The Good Doctor

Clozapine

Schneeplestein's apartment was small,with very little in it. He did not need much, and when Sarah had left, he didn't have the heart to keep anything that she had left behind. So the apartment looked more like one of the hospital suites or a hotel room than an actual, lived-in apartment. Schneeplestein couldn't quite leave his job behind.

That's why Sarah left him.

Schneeplestein was not very hungry, but he knew that just a sandwich was not going to be very beneficial to him, so he heated up some ramen noodles and slurped it down while he checked through his messages. Most of them were from people trying to convince him to switch internet or phone or cable providers. One was from Malki who was calling to check up on him - what a sweet lady! - and the last one was from Jack.

"Hey, I heard rumour that you dreamed I didn't exist, or something. That's pretty funny! Anyway, call me if you need me. I'll see you whenever-ever... you're scheduled next. I have... Did you miss... say goodbye...."

The phone message disintegrated into static from a bad signal on Jack's phone, and the whole thing ended with a distorted laugh. Schneeplestein thought it sounded like Jack had a friend over, so he didn't feel the need to call back. Instead, he sat his half-eaten cup of noodles aside and laid back on his couch, letting his mind drift.

Sleep never came easy to him. That's part of what his medication was for. After the loss of his first patient, he had never slept well. He often blamed the nature of his profession, but that didn't stop the therapist from prescribing him something for it. For being a doctor, he sure loathed taking medication.

As his body began to relax, his mind began to whirl with all the events of the day. The nightmares, and the incident with Jim lingered heavily in his thoughts while odd questions floated just behind the memories. He still could not recall just how long ago he had begun at the hospital. Surely he should have been able to remember his interview with the office administrator. Damien was his name? He could not quite recall, but he remembered a man in a black suit, hair swept to the side, a well-trimmed beard shaved close to his face, and brown eyes that looked to be of Asian descent. Come to think of it, the man reminded him a lot of...

"Hello, Doctor Schneeplestein?" It was Jim's voice on the answering machine. The voice startled him. He must have missed the telephone ringing. Perhaps he had dozed off finally. His eyes popped open as he contemplated how Jim got his number.

"This is Jim from WJIM Channel 4 News, I'm the host..."

The message suffered from a bit of static before it regained its audio.

"... and I just wanted you to know that I know what's really going on. You can't lie to us, Henrich. If you think you can keep hiding the truth then-"

Henrich stood up from his couch, and in one swift, fluid movement he grabbed the phone, ripped it from the wall, chord and all, and tossed it across the room. He screamed as he threw it. The phone smashed into his television, cracking the screen, and tumbled down over the T.V. stand, taking several objects with it, including a picture in a frame that cracked on impact. The phone landed in a tangled mess, and the picture landed face-up.

A smile peeked past the cracked glass of the frame. Dark hair flowed around blue eyes that stared longingly at him. Schneeplestein knelt down and picked the broken frame up, handling it as if it would crumble away to dust in his hands had he not been careful.

"Oh Sarah," he moaned, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. Please come back."

Schneeplestein gave the edge of the frame a kiss, and set it back down on the ground. He didn't have the heart right now to clean anything up. He was so exhausted. So instead he made his way into his bedroom. He would sleep for now. It would be better tomorrow. He just needed to get some rest, and get back to work. There were lives to save, after all, and Schneeplestein was not about to let anyone down ever again.