gibsongirly

you can’t recall a day where cassie wasn’t in your life, wasn’t around you. from the day you and her crossed paths at a party — your first week of being a freshmen at university, and cassie’s junior year — there was an understanding that you were meant to be in one another’s life.

you were eighteen, easily impressionable, only befriending your roommate from your dorm, and her own friends. the party was exciting, adjusting to a new scene, and you only were thirty minutes in before you could tell she was looking at you.

“who is that?” your roommate, macy, had asked her friends, amber and ellie. “she keeps looking at you.”

you grinned, shrugging, yet exchanged eye contact with the redhead.

your friends took the cue to leave you alone with her, and you inhaled sharply the moment she was in front of you. she approached you first, handing you a red, plastic cup that had obvious fruit punch mixed with various alcohols. “i’m cassie,” she said, and you introduced yourself, visibly flustered. “you look really pretty tonight.”

“thank you! this is my first proper outing,” you admitted, sharing a soft laugh with her. “you look good, as well.”

“what’s your major?” she asked, smiling. “i’m guessing english?”

“absolutely not,” you shook your head, and she chuckled. “i’m doing social work — i want to help people. what are you studying?”

“medicine,” she said, and you sarcastically gasped. “it’s interesting, actually!”

the rest of that night sewed itself into your memory, remembering how cassie walked you back to your dorm, and you think that alcohol had made you so confident, you kissed her and slept with her.

first semester of freshmen year, it was beautiful, and those nights you shared were her were placed into your soul. her eyes would relax looking into yours, your faces only a few inches apart, her fingertips grazing the bottom of your lip — the world only had you two, and you didn’t know that’s how it would feel like forever.

you were the love of her life, and cassie would never denied that; she knew she belonged to you, and that you were absolutely devoted to her.

that was the problem.

you would never leave, and she refused to let you go, even if that meant she would put you through hell.

your shared twenties was a haunting thrill, filled with drugs, filled with problems. cassie dug herself deeper into her addiction, and you had found her so many times, calling the hospital so they could resurrect her. but you loved her; you were there by her bedside, sleeping next to her on the hospital bed, cleaning her up or her vomit — you do it all just to be with cassie forever.

you would be in the room with her as doctors at pittsburgh trauma medical center were fighting to bring her back, nurses consoling you while you had to watch, praying and hoping she’d come back to you.

she would be out of it the first few hours after waking up, but she’d always remember your face, your touch, and your voice — it was the only reminder that she was still alive.

“i love you. you know that, right?” cassie asked you as you peeked up to look at her, smiling small. “you’re my girl.”

the hospital blanket was barely enough to keep you both warm, but she made sure it covered you enough, and your head rested on her chest, hearing her heartbeat which made you thankful that it was still there.

“i know, cass,” you nodded, her fingers playing with your hair. “you just have to get clean, please.”

it was easier to be said than done. you could put her through rehab, and she would only survive a week after coming out. you slept at her place, lived with her, did everything you could.

you’d never deny how mean she got when she was intoxicatingly high, where in moments she would lash out, and you’d have to lock yourself in a room until she exhausted herself out.

and it’s not like you had anyone else — no, as long as cassie was around, your friends wanted no part of you in their lives.

your parents hated her, hated what she was doing to you, and you’d argue with them to the point they didn’t want you in their house.

“as long as she’s in your life, you’re out of our house!” your dad yelled, and your mom stood behind him, silent. “get out!”

you called cassie right after as you shoved your things into a suitcase. “my parents are kicking me out. can i come stay with you?” you asked, voice trembling.

“of course you can. i’ll come get you right now,” she said, her voice soft and reassuring. “you can stay with me as long as you need.”

and you did — even when you didn’t want to. when she tried to be a med student, her addiction worsened, stealing medications from the hospital, bringing it home with her.

the coffee table would have opened bottles of pills displayed everywhere, ranging from benzos to oxycodone. she would be passed out on the couch, and you’d sit next to her, being in a curled up ball while you slept, scared to leave her by herself.

if cassie wanted you around while she was sick, you would remain in her life. you wouldn’t escape, you wouldn’t run; you’d stay, and take in more years of her volatile, destructive behavior and life.

she would scare you, but love you the next day, and you’d melt into her touch like pudding. she was your love, your beating heart.

you and her would go out to bars, the alcohol not mixing well with the drugs in her system, making her inpatient and violent with strangers, nearly always getting into fights.

you’d look at her crying and her anger shifted into concern, her hands on your cheeks as she would wipe away your tears. “why are you crying?” she’d ask, oblivious to her actions, gullible to her temper. “i didn’t hurt you.”

she did hurt you — she didn’t need her fists colliding with your skin to hurt you because this was enough to make it traumatic and scarring to your soul.

“i’m just… happy,” you mumbled, sniffling. you were happy that she was still alive, heartbeat against yours every time your skins would be brushing up against one another while being undressed in the bed.

this wasn’t the cassie you loved at eighteen, the cassie who brought you flowers every friday, the cassie that’d kiss the palm on your hand and say she loves you, being forever her girl.

but it was cassie — some version of her that you would never be familiar with, but promised to love and tend to whenever needed.

she needed you. she needed you.

you gave into the knowing that she relied on you, and you wouldn’t disappoint her.

months went by as you lived with her, taking in every time she stole money from you, threw things at the wall, was gone for hours in the night.

it was a thursday, two in the morning, when your dad called you. the contact name flashed brightly, and you hesitated to answer it, bringing the phone up to your ear.

“hi, dad,” you sniffled.

“i had a bad feeling,” he admitted. “is everything okay?”

you wanted to sob, you had the urge to scream into the phone for your parents to come get you, that you didn’t know how much more of the trouble you could handle.

but you clung to cassie, drowning in your love and devotion to her.

your worst addiction was her. she was worse than heroin, but made you feel higher than the snorted snow ever could.

you’d give in again and again and again, until your heart would stop beating, and you’d die in her arms, promising that your love would follow you into heaven.

“i’m fine, dad. i’m doing really good,” you lied, voice trembling. “i’m going to go back to sleep. i love you.”

then, cassie met chad — and your life fucking crumbled before your eyes. when she told you about it, you threw up in the toilet, about to choke on your sobs snd vomit.

because she loved him and make it known. you weren’t her girl, she wasn’t yours.

she didn’t need you anymore, and you didn’t know who you were without her. your sole identity and life was cassie, all the years and love, the sex and drugs — it was all her. what were you supposed to do now?

you luckily got a career as a social worker in pittsburgh, able to move out and live on your own, which was impossible for the first few months. you refused to block her number, but she never called, never texted, and you obeyed like an animal, attached to the leash she had you on.

you sunk into a hole, your emotional instability worsening as you would find yourself on the edge of your apartment balcony, looking down at the street.

you questioned how bad the fall would it be, if it would hurt immediately, or if you’d die on impact. you wondered if cassie would come to your funeral, if that was enough for her to notice you again.

you wanted to take the risk, you were tempted to.

cassie and chad get engaged — and you’re invited to the wedding. you took yourself to the bar that you and cassie were all too familiar with, drowning yourself in the liquor, slurring your words.

you ordered a few old fashioned drinks, a classic cassie favorite, and though you hated how hot and gross it felt against your throat with every sip, it was another reminder of her.

the bartender couldn’t serve you anymore, and he didn’t want to call the police on you, worried about how much you were crying, and how much you drank.

you left your phone out as you were on the brink of passing out. he grabbed it, finding your emergency contact to be cassie mckay.

it was one in the morning, and cassie couldn’t sleep, sitting outside her home with a cigarette in between her fingers. her phone was besides her, buzzing along the patio ground, and she froze when she saw your name to appear.

she doesn’t remember the last time you spoke — you packed up your things, and left without saying anything else. she didn’t go looking for you because she knew there was no point, and convinced herself that marrying chad was the best option.

“hello?” cassie answered.

“hello. this is richard from the western barn bar, i found your name on this young lady’s phone,” the man said, and cassie sighed, shaking her head. “she needs to be picked up, she’s barely awake too.”

cassie hung up the call, getting in her car, and rushed over to the place. she was sure she’d get pulled over due to her running over the speed limit, about to crash at any moment. it was already closing, and you were slouched over the countertop, her heart pounding heavily because you seemed nearly dead.

she came up to you, shaking your body. “baby,” she whispered, kissing the side of your head. “come on, we need to get home.”

you briefly woke up, your eyes adjusting to the sight of you. she was smiling, and you thought you must’ve died from alcohol poisoning, finally seeing your final moment before you would see a black void.

“i’m going to carry you, okay?” cassie told you, and you groaned, vomit sloshing around in your stomach as she carried you in her arms, thanking the bartender.

your head rested against her shoulder, the world spinning around you. “you… you left me,” you mumbled. “why did you leave, cassie?”

she didn’t know what to say, because what was there to say? she knew she left you, abandoned you, but there was no way to go back.

you loved her, and that was the troubling part. she loved you so deeply and violently, it consumed her, and knew it could fucking kill you.

cassie opened the door to the backseat, tucking you in, and putting a blanket around you. “you’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” she reassured, hastily getting into the driver seat, and turned on the car. she was lucky enough to be home by herself for the week, chad going away on a business trip.

she kept looking into the rearview mirror to make sure your chest was falling up and down, that there was any sign of life. she sniffled, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes.

she hoped you’d call her, show up at her front doorstep, but it was her responsibility to go search for you, to apologize.

she parked her car in the driveway, ushering to your side, and gently tugged you out, lifting you back into her arms as she closed the door with her foot. “oh, my girl,” she whispered, kissing your forehead. “this is all my fault, isn’t it?”

cassie got inside her home, rushing to her bedroom, and sat you on the edge of her bed. “i don’t feel good,” you mumbled, about to cry, “all i ever wanted was for you to love me.”

“i know baby, i know,” she said, helping take off your shoes and clothes. she tucked you under the covers, propping your head up with a few pillows as she sat next to you. “i didn’t mean to do anything of this.”

yet, she did everything that ruined you, and kept you close to her.

she put some ibuprofen and a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, getting herself ready for bed. she sat up against the headboard, looking at you, checking your pulse every five minutes. she couldn’t sleep or think about closing her eyes — for once, it was her staying up as you slept, and made sure you stayed alive.

you woke up the next day around mid noon, the sun that shined through the curtains forcing you out of your slumber, and you groaned. your eyes could barely adjust to where you were, but your nose picked up on the perfume that only cassie would wear, and you could feel vomit threatening to be spewed out.

you were in her house, in her bed.

feet padded on the floor, making way to the bedroom, and your eyes looked over at the door, which opened and revealed an exhausted cassie.

she looked surprise to see you awake, but grinned at the sight of you. “hey, you’re finally up,” she said, coming to sit next to you. “i was worried you’d sleep throughout the day.”

you looked at her, around the room, and then back at her. “what am i doing here? how did i even get here?” you asked, panicking rising in your chest.

“you blacked out at the bar, and the bartender called me. i guess you still have me as an emergency contact,” cassie explained, watching as you sat up against the headboard. “i brought you here to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit.”

“i’m in the bed you fucking sleep in with your fiancé,” you spat, and she sighed. “i would’ve rather died on my vomit than be here with you.”

“you have every right to be angry—”

“i’m more than fucking angry, cassie,” you told her, scoffing in disbelief. “what the fuck was i to you all these years? and you can’t tell me it was a phase with me, because we were something for years.”

“i know, i know,” she muttered, rubbing her temple in frustration. “but it had to be like this because i knew as long as i stuck around, i wouldn’t get clean, and you wouldn’t survive.”

“you’re serious? are you genuinely mental?” you wondered, shaking your head as you forced yourself to get changed, ignoring the hangover you were experiencing. “i think we both made it clear we shouldn’t be in each other’s lives because i swear—”

“i’m pregnant,” cassie said, and you froze in your footsteps, paralyzed in every part of your body. “and i’m going to keep it.”

you stared at the hallway that in front of you, your peripheral vision tunneling itself. “well let’s hope your baby isn’t as fucked up as you are,” you stated, mustering up the ability to even move your legs to walk out of her house as she watched you until you were completely gone.

you faded before her eyes, and she hunched over, grasping onto her stomach as she broke into sobs, the sounds of her melancholy and regret bouncing off the walls in her lonely home.

her sweet heroin, you, was the worst withdrawal she was about to encounter — and the most deadly one, at that.

about a year later, you were okay. you sought out love in all the wrong places, trying to find cassie in each of them, but there would never be anyone like her, and maybe that was for the best.

you took the difficult choice to never keep yourself updated about cassie, and though you two lived in the same are, you were lucky enough to never bump into her.

you had to deal with a quiet life, a solitude that tortured you inside, but had to present it as a serene experience.

you knew cassie would’ve already had her kid, and you did wonder if it was a boy or girl — you two had settled on different names for your children if it were to ever happen.

substances presented itself into your life only a few months after you separated yourself from cassie, hoping it would give out your heart one day. you managed to work in the day, but actively use once you got home, the silence inside making it troubling to breathe and exist.

it was midnight, the tv on and lines on your coffee table as you were curled in a ball, staring at the screen. the cartoon just ran before your eyes, and your apartment was cold, cassie’s sweater not keeping you warm enough.

heavy knocks pounded against your apartment’s front door, your head twisting to the side to the sound of it. you knew it was late, and nobody ever would visit at this time, your eyebrows raising in concern.

another set of knocks continued, and you hesitantly got up, grabbing a kitchen knife as you slowly approached the door.

“i know you’re in there,” cassie’s voice echoed behind the door, and you froze, the knife dropping on your foot as you sucked in a scream, swinging the door open.

the pain that pounded in your foot, surged through your body, and to your heart as you sniffled.

she looked so exhausted, so worn out.

“what are you doing here?” you asked. “how did you find me?”

“your records at the pittsburgh hospital,” she admitted, her eyes shifting to your bleeding foot. “jesus fuck, what did you do?”

“it’s nothing,” you said, picking up the knife as you wobbled to the sink, dropping it inside of it. “what do you want, cassie? like genuinely.”

“i lost harrison,” she said.

“who’s that?” you asked.

“my kid. i got addicted again, chad took him,” she confessed, and you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “i didn’t know where else to go, i didn’t know what else to do.”

“did he kick you out?” you wondered, and she nodded. “what am i supposed to do? i’ve exhausted all my efforts, everything i’ve done to help you.”

cassie didn’t anything else, putting her hands on your hips as she sat you on top of the counter. she searched around your first aid kit, finding it in the cabinet under the sink, and put it next to you.

“are you going to use your medical skills on me?” you asked, and she hummed, nodding.

“i’ll let you think while i do this, okay?” she said, and you sighed, watching her clean up the wound on your foot, entirely numb to the feeling of it. “i’m going to finish medical school. i want to get clean for harrison, and chad’s just…”

“chad is what?” you wondered.

“he threatened to kill me if i tried to take harrison,” she said, and you stared at her while she tried to remain calm. “said he would make sure i was put in a ditch, and that harrison didn’t need a junkie mother.”

“i know someone that can hurt him,” you suggested, and cassie softly chuckled. “i’m serious.”

“i know you are,” she muttered, wrapping the bandage around your foot, putting a kiss to your knee before she looked at you. “i’ve ruined you, haven’t i?”

the background sound of the television circulated through the house, being the only noise that slipped between the silence that fell upon you and cassie.

you loved that she ruined you, that anything you did was all because of her — for her — and for all the things she did to you, to the point your addiction was on the same euphorically bittersweet level as hers.

she broke you down to fill in the empty spots that were in her soul and heart because you loved her, and you loved that she could be the only person you’d allow to do this to you.

she would kiss you in the morning, but by nighttime, substances possessed her brain, making her cruel — but you got to love that, because it was still cassie.

you welcomed her to ruin you, to deprave you because it meant she got to claim you, and that’s what you wanted.

if she ruined you again and again, you’d look at her with a smile on your face, tears cascading down your cheeks, and say, “i love you.”

“if only you knew,” you answered, and she put her hand on your cheek, inching her face closer to yours. “why do we keep doing this? i need to know, cass.”

“why do you keep letting it happen?” she asked.

it took aback, like the wind was just knocked out of you, and you were stabbed in your stomach. your mouth cracked open to say something, anything, but your words were caught in your throat, like barbwire was wrapping around them.

“you know why,” you told her, inhaling sharply. “because i believe if we let each other go, that’ll be the one thing that’ll kill us — not the drugs, but us.”

you weren’t going to let go of her, lose her, even if she didn’t get clean, if she continued to lose what’s left of her mind.

you just needed this one thing because this was a love story to you. you needed it to be just that, but then what was this all for?

cassie loved you because you needed it to be that, and how you needed her, like she was the oxygen that pumped in your lungs and veins, the same air she could knock out of you, and you’d call it love.

you two needed one last rush before reality would come crashing down in the very moment, the truth lingering the air, ready to consume you and rot in your conscience forever.

“you’re my girl,” she whispered, and you nodded. you were her only girl, the only person she’d ever love, but forever ache for because she knew at some point, the end was near and there was nothing to stop it.

cassie dipped her head in, kissing you soft but hungry for you, for the taste of your lips that she had dreamt of for so long, forgetting how addictive you were. your lips paced itself in the same rhythm as hers, your fingers combing through her hair strands, gently grasping at it.

she picked you up, your legs wrapping around her waist as she navigated you both to your bedroom, desperate for one another as clothes were torn off, bodies brushing up against each other.

the only way to leave your addictions was to let go of one another, but the craving for the last, intoxicating high would make it impossible to cure it.

you cried, and she kissed every tear, whispering sweet nothings. your body would memorize her touch, her lips against your soft skin, and how her teeth would gently bite it, marking it to remind of the pain and pleasure she brought to you.

your fingernails scratched her back, her hands digging into your skin to leave bruises that you wished to be permanent.

“please hurt me,” you pleaded, crying. “please hurt me, i need it.”

what was more beautiful than the inflicted pain from your lover? how would it be any different than what she had already put through, what she knew you’d willingly suffer?

“i’ll hurt you, baby,” she promised, and you gave her a sad smile, thanking her in whispers. “i’ll hurt you because i love you.”

your cruel romance that was the sweetest poison you’d ever taste — and forever would be seeking for.

nearly nine years passed, and you still remember that night, but how you woke up to a cold spot next to you, cassie’s perfume lingering on your bedsheets.

you got yourself cleaned up, and went on with the rest half of your life knowing you’d have to live without knowing her, without her being in it.

you don’t know what happened to her after that, and you didn’t go seeking answers because it would kill you.

if you saw her again, you’d just die.

but your time was close, and it was ticking fast. you were sitting in the trauma level of the pittsburgh hospital, where you were waiting for answers on why your body was failing on you, why it was collapsing.

“hello, i’m doctor robinavitch, but you can call me robby,” the older man introduced, tablet in his hand as he put on his glasses, sitting down on the chair next to you. “do you have any family who can be with you at this time?”

“um, i really don’t want to tell them anything right now,” you said, and he nodded. “am i okay? what’s going on?”

“i’m going to be honest with you — you’re in the intense, late stages of stage three lung cancer,” robinavitch stated, and your heart sunk. “it’s spreading everywhere in your body, and we can try aggressive chemotherapy, but we don’t know how long you’ll once you’ve started it.”

you looked at your lap, playing with the fabric of your hospital gown. “what’s my estimated time of living?” you asked, glancing over at him.

“your body will give out in at least seven months,” he admitted, and you hummed, nodding to yourself. “we can get you started as soon as today, and we’ll do what we can to help you, make you comfortable.”

“can we start it tomorrow? i just… really would like to go home, sort out my affairs,” you said, and he understood, getting up.

“i’ll have one of the other doctors come in, give you some paperwork and such,” he told you, sad sorrow on his face. “i’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

you didn’t say much else as he took it as his cue to give you space, making his way to the nurses station.

“dr. mckay, i need you to give this information to a patient,” robinavitch stated, and she came to his side, switching tablets with him. “i need you to start the process of talking to our cancer center, giving her paperwork, and such.”

“cancer center?” cassie wondered. “what is she doing here, then?”

“she called the ambulance on herself last night, but we’ve been keeping an eye on her until we got back all tests,” he explained, and her eyes shifted down to the information on the tablet. “stage three lung cancer.”

robinavitch and dana saw how pale cassie’s face got, how she looked like she was going to throw up. “hey, what’s going on?” he panicked, shaking her back into reality. “dr. mckay?”

“i… i just,” she stammered, but ran off to where you were at, her eyes looking at every space until she saw the back of your body.

she stood there, and realized how malnourished you beginning to look, her heart sinking. she called your name, and your body stiffened, slowly turning around.

she came into your space, closing the privacy curtain. “you have cancer,” she said, and you chuckled. “why are you laughing?”

“i didn’t expect you to be working here,” you told her, looking at her badge, “doctor mckay.”

“you’re going to die,” she stated, and you shrugged. “why are you acting like this isn’t a big deal!”

“what do you want me to do, cassie? you want me to live?” you wondered, and she nodded. “it’ll be a fucking miracle if i survive this, even if i do chemo and take a bunch of medication.”

“i’ll pay for it, i’ll take care—”

“i don’t need your pity,” you spat, changing back into your normal clothes. “i don’t need your help. you’ve always done just fine without me, and i can take care of myself — i’ve been doing that for a while now.”

“we had to end things, you even knew that,” cassie recalled, and you scoffed. “please just… you’re being irrational.”

“if you’ll excuse me, i have to go,” you rushed past her, storming out of the hospital. cassie’s coworkers watched her run outside of the hospital after you as she grabbed you by your bicep, forcing you to stop in your tracks. “what the fuck do you need, cassie!”

she grabbed you by both sides of your arms, her eyes aligning into yours, and she inhaled heavily. “just don’t do this, i can’t handle this,” she confessed, and you rolled your eyes. “i can’t go to your funeral — not yours, please.”

“you abandoned me to begin with cassie, when you decided to get with chad,” you snapped, shaking your head in utter disbelief. “i—i don’t remember chad being there when you got into bar fights, and had to clean up your bleeding knuckles! i don’t remember him being the one to pump out your stomach, perform cpr on you in the middle of his living room!”

“baby, please—”

“it was me who was always there!” you yelled, not realizing you were crying in front of her. “so tell me why you don’t want me to abandon you, when you’ve done it all this time?”

“i… i got with chad because he loved me, and i thought he knew me so well,” cassie admitted, and you stood there, staring at her. “i thought he would make me a better person.”

“and what about me, cassie?” you wondered, your hands gesturing towards you. “i have loved you since i was eighteen years old. you don’t think i know every side of you? every part of you?” you looked at her for another moment, waiting for an answer, and you just shook your head, looking to your side.

“i’m sorry,” is all she could manage to say.

you hummed, nodding in thought, and let out of a breathy, bitter laugh. “i’m sorry too, cass. i’m so sorry i wasted all my efforts and life trying to fix you,” you said, and shrugged. “and i’m so sorry you had someone who actually loved you.”

cassie let you walk away, and she put her face into her hands, sitting on the curb by the emergency entrance, breaking into sobs.

robinavitch came out, sitting next to her. “i’m going to send you home for rest of the day,” he said, patting her upper back. “i don’t know what that was all about, but you can’t just expect someone to live for you if you’ve never truly cared about their life to begin with.”

and he was right because she ruined your life, while you always managed to save hers.

in the night, around seven, cassie sat in her apartment, staring at the blank television screen in front of her. she fought with her thoughts, guilt and shame consuming her and claiming her, suffocating her brain.

she did this — your love for her made you so sick, your body couldn’t even fucking handle it.

her phone buzzed, and took a look at it, seeing the area code to be pittsburgh. she assumed it could be chad’s girlfriend or the hospital, answering it right away.

“hello?” she answered.

“cassie,” you slurred. “cassie.”

“baby?” she wondered. “what’s happening? what’s wrong?”

“i need you to know,” you mumbled as she heard you sipping something, “i really fucking hate how you lured me to love you.”

“oh sweetheart, i know,” she whispered, sniffling. “i’d take it all back if i could.”

“my body is poisoned,” you said, laughing to yourself. “i’m poisoned, but my body doesn’t even realize it’s sick — it’s still busy remembering you.”

cassie realized what you were doing, what was happening. “where are you at, baby? what did you take?” she asked, getting up and looked for her car keys. “i’ll come get you, it’s okay.”

“i’m so happy,” you whispered. “and… and i get to be free,” the line went dead, and cassie screamed, her fingers rushing to dana’s phone number.

“what’s up, kid?” dana answered. cassie told her to look for your address, giving her all your information. “she lives in…. mckay, she lives in the same building as you. apartment number 222.”

you were on the opposite side of the building from her. “call an ambulance to here,” cassie hung up the call, rushing out of her apartment, and making ways to yours. she nearly tripped over a few times, barely realizing she was barefoot, and didn’t even have a sweater on.

she pounded on your front door, screaming your name. “open up, open up!” she yelled, kicking at the door again and again, her adrenaline coursing through her legs. “you have to open up!”

she managed to break down the door after a few minutes, and she could hear distant ambulance sirens as she ran inside, hearing shaky gargles and rattling breaths.

cassie found you on your bed, laying down in a ball, and your eyes were already closed. she put two fingers to your pulse, feeling how it slowed itself down each second, and looked at your nightstand.

you injected heroin, and took your treatment medication with it, finishing it off with a bottle of vodka. “fuck, fuck! don’t give up on me, baby!” she said, picking up your body and dragged you to the bathroom, turning on the shower. “you can’t leave me, i won’t let you!”

she sat with you under the water, hoping the cold of it would wake you up, help you out in any possible way as she held you in her arms, sobbing.

you were limp, your breathing hallow and dying, and she could feel your life fading away. she kissed your forehead, and rested hers against it, sobbing and pleading.

“it’s medical services!” a man yelled.

“in here!” cassie shouted, and multiple paramedics came to the bathroom. “please do something, she’s not breathing anymore.”

the paramedics picked up, a stretcher being ready for you as you put on it, and cassie stood up, turning off the shower. “i’m her family,” cassie told them, following behind them into the ambulance.

she sat right next to you, holding your hand as a medic put wires to you, a breathing mask over your mouth. she cried into your side, shaking her head in thought, and was going to pass out.

“what did she take?” the medic asked cassie, and she looked up, thinking to herself.

“i know she had pills next to her, injected some heroin that was mixed with alcohol,” cassie recalled, and he went into panic overdrive, starting to do chest compressions. “i’m a doctor at pittsburgh medical center — i already told them to have everything ready.”

she held your cold hand, kissing the back of it, and promised god that if he kept you alive, she’d sacrifice herself for you if that’s what it took.

the ambulance came to hard stop when at the emergency deck, opening up the back doors as cassie ran out of it, and her team was there, waiting for you.

a nurse kneeled at the side of stretcher, continuing to do chest compressions and cassie ran behind everyone. about to step inside the trauma room, robinavitch immediately stopped her, and shook his head.

“i need to be with her!” cassie protested, and he repeatedly told her no. “if she dies, i need to be with her.”

he stood for a moment, looking into the trauma room where everyone rushed to save you, panicking on what would work best to bring you back.

“i won’t stop this because i know i’ll regret it,” he said, opening the door for cassie, and she came to your side, staying close.

cassie had cursed you by being in your life and letting you suffer at the hands of her addiction and your devotion — and maybe, you’d forever curse her.

you died hours later, which was on cassie’s birthday, and on the time she was born.

The nature of Emery's work - and her rising profile in the medical community - meant that, between her long hours at the hospital, she also left town for stretches to attend conferences representing PTMC. And that was - well, begrudgingly fine. You could accept that she led a busy life, and you knew that was the case when you started dating her. But as time wore on and she became more central to your life, the more difficult and strange it was to not have her around, even if it was just her sliding into bed beside you after a long shift and pressing a sleepy kiss to your shoulder.

And while you hated to be apart from her, the rejoining was almost enough to make up for it.

You're naked, tangled in bed, wine-drunk and unsure where her body ends and yours begins anymore, while she tilts your head back and kisses you in a way that defies any word you can think of. You're helplessly, pathetically wet and certain she can feel it where her leg is slotted between yours. You feel deliriously happy to have her back, and despite her bravado and sarcasm, you know she feels the same.

When she pulls back from your open mouth, there's an erotic string of saliva between you before she wipes her thumb over your lips and smudges it on them. You chase the finger with your mouth and suck on it, savouring her low groan at the sight.

"What do you need, baby?" She asks, her voice husky but laden with more soft affection than usual. 

"You," you reply, releasing the finger with a pop. "I need you, Em."

She smiles, a laugh under her breath. "I know that. What do you need from me?"

You pause a second, forcing your hazy mind to work. "I need you in me." 

She grins, one eyebrow lifted, looking a little feline. "You want my cock?" 

You nod, fighting the noise that threatens to slip out at her words. She means, of course, the dark blue ribbed silicone she can use like she grew it. 

"Yeah," you finally manage. "Please."

She ducks to kiss you, quickly but meaningfully, on the lips and then cheek, before climbing off of you and the bed. You feel colder without the warmth of her body, but you roll onto your side to watch her walk and bend over to reach into one of the drawers of the armoire to pull out the item. You sigh softly, watching the swell of her hips move in the low light and the curve of her ass as she bends, and her soft, round breasts as she straightens and turns back to you. She's a thing of beauty, and you never grow tired of seeing her like this. 

She rests one knee on the edge of the bed as she comes back, dropping the harness and its key feature on the coverlet beside her. She looks at you with mixed satisfaction and warmth, then takes one of your hands, playing with it.

"I missed you, too, you know." She admits, turning your hand over. 

You smile, dopey. Emery's expressions of love, though no less weighted, aren't usually the verbal ones you're prone to. She shows love by showing up, by remembering the important things and by taking care of you. "You did?" you ask, indulgent.

She nods and draws your hand to her lower stomach and rests it there. It's an offering. 

"Want to know how much?" She asks softly.

At this, you sit up a little. It didn't take long in your relationship for you to figure out Emery preferred to be the proverbial giver in bed. And it wasn't that she didn't want you to touch her or didn't like to cum, but it was a matter of control. Emery liked control and didn't enjoy giving it up. Rarely, she'd let you eat her out, but it was always on her terms. 

"How much?" You ask, interest piqued. 

She takes the hand and pushes it down, to the trimmed curls between her thighs and into the warm slick. She sighs in something like relief as you gasp softly.

"Can I?" you whisper, needing confirmation.

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and nods, rolling her hips against your fingers. 

You shift up to kneel on the bed, making your height more level as you push deeper, meeting almost no resistance to sink two fingers into her and press the heel of your palm to her clit. 

You lean in to kiss her neck and feel the rapid thrum of her heart, toying with the chain of her gold Magen David as you do. "Tell me what to do," you whisper close to her ear. "Use me."

She has no problem doing just that, and you help her by finding the delicate, spongy spot in her and working it while she grinds into your hand. You find her lips and kiss her, even as it becomes messy as she gets closer. One of her hands anchors your wrist in place, and the other sinks into the meat of your ass, squeezing as she pants your name into your mouth. 

"Cum for me," you whisper. And more pathetically, "Please, please, please."

She does, with a shudder and cry she muffles in your shoulder, squeezing your fingers with the force of it. When it passes, you reluctantly withdraw the hand and, making sure she's watching, lick it clean.

She grins, chest rising and falling rapidly. "You dirty, dirty woman."

You settle back on the bed again, radiant. "Your dirty woman," you correct.

She reaches for the harness and throws you a smirk. "Even better."

You watch with mixed anticipation and lust as she puts the harness on, absolutely intentional in the way she turns around so you see how the leather frames her ass when she tightens the straps. You make a soft, unwilling noise, and she turns back to you, climbing onto the bed and between your legs.

She hovers over you, the strands of her curly dark hair that escape her bun framing her face. "Any requests?" 

You nod, hands settling on her waist and rubbing circles with your thumbs.

"Slow. Deep. Talk to me?" You ask, and she presses a smiling kiss to your lips.

"All of that I can do," she tells you, before settling back again on her knees and grasping your hips.

She takes her time teasing you, rubbing the head of the silicone cock against your clit and down, gathering moisture. You whine, hooking a leg around her waist and trying to urge her to just put it in already, but she gives you a knowing, smug smile.

You huff and exasperatedly sigh. “Emery,” you grasp at her waist, nails digging in to the soft flesh. “Please, stop taunting me and just fuck me already.”

She laughs, but relents and presses the tip into you, watching you draw in a deep breath as it disappears. You writhe a little as she presses fully in, and shifts so you’re in missionary with your legs around her waist. 

“That better?” She asks, her voice rough when she’s fully seated inside you.

“Uh-huh,” you whisper, devolving into a gasp as she starts to move again. Her rhythm is languid and punctuated with deep thrusts that make your toes curl as you clutch her closer.

“My pretty girl,” she murmurs, her gaze soft and hungry at the same time. “You take me so well, baby. I don’t tell you enough.”

You preen at the praise, arching your neck for her to mark you. She takes the invitation - Emery adores marking what’s her’s - and bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder before soothing it with her tongue. 

Your eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” you breathe, turning your face toward the pillow.

She pulls back slightly, tilting your face back towards her without breaking her pace. “Thank you?” she repeats, an amused look on her face.

You chew on your bottom lip, stifling the soft gasp that comes as she shifts your hip up and deepens her angle. “For - this,” you manage, staccato with your breathing. “I love you. Thank you.”

Her lips part a bit at your words - far from the first time you’ve said them, but the intensity of the moment gives them new weight. Her head bobs before she ducks, and her mouth is right by your ear as she replies.

“I love you. You’re all I can think about when I’m gone; I just tick off the hours until I can get back to you. Back to this,” she pants, and her thrusts are faster and deliberate now. When she lifts her head again to look at you, her necklace falls over you, and you catch the pendant in your teeth. She makes a low moan and tugs it out, before devouring your mouth herself.

Everything about the moment feels perfect. Emery, the warmth of her body pressed against you while she fucks you like she could get you pregnant, the buzz of the wine still in your system, her tongue in your mouth, the feel of her ass under your hands as you press her closer, deeper, and moan her name into her open lips.

“Like that,” you whimper, “Like that, Em, fuck, I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” she assures you, “I’ve got you, baby. You can let go.”

And you do. It’s the delicious, slow-building, full-body kind of orgasm that reminds you why the French call it “the little death.” It feels like she’s killed you, and then brought you back again. You gasp her name again and again like a prayer while she watches you with a raw, unmaskable kind of tenderness. She loves you. She couldn’t hide it if she tried.

When it passes, she eases out of you and kneels for a second to take the dildo out of its loop and sets it on the nightstand so she can drop down beside you and pull you flush against her without it in between.

You listen to the thrum of her heart as you regain your breath, then lift your head to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. You drop your head beside her on the pillow, looking at her flushed face and beautiful brown eyes. Her hand settles on the small of your back, tracing circles there. She smiles.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you say, voice raspy.

You felt good this morning. Better than good, amazing. Amazing was a weird word for you. One you’d only use if you were on top of the world. And, well, you definitely were. 

After a rough shift last night, you unwinded just the way you wanted to. Well almost. 

You took a long hot bath, your music playing in the background. Just a random playlist you were sure you made back in high school. But it felt good, nostalgic. Almost too good. 

There was one thing missing; Cassie.

You didn't think about work, didn’t think about your competition for next year, didn’t think about the test you should’ve definitely been studying for. 

No, just took your time. No one was waiting on you. The studying could wait for once. You always wrung yourself out like a soaked towel. Then hung yourself on the clothes line to dry, embarrassing yourself in the process. Not enough sleep, too much caffeine. 

Anyways, it could wait. 

When you got out of the bath, the warm water long gone, you ordered Chinese food. You were in bed by a decent time. 

Cassie’s name didn’t even pop up in your head once. It was nice. Not having to think about your inappropriate, ever growing crush on your superior. 

It was wrong, you knew. But you couldn’t help yourself. It was something about her. So alluring you couldn’t stop. Her red hair, her utterly perfect smile, the rasp in her voice. The same voice that seemed to lower and go gentle for only you. 

Anyways, you didn’t think about that last night. 

You woke up before your alarm this morning. And for once, it didn’t feel like an inconvenience. You even had time to stop for breakfast this morning. It felt good knowing you started your day off right. 

You had high hopes for your shift today. You couldn’t have two terrible shifts in a row, right? 

You got to the car park with just enough time to actually enjoy your food. There was even a little pep in your step when you walked through the door. You didn’t even bat an eye when people scowled at you in the waiting room. 

Dana greets you at the desk, “Hi, sunshine. You’re glowing this morning. Didn’t think I would see that.” 

“Good night.” You shrugged as if it was nothing. But it felt good to smile and not fake it for once. 

“D’ya get laid?” Dana asks with a suggestive smirk, her eye brows raising. 

You smack her lightly on the shoulder, never hard enough to do damage. 

“Dana!” You smile. “Just a good night in, if you must know. I’m ready to work. Yesterday was.. rough.” 

“Yeah.” Dana sighs, looking down for a moment before she glances back up. “Rough for everybody. But I’m glad to see you smilin’. McKay was worried about you for a second, we all were. Don’t push yourself so hard, alright?” 

Your chest flutters at the mention of Cassie, even more so when she admits she was worried. 

You and Cassie had grown fond of each other over the past months. You always worked with her, dubbed as her med student. And neither of you ever corrected them. 

I mean, she did call you hers when you weren’t around. But it wasn’t like you were branded by her. Not that you wouldn’t be opposed to that. 

“You alright?” Dana leans forward, worry written across her face. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile. “Fine. Just gonna go change.” 

You make your way to your locker, changing in peace. There’s no one in here, and that might’ve been because you came in a few minutes early. But you didn’t care. It was nice. 

Your stethoscope finds its way around your neck, claiming it’s home there for the next twelve hours. 

When you come back to the desk, Dana and Dennis are chatting. They don’t say anything to you right away, just talking about the new med students that started a few days ago. You didn’t really get to know them yet, but you didn’t care for the guy. Ogilvie, you think his name was. 

He seemed cocky. Like he knew everything about everyone. 

But you didn’t bat an eye when you said, “Hey, have you seen McKay yet? I’m ready to start working.”

“Oh.. um.” Dennis looks away from Dana and back to you. “You’re with me today.” 

Disappointment shocks your body. You’ve never not worked with Cassie. And it made you kind of sad. 

But you were a professional, and if it meant learning from other people, you would take it. There was nothing you wanted more than to be an emergency medicine doctor, so you’d take anything you could get. But still, you liked learning from Cassie. 

“Oh. Do you know why?” You tried your best to stay neutral, but it didn’t work as well as you’d thought. 

“Not sure.” Dennis shrugged, looking just as surprised as you’d hoped you looked. “Robby said something about spicing things up. He said he didn’t want anyone to stay with one person every day.” 

Was he talking about you? He never questioned anything when you requested to be paired with McKay. So why did he change his mind now? 

“Okay.” You press your lips together to ask any further questions like; Do you know why Robby did this? Was it about me? Are you sure it was Robby’s idea? Does McKay have a problem with me now? But we were fine yesterday, why would she request someone else?

“Hey, don’t overthink it. It’ll be okay.” Dennis places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You know you’re spiraling, and so does everyone else in this hospital. It was definitely your weakest quality. 

“I know.” You sigh. “Where are your other med students? Don’t you have Ogilvie and.. what’s the other girl's name?”

“Joy.” He answers. “I’m not quite sure where she is. Probably with Robby. And.. Ogilvie’s with McKay.”

Great. Add that to the list of things you don’t like about him. Jealousy grew in the pit of your stomach, but you tried your best to push it out. Green wasn’t a good look on you. 

“Okay.” You hope your face doesn’t give away what you’re thinking, but the squeak in your voice says it all, you’re sure of it. 

“O.. kay.” Dennis separates his word, feeling the jealousy pouring off of you. “Like I said, it was Robby's idea. I’m sure everything will be back to normal by tomorrow, okay?” 

“Yeah.” You try to assure yourself, but it only half works. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” He nods at you. “How about we check out the girl with a makeup brush though her cheek, huh?” 

You clear your throat, placing your attention on the case, and away from Cassie. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.” 

The day sets off on a wobbly start, but it slowly gets better. You don’t see Cassie for a majority of the day, crossing paths a few times. And when you did, she gave you the same kind smiles and jokes she usually did. 

The other part of your day is spent with Dennis. 

You liked him, don’t get it wrong. He just wasn’t Cassie. You missed her. But she wasn’t yours to miss. And you knew it. 

There was nothing going on with you and Cassie. You could say that. Even if your heart clenches at the thought of never seeing Cassie again. Or the thought of her never liking you back. 

To be honest, you knew the second one was going to be the outcome. Maybe even both, to be honest. 

You were way younger than Cassie. Twenty-five, to be exact. Whereas she was forty-two, with a whole kid. 

That should’ve turned you away, but instead it pulled you closer. Sure you were too young to be a step mom, but who cares? As long as you had Cassie, you’d do and be anything. 

She was probably old enough to be your mother, but you didn’t care. You always liked them a little older. The question was, did Cassie like them younger? And did she even like girls?

You thought on it, pretending to smile and nod at whatever Dennis was saying to you. But you don’t catch a single word. 

The way Cassie smiled at you, the way everyone gave the two of you looks, made you think maybe she did like girls. Maybe she’d had a girlfriend in the past, and despite her determination to keep work and her personal life separated, they knew about her. 

A distaste reaches your mouth at the thought. 

You keep the possibility in your head. The thought of Cassie with someone else made you want to vomit, but it was good if there was someone else. That gave you a clear opening, a chance. 

But you couldn’t ask Dana or someone else without putting them on your radar. The last thing you needed was to have someone take it straight to her. You didn’t want to create the possibility of her never speaking to you again. 

And even if she had a girlfriend in the past, would she go for you? 

That was the question that always sat in the back of your head. Even as she whispered to you that you were her favorite. Even as she put that hand around your waist, the action you’ve never seen done on anyone else. 

Even now, the question lies there, unanswered. 

She would always complain about her ex husband, Chad, and his new girlfriend. Something about cradle robbing. 

It always made you laugh, but you never thought about it. But now that you are, that question— that overbearing question in the back of your head all but disappears. 

She wouldn’t. Because you were the same age as Chad's girlfriend. A few months younger, give or take. 

It would be hypocritical of her, you thought. It’s wrong. You know this. But you can’t help yourself. 

Maybe, just maybe—

“You okay?” The rasp of Cassie’s voice pulls you out of your head. You lock eyes with her, and it feels like you’re staring into an ocean. 

“Yeah— yeah.” You shrug it off, looking around for Dennis. You could’ve sworn he was right here, talking to you. His voice distant while you thought over everything. 

“Who are you looking for, sweetheart?” She tries to gain your attention back, her hand rubbing a soft circle over your shoulder blade. 

“Denni— uh, Dr. Whitaker.” You say. “He was right here, I thought.” 

“I think you might be imagining things.” Cassie winks, using a playful tone of voice. 

“No, we were together all day.” You sound sure, and Cassie laughs. 

“I believe you, don’t worry.” Her arm slides across your upper back, her hand resting on your opposite shoulder, pulling your side flush against her. Her hand leaves heat across your back, your body reminding you Cassie touched you there. 

You were sure it wouldn’t leave you until long after you were at home, showered and in bed. 

“You were just standing here when I found you. You looked a little out of it. Like your first day, when I found you.” She reminds you, and a smile spreads across your face at the memory. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with me today.” You shake your head, pressing your lips together into a straight line. “I had a good night, I’m not really sure why I keep spacing out.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. You were spacing out. But you knew the exact cause. And it was wrapped around your shoulder. 

“Maybe you should go home tonight and crawl right into bed.” She suggests, pulling you with her towards the locker room, your body still against hers. 

You notice a smile cross a nurse's face as the two of you walk by. But when you look at Cassie, you see she didn’t even notice. She’s wrapped in her own little world with you, her attention on you. 

“Yeah. Maybe.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you both fit through the doorframe. 

She leaves your side to grab her belongings, and you were right, the sparked heat across your back doesn’t leave. And you don’t think it will. 

You stare at her, wondering if she felt the same feeling across her palm, up her arm. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She frowns at you, her arm coming back up to squeeze your bicep. 

“Yeah. Yes.” You reassure. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince—yourself, or Cassie. “Just.. a little out of it today.” 

“Okay.. well,” She sighs, her chin dipping to look down at you. You saw her do it to Harrison once, motherly instinct. 

You wonder if that’s what this is. That you got it all wrong, the feeling you have towards her. Maybe it was just the feeling of being cared about that lured you in. Maybe there was no romantic attraction. 

Because that’s what Cassie’s face is telling you right now. 

“How about you get your stuff, and I’ll walk you to your car?” Cassie suggests. 

“Sure.” You nod. 

You hastily grab your belongings. It’s not much. Just a small bag for today. It was warm out this morning, so you don’t have a coat with you. 

You swing your bag over your shoulder, walking out with Cassie. 

When you get outside, Cassie’s hand snakes around your waist, and a chill goes down your spine. 

You aren’t sure if it’s from the sudden drop in temperature, the cool night air grazing over your skin, or if it’s Cassie’s hand squeezing the skin of your hip. 

“Are you cold?” Her hand runs up your spine, and you shiver again. Yeah, it was definitely from her. “Where’s your jacket?”

“I don’t have one.” You mumble. 

“Well, here, take mine.” She unwraps it from around her arm, moving to help you shrug into it. 

Once her hand leaves you, the feeling of her fingers dug into your hip stays. 

“It’s okay, really.” You shake your head, but the look she gives you tells you it’s not up for debate. 

With a reluctant sigh, you let her help you into her jacket. Her jacket. 

It smells good. Like her. The woodsy smell of whatever perfume or cologne she uses twined into the fabric. 

It’s warm from where it was pulled against her body, and it feels good. It’s a little too big on you, but you don’t really care. 

This feels good, maybe a little too good. And you don’t think you’ll ever get close to what being her girlfriend feels like, but you're pretty sure this is it. So you soak it up. 

“Thank you.” Your cheeks flush, but thankfully the parking lot is too dark to see it. 

“Of course.” She smiles, but it fades the slightest bit as the two of you reach your car. “Here you are.” 

“Thank you again.” You look at her. And you feel like this is a first date. You feel like maybe you should kiss her, but you bite down on your tongue for even thinking that. 

“You don’t have to thank me. We do this every night.” She reminds you. “It’s practically a ritual.” 

A laugh comes out of you, and you just nod. Afraid of what might come out of your mouth if you try to respond. 

You turn to take the jacket off, but she pulls the sleeve back up your arm before it can slide off your arm. 

“Keep it.” She pulls the collar in closer to your neck, and her knuckles barely touch your throat, but it makes you swallow hard. “Don’t need you getting pneumonia, now do we? Can’t have my favorite med student getting sick.” 

A look crosses your face, you’re sure of it. The only response you can muster up is, “No. We can’t.” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Both her hands find your shoulders. “We’ll be back together tomorrow, okay? Robby just.. does this sometimes. He’s usually over it in a day.” 

“Okay.” You aren’t sure what to say, but you want to stay there forever, her hands on you. 

“Good night, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

You can’t come up with a good enough response, so you just nod, one of your thumbs shooting up. 

After she pulls out of her spot with a wave, you grimace at yourself. 

A wave? Really? That’s the best you had? You drop your head onto your steering wheel, not even bothered when the stinging pain reaches the front of your head. 

You in fact, were not back with Cassie the next day. Or the day after that. 

You moved around a bit. Every other day with Mel or Dennis. 

Dennis had you today, and Joy was with Mel. Ogilvie, though, stayed put. Right in the capable hands of Cassie McKay. Right where you wanted to be. 

It was getting annoying. 

You were always with Cassie, everyone knew that. So why did you keep getting put with someone else? 

A fit of laughter came out from across the floor, and your eyes were glued to the conversation immediately. You didn’t know much about the guy, besides the fact that he was an uglier version of Dennis, that he took your spot with Cassie (not on purpose, but still), and that you swore people called him evil Whitaker. 

But right now, at this moment, you hate him. More than ever. You didn’t think it was possible for you to hate someone you’ve barely spoken three words to, but somehow you did. 

You can’t make out the conversation, all you know is that whatever he just said had Cassie keeled over in laughter. She never did that with you. 

The pit in your stomach grows further. 

She wasn’t.. replacing you, was she? 

You watch her hand shoot up to his shoulder, reaching for any form of stability. Her hand falls down to his bicep, squeezing his upper arm like she did to you a few nights ago. 

“That’s..” Cassie gasps for air, and your chest tightens. “Really, that’s a good one.” 

You want to know what’s so damn funny. You wanna walk over there and demand an answer. Watch the smile fade from his face, and the look of amusement cross Cassie’s face like always. Her eyebrows raised, mouth ajar. 

But you don’t. Because that’s unprofessional, and you’re only a med student. You don’t want to ruin your chances of not becoming an intern here next year. 

And the absolute last thing you want is to push Cassie away. 

You watch closely, almost too close, at how his hand is now grabbing onto her arm. They both laugh together, much like how Cassie and you used to. 

You become acutely aware of everywhere you’ve never touched her. 

Watching them feels like a knife twisted into your gut, going deeper and deeper with every passing second. 

Dennis bumps his arm against yours. 

“You okay?” He doesn’t get a response. You aren’t sure how to respond. Instead, his eyes track yours. 

He sees the exchange, how bad this looks, how closely their bodies are leaning towards one another. He doesn’t need to ask. He doesn’t need to know. He understands. And you're glad it’s him. 

“Come on.” Dennis says under his breath, his arms wrapping around you to move you out of their line of sight. He looks back once, just to see if they are still in close proximity. 

And when Cassie looks up, her eyes trained on the way his arms are around you, he sends her a glare. 

He takes you outside, by the trauma bay. Thankful no one is dying, and even more thankful Dana had a smoke break ten minutes ago. 

“You okay?” His head leans down, and it reminds you of how Cassie leans down to hear you better. It makes your heart break. 

“Yeah.” Your breath comes out harsh, your throat threatening to close around it. “Just..”

“I know.” His hands find your shoulders, he stands behind you. “You don’t need to tell me.” 

You can’t think of anything to say. A million thoughts racing. Your chest feels like it’s being crushed. You can’t breathe. 

Dennis comes to quickly, realizing what’s happening before you do. 

“Hey, hey.” He moves to he’s in front of you, his hands never leaving your shoulders. “Hey, y/n?”

Your eyebrows are pulled together, skin taut. Your eyes glaze over, but tears never appear. Your breath is shaky and it’s a struggle to get any air up your windpipe.

“Calm down, okay?” His hands slowly massage your shoulders. He read somewhere that physical touch helps anxiety. He can’t tell if it’s helping you or not. “Breath for me. Can you do that?” 

You shakily nod, trying your best. 

“Hey. It’s okay.” He pulls you into a hug, one arm wrapped around your upper back, his other hand holding your head against his shoulder. “Breathe with me, okay?” 

You clutch the front of his shirt, trying your best to breathe with him. Your hand feels the beat of his heart, and it helps, but only slightly. 

Neither of you are sure how long you stand out there, but all that matters to Dennis is that you’re okay again. 

He stays with his arms wrapped around you, whispering reassurances every few seconds. 

He doesn’t ask what happened, he doesn’t look at you like something's wrong with you, and he doesn’t leave your side when Cassie tries to ask you what’s wrong. He just pulls you away, because he knows that’s what you need. 

At work the next day, you request to stay with Dennis. You think Robby will deny your request, but he just shrugs and says okay. 

You’re talking with Dennis at the desk, no one else around. He gives you a softened look, but no real empathy behind his eyes. You appreciate it. 

“What did you do after work?” He grabs a tablet, getting ready to start the two of you off for today. 

“Not much.” You shrug and it feels good that the two of you can talk like this. Even after what happened yesterday. 

You were glad it was him, and not anyone else. You worried if it was someone else, you would have to leave, too embarrassed to finish your rotation off. 

If someone else picked up on what Dennis did, your time here would be done. You were sure of it. 

“I kinda just.. chilled.” 

“That’s nice.” Dennis smiles, logging into the tablet. He spares a few glances at you as the two of you keep talking. 

“Yeah. I ordered a whole pizza for myself.” You smile at the thought. “And I ate the whole thing. Which I don’t usually do. I usually eat a third of it and it rots in my fridge for a few weeks. But last night.. I guess it all caught up with me.” 

“That’s nice.. did you watch that show you like?” He peeks up from the tablet, scrolling through charts. 

“Yeah. Horrible ending, by the way.” You break into a fit of laughter, and it feels good to genuinely smile. 

“Oh man, now I really have to watch it.” He smiles. “Maybe you could come over and watch it with me. As friends, of course.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” You place a hand on his shoulder, and it feels good to be friends with someone you aren’t in love with. 

You watch as Dennis’ face falls, his smile nowhere to be found, his eyes latched onto someone behind you. You turn your head to see Cassie, two coffees in hand. 

Your chest flutters at the thought that Cassie got you coffee, but when she approaches you, you see the name on the side of it. And it looks nothing like yours. 

Something hardens in your stomach, and you have to force yourself to look away from Cassie as she comes closer to you. 

“Hey guys.” Cassie smiles, her bag over her shoulder. “Having a good morning?” 

“Yeah.” Dennis nods, going back to the tablet. He mumbles under his breath, so low you can barely hear it. “Until you showed up.” 

“Okay..” She turns her attention to you, her smile widening even further. “How are you? I saw you went outside halfway through the shift. When I came to walk you, you were gone.” 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t feel right, so you don’t. 

Ogilvie comes beside the two of you, and he reminds you of a dog. Like he knew his owner was home, pouncing and ready to play. 

“Can we help you?” Dennis looks up now, tucking the tablet beneath his arm. 

“Just waiting for Cassie.” He smiles, standing back on the heels of his feet. 

The breath feels like it’s been knocked out of your lungs. 

Cassie? 

Did he just call her Cassie? 

You thought that was only reserved for you, but apparently not. Maybe she did replace you. 

You make yourself look at her, but she isn’t looking at you. She’s passing the coffee to him, their fingers brush and you think you might pass out. You note that she didn’t make a face when he called her Cassie. Had she asked him to do that? Like with you?

“Well, have fun.” Cassie leans forward with a nod, passing both of you, not even realizing what just happened. 

“Come on.” Dennis wraps an arm around you like Cassie does. “Let’s go see Central 15.”

All you can do is nod. Like your heart wasn’t ripped from your chest. 

You avoid Cassie as much as you can. But it’s hard when you work in an emergency room and everyone’s always in close proximity. 

You had one too many encounters with Cassie and her new favorite med student, and you couldn’t take it. You told Dennis you needed a fifteen. 

He didn’t bat an eye when he told you to take your time. 

Somehow, you found your way to the roof. 

You stand far away from the ledge, just enjoying the cold night air. Your hands are stuffed in your pockets. You tilt your head back, the day finally catching up to you. 

The door swings open, and you feel yourself turning to see who it could be. 

It’s Cassie. 

She’s at your side in a minute. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” Your chest caves in at the nickname. You used to like it, it used to make your chest flutter and your cheeks heat. But now it just hurts.

“Don’t call me that.” You turn away from her, not looking at her. You can’t. You aren’t sure what you would do if you did. 

You know you’re being unfair. But you can’t help it. It was like she already made her mind up about a situation she knew nothing about. Cassie didn’t promise her anything. Didn’t promise her forever. 

She wasn’t hers. 

And somehow that thought, as it runs across her mind, hurts more than it did last week. 

“What?” Cassie breaths out, you see her move a hand to run it across your back like she always does, but you jerk away. You can see the hurt across Cassie’s face. And you hate yourself for it. “Tell me what’s going on, y/n.” 

“Nothing.” There’s no emotion in your voice, and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s never seen you like this. 

“Did I.. did I do something? To make you upset?” Her voice is small, her face contorted with so much hurt you want to kick yourself for making her look like that. 

“No.” You say it, like it’s final. 

The lie sits there between the two of you. Hard and solid. Like there’s no going back from this. 

“Well.. if there’s nothing going on.. and it has nothing to do with me..” She shakes her head, trying to figure out what’s going on. 

You wish you knew.

You don’t understand how the situation slipped out from between your fingers in the span of a week. You had it, had her, and then you didn’t. 

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is shaky. You want to tell her, want to touch her, show her what’s really happening. What’s going through your head. What your head sounds like when you look at her.

But you can’t. You’re no longer the favorite. And that’s not the problem. The problem is that this sets everything in stone. You’ll never have her. 

She tries again, to move towards you, hold you while you tell her what’s happening. But you take another step away, like she’s gonna burn you. 

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” She asks, angrily. You know if you look at her, it’ll be your tipping point. Then, it would be final. “And why won’t you look at me?” 

You turn so quickly, you think you might get whiplash. You might wake up with a sore neck. 

You took her in, and you were right. This will be your tipping point. This will be the moment that ends everything. 

Her hair is messed up, like since the moment she got out here she’s been running her hands through it aggressively. Her eyebrows are tilted towards each other, and it’s the most gut wrenching thing you’ve ever seen. There’s bags under her eyes, like she hasn’t slept in days, but you saw her this morning and she looked fine. Her mouth is tilted down, into a permanent frown. And her eyes. The dark ocean blue is now flooded with tears. 

“Because I’m afraid of what I might say.” You clench your jaw, you don’t want to say anything. Do anything. You want to finish out the last thirty minutes of your shift so you can go. 

You want to drown yourself in sorrow, a fresh bottle of wine waiting for you on your counter. You want to watch Friends reruns and laugh at something that’s not even funny. 

But you don’t want to be here. If it had been last week, maybe. But now, you want to be out of here. 

“What does that mean?” She shakes her head. “I miss you. I need you, y/n.” 

Your heart hurts. So bad. 

You want to believe her, want to trust what she’s saying is true. But it’s not. Not in the way you pray for.

“Maybe.” You let out a gust of air, your proximity so close now that her bangs move when you breathe out. “But not in the way I want.” 

“What does that mean?” She repeats, but this time her voice breaks, and so do you. 

A tear slips down your face, and it takes everything in you to say, "You know what it means.” 

“I miss having you around, y/n. You’re my favorite, you know that.” She shudders. “No one’s like you.” 

“Sure. But it’s pretty damn close.” You watch the words hit her, and you take another breath before you walk past her, almost out of reach. Her hand shoots out at the last second, grabbing your wrist with so much force that your back where you started. 

“What are you talking about?” She asks, determination on her face. 

“You know.” Your voice has a hardened edge to it, like a double edged sword, cutting right through both of you. 

“Spell it out for me.” She says. 

“You replaced me. I’m replaceable. I’ve always known that. I'm nobody. One snap of the finger, and I’m done here.” Her grip loosens, arm falling back to her side. “We both know that. I’m young. And I was stupid. So fucking stupid. That I really thought..” 

“No—“ 

“You’ve found my replacement, and you’ve made it pretty damn clear. You found someone who understands you the way I never will. Touches you the way I’ll never get the chance to.” You turn, but pause before you go back downstairs. “Even if I want it to be me.” 

She watches in silence, the admission hanging in the air. The information is there, puzzle pieces out on the table. But for once, she doesn’t know what to do with them. 

When you get back downstairs, you realize that it’s basically time to leave. You took longer than fifteen, but Dennis doesn’t say anything. He just smiles and walks with you. 

You both get dressed in silence. 

You wonder if he saw Cassie come up to the roof, if he let it happen. You wonder if he’s beating himself up over the way you look. 

But when you look over, he smiles, reassuringly. 

“Hey, you wanna.. come over tonight? You look like you could use a friend.” He offers, knowing you won’t take it. But he tried anyway. You can’t say he never tried. 

“No.” You shake your head. “I think I just want to be alone tonight.” 

“Alright.” He shuts his locker, walking out of the room with you behind him. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“Thank you.” The lump in your throat has dulled down to a small ache. “It means a lot.” 

He walks with you outside, but you have to split ways because Trinity parks on the side of the road. Your car is in the parking lot, and you have to walk the rest of the way without a mental breakdown. Seems easy. 

When you reach your ancient car, the one you’ve had for years, you reach for your keys. You don’t look up as you fumble for the key to unlock it. 

When you look up, you're met with Cassie’s sad face, and it feels like God wants to punish you. 

“Dr. McKay—“

“Let me talk.” Cassie’s hand is out, and it makes you halt. Her knuckles are red and bleeding, like she hit something. 

“Wh—“ 

“Let me.” She pleads, and she isn’t leaving any room for you to speak. So all you do is nod. “I was the one that asked for you to be removed from my rotation.” 

The ache is back, present more than ever. You can’t breathe around it, can’t swallow. You feel bile rise in the back of your throat. 

“I thought maybe.. I don’t know what I thought. But I wanted to try with another med student. I thought maybe..” She stops herself, like she can’t believe she’s about to admit this. 

“You thought what?” You ask warily, your voice wobbly. Your hands shake at your side, and you have to clench them into fists. 

“That it felt like this with everyone. I needed a change of pace. And it was wrong. And I know it was.” She takes a deep breath. 

“What do you mean?” Now you’re the one begging for answers, not knowing where to get them. You try her face, but it’s like stone, nothing to find. 

“I thought if I tried with Ogilvie, that maybe he would make my heart flutter the way you do. That my hands burned with anticipation to touch him again.. the way you do.” She pauses. “But it didn’t. I felt.. terrible. I wanted to get away from him. But when I asked to change you back, Robby said it was good to have a change in the rotation.” 

“So.. you lied to me?” Your heart breaks for a new reason now, and you need out of there. Now. You try to move around her, fumbling for the key with shaking hands. 

“y/n. Wait.” The desperation in her voice makes you stop. Makes you listen. “I tried to get you back. But the more time that went on, I got to thinking. Maybe this is good. Maybe I shouldn’t get so attached to you. Trapped in a situation I have no control over. But I couldn’t work. I couldn’t sleep.” 

You scoff, tugging Cassie’s jacket further into your neck. Just like she did a few days ago.

Your movement doesn’t go unnoticed by her, and that’s when the flicker of realization flashes. That’s her jacket. And you were still wearing it. It brings her newfound sense of hope.

“And I know how this sounds. How hypocritical I am. With.. Chad. But I want you so bad it’s hard to breathe without you.” She puts her hand out, touching your face, and relief washes over her when you let her. “I.. want you. Not as my med student. But as someone to keep. Someone who means something to me.”

“You.. what?” Your chest breaks open, and you aren’t sure if it’s from hurt or from hearing the words you’ve been waiting months to hear. 

“You heard me.” She nods with finality. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.” You don’t think twice, you just dive in. And it’s messy, not coordinated. 

Noses bumping together, teeth clashing, tongues fighting. You push her further into the side of your car, and the sound she lets out in heaven to your ears. 

“y/n.” She gasps when you leave her lips, biting and sucking down her neck. “Wait.” 

You don’t stop, just keep kissing her, no point in stopping when she’s all you’ve ever wanted. And you have her. You finally have her. 

“Wait.” She says, pulling you off her but not enough that there’s noticeable space between you. “I’m not done yet.” 

“Okay.” Your eyes look at her lips, red and swollen. 

“I need to know that you want this too.” Her eyes are searching, full of insecurity, worry. “Tell me you won’t regret this.” 

“I won’t. God, Cass, you have no clue how long I’ve waited. How long I’ve thought about this.” 

“So he was right.” She laughs out loud, that loud drawn out cackle that you love so much. “Ogilvie.” 

A look of disgust crosses your face, your lips turning down in a grimace. 

“He said you were jealous. That day when Whitaker pulled you away. When he took you outside. That’s what we were laughing about.” She explains it like it was obvious. Like it was stupid if you thought otherwise. 

“Oh.” Is all you have to say. 

“Oh? Did you think something else?” She frowns. 

“I thought a lot of different things. But that one never crossed my mind.” You admit. 

“I tried to follow after the two of you, but Whitaker stared into my soul. He mouthed ‘don’t’, and I didn’t follow. And like I said, I tried to find you after shift, but you were gone.” She explains, her hand curling into your hair. 

“I.. didn’t know what to think. Like I said, I thought you replaced me. Thought you had a new favorite—“

Her lips attach to yours, but this time it isn’t rough and needy. It's soft, like she’s been longing to do it. 

“I’ll make it up to you.” She pulls you into a hug, so you are flush against her. When she pulls away, she tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “How about we start with dinner? And we go from there.. hm?”

“Sounds good.” You become acutely aware of where you are. “But I really want a shower. And a new change of clothes.” 

She looks down too, a laugh coming out of her throat. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think that through too well, did I?” She smiles awkwardly. “Okay, new plan: we go back to my place, take a long bath, and order in.” 

“Sounds like the best plan I’ve ever heard.” You smile and let her pull you in for one more kiss. 

You find the key to your car, going to unlock it, but her hand finds yours. 

“What are you doing?” She looks confused, like she told you what to do on a procedure, and you did the exact opposite. 

“Getting in my car to drive to your place?” You ask, second guessing yourself, but that wasn’t the right answer. 

“No. I’m driving.” She takes your keys, tucking them into her pocket. “Let’s go.” 

She holds the door open for you, and you think, if this is what it’s like to be with Cassie, you weren’t too far off.