Chapter Text
Jack had first really taken notice of Robby's tattoos a few months into starting at the Pitt as an attending. It wasn't like Robby went out of his way to hide them, what with them just peeking out of the sleeves of his scrubs.
While he had his ups and downs, the last month or so had been pretty consistently down for Jack, and he didn't have anyone but himself to blame. He had a habit of trying to tackle the most delicate and borderline patients back to back, and failure only made him want to push himself harder into that behavior. Either he saved the patient and felt like a million bucks, or he failed them and suddenly it felt like he couldn't save anyone around him.
He had been coding a woman who'd been in a car crash for the last half hour who was starting to stabilize, but it was hard to tell if she might not still make a change for the worse. For quite a while she would improve briefly, only for the trauma to catch up with her and pull her under again. The fight she was putting up was downright heroic, and Jack wanted to give her every chance. He was doing the best he could, the team in the room with him acting as an extension of each other, all cogs in a repeating set of resuscitation procedures.
Finally, it seemed like she wasn't imminently on death's doorstep. Or she at least seemed well enough to survive the trip up to the OR. If she did survive this next part, her injuries would still be life-changing, but she would still have a life to rebuild. Jack was familiar with the situation.
As the nurses prepped to move her upstairs and the harsh focus in his mind began to fade, relief creeping up on him, he suddenly felt a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly, contrasting the chill of the ER.
"Good job Dr. Abbot. She's got a shot." Robby said softly, standing close behind him.
Jack turned around, looking into the soft eyes of a man who he's come to see subconsciously as a brother-in-arms over the last few months, like many of the doctors that Jack had quickly learned to depend on once he moved out to Pittsburgh.
Robby patted him on the shoulder, tapping in. His presence signaled the end of Jack's shift, which he probably went over while working on the girl, but staying late was the normal modus operandi for an ER doc anyways.
Leaning over the patient to do a final once over before she was sent up, Jack's eye for some reason caught on the tattoo on his arm, Amor Fati. He vaguely remembered seeing the other arm had said Memento Mori at some point, though he hadn't really thought too hard about his co-worker's tattoo at the time. Now, he had to do a double take, trying to be subtle about getting a clear look at the script. Memento Mori and Amor Fati, on either arm. They were insanely dumb and cheesy, the kind of thing a teenager would fantasize about getting as their first tattoo, but for some reason, in that moment, they offered Jack a deeper view of Robby that he hadn't anticipated before.
For the last few months, if not years, Jack had been pretty focused on himself, mainly in terms of keeping his shit mostly together, particularly while at work. Robby had seemed like a decent enough guy, always friendly and considerate of others, only making the odd self-deprecating joke, but in a kind of co-worker way, where he had the polite layer of artificiality most people wore around people they didn't know that well. The tattoos, though. "Memento mori" screamed emo teen, something morbidly depressing to have on your arm while working at a hospital of all places, it was pretty funny in retrospect. And "Amor fati". Sort of implies he might have a hard time loving his own fate.
Jack cast his eyes over Robby's face, really noticing him in that moment. He was busy delegating at the moment, his eyebrows raised while fielding a request from one of the nurses, a smile on his face, but his eyes still looking tired and worn-down, despite it being the start of his shift. Did Robby feel like all this was a fate he was trapped in? All the other attendings here seemed so on top of their shit, completely professional and in control, and Jack felt like he was constantly either trying to get his shit together or having it fall apart on him. Robby's tattoos made Jack see the slightest glimpse of turmoil, of real humanity, despite how dumb and edgy they were.
Robby eyes flashed over to him. Had he paused for too long?
"You good?" he asked, eyes suddenly locked in on Jack's.
Lately, Jack had been really pushing himself at his new therapist's to get more comfortable sharing his thoughts and feelings, but it had been like pulling teeth. His mind would empty when he was asked "how does that make you feel", and his throat would run dry once he did think of something to say. But now, here, in a moment of temporary insanity, looking into Robby's sad, soft eyes, leaning over a hospital bed with nurses milling around, Jack felt the impulse to tell Robby everything that's been bothering him for the last year of his life. Hell, might as well make it the last decade or two. His marriage, his wife's death, his foot, his old job, his self-destructive impulses, the city he used to live in, his family. He couldn't stop staring at Robby. All of it was buzzing under his skin, and he wanted to crack open like an egg.
He blinked and looked away. He shook his head a bit, awareness creeping in that he's had this fleeting loss of sanity while standing over a patient.
"Yep. I'm the best there is, brother." he said, with barely any energy, giving a half-hearted finger gun that felt somewhat embarrassing.
He stepped away from the bed to get ready to move on with his day but also to put some space between himself and the weird impulse of vulnerability towards a man he barely knew.
"Nice tattoos." He threw over his shoulder.
Robby scoffed, brushing his sleeve down further, face going red.
-----
Fifteen minutes later, Robby stepped out into the dismal grey light of day out on the roof. It's still autumn for now, but the crisp wind hits him in a gust as the door slams behind him. He had wanted to ask Dr. Abbot about a patient who was supposed to be coming back later in the day, and Dana had told him he was still on the premises.
"Probably on the roof" she had said, looking over her glasses at him with an expression that implied she knew more than she was saying, which she normally did.
Dr. Abbot had started as an attending here a few months back, backed by Adamson. Robby didn't doubt that he was an incredibly skilled physician, and he was grateful to have the ex-army doctor working with him during the heavy traumas or multiple casualty incidents. Where others would panic, Dr. Abbot had a strange calm focus that would come over him. Outside that, he wasn't overly friendly with anyone, keeping to himself other than the odd sarcastic joke. Robby saw a darkness that sat in his face most of the time that he could recognize in himself. The one that sat right under his eyes.
Abbot was huddled near the railing, hands in his pockets, motionlessly staring at the ground over the edge.
Scratch that, he was standing past the railing.
Shit.
"Hi!" Robby calls out, like an idiot, going over to him. He doesn't know what he's going to say, over then feeling he needs to intervene. "You know, I don't think you can smoke here". Robby winces internally as he says the joke at how unfunny it is, but it was the first thing he thought to say to diffuse the situation, what with the a no-smoking sign affixed to the wall by the door.
Abbot turns to watch Robby's approach and gives him a half-hearted smile, like he's embarrassed. Because of the chill his breath comes out in a visible huff. Insanely, Robby thinks he looks cute when he's sheepish. Dr. Abbot ducks down, passing back through the railing, like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.
"I swear to god it's not as bad as it looks. I wasn't going to- I'm not suicidal. You don't need to admit my ass."
"Then how about you calm me down by telling me what the idea was, cause you kind of scared me for a second there, friend."
"I just- ha- it's nothing weird. I just wanted to look over the edge. For fun. You know, for kicks." His voice was upbeat, trying to make light of it, but his eyes were trained off to the side, still not making eye-contact.
Robby seemed to startle him by stepping forward, hands on both of Jack's shoulders, trying to force him to look directly at him, leaning his head in to get in his face. Jack instinctively reached up and grabbed a handful of Robby's sleeve, like he was afraid Robby might start manhandling him. Robby seriously doubted he could manage that; Abbot was in much better shape than him. It did momentarily bring Robby's attention to the ring on his finger though.
Robby tried to think of the things people were supposed to say in potentially sensitive situations like this. "The feeling you have right now will pass. It's temporary. You did so well today. They were lucky to have you down there. We're all lucky."
Abbot huffed a laugh. "Robby, you don't need to work down the psych checklist of affirmations right now. Seriously." He patted Robby's arm, signaling he could let go. Robby doubled down.
"Just...tell me where you're at right now."
"I'm fine. If anything, standing near the edge reminds me of how much I don't want to jump."
"No. Something's off. Something's been off, but I wasn't paying enough attention. I'm sorry, that's on me. But I'm paying attention now, and what I see has me worried, Abbot." His eyes flick back down to his hand again. "I'm sure your spouse is worried too."
Something comes over Abbot's face then. First he seems surprised, then a look of mirth comes over him, a single bark of laughter coming out harsh and sudden. Then his face shudders and he's roughly shaking off Robby's hands, stepping back a few steps.
"Mental health crisis intervention 101, Dr. Robinavitch. Don't bring up how your patient might be upsetting their family. Next thing you'll say is that I have so much to live for, right?". Robby feels lost. He doesn't know how to salvage this scenario.
Abbot takes a breath, smoothing back his curly hair, which only seems to leave it a little worse for wear. "Well, I wasn't having a crisis. This is just my baseline. I'm a morbid weirdo who likes to do shit to scare himself. That's all."
The two men stand a few feet apart, Jack avoiding looking him intensely, unsure how to continue.
Robby clears his throat, his first impulse to diffuse again. "You know what, I think that's the same reason I got my tattoos."
Abbot doesn't react for a few moments, then miraculously, has a small chuckle. "My wife had stupid tattoos, too."
Had.
Robby smiles sympathetically, even as the past tense of the word echoes in his mind. So, he really did step in it when he brought up his spouse.
"She had a fucking... Lilo and Stitch tattoo. And an infinity sign on her ankle." He laughs more earnestly this time. "And her ex-boyfriend's name. Travis. The douchiest name possible."
"Oof. She's got me beat then. No latin at least. Although I might get 'Travis' for my next one." Robby said, trying to lighten the mood.
To his relief, Abbot chuckles at that. Robby relaxes minutely.
But then Abbot goes quiet again. Softly, he says "She died a little over a year ago."
Robby's face falls. " Car crash. Like the patient today." Abbot's back to looking at the horizon as he says this. They went silent for a moment.
Abbot shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I'm being- yeah." He makes a move to leave, but Robby puts his hand on his upper arm tentatively, trying to get him to face him again.
"I got the tattoos after I lost my first few patients." Robby said, trying to get the ball rolling. "When I realized I wasn't ever going to get used to it, and that it wasn't going to stop happening. Not as long as I'm in this line of work, anyways."
The shyness didn't leave Abbot’s expression, but he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, like he kept thinking of something to say and then swallowing it.
Abbot looked at him blankly for a moment, and Robby was sure he was about to lose him.
But even after all this time, people still have the ability to surprise him. In the beginning, Abbot spoke in fits and starts, seeming to choke on his words. But once he got started, it all bled out of him. Robby did his best to convey his total attention, that he was listening completely.
Robby listened while Abbott poured out his heart to him, pieces at a time, in reverse chronological order, each trouble blooming out of another. His difficulties finding a therapist he clicked with in Pittsburgh. His move there after the death of his wife. How she had helped him with the loss of his leg. How losing his leg had cost him the only life he had known in the military. His time in the military, being convinced he wouldn't be able to function in the real world without the structure it provided. His father's pressure for him to join in the first place. All his issues whittling away down to the root of him.
They stood out there in the cold air for a good long time.
Starting over in Pittsburgh. Putting his life back together, over and over again. Robby was a little in awe of him. The world had done its best to crush him but every time he pulled himself back together. After all the layers of him were pulled back, there was a man underneath who was whole.
Robby prompted him to continue, asking the odd question until finally the tide ebbed down, leaving Abbot a little deflated.
He apologized for dumping so much onto Robby, adding sheepishly “Patients must like talking to you. You just…seem like you want to hear it”.
Robby surprised himself by telling him honestly "It's nice to focus on someone else for awhile", getting a baffled smile from Jack.