Safe Travels (ReaderxPlatonic!Robby angst, WhitakerxReader)
Word Count: 695
CW: Worrying about Robby, Angst, Weirdly hugging your boss? Idk
"Hey! Hey, Doctor Robby!" You were glad you didn't miss him. He was already in the ambulance bay, hovering over his motorcycle. You hustled over as you didn't want to waste any more of his time than necessary. You two were never particularly close. Just a standard coworker relationship, except that there were two ends to it: sometimes he scared the hell out of you. He had such a fatherly presence where the whole ED was his child...a misbehaving child, always flourishing in chaos that he strained to keep in check. The other half of you was filled with admiration and respect. No one went went to bat for nurses the way he did. He wasn’t afraid to stand up to patients, media, or Gloria on your behalf.
This nuanced relationship made you feel a bit silly in giving him a gift or saying goodbye before his 'vacation.' But three-months is a long time, especially to you and him, the people who lived where mere seconds change lives. "Sorry, I'm sure you wanna get out of here but, I have something for you and couldn't get to it sooner."
You produced a bracelet: a circle of muted, marbled yellow beads held together with elastic. "I know you don't read into symbolic meanings or like any of that 'woo-woo' stuff, but it's citrine, and it's supposed to bring you safe travels. Or-or mean safe travels or whatever--"
He was a man of science and research. He didn't put much stock in faith or superstition, especially when the everyday of The Pitt proved those to be all but useless. Despite this, he cut off your rambling explanation of the stones' supposed powers by wrapping his arms tightly around your shoulders and pulling you close against his chest.
"Thanks, kid." He had rendered you speechless with the fluid, thoughtless action and his two murmured words. Even in your stunned state, you automatically hugged him back. In your four years of working by his side, he had never been this open. If there was any contact, it was a high five or a fist bump (he usually saved shoulder-grasps or claps for the male staff), and never a hug. That's how you knew that he needed it.
It was just a few seconds, and then he released you, but still held you at an arms length. Yet, it felt like everything about the dynamic had shifted and it didn't sit right with you. "Take care of Whitaker for me while I'm gone."
"Of course," you breathed out, just above a whisper.
"And, I guess the rest of this place, too." He finally drew back and began to slide your gift around his wrist.
"Yeah. You got it, Dr. Robby," you replied and tried to give him a smile, but it came weakly and you turned away quickly so that he couldn't see your concern; you were still unsettled. As you headed back toward the hospital, you texted Dennis: S.O.S. in the Bay.
Whitaker was still trying to find his badge. Nothing could make him feel more like a "Huckleberry," as Santos put it, than losing such an important thing within the span of fourteen hours. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took one look at the notification screen and sprinted to meet you in the bay.
You were just past the sliding doors at this point and he caught you, hands squeezing your upper arms and holding you steady so he could meet your eyes. He noticed right away that they were welling with tears. "What's wrong?"
"Sorry. SOS is probably too dramatic, but...something's wrong with Robby. I went to give him the bracelet and he---this feels like goodbye, Whit. And not like a 'see later you in three months' goodbye. A real one."
"Is he still out there?"
"Yeah, he should be. Go talk to him? Please." You didn't need to say, 'please,' really. He was already nodding.
"On it," he slid past you and you turned around to follow him for a few steps. You watched him walk out of the building but didn't want Robby to see you. He was too strong, too stoic for you to let him see that you cared.