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@pittbangs
WE'RE HEALERS, NOT JUDGES / #PITTBANGS. an independent dr. cassandra " cassie " mckay from hbo's the pitt.
prose-heavy, multi-verse, multi-ship, panfandom, & oc-friendly. written by bucku, 30+. engages with writers 21+ only. under co. rules under the cut.
affiliated with: @s4nsfrontieres / memes. / also found @picksmusic
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cassie mckay gives off the vibe of someone who has never sat normally in a chair for her entire life
"Want a hug?" "...God, no."
Dr. Cassie McKay, sketches and portraits.
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there's something comforting in mccay's reaction. it's why she'd gone to her. perhaps a manipulative choice but trinity reached for lifelines where she could get them in situations like this. mccay's a mother, a fierce advocate for women, someone who has seen what power does to the people who abuse it and the people that get spit out along the way. she'd been the obvious choice. and trinity doesn't regret that decision when her colleague presses forward with interest instead of dismissal.
"Her name's Rachel Connors. She's eight. Frequent UTIs. The history's there. Dad keeps saying it's genetic. His mom and sister had similar problems. He even has the records. But it feels weird. Like they're afraid of something. I don't know if they're--I asked if she said siblings but they said she's an only child. I want to ask her if she's got cousins or anyone she sees regularly but the parents are so cagey I think it'll spook them into leaving." Trinity's stomach feels sick already, and her posture is uneasy as she blurts out her analysis, trying to focus on letting it come out clinical and not letting the emotion pour out from the back of her teeth somewhere. "The vibe's weird, Cassie. I know that's not much to go on. It's really just... my gut. But I can just tell."
" your gut got your attention for a reason. " every fine hair loosed from the sweep of cassie's ponytail is at end on the nape of her neck. that acerbic churn in her own stomach toils at the notion of anything untoward ...
an inherent protectiveness riles itself for the patient, for santos.
but facts & medical decision making own the priority for sussing out any rationale behind them. for all that santos is sensing something is off here, there are a number of potential sources deserving of social work's discernment.
" i trust your instincts. " mckay drops a nod, the press of her lips grim, solemn. she looks santos in the eye, a steadiness there that enforces the weight of the statement.
she's been in these shoes, tending to a niggling discomfort that doesn't yet have a root cause. almost always, it proves out some unforseen conclusion.
so, she has santos' back. the patient's back, too.
" let's go talk to the family, see if i we can figure out if anything else might be going on at home. anyone else living there except mom or dad? extended family? babysitter or nanny? "
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@pittbroke from here.
doctor mckay lands like a shallow, glancing blow. deflection is a fine sport for some & she's practiced at playing at it just as well as he is. she meets that parry head on. mild smile complacent across her features, defiantly holding the barrier between professionalism & whatever it is that defines their relationship, she looks at him straight in the eyes.
" well, that was a transparent dodge. "
cassie lets the comment steep. she tucks an arm over the other, crossing them over her chest. the appraising glance set upon him is one that speaks for itself.
mckay doesn't have to call bullshit to call bullshit.
" i'm gonna let you hide behind your paperwork, but yeah. MDM documented on all of my cases awaiting your attestation. " she tips her chin up at the track board, where her patients are shaded either ready for discharge or ready for admit, boarding while they wait for beds upstairs.
quietly, hedging a step closer, she sways a cinnabar swish of her head, flyaways slipping to brush her cheeks free of the ponytail raked away from her shoulders. " robby. you don't have to keep this kind of thing bottled up. " the not from me sits, unsaid, between them.
@k0mpsos as avni from here.
" did i say that? " mckay evades the commentary by turning her attention down to her phone to scroll the seemingly endless lists of takeout options.
" ah, " her thumb stalls on a reliable favorite & she turns the screen toward avni. a local thai restaurant saved under recent ( & alright ... frequent ... orders ) showcases a good set of shareables. " pad see ew, chicken satay, & some spring rolls or crab rangoon to split? "
it's ... nice. to be included, to have a support system for the hours after & around shifts when she'd otherwise be alone with her own tangled thoughts. chad's time with harrison is now an even fifty fifty, but there had been what seemed like interminable weeks where she'd been toiling away with the monitor looped around her ankle, chained to either work, home, or meetings with little to break up the monotony.
" i'm sure they're just ... coworkers who get along, " mckay offers with a shuffle of her shoulders. " i try not to make too much of a habit of guessing about other people's personal lives. " a tip of her sparkling water hedges into her next comment, dimple ripening her cheek. " especially when my own is such a shining example. "
@sympatheticdominance from here
" seriously? " mckay's casual self-effacement shocks still across her features before drifting into something half-chagrined, half-defiant. the way her arms loop across one another, bracing back against her chest is instinctive, protesting his decision even as she leans her weight off her left leg.
" it's not that bad. "
the wound's weeping, scrub fabric surrounding it clotting with her own blood. & even in spite of her best brave face, her grandstanding gets interrupted with a heady tilt of the room. vertigo. one hand out to steady herself grapples for a chair back. " okay ... maybe i should sit down. "
"Oh, I'm not keeping score," Mel offers, matter of fact as it is. And it usually is. "I just noticed your cup wasn't in the breakroom like it usually is by now, since you typically leave it in the sink whenever you're done. You've been in and out of the breakroom all morning with the same mug so...I thought I'd ask if you were, um. Doing okay."
Mel pushes the bridge of her glasses up the steady incline of her nasal bone, already wondering if it's too early for those kind of observations and whether or not she and Doctor McKay are close enough for her to be voicing them out loud.
"I don't know about Redbull," She continues, attempting to play off of her instead, ease the blow of an early morning inquisition. "But I've got a can of ZOA in the fridge right now if you don't want to waste money on the vending machine out in the lobby. It's chery limeade. You could say that's my emotional support flavor."
mckay's brows hitch up. she looks back down into the mouth of her coffee cup, the translucent stain of her lips pressed up against the rim. the brew is beginning to do little more than serve as an activity for her hands between charting, no real sanding off the edges of her fatigue so much as contributing to a bitter set of muzzy jitters.
she hadn't considered the change in seasons for her daily routine. but ... the dull throbbing in her temples, the sleepless raw nerves sending red veins through he eyes scattershot ... she's caught out without noticing it herself.
" just one of those weeks where sleep & i aren't exactly on speaking terms. " her hand works across the nape of her neck beneath the swish of her ponytail.
it's been a rough series of nights. after roxie, with chad & chloe & putting on a brave face for harrison.
cassie's smile flexes, thin, but grateful. " i might take you up on that. you know, i'm usually a little better at keeping it together. " by rote, she swigs a mouthful of the stale coffee, & it wrenches her features into a grimace. " okay. you win. this is awful. i need a change of pace, stat. "
#arms
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@topshelfperverts as mel said: " are you okay? that's your third cup before 11 am. " the pitt: season 1 [1/3].
mild smile masked across her features, mckay looks down at the cup tucked up against her chest. its rainbow swirl squiggles along the dark roast ; it emanates the charred, acrid scent of coffee spent too long at the bottom of the pot.
but it's hot, piping into the crosshatch of lines weaving across her palm. & fate willing, it'll keep her awake.
still, the unmistakeable, involuntary pressure building up along her jawline stretches into a yawn just as cassie stifles her knuckles into it, scrubbing the bridge of her nose. fleeting bashfulness tugging her lips, she throws both shoulders in a resigned acceptance of what the day has to offer.
" this one's mostly emotional support. "
" but i was kinda hoping no one was keeping score. think this'll carry me through to lunch or should i pop some red bull in a banana bag & stick a line in my antecubital? "
' you sound like my mom . ' who is , at the moment , currently tending to an actual patient , unaware her daughter just bonked her head . she squints against the light in her eyes , making a small noise of protest . ' just don't tell her i did that , okay ? she'll get mad at me for running in the halls again . ' but at least she wasn't skateboarding indoors this time ! it's just so boring to hang around here , max isn't sure why her mom keeps insisting on bringing her . ' hey , is harrison here today ? i learned how to do a kickflip , i wanted to show him . '
" i promise i'm only borrowing the job for the next sixty seconds. " mckay peers in, cataloguing the flection of max's pupils as the light swivels away, then back again. satisfied with the response, cassie touches a ginger thumb to turn her at her chin to study the soft divots of her temples for any purpling symptoms of edema. " your secret is safe with me ... "
" ... so long as you make sure to wear a helmet next time & take it easy around hospital hardware. " mckay packs up the penlight, tucking it back into the open sheath of her pocket. a fond sternness renders itself into the sidelong glance she casts down at the young woman, warring with an affectionate exasperation at the idea of her son tumbling ass over tea kettle off a long board. " & you keep both of harrison's feet on the ground. the last time he & his dad hopped on a skateboard, chad ended up here with a fracture in three places. "
a chevron of consideration digs in between her brows. " & i don't think even i can keep that off your mom's radar. "
@mctrouble said: " you have a mean streak in you, you know that? " the pitt: season 1 [1/3].
cassie acknowledges that comment with a lewd slide of her tongue along trinity's, teeth raking the bee-sting push of her bottom lip. a guttural, pleased sort of chuckle rasps free in the aftermath. she has trinity's hands in hers, fingers twined up & palms up overhead & pushed against the headboard so their wrists are kissing, too. eyebrows lifting into a double arc, smirk plying across her face, she can't stop herself from nosing along the upturned angles of trinity's jawline as it gasps open with a pointed undulation from cassie's hips.
" you seem pretty pleased about it. "
she nips at the flutter of a pulse point, easing forward with a wriggle to press them closer together. the harness bites into the bare flesh of her thighs, pulls taut then slacks with each rolling motion. fast, then slow, intentionally stalling with the strap until she drops her forearm away from their clasped embrace to brace the slope of trinity's back beneath her.
chin poised on the center bridge of her partner's breastbone, sharp blue eyes bright with mischief, dark with interest, look beseechingly until their gazes meet.
" don't worry. " a wiry crookedness catches the corner of her grin, feathers out in creases from her lashes. just before she draws santos in, she tweaks at her exposed nipple. winking, " i won't make you wait that long. "
@vitalphenomena as gabriela said: you don't look fine. the pitt: season 1 [1/3].
" i've looked worse. " the wryness wrenching her rejoinder flinches into an unguarded wince before she can staunch it. red soaks the black fibers of her scrubs, painting the palm of her hand as she quashes it down against the wound in a vain effort to slow the flood of vital fluid from the broken flesh.
chin cast upward, teeth gritting out against the pain, cassie strains not to look down at what's beneath the quickly dampening cloth, pressed flat beneath her hand until she has to confront that this isn't the kind of thing to wait.
" okay ... "
she finally peels back the fabric to reveal a laceration splitting through a constellation of freckles along pale skin, the tatters open & dark with crimson.
" maybe that was a little optimistic. can you hand me that suture kit? "
@getslashed said: i'm good. i'm always good. you know that. the pitt: season 1 [1/3].
cassie's expression stalls to keep the blatancy of the red flag from registering itself on the roadmap of her features.
" i know you always say that, " rolls off her tongue. her hands remain situated in her hoodie's pockets, scrubs discarded & ponytail trading its slimline efficiency for the loose auburn shag dusting her shoulders. her shoulders round, hips canted half toward beezy like an open invitation to continue the conversation.
" that changes, you know where to find me. "
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CASSIE MCKAY || THE PITT, 1.01
i won't let this happen again. good. be kind to yourself, okay?
@vitalphenomena as samira said: on occasion, i have an emotional response to death. the pitt: season 1 [1/3].
" only on occasion? " cassie lets a heavy exhale shove her shoulder blades against the metal bracing of the doorframe, the force of the sigh shuffling the copper strands curtaining her brow. fatigue rings thick circles under each eye. the raw undersides of her lids prick & sear. whether it's because of the loss, or the ponderous hours of the shift getting to her ...
" yeah, " mckay abandons the wry twist of her lips, index finger staunching the place where a tear threatens to stain it. rue runs the timbre of her voice ragged. " we shouldn't lose that, but ... " a craggy chuckle shags free. " it can be rough. "
