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content warning: tooth rotting fluff, dad!jack abbot, mentions of children, pregnancy, pregnancy reveal, mention hospital, mentions of food & eating, slice of life, not proofread or edited
word count: 2.5K+ words
pairing: jack abbot x black!reader
summary: you think you’re pregnant due to a dream you have and jack is already a few steps ahead of you.
author’s note: fun fact — my mom’s great aunt knew she was pregnant with me because she had a dream about me as a fish. thanks for reading 🫶🏾
IT came to you first in a gentle thought that soon manifested itself to a dream. A dream where you trudged through a fogged, hazy meadows with golden sanctioned flower that reminded you of sunny side up eggs. A dream where you could hold your breath a bit longer in the water of the pond, where the water was clear enough to see nothing but a small magenta fish swimming toward you before you awoke. Awoke with a new feeling — something that you could feel churning underneath your skin. A warm pool spreading across your abdomen, it growing and expanding as you moved through the familiarity of your home you and Jack had been building for years. Walls made out of stone that was soft around its edges as it learned to become tender overtime. You and Jack carried out your normal morning routine where you two could still burn more hours before your night shift. After your girls had their share of breakfast and enough dewy kisses across their cheeks to last them throughout the school day.
It started with the fullness in your cheeks you noticed as you brushed your teeth. You caught the fullness in your dark skin as you spat out the frothy toothpaste in the sink. The mirror was foggy due to the warm steam coming from the shower as Jack bathed. Your fingers dipped in between the flesh around your cheeks, like you did in your dream when you dipped your fingers in the crystallized bond. You turned to the side for a second, hands resting against your hips as you studied your abdomen. Breakfast slightly stretched the fabric of your shirt (actually one of Jack's old shirts), but that same odd feeling in your heart trudged on. A feeling that you knew. It visited you like an old friend in a dream.
The water suddenly stopped. The empty droplets echoed on the ceramic structure and you heard Jack clear his throat. A gruff sound, followed by a squeaky sniff. He sounded like a rusty car engine, something that almost brought comfort to your heart. Jack reached for the towel draped over the railing, stepping out with the towel around his waist. The droplets rolled down his body, like hot coals that dripped past his belly. He gave you a quick smile, face slightly reddened from the warmth that traced his face, the same red that emphasized his body when he had been to close to the sun from harvesting your peach trees almost all afternoon.
You had been growing your peach trees in your backyard as long as you can remember. Pieces of your love that would grow and that you would harvest once the time was right. A time when the world needed it the most. When you could spread its seeds around, blessing the ground where you two walked; blessing the paths the two of you had crossed into a golden, hallowed threshold.
Jack stood besides you, giving your bottom a quick squeeze, knocking you out of your gaze, "You okay?" The question was soft. The tenderness in his voice something you could easily pick out when he either spoke to you, your girls, the women in his life.
You nodded, finding your reflection again, toothbrush now meaningless in your hand. A haze blurring your brain out as you entered in a trance of the pond water and the foggy bathroom.
"I'm just thinking."
He ran a coarse hand through his damp silver curls, taking his face towel and patting dry his face, "'Bout what?"
Something tugged down in your abdomen as you steadied yourself, pressing your palms against the dewy counter, that still felt somewhat cool at the touch, the morning chill still lingering after the warm steam, "How my mom found out she was pregnant with me. She had a dream about a fish. Just a simple fish swimming around in the pond. She called her doctor to see if she could schedule an appointment. When she got her results back, her dream hadn't been so random. I was the fish in the pond."
Jack watched your eyes. Watched as the seemed to glow if possible. How quick your pupils grew, how quick your brown irises churned so quickly he thought they would begin to produce golden spools. He didn't say anything, his face neutral. Instead, he pressed a hand against your back to provide you some sort of comfort.
You continued on, "I didn't tell you this, but I found out I was pregnant with Bonnie so early on is because I had this dream that felt so real. I had this dream where I was in front of this pond and something urged me just to stick my head under for a second. I could hold my breath for a bit longer, the water seemed so easy to see out of. And then I saw our Bonnie girl for the first time: this little bright pink fish swimming toward me. When I was pregnant for the first time ever with Madison, I told her father that I had this dream about a fish swimming toward me. This little pink one. He laughed at it for a while. Until I showed him the proof later that evening and—shit sorry, I'm rambling."
Jack chuckled softly. A noise that you could easily catch and reel up. He shook his head to himself, reaching for his own toothbrush, "Why a fish? Why not a bird, or a butterfly, or even a rabbit?"
You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you caught his reflection in the mirror that seemed to be less hazy, "I don't know," you began, running a hand through your coils, "I never questioned it. Maybe it's something hereditary." You pressed your palms against the counter, while pictures of the fish came swimming back to your mind all over again , and you couldn't stop the pounding in your heart.
"If you weren't a doctor and I never told you about the fish dreams, how do you think you would've found out I was pregnant if I didn't tell you?" You question, breaking the silence along with the sound of Jack brushing his teeth.
He paused his brushing for a second, giving you a raise of his brow before he spat in the sink, "Well, you start craving one specific food. Always. Like with Bonnie, you craved those shortbread cookies that they no longer carry in stores anymore. You told me with Maddy, you always wanted to eat pudding cups, and with this one, all you want are peaches."
Oh.
You stopped for a moment. Your lips parted, eyes growing wider that they stung a bit from the wave of fresh air.
He wiped his lips with a towel before he turned back to you, as you shook your head in disbelief, "You can't know that."
His hands cupped around your bottom, before he found the sector near your hips. His eyes softened a bit, "Can't know what?"
A little noise came out of your throat like you were gargling water as your eyes blinked rapidly and you stumbled to find your wording. "That I think I'm—I didn't even tell you the fish dream I had last night and somehow you can manage to figure it out and I didn't even say anything to you." You placed your hands on his bare chest. It was still warm, and you could feel the gentle thumping of his heart underneath your palm. You shook your head again, leaning your forehead against chest, "And the funny thing is, I haven't even taken a test yet, so we actually don't know… It could all be in my head for all I know and—"
"—Hey, hey, hey," he pressed on in front of you, keeping his arms steady around you, tucking your coils behind your ears, his tender voice maneuvering you through a wave of emotions threatening to catch you, "Look at me. Okay. We're gonna figure this out, okay? We'll get you tested as soon as possible, but you gotta calm down for a moment, hon. We don't need you stirring yourself into a panic. I don't think it's in your head. I think that—"
He took a moment to steady himself, looking down at your belly, pressing his hand against it, you could've sworn he had to swallow back his own tears, "That fish… that you saw our baby. And that you are pregnant and I feel over a thousand thoughts running through my head regarding what the nursery will look like, what Maddy and Bon, are gonna say— oh our Bonnie! God, she's gonna be so excited to be a big sister!"
You laughed. A break from the clawing emotions you felt; the ones that ran all over your head that brought forth your greatest anxieties and fears. Perhaps that lingering fear of having to start all over again. Lingering fears of even having another child together. A film of clearness lined your eyes as you blinked back the urge to cry, "We're really doing this again?"
"We're really doing this again."
Jack Abbot couldn't keep his eyes off you. From across the emergency department is where his eyes followed you down and traced the figure of your body. If you guys were on cases with each other, he'd follow your lead, command the attention of the room back to you; it was always, "Perhaps we should listen to what Dr. Abbot has to say." He followed you around like a lost lamb, giving thumbs up from across the illuminated rooms, giving you little nods. The fruit of his actions all noted back to why you had to purchase a size up in scrubs, the reason why your cheeks looked a bit fuller, the reason why your body had grown more softer over the past couple months — a small secret growing between the two of you guys. A secret you guys wanted to keep private between you two for just a few moments longer.
You were thankful that you had a moment to catch your breath, and steady it. You sat down near the nurses station, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you leaned back in the chair, closing your eyes just for a second. The rhythm of the hospital moved quickly, fast paced, and that was why you liked it (obviously when you weren't pregnant). But it made you realize the moments of quiet that you always took advantage of. The moments of silence were most important to you. Those moments where you could take a step back out of your body and watch the night life fold around the edges, taking in the breaths of humanity. Realizing how important the job you worked was.
"You alright, honey?" Your sweet, red-haired night shift charge nurse, Lena questioned, rubbing a hand over your shoulder.
You pressed your lips together, giving a nod. A couple of strands of your dark hair tickling your forehead became quickly damp from the film of sweat forming at your forehead. Your skin became dewy causing you to wipe your hands over your face. It prickled your skin like dessert heat pooling through your body.
"I'm okay. 'M just hot. Just give me a second and I'll be good to go back on my feet."
She gave you a nod, but she hesitated as she went back to her area behind the desk.
You took another breath before you got up and headed toward the lounge area. You bee-lined straight toward the refrigerator, grabbing one of your plastic cups of diced peaches. The only thing you could seem to stomach these days that wouldn't have you running to the bathroom in the middle of your shift. You sat there, slowly eating your peaches in an attempt to regain some strength to finish out your shift strong. There were still a couple hours left before you could go home and it was taking all your mental capacity to not call it quits and leave early.
It seemed as if the chaos outside had quieted softly; there was still some prominent chatter and hurried voices that echoed back in, but for the most part, you had found your own pocket of peace.
As you were on your sixth peach cup, the door opened, gently shutting behind the figure. You didn't have to look up to process who it was as the soft clink of metal gave it away, alongside the lingering smell of your vanilla perfume wafting in. The seat across from you screeched on the floor before a moment of silence traced after and bathed in between the crevices of the silence.
"Hey."
There he was.
You looked up after finishing the last peach, the sweetness filling out on your taste bud and around the apples of your cheeks.
"Hi."
Jack stood up from his chair, instead occupying the seat beside you. He sat down, at ease almost. His tenderness leaking through, a softer he approach he'd taken for years while speaking with you. The flesh around his eyes appeared slightly worn like a piece of old cloth, but the skin creased as he smiled at you again, pressing a kiss to your cheek, resting his hand on your belly and the other hand right underneath the bowl of your ribs. A new action that lingered with some familiarity at he had done the same for when you were pregnant with Bonnie. His hand was warm against your scrub top and you could feel the slight twinge of his fingers thumping. You were far from showing as you were still in the later weeks of your first trimester, but Jack could've sworn that your belly was in fact growing at a rapid pace.
"How's peaches doing?" He mused carefully, siding his other hand from your ribs to the other side of your stomach, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your scrubs.
You stacked the empty fruit cups along with the other ones before you placed your own hands on top of his, "They're okay. Like when you asked the past five times."
He hummed lowly, the sound resonating through his chest, as he placed his hand on the small of your back, "Well I was only asking because Lena let me know that you didn't look to great and you went to rest in the break room."
You leaned in closer to him, "I—we're fine, Jack. I promise. We're nothing but peachy."
He nodded, his eyes finding yours. He was about to say something when his eyes saw your stack of plastic peach cups, "How of those have you eaten?"
Heat rushed up to your cheeks, the redness blooming through your dark skin as your let out a loose chuckle, "Probably five. Maybe six."
He laughed. Not in a taunting manner, but it was rhythmic. Something you could follow along and chase the tune to. He pressed another kiss to your cheeks, "How about we get some breakfast after our shift ends. Some proper food in you, yeah? Can't have you eating peaches this entire pregnancy."
You nodded, the tug in your lips growing with almost an overwhelming sweetness, "Yeah… I guess not."
A HANDY CHART FOR THOSE OF YOU WONDERING WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THESE. NOTE THAT THESE ARE ALL THE INFORMAL AND YOU IS THE FORMAL SO LIKE YOU WOULD ALWAYS ADDRESS YOUR SUPERIOR/ OLDER PERSON/ SOCIAL BETTER WITH YOU BUT WITH YOUR BUDS YOU CAN USE THESE.
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summary: after six years of avoiding it, you're finally forced to make your way back home. things should feel easier as you make the transition back to something familiar, but it only fills you with dread to think about finishing your years as a med student at the pitt, working under your father.
warnings/tags: yo... holy daddy issues, angst, michael robinavitch is his own warning, platonic/father-daughter relationship, robby is not really being a great dad rn... he is not the girl dad you people think he is
wc: 10.9k
"For a minute the world seemed so simple"
Your first time back in the PTMC since moving home was more anxiety-inducing than it should've been. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you weren't just there as an attending's kid; you were now there as a med student.
You walked in, hair styled out of your face but in a way that made you feel confident, brand-new top worn under your scrubs. You knew better than anyone that this look wouldn't last, but it was something to boost your morale and help ease the soul-crushing anxiety that had been weighing on your chest since you went out to dinner with your father and now- coworkers, over a week ago.
"There she is!" the thick, charming Pittsburgh accent you'd always been comforted by, doing just that as you attempted to maintain confidence. Your perfect posture dropped momentarily as the tension released from your spine, a natural grin of relief finding its way upon your lips.
"Well, hello, Charge Nurse Dana Evans." you mocked a professional greeting, causing Dana's already present smile to brighten as she set down her chart and swung around the nurses' station to greet you.
"Dr. Y/n L/n-" She slung an arm over your shoulder before leaning in to mumble in your ear, "Or are you going back to Robinavitch?"
You tensed slightly, giving her a dramatic grimace, "definitely not- for so many reasons, Dana"
You chuckled as she pulled you into a full hug, "Excited to have you back with us, sweetheart... you're gonna do great."
You squeezed her in return, your breath hitting her collarbone as your face fell into the slope of her shoulder. You wished you could stay there, but you reminded yourself you had people to prove wrong (your father), and that wasn't going to be achieved by staying in Dana Evans's arms for the entirety of your first shift.
"Feel the rush of my blood, I'm seventeen again"
a few moments passed- you greeted Princess and Perlah in casual Tagalog, to which they excitedly greeted back and joked about how you'd been practicing. You caught up with them and told them all about your extensive language studies throughout college and how they inspired you to give Tagalog a try.
The next interaction came from none other than Jack Abbot- a carefree arm tossed around your shoulder, causing you to jump before realizing who it was, "Try not to give your old man a hard time today, okay?"
He said with a teasing smirk, but it landed sourly, leaving a slight burn in your stomach. You didn't react physically, giving an easy, semi-shy smile as you leaned into him.
The warmth and comfort of your found family slipped away as your father approached, chatting with a guy with blonde curly hair and a girl with a dark ponytail. You felt Abbot's arm tighten around your shoulder in a brief reassuring squeeze before it fell back to his side.
Robby finally made eye contact with you, seemingly halting in his conversation long enough for the two trailing behind him to notice. They looked in your direction as well, but before either could say anything, Robby resumed, leading them to the center of the ED and calling out to gather everyone to join them.
Robby waited until the crowd had gathered before clearing his throat.
"Alright. Quick rundown before everybody scatters." The room quieted as you shifted your weight anxiously. Same ED. Same people. Different role. You tried to remind yourself that while you may not have been here, you still have experience, and knowing many of these people will only make the blend easier
Robby launched into his usual briefing, discussing staffing assignments, patient volume, bed shortages, and all the things that made emergency medicine feel like controlled chaos.
You tried focusing on his words, but all you could think about was the fact that every single person standing around you already knew who you were- and not as a doctor, or even just a med student, but as Dr. Robby's kid.
"And one more thing." Your stomach dropped. Robby glanced down at his clipboard.
"We have a new medical student starting with us today." You tried to resist the visceral reaction your nerves were sending to your brain when Robby looked directly at you.
"Most of you already know Y/n." Several people smiled, a few waved, others looked reasonably lost, as you forced a professional smile in return.
"She's rotating with us for emergency medicine." You thought it was going to end there- it probably should've ended there...
"Obviously there's a potential conflict of interest." Your smile vanished as the room got quieter.
"So for everyone's sake, including hers, I'm going to be very clear-" you could see Dana and Abbot tense from where they stood slightly off your father's shoulder.
"She won't be receiving any special treatment." Your jaw tightened. You tried to keep your gaze locked on him, to seem as unbothered as you should be, but you could see Samira wince silently out of the corner of your eye, already knowing this wasn't going to go over well.
"Nobody needs to cut her any slack because she's my daughter." Heat crawled up your neck.
"Matter of fact-" Robby continued, somehow making it worse, "if anything, I'd encourage people to hold her to a higher standard."
A few awkward chuckles sounded. Fuck, you wanted to disappear all over again. Robby didn't notice- or maybe this was one of those times where he did notice and didn't know how to stop.
"She's smart, but she's also stubborn." Jack immediately ran a hand down his face, shifting in his stance.
"And she has a tendency to think she knows more than she does." Dana let out a deep sigh, her hands clasped in front of her as she dropped her head momentarily, shaking it in disappointment.
And suddenly there it was- that familiar burn you'd been carrying since you were fifteen, settled right into your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to taste the metallic flavor of blood, while the room remained quiet for a beat too long.
"She's capable," he continued, almost as if he was trying to convince everyone else of your skills rather than himself.
"Just don't let her talk you into thinking she knows more than she does." A few scattered laughs followed. Your face felt hot as you stared at a spot somewhere behind him. You could feel Dana looking at you, and could feel Abbott looking at Robby. You refused to look at either of them.
The worst part was that none of it sounded particularly cruel if someone didn't know better. To everyone else, it probably sounded like harmless teasing, father-daughter banter. Ya know, the kind of thing families did!
But Dana knew. Jack knew. Frank knew. Samira knew. And judging by the uncomfortable expression on Princess's face, fuck, she probably knew something wasn't sitting right either.
Your jaw tightened- you forced yourself to relax it... then tightened it again.
Robby finally looked up from his clipboard. "Anyway."
A pause. His eyes met yours as he seemingly held his breath for a second before diverting his attention elsewhere to wrap up his speech. "We have a busy shift ahead of us. Questions?"
Nobody spoke as he looked around, eyes not even stopping on you as he surveyed the crowd.
"Good." He clapped his hands once. "Let's get to work."
Conversations resumed as the group immediately began breaking apart, people scattering toward their assignments. You stayed exactly where you were, still, silent, biting the inside of your cheek raw.
Dana appeared at your side almost instantly, her shoulder gently bumping yours. You glanced over as she raised an eyebrow. You offered a smile- a fake one, of course- but a smile nonetheless. The same one you'd been giving adults since you were thirteen years old, that said "please don't make a thing out of this".
Dana's expression softened, an understanding nod bobbing her head, "alright..."
Before she could say anything else, a familiar voice called your name, "Hey, troublemaker."
You looked up just in time for Frank Langdon to throw an arm around your shoulders, the tension in your chest loosening immediately.
"Frank." You rolled your eyes, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from your voice, but the soft smile on your face betrayed your true feelings.
"There she is." He gave your shoulder a squeeze, shaking you around a bit. "Took you long enough!"
You rolled your eyes, "I literally just got here."
"Yeah, six years late." That earned a genuine laugh from you. Samira appeared beside him, smiling warmly, "We've been waiting."
Your expression softened as you escaped Langdon's hold to throw your arms around Mohan's shoulders, burying your face in her neck. "I missed you guys. So much..."
"We know," Frank said cockily, hands behind his head. "The department's morale has been terrible without you."
"You are so full of shit."
"Language." You barked out a laugh, the familiar rhythm of the interaction settling your nerves almost instantly.
Samira glanced between you and the dispersing crowd. "You okay?"
The question was gentle, dangerously so. You immediately looked away. "Yep."
Both of them stared, neither believing you. Frank opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it, deciding against whatever he was about to say. Instead, he hooked a thumb toward the hallway. "Well, lucky for you, you don't have to deal with me today."
"Oh?"
"Robby's got you working with Whitaker and Javadi." Your smile froze, not quite dropping, just wavering slightly in confusion, "Oh."
Frank laughed, "Oh, don't sound so excited."
To be honest, you really weren't. Not anymore, at least. All of your excitement to get to know people vanished the second Robby let everyone know you were related. You were kind of hoping to just follow Langdon or Mohan around for the day and occasionally hop in with someone else when you found your rhythm.
"I just don't know who those people are."
"You will."
"That's usually how meeting people works, Frank."
"Good point." Samira shook her head fondly, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a small, pained smile, "Good luck."
You frowned, "That didn't feel very reassuring..."
"It wasn't really supposed to be." Before you could respond, two figures approached from the opposite side of the nurses' station.
The blonde guy from earlier and a shorter girl wearing a purple zip up, both looking equally as awkward. They both hovered slightly, looking at each other to see who would speak first. They looked helplessly back at you as you raised a brow.
The girl offered her hand first, "Victoria Javadi. I'm also a student doctor- second year here!"
You smiled politely and shook it, "Y/n L/n."
A small smile tugged at her lips, the rest of her starting to relax now that she's seen you smile, "Nice to officially meet you."
The blonde stepped forward next, "Dennis Whitaker. First year resident"
You shook his hand as well. "Nice to meet you."
Whitaker opened his mouth to say something, then halted. He glanced over toward where Robby had disappeared, then back at you, seemingly processing his observations in front of you. "I didn't know Dr. Robby had a daughter."
"Huh... no kidding," you snarked, crossing your arms. Whitaker immediately felt like it was the wrong conversation starter after seeing you close yourself off again.
"Uh... so... are you Jake's sister?" You scoffed and chuckled humorlessly. "No. Love that kid- but no..."
More awkward tension hung in the air for a moment or two before you elaborated.
"Dr. Robby is my biological father, which is unfortunately why I am as fucked as I am." You deliver it with a dryness that Dennis isn't really sure whether or not it's okay to laugh.
A short, awkward silence followed. Whitaker glanced at Javadi- she glanced back at him- neither of them seemed entirely sure how to respond to that.
Finally, Dennis let out a small laugh through his nose, "Well... at least you're self-aware."
"Years of therapy." That got a slightly bigger laugh out of both of them, the tension easing a little, even though they were both still a little unsure of whether you were joking or not.
You exhaled deeply and began heading in the opposite direction "Sooooo... Trauma three?"
"Uh yeah-" Javadi nodded, glancing quickly to the doctor beside her, still a little nervous to interact with you. "Yes. Your dad just put us on the same patient."
"right..."
Your first patient went smoothly, and the day picked up after that.
Patients blurred together, labs were drawn, consults were called. You spent most of your shift trying not to think about your father's introduction and focusing instead on proving that you actually belonged there.
A few hours in, while waiting for updated imaging on one of your patients, you found yourself staring up at the tracking board.
"Man..." the intimidating girl with the dark hair stationed herself next to you with her hands in her pockets, "I knew Dr. Robby was a misogynist, but I didn't think he'd be an asshole to his own daughter."
She tried to joke, staring at your side profile until you slowly turned your gaze to catch her with an unimpressed brow raise and a slightly irritated quirk of your lip
"Yeah... he's... he's something." You didn't give her much, going back to looking up at the patient board. She stood beside you for a moment, then shifted to face you, leaning against the wall.
"Trinity Santos." She extended her hand straight out, looking effortlessly cool with one leg propped on the wall behind her. You couldn't help the tiny amused smirk that peeked out as you shook her hand.
"Y/n."
"So I've heard." You rolled your eyes.
"Yeah, well, apparently you're the first," Santos snorted.
"Honestly, kinda hard not to know about you when half the department practically raised you." That caught you slightly off guard, her casualness and lack of pity or awkward sympathy something you weren't necessarily used to.
"You're the first person who's said that without making me feel weird about it."
"Well I mean- it is weird." You barked out a laugh, and Santos grinned, letting your laughter hang for a brief moment before continuing
"I mean, seriously. I've worked here for two years, and every third person I meet has some story about you."
"Oh God, they do not-" you crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes slightly, the small smile still on your face
"'Y/n used to sit at the nurses' station and do homework.'" You groaned at her first impression of some other staff member
"'Y/n used to sneak extra pudding cups from the patient fridge.'"
"I was eight-"
"'Y/n got suspended for punching a kid who made fun of Dana.'"
"Okay, that one was justified."
Santos pointed at you immediately. "See? That's exactly what Dana said."
You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing for the first time all day. Trinity noticed, and her expression softened slightly.
"Can I be honest?" You hesitated, already preparing to pull up another wall, even though she never really broke through the first one. "Depends."
She hummed, "Fair."
A beat passed.
"That introduction this morning was kind of fucked." Your eyes immediately flicked toward her. You waited for the usual follow-up- some sort of excuse or justification- but the "he means well" never came.
Santos just shrugged. "Maybe that's not my business."
"No..." you said slowly. "I mean, it kinda is now."
She nodded. "Then yeah. It was weird."
You let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Thank you."
Santos frowned, brows furrowing. "For what?"
"For not immediately defending him." That seemed to genuinely surprise her.
"Why would I do that?" You stared at her, she stared back, and suddenly you realized how ridiculous the statement sounded outside the context of your life.
Santos shook her head, "Look, Robby's a good doctor."
You immediately braced yourself, "But being a good doctor doesn't automatically make someone a good parent."
Your eyebrows shot up. The woman beside you shrugged. "What?"
"No, it's just..." you laughed softly. "Most people here don't say stuff like that."
"Yeah? Well, they should." You laughed again- a real, tickled laugh, leaving Santos smiling slightly, pleased with herself. The two of you stood there for a moment, looking up at the patient board.
"Wanna hit 14 with me?" she asked as she started to back away. The small smile still on your lips as you replied, "Sure."
The silence wasn't awkward anymore as the two of you began heading toward the patient. In fact, it was surprisingly comfortable.
"You know," Santos said eventually, "I actually thought you were gonna be terrifying."
You glanced over, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, "Me?"
"Yeah."
"Why?" She deadpanned.
"Because you're Robby's daughter and Langdon talks about you like you're some mythical creature."
You burst out laughing, "Oh my God!"
"'The legendary Y/n, resident golden child, is coming back.'" you rolled your eyes, grinning because that is definitely something he'd say
"Well, for starters i was never a golden child-" Santos cut you off with a raise of her brow
"Not in the eyes of Frank Langdon- 'You guys are gonna love Y/n.'"
You laughed as she continued to imitate him, making her voice a little deeper and raspier and moving her hands around rapidly to mock his excitement
"'Y/n's gonna fix this place!'" That one got you a little bit. You knew that one was likely very true because it's the same thing Frank and Samira would tell you when you were having a hard time in school. They didn't even necessarily mean the Pitt itself, but wherever you ended up, you were bound to make it a better place.
You ran a hand over your face as you shook your head, "Frank is such a loser."
"He really is." You shook your head, still laughing, and for the first time all day, you found yourself genuinely glad you'd come back.
"I am not scared of death, I've got dreams again"
The patient wasn't supposed to be complicated, at least that's what you thought when Trinity dragged you into the room.
The woman was somewhere in her forties, complaining of abdominal pain and nausea- nothing immediately alarming. She was talking, laughing with you, even. Her vitals weren't perfect, but they weren't horrible either. It should've been straightforward.
You and Trinity introduced yourselves, asked your questions, and did your exam as usual. The patient answered easily enough, but something about it made your stomach twist. A gut feeling, a nagging little voice, the same one that had followed you throughout school whenever something didn't fit quite right.
You glanced toward Trinity, "Can you pull up her labs again?"
Trinity raised a brow but complied. You looked through them once, rescanned them again, and then even a third time.
"What?" Trinity asked, and could only give her a frown before mumbling, "I don't know yet."
You obviously hated that answer as much as she did. You wanted something concrete, but more so, you wanted to be wrong. However, the feeling persisted, so you dug deeper. You asked more questions, pulled up older records, looked through previous visits, and slowly the picture started coming together.
It wasn't enough to diagnose anything, but enough to know that something wasn't right. Enough to know she needed more attention than she'd been getting, and enough to make you seek out an attending. Unfortunately, that attending happened to be your father...
You found him halfway through charting. "Dad-"
Robby looked up immediately before you even had time to cringe at yourself, "Dr. Robinavitch."
His expression shifted slightly. "What've you got?"
You launched into your presentation- professional, organized, concise. You explained your findings and concerns, along with your reasoning, never once pausing or shifting your tone to look for reassurance. You didn't try to convince him you were right, you were simply presenting a patient, the way you'd done hundreds of times before and would continue to do
And Robby just stared. He couldn't help it because, for a moment, he forgot to listen. Not completely- he didn't entirely shut you out and ignore the case you were presenting- he still followed and understood what you were saying, but part of his brain got stuck somewhere else.
You sounded different. Not like the angry teenager who used to scream at him across the kitchen. Not like the little girl who followed him around the hospital asking a million questions. Not like the daughter he'd spent years failing to understand.
You sounded like a doctor- not even a med student, but an experienced doctor. Confident. Capable. Comfortable... like you belonged there.
It shouldn't have shocked him. Obviously, he knew you were in medical school, and it was only natural for you to feel comfortable in this environment since you were already pretty familiar.
He knew you'd excelled in school and that you'd worked your ass off to get there... but knowing something and seeing it were two entirely different things.
You wrapped up your presentation of the patient's case, and Robby just blinked, then nodded, "Alright. Let's take another look."
You exhaled, shoulders dropping slightly as the tension released, and followed him back to the room. The concern ended up being justified- she wasn't crashing over dying, but she was significantly sicker than everyone initially believed.
And as you spoke to the patient with the confidence of a seasoned professional and the kindness of a rookie, Robby couldn't stop watching you.
He was completely enamored by how clearly you'd explained things, answered every single question she had with ease, and even made her laugh once despite the circumstances.
And suddenly he wasn't looking at a student anymore- he wasn't even looking at a doctor- he was looking at his daughter.
His daughter.
The little girl who used to sit at Dana's desk, coloring while he finished charts. The little girl who made him drawings for his office. The little girl who begged him to come to softball games and school events and college visits. The little girl he'd spent years disappointing.
And somehow... somehow you still became this. This kind, brilliant, resilient young woman. Everything he'd ever wanted for you. Everything you were able to accomplish without him.
The realization hit so hard it nearly knocked the air from his lungs, because when had this happened? When had you grown up? When had you become someone he admired? When had he stopped being the center of your world?
The answer was pretty obvious...
Years ago, while he was busy working, grieving, making excuses. Busy missing everything revolving around you. All while you were busy with the same things, and he didn't even stop to think how badly you needed him. Robby felt his throat tighten.
You turned slightly, asking Trinity something about the patient's imaging. Your movements were so familiar. Your expression, the way you pushed your hair behind your ear. For one impossible second, he saw both versions of you at once- the child and the doctor- and it nearly brought him to tears.
Holy shit. That's my little girl... and she's incredible!
The patient ended up being transferred upstairs about an hour later, stable, monitored, and taken seriously, which was all anyone could really ask for.
"There is meaning on Earth, I am happy"
You finished documenting your portion of the consult while Trinity wrapped up the last few loose ends. The two of you made your way out into the hallway, exhaustion already beginning to settle into your shoulders.
"See?" Trinity nudged your arm lightly. "You didn't kill anybody on your first day."
"This shift is far from over Dr. Santos" she chuckled, hands holding onto the stethoscope around her neck "Good point."
You both chuckled softly, easy grins remaining on your faces. The doors to the patient's room swung open behind you, and you stepped aside automatically to let staff pass, then froze as you realized it was your father.
Your stomach immediately tightened. Old habits. You waited for a correction, criticism of some sort- there had to be something you'd forgotten- something you'd done wrong.
Robby looked between you and Trinity before settling his gaze on you, keeping it neutral as he held eye contact for a moment, then he cleared his throat.
"Good catch." You blinked. "What?"
"The patient." His voice was casual, matter-of-fact, like it was the most normal thing in the world- and to any other doctor or med student in this place, it would've been normal.
"You picked up on something everybody else missed."
The hallway suddenly felt too warm, "Oh."
Robby nodded once, awkward tension pulling his lips into a straight line, before he took a deep breath, "You did a good job."
Your breath caught in your throat as your heart stopped. No dramatic speech. No hug. No grand gesture. Just five words- that's what nearly did you in.
You did a good job.
The phrase hit you so hard it was almost embarrassing. How your eyes immediately widened and began to water, the pressure and sting in your nose like you were about to burst into tears at any second.
Logically, it shouldn't matter this much. You were twenty-something years old, you'd survived college, most of medical school, board exams, cross-country moves, heartbreak, loss- you didn't need your father's approval...
You didn't.
So why did it feel like somebody had reached into your chest and squeezed your heart?
"Oh." Brilliant response. You swallowed, "Thanks."
Robby nodded again, like he'd completed the task he'd set out to do, then glanced toward Trinity. "You too."
Trinity immediately looked delighted, "Thank you, Dr. Robby."
"Don't let it go to your head."
"Oh, it already has." He shook his head, a small grin on his face as he started walking away. You watched him disappear around the corner as Trinity looked over. You were still staring after him, still trying to process what had just happened.
"You okay?" You blinked, not looking away from where your father had just disappeared. "Yeah."
Your voice came out softer than intended, but then you realized you were staring, and you cleared your throat, turning your attention to Trinity with a small, barely contained smile.
"Yeah. I'm good." Trinity studied you for a moment, then, mercifully, decided not to push.
"Cool." She bumped your shoulder. "C'mon, Doc"
The title made you laugh. You felt a little light-headed, the last hour and a half leaving you feeling lighter than you'd managed all day. As you followed her back toward the nurses' station, you found yourself smiling for no reason at all.
Trinity bumped your shoulder as the two of you approached the nurses' station. You were still trying not to think about what had just happened, but the words sat heavily in your chest.
Javadi looked up from the chart she was working on, her gaze flickering between you and Trinity, then narrowing slightly. "What happened?"
"What? Nothing," you answered immediately and Trinity snorted. "Something happened."
You shot her a look, but she just grinned. Javadi glanced between the two of you again, then her eyes widened.
"Oh my God." there was a pasuse as everyone waited to hear what she'd just figured out, "Did Dr. Robby compliment you??"
Your eyes widened as you visibly tensed, "Oh my God."
Trinity's smug grin only grew wider as she crossed her arms, "He did."
"He did not."
"He absolutely did." Trinity looked delighted as Dennis glanced up from the computer beside them. His attention drifted between the conversation for a moment before he quietly returned to whatever chart he was reviewing.
"He said I made a good catch- that's hardly a compliment."
The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them as you watched Javadi's jaw drop semi-dramatically, a small quirk of her lip making it appear a bit more teasing than serious
"You got a 'good catch'?" You groaned and buried your face in your hands, leaning against the counter. "Please stop."
"A good catch is huge." Whitaker chimed in from his spot behind the desk, eyes unmoving from the screen, but his bottom lip jutted out in acknowledgment as he nodded slightly
You groaned again, slumping further against the counter, face fully leaning on it now, as Trinity looked downright fascinated by your embarassment
Victoria's expression softened slightly. "I get it."
You peeked over your arms at her. "My mom's like that."
You immediately straightened. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah." She leaned back in her chair. "If she compliments me, I remember it for like- six months."
Trinity barked out a laugh and Javadi pointed her gaze at her, "I'm serious!"
"No, I believe you."
"Like, logically, I know she loves me." "Right."
"But hearing approval from someone who taught you everything you know is..." She shrugged. "Different."
Something about that settled the strange feeling in your chest. It was nice to know someone understood. Not completely- nobody could- but enough that you didn't feel ridiculous for caring.
"That's actually a really good way to put it." Javadi smiled softly and shrugged
"Would you look at that," The familiar voice pulled your attention away from the chart in front of you. Samira Mohan stood at the opposite side of the nurses' station, coffee in hand, her warm gaze drifting between you, Javadi, Whitaker, and Santos. "Glad to see you're making friends already, Tweety Bird."
You squeezed your eyes shut, alreayd knowing when you opened them that you "new friends" would be giving you looks
"'Tweety Bird'?" Santos questioned, a teasing grin on her face.
You sighed and peeked at her, "It's a long story"
Samira laughed and came closer to the group, joining you and Trinity in leaning against the station, "Obviously we all call Robby "Robby"- but when Y/n was little, she just didn't get it, so everyone started calling her "Robin" to make her feel included-"
Trinity, Victoria, and Dennis were locked in on the lore of their newest coworker, "which eventually became "Birdie", cuz ya know- Robin the bird, duh. And then one day she came in wearing this bright yellow sweater-"
"It was a dress." you cut in, correcting the minor details in her retelling
"Right, a bright yellow dress- so Jessie started calling her "Tweety", and now it just rotates between those." She finished off, and everyone had some sort of amused expression, while you were trying to bury your embarrassment
"That's... honestly, adorable." Victoria was the only one to speak up
"Okay." Mohan chuckled softly as she threw an arm over your shoulder
"You look significantly less terrified than you did this morning." You immediately groaned. "Oh my God."
"What??"
"You could tell?" Samira raised a brow. "Y/n."
Fair enough. You sighed dramatically. "Okay, yeah. I was a little terrified."
"A little?" You shifted in her hold to bump against her, "Shut up."
The corner of her mouth twitched as she glanced around the station, before tilting her head slightly to speak quieter directly to you, "You surviving?"
You thought about it- about Trinity sort of taking you in, Javadi being someone you could relate to, the "good catch" you had a little bit ago, the fact that you hadn't completely embarrassed yourself yet... "Yeah."
This time the answer came easily. Your bottom lip jutted out as you nodded, "Actually... yeah."
Samira nodded once, her natural smile warming your heart, her expression reading like that was exactly what she'd been hoping to hear.
"Good." And that was it. She took a sip of coffee and immediately pivoted back to work.
"A minute from home but I feel so far from it"
Robby didn't get much time to think during a shift- that's one of the things he liked most about emergency medicine. There was no room for overthinking and hyperfixating, not when patients kept coming and nurses needed orders signed.
Thinking was dangerous and led to regrets if you spent too much time doing so... and Robby had enough of those already.
And yet, his eyes kept finding you- across the department, at the nurses' station, walking down hallways, laughing at something Trinity Santos had said. He told himself it was just his fatherly subconscious making sure you were alright.
Every time he looked, you seemed a little more comfortable- more settled- like you were starting to accept that you belonged here
The realization should've made him happy. Instead, it mostly made his chest hurt. "You look constipated."
Robby didn't bother looking up, "Good afternoon, Jack. Back so soon?"
Abbott slid into the chair beside him. "Seriously. What's wrong with you?"
Robby gave him a look, but said nothing, resuming looking over the chart he was about to hand off to another med student. Jack nodded, "Right."
Robby continued charting. Abbott continued existing- an unfortunately persistent habit, from Robby's perspective
"You know Dana almost threw a stapler at you this morning."
"She threatens that weekly."
"This time she meant it." That finally earned a reluctant snort, causing Abbott's expression to soften slightly. "You know you really embarrassed her."
There it was. Robby's slight smile disappeared completely, and his jaw tightened. "I introduced her."
For a moment, he genuinely seemed to be waiting for more, as if perhaps Robby would hear himself and realize how ridiculous that sounded.
When nothing came, Jack sighed, "You embarrassed her."
"I was trying to be professional." The defense sounded weak and dismissive, even to his own ears.
Abbott's brows shot up. "You told the entire department she thinks she knows everything."
Robby instinctively straightened his posture, walls visibly growing higher in his attempt to defend. "I said she was smart."
"Then immediately followed it up with an insult."
Robby sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, "Jesus Christ."
"I'm serious."
"So am I." Abbott leaned back in his chair, and for a moment neither spoke. Across the department, Y/n was talking with Javadi. Something made her laugh, and the sound carried farther than it should've.
Robby looked away first. Abbott noticed, as he always did and took a deep breath before leaning in and mumbling to his best friend, "I mean, c'mon man."
Robby closed the chart, already regretting where this conversation was headed." When was the last time you even talked to her before she got back?"
"Oh, fuck off." The response came out sharper than intended. Robby immediately sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "...I talk to my goddamn daughter."
"Okay." Jack held up both hands in surrender; the gesture would've been a lot more convincing if his expression hadn't remained completely unchanged. Neither man looked away as the silence stretched between them, long enough to become uncomfortable.
Then Jack leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. "So when was the last time you saw her?"
The question landed harder than the last one. Robby's eyes flicked away instinctively, toward the nurses' station, then back toward the chart in front of him.
"'Cause most college kids come home for Thanksgiving." Robby's jaw flexed.
"Or winter break." His fingers tightened around the edge of his chair.
"Or the three months between school years for the summer." Abbott's voice remained calm and soft, nothing accusatory about it, which made Robby feel so much worse than if Jack had just yelled at him and called him an asshole.
"Why didn't she?" Robby immediately opened his mouth, ready this time with an explanation- An excuse. A defense. He always had one... But it didn't matter, because Abbott cut him off before he could get a word out.
"No, seriously." The teasing was entirely gone now. "Why haven't any of us seen her in six years?"
Robby felt something unpleasant twist in his stomach. Across the department, somebody called for a nurse, a monitor alarm chimed. The hospital kept running and neither acknowledged it in the moment
"The kid's studying her ass off to become a fucking doctor-" Jack shook his head. "And you're telling me she hasn't talked to any of us?"
The emphasis on us wasn't accidental; Robby knew that. "She was practically raised here, Michael."
The use of his first name made him finally look up to see that Abbott was watching him carefully now. Not angry, not even a little bit, just concerned. Which was always harder to stomach.
"You think we don't know her?" A painful silence hung for what felt like forever
"You think we don't know you?" The silence after that felt suffocating. Robby was once again the one to look away first. His hand dragged slowly over his face, the stubble scratched against his palm.
"I went to her graduation." The second the words left his mouth, he knew how weak they sounded. Abbott stared at him like he was waiting for the punchline.
"Robby." His voice was almost disbelieving. "Are you serious right now?"
"Yes," The answer came quicker than intended, immediate and defensive. "I'm being serious."
"That was over two years ago." Robby looked down, and Abbott sat back in his chair. The disappointment on his face somehow hurt worse than the frustration.
"You're telling me you haven't taken the time to check in on her in person?"
"She's in med school." Robby's voice rose slightly, more frustrated now than angry; more embarrassed than frustrated.
"That girl doesn't have any time for me." Abbott blinked slowly, mouth slightly agape as he furrowed his brows, like he'd just heard the dumbest thing imaginable.
"You don't think she'd make time?" The question lingered as neither of them spoke again. It was a bit strained, and Robby could tell Jack was using all his willpower not to bitch him out right then and there. The accusation sat plainly between them. Unavoidable.
"Or are you just assuming that because you wouldn't make time?"
Robby stood so abruptly that his chair rolled backward. "Alright."
He began heading down a decently empty hallway, and obviously, Jack followed, so he kept going,
"I've had enough of you talking to me like I'm some shitty father." Abbott immediately shook his head.
"No." His voice softened. He wasn't backing down, but he could see exactly where this was coming from. "You're not a shitty father, man."
Robby laughed bitterly, "Really?"
"You're not." Jack held his gaze. "But you're not there for her."
The words hit harder than anything else he'd said. It wasn't an insult, just an observation, a very painful one.
"How would you know?" Robby snapped, his voice echoing louder than intended.
"How do you know anything about my kid?" The question hung between them, and for a long moment, Abbott said nothing. Robby watched him inhale slowly and choose his words carefully. Deliberately, like a man trying not to make an injury worse.
"Because your kid spent a good chunk of her childhood hoping somebody would show up for her." Robby physically flinched, face scrunching up
"And because she's an adult now." Jack's voice remained calm, steady.
"A grown-ass adult who reaches out when she's struggling."
Abbot paused and then finished, "Clearly didn't get that from you."
Robby turned away immediately, hands still planted on his hips as he paced a small circle, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw working, trying to find an argument- something- anything.
But all he could think about was the fact that, of course, you still talked to Jack. Why wouldn't you? At some point over the last six years, Abbott had stopped being one of the people who helped raise you and become one of the people who actually knew you.
The realization hurt more than Robby cared to admit.
"The death of my dog, the stretch of my skin"
The high didn't last forever. You knew it wouldn't, but it was nice to ignore the potential of things getting bad again so soon.
The department had settled into a steady rhythm by late afternoon- busy enough that nobody was standing still, quiet enough that you could hear when someone was irritated.
You were reviewing labs when a familiar voice cut across the nurses' station. It wasn't super loud, not at first, but sharp enough to make you look up.
Samira stood at one of the computers, and your father stood across from her, his shoulders rigid, jaw set. You recognized the expression immediately, the one that usually meant somebody was about to have a very bad day.
Samira was speaking, trying to explain something. A patient. You caught bits and pieces. A consult. Delayed response. Change in status.
"No." The word landed hard enough that several people glanced over, including you.
Samira stopped talking, and you felt your own stomach tighten. "Dr. Robby-"
"No." His voice was louder now. Not yelling- not yet- but close. "That is the third time I've asked you the same question."
The entire workstation seemed to go still. Samira blinked once, "You asked-"
"I asked why nobody called me." The interruption came instantly. Ruthless, like he wasn't even listening.
Mohan took a slight breath before responding evenly, "I did call."
"No." Robby stepped forward. "You left a message."
Samira's jaw tightened. "You didn't answer."
"And somehow that translated into 'problem solved'?" The sarcasm dripped from every word. A few nurses exchanged looks, but nobody said anything. Nobody ever said anything. "You know better than that."
Samira opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "The patient was stable at the time."
"Until they weren't." His voice echoed louder than intended, several heads turned this time. The entire nurses' station suddenly became fascinated with their work. "You've been doing this long enough to know better."
Your chest tightened. You'd heard that sentence plenty of times before, word for word. Different context. Same Tone. Same disappointment disguised as anger.
Samira looked down briefly, collecting herself, the way people did when they were trying very hard not to react, then she nodded. "I understand."
"No." Robby laughed humorlessly, the sound making your stomach drop even more. "I don't think you do."
Silence. Heavy. Uncomfortable. Silence. The kind that settles over a room when everyone is pretending not to witness something.
Finally, Samira nodded again, a little stiffer this time. "Understood."
Robby stared at her for another second, then turned, already moving toward his next patient. Already done with the conversation, like he hadn't just ripped somebody apart in front of half the department.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, the tension lingered. But you didn't. You were up and moving before Trinity could even try to stop you.
You passed the nurse's station and heard Dana call out to you, a warning tone flooding her voice as she recognized the look on your face and that you were heading in the direction of your father.
You ignored her but spared Mohan a glance, seeing her stare silently at a computer screen while pretending she wasn't affected. You suddenly wondered how many other people had learned to absorb his anger the same way you had.
Which only made you walk faster toward your unassuming father.
"It's all washin' over me, I'm angry again"
You found him reviewing a chart outside one of the trauma bays, calm and focused, completely unbothered. The sight alone made your blood boil.
"Dr. Robinavitch." Robby looked up immediately. The tone of your voice had done its job, because for half a second, genuine concern flashed across his face.
"What's wrong?" You swallowed hard.
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" His eyes immediately scanned you, checking for panic, urgency, for some sort of sign that something had gone wrong with a patient. You gave him nothing and the silence stretched.
Then he nodded, taking a deep breath, "Yeah."
He handed the chart to a passing resident. "Let's go."
The walk to the call room was painfully quiet, every second giving you another opportunity to reconsider and back down.
Robby turned as soon as the door shut behind you, "What happened?"
The concern was still there, still expecting a medical problem or maybe even a patient gone rogue and something had happened to you, but he definitely wasn't expecting anything like this.
You folded your arms. "Why did you talk to Dr. Mohan like that?"
The concern vanished instantly as an almost eerie silence filled the room. Robby stared at you, and seeing as you were never one to back down, you stared back.
Slowly, his expression hardened. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." he let out a dry, humorless laugh, letting you know this conversation was going to be as productive as any other confrontation with him as ever been
"That's what this is about?" The disbelief in his voice only made you angrier, but you took a deep breath, knowing better at this point than to match his energy- especially not right off the bat.
"Yeah," You nodded. "That's what this is about."
Robby scoffed and looked away, like he couldn't believe he was having this conversation.
"We are in the middle of a shift." Your jaw tightened.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like the problem is me bringing something up instead of what actually happened." Robby laughed, short and humorless, once again. The same exact laugh that had made your stomach drop when he was standing over Samira.
"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." The words landed exactly the way he intended them to- dismissive, belittling, familiar. As if he was aiming to tranquilize you and end the conversation there.
Realistically, it should've ended there. You agreed with him slightly in that, yes, you were at work, and there were other things to focus on, but if he had time to publicly humiliate a doctor, he had time to be scorned for such.
You'd spent the last six years healing and growing out of your old habits, including reacting immediately and outrageously to someone who was clearly trying to get that emotion out of you. Your father was really the only person who did that, but you still managed to learn some patience for that sort of attitude, even while you were away from him
Your pulse quickened, and you took another deep breath to ensure that your voice would come out even and professional. "You absolutely berated Dr. Mohan just now."
"I corrected a resident."
"You humiliated her." Robby knew you were right, as you so often were. You sounded so much like Jack right now... This conversation was the second one he'd had today where he was being told off for being shitty toward people who were looking to him for guidance.
"No." His voice sharpened immediately. "I didn't."
"Half the department was staring at her-"
"Good." The answer came so quickly it stunned you. Robby stepped closer, not aggressively, but with the same intensity he used when teaching, or rather, making a point.
"Maybe next time she'll remember."
Your mouth fell open, the last of your newfound maturity and restraints slipping away, "Oh my God."
"What?" he spit out
"You think that's okay?"
"You think patient care is a joke?" The question hit like a slap. Suddenly, the conversation wasn't about Samira anymore- it was about competence. Or was it responsibility? Or maybe it was just another thing of authority. All things Robby could always weaponize when cornered.
You closed your eyes and took the deepest breath you could imagine, knowing this would be the last one if this conversation didn't end here and now. "No one said that."
"Then stop acting like I screamed at her for fun." You took a step forward, finally starting to match his irritation and intensity, "You really think that's what I'm saying?"
"Honestly?" Robby threw his hands up with a slight shrug. "Yeah."
The word echoed in the tiny room. "You walked in here because you saw thirty seconds of an interaction, and suddenly you're an expert on how I treat my staff."
You laughed, the sound holding no humor whatsoever, finally catching up to your father in mood. "An expert? Seriously?"
"You don't know the patient." Robby shook his head, glaring down at the floor.
"You don't know the context." He glanced up at you as he began stalking toward you, keeping his chin lowered but his gaze holding yours. It was a familiar intimidation tactic that you'd grown immune to
"You don't know what happened." His voice grew sharper with every sentence. And even though you knew better than to let him get to you, suddenly you were sixteen again, standing in a kitchen trying desperately to be heard.
"You cannot just walk in here and talk to me however you like." The volume finally rose, not quite yelling yet, but getting close to it.
"I know you think you got away with that shit when you were younger, but that is absolutely NOT going to fly here." You tried to keep your face neutral, knowing the fire in your eyes was already giving too much away, but you couldn't hold back the flinch as he barked his denial at you.
This wasn't Dr. Robby talking to a medical student. Not an attending talking to a colleague. It was a father talking to a child.
You felt even more infuriated as your vision blurred with anger, humiliated that he still had this effect on you, but even more so that you thought he might've changed. I mean, you had- so what was stopping him from doing the same? What was stopping him from becoming better?
"Wow." You breathed out. Robby crossed his arms with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, spare me."
"No." You shook your head, hands coming up in defense, disbelief racking your heart. "No, that's actually insane."
"What is? That I won't let you-" You cut him off before he could accuse you of something else
"No- That you still do... this." You gestured wildly between the two of you. His brow furrowed. "Do what?"
"That... thing where you decide nobody else could possibly know what they're talking about. That I couldn't possibly understand anything you do or why you do it." Robby rolled his eyes, the motion making your blood pressure spike.
"You think I'm shitting on you for fun?" The words burst out before you could stop them. "You absolutely berated Dr. Mohan just now! And for what? Huh??"
Robby opened his mouth, but you didn't let him. "She was trying to explain herself!"
And just like he carried on before, you followed suit "She was giving you an answer."
Your tone rose, but never your volume. You'd learned that being loud doesn't mean being right very early on. "She was talking to you like a professional, and you talked over her every single chance you got!"
The room fell silent, both of you breathing harder now, neither willing to back down, neither willing to leave. Somewhere beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, beneath the years of resentment, you realized this stopped being about Samira a long time ago.
"You think I'm the bad guy here?" Robby asked incredulously. You stared at him, neither answering nor looking away. He shook his head, "You've been here one day."
He had one hand on his hip, the other lifting a finger to be in your face, a gesture so familiar it made your stomach turn.
"One day." The emphasis hit exactly where he intended.
"You don't know these people.- you don't know how this department works." You felt your jaw tighten. Strike two.
"You. Don't. Know. What. You. Are. Talking. About." There it was, the final blow. He punctuated every single word, spelling it like for you like were stupid.
The silence stretched between you, and something in your expression changed. Robby saw it immediately- the anger disappeared, replaced by something colder. You looked tired
You nodded once, slowly, "Okay..."
The single word caught him off guard. Your arms dropped from where they'd been crossed over your chest, the fight leaving your posture entirely, "Okay."
"Y/n-"
"Nope." You shook your head, not even angry anymore. You took a step backward toward the door. "Forget it."
Robby frowned as he watched you reach for the door handle.
"Have a good shift, Dr. Robby."
The title hit harder than it should have. You pulled the door open, and this time, when you walked away, you didn't look back.
"The things that I lost here, the people I knew, they got me surrounded for a mile or two"
By the time you made it back to the rest of the department, the anger had settled into something heavier. Something sat deep in your chest and followed you around until something else could occupy your mind.
Like anyone else in this place, you threw yourself back into work because that's all you could do, Patient after patient. Chart after chart. Anything to keep your brain occupied.
It worked for the most part- at least until Dana appeared beside you. You didn't notice her appearance, only the coffee she set down next to your workstation. You glanced up, but she didn't look at you. She didn't ask any questions. Didn't make a scene. She simply slid into the empty chair beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds.
"You know-" Dana clicked through a chart, "I almost let Jack follow you."
A humorless huff of air escaped through your nose before you could stop it. "That would've been a disaster."
"That's what I said." The corner of her mouth twitched before you looked back down at the computer. The brief moment of amusement disappeared as quickly as it came. Dana finally glanced over and watched you for a second.
You could tell she was staring, trying to gauge whether or not you were going to react poorly to her checking in on you. You rarely did, but sometimes your father's habits showed through you as well, and you got a bit of an attitude.
"You don't need to hover, ya know." Dana quirked an eyebrow and tilted her chin slightly at that, not that you saw it. "I'm an adult. And not only that, I am also a professional, and I don't need you making sure my life is perfectly in shape any time I have a less-than-pleasant moment."
Her jaw dropped slightly, a bit taken aback by your avoidance and attempt at putting distance between you. She let out an exasperated laugh and shook her head. The audacity this kid has... just like her father... Dana looked back at her screen, the amused quirk of her lip still lingering as she allowed a few moments of silence to pass.
"How bad was it?" The question was gentle, carefully and particularly delivered, knowing exactly how to talk to you after years of trying to get you to trust her... you were too similar to your father in so many ways.
You swallowed, "Not bad enough to be memorable."
Dana hummed, the sound alone telling you she didn't believe that for a second.
You stared at your computer, then glanced over at the patient board. It was too far away to read the names clearly, but you needed to look at something that wouldn't leave her in your line of sight. Eventually you sighed.
"He hasn't changed." The words felt stupid the second they left your mouth. Childish, even, and you knew that. Dana's expression softened immediately, which only made you feel worse
You rubbed at your eyes, frustrated and embarrassed, angry at yourself for caring. "I don't know."
You laughed quietly. "I think that's the part that's bothering me."
Dana stayed silent, letting you find your own words. "I spent so much time away... so much time working on myself..."
You shook your head, the admission coming easier than expected. Your brows furrowed as you bit your cheek. "I worked my ass off."
Dana nodded once, because she knew- everyone knew.
"I learned how to communicate better..." You stared at the floor. "How to let things go, how to stop picking fights-"
Another bitter laugh escaped. "At least most of the time."
That finally earned a small smile from Dana, only for it to disappear a second later as you continued, "And I think..."
You paused, trying to organize the feeling, to make it make sense of it. "I think some stupid part of me thought he'd have done the same thing."
The painfully honest words hung between you. Dana's face fell, knowing exactly where you were coming from. She shrugged, the understanding tone seeping through her voice, "You wanted him to grow, too."
You nodded, the movement was barely noticeable. "Yeah..."
You hated how your voice cracked slightly- even acknowledging it within yourself made your nose sting with emotion. "Yeah."
Dana reached over and squeezed your shoulder, firm and grounding. The same way she had when you were fifteen. The same way she had when you were twenty-one. The same way she always would.
"Sweetheart." The nickname nearly broke you. You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath, unable to meet her eyes, or else it would be the end of your well held compuser.
"You can't do somebody else's growing for them." You lowered your head immediately, jaw clenching. Dana squeezed your shoulder again. "You hear me?"
You nodded. Neither of you said anything for a moment. Across the department, someone laughed, a monitor alarm sounded, a stretcher rolled past. Life kept moving. The emergency department always did.
Her chair squeaked as Dana finally stood. "You done being sad?"
A surprised laugh escaped you. "What?"
"You get five more minutes- go take a lap." Dana pointed at the clock. "Then I need my favorite med student back."
You rolled your eyes, a smile threatening despite yourself. "Favorite?"
"Don't tell Javadi." That earned a real laugh. The first bit of relaxation you've felt since you'd walked out of that call room. Dana smiled, satisfied with herself, then headed back toward the nurses' station, leaving you with your coffee and your thoughts. You let your head fall to rest on your folded arms, giving yourself a moment to actually breathe and shut your brain off.
"You look like shit." You glanced up. Frank stood beside the workstation, hands shoved into the pockets of his scrub jacket. The sight of him alone made something in your chest loosen.
"Wow."
"You do." He pulled the empty chair beside you closer and sat down. "Dana said you disappeared."
You looked back at your coffee. "Dana needs a hobby."
Frank hummed, the sound telling you he wasn't buying it, not even a little. Neither of you spoke for a moment until Frank finally nudged your shoulder.
"Hey." You looked over. "We're happy you're back, y'know."
The words caught you off guard. Frank shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world before adding on, "All of us."
"Yeah." Your voice came out quieter than intended as you lowered your gaze to the paperwork in front of you. Frank's expression softened slightly.
"One bad conversation doesn't change that." You swallowed, looking down at your hands. "Especially with Robby."
"I know." Frank let the silence sit. He'd always been good at that, never rushing you, never forcing you to talk before you were ready. Eventually, he stood with an exhaled breath.
"Good." He reached over and squeezed your shoulder once as he passed behind you. "Now quit sulking."
A tired laugh escaped you despite yourself. "Thanks, Frankie."
"Anytime, kid." And just like that, he was gone again, back to work, leaving you feeling a little less alone than you had five minutes ago.
"The car's in reverse, I'm grippin' the wheel"
Across the ED, Robby watched you, his daughter, laugh at something Langdon had said. The sight should've been reassuring, but he was sure you hadn't been made aware of Langdon's leave of absence a bit ago and how it had put a strain on their relationship for a while. Or maybe you had known- maybe Frank confided in you in the way you seemed to do so with him during dark times. Things were better now, for the most part, but it shouldn't have mattered.
Instead, the sight made Robby's stomach twist. You looked at him that same way once, years ago. Before every conversation, somehow became an argument. Before phone calls became shorter. Before holidays became excuses. Before six years passed without him realizing just how much more of her life he'd missed.
Jack had been standing beside him for several minutes before either of them spoke, neither particularly eager to revisit the conversation from earlier. Unfortunately for Robby, it was impossible not to. Every time he caught sight of you across the department, he remembered the look on your face when you walked out of that call room.
"You know," Abbott finally spoke, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you disappear around a corner with Javadi and Santos, "for a doctor who's kinda known for being so observant, you are terrible at reading your own kid."
Robby scoffed, but there wasn't much conviction behind it.
"I know." The admission came quieter than intended. Jack glanced over and Robby was already looking away, back toward the floor.
The truth was, he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do now. An apology felt inadequate- embarrassingly so. Like trying to patch a bullet hole with a bandaid.
Years didn't disappear because you said sorry. Trust didn't magically come back because you finally realized you'd screwed up. And Robby had spent most of the afternoon realizing exactly how badly he'd screwed up.
Robby dropped his head into his hands, staying there for a moment with his eyes closed. He took a deep breath before lifting his gaze back up to take in the chaos of the ED. Then released it, shaking his head with a huff.
"God..." His fingers rubbed across his forehead. "She's just like her mother."
Abbott immediately let out a noise somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "Oh, bullshit."
Robby glanced over, and Jack was already grinning. He pointed toward where you'd disappeared. "She may look exactly like her mom, but that is your daughter, Michael."
The grin widened. "To a fucking T, man."
Despite himself, Robby laughed, short and tired, moderately defeated. He hated how right Abbot was, and that realization didn't actually solve anything.
"I'm back between villages and everything's still"
By the end of the shift, you were hurting in most ways possible- your feet hurt, your back hurt, your brain hurt, and more dramatically, your heart hurt.
You'd spent the better part of twelve hours running around the emergency department, trying to learn names, remember protocols, impress attendings, and avoid thinking too hard about the argument that had nearly derailed your entire day. And for the most part, you'd succeeded.
The department had begun its nightly transition- day shift filtering out, patients still arriving, monitors still chiming. You stood at one of the workstations, finishing your final note on your chart, as the cursor blinked lazily on the screen. You stared at it for several seconds before finally signing off.
A strange mix of relief and disappointment settled in your chest- your first shift was over. You leaned back in your chair and glanced around the department. Dana was arguing with Jack about something (probably the fact that he's been here way longer than any mentally stable person would be). Princess was laughing with Mateo. Perlah was giving a report. Langdon was halfway through telling Mel some sort of story as they'd begun to head toward the lockers.
Everything looked normal, like today hadn't changed anything, and maybe it hadn't.
A familiar figure caught your attention across the department- your father, reviewing a chart, the same way he had been all day. For a moment, your eyes lingered, and as if sensing it, Robby looked up.
The distance between you wasn't very far, twenty feet, maybe less, but after six years and your interactions throughout the day, it might as well have been an ocean.
Neither of you smiled nor waved, you didn't move a muscle. The memory of the call room still sat heavily between you, and eventually, Robby looked away first, returning his attention to the chart in front of him. You swallowed, then looked away too.
The shift was over. But the conversation wasn't, and you knew this was about to be a lot harder than any other rotation you'd been on up until this point.
You gathered your things quietly, dropping your stethoscope into your bag and slipping on your jacket, trying not to dwell on the ache in your chest.
"See you tomorrow, hon." You looked up. Dana stood beside you, already smiling. It's like she could read your mind (at this point, you wouldn't be surprised if she actually could) and tell you were irrationally contemplating moving back.
Tomorrow.
You'd be back tomorrow. Back with Dana. Back with Frank. Back with Samira. Back with Santos. Back with Javadi. Back with patients. All of it... Including him.
The realization was simultaneously comforting and terrifying. A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah. See you tomorrow."
You slung your bag over your shoulder, then you headed toward the exit. The automatic doors slid open, and the cool evening air met your skin immediately. The doors slid shut behind you, and somewhere inside the emergency department, life carried on.
The hospital room was quiet in a strange, suspended way. Machines humming softly, the city muted outside the window. Angie laid propped up against soft white pillows, exhausted in a way she'd never felt before. Her body ached, her head felt foggy, and yet her chest was so full she thought it might crack open.
Sophia slept against her, impossibly small, swaddled tight and warm. Her face was pink and scrunched, mouth twitching like she was dreaming of something important.
Angie couldn't stop staring.
Mikey hovered nearby, useless in a way only love could make someone. He'd washed his hands three times already, paced the room twice, sat down and stood back up like the chair had personally offended him. Now he stood beside the bed, eyes locked on their daughter like she might disappear if he blinked too long.
"She real?" he asked quietly.
Angie smiled softly. "She's been real for nine months, babe."
"Yeah, but..." He hesitated, voice cracking just a little. "She was inside you. Now she's... here." He held out his finger, hesitating before brushing it against Sophia's tiny hand. Her fingers curled around his, gripping him with surprising strength. "Oh my God," he whispered. "She grabbed me."
Angie let out an exhausted laugh. "Congratulations. You're trapped forever."
He looked at her then, really looked. Her locs were messy, face puffy, eyes red from crying and had bags under them from the lack of sleep. And she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"You okay?" he asked, suddenly serious, his hand coming up to softly stroke her cheek. "You scared the shit outta me."
"I know," she said gently. "I'm okay. We're okay."
He nodded, but his jaw tightened anyway. "I couldn't do anything. I just stood there. They kept sayin' push and breathe and I'm thinkin', what if I can't protect you from this?"
Angie reached for his wrist, attempting to comfort him. "You were there. That's all I needed."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, careful not to bump Sophia. "I swear to God," he murmured, "I'm gonna do right by her. By both of you."
"I know you will." Angie said, without hesitation as she kissed his cheek. "I know you will."
🤍
"That was such a crazy fucking shift." Angie groaned and rubbed her head as she sat on the office desk.
Richie set down a cup of water next to her and kissed her cheek. "You were a machine out there."
"I'm too old and tired to be a machine."
"Hush. You killed that shit."
She chuckled softly. "Thanks. So did you."
"Where's Soph?"
"Spending the night at her classmate's house."
"DD still not talking to you?"
Angie shook her head before standing up and heading over to the lockers. "Not since opening night."
"You know how she gets." He opened up his locker and took his things out. "She'll come around." He looked at his phone and furrowed his brows. "What the fuck?"
"What?"
"Sugar's in labor."
Angie quickly reached for her phone and saw the multiple missed calls and texts. "Holy shit. She called me like ten fucking times." She dialed Natalie's number, eventually getting sent to voicemail. "Fuck. Pete's not here. She's all alone, Richie. We gotta go to the hospital."
"How do you know which one she's at?"
"I have everyone's location."
"You do?"
"Uh huh. Come on."
🤍
Angie and Richie walked through the elevator doors into the hallway, breathless from the adrenaline, still smelling faintly like garlic, grease, and the long shift they'd just survived. The fluorescent lights were too bright compared to the night outside, making everything feel surreal.
Standing in the hall outside of Natalie's room was Neil, Ted, and the face of a woman Angie hadn't seen in a while.
"DD."
The older woman looked up at her daughter in law and hesitantly went to hug her. "Angelina." She embraced her. "Hi, honey."
Angie hugged her back for a moment before pulling away. "How's Nat?"
"Oh, she's wonderful. She was so strong."
She nodded. "Of course she was."
There was months of unspoken words between them. Before Donna could break the silence first, the two brothers approached.
"Do you think Nat's okay in there?" Neil asked. "I heard her yell."
"Yeah, pushing a human outta your vagina will make that happen, honey."
"I'm glad DD came." Ted chimed in. "She would've been all alone."
"I dunno how she went into labor without any of us knowing." Richie shrugged. "She was in the office the whole time.
"Nuh uh. She went to get c folds."
"What?"
"She went to get-"
"I heard what you said." Angie replied to him. "Why the hell would she go to get c folds?"
"We were out."
"So you let her go alone? Nine months pregnant?"
The brothers paused and looked at each other.
"Maybe that wasn't a good idea."
"Yeah, it was a terrible fucking idea."
The door clicked as Pete walked out with a big yet tired grin on his face. "Hey, guys." He said softly.
"Pete!" Angie hugged him. "You made it back."
"Yeah, just in time." He ran his hand down his face. "You wanna come in?"
"Yeah." She looked back at Richie.
"I'll go later. Go ahead."
She nodded before stepping inside the room. She gently shut the door behind her as she warmly smiled at her friend.
"You're here." Nat said with a tired smile.
"Of course I'm here." She sat on the side of the bed. "How are you?"
"I'm okay. What time is it?"
"A little after midnight."
"You must be exhausted." She whimpered softly as she scooted over. "Come lie down."
"Careful, Sug. I'm fine."
"I already moved over."
Angie rolled her eyes and gently laid her head on the pillow, turning her body to face Natalie. "Happy?"
"Mhm." She nodded.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here, Nat."
"It's okay." Her eyes shut for a moment. "I did it."
Angie chuckled softly and brushed some of Nat's sweaty hair from her face. "You did. I'm so proud of you."
The blonde opened her eyes. "Do you wanna hold her?"
Angie quickly stood up and headed to the sink to wash her hands. "I was waiting for you to ask."
Natalie chuckled and turned to pick up the baby from the clear bassinet. She was so small swaddled in the hospital blanket. She had a small tuft of blonde hair sticking out from her beanie.
Angie dried her hands and sat on the bed again, carefully taking the infant into her arms. "Hey." She whispered. "Look at you. You look just like your mama. Pretty girl."
"I'm obsessed with her."
"How couldn't you be? What's her name?"
Nat looked down at her fidgeting fingers with hesitation. "Well..."
"What? You named her, right?"
"No, yeah, we named her. It's just...."
"Just what?" Her gaze stayed fixed on the baby girl in her arms.
"Sophie. We named her Sophie."
Angie looked up at her friend and chuckled. "No you didn't."
"We did...."
"Like...as a middle name?"
"No."
"Well, what do you mean? 'Cause I have a Sophia. Sophie as is my Sophia?"
"Now I feel stupid."
"No, no, no. I'm just tryna understand. Her name is Sophie?"
"You hate it."
"I don't. I love it. That's kinda why I picked it."
"Well, I always loved that name, but when you had Sophia, I didn't really think about it anymore because I never thought I'd have a baby. But when I found out she was a girl, I tried really hard to love another name."
"But you couldn't."
"I couldn't. And right after I gave birth, they asked me what the name was, and it just came out."
Angie sighed and leaned her head on the blonde's shoulder. "It's a beautiful name."
"You're not mad?"
"No. I think I'm just gonna have to get used to it."
"Sophia's gonna like it."
"Sophia's gonna love it."
"Thank you for coming."
"You kidding?" She looked down at the infant. "I wouldn't miss this for anything."
A few short moments later, there was a soft knock at the door. Neil peeked his head in and smiled.
"Can we see the baby?"
Nat gave him a gentle nod. "Of course, sweetie."
Not one second later, he opened the door wide as Ted and Richie followed him.
Angie gave the baby back to her mother and headed towards the door. "Please make sure they wash their hands." She whispered to Richie. "With soap."
"On it." He patted her shoulder as she walked out, shutting the door behind her.
Donna looked up from her phone and walked closer to her daughter in law. "Angelina."
"Where's Pete?"
"Oh, he needed coffee. And ice chips for Sugar."
"Yeah, they got the good ice here."
The older woman gestured to the plastic chairs at the end of the hall. "Can we talk?"
Angie scoffed. "Now you wanna talk?"
"Please, honey. Just let me explain."
She hesitated for a few moments before nodding and sitting beside her mother in law. "Okay."
"I know I didn't answer the phone. I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like I was ignoring you."
"DD, you've been my mother for twenty years. You were my mother before Mikey and I were together, and you stayed my mother after he died. You are...a lot. But I love you."
"I love you too."
"When you stopped talking to me, it just felt like someone else in my life was leaving."
"Honey, I'm sorry." She grabbed the younger woman's hands. "I didn't go to opening night or talk to you because I was embarrassed."
A look of confusion fell upon Angie's face. "Embarrassed? About what?"
"Me." She chuckled softly. "I'm a mess. And you guys had made something good. I didn't wanna fuck that up."
Angie squeezed DD's hands. "DD, we would've wanted you there anyway. I wanted you there."
A slow tear fell down her cheek. "You did?”
"Yeah." She nodded. "I don't care how difficult things may be between us. I will always want you in my life."
The women hugged and softly chuckled as they wiped their eyes.
summary: your relationship with your father had always been less than ideal since you were a kid. too much emotional weight on a child and not enough support from the adult supposed to be taking care of her. robby thought you were just an easy kid, but he didn't seem to realize that you are in fact his daughter, even as you constantly remind him of such
warnings/tags: Michael Robinavitch... your daughter is your carbon copy and YOU are the reason, angst, daddy issues, platonic/father-daughter relationship, Robby slander (sorry to his three fans), not proofread
wc: 5.6k
notes: this is the first part of a series/oneshot collection i'm working on, so please bear with me... it's not as fleshed out as I initially wanted it to be, but then I actually thought about how many parts this series was gonna be and realized it would be okay lol
"You always went looking for an easy way out"
When your parents first got divorced, you were still fairly young, so it didn't really make sense. It broke your little heart, regardless, because all you knew was that your parents wouldn't be in the same place, and even though you already didn't see your dad much, now you really wouldn't be seeing him.
Michael Robinavitch wasn't initially a bad father, just a busy one. One who was still learning how to fight his own demons and balance his life out. He made the effort to show up to your events, rarely missing one, and when he did, he'd make it up to you with ice cream and a movie.
You loved both your parents equally, but some would say you were definitely a daddy's girl. You craved his attention more than anything, since it was such a rare gift, and you cherished every second he used to spend doting on you.
But divorce changes people, regardless of how detached they may or may not be.
Robby's attendance became less and less over the years, with the excuse of work being present every time. It really only started bothering you when he began dating Janey, and suddenly he wasn't so busy at the hospital.
Suddenly, he couldn't come to your softball game because he was at Jake's baseball game. Or he couldn't make your award ceremony because he was taking Jake to a concert. Or he couldn't pick you up from your friend's house because he was having dinner with Janey and Jake- with his new family.
You tried to be mature about it, thinking that might win back your father's attention if you stayed an easy child. You told yourself you understood why he was running away from his responsibility as your father- that it was because you just reminded him too much of your mother, and it made sense that he didn't want to be reminded of her. But eventually you realized how unfair it was for you to be punished for your parents' failed marriage, and the resentment started to fester.
"Leave the pain you can't solve with the folks you let down"
You know exactly why he is the way he is. It's the same reason why you are the way you are. The type of darkness that courses through you is one that consumes far too many people on a daily.
Your mother died when you were about thirteen, forcing you to go back to relying on your father. He made no fuss about it to you, at least not to your face, at least not for a while...
You saw him more now that you lived together again, but he was always gone before you even woke up for school and came back sometimes as you were already in bed. You were an easy kid- you made all your meals on your own, making sure there were leftovers for Robby to take to work, even if he forgot them, or never got around to eating them, or Janey already packed him a lunch. You kept your spaces clean and didn't leave mess behind you. You got good grades and were involved in school. You somehow got yourself everywhere you needed to be without ever asking Robby for help.
He was so consumed with his own battles that he never took a moment to consider how much harder yours could've been hitting you. All Robby saw was a young girl who seemed to be handling grief much better than anyone could imagine, and he ran with that...
Sometimes you really felt like your father didn't care about you at all, and that he was just a depressed middle-aged man with control issues and a lack of self-awareness. So you confided in the people closest to him in an attempt to learn more and try to understand why your father seemed to want nothing to do with you.
Jack Abbot was a man you had already grown up with in your life, long before your father became absent, so that made it easy when you began reaching out to him for things instead of Robby. Did it absolutely break Abbot's heart? 1000%. Did he tear Robby a new one as soon as he figured out what was going on? Abso-fucking-lutely.
"And you tell yourself lies, and disguise them as facts"
Michael Robinavitch didn't start considering he was a shitty father until you were 15. That's when you began to lash out-
The first time you ever argued with your father was over a sleepover. Your friend was having a birthday party, and for what seemed like the first time ever, you asked your father to drive you to get her a present and then take you to her house. He released some sort of overly dramatic sigh and groan before complaining about being tired and not wanting to leave the house again.
Robby had been completely unaware of your festering resentment toward him until you snapped. "You seriously can't just help me this one time?"
He immediately sat up, snapping his genuine, confused gaze to you, "excuse me?"
"I never ask you for anything- I never ask you to take me anywhere- and I understand you work hard and are tired, but I just need help doing this one thing, and you won't even do that for me?" Robby was genuinely flabbergasted at your outburst. You'd never reacted like this to anything; it felt so out of left field.
You'd never been spoiled in your whole life, never acted as such, but suddenly that felt like the most fitting insult Robby could throw at you, deflecting his responsibilities as not only your father, but as a mature adult in general. It escalated rapidly into a screaming match, ending with you in tears and him simmering with rage and astonishment- both of you wallowing in the new low you've reached as individuals and within your relationship.
That became the pattern. You'd question him at the wrong time, and he'd get snippy- or the other way around- which would result in more sarcastic jabs that got escalated into full insults, both of you too stubborn to back down from anything. It always ended with Robby pulling some sort of parent-card or saying something about respect and authority, and you walking away, pushing back tears because you just desperately wanted to be seen and understood by your father.
Robby just didn't get it... You had nice clothes, a beautiful house, and he'd even bought you a car for your 16th birthday! You never had to worry about affording anything you needed, and it didn't make any sense to Robby why you couldn't seem to grasp that concept, no matter how many times you argued over it.
Even about a year and a half later, when he actually realized he was a shitty father, it didn't change much. In fact, it probably got worse because of the emotional whiplash he was causing you.
He would scream at you after telling you to watch your tone when speaking to him. He would escalate what should've been a simple conflict resolution into full-blown arguments, accusing you of being the most disrespectful child anyone could imagine because you questioned his logic.
But then he would occasionally make something he knew you liked for dinner and would ask you to watch movies with him if he got home early enough. Or he'd spend part of his day off with you at the market downtown, enjoying the rare moment of peace where you were actually able to joke and laugh with each other.
Both types of moments made you bawl your eyes out when they ended. You weren't the best at hiding your tears from your dad- you were typically able to hold them off until he threw a direct insult at you, shattering your hopes that maybe this time he'd see your point. But you also frequently clocked how quickly you got misty-eyed while smiling with your dad over the smallest things, because you wished for nothing more than to have more moments like that with him.
You felt like you were dealing with a shitty toxic relationship, the way you would think, "when it's good, it's so good- but when it's bad..."
"It'll hurt half as much if you drive twice as fast"
You always understood that Robby worked very hard and did a lot to make sure you were well off, which is why there's a constant underlying guilt any time you argue with him.
As if your needs not being met made you a terrible daughter, and the thought of even mentioning needing something he hadn't already provided made you sick with anxiety. Which you of course overthought because you were too self-aware for your own good.
"I don't think I should have to feel like this... he's my dad for fuck's sake-"
"Language..." Dana chided, though she didn't care that much, already used to your father's foul mouth. "But you're absolutely right- you shouldn't feel guilty for wanting your dad to be around more."
"But i understand he's busy so like... I don't know" you tried to defend but ended up shrugging sadly and putting as your rested your head on your hand, leaning on the nurse's counter. Dana peered up at you over her glasses and sighed, stepping out from behind the desk.
She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and squeezed you against her, "Sweetheart, your father has always been a busy man, but you and i both know he's very capable of making time for people, so don't sell yourself short."
You had shown up to PTMC early one Thursday morning as a last-minute attempt to ask your father to accompany you on a college visit in a couple of weeks. He had already said no to the last few because of work, including the one you were leaving for later that day, all by yourself.
As if you summoned him with your daughterly yearning, Robby appeared around the corner, seemingly shocked to see you. It wasn't unusual for you to show up at the Pitt, but it was odd for you to show up unannounced.
He took in your anxious stature and Dana's hovering and picked up his pace as he made his way over to you.
"Hey, honey, what're you doing here? You alright?" Robby placed a hand on your shoulder as he glanced over you, making sure there weren't any immediate medical concerns- a habit he's had since you were little.
"Hi, Dad... I'm good." you reassured softly, but your anxiety seeped through, and your words did very little to actually ease your father's mind. He cocked his head slightly, obviously not believing you, but not in the mood to fight it.
"What's up? Why are you here? You never show up without telling me first." you opened your mouth to answer, but paused, glancing at Dana. Robby clocked this immediately and started to grow impatient as his own anxiety began to spike
"Y/n. Why are you here?"
"It's nothing- really- I should've just... I should've just texted you." Your voice died off at the end, breathy and nervous, as your gaze fell to the floor. Robby scoffed, glancing away for a moment with his hands on his hips.
"Alright, so then what is it?" his impatience showing through his rapidly increasing irritation. You watched him get more and more antsy as the seconds passed. His shift from concern to irritation initiated the change in your own demeanor. Your body tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, closing yourself off even more than you already had been.
You cleared your throat to fight off the tightness that suddenly appeared, "I need to confirm whether or not I'm bringing a parent or guardian with me to Cornell for my visit in two weeks..."
Robby rubbed a hand down his face and sighed, looking around, "That's it?"
Your lips parted slightly in disbelief, then you bit your cheek and nodded, "Yeah, Dad, that's it. So are you coming or not?"
His irritation manifested physically in the way he shifted and huffed, "Y/n... you know how hard it for me to get out of here, especially for more than a day-"
You took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then exhaling with a nod. A frown pulled at your lips as you attempted to push back tears.
"Okay..." you hovered for a moment, then sighed, "well, I won't see you until Monday then..."
"Where are you going?"
"Omaha... Clarkson? That's the school I'm visiting this weekend"
"You're driving all the way there by yourself??"
"Well, yeah... Abbot and Dana don't have that many days off in a row so I'm just going by myself-"
"wait- what do Abbot and Dana have to do with this? Why wouldn't you ask me?"
"Uhm... I did ask you... you said the same thing." you pursed your lips awkwardly, hating that this conversation was happening in the middle of the ED.
Robby reeled slightly and shook his head, "That never happened- I wouldn't have just said no to taking you on a college visit"
"I mean, you told me you couldn't take off work so like- I get it..." he shook his head more profudely this time, holding up a hand to pause you,
"We'll talk more about this later." he gave you a stern look before turning to walk off. Your brows furrowed as you called back out to him, "No, we won't... I'm leaving right from here."
Your father whipped back around, pausing in his tracks before storming back up to you, trying to seem as composed as possible before whispering harshly
"This is not a decision you get to make- you can't just up and leave the state on your own- you're a kid!"
"No one else was gonna take me and it had to get done... can't you just yell at me when i get back, or at least over the phone when I'm already there?" Robby's eyes widened, absolutely blown away by your tired response and audacity.
"You think I'm kidding right now, y/n? This isn't a fucking joke- you are not driving yourself halfway across the country- absolutely not. That is final." he turned and stormed back off to his next patient, avoiding the actual responsibility of parenting you.
Your turned, glaring at him over your shoulder and leaving in the other direction. You nearly shoulder-checked Dana as you moved through the ED, throwing her a somber "see ya next week, Dana- I'll make sure to send you pictures..." as she considered following you out and discouraging you from going- not to ruin your trip, but to save you from whatever heartache your father will cause because of it.
You cried most of the way there and drove much faster than you definitely should've. Maybe your father was right in the sense that you shouldn't have driven alone- clearly not reliable enough to drive safely, but at the end of the day, why would you listen to your hypocrite of a father anyway?
And boy, were you in the most trouble you'd ever been in when Robby realized you'd left anyway. Of course, it wasn't until about day three into your trip, when you were packing up to come home, that he realized, furthering your upsetment, thus making the inevitable argument ten times worse when it all played out.
"Look at you go, crossin' state lines with your shadow"
You can't believe it took multiple years for Robby to realize you'd been asking Abbot and Dana to fill in for things he should've been doing. But when the truth did come to light- it was practically like a nuclear bomb went off in your home.
You felt guilty, of course you did, because at some point you did just stop asking him to do things with you. Jack took you on weekend trips to different states for tournaments, college visits, and concerts- posted about all of it like you were his kid. Dana helped you pick out dresses for all your school dances, and would show up to your school events right from her shift if she was able to make it in time.
Fuck, even Heather Collins put in more effort to be active in your life, and she had only been dating your dad for a little less than a year by the time you left for college.
The dread and anxiety that flooded your nervous system one random tuesday during your senior year of high school, honestly, should've been enough to send you into a catatonic state.
You'd called Abbot to ask if he was still coming to your senior night, and the sigh he let out was enough to scare you. He never cancelled on you; he made sure of it. But you would've rather him cancelled then tell you what he did insetad
"Yeah, I'll be there, sweetheart... why didn't you tell your dad though?" there was silence on your end for a few seconds as you felt your heart squeeze
"...cuz I already knew he wouldn't come" you heard him breathe out a soft sigh
"C'mon kid, that's not fair... you didn't even give him a chance-"
"he's had years worth of chances, Jack... my dad's not coming." you hadn't said in a definitive way that came across as "i don't want him there", but rather a bit watery and reading as "i know how he is, he's not gonna show up".
"Well, I told him I would meet him there, and he had no clue what I was talking about... actually seemed pretty hurt when I explained it to him..." and of course, you felt guiltier than any child should have to feel in regards to their own parent.
You were filled with anxiety as you stood next to your teammates. You remember scanning the crowd to look for Jack, now expecting to see your father there with him. Abbot was about three rows in with his old camera old, ready to record, with Dana and Heather sitting next to him. You managed a small smile seeing them all together, but immediately felt your throat tighten up once you realized Robby was missing.
The announcer called out your name and your plans for after high school, and the entire PTMC support team stood and cheered as loudly as possible, almost making you forget the absence of the person you needed there most.
They wanted to take you out to dinner afterwards, but you insisted on going home, especially since Abbot still had to get to his shift and Dana and Heather hadn't been home since at least 5 am. You made it home and thanked them for getting you flowers and for just being there in general.
You walked in to see Robby in the kitchen, working over the stove. The house smelled like something familiar and savory, and it would be comforting, had you not felt like you were walking on eggshells from the minute you stepped out of the car.
You toed off your shoes and let your bag fall onto the armchair near the door, eyeing the figure ahead of you, "I'm home."
Robby glanced over his shoulder briefly before returning to whatever he was cooking, "Hey, kid... how was the game?"
You wandered into the kitchen and leaned on the counter behind him, hovering like you were waiting for him to blow up on you, "It was good... we won, so..."
"that's good..." he glanced back at you again, "I'm just finishing up some rice. Chicken's staying warm in the oven right now."
You hummed and nodded, fingers tapping against the countertop. Robby put the lid on the pot of rice and fully turned to face you. You both looked guilty and anxious as you stared at the floor and he stared at you.
Robby cleared his throat and sniffed, "Why didn't you ask me to come?"
There was more silence as you spared him a quick glance before flitting your eyes back down. "I knew you had to work..."
"But you told Abbot... and Dana- and for some reason, Heather, too-"
"Yeah, I know, and they all showed up..." he tilted his head at your clipped tone and shaky glare as you gazed up at him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Robby shifted his weight to lean against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.
You shrugged, "Nothin'... just that they made time to be there, that's all"
Robby chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head, "Are you serious right now? I mean- c'mon you know I was at work all day"
"Obviously, but Jack said you talked about it with him and that you'd be there..."
"I can't just rush out of the ED-" you cut him off, softly
"Dana and Heather came right from their shifts, and Jack went into work late... where were you?"
"Don't try to make me seem like a shitty father because you didn't tell me-"
"Jack said you would be there!"
"He doesn't make decisions for me!"
"Okay, so you decided not to come, even though you could've??" he groans and runs his hands down his face, before raising his voice
"You seem to forget that YOU are a child, and couldn't possibly understand the shit I have to deal with on the daily. I do not care what Jack Abbot tells you- he is NOT your father." You flinch at the emphasis and heightened volume.
"If you want me to show up somewhere, you have to tell me- not wait until the last minute and then act like i'm failing as a parent when i can't make it." you understood to an extent, but on the other hand, you saw things from a very different perspective.
The perspective of a little girl who had asked multiple times and been shut down. The perspective of a child who had to rely on other adults to get things done instead of her parents. The perspective of someone who wanted to run away and find something better, but stayed in hopes of finding the change within the things that were holding her back.
"Tryna run away, change your zipcode"
You remember all the times your father seemed genuinely proud of you as a child, and can't help but compare them to every reaction now. Everything always came with a contradiction nowadays- either that or his last bits of energy being given to share a tired smile and hug- but never anything more.
So when you graduated from high school and began preparing to move away for college, you weren't really sure what to expect. Over the last few months before officially graduating, you had been discussing schools with your dad- or trying to discuss schools, rather. He was confused about why every one of your top choices was hours away from home- he really did lack self-awareness...
It inevitably sparked an argument, as most things did between the two of you, coming to a head when you finally decided that you were, in fact, moving to Nebraska to attend Clarkson for pre-med.
"So you're just not gonna see your family for months?"
"I mean... yeah, I guess. I don't really see you to begin with," you tried to laugh it off as you continued to refill your water. Robby tensed, processing the reality of your statement, still bothered by it and still willing to make it a problem just for the sake of it.
It continued like that for the following months until you moved- passive aggressive remarks about your future, accusations of leaving people behind, jabs that escalated to screaming matches with no resolution- the usual.
But it mostly came to an end once you were officially moved out. Your contact with your father was limited. You both tried to keep in touch, but at the end of the day, you were still your fathers daughter, and you easily fell into the same habits of overworking and under-asking for help.
"All your new friends look a lot like your last"
You visited home once during your whole college career. During that singular visit, you stopped by the Pitt to revisit one of the few find memories you had of home, only to be greeted by Frank Langdon and Samira Mohan, who reminded you far too much of Jake and yourself.
It was hard watching your dad interact with the two new med students, who couldn't have been much older than you. Langdon was charming and outgoing, pulling praise easily from your father. While Samira was more gentle and kindhearted, garnering the attention of those around her and gaining the trust of her patients.
Watching Langdon receive mostly praise, while Samira received mostly correction, put you in an even odder position with Robby, only making you want to leave sooner than intended.
You met and became friends with both of them, the three of you chatting about your future and how you were also going to school to be a doctor, but you were only a freshman at the time. You stayed in touch with them after you went back to school, both of them checking in on you fairly often, along with the preexisting clan of Pitt doctors and nurses who had already been checking on you since birth.
"It ain't our fault that you aren't suddenly somebody else 'cause you worked on yourself"
You made the brave adult decision to actually reach out to your father on your own and let him know that you'd be returning to Pittsburgh to finish out medical school. The last time you'd seen him in person was your college graduation, two years prior. You'd talked on the phone, texted occasionally, but no visits from either of you.
So even Robby himself was extremely shocked when you called one day to let him know you'd be moving back home and working at the Pitt for your emergency medicine rotation.
What you were not aware of was how hard your dad cried after that call, shocking even himself with how relieved he was that his little girl was coming home. But of course, in true Michael Robinavitch fashion, he would never let you know how he really felt about it all.
You returned, and you seemed different. Robby actually noticed something about you on his own for once, and it scared him. You didn't seem like his kid anymore... you seemed distant. Healthier, maybe even happier, but so distant. And that realization made him sick.
Everyone else saw it too- Abbot had organized a dinner to welcome you back, and even asked Robby to help- which he, of course, tried to deny, saying something sad like "oh, no- that's okay... I don't think she'd want me to be part of that", which made his best friend want to scream and rip his hair out. He ultimately forced Robby into helping him, promising a billion times that you would absolutely want your father to be a part of this.
Robby still remembers you arriving with Samira, a bright smile on your face as the table erupted in joyous chatter at your return. He remembers Langdon rushing to scoop you up in a tight hug, and how you giggled in shock as he spun you around, then ruffled your hair after putting you down.
His heart ached at the sight of you being appreciated, overwhelmed with pride over the young woman you'd become over the years. He felt glued to his seat as he took it all in, a loving smile pulling at his lips. He could feel his nose start to sting with emotion as you continued to greet everyone, circling around and ending near him and Abbot.
You greeted Abbot first, giving him a big hug, which he reciprocated with an even tighter squeeze, "Good to have you back, kid... can't wait to see you take over the ED."
You chuckled into his chest, then backed out of the embrace. You glanced over to Robby, your smile never dropping, your face not even shifting a little bit. "Hi, Dad."
His breath hitched, "Hi, Honey."
You pulled him into a tight, overdue hug. He stalled for the smallest sliver of a second, then wrapped his arms gently around you. You stayed in the embrace for a few seconds, allowing the air of a new beginning to flood the room.
"Thank you for setting this up." you mumbled. Robby felt his heart stall for a moment as he glanced over your head toward Jack, who just shrugged and smiled knowingly.
The dinner went great- you shared stories of your years at Clarkson, and then some from your first two years of med school. Everyone yapped about how excited they were for you to join the team at the ED, and how there were so many new team members they couldn't wait for you to meet.
The night ended with everyone bidding their farewells and making their way home. You finished chatting with Langdon about how he was going to help you hand up some shelves in your apartment soon, and Robby couldn't help but smile at the interaction.
He always loved your dynamic, finding it easier to stomach one of his residents being a sort of older sibling figure to you, rather than another attending trying to step in as father. At least with Langdon looking after you, Robby still maintained some of the control...
You were originally going to drive back with Samira, since she picked you up and you arrived together in the first place. But you ended up driving back with your dad, surprisingly having a good conversation with him.
"Ya know, I really wouldn't mind if you and Langdon-"
"Absolutely not!" you squealed, embarrassed, but giggling, pulling laughter from Robby as well.
"You didn't even let me finish!" he continued to chuckle through his words, eyes never leaving the road ahead.
"I didn't have to! Whatever you were going to give me permission for, it would never happen- Frank's like a brother to me at this point..." You stare out the window, shaking your head with a smile, before jerking back to face your father
"And isn't he married??" this had Robby barking out even more laughter. The two of you continued to giggle over nothing for the rest of the ride.
"Do you remember the one time I got in trouble at school, and they had to call you-" you almost couldn't get out the sentence because of how much you were giggling, "but you were like- in the middle of helping with surgery or some shit- and Dana showed up,"
Robby's smile already started dropping before you even finished the story, "God, I thought she was gonna start swinging at Mr. Wallace- she should've- but it's still one of the funniest things ever to me..." you sighed blissfully at the memory, gazing ahead. Robby cleared his throat
"Yeah, I remember being upset with you for a good three days at least... and being even more upset with Dana, for some reason..." neither of you were really sure if it was supposed to make you laugh, but it definitely sucked all the air out of the car.
That awkward tension you became accustomed to when talking to your father found its way back to you. You sighed, then bit your lip, unsure of where you could take the conversation at that point.
You played on your phone for the rest of the ride back to your place, knowing anything you said could cause an argument, and over the past six years, you'd learned to pick your battles and protect your peace.
Once you pulled up to your apartment, Robby parked right in front. You hesitated for a moment, then released a sigh and unbuckled your seatbelt, "Thank you for driving me, and for putting together the dinner..."
You reached for the handle and popped the door open. You were mostly out of the car, about to close the door when your dad spoke, "It was Abbot."
You leaned back down slightly to glance back at him in confusion, "what?"
Robby pinched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel before glancing in your direction, not meeting your eyes, "Jack organized the dinner... it was his idea..."
Your heart dropped slightly, and you felt your chest squeeze, pressure rising and stopping behind your eyes, "oh..."
"Yeah."
"Okay..." you sighed, "I'm gonna go to bed now"
"Okay. Good night, kid..." he finally looked you in the eye, and it was misery on both ends. Robby's heart immediately shattered, seeing the shine of tears in your eyes, something he hadn't had to witness in a long time. And you're reminded that healing is nonlinear as you feel the familiar guilt that had a tendency to surface when confronting your father.
"Love you..."
"I love you too, Dad." you closed the door, and Robby watched you go inside until the door closed behind you. He gripped the wheel again and let out a distressed yelp.
Robby drove back to his house and barely got any sleep that night (even less than usual). He didn't have to say what he did. He didn't have to say most of the things he's ever said to you. He didn't know why he was like that with you- his pride and joy, his sweet baby girl- maybe it was because you were more like him than he wanted to admit, and that scared him. Maybe he subconsciously thought that pushing you away would make you try to be the exact opposite of him. And in some ways, it seemed to work, but in many of the ways it mattered, you'd always be your father's daughter.
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It’s 90 plus degrees in Chicago right now, and I have nothing else better to do than respond to things I see that I find unfair or inaccurate.
I want to make my larger point about this whole Noah Wyle discourse clear, because I feel like sometimes people are responding to what they think I am saying instead of what I am actually saying.
I do not have a problem with people critiquing Noah. I do not have a problem with people criticizing the Pitt. I do not have a problem with people talking about representation, character development, writing choices, interviews, or anything else. Public figures and people involved in creating media can and should be criticized when criticism is warranted.
My issue is that the criticism needs to be fair, accurate, and based on what was actually said or done.
If you are going to say Noah said something in an interview, article, podcast, or wherever else, then you should be able to pull up that source, reference it, and give the actual quote. And the quote needs to actually say what you are claiming it says.
It should not be separate quotes taken from different parts of an article, mashed together, rearranged, and then presented as if he directly said one specific thing. That is not criticism. That is misrepresenting what was said to fit the point you already wanted to make.
And that has been one of my biggest issues with this discourse.
I also feel like people are taking things Noah has said critically about himself and turning that into “this is what his co-stars said about him,” when that is not always the case.
From what I have seen, Noah has been very critical of his own behavior during his ER years. He has talked about being difficult, competitive, insecure, or not always welcoming to people who joined the show. That is fair to criticize. He said it himself.
But I think there is a difference between saying, “Noah has admitted he did not always behave well back then,” and turning that into “everyone around him said he was horrible” or “he bullied people off the show” without actual proof of that.
Those are not the same thing.
It seems to me that Noah has reflected on his past behavior, has been aware of where he fell short, and has either made attempts to rectify those situations or at least speak honestly about them. That does not erase the behavior, but it does matter.
And when people take something that happened 20 plus years ago and use it as proof that someone is forever terrible, it gives me the impression that they do not believe people are capable of making mistakes, learning from them, and growing.
That is where the moral superiority part of this discourse starts to bother me.
Some of this criticism does not feel like, “I disagree with what he said,” or “I dislike this creative choice.” It feels like people positioning themselves as more ethical, more socially aware, more enlightened, and just generally better than him.
And I do not believe anyone is better than anyone else.
We are all people trying to figure out life. We all have blind spots. We all have things we could have worded better. We all have moments where we missed something, mishandled something, or failed to see something from someone else’s perspective.
That does not mean people should not be held accountable. Accountability matters. Growth matters. Criticism matters. Social justice matters. Inclusivity matters. Representation matters.
But fairness matters too. Accuracy matters. Context matters. Grace matters.
And I am saying this as someone who does have criticisms of the show.
I have said more than once that I do not like what felt like a rollback in representation from season 1 to season 2, especially when it comes to certain demographics. I have also said that representation matters. It matters in TV, movies, books, advertising, and all mainstream media. If a show is praised for realism, then the people in that world should reflect real life too.
I also understand why people are concerned about Supriya Ganesh not returning as a part of the show, and now Shabana Azeez not returning in the same capacity. These are women of color who were fan favorites, and I understand why people are upset or side eyeing those decisions.
But what I also find interesting is that I have not seen that same level of heat when it comes to Black characters on the show, especially Black women.
And as a Black woman, I notice that.
I notice when people are loudly concerned about representation and inclusivity, but Black people are still somehow the afterthought. I notice when people are speaking about women of color, but Black women are not centered or even given the same level of urgency. I notice when the discourse becomes about women of color in general, but the specific absence or reduction of Black women does not get the same energy.
To me, that shows unconscious bias too.
The Black community is often the community people think about last. And I do not think everyone doing this is aware of it, but I definitely recognize it in a lot of the discourse I have seen.
So while some people are trying to come across as the ones who care the most about inclusivity, representation, and people behaving the “right” way, they are still not fully hitting the mark they are expecting other people to hit.
That is part of why the moral high ground bothers me.
Because if the conversation is really about representation, then it needs to be about representation for everybody. Not just the characters people personally connected with the most. Not just the women of color who became fan favorites. Not just the characters who are easiest to rally around.
Black characters matter too. Black women matter too.
And again, this does not mean people cannot criticize Noah. He is the lead actor. He is an executive producer. He has written and directed on the show. He wears a lot of hats when it comes to the Pitt, so I understand why people look at him as one of the faces of the creative direction.
But I also think people need to be more critical of the production and writing team as a whole, not just Noah as an individual person.
The show is not made by one man sitting alone in a room with a laptop and a bad attitude. There are writers, producers, directors, network decisions, scheduling decisions, contracts, creative plans, and a whole production machine involved.
And if people are going to have such strong opinions about the show’s handling of representation, then I think it is also worth acknowledging that a large part of the writing team includes women and people of color. That does not mean the show is above criticism. It absolutely is not. But it does mean the conversation is more complicated than “white man bad, everything is his fault.”
And listen, I understand why people have strong feelings about white men.
I am a Black woman in America. My ancestors were enslaved. I can trace slavery through both my maternal and paternal sides of my family. So if anyone understands why people feel anger, exhaustion, distrust, or resentment toward white men and the systems they have historically benefited from and upheld, trust me, I understand that.
I am not confused about that part.
But I also understand how the world treats Black people. I understand how often Black people are expected to support everyone else’s causes while being treated as optional in return. I understand how Black women specifically are constantly expected to show up, understand, advocate, and empathize, while still being left out of the center of the conversation.
So yes, I find it very interesting when people are loud about inclusivity and representation, but still seem to miss the ways their own discourse leaves Black people behind.
That is why I keep coming back to fairness.
Criticism is fine.
Misquoting is not.
Accountability is fine.
Assigning ugly motives based on assumptions is not.
Disliking a creative choice is fine.
Turning every creative choice you dislike into proof that someone hates women, Black women, women of color, or marginalized people is a much bigger claim. And if you are going to make that claim, you need to be able to back it up with more than vibes, stitched-together quotes, and personal frustration.
People can criticize Noah Wyle. People can criticize the Pitt. People can criticize the writing, the interviews, the representation, the character arcs, the structure of the show, all of it.
But criticize what actually happened. Criticize what was actually said. Criticize the work in front of you.
Do not take what was said, add what you think he meant, mix in every other frustration you have, and then present that as fact.
Because at that point, the conversation is no longer about accountability. It is about narrative building.
And if we are going to have these conversations, especially conversations about misogyny, racism, representation, and bias, then we need to be careful. Those topics are serious. They matter. Which means we should not be careless with them.
So no, my issue is not criticism.
My issue is unfair criticism.
My issue is inaccurate criticism.
My issue is people acting morally superior while holding someone else to a standard they do not even hold themselves to.
You do not have to like Noah. You do not have to defend him. You do not have to agree with me.
But if we are going to talk about what he said and what he did, then let’s talk about what he actually said and actually did.
summary: single dad!robby hires a nanny after adopting baby jane doe.
contains: black!fem!reader, but anyone can read. feminine!reader. nanny!reader. age gap between reader and robby. yearning. 18+ fantasies about smut. robby lowkey being an old perverted man.
after that dreadful fourth of july shift, robby made the biggest decision of his life; fostering baby jane doe. he also made the decision to extend his sabbatical, and it wasn't filled with traveling across the country, instead he was taking care of a little baby girl. then robby got rid of that death machine called a motorcycle, and bought a suv, the kind a family man would own.
at first robby thought it would be hard for him to adjust to fatherhood, but with some help from jack and dana, everything worked itself together.
now it was six months later, baby jane doe was seven and a half months old and robby has officially adopted her, but he needed to return to the chaos of the emergency department. and he needed to find a nanny for his daughter.
during his nanny search, robby was very picky about who he wanted to hire to take care of his daughter. he's her father, obviously he wanted the best for her. he went through so many candidates, but in his mind, no one would be qualified enough for his daughter.
he began to give up hope, until he came across your resume. you had many years of experience in childcare, you used to teach daycare, and you had lots of recommendations from previous employers from babysitting and nannying jobs. he decided to set up an interview with you at a coffee shop close to his house, so he could interview you while he had jack watch his daughter for him.
he arrived early and was already seated in a booth near the entrance, facing the door so he could see who came in and out, and gripping a coffee cup between his nervous hands. the moment you entered the room, he knew he was in for it.
you walked through the door, beautiful, confident and smiling. you were wearing a white knit cardigan with a baby pink shirt underneath, a pair of light wash jeans, and pair of pink and white sneakers. you wore light makeup. your hair was pulled back half way by a pink bow and you left two strands out in the front. you looked so pretty, it made robby's cheeks flush red.
"hi, michael?" you approached him with your hand out for him to shake it. "i'm y/n."
"yes, but call me robby, please?" he stood and shook your smaller hand. "michael's too formal."
your beauty and energy captured him. robby stared at you for a moment too long and held your hand longer than he should have. he apologized, telling you he was just a little tired, and asked you to sit with him.
"i'm sure you've been through many candidates already," you started off the conversation. "but i assure you that i am perfect for this job."
god, you were so young and so confident, you made robby think of himself in his younger days. you couldn't have been more than thirty.
"y'know this job... it'll be alot." his voice trailed off. "you seem pretty young, this job will take up a lot of your time and energy."
you stared at robby like he had offended you.
"i'm 29. i know what this job entails and i love what i do." you assured him. "any of my previous employers will let you know that i am true to this."
during the interview he was easily distracted by you. you were so sweet and beautiful, and you had the kind of smile that radiated good energy. the interview went great. you answered all of robby's questions with the answers he wanted. you were so confident in your abilities, and constantly reassured him that you were the person he needed, to take care of his daughter of course.
a few days after the interview, robby finally called to let you know that you got the job. truthfully, after he interviewed you, he had no one else in mind to interview or hire. his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. you were so pretty and so sweet, and your references from previous employers helped too of course. you were perfect for him and his daughter.
the job required you to live in his house. recently robby moved into a new house, the kind with a white picket fence, a pool and a pool house in the backyard, and friendly neighbors. robby wanted to raise his daughter in a neighborhood where she'd be friends with the neighbor's kids throughout her life, where he knew she'd be safe and have a community.
the day you moved in robby informed you that you'd be living in the pool house. you would have your own bedroom, living room, bathroom, and kitchen.
"i want you to have your own space," he explained. "it's basically your own apartment."
you were really grateful for his thoughtfulness, and thought it was sweet of him to consider you.
when you finally met robby's daughter, he informed you about how her adoption came about. it hurt your heart to hear about how someone left this little angel in the bathroom of his workplace like that. robby held her in his arms, so you could see her. when she laid her eyes on you, she was instantly drawn to you. her arms reached out to you, so you wrapped the precious little girl in your arms.
"in the ED, we originally called her "baby jane doe" because we couldn't identify her or her parents," he explained. "but when i adopted her, i named her charlotte, and lottie for her nickname."
"that's so adorable." you complimented as you smiled down at her in your arms. "i've always loved that name."
robby watched as you interacted with lottie for the first time, it felt so natural. this was your element, you were made to do this, made to take care of children. it was unspeakable how seeing you like this did something to robby. you looked perfect holding lottie, like she were your own daughter.
once you were fully settled in, you quickly fell into the routine of being lottie's nanny.
in the mornings, you woke early to make yourself breakfast, sometimes you had extra and would send it with robby to work. he was grateful for it, his breakfast would mainly be a cup of bad coffee from the break room of the ED and maybe a granola bar. it was nice to finally have some real food for once.
when lottie woke up you had her breakfast ready, which was mashed fruits, dry cheerios, and a bottle of formula. after she ate, she would take a nap and you'd complete some housework, like washing dishes or clothes, sweeping, mopping, dusting, anything to keep you occupied. when the afternoon rolled around, sometimes you would take lottie out for walks in her stroller around the neighborhood or in a nearby park, other times you would stay in the house and let her crawl around and play with her toys.
you and lottie got along really well. she was a calm baby, she didn't cry or fuss too much. your favorite activity to do with her was to go out to the park and have a little picnic. you'd bring a picnic basket and a blanket, set up under the trees, feed her some fruits as you ate your lunch, and read her a book while soft music played on your phone. you loved this little girl dearly and you enjoyed taking care of her.
robby missed being home with lottie, but you always kept him updated with how she was doing throughout the day and what the two of you did. he was grateful to have you taking care of her. he could tell you loved his daughter and that she loved you. it made his infatuation with you grow stronger. it may seem strange, but he knew you'd be the perfect mother to lottie, and in the back of his mind, you'd be the perfect wife to him. you took care of him even though you didn't have to, making him breakfast and packing a snack or two in his work bag, asking him if he slept alright, and telling him to have a good day at work.
it was wrong of him to think of you like this, but it was hard not to, you were just so lovable. it was so unfortunate that he was your boss, but it didn't stop robby from imagining a life with you.
when robby got home each night lottie would be fed, bathed, and asleep. sometimes he'd come home and you would be asleep in the rocking chair next to lottie's crib with a book in your lap or you'd be in the kitchen cooking. and you always made enough food for him.
"i made extra just in case you were hungry." you held out the plate you fixed for him.
"you don't always have to do that, y'know?"
"but i want to, i noticed you don't eat much." your face fell. "just wanna make sure you eat."
god, you were such a sweet thing. robby didn't understand what he did to deserve someone like you to take care of him and lottie.
he hated watching your face fall like that, he loved seeing you smile, so he grabbed the plate from you and sat down at the kitchen table. you still stood by the counter watching him with your plate in hand.
"i can stay and eat with you if you'd like." you offered. "i don't have anything else to do."
robby just nodded and gestured to the spot across from him. your smile returned as you eagerly sat down in the chair. for the first few minutes it was silent between the two of you, but as robby continued eating his meal, he couldn't stay quiet any longer. not when you sat across from him looking so pretty and fuckable. it took everything in him to not bend you over the kitchen table and fuck his fat cock into you as he told you how much he loved you and all about his life plans with you.
"so... what do you do in your free time?" he asked.
"not much, most of my time is spent with lottie," you explained. "so i either get some rest or watch tv, sometimes i'll paint or read."
you and robby continued having a conversation and learning more about each other. he enjoyed talking with you, you were a breath of fresh air. you were so kind and calm, unlike the people he dealt with working in the ED. you never made him feel like he had to rush to finish his sentences and you listened to his every word. his daughter was his pride and joy, but having you in his life made robby an even happier man.
some nights after robby got home and you retired to the pool house, he'd look out the window to see you taking a night swim out in the pool. he never got the chance to use it himself, so he was glad someone was making use of it. it felt wrong, but seeing you in those little bikinis you wore made robby grow stiff in his pants. the tiny material clung to the plush of your ass and hardly covered your tits, it was impossible for robby to not be turned on by you. he felt like you were doing this to him on purpose, there's no way you didn't feel him staring at you through the upstairs window like a creep.
and like the old perverted man he was, robby would later fuck his cock into his fist while in the shower, thinking of you, the pretty little thing you were in that tiny little bikini. he would moan and groan your name underneath his breath, thinking about how pretty you'd look as he fucked into your little pussy and what sounds you would make taking his fat cock.
he felt like you were waiting to be his, not just so he could fuck you, his to love and cherish, to take care of mind, body, and soul. he wanted to provide you with a lifetime of stability and happiness. you two already had lottie, but if you wanted more children he'd give them to you. thinking of your belly swollen from being pregnant with his child made robby want you even more. robby was so in love with you. you and lottie were his entire world and all he needed was the two of you.
dividers: @/cursed-carmine
💌a/n: there's definitely going to be a part 2 to this, but idk when it'll be uploaded! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! (i'm a slut for feedback)
yeah. the show is not meant to make YOU feel seen and represented, unless you’re in the healthcare field and is burnt out, hopeless, depressed and suicidal like dr. robby or dr. abbot, or nurse dana, even.
the pitt has always been about dr. robby’s mental health journey to healing and the show is merely an invite for us, non healthcare workers, to understand better what it’s like to be a doctor or nurse in the united states of america, through the lenses of a very mentally unstable doctor.
i am genuinely shocked to see the lack of reading comprehension from some of you. you’re attacking the actors/crew for not doing what you want???? this is so embarrassing, acting like you know them personally. acting like they owe you anything. they don’t!
this show is not about shippers, get over yourselves. it’s not about what you want it to be. the pitt has a target audience and... it’s not you. that doesn’t stop you from enjoying the show, obviously, but you’re not the audience they want to please and impress.
dOeS nOaH wYlE eXpEcT mE tO wAtCh fIvE sEa-
babe, he doesn’t care about you, he doesn’t know you, he cares about healthcare workers, he has been an advocate for over thirty years. he has always used his fame and influence to shine a light on the fact that doctors, nurses, patients, are all victims of a terrible government who sees illnesses as dollar signs.
I agree with about 97% of your post, truly. The one part that made my face go “hmm” was the beginning section about representation.
I do think representation matters in mainstream media. It matters in TV, movies, books, advertising, and really any media we consume on a regular basis. It matters because the world we live in should be reflected in the stories being told.
One criticism of The Pitt that I have agreed with is that from season 1 to season 2, there seemed to be a noticeable decrease in representation, especially when it comes to Black women.
I am not saying the cast needs to be 50% POC or that every show has to check every possible identity box. That is not my argument. My argument is that if one of the biggest selling points of the show is realism, especially realism about the day to day life of an emergency room, then the people in that emergency room should also reflect real society.
Society is not one ethnicity, one race, one gender, one body type, one sexuality, one background, or one kind of person. A realistic hospital setting should reflect that variety too, not just in the patients, but in the staff, the leadership, the social workers, the nurses, the doctors, and everyone else moving through that space.
Speaking personally as a Black woman in America, it was disheartening to look at the Black female medical professionals we had in season 1 and then compare that to what seemed visible in season 2.
In season 1, we had Dr. Collins, Kiara the social worker, Gloria, Dr. Ellis, Nurse Bridget, and paramedics like Ziegler and Crow. That is not even including patients. I am only talking about medical professionals within the world of the hospital and emergency response.
From what I remember seeing in season 2, and from what I checked afterward, the only Black women from that group who seemed to carry over visibly were Dr. Ellis and Paramedic Crow. So no, it is not that Black women were completely absent. I want to be accurate about that.
But there is still a noticeable difference between having several Black female medical professionals visible in the world of season 1 and then having that number and visibility reduced in season 2.
I understand that part of realism in healthcare is that not everybody works the same shift every day. People rotate. People transfer. People go on vacation. People are not always in the same place at the same time. I get that.
But still, it was hard not to notice that the presence of Black women, especially in professional roles, felt reduced. And when a show is praised for realism, that kind of reduction stands out.
And yes, someone could say, “But there are still women of color.” And that is true. But Black women are not interchangeable with the broader category of women of color. Anti-Blackness exists, including within POC communities, so Black representation specifically still matters. I do not want to derail this into a separate conversation about that, but I do think it is important to name.
To be clear, I do not agree with every criticism people have made of the show or the fandom. I do not agree with people jumping straight to calling specific people racist, misogynistic, narcissistic, or saying they hate women based on assumptions. I think a lot of those takes go too far.
But do I understand why people have raised concerns about representation and inclusivity? Yes, absolutely.
I also do not think this was necessarily intentional in the sense that anyone sat down in a meeting and said, “Let’s reduce the presence of Black women.” I do not believe that. But I do think unconscious bias can show up in creative decisions. And when the end result is that the visible presence of Black women is reduced from one season to the next, that is something worth questioning.
And before anyone says it, yes, I recognize that Black representation was not completely absent in season 2. Donnie had professional growth, Louie went from having a smaller role in season 1 to becoming a much more central part of season 2, and Cruz was introduced as a Black doctor. I am not ignoring any of that.
But that is also why I am being specific. My criticism is not that there were no Black characters at all. My criticism is about the noticeable reduction in Black women specifically.
Black men being present does not erase the reduced presence of Black women. A Black male character getting more development does not replace the Black women who were no longer as visible in the world of the show. Those are related conversations, but they are not interchangeable ones.
And that is where the issue becomes frustrating. It felt like a give and take. Yes, we gained or expanded some Black representation in certain areas, but the Black women who helped make the world of season 1 feel fuller and more reflective of reality were not carried over with the same level of visibility.
So again, I am not saying the show had no Black representation. I am saying the show’s Black woman representation took a noticeable hit, and I think viewers are allowed to notice that without being accused of asking the show to cater to them.
Representation is not separate from realism. Representation is part of realism.
Also, I want to be very clear that this is not a personal attack against you or me saying that I think you are anti-Black, racist, or that you do not care about representation. You have not said anything that would make me jump to that conclusion, and that is not what I am trying to imply here.
My concern is more about how that part of your post could be taken by other people who already believe representation does not matter. I would hate for someone to read that and use it as “proof” that conversations about representation are unnecessary, because I do think those conversations are necessary.
I do not think you were saying representation is unimportant. I think you were talking more about the fandom infighting, the constant discourse, and the way people have been projecting a lot onto the show and the people involved since episode one. And honestly, I think a lot of us are tired of that too.
So this is not coming from a place of hostility. It is coming from a place of wanting to add nuance to a conversation that I think is important. I agree with most of what you said. I just felt like this specific piece about representation needed to be expanded on, because representation does matter, and I do not want that point to get lost.
Hey, so let’s be mindful of stereotypes and the way we talk about actors that are part of historically persecuted groups when criticizing them and their behavior.
An actor being part of a minority group does not make them exempt from saying bigoted things. Also, an actor saying bigoted things is not an excuse for you to be a bigot towards them. Both things are true and it should not be that hard to understand.
Wyle saying something biased is not and will never be an excuse for you to make the decision to be antisemitic. Calling a Jewish man power hungry is disgusting when there is practically zero evidence to support that.
He has done so much great work for healthcare workers. He has gone to Capitol Hill twice now to push for their rights. He has been an advocate for mental health for a while, and he is doing incredible work with The Pitt bringing awareness of mental health matters, the abuse of healthcare workers, and so many other problems going on in this country right now.
It is not an attack on him to say he is coming across as misogynistic with the way he talks at times. It is also not discounting the incredible things he has done. It is also not an excuse for you to use that to be an antisemitic dick and use stereotypical language to describe your views on Wyle.
summary: reconciliation, labels, i love you's and a dinner alone together
a/n: sometimes im maybe good sometimes im maybe shit. they sound like teenagers fucking talking it's a little embarrassing. BUT i will defend my honor here and say that although there was compromise it was due to the power of love that they can't stay away from each other. trauma bonded for life. also i only have two more chapters planned so this series is winding down. thank you and enjoy :)
tags: mentions of suicidal ideation!!!
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Robby can't sleep. He sits on the couch in the dark as his mind races. The hotel's channel service plays on the television as his only light source. He rubs his hands over his face as he thinks about you. He was so sure something was wrong and he took the letter at surface value.
Now, you could be anywhere, doing god knows what. He tried looking for you around the hotel. Walking the dark path to the pool and around the bar and even checked Crystal's bungalow but everything was closed. He returned to the bungalow feeling helpless. A particular looming feeling of dread burrows in his heart.
He goes into your room and looks into your suitcase to see Monty's urn. He sits beside it your luggage and he sighs, "Let her come back safe." He sniffles, "Please."
The next morning, you wake up feeling awful. Your body is cold and the clothes you were wearing are still wet. It looked to be sunrise now, the sun's rays peaking just over the mountain behind you. You sit up and hold your head feeling a headache. You also feel an itch in your throat and a runny nose. "What a fucking train wreck." You mutter to yourself.
"Excuse me Dr. Adamson?" A steward from the hotel approaches you.
"Yes?" You put on your sunglasses as you look at him.
"Glad to see you okay. Your husband has been looking for you this morning." He says.
"He has?" You expression softens.
"Yes, ma'am." He smiles, "Would you like a towel? We can escort you back to your bungalow where he's waiting."
"Yeah, that would be great, thank you." You stand up and take a towel from him before following him to a cart taking you back to your suite.
You knock on the door and after the second knock, it swings open quickly. "Hi…" Is all you can muster. You probably looked a hot mess to him. Hair damp, make-up running, and wrinkled clothes. He didn't look any better. Dark circles around his eyes and the clothes from yesterday still on. He steps to the side and lets you in.
You walk into the room and set your purse on the counter with your sunglasses. He walks slowly behind you and the guilt starts to settle in. You look outside to see dinner was still sitting on the table in the yard.
"I am going to take a warm shower if you don't mind." You fiddle with your fingers nervously as you shuffle to the bedroom. Your eyes are trained at the ground. If you dared to look at him, you just might cry.
"Where did you go?" He asks.
"The beach… I went for a late night swim." You purse your lips as you turn your head to him. "I think I needed it?"
"Yeah?" He stands behind the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.
"Yeah. I'll be right back." You enter the room and peel the cold wet clothes off your body. You enter the bathroom and take a much needed warm shower to rinse off the salt and sand from the beach. You don't feel as bad when you get out but still have the soreness in your throat and the guilt in your chest.
You come back out of the room in fresh clothes and purse your lips. Robby is still standing in the kitchen leaning against the counter facing the rest of the living area. "Feeling better?"
"I may have gotten a little sick." You clear your throat.
"Let me check you over." He goes to the living room and digs in his bag for his penlight.
"You don't have to, some home remedies should suffice."
"Let me just check." He pats the couch cushion. You comply and sit down. He checks you eyes and throat with the light. He clicks it off and puts it in his pocket, "It could develop into a cold so we should get some juice for you."
"Thank you for that." You fiddle with your fingers. "I haven't been kind to you. Or my dad. All I ever wanted was justification; that what ever I was doing was the right thing. I think my dad knew that and… and he knew that giving that to me wouldn't do anything… I am constantly letting my emotions get the best of me and I have tried to cut them off. I wrote that letter 2 years after my dad died. I was drowning in grief and loneliness; I wrote it all down. It was in case of emergency. In case I couldn't carry the weight anymore." Tears well up in your eyes again. You look over at him bite the side of your lip. "I'm sorry."
"I've felt that way too." He clears his throat, "After your dad died, I realized I had no one left. You were living your life and I was living mine. We felt worlds apart. COVID was taking people away. People weren't coming back. Things started to get difficult to manage as chief. Everyone is looking to me for help and I can barely help myself."
You gaze softens and you place your hand on top his, "Have you felt like… hurting yourself?"
"Sometimes. I've thought about not coming to work. Walking into the river with concrete shoes. Driving until I run out of gas in the middle of nowhere." He turns his hand over so your hand rests on his palm, "I was not kind enough to think about leaving a note."
"I would have missed you." You whisper.
"I would have missed you too." He whispers back. "I'm sorry that it seemed like I was only being nice so you wouldn't want to die. I meant what I said. I always cared about you. I knew I wanted you in my life."
"I'm sorry I thought that. I couldn't fathom the idea that you wouldn't have an ulterior motive." You rest your head on his shoulder. He spreads his fingers and yours sink between them, locking your hands together. "Did you really try to look for me all morning?"
"And all last night. They cut the lights at like eleven so I couldn't keep looking. I stayed up waiting for you."
"God, I feel like an ass." You sigh.
"Don't" He kisses your forehead, "You feel better,don't you?"
"Mhm. Emotionally yes. Physically I feel like I slept on a bag of rocks." You chuckle, "I ended up on those lounge chairs and it wasn't the most ideal sleeping spot."
He laughs with you, "Let's lay in bed for breakfast."
"I like that idea." You both stand up and go to bed.
About mid afternoon, you wake up to find Robby holding your waist and spooning you. You turn over to face him. He adjusts his positions still holding on to you but he still sleeps like a stone. You take a sharp inhale through your nose. Guilt sinks into your stomach now as you think about him staying up all night waiting for you. It reminds you of when you were med-students together and he would wait for you to walk together to your car.
You smile as you remember every grievance you've had with him. How it all seemed to melt away now that you knew his true feelings for you. He said it himself, he always cared. While you were busy fighting your inner critic, he was there trying to support you. With your cold nature, there was only so much he could do.
You lean in and place a kiss gently on his lips, "Thank you for not hating me." You feel him tighten his grip, pulling you closer.
"How could I?" He mumbles, "I love you."
"You're sleeping, you don't mean that." You whisper.
"I love you." His eyes open quickly as he says it again, "I'm awake now, so does that count?"
"I… I guess so." You trace the lines on his face, "But how do you know?"
"I've known for years and years." He kisses your neck. "It's what happens when you repress your feelings."
"Well, you already know how I feel. It was in my letter after all." You circle your fingers your fingers around the nape of his neck.
"Hm, I did get in trouble for learning that information so I may have disregarded it."
You click your tongue and swat his shoulder, "You just want to hear me say it."
"Is that wrong? You had me think you weren't coming back." He looks into your eyes with his deep brown ones.
You take a deep breath, "I don't think I realized how much I loved you until we were both old and wrinkled. Often, I would look at you and think about what could have been. Had I not been so self-centered, maybe we could have been something."
He grabs your hand and laces it with yours, "We can be something now." He kisses your knuckles.
"You're okay with having a wreck as a girlfriend?"
"I'm okay with that. As long as you're okay with all the paperwork that comes with dating your superior." He presses his lips against yours.
You groan back, "I was kinda hoping we keep it low key for a bit. That's what I was getting at last night before… you know. I hate change and paperwork. And the fact that everyone would know."
"Is there something wrong with people knowing you're dating me?!" He looks at you taken aback.
"No, well, what I mean is we have this reputation about us."
"Uh huh."
"And I would hate for it to change immediately."
"You still want to hate me at work…"
"If that's okay? A couple pokes and prods here and there. I just don't want people thinking I've gone soft with you after sleeping with you."
"Sure, how dare anyone think you have a heart." He squeezes you tightly, making you laugh out the air in your lungs.
"Just for a bit. A month maybe?" You giggle. "I'll let you walk me to my car after work. Ease everyone into. Get a rumor started."
He chuckles, "Fine. But how about you walk me to my car?" You scoff and roll back over. He hugs you tight and kisses you ear. "That wasn't a no…"
"Yes it was. Chivalry is dead anyways." He chuckles as he holds you tight against his chest.
You spend the rest of the day in bed until both of your stomachs growl to life. You head to the restaurant for dinner in more leisure clothes and get sat inside in a rather secluded booth inside the restaurant. You feel a bit grateful because you did not want to confront Crystal today. You sent her a text while you were in bed but you didn't really want to talk.
The two of you sit on the same side. You decide against alcohol for the first time this entire trip and decide to drink some pineapple juice instead. Robby sticks to water, making it a sober night for the two of you.
As you pick your plate, you speak, "I think I want to do it tomorrow."
"It?" He cocks an eyebrow, "There are a lot of things that could be 'it.'"
"You know what I mean," You elbow him, "I want to spread dad's ashes. Finally get the closure I want. Lay him to rest."
"Sounds good." He nods, "And it's okay for me to join?"
"No, actually, I want you to stay at the bungalow and keep an eye on our stuff." You say sarcastically, "Yes come. I don't think I can do it without you."
"Would you have? If I hadn't come on this trip?"
"Yeah. I probably would have done it the first or second day and been alone with my dark thoughts the rest of the trip. But with you here, I felt like it needed to be more serious. You've made me do a lot of reflecting."
"A teacher never stops teaching."
"Don't let it get to your head." You roll your eyes, "You've only got a year on me okay. And based on review I am a better mentor than you."
"Based on review?! Based on review, you are cold-hearted and your criticism is borderline personal and derogatory."
"That came from one review and that spoiled brat deserved that criticism. He was being pompous and deprecating to patients." You mutter into your cup. "Completely unfit for the internship."
He chuckles, "I'm glad you are my second pair of eyes."
After dinner, in the bungalow you take a bath in the jacuzzi tub to relax. The only light illuminates the sink and toilet area leaving you in near darkness. There were some electric tea light candles giving you a comfortable atmosphere as you sit in the jets.
Robby comes and sits on the landing beside the tub. He watches as you sit in the bubbles. You look back at him, "Worried I might sink in?"
"I wasn't thinking about it until now," He purses his lips, "I was just checking on you though. Make sure you're okay."
"I'm okay. I'm not going to get better instantly but I'm better than last night."
"Good."
"You should get in. It's big enough for the both of us." You smile.
Robby twists his lips in thought but you give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can do. With the will of your pout he complies. He stands up and undresses, "Move over." You grin with excitement as he steps into the tub. You lay between his legs with your back against his chest. He rests his hands on your shoulders and starts to massage you.
You hear the wind against the glass as you make a satisfying sound. He leaves light kisses on your neck as warm water from his wet hands trickle down your shoulders over your chest. There is a small window above the tub. You can see the moon from where you lay. A small smile spreads on your face as you slowly doze off in the comfort of Robby's arms.
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i hate to be the one to make a post like this, but i’m not sure where to go anymore.
my husband & i lost our jobs this past month & we are quickly running out of groceries. (our fridge/freezer is almost empty). it may be weeks or another month or so before we get any income in & our local food banks are over-booked in our town.
if anyone could spare absolutely anything, i’d be beyond grateful. i understand that the world is fucked & we are all struggling out here, so if you can’t, reblogging this post will also help a ton. thank y’all sooooooo much in advance. 🫶🏻🤍
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