#dr. michael robinavitch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackwidownat2814 · 15 hours ago

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This is like a Spanish telenovela, in the best way, and I am so invested.

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

description: The shift had been ordinary. Until it wasn't. Until her. She shouldn’t be here. Not in his hospital. Not holding a boy whose face hits him like a slap. In the space of a heartbeat, Michael is no longer a doctor. He’s a ghost in his own body, watching his past rewrite itself in real time.

pairing: dr. michael robinavitch x female ob/gyn attending! reader

genre: hidden pregnancy…maybe? age gap (michael late 40s, reader mid 30s), female reader.

notes: i love this so much it’s insane

word count: 2.9 k

extra: moodboard | playlist | ☆:**:. 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 .:**:.☆ (ko-fi)

Feel free to #𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 (◕‿◕✿) *:･ﾟ✧ if you have any scenarios in mind! I might not write everything but I’ll respond to everyone.

series masterlist: 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

ten years ago…

The city was still asleep when he closed the door behind him.

No one saw him leave—not the landlord, not the neighbor who always smoked on her balcony, not the woman he loved, still asleep down the hall with the bedroom door cracked open just enough for the light to spill in.

Robby stood in that silence for a long minute, the chill from the hallway seeping into his bones like penance. Then he turned the key in the lock and walked away.

The air outside was the kind that burned in your lungs.

Pittsburgh was cold in the fall, but this was the kind of cold that made everything sharper—clearer. Unforgiving.

His bag was slung over his shoulder, his steps steady but slow, like maybe the weight of what he was doing hadn’t settled in yet. Or maybe it had, and he was just trying not to feel it.

He didn’t take a cab. He walked the ten blocks to the station with his hands in his pockets and his jaw clenched tight.

The city was gray and heavy, the sky the color of steel, and every street corner felt like it might shout her name back at him if he let his mind wander too far.

He had written her a note. It was short. Too short.

Something about needing to go. About not being who she thought he was. About not being enough.

He hadn't signed it.

He told himself it was better this way. Cleaner. Less to untangle.

She wouldn’t have to look him in the eye and see the mess of a man too afraid to stay. She wouldn’t have to see him crack apart under the weight of what he couldn’t say: I love you, but I don’t know how to deserve you.

Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?

He loved her. God, he loved her so much it made everything inside him ache. But love wasn’t always enough, and he was already unraveling—already halfway gone in ways that scared him.

She had plans. She had brightness. She talked about future things like they were inevitable—like there was a place in them carved out for him. Like he belonged.

Michael didn’t know how to belong.

And she—she kissed him like she believed he’d always come back.

He left like he knew he never would.

He remembered the way she’d pulled him close the night before, bare legs around his hips, her breath soft and warm against his skin. She kissed him like the world was still safe.

Like it was forever. Like it was just the two of them in that tiny apartment and the future didn’t scare her. She whispered something against his collarbone—something like don’t go far, something like see you in the morning—and he’d shut his eyes so tight it hurt.

She kissed him like she believed in him. And it broke something in him, because he didn’t.

After, she curled up against him and fell asleep fast, trusting him to stay.

He spent the whole night awake beside her.

Watching the ceiling. Watching her chest rise and fall. Memorizing the shape of her hand resting on his chest like she was anchoring him to something good. Something real.

And then, right before the sun came up, he kissed her on the forehead, like that could make up for everything he didn’t have the courage to say. He got up without a sound, packed only what he needed, left the note on the kitchen counter where she’d find it after coffee.

At the station, he stood on the platform with a coffee in one hand and guilt in the other. The train was delayed. Of course it was. The universe was cruel like that.

He didn’t cry. Not really. But his chest hurt in that splintered, hollow way grief lives in.

If she had woken up…

If she had asked him to stay…

He didn’t know what he would’ve done.

But she didn’t. And he left. He let the train carry him away from the only thing that had ever felt like home, trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

He never turned around.

And he never saw the light flick on in the apartment just moments after the train pulled away.

He never saw her wake up, heart hammering, reaching for the empty space beside her.

He didn’t see the light flick on in the apartment just minutes after the train pulled away.

Didn’t see her reach across the bed for him, only to find cold sheets and silence.

Didn’t see her walk barefoot into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes, only to stop short at the note waiting for her like a knife on the counter.

She read it once. Then again. And again, like maybe the words would change if she stared long enough.

They didn’t.

And the life she thought she was building—the one she’d let herself believe in, with the man she’d trusted enough to love without hesitation—cracked down the middle, quiet and sharp.

There was no warning. No fight. No goodbye. Just an empty bed, and a note, and the sound of something breaking that she couldn’t name.

He didn’t know what she looked like in that moment.

Didn’t know the way she slid to the floor, back to the counter, note crumpled in her hand, trying to breathe around the hollowed-out space where he used to be.

He didn’t see her cry.

All he knew was that he had left.

And he hated himself for it.

five years later…

Michael hadn’t meant to come.

He told himself it was just dinner. Just a few familiar faces. Just something to fill the silence that had started to feel like its own kind of punishment.

It wasn’t nostalgia, not exactly. Nostalgia required sweetness, and he’d scraped most of that out of himself years ago.

But the invitation had come anyway—some old friend from undergrad, or med school, or residency, someone he hadn’t seen in years but still had enough of his email to keep him tethered.

“Come by if you’re in town,” it said. “It’s been forever.”

It had been forever.

And Michael—idiot that he was—had found himself driving across the city through the soft December dusk, half hoping the offer had expired by the time he arrived.

Pennsylvania never changed much. It was gray and clumsy in the winter, still bitter enough to make your bones ache if you didn’t move fast enough. The streets were slick with slush. The streetlights glowed gold on the pavement. Somewhere in the distance, carolers sang just off-key.

But the house? The house was warm.

Not just in the literal sense—with its firelight flickering behind windows, the sharp glow of a chandelier, the steam rising from pots in the kitchen—but warm in the way that made your chest hurt.

Laughter spilled from the porch. Music floated through the cracks in the windows. He could see the silhouettes of coats being shrugged off, cheeks kissed, wine poured.

He parked across the street and left the engine running.

He told himself he just needed a minute. Just a minute.

And then—he saw her.

Through the window. Like a movie he had no right to watch.

She was wearing soft pink, not scrubs but something casual and delicate, like the inside of a seashell. Her hair was up. A few strands curled against her neck, the way they used to when she rushed from the shower and didn’t have time to dry it all the way.

She looked older—but in the kind of way that hurt, because it meant time had passed without him. Because it meant she had kept living while he had buried himself alive.

She was talking to someone, laughing. There was a wine glass in her hand. A freckle he remembered just barely visible near her collarbone. When she smiled—God, when she smiled—it twisted something in his ribs.

He should’ve left. Should’ve never come.

But instead, he sat there, drowning in it.

In her.

It had been five years.

Five years since he left.

Five years since she kissed him like she believed he’d come back.

And he had left like he knew he never would.

That last night haunted him. The way she had wrapped herself around him like she was memorizing him. The softness of her lips, trembling just slightly. The way her hands had lingered against his back, as if she could keep him there by sheer will.

She had whispered, “See you in the morning,” into the curve of his neck, her voice barely audible, casual like it meant nothing at all.

And he had kissed her like he believed he could make that true.

But it was like she knew what was coming, on some deeper level. Like her body had braced for it before her mind could catch up.

There was no morning for them. Not after that.

No safety. No stability. No staying.

He had packed too fast. Left without enough. Told himself it was better this way—for her, for them. That she deserved more than someone already half-destroyed.

It hadn’t mattered. It had broken her anyway.

It had broken him.

He looked away from the window, throat tight. A dog barked somewhere nearby. He couldn’t breathe.

Michael reached for the door handle.

Just do it, he told himself. Go in. Say hello. Apologize. Pretend to be someone who deserved to walk through that door.

But then he looked up again—just as she turned, laughed, leaned against the counter like she belonged there—and everything in him stalled.

Because she did belong there.

She looked happy. Or at least… okay. Stable. Surrounded by light and warmth and people who hadn’t vanished when things got hard. What right did he have to walk back in now, five years too late?

None. Absolutely none.

He dropped his hand from the door.

And drove away.

He didn’t see her turn back toward the living room.

Didn’t see the small boy—curly-haired, pajama-clad—pad over and raise his arms.

Didn’t see her scoop him up and nuzzle her nose into his cheek like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

Didn’t see the boy giggle, and press his hand to her face, and whisper something that made her laugh even harder.

He didn’t see any of it.

All he saw was her silhouette, soft and golden, disappearing behind curtains as he turned the corner and left her behind again.

He told himself it was better this way. Cleaner. Safer.

He told himself she had moved on. That she didn’t need him. That he didn’t need her.

But as the city lights blurred past his windshield, as the ache in his chest settled deeper, more permanent—

Michael knew he was still lying.

To her. To himself. And to whatever part of him that still woke up some nights thinking she was there.

present day…

There was a rhythm to emergency.

You breathed in crisis. Bled urgency. Learned to function in the eye of the storm.

And Dr. Robby had made a home in the storm.

That morning had been like any other. Fast. Messy. Loud.

A cardiac arrest. A teen with a bullet in his shoulder. An elderly woman with a stroke mid-grocery run. The ER moved like it always did: fast and fractured.

Until it didn’t.

Until everything stopped.

The moment he heard her voice.

“Move! He’s crashing—give me the crash cart, and get respiratory down here, now!”

He froze mid-step, the trauma form in his hand suddenly weightless.

That voice. Familiar. Unshakable.

He turned toward the chaos at trauma bay two—and there she was.

Pink salmon scrubs stained with something dark. Her hair half pulled back, half falling out. Her hands fluttering between the boy on the gurney and the nurse trying to get a BP cuff on.

And her eyes—God, her eyes. Were wild, terrified.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Not in this city. Not in this hospital. Not on this day.

She was yelling something about sats. Chest pain. A fall.

“He got hit—he was riding to school and some jackass blew through the stop sign—he wasn’t moving, he was cyanotic, I couldn’t find a pulse—so I just started compressions, I didn’t wait for the ambulance—”

Her voice cracked. “I was right next to him and I didn’t react fast enough, fuck—I should’ve seen it coming, I should’ve grabbed him—”

Someone—Whittaker, already gowned up—stepped in beside her. “We’ve got him now. You have to step back, let us work.”

“He’s my son.”

The words cracked something in him.

The boy. Robby saw him clearly now. Pale. Unconscious. A small bruise blooming across his temple. Dark lashes stuck together from oxygen tubing, blood, and sweat.

He couldn’t look away.

Because something inside him twisted hard—like recognition, like guilt, like some ancient ache that had been sleeping for ten years and woke up screaming.

The boy looked like her. Same cheekbones. Same curve of the jaw. Even the soft dip in his left cheek, like it had been sculpted by memory. But the eyes—

They were closed now, but when they’d fluttered open briefly under the lights—

Brown.

Not hazel, not green. Not hers.

His.

It was a stupid thing to fixate on, maybe. But in that split-second, his brain flooded with it. The timeline. The math. Ten years since he left. The kid—what, eight? Nine?

The breath Robby took didn’t make it to his lungs. It caught somewhere deep in his chest, behind his ribs, sharp and sudden like broken glass.

He took a step back without realizing it, hand coming up like he might need to steady himself on something, anything. The edge of the trauma board. The counter. The wall.

He felt the air shift beside him before he heard the voice.

Dana.

She didn’t say anything right away. Just appeared at his side like she always did when things went sideways—silent, sharp, steady. Her eyes flicked from the boy to Robby’s face and back again.

“You okay?” she asked quietly, too low for anyone else to hear.

Robby didn’t answer.

Didn’t know how to.

Because his mind was spiraling now. Backward. Forward. In every direction at once.

She hadn’t seen him yet. She didn’t know he was there. But that didn’t stop the crash. The sound of her voice cracked through him like a whip, and now this—this kid, with her face and his eyes—it was too much.

“I think—” he tried, then stopped. Swallowed hard.

Dana gently guided him toward the side wall, just out of the direct chaos. “Just breathe for a second. I’ve got it. I’ve got eyes on the board.”

“I need—” he started again, but his throat closed up.

“Hey,” she said, softer now. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. It was anything but.

Because standing there, watching that boy fight for breath, watching her fight like hell to keep him here, Robby felt everything he had buried start to claw its way to the surface.

The weight of the note he left.

The sound of the train pulling away.

The memory of her asleep, the light spilling into the room, her hand on his chest like she was anchoring him.

He’d thought that version of himself was dead. Buried under work and years and choices he couldn’t take back.

But now—now it was like the past had ripped itself open and demanded he look.

The room blurred for a second. He blinked hard. Tried to focus.

He heard her voice again, still panicked.

“Why the hell aren’t we intubating?! He needs to be intubated!”

Whittaker again, calm and unmoved. “He’s stable enough to scan. You can come with us if you stay out of the way.”

A voice behind his left shoulder now—one of the paramedics.

“She brought him in herself. Collapsed on the street. She didn’t wait for the ambulance—drove like a maniac to get him here. Said she didn’t trust the timing.”

He still hadn’t moved.

The whole world had narrowed to the sound of her breath, the strain in her voice, the way her hand shook as she pushed hair from the boy’s forehead.

Then—quiet. A new voice. Softer. Dana again, back in the room now.

“He’s going to be okay. He’s stable. We’ve got him.”

She exhaled for the first time.

Just once. Then pressed a hand to her chest like she needed to physically hold herself together.

And that’s when someone said her name.

Soft. Familiar.

The sound of it—her name—snapped Robby out of whatever fog he’d been standing in.

That was all it took.

He moved.

Through the flurry of techs and doctors. Past Mohan adjusting the IV, past Whittaker calling out a page to peds. His footsteps were too loud, or maybe the whole room had just gone silent when he stepped in.

She turned at the sound of her name.

And saw him.

For the first time in ten years.

The recognition hit like a punch. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just… undeniable.

Her face went still.

Not surprised. Not angry.

Just raw.

As if she’d been bracing for this moment for years without knowing it.

He opened his mouth. Didn’t even know what he was going to say.

All that came out was her name.

And everything else fell away.

next chapter ↠

#Series: I Look In People's Windows #Dr. Michael Robinavitch #Dr. Robby #Dr. Robby x you #Dr. Robby x reader #Dr. Robby x female reader #Dr. Robby angst #Dr. Robby fanfiction #The Pitt fanfiction

942 notes · View notes

science-hoes · 2 months ago

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Maroon

Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, age gap, unprotected sex

Description: Robby makes sure the reader knows her worth after being stood up on a date.

Michael Robinavitch Masterlist

—

You knew you looked good. Fuck, you had spent three hours getting ready. Exfoliating your entire body to be smoother than marble. Shaving your legs and pelvic area. Massaging lotion deep into your skin. Blow-dried hair and flawless makeup. And your outfit. A long, red, satin dress that hung off your shoulders, snatched around your waist, and a slit that showcased your left upper thigh.

You walked into the Pitt, the clicking of your black heels announcing your presence. Every head, single and taken, craned to watch you pass by. The path up to the nurses' station might as well have been a catwalk. When Dana turned around, she let out a surprised laugh.

“Wow! I didn’t know you owned any clothes besides scrubs.” She teased.

You smiled and leaned against the counter. “To be fair, this is probably the only nice outfit I have.” You admitted.

Dana glanced around the room, and just about every person, staff and patients alike, were trying to sneak glances at you. “Well, you’ve certainly got everyone’s attention. Why are you all dressed up?” She asked.

You rubbed your hands together, trying to soothe yourself, swallowing hard before you spoke to mask any insecurities in your voice. “I had a date. Got stood up.” You replied.

Dana furrowed her brow when she saw your nose scrunch at the early sting of tears. “Stood up? Does he know you look like this?” She waved her hands down your body as if she were presenting you to an audience.

You felt a smile reach your lips again and giggled slightly. “I mean, he had only seen me in scrubs.” You answered.

Dana leaned in, suspicion in her eyes. “Was it someone from the Pitt?” She whispered.

You looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, but you still shielded your lips when you mouthed the name “Matteo.”

She pulled her lips into a thin line and nodded. “Not surprised. Good nurse, but still a kid.” She said.

You shrugged, shoulders pulling closer to your frame to minimize yourself. “We’re the same age. I just thought he was a little more serious than that.” You confessed.

Your work mom pointed her index finger at you. “What you need is a man. Not some kid. Someone older.” She advised.

A huff of air passed your lips, and you stood up straight again. “Trust me, I’ve been trying.” You glanced around before leaning in again. “A certain stick-in-the-mud won’t hold a conversation longer than thirty seconds if it’s not about a patient.”

Dana chuckled. “Too bad he’s already gone home for the night. Otherwise, I think you’d have him wrapped around your finger if he saw how you looked right now.” She mused.

You smiled at the thought and compliment. “I’ve kinda given up on that. It’s out of my reach. Hence, my date tonight.”

“Well, never say never. Now why are you here instead of at a bar picking up hot men?” She asked.

You looked towards the doctor’s lounge. “I left my purse here. Has my driver’s license and everything. Just glad I didn’t get pulled over.” You replied.

She smiled and gave you a ‘get outta here’ nod of her head. “Get your stuff and go have some fun. Don’t let a stupid boy ruin your night. But not too much fun because I don’t want to see your body search on the evening news.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll probably just go to Fenian’s across the street.” You agreed before heading toward the doctor’s lounge.

As you opened the door, you bumped into someone exiting the lounge. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The familiar voice said. Dr. Robby towered over you, still not looking down, distracted by the last few minutes of his shift. “This is a doctor's lounge. We ask that patients and families-“

“Doctor Robby.” You said, trying to get him to actually look down at you.

And boy, when he finally did. Robby’s breath hitched once he realized it was you. He had already pinned you as a patient’s girlfriend, probably in the ER after your boyfriend had an allergic reaction at a fancy restaurant.

“Oh.” Was all he could say.

His eyes scanned your body, lingering a little too long at your exposed cleavage. You fiddled with the delicate bracelet around your wrist out of nervousness and let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, I just left my purse here.” You said.

Without a word, Robby held the door open for you, and you went inside. You grabbed your purse, slung it over your shoulder, and exited the room again. “Thank you.” You added before heading towards the entrance of the Pitt.

Robby’s eyes were locked on your calves as you strutted away in those black heels. He felt winded like he had fallen flat on his back and had the air knocked out of his lungs. Slowly, he walked up to the nurses’ station, not taking his eyes off you until you exited the building.

Meanwhile, Dana had been watching the entire interaction. Amused, she leaned back in her chair. “I thought you went home.” She said.

Robby rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tic. “Uh, no. Not yet.” He answered.

“You look like you’ve seen an angel.” She teased.

He leaned against the high counter and shook his head. “No, I just didn’t recognize her.” He replied.

Dana rolled her eyes. “Come on, Robby. Productivity dropped fifty percent the moment she walked in the door. You can admit that she looked good.” She said.

He looked to Dana like admitting it out loud would be an unforgivable sin. It would verify that he had entertained the idea of dragging you to an on-call room with him or bringing you coffee at the beginning of your shift. “She’s half my age. I could be her father.” He replied.

Dana shrugged. “A young father.” She amended.

Robby rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t shake the image of you walking away. Hair bouncing on your back with every step, the sway of your hips. “Why was she all dressed up?” He asked.

“She had a date and got stood up. Can you believe that?” She answered.

No. He really couldn’t believe that. How does someone as intelligent as you, looking like a modern-day goddess, get stood up? But he said nothing to show his hand.

“I’m about to head out. Anything you need before I leave?” He asked instead, drumming his hands on the high counter.

Dana gave him a skeptical look. “No. Go on, get out of here before night shift drags you into a room.” She replied. And as Robby began to walk away, he heard Dana add, “She’s at Fenian’s.”

Fenian’s. The bar across from the hospital. Robby began to consider it. Showing up after his shift in scrubs that had probably come in contact with every possible bodily fluid that day. His eyes were sunken in from dehydration and sleep deprivation. All while you looked like a pin-up poster girl. And you probably had men on either side of you now, each trying to best the other to win your affections.

His mind ran on like that until he found himself standing at the entrance of the bar, the neon blue ‘OPEN’ sign shining bright in his eyes. He turned to leave, shaking his head in disbelief that he had even walked to the bar. Until he saw you through the window. Sitting alone at the counter. Legs delicately crossed, posture impeccable. You sipped on what looked like vodka and club soda, eyes peering up at the Steelers game on the TV. You looked like an angel in the low light of the bar.

Robby didn’t realize he had walked in through the door until a bell signaled that he entered. The bartender looked up and smiled. “Hey, Robby. What can I get ya?” She asked.

You didn’t turn around, eyes focused on the game. You hadn’t even considered that it was your Robby who walked in. “Shot of Lalo, please.” He answered.

His voice made your heart jump to your throat. You turned your head, hair tossing naturally over your shoulder. Robby smiled, but it was a small one. Slowly, he moved to sit at the barstool next to you, back leaning against the bar to watch a different game on the TV behind you.

“Can’t stay away from the hospital for too long, huh?” He said, trying to begin a lighthearted conversation.

You studied the way he sat next to you, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted up to watch the game. You smiled slightly. “I was supposed to have a date.” You answered, almost embarrassed.

“Didn’t show up?”

“No. He even had the day off, too.”

Robby finally glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your posture regressed to a slouch, and you stared blankly at your fizzing cup on the bar. A strange twist in his chest arose at the pitiful sight. He turned slightly to face you, leaning an elbow on the counter.

“You deserve better than that.” He affirmed.

You huffed at his words and took a sip of your drink. “I guess he really is more interested in Javadi.” You said.

Robby raised an eyebrow. “Javadi? You mean you were supposed to go on a date with Matteo?”

Your silent nod sent a vile jolt of jealousy through his body. One that he hadn’t expected. He downed his shot of tequila that he had let sit on the bar. The burn in his throat distracted him from the nausea pooling in his stomach at the thought of you and Matteo. Someone much younger than him. Better looking than him.

“Maybe it’s a good thing. I’m looking to settle down, and he doesn’t seem like he’s in that headspace.” You finally added.

Robby raised a finger to the bartender, who poured another shot for him. “Yeah, I don’t think he is.” He confirmed.

You glanced up at him as he threw back the second shot. It hurt to hear the truth confirmed, even if you already knew. But then Dana’s words seemed to creep into your mind.

“Dana said I need someone older.” You found yourself admitting.

Robby met your gaze again, feeling a whisper of warmth in his cheeks, unsure if it was the tequila or your words. “Older.” He repeated, though not as a question.

You nodded and turned to face him on your barstool. The slit in your shimmering red dress widened to reveal even more of your thigh, dangerously close to your hip. Robby couldn’t help himself from looking, and you noticed the way his eyes politely flicked back up to yours with a swiftness.

“Someone who knows what he wants. Knows how to take care of me.” You tested the waters, seeing if Robby would take the bait.

He remained guarded, but his eyes were riveted on your thickly glossed lips. “Take care of you.” He mumbled to himself like an oath.

You shrugged. “Or at least let me take care of him.” You added, voice laced with sultry.

Robby’s dark chocolate eyes snapped up, a twinkle of understanding within them. Your lips curved into a small smile, and you leaned in closer, your cleavage deepening from the change in position. “Do you know of anyone like that?” You asked softly, feigning innocence.

You were close enough now to smell the strong aroma of Lalo on his breath, and he was intoxicated by the sweet scent of your perfume. “I-“ He began to stutter, the pitch of his voice faltering. “You’ve been drinking. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He said as firmly as he was able to.

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to your drink. “That’s Sprite.” You deadpanned. “I’m sober. Are you?”

Robby chuckled at the idea that two shots of tequila would make him feel anything. “Absolutely.” He answered.

Your bare knee brushed against his, leaning in impossibly close now. “Then take me home.” You whispered.

Robby’s hands trembled as he ran one through his thinning dark hair. “I don’t do hookups. I can’t do casual. I can only handle something real.” He warned. “I know you’re upset about Matteo not showing-”

“Robby.” You cut him off. “I never wanted him. I’ve always wanted you.”

The air hung heavy between the two of you. Your doe eyes were making him crumble. “You want me?” He questioned. Now he was concerned that two shots of tequila did affect him.

You rose to your feet, standing in between his spread legs now, still craning your neck up at him. The distance between your lips was minuscule, and for the first time, you placed your hands on his body, resting them on his chest. “I want you. Take me home.” You reaffirmed.

—-

The door to Robby’s house slammed shut after he pulled you through the threshold. He pinned you against it, hands resting on the wood on either side of your head. His head lowered so that your noses brushed, but he wouldn’t go any farther than that.

Your hands found rest on his chest again, flush against the fabric of his navy hoodie. “Are you gonna kiss me, Robby?” You asked.

Robby’s smile pulled to one side of his face as he studied the beautiful features of your face. “My name is Michael.” He whispered and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “Only here.” A kiss on your cheek. “Only for you.” A kiss on your jaw.

Your breath staggered at the sensation of his beard dragging across your soft skin. “Michael.” You tested the name on your lips. It felt intimate. It felt natural.

Robby grinned, and his teeth dragged across your skin as he finally made his way to your lips. Your mouth opened immediately to welcome his, slipping your tongue across his bottom lip. He answered with a quiet moan and deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of your head and pulling you closer. Your arms draped around his neck, pushing your entire body against his. You both savored the simplicity of kissing, learning each other’s mouths, familiarizing yourselves with the closeness of your souls for the first time. His hand that wasn’t rooted in your hair explored the curves of your waist and back, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it wandered.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away first but stayed close with his nose nuzzling against yours. “I’m gonna take care of you tonight. The way you deserve.” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. “But I have some ground rules, okay?”

You nodded, gently scratching his beard with your fingertips. “Okay.” You agreed.

“Number one. We can’t tell anyone at work. I don’t want anyone knowing what happens between us at home. And more importantly, I don’t want anyone questioning your judgement as a doctor because I’ve got a soft spot for you. Okay?” He pressed a kiss to your cheek when he finished.

You closed your eyes and nodded again. “Okay.”

“Number two. You’ll always communicate what you’re feeling. What you need, what you aren’t ready for. I’ll do the same.” Another kiss on your temple.

Another nod. “Okay.”

“And number three. Look at me, baby girl.” He tilted your chin up with a hooked finger. “Please don’t run when you see the skeletons in the closet.”

Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones that glimmered in the low light of his living room. For the first time since he brought you home, he looked timid. Like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Like he was terrified of fracturing the fresh connection you both made tonight.

A final nod, and you cradled his face in your hands. “I promise I won’t run.”

And with one more kiss on the lips, smiles pressed against each other, Robby led you to his bedroom. You never let yourself imagine what his home looked like, let alone his bedroom. But it was neat and simple. No decoration aside from medical journal papers stacked high on every flat surface.

He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled you into his lap. His lips trailed across your bare shoulder, leaving gentle kisses as his fingers delicately slid the straps of your dress down. You shivered at the light touches and pulled at his hoodie. Instead of taking it off, your silent wish, he stopped kissing your body and tilted his head up at you.

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” He demanded in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Your cheeks flushed at the commandment, and suddenly you felt powerless. “I want to feel your skin.” You begged pathetically.

Robby held your gaze as he shrugged off his hoodie, then pulled his scrub top and undershirt over his head, jostling his hair a bit. Your eyes studied his upper body. Freckles dusted his broad shoulders. His abdominal muscles were toned, but not excessively so. A couple of scars were cemented near his ribcage from hostile patient encounters. A glitter of gold lured your eyes to his sternum.

A smile melted on your face. “The Star of David.” You mumbled.

Robby tilted his head slightly. “Yeah?” He affirmed, unsure of why his pendant captivated you.

You brushed your fingertips across the metal, cool from the air. Your hands lifted the Star from his chest, inspecting it gingerly. Robby wouldn’t admit it, but in that moment, he felt like a dog on a leash from the gentle tug of his chain in your hands. And he loved it.

“I’ve always wondered what it was.” You mused to yourself. “You wear it every day.”

Robby nodded, an unconscious smile gracing his lips. “My savta gave it to me. I never take it off.” He confirmed.

“Softa?” You were unsure of the word.

“Savta.” He repeated with the utmost patience. “It means ‘grandmother’ in Hebrew.”

You smiled and nodded as the first branch into his past formed between you. “Savta.” You repeated correctly this time. “When did she give it to you?”

Robby brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, thinking for a moment. “When I was about six or seven.” He answered. “It’s older than you.” He added with a wink, but couldn’t hold back his grin.

You giggled and threw your arms around his shoulders. And he laughed. Not like the sarcastic ones you heard at work when he was exasperated, but one full of heartfelt joy. The sound was so beautiful that it nearly brought tears to your eyes. His mouth found yours again, and you fell back into the waltz of lips.

His fingers grasped the zipper of your dress and lazily pulled it down, unsheathing your upper body from the silky fabric. Your chest became exposed to the frigid air of his home, and your skin tightened at the temperature.

Robby pulled away to analyze your newly exposed skin. Your breasts hung perfectly from your chest, and his absent-minded hand cupped one of them, massaging gently.

“So beautiful.” He murmured as his lips returned to your upper body, slowly moving his way down.

His mouth latched onto one of your nipples, pulling back with suction until a loud smack from his lips filled the air as your breast recoiled into place. You moaned at the sensation, digging your fingers into his scalp. He continued to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Suck and smack. Then, he dragged his tongue across your nipple, rough tastebuds scraping smoothly against it. While he worked on one with his mouth, he used his fingers to tweak and tug at the other. You let out a squeal of delight, and Robby couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That feel good?” He asked before latching onto your breast again.

You shivered at intense pressure on your breasts. “Feels so good.” You mumbled.

Just when you thought the sensation had maxed out, the unmistakable hardness of teeth grazed across your nipples, and an involuntary scream left your vocal cords. The mix of pain and pleasure wasn’t new to you, but it had never felt this good. Robby looked up to you with those innocent brown eyes, teeth still clenched around your sensitive bud. With his gaze locked on yours, he relieved the pressure of his teeth, your skin snapping back to its configuration.

“Michael!” You shrieked, and your shrillness only encouraged him to follow suit for the other nipple.

Surely, by now, your fingernails had dug their graves within his scalp. But Robby relished the feeling of your oversensitivity inflicting pain of his own. With confidence, he trailed his hand down your waist, your hip, and to the slit in your dress. The very opening that taunted him at the bar, daring him to brush against your thigh in public. But when his fingers reached up, up, up to your hip line, he froze.

You furrowed your brow at the halt in momentum, and you looked to his face. He stared back at you, face suddenly unreadable.

“You don’t-” He began, but he paused to take in a deep breath. “You don’t have anything on under the dress?”

You studied his face, trying to understand what his angle was. Of course, you weren’t wearing panties. It was a silk dress, and any kind of…oh.

Oh.

You finally felt like you had the high ground again. An involuntary smirk found its way to your lips. “No.” You answered innocently.

Robby’s chest puffed out, and a primal, vicious jealousy coarsed through his veins for the second time tonight. The very notion that you went garmentless for your date with Matteo reinforced his mission to treat you better than that boyish nurse would have.

“You only do that for me from now on. You understand?” He growled in your ear.

The dominance made your spine feel weak, and you nodded. “Yeah.” You breathed.

Robby fisted your hair, forcing your face to meet his eyes. The same ones you often saw at work when he was reaching his maximum level of fury. “You can answer better than that.” He said.

Fuck, he was sexy when he was pissed. “Yes, sir.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s what I thought.” He relented, finally letting his fingers move under your dress again.

Rough, calloused pads brushed against your pelvis, moving down until they slipped against your weeping pussy. The sound that fell from Robby’s lips was unholy but heavenly as he collected your wetness on his fingertips, and your hips ground against them subconsciously.

You felt tears sting your eyes as the burning desire to be filled with some part of his body grew stronger. “Michael, please.” You begged.

Once again, Robby’s eyes locked on yours, and the desperation in his face gave you some hope. His index finger swirled around your external anatomy, collecting lubrication, before plunging into your pussy. And just that one, long finger was enough to draw a scream from you. A smug smile slithered across his face as he curled his finger inside you, pressing his fingerprint against your gummy walls.

“Think you can handle another one?” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand clenched around his bicep, feeling the muscles ripple underneath his skin as he fingered you. “Yes, please.” You begged.

Robby deftly inserted his middle finger, curling it in tandem with his index. The stretch was pleasant, and the added finger reached even farther inside you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a string of shredded moans. “That’s my good girl.” He whispered in praise as he continued to pump his wrist.

Finally, once you adjusted to the width of his fingers, you formed a coherent statement. “Can you please fuck me?” You pleaded.

Robby’s smile wasn’t one of agreement but one that mirrored a parent admiring a child’s innocence. “Oh, sweetheart, we’ll get there.” He assured you.

His hand movements stopped, and he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, leaving you uncomfortably empty. He raised his fingers to his line of vision. Your wetness formed slick webs between his two fingers, and he studied it like a new scientific discovery. Then his tongue tore apart the webs, devouring every drop.

Watching him consume your juices with such fervor sent an involuntary pulse to your pussy, foreshadowing his next steps.

“You taste so fucking good.” He growled, pulling his large fingers from his mouth once he sucked them clean. “Stand up for me.” He ordered.

Knees trembling, you rose to your feet, trying to balance yourself in your heels. Robby held you by your ribcage, letting your dress fall to the floor and pool at your ankles, revealing your fully naked body to him. After sitting you back down on the bed, he knelt on the hardwood floor of his bedroom and delicately removed your heels like you were a reverse Cinderella. This level of care overwhelmed you, but you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Robby positioned himself between your legs, initiating a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses beginning at your ankle, moving up to your knee, then your inner thigh. He could feel the furnace heat of your pussy on his nose as he inched closer to your opening. Your knees hung over his shoulders, his hands finding purchase on the outside of your thighs. Then, without a warning, he engulfed your entire womanhood in his mouth, pulling back dangerously slow to create suction. The scream from your throat rivaled that of a psychiatric patient waiting for a room in the Pitt.

The overwhelmed tears from your eyes finally streaked down your temples as your back arched and head tilted back at his magical tongue. You repeated his name over and over and over, and his only answer came in deep grunts, the vibrations adding an unfamiliar sensation to your building orgasm.

His tongue expertly manuevered inside your pussy like a ship on treacherous waters. Every lick, suck, and nibble drove you farther from sanity. And when his thumb reached up to spiral around your delicate clit? Then you only had seconds until you spilled juices inside his mouth.

“Michael, I’m-” Your voice staggered, trying to focus on circling your release. “I’m gonna-”

Your first orgasm came in a tsunami, splashing juices into Robby’s mouth, which he gratefully lapped up like it was an oasis in a desert. Your thighs had clenched around his neck like a boa constrictor, but he had anticipated your release based on the pulsing of your walls around his tongue.

As you came down from your high, Robby kissed back up your body, whispering praises like “that’s my girl” and “so fucking good for me.” When he reached your face and your eyes could focus again, you saw his beard glistening with your cum.

You grasped the back of his neck and pulled him close in a kiss, tasting your own salty flavor. “You’re really good at that.” You mumbled, breath still faltering from your high.

Robby chuckled, dragging his nose against yours. “It’s easy when you taste like fucking candy.” He confessed.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and for the first time in a long time, you realized he still had his scrub cargo pants on. Suddenly, you felt a surge of energy.

“Take off your pants.” You demanded.

Robby pulled away from your shared intimacy with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He asked in the same tone he used in a patient’s room when a junior resident defied him.

Your eyes narrowed, darker than they had been before. “Take off. Your pants.” You broke it down for him.

Robby didn’t know how to handle the change in dynamics. He had been in control in every sexual encounter he ever had since his virginity was lost in college. While he didn’t want to yield, something about the tone in your voice was compelling him to reach for his belt. He stood up straight, leisurely reached for the buckle, and tugged, letting the leather slither from around his waist. You sat up on the bed, watching him undress for you in the lamp-glow of the room with a similar view of power that he had once given you a few minutes ago.

Robby unfastened his cargo scrub bottoms and shucked them off, leaving only his grey boxer-briefs, stained with a pool of precum. You marveled at the man in front of you for the first time. His body was exactly what you imagined in your late-night fantasies. Six foot one, muscled appropriately, and…

Actually, you hadn’t imagined that. His cock bulging from his boxer-briefs, threatening to shred through the fabric. Much larger than you had pictured based on his height and weight, which was already pretty large.

His hand unconsciously massaged his aching dick, and that brought you back to reality. You tilted your head, crossing your ankles over the edge of the bed. “Why are you touching yourself?” You asked, sitting closer to the edge of the bed. “My mouth is right here.”

Robby’s eyes widened slightly, even though he had plenty of blowjobs in his lifetime. But something about your tone excited him. That you were eager to suck him off. You reached a hand out and snatched the waistband of his boxer-briefs, reeling him closer. Then, in one swift motion, you pulled them down, and his cock sprang out, nearly smacking your jaw.

Fucking glorious. Cut, veined, thick, and tilting down from the sheer weight. Your mouth watered at the sight, and your pussy clenched in preparation for later. You wrapped your hand around his cock, barely fitting your grasp, and brushed the tip of your tongue across the head. Robby grasped the back of his neck with both hands, groaning at the lightest touch. You licked up the pearls of his precum, indulging in the salty appetizer. Your moans of delight and its resonance sent a shiver up his spine. He grasped a fistful of your hair to ground himself.

“Listen, kid, I’m not gonna be able to last very long if you keep-” He began.

But you cut him off by plunging down his length with your mouth until your nose was snug against his pelvis. The yell he let out was visceral and animalistic. You half expected him to yank at your hair, but instead he pushed you deeper. Your throat stretched with his length, surely bruising your soft palette. You pulled away, mouth watering even more from the gag reflex.

Robby whispered your name, but you sunk down on him again, drawing another carnal scream from his vocal cords. This time, you remained in place, letting him feel with his free hand the stretch in your esophagus from his cock. He pulled away this time, refusing to let himself come in your mouth.

With impressive ease, Robby man-handled your body and tossed you up further on the bed, crawling over you until his face hovered above yours. “You can take care of me another time.” He whispered, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Tonight is about you.”

Your eyes were lost in his again, and for a moment, neither of you moved. But in that moment of peace, you felt a dangerous vulnerability. Your brows furrowed, holding back unexpected tears. “This isn’t a one-night stand, right?” You whispered.

Robb’s face softened, almost to sadness that he hadn’t already convinced you otherwise. With one elbow propping him above your body, he used his free hand to brush some disheveled strands of hair from your face. “Listen to me.” He ordered with the same authority he used in the hospital. “I told you I can’t do casual hookups. I meant that. This is something that I’ve wanted for an embarrassingly long time. I’m right here, right now. And I will be right here tomorrow.” He continued. “And the next day.” He pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “And the next day.” A kiss to your neck. “And the ne-”

You cut him off with a cheerful kiss, smiling against his lips. Robby let his body press heavier against yours in the moment of innocent love, although you wouldn’t say that out loud for another couple of months. “Michael.” You breathed against his mouth.

He hummed in response, moving his lips down your jaw, tempted to leave territorial marks on your neck for the rest of the Pitt staff to see. You grabbed his face so his eyes met yours again, forcing the connection. “I am begging you. Please fuck me.” You whispered.

Robby finally gave in, deciding he had worshipped you long enough for tonight. With a nod, he reached down and lined his cock up to your entrance, The tip nudged against your threshold, and you gave him a nod of confirmation. Slowly, every inch of him buried deeper, deeper inside you. The stretch of your pussy was paralyzing, and you couldn’t make a sound despite your open mouth.

Once he sank all the way, maxing out at the hilt, he gave a pathetic grunt. “Oh, fucking hell.” He breathed, unable to move from the overpowering tightness of your walls.

For a minute, you both remained still to adjust to each other. Tears welled in your eyes again at the overexpansion of your pussy. Then he began to move. In and out. In and out. A slow, molasses pace to start out. Your breaths were heavy to adjust to his unprecedented size, and his breaths staggered to hold his orgasm back from your tightness. But as he continued to move, you eventually began to meet him in the middle.

Vulgar squelching sounds of your sopping wet pussy meeting the wall of his firm pelvis filled the bedroom. His hips pistoned into yours, the pace becoming steadier and controlled. His eyes never left your face, which scrunched in ecstasy and bliss. He wished he could save that image forever.

There were other positions he wanted to fuck you in. On your knees in his bed, ass in the air. Against the wall of an on-call room. In the backseat of his truck on a hiking trip. Riding him reverse cowgirl on his living room couch. But right now was for both of you. For the months of stolen glances at each other in the Pitt, lingering hands while trading CPR positions, hopeful wishes that the other showed up on a random night shift assignment.

Robby dropped his head to capture your lips as he railed into you. Gratefully, you returned the kiss, grasping the short strands of hair on the back of his head. His Star of David pendant slapped against your chin over and over and over. “Michael.” You whispered in the same cadence that alerted your first orgasm.

He nodded, reaching down to your clit again to work you through the next release. “That’s right. I can feel you getting ready.” He guided, circling your sensitive spot again and again. “Come for me one more time.” He pleaded.

It didn’t take much for your high to snap again. Your walls clenched around his cock, soaking it further. Robby grunted at each squeeze of your pussy, hips becoming weaker as he neared his own climax.

“I’m almost there.” He breathed. “Where do you want me?”

Your eyes snapped open through your dazed bliss, and your legs wrapped around his waist. “Inside me. Please, Michael. I want to feel you.” You pleaded.

That was all Robby needed to hear. A few more vulnerable grunts, and he erupted inside you. Each hot rope of cum was an unusual sensation. He was the first person you allowed to come inside you, let alone beg. He collapsed on top of you, chest heaving. Your hand lazily ran through his sweat-soaked hair.

“I’ve wanted that for a long time.” You admitted, rubbing circles with your other hand on his slippery back.

Robby pressed a gentle kiss to your dewy chest. “Me too.” He agreed.

For a few minutes longer, while your vitals returned to normal, there was peace and quiet for the first time that night. Just exhausted bodies clinging together, enjoying the silence in each other’s presence.

Finally, Robby sat up. “Wait here.” He instructed before heading to his bathroom. You heard the shower start, and he emerged with a dampened wash cloth.

He sat on the edge of his bed, dark hair slack against his forehead from sweat. He cleaned you up with the cloth, making sure nothing was left behind. Then, he placed a hand to the side of your face, cradling it. “Let’s shower and go to bed, okay?” He whispered,

You agreed and followed him to the bathroom. You both reveled in the warmth of the shower, washing each other and kissing until the water turned icy cold. Robby supplied you with a fluffy towel to dry off with, a New Orleans t-shirt, and a pair of his boxer briefs as pajama pants. Once you both settled into his bed again, he pulled you close. Closer than any man had ever held you at night.

“Gotta work tomorrow?” He mumbled against your wet hair.

You shook your head. “No. Seven on, seven off.” You whispered. “What about you?”

“Nope. Seven on, seven off.” He replied.

And with the next week off, you both had plenty of opportunity to make up for lost time.

A/N: This ended up being a 6.2k word fic that I wrote after having some wine. This was definitely NOT proofread, but I did my best! I enjoyed writing this so much. I love Michael Robinavitch with my whole heart.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #michael robinavitch #dr michael robinavitch x reader #dr. michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby #doctor robby #noah wyle #the pitt fanfiction #dana evans

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popcornpoppypop · 2 days ago

Text

Blood is Blood

Summary: You're one of the best attendings in The Pitt, Robby and Abbot trained you up themselves. When you find yourself in a tough spot and need someone to drive you home from an abortion, it had to be Robby.

Warnings: Abortion, vomit, blood, bad boyfriens

A/N: I have not had an abortion, I have had friends who had them and taken care of them after. That is mostly the information I used for this and some stories on reddit, I wanted to rely on patient experience rather than medical procedure and policy for this one.

You had only been an attending for a total of six months, and in that time, you had to help lead the hospital through a mass shooting, the idiot who let off fireworks in the trauma bay, listeria outbreaks 1 through 3, and train the new interns and med students. It had been a lot.

You had leaned on your fellow attendings, trying to learn how to be a leader and the one everyone turned to for everything. Dr. Abbot helped teach you that some people need to be pushed even if they look like they might crumble. Dr. Robby taught you how to make sure everyone was looked after. They both showed you how to carry the weight of every patient and staff member on your shoulders. You figured they would get as tense and tired as theirs were one day.

Robby and you had struck up a friendship and mentorship. It sometimes veered into something else, something neither of you had the confidence to name. Nothing more than flirty jokes and glances across the trauma bay. Besides, you had a boyfriend. Or a sort of boyfriend. You fucked a guy.

“Hey, you look like shit.” Robby smirked as you walked up to the hub desk. Your face pale, shoulders hunched, clearly dehydrated.

“Yeah. Not a great morning.” You sighed.

“You need to go home?” He asked, suddenly concerned.

“Haha. That’s so funny. I’ll be fine. Write me a prescription for Zofran and I’ll be fine.” You groaned as you sat down to start working on your morning paperwork.

“If you need Zofran, you need to go home. Maybe you got that flu that was going around, can’t have you getting patients sick.” Robby shook his head.

“It’s not the flu. I’m fine. Can you just leave it? I’m not in the mood.” You bit back. Robby’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. You were never angry, not really and never with him or the staff. Hell, a med student vomited on your shoes and you still fussed over making sure they were okay.

“Alright. Don’t push yourself too hard.” He pointed and walked away.

You were grateful he hadn’t pushed it any further. You really didn’t know how to deal with your situation and Robby fussing wouldn’t make it better.

You managed your way through most of the shift, having to stop and sit a couple of times. Something Robby was keenly aware of. You were about to head into another room when your phone rang. Robby watched you take it, something that was also very abnormal for you. You had a strict policy with yourself about phone usage.

“What!? No. That’s not going to be possible.” You snapped. Robby watched as you got frantic with whoever was on the phone.

“F-fine. I’ll figure something out I guess. Yeah, keep the appointment.” You hung up the phone and shoved it back in your pocket as you stomped off to the next room.

“Hey, Dana, what’s going on with her?” Robby leaned over the counter. Dana looked up at him, glasses perched on the end of her nose, then to you and back to him with a confused look.

“How the hell should I know? You two are besties, surely if she wanted anyone here to know, you’d be the first.” She shrugged.

“She’s off today.” Robby wrung his hands together.

“She’s doing fine. You’re just nosey.” Dana laughed. Robby waved her off as he watched you scurry from room to room.

You were grateful when you saw Dr. Shen walk in. You were ready for the day to be over, you were ready before you got out of bed that morning.

“John, I am so glad to see you.” You sighed as you walked up to him.

“It’s nice to be needed.” He smiled as he sipped his coffee. You rolled your eyes as you began to rattle off your cases to him.

“You’re lucky you get Y/N as your number two. Shen still hasn’t found his drive yet. Not sure what I’m going to have to do for that kid to get motivated.” Abbot shook his head.

“Has she seemed off to you lately?” Robby asked as he watched you and Dr. Shen talk.

“No. But we only work together once a week. Why? Something up? You think she’s breaking” Jack leaned in with a concerned look.

“I don’t know. Dana thinks I’m being nosey. I don’t know. I’ll keep an eye on it.” Robby shrugged as he hiked his backpack on his shoulder. He ran to catch up with you as you left.

“Hey, you sure you’re okay? You seemed upset today.” Robby dug through his backpack.

“Just…don’t feel well.” You said, you could feel the emotion catching in your throat. Your body knew when the day was over and would start to make the wall of professionalism crumble.

“You need anything?” He asked as he handed you a protein bar. You often forgot to eat until you got home. He’d caught you when you passed out from low blood sugar once. He tried to shove protein bars at you every couple of hours.

You took it and flipped it around in your hands. You’re mind was racing, too much happening. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I…”

“Hey, you two coming to the park? I got those seltzer things you like Y/N.” Donnie smiled.

“I can’t.” You blurted out in a way that made the two men look at you confused. “I’m not feeling well.” You cleared your throat. Donnie nodded and walked off.

“You need me to walk you home? Where’s that boy you’re with anyway? He usually drives you home.” Robby looked around the street.

“We…broke up.” Your voice cracking.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Robby suddenly felt like an ass. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.” He said, guiding you by the shoulder.

You walked in silence for a while. Robby keeping on eye on you, watching as a thousand thoughts flashed across your face. He wanted to stop and ask what the hell was going through your head but didn’t want to impose. He walked you to the front door of your apartment and was going to start his goodbyes when you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the apartment.

“Whoa, what the hell Y/N?” Robby stumbled into the apartment, nearly face-planting with the force you pulled him.

“Sorry! I just, I need something and I couldn’t ask while people were around and it’s already going to be hard for me to ask and I just feel myself losing the nerve.” Your words falling out of your mouth in a rush of anxiety and desperation.

“Hey, it’s okay. Take a breath. What’s going on?” Robby put his hands on your shoulders.

“I need to ask you a favor.” You bit at your bottom lip, tasting the copper as it started to bleed. You lead Robby into the living room, gesturing for him to sit. He obliged, though his confusion hadn’t lightened.

“Are you in trouble?” Robby ran his hands up and down his legs as his anxiety started to rise.

“No. Well, yes.” You sighed. “Okay, I need you to let me just get all of the information out and then you can ask questions.” You looked at him with big, scared eyes.

“Okay, I’ll be quiet.” He agreed, his brows furrowed still.

“I found out three days ago that I’m pregnant. I didn’t notice any symptoms for so long, most of the ones I did kind of notice I chalked up to stress. When I finally went into my GP to try and get something for my acid reflux, she told me that I was pregnant. Went to the OB, she confirmed it. Problem is, I’m 12 weeks, or I guess closer to 13 now. Anyway, I don’t want to be pregnant and I sure as hell don’t have the time for a damn baby. I got set up for an abortion appointment next Wednesday. Oh! I told Darren, the guy I was seeing. He took off, screamed in my face how it was my fault and left. Prick. Anyway, I got a call today that because it’s further along they’ll have to do a surgical abortion and I’ll be sedated and because of that I have to have someone to take me home or they won’t do it. So, I need someone to pick me up and I love Samira but she’s so young and she still lets secrets slip sometimes and you’re off on Wednesday too and I trust you to keep this to yourself.” You took a breath, feeling like you just did sprints.

Robby sat there trying to decipher the information he had just received.

“Darren screamed in your face? You’re pregnant and he screamed in your face?” Robby felt himself starting to get angry, who the hell does that?

“I think you missed the important part.” You crossed your arms.

“No, I got that important part. I’m taking you to get an abortion on Wednesday. He screamed in your face? Where does he live exactly?” Robby asked as he got his phone out of his pocket.

“He’s an idiot, not important. I’m not giving you that information anyway.” You rolled your eyes.

“I bet Abbot could figure it out. He’d have some shit to mess him up too.” Robby said mostly to himself.

“Jesus, Robby!” You snapped.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. Not important. Are you okay? I mean, that’s a lot to deal with.” Robby looked up at you with those soft, brown eyes that could melt snow.

“Y-yeah. It’s not great, but I’m fine.” You shrugged.

“You’ll tell me if you’re not.” He said it as an order more than anything.

“I will. Sorry, I freaked you out.” You tore your eyes from his in an attempt to keep from getting too worked up.

“Okay. What time?”

“Huh?”

“What time do I pick you up?” He tilted his head.

“Oh right. Duh! The procedure lasts about forty five minutes, appointment is at noon so around 12:45pm.” You nodded.

“So, 11:30am. Got it. I’ll be out front at 11:30am.” He nodded

“You don’t have to drive me. I was going to uber there.”

“Honey, Please. Like I’m letting you do that.” He shook his head, a smile spread across his face.

“Uh…” You’re mind going blank.

“I’ll see you Wednesday.” He nodded as he left.

You tried to go about the rest of the week as normal. Unsure how to feel about any of it. It was too much to think about, you put it in a box to deal with later.

You let out a groan as you forced yourself awake, Wednesday morning. You kept to your normal routine, showering, brushing your teeth, putting your hair up. The doorbell went off at 11am. Of course he would be early.

“You’re early.” You raise an eyebrow at Robby who was leaning on the doorway with two coffees.

“Wanted to make sure you had enough time to talk if you wanted.” He said, handing you a latte.

“I’m not supposed to have this.” You scolded.

“Oh we both know that it’s fine. You haven’t eaten anything right?” He asked, taking his sunglasses off.

“No, but they said no coffee.” You said sipping the latte.

“You’ll be fine. Enjoy the caffeine.” He had an Ikea bag slung over his shoulder as he barged into your apartment.

“What are you doing?” You looked at him, confused.

“Where are you going to want to rest up? Bed or couch?” he asked, looking like a man on a mission.

“Um, I was planning on staying on the couch mostly. Why?” You followed him into the living room. “I wanted to get it setup now so we aren’t worrying about it later.” He said as he started pulling things out of the bag.

“What the hell is all that?”

“Right, I did some googling,”

“Dangerous.”

“I found some Reddit posts where women talked about what they needed or wanted when they were recovering. I got you a new heating pad, a new blanket, and one of those neck massagers because it looked cool. I got some snacks, too. I got a big ass water bottle, too, that you will finish today, no arguments.” He said as he started positioning everything within arm's reach.

“Robby, you didn’t need to do all that.” You said, your throat tight with emotion.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to. So, I’m only going to ask once and then we can move on. Are you sure?” He said, suddenly getting serious.

“Thank you. Yes, I’m sure. I can’t…I can’t have a baby right now.” You looked away, the tears stinging as they formed.

“Okay. That’s okay.” He smiled. “Let’s get this done with then.” He nodded as he grabbed your sweatshirt hanging by the door and tossed it to you.

The waiting room for the OB was always so odd. Some people were there to get great news. Some for check ups, just another Wednesday. Some people were there with bad news. No one every really knew how to act. You sat in the uncomfortable chair, your knee bouncing with nerves.

“You okay?” Robby asked.

“Just nervous.” You cleared your throat.

“I forgot to ask, do you want me in there?” He shifted to face you.

“That’s asking too much.” You shook your head.

“It’s really not. If you want privacy that’s okay. But I’m more than happy to sit with you.” Robby smiled. You looked up at him, your hands were shaking and he could see how nervous you were.

“Okay. Yeah. Please.” You stuttered.

“Y/N L/N?” The nurse called out. You jumped up and scurried toward her. She brought you into a procedure room and handed you a gown.

“Hubby, you can help her get dressed.” The nurse said.

“Oh no. I’m not, I’m just here for moral support.” Robby’s face flushed red.

“Could have fooled me.” She chuckled as she left.

“I’ll just turn around, while you do that.” Robby cleared his throat as he faced the wall. You laughed as you gowned up. This man has torn the clothes off of countless patients but the thought of seeing you nude made him blush.

“You can turn around.” You said as you got settled on the bed. Your hands sat on your lap; you nervously picked at the cuticle.

“You doing okay?” Robby sat in the stool beside the bed.

“Don’t laugh, but I really have a hard time with needles and get nervous with sedation.” You sighed.

“Seriously? You’re around needles all day. You sedate people all day.” He scoffed.

“I know, other people. Not me.” You fidgeted with the collar of your gown. Robby realized you were serious and moved to take your hand.

“It’s not full sedation, just enough to relax you. I’ll be here the whole time, so you know there won’t be any mistakes. Okay?” He moved his head so you’d make eye contact. You nodded, afraid if you opened your mouth you’d start crying.

“Good morning, Y/N. It’s good to see you again.” Dr. Smith smiled as she came in.

“Good morning.” You cleared your throat.

“Is this your partner?”

“Oh no, just the moral support.” Robby smiled.

“Okay, do you need me to go over anything, I assume you understand the procedure.” Dr. Smith asked as she sat down across from you.

“No, I’m just ready to get this over with.” You took a deep breath.

“Understandable. Nurse Garcia is going to come in and get an IV going and start the sedation. Once you’re comfortable we’ll get started.” She nodded as she left.

“last chance to make a break for it.” Robby smiled.

“I can’t wait for the drugs, Jesus my hands are sweaty.” You shook your shaking hands. Robby laughed, though he could see the grief forming in your eyes.

“Hello, I’m Nurse Garcia. I’m going to get you hooked up for sedation.” She smiled. She brought a tray over with the IV supplies on it. She started cleaning your arm and your breath started picking up.

“Hey, look at me. You’re okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that.” Robby held your hand in his, rubbing the soft skin in circles to distract you.

“Yeah, I know. I know that.” You nodded. His smile made the wrinkles around his eyes form and it made your stomach flip.

“Alright, sweetheart. You’re all set.” The nurse smiled. “I pushed the sedative, you should start to feel it in a few minutes.” She said as she lowered the lights and left the room.

“Not so bad.” Robby shrugged.

“She was good.” You nodded. “You were good.” You smiled.

“Not like I’ve been doing this for thirty years or anything.” He said.

“I should bring you to every blood draw.” You chuckled.

“I’d go if you needed.” He smiled. You couldn’t tell if it was real or the meds, but Robby was flirting. You wanted to flirt back, but this was your abortion and you were starting to feel high.

“Damn, that shit hit like train.” You mumbled as you swayed back and forth.

“Okay, Trainspotting. Lay back before you fall off.” He laughed as he helped you get comfortable.

“You’re so nice to me. I like it.” You smiled up at him sleepily.

“You’re easy to be nice to.” He said as he tucked the blanket around you.

“You aren’t this nice to the other attendings. You wouldn’t tuck Abbot in.” You laughed.

“I don’t think Jack would let me. He’d be an angry sedated patient.” You both chuckled.

“You have nice eyes. I always get all giddy when you smile and they look all gooey.” You mumbled.

“Oh yeah? Gooey?” Robby leaned on the guardrail.

“Yeah, like a sad puppy. It makes my tummy all butterfly-full of butterflies.” You said. Robby should tell you to stop. He should maybe excuse himself, have the nurse sit with you. But he wanted to say the same thing back.

“Alright Y/N. We’re going to get started.” Dr. Smith came in.

“Hooray. I can’t wait to have an empty uterus.” You cheered.

“Let’s get her legs in the stirrups.” Dr. Smith said as the nurse put your feet up.

“I can’t believe I let that stupid boy knock me up. Dumb boys.” You grumbled.

“We are dumb, sorry.” Robby nodded.

“No. You’re not a boy. You’re a man. Men are stupid too but not as much. You wouldn’t scream at me. I need a man.” You grumbled.

“I’d never scream at you.” Robby said as he watched the tears quietly fall down your temples.

“A little sting now. Just to help open the cervix.” Dr. Smith said. Robby took your hand in his. You hissed as the pain hit. “Good. Alright, you’re going to feel some pressure.” Dr. Smith noted as she started her machine.

“It can help to massage her belly.” The nurse nodded to Robby.

“Right. Yeah.” Robby cleared his throat as he put his wide hand on your lower belly and gave a gentle rub.

“Hmm…Warm.” You hummed.

“Almost over.” Dr. Smith said.

“You’re doing great.” Robby said.

“Hurts.” You groaned with knitted brows.

“I know, Hun. Do your best to relax.” The nurse gave your leg a pat.

“Deep breaths, Y/N.” Robby couched.

“Ah! That’s too much!” you hissed.

“I know, just squeeze my hand. You’re nearly there.” Robby brushed some stray hair from your face.

“Okay, sweetheart. You’re all done. Everything looks good. We’ll keep you here for thirty minutes to make sure there’s no reactions and you can go home.” Dr. Smith smiled as she helped the nurse put your legs back down.

“It’s done?” You whimpered.

“Yeah, it’s done.” Robby confirmed with a soft smile. You nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I don’t want to cry.” You sighed.

“It’s normal. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Robby said, handing you a tissue.

“I wanted this.” Your bottom lip trembled.

“Doesn’t mean it was going to feel good. You’ll be okay.” He rubbed circles with his thumb on the back of your hand. Robby felt his heart breaking for you. He also couldn’t stop thinking about Darren. That boy would be in trouble if they crossed paths.

“I’m sorry, I asked you go through this.” You sighed, the sedation starting to wear off.

“I’m not. I would hate to know you’d gone through this alone.” He smiled. You looked up at him and you felt the need to ask him if he felt what you did. You were about to say something when the nurse came back in.

“Alright, you are good to go. Remember to take it easy today, the next week if you can. Drink lots of water and good meals. You’ll be bleeding on and off for a while. If you’re going through more than a pad an hour, go to the ER.” She said, handing you some paperwork.

“Okay. Thanks.” You said moving to sit up, Robby held your arms as your head wobbled a little.

“You want some help getting dressed?” Robby asked, keeping his patient care voice on.

“I…I might need it yeah.” You sighed as you fumbled with your underwear. Robby took them from your clumsy hands. He eased them up your legs, his fingers tracing up the skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stopped at the top of your thighs, letting you take over.

“Hold onto my shoulders, step in.” He instructed as he got you into your sweatpants. You finished pulling them all the way on.

“Can you untie the gown?” You asked turning away from him. He hummed in agreement. He pulled the tie and grabbed the gown, tossing it in the laundry bin by the door. He grabbed your shirt and pulled it over your head, his eyes never leaving your back.

“Sit back down, I’ll put your shoes on.” He cleared his throat as he put the shoes on. You watched as he tied them tight, the muscles in his shoulders flexing with his movements.

“Thank you.” You hummed.

“Let’s get you home.” He said, holding out his hands for you. You took them and clumsily got to your feet. You wobbled a little, Robby steadying you with an arm around your waist.

The car ride was quiet, not suffocating but nearing comfortable. You let your head lean against the cool window. You were fighting the nausea, you didn’t know if it was from sedation or morning sickness. You were losing the battle.

“Robby. Robby pull over!” You gasped, suddenly bolt up right.

“Okay, Okay.” He moved the car off the road. You fumbled to unbuckle yourself, flinging the door open. Robby ran around to you, grabbing your hair as you retched into the gutter. “You’re okay. Easy.” He helped you sit back up.

“Ew.” You groaned.

“You alright?” He asked, looking you over like the trained medical professional he was.

“Yeah. I think it’s fine for now.” You nodded.

You had always had a low pain tolerance. You would break down if you scraped your knee. The pain radiating from your abdomen made you want to break down completely. The walk from the car to your apartment was arduous. You leaned most of your weight onto Robby. He offered to carry you, but you declined due to concerns for his back.

“Okay, let’s get you some Zofran.” He said as you got comfortable on the couch.

“I don’t have any.” You grumbled.

“Yes, you do.” He came back in with the pills. “Had them filled yesterday. Perks of working in an ER.” He smiled, handing it to you. You took them happily.

“Everyone said it wouldn’t be too bad. The liars.” You groaned as you wrapped the blanket around you.

“Different for everyone, you know that.” Robby sighed. “Drink your water. I’ll be back.” He nodded and left. You were going to question where he was going but decided you didn’t really care. Your head felt heavy and you didn’t care to fight it, letting yourself fall asleep.

“Honey, you need to eat something.” Robby’s rough voice lulling you awake. Your apartment suddenly filled with the smell of food.

“Hmm, what?” You grumbled, confused. Robby was standing next to you with a bowl.

“You need to eat so we can give you something for the pain.” He said, handing you a bowl of soup.

“What’s this?” you asked, confused as to where the hell he had found soup in your apartment.

“Chicken noodle soup. My grandma’s recipe, so no jokes. Her’s was better, not sure how.” He shrugged.

“You…made me soup?” You looked up at him, confused.

“Yes. It’s got protein and iron, two things you need most right now.” He said as he lifted a book into his lap.

“What is that?” you pointed to the book.

“Well, I would have hoped you encountered a book in med school at some point.” He teased. “It’s a book about emotional trauma. My therapist is making me read it.” He cleared his throat as he put his glasses on.

“You brought a book? How long are you planning on being here?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Until you go to bed tonight. Or you kick me out, whichever comes first.” He said, not looking up from his book. You let out a huff, enamored with this strange man. You ate a spoonful of soup and were surprised by how good it was.

“Fuck that’s really good!” You blurted out.

“Gee thanks.” Robby chuckled.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Cook is a strong word. I get around the kitchen well enough. I make pasta, soup and that’s about it. The soup is in the genes.” He winked.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever made me soup.” You sipped at the broth.

“Really? Your mom never heated up a can when you were sick?”

“Ha! My mother barely checked my temperature if I was sick. I was a nuisance if I was sick. She never stayed home to take care of me. If I didn’t look sick enough, I was faking. I heated up my own soup.” You shrugged.

“Every time you tell me more about your life, I get sad.” Robby laughed.

“Oh, please.” You swatted at him. “You don’t need to stay here. I’m going to be asleep, mostly.” You said.

“Someone needs to make sure you hydrate. You’re terrible at it.” He said, flipping a page. You were going to retort but felt the distinct gush of blood that told you, you needed to change your pad at the same time a cramp squeezed your insides. A finishing move from your reproductive system.

“Oh fuck…” You groaned, hunched over.

“You okay? What do you need?” Robby put his book aside and put his hand on your back.

“Cramps. Blood. The usual.” You groaned. “I need…I gotta go change.” Your face red.

“Okay.” Robby didn’t hesitate to help you up.

“There’s going to be blood everywhere, just turn around.” You warned.

“Oh please. Like blood has ever bothered me, you know better.” Robby chuckled.

“But it’s different blood.”

“Blood is blood and I don’t give a shit.” He shrugged. “You go to the bathroom, I’ll clean this up.” He nodded. You grabbed his hands and heaved yourself up. Sure enough, blood everywhere.

“Damn, I liked that couch.” You shook your head as you hobbled off to the bedroom to get changed. When you came back out, the couch was cleaned up and a new blanket lay ready.

“I got you some OTC pain meds if you need them.” Robby’s glasses sat on the end of his nose as he scrolled on his phone. “Your color is still a little off. Do you want some apple juice? I got one that has iron.” He offered as you stood in front of him, looking confused.

“You got me apple juice with iron?”

“Well, you need to keep your blood sugar up so it’s easier for you to replenish your cells and you are bad about eating well. I knew making you drink juice would be easier.” He said putting his phone away. You watched him for a minute, trying to understand this man that was taking care of you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

“Whoa, what!?” He looked shocked, his face going red.

“I’m so confused.” You shrugged, going to sit back down.

“Are you feeling okay? Should I be worried about neuro symptoms right now?” Robby gave a nervous chuckle.

“Maybe it’s my bad luck with men or humans in general, but I’ve never had anyone take care of me, let alone to this level, unless they were trying to get something from me.” You wrapped the blanket around yourself.

“Honey, the fact that you weren’t looked after at any point in your life makes me want to take even better care of you.” Robby sighed, leaning on the back of the couch. “To answer your question, no. I don’t want to fuck you.”

“Oh.” You said, your face flushed with embarrassment.

“I don’t want to fuck you because you just had an abortion and feel like shit. That would be very fucking weird of me.” Robby smirked. “But, if you’re asking if I have feelings for you, then yeah. I thought it was obvious.” He said.

“Obvious? In what world!?” You chuckled.

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. But you said that butterfly comment today, and even though you were high, I didn’t want to push it away anymore.” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to say anything tonight, by the way. Was just going to take care of you and go home. You forced my hand.”

“Jesus, Robby! You realize that all of this,” You waved your hands around the apartment and up and down his form. “would make any woman fall desperately in love with you? I already was, but you never gave a girl a chance!” You laughed.

“So, what I’m hearing is that you love me.” He winked.

“You were ready to beat up Darren for screaming at me,”

“Still debating on not doing that.”

“you googled how to take care of me in recovery, drove me to get another man’s fetus aborted, held my hair while I vomited, made me soup.” You scoffed. “Cleaned up my blood! I don’t even know the last time I had a man that didn’t cringe when I leaked through a tampon, let alone helped clean up! Of course I love you!” You shouted.

“Okay then!” He mimicked you.

“So, what now?”

“Now, you take those meds and drink some juice.” He said, looking at you like it was obvious.

“No. No, I mean with us?” You said, grabbing the pills and sipping your water.

“I don’t know. I’m leaving that at your feet, Honey.”

“Why do you always call me Honey? You’ve been doing that since I was a resident.” You cocked an eyebrow.

“You don’t remember? You were fixing up a wound and using an entire jar of Manuka honey on it, when I came in, you had it everywhere. I think that’s when I knew I was done for.” He smiled.

#the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #dr. robby #dr. michael robinavitch #dr. robby x reader #dr. michael “robby” robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch #michael robinavich x reader

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ilariyalavorowrites · 21 days ago

Text

Bright Lights

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, post-divorce healing, Pitt Fest is a warning of its own, medical inaccuracies.

Pairings: Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Universe: The Pitt

Reader gender: Female

Tagged: @questionably-intelligent69 , @dizzybee03 , @virgomillie , @mrsjosephmazzello , @sus-styles , @moonshooter , @hagarsays @that-sarcastic-writer

Part 1/3

Pitt Fest was far from where you had expected to be, with your Rig parked up just behind the Medical Tent that you, Frankie, several other untrained volunteers and additional off-duty health care workers manned in a six hours on then two hours off. This was one of the many such stations dotted around the festival's grounds, yet still, you had ended up at the one closest to the main stage.

Your House, Station 42, had quickly signed up for this opportunity, alongside a few others dotted about the district, when the call went out across the airwaves. Reyes and Smith had been selected, only to pull out at the eleventh hour. This left the spot open; Frankie swiftly volunteered the two of you. She almost tripped over her feet as she darted towards Captain Valentino’s office.

The additional pay bump was definitely a helpful incentive, but Frankie’s overly keen desire to attend in some capacity had won out. At least your day would be wildly different from the standard shift. Your mind would be occupied, forgetting about him for one day. It could be the jumping-off point you needed to finally move forward with your life and let go of any nagging residual feelings. As you checked over the supplies in the back of your Rig one last time, making sure you were full stocked for whatever this day might bring. You relaxed, maybe you would enjoy this after all, as there were allocated slots for you and Frankie to explore, eat and enjoy all of what made up Pitt Fest.

Placing your clipboard down, you climbed out of the back of the Ambulance before slamming the doors shut. “Frankie, all the checks are done,” you called out to your partner.

“Excellent, let’s get this show on the road!” ----------------------------------------------------------------------- 5pm Pitt Fest

The morning flew by in a blink of an eye. You had handed out more than a few dozen water bottles to a fair few people, some more noticeably stoned than others. The first aid that you had delivered had been for minor scrapes, bruises and the most noticeable had been heat exhaustion. Thankfully, they had good friends with the forethought to bring them to the medical tent as soon as they had noticed that they were flagging.

Their patient would recover; they were out of the sun, shaded by the tent, drinking fluids whilst being cooled by one of the portable fans. “I’ve retaken the temp,” Frankie said, as she stepped up beside you. “37.4, looks like they will avoid a trip to the ER this time”

“Hopefully, this will be enough of an experience,” You replied, as that had been you once upon a time. You had been that overconfident, only to later suffer the consequences hours later down the line. There had been a fair few college night outs where your adolescence brain thought it knew best. The hangovers the next morning told a completely different story.

You couldn’t help but silently chuckle at the memories of who you had once been. When you had finally decided on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life, it was then you had needed to grow up. You never once regretted the choice. Helping the injured and the sick was more of a calling than just a job. A few opportunities arose along the way, including one that was abruptly ended. Namely, your failed marriage to one Dr Michael Robinavitch.

The one bright spark that had come out of it was Jake. Your ex-husband’s sort of stepson. Robby and Jake’s mother Janey had never quite made it to the altar, but he was still involved in Jake’s life when the two of you dated what felt like many moons ago. Jake had been a small kid when you first started coming round, yet his devilishly cheeky smile and infectious bubbly nature bowled you over. So when your marriage broke down, it was hard to even consider not having him in your life. It felt wrong to abandon the connection that had built up with both him and his mother.

Janey had become a good friend along the way, ultimately; you had decided that you would keep them in your life. The text messages, phone calls, and weekly lunches continued. You had built a life outside the broken shards of your marriage. They were part of the family you had chosen. You could not help but smile as you thought over the moments that you might have missed if you had chosen to push them away and out of your life. It was one of the few decisions you’d never regret making.

Marrying Michael was another. He had been a bright spark in the sea of countless bad dates. You had been the one to venture across the thin line where friendship and romance met. Yet, he had been the one to silence the whispers, choosing to kiss you publicly in the middle of the department. That sent the gossip train in overdrive as they each took turns not so subtly places bets. Was this a midlife crisis in slow motion unfolding for all the world to see? How serious was it, actually? Was it going to last longer than his last relationship? Or would you grow tired of your older man as he continued to come home a little more broken, a little more given up in the aid of others.

The post-it notes went up with varying predicts but as the days rolled into months and the first anniversary came and went. Soon, the tone started to shift and change. The odds of you walking away from him faded away, leaving room for the possibility of him proposing or you getting pregnant. It was hard not to laugh each time that you walked through the ambulance bay doors as you passed the security office window with the cork board in plain sight.

Frankie and your other colleagues had started their own game, placing bets on what the latest and most ridiculous and wildest speculation would come from this shift. There were a few rotating favourites that were simply produce of individuals have too much time on their hands. Such a wild notion that either you or Michael would invite Dr Jack Abbott to join in your relationship. You had gotten some good laughs from it.

It had never crossed your mind until you had seen that neon yellow post-it, but it was an avenue that would remain unexplored. A few late nights followed some nightmare shifts; drinks flowed and what happened next, well, that you’d never say. That would stay between you, Jack and Robby. This way, no one could weaponize it, or use it as an excuse to uncover why the marriage had failed. Communication lay at the heart of it; both you had been to blame.

As he had steadily closed more of himself off, you had not been quick enough to seize the opportunities to reach him. By the time you had pushed to make him see you, it was too late. Michael Robinavitch had slammed the door firmly shut. There had been no way back.

As you lifted your gaze up, only to find a familiar and welcomed sight mere feet away. “Jake!” You called out before you crossed the short distance, making your way over to where he was hovering at the edge of the tent. Your warm smile deepened, but quickly you remembered that in his latest message, Jake had mentioned that Robby would be with him. Dread bubbled up from within; this was going to be awkward.

A figure strides into place, slipping a hand into Jake’s, beaming from ear to ear; this was not Robby. Long dirty locks framing her soft features; maybe this was the infamous Leah that he had been casually dropping into conversations over the last several weeks. For a few moments, you all stood there in silence, waiting for someone to speak. It was far too hot to be needing your standard issue jacket, which thankfully you’d left in the Ambulance. This wasn’t what you had expected; all that fear at having to try to navigate through small talk with Michael faded away.

How do you know each other?” Leah said, as the breath that you didn’t know you were holding rushed out, leaving space for Jake to jump in. “Yes, this is my mum’s friend,” Jake answered; that was one way to be introduced, better without adding in the Ex-wife label into the mix, over complicating an already complicated situation. It was refreshing to escape being viewed through that broken lens. “This is Leah, my friend…girlfriend” You watched as Leah playfully jabbed at him after he said friend, only to swiftly correct himself.

You smiled, offering a hand out to her. She seemed like a sweet kid, from what you could gather from this brief encounter, but Jake was over the moon, floating on cloud nine as he stood beside her. You could remember when Robby looked you like Jake looked at Leah. With pure affection, joy and contentment just from being together. It warmed your heart to see him happy. Leah didn’t leave you hanging, shaking your hand. Mirroring the sentiment, you responded, “Nice to meet you as well.”

“Oh, so you’re the person Jake always mentions.” You blinked, not expecting that; he talks about you? A warm feeling bubbled up from within. That maternal love that you once you would never embrace, yet Robby had brought that into your life. The opportunity to embark on that journey from the beginning may soon disappear. Not that hadn’t chances that had burnt out before truly beginning; Michael did not know. He had not been by your side then, Jake and Janey had.

You would count on one hand the ones you trusted with that secret. Could the stress from the divorce tipped your body over the edge? Possibly, but you’d never really an answer to what caused the miscarriage. Yet, that was not an avenue you would venture down right here and now.

“All good” Hearing this, a smile spread across your face, the image of the kind young man he’d become filling your mind. You briefly met his gaze, realizing he’d been observing the interaction. Your smile widened, knowing the countless questions racing through Jake’s mind in a split second. You dared to tease him.

“Did you know that Jake wanted to be a paramedic when he was younger, that or an astronaut.” You said in jest, knowing exactly how he would react. “Driving the wee woo and patching up the boo boos” You could see the redness in his cheeks in response to your words. He was trying to play it off, but Leah beat to him to the punch.

“It’s so cool that you have a doctor and paramedic in your life; I bet you get to hear the best stories;” This girl was a gift. The mere mention of Robby brings you back down; Leah was unaware of your connection to her boyfriend’s sort of step dad. Her words were untainted by malicious intent; there was an innocence wrapped around each syllable. A curiosity to know the family that Jake had, both by blood and by choice.

‘Just keep smiling, just keep smiling. Don’t break’ This has been your mantra for far too long, for each moment that his name had arisen in conversation, when remembering the good times and the funny stories where had a starring role. The pain persisted, even a year and a half after your divorce became official. It was almost two years since you had spent more than a few minutes together in the same room.

It had to make a choice, the same one that had you kept you barely held together, by the thinnest of threads as you pulled yourself up and out of your thoughts. It had only been a fraction of a minute, a few seconds at best. Not long enough for anyone to notice that anything was wrong; you had played this hand one too many times; it had become almost like a second nature. A poor excuse for a coping mechanism, but it would do.

“You two should be off enjoying yourselves, not hanging around here unless you need anything?” You gave them a gentle push, hoping they’d go and enjoy themselves. To see, hear, and experience and make memories that they’d look back on fondly. You had been passively glancing around the tent to ensure that you hadn’t missed any new medical emergency, no matter how minor. Nothing had come through, just a few more water bottles had been passed out.

“No, we’re all good. We’re on the way to the main stage,” You nodded, listening. The band that was billed to perform next hadn’t been one that you had heard of. They were an up-and-coming act that Jake had recently discovered. You could hear the excitement as he spoke. “Good, take some water but if you need anything you know where to find me,” You replied as Frankie slid up beside you. “We’ve got a new patient” You nodded, turning back to Jake and Leah.

“I’ll text you later Jake, Leah it was great to meet you” You said before following Frankie over to where the injured patient sat uncomfortably on a plastic chair. You smiled over your shoulder, watching as the two teenagers departed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------5:45 pm Pitt Fest

Frankie stood on the edge of the tent, ready for her next break. She had let her friend head off first and get something to eat at that one vendor that they both had spotted on their way in. The mouthwatering aroma still lingered in her mind, her stomach growling in response to the mere memory. She was more than ready to explore all that Pitt Fest had to offer up.

Yet the series of loud popping drew Frankie back out of her thoughts; had someone just set off firecrackers this close to the main stage? If so, that was thoughtlessly reckless; there would be burns heading over shortly. Mixing alcohol and anything that even the smallest of explosive was a bad idea. The popping stopped, but bone chilling screams followed, drowning out the pulsating flow of music.

This wasn’t what she had initially concluded as another round of popping, louder and closer than before. It took a few seconds to register what was going on, as her radio sparked into life. Through the crackles of the airway, SHOTS FIRED came through as clear as day. This repeated a few times to make sure that everyone received the message.

‘Fuck,’ Frankie muttered, as she grabbed the nearest first aid kit before rushing off into the panicked crowd. In this moment, she wasn’t thinking of herself, she was thinking about the safety of the public, of her friend who had wandered unknowingly in danger.

This wasn’t how today was meant to go; far from it.

---------------------------- If anyone wishes to tagged in any of the Pitt x Reader content, please reply or message me

#reader insert #angst heavy #angst with a happy ending #the pitt #author ilariya lavoro #the pitt x reader #dr. michael robinavitch #dr robby #dr robby x reader #tw: hurt/comfort #tw: angst #tw: pitt fest

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texasbama · 1 month ago

Text

Good night. Get some rest. Tomorrow is another day.

The Pitt 1.01 '7:00 A.M.' // The Pitt 1.15 '9:00 P.M.'

#the pitt #the pitt spoilers #thepittedit #dr. michael robinavitch #noah wyle #noahwyleedit #tvedit #tvgifs #tvandfilm #kaygifs

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randompiecesofwriting · 11 days ago

Text

Coffee Snob

Summary: Robby meets his neighbor in the middle of the night on the rooftop of his apartment building, quickly establishing a relationship he wasn’t fully expecting and finding it to be more serious than originally thought when she shows up in his ER a few days later

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Reader gets stitches but process isn’t described at all, Author has absolutely no medical knowledge, Robby’s a worrywart

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone who read my Jack fic Wrong Name! It got way more love an attention than I ever thought it would and that means the absolute world to me! This is my first Robby fic so of course let me know what you think and I hope you like it!

Part 2

There was a man in your spot.

You’ve been up here nearly every night for the past few months and never had there been a man in your spot.

Usually you crave the silence this spot gave you, the peace of nighttime, the calm connectivity of the city below you. A man in your spot threatened to burst that bubble.

But seeing this man, in his fraying hoodie, with his legs dangling over the edge, drinking a beer, didn’t bring you any bitterness or disappointment. Rather you felt strangely calm.

Before you could fully process what you were doing you gave the handle to the roof access door a little jiggle and kicked the rocks beneath your feet softly, letting him know you were here before calling out “You know I’m not an expert but I’m pretty sure heights and alcohol don’t mix well”

He pivoted around slowly, your loud entrance having the desired effect of warning him of your arrival rather than startling him.

Soft brown eyes connected with yours in silence for a moment, you taking the opportunity to see just how downtrodden the man before you looked before his eyes flickered down to your hands, noting the beer that dangled from your fingers with a quiet huff “not an expert huh”

“Not an expert” you confirmed, taking a slow step forward “I practice this as an amateur”

He snorted under his breath at that. Turning back to the city before him, you taking that as a silent invitation to join him, planting yourself just far enough away to avoid making it awkward. “You know that’s my spot”

At that a dejected chuckle came out of him, an acknowledgement of an inside joke you weren’t apart of before shaking his head “not an expert but you have a spot”

“Never said I usually drink up here” you tossed the comment out as you twisted the top off your drink, giving his abandoned can next to him a toast before taking a swig.

The silence blanketed the two of you for a moment, somehow avoiding ever being oppressive or awkward, before he broke it “usually my spot’s at work”

“ahhh” you hummed, watching the lights of the city below you “so you’re the expert here then”

He laughed at that, a big sigh coming out of him as his shoulders finally fell slightly “never said I usually drink up there”

You let your eyes drift over his form for a second, taking the time to finally properly appreciate the man beside you “Honestly I kind of hope not, you strike me as someone with a job I wouldn’t want alcohol mixed with”

Another chuckle left the man, his chin tucking down into his chest as if to hide it “What gave that away, the scrubs?”

You smiled mischievously at him from behind the lip of your bottle, taking the time to take another swig, letting the silence between the two of you settle a bit before speaking “since you’re not offering the information that mean I get to guess?”

A deep breath left him as he looked you over for a second, clearly debating how much further he really wanted to venture into this conversation before answering with a shrug “give it your best shot”

You shifted slightly to better face him, picking your knee up and brining it onto the rooftop with you to fully look at the man before you, giving a dramatic hum before answering “Well the rooftop viewing is hinting at you being a bit of an adrenaline junkie, posture screams that you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, eyes tell me you’ve seen far too much tragedy in your time, dark scrubs to hide bodily fluid stains” you scrunched your nose up slightly at that, pointedly ignoring the man’s startled gaze as you continued “and finally zip-up hoodie to help you contend with both inside and outside temperatures when necessary. I’m going to go with ER doc”

You tried to bite back your shit eating grin as the man before you froze on the spot, his entire body seeming to go through a system-reboot before a shocked huff escaped him, his neck forcing his head to bring his gaze back to the city as a chuckle finally escaped him “alright that was impressive”

“What can I say it’s a gift” you shrugged humbly, taking another swig before continuing “plus Ethel on the second floor will not stop talking about Michael, the handsome ER doctor who’s single and would really benefit from getting to know a nice girl like me”

At that a real laugh spilled from his lips, his eyes casting up to the sky as he sighed, giving his head a soft shake as he did so “I didn’t realize Ethel was so worried about me”

“You are alone in the middle of the night on the roof drinking”

He snapped his gaze over to you at your words, throwing a pointed look at the bottle in your hands before raising a single brow.

“Didn’t you hear I’m a nice girl”

Another sharp exhalation through his nose, another soft shake of his head, another comfortable silence wrapping around the two of you.

“Robby”

“hmm” you hummed back the silent question, raising a brow of your own in response.

“Most people call me Robby”

“Y/N” you offered your own name in response, extending a hand to him “nice to meet you Dr.Robby”

He smiled at that, the first honest one you had gotten all night, before he slipped his hand into yours “It’s nice to meet you Y/N”

You were there again the next night.

Robby wasn’t sure whether he had been hoping you would be or not.

Originally he had sought out the rooftop for the quiet it would offer, for the solace of it all when things got too overwhelming, another person being there threatened to ruin that.

But for some reason in his head you didn’t really count against that.

“So does the alcohol and heights thing still apply if someone else brought it”

You threw your gaze over your shoulder at his words with a warm smile and he couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t seem at all surprised to see him there, couldn’t help but wonder if you had been looking forward to this as much as he had.

“You’ll have to tell me, I thought we had decided you were the expert here”

“I believe that is what you decided” he volleyed back, handing you one of the cans as he sat down beside you, watching you crack it open and take a sip, scrunching your nose up slightly at the taste before looking down at the label.

“Okay if you’re going to start supplying the beer for these we’re going to have to work on your taste” he tried not to attach too much weight to the implied invitation in your words.

“what’s wrong with these?”

“They’re so one note, so flat, so quintessentially IPA” you spoke with heightened dramatics and he couldn’t help but note just how much he appreciated the lightness of the conversation, the inconsequence of it all, the opportunity to finally talk about something other than the hospital. “I’m fairly certain if you were to look up wheat beer in the dictionary the entry would just be a photo of this can”

“So your problem with it is that it tastes like beer?”

You glared at him at that, Robby unable to fully bite down the smirk that grew on his lips at the expression “My problem is that it tastes like beer stripped of anything that could make it interesting.”

“So it’s not bad it’s just boring”

“That’s arguably worse”

“mm no I’m fairly certain I’d rather drink a boring beer than a bad one”

“You willing spent your own money on this swill you no longer get to have an opinion” he couldn’t help but laugh at that, shake his head slightly as you went on “It’s like coffee. You know when you brew it poorly, or use a shitty machine and instead of getting the subtle fruity or chocolate notes of the beans you just get bitter brown water”

And a part of him was almost excited to be the butt of your next joke, to reveal what he had to say next, something you seemed to be able to read in his eyes. “No”

“You’re going to hate me for this”

“Michael please”

He was grinning at the use of his first name, at the sheer desperation in your tone “I’m fairly certain the only coffee I drink comes from a ten dollar machine that’s as old as I am”

You reacted as if you had been physically struck, hand going to your chest as you winced “I can’t believe you’ve never had good coffee”

“I’ve had good coffee before”

“Never experienced a proper pour over”

“I just said that’s the coffee I drink day to day”

“Never taken the time to appreciate the subtle flavors of a good brew”

“Some days it’s just about the caffeine”

“I’m making you coffee for your next shift” Your words yanked him out of the conversation suddenly, his brain taking a few seconds to fully comprehend your words.

“Wait what”

“What time do you leave? 7? 8?” You steamrolled right through his confusion, the favor already a done deal in your head.

“No you don’t have to-“

“I’ll put it in a to-go cup for you” You cut him right off, the sentence coming off so matter of fact-ly it had him chuckling.

“If I’m rushing to work I won’t have time to properly enjoy it”

You shrugged at that, throwing him a cheeky wink as you spoke “guess you’ll have to stop by early then”

A silence settled over the two of you at that, Robby taking the opportunity to properly look at you for the first time that night as you gazed over the city. “Coffee snob, can’t stand boring food, old burns on your forearms. I’m guessing chef”

You grinned at him from his periphery and Robby found himself reciprocating the expression easily. “Ethel’s such a gossip”

He snorted at that, taking a sip of his drink, suddenly a bit more excited for what the morning held for him than usual.

You had tried to convince the rest of the kitchen you would be fine, that surely if you just held pressure against it for another ten minutes that the bleeding would finally stop on its own.

None of them of course believed you, but in your opinion it was a valiant effort that should be noted.

You’d at least been able to fend them off from trying to go with you, the poor kid who had accidently cut you looked like he was ready to carry you there himself with the way he carried the guilt of your injury on his shoulders.

But you made it to the PTMH on your own, packed into a waiting room holding more people than it felt like it was fire rated for, and finally taken back to a room after a doctor had caught sight of the shade of red you had stained the once white prep towel you had been using for pressure.

As you were led back a part of you wondered if you should ask for him. This was afterall his hospital, you probably could’ve been seen sooner if you had pulled that card. But was it really your card to pull? You’ve sat on the roof a few times with the man, made him coffee once, did that somehow entitle you to specifically request him?

And even if it did was that really fair? The staff clearly had a system in place, prioritizing, as they should, the most severe cases first you absolutely weren’t going to mess with that.

So instead you kept your mouth shut and followed the doctor who had introduced herself as Mckay and the med student Javadi back to a bed in the ED.

You sat up on the bed as you had been instructed, Dr.Mckay moving to the computer and typing away immediately while Javadi moved to prep a suture kit, the two working together in surprisingly good tandem.

“Now Y/N since this is a teaching hospital do you mind if I let my med student take over here?” Dr.Mckay asked with a comforting smile, gesturing to the girl who didn’t look like she was old enough to be out of high school let alone a doctor.

“No I’ll happily be your pin cushion” Javadi froze at your words, giving you a wide eye look before looking over at Dr.Mckay for direction who only laughed good naturally from behind the terminal and gave her student a small nod to continue.

The rest of the appointment passed without a hiccup. Javadi stitching you up like an absolute pro and sending you on your way with instructions on how to care for it and to see a doctor in a week to get them removed.

You had almost made it through your entire visit without seeing him when on your way out you heard your name being called from behind you.

With one hand still on the door you spun around to look at who had called your name, the rapid sudden movement making you lightheaded and slightly woozy on the spot, your legs starting to wobble beneath you.

Two strong arms caught your own before the world could tilt too much, the new grounding force as well as the stillness more than enough to keep you upright and centered to the spot.

The soft, brown eyes now staring deeply into your own, however, clearly hadn’t picked up on your newfound steadiness. Snapping sharply back and forth between your own, calling your name urgently as his grip on you tightened.

“Robby I’m fine” you tried to brush him off but the man before you wasn’t having any of it.

“What’s wrong are you-“ he paused suddenly, his thumb catching on the bandage on your forearm drawing his gaze down “are you a patient?”

“I was a patient” you corrected him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling your arms back from him “just a few stitches I’ve already been discharged”

“Few stitches and you’re feeling dizzy did they even have you on fluids?” He asked with a frown, barely listening to your “no” in response before he was pulling you into the nearest empty room by your hand.

“I don’t need fluids” you protested weakly as he ignored you completely, helping you up onto the bed and immediately going to the terminal in the room and logging in.

“Can’t believe they would send you on your way without any fluids who patched you up?” his complaint was spoken gruffly under his breath, just soft enough you weren’t entirely sure if it was a question for you or the computer.

“Robby please”

He finally paused at that, finally looked up at you and made proper eye contact, peering at you from above his glasses with a clearly displeased expression.

“Ask me the questions” His brows furrowed slightly in response, his head tilting ever so slightly to one side making you dramatically roll your eyes “fine I’ll do it. Are you experiencing any light-headedness, dizziness, or nausea?” You pretended to think on it for a second, humming softly before answering, ticking each response off on your fingers as you did so “no, no, and no”

Robby looked nothing short of completely unimpressed by your skit, merely raising a single eyebrow in response.

“I just turned around too fast” you tried to explain with no small amount of exasperation in your voice “world went off kilter for a second because of it but that’s it”

At that he sighed heavily, taking off his glasses and giving his eyes a tired rub before he straightened his posture, crossing his arms over his chest before gesturing down to your arm “what happened”

You huffed a little at how the words were less a question than a command “accident at work, got sliced by a knife. Bleeding wouldn’t stop so I came here”

He clearly wasn’t completely placated by your answer but let it slide anyway, taking a seat on a rolling stool and coming up next to you “can I see?”

Wordlessly you placed your arm in his hands, watching his fingers delicately undo the dressing Javadi had just wrapped for you minutes before. He took a deep breath once the stitches were unearthed, taking a moment to properly look at each of them as his thumb stroked softly back and forth over the skin around it.

“Stitches look good”

“Javadi did a good job”

His sharp gaze again cut up to you with a small frown on his face, his thumbs back and forth movement halting “you had a med student working on you”

“You just said she did good” you shot back with a tired laugh, a sound that finally had the corners of his lips tilting up.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Your own small smile dropped instantly at his question, at the rawness of it, the vulnerability.

“It was no big deal. I didn’t want to bother you with it”

“Bother me with it” he repeated almost bitterly under his breath with a shake of his head, pivoting slightly to reach for a new set of dressings, getting ready to start wrapping up your arm again before speaking louder this time “how long were you waiting out there”

You shrugged at that, choosing to focus your gaze down on your arm as he started to wrap it rather than the man himself “Not long, there were people who needed-“

“And yet you’re lightheaded from blood-loss”

He took in a sharp breath right after the words slipped out of him, Robby recognizing the sharpness in his tone before you could point it out to him and giving himself a deep breath to try and reset before continuing “Just- next time bother me okay. I don’t care how small it is”

“Okay” you agreed blindly, Robby seeming to notice your lack of attention and giving your wrist a soft squeeze, physically pulling your gaze up to meet his.

“I mean it. No matter what. You find yourself in the Pitt I want you to ask for me okay. Or Jack Abbot if I’m not here he’ll take care of you”

And you couldn’t help but smile softly at his concern, nodding along with him before repeating yourself with more conviction “okay”

He mirrored your smile with one of his own, giving you a nod before softly placing your arm back in your lap and backing up a bit, you having not noticed how close he had gotten over the course of looking you over. “Now you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine” you assured him “promise I’ll find the juice with the highest sugar content the minute I get back to work”

He smile fell instantly at your words, head going back into his hands as he groaned dramatically “of course you’re going back to work”

And you couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics “dinner rush, they need me. I’ll cut back though, won’t do anything with this arm scouts honor”

“were you even a scout?” His tone was nothing short of unamused making your snort.

“I’ll send someone by with dinner for the whole staff” you tried to distract him with a grin, Robby unable to bite down his own in response.

“At least tell me someone is coming by to pick you up”

“nah I walked here”

Another dramatic groan, one you weren’t entirely sure wasn’t fully for your benefit “You’re killing me here honey”

He started to stand at that, as if he hadn’t thrown your entire world off kilter again with a simple pet name, and started to take off his gloves “Text me when you make it back to the restaurant okay” he paused after that, seemed almost unsure of his next words before he forced them out “and come by mine tonight when you’re done I’ll change your dressings for you”

“I can change my own-“

“Let me” he interrupted with a soft a plea.

You couldn’t help but pause at that, to look the man before you over once, to note the sincerity in his expression before answering “I may be pretty late” you tried to warn him, playing it off like you were trying to get him to back down, fully knowing you were hoping he wouldn’t.

“doesn’t matter” his answer came quick and without any real thought behind it, as if the conclusion were obvious “I know where to get a good coffee if I need it”

“make a guy a cup of coffee once and all of a sudden he thinks he’s entitled to more” you teased with a smirk

He chuckled softly at that, hiding his gaze down in his hands briefly before looking back up at you “You’ll come right?”

“Yeah Mike I’ll be there”

A lopsided smile grew on his face at the nickname “good” he pushed the door open behind him and stood slightly off to the side to allow you to pass, letting his hand fall to the small of your back as you did so “now get out of here before I hook you up to an IV anyways”

You laughed off the threat. Ignoring the tingle left behind from his touch as he ushered you forward, not making it very far before a blonde woman in scrubs came rushing in, nose buried in a tablet.

“Robby there you are we have a-“ she cut herself off as she raised her eyes to the scene before her, her gaze zeroing in quickly on the hand Robby still had on your spine, on the closeness between you two, a grin that could only be described as downright wolfish growing on her face as she cut her eyes to meet Robby’s “this blue tumbler?”

You raised a brow at the question, cutting your eyes up to meet Robby’s only to see his cheeks starting to go pink as he ducked his head ever so slightly with a soft sigh “Y/N this is Dana, the only person able to keep this entire ED running in something resembling order, also the person who stole the coffee you gave me the other day”

Immediately you were grinning at the woman, relishing the way she was able to make Robby sweat from beneath her gaze “You tried it? What did you think?”

She took a second longer to pull her gaze from Robby, relishing the way he squirmed before her before she smiled warmly at you “best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had”

“Thank you!” You exclaimed in relief, giving Robby a pointed elbow in the side as you said it “this man doesn’t properly appreciate a good cup of coffee I swear. You ever been to Brewsters on Canton?”

She shook her head at your question, popping one hip to stand more comfortably as if she were settling into the conversation “that where you get it from?”

“Where I got he beans from” You nodded eagerly “you go on Tuesdays ask for Joey he’ll hook you up with the freshly roasted shit”

“Okay Dana did you need something” Robby cut in before she could respond in pure exasperation, sending the woman a silent glare that you couldn’t help but giggle at.

She seemed to bite back her own laugh as well, her smirk sent at Robby filled with mirth as she nodded “asthmatic kid’s family in asking to see you. Not an emergency I think they just got questions”

“Thank you Dana I’ll be right there” he sent her what was obviously a dismissal with a pointed glare, Dana taking the whole thing in stride and fading back from the two of you, never going too far and looking much too interested in her tablet to really be doing anything productive.

“I like her” You chuckled up at him, the corners of his own mouth tipping up despite his obvious best attempt to remain stern.

“Yeah that’s what I was afraid of”

You grinned back at him at that, reaching out almost instinctually to give his arm a soft squeeze as you started to drift towards the exit “alright doc I’ll let you get back to it”

“I mean it you feel even slightly dizzy I want you back here for an IV” he called after you, staying rooted on the spot as you parted.

“Aye yai cap” you mock saluted with a smirk “tell the woman eavesdropping in the corner I’ll send you in with a cup of coffee for her tomorrow”

“Thank you sweetheart” Dana called back with a grin, not even bothering to pretend she wasn’t doing exactly that.

You grinned back at her and with a final nod left the ED, the door barely swinging back shut behind you before Dana was beside Robby once again, the two of them watching the door close fully with vastly different expressions.

Dana chuckled under her breath, pressing the tablet in her hands to Robby’s chest as she clapped his shoulder and gave it a shake “you are so screwed Robinavitch”

Almost numbly Robby grabbed the tablet from her and peered down at it, barely noting the words that came out under his breath as he said them “yeah I know”

Dana cackled loudly at that, leaving her attending in his spot as she started to make her way back to the nursing station “oh I cannot wait to tell Abbot”

That seemed to knock Robby out of his stupor, his head whipping around to watch the charge nurse disappear around the corner. “Wait Dana”

Part 2

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mercvry-glow · 1 month ago

Text

Hey Lover

parings. jack abbot x younger!reader

warnings. age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s/early 30s), hospital setting, reader has a sprained ankle, reader isn't treated the best by the ed, nothing too serious overall, reader is considered to be bratty, some suggestive parts but it’s just comments between reader and jack, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I love jack and younger reader, I felt there was a lot of me in this one lol! since so many of you requested this hopefully y'all don't find her demeanor annoying, I read it as the reader is a bit scared and defensive knowing that the ed doesn't particularly like her for whatever reason. but as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated as always!

wc. 2200+

You could admit you weren’t the easiest person to get along with.

You liked your oat milk lattes extra hot, your lip gloss to match your water bottle, and your schedule planned down to the exact minute. You didn’t do chaos. And people around here—meaning, this godforsaken hospital where your fiancé worked twelve-hour trauma shifts—tended to mistake that kind of organization for being high-maintenance.

And Fine. You were a little high-maintenance. But you weren’t mean… And you definitely didn’t deserve to be sitting in some back hallway of the PTMC ER with your hair still in a claw clip, mascara running down your cheeks, and one ankle the size of a grapefruit.

You sighed dramatically, shifting on the gurney. Your baby blue workout hoodie was streaked with tears and did little to hide the shame you felt in this very moment. Your phone was cracked. And worst of all—your favorite pilates socks had blood on them.

Today was not your day.

“I’ve been here for forty-five minutes,” you muttered, crossing your arms and wincing when your movement tugged your wrapped foot. “And if one more person tells me to ‘just wait,’ I’m going to scream.”

The nurse behind the little desk—tight bun, tired eyes, and feeling high and mighty—didn’t even look up. “Ma’am, we’re triaging other trauma patients—”

“I am also a trauma,” you said, gesturing at your foot. “Just because it happened in pilates at 5am and not a bar doesn’t make it less traumatic. I heard a crack.”

From across the nurses’ station, someone mumbled, “No wonder Dr. Abbot keeps her a secret.”

You froze. The room spun a little, but not from the injury.

Jack.

You blinked hard, biting down on your tongue. You knew what they thought. What they always thought. That Jack Abbot—with his calm voice, sharp eyes, and salt-and-pepper curls—couldn’t possibly be serious about you. That you were too much. Too loud. Too shiney. Too young.

But he’d never made you feel like that. Not once.

You tucked your phone tighter under your arm and exhaled through your nose, preparing to wait another hour—until the door to another room swung open into the hallway.

There he was.

Jack in a white long-sleeve under his scrubs, his stethoscope around his neck, and his hazel eyes already scanning the room. When he saw you—half-dressed like a ladies health magazine, clutching a cracked phone and looking entirely out of place—his whole face changed.

“ Are you serious right now?” he muttered, storming toward you. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here?”

“She didn’t ask for you,” someone muttered.

Jack didn’t even look at them. He was crouched in front of you already, gently brushing his hand over your shin, checking the wrap someone had done.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you said quietly, lip wobbling just a bit. “It’s just an ankle. And, like… mild humiliation.”

His jaw ticked. “It’s not just anything if you’re hurt.”

“I fell trying to do that stupid split thing you like—”

He gave you a look.

“Okay, gracefully collapsed trying to do the split thing. And my instructor screamed, so then I screamed, and I cried in front of a room full of strangers.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I ruined my socks.”

Jack sighed and kissed the top of your knee, just above the bandage. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me home? Get me out of this place in a timely manner?”

His laugh was quiet but real, and he kissed you again, this time on the forehead.

Behind him, someone coughed pointedly. He stood, slowly.

“She needs a reevaluation. Now.”

The nurse gave a half-hearted “x-ray is backed up” shrug.

Jack’s tone turned colder than ice. “Then she’s priority after critical. Or get someone who cares and tell them why I’m walking my injured fiancée to get care, myself.”

That got people moving.

Jack helped you up, one arm tight around your waist. You clung to him dramatically, batting your lashes like you weren’t totally milking the attention—but under it, you could feel his heart racing.

“You okay?” you asked, glancing up.

His voice dropped low. “Not until you are.”

You smiled, a little smug. “Told you pilates was dangerous.”

He just shook his head, holding you closer. “I should’ve never let you sign up.”

“You didn’t let me. You said, and I quote, ‘try not to flirt with your instructor this time.’”

“Yeah, well. Next time I’m going with you.”

“You in pilates?” You snorted. “Please. Your hips are too tight.”

“I have very flexible hips, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Bed's ready,” a night shift nurse called.

You smirked at Jack. “To be continued.”

He groaned. “This is why they all hate you.”

You winked. “They only hate me ‘cause you love me, other than that I don’t know.”

And by the way he looked at you—like he’d walk through fire just to kiss you again—you knew you were absolutely right.

The space they gave you wasn’t fancy, but it was private. Probably borrowed from someone in observation or cleared just for Jack’s peace of mind. He didn’t say a word as he helped you onto the bed, tucking a blanket over your legs like you were made of glass.

“I’m not dying,” you said, wrinkling your nose as he fussed with your ankle.

“You’re really annoying,” he muttered. But his hands were gentle, steady as always, checking your range of motion and rewrapping your foot with crisp, even lines.

You watched him work, the little furrow between his brows, the tiny flecks of gold in his hazel eyes that always showed up when he was worried. His curls were a little messy, probably from running his hand through them a hundred times today, and his sleeves were pushed up, exposing the veins on his forearms you’d once drunkenly referred to as "your Roman Empire."

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“You’re so hot,” you replied simply.

Jack huffed but didn’t argue.

He finished taping your ankle and stood, brushing your hair back from your face. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s a sprain, not a break, but you need to stay off of it for at least a week. Actually stay off it, not your version of resting.”

“Which is?”

“Pilates in a boot.”

You grinned. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“I’ll cancel your gym membership myself.”

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I pay for it, try me.”

You didn’t win that stare-down. He kissed your forehead again instead.

“Get some rest. I’ll check in after I get off here in a few.”

You pouted. “You’re leaving me?”

Jack gave you a look. “I’m an attending. I can’t just disappear mid-surge.”

“Tell Robby I said please, I saw him walking around.”

That got a faint laugh out of him. “No more sass. Be good.”

You made an angelic face. “I’m always good.”

He was halfway out the door when you added, “And please ask someone if they can bring me an ice water! Or tell them you’ll do it.”

“I just said—”

You batted your lashes.

Jack muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, Jack was standing near the lockers, hands on hips, when Robby stepped in with two bottled waters and a raised eyebrow.

“Your girl okay?” he asked, handing Jack one.

Jack nodded, cracking the lid open. “Sprained her ankle trying to impress a pilates instructor, apparently.”

“Sounds like her.” Robby sat beside him, stretching his legs out with a sigh. “She looked like she was about to throw hands when the nurse offered her ice chips.”

Jack huffed out a quiet laugh. “That tracks.”

“She really hates being fussed over, huh?”

Jack shot him a look.

“Okay,” Robby amended, hands up in mock surrender, “unless it’s by you.”

Jack didn’t argue. He leaned back against the wall, letting the silence hang a minute before Michael spoke again—more careful this time.

“She’s got some… strong energy going on today.”

Jack didn’t respond right away. Just glanced down at the bottle in his hands, then back up. “You don’t have to pretend you like her, man.”

“I’m not trying to judge,” Robby said, more gently. “You know that. I just… never pictured you with someone so… you know.”

“She’s also the first person I’ve met who makes me laugh like hell and still checks if I’ve eaten when I forget to eat. And she always puts me first. Even when it costs her.”

Robby’s brow creased slightly, more thoughtful than anything. “I get that. I do.. She always asks if I’m looking after you, like I’m the one keeping you alive.”

Jack’s lips twitched. “You kinda are.”

“Okay, but—” Robby pointed a finger at him. “She brings you little smoothie things and reminds you to call your sister and randomly knows what you need on your worst days. I see that. Doesn’t mean I fully get her, but I’m not against her.”

Jack finally relaxed, his shoulders dropping a bit.

“She’s not always easy,” he admitted. “But she’s real. And when it’s just the two of us? She’s… soft. Like, the kind of soft I didn’t know I wanted. She brings out all this stupid shit in me.”

Robby tilted his head. “You’re kind of a sap.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jack deadpanned.

Robby smirked, bumping his shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Just then, a nurse poked her head around the corner, clearly amused. “Dr. Abbot? Your fiancée says she can’t find her lip balm and her lips feel like they’re about to crack. She says quote—‘You know the one I mean.’”

Jack didn’t even blink. “Little pink tube, side pocket of her purse. Tell her I’ll grab it.”

The nurse grinned and ducked back out.

Robby blinked slowly. “You really do know her inside out.”

Jack shrugged, already standing. “She’d do the same for me.”

As he disappeared down the hall, Robby watched him go, still smiling. He might not fully understand your dynamic—but he didn’t have to. Jack was happy, the girl loved him, and honestly? That was more than enough as a friend.

A bit later you had barely settled into your space—fluffy blanket over your lap, perfectly stacked hospital pillows behind your back, and a comically large cup a nurse had left on the tray—when a soft knock hit the doorframe.

You glanced up, lip gloss freshly reapplied despite the fact you were still in the hospital.

Michael leaned in with his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodue, looking not nearly as judgmental as you were expecting.

“Hey,” he said, voice lower than usual. “Jack’s finishing up his last consult, so I figured I’d check in. How’s the ankle?”

You gave a bright (but very practiced) smile. “Swollen, hideous, and humiliating. But I’m surviving. Thank you.”

Robby chuckled lightly, stepping further in. “Well, the good news is you’ll walk again.”

“Oh, thank god. I was already mentally rearranging my living room for crutches.” You paused, then added, “I promise I wasn’t being dramatic earlier. I just… hate being in here. Even not as a patient, hospitals just freak me out.”

His brow lifted slightly. “You hang around one enough.”

“Yeah, but usually I’m here with iced coffee and lunch for my fiance, not a bum ankle.”

He smiled at that, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “You really do come in like a hurricane when Jack’s on shift.”

You looked down, suddenly fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. Sorry if I’ve been too much. I know I’m not exactly… subtle.”

Robby tilted his head. “You’re not.”

You blinked, and he quickly added, “But you clearly care about him. And that counts for a lot.”

You looked up again, surprised.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he continued, more thoughtful now. “You’re different from what I imagined for him. But then I saw how he talks about you. How he looks at you.”

You felt your face heat up.

“He’s a lot lighter with you around,” Robby said simply. “Which is wild, because I didn’t even think that was possible.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “He’s not really the warm-and-fuzzy type.”

“No, but he’s yours,” Robby said with a small shrug. “And that seems to be working out.”

You stared at him for a second, then leaned back against your pillows. “So… you don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you,” Robby said honestly. “I just didn’t know you.”

You let out a soft breath, genuinely touched. “Well. You’ve officially been upgraded to my favorite of Jack’s coworkers.”

“That’s a low bar,” he quipped. “But I’ll take it.”

The curtain rustled suddenly and Jack poked his head in, curls messier than beforer and his hazel eyes immediately scanning you.

“You good?” he asked.

“She’s fine,” Robby said before you could speak, already backing up toward the door. “Being brave. And dramatic. But mostly brave.”

Jack gave you a long, warm look. “Dramatic is her default.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

Michael was already halfway out the door. “Later, lovebirds.”

Once it was just the two of you, Jack pulled up a chair beside your bed and took your hand.

“You okay?”

“I will be,” you said softly. “Especially now that I know your work bestie doesn’t think I’m a total disaster.”

Jack smirked. “You are a total disaster. But you’re my disaster.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“Shut up and kiss me, Dr. Abbot.”

And he did.

mercvry-glow 2025

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kilojulietsierra · 1 month ago

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So, now what? (Dr Abbot x Reader)

Just a little idea I had after watching the finale last night. (SPOILERS)

Takes place in the scene where the crew is having beers in the park. A little bit of Abbot x female!reader, a hint of Javadi x Mateo if you squint. Literally just a little blurb I had in my head before bed and thought i'd share.

~~~~~~

They all sat there, in a reflective, exhausted silence for a moment. VIctoria is the one that breaks it, "So, now what?"

There's a hesitant moment of silence, and then… laughter. They all laugh. Some a little more hysterical than others. Robby laughs the loudest, the day hitting him all at once, "Now, you go home. Go home and do… whatever it is you need to do to sleep tonight." He leans forward and rubs both hands over his face and chuckles again.

Mateo grins and gives Victoria a little look, not so subtly, "Comfy sweats and something funny on TV."

Beside him Donnie scoffs, "Hot shower, Mom's leftover lasagna and melatonin. I don't care if I fall asleep with my face in the plate."

The group laughs again. Then, soft ,almost like she's talking to herself Princess sighs, "Think I'm gonna put on some Forensic Files, have a glass a wine, and troll Tinder until I fall asleep on the couch."

"What about you boss man?" Abbot elbows Robby and takes another drink of beer.

"Me? Oh I'm just gonna go home, and go to bed. Try not to wake up until Monday." He sets his beer down so he can do exactly that.

Samira speaks up, "What about you Dr. Abbot?"

Jack takes a deep breath and nods, "I am going to go home, take a hot shower, heat up the dinner I was supposed to eat," He glances at his watch, "Four hours ago. Then I am going to make love to my wife until I pass out, and if I wake up sometime before seven am, I'll come back, check on my night shift gremlins, see if they need any more help."

While Samira and VIctoria are busy blushing and avoiding eye contact entirely, Jack and Robby cheers with what's left of their beer.

A black truck pulls up on the street between the hospital and the park. "Speak of the devil." Robby chuckles as he picks up his bag.

Abbot looks over his shoulder and smirks, "I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"Go right ahead, we've called each other worse." Robby smiles and stands up as the truck door slams behind them.

A pretty, young woman walks around the back of the truck in a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie, twirling a simple black cane in one hand like a baton. "So, my mama was right, only hoodlums hang out in the park after dark."

"Watch it." Donnie snarked back at her as she approached. Jack just smiled and finished cleaning the blood off his shoe.

Mateo waved, "Hey Mrs. A."

She met Robby half way and he wrapped her up in a big hug, "Hey trouble."

"Look who's talking." He teased her as he gave her an extra squeeze. "Make sure he takes it easy tonight."

"You know I'll try." Her voice was soft and maybe a little tired. Like she'd been patiently, anxiously, waiting to hear something, anything, while she had been stuck at home. "Take care of yourself." She rubbed his back as they pulled apart. As Robby walked away she walked over to the bench and squeezed onto the end next to Princess. "Everybody okay?"

For the most part everyone just nods, Princess leans her head on her shoulder and closes her eyes. Jacks wife just smiles and leans her own head against Princess's. "Anyone need a ride home?"

All around the group pretty much shakes their head, "I think we're goin' to hang out here for awhile Mrs. A." Matteo gives her a smile.

"Ok." She returns the smile like she gets it. She does. "How about you Doc?" She shifts her gaze to her husband in the bench across from hers.

He doesn't flinch under her gaze, he knows she's triaging him as they sit. She's looking at his posture, his eyes, his facial expression, he's already taken the prosthesis off and he knows that tells her a lot, "Waitin' on you." Jack gives her a grin and a wink.

WIth a nod she gives Princess a hug, it's awakard at their angle but they both smile. When she stands up she flips the cane end over end like she's done it a thousand times and holds the grip out towards him, "You want this or you gonna put that back on?"

Jack just groans, "Just help me up." He held his right hand out and she took it. They locked their hands around eachother's forearm and she set her feet to take his weight as she helped him up. He took his cane and leaned on it, not so sneakily watching her ass as she bent over to grab his backpack and hand it to him. "C'mere." He used her grip on the bag to tug her to him for a quck kiss and a little tap on the ass. Like he didn't think twice about the PDA in front of his coworkers he turned around. "You kids stay out of trouble. Go home and get some sleep." He gave each of the others a look, an easy smile as he shouldered his bag. "You did good today."

Beside him his wife grabbed his prosthesis off the bench where he'd stood it and gave everyone a wave, "Night guys." Then walked with Jack to his truck where she stood by as he opened the passenger door and climbed inside.

The others watched as she walked around the front of the truck, Jacks truck, and climbed into the drivers seat.

Samira watched as the truck started up and drove away, "That's Dr. Abbots wife?"

Donnie and Mateo both nodded. Princess spoke up, "She was his physical therapist at Walter Reid. Very young. Very sexy. Very scandalous." She chuckled at the other girls expressions and took a sip of her beer. "Don't worry, one of these days it'll be our turn."

Victoria might not have seen the slight blush on Mateo's cheeks, but it was there. Princess and Donnie shared a knowing looke, tapped their beer cans together in a cheers and sat in the dark, listening to the chatter and the sound of sirens running code 3 in the distance.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt fanfic #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbott #dr jack abbot x ofc #dr robby #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #victoria javadi #mateo diaz #donnie donahue #princess #dr robinavitch #dr. michael robinavitch

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private-witt · 1 month ago

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— Euripides, Herakles (translated by Anne Carson)

#the pitt #jack abbot #michael robinavitch #dr robby #rabbot #robby x abbot #dr. michael robinavitch #dr jack abbot #edit #tv

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heauxplesslydevoted · 2 months ago

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#yeah #the Pitt #noah wyle #dr. michael robinavitch

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aworldinsideaperson · 2 months ago

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Gala - Doctor Michael Robinavitch

Pairing: Dr. Michael Robinavitch x Charge Nurse!Reader

Plot: Dr. Robby and Charge Nurse!Reader, attend a fundraising Gala for the hospital.

Warnings: Age Gap (18-20 years)

Word Count: 3700

A/N: For the first time in almost a decade I could not stop writing until I finished. I have spent every spare second, stayed up past my bedtime, and hurt my back scrunching over my laptop for hours while I wrote a fic. I am really excited about this and I hope that other people enjoy this as much as I do. Even my bestie @ethereal27cereal who has not watched a moment of The Pitt enjoyed it so hopefully that’s a good sign!

Her idea of a good time after work usual consisted of fluffy slippers and her newest romance novel, her current read being a work place romance that made her feel weak in all the best places. To her a good time did not include shimmying her hips into a dress in the hospital bathroom after a long shift. But she was new, she wasn’t sure she could tell Gloria no when she insisted they NEEDED the new day shift charge nurse at the PTMC fundraising gala. In fact, Gloria was gone before she’d gotten any response at all.

So here she was, smoothing out the glittering fabric of a dress she’d never even imagined trying on, as she walked down the hall of the emergency department to grab the last of her things. The first voice she heard was Frank Langdon, a resident recently returned from a leave she hadn’t been nosey enough to ask about.

“You look… wow.” Was all he could manage, his mouth agape and eyes like saucers.

Y/N’s face contorted, eyes darting to Princess who sat at the computer closest to her.

“Is it too much?” She asked as a look of panic washed over her face. “I’ve never gone to one of these things but Javadi said it was kind of on par with what people typically wear and Cassie said it looked nice so I-” Her rambling was cut short by a whistle.

“Actually, I said it was hot and I was totally right!” The grin on McKay’s face seemed to only grow as she came closer to the small group that was beginning ot form at the corner of the nurses station. “Turn around;” She encouraged. “Give them the whole look.”

Y/N’s tight shoulders sagged, a small smile coming to her lips as she did a slow turn, revealing the low back with strands of cream pearls draping from one shoulder across to the other, then turning around again. Her eyes were glued to the ground, lips pulled in tight. A new voice letting out a soft “wow” causing her eyes to dart back up towards the sound.

“Well put Robby.” Langdon chuckles, patting his mentor on the shoulder as he passes by headed for his next patient.

A gasp comes from just down the hall. “Oh my gosh you look so pretty!” Mel exclaims, the smile on her face bright and genuine as she approaches the dwindling group of staff. Y/N whispers a small thanks, smiling at the sweet woman now before her. “And you look very distinguished Dr. Robby.” Mel continues, her head held high as she continued to smile at her attending.

“Thank you Mel,” Robby smiles, “ someone finally notices the old man in the very expensive rented tux.” He eyes the remaining crowd.

“Well comparatively, you’re not much to look at.” Matteo lets out a smooth laugh, grabbing a tablet and chasing after Langdon; catching him just as he was walking out of the patients room likely to get the tablet Matteo was handing him.

Y/N shuffles closer to Dr. Robinavitch. He was tall, with dark locks, sweet brown eyes, and she wondered if the beard felt as soft as it looked. She often had to talk herself down from reaching out to touch it. Especially now. Well groomed, it looked shaped and brushed and oiled. She thought about how smooth it’d feel against her skin. Surely a thought that would get her into so much trouble. Michael Robinavitch, nearly 20 years her senior, was handsome and sweet and kind and if she thought about it too much she might just break the careful wall she’s been building to keep her desires at bay. Yet she still reached out. Still slowly moved her hand over his shoulder. Lint. She’d explained to herself. Though looking at him with a sweet smile and a soft compliment, “Well I think you look great Robby.” She felt like she was on fire.

He smiled, eyes locking with hers, sounds of the emergency department dissipating to a low hum, “Thank you Y/N, but he’s right, you are the better looking ED staff.” He was quiet, as he often was with her, as if the two of them were in their own little world. Her thanks just as soft before the two of them turn to the remaining staff, all of whom pretending as if they were not just watching their interactions like some HBO romantic drama.

“Don’t be afraid to come get us if you need anything.” Robby’s voice loud, stressing the last word of his sentence.

“And he does mean anything. Need help with a bandage please do not hesitate to come get one of us, preferably me, from the very stuffy and exhausting event where we will be begging for money.” Her face pleading.

“Yes, and as the attending you should really come get me.” He stressed.

McKay rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to be getting either of you. Night shift is here soon we can hold down the fort until then.”

“I just really think one of us should stay with you guys. And as the attending it really should be me.” He was beginning to sound like a child, begging not to go to great grandma’s house.

It’s Collins, fresh out of a patients room, bump protruding as she places her hands on her hips. “Get out of my ED before I have you both banned from the property.”

“You can’t do that.” Robby insisted.

Cocking her head to the side, her smile dropped. “Wanna bet? I’ve got an in with the security around here.”

This caused Y/N to place her hand on Robby’s chest and gently direct him to the door. “Alright well I guess we’ll head out. Unless anyone needs anything last minute.” Making one last attempt to get their way thwarted by a chorus of “Get out!” from what seemed to be the entire department. Y/N shoots back a final “Have a good night guys.”

As they finally make their way out the door, Santos yells out after them. “Go get us some fucking funding!”

What they don’t hear are the chattering voices wondering. “Think they’ll make it the night without sleeping together?”

Or the responses of, “Fuck no.”

Together the two walked across the street in silence. Comfortable walking side by side, Robby offering his arm as they stepped off the ledge of the sidewalk and into the street. She moved slower than usual in the heels she’d donned but he didn’t seem to mind as he kept an eye out for cars and potential hazards until they stepped back up to the sidewalk in front of the event center.

That’s then that she froze. Face twisted and breath caught in her throat. “Are you sure this looks okay?” She asked, eyes trained on Robby who kept his glued to hers. “I know I keep asking I’m not fishing for compliments I just don’t want to make a bad impression and maybe ruin something good coming to the ED.” The words were rushed, pouring out of her as she spiraled into panic.

Robby took a deep breath, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. “Relax.” He began. Demonstrating deep breathes to encourage her own before continuing. “You look gorgeous.” His voice reassuring and her shoulders dropped, breathing finding a more normal pattern. “If it makes you feel better I’ve only been to like 2 of these and both times I threw up in the parking lot and we still got new chairs for the nurses station last year.” He let out a soft laugh, though from the look of mild distress he seemed to be telling the truth.

A wide grin spread across her face, eyes lighting up with joy. “So really so long as I don’t kill anyone they’ll let us keep our half working coffee machine?”

Robby laughed, a full laugh that shook into his core, a thing he seemed to do more and more the more time he spent around Y/N. “If you’re really charming they may even put name brands in the vending machine.”

Feigned horror and shock painted across her features before becoming stoic and serious. “There’s a lot riding on this then.” Her face cracked into a small smile and his heart stuttered.

“You’re gonna be great.” He assured once again, his thumb now stroking back and forth on her shoulder, the tips of his fingers grazing the skin of her shoulder. “Hell of a lot better than me probably why they invited you.”

Y/N looked at the older man skeptically. “I don’t know Robby, you’re pretty charming.”

“Only to you.” The words slipped, his smile dropping slightly as he finally removed his hand and turned to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

The doors opened into a large banquet room with high ceilings and chandeliers. Y/N wondered how much had been spent on this event while the hospital remained understaffed. It was a beautiful space and music filled the air around them, loud enough to hear, to spur some folks to dance, and soft enough to speak over. That was the purpose after all, speaking, begging, convincing people that their hospital, that the Emergency Department, was worthy of their donations. It’d be a long night.

Robby leans down, his lips closer to her ear than needed. “I’m going to grab us some drinks. Why don’t you find our seats.”

A quick nod and Y/N is setting off in the direction of the poster that seemed to be holding table assignments. Images of her best friend’s wedding nearly a decade prior flash through her mind. The last time she’d worn something so formal, been in such a beautiful space. She had 3 kids now and their once daily chats had dwindled to quarterly calls. She knew all about Robby though. She called after Y/N’s first week in the Pitt and she’d clocked then Y/N’s little crush. Called it sexy trouble.

Finding her way to the table she and Robby were assigned she thought about the phrase from her friend. ‘Sexy Trouble.’ Doctor Micheal Robinavitch was definitely sexy and the way she felt when he was close, so so much trouble.

He placed a glass of champagne in front of her and one in space beside her. Their table was empty, likely already mingling. “What’s our plan of attack?” He asked plopping down beside her.

“I was going to ask you that. You’re the one whos done this before.” Her face again began too contort, anxiety raising in her chest.

“Have you seen the state of the ED? I’m not exactly doing a great job.”

“You’re doing the best you can. Gloria and the board might not know that but even in these last six months I’ve seen it very single day. You’re doing the best you know how.”

Robby closed his eyes, taking her hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze. Looking into her eyes a beat of Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time reaches his ears. Smiling brightly he stands. “May I have this dance?”

“Only if you don’t mind me stepping all over your toes.” She laughs though she’s already standing, hand still holding tightly to Robby’s.

“I’ll take my chances.” Giving her hand another squeeze he leads her to the space a few pairs have made, swaying to the beats of an eclectic playlist. Robby’s hand slides over her hip to her lower back, palm burning into her exposed skin. “You know, they played this at my senior prom.” He laughed thinking back to Barbra Wilson, his prom date, and the atrocious white tux she’d begged him to wear with the pink cumberbund and tie.

An exaggerated look of shock came to her face. “Wow, it’s amazing you can remember that far back.”

Robby rolled his eyes and huffed. “Ha ha ha. I’m not THAT old.” He insisted, though the feeling in his lower back was making him think otherwise.

A grin spread across her face as she spoke. “I wasn’t born when you went to your senior prom.”

His face dropped, hurt painting itself across his features for only a moment. “Okay ouch.”

“It’s okay,” She began, settling her lips close to his ear to whisper. “I won’t call you a cradle robber if you don’t call me a grave robber.”

The air in his lungs stopped moving. Slowly his face turned, so easily their lips could have slotted together. If only the universe didn’t enjoy his misery. It’s Jack Abbot’s voice that breaks the fantasy. “You guys are here too? I thought I got roped in because you guys wouldn’t come.” He’s shoving a crab cake into his mouth as he speaks, a second still in his hand.

“What are you doing over here?” Robby asks, reluctantly pulling his hands from Y/N’s body.

Abbot eyes him then shrugs. “Gloria called me and it sounded more like a threat than an invitation so I came.”

As if to speak her being into existence, Gloria strides toward the three of them. The look of horror etched into her face growing deeper the closer she gets “You’re in your scrubs?” Her question stressed through gritted teeth.

Again Jack shrugs. “You’re the one who told me to get here ASAP. To me ASAP doesn’t involve changing.”

Her muscles tense a moment, eyes closing as she lets out a slow breath to calm herself. “Just go.” She breathes again, now turning toward the pair appropriately dressed for the event. “Robby, Y/N, I need you to come tell some people about the idea you had for chairs.”

Robby frowns, “The one you shot down 2 weeks ago?”

Gloria gives an exasperated sigh.“Yes. Let’s go.”

The two followed Gloria to a small group of unfamiliar faces and it’s nearly an hour and a half before they find themselves back in their seats, both well into their third glass of champagne, skin prickling with hope. They’d seemed interested in their idea. Their interest had sparked interest in Gloria and hope filled their chests. Maybe this would help, maybe tonight would actually make a difference. Y/N let her head drop to Robby’s shoulder, eyes closing as a new melody floated through the air. She sighed. “I love this song.”

Robby nudged her head from his shoulder and stood, holding his hand out to her. “Come on, I think my old bone have one last dance left in ‘em.”

She smiled, slowly rising from her chair and the pair made their way back onto the dance floor, now even less crowded than it had been earlier, and resumed their earlier positon swaying to Coldplay’s Yellow. Their body’s were pressed closer than they had been before; looking Robby up and down she huffed a small chuckle. “Why don't you dress like this more often? I could get used to this look.”

Robby laughed aloud, pulling her even closer to his chest. “Oh yeah I’ll just start running around doing intubations and chest tubes and shit in a shirt and tie. Hey maybe I’ll even wear suspenders and a white coat like that one guy you keep telling me I look so much like from your show.”

Her eyes grow wide, hands coming to gently slap against Michael’s chest.“Oh my God that guy from ER!” She exclaims. “I used to love that show. When I was growing up my mom and I watched it religiously. Dr. John Carter.” She looks at Robby wistfully. “Probably the reason I dated so many doctors in my youth.”

Again, he can’t help but laugh. “Your youth, as if you’re not currently young.”

“I’m 31, that’s the ancient for women didn’t you know? I’m half way in the grave.” She attempts to make her statement sound matter of fact though she’s hardly able to hold back her grin.

“Well I think you’re incredibly beautiful for being half dead.” Robby’s voice is soft, and her shoulders relax as she places her head against him. The space between them is quiet for a moment before his soft voice speaks again. “Is that what made you want to get into the medical field?”

“What?” She’d been lost in her own world, a fantasy where this was more than colleagues, more than friends. Just more.

“ER. With your mom?”

“Oh! No. Well not because of ER but because of my mom.” She takes a quarter step back, giving herself space, removing herself from the fantasy. “ When I was like 11 my mom got really sick and we spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was wrong. We were in hospitals all the time. I watched the nurses work really hard to make sure even if they couldn’t fix my mom they were doing everything the could to help. It left an impression on me now here I am 20 years later.”

“Did they ever find out what was wrong with her? Your mom?” His questions aren’t pushy or probative, they’re genuine, questions he wants to hear real answers to.

She nodded. “MS. But because her doctor didn’t want to run a test in the beginning it took them 10 years to figure it out and by then the window of relapsing remitting had passed and she’d moved into secondary progressive. She got really bad about 3 years ago then 8 months ago she died.”

Robby closes the gap, pulling her close against him again, both arms wrapping around her tightly. He adores his mother even at 50 years old he can’t imagine what it will be like when he loses her. “I’m so sorry.”

She smiles softly, her eyes dampening with a few tears. “Thank you. It’s why I’m here really. I needed to move. I needed to be somewhere different.”

“It might be bad to say but, under any circumstances, I’m glad you’re here.” Robby brings his hand to her face, his thumb wiping gently at a small shed tear. But she smiles.

“It might be bad to say, but Me too.” She once again rests her head against him as they sway through the last notes of the song and into the next, then the next and before they realize it the room has become close to empty and they begin to take their leave. Again Robby gives her his arm as they cross the street but he doesn’t let go once they’re standing on hospital property, not when they walk into the building, through to the parking garage. Not even when they’re standing beside her car.

Leaning up against the driver’s side door, Y/N fiddled with her keys. “Do you need a ride?”

Robby shook his head. “Nah I left my backpack inside and I’m like half a block away so I’ll make it.”

She nodded, her voice still low. “Well thank you for walking me all the way to my car.”

“Of course.” The air between them grew thick, Michael lifted his hand placing his palm against her jaw, thumb smoothing over her heating cheek. Staring deeply into her eyes he spoke hardly above a whisper. “It might be the champagne hitting me but God, I want to kiss you right now.”

“Maybe you should.” The words tumbled from her lips before she could think.

“Please don’t tease me.” He begged.

“From here you’re the one thats teasing.” That as all it took before Micheal Robinavitch was leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. A soft, tender, electrifying kiss turning into one of need and passion. Her hands gripped tightly to his lapel. The satin slick against her fingers as she pulled him closer. So much closer. Melting into his body as Robby wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her tightly against him and their lips and hearts synched and all the pieces around them began shifting into place.

A cough across the parking lot pulls their lips apart but they stay connected. Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, breath shaky. Y/N whispers. “I should head home. My shift starts at six.”

Micheal nods, not pulling away from her. “Mines seven.”

Still connected she smiles, pressing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow Doctor Robinavitch.”

He sighs. “Michael.”

“Michael.” For the first time in years prefers the sound of his name over Robby.

“Say it again.” He pleads

“Goodnight Michael.” She places another slow and tender kiss to his lips before finally pulling away and moving to get into her car.

“Goodnight Y/N.” The grin he keeps trying to hide is painted with her lipstick. He steps back, watching her drive away then leans up against the wall. Calming himself for nearly ten minutes after she’s driven away before he can walk back into the Pitt, before he can face his friend because Jack Abbot will know something has happened and he’s no ready to field those questions. Not when all he can think about is her.

It’s nearly five hours into their shift when a small group finds themselves standing at the desk, looking at the board. It’s McKay who speaks up first. “Has anyone else noticed how… chipper those two are?” Her eyes finding Robby and Y/N standing down the hall way, smiling brightly as they speak.

Princess nods. “Y/N has been humming the same song all morning.”

“Robby too.” Frank adds “It kinda sounded like Yellow by Coldplay but I didn’t think he listened to anything from this century.”

“That’s what I thought I heard from Y/N.” Javadi adds, hand up blocking the light from her still sensitive eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone with her mom the night before, or maybe she just shouldn’t have had so much champagne. Then her eyes grow wide, looking around the small group. “You don’t think they…?” Her question trailing off.

Perlah’s face breaks out into a grin, pure joy radiation from her face. “Oh for sure.”

Santos scrunches her noise, sending a dirty look to the nurse across the desk. “Well no collection until confirmation Perlah. I’m still holding out for his surprise party next month.”

Just then Y/N pops up beside them. “Keep it down about the party damn it!”

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blackwidownat2814 · 14 hours ago

Text

The reunion is definitely going to be...something.

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬—𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

description: It’s been ten years of holding it together — just you and your son, building a life from nothing. But when you walk into his ER in one of the worst moments of your life, everything you’ve carefully kept in place starts to unravel, taking you right back to rock bottom — remembering how it really began.

pairing: dr. michael robinavitch x female ob/gyn attending! reader

genre: hidden pregnancy…maybe? age gap (michael late 40s, reader mid 30s), female reader.

warning: graphic portrayals of a depressive episode, injured minor.

notes: i lied, it’s actually longer than the first one. Also, i wanted to thank everyone for their kind messages, they made me actually melt 💗💫

word count: 4 k

extra: moodboard | playlist | ☆:**:. 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 .:**:.☆ (ko-fi)

Feel free to #𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 (◕‿◕✿) *:･ﾟ✧ if you have any scenarios in mind! I might not write everything but I’ll respond to everyone.

series masterlist: 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

Just for an instant, a second really, everything appeared to stay still. You were both staring at each other with some kind of distant recognition that didn’t really feel right anymore.

Time stopped—or maybe it just cracked. For a second, all Robby could do was stare, breath frozen, stomach caving in on itself like the room had suddenly lost oxygen.

Everyone had seemingly gone silent, waiting for the other shoe to drop—for the story to wove itself in front of their very eyes.

Then everything moved at once.

The trauma bay around him hummed—orders being barked, the sharp beeping of a monitor, a pair of gloved hands reaching for suction—but it all blurred at the edges, sound thinning to a high-pitched whine, like air being pulled from the room.

But he looked at you, really looked at you. Breathing you all in.

And you looked exactly the same.

No, not the same. Older. Stronger. Tired in that way only a mother could be, like you’d carried the weight of a thousand nights with no sleep. But still you. Still you.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

You, on the other hand, were just frozen.

Like something inside of you had stopped working.

Like your brain couldn’t process what you were seeing, and your body was bracing for impact. Your lips parted, soundless, and your expression turned glassy. Like you’d just stepped on a landmine and heard the click.

Michael felt something inside his chest fracture.

Your eyes—god, your eyes—looked through him, then past him, then back again. Like you thought you were hallucinating. Like you wanted him to disappear.

His mouth opened. He didn’t know what he was about to say. Maybe nothing. Maybe just your name again, missing how it felt falling from his lips.

Maybe just please.

Finally, you stepped back.

No—stumbled.

Your hand shot out toward the edge of the table, missing it, and your shoulder hit the wall instead. "I—" you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. "I can't. I can’t do this right now."

And your voice broke on the last word.

He opened his mouth again, throat dry. "Wait—"

"I just—" your hands came up like you could block him out with your palms. "I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now. I can’t—"

"Hey, it’s okay, just—"

But you were already shaking your head, already turning, already backing toward the door with panic in your eyes like he’d set the place on fire just by existing in it.

You didn’t look at him again. Not really. Your eyes fluttered shut like it hurt to see him. Like his presence was too loud, too heavy, too full of old ghosts and wounds that never healed right.

"I’m sorry to interrupt," Whitaker said gently, stepping in at the exact wrong—and—right time. "They’re ready for us upstairs."

Robby didn’t blame him. Whitaker was just doing his job—by the book, probably didn’t even realize the air had gone thin with something heavier than oxygen. Still, Robby felt the moment rupture like tissue paper.

Of course, it had to be him. Of course, it had to happen like this.

You didn’t even look at him again.

"I have to go," you said. Firm. Final.

He reached for you, instinct more than thought. "Wait."

Gone.

The door swung shut behind you, and then it was just him and the echo of your voice in a room that suddenly felt too quiet.

Michael stood frozen. Stupid. Helpless.

He watched you vanish around the corner—following behind the gurney. Watched the back of your salmon-pink scrubs disappear into the chaos of the ER. Watched you leave him. Again.

But all he could see was you.

The way your hands trembled, like you didn’t know what to do with them.

The way you kept pressing them to your chest like you were holding yourself together from the inside out.

The way you walked—fast, clipped, stiff—like if you didn’t keep moving, you’d collapse.

He barely noticed the rest of the trauma team shifting back into motion around him, unaware that something tectonic had just cracked open right there between the trauma room and the nurses’ station.

Because the second you left, everything else fizzled out.

All he could hear was his own heartbeat. Slamming.

All he could feel was the ringing silence you left in your wake.

And all he could think was—She’s here. She’s real. She saw me. And she left.

And behind that, behind the shock, behind the confusion, something darker twisted in his gut.

That boy.

The boy on the gurney.

Michael staggered back a half step.

The timeline rushed in and hit him straight in the face like a brick. Ten years. Ten years since he left. Since he disappeared with nothing but a coward’s note and a bleeding heart.

You hadn’t told him. Not a word. Not a single whisper. And why would you?

He was the one who vanished.

He was the one who chose the silence.

And now here you were, thrown together by whatever cruel god governed the ER, with you looking like you were about to shatter and him finally realizing—maybe he was the one who broke you to begin with.

He blinked hard, his pulse racing, and looked again at the door where you and the kid had left through.

The math wouldn’t stop spinning. The way you looked at the boy. The panic in your voice. The grief.

God.

Is he mine?

The question hit him like a blow to the chest. He couldn’t breathe.

He thought of you walking away, your eyes filled with unshed tears, hands shaking as you whispered those few words.

He thought of that kid, gaunt and still, hooked up to machines, and the way he flinched when someone called out Mom.

It didn’t feel like fate. It felt like punishment.

Like every choice he made led straight to this moment—where everything he’d buried rose back up and God himself asked if he was man enough to face it now.

Michael didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

He just stood there—chest tight, stomach twisted, breath caught somewhere between guilt and disbelief—as the trauma team carried on around him, not seeing that he’d just been gutted from the inside out.

He stood there for a long moment, stunned. Then he laughed, under his breath, humorless and tired.

Funny.

The last time he saw you, he’d walked away without a word.

You didn’t stop walking. Couldn’t.

Not until the elevator doors shut behind you with a soft ding and the metal started climbing, floors ticking past too fast. Your hands were still shaking. You tucked them under your arms, tried to breathe through it, but it felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and replaced with something heavier. Thicker. Like you were drowning.

Beside you, Dr. Whitaker said something—not yet, hopefully soon enough—but it barely registered. You nodded because it felt like the right thing to do. The only thing you could do.

Then you were upstairs, in imaging. There were hands guiding your son into the MRI room. Gentle voices. Paperwork. Another nod. Another smile that didn't reach your eyes.

And then you were alone. Finally.

They told you it would be about thirty minutes, maybe more. Long enough to spiral. Long enough to remember.

So you sat.

The plastic chair outside the radiology wing creaked beneath you as you leaned forward, elbows on your knees, face buried in your hands.

You’d seen a ghost.

No—that wasn’t right. He wasn’t a ghost. He was real. He was there. The same hands. The same voice. The same stupid little furrow between his brows when he didn’t know what to say.

And he’d looked at you like—like he’d only just realized everything he left behind had a heartbeat.

Your throat burned.

Ten years.

Ten years of silence, of wondering if he was alive or dead or just fucking cruel. Ten years of birthdays and fevers and nightmares and firsts you had to witness alone. And then he just—appeared. In a trauma bay. In a pair of scrubs. Like it was nothing. Like it was everything.

Your eyes stung, but you didn’t cry.

Not now.

You’d already done that once.

ten years ago...

The apartment was too quiet.

So quiet it rang in your ears, high-pitched and shrill, like the aftermath of an explosion. The silence didn’t sit still—it crawled. Under your skin. Behind your eyes. In the space between your ribs, where your lungs refused to expand right.

It was never this quiet when he was here.

Even when you were asleep, there was always something—is breathing, the hum of the AC, his dumb phone alarms going off too early, his voice grumbling into her shoulder. Now, it felt…emptied. Like something had been ripped out, and the air still hadn’t settled.

The apartment felt hollow without him.

The walls pressed in—close, too close—like they were waiting for you to crack. You kept thinking that if you were to turn your head fast enough, you might catch them shifting. Watching.

The shadows moved wrong. The light hit strange. The floorboards groaned like they were in pain.

Your phone lit up. Then went dark. Lit up again. Dark again. Nothing.

You didn’t remember sitting down.

But you were curled up on the floor of your—your—bedroom, phone clutched in one hand, knees drawn to your chest, trying to make sense of the nothing he left behind.

Waiting.

Begging.

Please. Please. Please.

Not even a call. Not even a fight.

Just a note.

A fucking note.

Not even a period at the end.

Just gone.

Your hands had been shaking then, too.

You couldn’t cry. Not properly. It’s like your body wouldn’t let you—couldn’t. It held everything tight, like it was scared you’d unravel completely if it loosened its grip for even a second. So you shook instead. Buzzed like a broken wire.

Your brain kept folding in on itself fighting to understand what happened—why?

You’d tried everyone. His old roommate. Coworkers. That one friend from med school whose name you always forgot. But no one had heard from him, said maybe he needed space. Or maybe they had and were lying for him. You didn’t know which hurt more.

Time blurred together after that.

You’d called in sick. Voice hoarse. Hands shaking. Could barely get the words out to your chief resident.

She didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t even hesitate.

Just said, “Take the time,” like she already knew. Like everyone already knew.

And of course they did.

He was a junior attending in the same hospital—had been? They'd all worked side by side, shared vending machine coffee and overnight shifts and quiet glances in scrub rooms.

The day he left, he didn't just disappear from your apartment—he disappeared from the job, too. Vanished from badge logs and email chains. Left behind the kind of silence that carried weight. The kind that people tiptoed around.

They all knew before you did.

You could feel it in the way the chief spoke to you now—soft, deliberate, like you were a glass too cracked to carry water.

And maybe you were.

Because all you could think was: God, they must all think I’m pathetic.

Still showing up with his coffee orders memorized. Still wearing the same necklace. Still smiling like you weren’t about to be gutted out for everyone to see.

A resident falling for her attending—how fucking cliché. Tragic, really.

How many of them had smiled back, already knowing? How many had covered for him, lied for him?

You curled tighter into the blankets, the shame curdling in your stomach like bad milk.

Once a respectable doctor—a future star in her field—with her perfect pink scrubs, perfectly color-coded charts, and “good morning, everyone!” predisposition at six a.m., now reduced to a silence that soaked the walls of their apartment—your apartment—like mold.

The knock on the door came hours later. Or maybe a day. Time had stopped meaning anything long ago.

Had you eaten? Showered?

Had the sun come up? Had it ever been up?

You could taste metal in your mouth and bile at the back of your throat.

The world felt wrong in your bones.

You kept thinking maybe none of it had been real.

Maybe you’d made it all up. Maybe there’d never been a him at all—Michael, Robby, or whatever.

Just a ghost wearing his face, leaving behind traces of himself to fuck with you: the crooked toothbrush, the mug by the sink, the hoodie he’d probably forgotten in the dryer.

The knock on the door was distant. Like hearing it through a dream.

Then another knock. Louder. And finally, the scrape of the spare key jamming into the lock.

It was your sister. Probably.

Still, you didn’t move.

The door opened. Footsteps.

Then just a low mutter—"oh my god."

She didn’t say a word at first. Just dropped to the floor next to you and pulled you into a hug so tight it finally broke something loose.

She was warm and real. Smelled like home—and that cloying cinnamon Bath & Body Works scent she swore by. Too sweet, too strong. It hit your nose like a punch, and for a second, it almost made you gag.

"I don’t know what happened," you whispered. Voice hoarse from little use. Barely there.

"You don’t have to—"

"I don’t know what I did."

That cracked something.

The sobs came sudden and raw, like your body had been waiting for permission. Like your cells had finally given up.

"I—I woke up and he was just gone."

She held you like she used to after you had a bad nightmare. One hand buried in your hair. A slow rock. Whispered words that didn’t matter, because it wasn’t about the words—it was about being held together by someone else, because you couldn’t do it by yourself anymore.

"He didn’t even say goodbye."

"Then he’s a fucking coward," she murmured. "You didn’t do anything wrong."

But your body disagreed.

Everything hurt. Your stomach curled tight into itself. Your skin buzzed. Your bones ached. And your head pounded in a slow, steady throb that never let up.

You muttered, "I feel sick."

"You look sick," She said, pulling back just enough to study her. "You’re pale as hell. Have you eaten anything?"

"I can’t. I keep throwing up."

The words made her sister still. Brow furrowing. Concern slowly creeping in as she watched you.

But she wasn’t really there anymore.

You were staring. Blinking. Staring again.

Because when you looked at her—really looked—someone else took her place.

The eyes. Those same eyes.

Dark brown. Deep and unreadable, but soft in that specific, sickeningly familiar way. Like melted chocolate in sunlight. Like every time you’d caught him looking at you during early rounds, like he could see right through you and liked what he saw.

His eyes.

Right there, on your sister’s face. And it didn’t make sense. It didn’t have to. Logic had left the room days ago.

Your breath hitched. The nausea came back all at once, brutal and specific.

Not just grief. Not just panic. Something else.

Your hand went to your mouth as the room spun. You shoved yourself up and stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time.

The cold tile was unforgiving as you dropped to your knees, your stomach lurching so violently it knocked the breath from your lungs. Bitter, sour heaves wracked your body—nothing left but acid and air.

You clutched the edge of the porcelain like it was the only thing keeping you upright, the only thing keeping you here, in this reality. When your forehead met the cold porcelain, an involuntary sigh slipped out—half relief, half despair—followed by shallow, stuttering breaths that scraped against your ribs.

Your sister followed—quietly, gently—and was behind you in seconds, no questions and no hesitation. She moved like someone who had done this before. Who had been here before.

Without a word, she gathered your hair, pulling it back with practiced ease. One hand rested steady on your back, the other stroking slow circles between your shoulder blades.

"I’ve got you," she murmured. "Just breathe."

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Your whole body trembled—not from effort, but from something deeper. Something bone-deep.

Eventually the wave passed. You coughed, spat, and flushed. Tried to rinse the bitterness from your mouth with shaking hands, but your limbs wouldn’t cooperate.

So you just sank back onto your heels, arms limp, forehead pressing against the cool wall beside the toilet.

Your sister knelt beside you. "Are you late?" she said quietly, voice low but edged with something cautious.

Silence.

"And now this."

You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

She shifted closer beside you, hand still holding a light grip on your arm. "Hey. Look at me."

You turned.

And there it was again—that look. Worry, yes, but something stronger.

A mirror of a fucking mirror.

Because your sister’s eyes were dark. Chocolate brown. Just like his.

The realization hit like a bruise from the inside out. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes locked on the color you hadn’t been able to stop seeing.

The exact shade.

Your sister’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering, then concern. "What?"

But you didn’t answer. Couldn’t explain. Could only look.

Because it wasn’t your sister’s face you were seeing—it was his. Not fully, not clearly. But there. In the eyes. In the color.

Same warm brown. Kind. Deep. Unmistakable in the sunlight.

And for one terrifying second, it was like time bent sideways, and you could already see it.

Those eyes on someone smaller. Someone impossibly familiar.

You dry-heaved again.

But there was nothing left.

Your sister reached out instinctively, steadying you, voice still soft. "Babe…I think you might be pregnant."

The words didn’t echo. They detonated.

The world tilted. The shadows closed in. The silence wasn’t empty anymore.

It was loud.

A voice broke through the quiet. "Miss?"

You blinked up. Whitaker—scrub pants too short, scuffed badge, steady blue eyes—stood in the doorway, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Uh—hey. Sorry, I—um. The scans came back. No internal bleeding. The head MRI’s clear, no swelling. They’re planning to keep him overnight just to be sure, monitor for delayed stuff, but… he’s stable. He’s okay."

The world tilted again. This time in relief.

"Thank you," you breathed, voice cracking, hands pressed to your chest. "Thank you so much."

He nodded—then hesitated, chewing his lower lip. "There’s just… one thing. There’s no open bed upstairs yet, so they’re going to keep him down here for now. In one of the trauma bays. They’ll curtain it off, make it private. Just temporary."

You nodded without thinking—until it hit you.

Trauma room. Downstairs.

Your stomach clenched on reflex.

Fuck.

Robby was still down there. Which meant you’d all be in close proximity. Same hallway. Same noise. Same oxygen. Which also meant having to talk to him at some point during your stay.

You weren’t a monster. After today, after everything, you couldn’t just slip away without a word. That wasn’t who you were. You refused to be.

But holy shit—why now?

You rubbed your face with both hands. Tried to push the day back, like maybe if you pressed hard enough, it would stop sinking its teeth into you.

It felt like too much. Too soon.

You could picture him already—playing in the nurse’s stations, standing near the room with his arms crossed.

Probably rehearsing what he’s going to say. Probably thinking too much. Or not enough.

Just watching and waiting for the right moment to step in and wreck your life all over again.

He’d come in with that voice—low but tight—and try to stay calm, but you’d hear the cracks in it. You’d feel the weight of everything unsaid pushing through the seams.

He wouldn’t yell. He wouldn’t have to.

He’d just talk, and somehow it would still feel like an accusation.

Like he was grieving something you took from him. Like you’d been the one holding the clock all this time.

Every sentence would be punctuated by a move of his hands—cutting through the air, trying to explain nine years of silence like it could all be mapped out in a few breaths.

You’d sit there, swallowing the heat in your throat, thinking—you left.

But it wouldn’t feel like a win.

It wouldn’t feel like justice.

It would just feel heavy. Sad. Like two people holding the same loss from opposite ends and breaking under the weight.

In the end, when there was nothing left to say, he’d take off his glasses and sigh—like that would make it all go away. Like blowing the air out of his lungs might somehow undo the last ten years—the same way he always did after a bad call earlier in the shift, when guilt started to creep in.

You hated that you remembered that.

You hated that part of you was waiting for it.

You breathed in, shallow. Let it out slow.

Okay. You’d do it.

So you nodded again, carefully this time, like the motion might somehow make the pieces of your life come apart.

Whitaker seemed to notice, but didn’t push. "You’ll be able to see him soon. They're just finishing the last few checks."

You sank into the nearest chair before your knees could give out entirely.

Whitaker hovered awkwardly for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should leave—then sat beside you with a quiet breath, clasping his hands between his knees. "You look like you’ve been through it today."

You let out a shaky, humorless laugh. "That obvious, huh?"

He offered the faintest smile. "I mean… I’ve only been here six weeks, so I don’t really have a baseline. But yeah. Kind of."

A small silence stretched out. Not awkward. Just there.

Then he glanced at the ID still hanging around her neck. "You a doctor?"

You blinked, like you’d only just remembered you were wearing your scrubs. "Yeah. Attending. OB/GYN."

"Ah." His voice softened. "You work here?"

You shook your head. "No, St. Luke’s. But I know some of the attendings here, sometimes I get called in for high-risk emergencies."

"Cross-trained?"

You nodded. "Emergency med. Just enough to be useful when everything goes sideways."

"That’s kind of badass." He let out a quiet whistle. "Bet you’re good in a crisis."

You huffed a sound that might’ve been a laugh. "Usually better than my own."

He nodded like he understood. "And your little guy—how old is he?"

"Nine." A smile tugged at your lips despite everything. "Well. Nine and a half, if you ask him."

"Good age."

"Yeah," you said quietly, "he’s a good kid."

"Was it just the two of you today?"

"Yeah. We were headed to—"

You froze mid-sentence, eyes wide.

"Oh my God," you whispered, scrambling for your phone. "Show and Tell."

"What?"

"Career day. It was today. I was supposed to talk to his class about my job—he was so excited—I have to call the school—"

You fumbled to unlock the phone with trembling fingers, heart suddenly thudding all over again, but in a totally different rhythm. Whitaker didn’t stop you. He simply reached out and rested a hand on your arm, grounding.

He just hesitated—and then, gently, offered, "Do you want me to get someone? Or… I can just sit here."

You shook your head, already scrolling. "I just—I have to let them know. His teacher. So they don’t think we just didn’t show."

"I’m sure they’ll understand."

"I know. I just…" Her voice cracked. "He was so proud. He kept practicing how to introduce me."

She swallowed hard, staring at the screen like it might swallow her back.

"I promised I’d be there."

Because that’s what you do, right? You promise. Even when there's nothing left to give.

next chapter ↠

taglist: @snowflames-world, @nosebeers

#Series: I Look In People's Windows #Dr. Michael Robinavitch #Dr. Robby #Dr. Robby x you #Dr. Robby x reader #Dr. Robby x female reader #Dr. Robby fanfiction #The Pitt fanfiction

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