I should lock the fuck in *half an hour passes* I should lock the fuck in *half an hour passes* I should lock the fuck in *half an hour passes* I should-
Men Of The Pitt when you have a medical emergency!!!
AN: had to cure the writers block somehow, not proofread
CW: some suggestive content, UTI, Sepsis, TBI, insinuation of female reader, broken arm, heart attacks, Epiliepsy and panic
The Men Of the Pitt When you show up in the ER (sick)
Michael Robinavich
You’d woken up far past the normal time when you’d drift into consciousness with Robby’s movements in the bed. The second you move to roll over, in attempts to detect any left over heat Robby may have left behind, you felt the deep throbbing ache of sickness in your bones. Your boyfriend was a doctor, logically you know that people get sick all of the time, hell you’re not even immune to it but this felt like something different.
You vaguely remember trying to get up and search for some sort of mediation to tame the fever wracking through your body, pain blooming in between your legs. You wake face down on the living room floor in a pool of your own drool, some sort of infection, it had to be and it was BAD.
You crawled over to the ancient landline that Robby had insisted the two of you keep in the new house, you were grateful for it now, you’d never tell him of course. You manage to press your back against the couch and dial 911. In the meantime, you’d manage to pass out, neck contorted uncomfortably with vomit all over your lap.
When Robby heard the descriptors from the paramedics, someone of exactly your age, height ect. He already got a bad feeling, when Frank grabbed his shoulder and told him it was you?
Michael has never ran faster in his whole life, when he got to you he noticed it immediately, an infection that started with a standard UTI, which you’d gotten after a midnight session in between flits of sleep where you’d forgotten to pee after, had snowballed and spread to your kidneys and was dangerously close to-
“Sepsis- it’s sepsis-” Robby spluttered out, his hand brushing through your hair, wet with sweat. The team nodded and immediately rushed into protocol. He felt so fucking stupid, he’d noticed how you’d been running warm throughout the night and despite knowing you had a UTI hadn’t thought that it as this bad.
They caught it early, really early.
IV antibiotics washed through your body, trying to push out the nasty infection. The lethargia hadn’t worn off yet, every time you woke up you were so confused over where you were and how you’d ended up in the hospital. A few days in you’d managed to make it out of the woods.
“Baby?” you rasped hand weaving into Robby’s hair, scratching softly in an attempt to wake up. He was slumped over, his forehead crinkled from the sheets.
“Fuck you’re awake- oh my god-” his lips latched to your forehead, down over your face, against your temples, then your lips. “You scared me so fucking bad- don’t ever do that again” he breathed you in, you smelt like sweat and hospital but he could still pick out the distinct undertone of you.
Once you got home Robby wasn’t able to take his eyes off you while you recovered, awake while you slept soundly, constantly checking your temperature, if you were breathing, if you were in any pain.
Anytime you kissed he did it as if it was your last, the thought of you having almost died on a random tuesday and your last kiss one have been a shitty peck on the lips while you were deliriously half awake, one you didn’t even remember. His hands gripped your hips, squeezing gently, asking you to touch him so that he could convince himself that you were here and really alive.
He immediately started looking for rings, he’d listen to Jack talk about how losing his wife had torn him to shreds, how much he would have regretted it for his entire life had he not proposed to her young and spent what little life she had together. He couldn't have coped with the idea that, if you had died you never could have married each other, travelled, had kids (something he didn’t even know if you guys wanted but the concept of having the decision stripped from you was something he couldn't bear to think about).
He never ever lets you fall asleep after sex, no matter how tired he would lift you and carry you to the bathroom. As he stood opposite to you, the back of his hips pressed against the sink smiling down at you.
“Glad we had the landline now aren’t you?” His hand came forward to hold your cheek. Even after almost dying, even while actively peeing…there was no place Robby would rather be than by your side.
Jack Abbott
Jack was well acquainted with the pain of losing the person he loved most. It’s why he was so careful and protective over you and your health. But he was also aware that he was in a glass house and was most definitely throwing rocks if not boulders. The reason he loved you was because he loved the thrill that came with you, but it wasn’t the wild nights or extreme activities that got you.
Jack had just left for work, and of course he’d once again forgotten to change that light bulb above the kitchen island that had been flickering for a whole week. Fed up with the faux rave taking place and setting off your migraines you decided to make a move against it. Climbing up onto your island and placing a stepping stool so you could reach the high ceilings that the light was hung from.
Your neighbour found you seconds after a loud scream and crash came from your apartment. A poor 60 year old woman in her nightie using the spare key you’d gotten her (for when she would cat-sit if the two of you worked long shifts) to get into the apartment.
The call to 911 was frantic as she held your head steady, unsure of just how you had fallen but the blood was all over the chic white marble. The ems had to isolate your spine and it was only in the ambulance that you managed to wake up.
“You fell from about 3 feet but you hit your head and arm badly on the way down okay? We’re gonna take you to PTMC” the paramedic explained as you tried to speak, nothing but grunts and groans escaping. Eyes falling shut once more.
Abbott was there to meet you at the door, he felt guilty that it took a split second for himself to recognise you with all the blood rolling down your face. “She’s got a forehead lac, about 10 cm where she hit her head on the counter- a swollen right wrist, complex fracture but no broken skin. She is alert but disoriented”
Shen took control of the case allowing Abbott to move fully into the concerned boyfriend mode. “The damn kitchen light- she’s been telling me to fix it all week and I- oh god” his fist clenched in his peppered curls as he watched them clean you up, in a disoriented daze until a weak, pathetic cry sounded out from you.
“Jackkkkkkk” you whimpered trying to move your head despite the c-spine, snapped back into reality by the sound of his voice. “What’s going on-“
Jack pushed through the crowd of doctors to grip your good hand tightly on his own. “You don’t remember hitting your head?” You made a small sound of agreement, Jack’s eyes flickering up to shen’s.
“We need a head CT and uh- bump her to first I’m concerned she could have pressure building-“
A few hours later your ego felt more bruised than most of your body. A traumatic brain injury, you’ve been concussed before but the impact was bad enough you had a skull fracture. It took a couple days for you to get discharged, the kitchen was clean, not only to your surprise but Abott’s as well.
“It was like this when I came home to grab some stuff for you after the accident. I guess nonni cleaned up…” Jack smiled, using his favourite nickname for your neighbour. “She fed Sushi and Shane while we were gone too” the cats affectionately weaved through your legs. You were unable to move, not only because the cats had claimed you but the whole room began to spin.
“Jackkk” you lowered yourself slightly as if you could recenter your balance. His hands moved to your thighs, doing his best to smoothly transition you into his arms like a koala, lips pressing to your cheek as he brought you to your big comfortable bed.
“You renovated…while I ...was gone…” Jack knew as a doctor you would struggle for the first few weeks before gradually getting better and better.
“Small things…” he smiled looking at how he’d switched out all the lightbulbs in the apartment to be softer, hand bars in the hallways and bathroom, little notes to remind you to do things like remember to turn off the oven and Don’t feed the cats again they’re trying to trick you. “I love you so much” his hands cupped your face avoiding the stitches, he leaned in the softness of his lips pillowed against your own, a deep relieved sigh filtering out of his body, worry that had been building up over the last few days.
“How much did it cost?” You mumbled with a small grin
“Don’t think too hard it’ll scramble your brain…” he smiled against your lips, they interlocked with yours again until he whispered “doctors orders.”
Dennis Whittaker
Dennis was perpetually stressed as of recently, the new job and environment was sending the poor farm boys nervous system haywire. After every shift he and Santos would come home and flop onto your couch, where you would be laid waiting for them, with dinner on the stove for them. It was a constant routine that the three of you had slipped into, only altered by Santos occasionally going to Yolanda's for a couple nights a week.
It was one such night when everything just felt wrong, the shift had been horrific, a pile up that brought in something like 15 trauma’s back to back. He had forgotten to charge his phone and couldn’t find a second to charge it in the bay.
You were at home, gripping your chest tight praying that your boyfriend would just pick up the goddamn phone to tell you whether you were just freaking yourself out or if there was genuine reason to go to the ER.
You’d woken up in the shower, with a stabbing pain in your chest which travelled down your left arm sending your whole body into panic mode. You ditched the “let’s be calm and not overreact" mode to switch into the “I’m definitely having an emergency I need help now” setting. The vomiting was an unwelcome guest, especially when you realised it was, for the most part, blood.
The call to 911 was quick, it couldn’t have been 5 minutes before they were barricaded through your door and getting you into an ambulance wrapped in a blood drenched towel.
“My chest- it hurts-“ you whimpered to them as they took your EKG.”I’m tiredddddd” you whined out as the paramedics forced you to stay up and awake.
You caught the look of horror on the paramedics face as she looked at the portable EKG machine. “Widowmaker…it’s a fucking WIDOWMAKER TELL THEM WE’RE COMING IN HOT!” She yelled to the driver desperately trying to keep your eyes open and keep you alert.
“My boyfriend…he works at…pmtc....um- Dennis Whittaker-“ you spluttered out, the elephant on your chest putting down its full weight as your head lulled back with your eyes closed.
“In their 20s- perfectly fit and healthy-? A Widowmaker fuck-“ Dana yelled over the ED about the incoming trauma. People crowded at the door to immediately provide you care, Dennis was gloving up when he saw your face enter the doors on that gurney, a paramedic on top of you performing CPR. “Somebody page cardio right now-“ Robby yelled out recognising your face from Whitaker’s phone screen, seeing him frozen in the ambulance bay.
“Are they- they’re dead- what- a heart- hear attack they - no! No!” His hands were violently shaking, steadied by Robby holding onto his shoulders.
“Right now you are not a doctor okay? Turn that part of your brain off- they’re your partner yes?” Dennis nodded rapidly “then they just need your comfort right now-“
As they made it to your side you were a mess of wires and tubes that sent shivers down his spine. “I’m here…I'm here…” his hand wrapped around yours’ the one that had the IV and blood thinners in it. As soon as Trin heard she was there in a shot, staring at one of her best friends as a patient- it almost killed her.
A few days and a stent later you were greenlit to go home, Trinity’s hand on Dennis' and your shoulder letting out a sly “no strenuous activities for 6 whole weeks! Ugh finally I don’t have to wear noise-cancelling headphones every night-“
You chuckle until they metamorphose into a fit of coughs, causing you to double over in your wheelchair. “Take it easy…” Dennis’ hand petting your shoulder.
At home you felt somewhat like a zoo animal, Trin had gone to yolanda’s to try and give you some space and time to readjust so it was just Dennis. But a version of Dennis who was no longer able to leave your side even for a second, terrified that if he did you would stop breathing, that you would end up back in the ER with fucking otero giving you CPR.
“Baby…I wanna shower.” He hummed his hand a comforting weight on your thigh over his lap moving back and forward as he scrolled TikTok “I need help showering-“ He was up in a flash, forcing a small smile from your lips and you carefully stood with him.
It was a kind atmosphere, one which contrasted your last memory of the shower for you. His eyes were locked on the new scar on your chest, the stitches working as a constant reminder of how he very almost lost you. His lips press against yours, getting lost in the warm embrace of the water over your bodies until you pulled away just slightly, “no strenuous activities”
“Only 5 weeks and 3 days left…I have an alarm on my phone.” He pressed his lips to your cheek, getting you warm and wrapped up, redressing the wound and getting you into bed for your 4th nap of the day.
“Lay with me Denny?”
“How could I ever say no to you…” his eyes were Locked on yours in that puppy dog way that confirms to you that you could never let this man feel that kind of pain and fear again.
Frank Langdon
It was the middle of the night, one that should have gone like any other, you and Frank had tried to watch a movie but ended up…entertaining yourselves until his poor back couldn’t take it anymore. He stirred to the sound of rustling and choking next to him.
“Baby?” He shot up to sit in a second flat ignoring the pain in his back watching you seize in the bed next to him, aspirating. He flipped you into the recovery position, his hand scrambling for his phone. He didn’t know how long you had been seizing but he knew he needed to call 911 yesterday. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck please stop- please-“ he rubbed your back as he gave the paramedics the full breakdown.
You gave out seizing just as the paramedics arrived, lethargic and confused at the sudden intrusion into your home, they got you to the hospital as quickly as possible, luckily you didn’t have another but for someone with 0 history of seizures before one random night in October, especially when they don’t know how long you had been down for.
He yelled out the breakdown as they entered the ER, Abbot perking up at the sound of familiar voices, your sobbing echoing around the ER. “What happened here-“ he questioned as Langdon explained the sudden onset seizures.
You went through all the leaps and bounds of being a patient, the CTs, blood tests, until you were left on the bed waiting with a heavy weight in your heart.
“What if it’s cancer…like a brain tumour or something?” You rasped hugging yourself.
“Don’t talk like that-“ Frank approached you on the side of the bed, “it could be a million things…”
“Good ...because I don’t know if I can be bald I don’t know if I have the headshape-“ you chuckled through the tears as his thumb caressed your cheekbone.
“I think you’d look sexy bald…like GI Jane…or ” his hand skimmed over your waist.
“More like calliou…” you sighed looking around the room. “I don’t know how you work in this place….I feel like it’s a vampire sucking the life outta me”
Abbott opened the curtain with a small smile “I have…confusing news…” he sat down on the end of the bed. “Your tests came back normal for the first part…” your eyes widened.
“No tumour? Nothin’?” You tilted your head still feeling the weird haze of your earlier seizure.
“No, do you have a history of epilepsy in your family?”
“My cousin or something- but I’m not a kid you don’t just randomly get- seizures-“ Frank’ hand clasped around yours.
“It can show up at any age, it’s weird I know but…you know how sometimes you just zone out? And you don’t remember it?” He smiled, guiding you.
“Yeah?”
“Those aren’t just…zoning out they-“ he looked at Abbott for approval “those could be absence seizures….”
Once you got home there was an awkward moment. what the fuck just happened? The meds went straight into the cupboard. Frank’s hand wrapping around your waist, trailing soft kisses up from your shoulder to your jaw. “I’m thinking of you with the GI June haircut again-“
“You’re such a pervert-“ you giggled as he tugged you along into the living room, mustering you up with some food, sitting across from you just staring. “Take a picture it’ll last longer, nerd” you grinned, shovelling some more noodles into your mouth.
“I love you…” He smiled while switching on his PlayStation. “Wanna test if it’s photosensitive epilepsy?”
“Fuck off-“ you giggled as he turned on Stardew valley, switching on a controller for you as well. “Love you too, dingus.” He climbed over so he could lay his head on your chest while you played. Just to hear it beat.
synopsisyou and Robby had been going steady for a few months now but when a betting board is made on who your mysterious male friend could be, Robby is not happy with the outcome.
warningslanguage, smutish- allusions to smut, jealous Robby, mention of shooting- GSW
author noterobby x reader but platonic frank x reader, can you tell santos is my favourite cause i include her in basically everything i write
Santos had had a day.
More traumas than she could deal with and a young girl who came in with bruises that suspiciously looked like abuse. She’d had just about enough when she realised she’d have to give another two hours to the place to get her charting done.
When she came home she knew Whitaker was at Amy’s and you should have been home. She watched you practically bolt out the place. Santos hoped it’d be a night of crappy food and shitty movies.
So when she ditched her keys at the kitchen counter and listened out the last thing she expected to hear was moaning.
“What the?” she called out for you.
Maybe you were having a self-care night. Charged up a vibrator and such.
Santos chuckled to herself as she made to tiptoe past your room.
There was the unmistakable sound of another.
“Oh fuck.”
Trinity paused.
You and her were close, she could admit that. You were maybe her only friend. So she knew you had been going through a dry patch. Because you were making it everyone's problem.
She listened in.
There was deep groaning from a man and your moans, the soft thudding of a bed against the wall. Trinity thanked the heavens again that the head of your bed was against Denis's wall and not hers.
“Deeper, harder,” she heard you moan.
“Oh, fuck me,” the guy groaned deep. She didn't recognise the voice. Did she?
Curious she tried to listen to the mans voice, wondering what she could tell. He must have been busy as little else was said other than groanings.
Where had you met this guy? Had this been happening longer than she knew? Is this why you hurried out?
Santos thought you weren't one of one night stands. Were you proving her wrong?
She snook into her room and knew she had to tell someone, at least Whitaker.
Robby collapsed next to you on your bed, catching his breath as you pulled the sheets up to cover your slightly sweaty bodies. The bed creaked under his weight as he moved around, getting himself comfortable.
Your bed was a small double, not really built for anyone more than one. Let alone Robby.
“You want some water or something?” you asked.
Robby chuckled, the bed creaking again as he turned on his side to face you. “Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?”
You lifted your shoulders, tucking your hands under your head to admire him. “Well you're the senior citizen with the... bad back?”
His brows lifted. “Oh that's how you want to play it.”
He grabbed your hip and pulled you close.
You were still trying to recover from the multiple orgasms Robby had ripped through your body as soon as you'd stepped through your apartment door. But that didn't stop his hands from crowding around your body, pulling you into him as all his hardness turned soft.
His lips found yours as easy as one found home, kissing you the way he knew you liked to be kissed. Head tilted to reach deeper, nose moving against your cheek.
There was a sudden shriek in your apartment.
You pushed Robby off, sitting up quick in bed.
“What?” he asked, far less alarmed then you as his arm fell around your waist.
“Trinity.”
Robby hummed. “Thought you said she was at Garcia's tonight?”
“I thought she was,” you uttered as if she was in the room.
The dating with Robby had started maybe three months ago when you'd had a disastrous date at the same bar Robby frequented with his buddy Duke. He'd seen the distress you were in with your date when he wouldn't stop talking about why sports people should actually get paid more than health care workers.
From there you had drinks with Robby.
From there he asked to see you again outside of work.
From there you ended up in his bed and he in yours on the occasions you had the place to yourself, which with two room mates didn't happen often.
You'd thought tonight was one of them.
“You should go,” you said, throwing the cover back to find your clothes in the dark.
“What?” Robby laughed, without moving. Instead he got himself comfortable, throwing an arm around the back of his head and tugging the covers down to his waist.
“Yes, do you want Trinity to know?”
“She doesn't sleep in your room though does she?”
Still, you tried to find some clothes.
The word around the PTMC was that Robby was a seven week itch kind of guy, the sort to never tie himself down. So though you'd been on dates with him and though he'd brought you flowers before and held your hands in bars and took you to a fancy dinner, he still fucked you like a guy that could move on the next day.
And you didn't want to scare him away with talk of serious dating. A bit of Robby was better than none of him.
You just didn't want your friends to judge you for that.
“Hey-hey-” Robby moved over on the bed, arm darting out to wrap around your waist and tug you back in.
You couldn't even protest before he was pulling you into him, hooking one of his large legs over yours and trapping you in. Your quilt was pulled up and his head rested next to yours.
At least when you and Robby were done with the sex you never kicked each other out of bed. But you did go into work separately.
“But-”
“-I'll be out of here first thing in the morning.”
With his arms around you and his calming breath you didn't think you could push him off you if you wanted to.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Robby kissed the blade of your shoulder and for the rest of the night that was how you were and when you woke in the morning with two hours to spare before your shift started, Robby was already gone.
“So who's the lucky guy?”
You chocked on your coffee, peering next to you at Trinity. “What?”
She smirked, leaning on the locker next to yours. “Oh come on, I heard you last night.”
The bitter taste of black coffee turned to ash in your stomach. She'd heard. Or worse, she'd been up to see Robby sneak out in the morning.
“What-what do you mean?” play it cool, you could totally starve of the humiliation. Maybe you could persuade her it was a dream, a nightmare, that she was sleepwalking and actually heard/saw/knew nothing.
“I heard you last night,” she said. “Quite the dicking down from what it sounded like.”
You felt the heat in your cheeks. “Oh my god.”
“Hey, I think its good, you deserve it,” said Santos as you hid yourself in your locker, taking great care in peeling off your jacket and finding your stethoscope inside. “So is it someone I know, or...”
She didn't know. You rejoiced silently before realising she still knew there was someone. “That is none of your business.”
“Oh come on, you know Garcia!”
“Because she works here.”
“Does he work here?”
“No!” you close the locker door, not as amused as Trinity was clearly finding this situation. “Please, he's just... a guy.”
She leaned in closer for the gossip. Few things got her as excited as gossip did. “A boyfriend guy or a sleep around guy?”
Wasn't that the golden question.
“Oh my god, you don't know.”
“Santos!” the call of her name should have saved you. Not when it was Robby calling for her as he stood between the two of you. “Pelvic exam in three.”
She groaned but gave a salute. “You got it boss,” she said to him before aiming a finger at you. “This isn't over.”
Santos had turned, leaving and you hardly waited anytime to turn back to the lockers and bash your head into them. Not enough to hurt but enough to erase the terrible fact that Santos had heard you.
Robby liked hearing you moan and you liked Robby so you always moaned loud.
And she'd caught enough of it.
Usually, you wished for Robby to be a bit louder in bed. You were glad he hadn't been.
The cold metal of the locker was replaced on what might have been your twentieth go at hitting yourself with the back of a rough hand.
“Everything okay?” asked Robby, coming to stand next to you, leaning on the lockers. His eyes creased with concern.
“She knows.”
His brows shot up, which didn't indicate a good reaction. “She knows?”
“Not about you, don't worry,” you said with a light scoff. “She knows that I had a good time with a guy last night, she doesn't know who.”
Robby nodded in consideration. “So we're in the clear?”
You screwed your eyes shut. You hadn't realised just how bad you wanted him to shrug it off, tell you he didn't care if Trinity knew, that of everyone in the ward knew, that he only cared about what it meant between the two of you. You only realised when he didn't give you that option.
He wanted to be sure he wasn't affiliated with it.
“Yeah, you're in the clear.”
You left Robby at the lockers before suspicions could grow. Nothing wrong with a resident talking to their attending and so far you and Robby had done a good job at not having any suspicion- not even from Dana.
The least you could do for the guy was keep it that way.
“You had a hot date last night?” Princess slid up to your side before you were even half way across the ward.
You groaned. “Santos told you already.”
“Why didn't you say anything?”
“Say anything about what?” Javadi's voice suddenly came from Doctor McKay's side. The older woman tried to act uninterested but her keen eyes were watching you from over the computer.
“She had a date around hers last night,” said Perhlah, coming up to your other side.
“And she won't tell us who it was,” added Princess.
Javadi's smile grew and her jaw hung open. “Who?”
You shook your head and stared at your shoes. “This is the worst day of my life.”
“Okay!” Robby's voiced boomed out. He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “We have patients, how about we go ask them some riveting questions?”
Mel frowned from somewhere in the crowd that had formed. “We should go ask them if they know who the guy is?”
She realised quickly that wasn't quite what he meant.
Perlah and Princess walked off together, quietly scheming. “Men just don't get it.”
You gulped down, smoothing your hand over your head and where the growing headache was forming. “Thanks.”
Robby said nothing but there was the brief feel of his hands on your shoulders as he squeezed before moving past you.
It was going on lunch, you'd just gotten a trauma through and up to the OR when you spotted bright post-it notes stuck up on the board in Ahmed's office. The betting board, his mini kingdom had been put back together.
Three titles.
Who?
How long?
Casual or dating?
“Oh my god!” your shriek echoed around the Pitt.
“What? What is it? What?” Robby was at your side in an instant, body almost slamming into you with how quick he slid next to you. He steadied himself, holding on.
“That!”
Ahmed had set up a betting board based on your love life.
The who column was spread with names and the name of those that had bet scribbled underneath. In the middle there was how long had it been going on for, some thought it was only a few weeks, others guessed up to six months.
The last column, wondering if it was a casual thing or serious was filled with almost every post it note saying 'casual'.
“Oh,” Robby chuckled.
“It's not funny,” you argued. “Has every body here bet?”
“Not me, I had no idea. Besides I think that's kind of cheating, right?”
“I see you've found my latest and greatest,” said Ahmed, approaching behind the two of you. “We got this up and running two hours ago, you want me to break it down for you?”
“Holy shit,” you uttered, scanning the board. It was a great and easy way to find out what everyone thought about you.
Robby nodded, leaning on the door next to you. “Holy shit.”
“How much money's in the pot?” you asked.
Ahmed grinned like he was just waiting for you to ask. “Five-hundred and five dollars!”
Robby chocked on a breath next to you as your jaw hung open.
Someone was gonna make money of your guys' sex lives and none of that was going to come to you.
“And I'm guessing I can't get in on it?” you asked.
“No," said Ahmed. “Unless, you know, you wanna tell me who it is and I'll split the money between us.”
“And who do you think it is?” asked Robby. He asked casually, still leaning on the doorframe like he couldn't care less. If he was a girl in a rom-com he might have even checked on his nails or twirled his hair. But you'd studied him close the last couple months, you'd worked all his emotions out into your own little Robby dictionary.
There was a hint of jealousy.
“Well, I've gone with the fan favourite,” he said, plucking off his post it note to show you. “Frank. Three months. And serious.”
“Langdon!” Robby announced.
Uh-oh.
“Yeah, man,” he said. “More than half these notes say it's him.”
On further reading you noticed it did. On yellows and pinks and greens Frank's name was written in quick scribbles or thought out curves.
Frank? Sure the two of you were close. You'd worked close together for a year- nearly two. You worked coordinated well in traumas and with patients you always knew what the other was thinking.
Since his divorce with you'd been helping him as much as you could. You had a friend who was a good lawyer and when he had a chance to see the kids you always covered.
You knew, of course, everything that had happened with the benzos.
You knew Robby still wasn't back to being best-buds with the guy.
You didn't know everyone thought you and Frank were together!
Donnie side stepped past you, coming in with his bets. “I got it, I got it-”
Robby snatched them from his hand, scoffing at whatever was written.
“Langdon. Two weeks and serious.”
“Et-tu, Donnie?” you asked.
“I got fifty in the pool, looking to get a new tv, you know.”
Robby stormed off.
Donnie watched. “He got a bet in?”
“Not yet, sorry, you don't mind?” asked Ahamed.
You scoffed. “Do I have a choice?”
You left them to it, finding Robby sitting at the nurses station at a computer. His jaw clenched and fingers worked furiously over the keypads. You evaluated the area before leaning in. “If you put a pool in we could split the money?”
“Should I put a bet in for Langdon?” He didn't look up to you as he slid on his glasses.
It angered you because he seemed annoyed at something he knew not to be true and because he slid on the glasses that made him even hotter than he already was.
“Is there something wrong, Robby?”
“No.”
“You seem-”
“- I'm not,” he snapped.
He was.
Robby wouldn't admit how much he let his emotions rule, especially anger. He used to be terrible for it but for a while he'd been better, lighter on his feet, patient. Since about.... well, since you started seeing each other.
“Hey.” Langdon joined your side.
You noticed a vein in Robby's neck twitch. “Hey.”
“You seen what everyone's saying?” asked Frank. “Apparently we're seeing each other?”
“Yeah,” you said, turning to him. “I had no idea.”
“You think I should buy a ring next?” he teased.
Robby slammed his hands on the counter, pushing himself up and storming off without so much as a glance.
Frank watched. “What's his problem?”
What was his problem? You'd love to know. “He had a bet on someone else,” you excused.
“Oh bummer,” said Frank. “You think he lost a lot of money?”
You didn't have time to come up with another lie as you spotted Santos and Whitaker walking by. Politely, you ditched Frank, promising you'd catch him for lunch.
“Did you start a betting system on my sex life?” you asked Trinity.
She smirked. “That wasn't me, I had nothing to do with that, seriously!”
“It's true,” said Denis. “But she was the first to put down a bet on Frank.”
You looked at her. You knew the history between her and Frank. Why would she want you to sleep with him? “You hate Frank?”
She shrugged. “So I guessed you were sleeping with him and didn't want to tell me because you know I don't like him.”
You shook your head. “I didn't want to tell you because it's none of your business.” You considered Whitaker. “Who'd you bet for?”
“I-I didn't, I-I wouldn't-”
“He bet on Nick from radiology.”
All of this from Robby sleeping with you in your apartment. Next time- if there was even gong to be a next time- you were doing it at his.
By the end of your shift anyone that hadn't placed a bet had.
Franks name had doubled and the pot was up to one thousand dollars (the highest bet in Pitt history). Frank found it funny, cracking jokes about it all day, throwing arms around you and dragging you onto cases saying 'couples that save lives together, stay together.'
Any other time you'd have laughed.
But when Robby was around every corner, glaring yet refusing to talk to you you couldn't find amusement in it.
The night had come and you were catching a break at the ambulance bay, sitting down on the curb. You were home in an hour, Denis had already gone to Amy's to deliver a lamb or something and Santos was supposed to be at Garcia's tonight.
But you highly doubted you'd have company.
“Hey,” Jack greeted, walking over to you in his midnight scrubs and bag slung over his shoulder. “How's my favourite day shift resident?”
You smiled a tired one at him. “How much money do you have in your wallet?”
Without a beat Jack fetched it and offered you what he had. Because that's the kind of guy Jack was.
“No, no,” you chuckled. “I don't need your cash. There's a betting pool on about who I'm sleeping with. I just- I was gonna ask you to not place a bet.”
Jack laughed, setting next to you on the curb, stretching out his prosthetic leg. “Would be a bit unfair seeing's as I'm best pals with the guy you're dating.”
“Not dating,” you corrected. “Probably not even seeing each other after today.”
Jack listened as you explained the distance, the glares, the snapping that returned to Robby. He didn't jump to defend his friend, he listened to you and took notes mentally. “The guys an emotional wreck. You know that. I know that.”
“But I thought he was doing better?”
“He was- is. Since he started dating you,” he said. “You ask me he's dealing with some emotions he doesn't know how to process. Jealousy. Greed. What's the other deadly sin?”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Lust?”
“Yeah. That.”
“So I'm supposed to what? Let him be a dick all over again?”
“Oh fuck no,” said Jack firmly. “Put him in his place.”
Admittedly you didn't want to. You wanted to go back to being whatever it was you had with Robby. You wanted to hold hands and share beers in shitty bars at least an hour out of town so it was kept a secret. You wanted the brush of hands between the rush of patients and the discreet meetings at his or yours.
But how far were you willing to bend before you broke?
“So who's everyone putting bets on anyway?” Jack asked.
“Frank.”
Understanding of the situation hit him. “Ah.”
“Yeah. Ah.”
Suddenly the wail of an ambulance cut through the quiet.
The doors burst open, Robby, Santos, King, Jesse all pouring out.
“GSW to the chest, forty-two year old male, weak pulse, un-conscious on the ride over,” said Robby tugging on his gloves as you and Jack jumped up. He spared a glance at the two of you before the ambulance pulled up.
You jumped into it, wheeling the gurney ahead into trauma two. Everyone working around the man.
“Okay we move him on the count of three,” said Jack as you all got a hold of the patient. “One... two... three!”
He was heavier than some, not that it would effect your level of care but it made moving him just that but more difficult. There was a breath of air and struggle from Jack and Robby, the noises you had to drown out.
“Lets get an intubation tray going!” called Robby.
The two of you crossed each other, swapping sides.
“Can we talk later?” he uttered as he paused for only a second.
“Whatever, Robby.”
He sighed heavy.
The rest of you carried on gaging the extent of his injury.
“So do you want me out the apartment tonight so your man friend can come around?” asked Santos at your side.
“I want you out cause I'm annoyed at you.”
“Ouch.”
“Okay we need to turn him to see if it went through, on my say!” yelled Robby.
The team had thinned as orders had been barked, there were two of you on either side of him: Robby and Jack, and you and Santos.
Robby passed a nod. “Okay, roll!”
You and Trinity pulled while the men on the other side pushed but maybe Robby didn't have a good grip or maybe he hadn't expected him to be so heavy.
Robby grunted and groaned. “Ah, urg-”
“Not through,” Jack grunted.
You tried to lower him as slow as you could but it wasn't slow enough as Robby's hand got trapped under.
“Oh! Fuck me!”
You and Jack lifted the body quick and Robby released his hand.
Santos was frozen.
The whole room seemed to pause for a second.
“Oh my god!” Santos cheered, arms thrown wide. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
What was wrong with her?
It took you a second to realise, memory of last night coming to you.
Robby over you, thrusting careful.
Your body moved with his thrusts but you wrapped your legs around him, pushing his pelvis in till you felt the length of him deep. “Deeper, harder,” you'd begged.
Robby had groaned out loud, just the way you liked to hear him. “Oh! Fuck me!”
He'd uttered the words into you as he pressed his weight down, squashing you onto your squeaky bed. He'd wrapped his hands around your neck, squeezing just enough to have your walls fluttering around his cock.
Santos had been home longer than you'd thought.
Now, she was practically jumping up and down, smirking. “Oh my god!”
“Trinity can I talk to you outside please?”
“It's- you- and-” her arms were waving around.
“Outside, please, Trinity!”
Everyone was staring.
“Trinity, outside!” You guided her out and she let you, abandoning the trauma and ripping off her gown. You returned, finding Robby's gaze and Jack's amused grin as he tended to the patient. “Sorry, Doctor Robby, may I talk to Santos outside for a moment?”
Robby must have jumped to the same conclusion as you. “Er yes, yes! Of course, go!”
You rushed out, nudging Trinity into an empty exam room as she laughed. You closed the door and pulled the curtain over the glass.
“It's Doctor Robby!” she said at once. “It's Doctor Robby! You're sleeping with Doctor Robby!”
“Can you keep your voice down?”
Santos laughed again, a full belly laugh. “Oh my god, this whole time I thought it was Frank. Oh, I'm so happy.” She wiped at amused tears.
“Hey!”
“How long have you been sleeping with him?”
You shook your head, tugging off your own hospital gown. “It doesn't matter.”
Finally Trinity considered you. Her laughter died. “What-what do you mean?”
How could you explain that what she'd heard last night was over hardly twenty-four hours later.
The door pushed open and Robby stepped through, gown and gloves already gone.
“Is everything okay in here?” he asked, looking between the two of you.
“You and you?” Trinity confirmed, finger gesturing between the two of you.
Robby ran his hands through the back of his hair.
“I just can't believe it,” she said. “You guys are dating?”
Robby sighed out a “yes” at the same time you shook your head, “no”
Now, Robby looked at you.
Santos folded her arms over her chest, smirking and watching like the two of you were her favourite show. “Oh.”
Robby's hands fell to his hips as he looked at you. “What do you mean, no?”
“What do you mean, yes?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean?” he chuckled.
Your rubbed at your temples. “I'm so confused.”
“You're confused, I'm confused,” Robby scoffed.
“Wait- I'm confused,” said Santos. “You guys don't know if you're dating or not?”
Robby's eyes squeezed shut in frustration. “Doctor Santos, please. Go make yourself useful.”
Trinity didn't move. She looked at you, waiting for what you wanted. Because yes, Robby was her attending but you were her friend. When she was insecure about Garcia you were there telling her how much better she could do.
In the hospital Santos was guided under Robby.
At home, she was guided by friendship and care for you.
You gave her a nod and she dismissed herself.
You didn't know where to look, didn't know where to touch.
Outside the usual routine of the Pitt carried on.
Robby sighed, hands going into his fleece pocket. “You didn't know we were dating?”
No, you really didn't. “Was I supposed to? You never asked.”
He shook his head, looking down with a chuckle. He started to list things off, counting them off on his fingers. “Flowers, dinners, day trips, was that not enough?”
“But you never said!”
“I thought it was obvious!”
“Obvious to who?”
“To us!” His hands fell to your forearms.
“No to you maybe!”
“So the dinners... the flowers, you thought it was all just, just sex?” he asked.
You'd hoped it was more. You'd dreamt about it when his weight kept you down on his bed after you kissed and made love for hours. Love...
“I... yeah.”
How long had you thought him the bad guy? Were you the one that had been distant, pulling away?
You carried yourself away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed. You never realised how uncomfortable those things were.
Robby laughed to himself, standing for a moment longer. He checked that nobody was around through the curtain before he settled next to you. He shuffled, his bodies attention focused on you. He laid a hand on your knee, tilting his head to try to look at you. “I should have asked, properly.”
“It would've saved confusion,” you admitted.
Robby's hand came up, cradling your face and drawing your attention to him. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over your cheek.
You looked at him, finding nothing but warmth in his gaze. The only thing that had been there for three months. “But today, you... you could hardly look at me.”
He took in a deep breath. “I was...” his jaw ticked.
You smirked. “Jealous?”
His eyes flickered back to yours. “Nobody on that board thought I could be dating you.”
“Till about two seconds ago I didn't even know we were dating,” you joked.
Robby shook his head, wetting his lips. “We are.”
“You're not even going to ask me?”
“I don't need to,” he said. “We're dating, that okay with you?” His face inched closer.
“I don't know, I might have to ask Frank that one,” you teased.
Robby leant back, a dark look to him. The hand caressing you fell to your neck, keeping you looking at him. “You think that's funny?”
“Everyone else thinks so-”
He pulled you in by your neck and kissed you, hard, the imprint of his teeth felt through your lips.
You held onto him, kissing him with a new need. Kissing your boyfriend. Your hands wound around his head and you brought him down on top of you.
Robby climbed atop the bed that was not made for heavy make out sessions. He held the edge with one hand and the other fell down your body till it could crawl up your scrub top, un-tucking it and holding onto your hips.
He bit down on your lip and used the opening of your mouth to slide in his tongue.
“This is un-professional,” you said against his lips.
“I've been wanting to be un-professional for months.”
You were so lost in the feel of each other you didn't notice the curtain being yanked back until you heard.
“We got him stable,” said Jack, casually. “Oh and you've got an audience.”
You looked over Robby's shoulder as he looked back to see nosey nurses and night shifters along with half the day staff all looking at you.
You tapped his shoulder and though resigned to, Robby slowly climbed off you.
“Who put down Robby?” Ahmed called. “Did anyone bet Robby?”
The crowd that had watched you both suddenly rushed to the board, scanning the name.
Eventually you and Robby joined, waiting.
“Oh my god.”
“There he is, Robby, one vote!”
Robby's head perked in confusion.
“Who is it? Who?”
Ahmed collected the money and made his way through the people. To the one who had made a bet on Robby. “Doctor Robby, three months, and serious.”
He delivered the money- to everyone's shock- to Frank.
Your jaw hung open as Frank collected the money.
Everyone looked at him, silent.
You couldn't tell if next to you Robby was okay with it or angered.
Frank looked around at everyone. “C'mon, nobody else saw it? He's been happier for three months and can't take his eyes off her.”
Clealry, nobody had.
“I thought you didn't bet?” you asked him.
Frank shrugged, bashful. “Yeah well, couldn't help myself. Here-” Langdon held out the wad of cash to Robby's hand, practically forcing it in. “Take her somewhere nice.”
You wished you had a camera to capture Robby's shock.
“Okay folks! Show's over!” called out Dana. “Day shift let's pass on to night so we can get out of here to have some fun!” she winked your way.
Slowly the crowd dissipated, shaking their heads in disappointment.
Ahmed was already pulling off the notes and rubbing away at the board.
Robby waved the cash in front of you. “What do you say, you gonna let your boyfriend treat you tonight?”
“Haha remember when murder-hornets were gonna be a thing? What a nothingburger.”
Yes, because the Washington state government activated like a sleeper-cell and ruthlessly, systematically hunted them down and annihilated them.
“Y2K came to nothing amirite?”
Yes because an army of software engineers working around the clock, losing sleep, and busting ass till the last minute prevented it from happening.
“Remember the hole in the ozone layer?”
You mean the one that was fixed through rigorous world wide government action?
One of the root problems of our society is a refusal or inability by media to articulate that all those “it’s gonna be an apocalypse” disasters were not disasters because we collectively did something about them.
The good news is this is actually quite correctable. I maintain my firm belief that we as humans are capable of solving almost all of our problems, when we decide to do so.
And I still think that’s going to happen. I don’t know when or how, but I do know that abandoning hope won’t help bring it about.
And I refuse to let the cynics own a chunk of my heart.
People don't believe you when you tell them ghost is your boyfriend.
Because really, you? The overly emotional secretary who cried in the middle of the messhall because a higher-up got a bit upset you messed up some papers? Really?
Ghost, the guy who drops men without guilt, who hurts and takes like second-nature. No one's ever even seen you two together.
"Yeah! Me an' ghost actually went there last week," you're in the middle of telling the guy at your table when he asks about some restaurant, only to be interrupted by his scoff.
"Could you quit with that? It's childish and weird."
"...what?" You ask, genuinely a bit confused. You glance at the others at the table, trying to figure it out, but they just nod along like it's obvious "quit what?"
"Stop pretending you and the lieutenant are dating. It's fuckin' weird. As if he would want to date someone like you." The soldier replies with a laugh, the rest of the able chuckling too.
The lump in your throat comes before the sting in your eyes. You liked hanging out with these people, you thought they were nice. "Like...like me?"
"Yeah. A crybaby. I mean, no offense you can't really control it," the guy continues, waving a hand as if he's making light conversation "but doesn't that take a toll? Can't imagine ghost tolerates it."
"...crybaby?" That....that hurts. You couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks in fat droplets if you tried. Tears only earning a chuckle from the table, as if proof of their words. You...you knew you were emotional, but ghost insisted he didn't mind. You weren't actually bothering him, right?
Hands shaking, you stand from the table, appetite completely gone.
Just as you turn to flee, you run right into someone. Large, warm hands catch you before you can stumble, and– oh. You recognize those hands.
"Hey lovie, I was just looking for you." Ghost says a little too loud, then leans in to whisper "you okay? Wots wrong, dove?"
You sniffle, trying to hide in ghost, face burning in humiliation "nothing. Just being dramatic."
"Mhm." Ghost hums, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck. You don't see it, but the glare he sends to your table is deadly. Three careers just ended with a single look. "Why don't you eat lunch in my office? Hm, love?"
Ghost never lets you into his office, probably because you always distract him. He can obviously tell how upset you are.
You don't get a word out before he's pulling you close to his side and practically herding you out if the mess hall. While you snuggle with him in his office, your show playing on his phone, he absently writes transfers for those soldiers. Out far away in a base doing paperwork all year. An extremely generous outcome, if you ask him.
dededos
ellievsbear
andulkaphoto
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
