HALF A HEART
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Summary: Months after heartbreak, you find out some unexpected news and the punches keep coming.
Pairings: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader
Warnings: Angst, I think I mentioned vomit, self-loathing, pregnancy, I believe that is all, let me know if there's anything else
Word Count: 2,344
Notes: I wrote this within two hours and the words flew out of me, not proofread besides myself looking it over twice but that's not saying much. Enjoy, please let me know what you think and there will be a new chapter coming in a few days. Most likely it will be a more in depth flashback of the reader and Robby meeting. :) + I know almost nothing about in-depth medical stuff so...
There were two times in your life when you could really say that you regretted something. The first time was when you decided not to wear a helmet one day on your friend's moped and gave yourself a scar on your leg and a concussion. The other time was ever getting involved with a tall man with brown eyes and a sweet smile.
You could hear everything and nothing all at once. How was that even possible? You were sure you were never going to be able to find the answer but it didn't really matter. Not when you could also hear every 'whoosh' and 'swish' sound coming from inside your chest. Was that your heart? It had to be, though you thought it was shattered months ago. Pulled out of your body delicately just to be thrown down and stomped on. Shattered into millions of little pieces. So you weren't sure what was happening in your chest now but that also didn't matter.
"Uh…sorry ma'am..is everything okay?", you finally heard, though you were sure it wasn't the first time you were asked.
"I went over the results again, like you asked". She handed over a piece of paper. "Thirteen weeks".
No, none of that mattered when you were currently sitting sitting in a room that smelled like nothing and tasted like metal. Could be your last few moments. It would be extremely fitting.
You lifted your head and nodded, putting on the realest fake smiles you could muster and finally made yourself stop moving your head like a bobblehead.
"I'm fine, I was just…", the ringing in your ears starts. "…I was just, uh…", you cleared your throat. "…caught off-guard". Smooth. Not a lie so you could still deny anyone, especially the nice blonde staring at you, who thought otherwise.
You had come in to the emergency room that morning because you were experiencing extreme nausea and couldn't hold any food down for a week and before that you couldn't eat anything that wasn't plain.
You thought maybe you had the flu. You couldn't help but think that you wish it as just the flu. You didn't even want to be there, you hated hospitals, how they smelled and how you always ended up feeling sad when you were in one.
"Right, of course", she said, trying to fill in the tension in the room. Womb. Your womb.
You couldn't believe it. You were pregnant. You let out a shaky laugh, maybe you looked like you were on the verge of a breakdown, if the look the nurse gave you was anything to go on.
"I'm sorry…this…this", you dropped your shoulders, bracing yourself on your knees as you shook your head. "I never expected to be pregnant, let alone alone…", you confided in the stranger.
The stranger. You were always getting into trouble with them. Well just one other stranger. Damn brown eyes. You knew she was trying her best to console you but it wasn't her fault so she shouldn't be the one to carry the burden. Then you felt guilt. You didn't think your baby was a burden.
"Shit", you chuckled softly to yourself, you were already in too deep. You loved the little thing, knowing about it for all of ten minutes. "I'm not even with the father", you admitted as you looked up at her, her eyes were filled with sorrow and pity. Oh, how you hated that.
You couldn't hold it against her. You glanced down at her badge. Mel. She was a sweet person, from the small interaction that you've had with her this morning, she was gentle when taking your blood, cracked a joke to relax you and make you feel like the room wasn't spinning.
You didn't even want to come to this hospital, you only did it because it was the shortest route from your house and you didn't think you'd be able to drive any further.
The nippy Philadelphia weather was not your friend. Hadn't been in the last four years that you've lived here. You had moved here after your Aunt had died, leaving you a small storefront in the city where she had once had a beauty salon. Helen had always been the closest person to you, closer than your own parents.
You would spend nights after school talking to her about your day, even if you were half the country away. It wasn't super surprising that she had left the store to you but the apartment you had spent a few summers at was unexpected. Who would say no to a free place to stay and a new start? Who could say no?
Not realizing that the minutes were ticking by, you heard a knock at the door before someone stepped in. You weren't listening to what was going on, you knew it didn't concern you so you just stood up and grabbed your coat, stopping yourself form leaving as the man was blocking the door briefly.
"Okay, thanks", Mel spoke and you smiled at her.
"Thanks again, I'll make sure to get established care and follow up with an OB", you nodded. You could still see the pity, feel the pity but turned your head to breathe out before stepping out of the room.
You stepped out of the room and were immediately met with the loud and chaotic environment of the Pitt. You felt a small brush behind you, suddenly realizing you were in the middle of two nurses who seemed like they were too polite to tell you to move. You took the initiative and stepped back, against a now closed door.
You watched it for a few moments, in stunned silence. In the short time that you did, you watched a doctor save a life, bringing someone back from the brink.
Maybe it was your emotions, maybe it was the fact that you felt like your world was falling down around you but you started to cry. Small tears filling up your waterline, trying to stop yourself from blinking.
Knowing that if you did, it would be the worst thing. You didn't consider yourself an ugly crier but you weren't a pretty and delicate on either. And you definitely weren't going to start in a room full of dying people.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?", you heard someone speak and at first you didn't think they were talking to you so you stepped away, never wanting to be in the way.
You looked up and a blonde was staring at you. "Me?", you found yourself asking. "I'm…fine", you answered and you didn't believe it and she didn't believe it. But she stared at you for a few seconds too long and nodded. "You've been helped?", she asked. You nodded. "I…Dr. Mel helped me, I was just leaving".
She smiled and grabbed your shoulder, glancing down at the folder in your arms before looking back at you. She reminded you so much of your Aunt that it made you feel as though you hadn't lost her. Only for a moment.
"Thirteen weeks", you told her and you don't know why you told her. Maybe it felt like you were talking to Helen again and you could pretend for a few moments.
"Congrats", the blonde smiled and maybe she was happier than you were. The guilt you felt creeping back in.
You couldn't believe you were three months pregnant. You couldn't believe that you didn't know you were pregnant. You had always had irregular periods so that was never going to be a strong indicator and you had been laser focused on getting your business license and everything that came with it that you chalked up to stress sickness until finally coming in.
More guilt. More…no that was just nausea. No maybe you actually had to throw up. You hadn't eaten anything, of course.
Before you could speak, you were being handed a small blue bag and lead over to a nearby chair. "Just breathe, honey", she said as she rubbed your back, having you facing away from everything. "Breathe", she repeated.
You closed your eyes, focusing in on your breathing. Three months. Shit. If you were going to let yourself stop and do the math you knew exactly what you were doing three months ago, or at least who you were doing, or seeing. Maybe that was a strong word. But whatever it was, it wasn't anything now and it didn't matter. Whatever you were going to do didn't concern him anyway. Not that he would care. Dumb brown eyes.
"Is she alright, Dana?", you heard the voice and your whole body went cold, as if you were just found in the dark of the night with your hand in the cookie jar. The voice of the man who was the reason you were in the chair, hunched over.
The voice of the man who was the very reason you were heartbroken. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. And you liked "Robby" but once you called him Michael and he had you screaming it for the rest of the evening.
"Poor thing is having a rough day", you heard the blonde, Dana, answer. You were not going to sit up, you were not going to see him or let him see you, maybe if you could actually vomit you would have a good excuse for not lifting your head and he would go away and you would hope the speckled floor would open up and swallow you whole.
But this wasn't your lucky day and thirteen wasn't your lucky number and Tuesdays sucked.
Suddenly he was saying your name.
As if he were allowed to say it and why did it still sound so sweet and the best thing you had ever heard, the second best sound Robby had made because of you anyway.
You lifted your heard, the nausea in the back of your throat still as you looked up at him.
"Hello Michael", you whispered and you didn't miss the small upturn of his lip that he pushed back down into a straight line. You could see the woman beside you and how quickly her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, removing her hand easily, feeling as though she was interrupting someone and quickly turning to make herself busy.
Without the much needed chaperon, your eyes looked back towards the man standing above you.
Very much aware that he was still wearing the cologne you had given him. You couldn't stop yourself from inhaling slightly. You shot up and thank goodness for the height difference and the quick reflexes of the two of you or you would have caused yourself or your not-ex an injury. Your folder dropped, unnoticed.
"Woah", Robby spoke as he put both hands on your shoulders, steadying you. You looked at him again, neither of you speaking for a moment or two. It had been three months since you had seen him, well you did spot him at a grocery store a month ago but abandoned your cart and decided on driving an extra ten minutes to another one.
He still looked so good, smelled so good and you weren't talking about the cologne. He always smelled so naturally safe, warm and like you could tell him anything.
Maybe that was what got you into trouble in the first place. How easy it all was and how you ignored every warning to keep it casual. Especially his warning.
It had started easy enough, you met in the most twenty-tens romantic comedy way possible. You had been in a local diner by your house, always a morning person, and it was becoming a favorite. You were just about to leave, there was no open tables, when you saw a handsome stranger in a hoodie looking like he was going to fall asleep in his pancakes. You worked up the courage to ask to join him and he joked later on that your smile was more effective in waking him up than a few cups of coffee. You gave him shit for the cheesy line but you let the words scribble onto your heart.
After that, you went on a few dates, unaware that they weren't dates for Robby. He just wanted to make you feel special before you went back to his place. You didn't realize, after months that it was always just sex to him, a release for his chaotic life. But once you had the talk and he told you he wanted nothing more than a casual hook up, you told him you were okay with that. That you could do that. That it didn't matter and you were okay with the arrangement.
But you weren't and when you finally worked up the courage to tell Robby how you really felt he wasted no time in ghosting you. You stopped getting 'good morning' and 'good night' texts, you didn't get a random flower arrangement at your workplace and you stopped trying soon after. So, if you really thought about it, you were the reason, not Robby. You should have stopped the arrangement when he let you know his intentions to begin with. You shouldn't have played with fire.
"What are you doing here?", he asked, as if you were bothering him. As if you were stalking him. You must have looked hurt or offended because he quickly corrected his mistake. Corrected his wording. "Are you alright?", he tried again. You sighed, not answering.
He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything. Not your time especially. He glanced down at the floor and moved to pick up the folder, not missing the obvious mother and newborn plastered to the front of it.
"Congratulations", he said, no emotion in his voice. "Yeah", you answered and maybe it hurt you for him to atomically assume it wasn't his. He was the only person you had been with since moving to this godforsaken city. But why would he care? So you turned on your heel and made your exit, telling yourself to avoid this hospital and that man.