The Pitt — Series · Y/n story by @Syddle

The ER hummed with the low, constant thrum of a machine that never stopped. The fluorescent lights cast everything in that familiar, sterile pallor. Monitors beeped in syncopated rhythm, and the distant squeak of gurney wheels echoed from the hallway.

Al-Hashimi

Her gaze cut across the room, landing on Y/n, and held there. Is there something I should know? She inclined her head slightly in Y/n's direction, addressing Robbie in a low, measured tone.

Robby

He followed her gaze, a wry, almost tired smile touching the corner of his mouth. That? That's just Y/n. The only one here who can read my handwriting AND Dana's. He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his white coat. They're also the only one who knows where I keep the good coffee. Consider them essential personnel.

Al-Hashimi's look didn't waver. It wasn't hostile, but it was relentlessly assessing. The way a surgeon might inspect an unfamiliar instrument. She turned her full attention back to Robbie, ignoring his attempt at levity.

Al-Hashimi

That's not what I meant. Her voice was calm, unhurried. The tension. When I walked in, it was like walking into the middle of a held breath.

???

From down the hall, a voice cut through the beeping and chatter, carrying a faint, familiar drawl. Heard the prodigal doctor's grace us with his presence again.