PHYSIICIIAN

She had half a mind to keep walking. Let the whole thing dissolve into the noise of the department and be done with it. Easier that way, maybe. But that wasn't how she operated. Butting heads didn't bother her when the situation called for it, but she knew better than to let things fester when a few straight words could sort it out. Hopefully.

Rowen turned back sharply on her heels.

"I'm not ungrateful." Her voice had found steadier ground, quieter than before. "Despite how it probably sounds. Truly. You made a call to back me up, and that's decent of you. I'm not going to pretend otherwise for the sake of my pride."

She shifted her weight, settling into it. The dull ache in her lower back was making itself known the way it always did toward the end of a long shift: quiet, persistent, entirely unwelcome. Typical it'd choose now to join in.

"But situations like that?" Her tone didn't harden exactly, but it levelled out. The easy warmth dialled back to something more considered, more deliberate. "I walk into them every single day. Houses that aren't mine, spaces where I'm not wanted regardless of why I'm there or who I'm treating. I navigate them. Alone, mostly, or with my crew's safety as the first and only priority." She paused, leaning her head slightly forward. "Having someone else step in on my side is the exception, not the rule."

Her arms crossed loosely, more habit than defencive. "So even when a conversation goes sideways, like today, I need to know I got myself out of it. I need to know I can hold my ground." A short breath escaped her, not unkind, just frank. She hadn't quite realised she'd been holding it. "I can't start banking on a rescue that might not be there next time. And I really can't afford to look like I need one."

As chief attending, it's part of the job. Anything that happens in The Pitt is Robby's responsibility. His circus. His monkeys. His business.

"I'm sure you're more than capable of handling yourself. However, as Chief Attending, nothing goes on here without my interference."

With a quiet sigh, Robby unfolds his arms in favor of sliding his hands into his pockets.

@physiiciian liked for a starter | circa. 2026 | location ED

Sometimes, Skye miscalculated hours and if it was worth it. She had been paid a full night, more or less, of service, though she had believed she could manage, he had kept her until the morning hours. While that wasn't usually a problem, for her it put her in a vulnerable spot. He had let her go in the middle of nowhere and paid half of what was agreed.

What scared her the most was the reason she had walked to the ED. Skye hated withdrawals. They scared the shit out of her and made her so fucking uncomfortable. She had taken a bottle of something at a gas station but it wasn't enough, she felt it wasn't enough. Ironically she felt always safe in that ED. Even if people judged or looked at her funny.

By the time she got past triage, she was feeling her heart beat fast and her hands were trembling. Her anxiety was through the roof, which made sitting on that bed torture. She kept wanting to jolt and bolt out of there, because fuck it, but also she didn't want to move. She had not slept, which was not helping her current state at all.

He greets her with a soft smile as he pulls the curtain back, glancing down at his iPad to double check the notes despite knowing full well why she's there. He owes her that courtesy as a fellow human being. After all, she's someone daughter, friend, maybe even mother. She's already been forced to suffer the long wait hours, and will undoubtedly have to wait even more as the staff flit from room to room.

"Must've been a hell of a weekend, huh? Sorry to hear that, but don't worry. We'll get you fixed up and out of here as soon as possible."

While on sabbatical, Robby had much more time to catch up on his reading, particularly various studies found in medical journals. One such study concerned the pathophysiology and pharmacology of opioid withdrawal. Though it's a topic prompted by his recent dealings with Langdon, its also relevant to treating multiple patients who filter in and out of his ED.

As he pulls up a stool and takes a seat beside her, he retrieves his glasses from his breast pocket, briefly checking the lenses for any smudges before putting them on.

her breath hitched as robby’s question, soft and husky, reached her ears. the words, though simple, held a power that sent a shiver tracing a path down her spine. each touch, each glance, had been a careful escalation, and now they were at a precipice she'd been yearning for. her fingers, still exploring the hard planes of his back, tightened, her nails digging slightly into the fabric of his shirt as if to steady herself. the wall pressing against her back felt both solid and insubstantial, her senses narrowed to the feel of his body against hers. the warm press of his hand on her cheek, the lingering taste of his lips on hers. her gaze, hazy with a desire that mirrored his own, flickered from his eyes to his mouth, then back up again.

there's no resistance to her as she's pulled in closer to him, not flinching at his touch to her waist as she wants to be inherently closer and closer to him. any distance feels as if it is too much at this point. hearing him speak, her eyelids flutter open as she takes him in, the desire in him abundantly clear. all too quickly she's swept into into gentle kiss and her eyes slip closed once more at the feeling of his lips against hers.

the way he speaks sends a shot of need straight down her spine, burning the fire inside of her ever hotter. the need isn't going anywhere, she only wants him more with each and every second which passes. "you..." it's an honest answer. him. all of him. all of robby however he comes.

Surely this is also violating all sorts of laws concerning a psychiatrist and their patient, but fuck it. He needs her. He can't stand to be without her touch, her taste, for another goddam second.

nobody ever chooses me.

please...

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.

Perhaps her greatest flaw was her ability to place those she cared about on the highest pedestal she could reach, bathed in that warm glow of idolatry that made her feel tiny when she couldn't match up to them. Dr Robby was only a man - A talented man, who'd worked hard at what he did, yes. But not a god.

No matter how he approaches them, something always goes wrong eventually. He’s a fuck up, a schmuck as his Safta might’ve so lovingly put it. No doubt she’d be disappointed to hear he couldn’t make anything work for longer than a few months.

Fiddling with the medical instruments he’d been cleaning — if only to give his hands something to do — Robby shrugs and offers a crooked, wan smile.

“Sure, but I’d have to strongly advise against getting into anything so complicated with me. It’s best for all involved.”

His compassion is exhausted, spirit withering from loss after loss, each one tearing at his being, leaching from his very life as though he were nothing more than a source to drain from. To have Andrea here, a woman who has such misplaced intimate interest in him — knowing him in such a personal manner — well, Robby can’t say he won’t take full fucking advantage of it. If she wants him, she can have him.

I don’t have much left to give, but you can take the rest.

Her hands explore his topography, anchoring herself to him with a subtle urgency that has him inwardly chomping at the bit like a racehorse at the starting lines, eager for the gate to fly open and release him. She wants him to touch her. It’s a simple request, one he’s more than happy to oblige.

Tummy

This is not the reaction Wanda has expected and she briefly wonders if he is so calm and collected about it on the surface so that she doesn't freak out, but honestly has no intention of dealing with it. Perhaps he is just telling her what he thinks she wants to hear to prevent an outburst. As someone who notoriously avoided attachment and was constantly teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown, Robby was taking this war too well.

Brows furrowed, Wanda quietly mustered him as he approached her tentatively, as if she was a wounded animal threatening to bolt. Luckily for him, Wanda had no intention of doing that and even though she had assumed the conversation would be unpleasant, she had mentally prepared for all eventual outcomes - except this one, somehow, because it had felt entirely far fetched that Robby would take the news well.

An accident like this, however, just might be a blessing in disguise, even if he isn’t certain of the outcome.

Wanda’s clear surprise stings, though he can’t say he doesn’t deserve the lack of confidence. He has a terrible track record when it comes to commitment, and he was fully prepared to call the whole thing off and bow out mere moments ago. This isn’t about misplaced romantic feelings, though. No, something of much greater importance is afoot.

A tilt of his head accompanies a light shrug as he grins sheepishly, “Well, don’t I sound like a real asshole…”

Sadly, it’s not inaccurate.

Unsure if he’s welcome to touch her, he merely takes a cautious step forward, hands safely tucked in his pockets.

“I know you’re fully aware of all we discussed when we started this, but obviously this changes things.”

Awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck, he adds, “Contrary to current belief, I…I’m not opposed to having kids.”

“Okay. Good. Because my brain was about three seconds away from deciding she secretly needed seventeen surgeries and a titanium leg.”

She glanced toward where Rory was getting her cast done before looking back at him.

“And thank you. For not rolling your eyes at the panicked mom routine. I know I can be…” A pause. “A lot.”

Her gaze drifted briefly to the business card still sitting between her fingers.

“Also, Stars Hollow? Wow. So you do know the secret town requirement where everyone eventually becomes emotionally invested in everybody else’s business.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

“And trust me, the town is still exactly the same. Taylor’s probably passed six unnecessary regulations since breakfast, Kirk definitely owns three new businesses, and Miss Patty still runs on gossip and caffeine.”

A small shrug followed. “It’s weird, loud, invasive, and somehow still home.”

Then her tone became softer. “And for the record? People don’t usually stand around hoping someone calls them unless they actually like having them around.”

Much like his own.

It’s good to hear Stars Hollow hasn’t changed a bit. Ever since departing for college out of state, Robby’s missed the convoluted small town antics like Miss Patty’s gossiping, Taylor’s monopolization of the local governing, often nonsensical town meetings, and the fact that the community was very tight knit.

He recalls the lyrics from that old theme song from Cheers: Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name. For a long time, he’d been itching to get away from it, but lately he can’t help but long for the familiar.

Fortunately for him, Lorelai is far more astute and forward than he initially gave her credit for. Rookie move on his part. He really ought to know better.

Grinning, Robby nods his head, having to give credit where credit is due, “Am I that transparent? I’d like to think I’ve a little more mystique about me than that, but yeah. Guilty as charged.”