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“Hey neighbor.”
You turn to your left and see your next-door neighbor.
Brendon Park.
He was stupidly handsome and such a nice guy.
You always see him at different times of the day because he’s a surgeon down the road at ptmc. It’s also a nice perk to live next door to a doctor, which he insisted you knock if you ever need him day or night.
“Hey Bren, going out or just getting back?”
He smiles as he leans against his door “Just getting back. A long nap is calling my name. Hopefully I’m up by lunch. Where are you and Meesh headed?”
Meesh, a nickname for Misha, is a 4 year old golden retriever. He’s also your service dog of almost three years now.
You had been diagnosed with POTS as a teenager and over the years it had gotten a little more intense. This had led to you passing out while out by yourself one day and had hit your head. Luckily a passerby called EMS and you were taken to the hospital and treated.
It happened more frequently after that and your parents decided a service dog was non-negotiable since you lived alone.
You’ve lived next to Brendon for about a year now and even though he’s a doctor, you’ve never told him of your condition. You just didn’t want to seem incapable or weak around him.
Obviously he knew you had some sort of medical condition as you had Misha but he’d never ask unless you were to bring it up first.
“We’re headed to the new farmer’s market downtown. I’ve heard good things and I've been dying to check it out.” you laugh
“Oooo there's a jam stand there that sells raspberry peach jam, here–” he pulls $40 from his wallet “Could you grab me two jars? I’ve not been able to go with my schedule lately.”
You shake your head with a smile “Bren, I’ll get them. You don’t have to pay me.”
He raises an eyebrow and holds the money out.
“Uh uh, take this and keep the rest for the troubles.”
You tap your chin dramatically “How about I’ll take it when I bring the jams back, fair deal?”
He tilts his head with a chuckle.
“You drive a hard bargain woman but okay, when you get back.”
You wave to him as you walk Meesh to the elevator.
Brendon watches you go even after the elevator doors close.
He bites his lip at the thought of seeing you again later.
Shaking his head he finally unlocks his door and walks in.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
After a whole day in the hot Pittsburgh heat, you’re finally making your way back to the apartment building.
You hold your tote bag on your shoulder, the two jars of jam securely tucked in it.
As you walk towards the elevator you notice a sign on the doors
‘Elevators out of service until tomorrow.”
“Fuck” you say quietly.
Guess you’ll be taking the stairs.
You’re on the sixth floor so it’s not terrible but the trek up there still won’t be easy.
After a few minutes you realize the air conditioning isn’t great in the stairwell and you’re starting to sweat a lot.
You end up stopping on the fourth floor to sit down for a few minutes.
You’re pretty out of breath and start to feel a little dizzy.
Just two more floors.
When you go to stand up Meesh is at your side and is trying to lay on your lap, keeping you sitting.
You then realize he’s alerting you to your fast heart rate. A potential episode starting.
Normally this is when you’d stay seated and rest a bit but you don’t. Gently you pet him while trying to catch your breath.
“I-It’s okay Meesh. Just t-two more and I’ll sit w-when we’re upstairs.”
You knew better than to ignore him and not immediately take it easy but you were almost home.
Meesh whines a little as he desperately tries to get you to stay sitting but you get up anyway and continue up the stairs.
Finally you’re only a set of stairs away from the sixth floor door. As you go to take a step, it feels like the ground is shifting. Your movements feel sluggish as you take another step.
Shit. I need to sit right now.
Your hands shake as you try to grab your phone from your purse. Meesh is back at your side nudging you and again trying to get you to sit.
Without looking you take another step but the dizziness throws you off balance, sending you tumbling down the few stairs to the platform below.
Your bag hits the ground, scattering all your belongings somewhere you can’t see.
“M-Meeshhh” you try to call for him. He looks torn to find something to help and staying to help comfort you.
Then in a split second he’s racing up the stairs to the hallway door. The inside of the door is one you push to open from both sides.
Luckily, in training Meesh, he had been taught how to open a few different types of door handles for retrieving water, medicines, and other things.
It doesn’t take long for him to figure this one out and as soon as it starts to open he’s squeezing through the opening and runs to your apartment door.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Brendon’s enjoying his post-shift nap when a noise pulls him from his sleep.
He looks up from the couch and listens quietly.
There’s a scratching sound.
Are there rats in the walls?
He goes to lay back down when he hears whining.
“What the f—“
Then there’s a loud bark that sounds close by.
He then moves from the couch and towards the front door.
Cracking it open he sees golden fur by your door.
Brendon opens the door wider and sees Meesh scratching at your door.
“Hey Meesh!” he stays where he is since he’s well aware to not touch working dogs.
Speaking of working, where were you?
He walks out further and doesn’t see you but he notices Meesh’s frantic behavior.
“Where’s your mommy buddy?”
Meesh runs to Brendon and frantically paws at Brendon and then runs down to the door leading to the stairwell.
Brendon’s eyebrows furrow as he observes the dog's behavior.
Then it hits him.
Shit.
In a training seminar he was taught that if a service dog is alone, to follow them. That some dogs were trained to find help if the handler was injured or suffering a medical emergency.
You could be in trouble.
He immediately runs to where Meesh is and pushes the door open.
Peering down the stairs, his heart stops.
You’re at the bottom of the stairs on your side looking like you passed out. Your stuff is everywhere and Meesh is trying to comfort you and lay on your chest.
“Sweetheart, hey!” He yells as he makes his way to you quickly.
He notices your labored breathing and that your eyes are barely open.
“Hey sweet girl, what happened? Are you okay?”
He gently feels around your head and takes note of a bump on the side where you likely hit your head.
“B-Bren?” you slur out a little
His hand engulfs your face as he looks you over.
“It’s okay sweetheart, we’re gonna head to ptmc right now.”
You shake your head as you try to sit up.
“Sorry baby you can’t get up. Just stay still.”
“No Bren,” you mumble “no ambulance.”
He grabs your attention, looking into your eyes.
“Hey, hey I know but you’re hurt. So either the ambulance takes you or I do.”
You squint your eyes at the pounding headache and try to curl into him “Take me please.”
——
Brendon had quickly gotten his keys and then grabbed you and Meesh, making his way to ptmc.
He wished he had a picture of Dana’s face when he had come in with you in his arms and a dog glued to your side.
The three of you were a sight to see amongst his friends and colleagues.
Quickly Robby had been called down to your room to assess you.
Brendon stayed glued to your side with your hand in his as they evaluated you, taking in all the information Robby talked about.
You had POTS?
Fuck, he wish you would’ve told him so he could’ve helped better.
—--
About an hour later you were more coherent and able to register where you were.
“Bren?” you whisper as you see him to the side of you.
Your voice gets his attention and he looks over, his hand immediately stroking the side of your face gently.
“Hey sweetheart, you feelin better?”
You take a mental inventory of how you’re feeling.
“Yeah,” you nod “what hap—Meesh! Where is h-“
Brendon hushes you softly “He’s right here.”
He motions towards the dog that’s been attached to him and head in his lap since you guys arrived.
You nod shaky as you try to calm your racing heart.
“You had an episode, POTS. Guess you already knew but they think it was likely brought on by the heat and the exertion from climbing the stairs.”
You start to recall the events in your head.
“Yeah I-I remember it. Meesh alerted to the symptoms but I just wanted to make it to the apartment first. I should’ve listened to him. I’m sorry to drag you into all of this.”
Brendon squeezes your hand “Hey it’s okay. I’m glad I was home to help. But I’m gonna give you my number and next time the elevator is out or you don’t feel good, you use it and call me. I don’t care if I’m asleep or not home. You call me and I’ll come get you, okay?”
You shake your head “Bren, I can’t d-“
“Promise me sweetheart?” his face pleading with you.
You contemplate it and then nod, squeezing his hand.
“Okay, I promise “
He brings your hand to his mouth and places a kiss there.
“Perfect.”
You look around “Where’s my bag?”
Brendo turns and takes it off the back of his chair.
“I gathered what I saw on the stairs earlier but if something’s missing, tell me and I’ll go back and look for it baby.”
Rummaging through the bag you pull out what you were looking for, holding them out to him.
“You really got them?” his grin gets wider as he carefully takes the jars of raspberry peach jam from you.
“How could I forget?” you smile back.
He leans forward and kisses your forehead.
“You’re something else, sweetheart.”