Chapter Text
As he walked back through the doors of the PTMC, with his welcome packet in hand, he felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. That, and fear. Fear that his haircut still makes him look too much like the ghost he left back in Nebraska, or the one he left here all those years ago.
Finishing his residency hadn’t changed him the way he had wanted it to. He had changed his name, legally, almost a year ago. He didn’t tell anyone, he didn’t change any of his ID’s, he just…let it be.
But somehow, on a routine sweep of payroll, Dr.Phillins, the doctor he’d been training under since he left Pittsburgh, found out. He was very quick to let him go when he found out what Dennis had done. The years he’d spent having to deny people’s access to gender affirming care caught up to him, and he couldn’t help but run. Run to a place that he knew he’d be safe and free from the judgment and accusations that were being cast upon him.
Which is how he ended up right back where he started, back in Pittsburgh. He started testosterone, he got top surgery, and he applied for a job as a pediatric fellow at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. He didn’t expect to get it, he had applied to Presby, too, for an Emergency Medicine fellowship. He didn’t know who still worked in the ED, and he didn’t want to have to find out. Ideally, he sees Trinity every once in a while and gets to avoid everyone else.
But he got hired in the Pitt. He mentioned that he had trained in Emergency Medicine, and he had clearly been in their system before. Social Security numbers don’t change. And so, when they mentioned that they’d only be able to offer him a position in the Pitt…he accepted.
Which landed him here. Standing in front of his locker, one that was much nicer than the one his belongings had occupied four years ago, staring before he shoved his bag and packet in, and slammed the door.
He looked down at his badge, Dennis Whitaker, Md. Emergency Medicine. That was him. Regardless of who he was the last time he was inside this building, this is who he is now.
He went out into the actual ED and looked around. Not much had changed. Some new technology, new faces…but the same floors. The same walls. The same rooms.
The same Chief Attending.
Dr.Robinavitch had aged, clearly. But he didn’t move any differently. He still commanded the Pitt with the strength and confidence of someone who had been doing this a long time. Probably because he had been.
“Hey, Kid.” His head snapped up, even though he was in his 30’s, he would always respond to ‘kid’. “You the new fellow?”
“Uh…Yes. Yes.” He cleared his throat, trying not to set it too low to avoid being awkward. “Dennis Whittaker.”
“Whitaker.” He paused. “I’m Dr.Robinavitch, everyone calls me Dr.Robby.” He held his hand out for Dennis to shake, and he quickly shook it before shoving his hand back into his pocket. “Welcome to the Pitt. You’re a little early, so not all our daytime people are here. Our charge nurse, Dana, is the queen of this ship. Default to her if you have questions. She’s about my age, blonde. You’ll know her when you see her. Now, you don’t need my approval to do things, you’ve been at this a while, yeah?” He nodded. “Where did you do your residency?”
“Uh…” He had been worried that this would come up. He had matched at the PTMC, but dropped out when he’d be summoned back to Nebraska to support his family…so he did his residency there. “The Midwest.”
Robby’s eyebrows furrowed. “Nice.” He had clearly decided not to pry as he told Dennis things that he already knew. How they ran the department, what everything meant, and where everything was. “Any questions?”
He rocked back and forth a bit, trying to calm his nerves as much as possible. “Nope. Pick up a patient, treat them. Monitor the residents and med students when they get here…Help when someone needs it.”
“Seems…like you’ve got it.” Robby nodded. “Alright. Find me if you need anything.” And then…he was gone. He didn’t seem suspicious; he didn’t seem like he knew anything. He didn’t seem like he cared, either. It’s not that the attending ever had much light in his eyes, but whatever bits of it were left had faded over the last few years.
The shift started fine. He did hand off with a night shift resident who seemed worse for wear and mildly traumatized by whatever she experienced the night before. By the time he was done and stepping back out towards the board, someone was calling his name.
“Whitaker?” He flinched at the familiar voice of his old roommate. “M…” Trinity Santos stood there, looking almost exactly the same as she did the last time he saw her. She was wearing deep blue scrubs, and her badge said exactly what she had hoped it would: surgery. “…Is that you?”
He inhaled and smiled. “In the flesh…”
Trinity stared at him like she was staring at a ghost. He supposed that she sort of was…staring at a ghost of some sort. His face had changed a little. Doing light farm work had helped him regain muscle, and the hormones redistributed the fat throughout his body, which included the fat in his face. His haircut alone, though, changed him enough to make him seem like a whole new person.
“Dr.Santos! I see you’ve met our…new…fellow.” Dr.Robby smiled. “This is Dr.Whitaker.”
Trinity looked between the two of them and nodded. “Yup. Met him. I’m just here for a consult.”
“You doing good Dr.Whitaker?” Robby looked at him with an interesting expression. Trinity looked at him with an expression that told him that she’d be talking to him later, before walking away.
“Uhm…yup. Yep. Residents good, med students good…”
“I asked about you, Dennis.” He still towered over him. The distance had scared him back then, but now it felt oppressive. “I worked with a med student once. Looked like you.” He swallowed heavily. He’s pretty sure his breakfast was going to come right back up. “Mary Whitaker.”
Dennis flinched. It felt like he’d been shot; it sent him right back to Pittfest. A patient told him that her daughter’s name was Mary as she slowly lost consciousness. She survived, but he never saw her again. He remembered his parents hugging him as he came home after his graduation, telling him they missed their only daughter. Their genius, perfect daughter. Who’d help Dr.Phillins save the lives of the residents of Broken Bow?, He was a liar and a traitor. To his patients. To his family. To his mentor. To Dr.Rovinavitch.
“She a relative of yours?” Robby didn’t mean to hurt him. He didn’t mean to trigger him. But he did. He was scared. Scared that after so many years of hiding who he really was, he’d have to go right back to being that scared, shy girl.
So he bolted. He ran right out of the ER, and into the ambulance bay. He threw up in the bushes before sliding down against the external wall of the hospital. He gripped his hair in his hands and tugged as hard as he could. He wanted this all to end. He wanted to go back in time and never agree to come back to PTMC. He never wanted to see Robby ever again. He never wanted to hear that name again.
“Dennis?” He looked up, and…there Trinity was. “That’s your name now, right? Dennis?” She sat next to him. “Been a while, huh?”
He nodded slowly. He didn’t trust himself to speak again without hurling all over his shoes.
“I should’ve known.” She looked at him. “You were always a little butch. But in a like…ex-Christian girl yearning way.” He snorted. “I don’t think Robby knew, that it was you. I don’t think he’d do that.”
He swallowed his saliva before speaking, his voice coming out scratchy. “How was he…after I left.”
Trinity sighed, looking out at the ambulance bay. “Fine. For the first few months. Then when it came time for the new residents to start, he slowly started to decline. Everyone knew you had matched. Everyone was excited. And then you didn’t show up.” She clenched her fists. “You moved out, with a short note saying that you were gone and that was it. Nobody knew what had happened to you.” She looked over. “Everyone was upset. People liked you, you know.” She shoved him, and he shoved her back. He’d missed…this. Their friendship. “He went on sabbatical. Came back quieter, more serious.” She sighed. “But time passes. People change.”
He laughed. “Yeah…We do.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before Robby walked up to them.
“You two ready to come back in?” He tilted his head, his face unreadable.
“Yep.” Trinity popped back up, sticking out her hand to help Dennis stand with her. “See you later.” She pat him roughly on the back and walked right back through the doors. He tried to follow her, but Robby grabbed him.
“I didn’t know.” He looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean to…To do that to you.” He cleared his throat.
He looked off, doing anything but meeting the other man's eyes. “Just keep it quiet. Please. I don’t need everybody knowing…About my medical history.”
Robby nodded and went back inside, and Dennis followed.
He spent the entire shift doing his best to avoid the other man. Directing his residents and med students towards him instead, and when they got under his skin, he sent them off on their own and let himself take patients.
It was nice to get back into the Pitt. He had missed the high-risk, high-reward of working in such a busy emergency room. The way that his body moved in and out of rooms, and throughout the unit, like he owned the place. It almost made him forget just how anxious he felt. It made him feel alive again.
He clocked out, grabbed his bag, and stepped out into the fresh air.
He didn’t turn around to see if anyone had followed him; he didn’t want to know.
All he knew was that when he checked his phone upon returning to his apartment, he had two notifications.
Trinity Santos: Is this still your number? Text me when you’re ready to tell me the drama.
Michael Robinavitch: Good work today, Dennis. See you tomorrow.
He swiped Robby’s notification away and replied to Trinity with a quick thumbs-up emoji.
This was going to be a long, long fellowship.