callhimbuck
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“Say you got married,” Robby found himself asking. “Would you wear your dress blues? Or civilian clothes?”
It had only been an idle thought, no different than any number of easy, directionless musings of the sort that often came over the two of them on mornings like this one, when no one had a shift to go to for at least thirty-six hours. Robby didn’t mean anything by it. But he regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, even before he saw the incredulous grin slide over Jack’s face.
“Say I got married?”
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Bookmarked by callhimbuck
23 May 2026
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Esther looked at him steadily for a long moment, and then took her glasses off. "And you think this isn't a therapy question, Michael?"
(After the Fourth of July, Robby grapples with making a new path forward, with Jack at his side.)
Bookmarked by callhimbuck
20 May 2026
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The job offer came out of nowhere. Centennial Hospital, a level 1 trauma center in Colorado, wanted him to take over for their retiring chief attending. They'd heard the same rumors as everyone about PTMC—how it'd be taken over, transformed, the ED shut down. Didn't Jack want to get ahead of it and find himself a new gig, head of the department, master of his own fate? And the money, of course. Lots and lots of money.
Jack promptly told them to fuck off.
Bookmarked by callhimbuck
19 May 2026
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Instead, happiness had turned out to be a man with cold extremities.
Because of course it had.
Jack shifted behind him and, with a level of audacity usually reserved for toddlers and Roman emperors, slid his frozen foot against Robby’s calf.
Robby shot upright.
“No.”
Jack burst out laughing.
“No. Absolutely not. That is an act of war.”
Bookmarked by callhimbuck
01 May 2026
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It's a Tuesday in July and Robby has, in the past six hours, been punched in the face, had his nose set twice (long story), been informed that his college fish is now a matter of departmental record, ranked the nursing staff in order of quality (twice, differently, in front of each other), and received food he cannot eat for reasons that were clearly documented.
The food thing was Ogilvie. The fish thing was nobody's fault. The nose thing is complicated. (It also, somehow, involves Ogilvie).
Jesse has a bead kit. Dana has opinions. Jack is flying from Miami and has been texting Shen for updates since his arrival at the Atlanta airport, which Shen is finding both useful and, frankly, a little much.
The department is running fine without him. This is either very reassuring or extremely annoying, depending on the hour.
Gerald Fishman could not be reached for comment.
Series
- Part 1 of Happy Pitt Fics
Bookmarked by callhimbuck
21 Apr 2026