#dennis

You roll your eyes at your best friend's actions and stand up to go knock on her door, feet padding against the hard wood floors. As you approach, you begin to hear the sounds of the two of them kissing and immediately turn around, sighing again. You glance over to the other bedroom door, light seeping through the crack at the bottom. Dennis’s room. You’d gotten to a decently friendly level with him, speaking briefly whenever you would come over and he was in the kitchen or living room area, but that was the extent of your relationship, for your own good. Trinity would kill you if she knew about the teeny tiny little crush you'd been harboring on her roommate, but it's almost 2 in the morning and she's left you with no blankets and no other choice, so you knock softly on his door. You hear him shuffle around for a moment, before he slowly opens the door, being careful to not let it creak.

“Hi.” he whispers.

“Hi” you respond, simply staring at him for a moment. His hair is a bit tousled, you can tell he's been running his fingers through it. He wears the same constantly tired look he always has, but he somehow looks even more tired now. Past his shoulder you can see into his mostly bare room, and you realize you’ve been silently staring at him for a few seconds too long. You clear your throat before continuing. “Uh sorry… I was just wondering if you had any extra blankets or something. I guess Trinity has a friend over or something so I’m probably just gonna crash on the couch, but she didn’t leave me any blankets and this place gets so cold at night, and you obviously know that because you live here. Sorry.”

He blinks at you, taking in your rambling. Always the gentleman, Dennis knows that you should never let a lady sleep on the couch when you have a perfectly good bed. 

“You can sleep in here.” It comes out a lot more confident than anything Dennis has ever said to you, and you blink, still half asleep.

“What?”

“In my bed?” He struggles to explain what he means.

“But you’re sleeping there?” You question, cocking your head to the side, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. Dennis can’t help but think you look adorable like this, hair slightly messy from how you were laying on it, eyes still sleepy. But you still look as beautiful as ever. Something about the late hour seems to make Dennis more confident around you, usually he can feel the heat rising to his face, but in this moment he feels completely normal. 

“I can take the couch.” He offers.

You laugh, and he looks at you confused. 

“This is such a cliche huckleberry.” You step past him standing in the doorway as his eyes follow you. Seeing you in his space, walking around so comfortably makes him feel even more relaxed, but he's still confused.

“What?”

“We can just share. If that’s okay with you. Unless you're repulsed by the thought of sleeping with me?” You offer. He raises an eyebrow. You feel your face heat up. “I obviously didn’t mean it like that.”

He laughs before stepping fully into the room, you sit down on the corner of his bed as he closes the door.

“Yeah, we can share. Are you good if I turn off the lights?” He asks.

You nod, scooching your body to the top of the bed, and making yourself comfortable underneath the warm blankets on his bed that smell just like him. He flicks off the lights and steps over to the bed, climbing under the covers next to you. You turn on your side to face him to see he's already looking at you. 

“Thanks.” You whisper.

“Of course.” He responds, and the two of you fall into a brief silence, simply looking at each other. You shiver again, somehow his warm sheets not fully protecting you from the cool air, and maybe just maybe you exaggerated it a little bit. Dennis reacts by tentatively placing an arm around your waist, and softly moving your body closer to his. You feel your heartbeat increasing as he looks at you tiredly, and you reach up your hand to move a hair out of his eyes.

“I think I might have a bit of a crush on you.” You whisper, letting your confession sit between you.

“I think I have a big crush on you.” He whispers back, your faces inches apart.

“Yeah I was downplaying it.” You say.

“Can I..?” He nods his head down towards your lips. You nod. He slowly leans forward, rustling the sheets beneath him and presses his lips softly against yours. It's brief, but it's sweet. He pulls away, and you continue to play with his hair as you lean in to kiss him once more.

“Goodnight Dennis.” You whisper against his lips. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a similar one on yours as you close your eyes and begin to drift off in his arms. Tomorrow morning, Trinity will walk into her living room and notice you aren’t on the couch like she assumed you would be. But that is a problem for tomorrow morning, because right now you feel perfectly content with your legs tangled with Dennis’s in his bed.

at first, nobody in the er really noticed.

THE PITT was always loud. monitors beeping, phones ringing, hurried footsteps against the floor, stretchers and gurneys squeaking down hallways. weather didn’t really matter much when people kept arriving bleeding, coughing, crashing.

but around one in the morning, the waiting room televisions switched from late-night reruns to emergency weather alerts.

by two, nurses were muttering about road closures.

by three, the hospital administration sent out the inevitable message:

SEVERE WEATHER CONDITIONS. ESSENTIAL STAFF ONLY. REMAIN INSIDE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

the collective groan from the er could probably be heard from another city.

dennis looked up from the chart in with tired eyes.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“you say that like you were going home anyway,” santos retorted , shoving past him with a stack of supplies balanced against her hip.

dennis flipped her off weakly.

she grinned.

“you look terrible, whitaker.”

“i feel terrible.”

“you always feel terrible.”

“fair.”

you snorted quietly from beside the nurses’ station, earning a tired glance from dennis.

it wasn’t much of a glance.

just half a second.

but lately you’d started noticing the small things about him.

the way he leaned against counters when exhausted, like his body somehow forgot how to hold itself upright.

the dark circles under his eyes that never really disappeared.

how he rubbed the back of his neck whenever he was stressed.

how gentle his hands became with patients despite how rough he acted with himself.

and well, recently.. how his eyes kept finding yours in crowded rooms.

like he was checking you were still there.

you looked away before he could catch you staring.

the storm got worse by 5am.

snow hammered against the hospital windows in thick piles, turning the parking lot into hills of white. the few staff members who’d attempted leaving came back just around twenty minutes later covered in snow.

so everyone stayed.

ellis and shen stole naps in break rooms.

abbot and cruz fought over stale vending machine snacks.

princess started a betting pool over how long the power grid would survive.

and dennis had been awake for almost twenty-two hours by then.

you could see it in the way he moved slower now, exhaustion following his every move.

still, he refused to stop.

“come one. you need a break,” you told him after catching him rereading the same sentence three times.

“i’m fine.”

“didn’t you almost walk into a wall ten minutes ago?”

“i was thinking.”

“you apologized. to the WALL.”

dennis blinked at you.

“…did i?”

“mhm.”

“oh.”

you bit back a smile.

he looked unfairly soft when sleep deprived.

not that you’d ever admit that out loud. god, it was too embarrassing

by evening, the er finally settled into something quieter.

not calm though.

the pitt was never calm. everyone knew that well.

but instead, it shifted into something quieter.

the fluorescent lights dimmed slightly overhead, casting everything in muted gold and pale blue shadows. the snow continued falling outside, thick against the glass.

you found dennis standing near the coffee machine staring into space.

not drinking coffee.

just staring at it.

“that bad?” you asked softly.

he startled slightly before exhaling.

“i think my body’s shutting down.”

“yeah- well, probably because you know, HUMANS need sleep.”

“maybe.”

“you’re losing cognitive function, dennis.”

“that implies i had some to begin with.”

you laughed softly.

and something in dennis’s expression loosened at the sound.

‘fuck.’ you thought to yourself.

that kept happening too.

like hearing you laugh physically relaxed him.

and well- yeah. you cant deny that it made your heart skip a beat, no matter how ‘highschool’ that sounded.

you nudged his shoulder lightly.

“come sit down for five minutes.”

“i can’t.”

“you absolutely can.”

“there could be—”

“whitaker.”

he stopped.

you lowered your voice slightly.

“you’re exhausted.”

for a second, he looked like he might argue.

then his shoulders sagged.

just slightly.

“five minutes,” he muttered.

“five minutes,” you agreed.

the waiting room was nearly empty.

a few people slept slumped across chairs while snowstorm coverage played quietly on the mounted television overhead.

you and dennis claimed a corner near the windows.

he sat beside you with a groan, scrubbing both hands down his face.

“everything hurts.”

“isn’t that usually a bad sign in a hospital?”

“uh-huh. yeah thanks,i’ll chart that.”

you handed him the bag of pretzels you’d stolen from the vending machine earlier.

he looked at them.

then at you.

“you remembered i like these?”

the question came out quieter than expected.

you shrugged casually even though warmth crept into your face.

“uh yeah, you eat them every shift.”

“huh.”

he looked strangely affected by that.

like nobody remembered small things about him often.

the thought made your chest ache.

for a while, neither of you spoke.

just sat there listening to the distant hum of the hospital.

dennis’s knee brushed yours occasionally, and yours his.

neither of you moved away.

outside, snow buried the city deeper in white.

inside, the heat hummed softly through the vents.

dennis exhaled slowly beside you.

“you ever think this place feels weird during storms?”

you turned toward him slightly.

“what do you mean?”

“like…” he gestured vaguely. “everything outside just like.. stops, for a little while.”

you looked out the window.

the world beyond the glass had vanished into snowfall.

“i know what you mean.”

he leaned his head back against the wall.

“i think this is the first time i’ve sat down all day.”

“you’re welcome.”

“you bullied me into it.”

“and i’d do it again.”

a tired smile tugged at his mouth.

rare enough that your stomach flipped stupidly.

then silence settled again. not awkward silence.

the kind that only happens when someone becomes comfortable enough to exist beside you without filling every second with noise.

dennis’s arm rested against yours now. heavy with exhaustion.

you glanced sideways.

his eyes were closed.

“dennis?”

“mhm?”

“you falling asleep?”

“no.”

a pause.

“…maybe.”

you smiled softly. his head tilted slightly toward you. sleep was already pulling at him.

you’d never seen him this relaxed before.

no tension in his jaw. no stress between his brows. just tiredness. pure, overwhelming tiredness.

carefully, you shifted a little closer.

his hand rested between you on the chair.

without thinking too hard about it, you let your fingers brush his.

dennis stirred faintly.

then almost instinctively, his fingers curled around yours.

your breath caught.

he didn’t open his eyes. didn’t pull away. just held your hand like it was the easiest thing in the world.

like he’d wanted to for longer than either of you admitted. something unbearably soft settled in your chest.

you leaned your head gently against his shoulder.

dennis made the quietest sound somewhere between a sigh and contentment and shifted closer automatically.

his grip tightened slightly around your hand.

and just like that, exhaustion dragged you under too.

dana was looking for dennis when she found you both.

she stopped in the doorway.

for a long moment, she simply stared.

dennis sat slumped in the waiting room chair fast asleep, head tilted slightly toward yours.

your cheek rested against his shoulder.

one of his hands still tangled with yours between the seats.

the television flickered quietly overhead.

snowstorm light glowed pale blue through the windows.

and dennis looked peaceful.

dana couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that. the kid practically lived wound tight. always moving. always apologizing. always trying to prove himself useful enough to deserve being there.

but now?

now he looked young. safe. human.

her expression softened immediately. carefully, dana grabbed one of the spare blankets draped nearby and stepped closer.

neither of you woke as she laid it gently across both your laps.

dennis shifted slightly in his sleep, unconsciously leaning closer into you.

dana smiled despite herself.

“well,” she murmured quietly, “about damn time.”

then she walked away without waking either of you.

you woke sometime later to warmth.

not hospital warmth.

not overheated vents and fluorescent lights. real warmth. heavy warmth pressed beside you. your eyes blinked open slowly. dennis was awake.

barely.

his head rested lightly against yours now, sleepy eyes half-lidded beneath messy curls. for a second neither of you moved. then he glanced down at your intertwined hands.

still clasped together.

his ears turned pink almost instantly.

“oh.”

you smiled sleepily.

“oh?”

“i think—” he cleared his throat softly, “i think i accidentally held your hand.”

“accidentally?”

“severe weather conditions.”

“that’s your defense?”

“i’m compromised.”

you laughed quietly.

dennis looked at you like the sound alone was enough to keep him awake.

and then,

his thumb brushed once across your knuckles.

intentional this time. your heart nearly stopped. “you drool in your sleep,” you whispered.

his expression immediately changed.

“i do not.”

“you absolutely do.”

“that’s defamatory.”

“there’s evidence.”

“destroy it.”

you grinned. dennis stared at you for a moment longer, exhaustion making him softer around the edges.

less guarded. then, quietly:

“i don’t think i’ve slept that well in months.”

the honesty in his voice hit harder than expected. you squeezed his hand gently.

“maybe you just needed someone to make you rest.”

he looked down at your joined hands again. then back at you.

and with snow falling endlessly outside the hospital windows, dennis whitaker smiled like maybe just maybe he finally believed that could be true.