outsystems

her lips press together and she shakes her head. "you're such a liar. put a helmet on our kid next time or i'll kill you."

"if it helps, she didn't fall or crash all day. she's getting good balance, real coordinated."

they've been sitting in silence for what feels like an hour now — briar went out to go sell some poor high schooler oregano and cinnamon sticks, and on the way out he left this thing here. ugh. " come here. quickly. i need your autistic little boy brain. " her voice cuts through the silence from her place on their couch, dry and demanding as usual; esmeralda is aware he's more of a tech guy than a dinosaur guy, but she also knows @outsystems (arin) would never miss a chance to critique her. " i'm doing paleo art. does this look weird to you ? "

he doesn't have any sisters, but arin assumes it's kind of like having esme around. likes her fine enough. likes tap dancing on her last nerve even more — it's fine, it's mutual, his nose crinkling at his summons. "i'm taking that as a compliment and your way of saying i'm soooo smart and helpful. you're welcome." she would absolutely rather die than say either. he drags himself up off the other end of the couch and over to her side to peer over her shoulder, taking his time turning his head this way and that like he actually knows the first thing about art and what he's looking for. and all he can come up with? "needs to look more a chicken." whatever that means. you tell a guy birds are related to dinosaurs one time... "or maybe an emu. s'pose emus are just chickens with a basketball scholarship. but y'know." no, actually, nobody does. "looks cool otherwise though."

anyway im still thinking.

"spence, i just think it's funny how..." oh, he's in big trouble, "the picture you posted of our daughter earlier... she doesn't have her helmet and pads on."

@dvstbvnnies

it's hard— much harder than rowan ever thought it could be. of course, no one had ever said med school would be easy, but what he didn't expect, more so than the grueling hours and the on-the-spot teaching principles of the instructors at ptmc, was the inevitable toll it took upon himself. regret, disappointment, overthinking: all pillars of the mental whirlwind the student had only skimmed the top of. " i just don't know if i can do this, " he murmured, half to himself, embarrassment suddenly seeping in the moment his own admission hit the air. " maybe i'm just not for... this, i guess. i don't know. i'm sorry, sar— dr. heroux. i haven't made, uh... made many friends yet, either. "

she's heard that one before — from med students, the odd nurse, doctor, her own husband. hell, sarah has been the one going home at the end of a particularly rough day just to tell aksel the same thing. and she tells rowan the same thing they both always say, "that means you're the kind of person this place needs. you've worked hard to get here, it would be a shame not to put it to good use." empathy, not seeing oneself as infallible, willingness to look for guidance — all things she's noted in her coworkers that good at their jobs and aren't insufferable to be around. "you don't don't have anything to be sorry for, that's what i'm here for." she tilts her head to catch his eye, gives him a small reassuring smile. " you know, i think i know a few people you would get along with, if you'd like."