Dottore, Doctor

An ordinary cloudy, damp and smelly day, slush, dampness, grey clouds.
1990.
In those years, drugs... were like something unforbidden. No one could take them just for the high; everyone became addicted and went up in flames, one after another.
Dottore was a doctor and scientist, and at the time, his work was littered with the corpses of stinking alcoholics who had died of overdoses. His task was to understand what kind of drug was in the blood and how it was taken, even at the time of death.
Dottore was the best doctor, so he was heavily loaded with work with corpses so that he alone would not go crazy, he was assigned an assistant
-Pantalone - he wasn't really involved in that, rather he wrote all the necessary reports and provided the various devices that the doctor needed.
Pantalone was shy, afraid to say something wrong or unnecessary.
Dottore, surprisingly, treated the pantaloon very kindly, never spoke to him rudely even when the pantaloon did not understand something.
That day, the shift was busier than all the others. They'd have to look at the bodies as soon as it got dark in the evening, and it's winter now, so it gets dark very quickly, and all night long.
The morgue at the unfamiliar hospital was rather dimly lit. The next shift would be in an unfamiliar place, since transporting corpses to the hospital where they worked was time-consuming and costly.
Pantalone and Dottore met in the dim light of the corridor