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The shift ended with Robby as a patient.
In a bed, IV in, EKG hooked up. A shift he wasn’t supposed to be there for..it was a day off after three 12s.. But Shen called in, no attending would be there for the day, and he couldn't bring himself to make Jack work a double.
So he dragged his ass out of bed. Maybe a mistake.
Halfway through the day, he could tell his temperature had started spiking. Well, at least he can take a day off tomorrow now; he just needs to get through this one.
Easier said than done, apparently.
The day was crazy, and it caught up to him in the middle of a GSW case. Massive Haemorrhage Protocol needed to be activated. But they got him stable…ish enough to get up to the OR.
The adrenaline of a high-risk patient and calls got him through the work before he really felt how bad his fever was. At his desk, charting the case, he knew he needed to get some water and find an on-call room to crash in, just for 30 minutes.
Dana was next to him when he shoved off from his chair… looking wobbly and pale.
“Cap’t… you ain’t looking so hot,” Dana said, worry in her voice, getting up from her desk and putting her hand on his shoulder.
“I just need to lie down for a bit… I’ll be back,” Robby replied, trying to shake off her hand and concern. Using the desk as support while trying—and failing—to quickly get out of central.
“Yeah, not happening, hotshot.” Easily seeing he was already out of it. She looked around, noticing Whitaker helping stock a crash cart.
“Whitaker!” Dana exclaimed across the floor.
He quickly turned around, eyes wide, always ready to answer whatever Dana needed.
His eyes went even wider when he saw Dr Robby. Pale, shaking, and sweating.
“Big guy ain’t feeling too well. Come help me throw his ass into a bed,” she said, beckoning her head.
This made Robby’s already elevated heart rate shoot up even more. He couldn’t have the R1 he has been harbouring a pathetic crus-.....his very talented and professional R1 come and see him in this state.
Robby’s head shot up. “No, no…It’s fine. I’m fine,” fully pushing away from Dana and taking a few shaky steps away. “I’ll be back soon, just lemme….let me..I’ll be...”
The pathetic few steps he managed to take were too much for his fever-rattled brain. And all of Robby came tumbling over, ending with a solid smack on the floor.
Fuck. So much for not wanting Whitaker to see him.
Through blurry vision, he saw Dana crouch in front of him. Well, he will take that nap now, letting his eyes finally close.
Robby woke up with what felt like a bad headache and a bad hangover. In a hospital bed…not an on-call room bed. Ah shit.
He groaned, looking around, trying to take in his surroundings. He saw Dana typing at the computer. Glasses on, looking serious.
She must have felt his eyes on her, because she looked up at him. With a slightly cocky smile.
“Well, well. Look who's back from his nap”
“Ugh, why do I feel like shit. I need to get up. Who’s on the floor? What traumas came in” Rattling off all the questions that came rushing to his mind.
When he tried to push himself up, Dana came over and pushed him back down into the bed. Which is when he noticed he had Electrodes on his chest and an IV in his arm. Twisting his head up, he saw he was getting fluids pumped in.
“Dana, it's just a fever, I swear”
“I know. And you're lucky it is. But I wanted to be safe rather than sorry. Your heart rate was tachy, fluids for dehydration. And you smacked your thick skull earlier. No concussion. You're lucky, again.” She said with some sarcasm, mixed with actual concern.
Dana adjusted the bed so he could sit up and feel a bit more human-like.
He would take the same precautions for anyone else. But he still felt annoyed and embarrassed.
There was a knock, and the door opened. Dr King slipped into the room.
“Oh, Dr Robby! You’re looking better! Fevers sure can suck. Ya know, they say to put onions on your feet. I once had a patient come in with a load of onions in his shoes”
Dr King was going to keep going before Dana cut her off.
“Dr King. What can we do for you?”
“Oh, right! I just wanted to let you know the night shift is here and is ready for handoff”
Night shift? What fucking time was it? He looked up at the clock on the wall.
Well shit. Looks like the fever really had him out for that day.
“Thanks, kiddo, I’ll be out in a bit” Dana smiled while Dr King slipped back out the door.
Before it closed, Jack slipped in. Oh brother.
“Dr Robinavitch!” Jack said, shaking his head with a few tsk tsk tsk on the end of his full last name. “I thought a senior attending would know not to push himself working if he had a fever. Hm, must’ve missed that training day, hm?” Sauntering over to him with a smirk.
“Yeah, yeah. I didn't want to call your sorry ass in. I thought I was fine…enough. But. My bad,” Robby confessed with a smile to his best friend.
“It’s fine brother. Shen can cover for you while you rest up at home for a bit. And you're fine enough to go home tonight. Remember, you will not be my patient. You can finish getting over this at your own home,” Jack said with kind eyes and a quick squeeze to his shoulder.
“Dana, can you get him ready and kick him out? Or I can send in a night shift nurse if you wanna take off? Don’t worry about handover, we've got it sorted.”
“I got it. I’ll get one last set of vitals for his chart and make sure he makes it out of here.” Robby tries to speak up. “Get out of here in an Uber, you're not getting on that deathtrap of yours. It will be here when you get back,” Dana says, before he can even get a word in. Reading his mind.
“Yeah, fine…” Robby sighed.
Jack headed over to the door. “Thanks, Dana. I’ll get back out there. Feel better brother. Send me a text when you get home.” Jack said, pointing at Robby while sliding out the door.
“Will do, thanks, Jack. And make sure you tell Shen I said thanks also.”
“You got it” Jack said with a wink, closing the door and stepping into whatever night shift madness was waiting for him. Robby wished he could get into the madness, even with how tired he was. ER cowboy, or something like that.
“Ok, one last set of vitals and you are outta here”, Dana said.
She checked his breath sounds before going over to the computer, looking up at his vital signs monitor, and writing them down. Looked all normal to him. Well, high temp, but to be expected.
The door opened again. Well, more bursts opened.
“Dr Robby!”
Dennis.
Whitaker entered the room, closing the door behind him, with a smile on his face. He quickly came and pulled over a stool to sit next to him.
“God, I’m glad you’re ok! You looked pretty bad earlier. I thought for sure you would have had a concussion. But pupils equal and reactive, I checked! I just ran into Dr Abbott, he said you can go home tonight, that's great! It would suck to be stuck here.
Oh, and I heard from upstairs that the GSW from this morning is out of surgery and is actually stable in the ICU! Which feels pretty crazy considering the amount of blood he lost down here. It felt like Trauma 2 was being cleaned up all day. The rest of the day was somehow slow, though! I still missed you, even with the boring cases!” Whittaker rambled on. Just talking about his day.
Ah, yeah, this man will be the death of him for real. Robby kept looking at Dennis, just talking about mundane cases.
How can someone look so cute talking? Even with the harsh hospital lighting, the kid somehow managed to look like the sun was following him around, encasing him with warmth.
Robby let himself smile, looking in his eyes. Eye bags not as prominent as usual. Must have been an actual slow day.
“...getting home?” Robby snapped out of his sad yearning trance when he noticed Dennis asked him an actual question.
“Uh, what? Sorry.”
“I said, how are you getting home? You're not riding your…”
“No, he’s not. He’s getting an Uber, or sitting his ass down in a wheelchair, and we’ll sling him across the bridge. His choice,” Dana cut Dennis off.
Dana walked over and got the electrodes off his chest. Coming over to his other side to take his IV out.
“Well, I think I will take the Uber, might take the wheelchair next week though,” Robby said, shooting Dennis a smile. Dennis let out a little laugh…cute.
“And you are good to go Robby,” Dana said, finishing typing up what he assumed was his chart.
“Thank you, Dana, and you also, Dennis.” Robby said, sitting up fully and swinging his legs over to the side where Dennis was. Oh, right, he is supposed to be saying Dr Whittaker. What a normal attending says to their residents. He looked up at Dennis, Dr Whittaker, who had wide eyes and a blush going over his ears.
“Let me get out of your way then!” going over to the door, awkwardly bumping into some stuff. “Um, I'll see you when you get back! I hope you take time off! Uh, I won’t mess anything up while you’re gone, swear! Uh yeah, see ya, Dr Robby..Dana” Whittaker said through awkward laughs and breaths before sneaking out and closing the door behind him.
Dana looked over with an eyebrow raised.
“What?”
“Oh nothing..did you happen to have a small heart attack the last five minutes? Feeling ok? Captain,” Dana said with a clear mocking tone.
“No, Dana, I am fairly confident I did not have a heart attack. What makes you say that?” Robby asked, afraid of where this could be going.
“Well, I’m no doctor. But your resting heart rate was normal… but then it really shot up. Ah yeah, look, over 100,” Dana said, looking at the computer, glasses on her nose.
“Normal enough. Well, I'd better get going and everything.” Robby stood fully up, testing a few steps. Feeling normal enough, he stopped his shoes along the wall, slipping them on and heading towards the door.
“Yeah, normal, of course. I just find it..I don’t know..odd, that it shot up when Whittaker entered the room, and stayed elevated the whole time.. Before he came in, it was totally normal with Abbott and Mel. Strange, isn’t it, Doctor?” Dana said.
Robby looked to his right as he was about to reach for the Door, letting his arm fall back to his side. Dana glanced over to him, eyebrows raised, lips pursed, trying to hold back a smile.
“I suppose that does sound strange. I will be sure to contact you or Jack if I notice any signs of arrhythmia tomorrow,” he tried to say in the most clinical way he could.
Dana let out a chuckle. “You do that…see ya later, tiger”
Robby quickly opened the door, shutting it behind him.
Fuck, he needed some sleep.
After grabbing his stuff from his locker, giving Jack a pat on the back, he headed out. Taking his phone out from his pocket, ready to order an Uber. No way he could actually ride his bike home without Jack or Dana finding out.
He looked up from his phone when he saw Whittaker sitting on a bench by the entrance.
“Whittaker!” he called out.
Dennis’s head shot up, looking over at him. Robby walked over, sitting next to the kid on the bench. “What are you still doing here? Santos still inside?” he asked.
“Oh, no! She left already!” Dennis said.
“She left you here? Damn, harsh. You're not walking, are you?...Or are you waiting for, uh, someone?” Robby asked nervously.
Shit, it was a Friday night. He was probably waiting for some buff Ortho doctor to come take him out or something.
“Yeah! I was waiting for...um, you.”
“Me?” Robby said, shocked.
“Yeah, uh, you um always talk about never cooking for yourself or having ingredients. And I mean, you're sick, you can’t just have a coffee and a shitty protein bar. Growing up, my mom always made a really good chicken soup when my brothers and I got sick. I swear it worked better than the Tylenol now.
I thought I could come and um make it for you! I’ll go to the store, of course! I can make a big pot, so you have lots! You won’t get better fast if you’re not eating proper. I’m off tomorrow, so it’s um not problem..” Dennis said nervously, looking down at the ground, picking at the skin around his nails.
Robby stared directly at his side profile. Mouth slightly open.
“You want to…come over to my house, at 8 pm on a Friday to…make me..uh soup?” Robby got out.
Dennis head shot up, looking over at him, eyes wide.
“Hearing you say that sounds so stupid, actually. I’m so sorry, Dr Robby,” Dennis stood up, looking away from him again. “Please forget I said that, like forever. Um, I’ll see you when you're back. Feel better,” Dennis quickly said, about to step away and walk to who knows where to get away from Robby.
Maybe it was the slightly elevated temp, or the lingering headache from hitting his head. But Robby’s hand shot out, gripping tightly over Dennis’s forearm.
When Dennis stopped trying to walk and looked back, with those gorgeous, kind eyes, he loosened his grip, letting his hand slide down to his small wrist.
“I think..I would really like that…Dennis,” Robby said with a small smile.
“Oh!”
“You’re right, I have shit all for food at home. And I’m sure a Whittaker family recipe could cure a dead man. I ordered an Uber, if you want to catch it with me”
Maybe Dana was right, maybe he is having a Dennis-induced heart attack, cause damn it feels like it's about to pound out of his chest.
“Yeah! I can do that. I, uh, hope I can make it to expectations now haha..” Dennis said with a nervous laugh.
Robby looked at the phone in his other hand; the Uber was about to arrive.
He stood up, “Oh, I’m sure it will exceed.”
He walked close to Dennis, noticing he was still gripping his wrist.
Ah fuck it, he could have had a near-death experience today, or something. What if he happened to fall on a bunch of freshly dropped scalpels? He for sure is not getting younger.
He let his hand fall lower, slipped his fingers between Dennis’s own cold ones. “Uber is here.”
Dennis quickly looked down at their hands and then back up at Robby.
“No?” Robby said, now nervous he majorly fucked up.
“Yes! I mean, yes. Yes, this is, um, yeah, good.” Dennis words came tumbling out, with a smile on his lips. His other hand came over to cover his mouth as he nervously cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile. A blush going from his ears to across his cheeks.
“Good. Let’s go,” Robby said, starting to walk over to the road, pulling Dennis along with him, hands still intertwined. “Though I am dead on my feet, and you’re also right about me having no ingredients. The store is right around the corner from me. You can take my card and go crazy”
“Will do! How’s your spice tolerance? I think if it's spicer, it will work faster,” Dennis went on about soup ingredients as they walked away together from the ED, into the chilly night.
Maybe he should get sick more often. Dennis-induced arrhythmia seemed like the perfect cure for a fever.