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If Dennis had genuinely thought his day was going to pass by smoothly, he should have known better the moment one of the students said it was quiet.
He’s never considered himself a violent person. But at that moment? Any one of his thoughts could have him sent up to psych for an evaluation. Of course, even if he wanted to have someone ask about his childhood for an hour straight, he wouldn’t have had the time before the incoming call came in.
By the look on Trinity’s face when she turned to look at the kid, she was far closer to assault charges than anyone should be before noon. With a sigh, he nudged her towards the doors as the first patient rolled in.
A car accident. Some moron decided he didn’t need winter tires in Pittsburgh during the dead of winter. As a result, he’d slid instead of stopping for a red light. Directly into the side of another car.
The driver and his passenger, his younger sister, showed up first. The driver had lacerations on his palms and fingers from attempting to pry open the other driver's door after his SUV caved the whole thing in upon impact. The teen girl had a head wound and a concussion at minimum, definitely due for a CT scan. Airbags failed to deploy, of course. Probably the car’s revenge for refusing to care for it properly.
A woman was pushed through the bay less than 15 minutes later. The fire department arrived and managed to pry her car door open. Possible spinal injury due to the force of impact. Her legs were compressed in the crash, but seem fully functional beyond mild lacerations. The airbags deployed, but check for concussion. Pain and tightness in the right wrist.
All of this was important, but felt rather inconsequential when faced with the fact Dennis knew her.
He couldn’t stop the way her name slipped from his mouth, breathy in his horror. She smiled when she looked up at him.
“Pretty sure you’re supposed to ask me my name to check for responsiveness, Dennis,” The piece of his brain that remained functional noted that your answer alone proved how aware you were. The much louder part of him cheered that you remembered him enough to greet him by name with a smile, even after all the time that had passed. “Shame on you, trying to help me cheat before I even start the test.”
He practically tripped over himself to keep up with the gurney, knees weaker than they’d been since… well, probably since pre-med, the last time he’d seen you. You hugged him and both promised to keep in touch.
“What are you doing in Pittsburgh?” And no, that’s not the question to ask right now, but in his defence, most people wheeled in here looked like hell. He hadn’t been trained for a patient to be so beautiful it led to him having heart palpitations. Thankfully, Robby stepped in before Dennis could embarrass himself further.
“Maybe we should leave the catching up till after we examine the trauma patient, Dr. Whitaker?” He looked as if he was trying not to smile, betrayed by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Robby would attempt to subtly dig for more information later, Dennis was sure. It would be worth the teasing, though, if he could get another smile from you before then. Maybe even a laugh.
“Yes. Absolutely, of course, you’re right-” He forced himself to shut up and focus, listening as you answered Trinity’s list of questions and trying not to be too obvious in how invested he was.
The examination looked good so far. Nothing horribly wrong, at least, and you seemed fully cognizant. You had dramatically sighed after Robby made an ice pun, turning to Dennis with big eyes and asking if he could “pretty please put you under for the rest of the exam”.
You’d need a CT, along with a x-ray for your wrist. Robby didn’t look too worried. Until then, Santos would be your primary doctor, and you would wait down in the ER until your tests.
Of course, the Pitt calms could smell his desperation, so he got pulled away to do his job immensely after. By the time he can breathe again, you’re being taken upstairs for the imaging. You offer a small wave as you pass, looking embarrassed to be in a wheelchair as you chatted with Princess.
The elevator slid shut right as Trinity cornered him behind the central desk.
“So?”
Because, of course, Trinity would hunt him down long before Robby would. Robby pretended to be professional. Trinity had never bothered going that route with Dennis.
“So what?”
The sigh she let out told him exactly where this conversation was heading.
“Oh come on!” Trinity leaned across the desk, as if getting closer would make him talk faster. She was right, since knowing he was within hitting distance did wonders in convincing him tell her what she wanted. “How do you know Miss ‘I was in a car accident but still look like I walked off a TV set’, huh?”
And yeah, that was fair enough. Because you looked perfect. Though Dennis had thought the same thing during exam week when you were dressed in sweats, eyes puffy from crying, and hands shaking from caffeine. So he could definitely be biased.
He hesitated.
Part of him had wanted to keep this, you, to himself, at least for a little longer. But that wasn’t feasible, and beyond that, it wasn’t as if Trinity would ask about your favourite muffin or childhood dog. He could keep the important bits for himself.
“We went to university together when I was premed. Took a few classes together and we had a study group together in the first year, but like half the group dropped out, so we ended up just studying without them for the rest of uni.”
Trinity’s gasp was far too dramatic for what had amounted to you both camping out in the library too late into the night, or later on, at your apartment, purposefully ignoring your roommate’s teasing comments and ridiculous amounts of winking.
“Wow, study dates, just the two of you? Didn’t know you had it in you, huckleberry,” She kept talking, ignoring his stammering and progressively reddening face. “Kinda punching above your weight class, there.”
Trinity paused next to him, expression uncharacteristically gentle for a moment. “She seems sweet, though. And she’s hot, obviously. Good for you.” Grabbing her tablet, she grinned again, the softness gone as fast as it had come. “If you don’t shoot your shot, I will.”
With that, she was pacing away towards chairs, leaving Dennis staring blankly after her.
She was probably joking. Probably. She wouldn’t ask out a patient, that was for sure.
Probably.
If he explained to Trinity that it would really fuck him up if she asked out the girl he’d been in love with since he was 19 and never really got over, she’d definitely back off. But he didn’t want to explain that because it raised the question of why he never acted on it.
And look, despite the way he was raised, he’d dated a fair number of women. A few serious relationships and some flings in between. He didn’t consider himself entirely undesirable. But there were limits, right? And Trinity was right. You were so far out of his league it wasn’t even funny.
Dennis valued friendships, and you were one of the best friends he’d ever had. Maybe still the best in a lot of ways. He would take friendship over trying for more and losing you.
Not that it changed anything, in the end, when you’d drifted apart regardless.
Robby called for him near the ambulance bay door. Shaken out of his stupor, he sighed and attempted to force you out of his mind and act like the doctor he’d worked so hard to become.
You were rolled back down to the ER within the hour, waiting on your results, when Trinity asked him for assistance regarding patient care and practically herded him into your room. Patient care was quickly revealed to be standard questions that devolved into an attempt at gossip within a few minutes of talking.
In retrospect, he was only surprised she didn’t find out sooner.
“You’re a model?” Trinity stopped writing to stare at you, then Dennis, and then you again.
You laughed, pushing yourself further up on the bed, grinning at Dennis as if her reaction was so amusing you wanted to share the feeling with him. He wanted to be upset that Trinity got the chance to make you laugh first, but any chance to hear you happy was a positive in his books.
Distantly, he was reminded how goddamn pathetic he had always been for you. He wasn’t so naive as to think the feeling would ever go away, not after it persisted for 4 years straight. Yet somehow, it still knocked the air out of his chest.
He was so distracted by your smile that he almost missed your response.
“Not, like, a super big one or anything! I just do like advertisements for jewelry, clothing, stuff like that,” Always too modest. As if Dennis wouldn’t pay to watch you curled up on the shitty couch you had in college, clutching instant coffee like a lifeline- And that thought alone was another example of pathetic. “No runways or anything fancy.”
Trinity opened her mouth, but Dennis jumped in first. “So, why Pittsburgh then? I thought you went to New York for your PhD program.”
The look on your face threw him off momentarily. Lips parted, eyes wide and blinking up at him, as if something he said stunned you.
Did you really think he wouldn’t remember your plans for after school?
You cried when you got the acceptance letter. He bought a shitty grocery store cake. You both ate it with plastic forks in the park, frosting staining your lips a bright, artificial blue.
You stammered, breaking eye contact, suddenly interested in your own hands. “Yeah! Yeah, I finished that early last year, actually. And then one of my professors got me an interview at the University of Pittsburgh for a part-time teaching position? They offered me the job, and it even has research opportunities, so, it’s pretty great.” You were never as nervous as when you spoke about your own accomplishments. “I just started last week. I was on my way to the lab when, um, you know.”
He didn’t get the chance to try and formulate a response before Trinity is whacking him on the arm.
“Hold up, you’re a model with a PhD, teaching at a university in your 20s- Holy shit, Whitaker, got any other perfect friends hiding around here? The next president of America, maybe?” And if he preened a tad, that was his own business. You were perfect, thank you very much, and he appreciated it when others told you that. You could use the confidence boost.
He watched your head jerked up, staring at Trinity, then him, as if expecting him to lessen your apparent embarrassment. Yeah, good luck with that.
“A professor with lab access?” Dennis couldn’t stop his grin if he tried. “That’s amazing! I'm proud of you. I know how hard you worked to get here.”
The way you smiled, smaller than before, shy, but so sweet, made something in his stomach drop straight into a freefall.
Your lips opened (and was he staring too much at your mouth?), but before you spoke, Mel’s head popped between the curtains: two incoming traumas, one in cardiac arrest in the ambulance.
The satisfied nod when he promised to visit before you were discharged made it easier to walk away.
Afterwards, he didn’t even make it to the nurse's desk before Trinity informed him that your results are back.
“You wanna go give your girl the good news and discharge her for me?” And usually, the answer whenever Trinity tried to convince him to give discharge instructions so she can go do the “fun stuff” is hell no, but- well, he did want to talk to you again, and her calling you “his girl” was a nice addition, even if it was untrue.
You grinned at him when he slid past the curtain, your whole body leaning forward, and God, he adored you-
The discharge instructions were fairly simple. You managed to avoid any fractures in your wrist, just a light sprain. CT was clear, but self-monitor for any new or worsening headache, dizziness, nausea, or other related symptoms. Basic wound care for the abrasions on your left leg, watch for symptoms of infection and come back in 10 days to have the stitches removed.
You nodded along patiently as he gave his speech, and it was all going so well right up until he demonstrated how to wrap your wrist.
He pinned the loose fabric of the bandage and went to let go of your hand (and no, his own hands did not shake because he was a doctor, for gods' sake, and you were technically a patient, even if only for another few minutes, and Trinity had ownership of your file). Your good hand reached out and clasped his wrist. Dennis went so still it was as if you’d pulled out a weapon, and you released him, smiling shyly.
“Sorry, sorry, I just-” You sighed, looking up at him from the bed, and whatever was left of his self-preservation whispered that you were too close. “I just really missed my study buddy, I guess.”
Dennis’ voice slipped lower without his permission, closer to a whisper than he could recall ever using in the ER. “I missed you, too.” He paused, and then, because you deserve to know how true it was. “A lot. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out more.”
He watched as a shiver raced over your skin, slipping off the cot to stand up. The space between you two shrank further. The ER was always cold, that was all. No further examination needed.
“No, no, that’s not just on you. I could’ve done more, too. Life happened,” You stared up at him, voice dropping to match his. You lick your lips, and he definitely shouldn’t have been staring close enough to notice that. “But we ran into each other again, so it all worked out.”
Slowly, you reached forward again, hand fiddling with the neck of his scrub, and holy shit, way too close-
His heart rate was definitely elevated. That didn’t stop him from reaching out after you, fingers curling around yours, thumb resting over your pulse. It was quick, too.
“Hey,” You stared at your joint hands, avoiding his eyes. “Am I officially discharged?”
At his nod, you finally looked up at him, biting your lip.
This cannot be happening.
“Okay. If I’m not a patient anymore, will you kiss me? I’ve kind of been waiting a while.”
His lips are pressed to yours before he could second-guess himself, before he could even consider the implication that you’d been waiting for him to kiss you- and how long had that been going on?
You let out a breathy gasp, as if shocked despite asking for this. He pushed closer still, his other hand slid down to cradle your jaw, tilting your head back slightly.
It didn’t last long. The ER is far from romantic, and you were both tired. When you separated, instead of stepping away, you slid closer yet again, forehead resting against his shoulder. He could feel your smile pressed against his neck. Your hand was still cradled in his between the both of you as he ran his thumb in soothing circles on your palm. It should have been uncomfortable. It wasn’t.
“Can I make a request now, too?” The smile pressed into his skin grew. His own followed as he felt your nod against him. “Can I get your new number? And we could go get coffee, for old times' sake?”
You giggled, all sweet joy, pulling back to look at him again. “That was two questions.”
Dennis couldn’t stop himself from kissing you again. You fall into him easily, as if you’d been doing this for years.
You both broke apart again, smiling too widely to keep going.
“Is that a no?”
You hummed teasingly, as if still thinking about it. The younger version of him would have rushed over himself to tell you that there was no pressure. Now, Dennis knew you better and could look past his own insecurities to see the elation in your eyes.
“Give me your phone.”
As you input your contact, he couldn’t help but stare. Something must’ve shown on his face, because when you looked back at him, holding out his phone, you cocked your head, giving him a curious grin. “What?”
“You’re beautiful.” The way you flushed encourages him to go one step further. “You always have been. I should’ve told you before.”
You pressed your lips to his once, twice, three times, a burst of quick pecks, your face hot enough to feel against his, before stepping back and staring at your shoes. He blinked, slightly dazed. If that was your response to honesty, he should consider having no filter around you more often.
You sighed and peeked up again, looking remorseful. “I should go. I have a ton of work to do.”
“Yeah, of course, me too.”
Neither of you moved.
Finally, after a long moment, you grabbed your bag and started towards the hallway. Then paused. “Text me later?” And oh, you looked nervous. That wouldn’t do.
Quickly, he pulled out his phone again and shot you a quick text. Your phone vibrated in your bag.
“So you have my number.” Now he looked away, embarrassed by his own eagerness. Not regretful, though. Not when you looked so pleased. “I don’t get off till late, but message me on how your car is?”
In a few steps, you crossed the room and press a quick kiss to his cheek, as if unable to stop yourself. Then, you turned and hurry out of the room, as if forcing yourself to not turn around. He watched you leave, all the way out of the ER, ignoring Trinity as she slid up to him in a way he can only describe as evil.
His phone went off less than an hour later with a message: a picture of a totaled car and a frowny face. He sent back a frowny face, and then a Google Maps link to a coffee shop between the hospital and the university. The barrage of heart emojis that followed felt like the way his own flipped around in his chest.