Archive of Our Own

Dennis was talking about something, hands waving in the air and wide blue eyes impossibly bright; Robby had stopped listening at least five minutes ago, far too absorbed in watching the subtle flex of Dennis’s biceps or stealing glances at the inch of belly that flashed, lily white, every time Dennis lifted his arms too high.

A phone buzzed and Dennis flinched to grab it, hips rolling forwards and hands shoved deep in the pocket of his scrubs. “–so the cat’s in the trap meant for the rat, right?” Dennis continued, story still falling from his lips as Robby nodded along. “And I have to get it out and I’d rather get it out alive so I reach in and… um…”

Dennis’s face fell when he read whatever was on his phone and Robby stood up a little taller.

The text couldn’t be that long– Dennis hadn’t even opened the actual message yet, Robby could see the photo of Dennis and Santos that constituted his homescreen– but Dennis was still reading it thirty seconds later.

“The cat?” Robby offered, softly.

When Dennis’s eyes flick back up to Robby, he looked terrified.

“Hey, kid, what happened?” Robby was across the room before Dennis could process it judging by how badly he flinched when Robby’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Dennis?”

“It’s nothing,” Dennis muttered as he slid his phone back into his pocket but the weak smile he offered Robby was less than convincing.

Gently, Robby squeezed Dennis’s shoulder before trailing his hand down his bicep. “You sure?”

Dennis nodded, eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah, it’s… it’ll be fine.”

And that was worrying.

It only got more worrying when Dennis politely refused to finish his story and excused himself when Robby pushed.

It was so worrying in fact that Robby cornered Santos just before their shifts ended.

“Hey, Santos, a word?” He called, holding open the door to an empty exam room with a raised eyebrow.

Javadi shot Santos a smug smirk and Robby decided he regretted hoping they would become friends.

“Dr Robby?” Santos glanced around the room and set her jaw when she realised he wasn’t asking for her opinion on a patient.

She’d been remarkably well behaved since Langdon had come back from his rehab program and Robby was waiting for her good will to run out.

It wasn’t that anyone really blamed her for exposing Langdon’s secret–he’d made the decision to do what he did afterall– but it was hard not to acknowledge that Santos had been the only one to notice.

“I need to ask you for a favour,” Robby said, arms folded as he bowed his head and fixed her with a look he hoped was humble and polite.

Judging by the colour that immediately drained from her face, he’d been less than successful. “Like a medical favour?”

“A personal favour,” Robby clarified.

Santos nodded but it was more of a ‘continue’ than a ‘yes’.

“Something’s happening with Dennis and I just need you to keep an eye on him.” It felt ridiculous when he heard himself say it out loud. “He got a text and I just…” He tilted his head as he trailed off.

He was surprised to see Santos chew her lip for a moment. “It was his family. They told him they’re in town next week and want to see him.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Santos glanced behind her as if to check that the door was indeed closed. “They suck. Like, mega suck. But…” She shrugged as if she’d already had this argument a hundred times and wasn’t prepared to accept a second opinion from Robby. “But they’re family and it’s the only one he’s got.”

“Do I need to be worried?” Robby asked, wondering how anyone could possibly be anything other than proud and fond of Dennis.

“Professionally? No.” Santos crossed her arms, mimicking Robby’s posture and he realised just how defensive he looked.

He dropped his arms to shove his hands in his pockets instead. “Personally?”

Santos watched him, eyes narrowed, and Robby remembered to be scared of her. “Whitaker’s survived much worse than you know. He’ll survive this.”

Robby’s eyebrows shot up and he had to pull a deep slow inhale in through his nose. “That bad, huh?”

“Just try not to be a dick to him, at least until they’re gone.” She turned and ducked out before Robby could even reply.

Which was good because Robby had no real reply to that.

“I’m not a dick,” he mouthed to himself before he caught his reflection in the glass of the door. “Right?”

Nothing changed after that.

Nothing and everything, all at once.

Dennis was still really fucking good at his job.

Eager to learn, wicked smart, and empathetic to a fault.

But he might as well have been a different fucking person.

He didn’t smile.

He didn’t laugh at the nurses station with Princess and Perlah.

He didn’t tease Javadi or Santos when he thought no one else could hear.

But what broke Robby’s heart the most was that he’d started avoiding him.

It was subtle enough to write off at first.

A side step to exit a room that took him just out of reach.

An arm wrapped around his own stomach like he was holding his limbs in from taking up too much space.

But when Robby rested a hand on his waist to reposition him during a procedure and Dennis flinched like he’d been hit, Robby felt something horrible settle behind Dennis’s eyes.

“What’s up with the kid?” Dana asked later, huddled next to Robby in the smoking area by the ambulance bay.

It had been snowing for a few hours but it was just too warm for it to lie.

“Family shit,” Robby said, waving off the offered cigarette with a soft smile; if he just inhaled the second hand smoke then he could pretend he hadn’t relapsed into his nicotine addiction.

Dana hummed, flicking ash into a puddle before taking a deep inhale and watching Robby carefully. “Do we need to be worried about him?”

“What do you mean?” Robby asked, eyes following the blue and red flashing lights that grew brighter in the distance.

They streamed past; a cop car not an ambulance.

He felt himself relax despite not being aware he had tensed.

“Look, I know how you feel about him–”

“Woah,” Robby spun, eyes pining Dana with a look he hoped was less panicked than he felt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Robby. I see the way you look at him,” she raised an eyebrow and blew smoke over her shoulder, it drifted away from him and he knew it was punishment for treating her like an idiot. “I’m not saying I have a problem with it. I probably should but, I dunno… maybe it’s nice seeing you happy for a change.”

Robby pouted before reaching out to pull her cigarette out of her hand. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she smirked, a little mean. “I just meant… is this family shit or family shit?”

“Santos said they’ll be gone by the end of the week,” he shrugged, dropping the last of her cigarette into the puddle without taking a draw. “Then everything goes back to normal.”

Dana watched the cherry fizz out in a puff of smoke. “I was going to finish that.”

Robby just shrugged and wandered back inside.

*****
Dennis was getting worse.

That much was clear to everyone in the Pitt.

The light behind his eyes was gone.

It never affected his work.

Never.

But when Samira came to see Robby with wide eyes and a concerned word, he knew it had gone too far.

“Whitaker,” he called across the Pitt as Samira disappeared off to treat another patient. “A word.”

Dennis wandered over, eyes just a little too far away.

He didn’t ask where Robby was taking him.

He just followed.

It was only when Robby gently closed the door to the empty family room that Dennis blinked and looked up at him. “Dr Robby?”

“Talk to me,” Robby said, voice gentle as he sat on the sofa. He waved a hand for Dennis to sit next to him and tried not to be relieved when Dennis’s thigh pressed against his as he sat.

Dennis smiled, too weak and only for a second, but Robby was trying to take the wins. “That’s a new one.”

“Sorry?” Robby asked, hand laying across the back of the sofa. He had to grip the cushion to stop from touching the short curls at the base of Dennis’s skull.

It was longer than during that first shift. More of a mullet than anything else. Long enough to run greedy fingers through. Long enough to hold on to. Long enough to be tempting.

Dennis ducked slightly and Robby struggled to remember what they’d been talking about. “No one’s ever told me they want me to talk more. It’s usually ‘Shut the fuck up, Denny, no one gives a fuck’.”

There was a pause like Dennis thought Robby would laugh at his imitation of someone no doubt linked to him by blood.

But Robby didn’t laugh.

“I heard your family’s in town,” he hedged, watching the muscles in Dennis’s jaw jump at the word ‘family’. “Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Family can be… a lot.”

“They’re good people,” Dennis said, like that answered Robby’s question.

“I’m sure they are,” Robby said, forcing himself to smile and lean back against the cushions. “Doesn’t mean it’s easy. When I moved out of my Grandmother’s house, I remember feeling weird when I visited. Like she’d stayed the same and I’d somehow… changed.”

Dennis’s eyes flicked to Robby’s before shooting to the far wall. “I haven’t changed,” Dennis muttered.

But it sounded wrong.

Like he wished he had.

Like he wanted nothing more than to have changed.

“I think you have,” Robby said, well aware that he needed to thread a very fine needle lest Dennis get spooked and shut down even more. “At least, you’re a better doctor than you were when you started here. And you were a pretty fucking good doctor even back then.”

Dennis smiled and it didn’t wobble at the corners. “I gave that clown an IO. I don’t think I was very good that day.”

“I don’t know,” Robby said, carefully shifting so he could knock their ankles together. “You killed that rat too.”

Dennis laughed like he hadn’t done it in a long time.

Maybe he hadn’t.

“Look, I just… family’s hard. I'm just asking if you want me to ‘accidentally’ change your shifts so you have to cancel a couple dinners,” Robby offered, chuckling low and soft.

The reaction was immediate.

And intense.

Genuine fear flashed brilliant and blue behind Dennis’s eyes.

“I… no,” Dennis said, shifting in his seat to face Robby. He’d made himself smaller too, ducking so he was looking beseechingly up at Robby and clasping his hands in his lap like he could pray for salvation. “I can’t cancel on him.”

Robby’s hands flew up placatingly.

It didn’t matter, Dennis flinched the second they entered his periphery.

“Him?” Robby asked, voice coming out too low. It was the worry, cloying his throat, but he saw Dennis read it as anger. “Who’s ‘him’, Dennis?”

A moment of silence hung in the air between them like fairy lights, blinking bright in the darkness that had settled.

Flashing like the lights on an ambulance too.

Urgent and dangerous.

“I should get back to my shift,” Dennis whispered, before sliding out of the chair and heading towards the door. He hesitated, fingers drumming on the frame before he glanced back at Robby. “And, with respect, you have no idea what my family is like. You’re lucky yours are all dead.”

The door swung shut on Robby’s shocked expression.

If it was any other day, Robby would be spitting blood at the cruelty of Dennis’s words.

But it wasn’t another day.

And Robby was just deeply concerned.

Because Dennis wasn’t cruel.

He could be a little mean sometimes.

A little rude too.

But he was never cruel.

And Robby couldn’t help but wonder if Dennis had learned some of that cruelty from ‘him’.

Robby went to the roof after his shift.

If not for the reminder that peace was just a step away, then for the chilled clarity it provided.

He sat, legs dangling over the edge and chin resting in his palm.

“Waiting for someone?” Abbot asked, casually.

Robby didn’t reply; he’d been here for nearly twenty minutes and he still didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

He wanted to go to Dennis’s house.

He wanted to insist Dennis stayed at his place until his family fucked back off to the middle of nowhere.

He wanted to kiss Dennis and tell him that he was perfect and whoever told him to shut up was a fucking asshole.

“That bad, huh?” Abbot mused and the metal railing creaked as he leant against it.

The snow had mostly stopped but the layer of damp remained.

It had soaked through the fabric of Robby’s jeans and numbed his thighs.

“Do you get on with your family?” Robby asked, eyes slowly scanning the lights in the flats that bejeweled the horizon. He wondered if one of them belonged to Dennis.

Abbott let out a slow whistling exhale. “Nope and all yours are dead. So why are you asking?”

“Whitaker,” Robby knew that Abbot had figured that situation out long before he’d figured it out for himself.

“Did he turn you down?” Abbot asked, sounding at least a little surprised that Dennis would say no to Robby’s advances; it shouldn’t have flattered Robby as much as it did.

“I think… he…” Robby shook his head and the railing behind him creaked before Abbot dropped to sit next to him on the roof. A big warm hand landed on his knee and squeezed. “His family’s visiting and I’m worried.”

“How worried?” Abbot was being careful. He wasn’t pushing the way he normally would. Robby wondered if he knew just how fragile and cast adrift Robby was feeling or if he just hated talking about families as much as Dennis seemed to.

Robby mulled over the question before turning to meet Abbot’s gaze. “He’s flinching. And he… he was…” Robby sighed, shaking his head and trying to fight the fear that had been bubbling in his stomach since Dennis had gotten that text message. “He was cruel… to me.”

Abbot looked so genuinely shocked it should have been funny.

But then it slowly morphed into an angry urgent sort of concern. “What did he say?”

“He said I was lucky my family was dead,” Robby said, echoing Dennis’s words from earlier.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think we need to… I dunno, hide him or something?” Abbot winced when Robby raised an eyebrow at him. “I meant at your place but I could clear my spare room if you thought it would be better?”

“Holy shit, you think he’s in trouble,” Robby realised with a start.

Abbot chewed his words for a while before seeming to decide something. “I know you remember the 90s, Robby. I know you saw a bunch of parents dump their queer kids at the hospital doors and leave them to die of AIDs on their own. I know you know what it’s like to be from a family that hates you even if yours never did.”

Robby had lost twelve friends when he’d done his first rotation as a medical student. He’d been the only one to sit by their bedsides as they slowly lost an unwinnable fight. The only reason he’d even been allowed in the building was because he was technically on shift, the parents had denied any and all visitors to their dying children.

Then he lost six more over the rest of that year.

He didn’t even realise some of them had died until he read the obituaries.

They weren’t allowed at the funerals.

The parents who’d thrown them out in their teens suddenly claimed their bodies and stopped any of ‘those people’ from publicly mourning their loved ones.

“We’re not in the 90s anymore,” Robby said despite knowing it wasn’t entirely true.

Abbot swallowed and smiled sadly. “Maybe we aren’t. But Dennis’s family very well could be.”

“Fuck,” Robby whispered. “What do we do?”

Abbot didn’t say anything for a while.

It started snowing again and Robby watched the light catch and colour the fat flakes that drifted against the rapidly darkening sky.

Then Abbot cleared his throat. “Does he know he can call you? If things go wrong?”

“I think so,” Robby said, hoping it was true. “And he has Santos. She’s a lesbian so she gets it too.”

Abbot hummed. “Then you wait. You wait and hope he’s as smart as you think he is.”

“And if he’s not?” Robby asked, shaking only partially due to the snow.

Abbot shrugged and carefully dragged himself to standing. He offered a hand down to Robby with a sad smile. “We work in an emergency department. If he needs stitching back together, then we’re more than equipped for that.”

“Metaphorically, right?”

“Sure.”

*****

Robby arrived for his next shift twenty minutes early so he could scroll carefully through the intake reports.

There was no world where Dennis had been admitted to the ER and Abbot hadn’t called him.

But he needed to check.

And it wasn’t like he’d wanted a lazy morning anyway.

“You’re boy’s not here,” Dana said, leaning backwards against the desk to look at Robby’s stare up at the board.

“My boy?” Robby asked, shooting her a disapproving glare before frowning. “Wait, why are you here early?”

Dana smirked, all glinting eyes and white teeth. “He might be your boy but he’s our favourite.” She tilted her head to where Perlah and Princess were tossing their bags down under their desks. “Or did you really think you were the only person looking out for him?”

“Santos told me about his family,” Perlah said, drifting closer and dropping her voice. “She said they’re only supposed to be here for a few more days so… that’s good.”

Robby huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “And why do you like him so much?”

“He listens to us,” Princess replied, tucking a few pens into her breast pocket before meeting Robby’s eyes. “Do you have any idea how many medical students come through here that think they’re better than us just because they’re training to be doctors? But not Dennis. He actually values our opinions.”

“And he makes a mean mimosa,” Dana offered.

Princess snapped her fingers and pointed at Dana. “True that.”

“We’re looking after your man, Robby,” Perlah said, smiling when Robby shot her a bemused look. “Oh, come on. Did you really think you were being subtle?”

“It would have been more subtle if you’d just pissed on him,” Princess cackled, a little meanly. “Like Langdon’s puppy.”

“What about Langdon’s puppy?” Langdon said, stepping into the half circle with wide curious eyes and wringing hands.

Dana just snorted through her nose and opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly cruel.

But then her expressions changed, mouth slowly closing and eyebrows pinching in the middle.

“Shit.”

They all turned.

Like one gossip hungry monster.

Santos shot them all a stern look from the doorway that screamed ‘say anything and I’ll fucking kill you’.

But Robby wasn’t looking at Santos.

Not when Dennis was trailing her, head freshly shaved and heavy bags under his eyes tinged with red.

It was bizarre seeing Dennis without the mullet, even though it was a relatively recent development.

But Robby realised that he’d known Dennis for longer with it than without.

Dennis glanced up, jaw set and lower lip trembling ever so slightly; there was enough of a plea in his eyes that Robby just turned to face the rest of the gathered doctors and nurses.

He had to clear his throat twice to get them to pay attention to him and not Dennis.

The morning briefing was entirely forgettable.

Robby knew he was on complete autopilot as he gave them a half hearted ‘let’s go save some lives’ and assigned them their zones.

“Looking good,” Langdon muttered to Dennis once Robby had waffled the meeting to a close. “But between you and me…” Langdon ducked a little closer and Robby had to resist the urge to yank him away with a sharp tug to the back of his scrubs. “...I liked your hair more before. You looked more like yourself.”

Dennis didn’t make eye contact with Langdon at any point of his little speech, but he did nod in acknowledgement when Langdon was finished.

Langdon’s hand lifted to clap Dennis on the shoulder and hesitated when Dennis cowed slightly away from it.

“Whitaker,” Robby called, pretending not to notice the look Langdon shot him; he was pretty sure he’d have to punch something if he saw his own horrified anger reflected in Langdon’s usually smug face. “A word?”

Dennis crossed the room and about eight pairs of eyes followed his walk to Robby’s side; McKay at least tried to play it off as a subtle glance around the room but Javadi was openly gawking. Luckily, Dana just herded everyone away with pursed lips and worried eyes.

“It’s fine,” Dennis muttered, eyes resting on Robby’s chest instead of his face. “I… It’s fine.”

Robby moved slowly, hand lifting in full view of Dennis’s eyes so he could move away if he wanted.

But Dennis didn’t move when Robby laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t move when Robby slid his hand up to rest against the slope of Dennis’s neck.

He didn’t move when Robby ran his forefinger along the prickly shorn hair at the nape of Dennis’s neck.

“Stay at my place tonight,” Robby muttered without thinking about it. “Please?”

Dennis huffed out a sad little snort. “You have no idea how bad your timing is.” Wide blue eyes finally flicked up to meet Robby’s gaze; something deep inside Dennis was broken and the sparkle was gone from his eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me about it tonight, huh? I can make us pasta and we can catch the Penguins game.” Robby knew he was crossing a hundred lines, breaking even more hospital policies. He didn’t care. Because if Dennis was sat on his couch drinking piss-weak beer then he was safe.

“I hate hockey,” Dennis said, voice wobbling at the edges. “Too violent.”

“Dennis, if–”

“I’ve got a kid who’s not breathing!” A voice bellowed as the double doors to the ambulance bay slid open. “Fell through the ice playing ball with his cousin.”

Dennis ducked out of Robby’s grasp and was already giving CPR when Robby called for an intubation tube.

The day got worse from there.

The kid didn’t make it and Dennis’s next patient, an accidental GSW to the throat, bled out before he could be saved.

Robby knew that everyone was trying to rally.

McKay dragged Dennis to Chairs to give him a break but then a woman walked in with eight broken ribs and a husband with bloody knuckles.

Dana tried to corral Dennis into the break room for a heart to heart but then a seizing OAP wheeled into the ED and Dennis was the only one free to handle him.

Robby lost him when Langdon reluctantly asked him to take his patient– a woman his age who’d ODed on benzos and booze– and he looked just haunted enough that Robby had traded his burn victim with little complaint.

He didn’t see much of Dennis after that but it was hard to spot him with his new hair; he’d gotten used to following blonde curls around the ED and the thin fluff of the buzzcut was so antithetical to everything Dennis was that Robby couldn’ recognise him from across the Pitt.

It wasn’t until Abbot appeared at his shoulder that he realised he’d been working on a patient for longer than he thought. “How’s it going in here?”

Robby glanced up, taking in Abbot’s raised eyebrow and folded arms. “All good, just need to–”

“Let Ellis take over?” Abbot asked, voice light enough to not worry the patient but intense enough for Robby to feel a chill crawl up his spine.

Ellis gave him a smirk before ducking under his arm to extricate the clamps from Robby’s grip.

The second his hands were free, he stalked to the door and threw his gloves in the biohazard bin.

“What’s up?” Robby asked, waving a hand under the sanitizer dispenser as he watched Abbot stare at him.

“Santos wanted to talk to you before she left but she said you were too busy.” Abbot’s face was brutal, disappointment and irritation carved into the crows feet next to his eyes.

“Shit, did you see Dennis?” Robby asked, already knowing the answer when Abbot huffed out a disbelieving half-chuckle.

“You mean the fucking skinhead? Yeah, I saw him,” Abbot muttered, head shaking as he watched Robby. “You offer him a place to stay?”

“Yeah.” Robby knew Abbot could tell from his face alone that Dennis had declined. Or, at least, that he hadn’t accepted.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, go home. Maybe ring Santos. If you need back-up… call someone else because I’m officially on shift,” Abbot said before wandering off to check the board.

Robby didn’t wait until he made it home before he dialled Santos’s number; he was barely even out of the hospital grounds and the snow was thicker here, lying in mounds where it had been pushed off the road.

“Dr Robby?” Santos answered immediately.

“I’m off the clock now, Trinity. Robby is fine.” It was a peace offering as much as a declaration of intent. “What’s up?”

“Dennis said you offered him a place to stay tonight?” It came out as a question and Robby realised she was as lost as him.

“I did,” Robby replied, pressing the button at a cross walk and bracing against the wind. “I figured his family knows your address. I was offering a place to stay where they couldn’t find him, I’m not trying to insinuate that he’s not happy or safe with you.”

Santos made a soft noise in her throat that Robby couldn’t decipher. “Is that all you were offering?”

“Excuse me?” The crosswalk flashed green but Robby felt rooted to the ground.

“Look, I don’t give a shit if you're breaking hospital policy. As long as it’s not endangering patients or colleagues, then I don’t give a fuck. I thought… fuck, I really didn’t want to have to have this conversation with you over the phone,” Santos muttered, and the unmistakable sound of her running a hand over her face scrapped through the receiver.

The crosswalk light changed to red and Robby jabbed the button harder than he meant to. “I’ll do you one better. I don’t want to be having this conversation at all.”

“If you’re fucking around, or… or if you’re being really fucking obtuse and don’t know how he feels then you need to back the fuck off. Because Dennis really doesn’t need a messy gay situationship right now,” Santos snapped, irritation laced through her tone and drenched in venom. “Normally, I’m all for messy gay situationships. The messier and gayer the better–”

“Get to the point, Trinity,” Robby muttered, stalking across the road the second the light flashed green again.

“It’s his Dad. He’s a fucking prick. The prickest of all pricks. And I know you.” Her irritation crested before snapping into deep viscous concern. “He turned you down because he thought you were just pitying him. If he knew you weren’t pitying him… if he knew that you actually… fuck!” Santos yelled and her phone clattered to the floor.

“Santos!” Robby barked, scaring a young woman jogging. He held a placating hand up and she just sprinted away from him in the opposite direction she had been running in. And maybe he needed to practise that move in the mirror because it didn’t seem to be as placating as he thought.

The phone line scrabbled for a moment. “I spilled my fucking tea.” Santos’s voice was wobbling and Robby realised she was genuinely terrified. “Look, are you in love with Dennis or do you just want to fuck him?”

Robby dropped his keys in a puddle and his jaw to his chest. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious. I think I know the answer which is the only reason I’m even fucking calling. If you genuinely give a shit about Dennis beyond thinking he’s a smoking hot twink with daddy issues–”

“Jesus, Trinity.”

“–then please tell him. Because right now he’s at dinner with the world biggest homophobe who forcibly shaved his hair because he thought a mullet made him look like ‘a fucking faggot’.” Santos was crying now, soft stilted little gasps as she tried to stifle sobs. “Please, Robby. That or tell Abbot to fuck him because honestly, a ticket to that ride would shake most people out of existential dread.”

Robby pinched the bridge of his nose and forced out a breath before he finally unlocked his front door. “I thought you were a lesbian? How would you know that Abbot is… I don’t even want to repeat what you said to be honest.”

“I’ve got eyes, Robby. And don’t pretend you’ve never thought about it before.” Santos sniffed, clearly back on solid ground now that she was snarking her way through emotional turmoil. “Call him? Dennis, not Abbot. Please.”

The line went dead before Robby could scar her with the knowledge that he had ‘bought a ticket to that ride’ many times all throughout med school.

He shucked his hoodie as he dialed Dennis’s number.

A love confession over the phone wasn’t exactly how he imagined this going but if it got Dennis here, warm and safe, then he’d forgo the full wooing protocol.

It barely made it past the first ring before he was sent to voice mail.

He clicked through to his messages with pinched brows. ‘Call meBusy’

Robby pouted as he kicked off his shoes. ‘Talked to Santos. Call me.’

The ticks turned blue but no reply came.

Robby sent one final text before tossing his phone onto the table to make pasta for one. ‘When I said you could stay at mine, I didn’t mean just for a night. Call me. Please.’

He didn’t check his phone beyond clicking it to loud mode until after he’d brushed his teeth and slid under cool cotton sheets.

Dennis hadn’t even read it.

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

Dennis was busy.

Robby was fairly certain that he hadn’t imagined their shared glances and lingering touches.

And he definitely hadn’t imagined Santos’s phone call; she would know how Dennis felt, right?

Right?

*****
The next morning he checked his phone again, the message still sat unread and Robby’s embarrassment turned acrid in his stomach.

Why wouldn’t Dennis read the message?

It wasn’t like Robby thought he was owed a rejection; hell, he was probably owed a disciplinary hearing.

But Dennis should have at least opened the notification.

His worry was only compounded when he stepped out of the shower to his phone ringing.

“Dennis?” He barked, answering without even looking at the screen.

“Oh fuck,” Santos whispered. “He’s not with you then?”

“I thought he was with you?” Robby asked.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Santos grunted. “Oh, this is bad.”

“What’s bad? I did what you said. He never read my message,” Robby said, words tumbling free unbidden.

“He didn’t come home last night,” Santos whispered. “I thought he was with you.”

“What do you mean he didn’t come home last night?” Robby asked despite understanding what each of those words meant individually.

“I… I fell asleep on the couch waiting for him,” Santos said like she was admitting to murder. “I only just woke up and I checked his room and he hasn’t been back since he left for dinner. What do I do?”

“Ring the police? File a missing persons report?” Robby said, pulling on his pants and trying to level his breathing.

“And say what? My twenty-something year old roommate went for dinner with his parents last night and hasn’t come home. No, officer, I haven’t called his parents. No, officer, I haven’t checked if he’s gone to work. No, officer, it’s only been like ten hours.” Santos sounded so angry that she could only be terrified.

“Okay, okay, we need to calm down. He’s due on shift in fifty minutes. We wait until then, see if he shows.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Santos asked, softly.

Robby sighed, throwing a hand up in the air. “Then I kill his dad.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.” Robby hung up and finished getting ready.

He’d meant it as a joke.

But the closer it got to the start of his shift the more it felt like foreshadowing.

*****

Santos was already at the nurses station when Robby arrived; she was talking to Princess and Perlah in Tagalog and sounded frantic.

“He still hasn’t called you?” Perlah asked when she saw Robby cross the room.

He shook his head and glanced around the Pitt. “I assume that means he’s not here?”

“He has…” Princess checked her watch. “...seven minutes.”

“Who has seven minutes?” Langdon asked, coming to a stop beside Santos. “Whitaker?”

Santos nodded, eyes fixed on the ambulance bay doors. “Yep.”

“I texted him last night but got no response,” Langdon offered like it wasn’t a fucking insane thing to say. Everyone turned to look at him slowly; Robby knew he looked bemused from the blush that coloured Langdon’s ears. “We work on Street Team together sometimes.”

“Did he read your message?” Robby asked, trying not to sound jealous. He knew he failed when Perlah’s eyebrow shot up.

Langdon shook his head, shoving his hands into his pocket when Mel stepped next to him.

“What are we talking about?” Mel asked, smile faltering when Langdon gave her a look comparable to a kicked puppy.

“Whitaker,” Langdon offered quietly.

“I tried to ring him yesterday. He seemed… sad… or…” Mel shrugged. “It went straight to voicemail so I just thought he was busy, is that not..?”

“He didn’t come home last night,” Santos offered.

Mel tilted her head. “Could he have gone home with someone else?”

“What?” Robby barked, ignoring the startled look from at least four patients.

“It’s not unusual for people to seek comfort in strangers when they’re having a hard time emotionally,” Mel supplied and Robby made a mental note to invite her to their next after-works drinks. “Though, I imagine he’d probably prefer to go home with you.”

Robby winced and Mel looked vaguely confused.

“Were we not supposed to know?” She asked Langdon who just smiled fondly at her.

“Three minutes,” Princess updated and their group fell silent.

Robby didn’t even know how they’d find Dennis.

Or his dad.

If his phone was going straight to voicemail, then he’d probably turned it off.

Maybe he had gone home with a stranger after he’d left his family.

Maybe he’d walk through the door with the spark back in his eyes and a spring in his step.

Maybe they were all worried for no reason.

“Shit,” Perlah whispered, eyes widening in horror and Robby braced himself as he turned to face the door.

“Shit,” he agreed, already moving across the room towards Dennis.

His eye was splashed with black and purple, up to his forehead and down to almost kiss his lip.

Blood was dried in a gash right on the swollen lump where his cheekbone should be and Robby felt sick when he realised the cut was in the shape of a signet ring, short and fat and square.

Shaky hands lifted right as Robby reached for him, catching Robby’s wrists.

Red was caked under his fingernails and his knuckles were bruised.

“It’s–”

“If you say it’s fine, Dennis, I swear to God,” Robby muttered, gently cupping Dennis’s jaw and tilting his head towards the light.

The blood vessels in one of Dennis’s eyes had burst and the blue of his iris looked unnatural against the bright red.

“Oh yeah,” Dennis smirked, flinching when it pushed at the bruise at his cheek. “What’re you gonna do? Hit me?”

Robby just gently pulled Dennis against his chest and tucked his bruised face against his throat.

Dennis sucked in a shaky breath and fisted a hand in Robby’s hoodie, right above his heart.

“What happened, Dennis?” Robby muttered as he glanced over at the gaggle of doctors and nurses watching worriedly from under the board.

Santos was doing a valiant job of stopping the tears that welled in her eyes from falling and Javadi had slipped her hand into Santos’s, giving her something solid to hold onto.

“I can work,” Dennis said into the fabric of Robby’s shirt.

It broke Robby’s heart to hear.

The need to be useful was as familiar to Robby as it was devastating.

“I know, kid,” Robby soothed. “How about you let me look at that cut first though, yeah?”

It was far too easy to pull Dennis along, still tucked under the safety of one of his arms. His short buzzed hair tickled Robby’s exposed forearm until it hurt as Robby nodded for Dana to fetch him some supplies and meet them in a nearby exam room.

He heard Langdon start to take over the morning briefing and let himself remember the time when he would have trusted Langdon with his life.

It was jarring to realise that he still would.

It was Langdon’s life he didn’t trust Langdon with.

“Sit down for me, Dennis,” Robby whispered, pulling over a stool for himself as he poured Dennis into a treatment chair. “There you go.”

Dennis immediately shrunk in on himself, shoulders curling as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

His bruised fingers wrapped around his shins and he looked so incredibly lost.

The door swung open and Dennis flinched.

“Sorry,” Dana muttered, meeting Robby’s eyes with pure worry.

“It’s fine,” Dennis said, words robotic and well practised.

Robby just pulled the table along on its rollers for Dana to drop the tray of supplies onto.”Can you grab an ice pack for me, please, Dana?”

She nodded before drifting back out of the room.

“I’m going to have to check the bone for breaks, okay?” Robby asked, shifting his seat closer so he could get a better look at the violence stamped across Dennis’s face.

“It’s not broken,” Dennis said, chewing his lip until a bead of blood bloomed against his teeth.

Robby just gently cupped his jaw and pulled the abused lip free with his thumb. “How do you know?”

“No pain increase under physical manipulation.”

Of course the kid had examined himself.

“When did it happen?” Robby asked, carefully wiping the meat of the cut with antiseptic. The edges were already scabbing over and the wipe came away pale pink rather than red.

Dennis’s eyes shot to Robby before dropping to his knees with a slight shake of his head.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Robby asked, wiping along Dennis’s knuckles before spending his time prying the dried blood from under Dennis’s short nails. “Besides here?”

Another shake of the head.

“Are you sure? If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I can get someone else to–”

“He tried to choke me but I stopped him.” Dennis’s voice was so soft that Robby had to strain to hear it.

The only reason Robby didn’t burst into tears was because Dana chose that moment to push back into the room and carefully press an icepack to Dennis’s cheek.

Her free hand dropped to squeeze Robby’s shoulder. “A word?”

Robby glanced up at her before nodding when he saw the set of her jaw. “Yeah, I’ll be right back. Dennis, I promise, I’ll be right back, okay?”

A short nod.

Dana wasted no time in ushering him out of the door and pulling it closed. “His brother’s here.”

“What?” Robby barked, crossing his arms and craning his neck to try to catch sight of the guy. “Where?”

“Perlah’s giving him the grand tour,” Dana muttered, eyes scanning the crowd of the ED like he was going to leap out and tackle her. “He’s demanding to see Whitaker.”

“I’ll–”

“Hey! You!” A voice shouted. “Are you in charge here?”

Robby turned and knew he was looking at Dennis’s brother.

They were nearly identical.

Or they would have been if Dennis was six-foot-something, two hundred-and-something pounds of pure muscle, and kind of a dick.

But those wide blue eyes were too familiar and familial to belong to anyone other than a Whitaker.

Robby wondered if they came from their piece of shit dad.

But that would mean he’d given his sons anything other than pain.

“Yeah, who the fuck are you?” Robby barked, deciding anger was easier to find than patience.

“I’m Derek Whitaker. Where the fuck’s my brother?” Derek said, stomping over and Robby could only picture the scene from Jurassic Park. The one with the water glass.

Dana shot Robby a disapproving glare before turning back to the brick shithouse of a man in front of her. “I need you to lower your voice, Mr Whitaker.”

“I know he works here,” Derek barked and Robby was rapidly realising that Derek didn’t have a lower volume. “He’s my brother and he–”

“Enough!” Dennis yelled, louder and more out-right aggressive than Robby had ever heard him. He’d yanked open the door and his mismatched eyes were wide with a feral sort of anger. “Shut the fuck up. This is a fucking hospital not a fucking hockey game.”

Derek snorted a breath out of his nose like a cornered bull before actually looking at his brother. “Are you okay?”

“I’m–”

“He’s fine,” Robby supplied before turning to try to usher Dennis back into the room and away from his brother. “Come on.”

“Oi, back the fuck up!” Derek snapped, thick hand grabbing Robby’s shoulder and he heard something crunch under the flex of Derek’s hand.

“Get in here,” Dennis snapped, gesturing to the room then his brother. “Now!”

Derek shoved Robby out of the way before stalking into the exam room behind Dennis.

A silence so deeply profound that Robby worried he’d gone deaf swelled in the ED as every doctor, nurse, and patient stared at him.

He gave them all a vague wave he hoped said ‘nothing to see here’ and ‘get back to work’ before he ducked into the room and pressed his back to the door.

The two brothers were stood almost chest to chest, panting.

Dennis broke first. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Making sure you’re okay,” Derek shot back. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Dennis said before tossing an indecipherable look at Robby. “Nothing’s broken.”

“Is that true?” Derek turned to Robby and it was terrifying having both of their attention. “Dr…” Derek glanced at Robby’s name tag. “Michael.”

“It’s actually–”

“Dr Michael’s checked me out already,” Dennis said, eyes wide and pleading as he looked at Robby.

“Must be weird,” Derek muttered and Robby was surprised to hear his voice that quiet. “Having a boss with the same name as Dad.”

Ice ran down Robby’s nervous system as he swallowed around a rotten emotion. “Your dad’s called Michael?”

“It’s a common name,” Dennis sniffed, wincing when it pulled open the cut at his cheek as he turned back to his brother. “You can go now. You’ve checked and I’m still alive. You can tell Dad the bad news.”

“Denny…” Derek clenched his jaw as his huge shoulders slumped. “He’s… you know what he’s like. It was just a… it was just a stupid misunderstanding.”

“It looks like more than a misunderstanding to me,” Robby muttered.

Dennis held a warning hand up at Robby and they both ignored the shake to it.

“There was no misunderstanding, Derek.” And for the first time since his brother arrived, Dennis sounded scared. “Dad was right.”

A baffled smile bloomed on Derek’s face before it fell into confusion. “No, it… it was a mistake. That… that wasn’t… right?”

“Dad’s right,” Dennis said as casually as someone can with a red sclera, bruised face, and bloody knuckles. “I’m just a filthy fucking faggot.”

“Hey!” Robby heard himself bark.

No one paid him any mind.

“No, you’re not,” Derek said immediately.

“Yep. Take it up the ass and everything.”

Robby dropped his gaze to the floor and winced as Derek looked like he was going to be sick.

“So… that… that Robby guy is your… your what?” Derek asked, hands flying up as if to ward Dennis off in case he pounced on him.

“Robby?” Robby asked, voice impossibly hollow.

“Robby texted me.” Dennis never took his eyes off Derek but the wobble was back to his bottom lip. “Dad saw it and hit the fucking roof. Hit the roof then hit me.”

Robby had to lean back against the door to stop from keeling over.

Panic tightened his chest as guilt threatened to choke him.

“Is this Robby guy a…” Derek searched for something before throwing his hands up in the air. “Can I say faggot?”

Robby said ‘no’ at the same time as Dennis said ‘he’s not’.

Their eyes met and Robby cleared his throat. “No, you can’t use the f-slur here. As to… this ‘Robby’ figure’s proclivities then, yes. He’s interested in men.”

Derek’s nose wrinkled at the word ‘proclivities’ but he just took in a slow breath. “Wait, I… so you are? A fa…” He glanced at Robby. “A queer?”

“Gay,” Robby corrected with a wince.

“That.” Derek pointed a finger at Robby.

“Yep,” Dennis said, bracing himself.

Derek nodded. “Right. Well… okay.”

“Okay?” Dennis said, looking to Robby as if he was worried he was actually concussed and this was all some coma-induced hallucination.

“I mean… I don’t get it,” Derek said, eyes darting to Robby like he needed everyone to know that he wasn’t ‘one of them’. And Robby wasn’t sure why they’d both decided he was some sort of neutral observer. “But… I mean…”

“He was going to kill me.”

Robby knew Dennis was telling the truth by the way Derek looked down at the ground.

“Are you happy?” Derek asked, voice impossibly brittle. “With this… this… Robby… person.”

“I’m…” Dennis glanced at Robby before sighing and deciding something. “I just got sucker punched by my fucking Dad. I’m not happy, Derek.”

“No, I mean, does this…” Derek planted his feet and Robby had half a moment to panic that he was going to football tackle his brother before Derek’s lip started wobbling. “Does he make you happy?”

“Yes,” Dennis said immediately. “He makes me happy.”

“Then why is that bad?” Derek asked, jaw set and lip quivering ever so slightly. “If you’re…if you’re happy then… isn’t that all that matters?”

Dennis’s jaw dropped, blue eyes impossibly wide.

A full thirty seconds passed before Robby realised that Dennis actually wasn’t going to say anything and he cleared his throat. “Yes, Mr Whitaker,” he said as Derek turned to look at him with teary eyes. “That’s all that matters.”

“Then why does my Dad hate him?”

Robby had to take a deep breath before he could reply. “Because your dad is a bigoted, hateful, piece of shit.”

“But he’s our Dad? Like, I don’t get this fa…gay shit.” Derek said, like it was really important that Robby understood that. “And it is kind of gross. And, sure, I don’t want to think about it. But…” Derek shrugged. “If God made us in his image, then… surely he made the faggots too.”

Robby suppressed an eyeroll with a wince. “Again, the f-slur. You gotta knock that off. But… I don’t disagree with you. I mean…” Robby glanced at the ceiling. “I do. It’s not gross. But the other bit, I–”

“Are you seriously saying you’re okay with me fucking a man?” Dennis said, seemingly finding his voice and Robby wished he hadn’t found it quite so bluntly.

Derek’s face did a complicated thing before he shrugged. “I think if I thought about you fucking a woman it would gross me out too. You’re my brother, I don’t really want to think about you fucking anyone.”

“What about him?” Dennis asked, pointing directly at Robby.

Robby could only mimic Dennis and point at his own chest, wide eyed, and mouth ‘me?’

“He wouldn’t fuck a guy,” Derek said like Dennis was being ridiculous. “He’s…” Derek puffed up his chest and made a vaguely masculine face. “You know?”

“I have,” Robby said because it was funny to watch Derek try to process that information. It had the added benefit of turning Dennis’s ears pink. “A few times. I’ve also had sex with women.”

“I think the intricacies of bisexualism might be a bit much for today,” Dennis muttered as his brother seemed to have blue screened. “How would you feel if I brought a guy home?”

“Dad would kill you both,” Derek said like it wasn’t a fucking insane thing to say.

“Obviously,” Dennis replied and Robby really needed to sit down. “I mean… what would you say if I started dating him, for example?” Dennis pointed a finger back at Robby.

Robby did his best ‘I’m very polite and smart and kind’ smile that he normally reserved for elderly women and small children.

Derek grimaced. “But then you’d have to be the girl? Do you… do you want to be the girl, Denny?”

“No, that’s not how it… we’re getting distracted,” Dennis muttered, hand coming up to rest against his forehead. “I’m gay. As fuck. I fuck men. And I let them fuck me. I enjoy it. And I’m happy. Is that okay with you?”

To his credit, Derek looked deadly serious as he weighed Dennis’s words. “Yeah, that’s okay with me. I have questions but… yeah. Yes. That’s okay with me.”

“Okay,” Dennis said, blinking rapidly. “That’s… that’s okay then.”

“But Dad’s not okay with it,” Derek said, mouth scrunched.

“No, Dad’s not okay with it.”

“And that makes him a…” Derek glanced at Robby. “...a bigoted, hateful, piece of shit.”

“Yeah,” Robby said.

Time stretched for a moment before Dennis nodded to himself like he was making a really dumb decision… but, then again, Robby wasn’t sure he was capable of making any other kind.

“I think I should go and have a chat with Dad,” Derek said. “But…” He looked at Dennis with a gentle half-smile. “...I’ll call you? When I get home?”

“Yeah, Derek. I’d like that.”

For half a second, no one moved.

Then Derek suddenly lurched forwards and Robby’s heart stopped.

He thought Derek might have been playing the long con and was going to ring Dennis’s neck after all.

But then Derek pulled his brother into a bruising hug.

“I love you, Denny.”

Dennis pulled in a shaky breath and, when he spoke, his voice wobbled dangerously. “I love you too, Derek.”

Derek dropped Dennis who had to reach out to grab Robby’s arm to stop from falling over. “And it was nice to meet you, Dr Michael.”

Robby’s eye twitched but he just nodded politely as Derek disappeared into the chaos of the Pitt.

“Holy shit,” Dennis whispered, hollowly.

Robby just wrapped him in a firm hug and rested his chin on Dennis’s head. “Yeah, holy shit.”

Less than ten seconds after Derek had made his exit, Santos burst into the room.

She took one look at Dennis’s shaking form. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

“No!” Dennis said, brething too quick and shallow to be anything other than hiccuped gasps. “I… we… fuck… Robby.”

“Derek, that’s Dennis’s brother, is…” Robby pulled a face that he knew was confusing when Santos snarled at him. “He seems… nice. He’s an idiot, for sure, but… nice.”

“So he didn’t call you the f-slur?” Santos said, eyebrows raised.

“He did but I don’t think he knew it was a slur. Look, it’s complicated and the strangest conversation I’ve literally ever heard but…” Robby waved a hand around before pushing it back against Dennis’s scalp; he had a brief moment of indescribable grief when he remembered that Dennis didn’t have his curls anymore. “Dennis’s Dad is the asshole. His brother’s just… asshole adjacent. And learning.”

“Do I need to kill your brother, Huckleberry?” Santos said, ducking to meet Dennis’s eyes.

He shook his head and a single tear dampened Robby’s shirt.

“Fine,” Santos said before looking up at Robby. “Shen’s here. He wants to talk to you. I’ll babysit Huckleberry while you’re gone.”

She didn’t wait before prying Dennis out of Robby’s hands and kissing Dennis’s forehead as she cradled him against her chest.

“Okay, but finish treating the cut on his face,” Robby said begrudgingly; he caught Dennis’s hand and pressed a kiss to his bruised knuckles before he could think better of it. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks, Robby,” Dennis managed to force out around the edges of his panic attack.

Robby pushed through the exam room door before taking a moment to lean back against it and close his eyes.

He heard the tinkle of ice in a plastic coffee cup before he felt Shen settle next to him.

“Why are you here?” Robby asked, opening his eyes to pin Shen with a raised eyebrow when he sipped his coffee quietly.

“Dana called me.”

“She did?”

“Yep,” Shen said with a small smile tugging his cheeks. “Said you were having a family emergency.”

“I am?”

“Sure seems like it. I am here to relieve you of your shift,” Shen said, arms spread wide magnanimously.

“You are?”

A hand clapped down on his shoulder and he blinked down at Shen. “Go home. Take your boy with you. At least until his family have left the zip code.”

“I owe you,” Robby said with a grateful smile.

“Damn right, you do.” Shen winked before wandering down the hall, taking time to grab Javadi from the back of her scrubs and stop her from eavesdropping any more.

Robby took a deep breath before he ducked back into the exam room.

“–did he mean?” Santos said, glancing at Robby as he let the door click shut behind him.

“I don’t know.” Dennis shrugged; he was holding the ice pack to his own cheek and the light was back behind his eyes. “We never got on growing up. To be honest, this is the nicest he’s ever been to me. My other brothers’ never call either.”

“You’ve been gone a while,” Santos muttered.

Something unspoken flickered between them and Robby tried not to feel left out.

“He didn’t know about that.” Dennis shifted the ice pack and grimaced as a drop of chilled water rolled over his jaw. He tried to wipe it away but it just dripped down to soak into the fabric of his shirt.

It took more self-control that Robby wanted to admit to stop from reaching out.

Santos hummed softly. “Are you going to tell him?”

“It’s not a problem anymore,” Dennis said and Robby felt the air change.

Santos turned to fix Robby with a calculating look.

“Trin,” Dennis warned, voice low.

“What did Shen want?” Santos asked, addressing Robby for the first time.

Another drop of water rolled towards Dennis’s lip and Robby had to clear his throat before he could speak again. “I’m taking Dennis home. He was just letting me know that he’s covering my shift.”

The silence that stretched was heavy.

Drenched in something that stunk of iron.

“Your home?” Dennis asked, fingers flexing around the plastic of the ice pack.

Robby nodded. “If that’s okay?”

“It’s… yeah,” Dennis said, pressing his lips together in a weak smile when Santos threw him a very obvious wink; Robby dutifully pretended that he hadn’t seen it. “Thanks.”

It took them forty eight minutes to get out of the ER; everyone from Lupe to McKay stopped them on their way out to offer varying levels of advice and help (which encompassed the full spectrum of kind words to offers of murder).

By the time Robby held the door that led out into the street open for Dennis, the exhaustion had really set in around the bruising on Dennis’s face.

“I’m not too far,” Robby soothed, settling a hand on Dennis’s lower back and guiding him along the frost-crusted streets gently. “Where did you go last night? Santos said you never made it home.”

Dennis drifted closer to him, like snow off a mountain side, before resting his weight against Robby’s ribs. “I just walked.”

Using a slight stumble from Dennis as an excuse, Robby slid his hand around Dennis’s waist more fully, cradling him into the safety of his body. “All night?”

Dennis just hummed and hooked his index finger in Robby’s hoodie pocket. “Did you mean it?”

Cool air whipped up around Robby’s ankles and he had to brace against the chill.

“Did I mean what?” Robby asked despite being fairly confident that he knew what Dennis was talking about.

He ushered Dennis up the steps to his townhouse and kept a tight grip on his shivering form as he unlocked his front door.

Dennis didn’t clarify and Robby didn’t push.

They had all day.

And hopefully longer.

Hopefully forever.

“I think I should shower,” Dennis muttered after kicking his shoes off next to Robby’s.

He turned, blinking up at Robby with wide bruised eyes and Robby’s heart broke at the soft sad exhaustion he found buried in the icy blue.

Without really thinking about it, Robby cupped Dennis’s cheek, thumb trailing feather light over the bruise at his cheek. “I think you should eat, sleep– just for a couple hours– then, when I’m not worried you’re going to keel over in the shower and give yourself another black eye, you can shower. Sound good?”

Dennis didn’t really look like he’d heard anything Robby had said when he just pushed his cheek further into Robby’s palm and let his eyes drift closed. “Hmm.”

It was cruel to be so utterly infatuated while Dennis was still in so much pain but Robby never pretended to be a good man.

“We need to have a conversation too,” Robby said, thumb dragging across Dennis’s unbruised cheek. Bright blue eyes snapped open and Robby just shook his head softly. “Not now. But… I think soon.”

“After food?” Dennis tucked his lip between his teeth as he finished talking and worried at the soft plush skin there.

It was far more tempting that it had any right to be. “After food and sleep and shower.”

“Okay.”

Robby ushered Dennis to sit on his couch as he left to make a quick but filling sandwich in his kitchen.

If this was another day, Robby would have taken his time to make something nicer. Pasta, maybe. Or something sweeter.

But he could impress Dennis later but, first, he needed to save him.

He grabbed a soda can out of the fridge on his way back to his living room, sandwich the size of a doorstop balanced on his last clean plate.

“Hey, so I don’t know if you like…” Robby stopped as he rounded the couch.

Dennis had made himself small.

So unbelievably tiny.

Curled up and wedged against the armrest, he looked more like a housecat than a human being.

His hand was resting over his head, like he’d learned to protect his face even in slumber and Robby’s heart broke for the hundredth time that day alone.

“Dennis?” Robby whispered, setting the can and plate on the coffee table gently. “Hey, kid?”

Robby took a step closer and the old wooden floorboards creaked.

A blue eye with red sclera shot open and peered through the crook of his elbow as Dennis’s entire body tensed.

“It’s just me,” Robby soothed as he tried not to cry. “Just…”

“Food,” Dennis whispered, hand dragging free and pushing himself up to sitting. “Eat then sleep, right?”

Dull blue eyes darted up to look at Robby when he didn’t pass over the food. “Did your Dad really punch you because he saw my text?”

“Nu-uh,” Dennis muttered, shifting so he could grab the sandwich with one hand and crack the can with the other. “Not until after shower. If I can’t skip steps, then neither can you.”

Dennis took a somewhat triumphant bite of his sandwich before closing his eyes in pain and holding the cool can to his bruised cheek.

“Be careful,” Robby chuckled as he folded his arms.

With a weak eyeroll, Dennis nodded.

“Eat all of it and drink all of that.” Robby pointed at the can of soda as sternly as he could with the fond concern still choking his throat. “Then come upstairs.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but he was fairly sure Dennis didn’t give him one in favour of chugging as much of the can as he could.

Robby just headed up the stairs and into his bedroom, digging through his chest of drawers to find his comfiest t-shirt and a pair of boxers that he’d long outgrown in the hopes that they’d fit Dennis’s slender hips.

It was only a few minutes later, when Dennis stumbled into his bedroom and pulled on the t-shirt with bleary eyes, that Robby realised the shirt he’d handed over was from his med student days.

Which meant it was definitely older than Dennis.

Robby spun on his heel when Dennis just shoved his scrub pants down to pull on Robby’s clean boxers; his cheeks flushed with the thought of Dennis in his clothes in his bed in his house.

At the thought that Dennis could be his.

“Robby?” Dennis whispered, already clambering between rumpled cotton sheets.

It was too easy to cross the room and pull the sheets under Dennis’s bruised chin. “Yeah, kid.”

“Thanks, for staying with me when I was talking to Derek,” Dennis said, hand snaking out to loosely circle Robby’s wrist. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I’ll always stay if you want me to, Dennis,” Robby promised. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

Dennis fought a valiant fight to keep his eyes open but they both knew it was a losing battle; Robby’s bed was just too warm and Dennis’s day had been just too harrowing.

“Later,” Dennis mumbled, slowly slipping into a sleep deeper than his bruises. “Later.”

“Yeah, Dennis.” Robby leant forwards and kissed the short fuzz by Dennis’s temple. He hoped Dennis grew it back longer, so each curl sat proud and bright at his crown. “Later.”

He stayed vigil until Dennis’s breathing levelled out before he wandered back downstairs to clean up the plate and can.

It took everything in him to give Dennis space– the urge to stand guard settling into his bone marrow.

But he couldn’t bear the thought of Dennis waking up and flinching at the sight of him.

Maybe it was selfish.

But Robby had never pretended to be anything other than hideously and irredeemably selfish.

He flicked on a re-run of the Penguins game that he’d missed the previous night and ate his own sandwich in the soft light of midday.

The snow had stopped overnight but the huge grey clouds hung low and fluffy in the sky all the same.

The Penguins lost.

Robby couldn’t even find it in himself to care when he heard the shower click on right before the final whistle.

It was second nature to slink back up the stairs.

To lay more of his clothes out on the bed.

To offer his heart next to the folded pyjama pants and rolled up socks.

He knocked on the bathroom door when the water turned off. “Dennis?”

The door pulled open and wide bruised eyes met his.

“There’s more clothes on the bed,” Robby muttered, trying not to trail his gaze over the bare expanse of Dennis’s torso or the smattering of blonde hair leading into the towel slung low over his hips.

“Thanks,” Dennis said. “You ready to talk?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Robby asked, smiling fondly when Dennis shrugged. “Yeah, kid. We can talk. Just… put some clothes on first.”

A delicious pink blush crawled across Dennis’s unbruised cheek before blooming down his neck and onto the pale flesh of his chest. “Yep. Clothes. Good idea.”

Robby let Dennis shuffle into the bedroom alone; he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself from reaching out to touch if he had to watch Dennis pull on clothes older than him. And he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch yet. He was pretty sure that was where they were heading. But he couldn’t be wrong about this. Not when he needed Dennis safe more than he needed to kiss him.

“I’m done!” Dennis called and, when Robby stepped back into his bedroom, he’d perched on the edge of Robby’s mattress as he ran a thumb over the bruises at his knuckles. “I shouldn’t have punched him back.”

“Yeah, you should have. Guy’s a prick.” Robby sat next to him, ankles crossed and arms propping himself up.

Dennis snorted, wincing as it scrunched the purple at his nose. “That’s what Santos said.”

“Don’t tell her I said this but she’s usually right about this stuff,” Robby muttered, refusing to think about just how well Santos had read not only Dennis’s Dad but Langdon too. And Robby. She’d been right about Robby being a dick.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” Dennis asked, shooting Robby a meaningful look out the corner of his bloody eye.

“Yeah,” Robby lied, grinning at Dennis while he still could. “What did you think I wanted to talk about?”

“I hate to break it to you but I don’t think you’re Trin’s type.”

It was too sweet.

The kind of sweet that rotted your teeth and smelled like lilies.

Robby sighed. “What about you?”

“I don’t think I’m her type either,” Dennis mused, pouting at the far wall.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

The longer it stretched the harder it was to break.

Like Robby was trying to live in this moment forever.

Before reality crashed in.

Before Dennis politely told him to fuck off.

Before Dennis reported him for professional misconduct.

“My Dad didn’t punch me because he saw your text,” Dennis said as if he hadn’t even noticed Robby’s inner turmoil. “I mean… he did see your text, call me a fag, then punch me. But… it’s not like you texted me when I was twelve and he still punched me then so…”

“Jesus, kid,” Robby huffed, throat thick with grief for Dennis.

“I just mean, don’t feel bad.” Dennis nudged Robby’s socked foot gently. “I shouldn’t have antagonised him.”

“This is not your fault,” Robby said, unhooking his ankles to nudge Dennis’s foot back. “Your Dad’s behaviour is not a reflection of you.”

He left his toe resting against Dennis’s.

“I studied theology so he’d be proud of me.” Dennis chewed his lip until the small cut reopened. “I think he’s the only person to be disappointed when their son becomes a doctor.”

Robby bumped their shoulders together just to be closer. “He’s a bad person, Dennis.”

“That’s the thing,” Dennis whispered as he met Robby’s gaze. “He’s not a bad guy.”

“He wanted to kill you. That’s not bad?”

Dennis laughed but it was brittle. “He’s not always bad. He used to take me to peewee football and on the way home he’d take me to get ice cream. He showed up to every one of my games. He was good. Most of the time.”

“Most of the time isn’t all the time,” Robby noted gently. “If I don’t kill anyone for ninety nine percent of my life, I’m still a murder.”

Dennis sighed, shoulders curling around himself as he ran his thumb nail around the bruise at his knuckles. “I’m sorry for what I said about your family. About them being dead.”

“It’s okay,” Robby said, realising it was true as he said it. “I’m lucky that I get to mourn my family. I’m lucky that they loved me enough to be missed.”

A tentative finger rested on the back of his hand and Robby moved to lace their fingers together.

“Did you mean it?” Dennis asked. And Robby knew they weren’t talking about his Grandmother anymore.

Robby lifted a hand to drag his knuckles over the bruise at Dennis’s cheek. “Yeah. I mean it.”

Chapped bloody lips pressed against his and Robby could do nothing but lick the iron out of Dennis’s mouth.

Dennis whimpered when Robby cupped his jaw.

“Sorry,” Robby whispered, resting their heads together. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He knew Dennis knew what he meant when he kissed the corner of his mouth. “How long were you thinking?”

“What?” Robby blinked and smiled, confused, at Dennis’s wide eyes.

“How long were you thinking of letting me stay? You said you didn’t just mean one night. So… how long?”

Robby shook his head. “I meant forever but Santos might have a problem with that.”

Dennis laughed.

Loud and bright and tinged with iron.

It didn’t mean everything was suddenly perfect.

It took three months before Dennis’s curls grew out.

It took another four months before Dennis finally moved in with Robby (and he did still stay at Santos’s place every other weekend).

It took a year and two months for Derek to be a groomsman at Robby and Dennis’s wedding.

Dennis never stopped having nightmares about his father.

But Robby was there to hold him together.

And maybe that was as good as perfect as anyone could ever hope for.