Chapter Text
Dana found him an hour later, still rocking baby Jane Doe, eyes closed and body gently swaying as she slept on his chest.
As though he could sense her there, leaning against the door frame and watching them, Robby said softly, “I’m gonna take her home with me.”
Dana let out a hushed bark of laughter. “Right, hotshot. Just gotta do all the paperwork first.”
“I’m already an approved foster, Dana.”
“Sure ya are. And since when-” she stopped, face morphing from sarcastic fondness to sad understanding. “Jake,” she said quietly.
“Jake,” Robby agreed. “If anything ever happened to Janey…”
“He’d get a kinship placement with you.”
“I get it renewed every year, just in case. Better safe than sorry, right?” He chuckled, the sound painful. “Not that he’d want to live with me anymore anyway.”
“I thought things were getting better, with Jake.”
If Robby sniffled, just away, Dana was polite enough to ignore it. “Sure. Better. Sends me a text once a month. Can't bear to be in the same room as me any more. Reminds him too much of-” He stopped, shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s all approved. I got ahold of Sarah at family services. Everything’s filed.”
Dana finally stepped fully inside the room, her eyes pinched with concern. “Listen, Robby…”
He quirked a brow at her. Dana hesitated, clearly trying to choose her words carefully. “I know I was tryin’ to give her away like a stray kitten, but… that’s a real human baby. A little person who’s already been abandoned once. And a few hours ago, it seemed like you were gonna-”
Robby didn’t supply her the words, not giving her a break or an out. Dana dropped her head in her hands, quietly sobbing the words, “I thought you were gonna kill yourself, and there was nothing anyone could do t’stop it.”
He was a bastard, but not that much of a bastard. Robby crossed the short steps between them and wrapped his arm around Dana’s shaking shoulders, pulling her close. She pressed her face against his ribs, as though drawing comfort from the living warmth of him.
“Dana.” He waited until she had collected herself enough to look up. “I’d never do anything to endanger someone else.” It was spoken with a kind of unshakable truth that they both accepted. Robby was fucked up - anyone who looked for longer than thirty seconds could see that - but he would never endanger others.
Only himself.
Dana studied his face, double checking what she saw there with what she knew intrinsically to be true. Then she sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. I know.” She pulled back, putting a step of space between them when she added, “but Robby, a baby isn’t gonna fix this.”
Robby nearly choked on a laugh, catching himself and trying to smother the noise of it so he didn’t disturb Jane. “Oh trust me, I know.” He looked down at the tiny, sleeping face, trusting him so implicitly. Trusting him to care for her, keep her safe, do the right thing. “It’s just for the weekend. A healthy, perfect little girl - she’ll have fosters lining up come Monday morning. Adopters, too, even with the uncertainty of parental rights and the slog of trying to get full custody. I’m not a final stop for this little one. Just a soft place to land for a few nights.”
The sigh of relief Dana let out was obvious. She gave Robby a tremulous smile. “Whatever gets her out of this hell hole,” she said with a shrug. “And keeps you around another few nights.” Another pause. “You’re staying, right? Can’t go on that death trap of a motorcycle with a baby strapped to your chest. No ‘bash-your-head-in-Alberta’?”
“Not for now,” Robby hedged.
“I’ll have to take what I can get, I guess. You’d tell me, before you left again, right?”
There was a long pause, and then Robby sighed. “Have you talked to anyone, Dana?”
“I’m talkin’ to you.”
“You know what I mean,” Robby said gently. “About what happened to you. The hypervigilance is a symptom. You know that.”
“Is it hypervigilance if it’s necessary? If it saves my life someday, the life of one of my nurses?”
Robby sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I wish to god that I could say you don’t have anything to be afraid of, but we both know that’s not true. And I hope that, under all our bluster, you know that I’m on your side - always. But I’m trying to look out for your future as well as the present. You and I both know that coked up asshole would’ve deserved it, even if the sedative had done damage. But if he’d sued, it could have put you in-” He shook his head, then tried a different tactic. “How do you think that girl would feel, if you lost your license protecting her?”
That, at least, made Dana pause. The problem with friends is that they knew you well enough to know where to apply the thumbscrews. Where to make it count, where to make it hurt. “What should I have done, then?”
“I wish I had the answer, Dana. I really fucking do. If I was always gonna be here to sign off on it, to have your back, maybe I’d be applauding your quick reflexes and your right hook. But I’m not always gonna be here.”
Another long pause. Dana sniffed again, composing herself. “Well then, you need to be. Until I can sort my shit out. Or we can get more fuckin’ security in this place.”
“Dana…” He closed his eyes, the pain in his face a visible, tangible thing. “I’m so - tired.”
“Yeah, well, you got responsibilities. To her, for the weekend. To me, for a while after that. I bet there’re a helluva lot more, if you care to look. So buck up, Robinavitch. You’ve never let us down before, and I’m trusting you not to start now.”
“I don’t think ‘guilt the suicidal man into living’ is in the mental healthcare handbook,” Robby muttered.
“Yeah, well you’re not just some random suicidal guy. Think I’d be letting you walk outta here with a baby if you were? Most doctors, they’ve got a god complex. But you, Robby? You’ve got a savior complex, and it sure as hell isn’t the same thing. You’ve been trying to save the dying for too many years. You need a chance to save the living, for once.”
And maybe she was right.
***
Dennis
***
Dennis finished the morning chores while Amy fed the baby. Once Theo was settled, she’d put together a big breakfast for the two of them, just like his mom used to for his dad. He’d originally planned to stick around, help replace the gate on the corral that had been damaged, but he figured he should get to town and check out Robby’s place instead.
His talk with Robby had him rethinking staying out at the farm for long periods of time, anyway.
He wanted to help. He liked helping, and he liked being on the farm, being useful, fresh air and hard labor and the simplicity of knowing exactly what was coming next. When he could go at his own pace, listen to his body, rest if he needed without being mocked or punished for it, he found the farm work incredibly rewarding. He loved playing with Theo, too, who reminded him of all the babies that had always been around the house back home. He loved watching Amy mother him, showing so openly the purest kind of love that existed in the world. It made something in his chest ache, a kind of longing that he couldn't properly describe.
But maybe he’d been a bit selfish. Because in trying to support Amy, he’d given her an excuse not to fall back on her actual support network. Her parents, her siblings, her in-laws. And if people he worked with thought there was something romantic between them, then what must the people in Amy’s life think?
That she had moved on already? That she was replacing her husband?
Knowing it wasn’t true didn’t protect her from other people’s assumptions. He knew first hand just how critical people could be. It wasn’t fair to her that just because he wasn’t openly gay, everyone would believe they were sleeping together. Was he doing more harm than good?
He tried to ignore the surprised look on her face when he told her he’d be leaving after breakfast. Said she ought to call her brother to look at that corral gate. Maybe his wife would come too, bring her toddler. The little girl and Theo could play together while the women chatted. Amy swallowed hard and nodded.
One task down.
Next, Robby’s. He had the address, the code, and the key. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult to take care of the place. Robby didn’t strike him as much of a plant guy. And with Trinity having finally admitted she liked living with him - even if she called him a fuckleberry while she did - he figured he’d just pop in and make sure the place was all in one piece.
Robby trusted him, and Dennis wouldn’t let him down.
He double checked the code three times when he put it in, not wanting to set off the alarm the first time he came. Thankfully, the system flashed twice and showed off and he let out a quiet sigh of relief. He kicked off his shoes and turned around, and nearly shrieked.
There was someone in Robby’s living room.
He blinked, as his heart hammered in his chest.
There was Robby in Robby’s living room. Looking terrifyingly still and pale and there was something on his chest and Dennis rushed to him, pressed his fingers desperately against Robby’s throat, holding his breath-
“What the fuck-” Robby swung upright, his arms tightening around the bundle on his chest as he squinted at Dennis.
“Oh thank god,” Dennis breathed, stumbling back and falling onto his ass.
“Whitaker?” Robby pressed the heel of his hand to his right eye and rubbed, then blinked, as though it would change the scene in front of him. His other hand stayed on the bundle on his chest. A bundle that started to squirm.
“S-sorry, sorry! Did I get my days mixed up? I thought you were leaving last night and I was supposed to check in on the place today and is that a baby?”
Robby shook his head, and Dennis tried very, very hard not to think of how cute it was that his boss had a hard time waking up in the morning. It was such a human trait on a man that always seemed so larger than life to Dennis.
“Okay, slow down there kid. No, you didn’t get it wrong. My plan changed and I forgot to text you and let you know. Bit of a last minute thing. And yes, this is a baby. The baby.”
“The Jane Doe from yesterday?” When Robby nodded, Dennis blinked and then said stupidly, “but you said no babies.”
Robby barked out a laugh, gently shushing the stirring infant. “Rules for the house sitter are different from rules for the tenant.” He pushed to a standing position, groaning slightly. Dennis winced in sympathy. Even his back would ache after falling asleep in a chair, and he was a full two decades younger than the other doctor.
Jane had come fully awake now and was making her hunger known. Dennis noticed formula and a collection of bottles on the counter to his right. Robby started toward them, but Dennis beat him to it. “Here, let me. These have been sterilized, right?”
Robby nodded and let Dennis pour a small amount of distilled water into the bottom of the bottle, then add the powdered formula, then the rest of the water. He screwed on the top and shook it up, resulting in a frothy, homogenous mixture. After tapping it on the counter a few times to settle the bubbles, he handed it to Robby.
Who was looking at him with both brows raised. “So that’s how you keep the powder from seizing up, huh?” He shifted Jane from his chest down to the crook of his elbow and brought the bottle to her lips. She latched on instantly and began to suckle.
Dennis shrugged. “Kinda got stuck on bottle duty a lot when I was growing up. There’s an art to it.”
“Clearly.”
There was a lull in their back and forth, and Dennis found himself drifting forward, to get a better look at the baby as she ate her breakfast. She was perfect in the way that all babies are. Plump cheeked, wide eyed, and so sweet it made Dennis’s chest ache. He stroked one finger over her rosy cheek very gently and couldn’t help his smile.
“So, uh, this is a thing? You and the baby?”
“No,” Robby said immediately. “Just through the weekend. Family services will have a proper foster lined up for her by Monday. I just… couldn’t leave her there.”
Dennis knew his face had softened into something tender and likely highly unprofessional, but he couldn’t help it. Robby was basically his idol. A crush he kept deeply, deeply smothered, someone he looked up to and wanted to emulate and only occasionally fantasized about.
Seeing him at home, in sleep pants and a t-shirt, with a baby in his arms, was just… Jesus, it was almost more than Dennis could bear. The man had to have some damn flaws, surely. He couldn’t be super doctor, and a supportive teacher, and chill boss, and DILF material. It wasn’t fair. Dennis wanted to lodge a complaint somewhere.
His eyes drew across the skin of Robby’s forearms, so rarely bare, and took in the sight of the dark hair there, the cords of his muscles. Robby wasn’t a particularly beefy guy, but he was all long, lean muscle from his years in emergency medicine. Following the line of his arm across the firm curve of his bicep, to the jut of his shoulder, then to the V of his shirt where long, fine strands of his chest hair curled over the collar…
What the fuck - not here, you moron!
Dennis was standing in his bosses living room with a chub, while the man held a fucking baby. Jesus, Dennis was perverted. He backed away.
“That - uh, that’s really good of you,” he said, praying his face wasn’t crimson. “To take her in, I mean. Does this mean you’re not taking that trip? Don’t need a house sitter?”
Robby studied him for a moment, and Dennis felt a bit like a bug under a microscope. He couldn’t quite parse out the look on Robby’s face. It almost seemed sad.
“Haven’t really decided yet, to be honest. Seems like I’ve got a few things here to wrap up before I go. Might have to stick around a bit longer. Mind if I keep you sort of on standby?”
“No, yeah, of course! I’m here for - whatever you want. I mean, whenever you need me. To house sit. After you’re gone. Or if you’re busy. Babies take up a lot of time.” Stop. Speaking. You. Idiot. Dennis forced his mouth shut.
Rather than calling him a blathering moron, Robby gave Dennis a soft sort of smile and nodded. “Thanks. I might just take you up on that. Since you seem to be the expert on babies, and all.”
“Happy to help,” he said quickly. “Any time, really.”
Robby nodded, and Dennis took that as his cue to make a swift exit. He allowed himself one last look at his unfairly hot boss and then turned away, only breathing properly again when the door was closed behind him. He pulled out his phone, needing to share the surreal experience.
***
Trinity
***
Huckleberry 8:26 - You’ll never guess who I just ran into
Huckleberry 8:26 - Dr. Robby’s still here
Huckleberry 8:27 - I’m actually a little relieved
Huckleberry 8:27 - the way he offered me his place yesterday was a little Seven Pounds 😅
Huckleberry 8:29 - I guess he’s got a reason to stick around for a few days now. Ten bucks says you can’t guess what
Huckleberry 9:55 - I’m just about done grocery shopping. Want me to bring breakfast?
Huckleberry 10:07 - just how much did you drink last night?
Trinity groaned as she rolled over and snagged her phone from the nightstand. The battery showed an angry red 3%. Fuck, she’d forgotten to plug it in the night before. She’d had way too much to drink. But what a bitch of a day. Seriously. Scream therapy with Mel and half a dozen shots of tequila had been exactly what the doctor ordered. Even if the doctor felt like walking death at the moment.
She squinted at the barrage of texts from Dennis, barely able to keep her gummy eyes open. Fuck, she needed some water. She blinked to try and work out the grit, then looked at the phone again.
Something cold jerked in her belly.
Seven Pounds?
Her hands shook, and she couldn’t even try and convince herself it was just the hangover. The previous day was coming back to her in jarring flashes, things she’d been too focused on her own misery to really pay attention to.
Just like last time.
She barely had time to lurch into the bathroom before she vomited, emptying her stomach into the toilet bowl.
Not again.
She remembered the shouting match she’d overheard between Robby and Dana. Remembered the way he’d seemed manic about making sure the Pitt would be fully functional without him. Remembered seeing, out of the corner of her eye, Dr. Abbott speaking to Robby, and then Robby looking red-eyed and resigned when he walked out.
No no no no
10:21 - what EXACTLY did he say when he offered you his place?
Huckleberry 10:22 - well goodmorning to you too, sunshine. I’m picking you up pancakes, btw, you’re welcome
10:22 - fuck pancakes. WHAT DID HE SAY
10:22 - WORD FOR WORD
Huckleberry 10:25 - sheesh, fine
Huckleberry 10:26 - he said that I’d be doing him a favor watching the place
Huckleberry 10:26 - that he would have asked Abbott but Abbott does early moring naked yoga
10:27 - THE LAST BIT, DENNIS
10:27 - THE SEVEN POUNDS BIT
Huckleberry 10:28 - really? Not even gonna bat an eye at the nude yoga, huh?
Huckleberry 10:29 - he said something like ‘and if I don’t come back, you get a swinging bachelor pad.’
Huckleberry 10:29 - I’m sure he was just joking. I wouldn’t move in there even if he decided to move to canada or whatever-
Trinity didn’t bother reading the rest. She pulled on a hoodie, not bothering to fix it when she realized it was inside out. Shoved her bare feet into her chucks and grabbed her keys from the dish by the door.
The bright morning sun hit her eyes like a ball-peen hammer to the forehead, but she dashed out to her car anyway, ignoring the pain. Or maybe feeling a little like she deserved it. How could she be so stupid? How could she see all the signs and just not put it together? How could she do the thing she’d sworn would never happen again, that she’d be so wrapped up in her own selfish pain that she didn’t bother to notice when someone she cared about was at the end of their rope?
“Goddamn him,” she said, furiously dashing tears from her eyes so she could pull up the Life360 app on her phone.
Robby’s location pinged the same place it always did when he wasn’t at work. It was an address across town, not far from the hospital, that she’d never gone to. A pin on a map that she’d studied, many times over the last year, but never actually seen in person. She’d thought about it, sometimes. Her thumb had even hovered over the pin, once or twice, a millimeter away from putting it in her navigation app. But always, she ended up putting her phone down. Because just knowing that she could had been enough. She’d trusted that the person on the other end of that pin would always be there, if she needed.
Except now, she couldn’t be sure what she would find when she finally did arrive.
Pills, like Megan?
A rope, like her mother?
Or would Robby favor a scalpel, the same way Trinity herself did?
She clicked the pin, which opened the address in her navigator. Turn left on Sunrise Highway.
She broke just about every traffic law and arrived at Robby’s place in half the time her phone said it should have taken her. The fucking thing died just as she pulled up, overheating from the shitty car charger she’d tried to plug it into, and the half dozen texts she’d ignored ever since getting in the car.
She left the phone behind as she dashed up to the front door. Prayed the spare key Robby had given Dennis wasn’t the spare key he’d told her to use, if she ever needed it. Reached up to the top of the door’s ledge, found it, and prayed her gratitude to a god she definitely didn’t believe in. And then walked into the house.
It was quiet. A chill ran up her spine and she fought another wave of nausea.
Her breath choking her throat, she stepped forward into the living room. And there Robby sat, in a chair at a right angle to a worn sofa, glasses on his nose, a book in his lap. Still. Way too still. Trinity stumbled over her feet in a sudden rush forward, pressing her fingers to his throat, desperate to find a pulse-
“What the fuck!?”
Trinity screamed and fell backward, then bounced up again and punched Robby in the shoulder, hard.
“What the fuck?” he repeated, rubbing his shoulder and staring at her incredulously.
There were tears in her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks, and Trinity didn’t give a damn. No, she did give a damn. She gave a damn because they were his fucking fault, and he would pay for them.
“You bastard!” she screeched at him. “You fucking bastard!”
The shock on Robby’s face turned to concern, reaching toward her despite the fact that she was ready to attack him again. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” she hissed accusingly. “No I am not okay you son of a bitch. I trusted you. I trusted you, and you- you-” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
“Hey, it’s alright Santos, just tell me what’s wrong-” His hand, large and warm and gentle, laid on her shoulder, and she jerked away from the touch like she’d been burned.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarled. Robby’s face fell, and he put up both hands as though trying not to spook a wild animal, pressing as far back in the chair as he could. Making himself less of a threat. The same way he had done when he’d found her with the scalpel all those months ago, and terror had made her turn the blade away from her thighs and to him, seeing him as a threat. Man. Mentor. Position of authority. They were all the same, all sick bastards who would take what they wanted and didn’t care if all they left behind was twisted husks of women who cut themselves just to stay sane.
Except Robby hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t taken advantage. Hadn’t even tried honeyed words to worm his way into her circle, to get her to let her guard down so he could pounce when she was most vulnerable. No. He’d talked to her. Cleaned her up. Offered to be there for her, if ever she needed. Put an app on their phones that would share her location, so he could find her if she was in trouble. And then spent months quietly proving that he could be trusted. That finally, finally, she had someone in her life that she could lean on, if it ever came to that. Someone who would be there for her, who wouldn’t expect anything in return.
Except that it had all been a lie. He didn’t plan to be there for her. He didn’t plan to be there at all.
“Trinity-”
“Don’t! Don’t say my fucking name like that, as though you still fucking care. I trusted you.”
“I do care,” Robby said placatingly. “I hope you know that won’t change, no matter what you think happened.”
“Then how could you?”
“How could I what?” For the first time, his voice rose in frustration, and Trinity found some small comfort in the fact that it didn’t make her heartrate spike the way men raising their voices usually did.
“Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump? The fucking bike? Getting your friend his diagnosis? Making sure Al-Hashimi could take the pressure? Giving your place to Huckleberry? Telling Dana you might not come back? Do you think I’m stupid?” He’d gone pale during her rant, lips pressed into a flat line. “If I wasn’t such a self-involved bitch I’d have gotten you 302’ed before going to watch the fucking fireworks!”
“This isn’t your business or your responsibility, Dr. Santos. Leave it-”
“You know what it did to me, when this happened before. You know I never forgave myself for Megan. And you think - what - that it’s just no big deal for you to-”
“This isn’t on you,” Robby interrupted, his voice hard. “It’s me, and only me, and you shouldn’t be-”
“Shouldn’t be what? Scared? Guilty? Angry? Fucking terrified that I thought I’d finally found something in you that - that everyone else tried to make me believe I didn’t deserve, or I was too fucked up to ever have, or was too twisted at birth to-” It was mostly incoherent sobs by then, and Trinity could hardly catch her breath to keep going, but then she didn’t need to, because Robby wasn’t pressing away from her any more. He stood and pulled her up with him and wrapped his arms around her and held her. Like a child. She felt small, and fragile, and terrified, and also like this was the safest place in the world.
He held her like a father would hold their kid, to comfort them, or protect them. His shirt smelled like laundry detergent and baby powder. She sobbed harder.
He was still here. His heart still beating beneath her cheek, his skin still warm, breath still in his chest. He wasn’t gone - not yet. He was here, holding her, making her think that this - familial, unconditional love - was something she could have. Something she could be worthy of. And if he thought she was going to let that go, he was dead wrong.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” She pushed away from him, glaring through her tears.
“Do you, though? Do you really?” She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie and glared. “And what about after you go ride off a cliff, huh? Who’s got my back then?”
Robby was shaking his head, making her anger boil. “You don’t need me,” he whispered, voice cracking. “You don’t need me, and you deserve better.”
“You don’t get to decide what I do and don’t need, Robby! And what I deserve? Fuck you. Fuck you for giving me something and then trying to take it back because you feel like it’s not enough. Is nothing better?”
He swayed, as though he might crumble at the slightest touch, or simply blow away with any passing breeze. He shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said hoarsely. “I’m sorry if it hurts. But I don’t - I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t. Fuck! You shouldn’t be hearing this from me. You need to go. You need to-”
“I don’t understand?” Trinity repeated, disbelieving. “I don’t understand? You think I wanted to be here, when I found Megan’s corpse on that bathroom floor? When things got bad at the end, and it wasn’t just promises and praise any more, it was threats and bruises? When I tried to talk about it, and they said I was the one who’d encouraged it, because I wanted to be special, that I’d liked it, liked the attention, liked being his special girl, so that made it my fault, made me the one-”
“Stop it!” Robby’s chest was billowing, and his hands shook, and he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes as though trying to erase the images her words had created. She hoped they were burned into his retenas. Hoped he choked on them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what he did to you. If he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him for you. I’m sorry you weren’t loved and protected the way you should have been, and I’m sorry you had to find Megan like that. I’m sorry I said you don’t understand. But Trinity, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. I know you know that. You’re smart, funny, kind-” she snorted there, but he went on, “and an incredible physician. You have so many amazing things to see ahead of you, and people to meet that will love you the way you deserve.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?” Robby repeated back, sounding exhausted.
“You don’t have any more amazing things to see? Any people who love you? You’re not an amazing doctor, and smart and funny and kind, too?”
He shook his head. “It’s- it’s-” He sighed, defeated, shoulders slumped. “It’s a moot point,” he finally said. “My trip is on hold anyway. I can’t-”
He was cut off by a wail from upstairs. “Shit,” he muttered. “One second.” And then he went upstairs toward the crying and returned a moment later with a squirming, crying bundle. There was a bottle on the counter, and he swirled it around before tipping it down toward the baby in his arms.
“That’s a baby,” Trinity said dumbly. And then, “oh shit, that’s the baby, isn’t it?”
Robby nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got her for the weekend, just until family services can get a foster family sorted out. I couldn’t leave her there till Monday on her own.”
That felt like a stab to the back. “You couldn’t leave her there. On her own. Yeah. Makes sense.” She backed away, body numb. “She’s a cute kid. Good luck with all that-” She’d started to blindly go toward the door and was stopped by Robby pulling her back, wrapping one arm around her and bringing her into the shelter of his chest, right up next to the baby. His hand cradled the back of her head and pressed it to his pectoral. His heart thumped beneath her cheek in a way that soothed her even when she didn’t want to be soothed.
“Don’t. Don’t do that. You’re not alone, not helpless. You have so many people who love and care about you. She doesn’t. And… I can’t fail her. She only needs me for three days. As long as I keep her fed and dry and safe, I’ve done my job and then she doesn’t need me any more. She’s not inherently more worthy. I just - I can’t fuck her up, or hurt her. She won’t remember me when I’m gone.”
“But I’ll just put on my big girl panties and get over it?”
Robby chuckled, and it sounded rumbly and deep and soothing under her cheek. It also caused the bottle to slip, and Trinity backed up enough to prop it up again. “That’s a fucking awful phrase. But I just… I convinced myself you’d be fine. It wouldn’t matter.”
Trinity scoffed, pulling even further back. Robby sighed. “Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was selfish. But can you tell me you’ve never done anything stupid when you didn’t think you could face another day? You’ve never thought about hurting yourself and figured, no one else would care, or ever know, and so it was okay?”
There was a scalpel on Trinity’s nightstand.
It was unopened, but it could so easily have ended up bloody, adding to the raised white lines up and down her thighs. She went to the couch and sat down with her knees pulled up to her chin. “I took a scalpel home last night,” she admitted.
His soft, almost inaudible intake of breath felt like another stab. One she deserved.
“Did you-”
“No,” she said quickly. “I went to the fireworks. Then karaoke with Mel - Dr. King, afterward. I didn’t open it. Got shitfaced and now have a raging hangover, which wasn’t helped by the mad dash over here, but I didn’t open it.”
Robby went to the kitchen, looking surprisingly comfortable doing things one handed with the baby in the other arm. He poured a glass of water and set it in front of her, then sat back in the chair she’d first found him in. She drank deeply from the glass, and felt fractionally better afterward. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked gently.
Trinity shrugged miserably. Now that the adrenaline was draining from her system, she was exhausted, and her head was pounding. “You were leaving. I didn’t want to be a pain in your ass. Didn’t want to fuck up your trip - and I was too far up my own ass to realize it was a fucking suicide ride and not an actual vacation. So I kept it as insurance and did what they tell you to. I found someone from my support circle, I spent time on a hobby I enjoy - because screaming Alanis Morisset is a hobby, thank you very much. And I thought… I thought that if it got worse, if I unwrapped it, I could call you then.
“I didn’t ever think that you wouldn’t be there to answer.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded so, achingly, sincere. Trinity sniffed and looked away. “Trinity, I’m sorry.”
She still looked at the coffee table, counting the rings left behind by years of forgotten, dripping cups. “Hey.” Deep and soft and gentle and everything Trinity had wanted, from her dad, from her coach, from her teacher. She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t go away. “Look at me.” Authoritative in a way that wasn’t frightening. In a way she could trust. It wouldn’t hurt, to obey. It wouldn’t cause her pain. She looked at him. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m not saying everything is fixed, but I’m realizing… that there’s a lot I need to stick around for. I can’t - I can’t promise much, but I can promise this: I will be there to answer for as long as it’s in my power to do so. Okay?” His eyes were wet, and ringed red, and she wondered if this was what devotion looked like - trying, and failing, and trying again. Ugly and desperate and sad and exhausted but still here.
She nodded.
“Okay.”
***
Robby had ordered groceries, and Trinity brought them in when they were dropped off. He made her eat a banana and some toast while he made himself scrambled eggs. They moved around each other with a strange kind of ease, comfortable even with the unfamiliarity of the situation. Robby had turned off the overhead light and switched on a lamp, easing the strain on Trinity’s eyes. She took the two tylenol he passed her with another full glass of water. Then took the baby while he rinsed the dishes. Jane had just burped when there was a pounding on the door.
She and Robby looked at each other. “Delivery guy forget something?” Robby wondered with a shrug. He opened the door to a frantic looking Dennis.
“Hey Dr. Robby, have you seen-”
As soon as she came into view behind Robby, Dennis burst into the room and dashed forward, throwing his arms around Trinity and the baby both. “Oh my god, do you have any idea how much you scared me? What the hell happened?”
Robby closed the door and went back to the dishes, but Trinity knew he was listening. He was letting her decide how much she wanted to share. She appreciated the license, but there was no way she’d fully out him. She set Jane down in the swing and turned back to Dennis with her arms folded.
“Had a full blown panic about this poor innocent baby being stuck with Dr. Robby all weekend. I mean, the man’s as bachelor as it gets. I bet he doesn’t even know how to change a diaper.”
“Changed three today, and more before that than years you’ve been alive, Santos,” he called over his shoulder.
“I never actually told you about the baby,” Dennis said suspiciously.
Shit. “Obviously he had to have taken her home,” Trinity covered. “You said he had a reason to stick around for a few days. I figured Dana got to him with her kinship foster speech. Rolled outta bed and came here to try and talk some sense into him.”
“And I assured Dr. Santos that it’s only for the weekend, and she had no reason to be worried.” Robby picked up Jane from the swing and cradled her in his arm.
“I - see.” Dennis did not look convinced, but didn’t argue. For the first time, Trinity was grateful for his pathological people pleaser attitude. He glanced between them, then jumped a little and pulled something out of his pocket. “Oh, I forgot when I was here this morning, I should give this back, since you’re sticking around for a while longer-” It was a key. He held it out to Robby. Trinity, seeing an opportunity, pushed Dennis’s hand back toward his chest.
“No, you should keep it,” she said firmly, earning raised brows from both men. “He doesn’t know when he’ll actually be leaving, and knowing him, he’ll forget to tell you when he actually does leave. You should keep stopping by, just to check in. Just to make sure he’s still here.” She stared Robby down, daring him to challenge her.
He’d made her a promise, but a little added security never hurt. They’d never talked about Dennis, or the way he hero-worshipped Robby, or the way that Robby liked having Dennis look up to him. But she knew that there was no way Robby would kill himself and leave his golden boy to find his body. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t still hop on his death-trap motorcycle sometime, but it at least covered one front.
“...alright, I guess that’s no big deal. As long as it’s not going to be a bother to you, Robby.”
Trinity kept staring, and Robby rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of laughter. “No, no bother at all, Whitaker. You’d be doing me a favor. She’s right, I’ve been a bit scatterbrained about this whole trip. Couldn’t hurt to have a second set of eyes on the situation.”
Trinity hated that she felt so validated, and appreciated, and useful. Hated how warm that made her feel inside. But she also loved it, just a little.
***
Robby
***
Dennis and Trinity spent the afternoon at Robby’s house. Not Whitaker and Santos, the doctors in Robby’s ED but Dennis and Trinity, the twenty-somethings who were bickering over what show to put on the TV.
It was strange - in another life, they could’ve been his kids. If he’d married and started a family right out of college, those two could be…
Trinity, he had no trouble seeing in that light. They were so much alike in so many ways. The pressure they put on themselves, their mental health struggles, the ambition to always be better, do more. And with the childhood she’d had… fuck, Robby wished he was her father. She deserved so much better than what she’d gotten.
As for Whitaker - Robby’s mind shied instantly away from any thoughts connecting the kid to him in a familial sort of way, and Robby tried hard not to focus too closely on why.
He’d never gone for significantly younger partners before, and had dated almost exclusively women in the past few decades. But there was something entirely addictive about the way Whitaker looked up at Robby with those big eyes full of stars. It made Robby want to never puncture the picture perfect version of himself that Whitaker saw. It also made Robby want to put the kid on his knees and show him just how wrong he was about Robby’s goodness.
He hadn’t thought he’d ever have to face admitting to his ridiculous little crush. He was supposed to have been dead by now. But here he was, watching Dennis and Trinity devolve into an outright wrestling match over the remote. And for the first time in a long, long time, Robby didn’t feel that burning ache to not be here. To simply not exist. Peaceful, empty, nothingness. Instead, he put on his grumpiest face, separated the children, and chose a show himself. They both pouted, but neither actually complained, and with his face turned away, Robby smiled.
***
Robby ordered pizza for dinner, the good stuff from Cesaris, with all the extra sides that two broke young doctors wouldn’t be able to splurge on. It felt nice, spending his money on something that made someone else happy. Whitaker moaned obscenely at the first bite of supreme stuffed crust, and Santos elbowed Robby when he got out beer and passed them around, telling him, “not bad,” with an approving smile.
Jane took her bottle and was passed between the three adults constantly, hardly ever being set down. It seemed to suit her just fine. She and Trinity had a staring contest - which Trinity lost and then accused the baby of cheating in. Dennis chattered at her constantly, telling her everything that was going on, as though she could completely understand the complexities of the show they were watching. When it was Robby’s turn, Jane always seemed to want to sleep, curling up on his chest and closing her eyes. He kept her secure there with one hand on her back, marvelling at how small she was, how fragile.
He could admit, as he was lulled by the peaceful sounds of her sleepy little breaths, and surrounded by the scent of baby shampoo, and blinded by a primal urge to love and protect and provide, there were moments where he considered keeping her. He had a big enough place for a kid, he was financially secure. He could get… a sidecar or something for the bike, take her out on the road.
He nearly laughed out loud and woke up Jane with that thought. She was perfect and beautiful and he would be the absolute worst thing for her long term. What would he do with a baby? During his regular fifteen hour shifts, on the nights when he came home exhausted and aching so badly he could hardly get back to his feet, in the moments when all he could do was cry and breathe through the pain of having to exist in a world of sorrow and doubt and loss?
No, she was far better off without him, and if there was one thing Robby was good at, it was pushing away people that he could hurt.
Maybe it would keep him from driving off a cliff or taking all his sleeping pills at once, knowing that he had a baby to care for - but it wouldn’t be good for her, to be stuck with a fucked up dad that was too old, too damaged, too weak to love properly. It was bad enough that he had Dana needing him to cover for her with the tranq situation until she felt secure enough again not to need it. And Trinity needing him to be there for her, a safety net that she’d never in her life gotten to have but so much deserved.
And maybe there were other people that needed him too, but he’d convinced himself that they were better off without him, that it wouldn’t matter if they heard the news a week later and never really got to say goodbye.
But those kinds of thoughts were a little too dark for an evening spent playing Uno with his youngest resident and intern, so Robby pushed the whole thing aside.
When it started to get dark out and Whitaker and Santos finally decided they should be getting home, Jane was sleeping already. Robby figured he’d pay for the early bedtime with at least a few rounds of getting up in the middle of the night, but that was okay. It had been a good day. Really, Robby couldn’t think of one in recent memory that was better - or even close to as good. He realized that for longer than he cared to admit, he’d been going through the motions of his life like swimming in the deep ocean, dark and muffled and dangerous. This felt like surfacing for air he’d given up any hope of getting again.
Dennis tugged on a pair of sneakers that were painfully ragged. Robby briefly wondered how he could get the kid a new pair without it being a thing. Dennis waved from the doorway, then stuck his hands in his pockets and quickly looked away, his cheeks pink. It was cute. Which was not the right thing for Robby to think, but he cut himself some slack. It had been a weird day. Then Trinity pulled on her jacket and looked at Robby. Looked hard at him.
Robby smiled, just a little, feeling gratitude and warmth and tenderness fill his chest. Trinity surprised him by launching herself forward and wrapping her arms around him. She squeezed him tightly, just long enough for him to get the chance to return the hug, to press his lips to the crown of her hair and whisper, “thanks, kid. For everything.”
If she sniffed discreetly when she pulled away, well that was between her, Robby, and god.
***
Sitting up alone in his living room, Robby thought about something Dana had said to him during the hellish mire of pain and loss that had been the last shift. The ED would go on without them. It ran without Dana, it ran without Adamson, it would run without Robby. At the time, those words had felt like a knife to the ribs. The only place in the world where Robby’s life felt worth living, even if it was the thing that was killing him, and it didn’t need him.
But removed from the intensity of the Pitt, and his manic need to make sure everything would run once he was permanently gone, Robby realized that she was right.
The ED ran twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Robby worked probably half of that - far more than any single person should - but that meant that the PTMC ED ran just fine for the other half of the year without him. He knew the attendings and residents and interns on the other shifts and on the days that he was off. And as a general rule, he trusted them. Hell, he’d trained most of them.
For so long, the ED had been an integral part of Robby’s identity. He wasn’t Michael Robinavitch, agnostic Jewish man who’d been abandoned at age eight, who liked the Penguins, and the Royals, and far too much syrup on his pancakes. He was Dr. Robby, the Chief Attending Physician at the Pitt. And that was all he wanted to be. Because Dr. Robby needed to keep going, to save one more patient, one more person, to go and go and go until there was nothing left to give.
That drive and chaos was a safety net, more than it was a calling. It left no room for him to think how little would change if he just stepped in front of the 4:15 bus, or dropped off the hospital roof, or took a few little pills.
And he’d been clinging to that for so long that it stopped being enough. The pain of everything else, the buildup of loss and grief, had started to overtake the distraction of being useful.
He’d criticized Baran for not being healthy enough to run the ED - but was Robby? He’d been a hypocritical bastard more than once. Maybe he had no room to talk. And it wasn’t just in the Pitt. No, maybe a five second lapse with a patient wouldn’t always be a matter of life and death, but in the behind the wheel of a car? A five second seizure could mean running a red light, missing a turn, veering into oncoming traffic. A brilliant career cut short because she couldn’t accept a physical ailment needed to be taken seriously. He’d been half tempted to take her keys before the end of her shift. And yet, it never once occurred to him to turn that pitiless focus on his own health.
If he was being honest, if anyone else had behaved the way he did the day before, he’d have either put them on a psychiatric hold or not let them go anywhere alone.
It was why he’d steered clear of McKay as much as possible. It was why he’d been so relieved that Santos had been distracted. It was why he’d lashed out in anger at Dana, hoping desperately to get her too worked up to focus on what was right in front of her.
Jesus, he owed so many people an apology.
He’d been a huge dick, and he’d figured it was better that way, at the time. So much easier to just roll your eyes and move on with your day when you hear your asshole boss got turned into roadkill, rather than a mentor losing their life prematurely. Robby knew that much intimately.
He also refused to think about the fact that, though he’d done a damn good job of pushing away or alienating almost everyone, he’d been too selfish to tarnish the view Whitaker had of him.
Nope, not touching that one with a ten foot pole.
He grabbed his laptop and typed out an email before heading up to bed, hoping to catch at least a few hours of rest before Jane woke up hungry.