Chapter Text
Dennis had once again had a shift from hell.
But then again, weren’t they all that way?
It contained all one could imagine; a patient coming in and immediately announced brain-dead, a patient that got spooked and tried hitting staff, including Dennis, a patient that was shamelessly flirting with Dennis, and on top of it all a child they couldn’t save.
And Dennis was tired. So tired. But even more so, he was hungry. A vampire, clean of human blood right from the source since the night he turned, hadn’t fed for almost a week now. He had to be careful with stealing the blood bags, and the whole week made him too tired to hunt for squirrels or the like.
So that night, after his shift, he meant to snag a blood bag, slip away to the refrigerator and steal one or two bags. It was always a risk. But he wasn’t hurting anyone directly. If he got caught, well…it wouldn't be ideal, but it wouldn’t necessarily expose the vampirism and he’d just have to move away, study somewhere else.
He had all eternity to live, or so it seems since he hasn’t aged since he was 17, so at least he had no time to lose. But in the few months he has spent on his ER rotation, he has made friends that he’d rather not lose by making them think he had some kind of…blood drinking fetish?
Okay. Now the day was getting to him. He’s been doing this since his first rotation. No one will find out.
He was now standing at the lockers with Trinity, who was currently complaining about a patient. Sometimes he thought about telling her. They’d already shared almost everything about their lifes, good and bad, and he so desperately wished to tell someone. But that just wouldn’t work. Not yet, nor anytime soon. Maybe some day.
“-ello? Earth to Huckleberry?” he heard her voice, filtering through his thoughts and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Trin…long day. You know, I think imma walk home tonight. Get some fresh air,” he told her, making sure there was one less person to worry about for his oncoming blood heist.
She nodded and pulled on her jacket. “Sure, whatever. Just don’t get run over, Huckleberry” she quipped, before bumping his hip with her own and leaving the PTMC through the waiting room.
He smiled fondly before grabbing his bag and heading through the ER, taking the long way to the ERs own blood bank. He passed a nurse, gloves covered in blood and had to take a pause in his steps, closing his eyes and holding his breath to not smell the sweet blood. It had been longer than he should’ve waited and he really has to get some blood now, before he starts spiraling.
Just as he opened his eyes and meant to continue his walk to the blood bank, he locked eyes with Doctor Robby, who looked to have had the same hell of a day as Dennis. And now he was approaching. Fucking great.
Dennis smiled half-heartedly as Robby stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak. “You’re still here, Whitaker,” he said softly, tilting his head to the side. Like a dog Dennis thought, and immediately scrapped that thought. “Uh, yeah. Just um…I’m not in a big hurry, is all,” he answered, nodding to himself as he felt he sounded convincing.
Robby nodded, chuckling softly. “I think you’re the only one, kid. I can’t wait to get out of here after today,” he said softly, putting his hands in his pockets while looking around the ER, then back at Whitaker. He looked at his tight grip on his backpack, then the not so relaxed expression on the student's face. “You okay?” he asked.
Dennis perked up, smiling and shrugging. “Oh yeah, no worries. Just tired,” he said, which wasn't a lie, but also not why he acted like he did. Robby smiled back but he wasn’t happy with the answer. He couldn’t say why, but he felt like there was something Whitaker wasn’t telling him.
“Just making sure. But I think we all are pretty tired. Should I uh…give you a ride?” he asked, voice as gentle as it seemed to only get with one particular student doctor. Whose hands were by the way getting a little sweaty. He just wanted to get his fill and go home.
Instead, he shook his head. “Oh, no, I’m okay. I was gonna walk home, just to…get some fresh air,” he said just like he did to Santos. And as much as Dennis loved spending time with Robby…the veins on his neck started looking just a little too nice. “So I uh…should probably get going,” he concluded, getting restless where he was standing.
And if that didn’t make Robby even more suspicious. He narrowed his eyes slightly, then nodded. “Right, of course. Just…you can always talk to me, okay? Or anyone else if you’d rather that,” he offered and Dennis nodded immediately.
“Yes, thank you, sir. So…have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dennis said, a little too rushed, and then he started walking away, not waiting for a response. He wandered towards the exit before making a turn and getting back on course to the blood bank.
He finally got there, looking around before going into the walk-in refrigerator. Dennis was technically dead, or so he concluded from the movies, and his skin was always cold so that didn’t bother him as he opened multiple cooling boxes to check how it would be less noticeable when he took a bag or two.
AB-negative was pretty stocked up, so he took two packs and put them in his backpack. But just when he was considering taking yet another blood bag to store in his mini-fridge at home, the door opened behind him and Dennis froze. Holy fucking shit. Only the whole world ending could fix this fuck-up of a day.
The door fell shut again and Whitaker slowly turned around, his eyes meeting Robby’s and filling with tears like on command. “I can explain!” he blurted out without thinking. He was gonna have to leave the state, leave the family he had made in the ER with them thinking of him as a creep. He wanted to sob but only stared back at Robby.
“What are you doing, Whitaker? Cause I honest to God can not think of an explanation that would make you stealing blood bags plausible,” Robby said firmly.
He could understand Langdon's need for medication. They had talked about, apologized, made up. But stealing blood? Other people’s blood? He didn’t want to believe this man he thought to be a pure soul could do something as disgusting. And Robby prayed he could actually explain.
Dennis’ big wet eyes looked from his backpack to Robby and back again. Could he understand? Right now, the kindness in Robby’s eyes was gone. He just looked angry, tense, tired and almost dejected. He had to try.
“Doctor Robby…I have a disease,” Dennis started, and it seemed to be the right thing to say because Robby’s eyes softened.
“I don’t really…know what it is. There’s no actual research. Only uh…rumours,” he continued, his voice crackly, “And it somehow…makes me crave to drink blood and that craving can not be fought and so…so I take blood bags in order not to hurt someone,” he blurted out.
Robby seemed to go through many emotions, judging by his expressions. He looked surprised, worried, irritated but somehow…not disgusted. “So a vampire?” he asked carefully.
Dennis swallowed tightly, nodding slowly. “Theoretically yes. But it isn’t much like in the movies,” he said with a careful chuckle, but he aborted that action pretty quickly.
Robby bit his lip. What the fuck? “Whitaker. You understand that this is hard to believe, right?” he said, his voice gentle again and the younger man nodded. “If you- if you want we could maybe sit down and I can uhm…explain?” Dennis offered with those big sad eyes.
And damn Robby if he ever said no to him.