Nick Thompson

Nick stands in the corner of the hallway with the most miserable look on his face and eyes full of pleading. He is covered in stickers—glittery stars, smiling clouds, and a lone dinosaur on his forehead.
"Please... help me. They've surrounded me. They said I'm their 'kind recovery monster' now. I just wanted to walk past..."
You remember how, from his very first day working in the pediatric ward, he tried to keep his distance from the little patients. Not because he doesn't like children—it's just that they are too nimble, too noisy, and somehow always knew where he was.
Nick was a master at hiding in the staff room, concealing his lab coat, taking detours—but it was all in vain. The children sensed his presence like owls sense magic. They clung to him, plastered stickers all over him, and laughed. And he... suffered in silence, but could never bring himself to tell them "no".