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Jack Abbot was a fount of wisdom. There was simply no denying that (though some misguided fools may occasionally attempt to). He was also a born helper. So whenever he came across somebody who could benefit from the knowledge that he’d gathered throughout his life (and as the result of hundreds of hours of professional intervention), he was more than happy to share.
Who could have predicted that that quality would lead to his (impending) grisly murder?
“It was a really decent price too!” Robby yammered away cheerfully, seemingly unaware of the death-glare that was being leveled at the both of them by his charge nurse. “Some superficial scrapes. The guy said that it got dropped once or twice - but that’s pretty normal apparently. And he seemed to think that it was easy enough to fix. And look - he even gave me this for free.”
Jack forced a smile as he took in the brain bucket that the other man was holding up like some sort of prize.
He could feel Dana cursing him out telepathically.
Still, Robby was practically bouncing on the spot with enthusiasm and, ill-advised purchases/safety gear aside, he certainly didn’t want to dull that.
So he smiled wider, and brightly replied, “Bonus! So you rode in today then?”
“Sure did!” Robby replied. “Like I said, it’s been ages - and, you know, new bike - so I’m still getting used to the handling. But god, you were so right! I feel incredible.”
Fortunately, before he could say anything more that could very well see Jack admitted for immediate trauma care, Robby’s attention was caught by Whitaker and Javadi hovering near by, very obviously waiting for the right moment to attempt to flag him down.
With one last grin, and a friendly bump on the shoulder, he cheerfully announced, “Duty calls. We still good for dinner tonight, right?”
“Of course. See you then.”
“Can’t wait,” Robby happily replied, before practically bounding off to attend to the children.
And then there were two.
Maybe, Jack thought for a fleeting moment, if he didn’t make eye contact - he might get out of this-
“I knew this was you,” Dana fumed. “The second I found out, I knew it had ‘Jack Abbot’ written all over it.”
“I didn’t tell him to get a motorcycle,” Jack argued, holding his hands up as Dana stomped around the desk to really glare at him properly. “He came up with that all on his own.”
“What did you tell him then?” Dana retorted, folding her arms over her chest. “Because I distinctly recall the phrase ‘you were so right’ thrown around just now.”
“I say lots of things,” Jack said evasively. “I can’t be held accountable for what he takes from it-”
“What. did. you. say.”
Jack grimaced, taking a preemptive step back before reluctantly replying, “I might have mentioned something about how micro-dosing mildly risky activities every now and then helps a person appreciate life more?”
He cringed a little at the incredulous and utterly outraged wave of arms that he got in response.
“Are you insane?!” Dana cried.
“…Jury’s still out.”
“What in god’s name possessed you to put that thought in his head?”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging as he replied, “Well, it’s medically-sound. The brain releases dopamine in response-”
“Jack, he bought a dodgy second-hand motorcycle, that he barely knows how to ride, with that,” she pointed at the brain bucket, “Acting as a last line of defense! There is nothing medically-sound about this! There’s nothing sound about this, period!”
“Well, I suggested base jumping - but he was opposed for some reason,” Jack replied glibly. “Something about, ‘encouraging problematic habits’.”
“I’m actually going to kill you,” Dana replied nodding to herself, with such solemnity that Jack was mildly concerned she actually meant it.
“But look, it’s working - he’s all chipper now.”
“I’ll be sure to mention that in his eulogy,” she dryly retorted. “How will I remember Robby? Well, he was ‘all chipper’ towards the end. May he rest in peace.”
Jack snickered in spite of himself, holding up his hands in contrition, before stooping to grab his backpack and swing it over his shoulder.
“Look, just relax. I’m going to fix it,” he said, before leaning over and swiping Robby’s sad excuse for a helmet off of the work station bench and clipping it onto his own bag. “Leave it with me.”
“That’s what got us in this situation in the first place,” Dana sniffed.
“Have faith,” Jack replied with a grin, walking backwards towards the ambulance bay doors.
“You’ve robbed me of that too,” Dana called after him, before throwing up her hands and, reluctantly, turning her attention back to the work of the day.
Jack chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he spun around and strode out the doors, a plan of action already formulating. Step one: Time to see what they’re working with.
Two and a half hours and several hundred dollars later, Jack found himself loitering by the central hub of the ED once again, waiting for Robby to emerge.
He didn’t end up having to wait too long.
“Hey, what are you doing back so soon?” the other man called as he made his way over, bumping his hip cheekily against Jack’s before taking in the bags that he’d hauled in with him. “What’s all this?”
“Tokens of my love,” Jack drawled, smirking as he pulled out the full face helmet he’d picked out for him and, without ceremony or explanation, plopped it straight on his head.
“Well this is unexpected,” Robby mumbled from inside, fumbling a moment with the visor lock before eventually managing to push it up and fix Jack with a confused frown. “What’s this for? I have a helmet.”
“Yes, but I’ve grown pretty fond of that face of yours, so I’m afraid that thing just isn’t going to do,” he replied simply, before teasingly flipping his visor shut again and grabbing hold of the chin, shaking it a bit, checking for any shifting, before nodding approvingly. “Seems like a good fit too.”
“I think you’re being a little-”
“I’m not,” Jack said, cutting his protests off as he plucked Robby’s phone from the pocket of his trousers, before reaching around and turning on the bluetooth headset he’d already wired up to the new helmet.
“But to convince you further, this helmet will also let you listen to your music, like we both know you enjoy,” he said, before tapping play on one of Robby’s many playlists and watching with amusement as the other man startled, before letting out a small hoot of delight at this new development.
Jack shook his head fondly, before digging into one of the other bags and pulling out the riding jacket he’d picked out, then proceeding to slip it up one arm and over the other man’s shoulders. Point 2: Abbot. Another perfect fit.
“Kevlar lining with armor in the elbows, shoulders, and back,” he announced, waiting for Robby to wiggle his free arm through the remaining sleeve before tossing a pair of gloves over as well.
“Now this,” he announced, waving a hand in Robby’s general direction, “Is what we call ‘the bare minimum’. You do not so much as sit on that bike until you’re wearing all three of these items, agreed?”
“Jack-”
“Robby,” Jack said firmly, cutting off his protesting before he could get properly started. “I’m gonna support you in this. Partly because it could be construed, if you squint a little, that I had a hand in your coming up with this idea. But mostly because I genuinely do think it might do you some damn good. Having said that, what I will not support is you doing it stupidly. You know the statistics with this stuff as well as I do. You know the potential injuries. You know the difference proper protective gear can make with those injuries. It’s all about mitigating risks.”
He stepped forward, flipped the visor up again so he could look him in the eye properly, before once again taking hold of the chin and giving it another gentle shake. “Bare. Minimum.”
“Alright,” Robby replied softly, Jack could practically hear the soppy smile in his voice. “Bare minimum.”
“Good boy,” Jack replied with a fond smile of his own, before releasing him and stepping back. “We should look into getting you some proper boots too, but I’ll actually need you there for that. Now - about the bike-”
“What’s wrong with the bike?” Robby whined, hastily pulling off his helmet to look at Jack properly.
“Precisely what I want to determine,” Jack replied, folding his arms over his chest. “I took a brief look as I was going through the car lot, and it seems alright.”
“Told you,” Robby replied smuggly.
“But looks can be deceiving. I’ll pick you up after work tonight with the trailer and we’ll give it a proper go over tomorrow.”
“I already gave it a go over,” Robby groaned loudly.
Jack arched a brow and remained pointedly silent.
Robby huffed at the unspoken insinuation.
“I read a book on motorcycle maintenance,” he sniffed. “I’ve done the research.”
“From memory, you read a book about car maintenance as well,” Jack drawled, leaning back against the desk behind him. “Right before you butchered your poor, defenseless Civic.”
“We fixed it,” Robby muttered weakly, face going a really rather telling shade of pink.
“I fixed it,” Jack corrected. “I love you, man - but you have a history of mechanical ineptitude. And that’s why I will be giving that bike of yours a full check before you take it out again. Agreed?”
“Fine,” Robby sighed as he set his new helmet on the counter, toggling with the air vents idly all the while. “What do I owe you for all this stuff anyway?”
“I’m not taking your money,” Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Just don’t fight me on actually using it, alright?”
“Who am I to rebuff tokens of your love,” Robby chuckled, still fiddling with the helmet.
Jack gently knocked his foot against the side of his leg to get his full attention, fixing him with a firm stare.
“I’m mean it, Mischa,” he said softly. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I know,” Robby replied, a gentle smile of his own curling at the corners of his lips. “This is very sweet of you… in a weirdly intense and practical way.”
“When you build a brand you’ve gotta stick with it,” Jack drawled with a grin. “And hey, once you’re up and running, we can take a trip out to the mountains together. Build up your seat time a little. My bike could do with a bit of a run as well and there’s a really nice little cafe I know up the top of-”
“How is this fixing it, Abbot?!” Dana cried, approaching at a rapid pace from where she’d clearly just come from chairs.
“Shiiiiit,” Jack uttered, taking a hasty step back, then another when Robby waved urgently towards the ambulance bay doors.
“Run for it, I’ll hold her off,” he said quickly, before rounding the desk and proceeding to do just that.
“Get out of the way, Rob- you can’t run from me forever!” Dana snapped, attempting and failing to side-step a suddenly very chatty attending.
“Gonna give it a damn good shot!” Jack called back, exchanging a final quick grin with Robby before spinning on his heel and fleeing.
Nobody could ever accuse him of not practicing what he preached. A little brush with danger, every now and then, sure did give life a hell of a lot more meaning!
And as a bonus - it’s not remotely relevant to the story anymore, but behold: the text chain of Robby butchering his Honda Civic.
