Chapter Text
Robby wakes up at 2:46 AM by his phone ringing. He frowns. Hadn’t he put it on DND? He checks the caller ID. Frank. Fuck. Frank still bypasses his DND, and he denies the call while moving to Settings to change his bypassable contacts when a text pops through.
Robby, please. It’s really important.
Ice runs through Robby’s veins. Was Frank hurt? Relapsing? Why didn’t he call Shen, weren’t they dating?
Robby swears under his breath and hits the “call back” button. It picks up immediately. “Did you take anything? Are you safe?” He scrolls through his contacts. “Do I to call Shen? I might still have his number.”
“I’m okay.”
“It’s nearly three AM and I’m in Newfoundland. What could you possibly need?”
“It’s Jack.” Frank says, his voice breaking. Robby’s world shatters.
Fuck. Jack. I left him alone, I knew he was in a bad spot, was it one of those stupid SWAT calls, he’s living alone now did he have a medical emergency like a seizure or a heart attack is he alive is he okay is he hurt is he conscious is he going to die was it the leg was it a gunshot did a patient attack him did he attempt shit was there nobody to talk him off the roof I left him alone he needed me and I left him.
Thisisallmyfaulthe’sgonnadieandit’llbeallmyfaultIcan’tlosehimtooshit-
“Is he okay? Did he attempt? Get shot, stabbed? Forget to eat for a week? Seizure?” Robby’s panic felt like it was suffocating, bleeding into the room, killing everything and everyone he killed everything and everyone he killed Monty he killed Jack-
Frank hesitates. He says something about surgery, but Robby isn’t listening. He yells, begs, at some point the call ends, he’s booking tickets and grabbing his stuff and running out the door and speeding to the airport and he’s on a plane and it’s been hours and he’s not fast enough and he’s not gonna get there and Jack’s gonna die-no. Jack can’t die. Won’t die. Robby won’t let him.
He hadn’t spoken with Jack in weeks, denying his husband’s calls and ignoring his texts. The occasional photo or good morning as proof of life, but he had been cutting Jack off, blocking him out, pushing him away. Robby listened to Jack’s voicemails, but never acknowledged them. He rode, no helmet. Hoped he might get hit, might disappear. The only thing stopping him from doing it himself was Jack. Knowing Jack would lose another spouse, this time to their own hand. Jack had to believe it was an accident. He hadn’t called Jack. He had stared at his phone and whispered, “it got dark.” But he hadn’t hit the call button, he’d cried and gone to bed.
Now Jack might be gone. Robby knew that the moment he lost Jack, he would lose himself too. If Jack went off the roof, Robby was a step behind. If Jack lost his battle to sepsis? An infection? He didn’t have details. Was it a fever? Did he overwork himself? Robby didn’t know. He was scared, scared he would lose the last person that would hug him every morning, hold him while he cried, kiss him when he needed it, call him Mike and ruffle his hair and love him like nobody else.
Robby hadn’t been scared this way since he heard Dana’s voice say there was a shooter at Pittfest, since he heard Jake’s voicemail and saw him in a truck covered in blood and thought he was dead-which Robby was now. Dead to Jake, anyway, by the ignored messages and Janey’s updates about his life.
But now, Robby is scared for the love of his life. As he leaves the plane and books an uber to the Pitt, he’s scared. As he goes down the stairs and pushes through chairs, looking for Chantanah, he’s scared, but he pauses. It’s Lupe at the desk, it must be day shift already. The clock reads 7:21. Shit. It had been seven hours already.
Robby nods to Lupe, who double takes at seeing him, and scans his badge as he rushes to the Hub. Dana sees him and she looks shocked and confused, too. Lena, however, who is still there, runs over. She looks at Robby and says sternly, “Family Room. Now.” She grabs Dana’s arm and drags her with them, yelling at Bridget to cover. Bridget was still here, too?
“What the fuck is going on? Aren’t you supposed to be in Canada or something?” Dana looks annoyed and confused. Her eyebrows shoot up when they enter the family room to see Henderson, Toomarian, Ellis, Shen, Frank, Santos, Whitaker, Vivi, Mateo, Mel, and even Samira sitting there. Robby blinks.
They all care about Jack. All of them.
Ellis, Toomarian, and Vivi have red, puffy eyes like they’ve been crying. Frank’s clearly been too, and he’s leaning on Shen whose eyes are dead and blank. Mel’s actively crying, quiet tears running down her cheeks as she stares at the floor. Samira is sobbing, sitting in the corner with her head in her hands and occasionally letting out a soft sound, Henderson sitting next to her and patting her back despite looking equally as devastated. Mateo just looks sad. Santos looks upset but more angry, however Whitaker who clings to her looks like someone kicked his puppy. Lena motions for Dana and Robby to sit down.
“Abbot is in the ICU. He’s out of surgery now.” Lena says, and the whole room releases a breath. Except for Dana; she freezes and looks up at Lena.
“Surgery? ICU? What the fuck happened?” Dana looks around sharply. Shen speaks suddenly.
“Abbot had a deep laceration at the bottom of his residual limb. It was infected and had developed sepsis, and we noticed around half an hour after midnight.” Shen’s voice is steady and strong, but no emotion seeps in. He didn’t have his usual unbreakable cheerful jeer. “Walsh and Garcia were the surgeons, but Shamsi just showed up for day shift and so Walsh will be down soon. We don’t know anything else.”
“Which ones of you were working last night?” Dana asks, and Shen, Frank, Ellis, Vivi, Mateo, Mel, and Santos raise their hands. Lena nods.
“You eight need to sleep.” Dana says firmly, her face switched into protective Charge Nurse mode. Ellis and Santos open their mouths to protest, but Dana glares at them. “All of you. On call rooms. We’ll wake you up if there’s news.” They all move, except Santos and Ellis.
“Go.” Whitaker whispers, un-barnacle-ing from Santos. She bites her lip and stands, dragging Ellis with her.
“You too, Handzo.” Dana says. “I’ll handle it. Yeah?” Lena sighs but nods and walks away.
“Langdon called me at three.” Robby whispers, looking up. “He said it was Jack, and I-I got here as fast as I could, it took too long, and I was on that plane for six hours and-”
“Robby.” Dana locks eyes with him. “Jack’ll be okay. Abbot’s tough, yeah? He’s-he’ll pull through. He always does.” Her voice is shaky, but Robby nods and sits down. He is surprised by some of the faces in the room, Samira and Whitaker weren’t even night shifters or working last night. Henderson suddenly speaks, standing up and looking at the doorway. “Langdon is still on the clock, but Shen needs him right now. He’s-they’re down a senior resident, I should go-”
“No.” Robby says, his voice hoarse. “They can manage, you and Samira need to be here. You’re in no state to work.” He looks at Dana. “Al-Hashimi working today?”
“Yeah. McKay, Kwon, and Javadi are out there right now. The four of them are supposed to be too, but I thought they were just late." She pauses.
“I can work.” Whitaker stands up and nods at Dana. “I got this. And Trin is probably back working, she knows we’re short-staffed and she’s not as close with Doctor Abbot.”
Dana looks at him and nods approvingly. “Okay. I’ll call in Ogilvie and you and McKay can figure it out. Let me know what you need. Kiara is available if you need to talk, and maybe Dylan. I don’t think they’ve left. Try to get Santos to sleep for half an hour if you can, but we need her.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Whitaker says. Robby barely hears it, isn’t registering anything until his name is said from the other side of the room. Samira has stopped bawling and is now looking at him warily.
“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were in Canada.” She narrows her eyes. “You’re an asshole to everyone, you never contact any of us, you leave us all scared about you, and now your best friend is in critical condition and we just let you back in the door?”
Robby flinches violently and bites his lip. Dana opens her mouth, but Robby cuts her off. “I’m sorry. And he’s my husband.” Robby admits, pulling his chain out from under his shirt and gripping his Magen David, the points digging into his skin, but his wedding ring visible over his fist. Samira looks surprised, by his apology or his marriage he doesn’t know. “I will always, always come home for Jack. No matter where I am. If he needs me, I’m there.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, so when he sat on the edge of the roof every morning you were ‘there for him’? When he lost a woman he said looked exactly like his wife, you were ‘there for him’? When he somehow got a cut on the bottom of his fucking leg and got fucking sepsis-”
“I don’t know!” Robby snaps, looking pointedly at the wall. “I couldn’t be. I wasn’t here. I know. I know I wasn’t here, I know I couldn’t do anything, I know-” Robby sobs suddenly, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “I wasn’t here. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t-I don’t-I can’t-” He buries his head in his hands, and Toomarian looks up at him.
“It’s okay.” She whispers, making eye contact. “None of us were there when this happened, and we-we just need to stay until Doctor Abbot gets better.”
The five of them are silent then. The ED hums and buzzes outside the door, and Robby looks up at the ceiling, where somewhere his husband lies in an ICU bed that can’t have visitors yet.