Chapter Text
The condensation on your third margarita is pooling on the sticky bar counter, reflecting the neon beer signs humming in the window. Outside, the muggy Pittsburgh heat is thick, and the distant, rhythmic thump of early Fourth of July fireworks is just starting to rattle the glass.
For the first time in what feels like months, your phone is silent. You are off the clock. You are beautifully, warmly tipsy, and the hardest decision you have to make tonight is whether to order nachos before the grand finale over the river.
Then, your phone buzzes.You curse, looking at the contact info. You’re not even on call tonight, why the fuck is Maria calling you?
You answer, pressing a finger to your other ear to block out the bar noise.
"Tell me nobody dropped a brain on the floor," you say. It’s not really funny, but it’s the best you can come up with three drinks deep into the evening.
"No," Maria says, her voice tight but gentle. "But I need a favor.”
“Ah shit.” You say. Maria is your charge nurse, and in the couple of months you’d been working at the PTMC, you’d quickly learned that you never turn down the opportunity to do her a solid. But goddamn it, it’s the fourth of July, you were out with friends, pleasantly drunk, and the cute guy across the bar has been making eyes at you all night. “What is it, Maria?”
”You said when you were doing your residency you did a kinship foster, right?” Maria asks. In the background you can hear vague yelling.
Your stomach drops. “Um, yeah, just once …” The three-year old boy had stayed with you just for one night before his foster family picked him up.
“Ok, somebody left a baby in the ED.” Maria says, she sounds genuinely upset. “And they can’t find anybody to foster her. Pedes won’t take her because she’s healthy. I - I hate to ask, but do you think -” She doesn’t ask the question, just trails off.
“Ah, Maria -” You respond sadly, “Somebody abandoned a baby?”
“She’s about six weeks? Too old for Safe Haven.” Maria says. You can hear her sadness over the phone. “They’re getting a court order, but it’s a holiday weekend and … Dana says she’s just crying in the ED.”
“Oh jeez.” You feel your heart constrict. You look around, then sigh. “Ok, listen. I’m a five-minute walk away from the hospital, but I am three drinks in. I - I can head over, but…”
“Ok, yes. Please.” Maria says, “I’ll tell the ED you’re coming and manage their expectations. It’ll just be for one night. Two, tops.”
You apologize to your friends, and send a sad little smile to the cute guy across the bar, who shrugs as he watches you leave.
The walk to the hospital is a blur of humid air and the smell of sulfur from firecrackers. By the time you stride through the automatic sliding doors of the Emergency Department, you are acutely aware that you are wearing denim cutoffs, a slightly wrinkled linen shirt, and the distinct aura of tequila.
You navigate the chaotic holiday triage, flashing your badge until you find the designated quiet corner near the nurses' station.
A tiny, swaddled lump in a rigid plastic hospital crib, screaming her head off. She’s all alone in the room, and you feel your heart break.
You check her diaper and reswaddle her tight before picking her up and holding her close to your chest. “Shhhhh” You try to sooth her, rocking back and forth. You wander over to the computer and pull up her chart.
Green lights all the way.
"Excuse me, who are you?” You jump, spinning around. One of the ED doctors, an attending, judging by the age, is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He looks exhausted, with his scrubs slightly rumpled and shadows bruised under his eyes. His gaze drops from your face to the baby, then down to your shorts before coming back up.
“I work here.” You blurt out, trying to keep your voice low. “Um, well, not here here, I’m in neuro?” You pat the baby girl on her bottom, and it seems to calm her down. You can’t see her face but you can feel her going limp in your arms.
You give him your name to zero recognition. “I started a couple of months ago.”
“Ah, the wiz kid.” He tilts his head. “I remember Conley talking about you, she was pretty happy to grab you from New York.”
You smile, “Yeah, that’s me.” You slow the rocking, almost certain that the baby is asleep. “Um, Maria said she gave you guys a heads up? I’m - uh -”
“She’s doing the kinship adoption.” An older, blond woman walks in. “Hey kid, how you doing?”
“I was on my third margarita, Dana.” You say, grinning. “Now I’m holding a baby. So you know.” You shrug.
"Are you..." The man steps closer, tilting his head. "Are you drunk?"
"Um…I am tipsy," you correct. "It's the Fourth of July. I was off the clock."
"We’ll take tipsy,” Dana said, “I can hook you up with some break room coffee if you need.”
You flinch at the mention and shake your head. “I’m good. I’ve mostly sobered up during the walk here.”
“You walked?” The guy presses, looking incredulous.
“Well I’m not going to drive after three drinks, am I?” You scowl at the older man. Who is this guy and why is he being a jerk. “Look, if you don’t want me to take her maybe you should take her home then.”
He winces and looks away, like you’ve physically wounded him. A surge of guilt rises in your chest. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just -” You start to apologize.
“No, my fault.” He shakes his head and gives you a tight smile. “I’m - sorry, it’s been a long day. I’m Robby, by the way.”
“Oh!” Your eyes widen as you recognize the name, “You’re the department chief, right?”
“For a little while longer, yeah.” He says. Next to him, Dana shakes her head with a sigh.
“Right, you’ve got your vision quest.” You smile, “Dr. Conley was talking about it the other day.”
Robby stares at you, the hard line of his jaw working as he processes this. He looks at you, then down at the sleeping baby, and then back at you.
“So, uh -” you pat the baby a bit, “You need me to sign some papers before I take her?”
“Yes dear, one sec.” Dana waves what looks like an entire ream of paper. “Couple of forms.”
You wrinkle your nose. “That looks like the manuscript for the Lord of the Rings.” You grumble. It is definitely more than a couple.
“Here, I can hold her if you want to fill those out.” Robby reaches out, all but making grabby hands.
You pass the baby to him carefully, hoping not to wake her. She fusses for a moment in Robby's arms, but quiets down almost immediately. You watch as he starts murmuring to her and fight back a smile. He’s sweet with her, sweeter than he was with you, anyway.
Dana leaves you to fill out the forms and you hunch over the charting table, filling out your personal information half a dozen times to be filed with different government agencies.
“Sexual history. Why do they need to know my sexual history?” You mutter angrily as you continue to complete the form.
Beside you, Robby lets out a snort. You look up, he’s still holding the baby, pacing slowly around the room to rock her.
“You know, she’s been asleep long enough that you could try putting her down.” You say as you flip the page to start on yet another form. “Saves your back.”
“I’m good.” He says. And he looks like he might be, the way he’s holding her, you could have guessed it to be his baby.
When you’re finally done, hand nearly cramping from the effort, you look up to find that he’s standing in place, rocking the baby gently and staring at you.
"Right. Okay," you mutter, pulling out your phone and suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "I just need to DoorDash... some…baby…stuff.” You mumble as you start scrolling. Diapers and formula you can get from the department, but you need somewhere to put her for sleep, maybe a pack n’ play of some kind. You need wipes for her, maybe some clothes. The rest, blankets and onesies, you could probably take from pedes.
You tap furiously at your screen, watching the little loading circle spin endlessly. A red banner pops up: NO DASHERS AVAILABLE IN YOUR AREA.
"Damn it," you breathe, hitting refresh and hoping for the screen to change. “Damn it, damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Robby asks, looking slightly alarmed.
“Nobody’s working doordash.” You scowl at the unchanging screen. “I can’t - I can’t drive, and I don’t have a car seat anyway - fuck - How am I gonna -”
“Woah, hey -” Robby takes a step to you, he’s holding the baby with one hand and the other one reaches out, though it hovers just above your shoulder and doesn’t make contact. “Ok, how were you going to get her home then, if you can’t drive?”
“I’m a five minute walk away.” You say, “I was just gonna…walk her.”
“Ok, ok.” Robby mutters then sighs. “How about this, you text me what you need and walk her home, I’ll go pick it up for you and drop it off.”
Your eyes widen at the offer, “What? No, Robby, that’s too much. I can’t -”
“It’s really not too much.” He says, “Least I can do. I insist.”
You hesitate, still feeling strangely guilty about imposing on him. ED shifts are tough, and if he’s still here after a day shift…you do a rough calculation in your head…he must have been working close to sixteen hours now.
Robby sighs again, it’s a long, heavy, defeated sound. “Come on, you don’t want to give me your number or something? Promise I won’t use it for anything not baby related.”
“What? No, that’s not -” You shake your head then relax at the sight of his grin, forced as it may be. “Ugh, fine.” You mutter, pulling out your phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you.”
He recites a string of numbers, and you dutifully save him under Dr. Robby in your phone. You text him a barebone list of what you need to survive. “Get the receipt, ok? I might be able to return them if I only use it for one night.”
“Sure, sure.” He nods, and gently transfers the baby back to you. “You take care of our girl.”
You freeze at the same moment he does. The two of you were almost touching, and the moment was strangely intimate. You huff a laugh, shaking off the strange feeling, “Ok baby girl, you’re with me.”
It doesn’t take much longer to get out of the hospital. Once Dana finds out Robby is playing delivery man, she reassures you that she’s gonna get you as much stuff as you need from pedes and send it home with him.
The walk back to your apartment is slower than usual and takes ten minutes instead of five. The sporadic noise of fireworks wakes the baby up at some point, but she only cries for a moment before settling again. She’s tired, but the fireworks must attract her attention, because she fights to keep her eyes open as her eyes track the colors in the night sky.
You manage to get her settled once again when you get back to the apartment, thankful that the nurses had fed her before you left the hospital. You pace the length of your living room with her, kicking the clutter to behind the couch as you go.
Not ten minutes later, your phone lights up with a new text.
I’m outside.
You open your door to find Robby standing there awkwardly, shouldering one giant shopping tote with two large boxes next to him. Your eyes widen at the sight of bags sitting near him.
“Did you clean out the store?” You ask, side stepping as he starts bringing things into the apartment. "How do those even fit on a motorcycle?"
“Just got some stuff I thought you might need.” He says, “I went home first, got the car."
He spends ten minutes walking through all the things he’d bought. Extra diaper cream, organic cotton wipes, pacifier, swaddle blankets, two stuffies that feel impossibly soft to the touch. Then, he starts ripping open the cardboard boxes.
It takes him another fifteen to set up the pack and play for you. It’ll do as a makeshift crib for tonight. You direct him to put it in your bedroom, and are slightly embarrassed at the sight of the unmade bed you rolled out this morning, as well as several pieces of laundry strewn about the floor, including the red lacey bra you’d been wearing two nights ago.
“Um, it’s usually not this bad.” You explain as you hurriedly kick away some dirty socks to make space for the baby stuff.
“Mine’s worse.” Robby says easily and sets the pack and play down where you’d gestured earlier. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh woah, is that -” You pause, suddenly noticing the logo on the side of the contraption. “Did you buy a Nuna?”
“A what?” He asks, brows furrowed.
“The - the pack and play -” you recognize the brand from your sister’s baby registry. It had been one of the most expensive things on there and she had been upset when nobody bought it for her. “That’s …. I didn’t even know they sold those in Walmart.”
He shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed, “I just got the most expensive one, figured that probably means it’s better.”
“Oh Robby.” You shake your head, and gently set the baby down. She doesn’t even fuss when you lift your hands up. “Thank you so much for this.” You turn and smile at him. “You really didn’t have to. I’ll pack it up again tomorrow, ok? Maybe they’ll let you return it still.”
“It can go with her.” He says easily. “It’s - whoever’s taking her will probably need it, right?”
You open your mouth to argue, then remember the department chief salary and close your mouth. Who are you to tell the man he can’t spoil a strange baby?
“Ok, well….” You look around the room awkwardly. “I’m probably going to turn in too. Who knows how much sleep she’ll let me get tonight. Lucky I don’t have a shift tomorrow.”
Robby looks at you and hesitates, then tentatively says, “I can stay with her if you want to go get ready for bed.” He looks towards your ensuite, one hand holding the edge of the pack and play. “If you’re worried about her being alone.”
“I wasn’t.” You say, “I’m just gonna be right there.” You gesture to the clearly in sight ensuite. “It’s a tiny apartment, Robby. I can hear her even if I’m on the other side.”
He looks like he’s ready to argue, and you flash him a smile. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with her a little bit longer though. She’s a cutie pie.”
He lets out a sigh of relief, “You gonna give her a name?” He asks, watching as you putter around the room.
“For one night?” You shake your head. The last time you did this, the nurse had stressed to you that you shouldn’t get attached, to think of yourself as a temporary babysitter. “I think JD is good.”
“I don’t know, that’s more of a boy’s name.” Robby says, though he’s smiling softly now, eyes crinkled in the corners.
"We'll see how she feels about it in the morning," you reply, grabbing a handful of clothes from your dresser. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."
You slip into the ensuite bathroom, leaving the door cracked just an inch. As you squeeze toothpaste onto your brush, you can hear the low, rumbling timbre of Robby's voice bleeding through the gap. You can't make out the words—just a soft, continuous hum of reassurance.
You wash away the last traces of sweat from the day, splashing cold water on your face and tying your hair back. You quickly swap your denim cutoffs and shirt for your most comfortable pajamas: a threadbare, oversized t-shirt and a pair of worn-in cotton shorts. You pause before you exit the bathroom, slightly anxious about seeing a department chief in your pajamas, before deciding that it really couldn’t be worse than him already seeing you tipsy.
When you step back out into the bedroom, Robby is exactly where you left him. Both hands are resting on the top rail of the pack and play, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he watches the baby breathe.
"She still down?" you whisper, padding softly barefoot across the room.
Robby blinks, pulling his gaze away from the bassinet to look at you. His eyes sweep over your oversized shirt and bare legs, "Yeah," he murmurs, clearing his throat quietly. "Out like a light."
"You want to hang out in the living room for a bit?" you offer, gesturing over your shoulder toward the hallway. "I can grab you a glass of water. Or a beer, if you're not driving immediately. You look like you could use a minute before you hit the road."
Robby shifts his weight, his fingers tightening briefly on the edge of the Nuna. You can practically see the war playing out behind his eyes. He looks toward the open door, then back at you, a heavy sigh escaping his chest. He clearly wants to say yes. He looks like a man who wants nothing more than to collapse onto your couch and let the exhaustion take over.
But he shakes his head slowly.
"I shouldn't," he finally says, his voice thick with regret and sheer exhaustion. "I've gotta get home, shower the ED off me."
“Alright.” You know better to press. You walk him out to the front door, the heavy silence of the apartment settling around you both now that the distant fireworks have finally stopped. The air conditioning hums quietly in the background.
Robby pauses with his hand on the door. He looks down at you. "You're sure you're okay? You have everything?"
"I'm good, Robby. Seriously. Thank you again." You offer him a soft, genuine smile, touched by his stubborn refusal to stop worrying. "I'll keep you posted on baby Jane Doe, okay? I'll text you an update."
"Yeah. Please do," he says earnestly, his posture relaxing just a fraction at the promise. He hesitates for a second, his eyes tracing your features as if he wants to say something else, but then he just nods. "Goodnight, Doc."
"Goodnight, Robby."
You close the door behind him, locking the deadbolt with a soft click.