Chapter Text
“He lost his heart, ya know.”
“Huh?”
Dennis was standing at the hub, looking down at his patient’s chart, when he heard Dana repeat,
“He lost his heart, what, ya got wax in ya ears?” Her accent tended to get heavier by the end of shift, but he still didn’t understand what she meant.
“He’s just... tired. We all are, it’s the end of a long day, long week...” Dennis sighed, “Long month, honestly...” He placed the tablet in its charging station, thinking of what he needed to do next.
Turning quickly from the hub towards another patient’s room, he tried to breathe through the hurt and frustration from his interaction with Robby.
“I expect more from my interns, Whitaker.” He had said harshly, under his breath.
Mistakes, misunderstandings, miscommunications – they were a part of working in a fast-paced and oftentimes harsh environment. It didn’t mean that the consequences were any less detrimental. Dennis was trying to accept the mistake, to learn from it, and to breathe through the anger at himself, when he got to his patient’s bed. Sighing, he passed through the privacy curtain and began with a cheerful,
“Hello, it’s Dr. Whitaker again, I’ve got some good news and some bad news...” He moved through the motions of sanitizing his hands, logging into the bedside computer, looking over the information he had already confirmed at the hub. He felt himself go into autopilot, the small shrug and smile he would give to patients to seem empathetic, understanding. Nodded along, pantomiming care and patience. He waited until a lull to inform the patient that they were able to be discharged,
Yes, it was nice meeting you as well, just stay hydrated and keep taking Advil or Tylenol for the pain as prescribed,
No, I’m sure something stronger would not benefit you, in fact probably returning to normal levels of activity is recommended,
Yes, yes, I’m sure,
Okay, you too,
Bye, take care.
His smile dropped as soon as he stepped out of the small enclosed space, the curtain whooshing back behind him.
His face was sore from faking smiles, his eyes were dry from the recycled air and staring at screens, and his back was tight from standing for hours on end in cheap shoes. He walked over to a nearby work station, grateful for the empty office chair, and tried to finish charting before he was meant to leave for the day.
He had that uncanny ability people gain from growing up in certain families, quickly registering the gait of people around him. Without looking up, he said,
“Everything alright, Javadi?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Um, I wanted to ask a quick question about this patient...”
He blinked, and looked up from his monitor. She rarely had questions about patients, but had been getting into the habit of double (or quadruple) checking her work since the shift they were forced to go analog. He didn’t want to mention it, unsure if it was overstepping. Her confidence seemed to be returning slowly, at the very least. The question was valid, the patient had an odd combination of symptoms, and he was able to steer her in the right direction.
He turned back towards his screen.
Time passed without him realizing, and this time, a very familiar set of steps approached him,
“I know, I’m almost done, I’ll be outside in twenty.” He said, bored and barely holding in a yawn.
“I’m leaving in twenty, with or without you.” Santos threatened, then knocked twice on the tabletop, her way of saying See ya.
She wouldn’t leave, but he also didn’t want to find out if today was the day she wasn’t bluffing.
Saving his work and exiting his virtual workspace, he realized how stiff he was from sitting for so long. Groaning, he stretched his arms above his head, then yanked his scrub top down when he felt it rise. Rubbing his eyes, he walked quickly over to the lockers, trying to think of what he and Santos could have for dinner tonight.
Soup? No, had that yesterday...
What’s in the freezer? No, I want something with a crunch...
He kept thinking to himself, lost in thought, carefully unlacing his cheap sneakers, putting them in his locker, and retrieving his outdoor shoes. They were sturdier, better for walking, and had the benefit of being relatively warm in sometimes unpredictable weather. He stood up, and almost jumped back, having not realized someone was waiting to speak with him.
“You heading out?” Robby asked, shouldering his backpack. He was looking down at his phone, wearing his reading glasses but still squinting down at the overly bright screen.
“Y-yep.” Dennis replied, wondering why he didn’t hear his attending. Must be more tired than he thought.
“I’ll walk with you. Headed that way.”
“Uh, sure. I’m just, Santos drove today, thought it would rain, but...” He smiled, not unlike the one he was giving to patients today. It didn’t reach his eyes.
Robby didn’t answer, just stared down at him, eyebrow raised. Dennis pressed his lips together, hoping his prayers would be answered one day and they would be permanently glued shut.
He grabbed his things and began walking towards the parking garage. Robby kept pace, and said,
“Everything alright at home, between you and Santos?”
“Yeah, things are fine.”
“No... issues?”
“No.”
“What about that... Amy?”
Dennis felt his eye twitch.
“I haven’t seen or spoken to Mrs. Miller in a few months, sir.” He replied, a bit curt. He tried not to mention that was around when Robby went on his ill fated, short lived motorcycle trip. A month had passed, Dennis was back to living at Trinity’s full-time, Amy was a blocked number on his phone, and Robby returned with a sunburn on the back of his neck and barely a helmet tan line. He claimed the early return was due to boredom, but Dennis doubted that.
“Right, right.” Robby sighed, then asked, “So, what’s, the uh, the plans then? For the fall?”
Dennis could barely control his face from making the same confused and mildly disgusted look he gave Trinity when she asked if he was going to make “Hawaiian Haystacks” one night.
They’re Mormon, like you!
I’m not Mormon... and what the Hell are in those ugh...
You’re not Mormon?
No, I just grew up weird in a different but similar way.
Could’ve fooled me.
They settled on grilled cheese sandwiches and canned tomato soup that night.
“The fall?” He decided to ask, trying to remain neutral. His walk to the garage never felt longer.
“Yeah, don’t people go... out? See the leaves? Camp?” Dennis could see the door now, and he wondered if they were the fated pearly gates to heaven.
“Did you drive in today, sir?” Dennis asked, hoping the conversation would either fizzle out, or end abruptly. He had reached his limit for small talk, and just wanted to return to the peace and quiet of his own room.
“N-yes. Yes, I did. Just parked a bit, over there, but I see Dr. Santos is waiting for you, have a good night you two,” Robby waved at Santos, who was sitting with a confused smile and furrowed brows, watching the pair walk towards her car.
Dennis had never been more grateful to see her barely functioning Pontiac Sunfire.
He shot out a quick, “Bye!” before sliding into the passenger seat and slamming his door shut. He let out a deep breath, and buckled his seat belt.
“Explain.” Trinity asked, turning the car back on, and beginning their short ride home.
“You notice he’s a bit... weirder? After his trip?”
“Yeah, a little. Isn’t that like a thing, mid-life crisis?”
“No, well, maybe. Not sure, don’t they do more like outward changes?”
“What, like going to Turkey and getting hair plugs?”
Dennis huffed a small laugh, and said, “No, well, maybe. I’m sure that would’ve been more obvious... He’s just...” He couldn’t find the words to describe this change in his attending. It wasn’t necessarily positive or negative, it was just noticeably different.
“You think he got abducted by aliens?”
“Like, replaced, or experimented on?”
“Both, maybe they fucked him, got him pregnant, and he gave birth to his carbon copy.” She was smiling, looking over at Dennis at the red light.
Dennis laughed, and answered, “Dude, I have no fucking clue.”