"I Thought You Would be There for Me…" by Tris

Prof. Wilken's POV.


Wow! My first Prof. Wilkens fic! Sweet! Tell me if you think I wrote him right. The second chapter is longer, so you know.

Whenever I play New Blood and Markus walks into the Prof.'s office, just the look on his face as he questions the Prof. about his condition…it makes me go AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Yeah I know I'm lame. On with the show!! R/R s'il vous plait...I can't spell French to save my life!

Edit: All finished, I've just been tinkering a little with the word order. Professor Wilkens FTW!

I close the door behind me gently and walk down the dim hall, returning to my room. One of the night nurses smiles distractedly as she walks past, and I smile back, effectively (I hope) hiding my disappointment and hurt. Markus…I thought you would be there for me when I needed you. I didn't think you'd let me down like that…

"Have you been bedridden?" You asked this afternoon, as soon as you stepped into my office, with such gentle concern. I struggled to keep my thoughts together; it had been a painfully long time since I felt someone care. I'm used to people treating me with bland politeness, the older professor past his prime. And I know they keep aloof partially because I don't look like a conventional doctor. Rousseau has sharp-looking glasses; I wear a monacle. Markus, you keep your hair groomed to a fault--my long, gray locks border on unkempt. I've never fit a mold and I never will.

The truth is...your sensitivity stood out because this place is so unbearably cold. Dr. Chen is snappish and sour-tempered, Rousseau…no words…and the nurses do their work, murmur a hello and goodbye and then leave. When did I start living in this world carved of ice and snow, devoid of the warmth smiles or hugs bring? I see others, but they are puffs of breath, foggy ghosts that drift through me and leave nothing but an even more unbearable loneliness. That flash of kindness gave me hope…

I reach my door and pause as the thought strikes me afresh. Do you know what I wish, Markus? I wish you had never run away to that Alaskan wilderness. I wish you loved Stigma as much as I do and that we could be partners, researching this frightening miracle with passion, childlike delight and curiosity. Markus…I wish you could take over Concordia when I die, which may be soon…my body has grown so frail. Markus. Do you understand the significance of my telling you that my hands are not as steady as they used to be? I was handing you my honor, my dignity, because I trusted you would be respectful of them. I literally trust you with my heart.

And my poor Dr. Vaughn, can't you intuit another reason I came to your room tonight besides my request? It's such a sad and strange truth that the tiny child gets unabashed comfort in the face of the scalpel, but a doctor who is known for his research-- No, all seem to feel that such a person must face the pain on their own. Surely, they think, it's all a matter of routine to us…lies, all lies. How does getting older and wiser nullify fear of the unknown and unexperienced?

I shut myself into my room and flip the light off, sighing. If you had read my mind while we talked just minutes ago, you might have been astonished at what I wanted besides your vow to destroy the research. A quiet word of encouragement…maybe a pat on the shoulder, a "You don't have to worry about a thing Dr. Wilkens," accompanied by one of your grins. But it was clear from your face that you were in no mood to offer comfort, and I was tipped off as well by your flat, "I'll save your life. What more do you want?" So I was businesslike, even cold.

Now I pull the blankets up to my chin and pray this pillowcase will be dry by morning. What more do I want? Oh, Markus…Only that the life you give me will be worth living. And though I am a man who prizes knowledge, I know that life isn't worth living…unless you feel cared for.