the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
robby thinks he’s bad for you. too old, too rough around the edges, too damaged to be around a young, beautiful, budding doctor as yourself. so he ends it, unaware of your pregnancy, unaware of your grief until you face a medial emergency in the middle of the ED.
dr robby x f!reader
rating. 18+
wc. 3.3k
synopsis. robby thinks you’re too good for him, too pure and optimistic… young. he decides to cut you loose, allow you to flourish without him dragging you down. that is, until he faces the idea of losing you forever.
tags/warnings. MDNI, TW MISCARRIAGE, mention of blood, needles, medical inaccuracies, robby is very conflicted, robby thinks you’re too good for him, breakup, lots of angst, reader and robby are deeply in love, reader is devastated, grief, power imbalance, improper coping mechanisms, early stage pregnancy, detailed miscarriage, reader is significantly younger than robby, age gap, female pronouns, female anatomy, afab reader
requested? yes
A/N. enjoy <3
as you stare down at the positive test in your hands, the overwhelming urge to be sick in the toilet you’re currently sat on tugs at your stomach.
your fingers tremble around their hold on the stick, eyes beginning to burn as your vision grows foggy.
“you still good in there?”
samira.
you swallow harshly, sucking in a breath that gets lodged in your chest and sits there like a permanent reminder that this is real. reluctantly, with sweat starting to dot across your nape, you swing the stall door open.
the brunettes brows pinch as she pushes off the adjacent wall, arms crossed as she takes a few steps forward. then her expression shifts, more steady than yours but sharing a similar panic.
“shit.”
“yeah.” you sigh, hoping the continuous, deep breaths will calm the way your pulse has become erratic.
“was this intentional?” you can tell by the hesitant look on her face she most likely knows the answer, she just wants it confirmed to her. you’d roll your eyes if you weren’t so busy nearly hyperventilating, sniffing as the accumulation of tears has caused your nose to run.
“no.”
“do you want this?”
“i don’t know,” children, it’s a conversation you’d never had. you’d been focused on your career for years now, something so very important and overall time consuming you’d never stopped to really think about it. did you want kids? even if you did, it wasn’t the right time, you were still an R2, your life was constantly hectic, “i’ve never put much thought into it.”
“how will you tell him?”
your eyes squeeze shut. that was the first thing that came to mind when the two lines appeared. how would he react? would he lash out at you? no, he wasn’t that kind of man, you knew him better than that.
“will you tell him?”
your eyes snap open at that, gaze darting up to land on samira who’s looking at you with an expression that makes you want to shrink. sympathy, she was a sympathizer after all.
“of course i’m gonna tell him,” even if you wish it was all just a dream, and any second you’d wake up and it would all have just been-, “but what if he reacts badly?”
samira hums, like she’d thought of that as well, shifting from one foot to the other.
“honestly, i don’t know how to answer that for you, but what i’ve seen, he’s a pretty good guy,” somehow she always knows what to say, and you appreciate her words, “plus if anything happens, you still have me. and mel, and pretty much everyone, you’re well liked.”
you laugh softly, wiping at a tear that escapes your eye.
“you’re just saying all that to make you feel better.”
samira smiles.
“doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“thanks, seriously.” you stand, capping the pregnancy test and pocketing it before passing samira to wash your hands. your eyes meet your own in the mirror, soap lathering as scalding water runs over your palms. the warmth is a decent distraction from hoping no one will notice your now puffy cheeks and wet lashes.
samira raises her brows at you through the mirror.
“will you be okay?” you’re not sure how to respond, hands gripping the edge of the sink counter. your eyes meet hers.
you decide to just nod.
“hey, can we talk?” you jog up to where robby stands in the ambulance bay several hours later, hands in his jacket pockets. he turns to you as you stop beside him. there’s a look on his face you can’t place, maybe fatigue, something you’ve seen countless times before and yet different.
“yeah, we need too,” those words throw you a bit off balance, and suddenly you’re anxious that maybe he found out before you could tell him, “and fortunately, i have a minute.”
“great, um,” you falter, heart rate picking up as you glance down at you sneakers, “it’s kind of important.”
robby looks at you again, this time however, you see a hint of concern behind his rough exterior, one he doesn’t hide but is picky with who gets to witness it. although just as soon at it appears, his face falls blank, forehead lines deepening as his brows furrow.
he motions for you to speak, an action so unlike him you stumble over your words.
“oh, uh, you go first, mine will kinda need a conversation,” you grimace at the way you stutter, so foreign to you yet so human in your worries as the attending in front of you just stares, “seriously, tell me.”
your smile is brief, full and bright as the man takes a deep breath, the corners of your mouth falling in tandem with your heart as his next sentence renders you speechless.
“we need to end this.”
what.
you pause, taken aback.
“what?” robby sighs at your response, turning away from you and shaking his head like he didn’t say something that’s left you nearly gasping for air even while outside.
“i’m ending it,” and you feel a sting across your face as if you’ve been slapped, accompanied by a painful throbbing in your chest, “our relationship, fling, whatever you’d like to call it.”
fling? is that how he saw it? sure he said relationship first, but to throw out that other word? is that really all it’s been to him?
“i love you.”
“mmm it’s mutual.” is giggled as you’re perched in his lap, nuzzling into his scruff as he nurses a scotch.
“that’s what you wanted to tell me?” it’s like your senses can’t process this information, the incessant buzzing in your head growing as the seconds tick by.
robby nods, lips forming a tight line.
“i think it’s best to end this before it gets too serious, before my sabbatical.”
your knees wobble, eyes blinking rapidly as tears begin to form.
“how’d you find me?” the sun sets beyond the horizon.
“would you believe me if i told you i looked in every room?” robby walks up beside you, shrugging off his jacket at the sight of a shiver running across your arms. the smell of the anti septic and his cologne invade your nose as the fabric is draped over your shoulders.
you laugh, face suddenly warmer.
“do you offer your jacket to all your residents?”
he smiles, crooked and real.
“only the ones i look in every room for.”
you can feel the test in your pocket, practically burning through the cotton of your zip up as you stand unable to even move.
“oh, okay,” is all that comes out at first, choked up and coming out less assertive than you had intended, “that’s.. really how you feel?”
you miss the way robby glances at you, the look he gives you as you stare down at the pavement, blinking back the glossiness to your eyes.
“yes.” it’s definite. almost like he’s been thinking about this for awhile, and yeah, he’s been a bit withdrawn lately but you wouldn’t have expected this.
your teeth sink into your bottom lip, fingers fidgeting against your jackets hem, the pitter patter of rain begins against the overhang.
“can we talk about this?” you plead, taking a step towards the man.
“ambulance is en route,” that’s all he says, like he can’t be bothered to discuss the bomb he just dropped, “now isn’t the time.” ouch.
“alright,” it’s not alright, and you think you might be sick all over the pavement, “i get it.”
you don’t.
you want to demand an explanation, grab his arm, beg him to tell you why and then convince him to stay.
maybe it’s the hormonal shift, maybe the way the rain has begun to come down harder. but you just want to summon the courage, something so suddenly broken in you just wants to cower away and lick your wounds.
you ignore the throbbing in your chest, the way your body sways at the fear setting in, and you simply turn, and walk back inside.
“she’s an R1?” brows raise.
“about to be on year 2, she’s-,”
“and you’re her superior?”
robby listens to your footsteps fade into the distance, until the doors shut and the howl of wind against the weather leaves him in silence.
his eyes focus on a pebble beside his shoe, watching it roll as he kicks at it. his eyes shut, head leaning back as the sound of sirens grow near. his hearing makes the distant screeching somewhat fuzzy, eyes suddenly snapping open and body lurching forward.
he holds a closed first to the front of his mouth, inhaling deep breaths to calm the way bile has risen in his throat. he swallows it down, sweat dotting his forehead as the gravity of the silence around him sinks in.
he inhales again, this time slightly choking on the air.
his head shakes, face pulling into a pained grimace.
“fuck.”
he kicks the pebble again, this time sending it halfway across the parking lot as the ambulance pulls up.
“i can’t take this.” robby is compelled by your tone, the way your voice is heavy and desperate. he steps closer, body heaving unsteady breaths as you don’t move away.
his hands raise to his hair, ruffling the short brown locks. he sighs, a noise that pulls a sound of complaint from your throat.
“don’t, don’t act like i’m imagining things,” your voice is quiet, almost so much so robby nearly misses it, then your confidence seems to dim, “but… just tell me i am, and i’ll back off.”
his eyes snaps to yours.
“back off?” you shrink beneath his gaze.
“yes, i-,”
“you think i want that?” you’re unsure if that’s rhetorical, you almost laugh.
“michael,” you’re exasperated, “i’m asking you!”
the breath he takes is fast and shallow, head cocking to the side.
“it’s exactly that.”
you falter.
“sorry, what is?” you’re flushed warm to your ears as the man takes another bold step into your personal space, your back gently coming in contact with the wall behind you. you gasp at the startling contact, jaw shutting seconds after when a half bent arm is pressed beside your head.
then he’s leaning in, so close you can practically feel his bodies warmth, feel his breath across your face. he smells like cheap break room espresso, hand sanitizer, that heady musk of someone who’s been on their feet all day. every breath you take is just robby, it’s everywhere, all around you.
“you.”
you lick your lips, trying not to tremble at the way his eyes follow the movement of your tongue.
“you greeting me in the morning like i haven’t spent another sleepless night thinking of only you,” you feel something throb behind your ribs, “always so sweet to me, too good for what i deserve.”
you want to correct him, place a hand on his cheek and tell him that’s not how you see it. not at all. but before you can move against your outwardly nervous hesitation, he’s lifting one of your hands and placing the palm firm against his sternum.
you can feel the way his heart is beating, it’s fast, skipping a beat as your touch presses to him.
“you’re not imagining anything.”
you smile, fingers digging into the open zipper part of his navy zip up, pulling him down to meet your lips. his hands come up to cradle the sides of your face, fingers rough and calloused against your delicate skin.
your spine sparks with tingles as one of his hands drops to caress your back, holding your body steady against his.
as you pull away, you can’t contain the soft laughter that follows.
“i was wondering when you’d say something.”
“are you.. okay?” trinity is staring at you like any minute you’ll fall over.
“yeah,” and she’s not wrong on that assumption, considering the slightly slurred way you responded, “totally.”
the totally is choked up as vomit rises in your throat, lips shutting tight as you squeeze your eyes shut and place your forehead against the nurses station. trinity scowls, stepping back.
you sigh against the cold counter, not bothering to think about any germs you’re currently pressing your face against. your knees shake, joints burning as you stand.
a chart is handed off above your head, groaning as the back of someone’s hand presses into your forehead.
“you’re hot.” cassie.
“thanks.” is muffled.
you can practically feel the eye roll.
“kid, your temperature.” the redhead smiles down at you, removing her hand from your face.
“wait, you’re sick?” dennis walks up, eyeing the board as he does.
“she’s definitely coming down with something gross.” trinity retorts from her position still a yard or so away, looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb of contagion.
it’s probably morning sickness, you think.
“fuck off,” you snap, well, as tough as you can despite the crack in your voice and the shiver down your spine, “i’m not contagious, trust me.”
the three of your colleagues watching your utter misery exchange looks as they hold back laughter.
“where’s the ducklings?” trinity refers to joy and oglivie.
“um, probably causing problems i’ll have to clean up.”
the clock ticks, the board updates.
chaos unfolds within mere seconds.
heavy footsteps echo as dana runs towards the little group thats accumulated.
“we’ve got a mvc 5 minutes out, it’s all hands on deck,” she’s rushing, going through all the paces of preparing for a massive trauma, her rapid gaze slows as it focuses on you, her brow quirks, “is she alright.”
cassie pulls a face, glancing down at you as more commotion fills the ED.
emma runs past carrying too much gauze, nearly slipping on the floor as she rounds a corner.
“i’m fine,” you able yourself to stand, holding back tears as a wave of pain shoots down your midsection, “totally fine.”
you briefly scan the ED, eyes landing on samira who’s saying goodbye to an older patient. she turns, eyes immediately landing on you as if she knew she was in your sights. her brows furrow, face growing taut with a look of concern you’ve seen on her many times before. she mouths a ‘are you okay?’ and you nod, a slow, steady motion as to now further nauseate yourself.
you attempt a smile, the curve dropping the second robby walks around the corner in a conversation with abbot.
“we need to talk.” you finally managed to get robby alone, albeit it’s the break room, but it’ll have to do.
he says your name, and it practically tears your heart in two.
“i can’t do this right now.” you want to scoff at his words.
“well when can you, especially considering you’re leaving tonight off to god knows where.” he’s been avoiding you for days, 3 whole days of acting uncomfortably professional whenever you interact. and can’t exactly confide in anyone about the breakup, no one even knew the the relationship to begin with.
excluding samira, and at least you could rely on her.
“its like you can’t even look at me,” you gesture towards him, watching how he evades eye contact, “case and point.”
“i have a patient to check on.”
“we always have patients to check on.”
robby stands, making his way to the door, still without glancing at your face.
“michael-,”
he says your name in a way that has you inhaling deeply, heart picking up and eyes growing glossy. you suck it up, it’s now or never.
“please, just listen.”
maybe it’s a stroke of luck, or maybe he’s just decided to pity you, but it’s a chance the minute his eyes meet yours.
“i’m pr-,”
“robby, we need you.” javadi pauses in the threshold, eyes wide and panicked. you don’t hesitate to step aside, making space for robby as he casts you a look you can’t quite read right before leaving.
there’s blood streaked across the white, tile floor. footprints trailing away from it, wheel tracks where gurneys had been moved. there isn’t much time to worry about that however as your hands are currently busy giving compressions.
you’re breathing heavy as you do so, trying to ignore a drop of sweat that dips through your brow and stings your eye. it’s cold, the ac is on high, you can feel the cool air on the back of your neck. although it’s doing nothing against the heat your body has built up.
you inhale, the thick smell of iron entering your nostrils and practically coating the inside of your mouth.
something tugs at your gut, then lower, a dull sensation rapidly beginning to cramp painfully.
“16 gauge bore iv going in,” that’s abbot, he’s to your right and although he’s inches away you think it could also be miles, your vision blurs, the sounds around you fade into a indistinct hum, “… .. ….”.
you think you hear your name, body faltering slightly as you miss the count of the compressions.
it’s louder, more demanding.
you blink, tasting lemon as your uterus attempts to tear itself from the front of your stomach when,
“are you alright, doctor,” is followed by your name, direct and mildly, by your own standards, irritated, “if you can’t manage-,”
“sorry?” you blink, heaving through what feel like failing lungs as sweat coats the back of your scrub top.
there’s so much motion in the patient room, blood dripping to the floor, attendings jumping in where they can, two med students huddled in the corner, langdon is across from you, eyes wide as he looks you up and down.
“are you alright?” you swallow at the question.
“yes.”
al-hashimi nods, diligent as ever but trusting in your resolve.
you decide against your prior answer.
“actually, no, someone take over.”
abbot is swift to take your place, casting you a concerned glance as you almost lose your balance taking a few steps back.
the pain roars, stabbing, crawling into your bones and planting itself.
you lean forward, willing yourself to take in air, not allow any more lack of oxygen to make the situation worse.
“what do we have in here?” robby.
he walks in, clearly rushing to gather any useful information as he snaps on a pair of gloves. you can’t even look his way, the slightest movement shooting aches across your lower body. you go to lean your back into the wall behind, rest your head at his heavy it’s grown, when something akin to pure agony rips through your midsection.
you let out a pained gasp, catching the divided attention of your fellow colleagues.
you hear robby speak, something questioning and worried. it doesn’t register, only the faded buzzing of the world around you as it all goes hazy.
“it’s extremely inappropriate.”
robby startles at the unexpected voice of al-hashimi behind him.
“excuse me?”
“your relationship.” she’s blunt, eyes focused on the way robby looks rather perturbed. he clears in his throat.
“it’s also not up for public opinion,” he states, arms crossing, “we don’t need to get personal to work well alongside each other.”
“she’s in her twenties.”
robby feels something in him sink a little. it’s a fact he knew, obviously, one that had kept him from you at the start.
“and she’s allowed to make her own des-,”
“i’m not done.” she doesn’t smile, in fact she looks more serious than he’s ever seen the woman.
“i had a friend in residency, same situation,” she beings to narrate, “but there was a serious power imbalance, and when he went down, he brought her with him.”
robby swallows, eyes casting towards his name badge.
“it’s inappropriate for a reason, and that feeling you have? it’s also for a reason.” she concludes, watching robby shift. he doesn’t look uncomfortable, more in a state of conflicting thoughts racing around his mind.
“food for thought.” her grin is tight and practiced before she walks away.
your vision goes black before you can think to brace for the fall.
you may have noticed that my blog is disorganized and thematically incoherent and my tag game is weaker by the day. this is commentary on the chaos of modern existence
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