theonewiththefanfics

           The whole conversation had lasted barely ten seconds, and she was already in a horrible mood. And it didn’t improve with the next passing ones. Not as she snapped open her winter coat, not as she violently spun her code, not as she pulled open the narrow metal door, not as she shoved her bag and outerwear inside, and definitely, not as Robby moved from his own locker to lean on his shoulder beside her.

           “Actually, very specifically, with this. I’m your boss when it concerns your shifts, whether or not I think you’re pushing yourself too close to a burnout, with making sure my team is healthy and rested. Which is why, as your boss, I told you to take the Christmas week off. I have no use of you here, exhausted and making mistakes.”

           “That’s rich coming from you, Dr. Hypocritical. You should do as you say, not just read me morale. Maybe you should take Christmas off, hmm?”

           She glanced around the locker door, Robby’s face straight. “I’m Jewish.”

           “Happy Yule?”

           “Hanukkah. And it’s already done. And you’re off shift.”

           “Whatever. I told you, I wanted to work.” Y/N huffed, ignoring him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just because you don’t know how to listen to a woman when she’s expressing her wants, is not my problem. I’m working a double today, by the way, so change the fucking schedule.”

           Gently, he took the top of the locker and closed it halfway, so she could do nothing but face him. “Spike, you’ve barely had one day off in between four rounds of six days on. You need a break.”

           “And I will take one,” Y/N bit out. “But not right now. After the New Year, maybe. Give me seven off starting January 2nd, if it’s so pressing to you.”

           Spike, she scoffed. She may not have had a second name, but the nickname sure had stuck ever since her first year as a med student. But it was unfortunately fitting, if this interaction was taken as an example. Besides, not everyone had the guts to talk to their chief attending in such a manner, and when Jack Abbot entered the fray, she couldn’t stop the remark of “Oh great. Tweedle Dum is also here” from slipping past her lips.

           The night shift attending frowned, pointing at her but looking at Robby. “What’s she doing here?”

           “Pointing’s rude.” Y/N gave him a glare. “Did mom never teach you?”

           “My mom’s dead.”

           “Yeah, probably because you pointed her to death.”

           “Okay, so who the fuck pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” Abbot let out a surprised chuckle.

           “Two old white men, who can’t stop putting their noses into things that don’t concern them.”

           “Alright,” Robby pushed away from the lockers, probably done with her shitty attitude this early in the morning, but mercifully, Ellis entering the room that exact moment gave Y/N the perfect opportunity to escape into the fray of the Pitt, Shen pulling her in for an incoming trauma.

           Blessed be the Christmas craze, though, as there was so much going on, nobody, but especially Robby, had a chance to pull her away and scold her about overworking herself. Not when an MVC came in, not when half the nursing staff were down with the flu, not when Robby needed literally every single hand on deck to manage the department.

           By the time she could slip away for a few minutes to enjoy her poor excuse of a lunch, Y/N had discharged two women who’d picked a fight in a perfume store, shattering bottles and getting fragments of glass embedded into their skins. She was sure she could taste the rank scent of Chanel No 5 in her Cup Noodle ramen. A migraine was already on its way, and a scrub change would not help with this.

           “Care for some company?”

           Y/N lifted her eyes from the yellow broth, if you could call it that, and looked at Robby, who was hovering by the entrance while she was sitting against the wall, a sandwich protectively held in his grip. “Not from you, no.”

           “Tough luck.” The bastard shrugged. “'Cause you’re getting it.”

           Huffing, she gave him her most scalding glare, but still shifted closer to lean her back against the lockers, so Robby had space to slide down and sit as comfortably on the floor as one could.

           For a while, they just sat and ate their respective lunches in silence, but she could feel Robby eyeing her from the side the whole time. After thoroughly chewing and swallowing, he said, “Is that one of those Bu-budlak ramens?”

           “You mean Buldak?” She raised a brow.

           “The one where we had the kid come in for an ulcer two weeks ago.”

           Despite her pissy mood, she snorted and shook her head. “Uh, no. These are just plain old cornerstone ramen. Buldak actually deserves some finessing and class.”

           “Isn’t that shit insanely spicy though?”

           “It’s fine. And I only indulge in it from time to time.” Y/N tipped back the plastic cup and scraped the last bits of the broken ramen into her mouth with the spoon she’d stolen from the breakroom and stashed in her locker. It was her favorite spoon, and she’d be damned if someone else took it. “It can actually be delicious. At least I think so. But I also add things on, like a boiled egg or some actual cheese, not just the powder and spice paste. Besides, that kid dumped five of the hot sauce packets as a dare. I think people who do eat it every day would get an ulcer from such an amount.”

           “Teenagers,” Robby snorted at the same time as Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Will do anything to impress a cute girl. Even if it lands them in the ED.”

           “Sorry to disappoint, but from personal and a lot of professional experience, you men don’t grow out of it.”

           “I dunno,” Robby shrugged. “I’d like to think I’m not the same idiot as I was when I was fifteen.”

           “You sure?” She gave him an appraising glance. “Is that why you were driving your motorcycle without a helmet during summer? No, right. That was just general dumbassery.”

           He sucked on his teeth and crumpled up the plastic wrap of the long-gone sandwich and nudged her foot with his own. “Touché, sweetheart. Touché.”

           It’d been a dark period in Robby’s life, which they were lucky enough to joke about nowadays, but as someone who cared, it’d been hard to watch him go through it. They hadn’t had this open camaraderie since the beginning. Oh no. Y/N and Robby had been like oil and water, volatile and never mixing.

           She’d been a ‘cowboy’, and he’d been a hypocritical dick, taking favorites with the male students, rather than the more capable women, even if it wasn’t so overtly obvious. And she hadn’t been afraid to call him out on it. She didn’t expect coddling or him being softer around her because she was a woman, but she did expect fairness, and Robby was anything but towards his female med students and residents. How he’d dismissed Samira’s concern with the mercury case, how he’d not listened to when Santos had her suspicions about Frank, how he’d dismissed McKay’s gut instinct of the boy who had an ominous list of girls’ names, only for it all come back and bite him in the ass. Hard.

           That whole day had been one disaster after another, culminating in a breakdown in pedes for Robby. And despite how he’d pissed her off, Y/N hadn’t hesitated to crouch down before him when she found him rocking back and forth, clutching his Star of David and muttering what seemed to be a prayer in a language she didn’t understand, the words growing in intensity and desperation the more he talked.

           “Robby, look at me.” She kneeled before him, gently touching his wrist.

           He just shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as if that was how he could turn the world off. If he didn’t see it, it didn’t exist. “I couldn’t save her.”

           “You couldn’t save her, because she was already dead.” It might’ve sounded way too blunt and harsh for that moment, but it was the truth. “You’re not a miracle worker, Robby. You’re not a god or a wizard with some scroll to bring back those who are gone. This wasn’t a code that could be managed with some chest compressions or adrenaline. This was a bullet. To the heart. If she’d come in with the first wave of trauma, maybe then, but only maybe, we could’ve done something. Her death is not on you.”

           “No, it is,” he gasped through tears and hiccups. “Jake’s right, it’s my fault Leah’s dead.”

           That sent another round of sobs cracking through him, but Y/N didn’t relent. She didn’t go away, she didn’t press. She was just there, grounding Robby with her touch and presence. “Leah’s dead because a sick bastard decided to hurt people. She’s gone not because you didn’t do something, but because of the shooter… and I know it hurts, and it will hurt for a long ass time, but you don’t have to carry this alone. We’re all here. And we need you.”

           “I can’t go out there.” He shook his head, the heels of his palms digging against his eyes.

           “I know. And you shouldn’t have to. I wish you didn’t have to.”

           For a moment, silence settled between them, but then Robby nodded, taking Y/N’s arm for balance as he slowly started to rise from where he’d curled himself as small as he possibly could, trying to hide from the pain and the universe.

           As he went to push her away, she grabbed onto his wrist and pulled it tight against the middle of her chest. Where her heart beat.  His red-rimmed eyes snapped to hers. “We don’t forget the ones we lose. Ever. They stay with us in here. And we continue living because there needs to be someone out here that remembers them.”

           That was the moment their relationship shifted, a sort of understanding and respect growing. It went from barbs to good-natured snarking. From annoyed eye rolls and tutting to huffs of laughter and light shakes of head. And for a while, it seemed fine. They went on, Y/N moved up in her residency, until Robby came in for his last shift before sabbatical.

Since that very morning, something kept nagging at Y/N. Something she couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was like her sixth sense was screaming and throwing up every red flag it could, but without actually saying what the fuck was wrong. At first, she thought it was simply because the 4th of July brought out every possible idiot, as unfortunately, most holidays did, but when Robby entered, things clicked in place. Especially after realizing he’d been the fucking brain-damaged idiot driving by the entrance of the Pitt on a motorcycle without a helmet.

           Through the whole shift, she observed their chief attending with a hawk’s gaze, but it wasn’t until he pulled her to the side and placed something in her open palm.

           It was a pen. Sleek with the monogram of PTMC engraved on the side.

           It was his pen.

           The one he never gave anyone, even Dana, because it would sure as hell get stolen by someone, and good luck getting it back in an ED.

           “Keep it.” He’d given her a tight smile when she tried to return it after signing the discharge papers in her hands. “To remember me by while I’m gone.”

           Y/N hadn’t been able to stomach any food, nor could she slug down the coffee Lupe had practically shoved into her hand during a passing moment. Because she couldn’t afford to miss when Robby left. She had to be faster than him.

           Luckily, the whole ordeal of the systems shutting down and the hospital needing to go analog, was more a headache for the higher ups, including Robby as the chief attending, than residents, so by the time they were able to hand everything to the nightshift, she was out the door, backpack high on her shoulder, and practically sprinting across the parking lot.

           Robby emerged twenty minutes later, no doubt after saying goodbye to Jack and Dana and everyone else that looked up to him, while Y/N sat on his motorcycle as if it was hers.

That made him stop dead in his tracks, the helmet strapped to his bag, not in his hand as if he’d be putting it on his head, hitting his hip with a dull thud.

           “What are you doing, kid?”

           “I dunno.” She swung her legs back and forth on both sides of the bike. “What are you doing, old man?”

           Robby hung his head, shaking it as he made his way to where he’d left his motorcycle. He nudged his head to the ED entrance. “There’s cake inside. Dana insisted, given how this is my last shift. You should go grab some before Shen takes the rest. He and his sweet tooth won’t spare you just because you’re friends.”

           Y/N hummed. “I’ll pass.”

           His brows rose. It was a known thing that she was pretty much addicted to sugar. “Care to tell me why?”

           “Because I have this gut feeling I know what you’re planning on doing. I’ve had it screaming at me the whole fucking day.” Robby visibly stiffened at her words, snapping his face away so she couldn’t see him sucking on his teeth. “And I didn’t see it the first time. So, now that I do, you bet your ass I’m not gonna let it go without doing something at least.”

           “Kid…”

           “Nope.” Y/N shook her head. “You can lie to me all you want, and you’ve probably fooled a lot of people in that hospital, your friends even. But you haven’t fooled me, so… Would you be up for a little meeting?”

           “I’m tired.” He hung his head. “I just wanna go home.”

           “Sucks to be you then, cause I wanna go on a little road trip. Just twenty minutes. Not too far.”

           For a couple of minutes, they just stared at one another, Robby’s gaze resigned and worn and devoid of any hope, Y/N’s determined like a lioness on a hunt, until he gave a small dip of his chin, and she scooted backwards so he could slide into the driver’s position.

           Nimble fingers took his backpack and unclipped the helmet, her hand weaving around his side to present it to him. “Not gonna happen if you don’t wear it.”

           Robby hung his head. “I’d rather you put it on.”

           She patted his ribs. “You’re not calling the shots right now. Helmet. Now. Or I go inside and tell on you to Dana.”

           He knew it was futile to argue with her. Once she set her mind on something, it took a lot to bring her back, so reluctantly, Robby obeyed, but not without grumbling about her own naked head.

           With soft touches and gestures of her hand, she allowed him to drive them until she patted trice on his thigh, signaling they were at the destination.

A large plain of grass scattered with headstones stretched on their right as Y/N hopped from behind him, and Robby turned off the bike.

           “Why are we here?” he sighed out, hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he followed her across the cemetery.

           “I want you to meet Amy.” Y/N nodded her head towards one of the headstones. Robby’s brows lifted and his gaze softened, as she looked over her shoulder. “She’s my best friend.”

           They walked the rest of the way in silence. They stood silent as she dug out a blanket from her backpack, they stood silent as she laid it out before the headstone, they remained silent as she got a couple of candles out, one given to Robby without even a glance.

           Reluctantly, he took it, his fingers brushing along hers for a little longer than would befit a professional relationship, but he didn’t take off metal top of it. It was Y/N who spoke up, breaking the tension, as they settled on the plaid blanket.

           “I can’t pretend I’ll ever understand what such a long time, what witnessing so many deaths does to a person. I think our medical system is fucked. I think it would take like two hundred years to make any meaningful change…” She looked at the ground where she’d planted forget-me-nots for Amy just a couple of weeks prior.

“We keep taking care of others, but who takes care of us? Who helps us with the burnout? With the pain and grief? Don’t we deserve a bit of grace and comfort, too? People think those we lose are just another statistic, just another person that didn’t make it, and we file them away in little manila folders. Like it doesn’t rip a piece of our hearts out each time we can’t get them back from a flatline.”

And when their eyes met, she didn’t dare let him drop the gaze. “Who helps us not step over that final edge when it’s just gotten too much?”

           Tears slid down Robby’s cheeks as he let out a shaky laugh, pain as clear as the dark sky above them, written even in the smile lines around his eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, just bit and pinched his lips until roughly he asked, “What gave me away?”

           “Your pen.”

           “My pen?”

           “Mhm,” Y/N confirmed, playing with the matchbox she’d produced from her pocket. “The day before Amy… passed, she gave me her iPod. She told me it was because she was tired of me stealing it to connect it to the speaker during our sleepovers. Said her parents had gifted her a new one for her birthday. I thought it was odd, cause her birthday was in May, but it was already July, and I hadn’t seen her use the new one. She said she’d shattered the screen recently, so it was at a repair shop.”

           She huffed, trying to blink away the burning sensation in her eyes, and sniffled. “I didn’t call her out on it. Just… shrugged it off. I’d known she was doing badly for a while; her parents even made her see a therapist, and she’d told me about some of the sessions. She wasn’t the same girl I’d met in primary school, but she always put on a smile around me, so I didn’t think too much. Teenage angst and rebellion and whatnot. But that final day… fuck, it felt like my old best friend was finally back. We’d just sent off our university applications, and she was just so supportive of me and my med school aspirations, so happy… she looked so happy. Relieved… I didn’t know she hadn’t applied…” The grey stone with Amy’s name stared back at her. “I wish I’d talked to her on the phone a bit longer that day. I wish I’d hugged her tighter. That I’d invited her to stay over at mine for the night like we used to do.”

           “I don’t think she was weak.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse as she spoke. “I don’t think she took the easy way out. But I don’t think she thought about the hearts she’d break with her decision. I know hers was hurting… and I missed so many signs, and those are my mistakes to bear, but she was also wrong. It took me ages to finally get to a point where I didn’t blame her, or myself, or everyone else around me. Not blaming myself was the hardest, though, because maybe I could’ve been a better friend. Maybe I could’ve been just a better person, and I could’ve helped… so, fuck me with a fork, if I see the signs I didn’t recognize before, and do nothing about it.”

           It was such a her thing to do, to make a crude and sarcastic remark to try and alleviate a tense situation, Robby seemingly couldn’t help but laugh even as he was steadily crying.

           “When did she pass?” She could hear the tears in his voice.

           Y/N looked at the headstone, and that’s when she saw Robby glance as well, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks, judging by his reaction. “July 4th. Today’s the ninth anniversary.”

           “I’m so sorry.”

           She gave him a small smile. “You’re not at fault here, Robby. And I know I’m not either. I’ve had years of therapy to process all that happened, besides… I’ve been there too.” She lifted her shoulders and tilted her head to the side, sighing. “I can’t pretend I know the pain and hurt you carry. It’s different for each of us. But I also know I can’t lose someone else. Not like this. Not without at least trying. I don’t expect I’ve magically cured what is very clearly clinical depression with a single fucking conversation, and I’m definitely not qualified to be a therapist. It’s a miracle in and of itself my bedside manner is spectacular.” That elicited a wet laugh from both of them. She was Spike, after all. “But I know there is light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve seen it.”

           Robby dragged a hand down his face, staring at Amy’s headstone, cheeks tear-streaked and shining. “And what if there’s a cave-in? What if there’s a block there so hard and heavy I can’t lift it?”

           Slowly, she inched her hand towards him and took his palm. “Then that’s when your friends come in with pickaxes and help you. As long as you shine a guiding light where we need to meet you at.”

           It was like those words broke some dam as Robby let out a gut-wrenching sob so hard it broke Y/N’s soul. It was natural, almost instinctual, how he leaned his head against her chest and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body as close as possible. She was pretty much straddling him, but she didn’t care, as her legs weaved around his hips, pressing them tight in reassurance.

           In that moment, it didn’t matter that he was her attending and twice her age. It didn’t matter HR would have a field day if someone from the hospital caught them in that position. Because in that moment, Robby was letting go of what seemed like years’ worth of heartache, of pain and torment and hurt he’d gathered and tried to shove in some deep, dark corner.

           Y/N held him through it all. As his sobs turned to brutal hiccups, as his tears drenched the scrubs she was wearing, as he held onto her like she was his last lifeline. It was a terrifying realization that maybe she was. Maybe this conversation, maybe her insistence on not letting him drive home, had been the only reason Robby hadn’t already taken that step he couldn’t come back from.

           Five minutes turned to ten, then to fifteen, and twenty had passed before Robby finally seemed ready to pull back. But not away. He didn’t pull away, and that was a start.

           “I come here for a picnic every month,” Y/N whispered, allowing him to rest his forehead against her temple, chest heaving with ragged breaths. “But I always come on this date as well. Seems shitty to miss it. And I tell Amy about all the shit that happens at the hospital. I’ve told her every single thing about you, and how much I hated you at the beginning. What a jackass you were, reaming me for things Whitaker also did, but you let it slide with him, fucking boy’s club and all that.” Robby let out a laugh that was more of a sob. “I told her about Pittfest, and how I was just about to jump Gloria when I heard she wanted to have you speak for the cameras. I just… talk to her. She can’t respond, but it’s easier. In here after I talk.” Y/N tapped against her chest. “And if you’d like, you can talk to me. Or come see Amy. Preferably, you’d also see a licensed therapist that specializes in healthcare practitioners, but if you need to start somewhere… just know we’re here for you. I am here for you.”

           “You shouldn’t have to take this burden.”

           “It’s not a burden to care,” she protested, running her fingers along the nape of his neck. “We walk through fire for people we don’t know. I don’t mind getting a bit singed for those I love.”

           Robby’s breath hitched against where it brushed her neck, but he didn’t move. And neither did she. He didn’t ask how she meant those words, and Y/N didn’t explain. It wasn’t the right moment. Not when he was so raw and open, and still possibly teetering on the edge of a cliff.

           After a moment, his hand shifted to his hoodie, and she slid half off of his lap, creating a bit of distance, but not detaching fully. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and exhaled before taking and twisting her wrist so she had a palm up. He took her hand and squeezed it, hard, but she couldn’t really feel his skin over the metal and plastic digging into her hand. When he let go, and she opened it, his motorcycle keys stared back at her. For a second, cold terror rushed through her, but when she looked up, there was a slightly different light in his eyes. A light that hadn’t been there the whole day. Like he was ready to change something. Like he was ready for help.

           Y/N pressed her lips together and nodded, holding tight onto the keys before softly grimacing.

           “What?” Robby tilted his head to the side, no doubt trying to figure out what the pinched expression meant.

            “Would you mind too much if I gave these to Dr Abbot?” She winced at her words. “Until you come back from sabbatical and decide what to do with it?”

           “I trust you with it. You also seemed to kinda enjoy it back there. Wouldn’t mind it if you took it for a spin. With the helmet, of course.”

           “Oh, it’s not that.” She wasn’t gonna call out how the redness spreading up his neck didn’t seem to be from the breakdown as he glanced her over. Nor was she gonna mention how much she’d enjoyed holding onto Robby’s body as they traveled down the Pittsburgh roads, wind whipping through her hair and caressing her face.

           “Then can I ask what is it?”

           “It’s humiliating.”

           “You just held me for twenty minutes as I sobbed all over your shoulder. I’m your attending. I think I’m the humiliated one here, so believe me, whatever it is, it can't be worse than that.”

           She bit down on her lower lip and winced once more. “I don’t have my license.”

           “What?” The single word was so deadpan that it made her roll her eyes.

           “Yes, I know, I’m twenty-seven years old, and I don’t have a fucking driver’s license. Sue me.” Y/N allowed herself the chuckle that escaped, especially as Robby laughed too. It seemed the sound was coming easier now, not the fake push she’d heard throughout the day. “I don’t have a parking space for it, so if it’s alright with you, I’ll hand these off to Jack when I go in for my next shift.”

           “Of course,” his words were soft. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about the logistics for you.”

           “Nothing to apologize for.” She gave him an encouraging smile before lifting the candle. “Would you care to light one for Amy?”

           Robby swallowed hard, but when the tears came, he didn’t brush them away. He allowed himself, for the first time in ages, to feel the pain. To let it course through and shift his DNA. Y/N watched him process it all before he nodded. “I’d like that.”

           She tried to do it with a single match, but this July 4th was proving to be very fucking windy, and two went out before she could even put them to the wick. “Bitchass little wooden sticks,” she grumbled, and her heart warmed hearing Robby huff a laugh.

           “I would’ve missed this,” he admitted when the wick to his candle was cradled by a flame, placing the metal cap on and putting it by Amy’s headstone.

           Y/N turned to where her friend lay below ground. “Hear that? Robina-bitch says he’d miss me.”

           Unbidden laughter broke from the man as her candle finally joined the one already alit on the grass.

           They took their moment to revel in the present, in their camaraderie and promises, until she let out a small “oh,” and started digging through her backpack again, but not before putting the motorcycle keys in a pocket. At that moment, it was purely symbolic because they’d have to get back home, and Robby was the only one of them who knew how to drive, but she’d keep them until the very last second.

           “What are you doing?”

           “Amy really loved crows and ravens and just all corvids and stuff. When I finally felt like I wouldn’t break her headstone in rage about two months after the funeral, I came to visit and saw this murder sitting in the trees.” Y/N opened a Tupperware box and took out three eggs, laying them neatly on the grass. “I read somewhere that they really like eggs, so I started bringing some during my visits. I’ve pretty much domesticated that flock. Besides, they remember faces, so I kinda feel like a witch knowing they’d recognise me. And they keep Amy company while they eat. Makes me feel like she’s not so alone. I’ll just leave them here for the morning when they come for breakfast.” She turned to look at him. “And you? Will you have breakfast with me?”

           When Robby nodded, choking on the small “yeah” he let out, Y/N could release the breath she’d been holding in her chest.

His head leaned against her shoulder, and she let him, her hand taking his and intertwining their fingers, gripping it as tight as he was gripping hers. Like he was terrified she’d disappear, and she’d do everything in her power to let him know she wouldn’t.

           Fuck professionalism, she thought to herself as she buried her nose in his hair, pressing a quick kiss to the top of it. “You’re not alone.”

           Fireworks passed over their heads unnoticed. Because he needed her present, and she’d be there if he let her. There’d be the next 4th of July for them to enjoy.

           After an hour, Robby seemed to be ready enough to go home. This time, when he put the helmet on her head, she didn’t protest. “Tit for tat.”

           “Only for this ride,” she grumbled when he clicked it in place under her chin. “If you end up keeping this organ-donor-making-machine, I expect there to be two helmets.”

           “You got it, Spike.”

           Y/N didn’t allow herself to imagine what the little glance towards her lips meant. Not the time or the place. Not right now, but maybe someday, a traitorous little voice corrected, but she pushed it so far down in the depths of her mind an archeologist would have a hard time finding it.

           He twisted forward, and she wound her arms across his stomach, holding onto him like an anchor. When he tried to turn down the street that’d take her to her apartment, she shook her head, motioning with her hand for him to continue straight towards his own complex.

           “I wanna make sure you get home alright,” she said as they idled by the red light.

           To her relief, Robby didn’t protest, just switched off the turn signal.

           When they disembarked, he helped Y/N open the compartment under the seat and put the helmet inside, the keys once again being slid into her hand, but he didn’t let go. Instead, his fingers wrapped around hers, and his thumb rubbed across the top of her hand.

           “Would you…” He cleared his throat, not daring to look at her. “Would you come up with me?” After a prolonged moment of silence, he added, “I don’t want to be alone.”

           “Of course,” seemed like the only response she could ever give. “I’ll stay however long you want me to.”

           She didn’t comment on the overtly clean apartment when they entered, and Robby switched on the lights. Or the boxes filled with stuff. Or the empty fridge and freezer that’d been unplugged, coffee grounds poured in bowls and left inside to soak up the smells. Y/N simply opened UberEats on her phone and ordered for both of them from the Indian place down the block as she shooed him off to the shower to wash the day off. His hand squeezed her fingers in question, and she responded in kind, promising to still be here when he emerged.

She was as loud as she could be, so he could hear her rattling around his place as she found the kettle in one box and two mugs and some plates in another. By the time Robby came back from his shower, the food had arrived, and she’d laid it out like a feast on the kitchen island, two steaming teas in between them.

           “I got dibs on the chicken tikka masala,” she said through a bite of cheese naan as she arranged a plate for Robby and some utensils.

Normal. Not dragging attention to anything. She treated him like it was simply an evening between friends. The hard talks would come later. When Y/N glanced up at him, a soft kind of look was on his face. Almost relieved. As if he hadn’t believed she’d stay after he’d disappeared inside the bathroom.

She nudged her chin towards him and the food. “Dig in before it gets cold.”

           His healing took time. There were good days and bad. There were moments where he said he felt like he’d taken ten steps back after taking five forwards. And Y/N was there for it all.

           She didn’t outright tell anyone about what happened after the shift on the 4th of July. Or their talk and confessions. She didn’t say a peep to Dana or Jack, but she didn’t need to. Not as she stopped Jack during a handoff a week later and gave him Robby’s motorcycle keys. “For safekeeping,” she’d said, and he just nodded, pulling her in such a tight hug, it took her breath away. When Y/N glanced at the charge nurse, she appeared to swallow a lump in her throat, giving a curt nod. Nobody said anything when they saw her wiping her bottom lashes.

           She didn’t say how that first night, when things were as fragile as cracked glass, sometime around two or three in the morning, she’d been awoken by an arm dragging her backwards to a solid chest. How before, when she’d moved towards his guest bedroom, he’d asked if she’d stay with him and hold him through the night.

           “Robby?” Y/N mumbled, brows furrowing as she twisted to face him, shoulder popping with the motion. “What’s wrong?”

           Tears streaked down his face, and even in the pitch black, she could see the fear, the pain; his chest stuttering. “I woke up, and you weren’t holding my hand anymore.”

           “ ‘M sorry,” she apologized, bringing his face to rest in the crook of her neck. “I’m not used to sleeping on this side of the bed.”

           When the next night came, and she returned from her shift, Y/N said nothing as Robby assumed the spot she’d slept on the previous night. He still woke up at least two times, but she remained there – facing him with his palm in hers.

She didn’t mention she regularly went over to Robby’s during his sabbatical and spent the nights after work, so much so, she now had a spare drawer for her stuff and was more familiar with his room, than her own, her roommate joking if Y/N wasn’t still paying her rent, she would be looking for someone else to give to room to. It wasn’t her story to tell. She was there for him, though, if he needed a hand to hold. She’d draw all her spikes back for him.

Jack had started coming around, too. When she’d first opened Robby’s door to find the night shift attending before her, the older man’s forehead turned into one giant wrinkle. Given her attire of some boy shorts and one of Robby’s old college shirts, she knew what he thought, but Y/N shook her head in dismissal and let him in.

“It’s not like that,” her voice was low as Robby had knocked out on the couch, an episode of Friends on the TV, volume turned down.

Jack hummed, shrugging off his jacket and putting it on one of the barstool-type chairs. “You sure?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but didn’t dare meet his gaze as she walked to one of the loveseats, and Jack assumed the other right opposite, the couch Robby’d been splayed on between them. “I’m here as a friend, as someone to lean on. Besides… it doesn’t matter what I feel, when it would only be to his detriment.”

For a moment, Jack was silent, looking at her profile as Y/N turned an absentminded eye to the TV.

“Would it, though?” his words were soft, and she took a glance at Jack.

“Would it, though, what?”

“Be to his detriment if he found out he had someone loving him in such a way?”

She bit down on her lip because it’d be a lie to say she hadn’t thought of it. During those worst nights, during the times when he cursed at her and told her to fuck off after a therapy session had dug just a bit too deep, she’d thought of confessing, thinking that maybe if Robby knew she loved him more than she should, that there was someone willing to wait, would help. But she also knew he was too raw, too vulnerable, and it’d be more like she was taking advantage of him.

She shook her head, looking at Robby. Her heart hurt, knowing that maybe when he was better and ready for a relationship, she wouldn’t be his choice. “It’s not what he needs right now.”

Jack didn’t press on. She still felt him weighing and observing her, but he didn’t mention the fact that he knew she was in love with Robby. After a while, she rose from the seat, asking whether or not he wanted a beer, when he stopped her in her tracks.

“I just… I wanted to say thank you.”

Y/N frowned at him. “What for?” She hadn’t done anything at work that’d elicit such explicit gratefulness.

“For seeing him that day.” He turned his hazel eyes towards his snoring best friend. She resumed her seat and pulled her feet under her butt, fingers fiddling with the hem of Robby’s shirt. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost another person I love.”

Her eyes shifted to the rubber wedding band he was twirling. “Yeah,” she sighed. “Me too.”

His mouth opened in a small 'o', an understanding dawning on him. A different kind of loss for her, but one that altered a person's being to the very core. One he intimately understood. They didn't speak further of it, but during handoffs, he started to give her quick hugs and a small, “I'm here if you need to talk,” murmured into her ear.

Jack became a permanent fixture as Robby went further on his journey of therapy, and soon enough Dana appeared on his doorstep, all of them there for their chief attending, for their friend, as he walked down the road to getting better.

As days passed, they didn’t talk about what was going on at the Pitt. The therapist he’d been seeing had suggested that all work stuff be left out for now when conversing with friends, unless they were in a session where they could process the trauma and grief gained there. Well, they didn’t talk about it until Y/N had to bring it up as she was being rotated to nights.

“Why? What’s happened? Is Dr. Al-Hashimi giving you a hard time?”

Y/N bit down on her lip as she stretched, watching him with a wary gaze. It was a month and a half down the line in his sabbatical, barely a month into therapy for him. But he deserved to know why she couldn’t spend nights at his anymore.

“Baran’s good, so no conflict there. At least not anymore, not since she pulled back on pushing her Gen-AI bullshit.” She didn’t miss his slight flinch, and how he closed his eyes to process, but when they were open and back on hers, there was no jealousy or hurt to be seen. Y/N huffed a snort and plopped down next to him on his worn couch, throwing up her feet onto the coffee table. The shower could wait. “Apparently, night shift doesn’t know how to party. Or they party too much, take your pick.” She dragged a hand down her face and felt heat rise in her body, because it was such a Robby habit she’d picked up. “It was like five PM when an ambulance came in. Wanna guess who was the patient?”

Robby shrugged. “It could be literally anyone.”

“Ellis.” Y/N let out a laugh. “Turns out she’d gone out to celebrate a cousin’s engagement, and Shen tagged along. One thing led to another, led to Parker on the bar top, led to her drunk and crashing down, giving herself a broken clavicle. The two idiots were so intoxicated when they pulled up, they were still giggling and singing. That’s why I’m going to nights, to cover for Parker.”

She watched him bite down on his lip and mull over her words. Yes, a small smile was on his lips, no doubt thinking back on the stupid things he’d done when younger and drunk. But there was a certain apprehension in his eyes, a vulnerability in his voice when he asked, pretty much whispered, “Does it have to be you that covers for her?”

Y/N heard the unspoken words – I’m afraid to be alone right now. And another underlying fear – am I too much for you that you need to escape from me? Did you apply for the nights to get away from me?

And she’d been terrified, too, when Abbot and Baran had approached her, Robby was still too early on in the whole process for her to be sure everything would be good if she left him completely alone. Days could be filled up with things, with hobbies and routines. Nights, however, brought out the real monsters.

“Dr. Al-Hashimi recommended me to Jack.” Y/N shifted on the couch and took one of his hands in his in reassurance. “Said I was one of the best and they could use me while Ellis recovers. But this is not immediate. I still have to finish this week as usual, and then next week I have off to get my rhythm on nights.”

And she could see how much Robby disliked that fact, but he just nodded. “Well, she is right. You are one of the best, that’s for sure. Jack’s lucky to have you, if only for a little while.”

She didn’t need him to voice out loud the question of whether it was only for a little while.

Y/N gave him a smile. “I like nights, but there’s just something about the little group we have going on that makes it feel like family. Like home. I mean, it’s incredibly dysfunctional, don’t get me wrong, but it’s my dysfunctional. Like a TV that doesn’t work, but give it a few taps and the picture becomes clear again.” She stood up and stretched one last time, folding in on herself with a groan when she felt the vertebrae in her back pop. “But enough work talk. I am starving, and I could smell that lasagna when I was coming up the stairs.”

He’d begun cooking again and was actually fairly good. It was nice to come back somewhere with a warm homemade meal ready for her to eat. “Go get a shower then.” Robby ushered her to where his room had the ensuite. “I’ll warm it up for you.”

But before he could disappear around the corner and into the kitchen area, she grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him in a hug. “Well, get through this, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

His soft smile was filled with gratitude and something she’d only recently begun to see in his eyes again. Hope.

           When Robby finally returned from the three months he was away, she didn’t make a big deal out of it, mainly because she’d promised she wouldn’t. Besides, she still had to keep up her spiky reputation. So as he walked in, taking his sunglasses off and a deep steadying breath in, Y/N gave him her usual nod and a sturdy, “Welcome back, Cap. Ready to get back into the fray?”

           “You’ve been holding down the fort?” he smiled. Genuine. True. Eyes crinkling at the corners. Grateful.

           “You know it.”

           And that’s how they’d been ever since. They still snarked and butted heads from time to time, but there was a mutual understanding on a level others didn’t know. And for her, something way deeper had formed in her heart as well, had been for a while.

           Yet still, despite them bearing to each other some of the largest scars they possessed, Y/N hadn’t told him everything about herself, so now, as it was two months since his return, five since that fateful July, the conversation they were having was leaning way too close to a still festering wound in her own life.

           “You know,” Robby said, eyes soft and kind. “I think this is the first talk today where you haven’t tried to bite my head off.”

           “And you ruined it.” Y/N rolled her eyes and stood, but she didn’t make it far when Robby’s hand wrapped around her wrist.

           “Nope.” Her attending shook his head, and pulled her gently back down. “Come on. Spill. What is the real issue for your attitude today? You called Jack dumb this morning.”

           “Correction, I implied, he was the dumber one of the two of you.”

           “And there you go again – deflecting.”

           “You know what, my problem is you,” she grumbled. “You took me off rotation when I specifically asked to be on shift.”

           “I’m sorry.” He looked genuinely bewildered by her reaction. “People would kill to have holidays off and spend it with their loved ones. I was just trying to do you a favor.”

           She gave him a sarcastic grimace to match her even more sarcastic words. “Well, I’m not like other girls. Besides, all my loved ones are here, so…” The last part was barely a mumble, but Robby still heard it with the way he shifted and glanced her over.

           “Okay, look…” Y/N sighed, reigning in her temper. He was just trying to be a good and kind attending. A friend. He didn’t know her situation. He couldn’t have. The decision he’d made for the shifts had been done with good intentions, not to hurt her. “I just… I’m not a big fan of Christmas and all the crap that happens during and around it. Especially in my family. Being on shift was a good reason to escape it all.”

           “Can I ask why you’d want to escape Christmas? You’ll be a fellow and an attending soon enough. Getting off on holidays will be pretty impossible. You don’t have to answer.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I know this is a very personal question.”

           “It’s fine.” She huffed and dragged a hand down her face. “I just… my family’s very particular, and I’ve just never really fit in. My mom, she’s this big-shot lawyer for a huge hedge fund, and dad’s the CFO of a tech company.”

           “Wow, so you’re loaded then,” Robby chuckled.

           “Correction, my parents are. Anyways, they host this Christmas dinner, it’s almost like a gala thing, and there’s a fucking dress code and hair code and nail code and everything-code and all that bullshit. And I just… I’ve never been impressive enough. Not to them. So every time Christmas rolls around, I just get this pit in my stomach knowing I have to attend and pretend I’m good enough to be there.”

           Robby shook his head, brows furrowed and arms resting on his bent knees. “You’re one of the best residents at this ED. Call me crazy, but getting through medical school and successfully moving up the career ladder in one of the hardest fields that exists is pretty fucking impressive. You’re one of the best here! Besides, you’re their daughter. That should be reason enough to have a spot.”

           “Yes, but the issue is I’m not perfect enough.” She sighed, hitting her head against the lockers. Or would have, had Robby’s hand not shot out to cradle her head. She would not allow the feeling of his touch to reignite the crush she’d been pushing down for years. Not now, not ever. “I have never and will never be. Yes, I went to med school, but I wasn’t top of my class. The tenth percentile means nothing when I could’ve been number one. I matched with PTMC, but I didn’t match with Johns Hopkins. I’ve picked emergency medicine, and I feel like I’m thriving here… but I didn’t go into neuro. I have an apartment, sure. But I live with a roommate and have to split bills. I’m fine… but I’m not good. Not great. I’m never enough for them. And let’s not even mention the fact that I’m single and have been since residency started. I’m just a mountain of shame in the shape of a woman for them. God forbid, I ever tell them I don’t want kids… that’s just gonna be a can of Chernobyl-sized worms.”

           “I just… I can’t have another Christmas with them, pretending I’m alright with their words, smiling for that fucking family photo when I wanna scream and rip my hair out of my head. I’m on my own there. I don’t have anyone in my fucking corner…” She shook her head, freeing her face from Robby’s touch from where he’d brushed away the traitorous tears that’d slipped out. “This is fucking humiliating and pathetic, I’m sorry.”

           “Hey, no, don’t apologize.” His brows furrowed as soothed her. “Sounds like a tough situation… I mean, I could come with you. Be your date. You’ve been there for me at my very worst. You don’t have to do this on your own. I’m here.”

She let out a sad snort. “Thanks, but no thanks. They’d find a way to spin that. Say I’m fucking my way up to an attending position by being a toy for the chief attending or something along those lines.”

“Seriously?” His brows rose to his hairline.

“You have not met my parents. If you were going on your own, they’d probably adore you.” She scoffed. “I mean, what’s not to love – steady job, experienced, smart, handsome, probably with a 401k. An attending’s salary also doesn’t hurt, which I presume is pretty swell. They’d probably try to set you up with an aunt or a cousin of mine.” The rueful smile on her face was as sour as the acid roiling in her stomach.

“Even if I was explicitly coming as your partner?”

“They’d take it as a fucking challenge if anything.” Y/N shrugged. “It’s fine. Not my first rodeo at that clown show. Unfortunately, most likely won’t be my last either.”

“Can I ask why you do it then?”

Y/N tilted her head to look at him.

“Why go back to those holidays? Why endure it?”

A huff escaped her as she toyed with the spoon in her hand. “I guess because it’s expected of me. Because if I just clench my teeth and smile through it, at least for a while, I won’t have some text or call from them to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am.”

His knuckles nudged her elbow before they slowly slid down her forearm and into her palm, fingers intertwining with hers. When she looked at Robby, the intensity of his gaze almost took her breath away. “You’re not a disappointment. You’re stubborn and set in your ways, and so sure of yourself, others would call you bossy. But in truth, you’re brilliant, and smart, and every single person who knows you is damn fucking lucky they do.”

It was hard for her to hear him say such things and mean them, to only find truth in his eyes. She wanted to brush it off, throw out some remark, and move on, but neither his touch nor his look allowed her to. With difficulty, Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. Just stating the obvious facts.”

Her eyes trailed over his face, one she’d gotten to know intimately, one she’d spent evenings and nights holding against her collarbone as he battled his demons and leaned on her for support. She knew the crow-lines around his eyes like her own fingerprints, knew that despite everything, under that beard hid deep smile lines, perpetual marks of the happiness he’d experienced. Salt and pepper hair she’d run her hands through when he’d needed her touch to ground him, and those damn brown cow eyes. Ones that’d been so devoid of life and hope just less than half a year ago, now filled with renewed vigor and determination. And something else, as she watched his pupils dilate and shift down to her mouth.

But whatever would’ve happened, didn’t because right in that moment, Baran rushed in, making Y/N snap back in place.

Fuck, when had she started to lean in?

“MVC coming in three minutes,” the older woman breathed out. Before she could say more, her brows drew together and pointed at the resident on the ground. “What are you doing here? And is that my spoon?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Why is no one happy to see me?” Y/N pocketed the utensil. “And no, it isn’t. It’s mine, so back off.”

With a grunt, both she and Robby stood. There wasn’t time to unpack what the last moments after their conversation had meant. Not when she needed to have her hands in someone’s open chest in a matter of minutes. And still, throughout it all, she was aware of Robby’s presence, of his front against her back when he leaned over to steady her hand as a slight tremor rushed through, adrenaline spiking in her body, steadying her in a moment of need.

Y/N didn’t let the looks of others get to her. Especially not the smirk Samira threw her way, nor when Santos wiggled her brows towards Princess and Perlah, and even Javadi and Mel allowed their lips to pull up in a soft smile.

By the time the patient was stabilized, they didn’t have time to celebrate, and nobody had time to tease her either. December was insane, filled with broken bones, concussions, and vehicle accidents due to the ice, but it was something about the holidays that made it twice as bad, and Y/N was a zombie by the time she should have been clocking out of the shift. And yet she still had the whole night ahead of her, because of course she'd just had to say she'd do it, simply to spite someone.

She handed Jack her pad, who’d walked up beside her at the HUB where she’d been leaning against, rubbing at her eyes with more vigor than necessary.

“You alright there, kid?”

“Stellar. Perfect. Amazing. Never felt this good in my life.” The words were said with absolutely no emotion, and it made him snort. “Who the fuck let me decide I wanted to be a doctor?”

“Go home. Rest. I have no use of you dead on your feet.”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “I promised I’d pull a double, I’m pulling a double.”

“Your promises mean shit when you can’t see straight. Hey, brother!” Jack called over her shoulder. “Come take your girl home.”

She was just about to hiss, “I’m not his girl,” when Robby sauntered over, battle-worn and tired to the bone, but with a smile on his face.

“He’s right, you know.” He addressed Y/N. “I can’t let you in good conscience pull a double. It won’t be good for you, and I’m not letting you tank your patient satisfaction scores. You know their care tops it all. Even your stubbornness.”

She glared at the two men, grumbling. “Why the fuck do you two need to be so sensible?”

“Come on, kid.” Robby gently took her by the shoulder and guided her to the lockers. “Let me take you home.”

She was too exhausted to argue, so she let him. They redressed in their normal clothes in silence, and it took everything in her not to take a peek when she saw him slide down his scrub pants to pull on some jeans.

He was her attending for fuck’s sake!

And yet… the crush that’d formed in the past few years was inescapable, despite everything in between. She didn’t dare make a move, not when he was so early on in his healing process. A resident telling their depressed boss they were in love with them was not something Robby needed. Besides, just because he was softer with her, more understanding, didn’t mean he had any other feelings. He probably just appreciated that she’d been there for him when he’d needed someone. But maybe…

           Before she could talk herself out of it, Y/N spun around the lockers, hands on her hips, blocking Robby from moving, teeth chewing on her bottom lip as she said, “There’s a dress code.”

           It took him a moment to register what she meant by that, but his shoulders dropped, and he gave a nod as he readjusted his rucksack on his shoulder. “Yes, you did mention that.”

           “I don’t think you realize how specific this is. Three-piece suit. Bowtie. It’s nonnegotiable. If you have some fancy watch, put it on. Shoes polished so hard you can see your reflection. Think – meeting the King of England, but like five times as stupidly strict.”

           “I can do that.” He nodded. “Just tell me what time I should pick you up, and I’ll be there.”

           “Five. It’s an hour-long drive and the thing starts at six thirty, but we need to be earlier.”

           “Okay.”

           And that was that. Like it was so simple for him to just decide to play her date and be there for her.

           But isn’t that how easy it was for you to pick him, too, that traitorous voice whispered in her head.

           Because it had been. She hadn’t even thought of leaving Robby on his own, even in the bad moments when he was crashing and lashing out and being mean and nasty. She stayed there like a rock during a forest fire, until it dimmed to embers and rain came to wash the ash away.

           “Care to tell me the color of your dress?” The cold air of Pittsburgh wafted around the two as they exited PTMC, darkness having overtaken the city since like three PM.

           “Wine red. So will be my nails and lips.” Y/N grimaced. “All part of the dress code.”

           But Robby seemed jovial about it all. “I can work with wine red.”

           “I am terrified to ask what that means.”

           “Well, does the dress code permit matching?”

           “You’re gonna match with me?” she raised her brows.

           Robby looked down at her with a soft smile and opened the passenger door as they’d gotten to the car, an old, but trusty pick-up truck, he’d traded in for his motorcycle. “Well, I am going as your date. Just give me a shade swatch, so it’s not too far off.”

           “You don’t have to, you know.” Heat crept up her body, and she shifted her eyes to the frosted-over windshield because looking at him was just too much. “It’s bad enough you’re gonna be stuck in this shindig, you don’t need to go out of your way for it.”

           He shrugged, taking her bag from her shoulder and throwing it with his in the back seat. “Humor me.”

           Y/N huffed, but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through her veins. And not because he’d turned the heating on high once he settled in the driver’s spot. “I’ll send you a picture.”

           The time to her place was spent listening to the radio, neither bothering to fill the silence, but there was no need. It wasn’t awkward or heavy, simply a tired one.

           “Get some rest,” Robby said as she got out of the car and took her bag from the backseat. “And I’ll see you tomorrow. Five o’clock on the dot.”

           “See you tomorrow, Robby. Sleep tight. Call me if you need anything.”

           “I will.” The promise was soft, but sure.

           Sleep took her the second she got out of the shower, body hitting the bed like a rock. Y/N was almost completely out when she remembered she’d promised to send Robby a picture of the dress so he could do… whatever it was he was planning. Maybe he’d get some socks that shade, who knows.

           It took every bit of her willpower to get out from under the weighted blanket, pull a corner of the dress to her camera, and snap it for Robby.

           When she awoke at eleven in the morning, the only word attached to the picture was “red”. She didn’t even remember typing the three letters. At least he’d responded with a thumbs up to it.

           The day passed way too quickly for her liking, and by the time five PM rolled around, she was an anxious, jittering mess, and she didn’t have her roommate to help either, as she was away to celebrate Christmas with her own family.

She’d redone the chignon her hair had been pulled back in against her will like six times, cause if her mother saw a single flyaway, she’d tut and glare. Y/N had to reline her lips three times, because during her day-to-day, she never did. Maybe a thick lipgloss or peptide treatment to keep moisture in, but tinted lipsticks just weren’t a priority. Not when putting on some concealer and mascara in the mornings was too hard after waking from the previous shift, and done so if only to not scare her patients.

           The bell echoed through her apartment, startling her and signaling Robby was there.

           Five o’clock on the dot. Like he’d promised.

           A deep breath in. A deep breath out. It was time to get the show on the road.

           The sight before her was immaculate. Robby in a fucking three-piece suit, a deep, wine-red bowtie around his neck, beard clean and oiled, hair brushed but still a bit mussed in a tasteful manner. Even his fucking cuffs were the shade of her dress, and there, as he took a step inside her apartment, yes, even his socks matched, a black coat with a black shawl over it all, tying the look together.

           “Wow,” Robby breathed out, not hiding the way his eyes raked up and down her body, snatching on where there was a slit up her thigh. “You look breathtaking.”

           Y/N huffed. “I’m about this close,” she pressed her pointer finger and thumb practically together, “to ripping my hair out because the pins are digging into my scalp. Spanx is absolutely cutting off my breathing, and I can already feel the blisters forming on my heels and -,” No. This wasn’t Robby’s fault. He didn’t deserve her attitude. Not with how he’d gone all out for her when he hadn’t needed to.

           “Thank you.” She let out a long breath and gave him a smile she actually meant. “You look amazing as well.”

           He just shrugged, bashful and flustered. “At least this was an excuse to bring the suit out for something other than a hospital investor’s event.”

           “Believe me, after this, you’ll be dying for some award ceremony. It’ll be a walk in the park,” she said over her shoulder as Robby helped her put on the fur coat she only brought out for this single moment in the year. She hated it, but her mother would pop a vessel if she appeared in her normal jacket and Perlah’s hand-made mittens. God forbid she wanted her fingers to remain warm and no fur in her lipgloss.

           “Alright.” Robby took hold of her hands and squeezed. “You ready?”

           “No… but with you, I kinda feel not so afraid.”

           He didn’t let go as they moved down to the car. When she saw the sleek grey Mercedes, Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, making him slightly tug her along, and she stumbled before regaining her balance.

           “Robby, what the fuck is this?” she let out a scoff, eyes wide in shock. “Where’s your car?”

           He was rubbing the back of his neck as he opened the door for her. “This is my car… one of them.”

           “Holy shit, an attending actually makes that much money?” Maybe it was worth sticking it all out until she became one. Maybe she’d be able to put a deposit down for an apartment she didn’t have to share. Maybe she’d be able to start paying off her student loans in chunks that actually meant something, before interest racked it up again.

           He raised his shoulders. “I’m definitely not complaining. But this was more so a, uh, midlife crisis thing before my actual midlife crisis.”

           “Well, that midlife crisis sure had expensive taste.”

           “You don’t even wanna know.”

           “Oh, but I do.” She gave him a devilish grin. “I so fucking do.”

           The whole ride to her parents’ place, Y/N, having given him the address to put in his GPS, she was wringing the handle to her clutch that only held her silenced phone. That was until Robby slid his fingers between hers and stopped those motions.

           God, he looked so fucking hot driving with only one hand on the wheel.

           Nope. Absolutely not. She was not gonna let her monkey brain take over. Robby was just doing a nice thing because he felt bad for her. It was nothing more, nothing less.

           Too soon for her liking, the house came in view.

           Well, mansion if she was being honest.

           Memories of her childhood spent alone or with her nanny in those empty rooms came to mind.

           She supposed she’d been luckier than other kids. No, she definitely had been. She was always clothed and fed, and she was driven to school and back. She never had to worry about what the next day would bring. But Y/N had been so goddamned lonely and sad the whole time; others would most likely brush her off if they knew the wealth she’d been surrounded by, but it was the truth.

           Her parents never had time for her, and when they did, it wasn’t to do anything she wanted. Sure, she was put in a ballet class. But when her mom had come to her first recital, Y/N saw her tapping away at her phone the whole time. Or at the age of six, when her dad had gotten her first big bike, but didn’t help her learn it. Their driver did, holding onto the back of the bench until she was steady enough he could let go. He was the only one cheering her on as she made it down and up the driveway.

           When she’d gotten to high school and started expressing interest of going into medicine, it’d been the first time she’d seen her parents be actually pleased with a decision she’d made. Not proud. Simply pleased.

           But then she’d started struggling with some topics in AP Chem and AP Math, needing a tutor. Maybe skipping two grades hadn’t actually been a good thing. Her mother had called it embarrassing that she couldn’t get such simple equations. Not that she would sit down and help her daughter.

           And when Amy had passed… they’d never particularly liked her, Y/N knew that. She knew they didn’t appreciate that Amy came from a lower-middle-class family and liked rock music, and had even gotten a secret tattoo two years before her death. She was the only one from her family to go to Amy’s funeral, even though they’d been best friends since the age of seven. She still laid down three roses despite neither of her parents standing by her side through her grief.

           Robby placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her from the thoughts, and it was only then she noticed the car had been idling in place before the entrance, the motor a soothing rumble through her back.

           “I’m here for you.”

           Four simple words that meant the world to her.

           Y/N nodded her head, swallowing the growing lump in her throat. “Let’s do this, so we can get out of here.”

           With her hand linked through Robby’s elbow, they made their way up the stairs, large oak double-doors opened by two hired staff for the evening showed the glamorous gilded entryway hall where a while marble spiral staircase wove up on the right side.

           A smile pulled up at her lips. “I rode down those stairs with a mattress once.”

           Robby raised a brow. “And how did that go for you?”

           “It got stuck on the second-to-last step, and I flew forward. Lost two of my front baby teeth that day.”

           “Seems about right for you.” He chuckled and handed off their coats to an awaiting man with a thanks. “This place is insane.”

           “Yep. But not as bad as my parents. Speaking of which, here we go.”

           Her mother appeared before them in her usual put-together manner – a sharp cut bob, so sleek and shiny, Y/N could see the chandelier's reflection on top of it. Eyes lined with kohl, the wing flicking out just a bit, while her lips remained rouge-free. She was wearing a different deep shade of red, the dress clinging to her body in all the right places, and, of course, her signature pearls around her neck and in her ears. Nothing had changed. Not even the disapproving look on her face.

           “You’re here.” It was a simple fact stated, not an ounce of elation that Y/N had arrived, before the woman’s sharp eyes snapped to Robby. “With an extra person. You didn’t mention you’d be having a plus one in your RSVP.”

           Her body begged to squirm under the scrutiny, but Robby was quick. “I didn’t know I’d be available until this morning. December in an ED is crazy. Michael Robinavitch, but most call me Robby." He extended a hand, and after a moment of consideration, Y/M/N took it.

           “Pleasure,” though the tone suggested otherwise. She looked back at Y/N, scanning her from top to bottom, no doubt searching for something to jibe at, but finding not even a single hair out of place, she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Dinner will be served in half an hour.”

           And that was it. That was her welcome home.

           “Jesus, Ice Queen just shuddered from the cold,” Robby huffed, dragging a hand down his face.

           “Could’ve been so much worse. This was actually a warm welcome from her.”

           For the next thirty minutes, they mingled with people she vaguely recognized from when she was a kid and had to go with her parents to their work events. And Robby, as promised, remained by her side the whole time, charming and talking, and praising Y/N for what she’d accomplished like the good fake-boyfriend he was. The only moment when she was on her own was when he excused himself to the restroom. It was enough time, though, for the vultures to come in the form of two of her aunts.

           “So…” One of them pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side where Robby had disappeared. “Your chief attending. Isn’t he too old for you… and too inappropriate?”

           If she had trouble expressing herself before her parents, Y/N couldn’t say it was the same with her aunts. At least when they weren’t around. “No, he’s not. He’s exactly who I want, and I’m lucky he wants to be with me, too. Everything is consensual and above board. Soon enough, I’ll be a fellow anyway, so we're on pretty equal footing.”

           “Yes, but right now you’re still his resident,” the other aunt chimed in, sipping on her champagne. “Aren't you just a bit too immature to handle a man of such age?”

           “Well, taking you and your six marriages, it seems you’re too immature to handle a man of any age, Mags.” She gave her a sickly sweet smile as she noted the absence of a ring on her finger. “You have lipstick on your teeth, by the way.”

           Robby’s arm, weaving around her waist in that moment, was the saving grace because Y/N was just about to go on a spiel about how they’d never actually accomplished anything on their own, only leeching from the generational wealth, but his touch tampered her temper. Until Rena, the one without lipstick staining her horrible veneers, gave the man beside her a shark-like smile.

           “I’m Rena, Y/M/N’s sister. Younger.” She extended her hand in a motion where the proper response for a man would be to kiss the top of it. When Robby clasped it in a sure clap and gave it a shake, had Y/N been drinking, she would’ve snorted out champagne from her nose.

           Rena’s face soured at his very clear dismissal, but Y/N knew her aunts. They’d take their time to chip away at their niece if only to make themselves come out somewhat on top. Robby was a catch, and she hadn’t been lying when she said he was handsome, even when worn down by the day at the emergency department. Suited up and rested? That was a whole different beast, one others very obviously wanted a piece of.

           “Nice to meet you.” He inclined his head a bit, before all of his attention snapped back to the woman at his side. They hadn’t discussed their 'relationship' pretty much at all, but fuck, he was way too good at making her feel like it was real.

           They’d gone over the basics and decided not to lie too much, only add that over time their feelings had grown more romantic, and, after a long and thorough discussion, had decided to try it out. Given how it wouldn’t be too long until Y/N became a fellow, they’d decided it would be alright as long as they went to HR. If anyone implied favoritism, she’d say she wouldn’t request Robby for a letter of recommendation, instead go to Jack and Baran, so it would be an objective choice whether or not they thought she was good to move further at PTMC.

           “I think the table’s about to be set, sweetheart.” Robby leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, the beard tickling her skin. Y/N couldn’t help her salacious imagination of what it’d feel like between her thighs. “We should probably move over.”

           With his hand still tight on her hip, he maneuvered them to the large dining hall.

           “Versailles has nothing on this place,” he muttered into her ear.

           “Don’t let my parents hear it. Their ego already has no roof.”

           The sound of a bell tinkling announced it was time to take their seats, and chatter grew louder as more and more people trickled into the dining room. Y/N went to where she usually sat – her mother and father both at the head of the table next to one another, she on her mother’s right. Luckily, someone had put an extra chair next to her own right, Robby’s name spelled in neat penmanship. Whoever had managed to write out Robinavitch right on the first try was gonna get a big thumbs up from her. But she also did manage to see he had the Dr. before his name, and she didn’t. Y/N swallowed down the pang of hurt, but not before he noticed the way her shoulders visibly deflated, his hand sliding along her back in comfort.

           Robby, ever the gentleman, pulled her chair out for her, and gathering her dress under her knees, she lowered herself in place as he assumed his, not bothering to acknowledge her aunt at his other side though.

           “Okay, you gotta help me out with all these fancy spoons and forks and shit. Why do I have like eight of each?”

           Y/N had to suppress the giggle threatening to break free, especially as her mother was watching the two with clear displeasure. “Just start from the outside and work your way in with each course. The first though will be a warm towelette. Not a marshmallow. Do not eat that. One of my dad’s ex-colleagues did, and I think they fired him three days later. Never saw him again at any of these things at least.”

           “For making a mistake?”

           “For embarrassing himself before them.”

           And slowly but surely the evening moved on, but no matter how much Robby tried, her family found a way to sour things.

He complemented the food, and her mother found a way to jibe at how her daughter had never liked fish, so they always had to accommodate her 'fussiness'.

           He said the giant Christmas tree in the hall was absolutely fabulous, and Rockefeller Center would be jealous, and her father found a way to say ever since that one time when Y/N was ten and attempted to decorate it herself, they always hired professionals, because they just couldn’t have it look so 'messy' and 'incoherent'.

           Robby tried to make it sound nice, how lovely it was to get everyone they cared about together during the holidays, when Y/M/N shrugged and said, she wished Y/N came home more often to appreciate it all, because family was so important. “I mean, I don’t know how serious you are with her, as she’s never managed to have a steady relationship longer than a year. By the time she has kids, we’ll probably be in our eighties.”

           Y/N went completely rigid beside Robby, and he noticed it. Pretty much everyone did, but unlike the others around, he knew she didn’t want kids. Had explicitly told him that out loud just the previous day. Of course, they’d bring it up with her supposed boyfriend at her side.

           “Well, that is her decision to make.” He shrugged like it was nothing, hand resting on the top of her thigh. “When or how many. None if she doesn’t want any. It’s for her to choose.”

           Her father scoffed, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. “And you? Do you want kids?” The with her was implied, of course. Because why would anyone want that with her?

           “I’ve thought about it, yes. But I would only want them with someone else who does. Y/N knows all the risks and what comes with pregnancy. As a doctor, she’s seen all the sides of it, and so have I. I would never make anyone go through that without a thorough confirmation it is what they want. It’s not my body after all.”

           Don’t cry, she told herself. Don’t fucking cry. Not right now.

           “Well, you two better get to it,” Y/F/N said as if what Robby had responded meant nothing. As if him confirming, the only way he’d want kids is if his partner did, meant nothing to him. That her decisions were not to be taken seriously. “You’re not getting any younger, and neither is she.”

           “She’s twenty-seven. We just celebrated her birthday,” Robby said through a gritted smile, and Mags snorted on the other side of him. If his eyes could spit venom, she’d be blind then and there.

           “That’s spinster age. But Y/N’s always done better on her own, haven’t you? Wouldn’t be a surprise if she runs out on you after the Christmas holidays. It is, oh, what was it called, cuffing season, right? Will probably cut her losses the second she can.”

           Y/N wanted to scream.

           No, she hadn’t always done better on her own. She’d been simply left to her own devices without anything else to do but to adapt. Just because she’d been able to accomplish everything she had, didn’t mean she didn’t yearn for company, for companionship.

           Robby gripped her hand under the table so tight, it felt like they were back when he was having one of his bad days. Only this time, it was her being shoved into that black abyss.

           She hated herself a bit for allowing him to see her like this. She was Y/N, the Spike of PTMC. She should be stronger than this. She should be able to take a few back-handed comments, and yet her heart bled every time someone opened their mouth.

           “Well, if it’s cuffing season, then I’ve already thrown the key away.” He was looking at nobody else but her. “I’m sticking around for however long she wants me to.”

           That’s what did her in. There was no one else at the table who knew how much those words meant. How much Robby had struggled to get to a point where he could say them out loud and mean it.

           Something shifted right then and there. A permanent tilt of the axis of their world. Because all of those gazes and words she’d tried to write off as something else, snapped into their correct context. It was up to her now to decide what to do with it. Robby was giving the ball to her, and his eyes were open and encouraging. He’d follow her wherever she’d lead.

           “Well, be careful with that one,” Rena said from across the table. “She can be a lot to handle, needy little thing. Too young and immature to understand what she wants or can take. I’d suggest looking at someone your own age before settling with someone so… childish.”

           When Y/M/N hummed and nodded in agreement, Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She’d hoped having Robby beside her would create some sort of buffer and wall, but instead, every single barb was more hurtful than when she was there on her own.

           She wiped across her mouth, lipstick leaving a dark imprint before standing up and leaving without so much as an ‘excuse me’.

           Robby was hot on her trail, if only by the sound of his shoes slapping against the marble floors. It took him no time at all to catch up to her, what with his six foot one frame, three of her steps was like one of his. But it wasn’t the only pair of shoes walking after her.

           As Y/N spun around, Robby’s hands moving to pull her into his body for comfort, she saw her mother walk up to them, her pace brisk, eyes sharp like a cobra’s.

           “Get yourself together,” Y/M/N hissed. “You have one minute, and then you need to get back in there. We still have to take the family picture. I will not entertain your dramatics for much longer. You’re acting like you’re five, not like an adult.”

           She didn’t expect the scoff Robby let out. “You think your kid crying because her family was being nasty towards her is dramatic?”

           “I think she is an almost thirty-year-old woman who doesn’t know how to get others to pay attention to herself otherwise.” Y/M/N’s tone was cool and collected. “So stop crying. Your mascara’s smudging, and get back inside. Now.”

           “Actually,” Robby snapped back. “We’re leaving.”

           Y/M/N stiffened and straightened her back. “She needs to take the picture. And apologize to everyone for causing a scene.”

           Y/N tugged at his elbow as he glared at her mother. “Don’t. Please, Robby”

           The way his eye snapped back to hers took her breath away. He was furious. Livid. But not at her. “She doesn’t. She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.” His brown gaze bore into hers, straight to her soul. “Do you want to stay?”

           Tears brimmed along her bottom lashes as Y/N shook her head. “No.” The word was barely a whisper, but she’d done it. She’d said it out loud, if only for Robby.

           “Then we’re going home. No is enough of an answer.” The kiss to her forehead was bone-melting, as he spun her under his arm and guided her to the front of the house. He helped her into her coat and made sure it was shut tight as it’d begun snowing outside before walking her to the car, softly closing the door so she was inside the warm interior.

           She dared to take one last look at the entryway only to find her mother standing there and fuming, but when her eyes shifted from her daughter, her whole stance changed. It became more unsure. Unsteady. Y/N saw her eye twitch and mouth open in shock. She turned her head only to find Robby still standing by his door, one hand on the handle, but not opening it. She could hear the muffled sound of his voice, but as she was about to step out of the car to hear what he was saying, he slid inside and revved the engine, peeling out of their driveway and driving them towards home.

           “I’m sorry,” his voice was low. Sincere. But most importantly, not pitying. She would’ve probably gouged his eyes out if she saw pity on his face. “Nobody should ever be treated that way, but especially by their parents. Their family.”

           Y/N let out a sad snort. “It’s not like you didn’t try to stand up for me. Thank you, by the way, for that. You didn’t have to do it.”

           “Yeah, I did.” He nodded along with his words, hands red from the cold, because of course the guy didn’t have gloves. “My gram raised me better than that.”

           She raised a curious brow, but didn’t ask. If he didn’t wanna share, she wasn’t gonna push him. Robby shrugged. “My grandmother brought me up. And I’d like to think she raised me right enough that I don’t stand by when I hear such bullshit being spewed. I couldn’t just sit back and watch them hurt you… I’ve never seen you like that.”

           Y/N bit down on the inside of her cheek. “Meek?”

           “Shut down,” he corrected. “Unsure of yourself. You almost bit my head off as an itty bitty first-year med-student when we first met.” She watched Robby hit his head against the headrest, not taking his eyes off the road. “But this? I hated it. It was like there was a stranger beside me, not the woman I’ve known for the past however many years. You’re Spike. My,” he cleared his throat, “our Spike.”

           Y/N snorted. Spike. The nickname Trinity had christened her with. Not like from Buffy, but like a cactus.

She’d had to grow her spikes. With parents like that, she couldn’t afford not to. It was her only protection mechanism that she’d carried into adulthood. But something happened to her when she faced them. It was like the person she could be around people who gave her a chance – a blossoming and brave woman around her friends – shriveled into a corner and turned into a scared child. They broke her spikes one by one, and always managed to find the soft center. And they hit right where it hurt, in that unprotected underbelly.

“Yeah, well,” she sniffled. “It is what it is. Not like I can change the way they see me or what they think. As I said, I was right.” Her laugh was more of a scoff. “Never thought there’d come a day I’d hate to hear those words.”

Robby didn’t really have anything to respond to that, so the rest of the drive back to Pittsburgh was spent in silence. By the time they got to his apartment, the flurry had become heavy flakes, turning the world into an absolute Winter Wonderland.

“Do you wanna come up for a bite? You didn’t eat much at dinner.”

It was true. She’d mostly shifted the food around, another memory of her mother saying she could see a 'pudge' on her stomach during the last ballet recital she ever had. That’d sent her down a deep eating disorder later in life, and though now she was fine, and didn’t care about what she ate when she was out with friends, Y/N still looked more at her plate than emptied it around her mom.

Her instinct told her to refuse, but she craved the comfort of Robby’s apartment… of him, so she nodded. By the time they were outside his door, he’d already ordered from the Thai place they both loved.

“Should be here in thirty minutes or so,” he said, pocketing his phone and fishing out his keys, but it didn’t matter to her, as something above his doorway had snagged her attention.

           “Oh, look at that,” Robby murmured. “Mistletoe. Must’ve been Mrs. Lenny from downstairs. She always does something like this when the festive season comes around. Last year, it was a little red bow,” he chuckled.

           Y/N hummed. “Did you know mistletoe is actually hemiparasitic? It kills the tree it attaches itself to if there isn’t enough water because it starts leeching it off from the host. The larger and heavier types of mistletoe can damage the branches and leaves of the host plant as well.”

           For a moment, there was silence. And then Robby asked, “Any facts about how and why it became the symbol to kiss underneath?”

           Her head snapped to look at him, not the plant. It took a moment to process what he said, as her eyes searched for mirth, for where the joke was, only to find him hoping and dead-serious.

           “Seriously?” she let out a disbelieving chuckle. “After everything you saw tonight, you wanna kiss me? For real?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for real for so much longer than this night. Years. Quite a few, actually. I just never got the courage to do so.”

Y/N took a small step back from him, the instinct to protect herself kicking in. “I’m not gonna pull you into my shade of crazy, Robby. You have a good life going on that you’ve fought tooth and nail for. I’m not gonna ruin that with my batshit insane family. I might’ve gotten away tonight, but the second I look at my phone, I can guarantee there’ll be about ten thousand messages about just how big of a fuck-up I am. I could feel it vibrating the whole way back.”

           “But that’s the thing. My life is just good.” He stepped closer and cupped her face. She had nowhere to run now, no sharp words to hide behind, no smart-assed retort to throw out, not when his thumb brushed along her cheekbone so tenderly. “It was good when you appeared in it, with all your stubbornness and hard-assery. It was good when you helped me through my worst, when I thought I’d never get out of the darkness. It was good, when I found out you were thinking of applying to the Pitt for your fellowship, when I found out I’d get to have you around for a few more years. But I want it to be great.”

He rested his forehead against hers, Y/N’s breath stuttering in her lungs as she dug her fingers into his coat. “I want to wake up next to you, grumbling about how it’s way too early to face the day. I want to hear you humming in the kitchen as you try and make pancakes, and inevitably fail and set off the fire alarm. I want to take a shower with you and wash the stress of the shift away. I want HR and all the paperwork, and I want this to be solid and real and official. I want to hear you snark with Jack when you have your nightshift rotations. I wanna hear him tell me one more time, how you’re it for me, and that I better do something before someone else comes and sweeps you off your feet, just so I can tell him, I already did, and he can finally eat his words.”

           “I’m not good enough for you, Robby,” Y/N choked out, her forehead resting against his, Robby’s palm still on her cheek and the other having settled on her waist. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but at the same time, it was hard to process what he’d said. That he actually meant what he’d said. “You heard every single thing they said.”

           “All I heard were insecure people projecting onto someone they should love unconditionally,” his words were warm against her mouth. “Because you’re not just good, you’re the one I see spending my future with. A future I wouldn’t even have unless you’d seen through me that day. And I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

           She bit the inside of her cheek before glancing up to find Robby still looking down at her. A sliver of bravery ran through her veins. “It’d be against tradition, right? To not… kiss… under the mistletoe.”

           “Tradition doesn’t mean you have to, though.”

           “No,” she agreed, but after a deep steadying breath, she nodded more to herself than him. “But maybe it’s a tradition I’d like to start. With you. And only with you.”

           The way his eyes lit up made her heart speed up in her chest.

           Slowly, tentatively, like he thought Y/N might bolt at any minute, he lowered his lips.

           It was a gentle brush at first, testing and still led by a mixture of fear and worry, but when she opened her mouth, gasping against him, all of Robby’s composure went away.

           One hand roughly settled on the small of her back, having dug around the inside of her coat, while the other angled her face up so he could get more of her lips, more of her tongue and teeth, and so he could offer more in return too.

           For the first time that whole day, she felt giddy. She felt happy and exhilarated and so, so, so fucking right. Like this was where they were meant to be and belong.

           Robby spun her around, her back hitting the still closed door, but his hand, just like the day before, managed to snap behind her scalp, taking the brunt of the motion. Y/N’s leg hiked up along his and wove around his hips, the hand he’d been holding on her waist greedily grasping at her thigh, kneading at the tights-covered skin.

           “Inside,” she gasped as his lips moved to her neck. She could only imagine what state she was in and how he’d leave her. “Please let’s go inside.”

           He mouthed at her neck. “Why rush? We have the next two days off.”

           Y/N’s brows furrowed as she gently pushed Robby’s forehead to get him away from her so she could look the man in the eye. It took everything in her not to moan at his disheveled look, lips kiss-swollen and plump. “No, we don’t. I definitely don’t. I told you I wanted to work holidays.”

           “Look, I had an inkling, no matter how this night panned out, after what you told me of your family, you’d need time to decompress and relax. So I kept the schedule for the 26th and 27th as planned, despite your instance of putting you on.”

           “And if this hadn’t gone the way it is right now? If I’d gone back to my place, I still would’ve shown up tomorrow.”

           “I thought about it. So, I instructed Shen to call me during handoff if you did, and I would personally have gone to the Pitt to haul your ass out. I’m not above going to Gloria and making her bench you either.”

           Y/N gasped, pushing him even further away from her. “You wouldn’t dare!”

           “Just try me,” he grumbled, catching her lips in another kiss. “Cause sweetheart, now I have two uninterrupted nights and two uninterrupted days to have my way with you. I might be an old white man, how you so eloquently put it yesterday morning, but I’ve been dreaming about this for a while. Make no mistake – I have plans.”

           But their plans would have to be rescheduled for a moment as an elderly woman shuffled up the stairs, holding onto what seemed like three bags of take-out food.

           “Ah, Robinavitch. So you are home.” She handed the stunned man the bags with a smirk. “You weren’t answering the poor delivery man ringing your bell, so I took the liberty to rearrange it when he rung mine… and to see if the little plant was successful.” She gave Y/N a conspiratorial wink. “It was high time for him to do something about you two. And looking at the state of both of you, I’d say it’s been successful.”

           “Thank you?” Y/N squeaked out, as who she assumed was Mrs. Lenny, retreated back to her apartment with a wink over her shoulder and mouthed 'use condoms' at her.

           God, what a fucking scene the two of them probably made – her chignon mussed and lipstick remnants smeared all over Robby’s mouth, her eyes black from her smudged mascara. His bowtie was open as she’d managed to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, his hair ruffled from where she’d been running her hands through, her silken dress rumpled around her waist, and coat half removed.

           “I uh.” Y/N licked her lips and instantly his eyes snapped down to them. “I don’t mind letting the food get cold.”

           “Good.” There was such a predatory note in his voice, it made her clench her thigh, and he sure as hell noticed. “Cause this is not the appetizer I want.”

           The whimper she let out was certainly undignified, and if she’d made such a sound at the ED, the ribbing she’d be getting would never end, but it only seemed to spur Robby on, as he unlocked the door and pushed her inside, dropping their food on the counter, only to have her coat and his completely off within the next half second.

           “Let’s take these out.” He ran a hand along where her hair twisted on the inside, all held together by a myriad of pins. “I want you to be as close as possible to yourself if we’re doing this. Not some made-up version that you think you need to become for someone else’s satisfaction.”

           Robby’s words brought her to tears, and he kissed each of them away as his fingers removed every single pin, and her hair dropped down to rest in its natural position. She hated straightening it. Hated how much it damaged the strands, but to fit the hair-code set by her mother, there was no other way around it. When his fingers dug against her scalp, the relief was immense, his tips massaging where metal had dug in and caused pain.

           “Good enough?” She tried to alleviate the mood and wiggled her brows a bit.

           Robby took in a deep breath and exhaled, cupping her cheek. “For me, you’ve always been perfect. Even when we hated each other, and I’d been loath to admit it. I just hate the box they tried to put you in. This dress is gorgeous, but the whole thing together… It’s just not you.”

           “Then how about you get me out of it?” Y/N asked, feeling braver than she felt, though the reverent look in Robby’s eyes calmed her down a bit. She trusted him. With her life, and with the most important thing in her life – her heart.

           Slowly, his hands drifted to her back, where the zipper rested. He was teasing her, she could tell by the smirk that bloomed on his kiss-bitten mouth as he dragged his palms up from the base of her spine to just below her shoulder blades, flicking the little metal zipper.

           “How attached are you exactly to this dress?”

           Y/N bit down on her lip. “Well, my mom sent it over, so it’d match the set attire-,”

           She didn’t even get to finish the sentence when she felt both of Robby’s hands grab the top of the dress and rip it open, the zipper destroyed in an instant.

           “I’ll buy you ten dresses.” He kissed her through the surprised gasp she let out. “A hundred. I’ll buy you every fucking dress you so much as look at, as long as you’d feel comfortable wearing it.” He bit down on the top of her chest, half free from the restraints. “But I’m not gonna apologize for being efficient in ridding you of something you were uncomfortable in.”

           The Spanx came next; Robby very visibly displeased she was wearing the shapewear, but to his chagrin, he couldn’t just rip this specific material, so he had to relegate himself to rolling it down inch by inch, allowing her body to relax. His hand ran over the way her form dipped and widened, over her stomach and hips until he could do nothing but choke on a moan and throw his head back.

           “And no… fuck!” Robby swore under his breath. “No fucking panties? Seriously?

Y/N was left only in a black lace balconette bra that pushed her breasts up, as it was the only one to match the neckline of the dress, while on the underneath, nothing but black tights existed.

“They showed through even with the Spanx on. Even my thongs did.”

He pressed his forehead to her chest and whimpered. The man actually whimpered. Slick already coated the inside of her thighs, but this elicited another wave to make a mess of her. When he noticed her rubbing her legs together, the seam of her tights catching onto her clit and alleviating some of the gathered tension, he groaned like a man possessed, his hand skimming down her stomach, a question in his eyes.

“Yes,” Y/N said, nodding. “Please.”

“Look at you,” he almost cooed as his fingers met the apex of her legs and swiped in between. “Jesus, you’re soaked.”

“Just for you.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me have a taste too?”

“Anything,” she moaned as he slid to his knees and his nose ran along her navel. “You can do anything you want, just as long as you do something!”

Y/N’s chest moved up and down in shallow pants as his hand grabbed her by the hips and pushed her to somewhat rest against the kitchen island, the small of her back leaning against the marble countertop while he, still fully dressed in his suit, kneeled between her legs, one of her knees now hooked over his shoulder, heel digging into his back and his mouth drifted over her pussy.

It was embarrassing, or she felt like she should feel embarrassed with how much that little motion did to her. Her hands rushed to Robby’s short tresses, nails digging into his scalp and gently tugging him closer.

“And tights? How do you feel about those?” He looked up at her. God, he looked sinful.

“Shred them.”

He did. The second she gave permission, there was a giant hole in the piece of clothing, and Robby’s mouth and her cunt had nothing in between them.

Y/N vaguely thought she heard him murmur 'I’m gonna fucking live here' before he dived in, tongue licking a long stripe from her clit, right to her entrance and back.

She forgot all about the fact she hadn’t bothered to shave, she didn’t care how the curls must be getting into his mouth, not as his fingers dug harder into her skin, as if he wanted his hands to leave permanent marks on her body and his beard scratched against the inside of her thighs just like she’d fantasized. When Robby let out a moan as she squeezed them tighter around his head, all the insecurities that still tried to assault her mind vanished.

He ate her out like it was his last meal, and she was the first of five courses. Loud. Lewd. Full of passion and need and want. God, he made her feel so wanted. One of his hands slipped up and grasped her breast, pulling her bra down by the middle to let them pop out, and one pinch of his fingers to a bud, and Y/N was buckling, coming closer and closer to an orgasm he was way too quick at getting her to.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d been the only one to make her feel even somewhat good that day, maybe it was the fact her emotions had been in a turmoil ever since she awoke with the knowledge she’d have her self-esteem destroyed bit by bit, or maybe it was the fact she’d just been helplessly in love with the man that was lapping at her pussy, that made her crest over that edge. And he hadn’t even had to use his fingers.

Her orgasm unraveled through her body like a warm wave, starting from deep in her lower belly and seeping through her veins, as Y/N sobbed out Robby’s name over and over and over again. Only when she twitched away from his tongue as it flicked against her clit, did he let go. But not fully.

She wanted to frame the image before her. If someone invented some camera as a contact lens you could put in your eye, Y/N was gonna be the first one to buy it, just so these moments didn’t live in only her brain. How he kneeled before her. How his lips and chin were covered in her slick. How he looked absolutely wrecked.

“Come here.” She extended her hand, and licked into Robby’s mouth the second he rose to his full height, his body hers for the taking. “Bedroom?”

“Fuck yes.”

By the time they managed to get themselves on his bed, stumbling and giggling along the way, she’d rid herself of the heels, though Robby had said he wanted there to be a time she wore them and only them for him. His jacket and vest were gone, bowtie slung atop the big light on the ceiling, while he’d toed his shoes off and ripped the socks like they were personally offending him. Y/N, however, disagreed because the only offensive pieces left were his suit pants and the boxers underneath as he shrugged the white shirt off.

Robby groaned when she, kneeling on the bed while he stood at the foot of it, trailed her hand below his clothing to grasp his aching cock, her mouth sucking a large and very prominent bruise on his neck.

She could feel him pulse in her palm, thick and needy with a prominent vein running along the underside. Saliva filled her mouth.

But just as she was about to dip down to undress him and have her lips close around him, Robby gently pushed against her shoulder. She lost her balance, plopping backwards onto the bed. He used it as a chance to remove those final offending pieces of clothing, both of them now naked and as close as two people could be. “Some other time, I promise.” He kissed her deep and hard as he leaned over her. “Cause if you blow me, I’ll be done in like two minutes, and that is not how quick I want this night to end. Not before I’ve gotten a chance to be inside you.”

Y/N’s hands wove around his neck, while his finger skimmed along her wet entrance, but he noticed the slight tremble in her body and removed his touch, putting his forearms by her head and looking down at her, demanding eye contact.

           “Are you okay?” He brushed his nose against hers, keeping their gazes locked. “We can stop. Right here, right now. You just say the word, and we go to sleep. Hell, I’ll drive you back to your place if you want.”

           “It’s not that,” Y/N shook her head, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “It’s just… It’s been a while… and it all feels a bit too much.”

           Robby tilted his head, trying to figure her out. “Bad much?”

           “Good much.” She allowed herself the pleasure of dragging her hands over his back and shoulders, grounding herself in the moment. “Overwhelming much. I haven’t had sex with someone I’ve had feelings for in a few years, so it’s hitting me. Hard. It’s been meaningless hookups ever since my last boyfriend, so it’s been a while since I’ve felt like this is more than just… just physical.”

           “You’re not meaningless, God, you’re not.” He shook his head, resting his forehead against hers, as a sharp pang ran through her chest at his words. “I can’t lie and say I didn’t try to make you so. At least in my head. I tried to strip you down to professionalism, but every single day you showed up, you just broke down every cage I’d put you in my brain. And then you saw me in pedes and didn’t judge… You saw me through the front I put on when I thought it’d be a better world without me in it. And now you see me still… You don’t flinch away when I have my bad moments, and you help me get through them. When you had to go on that night rotation after Ellis’ accident, it felt like half my heart was missing. That was when I knew, no matter what happened, I’d try to keep you in my life forever. In whatever form you’d allow me to have you. Coworker, friend… I dreamt about this, about more, but never truly dared to hope. So no. You are not meaningless. Not even one bit.”

           A sob tore through her chest, and Y/N pulled him down to be flush with her, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, just like he’d done to her so many times previously. “I love you so much it scares me.”

           “That’s okay,” he croaked back. “Because I love you too. We can be scared together.”

           For a moment, passion had given way to sincere trust, to love and hope of a future together. That was until she exhaled and pressed a kiss to Robby’s jugular. Feeling his pulse spike under her lips made her gently bite down, a groan ripping from his throat.

           “Fuck, we need a condom,” he muttered, reaching to the bedside table and opening the bottom drawer while Y/N gave herself over to leaving hickies across wherever her mouth could reach, and her hand had gone down to slowly jerk him off. “’M not gonna last if you keep that up.”

           “I don’t mind,” she shrugged. “As you said, we have two full nights and days to go at it.”

           His moan made her wet all over.

           Together they put on the condom before Robby took his shaft by the base and dragged it through her slick, but his eyes remained on her. “At any moment, you can tell me to stop.”

           “I won’t.” Y/N pulled him down, shifting her hips in a way his tip caught her hole. “Not because I don’t think you’d do it, because I don’t want you to.”

           Muttering 'I love you' against her lips the whole time, Robby slid inside.

           The sting was sharp at first. He wasn’t overtly long, but he was definitely thick, and they both realized that maybe next time, they’d have to fight off the haze of lust and prepare her a bit more.

           “Tell me when I can keep going.” His breathing was hard and labored, every ounce of self-restraint gathered in his body. He was barely a third way in, and Y/N’s legs were already shaking.

           Moving her hips around a bit, he slid further inside, making the two of them groan, but soon enough the pain morphed into pressure and pleasure as she settled her heels to dig into the small of his back.

           “Deeper,” she gasped. “Need you deeper.”

           When she pulled his head down to slot their lips together, he obliged her request, sinking inside inch by glorious inch until both their pelvises rested together.

           Y/N had never felt so full. Emotionally or physically. It was like there were no cracks to her, no scars or marks. It was like she was home.

           “I love you, Robby,” she murmured against his mouth. “So, fucking much.”

           “You’re it for me, sweetheart.” He responded, cupping her face to not let go of the kiss. They only broke because, unfortunately, both of them still needed to breathe. “You’re it.”

           The thought of being someone’s choice, of being Robby’s choice, made Y/N smile so wide she was afraid her cheeks would break apart. However, her smile quickly vanished once he started moving, cause fucking hell, did he know how to use his cock.

           Or maybe he was simply made for her? Maybe the reason he could find her G-spot only after three thrusts and a little rearrangement of where her legs rested around his body was because the two had been designed to come together at one point.

           His hand slid from where he’d been keeping her face close to his so he could grope at her chest, squeezing at her breasts before traveling lower and finding her clit. Y/N threw her head back as he started rubbing at the bundle of nerves, tight little circles that matched the rhythm he’d set.

           “Come on, sweetheart. I can feel you clenching. I know you wanna come.”

           “Robby,” she sobbed out his name as his mouth attached to her nipple and his teeth grazed against the peak, making the pleasure sharpen and shoot through her veins.

           Her moans and gasps turned to loud curses and groans the same way Robby’s did, as they felt their orgasms approaching. “Wanna come with you.” He kissed and bit at her neck. “Be good to me and come, sweetheart.”

           She did, because what the fuck else was Y/N supposed to do when his cock was drilling into her at a steady pace, his fingers were rubbing her clit the exact way she needed him to, and his mouth was kissing everywhere he could.

           White exploded across her closed eyes, her back arching into Robby’s body, his hand slipping under the small of it to hold her as close as possible, while he chased his own high, which came to him in a groaned-filled stutter, hips breaking their pattern.

           No small amount of pride rushed through her as he ground down, his body shaking and trembling, moans of her name echoing across her skin as he buried his sweaty face in the crook of her neck, her own nose hidden in his long ago.

           Vaguely, she heard him ask something, but it took her a while to look at him. Robby’s hand cupped her cheek, brows drawn together as worry marred his features.

           “You alright?” she read his lips more than heard the words.

           Y/N nodded, letting out a small laugh. “Fucked me so good, I can’t hear anything.”

           His face lit up at her words, and the feeling of his own joy rumbling through her seeped into her bones, her hand running up and down his back.

           With time, the ringing in her ears dissipated, and she could hear normally again, Robby muttering, 'I love you,' and 'you’re okay,' and 'I’m not going anywhere' the whole time.

           He didn’t give her much reprieve, though, seemingly dead-set on cashing in on as much time as those two days and nights would allow them. His fingers found her pussy soon enough, not before checking in if she needed some water and was actually up for more. When Y/N nodded her head, grabbing him hard by the nape of his neck and bringing his lips down, Robby seemed more than happy to delay their dinner.

           After he’d made her come one more time, so hard she’d squirted all over his hands and sheets, his mouth instantly latched onto her pussy, licking as deep as he could, only detaching once he was satisfied she’d gone through all of her aftershocks.

           When he was sure her legs would hold, he dragged her onto her knees and pressed his face between her legs, his fingers sinking inside her, scissoring and stretching her again. But this time she wanted what he’d promised she’d get to have, and with all the remaining strength in her spent body, she twisted around to face his legs and finally got her mouth on him the way she’d wanted. When Robby got close to coming, he pulled her off off his cock, flipped her back onto her back, and pushed inside right up to the hilt once more, condom packet at the ready and open in barely a moment.

           Two hours later, they were both shaking in one another’s grasp, not letting go of either, and only when Robby started goading her and reminding her of how much a UTI sucked, did Y/N, reluctantly, slide out of the bed and into the bathroom.

           A shower was much needed for them both, and when they emerged, her taking a bit more time to wash off the make-up, or whatever was left, Robby had already changed the sheets and was awaiting her, the blanket lifted for her to slide inside.

           It was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life.

           The morning rose soft and gentle like the winter outside. Y/N shifted in bed, just enough to tighten the leg she had around Robby’s hip.

           “Good morning,” his gruff, sleep-addled voice echoed around the quiet room.

           “No.”

           Robby snorted so hard he almost choked. Now that woke her up, whether she wanted to or not, just to check if her newly-gained boyfriend wouldn’t die. She eyed his face, gaze roaming over the age-lined features as he laughed. Watching Robby’s mouth tilt up in a smile did funny things to her insides.

“What?” she mumbled as he kept looking her over.

           “Nothing.” He shook his head, shifting closer to her and pressing their foreheads together. “Just that… you’re pretty great… and now my life kinda feels like it too.”

           Y/N wrinkled her nose, to which he swiftly pressed a kiss to, making her laugh. Such juxtaposition to the hot and sweltering ones he’d planted on her lips and body a few hours ago. “You’re so fucking cheesy.”

           “Yeah, but I’m your fucking cheese.”

           “Yeah, you are,” she sighed and rested her cheek on his chest.

           For a while, both of them just relished in the moment, watching the snow drift behind the windows, when Y/N gathered up enough courage to rest her chin on him and looked at the man. “What did you say to her?”

           “To whom?” Robby’s brows raised as he tucked a strand of Y/H/C hair behind her ear.

           “To my mom. Before we left.”

           He huffed and contemplated for a second. “The truth. How you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’ve become such not because of anything they did to help you, but because you run on to spite them. That you’re brave and beautiful and have more grace than all of them combined. Your heart is unmatched, and I am the luckiest person in the world to have ever gotten the chance to know you.”

           “Robby…” A tear trickled down to her chin, and he rushed to kiss it before it disappeared.

           “I also may or may not have told her we’re never having kids. Because, God forbid, we do, and we do everything right to raise them, and yet they still grow up to be like her – huge fucking disappointments.”

           “You did not say that!” she guffawed, shifting to be on her elbow.

           Robby hummed, very evidently satisfied with himself. “Oh, yeah, I did.”

           “Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, hiding her face in his chest. “I’m actually terrified of looking at my phone.”

           “Well, I also told her how unless she wanted to apologize for all the bullshit last night, and everything they put you through these past twenty-seven years, she’d have to deal with me. And if not, then tough luck, cause I’m here to say.”

           And despite Robby’s words burrowing into her heart, despite them healing the wounds cast by her family, she knew she needed to address the larger issue at hand, which would no doubt rear its ugly head the further along they got in this relationship.

           With a steady breath, Y/N, leaving her face pressed against his shoulder, she murmured, “I know you want them. Kids, that is… I see it every time someone brings in an infant, hell, even when a teenager comes in. Your whole body just… melts… I’m not gonna be able to give that to you. I just… I can’t…”

           “Want,” Robby huffed and settled on his back, one hand behind his head, the other tight around her waist while she rubbed absentminded circles on his peck. “I want a lot of things. I want my knees not to hurt when I lift more than fifty pounds. I want to drive an F1 car without my spine shooting out my ass… Fuck, I even want a pony just because I’ve always wanted a pony.”

           “To ride?” Y/N chuckled and raised a brow, but didn’t look at him.

           “God, no. I’d never put the poor animal through something like that. Just to have.”

           “Well,” she bit on her lip, “you could. Have that.”

           “No, because most of all, I want to live a life with someone who wants me there. Who wouldn’t be afraid of the darkness that might come with. And you, even when you had nothing at stake, did that. You walked that pitch-black nothingness that’d overtaken my mind and heart and helped me get out the other side.”

           She dared a glance, and he was already staring down at her, a gentle look to his eyes.

           “Besides, I meant it when I said, I’d only ever want kids with someone who enthusiastically would want them too. And who also realized the risks that could entail. I uh...” Robby cleared his throat as she shifted, bringing Y/N closer like he was trying to protect her from the next words. As if he was afraid it would happen to her too. “It was before you started at PTMC. We had a trauma where a pregnant woman was involved. Eight months along. Came in with just a fracture to her arm, but the stress sent her into early labor… she ended up surviving and her baby too, but to get to that point, we had to give her ninety-two units of blood. She hemorrhaged. Bad. Spent two months in the ICU.” Robby dragged a hand down his face. “I’ll never forget that number. Ninety fucking two. Having kids is beautiful, but as someone who’ll never know what it’s like to have their body changed forever,  that will never have to put it through such a life-changing thing, it’d be selfish of me to ask that of you. And then post-partum? Hormonal changes? Societal pressure? No.” He shook his head. “I’m not putting you through that, especially knowing it’s not what you want in life.”

           “You’re too good to me.” Y/N sniffled into his chest, holding onto his side tighter. “I don’t think I’ll ever know what I did to deserve you, but I’m very lucky to have you.”

           “It’s very much so the other way round, sweetheart.”

           After a long moment of silence, she spoke up once more.

           “I’ve thought about adoption,” she whispered, rubbing his chest, feeling his heart thud against her fingers. It’d very quickly become her favorite lullaby. “Not babies or small kids but… but teens. The older ones, the ones that the system eats up and then just spits out at eighteen like they mean nothing.”

           Robby kissed the top of her head and buried his nose in her hair. “We have all the time in the world. We don’t need to have everything figured out. And if at some moment, we both feel like we’re ready for that, then of course. But as long as you’re there, I don’t care for much else. Let’s just see where the wind takes us.”

           Behind the windows, it fluttered big snowflakes to the ground, but in her life, she felt lucky it’d blown Michael Robinavitch in her path.

           After all, three years down the line, in front of the only people who mattered, their PTMC family, is who they vowed to love one another, until the times of sand slipped by. And when Y/N was awarded the Elizabeth Blackwell Award the next year, Robby may or may not have printed, framed, and sent her parents the picture of her on stage, a wide beaming smile on her face, and her engagement ring and wedding band on full display with a small note of only five words attached.

You never fucking broke her.

BONUS

It was Christmas Eve, and snow had covered Pittsburgh like a soft blanket. Y/N was sitting on the couch, looking over the shoulder of the sixteen-year-old girl as she showed her a TikTok of how she wanted her hair done for prom come next spring.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she pushed a pin into the hair, and Marlene winced. “Sorry, sweets.” She readjusted it and secured the strand so it wouldn't hurt the skin. “Can you show it to me from the beginning?”

“Sure,” she muttered, rewinding the video again as Y/N followed along the next steps of the tutorial. Yeah, those fucking TikTokers made it seem so easy. She’d take ten code blues over the complicated braid her kid had chosen, but that’s why they were doing a trial run months in advance.

Robby exited where he’d been napping in their bedroom, giving both of the girls a warm smile. “Am I interrupting mother-daughter bonding time?”

“No,” Marlene said without even looking up from her phone, and extended a couple of small bottles held in her hand and a thin brush. “But it can be mother-daughter-father bonding time. Paint my nails, please?”

“Sure, kid. Designs?” Ever since Marlene realized both her parents had amazing small motor skills due to them being doctors, she’d been employing Robby as her nail tech. And well, he could never say no to her. Not since they adopted the fourteen-year old girl two years prior, and a year later she called him ‘dad’ for the first time. He’d been wrapped around her manicured fingers ever since, but not before weeping for an hour on Y/N's shoulder. She'd sobbed too.

“Surprise me.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, twisting another strand of the hair and pinning it back into the bun that was slowly but surely forming into something actually beautiful. She took a glance at her husband, absolutely melting at the look on his face while he glanced at his phone, where he had an album labeled ‘Mar’s nail design inspiration pictures’, when she took note of a parcel sticking out from beside him.

“What’s that?” Y/N nudged her chin in its direction.

“Oh, nothing.” Robby shifted a bit so it was out of sight.

“Love, I thought we talked about presents. We already have everything.”

Though Robby was Jewish, he still participated in Christmas for both of his girls, just like they did for Hanukkah.

He smirked, leaning over to peck Y/N on the lips, and Marlene gagged at the display, only to get a kiss on her cheek from Robby, too. “If it’s any consolation, then it’s not for you.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Then who’s it for?”

Their Secret Santa gifting at the Pitt had happened the previous week, so everyone could receive their presents, especially those scheduled off for the holidays, and if someone from the day shift had someone from the night, and vice-versa.

“No one,” he pretty much sing-songed.

Marlene dared a look to the side and threw Y/N an unconvinced one. “He’s being shifty.”

“Very much so,” she deadpanned. “Michael. What’s going on?”

The man visibly paled. Y/N never called him his given name. The next step was his full government one, and that meant true trouble. After a moment, he sighed and huffed, dragging a hand over his face and settling deeper into the couch. Marlene nudged his knee with her elbow. “Spill, Dad.”

“Okay,” he huffed, giving his wife a soft look. “So you remember the last time we went over to your folks for the holidays?”

She snorted. “Hard to forget. As much as I’d want to.”

“Well, neither could I. And everything they said, and all that,” he threw Marlene a glance, “crap.” Their daughter rolled her eyes. “It sat there in my brain. Festering. And a few years ago when you got the Elizabeth Blackwell Award for your thesis on gender equality in emergency medicine, I may or may not have done something.”

Slowly, Y/N’s brows started to raise, the up-do on her daughter’s head long forgotten. “Something like what?”

Robby shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I may or may not have sent over a picture I took of you during the ceremony. And these last few holidays, I may or may not have done the same thing with a little 'screw you' kinda note attached.”

Marlene cackled. Half a year after her adoption, they’d explained as to why her ‘grandparents’ from Y/N’s side wouldn’t be in the picture. She’d been more than glad not to have them. “Dad, you’re so fucking petty!”

“Language, kid!”

“What?” She scoffed, turning around with a huff. “You two swear all the time! Mom’s even worse.”

“Do as we say.” Robby took one of Marlene’s hands in his, looking over her cuticles. “Not as we do.”

Y/N bit down on her lip, looking at the strands of hair she was playing with. “What picture were you gonna send now?”

“I uh...” A furious blush spread across his neck and up his face, Marlene poking him in the knee. With a resigned sigh, he took the wrapped parcel and handed it to their kid. Quickly, it was ripped open, and there was the picture.

In a beautiful black frame, it showed the three of them with Marlene at the center, where she was holding up the trophy her school’s science club with her as the leader, had gotten for their last year’s experiment. They’d gone to the nationals and received fourth place in the competition. When she looked at the moment forever frozen in time, all three of them beaming so wide, it made her heart ache. But not with pain. With pride.

“You said you added a note?” Y/N's voice was thick with emotion.

Robby’s hand gently went to swipe across her cheek where a tear had slipped down. “Yeah.”

“Can I write it this time?”

“Of course.” He kissed her on the forehead and stood up, returning a minute later with a piece of paper and a pen.

When Y/N threw a glance down where Marlene still sat with her legs crisscrossed, she felt a warm hand wrap around her ankle, squeezing it in comfort. “What’cha gonna write?”

           “I guess what I've always wanted to, but never had the courage,” she huffed, and then, in her sweeping, somehow miraculously legible handwriting, considering her occupation, covered the papers in words.

           When Robby looked down at them, a wide smile bloomed on his face.

           Go fuck yourselves.

           Signed,

Dr. Y/N Y/L/N-Robinavitch. MD & PHD, Senior attending of the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre.

A/N: I am not caught up on ep 2 yet, but I think Dr Baran will be pissing me off with her AI bullshit 😭

also, I know this is kinda a holiday fic, but I loved writing this so much! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved creating it :)

               Michael wasn’t her carer.

               Just because the man had gone through hell called medical school and led a circle of it at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center as an attending for years on end, didn’t mean Y/N had to call him for every minor issue.

               But then again, she’d read on Google that she could die from this if not resolved.

               No, she shook her head and immediately regretted it, as the headache intensified. For whatever reason, Jack Abbot, the night-shift attending, had asked if he and Michael could switch for a week, leaving Y/N to fall (fail to fall) asleep on her own and –

               Jack.

               The name echoed in her mind like a gong.

               Yeah. She could call him. It was about nine-ish in the evening. Michael was already no doubt working, and if the hand-off had happened without a hitch, Jack had to be clocked out. It was worth a shot.

               Scrolling just a bit further down the names, she found the one listed as ‘Michael’s husband’.

               They’d met only twice, but the tremors in her hands had increased, so Y/N was out of options.

               The first time they’d seen one another had been when she’d gone back to the ED to finally get the second cast removed, and as Michael instructed her to the room where Langdon and Mel already awaited, they passed by one another. Her boyfriend introduced them, and Jack threw her a knowing smirk. She didn’t have to imagine too hard what it could mean, not with how furiously red Michael turned.

               The second time was when they’d invited all their friends over to celebrate the milestone of moving in together.

               It was late summer, a slight breeze in the air, but the weather was still warm enough that they could use the apartment roof for a barbecue. It was a beautiful three-bedroom flat, still within a fifteen minute walking distance from the Pitt, while being a larger space to occupy, and Y/N could even designate one of the rooms as her own office space and library.

               Jack had been one of the last people to arrive, a beautiful crystal vase in his hands as Y/N opened the door, while the rest of the gathered crew put food and appliances in bags to bring up to the roof.

               “Congrats, you two.” Jack pressed a light kiss to Y/N’s cheek after they exchanged warm greetings. “It was high-time the old dog settled down and moved on from his Playboy days.”

               “Brother, seriously?” Michael groaned from the kitchen area as he took out a box of beers they’d been chilling all day and put them in the cooler.

               She just laughed and thanked him, ushering Jack inside. “You didn’t have to bring anything but yourself, but this is gorgeous. I’ll have to go out tomorrow and buy some flowers to put in.”

               The army vet raised a brow as he looked at Michael, who handed him a beer bottle. “You don’t buy your girl flowers?”

               “I do!” Michael let out an affronted scoff. “And not as an apology or shit like that either! We’ve just been unpacking. I don’t even know which boxes the vases are in.”

               “We’ve also been fighting with IKEA shelves,” Y/N piped up. “But I do think we’re gonna be fine, flowers or not. We didn’t even try to rip one another’s heads off as we were putting the Lagkapten together.”

               “A tried-and-true method of checking if a relationship is solid.” Jack nodded in approval. “If you can withstand a collective IKEA build, you can withstand anything.”

               Michael rolled his eyes. “We would be fine either way.”

               “Of course you would.” The night shift attending snapped his fingers and motioned towards the vase. “Hey, this could be your ‘I’m fine’ jar. Well, vase. Put a dollar in it.”

               “His what?” Y/N turned to look at Michael, who was dragging a hand down his face.

               “Anytime that dickhead gets upset and you ask how he’s doing, and he responds with an “I’m fine”, he has to put a dollar in. If we still did this at the Pitt, he’d be paying off all the med-student loans in a year.”

               Michael grunted and lifted a middle finger. “Man, you’re such a jackass.”

               “Hey, if you’re not gonna talk to a therapist, at least talk to your girlfriend. Besides, maybe this way you two can save up for a whole-ass house. Give it a month, and you’ll have a deposit ready to go.”

               The two went on like that – bantering and teasing – for the remainder of the evening, and Y/N watched it all with warmth in her heart. She hadn’t seen Michael so relaxed in ages, surrounded by nothing but love and care and no stress in sight.

               So she hoped she’d left a good enough impression of herself on Jack that he wouldn’t drop the call without even picking it up.

               Her hands were a mess, and she misdialed Michael twice and had to end the call before it went through, before she managed to finally get Jack’s contact. She could be waking him up from well-deserved rest, but some god or goddess must’ve felt pity on the woman, as he picked up only after two rings, and it didn’t sound like he’d been asleep.

               “Hello?” his gruff voice resonated from the other side of the line.

               “Jack?” Her own voice shook as she spoke. “Hi! This is uh, I’m uh, Y/N. I don’t know if you remember me.”

               A soft, tired chuckle echoed in her ear. “I do remember my best friend’s girlfriend, yes. Is everything alright?”

               “Oh, that’s great! Yeah! Um… thanks for uh… for remembering me…”

               An awkward silence stretched between them, because, quite frankly, now that she was talking to an actual doctor, she didn’t know how to explain the situation without sounding like an idiot.

               “Y/N?” Jack’s tone was calm, but there was a hint of concern in it. “Are you okay? Do I need to call Robby?”

               “Don’t!” she practically shouted, but then turned the volume of her voice down. Three noise complaints in one weekend wasn’t the goal. “Please don’t… look, if I wanted to, I would have called Michael, but I don’t wanna bother him, especially as he’s probably elbow-deep in someone’s gallbladder or something, it’s just… I read some stuff online, and I know how you all hate Dr. Google, so I’m calling an actual MD to get my diagnosis… or maybe denial? I dunno…”

               “Are you?” Jack’s harsh whisper whipped down the line. “Are you pregnant?”

               “What?! No!” Y/N sputtered, feeling heat creep all over her body. “Why the hell was that your first thought? And frankly, even if I was, you wouldn’t be the first person I’d call, no offense… But… I think I might be dying, Jack.”

               Instantly, his cadence shifted. “Y/N, if you’re not feeling well, you know you can always go down to the ED. And before you spew some bullshit you’d be taking time away from actual patients – no, you wouldn’t, nor would you be burdening anyone, especially Robby.”

               “Look, can you just please tell me if a person can die from a caffeine overdose? Like, is that an actual thing?” She rubbed at her aching head.

               “I mean, kind of, but –,”

               “Oh God, I’m dead!” Y/N groaned, interrupting Jack, who just muttered a ‘Jesus Christ’ before speaking louder over her freak-out.

               “However,” he emphasized and pressed on. “It’s incredibly rare. You’d have to chug a lot of coffee and probably mix it with an insane amount of energy drinks to get to toxic levels.”

               “Which are?”

               “Three-thousand milligrams. So, like I said, quite a lot. How much coffee did you drink?”

               “I didn’t!” she cried, rising from the bed into a sitting position and moving through the apartment towards the kitchen. There was a small light on above the stove, just so when Michael returned, he didn’t have to come back to a dark apartment. She always left a light on for him. “I’m not even much of a coffee drinker, and if I do, it's two cups a day tops. And always with milk, like a cappuccino or some shit. And I don’t drink energy drinks! Michael would have an aneurysm if he saw me with one, fucking hypocrite.”

               “Then what’s going on, kid? Talk to me.”

               Y/N huffed, dragging a hand down her face, a habit she’d picked up from her boyfriend whenever she was frustrated, and leaned against the kitchen island. “Sara came over for dinner and whatnot, and she brought these chocolates. Long story short, I ate half of the box in one go. Then, thirty minutes later, I started to feel weird. Like, very weird. I thought it might be because of the chicken, like maybe I undercooked it, but there is no fucking way I undercooked it because I checked every single piece. And so, I thought maybe my period was coming earlier than usual, but they’re not the usual symptoms, and I haven’t been PMS-ing and pissed off that people are breathing around me. Jack, I looked at the fucking box, and it was the chocolates! All of them have caffeine!” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I mean, who does that? Who puts caffeine in chocolate candies? Why do I have to check the ingredient list of fucking chocolate?”

               A deep sigh emerged from Jack. “Okay, so you said you had half a box. How much is that? The recommended maximum does of caffeine for an adult is four hundred milligrams a day. Can you look up how much is in one serving?”

               “Sure.” Y/N glared at the candy box at her side, hoping it would combust from her stare alone. “Sixty-six milligrams in one serving. I had fifteen chocolates.”

               “And how much is one serving?”

               For a second, she just stood there quietly, still in disbelief at the situation she’d found herself in. “One chocolate is one serving.”

               “And you had fifteen.”

               “Yep.”

               “So, your total caffeine intake in one go was nine-hundred ninety milligrams.”

               “Apparently?” She rubbed at the back of her neck. Another one of Michael’s mannerisms she’d adopted since they started dating. “You’re the one who can do math on the fly inside your head! I can barely string a sentence together. Jack, just please tell me, will I die? I’ll leave Michael a note on the door or something. He shouldn’t have to deal with my body and stuff… can you, like, come and pick it up and drop it off at the morgue, once, you know, once I’m done and dusted?”

               “Look, there’s a ninety-eight percent likelihood, you’re gonna be fine, but as you said yourself, you’re not much of a caffeine user, so this will be hitting you harder,” Jack explained through a snort. “Your body simply isn’t adjusted to such a large amount, and I really think you should get down to the ED. If only for your own peace of mind.”

               “Is there some sort of medication you can put me on to minimize the effects?”

               “Unfortunately, with caffeine, you can only ride it out. We can hook you up to an IV, replenish you with electrolytes, as it is a diuretic, but other than that, not much.”

               Y/N threw her head back in a whine. “I really don’t wanna bother Michael. Is… am I gonna get worse? It’s been like an hour and half since I ate them.”

               “Probably,” Jack confirmed. “As your body absorbs and processes the caffeine, you might start feeling anxious, get a headache, kick up your heart rate, and exhibit other symptoms.”

               “Already have a headache,” she grumbled, massaging her temples.

               “Look, in good conscience, I can’t not tell Robby about this, and you know I won’t lie to him if asked.”

               Y/N gasped. “What about doctor-patient confidentiality? I called you as an MD.”

               “And I received a call from my friend, not my patient.”

               “But he’s working!”

               “And even so, he’s probably still worrying about you somewhere in the back of his mind.” She heard some shifting and grunting on Jack’s end before he asked, “Are you home?”

               “Yeah, I’m home,” she muttered, resigned.

               “Then I’ll come pick you up in twenty minutes, and we’ll drive down to the ED together. If you don’t want Robby to call in VIP privileges, you can ride it out in the breakroom, alright?”

               “Fine,” Y/N finally relented, turning around and pressing her forehead against the stone kitchen island, knowing if she didn’t listen to Jack, she’d only get worse and would probably worry herself into an early grave, if the chocolates didn’t do the job first. “Fine, yeah. Thanks, Jack.”

               “Don’t sweat it, kid. I’ll call you when I’m downstairs.”

               But she did. As she waited the twenty minutes it took Jack to get to her and Michael’s place, she had started chugging water, an insatiable thirst appearing. Then, she already had to pee, so she drank more afterwards, and when the sweats came, making her change out of Michael’s old comfy shirt she’d taken as her pajamas, her anxiety heightened even more.

               By the time the night shift attending arrived and was knocking at Y/N’s door, she was looking worse for wear.

               “Don’t.” She put a palm up, shaking her head as he entered and helped her pack a to-go bag with anything she might need to pass the time while she changed into something more appropriate than a tank and booty shorts. It wasn’t like she’d expected a midnight visit to her boyfriend’s work. “Don’t you dare say anything.”

               “I wasn’t!” Jack put his hands up in surrender, though, unmistakably, that rare smile he only dished out for a few people, bloomed on his face.

               She just side-eyed him, a scowl on her own features. “Yeah, right you weren’t.”

               The ride to the ED was filled with worried glances from Jack towards a very fidgety Y/N, as she kept shaking her knee up and down, biting the inside of her cheek, and playing with the strings of her sweatpants. “You okay there?”

               She shuffled in the seat and huffed. “I feel like I wanna crawl out of my skin. I’m sweating from the inside out. Like, I wanna rip my skin off and leave the flesh suit to cool off in the North Pole or something.”

               “Trust me, you don’t. Ever seen a de-gloved leg or a scalping?”

               Y/N gagged. “No. And I don’t want to. Michael tried to make me watch Saw. I’m bad enough with the fake stuff, let alone ever seeing the real thing. Again. I had enough with the leg.”

               “He,” Jack raised both his brows and threw her a surprised look. “Tried to make you, the most squeamish person we both know, watch Saw?”

               “Yeah. He said he’d explain things, like how inaccurate and whatnot they were, and what special effects were used or something, to try and lessen my aversion to gore.”

               “And did it work?”

               She threw a glare and crossed her arms. “I locked myself in your room until he promised to put on When Harry Met Sally, unless he wanted to sleep alone on the living room floor.”

               Jack shook his head, huffing a laugh low under his breath as finally the lights of the ED came in view. Y/N turned to look at him with a pout. “Are you gonna make me do the walk of shame?”

               “Sweets, if I could, I’d roll out the red carpet, because, quite honestly, I find this hilarious.”

               “Thanks. At least someone’s finding joy in my misery.” Her dry response pulled another smile from him.

               As they got out of his car and made their way to the entrance, whatever hope she’d had of being able to get past everyone without much of a fuss died. Or maybe it was another delusion due to the caffeine, because the second her foot went past the sliding doors, Dana’s head whipped up to look at the intruders.

               “Y/N?” The blonde walked around the HUB, her steps quick and determined. “What are you doing here?”

               “What are you doing here?” she rebutted. “You’re the day shift’s charge nurse.”

               A sly smirk appeared on her face. “Both departments switched around. All night shift is now day’s, and all day is night’s.”

               Y/H/C haired woman couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her. “Bet Gloria was ecstatic about that.”

               “I think she called us walking-talking migraines.”

               “Speaking of migraines…” Jack piped in, arms crossed over his chest, and slowly rolling back and forth from toes to heels. Dana did a quick double-take between the two and raised a skeptical brow.

               “Do I need to get Robby?”

               “Everything’s fine.” Y/N rolled her eyes because with each passing second, more and more embarrassment flushed through her system. God, she should have just stayed with Dr. Google’s diagnosis and prepared for death instead of all this. “I’m just being dramatic.”

               “Please do get Robby,” Jack said as Dana narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

              Y/N grimaced. “It’s really not that serious.”

               “It is,” he shook his head, solemn. “She’s dying.”

               “Oh, fuck off,” she scoffed, crossing her arms, but the whole time she was tapping her foot and shifting, eyes darting around the Pitt. Who knew such tiny, sweet, delicious things could wreak such havoc on one’s life?

               The wait wasn’t long as Dana went to grab her boyfriend, and the man was by her side in almost a split second, pure panic on his bearded face. “What’s wrong?” He took her cheeks between his hands, and Y/N sighed at his touch. “Wha – Whoa, okay. What’s going on? Your pupils are huge!”

               Jack snickered from beside her and extended his hand that had somehow conjured up the chocolate box with the nutritional information. He most likely had just taken it as she’d packed, but with her brain going haywire, everything was magic. “Your girl’s riding high on caffeine, that’s what’s happening.”

               Michael frowned, taking the carton in his hands and reading it. “What are these?”

               “Chocolates with caffeine. And she said she had fifteen of them.”

               “Yeah,” Y/N nodded. “In my defense, and I told you this,” she pointed right at the night-shift doctor, “I shouldn’t have to read the contents of chocolate candy! It should just be chocolate, not laced with a legalized form of drugs.”

               “Okay,” Michael dragged out, but not before assessing if she might be hurt somewhere else. “I think we have a room available. We can hook you up to an IV, get some electrolytes in your syste-,”

               “I don’t want to take up space like that,” Y/N stopped him mid-sentence, placing her palms against his chest. “Honestly, halfway here, I wanted to ask Jack if we could turn around because this is just embarrassing as fuck. I just freaked, you know… didn’t really know what was happening and panicked…”

               “Hey, no, it’s okay.” Michael shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re here. You felt like you needed help and sought it out. That’s a good thing.”

               She just huffed but nodded, biting her lip at the situation.

               “Okay,” her boyfriend said, placing a hand against the small of her back. The warm look he gave her was kind; one that made her heart beat out of her chest (which was so not helping in that moment), before turning to Jack and pulling him in a hug. “Thank you for bringing her here. Now, go home and get some proper rest. Next beer’s on me, brother.”

               “Can you two stop bromancing right in front of my eyes?” Y/N raised a brow. “I mean, at least give me the courtesy of gaslighting and telling me I’m insane for feeling the intense chemistry between my boyfriend and his quote-unquote best friend.”

               “You know what, next time anything happens, I’m not coming to your rescue,” Jack pointed at her.

               “Yeah, you are.”

               “Yeah, I am,” he dropped his head in resignation, and with that gave them all a final wave before exiting the hospital to hopefully get some much needed sleep.

               Michael brought Y/N into his side and tapped her hip. “Come on. If you don’t want a bed, you can stay in the breakroom.”

               With a final grumble, she accepted defeat and followed him to the staff lounge, his hand wrapped around her shoulders, so he could pull her body into his. As they walked, she could feel he wanted to say something, so with a slight nudge to his ribs from her as encouragement, he broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

               “Sure. Anything.”

               “Why did you call Jack, not me?”

               Y/N sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “For one, you were basically just starting your shift, so I didn’t want to disturb or distract you. And two, I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden. Like you have so much to do here, so much to manage and lead. I can’t call you for every minor inconvenience.”

               “Sweetheart…” The tone of his voice made her heart ache, especially as he kissed the top of her head. Or was it another symptom of the caffeine overdose? “I want you to inconvenience me. I want to worry about you. I always do. And yes, maybe a call or text would come at the wrong time, but I – I want to be the person you come to with your worries and questions. They might seem minor to you, but if you even have the smallest of doubts, I want to be the one to dispel them… I like being needed by you.”

               “I do. I just don’t want you to feel like I need you whenever it’s a health issue or something. I don’t… I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

               Michael stopped them in their tracks and pulled her before him, both hands gently cupping her neck and thumbs rubbing against her jaw. “You’re not. And the times you are, well… I have never and will never complain. If I do, please contact the psych ward.”

               Y/N tilted her head to the side as she let Michael’s words register, his face flushing scarlet, and her mouth dropped open in a wide and shocked grin. “Did you just make a sex joke?”

               “I’m very much so regretting it.”

               “Dr. Robby,” she purred, stepping closer and dragging both hands up his chest, his ears turning fire-engine red.

               She never called him that. He’d asked her to call him Michael the first time they’d met, and she’d always honored his request. He said he wanted to feel like just a normal person around her, not a doctor, but one time, as Y/N was naked and on top of him, the two of them christening the surfaces of their new flat; both their bodies covered in sweat and chests heaving from an hour of foreplay, when she finally sank down on his hard cock, she’d teasingly referred to him by the nickname they used at the Pitt.

               The ungodly moan he let out told her everything she needed to know, so now, whenever she wanted to rile him up a bit, she called him Dr. Robby.

               “Not here,” Michael breathed out heavily, his composure cracking before her eyes. “And not now.”      

               “Why? Now that I’m thinking about it, sex might be a good way to get rid of this caffeine. I mean, I have so much energy! In fact, it’d be the best way!”

               Their eyes met. Her pupils were huge because of the caffeine and lust, his from pure desire. And probably an ungodly amount of coffee too, cause that man practically ran on shitty hospital beverages. Just as Y/N was about to place her hand on his bicep, Michael spun around on his heel and away from her touch, muttering, “I love having a medical license,” under his breath.

               She snorted, but followed him, entering the empty breakroom. “You’re no fun.”

               “And you need to drink a lot of water.” He went over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of water bottles, placing them on the small table. “Eat something.” He grabbed a sandwich and a protein bar, both written on with a red marker ‘ROBINAVITCH’S! DO NOT EAT, ABBOT!’. “And rest. Lots and lots of rest. Unless you want an IV.”

               Y/N winced, as if he’d already stuck a needle in her arm. “That will be my very last resort.”

               “But you do promise to tell me if you need it?”

               She looked him in the eyes, his brows expectantly pulled up, hands on his hips as he awaited her response. She could just tell him she’d be fine, that even if it got so bad to the point she was crawling up the walls, she’d rather not inconvenience him, but… sometimes she needed him too. And she worried about him, too.

               She worried when he was on shift and missing meals, she worried if his heart was heavy after a bad day, and she worried when he worried. So she couldn’t do that to him; she couldn’t add more onto it.

               “Promise,” Y/N mumbled, confirming the word with a kiss to his lips, and plopped down onto the worn sofa, closing her eyes and resting her head against the back.

               Two large hands settled on her shoulders, Michael’s fingers gently digging into them, rubbing at the tension that’d gathered in her body, and her mind couldn’t help but drift to that first time he’d massaged her.

               It had been three weeks after her final cast had been removed, after starting physio and slowly regaining the strength in the leg she’d broken, muscles weak after weeks of disuse.

               Y/N’s back and shoulders had been killing her. For two months, she’d been on crutches, so Michael, ever the doting boyfriend, suggested she go to a sports masseuse. When she’d gotten there, the man had asked if she was a professional swimmer, given how jacked her back had gotten from constantly carrying her weight on her hands. Safe to say, the knots were immense, as was the pain.

               But the forty-minute sessions once a week could only do so much, and with physical therapy every other day, it was like her body didn’t know how to release the tension.

               She’d been lying down on her stomach on Michael’s bed, stretching her arms out in front of her before slowly moving to rest on her knees in the child’s pose, her spine audibly popping as she tried to move her arms even further out and relax her neck. She only noticed the apartment’s owner return from work when he let out a low whistle.

               “Oh, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes? Don’t mind coming home to this view, that’s for sure.”

               Y/N snorted, what with her wearing nothing but one of his old university shirts and a pair of just-below-the-cheeks shorts. Michael had been absolutely horrified when she’d dug the piece of clothing out from some long forgotten crevice in the closet, big block numbers of the year he’d graduated on the back, but when she’d pulled it on, all protests died on the tip of his tongue. She didn’t need him to say anything; the smirk and him biting his lip, was enough of a giveaway as to what he was thinking.

               A low harrumph escaped her as she adjusted her shoulder blades. “My back’s killing me, but I don’t know if this is helping or making it worse.”

               The bed dipped beside her, but she didn’t lift her head as Michael’s hand touched along her spine, pressing on each and every vertebrae. “Where does it hurt?”

               “Like right between my shoulder blades, in that spot I can’t scratch.”

               It was annoying enough when an itch appeared there, but having to walk around with a pain she couldn’t get rid of, no matter how many exercises or yoga positions she tried, was another level of torture.

               “Want me to give you a massage?” Michael asked, his hands moving up and down Y/N’s arched back.

               “Do you have a masseur license, I don’t know about or something?”

               The man just scoffed. “Need I remind you, I’m a full-blown fucking doctor.”

               “And? You might be good with scalpels and needles, but that doesn’t mean you know how to give a proper massage.”

               “You do realize I went through years of med school and know more about the human anatomy than a masseur.”

               Y/N huffed and turned her head to the side so she could squint at him, Michael giving her the best puppy eyes he could in return, and damn, she could never argue with that look.

               “Just let me help you. Please,” the last word was more a whisper than anything. “I hate seeing you in pain.”

               “Fine,” she groaned, straightening out her legs and pulling a pillow beneath her cheek. “But if you mess something up, your patient satisfaction score’s coming down.”

               “Good God, Gloria will be pissed.”

               A snort so violent she felt it in her throat, left the woman, Michael chuckling along as he toyed with the hem of the shirt she had on. One of his, as usual. “Okay if I take this off?”

               “Sure. Nothing you haven’t seen before.” Y/N shrugged. “Well, maybe you haven’t seen the tramp stamp I got the other day -,”

               “The what?” The tone of his voice was ice-cold and filled with concern.

               Y/N smirked, throwing him a glance and wiggling her ass against the thigh he’d settled between her legs. “That turn you on, Michael?”

               “Sweetheart, I swear, if you went out to a tattoo parlor while still healing from surgery, I will be your personal nightmare.” He was pulling the shirt up, almost ripping the fabric, while lowering the shorts. “That’s a fucking blood infection waiting to happen.”

               She rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. Don’t be such a goody-two-shoes.”

               “Your health and well-being isn’t something to joke about.”

               “Maybe, but freaking you out is kinda funny.”

               “Laugh while you still can, sweetheart.” Michael dug his fingers in Y/N’s sides, making her shriek in laughter at the ticklish sensation.

               She swatted back at him, and finally, he took the shirt fully off, sliding her shorts down her thighs and leaving her only in simple cotton panties, as he settled with his legs outside of hers.

               It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly the man who was caging her thighs between his, fell short of breath. Y/N could practically hear it stutter, as his fingers skimmed along the middle of her back, no bra in sight.

               Her own body turned molten, as this was the first time since, well, since their first and only time, when she’d been naked before him. Sure, Michael had offered his help whenever he thought Y/N needed some with showering while she had the cast, but she’d always waved him off and managed on her own, too stubborn for such a thing.

               The woman shifted a bit on the bed, unconsciously or maybe consciously moving her clothed core closer to where she could feel Michael’s own growing arousal. The small movement of her hips allowed her to drag her pussy over his scrubs, creating soft, yet oh so delicious friction.

               “Sweetheart,” there was a warning note in the singular word, yet he did nothing to stop her. In fact, his thumbs had hooked underneath the sides of her panties, rounding the skin along her ass cheeks. “I’m supposed to be helping you relax.”

               “You are,” Y/N sighed as she moved her hips more, and the way Michael suppressed a moan at the feeling of her soaked-through underwear rubbing against his obviously straining cock, was divine. “But I’d prefer if you massaged some other muscles. Now that would relax me immensely.”

               A low, deep, ‘fuck’ echoed around them, but it seemed all her teasing had shattered something in the resolve he’d held for over two months as she healed, as ever so gently, one of his thumbs went to slide up and down the already embarrassingly wet patch between her legs, making Y/N’s breath hitch. “You know, I don’t even remember why I ever denied us this.”

               “Because you’re a horrible, cruel man,” she whined as his finger pressed down where the little bundle of nerves had swelled. “You’d rather turn me into an incel than risk even mild discomfort.”

               His eyes snapped up to find hers. “Are you in pai-,”

               Y/N’s hand wrapped around his wrist and gripped it tight in place, gaze blazing as she stared him down. “If you stop right now, I will make sure you never get to use your hands or dick ever again.”

               “Duly noted.”

               And that was enough for him to begin again.

               Tight, solid presses around the area of her clit, but never directly on it, that’s what she’d told Michael she liked most, and it seemed like he’d taken that information to heart even after all those months that’d passed since their one-night stand. When he was satisfied with how much she was squirming, he moved her panties to the side and rubbed right around the bundle of nerves with his naked fingers, but never pressed on it.

               “Please,” Y/N whimpered. “Please, Michael, I need you inside me.”

               His guttural groan sent a wave of pleasure straight to her core, but she could feel him shake his head as he leaned over and pecked her cheek, never stopping the motions. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

               And she got him. She really, truly understood his hesitation, but Y/N was way too horny to think about anything but coming and making Michael come.

               “Look,” she twisted around underneath him, instantly missing his touch and needing to press her thighs together to get some friction now that her underwear had slid back in place. It was worse when his large hands cupped her breasts and squeezed the flesh. “We don’t have to do any kind of fucking acrobatics, alright. But I highly doubt some slow missionary sex will put me in a wheelchair. And I know…” Her hand slid over his chest and pecks, down his navel, and cupped him right over his aching cock, straining against the scrubs he still had on. “You want this, too. Need this.”

               Michael was one of the strongest men she knew. One of the most solid and unshakable people in her life, but Y/N had never been so happy about him breaking so quickly.

               He kissed her like his life depended on it, only pulling apart to take off the scrub top and the long-sleeved shirt underneath. “You promise to tell me if you’re in pain?” Michael asked in between ridding himself of the clothes and the one final piece she still had on, panties flung somewhere in the room, getting them blissfully bare. “Swear it?”

               “I promise,” she said, mouthing at his jaw, neck, shoulders, anywhere she could get her lips on. “And I promise I don’t have some secret tattoo made with a needle picked up from the ED floor, so I’m clean in every sense of the word.”

               He sighed, and if his eyes hadn’t been closed in pleasure from her kisses, Y/N was sure they would have rolled to the back of his skull. “Good to know.” He twisted his head to the side and took her cheek in his hand, taking her lips with his. “So am I, but even so, there should be a condom involved.”

               “Whoa.” Y/N pushed him away a bit, panting and brows drawn together. “Why the hell wouldn’t you be clean?”

               For a second, a bewildered look crossed his face, and then Michael deadpanned, “Santos literally dropped a scalpel into someone’s foot yesterday. A used one. Again. Take a wild guess why I need to take STI tests almost daily.”

               Instantly, she turned her head away, shame creeping through her body as she chewed on her lip, not wanting to admit the stupidity of what she’d just said and insinuated. She knew Michael was fateful. Though they’d only been dating for barely three months, and most of it (well, quite honestly, all of it), without any sex, Y/N just had a gut feeling he wasn’t like the men who believed sex kept the relationship ‘alive’ and whatnot.  She knew it all. And she should have known his reasoning for confirming he was clean, too.

               “Hey…” Michael’s eyes had softened as time passed without an answer from her, his pointer finger and thumb trapping her chin and making her look at him. “I swear to you – you’re the only one for me, okay? I’m not looking at anyone else, let alone thinking about it. I just want you to know you’re safe with me. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. As I said, I don’t joke about your health. And I would never break your trust like that.”

               “No, I know,” Y/N shook her head. “It was a stupid question anyway. Should’ve known…”

               “No, it wasn’t,” Michael instantly responded. “And I shouldn’t have replied like it’s a normal thing for people who don’t work in healthcare or similar. I’m sorry.”

               She trailed a finger along the chain of his necklace. “ ‘M sorry I overreacted.”

               He just leaned down and pecked her mouth. “You didn’t. When it’s not part of your everyday routine, and you only get tested once or twice a year at the doctor’s, unless prompted otherwise, I understand how things might sound… wrong… Not everyone has to deal with bodily fluids on a daily basis. Some getting into orifices we wouldn’t want them to. Better safe than sorry, especially now that I have you to come home to.”

               Y/N scrunched her nose, letting out a small smile as the tension released. “Well, that isn’t a particularly arousing image.”

               Michael hummed, nudging her nose with his. “Would my head between your legs perhaps rectify the situation?”

               She acted as if she was thinking over the suggestion before nodding her head. “Perhaps. We’d definitely be moving in the right direction.”

               “So, then down we go,” Michael muttered, placing a kiss to her collarbone, and she giggled at the slight scratch of his beard against her skin, as he slowly slid over her body to settle in the place he’d mentioned – right between her wide-open legs.

               Kissing her thigh, he looked up at her. “You swear you’ll tell me if anything hurts?” A gentle thumb rubbed against where her scars from the surgery were. The touch was as light as butterfly wings, making her shiver.

               “I promise, Michael,” Y/N sighed, giving him a reassuring smile. “The only actual thing hurting me right now is your stalling.”

               “However…” a kiss to the hip, “will you…” to the inside of her thigh, “survive?” and one searing hot kiss to her clit, making her body twitch in anticipation.

               “I might just not if you keep it up like this,” she gasped, a hand weaving into Michael’s short hair, trying to tug his face closer to her pussy, to get him to alleviate the building ache in her being. Ache only he could soothe.

               It could be the fact that she hadn’t gotten laid since before she broke her leg. Or it could be the fact she’d fallen in love with him over those past few months. Whatever the reason, it took Michael barely a minute to have her writhing and gasping his name, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

               His large hands were tight around her hips, holding Y/N’s body down so she couldn’t shift away from his mouth as he brought her overwhelming pleasure, fingers kneading the soft flesh of her stomach.

               “Fuck,” the word was half-choked, half-gasped out as his tongue circled around her clit. If she didn’t have something to hold on to, she was sure to drop over that cliff and float away, so almost instinctively, one of the hands she’d twisted into the sheets sought out Michael, their fingers intertwining in a tight hold.

               He was the only thing keeping her grounded, keeping her from shattering into millions of little pieces without a way of putting her back together.

               “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” Michael murmured, as he released from her pussy and kissed her leg, while his unoccupied hand rubbed at the crease of her thigh before sliding to the inside and slowly brushed two fingers through her slick, sliding them around her entrance, but not pushing in just yet.

               “You’ve been very mean,” Y/N nodded as he finally pushed a single digit inside, and then the other, stretching her out and filling her up. “So mean to me.”

               He hummed, mirth in his eyes as she looked down at him, a furrow to her brows, and mouth slightly open with short pants passing her lips.

“I guess you deserve a proper apology then?”

               “And are you gonna make me beg for it?” she groaned, as his tongue flicked against her clit while his fingers kept up a slow, but steady pace, curling and uncurling in search of the spot that made her back arch. “Not really an apology though, if I have to ask for one.”

               Michael shook his head and tutted. “No, sweetheart, I’m not gonna make you beg for it. But I will make you beg for reprieve.”

               Y/N couldn’t help the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the words, especially when he fully reattached his mouth onto her, and his fingers increased their pace. She’d drenched him already down to the wrist, and the crescendo was coming fast and hard, her hold on Michael tightening with every passing second. It only took one low, deep groan from him, and the vibrations ringing through her clit, that made the coil in her stomach snap.

               The force of her orgasm took her breath away, hitching somewhere between her throat and mouth. Black and white spots danced across the inside of her eyelids as she continuously ground her clit against Michael’s giving mouth, her pussy pulsing around his thick fingers as the last of the pleasure seeped through her veins like lava.

               “You with me, sweetheart?” she heard his voice, muffled as it was through the haze of bliss.

               Y/N could only hum, a self-satisfied smile on her face while her eyes fought to open. When they did, she was met with a smug Michael, beard glistening with her come as he still remained between her open legs. The hand not in her clutches rubbed soothing circles on her hip. She couldn’t even really say anything, because the damned bastard had a reason to be smug, so with a gentle nudge of her foot against his ribs, she urged him up and towards her.

               She wove both her hands into his hair, his own moving to help him rest the weight on his forearms stationed by her head. “I need you inside me,” she moaned through a kiss, and was rewarded by a groan of pleasure from him, as she shifted her hips so her wetness could glide over his needy cock.

               Thick and hard, and begging for attention. Just like she remembered it from their first time.

               Her mouth moved to kiss along his cheeks and jaw, tongue tasting her own release that shone in the short hairs across his face, and it only added to the overall euphoria as Michael reached over to the side to grab a condom from the nightstand’s top drawer, her lips moving to leave marks over his chest and neck.

               “What a convenient place,” Y/N muttered, giving his jugular a small bite. “You sure you’re not having some secret rendezvous here with a mysterious lady? The hundred-pack’s quite big, especially given how we haven’t had sex since before my accident. And it was at mine, by the way.”

               When Michael threw her a scalding gaze, she couldn’t help but snicker. “You’re the one that put them in there, remember?” She heard the cardboard box ripping open and the sound of a foil wrapper being taken out. “Besides, I don’t need some secret mistress. We’ll go through this quick enough ourselves. I have a reputation to uphold, don't I?”

               With that promise lingering in the air, and the mischievous smile on Michael’s face, he unwrapped the condom, while Y/N’s hand lowered to stroke his cock for a bit, just to hear his breathing stutter and rumble. Fuck, she’d missed him, her body humming with desire.

               Ever so slowly, still no doubt keeping in mind she hadn’t been on both her feet for too long, Michael pressed his cock against her entrance and slid inside.

               It was heaven, she decided. It had to be. Especially when he lowered himself so their chests pressed together, not an inch between the two, hearts thumping in the same rhythm – a question and an answer.

               For a moment, they just breathed in one another, gazes locked and making sure the other was alright. But it was Michael’s next words that shattered the quiet moment.

               “That day I said I was falling in love with you a few weeks ago, I lied. I already was in love with you.” His tone was low and soft, forehead dipping down to rest against hers. “I don’t really know what else it could be. This feeling, right here.” He tapped against the center of his chest. “And I know we haven’t been together that long, which is why I didn’t say it then. And it might be too soon now as well, but fuck… I think of you when I’m at work, I think of you before I go to sleep, and you’re my first thought when I awake.” His smile was as soft as Y/N was feeling. “I don’t need you to say anything back, just because I’ve done it. But I am in love with you.”

               A singular tear slid down her cheek, and Michael caught it with his thumb before it could disappear into her hair by her temple. “I’m in love with you, too. How could I not be when it’s as easy as breathing?”

                A somewhat surprised chuckle escaped him, as if he hadn’t expected her to reciprocate, but all she could see was the absolute joy lighting up his face. His crow lines grew more prominent than ever, and his lips pulled apart in a wide grin, deepening the smile lines in his cheeks. Her own facial muscles mimicked his almost involuntarily, because what else could she do when the man she was in love with basically told her she was his universe?

               The kiss he gave her was so full of love and adoration, a couple of more tears spilled, and Michael wiped them away with the same gentle care he’d shown her since she’d met him.

               It was a tiny shift of his hips that made Y/N gasp into his mouth. It’d been way too long without him. And she was already sensitive from her previous orgasm, so every drag and motion of his body made heat zing through hers. It was pathetic, really, she thought, how she would never get enough of this man.

               A man she’d met at a bar on a whim, and went on to have a one-night stand with.

               A man who unceremoniously dipped that same morning without so much as a kiss or word goodbye.

               A man who helped nurse her back to health and made sure she was taken care of. Who worried about her and took her well-being as his number one priority. Who loved her with his whole chest and soul.

               However, when he started to pull away from her, lips detaching from the kiss they were sharing, confusion and sharp hurt panged in her heart.

               “What?” Y/N gasped out, hands reaching for his shoulders as Michael straightened out to sit on his haunches, but didn’t pull out. Black, desire-filled, pupil-blown eyes stared down at her. “No, no, no, please come back. Please.” She didn’t care she was begging at this point. She needed him as close as possible.

               The wicked smile on his face should have been a dead giveaway that he was up to something, as his hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them and pinching her nipples before moving over her stomach, hips, and then thighs, lifting each so her lower legs rested against his shoulders. “I think we should incorporate some physio, don’t you?”

               Y/N’s chest heaved, mind barely registering anything he was saying due to the slow thrusts he was continuously giving. The way his cock was dragging against her walls, filling her blood with a primal sort of need, was driving her insane. “Aren’t we already doing it?”

               “Well, we’re definitely engaging in some cardio.” He huffed a laugh, and the motion sent a ripple of pleasure through, as his body lightly shook and made the coarse curls at the base of his cock rub against her clit. “But some light stretches won’t hurt. In fact,” he pressed a kiss to her shin, “might have you up and at it quicker. And that would definitely have us using up those condoms faster.”

               The thought of Michael finally above her again, or below her, or beside her with his cock drifting in and out like it was in that same moment, or with him pounding away from behind, made her tremble in need. And it didn’t help when he gripped her by the ankles, raising her legs straight up in the air, her own hand moving up by the pillow to have something to hold on to, because the new angle was tight. It built pressure in her lower stomach, her thighs squeezed together, amplifying the way he was stretching her inside.

               “Slow and steady.” He slid his hands down her legs and gripped her knees, settling his large palms on the underside to push them against her chest. The stretch was euphoric, and so was the feeling of his dick going deeper. “Good.”

               Y/N moaned at the single word, and he awarded her with a harder thrust, one that finally reached that hard-to-find place, one that only Michael knew how to get to.

               “Now,” he husked, his own breathing ragged and strained as he slid his hands to rest on the insides of her bent knees. “We’re gonna bring them right down to the bed.”

               And with that, he separated her limbs, gently pushing against her knees and opening her up for him, so that they rested against the bedding, Y/N on full display for Michael’s pleasure and satisfaction. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but he gripped her chin and tilted it downwards, his brown lust-filled gaze demanding her attention. “On me. Eyes on me.”

               With all her remaining strength, she obeyed, eyes half-lidded as she watched Michael’s chest puff up in pride. God, she was down bad for this man. Strong, independent woman, where? She was nowhere to be seen, not as one of his thumbs dragged over back to her clit, giving her tight rubs. Not as her hand shot up from the pillow she’d been clutching, only for her nails to dig deep into his biceps, bright crescent marks blooming on his skin. Surely not when he leaned over her, his necklace dangling before her mouth, and she took it between her teeth like that first time they’d spent together.

               His head dropped forward as he moaned her name, lips skimming hers. “Fuck… What a lucky man am I, huh?” Another groan cut off his laugh. “Luckiest in the world to have you.”

               Y/N’s hands slid across his ribs, over the wide planes of his chest, before settling on the nape of his neck. “I love you so fucking much.”

               And much like she had, tears welled along his bottom lashes. She wiped them away with a kiss to each of his cheeks before they could drop any lower. These were the only kind of tears she’d allow him to shed for the rest of their lives, Y/N decided. From an overwhelming kind of love. These were the only tears he deserved.

               With his head tucked in her neck, Michael grasped her thighs and wove them around his waist, her heels digging deep into the small of his back, pressing them even closer.

               She could tell he was close. With the way his abdomen tightened, with the way he lost the consistent rhythm as he tried to get her to come again. But she wouldn’t. Not before him. She wanted to do it together, so as Michael mouthed at her clavicle, she pulled his earlobe between her teeth and lightly bit down on the soft skin.

               “One day,” she gasped against his ear, “we’re gonna come back from a night out. We’ll have a bit of wine in us, and we’ll be handsy with one another. We’ll stumble to the bedroom and open that top drawer of yours only to find we don’t have any condoms. And we’ll say ‘fuck it’ and do this raw. With nothing between us. And you’re gonna bend me in half and fill me up so I’m leaking for days. And I’m gonna put some panties on and walk around with your come in me, and the world will be none the wiser about how you’ve marked me from the inside out. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N licked the shell of his ear. “And when you come back home from a shift, you’d get to lick me out and fill me right back up. Stuff me full to the very brim, and stay there the whole night, making sure that not even a drop. Trickles. Out.”

               “Jesus fucking Christ!” Michael moaned, and his whole body went rigid as Y/N felt his cock twitch while he emptied himself in the condom. And as she’d planned, her second orgasm of the night crashed over like a wave, so powerful she swore she saw a supernova explode behind her lids.

               He was panting and shivering and shaking as he came down from his high, and so was she; her whole body twitching while his hips gently shifted to ride out the last of both their highs. “Fucking hell, I’m so in love with you, it’s not even funny. And I’m not just saying that because this might’ve been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

               “Better than those four hours?” Y/N kissed his neck and buried her nose in the skin. He smelled of sweat and love and everything she wanted in life.

               “So much better.” He cupped her cheek, turning his head so they could look at one another. There was a glassy, unfocused film over his gaze, and pride swelled in her body that she’d gotten him to that state. “Because now I was doing it with someone I’m in love with. And what could possibly be better than that?”

               Every subsequent round was more intense than the last, and Michael had held onto the promise to have Y/N begging for reprieve. When she had her hips above his face, hands desperately grabbing onto the headboard, while he lavished on her pussy like a feast. When she spun around, her mouth on his cock while he shoved his tongue deeper inside, and swallowed every drop she offered like it was the elixir of life, much like she did when he came down her throat. And when she laid on her side facing him, breathless and panting for more as his arm wrapped around her waist to hold her against him, his dick slowly grinding in and out, mouths not separating for a single second of it, bodies twisting into one another as one final release came. When he swiped his thumb along her clit, Y/N had to shoot her hand out to wrap around his wrist. His smirk confirmed he was a man of his word.

               It was true. Everything was better when you did it with the person you were in love with. The small touches, the domestic moments, the hardships and pain. All of it was better with the love of your life by your side. Even riding out a caffeine high in the Pitt’s breakroom with Michael gently massaging her shoulders was better than if she were doing this alone at home, no matter how she might've protested.

               Y/N sighed as Michael dug his fingers a bit deeper into her shoulders. “Thank you,” she muttered, rolling her head to the side and kissing the top of his hand.

               “Nothing to thank me for,” he responded. “Never thank me for needing me, because I need you too, and this need…” he sighed, resting his cheek on her head, weaving his arms around her in a hug. “It’s bone deep. It’s something you can’t carve out. It’s a part of me, and I don’t think it will ever go away. Even if you decide I’m not enough, I’ll be needing you for however long I live.” He kissed her cheek, the scruff lightly scratching against her skin. She loved his beard and the marks it left. Especially between her thighs. “I always need you. And I can only hope you always need me too. So, please don’t ever apologize for asking, no matter what it is. It’s the only thing I want in life.”

               “I do. Need you, that is.” Y/N swallowed the lump forming in her throat, eyes burning as she took in his sincere words. “I don’t think there will ever be a time in my life now, where I don’t. Because you’re more than I ever thought I’d get to have. You’re kind, compassionate, and love me even when I do stupid things. You’re more than enough for me, so don’t ever doubt that, Michael.”

               They embraced like that for a little while longer, and Y/N could feel her heart slow down from the frantic caffeine-fueled gallop it’d been racing at to match the speed of Michael’s, his chest pressed to her back. But all these moments had to come to an end, as Dana poked her head inside, an apologetic smile on her face.

               “You doing alright, kid?”

               Y/N sighed, nodding. “As good as I can be after being betrayed by chocolate. You need this guy out there?”

               “Unfortunately,” the blonde motioned with her head towards the Pitt that was always on the verge of chaos.

               With a resigned sigh, he released Y/N from his hold. She missed his touch instantly. “Call me if you need me.”

               “I will,” Y/N put up a thumb to which Michael pressed a quick kiss. She laughed as she whipped around. “You missed!”

               The beaming smile on his face did nothing for the poor organ beating in her chest as it resumed a gallop, especially as he gave her a proper, toe-curling smooch. “I love you,” he muttered into her mouth.

               “I love you too.”

               And with that, she was left on her own.

               Hours ticked by, and Y/N tried to take her mind off of everything by reading the smutty novel of a wayward ghost of Christmas past, then knitting some mittens for Jack, which she’d decided she’d give him as a Christmas gift. She did some yoga and some crossword puzzles, getting stuck at a word, but her pride not allowing her to use Google for help. She’d had enough Googling for one night as it was.

               By the time 2AM rolled around, she felt like she’d gone through every attention-grabbing thing she could, now aimlessly doomscrolling on her phone, and apart from literally standing on her head, there wasn’t much to occupy her time.

               Damn her and her chocolate addiction. Damn, Sara and her visits. Y/N had been so excited for her to come, as ever since she’d moved in with Michael into their new apartment, true to the life of an adult, they had trouble finding time to meet up. Now, she was debating what she’d say during Sara’s eulogy, because if she survived this, she was sure to murder her friend. She’d seen enough true crime shows to plan the perfect murder.

               It was Michael entering the breakroom that interrupted her homicidal plans. “You alright, sweetheart? Ready to go home?”

               Y/N’s brows furrowed as she surveyed him. He was very clearly worn and disheveled, but the tender look in his eyes melted her from the inside out. “What? What time is it?”

               “It’s seven in the morning.” Michael came to the couch, leaning over and giving her a Spider-Man kiss, one hand under her chin to tilt it up. “Jack’s already here, and we did the hand-off. I’m just gonna go and change out of the scrubs, and we can hit the road.”

               “No, wait. What do you mean seven? Wh – why is your hoodie on me?” She took the warm piece of clothing and looked it over. “I’m so confused.”

               “You crashed at around three. I popped in for a quick bite and found you sleeping just like this, snoring away. Put my hoodie on you ‘cause you looked cold.” He brushed a finger down her jaw. “But let’s go home and get some proper rest.”

               She still had some lingering trembling in her hands as he took hold of them, tucking her palms together and pressing a kiss to them. But mostly it was over. She couldn’t believe she’d slept most of it through.  Y/N pressed her forehead to Michael’s chest, letting out a sob of relief. “I didn't die.”

               His frame rumbled as he laughed. “No, you didn't. Now come on, Waking Dead. We’re gonna shower, have a bite to eat, and sleep the whole day away.”

               Together, they packed up, Y/N waiting for him by the HUB as he supplied the scrubs machine with his dirty ones, this time too messy for a simple wash cycle at home, and they exited the ED hand-in-hand. Halfway out, though, she stopped by Jack, who was looking up at the board, and pulled him in a tight hug.

               “Thank you for helping me and not making too much fun of me.”

               Jack reciprocated the action, patting her back. “Don’t sweat it, kid. It’s what family’s for. You can always call me if you need to.”

               Y/N didn’t miss the fond and grateful look Michael threw at his best friend.

               With her side pressed into her boyfriend’s, they left the Pitt, greeted by the early morning sounds of Pittsburgh. It was a dark and cold early December day, but birds were chirping, people were talking and laughing, as they made their way to and fro, cars honked, and dogs barked. It was home, but not as much as the man beside her.

               “Jack’s a great friend,” Y/N said as they walked, her head leaning against his arm. Her body was tired and overworked from the ingested and absorbed caffeine and sugar. God, she hadn’t even thought of how the sugar hadn’t probably helped the situation!

               “He is. He’ll probably be my best man just because of this situation alone,” Michael chuckled, but she whipped her head up to look at him. It seemed only as her eyes widened, did he register the words that’d come out of his mouth. He pinched it shut tight and hung his head low.

               “You wanna marry me?” her voice was barely audible, any evidence of something having been said at all, the vapor from her mouth into the freezing air.

               Michael pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and gave her a sheepish sideways glance. “Down the line, yes. Is that something… You might be interested in?”

               It took her a moment to mull over the revelation. “Do you want to hear my honest thoughts on marriage?”

               “Of course.”

               Y/N sighed, holding onto Michael’s hand tighter, a slight pang of fear running through her. “Well then, in all honesty, that’s not something important to me.”

               “Oh?” He raised a brow. She took a second to study his expression, but finding nothing negative, shrugged.

               “There’s not a ring or piece of paper in this world that’s stopped people from cheating. There’s no contract that can prevent someone from hurting another if they wish to. Literally, there is nothing in this world that can stop a marriage from falling apart if it’s already on the way there. With that said, if you did ask me… I would say yes.”

               “Even with your views on marriage?”

               Y/N gave him a soft and reassuring smile. “I’m already planning on spending the rest of my life with you. And I’d say they’re not really views on marriage, but on people. But this is something I know would be important to you. If you feel it’s a step you’d be willing to take with me, whether the big white wedding, or civic hall, or a Vegas elopement, I’m down. Because, as we talked, I need you. I will always need you. A ring or no ring on my finger, I’ll always be wishing you’re next to me.” She pulled up the hands they had intertwined and kissed his knuckles. They were roughened from years of hand sanitizer and hard labor while saving lives, but they were knuckles she loved. “When you’re not around, it feels like a piece of me is missing. Which I hate; that notion we’re puzzles and need pieces to complete us. You’re a full person without me as much as I am without you. But I need you. And will always need you.”

               Michael’s throat worked as he slightly shook his head. “I don’t want to rope you into something you don’t want.”

               “You wouldn’t be.” She stopped them in the middle of the street, taking his cheeks in her gloved hands and brushing her thumbs along the bottom of his eyes. “I want you, married and old and decrepit as we swing in our rocking chairs, and I want you now – with a bit more pep in our steps and a slight lean towards idiotic decisions. Besides,” her lips twitched in a smile. “You know I love me some shiny jewelry.”

               When he finally laughed, his hands settling on her hips, Y/N’s grin widened.

               “I love you, you know that?” Michael looked at her with such warmth in his brown eyes, it broke her heart when a tear rolled down. She brushed it away with a gentle touch. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you by my side, but I’m gonna keep a hold of you and never let go.”

               “I’ll keep you to your word then.”

               “Please do.” The kiss he gave her was so full of love, her knees buckled.

               “Now come on.” Y/N pulled him along the road and up the threshold of their apartment complex. “Before I rip your clothes off right here and now, and give the neighbors a show.”

               His laughter was her favorite sound in the world.

               Together, they entered the place they called their home. Even after four months of sharing a space, there were still boxes left unpacked. Cozy and a bit messy, but theirs. For example, all of Michael’s medical books and journals sat on shelves, but not alphabetized like he used to have it, because now in between those, there were all of Y/N’s books.

               Or in the bathroom, as they shared a shower, bottles of different kinds of shampoo and conditioners littered on the hanging shelves, and the scent of peppermint and peach wafted through the place as they helped wash the night off one another.

            Or their kitchen as they made a quick batch of ramen and ate together on mismatched plates with different sets of cutlery, watching how the sun rose to shine over the city.

               Empty bowls were left in the sink, a problem for the rested versions of themselves, as they plopped under the sheets, bodies naked and in desperate need to feel the other, seeking as much contact as possible. There was nothing sexual, not this time around. That would come after they’d slept. Right in that moment, they just needed to know the other was there without any sort of worldly restrictions.     

               When Y/N fell asleep, her head on Michael’s chest, she fell asleep not knowing of the ring tucked away in his bedside table. But when she found it as she searched for some spare batteries for their TV remote, a couple of weeks later, she said yes before he could even ask. She said yes before he even knew she knew. But she’d wait until he would. She tucked the little velvet box back where she’d found it and closed the drawer with a soft click. She’d wait until he was ready, even if it took him a few years.

               Because he needed her.

               And she needed him. And she didn’t mind waiting.

               And a life spent together… well, what more could she want?

___________________________________________________

A/N: had to celebrate the release of the season 2 trailer. our fave sad boi is back, but I needed him a bit happier, so here you all go :) I truly hope the wait was worth it. I think this might be my favourite chapter so far of these to, and I really enjoyed writing it, even though it took me ages :D constructive criticism is always appreciated :)

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