#matsurrawrites

Knock knock.

"Dennis! Thank god you're here."

Dennis' eyes widened when he saw how disheveled Robby was, his hair a mess, his face full of exhaustion, and was he holding a frozen Poweraid? He shook away the confusion that was fogging up his brain and managed to finally speak. "Y-Yeah, I got your text. You said Peyton is—"

"Daaad…"

Robby hurried back up the narrow staircase, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway, leaving Dennis standing in the doorway before finally stepping inside Robby's apartment, the door creaking softly behind him. Although he had only visited a handful of times for their date nights—each occasion while Peyton was occupied at a friend's house—he was consistently struck by the apartment's coziness. The warm glow of the dimmed lights cast a soft hue on the walls, creating an inviting atmosphere.

He slowly followed Robby's lingering presence up the stairs before walking down the hallway, peering through the first open door on the right, and into Peyton's bedroom. He saw the 12-year-old lying on her bed, her face flushed red with a fever, her brows furrowed while she let out sick whimpers. Robby was gently soothing her, trying to soothe her headache and sickness with a gentle hand.

No wonder Robby said to come by urgently.

"She's been like this all week," Robby told Dennis, feeling his presence behind him. "Temp 102, can't keep anything down…"

"Did you take her to the doctor?" Whitaker said as he stepped further inside, pressing fingers to Peyton's neck to feel her pulse. A bit fast.

"I shouldn't have to, I'm a doctor—"

"Okay, okay, hey. It's okay, Robby." Dennis reassured him, kneeling next to Peyton's bedside and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We can figure this out, together. Has she had her flu shot?"

"Yeah, I get it for her every year."

"Okay, has she eaten anything that would make her sick?"

Robby thought for a moment. "We got Thai food a few days ago. You thinking food poisoning?"

Dennis nodded with a determined expression. "It would make sense of the fever and the fact that she can't keep anything down." He then began to gently palpate Peyton's stomach, which caused her to groan loudly. "And the stomach pain."

As he rose to his feet, a determined look grew on his face, a plan already forming in his mind as he began his descent down the stairs and back into the kitchen. When he was a kid, he got food poisoning, and back then, his Mom always made up some kind of home remedy that somehow worked wonders against all odds. But this wasn't Broken Bow. He would have to work with what he had here.

First things first, replace the lost fluids and electrolytes from vomiting.

The 27-year-old opened the fridge and began to look through it with focused blue eyes. Pedialyte would be best, but he doesn't have that. He spotted a red Gatorade at the far back, and he plucked it up and checked the date. Gatorade is the next best thing. He placed it on the counter and knelt to scour more.

When he couldn't find anything else in there, he turned and opened the door to the large pantry, which had an array of snacks that Peyton and Robby both liked. Dennis spotted a single box of saltines and immediately grabbed it. Saltines have Sodium, a key electrolyte.

Dennis placed that on the counter right next to the Gatorade and shut the pantry, now moving to the downstairs bathroom to look through the medicine cabinet. Loperamide or Bismuth Subsalicylate. His blue eyes immediately spotted the Pepto-Bismol. Perfect.

He went back to the kitchen and placed it down with the other supplies. When his eyes locked onto some bananas, he immediately thought back to Nebraska. His Mom used to feed him bananas and rice while he was sick, and it actually worked wonders. He grabbed one, snapped it from the bundle, and peeled it. He then fetched a clean knife and began chopping it into slices before fetching a bowl and placing the slices in there.

Robby didn't have rice, but that was fine; he had bread, which was good enough. Dennis heated a small pan and began to make toast that way, so he could check more thoroughly on the crispiness. He slowly transferred the toast onto a plate and put all of the things on a wooden tray that he found (which was most likely just a cutting board).

With strong, yet careful arms, the farm boy hoisted his supplies and made his way back up the stairs, he could faintly hear Robby saying something to Peyton, but he did not know what it was until he stepped into the doorway, and his heart fell.

Robby was reciting the Shema prayer, but instead of reciting to himself, like at Pittfest, he had placed both hands on his daughter's feverish skin and was reciting it in her ear, as if he had lost all medical knowledge or hope in that moment. It made Dennis' heart break. Peyton was the best thing that had ever happened to Robby; he knew that right from the start when he first met the 12-year-old, and even more so when they started dating. If anything had happened to her, Robby would turn the whole world upside down.

He never wanted to lose his little girl.

After Robby was done, he quickly made his way back over to her bedside and placed the tray on her nightstand, handing Robby the frozen Poweraid that was occupying it. "Put that back in the fridge."

Robby looked at Dennis with a shocked, tired look, grabbing the bottle. "W-Wow… that is… a lot of stuff."

"Just the basics to help her get through this," Dennis smiled softly as he grabbed a medicine cup and began to fill up the dose of Pepto. "… you should teach me that one day."

"What?"

"The Shema prayer."

The 52-year-old let out a deep chuckle and a small shake of the head, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're not Jewish."

"So? Is it against Jewish laws to teach someone a prayer?" Dennis whispered as he lifted Peyton's head forward and made her take the dose of the thick pink liquid.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then there's no problem." The farm boy smiled and gently placed her head back down, cracking open the Gatoraid and holding it to her lips, thankful that she actually began taking some, no doubt to get rid of the nasty taste in her mouth.

"… I don't know what I would do without you, Dennis," Robby confessed in a whisper that made Dennis' heart skip a beat. They have only been dating for a few months, but the amount of love that he could feel from the man beside him, it meant more than anything to him. He turned to Robby and smiled softly.

"Get some rest, I'll take watch here."

"You sure?"

He pressed a soft kiss to Robby's beard. "I'm sure. Go."

With no further arguments, Robby groaned as he stood up, no doubt his joints protesting from kneeling for so long, and began walking to his room to get some much-needed rest. Dennis let out a soft sigh and grabbed the stray cold washcloth that was on her nightstand and placed it over her forehead, which she sighed in relief.

"You'll be alright, Lucky Penny." He whispered to her, gently soothing her hair. "I promise."

Robby had no idea what he was walking into when he got that phone call from Peyton's school. He was busy at work when he received a call saying it was time for a Teacher-Parent conference. He had only been to one of these in his life, and that was when she was still in elementary school; it was a different ballpark now, as she was in the 7th Grade.

He had barely enough time to tell Dana that he would have to leave work early before dashing out the door, his heart racing as he hurried to his bike parked in the lot. The entire 10-minute ride to her school felt like an eternity, each second fraught with anxiety and anticipation. He remembered when his peanut was in elementary school, she would dream of being the next Doogie Howser, M.D., only having her dream crushed by Langdon when he told her that it was impossible.

When he finally arrived at the school, he was guided to her classroom, after putting on his visitation sticker, and was seated next to her at a desk. She didn't look too nervous, but didn't look too good either.

"Peyton is one of our nicest students," The 12-year-old's homeroom teacher smiled reassuringly at his desk. "She's a great kid, always turns in her work."

"Oh, great, good. So, we're done here—"

"However," The teacher stopped him from getting up. "She's… not jumping at the chance to do any extracurricular activities."

That made Robby confused, and glance at the brunette, who couldn't meet his eyes. Something was going on here. "… Yeah?"

"Mhm. There have been multiple tries to get her to join any of our clubs: cheerleading, gardening, art, especially art, since her art teacher is very impressed by her works. But she's always turned them down."

"Why?" Robby asked his daughter, who just shrugged.

"I-I would rather focus on class."

"Speaking of which, this is her math grades…" Her homeroom teacher handed over some assignments, and Robby looked them over with wide eyes.

"D's?!" He knew Peyton was very smart and very good at Math; she was great from K-6. Her proficiency in the subject was so impressive that she frequently took the time to tutor Harrison during their weekends together. Robby felt a twinge of disbelief as he processed the news; his daughter, with her unyielding dedication and talent, would never receive a D on a math assignment under any circumstances. The thought was inconceivable.

"This has happened on the past few assignments; tutoring was offered to her, but she declined it."

Robby put down the papers and turned to look at his daughter, her brown hair hiding her face. He wanted to give her the chance to explain herself, the chance to tell him this was all a misunderstanding.

But she just sat there. Not saying a single word.

"Is there anything else?" Robby drawled as he turned to look at her homeroom teacher.

"Nope," He shook his head. "Other than that, she's been a great student and a joy to teach."

The 52-year-old man nodded and stood up. "Okay, thank you for your time. C'mon, Peyton. Grab your stuff."

Peyton grabbed her teal flower backpack and hoisted it on her shoulder, not missing the look of pity on the teacher's face on the way out. She hated that look; she had seen it from all of her teachers, and it made her sick to her stomach. I don't need your pity.

When they stepped out into the semi-empty parking lot, she was hoping to just get on the bike, but instead, her Dad leaned up against it, his arms crossed, and gave Peyton a stern yet soft look.

"… why are you struggling, Peyton?"

Peyton looked down, kicking a stray rock away from her Chucks. "… it's nothing."

"Getting D's isn't nothing." Robby pushed away from his motorcycle. "Not joining clubs isn't nothing. I raised you to be better than that. So out with it."

The 12-year-old felt her throat close up and her eyes sting. She tried taking in deep breaths and counting to 10, but the shame still grew in her chest. She wiped her eyes with her jacket sleeve. She didn't want to be a bother to her Dad. He was raising her by himself and working at The Pitt. He shouldn't have to worry about her.

"I-I just…" She said softly, her tone squeaking from tears. "I don't wanna be a teacher's pet."

"A what?" Robby shook his head. "Who the Hell is calling you that? Are you being bullied?"

"No!" She reasurred with a sob. "They don't mean to make me feel upset about it, but… they say it, and they're right. I don't want to be a teacher's pet."

"Peyton," Robby knelt down to her level. "There is nothing wrong with being one; it means you're dedicated, that you want to succeed."

"It's not the 80's anymore, Dad. Things are different now."

Ouch.

Robby took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his short, dark hair. Things were much easier before she was a pre-teen. All he had to worry about back then was getting the right Barbie doll for her. But now he has a whole other league to worry about here. Centering his thoughts, he took a deep breath and nodded, "Alright, what about the not joining clubs thing? Is it also because of being a teacher's pet?"

She gave a slow nod, her dark brown eyes locked on his.

"… you can't let people get to you." He told his daughter. "I know it's easier said than done, but you also need to remember that you have so many people in your court."

Robby gently reached out and brushed some hair behind her ear, letting him see her wet face.

"I'm sure I can… squad up and get Whitaker and Dana down here."

"Oh my god, don't say squad up—" She tearfully laughs.

"Catch these hands or something—"

"Please, please stop."

The two shared quiet laughs, and Robby's heart swelled. There was that smile he fell in love with the minute he saw her when she was a newborn. The laughs that could make anybody smile. His little peanut.

"Promise me you'll do better. I can't tell Abbot that you got a D on your math homework; he might actually kill me."

Another tearful giggle escaped her small lips as she gave a nod. "I promise, Dad… I'll do better."

"You're already doing your best," He cupped the back of her head and brought it forward to press a kiss. "You just need to polish it."

After letting go, he turned back to his bike and held out his spare helmet, which Peyton gladly took and put on as he climbed on, starting the bike with a loud rumble. Peyton placed her small hands on his shoulders and climbed onto his back, getting comfortable.

"Ready?" He called out.

She gave a thumbs-up.

Accelerating the throttle, he surged out of the parking lot, the roar of the engine echoing in the air. He noticed Peyton's smile always grew while riding the bike in the mirror, and had made a silent promise to himself: he would do everything in his power to keep that beaming smile on his daughter’s face, no matter what.

Peyton's long hair molded to the wind as she sat on the fire escape, her eyes red and puffy. They were fixed on the city lights as she hugged her knees to her chest. She had a lot to think about after arguing with her father like that. She had never yelled at her Dad so much until that very moment, all because she wanted to go to a movie on Sunday, but he refused since it was a school night. It was so unfair. He was putting so much pressure on her, probably because he wanted her to be a doctor like him.

"Ow, a little help, kiddo?"

She turned her head to the right to see her godfather, Jack Abbot, trying to climb over her dresser and enter the fire escape, much like she did, but it was hard to do when he only had one true leg.

"I wanna be alone, Uncle Abbot."

"Yeah, well, can we be alone together?" He asked, gripping the window pane for dear life. "Please?"

Peyton bit the inside of her cheek and looked away for a moment, weighing her options. On the one hand, it would be nice to vent to someone; on the other hand, Abbot was best friends with Robby, and he would probably take Robby's side no matter what. Pursing her lips, she leaned over and grabbed Abbot's hand, lifting him onto the fire escape.

"Phew. Thanks…" Abbot panted a bit, sitting down beside her and taking deep breaths. "Wow… nice view."

"… sorry we fought in front of you."

"It's not a big deal, kid." Abott shook his head, looking at her tired expression. "… ya wanna talk about it?"

"He's just being… so unfair!" Peyton growled out, waving her hands in frustration. "I never get to do fun things, and when I finally make friends, and they want to hang out, he takes that away from me!"

"I know, kiddo."

"I just want to be normal for once!"

"I agree."

Peyton looked at him for a moment with furrowed brows, as if he didn't mean what he said. She supposed she was just shocked; she wasn't planning on him taking her side.

"But you also gotta understand…"

There it was.

"Your Dad only has you," Abbot explained.

"That's not true." She scoffed and pulled her knees back up to her chest. "He has you and Dennis."

"That may be true, but I'm only his best friend, and Whitaker is only his boyfriend. You are special. You're his only kid. His little girl." Peyton felt him gently move some hair away from her face and behind her ear, much like how Robby did it when she was upset. "And when his little girl wants to be all grown up in such a short amount of time, it breaks his heart. It makes him feel bad that he's probably missing out on so much because of The Pitt."

"But he's not," Peyton said, a now sad look on her face as she turned to face her godfather fully. "Dad is a huge part of my life, just like you and Aunt Dana. He's taught me so many things, he's always been there for me."

"Have you ever told him that?"

"… no."

Abbot gave a small smile at that, seeing that the 12-year-old was finally realizing her mistakes and what she needed to do. "I'm not saying it's fair to not let you go to the movies, but I'm also not saying that you were at your best in there, kiddo. Think you can talk it out for me?"

Peyton looked down at her hands, which were slightly shaking from the cold. She knew she had to go in there eventually, had to exchange some kind of words, but she never wanted to rush it, or just jump right in without looking first. But she knew her godfather had a point, as he always did. He grew smarter during his time overseas, as well as in the ER. So, with a small nod, she stood up.

"Are you coming?"

"In a bit," Abbot promised. "It's actually nice out here."

"Suit yourself," She softly giggled before taking a breath and climbing through the window, being careful to not knock over the nail polishes, picture frames, or jewelry racks on her dresser. Once her Chucks were back on the safety of the ground, she slowly made her way out of her room and into the hall. It was eerily quiet in the apartment, which meant either her Dad was here sulking or he had gone out for his zoom therapy.

But her brown eyes spotted him sitting on the couch in the living room, so she descended the stairs and walked up to him, her footsteps quiet, but not quiet enough, as he looked up at her as she approached.

"Don't ever yell at me like that again," He sternly said, pointing a finger at her. "I raised you better than that—"

She hugged him tightly, her eyes misting. "… you did." Peyton wasn't expecting a hug back, but surprisingly, she got one. The one where he cupped the back of her head and pressed her deeper into his chest so he could hear his calm heartbeat. Where he would hold her, and so much warmth would radiate from him that it made her feel safe. Where she knew her Dad would always love her no matter what.

"Thank you, Dad…" She croaked out.

"What for?"

"… for being my Dad."

The baby monitor to the right of Robby's bedstand crackled to life, cries spilling from the speakers like a waterfall and stirring him from his peaceful slumber. He was not surprised that, with Peyton only 8 months old, she would still cry or wake in the middle of the night. Still, he missed a full night's rest. He slowly rose from his warm and comfortable mattress with a loud grunt, pushing the covers aside.

"Yes, sweet girl, I'm coming…" He softly called as his feet touched the carpet, and he got up, his knees protesting. He crossed over the hallway and into his daughter's room, the star nightlight still on and spinning, soft chimes of a lullaby filling the room as he approached the crib. Peyton's face was scrunched up and red as she cried, tears stuck to her cheeks as she fisted the air. She was obviously not happy to be awake either.

"Oh… poor Peanut…" He whispered as he leaned down and picked her up, supporting her head and gently bouncing her. "What's wrong, hm? I'm sure it's not a diaper change… and you had two bottles of formula rather than one, which I'm still shocked by the way…"

Peyton let out tiny whimpers and fusses as she gripped Robby's white tee, as if he was going to leave her at any moment. It was clear right then are there. She had a nightmare.

"Shh, shh…" He whispered into her tiny temple, placing soft kisses there. "You're safe, Peanut, I got you."

When Robby received a call from a one-night stand that she was pregnant, he didn't believe her. He wore a condom and disposed of it properly. But then again, condoms break all the time, and the girl he saw wasn't on birth control. After 8 months, she got in touch again, and her words were: "If you don't claim this baby, she will be put in the system".

He had never driven so fast in his life.

When he got to hold Peyton for the first time in his life, it was as if she cast some kind of magic spell on him. The way she just curled up right onto his bare chest, instantly trusting him, her soft noises, even her cries. He loved all of her, and he still does. Their pulses lined up, and it was perfect. She was perfect.

"There we go…" He whispered to her as she finally settled, blinking away the rest of the tears out of her brown eyes. With a gentle thumb, he wiped them off her cheeks. "You're too beautiful to have tears on your face."

He slowly walked to the window that was right next to her crib and peered out of it, seeing the nightlife go by. "There's a lot of scary things in this world, scary people… but I will always protect you from them."

His brown eyes looked down at her, crinkling with a smile. "Even if you're mad at me and say you hate me, I'll be there, protecting you." He ran a gentle, large hand over her downy, soft, dark brown hair, his heart feeling lighter as he watched her eyes watch him intently, as if Robby was the most interesting thing in the entire world, and that? It meant everything to him.

With gentle bounces, he began to hum a soft lullaby to try to lull his daughter back to sleep. He has done this so many times at this point that he was a pro. Fatherhood came to him as he had been by a truck, but he never regretted it. Every tantrum, every sickness, every tear, it was all worth it.

Robby watched as Peyton's eyes drooped, and she began to rest her head on Robby's shoulder, feeling completely safe in his arms. "Good girl," He whispered to her as he made his way to her crib. "Just continue to sleep."

At a snail's pace, he placed a loving kiss on her forehead and slowly lowered her down onto the plush crib, humming softly as he traced his fingertips on her cheek before tucking her green baby blanket over her tiny body. Finishing his lullaby with a soft note, watching as his daughter was back in her peaceful rest, thankfully. Still, he couldn't help watching her sleep; she was just so tiny, so innocent, and he wanted to stay in this moment forever.

"I love you, Peanut." He leaned against the crib with a smile. "Sweet dreams."

And with that, he slowly walked back to his own bedroom, ready to finally rest his head himself.

Peyton didn't know what time it was or how long she had been out, but she didn't care; her tears still clung to her flushed cheeks, and her chest heaved with a mixture of adrenaline, exhaustion, and a touch of fear. Robby had never yelled at her like that in all twelve years she had been raised by him, but for some reason, after they exchanged harsh words, he snapped. 

YOU DONT EVER FUCKING TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! YOU'RE A GODDAMN CHILD, YOU LISTEN TO ADULTS!

She didn't even know what she had said wrong. Her father just came home from the ER. She asked if they could watch a movie, and when he said no, she started to accuse him of just leaving her out of the picture. The way he was right in her face, his loud voice hurting her eardrums, it was too much.

So she ran.

She ran out in the Pittsburgh night streets, not even looking where she was going or even glancing behind her. Peyton just needed to get away.

The brunette was sitting on a bench underneath a street lamp, her chest still heaving with tears as she gripped the wood tightly, slightly bowing her upper torso to try and get air, sobs escaping past her wet lips. Was she now scared of her Dad? Would she even want to go home?

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, which made her flinch a bit. She hesitantly pulled it out with shaky hands and looked at the bright screen.

Dad Missed Call (10)

Dennis Text Message (8)

Dana Text Message (12)

Abbot Text Message (7)

Peyton looked at all of the notifications with wet brown eyes. She didn't want to face any parental figure right now, even though Dana and Abbot did nothing wrong. Dennis, yes, was seeing her father, but she knew she could always be more open to him about things, since he was a bit younger than Robby, and he understood the most.

So, she tapped on his notification list.

Dennis 1:45 AM Peyton are you okay?!

Your Dad is freaking out, he doesn't know where you are

Lucky Penny please answer my texts

Trin and I are getting in the car, we're gonna look for you, please tell me you are safe

Peyton please

Peyton

Peyton

Lucky Penny I promise you your Dad is not angry anymore, he just wants you home safe

Peyton wished she could believe him.

But after seeing Robby yell at her like that, it was like seeing him in a whole new light. Was that how he usually yelled at his coworkers when they acted out? Did he yell like that at Langdon when he found out he was stealing Benzos? Why? Why did he have to scream at her like that? What had she done to put so much fear into her? Did he think she would hurt him? Did he feel better after saying such hurtful things in such a hurtful way? Was this how he truly showed his love?

In fear of getting spotted, the twelve-year-old decided to get up and walk deeper into the park. She noticed that by just reading signs, she was at the Commons North Park, which was, unfortunately, near the hospital. Hurrying across the bridge, she spotted the exit on the other side, peering from side to side before walking down Federal Street. Their house was in the Skyline Terrace, so as long as she stayed away from that general direction, she should be alright.

Even though Peyton was on edge, ducking behind benches and trash cans every time a car passed by, being alone gave her some time to think, to digest, and piece together was truly happened. So her father was already tense; she could've guessed that, but what triggered it? Was it the fact that she raised her tone? Maybe. Maybe he had gotten enough of that at work and just didn't want to come home to hear such things from his own daughter? Maybe she was being too pushy about the movie night, maybe he was so exhausted that all he wanted to do was sleep; she should have been more understanding of that.

That made her stop, her brows furrowed.

Maybe it was something I did.

Peyton was always raised to believe there were two sides to every coin and to see both sides before making a fair judgment. What if her side wasn't the right one? Tonight wasn't the first time she had accused Robby of not focusing on her as much as on his work, and usually he put on a strained smile, sat down, and did things with her, even though he was so tired from work. He was always there for Peyton, even when he was frustrated at work, even when she didn't need him.

As another car went by, she slowly lifted her head in realization. She looked at the nearest street post. Wylie Avenue.

I need to get home.

With a different type of adrenaline surging through her veins and pumping her heart, she ran down the streets, her arms swinging, her hair flying in the wind and mixing with the night. Her Dad needed her just as much as she needed him. She realized that now. He never meant to scare her, nor make her cry or run; he was just tired, overworked, and overstimulated. He's human.

Brown eyes spotted a figure in the distance, and she knew exactly who it was. "DAD!!"

The figure turned toward the voice, and Peyton could see the shoulders sag in relief, and it immediately began running towards her.

"DAD!" She cried again. "DAD! Dad..!"

"PEYTON!"

They crashed together, arms wrapped around each other, and sobs from both of them were emitted from their lips. Robby held a firm hand on the back of her head as another wrapped around her back, while Peyton gripped onto her father's shirt as if it were her only lifeline.

"Oh, oh, Peanut… Baby, I'm so sorry." He sobbed in her ear. "Baby, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?!"

Peyton let him pull away and cup her face, seeing his brown eyes full of tears. She had never seen him cry before.

"I'm okay," she hiccupped. "I will never do it again, Dad. I promise."

"No, no, no, baby. I need to leave my shit at work and take care of you—"

"I need to be more aware that you have other problems besides me—"

"You always come first, no matter what. I can do more things with you, I promise. From now on—"

"Dad, you're tired!"

Robby stopped with a shudder as Peyton placed a tiny hand on his cheek, feeling the wetness from the tears. "… you're tired… let's…" She swallowed back her tears. "… I wanna go home."

He immediately nodded and tucked her into his side, beginning the walk home with her. Their hearts now settled and the fear gone, all that was there was now love for one another.

"… we could watch a movie when we get back." Robby offered.

"I much rather sleep… is it okay if I sleep in your bed tonight?"

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair. "I would love nothing more, Peanut."

"Daddy! Look at my report card!"

Robby paused his charting and turned his head to see his little girl run through the house to meet him on the sofa. He had just enough time to put the laptop away before an 8-year-old Peyton crashed into his lap, he let out a grunt as he situated her.

"Let's see here," He said, holding the card up to his face. "Look at that! All A's! That's my girl!"

Peyton squealed as he nuzzled his nose into her temple, his beard tickling her face. "I can go to high school now, right?!"

"Well, that's gonna take a—"

"Then I get to go to the really big kid school! Uhm… College! Then I get to be a doctor!"

"Well, Peyton—"

"Then I can be Doogie!"

Robby's face immediately fell as he realized what was going on here. Peyton had told him time and time again that she wanted to be a doctor just like him when he grew up. But when she found the Doogie TV Shows, she was hooked. He honestly thought she was just like any other kid with a hyperfixation. But no, this was different. She truly thought that her age didn't matter, and she could just be like Doogie.

How the hell was he supposed to break his little girl's dreams? He didn't want her to grow up and think she could just be a doctor whenever she wanted.

He took a deep breath and situated her in front of him, placing her report card down and grabbing her tiny hands. He brought them up to his lips and placed loving kisses on each one before looking her in the eye. "Peanut… you know that I think you're the smartest little girl out there."

"Uh, huh."

"And I know you'll make a great doctor!"

"Just like Doogie?!"

"… just like Doogie. But…" He licked his bottom lip. "There's an age restriction."

Peyton looked confused.

"Basically, you have to be a certain age to even start learning in a medical field."

"… how old?"

"18."

Peyton began to frown. "But… Doogie isn't that old."

"No, he—" Robby had to pause to think which one she was talking about at the moment, because it changed every day. "They," he decided. "Are 15-16… the TV show is fake… you… can't be exactly like Doogie."

Peyton looked like she was processing his words for a moment, and Robby thought she would be taking this quite well. But he was wrong as soon as he spotted her eyes become wet, and looked at him like he had kicked a puppy. Oh, dear god. I broke her.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." He whispered. "Really, I am—"

"No, you're not!" She cried, ripping her hands away from him. "You're lying! You just don't want me to be better than you!"

"Peanut, that's not it at all—Peyton!" He rose from his seat as he watched his daughter run upstairs. "Peyton!"

He took a shaky deep breath and flinched when she slammed her bedroom door, closing his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to break her heart, to tell her that her dream can't be a reality, but he was never a liar. A part of him wanted to just hang back, to just let her ride this emotional roller coaster out.

But he knew that she needed him, even though she probably didn't want to see him; she needed comfort.

Placing his hands on his hips, he paced around the living room a couple of times, giving her a few minutes to cry and tire herself out. When he counted to 100 in his head, he made his way up the stairs and toward Peyton's room. He gave two soft knocks on the wood before gently opening it and peering inside.

She was curled up in her bed, holding her Build-A-Bear that she had gotten for her birthday to her chest. His heart squeezed at the sight, and he knelt right beside her bed, resting his forearms on the mattress.

"Have you cried all your tears?"

Peyton sniffled and nodded just as Robby reached out and caught the final tear on his finger. He cupped his daughter's now-warm face and gently caressed it with a thumb. "If there was any way I could make you like Doogie, you know I would."

"… I know, Daddy…"

Robby sighed at her sad tone, his heart breaking even more. This was so unfair to an 8-year-old who had put in so much work just to have it squashed. There had to be some way to make her live her dream, even just for a day.

That's when he got an idea.

"Doctor Robinavitch! Here are the charts you requested!" Langdon passed them to Peyton with a smile, the 8-year-old little girl in a large white lab coat with Robby's stethoscope draped over her shoulders. She beamed at Langdon and nodded at him. "Thank you, Doctor Langdon!"

"Doctor Robinavitch, when you have time, do you think you can help me with a blood draw?" Princess asked in the most polite tone. "I can't seem to find a vein."

"Mhm! I can do that!"

"I'll take those, Doctor." Perlah smiled as Peyton hopped off of Robby's chair and followed Princess to South 8, passing Dana and Robby with warm smiles on their faces. It turned out that when you call the ED and tell them that there is a super depressed 8-year-old who wants to live out her Doogie dreams, they are very willing to help.

"You know Gloria is gonna find out about this," Dana said.

"Oh, I know." Robby nodded, leaning on the workstation and watching Perlah teach Peyton how to properly draw blood. "But for that kid? It's all worth it."