***

margot studies her for a long moment — the slump of her shoulders, the bloodshot eyes, the way her hands fidget in her lap. there's something achingly human about it, and there's a part of margot that almost wants to reach out and steady her, to promise her that it's not the end of the world. she feels a tug at her chest, faint and brief — a flash of who she could have been if she'd been allowed to be softer, gentler. but it doesn't last. the bigger, stronger part of her — the part that's always hungry — surges forward instead, drinking in lottie's the helplessness like it's fuel. she wants to own it and bend it into something that belongs to her entirely. and so, for now, the softness in her is for show, and she lets it manifest outward for lottie's sake while the rest of her waits, poised and patient, savoring the leverage she's already storing away for later. "alright, well, i'll spare you the humiliation ritual — i did hear about it," she starts, but doesn't let the words linger too long before giving lottie some much needed reassurance. "and for the record, you're not the only person in the world to make that mistake." she straightens a little, pretending to look at something in her pocket just to give lottie space to breathe and to figure out what she means by that.

lottie has spent the last six months waiting for an anvil to fall from the sky and to put her out of her misery. in a "no i'm not serious i'm just self-depricating and maybe a little depressed but don't worry about me" kind of way, for the most part. but when margot admits that she knows, lottie prays for the anvil harder than she's prayed for anything before.

“splash of milk,” theo echoed, digging around his drawer for the lid that went with the cup before moving down the hall. he was in no rush — indy was meeting them in the parking lot and the hospital wasn’t that far away. handing off the coffee, the resident shrugged one shoulder. “there’s no rush,” he assured what must have been the eighth time. “i really don’t mind you staying here. but like i said. i assume a bed would be better than a couch.” realistically, his mother is in philadelphia absolutely appalled that he didn’t offer his cousin his bed and he take the couch. but theo was almost too tall for the couch that was about a square foot away from being too big for his space. so sure, he felt bad, but also it was the best case scenario for everyone involved. “i’ll keep an ear out here for something opening up. but have you talked to miller? he’s either got a spare room or it’s about to be the off season for his family’s airbnb that he runs. that might be something.”

"thanks." lottie takes a sip of the coffee as soon as it touches her hand. "for letting me crash here as long as you have. i promise i'll find a place." or she'll start paying half his rent. but with her parents holding out on her and the measley sum the hospital pays her, she's not even sure she can afford that.

Spencer looks up from the documents he's reviewing, eyes tracing over the intern. There's a sarcastic comment burning on his tongue, but he holds it back, hearing someone's voice (probably Tess') telling him to be nicer. Nicer to her meant different things to him, though, so he returns to looking at his paper and flips it to the intern. "Patient has elevated tropinin levels. What does that mean?" he awaits her answer for all of a second before adding: "Tick, tock. And here's a hint, the nurses aren't gonna tell you shit if you yell at them, so try not to piss them off before you're my intern. It's annoying."

great. the man holding the key let her through the gates of the cardio department has a smug look on his face and is already rubbing her nose in what she's sure will go down as her finest moment in pine valley.

“alright so that’s what i’m sayin’,” miller accentuated sipping his drink and pulling a face as the hot beverage hit the back of his throat. he probably should’ve gotten iced, but at this point, he wasn’t even tasting the coffee, just mainlining it for the energy. “but whenever i go to cook when i get home i fall asleep until i have to leave for my next shift.” and when it came to cooking over his days off — he always ends up inviting people over to try whatever recipe he came up with. there were never any leftovers. 

"okay sure, like, eat a chicken breast or whatever. but if you start talking to me about macros i'm breaking up with you. that's, like, ninety percent of my tiktok feed. people cooking the nastiest looking thing i've ever seen in my life and telling me to check out the macros." it's as if her algorithm knows she can't remember the last time she ate something that didn't come from a vending machine or a coffee cart.

“i think that’s the next step for sure,” indira said, leaning back in her said and shrugging a shoulder. “i think the problem is that then people would start challenging him and i know a bunch of people that could kick his ass, so an arena is inviting disaster. i think he’s hoping they pick each other off.” her friend’s question made the other nurse pause. ‘“i mean it would be harder to fire some of us,” she said after a second of consideration. “i think most of us are part of the union right? sullivan doesn’t seem like the type to want to jump through hoops. so i think we’re safe.” indira, at least, was behaving like she was safe. 

"the union makes us strong," sam shrugs, hoping it's true. he picks up indy's phone, pinching the screen to zoom in as if that's going to give him a better insight.

a hum of understanding leaves margot as she nods once, very much familiar with the kind of rough day lottie's having. she'd been there before, and it isn't easy walking around a hospital with a proverbial branding practically etched into your forehead — but where margot had simply been called a slut for a few years before she moved on to a different state after residency, lottie's indiscretions had made national news. there's nowhere she can go that her past won't follow her, which makes it a hell of a lot easier for margot to position herself as an ally. "oh, i don't think so," she shakes her head slightly, chin tilting as she zeros in on the intern. "those nurses can be nasty and some reactions are warranted. you don't have to tell me the details, but in all honestly it sounded to me like she had it coming."

it will be much later, tonight when Lottie is lying awake on her cousin’s uncomfortable sofa, when lottie realizes why margot’s words feel like slipping into a hot bath. a comfort engulfing her like she’s been out in the cold her whole life. she’ll stare at the ceiling and piece it all together. the realization settling over her that margot is the first person to take her side in months.

Violet chuckles, despite the sadness of it all. All they could do was drink their coffee and hope for the best for that kid. Unfortunately, Sullivan wouldn't be saving their asses if it came down to it-- at least that's how Violet saw the ominous warning looming over them after the Gala. "I don't think so-- but we can enjoy our coffees and when they come back, we'll just smile and try not to say 'I told you so'. Unfortunately, I've gotten really good at that," she says with a shrug. "Part of being in the Peds team. How close are you to being free from the Pit? Close?"

“if they come back.” sam sips his coffee to keep from saying anything else. he doesn’t believe in much but why risk putting what he’s thinking out into the universe. all he can do is hope they come to their senses before it’s too late.

dinah snorts, head tilting so she can look at the picture on sam's phone. "you're running a halfway house for nicotine addicts but you're slut-shamming accountants?" she asks, taking the phone from his hands and zooming in on the abs, humming in mock consideration. "okay, but he has divorced dad energy. he probably owns a boat and overcompensates." she glances back up at him again, passing the phone over.

“no one’s slut shaming! i would never.” sam won’t open the door to that pot and kettle situation. “i’m income shaming, that’s completely different. i’m trying to fuck my way into a better tax bracket. and, yeah, a desperate to please me divorced dad is hot. splitting my inheritance with his kids? not hot.”

"if you want me to take my break now, all you have to do is ask." he'd actually be sort of happy to do so to entertain him, not that he'd admit it. and he wouldn't do it without sam asking. his pride was a bit too high for that. "and milf action? wow, sam, do you really think that little of me?" his tone was light, he didn't take offense to it, "for the record, it’s purely professional. i just happen to have excellent bedside manner."

sam rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to hide the smirk once it’s there. “take your break if you want.” he won’t ask, won’t even play at being desperate. but he will tell.

"i'm sure he also read the subtle art of not giving a fuck," she scoffs, eyes rolling. sienna's dating life has never been very exciting and moments like this just make her even more grateful that she seems to have found someone decent in a sea of disappointment. "these guys experience one coherent thought and think they're the main character." meanwhile whatever deep revelation they've had was something most girls experience before they even turn fifteen.

“celibacy isn’t enough,” she laughs. “i think i might actually need a lobotomy.” hammer a nail straight into the part of her brain that ever made her consider a man a viable option. or even just the part that drives the impulse in her to throw everything away for love.

“can people actually type on those things?” he nods his head to the tablet docking station on the counter. “if i have to use my thumbs to type i think i should be allowed to use emojis. endless eye rolls for-” sam shuffles to the first patient of his shift “-mr donovan who lost the base of his electric toothbrush in his back pocket this morning.”

“you got it,” theo said, already grabbing a mug with a lid. “how am i making this?” he called down the hall, wondering if he should’ve stocked up on coffee creamer for his cousin. “i’ve got milk and that’s about it here. so if you want something fancier i can ask indy to bring it into the car,” going back to the fridge, he grabbed the lunch he prepped the night before, and tossed an extra snack in his bag for lottie, just in case. backpack slung over his shoulder, he moved down the hall to lean against the wall across from the bathroom, an eyebrow arched upward as his cousin rushed through her morning routine. “not that i don’t love you being here, you do know that the solution to sleep depravation might be a bed not my couch. you ask the building manager about an opening here?” it had been a suggestion from him a week ago, since he was assuming lottie was going to be here for at least longer than a week, which was the maximum amount of time that anyone could pretend that theo’s couch was comfortable enough to sleep on.

“just a splash of milk will do,” she says, swiping on a few extra layers of deodorant on her way out of the bathroom. she turns her back to the kitchen, tossing the shirt she slept in on the couch and pulling a bra over her head without bothering with the clasps. lottie sniffs at a pair of jeans and a plain shirt before getting dressed, trying to make a permanent mental note to do her laundry after her shift.

— who: lottie & miller (@goblinkingg) — prompt: i’m sorry, i don’t believe in any of those things.

"okay obviously i agree with that. i barely remember what real food tastes like." ever since starting at pine valley, lottie's three main food groups have become coffee, hot cheetos from the vending machine, and picked over scraps from the pot lucks the older nurses throw for everyone's birthdays.

leaning back in her seat, indira smirked. “there’s no chorus,” she said. “if you think anyone in this hospital is thinking about anything but their next procedure, i got some bad news for you, buddy. we’re in a warzone right now,” when she heard doctor harrison grumble that as he broke up a fight between two interns fighting about who got to help with a gnarly looking trauma because they both needed to show sullivan they should be kept on, she had laughed. called him dramatic and gone about her day. but a few hours later, she was starting to think that he wasn’t wrong. “i appreciate the thought though — we’ll go out and do something on saturday. unless you’re about to tell me that you’ve got some big plans,” waggling her eyebrows, indy tilted her open bag of chips toward her friend.

"warzone," sam repeats, a solumn creep in his voice, "you think that was the goal? to scare a bunch of hyper-competative doctors into killing each other? you'd think sullivan's turned the er floor into a gladiator arena." he's managed to stay out of the way of the fight and has so far been unscathed. but there are whispers that the madness will come for everyone eventually. "you think they can fuck with the nursing staff?" he asks, wanting someone to tell him they're probably safe. "they can't, can they?"

The new wave of parents meant new challenges for doctors. Thirty-something years ago, doctors were begging for their patients’ parents to care and to maybe cool it with the emotional turmoil for their children. Now, parents won’t stop listening to Dr. Google and crackpot granola moms full of ideas for how to put-gentle the gentle parents. “I wish I could say that this is the first time this happened,” Violet sighs, running a careful hand to push her hair behind her ear. “We have a measles outbreak, and parents get even more firm in their beliefs to not vaccinate,” she adds.

sam rolls his eyes. his weekly screen time report would prove that sam's no stranger to the wonderful world of the internet that let's anyone with a front facing camera pretend to be an expert on medicine. "idiots," he mumbles.

taren huffs out a laugh. "if he does sleep it's standing up," she mutters, taking the pack from sam and lighting a cigarette immediately. the first drag burns just right. "he's just so obviously married to the job and i can't deal with that shit every day. he's probably like, divorced from an actual person who hates him and eats protein bars for dinner and now feels the need to take his pathetic life out on me by pushing me to do better." it should make her feel superior, but it doesn't. if she's being truly honest with herself, taren's life isn't much less pathetic than this imaginary reality she's projecting onto coop — but she'd never take the time to recognize that. "if i ever get like that, take me out back and fucking shoot me."

"he's probably one of those freaks who sleeps with his eyes open. always alert and ready to move." sounds miserable. sam has, with a lot of maneuvering, had very little interaction with the new man in charge. he's done his best to avoid him. authority makes him itch and he's never been good at keeping a straight face when his insides are squirming for escape.