Dreamspring52
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The first Zhenya heard about it was an email from Sidney in the middle of August.
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Bookmarked by Dreamspring52
19 Jun 2026
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Darnell nodded, glancing over Robby like he was trying to place him in the hierarchy of important to ignorable and it could go either way. "What's this?"
"MSF FNG," Jack shot back. Whatever that meant, he sounded amused.
Darnell scoffed and looked to Robby, expression going decidedly unimpressed. "Oh, yeah? You here to find yourself? Have an adventure? Do something hard?" he asked, each question more mocking than the last.
And there was that question again, like it was haunting Robby. He stifled his instinct to bite back and kept it simple: "I'm here to help."
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Bookmarked by Dreamspring52
09 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Above the standard of the published work I’ve read in the past. Absolutely incredible.
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"Congrats again on the award; you deserve it." And with that, she disappeared into the crowd.
Probably off to go plan how to hit on Jack. Jack, who this random doctor wanted to have sex with. Here. At the conference.
Intellectually, Robby knew that was what people did at these things. Drunken hookups at conferences were common, though often denied, if not regretted. Robby had never partaken because that was not his speed, but Jack—
Well, Jack had no such qualms. And at an ED medical conference, he was basically a rockstar. He could probably have anyone he wanted.
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Bookmarked by Dreamspring52
08 Mar 2026
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Jack looked from the intern picture to Robby again, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. "Jesus, this is like a recipe." He gestured between the picture and Robby, young and old. "It's like twink plus seasoning equals daddy. Fuck," he said, a kind of helpless note to it. Then he walked out, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on Robby's head.
What did that mean?
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Bookmarked by Dreamspring52
07 Mar 2026
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Jack had just stepped back onto the main floor when he clocked movement at the ambulance entrance, two guys hurrying in, the smaller one helping a guy with a sweatshirt covered in blood. But something was wrong, some unnamable instinct rising within Jack at the way they moved. It was too fluid, too controlled. Jack knew what the walking wounded looked like, had seen it for years, from war zones to bar fights. This wasn't the injured seeking help; this was men hunting.
Time slowed, Jack's heart rate spiking, the adrenaline dump casting everything in sharp relief—the full ED floor, patients plus shift change meaning twice the usual personnel were here.
Robby was here.
That thought got him moving, Jack approaching laterally. He got there right as the guns came out.
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Bookmarked by Dreamspring52
06 Mar 2026