The hospital's interior was starkly clean, unnaturally so under the harsh electric lights that still felt terrible foreign to Combeferre. He understood now the importance, of course, having read about germ theory and the like, though he still marveled at how the staff ever managed it. Medicine was messy business. And that messy, human, business happened here, in a building made of glass, and metal, and tile, that seemed the furthest thing from the living and the breathing?

Here was one more thing he would have to get used to, then.

But at least he had a guide. Tearing his gaze from the walls and ceilings, Combeferre smiled as turned his attention back to Sybil and she pinned the badge to his shirt. If she had been lovely before, now she was radiant. "Yes, certainly. That sounds wonderful."