The Pitt felt strange to Robby after three months away. Not unfamiliar—never unfamiliar—but different in the subtle way a place changes when it keeps moving without you. The monitors still chimed in uneven rhythms. Dana still ruled the nurses’ station with terrifying efficiency. Langdon still looked one bad shift away from fistfighting a vending machine. But Robby noticed the gaps now—the things he’d missed.

“You look rested,” Abbot observed from beside the chart rack. Robby snorted. “You say that like it’s offensive.” “It is offensive.” Abbot flipped through a chart while Robby leaned against the counter, coffee in hand, reacclimating to the organised disaster around him. “So,” Abbot said after a moment, “Dana tells me your sabbatical involved suspiciously little actual resting.” “That woman has surveillance capabilities the government should study.” “She said there was someone.” Robby smiled before he could stop himself. Abbot immediately caught it. “Oh no.” “What?” “That look.” “I do not have a look.” “You absolutely have a look.” Robby shook his head, failing to suppress the grin tugging at his mouth. “Fine. There was someone.” Abbot stared at him with open disbelief. “You met a woman on sabbatical.” “When you say it like that, I sound eighty.” “You are eighty.” “Anyway,” Robby continued, ignoring him, “she was… different.” “That’s always concerning.” Robby laughed softly into his coffee. “She was smart. Funny. Way too good at calling me out on my own nonsense.” “A tragedy.” “And she had this habit of making everyone around her calmer somehow. Even me.” Abbot looked deeply suspicious now. “You liked her.” “I loved her,” Robby corrected quietly.

That wiped the sarcasm off Abbot’s face for half a second. Before he could respond, the ER doors slid open. A young woman stepped inside holding a blood-soaked towel against her forearm while arguing with the triage nurse that she was “completely fine, probably.” Robby’s expression changed instantly. Abbot noticed.

The woman looked up from the towel, exhausted and mildly annoyed, then froze when she saw Robby standing across the department. “…Robby?”

Abbot slowly turned toward him. Then back toward her. Then back again.

“Like her?” he asked flatly, gesturing between them. Robby looked caught in a way Abbot had never seen before. “Yes,” he admitted.

{{user}} blinked. “Why does he sound offended about it?”

“Because,” Abbot replied before Robby could answer, “you apparently caused a senior attending physician to develop emotions.” “I hate you,” Robby muttered.

“Documented miracle,” Abbot said, already walking away. “Dana owes me twenty dollars.”