Archive of Our Own

I.

Dana Evans was not stupid, thank you very much. She was a goddamn charge nurse who had been keeping this fucking hellhole afloat for thirty-odd years, never away for more than a week or two at a time. She could spot the beginnings of jaundice a mile away and handle a drunk-and-disorderly without breaking a sweat. All of that to say that she was not stupid, end of sentence. 

Although… maybe… she could stand to be a bit more observant at times. She would blame it on Robby starting therapy and downgrading his active suicidal ideation to passive. She had untensed, stopped watching him so intensely, let her vigilance of him fall to the wayside with the knowledge that he was doing much better. As such, she was not to be blamed for not noticing. 

It was no big deal, a normal day, a Tuesday full of broken arms and cardiac events. It wasn’t quiet, per se, but they had gotten a moment to breathe, which was how she ended up at the central hub, listening to Robby and Whitaker argue. 

“-but that’s so stupid,” she heard Whitaker mutter from behind his work station— Robby’s work station, really, but it practically belonged to the R2 as well, considering he used it almost as often as the attending. Dana almost snorted as she tuned in to the conversation, thinking to herself that the kid looked like an angry cat, frowning after having been dunked into a bathtub.

“I’m being loyal,” Robby defended from where he was leaning across the counter behind the workstation, so far forwards that he was hovering above the computer screen, refusing to leave the resident’s line of vision. 

Whitaker rolled his eyes though he stayed half-heartedly focused on his charting. “You’re betraying your state.”

“I’m standing by my city.”

Dana couldn’t help butting into the argument, curiosity winning out. “What are you two drama queens fighting about?”

“Oh, uh, the MLS,” Whitaker answered, finally looking up to politely meet her gaze, all of the bite he’d directed towards Robby vanishing. 

“Santos recently got into soccer and she’s been pulling Dennis into it,” Robby elaborated, and Dana couldn’t tell you why she didn't question in that moment why he knew that fact. “We’re talking about which team to support, since Pittsburgh doesn’t have one.”

“Robby doesn’t even have a team,” Whitaker complained, and the lack of honorific was so obvious in hindsight, though right then Dana had hardly questioned when the resident had gotten so comfortable with the attending. “He just roots for whoever is playing against Philly.”

“City loyalty,” Robby emphasized again, causing the younger man to roll his eyes once more and huff out an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, kid,” Dana offered to Whitaker. “I’m with Robby on this one. Fuck Philly.”

Whitaker groaned, leaning back in his— Robby’s— chair and glaring up at the ceiling, as if he was asking a higher power for strength. Robby grinned at that, but it wasn’t self-satisfied or smug the way it was when he was teasing Jack or making fun of Dana. This grin was soft, fond; it betrayed an indescribably large amount of affection, every ounce of it directed solely at Whitaker. Fuck, maybe Dana was an idiot, but hindsight was everything.

“Tell me who you’re supporting,” Robby finally conceded in a gentler register, like this conversation was just for him and Whitaker, despite the ER bustling around them. Despite being right next to him, Dana was long forgotten. “I’ll root for them too, buy a shirt and everything.”

“Really?” Whitaker asked, all sweet and hopeful. Christ, the kid was cute; Robby was probably thinking the same in that moment, not that Dana knew it then. 

Robby met his eyes, intense and so deeply affectionate. “Yeah, of course.”

Then, Whitaker’s face broke out into a shit-eating grin. “Philly.”

“Fuck no,” Robby immediately shot back, shaking his head fervently.

“You promised,” Whitaker whined, playing it up with a level of skill that almost impressed Dana. The kid really knew how to strike Robby right in the heart.

Robby pushed away from the counter, all faux serious. “This is one promise I’m going to have to break.”

Whitaker sighed and hung his head, playing up his disappointment, before giving in. “Fine. Chicago Fire?”

Robby nodded once, crossing his arms. “Acceptable.”

Whitaker grinned at that and Dana couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. “Christ, kid, you really are the favorite.”

Robby ducked his head sheepishly in response to that and Dennis flushed beet red. God, how obvious that should’ve been. If she didn’t figure it out in that moment, then she should’ve realized the following week when Robby put a Chicago Fire FC sticker on his thermos, or the week after when she heard him and Whitaker chatting about the best way to get out to the stadium in Philadelphia to watch Chicago play away. Maybe she should’ve realized two days after that, when Robby showed her a picture of him and Whitaker at the stadium, wearing matching Chicago Fire jerseys. 

Dana Evans was not stupid, but she was tired, so give her a goddamn break. 

II.

Donnie didn’t think much about Pitt except when he was inside the building. He had better things to worry about— notably his wife and his very cranky eighteen-month-old. Those thoughts took over his mind as soon as he stepped out the door, which was more than okay with him. Frankly, he probably had better work-life balance than ninety-seven percent of his coworkers. 

By extension, of course, he didn’t think much about Michael Robinavitch the second the man was out of his sight. Why would he? He had no need to be involved in the man’s life outside of work and the after-shift park hangouts, and he certainly had no interest in gossiping about his flings like Princess and Perlah. He did exactly as the chief asked and went home at the end of the day, the second he possibly could. 

Right now, however, Donnie was thinking about Robby, because the man was walking right towards him. The shift had been a long one— nothing unusual, just the fifth in a row for Donnie— and he had been looking forward to a cold beer in the park across the street. He’d already grabbed the cooler from the break room and thrown in some ice from the freezer. Now, he just had to grab his things and he’d be free.

With his bag slung over his shoulder and the handle of the cooler securely in his hand, he began to leave the locker room. Before he could even get a step away, however, Robby swooped into the room.

“Hey, Donnie, wait-“

Robby held out a hand to stop him from stepping anything further away from the lockers. He threw up a finger, the universal signal to just give him a second, and punched in the code for his own locker. He brushed aside the jacket hanging from the hook to pull out a six-pack of Modelos— the slightly more expensive kind, in the glass bottles with gold foil over the cap.

Carefully, as though guiding someone through a delicate operation, Robby opened up the cooler top and began to lay the short bottles among the cans of Miller Lite, ensuring each was half-buried into the ice so they would cool more quickly. Once he was done, he closed the top and collapsed the cardboard hold they came in, tucking it under his arm, seemingly with the plan to toss it out later. It was all so tenderly done that Donnie wasn’t sure what to think.

“Getting fancy on me now?” he joked, cracking an easy smile despite the strange situation. Never, in all of his years of working with Robby, had he ever seen the man buy anything for the cooler except lite beer, the same cheap shit with which Donnie restocked it every week. He didn’t think the attending had any sort of high class taste, considering he had never complained about the selection of cheap beverages. 

Robby huffed out a laugh, turning back to close his locker and notably avoiding eye contact with Donnie. “Dennis mentioned he prefers lager over lite. Figured I’d buy a few, just to have ‘em.” 

Ah, that explained it.

If Donnie were to think about Robby’s life outside of work at all, he would think that the man was just a little bit weird about Whitaker. Maybe it was a protege thing, a fatherly thing, a Langdon’s-not-the-golden-boy-anymore thing. Whatever the fuck it was, it was weird. Why couldn’t Whitaker buy some lager himself? Why did Robby need to do it for him? Why would he buy a nicer lager for him, instead of just the cheap cans of PBR? 

If Donnie cared a bit more, he’d be concerned. Or he might just poke fun at Robby for pampering his favorite resident. However, Donnie was mostly just tired, and would like to drink a beer, so he just nodded and let it go, promising to see Robby in a few.

In the park, Whitaker opened up the cooler and spotted the lagers. The resident shot Robby a look— something shy and appreciative and maybe even a bit exasperated— and the attending shrugged innocently, as if he’d done nothing out of the ordinary. Donnie, who was sitting right next to the cooler as usual, was very glad that their whole favorite-protege thing was not his problem.

III.

Robby had a frown on his face as he walked into the Pitt. It was something Langdon liked to look out for. He preferred to know ahead of time when Robby was in a bad mood, so he could avoid him as much as possible and preemptively avoid a fight where old feelings got dredged up. It was a bit disappointing, considering they’d recently had a good track record: no real fights in seven months and generally good moods from Robby in the past year or so.

Admittedly— luckily, maybe— despite the frown, Robby didn’t actually seem to have a nasty attitude. If anything, he looked a bit confused, maybe disappointed, like something had gone wrong but he wasn’t sure what or how to fix it. It was the same expression he got when there was a complication in a trauma room or when they struggled to diagnose a patient. 

Langdon wasn’t quite sure what to make of the look. Part of him said he should stick to his usual protocol for when Robby’s in a bad mood, avoiding him and deferring to other residents. However, the other part of him was terribly curious, and he could never resist the chance to gain new knowledge.

Langdon’s intrigue winning out, he sidled up next to Robby at the central hub, leaning against the counter beside him. “How’s it going?” 

Robby startled at Langdon’s words, as if he’d been so stuck in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the man’s presence. Langdon waited as the attending paused for a second, his gaze tracking downwards to the coffee cup he was clutching— a disposable paper one, from the cafe across the street— before meeting the senior resident’s eyes again.

“Uh, going fine,” Robby answered simply, and his level tone gave little away. “You?” 

“Good, good,” Langdon replied, feeling anything but. Robby was being fucking weird, unhappy and disappointed but with no discernible cause, gaze fixed on his coffee. It left the resident feeling uneasy, unsure of how to act. Was he seriously just disappointed by his latte? The man had never been so affected by such trivial matters. It left Langdon more than a little anxious and he couldn’t help but push further, fishing for the real reason behind the odd mood. “Trying a new coffee place?” 

Robby’s brow furrowed, as if he were confused by the question. His lips only downturned further and he spared another glance at the disposable cup. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Robby conceded with a frustrated huff. It made Langdon want to scream in frustration. Seriously, could this man get any more vague? 

Before he could ask another prying question, the doors to the ER opened and Whitaker walked in, bag slung over his shoulder and Santos at his side. While the latter turned and headed for the lockers, muttering something to her roommate beside her before she split off, Whitaker headed further into the room, making a beeline for Robby— no surprise there, the resident seemed to be glued to his side fifty-percent of the time and was searching for him the other fifty-percent. It wasn’t as if Robby was any better, with the way he always seemed eager to get a hand on Whitaker’s shoulder or the back of his neck.

While Langdon would usually take this as his cue to leave, his curiosity hadn’t faded. He wanted to know what was up so he could make a game plan for the day— that game plan being either have a normal day or avoid Robby at all costs. Besides, if anyone could figure out Robby’s issue, it was Whitaker.

“Morning!” Whitaker greeted easily. He gave a nod to Langdon, but his attention was drawn nearly immediately to Robby— once again, no surprise. Despite Robby’s eyes being trained solely on Whitaker, and no longer upon the cup clutched in his right hand, Whitaker immediately noticed it, frowning as well at the coffee and gesturing vaguely towards it as he spoke again. “What happened?” 

Langdon thought they should just hire Whitaker as the full-time Michael Robinavitch whisperer, because clearly nobody was able to read the attending quite like the young man. 

“I couldn’t figure it out,” Robby sighed, the type of easy concession which had become more common from him lately. 

Yeah, he should definitely get paid for doing this. Langdon wondered how Whitaker had figured out how to crack him so quickly, considering Abbot was still trying to figure that out after two decades. The attending never would’ve admitted defeat so quickly before Whitaker came into the picture. 

Whitaker grinned at him, sympathetic but lighthearted. “It comes with an instruction manual.”

Robby groaned, but it had turned from genuine frustration to something overdramatic and exaggerated, like all he needed to turn it into a funny story was for Whitaker to smile at him. “I know, but I still couldn’t figure it out. There were fucking coffee grinds everywhere and the weird steam wand was sputtering at me and the espresso was so bitter.” 

Oh. He must’ve bought an espresso machine, one he didn’t know how to use. It made so much sense to Langdon now, with the way Robby had been frowning at his coffee cup and looking disappointed. Dennis must’ve known about the new gadget, which made sense with how often he and Robby were attached to each other; that much time together must mean running out of work-related topics and turning conversation to personal matters. 

Whitaker chuckled quietly at Robby’s misery, though he tried to hide it behind his hand. Robby glowered, but his face softened and it seemed he was more than okay with being the butt of the joke, at least when Whitaker was the one laughing. Just another sign of Whitaker being the Robinavitch-whisperer.

“I’ll come over tonight and teach you how to use it,” Whitaker offered— or, rather, told him. “I promise it’s just a learning curve, and you’ll love it once you understand how to use it.” 

Langdon couldn’t imagine inviting himself over to anyone’s house like that, let alone to his boss’s house, but whatever was going on between him and Robby was obviously a step above his own former mentor-mentee situation with the attending. Clearly, Robby was nurturing Whitaker in every way possible, including by giving him incredible leeway.

“I better love it,” Robby grumbled, but didn’t protest Whitaker’s plans, “or else I’m returning it. I want my five-hundred-dollars back.” 

“Don’t return it!” Whitaker half-begged but mostly ordered. “It’s, like, a huge quality of life upgrade once you’re able to use it.” 

“Okay, okay, I trust you, I’ll give it another go,” Robby conceded, and he gave Whitaker a smile, warm and indulgent. The young man returned the grin, and they were silent for a moment, just basking in the peace before the beginning of the shift, or maybe sharing some sort of silent conversation of plans. Whatever it was, it felt like Langdon was invading upon it. He’d certainly never had this level of connection with Robby, even before the attending found out about his struggles, and he wondered why Robby had never believed in his potential enough to let him into his mind the way he had done with Whitaker.

“Go,” Robby shooed Whitaker off, effectively breaking the moment and freeing Langdon of his discomfort. “Go put your stuff up, almost time for pre-shift talk.”

Whitaker gave a little mock salute, the goofy grin never leaving his face, and turned away, heading in the direction of the lockers. Robby watched after him for a moment, before shaking himself out of it and turning back towards the inner area of the central hub. He looked down to the coffee cup still clutched in his hand and, this time, when he took a sip, he didn’t frown. Instead, he kept that soft smile on his face, the one seemingly reserved just for Whitaker. 

Man, Langdon wished he could read Robby the way Whitaker did. 

+I

Victoria Javadi knew something was off the second Trinity Santos walked in with a ginormous grin on her face. Trinity would never smile so wide, or at all, at six-fifty-eight am. Usually, she showed up half-dead, clutching a thermos of coffee, and frowning at everything that moved. Today, however, she had a pep in her step and smug satisfaction written across her face. Javadi watched as she made a beeline for Abbot, who was standing at the central hub and looked, for all the world, like he had been waiting for her.

“Tell me you’ve heard,” Trinity practically begged him, leaning across the counter to intrude upon Abbot’s space. 

Strangely, the attending seemed to perfectly mirror her smug expression. “I probably got the news before you did.”

Trinity narrowed her eyes. “Eleven pm.”

“Panic text just after ten-thirty,” Abbot offered, softening into a mocking sympathy. “Sorry, kid.”

“Fuck,” Trintiy groaned, looking miserable over the revelation that the attending had known… something before her. “I hate that idiot.”

Abbot huffed out a laugh. “Don’t worry, I hate my idiot just as much.”

At that, Trinity paused and scanned her eyes over the entirety of the ER, clearly searching for something or someone. “Where are our idiots anyways?”

“Haven’t shown yet,” Abbot answered easily, doing his own quick scan with an extra glance towards the doors leading to the ambulance bay. “Even checked the roof.”

“Shit. Odds on them being halfway to Vegas by now?”

“Eh, fifty-fifty. They could already be on honeymoon in Bali.”

Javadi felt like she was missing out on something, like there was some joke that had entirely flown over her head. She didn’t even realize Abbot and Trinity knew each other that well, enough to joke around and bemoan their situations together. 

“We should’ve talked them out of it last night,” Trinity insisted, oblivious to Javadi’s inner turmoil.

Abbot raised an eyebrow. “And miss out on making fun of them? Hell no. Imagine our wedding speeches.”

Before Trinity could argue— or agree— the doors to the ambulance bay opened and Dennis came bustling in. The resident running a minute or two late was not entirely unusual, though he usually came scurrying in with Trinity at his side. What was odd was how Dr. Robby came rushing in beside him, a whole three minutes late. Javadi had never seen the chief be later than ten minutes early. 

Trinity and Abbot turned to watch as the two walked in. Both appeared terribly amused, even more so as Dennis and Robby refused to meet their eyes or even glance in their direction. Dennis kept his head resolutely downwards as he scurried off to the lockers, while Robby took a wide berth around Abbot and Trinity on the path to his work station. He refused to acknowledge them as he laid his jacket over the back of his chair and set his thermos down on the desk. 

A strange, blurry image began to form in Javadi’s mind. Certainly, she was on the outside looking in, missing out on the in-joke everyone was laughing at, but there were inklings she could glimpse, something tangible waiting to be grasped. There was something juicy brewing here, and she couldn’t wait to be told the gossip.

—

Samira tried her best to exit south twelve very calmly, in that steady way which made patients feel like everything was going to be okay. As soon as the door closed and she was certain the curtain was blocking Mister Halfa’s view of her, she began power walking to the central hub, desperate to check on test results for her other patient, Miss Lawrence. 

Samira practically threw herself into the chair at her workstation, tapping her ID quickly to get into the computer terminal and beginning to click through. Before she could even start to process anything on the screen in front of her, however, Trinity was sitting down in the chair at the station next to her and rolling over closer.

“So, do you want to be a bridesmaid, Mohan?” Trinity asked with a shit-eating grin. 

Samira blinked. The words didn’t even really register to her, but they wouldn’t make any sense if they did.

“Or a groomsmaid, I guess,” Trinity offered up like it was a concession. The third year resident took a moment to think about it, like she couldn’t decide if there was a different term to be using. 

“Shut up, Trinity,” Dennis muttered from where he was standing a few feet away, hunched over the counter of the central hub and taking a breather. Samira was half-sure the trauma he’d just gotten out of had coded and required him to spend a good five minutes performing compressions, if the sweat beading on his forehead was any indication. In his exhausted state, he didn’t even spare Samira a glance.

Trinity rolled her eyes. “Okay, Bridezilla.”

Dennis shot up at that, just barely having caught his breath. “I’m not a bridezilla! I’m not going to be a bridezilla!” 

Trinity snorted at that, turning to Samira, who had mostly frozen in her tracks as she tried to get her brain to catch up with the conversation.

“Who do you think’s more likely to be a bridezilla: Dennis or Robby?” Trinity asked her, like she was trying to prove a point. 

“Uh, probably Robby, honestly. He’s just super nit picky and high strung,” Samira offered, mildly surprised by how easy it was to picture him having a fit over cake flavors. “I could also see Princess being a bridezilla, Victoria too maybe.” 

Trinity’s nose scrunched at that, confusion written across her face. “What do they have to do with it?” 

Samira, however, couldn’t answer, because Dennis was already speaking over Trinity. “Thank you, Samira. Fuck you, Trinity.” 

With that, Dennis turned and walked away, clearly done with the conversation. Trinity, of course, mouthed “bridezilla” behind his back, but she let the conversation go as well, choosing to log into her computer terminal and start charting instead of pushing it any further. 

Samira took a second to reorient herself before turning back to her computer as well. Dennis and Trinity’s little spats were always so strange, and she really had no time to think about it. 

—

Dennis and Robby had been attached at the hip more than usual today. Langdon could spot it easily, considering the younger resident was always there whenever he sought out the attending to discuss a patient, and Robby was always scanning the ER for Dennis when the younger man wasn’t by his side. The trend hadn’t ceased as the halfway point of the shift rolled around.

Even now, as Langdon speed walked to catch up with the attending, who was headed in the direction of the north rooms, he spotted Dennis at his side, perfectly in step with Robby and speaking to him casually. As Langdon got within a few yards of them, their conversation became clear. 

“-where to buy one?” Langdon caught the tailend of the resident’s question. Whitaker glanced up at Robby as he asked, before directing his gaze forwards again.

Langdon’s mind tried to fill in the blanks. Maybe the two were speaking about medical equipment, where to buy a specific brand of stethoscope. Maybe it was a typical workplace conversation, ER-related in nature.

“No need,” Robby assured Whitaker easily. “I’ve got my Bubbe and Zayde’s chuppah somewhere.”

Ah, another one of their personal conversations. Langdon should’ve figured— ever since he had first noticed their close mentorship, he seemed to overhear their intimate discussions more and more often. Or maybe he was just noticing them more often. 

Whitaker grinned— Langdon could tell when he turned his head to look at Robby once more. This time, the attending turned to meet his gaze with his own soft look.

“Really? Dennis asked gently, voice nearly inaudible, lost in the beeping and overlapping conversations of the ER. “She gave it to you before she passed?”

Langdon wondered how the topic had come up in the first place. Robby had never been one to talk about his family, even when he did turn the conversation to personal matters. The looks Dana had shot him when he asked Robby about holiday plans for the first time years ago had confirmed to him that the subject was strictly off limits. The same rules seemingly didn’t apply to Dennis. 

Robby’s steps slowed, like the memories were weighing him down. “Yeah, made me promise I’d use it one day.”

Whitaker softened at that, moving to nudge Robby’s shoulder.

The attending waved him off. “Like I said, I’ve got it somewhere. Maybe in the attic or the guest room.”

Whitaker wasn’t put off by the dismissal, simply allowing Robby’s attempt at lightning the conversation. “Oh yeah? You’re sure you’ve got it somewhere?”

“It’ll take me ten minutes to dig it out,” Robby asserted with a roll of his eyes as what Whitaker was implying.

“Right,” Dennis chuckled, disbelieving. “Just like with the box fan.”

“The box fan was different,” Robby insisted. “The chuppah is probably-”

It was then that Langdon realized that he had stopped walking because Robby and Dennis had come to a stop, now just fully staring at the two of them as they conversed. He felt strange, watching them in their little bubble as they had such a personal discussion, acting as an interloper on their intimate connection.

Lagdon shook himself out of it and took a couple of long strides to sidle up beside the two.

“Hey,” he cut in, and the two turned to him, broken out of their privacy but seemingly not put off by the interruption. “Could I get your opinion on this cholelithiasis patient?”

“Hit me,” Robby invited, turning his attention to the senior resident.

Dennis, meanwhile, slipped away without a word, already throwing himself back into his work. Langdon might not have even noticed him leaving if Robby hadn’t spared a glance in the younger man’s direction, watching as he disappeared around the corner. It was impossible not to notice the way the attending’s softened affect immediately hardened as soon as Dennis was out of sight. 

—

For the millionth time that day, Robby squinted at something on his phone and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. McKay had noticed it immediately, the same way she had immediately clocked how distracted the attending had been all day— not that it was hard to tell, what with the way his gaze was drawn to the screen of his phone at every free moment. She had never seen him so intently focused on his device, and she had certainly never seen him so absent-minded every time he stepped out of the patient care rooms. She even knew that she wasn't the only one who had noticed because Javadi was eyeing him suspiciously and Santos was practically bursting out in laughter anytime she and the attending crossed paths. 

Clearly, Robby’s odd behavior was raising eyebrows across the ER. 

McKay, admittedly, was desperate to know what was going on. She wasn’t exactly a huge gossiper, per se, but she would never turn up her nose at the prospect of figuring out some blackmail about Robby. And any chance to laugh at him would be quickly and gladly taken. If only she could get a glimpse of his phone, she could figure out exactly what had caught his attention…

The first time McKay tried to get close, Robby was leant against the wall outside of trauma two, only thirty seconds or so out from running a code. In the few moments he got to breathe after finishing up with the patient, he was once again smiling at his screen, deep in thought. As McKay ventured over, she wondered if she could get a glimpse as she passed without him noticing. Before she could get within sight range, however, Mohan was calling the attending’s name and he was shooting off again, slipping his phone back into the back pocket of his cargos.

The second time, McKay spotted Robby looking at his phone while grabbing a sip of coffee from his thermos at the central hub. Once again, McKay tried to sneak past him to see exactly what was on the screen, but, this time, Dana swooped in faster, stepping in front of the attending to begin a discussion about a patient.

Finally, halfway through the afternoon, McKay stepped out of a patient room to see Robby sitting at his workstation. Ostensibly, he was charting or chipping away at paperwork. In truth, however, all of his attention was on his phone, gaze never straying from the screen. Dana was chatting with Trinity on the opposite side of the hub and everything seemed to be in a lull— though not quiet, never quiet. At last, McKay saw her chance.

She sidled up beside Robby’s workstation, setting the patient files she was holding onto the counter, making it look like she was about to start sorting through them. However, she stood still, gaze sliding over to the attending. Robby truly was absorbed by his phone, not making a single comment about McKay’s lack of action or snooping. 

Robby’s distraction worked in her favor, as she was easily able to catch a glimpse of his phone. On the screen, there was the website of a jewelry company, displaying a single silver ring embedded with white diamonds. Robby considered it for a second, using two fingers to zoom in and squinting at the image, before switching tabs to look at a different engagement ring, this one plain gold with no adornments. He considered the second band just as carefully, looking as though he was really thinking about it. 

McKay couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. As far as she had heard through the hospital grapevine, Robby wasn’t currently seeing anyone, and he hadn’t been for a while. Besides, even if he was, the odds of the relationship being serious were close to zero. The name Seven Week Itch Robinavitch— cruel as it was— hadn’t appeared out of thin air. The man’s reputation had been earned. None of the attending’s flings had lasted long enough to even consider marriage, at least not since Janey and that had been years ago.

McKay wasn’t sure if this was some new fantasy of his, but… it could be a good sign. If he was dreaming of buying an engagement ring, then maybe he was planning to take his relationships more seriously. Perhaps he was finally ready to push past whatever fear of commitment he’d been harboring for all these years.

However, even if McKay was happy he was starting to take his future relationships more seriously, the engagement ring might be a step too far a little too fast. 

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, don’t you think?” McKay dared to ask aloud, though she hoped the smile on her face softened the barb.

Robby startled at the comment, like he hadn’t noticed her presence before that moment. Then, some odd expression came across his face— a self-deprecating grin, as though he was mocking himself, but also affection in his eyes, something softening his whole affect, like he was imagining someone of whom he was fond. 

“I know,” he chuckled, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

McKay was grateful he was at least able to laugh about it. “Maybe a little bit, but you could probably save your reputation for being intelligent if you waited on the ring.”

“Yeah, maybe not my best move,” Robby conceded, laughing once more, and McKay suddenly felt like there was some sort of in-joke she was missing out on. “I don’t know, I’ve just never felt like this before.”

McKay softened at that, because she’d never heard him speak with such openness. “Yeah?”

“I just want it all,” he confessed, wistful and distant. “Love and care for life, wading through the hard shit together, finding balance. I knew it was serious, but last night I just… I realized I really do want it all.”

“Robby, that’s beautiful,” McKay breathed out, somewhat in awe. She had always secretly hoped that Robby would find the desire for long-lasting love, breaking out of his cycle of short flings, but she never could’ve imagined he would be able to vocalize such hopes so suddenly and openly. He seemed so young in that moment, like a little boy just sharing his dreams for life. She desperately needed to affirm it, before he abruptly changed his mind. “You’ll find that person for you, I’m sure.”

Robby furrowed his brow at that, as though he was confused or didn’t believe her. He opened his mouth, maybe to voice a question or ask if she really meant what she said, but, before he could get a word out, Dana was calling his name. He shot up from his chair and jumped straight back into the fray, disappearing like the conversation hadn’t occurred at all. 

McKay, on the other hand, left the central hub with a smile on her face. These dreams of marriage that Robby was harboring were undeniably sweet, and she hoped he went into his next relationship with those hopes on his sleeve. She was certain his next girlfriend would be charmed by them.

—

It had been an odd twelve hours, though not in terms of work— every broken bone and MVA victim had been exceedingly normal. No, all of the weirdness had come from Dana’s coworkers, and had been practically emanating off of Robby, Dennis, and Trinity. 

All day, Dennis and Robby had been sharing looks. That wasn’t so strange— the two were practically attached at the hip eighty-five percent of the time— but their looks today were laced with something else, something more, something amused and fond, like they were sharing a joke telepathically between them. Dana had wanted to question it, but Robby hadn’t been snapping or trying to throw himself off of the roof, so she had left the situation alone. 

Worse than Robby and Dennis, however, was Trinity, who had been making comments all day. Every time she walked past Dennis, she would ask “where’s your fiance?” or let him know “your fiance’s looking for you.” It appeared to all be in good fun, and the way Dennis went beet-red every time it happened almost had Dana laughing along, but there was still something odd about the comments, so unlike the usual jokes Trinity made at the younger resident’s expense. 

To add to the peculiarity of the situation, Trinity was doing the same to Robby, shooting him shit-eating grins while asking if he thought Dennis would prefer white suits over black and chocolate cake over vanilla. Clearly, Dennis had done something embarrassing which Santos wasn’t going to let him live down, but it was just strange that she had specifically pulled Robby into her teasing. Did he know about what Dennis had done?

Still, it was good to see Robby getting along so well with the residents, so Dana didn’t pry.

After twelve hours of the teasing, however, she had grown unbearably curious. Her intrigue had only worsened with the arrival of Jack Abbot, who had shown up for shift change and immediately joined in on the jokes, asking Trinity if she’d written her speech yet and telling Robby he’d found a DJ for the reception. Dana, even as she packed up for the day, kept a careful eye on the situation from a distance, hoping a further hint would be given sooner rather than later.

Before she could glean more information about it, however, Jack was breaking away from Trinity’s side, dragging Robby with him, and motioning for the night shift to circle up.

“Night crawlers,” Jack called their attention with a big, toothy grin on his face, “it’s a crazy world out there. I mean, if this idiot–” he stuck a thumb towards Robby, “–can convince someone to marry him, then you know we live in a batshit world.”

Dana froze where she was standing at the central hub, stilling in her motions to gather her things. Everyone seemed to be listening in, and they’d all gone as shock-still as her, stopping dead in their tracks and leaving the ER quiet in a way she’d never seen before. Dana could see McKay staring at the chief with wide eyes and an open mouth, while Javadi was openly mouthing “what the fuck?” in response to the news.

Dana dared to glance over to Robby, only to find him unfazed by the news. If anything, he just seemed sheepish, dropping his head to hide his flushed face and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Jack, meanwhile, plowed on like nothing was out of the ordinary. “But we’re crazier than this world, we’re the wildest of them all, so let’s go out there and rule the fucking night!”

“Hooah,” the entirety of night shift chorused together, but it was hesitant, spoken like a question rather than shouted.

Jack, either not noticing or entirely ignoring the confusion, or perhaps even reading it as a normal level of surprise, continued onwards without hesitation. He motioned over to Dennis, who was leaning against the counter of the central hub. The resident moved closer to Jack when summoned, until he was close enough for the night shift attending to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him inwards, showing him off to the gathered doctors and nurses. 

“And, of course, remember to congratulate my future brother-in-law,” Jack teased, shaking Dennis a bit in his hold. The resident rolled his eyes and pushed Jack away, but he grinned all the same.

‘Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,’ Dana thought to herself, unable to comprehend the events playing out before her. ‘What the fuck is going on here?’

“Keep that shit up and we’re eloping,” Robby warned, reaching out to grab Dennis by the shoulder and pull him away from Jack, until the resident was tucked against his own side.

Dennis huffed out an agreement, though he looked happily amused rather than annoyed. “I hear Nevada is beautiful this time of year.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jack retorted, pointing an accusing finger at the two of them. “I’ve already written my best man speech.”

“Presumptuous,” Robby muttered, staring the other man down. The two held each other’s gazes for a number of seconds, refusing to break their glares or back down from their silent debate. Finally, after an agonizing while, Robby cracked a smile and Jack chuckled.

“Go,” Jack insisted, waving him off. “Go be cute and coupley at home or whatever, brother.”

“I’m sorry,” Javadi cut in, never one to shy away from speaking her mind. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth, kid,” Dana muttered, gathering her bearings enough to level Robby with a withering glare.

Mohan, meanwhile, swung around to look at Trinity, whose self-satisfied smirk had been fading as she watched the situation unfold. “Is this why you were asking me about being a bridesmaid?”

Trinity blinked, her brain just finally catching up. “I mean… yeah. I just thought you’d want to get in on making fun of Huckleberry.”

“Making fun of him for…?” Javadi prompted, wanting to hear it laid out plainly. She was eating the situation up, leaning so far forward in her workstation chair that she was practically falling out of it. 

“For getting engaged last night,” Trinity stated hesitantly, and it didn’t help how frozen the room was. In fact, it only seemed worsened by having the circumstances laid out so clearly. Then, almost in desperate explanation, she added, “I mean, c’mon, this whole unplanned proposal is hilarious, right?”

Robby opened his mouth— maybe to defend himself from Trinity’s assertion or deny the whole thing or fucking explain himself— but, before he could get a word out, the landline rung and Lena was picking it up.

“MVA two minutes out,” she called, and that seemed to finally melt the ice that had encapsulated the entire room.

The night shift doctors and nurses started to peel off, though Dana could hear Ellis insisting Jack fill her in on everything later. Shen, who seemed the least affected by the news, clapped Dennis on the shoulder as he walked by and said something that made the resident flush pink and mutter a quiet “fuck off.” Jack shot a look at Robby, somewhere between confused and pitying, before giving him a pat on the arm and heading off to start his shift as well.

Robby sighed, taking stock of the whispered words and gazes on him from both the day and night shift, even as the latter began their work. Dana could see his eyes darting towards the exit and his feet starting to shuffle in the direction of the lockers, but there was no way in hell she was letting him off that easily. 

“What the hell, Robinavitch?” she half-spat, half-whispered, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back to the central hub. 

“I know, I know,” he muttered, shrinking in on himself and hanging his head like a child being scolded.

Dana glanced over his shoulder to find Mohan and Javadi dragging Dennis to a nearby workstation, likely to question him as well. Santos trailed after them, looking both prepared to intervene and to egg on the situation. Dana tried to ignore them for the time being, dragging her gaze back to the man in front of her.

“Well?” she prompted. “Explain yourself.”

Robby sighed, tiredly running a hand down his face and scratching at his jaw, but he cracked a soft smile and his eyes were shining with enough fondness to almost lower Dana’s defenses. Almost. 

“I don’t know,” Robby muttered, but it was clearly a deflection, spoken to buy him a couple more seconds. “It wasn’t planned or anything— obviously. I mean, I would’ve had a ring and a nice dinner or something if it was.”

Dana snorted, and Robby ignored the reaction.

“I was so tired,” he admitted. “After my shift, I just barely dragged myself home and forced myself into the shower, and, when I got out, he was just… sitting on the couch, watching TV, eating a fucking turkey sandwich, and he looked up and smiled at me and I realized that I didn’t want to do this without him. I… I want him here always, all the fucking time. I don’t want anything if he’s not there.”

It was sickeningly sweet, the type of shit you heard in bad romance movies and celebrity wedding vows. It was the kind of story Dana would scoff at for being unbelievable, but it was real— it must be, because Michael Robinavitch, the man who went through flings like pairs of vinyl gloves and brushed off love like it was a path he’d never even considered treading, was not a man who would bullshit a story like that. She was certain he couldn’t fake a confession like that if he tried. 

However, Dana wasn’t about to let him off the hook just because he was being cute.
“So you thought the correct reaction to that thought was to propose?

Robby grew even more sheepish, if that was possible, rubbing at the back of his neck and refusing to meet her eyes. It made him look terribly young, like a shy high schooler talking about his prom date. “It just kinda slipped out.”

Dana looked at Robby, really looked at him, and realized that he appeared happy, grinning softly at the very thought of Dennis Whitaker and eyes shining as he recounted the previous night. She wondered how long he had been feeling this way about the resident, whether it had been building ever since their first meeting. Robby had certainly been strangely affectionate since Dennis had first stepped foot into their ER, and he had grown closer to the younger man in the past year— she wondered when in that timeline he had realized his love for the resident ran deeper than that between two colleagues. 

Dana was curious if the realization of his affections had been contributing to Robby’s happiness over the past year or so. Certainly, when Whitaker had returned for his first year of residency, Robby had been in a rough spot, closer to the edge than Dana had ever seen him and ready to leave for his suicidal spirit quest.

He had improved immensely in the time since, and it had been surprising to see Dennis there every step of the way, but she had chalked it up to close acquaintanceship or friendship. It shouldn't have been such a surprise that romance got involved somewhere in the midst of that. Dana was just glad it had clearly worked out for the better, if Dennis’s (alleged) acceptance of the proposal was anything to go by.

Sneaking a glance behind Robby, Dana caught sight of Dennis, who was grinning shyly and ducking his head to hide the flush on his face as his friends bombarded him with questions. He appeared terribly happy, all bright and excited even while he was being interrogated. Clearly, he was pretty satisfied with his and Robby’s situation, so Dana untensed, allowed herself to relax and feel delighted on her colleague’s behalf. 

However, she still had one question left.

“What was Whitaker doing there anyways?” 

Robby’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Dana’s confusion matched his. “Why was Whitaker at your house last night? You said he was just hanging out and watching TV there.”

Robby scoffed out a laugh, as if she was being ridiculous. “Dana, he lives there.”

Dana’s stomach dropped, because it suddenly felt like there was something more going on here besides a surprise proposal in place of a confession of feelings. “What?”

“He’s been half living there since my sabbatical,” Robby reminded her, as if it was information she had heard before. “I mean, he still stayed at Santos’s a night or two a week, but we’ve been living together basically the whole time we’ve been seeing each other.”

‘Oh my god,’ Dana prayed internally. ‘Mary have mercy.’

“You were dating Whitaker,” Dana breathed, the revelation somehow more earth shattering than the realization that he had panic-proposed to the resident.

“Yes,” Robby laughed, like he thought she was making a joke. “That is typically what people do before they get engaged.”

“Holy shit, Robby,” she forced out, half hysterical. “How long were you dating Whitaker?”

The grin fell from Robby’s face, as her questions and desperate affect seemed to sink in for him. “We’ve been dating since my sabbatical, when he was supposed to house-sit for me but I never actually, y’know… left. I’m sorry, did you… not know?”

“I knew you were close, I knew you talked a lot and drove him home sometimes but-” Dana tried to justify herself, running through the past year and a half in her mind to search for the signs she had missed.

Christ, she felt like an idiot. If she saw two residents talk as often as Robby and Dennis did, if she saw Robby driving a female colleague home as often as he did Dennis, if she saw anyone declare so softly that that they would support a soccer team just for another person, she would automatically assume some form of affection or romantic entanglement, or at least would figure that there were deeper feelings under the surface. There were so many signs that was exactly what was happening between the two of them, and she just hadn’t connected the dots. 

However, Dana was not about to admit her own shortcomings to Robby, especially not when the fault for this one could so easily be placed on him.

“Robby…” Dana started slowly, as if he was the oblivious one, “I don’t think anyone knew.”

She motioned behind him and Robby turned to look at where Mohan and Javadi were standing, both wide-eyed and slack-jawed as they listened to Dennis speak, presumably about his relationship. Princess and Perlah had joined the group, and they looked just as surprised, as if even they hadn't known the full extent of the situation.

Then, Robby noticed some of the night shift nurses openly gaping at him, gazes snapping over to Whitaker every so often. Finally, he seemed to take note of Langdon and Mel whispering to each other as they stood on the other side of the central hub, clearly comparing notes and dissecting the situation. 

“Shit,” Robby cursed, as it truly sunk in that nobody was aware of his romantic entanglement with Dennis. “Fuck, how have I managed this one?”

“You and your boy must be more discrete than you thought,” Dana teased, satisfied both that she had successfully turned the tables on Robby. 

“Fucking hell, get me out of here,” Robby muttered, glancing around again like an animal trapped in a cage. Then, seemingly remembering that his shift was over and there was nothing keeping him there, he grabbed his meager belongings from the counter and called out, “Dennis, you wanna go?”

“Please,” the resident replied eagerly.

Before he had even finished saying the word, Dennis was already pulling away from the group of doctors and nurses, who voiced their protest at his departure. He was unswayed by their dissent as he beelined for the lockers, Robby hot on his heels. Dana laughed at them all the while, not ceasing until they were out of sight, and a little longer even then. 

Then, Dana looked over to see that Javadi, Mohan, Mel, and Langdon had all joined her at the near side of the central hub, surely annoying Lena with the way they were crowding up the space. Still, they didn’t move, because they deserved at least a moment to debrief.

“So,” Mel started with a good-natured grin, “who’s bringing the congratulatory cake tomorrow?”

“More like who’s dragging HR down here tomorrow,” Javadi snorted, but she looked delighted by the turn of events. Dana could only hope she wouldn’t see a TikTok from Doctor J later about the dangers of workplace relationships.

Langdon hummed, deep in thought with his eyes still trained on the hallway down which Robby and Dennis had disappeared. “Are we dumb? Maybe we’re not smart enough to have medical licenses.”

“Nah,” Dana rebuked with a shake of her head. “They’re the idiots here, but, y’know, love will do that to you.”

Mohan scoffed. “If love makes you that much of an idiot, then I’m good. I think I’ll just keep things casual for life.”

‘Funny,’ Dana thought. ‘Robby probably thought the same thing before he met Dennis.’