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It’s like he can feel it in the air, what today is.
It hangs over him like a weight, pressing down on his chest to the point he struggled to suck in a breath.
He already knew it was coming up, how couldn’t he?
He tried to make the days blend together, meld into a grey he doesn’t have to think about until the day passed without him noticing—
But it didn’t work.
None of it did.
These past few days, he hasn’t…well, for lack of a better term, he hasn’t been himself.
He’s somehow been even more quiet during his shifts, content to sink into the outskirts of a room until everybody in there forgot he was there in the first place.
He feels detached, and even though he realistically knows what’s happening, he can’t stop it.
It’s like there’s a wall in his brain, keeping him from reaching out to people— people he knows would understand, would care.
He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring off, unmoving as his alarm still blares on his phone beside him until Trinity starts knocking on his door, calling for him.
He peels himself from the suffocating warmth of the bed, steeling himself
It’s fine.
he’s fine.
Santos opens his door, but he doesn’t have the energy to look at her.
“C’mon, Huckleberry! either we leave now or the bus—” she trails off when she catches sight of him. Instantly, the grip she has on the strap of her backpack tightens, her jaw flexing.
She steps forward as he stands from the bed, grabbing his phone as he sluggishly begins to gather his things that were still scattered around his room from when he’d gotten home from his last shift.
“I’m uh…I’m sorry, I must’ve slept through the alarm.” He manages a small smile, but it hurts his chest to even fake it.
“I’ll be ready in 5, i’ll order an uber since I made us miss the bus.”
Santos hasn’t said a word, brows pinched as he stares at him.
He slings his bag over his shoulders, about to move past her into the hall when her hand catches on his shoulder, stopping him.
“What’s going on with you?” Her voice is clipped, with a barely contained fear in her tone.
“Wh…nothing? I’m—“
”Dennis.”
Everything stops for a moment, almost freezing around them besides their breathing.
He knows it’s an out. It’s an outstretched hand, offering help— he should take it, he knows he should.
Trinity’s eyes are wide, like she’s trying to keep tears from falling.
say something. You’re hurting her. Fucking say something—
His tongue feels too large in his mouth.
It’s the wall again.
He steadies his breath, putting a hand over Trinity’s.
“I’m okay, Trin. I just…” he grits his teeth. “I have a hard time…around this month. I promise I’ll be okay.” He smiles again, and he selfishly hopes it reaches his eyes.
she pauses, biting her cheek. “Yeah…yeah, okay.” She whispers, barely audible. “I’m here, if uh…things get bad. You know that.”
He does.
He just…can’t open his fucking mouth and speak.
“I do.”
She flashes a smile at him, and it’s one that actually meets her eyes.
He’s so fucking tired.
He lightly punches her in the arm as he passes her into the hall. “I’ll get the uber.”
***
The stairwell is colder than he remembers.
He’s sitting on the steps, the hum of lights a constant melody in the background.
He still has blood on his shoes, and he can’t take his eyes away.
***
Emma Harrison was admitted into the ED after falling from the railing of a 6th story building.
She was young.
Younger than him at only 17 years old.
His hands are shaking as he keeps chest compressions going.
She has blonde hair, it’s short, haloing around her head on the gurney.
She looks like h—
He makes a pained noise, biting it back as he shakes the thought from his mind.
“Whittaker, focus, keep those compressions the right tempo—“ someone says, but he can’t focus on trying to identify the voice right now.
Instead, he nods, trying to steady his breathing.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before that same voice calls out. “Hold compressions.”
Lifting his trembling hands, he already knows what he’s going to hear before the sound even reaches his ears.
His breath catches in his throat.
“Okay…call it.” The voice says, and it’s so distant now, far away from him. “Time of death, 5:43 PM.”
He doesn’t think he’s blinking as he looks at Emma, his own body leaving him, refusing him any control.
you did it again.
He can’t focus on anything other than the blonde hair, now stained with blood— the tube down her throat covering her face. was this how she looked…?
He doesn’t realize there are hands on his shoulders until he’s forced to look away by a face in front of his.
“-taker— Hey, kid!”
Robby looks…
Tired.
He blinks, finally, reinhabiting his own body again.
“I— I’m sorry, I don’t know…” he rips the gloves off his hands, all of a sudden the feeling of latex on skin overwhelming. He shakes out his wrist, breathing.
A gentle hand is guiding him to an empty room, clicking the door shut behind them.
He doesn’t look up from his shoes.
They’re stained red.
“Okay kid— talk to me.” Robby rubs a hand over his face, leaning against the wall opposite of him.
fuck.
“The…The patient had a spinal fracture th—“
Robby waves a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not asking about them, I'm asking about you, kid.”
He can feel the weight return;
It’s everywhere. It’s on his shoulders, keeping him bolted to the floor, it’s in his lungs, stopping them from sucking a full breath in—
“I’m okay—“ he breathes out, gripping his own wrist tightly to try and stop the tremors. “I’m just— I didn’t get enough sleep last night.
He knows it’s a terrible excuse, and looking at his attending, he knows it too.
Robby’s crossing his arms, face scrunched in the way it usually is when he’s trying to think of how to phrase something.
“I’m saying this…not to reprimand you— you’re not in any trouble—“ he sighs, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been off this past week. People are worried.”
Dennis takes a step back, flexing his hands.
”I’m—“
He swallows, keeping his breath steady.
He feels like he’s under a microscope; the thought that everybody can see what’s wrong with him, can tell what he’s done— it makes bile crawl up his throat.
Why can’t he just fucking speak?
Tell Doctor Robby what happened a few years back, the phone call from his parents back home—
what he did.
“Kid—“ robby breaks the silence in the room, reaching out before Dennis flinches away from the touch.
“It won’t affect my work, Doctor Robby. Just let me get through this shift.” His voice doesn’t sound like his own. It’s hollow and lifeless, like it’s being pulled from him.
”Whitaker—“
The door flies open suddenly, revealing a stressed Pearlah.
“Patient in 12 is seizing, we need you.” She gets out before rushing back the direction she came.
”fuck—“ he curses, going around him and out the door. “Come find me after this.” He calls over his shoulder to Dennis before he’s out of sight.
The door clicks shut behind him.
He sighs in relief, the breath shuddering in his chest once he’s alone in the room.
He doesn’t know what to do.
In a past life, he’d pray.
He’d kneel on this hospital floor, looking up to the fluorescent lights in the ceiling and ask for it to stop.
He’d beg for her to come back until his throat was raw, until he never could speak again— content to never to ask God for anything else, if he just granted him this one thing.
But the silence in the room is deafening, and there’s nothing holy in the flickering lights above him.
Instead, he clenches his jaw and closes his eyes as tightly as possible before leaving the room.
***
“You— you couldn’t save her…?”Mr. Harrison’s hands are clenched tight on the arm rests of the chair he’s sat in. His eyes are wide, voice trembling with unshed tears.
“I’m…I am so, so sorry, Mr. Harrison.” He steadies himself, keeping his voice as even and calm as possible.
Abbot is to Dennis’ left, head hung solemnly as he nods along to the younger man’s words. “We did everything we could to save your daughter, but the damage to her lungs and heart was—“
<“You— aren’t you a doctor?! you—“ Mr. Harrison snaps. Tears are rolling down the man’s face in droves now, teeth clenched. ”Why didn’t you—“
A desperate hand fists into the front of his scrubs, making him stumble as he’s pulled forward.
He hears Abbot yelling, trying to pry the other man away from him, but this close, all he can hear is—
”THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”
He can’t breathe.
He doesn’t even register the fact the hand gripping in his scrubs is gone before he’s running as fast as he can from the room, lungs burning in his chest.
He can hear voices calling for him, but he can’t stop—
His vision is blurring as he feels tears finally escaping his eyes.
***
He doesn’t remember coming to the stairs.
He thinks he blacked out, but he can’t bring himself to care.
His phone weighs heavily in his pocket, pinging with texts and phone calls he doesn’t move to answer.
You’re keeping them from people who need help.
He’s so heavy.
He’s worried he’ll never get back on his feet— that he’s never going to leave this stairwell.
Part of him wants to go home— like he’s a child feigning sleep so they’re carried to bed.
He wants—
”Why are you calling, Dennis?”
The hand holding his phone is shaking; he didn’t even realize he’d taken it from his pocket, let alone call—
“H…Hi mom.” He breathes, the tremors in his hand now making their way to his legs.
”Dennis.”
“Been…Been thinking of Gracie a lot today. I—“
He bites back a sob that threatens to rip itself from his throat. ”I saw a girl who looked…just like her.”
There’s a deep sigh from the other end.
”Don’t call us anymore, Dennis.”
The sudden click of the call disconnecting rings in his ear like a gun shot.
He drops his phone, his hands both too numb to hold anything.
Everything’s just… numb now.
***
Ripping the gloves from his hands, he exited Room 12, getting a bit of hand sanitizer as he left.
To his left, he sees Santos and Abbot talking in hushed, panicked whispers.
“He’s not answering any of my calls— He…” she cut herself off, hands tearing at her hair. “I shouldn’t have believed him this morning, I knew— I fucking knew something was wrong.”
Walking up, Robby looks between the two of them. “What happened?”
Santos turns away, pacing with a hand clasped over her mouth.
Abbot turns to him now, expression grim. “Whittaker and I told Mr.Harrison his daughter didn’t make it—“ he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face in exhaustion. “Grabbed the kid— said it was ‘all his fault.’”
Robby cursed, looking around the hall. “Where is he?”
“He bolted as soon as he got free— nobody can get in contact with him.”
Robby’s hands spasm before setting into fists. “Shit— okay, let’s—“
From behind him, he hears santos.
”Dennis, where are you right now?” her voice is thick with emotions, tears welling in her eyes.
She’s on her phone, both hands cradling it to her ear like she’s holding her friend close.
Her eyes flicker up to the two men, wide and horrified as tears finally fall. ”Dennis, don’t you fucking dare say shit like that to me—“ she lets out a sob, shaking her head. ”please— you can’t do this to me— to everybody, please— just let me come get you…!”
His heart sinks.
While Abbot gets closer to Santos to try and hear what’s being said over the call, Robby can feel his legs pick up into a desperate sprint.
He doesn’t even bother opening the stairway doors normally, opting to barrel right through them.
he’s on the fucking roof.
***
It’s cold today.
Beautiful, but cold.
He remembers a time when he was a child, when he woke up before anybody else, even his own parents.
The world was quiet outside— still.
He remembers waking Gracie up, to share it with her.
She leaped out of bed to follow him outside, looking at the colorful sky in awe.
Today reminds him of that morning.
His legs dangle off the edge of the building now—
He used to be so scared of heights. Even coming up here to get blood or a patient from a helicopter, it always made his knees weak.
He guesses he can’t be afraid to fall— it’s what he’s here for.
No point in being scared now.
He sighs, and his breath is taken away by the wind.
Behind him, he hears the gentle click of a door closing.
Please leave. Just let this happen.He feels the warmth of another person standing next to him without looking up.
“Hey, Dennis.” Robby says, like it’s normal.
He doesn’t reply— he doesn’t trust himself.
“Santos is looking for you, you know? You ran off.”
Silence.
Robby’s breath trembles in his chest. “Okay.” he chokes out, dipping under the railing and sitting next to Dennis.They sit like that, in silence, for a bit.
Ambulances below can be heard, car horns honking a few blocks away, the wind whipping in both their ears.
“Why today?”Robby’s voice is gentle, almost missed in the sounds around them.
“Why leave us today?”He blinks, and suddenly—
the dam breaks.He chokes on a horrified sob, muffling it with his hand.
Gentle hands are holding him now, dragging him away from the ledge, and he doesn’t fight them, he can’t. “It’s my fault— I shouldn’t have left her— I…!” He cries, held tightly in the other's arms. ”I’m sorry— I’m so fucking Selfish—! I-I just…”
Robby shushes him, petting his hair as he wails. ”Breathe— c’mon, Kid—“
He shakes his head, gripping at his own hair painfully.
“You don’t— I left her, Robby— I left her…!” He pushes against his attendings hold, trying in vain to pull away, uselessly hitting him in his chest.
“No—no, you’re not going anywhere, Den.” He holds on tighter, forcing his head against his chest. “Please, kid— I need you to breathe— you can tell me whatever the fuck you’re talking about after, but— fuck— just breathe.”
He doesn’t know how long they sit there for— the sound of Dennis’ choked off sobs and shaky breaths being the only thing he can focus on.
”Her name was Gracie…everybody just called her grace…” he breathes, face slack with exhaustion. ”but to me, she was Gracie.”
Robby nods, urging him to continue.
“I remember when she was born. She was so small. my mom was so happy to finally have a girl—“ he sniffs. “5 boys— she finally gets a girl.” his breath hiccups then, falling back into sobs.
The other man rubs a hand on his back, remaining silent.
“I— we were best friends…! Y’know— two youngest, the babies—“ he shrugs, hugging himself. “I—“
Dennis hung his head, cutting himself off.
“I was going to die if I stayed in that house.” he whispers, like he’s trying to convince himself.
”My— my parents were getting worse. Everytime I came home, I was so scared I’d never leave again.”
Robby flexes his hands, breathing through his nose to calm himself.
“W-whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him—“ Dennis chokes, clenching his jaw. ”It’s just how it was.” He shakes his head.
Sucking in another breath, closing his eyes. “I left with just a bag of my clothes and some cash I hid. I…I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even… I didn’t tell Gracie…”
His fist hits his leg, the pain grounding him, if only for a few seconds.
“Kid—“ Robby breathes, taking his wrist gently in his grip.
“I— I um…I got a call, my first year of school.” He bites his lip, keeping another sob at bay. “Gracie…”
Dennis clenches his jaw so hard he’s shaking, blinking as he looks up at the sky.
That beautiful fucking sky.
”She— hung herself in the barn.” His voice breaks, and his teeth chatter.
“I’m so sorry…” robby breathes, because that’s all he can do.
Dennis took a breath through his nose, steeling himself. “My dad gave me the news. Said… said I did this to her. That— that God was punishing the family for me leaving— for abandoning his teachings.”
He looks up at his attending, a smile on his face, not reaching his eyes. “He was right— I shouldn’t have left her. a-and now…” his voice trails off, eyes unfocused. ”And now it’s my fault she’s dead.”
He swallows the lump in his throat.
”today's the day she…” he wipes his face.
”today’s the day she died.”
Another beat of silence, and Robby is pulling him back into a hug.
It’s warm. It’s so much warmer than the wind on the roof.
“I’m so sorry, Dennis. I am…so fucking sorry, for all of it, kid.” He pets his hair as the sobs start again. “None of this should’ve ever happened to you— or Gracie.”
Robby breathes, trying to keep his voice calm.
“But you can’t carry this alone— It’s going to kill you, Whittaker. We can’t lose you, kid…you’re the fucking best of them. If you can’t believe me, then believe Santos— or Abbot, or Dana— but you need to know it.” He catches his breath, fighting back tears. “Not just as a doctor, but as a person, you are more than anybody could hope for.”
The door clicks open again, and while Robby turns to look, Dennis hides his face against the other man’s shoulder.
In the doorway, he can see Abbott opening the door so Santos can rush over to the two of them.
Trinity all but tears Dennis away from Robby in favor of holding onto him for dear life herself.
“What the fuck— jesus, what were you thinking, Den?” She sobs, hands grabbing at him and checking him over like she can’t even believe he’s still here
“I’m—“
“If you say ‘I’m okay’ I swear to fucking GOD—”
”I-I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry.” he sobs, falling into her hug as his hiccuping breath wracks his body.
Robby sits quietly, and on his right, he can see Jack approach softly.
“Good catch coming to the roof. I guess it takes one to know one.” he speaks under his breath to the other man, grunting as he sits next to him.
Robby shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “I don’t know how to fix this— to help him.” He breathes, head in his hands.
A hand is on his shoulder, grounding him.
“Nobody ever knows.” He shrugs. “But right now? He needs people that care about him.”
Looking over again, it seems Dennis has fallen asleep from exhaustion in Trinity’s arms, his hair still being pet.
“He has that.”