𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑒

It was the first day that interns were able to do rotations through the Pitt during the night shift. In the short time that Amara had been there, she was able to observe a lot of things. So many cases were ones that she had spent years learning about from different textbooks. There was one case that she couldn’t quite figure out though: what was going on with you and Dr. Abbot. 

Amara had many different differential diagnoses: 

Divorced

Situationship

Enemies

Telepathically Connected

Siblings

Unfortunately, all of the evidence she had gathered supported each of the options equally, which made every moment more confusing than the last. 

Hour One

Dr. Abbot seemed nice. His whole “Nightcrawlers” speech was a little weird, but overall endearing; especially for the new interns. Amara walked up to him directly after he was done speaking to everyone and most people had shuffled away. 

“Hi Dr. Abbot, it’s my first rotation here tonight, I was just wondering who I should stick with?” She asked. 

Dr. Abbot opened his mouth to respond, before you interrupted him. 

“I can’t believe you, you know that?!” You almost yelled, shoving your finger in Dr. Abbot’s chest. 

Amara jumped at the sudden intrusion with wide eyes, watching the scene before her play out. 

He smirked looking down at you as he crossed his arms, “Oh, really?” 

“Yeah! Really!” You say, “You ate my fucking leftovers!” 

“They were in the staff fridge.” 

“You knew they were mine! I put them there!” 

“Seems like a design flaw, princess.” 

You looked one second away from committing an unethical war crime against Dr. Abbot. He seemed entirely unbothered. 

Amara schooled her face as quickly as possible when Dr. Abbot turned back to her to respond as you stormed away with a huff. 

Differential Diagnosis: 

Enemies 

Hour Two

Amara tried to stay out of your way after the first interaction she saw you have with Dr. Abbot. But, the ER was a small place, and it wouldn’t do well to try and avoid you for too long. When a trauma came in from a MVC, she stuck by your side to watch as you ran the entire show. 

Dr. Abbot was there too. Amara was in awe. She had studied for years how different kinds of resuscitations worked. The communication each code required from everyone. She had never seen anything like this. 

When things started to go badly, the room almost went silent. She watched as you and Dr. Abbot both worked on the patient like one cohesive unit. Neither of you needed words to let the other know what you needed, or where you needed them. It was a fluid procedure, flawless. 

Differential Diagnosis: 

Telepathically Linked

Hour Three

A nurse had asked if Amara could go grab something from one of the supply closets. It took her a while to find the right one because she was still finding all of the different ins and outs of the Pitt. 

Finally, she came across the supply room in question. Before her hand could even turn the handle, the door swung open. 

You were there. Cheeks flush, breath heavy, hair tousled. Dr. Abbot was behind you, she saw his neck was pink, and he was in the process of tying his scrub pants. 

“Oh! I- uh…” Amara started, too embarrassed to form a complete sentence. 

You froze. Jack froze. Amara looked mortified. 

Time stood still for one long moment. 

Finally, you cleared your throat, “Did you need something?” 

“Oh! Yes! Uh…the nurse, she uh…” 

You followed her gaze to Jack’s hands, still working on tying his scrubs. You closed your eyes and questioned every moment that had led up to this. You took a deep breath in as you glared at him silently communicating your frustrations. 

“What were you looking for?” You asked, trying to refocus Amara’s attention. 

She looks at you and shakes herself out of her haze. 

“Tape! The tape without the latex…” 

“Third shelf back, second from the top.” Jack says coolly. 

“Okay,” Amara nodded. 

“Okay,” Jack said. 

A pause. 

“Thanks,” she whispered as she grabbed the tape and scurried away.

Differential Diagnosis: 

FWB (Confidence: HIGH) 

Hour Six

Six hours into her shift, Amara finally got to use the restroom. It wasn’t unusual that she would be on her feet all day, but nothing could have prepared her for the absolute chaos that was the PTMC’s emergency department. There wasn’t a moment to spare, and as an intern she kept getting pulled in every direction. 

When she finally had a moment of peace in the restroom, she gathered her thoughts about the day thus far. Everyone seemed great! Crus was a phenomenal teacher, some of the other students were fun to work with, and Lena seemed to be a great heart at the center of it all. 

She still couldn’t work out what the situation was with you and Dr. Abbot though. And that bugged her. She had worked her ass off to get in to med school, she’d be damned if she couldn’t read the room and figure out what the situation was with the two of you by the end of the night. 

On her way back from the restroom, she saw the two of you in an empty patient room. 

“You forgot to pick her up?” Jack asked. 

“I thought you were going to pick her up!” You replied.

“It’s not my weekend! It’s yours!” 

“It’s like every weekend is my weekend! You always pick up shifts or volunteer with the SWAT team. How do you think she feels? Huh?” 

The wheels in Amara’s head turned. She tried piecing the puzzle together, but it felt like every hour brought forth new evidence that contradicted the last! Now it sounded like a custody battle was happening in room 16. First, she saw you nearly rip Dr. Abbot’s head off, then she saw how flawlessly the two of you worked together, which was promptly followed by what seemed to be a quickie in the supply closet, and now you were arguing about who’s weekend it was for some unknown kid? 

Differential Diagnosis: 

Divorced 

Hour Eight

“Hey are you guys still recruiting?” Lena asks from across the nurse’s station. 

You and Jack look up from the chart you’re working on. 

“No, we stopped.” You say disappointed. 

“Decided it was probably best for us to act normal.” Jack says.

You and Jack exchange a look. One that only comes from years of being bonded together. 

Amara’s brows furrow in confusion. What would two doctors be recruiting for? It’s not like they’re the ones who are hiring everyone. There’s managers for that. They couldn’t possibly be part of an MLM, Amara was sure the salary of an attending could let them afford to live comfortably on their own. 

As she tried harder and harder to wrack her brain for any more context about the conversation, it hits her. Recruiting. There was really only one option that explained everything she had seen earlier that morning. 

The arguing. The silent communication that came from years of knowing each other. The secret supply closet meetings. The custody agreements. The recruiting. 

It was so obvious, she wasn’t sure how she didn’t see it all before. 

Differential Diagnosis: 

Cult Leaders

Hour Eleven

The longer the shift drug on, the more Amara was determined to understand what exactly was going on with you and Dr. Abbot. She didn’t think about the fact that running on only four hours of sleep, sheer determination, and at least 300mg of caffeine was the only thing keeping her going right now. That wouldn’t impair her judgement at all. Right? 

She went to grab a granola bar from the breakroom when she saw you and Dr. Abbot in two of the chairs. 

“Jack. Give me my jacket.” 

Jack looked down at the garment, “This isn’t your jacket.” 

“Yes it is. It quite literally has my name on it.” 

“It’s our jacket then” 

“No.” 

“Besides,” Jack starts, “You left it at my house.” 

“More like you stole it from me.” You grumble. 

“I borrowed it.” 

“For eight months? Really?” 

“Semantics…” 

You huffed. 

Amara could practically see the lightbulb that illuminated above her head. Of course! The only way she could possibly believe that either of you could get on each other’s nerves like this, or have access to each other’s houses, or understand each other in the unsettling way it seemed you did, would be to understand that you must be siblings! 

She listened in as you continued to bicker. 

“Jack.” 

“Not happening.” 

“Jack, I swear to god…” 

“Nope.” 

“You are literally fifty years old.” You deadpan. 

“All the more reason I should have the Jacket and not you, you spring chicken.” 

Differential Diagnosis: 

Siblings (DEFINITELY) 

Hour Thirteen

The shift ended more hectic than anyone expected. A massive MVC made sure that all hands were on deck until the morning crew was fully ready to take over. Amara had learned a lot in her first day. She just needed confirmation about one final case before going home. 

“Uh…Lena? I have a question before I leave.” 

Lena looked up from the computer where she was talking to the day shift charge nurse, Dana. 

“What’s up, hun?” Dana automatically responded. 

“Well I uh, I just was curious about two of the doctors.” 

Both nurses' brows furrowed. It was never a good sign when someone started blatantly questioning things on their first day, even if they were ultimately right in the end. 

“Go on,” Lena urged. 

Amara looked down at her notes before making eye contact again, “I just wanted to know about Dr. Abbot and…” She looked over at you and nodded her head in your direction. 

Both Dana and Lena’s eyes tracked toward you. 

“What about them?” Dana said with a knowing smirk hiding just under the surface. 

“They’re siblings right?” Amara asked.

As Lena took a sip of tea, it immediately sprayed over the keyboard as soon as she comprehended what amara was asking. Dana tried, and failed, to hide the big grin on her face. 

The commotion made you look over and walk toward the nurses station. 

“Everything okay? Was there something you needed, Amara?” You asked, “You should go home and get some rest. It’s been a long night.” 

Dana and Lena both laugh as they look between you. 

And in that moment, Amara believed that fate was real. And it had a vendetta against her. Because Jack came up and immediately wrapped his hands around your waist from behind. You instinctively leaned into his touch. He spun you around and pulled you in for a gentle, but knowing kiss. 

Amara’s jaw was on the floor. Dana and Lena couldn’t stop laughing. You looked concerned for everyone. 

“She thinks you guys are siblings!” Lena howled. 

Your eyes widened and cheeks involuntarily turned a shade of pink. 

“I didn’t mean-”

You and Jack both break out in laughter now as well. 

“I was trying to get a read on you all day and I couldn’t figure it out!” She said. 

“Aw, sweetie,” You said kindly, “We’re just married.” 

“Yeah,” Jack interrupted, “For too damn long.” 

You slapped his shoulder. He smiled down at you. 

It all made sense. The fighting, the steamy closet session, the bickering, and silent communication. 

No telepathy. 

No cult. 

No divorce. 

Just…marriage. Everything that happened wasn’t pointing to some differential diagnosis Amara had believed to be true at different points in the day. They all pointed to you and Jack, two peas in a pod who apparently were good at confusing the interns.