#Dr. Robby is Daddy and I won't take any arguments

[wisps-writes-fic]

Read on Ao3 | Masterlist

Pairing: Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Fem OC

Summary: Evelyn knew he was a doctor, of course. Professions had come up briefly in the weeks they spent tangled up together. That didn't mean it didn't come as a shock when he was the attending seeing to her care after she was shot at Pittfest.

CW: Age gap (~20 yrs), Angst, Soft-dom Robby, Praise kink, Smut in later chapter

AN: This was written in a couple hours and I also know nothing about medicine. If this sucks, I'm sorry.

Chapter I

Evelyn

“This really isn’t necessary, is it? The person I was with—Other people—” 

“Evelyn, right?” She nodded, grimacing. In the grand total of three minutes she’d spoken with Dr. McKay, the woman had proved herself to be the no nonsense type. Something Evelyn could respect, if the bullet wound in her arm wasn’t putting her in the ugliest mood of her life, painkillers be damned. She was never going to a festival again. “Your friend is in the OR with the best care she’ll get. You might not need surgery, but if I don’t stitch and dress this properly this you will undoubtedly be looking at a nasty infection.”

“Stubborn patient here, Dr. McKay?” The familiar voice registered before the man carrying it came past the half-drawn curtain and into her field of vision. Startled her enough to break through the rising anxiety regarding her roommate’s condition.

“Not to worry,” he continued. “Intake has slowed and the worst is behind us. It’s—” He froze, a wariness taking over his handsome features. She watched him carefully as he took in the damage done, resisting the urge to pull down her torn sleeve to cover the dried blood and sloppy dressing one of the intake nurses had applied to stop the worst of the bleeding until she could be seen more formally. “Through and through?” he asked after clearing his throat.

“Evelyn Sinclair. Twenty-six Came in with a gunshot wound to the arm. Nothing vital hit. We were just getting to the cleaning and stitching. Evelyn, this is one of our attending physicians, Dr. Robinivitch,” McKay provided, obviously marking the lingering tension despite her attending’s remarkable talent to mask what might leave him shaken. He clearly wasn’t in any more of a hurry than Evelyn was to explain that tension.

“Go wrap up what you need to, McKay. I’ll finish things here.”

She raised a brow, but didn’t argue, no doubt in a hurry to finish her business and get back to the son Evelyn had overheard another team member mention at one point. She’d always been that way, gathering information how she could, storing background insight for whenever she may need it in the future. 

Her hope this time was that she’d never return to this particular ER. Never see the doctor eyeing her so carefully as he drew the curtain completely closed. Go home, drink tonight away, and shove down everything she thought she’d spent the past four years healing. Forget the hurt of him leaving after those two wonderful weeks she’d spent in his arms, away from her cruel reality.

No strings, they’d promised.

What a load of bullshit.

“Robby.” His name was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, the tender inflection telling him everything she couldn’t say out loud. She hated that weakness.

Just the bloodloss. Nothing more. You went your separate ways years ago. You’re over him. He’s just an old summer fling.

“Let’s get you stitched up, Evelyn. Discharge shouldn’t be far behind.” Every action was careful, precise. She had to look away for most of it, dizzy at the sight of the wound and a needle pulling through it even with the numbing agent to mask the feeling of it. “There,” he finally said, securing the end of the guaze. “We’ll get you something for the pain, then you should be set.”

“I can’t leave.” He cocked his head ever so slightly. “Please, my friend was taken up to surgery.” Her throat tightened, fear finally overtaking the adrenaline. “Abigail Hunt. I need to know—” 

His hands were on her just like that, one cradling the back of her neck while the other anchored itself at her right hip. On her feet now, she had her nose firmly pressed to his scrubs, taking in the strange blend of blood and his scent. “Deep breaths. Good girl, again.”

She shuttered, sinking further into his hold even as her fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt. It took several moments longer to push past that tightness, her worries only slightly mellowed. “I can’t go home. I need to know.”

“There’s a waiting room,” he murmured, “if you’re discharged before she can take visitors. Or if you choose to go home we can call—”

“No,” she snapped, shrugging back out of his hold where his touch couldn’t muddle her thoughts and break her resistance. “I can’t leave her.”

She saw it coming in the flash of his eyes—the knit of his brows and crossing of his arms. But the last thing she needed right now was a lecture on traumatic events and taking care of herself. They may have only had a few weeks together, but she knew Robby. Knew how quickly she could fall into that quiet control he wielded with her, especially when she was high strung. 

“I’m staying.”

Finally, he gave a short nod. “Someone will be in shortly with your paperwork.” A flick of the curtain open and shut and he was gone. ~~~ Dr. Robby

She was in his workplace. A woman who had haunted his thoughts in the months following their goodbye. A woman who had left a permanent mark on him he’d spent the past several years trying to get rid of. A woman who was twenty years younger than him and deserved a relationship with someone who didn’t carry his baggage.

He’d told himself he could keep things professional. Even after sending McKay out of the room. But she’d broken down, bared her fears for her friend in a few short words. Holding Evelyn in his arms again, he never wanted to let her go.

But that bridge had long since burned.