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Robby felt like an asshole even before he hit the call button.
Abbott had been crowing about his impending vacation days for weeks now. A reprieve from the madness he called it. Jack had even taken to pointing out the fire extinguishers scattered around the Pitt during handoff- just in case the place caught fire without him. So Robby knew it was shitty to call, shitty to put this- his crap on him-
But Jack had made him promise.
And he was trying, trying to be better. Trying to lead by example , trying not to end up on that damn rooftop- or at least trying to stay on the right side of the railing.
So he hit the fucking button.
Robby scrubbed at his face as he listened to the phone ring. Part of him hoped it would kick him to voicemail, that Jack had done what he’d said he was going to and thrown his phone out the damn window and fucked all the way off-
“Robby?”
He swallowed, exhaling harshly.
“Yo Robby, you there?” There was a faint thunk as Jack tossed something aside on the other end of the line, “Did something happen- you guys need me to come in?”
Robby cleared his throat, “I’m off today,”
There was a pause, “Okay,” Jack said, waiting for an explanation- clearly wanting to know why Robby had blundered his way into his sacred peaceful hours. “Rob, what’s up?”
For a second Robby considered just hanging up, calling it all a wash and just going to bed, but then someone on the street below began yelling and he felt his chest tighten in response.
“Shit, okay,” he squeezed his eyes shut, latching onto the sound of Jack’s even breathing through the phone, “Can you come over?” Robby asked quickly, forcing the words out before he lost his nerve. “I just-”
“-Yes,” Abbott responded immediately, cutting him off, “Are you at home right now?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m at my apartment- I can text you the-”
“No need,”
Robby closed his eyes and nodded, heart in his throat he let himself drift listening to the sound of quick shuffled steps and the jangle of Abbott’s keys as he moved around his apartment.
He’d been feeling out of it all day- since yesterday if he was being honest with himself- but he’d tried to shrug it off, to get lost in the rhythm of the ED. And it had worked, to an extent- he’d made it through the day without so much as a sideways glance from Dana- but he’d just felt… tired.
Fucking bone-deep exhaustion. The kind that made it hard to get out of bed, made him think about quitting his job- made him maybe think about quitting more than that.
He’d realized about noon that he owed Jack a call. At least, according to the deal they’d struck after Pittfest- after the roof, after everything.
It had still taken him six more hours to get the phone in his hand though.
“- Michael! ” Robby sucked in a hard breath as he realized the other end of the call had fallen into a tense silence. From the tightness in Abbott’s voice, he’d tried more than once to get Robby’s attention.
“Still here,” Robby said, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. He’d had a tension headache building most of the day. If he couldn't manage to knock it down by the time he was due back at the Pitt he’d be chasing Dana down for a Toradol shot.
Through the phone he heard the stirring start back up, slower though. “Gonna need a status update there brother,”
“Sorry,” Robby said, “Sorry I’m- I didn’t mean to- I’m fine,”
“Try again,”
“I’m fine, man, serious- just…” He trailed off, “Just having some head stuff,”
Jack was silent for a moment, then, “I’ll be there in twenty.”
“No-” Robby shook his head, “Don’t fucking speed, I know you’re further away than that,”
“Twenty,”
“It’s-” Robby’s voice faltered as he struggled to explain, “Nothing happened man- it was an easy shift, nothing-”
“Easy Robinavitch, don’t gotta get into it now,” Jack said, cutting him off though not unkindly.
He got it, he did. He could see the logic in Abbott's words, could see that he was trying to avoid hitting a trigger when he was still half a city away- But Robby didn’t know how else to explain that he had no good reason for any of this. That there’d been no incident, that he just felt like shit and now he was selfishly making it Jack’s problem too.
Robby sighed bringing his hand to his face again, “Okay,” he said softly, “okay, I’ll see you soon,”
“Hey Robby,”
“Yeah?”
“You gonna be okay until I get there?”
He nodded to himself, his head spinning a little at the movement, reminding him to breathe. “Yeah man, I’ll be fine,” He said. When Jack didn’t respond immediately he tacked on a quick, “Promise,”
Jack hummed in response, “Okay brother, you want me to stay on the phone?”
Robby’s eyes burned a little at the lack of judgment in his voice, even as his stomach rolled in the face of his friend’s compassion.
“Nah, I’ll see you soon,”
“Yeah, fifteen out,” he said.
“Jesus man- Don’t fucking speed,” But the last of Robby’s words were cut off as Jack ended the call.
His knees felt weak and he let them take him down to the surface of his overstuffed couch. The hum of the city outside his window filled his ears, at first comforting, but the longer he sat with it the more suffocating it became. The thought of hundreds of thousands of lives teaming below him, living and breathing and dying- the sound of their existence carried up to his apartment window on the back of the piercing whirl of sirens.
Every horn, every yell became a case of violent road rage or a twelve-car pile-up. Every raised voice an incident of domestic violence or a kitchen accident. A car backfire was a gunshot was an explosion was a dead body . Blood and bruises, and broken bones- the world was swimming in it and Robby was fucking drowning.
His hands wrapped around each other tightly, and he drew his shoulders up over his ears like that would keep the noises out. He could tell his breaths were getting tighter and thinner and it drove him fucking crazy.
He tried to shake his body out in frustration, determined to keep his shit wrapped up, unwilling to have Jack find him in that state. He’d broken down and made the damn call, the last thing he needed was to give the other man any more first-hand evidence of how much he was struggling. He didn’t want to think about the consequences.
Jack is coming
He repeated the phrase over and over in his head. First, as motivation, to stand up, pick up the shit he’d abandoned on the floor, to stop shaking. But the more he failed at those tasks the more desperate the refrain became.
Jack is coming
He tried some breathing exercises but instead of relaxing him it just made him angry, left him choking on resentment and frustration. He couldn’t be like this, couldn’t fall apart like this- and he couldn’t even lose his shit in peace cause he’d made a fucking promise to a friend to call if things got bad.
He almost rang Jack back and told him to forget it. To go home and forget it.
But Robby knew it wouldn’t work. Best case scenario Jack would absolutely start fucking speeding- worst case he’d call EMS for a fucking wellness check. Because, while they didn’t talk about it, Robby knew that Jack had lost more than a couple of friends since coming home.
Robby had recognized the fear under Jack’s usual biting sardonicism when he’d asked him to promise to call. He knew what a fucking awful thing it would be to ask Jack to go home now- that Jack, for all they were friends, for all they relied on each other, had each other’s backs- would never be able to trust him that he was okay.
“Fuck,” Robby whispered to himself as he buried his head in his hands, all at once terrified that he’d broken something between the two of them irrevocably.
With that the dam cracked, he began to shake. Feeling horribly exposed he slid off the couch, wedging himself between the seat and the coffee table in the center of his living room. He grit his teeth, folding his fingers behind his head and pressing his forearms to his ears, trying to block out the nightmare outside his window.
And stupidly, selfishly he began to think.
Jack is coming, and he’ll fucking fix things.
He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but at some point, exhaustion forced the tension from his body. He still felt distant and foggy, small shivers running down his spine, and his chest fucking hurt, but he was pulling in breaths more evenly now.
He wasn’t really thinking of anything, his brain too tired to hold onto any one thought long enough to string another one to it. Just a messy parade of Jake and Leah and everyone who’d died the interim, every crying family member- then fuck what if the elevator is broken when Jack gets here? And Samira, am I riding her too hard? Am I driving all of them to this? Then the cycle of recrimination would begin again, as he remembered the blood on his hands.
Still, though, he must have been more checked out than he thought- as one moment he was alone, and the next he was being met with a sharp. “Fucking hell Robby,”
Jack’s steps were fast as they crossed the room, and he was at Robby’s side before the front door slammed shut behind him.
“Robby, hey- you with me?” Jack didn’t touch him, but he was certainly close enough to.
He nodded, his stiff neck protesting the movement. Slowly he unlinked his hands, hissing a little as he became aware of where his nails had dug in. “Yeah,” he said softly, “Yeah I’m- I’m good,”
Jack shifted onto the ground beside him, gently pulling one of Robby’s hands into his own with a light scoff. “Bullshit,” he said. “If you were good, you would have answered the door when I knocked instead of making me hunt for your spare,”
Robby nodded again, acknowledging the truth in his friend’s words. Slowly he pulled his head up and squinted against the glow over his overhead light as he tried to make eye contact. Jack studied his face, his gaze intense as always as he looked him over.
“You do anything I gotta know about, man?” He asked softly, the corners of his mouth tight.
“No,” Robby said, dropping his gaze again.
Jack nodded, apparently trusting him at his word. He peered down at the little cuts on the back of Robby’s hand and frowned. “Come on,” He said, “Let’s get you off the ground. Neither of us is as young and flexible as we once were,”
Robby let Abbott slip his arm over his shoulder and pull him upright carefully. His knees protested the change in position, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he swayed in his friend’s grasp. Luckily they didn’t have far to travel, and he found himself sinking into his couch again seconds later.
Jack crossed the room and switched off the overhead, taking a second to slide his deadbolt into place. Robby chose not to think further about who’s benefit that was for. Then Abbott made his way back and settled himself on the edge of his coffee table.
He had a bag with him, a small first aid kit that Robby knew lived on the shelf by Jack’s front door. Silently he opened it and methodically went to work cleaning the backs of each of Robby’s hands in turn.
He didn’t know if it was better or worse, the silence.
“Thank you for calling me,” Jack said at last, the tightness in his voice summoned a lump to Robby’s throat.
“Almost called you back,” He said, “told you to go home,”
Abbott laughed, low and a little bitter, “Well then, thank you for not doing that shit,”
“Yeah, figured it wouldn’t go over well,”
He shook his head, “Hell no, it wouldn’t have,” He went quiet again as he wrapped up his work, silently replacing the contents of his kit, “I hit traffic coming your way,”
Robby hummed, not quite making the connection.
“Brother,” He said tightly, “you didn’t answer the fucking door,”
Robby’s eyes jerked up to meet Jack’s, his gaze hard and intense and… scared.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to,”
“I know, brother- I saw,”
Robby broke eye contact first.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked, “Something happen?”
“No,” Robby said, his voice coming out sharper than he meant it to. He took a second and tried again, “No, nothing. I don’t fucking know man, I just feel like shit,”
“Yeah,” Abbott said softly, with more understanding than Robby felt he deserved, “ \You eat anything today?”
He hesitated, which in it of itself was practically an admission of guilt. In truth, Robby hadn’t been able to do much of anything today- and once he’d realized he probably owed Abbott a call, his anxiety had killed anything resembling an appetite.
“Game plan then,” Jack said as he stood, “you’re gonna chill there, I’m gonna make you something light- then we go from there,” He paused, leaning in, “Yes?”
“Yes,” Robby agreed.
“Good fucking deal,”
Robby spent the next twenty minutes taking slow even breaths, as Jack moved around his kitchen, cooking and swearing in equal measure. Tossing insults left and right about Robby’s organizational skills.
At some point, Robby managed to retrieve his phone, but the sight of four missed calls from “Jack Abbott” threatened to send him back over the edge in a dizzying spiral of guilt. He pushed the phone away as he took small careful breaths, listening to the racket that had shattered his isolation.
Jack returned shortly with soup, and Robby shot him a look as he placed a bowl in front of each of them.
“Hypocrite much?”
Abbott scowled at him, “Shut it Robinavitch, eat your dinner.”
They ate in silence, and while it wasn’t quite comfortable, it was something. Eventually, Jack pushed his bowl away and sunk back into Robby’s sofa, absently massaging his leg. Everything was catching up with him now, and Robby felt his eyes drooping with exhaustion. But any chance at drifting off was shattered as Abbott opened his mouth.
“Robby,” He said then, “You thinking about killing yourself?”
Robby let his head drop against the back of the couch, “I’m not gonna jump,”
Abbott snorted, “Good deal man, but not what I asked,”
Robby sat for a moment in the thickening silence, struggling to find the words, struggling to know if the words even wanted to be found.
“I’ve been thinking about quitting,” He said at last, “and I don’t know man, sometimes I think those… things, feel the same,”
Jack didn’t say anything but Robby could feel him nodding. He wasn’t sure he’d made any sense- he didn’t mean that wanted to quit and kill himself- at least he didn’t think so- but he knew what he’d been craving was some kind of hard ending. A clean break.
He wasn’t an idiot though, he knew it didn’t work like that.
“Can’t say I don’t know the feeling,” Jack said nodding, his presence solid and reassuring, “I get a break like this and… let's just say you aren’t the only one that’s been dealing with some ‘ head stuff’, ”
Robby turned and fixed Jack with a scrutinizing look, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” He said with a shrug, not volunteering any further information, “Just- my point is, I’ve been there. A lot. And I’ve found things that work, that help… but,” He shrugged. “Just… I fucking love you, brother- it’s important to me that you get that,”
Robby resisted the urge to look away, “You too,”
“I’m serious,” Abbott shook his head, “I love you- and fuck you for waiting this long to call by the way, but… thank you for calling,”
Robby hesitated, “You don’t need my shit too, man,” he said at last, “Not on top of everything,”
“Yeah well, I don’t give a fuck- wouldn’t have told you to call if I did,”
A new siren started up outside his window, and Robby felt himself tense. Besides him, Jack did too.
“I gotta piss,” Robby said as he pushed himself off the sofa ducking Abbott’s gaze as he walked away.
He didn’t bother with the overhead in the bathroom, relying instead on the warm glow of a child’s night light in the corner. He’d bought it a couple of months into dating Janey, and while Jake had certainly aged out of needing it now- the star-shaped lights that spilled through the cover had remained.
Robby took stock of his appearance in the mirror, assessing the damage. He looked expectedly haggard but frankly, better than he’d feared. He was pale and the bags under his eye were verging on impressive, but it wasn’t, well, Peds.
Small mercies.
Robby turned the faucet on and splashed some water on his face. He stayed there for a moment in the dark, pulling in slow even breaths until he felt a little more settled in his skin.
Only when the cold porcelain of the sink began to warm beneath his hands did Robby make a move to leave. When he pushed open the door, he was surprised to find his kitchen light turned off as well and Abbott hovering silently in the center of his living room.
“Alright?” Robby asked, watching him.
Jack nodded, his jaw tight, then said, “So here’s the deal brother, I’m not going anywhere- I’m staying right here tonight,” He looked like he expected a fight, but Robby only nodded.
“Makes sense,” he said, “We both know your night vision is going at your old age,”
“Oh fuck you,”
“Practically a public service,” Robby added, “keeping you off the roads,”
Abbott rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “Look man,” He said, unable to fully hide the stress in his voice, “I’m not gonna lie to you and pretend like this didn’t dance on a few of my own triggers- but that’s my shit, and right now dealing with my shit means staying here and fucking making sure that you’re good. So sorry brother, but I’m taking the fucking-”
Robby reached out and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Jack went stiff in his grasp, but after a moment, he reached up and held Robby back, digging his fingers into his sides like he could anchor Robby in the here and now through sheer force of will.
“I fucking love you,” Jack said, his words muffled in Robby’s shoulder, “You scared the shit out of me today, but I’m so glad you did. I’d always rather you call,”
“I’m sorry,”
Jack squeezed tighter, “Nothing to be sorry for brother, just glad you’re here,”
Robby’s eyes burned as he buried his face in his friend’s neck. On the street below a driver laid on their horn, and Jack brought his hand up to rest on the back of his neck, holding him firm in the face of the world’s noise.
He knew it was unfair, unrealistic, but for a moment Robby’s head went silent, settled on a single thought.
Jack is here, and he’s going to fucking fix things.