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Fic: singing in unison
This is the first fic I've written for it but I don't think it'll be the last. The sad eyes have bewitched me body and soul.
singing in unison (5132 words) by dotsayers
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Jack Abbot & Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Jake & Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Characters: Dana Evans, Jack Abbot (The Pitt), Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Dennis Whitaker, Samira Mohan, Trinity Santos, Cassie McKay, Melissa "Mel" King, Jake (The Pitt), Perlah (The Pitt)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Medical Jargon, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, POV Multiple, No Beta We Die Like. Well. A Lot Of People, Aftermath of Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Canon-Typical Violence
Summary:
Leah's sick the night before Pittfest. Robby gets his ticket back.
Dana shouts, "And where the fuck is Robby?" across the ER about fifteen seconds before Dr King bursts through the double doors from triage. She's just got off the phone with Family Medicine where an actual fucking fight broke out between a gunshot victim and a crush injury, which is so not her problem and yet the attending just had to call down for extra security when there's a fucking active shooter—
"Dr Robinavitch is in the ambulance bay," says Dr King, breaking Dana out of her spiral. Her tone is forceful, like she's talking past something in her throat.
"Jesus," says Dana. Her PPE gown is stuck to the back of her neck, sweat soaked and itching like crazy, and the velcro on the hi-viz vest caught a hangnail when she was shoving it on. Her face fucking hurts where some asshole took out six hours in a waiting room on her and she really is going to quit, this time, and fucking Robby just waltzed into an MCI two hours late with fucking Starbucks, no doubt. "Well, what's the holdup? We need him in here, in case you couldn't tell."
Dr King is looking at her with wide eyes. She looks like fucking Bambi. "Um, I think I need to clarify." She glances over her shoulder at the double doors, clearly anxious to get back to triage - and no wonder, when the cars are slowing down and the last few cases need to be assessed. "When I said he was in the ambulance bay, I, um, I meant he's just been triaged. Response to pain, unconscious. I put the wristband on myself." She brushes her hands over her chest, dragging the bloodstains down. "Um, I thought I should get the word out. I know he's pretty important to everyone here? So, um, yeah." She turns on her heel and strides out of the ER, from the nightmare in here to the nightmare out there.