Pairing: Emma Nolan & Brendon “The Shark” Park
Summary: Emma Nolan and Brendon Park have agreed to keep their relationship private, but all that flips upside down when Emma is attacked by a patient.
Notes: Contains violence against characters. If you don’t like that then don’t read.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/82828366
They’d agreed to keep their relationship private, quiet. Neither Brendon nor she wanted to be the center of the hospital's gossip. They’d made the decision together after filling out what felt like mountains of paperwork with the HR department of PTMC.
It was easier this way, and it’s not like it was hard to hide their relationship. They barely crossed paths in the hospital. Brendon avoided the Pitt as if his life depended on it most days. He hated that she insisted on staying down there. She lost count of the number of times he’d “casually” mentioned openings in other departments of the hospital. She appreciated his concern; she really did. It’d been so long since she had someone who focused on taking care of her, but she liked the Pitt.
She loved Dana, Perlah, and Princess, and she even loved most of the patients. Sure, sometimes it wasn’t so great. She still shivered when she thought about what had happened on her first day, when a man woke up, and in his state of confusion and agitation, put her in a headlock. But it wasn’t always like that. She met amazing people every day, and she got to help them. She adored her job, and she wouldn’t change it for the world.
It was a normal day, or at least as close to normal as any day at PTMC could be. It was slower than usual, quieter, but she knew better than to say it aloud. Last time she did, they’d had a sudden rush of patients, and Donnie grumbled about her for the rest of their shift.
She was doing her rounds, checking in with patients, when she heard Robby call for assistance. She rushed over, scanning the man with her eyes. His eyes were wide, and there was a thick cut on his forehead. “He got into an accident. We suspect he’s under the influence.” She heard someone call out. “He was getting antsy on the scene.”
She opened her mouth to tell Robby which room was open when she felt herself get backhanded so hard she clattered backwards, banging her head against the wall before sliding to the floor.
The next few minutes felt like everything was in slow motion. She remembers lifting her hand to her nose and seeing blood, a lot of blood. There was yelling, lots of yelling, but she couldn't quite make out what anyone was saying. Were they speaking to her? She couldn't tell. Her head was pounding. Everything seemed so blurry. She groaned when she felt hands helping her up before guiding her to an empty bed.
She tried to speak, but she couldn’t tell whether she succeeded. She’d never felt so uncoordinated in her body.
Her eyes squeezed shut when she felt hands gripping her face. They must have been checking her nose to see if it was broken. Or maybe they were checking her head. She was pretty sure she hit it on the way down. She hoped she didn’t have a concussion. Tonight was supposed to be date night with Brendon. A proper date night. He was going to take her out to a new restaurant she’d mentioned. Everything was going to be ruined now. She felt like crying or screaming. Maybe both.
She forced her eyes to open when she heard her name again. She met Dana’s worried face. “Can you hear me?”
She managed a nod, or at least hoped she did.
“Alright, you’re fine, hon. You’re in good hands here. That bastard isn’t touching you again. You’re going to be here for a few hours while you get checked out, but I’ll stay at your side as much as I can. Is there anyone you want us to call?”
She hesitates. She wanted Brendon. She wanted Brendon so much it hurt, but they were keeping their relationship private. She didn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Will I be able to leave by the time my shift is over?” She feels a sense of accomplishment when she properly forms a sentence.
Dana frowns and shakes her head. “You need a Head CT and then a few hours of being monitored. You took a nasty hit. You could have a concussion.”
“Can you call my emergency contact?” She asks before she can second-guess herself further. “It’s my boyfriend, and we’re supposed to go on a date tonight. I don’t want him to worry.”
Dana raises a surprised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
She chews on her lip nervously. “It’s still new.”
Dana gives her a small smile. “I’ll go get ahold of him. We bumped you for the CT line, so they should be coming for you in a few minutes.”
Brendon had never been the type to rush to his phone after he finished a surgery, at least not until he met Emma. Now he looked forward to reading one of her quick messages she’d send him in the spare minutes she was free from the chaos of the Pitt. The last message he’d gotten was from a few hours ago
- I can’t wait for dinner tonight!!!! :) <3
He didn’t fully understand the point of the emojis or symbols she loved to use in her messages. It seemed like a waste of time to him, but they were sacred to her, and she was sacred to him, so he stopped complaining about them.
Everything was fine. Everything should’ve felt fine. His surgery went well, and he was taking her out to dinner after both their shifts ended, but he couldn’t shrug off the sudden itchiness he felt. His gut was screaming at him. Something was off. His eyes were laser-focused on the missed call he had. His hands never shook; if they did, he wouldn’t be one of the best surgeons in the country, but they were shaking now for a reason he couldn’t possibly explain. He clicked on the voicemail and slowly brought the phone to his ear.
His brain couldn’t fully comprehend what he was hearing. It was Dana. He knew her voice from the years he’d spent working in the hospital, but his head refused to process her words properly. Emma was hurt. She’d been hurt. He felt his blood run cold. He told her to switch to another department. He practically begged her to. He fucking knew this would happen. He remembered that night in his bed all those months ago. When she’d confessed she had trouble sleeping some nights because a patient had assaulted her on her first day in the Pitt. Her first fucking day. She had nightmares over it, and now it’d happened again. They let someone's filthy hands land on her again.
His expression must have given away something because Garcia was suddenly raising her eyebrows at him. “Did something happen?” He wasn’t sure what he replied with. Something biting if he had to guess. He felt on the edge of losing his mind. He mentally checked his schedule. He’d finished his last surgery for the day. If they needed him, they’d have to settle for someone else. He needed to get to Emma.
He didn’t take the elevators; the damn things broke more often than they worked. He took the steps two at a time until he stormed into the Pitt. His eyes searched for her brown curls, but he couldn’t find her.
“Dr. Park, I didn’t know we called for Ortho-” It was the fucking farmboy of all people. The one who didn’t know what saline was.
He scoffed when Whitaker’s eyebrows furrowed. “Nurse Emma? They had to take her up for a Head CT. How’d you find out-” He shouldered past him when he saw Dana.
“Is Emma okay?” He asks, trying to keep his control from breaking free.
“I was hoping it was a coincidence when I read the name Brendon Park in her emergency contact information.” She sighs.
“Feel free to lecture me about corrupting your favorite nurse another time. Is she okay?” He grits out.
Dana either took pity on him or was too weary to give him a hard time. “She might have a concussion. She’s getting a CT for her head right now. She should be back in a few minutes.”
“What the fuck happened?”
She runs a hand over her face. “A drunk driver was admitted. He backhanded her. She hit her head on the wall before falling on the ground. He hit her nose, but it doesn’t look broken. A head injury is the main concern right now.”
“You know I’m not telling you that.” She replies. “He’s sedated. Emma will need to give a statement if she’s feeling up to it. He won’t get away with what he did.”
He takes a breath. He knows she’s right, even if he wants to rip the man apart with his bare hands. “Okay.”
She gestures to an empty room. “Wait there. She should be back soon.”
He’s drumming his fingers against his knees when he sees her getting wheeled back into the room. She looks fragile lying in the hospital bed. Her curls are in disarray, pulling out of her normally two neat braids. There’s already a newly forming bruise on her face. It’s an ugly, nasty bruise. She’ll have a full black eye by the end of the night.
She perks up when she sees him. “Bren?” She sounds miserable. He’s standing next to the bed before he even realizes he stood.
“I’m here.” He murmurs, refusing to give any attention to the eyes on them. They can shove their gossip up their asses for all he cares. She’s the only thing that matters to him right now.
“I’m sorry for having them call you, but they said I could be here for hours, and I didn’t want you to worry when I wasn’t waiting at your car for our dinner. I’m sorry-” Her eyes are watery. She looks chastised. As if she had done something wrong. As if any of this was her fault.
‘Stop.” He tells her firmly. “Do not apologize to me. None of this is your fault. I don’t care if the entire hospital knows about us tomorrow.” He grasps one of her hands in his, rubbing soothing circles over her knuckles. “I care about you being okay.”
“I think I have a concussion.” She murmurs. “Everything hurts.”
He’s spent decades in the OR. He’s seen some of the worst things imaginable, but seeing Emma Nolan in pain might be one of the worst of them all. He’s never felt so helpless. “They’ll give you something for the pain once they’ve ruled out swelling on your brain.”
"My brain isn’t swollen.” She replies.
“And your results will confirm that, but until those get back, no one here is risking it.” He replies.
She’s quiet for a minute before speaking again. He hates the guilty expression on her face. “I’m sorry I ruined our date night.”
He sighs. “Stop apologizing, Emma. You didn’t ask for a drunk to attack you in your workplace. We can go another time.”
She squints up at the light, and he stands to dim them. “Thank you.” He hears her say.
Robby comes in a few minutes later with Dana behind him. He does a decent enough job of not freezing when he sees him with Emma. “Good news! There’s no swelling, fractures, or bleeding in your head, but you do have a Grade 2 concussion.”
Brendon only half-listens to the instructions Robby lists off. He’s dealt with enough concussions in his lifetime. He knows the drill. He knows how to take care of her.
“When can I go home?” Emma asks.
Robby eyes him. “Will you be watching over her?”
“She’s staying with me. I have tomorrow off.” He replies before Emma can protest.
“Alright then, I don’t see any reason why we can’t discharge you. We know you’ll be in good hands.” Robby tells Emma before looking back at him. “You know the drill. Bring her back in if anything changes.”
“Emma, honey, the police are here. Do you think you can give them a statement?” Dana asks gently.
“You can wait if you want to.” He interjects.
Emma’s lips purse before she nods. “It’s okay. I’d rather do it now than another time. Can you grab my things from my locker?” She asks him.
He clenches his jaw. He knows what she’s doing. She’s trying to protect his fucking feelings of all things from finding out what exactly happened. As if he’s the one who needs protecting after today, but he won’t argue with her. Not here, not right now. He knew she’d tell him later tonight without an audience of nurses and doctors who couldn’t mind their own business.
“I’ll be right outside the door when you’re done.” He tells her before stalking out.
He shoots Whitaker a nasty look when he sees his wide eyes at where he just came from. “Mind your own business, farmboy. Don’t you have patients to see?” Whitaker gulps before looking back at the chartboard.
He crouches down to grab Emma’s bright purple backpack. It’s her favorite color. Half of her wardrobe outside of the hospital consists of it. His teeth grind when he has to stand outside the hospital for another ten minutes before the cops exit.
“Are you okay?” He asks. “They didn’t rush you?”
“No, they were fine.” She replies quietly. “I’m just tired. I want to go home.”
“I know, baby. I got your things. Dana put a rush on your discharge papers. We’ll be out of here soon.”
“You didn’t have to offer to babysit me. It’s not your responsibility.”
He shoots her a look. “Good thing I’m a grown man who is capable of deciding what he wants his responsibilities to be.”
“You know what I mean.” She groans.
“I do, and we’ve been over it more times than I can count. A relationship is a partnership, not whatever it is the boys you used to date made you think.” His eyes scan her over again. “Can you walk?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my legs.” She replies.
“No, but you have a concussion. Do you think you can walk to my car without getting dizzy?” Her hesitation was enough of an answer for him. “I’ll get you a wheelchair.”
“That seems overkill.” She argues.
“Would you rather risk it and pass out?” He counters. “That won’t get you out of here any faster.”
“People are going to talk about me for days.” She complains.
“If they do, then I can have a few words with them. Finally live up to my nickname.” He smirks.
“I saw you snap at Whitaker earlier. He’s nice.”
“He’s irritating. Doesn’t know saline from his ass.” He huffs.
“You can’t hold that against him for the rest of his life.” She argues. “He’s smart. One of the smartest here.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He responds as Dana comes back in.
“Alright, hon, you’re free to go. You be careful, okay? Don’t hesitate to come back in if something feels wrong.”
He watches Emma give her a small smile. “Thanks, Dana.”
“Can you get her a wheelchair while I pull my car to the back?” He asks. “I don’t want to risk her passing out.”
Dana nods. “We’ll have her ready to go by the time you’re back.”
He gives Emma’s hand a small squeeze. “I’ll only be a few minutes. We can stop at that Thai place you love on the way home.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
A few hours later, his hand was carefully running through her curls. “You feel okay?” He asks her.
She was propped against his chest. “I’d say never better, but that’d be a lie. This helps, though. Thank you.”
He presses a soft kiss to her temple. “The medicine will kick in soon. Concussions are more annoying than anything. You’ll already be feeling better in the morning.”
“Will you make me those blueberry waffles?” She asks.
“I’ll make you whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“Will you do whatever I want?” She coaxes.
“You’re not getting your phone, Emma.”
“I just want to see if anyone from the hospital has checked in.” She protests.
He snorts. “No. You want to see who’s all asking about Brendon “The Shark” Park circling your hospital room.”
“Aren’t you curious?” She asks, peering up at him with her wide brown eyes.
“No.” He replies. “They don’t matter to me.”
She looks scandalized by his words. “That’s harsh.”
“It’s honest.” He corrects.
She mutters something under her breath before relaxing back against him. “After I’ve recovered from this concussion, we should go out to the bar after one of our shifts. People could see that you’re actually nice.”
"Let me know the date, so I’m able to secure my own concussion.”
“Do you even like bars?” He asks.
“No.” She admits. “But that’s not the point.”
“Seems plenty of the point to me.” He presses another kiss to her head, this time behind her ear. “When you’re fully recovered, we can discuss it again, but I think you’ll prefer a dinner with me over a crowded bar with your co-workers. Does that seem like a reasonable compromise?”
“You always sound reasonable.”
He smiles. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you up with blueberry waffles tomorrow.”
Notes: holyyy yap wow. i was gone for a few days, and decided to make a one-shot barely meant to pass 1k words instead, almost reach 3k. i didn't have a structural plan for this one, and it sorta exploaded on me. i wasn't sure where to end it, and it somehow kept going. (similar to how these notes never seem to end.) i still refuse to proofread my writing, so here's to hoping the errors are minimal. all of my medicial knowledge comes from whatever i remember on the show, so just look away if you're in that field. also, very sorry to my good friend dennis whitaker. i just find it hilarious to write brendon with the most intense one-sided beef with him. okay, i'll shut up now. thank you for reading!
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