#empitthy

@empitthy

genevieve stood at the sink, scrubbing with surgical precision, though her face remained untouched by urgency. her movements were efficient, elegant; there was no telling that less than thirty minutes ago, a man who should’ve died from blunt force trauma to the chest was now breathing evenly in room 14. no coding, no resuscitation. no explanation. and it wasn't a miracle; just a little of her blood, slipped into the iv bag when no one was looking. she dried her hands and reached for the crisp white coat to her right, making her way down the hall until she reached the breakroom. 'dr. mohan,' genevieve greeted softly, appearing in the doorway like a shadow coaxed into form. 'you stayed late again,' there was no judgment in her tone, only observation — a habit from a lifetime of watching humans. her voice was calm, with that faint, unplaceable accent that curled around her words like silk. she crossed the room, her steps quiet, her features inscrutable. 'i have to wonder when it is you sleep. i cannot imagine it is very often,' @empitthy.

❝ no, ❞ he confesses as he presses a kiss to her temple. he inhales the scent of her hair. emil tilts his head and kisses her cheek as well. his hand is at her neck, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the soft skin. ❝ i tried, ❞. he whispers, his mouth close enough to hers now that their lips brush when he speaks. ❝ i followed...so many people. none of them deserved it. ❞ emil moves his hand, curls his fingers beneath the strap of her backpack so he can gently ease it off her shoulder for her. ❝ have you? ❞

waking up, his head feels so damn groggy - but he knows that squeeze of his hand, albeit, it's tighter than it ever has. she was there. so before he even opens his eyes, he's smiling. he made it home - back to his family. "hi beautiful," he whispers through a hoarse voice, weakly giving her hand a squeeze back. "hey," tilting her head with his eyes open. she looked so tired, and sad. one look he was used to, and one that he decides he hates. one he wants to change into a smile or laugh as soon as possible. "i love you. come here," holding out his other hand, the one hooked up to the iv - but he wants his girl for cuddles. "i don't care what your doctor brain thinks, come get your cuddles, sami." tapping the bed once as he scoots - with a wince.

she tugged the dressing gown down, like that could make the letters and numbers go away. like every doctor and nurse working in that emergency room hadn't heard what happened to her, like they weren't all out there at the nurse's station whispering about her tattoo. arms wrapped around her middle, making herself smaller. maybe if she shrunk herself enough, she could just . . . disappear. maybe she wanted to. she was happy it was samira that came to check on her this time. "i'm fine," she lied, looking at the monitor like she knew what any of the lines or numbers meant. it was easier than looking at her . . . maybe doctor mohan wasn't her friend. they didn't know each other outside of passing in the hospital. but she was so friend shaped. she stared at the monitor too long and the only numbers she saw on it were 120919. so she looked at samira instead.

"doctor mohan, have you tried the breakfast mimosas yet?" maybe she was off duty. maybe she was tipsy - this seems, out of pocket for someone so polite ... someone who bleeds empathy daily. but maybe he deserved it. ( he knows he does ) and maybe he's actually happy for it. happy that lucy has a friend who would come to honors in the middle of a damn breakfast.

eileen slipped through the side entrance of the er just after midnight, her hoodie zipped up to hide the blood seeping through her shirt. she moved like someone used to pain — efficient and silent, a little too calm. when she spotted samira down the hallway, her shoulders eased by a fraction. no questions, no raised eyebrows — just help; that's what she needed, right now. eileen approached, tugging the edge of her sleeve up to sign, < got clipped. silver blade, not mine. can you take a look? > then, with a faint, tired smile, she says, 'and maybe not put it in the system this time?' @empitthy ; liked.

maybe it was a bad thing to bring up their kids right now. the same ones who'd look at his booboo and possibly cry. he could not handle the triple sets of doe eyes looking at him like that. impossible. so he tilts his head, leaning in to kiss her forehead. no curl out today. which meant it might've been a quiet day so far. "i saved a kid - it was worth it." it wasn't a hero trick, he hadn't just been reckless without a cause. he'd saved a life - a life of someone who was devi's age - and if that wasn't worth it? he doesn't know what is.