Chapter Text
Robby is about to have his first therapy session and his leg is bouncing nervously even as he tries to make it stop.
He’d done Milo’s first session with him. Milo’s will be a mix of play and talk therapy. It had gone well enough. Milo had been very shy and hadn’t opened up much, but the therapist assured Robby that was very normal and that they’d work on building a rapport over the first several sessions.
It’s Robby’s day off and the kids are at school. Jack is at home sleeping; he has worked several nights in a row and it’s catching up to him.
Robby’s therapist opens the door and shakes the hand of the current patient walking out. They’re smiling and seem to be comfortable as though he’s likely not a new patient.
She closes the door after him and is gone for several minutes, likely finishing up whatever quick notes she had from the previous session. She’s probably also doing another scan of Robby’s new patient paperwork to jog her memory about who she has next.
Robby swallows convulsively. He’s not even sure why he’s so nervous. What exactly does he think is going to happen? She’s going to ask him about his deepest darkest secrets straight off the bat?
When Dr. Reed walks back out, she smiles at Robby and sweeps her arm in a welcoming gesture.
He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and stands up, making his way into her office.
It’s cozy with soft lighting, a few seating options that include a big soft couch, an arm chair, and a couple of standard dining looking chairs with a hard back, and quiet instrumental music playing just enough that there’s not total silence.
“Dr. Robinavitch. Please make yourself comfortable.”
“Just Robby,” he corrects automatically as he chooses the armchair. It feels a little more closed in and safe than the big couch. He thinks he’d feel more exposed with all that space.
Dr. Reed sits in her chair which is near his but not directly across.
“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” Dr. Reed starts.
And he instantly thinks I don’t want to be here with a ferocity that almost startles him.
“Um…” he mumbles, thinking. “I work at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center in the ED as an attending. I’ve been with my husband, Jack, for fifteen years. We have four children. Milo is ten, Clark is seven, and Nell and Junie just turned three.”
He stops there and waits. Awkwardly.
Dr. Reed smiles and says “Wow. Four kids. Tell me more about them.”
“Milo is very smart. He’s dealing with a lot of anxiety lately. It’s actually one of the main reasons I’m even here. I promised him I’d try. Clark is… well, he’s Clark. He’s a handful. He’s hysterical. He’s fire and sass. The girls are sweet. Nell is a little angel baby. Junie takes after Clark and is spirited and feisty. They’re… they’re amazing kids,” he says sincerely.
“They sound wonderful. Tell me about Jack.”
“He’s what keeps me going.” He winces at that phrasing. He’s afraid she’ll think he’s suicidal, and he’s not. Forcing himself to continue, he says “He works at PTMC also. He works nights so we’re on opposite shifts but we make it work for our family.”
Dr. Reed nods. “So, Robby, tell me a little about why you’re here, what you want to get out of therapy, anything else you feel is relevant or that you want me to know.”
Robby starts bouncing his leg again. He can tell that Dr. Reed notices.
He thinks for a moment and continues bouncing his leg, nervously bites the skin around his thumbnail before saying “That’s the thing. I… I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. Jack has been asking me to do therapy and then when Milo got so upset I told him we could both try therapy. But I don’t… I don’t want to do this.”
Dr. Reed tilts her head slightly. “Okay. I hear what you’re saying. Why don’t you tell me why Jack wants you to do therapy then?”
Because he’s been a wreck ever since Adamson died. Because the Covid crisis has ruined him completely. Because he can’t handle his stress as well as he used to. Because he’s an emotional mess. Because because because.
Robby shrugs.
Dr. Reed nods in acceptance, not pushing. “Can you tell me more about Milo’s anxiety?”
“It started after Covid. We think everything that came with that set it off. The changes and the general panic about all of it.”
“What were the particular changes that he experienced?”
Robby looks off to the side, out the window, picturing talking to Milo through a screen. Not being able to hug him. Being closed off from his family for months.
“Well, online learning for one thing. Being away from peers and confined to the house. Jack took a long hiatus from work and stayed home with the kids while I stayed at the hospital.”
“Stayed?”
“Yeah, for a few months I lived at the hospital so I wouldn’t risk bringing the virus home to my family.”
“That must have been hard.”
His damn leg starts bouncing again. It apparently has a mind of its own today.
When he doesn’t respond, Dr. Reed says “Okay” quietly, clearly acknowledging that he’s not ready to talk and says “Talk to me about Clark. He sounds like a character.”
And for the first time since arriving, a genuine smile takes over Robby’s face. Clark is a character.
And talking about his kids feels safe.
“He nearly broke us when he was a baby,” he grins fondly. “He screamed 24/7. He was pissed at the world. Turns out he just wasn’t content being a baby. He wanted to move. He started walking early and has consumed our entire lives ever since. He is genuinely funny, but he also has the shortest temper of anybody I’ve ever met. He was diagnosed with ADHD in first grade and school has always been a challenge for him. He’s also one of the most loving, caring, protective kids I’ve ever met. His empathy level is off the charts. He feels deeply. He’s truly just something else.”
Dr. Reed’s face has taken on a fond look as he talks.
They spend the last little bit talking more in depth about the twins before Dr. Reed is saying she’s enjoyed meeting him. She tells him she’d like to see him again next week and he nods mechanically before leaving.
When he gets home, he undresses down to his boxer briefs and crawls back into the bed with Jack. Jack stirs around and peers one bleary eye open at him before lifting his arm for Robby to crawl into.
Robby crawls in and snuggles into Jack’s warmth. Jack grumbles sleepily, shifting until he’s comfortable with his head resting on top of Robby’s, almost smothering him. He immediately starts snoring directly in his ear and it kind of tickles. Robby huffs a laugh and Jack stirs around again.
“You’re snoring in my ear,” Robby whispers.
“I don’t snore,” Jack mumbles, half asleep and arguing just for the sake of it. He knows he snores, but he’ll deny it just for the fun of it.
“Tell that to the logs you just sawed in my ear.”
Jack pops his head up and opens his eyes in shock.
“That’s so rude,” Jack laughs.
“You snoring in my ear is rude,” Robby argues back, laughing.
They lie there for a bit, just running their hands soothingly over each other.
“So, how was it?” Jack finally asks. Then quickly says “You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to! Just a general how’d it go? Good, bad? You loved it, you hated it?”
“You’re rambling,” Robby tells him with a smirk.
Jack snaps his mouth closed and waits patiently.
“I clammed up. I refused to talk about myself. I talked about the kids the whole time.”
“Okay, well that’s okay. The first session usually isn’t super deep anyway. You’re just getting to know each other. What did you think about the doctor?”
“She was nice. She was fine.”
“But?”
“I don’t want to do this,” Robby says desperately.
Jack is quiet for a moment before he says “I don’t understand your resistance to doing therapy.”
Robby shrugs. “I just don’t want to.”
Jack sits up, frustrated. “Okay, well that’s not good enough. Give me a valid reason and I’ll listen.”
Bristling in defense immediately, Robby says “I don’t have to have any reason other than I don’t want to.”
Jack sighs. “I’m not trying to argue with you, Michael. But you can’t keep going the way you’re going and if you keep going the way you’re going, it will have an effect on our family and our relationship. Whether you want it to or not.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Listen to me. Very carefully. I love you and that will never change. And it doesn’t bother me in the least that you’re going through a hard time. I’m here for you, babe. And happy to be. But whatever anxiety, depression, PTSD you’re going through will eventually wear on those around you if you’re not willing to try to work on it.”
Robby immediately wants to curl in on himself.
“Don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way. Please. I’ll support you through every up and down and everywhere in between, but I can’t keep you afloat if you’re unwilling to help yourself in any way. And it’s not fair to ask me to.”
Shame blossoms through Robby’s chest.
And he knows Jack is right. But also, whatever he has going on, prevents him from handling this moment even close to the right way.
He gets up and pulls on his shirt and pants.
“What are you doing?” Jack asks.
Robby glances at him.
“Are you… walking away?” Jack asks, voice hurt and shocked.
His next move could make or break them. It could have a profound impact on their relationship.
But the thing is… he is having some sort of mental health issue and he’s not thinking logically or rationally.
So he turns and walks away.