#softrobby

Pairing: Dr. Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch x Fem!Reader (MS4)

Pov: Robby

Warnings: Violence, combative patient, physical outburst in a hospital setting, Injury, bruising, bleeding, trauma, mentions of pain, Character hurt/comfort, Minor blood description, emotional distress, tension (attending × MS4/nurse), Close physical contact, soft intimacy comforting touch, angst with a fluffy ending.

Summary: After a patient lashes out, Robby insists he’s fine until he nearly collapses. You take care of him, and he lets you see the pieces he never shows anyone else.

A/n- This is my first time, writing for the pitt. Please excuse any of my errors. I hope this is worth reading.

WC- 1.6k

The Pitt Master List

The Pitt is never quite. Never even pretends to anything else than a chaotic storm with patients everywhere and not enough staff. The board is littered with patients, some waiting to be taken up to the ICU, while others are waiting for their labs to come back.

As one patient leaves, another replaces the empty bed. I watch as Robby walks over to bay 2. No swagger in his seat, but he looks like he's already been beaten down this morning, and it's not even noon yet. Gloria must have gotten to him prior to shift start because his shoulders are dropped in a certain way that only Gloria can do.

You keep your eyes on the board and charting until you hear the shouting, and before you know what's happening, someone is shouting for a code gray in bay 2. Voices are raised, and the security is scrambling to get over. Suddenly, a hard crack of something hitting metal ringings through the entire ER.

Someone is shouting again. "Dr. Robby!" It sounds like one of the medical students here on rotation, you drop your charts and rush over to the bay. You feel like it's impossible for you to breathe as you catch the scene play out.

Security is holding down a thrashing patient who's red all over. Anger like a bull, a medical student is shaking in the corner, and a nurse is hovering over Robby. Your heart has officially sunk for the day. Dana rushes over, standing next to you as you watch Robby stand up against the wall.

His breathing shallow, jaw tight. He looks like a mess. Something you don't often see on Robbie's face. The minute his eye catches yours. The man is standing against the wall. His expression went smooth, calm, even controlled, as if whatever just happened didn't just happen.

That cool, calm, collected person he always is in an emergency, the eye of the hurricane, the still water under a raging storm. But when you look down his body to check him, his knuckles are split, and there’s blood on his right side.

You do the quickest assessment of your life and determine that it isn’t the patient's blood, but his. And once more, your thoughts are frozen. ‘Robby is bleeding!’ You step forward on instinct, but another nurse beats you to it. “Dr. Robinavitch, you’re bleeding.” Her words are cut short.

“I’m fine.” Robby snaps. He’s angry but not at the nurse. Maybe that this happened at all, or that you saw him be weak in a place where he’s supposed to be strong. Quicker than normal, harsher than normal. “I’ll be back in a minute. Finish up giving sedation.” Robbys word is final.

He walks past you and Dana. The pair of you stand there for a minute. Watching as Rooby goes for the peds room. ‘You better go check on him, you know how he can get.” Dana says, walking towards the desks.

Robby is moving fast, but not how he was just a few minutes ago. His steps are slightly uneven, his shoulders are practically up by his ears, and his hand is curled into his right side. Protecting himself. He’s trying to hide it, but it's impossible.

You follow as he slips into the peds room. His grip is strong on the unused bed. Both sets of knuckles are going white from the sheer pressure. He’s trying and failing to regain some control over his breathing. The second the doors latch clicks, Robby lets out a groan of pure pain.

“Robby…” You try, voice barely a whisper in a colorful space of the peds room. You can see him flinch by the door. “Don’t, okay, I said I was fine.” Robby is lying straight through his teeth badly.

“You’re bleeding badly.” You say, taking a tentative step towards him. “It’s really nothing.” His eyes are still cast down onto the clean peds bed. “Just caught an elbow to the ribs is all. It happens.” His voice is shaky.

“If this were one of your medical students, you’d be losing your mind right now.” You say softly, taking another step towards him. “If it were me or Dana, you’d be losing your shit right now. Forcing us to let you take care of us.” He groans. “So please let me see you.” You beg. Finally, by his side. “No,” It's a shy, timid, shallow response to you.

That one word has you stopping beside him. Heart crushing into little pieces, because the reality is. Robby is afraid. Afraid to be seen as hurt and weak. Afraid to let you see him like that.

Your tone is soft, as if you're working with a child in the ER. “Robby, let me see, please.” You beg once more. His shoulders slump, and for a fraction of a second, you watch as his knees buckle.

You’re able to grab hold of him before he reaches the floor. You drag him over to the peds bed. His hands are latched onto your forearms. Squeezing once, hard as a deep bone rattling pain runs through him.

“I’ve got you, Robby. Just sit and take it easy.” You say softly. He lets you guide him over to the bed. His breaths are quiet and shaky in a way that you aren’t used to hearing at all. It rattles something deep inside of you.

Once he’s situated on the bed, you go to pull his scrub top up. His hand snaps to your wrist. Large hand, and long, thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. Keeping you in place. It’s not to be hurtful or forceful. Robby is just startled by the sudden movement.

“You don’t need to take care of me.” Robbys voice frayed on the edges. As if tears are threatening to take over any minute. “This isn’t how this works, and you know it.”

A long beat, one that allows you both to breathe.

Robby can’t seem to fight you on it anymore. Or at least for now. He exhales slowly, defeated, and lets his hand fall from your wrist.

You’re gentle as you raise the fabric of his scrub top. He inhales quickly and sharply through his teeth. Muscles go tight under your touch. “Your hands are freezing.” He mutters, “It’s the ER, Robby. I’m always cold.” The banter is nice between the two of you. It makes this seem less real.

A bruise is already forming on his right side. Wide and dark across his ribs. Probably taking weeks to morph from a deep shade of purple to a yellow, and then finally nothing at all. There’s a cut across his ribs as well.

Rib contusion. A possible fracture, but most definitely painful for Robby. “What’s your prognosis?” He asks the banter to continue even with his shallow breaths. “I’d say rib contusion for sure, and that cut doesn’t look too deep.” Robby hums, looking at his ribs. “I’ve had worse.”

You roll your eyes, going for the cart in the room. Grabbing gloves, some gauze, and saline before returning to Robby. “You know this is probably gonna sting, right?” He nods, but when you dab the wound on his ribs. He flinches, just enough that you can see it on his face.

His eyes squeezed shut, and his breath trembled. You take a long pause. Pulling the saline from the wound. “Breath, Robby.” He does, a shaky breath, but you’ll take what you can get.

You finish cleaning and bandaging him up pretty quickly. Pulling his scrub top down and throwing away your gloves. You sit down next to him on the peds bed. Your shoulder brushes by accident. At first, Robby goes stiff. Defensive of his space until a moment passes, and he leans into it. Just enough for you to feel his weight against you.

You realize then that he might trust you a bit more than he thought he did. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask. His voice cracks under the pressure before he clears his throat. “I had… I needed to stay under control.” There’s a long silence. “Robby, you don’t need to be that way with me.” Something in Robby breaks at your honest words.

He turns to meet your gaze. Something rare is there. Past the calm, the authority, and the clinical distance. Something that reminds you,  and Robby, that he is human. “You worry too much,” he whispers. You chuckle, “You scare me too much, acting like you’re a superhero.” You answer right back.

Robbys breath stutters in his chest. A faint, humorless puff leaves him. “I only try to be a superhero when you’re watching.” He admits, and your chest aches in what kind of way you’re unsure.

Without overthinking everything, you grab hold of his hand. In any other setting, Robby would pull away. The professional boundaries, the image of what this could cause. Robbys pride. Just this morning, Robby just lets you, just lets the moment linger and be.

Robby fingers curl into your slender ones with a bit of hesitation. Unsure if he’s allowed to fully feel what is happening between the two of you. You give his hand a squeeze. “Robby, you need to be invincible. I just want you to be you.”

He seems to take your words, mulling them over in his head before swallowing hard. Looking back at you. “Don’t say things like that unless you mean it.” You smile, “I do.”

There is a warm, fragile silence that falls over the two of you. Sitting in peds. He seems to release a breath Robby has been holding since the bay 2. You shift into his side, careful of the bruise, cheek brushing again his shoulder. A gives your hand an unguarded, soft squeeze.

A whisper, “Thank you,” falls from his lips. You smile, looking towards the colorful, animal-painted wall. “Always Robby, always.”

And just for a little while, the peds room is silent. No shouting, no alarms. Just you and Robby, leaning into each other for the first time. The rest of the world held off by a door. The fragile choice to stay with each other.