Chapter Text
You were so incredibly, indisputably, and entirely screwed.
That was the first thing that came to mind upon waking up in the emergency room. The last thing you remembered was setting up your classroom. Being the week before school started back up, you had of course been super tied up in the new teacher trainings and meetings. You had put off decorating your entire classroom until the day before school started. Drawers were set up in a flurry, the desk chair was finally assembled, and the rug was unrolled. The last thing was putting up borders above the chalkboard. You stood up from the floor to grab the stapler.
And then promptly passed out, apparently, according to the doctor who was charting on the computer beside the bed when you woke up. He was blond and looked about your age, leaving you wondering if he was even old enough to be a doctor. Evidently he was a student.
“I don’t remember the ride here, is that like, is that okay?” You worried your lip between your teeth.
He nodded, settling into the stool by the bed. “Yeah, memory lapses like that can sometimes happen with fainting. Do you remember the fall?”
The blush that took over your face spoke for itself. “Enough to be embarrassed. Seems like a pretty stupid way to end up in the emergency room. And a terrible way to meet my new boss, my first impression is going to go down in the history books.”
Your new principal had decided to stop by at that very moment to greet you before the first day. He watched the whole thing go down, and had been the person to call the ambulance.
“He works in a middle school. I’m sure it’s not even in the top fifteen weirdest things he’s ever seen.” Whitaker joked.
You laughed outright at that, wincing when the motion jostled your arm where it laid beside the bed.
“Is it broken?” It was your dominant hand that you used to break your fall. Which was going to really, really suck, not being able to write. How was grading going to work? How was teaching going to work, period?
Whitaker shrugged. “If it is, it’s not a bad break. But you’re going to need an X-ray to be sure. I’m really sorry in advance, but the wait is kind of long. After my attending comes over and talks with you, we’ll put a splint on and then we have to send you back to the waiting room until a machine is available.”
“It’s all good, wait’s not your fault. The pain meds are kicking in and I have my headphones and a good playlist. I’ll make it work.” You shrugged, honestly too tired to care if this pain med induced nap happened in a bed or a waiting room chair.
Whitaker seemed surprised by your lack of pushback, standing up and presumably going to find the attending. You noticed as he left that he had a soul mark, a black T adorning his left wrist. He had a platonic soulmate, and they’d already met.
Everyone was born with the first initial of their soulmate on their wrist. The mark was light gray, easily covered by makeup or ignored. If you had one on the right, you had a romantic soulmate. If you had one on the left, you had a platonic one. When someone met their soulmate, the initial would burn and go from gray to black, inking destiny into your skin. It was rare to have a platonic and a romantic soulmate. Even more rare to have two of either.
You had two light gray letters on your left wrist.
A few minutes went by without the return of Whitaker and his attending, and you tiredly wrestled one handed to get your headphones out and plug them into your phone. You pressed play on the playlist, and the tiredness of a busy week started catching up to you. Having always been an anxious person, moving to a new place and starting a new job all at once really messed up your sleep schedule. It had been weeks since you’d slept more than a few uninterrupted hours, and relying on caffeine and anxiety to keep you going had caught up to you. Even with all the buzz of the ER around, you ended up drifting off.
When you woke up, it was to pain in your right arm and burning on your left wrist. Your headphones were lying beside your head, music still playing softly.
“Hi, if you wouldn’t mind just waking up for me,” the voice, smooth and kind, called. “I’m Dr. Robinavitch, you can call me Dr. Robby, and I– oh, fuck .”
You sat bolt upright, the burning in your left arm taking over all of your senses. In front of you, a middle aged man in a zip up hoodie and scrubs stared at you with wide, kind eyes. His hand brushed yours. The attending. Dr. Robby. Your soulmate. Well, one of them.
You couldn’t do anything but laugh. “What does the M stand for?”
He stared for a long moment before laughing too, his nose scrunching, elbows on his knees with his hands in his beard.
“Michael. But I prefer Robby.” He gestured to his own wrist, initial covered by a watch and his hoodie sleeve. “You?”
You told him and watched his mind process it, putting a name to an initial he’d had on his wrist for twenty odd years.
He repeated it back to you. “Well, kid, it’s a good thing we’re paired up like this, since Whitaker tells me you’re quite the klutz.”
You blushed, half remembering slurring something about your track record of clumsiness to an EMT during the two minute long ambulance ride here.
“I told the EMT that in confidence,” you rolled your eyes dramatically and joked, “that’s like, definitely HIPAA.”
Dr. Robby snorted. “I’m your doctor.”
“Yeah, yeah,”
For a moment, you considered asking about the other soulmate. Did Robby know them? Was it just the two of you for now? For years you’d imagined this exact moment, assuming that the two came as a package deal at the same time. Wouldn’t that make sense? You were just about to ask him when a nurse came in, the wonderful woman who had done your bloodwork on arrival and managed to stick you on the first try even with the dehydrated veins. Perlah, you remembered.
“Hi,” she greeted the room. “Going to probably be an hour or two before X-rays, sorry. Whitaker, can you help the patient get settled out there? And Dr. Robby, incoming MVA, ETA six minutes.”
Robby nodded. He reached out and took your left hand in his, squeezing it tightly. You tried not to jump at the feeling.
“Well, I think we’ll have Whitaker here take you to the break room instead of making you sit out in the waiting room. Perks of me being here. My shift ends in two hours, I’ll come find you and we’ll talk.” He said, meeting your gaze with a smile that wrinkled the edges of his eyes.
You nodded and squeezed his hand back. “See you later.”
You noticed Perlah squint at your interlocked hands before her face schooled back to the calm and collected look she’d been wearing before. Her and Robby left in a hurry. You turned to Whitaker and saw a man who looked nothing short of bamboozled while he splinted your arm.
“First time seeing a soulmate match?” You asked.
He shrugged. “Uh, yeah, but I’ve also been here for months and that’s like only the second thing I have learned about Dr. Robby’s personal life.”
So he was the type to keep his cards close to his chest. Keep work at work and life at home. The topic of soulmates wasn’t usually taboo conversation. Just some people preferred it to be a private thing. Robby was probably a private guy. That, or he just didn’t have the time to disclose all his things when he was pulled in so many directions at once here. Either way, it didn’t bother you. This thing was between the two of you. And that third, still undiscovered person.
The staff lounge was just down the hallway from your room and around the corner. No one was in the room at the moment, which was surprising. Whitaker helped you settle into a couch on the far end of the room across from the fridge and counters.
“Oh, I forgot a pillow and blankets. Sorry, I’m just going to go grab that—”
You cut him off. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s freezing in here, and I don’t make a habit of sleeping on random hospital couches, but I honestly could not care less about that right now. I could fall asleep standing up like a horse.”
He smiled. “My first horse used to fall asleep like that in the middle of getting groomed.”
“You have horses? No fucking way.”
“I had them back home. Grew up in Nebraska.” He said, looking around the room for something. He found what he wanted draped across a chair, and helped you into the zip up hoodie. “Here, you can use Robby’s jacket.”
It smelled like coffee, antiseptic, and something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe his home, maybe his cologne. You mumbled a thanks to Whitaker, and just like that you were out again.
——
Being roused from sleep was much less disconcerting this time. Perlah walked you to the X-ray machine, which confirmed a stable fracture in your forearm. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for the cast to be put on. They even let you pick the color. They had the ugliest tie dye wrap you had ever seen, and you just couldn’t say no to it. The discharge process was easy, papers signed in shaky left handed scrawl.
Robby caught you at the desk, signing the last of the papers. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder, clearly ready to leave with you. You finished signing the papers, took your insurance from the nurse, and thanked them before following Robby out of the doors to the left.
“Hey, kid. Cute cast. Whitaker gave me the updates. How are you feeling?” He asked, matching your pace.
You shrugged and gave a grin. “Been better, been worse. Weird day all around.”
“You could say that,” he snorted a laugh, “I don’t want to pressure you especially after the day you’ve had, but I’d love to feed you dinner and get to know you. We’re walking toward my house, and my husband is probably starting dinner right now.”
“I, uh, I don’t know. Could we maybe do tomorrow? I’m all kinds of gross and not exactly great houseguest material at the moment.” You nervously suggested, a pang of panic about meeting his husband shooting through you.
Robby had a whole life, a husband, a career, friends, a routine. The last thing he needed was some kid in their early twenties to watch over. Was this going to be a disaster? Maybe. Did it matter? Not really, since you were pretty much locked in for life.
“Of course we can, how about lunch? Jack and I are both off tomorrow.” His hand took yours while you walked, not even interrupting your rhythm. His thumb stroked the back of your palm, calming the jitters you felt. You nodded, meeting his eyes. They were already on you, studying you. He grinned reassuredly, squeezing your hand. You squeezed back and the two of you kept walking.
He slowed to a stop on the familiar street. You discovered just then that your townhouse was across the street from Robby’s. Because of course it was. The universe was laughable sometimes. Your grandfather passed two months ago, right after your graduation, leaving you the house. It was why you’d chosen to look for work in Pittsburg.
That, and getting the hell away from your parents. You’d had to stay at home during college, not able to afford tuition plus an apartment or dorm. It was a hard few years, your parents falling further and further down the conservative conspiracy theorist, anti-vax rabbit hole. They’d always been rough, but that had been the cherry on the top of what you could handle. Your grandfather, a lifelong bachelor and your biggest supporter had left the townhouse to you in his will after passing away happily of old age.
“Tomorrow, noon. I can’t wait to meet you properly.” His hand found your shoulder, a grounding weight. Bringing you back to this moment. You nodded again.
“Come’ere, honey.” He took you into a hug, your head nestling into the crook between his neck and shoulder. His necklace was a cool touch against your heated face. His heartbeat was steady against your forehead. You hugged back as best you could with one arm, breathing in the unplaceable smell from his hoodie, his unique scent. “You alright?”
Your breath hitched, holding back tears that had appeared suddenly. “Long day,” you said, “Thank you for walking me home.”
“Home? You mean,” You felt Robby’s amused snort on your hair. “You’re the new neighbor. Of course you are.”