Multi-Fandom One Shots

You Can Pretend You're on Top (Mildred Ratched) NSFW

Anyone who met Nurse Ratched could tell she liked to be in control. From the day you met her, marching up to your spot at the nurse's station, ringing your little bell, she expected you to do as she said. At first, she was professional. She wanted to speak with the only doctor in the entire facility. You smiled at her cordially. "For what business?" you answered easily. 

Setting down a folder, the woman pulled out a letter, explaining she was there for a job interview. That was odd as very little had changed recently so no additional staff would be necessary. She held the envelope out, a gesture of trust, but also a command. She wanted you to take it, the proof. 

But you didn't have the authority to take her anywhere or tell her anything. So, instead of going to Dr. Hanover who wasn't even in, you told the woman you'd find a nurse. You thought she was blowing smoke up your skirt, claiming to have mistaken you for a nurse. "Oh, no, ma'am. I'm a floor-girl. I watch the majority of the patients and let the higher ups know if anyone is working themselves up. I'm kind of like an orderly, but I can't lift a patient and I tend to convince patients to cooperate." You don't know why you felt the need to explain your duties. There was a very fair chance she wouldn't be working here anytime soon anyway. But you tracked down the Head Nurse and explained all that you had been told. You watched as the woman took apart the applicant, doubting her and her story. You also saw how the woman, Mildred Ratched, handled the Head Bitch in return. She sat in that very chair for four hours. In that time, you decided to eat your lunch at the station. Coming back from the kitchen, you found her still seated. She was stubborn and she thought her hard head would get her what she wanted, out-last everyone else's will. You continued your steps down the hall, turning to go around the pillar at the last second. You walked the wall to stand by her lamp decorated table. You set a paper towel down, then a vine of grapes, then a glass of water. Ms. Ratched looked sideways at it abruptly. Where she was in control, you were a caregiver. You went back to the station without a word to the intruder. You ate and watched the room. There were only a few patients in this area, so mostly your eyes were drawn to the woman. 

You still weren't sure how she got the job. But she was a nurse who worked much the same hours as you. You worked a little longer than most nurses and the orderlies. You liked getting the patients into bed, and usually got up and came in early enough to get them up. You enjoyed what you did, helping the patients, but after long enough employed here, everyone had to crack down on their control. Or the patients would run all over you all. You were stern when necessary, but mainly kind and just a helper to anyone who needed it. 

Mildred saw the reflection of herself in you. Where she was happy to ease their suffering, to genuinely help, she did enjoy the control. Forcing herself into her position, fighting every second, it was exhausting but exactly what she'd been looking for all her life. It was a thrill and she was winning. She made her mark, made friends, and it was paying off. She had her brother, she had friends, and she had you. She wasn't sure when you became more than a friend. Your mere kindness had gotten you to that mark. It must've been your capability that bonded her to you. Mildred half expected to be alone as ever at work. Yes, her peers would help with a volatile patient if she needed it, but basic tasks which were in her job description.... If she needed aid, you seemed to know it. You knew when she needed another nurse to double-check her insulin, just for safety reasons, and you could translate garbled speech where she couldn't. Of course, you'd worked there longer. But you were everywhere at once, always when she needed you, and you had the instincts of a nurse, but none of the authority. You told Mildred in passing that one of the full-blown Schizos was about to blow a fuse and you felt he needed some chlorpromazine. 

While usually receptive to your aid, Mildred's lunch had been eaten by someone else. You both knew who. So the hungry woman merely glared at you as she would have Huck in your place. "I do not need you to tell me my job."