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Jack and Robby organized the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center recreational kickball team out of spite. Upper management had decided team bonding was lacking, and somehow that had become the attendings’ problem. So Jack and Robby started a recreational kickball team with pickup practices and, unofficially, full contact. According to Jack, he discouraged tackling, but if it was the difference between winning and losing, he wasn’t going to stop it.
The Pittsburgh Fire Department was currently kicking their asses.
Robby sipped from his water bottle from the sidelines, half watching the game while he dug through the massive duffle he and Jack had thrown together that morning. Shoes, spare clothes, loose snacks, someone’s hoodie. They had offered to carpool with Trinity and Dennis, making the bag fuller than normal, Jack had even opted for their extra large one. Eventually he found a crushed granola bar and ripped it open.
Pittsburgh Fire scored again.
The sun was brutal. Robby had spent most of the game hyper vigilant for dehydration and heat exhaustion instead of actually watching the score. Jack, on the other hand, was fully committed to winning. He rallied the team with enough enthusiasm to rival the Super Bowl.
Jack moved toward the kicking line breathing hard, bending to stretch his hands toward his toes.
“Relax a little, you’re going to overheat.” Robby slid up behind him and rested a hand against his sweaty back.
“I will, I promise. I’m taking it easy.”
As he said it, he stepped up to the plate. The smooth pitch let Jack launch the kickball deep into left field, and he immediately took off toward first base like it was the sole purpose of his existence.
“So much for taking it easy,” Robby muttered.
Beside him, Trinity laughed despite herself. “Where does he get the energy?”
Robby shrugged. “He’ll sleep well tonight at least.”
Dennis snorted from home plate just before the next pitch rolled in crooked. He kicked anyway, sending the ball bouncing haphazardly across the field.
Forced off first, Jack veered toward second and narrowly avoided the medic guarding the base. Against his better judgment, he threw himself into a slide, skidding hard across the dirt on his stomach.
He hissed through his teeth as he pushed himself upright, brushing dirt from the front of his shirt and gym shorts.
His right thigh ached as he stood.
Jack shook the prosthetic slightly, watching dirt scatter from the metal and carbon fiber. He tried to pull in another deep breath and couldn’t quite get enough air. He bent forward, hands braced on his knees, trying again.
“You okay, man?”
Bosco. One of the fire department medics.
Jack nodded without looking up. “Think I knocked the air out of my chest.” The words came out broken apart by rough breaths, stunted.
He took one stumbling step before Bosco caught him by the hips and helped guide him down to the ground.
“Can I get some help over here?”
Robby’s head snapped toward the field. He caught sight of Jack on the ground.
He shoved through the growing crowd around second base, using his size to shoulder people back. “Move, move.”
Robby dropped hard to his knees in front of Jack, hands immediately going to his face. “What’s wrong? Is it your leg?”
There was no obvious deformity. No blood that he could see.
“I don’t know,” Jack wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”
His hand searched blindly until it caught in the front of Robby’s shirt. Robby ran his hands quickly over Jack’s side and hip, searching for something he’d missed. A sharp prick nicked his palm. A bee stinger jutted from the skin near the edge of Jack’s right hip.
“You got stung by a bee.” He fought to keep his voice level as he looked over his shoulder. “Santos, grab my duffle bag. His EpiPen’s in there.”
She bolted immediately, digging frantically through the bag. “It’s not here!”
Jack’s grip tightened weakly against Robby’s shirt. “Other bag at home,” he forced out. His hands clawed at his own chest.
“Can you swallow for me?”
Jack tried. Robby watched his throat work weakly around the motion.
“Did you already call 911?” Robby demanded. A firefighter nearby nodded immediately.
“Does anyone have an EpiPen?”
“Yeah.” Someone held one out. “Expired though.”
“That’ll do.” Robby uncapped it with shaking hands, nearly dropping it before jamming it hard into Jack’s thigh. A struggling gasp was the only indication Jack felt it.
Firefighters started forcing the crowd back while another moved toward the road to flag down the ambulance.
“Okay,” Robby said quietly, one arm braced behind Jack’s back. “They’re coming. You’re okay. Stay with me.”
Jack leaned forward with his elbows digging into his knees, fighting for every breath.
“Your lips are getting puffy,” Trinity said, pulling the water bottle away before Jack could drink. “Don’t.”
“Jack.” Robby moved around to look directly at him. “Are you feeling any better?”
Jack’s eyes looked glossy and unfocused. His breathing was still ragged. Sweat was dripping down his temple. The ambulance appeared seconds later. One of the EMTs jogged toward them with another EpiPen already in hand.
“Epi at 2:47,” Robby supplied automatically as he moved aside.
The paramedic pressed the injector into Jack’s thigh. He flinched sharply.
“Dr. Abbot, we got you.” Medic O’Neil clipped a pulse ox onto his finger before glancing up at Robby. “Dr. Robby, you want a ride?”
The medics rolled Jack onto the stretcher, strapped him down, and wheeled him toward the waiting ambulance.
“No, you go ahead.” Robby caught Jack’s hand briefly before they loaded him in. “I’m right behind you.”
Trinity noticed Robby’s unsteady legs before he did.
“I’m driving,” she announced, already grabbing his keys. Dennis guided Robby toward the passenger seat while the ambulance doors slammed shut ahead of them.
✦ ✦ ✦
Inside the ambulance, O’Neil and Nguyen struggled to keep Jack still. The second Nguyen started cutting through his shirt, Jack’s hand shot out and caught her wrist. O’Neil grabbed his other arm before he could tear the oxygen mask away from his face.
“Dr. Abbot, I know you’re scared right now, but I need you to stay still.” She forced his hand back down and adjusted the mask while Nguyen resumed cutting away the shirt.
“See the belly breathing?” O’Neil said quietly to her partner. “That’s not good.”
Nguyen glanced toward Jack’s prosthetic. “Do we need to take off the leg?”
Jack immediately twisted against the straps.
If they thought he’d been strong before, they were about to see a whole new world. One hand clawed toward the prosthetic while the other ripped at the oxygen mask.
“Alright, Dr. Abbot,” O’Neil muttered, reaching for the soft restraints. “I think you’ve had enough epi for one afternoon.”
“Is he normally like this?” Nguyen asked from where she struggled to keep his legs down.
“It’s the epi talking, it gave him an adrenaline spike.”
✦ ✦ ✦
“Robby.”
No response.
“Robby.”
Dennis exchanged a worried look with Trinity. They’d been parked outside PTMC for almost a full minute, but Robby still stared blankly through the windshield.
“I cannot lose both attendings,” Trinity muttered. “Dana will kill us.”
She leaned over the console and tapped him lightly on the cheek. “Hey. We’re here.”
Robby blinked hard like he’d just surfaced underwater.
He fumbled uselessly with the seatbelt until Dennis leaned over and clicked it free for him.
The three of them crossed through the ambulance bay still wearing their kickball clothes, sweat dried stiff against their skin.
Robby’s attention locked immediately onto Trauma 2.
He pushed through the doors without waiting for the others.
“Robby, you can’t be in here.”
Frank stood at the head of the bed. Jack wasn’t moving.
“Did you sedate him?” Robby demanded, already moving closer. “You can’t do that to an anaphylactic patient.”
“Yes, I can,” Frank replied evenly. “Especially if I need him down for intubation.” He pulled the laryngoscope closer without taking his eyes off Jack.
Robby’s gaze snapped to the monitor. “He’s not hypoxic yet, did—”
“Robby.” Frank finally looked at him. “You are not running this code. I am.”
The room went painfully quiet around them. The nurses glanced nervously between the two of them.
“You shouldn’t even be in here, man.”
Robby stood frozen for one more second before backing out of the trauma bay on numb legs.
✦ ✦ ✦
Jack was extubated several hours later. Frank ran a heavy dose of steroids and antihistamines through his system and was satisfied to see his vitals come up.
He slowly came up from the sedation, the lights were dim in his room. Weakly, he pushed the call button. His throat was sore and his mouth was dry. He was so tired and yet his body felt jittery.
“Abbot! You’re awake.” Dana came to his side, her smile comforting. “You gave us a scare.” Her hand went affectionately to his face.
“I-I want…” he struggled with his words. “Water.”
“How’s your breathing?” Dana picked up an ice chip from the small table next to his bed.
“Good. Better.” He let her place the ice on his tongue before sucking on it slowly.
“You better not choke, Robby will hand me my badge and ass.” Dana joked. Jack smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Where is he?”Jack lifted himself up, sitting up slightly.
“Probably buying stock in EpiPens.” Dana checked his vitals and adjusted his nasal cannula slightly. “He was just here, I’m sure he’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
Jack closed his eyes. He was just so tired.
✦ ✦ ✦
The next time Jack woke up, he could hear hurried whispers, passionately going back and forth.
“Stop yelling.” Jack rubbed his eyes and opened them to see Robby and Frank.
“Hey, Jack, how are you feeling?” Frank came up to him, he pulled his stethoscope off his neck and listened to his lungs.
“Tired. I want to go home.” He held out his hand to Robby, who relented and held it.
“Couple more hours of observation, and we’ll get you out of here. I think one more dose of steroids and then we’ll send you home on a taper.” Frank ended abruptly. “Let me give you guys some space.”
Robby was silent for what felt like a lifetime. He just kept running his thumb over Jack’s hand. He pressed deeply into the wrist, checking for a pulse.
“Did we win the game?” Jack smiled. Robby let out a laugh he didn’t even know he had in him.
“No, we’re dog shit. Our best kicker almost died.” Robby’s expression sobered up quickly. “His husband almost killed him.”
“I didn’t realize you spent your free time training bees to sting me.” Jack mused. Robby let go of his hand and took a step away.
“It’s not funny, Jack.” Robby turned away so he wasn’t facing Jack anymore. “You could’ve died and it would’ve been my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, I forgot it too.” Jack tried knowing it was falling on deaf ears. “Robby, come here.”
Robby didn’t turn around, he looked at the very generous gift basket the Pittsburgh Fire Department dropped off. In another timeline it would have been the condolence basket at Jack’s funeral.
“Robby.” This time he said it harder. Robby returned to his bedside.
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” He let their fingers intertwine.
“I’m sorry for how insufferable I’m going to be the next couple of weeks. You’re not going to be able to blink without me on top of you.” Robby caved. He couldn’t stay sad when his favorite person in the world was smiling at him like that.
“I like the stuffed bee, it’s cute.” Jack grinned. Robby picked it up and brought it to Jack’s waiting and open arms. He had bought it at the gift shop less than half an hour ago.