Chapter Text
The ER intake desk directs Roman to a family waiting room on the third floor and explains that he will receive a text when Gerri has been assigned to a room. While he waits, he starts to go through the barrage of text messages he had received in the last few hours. Logan’s were just as irate as Karolina had prepared him to expect, and when he gets to the fifth “fuck,” Roman decides there isn’t any point in reading the rest of them. He doesn’t respond.
All of Shiv’s texts are basically bawling him out for not getting back to their dad; probably because she was dealing with the fallout. He ignores her, too. Karolina appeared to have kept the circle tight for flow of information, because the only other member of the executive floor he heard from was Frank. He sincerely seemed to be concerned about Gerri, which Roman grudgingly thinks is kind of nice. He really doesn’t fucking like Frank, but even Roman can admit that he does have something resembling a conscience. He’s worked with Gerri for thirty years, after all. But so has his dad.
But fuck him. Seriously, fuck his dad all the way to hell for his bruised ego, moaning about how Roman is “keeping vital information” from him. Like Roman’s had any time since midnight to think about anything but how his heart needed Gerri’s heart to keep on beating. But anything Logan had that resembled a heart died a long time ago. If there was ever one there to begin with.
Apparently Logan had been pissed off enough to call Connor , but Connor being Connor really just wanted to know if Roman was alright and if Gerri was alright. He had always envied his oldest brother’s ability to tune out the worst of their dad’s noise; and Roman had no idea how he did it. More than likely, it had something to do with the fact that Connor had lived a decent chunk of his childhood out of Logan’s direct orbit. And Connor didn’t talk about it much, or not with Roman at least. He was sweet and well-meaning as a brother most of the time, even if he was also bumbling and selectively delusional.
Roman knows he’s an asshole to Connor more than he should be, though. Probably more than usual lately, too. Especially since Connor was one of the only decent people around when he was growing up. Their dad never had the time nor the interest to do much of anything with them if it didn’t involve a photo opp or some other kind of publicity. But Connor would do things like take him and Kendall fly-fishing in Montana or hiking in the Appalachian Mountains or to check out the Carlsbad Caverns. The kinds of things that dads would normally do with their sons.
Jesus, between being put through the interview where he had to lie to come up with a “good memory” of his dad and facing Gerri’s mortality, Roman figures he’s filled his introspective quota for at least the next six months. He should probably call his therapist; he’s canceled his last three appointments.
He texts Connor the Cliff’s Notes version of the night’s events; he doesn’t expect a response anytime soon since it’s almost 3:00am.
After he’s finished triaging his text messages, Roman fucks around on Reddit and Twitter for awhile. Logs into his alt accounts on both to troll some homophobes. No one knows he does this. Well, ok his therapist knows. He was actually the one who suggested it. Roman had told him to fuck off at first. But it’s actually kind of cathartic?
He wonders what Gerri would think about it. She’s definitely the only person he would ever tell. And he wants to tell her lots of things. He wants to tell her everything.
Roman loses track of time going down a few rabbit holes on both platforms, and finally around 4:00 he receives a text letting him know that Gerri has been admitted to 5 South. He asks at the desk for directions, and he has to go down a few different hallways and corridors to find the set of elevators that will take him to that ward.
Just like Dr. Patacki had promised, the charge nurse in 5 South is expecting him. She seems about as no-nonsense as the nurse in the ER had, but she is cordial about his presence, at least. She locates Gerri’s tech and has him take Roman to her room.
It’s only been like an hour, but even with weary eyes and all her makeup long gone, Gerri rocking a hospital gown is still the most beautiful thing Roman has ever seen. It’s not quite the room that Lennox Hill had bestowed to Logan, but it’s nice enough and Gerri’s propped up lying on her side and smiling at him tiredly.
“Hi,” he says, suddenly feeling a little shy.
“Hi,” she answers, and seems a little shy herself. This actually helps Roman’s confidence a little bit.
He sits down in the chair next to the bed, which is one of the nicer ones that reclines. He supposes this is where he’ll be sleeping. If he sleeps at all, but Roman can’t say that he minds in the slightest. He takes her left hand in both his and kisses it.
“So how was it?” he asks.
“I imagine something like how a car feels when it’s at the mechanic,” Gerri answers, and Roman chuckles.
“That good, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“Have they taken your blood pressure lately?”
“Yes, when I got to the floor. 139/85, which is close to what it was when I got to the hospital. So not my highest number tonight, but not my lowest.”
“Are they going to give you anything for that?”
“They started me on something. It starts with a P, I think. And they gave me Ativan. I asked for Valium, but apparently Ativan is less likely to have a negative interaction if they have to give me something else.”
Roman gives her a soft smile. “Feeling restless?”
“Yes. And nervous. But somehow, simultaneously exhausted. What I really wanted was a sleeping pill, but they said it might be necessary to wake me up to do vitals. That they won’t unless they need to, but that it was safer for me to be easy to wake up.”
“Makes sense,” Roman says, though he really doesn’t have much of any idea about any of it. “Do you usually take sleeping pills?”
“Sometimes I take Ambien. But usually only on the weekends, because they knock me out cold.” Roman nods. “Do you?”
“Yeah, once in a while. To be honest, I don’t sleep much. Even when I take them. But sometimes if I don’t have to be up, I’ll get high off my ass and take one and then sleep for like fourteen hours.”
“Why does it not surprise me that you have trouble sleeping?”
“Probably because I can never settle down for longer than ten or fifteen minutes at a time?”
Gerri smirks. “True.” She looks at him curiously. “Are you staying?”
“I want to,” Roman replies. He realizes he didn’t actually ask her if that’s what she wants. Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed. “Dr. Patacki fixed it so I can. Do you want me to?”
“Very much,” she answers softly.
“I’m all yours then.”
“Roman, I…” Gerri hesitates. She looks like she might cry again, and she lifts up her palm up to Roman’s cheek. Strokes it with her thumb. He leans into her touch and closes his eyes, runs his fingers up and down her arm. “... I’m just really glad you’re here.” She seems like she wants to say more, but she can’t quite find the words.
“Me too.” He kisses Gerri’s palm.
“You’re sure you wouldn’t rather go home?”
“You will have to have security physically remove me from this room if you want me to leave.” And Roman isn’t quite sure how, but her eyes darken a shade; oceans where there is usually ice.
“Come here.” It’s not a request, and there’s no mistaking her demeanor.
“Listen, I promised Dr. Patacki that we would keep things PG. And as much as I would absolutely get NC-17 with you in this bed right now under any other circumstances, I a) don’t want to get kicked out of the hospital, and b) you need your rest.”
“I know,” she mumbles. But Gerri is clearly frustrated, and Roman can’t wait to unpack that. And hopefully sooner rather than later. “I promise I’ll stick to PG if you come lie down with me.”
Roman considers it. “You think we’ll get in trouble?”
“I’m not hooked up to any wires right now,” she shrugs. “The worst they can do is ask you to move, I think, as long as we’re just sleeping. Or resting.”
“That’s true,” Roman reasons. “You mind if I take my shirt off?”
“Shirts off shit, huh?” Gerri teases.
“Oh Christ. Of course you remember that,” he laughs. Starts undoing his buttons.
“It would be kind of hard to forget. In thirty years, that’s the only time I’ve ever seen someone do that in a professional setting.”
“Well, I am wearing an undershirt today, as you can plainly see.”
“Mm. Pity.” Gerri bites her bottom lip while she scoots over in bed to make room for him. Roman feels his pants tighten.
“Geraldine, are you flirting with me?” Roman asks as he walks across the room to turn off the light.
“How is it that I don’t hate my given name when you say it like that? I always hate it.”
“Guess I’m special or something,” he murmurs, finally sliding in next to her and wrapping his arms around her. Pulls her in as close as he can.
“Or something.” Gerri runs her nails up and down Roman’s bare arm, and he shudders.
“Not to kill the mood. Though, as you can probably tell now, the mood might need a little killing…” Roman shifts a tad to make his point, and Gerri giggles deep in her throat. His dick is about as hard as it’s ever been, and as close as they are, he knows she can feel it. “But are we going to… talk about any of this? At any point?”
She sighs. “I suppose we need to. But maybe not right now?”
“No, I didn’t mean like. Right now . But…” he hedges. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, because I fucking understand how much pressure you’re under. With all this and with Waystar bullshit.”
“I know you do.” She brushes her nose against his, and Roman feels like he might just curl up and die. No one has ever been tender with him like this, and he can feel just how fast he would get addicted to it.
“I was just hoping that you wouldn’t wake up in the morning and decide that we need to go back to being. You know. ‘Professional.’”
“Oh, baby.” Gerri takes his face in her hands. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. And I don’t want to.” She kisses him so gently. “I could have done without the road to getting here being a medical emergency in the middle of a corporate crisis, but I’m glad that we got here.”
“You think maybe the universe gave us a push?” Roman muses. He starts running his fingers through her hair and she smiles contentedly.
“Do you believe in all that?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about it, but maybe? You make me feel like I got fucking… struck by lightning, but I’m still walking around. Does that make any sense?”
Gerri looks at Roman like he just read her mind. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice laden with emotion. “This is PG right?” she asks before kissing him again, and it’s so slow and sensual, he feels like he’s going to explode in his pants from only this. Roman tries so hard to reel himself in, but before he knows it he’s running his tongue along Gerri’s top lip, then she’s sliding her tongue against his and moaning into his mouth.
“I think PG means no tongue,” he manages to get out.
“Roman, shut up,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him right up against her. And Roman just lets her devour him, their hands starting to roam, because he can’t bring himself to do anything else. He’s wanted her for too long. He’s dreamed about being with Gerri like this for months.
They make out like teenagers for an indeterminable amount of time until some kind of alarm goes off in a nearby room, and they nearly jump apart.
“Jesus,” Gerri mumbles.
“Damn. Saved by the bell, I think.”
“ Noooo ,” Gerri whines, and she doesn’t quite sound like herself.
“Ger, you sound tired.” He kisses her forehead.
“I am. But I want you.”
“Are you pouting ?”
“No.”
“Yes you are.” Roman studies her face, her eyes, and… oh yeah. Her pupils are dilated. He remembers the Ativan.
“Your meds are kicking in, baby. Time for sleep I think.”
“Fine,” she sighs, and turns to face the window away from him. At first Roman thinks she’s actually mad at him, but then she reaches back to pull his arm around her. “Like this ok?”
“Of course.” He kisses her behind her ear. “God, you smell good.”
“After all this? I doubt it,” she murmurs.
“You always do.” He pulls the blankets around them more snuggly.
“What do I smell like?”
Roman can tell she’s already falling asleep, he whispers, “You smell like Gerri. Like love.”
She doesn’t say anything else, and Roman hopes she can get some real sleep. He’s not sure if he will, but he does know he’ll happily lay awake for hours holding Gerri.
****************************************************************************************
Gerri blurrily remembers someone checking her vitals around dawn, but she doesn’t wake up for real until the sun is high in the sky and someone is saying her name. She opens her eyes, and a doctor she’s never seen before is standing next to her bed.
“Ms. Kellman?” says a petite blonde woman who looks to be in her 40’s.
She doesn’t look angry exactly, but maybe perplexed? Then Gerri’s brain starts to come into focus; she realizes that Roman is still wrapped around her like an octopus, dead to the world.
“Yeah,” she tries, and clears her froggy throat. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you, too. I’m Dr. Reynolds. Were you able to get some sleep?”
“I was. I know it can’t have been very many hours, but I feel rested.”
“Glad to hear it. I have the results of your EKG and your head CT here, can we discuss them?”
“Sure. Just let me…” she rubs her hand along Roman’s arm and turns in his arms to face him. “Rome, honey? The doctor’s here. Can you wake up?” He stirs a little and hugs Gerri closer. It melts her heart.
“Roman,” she finally repeats, shaking him a little when he doesn’t begin to rouse any further.
“What?” he finally says, startling awake. “Yeah, ok. I’m up.” Gerri watches his eyes come into focus, and he smiles the dopiest smile she’s ever seen at her. Kisses her nose. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she replies, a little embarrassed because they have an audience. “Roman, the doctor’s here.”
“Oh. Hey there.”
“She has my test results,” Gerri explains.
“Oh. Great. Let’s hear ‘em.” He sits up a little more, so she does too, but makes no effort to disentangle himself from her.
“Great. So, as anticipated, your head CT was completely normal,” Dr. Reynolds explains.
“Oh, good,” Gerri sighs.
“I’m still glad Dr. Patacki ordered it, though. You can never be too careful when it comes to head injuries.”
Roman nods. “Definitely.” He squeezes Gerri. “What about her EKG?”
“It was normal,” Dr. Reynods relays kindly. “There was nothing to suggest that you’ve had any kind of a cardiac event.”
“Really?” Gerri is so incredibly relieved. She was almost positive by this point that it had been a panic attack, and she’s so glad she was right. Roman kisses her cheek, and Gerri can tell that he’s fighting tears.
“So she’s ok? She’s really ok?”
“She is.” The doctor confirms. “You do appear to have high blood pressure, though. Not dangerously high; you seem to be resting in Hypertension stage 1. But due to the high stress of your job, your age, and your family history of heart disease, we’re going to go ahead and keep you on the medication you’ve started. What appears to have happened is that the acute stress of the day yesterday caused the panic attack, but your high blood pressure was already an issue and was aggravated for the same reasons.”
“That does make sense,” Gerri reasons. “What was my blood pressure during the night? I can sort of remember them taking it.”
“130/80, which is the best number we’ve gotten. And since you started meds and got some sleep, it’s continued to go down, so that’s a very good sign.”
“When can I go home?”
“I’ll have them come take your vitals again in a few minutes, and as long as there hasn’t been any significant change, I’ll go ahead and discharge you as soon as possible.”
“Wonderful,” Gerri says. “Does that mean I’m cleared to go back to work?”
Roman turns to her so slowly it’s almost comical, and he looks at her like she’s grown a second head.
“Gerri. You’re not going into the office today.” He checks his watch. “It’s almost 11:00, and it’s Friday. What would even be the point?”
“But if I’m medically cleared…”
“Ms. Kellman,” Dr. Reynolds interrupts, and sits down in the chair next to the bed. “Dr. Patacki called me this morning to give me some background on your situation. I understand that you’re the CEO of Waystar-Royco?”
“I am,” Gerri confirms, straightening her back out of habit.
“And it sounds like it’s been quite the stressful work environment lately.”
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Roman mumbles, and Gerri elbows him.
“My point being, it’s important that you take it easy as much as possible for the next few days. Emails and conferencing at home would be alright starting tomorrow. And stick to 8 or 9 hour days for another week after that. The medication is going to help, but it will take several weeks to know exactly how effective it will be.”
“Doctor, I do understand what you’re saying,” Gerri’s starting to feel boxed in, and she’s pretty sure she’s coming across as exasperated, but she can’t be bothered to care. “But we’re in the middle of a hostile takeover and an FBI investigation. I’ve already been out of action for almost 12 hours, and that isn’t sustainable…”
“Ger, she isn’t saying you have to be out of action for the whole week. Take the rest of today off, work from home this weekend, within reason I’m assuming,” Roman looks at her pointedly. “And stick to a regular working stiff’s hours next week.” He turns to Dr. Reynolds. “Is that the general idea?”
“That’s exactly it,” the doctor confirms.
“Logan isn’t going to like it,” Gerri mutters, dropping her forehead to rest in the palm of her hand.
“I don’t know how I can possibly make this any more clear to you, but fuck my dad. He may still be chairman of the board, but it’s not going to play well for him with the other board members and directors in the current climate if he comes down hard on you for needing a slightly abbreviated schedule for a week.”
Gerri turns this over in her head for a moment. “You have a point.”
“Of course I do. He won’t like it, but if I drive all this home, he’ll shut his mouth. Sandy and Stewy would slaughter him in the press for bullying his ridiculously competent, well-respected female CEO for daring to be human like the rest of us. He can’t afford that right now, and he knows it.”
Gerri looks at Roman, and she really looks at him. This isn’t the same boy masquerading as a businessman who showed up in October. Or, at least that’s how he came across at first. There was always more there, but the Roman who sits holding her close now has blossomed. He’s savvy, he’s shrewd, and he’s using his prowess to look out for her well-being. It’s just as touching as it is sexy.
“You’re right,” she mumbles, bumping against him to emphasize her point.
“Wait, what was that? I think I must have misheard you. Would you mind repeating yourself?” Roman snarks. Gerri gives him a withering glance, and he just lets his head roll back.
“Ugh, hot.”
“Roman. Enough .” Later, she thinks to herself. As a matter of fact… Gerri does have questions along that particular line of thinking. But she isn’t quite sure how to ask without really asking .
“Um. Dr. Reynolds, if I would want to say, get some exercise… would I have any kind of limitations?” Roman takes her meaning immediately of course and smiles at her slyly, but Gerri lets him know with only her eyes that he better keep his mouth zipped if he has any hope of her unzipping his pants later.
Dr. Reynolds is blessedly intuitive, and answers, “Light exercise would be alright. Nothing very strenuous, obviously… you should probably avoid any cardio until you follow up with your own doctor. A good rule of thumb might be that it should be nothing more strenuous than going up a flight of stairs.”
“Stairs?” Gerri inquires.
“Did you know, for example, that being able to comfortably go up a flight of stairs is how we advise people about the safety of having sex after cardiac incidents?”
Roman’s eyes widen, and Gerri has to try hard not to laugh. “Really,” she comments. “That’s very interesting information.”
“So doc, what you’re saying is… it’s ok for Gerri to go up a flight of stairs?” he asks hopefully.
The doctor smirks. “I would say so. As long as her blood pressure is holding steady or going down and none of her symptoms return. I would keep it to pretty basic staircases, though.”
“So no winding ones or M.C. Escher. Got it.”
Gerri can’t help herself; she bursts out laughing. Apparently Dr. Reynolds can’t help herself either, because she’s chuckling, too. Gerri needs this. She needs Roman’s humor and his support and his body, and she’s tired of denying herself.
Almost as if on cue, the tech arrives to take Gerri’s vitals. Roman and Gerri both watch the numbers on the machine with baited breath.
“129/77,” the tech reads out, even though all of them can see it for themselves.
In tandem, Roman and Gerri breathe out sighs of relief, and Dr. Reynolds tries but fails to entirely stifle a giggle.
“Well, it looks like you’re going home, Ms. Kellman,” the doctor says. “I’ll get started on your discharge orders right now, and then you should be able to leave within a few hours. Oh, and I know hospital food isn’t the best, but they should be bringing lunch trays around soon. Be sure to eat something to tide you over until you get home.”
“I will. Thank you so much, for everything, Doctor. Really,” Gerri says, and she genuinely means it.
“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Kellman. And Mr. Roy, be sure that you eat, too. Caregivers often forget themselves when they’re worried about their loved ones. Would you like me to have the desk call down to dining for a tray for you?”
“Noooooo, that won’t be necessary,” Roman assures her, looking a bit pale to Gerri’s mind at the thought of hospital food. He’s quickly looking around to the neglected breakfast tray sitting over by the door. “I see an apple over there, I can eat that. I’m good.”
“Alright then. Someone will let you know when you’re cleared to leave.”
“Thank you, Dr. Reynolds,” Roman gets up and moves to shake her hand. “Do you have a card, by any chance?”
She seems surprised but still reaches into the pocket of coat to pull one out. “Here you are. And you’re very welcome, Mr. Roy. Have a relaxing weekend now, you two,” she smiles as she leaves the room, and the tech follows her out. Roman walks over to the food tray and picks up the apple. He takes a bite as he walks to get back into bed to sit with Gerri.
“Shit, I should have asked you if you wanted this first.”
“It’s ok. Is there anything else edible over there?”
“Most of it started out hot, so not really,” he answers sheepishly.
“Well, can I have a few bites of the apple?”
“Even though I already bit out of it?” he asks uncomfortably.
“Roman. My tongue was literally down your throat last night,” Gerri deadpans.
He shrugs. “That’s true,” he reasons. Holds the apple up to Gerri’s mouth like an offering, and she takes a bite. “I’m a little bit weird about sharing food. Actually just like… food in general.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have noticed that,” she says gently.
He seems embarrassed. “Do you think everybody does?” he asks, and Gerri is surprised at his candor.
“No,” she states with certainty. She hesitates, “Are you, you know. Ok?”
He laughs. “I can’t believe you’re actually asking me that. I mean, no . I don’t think anyone would describe me as ‘ok’ at any given moment.”
“Roman.”
“What?”
“I don’t expect you to debrief me on all of it or anything. I just hope you know that you can talk to me. I hope you talk to someone, at any rate,” she says, and snatches the apple from Roman to take another bite herself.
“I have a therapist.”
“Good. I’m glad,” Gerri soothes, running a hand up and down Roman’s back. Looks at him hungrily in a way that doesn’t have anything to do with food. Roman smiles at her devilishly and puts his hand on her thigh.
“So. Stairs, huh?”
Gerri chuckles. “Did you or did you not want to know?”
“Oh I definitely wanted to know. And I’m all about finding some stairs to climb with you. As soon as possible. But probably not here.”
“My apartment has stairs,” Gerri says as nonchalantly as she can. She puts down the apple and leans closer to Roman.
“Does it?” he asks before he brushes his lips against hers.
“Mhm,” Gerri hums between kisses. “Several flights of them.”
They keep it up for another minute, but then Roman pulls away.
“I have to warn you. I can’t be held responsible for any spontaneous ejaculation that may occur if we keep this up. I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny in my entire life, but I’ve definitely never been horny for this long without doing something about it.”
“Well, the bathroom’s over there,” Gerri taunts, a gleam in her eye. “You want to touch yourself while I stand outside and tell you what a pathetic piece of shit you are?” She kisses him again, as filthy as she can even though she knows she’s torturing him. But this is part of what makes it all so intoxicating.
“I do,” he murmurs darkly before he bites her lip. “But I’m not going to come until I’ve made you come. I’ve got at least two up on you.”
“No you don’t,” Gerri challenges. “I did it afterwards. The first time with my vibrator and the second time with my fingers.”
“Jesus fuck, Gerri. You’re killing me.” Roman rests his forehead against hers. “Doesn’t count though. I didn’t get to hear you. I need to hear you.”
“Ok,” she rasps, trying to take a few deep breaths to cool herself off. “Then let’s get ready to get out of here so that we can get working on that as soon as they discharge me. I need clothes.”
“The ones you wore yesterday must have been brought up here. Or do you want fresh ones?”
“I want fresh ones. And a shower.”
“Totally reasonable.”
“Do you need to go home before you come over?” Gerri asks. Shit, this is getting real.
“No. I’ll just have Brett go and pack me a bag.” He’s already on his phone. “Do you want me to text your assistant to bring you some clothes?”
Gerri winces. “No. I trust Kayla, but I’ve never been comfortable with someone else going through my personal things like that.” She thinks for a moment. “But I do have a few changes of clothes in a bag in a cabinet in my office. Can you have those brought over?”
“Yeah, we can probably just have one of the drivers bring it.”
“Can we also get me another phone?”
Roman looks at his watch. “11:43. Let the record show that Gerri Kellman went for almost 12 hours without asking to check her email.”
“Fuck off, like you’ve ever gone that long without a phone,” she teases. “I didn’t even have a cell phone until I was almost forty.”
“I have gone that long without a phone, thank you very much. I left it at a bar in Singapore like ten years ago and it took almost a whole day for me to get a new one.”
“Oh, poor baby. How you’ve suffered.”
“Ugh, stop it Ger-Bear. Your bitchiness is going to make me permanently hard and then I’ll end up in the ER because I’ve had an erection that’s lasted more than four hours."
“You’re a moron,” Gerri mutters, but it’s fond. She finally starts to slowly get out of bed, and then she heads for the bathroom.
“I’ve already got Ratfucker Sam started on your phone, it’ll be here with your clothes. You’re welcome!” he calls after her.
“Roman,” Gerri says seriously, looking back at him, and he looks up from his screen. “Thank you. For everything. I mean it.”
He smiles. “Anything, anytime, anyplace, anywhere.” She smiles back.
She loves him. She knows that now.
Just as she’s closing the door, Roman shouts. “Be sure to stash that sexy gown in your stuff so we can do some roleplay. But this time I’ll be the patient, and you can be the hot nurse.”
And Gerri looks at herself in the mirror, and just laughs and laughs.
She can’t wait to play “doctor” with Roman.