Under the Sea 🌊

giving dennis POTS real quick lol. yayyyy dennis whump!

it really wasn’t a big deal. he didn’t need to tell them.

the idea of trinity, jack, and robby caring about his electrolytes, heat tolerance, fuck, his rest, was simply too much. he could deal with it on his own. he had gotten this far without anyone realizing. he didn’t need to burden them.

it was a brutal summer day, though. the AC just wasn’t cutting it and they were busy as hell. dennis had tried to remember to drink water. he had tried to eat and remember his sodium. but there he was at the nurses station, feeling a familiar, overwhelming, cold heaviness, followed by the jack-rabbiting of his heart and a crawling heat.

fuck, he had to sit down. just a second. sitting would fix this.

all the chairs were taken, so he slid his back down on the desk, folding so his knees were pressed to his chest. his head bobbed forward, vision going blurry.

dennis heard things move around him. trinity must’ve been the first to notice because he felt a hand shaking his shoulder and heard her voice say, “dennis, what’s going on?”

heavy footsteps approached. “shit, is he ok.”

“i don’t know.” she grabbed her face, feeling the sweat and dead weight. “he just…folded.”

dennis tried to talk, tried to tell them not to worry, that it would correct on its own. he couldn’t. it came out incoherent, barely making any noise.

“shit, shit, shit! gurney! we need a gurney!”

dennis didn’t pass out all the way. it was just sort of hazy and out of his control.

he somehow got vertical and on an exam table and it started to clear. they were taking his blood pressure, trying to find a vein, palpating his stomach. he was attempting to move his mouth to tell them it wasn’t a big deal. they didn’t need to do all this.

it was when they were threatening to cut his scrub top off with trauma shears that he surfaced.

dennis’s eyes cleared, his sweat started drying. “POTS.” he mumbled.

“honey, what?” princess asked, leaning closer.

“POTS,” dennis said stronger. “i have POTS. it’s fine. just…need stuff.” he couldn’t verbalize what exactly he needed, but they would figure it out. he was sure. he felt a surge of emotions about how much he loved these people. he started tearing up.

trinity squawked while putting her stethoscope back around her neck. “why didn’t you tell me, dumbass?”

dennis curled away from the yelling. why was everyone acting like this? “‘t’s not a big deal.”

robby rubbed his forehead and let out a big sigh. “dennis, you passed out on shift. it’s a big deal.”

“‘m fine. just…need a sec.” dennis pressed a clumsy hand to his cheek, slapping it a couple times, hoping to bring himself to awareness.

“ok, everybody out!” robby ordered. dennis felt trinity stay. he didn’t understand how he knew that until he realized it was her hand on him still. he fumbled his own towards it, until they latched together. “trinity…” robby almost told her to leave.

dennis felt fear run through him. “emergency contact,” he squeezed her weakly, “stay.”

“dennis, why didn’t you disclose this?” robby questioned.

“i…” dennis tried to sit up but robby pushed him back down with a hand on his chest. “it’s fine.” dennis swallowed. “i’m fine,” he said tearfully.

trinity gestured to dennis with her free hand. “you know POTS episodes make people disoriented and emotional after. let him recover.”

robby nodded, feeling chastised. he was just so worried. was every resident hiding something from him? dennis was his boyfriend for fuck’s sake! they should know these things about each other!

robby moved his thumb. he was still pressed against dennis’s sternum for whatever reason. “you’re benched until you get a full work up. and i’m getting you a cardiology consult right now.” dennis tried to object. robby didn’t let him. “you will have brain fog for the next day and you’re not practicing like that. just let me do this. i’ll go you an IV going.”

dennis reluctantly agreed. robby left to call his buddy down and arrange the IV. trinity waited until they were alone before punching his arm. hard.

giving dennis POTS real quick lol. yayyyy dennis whump!

it really wasn’t a big deal. he didn’t need to tell them.

the idea of trinity, jack, and robby caring about his electrolytes, heat tolerance, fuck, his rest, was simply too much. he could deal with it on his own. he had gotten this far without anyone realizing. he didn’t need to burden them.

it was a brutal summer day, though. the AC just wasn’t cutting it and they were busy as hell. dennis had tried to remember to drink water. he had tried to eat and remember his sodium. but there he was at the nurses station, feeling a familiar, overwhelming, cold heaviness, followed by the jack-rabbiting of his heart and a crawling heat.

fuck, he had to sit down. just a second. sitting would fix this.

all the chairs were taken, so he slid his back down on the desk, folding so his knees were pressed to his chest. his head bobbed forward, vision going blurry.

dennis heard things move around him. trinity must’ve been the first to notice because he felt a hand shaking his shoulder and heard her voice say, “dennis, what’s going on?”

heavy footsteps approached. “shit, is he ok.”

“i don’t know.” she grabbed her face, feeling the sweat and dead weight. “he just…folded.”

dennis tried to talk, tried to tell them not to worry, that it would correct on its own. he couldn’t. it came out incoherent, barely making any noise.

“shit, shit, shit! gurney! we need a gurney!”

dennis didn’t pass out all the way. it was just sort of hazy and out of his control.

he somehow got vertical and on an exam table and it started to clear. they were taking his blood pressure, trying to find a vein, palpating his stomach. he was attempting to move his mouth to tell them it wasn’t a big deal. they didn’t need to do all this.

it was when they were threatening to cut his scrub top off with trauma shears that he surfaced.

dennis’s eyes cleared, his sweat started drying. “POTS.” he mumbled.

“honey, what?” princess asked, leaning closer.

“POTS,” dennis said stronger. “i have POTS. it’s fine. just…need stuff.” he couldn’t verbalize what exactly he needed, but they would figure it out. he was sure. he felt a surge of emotions about how much he loved these people. he started tearing up.

trinity squawked while putting her stethoscope back around her neck. “why didn’t you tell me, dumbass?”

dennis curled away from the yelling. why was everyone acting like this? “‘t’s not a big deal.”

robby rubbed his forehead and let out a big sigh. “dennis, you passed out on shift. it’s a big deal.”

“‘m fine. just…need a sec.” dennis pressed a clumsy hand to his cheek, slapping it a couple times, hoping to bring himself to awareness.

“ok, everybody out!” robby ordered. dennis felt trinity stay. he didn’t understand how he knew that until he realized it was her hand on him still. he fumbled his own towards it, until they latched together. “trinity…” robby almost told her to leave.

dennis felt fear run through him. “emergency contact,” he squeezed her weakly, “stay.”

“dennis, why didn’t you disclose this?” robby questioned.

“i…” dennis tried to sit up but robby pushed him back down with a hand on his chest. “it’s fine.” dennis swallowed. “i’m fine,” he said tearfully.

trinity gestured to dennis with her free hand. “you know POTS episodes make people disoriented and emotional after. let him recover.”

robby nodded, feeling chastised. he was just so worried. was every resident hiding something from him? dennis was his boyfriend for fuck’s sake! they should know these things about each other!

robby moved his thumb. he was still pressed against dennis’s sternum for whatever reason. “you’re benched until you get a full work up. and i’m getting you a cardiology consult right now.” dennis tried to object. robby didn’t let him. “you will have brain fog for the next day and you’re not practicing like that. just let me do this. i’ll go you an IV going.”

dennis reluctantly agreed. robby left to call his buddy down and arrange the IV. trinity waited until they were alone before punching his arm. hard.

Turns out, Hail Mary has one of the most beautiful, hopeful endings I have ever known. An ending I would've never gotten to see if I had chosen to stop when I was afraid.

He dated a girl in high school. She was fun, everyone thought so. Super animated, with strong opinions and she always wanted to do stuff. Yeah, sometimes she got a little too animated, but it happened. And yeah, sometimes Buck stood a little too close and she'd hit him, but she was so small and he was so big, and really, she didn't mean to hit him. Not like that.

Buck himself wasn't that great. For a few years, he got blackout drunk whenever he got the chance, but it wasn't a weekly, let alone daily, thing. A little too often, maybe, but he was young! That's what you do when you're young! And sure, there were a lot of alchohol he couldn't touch even now, because it tasted like vomit in his mouth.

But he handled that and he didn't do that anymore. Except for that one date with Tommy, where Tommy wanted to be adventurous and got a mixed drink, and when he kissed Buck, it took a lot of effort to not gag directly into Tommy's mouth.

But the alcohol was largely a non-issue.

The cheating was an issue. God, the cheating was a big fucking issue. Tommy worked with Lucy. If he didn't already know, surely he'd know eventually. If Tommy knew Buck was a cheater, would that be a dealbreaker? It should be, right? Mature people thought cheating was bad. Of course cheating was bad, but there's bad and then there's bad. Bad as in I never want to see you again bad.

Buck had to admit it wasn't the first time. He'd never had sex with someone, but there had been kisses. He'd never initiated! But that probably didn't matter in terms of unfaithfulness. Someone had kissed him, someone he wasn't dating.

He had a string of girlfriends who probably wouldn't call him their boyfriend. Really, they only wanted one thing, but Buck wanted that, too, so he didn't look at it too closely. Having something was better than nothing.

Besides, he was good at it. He was great at sex. He never came first, could always get it up when he needed to, always willing to experiment and try everything twice.

And sure, things got a little complicated once he made it to LA. Being a first responder put him in a lot of vulnerable situations, with a lot of vulnerable people, but he also met a lot of people! The lines were all kinds of blurry, which made it hard to navigate sometimes, but he did his best. Looking back, maybe he could've been a better boyfriend to Abby, Ali and Taylor, but he doesn't know what he could've done different.

Sometimes he thought about that therapist, the one he'd slept with. He was older now, but he still wasn't sure why it left a bad taste in his mouth, especially all these years later. One time he thought about it too hard, which had him dry heaving? Which felt like a weird reaction? Especially so long after the fact. He definitely shouldn't have had sex with her, but it was just a dumb thing he did.

He's not the same guy anymore. He's really, really not the same person. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and the sight of himself gives him pause, because in his mind, he's still the lanky kid who arrived in LA, and all this, the muscles and the scars, none of that feels permanent, not in the way it should. It's like the kid Maddie left behind can't seem to be overwritten. He's somehow stuck in time and unmoored all at once. His sense of self is all over the place. When someone tells him he is something, whether that's a hero or kind or smart or annoying, he takes it as gospel, because who is he to say what he is? Tommy calls him kid and Buck thinks, sure. On bad days he feels ancient, but this is the oldest he's ever been and if Tommy thinks that's young, maybe it is. And it's not like Tommy is the only one who calls him that.

And he knows bad things have happened to him, but they don't feel real. How is he supposed to conceptualise dying when he doesn't remember what it felt like to not be alive. Most days he doesn't remember what it felt like to be pinned under the ladder truck, or the recovery from that. He remembers what the painkillers felt like, how alone he felt, how scared he was, how sore his throat was from screaming – but it still feels like it happened to someone else. The dreams he has about it feel more real than the actual event.

All of these things start swirling around in his head, and they don't stop. He gets distracted at work, which is very not good, and when Bobby asks, Buck doens't know what to say. He can't sit in Bobby's office and tell him he missed a step today, because he was thinking about how bad of a person he is and how he shouldn't be anyone's partner, let alone Tommy's, who he has a date with tomorrow night.

It gets so bad that Tommy is the one who sits them down and tells him, ”If you don't want to be with me, you can tell me. I want you to tell me.”

And Buck shuts down. He sits there, eyes on the floor, nowhere near Tommy, and says, ”I think I'm a bad boyfriend.”

And Tommy sits there, like, ”Excuse me?” because Buck is a fantastic boyfriend. He listens and learns and cares and goes out of his way all the time. He's been distant lately, but even when he's distant, he still shows up.

Buck is the one who nearly blows up the whole thing. He stumbles through a long and tangled explanation, with twists and turns he doesn't mean to take.

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Pitt (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Brendon “The Shark” Park/Dennis Whitaker Characters: Dennis Whitaker, Brendon “The Shark” Park Additional Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Omega, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Alpha Brendon “The Shark” Park, Omega Dennis Whitaker, Soft Brendon “The Shark” Park, Trauma Recovery, Dennis Whitaker Needs a Hug, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Roughness, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hope vs. Despair Summary:

Stupid. He’s so fucking stupid. Of course he knows. He knows how this ends. He knows what alphas want from omegas like him. Still, it can’t be worse than before. After all, it’s only one alpha.

The one who owns him now. The one who can do whatever he wants with him.

He doesn’t cry. Maybe he should. Maybe now, while he’s alone, while no one is watching, would be the safest time. But the tears never come.

○•●•○

He eventually gets a few tricks up his sleeve that only Trinity is aware of. Until he and the girls go out, and Trinity tells him to show off his secret trick.

He manages to get a drink rather quickly, and when he gets back to the table, Mel, Samira, and Victoria cheer him on. But when Samira downplays his talents, Trinity bets her $50 that she could choose any man in the bar, and Dennis could get a drink from them.

Samira takes Trinity up on the offer, and, much to Dennis' horror, finds and chooses Dr. Robby as Dennis' target.

He can't easily say no to Trinity, so he saunters his way over to his boss, wondering how to get out of it, only to confess the entire situation to Robby.

Robby simply says, "I'll buy you a drink, but you're going to have to earn it."

Dennis nearly faints at the words, but he eventually finds himself up for the challenge of finding out what tactic will work best on his boss. It's a catastrophically horrible idea on both their parts, but it's just a drink. Right?

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