Work Text:
“You killed her!”
Robby whips around from his position at the patient's bedside, the shrill blaring of the monitors ringing loud in his ears. “Ms. Hawkins, I-”
The young woman steps into the room, legs trembling with the effort. Her eyes locked on the still body in the bed. “It’s Mrs. Jackie was my wife.” She sniffs, her gaze now flicking to Robby. “And you killed her.”
“Mrs. Hawkins, your wife suffered a fatal pulmonary hemorrhage. Every life saving measure available was employed to save her, but the bleeding in her lungs was too much for her body to come back from.”
“She… she drowned? In her own blood?” Something unrecognizable flashes in her eyes. Her breathing near hyperventilation. “She was fine! I-I was just talking to her! And then I left her alone with-”
Robby turns off the monitors, the room falling into an eerie silence. He steps forward, gently taking one of her shaking hands into his. “I am going to take you to one of our family rooms while we clean her up, alright? We can call our social worker and she can help you with anything you need next- if that’s something that you want.” He slides open the door, leading her out of the room.
“I-I…” Mrs. Hawkins voice trembles for a moment before she falls silent. Trembling tears through her body like tidal waves.
“It’s nothing that you need to think too hard about right now. I’m going to get you somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can breathe and just… take a minute for yourself.”
Not another word is spoken during their walk across the ER. The regular, chaotic hum of the space doing its share of filling the silence.
The door to the family room opens with a soft creak. Robby leads Mrs. Hawkins to a chair, the woman collapsing into it almost immediately. Robby rubs at the back of his neck for a moment, watching her. “I will send someone to come check on you in a couple minutes, okay?”
Robby is about to head out when Mrs. Hawkins’ small voice reaches his ears. “...Doctor Robby?” He turns, his hand still on the door handle.
“Jackie… We’ve known each other since high school.” Her voice shakes. “We were all that the other had. Our families weren’t exactly supportive…”
“I am sorry for your loss.” He breathes, watching as the grief takes over her body. He moves to leave the room again. “I will call our-”
“...and you took that from me.” The sadness in her voice was, without warning, replaced by anger. The words were also accompanied by the sound of rustling clothing.
Robby hears the shot way before he feels it.
And he vaguely registers the feeling of himself being dragged across the room before consciousness leaves him.
— — — — — —
Trinity shoots up from her spot at the hub, eyes shooting open from her momentary slumber. She looks around quickly, gaze landing on Whitaker. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He asks around a mouthful of a protein bar, looking up from where he was doing his own charting.
She rubs at her face, trying to hide any remaining evidence of sleep. “That… that noise.”
Whitaker shakes his head. “What’d it sound like?”
Trinity shakes her head, groaning in frustration. She pushes herself up from her chair. “I don’t- I don’t fucking know. It was loud but… muffled?”
“Do you want help?”
“No. I got it.” She responds quickly, walking off towards where she heard the sound.
But she never heard it again. No matter where she searched.
However, she could not shake the feeling that something was extremely and horribly wrong.
As a last-ditch effort, she decides to search the family rooms. The only reason that she hadn’t done so beforehand is that she did not want to disturb any families that may have been in there.
Trinity peeks into the first one that she reaches, eyes widening at the sight.
Blood.
Blood everywhere.
Without thinking too much, she bursts into the room. And some part of her, a deep part, really wishes that she hadn’t.
Because the source of the blood?
It was Robby.
Robby was bleeding.
And… dragging himself across the floor?
“Robby? Oh my god!” She runs into the room, unaware of the figure that was hiding behind the door.
Her mentor’s face was pale and riddled with pain as he looked up at her. “Santos… you- you need to… go. Get out of here.”
Trinity collapses to her knees beside him. “What? Fuck no.” She looks him over quickly, trying to find the source of the bleeding. “What happened? Where are you hurt?”
“I shot him.” A cold, unfamiliar voice says. “And you weren’t part of the deal.”
Trinity’s head snaps up so fast that her neck cracks from the motion. There, in the corner behind the door, stood a woman that she recognized from earlier in the day. She doesn’t remember the case, but she remembers seeing the woman with Robby.
“You need to leave.” The woman says, watching her carefully. “Now.”
Trinity looks at the woman, to Robby, and then back to the woman again. “I can’t do that.” She hears Robby say something, but she pays it no mind.
The woman pulls a pistol out of her hoodie pocket, aiming it directly at her. “You should listen to your friend.”
A cold wave of fear washes over her, but Trinity tries to push it as far away as she can. “I can’t. Do that.” She reiterates. “You know, with being a doctor and all. I save lives. I don’t help people take them.”
The woman growls in frustration, stomping her foot on the floor. “Do you know what he’s done?”
Trinity shakes her head, hands moving towards Robby. She only stops when she hears the woman move closer.
“I didn’t say you could do that.”
“I need to help him.” Trinity responds simply. “He’s going to bleed out if I don’t do something.”
“And? He took my wife from me!”
Her eyes flick to Robby for a moment. “He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Then how do you explain her being fine one minute and then her being dead the next? He was left alone with her!”
“What’d your patient die of?” Trinity asks Robby, nudging him when there was no answer. She needs to keep him awake for as long as possible.
He flinches, groaning. “Pulmonary… hemorrhage."
Trinity nods quickly, looking back up at the woman again. “If Robby couldn’t save her. Nobody could have.”
“But he-”
“I know what he did. And I know what you’re blaming him for.” She responds. “He is one of the best that this hospital has. But if you do not let me help him, many more people are going to die because he isn’t here.”
Through the window in the door, Trinity watches as Whitaker passes by.
But not before they make eye contact.
She tries to pour every bit of pleading she has into her expression as she pushes back her hair with a blood covered hand, hoping that Whitaker is smart enough to catch on.
Trinity looks down at Robby again, finding that his eyes are beginning to close. “Let me help him, please.” She pleads, looking towards the woman again.
The woman just turns away, beginning to pace the length of the room.
Trinity jumps into action now, letting her training take over as the woman seems to be… wrapped up in her own world at the moment. She quickly, and as gently as possible, flips Robby over onto his back. Trembling hands strip him of his quarter zip and tear into the collar of his scrubs.
There.
Right there. A gunshot wound to the abdomen.
An entry or exit? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t have the capacity to care at the moment.
She needs to slow the bleeding as soon as possible.
Trinity balls up Robby’s quarter zip and presses it to the wound. “Hey, Robby. You still with me?” She whispers, hoping not to break the woman out of her trance.
He doesn’t make a sound. But he’s still breathing.
She tears Robby’s scrub top into strips, tying the quarter zip down to add more pressure. “I’ve got you.” She whispers again. “Just stay with me, alright?”
Suddenly, there’s commotion outside of the door. Trinity spares a glimpse to see that Whitaker actually was as smart as she thought. Security is here.
The woman flinches, the pattern of her pacing now interrupted. She looks at the door in fear. “Shit… shit!”
Trinity keeps up the pressure, praying a silent prayer that they’ll make it through this. Robby can’t die. Not like this.
Not with his blood all over her hands.
“Miss?” The officer says. “You need to put the weapon down.”
The woman wheels around, standing directly in front of the door now. “No! He deserves to die!” She turns to face Trinity and Robby again, and Trinity withdraws her hands quickly.
“We can’t let that happen, miss.” The officer says again. “Please put the weapon down.”
In a quick movement, the woman grabs one of the chairs and shoves it under the door handle. She starts pacing again, hitting herself in the head with her fists. “He needs to… I can’t let-!”
Trinity looks up again, finding Whitaker hovering worriedly behind the security officer. ‘Robby’ She mouths. ‘Bad.’
He runs off quickly, hopefully to go find more help once they are able to get out of here.
“Miss. We are going to come in if you don’t come out.” The security officer yells through the door. “This is your final warning.”
“No!” The woman cries.
And all hell breaks loose from there.
The security officer shoulders his way into the room, shoving the chair out of the way with ease. The woman shoves herself back into a corner, the gun clattering to the floor.
Whitaker, McKay, and Dana flood into the room shortly after, a stretcher following close behind.
“I-I…” Trinity takes a deep breath, trying to get her thoughts together. She needs to be clinical about this. Just treat Robby like any other patient. “GSW to the stomach. Not sure if it’s entry or exit. I tried to keep pressure the best I could.”
McKay nods, gently moving her out of the way. But Trinity shoves against it. “No! No, I’m okay. I can help.”
“Kid, let them work.” Dana says gently, placing her hands on her shoulders. “You need to take a minute and breathe. Wash up. Get checked out-”
“I’m not hurt.” Trinity quickly responds, clipped and annoyed. “I’m fine.”
“Hospital policy, Santos. I’m sorry.”
Trinity sighs, allowing herself to be helped up with Dana’s guiding hands. The adrenaline from the situation leaves her quickly, and she feels as if she’s a puppet that’s been cut from its strings.
Blood covered footprints are left in her wake.
Robby needs to be okay.
He can’t die.
He just can’t.