well as it can be further extended to the specific The Pitt verse, where he receives a strong offer from PMC as an external hire to enter their ortho surgical program.

he's aware of PMC's... difficulties but the challenge doesn't deter god's silliest and strongest goose with two flaming scalpels. it's probably why the offer from corporate had to be very generous to entice experienced outside talent to come over.

part 2 random bullepoints for his medical/the pitt verse now that i'm home:

certified greys anatomy ahhh hot doc flirty menace. hide yo nurses, hide yo wives, hide yo attendings even. none y'all safe. he's 6'5" btw.

yes, he's a cowboy doc, pulls up to work in his nice Ariat boots AND Ariat scrubs. do NOT ask him about it he will talk to you about it, a lot.

owns several pairs of silly goosed patterned scrub caps; some wild camo, some ocp camo, a lot of fish and fishing related ones (again, do NOT ask him about the fish thing). never seen wearing a basic ass solid-color scrub cap unless he just showed up and had to wear hospital-available ones.

like all his fellow vets-into-docs, he's not without... issues, but most of his stem from a much earlier, childhood trauma. he's developed some mildly sociopathic behaviors and tendencies which ironically have worked well in his two high shock factor careers thus far. he has had a lot of management and therapy in his child & teenage years; very high functioning.

frequently covers the nightshift within the ortho department; not because he ends up with it, but he kinda likes it. special operators are nocturnal animals, and it's a lifestyle. pay's higher in certain places, too. it's also less wild overnight; he likes it orderly.

He might be on a snack break, but he still watches like a hawk, just in case. You never know when you need to put the treat down and get involved, after all. But it sounds like they've got things sorted. Richie nods to release his resident from lingering, watching only long enough to be sure she's got an idea of where she's needed most next before his attention is back on Dr. Iron.

Not that it has to be fully fuck and no kill at all, by the way. Just saying. He can handle 'em a little crazy. He makes the cutest little feigned sad puppy face with high arched brows, downturned lips & frown. ❝Aww... I've got a big heart, too, y'know! Be nice. It ain't just the big ego, and the big prowess, and the big, ah...❞ click of the tongue and a wink over at Richie across the nurse's station as he wiggles his brows, and just like that, the puppy illusion is gone. What a ruse. Who could've seen that coming. ❝Boots. My shoe size is no joke. Yer a tall dude, too, y'know how big it gets.❞ Then he scoots on over to lean in real close on the other half of the countertop that was unoccupied by Richie also leaning into it, forearms bumping into each other, coming eye to eye. ❝Or... maybe ya don't know. I mean... happens, happens...❞ little shrug of the shoulders as he's looking mighty smug, yet somehow more inviting than challenging. ❝Everythin's bigger in Texas, is all, just sayin'. Everythin'. Y'know, maybe—❞ he stops right there as his name is called—his actual name—not that Dr. Iron hype bullshit like he likes, by the resident girl that had called in for consult. The family had arrived, and here she was, notifying him, as requested, with the family following close behind.

Oh, and if Richie hadn't had a chance to read his name before, she just said it: Dr. Eisenhower. In any case, back to the, well, case: an elderly woman herself accompanied by two middle aged people, one man and one woman. That must be the daughter the resident mentioned. When you're a centenarian, that happens, your children end up being in their 70s or even 80s when they come visit you, if they're still in good shape in the best case... or they're dead, in the worst case. Possibly a patient next door to yours in the funny-case scenario. The other two must be her grandchildren then. Dr. Eisenhower, then, locks the fuck in, taking a deep breath and putting on a perfect plastic smile and goes on to greet them all and huddle everyone over into the patient's room, resident included. She's her doctor after all, not him. He's just the OR princess here waiting for you peasants to do everything else and roll out the red carpet. He makes this joke all the time and ensures the residents and student-doctors are getting some credit where they can. Still, it's a tough conversation in there nonetheless, one that the family has been aware of for quite some time, actually. They were rather well prepared to hear it and didn't take offense or explode or cause a scene. Dr. Eisenhower explained and offered all of the possible options for their mother/grandmother at this time, noting the recovery for a surgery can brutal when you're one hundred and two years old with severe osteoporosis, dementia, prone to trying to get outta bed on your own... well, the family got the picture. The resident was more mortified than they were, at any rate. He excused himself and the resident along with him to give the family some privacy and space to think, decide what they want to proceed with.

❝Alright, well... that's what an ortho consult in the ED looks like. Any questions?❞ Silence. She probably did, but it was probably inappropriate. She's just a little green is all. First week in your residency. You'll see someone die soon enough, as well as families who decide it's time to let go. You'll also see families who absolutely fucking refuse to accept it's time to let go. That's way more complicated. ❝Okay, uhh, keep yer attending posted before y'put in any orders—never go behind Abbot's back—and if family ends up choosin' surgery, y'all lemme know. Prep n' ship 'em up. I think that's all we need here. Hang in there, you'll survive residency. Good work out there.❞ Another one of his double-pats down on her shoulders which looks kinda cartoonish with their height difference. Now if you'll excuse each other, she has to do actual work around here, catch up on her charting, see other new ED patients, and Dr. Iron has to go back to pickin' on someone his size.