Knock knock.

“Who's there?”

“Doctor Robinson.”

“Doctor Robinson who?”

Noah sighed and pushed the door open with one hand, balancing the food tray on the other. “I brought your dinner,” he said, walking over to the bed and setting the tray on the bedside table.

“...I don't get it. That's not a very funny joke,” Lenny said with a frown, but quickly forgot what he was saying in favor of examining his food. “Yummy! Play-dough!”

“Those are mashed potatoes,” the doctor told him, checking the patient's chart. He scanned through all the details—his diagnosis, health history, his scheduled transferral to a bigger hospital in the next town—before his eyes rested on the medication information. “Let's see... On your modified dosage you'll need another dose of medicine at six in the morning.”

The patient nodded, not really hearing what he was saying. Instead he was intently looking at the fork in his hand. “I like this,” he said after a while. “Do they come in orange?”

“No. Is there anything else you need, Mr. Berkley?” Noah asked, eager to leave the room. He wasn't keen on listening to the technically high patient any longer than necessary. As he well knew, Lenny could get much crazier than requesting orange forks.

“Berkley?” he asked, grinning. “If you wanna help me, call me by my name! Meatloaf!”

Noah stared at him for a moment before deciding it was best to humor the patient. “...Right. I'll be back to check on you later, then, Meatloaf.” He waited for a nod in reply before leaving the room and heading back to the make-shift center of operations.

The need for a nurses' station was, for the moment, nonexistent, since there were no nurses on call the night of December 31^st, 1997. For that matter, there were only two doctors in the whole hospital, plus an intern. Two doctors and an intern to take care of four patients on new years eve. There were less patients than most doctors had alone in the hospitals of bigger cities, but it still made Noah uneasy. There could be an accident somewhere around town, and there wouldn't be enough of them to get to everyone in time. The nurses' station was where the three of them had set up for the night, because it was closest to the patients' rooms and gave them a fairly good view of the entrance door. For the most part, they didn't have time to keep someone standing watch at the door, so they settled for just being able to see it if they looked.

As Noah came to the 'base' as Cynthia lovingly called it, the first thing that he noticed was that the small TV that was mounted on the wall was on, and their intern was sitting in an office chair, watching something.

“Don't go away,” the TV blared, “because right after these commercials we're bringing you all your favorite artists and bands performing live to welcome in the new year!”

“Why are you watching that?” Noah asked, causing the intern to jump and swivel around in her chair.

“D-doctor Robinson! I—I'm sorry, I was on break, and...” Lisa paused, taking a deep breath. “I thought maybe it would be nice if the patients could watch the ball drop.”

Noah didn't hesitate. “I'll think about it,” he said, but it was obvious by his tone that he wasn't keen on the idea. “In the meantime, Mr. Johnson needs to be checked on.”

She nodded and hurried down the hall to the old man's room without another word. Just as she left, another woman breezed in.

“Good grief, Noah,” Cynthia scolded. “Could you at least try not to scare off our only intern?”

Noah pretended not to hear her, preferring instead to check a certain patient's file for the 15^th time that night. When Cynthia noticed what he was doing, her gaze softened slightly. “Looking at that again isn't going to change anything,” she told him. He just sighed, putting it away again.

Esther Smith had been a long-time patient of the hospital, and they had just had to break the news to her that she had cancer. She didn't have any insurance, and was a single mother of a nine-year-old boy that had to stay in the hospital with her because he had no one else to take care of him. She was sort of the favorite patient of most if not all of the doctors, because she was so kind and calm, an everyone wanted to help her recover in any way possible. What most of them didn't want to accept was that there might not be any way for them to help.

“Lisa is checking on Mr. Johnson, and I just gave Lenny his meal and pills,” Noah said, changing the subject. “Who do you want to check on?” There were only two patients left.

Cynthia smiled. “Just because I think you need practice dealing with teenage girls, I think I'll go check on Esther,” she said smugly.

“Oh, thank you. So much,” Noah said sarcastically. He picked up the girl's chart and walked down the hall to a room with a nameplate that said “Darcy Ingram”.

Seven miles away, a man in a black coat was walking down a country highway, alone, in the dark. If it hadn't been so dark and someone had been around to watch the man, they would have seen a look of defiance on his face, or maybe it was closer to contempt. He was clenching and unclenching one of his hands, and there was a small trail of blood running down a couple of his fingers, dripping off the tips and making a small, barely-noticeable trail behind him on the pavement.

If it hadn't been so dark, and someone had been around to see for how long the trail of blood went on, they would know that the man had been walking for five miles already, the same expression on his face and the same blood running down his fingers. When they came to the end, though, they wouldn't find any clues as to where the man had come from, or why he was bleeding. They would find that the trail just stops. Nothing would look out of place; it would just look like any other country highway, and yet there would be something wrong, something that they wouldn't be able to put their finger on.

Maybe then, if it hadn't been so dark, and if there was someone around to puzzle about the problem, they would realize that the highway was completely empty, except for the man with blood dripping off his fingers five miles away, walking with a determined expression on his face.

“Hello, Darcy. How are you feeling?”

The girl the question had been directed at ignored him, instead continuing to stare out the window with a forlorn expression. There was something wrong with the looks of her; she was a pretty girl, with long, chestnut brown hair and big dark eyes. The average person wouldn't have noticed, though; instead, their eyes would have been drawn straight to the ugly scars on her neck.

“...Hello? Do I get any acknowledgement?” Noah asked after a moment, looking hard at the girl. Finally, she turned her head to face him.

“Hello, Dr. Robinson,” she said, her voice a little bit raspy. “Can I help you with something?”

“I brought you a snack, since you didn't eat dinner,” he told her, setting a small tray on her bedside table. On it was an assortment of things: a small bag of cookies, a glass of juice, a cup of yogurt and a spoon, an orange, a ziplock bag of pretzels, and some carrots and ranch dressing.

“I'm still not hungry,” she told him quietly, her eyes diverting to her lap.

“You need to eat, Darcy,” he told her, his voice carrying a borderline stern edge in it. “You know that.”

“But I'm just not hungry,” she said again, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Then try to eat anyway.” He paused, sighing. “You don't want us to have to feed you through a tube again, do you? Eating voluntarily is a much more pleasant way to go, don't you think?”

Darcy looked back down at her lap again, not saying anything for quite a while. He used the time to look her over again. She didn't look like she had tried anything since the last time he had seen her. There were small scars on her wrist and up the inside of her arm, a couple of burn marks on her fingers, and, of course, the slowly healing marks on her neck. Nothing new.

“I guess I'll try to eat,” she eventually said, but didn't sound happy about it. Noah was willing to take anything he could get.

“Good. Don't try to go too fast, but see how much you can handle,” he instructed. She nodded and slowly picked up the cup of yogurt and the spoon, opened it up, and began eating. Satisfied, Noah decided it was safe to leave.

“Is there anything else you think you'll need for a while?” he asked.

She stopped moving for a moment to think. “...It's New Years' Eve, right?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“...Are we going to watch the ball drop?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean... Well, we always used to at home...”

Her inquiry caught Noah off-guard. “Er... I'm not sure,” he answered. He hadn't planned on it when Lisa had asked, but now he had to wonder whether that would be the best thing for all the patients. None of them had TVs in their rooms; the closest TV in the hospital was at the nurses' station, where the intern had been watching the news. “I'll talk to Dr. Gardner and let you know, okay?”

Darcy nodded and went back to her yogurt, and Noah took his leave, now deep in thought.

It wouldn't be that bad to get all the patients around the TV for a few minutes, would it? There were only four of them, plus a 9-year-old child; it wouldn't be terribly difficult. It just seemed like an odd thing to do. He had always done things by the book, never thinking to do anything in a way that was different than anyone that had come before him. But now, there he was, almost completely in charge of a small group of people. Would it be in everyone's best interest to go through the trouble of letting everyone watch the ball drop?

Just as he was getting into his mental quandary, a serious-looking Cynthia snapped him out of his thoughts. “What's wrong?” he asked, his mind immediately jumping to the worry that something had happened to Esther.

“I just got a call from 911,” she told him. “There's a woman going into labor in town, and they don't have a car to drive here. I'm going to have to go to their house and deliver the baby there.”

Noah sighed. “Wonderful. So it'll just be me for the rest of the night, then?”

“Most of it, anyway,” she confirmed. “And, look on the bright side: what if I didn't have the training to help this woman in labor? We'd have a big problem.”

“Sure,” he answered, not really feeling like looking on the bright side.

“Anyway. How was Darcy? Did you get her to eat?” Cynthia asked.

Noah nodded. “When I left she was eating yogurt, and she said she'd try to eat as much as she could.”

Cynthia grinned. “That's great! See, Noah? You're not so bad with patients after all. Oh, I got the call right after you left and I've been putting together some things to take with me ever since, so you get to check on Esther, too.”

Noah nodded. “Are you sure you'll be okay out there?” he asked.

An amused look spread across her face. “Please! I grew up on a farm; I can't even count the number of nights I stayed up helping my dad with livestock giving birth. This is basically the same thing.” She paused, smirking. “In fact, I'd be more worried about you being able to hold down the fort around here. But, I guess I shouldn't worry. You've got Lisa to help you, and no one is in a dire state or anything.”

“That's true, I guess,” Noah agreed reluctantly.

“Well, I'd better go. Have fun around here,” she said, picking up her bag of things she would be needing, and headed out the door.

“Yeah,” he said under his breath once she had gone. “Fun.”

Lisa came out of Mr. Johnson's room and quickly made her way to the nurses' station, looking slightly alarmed. She looked around for a minute, spotting only Noah sitting in an office chair, rummaging through some papers. “...Where's Cynthia?” she asked.

“She had to leave,” he answered, not looking up. “Someone called with a woman in labor, so she went to help them. You're stuck with me for the rest of the night.” He paused and, looking up, noticed her expression. “What's wrong?”

“Just that... Well, Mr. Johnson wants to talk about his medication again. I think he's trying to leave as soon as possible...” she told him.

Noah sighed. The old man had never been very easy to deal with, and it had gotten even worse now that his health was steadily declining. “I'll go talk to him,” he said, setting the papers down. As he got up he gave her some instructions. “Would you mind getting a tray of snack food for me? I've got a feeling John will be asking for it before the night is over.”

Lisa nodded and hurried off to the small kitchen while Noah went in the opposite direction, heading to Gus Johnson's door.

“It's about time,” Mr. Johnson said as soon as he saw who had walked in the door. “I've been trying to get that girl to let me talk to a real doctor for 20 minutes! Why is she here again?”

“She's an intern,” Noah explained for the third time at least since the man had arrived the day before. “She's learning about being a doctor at our hospital, and does things like run errands for us so that we can focus on more important tasks.”

“Well, she shouldn't keep me from my right to see my doctor,” he huffed.

“I'm sorry you felt like she was doing that. I'll talk to her,” Noah lied. He was fairly certain Lisa was just trying to do her job and check up on him, while he was making things difficult by complaining. Talking to her wouldn't help anything. “So, what's the matter? Anything I can help with?”

“I want you to put me back on my old medication so I can leave,” he stated.

“You know we can't do that, Mr. Johnson,” Noah told him. “We took you off of the other medication because it would interfere with the stroke medication you're on now.”

“But I was doing just fine before you switched it! I want to go back to my old medication, and I want to leave.” Gus clenched his hands in frustration.

Noah sighed and paused for a moment. “I know you want to leave,” he said sympathetically. “I understand completely. But it's just not as simple as that. Going back to your old medication won't fix anything; it'll just make things worse, and then it'll take even longer for you to get out of here.”

The old man looked away, staring at the wall opposite his bed instead. He didn't like what he was hearing, Noah knew, but it was important that he knew. “Believe me, we're working as hard as we can to get you out of here and back home again,” he continued on. “What you can do to help us is cooperate with us and try to be patient.”

“...Fine,” Mr. Johnson grumbled, his gaze still diverted.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No,” he shook his head. “You can leave now.”

Noah nodded and exited the room, leaving the old man to himself.

“Hello, Dr. Robinson,” Esther said with a smile as Noah walked in. “I was beginning to wonder if you'd fallen asleep.”

He shook his head. “Sorry; Cynthia had to go to town to help a woman in labor, so it's just Lisa and me for the rest of the night,” he explained apologetically.

Esther shook her head, still smiling. “Don't worry about it. I know you're busy.”

“...Yeah. I...” He paused, looking around. “Where's John?”

Just then a small figure jumped up from behind the bed and made a face at him. “There's no John here!” he exclaimed with a defiant look. On further inspection, Noah realized that he had scribbled a mustache under his nose with a pen and used water to make his hair stick straight up.

“Hello, John,” he said, ignoring the boy's exclamation. “I brought you some food, since you decided you didn't want to eat dinner.”

“My name isn't John!” he complained indignantly. “It's Hannibal!”

“You've been watching too much TV,” Noah replied simply, setting the tray down on the table and tossing the boy a bag of chips. He didn't complain, and sat down on his mother's bed to eat them hungrily.

“Thank you,” Esther said, watching her son fondly. “He was just saying he was hungry a few minutes ago.”

“Was not!” John interjected, pieces of chips spewing out of his mouth as he did so, but was ignored.

“It's nothing,” Noah told her. “...How are you feeling?”

“...Oh, fine, I suppose,” she answered, but he could tell that she was at least partially lying.

“If you need it, I can get you some medicine, I'm sure,” he said with a frown.

She shook her head quickly. “No, no! Nothing that serious, really. I'm just a little bit tired, that's all,” she said with a smile. He didn't try to return it. Sensing his discomfort, she quickly changed the subject. “You said Cynthia had to leave? That means you're in charge of the whole hospital. How does that feel?” she asked, still smiling.

“...It's okay, I guess. Not amazing,” he answered with a shrug.

“Oh? Most people love being in a position of power. What's wrong?” she questioned, hoping to get to the bottom of it.

“Well...” Noah trailed off. Was it right to dump his considerably insignificant problem on a patient? She had asked, he reminded himself, and she also might be able to help him figure out what to do. “Lisa and the attempted suicide patient, Darcy, both asked me if it would be okay to let the patients watch the ball drop on the TV at the nurses' station. At first I thought it was a bad idea, but now I don't know.”

Esther smiled understandingly. “I see. You're not sure it would be in the best interest of the patients to move everyone in there?” He nodded. “Well, would you like my advice?”

“I wouldn't be opposed to hearing it,” he said.

“Why don't you just ask everyone whether they want to watch the ball drop? If they don't, that's fine, and if they do, they should be able to,” she told him.

Noah turned over the simple plan in his mind. “That would probably be the best thing to do,” he admitted. If Mr. Johnson was any indication, people didn't like it when their fate wasn't in their own hands, even if it was in such a small way. “Out of curiosity, do you want to watch the ball drop?” he asked, somewhat sheepishly.

Esther's eyes twinkled. “I think it would be lovely,” she said with a grin.

Just then, someone knocked frantically on the door, and Lisa let herself in without waiting for an answer. “Dr. Robinson,” she began, looking shaken.

“What's wrong?” he asked sharply, wanting to know what was so bad that she couldn't have waited for him to get out.

“There's...there's a man here,” she told him. “His arm's really hurt, and he needs help, but...”

Noah suppressed a sigh and, with a quick glance at Esther, left the room. He walked down the hallway and found a strange man sitting in one of the chairs at the nurses' station. The man looked up as he entered and waved with his good arm.

“Hello,” he said, unsmiling.

Noah nodded. “Come with me,” he said.

By the time Noah had finished stitching and bandaging the man's arm, he was more than a little bit suspicious. He hadn't said a word besides telling his first name--”Reed”--and wouldn't say what had happened to get himself injured. This combined with the fact that his look and circumstances in themselves were suspicious meant that Noah was anxious to get him out of the hospital and back on his way to wherever it was he was going. Thankfully, Reed seemed to be thinking along the same lines of thought.

“Can I go now?” he asked once Noah had started cleaning up.

“There's nothing you need to say here for, anyway,” the doctor told him. “Your arm will be fine; you'll need to go to a hospital and have the stitches removed in a few weeks, but there's no reason for you to stay here.”

“...You're really going to let him leave?” Lisa asked cautiously from the doorway. Both men turned to look at her.

“Why wouldn't I?” Noah asked.

“Well... It's the middle of the night on new years eve,” she pointed out. “Wouldn't it be best if we just let him stay here for the rest of the night?”

Noah frowned. He really didn't want the man here for the night, but he was required to let him stay if he wanted to. He turned to the man. “Well?”

Reed thought it over for a few moments. “I guess that couldn't hurt,” he finally said.

Lisa smiled. “I'll get a room ready for you, then,” she said, and quickly left the room.

Noah paused to look over the man again. Maybe he was overreacting, he thought. Just being paranoid. “If you need anything just find me or Lisa,” he said, putting his instruments back in a drawer.

The man nodded. “I'll do that.”

Noah walked to the door, then stopped. After a moment's deliberation, he turned. “Also, some of the patients will be watching the ball drop at midnight, if you'd like to join us,” he said, then left.

Half an hour later, Esther, Darcy, and Lisa were sitting on office chairs in the nurses' station, half talking and half watching the TV, waiting for the program to start. They all looked very relaxed, Noah noted as he walked by, and sincerely wished he could say the same for himself. He was having to deal with getting the other patients, Mr. Johnson and Lenny, out of their rooms safely. This wouldn't have been such a big deal if John hadn't been following him around everywhere, touching everything he could get his hands on and claiming to be disguised as a French chef, complete with the horrible accent.

Finally having gotten Mr. Johnson into a wheelchair, he pushed the old man out into the hallway and positioned him next to Esther, where he could see the TV well enough. Esther smiled as they approached.

“Do you think Mr. Reed will be coming?” she asked.

Noah shrugged. “I invited him, but I don't know if he will or not.”

Esther's eyes sparkled. “Really? I'm proud of you! I didn't think you'd like him,” she said smugly.

“I don't like him,” Noah said. “But, I sort of didn't have a choice.”

“Oh, come on,” the woman said, still smiling. “He didn't seem so bad. I had a little chat with him earlier. He seemed like a real honest-to-goodness guy.”

Noah arched an eyebrow. “When did you talk to him” he asked.

“About fifteen minutes ago, John was playing outside my room and ran into him, so he brought him inside,” she said.

Noah sighed. That child would probably talk to a serial killer without a second thought. “Well, I'm glad you like him,” he said. “I'll be back in a minute; I've gotta get Lenny out of bed. Hopefully he won't hurt himself on the way.”

“Have fun,” Esther said with a knowing smile.

Not bothering to knock this time, Noah opened the door to the intoxicated patient's room and went inside. He found the man, silverware in hand, 'flying' them through the air in front of his head and making plane noises.

“Hello, Lenny,” he said, snapping the man out of his fantasizing.

“Meatloaf,” he reminded with a big grin.

“Right, right, Meatloaf. Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it, Bob!”

Noah ignored him. “Do you know what time it is, Meatloaf?” he asked.

“A quarter to blurred pixels?” Lenny took a stab in the dark.

“No, it's 11:25 on new years eve,” the doctor said. “The rest of the patients are going to be watching the news at midnight. If you're done making curious hand gestures, would you like to join them?”

“That sounds fun!” Lenny nodded.

After a couple of minutes of difficulty, Noah was able to get the intoxicated patient into a chair at the nurses' station without him falling and hurting himself, so he regarded that as a small victory. Now that everyone was there—everyone that he needed to help, anyway—he was able to join the rest of the patients, taking a seat between Esther and Lisa. Before he took the time to try to figure out what they were talking about, a figure at the end of the hallway caught his eye, and he watched as Reed waked in and sat down next to Mr. Johnson.

Esther greeted him with a smile. “I'm so glad you decided to join us, Reed!” she said. The man merely nodded, but she didn't seem to mind his lack of reply. She returned to her original conversation and left Reed to himself.

“You know, this is kind of cool,” Lisa said after a few minutes, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. “Just, everyone together to watch TV. It's...awesome-possum-sauce.”

At least three heads turned to stare at her strangely. “...what?” Noah asked after a moment.

The girl blushed intensely. “Um... I'm sorry, I was just... I thought it was slang, that's all...” she said sheepishly, staring at the ground.

After a few long seconds ticked by, something unexpected happened. Darcy, who Noah hadn't even seen smile once, began to giggle. The others in the room couldn't help but smile with her.

“So, was it really so bad, Noah? Taking care of all of us by yourself?” Esther asked, smiling.

Noah paused before answering. “I guess not. It's not something I want to make a habit of, though.” It really hadn't been too bad, on reflection. Of course, if there had been a couple more patients he probably would have had a much harder time.

“Does anyone know where I can get some good moose meat?” Lenny asked suddenly.

John laughed. “Moose meat? That's gross!”

“What? Everyone eats moose meat on new years eve!” the intoxicated man laughed.

“The Canadians might,” Mr. Johnson pointed out, deciding to join the conversation. “But you're not Canadian, are you, Lenny?”

“No, I'm not. I'm Tibetan! And anyway, my name is meatloaf,” the man said for the third time that night.

John grinned. “Hey! My name is Hannibal, but people think it's John! We should be friends,” he said.

“Sshhhh, everyone, it's about to start,” Esther said, quieting everyone and directing all attention to the TV.

“And now, the time you've all been waiting for! It's one minute from midnight! The countdown is running, and here in Times Square excitement is mounting!”

All eyes were glued to the same spot as the red digits counted down from 60. Each person was lost in his or her own thoughts, but they were all somewhat similar. They thought about how their lives were going, what they had been through in the previous year, and what was happening next. Some were significantly more cheerful than others, but they all felt oddly close, if only for that one minute.

“Twenty seconds!”

Noah looked at the faces around him, wondering if he was happy for just a moment. He decided he probably was. He wasn't alone, after all. What else could someone ask for?

“Ten!”

All of a sudden tension started to be released as half the people in the room counted down with the people on the TV.

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

The hospital was oddly quiet the second the clock struck midnight, with the most noise coming from the TV. There were smiles all around, however, as the oddly mismatched patients greeted the new year together. Noah was silent for quite some time, before Esther was able to catch his eye.

“Happy new year,” she said with a big smile.

After a pause, he smiled back. “Happy new year.”