Work Text:
Dennis looked at the door in front of him. It was white, like most of the doors in the ED, with a window that gave a glimpse of what was happening inside. Robby was sitting at his desk, his glasses perched on his nose. He seemed to be reviewing files.
Dennis rarely saw him at his desk, and it was strange to see his attending sitting still for once, surrounded by piles of files and papers of all kinds. He had never been in his office. He wondered if there would be paintings, or perhaps photos, or if he had decided to keep the place minimalist.
“Damn it, Huckleberry, you’re gonna knock or do I have to do it for you?” Santos shouted behind him. “I give you 10 seconds! our shift ended over 20 minutes ago!”
A wave of adrenaline made Dennis flinch, and he suddenly became aware of the tremors shaking his sweaty hands. He held his medical certificate tightly, a half-sheet of paper that was starting to get crumpled. His breath caught in his throat and his binder seemed more present than ever, oppressing his rib cage. Soon it will be over, a small reassuring voice told him in his anxiety-ridden mind.
“I'm going, I'm going!” he exclaimed, his ears red.
The idea of Trin doing it for him, before he was ready, made him feel sick. Yet he knew he would never be ready. Coming out was always like that : it never felt easier and he never felt ready.
With slightly unsteady steps, he finally walked the three meters that separated him from the door before knocking timidly four times with his knuckles.
“Come in!” The familiar hoarse voice of his attending answered.
Dennis had time to glance fearfully at his friend and see her give him two thumbs up before slowly opening the door, his heart in his throat.
“Well, I thought you'd never come in. How long have you been waiting outside this door?” Robby asked amusedly, removing his glasses.
The young man felt his cheeks flush. He stammered out an unintelligible sentence, which Robby cut off by inviting him to sit down in the chair opposite him.
Dennis began to look around the room : it was white and cold, but he noticed that posters of various jazz concerts had been hung on the walls. A small plant sat on the desk, and he caught a glimpse of a framed photo of Jake next to one of Robby and Jack standing by a fire, smiling. A photo of Adamson alongside Robby was also on display.
“So, Whitaker, what can I do for you?” Robby asked, folding his hands on his desk.
His brown eyes looked at him intently, as if trying to figure him out at that very moment. As if he were analyzing him. Dennis's heart was pounding in his chest and he swallowed hard, looking down. He really didn't know how to approach the subject. He cursed himself for not having prepared a detailed plan beforehand.
“I-uh...I'm gonna be o-off work. For 10 days. I'm having surgery.”
Robby's eyes suddenly widened.
“Don't worry! I-I have a certificate!” he exclaimed, handing him the piece of paper urgently, almost tearing it in the process.
His attending, however, did not glance at the crumpled sheet, which was now floating among the piles of papers. Dennis finally looked up at Robby, who was staring at him with such concern that he could feel it in his bones.
“Dennis, are you—I didn’t know you had health problems. I hope it’s not too serious, I—”
His attending, normally so sure of his words, seemed to be searching for them, and his voice was full of concern, of compassion.
The young man could feel his eyes getting dangerously moist, his throat tightening. Dennis cleared his throat before grabbing the edge of the wooden desk firmly, until his knuckles turned white.
He had to come out now. He had scared him. What an idiot, he probably thought he was on his deathbed. Christ. He wasn't going to cry. Not today. Not now, like a scared kid, in front of his boss, who had just shown him more compassion than his own father ever had. Damn it. What if he lost him? What if he lost Robby because of who he was? What if this was the last time he would receive that warm look, that tone that showed more than any gesture that he truly cared about him?
Then the young man remembered the poster that Robby had insisted on hanging in the waiting room that read, “Here, we respect sexual and gender diversity.” He had made a big deal out of it, forcing Gloria to come downstairs so he could give her a long speech about the importance of inclusion in an emergency department, quoting articles he had read and various other sources. Gloria had listened to his animated rant with a raised eyebrow before simply agreeing. Dennis was convinced she would have agreed without the speech, but everyone had enjoyed the show, including him.
He could still see Robby hanging his poster carefully but determinedly in the middle of the crowded waiting room. After one last satisfied glance in its direction, he had returned to his patients, but not before asking Ahmad to keep an eye on the poster to make sure no one tried to take it down or tear it off.
Maybe it would be okay, after all ?
Dennis took a deep breath and allowed himself three more seconds to enjoy this moment when Robby was still unaware of what he was about to confess. To enjoy what might be the last few seconds of warmth he would receive from his mentor.
“I'm a trans man and I'm getting my top surgery.”
He said it in a single breath, quickly but clearly, with a new determination in his still slightly wavering gaze.
Robby's face immediately relaxed, before a smile spread across his face. To Dennis's great surprise, his eyes sparkled with a new emotion he couldn't name.
“Dennis, congratulations! You’ve probably been waiting for this moment for forever. Who's your surgeon?”
He seemed genuinely interested, and a warm glow spread through the young man's chest.
"Dr. Coleman!"
Robby began to laugh softly. Dennis had rarely seen him so happy and smiling.
“Ah, good ol’ Coleman. We know each other a little. Well, it's mostly Jack who knows him. He's excellent, you're in good hands.”
There were a few seconds of silence, during which Robby regained his serious expression, sitting up straight in the chair he had been slumped in to meet Dennis’s gaze.
“And Dennis, thank you for sharing this information with me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, and I’m touched that you trust me like this. I will, of course, be discreet about this with your coworkers .”
The lump in his throat returned, and Dennis simply nodded furtively, not trusting his voice : he knew it would break miserably if he opened his mouth.
“And if you need anything during your recovery, I'm here. And so is Jack, for that matter!”
His smile had returned, and Dennis took a deep breath. He had done the hard part; now was the perfect time to make his request.
“Um, about that, Dr. Robby...”
Dennis nervously bit the inside of his cheek before looking down again, ashamed. God, he hated this. But he had to do it, or Trin would kill him. He gathered his courage.
“I-I'll need a ride home on the day I'm discharged from the hospital. Trinity took two days off work, but she's on shift the day I'm discharged. And I checked, you’re not, and I-I wanted to take the bus, but Trin, you know her—”
“I'll be there,” Robby interrupted immediately. “And do you have a good support system for your 10 days of recovery?”
“Trinity will be there, and Garcia will stop by from time to time. We've already started freezing leftovers so I don't have to cook for myself.”
Robby nodded approvingly.
“That's good, you are being thoughtful. In any case, you have my number and Jack's if there is anything. And Dennis, I truly mean anything. I want you to promise me you won't hesitate to call one of us.”
Dennis promised before getting up, his legs a little wobbly but his shoulders lightened by the weight that had just been lifted from them. He had taken up enough of Robby's time, who seemed to be drowning in paperwork.
Robby got up too and opened the door for him before placing a warm hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I'm proud of you, kid.” He smiled at him, and then, in a gesture that surprised Dennis, ruffled his hair affectionately before closing the door behind him a little hastily.
The young man stood motionless for several seconds, his arms hanging limply at his sides, his cheeks flushed.
It was Trinity's body crashing forcefully against his, taking his breath away, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, that brought him back to his senses.
"You did it, Den, it's behind you! You did it!" She seemed so happy for him that Dennis felt like crying again, but this time out of joy, because he was suddenly overcome with immense happiness at the thought that he was surrounded by people who supported him, accepted him as he was, loved him, and in the most unconditional way.
Trinity put her arm around his shoulders before pulling him toward the exit.
“By the way, I think you've just been officially adopted, Huck.” she exclaimed once outside, clearly amused.
“Shut up, Trin.”
But he was smiling.