Work Text:
Robby sighed, pulling his glasses off to rub at his tired eyes. They burned and the lids were heavy but he wasn’t even six hours into his shift yet. Yesterday had been a shitfest, and getting home late and letting Duke comfort him with his dick hadn’t helped matters any, really. It had quieted his mind enough to let him get to sleep—with the TV on in the corner on some shitty late-night show that Duke thought was stupid enough to be funny—but he hadn’t gotten nearly enough hours of shut-eye even with Duke taking care of him. Robby felt slow, and heavy, and he was sluggish as he watched his students wade through the aftermath of last night’s MCI.
Duke had absolutely refused to let Robby walk to work like he always did. The fucker had even stolen his phone after Robby had fallen asleep and had changed his alarm by just an hour so Robby was forced to accept a ride from him. Robby had glowered at his husband throughout breakfast and grumbled a thanks as a plate was set in front of him, but Duke had steadfastly ignored him and had worked on the crossword puzzle across from him as he ate.
“Dr. Robby?” asked Javadi, pulling him out of his thoughts. She looked as dead on her feet as Robby felt. He’d honestly been surprised she had returned after last night. Her and Santos both had returned with varying levels of enthusiasm. He really wouldn't have blamed them if they had run as far and as fast as they could away from this fuckin' hellhole. “I have those lab results back.”
Robby replaced his glasses to take a look at her tablet. “Alright. Walk me through it. Give me your thought process.”
With a bit of gentle guidance, Javadi rushed off to start the patient on a simple IV for their migraine likely caused by dehydration from stress. A very simple fix that a litre or two of fluid would cure for now and pamphlet on stress relief to take home for later.
Donnie came up to him as Javadi left. He looked concerned. “Hey, boss. Got a kid up front asking for you? Monique asked me to grab you.”
Robby frowned. “Did he give you a name?”
“Said his name is Junior?”
Robby reared back a bit. The fuck was Junior doing here? He stumbled to his feet. Exhaustion tried to trip him up but he pushed past it to hurry to Chairs. He heard Donnie on his heels and he wanted to bark out orders, but he didn’t know what was wrong. He hadn’t felt his phone vibrate, and he’d checked it just before Javadi had needed his assistance and hadn’t seen any messages.
He burst out into Chairs, startling a few patients as the door hit the wall. Junior was standing near the bathrooms and nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Dude, totally unnecessary,” Junior deadpanned, raising a judgmental eyebrow in Robby’s direction. His piercing glinted at the movement.
“What’s wrong?” asked Robby, ignoring him. He rushed forward, cupping Junior’s face to tilt his head. Pupils equal and reactive to the overhead light, no bruising, no blood, no swollen lip around his lip piercing. He tried to pull back the lapel of the leather jacket Junior had stolen from Duke when he was thirteen. His motorcycle helmet was dangling from his fingertips. Maybe he wasn’t too hurt, if he’d ridden his motorcycle here. His backpack dangled from his other hand. Did it have a fucking toe or some shit? Robby had told him that amputations needed ice—
“Dude, chill the fuck out.” Junior batted his hands away with an annoyed roll of his eyes. “I’m fine. Dad wanted me to bring you lunch.”
Robby’s nose scrunched. “What?”
“Yeah.” He lifted the backpack, as if Robby was kind of dumb. “He realized you didn’t take lunch with you when he got home and asked me to bring you some.”
The adrenaline rushed out of Robby like the water rushing out to sea before a tsunami. He slumped over, thunking his forehead onto the leather on Junior’s shoulder. “You can’t do that shit to me. I thought you were hurt.”
“Bruh—"
“Don’t call me bruh—”
“My guy, it is not that serious.”
Robby huffed, just barely able to push himself to stand fully again. Still, he grasped his son’s shoulders and cast a worried gaze over him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Should be asking you that,” Junior muttered. He held up the bag again. “Lunch. Dad said I had to watch you eat it.”
Robby rolled his eyes. "He worries too much."
"Yeah, well. We have cause." Junior shook the bag pointedly.
Robby sighed. “You’ll be waiting a while.”
Junior wiggled the bag again. “Don’t worry. I brought my switch.”
Robby narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Got it from the best,” said Junior with a sharp grin. He motioned with both arms towards the ED. “Lead on. The sooner you eat the sooner I’m out of your hair and the sooner I can report to dad that you didn’t wuss out on us.”
Robby shook his head with a sigh. “I swear. You’re an ulcer.”
Junior’s grin sharpened. “Learned that one from the best, too.”
Back at the Hub, Robby paused to check that the ED didn’t need him. Waving down Mark, he told the charge nurse, “I’m being kidnapped. I’ll be in the break room if you need me.”
Mark pushed up his glasses and made a face as he looked at Robby, then at Junior. “I guess so. Who’s this?”
“My—”
The words got stuck in Robby’s throat. There was nothing wrong with being gay, with having a husband, with adopting the child his partner had had with his ex before Robby came along. He knew that, logically. He knew that most of his staff was queer friendly and liked him enough that they wouldn’t say shit or make fun of him or whatever else he sometimes feared. There was no logical reason to be afraid.
But he was.
Sort of.
Not really, anyway. He was more just… intensely private about his life. So much so that he had straight up lied and said he didn’t have a family. No one knew that he and Emery were siblings, since she had taken her wife’s name. No one knew that Janey and Jake had just been neighbors and he and Duke used to babysit Jake when he was younger and Janey had watched Junior on their date nights. No one knew that he had known Duke since 2008, after coming back to Pittsburgh after Katrina and a three-year tour with MSF, when Junior was all of two years old and toddling around Duke’s shop. No one knew that they had gotten married and Robby had adopted Junior just a few weeks after his tenth birthday. Robby had even gone with the ruse of “dating” Collins—never more than dates, because he just needed a cover but he wouldn’t actually cheat on his husband and, besides, Duke had given him permission and he still felt so awful about it all—and so many other women because he couldn’t stand the thought of his personal life and his work life clashing.
As it were, Junior just being in the building was sending his anxiety through the stratosphere.
Junior was… aware, as far as Robby knew. He’d always been so careful not to bring work home with him, not to bring home to work. Robby always took Junior to the children’s hospital if he needed treatment that Robby couldn’t give at home. Duke had an allergy to hospitals, anyway, and joked about needing to take Benadryl just to tolerate Robby, so he never had to worry about Duke coming by except to drop him off or pick him up sometimes. And he’d never brought Junior like he had Jake on the rare occasion.
Not even Abbot or Dana were aware of the truth. The only person at PTMC who was aware of it had only been notified because Robby had put Junior on his health insurance after he adopted him. Robby was pretty sure Gladys had retired shortly after.
“My buddy’s kid,” Robby finished weakly. “Kind enough to bring me lunch.”
“Eat fast,” Mark urged, already turning away.
Yeah. Figured.
“Come on, kid.”
Junior followed quietly after. Robby hated how his neck prickled, how he felt like his son was judging him.
He wasn’t ashamed of his family. He wasn’t.
He just didn’t want people to know him.
Thankfully, the break room was empty. Robby took the tupperware from Junior to heat it up. At least Duke had used the good tupperware instead of the Country Crock containers Duke loved so much. Robby would never understand his husband’s obsession about “recycling” those containers when there was perfectly good tupperware gathering dust in the back of their cabinets.
Lunch wasn’t anything fancy. Leftover Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes and green beans from the other night and a bottle of Diet Coke. It would be miles better than the protein bar and coffee he’d been planning on eating.
As soon as Robby sat back down, Junior turned in his chair so he could throw his leg up and dangle the heel of his boot from Robby’s knee, trapping him in his seat. Junior slouched, appearing like he didn’t care, and stabbed at his green beans.
“You know,” Junior said slowly. “I heard you and dad last night.”
Robby flinched. His appetite was gone. “Sorry,” he replied softly. He stirred his potatoes. He scooped up a mouthful and it sat heavy on his tongue. “Didn’t mean to traumatize you.”
“You okay, pops?”
What a loaded fucking question. The answer was, simply, no. But he couldn’t tell his kid that. Not one that was staring at him just like his dad would when Robby was being particularly stubborn and crunching maliciously on his green beans like they had personally offended him. If he wasn’t careful, the little shit would report back to Duke. And then Junior would really complain about overhearing them.
Instead, he said, “What do you think about taking a vacation? Maybe we could all take our bikes. Go to Canada. Get some fresh air when the weather is nicer.” It was something he’d been thinking about for a little while. He was tired—exhausted—and it had been nearly ten years since his last vacation. They’d taken Junior on a road trip to the Keys. He was due for a bit of a break.
Robby knew he was in trouble by the way Junior was staring at him. When he cared a little too much, he tended to look displeased rather than concerned. He dug his heel into Robby’s thigh. “Been a while since we went on vacation,” he conceded. “I think when you and dad went on your honeymoon.”
“Yeah.”
“Opposite direction.” Junior bobbed his head. “Nice. Talk to dad about it?”
“Sorta. He doesn’t want to get a passport.”
Junior rolled his eyes. “I’ll talk to him—”
The door clanged open. Robby startled, nearly upsetting his Diet Coke bottle as Princess stumbled in. Her mouth hung open in shock. “Mark was right. You do have a friend!”
Robby rolled his eyes, fond despite the anxiety clamping down on his sternum. “Of course I have friends.”
“Well, how would I know—”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Junior interrupted, all sickly sweet with a winning smile that made Princess melt. “My dad told me I’m not allowed to leave until he finishes, and I have a hot date to get to this afternoon, if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Robby popped an eyebrow up. “Since when are you having sex?”
It was Junior’s turn to roll his eyes. “I have a boyfriend,” he said, like Robby should have connected the dots.
Robby did not want to connect the dots. He pulled a face. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“You asked.”
That he had. Didn’t mean he had to like it.
From the door, Princess laughed. “You owe me!” she called out as she pulled the door closed. For what, Robby hadn't the foggiest. Whatever. He would deal with it later if it ever cropped up again.
Robby sighed, rubbing his temples. Fuck, he was so tired. Across from him, Junior laughed. “Yeah, I’ll convince dad to let you take us to Canada. Now eat.”
“Pain in my ass,” Robby grumbled, fond as he ever was when his kid sassed him.
Junior just grinned.