robby sees a lot of himself in mel. more than he'd expected to, when he first met her. it's an admirable thing, really, the optimism she'd brought in with her to her first day at ptmc. robby had ribbed jack about his not-so-delicately-expressed cynicism, but he'd felt it too– perhaps shaped a little closer to worry. he'd never considered himself particularly effusive, but emergency medicine had dimmed his outlook when he first started. it happens to even the most resilient wells of hope– robby sees it all the time. so mel's eagerness had sent a little pang through his chest, even though it endeared him, too.
more than anything, though, it's in her work ethic. mel is dedicated and precise, quietly confident when it matters. she cares about doing things right in a way that he remembers all too clearly from his first few years of residency. there are ways that will serve her & ways it won't– robby is confident she'll learn them. unfortunately, with that diligence, with that commitment to her work comes the part that's a little tougher for robby to swallow when he recognizes it. the self-sacrifice isn't something her ever really acknowledges, even to himself. when people try to broach the subject of his neglected needs, he brushes it off, shuts it down, offers platitudes.
there's no explanation for it, the abnegation. it just... is. most people have learned to stop calling him on it. even dana grows tired of trying, from time to time. so when mel says it so frankly, robby is too shocked to be anything but honest. brows flick up, & he lets out an almost involuntary laugh. " yeah, well. i guess you got me there. " he ties off another stitch, the last– he's almost sorry for it, knowing she'll almost certainly be back on her feet the moment she's able.
the words 'it just doesn't seem fair' settle over him with an uncomfortable familiarity. an odd feeling– one he's not particularly fond of– to hear his own quietly held belief so plainly put. he breathes the words in without quite knowing how to respond, sighs when comes up empty. "no," he says, "it doesn't." & if robby was willing to be more introspective, he might realize this is his version of therapy. if he can't tell himself how to protect his own well-being, let him tell someone else. the forceps & needle driver click softly when he puts them down. he won't duck into mel's vision like he might with whitaker or mohan, but he fixes his gaze on her– direct, intentional– so that if she chooses to look, she'll see that he really means it– & maybe catch a glimpse of the vulnerable place the advice comes from. "so maybe you don't put yourself first. maybe you don't even put yourself second or third. but you can't come last." too many years of that, & you'll end up like him.