Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Frank watches him almost obsessively. 

He can't help it, can't help a quick look. Robby looks as exhausted as ever, hair and hoody a mess. He very pointedly, does not look at Frank. 

For good reason.

He remembers the screaming match like it was yesterday, remembers the barbed words exchanged in the heat of the moment. Shit that he can't ever take back.

It's etched into Frank's closed eyelids like an image burnt into the screen of an old television. He deserves that and worse, he knows it. 

Knows it in the way that the only people happy to see him is Mel and Myrna. Knows it in the way that Santos is the only one to look him in the eye. Knows it in the way that Dana pulls him aside to tell him to keep out of Robby's way. 

Abby kisses him and tells him that he'll do better today, that Robby won't hate him. He doesn't tell her that it's already too late, that nothing could mop up the blood already spilled between them. It's not that Abby's not understanding, after all she's still with him despite the drugs and the lying. 

She's a good person. 

He leans against the jagged brick of the ambulance bay. The Pittsburgh air cuts sharp through his self pity like a knife. 

"Hey." 

Frank looks up to see Robby with his arms crossed tight around his chest. "Hey." 

Robby for all of his seeming infinite wisdom, is at a loss for words. It was strange seeing a man usually so infallible, nervous. Instead of speaking immediately, he fishes out a carton of Lucky strikes. "Want one?" 

Frank's lips purse, "No thank you. Trying to kick bad habits." After all, that's what Robby sent him to rehab for, repent for all the mistakes he had made.

He nods and sticks one in his mouth before patting himself down to find a lighter. "My bad. It's the only habit I did keep after rehab. They tell you not to, but it's the only one I couldn't shake. Nowadays, I only do it when I'm stressed. "

" Are you making fun of me?" The accusing words slip out with ease. 

Robby doesn't seem put off by the question, taking a drag. "Nah." 

"You went to rehab?" Frank asked, it seemed hard to believe. That a man, a protector of the weak and ill, a Patron Saint in scrubs. Went to rehab. That anything could tear him down to Frank's level. 

But Robby half smiles and for the first time in months, looks at him, "Yeah. Not for benzos though." 

It stings like a paper cut, "What then? Alcohol?" 

"Fentanyl." Robby's eyes go a little glassy at the memory.

"Jesus Robby." Frank can't help himself because yeah, benzos were bad but fentanyl was worse by a mile. "I- why?" 

Another drag, he exhales the sour smoke through his nose. "There was an incident in the hospital I was working at, at the time. Injured my back." It comes out a scoff and Frank can't help but to scoff right along with him. 

"So what? You pulled something in your back?" Frank had been in a car accident and fuck it if he hadn't tried to wean off the goddamn benzos before it had pulled him under. He wasn't some fucking addict because he had tweaked his back, he had been leaking spinal fluid-

"No. Patient stabbed me. Lost a kidney from it, lost the other to schistosomiasis." And he grins again like it was some fond memory and not a horrific admittance. The smile slides off his face, "I lost my med student from it. Her name was Lucy. She died, I didn't." 

It's not much but it's enough. " I'm sorry."

He nods, "Yeah I know." 

Something twists horribly in his chest, " Will you ever forgive me?"

Robby stubs the burning tip of the cigarette into the brick behind him, "I wasn't talking to cartoon animals in the peds room. I was praying." 

His words come back sharp and gutting. He remembers like it was yesterday. " I didn't think you were religious."

"Not much anymore but we all have our shit. The point is, yeah Frank. I forgive you. But I'm not the one you need forgiveness from" Robby points out. He throws the butt in the trash before looking over his shoulder.

But yes he did. He needed to hear it like a kid craving their father's attention and love. 

"Then who?" 

Robby frowns, lips thinning under his beard. "Yourself, man. Go get a sponsor." 

And with that, he's alone again. It doesn't feel quite so horrible like last time, some cosmic weight lifted off his shoulders.

It's minutes or hours before he hears his name again. He knows the sound of her voice and turns to see Mel standing there, hands jammed awkwardly in her jacket pockets. "Hi!" 

"Hey Mel." For the first time that night, he smiles. "How're you doing?" 

"Actually, I came by to ask you the same thing." She smiles back too and it's so fucking genuine. 

"Feel a little awkward, that's all." He whispers, he feels more than that, more like he was torn open, ribs exposed to the cold air 

She saddles up next to him, "Who doesn't?" She leans her head on his shoulder, hair coming undone in wisps from her braid. She's exhausted so Frank doesn't move even though h's never been good at standing still but it's Mel so he does. "Are you sure you're alright?" 

"Yeah," he nods. It's not a lie surprisingly, "Yeah I am." 

Chapter Text

Young woman, aged twenty one, mental capacity of a five year old. 

Severe neglect.

Her hair was matted and oily, all skin and bones, with a sodden diaper that no one had bothered changing in what seemed like days. She had been dumped at the door. 

She had infected wounds on the back of her knees and thighs like someone had struck her with a belt and forced her to sit on them. 

Mel retches again into the bushes. Head pounding in time with each heave. When her body was done attempting to turn itself inside out, she sags to her knees. 

"Here" she half expects Frank but it's Dr. Robinavitch instead, holding a bottle of water.

She wants to tell him that no, she's fine but she's too exhausted to fight, so she takes it.

Dr. Robinavitch sits, wincing as his knees pop. Mel likes him at least for the little time that she's known him. Efficient and brilliant. She likes him even more when he sits next to her. "Are you sick?" 

"I- it's unprofessional," Mel swigs some warm water before spitting it out next to her.

"Was it our medical neglect case?" He nods towards the doors. Whatever he sees on her face makes him sigh and lean back on his hands. "Why'd you say it was unprofessional?" 

" I shouldn't-" Mel winces as a sob barrels through her, " It's just- my sister Becca. She's in a home and-"

" It hits home?" Dr. Robinavitch guesses. 

Shame creeps through her. It's the familiar sort, the same feeling when she stimmed or did something that exposed just how other she really was. "I guess. I'm so-" 

"Don't you dare apologize." He tells her fiercely, he means it too. "I- just don't be sorry." 

They fall into silence again until he breaks it with a hand through his thinning hair. "Someone told me once, that there are two different types of doctors. The type that gets rid of their feelings and the type that don't. If you do keep them, you're bound to get sick from time to time."

It sounds like he's reciting it word for word.

"What if I don't want to keep them?" Mel demands, voice cracking awkwardly. "This is a lot." 

Dr. Robinavitch shrugs, "That's your choice. But I will tell you this, being jaded doesn't make you a better person or a better doctor. Quite the opposite. Eventually you'll learn to live with or without it." 

She nods and curls in tighter on herself, fingers pressing divots in her thigh. 

"When people come in here, they're sick or bleeding or dying from some ailment and they're terrified. And we wipe our eyes and mouths and help them. Because no one else can. They don't give a shit about how we feel that day or in the moment, they need us."

She does wipe her mouth and choke down some more water, " Yeah."

"The old heads will tell you that emotions will get in the way of your work. They don't but they can, your job is to learn how to juggle both. The old heads like me won't be around for much longer so it'll be up to you to use that empathy and become a better doctor because of it. " He gets to his feet with a grunt, brushing his worn hoodie off before offering Mel a calloused hand 

When she takes it, he hauls her to her feet with ease.

Dr. Robinavitch puts a hand on Mel's shoulder to steady her, "You set the tone Dr. King. Remember that". 

So Mel takes a deep breath and walks back in.

Chapter Text

She nods at Mckay, "I'm about to leave. Just gimme a minute, alright?" 

The doctor nods and takes a sharp swig of her Red Bull, she looked how Samira felt. Bloody scrubs and bangs that have long since plastered to her forehead.

With that, Samira grabs her coat and bag. Scooting through the mess of old and new patients, she makes her way to the Peds wing. She had seen Robby in there. 

And he was.

Sitting back up against the wall, scrubs stained with viscera. It had been a train wreck of a day, a seven car pile up. Four DOA, two dead within hours of getting here. Someone's six year old daughter and someone's husband. 

He looks fine all things considered, just exhausted.

They were on hour four past their shift and Samira felt dead on her feet. But at least it wasn't a shooting. "Hi." 

Robby looks up, looking every bit his age. "Hey, what're you still doing her" 

Samira closes the door behind her, joining him on the floor. It looks normal, no white sheets, no makeshift morgue. The only indication that there was ever anything like that was a stain on the wall, now a rusty brown. "Was gonna ask you the same question." She rustles through her bag, coming up with the bottle of Starbucks coffee that she had stashed away. She hands it to him. "Here." 

He looks like he was going to protest but something on Samira's face must have convinced him otherwise, so he takes it. "Thanks. I came in here to just- decompress." 

She squints at him, " This feels like the last place you'd want to do that. Try again".

Robby laughs, a tired weary thing. " You're smart. No, I- I don't know. Penance? "

" You did what you could. She was gonna die anyways, it was just a matter of where. " Samira reasons. The words taste like ash in her mouth. It was true though, the poor girl was bleeding out so fast that they opened her up in the ER, even though they knew it was a fruitless endeavor. 

In the end, she had died how so many did down here. Afraid and surrounded by strangers. Robby had held her for the better part of two hours, stroking her hair and face. He had held her hand when her heart had finally stopped. 

"I should be telling you this." Robby frowns down at the floor, he looked frustrated with himself, "That was- I shouldn't..."

She nudges him with her shoulder, "You did the right thing, you know. She was terrified and the last person that she saw was you. That's as good as she was gonna get."

He sighs, " I berate you for being slow but I turn around and stand there. I'm sorry for the hypocrisy." It's honest and forward and it makes Samira laugh.

"Only you- only you can apologize for being too nice," she snorts. Robby is frozen and staring at her. " You're a big softie" she pokes at his shoulder, giggling. 

Robby rolls his eyes, "That does not make me a softie. If anything, you're the softie." It's a terrible comeback and he knows it judging from the way his shoulders half heave in a laugh.

"Oh please. You're too nice, like seriously. Santos was horrified by it." 

" Jesus. Being kind doesn't make you soft." He's pouting now. 

" You're a big teddy bear, please." She settles back. "But you're right. Being kind doesn't make you soft or incapable of your job. You asked me once, why I took such long histories."

Robby pulls his jacket harder around him like a blanket, "Yeah." 

"My dad- he died from an allergic reaction in the ER. I was ten and orphaned in a moment all because they didn't bother to ask him." It hurts, like a wound that won't scab over. "I never forget that and I'll..." Her voice breaks a little, "Never forget the little girl he left behind."

If only someone had slowed down and just taken the time, her father would still be here. If they had just remembered that they were treating people with beating hearts and families, maybe something would have changed. 

Robby inches an arm around her, "he'd be proud of you. You're a good doctor Samira, and an even better person. You know I- I only get on to you because I care, right? There was a time where everyone thought I'd turn tail and run the other way because all I did was care too much."

She leans on him heavily. Despite everything, she doesn't cry. It's been years since she has and it'll probably be years more. " What did you do? "

"I kind of did run. I didn't start out wanting to be an ER doctor you know. I was a surgeon, did my first year of residency and everything." It's a lonely admittance like it's the first time in a while that he's said it. "I loved it but I loved people more. God, I even missed my own graduation to play cards with some poor girl who was terrified over a liver transplant." 

" Did you win?"

" I did not. She kicked my ass three times before I gave up." He chuckles, rubbing Samira's head. It's comforting, them like this. Something that her own father used to do. 

Samira snuggles closer, "You're a good doctor too. And a good person. Being kind doesn't make you soft but being soft isn't a bad thing either." 

" I'm really not a good person, but thank you anyways."

" Doing things that you regret isn't synonymous with being a bad person. If it was, every doctor would be horrible people. Regret is what makes us human."

Robby lays his head gently on top of hers, " I am very human then."

She thinks of the dying girl with her fading eyes fixed on Robby, of Leah. Of Robby and Adamson. Of her father's gravestone. Of the husband who had died crying for his mother today. "Who isn't?" 

Chapter Text

Connie Briggs. That's her name. She tells Trinity with a sickly sweet smile. 

She doesn't like her.

It's nonsensical really, to instantly dislike some random senior citizen who's only in there for a potential ankle break. But dammit, she does. 

Maybe it's the fake smile plastered on the woman's face. The one that Dr. Collins seems to buy. 

"Just my ankle dear." Briggs coos, her long, silvery blonde hair flowing around her like a curtain. She looks like a doll, small pink lips and big green eyes, the only thing that stands out is a crescent shaped scar that stretches from the corner of her right eye to her cheekbone.  

"How'd you get the scar?" Trinity asks candidly. It earns her a glare from Collins.

Just for a moment, Briggs's face deepens and her little old lady mask slips and then just like that, it's back into place. " It's all right. Well, I was cleaning for a family and the kid was a bit rambunctious with a penknife."

Collins clears her throat, " Clean? You're a maid?"

"Oh yes. A good thirty something years-" 

Before she could continue, the door opens and Dr. Robby enters looking about as dead on his feet as Trinity feels, "I'm Doctor Robinavitch, what seems ro be the problem?" He dumps some hand sanitizer in the palm of his hand before yanking some gloves down. 

"Possible ankle fracture, I just ordered a CT scan but I have a woman in two with a possible broken rib. Santos, I trust you can handle this?" Collins straightens up and gives her a thumbs up and a smile that probably means refrain from terrorizing senior citizens. 

She leaves Dr. Robby with a pat on the back.

"Nice woman." Briggs comments. Trinity bites back the urge to tell her to fuck off. 

Dr. Robby peers over her foot, nodding at whatever he saw. "Probably broken, but we'll wait on the CT to confirm." 

Briggs eyes him too, " Your last name sounds familiar. Do you happen to be related to an Eleanor Robinavitch? "

For the first since he entered, Dr. Robby properly looks at her. Trinity watches as he goes very, very still. He's looking at her scar, she realizes. Whatever it is that he sees, makes him freeze.

When he says nothing for a long minute, Trinity coughs awkwardly. "Are you alright Dr. Robby?" 

The attending swallows hard, hand swiping at his chest, "N-no relation." 

"Oh, you look a little pale," Briggs remarks, brows furrowing. 

At that moment, Trinity clocks a couple of things;

1. Dr. Robby definitely recognizes her.

2. Whoever she is or was to him, it wasn't good.

3. He looks ill.

He's pale and Trinity realizes that he's shaking, "um. I have it handled, I'm sure you have much more pressing cases." The excuse works and he backs away, eyes fixed on Briggs like he was afraid that she'd jump from the bed or something. He is afraid though, that much is obvious.

When he gets to the door, he cups a hand across his mouth and for a terrible moment, she thinks he's going to vomit right then and there. Instead, he turns and flees. 

"Excuse me for a moment," Trinity mutters, sliding her gloves off. In the hallway, she watches as Dr. Robby snatches the edge of a trash can and promptly pukes. 

She says nothing, letting him practically jog to an empty exam room. The only person there to witness it is Princess who looks off-put. 

"Hey," Trinity greets her awkwardly, "Just gonna-mop, yeah" Princess gives her a look and Trinity dashes away.

She finds him in the dark exam room, eyes glassy and a trashcan wedged between his knees, "Are you alright?" 

He laughs, a sad wet thing. " Yeah, I'm fine."

"No offense but you don't look like it," Trinity remarks. 

It earns her a scoff, " I know her, that's all. Just been awhile."

She briefly considers grabbing Collins or someone much more equipped for whatever was broiling underneath, " Oh. She's not a friend, I'm guessing?" Stop fucking talking Trinity. 

" I-" Dr. Robby leans over and gags again, spitting up what looks to be nothing but stomach bile, " I lost my virginity to her." He admits, wiping his mouth.

Something in Trinity bottoms out violently. She doesn't think it, shoves it down. Just because something happened to her, doesn't mean it happens to everyone. "She's kinda old for you. What? Did you have a fling with the milf who's lawn you mowed back in college?" The joke feels like sand in her mouth, it was bad but she had to alleviate the choking tension in the room.

He looks at her, usually expressive eyes now dead. It was a look that she had seen in Carly before she had taken her own life, a look that she had seen on herself too many times in the mirror. "I was eleven, so no." 

The woman back there with a sweet smile and old hands that Collins had taken so lovingly in her own.

Eleven.

She wasn't sure how old Dr. Robby was but he looked considerably younger than that woman.

Connie Briggs was a maid. 

Maids had access to children.

"Sorry," Dr. Robby wipes his mouth. "I shouldn't be telling you this-" 

"I was thirteen." Trinity blurts out suddenly. When he looks up, she can't help but continue. "He was thirty four and my coach. Gymnastics, you know," she laughs ruefully.

" She was twenty five and the family maid." He grunts, grinding his palms against his scrubs. " I guess we're both alike."

"How'd you recognize her? I don't think I could pick him out of a lineup if I tried".

" The scar. I gave it to her the last time she-"

Trinity's chest burns with sincerity, " Good. She deserves that and worse." 

Dr. Robby just looks at her and she looks back, something passing between them.

"I'll have someone kick her out. People need the room more. She can wait in chairs."

" You don't have to-"

" You deserve to feel safe in your place of work Dr. Robinavitch. Just like dana and the others." Trinity repeats firmly. It's what her therapist has told her and she never once thought that she'd be repeating it to her boss of all people.

"Dana got punched in the face," Dr. Robby tries.

" If it makes you feel better, I can punch her in the face?" And she means it.

Dr. Robby eyes her like he's briefly considering it, " What you can do is grab me some water and my husband. "

She snorts but salutes him anways. It was rare that him and Jack ever interacted like anything but colleagues but she's seen the matching wedding bands. " Ay ay captain."

Chapter Text

She's staring at the patient when Robby comes in. It's less of a patient and more of a body now, a white sheet tucked over his head. 

"Javadi?" She turns and it's Robby. He looks every bit of a doctor, hoodie thrown over scrubs, stethoscope looped over a neck he keeps rubbing. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" 

Victoria's heart pounds like it always does when someone older than her tells her that. " Yeah, sure. What's up? " She slides past him and into the hall. 

He pulls her gently to a spot not bustling with staff before turning to her. "Did you want to be a doctor?" 

Her throat slams closed, "What- what do you mean?" 

"Like," Robby rubs his chin thoughtfully, "Medical school. Did you want to be a doctor?" 

" Uh, it's sort of a family trade?" Victoria winces at how dumb it sounds. 

Especially when he shakes his head, "No. I'm not asking you if your mom wanted you to be a doctor, do you want to be a doctor?" 

No one has ever asked her that before. Not really. "Of course." It comes out nervous and choked. 

Robby nods but pins her with a look. " Really? You've never thought of anything else?" 

Where was this going? " Not really sir. I'm good-"

"No I know. You're very good but good doesn't always equal want. You know I was only a couple years older than you when I was a third year. " He grins. 

She swallows again, " How old?"

"Twenty two and had no idea what I was doing."

It's hard to imagine Robby as anything but the tall, self assured older man that stands before her. One comfortable in his own skin.

"The only reason I'm asking is that you seem a bit...out of your comfort zone. I'm not trying to assume but it seems like you'd rather be anywhere but here, " he says it so gently that she wants to cry because no one's bothered with that. 

Even her mother who defacto assumed that she wanted to go to medical school and Victoria just never corrected her. 

He continues, "You look defeated after every shift and you don't seem to be sleeping. Which can be dangerous to you and to your patients. "

Then there's the shame, " I'm sorry." She murmurs. " I don't-"

"I promise I'm not trying to be rude or putting my nose where it doesn't belong but I'm just worried." He sort of bends over to look her in the eye. " But medical students are three times more at risk of suicide than anyone else." 

" I don't- I'm not depressed or anything!" Victoria's eyes widen and she shakes her head hard. " I promise!"

Robby's mouth twitches and a look that she can't decipher crosses his face. "It's very easy to become overwhelmed without the proper help. If you think this job isn't for you, there is no shame in that. If you feel that it's getting too much, say something. " Then his voice cracks a little with emotion. " Just don't let this job drown you. "

"I wanted to be an astronaut. " Victoria admits. She doesn't really know why but she does. 

Robby smiles at her, wide and genuine. "Really? Why?" 

"I don't know, space just seems so...quiet." 

" As opposed to medicine?" He teases.

She shrugs, "Maybe. And is it true?" 

Robby hums. "About the med students?" She supplies.

A hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, Robby looks past her, eyes hazy like he's remembering something further. "Yeah. You guys are under stress, at this point you have lives in your hands and people are screaming at you from every angle." 

" Sounds like you know from experience." Victoria observes and Robby's face tightens.

"When I was an intern, I lost a friend. He had all of these warning signs and no one did anything. We were all too caught up in ourselves to notice until he was wheeled in from under a train." It's a depressing confession, all haggard shame and regret. 

"I'm sorry," Victoria tells him, throat tight. "I'm not him though". 

When Robby smiles again, it feels legitimately happier. "Good. I don't want another him." 

She smiles back.

Chapter Text

Dennis Whitaker is not afraid of death.

He was a farmer's boy, born and bred in dirt and blood. Slaughterhouse cows, goats, chickens after the foxes get to them. Despite being the runt, despite being nothing in the grand scheme of things, he was not afraid. 

But now that it was his to control, life and everything after, he is trembling on the bench.

He had tried so hard, gave everything to her. She couldn't have been older than Javadi, just married. 

Her fiancee had begged him to save her, to help. But he was trying. 

And still-

It's dark out, eight already and sun firmly gone. It felt right, he didn't deserve light or warmth right now. He doesn't deserve Trinity or her food, her feet on his lap as they watch shitty reality shows. 

The air bites at him through the thin jacket, the only one that Trinity had not supplied herself. He stares into nothingness, letting it consume him for a moment.

"Whitaker?" Robby out of what feels like nowhere, appears. Abbot stands next to his husband with an assessing stare. Probably judging. 

Not that he blames him.

Robby nudges Abbot softly, "Go, I'll see you in the morning." Abbot squares his shoulders and presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

"Alright." Abbot grips his bag and nods sharply at Dennis before retreating back to the hospital. Kindred spirits.

Robby smiles at him, a thin, exhausted gesture. "Mind if I sit?" 

Dennis shuffles over, leaving plenty room for Robby to settle next to him. 

"Rough night?" He asks lightly. Dennis digs his nails into his palms. 

"Something like that. I just- I don't know how you do it." The words free something from him but it leaves his spine curled in on itself. 

Robby wrestles a cigarette carton from his pocket, taking one and wedging it between his teeth. "Do what?" 

He sucks in a trembling breath, all the shame boils over. "Death? People dying all the time. Even when I- I mean I did everything. I even cracked a couple of ribs doing CPR and she dies on her wedding night. " To his horror, hot tears prickle behind his eyes. 

A lighter appears and Robby dips the end into the flame, "People die Whitaker. It happens, as unfortunate as it is, they die." 

Dennis isn't stupid, he knows that. "That's not- " 

"So many get into this job thinking it's about saving lives," Robby takes a drag, slumping over as the nicotine hits. " Obviously it's a part of it but it's not about that. Superheroes are supposed to save people. "

So Dennis listens.

" No. It's about doing our jobs to the best of our ability and sometimes, that saves lives. Sometimes it works out perfectly and they get to go home and you get flowers from happy families that die because you have no time to water them." A short humorless laugh erupts from Robby and he rubs his chest gingerly. " And then sometimes it doesn't. "

He screams at Dennis, "Do something! Please! She's all I ever needed!" As she lays dying on the table. Mateo guides him out but he's inconsolable and wailing like a wounded animal. 

"Sometimes you miss something and the person dies from one little mistake and you go home with that. But then there's those- those people that you sweat and bleed for and it still doesn't work. You try everything, you crack ribs, you yell." Robby's face goes tight and he's somewhere else. " The ones you fucked up are easy, you understand that you do have the prowess, the tools to help them but the ones you can't- those are the ones you dream about. "

Robby's praying desperately, fingers wrapped around the chain as he rocks minutely. He is  afraid.

"So that's the point? Doing everything and getting nothing?" Dennis asks, it comes out rough and wet. 

Robby shakes his head, "No. The point is, you do all you can. Your job isn't saving people, it's helping them. It took me a decade to learn that, you know. That's the thing, helping. Doing all of it, going all out. Fighting the good fight. "

Dennis sags against the cold bench, " Fighting the good fight." 

"Yeah Dennis, " he stubs out the cigarette against the cracked plastic, " You fought the good fight. Like you did with her and like I did... Like I did for Leah. "

Robby stands and offers a hand to Dennis to pull himself up. " Go home Whitaker."

"Alright." 

Chapter Text

She barely snatches Marcie away just as the car heads straight for them. The narrowness of the flea market didn't allow for much room.

Her daughter falls flat on her butt, whimpering from the impact. Rachel drags her back a good foot by her hoodie just in case the asshole decides to do anything stupider. "Oh Jesus, are you alright?" 

Marcie nods, shaken. "What- what just happened?" 

She helps her daughter up, brushing her jacket off gingerly, "An asshole. Stay here, I'm going to go help." 

Marcie waves her off.

The SUV had plunged into the small crowd on the sidewalk, crumpling against the light pole. There's metal creaking and people shouting. A quick glance around the scene gives her several things:

There's bodies under the car and behind it.

There are a couple of people pinned against the wall. 

The driver is unconscious and bloody. 

Rachel takes a breath before darting into the midst. She kneels over the first person she sees under the tires and checks for a pulse. 

Nothing.

She spots a hand sticking out from under the car, the owner of it still concealed amass the churning metal. There's a pulse, surprisingly strong. "Can you hear me?" 

"Y-yes! Help me!" A woman shrieks. 

Rachel watches as the owner of the hand twitches it which was good, great even. "Okay, what's your name?" 

"Ella!" 

"Alrighty Ella, I'm Rachel and I'm a doctor, can you tell me where it hurts the most?" 

A broken sob and a cough, "My back and my legs. One of my legs is killing me." 

" That's actually good, means no paralysis and it also means it's going to be a lot easier getting you out. I'll help you just give me a moment okay? I will be right back, I promise." Rachel shifts on the broken glass, wincing as it cuts into her knee. "I am going to get some help." (And triage the others)

"Please hurry!" The woman sobs. Rachel's breath catches in her chest momentarily, her own sister Ella wasn't here. Wasn't pinned under a car, she was at some fancy art program a thousand miles away from all of this.

Rachel interlocks her hand with Ella's gently, "I will. You just sit tight." She looks around, terrified onlookers mill about awkwardly. There's one, a man closest to her, maybe twenty four/twenty five. "Hey, you!" 

He points at himself in surprise, "me?" 

"Yes, you. Get over here." Rachel practically drags him by his shirt sleeve over to where Ella's hand was sticking out. "Do you know how to check for a pulse?" 

He nods, " uh y-yeah. "

" Great, I need you to sit there and keep her company. Check her pulse and if it starts slowing down or she becomes unresponsive, I need you to come find me. What's your name?"

" Jason?" He blinks, forehead a little bloody from what was probably debris. 

"Okay, Ella?" Ella murmurs questioningly, "Jason is going to keep you company." 

She leaves them and jogs to the people pinned to the wall. A woman slumps against it, lips pale and bloodless. She presses two fingers to the side of her neck. Nothing. 

Shit.

She checks again but it's useless. There's blood steadily pouring down her legs, skirt and skin twisted. 

Shaking it off, Rachel moves on. The next is a young looking boy, barely sixteen if she had to guess. He's obviously alive but pinned from the waist down. "Hey! You gotta help me outta here man!" 

Rachel goes around the other side to get a better look, " Can you feel your legs?"

He shook his head, eyes wide. "A guy already asked me that. And no, no I can't." 

" Whoah- what guy?" She asks, brows furrowing. He points over her shoulder. There is a man, older and bearded crouched over a body splayed out. " That guy?"

"Yeah! Said his name was Robby and that he was a doctor." The boy nods again before rubbing at his chest desperately, "Everything hurts." 

"I know, I know. We can't move the car because there's people under it but there should be paramedics and firefighters here shortly and we'll get you free." She soothes, wiping blood from the boy's forehead. God, he couldn't be much younger than Marcie. "Can you breathe okay?" 

"Robby already asked me that," he scoffs a little. She decidedly does not miss having a fifteen year old.

"A lot can change in a couple of minutes." She reminds him.

He sighs, " my chest is a little tight but it's fine."

Rachel makes a mental note to check him over again. "Alright. Hang in there." 

Jogging over to the man, she calls out, "Robby?" 

He looks up and there's something that about him that gives her pause. He's older, older than her at least with a grey streak in his beard and a distinguished nose. She shakes it off and continues marching towards him. He stands up and gives her a tight smile, "Yes?" 

"You're a doctor right?" 

He nods, red creeping up his cheeks, "That i am." 

"I'm Rachel and was wondering if you need some help? I'm an Emergency Physician." She looks down at the body. The person was very, very dead.

He relaxes a little, "No shit? Me too actually. And," he swings an arm at the chaos around them. "I would definitely appreciate all the help I could get." 

So they buckled down and got to work. They triaged people, a little girl with a dislocated knee, a man with a large cut from his thigh to his knee. A woman pronounced dead, another with a broken arm, two with pelvic crush injuries and a lost little boy who's mom they can't find. Rachel sends him to stand next to Marcie who waves at them.

"She yours?" Robby asks kindly, wrapping the makeshift shirt tourniquet around the man's leg. Rachel waves back and nods.

"Marcie, sixteen turning seventeen in the fall. What about you? Have any kids?" She asks, not missing the way his face falls a little.

Robby tightens the shirt, apologizing gently when the man moans in pain, "Complicated. Ex girlfriend's kid from her late husband." 

" Mhm," Rachel murmurs, " I get that. I was that kid." 

"Really? Well, I'm sure that made Christmas fun," Robby grins.

" You...you look like someone I know," Rachel remarks, helping the man lean up against one of the fruit stalls. 

Robby's fingers still on the makeshift bandage, "You work around here? Like at Presby?" 

She laughs a little, " No, not from here. I'm actually from Chicago visiting some old family friends."

His eyes widen and they regard each other, " Uh, wow. Where do you work?"

"County. Shit hole of a hospital-" 

Before she could continue, Jason runs up frantic, " Ella! Ella! She's not breathing or talking and her pulse is super like shallow" he panics, pointing at the car.

" Okay, okay!" Rachel is up and running again.

Sure enough, Ella doesn't respond to her name or a pinch to the arm. Her pulse is thready. Fuck.

It's a whirlwind of panic when the firefighters get the car off. Robby grabs Ella and informs her that her hands are shaking and that she has a daughter to get out. He effortlessly presses his hands against the wound. A large ragged hole in her chest from where the pole holding up a canopy had impaled her and promptly got ripped out when she shifted. 

Robby has his hands for better or for worse inside the actual wound, "I'm a doctor. Michael Robinavitch and I work at Pittsburgh Trauma medical center which is the closest hospital currently."

The male paramedic leans down, " I need you to remove your hand from her sir. "

" I am currently the only thing clamping down on this girl's aorta and keeping her from bleeding out. I literally cannot let go or she will die." He says calmly.

Marcie hugs Rachel's arm tighter as they watch the scene unfold. "Is she going to be okay?" 

"I don't know. I hope so." Rachel says simply. "Do you still have your phone on you?" 

She nods, tight curly hair slipping from her bun in the excitement. 

"Call mama and she's going to pick you up and take you to the hotel, all right? Tell her we're going to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical center." Rachel presses a kiss on her daughter's forehead and marches her out of the mess of blood and dead people. She sees it on pretty much a daily basis but Marcie was sensitive and tightly wound in a way that Rachel had never been at that age. Hell, Nat Geo documentaries freaked her out. 

She escorts them to the car, opening the door for Marcie and then sliding into the drivers seat as Marcie talks to Lillian.

"-and there was blood and stuff everywhere, it was really scary." A pause. "You want to talk to mom? Mom, " Marcie gives her the phone. 

" Thank you baby, Hi Sweetheart."

"Apparently the flea market was eventful, huh?" Lillian asks, voice steady. "Mars said you wanted me to pick her up? "

Rachel feels the tension unravel from her like yarn on a spool, " Yeah. She saw more than I think she should've. Tonight, why don't y'all stay in and order something? No more excitement. "

Lillian laughs, a soft and raspy thing that Rachel could live on forever if she needed to. " Well, what about you?" 

"What about me?" 

" Don't do that. You should veto the dinner, I'm sure they'd understand."

Rachel scoffs, " I see this stuff everyday Lilly. Plus, I'd never forgive myself for missing this."

" Alright, well, I've learned my lesson trying to talk you into relaxing. Though, I'm sure you can feel my judgment. Where are y'all going again? Pittsburgh Medical? "

" Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Remember that shooting that happened last year? They were hailed as being heroes in practically every single medical journal." Rachel honks angrily as she gets cut off, one of the ambulances swerving out of sight. 

Lillian hums, "Babe, I'm an arborist. I have not read the journals. But I'll be there in a few, Google maps says it's gonna be about twenty or so. "

" I'll meet you there. "

Rachel gets there in record time, grabbing a seat for marcie and forcing her to sit down. " Hi, I'm so sorry but i was just at the flea market? "

The nurse looks up, his curls swinging around. "Alright. Name?" 

"Oh no, I wasn't hurt but I'm looking for a specific patient, her name is Ella? I was one of the doctors on scene? " She tries hopefully. 

The male nurse raises his eyebrows just as another nurse walks in, " Matteo!" She's blonde and perky looking. " Oh sorry hon, didn't mean to interrupt."

She shrugs, " It's alright. Just checking to see if a patient has come in yet. I helped her out on scene."

" Alrighty, what's your name?" The blonde asks warmly.

" Uh Rachel- Rachel Greene? I work at County in Chicago."

" I'm Dana, why don't we grab some coffee in the lounge." She says, moving to open the door for her.

"Oh me and my daughter actually came together." 

" That's alright, we have soda if you don't mind feeding a teenager some sugar." Dana smiles at her and Rachel smiles back.

Marcie still looks spacey when Rachel gathers her and walks her back. They are promptly shoved into the lounge by Dana who she learns is the charge nurse. Rachel is given proper shitty hospital coffee and some Mountain Dew for Marcie who huddles into herself. "Sorry about taking up space." 

"Don't worry about it honey. So, doctor? " Dana pours herself some coffee. 

" Emergency," Rachel grins and inhales practically half of her garbage liquid in a cup, "Met one of yours, uh Robby I think." 

Dana scrubs at her face, "Of course he's there." She remarks almost to herself. 

" Waiting for him to bring in Ella actually."

Five minutes later and the patients start hitting. Dana leaves them to go help.

Then two minutes after that, there's shouting. She peeks her head outside and there's Robby on top of Ella, hand still holding her life. "She needs to go up to the OR now!" He yells at one of the dark haired doctors. "Walsh, is there a room set up?" 

"Yep. And you're coming with." Walsh tells him and then seems to catch sight of Rachel. "Who the hell is that?" 

Robby turns his head, still keeping pressure. Dana remarks, "Doctor Greene, she was on scene and helping." At the sentence, Robby jumps a little and Walsh reminds him to keep pressure.

They wheel the gurney and Robby up with it. 

She waits awhile before someone comes back in the lounge. Marcie is handed off to Lillian and Rachel banishes herself again to the room but not before assuring them that she'll meet them at the hotel.

The door opens and it's Robby.

"How is she?" Rachel jumps to her feet. 

Robby throws his bloody gloves into the trash and sighs, "Don't know. They managed to stabilize her when I left but I couldn't tell you much else. What about you?" 

She slinks back into her seat as Robby searches for coffee cups. " Fine. A little tired but fine, you?"

"So County?" He clumsily dodges the question as he pours himself a cup of coffee. 

"Yeah." 

"Long way from home. Want some more?" He gestures the coffee pot at her.

Rachel shakes her head, " No thanks. And I'm here to meet some friends. Well, my dad's friends. "

He pours himself a cup and joins her at the table, " Your dad wouldn't happen to be Mark Greene, would it?"

At the mention of her father, she flinches a little. " So he is. You know him?" 

Robby plays a bit with the cup, rubbing a nail across it, "Yeah. Yes, yes I did. I- uh, changed my name awhile back. Robinavitch was my mother's maiden name and Michael was my brother's middle name. When I knew your father, he knew me was Carter." 

The name flashes in her head along with an accompanying image. A tall, thin man with thick hair and a sweet smile, bringing her snacks behind her dad's back. " John Carter?" 

"You remember me?" 

She scoffs a little, "Are you joking? Of course I do. Surgical intern turned ER darling, you know they still talk about you." 

The crows feet deepen around his eyes as he smiles, " Really? Why?"

"Well, you were an amazing doctor. Fantastic teacher and an even better person. I mean your clinic is still up and running, I volunteer there on the weekends." She blink, he look...different. Good but different. 

"I'm glad that it's going well. I wasn't sure of myself when I handed it off to Luka." He looks almost uncomfortable at the praise, face getting progressively redder. "But you- I mean you're all grown up!" Again, changing the subject.

Rachel lets it slide with a laugh, " I guess. I'm thirty seven about to turn thirty eight." About to be the same age as her dad when he died. She doesn't say that though. " Makes me feel old as shit."

Her cursing seems to startle Robby (Carter?) a little, "Old as shit. I felt that." 

"Why'd you leave?" She asks. It probably wasn't her place and it definitely wasn't her business but she couldn't help it.

His mouth twitches. "It's a long story." 

"So is everything." 

Robby looks tired as always, " I guess. I went back after uh my friend Luka went missing in Africa and I just- couldn't come back. There was nothing to come back to. Not really. So I stayed with Doctors Without Borders and got sent to Afghanistan to do some gold and help civilians. Had to go by a different name for security reasons. Met my husband there. He got discharged and convinced me to come back here."

Rachel understands the urge to just get up and leave it all behind. " Did it help?"

"With what?" 

"Leaving County. I mean that's a big change." 

" Did you know what happened to the um, that student that got murdered at County? 2000?" Robby suddenly asks, eyes fixed firmly to his coffee cup.

Yeah of course she had. It was some fucked urban legend that she couldn't hash out if it was real or not. But she had always chalked them up to being spooky stories that nurses told the new interns to keep them in line. "Yeah, yeah. So it's not like a tall tale to scare the newbies?" She remarks.

A little half smile quirks up but it doesn't look right. " No it was real. Her name was Lucy and she died in Trauma room six."

" Oh."

" Most of the stories get it wrong though. There were- there were two people that were stabbed that night. Lucy was one of them." His hands are trembling a little. " I was the other."

Something in Rachel twists violently. 

"We weren't found for hours, you know? Whatever, it doesn't really matter. What does is that I didn't cope well with it. Turned to pain meds and other assorted bullshit to help. A lot of people helped me, your father got me to rehab." 

A lonely tear slides down her cheek. "Really?" 

"Yes. All the bad shit, all the nasty things I remembered from County, he wasn't one of them. I couldn't tell you how many times he helped me get to where I am now." He sighs and it, like his hands, tremble. "But it hadn't been enough. So I left." 

" You should come to dinner with me." Rachel says suddenly. 

" What?"

" Dinner. Tonight. I'm meeting my dad's old coworkers for his birthday. Uh, Kerry, Carol, Susan, Benton and Jing Mai I think. Elizabeth is also in town. Come to dinner."

Robby frowns, looking cornered. " I- I can't."

"Ca-Robby, they miss you and talk about you all the time. Especially Benton, he finally transferred back to County." She thumps against the table, " Him and Reese will be there actually."

" How are they?'

"Last I heard, Reese went to law school-"

Robby actually laughs, " The last thing that family needs is someone else who argues for a living."

Rachel giggles right with him, " I know! Anyways, come." She sobers a little, " It'll be closure. Or at least our version of it."

" I'll think about it." Robby eventually says, sagging down.

Chapter Text

"Is this okay?" Robby asks again, hands fumbling at his shirt buttons. " Jack! "

Jack's attention is pulled away from his husband's backside to grab him by the shoulders, "Robby, baby. Look at me." Robby turns his sad brown eyes to him, "Your shirt is fine. Your pants are fine, your socks might not be matching but they are also fine. It's not your parent's gala or some business transaction, you're having dinner in a restaurant and not even a fancy one. "

" My socks aren't matching?" Robby whines, hiking his jean leg up to look sadly at the offensive clothing item. 

"Is that the only thing you took from that?" 

Robby pouts and crosses his arms, " Don't patronize me."

Jack ignores him in favor of grabbing his jacket, "You're deflecting." He takes the liberty of shoving his husband away from the full length mirror on his closet. "Now come on, we're going to be late." 

" Did your therapist tell you that?" Robby gripes but allows himself to be manhandled out of the bedroom all the same. "What if they hate me?" He runs another hand through his hair, sticking it straight up before coming to a complete stop.

Jack grunts as he smacks into his shoulder, "Jesus you're like a fucking tree trunk. No, they don't hate you or else Rachel wouldn't have invited you. Here," he grabs Robby's keys that were sitting in the decorative bowl next to the couch and hands them to him. "Your hair is being insane."

Robby is nothing but a good husband and lets Jack lay his hair flat. "Thanks, you bully." 

"Stop procrastinating and get a move on or I will invite all of them into our home and force you to entertain them." The threat works and Robby goes white. If there was anything Robby hated more than being forced to listen to Gloria, it was impromptu house guests. "That's what I thought. Get a move on." 

The restaurant was in fact, a bar with a karaoke stage that Robby was eying a little too excitedly for Jack's comfort. 

It wasn't too busy but enough that Jack couldn't tell who they were supposed to join. It looked like Robby didn't either, looking around nervously. 

A woman with frizzy brown curls taps him on the shoulder. He turns and for the first time since they got there, Robby smiles.

He lurches forward and swipes her up in a hug, "Rachel!" 

She laughs and clings to him, she's younger than them probably around thirty or so. Rachel Greene, this must be her. Jack's seen photos of her father and there lies some resemblance there in her nose and mouth. Same kind eyes. "Carter- er, Robby! Sorry, still getting used to it." Rachel rocks to her toes and preases a chaste, friendly kiss to his cheek. 

"No worries. This is my husband Jack!" Robby looks over fondly and Jack can't help but grin.

"Hey, you must be Doctor Greene." Jack puts a hand out for her to shake. "I'm Jack Abbot." 

Rachel's cheeks go a little pink, "oh please call me Rachel! Let's get y'all something, Lizzy has a tab open." 

" I'm down. Come on, " he slings an easy arm over Rachel's shoulder and they seem comfortable in the way a younger sister might be with her brother. " Jack, you coming? " Of course Robby notices his hesitation. 

There's a part of him that wants to leave Robby to it, too scared to interfere with something so intimate but he swallows it down and hooks Robby's hand in his own. It's warm and familiar. 

They order drinks, Robby gets himself a gin and tonic and Jack gets a club soda. Rachel chatters noisily about her wife and her daughter, she reminds him a lot of Mel in some ways. She eventually leads them to a table filled with people and cups half drunk.

There's a woman with similar curly hair but blonde, an older woman with deep red hair and a cane, another blonde who was busy downing a shot, and a dark skinned man with a younger guy next to him. Father and son if he were to guess. Standing with her back to them was a tall woman with a head full of ebony curls. 

"Well I'll be damned. I can't believe I'm the only one here with thinning hair," Robby laughs.

Everyone turns at once and Rachel gives them some very enthusiastic jazz hands. " This was my surprise!"

"I'm sorry?" The blonde with the bob asks, head cocking politely. The dark haired woman looks him up and down.

"Jeez Susan, hello to you too." Robby grins.

The dark haired woman squeaks and barrels into him for a hug, "Carter?" 

"Hey Carol!" He hugs her back and sighs. Everyone at once starts to speak.

"No shit!" The blonde gasps.

"Oh my-!" The other blonde woman murmurs, hand pressed to her mouth. Her accent is sharp and very British. 

The red head just smiles warmly, "John." 

The handsome dark skinned man peels Robby off of Carol to sweep him up into his own bone crushing hug. "Where the hell have you been?" 

"Long story. Hey guys." 

Eventually, the shock wears off and Jack is introduced to them all. Lizzy was apparently the very British Elizabeth Corday, the other blonde was Susan Lewis, Kerry Weaver was the red head and the man was Peter Benton with his son Reese who waves at Jack. Robby introduces Jack to them as his husband without hesitation to which they all greet him warmly. 

Rachel steals a couple of chairs from the next table and they all sit down, sandwiched between Kerry and Benton. 

"So, how are you guys?" Robby tries. They send him incredulous looks as if to say what the fuck.

"What the hell do you mean how are we?" Carol demands, "How are you?" 

Robby blinks, " Good. I've been alright. Still a doctor you know how it is. I- uh, go by Robby now. Michael from my brother's name and Robinavitch for my mother's maiden name."

He pats Robby on the thigh. " Actually, it's been kind of rough," Robby finally admits. " Nothing I can't handle though. " 

This gets him a few concerned looks. 

It's Kerry who speaks up next, "well, we have all night. What's wrong?" Everyone nods. 

" I-" he can see when Robby is about to deny it but something shifts and Robby sighs, " Remember the Pittfest shooting?"

Another group nod.

" Yeah, terrible what happened. But handled excellently, they're thinking of teaching it aren't they?" Rachel asks brightly.

" Yeah, for response times I think. What, six people died?" Peter adds. Jack rubs his husband's thigh.

"Eight actually. Two more a few weeks later. And yeah, uh they wanted to hand out rewards and shit. I run the Pitt, the Pittsburgh Trauma center when it happened." 

The air feels heavier like it always did when the topic of Pittfest was brought up. Jack spent hours scrubbing under his nails for blood, he had found a miscellaneous streak of blood on one of the buckets next shift. 

Elizabeth tuts quietly, "must have been a lot. I'm so sorry." Robby thanks her. 

" You know there's nothing wrong with a little extra help outside of work for these situations, " Kerry says gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. It's motherly and steady. " I-"

At the mention of therapy, Robby stiffens a little. "I actually do go. Twice a week." It had taken a long time for him to let go of whatever deep set shame he always held on to. It had taken him even longer for him to realize that he can save himself too. 

Kerry blinks rapidly and for a moment, Jack could have sworn there was a tear that slipped free. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. Not to get all sappy on you but-" 

Everyone laughs and Jack nudges Robby with a grin. 

"But, you haven't always had it easy. You struggled a lot afterwards with being okay. God, you have no idea how it feels to watch you now. All grown up." She sniffles a little. 

" Kerry, I was always an adult, " Robby snorts but it's watery and his eyes are a little red. 

"I know you were. It's not about physically growing up but you growing into the confident physician you are today." Another smile, this time wistfully. "I'm just sorry it had to happen through all of that." 

Robby rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully, " You're right, this is very sappy of you." 

The table bursts into boisterous laughter. Kerry claps him on the back before turning to Jack. "Alright, how did you two meet?" 

"He was working in Afghanistan, Doctors without Borders and my platoon happened to find the dingy little clinic. There was this sweaty guy in a flimsy tank top and a revolver on his hip. He was the last of the clinic workers, most had already fled the occupied area but he refused to leave. Told me to shove my AR up my ass." Jack squeezed Robby's hand firmly. " Stayed with him while the rest of the platoon went off to find some workers to help. "

Susan snorts, "God, you were always such a bleeding heart Ca-Robby." Her gaze goes a little glassy, " I'm proud."

"Oh dear God, don't get all in your feelings now." Robby rolls his eyes playfully before raising his shot glass. "Okay I want to make a toast-" 

"Wait!" Benton interrupts, "We're still waiting on more people." 

"Person. Pratt couldn't come," Lizzy reminds him with a swift kick under the table that rattles their drinks.

So they wait. They all chitter among themselves until a smartly dressed Asian woman pops up over Robby's shoulder. 

His face lights up, "Deb?" 

She blinks once. Twice.

"Holy shit. Carter?" 

Another is added to their group and Jack is peppered with stories of a very young Robby from having his foot wrapped in a cast to him doing a field amputation via phone call because Lizzy was in labor. He's told about Deb's accidental acid trip and her shocking Robby. He laughs and even sheds a little tear at how peaceful Robby looks.

It's not that they've ever felt incomplete but this was undeniably Carter. 

Robby brandishes his glass again, "Okay now that everyone is here, I'd like to make a toast!" 

They hoot amd Benton makes an approving grunt.

"When I was in Afghanistan, I'd wake up thinking that I was at County, over sleeping for a shift. And when I woke up, I was alone again. I- I missed being Carter but I don't regret who I am now. So this is both a toast and an official apology." 

The table goes silent and they pretend not to hear Robby sniffle as he stands.

"My back still hurts like a motherfucker, I can still hear Benton screaming Carter at me. God Kerry, I still remember that basement that you rented to me." Kerry's nose is tipped pink and she looks on the verge of tears. "Susan, you helped me when I was being a little asshole during my second year, talked some sense into me. The point I'm trying to get at is, I don't regret you guys. Or who I was. " 

Robby looks a proper mess, eyes rimmed red and laughing awkwardly. " I had a lot of fun and a lot of love for County and I think I always will. And God, I miss Mark like a lung most days. So, to who we were then and to who we are now." He raises his glass and they all do the same.

"To Mark," Lizzy murmurs. Everyone nods. 

" To John Carter." Jack says, catching Robby's eye. The little smile there felt like it was worth a million and he knows that he would never give it up. Ever. 

They all rejoice in that as someone calls out "To Robby!" And they finally take a swig.

Michael Robinavitch's ring glints on his finger. To John Carter, to Robby, To Michael, to the man who he's missed even when they hadn't found each other yet.