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Dennis was strongly advised to not go into emergency medicine considering his condition. And sure, other departments were filled with interesting cases to work on and Whitaker didn’t particularly prefer one or the other. But when for his last rotation he chose the PTMC, he was lost.
The Emergency Department entranced him. Quick thinking, fast rotation between patients, the staff that was kind to each other but also knew not to pry. Unlike his previous rotation in the OB department where nurses just pried and tried to get his secrets. He knew well enough that Pitt also had its rumours, he was roommates with Santos, duh.
However, he appreciated no one ever asking why he was jittery or why he was out of breath from a short run. As long as he did his job well enough, Dennis knew no one would question him. Aside from McKay who pulled him aside about a week in and tried to offer her support about ‘whatever he struggled with’ on one of the worst days he had. That followed the most awkward conversation about Whitaker being chronically ill and not addicted. He honestly didn’t hold it against Cassie, it was actually kind of sweet, knowing that she cares enough to talk to him.
Dennis was pretty stable most of the time, so it wasn’t a frequent occurrence to be completely incapacitated by his condition. Today the good streak decided to leave him. From the very morning he knew this day was going to suck. As he stood up from his bed, he felt his heart squeeze a little too tight and his vision go dark. Whitaker groaned and rubbed his face, he couldn’t afford to skip any day, he needed to graduate on track. So, as usual, with minimal breakfast and a cold shower, after Trinity poured out all of the hot water, he trudged out to the ED.
The first few hours were fine, honestly. He was a bit short of breath and sitting down a lot more than usual. Dr. Robby even complemented his bedside manners. It definitely didn’t make Dennis’ cheeks grow hotter and his heart feel a little heavier in his chest. He couldn’t dwell on that as code stroke was called and he had to run in and help. He was put on the intubation as the patient’s oxygen was rapidly dropping. Whitaker secured the airway, pushing the tube down and attached the balloon. He was relieved when the man’s oxygen levels climbed back up. Robby was barking out orders and labs. Together with other residents Dennis was sent to get the patient up to the CT scan along with the nurses.
Running back to the Pitt, Dennis felt his heart rate spike. His head was spinning and lungs couldn’t get enough air to compensate. As it usually is inside the Emergency Department he had no time to catch his breath, as a new patient was rolled through the medbay doors. A drowning victim, a young guy about Whitaker’s age. Dennis was immediately put on the CPR, delivering chest compressions he felt the world spinning.
By some miracle and an enormous amount of intervention the heart found its rhythm and they were able to shock the heart, stabilising its work to a sinus rhythm. Relief washed over him and Dennis felt his legs become weak. Shit. He couldn’t allow himself to relax now as the patient still needed attention. As soon as the patient was rolled up to the OR, Whitaker excused himself and basically ran towards the bathroom. There, collapsing on the floor, he clutched his chest. His heart rate was too rapid and he started to hyperventilate, his body trying to catch up with oxygen. Tears fell down his cheeks, he couldn’t control his body anymore.
This was his worst nightmare, his head spun, heart raced and his lungs convulsed violently trying to get a breath through. Even worse of a nightmare it became when the door opened and inside stepped Dr. Robby. “Whooa, what’s happening here?” Michael looked at the student completely bewildered. Whitaker could only cover his face with his arms and whimpered, not like he could make a run for it and hide better. With little hesitation Robby knelt down next to him, grabbing his limp legs and bending them at the knees, securely standing them up on the bathroom floor.
“Dennis, I need you to breathe,” he coaxed, pulling the boy's arms away from his face and also pressing them into the cold floor. “Can’t,” Whitaker mewled as his breaths hitched painfully in his throat, “I dunno how to fix this.” Robby’s heart ached at the terrified boy in front of him. “Yes, you can. C’mon, with me,” the older man pressed one of Whitaker’s shaking hands against his chest. “In,” he breathed in, counting to six in his mind, “and out.” Dennis tried to, but couldn’t, hiccups interrupting him over and over. “C’mon, baby, you can do this,” the pet name slipped out naturally, neither of them paying attention to it, but it seemed to work on the blond boy. Whitaker breathed in rhythm with Robby, barely interrupted by his sobs. As his panic attack finally subsided, Dennis’ body slumped all muscles relaxing at once. Michael pulled him forward, holding the student's head against his chest and rubbing his back.
After a moment Dennis came back to, taking a deep breath he sat up straight. As he pulled away something in Robby’s chest tightened. He looked at the boy with worry in his eyes. “Does that… happen often?” He cleared his throat, speaking in low tones not to startle Whitaker. “Not really,” Dennis looked down, straightening his scrubs. He couldn’t look up at the older man. The silence in the bathroom was a physical force between them. “I- I’m sorry, I should go back to work,” he moved back, trying to stand up. He was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder, grounding him back. “Ah, ah, ah. You’re going to clock out and go home,” Robby shook his head and looked at his watch, “My shift is over. I’ll drive you home.” Whitaker wanted to protest, to convince his attending that he was fine, but as he opened his mouth one look from Robby made him shut it. Michael stood up, offering him a hand and pulled the med student back on his feet. Dennis was unsteady on his feet, he sighed heavily knowing that Robby was right.
With a steady hand on Whitaker’s lower back Robby led them out of the bathroom and towards staff lockers. He stood over Dennis as he made sure the boy actually clocked out. Both of them gathered their things and Michael led him to the exit, waving Dana goodbye as they walked.
In the parking lot, he opened the car door for Dennis and watched as he get in and settled down. Robby closed the door and rounded the car, climbing in himself. Usually, Michael preferred to walk, fresh air in the morning helped him not lose his mind during long hours and the walk back helped him have a quiet time to reflect. Today as the mornings grew colder he decided to drive and luckily so, because he was aware Santos and Whitaker lived quite far away if their periodical lateness had anything to prove.
“Put in the address,” he clicked on the map app on the tablet on the central panel. Dennis sheepishly typed in their address, wincing as he saw thirty minutes due to traffic. Robby huffed out a laugh and shook his head. He shifted his car into drive and turned on the radio quietly, hoping it would help Whitaker relax just a bit.
“I was aware of your condition, but what I wasn't aware of is that it causes you to have panic attacks,” He mused out loud, not accusatory but still worry in his voice was evident. “It usually doesn’t, I swear,” Whitaker piped up, immediately defensive. He needed to prove to Robby that he was completely capable of doing his job with no hindrance. Seeing the completely calm demeanour of his attending made him relax slightly and take a deep breath. “It makes me winded, yes. I usually need a second to sit down and breathe, to bring my heart rate down. Today is just a bad day and I was running around too much, my body couldn’t keep up,” He fidgeted with the strings on his scrub pants. “Alright, noted. You gotta make sure to get a second in between cases and you should call out when you know at the start of the day if it’s going to be bad,” Robby turned to the neighbourhood, “I will help Dana shuffle your shifts so you won’t lose any hours.”
“I- Thank you,” Dennis said quietly and nodded. It was comforting knowing that he won’t lose his hours even if he needs the day off. Right now he needed to graduate on time before his grants ran out. And losing a whole semester and wasting more money because he wasn’t able to manage his condition was grim.
As he spotted their building Whitaker opened his backpack, fishing for keys. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he noticed his keys weren’t in their usual pocket. He dug through his bag and then patted all his pockets. Gone. “Fuck…” Dennis exhaled quietly and looked up at Robby who already stopped in front of the building. Michael looked back at him with a quizzical expression, trying to gauge what was wrong. “I… I forgot my key in the morning… Trinity was the one to close the door and we were already late,” he ran his hands in his hair, dreading having to sit by the door.
“You can come to my place? Just wait out until Dr. Santos finishes her shift. My flat isn’t far from the Pitt so it won’t be much out of the way,” now it was Robby’s turn to be flustered. Asking an attractive med student if he wanted to come over wasn’t something he did very often. The back of his neck grew hotter as he waited for Whitaker’s response.
“I, uh, I guess that’s fine,” Dennis nodded, the tips of his ear growing red immediately giving away his own nerves. “I’m gonna shoot Santos a text,” he pulled out his phone, sending panicked texts to Trinity as Robby pulled out back on the road. “I have some leftovers, you probably haven’t eaten, yeah?” Michael glanced at the flustered man who just nodded in response.
`just don’t jump his bones yet ;)` was all the help Whitaker got from his roommate. Oh, this was going to be a long afternoon.