Chapter Text
The roof offers no protection from the autumn winds. It bats at Robby’s face and drifts under his hoodie, stealing the warmth accumulated by taking the stairs two at a time. He wraps his arms around his stomach, desperate for something to hold him together and anchor his emotions. He doesn’t understand what Jack likes about the night. From Robby’s perspective, it’s just cold, dark, and lonely.
Of course Langdon chose today to come back - just in time to ambush Robby before his sabbatical. Avoiding him thus far has been an exercise in futility, but at least he’s avoided the lengthy conversation Frank seems determined to corner him with.
He’s almost tempted to stay on the roof until the sky lightens and the sun begins to rise, if only to avoid Langdon catching him on the way out. But that wouldn’t be fair to Jack, currently standing taut beside him, failing miserably at acting casual as he tries to save Robby from himself. After today, Jack would probably follow him home if he could.
There are no prying eyes or curious ears on the roof except for Jack’s, but Robby still feels too exposed, too visible, scraped raw under scrutiny. If anyone has to see him like this, it might as well be Jack, but he doesn’t have to like it.
“I don’t need you looking out for me,” he says lowly. It emerges more as a biting remark, his accompanying laugh doing nothing to diffuse the acerbity. “What is this, preschool? I’m the head of the ED; conflict resolution is perfectly within my capabilities. I'll deal with Langdon in a bit.”
The expression Jack shoots him is dry and knowing. Always with the undercurrent of worry that’s taken up residence since Pittfest.
Thanks to the most recent psychiatrist Caleb had thrown his way, Robby is all too aware that he is lashing out and trying to protect himself by raising his hackles. Unfortunately for Jack, he really couldn’t care less about offending the guy right now. Not when he’s boring holes into the side of Robby’s head in a concentrated effort to manifest eye contact. After the day he’s just had, the last thing he needs is for Jack to tease from his expression the evidence of all the moral failings Robby hasn’t managed to scrub from his face. He’ll keep those walls up, thank you very much.
“Okay, I hear you, man. Just looking out for you,” Jack allows, trying for neutral but not quite reaching it. He can act casual all he wants, but his voice still carries the tone of worry that grates against Robby’s ears and makes him grit his teeth. It’s almost worse than when Jack gets fed up and confronts him directly.
“You don’t have to.” Robby clenches his hands to keep himself from snapping, fingernails digging into flesh as he leans harder against the railing. Jack’s gaze is heavy and unwavering in his peripheries.
“You know I’m not just a coworker, right? We’ve known each other a long time,” he says lightly, bumping against Robby’s elbow. “I’ve seen how you work. I know how you like to run this place. And brother, you are falling apart at the seams.”
Truly, it’s a testament to how long they’ve known each other that Robby doesn’t flinch away. He keeps his gaze fixed on the horizon instead, resolutely not meeting Jack’s gaze.
“So what? I’m handling it,” he snaps out before he think to stop himself. “I don’t need you to babysit me. I was just… Langdon threw me off today, that’s all. I didn’t expect to see him. Whatever he has to say to me can wait until I get back.” He sure as hell isn’t talking to Langdon tonight. That would be momentously bad for both of them.
The sharpness of his tone is somewhat diluted when the tickle in his nose turns into five full-body sneezes. Jack coughs beside him to cover up his amused grin.
“You know, if you’re too sick to leave-”
“Shut up.”
This time, he does flinch when Jack places a hand on his back, steady and grounding. He swings them around to face each other. Robby closes his eyes like a child to avoid Jack’s searching gaze. He doesn’t feel like being psychoanalyzed tonight. Hell, he’s supposed to be on sabbatical right now, not convincing Jack he’s not suicidal while hiding from Langdon on the roof.
Jack takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before blowing out. Maybe that’s a therapy trick he learned - isn’t that the stereotypical thing people learn in therapy? How to breathe? If so, Robby could certainly learn that by himself.
“Okay. Robby. You would look out for me if I was having a rough time, yeah?”
He opens his eyes to see Jack’s nose an inch away from his. “Maybe,” he says evasively.
“Yes, you would,” Jack revises Robby’s answer. “You’ve done it before. You’ll probably do it again. I need you to understand that this isn’t me doubting your abilities, or thinking you’re losing it, or whatever story your brain’s come up with. This is me looking out for a friend. And I don’t care how many times I have to say this before it kicks in, but Robby, you deserve to be looked out for. You deserve to have friends. You hear me? Let me help you out here.”
Jack moves his hands to clasp Robby’s shoulders. Not enough to pin him in place, but putting them close enough to make looking away difficult.
Logically speaking, he knows that everyone needs friends and human connection. It’s a fact of the human condition - people have evolved to exist within communities of people and support circles. Not Robby, though.
So no, he doesn’t hear Jack. He nods anyway. It’s good enough to make Jack back away, although not enough to ease the tension pressed into the corners of his mouth.
“Alright,” Jack says quietly. “I’m taking you home with me.”
“What?” The air leaves Robby’s lungs in a rush. “Absolutely not. Jack-”
“I am taking time off work so we can discuss whatever’s going on with… this. We are marching into that elevator and dealing with whatever’s waiting for us on the other side. Whatever it is you’re worried about, we will figure it out.” He speaks over him firmly, holding up a finger when Robby goes to interrupt. “Robby. Since you won’t let yourself accept help, I am doing it for you.”
Robby stares at him with damp eyes. Jack's face is flushed and worried beneath the mask of resolve. His eyes dart around Robby’s face like he’s trying to catalogue every micro-expression that crosses his face. His fingers twitch by his side, likely with an active effort to keep from grabbing his shoulders again.
Jack is scared for him, he realizes. Jack. Robby lets his head fall. Guilt arrives sharply in his mind. He hadn’t meant to hurt Jack. Never him.
“Okay,” he whispers.
Jack nods once, relief washing over his features, and wraps him in an uncomfortably tight hug. Robby lets his head be tucked against Jack’s chest.
“Thank you, Robby,” he breathes out. “Thank you.”