💜Hannah💜

(Ilia Malinin x F1 Driver!Reader)

summary: They knew that being top athletes in different sports and chasing lifelong dreams would require sacrifices—but they never expected their relationship to be one of them. After a messy breakup, their paths haven’t crossed despite living in the same town. Yet the past has a way of catching up, and this time, there’s no clean exit.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(Ilia Malinin x F1 Driver!Reader)

summary: They knew that being top athletes in different sports and chasing lifelong dreams would require sacrifices—but they never expected their relationship to be one of them. After a messy breakup, their paths haven’t crossed despite living in the same town. Yet the past has a way of catching up, and this time, there’s no clean exit.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

"wheres the big guy?"

"i left him at home. hes in time out as punishment."

robby stares. eyebrows raises before you finally give in.

"hes home sick. which really is a punishment."

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader (starts as R4, ends as attending)

warnings: talks of suicide, suicidal behavior. Honestly it's pretty fluffy.

Jack Abbot had never really thought about jumping from the PTMC roof. Frankly, that sounded like more effort than he wanted to put in at the end of a shift. No, he pictured something simpler, like just stepping forward and letting himself fall. Quiet. Effortless. Final. Perfect.

He stood at the edge, hands in his pockets and watched the city coming to life below him. Every sound a reminder that life went on without him. Perfectly fine. A click announced the access door closing. He didn’t bother to look back, knowing it was Robby coming to save Jack from himself, just like clockwork. Jack exhaled, bracing himself for the familiar plea.

Instead, an unexpected voice called from behind him. “Robby said to tell you to at least wait until it’s not his shift.”

Dennis Whitaker x Popstar!Reader

Summary: You go on The Tonight show, you get interviewed my jimmy Fallon, and perform your latest song.

Masterlist & Part 1

CW: Language, suggestive content..? (Squint really really hard), slight talks of burn out and past relationships, inaccuracies to the tonight show (Timeline is pretty good tho, pittfest mention!!!, inaccurate to dancing (I literally just made up the whole performance and im not a dancer give me a break), grammar issues, sorta proofread (I skimmed over it)

WC: 2.4k

WAIT!!! Before you read this watch this music video I reference a lot of things such as costumes, dancing, and the song is performed so you should watch it, this chapter will make more sense if you do read it.

“Our next guest for tonight is an incredible performer, Grammy-nominated, who dropped their EP ‘Never text your ex after 2 am’.” Jimmy takes a breath, “Give it up for the incredibly talented Bowey!!” Jimmy reads off the teleprompter in front of him. The band starts playing upbeat music as you walk out of the royal-blue curtains. 

You smile brightly, walking towards the man, hugging him. “How are you?” He asks while hugging you.

“Im good! Happy to be here.”

You both walk towards the interview area. You are sitting on the couch, and him sitting at his desk. “First of all, you just dropped your new EP. It’s absolutely fantastic. How does it feel for it to be out? He asks, you take a sip of water from the water bottle sitting on the table next to the couch.

“Honestly, it feels really good. I was working on both of my EP’s that have come out at the same time. Originally, it was gonna be a mini-album, but it just didn’t end up working out, so we decided on two EP’s. I worked really hard on them. It was really fun as well.”

“I think we could all tell.” He motions his hand towards the audience, “For it only being released for almost two weeks, on social media, it's gotten a lot of attention, for how different all 3 songs are, if you had to pick, which is your favorite?”

You suck a breath in, thinking hard, “That’s really hard, but I would say, ‘Dying for you’.” You think about who you wrote it about: Dennis. “That song got scrapped when I first wrote it back in god, probably like late 2019, early 2020?” You ask yourself.

“It was supposed to come out with your 2nd album?” He asks.

“Yeah, it was going to, but then they scrapped it. I love the song so much, but it got shelved.” 

“Do we get to know who it's about…?” He looks at you.

“About my ex..” You cover your eyes with your hand. Peeking out through the cracks to the audience. A soft laughter comes from them. “That’s all im willing to say!” You smile a little, uncovering your eyes.

Jimmy laughs, “Okay, okay. How about we talk about Lollapolooza! You performed, I saw the videos of it, it was amazing!”

“I loved Lolla, it was great, the crowd was amazing! My team and I worked so hard preparing the whole thing to be perfect for you guys! Im so glad you enjoyed!” You look at the audience, facing your comment towards them. They cheer loudly. 

“Wow, speaking of Lollapolooza! It’s not the only festival you’ll be performing in this year!”

“Yeah! Im performing at Pittfest this year! I really love doing festivals and stuff like that because of all the dancing I can incorporate. Any chance I get, I’ll add a lot.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “Is that what brought you to music?”

You think for a minute, putting your thoughts in order. “Yes and no, I grew up in the middle of nowhere nebraska, I did dance, though it was only ballet.” You laugh, comparing the dancing you do now to ballet. “I really didn’t like it there. But I decided to stay, went to nursing school at the community college, the next town over.” You take a breath, reminiscing on the sour memories. “I wasn't good at it, but I stayed for a little while. I stayed for someone, but after a while, it really burnt me out. So I left. Afterwards, I lived in LA for a bit.” You laugh, “I did backup dancing, you could probably find me in a Coachella performance, actually. Jimmy laughs, “I released my first song independently on Soundcloud, and then got signed after it was discovered.”

“Wow, I wasn't expecting anything like that at all.”

“Yeah, but it gave me the experiences to write my music, it was worth it, wouldn't change a thing.” You say, but the one thing you would change is how you left Dennis. Maybe you would ask him to go with you, would he have gone? You don’t know, maybe he would’ve. You think about whether he’s still in Broken Bow or has left.

 Jimmy decides to change the subject. “Okay, well, a few months ago, a photo was posted on Instagram.” Jimmy pulls out a photo of you on the set of Euphoria. You're walking around with Zendaya, unaware of the camera on you. She laughs at a joke you told her.

The audience cheers, “Oh my god.” You groan, “It’s been announced, so I guess.. I could talk about it.”

Jimmy cheers, so does the crowd and band, playing music. “Okay, perfect. How did this opportunity even come to you?”

“Well, Sam Levinson emailed my team, asking if I could come in to audition. I was so nervous cause I had never done acting like that before. So I go into the audition, completely unprepared, I literally can’t remember it, god, it was so humiliating. So I leave the audition thinking I won't get it. But then, they call my manager, saying they love me.”

“Wow, how was it working with people like Zendaya?” The man asks.

“It was amazing! I mean ther’ye all so kinda and humble about everything! If anything, when I showed up for set the first day, they were more excited to meet me. That was surprising cause I wasn't expecting an A-list celebrity to be excited to meet me.”

“Well, everyone loves your music.” Jimmy laughs, “Speaking of music, I thought we could play a game,” he points to a screen to the left of a teleprompter. “On that screen, a song title will come up, and a genre will too, and you have to sing that song with the genre.”

You let out a low whistle, you sit up straight, “Okay! I got this.” Cracking your knuckles, you look at the screen.

“Kiss me more- Doja Cat & Heavy metal” comes up, and the band starts to play the music. As you read the lyrics off the teleprompter, trying to meet the vibe, you start to laugh.

After the song ends, the audience cheers, Jimmy claps, “Stick around – Bowey will be performing right after the break!”

It cuts to comercial break, people start to move stuff off the stage to make room for your performance, and the audience dies down. You quickly thank Jimmy, then run behind the blue curtain. Quickly, you run to your dressing room. Changing into your outfit. Your assistant helps you into your black body suit and leather shorts. You put on your boots. She clips on your mic pack, handing you the in-ears. You place them in your ears. You slip into your bomber-racing jacket. Your makeup gets touched up quickly. They run you to the stage. As Jimmy introduces you. Dancers line both aisles of the audience, in racing uniforms to match your jacket. 

 Jimmy holds a photo of the cover of your EP, “Welcome back, everybody. Performing 2 hands, from her EP: Never text your ex after 2 am, please welcome Bowey!!!” The audience cheers. Jimmy walks off to the side of the set.

 Backup dancers in full racing uniform fill the studio. Your in-ears start the metronome, and you sit on top of a sports car 2 backup dancers sit next to you. Your arms rest on either of their shoulders. You let the backtrack sing the intro, you take deep breaths in and out, to calm your nerves. Over your in-ears, you can softly hear the audience cheer.

I want your two hands

Don't ever let me go

I want your two hands

Two hands on me

Lights flash as the music starts, and the dancers in the aisle start to dance. Slowly moving down the aisle towards the stage. The dancer next to you holds the mic towards your mouth. The in-ears counting up, 1, 2, 3,4.

You don't need to tell me you love me

17 times in a day (yeah)

I don't need to hear I'm your number one

And everybody's second place

You don't gotta shit-talk your last girl

Sayin' she don't compare to me (yeah)

Baby, I ain't sayin' you don't know me well, it's

Just not the shit I need

As the dancers have finished going down the aisles, they move around your car, dancing to the beat. You stand on top of the orange sports car. The 2 dancers are now with the others.

'Cause they're just words, they don't mean much

(They don't mean much, no, no)

Need a little less talk

And a lot more touch

The lights flash as the chorus starts. You dance along with the backup dancers. Your in-ears are telling you about the upcoming chorus.

I just want your two hands on me at all times, baby

If you let go (I want your two hands)

Better put 'em right back, fast

Want your two hands on me like my life needs savin'

Let 'em all know (I want your two hands)

Can you do it like that? Yeah

Dancers help you out of the car, one holding your microphone while the other helps you jump out, holding your waist. The camera moves with you, and you stare at it; you move towards the aisle. Stopping to sing.

You ain't gonna win with the jewelry

Don't need the cute fuckin' names (no)

We don't gotta live out of hotels (mm-mm)

We could do it in my room all day

And I know you could spoil me plenty more

But I don't really trust that anymore

And I already got that bag for free (ah)

But if you bought it, then that's sweet (sweet)

Still, they're just things, they don't mean much

(They don't mean much, no, no)

Seen a real good thing

Turn to real fucked up (mm, ah)

The camera pans to a dancer sitting in the audience, in a full racer uniform, helmet and all. He stands up, dancing with you as you sing the chorus. You both move your bodies to the beat, basically circling each other.

I just want your two hands on me at all times, baby

If you let go (I want your two hands)

Better put 'em right back, fast

Want your two hands on me like my life needs savin'

Let 'em all know (I want your two hands)

Can you do it like that? Yeah

The dancer moves towards the stage where you once stood. The camera stays on you, dancing with energy and focus. Lights flash around you. You start to move back towards the stage.

'Cause I want 'em all to see

You look good on top of me

At this time at night, I need

Not one, not three (yeah)

Just your two hands on me like my life needs savin'

Let 'em all know (I want your two hands)

Can you do it like that? Yeah

 You stand back on the car, and dancers surround the car in a circle, dancing around you. For the dance break, you don’t sing much, focusing on the dance.

I want your two hands (mm, whoa)

Don't ever let me go

I want your two hands

Two hands on me (oh)

I want your two hands

(Don't let me go) don't ever let me go

(I want your two hands) I want your two hands

(Better put 'em right back) two hands on me

You sit back down in the car, singing the end of the song. Dancing while sitting down, dancers still dancing around you. 

I just want your two hands on me at all times, baby

If you let go (I want your two hands)

Better put 'em right back, fast (oh-oh)

Want your two hands on me like my life needs savin'

Let 'em all know (I want your two hands)

Can you do it like that? Yeah (like that, like that)

'Cause I want 'em all to see (yeah)

You look good on top of me

At this time at night, I need

Not one, not three

Just your two hands on me like my life needs savin'

Let 'em all know (I want your two hands)

Can you do it like that? Yeah (alright)

The lights go dark, the audience cheers, barely audible over your in-ears. You breathe heavy. After you catch your breath, you push yourself off the car walking backstage. You place the microphone down on the table, and someone helps you unclip your mic pack. 

You walk into your dressing room. Shrugging off your leather jacket. Sweat covering every part of your body. You change into a pair of dark blue sweatpants, a white tank top, and a dark grey zip-up. You grab your phone, your bag. 

Before you leave, you spot Jimmy walking towards you. “Wow, just wow! That was amazing.”

“Thank you! It was amazing to be on the show!”

You both say your thanks. Then, you and your manager make your way towards the stage door. Outside, fans wait. When you open the door, a few cameras flash from a few paparazzi. You smile, waving at the fans. You walk towards the gathering of people, fans stick out their hands, shirts, markers, anything you could sign. You slowly make your way down the line, signing things and taking photos with others. Your manager slowly pushes you along. Motioning towards the SUV waiting to take you back to your hotel room. 

“I hope you all enjoyed the show!!” You yell out. Your fans cheer as you walk towards the SUV. waving one more time at the fans.  You take a deep exhale once entering the car. Resting your head on the headrest. 

@Boweynotdavid

2 hands- Bowey

Liked by @Victor1a_J and 1,239,483 others

Thank you so much, New York!! 

View comments….

@meretmanon: I'll put 2 hands on you bb 

–@Boweynotdavid: PLEASEEE 🙏

–@User1: I WANNA START A RUMORR

@radvxz: Can you come to England soon

-@Boweynotdavid: Soon bea soon

@Bowey.news: Loved the performance!

@Reneerapp: mommy

==================================================

@Victor1a_J

Dear god- Bowey

Best day of my life. 

Liked by @Bowey.news and 75 others

View comments…

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We all have weird hobbies, right? Jack finds out about what you’re doing outside of work

menace!jack x menace!resident!reader | prev ⋆ masterlist ⋆ next

"Jesus fucking Christ," you hiss as you snap the curtain close. "Talk about indecent exposure, gonna give Robby a heart attack flaunting those around."

Jack is stunned into silence, his muscles contracting as your voice processes through the leftover adrenaline coursing through his body. He's contorted awkwardly, trying to clean a wound on his back that he clearly can't reach.

pairing: dennis whitaker x fem!reader

wc: 6k

synopsis: everyone is settling into what happened and only they have the whole picture, all the pieces. what of you, who has to solve the puzzle all while processing the present?

cw/s: mentions of injuries, care of injuries, altered mental state, unstable mood, descriptions of hunger, potential medical inaccuracies.

a/n: set during the same month as s2 (july), just not the same day (july 4th). some plot points and history between characters will be elusive, but that's intentional as it will be clarified as the fic progresses and thus will be slow burn. hence the name, All Over Again. no use of y/n, y/l/n, y/n/n, or anything of the sorts and absolutely zero use of ai to write/edit. searching the pitt set floorplan is recommended if you'd like (extremely helpful with visualizing paths characters take and the layout of the rooms). thank you. indulge.

One hour in the Pitt goes by in one second with how quickly everything changes, but in the meantime you were in your own little space, tucked away—measuring how long had gone solely with the help of the ice packs, watching them lose shape. What had you done during that time that simultaneously felt like forever and not long enough? Stared at your phone as it remained in the bag at the foot of the bed. When would there ever be a good time to open that can of worms? It felt like the answer was now or never, but who were you to set that time limit?

“Fuck this.” you moved to stand up, very slowly. You wanted to go to the bathroom, splash your face with some water and do literally anything else but sit in this room alone with your thoughts. Non-slip socks carried the maneuver, thankfully. You were decently confident that had you not been wearing them just now, you would’ve slipped as you hunched over awkwardly, your body informing you of aches in places you hadn’t discovered yet. Standing upright, you groaned as yet another ache made itself known and suddenly you were grateful for your lonesome. Had anybody heard you, you’d be bed ridden all over again. It was unnecessary, your legs were fine. You weren’t broken.

Eyeing both doors, you attempted to be prudential in deciding which was better. It didn’t take long for you to choose the right side door. Your reasoning? Everyone and their mother used the left one, so you chose the opposite in an attempt to avoid everyone–attempt, that was the key word there. You quickly realized things weren’t going to happen as planned because the second your face appeared in the window of the door, someone was coming over. You backed away, not knowing what else to do.

The nurse, whose name tag displayed the name Perlah Alawi, opened the door and looked at you with a stoic expression. If unimpressed was a person, it was her. You smiled, feigning innocence.

“What are you doing?”

“Just…working my joints, moving the grease.” you moved your knees awkwardly as visual aid, which you quickly regretted.

“Yeah? And where exactly were you planning on going to do that?”

“The bathroom.” you admitted it as if you were in trouble.

Her expression softened. “You could’ve asked for help, you know. That’s what we’re here for.” Perlah made her way towards you, arms open and hovering in the event you waver. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“I know I can ask for help, I just…don’t think I need it.” you muttered as she guided you.

“That might be true, but I don’t think you still know where the bathroom is and these hallways can get crowded real fast.”

“But I see the bathroom right there, hard to miss.”

“You’re not going to that one.”

“Why?”

“Patient with C. Diff was in there a minute ago. Got a lot of decontamination to do before it can be used again.”

Opting to not respond, you simply followed her lead. You weren’t going to argue with that. You took advantage of the opportunity to look around as you walked, allowing yourself to really see the place. You worked here, saved lives here. And even though you didn’t really recognize your surroundings, it just made sense that this is where you had ended up.

“Hey, uh, Perlah?”

Perlah took you through double doors before glancing back.

“Can you… give me a general rundown of everything as we go? Just so I…I don’t know.” you second guessed your request.

“Yeah, sure. Right there,” she gestured forward, “is the hub. Patients' names, ages, nurses, and physicians are all displayed on the trackboard. It's also the home of charting stations. Then as we pass through here, we see more rooms. Numbers are right there.” She pointed to the wall of rooms, stating they start at 15 and go all the way up to 20. You expected to go that way, but you didn’t. Perlah gently redirected you to go into the tiny hallway that separated rooms 21 and 22 from T1 as there was nobody there and it was a clear shot to the restrooms. This, you were grateful for because you were increasingly aware of everyone's eyes zeroing in you, even if for a split second.

“Uh, Dennis?” Victoria looked past him and to you and Perlah before you disappeared behind rooms 21 and 22.

“Yeah?”

“She just went that way, with Perlah.”

“What? Where?”

Victoria walked away from 15 and towards the hallway you went into, Dennis following without being instructed to do so. When he met her side, he relaxed a bit.

“They’re just going to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure? She-”

Victoria didn’t even get to finish describing how you looked paler before you stumbled backwards, thankfully in proximity to the walls that framed the restrooms. Both her and Dennis quickly made their way over.

“Hey, you alright?” Perlah's hands steadied you from your shoulders as you rested your back against the wall.

“Yeah, I…” you mumbled, distracted by the specks of black and blue that filled your vision.

“What’s wrong with her?” Victoria spoke up as she closed in. Perlah looked back, confused and concerned. Dennis didn’t even waste time assessing you with his eyes, ripping his stethoscope from behind his neck so he could listen to your heart, your breathing.

Both Perlah and Victoria stared at him, waiting for him to say anything.

“Bit tachy.” he informed, removing his stethoscope and shoving it in his pocket, directing all of his focus to your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I-” you breathed shakily. “I’m okay. I-I think I just stood up too fast.”

“No way, we made it all the way here from nine. This would’ve happened sooner.” Perlah thought aloud.

“What’s up?” Robby’s voice called from behind as he approached with a quickened pace.

“What were her lab results?” Dennis glanced away from you for a moment.

“Everything was fine, normal. Hey, you feeling alright, kid?”

“I’m fine.” you grit, brushing past everyone and entering the rest room. You felt red hot anger at what just happened. You fully thought you could manage at least walking to the bathroom, but clearly not. You felt panicked and your feelings only intensified as you made it to the mirror–hair a mess with a rich rosy hue to the skin that peeked out from beneath the dressing on your hairline, raised slightly by the bump that formed. On top of that you were in a baggy hospital gown. You felt small and pathetic and out of control. You were comfortable caring for others, helping them out in the most vulnerable of times–you knew that much from what you remembered of your experience as a med student–but when it was you who was vulnerable and in need of help? You didn’t like it, not one bit.

Your eyes stung with a pain so sharp that someone could tell you there were shards of glass in them and you wouldn’t have questioned it.

“Can I come in?” Perlah’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Please just go. I’m sure you’ve all got patients who need you. I am fine, I promise. I just…need a minute.” Your voice became thick near the end, a sob climbing up your throat at an agonizingly slow pace, as if mocking you.

“Alright, we’ll go, but we aren’t going to be too far. Just holler if you need something.” was the last thing you heard before you were left with the odd sounds your chest made as you worked to keep a lid on your emotions. It hurt your entire torso to suppress the cry, but you didn’t care. Fumbling for the sink, you leaned forward, the new angle earning a sharp hiss from you as cold water coated your hands.

“Fuck-” was all you managed, voice cracking. Everything just needed to shut up and stop for five seconds, that was all you needed. You pleaded with yourself to just stop, but the sounds of the pleas in your head only caused more pressure in your skull, forcing you to cry to relieve some of it. You didn’t want to face any of this, not now, yet it all came crashing in on you like an ocean tide coming to lap up all the uncleanly debris that settled at the shore. You drenched your face with water, subconsciously choosing to go with the imagery that filled your thoughts–the ocean, cool and kind to you as it took every tear you shed with it, a metaphorical tissue.

“Okay…okay…” your lip quivered as you looked up at your reflection in the mirror. Staring at yourself, you ease into accepting the fact that all of this has happened to you, that it is currently happening to you, and that you would remember it happening to you. How sadly ironic was it that you forgot everything you craved to know and remembered everything you craved to forget? You laughed humorlessly at the thought, your chest aching yet again but you didn’t pay mind to it. Sniffling, you stood upright and reached for the paper towel dispenser, taking more than needed and dabbing your skin dry.

As you did this, the bathroom door flew open, a woman entering and coming to a halt at the sight of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, you’re okay.” you looked to her badge through her reflection in the mirror, a desperate attempt to know her before she knew you.

She saw you looking. “It says Samira.”

“Thanks.” you offered a weak smile. “Well, Samira, I don’t own the bathroom. If you need to pee, pee-”

Her face contorted to hide her reaction.

“What?”

She looked down, shaking her head to avoid the question.

“Pee pee?” you giggled and she smiled.

“It’s so dumb, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s funny and I need to laugh right now.” you turned around, looking at her yourself now instead of through the mirror. “Does everyone know?”

“Know what?”

“About my accident.”

She nodded. “Uh, yeah. But don’t be embarrassed, it’s because we care.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. Including me.” She smiled at you, warm and radiant–sincere. “I know you probably don’t feel comfortable with me right now, but you can talk to me, if you need. That’s all, I won’t push or pry. I know you hate that.”

“Actually, I am immediately comfortable with you.”

“That’s how I felt when I first met you.”

“Really? That’s nice to hear.”

She stared at you, smiling unnaturally wide now. “I hate to break up a cute moment but I just got a second to myself and-”

“Do what you gotta do, no hard feelings. Go pee pee.”

“God, we’re children. Some traits prevail injury.” Samira went for the closest stall.

“Agreed. So, from one child to another, can you take me back to nine when you’re done here? I don’t think I could handle the walk of shame by myself.”

“Absolutely, I have a patient in one I need to get back to so we’re going to the north wing anyways.”

You turned the faucet on for background noise so she could pee. You would want her to do the same for you. “Don’t tell the others, but you’re quickly becoming my favorite.” You add, a truth yet also a way to fight any awkwardness.

She was silent for a minute before coming out and stepping beside you to wash her hands. “Don’t worry, the secret is between us and us alone.”

You looked at her through the mirror and she practically read your mind.

“What do you want to know?” Again, she looked so sincere. Without a single drop of pity.

“How am I? To work with, I mean.”

She shook her hands and reached past you to grab a couple paper towels. “Honestly? A cakewalk. You’re very smart, quick. You know, Doctor Robby says we make a good duo because you bring the speed.” She threw the paper towels in the trash, turning to face you.

“Guess I bring too much sometimes, ‘cause it got me in a car accident.” you attempted to joke about everything but judging by the look on Samira’s face, it didn’t quite land. “Okay, sorry. Not funny.”

“It’s not not funny, but it feels too…soon.” She looked at your gown as she said it.

You glanced down at yourself. “What? This number? I think it suits me.”

“Uh-huh, I’d have to disagree. I think scrubs and a badge suit you better, but maybe that’s just me.”

“I hope to be back in them soon enough, Doctor Mohan.”

“We share the same motivations,” she said, giving you the same title paired with your last name. It felt good. To be reminded of what you had to look forward to once all this blows over. That even as a patient, you were still a doctor. It gave you a boost of confidence as you met her side at the door. Samira gave you a look, eyes asking if you were ready, and you nodded.

“Alright, cakewalk. Not walk of shame.” She stated the affirmation, opening the door and leading you out. You quickly noticed that she didn’t hover like the others did–she stayed near, of course, but she didn’t cradle you. You appreciated that deeply.

The two of you walked through the Pitt with your heads held high, reminding yourselves you had a place here, the idea feeling threatened by different reasons but ultimately a worry you shared.

Samira leaned her head in, keeping her gaze forward as she spoke softly–just for the two of you to hear. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She didn’t need to get specific.

“Thank you.” you offered her a small smile as she opened the left side door of your room, entering behind you.

“I mean it, me being your favorite stays between us.” she joked, attempting to raise the spirits. “You all good in here?”

You nodded and she gave you a small smile of acknowledgement before leaving through the right door, a shortcut to where she needed to be.

God forbid you know what you want because now you don't want to be alone at all. Your phone was practically screaming at you and you knew it was a matter of time before you gave in.

Robby walked into the break room, fully intent on getting at least a sip or two of coffee before he went back out. When he entered, he was met with the sight of Dennis sitting, his head resting on his arms on the table. He approached with caution, pulling out a chair and sitting.

“How are we feeling?”

Dennis sat up, eyes not only tired as per usual, but reddened. “Fine.”

“You don’t necessarily look it.”

“Thanks.” he sighed, staring off into space.

“Do you…want to talk?”

“I-I gotta get back out there.” Dennis stood, stretching.

Robby ran his hands over his head, taking off his glasses. “You can’t be there for someone if you aren’t there for yourself first. Trust me, I’ve tried to do the same. Just doesn’t work out.”

“I can’t really be there for her at all, because she doesn’t remember me.” Dennis’ tone was slightly restrained. He was a very polite man, but that was beginning to waver as the stress piled up, and it gained about a thousand pounds when he heard you crying in the bathroom. He lingered when the others left—he knew he shouldn’t have, that it was a private moment, but he felt helpless and it killed him knowing you did too. When he saw Samira approaching, he forced himself to get back to work. You and her would inevitably talk, he knew that much, but he wished he could help too. It killed him knowing he couldn’t comfort you through things like he usually did. He is one of the very few people you actually let yourself be vulnerable around and you didn’t know you had him. But you did. You absolutely, unwaveringly did.

“You can be there for her, you just have to reel it in. Be friendly.”

“I think I’m done with this conversation. We’re busy today, as always.” Dennis left with a rigid demeanor. He looked forward, seeing your room. He mentally chastised himself, telling himself he needed to get it together as he walked away. He looked around for Trinity, hoping that she wasn’t too far. Even though his legs felt like overcooked spaghetti noodles as he walked, he wouldn’t let that stop him. He needed a friend right now. And thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find her focused on one of the workstation computer carts. He had been standing behind her for a solid ten seconds before she paid him any mind.

“Trying to glue yourself to my hip or do you need something?”

“Sorry.” he backed up. “I just feel very off, like everything is wrong and-”

Trinity stopped hearing what he was saying the second she turned around to look at him and was met with his pathetically sad expression.

“What happened?” she interjected. “Besides the obvious.”

“She nearly fainted like ten minutes ago when Perlah took her to the bathroom. Heart rate was slightly tachy. She was upset, probably from everyone, myself included, looking at her like she’s a lamb off to slaughter or something. I…” he stopped himself, blinking rapidly. “I heard her cry, and when I tell you I have never had to practice the art of restraint so hard in my entire life-” he let out a weak laugh.

“I’m sorry.” Trinity’s voice had rarely ever been that genuine with him, usually always upholding indifference and sarcasm.

“It’s not about me, it’s about her. I hate knowing she has to sleep here, alone. I honestly might try and sleep-”

“You are not sleeping here again. That helps nobody.”

Dennis’ brows etched together at her words, pleading.

“I think if you really want to help her to the best of your abilities, you’ll go home when your shift ends and tidy things up. That way, she’ll have less things to stress about when she gets home.”

“Yeah, okay, and what then? What am I supposed to do?”

“Jesus, Huckleberry, cool it. I don’t know if you forgot, but the only car the two of you had got… towed.” She went to say ‘crashed’, but quickly realized that was too insensitive. “You’ve really got one option and luckily for you it’s an awesome one.” When Dennis looked confused, Trinity lazily rolled her eyes. “I’m your ride, duh, so when I take you back to yours tonight, I’ll come in with you and help you clean and pack for a couple of nights at my place. Or longer, I don’t know…not that that helps, shut up Trinity.” she palmed her eyes. “When it’s time for her to go home, we’ll carpool. And during the awkward stage, you’ll stay with me. Like old times. Simple.”

Dennis scoffed. “Simple? Trinity, we live together. It’d take days to remove me from the apartment.”

“Who knows? We might have days.”

“I hope we don’t. If we did, that’d mean she needs to be here.”

“We’ll figure it out as we go, but I think we have a good start. You got both a ride to and from work and a place to stay, and when she leaves, she’ll have the same.” She looked at him, voice genuine again. “And who said you had to remove yourself from the apartment? There’s no rulebook to this. And who are we to try to add and remove details, people, from her life? I think that’s up to her, once she finds out.”

His heart nearly lurched out of his chest at the thought of you breaking things off. He had already planned on giving you space and time to process and do what you needed to do, he just hadn’t had the guts to humor the idea that this accident would mark the end of your time together.

“Dennis, she loves you. Like, a lot. It almost makes me sick sometimes and…jealous.” Trinity thought of Yolanda for a split second, making an annoyed face. “I can’t guarantee you anything, but I really do not see a world where she doesn’t at least want you around as a friend. I can attest to you being a really good, reliable person. It would be a big loss.”

Dennis wet his lips. “Yeah, well, she is a really good, reliable person too. She’d be a big loss. Having her as a friend was amazing but I can’t not love her, especially not after knowing what it’s like to be able to do so.”

“Yuck. You’re so sweet you’re gonna give me a toothache, cut it out.” When she saw the look on his face somehow get sadder, she knew she had to try comforting in a different way. It didn’t come easily to her. “We’ll figure it out as we go. You’re not alone in this, Huckleberry.” Trinity gave him a fist bump before parting ways. Everything felt so heavy.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you reached forward to grab your phone and get it over with…but you were interrupted by a knock. Whether to be grateful or pissed off, you weren’t sure. Somehow you felt both anyway.

“Hey.” Trinity walked in, two paper cups in hand. “About time you get more meds.” she casually strolled over, handing you the cups.

“Thanks.” you sounded so melancholy against your greatest attempts to sound otherwise.

She crossed her arms. “How's your head feeling?”

“It’s feeling confused by every doctor this hospital has to offer making their rounds in my room despite how incredibly busy it is. How do you all manage the time?”

“Don’t be like that.”

You laughed, bitter. “Like what?”

“You know what. People who care for you are going to check in, there’s nothing profound or offensive about that.”

Rolling your eyes, you took the Tylenol. You had begun to ache more and more as the hours went on, especially after what you deemed as your little pity party in the bathroom. Your body was grateful despite your emotions detailing otherwise.

“I hate feeling like everyone is hovering over me. I’m just like any other patient here, only I am less critical, so I should really only be seeing one doctor and one nurse every so often, not every other doctor and nurse every other hour.”

Trinity held her tongue. It was plain as day that you were dealing with rapid mood changes, she wasn’t going to be the one to add fuel to the fire. Not today.

“You want me to write ‘do not disturb’ on a piece of printer paper and tape it to both doors?”

“Actually, that doesn’t sound too-”

“I was joking, obviously. I said it once and I will say it again; people who care for you are going to check in. Sorry we care, but we do. Besides, the day shift is gonna be swapping out with the night shift here in a couple hours so you’ll get fresh faces.”

“I don’t know if I can handle more faces today. Everyone looks at me like I’m a wilting flower, it pisses me off. I’m injured, clearly, but I am not broken or fragile. Just…my mood.”

Dropping her hands to her sides, she straightened her posture. “When it’s time for you to get the hell out of here, I’m your ride. Just so you know.”

“Oh okay thanks, I loved being offered an option there.” you sighed deeply, learning to ignore the aches. “No, I’m honestly glad. I haven’t even started to think about how I was going to get home, I’ve been so caught up in my head about my memory, or lack thereof.” you looked at her, really looked at her. “Thank you…Trinity.” Her name felt foreign in your mouth, the casual sound as it came out feeling unnatural.

“You’re welcome…” She said your first name in the same cadence, making it a comical moment rather than a depressing one. Glancing over to the foot of your bed, she saw your phone in the bag.

“Don’t ask if I’ve turned it on yet because the answer is no. I am both extremely curious and deathly afraid of what’s on there.” you answered her question before she had the chance to even think about it.

“When the devil on your shoulder takes over and you end up having questions, you can ask me. And if you turn it on and my shift is over, you'll be delighted to see my contact on your phone. You can text me or call me, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you did, only stirring awake as your door opened—revealing a man you hadn’t seen before.

“Hey, this was left at the hub.” He held two grocery bags out to you. Sitting up, you tried to steal a glance at his badge that was nowhere to be seen.

“I didn’t bring these.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “All I know is that it has your name on it, Sleeping Beauty.”

You took one of the bags into your lap with your good hand, plucking off the sticky note off the front. It read ‘Just in case’ followed by your name. Only your name, no other. “And where’s your sticky note?”

“Just got here, give me a break.” he laughed as he put the second bag near the foot of your bed. Pulling his badge from his pocket, he went to put it on while he spoke. “Allow me to reintroduce myself, Jack Abbot—your favorite attending.” he flicked his badge once it was fully on.

“Really?” you quirked a brow; “reintroduce”. You two were familiar.

“Oh yeah. One hundred percent.” he stood tall, looking proud of himself. “You enjoy your little spa, you deserve the break.”

“Spa?”

He swirled a finger in the direction of the bag, gesturing you look inside as he backed out of the room.

Untying the bag, you stole a look inside. Multiple products—skincare, oral hygiene—all labeled in accordance of order. You had zero clue who this could be from, there was no indication of anyone in particular and you didn’t recognize the handwriting. You leaned forward carefully, grabbing the second bag which you quickly realized held comfortable clothes and a pair of slippers.

“Hm.” you hummed, pleasantly surprised. You were more than happy to ditch the gown for clothes that made you feel like a normal person instead of someone who looked like they needed help. That’s all a hospital gown was when it was on you, a call for help.

Standing, you closed the curtains around your bed and immediately went into taking off the gown. It hurt, but you weren’t going to ask for assistance so you persevered for the sake of future comfort. Pulling the clothes out of the bag, you unfolded an oversized black t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. Slowly, you worked yourself into them, ignoring the bruising that bloomed before slipping your feet into the slippers, grabbing the other bag.

For some reason, you had more comfort in leaving your room now than you did earlier–whether the clothes or Jack who was charismatic was to thank, you honestly couldn’t tell. But here you were, walking through the right side door with zero fucks if someone stopped you to talk. Maybe a nap was exactly what you needed to get a sense of stability.

“Hey, Sleepy.”

You looked to your right to see a woman heading your way from room five. The closer she got, the more legible her badge got–Parker Ellis. You didn’t consider the possibility that you could be familiar with the nightshift, not really. It didn’t occur to you that they would know you much at all beyond face and name, but here you were. Either that or she was very laid back with how she spoke to people.

“How was your nap?”

“Uh, good. I actually feel a bit better. Did you…did you just call me Sleepy? Like…from Snow White?”

“Absolutely. You hungry? Eat at all since you got here?” Parker asked, quirking a brow.

Alright then. Disney references were night shifts thing, apparently.

“No. No, I haven’t eaten. Unless you want to count Tylenol.” you were suddenly acutely aware of the grumble in your stomach. Better that than feeling anxious over holding a conversation with someone who knew you when you didn’t remember them. You were getting used to this, slowly but surely. Turns out patience is better when it’s organic.

She pulled a Kit-Kat from her pocket, tossing it to you.

“Thanks.”

“Keep you alive until someone can snag you a sandwich. Just gave the last one to my patient; a seven-year-old boy with a broken elbow. Bad skateboard fall.”

“Ouch.” you grimaced for him. “Speaking of patients, has the bathroom been decontaminated since...?” you trailed off.

“Yeah, been done.”

“Okay, good to know.” You shook your hand as a gesture to the Kit-Kat you held, putting it in your pocket. “Thanks again for this.”

“You’re welcome. Not like I get much down time to eat it anyways. Practically melted whenever I get the chance.” she glanced at you. “Not that it influenced my decision. Controversial opinion, I like ‘em melted. If you do too, you got about another ten minutes with it in your pocket before it’s good to go. I got the timeline down to a science.”

“I’ll make sure to repay you with a pocketed Kit-Kat someday.” you offered a friendly smile, slowly beginning to close the distance between you and the bathroom.

“Looking forward to it. Go do what you gotta do, girl.” Parker gave you a loose salute before walking off.

Night shift seemed a bit smoother around the edges. You liked that.

The moment you took off your wrist brace and began using the skincare products in the bag, you were grateful for the sticky notes. A couple of the products were familiar, things you’d have a hard time recalling not using than anything else, but the rest were new to you. You felt a weird draw towards not throwing away the sticky notes, and so you stuck them together and put them in your pocket as you went through the motions. When you finished, you looked directly at yourself in the mirror—really looking at yourself—the remnants of the makeup you wore earlier completely gone. But it didn’t make you feel anything other than content and calm. Even if the greater half of the routine was new to you, it felt regulating. Drying your hands, you grabbed the bag and made your way back to your room. This time, shockingly, nobody noticed you. The hallway was majority patients at this point, you were buried.

“Okay.” you sighed to yourself as you sat back down on your bed, grabbing the little bottle of lotion from the bag—one that didn’t have a sticky note—and gently worked it into your hands. It was mainly your good hand that did all the work, moving your injured one hurt more than you anticipated. The brace had helped a lot, more than you noticed initially. The scent of the lotion began to trickle its way up to your nose and it smelled…familiar. It smelled very sterile yet earthy at the same time. Then, as if the scent projected a ghost of the scene, you saw it, smelled it, and could practically feel it–Dennis’ skin against yours as he checked for any signs of a fever. Your eyes darted to your phone, the urge to just get it over with becoming increasingly stronger.

“Jesus, just do it.” You hyped yourself up, grabbing it. Powering it on gave you a different kind of adrenaline rush, one you liked and hated. It made you feel alive yet nauseous. Your hands began to buzz with anticipation as you were met with your lock screen–it made sense given your interests, so that was good. Something else you were familiar with, that you knew about. You swiped, readying yourself to put in the password–which, if you were smart enough to not have changed it in the past year for absolutely zero reason, would still be what you remember it always being. You pressed the numbers, and you were in. The homescreen is where things began to feel unfamiliar. It was a collage of you and people you met today but knew before, in scrubs, in the Pitt. Trinity, Robby, Dennis, Samira, and even Jack and Parker were amongst the sea of colleagues. You focused on the unfamiliar faces, making a mental note to figure out who they were. Then, your fingers took you to text messages. Pinned at the top? “Disco Dennis” followed by a stethoscope emoji. You spoke to him and some others today, you didn’t think about the possibility he was your best friend. If anyone was to be pinned from those you met today, you figured it would’ve been Trinity. Apparently not.

Despite the nauseating anxiety that pleaded for you to not click into the messages, you did.

The most recent one was from this morning: Text me when you’re on your way, love you:)

Love you? You clicked into the contact info, seeing the contact photo close up. It was of you and Dennis in the hub, remaking the iconic scene of Jack and Rose from Titanic, only Dennis was Rose and you were Jack. You looked really happy, mid-laugh while Dennis was fighting for his life to not join you. Everything felt like it moved at a sluggish pace after that, your hands reluctantly scrolling through the messages. More words of affection, terms of endearment…you telling him to not forget to lock the door again…

You could feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest, hear it in your head. You breathed shakily, going to your camera roll. It all crashed into you at once, photos of you working from just yesterday, of you and Trinity and a woman you clearly didn’t remember posing in front of a bar on July 7th with Dennis taking the photo caught in the reflection of the windows, of you kissing Dennis on his cheek as you both held up your doctors badges on July 4th, and you only got overwhelmed with more memories as you swiped. You were not ready for this, that was incredibly apparent to you now.

“What the fuck…” you spoke in a quiet rasp. You not only forgot that you’re a doctor and you worked here, that you had become close friends with those you worked amongst, but also that you had a boyfriend who was a doctor as well, that you worked with. Oh, and he lived with you. That is just amazing, and totally fine. You totally did not nearly puke in the slightest. Not that you’d have much to offer anyways.

Tossing your phone to the foot of the bed, you fished the Kit-Kat from your pocket and fought with the wrapper. Difficult as usual, but even more so due to the lotion on your hands. You were suddenly entirely aware of the scent all over again. His scent. His skin on your skin.

He didn’t do that out of poor judgement, he did it out of instinctual habit.

You felt faint and that only got worse as the pit in your stomach deepened with realization. You blinked and you were opening the door to the left. “I need help with this, please.”

A man you of course didn’t recognize made his way over to you, an amused look on his face.

“You and Ellis with these damn Kit-Kats.” John Shen, you caught. “You can ditch this and I can DoorDash you something of sustenance. Coffee, maybe?”

“Please just open the fucking Kit-Kat.”

“Woah, wait. Are you alright?” John’s hand reached forward, ready to steady you should he need to.

“No, I am starving.” you partially told the truth.

There it was again, the pins and needles feeling as dots filled your vision.

“Abbot!-” you heard John’s voice raise, immensely concerned. That was the last thing you heard.