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It’s after 3:00am when Lena beckons Abbot over to the hub with an exasperated flap-flap-flap of her hand.
“What’s up?” he asks. The board is turning over. Chairs is thinning out. Their last trauma patient’s already gone upstairs. He can’t think of anything he’s done tonight to piss off any of the nurses.
“Tell Dr. Robby to go to sleep, would you?” she directs, waggling the receiver in his direction. “I'm not here to take social calls.”
Ah. Yeah. That would do it.
He picks up the phone.
“It’s the middle of the night, brother. Why are you up?”
Robby answers with a soggy sniffle. “Because I can’t breathe if I’m lying down, but that’s not the problem.”
“Oh?”
“Have you seen the email? About Langdon.”
Oh.
“Yeah, I’ve seen it.”
Robby sniffles and sighs on the other end of the line, then gives a rattling little cough.
Abbot waits. He glances at the clock on the monitor next to him. He’s timing Robby’s inability to express himself like he’d time a seizure.
It lasts two full minutes.
Finally, Robby admits, hoarsely, “I don’t want him in my ED.”
Abbot hums in acknowledgement.
“Did you tell them that before they made their decision?”
Sniffle. Exhale. Sniff harder.
The audible congestion makes Abbot wince in sympathy.
“They asked me what conditions would have to be in place for him to return safely,” says Robby, “They didn’t ask me whether I could stomach working with him when he does.”
“And you don’t think you can.”
“Could you?”
Abbot cocks his head. To be honest, he hasn’t really thought about it. But then, this isn’t really about him.
“He’s not the first of us to ever struggle,” he reasons, “But if you’re looking to pawn him off on nights, you’re out of luck. The more eyes around to watch over him the better, and that means day shift, at least until he’s settled in.”
“He was diverting benzos right in front of my eyes for weeks and I didn’t see a thing.” Robby’s breath catches and he chokes his way through another coughing fit. “If he’s coming back, it can’t be on my watch.”
Mohan approaches the hub with a chart in hand. Abbot holds up two fingers. She nods and turns around.
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then that sounds like the kind of decision you ought to sleep on. So why don’t we solve first problems first. You think you can stand up long enough to take a shower?”
Robby sniffles thickly. “I can take care of myself, Jack.”
“I know you can, brother, I know you can,” Abbot deflects, “I’m just doing what Lena tells me to. So, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to take a shower, down some Nyquil, prop yourself up nice and vertical, and go to sleep.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll come over to your place when I’m done here. We can talk then.”
“You don’t have to–“
“You’re going to leave me alone after a debrief with Shen?”
“Well, when you put it–”
“Go to sleep, Robby. I’ll see you in the morning.”