Work Text:
2003
The babysitting started as a favour. Caroline was a nice lady who'd come into the hospital once with a cut down her palm and a clear case of exhaustion. Robby had put her on a banana bag, sat her down for sutures and asked her if she'd cut herself because she was so tired.
"I don't know," she'd sighed. "I'm working two jobs, and my little boy barely sees me as it is. I was just trying to get him breakfast and I was already running late, and … "
She trailed off, like finishing the sentence was more energy than she had. It was rough, watching her. Robby was still only a resident, albeit a senior one, and he wasn't inured to the ways the world ground people down yet.
"What's your son's name?" he'd asked, trying to use the training he'd been given. Focus on the positive, something specific.
"Dennis," she answered, and her face lit up. The exhaustion fell away and there was only fond love. "He's three. God, he's so full of energy. All the time, I can't keep up. He's wonderful, don't get me wrong, I just - feel like I don't do enough for him."
"I'm sure you do," Robby had tried to soothe, though really, he had no idea. But she seemed kind. Like her heart was in the right place. She clearly loved the kid. "Do you have anyone you can ask for help looking after him? While you're working?"
He had learned by now that suggesting cutting back on work just pissed people off. If someone's working two jobs, they're doing it because they have to, not because they want to.
She shook her head.
"My folks are gone. His Dad was never in the picture. It's just the two of us."
She sounded sad. Overwhelmed. It reminded him of being passed from aunt to aunt, sitting on various uncle's laps while they smoked and talked. His Bubbe picking him up from a dozen friend's houses. Feeling simultaneously like he had a huge family and like he had none at all. Because his mother was nowhere to be found.
"Well," he found himself saying. "Maybe I could help."
She'd looked at him skeptically, but said nothing.
"I get days off. So does my partner. We could look after your kid for a while," he'd offered, and it was a strange offer, he knew, from this young doctor who was only there to stitch up her hand. But that feeling of - I want my Mom and she's not here. It's sitting in his chest.
She blinked.
"That's … very kind. But I can't pay you. Trust me, if I could afford a babysitter, I'd have one," she hedged.
He shrugged.
"We do fine. Hanging out with a little kid for a few hours is hardly work. I love kids," he pressed. It's true, he does love kids. He's a natural with them. He never had siblings, and he longed for them.
She hesitated. But he could see the lines of deep exhaustion, of hours spent wanting more for her son, written all over her face.
"Well, I … I'd have to meet your partner, make sure she's as nice as you are," she said finally.
Ah.
Robby had cleared his throat, uncomfortable. Coming out back then - not as easy as it is now.
"He, actually," he forced himself to say. If he wanted to babysit her kid, she had a right to know. At the very least, for his own safety.
Her face barely changed. A flicker of surprise, and then nothing.
"He, then," she'd corrected, as if it were nothing. "This is very nice of you, honey. Don't you have crazy doctor hours?"
He liked her already. Not many people were as chilled out about him having a boyfriend.
"A bit, but, I never do anything productive with my time off, anyway. This'll be good practice for my pedes rotation," he'd grinned.
He'd already done his pedes rotation, but she didn't know that.
Jack was every bit as charming as he always was, especially back then. She'd agreed within minutes of meeting him.
Later, at home, Jack was a little less enthused.
"You seriously signed us up for babysitting a random woman's kid?" he'd asked, attention half on the new game he'd bought, some first-person shooter that Robby saw no appeal in, Halo something, and half on him. "We barely get time off together as it is."
Robby couldn't find the words to explain why he needed this. The ache inside him that never quite went away when he thought about his mother. About the idea of this little kid, lonely.
"I just think it's a nice thing to do," he'd answered, and there must have been something in his voice that made Jack pause the game and look over at him.
"You trying to get us to practice for our own?" he'd asked, quirking a brow and smirking. He might have looked like he was joking, but Robby could see the seriousness underneath.
"Maybe," he answered, flushing. "One day."
Jack had fucked him into their shitty, spring-filled mattress hard that night.
When they meet the kid, Robby's instantly smitten. He's adorable. All golden floppy curls and big blue eyes. He's still small enough that he trips over his feet sometimes, when he's trying to move too fast.
"Den," Caroline says, herding him away from his plastic farm animal set. "I want you to meet some new friends. This is Robby, and Jack. They're gonna look after you while I'm at work."
Dennis looks up at them with suspicious eyes. Smart kid.
"What about Mrs. B?" he says to Caroline, though he's still eyeing the two of them.
"Next door neighbour. She's been keeping an eye on him for me, but, she's older," Caroline explains in an undertone. "You'll still see her, Den, but today, you're gonna hang out with Jack and Robby. Okay?"
He thinks about it very hard, his brow furrowing.
"Okay," he decides finally. "Don't like her cookies anyway. Raisin. Bleugh."
Jack laughs aloud.
"With you there, kid. Choc chip or bust."
Dennis grins, a wide little beam that takes up his whole face, and that's it, they're both hooked.
"Will - will you give me choc chip cookies?" Dennis asks Jack, eager.
"Dennis," Caroline scolds. "It's not polite to make demands."
"I wasn't!" he protests, outraged. He's got a pretty good vocab for a kid his age. Nearly four, but still. Robby's impressed. "I asked."
"It's fine," Jack reassures. "If we have fun together, next time I can bring some."
Robby has to hide his smirk. Jack's a fucking master manipulator. Knows people inside and out. He was always going to be good with kids, knowing how to dangle the promise of a next time with an incentive.
Caroline leaves them together, thanking them both profusely, and kissing Dennis on the head before she goes.
"You be good, okay?"
Dennis sits on the ground, watching them both, eagle-eyed.
"So, Dennis," Robby says, warm. "What do you wanna do today?"
The kid looks between him and Jack, considering.
"Playground," he says firmly.
Well, that's achievable.
"Sure, we can - "
"And ice cream," Dennis adds.
Jack's face twitches.
"Well, maybe, if - "
"And I wanna pet a DOG."
Jack bursts out laughing, like he can't help himself.
"We have a tiny dictator, Rob," he says, and little Dennis scowls up at them.
"I'm not a - a - dic - "
Robby elbows Jack hard.
"Dictator, honey," he says. "It's someone who tells other people what to do and doesn't care if they don't wanna do it. I don't think that sounds like you, does it?"
Dennis thinks about it, and shakes his head.
"You wanna go on the swings and eat ice cream and pet a dog, right?" he says finally, and Jack's shoulders shake with silent laughter.
They're going to have their hands full.
Over the months, Dennis does warm up to them. It probably helps that they're not awesome at saying no to him.
He wants popcorn while they watch their movie? They make popcorn.
He wants to stay out in the freezing cold running around in circles and making himself dizzy? Well, they like watching him fall over and laugh.
He wants to curl up in Robby's lap for his nap instead of going to bed like he's supposed to? Robby opens up his arms and lets Jack tease him about being a soft Daddy.
Gradually, every day off they get becomes a Dennis day. Caroline adores them. She still can't pay them, but, Robby wouldn't accept money for this anyway. Looking after Dennis is his favourite part of the week.
"He just would not sleep the other night," Caroline tells them, insisting on making them dinner for their efforts, at least. She's a good cook. He'll take it. "Kept screaming at me for the 'pretty song, Mama.' I had no idea what he was talking about."
Robby flushes.
"Uh," he says, and Jack smirks. "I think that might be my fault. I've been teaching him old lullabies my Bubbe used to sing me. They're Yiddish. Den doesn't even know the words, he just. I think he likes the melody."
Caroline's face melts into understanding, and then fondness.
"Well, that makes sense now," she laughs. "He kept trying to sing this gibberish at me, I thought he was regressing! It was just - Yiddish, I suppose?"
Robby imagines Dennis trying to sing the words that have been passed down through generations, and he has to hide his face.
It would be fair to say that they've both fallen entirely for this kid.
Jack will see a toy he thinks Dennis will like in the grocery store and silently put it in the cart.
Dennis mentions a passing interest in something - one week the stars, another week dinosaurs - and Robby will buy a stack of books on the subject for him. Sit on the floor cross-legged with him and leaf through the pages, pointing out things he finds interesting, explaining some of the bigger concepts.
The photos Jack takes of them all are printed at Walgreens and pasted up around their shitty apartment. Photos of Jack with Dennis on his shoulders are all over the fridge, photos of Robby carefully explaining how to bake cookies, a wooden spoon in hand, they're on the bathroom mirror.
About a year into their babysitting gig, which they've slowly started to think of as having their kid, Robby has a scared five year old in his exam room. She's swallowed several coins, and god knows what else.
"Don't wanna!" she's insisting, refusing to cooperate for an x-ray. Her arms are crossed and her lip is wobbling.
"I know it's scary," he says, soothing and sensible. Her parents are watching him, rapt. "The machine is really big, and it makes some weird noises. But, we really need to make sure everything's okay in your tummy, or you could get sick."
She falters, but her arms stay crossed.
"Okay, how about this? When my little boy is scared, I always promise that if he's very brave, he can whatever kind of treat he wants after. What kind of treat do you think you might want?" he asks, shooting a glance at the Mom. She nods encouragingly.
"Ummmm," she deliberates. "Red Vines!"
Something she's usually not allowed, he's betting.
"Okay," he says. "If you come and do the x-ray with me, I bet I can find you some Red Vines."
She goes without a word of protest.
"That was amazing," her father murmurs. "She's a stubborn little mule. You must be a good father."
Robby ignores the jolt of pride and delight.
"Well, just glad we sorted it out."
He hasn't noticed Jack leaning in the doorway, listening in.
Later, Jack wraps his arms around his waist from behind, while Robby's in their kitchen.
"Your little boy, huh?" he purrs, and Robby startles.
"Jesus, Jack," he swears. "Holding a knife here."
"You're fine," Jack dismisses. "Heard you earlier, with that kid. You sounded like Dana when she's talking about her kids."
Robby's glad Jack can't see his face.
"You got a point?" he says, rough.
Jack presses a kiss to his neck, hot breath lingering.
"S'hot, seeing you be a Daddy, that's all," he replies, low. "Makes me wonder what you'd be like with our kids."
Robby's stomach twists, and he can't make himself turn to meet Jack's eyes.
"He is our kid," he manages.
Jack's quiet for a long moment.
"Yeah," he murmurs. "But he won't be forever, you know that, Rob. He's Caroline's. We're gonna have to start working PGY hours, and, he's gonna get too big to need us."
It's a thought Robby's had before, and has pushed it down. It makes his chest hurt.
"I don't wanna give him up," he admits, very quiet.
Jack's arms squeeze around him, and fuck, thank God his boyfriend understands.
When the time comes, it nearly kills the both of them. They've been trying to draw it out, squeeze in as much time with Dennis in their increasingly limited free time. But Robby gets busier and busier with work, and Jack starts taking on night shifts for the extra loading. Finds he likes it.
And the time they have together shrinks. The time they have for Dennis vanishes.
Caroline understands, of course she does. They've been looking after Dennis for coming on two years now, longer than she could ever have asked for, or imagined. She thanked them over and over, tried to reassure them that Dennis would be okay.
She didn't tell them that Dennis asked for Jack and Robby every night for months. Wanted to know where they'd gone, why they didn't like him anymore. That he refused to go to bed, demanding they come back and read him to sleep.
She didn't tell them that after those few months, her little boy had changed. Become quieter. Less willing to make demands, requests, for things he wanted. He was obedient, and he was sweet, but he was never quite the same.
She didn't tell them, because it would only hurt everyone.