#two...four...six!...six!!!...times six...*sobs*

"Yoohoo!" [Name] paid no mind to the loud voice shouting as it was normal for the little town to be this lively in the morning. In the distance, he could see some of the women have their dance class like they usually do in the morning in the town's square. [Name] just assumes the shout was from one of them (probably Elaine) motivating the others as he sent a wave and politely greeted them when he passed by.

Jessie had sent a bright smile and cute wave at him. Sweetly greeting him and asking if he wanted to join in their dance class and had to [Name] politely decline as he has plans already to do today and he shouldn't be delayed. But he did promise to join another day when he isn't busy as [Name] saw Jessie's small pouting face. That girl was too cute to say no...

Lulu on the other hand had huffed, crossing her arms on top of her chest and turning her back at him as he did. [Name] had to stop himself from rolling his eyes and chuckle at her reactions.

It seems like she was still mad at him for chopping down a tree and not replanting it the other day. It wasn't his fault when he felt tired and passed out before he could replant the trees he cut down. Shaking his head, [Name] made a mental note to himself to give Lulu some mushroom soup tomorrow to have her in a better mood.

He passed by the buildings of Harvest Town to the road out of town and into South Mount where his destination was the ancient mines. Lately, he had been needing some more copper to get David to make him more water sprinklers for his farm to ease his duties.

As much as [Name] enjoyed farming, watering the crops had been such a hassle, especially after doing more tasks around town to make sure the community was happy— it was the least he can do after his first... life. This was his second chance to make sure he lived with no regrets, and at that moment [Name] needs to get copper before he regrets not doing so by the end of the week.

"Little farm owner!" [Name] stopped on his steps as his eyebrows furrowed. Someone was calling to him. [Name] knows the person shouting meant to be him as the 'little farm owner' the voice yelled, and only one person in town calls anyone that. Specifically, who calls him that.

Looking around, [Name] was confused as a small frown formed on his lips. He didn't saw the caller anywhere. Not in the plaza behind him or the entrance area of the bar nor the Resort Villa.

'Where was he?' [Name] thought as he tried to look for Andy in the area.

"Hey, up here!" [Name] did what he was told. Turning his head towards the bar, [Name] looked up to the rooftop of the building and had to double take at what he saw. Looking at the surrounding area again, [Name] looked at Andy on the rooftop and his frown faltered while [Name] was sure he was going to get a heart attack and stroke upon seeing where the redhead was.

"Andy?" Calling out to the bar owner, worry evident in [Name]'s voice as he didn't know whether to shout at Andy to get down or just fo up there and slap some sense into the usually gentle and easy going bartender was doing something dangerous like this. The said man only sent him a grin and waved his hand.

"Hey there little farm owner!" Andy happily greeted as [Name] gripped the straps of his bag tightly, worried for the redhead if he ever falls. His worries worsening when he noticed Andy was holding a bottle of liquor and from his position down below, it seems like there are a few more bottles on the beams of the rooftop.

Shit, Andy was drunk...

[Name] was about to shout at Andy about why he was drinking so early in the morning (it was still seven in the morning for fucks sake) and to get down before he falls off the building. But before he could get his questions out, Andy talked again.

"What have you been up to recently?" Andy asked as he looked down at [Name]. Rather easily when he is way up on the rooftop of the bar. "Haven't seen you for a couple of days now!" Andy said. Noticing that [Name] was carrying a backpack and the head of the pickaxe poking out, Andy shakes his head and sent [Name] a soft, amused grin.

"You never stop," Andy commented as he was both happy and worried about the [Hair color] haired man. [Name] had been working hard none stop after he decided to not go to the city and live his life in Harvest Town. And it was something.

Andy was happy that [Name] was doing his best to restore the mansion and help out in the town, but Andy sees that [Name] was overworking himself to the bone. He was worried, especially after the other day he heard Bill found [Name] passed out in the middle of the forest.

"You've been a busy bee!" Andy laughed as he shakes his head to wash away his worries. [Name] was an adult. [Name] knows how to not worry him and the whole town from his actions.

Having his thoughts organized a bit beside the small buzzing of the alcohol taking its place, Andy raised his bottle of liquor to show [Name], his grin growing bigger as he uttered the next words to the other man to join in. "Wanna have a drink? The scenery is great here!"

"So..." Andy started as he looked up from his casual laying position on the rooftop to cast a glance on [Name] who decided to accept his invitation to relax on top of the bar's roof. [Name] was sitting at the rooftop's beam, his bag was beside his legs as [Name] looked at the whole area with a small smile on his lips.

Andy had to admit, [Name] looked rather nice being all calm and not overworking himself to the bone. He hasn't gotten to talk to [Name] recently besides the few greetings whenever [Name] passed by when he is lounging around the left side of the town square. So he never really got to interact much with [Name] and Andy just noticed how... really pretty he was.

Or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking...

Awkwardly coughing at his thoughts, Andy looked away from staring at [Name] as he immediately raised his bottle of alcohol and downed a few gulps. What was he thinking? That was so stupid! He shouldn't even think about his friend like that!

As Andy was mentally berating his drunken mind for thinking such a thing, [Name] decided to ask the question that pondered him when he first saw Andy on the rooftop of the bar, drinking.

"Isn't it too early?" Andy perked up from hearing [Name]'s voice as he stopped drinking and looked at [Name].

"Early? For what?" Andy asked, chuckling as he saw [Name]'s scrunched up expression on his face at his question. Looking at [Name] who pointed at the bottle he was holding, Andy let out a giggle as he shrugged his shoulder.

"Oh, you mean this?" Andy questioned as he gestured to the bottle, he then just sent [Name] a teasing smile. "Nothing is too early for alcohol, [Name]!" He said with a laughed.

"You're too early to be getting drunk, Andy," [Name] said as he sighed. Shaking his head when he saw Andy pout at him.

"And you're too early going off when you just passed out yesterday!" Andy countered as he sat up from his position and pointed a finger at [Name] who was surprised by his abrupt expression of emotions. "You know how worried I was?"

[Name] closed his mouth as he didn't know what to retort. Andy did have a point. Yau would probably (definitely) call him an idiot for working himself again and Yau's father, Wah, would definitely chastise his decisions.

Sighing, [Name] shakes his head as he could already imagine those two doctors and the mayor, John Gray, ganging up on him for his incompetence and lack of care for himself. That would be an absolute nightmare. But on the other hand, [Name] was happy to know they care and needs to also give them his thanks for taking care of him back to health. Bill as well who had found him passed out in the middle of the forest.

"We appreciate you working hard... but don't work yourself to death," Andy said which brought [Name] out of his thoughts. Looking at the redhead beside him, [Name]'s eyes soften as he glanced at Andy who was staring at the bottle in his hand. A somber look on his face. [Name] now felt more worse for worrying Andy like this as well.

"I'll try, but no promises here," [Name] joked to clear the somber air surrounding them and it seemed to work as Andy turned to look at him, a grin on his face as he laughed.

"You better, little farm owner!" Andy said. Laughing as he felt his cheeks grew hot from seeing [Name] be so carefree and grinning. It was nice. And really, [Name] was pretty this way... damn it, his drunk mind was straying towards those thoughts again. Perhaps drinking more can have Andy successfully bury those types of thoughts inside the deepest darkest crevices of his brain and not annoy him.

"So... rooftop?" [Name] asked. The [Hair color] haired man had to bite back an amused giggled leaving his lips on seeing Andy unconsciously made faces. The poor man looked like he drank something bitter and was not happy at all, [Name] assumed it was finally the alcohol's taking its toll.

"Hm? What now?" Andy asked as he realized [Name] had asked him something and snapped his head to turn to the other man sitting beside him with cheeks flushed and his mind hazy.

"What'd you say, little farm owner?" Andy asked.

[Name] wonders why Andy loves to call him with that ridiculous nickname. He, by all means not that small. In fact, Andy was only a few centimeters taller than him yet the redhead still calls him small. Perhaps Andy just sucks at giving nicknames...

"I said why the rooftop?" [Name] had said.

"I'd like to stay on the roof before the opening of the internet cafe. It's quiet and shady," Andy explained as he drank his bottle of alcohol. Sighing in content as he finished and laid back down on the rooftop and made himself comfortable.

"There are bottles of wine on the beam beside you there, suit yourself," Andy pointed out as [Name] only hummed at his words. A little bit hesitant if he should take a bottle. He still was thinking of going to the mines and being drunk down there would absolutely be a death sentence if he ever gets lost.

"Thanks," [Name] said as he took a sip of the alcohol. In the end, he took a bottle. Andy was right, he shouldn't try to overwork himself to death. He can mine some copper tomorrow. [Name] can still water the crops for another day. Today, he is taking it slow and relax. Maybe he should visit mayor John in his house on the beach and fish with him while picking seashells with Peach too.

A calm silence washed over the two as [Name] tapped his feet on the roof and taking a few sips of the alcohol in his hand. His mind going to places of remembering his old life and the new things he was planning to do after this one day off he to take so abruptly. [Name] maybe his own boss, but he grew to enjoy working and being busy for the last couple of months. It was calming and makes a good distraction to his mind.

Speaking of a good distraction, it seems like [Name] enjoyed this as well. Sure, [Name] was still a bit worried to get so drunk and slipped off the rooftop but he tries to throw those fears to the wind as he took one sip from his bottle before closing his eyes.

This was nice...

It was relaxing as the sun rays that shine throughout the town were blocked by the clouds passing by. The fresh spring air blowing and the sound of the leaves from the trees and other plants of the town dancing with the wind really were putting [Name] to sleep.

[Name] can not be blamed though as his body was still recovering from the exhaustion he experienced yesterday and it did not help that he still woke up six in the morning like always to do some chores in the mansion and the plot of land of his that was slowly getting bigger and better. He does not want to slack off as his duty of the owner and sole person doing all the work of such a huge land.

As [Name] was slowly threading through the line of falling asleep or not, Andy seemed to noticed how quiet he was. Before [Name] could fully lose the battle of sleep, one of them finally decided to talk to one another again. And it was Andy who had cracked first.

"You are silent," Andy muttered beside him. [Name] had heard the bartender's words and he had opened his eyes and turned to look at the side as looked confused at Andy.

"And that's... a bad thing...?" [Name] asked, confused and a bit offended yet he couldn't really be annoyed at Andy when the man was drunk. The many empty bottles beside him as well as the redhead's cheeks were flushed so red from how drunk he was. Clearly, the alcohol was affecting his system more evidently.

It seems like despite Andy being drunk and his mind not as sharp when he is sober, he still caught on to the small offended tone [Name] had used. The redhead immediately sputtered out disagreements.

"N-no!" Andy yelled as he sat up and looked at [Name] intensely. Andy wanted to say to the other man that he had a lovely voice and that it was fine if he was quiet. They haven't been talking to each other for a few days about how busy both of them are. So it was justified that they seem to be hesitant to talk to each other again.

"Are you going to fall asleep?" Andy had asked as he changed the subject. Looking at [Name] who sat up from his comfortable position, an excited grin on his lips as his mind fully succumb from the alcohol in his body. "I can show you a dance!" Andy excitedly said as he put his alcohol bottle on the beam and stood up.

"W-woah!" Andy yelped as he almost slipped, staggering at his steps as he then stood on the beam and sent a large smile at [Name] who was watching him closely. The other man's eyes towards him made Andy's face grow hotter as [Name]'s gaze was rather intense.

Shaking his head to desperately try to focus back to put up a show for the [Hair color] haired farmer, Andy closed his eyes and began to dance. Hips swaying left and right as his hands began to move around. Humming at the song that came to his mind as he danced, Andy seemed to enjoy himself and [Name] had a small fond smile on his lips as he watches Andy dance.

Andy looked so cute, [Name] had to admit it. There's nothing more of a sight to see other than Andy Reed, a bartender who you first would see as unapproachable was a sweet, gentle, and easy going guy be who he was. Just a man who wants to enjoy himself.

It took another minute or two of Andy enjoying himself on dancing and putting on a show and [Name] clapping and biting back the laughs threatening to leave his lips from Andy's occasional silly dance movements.

The two were snapped out of their enjoyment as their heads immediately turned to empty bottles of alcohol fall down and roll off the roof. Both Andy and [Name] looked at one another then back to the bottle once were and then back again to one another, alarmed yet their shock immediately dissipate as Andy burst out laughing while [Name] giggling and trying to keep his giggles to a minimal. Nevertheless, Andy still heard them which made his laugh more louder in joy for making [Name] laugh.

"Haha, sorry! I'm too cocky!" Andy giggled as his face flushed, small rationality came back to him, and realized how embarrassing he was just dancing like an idiot on top of a roof.

Rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, Andy asked for a bottle of wine from [Name]. Sending the other a huge grin and thanking [Name] loudly as he got the bottle and immediately gulped a lot of the alcoholic contents like it was nothing. Andy then avoided [Name]'s amused gaze as he stepped down off the beam to the roof.

Unfortunately for Andy, his mobility wasn't the best since he was still woozy from the alcohol. And so, Andy lost his footing which would have been terrible as he would have fallen off the roof like the bottle he had dropped. He definitely could have suffered some severe injuries, like breaking a bone too and perhaps fracturing his ankle or wrist when he tries to cushion his face.

Fortunately for Andy, [Name] only drank half a bottle of alcohol and was already thinking of the probability of Andy slipping off was high. So [Name] had sprung to action, standing up and caught Andy in his arms as he felt the redhead clutched onto him so tightly while sighing in relief.

"Holy shit, that was so close!" [Name] had said as he looked at the roof and winch when his mind had imagined on what if Andy or he had fallen off the roof and into the ground. [Name] knew Andy would have been in such disaster if not for him... catching... the redhead...

[Name]'s face had grown more hotter as he realized he still have Andy in his arms.

[Name] froze when he felt Andy snuggled onto his chest as the redhead let out a content hum from his lips. [Name] didn't know what to do and he internally screamed when he felt Andy wrapped his arms around his torso and embracing him.

"Um... Andy...?" [Name] hesitantly called out to the redhead who let out a hum. [Name] awkwardly patted Andy's back as he didn't know whether to forcefully pull away from the redhead or talk to the drunk man.

The first option seemed to be a bit difficult as Andy was embracing him tightly while the second option had a high possibility of not working at all from how drunk Andy is. It seemed like Andy was truly, absolutely, drunk after drinking that other bottle before he almost fell down.

"Andy...?" [Name] tried again to call out to the drunk man but immediately kept his mouth shut when he heard the redhead say something.

"Don't... leave..." [Name] heard Andy muttered against his clothes as Andy's embraced tighten for a moment. "Don't leave... us... m-me... p... please..."

[Name] was confused for a second as he looked at the redhead hugging him as his life depended on it.

"What... what do you mean?" [Name] asked confused as Andy took his face away from [Name]'s chest as he looked at the other man in the eye.

"You were going to leave town... please don't ever think of leaving," Andy had confessed as [Name] was flabbergasted. [Name] had to remind himself that Andy was drunk, the red cheeks and flustered look were evident that the easy going and calm bartender be knew wasn't there at the moment.

No, at this moment, the person that was in his arms was a friend who didn't want his other friend to leave.

"I... I almost didn't get to tell you my secret!"

Oh? And perhaps... much more after this.

[Name] bit his bottom lip hard as he look at the drunk man in front of him and then shaking his head. As much as he was curious about whatever the redhead's secret was, he wouldn't be taken advantage of by Andy as the man was drunk. [Name] would rather talk to Andy when he is sober so there won't be any regrets later on.

"Andy, you're drunk—" [Name] didn't even get to finish his sentence as Andy untangled himself from their embrace as he placed a hand on [Name]'s lips while Andy leaned close towards his face.

"Shush!" Andy quieted [Name] as he made shushing motions while still keeping his other hand on the [Hair color] haired man's lips. "I'm telling you a secret!" Andy excitedly said and it worried [Name] on how much did Andy consumed alcohol before he joined in?

[Name] had gently held Andy's hand that was on his mouth and was going to pull the hand away so he could speak clearly but Andy was having none of it.

"I... I liked you!" Andy confessed as he leaned close to [Name]. "I-i've fallen in love with you for... for so damn long! And I was terrified of you leaving town!" Staring at the other man in the eye as his own eyes shown such conviction that made [Name]'s mouth dry and a lump appearing on his throat as he did not know what to say to this sudden event of a drunken confession from Andy.

“Hey, are you able to cover the ED today?” Your coworker asks. “I’m still getting over that flu I had last week, and I think running between here and there might just kill me.”

“Of course, yeah, no problem,” You say, accepting the trauma pager from her, tucking it onto your scrub pocket. “Did you test?”

“Yeah, flu A,” She says, and you grimace. 

“Rough,” You say. “I’ve got it covered, let me know if you need anything else, yeah?”

The first trauma that requires respiratory assistance rolls in around nine. 

“Eighteen-year-old male, motorcycle versus SUV at approximately sixty MPH,” The paramedic says, wheeling the gurney through the doors as people begin to crowd around. “Helmeted, significant damage to the bike.”

They push him through the trauma bay doors, still listening intently as the paramedic continues. 

“Airway intact, alert and oriented times four, awake and talking on scene,” She adds. “GCS fourteen—confused, repeating questions. Obvious deformity to the left femur, no open wound noted, distal pulses weak but present.”

“Heart rate one twenty-eight, BP ninety-eight over sixty-two, resps at twenty-six,” The secondary paramedic says, just as Samira counts down from three, everyone lifting the sheet up and transferring the patient onto the hospital bed. “Two large bore IV’s, fifty of fent, femur splinted in traction.”

“Great, thank you,” Robby says, letting them leave. 

Princess cuts the rest of the patient’s clothes off while Donnie hooks him up to the monitors, the screens coming to life and showing the mildly concerning vitals. Dennis is already examining the chest, stethoscope in as he listens to his lungs. 

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” Samira says, getting a confused groan in response. 

“My fucking leg,” He mumbles. “Where—what happened?”

“You were in an accident,” She explains. “You’re at PTMC now, we’re gonna’ take care of you, okay?”

She looks at Dennis, asking what his next steps are. 

“Uhm, trauma labs, chest and pelvis ultrasound,” He says, glancing towards the monitors, watching his sats come down a few points. “Let’s get him started on high flow, page RT and ortho.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” Samira says. “Who’s here for respiratory?”

“Adams,” Robby says, having already asked Dana earlier that morning. 

Samira frowns. “She’s not here?”

The question is directed at Dennis, who stutters for a second. “Oh, no, she is. She’s just in the ICU today.”

“Too bad,” She says. 

When the door opens to reveal you everyone reacts a little more enthusiastically than they usually would, happy to have you instead of anyone else. 

“Dana said Adams was here today,” Robby says, watching you pull on gloves. 

“Yeah, she had the flu last week, still struggling with some SOB with exertion,” You explain. “Is it okay that it’s me?”

“Definitely,” Samira says. “Motorcycle versus car, GCS fourteen but his sats keep dropping, eighty-seven on a hundred percent.”

“That’s not great,” You say, making your way to the head of the bed. Dennis’ hand comes back as you move behind him, gripping the front of your thigh for a second, making you smile. You introduce yourself to the patient. “I’m with respiratory. Can you tell me your name?”

“My…leg,” He says, taking an obvious breath between the two words. 

“We’re gonna’ get it fixed up for you, okay?” You say. “Your chest hurt at all?”

He doesn’t respond. 

“Can I grab an ABG?” You ask, and Samira nods. “How was the eFAST?”

“Negative,” Dennis says. “No pneumo, no fluid.”

“Femur fracture?” You question, making the assumption from the splint that’s wrapped around his thigh as you grab the syringe, positioning it over his wrist. 

“Yeah, a bad one,” Samira says. “Why, what’re you thinking?”

“FES?” You suggest, drawing his blood up, capping the needle and passing it to Princess. 

“Definitely a concern,” Samira says. 

“Non-rebreather?” You ask. “He’s too agitated for BiPAP.”

“Yep, do it,” She says. “Let’s prep an intubation tray, just to be safe.”

You slip the mask onto his face, assuring him that everything is going to be just fine, then you start collecting the supplies you would need to intubate. Robby leaves at some point, his attention being pulled by another trauma, putting Samira completely in charge. 

“Did you tell ortho this was urgent?” She asks, and Donnie nods. 

“Sure did.”

“Who’s on for ortho?” You ask, mindlessly adjusting the tube you’ve chosen, lining everything up perfectly. 

“Shark,” Donnie says. Dennis rolls his eyes at the mention of the name, shaking his head a little to try and focus on the patient again. 

“Oh, I’ll call,” You say, making everyone raise an eyebrow, not sure why that would change anything, but they don’t stop you. You pick up the phone on the wall, putting in the right number and bringing it to your ear, waiting for a few seconds before someone picks up. “Hey, is Park still up there?”

The room stills, especially Dennis, his hands coming to a complete stop over the patient’s abdomen that he’s about to palpate again. 

“Great, can you let him know that we need an urgent ortho consult down in trauma three?” You ask. You ask for the person on the other end to tell Park that it’s you asking, and Princess smirks. “Thank you so much.”

The door opens four minutes later, Park coming through, his eyes immediately finding you—then the patient. 

“What’ve you got?” He asks, and Samira gestures for Dennis to go ahead. 

“Motorcycle versus car, closed femur fracture, concerned about FES,” He explains. Park nods, leaning over the patient, gloved hand raising to touch the area. 

“You calling me personally now?” He asks, looking at you again. 

“When the situation calls for it,” You say, a small smile on your face, one Dennis does not miss. “Wouldn’t be necessary if you guys would actually answer pages at a reasonable pace for once.”

“I like to make an entrance,” He says, crouching a little to get a better look at the injury. “Especially when you’re here.”

“Okay, relax,” You say, but you’re laughing through the words. “Just fix his fucking thigh, Brendon.”

“For you?” He asks. “Anything.”

That was when things started going downhill for you and Dennis. 

Had that happened any other day? It wouldn’t have been an issue. People flirt with you all the time, not just at work, but everywhere. It’s a constant that he’s grown used to, and up until today he thought that he could handle any amount of people throwing themselves at you. 

But, apparently he can’t. 

The mass casualty happens at three-fifty-nine. 

A multi-vehicle pile up on the highway with twenty of the thirty-two victims arriving by ambulance and helicopter fifteen minutes later. 

You spend the first hour floating from room to room, assisting with oxygenation and administering medications when the nurses are already stretched thin. You start a few arterial lines, intubate two patients, and do six rounds of chest compressions all within sixty minutes. 

Your name is called from one of the rooms, making you quickly tape an arterial line in place, asking Mel if she needs anything else before making your way over to Dana. You dodge people as you move, following her through the curtain, revealing Dennis standing at the head of the bed, preparing to intubate. 

“Where do you want me?” You ask, looking at Frank, who’s squeezing a bag of blood. 

“You can assist Whitaker,” He says, and you nod, taking the spot beside your boyfriend and accepting the bag mask from Sophie, placing it over the patient’s mouth. 

The ED is loud. 

That’s all Dennis can think about until you’re standing next to him, and then he starts thinking about you and Park earlier. Someone asks what size tube he wants just as he puts the laryngoscope into place, turning the light on and glancing towards the monitor that’s been wheeled in, revealing the patient’s throat. He doesn’t realize that the question was for him, clearly, so you answer.

“Seven, probably,” You say, turning around and opening the drawer, grabbing the correct tube.

Dennis inches farther into the mouth.

The cords still aren’t visible. 

“That’s super anterior,” You say, already reaching towards the patient’s neck, pressing your hand against it. You watch the screen, adjusting to try and bring the cords into view, but the visualization still isn’t great. “Lift the blade slowly, that might help.”

“Yeah, I know,” He says, his tone a little firmer than usual, but you quickly brush it off as the pressure of the mass casualty. 

Her airway is swollen, and even when the cords come into view he doesn’t feel good about the landmarks. He keeps looking down into her throat and back up at the screen, and then Sophie speaks up. 

“Sats down to seventy-one.”

Dennis shakes his head, pulling back in a swift motion. 

“Switch?” You ask, and he nods, passing you the tools. You take his place, and he sets his hand where yours was moments prior, mimicking the pressure that you were doing for him. 

You get the same view that he had, but you’re much more confident as you adjust the blade, sliding the tube into place without even looking at the monitor. Dennis puts his stethoscope in to confirm breathsounds. 

“Waveform looks good,” Frank says. “Yellow on end-tidal.”

“Good breath sounds bilaterally,” Dennis adds. 

“Thank you,” Frank says, and you nod, your hand landing on Dennis’ side as you walk past him, a slight action of reassurance. 

“Call if you need anything else,” You say, then you slip through the doors, off to the next critical patient. 

He’s rattled after that, and he can’t help but notice the difference in how you’re doing compared to him. People call for you specifically, anticipating your next move and passing you whatever you need before you can even ask, thanking you or even congratulating you once you finish up with patients. You move through the chaos in a way that he can’t, and it seems like everyone does their best to make it easy for you. 

He ends up in one of the back hallways between crises after Robby tells him to take a breather. 

He lost the patient that you intubated, and he can’t stop wondering if maybe he wouldn’t have if he had been able to get the tube in. You eventually come into the hallway, sliding down the wall beside him, tucking your knees up to your chest, a small amount of dried blood on your scrubs. 

“You okay?” You ask, nudging his leg with your own. 

He nods. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” You say. “Heard you lost a patient.”

He inhales sharply, shifting his legs away from you ever so slightly. “I did, yeah.”

He pauses for a second before continuing. 

“I should’ve let you intubate from the get-go,” He says, but it’s not proud like usual—it’s bitter. “Maybe that extra minute of oxygen would’ve saved her.”

“Don’t do that,” You say. “Don’t blame yourself, you did everything right.”

He scoffs. “Not as right as you.”

“I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have, Denny,” You counter. “You’ll get used to it, I promise. And, I’ve got your back. Always.”

He nods, his frustration finally coming to the surface, spilling out with his words. “Would be a lot easier if the entire department wanted to sleep with me.”

You stiffen, and he doesn’t see the way your face drops. 

“What?” You ask, incredulously. 

“Surgeons don’t come quickly when I page,” He continues. “People aren’t lining up to make my life easier because they think I’m attractive.”

You don’t speak for a minute, but you push yourself away from him on the floor, hurt rising in your chest. 

“And if they were? I at least wouldn’t be entertaining it in front of you,” He adds. “Is that why you always want to look nice at work? So people will trip over themselves to try and impress you?”

You blink a few times. 

“Is that really what you think?” You ask, already standing up, wanting to put as much distance between you and him as possible. “Cool, good to know.”

You’re gone before he can say anything else. 

Somehow, because the universe hates you, you end up in a trauma together during the last thirty minutes of your shift. 

Your entire demeanor changes the second you see that he’s in there, silently adjusting oxygen settings and doing whatever you’re asked as everyone works around you. Dennis keeps trying to catch your eye, but you barely look in his direction, keeping all your focus on staying fucking professional. 

Jack, who showed up shortly after the pile-up was on the news, notices the tension between the two of you right away.

“Everything okay?” He asks, mostly to you. 

“Yep,” You say. “You want BiPAP?”

“Yeah, and let’s page ortho for that arm,” He says, raising an eyebrow, watching closely as you set the mask up. “Then you can get out of here, pass this off to the nightshift.”

“Great,” You say. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

“You wanna’ give them a call, let Park flirt with you again?” Princess asks, to which you shake your head. 

“Not this time, sorry,” You say, a tight smile on your face. “Can’t pull that card too often, people might start questioning my clinical abilities.”

Dennis goes completely still over the chest, one hand holding the diaphragm of his stethoscope mid-air. Jack raises an eyebrow, barely looking up from his task.

“Why would that make someone question your clinical abilities?” He asks, to which you shrug, reaching for the BiPAP settings. 

“Beats me,” You say. “Eight over four?”

“Whitaker?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah, eight over four, please,” He says, giving you a quick nod. 

You adjust them accordingly. “Anything else I can do for you, Dr. Whitaker?”

He glances up at you, shaking his head. “No, uh, thank you.”

Your last name stumbles awkwardly out of his mouth at the end of the sentence, and Jack watches as you leave before turning back to Dennis.

“That was fun,” Jack says. “You wanna’ tell me what happened?”

“Not really,” Dennis mumbles. 

You’re standing by the central hub when Park comes back down into the department, pivoting away from the room and instead heading towards you, calling your name to get your attention. 

“Hey,” You greet, giving him a small smile. “Here for two?”

“Yeah, the broken arm,” He says. “You intubate?”

“Nope, just BiPAP,” You answer. “They’re A&O times four.”

“Great,” He says. “You still somehow look amazing, even after that mass cas.”

Your response is foreign to him. He’s been harmlessly flirting with you for years, and both of you would go as far as saying the other is a friend, and you’ve always joked back or at least smiled. Now, you take a half step away from him, eyes flitting towards the trauma room, your expression neutral.

“Hey, don’t,” You say, making him chuckle a little. 

“Okay, sorry,” He says. “Didn’t realize I couldn’t compliment my favourite RT anymore.”

“Yeah, you know, we’re at work,” You say. 

“When are we not?”

Your eyes land on Dennis when he comes out of the room, only for a second, but Park turns around, seeing your boyfriend. 

“Did Whitaker say something?” He asks. 

“No, no, I just think we should keep it professional, okay?” You say, wanting today to end. “I’m sorry.”

“He said something,” He says. “After he choked in that trauma and lost his patient?”

“Don’t fucking say that,” You counter. 

“Did he take that out on you?” He questions. “Couldn’t handle the fact that you had to swoop in and save his ass?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t ‘save his ass,’” You argue. “I’m an airway specialist, I’ve had to step in for practically every doctor in this department at least once. I lost that patient just as much as he did, and he didn’t do anything wrong.”

The nurses at the hub go completely silent, quickly acting as though they weren’t listening to the conversation. Jack smirks, reminding himself to never get on your bad side. You look to Dennis again, who heard the majority of the exchange, before pushing off the desk. 

“I have handover,” You say. “See you later.”

Dennis reaches for you as you walk by. “Hey-”

You twist your body away, avoiding him entirely as you make it to the door, heading back up to the ICU without another word. Trinity lets out a low whistle, waiting until you’re gone before speaking. 

“You fucked up, Huckleberry,” She says. 

Dennis grits his teeth. “Yeah, I know.”

He’s actually shocked to see you waiting for him outside the ER once he’s finished. 

You’re leaning against a pillar, headphones in, a grim look on your face. Trinity widens her eyes at Dennis, the look saying something along the lines of ‘fix this, you fucking idiot.’

She says bye to you as she walks past.

“Night, Santos,” You say, tugging your headphones out and putting them in your jacket pocket. Dennis approaches slowly, holding the straps of his backpack, head slightly tilted towards the floor. 

“I-”

“Can we stop and pick something up for dinner?” You ask, reaching for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “We don’t have any leftovers and I don’t feel like cooking.”

His fingers are frozen around yours for a second, then he curls them over your hand, falling in step beside you. 

“We can do whatever you want,” He says. “Do you want me to take you home first? Then I can go-”

“No, I wanna’ come with you,” You interrupt, swinging your arm a little, leaning into him like you usually do. He’s warm, protecting you from the wind as you step outside. 

He doesn’t say anything as you walk to the car, just opening your door for you, shutting it as gently as he can before hopping in the driver’s seat. 

“You can pick what we eat,” You say. “My brain hurts.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

You’re almost at your favourite restaurant when he speaks again. 

“You waited for me,” He says, quiet, a little nervous. 

“Of course I did,” You say. “Me being mad doesn’t mean we don’t go home together.”

You pause for a second. 

“You had a shitty day,” You add. “Let’s talk about it later, yeah?”

Later comes after you’ve both eaten, showered, and sat in silence for awhile, you tucked into his side on the couch and your cat curled up beside you. 

“Okay,” You say, making him jump a little. You shift away, turning so you’re facing him. He spins too, anxiety written all over his face. 

You take a deep breath. 

“You can’t talk to me like that,” You say, getting straight to the point. “Or even think about me like that.”

He nods, slowly, not wanting to sound remotely defensive. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t know,” You insist, keeping your tone from dipping into anything close to anger. “Because if you did you wouldn’t have said it.”

“I don’t think that about you,” He says. “Not at all.”

His voice wobbles a little. 

You inch a little closer, touching your knees to his, looping a finger into the bottom of his sweatpants, toying with the hem. 

“You’re so good at…everything,” He continues, swallowing roughly, clearing his throat. “I don’t know why seeing you so…fine in the middle of it all made me so upset.”

You shrug. “You had just lost a patient and felt like it was your fault.”

“Yeah, but that happens everyday,” He counters. “And you come and fix my mistakes everyday. I don’t usually react like that.”

“Are you looking for help psychoanalyzing yourself?” You ask, the tone a bit teasing. 

He smiles. “A little, yeah.”

You purse your lips, shifting closer again. 

“Park was flirting with me in front of you,” You start. “I didn’t think anything of it because that’s the relationship we’ve always had. You felt...bad about that.”

You stop, realizing that sounded better in your head. 

“Tell me if I’m wrong, please,” You add, and he nods, gesturing for you to continue. “You lost a patient after having to pass the intubation to me, and I don’t think it being me had anything to do with it. You would’ve been upset no matter who took over, because you felt like you should’ve been able to get that airway.”

His face flickers, and you can tell that you’ve said something that doesn’t completely resonate. 

“It did matter that it was you,” He corrects, gently. “I…I always wanted to impress you when we worked at the clinic, and I still do. Even five years later.”

“You do impress me,” You promise. “Every single day. Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?”

You don’t give him the chance to answer. 

“I tell literally anyone who will listen that my boyfriend is the most caring, patient, amazing doctor every chance I get,” You continue. “I’ve seen so many interns in that emergency room and you’re better than all of them. And I’m not just saying that because I’m in love with you.”

“Wait, you’re in love with me?” He asks, smiling, the joke making you grin, the tension genuinely starting to loosen now. 

“Extremely,” You say.

He clenches his jaw, on the verge of tears. 

“I love you so much,” He says. “And I know that your job is just as hard as mine, and that people finding you attractive doesn’t make it any easier.”

You squint, tilting your head to the side. “Well…”

He wipes a tear off his cheek, chuckling. “Yeah, the thing with Park was pretty helpful.”

“Sometimes people listen more,” You say. “Sometimes they don’t take me seriously. It balances out.”

He nods. “Right.”

His hand moves towards you, but he hesitates, placing it back in his lap. 

“I had no right to say that to you,” He says. “Not during a mass cas, not ever. I’m so sorry, angel.”

“I know you are,” You say, reaching for his hand, taking it in your own. “I’m still upset, but-”

You feel him stiffen, eyes dropping to your lap, more tears pooling on his lashline. 

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” You say. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, nodding. “Okay.”

“I’m still upset, but I just need time,” You continue. “And I need you to not do that again.”

“I won’t,” He says, opening his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

An hour later you’re curled up on the couch, a blanket over you, the light from the TV flickering over your face. You’re not really paying attention, but it’s nice to have in the background as you process the day while Dennis busies himself in the kitchen, putting your leftovers away and making some tea. 

He sets a mug in front of you on the coffee table, earning a tired smile from you. He looks towards the couch, then back to you. 

“Can I—”

You sit up a little, nodding. 

“You don’t have to ask,” You say. 

He sits beside you, leaving a few inches of space, not wanting to overstep. You lean over, setting your head in his lap, pulling the blanket up to your jaw and putting your hand on his thigh. He exhales with relief, slipping a hand under the blanket and resting his arm across your chest. 

Trinity barely gives him a second to put his bag in his locker before she’s on him the next day, her arms folded over her chest as she squints slightly. 

“What?” Dennis asks, his actions slowing when he notices her. 

“Did you apologize?” She questions, and he sighs. 

“Yes, of course I did,” He says. 

“So, you guys are good?”

“Why are you so invested?” He asks, holding the door open for her as they both walk out of the locker room. 

Trinity hesitates on the answer for a second. 

“She’s Garcia’s best friend,” She says. “That means I give a fuck about her, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dennis says, smiling a bit. “You’re that serious now, huh?”

“Shut up,” Trinity counters. “I’m glad you didn’t fuck anything up too badly.”

He exhales sharply. “Me too.”

Gossip spread fast about you and Dennis acting ‘weird’ towards eachother yesterday, so all eyes are on the two of you when you’re paged to help with a conscious nasotracheal intubation. You join the small group of people outside the patient’s room, already having been briefed on the situation by Dana. 

“Just in time,” Cassie says, making room for you in the circle. “We were just going over the plan.”

“Great, keep going,” You say, glancing towards Dennis for a second, who’s already looking at you, giving him a small smile. He returns it, along with a nod, then both of you focus on Cassie again. 

“We’ll topicalize, that’ll be you,” She says, setting her hand on your shoulder for a moment. 

“Got it,” You say. “Who’s doing first pass?”

“Uh, me,” Dennis says, raising his hand up a fraction. “Never done one outside the cadaver lab, so…”

You smile again. “Cool, sounds good.”

“We want to work quickly to avoid any complications,” Cassie emphasizes. “We need all meds ready, and second pass is you, too. What meds do you prefer?”

The reliance that she shows on you makes Dennis’ heart race, and not in a bad way this time.

You don’t hesitate—because you never do. Not because people make your job easier, but because you know your shit. 

“Atomized lidocaine, four percent for MAD,” You say. “Viscous lidocaine for the passageway and a little phenylephrine is what I’d start with.”

“Nasal spray or pledgets?” Cassie asks. 

“Pledgets,” You answer. “Let it sit for sixty seconds.”

“Okay, perfect,” Cassie says. “Whitaker, can you walk us through the plan step by step, please?”

“Oh, uh, Princess and Jesse will prep meds, I’ll insert the pledgets with…point two-five PE?” 

He looks to you after asking, and you nod. 

“Let those sit for a minute, set up suction, administer viscous lido,” He continues. “Start numbing the airway with MAD, give fent as needed for comfort while keeping her awake. Then I’ll do first pass.”

“You want me to set up your tray?” You ask. 

He nods. “That would help, yeah, thank you.”

“You got it.”

Everyone can see that you’re slightly different with eachother, but not in the way they thought you might be. They expected a day filled with awkward tension, maybe even wished for it, but the two of you are just…softer. Leaving less unspoken than you usually would, making sure you communicate everything you need. 

“Okay, let’s get in there,” Cassie says, and the five of you step inside the room. 

You introduce yourself to the patient before Cassie can do it for you, saying your first name and walking over to the side of her bed. 

“I’m a respiratory therapist,” You say, smiling, reassuring the patient with ease. “We’re gonna’ get you breathing better, yeah?”

“Yeah, right,” She says, smiling back, but her voice is laced with anxiety. 

“You’re gonna’ do great,” You say. “You’ve got a really good team here.”

Dennis feels his chest and neck start to heat up when you look directly at him as you say it. 

You move towards the cart, opening drawers and setting up the intubation tray for Dennis, placing two tubes down incase the larger one doesn’t fit. He walks her through what he’s doing as he moves, inserting the cotton and explaining what she’ll feel once it starts to kick in. You set up the MAD, coming back to the side of the bed once you’re done, viscous lidocaine in hand.

“I’m gonna’ put some of this in both nostrils, okay?” You say, showing her the syringe. “It’s like a jelly, it’ll be a little cold. Ready?”

She nods, leaning her head back. You apply the medication, handing the empty syringe to Princess. You pick up the MAD again.

“This’ll slowly go down your throat so I can numb your airway,” You explain. “It might not feel super nice, but there shouldn’t be any pain. If it hurts just grab my arm and I’ll stop.”

You advance the tube into her nose, the pacing muscle memory, keeping an eye on her to make sure she’s okay as you work. 

“Push the fent,” Cassie says. Princess does. 

“Almost there,” You say, eyes on the monitor. “You’re doing great, almost done.”

You pull out once you’re finished. “Dr. Whitaker’s gonna’ put the tube in now, okay?”

“Same thing, goes in slow,” He says. “Let me know if it hurts.”

You shift to stand beside him, not too close, just wanting him to know that you’re there. He takes the tube in his hand, gently inserting it into her nostril. 

She coughs at one point, her sats dipping for a second, making him look at the monitor. 

“Feels awful even with the numbing, I know,” You say. “Slow, deep breaths.”

She listens, the coughing fading out, her chest rising and falling more rhythmically now. You give Dennis a nod. 

You set up the vent once the tube is in place, then you step outside, finding a computer to start charting at. He comes out a few minutes later, landing beside you, making you look over. 

“Thank you,” He says. “You were amazing in there.”

“I try,” You say, teasingly. “You did great too, you didn’t even need me.”

“I did,” He counters. “I always do.”

Robby calling his name cuts the moment short, and he glances over his shoulder before looking at you again, quickly. 

“See you later?” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ll be around.”

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