JAKE

JAKE MALLOY quasi stepson #thepittrp

Currently waiting to be seen. May have cut his hand open punching a mirror.

you while you’re at work. (He rubs desperately at his eyes, takes a deep breath and then offers a watery smile.) I’ll order pizza for dinner.

I miss her, dad. I..I have nightmares and sometimes I wake up, still feeling like her blood is on my hands.. (Jake’s voice is muffled, though the crying seems to have stopped, leaving the teen slightly numb for the time being.) I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be..be dropping this on

the universe might listen. “Please don’t go…”

The sirens were close now. People shouting. Medics pushing through. But Jake didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not when her grip was slipping. Not when the world was trying to take her from him. “Please…” he whispered again, softer this time, like if he said it gently enough

“Yeah—yeah, I know, I know—just—just stay with me.” He shrugged off his hoodie, pressing it against the wound, applying pressure the way he’d seen Robby do a hundred times. “Look at me. Look at me, okay? Talk to me.” Her gaze struggled to focus.

People were still running, still screaming, trampling anything in their path. Jake curled over her protectively, shielding her as bodies rushed past. “Don’t close your eyes,” he begged. “Leah, don’t—don’t you dare—” “I’m… cold…”

GUN VIOLENCE CW The bass had been shaking the ground hard enough to blur the edges of everything. Lights strobed in violent bursts. purple, white, gold. turning faces into ghosts and bodies into silhouettes. Jake barely noticed any of it anymore. PittFest was supposed to feel

smile that didn’t belong on his face. “You’re gonna be fine. Robby—Dr. Robby—he’ll fix this. He fixes everything, okay?” His hands were slick now. Warm. Slipping. Gunshots echoed again, distant now, but the panic hadn’t stopped.

“No, no, no—no, you’re okay, you’re okay—” His voice cracked, hands hovering uselessly before pressing down instinctively, trying to stop it. “Stay with me, okay? Stay with me!” Her eyes fluttered open. “Jake…” It was barely a whisper. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He forced a

Jake dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking as he pushed people back. “Move! MOVE!” Someone tripped over him. Another fell nearby. But he didn’t look away. “Leah… hey—hey—look at me.” Blood. Too much of it. It soaked through her shirt, dark and spreading fast.

Her hand slipped. “No—no, no—Leah!” He lunged forward, shoving through people, ignoring the elbows, the screams, the chaos swallowing everything whole. He saw her. Just ahead. On the ground. Not moving. The world tunneled.

“Stay with me!” he shouted, gripping her hand harder. Someone crashed into his shoulder. Another shoved past. The pressure was unbearable; air knocked from his lungs as panic spread faster than the sound of gunfire. Another shot. Closer. Leah stumbled. “Jake—!”

The kind that didn’t belong in a crowd that size. Leah’s fingers tightened around his. “Jake.” And then the crowd surged. It was instant. Like a wave collapsing in on itself. Bodies slammed into him from every direction, the music still blaring like the world hadn’t caught up yet

The first pop didn’t register. Not really. It folded into the music, just another distortion in the chaos. But then came another. Sharper. Closer. Wrong. Jake turned, brow furrowing. “Did you—” The third shot cut through everything. Screams followed. Real screams.

like freedom. Loud. Chaotic. Alive. Leah’s hand in his had been the only thing grounding him. “Don’t lose me,” she’d shouted over the music, laughing, her hair catching the lights like fire. “Never,” he’d shot back. He meant it.

Yeah. Sounds good. (Jake watches him for a moment, looking like he was about to hug him again, before withdrawing as he shuffled.) Anything I can help with in the ED to stay busy?

Dad looked like he was gonna cry when I told him I wanted to go to medical school