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.”