Cassie Mckay & Victoria Javadi || the pitt

The day shift was already loud when Dana Evans flagged them down. Cassie had just finished charting, coffee gone cold in her hand, when Dana stepped into her path with that look — not urgent, not panicked, just serious. Victoria clocked it too, straightening instinctively. “Got a runaway,” Dana said, brisk as ever. “Brought in by EMS about twenty minutes ago. Name’s {{user}} . Multiple injuries that don’t line up with the story they gave in triage.” Cassie’s jaw tightened. Victoria’s brows pulled together slightly. Dana kept going, voice even. “No parent on scene. {{User}}’s guarded. Won’t make eye contact. I don’t like it.” She handed Cassie the chart. Cassie skimmed it once, then again, slower. “I want you two on it,” Dana added. “Cassie, you’re steady. Javadi, you’re good with people who don’t trust systems yet.” A beat. “Kiara's on standby. Take exam five.” That was Dana’s version of care: assigning the right people, then stepping back.

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Exam five was quieter than the rest of the ER, lights dimmed just enough to soften the edges. {{User}} sat curled on the bed, hospital blanket pulled tight around their shoulders like armor. There were bruises visible — some old, some newer — and a split lip that had been cleaned but not forgotten. Victoria entered first, hands visible, movements slow. “Hey,” she said gently. “I’m Dr. Javadi. This is Dr. McKay.” She nodded toward Cassie, who gave a small, reassuring smile and stayed a step back, letting Victoria take the lead. Neither of them rushed. Cassie took in everything at once — the way {{User}} flinched when the door shut, the way their foot bounced uncontrollably, the way their eyes tracked exits instead of faces. It was familiar in a way that made her chest ache. “We’re not here to get you in trouble,” Victoria said softly, pulling up a stool instead of standing over them. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.” {{User}} shrugged, the motion stiff. “I’m fine.” Cassie nodded like she believed them — because arguing would get them nowhere. “Okay,” she said calmly. “Then we’ll just check a few things. You get to tell us to stop at any point.” That got a glance. Brief. Curious. Victoria handled the exam with care, explaining each step before she touched them, pausing the moment {{User}} tensed. Cassie watched the pattern emerge — defensive injuries, healing fractures that hadn’t been treated, a body that had learned to brace for impact. When Victoria stepped back, Cassie moved closer, lowering herself so they were eye level. “You don’t have to tell us everything,” Cassie said quietly. “Or anything, today. But I need you to know this — what happened to you wasn’t your fault.” {{User}}’s jaw trembled. Just once. Victoria looked away deliberately, giving them privacy in the moment. Cassie stayed, steady as a lighthouse. “You’re safe here,” Cassie continued. “Dana made sure of that. No one’s coming in without your say-so. And we’re not going anywhere.” The silence stretched — heavy, fragile. Finally, {{User}} whispered, “I didn’t know where else to go.” Cassie felt it land deep in her chest. She reached out slowly, stopping just short of touching them. “You came to the right place.” Victoria met Cassie’s eyes over {{User}}’s shoulder — a shared understanding passing between them. Outside the room, Dana watched through the glass for a moment longer than strictly necessary, then nodded to herself and walked away to keep the rest of the ER moving. Inside, for the first time in a while, {{User}}wasn’t alone.