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Robby hated Monday mornings. Hated how they stretched like no other time of the week. Hated how the waiting room filled up once the threat of going to work or school made illness and injury seem real. Hated how the nine to fivers, the Monday to Fridayers, would arrive demanding movement and progress when they’d downed tools for the weekend leaving him and his team to scrape by on what they had.
And, he had found, he hated you.
Well no, he didn’t. Not really. He didn’t know you well enough to hate you but you were getting on his nerves. Newish to the hospital, new to days, and new to the team in which you didn’t seem to be settling even if it was your first shift with them. He’d hoped by the end of rounding you would have taken the hint but you were persistent, butting against him with every order or suggestion.
It had only taken him an hour to know when it was coming, he could see it in your eyes. He could see that brain ticking away as he asked the question, aimed at Whittaker not you. He could see your eyes light up when he hesitated to offer an uncertain, ‘um we could try a Bougie-assisted intubation.’
‘Hmm,’ you’d said. That was at least something. You’d stopped interrupting, jumping in with both feet and making whoever had got the wrong or slightly less than right answer long for the ground to swallow them up.
‘Problem?’ he asked, jaw tightening as he kept words in that he wanted to say.
‘No,’ you shrugged, ‘but I think video laryngoscopy with a distal tip manoeuvre would be better.’
‘And why’s that?’ he said, eyes narrowed as he surveyed you. With Whittaker he could sense apprehension. His instincts were right but his confidence was all over the place. Santos barrelled in thinking of the procedure, not the patient. Mel knew what she was doing but was underestimated. And Javadi was clever but quiet. But you, you were different. Cocky. Irritating. And you carried it on in the next breath.
‘Because it is,’ you said, folding your arms across your chest. Challenging, unwavering, ‘it would give much better visualization and help with first-pass success-’
‘Okay but have you thought about-’
‘How it could cause a perforation?’ you asked, ‘unlikely if you flip the angle, it stops the laryngospasm and helps with oxygen saturation. I mean there’s always risk but it’s like what, two percent? Damn sight better than the near sixty percent failure rate of a blind pass, right?’
But it hadn’t been what you’d said. It hadn’t even really been your tone or the fact that everyone was watching, waiting. Nurses looked at one another, committing it to memory so they could talk about it out of the room. Whittaker looked between you like a tennis match, the ball in his court. Javadi went quiet and Mel waited, looking to him for instruction.
‘You heard ‘em,’ he said after a moment, disdain blooming through his chest as you clawed back a smug smile, ‘set up for the laryngoscope.’
Robby hadn’t been listening. Well as much as an ER doctor couldn’t listen. Sure he’d been focusing on his charts but his ears were open, like a cat, head slightly tilted at the faintest alarm or murmured concern. And he should’ve known the moment you’d sat down. Should’ve heard the sharks circling, the soundtrack to Jaws practically ringing over the top of call bells and IV machines.
‘So, what about you?’ Perlah had asked though you hadn’t known it was aimed at you, hadn’t looked up from the endless list of labs you’d been combing through. How could you, the preamble had been quiet, hushed tones and murmured words that you couldn’t hear from across the desk. You’d tuned her and Princess out, which was why it took you a moment to realise how quiet it had gone and looked up to find them both watching you.
‘Me?’ you asked, earning a couple of nods. You laughed nervously, ‘what about me?’
‘What’s the situation?’ Princess asked, ‘where are you from?’
‘Oh, uh New York,’ you replied.
‘You been in Pittsburgh long?’ Perlah asked. Robby didn’t look up, didn’t need to to hear the harsh pause of your typing, the tightness he knew would be wound into your jaw. He’d have faulted you if their prying were of genuine interest and not for their composition of gossip, but it was nice to know you were as spiky with everyone it seemed.
‘Six months,’ you replied, your tone polite enough that he looked up.
‘Working night shift from day one huh?’ Princess laughed, ‘that’s rough.’
‘Eh, I went where I’m needed,’ you shrugged, it wasn't an answer but it was nice enough. In fact, over the past couple of shifts he'd noticed that you were quite friendly with other's. Just not with him.
‘Why the swap to days?’ Perlah asked. Again Robby's eyes flitted up. He’d been wondering that himself, why the permanent night position you had filled was now sitting in a nice, neat, advertisement on the hospital's overly enthusiastic vacancies page. He supposed it was none of his business, or at least upper management had strongly hinted that it wasn’t. And you did too, if not in tone but in words as you shrugged, ‘work life balance.’
‘What’s one of those?’ Princess chuckled, earning herself a smile before the phone rang and distracted her.
‘Ah, relationship troubles huh?’ Dana asked, appearing from nowhere at Robby’s side and flitting your gaze their way. He dropped his eyes to his chart pretending that hadn’t sparked his interest.
‘What?’ you asked, your brow furrowed.
‘No nights usually comes from someone digging their heels in,’ she commented, nudging Robby on his arm, her attention never leaving you as she said, ‘you’re needed in north two by the way. So, you got a boyfriend? Girlfriend?
‘I’ll see them,’ you said, jumping up from your seat.
‘They asked for me,’ he said but you just smiled, tense and warning.
‘And I’ll come get you if I need you,’ you said, your voice tight but polite or at least trying to be, ‘promise.’
And then you flitted past him, a flutter of whispers and curious eyes in your wake.
ERs were busy places but there was a knack to it. Respite. It was in the breeze that rattled through the ambulance bay as you waited for a trauma call. It was the staff bathrooms in those couple of minutes before someone noticed you were gone. It was in dementia patients who conversed but not for long or coherent enough that it could distract you from your thoughts.
Though, as it turned out it was not in the supply cupboard. This one was better at night. Too far away from everything that no one ever bothered walking that far to use it. It could get you five minutes alone on a bad day, ten at a push. But that was the thing about days. The work was the same but there was always someone there, watching.
And as it happened, the very last person on your list of who you'd want to see any of this just walked in. You didn’t even know what he was looking for, he was an attending and his job had earned him the privilege of commanding things and them appearing, some nurse or underling running to get what it was from said supply closet.
‘Oh, sorry,’ Robby said, the moment he noticed you, standing in the middle of the room reaching for nothing that would explain why you were in there. If your big red eyes and snotty nose hadn’t already given you away.
‘It’s fine,’ you sniffed, turning your face away to the rows of catheters and wound dressings. You waited for him to grab whatever it was he was after, to leave you be. Leave you stewing in the embarrassment.
It was funny how an image could crumble so quickly. Your self-assured demeanour, the one you’d crafted over the last couple of weeks of dayshifts gone in a second as he said, ‘you know you are allowed to be upset-’
‘I know,’ you grit.
‘It’s not easy I know,’ he said, ‘but kids are part of the job-’
‘Well they shouldn’t be,’ you snapped, whipping around to look at him, your face thunderous, ‘no kid should be in here. Especially not because of stupidity.'
Your tone was harsh, your face furious. He'd never seen you like this before, you'd always been so unflappable. It made his brain short-circuit, trying to navigate how to handle this as you, huffed, 'I mean why have them if you’re not gonna look after them!'
‘Accidents happen,’ Robby started, but you didn’t yield. You just looked at him incredulously, like you couldn’t believe your ears.
‘Really?’ you laughed, ‘that’s your answer?’
‘I’m just saying-’
‘Look I know you, like every attending in this fucking hospital, likes to put positive spin on everything but there are no positives to this. And I won’t be made to feel like I’m being stupid for feeling that way,’ you said angrily. You didn’t know when you’d moved, how you’d gotten so close but he just watched, letting you throw your anger in his face in a way he’d never done before. No push back. No retort. No back and forth, just yielding.
‘I mean not only does this kid have life changing injuries that will cost thousands if not millions to fix, but he also has to go through the excruciatingly painful recovery of it all whilst withdrawing. All because his parents wanted to sling a bit of fucking meth?’ you said, your chest heaving and your eyes glistening. You sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand, ‘now tell me, doctor Robinavitch, where’s the good in that?’
And before he could reply you shoved past him, the door slamming behind you with a rattle.
‘How are we in here?’ Robby said, as he appeared through the doors. The patient was still flat out like the last time, and one glance at the monitor told him that his numbers hadn't improved though you'd spent enough time by his side.Â
‘No changes,' you huffed, fiddling with the IV that hung beside you, 'but he should be responding by now.'
‘Have you tried the fluid boluses?’ he asked.
‘Yep,' you said, your hand casting down the line like you were proving a point.
‘And the levophed?’
‘Yep, maxed out about half an hour ago,' you said.
‘What about-’
‘And an additional vasopressin,’ you interrupted smoothly, snapping your gloves off and dumping them in the trash as you moved to stand next to him. Robby folded his arms, trying not to watch you so he could pay attention, 'cultures are at the lab, but we started him on broad-spectrum vanc and zosyn just in case. Still zilch.’
'Okay…’ Robby’s brow furrowed as moved to the computer, his eye trained on the distorted labs on the screen.
‘Then we need to move to an stress-dose of Hydrocortisone. If he’s in refractory shock, we need to support the adrenals. So, what were you going to do next?’ he said, pulling back and glancing down at you. You looked up, looking awkward before you offered him a soft smile and replied, ‘honestly?’
He waited, curious to hear what had gotten you this reluctant.
‘I was going to ask what you thought,’ you admitted.
‘Wow,’ he chuckled, ‘I thought you didn’t need my help.'
‘I never said that,’ you said, rolling your eyes, ‘I’m just not used to my attendings not trusting me.’
‘I never said I don’t,’ he said, though that only made you look at him like you didn't believe him. But the truth was he did trust you. You were knowledgeable, quick. You understood rules sometimes needed bending not breaking. You were good with patients, professional when need, human when not. You were good with the other staff. You just weren’t good with him, with taking direction.
And he didn’t know why he wasn’t okay with that. He told himself it was because he thought you were cocky. That allowing you to be overconfident was a mistake, one that could cost lives. But as you looked up at him, quiet, which was unusual, he felt bad. He felt the need to keep you talking.
‘So,' he started, ‘by other attendings…you mean Jack right?’
Of course there were others, no one got through med school, internship and their first years of residency without answering to someone but he knew it was him you were talking about. Because se he hadn’t meant to be listening. Hadn’t tried to find out what the general consensus about you was, it just happened.
It was like he needed to know why you were different with him. Why you seemed afraid to let him see certain parts of you. The parts that intrigued him.
He’d heard from the nurses you were nice, thoughtful and helpful. Other doctors admired your directness and respected that you didn’t just sit back and agree even if they found it annoying. You’d fit right in on days by all accounts. Which made him wonder why you insisted on coming to days. If he was so terrible.
‘Him, and others,’ you shrugged.
‘If Jack was such a good teacher why are you on days?’ he asked, wincing the moment the words left his lips. He shouldn’t have asked you, shouldn’t have cared at the way you tensed before you brushed it off.
‘I had my reasons. Doesn’t mean that Dr Abbott isn’t a good doctor,’ you said, unusually reticent. Your eyes turned back to the patient, arms crossed against your chest in a way that sparked his attention.
‘Oh and I’m not?’ he asked, his tone was teasing though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know your true answer.
‘You would be,’ tone batted back with a cheek that only you could give him and get away with.
‘If?’ he asked.
‘If you trusted people,’ you shrugged.
‘You don’t think I trust people?’ he frowned. You shrugged again, making him feel the need to protest, to prove himself, ‘I trust Jack.’
‘And Jack trusts me,’ you said, a smile tugging at your lips, ‘see where I’m going with this?’
‘Jack doesn’t mind cockiness,’ he commented, his eyes narrowing as your smile grew, like he was missing a joke you hadn’t spoken. He felt his heartbeat quicken, intrigue pulling him closer as you chuckled, ‘I’m confident, not cocky. You wanna know how I know that?’
‘How?’ he mused.
‘Because when I don’t know something you’ll know because I’ll tell you,’ you said, ‘but when I know, I know. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.’
‘It’s not,’ he said. You looked like you were going to say something but there was a ping from your pocket. He tried not to look but couldn’t help but notice the name that flashed up.
‘Abbot?’ he asked, before he could stop himself. You looked up, suppressing a smile
‘Yeah, uh, he agrees by the way,’ you said, your smile growing wider as you finished, ‘about the hydrocortisone.’
‘You asked him?’ he baulked.
‘What can I say, trust works both ways. I’ll set up for the steroids,’ you grinned, moving towards the door, your hand resting on it as you looked back at him, ‘by the way I’d have gone with you no matter what Jack said.’
‘Oh yeah, why’s that?’ he said.
‘Because you wouldn’t say it if you weren’t sure,’ you smiled.
'How is it?' Whittaker asked from his position pinned on the side of the bed, holding the weight of the patient as you tried to reduce a nasty hip dislocation. Robby watched, the sweat from your brow dewy on your skin, the turn down of your mouth when you couldn't get a hold of it. It amused him, the pouting, the determination. You braced again, calling on Whittaker to take hold again, the patient's arm wrapped around his neck as he kept him still.Â
But then you stopped, your eyes finding him in the corner of the room.
'Can you help?' you asked, not shy, not demanding. An earnest request.
'Uh yeah,' he said, trying to submerge his surprise as he came forward, hands hovering.Â
'I've got a grip but I don't think I can push and pull at the same time,' you admitted. He nodded and moved to take over, his body crowding yours. But you didn't move, didn't let go.
'I got it,' he said, his gloved hand ghosting over yours where it held the protruding bone.Â
You didn't seem to notice how close he was, how your back pressed against him and your arms touched as he reached for the bone. The skin was soft beneath his gloved hand, warm where your hand was.Â
'I can hold,' you said, turning your head and finding him too close. He could tell by the way you swallowed, a smile on your lips as you said, 'just need you to do the pull.'
Because of course you knew what you were doing, what you needed, but you were asking for help. Still self-assured but compromising, like you'd promised you'd be. If he trusted you.Â
He nodded, turning his attention to the leg as you slipped your hand back over the joint. He had to move; to lean against the man with his arms wrapped around his thigh but you moved with him, tucking under so you could push whilst he pulled without getting in his way.
'Ready?' you asked, clear and calm.Â
'Ready,' Whittaker affirmed, dropping back into stance to steady the lever.
'Ready?' you asked, eyes glancing his way.Â
'Mmmhmm,' he said.
'Okay, one, two, three - pull,' you called.
The patient jostled with a yank and a pop as the dislocation slipped back into place.Â
 'Excellent!' you cheered, offering a hand to high-five him, yet another action that surprised him enough that his movements were lacklustre at best before you moved around to do the same with Whittaker, only looking up, a smile on your face as he said, 'good job,' and left before you could see his eyes.
Robby didn’t know why he’d come. He was too old for this, too senior. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like his team he did, but he wasn’t twenty anymore. He wasn’t built for bars and karaoke and birthday parties of ages he’d doubled. But he was invited so he came. Sat down at the end of the bar, nursing the same drink for the last half an hour whilst he waved and made small talk from each staff member that passed by but he came.
He just hadn’t expected you to. He also hadn’t expected you to look like that. Scrubs gone, hair done different. Relaxed. Oblivious. To the heads you turned as you came in, to him watching you from his seat until he said, ‘what are you doing here?’
You turned, a smile breaking out on your face as you got ready to spar. Your battle armour may have been gone but he doubted the pair of you would ever lay down the swords, ‘what, am I not allowed in a bar now?’
‘Aren’t you like twenty?’ he teased.
‘No but on the off chance they think I am you better do the buying,’ you replied, sinking into the seat beside him, leaning in, your eyes glinting, ‘if they ask I can say I brought my dad out for the night, you know give the nursing home staff a break.’
‘Whiskey soda,’ you said, eyes narrowing when he raised an eyebrow, ‘what? Goes down quicker than beer, higher percent. Gets you drunk quicker on a dime not a dollar.’
‘Haven’t you got work tomorrow?’ he asked.
‘Haven’t you,’ you challenged. When he sighed, you leaned in, bumping shoulders with him, your voice low with a conspiratorial hum as you said, ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’
He smiled, brief and despite himself but enough that you didn’t say anything when he cleared his throat, flagging down the bartender to get you your drink. The silence crept in whilst you waited, only broken by the surrounding chatter and his nursing. He tried to keep his gaze fixed on the back of the bar, to pretend that he enjoyed the silence. That he couldn’t feel the heat of you next to him, foot knocking against his shin every time you looked over your shoulder, surveying the crowd for people you knew. People you liked more than him.
As the bartender put down your drink he gave you a smile, one that you returned and only dimmed with a roll of your eyes when he turned around. Robby smiled, watching as you took a deep gulp, the brown liquid depleting by half in just a few seconds.  But as you looked around again, waving at Mel who’d come up to the other side of the bar he braced himself for you to make your excuses. The drink and the chit-chat he provided sufficient until you found someone else.
‘You know,’ he said, when your head turned back his way, ‘you can go and join them if you want.’
‘I’m okay here,’ you said.
‘I’m just saying don’t let me keep you,’ he said.
‘Do you want me to go?’ you challenged. Robby hesitated. He should. He had no business being here. No business sitting with you, fucking nearly thirty years his junior looking like that. But he didn’t say that didn’t even say yes, he just dropped his eyes to his beer and sipped. You smiled, taking another drink.
‘This you sucking up?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Can’t a girl spend time with her papi?’ you teased, taking another drink, ‘besides you have an attending sized wallet and I need another drink.’
He watched as you downed the rest, the glass clinking off the wood once you’d finished. And, before he could stop himself, he was flagging down the bartender.
‘Mind the uh, step,’ Robby said, grabbing hold of your waist as your foot caught the front step making you stumble. You snorted as your caught your footing, grinning at him as you offered a, ‘thanks.’
‘You sure you’re gonna be okay?’ he asked. You’d said yes at the bar. You’d said yes when he’d pulled up down the block and helped you out of his car. You’d assured him every step of the way and yet he was still here. He just didn’t know why.
‘M’fine,’ you mumbled, the key bouncing around the lock until it slotted in. He settled then, not entirely but enough to know that he’d be able to get you over the threshold before he left and that you wouldn’t freeze to death on your front stoop. The gentle pop of the door seemed to stir something in you. You pointed it at it, looking up at him with a smug smile as you said, ‘see.’
‘So you can open a door,’ he said, ‘I’ll believe you’re fine when you don’t call out tomorrow.’
‘There we go again,’ you sighed.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Not trusting me,’ you said, poking him in the chest.
‘I trust you,’ he said.
‘Do you?’ you asked, entirely too close, your hand brushing against his chest as he looked at you.
‘You know I do,’ he murmured.
‘But you don’t like me,’ you said quietly.
‘I like the real parts of you,’ he said, ‘when you’re not pretending…’
‘I don’t pretend,’ you said. He could hear the fight in your voice, trying though it was weak.
‘You do with me,’ he said.
And of course he knew. Because he pretended too. Pretended that you irritated him, pretended that he didn’t find your relentlessness enticing. He pretended that he wasn’t interested in you or that he didn’t look up when he heard your voice. He pretended that he didn’t hate how you got along with everyone but him and that your little back and forths were annoying. He pretended like he didn’t let you get away with things anyone else would’ve had their ass handed to them for. He pretended he didn’t like when you needed him.
That he didn’t like when you looked up at him like this, that he didn’t move himself closer even though your hand was firm against him.
‘You’re always watching,’ you said, though he wasn’t sure what that meant. That you weren’t hidden because he was always keeping an eye on you or because you chose to let him see.
‘It’s my job,’ he said, ‘why is there something about you I don’t know?’
You looked like you had an answer but your phone rang before you could give it, pulling you back to reality. It was only then did he realise how close you were, how your back was up against the brickwork, how you’d made no real effort to stop him getting closer. You dropped your gaze, cheeks flushed as you pulled your phone from your purse and again he couldn’t help himself, proving your point in an instant as he saw Jack’s name flash up on your screen.
‘Work?’ he asked.
‘Uh yeah,’ you said, not meeting his eye, ‘I had a patient I wanted to keep up to date on he said he’d keep me in the loop.’
‘I should um,’ he started.
‘Yeah,’ you nodded, though you paused as you pushed your door open calling his name when he was half way down the sidewalk. He turned, waiting.
‘Thanks for tonight,’ you said. He nodded and then he watched as you ducked inside, phone to your ear as the door closed behind you.
Hospitals were busy places. Places that were easy to lose yourself in. The only thing was Robby didn’t know if it was deliberate, if you were choosing to ignore him. You hadn’t called out much to his surprise, some off hand comment about a litre of water, Tylenol, and a piece of toast before you’d crashed into bed directed more at Perlah and Princess than him when he’d asked. Then you’d been gone. Every time you met over a patient there was someone else there. You didn’t stop in the breakroom. You didn’t even ask him for anything or to his surprise challenge him. He suggested things and you nodded, compliant enough that eyes had followed you from nurse’s station followed by bemused whispers.
He should’ve known he was being stupid. That you’d been wanting a mentor not a friend or more. He should’ve made you move last night. He shouldn’t have let you drink what you had and he should definitely not have taken you home.
And he was going to tell you as such when he could pin you down. But as the day tapered off and everyone started to round off ready to hand over he figured he’d wait until the end of the day, catch you on your way out.
Which is why he hadn’t expected to see you up on the roof. Hadn’t planned to announce he was there either, always watching is what you’d said and he’d proved you right within twenty-four hours, the click of the door making you and Jack look up.
You and Jack standing as close to one another as the pair of you had been last night. Jack who looked at you the way he did. Jack who dropped your hand when he saw Robby watching.
Jack who didn’t mind your cockiness.
Jack who you trusted and who trusted you.
Jack who’d called you last night.
Jack who wasn’t like him. Who didn’t dance around his feelings. Whose therapy fucking worked.
‘Hey man,’ Jack said, forcing him to start his feet and move closer like it wasn’t his turn to do the hiding.
‘Hey,’ he said, nodding at you. You smiled but it was weak, hesitant.
‘Long day?’ Jack asked. Robby chuckled weakly, ‘you don’t know the half of it.’
‘I should go,’ you said quickly, snapping Jack’s eyes to you in a second. He looked like he wanted you to stay, that he was going to tell you not to worry. Why should you, Robby could keep a secret. Robby knew everything. Robby watched and took everything in an yet had still been so fucking blind by pretending he didn’t feel something for you that he hadn’t picked up on the fact you were already taken.
But he had seen it in your eyes. He’d felt it in the way your breath had hitched when he’d gotten close. In how you chased the to and froing as much as he did.
‘Okay,’ he nodded, letting you move from him without a flicker of anything, just in case. You dropped your gaze as you passed him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of you like he had last night when you’d been sat beside him, arm resting against his, breath warm on his face every time you leaned too close not realising just how loud you’d gotten with half a dozen whiskey sodas in you.
But he couldn’t help himself, the restrain that he’d had last night breaking through as he called your name, forcing you to turn your head before you could flee.
‘See you tomorrow?’ he asked. You hesitated, your gaze moving past him to Jack who was watching none the wiser.
‘Yeah,’ you said, ‘tomorrow.’
And then you were gone and Jack was asking him questions he answered without thinking. But he wasn’t listening, he was just focused on the fact that the prospect of Monday morning didn’t feel so bad.
me as a disabled person constantly trying to maintain my sense of self love while also battling a constant sense of frustration and anger over how my body works
Tessa used to joke that Cyn had wormies in her brain that tell her to do bad things like ignore commands, eat all the cheese, bite her brother, and giggle in the hallways at 2:23am sharp.
Finding out she was correct on a larger more vast scale was genuinely shattering and horrifying
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
