Your Honor, I was just being silly

we need the luis carruthers hospital!au lore 🤍🤍

Ask and ye shall receive

Luis is a psychiatrist in the AU unlike the others (all surgeons) so you just KNOW he’s getting shit for a) not doing surgery and b) not being a “real doctor.” While I think from a “complying to the source material” perspective it’d make more sense for him to be a surgeon of some kind (maybe urology or maxillofacial), I just think this fits him vibe wise lol. Besides half the fun of an AU is getting to depart from the source material some :))

I've missed Hospital AU so much, and I'm grateful to @peepoo79 for sharing new delicious pieces of it. I revisited my drafts, where I found a list of AP characters and possible medical professions that fit them. In case you want to check it out, the first chapter of my Hospital AU series is here.

So, here we go!

Patrick Bateman

Patrick works in general surgery, and since everyone knows his father owns St. Pierce’s Hospital, most people avoid questioning his professionalism or experience—even though he’s only 27 years old. Still, rumors circulate behind his back: from being caught having sex with nurses in the on-call room to allegedly altering patient charts for unknown reasons.

Dr. Bateman likes to blast Phil Collins or Talking Heads tapes in the OR, which irritates just about everyone. Thanks to his narcissism, he always leaves flawless sutures—whether on a patient or a victim. He also enjoys gaslighting survivors into dependence with lines like, "Without me, you’d be dead," and collecting trophies: vials of blood, favorite ribs, and Polaroids of patients mid-surgery.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Bateman is secretly engaged to Evelyn Williams, the deputy chief physician. Evelyn can twist nearly everyone at the hospital around her finger, and Patrick is no exception. He hates it—but he can’t do anything about it. The blonde woman often calls him into her office and starts touching him, simply because she’s bored. She wants him to fuck her on the dark wooden desk among all the certificates, diplomas, awards, and framed photos. In one of them, Evelyn stands next to a fat, ugly man who’s apparently the chief physician. Patrick has never understood why his father chose to keep that guy as head of the hospital.

"Jesus Christ, Evelyn," Patrick muttered as she straddled him in the leather armchair. Her hands roamed the soft fabric of his scrubs while her mouth left lipstick marks just above the mole on his Adam’s apple. "I'll have to scrub this shit off all day."

The rumors about their "workplace affair" didn’t bother either of them. In fact, Evelyn was thrilled to let everyone know she was screwing one of the hottest surgeons in the hospital.

What she didn’t know was that Bateman also occasionally fucked Courtney Rawlinson. He couldn’t resist her attention, not that he ever truly tried. The fact that the two women were best friends didn’t stop him. It didn’t even stop him from having filthy fantasies about fucking both of them at the same time in one of the ORs.

God, yes. One day he’d definitely do it.

Timothy Bryce

Tim is one of the best anesthesiologists at St. Pierce’s Hospital and always accompanies Patrick during surgeries because they’re close friends. Sometimes, however, they’ll cause a scene mid-operation because one of them dared to say the other’s scrubs looked better. The medical staff call Tim cynical, detached, and erratic, but he doesn’t give a fuck about anyone’s opinion—unless it’s his or Patrick’s. The latter shares the same attitude toward Bryce, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

Timothy likes to smoke in the doctors’ lounge, brushing off complaints from irritated doctors and nurses. The smell of his cigarettes has become familiar to everyone who works the same shifts. From time to time, Tim and Patrick lean casually against the hospital railing, shooting scornful looks at passersby while puffing on cigars and rating women’s asses. Alas, no one can really condemn them for being assholes.

Timothy used to be in a relationship with another anesthesiologist named Vanessa Cliff. Unfortunately, they broke up after she left him for a handsome medical student. Since then, Bryce has hated med students with a vengeance. He’s always strict—often unfair—no matter how hard they try to impress him.

"Are you sure you chose the right profession, honey?" Bryce would ask a random student, holding a clipboard between his fingers with a wry smile. "Because I have my doubts."

One day, when he practically caught two students fucking in the utility room, he didn’t even scold them. He just warned the guy to use a condom—because these days, AIDS was real as hell to catch, especially if you had an erratic sex life.

And still, after all the shit that happened with Vanessa—even when he was lying in bed with a young, pretty student with amazing tits and an ass to match—he couldn’t stop thinking about that bitch. He wanted her back. He wanted them back.

How many times had he nearly cried on Bateman’s shoulder, almost using his scrubs like a personal handkerchief? Patrick hated it—but since Tim was the only genuinely interesting man he knew, he couldn’t leave his friend in the dirt. Especially when Bryce was absolutely wasted, volatile, and ready to burn the world down.

Craig McDermott

Dr. McDermott is probably the hardest doctor to get an appointment with—he’s handsome, sassy, smart, and a gynecologist. He knows his craft, and every one of his patients can vouch for that. Women are simply obsessed with him. Even though Craig has never been caught doing anything illegal, some people claim he keeps his patients’ panties in his drawer. One nurse even stated that McDermott sketches vaginas in his planner.

Still, Craig always has a clever explanation for the rumors, insisting it’s all for scientific purposes. In truth, he genuinely enjoys drawing female genitals—especially the ones he considers "pretty" in a way only he understands. Talking about pussies has become a casual thing among the doctors during lunch in the hospital cafeteria. David Van Patten calls him a freak and covers his ears every time Craig opens his mouth, while Bateman and Bryce just roll their eyes and smirk. As if they can actually relate to Craig’s particular obsession—which is absurd.

Of course, it’s all medicine. Nothing illegal. Nothing at all.

Whenever Craig walks by, nurses blush and giggle, wondering if he’s dating anyone. If only McDermott could answer that himself, since he occasionally sees someone and then suddenly doesn’t. Women of different ages, hair colors, and body types—but preferably with large breasts—can often be found in his bed in the morning before he heads in for his shift.

At first glance, you might call Craig the hospital’s resident womanizer. But there’s one secret he keeps buried—about a woman who works at the coffee shop next door. He’s terrified not just that the secret might come out, but that he’ll have to admit the truth: that he, the untouchable heartbreaker, actually gives a damn.

"I swear, Bryce, one chick today literally cummed the second I stuck my finger in her," Craig muttered, grinning with that cocky blend of pride and awe that made the others shake their heads. "I can only imagine what’d happen if I used two. She’d probably flood the damn exam room."

David Van Patten

Dr. David Van Patten is an impeccable cardiologist who won the 1987 Doctor of the Year Award. Some say he only got it because he paid for it, or because he’s the chef’s favorite doctor at St. Pierce’s Hospital. In the end, though, it didn’t matter—the shiny plaque stood proudly in a glass case in David’s office, which he always points out during patient appointments. Van Patten might even be more narcissistic than Bateman, and Bryce once suggested they compete to determine who’s the biggest egomaniac at the hospital (not that Timothy excluded himself—he considers himself far more noble).

Sometimes, David even claims noble ancestry, literally insisting he was born into a royal family somewhere in England. Every time he says it, female patients giggle and blush, while some of the men loathe him for living such a luxurious life. And he wasn’t even some fucking businessman or celebrity—he was a doctor.

Van Patten actually dislikes informal conversations with patients, but sometimes they lead him down paths where his ego gets worshipped beyond anything he could have imagined.

One of his most zealous patients, a middle-aged blonde woman, sat on the examination bed—topless, though using her hands to cover her chest. David hadn’t even noticed her undressing while he was grabbing his glasses from the oak desk.

"Oh, Dr. Van Patten, I remember you told me you go horse-riding quite often," she murmured, fidgeting slightly. "Where’s your favorite place to ride? Is it somewhere in the Hamptons?"

Van Patten was flattered—but, goddamn it, he’d lost count of how many times this woman had tried to seduce him.

"Mrs. Wolcott," David said, stopping at the edge of the examination bed, folder in hand, filled with lab results and health notes. "I’ve reviewed your bloodwork and noticed elevated cholesterol levels."

Her face fell instantly.

"If you keep eating greasy food,"he continued dryly, "you won’t be riding horses—you’ll just be counting them in your dreams. Got it?"