Work Text:
It was dark and cold, the sun having set hours ago. Seven pm in January meant dangerous conditions: icy roads, freezing temps, and little light to see by. Dennis was making his way carefully home in the dark, choosing to walk to save money. It wasn’t too far fortunately, about forty-five minutes, but the wind chill and sub-freezing weather had him shivering and pulling his thin coat tighter around himself.
He tended to keep to the main roads, trying to stay in the soft light of the streetlamps, but on a cold night like this, he decided maybe he should take a short cut. There was a park close to the hospital that he usually went around, which added about ten minutes to his walk. He steeled his resolve, looking into the darkness, and started walking.
He was only a few minutes in when he noticed someone ahead of him step onto the path. They walked in front of him at a leisurely pace, like they had all the time in the world. Dennis slowed down slightly, trying to maintain his distance. He was so busy focused on the person in front of him, he didn’t notice the body behind him.
“Hey kid, where you going?” A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. It squeezed tightly, controlling, forcing him to stop. He looked up and behind him at the man who stopped him. He had a gray hoodie on with the hood up, covering most of his face.
“Uh, just home after work.” Dennis managed to say, trying to keep his voice level. He looked around frantically and noticed the person who was in front of him had turned around and started walking his way. He felt a deep pit form in his stomach. The hand on his shoulder moved to grab one of the straps of his backpack.
“You work at that hospital, right?” The man walking towards him stopped in front of him. He had a face mask and a hat on; his clothes looked dirty and worn, about as thin as Dennis’s own. Dennis didn’t know what to do, so he simply nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
“I heard doctor’s make good money.” The man leaned down into Dennis’s face. The hand on his backpack began trying to pull it off.
Panic bubbled up in him. Almost everything he owned was in his backpack: expensive textbooks, countless notebooks, his wallet with his last five dollars.
“I’m not a doctor! Just a med student!” Dennis clung to his backpack, holding the straps tightly, trying to keep it on as best he could. “Please, I promise! I’m completely broke!” Dennis looked at the man in front of him. He couldn’t read the expression on his face.
The blow was swift, a fist colliding with his gut. He let out an ‘oof!” and doubled over, still holding his backpack. A hand went to the back of his head and fisted his hair hard, pulling.
Something in Dennis snapped. He lunged forward, wrenching free of the man behind him and tackling the one in front.
“What the fuck!” One of them shouted; he wasn’t sure which. He was just desperate to get out of this situation. Before he could get up to run, he was yanked back but his bag. He fell on his ass hard and a foot connected with the side of his head. He tried to scramble away but another kick connected with his side. He collapsed, curling in on himself. He brought his arms up and covered his head, trying to protect himself.
Blows started to rain down. Kick after kick, hit after hit, he curled in as tight as he could until a hand found his head again and pulled. He brought his hands up to try and free his hair and a foot connected straight to his face. Blood filled his mouth and nose, an awful ‘crunch’ sound filling his ears.
He felt himself get pulled up and he kicked hard, connecting with something soft. There was a grunt, and then another hit to his gut. He felt his backpack start to slide off, and he swung wildly, hitting someone again. He heard the awful crunch again, but this time from behind him. He hand holding him dropped him and he stumbled, unable to catch himself, he hit the ground.
“You little bitch!” Another very hard kick to his stomach, and he felt himself throwing up. Bile, blood, and whatever sandwich he had pilfered earlier coming up. He tried to look around, tried to call for help, to do anything, but his vision was starting to get fuzzy. Blood was roaring in his ears, drowning out the world around him. He tried to curl up again, but gasped and stopped when a searing pain blossomed in his chest. He took a few staggering breaths, trying to stay conscious.
He thought he heard someone shouting. He tried to focus on the sound, but it only made the roaring in his ears louder. A hand landed on his shoulder and tried to roll him over. He flinched, trying to get away. They let go, but came back quickly, beginning to dig into his jacket pocket.
“Wha-” Dennis tried to stop them, but they pulled his phone from his pocket. He felt hot tears spring to life in his eyes, making everything even more blurry than before. There was a tinge of black creeping in now.
Someone was talking again, and they tried to roll him over. Dennis realized he was too tired to fight it anymore; he rolled over onto his back. ‘I still have my backpack,’ he thought to himself. He tried to look around, but it was getting darker and darker by the second. There was someone standing over him. It looked like they were on the phone. He knew he should stay awake, that he should try to get out of there, but it was like he had no control over his body. He closed his eyes instead.
**
There was a bright light shining in his eyes. Dennis groaned and turned his head, trying to bring his hands up and cover his face. There was a lot of shouting now. He could tell there were hands all over him, moving and stabilizing him. He felt something tight slip around his neck, preventing him from being able to turn it. He tried to move his arms again, but someone was holding him down.
“Shh, it’s okay. We’re gonna take care of you.” A woman’s voice, comforting, drifted into his ears. He stopped trying to struggle and let himself be moved. The light came back to his eye, then the other. He tried his best not to flinch but couldn’t really help it. It started to get dark again.
“Dennis!” Someone was shouting. There was a sharp pain on his sternum, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He let it get dark again.
It was now very, very, bright. He wanted to shield his eyes again, but his arms felt like lead. He settled for groaning instead. A fuzzy shape appeared in his vision, looking down at him.
“Whitaker? C’mon, Whitaker, talk to me!” The voice sounded so familiar. Dennis tried to place it, but there was a horrible beeping nearby that drowned out any thoughts he had. He wanted so badly to answer though. Like he would do anything that voice told him to.
“Can’t...” He managed to grit out. He closed his eyes again, trying to block out the light.
“None of that Dennis!” A hand grabbed his face, and a bright light flashed in his eye again, making him flinch and whimper, trying to pull away. The beeping was getting louder and louder, becoming the only thing he could hear, he could feel. He let it lull him away.
**
The beeping was much quieter now. It was soft and steady, at an easy pace. His left hand felt warm and heavy. His eyes were still too heavy to open, and he let himself sleep again.
The beeping was still there, still the same, but a little louder now. Like he was lifting his head from underwater and could suddenly hear clearly. He let it rouse him from sleep, shifting slightly.
He felt something tighten around his hand and heard a soft gasp. Someone was moving nearby, and a soft hand rested on his head.
“Dennis?” There was that voice again, but he knew who it belonged to this time. He opened his eyes and looked at Dr. Robby, concern etched into every part of his body. The way Robby had his hand on his head, lightly brushing his curls, he knew he was dreaming. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes again. He left out a soft hum. He heard Robby’s breath hitch a little, and he sat down again, never letting go of his hand and head.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Robby was whispering, his thumb making small circles on the back of his hand. Dennis kept his eyes closed and hummed again.
“You didn’t.” He sounded nasally. He scrunched up his face and pain shot through it. He gasped, bringing his free hand up to his face. There was a splint on his nose.
“Oh.” Was all he could say. He pulled his arm back to look at it in the dim lighting, and saw it was covered in wraps and bandages. There was a large cut that had stitches in it. He looked to his left and it wasn’t much better, the view only improved by Dr. Robby’s hand on his. Dennis gave his hand a squeeze, slowly realizing this wasn’t a dream.
“Do you remember what happened?” Dennis thought back to his day. Work, cold, shortcut...
He grimaced, the memory flooding back. Dennis shot up and pain exploded across his chest.
“Whoa! Not so fast!” Robby stood up, placing his hands on Dennis’s shoulders, pushing him back down.
“My backpack!” He tried to protest, tried to look around.
“It’s okay kid, we’ve got it.” Robby kept his left hand on his right shoulder and brought his right hand up to cup his left cheek, leaning over him. It was Dennis’s turn for his breath to hitch, and the heart monitor sped up slightly as he made eye contact with Robby. He looked confused and concerned. Hearing he still had his backpack though made him instantly relax, leaning back onto the bed.
“Some guys tried to take my bag.” Dennis felt the hand on his shoulder tightened slightly.
“And?” There was tension in Robby’s voice, the hand leaving his face to grab his shoulder again.
“And they kicked my ass.” Dennis chuckled a little, but Robby’s grip wrapped around his hospital gown.
“Did you fight them over your backpack?” Dennis could hear the anger in Robby’s voice, and he opened his eyes again, confused.
“Uh, yeah?” Dennis could almost feel the rage radiating off Robby.
“Why?” He looked at Robby and felt himself start to shrink. His eyes started to burn.
“M-my whole life is in it basically. All of my n-notes and t-textbooks.” He felt a fat tear fall down his cheek. “My wallet... I don’t have the money to replace everything.” Saying it out loud brought more tears. The hands on his gown tightened again before Dennis was suddenly enveloped in a hug, one of Robby’s hands behind his head, the other around his waist. Dennis clung to him, wrapping his arms around his neck. He let out a chocked sob and buried his face in Robby’s neck. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Robby gently running his fingers through his hair. Dennis’s breath evened and he felt Robby loosen his grip so he could look into his face.
Robby looked sad, his fingers still carding through Dennis’s hair. Dennis had to look away, or those sad eyes would bore a hole straight through him.
“I’m sorry.” Dennis whispered it, almost hoping Robby wouldn’t hear. The huff from above told him he had.
“You don’t have to apologize for getting mugged, Dennis.” Robby chided him, finally sitting back down in his chair. He went back to just holding Dennis’s hand and rubbing small circles on it. “Next time, just let them have it and I’ll replace everything.” Dennis let out a snort and then winced, remembering his broken nose.
“I couldn’t ask you-”
“Not asking, I’m telling.” Robby cut him off with a glare, and Dennis could only nod. Robby’s shoulder’s suddenly slumped and he leaned over, placing his forehead on the bed next to Dennis’s hand. Dennis instinctively brought his other hand over to rest on Robby’s head, lightly patting it. Robby huffed out a small laugh before squeezing his hand again.
“I was walking out the door when EMS rolled up and pulled you out.” Robby was whispering, and Dennis had to strain a little to hear him. “I thought you were-” Robby cut himself off and took a deep breath.
“Oh.” Dennis continued to lightly pet Robby’s head, trying to keep his own breath even.
“Multiple skin lacs, broken nose, fractured orbital, severe concussion, broken ribs, pierced lung-” Robby swallowed a sound, and Dennis realized he was trying not to cry. He brought his hand down to cup Robby’s cheek, forcing him to look at him. His eyes were wet and pained, his cheeks flushed.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” Dennis wiped a stray tear from Robby’s cheek with his thumb. Over the course of their conversation, the room had gone almost completely dark, the sun fully setting. Dennis was vaguely aware that meant it had been at least a day.
Robby stood up and leaned close to his face. Dennis kept his hand on his face, bringing his other hand up to the back of Robby’s neck. Robby hesitated, his face hovering over Dennis’s, searching his eyes. Dennis gave a small nod.
And then Robby was kissing him. It was gentle and soft, almost like their hushed whispers. It was only a few seconds, but it was enough for Dennis. He smiled and leaned back against the pillows. Robby chuckled quietly, letting Dennis sink back.
“You should get some more sleep.” Robby said. Dennis could already feel his eyes drooping as Robby was standing up. Dennis grabbed his hand, holding him there.
“You’ll stay, won’t you?” He asked, gripping Robby tightly and giving him a pleading look. Robby quickly sat back down, bringing a hand back to his head.
“Yeah, yes. Of course I’ll stay.” Robby was gently rubbing his head again, and Dennis leaned in, relaxing into his touch. He gave a contented sigh, before falling asleep again.
“Sleep well, Dennis.” Robby whispered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand.