Talk Nerdy to me

He very nearly dropped the bike as he skidded to a halt in the ambulance bay. Hitting the kickstand with his foot was muscle memory at this point, and for that he was glad as he tossed his helmet to the ground and sprinted towards the bay doors. People were calling his name left and right, but his only concern was getting to Jack and Dennis.

“Thank Christ you're here,” Dana exclaimed as Robby stopped his prowl at the central hub. His chest rose and fell quickly as his breath puffed out in short bursts. “He took Dennis up to the eighth floor.”

She rounded the desk and joined him as they beelined for the stairs, throwing a “Perlah, you're in charge!” over her shoulder.

As they burst through the doors to the stairwell, Robby’s nose twitched. The smell was faint, but present, and struck straight through his heart as it confirmed what Dana had told him.

-

The phone call had woken him up - he’d been enjoying a nap in the sun on one of his *very* few days off. The house was empty, Jack having picked up a TEMS shift and Dennis busy in the Pitt, leaving Robby solo for a day of relaxing. Until his phone rang.

“You need to come quick,” Dana’s voice had been frantic. “Abbot got exposed to something in the field- they brought him here and he broke through security.”

“Woah, slow down!” Robby shot straight up, already starting to gather his gear. “What happened? What was Jack exposed to?”

There was a commotion in the background of the call.

“I don't know,” she breathed, “I don't know but he looked feral, Robby. Actually feral.”

Robby cursed, slipping his gloves on as he jammed his feet into his boots.

“Where is he now? Is he safe?”

“Ahmed followed him up to the eighth floor - they’re barricaded in one of the patient rooms.”

Robby paused. “They?”

He could hear the beta woman swallow on the other side of the line. “He grabbed Whitaker too.”

-

Jack’s scent was normally warm and spiced: cloves and ginger and nutmeg. But the scent that drifted throughout the stairwell as Robby took the stairs two by two had turned hot - the spices burning and charring in Robby’s nose. Dennis was there too, not quite as prominent, but even the traces that were present were wrong. His normally mild scent of hay and sun-baked earth turned acrid like a burning field.

As they reached the eighth floor, Robby stopped to turn to Dana, who had been leading him diligently towards where his mates had hidden.

“Go back down there - I need you to figure out what he was exposed to. If it's still contagious or not.”

Dana shook her head, “Robby… Abbot was so far gone when he came in. He might not recognize-”

“Go, Dana.” Robby commanded once more. “If you don't hear from me in the next half hour… call for feral control. But otherwise, keep everyone off of this floor.”

He watched as Dana’s jaw clenched. He knew the beta was conflicted - Jack and Dennis were as much her pack as they were his. But they were his omegas. His to protect. Dana was a smart woman. She knew better than to get between an alpha and his omegas - even if he was putting himself in danger.

“Keep your ringer on- I'll call you as soon as we know what it is.”

With that, Dana fled down the stairs, leaving Robby alone on the eighth floor to find Jack and Dennis.

He stalked forward, moving as quietly as possible as he listened for any sounds of distress. The burning smell grew stronger the further down the corridor, Dennis’s scent underneath it becoming more noticeable as well. Trusting his instincts, he followed the scents to a room at the end of the hall. He could hear it then, as he stood outside the closed door: a low rumbling. A warning sound.

Robby did his best to calm himself as his hand reached towards the door. He didn't expect the door to be unlocked; the turn of the handle making him flinch. The growl grew louder. The door squeaked open a crack and Robby’s breath hitched in his throat.

A sliver of light from the hallway shone into the patient room, falling on a tangle of two familiar bodies. Dennis lay curled across Jack’s lap, clutching Jack’s arm in his hands. Jack held Dennis just as tightly, one arm framing Dennis’s chin and reaching up to the back of his head while the other pulled him close to his chest. Another forced growl drew Robby’s attention higher- his breath catching in his lungs at the sight of Jack’s eye illuminated by the slit of light. It was completely black, the hazel irises that Robby knew and adored swallowed entirely by overblown pupils. His lip was curled up, showing off his short but razor sharp fangs. Robby watched as Jack’s arms tensed around Dennis, pulling him impossibly closer. A whimper came from Dennis and Robby couldn't help but take a step forward, which was very obviously the wrong move.

Jack snapped his fangs at Robby, the persistent rumbling reaching a boiling point as he snarled at the alpha.

Instinctively driven to correct the omega, Robby let out another snarl in response. Instead of shrinking back like an omega normally would, Jack bristled even further. Robby didn't miss the way that Dennis cowered away from both of them.

Robby opened his mouth to speak when his phone chimed in his pocket. He reached into his pocket slowly, telegraphing all of his movements as Jack tracked him like a hunter tracking his prey. Not glancing away from the omegas in front of him, Robby hit ‘accept’ and ‘speaker’.

“Please tell me you've got a lead on what this is,” Robby pleaded, watching as Dennis’s head turned slightly for him to assess Robby out of the corner of his eye.

“It's some kind of viral bio-weapon,” Dana explained frantically over the phone, “It’s attacking the frontal lobe and putting victims in a feral state- omegas AND alphas.”

Robby cursed under his breath. Being in close quarters with the two omegas had amplified the burning smell. Robby swore he could feel the heat in his nose.

“Okay, what's the treatment? The reversal agent?” Robby barked. His head had begun to ache, making him snap out the last word.

“Someone from the CDC is on their way,” Dana reassured, which did very little for Robby. “They're saying it's transmitted through scent so you should be fine up there as long as Abbot and Whittaker both still have their scent patches on.”

Robby felt sick as his eyes trailed from where Jack and Dennis were crouched to the pile of shredded plastic coated cotton pads.

“Fuck,” Robby drawled. He retrained his eyes on the two omegas, finally spotting the inflamed scent glands on Jack and Dennis’s wrists and necks. Even more concerningly, he watched as Jack’s nostrils flared, his head tilted towards Robby.

“They still have their patches on, right? Robby?”

Robby pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth, fully knowing it was probably too late. His breath started to become shallower, faster as visions of Tyvek suits and ventilators filled his head. He had to get what little information he gathered out as quickly as he could.

“Okay, Dana, listen to me. Call Gloria: tell her to put the hospital on lockdown - nobody in or out until there's an antidote available. Evacuate the seventh and ninth floors to somewhere else. All alphas and omegas need scent proof masks. Affected persons are going to develop a burning, smoky smell. They need to be fully quarantined. The eighth floor needs to be completely locked down - call facilities and make sure they shut off air circulation as quickly as possible.

Robby winced, a red hot flash of pain spearing through his head just behind his eyes. His shirt slipped out of his hand as his legs shook, prompting him to prop himself up against the doorframe. His vision began to blur, but he could still make out the shape of Dennis slowly removing himself from Jack’s lap, the two of them gravitating towards the alpha with flared nostrils.

“Robby-”

He cut Dana off with a low groan, heat spreading through his veins as he felt sweat begin to gather at his brow.

“Promise me-” he choked, falling further into the door frame. Jack was less than a yard away, his growls fading into a low keening sound that forced Robby’s body to loosen. “Fuck- Dana promise me you won't let them separate us.”

Robby didn't hear Dana’s response.

His phone slipped from his hand as the acrid burning smell suddenly vanished as if a strong wind had blown the smoke away. In its stead were Jack and Dennis’ scents, pungent and unadulterated as Robby filled his lungs with the air that carried them. His vision cleared as he dropped to his knees coming face to face with his omegas. Jack’s keening ceased and he pressed his face into Robby’s neck, mouthing at the sensitive scent gland there and pressing his own scent into every inch of skin he could get his hands on. Dennis did the same on Robby’s other side, his purr harmonizing with Jack in a way that dissolved any remaining tension in Robby’s muscles. A rumbling sound erupted from Robby’s chest before he pushed the two omegas farther into the room.

The three mates piled together, licking and scenting each other until their scents were indistinguishable from each other. They lie tangled together, content and satisfied, numb to the fire licking through their veins and creeping through the air ducts to the rest of the hospital.

Dennis had lost everything.

His mate, his home, his nest, his belongings, his safety.

Everything.

He instead was left with a yearning, aching emptiness for someone that he had chosen to leave, and a mark he could never get rid of.

He tried to ignore it, to fill the hole with suppressants and scent patches, to cover the ache in his soul, not nothing could quite reach.

He was left as nothing but a husk of what he once was.

But he was determined to not let that consume him.

He noticed the change in his resident slowly.

First he noticed the ever-present eye bags under the boys eyes, growing, deepening, until they looked like pits trying to swallow half his face.

Then came the eyes. The young omega's once beautiful and lively eyes now always seemed to shine with unsshed tears, glancing frantically around him, as if something or someone would come out of the shadows to attack him.

Then was the scent. Robby had always found himself drawn to the boy's beautiul earthy and sweet scent, like a freshly baked apple pie, and dirt right after it had rained.

But now the boy's once vibrant, addicting smell seemed permanently soiled, like rotting fruit and manure, and a swirling ever-constant scent of cigarette smoke.

Fear and anxiety stuck to the scent like glue.

The smell made Robby's inner alpha howl and scream and scratch. It made him want to scoop up the boy, take him to his and his mate's den, and never let him leave. To protect, and care for and nurture him.

But alas, he couldn't.

Dennis wasn't his Omega, and never could be. The boy already had an alpha, and a claim on his neck to prove it.

Robby and his mate had discussed it before, courting Whitaker, and inviting him into their lives. They'd both imagined that beautiful, sweet scent in their den, the young omega's nest covering their bed, the three of them happily snuggled on the couch reading or watching movies.

But then Dennis had come in wearing a new mark and a new scent, and the world had flipped on its head.

The alphas had simply stood there dumbly for a long time, holding a box of chocolates and an item of clothing they'd each scented for the omega's nest.

The alphas had spent longer on the roof that day than they ever had.

After that they had tried to move on.

The man had seemed happy enough at first, smiling and laughing with his coworkers, showing off his ring and mark to his friends.

The alphas were happy for him.

Really, they were.

The boy deserved a loving, kind alpha his own age.

They tried to distance themselves from him. It wasn't fair to Dennis that the two old men were left yearning, and wanting the already taken omega.

If they hadn't, maybe they would have noticed the change sooner, as the boy began to close himself off from his friends and coworkers.

It all came to a head when one day, on a Tuesday like any other, Dennis didn't come into work.

There was no email.

No communication.

He wouldn't answer anyone's texts, not even Trinity's.

When they tried to contact his alpha, he told them the young omega would no longer be working at the hospital, and that he would be staying home, with him and their pups to be, and that they needed to stop contacting the boy.

Everyone was furious, especially Trinity.

She knew what being a doctor had meant to Dennis, and that there was no way he would willingly give that up for anything. That he would have tried to find a way to continue his residency and raise the pups if given the option.

But the man was right.

There was nothing anything could do about it but wait, and hope the omega would reach out to one of them eventually.

The hospital seemed colder, less vibrant without the omega. Everyone felt it. Especially Robby.

His absence felt like someone had reached into the alpha's soul and snatched something vital to his very being.

Everyone started avoiding him, giving him a wide berth in the halls, presenting to Al-Hashimi or the senior residents when possible.

Even Jack could feel the distance between the two of them since the omega disappeared.

A week after they got the news, Jack started sleeping in the spare room.

It was slow a first, only one or two nights in a row. But then the time apart grew until they hadn't slept with each other in over a month.

Everything was falling apart in front of Robby, and all he could do was stand and watch.

He barely had the energy to get out of bed in the morning.

And then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, he smelled that sweet scent of wet earth and apple pie he had missed so much coming from the waiting room.

At first he thought he must have been hallucinating. The depression and loneliness was surely, finally getting to him.

But then he saw him.

The boy seemed so much smaller than he remembered, his scent sour and bitter, warning off anyone who may try to harm the young man.

As he approached the omega, he noticed a small bundle in his arms and felt his stomach sink.

"Whitaker?" His voice was small and hoarse, the word felt rough against his throat.

The omega's eyes widened, his scent spiking as he looked up, as if searching for danger, when his eyes landed on Robby. His shoulders lowered slightly as he relaxed at the familiar face, shame instead taking hold as he stood and walked towards the larger man.

"Dr Robby I- I want to apologize f-for leaving like that, I-I just…" his voice trailed off, eyes downcast as he avoided eye contact, the bundle in his arms held tightly to his chest. "I… I know you all probably hate me now but I… she- she's sick and I just… I can't… I don't know what's wrong… I can't- I can't l-lose-" his rambles cut off sharply as he began to sob holding what Robby now recognized as a young baby tightly to his chest.

He tried gently calming the omega as he led him to a quiet room, exchanging a glance with Dana along the way.

He could feel all eyes on them as they walked, curiousity and concern in his coworkers' faces.

Gently, so as not to startle the boy, Robby guided him to sit down, sitting across from him as he spoke softly.

"Dennis, I'm… I'm glad I get to see you again, we all thought we'd never get that chance again…"

Dennis looked up at him then, tears staining his cheeks and blurring his vision, "I'm sorry Dr Robby, I didn't… I didn't want to leave you all like that it just… I couldn't…" he struggled with the words, voice tight.

"It's all right Whitaker, you're here now and that's all that matters" his smile was small and sad. He had drempt of this moment, of the omega returning one day, of their reunion, but never did he imagine this. The young man shaking as he sobbed, holding a baby tightly to his chest.

The older man could see the boy's ribs through his shirt, he had lost so much weight since he'd seen him last, which he hadn't thought was possible.

He could feel his heart aching for the man in front of him.

The once confident, strong person who had once pulled him off the floor and out of a dangerous place in his mind. The person who he loved so deeply and has missed so much over the last year he'd been absent.

He startled slightly at a light knock at the doorway, Dana's soft voice filtering through the space as she entered, "Hey sweetheart, how are you doing? It's been a while since we've seen you here?" The alphas soft dark chocolate and honey scent wrapped around the room, helping the omega's shoulders relax slightly again.

Dennis sniffled slightly before answering, his voice shaky, "I don't- I don't know what's wrong with her, her temperature is so high and she won't eat, and her breathing sounds off. She's crying so much I just… I don't know what to do, I can't even afford children's ibuprofen to try lower the fever and I just- I don't know what to do!" His voice cracked at the end as he spoke, along with both the alpha's hearts.

They gently started a physical exam, taking blood samples to send off to be tested, and asking questions about her symptoms. He earnestly and eagerly answered them until they got to questions about home life.

"Has she been around anyone sick lately, maybe you or your mate, or any friends?"

Dennis froze slightly, stuttering as he answered, "uh… n-no? I don't think so… but i-it's hard to say… I h-haven't been exactly… living with my mate the past week or so?…" His voice trailed off.

Confusion flooded the doctor's expression, "Oh? Have you been living with any friends or family then that may have been sick or given her any sort of sickness recently then?"

"Umm… s-someone at one of the shelters we were staying at might have… but like I said i-it's kind of hard to say…"

Robby felt sick, the urge to vomit heavy in his throat as he swallowed.

"Oh"

It's all he could say. What was he supposed to say to that? To hearing that the young omega in front of him, the omega he had loved so desperately for so long had been homeless with a pup just barely 3 months old.

The silence was loud as they sat there, the truth heavy in the room. When it was clear he wasn't going to add any more Dana broke the silence with a sigh.

"Ok hun, we aren't going to push if you don't want us to, but just know, you can talk to us ok? We care for you, and you're still one of us, you're still our bloodhound ok?" Whitaker's returning smile was small but genuine as they handed the baby back to him.

"Alright, she seems alright for now, it seems to just be a case of the flu, but we'll have to wait for the test results to get back to be sure-"

She was cut off by a bang as the door was shoved open, and a loud voice, "What the fuck huckleberry?!" Trinity's angry tone was only overshadowed by the absolute look of panic and worry on her face, "where the fuck have you been? You never answered any of my calls or texts, and you just disappeared one day, I thought you'd been abducted or someth— is that a baby?"

Robby fled then, under the guise of giving them some privacy.

There was no pretending. Sure, maybe he could've pretended that he did, in fact, see that the apples were red, the sky was blue, and the ground was yellow, but it was hard to do. So he didn't.

That cost him his identity and dignity.

His parents started to get harsher on him. His brothers made fun of him. His classmates and teachers looked at him with too much pity when there was a particular topic about colors.

That's when he realized that he wasn't giving up. He would find his soulmates somewhere, and he was going to be happy with them.

He wanted and needed to leave this place.

So he did.

Now he was here, in Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, waking up for his shift at the hospital, where he squatted out. He'd been here since his rotation for Internal Medicine a month ago. Now, it was the first day of his ER rotation.

He was nervous. Sure, he'd been in the ER before during his third year, but he'd heard that PTMC was one of the best ones yet. He wasn't sure how he'd been accepted at all, but he takes the wins he gets.

He got ready in the dingy but functional room. He rinsed his hair, brushed his teeth, and chomped on one of the designated granola bars for the day.

He packed his bag with his things that he didn't want to lose if ever someone did find the room. Then by 6:50 he was out.

———

Dennis Whitaker was a changed man. Maybe for the worse, maybe for the best. He'd found his soulmate, and he wasn't homeless anymore.

Okay, maybe he's lying about the soulmate part. Can't he just say that he knew who it was, but since it didn't really seem to matter to the other half, he just... never brought it up, either.

For the first month that he'd lived with Trinity after she found him on the 8th floor, she's been asking subtly if he had a soulmate.

He always answered vaguely. He tried to feign innocence by sometimes messing up colors and their names. He tried, trust him.

It only happened 11 months ago, when he looked for a senior resident to consult, only to be grabbed by Dr. Robby and forced to present.

"Ah ah ah," Dr. Robby said as he grabbed him, forcing him to face the man.

What the fuck.

His eyes suddenly flashed with vibrancy.

What the fuck times two.

A headache formed quickly.

It's so...vibrant. It was brighter than white. The more he blinked, the more he couldn't believe it.

He was seeing colors!

Wait. That means—

"You okay, Whitaker?" The man let go of him now; he seemed unbothered by it.

What?

Okay. Maybe Dr. Robby was just keeping it professional for his sake. Yeah. Alright.

"Uh- yeah. I had a case for Dr. Collins?"

And yet. It wasn't brought up. At least once. Nothing.

By the time his rotation ended, there was nothing. Still silent on the whole thing, and it stung.

Was he that unlovable? unworthy?

Maybe he really was.

———

He only understood a week later when he saw Jack Abbot.

The first time he'd been acquainted with the man was when he clocked in for the Pittfest shift with his go-bag, which was cool. Then sometimes the man would clock in earlier than he was supposed to. Sometimes he would help pick up cases, or sometimes he would hang around the on-call room.

He saw the night shift attending with Robby. The way they seamlessly moved around difficult cases. Equipment was already handed out to each other before they even spoke. Their diagnoses were clear and concise, and they both knew when to let the other take the lead.

It was undeniable that the two were soulmates. Even before Dennis was in the ED, it was well known that the two were soulmates.

In turn, that meant that Dennis had two soulmates.

He tried to look it up. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with him from the start. Maybe this was just a mistake. He knew that people with two soulmates existed; he just didn't think it would be him.

And seriously, not one but two of his attendings?

What a joke.

But nothing came up. There was only one thing that was for sure, and that was it's impossible for one person to be soulmates with one but not the other.

Once he was sure he reached a dead end, he never wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

At least he knew now why his attending hadn't reacted. It was because he already met his other soulmate. There wouldn't be any other indicators otherwise (that may be a lie; there were other indicators, but he chooses to ignore those). He was a delayed soulmate.

Despite all the research saying that a delayed soulmate should eventually introduce himself as one, he concluded that they deserved better than him. They found each other first after all. He didn't want to intrude on their relationship.

Not when they looked so linked. Dennis wanted that too.

So, he kept his distance. It was hard at first, especially since his attending, Robby, had his hands on his neck and shoulders. "Manhandling" (Trinity's words, not his) him every chance the man gets.

But he did. Eventually. He pointedly slipped from Robby's hands as they were about to touch him, and the man seemed to notice.

After that, the attending stopped.

Dennis would be lying if he said that his chest didn't ache at the action, though.

He didn't see the way that Robby furrowed his eyebrows when he did.

———

Before he knew it, he was coughing for almost half of his last year in medical school.

He was through his pediatric rotation when he had to take a break because his lungs burned as an object lodged itself there. He felt and heard his breathing get shallow. His chest ached as he felt his lungs getting full of prickly things. 'Almost like branches,' he thought.

Thankfully, somewhere around after Pittfest and after Trinity had taken him in, he was able to afford the pills.

It didn't take him (a medical student) to figure it out. He was stupid but not blind. He knew what he had the moment he saw purple and magenta petals with twinges of blood on his palm. He knew what disease it was.

Hanahaki.

A particular disease for being unrequited love. Victims are people whose soulmates rejected them, or so they thought. Usually can be cured through surgery, admitting the truth, or plainly knowing what they felt wasn't unrequited. It was rare enough not to happen to just about anyone, but it was also fascinating enough to be studied. So, the world decided to study the disease.

Luckily for Dennis, they had developed pills. Pills for the disease that could prolong the lifespan of someone who had the disease. Not cure it but minimize its damage until the person decides to cure it themselves.

It was cheap enough; apparently big pharmaceutical companies care enough about soulmates to let anyone dirt-poor like Dennis survive through it.

He took them. He knows that logically, he should've told someone. Not only so that he can protect himself if ever he did have a Langdon situation, but also so that he can rely on someone if anything ever went sideways.

That privilege was forced out of him when Trinity suddenly barged into his room while he was sitting on his bed and had the bottle of pills in his hand.

"What the fuck is that?!" Trinity shouted. He was sure they were going to get a knock from their neighboring units again.

"Trin! Lower your voice. You'll get us in trouble." He said as he rolled his eyes and took out one pill, swallowing it dry.

She immediately sat down on the mattress. "Did you really just—?" She went over to him quickly, grabbing the bottle from his hand.

"Hey!" Dennis said, reaching for the container.

Trinity lifted the container up high, making sure the label was facing her so she could read it.

Dennis scrambled behind her as she pushed him with her other arm.

She squinted as she read the label.

Jasminum Samnostreum.

Dennis saw the moment she read the label and knew what it was. He finally gave up on taking the container back.

"What the fuck, Huck?" She said as she lowered the container down.

"Look, I was going to tell you but—" he sighed.

"But what? Jusko po, Den. You didn't trust me enough to tell me that you had Hanahaki? You know what might happen if you forget to take one of these!" She looked at Dennis. Looking at his eyes, searching for any answers.

Dennis looked away as he muttered, "I know, Trin. It wasn't like that. I trust you. More than anyone in my life. It was just..." he paused, running his hands through his face, "it's just so fucking embarrassing. I don't know." he slowly looked up at Trinity.

Trinity looked back at him with soft eyes and said, "I don't think having a rare disease is embarrassing, Huck. I don't think being rejected by a soulmate is embarrassing."

If he wasn't already crying, he was pretty sure a few tears had already run down his cheeks.

Trinity opened her arms while sitting, offering a hug, which Dennis immediately took.

It was a few minutes of silence after that.

"So who is it?" Trinity broke the silence.

"Can you keep it a secret?" He muttered against Trinity's shoulder.

"When did I ever air out your secret, Huck?" She pulled away and looked at him with wiggly eyebrows.

He chuckled wetly, looking at her. "You literally told Javadi that I had never watched Interstellar before."

"Okay, but this is different. Seriously, Huck. I would never tell anyone."

"There's two.. actually..." He hesitates.

"...okay..."

"Would you be surprised if I told you it's Dr. Robby and Abbot?"

"...what?" Trinity looked at him with wide eyes, as if he grew three heads all of a sudden.

"We know they're both soulmates, and I literally didn't see colors until, in your words, Robby manhandled me."

Trinity laughed loudly, "Okay. What the fuck."

Dennis soon followed too.

Yeah. It is absurd to say it out loud anyway, he thought.

Then Trinity stopped abruptly as if she realized something, then she squinted. The voice was now firm. "Is this the case that you never told them or they literally rejected you? Because I'm telling you right now—"

Dennis quickly interrupted her, "I never told them, Trin. So don't go punching your attendings."

"I never said that." She sighed as she now sat at the edge of his bed.

He grins at her, "You implied it."

"Whatever, hucklefuck." She said as she stood up.

She stretched and looked back at him, "Anyway, sappy shit done, that's your dose for the year. You want some palabok? Literally got it delivered, so you better do."

Dennis chuckled as he stood up from his bed too. "Yeah."

And if the two roommates watched a new TV series all night despite having an early shift tomorrow? No one would know except for them. (That's a lie; everyone noticed Santos' grumpy mood and her chugging energy drinks throughout the day.)

Meanwhile on Twitter.... ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

Two types of fans apparently:

Profiles because I'm so used to twitter formatting —

Dennis Whitaker

Trinity Santos

Victoria Javadi

Mel King

The husbands (Jack Abbot and Michael Robinavitch)

Notes:

Start!

A day later

Christ, the absolute uncomplicated delight in the kid's voice momentarily robbed Jack of his own. All he could do was give Dennis his best smile as he approached, taking the time to try to gather himself and find his voice and the words he hadn't bothered to think about.

"Hey, buddy. Yeah, I'm back - was kinda hoping I'd find you again. Was worried you might be done with the circuit by now."

Dennis beamed at him, the force of his tail wags making his whole lower body wiggle. Jack felt his lips twitch in a kind of helpless, happy sympathy.

"Oh, no - this sort of thing usually lasts a few weeks."

Jack obviously did a poor job at hiding his surprise because Dennis giggled.

"I mean, there are competitions and all, and that's fun, but it's not really why most of them come here." At Jack's blank, wary look, Dennis cocked his head and smiled, leaning in a little, and this time there was something about the tilt of his lips that was different. Like looking at a flower whose edges were just starting to brown and wilt.

"It's a time where almost all of the high-profile owners and breeders are together in one place, with their - with us. They trade, they buy and sell. They, um - well, you know."

Jack did not know, and for a moment all he could do was try to look encouraging and open while Dennis' face flushed.

The words from Dennis' handler yesterday pierced through his skull, echoing as clearly as if the man was shouting it into his ear, some kind of vulgar, shrieking ghost at the feast.

"Denny's fit for breeding and his owner is considering offers."

The effort to control the twist of his face - to match the one in his stomach - was like stifling a sneeze on the highway. He wanted nothing more than to react with the full force of his body's horror, to purge the concept like bad food sitting, rotting in his stomach.

Instead, he forced himself to draw his training around himself like a shield, like a set of well-worn scrubs, as he gentled his voice and set his face into something as mild and soft as his racing pulse could manage.

"Of course. I'm sorry, Dennis, I should have remembered. We don't have to talk about that if you don't want to."

Dennis smiled, but it looked like he was dredging it up from somewhere sticky and cloying.

"Or - or if you have any questions." Jack was blurting out before he could even think about it, the impulse so fresh that the other half of his brain barely has time to hope he's not fucking this up or scaring Dennis. "I'm a doctor. Emergency medicine - I'm not a hybrid specialist, but I could still help...make things a little less confusing. If you haven't - I mean, if nobody has explained this to you before."

Christ, he really should have brought Robby with him.

"I've never been covered, if that's what you mean." Dennis is cocking his head up at Jack, so openly enquiring - even with a little bit of a giggle playing at his words at Jack's bashfulness - that his heart aches a little. "I've been away from all that until now. My owner kind of - I don't know, I think they kinda liked having me around, just with them."

There's a quiet, gentle pride there, but as Dennis speaks Jack can see that it's bruised, the damage fresh. Dennis swallows around the words that might have wanted to come after that confession, and as he looks back up at Jack, suddenly appraising, his tail starts to wag.

"But you're a doctor? That's so cool!"

Jack tries to pull his own smile out of his own mire of sticky, dark thoughts, and is pleasantly surprised to find that even after all this time, that tiny flicker of pride at being able to call himself doctor still sparks.

It makes it slightly easier to meet the fascinated sparkle in Dennis' eyes with something real.

"Yeah. Me and Robby - my husband, the man I was with yesterday? We both work in Pittsburgh, in an emergency department. We're only here because there's a medical conference going on upstairs, and sometimes part of the job is being forced to fly to a different city and sit in a room filled with your least favourite people, listening to them talk about your least favourite topics."

Dennis giggled, and his ears twitched like Jack's words had physically tickled something.

"I'm willing to bet there's more hissing, spitting, and fur flying at medical conferences than there is at one of these things." Jack nods his head to encompass their surroundings. "You wouldn't believe how bitchy it can get in clinical academia. Personally, I always think it's a sign of too much time on too many hands."

He puts up both palms and wiggles them in a little jazz hands motion before he can think better of it. He takes a second to thank god that the interns and medical students weren't here to see it - they already give him enough shit for being a boomer, which he has tried to explain many times is patently untrue, but maybe he brings it on himself with shit like this.

Dennis seems to like it though, laughing a genuine and honestly kind of goofy little laugh which makes Jack's own smile start to ache.

"I always thought that doctos were mature, serious people." Dennis volunteers, giving Jack a look that practically twinkles and a little twist of his lips that speaks of trouble. Jack solemnly shakes his head.

"We're all overgrown children with bloated egos and fragile self-esteem. Present company excluded, of course."

"Oh, of course!" Dennis chitters, ears smoothing back earnestly. "You've only been standing here complaining about how all your colleagues are mean and boring. Very mature, super stoic."

The laughter that bubbles out of him is louder than he'd expected, and he ducks his head and tucks his hands in his pockets while he gets it under control. There are little plumes of soft, golden fur drifting in the air around them, because Dennis' tail is wagging so hard.

"You want to see what I get up to at my...'conferences'?" Dennis asks, clearly brimming with excitement and wiggling on his perch.

For the first time, Jack really takes note of what he's wearing. It's an odd, plain white garment, almost shift-like. It's neither baggy nor clingy, instead it seems to drape over the outline of Dennis' body gently, like water. There are strange ties all along the side, almost like you might find on a hospital gown. He blinks, clears the thought from his head at the sight of Dennis' tilted head and eagerly-waiting gaze.

"Hell yeah, buddy, show me what you got."

Dennis makes an odd sound, halfway between a yip and an exhalation of air, shoving himself off his seat and gesturing Jack closer into his little booth. He turns a little display board so it's in Jack's line of sight, and he can see that it's festooned with bright, silky ribbons in every colour and shade imaginable. They all have gold or silver writing stitched in, proclaiming Dennis either first or second place in the 'companion' category.

Jack digs his thumbnail into his palm so hard he feels a slight tackiness start to bead at the nail, but his smile remains firmly in place while Dennis intently studies his face, so the pain in his hand doesn't even matter.

"Holy shit, Dennis, this is all you?" It's a stupid, pointless question, but Dennis is beaming and his tail is wagging as he nods, so once again Jack decides that nothing else matters. "Damn, this is quite the impressive collection. So you're kind of a star, huh?"

That giggle again, although this time it's interrupted by the bustling, harried approach of the man from yesterday, Dennis' so-called 'handler.'

"I'm so sorry - oh, it's you." The man stops short a little even as he fusses at Dennis, urging him to stand and turn even as the man addresses Jack with an expression that's hard to read. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure you'd be back after yesterday."

Jack shrugs, stares back unblinkingly, not willing to offer the standard social niceties about a fake urgent appointment.

"Denny, for - please try to keep your ears still before we go out there. You manage to get all kinds of knots and crinkles in them."

The man picks up a comb and starts worrying at the long, curly strands of fur at the very base of Dennis' ears. Dennis winces at the tug, but smiles at Jack despite the man's sweaty fussing.

The strands look impossibly soft, and Jack wants to twist the curls around his finger and make them more pronounced, even as the comb straightens them out.

"Look, we're just about to go out on the floor, they're calling Dennis' number." The man throws over his shoulder at Jack. "You're welcome to stay and watch, but if you want to pick up where we left off yesterday you'll need to come back on Saturday. We've got appointments immediately after this - well, that's what we're hoping for, isn't it Denny?"

The man gives Dennis a jovial little shove and pat, and Dennis smiles up at him, nodding along, but the smile dips and wavers at the corners and his tail only twitches minutely. He darts a quick glance at Jack, who feels his thumb dig even deeper into the cresent-shaped wound he's making.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the handler is setting down the comb with a sharp, metallic clink and ushering Dennis away from his booth before Jack can even process what is happening.

He sees Dennis glance back over his shoulder as he's tugged away towards the show area, and he tries to school his face into an expression that is reassuring despite the fact that he has none to offer.

Dennis smiles back at him anyway, although his ears remain, as per instruction, perfectly still.

------

Jack follows Dennis and his handler as far as he can before he reaches an area his presence will clearly not be tolerated in, at which point he turns on his heel and finds himself a space at the small 'arena' area that has been cordoned off by a ring of boards with advertising and sponsorship logos splashed all over them. He takes up his post, bracing against the boards with his forearms and prepares to wait. It's at least a relief to be able to take a little weight off his leg, which is starting to protest the heat of the showroom.

He's surpised that he doesn't have to wait long at all, as Dennis' handler enters the show arena at an awkward pace halfway between a power walk and a jog, looking like it's uncomfortable to keep up.

Dennis trots along easily and gracefully at his side, looking like he would happily break into a full run but is locking the desire down tightly.

Someone, somewhere is droning on in an irritatingly loud voice, presumably saying things about Dennis that barely register with Jack, but which he recognises as show language that he wouldn't understand.

What he does understand, is when a two men in smart suits join Dennis and his handler on the floor of the arena, and start touching Dennis.

They greet the handler first, with polite smiles, which he returns stiltedly. The man in charge, clearly some kind of judge based on the uneasy deference the handler is showing him, says nothing to Dennis as he puts both hands on his face and pries open his mouth.

The lines of Dennis' body remain remarkably relaxed, in sharp contrast to Jack's, which has tightened every muscle capable of doing so.

The judge tilts Dennis' head this way and that, runs a finger inside his mouth along his teeth, making Jack clench his own. He runs his hand briskly over Dennis' beautiful soft ears, tugging and turning them to peer inside and then giving him a rough pat in reward. He is quick and far too careless with his hands, considering the effort that had been put into making Dennis look so perfect.

He runs his hand down Dennis' back and grabs his tail at the base, and for some reason Jack can feel something ugly and heavy settling in his stomach, can feel his palms dampening and his pulse starting to pick up a sickly rhythm.

The man pulls Dennis' tail this way and that, ruffling his fingers through the fur. Then he fetches something from his pocket, and Jack's heart and stomach both lurch sickeningly as he takes in the two things that happen next.

One, is that Jack finds out why there were side-ties to the garment that Dennis was wearing, as the man assisting the judge runs his finger down them and unties them with a deftness that makes Jack swallow down something thick and dreadful. The garment hangs loosely on Dennis for a moment before the man tugs it swiftly off without a second thought, leaving Dennis completely naked under the harsh arena lighting. There is no rustle of surprise or discomfort in the audience around him, and Jack wants to shake people, grip all the unfazed faces around him and yell and shout until something moves them.

The second thing that happens, is that Jack sees what the judge was removing from his pocket.

Gloves. Blue, sterile gloves, the same as the hundreds of thousands of pairs that Jack has worn himself over the years.

Jack feels like something large and cold has him in his jaws as his entire body freezes up as he watches the judge immediately reach between Dennis' legs. He pats his thigh once, at which Dennis spreads them just a little, and even reaches out to steady himself on the arm his handler has presented him for support. He bends at the waist slightly.

The judge grips Dennis' genitals like they're nothing more than clay replicas, carelessly and quickly squeezing penis and testicles, before dipping further back to touch his omega anatomy.

He spends far more time there. Jack isn't sure whether to feel grateful or cowardly for the fact that he can't see anything more than the man's hand working mechanically between Dennis' thighs. Dennis' face is blank and unmoving as the man's knuckles disappear and his wrist moves quickly and carelessly.

Jack's not sure how long it lasts, but he's had traumas go south that felt like they went quicker than this.

When the judge removes his hand, wetness glints off the blue glove before it is quickly removed and disposed of. He smiles and shakes hands with Dennis' handler, whose shoulders relax and who returns the smile more genuinely than he had previously.

He gives Dennis a pat on the stomach before resuming that awkward walk-jog out of the arena, Dennis following sedately behind.

Jack stalks along the edge of the advertising border, keeps his eyes locked on Dennis as he exits the show area and into a 'backstage' area only vaguely separated from the rest of the room by larger advertising banners.

He doesn't take his eyes off Dennis until he's gently rebuffed by someone wearing the dark colours of event security.

"I'm sorry, sir - do you have an appointment?"

"What?" He barely spares the security a glance as he scans over their shoulder, desperately trying to keep track of Dennis. He thinks he sees a flash of those reddish-blond curls, but they're getting lost in a sea of other faces and bodies.

"You need to be a pre-approved breeder to access this part of the event, sir." The worst part is that this man looks like he genuinely doesn't want to be breaking this news to Jack.

He fishes around for something to use, some trump card to play.

"I was speaking to Dennis' handler yesterday - I have an alpha I want to stud. He told me Dennis' owner was considering offers."

He sends up some silent plea for forgiveness for even thinking the words, let alone saying them out loud like they were reasonable and didn't leave the back of his teeth feeling sticky.

The man glances down, makes a poor attempt at schooling his own expression before he sighs.

"Look, unless your name is on this list, I can't let you back there. They have appointments booked out for the next three days. Come back on Saturday."

Dennis’ first clue should’ve been the way his head pounded in the morning. His second clue was his fingers twitching. His third clue which was pushing it, was the tiredness and dizziness. For a guy that works in a hospital Dennis can’t seem to recognize the signs for himself. He pushes through his clues, giving them reasons and reasons as to why they happen. “He stayed up too late” “he hasn’t eaten enough” “he’s been standing too long.” His fourth clue that he really should take a break, is when he has an absent seizure, right in the middle of a conversation about a patient with dr. Robby. It last about ten seconds. How does he explain to him that he needs him to slow down what he’s saying cause his brain just decided to reboot itself? And if they could move to a safe location where he could sit down that would be great. But he doesn’t he just nods along to what Robby is saying.

Dennis a little while late realizes he can’t feel his left arm. Which is not great when you’re in the middle of a shift and have no way of getting some where safe by yourself. So Dennis does the thing he wished he never had to. He asked for help. Because if he has a seizure in the middle of shift with no help, hell there’s more chance he’ll die then be found. So he finds Trinity, because she already knows, and tells her. Her eyes go huge with worry and sadness. Dennis thinks this is the worst part,that and the after math if he’s bitten his tongue bad and he can’t feel his limbs correctly. “Dennis are you sure.” She asks. “Positive, can’t feel my arm. It’s gone numb. It’s one of the tell-tell signs.” He confirms. She nods. “Ok. We will get you set into a room. I’m gonna page dr.robby-” “no. Don’t page him. Get someone else.” Dennis says,bitting his lower lips,fuck his whole mouth tastes like pennies. Trinity sighs. “Robby’s the best attending we have.” She says. “I know but I don’t want him to look at me differently.” Dennis says,because fuck does it hurt when you open this part up to someone and then they start treating you like a child. And Dennis just can’t do that with Robby he can’t. “Fine.” She says rolling her eyes and walking him to a bed. Fuck he can feel it starting. “Trin. We’re not gonna make it to the bed.” He whispers. He sees Trinity reaching for him, falling to the ground, hurting, fuck does it hurt so much his bones hurt, he can’t breath, his saliva is in the way. And then he’s out.

Dennis wakes up in a hospital and everything hurts and his mouth tastes like he’s never brushed his teeth before. He’s hooked up to the IV. And when he looks over (which hurts to do) Robby is in the chair by his bed. Fuck. No. No. No. No. This can’t be happening. He wasn’t supposed to find out. Not like this. How do you tell the guy you’re in love with that you have a disability that will never go away and will impact everything you do for the rest of your life? The answer is? You don’t. Until absolutely necessary. Dennis guesses this is quite necessary the time. Robby wakes up with a start. He smiles at Dennis. “You gave us all a fright there kid. Me and Jack have been waiting for you to wake up all night, he’s gonna be pissed he just left.” Robby says. Dennis says it all in one breath. “Im sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want you to think of me any differently I can still do the same things, sometimes I just have to sit while doing them, or lean.” Dennis says. He sucks in a huge gulp of breath. Robby sighs. “I know. It explains your little ‘loading’ spells that every body’s been noticing. Absent seizures huh?” Robby asks. Dennis nods. Jack walks into the room with two cups of coffee and a muffin and a bagel. “You didn’t answer me when I asked you what you wanted so you got a bagel.” He says coming into the room and locking eyes with Dennis. He smiles softly. “Hi pup.” Dennis blushes. He’s in for it now. “did they say when I can be discharged? So I can ask Trinity to come pick me up?” He asks both attendings. They both give each other a look. “About that Dennis,”Jack says slowly, “We got in touch with your neurologist and she says you need to be under 24 hour surveillance for at least a day to make sure no more big seizures happen, and we can’t ask santos to take off work for you. So Robby and I thought you could come stay with us for the day.” Dennis blinks. He must have died and gone to hell. Cause staying at the house of the attendings he’s in love with? Not a good idea. But Jack has a point he’s not supposed to be alone. Especially because he can get kind of down in the dumps about things after a seizure. So. Dennis pushes feelings aside and nods. “Ok. Just to be safe. Because I have no idea what triggered this and I don’t want to be alone if another one happens.” He says which is true. “I know your both attendings but you do now how to distribute emergency seizure meds right?” He asks. They both nod. “Okay,good cause I had to show Trinity.” He says. “We’ve been around a long time Dennis.” Jack smirks. Fuck.

Maybe he could see this scenario playing out in the future, Dennis wanting something unattainable and getting hurt. Maybe he could sense the possibility that Hanahaki was genetic; he didn't know the beatings and punishments wouldn't toughen him out, only make him more fragile like a cracked vase, instead of the unfeeling beast his father wanted him to become, he became another creature entirely. A sinner, a monster with a heart too big, craving affection yet is too afraid to try to take any of the steps needed to get it.

He was a copy of his mother, her legacy and rot spreading to him as well. 

Dennis felt irritated by the sun streaming through the blinds, wishing that it would burn out instead of bother him. Well, maybe that was selfish, but he was currently trying to sleep and didn't have blinds. Trinity would be home sometime soon; he needed all the sleep he could get before that. She hasn't been home recently, spending the nights at Garcia's place and having a blast. He was just happy they were finally together. As much as he enjoyed impromptu ice cream and rom com nights, there was only so much strawberry ice cream you could eat until you felt like your brain was going to melt out from your nose.

He really was happy for Trinity, she was like an older sister to him. She deserved better things than what she had (than Dennis). Her now girlfriend treated her amazingly, matching her whit to a T. He was even happy they didn't come over to the apartment, he had been sick of hearing the bedframe slam against the thin wall of her bedroom for three hours every night he had a shift, he also didn't miss the awkward mornings of trying to cohabite with someone you didn't know that well.

As much as he was happy for her, he still felt alone sometimes. When the TV is going, and the sound of only one person's fork hits the side of the Chinese to-go box while you are hearing yourself chew, is often a very humbling experience for a creature as clingy as he is.

Dennis didn't want to check the time, knowing that if he were to check the time then he would just piss himself off. Dennis's breathing stuttered at the familiar tickle of a dormant cough messed with the back of his throat with a vengeance, he knew what he had, saw the signs, knew them like the back of his hand. He had Hanahaki: The killer Flower disease, an already freakish creature growing plants out of his lungs. He knew the symptoms; he was the closest to his mother after all. Knew how she had started to cough more and more, keeping a handkerchief near her with the excuse to embroider, no one else noticing the light blue fabric had been stained maroon a few months time.

She had tried to hide it from him, her own reason for it he didn't know or have access to, she never wrote about anyone in her journals, other than her.

The woman she had died for, had made countless sketches and poems dedicated to the wife of Pastor John. Lillian Carter, he remembered her briefly from a few sermons, blue eyed with long curly brown hair that always caught in the sun. Short, sweet, taught the children English and math, the complete opposite of his mama. When she had died it had become obvious who she had died for, his momma did everything with Ms Lily. Attached at the hip, ‘Sisters’ was their label for a very long time. Until the truth came out, the town had gossiped until Ms Lily had hung herself in the apple orchard, a spot they used to take Dennis to play marbles.

The scandal was put on the back burner after that, the older generations knowing to quiet once Pastor John took a younger, meeker wife. He had left soon after pastor John remarried, not able to look at the girl he used to sit next to during English. Though it wasn't just her, he left because of everything about that little broken place. The comparisons of him to both Ms Lily and momma from the old sourpuss, Mr Baker.

“You look just like ‘em Dennis! Could be their secret affair baby or somethin!” He would shout a little too close to his ear, his shop always smelled of chewing tobacco and stale piss from the man's lack of hygiene. Half deaf and half blind, yet still peddling booze for the towns folk despite his lack of customer service, he never knew how to shut up. It was why papa would send Dennis to get the beer instead of going himself. Mr Baker could tear anyone apart without consequences.

But that didn't mean he was wrong about what he said sometimes. He knew he didn't come from them both but he remembered how they treated him like their own. Ms Lily clearly being so in love with his mama too it made him giggle whenever she sang nursery rhymes, changing the lyrics to be ballads for his mama.

He wouldn't have that kind of love with his attendings, not the opportunity to love and make poetry and art for the couple he loved. He had some similarities, but he doesn't have a chance. Not like his Mama and Ms Lily did, not until-

“Huckleberry! You asleep still or what?!” Trinity's voice echoed around the apartment, bouncing off the walls until it reached his ears.

“In my room!” He called, a hand weakly trailing up to echo the sound so it went farther into the hallway.

Trinity peered around the corner, head peaking through the door checking he was fully dressed before stepping inside. “Are you jerking off? Why are you laying here doing nothing like a weirdo?” She joked, walking over to him to poke his forehead. He laughed, grabbing her wrist slightly before fake coughing on her hand.

There were brief times he heard Trinity scream, like the massive cockroach under the fridge from three months ago. The screech she had emitted had been so loud he had run out from the shower, towel around his waist and soap in his hair thinking Trinity had been in danger (what he thought he would do if she was, he still didn't know). She had been on top of the counter throwing knives from the knife block at it, he had killed it swiftly showing it mercy than than Trinity would have if she had managed to somehow cut it in half. He hasn't talked with her about it since then, holding onto that card in case he needed some kind of blackmail in the future.

She screeched like a banshee this time too, pulling her wrist away like he had burned her. He laughed when she gently hit him, sensing her humor in it because when she really was pissed she could leave a bruise that would last a month. She had to be tough growing up, though that would normally throw off others it wouldn't throw off Dennis who was raised by his father: the ultimate believer of ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’. Trinity, unlike his father, was kind, her heart was filled with liquid gold. They were good around each other, best friends until the end, or rather his end.

“Huckleberry? You good? Look, you're gonna shit yourself.” She asked, concern lacing her face, as she crossed her arms.

Oh, he hadn't even noticed he stopped laughing.

“Sorry Trin, just a bit tired. Think I'm coming up with something.” He gave, not going into much detail other than nudging his nose. She deflated with that, eyes softening as she uncrossed her arms.”Huck, we can always cancel if you're gonna get me sick, Yolo would be pissed if I brought that home.” She said, eyes trailing along the room and stopping on the leather box which he had left out, the dark brown stains of old blood staining the surface of the leather. 

“No! I-i’m good to hang out tonight!” He said, putting on a smile as he arranged the covers enough to allow him to get up and stand beside Trinity. The girls eyes quickly refocusing on him, suddenly guarded again. She gave a stiff nod, before leaving his room.

Dennis sighed, grabbing onto the box and using as much force as he could to slide it back under his bad without moving. The box clanking slightly against whatever else was under there once it had finally reached it's destination.

Ready to turn back and face the music.

The music being Trinity and her barrage of questions she was bound to have just from the box alone.

“HUCKLEBERRY, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE BEFORE I ORDER FOR YOU” Trinity’s gruff voice sounded out through the apartment.

“C-Coming!” He stuttered, taking one last look at the box, finally booking it out of his room before he became the source of Trinity's ire.

Though he may have been a minute too late from where she had been thumbing a countertop for dust. “What is this? Did you even clean when I was gone?” She spat, looking back at Dennis and holding her thumb and forefinger up as if she was presenting evidence. She was, but that didn't mean he liked it.

“I didn't have time.” Dennis said, willing his voice not to shake. He hated lying, hated lying to Trinity more.

“Oh bullshit!-” Trinity said throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You have been lying around doing absolutely buttfuck nothing! What has been going on with you?!” Her voice filled with worry she hadn't been to mask fast enough.

“Nothing has been happening, I've just been-” he was interrupted by her scoffing loud enough to make him stop, looking up at her.

“What down in the dumps because you found out your crush is married? Doesn't mean you mope over it forever, we can take you out clubbing or something to help you get over it! Just say the word!” She said hands trailing through her hair, as she started to pace back and forth in the small kitchenette. The uncomfortable tickle in his throat increased at the mention of the attending.

“I don't feel comfortable third wheeling you and Garcia.” he muttered, already uncomfortable with this interaction. He didn't like confrontation, especially about his own shitty actions.

“You would not be third wheel-” 

“I would! You would just turn it into another date night I just happened to be around for!” he shouted, wincing at how loud his voice had gotten. Choosing to lower it for both of their sakes. Hoping to end this and eat shitty food and laugh at love island. 

“I'm happy she loves you, but sometimes it just feels like your rubbing it in my face.” He admitted, a hand rubbing at his arm in an attempt to soother the uncomfortable feeling welling up in his skin 

“.. That's how you feel?” she whispered, heartbreak filling her voice as she looked up at him. “My happiness is too much for you?” tears filling her eyes as she made eye contact with him.

“Trin no! I didn't mean it like tha-” his eyes widened at the implication, he could never be upset with her about that, though he couldn't directly express that as she continued.

“You want me to just be stupid old mopey Trinity Santos, eat takeout on the couch to help you feel needed! You feel wanted?!” She shouted, not pacing anymore but just furiously motioning with her hands as she did whenever she was truly upset.

“Trinity-”

“Let me tell you this Dennis! No one else was willing to help you when I found you! Not Robby, not Dana, not Mel, but me! Even at my worst I somehow found the energy to be your friend no matter how exhausting you were!” She shouted, eyes widening as she hugged herself. Silence settling around them, as Dennis's breath hitched.

“You-” he stopped, voice cracking slightly. “You think I'm exhausting?” he asked, clutching his hand to his chest.

“I-” she paused, turning away from him. “I'm going to Yolo’s place, don't wait up.” She practically ran towards the door, grabbing her purse and jacket and leaving the apartment like Dennis had lit her on fire.

The sound of the door slamming behind her sounded deafening in the still air.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, choosing to return back to his room. Practically sprinting towards his desk while trying to get his wallet and nearly dead phone before returning to the kitchen.

His mother had journals, to keep track of the stages, of the rot, of her thoughts of her partner. He needed some, to be kept in the box. To account everything, not as an excuse but maybe as a reason for his terrible sinful behavior.

‘exhausting’

‘exhausting' 

‘What down in the dumps because you found out your crush is married?’

The faces of his mother and Ms Lily filled his mind, smiling and leaning on each other. A sob wracked his body, curling in on himself as a wave of weakness spread through his body like wild fire. Face squished against the hard wood of the desk as he sobbed harder at the realization that even without knowing she has hit the nail right on the head, he was exhausting and selfish, wanted both Dr Robby and Dr Abbott with everything in his bones.

This wasn't like his Mama and Ms Lily, where they loved each other so clearly that how they couldn't have run away together was an impossible thought if he ignored the fact that it happened. This wasn't like that, he had no chance of getting either Abbot or Robby, let alone both.

He found his wallet under a yellow college book notebook. Pausing as the gears in his brain began to turn.

He needed journals, Dennis obviously couldn't outright tell people what was happening, the best he could do was explain in the journals similar to his mother did. Maybe after his death the journals would be donated to the specialist in California for study.

He could document it better than his mother had, he was a doctor for Christ sake. If he was dying then he could at least help other people.

Dennis wiped the tears off his face, willing the cough that wanted to emerge down. He couldn't allow the flowers to control him, not this early. He still had work to do, and he wasn't about to allow his own shitty body to fuck that up for him yet.