Chapter Text
The roof was quiet. And that was all Robby wanted. Silence. A void. Anything to drown out the soundtrack on a loop in his head that he couldn’t turn off.
Langdon’s voice: “What about you, man? I’m not the only one who’s a little fucked up here, why don’t you look in the mirror?”
Leah’s parents sobbing as he told them their daughter was dead.
And Jake. His Jake. Looking at him like a monster. Or worse - like a stranger. Jake saying, “We’re not friends. And you’re not my father. So fuck off.”
The irony of the moment didn’t escape him. Just this morning - a lifetime ago - hadn’t he talked Abbot off this very ledge? But he never worried Jack would actually jump. That was one difference between them - staring down the void gave his friend a sense of some power; staring into it now, stepping over the safety railing and feeling the pull towards silence, towards no guilt, no grief, no pain so sharp it physically hurt to breathe - it made Robby feel powerless. It would be so easy to give in, to just… let go.
“You’re in my spot.” Robby didn’t turn, but he knew the voice. Abbot. Of course. “Nice speech down there,” Jack said. “Wish I had given it.”
“No you don’t.”
Robby barely remembered what he had said to his team. Something about better angels and miracles. But it was all bullshit. The only true thing he’d said was, this place will break your heart. What he should have said was, this place will break your heart and your mind and your spirit and your body and no matter what you do, you will never be able to put all those pieces together again. So you walk around broken, day after day, fixing everyone else. Because that’s the job. That’s the life. If you want it.
Robby wasn’t so sure he wanted it anymore. Not after today.
As if reading his mind, Jack said, “You know, I think I finally understand why we keep coming back every day.” When Robby didn’t answer, he continued, “It’s in our DNA. We can’t help it. We’re the bees that protect the hive. And the medicine is the only thing we have, the only thing that makes sense when nothing else does, the only thing that saves the patient, and your sanity. In fact -“
“I’m gonna need a drink if you keep talking.”
“You get what I’m saying though, right?” Jack leaned over the railing separating them, tilting his head into Robby’s line of sight, forcing the eye contact that Robby was so desperately avoiding. “You rocked that shit down there tonight.” The words were like an arrow, carefully aimed and fired straight into one of the many cracks in Robby’s crumbling walls. He flinched, as if wounded. He couldn’t let that arrow in. He was barely keeping the walls up as it was. He had to turn around, grip the railing with both hands to steady himself, and Jack took the opportunity to put a warm hand on the back of Robby’s neck and pull him in so that their foreheads touched. “You. Rocked. That. Shit. Down. There. Tonight.” He repeated each word slowly, firmly, searching Robby’s face for confirmation that his words were sinking in.
Robby should have nodded, said, You’re right, I know you’re right, I’ll be okay. Instead, he closed the space between them and pressed his mouth hard to Jack’s.
It was a shaky, needy, clumsy kiss. It was also a thing they had done before. Not regularly. But there had been bad days for both of them. Bad thoughts. Bad decisions. And on days like that - when the void started to look a little too enticing - they somehow knew to find each other, to ask for what they needed.
So the kiss was also a question. A plea.
Robby felt Jack’s fingers kneading into his neck. His voice was low when he said, “Are we doing this? Is this what you want?”
Robby wrenched his face away. “Yes. No.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Jack shrugged, leaning on the railing. “Well… you know I’m here for you, brother. Whatever you need.” He continued rambling, making dumb jokes and the kind of small talk that seemed absolutely insane after the events of the day. But at the same time - his voice might have been the only thing keeping the void at bay. “Robby, did you hear what I said? I said - how about you get on the right side of that railing and we go get that drink?”
Robby took a breath. Jake and Langdon and Leah’s parents were still there in his head, but with Jack next to him, talking - always fucking talking - they got a little quieter. He climbed over the railing and walked with Jack back into the hospital.
They made their way across the street, to the park where the Pitt day crew sometimes met for a beer after work. A smaller group than normal had gathered - Princess, Mateo, Donnie, Javadi, and - to Robby’s surprise - Mohan. She didn’t usually socialize after work, rarely talked about her life outside the Pitt. Glancing at her now, Robby realized that despite working with her for three years, he didn’t actually know anything about her. As he looked around the circle, he realized how little he knew about any of them. It was self-preservation mostly. The less he asked, the less that might be asked of him. Walls up, always.
He wondered briefly where the rest of them were - Santos, Whitaker and King especially. How was it even possible that today had been their first fucking day? Those that were there sat together, drinking, talking, letting a little of the day’s weight lift from their shoulders. Eventually, Robby stood. “Okay, that’s it for me.”
“Beer for the road?” Jack asked.
“Why not?” Robby replied and caught the can Mateo tossed him. He put in his earbuds and walked through the park, his head full of music, the beer cold in his hand. He felt better with every step he took away from the Pitt. Back in control.
He had lost his cool with Langdon, but the kid needed help and he was going to make damn sure he got it, whatever it took.
He hadn’t been fair to Leah’s parents, hadn’t given them the time, the compassion they deserved, but he would call them on Monday, check in, make sure they had the best supports in place.
And Jake. He had told Jake it was okay to blame him for what happened, as long as he didn’t blame himself, but bearing that blame was going to be really fucking hard. Jake was the closest thing he had to family, but now… he was alone. Maybe he deserved to be alone. Leah wouldn’t even have been at PittFest if it weren’t for him. On any other day, he might have been able to save her. He could have tried anyway. He should have tried. He should have tried harder. Fuck. He let her die. He left her parents alone and sobbing. He let Langdon become a fucking drug addict right under his goddamn nose. He couldn’t save Leah. He couldn’t save Adamson. He couldn’t stop Dana from getting hurt. And when it mattered most, he couldn’t even stop himself from falling the fuck apart.
Robby’s hands were shaking, his breath coming in short gasps. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, but ignored it, pulling his hood up over his head and breaking into a jog until he swiped his condo building’s key card, rushed into an elevator, and just made it into his own unit before he crumpled into a helpless heap, shoulders heaving with sobs. Curled up on the floor, Robby managed to pull out his phone, still vibrating insistently, and stare at the screen through blurry eyes.
No, he thought. Not you. Not now.
He forced himself to sit up and take a long, shuddering breath. The next time the phone buzzed, he answered it. “Stop fucking calling me, Abbot,” Robby rasped. “I’m fine. I don’t need a babysitter, I just need to sleep. I mean it. I’m fine. I’m -“ He meant to say it again - I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. Say it till it was true. But his breath caught. His voice hitched. And what came out was more strangled sob than words. Finally, he managed to whisper, “I’m fine.”
There was a long pause. Then simply, “I’m coming.”
***
“Beer for the road?”
“Why not?”
Jack watched his friend catch the beer Mateo tossed him, put in his earbuds, and walk away. He had seemed better down here on the ground. Not suicidal anyway, so that was an improvement. But Jack knew this trauma mindfuck space all too well. He knew the way the logical brain rallied, convincing you that you were fine, you were over it, you were in control.
It wouldn’t last. It never did.
He pulled out his phone, shot Robby a text: You good?
The others had left or were starting to pack up, so he re-attached his prosthesis and put on his shoe. As he was tying his laces, he glanced up at Samira, still sipping her beer, her hair loose around her face, her eyes a bit glassy. “So, is it the park you don’t like, or the company?”
Samira’s brow furrowed. “What?”
Jack waved as Mateo and Donnie left, carrying the cooler between them. Then said, “I heard a rumor you’re not a fan of socializing. With… people.”
He only meant to tease her, but her tone was indignant when she replied, “That’s not true, I’m not anti-social. I just don’t like awkward social situations with… people.” Even as she said it, she was rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I hear how that sounds.” She tossed her empty can into a nearby recycling bin, then folded her arms across her chest. “And anyway, this wasn’t socializing. This was…” She faltered, her voice trailing off.
Jack stood up, slinging his backpack over a shoulder, and looked at her. More than a glance. All hint of teasing gone. “This was wound care,” he said softly. “I get it.” He took a step towards her. “And listen, I just want you to know, you were a fuckin’ rock star in there tonight. You know what I’m talking about.”
Samira’s arms fell to her sides and she ducked her head. “Oh, well... I would never have done that on my own. But…” She looked back up at him, “I did want to say thank you. For believing I could.”
He took another step towards her. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, and leaned in so his mouth was near her ear. Then, in a whisper, “You can do fucking anything.” He turned his face to look at her, his voice a murmur when he said, “If I didn’t believe that before, I sure as hell believe it now.”
She didn’t step back, held his gaze with those big, dark eyes, tilted her chin up ever so slightly.
If there was one thing Jack Abbot knew, it was when a woman - or a man - wanted to be kissed. And there was no doubt in his mind or his body at that moment that Samira Mohan absolutely wanted to be kissed. And fuck - fuck - he wanted to kiss her so badly. Had wanted to for some time. But she was a resident and he was an attending. Robby would never let him hear the end of it if this became a thing.
And Robby hadn’t texted him back… and something about that just wasn’t sitting right.
“Samira…” he said, but she instantly lowered her gaze and turned away, grabbing her own backpack off the grass.
”Thank you again, Dr. Abbot,” she said. She gave him a small smile, and in her face he read the regret, the exhaustion, the understanding. Unfortunately, it only made him want to kiss her more.
“Good night, Dr. Mohan.”
“Good night,” she replied, then turned and walked away.
Jack checked his phone again. Still nothing from Robby. He called Robby’s number, and it went straight to voicemail. He sent another text: Today’s gonna hit hard. I can be there when it does. And another: I’m here if you need me.
He waited, but there was no response. He was probably being paranoid. Robby probably went home, turned his phone off and went to bed. Which was exactly what he should do too. But he couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. He tried calling again. And again. He was already walking in the direction of Robby’s building. The next time he hit Robby’s number, the fucker actually picked up.
Jack listened - to everything Robby said, and everything he didn’t. He heard the rawness of tears. He heard all the shame and desperation Robby was trying to suppress. He heard the despair in those two words - I’m fine.
He punched in the code for Robby’s unit on the keypad at the building’s entrance, took the elevator up, strode down the hallway, and knocked on Robby’s door. When there was no answer, he tried the handle and found it unlocked. He let himself in, locking it behind him. “Robby?”
There was no answer. The lights were off and for a moment, Jack was struck by a wave of pure panic as he crossed the living room, slid open the balcony door, and leaned over the railing. Thankfully, he did not find Robby’s body splattered on the concrete below. He walked back inside, poked his head into the spare room, found it empty. He looked in Robby’s room next, found it empty too. But the door to the attached bathroom was closed and there was the faint sound of the shower running behind it. Jack dropped his backpack on the floor and knocked lightly. “Robby? It’s Jack. Just checkin’ in. You alive in there?” No answer again and Jack opened the door, nearly tripping on the pile of clothes on the floor in the dark. He turned on the light, and took in Robby standing under the spray in the glass-enclosed shower, forehead pressed to the tiled wall. “Robby?” he called again, but Robby didn’t move. Jack opened the glass door. The water hitting Robby’s skin was ice cold. His eyes were closed, his body shivering. Jack turned the shower off, grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around Robby’s shoulders. “Alright, brother,” he said, “time to get out.” He guided Robby out of the shower and patted him dry, then led him to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lay him down. Robby curled on his side and didn’t say a word.
Jack sat on the edge of the bed, took off his shoes and jacket, removed the prosthetic foot, and got undressed, right down to his underwear, talking while he did it. “So, I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re fucking freezing and what we really need here is a heated blanket or a couple of heating pads… but I’m gonna guess you’re fresh outta those? That’s fine, man, that’s okay. It just means we’re gonna do this the old-fashioned way.” He slipped into the bed behind Robby, under the blanket, wrapping strong arms around Robby’s chest, pressing his body in close, sharing his heat. After a few minutes, he felt Robby’s hand come up, icy fingers curling tightly around his forearm. “I’m here,” Jack said, into the back of Robby’s neck. “I’m here.” In response, he felt Robby’s other hand moving between their bodies, grazing the bulge of his cock through his briefs. Even as Jack’s body responded, all the warning bells started going off in his head. Yes, they had done this before… but it was complicated. For Robby, Jack knew there was shame wrapped up in the act. In needing it. In needing anything from anyone. And especially now, in this fucked-up state of mind, damn near catatonic… the last thing Jack wanted was to do something that Robby would later regret. “Hey,” he said softly, “Slow down.”
But instead, Robby pulled Jack’s cock free from his briefs, stroking it roughly, despite the awkward angle between them. Then he was grasping it by the base and pushing the tip against his own opening, trying to grind his ass into it. “Whoa, whoa,” Jack said, “Robby, stop. You’re not… ready.” He covered Robby’s hand with his own. “Red light. I said stop.”
That was when Robby threw Jack’s arm off of him and stood up, turning to glare down at him. “What did you think was going to happen here, Jack? What? That you would show up and kiss it all better?” He shook his head, his eyes red-rimmed and a bit wild in the light streaming in from the bathroom, his mouth a hard line. “I don’t want that. I’ve never wanted that. So you can either fuck me, right now, like this, or you can get the fuck out of my house.”
Jack got up on his knees, forced his hard cock painfully back into his underwear, and moved to the edge of the bed, arms outstretched, meaning to put his hands on Robby’s shoulders. But before he could touch him, Robby was shoving him back. Hard. Jack Abbot did not appreciate being shoved. “Careful there, brother.”
“You fucking pussy,” Robby said. Then he was grabbing Jack by the arm and trying to haul him off the bed, but Jack easily pulled his arm free. And then it was him shoving Robby, so that he stumbled backwards a few steps.
The rest all happened so fast. Robby’s fist came swinging at Jack’s face - a punch he saw coming and dodged, using Robby’s own momentum to pull him down onto the bed. They fought each other, wrestling like teenage boys, instead of two grown men who had just been through hell and back together. Despite Robby being taller, Jack was the stronger man and his combat training snapped into effect, so that he quickly had Robby pinned underneath him, a wrist in each hand, held down to the mattress. “Is this what you want?” Jack demanded, breathing hard. “Huh? You want it like this? You got your heart torn apart today, so why not your body too, is that it? Well, we’re not doing that, Michael, do you hear me? I’m not doing that.”
A single tear escaped from the corner of Robby’s eye. “This is exactly how I want it,” he said. "Just do it, Jack, just fucking do it. Make it hurt. I deserve it. Please.” That last word twisted something sharp in Jack’s chest. He sounded so… broken.
Jack dropped his head, just breathing, thinking. He couldn’t do what Robby was asking, wouldn’t make it hurt. But he sure as hell could make him feel something. He looked up, meeting Robby’s eyes, decision made. “Alright, listen Robinavitch, here’s how this is going to go. I’m in control now. You do what I say when I say. You don’t speak unless I tell you. You don’t move unless I tell you. You don’t fucking breathe unless I tell you. You with me on this - yes or no?”
He felt Robby’s body deflate beneath him, all the fight gone out of it. Robby closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“Good, okay,” Jack said. “Glad to be back on the same page here. Now I’m gonna let go of your hands and you’re gonna get my bag and bring it over here.” He slowly took his weight off Robby’s torso and released his wrists. Robby sat up, then retrieved Jack’s backpack and handed it to him. “Perfect,” Jack said, unzipping the bag and rummaging through its contents, finally lining up a bottle of water, a small bottle of lube, a row of condoms, and a package of wet wipes on the bedside table. “Now, you’re gonna lie down on your back for me and stretch your arms up above your head and touch the wall… good, yeah, just like that. Now, you’re gonna keep them there. You’re not gonna stop touching that wall until I say you can, understood?”
Robby licked his lips and nodded. His eyes were veiled, his cock hard, his expression impossible to read. Looking down at him, Jack wondered what he must be feeling - nervous? Excited? Ashamed? All three? Anyone else and Jack would have asked the question out loud; made his partner use their words. He was big on communication, especially when play got… intense. But with Robby, he let it slide. There would be time for talk later. Right now, he wanted to focus on touch.
It was easy enough to manoeuvre around Robby’s bed one-footed, and Jack settled into the space between his long legs. He reached out, pressing both palms to Robby’s chest. He let his rough fingertips skim down, gently tweaking taut nipples, tracing a line down to the bellybutton and feeling Robby’s lean frame ripple at the touch, feeling the jut of hipbones, then finally closing his fist around Robby’s cock. He spat on the head, spread the wet down the smooth shaft, and began a slow handjob - long, firm strokes from base to tip, never taking his eyes off Robby’s face.
Robby’s eyes were closed, his features pinched as if in pain. “Don’t…” he ground out. “Don’t want you to… Don’t deserve -“
“What did I say, Robby, huh?” Jack cut him off. “You speak when I say you can speak. Did I say you can speak?” Robby only groaned in reply. “I decide what you deserve, got it? And if I decide you deserve a little fuckin’ pleasure and a little fuckin’ release right now - then that’s what we’re doing. Now take one hand off the wall and toss me the lube.”
“Who the fuck carries lube around in their backpack?” Robby demanded, reaching one long arm towards the bedside table and tossing the bottle in Jack’s direction without looking, unable or unwilling to make eye contact. His head fell back against the pillow, resigned. Jack’s mouth twitched in a half-smile. Small steps, he thought. He coated two fingers in lube, and slowly, started to work Robby open.
“I do,” Jack replied. “So should you. So should everybody. You just never know when it’s gonna come in handy. Now put your hands back on the fucking wall please.” He kept his voice low, his fingers moving, twisting, pushing a little further in. “Relax for me, Robby. Let me in.” He paired the probing fingers with his other hand still wrapped around Robby’s cock. “That’s it, right there.” He curled his fingers, finding the right spot and stroking it, and felt Robby’s cock swell. “You gonna cum for me Robby, huh?” Robby’s eyes were closed, his breathing uneven. “Stop fighting it,” Jack told him. “Let go, Michael. Let today go. Let everything go. Do it for me.”
Robby came hard, spilling into Jack’s hand, his whole body going rigid with the rush of release. On his knees, Jack shifted towards the bedside table, putting the lube back, using a wipe to clean his hands, then opening the bottle of water and taking a drink. He let himself fall back, lying beside Robby. “Can I take my fucking hands off the wall now?” Robby asked.
“Maybe if you ask me nice.”
“Fuck you, Jack,” Robby breathed the words as he brought his hands down and turned his body to Jack’s, finding his mouth, kissing him too roughly.
Jack accepted the kiss, one hand on the back of Robby’s head. He pulled back, watching Robby’s face. “You still want me to fuck you?” In response, Robby turned over, pressing his ass back into Jack’s hardness. They were right back where they had started. Bending his knees, Jack slid his underwear off so that they were finally both naked, pressed together, generating real heat. “Is that a yes?” Robby only pressed himself tighter against Jack’s body, making a low whining sound. “Gonna need a verbal confirmation here.”
“Yes, fucking yes, you know the answer is yes!”
But Jack was already reaching for a condom, sliding it on, then coating his cock in lube, rubbing the head against Robby’s asshole. “Breathe,” he commanded quietly, before slowly starting to push in. He felt Robby’s sharp inhale at the initial stretch, then his shuddering exhale, as Jack buried his cock inside that impossibly tight ass. Jack held still, snaking an arm around Robby’s chest to hold him in close. “Red, yellow, green, brother,” he said, lips moving against the back of Robby’s neck. “Tell me where you are right now."
Robby was breathing hard, but his answer was clear. “Green.”
In response, Jack tightened his arm around Robby’s chest, and started fucking him properly, slowly at first, until he was open and slick and groaning with every thrust, as Jack picked up speed and force. Jack sank his teeth into Robby’s shoulder as he finished, knowing his friend welcomed the pain. Robby hissed softly as Jack withdrew, then went silent as he turned over to get cleaned up. They lay next to each other, not speaking, for some time, before Jack finally said, “I should get back.” Robby didn’t reply and Jack sat up, re-attaching his prosthesis, gathering his stuff, putting his clothes back on. He sat on the edge of the bed, closest to the bathroom, to put his shoes on and while he tied them, he asked, “You want something to help you sleep tonight?”
Robby laughed a little and it was the best sound Jack had heard all night. “Is there anything you don’t have in that magic bag of yours?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Jack turned, reached out a hand, cupped it to Robby’s cheek and chin. “You did good today, Michael.” Robby immediately tried to turn his face away, but Jack’s grip was firm, holding him in place. “I mean it. You did good. More good than harm. And that’s all that matters. Tell me you hear me.” Robby rolled his eyes, but Jack wouldn’t let him go. “Tell me.”
Finally, Robby had no choice but to meet Jack’s gaze. “I hear you,” he said. It didn’t make any of it hurt any less, but somehow saying it out loud made it feel a little closer to true.
Jack gave Robby a light slap on the cheek. “Good boy.”
As he stood up, Robby said, “Hey, uh, sorry about earlier… when I tried to punch you in the face.”
Jack laughed. “Apologize when you even come close to doing any damage.” He slung his backpack over a shoulder and headed out the bedroom door.
“You know, you’re a real asshole, Abbot.” Robby said the words to Jack’s back, but Jack heard the smile in them.
“Love you too, brother,” he called back, before walking out of Robby’s apartment, ready for the night ahead at the Pitt.