Work Text:
The ER was as chaotic as usual, and Dr. Robinavitch was trying his hardest to focus. He moved through the halls, rattling off orders, checking vitals, and keeping the rhythm of his shift fast but steady. But there was one thing that kept pulling his attention away, one thing that he couldn’t seem to ignore.
Hope.
She’d only been back for a few months and he couldn’t get her out of his head. The two years she had been gone had been hard for him. This morning had started innocently enough. He’d seen her walking past the nurses’ station earlier in the day, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, wearing that soft smile that always made his chest tighten. But it wasn’t the smile that caught his attention this time.
It was the new surgeon.
Dr. Cole Mitchell. Tall, charismatic, always holding himself like he was better than everyone else. The kind of guy that rubbed Robby the wrong way. And lately, Robby had seen him approach Hope at least once every shift.
He told himself it was nothing, just friendly banter, nothing to get worked up over. But the way Mitchell leaned just a little too close to her, the way Hope laughed at his jokes a little too easily, made something sour coil in his stomach.
He watched from a distance, pretending not to notice as Cole placed a hand on Hope’s shoulder while they spoke. His words were too low for Robby to hear, but the way Hope’s face lit up told him all he needed to know.
The jealousy hit him hard.
He had always told himself it wasn’t his place. That Hope was free to do whatever she wanted, to talk to whoever she wanted. But the tightness in his chest was unbearable.
“Hey, Robby.”
Robby turned to see Dana walking toward him.
“You look like you’re about to snap someone’s neck,” she said with a smirk.
He chuckled tightly, trying to brush it off. “Just a long shift.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Dana raised an eyebrow. “You’re not still mad about Mitchell, are you?”
Robby’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, Robby. Don’t play dumb. I’ve seen you stare daggers at him every time he talks to Hope.”
He swallowed hard, turning his eyes to the board that held the patient cases, not wanting to meet her eyes. “I’m not mad.” He rubbed his hand over his face, frustrated with himself.
“You sure about that?” Dana’s voice softened. “You know, Hope’s been through a lot, and the last thing she needs is you acting all…possessive.”
His jaw tightened. “I’m not—“
But Dana wasn’t done. “I’m just saying, Robby. Don’t wait too long to do something about whatever you’ve got going on. You don’t want to lose your chance.”
Maybe she was right. He needed to make a move or else he could risk losing her for more than two years this time. God, he’s been such a coward.
Hours had passed and Robby was still working out what he was going to say to Hope. He stood at the break room sink, his right hand gripping his coffee mug, hoping none of the staff would need him for just a few more minutes. He was just about to take a sip of his coffee when he heard the door creak open. He watched Mitchell swaggered into the room, only giving him a small nod in acknowledgment.
Robby felt his jaw tighten, but he drifted his eyes back to the coffee cup in front of him, trying to keep his anger in check. He had been trying to get through the shift without running into Mitchell, but it seemed the universe had other plans.
Mitchell leaned against the counter and pulled open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water. He took his time twisting off the cap, before he rose the bottle to his lips and took a slow swallow. The silence dragged on, and Robby’s hands tightened around his coffee mug. The moment Mitchell spoke, Robby knew this wouldn’t be a casual conversation.
“You know,” Mitchell began, his voice smooth, “Hope’s looking especially good today.”
Robby froze, his grip on the coffee mug tightening as knuckles turned white. He took a slow breath, hoping he hadn’t heard him correctly.
“What?” Robby asked, his voice tight, trying to remain calm.
Mitchell turned toward him, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “I mean exactly what I said. She looks great in those scrub pants.” He let out a chuckle. “She knows how to make herself look good. I’ll give her that. Makes it hard not to notice, you know?”
Robby could feel his heart begin to pound in his ears. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
Mitchell shrugged with a light scoff, as if it was no big deal. He took another long sip of water, his eyes scanning Robby’s face. “What? You think she doesn’t know what she’s doing? Come on. A woman like her, with that kind of body? She knows exactly what she’s doing.”
The words made Robby’s fists clench, anger building inside him. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t let Mitchell get under his skin. Not like this. Not here.
“You don’t know anything about her,” Robby said, his voice low and controlled. He turned his head to face Mitchell. “And I won’t tolerate you talking about any of the women in this hospital like that. I hear any of that talk again. You’re getting reported.”
Mitchell let out a soft chuckle, trying to ease the tension, his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, Robinavitch. It’s just a bit of fun. You’re too serious.” He pushed off the counter and took a step toward the door, turning back with a small grin. “But hey, you keep playing the hero if that’s what gets you off.“
Robby watched him go, raw anger still swirling inside him, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. The thought of Mitchell talking about her like that— God, if he wasn’t on shift. Mitchell would have been glad he was in a hospital.
He just needed to get through this shift. Then he would tell her how he felt. Tell her everything. Unless she already knew and didn’t feel the same. Would that make him no better than Mitchell?
Only a few hours had passed since the break room run in with Mitchell, and the ER was in chaos. Dr. Robby was mid-suture when he heard it. His name shouted in a frantic, breathless voice. He barely had time to process the urgency before one of the nurses came rushing into the room.
“Dr. Robby—it’s Hope.”
His hands froze.
“She’s hurt.”
He barely registered the patient still on the table, the blood on his gloves. All he could see was a vision of the worst case scenarios running through his head.
His body moved before his mind could catch up. The sound of his name being called by Dr. Santos faded as he shoved out of the room, tearing off his gloves and throwing them into the nearest trash bin as he ran toward the commotion just past the ambulance bay doors.
And then he saw her.
Blood trailing down the side of her face from her temple. One of her arms draped over another nurse’s shoulders, her legs having trouble holding her weight up.
She looked disoriented, blinking quickly like she was struggling to focus.
“Hope!”
She lifted her head at his voice, starting to regain her balance.
He was there in seconds, brushing past the other nurses, reaching for her. “What the hell happened?” His voice was sharp, but his hands, his hands were so very gentle as they gripped her arms, steadying her. Like he was worried he would hurt her further.
Dana, standing beside her with a black eye, swallowed hard. “We were outside. This guy, he went for me first, but Hope—” She winced “She got between us.”
Robby’s jaw clenched, looking between the two women.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Get Dana to a room. And grab Collins, now.” He ordered one of the nurses closest to him.
Dana struggled to hold in a groan of pain as two nurses helped her towards a patient room. Robby’s attention turned to Hope, his left hand drifting to press against her back, while his right held gently onto her upper arm, keeping her steady.
“I’m fine,” Hope huffed, her one free hand raising to her bleeding temple.
Robby intercepted, grabbing her forearm and bringing it down to her side. Without thinking, he pressed her into his side, his arm wrapping around her waist. He started to navigate her towards a room.
The world narrowed to just Hope—the way she felt in his arms, how her fingers clutched at his sleeve, how the sight of her blood made him feel like he was unraveling.
“I said I’m fine.” Hope mumbled, embarrassed by pulled around.
“You’re not fine,” he bit out, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. “You have a head injury. You can barely stand.”
She let out a weak huff of laughter, but it turned into a wince. “I was literally just standing two seconds ago.”
Robby’s grip on her tightened, walking quickly down the hall, realizing he might be overreacting. But this wasn’t just anybody.
The moment they reached an open patient room, he gently set her down on the bed, but his hands never left her. He crouched beside her, eyes scanning her face, his pulse thrumming in his throat.
His hands were shaking.
Robby had treated many patients. Thousands. He had seen much worse injuries, had stood in the middle of the ER where lives hung in the balance, had kept his hands steady through it all.
But this was Hope.
The woman he had loved in silence. The woman who had left the Pitt and had taken a part of him with her. The woman who had come back only to end up here.
He yanked the curtain around the bed closed, knowing Hope wouldn’t want any more of the staff seeing her like this. He ripped open a sterile gauze packet, pressing it to the side of her head to control the bleeding. His breathing uncontrolled.
“Why’d you jump in?” he said quietly, voice raw. Quickly checking her pupil reaction with a penlight.
Hope blinked at him, confused. “What was I supposed to do? Let Dana get hurt?”
His jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn in tight, but before he could say anything, she reached up, fingers brushing his wrist.
Her voice softened. “Why do you look so worried?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
But when he finally spoke, his voice cracked.
“Because it’s you.”
Hope blinked up at him, her fingers still curled softly around his wrist.
Robby couldn’t move. He could hardly breathe.
The words hung in the air, heavy. She was watching him now, studying his face, her own pain momentarily forgotten.
Her lips parted slightly. “Robby…”
He cleared his throat, looking away as he discarded the bloodied gauze pad for a fresh one to press against her head. “Hold this,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Hope obeyed, her fingers brushing against his as she took over.
Robby turned, grabbing the supplies needed, forcing himself to focus. But his hands—God, his hands—they were still trembling.
He reached for an antiseptic bottle, but when he went to unscrew the cap, his fingers fumbled, the bottle slipping slightly in his grip.
Hope noticed.
“You’re shaking,” she said softly, frowning.
Robby inhaled sharply, gritting his teeth. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Her voice, always so kind.
He finally looked at her again, and she was still staring at him like she could suddenly see right through him.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Stop talking.”
A ghost of a smirk flickered across her lips. “Bossy.”
“Dizzy,” he shot back. “Bleeding. Just—” He exhaled harshly, shaking his head. “Let me do my job, Hope.”
She hesitated, but then nodded slightly, her eyes fluttering closed as she let him work.
Silence settled between them, thick and suffocating.
He cleaned the wound carefully, trying to ignore the way her skin felt warm under his touch, the way her breathing changed when he got close.
Trying to ignore the way his chest still felt like it was caving in, he tossed the bloody gauze into a bin. Looking her over again, he watched as red marks with hints of blue started to form across her neck. They would no doubt turn to finger shaped bruises within a few hours. He couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed in anger.
He placed a final bandage gently to her temple, his jaw impossibly tight.
“There,” he murmured softly. “Done.”
Hope opened her eyes, blinking up at him. “Does it look bad?”
He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “It could’ve been worse.”
She held his gaze. “But it wasn’t.”
He let out a hollow laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Not the point, Hope.”
“Then what is?” she challenged, not willing to let it go.
Robby clenched his jaw, exasperated. “I don’t know. You could’ve gotten very seriously hurt.”
“But I didn’t.”
Hope’s eyes stared up at him.
He let out a sharp exhale, running a hand down his face. “Damn it.”
She was silent for a long moment, before asking hesitantly. “Why does it matter this much to you?”
His hands clenched into fists. “You know why.”
“I don’t, not really. Unless you say it.” Her lips held a small frown.
He closed his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. Did she really not know? All these years?
Then, finally, softly whispered.
“Because I love you.”
The room felt impossibly still.
Hope’s eyes teared up. “Robby.”
“No.” His voice was hoarse, fearful. “You don’t get to walk away from this one. You don’t get to—“
She swallowed, hard. “Robby, please—“
“I have loved you for years,” he interrupted, voice breaking. “And you left. You left, and I let you, because I thought it was what you wanted. But today—” He swallowed, his eyes burning. “Today, when I saw you hurt, when I thought the worst—” He stopped, shaking his head. “I can’t do this again. I can’t let you leave. Again.”
Her lips parted, her eyes shining. “I won’t.”
“Promise me,” He whispered, desperate.
“I promise.” She reached for him then, her fingers wrapping around his hand, squeezing tight. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
His hands were still trembling ever so slightly. He had tried to stop them, tried to will himself into steadiness, but he found himself failing to calm his nerves back to normal.
He turned to look at her, her eyes unwavering. Her fingers, warm and sure, pried his hand open. She traced along the lines of his palm before she lifted his hand.
Robby breathed in as her lips brushed over his knuckles. Soft. Gentle.
His throat tightened.
She kissed his hand again. “You’re still shaking.” Her breath brushing against his skin, warm.
“I know,” he whispered, embarrassed, barely able to get the words out. If it had been anyone else, his hands would have been steady. If it had been anyone else drawing attention to his shaking, he would have been upset. But not her. He reacted to her in ways he couldn’t explain.
Hope brought their hands down, resting them on the scratchy sheets. Her other hand raised, holding the side of his face, her skin soft against the rough stubble of his cheek. Robby couldn’t help but feel worry build in his stomach, feeling like he would wake up at any moment. That this was all a dream.
Her kind eyes met his soft brown for a moment, then they moved down, looking at his lips. Robby couldn’t help but be drawn in, bringing himself closer.
Then, with the gentlest hesitation, he kissed her.
Soft. Careful. Just a brush of his lips against hers, giving her the chance to pull away.
She kissed back, her hand drifting from his cheek to the back of his neck. Robby’s fingers tightened over their intertwined hands still resting on the sheets, his free hand drifting to her waist, holding her.
The kiss was soft and quick, leaving him wanting more.
When he pulled back, he saw Hope’s soft smile, the one he loved so much.
He watched as she looked down to their hands, still pressed together. She lifted his hand, pulling open his fingers and letting his hand rest in both of her palms.
She watched his hand for a moment with a soft grin, she said softly. “Not shaking anymore.”
Robby exhaled a light, unsteady laugh, his fingers moving to wrap around hers once again.