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Christos gets a lot of hospital staff at his diner. He's open twenty-four hours a day and only a couple of minutes' walk away, making it the perfect spot to spend a fifteen-minute break or get a hit of proper coffee. (Christos has been reliably informed that the coffee in the breakrooms is shit, and he prides himself on providing the good stuff)
Out of all the many doctors, nurses, and other staff who frequent his diner. He has a favourite. Dr Michael Robinavitch.
Dr Robby, that's what he told Christos to call him.
Dr Robby is some kind of senior doctor in the ER, so he doesn't come in as much as Christos would like. He thinks Dr. Robby uses his diner as a bit of an escape, choosing a table in the corner or at the far end of the bar, nursing a black coffee whilst checking his watch.
Christos tries not to hover when Dr Robby appears, but sometimes he just can't help it. He swears, no matter what time of day it is, Dr Robby always looks tired. The weight of the world seems to have taken root on his shoulders.
Despite always looking weary, he always greets Christos with a warm smile, is always polite to his waitresses, tips them well, and never complains when Christos is a little slow to refill his mug.
Dr Robby is not young like some of the baby lambs that step through his doors for the first time. Christos doesn't ever remember being that wide-eyed and young. That doesn't stop Christos from trying to look after the man. There's something about Dr Robby that brings out the father in him. He worries that there's no one else in the world looking after Dr Robby
That's why whenever Dr Robby is looking particularly tired, or he trudges in late in the day, Christos always puts a bowl of chicken soup or Spanakopita down in front of him, even if he hasn't ordered any food. Dr. Robby always protests. Christos ignores it.
"Eat," He says, firmly enough to know there's not a single argument that will sway Christos' mind. He's a stubborn son of a bitch. His wife always tells him as much.
"This is too much," Dr Robby tries to push the plate away.
"When you are done, I will bring you a slice of my famous chocolate baklava," He says, not listening to further protests as he walks back into the kitchen.
Of course, five minutes later, he peeks through the window in the door and sees Dr Robby wolfing down the food. Christos always knows best.
Christos can count on one hand the number of times, since Dr Robby first entered his diner, that he brought someone else. One or twice, he dined with a woman, Black and strikingly beautiful. Another two or three times, he came with a short blonde woman, always in scrubs, hair pulled back with a clip. Dr Robby didn't reach across the table for her hand like he did the other lady. He sees a lot of his own wife in her, too. Sharp and tough and in charge.
And then one day, he steps through the door with a new face. Christos knows he's new because of how long it takes him to read the menu. The regulars all know what's good.
The man is around the same age as Dr Robby. Shorter and more defined than Dr Robby's physique. There's a shrewdness to him, too, like he's seen a lot more of the worst the world has to offer. The longer Christos looks, the more he notices the man's tense shoulders and the way he looks around, like he's on high alert.
As Christos stands there, pencil poised against paper, waiting for the man to choose what he'd like to eat, he can't hold back his curiosity any longer.
"Dr Robby, who is your friend?"
"Oh, Christos, I'd like you to meet a new colleague of mine, just joined us in the ER, this is Dr Jack Abbot. Abbot, this is Christos; he owns the place."
Dr Abbot gives him a tight but genuine smile and holds out his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Their eyes meet as Christos takes Dr Abbot's hand. There's a sadness in them that he recognises so clearly. Grief has a very distinctive presence when you know what to look for.
He decides in that moment that Dr Abbot needs looking after too, and practically snatches the menu out of his grip.
"I will bring you two plates of my Moussaka, and you will eat it all, or I will be very offended."
As he walks away to plate up two extra-large portions, he listens to their conversation.
"He does this a lot, just brings you food, it's uh, nice…reminds me of my Grandma a little."
"I can see why you come here," Dr Abbot replies.
Dr Robby still comes in alone, nursing his coffee and eating whatever Christos puts down in front of him after the usual protestations, but now Dr Abbot joins him sometimes, too. They'll talk over a plate of fries or sit quietly looking out the window as their drinks slowly cool.
His nightshift staff tells him that Dr Abbot often appears around midnight, so Christos assumes that's mostly when he works.
He likes the effect Dr Abbot has on Dr Robby. He seems more settled in himself when Dr Abbot is around, more alive. Dr Abbot is the only person who's been able to make Dr Robby laugh. Christos nearly dropped a tray of milkshakes the first time he heard it.
Covid happens.
Christos fights tooth and nail to keep his diner open. He has to let staff go who have been with him for years. He has to get to grips with online orders and a room full of empty seats whilst he passes food in to-go containers to his regulars outside.
He doesn't see Dr. Robby at all for what feels like forever. He worries a lot about the man. He can only imagine what is happening down the road. He thanks his lucky stars that his one bout of the illness passes through him with little fanfare. His neighbour wasn't so lucky.
Whenever he can, he boxes up sandwiches and slices of cake and has one of the kids who washes dishes deliver them over to the ER. At the beginning, the boy returns with a hastily written thank you note from a Dr Adamson, then, at some point, the thank you notes start coming from Dr Robby.
He doesn't know what that means exactly, but he's glad he can help in any way.
The first time he sees Dr. Robby after the worst of the pandemic is over, he steps out of the kitchen to find him at the counter, a mug of coffee already in front of him. He looks different. Not completely broken, but fractured in a way that hurts Christos' heart.
"Food?" He offers softly.
"Not today, I...I don't have long."
Dr Robby sits silently, drinking his coffee and tuning out the world around him. When he turns to leave, Christos goes to clean up and finds a wad of bills underneath the saucer.
"What is this?"
Dr Robby turns, offers a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "A tip, a thank you for all the sandwiches."
He shakes his head, "I cannot accept."
All the bills were hundreds; there was a thousand dollars in his hand, possibly more.
"Please," Dr Robby insists. "I was promoted recently, came with a pay bump," He explains, his voice breaking slightly as he speaks, "This is how I want to spend it."
Dr Robby slips out the door before Christos can argue.
Christos is a careless idiot. Only he can be blamed for the three-inch cut on his forearm. He was rushing around, ignoring his wife's voice in his head telling him to slow down.
"You get clumsy when you rush, you know this," He hears her say.
She's right, of course, like always.
He's in the store room when he trips on a crate of tinned peaches, his arm catching on a loose nail as he tries to steady himself. It just bleeds and bleeds.
Maria called in sick a few hours ago, and no one is available to cover, so there's no time to sort it. He wraps up the wound tightly in a bandage and carries on with the job at hand.
His arm throbs every time he picks up a tray or raises it up to get something from one of the top shelves. He daren't look at it properly, knowing he's probably bled through the dressings.
He's thankful it's not too busy. Especially when a wave of lightheadedness hits him. Unfortunately, he's carrying a cup of coffee over to Dr Abbot when it hits, and the entire mug of scalding hot liquid lands on the man's outstretched leg.
"Oh!" Christos' heart rate spikes. He curses in Greek. "I am so very sorry! I should have been more careful!"
"It's alright," Dr Abbot is quick to assuage him. "It doesn't hurt."
Christos looks down, sees the way the soaked pant leg forms to the shape underneath. Dr Abbot tugs at the material slightly, and Christos lays eyes on metal, not burnt skin.
"Oh," Christos doesn't know what else to say.
"Are you alright?" Dr Abbot turns it around on him. "You look a little unsteady."
"It's nothing, really, I am okay," Christos insists, but Dr Abbot is not so easily distracted. His eyes scan Christos, and it's not long before they land on his arm. His sleeve is down, but it's begun to turn red.
"What have you done to your arm?"
"Just a scratch."
Dr Abbot doesn't believe him.
"Sit, let me take a look."
Christos is reluctant, but there's a stubborn look in Dr Abbot's eyes. He won't let it go.
Christos sinks into the nearby seat and puts his arm down on the table between them. He hisses under his breath as Dr Abbot pushes his sleeve up his arm and peels back the layers of bandages to see what the damage is.
"Shit, Christos, this is going to need stitches," Dr Abbot informs him. "You able to get yourself down to the ER?"
"But I am short-staffed, I cannot afford to sit in your waiting room for hours."
Dr Abbot sighs, "Alright, I have an idea." He pulls out his phone and begins to type out a message. "What did you cut your arm on?" When Christos tells him, Dr Abbot shakes his head. "Yeah, you're gonna need a tetanus shot too."
Christos isn't sure what's happening, but he guides Dr Abbot to the back room, determined not to upset his customers from the sight of his blood. Fifteen minutes later, Dr Robby pushes his way into the backroom.
"You get everything?" Dr Abbot asks.
"Yup, no one will notice, perks of being the boss."
Dr Robby slides a rucksack off his shoulder, and, a moment later, he's pulling out various bits of medical equipment, placing them all on the table.
"What is all this?" He asks.
"Suture kit," Dr Robby answers him as he pulls out a pair of latex gloves and immediately puts them on.
"Jack, I'm gonna need more light," He then says to Dr Abbot.
"There is a desk lamp in my office," Christos tells them, nodding to the door behind them. "Will that do?"
Dr Abbot grins, "Perfect," he says and disappears off to retrieve it.
Whilst he's gone, Dr Robby carefully cleans the wound with a bottle of liquid. "Looks like a clean cut, not too deep, should only need ten or so stitches."
Christos isn't used to this much care and attention on him, certainly not at work, where he's the one caring for everyone else. He imagines his wife hovering over them, fretting, and he's glad she's not here to see this.
Dr Abbot returns with the lamp and sets it up beside them.
"Much better," Dr Robby says, "Thanks."
"Alright," Christos watches as Dr Robby fills a needle with a clear liquid "I'm going to numb the area, you're going to feel a sharp sting, and we’ll let that sit for a minute."
"Technically, you're off the clock now," Dr Abbot says from his spot, leaning against a storage cupboard. "Shouldn't I be doing this?"
Dr Robby grins, a little cocky, "Yeah, but I'm the boss."
Dr Abbot groans, and Christos feels like he's missing out on half the story. It's been a few years now since Dr Robby first introduced him to Dr Abbot, and it's nice to see their friendship up close. They move around each other without needing words. Dr Abbot catches Dr Robby's eye, and Christos feels like an entire conversation happens between them.
Dr Robby checks if he can feel anything after a few minutes, and when Christos shakes his head, he begins the job of stitching up the wound. Dr Robby's hands are sure and steady as he loops and ties each stitch. The sign of someone who's been stitching up wounds for decades.
After the wound is covered up, Dr Abbot hands Dr Robby another needle and a small glass container.
"Tetanus", Dr Robby explains as he expertly extracts some of the liquid from the container and injects it into Christos' arm.
"All done."
"I do not know how to thank you both."
"You can thank us by keeping the wound clean and coming over to the hospital in ten days to get the stitches removed," Dr Robby answers, "I'll give you my number, message me when you're on your way, and I'll get you seen straight away."
When they leave, Christos returns to his diner like nothing happened, but he's determined not to let them pay for a single item going forward.
It's late when he next sees the pair of doctors. He perks up at the sight of them walking through the door, the bell above them ringing to signal their arrival.
"Come, come, sit," he guides them to an empty booth, not bothering to put down menus for them. The food on offer hasn't changed in over a decade.
Dr Abbot orders first, black coffee, toast, and scrambled eggs, then Dr Robby orders, though he barely gets any words out before a large yawn cuts him off.
"Sorry," He apologises and finishes his order.
"He just pulled a double," Dr Abbot explains. "I'll be surprised if he can stay awake long enough to eat breakfast."
Dr Robby frowns, "Hey!"
"Ten bucks says you'll be asleep before your hashbrowns come out."
Dr Robby yawns again, "I'll take that bet."
"Don't bring him coffee, alright?" Dr Abbot requests, ignoring Dr Robby's protests. "Someone needs to make sure he actually gets some rest"
"I'll bring him some of my special mint tea," Christos decides. "My wife's recipe."
"Perfect."
Christos hurries away to get the tea prepared and to pass on their breakfast order to the cooks in the kitchen.
When Christos returns with their drinks, Dr Robby has his head leaning on one hand, his eyelids dropping. He barely acknowledges the steaming mug of mint tea placed down in front of him.
Dr Abbot meets his eyes and raises an eyebrow as if to say, "See?"
Christos just shakes his head.
He goes back into the kitchen to retrieve the orders a few minutes later, and this time, when he brings the plate over, Dr Robby's whole body is pressed against Dr Abbot's, his head resting on his shoulder. He is fast asleep.
"You mind us hanging out here for a little while?" Dr Abbot asks quietly.
"Stay as long as you like," Christos insists.
He looks over to check on his two favourites when he has a free moment. Dr Abbot eats his breakfast slowly, using his left hand to stab at the chunks of scrambled eggs with his fork. Every now and again, he reaches over and steals some of Dr Robby's abandoned breakfast.
It's not often Christos works the night shift these days. He's too old to be staying up all night, and he misses talking to his regular customers. Although, he does enjoy getting to meet the nighttime regulars. There's a whole other bunch of unusual characters that appear when it gets dark.
He likes the early morning too, when he gets to see the entire world wake up, say good morning to the first bleary-eyed customers starting their days. He likes to put down a plate, piled high with bacon and eggs and pancakes and see them come to life in front of his eyes.
Except, it doesn't seem to be working on Dr Abbot, who is sitting at his counter, pushing half-congealed egg around his plate and staring out the window like the answers to his problems might just walk past.
Christos can't stand it any longer and goes to him.
"You look troubled."
"I guess I am."
"Can I?" Christos motions to the empty seat next to him, and Dr Abbot nods. Christos settles down into the seat before he speaks.
"Tell me, I have good ear, or so people tell me."
Dr Abbot doesn't talk right away, but Christos is patient. He watches and waits.
"We had a rough shift a few weeks ago… did you see that shooting on the news?" Christos nods, "Over a hundred injured came our way. It was, uh, a lot, even for me," Dr Abbot says, his voice low in the quiet diner. "Robby took it all too hard, lost a patient he worked really hard to save, and from what I heard, he was having a pretty shit day to begin with."
"You don't know how to help him," Christos guesses.
"No, I don't," he sighs. "He acts like he's fine, doesn't want to talk about it, but I know it's weighing on him more than he'd like to admit."
"You know what my wife would say? She would say friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness."
Dr Abbot smiles, "She sounds like a smart lady. Where is she?"
Christos's own smile fades, "Allegheny Cemetery," He reveals somberly, "Plot twenty-four-eighty-six."
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are, I see it in your eyes too, the same loss."
Dr Abbot nods, but reveals no details.
"Her family wanted me to take her home, bury her back on Chios, but I could not bear to let her go...I visit her every Sunday, bring her fresh flowers. I tell her all about my customers, I know she is listening."
"I'm sure she is."
"I tell her about you and Dr Robby, you know, the two men who often sit alone and look like the world has beaten them down, but when they are together, look like nothing can hurt them."
"What are you telling me, Christos?"
"You," Christos prods Dr Abbot with his finger, "You help him by being near him, by not letting him push you away. Being there for when he's ready to talk."
"He helps me too, you know, in little ways I don't even think he realises."
"That is a true partnership."
Dr Abbot looks less troubled, and Christos is glad he could play a small part in that.
"What are you waiting for, Dr Abbot?" Christos motions towards the door.
Dr Abbot laughs, "I'm going, I'm going," His chair screeches against the linoleum as he pushes it back. As usual, he tries to pay, but Christos just waves him off.
"Hey Christos, tell your wife I said hi, okay?"
Christos smiles back gratefully, his hand going to his heart. He looks forward to updating her in a few days' time.
Christos loves the rain. He loves the smell in the air and the sound it makes against the windows. He especially loves how much extra business he gets as everyone uses his diner as shelter.
He rushes around from table to table, refilling coffee mugs and placing down huge plates of hot food and ice-cream sundaes. There's a hum in the diner from all the conversations happening at once. It's a sound he's come to love more than anything.
He's so busy, he doesn't notice the pair at first, sitting at a corner table. He wishes he had time to go over and say hello, but there are plates of food piling up in the kitchen that need to be brought out. The bell in the kitchen rings again.
"I'm coming!" He calls as he rushes over.
As he goes, he hears Dr Robby laugh, and he almost does a double-take. It's a rare sound to hear.
Dr Abbot is shaking his head in amusement. Dr Robby's whole head is thrown back as he laughs out loud. Dr Robby looks happy. Happier than Christos has seen him in a long time.
When he passes by again, they're sharing a plate of fries, a dollop of ketchup to one side that Dr Robby dips all his fries into before popping them into his mouth. He doesn't want to interrupt their conversation, so he carries on. They sit there for a good hour, in no immediate rush to get back to the hospital. Dr Abbot orders a slice of orange cake, and they share that too.
Afterwards, as the rain begins to lighten, they slip away quietly, manoeuvring through the maze of tables deftly.
Christos is at the cash register as they leave. The windows have steamed up at some point, too many breathing out warm air inside, but someone at the window has wiped their hands across the condensation and through the gap, Christos watches as Dr Abbot opens up an umbrella and then immediately hooks his arm around Dr Robby's waist to pull him under it.
Dr Robby rolls his eyes, says something Christos can't hear, and then ducks down to kiss Dr Abbot.
Christos grins.
He can't wait to tell his wife about this.