#1

‘Dennis escaped but can’t escape from the daddy and dad in his head’

It had been three month since he managed to escape.

Three months since he was found half dressed, in middle of nowhere, one of the biggest storms the city had seen in years. Pure luck he managed to stumble onto a road, the car nearly hitting him. A few hours later he was at the police station, a few more with Trinity’s arms around him while they sobbed.

He was missing for nine weeks.

Nine weeks with a collar around his throat, kneeling at their feet.

Nine weeks of “Now puppies don’t speak do they?” And “That’s what you needed right baby, your owners to take care of you?” And “Yes pup just like that, -Fuck, be a good boy for daddy”

He couldn’t identify them, the house, where he was kept.

He never saw them, eyes always taped and soft fabric tied tight. He was sure they used voice changers, at first anyways. Towards the end though it all gets abit hazy.

Soft hands and gentle lips. Safety and warmth between their bodies. In their bed. If he thinks hard enough he’s sure he can see them, truly see them, blinking up at them, hearing them sooth him, play with him. Own him.

He stops thinking hard.

It’s a trauma response the doctors say. A dead end the police say.

So the case stays open. But life continues. The news moves on to other stories and he gets discharged from the hospital soon after. Physically he’s in good shape. The best shape he’s ever been in actually. Well fed and almost cared for. He shudders.

Mentally he’s not so good.

He flashes back a lot. Moments of hands in his hair and the collar jiggling around his neck. Food being hand fed and fingers deep inside him. So fucking good it hurts.

He feels empty in more ways than one.

Trinity doesn’t let him sleep alone. He doesn’t mind it. Knows she’s trying to comfort both herself and him that he’s here and safe.

He doesn’t feel safe. Hasn’t felt safe since he stumbled out that front door. Hearing them shout after him.

He lays awake at night. Every night. Listening to her breathing. Counting the flecks on the ceiling.

They say it will just take time. He’s been through a traumatic experience and just needs home.

But this homes sheets don’t feel right anymore. The clothes don’t feel like his and the hand across his waist is all wrong.

Everything is wrong.

Going back to work helps. Although it was hard to push for it. Robby was so unsure of him coming back but he feels more himself in the ER. Feels closer to that feeling of home he’s been chasing for some reason. And if nothing else the sheer exhaustion of a shift (even if it’s just half) has him passing out to sleep some.

The gossip of his return has slowly died down too and people have stopped walking around on egg shells with him mostly.

He still feels eyes on him though, feels like someone is seeing the ‘wrongness’ that has twisted itself into him. He can never pinpoint from where.

So he works.

He works like a normal person and goes home like a normal person and he pushes down the need to drop to his knees and play with the collar that has not been there in months.

It was a quiet shift. Almost boring with the amount of staff in for it. He noticed he’d only been on when there was full team. He’d been meaning to bring it up to Dana but didn’t have it in him. He’s avoid speaking a lot these days.

“Puppies don’t speak baby”

It was a rare day however with both Jack and Robby there, Jack having switched to help cover a few hours for something or other. Dennis wasn’t sure, but it felt good to have them both there. Safe. Both close. Both eyes-

He shakes his head turning from the board.

Normal, a normal person, who works a normal job and is a norm-

Dennis smashed straight into a chest, hands catching his hips before he could go too far. He flashed.

‘Fingers digging into his skin, his body pulled back over and over again. Another set hold his face up, chin tilted.’

“Fuck pup just like that. Fuck. Don’t stop- Jesus- Good boy. So fucking good for your dad yeah. Our good boy-“

Dennis blinks, his body crushing back to the present.

“Careful kid. You nearly went flyin- hey you okey? Dennis?”

Jacks hands tightened briefly, head tilting downwards to make eye contact.

Dennis stomach twisted.

His voice missing. He whimpered.

“Trauma room one! Jack with me!”

Jack held the eye contact a moment longer. Dennis was sure he saw his lip twitch. He was gone before Dennis could move. The ‘wrongness’ alittle less.

The shift continues.

A broken arm, eye infection, case of the flu. They flicker through. Dennis works. He works and works and keeps his eyes carefully away from Doctor Abbot.

He strays closer and closer to Robby by result.

“Good job in there Mouse, ordering that ECG, good catch”

His large hand squeezing his shoulder tight.

‘His collar is tugged up, face pulled into the soft chest he knows well by now’

“Good boy Dens. My good boy, come here baby. Let daddy touch you”

Dennis throat clicks as he swallows.

“Thank you Doctor Robby”

The 'wrongness' lessens again.

He floats through the rest of his shift, taking a breath as he finally finishing up his charting and makes a move towards the lockers.

He passes room after room.

Normal, a normal person finishing their shift and going home. His home. The one he built. His normal home.

He pauses by room 6.

Music?

“I’m sorry it’s the only thing we have found to calm him down”

The young mum smiled apologetically, stroking her son’s knee back and forth.

Her phone tight in his grip.

Robby’s laugh hits like a fist to his chest.

“Not at all, the beach boys are actually a guilty pleasure. This song especially”

Robby hummed along. The occasional word coming out as he continues to work, concentration fully on the job at hand.

Dennis spun. He flashed.

‘Cold tiles under his knees, the smell of bacon in the air and the soft gentle hum of music from the stereo.’

“Aruba, Jamaica, ooh, I wanna take ya. To Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama-“

‘A hand tugging his head back, fingers pushing against his lips-

“Open up pup. Breakfast”

-A routine. The same morning routine. Daddy’s morning routine. Robby’s-‘

His head throbbed. World spinning.

Out he needed out.

He stumbled to the outdoor stairwell, panting, sweating, body going numb. Panic building, music still bouncing around his head.

“Key Largo, Montego, baby, why don't we go”

‘Dad’s knee hard under his cheek, kneeling between his legs, fingers pulling through his hair, coconut shampoo and water against his back’

“There we go pup all clean. Smell just like dad again”

“Ooh, I wanna take you down to Kokomo, We'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow”

‘Daddy chuckles as his fingers tickle down his sides. T-shirt pulled over his head. A kiss pushed to his forehead.’

“My ticklish little pup. Hmm? All cosy.”

“That's where we wanna go. Way down in Kokomo”

“Feel good puppy. Yeah? Just like that, fucking made for us. Made to take dad’s cock”

‘Hands tugging his thigh higher, hooking it over dad’s hip.-

“Good boy Den. Such a good boy. All ours baby all ours”

-His palms pressed against his daddy’s chest. Body smushed on his side between them both. Panting into daddy’s neck, dads fingers rubbing faster and faster over his clit’

‘His daddy and his dad and

- His Robby and his Jack-‘

The needle dug into his neck before he could even react. Eyes going wide and body limp. Strong hands catching him before he could hit the ground.

“I got you pup, I got you, there you go.”

Jacks arms pulled him tight to his chest, fingers pushing his hair back as he whimpered.

“Dad.”

“Shh, shh yeah. Yeah dad’s got you. I got you. Daddy’s coming. We got you puppy. Never letting you go again. Time to go back home.”

Dennis eyes fluttered, face pushed into Jack's neck as he hummed. The sound of a door opening and Robby’s voice again.

He was safe, he was warm, he was going home again.

The 'wrongness' finally gone.

---

Jack only met Dennis Whitaker once, and he only feels a little bad in saying that with everything happening in the aftermath of Pittfest, he didn't really remember the kid that well. He had a vague memory of big, fearful eyes, a competence fitting of an MS3, and nothing particularly loud or remarkable about the kid.

He didn't think too much of it, beyond a vague and academic concern, when Robby greeted him with a frown a couple of nights later at handoff.

"Are you gonna tell me or do I need to guess?"

"Whitaker hasn't shown up for his shifts the last few days."

Jack blinks, taking a moment.

"The med student? Brother, maybe the MCI got to him. That shit was trial by fire, and the reality of what we do isn't for everyone. Maybe he's just taking some time, thinking about his options."

Robby nods, but Jack can tell he's not convinced.

Turns out, he's right not to be.

dennis fought, of course he did, but it was weak and uncoordinated. he hadn't eaten in at least a day. his yelps and shrieks were ineffective on account of how rusty and unused his voice was. the coffee shop that would give him water sometimes changed their policy.

he was just so cold. the hands that grabbed him weren't exactly welcome, however, they were warm.

the room they put him in was plain. few decorations, beige carpet, a big foam roll on the floor. there was a collar on his neck and something jingled on it, but he it was too tight on his throat for him to get a good look at it. it was locked onto him somehow. 

it was a room though. and a bed. and there was a bowl full of water in the corner. the heat kicked on recently, and the domestic sound nearly made dennis tear up. it was his wildest dream and his worst nightmare. 

jack and robby were listening in the hallway. robby whispered, not wanting the sound to travel, "why hasn't he tried the door yet?" it was locked, obviously, but robby couldn't understand not at least testing it.

‘hey man, good shift? puppy saved the day again?’

‘brother, i’m starting to think you need to bring some spare clothes to the pitt, just for the puppy. does he really spill things on himself that often?’

as much as robby doesn’t hates it, he knows it’s pointless to tell jack to stop. if anything, telling the other man to quit it would give him an incentive to become even worse.

so robby just takes it, until one day it just slips. in front of the kid.

jack finally gets to see the dennis whitaker in action, and holy fuck if he’s not impressed. it’s been a pretty rough shift so far, and whitaker has been handling it way better than he would have at his age. now, he’s in the break room, resting his leg and talking with the kid when robby enters.

‘you were right, brother,’ he says in lieu of a greeting. ‘kid is good’. robby can see the kid’s ears going a little pink, but doesn’t call him out.

‘yeah ?’, he asks sitting on the empty sit next to whitaker. the kid sandwiched between them now, with jack to his left, and robby to his right.

‘yeah. might trynna convince him to permanently switch to nights’ jack’s laughing, but robby knows better. because whitaker is that good, and he’s not about to let jack steal his favourite MS4, no way. he needs dennis with him - for very professional reasons, of course.

‘you trynna steal the puppy from me, jack ?’

any other day, it would’ve gotten a hearty laugh from jack as he mocks robby for the slip up. but not today.

because today, dennis is here, between the two attendings. and if the kid was a little pink before, he’s as red as a tomato now. robby resolutely does not picture how far down the blush must go under the scrubs.

he’s about to apologise to whitaker for making him uncomfortable, but well, the way the kid’s firmly looking at the ground and pressing his legs together right now ? yeah, robby can tell it’s the good kind of uncomfortable.

something hot stirs in robby’s stomach, and he finally stops trying to reign these feelings in after all these months, finally indulges himself fully.

he and jack share a look. the other man’s pupils are so dilated, robby has never seen his best friend’s pretty blue eyes look so dark.

when jack’s tongue comes out to wet his lips, robby’s eyes track the movement. jack looks up and down dennis whitaker’s body, taking in the flustered, the nervous swallowing, and god, is the kid shaking ? after a bit, he finally speaks.

they concoct a plan to make it look like dennis got lost in the appalachian mountains and just stumbled around for six weeks before finding his way out. he has an excuse for not turning up at his job for over a month, no one else is presumed to be involved, dennis has some pre-established hunting and foraging skills, it’s a perfect plan.

he's so ashamed of it, of how deep it runs. so, curled up with robby in bed, guilt sitting heavy in his stomach, he admits to it. whispers it against robby's chest, eyes squeezed shut like he can hide from the depth of it. I think I'm like... obsessed with you. robby chuckling, murmuring is that so? and dennis doubling down, insisting no, like, robby, I'm— dependent on you. completely. it's bad, it's like— if I didn't have you I would die, or something. I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm sorry.

robby humming soft, gathering dennis up in his arms, cradling him closer. quiet for a moment, rubbing slow circles over dennis's back, soothing his discomfort. chuckling again. oh, baby, I know. I should hope so. I thought I'd have to break you in a little more, but... it's like you came pre-made, especially for me. there's nothing wrong with you, little mouse, there's something very, very right. you're a very good boy for needing me.

dennis relaxing into robby's grip, shame dissipating, nuzzling weakly against robby's chest. maybe it should scare him, the admittance that robby knows, has known, this whole time. the admittance that robby would've broken him in, if dennis hadn't been so willing. yeah, maybe it should scare him, but it doesn't. all his brain latches onto is

you think I'm good?

oh, sweetheart, you are so, so good.

And Baran is nervous and trying to decide on an outfit because what do you wear to a scheduled blind hookup and eventually the doorbell rings and she finds none other than her former resident Trinity Santos standing there casually with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

It’s been over a year since Baran left her interim role and either of them have seen each other. Baran tries to form words but she’s struggling and Trinity finally saves her with, “Do you want to just grab dinner and catch up instead?”

Baran takes a moment to compose herself before croaking out a “Yes, please.”

They walk to a diner nearby that’s one of Trinity’s favorites. Baran watches as all the waitresses know and dote on Trinity. She gets to see Trinity outside of the stress of the hospital for once, see her rapport with these prickly older ladies. They discuss their lives since Baran left PTMC, with Trinity telling her about the wildest cases they’ve had and asking her about her new job and her son.

I feel like Baran would actually love to hear the Pitt gossip. Like she’s obviously very attentive and would want to know if she had correctly sussed out vibes between different members of her team. I think her curiosity would have her dying to hear the full drama that no one would have ever told her when she was their boss.

She spends the dinner getting used to the idea of Trinity being someone she’s allowed to be attracted to as opposed to some off-limits R2. So when Trinity walks Baran back to her brownstone and offers to leave without telling anyone about the setup, Baran instead meets her with, “Actually, I was going to see if you wanted to come inside?”

Lemme pick your brain for a sec; Stalker!Dennis stalking Jack without realizing that Jack's been in the game a lot longer than he has. Jack thinks it's cute that this kid is trying to sneak around his house like he hasn't got cameras in almost every corner. It's like watching a baby animal pounce on their dad (fauxcest wink wink nudge nudge)

ily and I hope you're having an amazing day

It starts off so innocent. Dennis wants to find a way to prompt more conversations with Jack because he's just so shy. Dr. Abbot can be so intimidating and Dennis just needs to find some common ground to spark a little interest.

So it's logical, to Dennis, that he can do this by just. You know.

Breaking and entering.