Chapter Text
Jack knew something was wrong before Robby had to say a thing.He had only looked at his husband once and was already convinced that he needed to treat him with extra care right now.
Getting up seemed harder than usual this morning, his poor Partner just starring at the ceiling without moving before being gently sat up in bed by Jack. Getting dressed Was easier once he got into the bathroom - eventually. Jack suspected it was just a bad depression day, but soon he felt that this was something worse - maybe even something new.
Robby stood in the kitchen with him, a rare occasion where they both got ready for day shift, and he had that glazed over, hazy look in his eyes.
"Mike?" Jack asks carefully, but Robby doesn't react. He's far, far away, just watching the coffee machine brew. Jack carefully laid a hand on Robbys shoulder - this wasn't the first time that Robby seemed so far away from him, but it's been getting more frequent and intense. Especially after hard shifts or before something big, when anxiety was high. But brewing a coffee for a mundane day at the Pitt? Shouldn't make a seasoned ER attending dissociate like this, especially not his partner, who's supposed to be on medication to avoid moments like these.
"Robby, did you take your meds recently?" Jack tried gently, steering Robbys shoulder to the chair, softly massaging his hand with the other, hoping to ground his husband. Robby just hummed, not really listening. His brain feels like it's stuffed with cotten, his eyes burn from not blinking and he can barely register where he is but at least he knows he's with Jack so he should be alright. It takes a few minutes, which feel like hours for both of them, but eventually Robby blinks, a bit more alert.
"Hey.. there you are" Jack says softly, keeping the massaging up, kneeling before his husband, an open vial - probably amonia smelling salt - infront of Robbys nose. When did he get that? What were they doing in the kitchen? What time was it? Robbys breathing turned a bit uneven - he was late. and Jack looked so worried and he felt terrible- what the hell happened? Suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to move, he got up quickly only to be pushed back down gently by his husband. "woah- woah Robby, stay down a Minute you just dissociated for twenty minutes, give yourself some time to-" Jack tried gently but Robby doesn't hear him. "we're late" he just says, standing up again, walking away to the coffee cup he went to fill earlier - wait, why is it cold now? Jack turns robby back to him, both hands on his husbands shoulder, clearly worried.
"Robby, you are confused right now, take a deep breath"
"I was just making coffee-"
"Robby-"
"We are going to be late! What time is it? My entire routine is off now, what the fuck-"
"Michael!"
"My routine, Jack, you know i need it!" Robby looks up, halting in his step. When did he start pacing? His chest hurt. Was he breathing wrong?
"You are not going to work." Jack said, matter of factly. Robby looked back, dumbfounded. Jack didn't soften his tone but laid a cold hand on his neck to stear him back to a chair.
"You are sitting down, taking a deep breath and drinking some water. Then you tell me what happened. That's your routine right now" he says sternly. Robby doesn't awnser but lets himself be sat down in a chair, and drinks the water given to him with both of his rather shaky hands. Jack knows, that when his husband is this deep in his head, he has to be stern to get through to him.
After a while, Robby spoke up. "i..just kinda got lost in here" he says, shakily tapping at his temple. Jack stays silent, waiting. "I'm exhausted" Robby said, like it was a question. "I mean i know i just got up from a full nights sleep- but i'm just so..bone deep tiered. no matter how much i sleep" robby rubs his neck nervously. "now i know it sounds like, well.."
"Your depression getting worse" Jack supplies calmly
"Yeah, but i'm sure it's fine, maybe i'm just getting the flu"
"Okay" Jack says slowly. "What are the symptoms of a flu, besides exhaustion?"he prompts.
"Fever, severe body aches, a cough,.."
"And do you have anything like that?" Jack asks softly, already knowing the awnser.
"no, but-"
"any other physical symptoms?"
"loss of apetite, headache,.."
"which can also be explained by.."
"a lot of things!"
"including depression" Jack says softly.
Robby stays silent for a while.
"Alright. So what?" he scoffs, standing up again - Jack doesn't push him to sit this time, just watching his husband pace.
"you want to up the meds again?" Jack offers.
"They make me too floaty to work"
"Then go to therapy again-"
"I go regulary-"
"More than 4 times a year, Michael" Jack says, a bit sterner now.
"I don't like her. She's patronizing"
"Doctor Gant is a good therapist, you just never see her. She barely knows you, just writes you your prescription."
"i don't need her for more than that-"
"you have diagnosed depression-"
"funcioning depression" Robby corrects.
"are you? functioning?" Jack says, stern again.
Robby stays silent.
"I'll call her" he says after a while.
Jack nods, knowing not to push him even more.
Maybe he should have.