Chapter Text
July fourth will forever go down as one of Samira’s career-defining days. More specifically, hour fifteen of what was supposed to be twelve. Her relationship with Robby will never make complete sense to her. Constant push and pull, from thin ice to solid ground, Robby’s father-figure-like mentorship was best left to Langdon. She was left to the disposal—the part of fatherhood where all the mistakes and moments of weakness accumulate.
It never hit Samira as hard as it did today. The echoes of Robby’s condescending tone and the words of her being a liability to him stung deeper into her skin than she’d like to admit. With every brightly colored firework fizzling into the sky, her heart pumped deeper and louder at a rhythmic pace. She could feel the dried sweat and moisture on her skin, leaving a film of grim and filth from the day. Eventually, the explosions from the show seemed to drown out, and all she could hear were her final words to Robby before he left, the conversations she had with Mrs. Diaz, and the ringing that hadn’t gone away from her panic attack.
She knows he has his own casework of problems to sort through. She knows today was supposed to go a lot differently for him. She knows somewhere deep inside of Robby, there is a kind and sincere version of himself. She sees all this good in him despite the madness he causes her to spiral into.
This push and pull, thin ice to solid ground.
She can never be upset at Robby. She could never find it in herself to simply report him to HR or, heck, stand up for herself. She knows there is hope in the ball of anger and resentment eating him from the inside out. His words always found themselves to be truthful, even when it hurt her to admit. So she apologized for letting her personal problems get in the way of her work, wished him safety, and reassured him of his importance right as the minutes before his sabbatical approached.
“Samira, earth to Samira,” a tired voice sang. She snapped out of her deep thought and turned her head towards Trinity, trying to get her attention. “You coming to karaoke?”
“Not tonight. I uh, I think I really just need to get some rest,” She responds, taking a deep breath in and out.
Trinity gives her a nod and goes in for a hug before gathering her things to go. Mel follows after, chirping a “goodnight!” to Samira before waving bye. Samira scans the area around her. Found in the sky were discolored pollutants from the fireworks’ remnants. Most of her co-workers had already left or were walking back inside. Samira stood exactly where she was, her throbbing feet finding a comfortable pressure against the stone of the roof, the hot wind of the summer heatwave gently blowing against her frizzed hair. McKay pats her shoulder with a goodnight, following Dana and Perlah soon after.
She walks closer to the edge of the roof, mostly alone, leaning against the stone barrier. The ringing in her ear began to quiet, and her heart no longer felt twice as heavy as it was.
“So unoriginal, Mohan,” a deeper voice crept behind her, a chill shivering down her spine. “You know, looking over from the rooftop, contemplating life, is kinda my thing.”
She turns her head to face the voice so distinctly his, Dr. Abbot.
“What are you still doing here?” She questions.
Abbot runs his hand through his hair, mustering, “I’m waiting for Robby to leave first. Trying to convince the man to scrap the motorcycle and get in the back of my truck.” He looks over at Samira, leaning against the stone fence next to her and looking towards the skylines, “I overheard what happened between the two of you today.”
Samira doesn’t know how to respond to that. She doesn’t know if she wants to begin dissecting the events leading up to the climax of that plotline.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to-”
It's like he can read my mind, Samira notes.
“He’s an idiot, though! He let his personal life get in the way of his work. Truly ironic and so in character for him,” Abbot shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “You know he sees himself in you, and his brain is just so fogged right now to acknowledge it.”
Samira’s eyebrows furrow softly, though she remains quiet.
Abbot looks her in her eyes, “I am not saying you should forgive him. I’m not even trying to side with him. But it would kill me to know you left this place thinking Robby had nothing but hope for you.”
Samira intently locks her stare with his. She notices the bags creeping up on his pale skin. Little freckles scattering around his cheeks, the wrinkles around his eyes, the blue fading into silver in his iris.
“Dr. Mohan,” His voice softens, “I can’t be Robby’s voice in the desperately necessary conversation you two need for each other. All I can do is fight for you to stay here, in Pittsburgh, with us at the pitt. Consider it. Anything you need, I’ll do my best to provide.”