Work Text:
It started with Trinity Santos.
It was probably supposed to be a joke. Robby wasn’t quite sure what the joke was, though.
“Uh, come again?” He exchanged a look with Dana next to him. She shrugged back.
Santos’ eyes sparkled with mirth, bouncing her gaze back and forth between the two. “What are your plans for the weekend?” she asked again.
Except that hadn’t been exactly what she had asked.
“No, no,” said Robby, starting to laugh. “Did you call us mom and dad?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, like he was being dumb on purpose. “You’re the ER parents. Like the mom friend or the dad friend, but for work.” She gestured to Dana, emphasizing, “Dad,” then to Robby, emphasizing, “Mom. You didn’t know this?”
Robby spluttered his indignation. “Why am I the mom? I’m not a girl.”
“Motherhood is a state of mind, dear,” said Dana, grinning as she laid a gentle hand on his upper arm.
“But I have dad jokes!”
“So do I,” Santos replied dryly. “Hey,” she added defensively with her hands raised placatingly when Robby glared at her. “I don’t make the rules. I just follow ‘em.”
“You don’t even like following the rules!” he shouted after her as she walked away.
She just pointed a finger up. “That’s why you’re the mom!”
Robby scoffed as she walked away. “Can you believe this? The disrespect,” he grumbled playfully.
Dana was laughing next to him. “You’re not beating the mom allegations, honey. Just embrace it! Have a little whimsy.”
“Pfft. Whimsy? What’s that?”
Dana rolled her eyes. “Get back to work, mama.”
Robby gave her a funny look, but… Honestly? He wasn’t upset by it. It was actually kind of… nice, made him feel those warm fuzzies Jack liked to joke about sometimes. Funny, at least. As long as it didn’t get out of hand, he could tolerate the joke.
And then it got out of hand.
Somehow, it had breached containment. After Santos had called him mom and Dana dad to their faces, other nurses and doctors started calling them that. It had even crossed shifts and Ellis had called Dana “Daddy” first thing in the morning at handoff. Dana had spluttered and gasped and had been so speechless that Robby had just laughed and laughed at her.
And then he started to call her that.
Because, hey, if you can’t beat ‘em, why not join ‘em?
“Hey, daddy! What’s open?” he called out while wheeling a gurney in from the ambulance.
All commotion stopped as heads snapped towards him. Dana, though, just rolled her eyes and directed them to Trauma 2.
“You call her daddy?” asked Santos gleefully after transferring the patient.
“Don’t act surprised,” Robby just grumbled back, handing her the ultrasound. “You started this.”
“I didn’t call her daddy,” was her quip.
And Robby didn’t leave it there, either. If someone asked him a dumb question he didn’t want to answer and he wanted to bother Dana, he would always answer, “Go ask your dad,” loud enough for Dana to hear and would point them Dana’s way. Dana gave it right back, telling annoying med students, “Go ask your mother, why don’tcha,” and shoo them his direction.
It got to the point where it was a tossup to what a coworker would call them. Sometimes they used their names, sometimes called them mom and dad, or mama and daddy, depending on the mood and person. Trinity loved to call them mama and daddy and always had a grin on her face doing so. Whitaker and Mel refused to use anything but their names, and Javadi looked mortified the one time she accidentally called Robby mom. Robby had laughed so hard at the face she had pulled that he had nearly thrown up from it.
“Get a grip, Robinavitch,” Dana muttered, kicking his chair with a grin.
By the time the eve of his sabbatical rolled around, it wasn’t uncommon for the Pitt to hear a daddy or mama or mom or dad yelled out across the floor from every which way and from multiple people multiple times a day.
“Yo, mama! Somebody ditched a bundle of joy in chairs,” Dana called out as Robby neared with Al-Hashimi.
“How old?” Robby asked, concerned. He immediately followed after Dana, falling into step as they redirected towards peds.
“I’m sorry—Did she just call you mama?” Al-Hashimi asked, appalled.
She sounded almost… horrified, for some reason? Robby shook his head. She was so weird. “Yeah,” he answered anyway. “Everyone here calls me mama, or mom. We call Dana daddy or dad. Not a big deal—just some friendly nicknames,” he added at her concerned look.
“I think that’s inappropriate—”
“We like the names!” said Robby, throwing his hands out to encompass the whole ED. “It’s like we’re the group mom and dad. It’s fun, it’s whimsical, and you don’t have to call us that if you don’t want to.” He paused to turn to her head on with a curious tilt of his head. He did not like the defiant look she was giving him. “You don’t have to call us that. But you cannot demand our friends and coworkers can’t. There’s nothing inappropriate about the nicknames. You can pull your crusade about the Pitt all you want, but I will not tolerate one against us, yeah?”
Al-Hashimi blinked at him in surprise. “But—It’s harassment—”
“Not when we consented to the nicknames,” Robby argued back. Sure, he may have been unsure at the beginning, but now he fucking loved the names. He turned to Dana with a grin. He wanted this to be a good last day, and he was not going to let his replacement ruin that. Not when it wasn't even eight in the morning yet. “Now, daddy, how old’s the baby?” he asked pointedly.
Because they were here for the job, and he wanted a bit of g-ddamn whimsy.