Work Text:
You love your cat. You really do, but when she has her zoomies and you never know where she’s gonna be, that’s when you have a problem with her. Because now you’re in pain.
“Michael!” you cry out for your boyfriend who’s in the other room.
When Robby rushes into the kitchen, he sees you on the floor, “Shit, honey! What happened?”
“Cleo has the zoomies. I tripped trying not to step on her and now my ankle fucking hurts.”
“Okay. I’m here. Can you move your ankle?” When you try to immediately hiss in pain, “Alright. Okay, no more of that. I’m going to check the tenderness. Tell me where it hurts?”
He gently starts lighting pressing around your ankle and then a sharp pain shoots up, “There!”
Robby sighs, “You probably sprained your ankle. I’m gonna help you stand and see if you can bear weight on it.”
You nod and Robby grabs your arms, lifting you up. You slowly lower your leg down, pressing weight lightly on it. Another sharp pain. You’re shaking your head, trying to keep yourself from crying.
“You’re doing great, baby. It’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s a sprain, but I wanna bring you to the hospital to make sure there aren’t any fractures.”
You can’t help but chuckle, “That seems extreme.”
He shrugs, “I wanna cover all our bases. Jack’s working tonight so I’ll ask him to fast track you.”
“That seems unfair to everyone else waiting.”
“Well everyone in the waiting room else isn’t dating the chief attending,” he helps you to the couch where you sit, “I’m just going to grab my stuff and we’ll head over. Okay? Do you want me to grab anything?”
“Just my bag and my phone on the counter.”
“Got it. Sit tight.”
“Don’t have a choice since I can’t really move,” you give him a shrug and wait.
Cleo jumps onto the couch, nudging your arm with her head. You sigh, petting her, “Cleo, baby, I love you, but this is your fault.” The tabby cat looks up at you and meows, nuzzling into your hand. You snort, “Yeah, I love you too.”
Even when you were fast tracked, you still had to weight a while for imaging and the results. You knew PTMC’s ED was hectic at all hours of the day, but you didn’t think it’d be this hectic.
You can tell Robby, the control-freak that he is, wanted to jump in to help. You can tell the way he was pacing your room, glancing out every time someone passed.
You chuckle and he turns at the sound, “What?”
“You’re such a workaholic.”
Robby places his hands on his hips, “Am not.”
“Suuuure. Do you wanna know how many times you glanced out there every time someone passed?”
“No.”
“Twenty-five within the past few minutes.”
He looks down and scratches the back of his neck, “Sorry. You’re in pain and I’m here just wanting to jump back into work.”
You pat your bed and he sits at the spot. You take his hands in yours, “Why don’t you use that medical expertise on me? What’s the likelihood it’s fractured?”
“Not likely, but imaging will let us know. If anything, it’s a grade two sprain.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your sprain is moderate. It hurts to the point you can’t stand or bear weight on it.”
“Treatment plan?”
Robby sighs, “Lots of rest. Elevating your ankle and staying off it for several days. Icing it to reduce swelling and pain medication to manage the pain.”
Jack steps into the room with an iPad, “Imaging is back. No breaks or fractures, which is good. Just looks like a Grade Two sprain.”
Robby looks at you with a knowing look, “Called it.”
You rolled your eyes, “So pain meds, icing, staying off my feet, elevate the ankle.”
Jack nods, “Yes, yes, and yes. I’m sure our cap here will take care of you just fine. His bedside manner can be iffy though.”
You giggle at Jack and Robby roles his eyes, “Alright, Abbot. I got it from here. Let me know when I can take them home.”
“On it,” Jack nods and then looks to you, “Nice seeing you, even in these circumstances.”
“Good to see you too, Jack,” you give him a wave and he leaves the room. You put your attention back on Robby, “I hope you’re not calling out to take care of me.”
Robby gives you a look saying ‘Of course I am’, “Honey, you have to be off your feet. How’re you gonna use the bathroom or eat or feed Cleo?”
“We have crutches in the garage that I can use! Michael, be serious. I know how much your job means to you, so don’t call out. I’ll be fine.”
He shakes your head, “The first two days of recovery are crucial. I want to be there to make sure nothing goes wrong because I know how being off your feet is going to annoy you. So let me help you so you can have a speedy recovery. If anything, Jack or Shen can take my place.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
You’d forgotten how much of a mother hen Robby was when it came to taking care of you. As soon as you two got home, he set you into bed and began scurrying all over the house getting everything that you need.
It was endearing at first, but then it became overbearing.
It came to a point when he tried to spoon feed you your takeout.
“Michael, honey, my hands work just fine. I can feed myself.”
“But-”
“Hey,” you place a calming hand on his shoulder, “I’m not dying. I just have a sprained ankle. I’ll be fine. If I need anything, I’ll let you know. Just…relax,” you run a finger over his eyebrows to smooth out the furrowing.
He chuckles to himself and shakes his head, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just-I wanna make sure you’re not in pain or anything.”
You shake your head, “I’m not, thanks to the meds. I’m fine. Just rest with me?”
“Sure,” he goes around the bed, sliding into his side. He sits up against the headboard and you hand him his takeout. You both eat your food while the next episode of Bridgerton begins to play.
“Thank you though, for taking care of me,” you say in-between bites.
Robby turns to you and softly smiles, “Always,” he rasps out and kisses your head.