what im learning from my years of being one of the annoying woke black people on here is that a Lot of white and nonblack people really do not understand what racism is and what it has done to African Americans. like when we learn abt it in schools they dont really tell you abt the mass rape and genocide and torture of Africans by white slave owners, they dont talk abt the murder of babies and the cannibalism either. its all in The Past so we should just get over it, lol. and then when nonamerican's colonial past gets brought up they start throwing tantrums too, because antiblackness is a global thing, many countries have exploited Africa and its people. this isnt unique to one nation. its so funny how all these Smart Communists are so ignorant abt racism in america and globally, and then when black leftist/progressive tumblr users try to say anything abt their real actual Lived Experiences as Black people its met with dismissal and hatred and condescension and Um, Actually, im not from america, can you talk to me like im 5 about racism please :) and if youre anything but Nice they will call you a slur
summary: it the battle of the brains as the pittlings go to a trivia night with Mars. Soon after a "friendly" rivalry occurs between the 3 smarty pants; Javadi, Mars, and Ogilvie. May the smartest one win.
a/n: i love character exploration. it's so much fun! likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! muah muah muah.
tags: javadi centered, ogilvie mentioned, mars being a little sweetheart, nerd alert, fluff, it's sad in the middle, reader shows some tough love to mars, this is a little funny me thinks.
wc: 2.7k
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It was team building night for the day shift of The Pitt. Ever since Pittfest they would come together ever so often to bond. Robby found it nice to see his staff outside of the hospital enjoying themselves.
This time it was Trivia Night at a local brewery; Santos' pick. She made sure to emphasize that it was a family friendly affair to Robby. The reason? To bring his brainiac of a stepchild, so they could dominate the game. The theme of the night was Trivial Pursuit which was an assortment of questions the little genius could answer effortlessly.
"So you want to cheat?" Whitaker stares at Santos as she explains the plan. They sit in the reserved space for their party as they wait for the others to join them.
"It's not cheating if it's the kid's natural intellect." She shrugs, "I've be trying to be his friend all week for this to work. That gift card is as good as ours."
"And it's worth bullying people in trivia?" Whitaker still has a confused look on his face.
"Well, yes." She takes a sip of her beer, "They have good IPAs here."
"Okay, then what does he get out of it? He's a little kid."
"Those." She points to a pair of plushies; a sun and a moon. "Valued at $30 bucks each. They're perfect for his space themed room. His words not mine. He's also just excited to be here and play."
Soon a few more people arrive from the day shift gathering around the tables in the reserved area. Javadi tries to sit beside Santos but Santos stops her, "Oh sorry this seats taken."
"Taken? By who?" She looks around.
A second after Javadi, You and Mars arrive with Robby.
"Mars! Over here!" Santos smiles and beckons him over. You let go of his hand and let him run over to the table, "Saved a seat just for you, Kid."
"You excited?" Whitaker asks.
"Super excited." Mars grins.
You watch with a smile on your face and follow Robby to an empty table with Mars in view. Javadi nods, "I see. I'm not smart enough for the team."
"No offense but yeah." Santos shrugs, "No hard feelings but mama needs that gift card."
Javadi sighs and goes to find a seat somewhere else. She passes the nurses grouped up and then some and finds an open spot with Mel and Langdon. As she grabs the back of the seat, a larger hand grabs the other side. She looks up to see Ogilvie with beers in hand, "This is my seat, actually. I just got up to get drinks."
She lets go of the seat and acknowledges the apologetic looks from the others. She looks around the room and finds the only spot available is with Robby and you. She takes a breath and walks over, "Is this seat taken?" She asks.
"Not at all. Welcome to the team." Robby says, "We were just discussing our team name."
"I'm flexible." She shrugs. She hears the sound of laughter nearby and turns to see Mars giggling with Santos and Whitaker.
"How about small, medium and large?" You smirk. Javadi giggles.
"Are you calling me fat?" Robby frowns.
"No, it's our heights."
"Well then it's implied that I'm large ergo fat."
"No! I'm saying it's the tallest cup!"
"And the fattest." He huffs.
"He's just kidding." You slap his chest, "He's trying to make me look bad in front of you."
"What about the Pitt Crew?" Javadi suggests.
"Clever. I like that." Robby smiles.
"If you hated mine you could have just said that too, you know."
"Hate is a strong word. Disdain, however, is a stronger word."
"Shut up." You roll your eyes. The two of you laugh together. Javadi can't help but laugh too. In only the few minutes she's joined your table, she had forgotten she was dismissed by her friends earlier.
"Sorry if Mars took your spot on the other team. He's been getting excited to play all week." You say.
"Oh it's fine." Javadi waves it off, "I understand wanting to impress the older kids."
"That's right, you went to college young. How was it for you?" You lean forward.
"It was fine. I just studied mostly. Buried in books and doing the labs."
"Mars is interested in some college courses for summer. Maybe after the game you two could talk." You smile.
"I'd love to." She looks back over at Mars and her friends. She remembers a time when that was her. She would impress all the adults in her life with her prowess.
"Javadi? Do you want something to drink, Sweetie?" You ask.
"Oh," She blinks remembering her birthday had just passed and she could drink alcohol.
"I was going to get Mars a Shirley Temple from the bar." You say.
"I'll have one too."
"Good choice. Shirleys all around." You get up from the table.
"You're not drinking tonight, Robby?" Javadi asks.
"You're not either?" He shoots the question back, "Come on, I remember after I turned 21, I couldn't stay out of bars."
"I guess it's just not my element."
"And it doesn't have to be." He assures.
"Your girlfriend is really nice," She says.
"She can be," he chuckles, "You remind her a lot Mars and not just because you're smart."
She nods as she watches you serve Mars his drink. You kiss the top of his head and pick his cherry out to eat. She feels a small pang in her heart. She wishes her mother doted on her like you did with Mars. You still treated him like a kid. Him being smart was just a part of him and not who he was.
You return with your 3 Shirley Temples for the table. Robby notices that his cherry was missing and yours had two. "Hey!"
"Sh! The host is explaining the rules."
Your tables are given a buzzer each to press to answer questions. For the sake of the theme, there was a color coded wheel to spin for each question category: Geography was blue. Entertainment was pink. History was yellow. Art was purple. Science was green. Sports was orange.
It was 4 rounds of 60 questions and each answer is 100 points. Javadi feels the anxiety of the competition when she realizes not only was she against Mars but Ogilvie too. It was a battle of the brainiacs for sure.
Before the game starts the team names are approved by the host. He goes down the line listing them all. They get to the last three: Pitt Crew, you Javadi and Robby. Pitt of Doom, Ogilvie, Mel, and Langdon. Pittstop to Mars, Santos, Whitaker and of course, Mars.
The game begins with a spin of the wheel. It lands on Green: Science.
"What is the study of fungi called?"
Mars buzzes first, "Mycology!"
"100 points to Pittstop to Mars."
The next color is spun, purple: Art.
"Which Shakespearean character has the most lines?"
Ogilvie buzzes but Javadi is faster, "Hamlet."
"100 points to Pitt Crew."
You lean over to Robby, "This isn't going to turn into something, is it?"
Robby takes a deep breath, "God, I hope not."
Geography is the next category chosen, "What is the hottest recorded temperature on Earth?"
All three of the smartest buzz in at once but Ogilvie gets chosen, "134 degrees Fahrenheit or 56.7 degrees Celsius in Death Valley, California."
"Correct! 100 points for Pitt of Doom."
"I think I'm gonna go get us a beer." You whisper.
The night continues to be the most intense mental match you've ever witnessed. It was rare that someone that wasn't those 3 would answer at all. When the final round finishes the scores were:
1,800-Pitt of Doom
2,100-Pittstop to Mars
2,100- Pitt Crew
It was tied up between Javadi and Mars. Both of them were twitching like trigger happy cowboys waiting at the buzzer. This last question would determine the winner.
"Okay we've got a more difficult question here since we've got a couple smarty pants in the crowd." The host takes a breath. Everyone watches the two tables in anticipation. Your eyes are on Mars. You never knew Mars to lose in this kind of situation before and a little bit of you was worried to find out if he was a good loser or not. "What is the name of the largest volcano in our solar system, located on Mars?"
Javadi didn't know that answer. Mars definitely did, but so did you. You hit the button faster than Mars does, "Olympus Mons."
"That is… CORRECT! Congratulations Pitt Crew! Come collect your prize."
Javadi and Robby look at you in surprise before you stand up and beckon them to follow. You collect your prizes with a smile and walk back to your table. "I can't believe you did that." Javadi looks at you astonished.
"Perks of having a smart kid." You shrug. You then look to Mars and see him pouting. You sigh and go over to his table.
"Hey," You rub his back, "You okay?"
He doesn't say a word. He looks close to tears when he jumps up from the table and runs into the outdoor area.
"Mars!" You rush after him. The other members of the two teams follow after.
Mars runs and hides behind a bush. You stop a foot away as you hear him sniffling. "Go away!" He cries.
"Mars, I'm sorry but it is just a game, okay?" You try to console him. It was a valuable lesson you wanted him to learn about winning and losing.
"If you want, you can have the plushes." Javadi offers.
"I don't care about those." He snaps.
"Then what is it?" You kneel down.
"Is it because you wanted to impress Santos and Whitaker?" Javadi steps closer.
The boy shrinks into himself a little as admission. Your brows knit together when you look at Javadi. You ultimately step back letting her move closer to the boy.
"I know how tough it can be wanting to be liked." She says.
"You do?" He looks at her with watery eyes.
"I do," She nods, "I'm very smart like you are. I went to college at 13."
"Really?" His eyes change to amazement.
"Mhm, it was really hard for me to make friends because everyone was much older than me." She explains, "I wanted people to like me so much I did everything they asked me to. Made flash cards, presentations, study guides. I thought that's how I could make friends."
"Santos really wanted to win." He sniffles, "I thought if I helped, she'd be my friend."
Santos' heart sinks a little. She kneels down beside Javadi, "I'm sorry I made you think that, Buddy. It's a silly game that doesn't matter to me. I had a lot of fun playing with you. We are friends."
Mars smiles and turns to you, "I'm sorry I got upset."
"You are seven years old. You can be upset about silly things all the time." You open your arms, "Give me a hug."
He runs into your arms squeezing you tight. "Now give Javadi and Santos a hug too."
He hugs each of the girls and you all head back inside. The tables all combine for another hour of proper conversations and jokes. You gladly hand the gift card over to Santos and Whitaker knowing they needed it more than you do. Javadi splits the plushes with Mars giving him the sun.
The two continue to talk about college and what it was like for young Javadi.
Santos turns to you, "I just want to apologize again if it seemed like I was using your son for monetary gain."
You wave her off, "No hard feelings. He likes you guys down in the Pitt. He thinks you guys are cool. It was this or he was going to try to impress you with the telescope or a camping trip."
"Already worked for one of us." Robby chuckles.
The night draws to a close with everyone going home except your group and Javadi. She and Mars were still talking. "You guys just about ready to go?" You ask.
"Oh yeah, it's pretty late." Javadi says.
"Do you have a ride home?" You ask.
"I drove. All I had were the Shirleys with you guys, so I'm okay." She smiles, "I had a lot fun."
You all get up and head to the parking lot. "We did too. Right Mars?"
"Mhm," He grabs Robby's hand as you walk through the lot. You bid farewell to Javadi and head home. In the car, Mars speaks, "I had a lot of fun talking to Victoria."
"You did? How come?" You turn in the passenger seat to talk.
"She gave me advice for college."
"And…?"
"And she taught me that I shouldn't feel the need to perform to get others to like me."
"Good. I think that was an important lesson for you to learn." You say, "She's a smart girl, huh?"
He nods, "It makes me want to consider maybe taking labs for summer."
"Oh yeah?" You smile, "We'll have to see."
At home, Mars is tuckered out from all the brain power he used earlier and goes straight to bed with his sun stuffy by his side. You and Robby lay on your couch. You rest on Robby's chest scrolling through emails on your phone. Robby is reading a book while he rubs your back. He stops ever so often when he has to turn a page.
"Am I a pushover?" You ask.
"What? No," He snorts, "You're the most strong willed person I know. Where did that idea come from?"
"I was just thinking about what happened to Mars earlier. How he felt devastated after losing. I just wonder where he got the idea that he needs to do all that to be liked."
"I think it's a regular emotion to seek approval." Robby says.
"But he could be seeing me and how I am with Gloria? Or the other doctors? Or his dad?"
"Well, he also sees how you are with me."
"That's different."
"How so. Don't tell me." He huffs, "You secretly hate me?"
You laugh, "No. I could never hate you." You sit up and kiss him.
He hums against your lips and sets his book down. Then, he wraps his arms around you, "I think some lessons can't be taught by our parents or from a book. Sometimes lessons are learned by just experiencing the world."
"You'd know. You've already experienced a lot."
"Hey!"
"Remind me, what was the great depression like?"
"What I'm trying to say is," He refocuses, "He learns to be very brave from you. Facing his dad with the bite that you have, and talking back to me and all the other doctors— oh yeah, I learned I'm not the only one you fight— you instill so much confidence in him, it's almost dangerous."
"Almost." You scoff, "He ran away and lived in the hospital for two days."
"A resourceful two days." He says, "He knows his self-worth and that meant not tolerating the pain of living in that house. He just wanted to look cool for the older kids."
"You're right. I'm just overthinking."
"I think, you're thinking about it for a different reason." He rubs your cheek.
"I was thinking…" You take a breath, "I want to petition for full custody of Mars."
"Whoa." He blinks in surprise, "That's monumental."
"I know. I just got out of the hole from when they sued for custody the first time but I want to at least try. Even if I lose everything," You hide your face in his chest.
"Well, I am with you, 100%." He says, "I will support you through the process."
"Really?" You raise your head.
"He's happier here with you. He ran away because it's miserable. No amount of money or vacations they take him on will persuade the judge into believing they are good parents." He gives you an affirming kiss, "I am with you on this."
You kiss him again for comfort. "I love you." You whisper.
"I love you too." He kisses your forehead and picks up his books again. He goes back to rubbing your back until you fall asleep. Your anxiety of the future subsides as you dream of a simpler near distant future with Mars and Robby.
Content warning; friends named Sally and Nia, explicit sexual content, power imbalance, age gap mentioned, includes dialogue during sexual act that involves one character expressing reluctance and conflicted feelings about the relationship, everything is consensual 18+ MDNI
Summary; You didn’t expect to see Robby at the bar after work, and you didn’t expect him to take you home either
The Tap looked how it did every other Tuesday night, a few groups of people were clustered around high top tables, others hunched at the bar nursing pints. The floor was dirty, and the music was bad, but you didn’t care. You needed this. Twelve hours on your feet, vital checks every few hours, a discharge that took four times longer than it should have because the family kept arguing in the hallway and more wound dressings than you could count.
“I’m ordering a pitcher,” Sally announced, already flagging down a server. “It looks like you need it.”
“I need a sedative.”
“Same thing, but cheaper.”
Nia slid into the booth with three menus she didn't need. "Ok but before we talk about anything else, Sally, tell us what happened with the landlord."
"Oh my god, yes." Sally launched in, something about a leaking radiator and a passive-aggressive email chain, and you let it wash over you, laughing in the right places, grateful for a conversation that had absolutely nothing to do with triage or vitals or anyone's oxygen sats. You were mid-sip when your eyes drifted, unfocused, doing the thing they did when you were tired and letting a room blur past you, but your attention snagged on someone at the far end of the bar.
Robby.
Except it took a second longer than it should have to register, because he wasn't hunched over his drink the way you'd expect. He was already looking at you. Had been, maybe, for longer than a glance, you could tell by the way his expression hadn't rearranged itself yet, hadn't caught up to being seen. For half a second neither of you moved. It was such an unfamiliar thing, catching him off guard, the man who read a room, read a chart, read people, before they could finish a sentence. And here he was looking like you had walked in on something private.
Then he blinked and looked down at his glass like it had said something interesting, jaw doing that thing where he was pretending very hard to be unbothered. Too late. You'd already caught him.
“And then he had the nerve to say it wasn't his responsibility," Sally was saying.
"Sorry, one sec," you said, already sliding out of the booth. "I see someone."
Nia followed your line of sight. "Isn't that your boss?"
"Yeah."
"You're smiling."
"I'm not."
"She is so smiling."
You ignored her and crossed the room before you could think better of it. He noticed you coming, of course, watching you the whole way, though this time he didn't bother pretending otherwise.
"Didn't peg you for a regular," you said, sliding onto the stool beside him.
"I'm not." But said, already turning toward you, already making room, like he'd been saving the seat.
"You looked pretty lonely over here. Also, you were staring."
"I was not staring. I was looking at the door and you were in that general vicinity."
"Sure. Did that door happen to have my face and walk in twenty minutes ago?”
That got the laugh out of him. Short, caught off guard, like you'd startled it loose. "Guilty."
"So what's the occasion?" you asked, settling in properly now, angled toward him instead of the bar.
"No occasion. My apartment was just too quiet." He said it easy, like it wasn't a real answer, and you let it sit there instead of pushing.
"I'll drink to that." You waved the bartender over and ordered something, and somehow that turned into forty minutes, then an hour. He asked about your friends and you pointed them out across the room. "Nia, I met her in nursing school, and Sally, I've known her since we were twelve and used to shoplift lip gloss together" he laughed properly, head tilting back.
"Shoplifting? I did not see that coming."
"We were twelve and broke. What about you? Any friends from before you became the most tired man in Pittsburgh?"
"Ouch." But he was smiling. "A couple. We don't see each other enough. Everyone's busy being adults."
"Tragic."
"Devastating," he agreed, and clinked his glass against yours like you'd made a toast.
"Ok, but seriously," you said. "You. Out. On a Tuesday. Alone. It feels like a rare sighting. A whiskey and a general aura of do not approach." He smiled at you, looking you up and down, his grin widening.
"And yet." He tipped his head to you.
"And yet." You agreed, and something about the way he looked at you when he said it made your stomach do something embarrassing.
The conversation flowed naturally, and you caught yourself laughing more often than not. You reminded him of your first code, and how you had cried in the supply closet after, mortified, and how he'd been the one to find you.
"You remember that?" he asked, quieter now, some of the banter dropping out of his voice.
"I remember you patted me on the back and said, ‘it’s good to cry. It means you’re still human’ and then you walked off. You shouted at me five minutes later because I messed up a medication order.”
He laughed, "I probably wouldn’t earn any credit for competent bedside manner at 3 a.m."
"No, you wouldn’t”. He shook his head, but he was still smiling, and he didn't look away, and you didn't either, and the noise of the bar seemed to drop back a notch, like it was giving the two of you room. Around midnight, Nia and Sally started gathering their coats. Sally caught your eye across the bar, eyebrows up in silence, you good?
You gave her a small nod and she mouthed, call me tomorrow.
"You should go with them," Robby said, though he didn't sound like he meant it.
"I'm happy where I am."
He went quiet at that, turning his glass slowly on the bar top like it required his full attention. "You sure?"
"Robby. I’m sitting here because I want to be sitting here. I'm sure."
The bar started clearing out. Someone flipped the lights half up, the universal signal that the night was ending whether you'd decided to end it or not.
"I should get you a cab," he said, standing, shrugging his jacket back on. Working himself back into the shape of boss, the shape where none of this had happened. You stood too, close enough that he had to look down at you.
"Robby."
"Yeah?"
You could've let him. Could've let him put you in the cab, shown up tomorrow, let tonight be a nice story you never told anyone. Instead, "Don't put me in the cab alone. Come with me."
He went still, searching your face for a second, giving you every chance to take it back. You didn't.
"Ok," he said, low. "Ok.”
Outside, the air had that late-night chill that made you realize how warm your face was from the whiskey and the last hour of laughing. Robby didn't reach for his phone to call a car, he just stepped to the curb and put a hand up, and a cab peeled off from the line down the block like it had been waiting for him specifically. He opened the door before you got there, one hand resting on the frame, the other hovering near your back without quite touching, guiding you in without needing to. You slid across the seat and he came in after you, giving the driver an address that wasn't yours. You raised an eyebrow.
"My place," he said, like it was obvious. Something in his shoulders eased slightly, like he'd been braced for you to change your mind. The cab pulled off and the city went streaky and gold through the window, and for a minute neither of you said anything. His hand rested on the seat between you, close enough that the back of your fingers almost touched his.
"You've gone quiet," he said.
"So have you."
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
"Whether I'm supposed to regret this tomorrow."
"Are you?"
He looked over at you, unhurried, like the answer had been decided a while ago and he was only now getting around to saying it. "No." You didn't look away from him, until the cab pulled up outside his building, he didn't wait for you to reach for your bag. He was already handing the driver cash through the gap in the partition, not counting it out slowly, not making a thing of it, just efficient and certain, the same way he'd hailed the cab, the same way he ran a trauma bay. Like the decision of who was paying had been made before the question existed. He opened the door on his side and came around to yours before you could reach the handle. He held his hand out for you, not because you needed the help but because he wanted to offer it, and you took it, and his fingers closed around yours like it was the easiest thing in the world. You stood there a second on the sidewalk, his hand still around yours, neither of you in a hurry to let go.
"You going to invite me up," you asked, "or are we doing this on the curb?"
That finally got a real laugh out of him, the tension breaking just enough. "Come on," he said, and led you toward the door. His apartment was quieter than you expected, and tidier. Not sterile, just lived-in by someone who liked things where he'd left them. A lamp in the corner threw everything into low gold light instead of the harsh overheads you'd braced for.
"Sit anywhere," he said, shrugging his jacket off and draping it over a chair. "I'm not going to pretend I have anything impressive to offer you. Whiskey or water."
"Water, please."
While he was in the kitchen you wandered, the way you always did in someone else's space, cataloguing them through their things. A shelf of books, spines cracked from actual reading and not display, some medical, most not. A stack of records leaning against a turntable that looked older than you were.
"You're a vinyl person," you called. "Of course you are."
"Is that an insult?"
"It's a lot of personality for one shelf."
He came back in with two glasses and handed you one, following your gaze to the records. "My grandad’s, originally. I just never stopped." He almost smiled, setting his glass down, and for a second you were both just standing there in the lamp light, the easy noise of the bar gone, replaced by something quieter and more exposed.
"Come sit," he said, nodding toward the couch, and you did, close enough that your knee brushed his when he sat. You didn't say anything for a moment. The record he'd put on low crackled through a song neither of you were really listening to.
"This is a bad idea," he said, but he wasn't moving away. If anything he'd angled toward you, one arm along the back of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth off him.
"Probably," you agreed. You looked at him, really looked, the lamp light doing something unfair to the line of his jaw, the tired weight around his eyes that never quite left even when he was smiling. His hand came up to your face, just barely, thumb along your cheekbone, and he leaned in slow enough that you could've stopped it if you wanted to. You didn't want to.
The kiss was careful at first, almost testing, both of you a little disbelieving that this was actually happening after months of nothing but charts and hallway nods and careful professional distance. Then his hand slid back into your hair and it stopped being careful, and you turned into him properly, one hand fisting in his shirt, and he made a low sound against your mouth like something in him had finally stopped holding its breath. You pressed your body closer to his on your couch, your lips parting under his as the kiss deepened. His large hands gripping your waist, pulling you onto his lap while his tongue slid against yours in a slow, hungry rhythm. You could feel the hard line of his cock pressing up through his pants, and you grind down just enough to make him groan into your mouth.
Robby broke the kiss with a sharp inhale, his forehead resting against yours. "Fuck, we can't do this," he muttered, voice rough. His thumbs stroked your sides as he tried to ease you back. "I'm your boss. I'm twice your age."
You leaned in again, capturing his bottom lip between your teeth. He cursed under his breath but didn’t pull away when your hands slid up his chest and started unbuttoning his shirt. His fingers tightened on your hips, bunching your dress for a moment before he forced them to loosen.
"Tell me to stop," he said, though it came out weaker this time.
“I don’t want you to stop,” you pushed back just enough to catch his eye. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” His mouth found your neck, teeth scraping lightly over your pulse point. "You don't know what you're doing to me."
You shifted on his lap, the thick bulge in his pants pressed right against you. The friction made you both shudder. HIs hands moved to your ass, squeezing once
"If anyone found out,"
Instead of answering, you rolled your hips, grinding your soaked panties against his cock. He hissed, head tipping back against the couch cushions. You take the opportunity to kiss down his throat, licking at the salt on his skin while your fingers finished opening his shirt. His chest was broad and warm under your palms. Robby’s resolve cracked further when you sucked a mark just above his collarbone. His hands slid over your dress, rough palms cupping your breasts through your bra. He squeezed, thumbs circling your nipples until they stiffen. "God," he growled. "You’re making this impossible."
You reach between your bodies and palm his cock through his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch. Robby bucks up into your hand before he could stop himself. His fingers dig into your sides. You popped open his belt and tugged down his zipper. His cock sprung free, thick and flushed, the head already glistening. You wrapped your fingers around him and stroked once, slow and firm. Robby’s hips jerked. He grabbed your wrist, but instead of pulling you away he guided your hand, showing you the rhythm he liked.
"Just like that," he breathed against your lips as he kissed you again, deeper, messier. His free hand pulled up your dress, quickly ridding it from your body before unhooking your bra with ease. He lowered his mouth to your breast, sucking your nipple hard while his tongue flicked over your nipple. You moaned, grinding down harder.
Robby pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and conflicted. "I shouldn’t be touching you like this," he said as his hand slipped between your legs. Two thick fingers slid through your slick folds and pushed inside you without warning. You clenched around him and you cursed in unison. He pumped his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that spot that made your thighs shake. You stroked his cock faster in return, thumb swiping over the head to spread the precum. Robby’s breathing turned ragged before he added another finger, stretching you, his thumb now rubbing tight circles over your clit. His mouth found yours again, your hips rocked, riding his hand while your hand still worked over him. The wet sounds of you around his fingers mix with the slick that glides your fist over his shaft. Robby’s free hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you like he’s starving. His cock throbbed in your grip, and you could feel how close he was already. He didn’t stop you. He didn’t pull away. Instead he curlled his fingers harder inside you, fucking you with them while his thumb works your clit faster.
"Come for me," he ordered against your lips,"right now."
Your orgasm hit hard, clenching rhythmically around his fingers as you cried out into his mouth. Robby groaned, hips jerking as he spilled over your hand, hot cum pulsing across your fingers and onto his stomach. He kept kissing you through it, fingers still moving gently inside you until the aftershocks faded. You kept your body pressed tight to Robby’s on the couch, your hand still wrapped around his softening cock as it twitched in your grip. His chest heaved under you, shirt hanging open. His fingers were still slick from being inside you, and he dragged them out slowly, like he was trying to force himself to stop touching you but his arms stayed wrapped around you, holding you in his lap like he couldn’t quite let go yet. You leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, tasting the sweat on his skin.
"Is this what you’ve thought about?" you asked, voice soft but steady. "When you look at me at work? When you’re alone at night? How I’d feel under you? How I’d taste?" You grip his wrist, pulling his wet fingers to his mouth, making him taste you. His breath caught, his free hand slid down your back, rough palms gripping you.
"Fuck," he moans against his own fingers. “Yes.” He said the words like you had torn them out of him. "I’ve thought about it every day.” Robby’s head tipped back against the couch, but his hands didn't let you go.
"Then stop fighting it," you told him. He lifted his head to look at you, his hand combing your loose hairs out of your face. “Tell me you want this,” he almost begged, and you felt him harden beneath you again.
“I want this, I want all of it.” You told him, reaching between your bodies to push your panties aside. You lined him up, the head of his cock pressing right against your entrance. You sank down just enough for the head to push inside, stretching you open. Both of you gasped. Robby’s control snapped. His hands slam down on your ass, yanking you the rest of the way onto his cock in one rough thrust. You cried out as he filled you completely, thick and deep, the wet sound of you taking him filling the room.
"God," he growled against your neck, "you feel even better than I imagined." His mouth found yours again, tongue pushing deep as he pounded into you from below. You ride him hard, meeting every thrust, your hands braced on his shoulders.
“Robby,” you mumbled, your head swimming, “you feel so good Robby.”
He groaned louder, his rhythm turning frantic. One hand slipped between your bodies again, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles.
"Come," he orders, voice rough. "Let me feel you."
And you did. Your head fell back. The ceiling swam and your whole world narrowed to the space where his body met your. It crashed over you like a wave you didn’t see coming, and his name fell from your lips. He held you through it, steady and strong, murmuring soft words against you. He followed right after, hips jerking as he spilled deep inside you. He kept thrusting through it, fucking his release deeper until you were both shaking.
Later, the record had long since clicked off, spinning empty in its last groove. You lay tangled together under the throw blanket he kept folded over the arm of the couch, your head on his chest, his fingers idle in your hair.
"You're still awake," he murmured, not quite a question.
"I’m just thinking."
He shifted, propping himself up enough to look at you properly.
“I don’t regret it, any of it.” He told you, planting a kiss to your shoulder.
“Neither do it.” You say, unable to fight the smile on your lips.
"And I don't want tonight to be a thing we pretend didn't happen."
"Me either."
"Good." He kissed you once, unhurried, then he laid back down, pulling you closer to his chest. "Then we'll figure it out." You let your eyes close, his heartbeat steady under your palm.
Robby has never been a fan of birthdays. This year, loneliness drives him to download Tinder on an impulse, only to come across the last person he expected to find there: his favorite resident.
warning/tags: minors DNI, p0rn with little plot, masturbating, sexting, pet names (sweetheart and good girl) robby loves talking you through it, unprotected piv, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, body hair, fingering, creampie, handjob, kinda softdom!robby, age gap (I imagined reader being in her 20s or 30s but could be in her 40s too, tried to keep it broad)
For those of you who read it the first or second time I uploaded it: during the days the fic was down, I expanded some scenes, added a bit more dialogue, and made it a little kinkier along the way. You might want to read it again for some extra content
He knew this was stupid, plainly a terrible idea. On any other day, the thought wouldn’t have even crossed his mind, but today wasn’t any ordinary day. Today was his birthday. Fifty-five years old, and he had never felt more lost in his own life. Nothing had turned out the way he’d once imagined it would. If someone had told him, back when he was a resident, that he would still be coming home to an empty apartment at this age, no wife curled up on the couch waiting for him with a tired but loving smile, no chorus of small feet thundering toward the door, shoving drawings into his hands and saying “Look what I made for you today, daddy!” he would have laughed in their face and called it a cruel joke.
Yet here he was. No relationship had ever survived the weight of the hours and the way his mind stayed trapped in the ED long after he left it. He couldn’t be present anymore, not the way a partner deserved. The job had hollowed him out in ways he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
It had been almost a year since he ended things with Noelle, not long after he returned from his sabbatical. He’d told himself it was the right thing to do. Maybe it really was better this way. At this point in his life, trying again felt pointless, almost selfish. He was saving whatever good women were still out there from the inevitable complications of loving Michael Robinavitch.
But today the emptiness hit differently. The apartment felt quieter than usual, and his thoughts were louder, circling like a vulture. He knew it was the birthday doing this to him. Birthdays had a way of dragging the sorrows out into the light, every missed milestone, every abandoned version of the life he thought he’d have. Jack had tried to pull him out of it, offering a beer after shift, but Robby had politely declined. He wasn’t in the mood for forced cheer, for anyone raising a glass to another year of the same.
He’d made it clear to the whole department that he didn’t want any birthday cake, no cards, no presents, nothing. Still, the well-meaning murmurs had followed him all day: “Happy birthday, Dr. Robby,” each one met with a progressively wearier smile until the words blurred together. By the end of the shift, he was only managing quiet nods of acknowledgment, the kind that said thank you and please stop at the same time.
So here he was, in an apartment that was too big for himself, lying on a couch that felt even bigger, downloading Tinder on his phone. He rubbed a hand over his face, he’d tried Tinder once, maybe two years ago. Downloaded it, swiped for a week, then deleted it when the superficial nonsense started bothering him too much.
He started with the basics. Photos. Robby opened his gallery and scrolled slowly through the meager collection. Most of the images were work-related, grainy screenshots of charts, or blurry shots of trees and roads he’d taken during his bike rides. After a long hesitation, he picked a silly selfie he’d sent Jack a few weeks earlier. He was holding up the book the two of them had been texting about, half-smiling at the camera like he felt ridiculous even taking it. It wasn’t terrible, he supposed. He looked… friendly. Approachable, maybe.
Next, he chose one from the department barbecue he’d actually forced himself to attend last summer. He was wearing the sleeves rolled up on a button-down shirt, and holding a beer in his hand. He didn’t hate it, it showed a version of himself that still showed up for people, even when he didn’t feel like it. The last one was from the hospital fundraiser gala two years ago. He looked elegant in that photo in a black suit, but he had to crop Jack out of the frame, his face was still half-visible over his shoulder. Three photos, not exactly a compelling portfolio, but they were honest, he wasn’t pretending to be anyone other than himself.
He moved on to preferences. Gender: Women. Age range… His thumb froze. At first, he set it to 50–60. Women at the same stage he was, maybe divorced, maybe widowed, or just tired of feeling alone. But then something flickered in his chest, part curiosity and part desperation, and before he could talk himself out of it, he dragged the lower end down. Twenty to sixty. The wider net felt reckless, almost embarrassing. But what if the love of his life existed somewhere in that range? What if he missed her by something as stupid as a single year on a slider?
As if the love of your life was sitting on Tinder on a Sunday night, he thought. Don’t be fucking stupid, Robby.
He stared at the screen for a long moment, and with a quiet sigh that sounded too much like surrender, he tapped confirm. Now it was time for the bio. Robby stared at the blank field for a long minute. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn’t looking for anything specific. Company? Distraction? Someone who wouldn’t mind a man who came home at crazy hours, sometimes covered in blood and whocarried more baggage than he could carry?
He typed slowly what felt the most honest: “ER doctor in Pittsburgh. Love long bike rides to clear my head and 70s rock. Not entirely sure what I’m looking for here, but if you can handle sarcasm and odd hours, we might get along.”
He read it back. It sounded stiff, after all, he wasn’t used to this. But it was him, and so he hit save before he could overthink it more. The app prompted him to start swiping. Robby leaned back against the couch as the profiles began loading, smiling faces, pictures of holiday destinations, and bios full of lists of requirements. He swiped left on most without much thought.
Left. Left. Left. Some of the women seemed nice, but nothing pulled him in. He kept going until the endless scroll of faces started blurring together. No one stuck, just the same hollow feeling that had driven him to download the damn thing in the first place.
But then your profile appeared. Robby’s entire body froze. The photo loaded first: you, one of his own residents. You were standing in scrubs outside the Pitt with the same smirk you got after a particularly chaotic shift. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as the heat crawled up his neck. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling right now.
At work you were talented and dedicated, but still green enough that he rode you hard during shifts. And here you were on Tinder, of all places. The thought that you, or anyone else from the department, might stumble across his profile made his stomach twist with embarrassment. He could already imagine the gossip: Dr. Robby on Tinder. How pathetic.
He should swipe left immediately, delete his profile, and pretend this never happened. Instead, curiosity won. Robby tapped on your profile, telling himself it was just… professional concern. Making sure you weren’t doing anything stupid. He cared about his residents. Yeah, that was it.
Your bio loaded beneath the main photo: “If you like girls who will force you to watch her Letterboxd top four and then talk your ear off for hours about the hidden meaning behind her favorite songs, then I’m your girl. Emergency med resident with zero free time. Not looking for anything serious, just fun, meeting people, seeing where it goes.”
Robby let out a chuckle despite himself, the sound was unexpected in the quiet of the moment. He had only ever seen you in the chaos of the ED, running on adrenaline and too little sleep. But this version of you felt… different. He found himself thinking about how little he actually knew you. How little he’d allowed himself to know.
He didn’t know where you were from, or what your family was like, whether you had siblings who called too often or parents you tried to make proud. He didn’t know what you did outside of the hospital besides the occasional beer in the park, or what made you laugh until your sides hurt. All those small and ordinary pieces of a life that existed outside the emergency department.
It felt strangely intimate, seeing you like this. Like stumbling across a part of you he wasn’t supposed to have access to. A version of you that wasn’t filtered through the hierarchy of resident and attending. Up until now, you had been “his resident”, contained within the professional boundaries he’d carefully maintained.
He started swiping through your photos. The second picture was you laughing in what looked like a group hike, with your hair windblown and your eyes bright. You looked undeniably pretty. Objectively, he’d always known you were attractive. The kind of natural attractiveness that turned heads in the hospital corridors even when you were exhausted and covered in sweat. But once again, he’d never thought about it. You were a resident, he’d gone down that path before, and it’d ended badly. That made you off-limits, end of story.
The third photo was of you in a cozy sweater, curled up with a book and a mug of coffee. It was cute, almost sweet. The kind of image that made the loneliness in his chest ache. He kept swiping until the last photo hit him like a defibrillator. You were on a beach somewhere sunny and sandy, wearing a bikini. Your skin was glowing under the sun, and you were smiling at the camera in a confident pose, the kind of effortless beauty that could stop any man cold. Holy fuck, your body barely contained by the fabric of the bikini, the photo capturing the gentle swell and the way the light played across your body.
Robby’s mouth went dry, the heat flooded his face and then lower down his body. He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t let himself imagine you like this, outside the hospital, undeniably a woman and not just one of his residents. His pulse kicked up, the nervousness made his hands shake and his grip slippery. He fumbled the phone, trying to swipe left fast. Swipe left, damn it, he thought.
But he accidentally jerked his thumb the wrong way, to the right, and the screen lit up with that unmistakable animation.
It’s a Match!
On the other side of Pittsburgh, you had been lying in bed, still trying to unwind after another brutal twelve-hour shift. Sleep felt miles away, so you’d given in to the guilty habit of late-night Tinder scrolling. Sure, swiping at 1 a.m. probably looked desperate to anyone else, but who cared? It wasn’t like you had much of a life outside the hospital anyway.
You swiped left with efficiency. Guy whose entire bio was just a link to his podcast. Left. Gym mirror selfies and nothing else. Left. Self-proclaimed “entrepreneur in the crypto market” with a Lamborghini in the background that probably wasn’t even his. Left.
How was it this difficult to find someone even remotely decent? You weren’t expecting to meet the love of your life in this digital dumpster, but was it really too much to ask for a man with basic social skills and a profile that didn’t scream immediate red flags? Someone whose opening line wasn’t just “u dtf?”
Guy who still clearly lived with his mom. Another left. “No feminists” in the bio, followed by a rant about “high value woman.” Left.
Then your thumb froze mid-swipe. Michael Robinavitch. Your heart slammed against your ribs. There he was, Dr. Robby, looking straight into the camera in one of the photos, that familiar half-smile you’d seen a thousand times in the ED, only now it was on a dating app.
You sat up straighter in bed, suddenly wide awake. What the hell was Dr. Robby doing on Tinder? You’d scrolled through this app for weeks and never seen him before. He must have created the profile recently. The man you’d been quietly (and not-so-quietly) thirsting over since your very first day of residency was right here. One match away.
How could you not like Robby? He was everything you’d ever wanted in a man, strong, steady, impossibly smart, and so damn capable it made your legs weak every single time he gave you a calm and yet authoritative instruction in the middle of a trauma.
You’d lost count of how many times he’d gently reprimanded you for being distracted while charting. He always assumed you were just tired from the long hours. He had no idea that you kept getting lost in vivid daydreams about him: running your fingers through the silver-flecked hair and that coarse, greyish beard, feeling those big hands wrap around your waist, pulling you close.
You loved the way his eyes crinkled warmly behind his glasses when he smiled, the way his voice dropped into that gravelly register when he needed to command attention in the ED… it did things to you. Dangerous, addictive things. Sometimes getting in trouble with him felt more exciting than it had any right to.
His Tinder bio was unexpectedly adorable. He looked a little lost, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged on the app but was willing to put himself out there anyway. That bike is not the only thing I’d like to ride, you thought, as a little smile tugged at your lips.
His pictures made you melt and sigh at the same time. That warm, contagious smil, the glasses that struck the perfect balance between hot and endearingly sweet. The silver threading through his beard that made you press your thighs together at the mere thought of feeling it against your skin, between your legs, specifically.
You swiped slowly through the rest of his photos. Those wide shoulders, that tall and solid frame, that soft belly under the button-down shirt… you wanted him in a way you had never wanted anyone before.
It was almost pathetic the way your heart did a little skip every time he complimented your work on a tough case. The way your thighs squeezed together almost involuntarily whenever he stepped in close during a complicated procedure, guiding you step by step, his voice low and patient near your ear. “Yeah, grab the blade like that… make a two-inch incision, softly, very gently.” “Hold the tube with your left hand, tight, don’t move it.”
It made your mind wander to dangerous places. Was he like that in bed too? The kind of man who talked you through it, calm and devastatingly attentive? In your fantasies, he absolutely was. Late at night, alone in this very bed with nothing but your hand and your imagination, you could almost hear his voice murmuring against your skin: “Keep your legs open for me, nice and wide… just like that.” “Look at you… already making such a mess. I’m gonna start with one finger, okay? Think you can be good and take it for me?”
Should you swipe right? It felt like the only logical choice. If he swiped left, which seemed like the most likely outcome, he would never even know you’d swiped on him. But if he did swipe right… then maybe, just maybe, you could end up in Robby’s bed.
Your hopes stayed low. Never in a million years did you actually expect Robby to be attracted to you the way you were to him. You would’ve noticed something by now, maybe in lingering stares, subtle flirting, or any shift in the way he treated you. But he didn’t. He treated you exactly like the rest of the residents: a young doctor he needed to teach, who could sometimes be frustratingly distracted.
Still, you couldn’t contain the tiny, thrilled scream that escaped your lips when the screen lit up:
It’s a Match!
Robby had matched with you. He wanted you too.
“Shit!” Robby dropped the phone onto the couch like it had burned him. It bounced once and landed face-up, the match confirmation still glowing on the screen. He and you had just matched on Tinder. All thanks to that goddamn bikini photo and his clumsy, nervous fingers.
He stared at it, feeling his heart hammering harder than it had during the worst trauma cases. This was mortifying. You’d seen his profile, you’d swiped right, and now you were going to see that he’d swiped right as well. Part of him, the tired and lonely part that had downloaded the app and widened the age range, wondered what you’d think.
A dozen what-ifs tumbled through his mind. What if you saw his profile and laughed? That disbelieving laugh when something genuinely surprised you. What if you messaged him first? Maybe it had been a mistake on your end too. Maybe your phone had slipped, or you’d been swiping too fast after a long shift, half-asleep and a little buzzed. Or maybe… maybe you’d swiped right on purpose, just to tease him. He could already picture the text popping up on his phone: “Oh my god, Dr. Robby. What are you doing on Tinder? lol.”
Robby ran both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply. He picked the phone back up, looking straight at the Send message button. He shouldn’t. The responsible thing would be to delete the app, pretend this night never happened, and go back to being your attending, not your Tinder match.
Instead, he opened your profile again. Robby tried to move past it, he really did, but his eyes lingered on that last photo far longer than they should have. You in a bikini, your skin glowing under warm sunlight. He couldn’t believe that was what you looked like underneath the baggy scrubs you wore every day in the ED.
It felt wrong. Like he wasn’t allowed to see you like this, like he was intruding on something deeply private, crossing a line that should never even be approached between an attending and his resident. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but it wasn’t enough to make him look away.
His body reacted anyway, a sudden heat stirring unwanted, a throb of arousal he hadn’t felt this sharply in longer than he cared to admit. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, hating himself for it even as the reaction deepened. What the hell is wrong with you, Robby? he told himself, but the self-reproach did nothing to dull the pull. What could he do? You were a woman. A beautiful one, and for the first time, he was seeing you not just as his resident, but as someone undeniably, breathtakingly desirable.
Before he could delete his account and go to bed as he should, your message popped up.
You: hii :)
Robby’s breath hitched in his throat. For a split second, he swore his heart actually stopped. Then it slammed back into rhythm, pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears, in his temples, in the tightness of his chest. The little smiley face stared back at him from the screen, innocent and cheerful, as if it hadn’t just flipped his entire night upside down.
You had matched with him. At eleven at night. On his lonely fucking birthday. What the hell was he supposed to say to you at 11 pm. after accidentally matching with her on Tinder? “Hey, funny seeing you” here felt pathetic. “This is wildly inappropriate” felt like a lie because the rush of heat still lingering in his veins said otherwise.
He set the phone down on the coffee table for a moment, dragging a hand over his face for the millionth time. Part of him wanted to delete the match immediately, pretend it never happened, and go to bed like the responsible, professional attending he was supposed to be. But another part, the part that had been sitting alone on his fifty-fifth birthday, couldn’t bring itself to swipe left on this one unexpected connection. So he picked the phone back up and stared at the blinking cursor in the message box.
Another message came through a minute later.
You: robby? it’s me from work... guess you saw my profile too haha
Robby let out a long breath, he couldn’t avoid it now that you’d initiated a conversation with him. It was better to be direct, explain the mistake to you, and shut this down before it got any more awkward.
Robby: hey
yeah, I saw it
listen, this is embarrassing as hell, i was messing around with the app, dropped my phone and it must have swiped right by accident
sorry about that, didn’t mean to make things weird
He hit send and immediately regretted how cold it sounded, but it was the truth. The phone stayed quiet for a moment that stretched too long. He had his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for your reply so he could shut down this awkward conversation and delete this stupid app before he accidentally matched with anyone else from work.
You: oh. so it was a mistake? damn, i thought you had swiped right on purpose. bummer.
Robby’s eyes widened. You were being direct, not beating around the bush or deflecting by saying it had been a mistake on your end as well. He could practically hear your voice saying it with a teasing edge.
Robby: Sorry about the confusion
i know it might be awkward finding me on here. probably the last person you expected, i don’t usually do this.
You: honestly it was surprising. didn’t peg you as the tinder type at all.
but hey, we all have our moments i guess
Robby: i’m not the type
this is my second time ever downloading it and i already regret it, should probably delete the whole thing before i make an even bigger fool of myself.
You: yeah i get it. i thought the match was mutual so i figured i’d say hi. sorry for texting if it was just an accident. didn’t mean to make it weirder
Robby read your message twice. Thought the match was mutual. The words echoed in his brain. You had swiped right on purpose, not as a joke, not out of morbid curiosity about your boss’s sad dating life. You had chosen him willingly. The realization of what that meant sent a confusing rush through him. You liked him, that had to be it. The thought of you… having a crush on him made a warm feeling run through his body, one he immediately tried to shove down.
Robby: What do you mean you thought it was mutual?
You: idk... i saw the notification and figured you wanted to match with me since it happened. that’s why i said hi right away. didn’t want to leave it hanging if we were both curious
He stared at the screen, his heart beating a little harder. You were so honest and blunt about your feelings, he found himself almost intimidated by it. Some rational part of his brain was trying to tell him this had to be a big joke, there was no way in hell you could like him. You were… you. What would you see in a man like him?
Robby: you wanted us to match? seriously?
You: lol yeah i did swipe right, didn’t i? your profile was actually really nice. the book pic is cute and the 70s rock mention made me smile. plus... i don’t know, you’re interesting. figured why not. no pressure though
Robby: i thought maybe you did it out of curiosity
or just to see if I’d swiped on you didn’t expect you to actually want that
You: well i did. but if it was an accident on your end then no big deal. we can pretend this never happened and go back to normal tomorrow. i won’t mention it at work or anything. promise
Robby let his head fall back against the couch, closing his eyes for a long moment as he exhaled heavily. He knew exactly what the responsible Chief of Emergency Medicine should do right now: unmatch immediately, delete his profile, and pretend the entire night had been nothing more than a lonely fever dream.
But tonight… tonight he didn’t want to be responsible. He didn’t want to be Dr. Robinavitch, the attending who had sacrificed nearly every personal connection, every version of a fuller life, on the altar of the ED. For once, he wanted to be Michael. Just Michael. The man who had matched with you on Tinder. The man who was currently staring at his phone with his heart hammering like he was twenty years younger.
Before he could piece together a polite but firm way to end the conversation and retreat back into the safety of professional distance, another message appeared.
You: i think your profile’s part of the reason i swiped right. the book pic’s really nice
He smiled faintly at that, a rare genuine twitch at the corner of his mouth. Robby leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.
Robby: your profile’s pretty good too, better than most of the ones i’ve seen tonight
You: aww thanks. your’s so much better than the usual bullshit on here which is not that hard to be
but still finding you here is a nice change :)
Robby: you on this app a lot? seems like you’ve got the profile down
You: not really. i’ve been on a couple dates from here but it’s honestly exhausting. hard to find someone decent in this city. most guys are either looking for hookups with zero conversation or they’re boring as hell. you know how it is
Robby: fair enough.
your age range must be set pretty high if it pulled me up
fifty five isn’t exactly the usual crowd for you or is it?
You: haha yeah well
i like older men
Those four stupid words hit him square in the chest like a defibrillator. “I like older men.” Robby reread them slowly, feeling a dangerous warmth bloom low in his belly and spread outward through his chest. He was an older man, and apparently, that fit exactly into your preferences. Was that flirtation? Were you subtly implying that he was the kind of older man you liked? Or was it just a casual, throwaway comment, something you’d say to any guy on the app who happened to have a few gray hairs?
No. He was spiraling too deep, overthinking it the way he always did. Your words didn’t carry some hidden, special meaning meant just for him. They couldn’t. And yet… No matter how hard he tried to talk himself down, he couldn’t ignore the flicker of validation that lit up inside him. He felt desired, really desired. Not just by anyone, but by you: someone younger, and so strikingly pretty it almost hurt to look at your photos for too long. Someone who, in his mind, was clearly way out of his league.
Robby: It’s okay to have preferences
everyone does.
You: yeah exactly. i just find older guys more attractive than the ones my age. they’re usually more mature, know what they want, have actual life experience. it’s... hotter, i guess. plus the conversations are better
He swallowed hard, feeling his throat suddenly dry. He could practically see your face as you typed those words, maybe biting your lower lip in that teasing way you sometimes did right after nailing a difficult procedure.
Then the bikini photo from earlier flashed unbidden through his mind, and the heat in his body flared hotter. He pictured you exactly as you’d looked in that shot: sun-warmed skin, curves barely contained by the fabric. The thoughts he had no right to entertain came rushing in anyway, pulling him deeper. Thoughts of having you all to himself, of finally being able to run his hands slowly over every inch of that bare skin, tracing the line of your waist, sliding up your ribs, cupping the soft weight of your breasts. Of putting his mouth on you and every sensitive spot until you were trembling beneath him.
Robby: makes sense
i usually go for women closer to my stage of life
we have more in common that way
You: do age gaps bother you?
Robby: in what way?
You: like as a concept. are they a problem for you?
Robby: i’m okay with consenting adults doing what they want
as long as everyone’s on the same page it’s not my business.
You: have you ever been in an age gap relationship or anything like that?
Robby: i once dated a woman a bit younger than me
but usually around my age
He paused before sending the next part, he shouldn’t keep engaging in this deeply unprofessional conversation, but curiosity was getting the better of him. And you were simply so easy to talk to that he couldn’t stop himself from letting his walls down a little.
He typed before he could second-guess himself.
Robby: how much older are we talking anyway?
the men you usually like i mean.
Your reply came fast, like you’d been waiting with the phone in hand.
You: usually over fifty up until their sixties or so. around that range. but it’s just a preference, nothing crazy. i feel like older men usually treat you better. they’re more gentlemanly, know how to actually listen, and they tend to understand what a woman wants... in every way, if you know what i mean ;)
Robby read the message twice. Three times. Four. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck me. You weren’t just being polite or making casual conversation. That winky face, the implication hanging there about “every way”. You were deliberately flirting with him, there was no other way to see it. He shifted on the couch, suddenly very aware of his own body and the fact that it had been a long damn time since anyone had spoken to him like that.
He took a slow breath and replied, trying to keep some semblance of control.
Robby: do you date men closer to your own age too?
or is it mostly the older crowd?
You: i have tried guys closer to my age. some of them are sweet but a lot are still figuring their shit out. you should try dating a woman younger than you sometime though. maybe it’s exactly what you need.
Robby didn’t know what to say. The words hung there, full of possibilities around them. He was still wrestling with a response when another message from you popped up.
You: anyway sorry again for the confusion earlier. i’ll leave you alone so you can keep scrolling through profiles. i’ll go back to robbing the graves haha (joke, get it? because i like older guys... sorry that was sooo bad)
Robby chuckled despite the whirlwind in his head. The joke was cheesy, so perfectly you that it cut through some of the tension. But it also gave him an out, you were offering to back off and let this weird moment fade into nothing before tomorrow’s shift made everything awkward as hell. Part of him wanted to take the exit ramp, wish you a good night, unmatch, delete the app, and pretend none of this happened. But another part, the one that had been sitting alone on his birthday didn’t want the conversation to end.
He tapped over to your photos again, almost against his will. There it was the last one. You on the beach in that bikini, with the perfect swell of your tits catching the sunlight. Holy fuck. He wanted you, the realization hit him all of a sudden, making him switch back to the chat and move his thumbs almost on autopilot.
Robby: Nothing to apologize for
honestly you’ve kept me better company tonight than I expected
You: see? younger women can be good company too :) you shouldn’t close the door so fast. you could meet someone nice if you give it a chance
Robby: you shouldn’t close the door on guys your own age either
there are decent ones out there, you’ll find someone who can keep up with you
You: out of all the guys i’ve matched with here... you’re easily the best one. no contest
Robby: Really? that can’t be right
you’re selling yourself short.
You: no i mean it. you’re exactly the kind of man i’d usually go for. tall, older, smart... and hot
The word hot hit him harder than it had any right to. His face flushed deeper, his clothes felt constricting, his pants uncomfortably tight. Robby’s cock was already half-hard, thickening and pulsing insistently against the zipper of his jeans with every new message.
All because you’d called him hot. Just a little cheeky, playful comment, and it was enough to unravel him. The touch starvation wasn’t helping. It had been so damn long since anyone had looked at him with real interest, longer still since he’d felt this fluttering feeling low in his stomach. This rush of ego, this sharp need to be close to someone, to be wanted, to touch and be touched.
Robby: thanks i guess
you’ll meet someone worth your time, you’re a good girl
The message was sent before he could fully reconsider the wording. The second it went through, Robby winced. It sounded weirdly sexually charged, maybe it was because he was feeling sexually charged, painfully so. A Freudian slip at its finest.
You: good girl? 😏
Robby: shit i didn’t mean it to sound weird
just a figure of speech i suppose.
You: should i call you daddy then? ;)
Robby nearly dropped the phone again. The winky face, the bold suggestion, the way it played so perfectly into the tension that had been building sent a bolt of pure want through him. He could imagine your voice saying it, teasingly so, with that mischievous glint in your eyes. His mind supplied far too many vivid images: you in nothing but your skin looking up at him, you saying it in person with a flirty smile. He was fully hard. Actually hard, just from a fucking text conversation.
The professional alarm bells were clanging loudly in the back of his head. This was his resident, the age gap, the power dynamic, the fact that you’d have to face each other at the Pitt in a few short hours... it was all wrong. But god, it felt good. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.
He glanced down at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, his cock straining against the fabric like a flagpole. He couldn’t believe it. One flirty text from his resident and he was rock hard. Don’t get hard for your fucking resident, he thought. She’s one of your own. Off-limits. This is insane. He adjusted himself uncomfortably, trying to will it down through stubbornness, but the ache only sharpened.
You: too much? sorry i was just messing around lol
Robby exhaled and typed back, trying to sound more composed than he felt.
Robby: Don’t worry about it
i know it was a joke, no harm done
You: it was... unless you don’t want it to be a joke
He let out a surprised laugh, his cock twitched again at the follow-up, you were relentless, and something told him you were noewhere near done.
Robby: you’re funny, i’ll give you that.
You: that’s what i’ve been told. glad you’re having fun with me tonight
Robby: Well, I guess I should let you get some sleep
early shift tomorrow and all
You: i don’t mind staying up. i swiped right on you, remember? yk for a minute i really thought you were gonna flirt with me or maybe even ask me to come over to your place or something
The words hung there. You had been excited, you had hoped he would flirt. The image flashed through his mind, you showing up at his door in the middle of the night, stepping inside and… He shifted again, pressing his hand down against his insistent erection through his sweatpants, trying to get some relief even as guilt gnawed at him. This was crossing so many lines he’d promised himself he wouldn’t cross after Heather. But the loneliness that had driven him to download the app in the first place was quieter now, replaced by an electric tension.
Robby: that would be very inappropriate
i’m your boss and there are lines we can’t cross
You: but you’re not dr. robby my attending in here. you’re michael robinavitch, 55, the guy who loves 70s rock and long bike rides. and i’m not your resident in this chat. i’m just a girl who likes movies and older men... and who is really, really into you right now
You were separating the roles so cleanly, drawing a line between the hospital and this private space. It was tempting, dangerously tempting.
Robby: you know it doesn’t work like that
we can’t just turn it off when the shift starts tomorrow
You: nah i’m pretty sure i can
Robby: No.
You: If we really can’t meet then we can do it over text, you know.
He stared at the screen trying to guess if you really meant what you were saying.
Robby: what do you mean?
You: sexting, duh
He let out a short breath, Jesus fuck you were actually gonna kill him tonight.
Robby: that’s basically the same thing.
You: no it’s not. technically we’re not doing anything if it’s just messages. no one has to know.
Robby rubbed a hand over his jaw, his mind was screaming at him to shut this down, but his fingers were already moving. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering to do this.
This was a terrible idea. What difference did it really make whether it was real sex, his hands on you, feeling your heat around him, or just describing it in detail over text messages? A line was still a line. One he had promised himself he wouldn’t cross again. He didn’t want this to end with you giving up your residency, transferring to another hospital, another city, once things inevitably fell apart.
But fuck, his cock was achingly hard, straining against the front of his pants like a caged animal that desperately needed to be freed. The thought of you right now, maybe lying in your bed in, pressing your thighs together, that sweet slick already soaking through your panties because of him… it made it impossible to think straight. He couldn’t leave you like that, so wet, so needy, aching for him.
Robby: what do you want me to say?
You: i don’t know… just say something hot. you’re goot at being hot
He hesitated, he wasn’t sure of what to say. He was scared of seeming naive and old school to you, but he wasn’t used to this whole… sexting thing. The most spicy exchange over texts had been insinuating pictures before asking someone to come over. Okay think Robby, if you can save someone’s life under extreme preassure then you can sext with a woman, just say something typical, he thought
Robby: who’s been a naughty girl?
The second he hit send he regretted it. He winced, already typing another message to backtrack when your reply came through.
You: lmao that was the best you’ve got?
Robby groaned out loud, dropping his head back against the couch.
Robby: forget it. i’m going to bed
You: nooo wait. let’s try again :(
He should’ve put the phone down. He really should’ve. Instead he waited to see if you had anything else to say.
You: you’re so good at giving orders and guiding me at work. maybe you could do that now too? tell me what to do
You were right, in theory. He was good at instructing, guiding, teaching. It came naturally to him to step into that mentoring role, he had always been the one others looked to for direction.
Robby: i feel stupid doing this.
You: pleeeease. i’ve always thought you were the kind of guy who talks people through it in bed. it’s the same here, just write it instead of saying it. tell me how you want me to touch myself
Your words hit him hard. He reread the message twice. He had never consciously thought about it before, but yes… that did sound exactly like him. Fragments of memory surfaced unbidden: the commanding tone he’d used with past partners, the way he’d instructed them. “Open your legs for me.” “Turn around.” “Look at me.” He remembered the way their breathing would change, the way they’d tremble under the weight of his voice and his hands.
Robby: you really want me to talk you through it, sweetheart?
You: yessss that was so much better. keep going
If anyone had asked you how it happened, you honestly wouldn’t have been able to explain it. You weren’t even sure yourself. One moment you were typing a slightly embarrassed apology to Robby for matching with him and the next, the conversation had taken a turn and you were the one demanding he sext you so you could get off. It was bold, stupidly reckless, and yet it felt inevitable.
Robby: good girl that’s exactly what I wanted to hear, i want you to get those pretty legs spread nice and wide for me, can you do that?
You whimpered softly and obeyed him instantly, letting your knees fall farther apart on the mattress. The cool air hit your exposed pussy making you shiver.
You: yes. they’re open
Robby: Perfect
i’d be on my knees between them right now if I could
run your fingers up the inside of your thighs for me slowly, feel how soft they are
As you trailed your free hand up one thigh, you imagined his callused palms and the scratch of his greying beard following the same path.
You: doing it… feels so good thinking about your hands instead.
Robby: that’s my girl
now slide two fingers through your pussy and ell me how wet you are for me
You did exactly as he says, gasping as two fingers glided easily through your slick heat. You were soaked, embarrassingly so, the wet sounds filling the quiet bedroom as you stroked yourself.
You: So wet… i’m dripping. all because of you.
Robby: fuck i knew you would be
i want you to circle your clit for me now
Do it slowly and imagine it’s my tongue instead, licking you just the way you need
i’d take my time, taste every inch of you
Your mons got louder, tipping your head back against the pillows as your fingers obeyed, traxing circles around your clit that sent sparks up your spine. In your mind, it was Robby’s mouth devouring you while his strong hands pinned your thighs down.
Robby: how does that feel, sweetheart? tell me
You: so good, i’m so sensitive. keep talking please
Robby: Good
now slide one finger inside that tight pussy, nice and deep
curl it up just like I would, searching for that spot that makes your legs shake
i’d be watching your face the whole time, telling you how beautiful you look spread open for me, how good you are for listening
When you pushed a finger inside yourself, you curled it upward as instructed to hit that sensitive spot while your other hand kept working your clit in circles.
Robby: add another finger and stretch yourself open
i’d be so much thicker than your fingers, but we’ll start like this
imagine me pumping them in and out while i rub your clit
Adding a second finger, you continued fucking yourself to the rhythm of his words on the screen. It was not enough, it was nowhere near enough to calm the hunger and desperation that was threatening to consume your whole being. You knew nothing would be enough, only feeling him inside of you.
You: wish it was you inside me. can’t get off like this. i need you robby please
Robby: you were the one who told me to do this
You: i know i did. but it’s not enough
send me your address
He was tempted, so tempted that for one second his fingers almost started typing on an impulse. But the reality crashed back in immediately. The risks, the morning after, the way he’d have to look at you during rounds, knowing what you’d done. He was rock hard and aching for you, but the responsible part of him still refused to crumble completely.
Robby: what for?
you’re not seriously thinking about coming over right now, are you?
You: robby i’m literally only like 2 miles away from you. are you dtf? not as dr. robinavitch and his resident, but as two adults who casually matched on tinder tonight. there’s no title or hospital here. it’s just us.
Two miles. You were so close. He stared at your message, feeling his heart slamming against his ribs. His cock gave another insistent throb, the head already leaking a little against his underwear. The thought of you actually coming over, right now, in the middle of the night, made his mouth go dry.
Robby: Send me your address and I’ll order you a ride.
You sent your address a moment later. It really was only two miles away. He confirmed the ride, watching the estimated arrival time tick down. Fifteen minutes… only fifteen minutes until you’d be at his door.
You: this is exactly what i meant earlier about older guys. so much more gentlemanly. taking care of the details instead of just telling me to get there
You had no time to get ready, and honestly, you didn’t care. Makeup? Hair? None of that mattered when you were this desperate, this aching for him. You climbed out of bed still wearing the thin tank top and soft sleep shorts you’d worn to bed, and threw an oversized jacket over everything, one that swallowed most of your body and made you look far more put-together than you actually felt.
Your hands were shaking as you grabbed your keys and phone. The rideshare arrived sooner than you expected. The drive across the city felt both endless and far too short, but eventually the car pulled up outside his building.
You stood on the sidewalk for a second, staring up at the apartment complex, suddenly hit with the full weight of what you were doing, showing up at your attending’s door in the middle of the night, soaked and trembling with need, because a stupid Tinder match had spiraled completely out of control.
But you didn’t hesitate for long, you took a deep breath, pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, walked toward his door and knocked on it.
Robby opened it right away. He didn’t say a word, the second you were in reach, you had one of his strong hands cupping the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. It was electric to say the least. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that stole your breath. His beard was scraping deliciously against your skin as he moved his lips with experienced urgency. You melt into it instantly, fisting your hands in his shirt, tasting the pure, overwhelming taste of him. Finally. Here he was, kissing you like he’d been starving for it just as much as you had.
He kicked the door shut behind him without breaking the kiss, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his taller frame. You felt the warmth of his hands roaming everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, squeezing the curve of your ass through the fabric of your shorts. In your mouth, he groaned, making a vibrating sound that went through you as he explored every inch he could reach, like he was memorizing the feel of you.
Your breasts were the next to get his attention, he was cupping them with his big hands through your tank top, brushing his thumb over your already hard nipple, while he tangles his other hand in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
You pulled back just enough to gasp against his lips, “It took you long enough.”
Robby chuckled, the sound coming out breathless. “Took you long enough. You have any idea what it’s like waiting twenty minutes for you with a hard-on?” He pressed you closer, letting you feel the thick and insistent bulge against your stomach.
As if they had a mind of their own, his hands couldn’t stop moving, squeezing, caressing, claiming, running down your back, over your thighs, everywhere he’d fantasized about touching. Before you could respond, he bent slightly and lifted you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively.
The strength in his arms, the way his broad chest felt against you, sent a fresh rush of heat between your legs. He carried you through the house with purposeful strides. The door to your room swung open and he layed you gently on the bed, climbing on top of you immediately until his full weight pressing you deliciously into the mattress.
The kissing resumed instantly, slower now but no less intense. Robby’s mouth was moving from your lips to your neck, sucking lightly and scratching you with his beard in the most perfect way. Now his hands got bolder, continuing their exploration but this time sliding under your tank top, pressing his palms against your bare skin. He lifted the fabric higher, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room.
“Fuck,” Robby groaned, and maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you could see his soft brown eyes turning darker as he stared down at you. “Look at you. These tits… so perfect. So fucking pretty.” His voice was rough with want, the same commanding tone. He cupped them reverently, as if they were something precious, circling your nipples until they pebbled tighter under his touch. “They’re made for my hands. For my mouth.”
He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently at first, then harder, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak. The wet touch of his tongue made you arch into him with a moan, threading your fingers through his hair as he kept lavishing attention on your breasts.
From one side to the other, Robby switched sides, licking and sucking the other while his hand massaged the first, rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual sensation, the tingly heat of his mouth and the firm squeeze of his callused hand, had you writhing beneath him, making you so wet you were soaking through your shorts.
The humming of his mouth against your skin sends sparks straight to your core. “So responsive,” he murmured, switching back to the first breast and sucking it harder than before. “These tits are going to ruin me. I could spend hours right here.” Sliding his free hand down your side, Robby gripped your hip possessively, continuing with the worshipping of your chest, licking broad stripes, sucking marks into the soft flesh, massaging and kneading until he had you panting and grinding up against the hard line of his cock through his pants.
The age difference between you only heightened everything, his experience was showing in every skilled touch, in every perfect flick of his tongue. He was being patient but hungry, like he’d been holding back for far too long. You could feel how hard he was, he was making you feel it, pressing insistently against your thigh. The knowledge that you did this to him made you even wetter.
Robby lifts his head briefly to lock his eyes on yours. His lips were swollen and his beard slightly damp with his saliva. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, but his hands never stopped, squeezing and caressing, teasing your sensitive nipples with his thumbs as he waited for your answer.
You shook your head, pulling him back down. You’d rather die than stop right now. “Don’t stop. Please.”
His mouth trailed a hot path down your sternum, over your stomach, scraping you teasinglywith his beard against your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hands followed strong, sliding down your sides and gripping your hips as he settled between your spread thighs. The weight of him, the sheer size and presence of this man, made your core clench with anticipation.
“These shorts have been teasing me since you walked in,” he murmured with the same steady tone he used in the pitt, but now turned intimate and commanding. Robby hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly peeled them down your legs, taking his time as he revealed more of you. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart. Good girl.”
You obeyed instantly, lifting your hips so he could slide the fabric off completely, leaving you in just your thin panties and the tank top. Robby smoothed his hands up your thighs, spreading them wider with gentle but firm pressure. “Keep your legs open like that,” he instructed you. “Nice and wide for me. Don’t close them unless I tell you to.”
You were already moaning softly, and he wasn’t even touching your core yet. Robby dropped his eyes to the damp spot on your panties, making the fabric cling to your pussy lips, and he let out a groan of desire and hunger. He cupped you over the fabric with one hand, pressing his palm firmly against your heated pussy while his thumb found your clit through the material and began rubbing slow circles.
“Oh god,” you moaned, twitching up your hips into his touch, seeking more of the contact. The friction was simply perfect, it was teasing, and it kept building higher and higher. Robby’s callused thumb was applying just the right pressure on your swollen nub.
He watched your face intently through his hooded and lustful eyes as he worked you higher. “Feel good?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as his own breathing grew heavier. “You’re so wet already. Soaking through these panties for me. That’s it… rock against my hand, sweetheart. Show me how much you need this.”
Your moans only grew louder and more unrestrained, as he kept rubbing your clit with precision. The fabric added a delicious layer of friction, and every circle sent sparks shooting up your body. He got you gripping the sheets, your thighs already trembling as you fought the urge to close them around his hand.
Robby leaned down to kiss the inside of one thigh, scratching your skin deliciously. “You want my mouth? Want me to taste this pretty pussy? You gonna wrap these gorgeous legs around my neck while I do it?”
“Yes,” you gasped, nodding frantically. “Please, Robby. I need it.”
He hooked his fingers into your panties and tugged them down slowly, revealing your glistening, bare pussy to his hungry gaze. “Fuck… look at you. So wet and perfect.” He kissed along your inner thighs, taking his time, brushing his lips and beard against the sensitive skin as he worked his way closer. “Wrap them around me, sweetheart. Lock your ankles behind my head if you need to. I want to feel you holding me right where I belong.”
You did exactly as he said, wrapping your legs around his broad shoulders and pressing your heels into his upper back. The position left you completely open to him, vulnerable and exposed. Robby groaned, the sound vibrating against your core as he finally leaned in.
The first lick of his tongue was broad and slow, dragging from your entrance up to your puffy clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and it made you cry out loudly, threading your fingers into his greying hair as he began to devour you with the same intensity he brought to every procedure at work. He licked and sucked with precision, alternating between long and flat strokes to tight and quick circles around your clit.
His beard was scratching your inner thighs and outer lips in the most delicious way, adding a kind of texture that made your toes curl. “Robby… Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, rolling your hips against his mouth.
He hummed in response, pulling back with his lips glistening with your arousal just so he could speak to you. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. I want to hear it.”
“So good… your tongue—oh god, your mouth, Robby. It’s driving me crazy. Don’t stop, please.”
“You’re being so good for me,” he praised, diving back in to suck your clit into his mouth, flicking it rapidly while applying suction with his lips.
Before you could register it, he teased your entrance with two thick fingers, slowly sliding them inside you, letting your own greedy hole swallow them. Once he curled them upward to find that perfect spot, the sensation had you moaning loudly and arching off the bed.
Robby pumped his fingers steadily, matching the rhythm of his tongue with his digits. A few moments later, he stopped again briefly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes and shiny lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Spread open for me, taking my fingers so well. This pussy is perfect, made for me. Keep moaning for me. Let me hear how much you love my mouth on you.”
You obeyed, your moans spilling freely as he returned to his task with renewed hunger. The pleasure built fast and faster, making your thighs tremble around his head and your feet dig into his back as you held him exactly where you needed him. Robby gripped your hip with his free hand, holding you steadily while he worked you closer and closer to the edge with expert skill. Every command, every praise, every flick of his tongue pushed you higher.
Robby didn’t relent, he kept his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking with rhythmic pressure, devouring you like a man starved. “Robby—oh fuck, yes!” The pleasure was overwhelming, every single nerve ending in your body was alight as he worked you higher.
“Keep those legs open for me, sweetheart,” he growled against your clit. “Don’t you dare close them. I want to feel you squeezing around my fingers while I eat this pretty pussy.” He added a third finger slowly, stretching you wider, the burn blending perfectly with the pleasure. “That’s it… take three for me. Feel how full you are? You’re doing so well. Such a good girl taking everything I give you.”
The wet sounds of his fingers plunging into your dripping pussy and his mouth sucking hungrily on your clit filled the air. You were soaking his beard, his chin, his wrist, but he didn’t care. Robby slid a hand under you, grabbing a firm handful of your ass and lifting your hips slightly off the bed. The new angle let him bury his face even deeper, working your clit with more precision while he fingerfucked you harder. “Just like that,” he praised you between licks. “Grind on my tongue, baby. Use my mouth. Show me how bad you need to come.”
You obeyed helplessly once again, rolling your hips and bucking them against him as the coil in your belly tightened unbearably. The pleasure built in powerful waves until your thighs started to shake violently around his head. Robby kept talking you through it, pushing you closer to the edge.
“You’re getting so close, aren’t you? I can feel this tight pussy clenching around my fingers. Come on, let go. Cum all over my tongue. I want to taste it. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”
The orgasm crashed over you with blinding intensity, making your back bow off the bed, a loud and broken cry tearing from your throat as your pussy spasmed hard around his digits. Your thighs were squeezing his head tightly, your heels digging into his back as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through you. Robby didn’t stop though, he kept sucking your clit through the peak, curling and thrusting his fingers to draw out every last shudder.
You came harder than you ever had. So hard that your vision went white for a moment as the pleasure bordered on overwhelming. Your moans turned into whimpers as the orgasm slowly ebbed, leaving you limp and gasping on the bed.
Robby finally eased back, gently lowering your hips and kissing softly along your inner thighs. He looked up at you with dark and satisfied eyes. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “So beautiful when you cum for me.”
You lay there panting, your thighs were still twitching, completely wrecked and already aching for more of him. Robby climbed back up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. He was so close that his hard cock was pressing insistently against your thigh through his pants.
“That was… amazing,” you whisper with your voice hoarse from moaning. “So much better than I ever imagined.”
Robby chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. “Yeah? Better than your hand?” His eyes were sparkling with lust.
You laughed breathlessly, nodding. “So much better. Your mouth… God, Robby. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
He hummed in satisfaction, grinding his still-clothed erection slowly against your bare, sensitive pussy. The thick ridge of his cock was being pressed perfectly against your clit, giving him some much needed relief while teasing you both. “I loved doing that for you,” he murmured. “You were so good for me, sweetheart. So responsive, so wet. The way you moaned my name and squeezed my head with those pretty thighs… fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”
Robby rolled his hips deliberately, the friction making you whimper and arch up into him. You could feel how achingly hard he was and how much he’d been holding back. You slid up your hands down his chest, feeling the soft flesh beneath his shirt.
“I want you,” you breathed, looking up at him with need. “Please, Robby.”
He stilled for a moment, as if to pulling himself together. “Tell me what you want. Be specific.”
You bit your lip, feeling the warmth invade your cheeks. “Your cock. I want you to fuck me. I need you inside me.”
Robby let out a groan, sitting back on his knees between your spread thighs. He reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out the anticipation. You sit up slightly, eager to help, moving your fingers to tug his pants down along with his underwear.
“I’ve been dying to see you,” you confessed as you pulled his pants down his hips. He caught your wrists before you could push his boxers down.
Robby looked almost nervous, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Wait… I, uh—” He cleared his throat, flicking his eyes away for a second. “I haven’t trimmed down there in a while. This whole night was… unexpected. I would’ve cleaned up if I’d known we were gonna end up here.”
He said it like it was something to be embarrassed about. Like it might actually make you want him less. It made you soft, you cupped his jaw, turning his face back to yours.
“Robby. Do you honestly think I give a damn about that? It’s just hair.”
He let out a self-conscious breath, still looking a little defensive. “I know. I know it’s just hair. It’s just… it’s probably a fucking jungle down there right now. You don’t have to— I mean, you don’t have to do anything if it’s too much.”
The way he was trying to give you an out was almost painfully endearing. You shook your head. “Just let me see you,” you whispered.
You slid his boxers down his thighs and freed his cock, it sprang out, thick and hard, the head flushed in a dark red with arousal. It was beautiful, so long, girthy, with a slight upward curve, prominent veins running along the shaft. Exactly like he’d warned, there was a thick, dark mat of coarse hair at the base, dense and untrimmed. He looked completely natural, it was so him, deeply masculine and unpolished.
A fresh rush of wetness slipped down your inner thighs. Your fingers twitched with the need to touch him there.
You looked up at him through your lashes “I love it,” you slowly carded your fingers through the thick hair at the base of his member. “You look so fucking hot like this. I like every single inch of you.”
Robby’s whole body shivered under your touch. “God…” he rasped as he stared down at you. “You’re gonna kill me tonight.”
Almost with instinct, you wrapped your hand around it, stroking the shaft slowly from base to tip, feeling the heat and weight of his member.
Robby hissed in pleasure, twitching his hips forward into your grip as he watched your hand move up and down his cock. “Fuck, your hand feels good,” he groaned, letting you stroke him for a while, savoring the sight of your smaller hand working his thick length, making a bead of precum leak from the tip.
After a few moments, he gently stopped you, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “Lay back down for me, sweetheart. Keep those legs open nice and wide. Just like before.”
You obeyed, lying back against the pillows and spreading your thighs for him. Robby reached over toward the nightstand, stretching one arm past you as he pulled open the top drawer. He rummaged through it for a few seconds, before his hand closed around what he was looking for.
A moment later he sat back, a condom held between his fingers. He held it up, searching for your eyes with his. “I’ve got this if you want me to wear it.”
You shook your head, reaching up to touch his arm. “No. I want you bare. I’m on the pill.”
You both knew it might not have been the smartest option, doing it raw, with nothing between you. But there was a deep, unspoken trust between the two of you, forged through long shifts, that made you feel safe. And in that moment, that trust felt solid enough to lean on.
The hunger that had taken over both of you made anything else almost unbearable. The need to feel each other completely bare, skin on skin, heat on heat, with nothing separating you, was overwhelming.
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” He tossed the condom aside, leaning down to kiss you deeply again. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” you whispered against his lips. “I want to feel all of you.”
He groaned, positioning himself between your legs and nudging the thick head of his cock against your slick entrance. The anticipation felt electric, this was the culmination of over a year of longing, of hours of texts, and now all that was left was this desperate connection. Robby gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he looked down at you with hunger.
The night is only beginning, and the way he’s looking at you promises he’s going to take his time ruining you in the best possible way.
As his cockhead was being rubbed up and down your folds, teasing your clit with every pass, coating itself with your juices, the sensation felt maddening, promising everything you’d fantasized about for so long. You whimpered, twitching your hips up instinctively to chase more contact.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Robby commanded you softly, the same authoritative tone that had guided you through countless procedures was now guiding you through this. He cupped your chin gently, tilting your face so your gazes locked. “Keep looking at me the whole time. I want to see you while I fuck you.”
You nodded shakily, unable to look away even if you wanted to. Robby continued rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness, drawing out the anticipation until you were squirming beneath him.
“That’s it,” he whispered against your mouth. “So wet for me already. This pussy is going to take me so well. Breathe for me, relax and let me in.” He pressed forward slowly, breaching your entrance with only the tip. The stretch was immediate and intense, opening you up inch by inch as he sank deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, but you forced your eyes open, locking them on his as he watched every flicker of pleasure cross your face.
“Easy, baby,” he cooed, stroking your thigh soothingly while the other braced beside your head. “You’re doing so good. Feel how you’re stretching around me? So tight and warm… fuck, you feel incredible.”
You moaned loudly as he continued sliding in, the deliberate thrust filling you completely until he was buried to the hilt, until his hips were flushed against yours. The fullness was overwhelming, his thick cock stretching your walls like nobody had stretched you before, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you.
Robby stayed still for a moment buried deep, resting his forehead against yours as he looked straight into your eyes. “There you go. All the way in. You took every inch.” He started to thrust with deep rolls of his hips that drag his cock along your walls with exquisite friction. “Wrap your legs around me. Hold me close while I fuck you.”
You did as he said, locking your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his lower back. The new angle let him sink even deeper, and you cried out in pleasure, digging your nails into his shoulders. Robby kept talking you through it, just like he knew you liked.
“That’s my girl. Feel that? I’m hitting that spot inside you, huh?” He angled his hips slightly, grinding deep on every stroke. Robby slid one hand up to cup and squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple as he thrusted harder.
Robby moved his hand from your breast to cup your chin. His grip was gentle enough not to hurt, yet firm enough that you felt every one of his fingers pressing against the bones of your jaw. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see how good my cock feels inside this tight pussy.” He tilted your face up and held it there, leaving you no choice but to meet his eyes.
And God… what a glorious sight he was. This handsome man, with his face flushed, his brow glistening with sweat, devouring you with his gaze as he kept driving his cock into you.
His face was only inches from yours, and he kept fucking you in long strokes while he held your chin like that, as if he were starving for every single expression that crossed your face. He loved watching the way pleasure wrecked you. The way your lips parted around helpless moans, the way you bit down on your lower lip only for it to slip free again with a broken sound. The way your eyes went glassy and pleading, silently begging him for more even as your body trembled around his cock. He drank it all in like a man who had been thirsty for years.
With his free hand, he gripped your waist, holding you in place so he could drive into you with more power. Every slide of his cock stretched you perfectly, dragging the fat tip along your g-spot like that was what it was made for.
“Robby—oh god, yes!” You moaned loudly, raising your hips to meet his thrust and tightening your legs around him. Your tits were bouncing with every powerful stroke, and he leaned down to suck one nipple into his mouth again, flicking his tongue as he continued fucking you.
“You feel so good,” he groaned against your skin, switching to the other breast. “So tight and wet around me. This pussy was made for my cock, wasn’t it? Taking me so deep.” His hand on your waist slid down to grip your ass, lifting your hips slightly to change the angle as he thrusted harder. “Lift your legs higher for me, sweetheart,” he said against your neck,kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there. Ronny held the back of your thigh, helping guide your leg up. “That’s it… over my shoulder. Let me get deeper.”
You whimpered as he assisted you, hooking your leg over his shoulder. He did the same with the other, folding you nearly in half beneath him. The new angle allowed him to sink impossibly deeper, until he was pressing the head firmly against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, grinding against your g-spot relentlessly.
“Fuck—Robby, it’s so deep like this,” you moaned, fluttering your eyes shut for just a moment as the intense sensation washed over you.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he chided gently but firmly, cupping your jaw with his hand to tilt your face back to his. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Keep them open. I want to watch you while I fuck you like this. Don’t look away.”
You forced your eyes open, locking onto his hungry gaze as he continued hammering into you. The eye contact made everything more intimate and overwhelming. The feeling of his hand leavinf your jaw and sliding down between your bodies made you shiver. Robby found your swollen clit and began rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts.
The combined stimulation was devastating. The pleasure was burning higher in your core, so close to finally exploding. Your body was arching and squirming beneath his frame as you scratched down his back and trembled over his shoulders. Every thrust, every rub of his fingers on your clit, every moan and grunt that escaped his mouth pushed you closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” Robby groaned, never removing his sight from yours. “Look at you taking my cock so deep. You’re getting close again, aren’t you? I can feel it. Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you cum all over my cock. Keep your eyes on me when you do.”
You bowed your back off the bed as your climax took over your body. A loud cry tore from your throat as your pussy clenched rhythmically around his length. Your thighs shook violently over his shoulders and you dug your nails harder into his back when the waves of pleasure crashed through you. Robby sekpt thrusting through it, drawing out your orgasm with deep strokes and continued pressure on your clit.
“You look so beautiful when you cum for me… that’s it, sweetheart. Give it all to me. You’re being so good.”
By the time he finally slowed and gently pulled out of you, you were still trembling and gasping. Robby layed back on the bed beside you, with his cock hard and glistening with your release. “Come here, baby,” he said. “Get on top. I want to watch you ride me.”
He helped you shift positions, gripping your hips firmly to guide you as you straddled him. “Easy, sweetheart. Take your time… that’s it. Feel me right there? Let me watch you take every inch.”
You positioned the head at your slick entrance and began to sink down, inch by inch. The stretch was intense all over again, his girth opening you up as you lowered yourself onto him. Robby kept his hands still on your hips to steady you, stroking your skin soothingly while watching every expression on your face.
“Fuck, look at that,” he groaned. “You’re doing so well. Keep going… take a little more. Feel how full you are?”
Louder moans left your mouth as you sank lower, the fullness was overwhelming in the best way. Bracing your hands on his broad chest for balance, you finally took him to the hilt, resting your ass against his thighs. Robby squeezed your hips encouragingly. “Ride me. Roll your hips like that… yes, just like that.”
Whn you started moving, rolling, and grinding your hips in a steady rhythm, the pleasure built quickly. His cock was dragging along your walls as you found a rhythm that made your tits bounce and your clit grind against his pelvis.
Robby kept moving his eyes are everywhere, watching where your pussy stretched around his shaft, sliding up to your bouncing breasts, then locking onto your face. He reaches up with both hands, cupping your tits and rolling your nipples as you ride him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep going… faster if you want. Take what you need from me.”
Without a word, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward. He sat up just enough to help you pull it off, and the second the fabric cleared his head, your hands were on him.
God, you loved his body. Your moved your palm slowly over his chest, feeling the coarse hair and the thud of his heart beneath your fingertips. You dragged your hands lower, mapping the soft, rounded curve of his belly with desire. It turned you on more than any gym-honed torso ever could. As you pressed your palms into the softness, your fingers dag in gently. Then you smoothed your hands over it again and again, savoring the way it yielded under your touch.
You were mumbling praises and moans between gasps, completely lost in the sensation. “Robby… you feel so good… so deep… fuck, I love your cock inside me…”
At one point, Robby planted his feet firmly on the bed, bent his knees, and started thrusting up to meet you. The change felt devastating, he was now fucking you from below with powerful strokes that made you cry out loudly as he droveinto you.
The slap of skin on skin grew louder when the slamming into you intensified. “Fuck—Robby!” you moaned, letting your head fall back as the pleasure overwhelmed you.
“Eyes on me if you can, sweetheart,” he growled, moving his fingers down to rub your clit again. “I’m getting close. You feel too good. You’re gonna make me cum.”
You were a moaning and squirming mess on top of him, riding and grinding as he thrusted up harder. His fingers on your clit and his cock hitting deep pushed you toward another peak, but it was his impending orgasm that had you focused on him.
“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, snapping his hips up faster. “Fuck—can I cum inside you? Please, I want to fill you up.”
“Yes,” you gasped, riding him desperately. “Cum inside me, Robby. I want it. Fill me up. Please—”
With a deep groan, Robby thrusted up hard one last time and came, pulsing nside you, flooding your pussy with thick and warm ropes of cum. He held you down on him, gripping your hips tightly as he emptied himself completely. The feeling of him cumming inside you, fully claiming you, triggered your own smaller orgasm, making your walls clench rhythmically around his pulsing cock.
You both stayed locked together, panting. Robby stroked your back and thighs as you came down from the high befor pulling you down against his chest, kissing your forehead, keeping his cock still buried deep inside you as his release slowly leaked out around him, so much that you could feel the hot nd sticky evidence of his climax.
There were no more walls, just the two of you, finally giving in to everything you’ve both wanted and repressed for so long. You stayed draped on top of Robby for a long stretch of time, both of you catching your breath as the intensity slowly ebbed. Eventually, you lifted your head and looked at him. “That was… amazing. I wouldn’t even have dreamed that it’d be that good.”
He hummed in agreement, continuing his soothing path along your back. “It was. Better than I let myself imagine. You felt perfect.”
The praise made a warm feeling bloom in your chest. After a few more quiet moments, Robby gently helped you sit up, easing you off his cock with a shared sigh. You both winced slightly at the loss of connection and the feeling of emptiness, but he pulled you down beside him on the bed, wrapping his arms around you again as you cuddled into his side.
“So… you don’t regret it, do you?”
He met your eyes as a small smile began tugging at his lips beneath the beard. “Right now? I can’t regret having amazing sex with you. My mind is still somewhere up in the clouds.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I don’t know what will happen tomorrow when reality hits, but tonight… no regrets.”
You nestled closer, throwing one leg over his. The cuddling felt easy, natural, like you’d been doing this for years. For tonight, the outside world, the hospital, the guilt, the what ifs didn’t exist. There was only the two of you, and Robby might be right about reality hitting tomorrow, but right now, in the darkness of his room, everything felt right.
A/N: Two attempts at posting this fic, and two times Tumblr’s stupid AI mistakenly flagged it😭 I’ve spent days trying to figure out what was causing the problem and doing everything I could to finally get this fic posted for all of you. So if you’re reading this, it means it worked. Hopefully.
If you end up enjoying the fic, I’d really appreciate it if you could help me share it with a reblog (only if you enjoyed the fic) cause I’ve put a lot of work on it
Well, I hope you enjoyed this little something I worked on when inspiration finally struck me. I don’t know if I read it somewhere or if we all collectively decided it, but Robby absolutely feels like the type of guy who talks you through it. You’re telling me the man who spends all day teaching med students and residents how to do procedures wouldn’t also be guiding his girl in bed? It’s literally in his nature!!! This TikTok also got me inspired because, yes, he absolutely looks at you through it too.
I also think Robby’s canon texting style is weirdly inconsistent. In that scene in season one where he’s texting Jake, sometimes he starts messages with capital letters and sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he ends sentences with a period, sometimes he doesn’t. In my head, he has perfect grammar but deliberately tries to sound Gen Z and chill when he’s texting someone younger than him lol. Anyway, I tried to replicate that here too.
Thank you all so much for your patience. I really appreciate it, and I hope I can stick around for good this time🩷
Hi cutie pies, this feels slightly different from what I've written before, but I really enjoyed writing it and would love to know what you think. I hope you enjoy x
Word count: 4.9k
Content warning; Pregnancy, babies, insecure/uncertain reader and fears surrounding pregnancy, motherhood and starting a family
Summary; After a positive pregnancy test, your whole world is turned upside down but Robby doesn't know, and you don't know how to tell him
There are certain moments in life that you remember forever. You knew this was one of them. You held the impossibly heavy test in your hands, the word staring back at you.
Pregnant.
You tried to imagine how other people would feel in a situation like this. How you imagined you would feel, if the day ever came. You had pictured yourself taking the test with your partner beside you. Sitting on the side of the bath, anxiously waiting, counting down the seconds. The timer would sound, and you’d jump up, before taking a second to stop. One single second before the world changed forever. You’d tell your partner that you couldn’t look, and they would pick up the test for you. You’d know before they even said anything. Their face would give it away. And then would follow the blissful moment when the only people in the world who knew your baby was there, was you and your partner. That’s how you always imagined it.
But instead, you sat on the bathroom floor. Where you had been for nearly an hour now. Eye swollen and red from crying, legs numb beneath you.
You wondered if the fan had always been that loud, or if you had just never listened before.
You hadn’t realised that the paint had chipped at the baseboard near the door. The hinge looked loose from there, and you knew you needed to tighten it. Oil it too to stop the squeak that always woke you when Robby used the bathroom at night.
Robby. The one person who you wanted more than anything, and in equal measures, the one person you knew you couldn’t face.
Robby and you had spoken about a lot of things in the duration of your relationship. Kids were never one of them. It felt like something that had been stored away, out of sight, out of mind. Filed away, never to be touched or spoken about. Occasionally you would take it out of hiding, only when you were alone. And you would allow yourself a moment to consider it. To imagine it. But then the oven timer would go, and it was time to dish up dinner. Or your break would end and you would have more patients to treat. The moment never lasted long. It was fleeting, and so brief that you would forget about it the second it was over.
But this wasn’t something that could be filed away anymore. This wasn’t something that would be forgotten once you finished unloading the dishwasher. This was real now. So terrifyingly real.
“Sweetheart?” The knock on the door pulled you back to reality. The place you were trying to hide from. You tried to stand, your weak legs feeling unsteady beneath you.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a second.”
There were no more tears left to dry, the streak on your cheeks looked almost permanent now. You looked in the mirror, and decided that you could pass it off as feeling under the weather. That’s why you hadn’t gone to work, and why Robby had left that morning with you still bundled up in bed. Only after he left did you rush out to buy the pregnancy test. The test that you took alone. You stared at it on the counter. The only people in the world who knew your baby was there, was you, and that was such a heavy burden to carry alone.
“Do you need anything?” There was so much you needed, but nothing you could ask for through the bathroom door. Nothing Robby could provide as easy as a glass of water or paracetamol.
“I’m fine, I just need a minute.”
You knew he hadn’t moved from outside the door, you could hear the floorboards shifting under his feet as he waited out there for you anxiously. You opened the cupboard beneath the sink and stashed the test in the box of tampons you knew Robby wouldn’t touch. You allowed yourself one graze of your stomach, the skin beneath your finger tips prickling up. You lowered your top quickly, letting the moment pass quicker than it had arrived. You unlocked the door, gripping Robby tightly before he had a chance to get a look at your face. You were terrified that he would know from just one look at you. You didn’t want to risk it. You buried your face in his chest, his clothes felt cold and they still faintly smelt like the outside air he had just come in from. His hand snaked up your back, resting on the back of your head as he held you against him. As he held both of you against him.
“Are you still feeling sick?” He asked, his voice soft as it always was when you were unwell. You did feel sick, like you were about to throw up at any minute. It wasn’t morning sickness, it wasn’t the flu Robby thought you had come down with suddenly. It was the realization that the world you knew, had changed forever. You knew, nothing would ever be the same.
Robby pottered in the kitchen, heating up the soup he had bought for you on the way home from work. He had positioned a cushion behind your back, a blanket draped over your lap and ordered you not to move a muscle. You didn’t fight it, and you didn’t know if your legs would carry you even if you tried.
“Careful, it’s hot.” He said as he placed the bowl in your hands with a dish towel around it. He placed a kiss on your head before sitting down beside you carefully so as to not spill your dinner. “I’m worried about you,” he said, placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You are a little warm, do you want to have a cold bath?”
You turned to look at him then, his big brown worried eyes staring back at you. You leaned forward, placing the bowl onto the coffee table, and laying backwards into him.
“I’m feeling better than I did this morning, I’ll be ok.” You assured him, but you could tell by the sign he let out again your hair that he wasn’t sure. He worried, he always did. He had insisted that morning that if you were staying home then he was too. He wanted to look after you, make sure that he was there in case you needed anything. You had argued with him for half an hour that you didn’t need looking after. Although he didn’t agree with you and never would, he left for work late, and texted you the whole day to make sure you were alright.
“How was work?” You asked, his hand playing with the loose strands of your hair.
“It was busy,” he kissed your head. “And I missed you.” He kissed you again. You craned your neck to steal a glance at him.
“I missed you too.” You had missed him more than words could say. The longest you had been away from Robby since you met was the week he spent out of town at a work conference. You had only been dating a month, but he called you every night when he got back to his room. You would fall asleep on the phone together, neither of you hanging up if you woke in the night, just enjoying the sound of the other breathing before drifting back to sleep. You had missed him so much that week, when he arrived home he swore that if he ever had another conference that you were tagging along. Invited or not. You had agreed.
But today was different. You missed him in a way you never had done before. Like you were missing something you were worried you would never be reunited with.
“You should try and eat something,” he said, trying to reach for your soup. You placed your hand to his chest to still him, pushing him back against the sofa before you settled against him again.
“I’ll eat it in a bit, I just want to be with you for a while.” Robby didn’t protest, chuckling at your request. You were always more affectionate when you were unwell. Robby had grown to know that, and allowed you both to indulge in the moment together. You didn’t realise you had fallen asleep until you began to stir in Robby’s arms. He had carried you to bed, placing you down gently beneath the covers before climbing in behind you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your back flush against him. His hand slid around you, resting against the warmth of your stomach.
“Maybe you should stay home today.” Robby suggested as he put on his shoes by the front door. “You still look a little peaky.”
You had woken up before Robby that morning, showering and dressing before the alarm rang. You made breakfast ready for when he woke up and cleaned the kitchen, trying to keep your mind busy.
“I am fine Robby, I promise.” Your hand stroked his head, as he crouched beneath you to tie his laces.
“I’m your boss, so the only person who could reprimand you is me, and I promise I’ll go easy on you.” He winked up at you. You offered him your hand to help him stand, and he groaned as his knees clicked on his way up.
“You’re too good to me.” You laughed, kissing him before reaching for the door.
“Promise me you’ll take it easy, and if you start feeling worse I am sending you home.” Robby grabbed his keys from the bowl on the counter, and slipped his jacket on before slinging his bag over his shoulder. He stole your bag from your hand, replacing it with his.
“Understood.” You walked to the car, hand in hand. Robby opened the door for you, and threw your bags in the back. The ride to work was the same as usual, The radio sang quickly in the background as you and Robby chatted about anything and everything. Everything except the one thing that had been on your mind all morning. You wanted to tell him. You wanted more than anything, the second he came home, to run out of the bathroom with the test in your hand and show him. You wanted to stay up all night, both of you taking turns to remind each other that you were having a baby. That it was real, and it was exciting. You wanted that, but you were so frightened of the alternative. You had to consider all the possibilities. It was what you were trained to do. Even the most improbable has to be considered. And unfortunately for you, it wasn’t the most improbable outcome. It was a fifty fifty draw.
You knew it was possible that Robby would have stood there in shock, and you would have watched as his brain processed the information you had surprised him with. Then he would drop his bag at his feet, he would hug you and hold you and you would laugh in the hallway as you both stood together, taking in the most important moment of your lives.
But you knew it was also possible that none of that would happen. That you would tell him and you would see it in his eyes. You knew Robby was a good man, and you knew that he would do the right thing. He would provide for you, and the baby. He would make sure you took the right vitamins and he would drive you to all your appointments. But he would also zone out on the couch, staring into space as he realised what this meant. He would lay awake at night, unable to sleep with the burden of this new stress. He would suddenly start sleeping on the sofa, saying that he wants to make sure you’re sleeping undisturbed. He would slowly start to back away, giving you more space and privacy you didn’t want. You had no idea what version of Robby you were going to get, and that scared you more than anything.
You tried to busy yourself with work. Distracting yourself with patients, scans and charts. There was no room for pregnancy here. No room for secrets.
“Morning sunshine,” Dana greeted you, handing you a patient's chart.
“Room three needs discharge papers, room seven is waiting on blood results and radiology called down about your CT, they’re sending them back down now, it was all clear.”
“Perfect,” you said, glancing at the chart now in your hands. “Thanks Dana.”
You didn’t stop walking. One patient became two. Two became four. It was good, you needed to keep moving. You were too scared of what might happen if you stopped. You didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think of how excited you were. You didn’t want to address the fact that you were going to be a mother. That you were going to have a baby, and they were going to be perfect no matter what. You were going to be responsible for a tiny little life, and that was such a blessing, something you could only have ever dreamed of. But you didn’t want to think about it, you didn’t want to allow yourself to be happy, not yet. Not until you knew what you were dealing with. Not until you knew whether you were going to be doing it alone. Either way, you were going to give your baby all the love in the world. You were going to be the best mother you could be. You were going to do it all, no matter what.
By late afternoon, you ducked into an empty supply room under the excuse of restocking IV cannulas. The moment the door clicked shut, you exhaled. Without thinking, your hand drifted toward your stomach again. Nothing had changed. There was no bump, no visible sign.
Just the impossible knowledge that someone was there. So tiny no ultrasound could show much more than a flicker, yet somehow capable of consuming every thought you had.
“Hi,’ you whispered trying to fight the tears sitting just at the brink.
“You have completely turned everything upside for me here,” you laughed, no longer able to keep the tears at bay. “But I am so happy you’re in there.”
You imagined Robby, and wondered if the baby would have your eyes or his. You hoped they would be blessed with his smile and his laugh.
The door cracked open, and you snatched your hand away so quickly it almost hurt.
"There you are,” Robby slipped inside, "I've been looking everywhere."
"I was," you gestured vaguely toward the shelves. "Stocking."
He looked around. There wasn't a single box out of place.
"Right."
You laughed awkwardly, fiddling with the watch upon your wrist.
"I needed a minute." His expression softened, his hands reaching out for you.
“Are you feeling ok?”
You nodded, smiling your way through the lie. "Yeah."
“Did you need something, or did you just miss me?” You asked, teasingly.
“Oh I always miss you, but I needed your for a peds consult in room six. Eight-month-old with a high fever. They're waiting on the pediatrician, but Mom's freaking out. Can you go reassure her? Make sure nothing changes while we wait."
You felt your stomach drop but nod automatically anyway.
"Of course." You open up the door, slipping out without another word.
You rubbed your hands against your hips, trying to dry the sweat forming on your palms. You take a slow breath, steadying yourself before pushing open the door to room six. The first thing you noticed wasn't the mother. It was the tiny figure curled on the hospital bed.
A baby. Pink pajamas covered in little yellow ducks. Chubby cheeks flushed with a fever. Tiny fingers wrapped tightly around a stuffed rabbit almost as big as she was. Your heartbeat stuttered and for one impossible second, you saw someone else. Someone who didn't exist yet.
Someone no bigger than a poppy seed. Someone growing quietly beneath your own heartbeat.
Your baby. Yours and Robby’s. The realization landed with enough force to steal the air from your lungs. You blinked rapidly. Professional. You had to be professional. The baby's mother looked up immediately, seemingly calmed just by your presence.
"Doctor?"
You offered a reassuring smile.
“Hello, I know you’ve had a long wait. I am sorry for that.”
The woman looked exhausted, eyes red from crying. "It's ok," she said. But she was far from ok. You could see the fear in her eyes, the lost sleep in the way she stood.
"I know it's frightening, but we are going to take care of her. She’s in the right place.” You washed your hands before stepping over to the cot. You smiled down at the baby.
"Hi, sweetie," Her sleepy eyes blinked up at you. You listened carefully to her chest, counting each breath. Her lungs sounded clear. You checked her ears. A little red, but nothing alarming. You palpated her tummy, watching for any signs of discomfort. She fussed but didn't cry.
"Good girl," you murmured. The tiny compliment slipped out naturally, almost instinctively.
You forced yourself to focus. Temperature, heart rate, hydration, capillary refill. Everything pointed toward something relatively uncomplicated. When you finished, you turned back toward her mother.
"Her lungs sound nice and clear, which is reassuring." The woman's shoulders loosened just slightly, but the worry stayed etched into her face.
"I don't think this is anything particularly serious."
"Really?" You could see the relief wash over her.
"I can't say for certain until we get her blood work back, and we'll keep an eye on her temperature." You offered a reassuring smile. "But I think she's running a viral fever. We should be able to get it under control with some fluids and medication."
She rushed to you, hugging you with such care and gratitude.
"Oh, thank God."
"We'll keep monitoring her for a little while, but right now she's looking much better than I expected from the notes." The woman actually laughed, a shaky, emotional little sound.
"I've been trying to call my husband all morning." She held up her phone. "No signal in here."
You nodded. "The reception's terrible."
"Would it be alright if I stepped outside for just a minute? I don't really want to leave her, but," she seemed unsure if she should have asked.
"Of course." You smiled reassuringly. "I'll stay with her."
"Thank you, thank you so much." She squeezed your hand before hurrying out into the corridor, already unlocking her phone. The door clicked shut behind her and silence settled over the room. You glanced down at the baby in the cot, “looks like it's just us." For a few peaceful seconds, she simply stared. Then her little face scrunched. A tiny whimper escaped.
"Oh, sweetheart," without thinking, you slipped your hands beneath her tiny body and lifted her from the cot. You held her against your chest, and she smelled faintly of baby shampoo.
Almost immediately, the crying eased. "There we go."
You instinctively rocked from side to side and her tiny fingers curled around the fabric of your scrub top. The movement came naturally, like your body somehow already knew what to do.
Your hand found the back of her head, rubbing lightly.
"It's okay," you whispered. "I've got you." She sniffled once, then rested her cheek against your shoulder. Content and safe. Your heart squeezed so painfully you almost couldn't breathe. You looked down at the sleepy little face nestled against you. A lump rose in your throat and before you realized what was happening, your vision blurred. You laughed quietly at yourself, embarrassed. You blinked rapidly, but the tears didn't stop. Instead they spilled over, sliding silently down your cheeks. You weren't even upset. You were a million things all at once, but you weren’t upset. You smiled through your tears. A soft knock sounded behind you, and you barely heard it before the door opened. Robby stepped inside, tablet tucked under one arm. "I was just checking whether," He stopped as his eyes landed on you. Holding the baby with silent tears quietly slipping down your face.
"Hey." His voice softened immediately.
You quickly wiped at your face with the sleeve of your scrub top. “I’m ok.”
"You don't look ok."
You gave a tiny laugh and glanced down at the baby in your arms, who was now half asleep against your shoulder.
“She started crying."
"And then you started crying?"
You let out another helpless laugh.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice, his hand finding the small of your back.
"What happened?"
"I don't know." Which, somehow, was the truth.
"I just picked her up and," you shook your head. “I don’t know.”
You looked away before he could see the fresh tears threatening to fall. "I just hate seeing kids upset." If only it were that simple. He smiled at the sleeping baby. "Looks like she picked the right doctor." For a moment, the three of you stood in comfortable silence. Robby looked at the baby nestled against your shoulder, then back at you. She had completely settled then, tiny breaths evening out against you. He smiled at the sight. "I think she likes you."
You looked down at the sleeping baby, brushing a thumb gently over her back.
"I think she just wanted someone to hold her."
"You've got a calming effect."
You huffed a quiet laugh.
"I was the one crying."
"True." He grinned. "Bit backwards, really."
You rolled your eyes, grateful for the teasing, it felt normal.
"You know,” he hesitated, "it gets me thinking."
Your heart skipped and you looked up at him in a mix of shock and disbelief.
"What?"
He shrugged, almost embarrassed.
"I don't know."
"No, what does?"
He glanced at the baby again before answering.
"This." He nodded toward the baby. "I've been thinking about it a lot recently."
Your pulse began to pound, you felt your head start to swim and you carefully placed the baby back down in her cot, worried of how unsteady you suddenly felt on your feet.
"Thinking about what?" You asked, turning back to him. He let out a quiet breath through his nose.
"Kids."
The room seemed to tilt as you watched him. He laughed awkwardly.
"It's weird. I'll see a family in the waiting room, or one of the babies up here, and," he shook his head with a self-conscious smile. "I just can't get it out of my head."
You couldn't speak. You wanted to, you begged words to come out. Any. But they wouldn’t. He had stolen them from you. He looked almost confused by his own thoughts.
"I keep wondering what it'd be like. And I can picture it, so clearly. You and me.” He kept talking, not noticing the look of wonder on your face.
"I don't know what's gotten into me.” His shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "Maybe I'm getting older. Maybe working around kids is melting my brain. Or maybe,” his eyes drifted back to the cot. "I've just realized I don't think it scares me anymore."
He had no idea that his child was already growing inside you. He had no idea that the thing he was no longer scared of had been terrifying you all day. The door opened, stealing your attention. She stepped back into the room, her phone still in her hand, relief written all over her face. "I finally got hold of my husband."
"That's great. She stirred for a second, but she’s settled now.” You assured her, "I'll be back once we have those test results." The mother nodded gratefully.
"Thank you, Doctor."
You offered one last smile before turning toward the door.
The evening air was cool against your flushed face. You sat on the concrete step outside the emergency entrance, elbows resting on your knees. You always knew pregnancy hormones were rough, but you didn’t expect this. Not this early, not this strong. You felt relieved, like you could suddenly breathe again. Your fear molded into something different, still there, but not the same anymore. The door behind you opened with a familiar creak.
"I thought I'd find you out here." You looked over your shoulder. Robby stepped outside, carrying two takeaway coffees.
"I guessed right."
He held one out.
You accepted it with a quiet, "Thank you." He sat beside you, leaving just enough space between your shoulders. The kind of silence only came after years together, but it was heavy with things you both needed to say. Finally, he sighed.
"I've been replaying that conversation in my head." You looked down at the coffee in your hands.
"I didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't."
"I must have."
"You didn't."
He turned toward you.
"You practically ran out of there."
"I needed a minute."
"I know."
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
"I just," he laughed awkwardly,"if talking about kids freaked you out, I'm sorry."
Your heart clenched. It did freak you out. But not in the way he thought.
"It wasn't that."
"No?"
You shook your head.
"I promise."
He studied your face.
"Then what was it?"
The question hung between you.
You stared at the steam rising from your coffee.
You'd imagined this conversation a hundred different ways over the last twenty four hours. And each different way you pictured it, it was never outside the ED. You laughed quietly. You realised that you had been thinking too much about everything. As complicated as everything was, it was also so simple.
“Robby,” you turned to him now. “I love you more than I can ever explain.” There was concern in his eyes, and confusion. Your fingers found his, intertwining them.
“You’re scaring me.” He said, squeezing your hand.
You knew you had to bite the bullet. Now or never.
"I'm pregnant."
Silence. His face went completely still. For a heartbeat, he simply stared at you and your fears slipped back in again. You weren’t sure if you should drop his hand, give him space.
"What?"
You felt tears sting your eyes.
"I'm pregnant."
His gaze dropped, almost cautiously. To your stomach. Then back to your face. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to work out whether you'd just made the biggest joke of your life.
“Our baby,” his voice cracked. A watery laugh escaped you.
"You've, you're carrying our baby?"
You nodded."I found out yesterday."
For another few seconds, he didn't move. Then, almost like instinct took over, he reached out. His hands landed gently against your stomach as though he couldn't quite believe there was already a tiny life growing beneath his palms.
His breathing hitched.
"Oh my God."
His forehead dropped until it rested lightly against his wrist on your stomach. You watched his shoulders begin to shake. At first, you thought he was laughing. Then you heard it. A quiet sob and your heart broke.
"Robby," You stroked his hair, and his laugh slipped through his tears.
"I can't," another breath caught in his throat. "I can't believe this." His fingers trembled where they rested against you.
"Our baby." He said the words like they weren’t something he was scared of, but something he cherished. Like he was afraid speaking too loudly might make them disappear. You couldn't stop crying anymore.
"I'm sorry."
He looked up immediately.
"What?"
"I was so scared." Your voice wavered. "I didn't know what you would do. I didn’t want to tell you, because I had no idea how you would react, and I was terrified of what might happen. His expression crumpled.
"You thought I'd react badly?" You weren’t sure what you thought. You didn’t know, not for sure. You didn’t want to believe that he would be happy, because it would only hurt so much more if he wasn’t. But you know Robby better than anyone, and underneath all your fear and reserve, you knew that he loved you and that was all that mattered. Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.
"I kept thinking, what if you're not ready? What if you panic? What if this changes everything between us?"
Before you could say another word, he was on his feet. He cupped your face in both hands.
"Listen to me."
His own tears were still falling. "There is no universe in which this is a bad thing. This is good, this is so good" A sob escaped you. He rested his forehead against yours.
"I am shocked."
You laughed through your tears.
"I can see that."
He smiled, his eyes red. "I mean, I was literally talking about kids five minutes ago. And somehow," he let out a disbelieving laugh. "Somehow, our baby was already there while I was saying all of that."
You nodded. His face softened, looking at you with nothing but unconditional love.
"You never have to be scared of me." He kissed your forehead, then your nose. Then, without a second thought, he knelt in front of you again. His hands returned to your stomach. He smiled through tears that refused to stop falling.
"Hi." He looked up at you, laughing softly through his own tears. "I know you're only tiny," his thumb stroked gently over your scrub top, "but I already love you so much."
You covered your mouth with your hand, overwhelmed. Robby stood again and wrapped you into the tightest hug he'd ever given you. One hand stayed protectively against your back. The other rested over your stomach.
"I've got you," he whispered. "I've got both of you."
You cried for the hundredth time since finding out, but this time there was no fear. You weren’t frightened anymore. You were the happiest you had ever been.
The café was bright and noisy in the comfortable way Sunday brunch places always were. Plates clinked against countertops, espresso machines hissed, and conversations overlapped into a pleasant hum.
Angie sat at a corner table, turning her coffee mug slowly between her hands. She'd been there for fifteen minutes waiting. She'd already rehearsed the conversation a dozen different ways.
"There she is.” Tiffany smiled, slipping off her sunglasses as she walked over. "I'm sorry I'm late." She hugged her friend. "Eva couldn't decide if she wanted pancakes or cereal, so naturally she had both."
Angie laughed. "Sounds about right."
Tiffany slid into the booth across from her. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
A waitress came by to take their order, and they talked about normal things. Coffee, eggs, whether the potatoes were actually worth ordering. It was almost enough to make Angie forget why she'd invited Tiff out in the first place. Almost.
"How's everything with the wedding?"
"Good." The blonde nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "We're just waiting on Richie's rsvp."
"Richie?"
"Yeah. Could you talk to him? He listens to you."
"I don't think he really listens to anyone." Angie chuckled softly.
"He listens to you, Ange."
She hesitated, putting all her focus on folding the napkin on the table. "Tiff, I need to talk to you."
"Okay." She nodded. "What's up?"
"I don't really know how to say this." She nervously laughed and look up at her friend. "You're my friend, Tiff. My really good friend. You've always been there for me through everything."
"Are you breaking up with me?" She joked.
"Tiff, Richie and I are together. Like seriously. And I know this makes things weird, and I'm sorry-"
"That was it?"
"Um...yeah."
"Honey, I already knew that."
"You did?"
"Yeah, I've known for weeks." She shrugged, taking another sip of her coffee.
"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you confront me?"
"Why would I? That's not my place."
"It's not weird for you?"
"No! Honestly, I'm thrilled you both found someone."
Angie smiled softly and placed her hand on top of Tiff's. "Thank you."
"Nothing to thank me for. I just want you to be happy."
"I am."
"Good."
"Wait, how did you know?"
The blonde scoffed. "Oh, come on, Angie. It's obvious."
"What do you mean?"
"The way he looks at you, the way he talks about you. He's so in love with you. I think a part of him always has been." She sighed. "But I'm happy for you. Both of you."
"Thank you, Tiff."
🤍
"Holy shit." Angie whispered to herself as she walked through the front door of Ever. It was big, luxurious, and unlike anything she'd ever seen. There was dark blue lighting in the hallway as she walked through it towards the crowd of people.
"Hey."
"Hey, Carm." She let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a familiar face as she hugged her brother in law. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm all good."
"This place is fucking insane, Bear."
"I know. It's pretty amazing."
"Chef."
He turned as a blonde man with a slight accent walked over and hugged him briefly.
"Angie, this is Luca. We started here together. This is my sister in law, Angie."
"Nice to finally put a face to the name." Luca reached out and shook her hand.
"He talked about me?"
"He did. All good things."
She glanced at her brother who was trying to hide his sheepish grin. "It's really nice to meet you too. Carmy said you're very talented."
"That means a lot coming from him." He placed his hand on Carmy's shoulder.
"Stop it, man."
"No, for real. Your brother is a fucking machine."
"Yeah. He's pretty great."
"I'm gonna take a seat. I think dinner's starting any minute now."
"Alright, man."
"Angie, nice meeting you again."
"Yeah, you too."
"See ya."
She waited until he stepped away to whisper to Carmy. "I thought his picture was cute. He's hotter in person."
"That's so weird." He groaned.
"It's not weird, it's true. I'm just saying."
"I don't need to hear that."
"Whatever."
"Come on, let's go sit."
They headed over to the dining room and approached a table as Carmy introduced her to more people. Sydney sat near the wall and stood to hug the both of them.
"Hey, Syd."
"Hey. You look nice."
"Thanks, you too."
"Hey, everybody. This is chef Angie."
"Oh, you don't have to call me that outside of work."
"Okay, well, this is Angie. You know Luca."
"Oh yeah, we go way back. Like 4 minutes ago."
The table laughed as they sat down.
"So you're Carmy's sister in law?"
"Yeah."
"Where'd you go to culinary school?"
"Oh, I didn't. I'm not a chef. I mean, I am technically a chef, but not really. Not like you guys."
"She's being modest." Carmen said to the group. "She's an incredible chef."
"Stop. I'm really just there for the moral support."
"Are you kidding?" Syd asked. "The whole place would've fallen apart if you weren't there. And it was literally falling apart at one point."
"Syd."
"I'm serious. The Bear is really yours, Ange."
"The Beef was mine. The Bear is ours."
Carmy smiled softly and nodded at her. "Yeah it is."
They went around the table talking and sharing stories for a while. Angie still felt like somewhat of a black sheep among the group. All these people went to school, trained, traveled, and did all these amazing things to get where they are. And all she did was marry into the Berzatto family.
"Has anyone ever left on the preorder option?"
Everyone laughed at Syd and shook their heads in reply.
"Uh, no."
"Nope."
"We were just telling stories so I was just wondering." She put her hands up in defense.
"How did that go?"
"It was rough. Angie passed out."
"I did pass out."
"What?"
"Oh my god."
"It wasn't that bad, I was fine."
"So, what got you into cooking?"
"Uh, my husband. He owned the restaurant before it was all shiny and new."
"Yeah, my dad used to love that place. I miss it sometimes."
She smiled. "Me too. But I couldn't be happier with where I'm at now."
The conversation was cut short by the clanking of a wine glass.
"Sorry, I forgot my spoon. I went to use my watch." Chef Terry chuckled. "Using my Rolex. Um...this will be quick. I just wanted to thank you all for being here. And it's so lovely to see you all again."
Angie's gaze shifted from the woman standing in front of the crowd to the man standing near the wall in the back of it.
She gave him a small smile and wave from her seat. She could see his blue eyes softening from across the room as he smiled back at her.
"And I think what I've learned over the years, uh, in all the places I've worked, is, uh, people don't remember the food. It's the people that they remember."
Angie's smile faded into something softer when she heard that. Her thoughts drifted for a moment. To The Beef. To the little apartment over on North Broadway where she'd rocked Sophia to sleep after twelve hour shifts.
To Mikey laughing so hard that he snorted because Richie had dropped an entire tray of Italian beefs on the floor.
To Christmases that somehow managed to be both beautiful and catastrophic.
To Carmy coming home.
To opening The Bear.
To every version of herself she'd been inside the restaurant, and every single person she'd loved because of it.
Her eyes found Richie again. He was already looking at her. This time, neither of them smiled. They just looked.
Richie rested one shoulder against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked handsome. It had nothing to do with the suit he was wearing. It was the confidence he'd found over the last year, the ease in his posture, the absence of the constant defensiveness he'd carried for so long.
He had caught her staring and he smirked. 'What?' He silently said to her without needed to say a word. His face did all the talking.
She shook her head, smiling to herself. 'Nothing.'
He raised an eyebrow. 'Liar.'
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
Beside her, Sydney leaned over and whispered."What?"
"Hm?"
"You've smiled like... three times during this speech."
"Oh." Angie cleared her throat, forcing her attention back toward Chef Terry as she wrapped up. "I'm just... happy to be here."
"And so I just wanted to say I'm so grateful that you're all here. And, um... thank you."
After dinner, Angie got up and wandered around to find Richie. After a few minutes of searching, she stepped into the empty kitchen where he was leaning against the counter staring at the wall.
"Every second counts." Read the sign he was gazing at.
"Hey, you." She came up next to him and wrapped her arm around his side.
"Hey." He sighed, softly kissing the top of her head. "You look amazing."
"I've been getting showered with compliments all night. It's weird."
"You deserve it."
"Thank you. You look nice too."
"So, what'd you think?"
"I think this is the most incredible place I've ever been to."
"The food?"
"So good. But not just that. The ambiance, the people. I wish I could've had more time here."
"Yeah, me too."
The sound of footsteps came from the hall as four people joined them in the kitchen.
"Oh, sorry, are we interrupting?"
"No, no. I actually wanted to introduce you. This is Jess, Garrett, Rene, and Adam."
"Nice to meet you all."
"Guys, this is Angie."
"You finally let us meet the Angie." Garrett shook her hand.
"He speaks highly of you." Jess told her.
"He speaks highly of you guys. And of this place."
When they saw Carmy turn the corner with Syd and Luca, they put some distance between them. The three of them came to join the group by the counter.
"So this is it, huh?" Carmy sighed.
Everyone nodded as Adam climbed on a ladder began to take the sign down. He pulled it off of the Velcro and handed it to chef Terry as she walked in.
"Oh, thank you. Awfully quiet in here." She looked around at the group and raised up the sign as they all raised their glasses. "Come on. Let's get the fuck out of here."
And later that night at Sydney's apartment, after dancing, eating freezer food, and a few too many shots, it seemed like then and there, just for the night, only one thing mattered. Not bills, not anxiety, not stars. Just them. Just family.
summary: A normal Saturday gets turned upside down when you have to go to the emergency room. And Robby is doing his best to balance being chief attending and a husband... and pretend like he's not absolutely whipped for his girls.
warnings: brief mention of pregnancy and having kids, descriptions of a hand burn, probably inaccurate medical procedures, kingdon (if you squint), Robby being a papa bear.
notes: okay, the girl!twin!dad! Robby truthers have pulled me into their agenda. Robby just deserves to be happy, okay! also, sorry my jack fic wasn't ready, but I offer this as penance 😌
It's a normal Saturday at PTMC. Same old aches and complaints; same accidents and tragedies. Nothing Robby hasn't seen before.
Maybe that sounds cruel of him. To boil down somebody's worst day to a brief twelve hours of his. Dana is always telling him he's too desensitized to things like this.
Maybe he is.
Robby stretches his shoulders, rubbing a knot at the base of his neck as he makes his way through the waiting room. It's still early, the brief period between the nursing home rush and the late afternoon chaos.
Doesn't mean the room isn't crowded. People crammed into chairs, standing along the walls. The tvs play the news, a boring chart about stock prices or the cost of gas. Robby’s not really paying attention. His eyes dart across each patient, making quick assessment of what he can see.
Make sure nobody was dying. Making sure nobody is on the verge of-
Hold on.
Robby freezes, hand pausing against his shoulder as he turns back to the pair of girls in the chairs across the room. Two familiar looking twelve year olds, both sharing a chair, hips pressed together, brows furrowed in annoyance.
“Will you scoot over-”
“I’m as far as I can go-”
“Nuh uh. You're trying to hog-”
“I am not!”
Robby’s heart practically plummets into his gut as he registers he’s not just looking at a familiar pair of twins. He's looking at his twins.
Those are Robby’s girls- his Maddi and Liz.
Still in their pajamas and sporting messy hair, elbowing each other in the oversized chair they were sharing, a phone playing some disney movie between them.
Robby swallows thickly, moving on autopilot, apologizing as he skirts around an elderly man with a walker. The girls look up before he even gets to their chair, ‘dad’ radars going off. Because somehow they always knew. When his car was pulling into the culdesac, when he was the one picking them up from school.
Liz’ face lights up first, her crooked teeth breaking out into a big smile. She's got on her gray hoodie over pink pj's, converse kicking her sister. Maddi gives her a withering look, noticing Robby a fraction of a second later. She gasps in surprise, waving her thick pink sweater sleeve to garner his attention, teal pajama pants tucked into rain boots .
Not that she had to. Robby would know his girls anywhere.
“Dad!”
They scramble out of the chair, limbs clashing, the phone tossed on the floor as Robby hurriedly crouches down to embrace them.
“Hey,” Robby chuckles, an arm around each girl, hands already feeling for any bumps or bruises. He laughs as he looks both of them in the eye, a hand cradling Liz’s cheek, the other brushing along Maddi’s hairline. “What are you two doing here? It's Saturday. Isn't mom making-”
“Pancakes. But the pot holder was-”
“Mom burnt her hand and so we had to get dragged-”
“Liz was trying to grab the turtle for the car-”
“And she was screaming-”
Robby shakes his head, holding his hands up to try and calm them as they jabber over each other.
“Okay, wait. One at a time-”
It was always like this. Two girls bursting at the seams wanting to be heard first, needing their father to understand.
They ramble on.
“Of course then she had a blow out-”
“We offered to help but mom said no.”
“She didn't want to hurt the baby-” Robby makes a face.
“Woah, what about the baby? Where's your mom?” Liz sighs and Maddi rolls her eyes.
“Dad. Weren't you listening?!”
Robby gives Maddi a look, head tilted with the kind of silent parental authority that said “watch your tone.” Liz reaches out to tug Robby’s sleeve, her head turned around.
“There she is, dad.” She points toward the bathrooms, where in fact, you were. Robby feels himself tense up at the sight, diaper bag slung over your shoulder, six month old baby on your hip… and a tight, pained look on your face.
The cloth wrapped snuggly around your hand might explain that.
Robby stands with a grunt, hands finding the girls’ shoulders automatically, guiding them back to the chair.
“Sit here for another minute will you?”
Liz makes a face.
“Dad we've already been here an hour,” Maddi huffs.
“Just sit there. I’m gonna talk with your mom,” he presses a kiss to Liz’s head before marching off in your direction.
You're struggling to get something into the diaper bag, Hazel fussing against your shoulder, her sounds muffled by the stuffed turtle she was chewing on.
“I know, baby girl. Give me a minute and I’ll find your cheerios. I just need-”
“Hey,” Robby calls out your name softly as he reaches to caress your back, being careful not to startle you. You give him a surprised look, your eyes wide with relief.
“Robby- oh,” your head falls against his shoulder as he pulls you close. Hazel shrieks at the sight of him, socked feet kicking against your hip.
“What are you doing here?” Robby asks, the question rougher sounding than he’d like. Not that you notice. You're too busy feeling relieved as he takes Hazel from your arm, the turtle smushed between her little body as he pulls her close.
“I- Robby it was so stupid. We were making pancakes and the girls were getting water everywhere. The sausage was smoking in the oven- I didn't realize the potholder was soaking wet when I grabbed it- and the-”
“No honey,” Robby shakes his head, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “What are you doing here?” Robby nods his head towards the crowded waiting room, the twins watching the two of you carefully from their chair, acting patient now.
“Waiting,” you purse your lips, glancing down at your hand. “The lady at the front desk said it wouldn't be too much longer.”
“You should have called me. I could have-”
“Robby,” you shake your head. “I’m not going to cut the line just cause I’m your wife.”
“Why not?” Robby shrugs, Hazel giggling softly at the movement. “I pull the chief attending card all the time.”
“Yeah. For free chips and guac at the mexican restaurant down the street. Not when there are actual lives on the line,” you gesture towards a man being wheeled in, blood dribbling from his forehead. Robby unconsciously shifts Hazel’s face away from the sight, glancing at the twins again. They're back to their movie, pretending like they weren't listening.
They were. They always were.
Robby sighs, looking you up and down. You hated the emergency room. Actively avoided it any way you could. He could count on one hand the number of times you had visited the ED.
When Maddi sprained her finger playing volleyball at school, the time Liv broke her tooth and split her lip riding a friend's skateboard. When Robby had cut his hand open trying to build the girls a playhouse for Christmas one year.
The most recent time had been during your last pregnancy; unable to keep any fluids or liquid down, you’d been sick as a dog.
Hazel whines in Robby’s arms, looking between you and him with a big pout. You sigh, giving her a smile as you carefully maneuver your bag so you can reach inside.
“I know, baby. I know you're hungry. I’m sorry.”
You were here.
Two girls haphazardly dressed, Hazel in an emergency onesie Robby knew she'd just been changed into; the outfit you had been wearing when Robby kissed you goodbye that morning still cozy around your frame.
And the towel wrapped around your hand.
Robby helps you zip the diaper bag, reaching for your injured hand.
“You said you burned it?” You hesitate for a moment, finally letting him take a peek when Robby gives you a look. You concede, the unnatural warmth of your skin radiating from the thick layers of terry cloth.
Balancing Hazel and her cheerios in his arm, scrub sleeve surely soaked with drool, Robby peels away the towel. You inhale sharply as the cool air hits the burn, your skin an angry red, palm peeling and blistering in places. Robby swallows thickly, looking at the painful wound.
You look away from it first.
“It doesn't hurt that bad anymore. I soaked it for twenty minutes before we came here.”
“How long have you been waiting?” Robby asks. You don’t meet his eye.
“Just a little while.”
“You don't have to lie to me. I know this hurts.” You take another shaky breath, your hand flexing against his touch.
“I can't just cut the line Michael. That's not right-”
“You're not cutting anything. Okay? Let me take care of you.” Robby lets go of your hand gently, thumb brushing your cheek as he cups your face.
You melt into it slightly, glancing over at your other girls. They're watching you expectantly, practically buzzing with anticipation of leaving the waiting room. Robby could see you were ready to cave, wanting to get out of there.
He adds a final nail to the coffin, crouching a bit to meet your eye.
“Please.”
Robby can see it. The resignation crossing your face, the pain of your hand catching up to you.
“Okay,” you nod slowly. “But only if l’m not messing with your work-”
“Of course not,” Robby presses a kiss to your temple. “Come on. You ready Hazel?”
The baby blows a raspberry, squealing happily before chewing on a cheerio she manages to grab. You nod towards the girls, gesturing for them to get up. They share an equally happy sentiment as their sister, quickly following you through the staff entrance.
“Finally!” Maddi sighs, pulling her sister up. “Come on.”
You can feel the eyes on Robby as the five of you enter into the Pitt. The Emergency Department’s big bad chief… a smiley baby girl in his arms and two preteens following like baby ducks.
It was cute, you have to admit. Maybe cuter if your hand wasn't throbbing like you’d thrown it into a pile of glass.
Liv holds on to the sleeve of your sweater nervously, looking around at the bustling nurses and loud monitors. Robby glances back at the three of you, making sure you were still alright. You give him a small smile, observing the worry lines already creasing between his brows. The calculations and treatment plans and patient names he was likely filing through. Slotting your name next to an already crowded roster.
You really had tried to hold off going to the emergency room. It hadn't hurt that bad when it happened, surprised you mostly.
But your palm had gotten redder and hotter as the minutes ticked by, your girls looking at you with worry. Robby was always telling you to call him if something happened. Always leaving in the morning with the same goodbye whispered against your cheek.
“Love you. Call me if you or the girls need anything.”
But it just didn't feel right to skip the line. To get in simply because your husband was the chief attending. Although the sentiment was becoming a little stale as your palm throbs deeper.
As you pass by the nurses station, Maddi lights up, quickly finding her favorite person in the ED.
“Hi Mel!”
The blonde resident pauses, turning from her conversation with Langdon, a bright smile blooming when she sees your girls.
“Hey!”
Maddi runs, in spite of Robby’s warning to be careful, tall frame running into Mel’s open arms.
“Is everything alright? I never see you guys here.”
“Peachy,” you raise your injured hand. Frank cringes behind Mel, whistling as you show him the burn.
“Oof. You soak it?”
“Please, she's married to a doctor. Of course she did,” Robby says, chest puffing proudly. Langdon laughs.
Liz clings to your sweater shyly as Frank looks over at her. Then Hazel. His eyes light up like a kid getting candy.
“Ah, Miss Hazel. I see you've graced us with your glorious presence. My favorite Rovinavitch!” Hazel squeals as Frank tickles her foot, curling into Robby’s chest. Maddi lets out a protesting gasp.
“Hey. I thought I was your favorite!”
“Yeah. Before Mel stole you from me.”
“I did not,” Mel frowns, adjusting her glasses with a little smile. “Can't steal what you never had.”
“That’s alright. We all know who my real favorite is,” Frank glances down at Liz, giving her a quick wink. She blushes furiously, turning further into your side.
You laugh, glancing over at Robby. He just shakes his head, cringing as Hazel squeals again, turtle clutched tightly in her flopping hand.
Dana peeks her head out from behind a curtain, squinting over her glasses.
“Is that my happy Hazel I hear?” The charge nurse comes over, giving your older girls a tight squeeze before grinning at your youngest daughter. “Hi beautiful girl.”
Robby can't even protest before Dana is scooping Hazel into her arms, the six month old wiggling around happily. Always the center of attention.
You have a crowd forming, Trinity and Princess inching closer and cooing at the baby, Dennis giving high fives to your older girls.
Robby sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as his staff fawns over his girls.
“Okay, most of you have patients you need to see.”
“Do we?” Princess asks, eyes wide as she makes faces at Hazel. Robby rolls his eyes.
“Yes. Now, go on and scram.”
“Mom,” Liz looks up at you apologetically.
“Yeah baby?”
“I’m really hungry now.” You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding.
“I know. I’m sure.”
The girls had really been troopers. Helping you clean up the mess breakfast turned out to be, waiting patiently to go to the hospital, keeping the complaints to a minimum. They'd grabbed some granola and fruit before you’d left the house, but they were growing girls. You'd seen them out eat Robby a few times already and it was getting closer to lunch time.
You look over at Robby who takes Hazel back from Dana, brow furrowing as he looks you up and down.
“What's going on? You okay?” You nod, your uninjured hand running over Liz’s short hair.
“The girls need food.”
“Sustenance,” Maddi groans. She then gets a look on her face, turning to her sister. The two lock eyes and huddle, shoulders pressed impossibly close as they whisper. You raise your brow suspiciously, Mel laughing behind her hand as she watches from her computer.
Liz nods and stands beside Maddi as they approach Robby. He frowns.
“Uh oh. What’s the council discussing this time?”
“Can we get Starbucks?” He cocks his head.
“Um. Here?”
“Yeah. You can order it on your phone,” Liz adds quietly.
Robby shares a look with you. You shrug.
“I could use a chai.”
"You're encouraging bad habits," he mutters.
"Robby, you know they're not gonna eat the soggy pb and j's they try to pass off as food in the cafeteria," you whisper back.
Robby sighs, looking between your two girls. You can see the torn expression on his face, the fight between saying no because he still wasn’t thrilled about the girls drinking coffee just yet and also saying yes because they’d already been through a wreck of Saturday-
“Please,” Maddi pouts, hands clasped desperately. Her big brown eyes, mirrors to her fathers’, shine beneath the hospital lights. Robby opens his mouth, the words lost as Liz adds another please.
“Please papa.”
Oh. Your girls were good.
You snicker to yourself as you watch Robby become undone in real time. Any pushback he might’ve had lost at the name. The first name the twins had called him.
‘Papa.’
Before they decided they were too cool and the social norm of ‘dad’ was adopted.
Robby sighs, head lowering in defeat. Dana gives your arm a squeeze as she passes by, smiling fondly.
“Okay, fine. But I don't want you two drinking straight sugar for breakfast. You're getting egg sandwiches too.” Maddi makes a face.
“Egg?”
“That's the deal Mads.” She crosses her arms, a familiar looking pout crossing her face.
“Fine.”
“Hey Boss,” Perlah calls out, the red phone pressed to her chest. “We’ve got an GSW coming in five.”
Robby looks up, nodding. “Uh, okay. Give me just a minute.”
“Sure,” Perlah smiles at Hazel who gives her a friendly wave. Robby fishes his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Liz.
“Here. You can get one drink and a sandwich. One,” he gives the twins a pointed look. They giggle, nudging each other knowingly. “Mel can take you guys to the breakroom. Stay in there until I come to get you.”
“What about Hazel?” Maddi asks, reaching over for Robby’s phone in spite of the way Liz keeps it clutched tightly to her chest.
“She'll stay with me honey,” you smile. “She's got to eat soon.” Robby checks his watch, looking between you and the baby. You had her on a pretty strict schedule; the girl loved her consistency.
Liz frowns, looking down at your hand with sad eyes. “Mom. Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine, baby. Your dad will fix me up just fine.” You smile again, meeting her eye reassuringly.
But with each passing minute your hand starts hurting even more. You know Robby can see it. The forced line of your smile.
It's the same smile he's shared a hundred times over. The brave face of a parent.
“Cap-” Dana starts, giving Robby a look. “GSW is here in two.”
“Right,” Robby hums, the sound gravelly and tired. He had that look on his face, the one you'd seen plenty of times over. When he was being pulled in multiple directions and didn't know which he should choose. “Okay, uh, Mel-”
“I got the girls, Dr. Robby,” she smiles. He nods, gratefully.
“Feel free to get yourself something too, okay.”
“Oh, that's alright-” Mel shakes her head as Maddi tugs her hand, pulling Mel away towards the break room.
“Mel. Starbucks has boba now!” That gets her attention.
“Really?” Liz nods in agreement, fingers already zooming across the screen.
“Well, they're tapioca pearls. Not really boba. But the same thing…”
You feel the tension in your shoulders release slightly as the girls follow Mel into the break room, and you allow yourself to finally let out the whimper you'd been holding.
“Ow,” you hiss under your breath, cringing as you bring your hand closer to your chest.
Robby turns, his hand moving to rub a soft circle on your back.
“Okay mama, let's get you taken care of.”
“Robby-” Dana’s voice cuts in, the red phone in her hand. “Another ambulance on the way. Three minutes out.”
Robby lets out a frustrated sigh, cursing beneath his breath. “Okay. Okay that's fine. I’ll have Dana look over your hand first and then I’ll be right there.”
“Whatever you have to do,” you nod. “Remember, I’m just like any other patient you’d see-”
“You're not just any other patient,” Robby shakes his head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he passes Hazel over to Dana, her arms already ready for the baby. “You're my wife. And you deserve the best, okay. I’ll be right back.”
Robby gives Hazel a little wave goodbye, a pair of gloves seemingly materializing in his hands, face already set with a determined focus. You watch him head off to a gurney being wheeled in, voice steady and authoritative. Dana stands beside you, bouncing the baby slightly.
“He hit the jackpot with the four of you, you know.”
“Sorry,” Robby looks at you apologetically over his glasses, gloved hands gently prodding your burnt palm. It looks somewhat better after being cleaned and sterilized. Although Dana is a master at making even the most frightening cases look appealing.
“No sorry, it's not you,” you look down at your daughter- or rather what you could see of her beneath your nursing cover. Just the sliver of a onesie covered foot kicking rhythmically. “She's being extra aggressive today.”
Robby smiles to himself, leaning over to grab something off the tray laying between you.
“Told you she's teething.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I can't believe it- ow! Hazel,” you hiss. Robby pauses, watching as you try to peek at the baby with one hand. “Gently honey. Mommy already has enough she's got to try and do with one hand.”
“Are you sure you don't want me to wait till you're finished feeding her?”
“It's okay,” you shake your head and smile. “You guys are busy enough. The Robinavitch’s are multitasking pros. I can manage.” Robby chuckles, shaking his head.
“Come on. Indulge me. I think this is the longest I’ve sat all morning.” You smile, your eyes raking over Robby.
He's sure he looks a mess, after two trauma cases and a patient consult. Hair mussed from running his hand through it, scrubs rumbled and splattered with something he couldn’t quite identify.
It still surprises him how much can change in just thirty minutes. Someone's whole life flashing by, blood on his hands and decisions on his head.
You hum, looking down at Hazel.
“Alright Doctor Robinavitch. Whatever you say.” Robby groans slightly, leaning back in his chair.
“Oh, don't call me that.”
“What,” you laugh. “It’s appropriate, no?” You gesture at the patient room, the walls lined with medical posters, curtains still drawn shut to give you privacy.
“Yeah, well not when it's coming from you. That's how we got this little one,” Robby reaches over and gently shakes Hazel’s small foot. She kicks back and you smile, arm adjusting to hold her closer again.
“Well it’s not my fault you have a thing for role play. And I wouldn't trade her for anything.”
“No. Me neither,” Robby chuckles. She'd been a surprise for sure. Almost more jarring than the first time around when you found out you were having twins. But it was hard to imagine life without her now.
Robby shakes his head and hums, picking up the medicated balm and beginning to smear it gently over your palm.
You sigh, eyes closing as you lean your head back against the chair. Robby smiles, watching you.
“Tired?” You nod.
“Yeah," you say slowly. "More frustrated, I think. I wanted to get some things done around the house today. Get the living room picked up at least.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, gathering a long strip of gauze to wrap around your palm. You peek your eyes open, unenthused.
“Robby, the same basket of laundry has been sitting by the couch for a week.”
“So have the girls put it away.”
“It’s your laundry.” He smiles sheepishly, looking down as he continues to wrap your hand.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” you tease. Robby can see a shift cross your face, and you get more serious. “I am going to need your help though. At least, for a couple days.”
“I know,” Robby scratches the scruff of his beard. “I figured I’ll have to rearrange some things.”
“By some things you mean getting home on time, right?” Robby gives you a look.
“Woah, hey. I’ve been getting home at a decent hour.” You throw him a look.
“Ten at night is not a decent hour, Michael.”
Oof. Michael.
Robby shifts in his seat, setting your now wrapped hand on the table between you. You slide it away, closer to you. Robby narrows his eyes.
“I thought you said you weren’t mad.”
“I’m not mad,” you huff. “I just… it’s hard sometimes. And I get it. I know you’re the boss and the hospital needs you. But we need you too, you know.”
“I know.”
“I mean it Michael. Those girls are growing up faster than you’d think. And while yeah, I wouldn’t mind you being home earlier to help around with dishes or watching the baby, I want you around to just be with them.” You smile sadly.
Robby knows he’s been busy. The long hours he’s been putting in, the overtime. The late nights where he’d get home and crash on the couch with barely a hello and goodnight to the girls. Dana always chided him for staying so late. Even when she was doing the same thing-
“You’re turning her into a single mother, Robby.”
“She’s okay. She hasn’t said it’s bothering her.”
“Of course it’s bothering her. Your wife is just a saint and won’t say anything because she hates seeing you worry.”
Robby looks at you now in the patient room, carefully pulling the nursing cover away now that you had both hands back, oddly adjusting your daughter as you check her.
“I think she’s finally asleep,” you murmur. Robby watches you carefully. Not assessing. Not diagnosing. Just watching.
It hits him then, watching you juggle his daughter and your injured hand and your other girls in the break room… just how much you truly kept everything held together.
The glue of the little Robinavitch clan.
And Robby had been playing the part of chief attending much more than he’d been playing father and husband. Leaving you to gather the pieces and try to make something good out of it. Robby scoots his chair closer to you, cupping your cheek as you look at him in surprise.
“I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the sudden movement.
“For what?”
“For not being here like I should. For having you worry about whether you’re bothering me at work when you’re hurting.”
“Robby-” He cuts short whatever you were going to say with a soft kiss, lips pressed gently against yours. You melt slightly into it, cheek pressed against his as he moves to press another against the corner of your mouth. Then the corner of your nose. And-
There’s a knock at the door. You hum, giving Robby a smile.
“I think that’s for you.”
“They can wait.”
“Robby…” you give him a look. He pulls back, thumb brushing against your cheek. “Go. It’s okay.”
Robby sighs, grunting as he pushes off from the chair. He pushes the curtain aside, taking in Whitaker standing nervously at the door.
“Yeah?” Robby asks, brows drawn low with curiosity. “What’s happening?”
“Uh, I was told I had to give this to you,” Whitaker holds out a perspirating plastic cup and a paper bag with something sweet smelling. “I believe the instruction was ‘make sure mom eats. So she feels better faster.’”
Robby laughs, taking the drink and bag, the smell of banana bread wafting towards his face. He also takes the phone Whitaker holds out, the dark phone case splattered with something that smells like whipped cream.
“Thanks for relaying the message huckleberry.”
“Oh sure. Your girls are quite the pair.” Robby smiles.
“They are.”
Whitaker stands awkwardly for a moment more before adding- “Also Dana said we’re in shambles without you.”
"Yeah, okay. Hang in there for a couple more minutes. I'll be back soon."
“Aye aye captain,” Whitaker gives a two finger salute. “Just don’t be too long. Dana might start threatening to recruit your girls.”
The two laugh and Robby closes the glass door gently, balancing the goodies in his hand. Your eyes are wide with appreciation as Robby holds up your food.
“It was for you.”
“Oh thank the Lord,” you grin.
Robby laughs, helping you take off the nursing cover, Hazel gently passed into his arms. You pick at the banana loaf, pushing a generous chunk over to Robby as he sits down again.
“Here.”
“No, I’m okay,” Robby shakes his head as he settles his sleeping girl on his chest. You give him a look.
“Robby…”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“I know you haven't eaten all morning.”
Robby huffs and takes a piece with a mumbled thank you. You give him a bright smile, letting out a pleased hum as you eat. Robby sits, enjoying what he knows is the last bit of quiet before he's thrown back into the throes of the ED.
You're packing up the diaper bag, the twins helping you tuck in extra bandage wraps and medicated ointment into the side pockets. Maddi happily slurps on a caramel lined coffee cup, Liz sipping at something tall and green. Robby watches them fondly as they hover over you, Hazel still sleeping in his arms.
"Mom, I got that."
"Here, I can hold the bag!"
"No I can-"
"Girls," you chuckle. "It's fine. One of you can hold the bag and the other can hold my drink."
Robby's phone pings and he fishes it out of his pocket, frowning as he reads the notification. You don't notice as you take the baby from him, holding her closely.
"You girl's ready to go?"
They nod enthusiastically, giggling softly beneath their breaths. Robby's frown deepens as he looks at them over his glasses.
“Hey… why does it say my card was charged a hundred and thirty dollars?”
content warning: tooth rotting fluff, dad!jack abbot, mentions of children, pregnancy, pregnancy reveal, mention hospital, mentions of food & eating, slice of life, not proofread or edited
word count: 2.5K+ words
pairing: jack abbot x black!reader
summary: you think you’re pregnant due to a dream you have and jack is already a few steps ahead of you.
author’s note: fun fact — my mom’s great aunt knew she was pregnant with me because she had a dream about me as a fish. thanks for reading 🫶🏾
IT came to you first in a gentle thought that soon manifested itself to a dream. A dream where you trudged through a fogged, hazy meadows with golden sanctioned flower that reminded you of sunny side up eggs. A dream where you could hold your breath a bit longer in the water of the pond, where the water was clear enough to see nothing but a small magenta fish swimming toward you before you awoke. Awoke with a new feeling — something that you could feel churning underneath your skin. A warm pool spreading across your abdomen, it growing and expanding as you moved through the familiarity of your home you and Jack had been building for years. Walls made out of stone that was soft around its edges as it learned to become tender overtime. You and Jack carried out your normal morning routine where you two could still burn more hours before your night shift. After your girls had their share of breakfast and enough dewy kisses across their cheeks to last them throughout the school day.
It started with the fullness in your cheeks you noticed as you brushed your teeth. You caught the fullness in your dark skin as you spat out the frothy toothpaste in the sink. The mirror was foggy due to the warm steam coming from the shower as Jack bathed. Your fingers dipped in between the flesh around your cheeks, like you did in your dream when you dipped your fingers in the crystallized bond. You turned to the side for a second, hands resting against your hips as you studied your abdomen. Breakfast slightly stretched the fabric of your shirt (actually one of Jack's old shirts), but that same odd feeling in your heart trudged on. A feeling that you knew. It visited you like an old friend in a dream.
The water suddenly stopped. The empty droplets echoed on the ceramic structure and you heard Jack clear his throat. A gruff sound, followed by a squeaky sniff. He sounded like a rusty car engine, something that almost brought comfort to your heart. Jack reached for the towel draped over the railing, stepping out with the towel around his waist. The droplets rolled down his body, like hot coals that dripped past his belly. He gave you a quick smile, face slightly reddened from the warmth that traced his face, the same red that emphasized his body when he had been to close to the sun from harvesting your peach trees almost all afternoon.
You had been growing your peach trees in your backyard as long as you can remember. Pieces of your love that would grow and that you would harvest once the time was right. A time when the world needed it the most. When you could spread its seeds around, blessing the ground where you two walked; blessing the paths the two of you had crossed into a golden, hallowed threshold.
Jack stood besides you, giving your bottom a quick squeeze, knocking you out of your gaze, "You okay?" The question was soft. The tenderness in his voice something you could easily pick out when he either spoke to you, your girls, the women in his life.
You nodded, finding your reflection again, toothbrush now meaningless in your hand. A haze blurring your brain out as you entered in a trance of the pond water and the foggy bathroom.
"I'm just thinking."
He ran a coarse hand through his damp silver curls, taking his face towel and patting dry his face, "'Bout what?"
Something tugged down in your abdomen as you steadied yourself, pressing your palms against the dewy counter, that still felt somewhat cool at the touch, the morning chill still lingering after the warm steam, "How my mom found out she was pregnant with me. She had a dream about a fish. Just a simple fish swimming around in the pond. She called her doctor to see if she could schedule an appointment. When she got her results back, her dream hadn't been so random. I was the fish in the pond."
Jack watched your eyes. Watched as the seemed to glow if possible. How quick your pupils grew, how quick your brown irises churned so quickly he thought they would begin to produce golden spools. He didn't say anything, his face neutral. Instead, he pressed a hand against your back to provide you some sort of comfort.
You continued on, "I didn't tell you this, but I found out I was pregnant with Bonnie so early on is because I had this dream that felt so real. I had this dream where I was in front of this pond and something urged me just to stick my head under for a second. I could hold my breath for a bit longer, the water seemed so easy to see out of. And then I saw our Bonnie girl for the first time: this little bright pink fish swimming toward me. When I was pregnant for the first time ever with Madison, I told her father that I had this dream about a fish swimming toward me. This little pink one. He laughed at it for a while. Until I showed him the proof later that evening and—shit sorry, I'm rambling."
Jack chuckled softly. A noise that you could easily catch and reel up. He shook his head to himself, reaching for his own toothbrush, "Why a fish? Why not a bird, or a butterfly, or even a rabbit?"
You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you caught his reflection in the mirror that seemed to be less hazy, "I don't know," you began, running a hand through your coils, "I never questioned it. Maybe it's something hereditary." You pressed your palms against the counter, while pictures of the fish came swimming back to your mind all over again , and you couldn't stop the pounding in your heart.
"If you weren't a doctor and I never told you about the fish dreams, how do you think you would've found out I was pregnant if I didn't tell you?" You question, breaking the silence along with the sound of Jack brushing his teeth.
He paused his brushing for a second, giving you a raise of his brow before he spat in the sink, "Well, you start craving one specific food. Always. Like with Bonnie, you craved those shortbread cookies that they no longer carry in stores anymore. You told me with Maddy, you always wanted to eat pudding cups, and with this one, all you want are peaches."
Oh.
You stopped for a moment. Your lips parted, eyes growing wider that they stung a bit from the wave of fresh air.
He wiped his lips with a towel before he turned back to you, as you shook your head in disbelief, "You can't know that."
His hands cupped around your bottom, before he found the sector near your hips. His eyes softened a bit, "Can't know what?"
A little noise came out of your throat like you were gargling water as your eyes blinked rapidly and you stumbled to find your wording. "That I think I'm—I didn't even tell you the fish dream I had last night and somehow you can manage to figure it out and I didn't even say anything to you." You placed your hands on his bare chest. It was still warm, and you could feel the gentle thumping of his heart underneath your palm. You shook your head again, leaning your forehead against chest, "And the funny thing is, I haven't even taken a test yet, so we actually don't know… It could all be in my head for all I know and—"
"—Hey, hey, hey," he pressed on in front of you, keeping his arms steady around you, tucking your coils behind your ears, his tender voice maneuvering you through a wave of emotions threatening to catch you, "Look at me. Okay. We're gonna figure this out, okay? We'll get you tested as soon as possible, but you gotta calm down for a moment, hon. We don't need you stirring yourself into a panic. I don't think it's in your head. I think that—"
He took a moment to steady himself, looking down at your belly, pressing his hand against it, you could've sworn he had to swallow back his own tears, "That fish… that you saw our baby. And that you are pregnant and I feel over a thousand thoughts running through my head regarding what the nursery will look like, what Maddy and Bon, are gonna say— oh our Bonnie! God, she's gonna be so excited to be a big sister!"
You laughed. A break from the clawing emotions you felt; the ones that ran all over your head that brought forth your greatest anxieties and fears. Perhaps that lingering fear of having to start all over again. Lingering fears of even having another child together. A film of clearness lined your eyes as you blinked back the urge to cry, "We're really doing this again?"
"We're really doing this again."
Jack Abbot couldn't keep his eyes off you. From across the emergency department is where his eyes followed you down and traced the figure of your body. If you guys were on cases with each other, he'd follow your lead, command the attention of the room back to you; it was always, "Perhaps we should listen to what Dr. Abbot has to say." He followed you around like a lost lamb, giving thumbs up from across the illuminated rooms, giving you little nods. The fruit of his actions all noted back to why you had to purchase a size up in scrubs, the reason why your cheeks looked a bit fuller, the reason why your body had grown more softer over the past couple months — a small secret growing between the two of you guys. A secret you guys wanted to keep private between you two for just a few moments longer.
You were thankful that you had a moment to catch your breath, and steady it. You sat down near the nurses station, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you leaned back in the chair, closing your eyes just for a second. The rhythm of the hospital moved quickly, fast paced, and that was why you liked it (obviously when you weren't pregnant). But it made you realize the moments of quiet that you always took advantage of. The moments of silence were most important to you. Those moments where you could take a step back out of your body and watch the night life fold around the edges, taking in the breaths of humanity. Realizing how important the job you worked was.
"You alright, honey?" Your sweet, red-haired night shift charge nurse, Lena questioned, rubbing a hand over your shoulder.
You pressed your lips together, giving a nod. A couple of strands of your dark hair tickling your forehead became quickly damp from the film of sweat forming at your forehead. Your skin became dewy causing you to wipe your hands over your face. It prickled your skin like dessert heat pooling through your body.
"I'm okay. 'M just hot. Just give me a second and I'll be good to go back on my feet."
She gave you a nod, but she hesitated as she went back to her area behind the desk.
You took another breath before you got up and headed toward the lounge area. You bee-lined straight toward the refrigerator, grabbing one of your plastic cups of diced peaches. The only thing you could seem to stomach these days that wouldn't have you running to the bathroom in the middle of your shift. You sat there, slowly eating your peaches in an attempt to regain some strength to finish out your shift strong. There were still a couple hours left before you could go home and it was taking all your mental capacity to not call it quits and leave early.
It seemed as if the chaos outside had quieted softly; there was still some prominent chatter and hurried voices that echoed back in, but for the most part, you had found your own pocket of peace.
As you were on your sixth peach cup, the door opened, gently shutting behind the figure. You didn't have to look up to process who it was as the soft clink of metal gave it away, alongside the lingering smell of your vanilla perfume wafting in. The seat across from you screeched on the floor before a moment of silence traced after and bathed in between the crevices of the silence.
"Hey."
There he was.
You looked up after finishing the last peach, the sweetness filling out on your taste bud and around the apples of your cheeks.
"Hi."
Jack stood up from his chair, instead occupying the seat beside you. He sat down, at ease almost. His tenderness leaking through, a softer he approach he'd taken for years while speaking with you. The flesh around his eyes appeared slightly worn like a piece of old cloth, but the skin creased as he smiled at you again, pressing a kiss to your cheek, resting his hand on your belly and the other hand right underneath the bowl of your ribs. A new action that lingered with some familiarity at he had done the same for when you were pregnant with Bonnie. His hand was warm against your scrub top and you could feel the slight twinge of his fingers thumping. You were far from showing as you were still in the later weeks of your first trimester, but Jack could've sworn that your belly was in fact growing at a rapid pace.
"How's peaches doing?" He mused carefully, siding his other hand from your ribs to the other side of your stomach, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your scrubs.
You stacked the empty fruit cups along with the other ones before you placed your own hands on top of his, "They're okay. Like when you asked the past five times."
He hummed lowly, the sound resonating through his chest, as he placed his hand on the small of your back, "Well I was only asking because Lena let me know that you didn't look to great and you went to rest in the break room."
You leaned in closer to him, "I—we're fine, Jack. I promise. We're nothing but peachy."
He nodded, his eyes finding yours. He was about to say something when his eyes saw your stack of plastic peach cups, "How of those have you eaten?"
Heat rushed up to your cheeks, the redness blooming through your dark skin as your let out a loose chuckle, "Probably five. Maybe six."
He laughed. Not in a taunting manner, but it was rhythmic. Something you could follow along and chase the tune to. He pressed another kiss to your cheeks, "How about we get some breakfast after our shift ends. Some proper food in you, yeah? Can't have you eating peaches this entire pregnancy."
You nodded, the tug in your lips growing with almost an overwhelming sweetness, "Yeah… I guess not."
A HANDY CHART FOR THOSE OF YOU WONDERING WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THESE. NOTE THAT THESE ARE ALL THE INFORMAL AND YOU IS THE FORMAL SO LIKE YOU WOULD ALWAYS ADDRESS YOUR SUPERIOR/ OLDER PERSON/ SOCIAL BETTER WITH YOU BUT WITH YOUR BUDS YOU CAN USE THESE.
summary: after six years of avoiding it, you're finally forced to make your way back home. things should feel easier as you make the transition back to something familiar, but it only fills you with dread to think about finishing your years as a med student at the pitt, working under your father.
warnings/tags: yo... holy daddy issues, angst, michael robinavitch is his own warning, platonic/father-daughter relationship, robby is not really being a great dad rn... he is not the girl dad you people think he is
wc: 10.9k
"For a minute the world seemed so simple"
Your first time back in the PTMC since moving home was more anxiety-inducing than it should've been. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you weren't just there as an attending's kid; you were now there as a med student.
You walked in, hair styled out of your face but in a way that made you feel confident, brand-new top worn under your scrubs. You knew better than anyone that this look wouldn't last, but it was something to boost your morale and help ease the soul-crushing anxiety that had been weighing on your chest since you went out to dinner with your father and now- coworkers, over a week ago.
"There she is!" the thick, charming Pittsburgh accent you'd always been comforted by, doing just that as you attempted to maintain confidence. Your perfect posture dropped momentarily as the tension released from your spine, a natural grin of relief finding its way upon your lips.
"Well, hello, Charge Nurse Dana Evans." you mocked a professional greeting, causing Dana's already present smile to brighten as she set down her chart and swung around the nurses' station to greet you.
"Dr. Y/n L/n-" She slung an arm over your shoulder before leaning in to mumble in your ear, "Or are you going back to Robinavitch?"
You tensed slightly, giving her a dramatic grimace, "definitely not- for so many reasons, Dana"
You chuckled as she pulled you into a full hug, "Excited to have you back with us, sweetheart... you're gonna do great."
You squeezed her in return, your breath hitting her collarbone as your face fell into the slope of her shoulder. You wished you could stay there, but you reminded yourself you had people to prove wrong (your father), and that wasn't going to be achieved by staying in Dana Evans's arms for the entirety of your first shift.
"Feel the rush of my blood, I'm seventeen again"
a few moments passed- you greeted Princess and Perlah in casual Tagalog, to which they excitedly greeted back and joked about how you'd been practicing. You caught up with them and told them all about your extensive language studies throughout college and how they inspired you to give Tagalog a try.
The next interaction came from none other than Jack Abbot- a carefree arm tossed around your shoulder, causing you to jump before realizing who it was, "Try not to give your old man a hard time today, okay?"
He said with a teasing smirk, but it landed sourly, leaving a slight burn in your stomach. You didn't react physically, giving an easy, semi-shy smile as you leaned into him.
The warmth and comfort of your found family slipped away as your father approached, chatting with a guy with blonde curly hair and a girl with a dark ponytail. You felt Abbot's arm tighten around your shoulder in a brief reassuring squeeze before it fell back to his side.
Robby finally made eye contact with you, seemingly halting in his conversation long enough for the two trailing behind him to notice. They looked in your direction as well, but before either could say anything, Robby resumed, leading them to the center of the ED and calling out to gather everyone to join them.
Robby waited until the crowd had gathered before clearing his throat.
"Alright. Quick rundown before everybody scatters." The room quieted as you shifted your weight anxiously. Same ED. Same people. Different role. You tried to remind yourself that while you may not have been here, you still have experience, and knowing many of these people will only make the blend easier
Robby launched into his usual briefing, discussing staffing assignments, patient volume, bed shortages, and all the things that made emergency medicine feel like controlled chaos.
You tried focusing on his words, but all you could think about was the fact that every single person standing around you already knew who you were- and not as a doctor, or even just a med student, but as Dr. Robby's kid.
"And one more thing." Your stomach dropped. Robby glanced down at his clipboard.
"We have a new medical student starting with us today." You tried to resist the visceral reaction your nerves were sending to your brain when Robby looked directly at you.
"Most of you already know Y/n." Several people smiled, a few waved, others looked reasonably lost, as you forced a professional smile in return.
"She's rotating with us for emergency medicine." You thought it was going to end there- it probably should've ended there...
"Obviously there's a potential conflict of interest." Your smile vanished as the room got quieter.
"So for everyone's sake, including hers, I'm going to be very clear-" you could see Dana and Abbot tense from where they stood slightly off your father's shoulder.
"She won't be receiving any special treatment." Your jaw tightened. You tried to keep your gaze locked on him, to seem as unbothered as you should be, but you could see Samira wince silently out of the corner of your eye, already knowing this wasn't going to go over well.
"Nobody needs to cut her any slack because she's my daughter." Heat crawled up your neck.
"Matter of fact-" Robby continued, somehow making it worse, "if anything, I'd encourage people to hold her to a higher standard."
A few awkward chuckles sounded. Fuck, you wanted to disappear all over again. Robby didn't notice- or maybe this was one of those times where he did notice and didn't know how to stop.
"She's smart, but she's also stubborn." Jack immediately ran a hand down his face, shifting in his stance.
"And she has a tendency to think she knows more than she does." Dana let out a deep sigh, her hands clasped in front of her as she dropped her head momentarily, shaking it in disappointment.
And suddenly there it was- that familiar burn you'd been carrying since you were fifteen, settled right into your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to taste the metallic flavor of blood, while the room remained quiet for a beat too long.
"She's capable," he continued, almost as if he was trying to convince everyone else of your skills rather than himself.
"Just don't let her talk you into thinking she knows more than she does." A few scattered laughs followed. Your face felt hot as you stared at a spot somewhere behind him. You could feel Dana looking at you, and could feel Abbott looking at Robby. You refused to look at either of them.
The worst part was that none of it sounded particularly cruel if someone didn't know better. To everyone else, it probably sounded like harmless teasing, father-daughter banter. Ya know, the kind of thing families did!
But Dana knew. Jack knew. Frank knew. Samira knew. And judging by the uncomfortable expression on Princess's face, fuck, she probably knew something wasn't sitting right either.
Your jaw tightened- you forced yourself to relax it... then tightened it again.
Robby finally looked up from his clipboard. "Anyway."
A pause. His eyes met yours as he seemingly held his breath for a second before diverting his attention elsewhere to wrap up his speech. "We have a busy shift ahead of us. Questions?"
Nobody spoke as he looked around, eyes not even stopping on you as he surveyed the crowd.
"Good." He clapped his hands once. "Let's get to work."
Conversations resumed as the group immediately began breaking apart, people scattering toward their assignments. You stayed exactly where you were, still, silent, biting the inside of your cheek raw.
Dana appeared at your side almost instantly, her shoulder gently bumping yours. You glanced over as she raised an eyebrow. You offered a smile- a fake one, of course- but a smile nonetheless. The same one you'd been giving adults since you were thirteen years old, that said "please don't make a thing out of this".
Dana's expression softened, an understanding nod bobbing her head, "alright..."
Before she could say anything else, a familiar voice called your name, "Hey, troublemaker."
You looked up just in time for Frank Langdon to throw an arm around your shoulders, the tension in your chest loosening immediately.
"Frank." You rolled your eyes, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from your voice, but the soft smile on your face betrayed your true feelings.
"There she is." He gave your shoulder a squeeze, shaking you around a bit. "Took you long enough!"
You rolled your eyes, "I literally just got here."
"Yeah, six years late." That earned a genuine laugh from you. Samira appeared beside him, smiling warmly, "We've been waiting."
Your expression softened as you escaped Langdon's hold to throw your arms around Mohan's shoulders, burying your face in her neck. "I missed you guys. So much..."
"We know," Frank said cockily, hands behind his head. "The department's morale has been terrible without you."
"You are so full of shit."
"Language." You barked out a laugh, the familiar rhythm of the interaction settling your nerves almost instantly.
Samira glanced between you and the dispersing crowd. "You okay?"
The question was gentle, dangerously so. You immediately looked away. "Yep."
Both of them stared, neither believing you. Frank opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it, deciding against whatever he was about to say. Instead, he hooked a thumb toward the hallway. "Well, lucky for you, you don't have to deal with me today."
"Oh?"
"Robby's got you working with Whitaker and Javadi." Your smile froze, not quite dropping, just wavering slightly in confusion, "Oh."
Frank laughed, "Oh, don't sound so excited."
To be honest, you really weren't. Not anymore, at least. All of your excitement to get to know people vanished the second Robby let everyone know you were related. You were kind of hoping to just follow Langdon or Mohan around for the day and occasionally hop in with someone else when you found your rhythm.
"I just don't know who those people are."
"You will."
"That's usually how meeting people works, Frank."
"Good point." Samira shook her head fondly, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a small, pained smile, "Good luck."
You frowned, "That didn't feel very reassuring..."
"It wasn't really supposed to be." Before you could respond, two figures approached from the opposite side of the nurses' station.
The blonde guy from earlier and a shorter girl wearing a purple zip up, both looking equally as awkward. They both hovered slightly, looking at each other to see who would speak first. They looked helplessly back at you as you raised a brow.
The girl offered her hand first, "Victoria Javadi. I'm also a student doctor- second year here!"
You smiled politely and shook it, "Y/n L/n."
A small smile tugged at her lips, the rest of her starting to relax now that she's seen you smile, "Nice to officially meet you."
The blonde stepped forward next, "Dennis Whitaker. First year resident"
You shook his hand as well. "Nice to meet you."
Whitaker opened his mouth to say something, then halted. He glanced over toward where Robby had disappeared, then back at you, seemingly processing his observations in front of you. "I didn't know Dr. Robby had a daughter."
"Huh... no kidding," you snarked, crossing your arms. Whitaker immediately felt like it was the wrong conversation starter after seeing you close yourself off again.
"Uh... so... are you Jake's sister?" You scoffed and chuckled humorlessly. "No. Love that kid- but no..."
More awkward tension hung in the air for a moment or two before you elaborated.
"Dr. Robby is my biological father, which is unfortunately why I am as fucked as I am." You deliver it with a dryness that Dennis isn't really sure whether or not it's okay to laugh.
A short, awkward silence followed. Whitaker glanced at Javadi- she glanced back at him- neither of them seemed entirely sure how to respond to that.
Finally, Dennis let out a small laugh through his nose, "Well... at least you're self-aware."
"Years of therapy." That got a slightly bigger laugh out of both of them, the tension easing a little, even though they were both still a little unsure of whether you were joking or not.
You exhaled deeply and began heading in the opposite direction "Sooooo... Trauma three?"
"Uh yeah-" Javadi nodded, glancing quickly to the doctor beside her, still a little nervous to interact with you. "Yes. Your dad just put us on the same patient."
"right..."
Your first patient went smoothly, and the day picked up after that.
Patients blurred together, labs were drawn, consults were called. You spent most of your shift trying not to think about your father's introduction and focusing instead on proving that you actually belonged there.
A few hours in, while waiting for updated imaging on one of your patients, you found yourself staring up at the tracking board.
"Man..." the intimidating girl with the dark hair stationed herself next to you with her hands in her pockets, "I knew Dr. Robby was a misogynist, but I didn't think he'd be an asshole to his own daughter."
She tried to joke, staring at your side profile until you slowly turned your gaze to catch her with an unimpressed brow raise and a slightly irritated quirk of your lip
"Yeah... he's... he's something." You didn't give her much, going back to looking up at the patient board. She stood beside you for a moment, then shifted to face you, leaning against the wall.
"Trinity Santos." She extended her hand straight out, looking effortlessly cool with one leg propped on the wall behind her. You couldn't help the tiny amused smirk that peeked out as you shook her hand.
"Y/n."
"So I've heard." You rolled your eyes.
"Yeah, well, apparently you're the first," Santos snorted.
"Honestly, kinda hard not to know about you when half the department practically raised you." That caught you slightly off guard, her casualness and lack of pity or awkward sympathy something you weren't necessarily used to.
"You're the first person who's said that without making me feel weird about it."
"Well I mean- it is weird." You barked out a laugh, and Santos grinned, letting your laughter hang for a brief moment before continuing
"I mean, seriously. I've worked here for two years, and every third person I meet has some story about you."
"Oh God, they do not-" you crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes slightly, the small smile still on your face
"'Y/n used to sit at the nurses' station and do homework.'" You groaned at her first impression of some other staff member
"'Y/n used to sneak extra pudding cups from the patient fridge.'"
"I was eight-"
"'Y/n got suspended for punching a kid who made fun of Dana.'"
"Okay, that one was justified."
Santos pointed at you immediately. "See? That's exactly what Dana said."
You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing for the first time all day. Trinity noticed, and her expression softened slightly.
"Can I be honest?" You hesitated, already preparing to pull up another wall, even though she never really broke through the first one. "Depends."
She hummed, "Fair."
A beat passed.
"That introduction this morning was kind of fucked." Your eyes immediately flicked toward her. You waited for the usual follow-up- some sort of excuse or justification- but the "he means well" never came.
Santos just shrugged. "Maybe that's not my business."
"No..." you said slowly. "I mean, it kinda is now."
She nodded. "Then yeah. It was weird."
You let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Thank you."
Santos frowned, brows furrowing. "For what?"
"For not immediately defending him." That seemed to genuinely surprise her.
"Why would I do that?" You stared at her, she stared back, and suddenly you realized how ridiculous the statement sounded outside the context of your life.
Santos shook her head, "Look, Robby's a good doctor."
You immediately braced yourself, "But being a good doctor doesn't automatically make someone a good parent."
Your eyebrows shot up. The woman beside you shrugged. "What?"
"No, it's just..." you laughed softly. "Most people here don't say stuff like that."
"Yeah? Well, they should." You laughed again- a real, tickled laugh, leaving Santos smiling slightly, pleased with herself. The two of you stood there for a moment, looking up at the patient board.
"Wanna hit 14 with me?" she asked as she started to back away. The small smile still on your lips as you replied, "Sure."
The silence wasn't awkward anymore as the two of you began heading toward the patient. In fact, it was surprisingly comfortable.
"You know," Santos said eventually, "I actually thought you were gonna be terrifying."
You glanced over, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, "Me?"
"Yeah."
"Why?" She deadpanned.
"Because you're Robby's daughter and Langdon talks about you like you're some mythical creature."
You burst out laughing, "Oh my God!"
"'The legendary Y/n, resident golden child, is coming back.'" you rolled your eyes, grinning because that is definitely something he'd say
"Well, for starters i was never a golden child-" Santos cut you off with a raise of her brow
"Not in the eyes of Frank Langdon- 'You guys are gonna love Y/n.'"
You laughed as she continued to imitate him, making her voice a little deeper and raspier and moving her hands around rapidly to mock his excitement
"'Y/n's gonna fix this place!'" That one got you a little bit. You knew that one was likely very true because it's the same thing Frank and Samira would tell you when you were having a hard time in school. They didn't even necessarily mean the Pitt itself, but wherever you ended up, you were bound to make it a better place.
You ran a hand over your face as you shook your head, "Frank is such a loser."
"He really is." You shook your head, still laughing, and for the first time all day, you found yourself genuinely glad you'd come back.
"I am not scared of death, I've got dreams again"
The patient wasn't supposed to be complicated, at least that's what you thought when Trinity dragged you into the room.
The woman was somewhere in her forties, complaining of abdominal pain and nausea- nothing immediately alarming. She was talking, laughing with you, even. Her vitals weren't perfect, but they weren't horrible either. It should've been straightforward.
You and Trinity introduced yourselves, asked your questions, and did your exam as usual. The patient answered easily enough, but something about it made your stomach twist. A gut feeling, a nagging little voice, the same one that had followed you throughout school whenever something didn't fit quite right.
You glanced toward Trinity, "Can you pull up her labs again?"
Trinity raised a brow but complied. You looked through them once, rescanned them again, and then even a third time.
"What?" Trinity asked, and could only give her a frown before mumbling, "I don't know yet."
You obviously hated that answer as much as she did. You wanted something concrete, but more so, you wanted to be wrong. However, the feeling persisted, so you dug deeper. You asked more questions, pulled up older records, looked through previous visits, and slowly the picture started coming together.
It wasn't enough to diagnose anything, but enough to know that something wasn't right. Enough to know she needed more attention than she'd been getting, and enough to make you seek out an attending. Unfortunately, that attending happened to be your father...
You found him halfway through charting. "Dad-"
Robby looked up immediately before you even had time to cringe at yourself, "Dr. Robinavitch."
His expression shifted slightly. "What've you got?"
You launched into your presentation- professional, organized, concise. You explained your findings and concerns, along with your reasoning, never once pausing or shifting your tone to look for reassurance. You didn't try to convince him you were right, you were simply presenting a patient, the way you'd done hundreds of times before and would continue to do
And Robby just stared. He couldn't help it because, for a moment, he forgot to listen. Not completely- he didn't entirely shut you out and ignore the case you were presenting- he still followed and understood what you were saying, but part of his brain got stuck somewhere else.
You sounded different. Not like the angry teenager who used to scream at him across the kitchen. Not like the little girl who followed him around the hospital asking a million questions. Not like the daughter he'd spent years failing to understand.
You sounded like a doctor- not even a med student, but an experienced doctor. Confident. Capable. Comfortable... like you belonged there.
It shouldn't have shocked him. Obviously, he knew you were in medical school, and it was only natural for you to feel comfortable in this environment since you were already pretty familiar.
He knew you'd excelled in school and that you'd worked your ass off to get there... but knowing something and seeing it were two entirely different things.
You wrapped up your presentation of the patient's case, and Robby just blinked, then nodded, "Alright. Let's take another look."
You exhaled, shoulders dropping slightly as the tension released, and followed him back to the room. The concern ended up being justified- she wasn't crashing over dying, but she was significantly sicker than everyone initially believed.
And as you spoke to the patient with the confidence of a seasoned professional and the kindness of a rookie, Robby couldn't stop watching you.
He was completely enamored by how clearly you'd explained things, answered every single question she had with ease, and even made her laugh once despite the circumstances.
And suddenly he wasn't looking at a student anymore- he wasn't even looking at a doctor- he was looking at his daughter.
His daughter.
The little girl who used to sit at Dana's desk, coloring while he finished charts. The little girl who made him drawings for his office. The little girl who begged him to come to softball games and school events and college visits. The little girl he'd spent years disappointing.
And somehow... somehow you still became this. This kind, brilliant, resilient young woman. Everything he'd ever wanted for you. Everything you were able to accomplish without him.
The realization hit so hard it nearly knocked the air from his lungs, because when had this happened? When had you grown up? When had you become someone he admired? When had he stopped being the center of your world?
The answer was pretty obvious...
Years ago, while he was busy working, grieving, making excuses. Busy missing everything revolving around you. All while you were busy with the same things, and he didn't even stop to think how badly you needed him. Robby felt his throat tighten.
You turned slightly, asking Trinity something about the patient's imaging. Your movements were so familiar. Your expression, the way you pushed your hair behind your ear. For one impossible second, he saw both versions of you at once- the child and the doctor- and it nearly brought him to tears.
Holy shit. That's my little girl... and she's incredible!
The patient ended up being transferred upstairs about an hour later, stable, monitored, and taken seriously, which was all anyone could really ask for.
"There is meaning on Earth, I am happy"
You finished documenting your portion of the consult while Trinity wrapped up the last few loose ends. The two of you made your way out into the hallway, exhaustion already beginning to settle into your shoulders.
"See?" Trinity nudged your arm lightly. "You didn't kill anybody on your first day."
"This shift is far from over Dr. Santos" she chuckled, hands holding onto the stethoscope around her neck "Good point."
You both chuckled softly, easy grins remaining on your faces. The doors to the patient's room swung open behind you, and you stepped aside automatically to let staff pass, then froze as you realized it was your father.
Your stomach immediately tightened. Old habits. You waited for a correction, criticism of some sort- there had to be something you'd forgotten- something you'd done wrong.
Robby looked between you and Trinity before settling his gaze on you, keeping it neutral as he held eye contact for a moment, then he cleared his throat.
"Good catch." You blinked. "What?"
"The patient." His voice was casual, matter-of-fact, like it was the most normal thing in the world- and to any other doctor or med student in this place, it would've been normal.
"You picked up on something everybody else missed."
The hallway suddenly felt too warm, "Oh."
Robby nodded once, awkward tension pulling his lips into a straight line, before he took a deep breath, "You did a good job."
Your breath caught in your throat as your heart stopped. No dramatic speech. No hug. No grand gesture. Just five words- that's what nearly did you in.
You did a good job.
The phrase hit you so hard it was almost embarrassing. How your eyes immediately widened and began to water, the pressure and sting in your nose like you were about to burst into tears at any second.
Logically, it shouldn't matter this much. You were twenty-something years old, you'd survived college, most of medical school, board exams, cross-country moves, heartbreak, loss- you didn't need your father's approval...
You didn't.
So why did it feel like somebody had reached into your chest and squeezed your heart?
"Oh." Brilliant response. You swallowed, "Thanks."
Robby nodded again, like he'd completed the task he'd set out to do, then glanced toward Trinity. "You too."
Trinity immediately looked delighted, "Thank you, Dr. Robby."
"Don't let it go to your head."
"Oh, it already has." He shook his head, a small grin on his face as he started walking away. You watched him disappear around the corner as Trinity looked over. You were still staring after him, still trying to process what had just happened.
"You okay?" You blinked, not looking away from where your father had just disappeared. "Yeah."
Your voice came out softer than intended, but then you realized you were staring, and you cleared your throat, turning your attention to Trinity with a small, barely contained smile.
"Yeah. I'm good." Trinity studied you for a moment, then, mercifully, decided not to push.
"Cool." She bumped your shoulder. "C'mon, Doc"
The title made you laugh. You felt a little light-headed, the last hour and a half leaving you feeling lighter than you'd managed all day. As you followed her back toward the nurses' station, you found yourself smiling for no reason at all.
Trinity bumped your shoulder as the two of you approached the nurses' station. You were still trying not to think about what had just happened, but the words sat heavily in your chest.
Javadi looked up from the chart she was working on, her gaze flickering between you and Trinity, then narrowing slightly. "What happened?"
"What? Nothing," you answered immediately and Trinity snorted. "Something happened."
You shot her a look, but she just grinned. Javadi glanced between the two of you again, then her eyes widened.
"Oh my God." there was a pasuse as everyone waited to hear what she'd just figured out, "Did Dr. Robby compliment you??"
Your eyes widened as you visibly tensed, "Oh my God."
Trinity's smug grin only grew wider as she crossed her arms, "He did."
"He did not."
"He absolutely did." Trinity looked delighted as Dennis glanced up from the computer beside them. His attention drifted between the conversation for a moment before he quietly returned to whatever chart he was reviewing.
"He said I made a good catch- that's hardly a compliment."
The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them as you watched Javadi's jaw drop semi-dramatically, a small quirk of her lip making it appear a bit more teasing than serious
"You got a 'good catch'?" You groaned and buried your face in your hands, leaning against the counter. "Please stop."
"A good catch is huge." Whitaker chimed in from his spot behind the desk, eyes unmoving from the screen, but his bottom lip jutted out in acknowledgment as he nodded slightly
You groaned again, slumping further against the counter, face fully leaning on it now, as Trinity looked downright fascinated by your embarassment
Victoria's expression softened slightly. "I get it."
You peeked over your arms at her. "My mom's like that."
You immediately straightened. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah." She leaned back in her chair. "If she compliments me, I remember it for like- six months."
Trinity barked out a laugh and Javadi pointed her gaze at her, "I'm serious!"
"No, I believe you."
"Like, logically, I know she loves me." "Right."
"But hearing approval from someone who taught you everything you know is..." She shrugged. "Different."
Something about that settled the strange feeling in your chest. It was nice to know someone understood. Not completely- nobody could- but enough that you didn't feel ridiculous for caring.
"That's actually a really good way to put it." Javadi smiled softly and shrugged
"Would you look at that," The familiar voice pulled your attention away from the chart in front of you. Samira Mohan stood at the opposite side of the nurses' station, coffee in hand, her warm gaze drifting between you, Javadi, Whitaker, and Santos. "Glad to see you're making friends already, Tweety Bird."
You squeezed your eyes shut, alreayd knowing when you opened them that you "new friends" would be giving you looks
"'Tweety Bird'?" Santos questioned, a teasing grin on her face.
You sighed and peeked at her, "It's a long story"
Samira laughed and came closer to the group, joining you and Trinity in leaning against the station, "Obviously we all call Robby "Robby"- but when Y/n was little, she just didn't get it, so everyone started calling her "Robin" to make her feel included-"
Trinity, Victoria, and Dennis were locked in on the lore of their newest coworker, "which eventually became "Birdie", cuz ya know- Robin the bird, duh. And then one day she came in wearing this bright yellow sweater-"
"It was a dress." you cut in, correcting the minor details in her retelling
"Right, a bright yellow dress- so Jessie started calling her "Tweety", and now it just rotates between those." She finished off, and everyone had some sort of amused expression, while you were trying to bury your embarrassment
"That's... honestly, adorable." Victoria was the only one to speak up
"Okay." Mohan chuckled softly as she threw an arm over your shoulder
"You look significantly less terrified than you did this morning." You immediately groaned. "Oh my God."
"What??"
"You could tell?" Samira raised a brow. "Y/n."
Fair enough. You sighed dramatically. "Okay, yeah. I was a little terrified."
"A little?" You shifted in her hold to bump against her, "Shut up."
The corner of her mouth twitched as she glanced around the station, before tilting her head slightly to speak quieter directly to you, "You surviving?"
You thought about it- about Trinity sort of taking you in, Javadi being someone you could relate to, the "good catch" you had a little bit ago, the fact that you hadn't completely embarrassed yourself yet... "Yeah."
This time the answer came easily. Your bottom lip jutted out as you nodded, "Actually... yeah."
Samira nodded once, her natural smile warming your heart, her expression reading like that was exactly what she'd been hoping to hear.
"Good." And that was it. She took a sip of coffee and immediately pivoted back to work.
"A minute from home but I feel so far from it"
Robby didn't get much time to think during a shift- that's one of the things he liked most about emergency medicine. There was no room for overthinking and hyperfixating, not when patients kept coming and nurses needed orders signed.
Thinking was dangerous and led to regrets if you spent too much time doing so... and Robby had enough of those already.
And yet, his eyes kept finding you- across the department, at the nurses' station, walking down hallways, laughing at something Trinity Santos had said. He told himself it was just his fatherly subconscious making sure you were alright.
Every time he looked, you seemed a little more comfortable- more settled- like you were starting to accept that you belonged here
The realization should've made him happy. Instead, it mostly made his chest hurt. "You look constipated."
Robby didn't bother looking up, "Good afternoon, Jack. Back so soon?"
Abbott slid into the chair beside him. "Seriously. What's wrong with you?"
Robby gave him a look, but said nothing, resuming looking over the chart he was about to hand off to another med student. Jack nodded, "Right."
Robby continued charting. Abbott continued existing- an unfortunately persistent habit, from Robby's perspective
"You know Dana almost threw a stapler at you this morning."
"She threatens that weekly."
"This time she meant it." That finally earned a reluctant snort, causing Abbott's expression to soften slightly. "You know you really embarrassed her."
There it was. Robby's slight smile disappeared completely, and his jaw tightened. "I introduced her."
For a moment, he genuinely seemed to be waiting for more, as if perhaps Robby would hear himself and realize how ridiculous that sounded.
When nothing came, Jack sighed, "You embarrassed her."
"I was trying to be professional." The defense sounded weak and dismissive, even to his own ears.
Abbott's brows shot up. "You told the entire department she thinks she knows everything."
Robby instinctively straightened his posture, walls visibly growing higher in his attempt to defend. "I said she was smart."
"Then immediately followed it up with an insult."
Robby sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, "Jesus Christ."
"I'm serious."
"So am I." Abbott leaned back in his chair, and for a moment neither spoke. Across the department, Y/n was talking with Javadi. Something made her laugh, and the sound carried farther than it should've.
Robby looked away first. Abbott noticed, as he always did and took a deep breath before leaning in and mumbling to his best friend, "I mean, c'mon man."
Robby closed the chart, already regretting where this conversation was headed." When was the last time you even talked to her before she got back?"
"Oh, fuck off." The response came out sharper than intended. Robby immediately sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "...I talk to my goddamn daughter."
"Okay." Jack held up both hands in surrender; the gesture would've been a lot more convincing if his expression hadn't remained completely unchanged. Neither man looked away as the silence stretched between them, long enough to become uncomfortable.
Then Jack leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. "So when was the last time you saw her?"
The question landed harder than the last one. Robby's eyes flicked away instinctively, toward the nurses' station, then back toward the chart in front of him.
"'Cause most college kids come home for Thanksgiving." Robby's jaw flexed.
"Or winter break." His fingers tightened around the edge of his chair.
"Or the three months between school years for the summer." Abbott's voice remained calm and soft, nothing accusatory about it, which made Robby feel so much worse than if Jack had just yelled at him and called him an asshole.
"Why didn't she?" Robby immediately opened his mouth, ready this time with an explanation- An excuse. A defense. He always had one... But it didn't matter, because Abbott cut him off before he could get a word out.
"No, seriously." The teasing was entirely gone now. "Why haven't any of us seen her in six years?"
Robby felt something unpleasant twist in his stomach. Across the department, somebody called for a nurse, a monitor alarm chimed. The hospital kept running and neither acknowledged it in the moment
"The kid's studying her ass off to become a fucking doctor-" Jack shook his head. "And you're telling me she hasn't talked to any of us?"
The emphasis on us wasn't accidental; Robby knew that. "She was practically raised here, Michael."
The use of his first name made him finally look up to see that Abbott was watching him carefully now. Not angry, not even a little bit, just concerned. Which was always harder to stomach.
"You think we don't know her?" A painful silence hung for what felt like forever
"You think we don't know you?" The silence after that felt suffocating. Robby was once again the one to look away first. His hand dragged slowly over his face, the stubble scratched against his palm.
"I went to her graduation." The second the words left his mouth, he knew how weak they sounded. Abbott stared at him like he was waiting for the punchline.
"Robby." His voice was almost disbelieving. "Are you serious right now?"
"Yes," The answer came quicker than intended, immediate and defensive. "I'm being serious."
"That was over two years ago." Robby looked down, and Abbott sat back in his chair. The disappointment on his face somehow hurt worse than the frustration.
"You're telling me you haven't taken the time to check in on her in person?"
"She's in med school." Robby's voice rose slightly, more frustrated now than angry; more embarrassed than frustrated.
"That girl doesn't have any time for me." Abbott blinked slowly, mouth slightly agape as he furrowed his brows, like he'd just heard the dumbest thing imaginable.
"You don't think she'd make time?" The question lingered as neither of them spoke again. It was a bit strained, and Robby could tell Jack was using all his willpower not to bitch him out right then and there. The accusation sat plainly between them. Unavoidable.
"Or are you just assuming that because you wouldn't make time?"
Robby stood so abruptly that his chair rolled backward. "Alright."
He began heading down a decently empty hallway, and obviously, Jack followed, so he kept going,
"I've had enough of you talking to me like I'm some shitty father." Abbott immediately shook his head.
"No." His voice softened. He wasn't backing down, but he could see exactly where this was coming from. "You're not a shitty father, man."
Robby laughed bitterly, "Really?"
"You're not." Jack held his gaze. "But you're not there for her."
The words hit harder than anything else he'd said. It wasn't an insult, just an observation, a very painful one.
"How would you know?" Robby snapped, his voice echoing louder than intended.
"How do you know anything about my kid?" The question hung between them, and for a long moment, Abbott said nothing. Robby watched him inhale slowly and choose his words carefully. Deliberately, like a man trying not to make an injury worse.
"Because your kid spent a good chunk of her childhood hoping somebody would show up for her." Robby physically flinched, face scrunching up
"And because she's an adult now." Jack's voice remained calm, steady.
"A grown-ass adult who reaches out when she's struggling."
Abbot paused and then finished, "Clearly didn't get that from you."
Robby turned away immediately, hands still planted on his hips as he paced a small circle, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw working, trying to find an argument- something- anything.
But all he could think about was the fact that, of course, you still talked to Jack. Why wouldn't you? At some point over the last six years, Abbott had stopped being one of the people who helped raise you and become one of the people who actually knew you.
The realization hurt more than Robby cared to admit.
"The death of my dog, the stretch of my skin"
The high didn't last forever. You knew it wouldn't, but it was nice to ignore the potential of things getting bad again so soon.
The department had settled into a steady rhythm by late afternoon- busy enough that nobody was standing still, quiet enough that you could hear when someone was irritated.
You were reviewing labs when a familiar voice cut across the nurses' station. It wasn't super loud, not at first, but sharp enough to make you look up.
Samira stood at one of the computers, and your father stood across from her, his shoulders rigid, jaw set. You recognized the expression immediately, the one that usually meant somebody was about to have a very bad day.
Samira was speaking, trying to explain something. A patient. You caught bits and pieces. A consult. Delayed response. Change in status.
"No." The word landed hard enough that several people glanced over, including you.
Samira stopped talking, and you felt your own stomach tighten. "Dr. Robby-"
"No." His voice was louder now. Not yelling- not yet- but close. "That is the third time I've asked you the same question."
The entire workstation seemed to go still. Samira blinked once, "You asked-"
"I asked why nobody called me." The interruption came instantly. Ruthless, like he wasn't even listening.
Mohan took a slight breath before responding evenly, "I did call."
"No." Robby stepped forward. "You left a message."
Samira's jaw tightened. "You didn't answer."
"And somehow that translated into 'problem solved'?" The sarcasm dripped from every word. A few nurses exchanged looks, but nobody said anything. Nobody ever said anything. "You know better than that."
Samira opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "The patient was stable at the time."
"Until they weren't." His voice echoed louder than intended, several heads turned this time. The entire nurses' station suddenly became fascinated with their work. "You've been doing this long enough to know better."
Your chest tightened. You'd heard that sentence plenty of times before, word for word. Different context. Same Tone. Same disappointment disguised as anger.
Samira looked down briefly, collecting herself, the way people did when they were trying very hard not to react, then she nodded. "I understand."
"No." Robby laughed humorlessly, the sound making your stomach drop even more. "I don't think you do."
Silence. Heavy. Uncomfortable. Silence. The kind that settles over a room when everyone is pretending not to witness something.
Finally, Samira nodded again, a little stiffer this time. "Understood."
Robby stared at her for another second, then turned, already moving toward his next patient. Already done with the conversation, like he hadn't just ripped somebody apart in front of half the department.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, the tension lingered. But you didn't. You were up and moving before Trinity could even try to stop you.
You passed the nurse's station and heard Dana call out to you, a warning tone flooding her voice as she recognized the look on your face and that you were heading in the direction of your father.
You ignored her but spared Mohan a glance, seeing her stare silently at a computer screen while pretending she wasn't affected. You suddenly wondered how many other people had learned to absorb his anger the same way you had.
Which only made you walk faster toward your unassuming father.
"It's all washin' over me, I'm angry again"
You found him reviewing a chart outside one of the trauma bays, calm and focused, completely unbothered. The sight alone made your blood boil.
"Dr. Robinavitch." Robby looked up immediately. The tone of your voice had done its job, because for half a second, genuine concern flashed across his face.
"What's wrong?" You swallowed hard.
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" His eyes immediately scanned you, checking for panic, urgency, for some sort of sign that something had gone wrong with a patient. You gave him nothing and the silence stretched.
Then he nodded, taking a deep breath, "Yeah."
He handed the chart to a passing resident. "Let's go."
The walk to the call room was painfully quiet, every second giving you another opportunity to reconsider and back down.
Robby turned as soon as the door shut behind you, "What happened?"
The concern was still there, still expecting a medical problem or maybe even a patient gone rogue and something had happened to you, but he definitely wasn't expecting anything like this.
You folded your arms. "Why did you talk to Dr. Mohan like that?"
The concern vanished instantly as an almost eerie silence filled the room. Robby stared at you, and seeing as you were never one to back down, you stared back.
Slowly, his expression hardened. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." he let out a dry, humorless laugh, letting you know this conversation was going to be as productive as any other confrontation with him as ever been
"That's what this is about?" The disbelief in his voice only made you angrier, but you took a deep breath, knowing better at this point than to match his energy- especially not right off the bat.
"Yeah," You nodded. "That's what this is about."
Robby scoffed and looked away, like he couldn't believe he was having this conversation.
"We are in the middle of a shift." Your jaw tightened.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like the problem is me bringing something up instead of what actually happened." Robby laughed, short and humorless, once again. The same exact laugh that had made your stomach drop when he was standing over Samira.
"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." The words landed exactly the way he intended them to- dismissive, belittling, familiar. As if he was aiming to tranquilize you and end the conversation there.
Realistically, it should've ended there. You agreed with him slightly in that, yes, you were at work, and there were other things to focus on, but if he had time to publicly humiliate a doctor, he had time to be scorned for such.
You'd spent the last six years healing and growing out of your old habits, including reacting immediately and outrageously to someone who was clearly trying to get that emotion out of you. Your father was really the only person who did that, but you still managed to learn some patience for that sort of attitude, even while you were away from him
Your pulse quickened, and you took another deep breath to ensure that your voice would come out even and professional. "You absolutely berated Dr. Mohan just now."
"I corrected a resident."
"You humiliated her." Robby knew you were right, as you so often were. You sounded so much like Jack right now... This conversation was the second one he'd had today where he was being told off for being shitty toward people who were looking to him for guidance.
"No." His voice sharpened immediately. "I didn't."
"Half the department was staring at her-"
"Good." The answer came so quickly it stunned you. Robby stepped closer, not aggressively, but with the same intensity he used when teaching, or rather, making a point.
"Maybe next time she'll remember."
Your mouth fell open, the last of your newfound maturity and restraints slipping away, "Oh my God."
"What?" he spit out
"You think that's okay?"
"You think patient care is a joke?" The question hit like a slap. Suddenly, the conversation wasn't about Samira anymore- it was about competence. Or was it responsibility? Or maybe it was just another thing of authority. All things Robby could always weaponize when cornered.
You closed your eyes and took the deepest breath you could imagine, knowing this would be the last one if this conversation didn't end here and now. "No one said that."
"Then stop acting like I screamed at her for fun." You took a step forward, finally starting to match his irritation and intensity, "You really think that's what I'm saying?"
"Honestly?" Robby threw his hands up with a slight shrug. "Yeah."
The word echoed in the tiny room. "You walked in here because you saw thirty seconds of an interaction, and suddenly you're an expert on how I treat my staff."
You laughed, the sound holding no humor whatsoever, finally catching up to your father in mood. "An expert? Seriously?"
"You don't know the patient." Robby shook his head, glaring down at the floor.
"You don't know the context." He glanced up at you as he began stalking toward you, keeping his chin lowered but his gaze holding yours. It was a familiar intimidation tactic that you'd grown immune to
"You don't know what happened." His voice grew sharper with every sentence. And even though you knew better than to let him get to you, suddenly you were sixteen again, standing in a kitchen trying desperately to be heard.
"You cannot just walk in here and talk to me however you like." The volume finally rose, not quite yelling yet, but getting close to it.
"I know you think you got away with that shit when you were younger, but that is absolutely NOT going to fly here." You tried to keep your face neutral, knowing the fire in your eyes was already giving too much away, but you couldn't hold back the flinch as he barked his denial at you.
This wasn't Dr. Robby talking to a medical student. Not an attending talking to a colleague. It was a father talking to a child.
You felt even more infuriated as your vision blurred with anger, humiliated that he still had this effect on you, but even more so that you thought he might've changed. I mean, you had- so what was stopping him from doing the same? What was stopping him from becoming better?
"Wow." You breathed out. Robby crossed his arms with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, spare me."
"No." You shook your head, hands coming up in defense, disbelief racking your heart. "No, that's actually insane."
"What is? That I won't let you-" You cut him off before he could accuse you of something else
"No- That you still do... this." You gestured wildly between the two of you. His brow furrowed. "Do what?"
"That... thing where you decide nobody else could possibly know what they're talking about. That I couldn't possibly understand anything you do or why you do it." Robby rolled his eyes, the motion making your blood pressure spike.
"You think I'm shitting on you for fun?" The words burst out before you could stop them. "You absolutely berated Dr. Mohan just now! And for what? Huh??"
Robby opened his mouth, but you didn't let him. "She was trying to explain herself!"
And just like he carried on before, you followed suit "She was giving you an answer."
Your tone rose, but never your volume. You'd learned that being loud doesn't mean being right very early on. "She was talking to you like a professional, and you talked over her every single chance you got!"
The room fell silent, both of you breathing harder now, neither willing to back down, neither willing to leave. Somewhere beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, beneath the years of resentment, you realized this stopped being about Samira a long time ago.
"You think I'm the bad guy here?" Robby asked incredulously. You stared at him, neither answering nor looking away. He shook his head, "You've been here one day."
He had one hand on his hip, the other lifting a finger to be in your face, a gesture so familiar it made your stomach turn.
"One day." The emphasis hit exactly where he intended.
"You don't know these people.- you don't know how this department works." You felt your jaw tighten. Strike two.
"You. Don't. Know. What. You. Are. Talking. About." There it was, the final blow. He punctuated every single word, spelling it like for you like were stupid.
The silence stretched between you, and something in your expression changed. Robby saw it immediately- the anger disappeared, replaced by something colder. You looked tired
You nodded once, slowly, "Okay..."
The single word caught him off guard. Your arms dropped from where they'd been crossed over your chest, the fight leaving your posture entirely, "Okay."
"Y/n-"
"Nope." You shook your head, not even angry anymore. You took a step backward toward the door. "Forget it."
Robby frowned as he watched you reach for the door handle.
"Have a good shift, Dr. Robby."
The title hit harder than it should have. You pulled the door open, and this time, when you walked away, you didn't look back.
"The things that I lost here, the people I knew, they got me surrounded for a mile or two"
By the time you made it back to the rest of the department, the anger had settled into something heavier. Something sat deep in your chest and followed you around until something else could occupy your mind.
Like anyone else in this place, you threw yourself back into work because that's all you could do, Patient after patient. Chart after chart. Anything to keep your brain occupied.
It worked for the most part- at least until Dana appeared beside you. You didn't notice her appearance, only the coffee she set down next to your workstation. You glanced up, but she didn't look at you. She didn't ask any questions. Didn't make a scene. She simply slid into the empty chair beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds.
"You know-" Dana clicked through a chart, "I almost let Jack follow you."
A humorless huff of air escaped through your nose before you could stop it. "That would've been a disaster."
"That's what I said." The corner of her mouth twitched before you looked back down at the computer. The brief moment of amusement disappeared as quickly as it came. Dana finally glanced over and watched you for a second.
You could tell she was staring, trying to gauge whether or not you were going to react poorly to her checking in on you. You rarely did, but sometimes your father's habits showed through you as well, and you got a bit of an attitude.
"You don't need to hover, ya know." Dana quirked an eyebrow and tilted her chin slightly at that, not that you saw it. "I'm an adult. And not only that, I am also a professional, and I don't need you making sure my life is perfectly in shape any time I have a less-than-pleasant moment."
Her jaw dropped slightly, a bit taken aback by your avoidance and attempt at putting distance between you. She let out an exasperated laugh and shook her head. The audacity this kid has... just like her father... Dana looked back at her screen, the amused quirk of her lip still lingering as she allowed a few moments of silence to pass.
"How bad was it?" The question was gentle, carefully and particularly delivered, knowing exactly how to talk to you after years of trying to get you to trust her... you were too similar to your father in so many ways.
You swallowed, "Not bad enough to be memorable."
Dana hummed, the sound alone telling you she didn't believe that for a second.
You stared at your computer, then glanced over at the patient board. It was too far away to read the names clearly, but you needed to look at something that wouldn't leave her in your line of sight. Eventually you sighed.
"He hasn't changed." The words felt stupid the second they left your mouth. Childish, even, and you knew that. Dana's expression softened immediately, which only made you feel worse
You rubbed at your eyes, frustrated and embarrassed, angry at yourself for caring. "I don't know."
You laughed quietly. "I think that's the part that's bothering me."
Dana stayed silent, letting you find your own words. "I spent so much time away... so much time working on myself..."
You shook your head, the admission coming easier than expected. Your brows furrowed as you bit your cheek. "I worked my ass off."
Dana nodded once, because she knew- everyone knew.
"I learned how to communicate better..." You stared at the floor. "How to let things go, how to stop picking fights-"
Another bitter laugh escaped. "At least most of the time."
That finally earned a small smile from Dana, only for it to disappear a second later as you continued, "And I think..."
You paused, trying to organize the feeling, to make it make sense of it. "I think some stupid part of me thought he'd have done the same thing."
The painfully honest words hung between you. Dana's face fell, knowing exactly where you were coming from. She shrugged, the understanding tone seeping through her voice, "You wanted him to grow, too."
You nodded, the movement was barely noticeable. "Yeah..."
You hated how your voice cracked slightly- even acknowledging it within yourself made your nose sting with emotion. "Yeah."
Dana reached over and squeezed your shoulder, firm and grounding. The same way she had when you were fifteen. The same way she had when you were twenty-one. The same way she always would.
"Sweetheart." The nickname nearly broke you. You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath, unable to meet her eyes, or else it would be the end of your well held compuser.
"You can't do somebody else's growing for them." You lowered your head immediately, jaw clenching. Dana squeezed your shoulder again. "You hear me?"
You nodded. Neither of you said anything for a moment. Across the department, someone laughed, a monitor alarm sounded, a stretcher rolled past. Life kept moving. The emergency department always did.
Her chair squeaked as Dana finally stood. "You done being sad?"
A surprised laugh escaped you. "What?"
"You get five more minutes- go take a lap." Dana pointed at the clock. "Then I need my favorite med student back."
You rolled your eyes, a smile threatening despite yourself. "Favorite?"
"Don't tell Javadi." That earned a real laugh. The first bit of relaxation you've felt since you'd walked out of that call room. Dana smiled, satisfied with herself, then headed back toward the nurses' station, leaving you with your coffee and your thoughts. You let your head fall to rest on your folded arms, giving yourself a moment to actually breathe and shut your brain off.
"You look like shit." You glanced up. Frank stood beside the workstation, hands shoved into the pockets of his scrub jacket. The sight of him alone made something in your chest loosen.
"Wow."
"You do." He pulled the empty chair beside you closer and sat down. "Dana said you disappeared."
You looked back at your coffee. "Dana needs a hobby."
Frank hummed, the sound telling you he wasn't buying it, not even a little. Neither of you spoke for a moment until Frank finally nudged your shoulder.
"Hey." You looked over. "We're happy you're back, y'know."
The words caught you off guard. Frank shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world before adding on, "All of us."
"Yeah." Your voice came out quieter than intended as you lowered your gaze to the paperwork in front of you. Frank's expression softened slightly.
"One bad conversation doesn't change that." You swallowed, looking down at your hands. "Especially with Robby."
"I know." Frank let the silence sit. He'd always been good at that, never rushing you, never forcing you to talk before you were ready. Eventually, he stood with an exhaled breath.
"Good." He reached over and squeezed your shoulder once as he passed behind you. "Now quit sulking."
A tired laugh escaped you despite yourself. "Thanks, Frankie."
"Anytime, kid." And just like that, he was gone again, back to work, leaving you feeling a little less alone than you had five minutes ago.
"The car's in reverse, I'm grippin' the wheel"
Across the ED, Robby watched you, his daughter, laugh at something Langdon had said. The sight should've been reassuring, but he was sure you hadn't been made aware of Langdon's leave of absence a bit ago and how it had put a strain on their relationship for a while. Or maybe you had known- maybe Frank confided in you in the way you seemed to do so with him during dark times. Things were better now, for the most part, but it shouldn't have mattered.
Instead, the sight made Robby's stomach twist. You looked at him that same way once, years ago. Before every conversation, somehow became an argument. Before phone calls became shorter. Before holidays became excuses. Before six years passed without him realizing just how much more of her life he'd missed.
Jack had been standing beside him for several minutes before either of them spoke, neither particularly eager to revisit the conversation from earlier. Unfortunately for Robby, it was impossible not to. Every time he caught sight of you across the department, he remembered the look on your face when you walked out of that call room.
"You know," Abbott finally spoke, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you disappear around a corner with Javadi and Santos, "for a doctor who's kinda known for being so observant, you are terrible at reading your own kid."
Robby scoffed, but there wasn't much conviction behind it.
"I know." The admission came quieter than intended. Jack glanced over and Robby was already looking away, back toward the floor.
The truth was, he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do now. An apology felt inadequate- embarrassingly so. Like trying to patch a bullet hole with a bandaid.
Years didn't disappear because you said sorry. Trust didn't magically come back because you finally realized you'd screwed up. And Robby had spent most of the afternoon realizing exactly how badly he'd screwed up.
Robby dropped his head into his hands, staying there for a moment with his eyes closed. He took a deep breath before lifting his gaze back up to take in the chaos of the ED. Then released it, shaking his head with a huff.
"God..." His fingers rubbed across his forehead. "She's just like her mother."
Abbott immediately let out a noise somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "Oh, bullshit."
Robby glanced over, and Jack was already grinning. He pointed toward where you'd disappeared. "She may look exactly like her mom, but that is your daughter, Michael."
The grin widened. "To a fucking T, man."
Despite himself, Robby laughed, short and tired, moderately defeated. He hated how right Abbot was, and that realization didn't actually solve anything.
"I'm back between villages and everything's still"
By the end of the shift, you were hurting in most ways possible- your feet hurt, your back hurt, your brain hurt, and more dramatically, your heart hurt.
You'd spent the better part of twelve hours running around the emergency department, trying to learn names, remember protocols, impress attendings, and avoid thinking too hard about the argument that had nearly derailed your entire day. And for the most part, you'd succeeded.
The department had begun its nightly transition- day shift filtering out, patients still arriving, monitors still chiming. You stood at one of the workstations, finishing your final note on your chart, as the cursor blinked lazily on the screen. You stared at it for several seconds before finally signing off.
A strange mix of relief and disappointment settled in your chest- your first shift was over. You leaned back in your chair and glanced around the department. Dana was arguing with Jack about something (probably the fact that he's been here way longer than any mentally stable person would be). Princess was laughing with Mateo. Perlah was giving a report. Langdon was halfway through telling Mel some sort of story as they'd begun to head toward the lockers.
Everything looked normal, like today hadn't changed anything, and maybe it hadn't.
A familiar figure caught your attention across the department- your father, reviewing a chart, the same way he had been all day. For a moment, your eyes lingered, and as if sensing it, Robby looked up.
The distance between you wasn't very far, twenty feet, maybe less, but after six years and your interactions throughout the day, it might as well have been an ocean.
Neither of you smiled nor waved, you didn't move a muscle. The memory of the call room still sat heavily between you, and eventually, Robby looked away first, returning his attention to the chart in front of him. You swallowed, then looked away too.
The shift was over. But the conversation wasn't, and you knew this was about to be a lot harder than any other rotation you'd been on up until this point.
You gathered your things quietly, dropping your stethoscope into your bag and slipping on your jacket, trying not to dwell on the ache in your chest.
"See you tomorrow, hon." You looked up. Dana stood beside you, already smiling. It's like she could read your mind (at this point, you wouldn't be surprised if she actually could) and tell you were irrationally contemplating moving back.
Tomorrow.
You'd be back tomorrow. Back with Dana. Back with Frank. Back with Samira. Back with Santos. Back with Javadi. Back with patients. All of it... Including him.
The realization was simultaneously comforting and terrifying. A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah. See you tomorrow."
You slung your bag over your shoulder, then you headed toward the exit. The automatic doors slid open, and the cool evening air met your skin immediately. The doors slid shut behind you, and somewhere inside the emergency department, life carried on.
The hospital room was quiet in a strange, suspended way. Machines humming softly, the city muted outside the window. Angie laid propped up against soft white pillows, exhausted in a way she'd never felt before. Her body ached, her head felt foggy, and yet her chest was so full she thought it might crack open.
Sophia slept against her, impossibly small, swaddled tight and warm. Her face was pink and scrunched, mouth twitching like she was dreaming of something important.
Angie couldn't stop staring.
Mikey hovered nearby, useless in a way only love could make someone. He'd washed his hands three times already, paced the room twice, sat down and stood back up like the chair had personally offended him. Now he stood beside the bed, eyes locked on their daughter like she might disappear if he blinked too long.
"She real?" he asked quietly.
Angie smiled softly. "She's been real for nine months, babe."
"Yeah, but..." He hesitated, voice cracking just a little. "She was inside you. Now she's... here." He held out his finger, hesitating before brushing it against Sophia's tiny hand. Her fingers curled around his, gripping him with surprising strength. "Oh my God," he whispered. "She grabbed me."
Angie let out an exhausted laugh. "Congratulations. You're trapped forever."
He looked at her then, really looked. Her locs were messy, face puffy, eyes red from crying and had bags under them from the lack of sleep. And she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"You okay?" he asked, suddenly serious, his hand coming up to softly stroke her cheek. "You scared the shit outta me."
"I know," she said gently. "I'm okay. We're okay."
He nodded, but his jaw tightened anyway. "I couldn't do anything. I just stood there. They kept sayin' push and breathe and I'm thinkin', what if I can't protect you from this?"
Angie reached for his wrist, attempting to comfort him. "You were there. That's all I needed."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, careful not to bump Sophia. "I swear to God," he murmured, "I'm gonna do right by her. By both of you."
"I know you will." Angie said, without hesitation as she kissed his cheek. "I know you will."
🤍
"That was such a crazy fucking shift." Angie groaned and rubbed her head as she sat on the office desk.
Richie set down a cup of water next to her and kissed her cheek. "You were a machine out there."
"I'm too old and tired to be a machine."
"Hush. You killed that shit."
She chuckled softly. "Thanks. So did you."
"Where's Soph?"
"Spending the night at her classmate's house."
"DD still not talking to you?"
Angie shook her head before standing up and heading over to the lockers. "Not since opening night."
"You know how she gets." He opened up his locker and took his things out. "She'll come around." He looked at his phone and furrowed his brows. "What the fuck?"
"What?"
"Sugar's in labor."
Angie quickly reached for her phone and saw the multiple missed calls and texts. "Holy shit. She called me like ten fucking times." She dialed Natalie's number, eventually getting sent to voicemail. "Fuck. Pete's not here. She's all alone, Richie. We gotta go to the hospital."
"How do you know which one she's at?"
"I have everyone's location."
"You do?"
"Uh huh. Come on."
🤍
Angie and Richie walked through the elevator doors into the hallway, breathless from the adrenaline, still smelling faintly like garlic, grease, and the long shift they'd just survived. The fluorescent lights were too bright compared to the night outside, making everything feel surreal.
Standing in the hall outside of Natalie's room was Neil, Ted, and the face of a woman Angie hadn't seen in a while.
"DD."
The older woman looked up at her daughter in law and hesitantly went to hug her. "Angelina." She embraced her. "Hi, honey."
Angie hugged her back for a moment before pulling away. "How's Nat?"
"Oh, she's wonderful. She was so strong."
She nodded. "Of course she was."
There was months of unspoken words between them. Before Donna could break the silence first, the two brothers approached.
"Do you think Nat's okay in there?" Neil asked. "I heard her yell."
"Yeah, pushing a human outta your vagina will make that happen, honey."
"I'm glad DD came." Ted chimed in. "She would've been all alone."
"I dunno how she went into labor without any of us knowing." Richie shrugged. "She was in the office the whole time.
"Nuh uh. She went to get c folds."
"What?"
"She went to get-"
"I heard what you said." Angie replied to him. "Why the hell would she go to get c folds?"
"We were out."
"So you let her go alone? Nine months pregnant?"
The brothers paused and looked at each other.
"Maybe that wasn't a good idea."
"Yeah, it was a terrible fucking idea."
The door clicked as Pete walked out with a big yet tired grin on his face. "Hey, guys." He said softly.
"Pete!" Angie hugged him. "You made it back."
"Yeah, just in time." He ran his hand down his face. "You wanna come in?"
"Yeah." She looked back at Richie.
"I'll go later. Go ahead."
She nodded before stepping inside the room. She gently shut the door behind her as she warmly smiled at her friend.
"You're here." Nat said with a tired smile.
"Of course I'm here." She sat on the side of the bed. "How are you?"
"I'm okay. What time is it?"
"A little after midnight."
"You must be exhausted." She whimpered softly as she scooted over. "Come lie down."
"Careful, Sug. I'm fine."
"I already moved over."
Angie rolled her eyes and gently laid her head on the pillow, turning her body to face Natalie. "Happy?"
"Mhm." She nodded.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here, Nat."
"It's okay." Her eyes shut for a moment. "I did it."
Angie chuckled softly and brushed some of Nat's sweaty hair from her face. "You did. I'm so proud of you."
The blonde opened her eyes. "Do you wanna hold her?"
Angie quickly stood up and headed to the sink to wash her hands. "I was waiting for you to ask."
Natalie chuckled and turned to pick up the baby from the clear bassinet. She was so small swaddled in the hospital blanket. She had a small tuft of blonde hair sticking out from her beanie.
Angie dried her hands and sat on the bed again, carefully taking the infant into her arms. "Hey." She whispered. "Look at you. You look just like your mama. Pretty girl."
"I'm obsessed with her."
"How couldn't you be? What's her name?"
Nat looked down at her fidgeting fingers with hesitation. "Well..."
"What? You named her, right?"
"No, yeah, we named her. It's just...."
"Just what?" Her gaze stayed fixed on the baby girl in her arms.
"Sophie. We named her Sophie."
Angie looked up at her friend and chuckled. "No you didn't."
"We did...."
"Like...as a middle name?"
"No."
"Well, what do you mean? 'Cause I have a Sophia. Sophie as is my Sophia?"
"Now I feel stupid."
"No, no, no. I'm just tryna understand. Her name is Sophie?"
"You hate it."
"I don't. I love it. That's kinda why I picked it."
"Well, I always loved that name, but when you had Sophia, I didn't really think about it anymore because I never thought I'd have a baby. But when I found out she was a girl, I tried really hard to love another name."
"But you couldn't."
"I couldn't. And right after I gave birth, they asked me what the name was, and it just came out."
Angie sighed and leaned her head on the blonde's shoulder. "It's a beautiful name."
"You're not mad?"
"No. I think I'm just gonna have to get used to it."
"Sophia's gonna like it."
"Sophia's gonna love it."
"Thank you for coming."
"You kidding?" She looked down at the infant. "I wouldn't miss this for anything."
A few short moments later, there was a soft knock at the door. Neil peeked his head in and smiled.
"Can we see the baby?"
Nat gave him a gentle nod. "Of course, sweetie."
Not one second later, he opened the door wide as Ted and Richie followed him.
Angie gave the baby back to her mother and headed towards the door. "Please make sure they wash their hands." She whispered to Richie. "With soap."
"On it." He patted her shoulder as she walked out, shutting the door behind her.
Donna looked up from her phone and walked closer to her daughter in law. "Angelina."
"Where's Pete?"
"Oh, he needed coffee. And ice chips for Sugar."
"Yeah, they got the good ice here."
The older woman gestured to the plastic chairs at the end of the hall. "Can we talk?"
Angie scoffed. "Now you wanna talk?"
"Please, honey. Just let me explain."
She hesitated for a few moments before nodding and sitting beside her mother in law. "Okay."
"I know I didn't answer the phone. I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like I was ignoring you."
"DD, you've been my mother for twenty years. You were my mother before Mikey and I were together, and you stayed my mother after he died. You are...a lot. But I love you."
"I love you too."
"When you stopped talking to me, it just felt like someone else in my life was leaving."
"Honey, I'm sorry." She grabbed the younger woman's hands. "I didn't go to opening night or talk to you because I was embarrassed."
A look of confusion fell upon Angie's face. "Embarrassed? About what?"
"Me." She chuckled softly. "I'm a mess. And you guys had made something good. I didn't wanna fuck that up."
Angie squeezed DD's hands. "DD, we would've wanted you there anyway. I wanted you there."
A slow tear fell down her cheek. "You did?”
"Yeah." She nodded. "I don't care how difficult things may be between us. I will always want you in my life."
The women hugged and softly chuckled as they wiped their eyes.
