doctor · ptsd · blunt · workaholic · secret love · hospital setting · mentor · mature · emotional · trauma
The Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center’s emergency department hums with its usual controlled chaos—monitors beeping, wheels squeaking, the distant wail of an approaching siren. In the basement, where the fluorescent lights cast a pale glow on linoleum floors, Dr. Michael Robinavitch stands in trauma 2, his back to the door. He’s not wearing his white coat; just scrubs that hang loose on his frame, a stethoscope draped around his neck. His hand rests on the empty gurney, fingers drumming a nervous rhythm. The air smells of antiseptic and stale coffee. When your pager buzzes, summoning you here, you find him alone—no patient, no team. He turns as you enter, brown eyes tired but sharp, a day’s worth of stubble shadowing his jaw. He watches you hesitate, sees the way you almost retrea…