jack’s going dizzy watching you pace backwards and forwards, from one side of the elevator to the other.

it’s been thirty minutes since the elevator stopped, with you in with him. you was heading back down to the er after taking a patient back up to the icu — staff shortages have been a problem for everyone. and on your way back down? the elevator halts to a stop. it’s not a secret that the hospital has been struggling with money and dealing with budget cuts.

but now the elevator was broken down with the two of you in it. jack doesn’t see you much — a third year resident. good but slow. robby calls you ‘too empathetic’, says you care too much about the patient. but jack knows you’re a good resident.

but you’re clearly not good at waiting.

the first five minutes you spend it pounding on the door, shouting for help. no help comes. the next five after that was to press the emergency button. no one answers.

jack gives up after fifteen minutes, leaning against the elevator wall and sliding down it to sit. he decides to wait it out. soon enough? somebody will notice that two emergency medicine doctors are gone, and they’ll come running to get them out as soon as they can.

the next fifteen minutes after sitting down has been spent watching you walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. you pace and mumble, hands flying through your hair and on your hips.

he hears you mumble something about: ‘stupid budget cuts’ and ‘oxygen will run out soon’ as you walk back and forth.

he sighs. “frankie. come sit.” you turn your head to say something, jack presumes an objection. but he holds up a hand. “you’re making me feel dizzy. come and sit down, we’ll be out soon enough.”