In Which Family Ties Run Deeper Than Vague Social Snobbery And Joe Eavesdrops
Nick's a jerk anyway, and the phrase 'hero-worship' implies that the admiration is irrational and what the hell is irrational about it? Gerard came out of nowhere and helped Joe stitch someone's back closed. Can Nick bind peoples' skin together? Didn't think so.
And for the past few days now, Gerad's been coming over to Joe's building and knocking at his door and taking him out to see sick people, and then showing Joe how to fix them, like he's a doctor or something, instead of just some kid that's got steady hands and isn't bothered by blood. And, well, that's been wonderful, one of the best thing that's happened to Joe, but he knows better than to count on it.
He thought he did, anyway, but the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach feels oddly like disappointment as Joe sits near the door, nearly half an hour after Gerard usually comes.
"He's late," Nick observes, sounding surprisingly sympathetic.
"He never promised to come, anyway," Joe replies, absently, gazing into space, but of course that's when the knock comes, and Gerard's at the door, apologizing for his lateness and looking even more bewildered and scattered than usual.
"I have to go uptown today," he announces, and Joe nods, asks, tentatively, "Will I see you tomorrow, then?"
Gerard blinks at him, says, "Joe, my boy, if you ever want to become a respected practitioner of the medical profession, you must be prepared to deal with all kinds. Even ladies and gentlemen of the town. There are times when you can't avoid it."
It takes Joe a minute to respond, to wade through the twisting miasma of the last sentences, trying to figure out first who Gerard was talking about and then why.
"You want me to go with you to one of the great houses? Because you think I'm going to be a doctor?"
"Also because I'd really rather not go by myself," Gerard admits, but Joe's still too stuck on the 'he thinks I could be a doctor!' idea to laugh at him as he should.
A thought hits him, and he looks up at Gerard. "How nice of a place is this, really? I don't have anything else to wear, you know."
Gerard laughs, shakes his head, and for a moment Joe thinks, 'maybe this is actually going to be fun'.
Joe wasn't born on the streets, he knows there are nicer places out there, he knows there are better ways of living, there are manners and social niceties, and it's possible that when he was young he was even fluent in them, but when he walks into the building Gerard leads him to (he refuses to call it a house--nothing that massive should be called a house), the last thing he wants to do is hand over his grubby jacket to the footman.
Gerard hands over his coat without a second thought, and Joe realizes, of course, that's just what happens when you're a guest, and it's not like anyone in a place like this would want anything to do with some scabby street kid's threadbare jacket.
In fact, they really really don't want anything to do with it, if the footman's disgusted expression as he takes Joe's coat away gingerly is any indicator, and Joe starts to worry again because it may be nearly a rag, but it's his warmest thing, and the last thing he needs is for some uppity servant to incinerate it.
Gerard's already walking up the curving staircase, though, and god, do they even polish the bannisters here? Nothing's that shiny by accident, and Gerard wants Joe to be a doctor, and when he's a doctor it won't matter if he loses the stupid coat, so he follows Gerard up the stairs.
At the doorway to the opulent bedroom, Gerard stops. There are two men in the room, and Gerard addresses the one standing by the window.
"Pete Wentz? Wentz was your emergency, Mikey?"
The man in the bed smiled winningly at Gerard. Joe could have told him that Gerard was not to be won over so easily. "You know how I feel about doctors, Gee, but Mikey here convinced me that if it was you, since we practically grew up together, it wouldn't be like seeing a doctor at all!" And again with the winning smile.
Gerard didn't say a word, and finally the silent man by the window spoke up.
"I figured that since you're pretty much operating at a loss down there in the sewers, and don't even lie, Gee, I know you're buying people their medicine for them and then only accepting what they have to spare as pay which is usually, let me guess, oh, nothing, I figured you might like a paying customer now and then."
To Joe's surprise, Gerard actually laughed, and then beckoned Joe forward.
"This, my young friend, is what we in the business like to call 'tending to a wealthy hypochondriac's whims."
Joe's not entirely sure what that means, but Gerard seems pretty pleased with himself, and the stern man by the window is giggling silently, so he smiles and steps forward.
"Now, remember how I showed you how to run a general checkup on Tuesday?"
...
Joe may be among friends, he certainly feels like he is, but he wouldn't have learned anything about survival if he didn't know to keep an ear out, which is why he's crouched around the corner from where Gerard and the man who is apparently his brother are having a conversation.
"...don't care how much of a good joke this seems like to you, you can get someone else to prescribe Wentz placebos. Better yet, he can do it himself, and you can come stay with me for a while, Mikes. Meet some real people."
"Like the urchin you brought with you today?"
"I'll thank you to be a bit more polite about my apprentice."
"Your what? Gerard, the kid's probably illiterate, you're not seriously going to try to get him a medical licence are you?"
Joe thinks guiltily of the ease with which the alphabet he'd been painstakingly learning before his family fell apart had completely melted from his mind when they started living on the street.
"He's smart, he's quick, he's got steady hands and he does what has to be done, which is more than I can say for most of the brats coming out of the academy. If literacy's an issue, we'll deal with it later."
Joe sat in his hiding spot, blushing at the praise.
"You're really serious, aren't you? No, don't answer that. You always are. Anyway, you remember where we keep the outgrown clothes. Grab the kid a jacket on the way out, won't you? Peterson says the thing he came in with couldn't keep you warm if you set it on fire."
"Mikey Way. I knew you had a heart."
...
They walk out, and Joe's still marveling at the new jacket--the thickness of the fabric, the pockets, and the fact that it had all its buttons, when Gerard asks him, "So, how much did you hear?"
Joe grins up at him cheekily. "So I'm your apprentice, am I?"