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“So any crazy plans for tonight, Huckleberry?”
“I’m making dinner and doing laundry.”
“Laundry, is that code for something?” Trin wags her eyebrows obnoxiously.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”
“Boo, you’re no fun.”
“That’s me, the fun sucker.”
“Oh, I’m sure you-”
“Trinity, I am begging you not to finish that sentence, please.”
Trin cackles, goes back to typing. He pulls up the chart for South 16. Sees that the test results are back. Excellent. Brings them up, sees that it’s what he thought. Just a UTI. Also excellent. Checks to see if the bloodwork for North 2 is back, and it is, not. Less excellent. Ah, well, can’t win ‘em all. Goes ahead and puts the order for some antibiotics in, because he has a feeling Miss Ellie Dupree in South 16 isn’t going to say no to them. Especially when he tells her they’re for a run-of-the-mill UTI and not something more serious.
“H-hula hoop,” someone shouts from West 13 behind him, “Hu-”
He’s moving before he even fully registers the words.
Hears the rolling of a chair that he knows means Trin is moving too. Recognizes the voice as Emma, high-pitched and clearly terrified. Is running before he’s even made the conscious choice to. Bursts into the room, takes it all in in a split second. Emma, pinned to the wall by the patient. She looks terrified, and that’s all it takes. He’s moving. Across the room, hooks an arm around the man’s neck, pulls him backwards. Off Emma. Redirects his anger onto himself. Isn’t worried about Emma, knows Trin will take care of her.
Sees the punch coming in enough time to think oh shit, but not enough to dodge it. All well. At least it wasn’t Emma. Hears her gasp, sees the man look to her. Like he’s thinking of going after her again. No, that won’t do. Pushes the man back, tries to get him against the wall instead. Tries to pin him until security gets there. Knows they’ll be there soon. It works, kinda. Hears metal clang to the floor, like the man knocked over the supply cabinet. Prefers a mess to Emma being hurt. Knows she’s probably going to have bruises as it is. This man’s in for a world of hurt when Dana gets wind of this.
The man takes another swing, and he manages to dodge it. Mostly. Kinda. Not really, but it’s fine. He can take a punch. Hears Trin in the hall, calling for security. Emma’s screaming, and he wants to tell her it’s okay, I’ve taken much worse hits before, don’t worry. Doesn’t get the chance, because another fist catches his cheek. Stops paying attention to Trin and Emma to pay attention to the man. Catches both his hands in one of his, pins them so he’ll stop hitting him. Uses his body weight to keep him in place, against the wall. It pisses him off more, but he doesn’t care. Let him be mad, as long as he stays where Dennis wants him.
Hears the pounding of feet, voices. Focuses only on making sure that the man stays where he is. He’s yelling something. The man. Nothing that bears repeating. Nothing he hasn’t heard before, either, from his Pa, his brothers, the kids at school. Can tell there’s other people in the room now. Security, he realizes, when other hands come to grab the man, too. Good. Lets go. Lets them handle it, now that they’re here. Hears others, too, Robby and Langdon, asking what happened. Hears Trin answering, rapid fire. Has to all but shout to be heard over the man who’s still yelling curses, pinned by Ahmad.
Goes to Emma, to check that she’s okay. Knows Trin likely already did, but he needs to see for himself. Because she was pinned and scared and he needs to make sure she’s alright now. She’s got one hand on her throat, when he gets there, and he nods to it, a silent it okay if I touch. Gets a nod back, examines her. Ignores her when she says, what about you. He’s fine, just a couple punches. Nothing he hasn’t had before. Thanks God or who the fuck ever that it doesn’t look like he had her pinned for long, or very hard. Sore, but no deep bruising. He’ll send her for a CTA, just in case. Better safe than sorry, but he thinks she’ll be fine. Physically, at least, mentally is another story, but he’ll let Dana handle that. Knows how protective she is of her cubs, uh, nurses.
“I’m gonna send you for a scan, just to be safe, okay?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“I’m good, I’ve got a thick skull. I’ll put that order in now, okay? How about you go wait with Dana for transport.”
“You need seen too.”
Wonders if maybe he cracked her head into the wall. She seems, off. Like maybe she has a concussion. Pulls out his pen light. Hears Trinity giving her account of the events to Ahmad, who’s taking notes. Realizes the man’s been restrained. Checks her pupils. Even, responding to light. Good, that’s good. Unlikely she has a concussion. He’ll make a note to check for damage from one, just to be safe. She still seems, alarmed. Which, he supposes, he would be too, if he was just attacked by a patient. Still, better safe than sorry. Would never forgive himself if he overlooked something.
“How’s the patient?” Robby asks, coming up behind him.
“I’m gonna order a CTA, just in case.”
“Good call. How you feeling, Emma? Nausea, dizziness, pain?”
“I’m fine,” she says, “but he isn’t.”
“I took a couple hits, I’m fine.”
“No,” she cuts in before Robby can even start trying to mother hen him, “that.”
Points to him, to his chest, specifically. Follows her finger. Sees, he has no idea what he sees. Silver. Sticking out several inches. Tilts his head, tries to make sense of what he’s seeing. Isn’t until he sees the word Bard on the end that he realizes what he’s looking at. It’s a scalpel handle. Sticking out of his chest. Blinks at it. Because that’s, not supposed to be there. Remembers the supply cart falling over. Did he, did he manage to grab a scalpel from on top and stab him with it? Must have, given that there’s one in him right now. Huh. Reaches for it.
“Hey, no, let’s leave that there,” Robby scolds, voice gentle.
Yeah, no, right. Pulling it out would probably be bad. Should keep it in. He’s a doctor, he knows that. Wasn’t gonna pull it out. Probably. Isn’t sure what he was going to do, honestly. Confirm it was really there, he supposes. Can’t really feel it, even though he’s looking right at it. Knows that’s the adrenaline talking. Knows it’s a hell of a drug. Also knows it’s gonna wear off, eventually. Looks back up, understands now why Emma’s looked the way she has this entire time. Because she’s been staring at him with a scalpel handle sticking out of his chest while he acted like it was no big deal. Also understands why she was screaming earlier. Probably saw him get stabbed.
“Sorry," he says, because he doesn't like that she was scared because of him.
“No, I’m sorry. You got hurt because of me,” looks close to tears as she says it.
“It’s not that bad,” shrugs off Robby when he tries to corral him to the door.
“You have a scalpel in your chest.
“Yeah, I do. I’m gonna, go get that taken out now. You, uh, go get your scan, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Dana,” he calls, because she still looks scared and he doesn’t want to leave her alone when she looks like that, “Dana.”
“Here. Sweet Jesus, what happened to you?”
“There was an incident,” he answers, deadpan, leans in, “Stay with her, please. She’s pretty shook up.”
“You got it. Go, I got her.”
“Thank you.”
Lets Robby herd him from the room. And something about crossing the threshold from West 13 to the hallway saps the adrenaline right out of him. Feels, all at once, like he’s been stabbed in the chest. Because he has. By what is, admittedly, a narrow knife. But a stab is a stab. Stops walking, leans into Robby. Rests his forehead on his chest, gasps for air through the pain. Because it didn’t hurt before, when he had someone else to worry about, but it sure as fuck does now. Now that he knows Emma’s okay, safe in Dana’s capable hands. Now, it really fucking hurts. Which, yeah, he has a scalpel in his chest.
“Hurts,” he wheezes into Robby’s shirt, because Robby will know how to fix it.
Hears a flurry of movement, not that he looks up to see it. Next thing he knows, there’s a gurney and he’s being directed onto it by Trin and Langdon. Robby keeps pace as they move towards one of the trauma rooms. Has no idea which one. Knows they’ll want to check that it didn’t hit anything vital. Lets them handle it, trusts them all. Robby stays near his head. Can’t work on him, too close. But Trin’s there, and Langdon, Princess too. Knows none of them will let anything bad happen to him.
“Looks like they’ll be no doing laundry tonight, Huckleberry,” Trin teases, as she positions the ultrasound probe.
“Is that code for something?” Langdon asks, eyes cutting to Robby for half a second before going back to the screen he was looking at.
“ORs on the way down,” Princess cuts in, saving him from having to answer.
Looks up at Robby, whose eyes are on the ultrasound screen. Taps his side, scrunches a finger until he leans down to be on his level. Because he needs him with him as Michael, not Dr. Robinavitch right now. Because he’s in pain and he really just needs his boyfriend. Thinks Robby gets it. Kisses his forehead, takes one of his hands in his. Gives it a squeeze, as if to say you’re gonna be okay. Gives him one back, I know I will be, you’re here. Sees the corner of his mouth turn up, knows he got the message.
“What’s up, party peo- what the hell happened?” Garcia’s voice rings out.
“Hula hoop,” Langdon answers.
“That’s a scalpel, not a hula hoop.”
“No it,” Langdon starts to explain, cuts himself off when he sees the shit-eating grin on Garcia’s face, “Tip your waitresses, she’s here all week.”
“You know it. Let me take a look.”
Smiles at the eye roll Robby sends him. Can you believe these two? Garcia comes over, takes a look at the ultrasound results. Examines the entry point. Asks a few questions that he pays no attention to. Just looks at Robby, because he’s nice to look at. Pretty. Not that he likes when he calls him that. Too old to be pretty. But he is. Pretty and handsome and gorgeous and sexy and pretty.
“So, so pretty,” he mutters, reaching out to trace a hand over the lines by Robby’s eyes.
“You two need a minute alone?” Garcia asks, tone all teasing.
Doesn’t register that he said that out loud until he realizes how red Robby’s face has gotten. Whoopsie. Didn’t mean to do that. Isn’t upset about it, though. Because he is, and everyone should know he thinks so. Trin snorts from wherever it is she’s standing. No doubt not surprised at all. Has heard him wax poetic about Robby far too often. Knows just about every thought he’s ever had about the man. Langdon’s clearly trying not to laugh too, and is failing miserably. Princess isn’t even trying to hide her snickers.
“Are we good to move you now, or do you want to tell us more about how beautiful you find your man?” Garcia ribs.
“Can’t we just remove it down here?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“No,” everyone in the room shouts, at the same time.
“But my shift.”
“Only you would be worried about work with a scalpel in your chest, Huckleberry.”
“Or Robby,” Langdon adds, “I’ve seen him break a bone and keep working.”
“We’re talking about that later,” Dennis interjects, because that’s news to him.
“Match made in, who even knows where. Ready to roll, White Chocolate?”
“Not like I have a choice.”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s go.”
“Wait.”
Reaches for Robby, doesn’t even care that there’s a bunch of their co-workers in there with them. Pulls him down to kiss him. Because he needs to do it. Kisses him because he’s about to get surgery and he wants to so he does. Robby kisses him back. Knows that right now, he’s running through every single thing that could go wrong. Knows he knows that none of those things will, but they could. Knows he’s kissing him, in full view of several of their coworkers, because it might be his last chance. Knows he’d never forgive himself if something did happen and he didn’t kiss him goodbye.
“May I remind you that you’ve been stabbed and I’d really like to get that out of you now. You can suck face after, promise.”
Robby pulls back with a huff that was probably meant to be a laugh, “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“See you in a bit.”
“Give me an hour, hour and a half tops, and he’ll be all yours.”
***
The surgery takes an hour and fifteen minutes. Goes beautifully, according to what Garcia tells him when he wakes up. Nothing vital was hit, didn’t even have any bleeders. A cakewalk, Funky Music, at least bring me a challenge next time. Is alone in the recovery room for all of three minutes before the doors open, and Robby’s there. Comes over to the bedside, sits in the chair there. Takes his hand in his. Kisses his palm. Laces their fingers together. Dennis doesn’t say anything, just taps his lips until Robby gets the hint and leans up to kiss him for real.
“Mmm, better.”
“All healed now?”
“Mhmm, kisses fix everything.”
Robby snorts a laugh. Looks over at the monitor, checks his vitals. Dennis lets him, knows he’s only doing it to reassure himself that he’s okay. Knows he needs it. It wasn’t a serious injury, all things considered. But it could have been. Had it hit him just a little differently, it could have been. Could have hit his heart, his lungs. Could have been really bad. Is lucky as hell that it didn’t. Understands that Robby needs to take a second to be a doctor, to check with his own eyes that he really is alright.
“How’s Emma?”
“Good. Scans came back normal. She’s been stuck to Dana like glue.”
“Her choice or Dana’s?”
“Yes.”
They both laugh. Robby checks his vitals again, like they would have changed in the last five seconds. They haven’t. But he checks them anyway. And Dennis lets him. Because he can tell this scared him, even if he’s trying not to show it. Settles into the bed, because the anesthesia is still wearing off and he’s still tired. Watches Robby watch his monitor. Lets him look for two more minutes, before he redirects his attention back to him. Knows if he lets him, he’ll keep his eyes on it, won’t look away. Links their fingers back together, rubs his thumb over the back of his hand. Squeezes, I’m okay. Feels Robby do it back, I know.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why are people calling me Laundry now?”
Dennis startles, looks over at him. Robby manages to keep a serious expression, all confusion, for about three seconds before letting it fall. Breaks into laughter and Dennis follows him into it. It’s nice, to laugh after an incident like that. Better than screaming, that’s for sure. And getting to hear Robby laugh, no matter the circumstance, is always his favorite sound. Especially when it’s like this. Deep and real, from his belly. Those lines he loves are back, and he reaches for them. Traces them with a single finger. Because he wants to and he can so he does.
“So pretty.”
“Yes, so you’ve said.”
“You are.”
“Too old to be pretty.”
“You’ll always be pretty to me.”
Robby rolls his eyes. Dennis tugs at their joined hands, tugs and tugs and tugs. And it takes a couple times until Robby understands what he wants but he gets there. Moves so he’s sitting on the bed with him. Let's Dennis lean into his side. Wraps an arm around him, lets him snuggle in. Kisses the top of his head. Dennis closes his eyes, because he’s still tired. Knows he will be, anesthesia and all that. Might as well use the best pillow in the world, his boyfriend, and take a little nap. Figures if Robby needs to go back downstairs, he’ll tell him, or just move him off him, if he’s sleeping. Has almost drifted off when he remembers.
“Robby?” he mumbles.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“About that bone you broke.”
“I’m gonna kill Langdon.”
Giggles, even as he drifts off, makes a note to ask about it again when he wakes up. And to make sure that Langdon is still alive.