Chapter Text
Jack watched Robby closely. They had just gotten back from the park where they’d had a drink with their coworkers after the hellacious MCI at work. Jack’s leg throbbed and he worked on taking off the prosthetic as he continued to watch Robby. Robby glanced at him, a bone deep weariness in his eyes but managed an irritated glare at the same time.
“What?” He snapped.
Jack continued to stare at him, saying nothing.
Robby started to get agitated being stared at. “Fucking say something or take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
Jack snorted a laugh.
Robby huffed in annoyance. “I’m not in the mood, Jack. Leave me alone.”
Jack sobered up at that a little. Very un-Robby-like. They were usually pretty much always in each other’s business, physically, mentally, emotionally, all of it. You couldn’t go through what they’d been through together and not be.
“Hey,” Jack said in a serious tone. “Talk to me.”
Robby very suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, burst into tears. Jack scooted over to him as quickly as he could and pulled Robby’s head down onto his chest and held him as he cried.
Jack had been trying for several years now to get Robby to go to therapy but Robby refused. Which was really ironic because Robby had been the one to get Jack into therapy and helped him get his life together. He had been trying since Robby’s mentor, Adamson, had died of Covid.
Between the trauma of Covid itself and Adamson dying, Robby had changed. He wasn’t as easy going as he’d been before. His temper was shorter. It was very rarely directed at Jack, but he had less patience at work and in other situations. He was more reserved, less happy, had a general weariness to him now.
This event today, the shooting at Pittfest, had taken a huge toll on Robby. Not only that, but it had been a hard day even before that, losing patients and dealing with some of the harder stuff they see in their profession. To top it all off, Robby had a good friend from when he was younger, Janey, whose son Jake had been at Pittfest with his girlfriend. Robby had always been somewhat of a father figure to Jake because his father was not in his life and Janey was a single mother. Jake’s girlfriend had been shot and Robby had done his damnedest to save her even though they all knew she was gone before he’d even started.
Robby had mentioned that he’d broken during the event, shut down, let everybody down. Jack had tried to reassure him that he hadn’t and that he’d done an amazing job in a shitty situation.
But obviously it wasn’t sticking.
“Michael,” Jack whispered, softly. He felt Robby tense at his name, still sniffling against his chest. “There was nothing you could have done. Nothing. You cannot blame yourself for any of this.” Robby sobbed against him. “We all did our best. Fuck. We saved so many lives tonight. We worked our asses off. You included.”
He felt Robby shake his head against his chest and wanted to sigh. He could tell he wasn’t going to convince him. Instead, he ran his fingers through Robby’s hair, making it stick up wildly. “Let’s eat a little something and try to get some rest. Things might not look as grim in the morning.”
Robby went into a sort of disassociated state after that. He sat slack on the couch, staring at nothing, as Jack crutched to the kitchen to make them each a sandwich for dinner. It wasn’t much but it was something to put on their stomachs.
Robby refused to eat, turning his head when Jack offered it to him.
“You gotta eat, baby.”
Robby kept his head turned the other way, but Jack saw him reach up to wipe his eyes and knew he was losing it again. Jack wolfed down his own sandwich and drank some water. He held a bottle of water out to Robby and pleaded “At least drink some water. For me?” Another refusal to drink or even look in his direction.
Jack was afraid this was truly Robby’s breaking point. It had been building for a few years now, but this was it.
“Okay, baby.” Jack sighed. “Let’s go to bed.”
That much at least got Robby moving. They showered quickly, Robby never speaking or really paying Jack any attention.
When they crawled into bed, Robby in a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, Jack in his boxer briefs, Robby curled in on himself facing away from Jack. He seemed to fall asleep fairly quickly which Jack was thankful for. Jack, however, lay awake and obsessed. He thought back over the events of the day. He thought back over Robby’s declining mental health over the last few years.
He worried. Robby was so stubborn about therapy and he didn’t understand why. Robby had gone to countless therapy sessions with Jack. But even with offers to do the same for him, Robby refused. And Jack didn’t know how to help him. He knew he had to do something. Robby had spent their whole adult lives saving Jack. Now it was his turn to help Robby.