"We live at home; quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us."

Lake Michigan was glistening underneath the rising sun. Colours broke through the grey winter clouds and reflected from the water, casting off the most breath-taking of sights. Small waves lapped against the shore where a most striking house stood upon stilts right above the surface so it appeared to float. Though its design was highly modernised, it blended in flawlessly to its surroundings. The trees of the forest barely touched upon it but stood around as if protecting it from the harsh reality that was only a few miles away.

Their branches hung over the lake's edge, dropping their golden leaves to rest upon the surface. The wind gently picked up the leaves and blew so the blend of colours brushed across the glassy walls of the house.

A man stood in the centre of the house, peering through its walls at the scenery around him. He was perfectly still, barely even blinking, as he became lost within his thoughts. This place was a small place of paradise… and now he was leaving it. He had barely been at the lake house for a few months and yet… it felt like home.

Something fluffy brushed against his leg, causing him to snap back to the present and smile sadly at the large cat entangling around him. He knelt down and stroked the top of its head. "All right, I'm coming…" he whispered.

The large cat purred in delight and watched its master pick up the remaining bag. "Come alone, Al. I wouldn't want to leave you behind."

Arthur walked over to the door and was halfway down the jetty when he realised Al wasn't with him. He turned around and sighed. "Al, I won't tell you again. Look, I'll stop by a shop before hitting the motorway and get you a fish. Deal?"

Al rested upon its paws. Its eyes were large and almost pleading with him no to go. But with the promise of food, the Maine Coon struggled up and followed after. Arthur smiled weakly. It was one of the things he loved about Al – the cat was highly expressive and easy to read. He did prefer dogs, having grown up with them as a child, but he couldn't bear to leave Al alone when he arrived in his care so kept him.

They walked along the jetty, Arthur moving beside the painted paw-prints from habit. He opened the car door and waited as Al wiggled his rear end before pouncing up onto the car-seat. The cat leapt onto the passenger side before Arthur sat down on it.

In the car, the cat placed its paws on the window like a dog and peered out. Arthur took a deep breath and the car groaned to life. It barely moved a metre when Arthur slammed on the brakes. Al instantly flopped off the seat and landed upon its back in the leg room.

"Sorry," Arthur muttered. He snatched up the envelope he rested on the dashboard earlier and left the car to rush over to the mailbox. Good thing he placed it in his car when he did or he would have forgotten all about it. He placed the letter inside and raised the flag up. Giving the house one last look, he got back into his car and drove off onto the main road.

"You couldn't have waited five minutes, could you? Just five minutes! I knew I shouldn't have gotten you that fish. Don't give me those eyes! I didn't fall for them then and I won't now! I hope you're happy. Now I'll have to take train to work until the smell of cat sick has faded!"

Al's ears drooped with his tail. Arthur took no notice and slammed the car door closed. He had spent several hours on the road and wanted nothing more than to move in the last of his stuff and collapse upon the bed until morning. The car ride was no pleasant. Sure, he was use to Al being restless and rolling around in the back seat but it was the change that slapped him hard in the face. The nature had fallen behind and the Chicago skyline descended upon him soon after.

He didn't like it. The crowds, the traffic, the noise – all were creeping up on him and made him cringe so it was with great relief that he finally arrived outside the flats – or apartments as he was frequently told by the Americans.

Gazing up at the cold empty block with its many windows, he had never felt so distant. Back in England, the buildings were old and had great character but, in America, they were new and held no soul to them. It was very different here. There wasn't even a sign of nature for him to compare to the lake house scenery. At least back at the lake he could pretend he was in England and feel at ease with the world.

His mood crushed, he began to unload the last of his belongings.

The exhaustion from moving to a different place and the extra hours he spent cleaning to distract caused Arthur slept heavily during the night. When morning came, he was supporting a headache. The busy streets and station of the city didn't help. And neither did the cramp conditions in the hospital.

Arthur took a deep breath when he finally step – shoved – out of the lift. It was like playing a game of sardines without any enjoyment. He stood to the side, letting people walk past. Arthur had no idea where to go. It was difficult to see the signs through the crowds and he wasn't exactly tall – not compared to the people surrounding him. The best course of action would be to follow the big crowd, he decided. Fortunately for him, the crowd walked pass the reception desk.

He was surprised. Though it was heavily crowded, the staff members seem to be able to juggle their numerous tasks without missing a beat. He had never seen such order performed in or out of a hospital before. Anything thing, Arthur noticed, was how impossibly clean it was. There was no rubbish and not even a smudge on the walls. It was almost intimidating but a highly welcoming sight.

He stood back, waiting for the best chance to interrupt. He walked up gradually and coughed to get attention. Nothing. He coughed again. Still nothing. "Err…. Excuse me?"

The attendant didn't even look up from the computer. She reached out to her side and picked up a clipboard. "Fill this out and wait over there."

"Sorry, there must be a mistake here. I'm Doctor Kirkland – the new resident. They told me to report here."

Now he had her attention. She dropped the clipboard back on the desk and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Doctor. You need to find Dr Beilschmidt. He should be around here somewhere. You can't miss him. He's tall, muscular, and don't ever put a toe out of line around him."

Arthur soon discovered the root cause of the why the hospital ran the way it did. The one in charge, whose name he later discovered to be Ludwig, was someone who firmly believed in cleanliness and firm order. The moment they met, Ludwig had practically barked at him for being seven minutes late and gave him only a minute to change into his uniform.

So, with the less than warm greeting, Arthur's mood was slipping further and he was trying his best to disguise his scowling by reminding himself that he'll soon have a lunch break and can escape then. Until then, he had to memorise his timetable that Ludwig was currently speaking to him as they hurried down the corridor together.

"You're covering 22 patients on rounds today, this floor and the next," Ludwig explained as he passed over the stack of folders to the Briton. "If you get into trouble you can beep me, but don't make a habit of it! The med students are supposed to help you out with scout work. If you can find one. Lousy Italians brothers are probably sleeping somewhere again…."

22 patients? Arthur's head was spinning as he tried to shift the folders around in his arms so they didn't fall all over the floor. He barely caught them in time before bumping into Ludwig. Huffing in annoyance at the sudden halt, he side-stepped to see what the matter was.

"What's he doing here?" Ludwig asked, alerting a nearby nurse to a patient who was lying in bed in the side of the corridor. "I ordered an immediate MRI!"

"Transport said about four hours?"

Ludwig sighed in frustration and held his hand to his head as if trying to collect the remaining pieces of his non-existent patience – or so Arthur thought. The Briton smirked faintly as he pictured a ticking time-bomb ready to explode on the –

"Doctor Kirkland, push him down to MRI. That's a left, another left, a right, elevator to two, follow the signs. Then hustle back here for rounds!"

The doctor took the files off Arthur and left before questions could be asked.

"Bloody hell…" Arthur muttered under his breath, peering down at the elderly gentleman who was dozing off. "A left and a left and…. I'm going to be in deep shit and it's only been day one." He held onto the handles and steered the bed down along the busy hallway. Remembering his professional manners, he forced a weak smile. "How are you feeling today, sir?"

The elderly man opened his eyes and gazed over to the doctor. "Am I going to make it?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Err….. Yes. Certainly."

Within an hour, Arthur was hopelessly lost. He had the charts in his hands and he knew where he was meant to be – but getting there was proving tougher than he thought. The previous hospital he worked out was much smaller than this one and didn't have the needless twists and turns this one held. And Arthur was far too reserved in his nature to approach a stranger and ask for directions.

He tried doubling back on his steps, reading all the room names, and swearing. It was as if the room had vanished from the face of this earth just to mock him. Bloody bastard. Whoever was causing all this, he'll find them and –

"Wrong floor."

Arthur jumped and turned around. Standing in the doorway behind him was a smaller male with thick black hair. Acknowledging the fright he caused, the smaller man held his hands together and bowed his head. "I apologise for my sudden interruption. Please, allow me to help you. I am Honda Kiku."

"Oh…. Hi… I'm Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland…" Arthur said blandly, holding out his hand to shake Kiku's but Kiku didn't seem aware of it – or didn't wish to make contact. Arthur closed his fingers against his palm and withdrew his hand. "Nice to meet you, Honda?" Was everyone in this hospital of different nationalities? Kiku looked Asian but Arthur couldn't pinpoint which Eastern country.

Kiku smiled. "It takes a while to get your bearings. I will show you the way if you wish."

"Sure…." Arthur returned the smile weakly. "I'll appreciate it."

It was probably the toughest day he had ever worked in his life. While Kiku was pleasant enough, he was even more reserved than what Arthur was and neither of the two attempted to make much conversation during their lunch break. Arthur decided it was best to avoid Ludwig when he could since the next time he saw him, the German was yelling himself hoarse at a couple of med students who turned out to have caused a scene in the morgue.

He didn't see any of them again until the end of his shift. All were in the locker room, hanging up their uniforms and discussing their plans for the night. Arthur tried to keep as quiet as he could but one of the med students from earlier spotted him trying to sneak pass.

"Hey! It's the new guy!"

The student almost appeared to float over to Arthur with a huge ridiculous smile on his face. "Why don't you join us, si? We can celebrate! We have fine Italian wine!"

"Err… thank you but no," Arthur said as politely as he backed away. "I'm very tired and…. I need to finish unpacking…" His excuses were feeble but it was enough to have the two doctors acknowledge his words and Ludwig pulled the clingy Italian back.

"How was your first night?" Kiku asked in a calm voice.

"I'll… adjust," Arthur replied, deciding it was best to keep his thoughts in his mind where they belonged. He didn't want to get such a bad reputation so early on into his career. "It's difficult moving from a small community hospital to something this size."

Ludwig clamped a hand onto Arthur's shoulder. "I just want you to know that we appreciate your work today," he said solemnly. "I have enjoyed having you here and will look forward to what you have to offer."

Maybe Doctor Beilschmidt wasn't as bad as first thought? Arthur just nodded. "I best head off now. I need to feed the cat…"

"Chao! Next time then!"

Arthur had barely opened the door to his flat when something leapt upon him in the dark. He yelped and fell back against the wall. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was a crook but the rough tongue on his cheek confirmed it wasn't. "Al! I told you a hundred – never mind…." He picked up the Maine Coon and held it up in his arms. "I told you about that. One day, I'll crack my head open and die. Who will feed you then? Huh?"

Al didn't seem to mind the thought. When Arthur placed him down, the cat ran around like a little pup – only to run head long into one of the many boxes Arthur still had lying around. Arthur shook his head and turned on the switch beside him.

Lights flickered, briefing displaying the dull emptiness of the small flat. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Need light bulbs…" he said aloud with only the cat acknowledging him. Al purred and lingered by the kitchen doorway. "Hungry? Honestly… I spoil you. You know that and take advantage… Little shit."

Al only darted around excitedly, dashing straight to the counter when Arthur finally dropped off his bag and walked over.

The kitchen only had the essentials. A small car could only take so much. So when he opened the cupboard, he wasn't surprised to see it was almost bare. He almost slammed it closed after taking out the tin of cat food he found inside. He opened it and tipped the entire contents into the bowl – much to Al's delight.

"Need cat food…" he yawned, dropping the tin into the bin. "Need bin bags…" He looked through the other cupboards. "… Need human food." Wonderful. He'll have to make a list and find some time during his busy schedule to fit in shopping and repairs.

Arthur was dead on his feet when he finally stepped into his bedroom. Despite his attempts to make it look personal and warm, the bland wall and tiny window made it feel more like prison cell. His foot pressed against the wooden floorboard that creaked out loudly.

"Fix loose floorboard…" he said in a worn out voice. He reached out to close the curtains but took the chance to look out at the sights he had neglected to see before. Laid out before him were the solid walls of other buildings with similar designs. He leant down and tilted his head up but couldn't even see much of the sky.

Completely defeated, he closed the curtains and curled up in bed.