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There was a storm blowing through Pittsburgh and the ER was slow. There were two patients in the whole department and none were waiting in chairs. It was a strange and rare occurrence, one that everyone knew to appreciate and take advantage of. Some of the doctors were taking naps in the bays, some of the nurses and PA’s were playing card games on patient beds, but pretty much everyone else was gathered around the central hub, scrolling through their phones and chatting quietly.
“Anyone wanna see a picture of Robby as an intern?” Dana asked no one in particular. “It’s a good one.”
“Uh, yes,” Santos said, putting her phone down and leaning over the desk.
Dana snorted, shaking her head, and flipped her phone around.
“Oh, my God,” Santos said.
“Aw!” McKay said, leaning in for a closer look. “He was so cute!”
“And he didn’t have a beard,” Mel pointed out, nodding approvingly. “He was very cute.”
“Yeah, the beard only came around during COVID,” Dana said, taking her phone back. “He was usually either clean-shaven or with just a little scruff.”
“Where’d you find the photo of the little twink?” Santos asked.
“Instagram.” Dana smiled at her phone again. “He really was a twink, wasn’t he? Oh, this is back in his earring days.”
“His earring days?” Whittaker repeated in shock.
The conversation continued as Santos scrolled through Instagram. She found the post that Dana had shown them, but there wasn’t much else. There were a few others with Robby, but they were all from his internship and residency in New Orleans. There was one which showed a group of very tired and soggy-looking doctors, Robby amongst them, which must have been the picture listed as “Mid-Katrina Group Shot” in the description. Santos clicked on the account and quickly slid into the guy's DMs.
Hey, I’m an intern under one of the doctors in your post, Dr. Robinavich. Do you have any more pictures of him?
***
It was a few hours before she got a reply. She had to prove that she actually knew Robby, but when she did (having gotten him to take a selfie with her under the guise of boredom), she was gifted with so many pictures. The guy must have been a friend of Robby’s for a while; some of the pictures seemed to go back to high school. She waved Whittaker over to see them, excitement buzzing through her limbs. Javadi and Mohan leaned over to look, too, curiosity on their faces.
The first few pictures were more from Robby’s residency and internship. Him smiling brightly next to a patient, her arm in a sling, a wild blush across her cheeks. Another with a doctor, looking bemused as Robby smiled nervously next to him. A couple with nurses and other doctors, one where he was juggling what looked like packets of cast gauze.
“He looks so sweet,” Javadi said.
“So unburdened,” Mohan added.
Santos kept flicking through the pictures. There were a few from his med school days, a few from parties. There was one where Robby was very close to the camera, his face flushed, his eyes slightly unfocused, a wide, goofy grin on his face.
“He’s so drunk,” Santos chuckled.
Robby, with one eye scrunched up, his tongue stuck out.
“Is that…?” Whittaker started.
“Oh, yeah,” Dana said, peaking over his shoulder. She’d decided to look at the two patients they had, see if they needed anything, and was making her way back to her usual spot. “You never seen Robby’s tongue piercing?”
“No!” Santos laughed at the fierce blush spreading over Whittaker’s face. “He still has it?”
“He usually wears one of the clear ones. Makes Gloria less mad.” Dana patted Whittaker’s shoulder. “It’s alright, kid. Lotsa med students get a crush on Robby. It’ll pass.”
Whittaker sputtered as the girls laughed around him.
“Come on,” Santos said. “There’s more.”
The photos got younger as they went back. As they flicked through, they made comments and laughed at what they saw, the poses Robby was in, the people he was with. There was a set of them from when Robby was probably 19, maybe 20, that gave them pause. His hair was dyed an inky black, he wore baggy black clothes, and -
“Is he wearing eyeliner?” Javadi asked.
“Oh, yes, he is,” Santos said, feeling like it was Christmas.
Another, close up again, and Robby had a piercing in his left brow, a septum ring, and a loop around the middle of his bottom lip.
“Robby was a punk,” Mel commented.
“I did not expect that,” Santos said. “Looking at him now, you wouldn’t even think it was a thought.”
“Robby was in a band, too,” Dana said, smirking. “He was the lead singer.”
“Oh, my God,” Santos gasped.
Robby was posed with his back against a railing, his elbows resting on it, the sun setting somewhere to his left. There was enough light to see him clearly, and boy, did they see him. He had one hand raised to flip off the person behind the camera, his nails painted black. His jeans were black, too, and they were low on his hips, the bones visible through tight skin. He was shirtless, pale, with a line of dark hair leading from his navel to his underwear. What really stunned them into silence were the three piercings they hadn’t seen before. He had a clear gem in a silver setting through his belly button and one barbell through each nipple.
Princess looked over at the group, her eyebrow raised. She opened her mouth to speak when Robby interrupted, his voice loud in contrast to their silence.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
Santos looked up at him and then back down at her phone. She looked up at him again and then flipped her phone around, showing him the photo.
“Oh,” he said.
“Oh?” Santos repeated. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”
Robby shrugged. “What more should I say? You shouldn’t be looking at your phones when you’re on the floor? You shouldn’t be scouring the internet for pictures of me as a teenager? These are all things you should know, Santos.”
They stared as he walked away.
“Does he still have them?” Mel asked, genuinely curious.
“Yeah,” Dana said. “Ask Jack about them.” She smirked as the group of med students and doctors turned to look at her, each of them confused. “What? You didn’t know that they’re in a relationship?”
”Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot are dating?” Santos asked.
”For a few years now, yeah,” Perlah said.
“Whittaker,” Princess interrupted, amused. “Your nose is bleeding.”