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“Excellent Job, Whitaker” Robby thumped him on the back as they slid out of the trauma bay. “Not many med students would’ve caught that!” His voice lowered, barely above a whisper. “I have a sneaking suspicion you’re gonna be a great doctor!”
Dennis looked down at his hands, knuckles white from how hard he was digging them into his scrubs, twisted around the fabric.
Robby was just being polite. That’s what people do here. They say nice things so you don’t feel bad, then later, they realise they were wrong about you. They always realise.
Because Dennis was inherently a bad person. And he wasn’t worthy of any praise.
Don't look at him. Eyes down. If you look, he’ll think it's gone straight to your head. He’ll think your arrogant. Or needy. Just nod. Say Thank you.
“Th-th-thankyou” Dennis stuttered, quietly. It sounded like he was trying not to breathe too loudly. Shrinking away from Robby’s warm hand, resting on his shoulder.
Robby felt something tug in his chest, “You alright, kid?” Concern riddled across his face. He’d seen nerves before. He’d seen shy. He’d seen people that didn’t know how to react to a compliment. But this? This was someone who expected praise to come with a catch. Ripped out from under him.
Dennis let out a shaky nod, avoiding eye contact.
“I mean it. You did good in there!” Robby's head titling, trying to catch the eyes of the med student, crumpling under his gaze.
Dennis flinched. Barely, but enough that Robby caught it.
Dennis nodded again, like he was trying to shrink into the floor- He doesn’t know you. If he knew you, he wouldn’t say nice things like that. Nobody says nice things once they know what you’re really like
Robby’s eyebrows furrowed, lips tightening. Not believing Dennis’ nod for a second. “Okay-“ he hummed, shaking his head, backing away from the kid. Giving him space. “Okay…” Holding his hands up in defeat. He could tell Dennis was panicking and thought some space would allow him to recover.
Dennis watched as Robby walked away. Fuck. He’d made him mad. All he did was make problems.
He shoved his nails into his hand resting in his pocket until he felt the warm release of blood dripping down his hands. He took another sharp breath, his pace quickening as he made his way though the ER.
His breathing was erratic now, as he bumped into a monitor next to a patients bed. His skin was fuzzy, all across his face. His vision started to cloud as he stumbled into an empty room. Ripping the curtain across the bay.
His nails digging futher and further into his skin. His pockets starting to drip with blood and he relished in the pain.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he mumbled, hands shaking as he collapsed. sliding down the wall of the bay. His silent tears turning into sobs as he curled in on himself.
”I-i-im sorry…” He whispered out to the empty Room. “I shouldn’t have liked it. I shouldn’t have liked it. I shouldn't have wanted him to say that again. That’s dangerous, its temptation. That’s how people fall. Please My Lord, I’m begging you. Take it away. Please God, Take this feeling away. Take me away” His Sobs drowning out his feeble voice.
He slid further and further down the wall, crashing against the tiles. His head whacking on the cold floor. That’s good, that’s pain. That’s what you deserve for thinking you were good enough. For letting yourself think that, even for a moment.
“North Fifteen’s open!” A voice shouted, ripping open the curtain. Joined by the sound of footsteps
“Six year old female, history of…” the voice trailed off as two men entered the bay.
“Dennis…?”