Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Just like every winter, a flu virus had ravaged the Pittsburgh Trauma Center ER. Over the course of a week it had taken out 3 residents, 5 nurses, and the entirety of the intern class. Charlie had managed not to get it the first time around, but by the end of her last shift, when everyone had finally returned from their sick leave, Charlie felt the tickle start in the back of her throat. The other nurses were constantly teasing her about her extra-vigilant hand-washing, masking, and sanitizing, but her diligence had allowed her to survive her first year as a nurse without any infections…until now.  

She jogged to catch up with Perlah on the way out of the ER, bumping her with a light elbow. “Perls, I have a bad feeling about this…I think the ER is finally taking me down.”

“Ach, finally!” She said with a gentle, teasing smile. “We were betting on how long it took you to take your first sick day. You think you got the flu going around?”

Charlie grimaced, “Yeah, and at the rate it took down everyone else, I’m not going to make it in Monday.”

Perlah squeezed Charlie into a quick side hug before they split to go to their cars. “Do you have everything you need? Fluids, Kleenex, Tylenol?”

“I think so! Just going to hunker down and do my best not to die,” Charlie laughed.

“I’m going to text you and see how you feel this weekend, and if you don’t answer I will come and kick your door down,” Perla threatened with another smile.

Charlie gave her a parting smile, but when she got to her car, she just sat for a minute to try to contain her anxiety. She had been inspired to become a nurse after spending a lot of time in hospitals in college, battling and beating breast cancer as a young 22-year-old. She had actually met Dr. Robinavitch for the first time when an infection was ravaging her immunocompromised body and she had collapsed in the waiting room, “causing wholly unnecessary drama,” as Robby had joked. The cancer treatment had left her with radiation-scarred lungs that tended to flare up with any common infection, so Charlie lived most of her life dreading getting sick.

Being a nurse was maybe not the best career choice for someone in her condition, but for Charlie, there was never a second option. The nurses that had cared for her were the strongest, kindest, hardest-working people she had ever met, and joining their ranks was the most natural transition in the world. Robby did his best to keep tabs on her, checking in during shifts and trying to keep her away from infectious patients where he could—although of course, that wasn’t always possible.

By the time she got back to her apartment, Charlie had a pounding headache, and she immediately wrapped herself in a blanket and passed out on the couch. The cough started around 3 am, and the fever followed a few hours later, so by noon the next day Charlie was feeling like absolute shit. She was trying to force down liquids to stay hydrated, chasing cough syrup with bottles of gatorade, and like any good nurse, she kept a record of her fluid intake and med schedule. That was the extent of what her brain could accomplish in this state—the cold had taken over, filling her brain with cotton and making time go slipping and sliding outside of its normal bounds.

Perlah texted her Sunday morning, as promised, and Charlie sent back a single poop emoji. It wasn’t much, but it communicated quite effectively how she was feeling. The fever had reached the triple digits, and the cough had gotten painful—like her lungs were being torn open alveoli by alveoli. She slept most of the day again, somehow remembering to text Dana that she wouldn’t be coming in—Charlie wasn’t sure her voice would hold out for a proper conversation.

Around midnight, Charlie woke up with a coughing fit so bad that she couldn’t catch her breath. Her anxiety spiked as she desperately rummaged in her bedside drawer for an emergency inhaler, and it took two doses of bronchodilator for her breathing to fully relax. Falling back on her pillows, Charlie was exhausted, but also on high alert. She analyzed each breath, trying to detect any hint of a wheeze and swallow down each cough before it ripped out of her.

The radiation from breast cancer had burned out the cancerous tissue, but also burned part of her lung that had been in the way. It was unavoidable, but the consequences had been brutal. Even clearing her throat could bring on a coughing fit so bad it felt like her lungs were trying to leave her body. Now this cold was running rampant in her body, and Charlie was well-aware what could happen if it got worse.

She hauled her pillows and blankets to the couch, bringing her inhaler with her, and just…sat. There wasn’t much else to do when you were miserable and agonizing over every breath. It was infuriating that normal people could settle in and muddle through, but she lived on the knife’s edge of wondering if her lungs could take the abuse. She clutched her inhaler in one hand and phone in the other, just…waiting.

She did manage to doze off, but was woken again around 8:00 AM with a coughing fit bad enough to warrant the inhaler again. It was her third dose, and her nurse’s brain was already raising warning flags—the recommended dosage was no more than four puffs a day, and at this rate, Charlie would hit that before noon. She knew that something needed to change, so she dragged herself to her feet to try and take some more cold medicine and get her body some kind of sustenance. She was lightheaded with fever, but in the back of her mind she recognized it was probably also due to the fact she hadn’t been able to eat anything all weekend.

Her team in the pit would have started their shift by now, and Charlie would have given anything to be there with them. She found an applesauce pouch in the fridge, the only food that she could currently swallow without gagging, and sucked it down, quite proud of herself for accomplishing the small task.

Tired of being vertical, she tossed herself back onto the couch, but when the air was forced out of her lungs, she realized it was a mistake. The coughs came quick and strong, forcing her to roll off the couch onto her knees, bracing against the cushion. To her horror, she tasted blood in the mucus she coughed up, and could see a tinge of pink in the tissue. She took the fourth puff of her inhaler, but it barely made a difference, and she knew the decision was made for her…Charlie was going back to work. Some oxygen, some of the heavy-hitting meds, and an IV, and she would be feeling so much better.

She found her old IV-accessible sweatshirt in the back of her closet, grateful she hadn’t gotten rid of it, and packed a small bag with headphones, her charger, and the massive file of her full medical record…just in case. She was getting jittery about the prospect of being a patient again, and wasn’t sure she could stomach sitting in the waiting room. But what use was being a nurse if you couldn’t take advantage of it?

She texted Dana as she walked to her car, Coming in, flu, hard to breathe. Be there in ten.

And yeah, maybe she shouldn’t be driving, but there’s no fucking way she could afford an ambulance, and even an uber at surge pricing was pushing her budget. She drove at a snail’s pace and gratefully pulled into the last spot in the staff lot without incident. As she climbed out of the car, she had to turn around and brace herself against the door as another cough wracked her body. She had been pathetically hoping that maybe Dana or Perlah would be there to greet her, maybe with a wheelchair, but sneaking in the side staff entrance she was instead met with chaos. Two ambulances were unloading at the same time with gnarly looking traumas, and the board showed every cubicle was full.

Sighing, she was making her way towards the nurses’ desk to collapse when Robby and Dr. McKay rushed by with one of the traumas on a gurney. “Charlie?” Robby asked, his eyes darkening in concern as he took in her uncertain state. “What the hell happened to you?” He let McKay push ahead and grabbed Charlie’s arms gently, supporting her as she coughed and tried to curl in on herself.

“Flu,” she gasped hoarsely, “wheezing.”

Robby looked over his shoulder at the trauma, and took a second to decide. “Can you find yourself a bed? I’ll be there in five minutes, I swear.” Charlie nodded, and Robby squeezed her arms before stepping away. “Get an oxygen mask and a pulse ox on until I can get to you.”

Charlie leaned back against the wall, searching for an open room, but it was making her head spin. The staff lockers were a few steps away, and she found herself stumbling blindly into the hallway, not realizing how dizzy she had gotten. She practically fell onto the bench, immediately leaning forward and holding her head over her knees as she coughed violently again. The coughing had changed in the last hour—it was burning, shredding her lungs into ribbons, and it wasn’t bringing in nearly enough air.

“Holy shit,” she heard from behind her. Glancing up, she eyed Langdon coming around the corner and kneeling in front of her. His fingers briefly found the pulse in her wrist, and then she felt his stethoscope on her back. “Charlie, can you hear me?”

She nodded, tears leaking from her eyes as she fully started to panic. “Can’t….breathe,” she gasped.

Dr. Langdon nodded calmly, “You’re wheezing, I can hear that. We’re going to get you to a bed and get some oxygen on, alright?” She nodded, and started to stand before Langdon gently pushed her back down. “Stay put, I’m going to be right back.” He peeked his head around the corner and called out, “Hey, Matteo, get a wheelchair in here, now!”

He was back at Charlie’s side in a second, as her coughs turned into gagging dry heaves. “Can you hold your breath for me?” His face sobered as he listened with the stethoscope again. “Exhale, then take a deep breath for me?” Charlie exhaled in with a whimper, and could only take in a short, shallow breath before hacking and gagging again.

She was panicking at the lack of oxygen, and hadn’t even noticed Matteo lifting her under the shoulders and into the wheelchair until they were moving. “Tranquila, Charlie,” he murmured in her ear, patting her shoulder.

Dana met the chair at the bed and helped transfer Charlie over, a worried look on her normally stoic face. “Thought you took the day off, babe?” Someone had put an oxygen mask on her, and Charlie felt her lungs relax for the first time since she had arrived. She leaned back, trying to focus her wild eyes on the trio that was intently watching her. She had somehow hung onto her bag, and pulled out the file, weakly shoving it at Dana. The charge nurse picked up the file and was paging through it. “Frank, look at this—radiation induced lung injury secondary to radiotherapy for breast cancer. She’s got scarring.”

Dr. Langdon grabbed an X ray from the file and held it up to the light, looking at the pocket of white in Charlie’s left lung. Charlie craned her neck to look, unfortunately setting off another explosion of coughing, and she felt Matteo’s strong arms holding her upright. At some point, her abdominal muscles had given up, and were barely supporting her. “We’ve got you babe,” Dana said, wiping spit from under mask, “Just relax. We’re gonna take care of you.”

“She’s got a fever,” Matteo reported, still supporting Charlie’s shoulders.

“And there’s blood in the sputum,” Dana said, looking at the gauze she had used to wipe Charlie’s chin. Dana quickly took her temp and frowned, “102. Charlie, have you been taking anything?” Charlie nodded. “Tylenol?” Another nod. “500mg?” Charlie weakly pointed upwards. “1000?” She nodded. “How long ago?” Charlie just shrugged, and Dana rubbed her leg comfortingly. “That’s okay, Charlie, that’s great.” Dana slipped a pulse oximeter onto her finger and stepped back, talking quietly with Langdon and paging through the rest of her file.

Charlie felt her eyes closing as she really began feeling the effects of the hypoxia. Matteo shook her shoulder softly, then harder. “Charlie! Gotta stay awake a little longer, okay?”

When Charlie opened her eyes, Matteo was leaning her forward, and Robby had appeared, holding his stethoscope to her back. “Hey Charlie. Not feeling so good, huh?” Matteo eased her back onto the gurney again and stepped away as Robby moved his stethoscope to her chest, just below her collarbone. “Sats at 86, definitely wheezing, with some crepitus on the left side,” he noted. “Have you used your inhaler today?” Charlie nodded, trying to let her eyes close again. “Not yet, Charlie,” Robby commanded gently, shaking her arm. “Did you max it out? Yeah? Okay, we’re going to get you some relief.”

Relief sounded great. She wasn’t sure her lungs could take any more punishment, and her brain was screaming for either oxygen or something a little less…alert. Charlie couldn’t figure out how things had gone downhill so fast, but she was infinitely glad that she had made it to the pit. Dana started an IV (on her first try, bless that woman), and rubbed Charlie’s arm while some medications were added, trying to relieve the burning feeling. “Hurts,” Charlie choked out, almost a whisper.

Robby leaned over, capturing Charlie’s meandering gaze. “Give it a second, let the meds work.” His stethoscope was out again, still listening. “Inhale for me?” Charlie took in the deepest breath she could, but it got stuck on the way in, and she coughed again…and again…and again. She ended up gagging, her throat exhausted, and spitting blood-tinged phlegm into a basin. She felt Matteo tuck the aspirator into her mouth, trying to help clear her airway. They were all talking to her, touching her, trying to comfort her, but she was about to pass out from the sheer pain that was ripping through her chest.

“Jesus, kid,” Robby said, eyeing what she had coughed up. “You don’t do things halfway, do you?” He was smiling, but couldn’t hide the worry from his eyes. “Alright. Your lungs sound awful, but we’re not going to intubate you just yet. We’re going to keep monitoring. Blood oxygen is still low, we really need to get that back up. And we’re going to get you on some broad-spectrum antibiotics. Dr. Langdon, take some cultures and send them to the lab to see what we’re dealing with.”

Charlie felt a tear slip out of her eye, but Dana was there to quickly wipe it away. “Hey you, don’t worry about a thing. We’re gonna take care of you. Just close your eyes and relax.” Robby was nodding, and Charlie saw that Perlah and Princess had joined Matteo and Frank in the cluster at the end of the bed. “Rest now. We got you.” Charlie smiled slightly, and gladly let herself drift into sleep, surrounded by her team.

Chapter Text

Charlie woke up abruptly almost an hour later, feeling like she was trying to breathe underwater. She looked around wildly as panic surged through her, and knew that she had woken because she was seconds away from losing all consciousness. It was far too familiar a feeling for her liking; she had felt this helpless a couple of times before, when the cancer was at its worst.

Frank was the first one to reach her, immediately looking at the monitors, and Robby followed in a few seconds later looking serious. “Dr. Langdon, let’s switch to BiPap. Charlie, I need to listen again. Charlie? Can you hear me?”

She could hear him, of course she could, but her brain was not cooperating. “She’s desatting,” Langdon called out. “Fever’s increased slightly. Has the lab sent back the results from the cultures? She could be developing pneumonia.”

Perlah had appeared next to Charlie, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “I’ll call and check,” she replied evenly.

Robby had his stethoscope on Charlie’s chest, face tightening. “Princess, there’s a lot of fluid, can you get some suction going and make sure the airway’s clear, please?”

“Suctioning,” she repeated obediently. Princess tilted Charlie’s chin back and removed the oxygen mask to get the suction in between her lips. It helped more than Charlie thought it would, removing a few millimeters of mucus that had been narrowing her throat.

“The cultures are back; it’s already full-blown bacterial pneumonia,” Perlah said.

Robby stilled. “Shit. Okay, switch to Ceftriaxone. Charlie, we’re going to get the BiPap on, and if that doesn’t work, we’re going to have to intubate. Do you understand?” Charlie just stared drowsily. She understood intubate but not much else. “Does she have an emergency contact?” Robby asked quietly. “This could go downhill fast.”

Perlah nodded. “We checked earlier…she put down your name.”

He exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair, then reached over to grab Charlie’s hand. “Charlie, I really need you to focus on me. Is it okay to intubate you if needed? Nod if it’s okay.” Her head was spinning still, but his tight grasp was grounding her. She nodded, and he sighed in relief. “Thank you, kid. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

Her breaths still felt wet, and she felt like she had to cough, but the muscles in her chest were locked in spasm. Charlie huffed, trying to get phlegm up out of her lungs, and Princess started the suction again. Robby grimaced. “Charlie, I’m putting the BiPap mask on now; it’s going to feel tight but we need it to stay put.” He gently lifted her head to get the straps into place, and Charlie’s tired neck muscles protested, but the air flowing into her lungs felt marvelous.

She was pretty sure the relief showed on her face, or at least on the pulse oximeter, because Dr. Robby finally smiled. “I do believe we’ve got you stabilized, Charlie. Perlah, can you check sats every fifteen minutes for the next hour? They should be trending up by then, and if they’re not, we’ll need to consider intubating.”

Charlie closed her eyes to sleep again as Perlah shooed everyone out of the room, then tucked the blanket in around her. The only sound was the measured whir of the BiPap, and the muted noise of the ER. Dr. Robby must have stayed to make some notes in her chart, because after a few moments, she heard Perlah clear her throat and ask quietly, “Dr. Robby…do you know why you are her emergency contact?”

“I met her when she was going through the breast cancer treatments.” Robby said sadly. “She never came in with anyone, and I got the impression that she didn’t really have anyone in her corner. I stayed in touch with her through her treatment and nursing school and put in a word for her here…but I never realized…I didn’t know that she…” His voice choked up.

Charlie kept her eyes closed, too embarrassed to say anything. She had never meant for Robby to feel like he had to take care of her…he just felt like the right logistical choice when she filled out the forms on her first day. Since then, the nurses had become her family, and she really should have switched it over to Dana or someone, to avoid putting Dr. Robby in this awkward position.

“Ill take care of her,” Robby finally said. “No worries.” He and Perlah eventually left, and Charlie let the buzz of a busy ER lull her to sleep.

Her rest only lasted another few hours, because sleep would always be hard to come by in the pit. Thankfully, waking up this time was a million times more pleasant. Her head felt heavy and she was still wheezing, but at least she was able to take a few breaths without coughing. The gurney held her semi-upright, so she could see into the pit, and it was less than a minute before Dana noticed that she was awake and came in to check on her. “Hey kid. How are you feeling?”

And of course, now Charlie had to cough. She brought her hand up to try to remove the mask, but it remained stubbornly in place. Dana helped get the mask off and brought in the suction again, Charlie gratefully closing her mouth around it. “Can I have a little listen to your lungs?”

“Yeah,” Charlie whispered hoarsely.

“Oh, we’re talking again, are we?” Dana teased. “Glad to hear it.” She warmed up her stethoscope by pressing it against her arm for a minute, then held it against Charlie’s chest. “Do you think you can lean forward for me?”

“Dunno,” she said, coughing lightly again. Although her lungs felt like they were improving, her muscles were feeling more like limp noodles. She tried to lean forward, tightening her core, but only moved an inch off the gurney.

Dana smiled, holding Charlie’s shoulder in a firm grip while she listened to her breathing. “Still not great, kiddo.”

Charlie looked up at her dolefully. “I‘m sorry,” she rasped.

“Oh, Charlie, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re a patient today, and a VIP at that. Let me tell you, everyone in the department has been stoppin’ by for updates all day. Hell, night shift is even texting me to check in. You’ve got friends here, kid, and we like nothin’ better than takin’ care of you.” Dana looked at her watch and patted Charlie’s leg. “But Robby told me to come get him when you woke up again, so I’m gonna be right back, okay?”

Charlie made a small noise and grabbed for Dana’s arm, “Suction,” she suggested, pointing a wobbly hand towards the aspirator. Dana handed it over and Charlie gratefully clenched it, just in case. She shivered, and in the back of her mind she knew she still had a fever, just by the way her thoughts took an extra second to think. She choked on her next cough and was glad she had grabbed the aspirator, tasting iron in her phlegm again. It didn’t hurt anymore (they had probably given her some of the good pain meds), but there wasn’t all that much power behind the cough either—laying limp and letting her body convulse seemed to be most effective strategy.

Robby breezed in with a comforting smile. “Dana said you’re doing better. How are you feeling?” He put his glasses on to look at the readings Perlah had recorded in her chart.

Charlie’s limit was one-word answers, so it took a second to decide what most pressing concern was. “Cold.” After another beat, she also added, “Slow.”

“Your sats are finally going up, you’re hovering around 90%. Unfortunately, your fever’s up too. We’ve got you on antibiotics but they need time to work. We tried to get a pulmonary consult but they’re taking their dear sweet time. Nothing new about that, right?” Charlie gave what she hoped was an amenable grin. “So I’m your consult for right now. I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but I’m going to need to listen to your lungs again.”

Charlie strained to lean forward again, and Robby’s strong hands supported her. He listened for longer than he had before, having her breathe and cough, and tapping on her back. When he was done, he helped her lay back down, then pulled up a chair to sit next to her. “It sounds better, but there’s still a lot of fluid. I can hear the buildup on the left side, which makes sense given the scarring. You picked up a nice case of bacterial pneumonia, probably because you weren’t able to fully clear your lungs.” He sighed tiredly. “Is there anyone we can call for you?”

Charlie looked away, trying to figure out how she would explain the semi-pathetic lack of family and friends at her bedside.  She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to keep tears from falling. Robby grabbed her hand, “I’m happy to be your emergency contact. And just so you know, everyone in the department has walked past at least once to peer in here. This whole place would volunteer to be your emergency contact in a heartbeat.”

Dana stuck her head in the door again, “Robby, you’re needed for a trauma.”

He was on his feet in a second, but still took a moment to squeeze Charlie’s hand. “See if you can sleep some more. God knows the pit’ll wake you up soon enough. Dana, can you suction again and get the BiPap back on her?”

“Of course,” she said, already snapping on gloves. “Anything else you need before I put the mask back on, babe?”

Charlie had been holding back her tears in front of Robby, but her general emotional instability and Dana’s kind voice brought down her walls. She let out a soft sob, and Dana instantly lowered one of the gurney rails so she could get closer and wrap Charlie in a tight hug. “We’re gonna get you through this, kid. You’re not alone, not anymore.” They sat like that for a moment until Charlie tried to swallow, and ended up in a coughing fit. Dana wiped the tears away and suctioned the mucus, and Charlie gave her one more smile before the BiPap mask was strapped to her face again. “Let yourself rest now. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Unexpectedly, Charlie slept for almost 12 hours. She woke up in a dark, quiet room, no longer in the pit. So this is how the other side lives, she thought to herself. This is what happens when our boarders finally get sent upstairs. Her lungs felt tight, and her mouth was dry from the BiPap still strapped to her face, but her head was clearer. She noticed the hospital gown was soaked in sweat, giving her goosebumps, and assumed that it meant her fever had broken.

She huffed out a weak cough, struggling to clear some phlegm. Immediately there was a practiced pair of hands expertly loosening the mask and suctioning the gunk out of her throat. Charlie looked over expecting to see Dana or Perlah holding the aspirator, but was surprised to see Robby was sitting in the shadows at her bedside. “Hey, kid. You with me?”

Charlie nodded and reached up to tug at the mask, and Robby pulled it all the way off for her. “Do you think you can talk?”

“Yeah,” she said hoarsely.

“Well, that’s a good start. How are you feeling?”

“Uh…Thirsty. A little…out of it.”

Robby poured a cup of water and held it to Charlie’s lips. “It’s just after 3 AM Tuesday morning. Your fever broke about an hour ago, it’s down to 100 degrees. Your lungs are sounding better but I, uh, I’ve been sitting here for a while just suctioning to help you breathe sometimes.”

“Oh…thanks.” She swallowed hard. Her voice was still raspy, but the water helped. “You…stayed?”

Robby shrugged, “We got you up here not too long after we switched you to BiPap. I finished off the shift downstairs, but when it was over I came to check on you and just…stayed. Dana was going to stay too but her daughter had a dance recital or something. I think she bribed a night nurse for updates.”

“She’s really…” Charlie trailed off.

“Yeah, she is,” Robby smiled. “She fights for her people. Always has, always will.” He let the conversation stall, watching Charlie carefully. She reached for the water, and took a very shaky sip, and Robby caught the cup before it spilled. “It’s good that you’re staying awake. The last few times you’ve opened your eyes, coughed, and fell right back to sleep.”

Charlie looked at him sideways. He looked tired. To be fair, he had said it was 3 AM. If she hadn’t put his name down on her forms, he could have been home hours ago. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

“No, I…I’m sorry I put your name down.” She stared at the ceiling, wishing she hadn’t just admitted that. She didn’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, she truly was just…apologetic. “I’ll be fine.”

Robby flipped the lamp on so the room was bathed in a warm glow. “If you want me to leave, I will, but please hear me when I say this…I am glad that you put my name down, and I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be tonight.”

“You’re not tired?”

“Well, let’s just say I got used to not sleeping a long time ago.”

Charlie didn’t know how to respond to that. The man was even more of an enigma now, having stayed hours by her bedside, than he was before when he was just another doctor.

She shivered again, her hospital gown still damp with sweat.  Robby’s expert eyes noticed, and he grabbed a blanket off the chair he had been sitting in, draping it over her. “Do you want me to get a nurse that can, uh, get you a fresh gown?”

“Uh, not right now…I’m gonna…” A cough overtook her, and Robby wordlessly helped her lean forward, holding a basin for her to spit the gunk into.

“How’s the pain?” 

She leaned back and took a couple of slow breaths. “No pain. Just aching. Uh…little nauseous.”

“Are you dizzy or light-headed?”

“A little… ‘m okay.”

“No reason to suck it up. If you’re uncomfortable, let us help.” He was up on his feet, staring at the monitor intently. “We can get you some Zofran.”

Charlie huffed out a breath, try to clear her throat. “Yeah, that’d be good.” She yawned.

“You feel like going back to sleep?”

“Uh…yeah. And…the gown…now.”

Robby was eager to help. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll go grab a nurse and put in the order for the Zofran. I’ll be right back.” He must have had some sway in the department because less than a minute later a nurse had come in with the medication and a new gown for her, Robby waiting respectfully outside in the hallway. “All good?” he called in.

“Good,” Charlie replied, only a little out of breath. “Can we not…BiPap?”

Robby considered for a moment, “You can start with the oxygen mask, but the second your sats start dropping, we’re going to have to go back to the BiPap. Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed.

“Charlie, before you go to sleep again…I just wanted to say that we…I…care about you. You are a special person, and a great nurse, and I’m honored to be your friend. I know that I’m not the best at showing it, or explaining it. I was…I was really scared earlier, when your sats were bottoming out, because I thought we might not get you back. The thought of you…sick…because I hadn’t been there for you was just…unacceptable.”

Charlie felt her eyes closing, but with her last ounce of energy, she reached out and tried to grab one of his hands. He smiled thinly and caught her hand in both of his, holding tight. “You’re through the worst of it now, Charlie. Go to sleep again, and I’ll be here when you wake up to get you through the rest.”

Author's Note: <3 I think I’m going to end it here…there’s only so many times I can write the word “cough” without screaming. I'm thinking of writing a longer-form story about Robby and Langdon, maybe as doctors in the army? I've been watching MASH in between waiting for new Pitt episodes. What do you think?