Work Text:
Choosing the 4th of July as his last shift was certainly a choice. He’d considered leaving one day earlier, but he knew his absence on a holiday would just mean some other person would have to be away from their family. He didn’t really have a family to be with, so why not do this. This was the last nice thing he could do for his coworkers. His friends. The people he cared about the most. He could let someone else have the day off.
And as he’d expected, the shift was turning out to be absolute chaos. The blows kept coming one after another: Westbridge shutdown, cyber attack… but none of it could touch Robby. He could see freedom right on the other side of the chaos and that was all he was focusing on. This was the last thing he’d ever have to endure, and then it would be over.
He had never felt so light.
All the exhaustion and pain felt muted for once. He knew it was because now he knew when it would end, and for that all he could feel was relief. Getting to feel so free, relieved, almost happy during his last days on this earth was kind of poetic, actually. But he knew his decision was the right one. He could see the finish line and he wanted nothing more than to cross it.
--
The hardest part of the whole process was the people he’d be leaving behind. Friends.
He hoped Whitaker wouldn’t take it too hard. He knew he was becoming some sort of a mentor to the young doctor, and the last thing he wanted to do to anyone was make them go through what he did with doctor Adamson and his death.
But Robby wasn’t Adamson and Whitaker wasn’t Robby. Robby was deciding his own fate, not dying prematurely surrounded by his colleagues. It wouldn’t be Whitaker taking him off life support, it would be Robby himself. Whitaker wouldn’t have to see him go. It would fuck Whitaker up for sure, the man was so sensitive, but Robby knew he’d get over it eventually. The hospital was filled with great doctors to fill his role in Whitaker's life. Besides, Whitaker had friends. Robby’s heart ached at the thought of those puppy dog eyes sad because of him, but he knew that in the end, Whitaker would be alright.
Dana was… Dana. Robby had been around her for a long time, long enough to know she had to have some sort of an inkling as to what he was planning on doing. But she was a stubborn woman, and she was strong. Out of the people around him, she was the one he was almost the least worried about. He knew he was important to her, but he knew she had a family, she had people around him. She was hardened by her own battles and she had a protective shell around her, several inches thick. Dana would be sad, but she’d be fine.
But Jack.
Jack was turning out to be the toughest one to accept hurting. The last hurdle in the road.
Saying goodbye to him was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. He could tell Jack knew exactly what he was planning, and it was painful to say goodbye to a person who actually knew it was a goodbye. He could almost see the man’s heart break when Robby said nothing when Jack told him to make sure to come back from his trip. But Robby couldn’t promise something he never intended to do in the first place, so he stayed quiet. He couldn’t look Jack in the eyes as he more or less confirmed to the man what his intentions were, so he just smiled, gave Jack a pat on the back and walked away without so much as a look back.
He’d felt so light for the first time in years after he’d made up his mind. He could see the finish line, he knew the end to all his pain and sadness was coming, and it was the one thing keeping him going. If he now changed his mind, his mind would fill with static again. He’d see ghosts everywhere he went, he’d go back to feeling the guilt of everything, the weight of everything again. And he just couldn’t do that anymore. Not even for Jack.
So he wrote a note for Jack. Nothing too deep or sad, just a short good bye like doctor Adamson had taught him.
Thank you.
I love you.
I forgive you.
But most importantly.
Please forgive me.