McRaider
Summary: It had been a one-night stand, there was no way Robby would ever be anything other than his boss and mentor. Dennis was all alone in this.
A/N: Pitt Whump Week – Day 7 – Prompts used: All Alone & Gurney
Dennis stared down at the pregnancy test, it was positive. This was his third one over three days. All had shown the exact same reading. Positive. He was pregnant. “Fuck,” he mumbled, as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was exhausted, walking around the hospital, around Dr. Robby for twelve hours a day after one night of passionate sex was harder than Dennis could say. He had feelings, but he was pretty sure he was just another notch on Dr. Robby’s bed post. The man was certainly known for his sex-capades.
“Fuck,” he whispered again, his chin quivering slightly as he tried to real in his emotions. He was only a med student. Still trying to get his career started. But he wanted a family, he wanted children. Desperately, with every ounce of his being, so, despite not being emotionally or mentally prepared to be a father, he couldn’t deny a small part of him was over the moon at the idea. Even if he was going to be in it all alone.
Tossing the test in the trash, he stood a little taller, forcing himself to pull it together. He could do this. All he had to do was get through today and then he had two days off in a row. He could get an OB appointment, talk about anti-nausea meds and sleep. Pulling himself together, he stepped out of the bathroom, the frenetic noise of the immediately overwhelmed him — monitors chiming, voices overlapping, the constant squeak of shoes against tile.
Two hours later, Dennis sat at one of the desks, his charts blurred together, words swimming on the screen as he tried to focus through the dull pounding behind his eyes.
He blinked, forcing himself upright on the rolling stool. “Yeah, sorry—” The room tilted sharply, his vision narrowing at the edges. Heat flushed through him, then drained away too fast.
His knees buckled. Strong hands grabbed his arms before he hit the floor. Someone swore sharply — familiar, urgent.
“Hey. Hey, I’ve got you,” Dr. Robby said, bracing him against his chest as Dennis sagged bonelessly. “Dennis, look at me.”
Dennis tried. His eyes fluttered open and shut. “I’m… fine,” he slurred, which was a lie so obvious it almost made him laugh.
Another set of hands appeared, steady and practiced. “We need a gurney. Now.” Trinity’s voice cut through the noise, calm but tight as she helped guide Dennis onto a nearby gurney. “Legs up.”
Robby followed immediately, already checking Dennis’s pulse, his jaw set hard. “Talk to me. When’s the last time you ate?”
Dennis swallowed. His mouth felt painfully dry. “Yesterday. I think.”
“And drank?” Robby pressed.
Dennis shook his head weakly. “I—” He stopped not recalling, nausea rolling through him fast and viciously. Trinity was there instantly with an emesis basin, and Dennis barely had time to turn his head before he retched. There wasn’t much in his stomach — there never was lately — but it burned just the same.
Robby straightened, eyes snapping to Trinity. “This has been happening?”
Trinity nodded, pushing Dennis’s hair back from his clammy forehead. “For days. He’s been throwing up a lot. Barely eating. Living on coffee and stubbornness.” Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “He’s exhausted, Robby. I’ve been telling him that.”
Dennis groaned faintly. “You weren’t supposed to tatt—”
“Shut up,” she said affectionately, squeezing his shoulder. Then, quieter, to Robby: “He’s been coming home late, crashing hard, and still dragging himself in before dawn. I’m getting worried there’s more to it.”
Robby exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Me too.” His focus snapped back to Dennis, voice gentler but no less firm. “You’re done for the shift. Fluids, labs, antiemetics. We’re not arguing about this.”
Dennis tried to protest, but his eyelids were already growing too heavy. “Didn’t mean to…” he murmured. “…cause a scene.”
Robby’s hand stayed solid on his arm. “You didn’t. But you’re not alone anymore, Den. We’re here to help.”
Dennis’s eyes slid shut, his grip tightening reflexively on Robby’s sleeve as the gurney started moving, the sounds of the ED fading into the background.
“Robby, Dennis’ lab results are back,” Dana called, without looking at him.
Robby didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he felt his lungs burn. The test results sat open in front of him now, stark and clinical. Numbers, ranges, flags all clean. One word however stood out among all the other results: Positive. He stared at the word like it might change if he stared long enough. The mouse hovered over the screen, as he resisted the urge to scroll back, to double-check, to hunt for something he could call an error. Lab contamination. Misfiled sample. A typo.
But he already had. Three times. And it didn’t change a damn thing.
Robby dragged a hand down his face, the rasp of his stubble loud in the already chaotic noise of the ER. Yet he couldn’t focus anywhere but on that single word. Did Dennis know? If so, how long had he known?
They’d slept together just over two months ago, he didn’t think Dennis had been with anyone since then, but he supposed he didn’t really have any way of knowing. His heart rebelled a little at the thought that Dennis had been with someone else, as if his heart had any right to put claim on the younger man.
That thought dropped like a weight in a pond, heavy and destructive. Dennis was so fucking young. Barely twenty-eight. What if he didn’t want kids? What if he didn’t want kids with a cranky, old bastard like Michael Robinavitch.
It was only supposed to be a one-time thing. One night, he told himself again, though it sounded thinner every time. One bad decision. He’d had a drink too many, Dennis had looked at him like he wasn’t already past his best years, like he wasn’t… this.
And now he’d screwed everything up. His inability to say no to that beautiful young man, who was so fucking smart, and funny and bratty and yes, a little weird. Robby wanted it to only be a one-time thing, but he couldn’t deny he was drawn to the younger man.
Now, Dennis is pregnant. With a baby—with his baby. Robby’s hand stilled on the desk.
He’d never… He hadn’t let himself—
He’d always told himself it wasn’t something he wanted. That he was too busy, too set in his ways, too aware of exactly how badly things could go. He’d seen enough families fracture under less. Watched too many bright starts grind down into resentment. Too many deaths in the harsh light of the ER.
And him? He wasn’t… easy. He knew that. God, he knew it.
Short-tempered. Blunt. An asshole, if he was being honest—and he usually was, at least with himself. He pushed people away before they had the chance to decide he wasn’t worth staying for.
What if Dennis didn’t even want the baby? It was his body; Robby would never push him to keep the child. But the idea of losing their baby, a piece of Dennis and a piece of Robby, cut deeper than Robby was willing to admit. He could see it in his mind, holding a newborn infant, holding Dennis during late night feedings. Raising the kid together, but would people assume Robby was a grandfather, the idea stung.
Taking a steady breath, he locked station and stood, heading into Dennis’s room. He’d sit and wait for the man to wake. Whatever Dennis decided, Robby would honor that decision, Dennis deserved nothing less.
When Dennis woke a little later, he was lying on his side, an IV in each arm, one likely fluids and the other likely anti-nausea meds or a banana bag. He couldn’t deny he felt infinitely better. The lights were dim and he sat up enough to look around, where he was met with the soft smile of his attending. “Hey, you’re looking better,” Robby greeted as he shifted closer to the bed, his cool hands sliding around Dennis’s wrist to check his pulse.
“Thanks, feeling better.”
Robby smiled, “Good, then maybe we can talk about how a doctor gets himself to this point, what’s going on, kid?”
Dennis sighed, “It’s nothing, just, stomach bug—”
Robby laughed, and shook his head, before he pulled up something on the tablet and handed it over. “You didn’t think we ran a blood test. Dennis, you’re pregnant.”
Dennis’s eyes slid shut. “Shit.” How had he not considered that possibility.
“Yes,” Dennis whispered. “I’m sorry! I swear I didn’t do this to trap you, or—I’m not asking anything of you. I—”
“Whoa, hey,” Robby gripped Dennis’s hand in his. “Take a breath, Den.” They sat there in silence for a long moment. Before Robby spoke again. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah, you’ve been the only one for months.”
When Robby finally spoke, his voice was different—lower, unguarded. “You were going to do this alone.”
Dennis looked away, shame flickering across his face. “I didn’t know how to tell you. You’re my attending. My boss. And it was one night.” His throat tightened. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. About me. About… this.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me,” he said, not unkindly. “And you don’t have to carry this by yourself.”
Dennis let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want you to think I trying to push you into anything.”
“I know.” Robby’s voice softened. “And I will respect whatever you want to do.”
He pulled the chair closer, sitting level with Dennis now. Not an attending. Just Robby. Dennis took a deep breath, “I want to keep it.”
Robby smiled, a soft little thing that made Dennis’s heart do something funny. “Then we’ll figure this out,” he said quietly. “Together. One step at a time. You’re not alone anymore.”
Dennis’s shoulders sagged, the tension finally cracking as relief washed through him. “Okay,” he whispered.
Robby pressed a gentle kiss to Dennis’s hand, “Get some sleep, I’ll stay with you.”
