Ever since that scene where Robby calmly checks a patient's leg after the anaesthetic kicks in and asks, "Can you feel that?" only to reply with a simple, "Good," I've been completely normal about it... obviously. So naturally, I had to imagine what would happen if Reader ended up as his patient instead and turns out one medically appropriate word is more than enough to short-circuit an entire brain.
Warnings: Fluff, mild flirting, reader gets stitches, minor hand injury/laceration, needles, medical procedures, hospitals, light teasing, awkward reader, oblivious Robby, one suggestive misunderstanding, second-hand embarrassment
This is a work of fanfiction based on The Pitt. I do not own The Pitt or any related characters or settings; all original material belongs to their respective creators.
The emergency department was, ironically, the last place you wanted to spend your Friday afternoon.
You worked two floors up in imaging, meaning you knew every face that hurried past your curtained bay. Nurses you'd shared coffee with waved as they passed. Abbott poked his head in just long enough to ask, "How'd you manage that?" before laughing at your sheepish explanation of losing a fight with a broken mug while doing dishes.
"I won," you defended.
Abbott looked at the neat towel wrapped around your palm, now stained through with blood.
"...Sure you did."
You stuck your tongue out at him.
He chuckled before another patient pulled him away, leaving you alone once more with your increasingly embarrassing injury.
It wasn't even bad. Just deep.
Deep enough that Occupational Health had taken one look at your hand and immediately marched you downstairs for stitches instead of letting you slap a bandage on it and continue your day.
Lucky you.
You sighed, leaning back against the bed.
The curtain suddenly swept open.
"Hey."
You looked up.
"...Oh."
Of course.
Of course it was Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch.
He was already pulling gloves on, chart tucked beneath one arm, his reading glasses sitting low on his nose as he scanned through the notes.
"Laceration to the left palm," he muttered. "Broken ceramic?"
"...Maybe."
His eyes flicked up.
"Maybe?"
"It definitely attacked me first."
One corner of his mouth twitched.
"So we're blaming the mug."
"I think that's only fair."
"Hm."
That tiny almost-smile lingered for half a second before he stepped closer.
"Let's have a look."
You carefully unwrapped the towel. Robby's expression shifted instantly. The joking disappeared. Doctor mode.
He gently took your wrist, turning your hand beneath the examination light.
"Huh."
"What does 'huh' mean?"
"It means you definitely need stitches."
"I figured."
"You figured correctly."
His thumb rested lightly against the back of your hand while he inspected the cut, his touch steady enough that you almost forgot your heart was trying to punch its way out of your chest.
"You get dizzy around needles?"
"No."
"Blood?"
"I work in a hospital."
"Good answer."
There it was again.
Good.
Your brain, traitorous thing that it was, filed the word away immediately.
Robby released your hand long enough to gather everything he needed.
"I'll numb it first."
You nodded.
The injection stung far less than you'd expected, mostly because Robby distracted you by asking about your department upstairs, whether the new scanner had finally been installed, if the radiology residents were still stealing everyone's pens.
It was unfair.
The man had no business making casual conversation while simultaneously being so...
Well.
...Robby.
"Okay," he said after a minute or two. "Let's check."
He picked up a pair of forceps.
Your pulse inexplicably sped up.
He lightly pressed against the skin just beside the wound.
"Can you feel that?"
You genuinely couldn't.
You shook your head softly.
"...No."
His eyes lifted from your hand.
Straight to yours.
"Good."
...
...
...
Your brain blue-screened.
It wasn't what he'd said.
It was how.
Calm. Low. Matter-of-fact. Like he'd been completely certain of the answer before you'd even given it.
Good.
For one horrifying moment your sleep-deprived brain decided to add a completely imaginary second word.
Good... girl.
Absolutely not.
You physically felt yourself short-circuit. Your ears grew warm. Your thoughts scattered in about twelve different directions. You became acutely aware that Robby was still holding your hand.
That his thumb absent-mindedly steadied your wrist. That he smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee. That—
"You okay?"
Your eyes snapped back to his. "...Hm?"
"You got quiet."
"I..." You swallowed. "Yeah."
He watched you for another second. "You sure?"
"Mhm."
"You've gone red."
"I have not."
"You have."
"It's warm in here."
"The thermostat's set to nineteen."
"..."
"..."
"...I may have embarrassed myself."
Robby's eyebrow lifted.
"Oh?"
You considered several options. Lie. Fake your own death. Jump out the nearest window.
"I..." You cleared your throat. "Your... your 'good' caught me off guard."
"My... good."
You nodded once. "Yeah."
Silence. Then, incredibly slowly—
Understanding dawned across Robby's face. His lips pressed together. Not because he was annoyed. Because he was trying very hard—
Very hard—
Not to smile.
"Oh."
You immediately covered your face with your uninjured hand. "Oh my God."
"You thought..."
"Nope."
"You did."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
His shoulders moved with the smallest silent laugh. "I said one word."
"I know."
"It was medically relevant."
"I know."
"You filled in the rest."
"I KNOW."
For the first time since you'd met him, Robby actually chuckled. A proper one. Warm. Quiet.
The sound somehow made everything worse.
"I wasn't laughing," he said after a moment, picking up the suture needle. "Just..."
"You absolutely were."
"...A little."
You groaned into your hand. "I'm transferring hospitals."
"No, you're not."
"I'm moving states."
"You work upstairs."
"I'll quit."
Robby smiled—an honest one this time. "I'd miss having radiology answer their phone."
You peeked at him through your fingers. "...Really?"
He met your eyes again, the teasing fading into something softer. "Really."
Your heart did another irritating little flip.
He looked back down at your hand, slipping effortlessly into doctor mode once more. "Ready?"
You nodded.
He placed the first stitch with practiced precision.
"Can you feel that?"
You smiled to yourself this time. "No."
"Good."
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling any wider.
Across the hall, Abbott happened to glance through the open curtain just in time to catch the ridiculous expression on your face. He looked at Robby. Then back at you.
robby being the main reason dennis grew out his hair 💭
carding his fingers through dennis's hair as it grows out. being swatted away because "I know, I know, I need a haircut..." but instead, he thinks its cute.
robby, not really thinking much of it, says he likes the way it curls up at the bottom. slipping his index into a perfect little ringlet and tugging it sweetly.
dennis never lives this down. letting his hair grow long enough for his curls to always lift right where robby might notice.
hooted and hollered while reading not gonna lie, pining!jack aaaaa
“I’m sorry, I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
But Robby didn’t know any of this.
Sure, there were casual mentions of dates, but since Liz, Robby had never even gotten a hint of something more serious brewing.
He couldn’t imagine Jack Abbot, confident, controlled, a little cocky at times, pining after someone.
When i tell people i am dennis kinnie or just saying that he is like me, might come off with intentions of "oh I wanna ride robby so bad I need that cookie so bad" which is mostly true however, when y'all put your minds together and ascribe some qualities to dennis which (lets be honest are most likely true) i feel spiritually connected to him as a character. Praise kink being one of the main contributing factors to why I jump up and say "he is just like me".
Earlier this year, one of my older female teacher (who i basically saw her as my mother although she denied being our mother i saw her as my mother) left after teaching us for 4 semesters. Unlike other 2 students (there are 4 of us), I didn't know it. Rest assured i was devastated to the point when this new male professor showed up i went into a slump the entire semester, I couldn't attend those lectures because I was upset that the new prof. was not like her. It was lowkey hilarious to see how attached i was to her. Unlike other students who managed to come back to class i couldn't. (Frankly its all good now the new male prof. is very nice and cooperative but that's besides the point)
Coming back to hucklerobby dynamics, i totally see it. Robby sharing his life wisdom with Dennis that he desperately clings onto. Robby giving life advice that dennis throws back at robby (happened with me and my teacher , she laughed it off) [mind you this isn't sexual yearning its just deeper yearning for safety, a rock] which can later manifest into something sexual. For my prof it wasn't, so imagine early years of hucklerobby how they bond over tiny little things. Everytime robby praises dennis he is preening and wants to do a better job always seeking his approval. If Robby takes a break for a while you can practically hear sad squeaking sounds from Dennis cause unlike me , dennis cant just skip his shift but oh he will be bummed out.
