Chapter Text
The waiting room was almost worse than his aching face, knuckles, and body combined. Everything was loud and bright and cramped and it was setting Andrew on edge. He sat in his chair with his back straight, staring at a small stain on the wall opposite him. Around him people coughed and moaned and made other general sounds of sickness and misery. It was disgusting and it was starting to make his skin crawl. He didn’t want to be there, surrounded by disease, but he had promised Jack. Andrew grimaced at the thought of his brother who would no doubt be extremely upset when he found out that Andrew was at his work, beaten and bloody no less. But he would take an angry Jack over being sent back to California and back to her. Andrew’s expression darkened further as Smurf crossed his mind.
He was extremely grateful for his brother, who had been so kind as to offer him a home after he pretty much ran away from California. When Smurf had asked him to kill Cath, she had crossed a line. He couldn’t take Lena’s mother from her, even if Cath was a liar and a manipulator. So, even though it hurt, he left behind Lena and the only life he’d ever known. He just couldn’t do it anymore. Andrew inhaled sharply, trying to stop his thoughts before they started racing. Thankfully, he didn’t have the chance to fully spiral.
“Andrew Cody,” called the woman at the front desk in a bored drawl. He stood up quickly, trying to school his face into a neutral expression. “You can go on back,” the woman said, jerking a thumb towards the double doors that led to the Pitt (as his brother liked to call it). Andrew nodded at her and strode through the doors, eyes immediately scanning for Jack. He ignored the double takes that many of the staff were doing (he doubted that many of them knew Jack had a brother) and made his way to where Jack was chatting with another doctor.
“Andrew? What are you doing here?” Jack asked, concern evident in his voice.
“You told me to come,” Andrew said stiffly. He wondered briefly if he had made a mistake doing this. He really shouldn’t have bothered Jack with something so trivial, he had only been beaten a little. Jack’s face contorted and he sighed. Andrew tensed slightly, ready to be yelled at, but Jack just placed a hand on his arm and dragged him to an empty room. When Andrew was settled on the bed, Jack grabbed a tray with some medical supplies on it and closed the curtain.
“What was it this time?” He asked tiredly, probing at Andrew’s face, feeling for any kind of break.
“I got in a fight,” Andrew admitted quietly. Jack didn’t reply, but Andrew could practically feel the disappointment radiating from him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it and I shouldn’t have come here.” Jack was going to kick Andrew out. He must’ve realized by now that Andrew was more fucked up than ever. But Jack’s face softened.
“Andrew, I was the one who made you promise to get checked out if this happened again. I’m glad you followed through on your word,” he reassured. “I’m not angry.” Jack was too good to him. “I’m going to need you to take off your shirt so that I can check your ribs.” Andrew complied, folding the fabric neatly and placing it beside him. His torso was littered with blooming bruises in varying shades of black and blue. The curtain rustled behind Jack.
“Dr. Abbot?” The person responsible for the intrusion was the most beautiful man that Andrew had ever seen. “Walsh asked me to come find you. Something about a car crash victim?” His eyes ventured to Andrew and seemed to focus on his unclothed abs. The man’s face went red.
“Thanks Whitaker,” Jack said. “Do me a favor kid? Finish cleaning up my brother for me?” The other doctor, Whitaker, nodded. Jack flashed him a smile and clapped Andrew gently on the shoulder. “You’re in good hands. Come find me before you leave.” With that he left the room, off to save another life.
Andrew looked the guy up and down, eyes lingering on the muscle evident beneath his scrubs. He looked nervous, the energy only amplified by his wide, tired eyes. But Jack trusted him, so Andrew probably could too.
“Hi, I’m Dennis.” He sounded midwestern. “You’re Jack’s brother?”
“Yes. Andrew.”
“It’s nice to meet you Andrew. May I ask what happened?”
“I got into a fight. Jack already said there’s nothing broken in my face.”
“Alright,” Dennis said. “I’m going to look at your ribs and then I’ll clean up your hands.” Dennis felt his ribs, pressing on a bruise and making Andrew hiss.
“Sorry,” Andrew muttered, embarrassed.
“Don’t be,” Dennis smiled. He must’ve been able to tell that Andrew was uncomfortable because he awkwardly tried to make conversation.
“Dr. Abbot’s mentioned you before but he said you lived pretty far away. Did you just move here? Do you have any other family in the area?”
“I moved here last month. It’s just me, Jack, and Robby.” The last thing that Andrew wanted to do was get into his family trauma with the hot doctor feeling up his bare chest.
“You live with them?”
“Jack took me in when he found out I wanted to leave.”
“Leave what?” Andrew frowned. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Dennis backtracked. He sounded genuinely apologetic.
“Leave our family.” Andrew looked up to meet Dennis’s eyes and was pleasantly surprised to find no judgement. There was something else in his gaze, something tragic.
“I get that.” Dennis’s face dropped for a moment before his cheerful demeanor returned. “You obviously have a lot of bruising, but the good news is your ribs are fine.” He turned to grab a damp towel from the tray. Slowly, he reached out and grabbed Andrew’s hand. He turned it over and started to clean the split knuckles.
“You’re good at that,” Andrew commented, thinking out loud more than anything. “Gentle.”
“Thank you.” Dennis’s face was red again. Neither of them spoke after that, Dennis busy with Andrew’s hands and Andrew busy watching Dennis. His hair that curled softly against his forehead and the base of his neck. His tanned skin, the kind of color you only get from hours outside. He wondered what Dennis liked to do in his free time, where he liked to go. If he was seeing anybody.
Dennis pulled away then, standing up and sticking his head out the door.
“It looks like Dr. Abbot is done with the patient. You’re free to go Andrew.”
“Oh,” Andrew said, pretending not to be disappointed. “Thank you Dennis.” He followed Dennis out of the room and spotted Jack by the entrance to the waiting room.
“Bye Andrew,” Dennis smiled at him. Andrew felt the corner of his own lips quirk up.
“Bye Dennis.”
Jack walked him out, eyeing him sideways.
“You’re smiling.”
“So?” Andrew asked defensively. Jack put his hands up in surrender. Andrew decided to go for it. “How well do you know Dennis?” Jack gave him another look.
“Robby’s closer to the kid than I am, but he’s pretty good at what he does. He’s working nights this week since Crus is out and he likes to join us here and there but he mostly sticks with day shift. Why do you ask?” Jack’s tone was slightly accusatory.
“No reason,” Andrew muttered. “I’ll see you later.” Jack knocked his shoulder against Andrew’s.
“Stay out of trouble.”
Back at Jack’s house (his house too technically, but calling it his felt wrong), Andrew said a quick greeting to Robby and went to his room. He tossed and turned for a few hours, unable to stop thinking about Dennis. The way he’d looked at Andrew, the way his hands had felt, the way that Dennis had blushed when he’d first seen him and again when Andrew had complimented him, the way that he hadn’t looked at Andrew with any judgment. Dennis seemed like the perfect man, someone that Andrew could maybe spend more time with. No. He shouldn’t, not with one of Jack’s coworkers. Especially not one that he and Robby both liked. This would never go farther than whatever had happened between them today. It couldn’t.
But as much as Andrew wanted to, he couldn’t get soft curls and sad eyes out of his mind.