vintergaek
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Marc has been in München for 6 months when he sees a ghost.
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No one has ever accused Fischer of being particularly self-aware, but he still feels like he should have seen this coming.
Alternatively, Fischer falls for La Cour in fits and starts.
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"Tell me something that brings you comfort."
"Something that brings me comfort?" Robby shot back, his tone mocking the frivolity of it, because he never was one to just follow directions.
"Yes," Gene said, eternally unfazed. "It can be the smallest thing, whatever comes to mind."
What came to mind was: Pens games, the trails at Frick Park, the rare book collection in the Oliver Room at Carnegie Main, a cortado at Sage Caffe. But what he said was: "Jack."
...wait. Shit.
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24 May 2026
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The night before his very first shift as an MS3 in PTMC, Robby meets a guy at a bar and goes home with him—it's perfect, but it's definitely just a one-night stand, especially when he bumps into the guy in the hospital the next morning: Jack Abbot, MS4, who doesn't even seem to remember Robby. Many, many years later, the Pitt Christmas after-party is at the same seedy bar, and it turns out Jack did remember, after all.
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22 May 2026
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Jack looked from the intern picture to Robby again, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. "Jesus, this is like a recipe." He gestured between the picture and Robby, young and old. "It's like twink plus seasoning equals daddy. Fuck," he said, a kind of helpless note to it. Then he walked out, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on Robby's head.
What did that mean?
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09 Apr 2026
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It’s on one such sunny afternoon that Sanji finds himself sitting at the base of a large tree, enjoying the warm temperatures while simultaneously shaded by its leafy branches. It’s peaceful out here, so much so that he can almost pretend he’s not a patient in a hospital who has no real plan for what he’s going to do next.
He flinches as that thought occurs to him, his shoulders already hunching protectively up around his ears. At the same time, completely without his permission, his hands start to bury themselves in his hair, tugging at the strands until they hurt.
“Stop it,” he tells himself sternly, rocking slightly back and forth. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. You’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine. There’s nothing to worry about here. Germa’s done, the rock’s done, and you made it through both. You’ll - ”
“What’cha doin’?”
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Bookmarked by vintergaek
09 Feb 2026
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Jack had just stepped back onto the main floor when he clocked movement at the ambulance entrance, two guys hurrying in, the smaller one helping a guy with a sweatshirt covered in blood. But something was wrong, some unnamable instinct rising within Jack at the way they moved. It was too fluid, too controlled. Jack knew what the walking wounded looked like, had seen it for years, from war zones to bar fights. This wasn't the injured seeking help; this was men hunting.
Time slowed, Jack's heart rate spiking, the adrenaline dump casting everything in sharp relief—the full ED floor, patients plus shift change meaning twice the usual personnel were here.
Robby was here.
That thought got him moving, Jack approaching laterally. He got there right as the guns came out.
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Bookmarked by vintergaek
01 Feb 2026