Chapter Text
Robby
***
It was easier than Robby expected, to change their return flight to the following day instead of the one after that. If it hadn’t been possible, Robby would have driven them to Grand Island and had them stay there overnight, or even driven them all the way back to Pennsylvania just to get out of this god-forsaken state.
But they could board an 8:15 flight tomorrow morning to Eppley, take a connecting flight back to Pittsburgh at 11:30, and be back home before dinner.
For someone who’d been desperate to get away from Pittsburgh only two months ago, Robby couldn’t believe how eager he was to return to it.
A thought occurred to him, one he could hardly bear to consider. If he’d killed himself, instead of bringing Jane home, then Dennis would have come here alone.
Dennis wouldn’t have had Robby there to stop Isaiah.
Dennis might have died tonight.
And fuck if that thought didn’t leave him cold.
Another thought, darker, selfish, pitiful, reminded him that if he’d killed himself, he’d never have known what Dennis’s lips tasted like.
God.
Robby laid down on the bed on his back, one arm over his eyes. He’d kissed Dennis. Dennis, who was crying and terrified and hurt and out of his mind with grief. Dennis, who looked up at him as though he was the air he breathed. It was so sick and twisted. The way he wanted Dennis, how difficult it had been to stop himself from just taking him, pulling him closer, fitting their hips together and thrusting, chasing pleasure, release, relief from all the horrors of this day.
But then what?
When they caught their breath, and rational thought returned, what then?
Robby was still twenty years older than Dennis. Was still technically his boss. Robby was still a fucking wreck of a man who could barely keep himself going, let alone be what someone like Dennis needed.
Maybe they could make it work, for a while. Maybe they would have a few good years, before Dennis realized that he’d outgrown Robby, or he started to resent having jumped into a relationship with someone who should have known better than to take advantage of his vulnerability. Maybe there would be some happiness, before the reality of his partner’s age really sank in. Realizing that Robby would be seventy before Dennis hit fifty. That Robby would be old, decrepit, while Dennis was still young and full of life.
And that was best case scenario.
Worst case, Robby fucked it up, the way he fucked everything up. He’d lash out, push Dennis away, hurt him. The inescapable reality that he could never be good enough for Dennis would eclipse everything until Robby couldn’t think of anything else, and like an animal caught in a trap, chewed off his own arm to escape with his heart intact.
Except Robby wasn’t sure he’d survive this loss.
He’d already been so close to the edge. He was sure, that if he got Dennis, if he called this kind, strong, vulnerable, caring man his own and then lost him, there would be no coming back.
Dennis returned, hair wet and wearing a pair of sleep pants. He sat down heavily on the bed beside Robby’s.
“Got us a flight out in the morning. We’ll want to be on the road around 5:30.”
Dennis nodded. Robby swallowed, then stood up to take his own shower.
When he came back, Dennis was still awake. He was on his side, facing Robby’s bed, curled up. Robby’s chest ached. “You should try to sleep,” Robby urged softly.
Dennis laughed, the sound hollow. “Every time I close my eyes, I see the red glow of the iron.”
It made perfect sense, but Robby still felt gutted by it. He smothered the anger and outrage at what had happened and instead, scooted backward on his own bed. “Come here?”
Dennis’s eyes flew to his, wide and dark in the dimly lit room. Before he could ask, Robby clarified.
“It might help - being held.”
Dennis nodded, slipped out of his own bed, and into Robby’s. He turned, his back against Robby’s chest. It was easy for Robby to press close and curl around him. Dennis’s hands were shaking, and Robby twined their fingers together.
The minutes ticked by.
“I’m sorry, about earlier,” Dennis suddenly said. “Sorry I took advantage of your kindness like that.”
Robby barely held back a huff of laughter. Only one of them was allowed to be a martyr, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Dennis. Robby tipped his head down until he could press his lips to the crown of Dennis’s hair. “Don’t be.”
“Robby-”
“It’s not because I don’t want you, Dennis.”
That was met with silence. Robby thought that much had been clear. He’d kissed back. Hell, he’d been lusting after the kid for more than a year. He hadn’t been as subtle as he’d have liked, not by half. Surely Dennis knew that much.
“If I wasn’t twenty years older than you. If there wasn’t this power imbalance between us. If I didn’t think this was something you’d regret, a foolish impulse spurred on by grief and by hero-worship and idolization that I sure as hell don’t deserve, I’d do everything in my power to make you mine.”
Dennis’s breath caught.
“But we can’t change who and what we are. And I’m so fucked up. You deserve so much better.”
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Dennis said quietly.
Robby swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way that made his chest feel tight and his temples throb. Dennis just didn’t get it. Robby had been so careful to preserve the image Dennis had of him, feeding greedily and selfishly on the way Dennis looked up to him, trusted him, admired him. He’d meticulously hidden all the cracks, wanting to keep this one, whole, untainted thing.
But all good things must come to an end. He took in a slow breath. “I planned to kill myself, when I got to Alberta. Maybe sooner, if the moment was right.”
There was a pause, and then Dennis rolled over, facing Robby. Robby fought the urge to look away.
“Why?”
There was so much hurt in his voice, confusion and pain. Robby hated himself for it.
“A… a lot of reasons. I didn’t want to be here. I couldn’t stand another moment in the Pitt, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it behind. I felt like my soul was being slowly eaten away by each loss…” He shook his head. “Because I’m fucked up, Dennis. I’m so, so fucked up. I’ve been a mess for years, and I just keep buckling down and pushing forward, hoping I can outrun it, that I can work through it, and eventually it catches me.”
“When Trinity rushed over to your house that morning - she thought you were dead. She thought you’d killed yourself. She thought - Megan.”
Robby nodded. “Nothing like a handful of screaming Trinity Santos waking you up from a nap to make you realize you’ve been an idiot.”
“She told me to keep your key. To keep checking in.”
“Yeah. Because she knew that I wouldn’t - wouldn’t do something and leave it for you to find.”
“You wouldn’t do that when she could find you, either.”
“No. You were just… extra insurance. She’s very thorough.”
“Things are different now, though, right?”
Robby sighed. “Sort of. Not quite where they were before, but Dennis, I didn’t just get better overnight. This has been building for years. And even if I’m finding some semblance of normality - I go back in another month, and I doubt anything will change. I’m going right back to where I was, right back to who I was.”
“So fix it.”
This time, Robby didn’t stifle his huff of laughter. A ghost of a smile kissed his lips. “Oh? Just like that? Snap my fingers and fix years of trauma, PTSD, and depression?”
“You’re a doctor. You know how this goes. You focus on the problem. You get help. You heal.”
“If you’ll recall, doctors make notoriously terrible patients.”
“I’m fucking serious, Robby. Too many people need you. Put in the work. If not for me, then for Trinity, for Dana, for Abbott, for Langdon and for Mel and for Mohan. For the next baby that would be stuck in the Pitt over the weekend without you. The next patient that would die without you.”
Robby knew that Dennis was saying all the right things. He knew he needed to put in the work if he wanted anything to change. He knew he was holding himself back from healing. But the task seemed so insurmountable.
“It would be enough, if it was just for you,” he said quietly. Because sometimes it seemed as though that was a more manageable goal. Fixing himself enough - not to be the Chief Attending, a mentor, a friend, a leader, a doctor - but to be good enough for this one person. Pulling himself together enough to do right by Dennis. To be worthy of him.
Dennis was silent, and Robby cursed softly. “Forget I said that,” he muttered. “I’m - shit, I’m such a fucking mess. Perfect example, right there.”
“Robby, don’t.”
“Dennis…”
“Maybe, right now, what I need is a little hope.”
“Hope?”
“That you can get the help you need, start to heal, get to a place where you might be ready, someday. That Gloria lets us keep this two-attending thing after you’re back, so that I could work under a different doctor and you wouldn’t be my direct boss. And that I could convince you, someday, that this isn’t a whim. It isn’t hero worship. It isn’t just mixed up admiration or gratitude or whatever else your brain is telling you it must be that makes me feel this way about you. I want to hope that a day can come when we can just… have this. If you still want me by then.”
“I want to believe that that’s possible too, but I won’t have you putting your life on hold for it, Dennis. I can’t be something you’re banking on. You’re too good for that.”
“You’re worth waiting for,” Dennis said sincerely. And for a moment, all Robby could think about was the bus stop, on his 8th birthday, a balloon in his hand, scanning the street continuously for a figure in a red dress, for his mother, who said she’d be right back, waiting and waiting and believing with all his little heart that she was worth the wait, because she loved him, and she wouldn’t abandon him, and him screaming when the police officer eventually dragged him away, and the tears he’d cried when his grandmother came and picked him up, and the years of waiting he’d done for someone who was never, never coming back.
He inhaled sharply, a sob caught in his chest. “I’m not,” he said brokenly.
“Yes,” Dennis repeated in that same firm, gentle tone, “you are.”
***
Dennis
***
Dennis woke to Robby’s arms around him, their bodies pressed tightly together, legs entwined. He could feel Robby’s breath against his hair, the thrum of his heart against Dennis’s shoulder.
The alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so he had a moment to luxuriate in the moment. Robby was holding him. Robby had slept with Dennis in his arms.
Robby wanted him.
There were so many obstacles. Dennis understood that. But since when had the odds ever deterred him? He found out, years after the onset of his disease’s symptoms, that most kids died before they reached their teens. Of those that survived, the majority developed severe disabilities in their early adulthood. The fraction that were fortunate enough to escape that, were guaranteed an early grave. Not a single patient had ever lived past sixty-five.
Dennis was determined to see his sixty-sixth birthday, out of pure spite.
And he didn’t know the statistics on runaway kids getting into college, and then med school, and then becoming doctors, but he figured it was pretty low.
What were the odds of escaping a branding? Twice?
Dennis just dug deep and kept going. He’d keep hoping until there was nothing left to hope for.
Robby wanted him.
That was enough.
So Robby was older. Dennis was going to age early and die young anyway. So they worked together. There were so many workplace relationships going on at PTMC that they’d have to put the whole damn staff on leave if management suddenly started drawing lines. So Robby didn’t think Dennis’s feelings for Robby were lasting. He’d show him otherwise. So Robby needed help. He’d get it.
And when that happened, Dennis would be there.
If this kind, funny, gentle, brilliant, competent, caring man wanted him, then Dennis would wait until Armageddon for him. He didn’t care that Robby told him not to wait. Fuck that. Robby didn’t understand what it meant to Dennis. What he meant to Dennis. As long as there was still breath in Dennis’s lungs, blood in his veins, a heart beating in his chest, it would be Robby’s.
As if on cue, his heart throbbed painfully. Dennis sat up with a gasp. “Shit!”
Robby jolted, his eyes flying to the door. “What? What is it?”
“Shit, sorry, nothing. Go back to sleep. I just forgot my pills last night.”
Robby sagged in relief. “Can you take them now, or do you have to skip this dose and start again tonight?”
“I’ve gotta take them now.” He scooted off the bed and pulled the pill bottles from his bag. In the bathroom, he shook all four prescriptions out into his palm and downed them one by one. When he came back, Robby was waiting, his eyes full of questions that Dennis wasn’t ready to answer. “Sorry about that. You could probably get another 15, 20 minutes of sleep if you wanted.”
“It’s fine,” Robby said dismissively. “I’m awake now, and I’d like to get out of this town as quickly as we can. No offense, but if I never see this fucking place again it’ll be only too soon.”
“Hard same,” Dennis said with a laugh. He went to dress, tossing his pajama pants into his bag and cinching it shut.
“Hey,” Robby said softly behind him. “Are you… okay?” His eyes flicked to the pill bottles that Dennis hastily stuffed in a side pocket.
There was a part of Dennis that wanted to tell Robby. Wanted to explain the whole thing, the dizziness and lethargy as a child, the syncope and angina as a teenager, the tanking BP that had put him in the hospital - Presbyterian, thankfully, so no one at PTMC knew about him - and the slog of years he’d spent finding the right combination of medications to keep him healthy and functional.
The problem was that if Robby knew… he could never un-know it. It would be lurking in the back of his mind any time some financial issue came up, reminding him of Dennis’s expensive prescriptions. It would be there at the end of long days, worrying if Dennis’s heart could handle the strain. And it would be there in the wings of whatever was growing between them, lurking quietly, influencing Robby in ways that he might not otherwise choose to act.
If every other obstacle was out of their way, if the only reason Robby was holding himself back from he and Dennis being together was his age, the assumption that he would grow old and die long before Dennis, then Dennis would tell him in a heartbeat.
But until that point, Dennis couldn’t take the risk that Robby would pity him, or take him on as some sort of project, or feel obligated to him in any way.
“Just fine,” he finally said with a tight smile.
Robby didn’t press. And Dennis loved him a little more for that.
***
A text came through Dennis’s cell when he turned it back on at Eppley for their layover.
Jacob 9:05 - WTF. Mom says you took off last night
9:06 - yeah, caught an early flight back
Jacob 9:10 - Are you fucking kidding? You couldn’t make it a single day after our DAD’s funeral?
9:11 - Isaiah and Adam and the other hands almost killed me last night, Jacob. I wasn’t going to stay.
Jacob 9:13 - you’re always such a fucking drama queen, Denny. You need to get over yourself before you burn any more bridges.
Dennis almost laughed. Instead, he shut his phone off and let Robby buy him breakfast.
***
Even with a delayed flight and a traffic jam, Robby was pulling up to Dennis and Trinity’s shared apartment well before dinnertime.
“Are you sure you’re okay to go home alone?” Robby asked for the third time.
“I’m sure,” Dennis repeated. “Trin will be home in a few hours, assuming charting doesn’t catch her. I should probably let Dr. Al-Hashimi know I’m back a day early, too, see if she needs me to come in tomorrow.”
“Absolutely not,” Robby exclaimed. “You need to rest and decompress. You shouldn’t be going to work so soon after what you went through.”
“You do know that the first time it happened, I had to drive all night to get back to the university, then had a full day of classes and a crummy part time job at a coffee shop afterward, right?”
“Fucking hell, kid,” Robby muttered, his hand coming up to circle the back of Dennis’s neck. He squeezed lightly, his thumb stroking over the carotid. “Yeah, well that was before you met me. If you didn’t want to be bossed around and fussed over then you shouldn’t have let your control freak doctor boss into your personal life. Now you’re stuck with me.”
Dennis laughed. “No complaints.”
“You’ll take the day, then? Go back on Monday like you’d planned?”
“Yeah, I’ll take the day. Might have to go grocery shopping, though. Trinity has had the apartment to herself for three whole days, which probably means she’s eaten every easy to cook meal available and there aren’t even ingredients to make something from scratch.”
“Don’t worry about that, just get in there and rest. Maybe put on a show, read a book, take a bubble bath. Unwind. And call me if you need anything.”
Something warm stirred in Dennis’s chest. Affection, admiration… hope.
“I will,” he promised.
An hour later, while he was in the middle of a Golden Girls binge, a pizza was delivered. Dennis’s favorite, the one he always bickered with Trinity about getting because she hated olives. Dennis hadn’t ordered it. He texted a picture of himself eating a slice to Robby along with a thank you.
An hour after that, he was signing for an Instacart delivery with a week’s worth of groceries that he also hadn’t ordered.
He should be mad. He knew that he really should. But he couldn’t manage to muster up the outrage or wounded pride. Robby wanted to help. He cared about Dennis. And Dennis had spent far too much time starved for love to fight against someone trying, in their own way, to show him some.