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hollis tries not to think about her father's heart attack. keeps her head down whenever she walks past the trauma bay he had coded in, keeps her hands away from anything even remotely heart related and avoids doctor dante headrick like the plague. she's professional, of course, but won't ever go out of her way to interact with him. truthfully, hollis doesn't blame him for her father's death, not really. but her own guilt weighs down on her so heavily, the nights she stays up telling herself it had been her fault his heart had given out, that sometimes it's easier to put just a little bit of that blame on someone else â even if she knows that there wasn't anything, medically, that could have been done for him.
hollis doesn't break stride as the trauma bay doors whoosh open, tugging a pair of gloves on and shouldering her way into the chaos. the smell of blood cuts through the antiseptic and it doesn't take long for her to find the source. "jesus christ," she murmurs under her breath, quiet enough to be drowned out by the background noise. the patients lower leg is a mess â bone sticking out through torn skin, swelling already beginning to set in and hollis finds herself just a little thrilled â apologies to the patient â that she gets to be on the case. "what's his pulse?" she asks, glancing up before kneeling down to the injury, hands hovering as she assesses. "he's gonna need an or sooner than later." unless he wants to go home missing half his leg. "the swelling is already starting to spread." she looks up again, eyes finding the attending in the room. "what happened?"
hollis swears she can feel the moment that her mother stepped back into the hospital. something sharp sliding through the air, her spine straightening at that addison westbrook feeling in the atmosphere. it's something she is far too familiar with and she isn't sure how it feels to have it back now. it's familiar â comforting almost, sharp edges and all because that's her mom. but at the same time, it's suffocating â pressing down on her lungs until it hurts to breathe because that's her mom and they haven't seen each other since they buried her father. the workplace isn't exactly an ideal reunion site.
it doesn't take long for their paths to cross â ortho and trauma are hand in hand most days. she isn't entirely sure what she was expecting but addison looks exactly the same as she always has â composed, collected, immaculate... it's almost as if the last few months haven't happened at all if it weren't for the henry westbrook shaped hole in both of their hearts. she watches her carefully as her mother consults with their patient, a surgical plan put into place before they find themselves in the hallway together, alone. her hands hover uselessly at her sides, unsure if she should reach out for the woman or not before shoving them into her scrub pockets. "hey," it sounds stupid even to her and hollis resists the urge to cringe. "i didn't know you were back in new york. i would have called... we could have gotten together... before now."
hollis stands at the central hub, one hand braced against the counter and the other using just a little too much force as she works her way through chart notes on an ipad, the pencil hitting the surface with a rhythm of sharp taps. the hospital is crazy as usual â a symphony of ringing phones and chiming monitors accompanied by the shouts of angry patients and the hushed arguments from staff about bed availability. it's the kind of chaos that might leave a person feeling overwhelmed if they hadn't been primed for it since birth â which hollis had been, thank you very much. it's all background noise to her, almost comforting in a way thanks to how familiar it is. she flips the ipad closed, shoving it back into it's holder before running a hand through her hair, the blonde strands already coming loose from the poor attempt she'd made to keep them contained hours ago. "if one more person pages me without actually reading a chart, i'm gonna start charging a consult fee," she huffs out, tilting her head at harper curiously â half joking, but also... maybe not. "which med student do you think would be most likely to slip me a fifty if i invoiced them?"
this is fucking stupid. that's the only thing running through taren's mind as she walks through the hospital's doors, scanning her badge and scowling at the security officer who's literally just doing his job â but she's pissed off. this isn't the first time she's been late to work, far from it, but it certainly ranks in the top five shittiest mornings of all time. the subway isn't running so she'd walked twenty blocks to the hospital, spilled her coffee all over her when some asshole knocked into her, and for the grand finale â a bus sprayed dirty puddle water directly at her. so she looks like shit and desperately needs a shower, but she's scrubbing in on a valve repair in twenty minutes and there's simply no time.
it's hard to ignore the looks taren's getting as she stomps through the halls, but finally she manages to get out of the crowd and of course the only other person in the locker room is princess hollis westbrook. gag. a snarky comment lands on the tip of her tongue the second the blonde comes into view, but taren checks herself â and it's the hardest thing she's ever done. instead, she tries her best to smile (it doesn't work that well), and offers up a "hey." she and hollis may no longer be friends â in fact, taren would classify them as mortal fucking enemies â but she can't deny she has some sympathy for hollis. she's known the westbrook family since her first days in med school, has been to their houses (a plural that she'll never get over) and laughed in their kitchen at mr. westbrook's dad jokes. so she's had at least some sympathy for hollis these past few weeks, even though it feels unnatural to offer it. "i, uh â" taren coughs, not sure what the hell to do with the awkward silence between them, but now that's she's opened this can of warms, she's gotta follow through with saying something. "you hear there's donuts down in the ED? horrible fucking bribe on admin's part but i honestly might go steal one anyway if you wanna come."
her nerves are shot. hollis slept like shit the night before, up all night and wandering up and down the halls of her apartment, repeating her night time routine five separate times in an attempt to trick her brain into shutting down in hopes of getting a little bit of shut eye â no such luck. instead of drifting off each time she was tucked beneath the down duvet, she found herself tossing and turning mind racing with far too many thoughts to handle. almost all of them, of course, centred around her mother and her return to the hospital. she hasn't seen addison since they buried her father. hasn't had the balls to call her while she'd been hiding out in maine, afraid of what would greet her from the other line. hollis westbrook is nothing if not avoidant and this had been no exception. but, like everything always does, it is catching up to her now.
so really, with all of that in mind, the last person she wants to see right now is taren. once the very dearest person to her, they can hardly be in the same room anymore without someone drawing blood â usually metaphorically, sometimes literally. she doesn't have the mental bandwidth for their usual sparring and she rushes to pull her scrub top over her under shirt so she can make a break for it but then â is that a smile? she can't help herself. she raises an eyebrow at taren's expression. and she laughs â a little dry but not quite a scoff or something mean and her head gives the smallest of shakes. "yeah, sure." why not. "i could use the sugar." her brain feels clouded, every thought muddled. her stethoscope slings around her neck before pulling her back back with a claw clip. "you think they cheaped out again and bought the day olds from walmart?"
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someone page hollis westbrook now ! we got a trauma incoming , what do you mean you donât know ? surgical resident, the thirty year old who looks like mia healey, theyâve been here at the harbour for five years now specialising in orthopedics. no ? jesus , move iâll do it . how do you not know them , they're resilient & insecure . get back to work , theyâre on their way .
full name. hollis abigail westbrook. age. thirty. gender. cis woman. pronouns. she / her. sexuality. lesbian. dob. november 13, 1995. religion. catholic. occupation. surgical resident. specialty. ortho.
trigger warnings: religious trauma & internalized homophibia.
hollis westbrookâs life has never truly felt like her own. born and raised in new york city, she was the youngest daughter of a wealthy and tightly wound family. her father, henry, is a third generation financier with deep roots and even deeper pockets, known for building investment portfolios and shaking hands at charity functions. her mother, addison, is a world renounced trauma surgeon. with two parents with demanding jobs, the westbrook sisters often times found themselves in the care of their maternal grandparents who veered on the more traditional side of life than henry and addison. hollis, especially, spent many of her afterschool days with her grandmother â a god-fearing woman who never worked outside of the home choosing instead to follow the traditional path as a homemaker, always happy to write a cheque for a godly cause or host a charity luncheon. secretly, she had hoped her youngest granddaughter would follow in her footsteps. she was groomed for her sunday best, enrolled in private school and taught to keep her feelings buried and her spine straight.
her childhood was pristine â glittering chandeliers and church pews, summers on the water in maine. the westbrook family was known for their strong morals, their work ethic and all being sharp as a whip. but hollis always felt just a little bit out of place. always felt like she was wearing a mask, putting on a performance for those around her and she learned early on that she could not, under any circumstances, let that mask slip. she spent the first two decades of her life drowning in a shame she couldnât name, hands clasped in prayer and begging a god she couldnât relate to to take away the feelings she was too afraid to acknowledge. when those prayers went unanswered and she felt her eyes still drawn towards the other girls in school, hollis threw herself into her academics and sports, discovering a love for science and movement that would eventually lead her to pursue a degree in kinesiology. while her grandmother had been disappointed, her parents had been thrilled, even more so when she got into medical school. the charade had been wearing on her by then, but the way they looked at her in that moment, acceptance letter in hand, made her think maybe she could carry it on a little longer.Â
medicine gave her direction, and surgery gave her purpose. hollis excelled under pressure, drawn to the precision and pace of the operating room. her years at boston university went by far too quickly for her liking. all nighters, frat parties and clinical labs â hollis excelled there. finally felt like she was free to be herself in an honest way she never had before. boston was far enough away from home that she didnât feel paranoid any time her gaze lingered on a pretty woman on the train or, eventually, when sheâd begun experimenting with her sexuality. but before she knew it, she was donning her cap and gown and walking into the next chapter. hollis knew that harbour view metropolitan medical was an amazing hospital â that anyone who was matched there would be lucky. she had just, secretly, hoped that she wouldnât be one of them. mostly she had them on her list to appease her mother but the godâs cruel sense of humour had the youngest westbrook packing her things and moving back to new york city for a surgical residency.
to say she regressed would be an understatement. hollis folded herself back into an old version of herself, fitting into the box her family had made for her and feeling bogged down the entire time. her grandmother would go on to introduce her to the man she would almost marry â his name is nate, a sweet man on track to be a family lawyer. he proposed during her third year of her residency, just one year after they began dating and hollis played the role of excited bride to be. hollis loved him â still does â the problem was, she couldnât make herself be in love with him no matter how much she tried. and she tried â again and again and again. for years. the guilt ate away at her, crawling up her ribcage and wrapping around her spinal cord, squeezing every time nate kissed her goodbye in the morning. the longer she tried to live someone elseâs life, the more hollow she felt and by her late twenties, the truth was undeniable. hollis couldnât imagine going into another decade of her life pretending to be someone she wasnât. she called off the wedding in the summer of 2025, just three months before they were supposed to wed.Â
it wasnât a clean break. her grandmother looks at her differently now and she cost her parents hundreds of thousands of dollars in vendor deposits they will never get back, but hollis finally felt like she could breathe without inhaling shards of glass â until her father dropped dead of a heart attack. a woman of science, hollis has read his chart a million times. she knows there is a history of heart disease in the family, knows he had high cholesterol and refused to change his diet, knows his high stress job didnât help anything â but a little voice in the back of her head tells her, day in and day out, that she had been the tipping point for him. that the financial stressor and having to explain, over and over again, that no, his daughter wasnât getting married, was what made his heart give out two months ago.Â
when her mother disappeared, hollis resisted the urge to chase after her, sure that the woman wouldnât want to see any of them, especially her. instead, she threw herself into her work again â building up a reputation for herself of brilliant intensity, an attentive and competitive student who may sometimes be a little unorthodox but always effective. she thrives in the chaos of the hospital, unraveling only in the silence that she goes home to each night. things arenât perfect, sheâs still sorting out the patchwork of grief and guilt, wadding into self-acceptance and building something real. the vulnerability of it all terrifies her, afraid of finding herself in another situation where she could lose everything, but hollis wants to try anyways, to build connections and a life for herself that is truly authentic.Â
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