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It was cliché to say it all happened so fast that Dennis couldn’t really piece it together, but that’s the truth of it. It had been hand-over, Jack and Dennis had arrived together since Dennis had a rare night shift. Jack checked in with Robby first, while Dennis changed, and then they swapped, and Dennis went to the central hub to check in with Robby, though it was more flirting than checking in. He hadn’t seen their partner all day, and he’d missed him.
“You’re late,” Robby’s voice was sing-song and playful.
Dennis grinned, warmth blooming in the center of his chest as he approached the larger man. “I’m not late, you’re just early,” he countered.
Robby snorted, eyes softening as he studied the younger man. “You look tired, you sleep okay?”
“Yes, Dad,” Dennis replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. How was the day shift?”
“Oh, it’s the usual level of madness and insanity. Got a psych in holding who thinks she’s possessed. Even started doing the exorcism rites as I was trying to treat her.”
Dennis glanced over at the harried woman in one of the two behavioral rooms they had. “Self-exorcism, can’t say I’ve seen that one before.”
“Right, not sure how that’d work given how violent it can get,” Robby replied with a chuckle, leaning forward just slightly, sharing their body heat. Dennis could smell the remnants of his cologne and sweat from being on his feet all day. “I missed you today, Santos did too, I think.”
Dennis chuckled, “Trinity doesn’t miss people, too human for her. I miss both of you. I left some dinner for you—” He caught movement in his periphery, some guy stepped through the ambulance bay, Dennis had assumed he was coming for help, and got turned around.
“Dr. Robby!” the man shouted. Robby turned instantly, the smile on his face fading. There was a flash of metal, cries and screams of fear, and then a loud crack. It didn’t register as a gun or even as a weapon, perhaps because it didn’t belong in a hospital.
Robby jerked back, subtle at first, more like he’d stumbled. By instinct, Dennis’ arms were already wrapping around Robby’s center. The older man's impact drove the breath out of both men. Something slammed into Dennis’ left side, not pain, just a deep jolting shock that left his ears ringing and his head spinning.
He didn’t have time to consider it, as Robby’s larger, bulkier form slammed into him, Robby’s knees buckled, and Dennis was suddenly scrambling and bracing to lower both of them carefully to the floor, the best he could under Robby’s weight.
“Robby? Hey, stay with me, keep your eyes open,” Dennis ordered, the words falling out of his mouth as he clutched their partner close. Did they sound further away? He saw the darkening spot on Robby’s upper left abdomen, and he pressed his hand over the wound, hard. “JACK!” Dennis hadn’t ever really screamed before; he didn’t think, but catching their collapsing lover, who was six inches taller and significantly broader as blood began to spread across the front and back of Robby’s scrubs, was enough to make anyone scream in terror.
“Den?” Robby choked, his hands now frantically pulling at his scrub top that was rapidly darkening with blood, where Dennis was pressing his hand down.
“Hey, I’m right here, look at me, you’re going to be fine,” Dennis assured. He barely registered the faint warmth soaking through his own scrubs, so focused on Robby’s blood saturating them. All he could focus on was Robby. Too still, too heavy, and breathing too shallow.
Robby’s eyes shifted to him, and Dennis took the briefest moment to press his own sweaty forehead to Robby’s. “I’m here, baby,” he murmured.
“What the hell happened!?” Jack demanded as he and Mateo arrived with a gurney. The two men worked quickly to get Robby up on the gurney before Jack reached down to help Dennis to his feet.
As he got to his feet, he stumbled slightly, feeling a sense of vertigo over everything that had just happened. “Den?” Jack asked.
“I’m fine,” he insisted as he helped the team move towards one of the trauma rooms. Mateo was already cutting Robby’s scrubs as they got him into the room and put the brakes on.
“Den, you up to helping or not?” Jack questioned.
Dennis focused on the situation and grabbed a pair of gloves from the wall, trying not to think about them already being covered in Robby’s blood. “I’m here.” His voice sounded wrong, far away, too soft. He swallowed and forced himself to return to the bedside. “I’m here,” he replied with a little more force and assurance.
Monitors came alive, beeping irregularly and urgently. “Adult male, GSW to the upper right quadrant. Hypotensive, tachycardic,” one of the nurses was calling out. Dennis couldn’t focus as he tried to figure out how best to help. He grabbed some gauze and pressed against the bullet wound when he noticed the blood leaking from his back. He grabbed more gauze and pressed on both sides, an odd wave of dizziness coursing through him. He locked his knees and focused harder.
“It’s a through-and -through,” he announced, meeting Jack’s eyes across Robby’s form.
Robby was so pale, his eyes half-lidded. Jack nodded. “Breathing’s shallow, get me a non-rebreather. Two large-bore IVs, get two units started, and someone get surgery down here!” Jack shouted.
“IV’s in.”
“Someone hook up the first unit of blood.”
Dennis noticed his hands getting slicker; was he sweating that much? He shook it off, adjusting his grip and pressing down more firmly. The effort made his left side feel oddly heavy in a way he couldn’t understand.
“Dennis,” Jack asked, closer now, causing Dennis to look over. Why did he sound so far away? “Look at me, kid.” Dennis did, but it felt like it took longer than usual. “You’re delayed, you okay?” Jack’s eyes were sharp and assessing.
“I’m fine,” Dennis replied immediately, his focus all on Robby. “I’m fine—don’t pull me. He needs—”
Jack nodded, “I know. You’re doing great, just a bit delayed.”
“You called for a surgical consult—” Garcia stopped mid-word as she stepped in and saw the head of ER lying on the gurney covered in blood. “Christ. Is he stable?”
“Enough, through-and-through to the upper left abdomen. No immediate concerns, other than blood loss; we’re pushing two units now.”
She nodded, “Let’s get him moving then, we’ll update you as soon as we’ve got more info,” she assured Jack, before they unlocked the gurney and pushed Robby out of the room. Leaving behind an exhausted Dennis and worried Jack.
Jack met Dennis’ eyes, giving him a tight smile. Dennis just nodded before he took a step, and the world fell away. The room lurched, and suddenly the floor was rushing up to meet him. The last thing he saw was Jack’s terrified features before the world went black.
o0o0o
The faint crack had everyone’s heads shooting up in the middle of trauma two. Every single instinct in Jack was screaming that sounded far too much like a gun for him. He heard screaming and shouting and looked down at their STEMI, “Stabilize him, and get him up to cardiology—”
Then he heard Dennis’ scream above all else. It cut through all the monitors, shouted orders, and clatter of tools, as sharp and panicked as a mayday. Jack was out the door before he even registered. He was moving; he saw the assumed gunman on the floor, gun now sitting on the floor near Ahmed’s office, while Ahmed and three paramedics wrestled the guy to the ground. As Jack rounded the hub, his stomach dropped to the floor.
He was in shock for a moment, despite his time as a combat medic; nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his beautiful partners collapsing on top of each other, rapidly being covered in blood. Dennis was beneath Robby, clutching him around his waist, sheet white and trembling as he tried to staunch the blood flow.
“Mateo! Gurney,” Jack ordered, jumping into action. “Lena, clear trauma one! Someone call surgery and let them know we’ve got a GSW that needs an OR now!” He rushed to Den’s side. “What the hell happened?”
He and Mateo each grabbed Robby’s sides and lifted. Jack would feel it in his stump and back later, no question, but they managed to get the attending on the gurney. Mateo and other nurses rushed to get him moving towards the trauma room. Jack looked back, offering a hand to Dennis when he noticed the kid was still sitting there, sort of stunned. “Den?”
Blue eyes shot up to his, “I’m fine,” he choked.
Jack had assumed as much up until Dennis said it. Now, he was a bit concerned; he helped the boy to his feet, even more concerned as Dennis teetered briefly. They rushed into movement, the moment gone as they followed into trauma one to find Robby’s scrubs already removed.
Jack called out orders as Dennis stood there for a moment. Jack was rapidly becoming more concerned by Dennis delayed responses. They worked quickly, and despite his slower response times, Dennis was holding his own. Until he called out to hang the first bag of blood. “Dennis? Look at me, kid?” He requested, trying to catch the blue eyes. The boy was as pale as a ghost. “You’re a bit delayed, you okay?” he asked, eyes roving over the boy’s form. Dennis was covered in Robby’s blood, which was enough to traumatize anyone, but this was more than that.
“I’m fine,” Dennis replied immediately, his focus all on Robby. “I’m fine—don’t pull me. He needs—”
Jack nodded, “I know. You’re doing great, just a bit delayed.”
Garcia burst into the room, “You called for a surgical consult—” she froze at the sight of Robby. Garcia didn’t like anyone, but it was clear even she wasn’t completely immune to Robby’s odd charm. “Christ. Is he stable?”
Jack replied immediately, “Enough, through-and-through to the upper left abdomen. No immediate concerns, other than blood loss; we’re pushing two units now.”
She nodded, “Let’s get him moving then, we’ll update you as soon as we’ve got more info,” she assured Jack, before they unlocked the gurney and pushed Robby out of the room.
A couple of nurses milled behind to clean up the worst of the trauma, but Jack just stared at Dennis, who looked like he was stuck in his head. Finally, the blue eyes met Jack’s eyes, and Jack saw so much sadness and pain there. He opened his mouth to assure the younger man, only to watch him take a single step before his knees gave out.
“Dennis!” he shouted as he rushed forward, not close enough to stop Dennis’ descent. “I need help in here!” It was his turn to cry out as he rushed to the kid’s side. It was emotional overload, tunnel vision, before Jack’s world adjusted, focusing like it did when he’d been in the midst of combat, laser focus he looked over Dennis’ scrubs, blood, plenty of it, a little splatter, but no, there was soaked clothing where there shouldn’t be, and without a second thought he ripped the shirt up. “Fuck,” he breathed out, a jagged, angry-looking gunshot wound in the man’s abdomen, just slightly higher than where Robby’s had been.
“Jesus Christ, I thought he was fine,” called Ellis as she stepped into the room and pulled a pair of gloves off the wall. The gurney arrived a moment later with Lena’s help and two other nurses.
“He was shot, same bullet as Robby’s, I think,” Jack called. He stood and helped Ellis get Dennis on the gurney.
“Robby?” Dennis whimpered, grimacing as he was put on the gurney.
“He’s in surgery, baby, stay with me, kid,” Jack ordered gently.
“He’s hypotensive,” Ellis called.
“You think,” Jack snapped. He worked on Dennis with the same precision he’d worked on Robby only minutes earlier, and he struggled to keep his fears and concerns at bay. He’d just had to work on both his partners in one night. There’d be a reckoning with that later.
“He’s tanking,” a nurse called out.
“Dennis, I need you to stay with me!” Jack yelled, right before the monitors began wailing.
“V-fib!”
“No, no, you don’t!” Jack snapped as he began compressions.
o0o0o
Jack stood in the middle of trauma one, watching as they wheeled off Dennis, he felt nauseous. They’d nearly lost him. He could’ve bled out, and they’d have been clueless. “Jack?” a soft voice called.
He glanced up to see Dana step into the room, her eyes wide and horrified, “I heard there was a shooter, and that Robby was hit. Are you okay, honey?”
Jack had served in the Iraq War; he’d seen active combat, he’d lost his leg in it, and he’d been in the ER through COVID. He knew what horror looked like, and yet none of it compared to working on the two men you loved the most in the world in hopes of keeping them alive.
He looked up, his hazel eyes struggling to meet hers, and he slowly shook his head. “Oh, honey,” she whispered as she strode forward and yanked him into a hug. He pressed his head against her shoulder and let out a small, broken sob. She held him close, hands rubbing his back.
Jack took a couple of deep, shaky breaths before he stepped back. He’d never been one for letting go in front of people, and while he’d known Dana for the better part of twenty years, he still wasn’t ready to release all his fears here in the middle of his ER.
Dana stepped back, clearly understanding, before she moved over to one of the carts and pulled out the wet wipes, and then she started cleaning his arms and hands. “Here’s what we’re gonna do: clean you up a bit. Get your coat and stuff from the lockers. Mohan is covering for you tonight, and Trinity is on her way. Then we’re going to head up to surgery and check on your boys.”
Jack gave her a weak nod and allowed her to take the lead for a few minutes, watching as the blood of his partners was wiped away from his hands, leaving them calloused and clean. He stared down at them, flexing his fingers; he could still feel the slick, sticky blood there. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with.
“Ready?” Dana’s voice startled him, and he looked up at her, realizing she’d finished, and he was clean once again. “Jack?”
He nodded, “Yeah, let’s go,” he replied quietly. She stayed by his side, a gentle hand on his back, the warmth of her body beside him as they stopped at his locker, grabbed his jacket, and headed upstairs. In the elevator, he squeezed the metal bar hard enough for it to bite into the skin of his hand.
He could sense that Dana wanted to ask about what had happened, but he appreciated her silence. When the doors finally slid open, the surgical wing greeted him with its usual flurry of activity; the night shift was usually less busy, and primarily for emergency surgeries only. They moved towards the nurse’s hub, and he glanced up at the screen, seeing Robinavitch in Theater Two with Garcia as expected. He glanced down and breathed another sigh of relief when he saw Whitaker in Theater Four with Shamsi. Two of the best surgeons.
“Let’s go sit in the waiting room, I let them know we’re here,” Dana suggested, nudging him gently in the right direction. Once again, he moved numbly through the motions of sitting in the waiting room. The image of Dennis collapsing was playing in his mind on repeat, and it made him feel sick. He was a doctor for fuck’s sake; he should’ve seen it. “Don’t, Jack.” Dana’s voice corrected firmly, “I know what you’re doing, and you can’t do that. You and I both know Dennis is good at hiding things, and it’s possible he didn’t even realize he was hit.”
That didn’t really make Jack feel better. Dennis was, by default, a doctor, caring for everyone; he put everyone before himself constantly. It was both Jack’s favorite thing and the thing he hated the most about the kid. He loved how empathetic and kind Dennis was. But he hated how hard it was to get Dennis to ask for help. Dennis had died because he hadn’t realized or cared that he’d been shot too. “I can’t lose them, Dana. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been.” His voice is rough, and he rubs his hands over his eyes, trying to rub away the tears.
Memories of Mike always being by his side over the last thirty years. In and out at times, sure, but always steadfast. Mike, who’d gotten him through war, who’d gotten him through losing a fucking leg, who’d gotten him through PTSD and flashbacks. Who’d slept at his side for years just to be there when he woke up from a nightmare, until finally, finally, they’d admitted their feelings.
Mike, who had his own mountain of issues, still always managed a smile for Jack. The man who knew everything about him, how he took his coffee, what kind of socks and boxers he preferred, why he hated sitting still, why he couldn’t watch war related movies.
Then there was Dennis. Beautiful, sweet Dennis, who’d only just come into their lives. The kid who made them laugh like they were young again, who challenged them daily, who had so much empathy it seemed to flow out of him like a waterfall. Dennis, who instinctively knew what both Robby and Jack needed on any given day. He knows that when Robby has a bad day, he needs things to be quiet and simple, so he lays out small finger food portion sizes for dinner, he makes the room dark and quiet, ensuring there’s a nice cup of tea for Robby.
Or how, when after a long shift, Jack’s leg is always bothering him and has the shower at the perfect temperature and Jack’s favorite skin cream at the ready to give his leg and stump a massage—something Jack had hated at first, but once he’d allowed it, he’d never turned back. When Jack has a flashback or night terror, afterwards he needs to be left alone with something quiet playing, no touching until Jack’s ready.
Dennis was so young, they called him their baby and angel, but in truth, he was every bit a grown man as Michael and Jack. He’d lived in horror and suffered through abuse. He knew exactly what he wanted when it came to this relationship, and he hadn’t hesitated to step into it with them.
“Those two men are two of the three strongest men I know,” Dana whispered, pressing her forehead to his temple. “They will not leave you by choice, you hear me.”
He gave her a shaky nod, leaning into her touch and arms. “I love you, Dana,” he whispered as they clung to one another.
They sat in silence for a long while, Trinity eventually joining them. Dana immediately embraced the younger girl, supporting her for a moment of tears. Jack wasn’t sure or aware of how long they sat there until Garcia stepped into the room. Trinity stood first, seeing her lover in the room.
“How’s Robby?” Jack asked.
“How’s Dennis?” Trinity asked at the same time.
Garcia glanced at Trinity and gave her a sad smile, “Dr. Shamsi is working on Dennis. I’ll see about getting an update. Robby’s going to be fine. The bullet didn’t hit any major organs or blood vessels. We repaired the tissue damage, were able to control the bleeding, and are now working on replacing the blood. He’s already starting to come around; he’s cranky and sore, but he’ll be fine. We’re settling him in a room shortly; you can see him in about twenty minutes.”
Jack was sure his knees were about to give out as he slowly sank into the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. “Thank god,” he whispered, his hands trembling. “Will—could you put them in the same room once Dennis is out of surgery?”
Garcia nodded, “I’ll see what I can do. Let me go check in with Shamsi.”
“He’s tough,” Trinity whispered, sinking beside Jack.
He glanced over at her; this stoic girl was the definition of fiery. She was certainly a troublemaker, and at first, Jack couldn’t understand what Jack and Trinity had in common enough to make them best friends. But the more he interacted with them, the more he realized they had a similar sibling relationship as Jack had with Dana and Robby had with Dana.
Reaching over, he gently gripped her hand. “The toughest,” Jack replied. He was pleasantly surprised when Trinity squeezed back.
Garcia stepped into the waiting room fifteen minutes later with a grim look on her face. “Okay, Dennis is still in surgery. He didn’t have a clean exit like Robby. Robby’s body took the brunt of the impact, but the bullet fragmented when it entered Dennis, and it also fell in the No man’s land. He lost a lot of blood; it nicked his kidney and his stomach. We’re repairing what we can, but we’re also looking at sepsis risk due to the stomach being hit.”
“Fuck,” choked Trinity, while Jack just rubbed his hands over his face to hide the tears. His whole body was shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or rage over the situation. Dennis had been helping; he’d been doing what he does best.
“I’m sorry, it’s not better news. I can take you to Robby’s room now, and I got confirmation they’ll settle Dennis in the same room as soon as they can.”
“Jack?” Dana asked gently.
He nodded, “I—” he gripped his jaw, hand over his mouth, feeling wrecked. “Robby’s going to hate this. He’s going to blame himself. How the hell am I supposed to explain this?”
“Hey,” Dana crouched in front of him. “You did not do this. You are not at fault. Robby will know that.”
Jack nodded and stood, stiff from sitting for so long. He followed the two women. Trinity stopped outside the OR, where Dennis was on the table. “I’m going to stay here for a bit.”
They both nodded in understanding before following Garcia back to the ICU room 620. Robby’s head was slightly elevated, eyes closed, wires all over him, but he looked relatively unscathed. Garcia left them along and Jack stopped at the room. Dana gripped his hand tight, “We’ll get through it,” she assured softly.
Jack couldn’t remember ever seeing Robby look so weak and small as he was when they stepped into the room. He was a broad man, tall and powerful despite how kind he came across. But now, all Jack could see was the nasal cannula and the paleness of his skin. Tried brown eyes fluttered open and met his. “You look like shit,” Robby mumbled, letting his eyes close for a moment before he opened them again and smiled at the pair.
Jack let out a short, broken laugh and moved across the room in three long strides, grabbing Robby’s hand. He pressed his lips to the dry, cool hand he now held. “You scared the hell out of me, Mike. I’m not sure you’re free to critique appearances when you just got shot.”
Robby’s mouth twitched, “Never been a rule follower.” He smiled at Dana, who was nearing his other side, and ran a hand through his hair. “How bad’s it?”
“You got lucky,” Jack replied, his fingers absently tracing the veins on Robby’s hand.
Robby let out a small huff of air before grimacing and shifting slightly. “Not the word I’d have chosen.”
“It was a through-and-through. Clean, no major organs or blood vessels hit. You’ll be sore and cranky as hell for a couple of weeks, but likely back to normal within a month,” Jack rattled off.
Robby smirked, “Guess I’ll finally be able to take a vacation.” His brown eyes scanned the room, clearly looking for another familiar figure. “Where’s Den?”
Jack glanced over at Dana, not answering right away as he tried to focus past the ache in his chest.
“Jack? He was there, he caught me, I remember falling into his arms, he was holding pressure. I know I scared him—” he shook his head. “Where’s Dennis?”
Jack swallowed heavily, “He’s alive,” Jack assured.
“I would hope so. But then why isn’t he here? He’s not seriously still working, is he?”
“He’s in surgery, Mikey,” Jack explained, his heart breaking at just saying the words.
Tired and hazy eyes sharpened in an instant as Robby lifted his head. “For what?”
“He was also shot…” Dana replied.
Mike shook his head, “I don’t—I don’t understand.”
Jack sighed, clenching his eyes shut, “The bullet hit you, went through you, and…it hit him.”
Silence reigned as Mike tried to process what he’d just been told. Jack leaned down and pressed a kiss to Mike’s hand again. “I’m so sorry,” Jack murmured. “But he’s still alive, he’s still fighting. But the injuries are…serious. Nicked kidney, perforated stomach from the bullet.”
Another shake from Mike, “I…this is my fault. I shouldn’t…we were just talking and—”
“Don’t,” Jack replied shakily, eyes filling with tears. “Don’t you dare. You had no way of knowing, and he risked his life to save yours. We’d both do the same. Dennis made his choice; don’t cheapen it by taking the blame.”
“Are…are we going to lose him?” Robby asked, tears welling in his eyes.
Jack shook his head, “Absolutely not. Dennis is strong as hell. You know that, and I know that.”
“How soon til we know?” Robby whispered.
“I don’t know, soon, hopefully.” Jack replied, “You should get some rest, you need it. I’ll wake you as soon as we know more.”
Robby already looked zonked and let his eyes slide shut with a weak nod. Jack sat and watched him sleep for a while, memorizing every line of the man’s gorgeous face, the wrinkles that hadn’t been there years ago, and the memory of the young man he’d once been against the middle-aged one he was now. Jack smiled at the memory of those days. He wouldn’t trade Dennis for the world; he was the perfect combination for them, but Jack would give anything to be able to go back in time and bring Dennis with them. To enjoy those sweet, beautiful moments once more, but with Dennis alongside them to grow old.
Dana eventually headed downstairs. Trinity had curled up in the corner of the recliner, and Jack had taken the chair for now.
It was the sound of the door being pushed open, followed by nurses coming in and out of the room, that alerted Jack to Dennis’ arrival. Three sets of eyes opened as Dennis was wheeled into the room. He looked painfully small, pale beneath the harsh hospital lighting. Chest falling and rising with the mechanical woosh of the ventilator. A clear tube ran from his mouth, an all too familiar image for Jack and the other occupants of the room. Lines and leads seemed to be coming from everywhere, an IV in each arm, a central line at his neck, with tubing that disappeared under the blanket. His stomach was covered by a thick surgical dressing.
Jack heard Robby’s sharp intake of breath at the first real image of the kid. Jack heard it, but he felt it beneath his breastbone. The pain of seeing the man they loved unmoving. He was transferred with efficiency; his gurney stopped, and the brakes were put on. Monitors set up and stabilized.
Dr. Shamsi was the last to step in, watching with patience as everyone moved around Dennis. “As I’m sure Dr. Garcia mentioned, the bullet perforated his stomach, causing the gastric contents to spill into the abdominal cavity. We repaired the stomach and irrigated the cavity thoroughly. Additionally, we’ve placed drains to monitor for leakage or signs of infection.”
“How long are you going to keep him sedated?” Robby asked, eyes still on Dennis’ unmoving form.
“Likely two, maybe three days, depending on his progress,” Shamsi nodded once she watched everything finish being set up. “Get some rest, call us if you need anything.”
Robby’s head was still tilted over to stare at Dennis; Jack moved his chair to sit between the pair, and Trinity had come up and was carefully maneuvering herself to lie beside Dennis on the bed. She glared at Robby and Jack, as if daring them to comment. “You tell anyone you saw this, and I will end you both.”
Jack smirked, “I didn’t see shit.”
Robby grinned, exhaustion still written all over his features, “I was asleep.”
o0o0o
Jack had received an update from Dana downstairs that the police would be by in the morning around 10 to talk to Robby. The shooter had been arrested, and with as many witnesses as there were, it was unlikely he’d see outside again for a long time. At some point, Robby had well and truly dropped off to sleep. He’d tried a few times already, but the exhaustion eventually won out and pulled him under.
There was a high-pitched crack, followed by shouting and screaming echoing all around him. He watched people he’d been side by side with for decades diving for cover. He turned, trying to figure out what to do, where to go if there was an active shooter, but his feet slipped, and he crashed to the floor.
His eyes opened from the fall, and he saw Dennis lying there, prone, a giant puddle of blood slowly growing on the floor. “Dennis?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Blue eyes were open and staring at him, unwavering and dead. “No…Dennis?” he asked as he pushed through the thick, vicious liquid on the floor and gently gripped the younger man’s face in his now bloodied hands. “Dennis, baby?”
“Robby?” He heard Jack.
“Denny’s been shot!” Robby cried, trying to look back over his shoulder, as he got onto his knees and began compressions, each pump forcing more liquid from the boy’s body. “Dennis!”
“Robby?” Jack cried again.
“Baby, please, open your eyes,” Robby shook the younger man.
“Robby!” A forceful shake, followed by a surge of pain through his front abdomen and back, jolted him awake, his eyes shooting open. His heart slammed in his chest, and a groan slid from his lips as he tried to curl forward and away from the pain. A firm, confident set of hands gently gripped his back and chest. “You’re safe, it was just a dream.”
Robby shook his head, vaguely aware his face was damp with more than just sweat. “I saw him, he was—” he gripped his mouth, squeezing to keep the words hidden in the back of his throat.
“He’s not,” Jack assured, “Look, he’s still right there.”
Robby turned his head from where it was resting on Jack’s shoulder and looked at the two young residents curled in the bed. Dennis was still unmoving with the respirator, and Trinity Santos curled up at his side.
“How the fuck do you survive this?” Cursed Robby, COVID had been bad, watching Adamson die, and the panic attacks were nothing to sneeze at. But this felt monumental.
Jack sighed, “Come on, man. You know better than anyone, I barely did that first year.” Jack shook his head, his memories of those first weeks and months after losing his leg, just barely keeping his head above water. “If the only good thing to come out of that was being able to help with this, then I’ll take it.”
“The shooter was the father of a kid that died two days ago, his wife had left him, he was so angry before the kid died,” Robby whispered, the words relieving some of the agony he felt in his chest.
“How’d he die?”
Robby looked over at Jack, finally, “Suicide. Den’s the one who found the note in his pocket. Kid was gay, dad couldn’t accept it, and mom wanted nothing to do with either of them.”
“Fuck, how’d Dennis take it?”
“I subtly kicked him out as soon as we found the note, told him we could take care of it, and he should go help other patients.” Robby shook his head, “Dennis wanted so badly to help that kid, but it was clear we’d gotten to him too late. I’m so afraid he sees himself in each of those kids that it’ll trigger him one day.”
Jack nodded, “Maybe, but we’ll be here if it does. Denny knows he isn’t alone.”
“Jack—”
“I know,” Jack murmured and gently held his partner and best friend. “We’ll get through this.”
o0o0o
Three days later, Robby was due to be discharged, but he’d fought it tooth and nail, at least wanting to stay until Dennis was awake. They’d cut back on the sedative for him since last night and were hoping the kid would wake up this morning.
Jack and Robby were in the middle of splitting breakfast from a place down the street that they liked. Homemade bagels and coffee, when they heard a soft whine. “Den?” Jack stood, setting his bagel down on the rolling table, and moved towards Dennis.
Familiar blue eyes were half awake and wide as the kid’s hands came up to fight the tubing. Jack quickly grabbed him, “Hey, don’t fight it, Mouse,” he encouraged. Dennis looked around the room frantically, the alarms starting to detect the change in his heart rate and BP. A nurse stepped into the room.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Dennis woke up, I think he’d like us to remove the ventilator,” Jack gestured to the gloves on the wall. She nodded, grabbing a pair for him and herself, handing them over. “Okay, sweetheart, you know how this works. On the count of three, I want you to blow out as hard as you can.”
Dennis nodded weakly, fear clear in his eyes as his hand gripped Jack’s shirt. “Okay—one…two…three,” He pulled the tube straight up, and out. Dennis coughed and spat into an emesis bowl the nurse provided. “Good boy,” Jack encouraged, gently rubbing the younger man’s back as Dennis went limp against him.
“Alright, stats are all holding, I think given you two, I’ll give you all some space.” She took the tubing and the bowl and left the trio.
“Want some water or coffee, Mouse?” Jack asked.
“Mmm, coffee?” his voice sounded like he’d been choking on gravel. Jack smiled and grabbed his cup, gently holding it so Dennis could take a tiny sip. Dennis glanced over for the first time and noticed Robby, handing the coffee back he beamed at the older man. “Hey.”
“Hey, kid. You had us worried.”
Dennis moaned and leaned back on his pillow, “Sorry, you ok?”
“I am now,” Robby replied, his voice a little shaky. “God kid, it’s good to see you awake.”
Dennis gave him a wain smile, his eyes sliding shut, before he fell back asleep. Jack sank to the edge of his bed, just staring at the younger man.
“Are you okay, Yankl?” Robby asked quietly, eyeing his partner.
Jack’s eyes were burning with tears; he was trying to control the overwhelming relief he felt. He’d spent the last three days focused on taking care of Robby and his nightmares, he’d been worrying about Dennis and the fear of not waking up, despite knowing he was improving. It didn’t matter how familiar he was with medicine and how long he’d been doing this job, he still couldn’t quite convince himself that Dennis was going to be okay.
“I was so scared,” Jack whispered through a choked voice, covering his eyes.
“Baby,” Robby whispered, he held his hand out, reaching for the man. Jack got up, almost hesitating, wanting to crawl onto the bed with the kid and hold him too. Robby gripped his fingers as soon as he was close enough to reach and pulled him into a hug.
“I could’ve lost you both, and I wouldn’t have even known,” he whispered as he curled into Robby’s arms.
Robby wrapped both his arms around Jack and rested his head on Jack’s head. “I’m sorry, Yankl. I’m so sorry this happened. I’m sorry we scared you.”
Jack let out a wet chuckle, “You idiot, this wasn’t your fault.” He buried his face against Robby’s neck.
“I love you,” Robby murmured into his hair. “Both of you so damn much.”
“I love you too, asshole.”
End