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Dennis had grown oddly accustomed to watching doctors come and go from his room over the last 72 hours. It was strangely calming to know that Dr Abbot would come back to talk to him, to know that Dana was going to smile at him and offer a hug; maybe he’d get another chance to talk with Santos about his bridges. He still dreaded seeing Dr Robby, and that made him feel slightly guilty.
He had watched Dr Abbot run off towards a trauma he’d only managed to grasp half words of. His right wrist, where it sat limply on the bed beside his thigh, was left unrestrained. It was a small mistake, one that most ER’s would probably brush off. But Dennis knew that after everything that had happened up to this point, the restraint being left off was both a test for him and a test for the staff.
He could run.
Dennis wouldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind.
He thought about undoing his other arm, grabbing his pants and shoes, and making a break for it.
Then he thought of Dr Abbot and the apology he had offered Dennis, as if he was the one who made the kid smack his head to the point of a TBI.
He thought of Dana and Dr Santos, who had asked him to talk more about Nebraska. Dr Santos, who had taken his favorite photo of the bridge.
He thought of Dr Broody, who still half-smiled at the nickname, but had been avoiding Dennis since yesterday.
Had he done something wrong? Did he say something when speaking with Dr Jefferson and Kiara that had set Robby off?
Dennis didn’t know if he’d ever find out.
So there he sat, in behavioral health, with half a restraint and a whole lot of resolve, waiting.
When the door swung back open, revealing a sweaty and dark eyed Dr Abbot, Dennis didn’t even bother with a half hearted greeting.
“Shit, kid,” Abbot let himself fall into the chair against the wall with a huff. His head bowed as a large palm ran through sweat soaked curls. Dennis could only watch silently, tracking the movements with caution.
“I’m not going to bother asking if you’re okay,” Dennis stated instead, earning himself a chuckle from the Attending. Abbot sighed, lifted his head, and took Dennis in with one sweep of his eyes. Eyes that immediately latched onto the missing restraint. Eyes that traveled back up with a quirked eyebrow to meet Dennis’s own gaze.
Dennis shrugged. “Y’all forgot. Thought it’d be easier to wait and leave, than run.”
“If you did, you’d have lost me the bet,” Abbot grunted as he shifted on the chair, straightening out his right leg with a click. Dennis watched again, eyes still tracking the motion of the older man.
“Bet?”
Abbot nodded, “We’re a weird emergency room, kid. We place bets on everything. I placed a large sum on you sticking through discharge and even staying a little longer after. You don’t want me to lose money, do you?”
“That feels…mildly unethical. To bet on patients, that is.”
“Some would argue it is; if we don’t bring patient care into it, then one could argue it’s not. I try not to bet, but you have made one hell of a fight these last three days.” Dennis blushed, and his right hand shot up to cover his face as much as he could.
“I’m sorry…for everything. These last three days have been a lot, emotionally and physically. I don’t think I realized how much help I actually needed. Admitting that in the first place was the hardest damn thing.” Dennis shrugged at the smiling Attending.
“Do you think the meds are working?” Abbot continued smiling as Dennis finally lowered his hand, the blush fading slowly.
“I think so? It’s hard to tell.” Dennis paused before rapping his knuckles against the temple of his head.
“He’s finally shut up, so I think we could call that a win?” Dennis smiled at his own peril. Truthfully, he hadn’t heard the other voice for maybe 8 hours now; it was blissful, silent, empty, and his head finally stopped aching. Not that he was completely healed, Dennis didn’t know if he’d ever find the golden trophy of being “normal”.
“Well, that’s good at least. Do you think you’d want to talk to Robby when he gets here?”
“Do you think Dr Broody wants to talk to me?”
Abbot’s smile slipped a little, like a secret was aching to get out but held tough behind well built walls. Dennis didn’t miss it, though.
“I’m not going to give him a choice. I’ll be damned if he ruins our vacation brewing in his own self hatred.”
“He sounded really excited about it the other day.” Dennis adjusted himself on the bed, knees drawn up to his chest, right arm hugging around his calves.
“He has been for weeks now. Unbearable is what he is.” Abbot doesn’t say it with any malice; instead, a smile threatens his face again. Dennis is curious if the doctor in front of him has ever really smiled as much as he had that shift. Maybe it was the upcoming vacation?
“He promised to bring me a photo of a sunrise.” Dennis offered it to the room like it was a simple statement. Like 72 hours ago, he hadn't been standing on a bridge about to jump, hadn’t thought to himself just one more sunrise multiple times the past week. He said it like he hadn’t openly admitted just yesterday that he wanted to go back to that bridge. Abbot stiffened temporarily before relaxing with a deep breath, letting his shoulders slouch with a twitch.
“He did, did he? Well, that means you’ll have to stay in contact, I guess. So we can have you pick it up.”
Silence fell over the room as the two simply existed in each other's space. Conversations forgotten, air holding steady as bodies passed outside the glass door. It was Abbot who broke the silence with the buzzing of his phone.
“Robby’s here.”
Dennis didn’t flinch at the statement, not that he expected himself to. Abbot said it like he was expecting backlash, like it would set Dennis off again. Dennis hoped that it wouldn’t.
“Before you send him in, can you tell him I don’t expect an apology? He did nothing wrong the other day; he reacted as any normal person would. You can’t dictate how someone else’s trauma will trigger your own. He deserves to give himself a little grace.”
Abbot huffed a light laugh as he moved to stand up. The movement was slow, body settling back into place as he stretched upwards.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, mouse. I’ll send him in.”
Dennis watched the curly haired man leave the room, the door swinging shut behind him. He let his attention wane as the central hub got busy again, foot traffic escalating as shift change got under way.
He let his mind wander into thoughts of discharge, followups, scheduling at the outpatient facility, and maybe asking Jefferson for a referral to inpatient.
“Heard you were okay talking to me?” The deep voice pulled Dennis from his own mind violently. He jolted, eyes immediately moving to Dr Robby’s, who entered the room slowly, letting the door hang open behind him. Dennis tried to reel the surprise back in, willing his heart to calm.
“Morning, Dr Broody.” Robby smiled at that, letting himself fall into the same chair Abbot had been sitting in moments ago.
“Good morning to you, too, mouse.” An awkward silence fell over the room for a moment, the two merely existing in each other's presence.
It’s Robby who breaks the silence with the tap of his finger on a knee hidden behind cargo pants.
“Jack told me not to apologize, which I find insulting. To both you and me. The way I reacted wasn't…professional, and I wish it had gone differently.”
“I’ll accept your not apology, on the condition that you accept mine.”
Robby looked up, confused, watching Dennis shift on the bed as the request itself brought him discomfort.
“I was raised to be polite and courteous, no matter how hard my trials may be. I have not been that way the few days I have been here…”
“You were in crisis,” Robby interrupted. Dennis replied with a glare and continued.
“And yet you were still deserving of respect. I cannot thank you enough for the help you have given me and the patience you have shown me.”
Robby sighed, his chest expanding with the breath like it was an excuse for his brain to think of a response. I’m just doing my job, or the classic, you’d do it for me. Robby could give the kid on the bed in front of him every excuse in the book for the last few days. Truthfully, Robby just wanted to pull Dennis close and thank him for helping his ER change.
“I don’t think you understand the impact you’ve had here, just as a patient.” Robby starts.
“I’ve watched my nurses open up more about mental health struggles, and the medical students have shown more confidence in standing up to me. I watched my fellow Attendings remember why they got into emergency medicine, and I watched my husband come back from a relapse a little stronger. I’m not saying that was because of you, but I am saying that was in spite of you. You restarted a heart we didn’t even realize had stopped.”
Dennis stared, blue eyes wide with a sinking realization of the honesty Robby was giving him. Never in his life had Dennis been thanked for just being himself.
He was almost sure that Robby was forgetting the big events, such as the TBI or maybe the assault of the student on night one. Did he forget I attacked Jack?
“You say that like it means something,” Dennis whispers, tearing his gaze from the others. Robby leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees with a seriousness only an ER doctor could possess.
“It is, Dennis. You are not the same person who entered this hospital three days ago. And I want you to know that every step after this, you will have the support to become better. To do better.”
“Do you think they forgive me?” Dennis looks up again, eyes now heavy with tears. Robby rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, hand flexing with a self-inflicted squeeze.
“There’s nothing to forgive, and even if there was, not one of my staff would give you the benefit of telling you that you were wrong.”
“We both suck at not apologies,” Dennis smiles softly and leans his head back against the gurney. Robby huffs a soft laugh and relaxes his arms across his chest.
“I always have, mouse, nothing new there.” The door crept open beside the brown eyed doctor, and Abbot leaned his head in. A smile crested his face as he took in the calm of the room.
“All good in here?” Abbot looked to Dennis, who nodded in return.
“Is Jefferson on his way down?” Robby moved to stand slowly, stretching his joints out with a few pops. Abbot nodded and failed to hide a chuckle.
“We’re moving forward with discharge, no admission.” Abbot turned to look at Dennis again, “he’ll bring you the referrals and follow-up details.”
“Are you leaving?” Dennis sat up again, taking in the two doctors standing in the doorway.
“We have a cabin to get to and I have a full eight hours of sleep I desperately need,” Abbot adjusted his stance to let Robby slip next to him in the doorway. Dennis watched the two closely, fear eating at his chest that this would be the last time he’d see them. He so desperately wanted the chance to get to know them better, to get to know Santos better, and to get hugs from Dana again. Robby seemed to sense the change in Dennis’s demeanor and cleared his throat.
“Jack is gonna leave his personal cell on your paperwork, so you can text us pictures of your sunrises from off the bridge,” a raise of a judgmental brow and pointed look bringing Dennis to smile again.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Santos has threatened to adopt you, so beware her this morning, and Dana is bringing you some spare clothes. So stick around, kid, yeah?” Jack cocks his head to the side, as if he’s looking at a small animal that is adjusting slowly to the possibility of safety. Maybe that’s what Dennis is.
“Are you going to keep your promise?” Dennis looks at Robby pointedly, the older doctor pointing at his own chest with confusion.
“Mr old man over here with the memory issues, jeez, Robby.” Jack gave a fake gasp and turned to Dennis with a shit eating grin.
“That’s doctor old man to you,” Robby grumbled out. Dennis merely laughed with Jack and shook his head.
“You promised a photo of the sunrise, on top of the mountain hike you do by your cabin?”
“Ah, that I did indeed promise to. I’ll text it to you? Santos can help you print it off. I know you have a preference for hard copies.” Robby placed a hand on Jack’s upper arm, squeezing it like a reminder that it was time to go. Very midwestern, Dennis thought to himself.
“Deal. Drive safe?”
“Only red helmets and speed limits from here, mouse.”