[broughtpeace]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄. : an independent, canon divergent, mutuals-only roleplay blog for DANA EVANS from the television show the pitt as written by dana ( 29, acst, she/her ).

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[andremichaux]

THE PITT | 2.06, “12:00 P.M.”

Bonus:

[broughtpeace]

[BLANKET]

@cagedb1rd / prompt

looking up as she feels the weight of the blanket cover the back of her shoulders, dana's hands move to wrap the blanket around her front as she smiles softly up towards yoojin. "thanks sweetheart," she murmurs, shuffling across where she sits to make some more room for the other to sit alongside her. letting out a soft sigh, there's a moment of quiet as dana looks out over the empty (for now) ambulance bay. there's still snow swirling in the air and traffic has come to a near standstill. she's not even sure how she'll get home that night, but it's the least of her concerns right now. "how are you keeping up? it always gets crazy at times like this. not that crazy wasn't their base level in most cases.

[murkyhazed]

@broughtpeace

               jo   can   see   it   the   moment   dana   opens   the   door.      the   telltale   signs   of   a   new   mother   struggling.      the   messy   hair,   the   clothes   just   thrown   on   with   little   care   whether   they   matched   or   not,   the   dark   circles   beneath   her   eyes.      and   god   love   her,   but   jo   can   tell   the   woman   hasn’t   showered   in   a   few   days.      she’s   got   a   keen   nose,   years   and   years   working   in   the   ER   had   her   develop   one.      but   jo   isn’t   here   to   judge,   she’s   been   there   herself.      and   she’s   well   aware   dana   doesn’t   have   much   of   a   support   system,   save   for   that   one   spicy   redhead   that   screams   chaos.

               no,   josephine   is   here   to   help   in   any   way   she   can.      whether   that’s   cleaning   the   place,   taking   the   baby   for   a   while,   cooking   up   a   meal,   anything   she’ll   provide   for   her.      ❝   i   say   this   with   love   baby   girl,   but   you   are   a   hot   mess   right   now.   ❞      she   steps   inside   the   home   which   could   definitely   use   a   little   TLC.      hard   to   do   with   a   newborn   around.      ❝   bet   you’re   realizing   it   ain’t   all   sunshine   and   rainbows   like   the   media   makes   it   seem.   ❞

[broughtpeace]

jo barely even makes it through the front door before it starts. suddenly dana feels as if she should have forgone the extra half an hour of sleep after benji had left that morning before alex had woken her up again with a cry. half an hour could have helped her tidy the living room or had a shower or found the time to sort the clean clothes she knows are still waiting for her in the dryer downstairs. still, she doesn't let the smile drop, a smile that she's become well versed in over her few years of being nurse. she hasn't been at it for half as long as jo has, but still she can fake it well.

"it's a bit like that," she says, a bit of a laugh on her lips that she hopes sounds realer to jo's ears than they do her own. heading through to the living room, dana quickly makes her way to the bassinet where alex is still sleeping. her smile becomes softer, more devoted, a mother looking over her baby and all is right in the world for a moment. it takes a minute for her to snap out of her reverie before she's looking back at jo. "did you want something to eat? or i can make you a coffee?"

[sympatheticdominance]

"Because I - I don't know. It might be… longer than three months, Dana, I might not…" he broke off, took a sharp breath, shaking his head, a short little jerk, pursing his lips for a moment before he licked them, chewing on the bottom one. "Just in case. I don't know! But it's not time for them yet, so, please, let go." he gave another little pull, a small jerk in his hand. He didn't want to tear them. They'd been hard enough to write and he didn't have the energy to do it all over again.

"I just needed to say some things, that's all," he said, voice almost pleading, now, "And it was easier to do that when I was writing them down, you always say how emotionally constipated I am." he laughed, but it was fragile, too quick, too high. "Just…" he swallowed, struggling to find the words now. He hesitated, and then let go.

Moving back, he unlatched his backpack from his shoulder, shoving Jack's deep into the main body of it, pressed against the dogeared book that was in there. That would keep it flat.

[broughtpeace]

the lack of answers are all the information that dana needs to know. to hear robby stumble over the words, the reason for the letters, how long he'll be away for. it all stacks up in her mind that her suspicions were right. she doesn't want to be right. she'll take so much else other than being right about this. a part of her wishes that jack will notice what is going on in this quieter corner of the er. that he'll approach and she won't be alone in handling this situation with robby.

however, it's independence day night and she won't be so lucky. no, she's on her own tonight. even as they stand still in the er. when robby lets go of the papers, dana instinctively draws them closer to her chest. when he moves to put jack's letter into his backpack, she is quick to slip the papers in her own hands into the inner pocket of her jacket, holding them close to her body as she looks back to him.

still her eyes don't leave him, watching over him, attempting to work out what she's supposed to say, to do what would make him change his mind. she's been trying for so long now and for every step forward she thinks she takes, she's taking three backwards almost immediately after. when they'd spoken on the roof, he'd made her promises that she now realises he didn't intend to keep beyond that night. what was she supposed to do? how was she supposed to guarantee that would be here tomorrow and the next day and the one after that?

"what are you doing?' the question is vague. does she mean now? tonight? for the next three months? for the rest of his life? dana doesn't even know what she means. there's so much running through her mind all at once, so many questions that she needs answers for, that he isn't providing her. "don't tell me you're going tonight. it's so late already. stay. we can... we can go and get a drink. god knows we both haven't eaten today."

[sympatheticdominance]

He's trying to think of a lie, but he's never been good at that. He likes truth by omission; he likes to say something honest, that disguises the hurt underneath it, and if he lies and tells her that it's not for her - maybe that it's about her - that it's not meant to reach her - that she's not meant to see it - none of that would be true, now would it? It's hers. It's for her. The words inside are meant to be seen by her eyes. But the problem is… not yet.

"It's not done." he said, simply, and maybe that wasn't quite the truth. The words are finished, even if they were hard to write, plenty of messy crossings out and the actual text is shorter than it first appears. "It's not ready for you yet." and maybe that's closer to honesty. He'll take them with him. They'll find them, along with his ID, in his backpack. If he gets found, then they'll make it back. If not… then it stays a mystery. That's what this needs to be, right? A mystery. She's not letting go of the letters and his throat was tight as he gave a small tug, feeling the hint of crumpling as the paper was yanked in functionally three directions.

"It's just… a letter, Dana. Doesn't have to be anything bigger than that." he said, gesturing with his other hand, the one holding the letter with Jack's name on the front. His was the first one he wrote. The handwriting is the neatest. It got messier as he went along, trying to think of whom he would owe an apology to. Whitaker, Mohan, Langdon. Jake, Jack, Dana. There's a will, too, but that's buried somewhere deeper in the backpack - that was always meant to be along for the ride rather than shoved into the back pocket as an afterthought.

"Give me them back, Dana." he said, firmly, not feeling firm at all.

[broughtpeace]

she doesn't want to let go. deep down she knows what the papers are. in brief flashes she had seen the other names and it's like it's all falling into place in her mind. she sees the paper in robby's other hand. she can just make out jack's name from this distance. maybe if it had been any other circumstance, she might not have picked up on exactly whose name it was, but after seeing her own she knows just what it is she's looking for. the familiar names.

she's curious to know what names are beneath her own, but that would mean juggling the papers too much and giving robby too much of an opportunity to take them back. her hold is resolute. she's not giving in. the er continues to bustle around behind her, busier than normal for a saturday night considering the holiday. it's just a letter. the words echo in her mind alongside the beeping equipment, mindless chatter, footsteps and every other noise coming from behind her.

"what are you writing me a letter for? and jack?" and god knows who else that's in his pile. she can imagine the names that would be most likely to appear. counting them off in her mind one by one. despite the firmness, dana can't make herself let go of the papers. to let them go would be giving in. it would be letting him win. letting him do whatever it was that he had in mind. she couldn't let him. she wouldn't let him. "you're only going for three months. we don't need letters just for that."

[sympatheticdominance]

He wasn't fast enough to grab them; Dana was there, Dana was picking up the neatly folded letters and he could feel his heart thumping in his throat against his adam's apple. He managed to grab the one that had gone off in a different direction, and that one had Jack's name on it. There weren't a lot of letters, admittedly; the thickest ones were for her and Jack, understandably… and one for Jake.

He reached out his hand to take them, clearing his throat, not knowing what to say as she held it. He hadn't decided what he was going to do with them yet. They were… a precaution. He'd half intended to leave them here but he'd realised the alarm bells that would rise. Then he'd wanted to leave them at home on the counter but… what if they found them and he decided to come back? He'd been doubly grateful for that when he'd offered Whitaker his home.

So they'd ended up in his backpack and now… on the floor. In Dana's hands. Where his living eyes were not meant to see them.

"Didn't do the zip up properly." he settles on saying as his hand tightens around the paper, ready to pull them from her hand. "Thanks, Dana." if he doesn't acknowledge it, maybe she won't push. Maybe she'll stop looking at him like that, after all their conversations today…

[broughtpeace]

they've fought today more than they ever have before. sure, they squabble and bicker on occasion, but the words never felt as harsh as they did. normally their fights were over a patient, differing opinions about treatment methods or next steps. however, they always come back together when it's need, work together better as a team than she does with any other attending here. only today the words had been more aimed, targeted at each other, flying back and forth without being truly resolved.

they'd still managed a joke, somehow, in pedes as she had held the baby. a witty retort about getting fresh air. it's as she stands here now with a letter that's clearly been addressed to her that dana realises they could have very well been the final words they would have said to each other.

they're each holding the paper, her two hands to his one, but dana's not letting go so easily. she takes in a shaky breath as she looks down at her name once more and she can't let go. not when she knows what this is. she doesn't know what it says inside, isn't sure that she wants to know, but to hand it back to him feels like she'd be letting him win. that she'd be letting him do this. "it's mine," she says, tugging the paper in closer to her. it feels wrong to say. maybe even slightly selfish, but she's not wrong. she knows her own name. "what did you write me, robby?"

[sympatheticdominance]

It was late. Dark. Time to go home. Time to leave behind this place. Back to his empty house that doesn't feel like home; back to a bed that feels cold; a place that tastes like dust. Robby was... lingering, tonight. Lingering maybe a little too long. Eyes drifting over photos on the wall, heroes of their past, here. I wonder if they'll put my picture on that wall, too. Will Dana come by to look at my face? Langdon? Jack? It wouldn't matter, really. His backpack had slid down his arm. As he turned he yanked it up, not realising a pocket had opened. The faint shuffling noise caught his attention, as a handful of envelopes escaped; floating down with surprising gentleness, featherlight. He froze and then jolted, realising just what was now falling to the ground, the names scrawled on the front of them.

[broughtpeace]

it had been a relief to see henny arrive. it was just in time as everyone else had been heading to the roof. dana hadn’t had a chance to pack up her own things and so with the main fireworks display over and everyone dispersing for the night, she heads back down to the er to collect her things before fin leaving for the night. she moves quickly, not staying in one place for too long as she collects her jacket and her bag, simply wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

she’s about to head towards the ambulance bay doors when she catches it out of the corner of her eye. she’d know that movement anywhere. the way he strides towards the exit to chairs. it makes dana’s head turn and her eyes track robby as he goes. there’s barely a thought to it as she redirects herself from heading towards the ambulance bay doors to follow him.

when she sees where he’s stopped, there’s no surprise to it. the sight caused an ache in her heart. it reminds her of that night from nearly ten months ago when they had stood right there looking at the photos on the wall, of adamson in particular. she pauses there for a moment just to watch him as robby hikes the bag higher up his shoulder.

she sees as the papers fall from his backpack and there’s hardly a second thought to it before dana’s taking a step forward to scoop up the near pieces that have fluttered down near her own feet. she’s straightening the pile in her hands to hand back to robby when it catches her eye. her own name scrawled across the white paper in a handwriting she’d come to know so well. freezing where she stands, she stares at her own name for a long moment before her eyes flicker upwards to robby, the realisation apparent in her eyes as to what she’s holding. “robby…”

[broughtpeace]

celebrating pride month with my girl dana and need a new icon for the occasion!

[broughtpeace]

[SPIN] from perry ,,, maybe their younger versions

@her0eswelcome / prompt

it's been a long trip, but there's a zing of excitement that comes as dana steps off the greyhound in baltimore. looking around as she waits, it's not long before dana's collecting her duffel bag from where it had been stowed under the coach and she's making her way towards the exit. there's anticipation building inside of her with each step that she takes, mounting with each and every passing moment knowing that the time is nearly here. rounding the corner, her brain registers his presence before she truly sees him. she knows perry. the way he looks. the way he moves. it only takes a second for dana to break into a run to cover the distance between them. just before they collide, she allows the duffel bag to slip from her shoulder as she throws herself into his arms, feeling his own wrap around her and in a second her feet have been lifted from the ground and she's being spun around in the air. "perry!" she's not complaining though, not as she pulls back to look at him when he slows their spin down. "god i've missed you."

[broughtpeace]

"Floor Time"

@pittcaptain / prompt

she should get up and move, but she doesn't. eyes resolutely closed, dana breathes in the cool night air after another long and trying day. she's taken the scrunchie from her hair, shoved into one of the pockets of her scrubs as she lays back on the roof. most others would balk at the thought, but considering what else she deals with most days an infrequently visited roof isn't the worst thing she's touched that day by far. she hears robby coming, but she doesn't move. just by the sound of his familiar shuffle she knows its him. in fact, she doesn't even open her eyes until he's said her name for the third time, teary blue eyes staring up towards the sky and therefore familiar brown eyes. "i'm fine. you don't have to hang around for me."

[loveletters2myself]

the intimacy of knowing what someone's hands feel like

[broughtpeace]

"Floor Time"

@jabbotmd / prompt

two sets of near identical eyes look up when the sound of footsteps fill the doorway. dana's laying on her side, her head propped up with the palm of her hand and her granddaughter is laying on her stomach beside her, distracted from her texture mat on the floor by the new person in the room. "hey. did you decide to join the cool gang and leave the rest of them outside?" there's a teasing tone layered into dana's voice as she speaks to jack. from here, she can hear the ruckus outside that is ongoing as everyone enjoys the summer day out on the deck. "it's an exclusive club. entrance only allowed if this one decides you're allowed to join." she nods her head towards her granddaughter, two little hands banging repeatedly on the floor. "i think that's a yes."

[ofthclight]

"i will when you do, baby." he teases, flashing her a smile that's sure to piss her off more. but the familiar banter serves to cover up the concern that he feels growing inside of him. dana evans does not stop working. hell, when she had the mis --- when they lost --- when it happened, she was back to classes the next day. she works through the pain. so the fact that even she's admitting that she wants out of her is enough to push him into action. "princess," he turns to address the other nurse, giving her a hard look and moving around the back of the nurses station counter to grab dana's keys. "fix the board. tell robby i'm taking her home." in a move that he's sure will fuel the other nurses' gossip for days to come, rourke grabs dana's sweatshirt off the back of her chair and takes his hand to rest at the small of her back. "i'm taking you home." his voice is low, and only for her, and it leaves no room for argument --- even if he knows she'll fight to make the room for it. "that husband of yours in town?"

[broughtpeace]

any other day his comment would be followed by another eye roll of dana's and some witty retort. only today jay barely gets an eye roll out of her. it's a sign of just how she's feeling deep down, despite the walls that she's attempting to keep up whilst she remains at work. they're walls she's long established, but now they're crumbling all around and there's few people who could see just how cracked they truly are. she only watches on as jay rounds the counter and he's going to grab her keys and it's without a fight. she only watches on, feeling the weight of the day compounding on her more with each passing second. the ache that she still feels from the fracture in nose, her feet that hurt after fifteen hours on her feet, the rumble in her stomach when she hasn't eaten for half the day. all of it leads to her not arguing when jay's hand finds the small of her back, the final indicator of just how bad this day has been. "i should..." she starts, but the words quickly fail her. the look in his eyes, the exhaustion in her own, it makes the decision for her. she steps forward, only once to gently pull down her photos from her desk. the ones of her grandkids. she doesn't look up when jay asks that question. she's still staring at the photo of her youngest grandchild when she answers the question. "no..."

[sympatheticdominance]

"Eight hours." he mumbled, and his lips were numb and he knew, of course he knew that Dana was there, next to him, and feeling the slight tremble in his limbs as he thinks back. "That's how long it took. Eight hours, little bit less. Clean a life out of the ambulance bay. Scrubbed it all down, no trace of him left. They tried to buoy us all up, I remember… that, I remember the… how angry I was. At him. At them, for talking about therapy and… it was ridiculous. That we could try to forget that a man we knew was… fuckin'… splattered up the walls." he paused.

"But there was nothing they could do, when they got to him. So fast. He must have waited until there was nobody in the bay and then…" his feet nudged forward, just a touch, looking towards that edge again. "It must have been instant. Right? I wasn't there, I was… in with a patient. But he was in such a good mood. Do you think…" he swallowed hard again, closing his eyes.

"Do you think he felt relieved?" he mumbled, "Was that why he was so… happy? He'd made a decision, so now he was… free…" he jolted, as if only just recognising that her hand was there next to his right now.

"Right. Sorry. Uh." he closed his eyes, brows furrowing, taking a deep breath. "I promised you I would make it downstairs today. I… promised Jack, too," he mumbled, blinking almost languidly.

[broughtpeace]

dana's patient as she stands there. locked into each and every word that robby's saying as he looks out over the edge of the building. any move he makes is quickly followed by her own, when he feet nudge forward then she's right beside him. she considers fighting him, attempting to pull him back, but she's seen the horror stories with her own eyes of people that have attempted that. all it would take was a misstep for either one of them. it's not a risk she's willing to take. yet.

"i don't know..." it's the honest answer. they hadn't known what marc was thinking. it was what had led to what had happened. no one had been able to read his mind, to know the thoughts that were going through his head. only now she has a chance. a chance to make a difference this time. for robby. his thought process is clear. even if he's not telling her everything, he's laying out enough for her to know. enough that she knows she can't turn her back for an instant. "are you feeling relieved?"

dana thinks she knows the answer herself, but she's cautious in the way she asks it. as if there's a chance that she may be wrong. that there's even more that robby is hiding from her, that is different than the way that he's showing himself to be for her now.

she doesn't say anything when he doesn't take her hand, but it's still there on offer to him. ready for him to take the moment he feels as if he wants to. "take my hand. i'm going to keep you safe, robby. always will."

[sympatheticdominance]

"Were you here, Dana," he could barely remember, now, how long ago it had been; who had been here, where, how; he wasn't sure he remembered anyone else from this time, but he sure as fuck remembered… him. "It was my first year here. First year as an attending." he'd done his time in Pittsburgh as a med student, but his residence had been in New Orleans, which had been fascinating, eye opening. Pittsburgh, though, was his home. He always found himself back here, and getting a position as an attending in his ideal hospital…

"He was a med student. Or… a resident, actually, I don't… I don't remember, now, but his name…" he took a slow breath, "His name was Marc, and he…" he clenched his jaw, "We all saw he was struggling, we did. He was trying so fucking hard, but over and over he just kept… getting things wrong, making mistakes, he got so stressed out and he couldn't balance back and it was just…" he exhaled slowly. "They closed the ED for eight hours. Just… the ambulance bay."

He took a few steps towards the edge of the roof, now.

"After that, they put the bar up." he gestured at it, "Like it's any good at stopping anything." he snorted, "Like it's going to…." he gestured vaguely, "That was before Gloria worked here, actually. We all felt like we'd failed him, somehow, realised he was screaming for help and nobody could…" he rubbed at his eyes, dashing the tears away.

"And back then," he gestured with his hand, voice rougher now, "Back then I couldn't understand it! He just needed to work harder, or… or maybe consider something else, a different line of work. How could you do something like that?" he scoffed, "How could you just… throw it all away like that? And it was…" he swallowed. "It was just… fuck." he lowered his head, blinking as tears dripped off his lashes.

"I keep thinking about him. The few days before. He was a different man. Laughing, joking; relaxed and friendly. Didn't make a single mistake, didn't fuck up, had the patients smiling, had us all feeling like it would all be okay. Didn't know why. Didn't think about it." he bit his lip, looking back off at the drop. "I didn't understand, Dana. But now I think… I think I do."

[broughtpeace]

dana's quiet as she listens to robby talk, letting him get what he needs to off of his chest as he talks through whatever is going through his mind. she'll stay here all night if she needs to, staying at his side, making sure that he'll still be here when the sun comes up tomorrow morning. it wouldn't be the first time she hasn't made it home from work one night, she's pulled plenty of doubles in her time, but she's not working now. she's still here though, still listening, still doing her best to help.

"course i remember marc," she whispers, her mind travelling back to a time from years ago. it brings back a wave of guilt too. how long had it been since she had thought of him? how dismissive had she been at the time of his skill, his talent, the mistakes that nurses had to fix over and over again. her included. at the time, she thought he had been more trouble than he was worth, a thought that she more than regrets now, but that's just hindsight, isn't it?

without a thought to it, she follows robby, standing at his side, their arms barely brushing against one another's as they said together. she's trying to think ahead, to plan the next steps, just what this night is going to look like and what she's supposed to do. there's so many thoughts running through her mind. the options. taking him home. marching him down to the er. every possibility she comes up is worse than the last, but she feels it necessary. she can't just turn and leave. not now.

looking up at robby as he admits that he understands marc's final days, there's tears filling her blue eyes as her mind swirls for the appropriate response. if they were downstairs, if he were a patient, then she'd be calling psych for a consult, getting him admitted, but they both know the system. they both know the game too well. "i'm here. i see it. i'm hearing you, robby. i'm not gonna let you down like we let marc down."

silently she holds out her hand, offering it for him to take. she still doesn't know where the night is going to take them, but she wants him at her side, needs him there, the reassurance that he's still there, still alive. she can only take this one step at a time with him and she's ready to do what she needs to help him down the safe way back to the ground.

[sympatheticdominance]

There it is, now. Standard Robinavitch manipulation, and he feels a sickness deep in his chest at the monster that he knows he is. There she is; hand on his back, grounding, soothing, and he found himself wondering whether he wanted grounded right now. He wanted… something, he… shit, he wasn't sure what.

Maybe he did want to jump. He wanted the fall. Wanted to step off the edge and float away into nothingness. That would be easier, wouldn't it? Less messy, at least. It's not the longest drop in the world but it would certainly be far enough, the ground hard enough… it would close off the ambulance bay.

Eight hours, last time. He wondered how much mess he would make. How long it would take. His mouth parted, ready with a lie, but he… he couldn't. Not to Dana. It caught in his throat, sticking, a reminder of how he had fucked up their nice little moment in the sunshine and he had just promised her he wasn't planning to jump but…

Lying had started to feel so much easier, recently. His default was lying. Honesty was dangerous, that was a psych hold and a lost job and a reminder that most people weren't like this. Most people weren't…

"I don't even know what's going on in my head, any more," he said, and laughed, low, raspy, brief. He inhaled sharply between his teeth. "I keep… thinking about it. How much of a problem it would cause. I'd like to think it would give you a break but," he laughed again, higher now, breathier, "I don't imagine it would. Keep imagining Gloria just directing the ambulances to go around the body. Ignore it for now. We'll handle it later." the laughing was slipping, more unhinged, exhausted, the edge bordering on tearful.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't… say these things." he swallowed hard, and looked at her with shining eyes, big dark baby deer eyes, lost and slightly glazed eyes. His hands were shaking so he shoved them in his pockets.

[broughtpeace]

in thirty years on the job, dana has seen and done it all. there's little that is left that could truly surprise her, yet hearing it from robby still takes her breath away. normally it's easier for her to maintain her composure, to keep a certain distance as someone would tell her the deepest and darkest thoughts in their mind, but it's not so simple when you know the person speaking them so well.

all of it is circling her mind at once now. random memories from years of working together. from the good times to the bad to the most trivial. robby's ingrained himself as a part of her. an extension of herself. an extra limb that she feels lost without when they're apart for too long. working their way up through the ranks together to be where they are now. it's impossible for her to imagine the er without him now, with dry and sarcastic comments following her where she goes, but so often followed up with a refreshed coffee or her favourite sandwich he knows to grab for her before they all disappear.

listening to him as he speaks, her hand doesn't stop moving up and down his back as she allows it all to spill from him, no longer just encased in his own mind, but shared with her too. they're thoughts that will haunt her, but she doesn't want him to be thinking them alone. if she knows, then she can do something. if she knows, then she can help. "it wouldn't be a break for me," she murmurs, voice breaking as she speaks. looking up at him, she tilts her head until she catches his eye and sees all of the pain and loss behind those brown eyes she knows so well. "i don't... i don't know this job without you anymore... i don't know what i'd do if you weren't here anymore and to know you... you didn't it here... i couldn't come back. couldn't ever go near that fucking ambulance bay again."