robby hadn’t seen you in years.

which, sounds bad when he’s talking about his own daughter, but that’s the position he’s in. he hadn’t meant to lose touch with you, but when your mom dragged you to california, it happened inevitably.

as a child, you hadn’t known anything different. for as long as you could remember, your parents were never together. weeks were spent with your mom, and the weekends and the odd days were spent with your dad. and robby had tried, when he had you. but you spent most of your weekends colouring at the nurses station and playing with blown up gloves with smiley faces drawn on them.

and robby was slipping. cancelling on weekends to sleep, drink. to heal. to try and find some sense of peace — for you. but your mom hadn’t seen it that way, and when you was ten, your mom moved you to california.

and robby hadn’t even waved you off.

there was the odd phone call. emails. you visited once, and half the time was spent with dana while jack tried to nurse robby through his hangover’s. that was the last visit, when you was old enough to remember the disappointment. and that was it — the phone calls dwindled. letters decreased and eventually stopped. you stopped grovelling for the attention you never received.

you’re pretty sure thats why you went to medical school. chasing the approval you never quite received you wanted to work in emergency medicine, to try and convince yourself that you had some sort of connection to your dad. but it was stressful — a student doctor in the covid pandemic and an incident with an older mentor.

when you inform him that you’re returning, he sorts out a transfer. helps you get the residency spot. you transfer quickly, move into a box apartment in the middle of the city, and start work as soon as you can.

but the connection doesn’t click as soon as you want it to.

and robby is distant, closed off from a daughter that he hasn’t seen in nearly fifteen years. he’s cynical and dark but you’re pink and bright and optimistic. empathetic. care too much.

that’s your problem. that’s also his problem.

total opposites thrown together. basically strangers.

but robby tries. keeps things strictly professional at work… not like much is happening out of work, but you take what you can get. dana and jack remember you, at least.

it’s a few hours into a night shift. samira approaches. “dr. robinavitch?”

we both look up.

samira hesitates, looks at robby. and off they go. he doesn’t even look back at you.

you breath in deeply through your nose, turning back to your chart.