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Robby had certainly known death throughout his career, it came with the territory of being a doctor in the emergency department. And yet it never got easier, it never ached any less when he lost someone, especially when that someone was a child. This ache being the reason he now found himself on the roof of the hospital, a place most who worked there had long since learnt stood as a sanctuary of sorts, replacing the synagogue Robby frequented once when he was clothed in the skin of a younger, more optimistic man.
A ten year old girl. Basilar head injury disguised as some light bruises. The other symptoms didn’t occur until just before she started haemorrhaging. He had spent the last half an hour of his shift pulling her into consciousness just for her to slip out of his arms a moment later. Lila Wallace, a name that was now just that. Detached from breath and body, detached from the person that made the name more then a memory of a less painful time.
It materialised in the cool night air, hanging high, thick and suffocating; the weight of every single child lost, every single parent forced to bury their kid before they had the chance to know all life had to offer. He mourned the death of hundreds of his children that were not his, comforted hundreds of small weeping souls as if he had known them their whole life, and is never not haunted by the hundreds he knows he failed. Even if they didn’t die, he mourns them and their stolen childhoods as though he was their mother, watching them get sucked out at sea, always just slightly out of reach, always just a little to far away to help.
Anika Etana Hawea Kealoha. Three years old. Wondered into the Monongahela River in South Oakland. Died due to pulmonary edema, water in the lungs.
Nick Bradley. Eighteen years old. Fentanyl overdose. He was brain dead before he even reached the hospital.
The first Teenager he ever lost, his name now escaping his grasp. Fifteen years old. School shooting at Allegheny High School. Took five bullets spanning from his shoulder to his abdomen. Bled out in under ten minutes.
Hannah Cooke. Twelve years old, now fifteen. Traumatic brain injury from a car crash resulting in quadriplegia. She can no longer use the bathroom, change, or eat independently.
Amber Phillips. Six years old. Found at the bottom of the of a neighbours pool after saving her sister from drowning. Died of a cardiac arrest.
Samira Mohan. Twenty nine years old. Too burnt out to see her potential. Too tired to see that he was just projecting. Too fed up to see he used to be to much like her, and he hated seeing what he lost in himself.
The first kid he ever lost. A five year old boy. Brother shot him after playing with his fathers gun. Hid the wound up until he coded and died.
Leah… sixteen years old. Gun shot wound to the chest after the Pittfest shooting. He tried so hard to save her… harder then he logically should have.
Jake…
He watched all their mothers cradle them, hold them and beg them for something, anything that might bring them back. More days then not he had moments were he switched places with those mothers, a desperate ache to cling to the limp body of the child he had temporarily thought of as his own. He had always tried, tried to be better then his own mother, always tried to be there for the young and vulnerable when others weren’t. And yet the feeling that he failed couldn’t help but follow him, clinging to his skin like burning hot honey, gripping his neck and suffocating his heart.
Robby had always been a man to in his own head; a symptom, he had theorised, of his up bringing, though he always tried his hardest not to linger on that to closely . But no matter what he did, no matter how many times he repeated those four phrases in his head, his mind was always filled to the brim with the guilt of the now forever unknown futures of the children he had let down
I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.
I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.
I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.
I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.
I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.
I love you. Thank you. Please forgive me.
I love you. Please forgive me.
Please forgive me.
Please forgive me.
Please forgive me.
Please forgive me.
Please…
The grief and anger consumed him whole; the soil that now encased those children filling his lungs and veiling his eyes, like he was drowning in it, suffocated by what is and what could have been. Yet no matter how hard he clawed at his chest or the dirt walls of the grave he fell into every time he lost someone, he could never quite wipe off the soil from his skin no matter how much he scrubbed at it. It was ever present, always lingering, itching at his ears and eyes when he heard a laugh that was just to familiar, or a little girls sky blue bow, the same as one whose family will forever have a empty spot in every room of their house that a life used to fill.
His whole body shook as tears fell down his cheeks and he folded in on himself, knees tucked against his chest like a child hiding from a monster of his own creation. His ears rung like an ambulance siren; one hand gripped onto his necklace, the pendent stabbing small red dots into him, the other gripping where his neck and hair meet, small red lines carving into him as his grip tightened more and more as the panic grew. Those small red marks harsh against his skin where reminders that his was alive, that he was breathing, that his heart was beating in his chest and his blood pumping throughout his body.
And then, at the sound of a doors squeak and a soft cooing cry, it all stopped. His baby, his child, his sweet baby Jane, resting in Danas arms, reaching her small fingers out towards him. Both bodies illuminated by the harsh glow of the hospital lights, both faces shielded by shadow and yet riddled with worry.
He takes a deep breath, rids his face of tears the best he can, and stands up. Dana doesn’t say a word, she doesn’t need to, or perhaps more accurately she doesn’t know what she could say after the day they had.
Robby takes hold of Jane, holding her gentle yet firm against his chest, Jane immediately gripping Robby's slightly sweat soaked scrubs as tight as her little hands would allow as he slowly rocks her in his still slightly shaking arms and, resting his head lightly on hers, began whispering
“Oh, why are we crying little one? It’s alright, I got you. You’re not alone… Yeah, it’s going to be ok, I promise. I’m not going anywhere little one…yeah it’s all going to be ok. Why don’t we get you back inside, huh? Into a nice warm cot, you’ve had quite the day, haven’t you little one? yeah, you and me both, and I reckon we could both use a nap, what do you say?”
A little giggle, soft and sweet from a voice not yet dirtied by the problems of the world, escapes her mouth as he shifted her onto her back so they were face to face. Her hands immediately reach for his weary cheeks, smiling fiercely at her triumph in bringing his smile to his ears
“Thank you, Dana…you should go home, we’ve all had a long day”
“Yeah, alright…if you need anything, someone to talk to, help with little baby Jane…well I know you probably won’t but I feel like I need to tell you to call just in case”
“I know…I…I’ll try, I promise”
“That’s all I’m askin’ for…get some rest while you can, if this little sweetheart is anything like my oldest you’re not going to get a lot of it”
Dana chuckles as she gives Robby’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, brushes Janes soft slightly rosy cheek, and walks away with a warm smile and casual wave, both actions to relaxed for someone who just had the day she did. Robby sighs, releasing the last of his tears before kissing Jane sweet and soft on the forehead, and slowly patting her back as he stared patiently at her face. As he looked down at her, her entire being bright and warm, he could see her face change and shift. Blue eyes turned from brown to green to grey, small wisps of brown hair shifted to golden blonde then auburn then black then sun kissed hazel. Her small fresh face slowly morphed into every child that laid on his shoulders, the ones he sees in the brightly patterned pillow cases, cartoon print band-aids, and hears in vibrant guttural laughter. Freckles, dimples, button noses all slowly reappearing just as quickly as they left. Then it all faded away, and it was her. Just a baby that looked uncomfortably like the tired face staring back at her. Just his baby, that reached up to his withered face with not a care in the world about the actions he had taken or the mistakes he had made. To her that was just Robby, that was just her papa, just the man who would do anything and everything to keep her safe. With a shaky breath and a slightly broken smile he whispered out a small
“I love you more then anything in the world, I love the way you cling to people like you know everyone person in the world has some good in them…thank you for coming into my life, and for trusting me with yours…I forgive whoever left you here, whoever was hurting enough to give up such as beautiful baby…I hope one day you can to”
He took another sharp shaky breath, look away from her face and out into the glowing city night, and for a moment let every other noise aside from his own thoughts fill his ears, then sighed
“…and I hope you can forgive me if I can’t be who you need me to be…please forgive me if I let you down too”