I Was an Island (Before You Came Along)

by thatsfarce

Summary:

Denial. Robby could recite the stages of grief like a prayer. But this? No, it simply wasn’t true. He’d seen Jack, what, an hour and a half before 8:24? Jack, who’d joked about…something. What was it? Hawkeye, that was it. Jack had called Robby ‘Hawkeye.’ And then he’d left, saying he’d see him tonight. Jack had said specifically that, he’d said he’d see Robby tonight. That wasn’t…that just wouldn’t make sense.

“No, he, uh…he’s back on duty in a couple hours, he’ll be coming in for his shift.”

It was such an inane thing to say. Exactly the sort of thing he’d find heartrendingly innocent in the family of a patient, when delivering the bad news. Not rational. Not real. But this had to be real, Jack had to be coming in for his shift. Handover was in two hours.

Officer Anders stepped in. “We’d like you to come down to the station with us to identify the body.”

-----

Robby finds out that he's Jack's emergency contact in the worst possible way: when he's called in to identify the body.

Can be a sequel to 'Day or Night,' but also works as a standalone. Title from 'I Was an Island' by John-Allison Weiss.

Chapter 1

Robby’s phone buzzed against his leg again. It was about the fifth time that hour, and once again he ignored it in favor of tending to the patient in front of him. It wasn’t that he didn’t intend to call them back, but anyone who knew him would know that he wouldn’t be very reachable while he was on duty. It would have to wait until the team stopped needing his immediate attention in twelve different places.

So, you know, probably not until the apocalypse rolled around.

“I’m looking for a Michael Robinavitch, is he around?”

Robby snapped his attention away from Santos, who was presenting her current case, and saw a pair of cops standing at the hub with Collins, their backs to Robby. Collins made eye contact with him over the shorter cop’s shoulder, asking a silent question.

“What’d you do, kill someone recently?” Santos whispered, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Robby glanced back at Santos. Then shot a nod at Collins. “You’ll want an EKG too, let me know once you’ve got those test results.”

Santos nodded, but Robby felt her hovering to watch as he took two steps towards the hub. He turned and shot an expectant look over his shoulder. Santos rolled her eyes, but departed. These students and interns were going to be the death of him; Robby was sure he’d never in his life been that young.

“What can I do for you, officers?” He asked, circling around to land at Collins’s side.

“Michael Robinavitch?” The shorter one asked. She was young, and wore blue eyeshadow, something which made Robby’s mind briefly drop down a rabbit hole of wondering whether there were uniform regulations on makeup pallets.

He drew his mind back to focus. “That’s me.”

The officers exchanged a glance. The older woman gave an encouraging bob of her chin. Robby knew that nod. He couldn’t count how many times he’d given it to a nervous student over the years, giving them the much needed, ‘yes, you’re doing it right, keep going.’ Robby didn’t usually love police in his ER, but this was endearing.

The young, pint-sized officer refocused on Robby. “Is there somewhere we could talk, privately?”

The fuzzy endearment disappeared in favor of a sharp stab of fear. In his many years of experience, he’d never asked someone to talk privately with that tone to deliver good news.

Robby nodded sharply. “Sure, break room’s this way.”

When he met Collins’s eyes and saw his thoughts reflected back at him. The name he’d been trying not to think forced its way to the surface of his mind.

Jake.

He pushed the thought down—deep, deep down—and led the cops to the break room. Javadi and Mateo were in there when Robby pushed open the door, but both scrambled to leave when they saw his expression. Or maybe it was the two police officers trailing behind him. Either way, they surrendered the space, and Robby turned to face the officers.

“So, what’s this about?”

The younger woman hesitated again, but pulled herself together quickly. “Um, well, I’m Officer Wilson, this is Officer Anders.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Robby responded, tightly.

He could practically hear himself giving the student feedback. You’re about to give someone the worst news of their life, and part of them knows it. Don’t beat around the bush, it doesn’t do them any favors. Be direct.

Apparently, Officer Anders agreed, because she cleared her throat, ever so slightly.

However far down Robby tried to shove the thought, it bobbed back up to the surface.

 

Jake.

 

Jake.

 

Jake.

 

Officer Wilson gathered herself again. “You’re listed as the emergency contact for a John Abbot, is that correct?”

The relief of not hearing Jake’s name was short lived as Robby processed what she'd said. Jack? Since when was he Jack’s emergency contact? And more importantly: oh dear God, what happened?

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I suppose I probably am.” Robby was surprised to hear his own voice come out so steady. But then, he’d seen this in countless patients and family members before. The shock of the event overriding the actual emotional reaction. “What…what happened?”

“At 8:24 this morning, the body of a white male in his fifties was recovered from the light rail blue line, at the Washington Junction stop.”

A dull ringing noise filled the room. Something wrapped around Robby’s ribs with all the force of a boa constrictor. Officer Wilson continued speaking as if nothing was happening, as if the room weren’t crashing down around them.

“Based on the documents found in his wallet, we believe it to be the body of John Abbot. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“No.” Denial. Robby could recite the stages of grief like a prayer. But this? No, it simply wasn’t true. He’d seen Jack, what, an hour and a half before 8:24? Jack, who’d joked about…something. What was it? Hawkeye, that was it. Jack had called Robby ‘Hawkeye.’ And then he’d left, saying he’d see him tonight. Jack had said that, he’d said that he’d see Robby tonight. That wasn’t…that just wouldn’t make sense. “No, he, uh…he’s back on duty in a couple hours, he’ll be coming in for his shift.”

It was such an inane thing to say. Exactly the sort of thing he’d find heartrendingly innocent in the family of a patient, when delivering the bad news. Not rational. Not real. But this had to be real, Jack had to be coming in for his shift. Handover was in two hours.

Officer Anders stepped in. Apparently, the student needed some support. Which is exactly the sort of thought that was not relevant right now. Nothing was relevant right now. “We’d like you to come down to the station with us to identify the body.”

“No, listen, I have to stay here until Jack—Dr Abbot—comes in to take over, he’s the night shift attending, I can’t leave until he gets here. In a couple hours, I’ll come look at whatever bodies you want.”

Anders was looking at him with a soft compassion that made Robby want to shake her. What about this didn’t she understand? Jack was on duty tonight, so he was probably still asleep now, Robby couldn’t exactly call him in early just to go running off to look at some stranger’s—the blue line.

They found the body on the blue line.

Robby suddenly remembered the breeze on the roof. What was it he’d said to Jack?

Jumping on my shift, well, that’s just rude, man.

What would be the next best thing to the roof? If jumping on someone else’s shift wasn’t an option?

Wilson was staring at him with damp eyes. She was too compassionate to be a cop. But then, Robby had thought that about students before who’d ended up finding a steel within themselves and becoming excellent doctors.

“Is there anyone we can call for you? To be with you right now?”

Robby was pretty sure that was his line. He shook his head, pulling out his phone and dialing Jack’s number from memory. He’d just have to wake him up, then, if that was the only way to prove once and for all that he was—the number was unavailable. Jack’s number was never unavailable. Robby must have dialed it wrong, he tried again, the two police officers watching him in silence.

“The number you are trying to reach is currently—”

Robby dropped his phone on the break room table. Breathe. Just breathe. He needed to keep it together, he was still on duty for fuck’s sake, he had to keep it together until—until what? Until the night shift rolled in, minus their attending? Then what?

Robby took another breath. He needed to focus on practical matters, everything else had to wait.

“I need to call in Shen, I need—” Robby’s voice gave out, briefly, but he got it back again. Adrenaline was a beautiful drug. “Okay, do you mind waiting for a while? I can’t leave the ER without an attending, so I need to call Shen in on his day off.”

Anders nodded. “Of course, let us know when you’re ready to go.”

Robby grabbed his phone again and fled the room. The droning sound was still echoing in his ears. Someone should call maintenance for that; it might be an electrical issue.

Robby found Collins still at the hub. She looked him over with a terrible concern. “What—”

“Where’s D—” Dana quit. Fuck, Dana wasn’t here. That made things even fucking worse. “Where’s what’s-his-name? Charge nurse?”

“Beck. He’s in the bathroom,” Collins supplied. “What’s wrong? It’s not Jake?”

“Jake’s fine, probably, I don’t know, he’s still not talking to me.” Not the point. Not relevant. Stick to solving one problem at a time. “Beck needs to call Shen in for tonight, there’s—” There’s what? What on Earth was he supposed to say about this thing that couldn’t possibly be happening? “There’s a possibility Abbot won’t be coming in tonight, and I need to leave early.”

“What’s going on?” Collins looked at him with growing fear in her dark eyes.

“Nothing, probably,” Robby couldn’t even tell if he was lying at this point. “I just need to go, um, make sure. Make sure it’s nothing.”

“You’re scaring me.”

That was the opposite of what he was trying to do. He was trying to keep this under wraps, need-to-know. Everyone else had to believe everything was fine. Because it was. Probably.

Collins was touching him now. When had she grabbed his arm? “Robby? What’s going on?”

Anyone else, he probably could’ve come up with a decent enough phrase to brush off their concern, but it had to be Collins.

His voice cracked when he said, “They want me to identify a body. They’re probably wrong, but they think its Jack.”

Collins clearly couldn’t come up with a response for that. It was a relief, to be honest. Robby wasn’t sure he could have found his voice again, it seemed to have run away on him. Beck reappeared at the hub and Collins turned to him quickly. Robby had no idea what she said to Beck, he was busy staring at the floor and trying to push down a wave of nausea. Whatever it was, it must have conveyed the urgency, because Beck leapt into action, grabbing the nearest phone. Robby should stop holding it against the poor guy that he wasn’t Dana. Beck was good. It wasn’t his fault he was trying to fill the shoes of an angel with a crippling nicotine addiction and the vocabulary of a drunk sailor.

Collins turned back to Robby. “I’m going with you.”

Robby shook his head. “No, no if I’m leaving early, they’ll need you here.”

“You can’t go alone.” Her hand was on Robby’s arm again. Why she was treating him like he was made of glass right now, he’d never know. She knew Jack too. She had every reason to be just as fucked-up about it as he was. “Not like this. There’s gotta be someone you can call.”

“I’m fine,” Robby argued, slipping away from her hand and trying not to think about the fact that he’d already tried calling that person.

“What about Dana?”

Robby looked up from the floor. That actually wasn’t a bad idea. Besides, Dana had known Jack for as long as Robby had. There was no good reason it should be Robby, and not her, on that stupid emergency contact form.

“You want me to call her?” Collins asked, seizing upon the fact that Robby hadn’t dismissed the idea.

“No, I will. I will.” Robby took out his phone, hands fumbling slightly. No new missed calls. No texts. Despite what he’d said to Collins, Robby dialed Jack’s number again. Collins moved away to confer with Beck, or perhaps to give Robby a bit of privacy.

“The number you are trying to reach—”

Robby hung up immediately and called Dana. She picked up on the third ring.

“If you’re calling to beg me to come back, the answer’s still no.”

Her voice, sounding so very normal, loosened the pressure around his ribs ever so slightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

“In that case, what can I do for you, Robby?”

“I need your help.” Admitting it felt like taking a rib spreader to his own chest.

She sighed. “Have you tried asking Beck? Kid knows his stuff.”

“It’s not about the job.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Dana processed. Then she said, “Where do I meet you?”

Collins reappeared beside Robby, pressing a hand to his back. “Shen will be here in half an hour. We can manage until then.”

“I’ll stay until—”

Beck chimed in. “You haven’t taken lunch yet. Consider this lunch.”

Robby looked at Collins. “How much did you tell him?”

“Not much,” Collins said, “He’s just that good. Go.”

“Robby?” Dana’s voice brought him back to the phone call.

“Right, yeah, I’ll text you the location. Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course,” She said, a hint of concern in her tone, “Always.”

Robby hung up on her, unable to formulate a response that wouldn’t worry her further. He looked back up to Collins and Beck. “Okay. Okay, you’re sure?”

“We’re sure,” Collins said. “Get out of here. And call me when you know anything.”

Robby moved on instinct, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he could think better of it. He pulled away just as fast. She smiled sadly at him. “Go.”

“Thank you,” He told her, “Beck, thank you, call me if Shen has any issues.”

Beck gave him a casual two-fingered salute. Collins just watched as Robby charged over to the locker room. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Whitaker moved into his line of sight, clearly coming in with a question. Robby shook his head sharply, turning to point the boy towards Collins. He didn’t trust his voice to speak. Thankfully, Whitaker seemed to get the idea, and he made his way over to Collins instead.

Robby retrieved his bag with unsteady hands, not able to stop his eyes from finding Abbot’s locker. Not able to keep from wondering if he’d be the one who would have to clean it out.

No.

Jack Abbot was not dead, Robby just needed to go prove that, and then everything would be fine. Probably Shen and Jack would have a good time razzing him for his overreaction. Robby tried Jack’s phone again. Unavailable. Whenever he got his hands on Jack, he’d strangle him for deactivating his phone.

Robby returned to the break room. Wilson and Anders fell silent as he entered, clearly assessing his emotional state.

“What’s the address?” He asked them, “I have a friend meeting us there.”

Robby sent the address off to Dana, then held the door open for the two cops.

“Let’s go.”

 

---

 

The police station looked exactly how Robby expected a Pittsburgh police station to look: aggravatingly better funded than the hospitals. His annoyance at the system was almost enough to distract him for a brief moment.

Almost.

“Hey! What the actual fuck is going on?”

Dana. Wonderful Dana. Dana would make this all make some fucking sense. She looked different. No longer the charge nurse, she wore a loose, sleeveless top, tight jeans, and ankle boots. It was a good look. Chic.

Unfortunately, she was also sending death glares at Wilson and Anders.

“Come on, what is it? I need to call you a lawyer or somethin’?”

“No.” Robby had spent the entire drive in silence, so now was surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. He sounded awful. Probably looked it too, judging from the gentle way Dana reached up to cup his face. “No, it’s probably nothing.” Robby had been saying that a lot. He really wished he could keep believing it. “They just want me to take a look at—” He couldn’t say it. “At something.”

“The morgue is this way,” Officer Wilson helpfully supplied.

“Morgue?” Dana asked, “The fuck is she talking about, morgue?”

Robby cleared his throat, trying and failing to make it not sound like he’d recently been intubated. “Apparently, there’s a body that they want me to look at. Turns out I’m Abbot’s emergency contact.”

“Abbot? But then—” The realization dawned over Dana’s faced. “No.”

“I’m sure it’s not him,” Robby said, and saw Wilson shift with discomfort out of the corner of his eye. She thought he was still in denial, but she was new, she didn't know about these things. It couldn't be denial, because Jack wasn't dead. “It can’t—he was supposed to be on in an hour.” Another thing Robby needed to stop saying. Especially now, since Collins had just texted him to confirm Shen’s arrival. No, fuck that. Jack Abbot better fucking roll up to his shift with a good explanation for why is phone was off, or Robby would go fucking nuclear on his ass.

He’d tried calling twice more on the way here. Jack’s phone was well and truly unavailable.

Dana took Robby’s hand and squeezed it. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s Jack Fucking Abbot, he’ll show up for his shift come hell or high water.”

“He fucking better,” Robby replied, not able to summon the righteous anger that he so badly wanted to, “Or I’ll kill him myself.”

Dana didn’t leave his side as they followed Wilson and Anders to the morgue. The cops were either kind enough not to mention it or too afraid of Dana’s glare to suggest she wait outside. Dana kept a hold of Robby’s hand. It made him feel like a child, clinging to someone’s hand for support, but Robby couldn’t find it in himself to pull away.

She squeezed his hand again when they stepped into the cold air of the morgue.

Morgues all looked the same, really. They were a lot like cadavers that way. Once something was dead, it lost its individuality and became an object. Still and cold and devoid of personality. This particular body was covered with a thin sheet. It was a familiar sight, but never one Robby enjoyed seeing.

Anders spoke up from where she positioned herself on the other side of the gurney. “Its not pretty. His face was severely disfigured from the impact, so we’re looking for any identifying features, birthmarks, scars, that sort of thing.”

Robby barely registered the instructions. He was staring at the body, praying silently.

“Are you ready?”

No, Robby wasn’t fucking ready. Of course he wasn’t. But he needed her to do it now, and do it fast, or he feared he might fall apart completely. Whatever electrical problem the Pitt had, they must have here too, because that ringing was only gaining volume in his ears. It took Dana nudging him with her elbow for Robby to finally speak.

“Yes.”

Anders had not been exaggerating. The face of the body before him was beyond recognition. But the back of the head was covered with familiar steel-grey curls.

The ringing fell silent. Everything was quiet.

Robby wanted to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t move, and even if it could there wasn’t any oxygen in his lungs.

He wanted to beat that corpse.

How fucking dare you, Jack Abbot.

After having the audacity to bring Robby back from the edge. After making Robby his fucking emergency contact, knowing he’d be the one they called. After holding Robby tightly at night and daring to tell him that it would be alright.

Nothing about this was alright.

Nothing.

Robby couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

The wind on his face. The wind on his face on the edge of the roof, looking down at Pittsburgh laid out before him in the dark. Two steps from the edge. It seemed closer now. So easy to take those steps.

The wind.

The lights below him.

The blood on his hands.

Jack’s arms.

Jack’s smirk.

Jack’s laugh.

A voice suddenly snapped Robby out of his stupor.

“Yeah…that ain’t him.”

At some point, Dana had let go of Robby’s hand, and she was now standing at the foot of the gurney, where she’d pulled the sheet back.

Revealing two feet.

Mangled, damaged appendages, not having survived the collision unscathed, but they were both clearly attached to the body. The corpse was not an amputee.

The corpse was not Jack Abbot.

Chapter 2

Notes:

I would once again like to state for the record that I have no medical training. If you see inaccuracies?? That's between me and my demons (wikipedia) please let us duke it out in peace.

Planning to put out the final chapter tomorrow.

It wasn’t Jack.

Robby was moving before he was aware he still could. He was out in the hall, moving faster than was wise given that he still couldn’t catch his breath. He dialed the number again, knowing it wouldn’t go through.

“The number you are—”

Robby heard Dana calling his name, chasing after him, but he couldn’t stop. He found a bathroom, ran straight into a stall, and vomited the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Distantly, he heard the door slam open again, and a deep voice yell, “Hey!”

“Medical emergency,” Dana’s voice said, in a tone that could not be argued with, “I’m a fucking nurse.”

She slid in beside Robby in the thin stall, placing a hand between his shoulder blades as he dry-heaved, nothing left in his stomach to dispel.

“You’re okay,” Dana murmured, “Shh, you’re okay.”

Robby had no idea how long they stayed like that, Robby’s body desperately trying to force some unknown thing out of him, Dana at his side muttering a constant stream of meaningless comfort.

Finally, Robby felt the tension in his stomach ease, and he collapsed against the stall wall, gasping for breath. Dana shifted over to sit beside him, her arm flush against his. Robby’s fingers found their way to the chain around his neck, pressing the pendant into his palm and murmuring a quiet prayer.

He fell quiet again, and the two of them sat in silence for a long moment.

Eventually, Dana took a breath and said, “So, you’re pregnant, then?”

Robby mustered a soft huff of a laugh, the motion jarring his now sore abdomen. “Yeah, something like that.”

“It Jack’s?” She said it as a joke, but she quickly sobered when Robby didn’t reply. “Oh, shit, are you two—"

“No, no, I mean, not that, but—”

“But somethin’, huh?”

“Something, yeah.”

Robby couldn’t judge Dana’s reaction as they both stared at the bathroom graffiti across from them.

“What sorta somethin’?” She asked, after a moment.

“The sort of something where I find out he made me his emergency contact without telling me.”

“Right.”

Another lapse of silence. Then Dana asked, “You two sleeping together?”

“No. Well, in the literal sense, yes, but not like that. We just…” Robby searched for the words to describe it. “Sometimes you need a person to go home to. Someone who gets it. Who makes it all make sense again. So that’s what we do, we go home to each other.”

“You live together?”

Robby shrugged. “No, but we exchanged keys. I sleep in his bed as often as my own.”

“And, uh…would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Sleep with him in the literal sense.”

“Would I have sex with Jack?”

“Yeah, are you…I don’t know. Bisexual?”

Robby sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He didn’t generally think about it, and now definitely wasn’t the time. “That’s a box to unpack a different day.”

“Right. When’s the last time you cracked one of those boxes of yours open?”

“Oh, you know, probably around 1998.”

Dana chuckled. He felt her shift next to him, struggling to comfortably maintain their position on the floor. Robby’s joints were starting to complain as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet.

“I can’t get through to his phone,” Robby told her, “I’ve been trying, I think its disconnected.”

Dana hummed thoughtfully. “Well, our two cops out there might have some more info for us. Then we should swing by his place, and yours, see if he’s just sleeping in. By which point he may very well have already turned up for his shift in the Pitt, wondering what all the fucking fuss is about.”

Robby breathed another quiet laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

“So what do you say, champ? Ready to get back out there?”

Robby took a deep breath and nodded. Dana stood, grunting as her sore joints straightened, then reached a hand for Robby. He took it.

Wilson and Anders were waiting for them in chairs. Well, this was a police station, not an ER, so perhaps ‘waiting room’ or ‘lobby’ would be more accurate. It looked like chairs to Robby. Wilson was shifting from foot to foot anxiously, but then, Robby would definitely be anxious if he contacted the wrong set of loved ones for the bad news.

Anders was the one to step forward and offer their apologies about the mistake.

“We’re very sorry to have alarmed you, hopefully your partner is safe and sound. It seems as though our body was something of a petty crook. That’s how he died, actually. He was trying to rob an older lady, when she fought back, he fell on the tracks. So we’re now working under the assumption he stole Mr. Abbot’s wallet.”

Robby just nodded. That made sense. He would’ve made the same assumption if someone of the same general age as the driver’s license would suggest came unresponsive into the ER. Unfortunately, that meant that sometime today, Jack had either been pick-pocketed or mugged. If he’d been pick-pocketed, he’d be showing up to the Pitt any time now. If not…

If not, he could be hurt.

Or worse.

“Can we have it to give back to ‘im?” Dana asked.

“I’m afraid its evidence. You should tell him to register his stolen documents with us, so he can get them replaced.”

“Yeah, we will,” said Robby, “Just as soon as we find him. Any chance you could help us with that?”

“Not until he’s been missing for 24 hours,” Wilson replied, bluntly, losing any fondness Robby might have developed for her in imagining her as a med student. Nah, she was just another cop.

“You find a phone?” Dana asked.

“The remains of one,” Anders said, “No way of knowing whether it belongs to our body or not.”

“Alright. Give us a call if you find anything out, okay?” Dana said.

Robby was already checked out of the conversation. Somewhere out there, Jack Abbot could be dying. Robby needed to move.

 

---

 

Robby paced.

They’d tried Robby’s apartment first, because it happened to be closer. Robby left a written note on the table, just in case Jack returned after they left.

Now Dana had her socked feet kicked up on Jack’s coffee table while she called various current and former Pitt staff members who might (might) hang out with Jack outside of work. So far she’d had no success.

And Robby paced.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and for a moment Robby convinced himself that the nightmare was over, but it wasn’t. It was a text from Collins, asking for an update. Robby typed out a quick reply.

Wrong old man. Still looking for ours.

Her reply was almost instant.

Thank god.

And then

Let me know when you find him.

“Alright,” Dana said from the couch, “Let me know if you hear from him.”

“Nothing?” Robby asked when she dropped her phone on the cushion beside her .

“Nothin’.”

Robby winced. “He should have been at the hospital by now.”

“I know.”

“He’s never late.”

“I know.”

“Even I’m late every now and then, Abbot isn’t, he’s annoyingly punctual. Often early, never late.”

“Yeah, I know, Robby,” Dana snapped, “What do you want me to do about it, huh? He’ll turn up.”

“What if he’s hurt?”

“Alright.” Dana dropped her feet off the table to sit up. “Sit down.”

Robby shook his head. He couldn’t rest, not now while Abbot was God-knows-where, potentially bleeding out.

“Robby.” Dana hit him with the same tone she’d used on the man at the urinal. “Sit.”

Robby sat, reluctantly.

Dana looked him in the eye with a steely stare. “I know you’re worried. Hell, I am too, you aren’t the only one who cares about that stubborn old fuck. But you need to take a fucking breath. You need to put something in your stomach. You need to sit down for at least twenty minutes.”

“I can’t.”

“You puked your guts up, darlin’, and that was after working, what, ten hours of a shift on your feet? Unless you wanna go pass out on the street somewhere, you’re gonna sit here and eat something and drink a fluid of some kind. Stay there.” Dana stood and started rifling through Jack’s cabinets. “Wow, sure doesn’t have a lot in here. What, he still living like a med student?”

Robby felt like jumping to Jack’s defense, but the truth was that Robby had never seen him cook. “He hasn’t restocked in a minute. There’s bread in the freezer.”

“You two keep your bread in the freezer? You’ve got fewer marbles left than I thought.”

Robby stood to help her, pausing when his vision faded dark at the edges. Okay, Dana had a point. Thankfully, she was too busy diving into Jack’s freezer to notice his brief dizzy spell.

“How do you ever make a sandwich?” Dana was asking when Robby’s vision fully returned. “Wait for it to thaw?”

“There’s this wonderful invention called a toaster, it’s all the rage with kids these days,” Robby said, retrieving a jar of peanut butter. He was pretty sure it was the only protein in the kitchen that wasn’t a developing biohazard.

“Ah, he’s got jokes now.”

“My whole life is a joke, Dana,” he shot her an ironic smile, “that’s how I cope.”

Dana rolled her eyes at him. Robby poured them both a glass of orange juice while the bread toasted.

A few bites of peanut butter toast and sips of orange juice later, Robby was feeling like a whole new man. Thank god for Dana. How would he survive without her? Beck was fine, but he was no Dana Evans.

As he chewed, Robby refocused on the matter at hand. “Okay, so if he was driving, he’d have been robbed right outside the hospital. Seems unlikely that no one would have spotted him by now.”

“Or right outside his apartment,” Dana added.

“Right, but we’re here, and no Jack.”

“You see his car outside?”

Robby stood—slowly this time, no sense passing out before his stomach had a chance to restock the sugar in his blood—and made his way to the window. Jack’s jeep was nowhere to be found.

“No.”

“So maybe it’s still at the hospital.”

“In which case, what, he decided to take the train for the fun of it?”

“If his keys got stolen.”

Robby shook his head, sitting back down. “If his keys were stolen, our thief wouldn’t have taken the train. And Jack would’ve come back in to m—to the Pitt.”

Dana shrugged, conceding the point. “Regardless, we finish our little break, then retrace his steps, right? Take the train, walk his route.”

“Sounds good.” Robby was quiet for a moment, but he sensed Dana watching him. “What?”

“You didn’t correct that cop.”

“Correct her about what?” Robby asked.

“She called Jack your partner, you catch that?”

Had she? Robby had been well and truly distracted for most of his conversations with Wilson and Anders, he had no idea what moment she was referring to, but it was definitely possible. Not that it meant anything. Robby didn’t particularly care what they thought about the nature of his relationship with Jack. Dana, on the other hand… “Uh, no, I didn’t notice. Next time, I’ll be sure to take a break in the middle of thinking my friend is dead to convince some strangers that we’re strictly platonic buddies.”

Dana rolled her eyes at him again. “Just something I noticed. That and the fact that you’re hosting me in his apartment, he gonna be alright with that?”

Robby just shrugged. Jack was a private person, but this was Dana, not some stranger. Maybe he’d bitch a bit about it, but Robby doubted he’d actually be upset.

“You ready to go?” It was an inelegant change of subject, but Dana let it go. Robby dumped their plates in the sink. Jack could chew him out for that later.

 

---

 

There’d been no sign of him, either on the walk or in the packed train station itself. Robby shouldn’t have been disappointed by this. He knew it was all an incredibly long shot, that Dana was only humoring it for his benefit, but it still twisted a knife in his guts.

They boarded the light rail. Dana ended up wedged against the door, Robby trying to give her as much personal space as possible while keeping a hold of the handle above her head.

It was no wonder diseases spread so quickly in this city. Everyone and their cousin locked themselves together in an enclosed space every morning and evening, for an hour or so. Robby wished he’d thought to bring a mask.

A lurch of the train sent him crashing into Dana, and at the same time his phone began vibrating in his pocket. Robby fumbled it out of his pocket and up to his ear as fast as he could without releasing his hold on the handle.

“Hello?”

Robby could have fallen to the floor with relief as a familiar voice filled his ear.

“Sorry I’m late, ran into a bit of trouble. I’m coming in hot now with rig 2215, we’ve got a—”

Robby cut him off, unable to keep the crack out of his voice. “Are you hurt?”

Dana stared up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “That him?”  Robby nodded emphatically, blinking his eyes clear, and Dana murmured a “Thank Christ” under her breath.

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” Jack said, which was not an answer, “but listen, we’ve got a cardiac arrest, lost her for a minute but we’ve got her back right now. Five months pregnant, so page OB.”

The job. The fucking job. Focus, Robinavitch. Robby pushed the lump in his throat as far back as it would go to say, “Fuck, okay, call Shen, I’m on the way and I’ll meet you there.”

“You brought Shen in? Man, I’m not that late.”

Robby bit back a stream of profanity that would make Myrna blush. “I’ll explain later.”

It came out clipped. Angry. Fuck, maybe he was angry. Maybe he wanted to grab Jack by the scrubs and scream in his face just as much as he wanted to hold Jack close and feel his heart beating. Maybe he wanted to shake some fucking sense into him. Maybe he wanted to break down in those arms.

“We’ve already radioed ahead, Shen should have a heads up.” Something in Jack’s tone had changed. It was softer, less steely-eyed military medic Dr Abbot, more the Jack who held Robby close in the dark after a rough shift. “Just thought you might want to know. Anyway, I’ll see you soon, I’ve gotta give Torres here back his phone.”

Robby took a breath and forced out a gentler tone. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

The doors opened behind Dana, and she pulled him out onto the platform with her. That was a relief. If Robby had to wait another ten minutes trapped in that sardine tin, he might’ve started hyperventilating. Without a word, they took off towards the hospital.

 

---

 

Collins was on her way out when Robby charged through the door, Dana trailing behind.

“Did you find him?”

Robby ignored the question. “Rig 2215, cardiac arrest, they here yet?”

“I don’t know, I’m clocked out,” Collins said, “Are you—”

But Robby was already in motion again, spotting Shen across the room and pelting towards him.

“Hey, brother,” Shen said, “What are you doing back? Beck said you had an emergency?”

“Yeah, it—it doesn’t matter. Rig 2215, cardiac arrest—”

“Pulling in now, friend of yours?” Shen asked, pulling on a gown and gloves while he spoke.

“No. Yes. Abbot’s with them.”

Shen glanced at him curiously as they strode towards the ambulance bay. “How’d that happen?”

“That’s what I’m planning to ask Jack.”

As he spoke, two EMTs pushed a gurney through the automatic doors. And there, perched atop it, straddling the cardiac arrest case to administer chest compressions, was a bruised and bloody but very much alive Jack Abbot.

Chapter 3

“We lost pulse,” Abbot called out without looking up from his chest compressions as Shen and Robby descended. “One amp epi in the field, two in the rig. Five months pregnant, history of arrhythmia, taking acebutolol.”

They pulled into trauma 2, a flurry of motion as doctors and nurses prepared for the transfer. Abbot heaved his leg over to climb off the patient, gripping Robby by the shoulders as he dropped off the gurney. He stumbled into Robby with a gasp of pain, cursing.

Shen glanced back at Robby as he started the transfer. “Get him checked out, then go home.”

“Fuck that,” Abbot shot back, “I brought her this far, I’ll—” but as he tried and failed to step towards the table, he cut off with a hiss of pain.

Robby grabbed Jack’s arm and threw it over his shoulder as Shen called, “Sorry, only space for one patient in this trauma room. Robby, you got him?”

“I got him,” Robby growled, dragging Jack out of the room. “Thanks, brother.”

“Her name is Janet!” Abbot yelled as the door closed behind them. “Fuck, I thought we’d gotten her through the worst of it.”

Robby didn’t answer as he bodily heaved Jack into a wheelchair. Robby took a moment to look the man over, leaning in close with his hands on the arms of the chair.

Jack had a shallow gash across the top of his forehead, which had bled down the side of his face. A dark bruise stood out high on his cheek, with what looked like an asphalt scrape over it. Then there was his ankle, which judging from the amount of Jack’s weight Robby had been shouldering, was causing him a significant amount of pain.

But he was alive.

“Just where the fuck have you been?” Dana had rejoined the fray, now standing at Robby’s side. Collins lurked behind her, apparently prioritizing this reunion over her hard-earned off hours.

“Dana! You’re back with us, huh, just couldn’t stay away?” Jack flashed her a smirk that died as soon as Dana took a step towards him with the fire of a thousand suns blazing in her eyes.

Robby threw an arm out, placing himself between Dana’s fury and the man he was currently filing under ‘uncooperative patient’ in his head. It was easier that way. He’d figure out the complex tangle of feelings hiding underneath later on.

“I’m going to get him cleaned up. You can both head out, I’ve got it from here.”

Dana opened her mouth to argue, but Collins placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll give you a lift?”

Dana certainly didn’t look happy about it, but she gave Robby a steely stare. “Call me later.” He nodded, and Dana stepped around him to bend down and give Jack a tight hug. Jack, for his part, looked extremely confused.

Robby was just close enough to hear Dana’s threatening whisper. “You ever pull that shit again, you’re dead meat. Capiche?”

Jack was stunned into silence, which Dana seemed to take as agreement. She patted his undamaged cheek before turning away.

Collins just smiled. “Welcome back, Dr Abbot.”

Jack turned to Robby when Collins and Dana walked away. “The fuck is going on in here today?”

Robby didn’t answer immediately, taking the handles of Jack’s wheelchair and steering him into the nearest open exam room.  He snapped the curtain shut.

“What exactly happened to you?” Robby asked as he pulled up a stool and started tracking a pen light across one of Jack’s eyes, then the other. Equal and reactive.

“Car wouldn’t start. Didn’t want to deal with it today, so I decided to take the blue line.”

Robby’s breath caught at the mention of the blue line, but he shook it off quickly, pressing his thumb along Jack’s cheekbone. Intact. “And then you got mugged?”

“Yup. Fucker took my phone and wallet, then left me with zero functioning ankles.”

“It broken?” Robby asked, reaching for the ankle in question and resting Jack’s leg across his knees. Jack let himself be manhandled.

“Nah, I don’t think so. He just pushed me into the street, twisted it falling off the curb.”

Robby’s stomach clenched. “Into traffic?”

“Bike lane. I’m fine. Sore, but fine.”

Robby struggled to keep his face under control. He was aware of Jack watching his expression closely. Robby stripped off Jack’s shoe and sock to take a look at the ankle. It was bruising an ugly purple color, but when Robby rotated it gently, Jack only gave a small grimace. Probably just a sprain, then.

“You hit your head?”

“Not really. Looks worse than it is. Speaking of, you look like shit.”

Robby hummed noncommittally. He returned Jack’s foot to him. “I’m going to go grab some stuff to clean out that scratch of yours, give you a couple stitches.”

“Robby—”

“I’ll be back in a second.” Robby fought his way out of the curtain as his breathing started to come in gasps.

Fuck.

Robby made his way to the supply shelf, trying to remember how to walk like a man who wasn’t drowning. Jack was alive. Jack was alive, and Jack was here, safe. There was no reason his heart needed to be pounding like this. No reason Robby’s hands needed to shake.

Breathe.  

He pressed his forehead to the cool metal of the shelf, letting the noise of the ER wash over him.

Jack was alive. Nothing else mattered.

Robby returned to where he’d left Jack. Jack was now regarding him with apprehension, clearly running a catalogue of all the parts of Robby that were off-balance.

“Hey,” Jack said, tentatively.

Robby reclaimed the stool, dragging over a sterile tray with his foot to offload his gathered supplies. Disinfectant. Local anesthetic. Suture floss. Ice pack. He tossed the latter in Jack’s lap. Jack applied it to his ankle without complaint.

“Hey, man,” Jack tried again. “Did I do something, or…”

“No,” Robby choked out. “No, you did nothing wrong, but fuck you anyway.”

Jack flinched, ever so slightly. It wouldn't have been noticeable if Robby wasn't this close, in all senses of the word. Robby should probably feel guilty about it, but right now there was a rage flowing through his veins that he couldn’t quite keep in check.

Just a patient. Treat the patient.

He started cleaning the gash on Jack’s head.

“You couldn’t have called me?” It was a reach, and Robby knew it. None of this was predictable. None of this was Jack’s fault.

“I tried,” Jack snapped back. “Tried a few times on some passerby’s phone. But someone didn’t fucking pick up, and I don’t have anyone else’s number memorized.”

The calls. The unknown number that had been calling, before Robby even knew to worry. The ones he’d forgotten about because he thought Jack was lying in a morgue somewhere and nothing else mattered. Robby injected the anesthetic with a bit more force than was necessary, but Jack didn’t flinch.

“What, a guy can’t be an hour late without everyone freaking out? I couldn’t walk very far without a working ankle, Robby, can’t exactly hop along on this thing.” He gestured at his prosthetic. “So I was trapped out on the street, no wallet for a cab, and the closest train station had a mountain of fucking stairs on it, no elevator. I tried, don't get me wrong, but had to give up on that idea pretty quick. I couldn’t fucking get anywhere, so tell me what the fuck you expected me to do about it!”

Robby lowered his hands from Jack’s forehead as his chest collapsed inward.

Breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Robby whispered. He was. It sounded horrible, waiting for hours upon hours for help to come. Help not coming, because Robby was too busy to pick up the damn phone.

When Robby looked back up, Jack’s eyes were boring into him with a desperate intensity. “Then hours later that woman, Janet, sat down on the bench next to me and…well. She obviously wasn’t doing great. She didn’t believe me, at first, that I was a doctor, because look at me. But I explained the mugging and eventually she let me help. Classic MI. Called the ambulance on her phone, you know the rest. Will she make it, do you think?”

“Shen will do everything he can,” Robby answered. It was all the comfort he could give. His chest was aching, now, but at least his hands were steady when he reached up to begin sewing up Jack’s gash.

Jack was still watching him, searchingly. “You gonna fucking tell me what’s wrong?”

“In a minute, let me focus. Unless you want to look like Frankenstein.” It was a cheap delay tactic, but Robby couldn’t make the words.

“That’d make you Frankenstein, actually. Ol’ Vicky is the doctor, not the monster.”

Robby’s breath caught again. “You’re not the monster, Jack.”

Robby tied off the stitches with a quick motion, muscle memory strong even with the pressure building in his throat.

Jack caught Robby’s hand in his own, as Robby lowered it from Jack’s temple. “Talk to me. What happened today?”

Robby swallowed around the lump in his throat, as Jack ran a thumb over Robby’s gloved knuckles. How was it that was Jack the one injured, the one who’d been trapped out on the street with a sprained ankle and blood in his eyes, and yet he was still trying to fix Robby? It was twisted, it was unfair, it was just fucking like Jack Abbot.

“These two cops came in.” Robby’s voice came out shaky and quiet, as if saying it too loud would alert the fates to a terrific mix-up, and they’d whisk Jack back away from him. “Apparently, the guy who mugged you fell on the tracks not long after leaving you.”

Jack snorted. “Karma’s a fucking bitch.”

Robby’s entire chest shuddered, and Jack’s smirk dropped away just as fast. “All he had on him was your wallet. He was roughly your age, and his face was…you never told me I was your emergency contact.”

Jack’s face paled as the full implications of Robby’s words hit him. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

“They brought me in to identify the body. He…he had your hair, Jack. Oh fuck, he had your hair.” Robby’s chest stuttered again, the memory of that terrible moment in the morgue hitting like the shock from an AED. A hot tear forced its way out of one eye.

“It wasn’t me. I’m here, brother.”

“Next time you call the fucking ambulance for yourself,” Robby choked out, “In an emergency where a disabled man is injured and alone, you call a fucking ambulance!”

“For a spr—”

“Yes, for a sprain! I don’t give a fuck, you call the ambulance, you hear me? You don’t tough it out on your own because you’re not fucking alone. You don’t let me think you’re out there somewhere—” Robby’s voice finally gave out

“Hey. Hey, I’m here, yeah? Feel.” Jack brought Robby’s fingers to the radial pulse site on his wrist. It helped, but not enough. Robby surged closer, pressing his fingers under Jack’s chin. The carotid pulse beat a strong, familiar rhythm.

“Fuck, Jack. I really thought you’d done it.”

The statement hung heavy in the air. The sound of two pairs of lungs breathing seemed impossibly loud, drowning out the noise from the ER outside. Jack’s eyes watched him. Wide, and dark, and understanding.

Of course he understood. That was how it worked. That was how they pulled each other back from the edge.

Jack dropped his eyes to Robby’s collarbone. Then he took a sharp breath, gathering the strength to lift them both out of the darkness.

“Let me guess.” Robby could feel the deep vibrations of Jack’s voice as he kept his hand against Jack’s throat. “You didn’t think to ask whether the body had two feet?”

Robby pressed his eyes closed and breathed a laugh despite himself. It brought two more tears with it, which he brushed away from his free hand. “Thank God for Dana, she’s the one who thought to check.”

With his eyes still closed, Robby felt a large hand wrap around the back of his neck before Jack pressed their foreheads together. Jack’s pulse continued to beat, steady and strong, against Robby’s fingers.

“Robby. Look at me.”

Robby forced his eyes open, Jack’s face a blur before him.

“We’re okay. We’re still kicking, right?”

Robby nodded tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere. Even if my emergency contact is a dumb fuck who forgot I only have one foot.”

Robby’s face twisted into something not quite a smile. “Fuck you, man.”

“Come on. Let’s abandon poor Shen to deal with this mess and go the fuck home. I haven’t slept in 26 hours.”

“I’m sorry,” Robby said again, “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone.”

“Hey, you were busy. That’s just life in the Pitt, nothing we can do about it. I know you woulda been there in a heartbeat, but life’s a fucking bitch sometimes, huh? It happens, not your fault. And for the record, I’m sorry that in a roundabout way I let you think I was dead for a bit. Won’t happen again, I promise. Now, please,” Jack dipped his chin down, chasing Robby’s eye contact, “Please can we go home?”

Robby took a deep breath and finally found the strength to pull his hand away from Jack’s throat. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

 

---

 

Loading Jack into Robby’s car went better than expected. He could balance on one leg well enough, moving was the only issue, so Robby brought him up to the car in the wheelchair and Jack completed the transfer using his upper body strength.

They drove in silence, Jack falling in and out of sleep as his exhaustion caught up to him. When they pulled up to Jack’s apartment, Robby left him dozing in the passenger seat while he ran upstairs to grab Jack’s old forearm crutches.

Jack blinked blearily at him when Robby opened the Prius door, crutches in tow. He took Robby’s hand to help him to his feet, then accepted the offered crutches without comment. They made their way quietly up to Jack’s apartment.

Jack disappeared into the shower. Robby washed the dishes he’d left in the sink, then changed into a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants he’d left last time he slept over. Robby was unsurprised to find them neatly folded and tucked away. Anything he left in Jack’s space would end up tidied away by the time he returned. Jack never seemed to mind, but the tidiness was habitual.

Then Robby collapsed on Jack’s bed like his strings had been cut. He didn’t climb under the covers. He was fairly certain sleep wouldn’t come easily, but he didn’t want to take that chance. He wanted to be awake when Jack returned.

When Jack did return, he had an icepack tucked into the pocket of his sweats while he maneuvered in with the crutches. He must have reattached the prosthetic fresh out of the shower, from the relative stability of his shower stool. Wearing it damp had to be an interesting sensation. Jack tossed the ice pack on the bed before sitting to strip off his prosthetic back off with a grunt of relief. 26 hours—27 now, Robby supposed—was too damn long to wear it.

While Jack massaged some feeling back into his calf, Robby finally let himself crawl under the covers. Jack tossed a pillow down to the end of the bed to elevate his ankle. Then he let out a quiet “Fuck,” half groan, half laugh as he finally laid down.

“Better?” Robby asked.

“Be better after I sleep for about a thousand years.”

Robby watched Jack carefully, trying to find the words, or perhaps trying to talk himself out of saying them.

Before he could speak, Robby’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed at it, slipping on the glasses he’d deposited beside it. A message from Shen.

Tell him they’re both stable – Janet and fetus.

Robby felt his face soften into an absent smile as he reacted with a thumbs-up to the message.

“That your other girlfriend?” Jack asked.

“You know it,” Robby volleyed back, removing his glasses again and setting them aside. “You don’t mind if I run off to make sweet love to her?”

“Uh huh, just as long as she knows who the main squeeze is around here.”

Robby huffed a laugh. “It’s Shen. He wants you to know Janet and the fetus are both stable.”

Jack let out a long breath and dropped his head back onto the pillow.

“You did it. You saved her,” Robby said, softly.

“Day of miracles, huh? First I rise from the dead, then I bring Janet with me.”

Robby gave him a light smack on the shoulder. “Too soon.”

“Sorry,” Jack said with a chuckle.

Robby rolled his head to watch Jack’s profile. The other man’s eyes were dropping closed. “Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I…” Jack turned to look at Robby. Robby felt a tight heat rising behind his eyes and begged himself not to cry again. The words came out thick through the lump in his throat. “Can I hold onto you?”

Jack regarded him gently. Then he kicked the pillow away from his foot so he could turn on his side, drawing Robby’s arm around him. With Robby wrapped around his back, their knees slotted together, Jack pressed Robby’s hand to his chest.

Through the soft texture of Jack’s thin t-shirt, Robby could feel the slow thud of a heart against his palm. A shuddering sob wracked through Robby’s body. He pressed his face into the damp curls at the base of Jack’s skull, and finally let himself break completely, crying quietly, his hitching chest vibrating through both of them.

“I’m right here,” Jack murmured, squeezing Robby’s wrist. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, the sobs came fewer and farther between. Jack’s heartbeat kept a steady rhythm as his breathing deepened. Robby clung onto the warm, solid body before him.

Robby was half convinced he had fallen asleep when Jack said, “Hey, you mind if I make you my emergency contact?”

Robby made an ugly snort, thick with snot. “Imagine if I said no.”

“You can.”

The seriousness of the offer gave Robby pause.

“If you want,” Jack continued, “I still got some family left, don’t see them often but…if you don’t want it to be you, especially after today…I get it.”

Did Robby want that, after today? Robby pictured how nice it might have been, to have lived the day without concern, until the hour after Jack was supposed to arrive. To only be mildly worried for that brief hour. To never have seen that body that looked just enough like Jack Abbot.

But then…how would he have found out? If Jack was hurt, or god forbid dead, how long would it take for them to call Robby? Would he find out from Gloria, hours or days later, telling him that she was hiring a replacement and to take Jack off the schedule? Would he be there if Jack was taken to a different ER, hurt and alone, waiting on some family member who might or might not show up? Would they tell Robby in time?

A shudder ran through him.

No, if Wilson and Anders had to tell someone, Robby was glad to be that someone. If Jack was hurt, Robby wanted—needed—to know. A couple more hours of peace today were not worth the terrible concept of Jack hurt or dying without Robby there.

“Nah,” Robby said, affecting a light tone, “Not worth the paperwork.”

He could practically feel Jack smirking. “Alright then, I’ll leave it. Who’s yours, by the way?”

“Dana, of course.”

“Mmm. Of course.”

“She knows, now.”

“She knows what?”

“About this.”

“Oh.”

Try as he might, Robby couldn’t read the emotion behind that ‘oh.’

“That alright?” Robby asked, knowing there was nothing to be done about it if the answer was negative.

“Of course,” Jack mumbled, “Its Dana, she knows everything.”

Which told Robby absolutely nothing.

“Jack.”

“Hmm?”

“All good?”

Jack shifted slightly to turn and look at Robby over his shoulder. “Yeah, man. Dana’s your family, that makes her my family. Threats of violence to my person notwithstanding.”

Robby relaxed minutely. He wasn’t sure why he’d been tense in the first place. “Ah, bullying is just how she shows her love. I’ll make sure she knows to call you, though, if anything ever does happen,” Robby found himself saying. He’d want that assurance. He hadn’t thought about it before today, but he would need to know that someone would call him, if the worst were to happen. “So it’s good she knows, I suppose. Sorry I didn't ask before I—”

“Robby?” Jack mumbled, rolling back to face away from him.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, man, but please shut the fuck up. Some of us haven’t slept in, like, two days.”

Robby laughed quietly. “Fuck off and go to sleep, then. Serves me for trying to—”

“See, that? Still talking.”

Robby snorted again, nestling further into Jack’s warmth. The steady rhythm of Jack’s heart continued to beat against his hand, strong, and slow, and alive as Jack finally drifted off to sleep.

A long time later, Robby followed him.

Notes:

Shen is the real victim in this, having to work his day off.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed or want to encourage me to continue this series, don't hesitate to drop me a comment! I'm so grateful to all of you who've been giving me encouragement along the way.

Also, apologies for trying to write a medical scene again, I well and truly know by now that is not where my strengths lie.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Just Normal Colleague Things. Spooning on a Tuesday Night.