Chapter Text
[July 11, 6:30 a.m., Pittsburgh]
Dr. Jack Abbot is gathering his things from his locker; more exhausted than he used to be at those hours.
Robby’s absence doesn’t just weigh on the entire ER; he has also missed him more than he could have ever imagined.
At five-thirty in the morning, he always thought about how there wasn't much left until he arrived—waiting an hour and a half after more than 12 is no big deal. Knowing he would soon be with him to have his back, right when he needed it most, used to cheer him up quite a bit.
And when he saw him appear through the door, or heard his voice behind him on the rooftop, it felt as if air was being returned to his lungs.
He changed into the military clothes he had arrived in. Before he could finish putting on his shoes, Whitaker appears down the hallway running toward him.
He catches his breath before speaking.
"Dr. Abbot, I ne-need you to do me a favor".
"Go ahead" Abbot simply looked at him, accustomed to having to help everyone as much as possible.
"It's just that, as you know... Dr. Robby left me in charge of his house before leaving. And I haven't been able to stop by yet because between the shift, Amy... The point is that a week has already passed since he left and I should have gone. You're the one Robby trusts most and, well, if you could go this weekend... I’d really appreciate it".
Whitaker had that sad, hangdog look that is very hard to say no to.
"It's fine." He had already been to his house before, and he had no problem stopping by; it was on his way.
In those seven days, Robby had only sent him a brief message: "All good." This way, he would have another excuse to call him. He had left him very worried. And he hates being so. Especially when it comes to Michael Robinavitch.
He felt like he had left him in the hands of death. Maybe he should have strapped him to the hospital stretcher. He should have insisted more. Hugged him tighter.
That’s what he thought while Whitaker gave him some instructions and handed him the keys accompanied by a "thank you so much, I owe you one."
The head of the ED didn't take long to reach the apartment. The whole time, he thought about a patient he had left there before leaving; she will probably lose her leg above the knee.
By the time he realized it, the door was already in front of him. He inserted the key carefully and opened it.
Robby’s scent hit his nose; he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Enjoying the calm away from the hospital.
The house was silent, or should have been considering it was empty; there were only a few faint noises, but when he turned the corner of the entrance, he was startled.
It wasn't that it was upside down as if it had been robbed, but it definitely wasn't the neatness that Robinavitch was expected to leave. No, the mess was impossible.
He went on alert and walked quickly but with extreme care.
His muscles were tense, prepared for any intervention.
Then he saw it.
He froze.
His expression dropped.
And he whispered, unable to look away:
"Robby, what have you done."