Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Persistence is definitely one of Dr Robby’s strong points, Dennis decides, as the door to the roof swings open sharply behind him.

He’s been stuck here as a patient, not half dead but much less than alive, for a couple of weeks now. Most of it had been blurry, but clarity had returned around a week ago.

He’s been going stir crazy since.

Barely able to do anything through recovery, except hear stories from his colleagues about the crazy patients they’d dealt with.

Eventually, he’d told Robby that if he didn’t get out of the room, he’d throw himself out of the window. Dennis had even gone as far as to stand shaking beside the window, just in case they thought he was kidding.

There must have been something close to begging in his eyes, because Robby had taken him up to the roof, claiming it was an easier option than the alarmed windows.

It was easier up there, more air to breathe. Dennis could almost pretend that he wasn’t in hospital as a patient at all. Instead, he was just a med student taking a break.

Robby had never left him alone up there, but he’d hung back, leaving space between them.

A new, sickly sort of tension had grown between Dennis and his little group of people. He’d apologised for his outburst the day after he’d heard them talking about him, and everyone carried on like they’d never known Dennis had been restrained at some point in his life. They’d probably started making connections, theorising about his trauma. He’d have to tell them eventually, before something happened that sent him truly into the loony bin.

It had already been pretty close.

He’s got to stop spending time on bathroom floors.

Robby hasn’t asked him outright. Not like Trinity had, where she’d asked him why he had no listed medical proxy or next of kin, and pretended that his line about not being close with his parents was anywhere near enough information.

No, Robby had gone for casual questions, trying to get Dennis to slip up.

First it was an offhand reference to siblings, leading to asking Dennis if he had any back at home.

He’s never really been sure how to answer that one. Do you still say four if one of them is gone? Are you still the youngest if you’re older than your older brother had ever been?

“The whole deal was that someone came up here with you, since you’ve only recently been able to walk unassisted.” The voice makes him jump a little. Dennis had forgotten that someone was behind him.

He turns his head, acknowledging Robby next to him, before looking down at the ground below him.

“I feel like I could probably land on top of an ambulance if I tried hard enough.” Dennis tries. Sometimes, his humour comes off as more genuine than joke. It seems to concern a lot of people.

Robby hums, peering slightly further over the edge. “You’d have to make a pretty long jump to cover the distance. You got the power back in your legs yet?”

Dennis smiles. “Wasn’t much of an athletics club in my town. I did a lot of running though.”

He hopes that Robby appreciates the tiniest crumbs of information he gives him. Trust isn’t easy for someone like him.

“If you take a running start, you might just make it.” The doctor replies, soundly gravely serious to anyone but those who know him. He looks back over his shoulder.

“Time to head in, your adoring fans will be waiting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His first day back starts thankfully uneventful. Chest pains, chickenpox, and a swallowed coin take up Dennis’ morning, and he’s soon back into the rhythm of things.

Then there’s a school bus crash that takes up most of the ER, panicked parents trying to reach their teenagers all congregated in the waiting room. Most of the kids are fine, just a few bumps and breaks, and a cracked phone screen or two.

Three kids that sat in the front of the bus, and the driver are all a little worse off. The driver had swerved to avoid a broken down car stuck in the road, causing the bus to overturn and slide straight into a tree. The kids had managed to get out of the back of the bus, but the driver and three boys had been caught in twisted metal and broken glass.

“Whitaker, with me.” Robby calls, as a teenage boy is wheeled in. He’s shock still and silent, eyes darting around like he’s afraid to be seen. Dennis reaches the side of the bed, helping transfer the boy over.

“Hey, I’m Dr Whitaker, and this is Dr Robby.” He starts, shining a penlight in the kids' eyes. “Can you tell me your name?”

The boy blinks, once, twice, before locking eyes onto Dennis. “Micah.” He murmurs. Dennis smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring to the kid.

He glances down at Micah’s leg, where trousers have been cut off to expose thick shards of glass embedded in his thigh. Unfortunate placement, Dennis thinks, and he swears Robby must be able to hear his thoughts, as he hums in agreement. The blood bubbling around the glass indicates that the femoral artery has been knicked.

“Okay Micah,” Dr Robby starts, “Dr Whitaker is gonna get that glass secured and then we are gonna leave you in the capable hands of the surgeons.” Dennis begins packing gauze around the glass, careful not to let it move. The kid is tense beneath his hands, and he wonders whether it’s pain or fear.

“You got a last name so I can call your parents Micah?” Dennis asks as he finishes up. With any luck, he’ll be in and out of surgery in a flash and ready to go home.

“Can I talk to my brothers first please?” Is what Micah answers instead. “Elliott and Levi. They were sat by me on the bus. I have to talk to them first.” He sounds desperate, and a little terrified underneath. Dr Robby smiles at Micah, and turns to drag Dennis into the corner of the room.

“Go find his brothers, see if you can get a surname from one of them. Maybe a story too?” Dennis nods, throwing his gloves in the bin as he exits the room.

“Dana,” he calls as he crosses to the nurses station. “You got a Levi or Elliott come in with the bus crash?” Dana grabs his hand, squirting sanitiser into it as he glances around.

“Dr Langdon has Levi in south 12, Elliot is next door with Dr Mohan. You need something from them?”

“My patient, Micah, is their brother. He won’t give us his parents info until he’s seen them and he needs to be in surgery as soon as.” He sighs, rubbing his hands together.

Dana leans back in her chair, assessing. “Want me to get Kiara down? It sounds like it could turn into something.”

“Yeah,” Dennis nods as he pushes off the desk, “I don’t know what it is, but something is off about this kid.” Dana picks up the phone as he heads into south 12.

“Dr Langdon?” He asks, pulling the curtain back. He’s stood at the side of the bed, watching over Victoria as she plucks tiny slivers of glass from a black and blue arm that is clearly broken. The kid attached to the arm has his hand over his eyes, looking very pale, but Dennis can still see that Levi seems to be identical to Micah.

“Keep going Javadi.” Frank says, heading towards Dennis now outside. “What’s up Whitaker?”

“I’ve got Levi’s brother waiting to go up to surgery, but he won’t give us his surname or parents name until he sees his brothers.” Frank hums, glancing over Dennis’ shoulder into the next room, where Dana had told him Elliott was.

“Yeah, my kid had to be ripped away from Samira’s patient, really freaked out. Wouldn’t even give me his first name.” He looks back to Dennis, narrowing his eyes. “You think these boys are hiding something?”

“I think they don’t want their parents here for some reason. Maybe abuse?” Dennis crosses his arms. He really hopes he’s wrong.

“Go talk to Samira’s kid, I’ll see if I can get anything out of mine. How long until your guy needs to be in surgery?” Frank asks, pulling open the door.

“He’s got glass sitting in his femoral artery.” Dennis answers. Frank blows out a breath.

“Let’s work fast then.”

Dennis pushes into Samira’s room next. He can hear her soothing Elliott, who seems to be calmer than hysterical, but still not calm.

“Dr Mohan?” If she hears him through the crying, it’s by miracle alone. Mel is standing in the corner of the room, looking like she’d rather have her hands over her ears. Elliott is a mirror image of both of his brothers - triplets in the ER. Dennis spares a thought for their poor parents receiving this phone call, before stopping still at the end of the bed.

“Elliott,” he tries, “Micah is asking for you.” The kid only acknowledges Dennis’ presence once he hears Micah’s name, like he’s been waiting to hear it. Hitching sobs slow, and Samira takes a subtle deep breath of her own, before gesturing for Mel to approach now it seems safe.

“Micah?” He asks shakily, as Samira and Mel begin assessing him. “He’s okay?”

“He needs a minor surgery to fix his leg, but he won’t go until he sees you.” Dennis explains. “We need to call your parents too before he goes, have you got their number and names?”

Elliott nods tentatively. “I don’t have a phone but I know their number, Jenna & Matthew Graham.” He stops, shifting uncomfortably. “But don’t call them, please. What’s wrong with Micah’s leg?” Dennis jots the name into his notebook, half slipping out of the door. He’s finding these people and calling them.

“There’s glass stuck in a really important artery in his thigh. They’ll need to remove it surgically so that he doesn’t bleed out but don’t worry, they know what they’re doing.” He answers quickly, holding his notebook like a lifeline. Give the info to Dana, get Micah over here and then up to surgery, and then all is solved. Successful first day back.

“Wait!” Elliott shouts, just before Dennis is out of the room. His face has turned blank, one hand fiddling with the sheets on the bed. “Is Micah gonna need blood in surgery?” His tone is apprehensive, with a hint of reluctance.

“He might,” Dennis answers slowly, “but now we have his surname we can make sure he gets the right blood if he needs it.”

Something is wrong in a familiar way. Elliott shakes his head at Dennis’ words, as Frank appears behind him.

“We aren’t supposed to have blood.” Elliott states, looking straight into Dennis’ eyes. Dennis tilts his head, before realisation hits him.

“Oh,” he breathes, forcing himself to stay centred. “You’re Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

Chapter Text

Dennis had always been an overly curious child. He’d asked too many questions, had too many doubts, and did too many things that his mother had deemed unforgivable.

She’d turned her back on him before he could even tie his shoes.

It hadn’t mattered so much at the time. His brother Ethan, who was only two years older, had showed him how to make bunny ears out of the laces. Nathaniel and Tobias were in charge of taking him to school, and Caleb did pretty much everything else.

Their dad was out of the house constantly, only appearing for Sundays so they could pretend to be perfect. Their mom, he’d learnt young, was best avoided in private. She’d never lay a hand on her boys outside their house, but Caleb had never wanted Dennis near her once the door was shut and bolted.

Dennis had slipped up once, crawling into her bed when a thunderstorm had scared him awake. She’d been so cross with him for waking her up that she’d dragged him by the wrist through the house, out onto the back porch and left him there, chained to the railing like their old dog. Caleb had found him in the morning, half-blue and silent. He’d wrapped him up in his favourite green blanket, and tucked him into Ethan’s bed before quietly calling their father.

Apparently, he hadn’t spoken much for weeks afterwards, and flinched at every drop of rain. Their dad had told them that their mom was sick, but all Dennis had remembered was her grin as she locked the back door. He’d slept with one of his brothers every night for the rest of that year, and never went near his mother for comfort again after that.

When he was 7, his dad stopped coming home at all.

They’d sat at the dining room table, as their mom told them in no uncertain terms that their dad would die when they were all saved. Ethan cried, Nathaniel prayed, Tobias screamed, and Caleb had just rolled his eyes at her. When Dennis asked one of the elders, he’d told him the same thing, and Dennis had cried under his covers for the entire night.

Two weeks later, Caleb had apologised to Dennis out of the blue. Told him that he’d written anything he needed to know in a blue notebook under his floorboards. Tucked him into his bed with his green blanket and a tight squeeze to his shoulder.

Dennis dreamt of cows and sheep while Caleb shot himself in the barn.

Things changed after that.

His mother blamed him, took advantage of his brothers’ grief to turn them on him. Easier to accept when there was someone to blame. Ethan, Tobias, and Nathaniel were still young, desperately clinging to whoever was left besides each other.

Their mother was finally loving them, what else could they do but obey?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Whitaker? Are you gonna pass out again?” Frank’s voice snaps him back into reality

“Are you?” Elliott asks. Dennis stares at him, open mouthed. No words come to mind that he can say to a patient. He can hardly tell them to run far and fast.

“Can we talk to you please?” Elliott pleads. “With Micah before he goes?”

“Why?” The word unsticks itself from his tongue before he even realises.

“You’re a ex-witness right? You look sad enough to be one.” Oh. Got it in one, no desire to really unpack that.

“Yeah, just…yeah. We can…” he trails off, unsure how to start, to grasp the situation.

“Maybe,” Frank interrupts, “we should all mosey on over to Micah’s room since his leg is out of use, have a little quiet conversation?”

It feels like walking to his death, tracing the path back to Micah with two residents and two patients following behind him. Levi & Elliott are visibly relieved once they’re back with Micah, pressing as close to the bed as they safely can in their chairs. Micah clings to Elliott’s offered hand like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he lets go.

Classic trauma response. Dennis would know.

“Why is there a party in my patients room?” Robby asks, hands held up high as they all file in. Frank and Samira squash into a corner.

“They’re jehovah’s witnesses, Dr Robby.” Dennis explains. “I know a bit about them, and hospitals can be a bit awkward.”

“Oh,” Levi starts, “it’s not really about that. Just please don’t call our parents.”

“We’re running away,” Elliott blurts, “and if you got away, you’ve gotta tell us how you did it”.

Shock settles over the room. It’s rare that teenage runaways admit to being runaways, let alone ask the doctors for help.

“Dennis, don’t-“

“Dr Robby.” He cuts him off quietly, “please trust that I know enough here. I might be able to help.”

Robby waits for a moment, before stepping back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest

“How did you get out?” Levi asks, eyes on the door. Dennis feels cold, down to his bones. Like he’s been out in the rain.

No one was meant to know, but things had gone beyond his control. He ignores the confused looks of his colleagues, and continues.

“Uh, I was actually disfellowshipped. When I was, 15 or 16 I think? I don’t really remember.” He’s so so cold, he might be shaking. Is he shaking?

“My brothers, and my mom kind of went extreme. It was bad for a long time. My oldest brother who raised me wasn’t there, so it got really bad. I wasn’t allowed in the house, wasn’t allowed the food they ate.” It’s like being back there, recounting it all. Dennis aches all over.

Words keep spilling out of him, not even waiting for permission.

“They were so mad at me for every little thing. They only came to see me to take their anger out on me.” He can feel the tension in the room. Shock radiating from Langdon, anger from Robby.

“They went too far once, I got really sick from the wounds. Ended up in hospital with every elder I’d ever known around me. And my mother.” He takes a deep breath. He should be over it, but even the hazy memories are sharp enough to cut.

“She told them that she’d caught me with a boy and they disfellowshipped me there and then. No questions asked. I was barely even conscious. I was discharged pretty much onto the streets.”

It had been awful glee, being free but so unsure of where to go. He knew no one, nothing.

“Caleb, my brother who raised me, he’d hidden some money but it wasn’t a lot. Wasn’t enough to live on.” Dennis trails off.

“Where did you go, when you were out?” Elliott asks, leg bouncing endlessly.

“Whitaker,” Robby mumbles, “this is out of your territory. It’s time to call their parents.”

“No.” He answers without even meaning to. This situation is a snowball tumbling down a hill. It’s getting bigger than he can handle on his own.

Unfortunately, that’s never stopped Dennis before.

“Are you guys in trouble? Do you need help?” He can’t help himself. It’s not the best approach, he knows that, but he’s been there and he can do something.

Dennis can finally do something.

Except.

All three of the boys freeze. Look at each other. Look back at him. They shake their heads.

It breaks his heart to know that they’re lying.

“Kiara is calling the parents.” Samira informs Robby. He’s barely even noticed her leave the room, let alone re-enter.

“NO.” Four voices shout. One weaker than the others.

“Okay.” Robby attempts to retake control. “Mohan, get Micah up to the OR please, tell them no blood for religious reasons.” Samira nods, grabbing two nurses from outside to move Micah. He’s gone in under a minute.

“Frank, Levi needs an x-ray on that arm.” Frank moves over to Levi, who leans back into the wall as he approaches. Frank freezes, turns his head to glance at Robby.

“It’s just a picture of your bones, Levi. It’s safe. I promise.” Dennis soothes through the mental conversation of his colleagues. It settles the boys, but furthers the confusion of the others in the room. He gives what he hopes is another reassuring smile, pulling Frank and Robby out of the room with him.

“Some communities are super secluded from the outside world - no school, no internet, no hospitals. I bet they aren’t even students at the school the bus was heading too.” He explains in a low voice. Realisation dawns on their faces.

Dennis hadn’t really seen the inside of a hospital until he’d nearly died in one. Even through the haze of pain, he’d loved the idea of being in a building of people who just wanted to help others.

What other job could he have gone into really?

Robby thankfully takes Dennis at his word, which is relieving. Out of the three of them, only one of them could personally relate to these kids. Maybe in more ways than anyone knew.

“Anything else we need to know, Dr Whitaker?” He sounds genuine when he asks. Dennis winces, thinking back to the behaviour of the boys. He’s not 100%, but he’s sure enough.

“There’s a high percentage of child abuse in most organisations.” He starts. “Not always the parents, but always an adult with power. It never gets reported, or never goes anywhere if it is.” Dennis has truly caught their attention now. Frank looks as if he’s re-evaluating every interaction he’s had with his patient.

Robby looks frustrated. He looks over Dennis’ head, then glances back at him. Opens his mouth to speak.

“Robby.” Kiara calls from the nurses station. She’s holding the phone up to them. “I’ve got the Graham kid’s parents on the phone.”

Dennis doesn’t think. He runs.

Chapter Text

The phone is clattering out of Kiara’s hand before he even realises what he must have looked like.

He’d only gone to end the call, but running at someone tends to make them jump.

Kiara seems to have collected herself. Eyes fixed on Dennis like she’s solving a problem. His chest is heaving, like he’s ran a marathon instead of the short sprint from outside the room to the nurses station.

“You’re shaking, kid.” Dana murmurs, hand slowly closing around his wrist. She’s measuring his pulse, but there’s nothing medically wrong with him.

Just good old fashioned blind panic.

“Sorry,” he gasps, dragging his eyes up to find Kiara, “you can’t call their parents. Please.”

God, he really hopes that she listens to him. Even if she never does it again for the rest of his career. Just this time.

“Don’t call.” He begs, leaning heavily into the desk. Robby and Frank have made their way over, glancing at him with concern.

“They’re runaways Kiara,” Robby fills in as Dennis works to fill his lungs. “But Dennis is worried about domestic abuse at home.”

Kiara looks to him, bending slightly to meet his eyes as he raises his head.

“How sure are you, Dennis? Have they made a disclosure, is there evidence?” She asks. He shakes his head, knowing that without either she has to do the one thing he’s begging her not to.

“Please just don’t call them, call the police. I can talk to them, they’ll talk to me I swear.” He tries.

He knows that he’s failed by the pitying look on her face.

“Dennis, these boys are minors. I have to call their parents, especially if they’re running away.” Kiara tries to soothe, but it doesn’t work. He’s fluttery now, hardly catching a breath as she picks the phone up again.

“Please don’t, just let them leave. If you call their parents you’re killing them!” He pleads, fights with a desperation nobody else could truly understand.

“Dennis.” Kiara tries again, the same tone that’s actually really starting to piss him off more than placate him. “Unless there is evidence of abuse, or a disclosure made by one of the boys, there is nothing we can do.”

“Whitaker, kid, I think you need to step away from this.” Dr. Robby warns him.

They don’t understand. He doesn’t understand. Only four people in this ER understand and three of them are too young, too scared to even try to provide meaning.

“Oh fuck you, Dr Robinavitch. Don’t tell me that I need to step away from this. You need to step into this and listen to me.” Trinity would be so proud of how loud he is shouting. She would back him up 100% and help him save the three boys. Levi is standing outside the room now, Elliott still lingering inside the door. Dennis must have been louder than he thought.

“Their parents will pick them up, all smiley and sweet, and they will take them home and they will torture them over and over again until they have no choice but to comply or put a bullet through their heads!” Screaming now, throat raw and face hot. Everyone is pretending not to listen. They’re not doing well at pretending.

“Dennis, I know what you think-“

“No you don’t.” Deflated. “You really, honestly have no idea. Are you telling me, Dr Robinavitch, that you’re willing to bank three lives on what you think you know?” The quiet is so alarming, at least they’re hearing him now. Robby looks struck, shocked.

Good.

“I’ve already got one death on my conscience, I’m not adding three more.”

No one moves.

Kiara is holding the phone, but Dana’s finger is firmly pressed on the button that ends the call. Frank has placed himself behind Dennis, arms crossed over his chest like he’s daring anyone to go against them.

Robby looks around, glancing at Levi & Elliott huddled together, at Micah’s backpack protected between them. He runs a hand over his beard, tucks it back into his pocket, rocks back and forth on his feet.

“Doctor, sir?” Levi’s voice breaks the tension. Robby’s head turns to the boy, but Dennis is still locked onto the attending.

“I’ve got some cuts, on my back.” Levi continues, hesitant. “From, um, from our dad’s belt.”

Kiara puts the phone down with an almost relieved sigh. Robby glances back to Dennis, then strolls over to the room. He pulls up Levi’s shirt with permission, sucking in a breath at whatever he sees. Dennis remembers the ache.

“Langdon. Get these documented and treated asap. Kiara, call the police so we can get statements. Everyone else, back to your patients.” Bodies move at the orders of the chief attending.

“Kid,” Dana calls softly, “you did good.”

He shakes his head, glancing at his feet. Swallows finally, then again, and again. It doesn’t help.

Dennis is disappearing through the bathroom door faster than one of the rats that scurried around on his first day.

He stumbles into a stall, minorly aware of his boss one step behind him, knees hitting the ground as he throws up the protein bar and coffee he had less than an hour ago.

The hand nearing his back makes him flinch so hard that the walls of the cubicle rattle. Robby pulls it away lighting fast, stepping back for good measure. Distance is good.

“Whitaker, breathe kid. C’mon.” Robby tries. Dennis shakes his head, tears dripping into the vomit and mixing around.

He throws up again, violent retches making him shiver. A faint zipper sound. Robby’s jacket is gently placed, folded on the ground near him. It’s green. Dennis sobs.

“You can look.” His voice shakes. “My back. Doesn’t hurt anymore.” An explanation, an apology, Dennis isn’t sure what he’s offering here. He just hopes Robby takes it, and understands.

It takes a minute, then warm hands slowly lift the hem of his scrubs top. They’re brutal scars, all layered over each other. Healed now, but they carry a rawness that makes them feel brand new.

Every time he messes up, loses someone, they burn.

“Dennis.” It’s soft, an air of devastation. An apology all on its own.

“Not the childhood people think I had, I guess.” He grits out. Robby lets his top go, smooths it back down once. He grabs his jacket, drapes it over Dennis’ shoulders. Turns him so that they’re face to face.

“The one death, on your conscience.” It’s murmured, keeping the peace. “I’m guessing it wasn’t Milton.”

Dennis waits a minute. Pulls the jacket further around himself. “My brother, Caleb, shot himself when he was 17. I was 7 but they blamed it on me. Made my life hell.”

Robby’s head tilts back against the cubicle wall. He sighs deeply. “Why are you carrying it around Whitaker?”

“Are we really discussing the deaths that we carry, Dr Robinavitch?” It’s ever so slightly cruel, to imply whatever he’s implying. He’s still mad, sue him.

They sit a bit longer in silence. Dennis thinks that he should flush the toilet, brush his teeth, begin repenting. He shifts ever so slightly, and pulls the chain. It pops their bubble, but they can’t stay in the bathroom forever.

“You’re on a break.” Robby groans as he rises. He holds out a hand to Dennis, still curled on the floor in his boss’ jacket.

“Take your time. Take the rest of the shift. I promise I won’t let those boys go home.” An offering. I’m sorry and forgive me, all in one.

Dennis takes his hand.

Chapter Text

“There’s an initiation you have to go through if you want to be a part of our rooftop brooding crew, you know.”

Dennis sighs, his peace disturbed

“No joining until you’ve crashed out in front of all of your colleagues.” Hands hit the rail, and they creak. It should be a concerning sound, but Dennis doubts that the barrier will collapse under Abbot’s weight.

“Though, if the rumor mill is right, you may get exclusive membership.” He continues, eyes burning a hole in the side of Dennis’ head.

“I guess you heard about that then.” Dennis’ voice barely comes out, still raw from his screaming that has apparently become hospital gossip.

“Yeah kid, I did hear about that.” Jack answers. “I also heard that you aren’t meant to be up here on your own.”

Dennis bristles at that. They don’t trust him at all now? Is that what it is? He turns around fast, probably faster than he should for someone standing near the edge of a roof.

“I’m 26 years old, you know? I can look after myself, I don’t need to be treated like a scared little kid!” He’s shouting again, even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. He kind of just wants to nod and let someone do everything for him for a long while.

It doesn’t seem to faze Jack in the slightest.

“This isn’t me treating you like a child, this is me treating you like my friend. Which you are.” His voice is firm, unyielding. He waits a few more seconds, probably waiting for Dennis to respond.

He won’t. He’s out of energy. Tired and bored of the last few weeks of his life. He’d felt more stable being homeless than he does now, which is really saying something.

“Why are you hiding yourself from us all Dennis?” Jack is looking him right in the eye. Uncomfortable. Mainly because Dennis knows he’s a horrible liar and whatever comes out of his mouth next is going to be true.

“I don’t want Robby to look at me like I need looking after. Like I’m broken. Like he’s my father.”

Abbot’s face breaks. It tells him all he needs to know. Dennis seems to have nailed the issue on both sides without even meaning to.

God, he only came here for his ER rotation. How has he ended up here? All but adopted by his attendings and unreasonably cherished by senior staff. He’s never going to be allowed to leave.

“My dad wasn’t bad,” he starts, “he was kind, and honest.” He kind of wishes he was sitting down for this conversation. “He was a good dad, but he still let everything that happened to me happen. He didn’t try to stop any of it.”

“When I’m around Robby, it feels like I’m safe. I know that he couldn’t let somebody get hurt if he could help it. Then I get angry because it isn’t fair and I shout, and I get angry again because I hate shouting and he just lets me shout at him.”

Jack is still looking at him, like he’s a brand new person all of a sudden. He isn’t. This is always how he’s been.

Dennis turns back around. The sun has long gone down, but there’s no real chill in the air.

“Have you considered, Dennis, that maybe Robby doesn’t mind looking after you?” Dennis shakes his head, tears dripping down to his trainers.

“I’m just one of his students. It’s an obligation.” No one has ever wanted to keep Dennis safe. Not since he found his brother’s body. He’s not worth the hassle, the baggage is too heavy, name any excuse you want. He’s heard them all.

“Robby is not obligated to haunt the halls of the ICU for two weeks when one of his students is in there.” Jack states.

Oh. Dennis didn’t really recall that. He’d been woozy for most of that time, but he remembers seeing Robby and having an argument with him. Seems to be a habit of theirs now.

“He is also not obligated to freak out and cry when one of his students is sick and we don’t know why.” Okay, what the fuck? Dennis glances at Jack in disbelief.

“No word of a lie. He was vile trying to figure out why you were sick, scared more than a few nurses. Then he came up here and cried once you were stable enough.” Dennis buries his face in his hands, unable to hear anymore.

It’s only going to end badly, it always does.

“He knows I’m fucked up now though.” Dennis tries.

“Jeez, the doctors in this hospital could make a therapist enough money to buy an island.” It pulls a laugh out of Dennis that he doesn’t expect. It breaks the tension on the rooftop. Jack wraps a hand around Dennis’ arm, urging him over the barrier and away from the edge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They walk slowly to the door, unsure what to say to each other. It takes until they get back to the staff lounge, where Robby is sitting in the chair he stole from upstairs last week, for Jack to find his words.

“Robby,” he starts, loud and proud, “the kid is angry.”

There’s a half a second of silence that is far longer than it has any right to be.

“Oh I gathered that when he blew my head off a few hours ago.” The older man looks up at him. “But he’s been dealt a pretty crappy hand, so I guess we’ll forgive him.”

“I don’t think I really deserve that, Dr Robinavitch.” He can’t even look the older man in the eye. Talk about bringing your baggage to work with you.

Dennis has parked a fucking uhaul in the ambulance bay.

“I’m not an angry person, Dr Robinavitch.” He starts, slow and apprehensive. “But there’s a lot about the world that I found out in one go and it was very overwhelming.”

“And sometimes it hits you again, all at once.” Robby finishes the sentence for him. He’d never once been able to put it all into words, how it had felt stepping into a world that was so much better and so much worse than he’d thought it would be.

“It’s embarrassing to have to explain myself, and then I get defensive of myself which feels like I’m defending them. It all gets mixed up in my head and there’s no world where I want to defend any of them or what they did.”

The tears in his eyes are surely better than the shouting, but Dennis still wishes that they weren’t there at all. Horrendous amount of emotions showing themselves today.

“There’s been so much to deal with that I’ve never even really thought about it all properly, and I’m not sure I want to.” This seems to resonate with both of the men in the room. Don’t tell Dennis that he has the same amount of trauma in 26 years as these old men. He won’t cope.

“I think that’s reasonable, Whitaker.” Abbot starts. Not what he’d thought he’d say but affirming anyway. “I mean, you got shunned and left without any family. I’m guessing there was some housing insecurity for a long time plus getting into medical school and keeping up appearances.”

Don’t put it like that, Dennis thinks, it makes it sound actually bad. The last ten years of his life have been rough but there were definitely people worse off than him.

“Dennis, I don’t have any worldly advice for you because honestly I’ve never thought about what you’ve been through being a thing.” Robby looks embarrassed to even admit it. “I was ignorant, and I should have trusted you straight away when you said that you knew how to help.”

Oh, this is embarrassing now. How do you even respond to that?

“I didn’t really articulate myself very well in the situation.” Is the line he consciously chooses to go with.

“That’s probably because of the trauma buddy!” Jack chimes in, leaning on the counter behind him. Dennis smiles sadly, dropping into a chair.

They sit in comfortable quiet for a while, Dennis slowly slumping against the table. He’s about to drop off, testament to how crappy his day has been when he hears a whisper, close to his ear.

“The boys are safe now Dennis. You did really good.” A pause, and then, “I’m proud of you.”

Dennis slips into sleep with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did I win the bet?” Donnie scrambles up to Dana, where she holds the winnings high above heads.

“No, I had $20 on Whitaker succumbing to the Pitt.” Princess butts in, grabbing at the cash.

Perlah scoffs. “That kid is ingrained in this place now! I don’t think you’re ever going to win that one!”

“I had $20 on Whitaker causing a weird familial bond with an attending.” A voice cuts through. Mateo plucks the money out of Dana’s hand, catching her smile as she lets him. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I finished your recommendation if you want to read it, Dr Whitaker.” Robby places the envelope in front of where Dennis is seated, at Robby’s computer.

He grabs at the envelope desperately, careful not to rip the paper but eager to see what his attending has written about him.

“Dennis Whitaker has everything it takes to be an incredible emergency medicine doctor, including the audacity to tell his attending when he’s making the wrong call— Dr Robby! You can’t send them this!”