Archive of Our Own

i love you

Montgomery Adamson died on September 5th in 2020. There were clouds in the sky, but no rain. It felt wrong to have lost someone so monumental on a day that didn’t cry. The pandemic took people from everyone. Robby had to make the call many times when one person wasn’t progressing, showing no signs of waking up. Those were some of the worst days of his life. Being the one to have to choose Adamson’s death day had to be in the top three.

Adamson stood in front of Robby now. In their hospital. Empty halls, just the two of them. Robby didn’t know what to do. How to react. Adamson had the same smile on his face he usually held when he saw Robby. The only times Adamson didn’t have that smile on first sight with Robby were when things were bad in The Pitt.

Robby relaxed at the sight of the familiar smile.

“Adamson,” he breathed.

“Doctor Robinavitch.” Adamson said. He always took care to call Robby by his full name no matter how many times Robby said he didn’t mind. It felt like home to hear his name from this mans lips. He wanted to hug him and sink into it and never let him go. They were close, but they never had that kind of bond.

It was one of the reasons Robby was that way with Jack. He never knew when one hug would be the last. He didn’t get it with his mentor, he’d damn well get it with his best friend.

“I don’t understand,” Robby said, “You’re not…”

“It’s alright, Robinavtich,” Adamson said, “You don’t have to understand.”

“I was… I shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re right where you need to be.” Everything felt off-kilter. Something had happened. The hospital was empty. Robby had been…going somewhere. But Adamson looked calm.

Very calm.

Robby trusted the man. He followed when Adamson tilted his head and started walking down the hall.

They went in circles for a while. Neither of them spoke, just existing in each others orbit. It was nice. They never really got these quiet moments together. Even after shifts had most of day shift on the bench outside at the park with each other. Robby hoped they had more time like this.

Eventually, they came to a stop outside West 13. The door was closed and the curtains were drawn. Robby frowned. All the other rooms they passed had the doors wide open and curtains pulled back. He wanted to reach for the handle. Adamson blocked the way.

“Let’s stay out here for a while,” Adamson said. Robby stared at the blocked window over Adamson’s shoulder. “Give them some time.”

“Give who time?” Robby asked. There was something in there he needed to see. Something pulled at him to go inside and know what was in there.

“Just let them take care of it for a little longer.” Robby found himself nodding. He didn’t know why they’d stopped if Adamson wanted to wait longer. He trusted the man. “You’ve become quite the leader.” Robby scoffed at that. He thought about everything he’d done in the last five years. How he’d ran the department after Adamson’s death those first few months. Every mistake he made. Every blot on someone else’s life.

Langdon had been driven to drugs. Robby couldn’t help but feel he played some part in that. Would he do the same to Whitaker? To anyone else he took under his wing? Adamson had been a paragon of good. He knew how to talk to people and how to pull them from the ledge. The only thing Robby seemed good at was sending people there. Even himself.

That last thought had something pulling at the back of his mind. Something bright and loud. Robby shook his head as Adamson started talking again.

“You think I haven’t made mistakes?” he said, as if reading Robby’s mind. Robby bit back a harsh laugh. “There are many people around today who hate my guts. I know it’s not something you believe, but it’s true. Patients, doctors, nurses. I’ve messed up plenty of times. I still messed up when we met. I just got better at fixing my mistakes.”

“It’s been five years. You’d think I’d have a handle on things by now.” Robby said. Sure, it didn’t feel like long, but those years left an impact on so many lives. Students, residents, people who looked up to him for answers. He didn’t always have them.

“Kid, it took me over a decade before I felt like I had a handle on things.”

“You were running the department for six years when I met you?”

“I know.” Adamson had a smile on his face as he said it. Before Robby could think on that bit of information further, Adamson stepped to the side. “I think they’re ready for you.”

The door didn’t look so inviting anymore. Something curled in Robby’s gut. He wasn’t sure opening the door was the best idea anymore. It had pulled him to it earlier, but now he wanted to stay out here. With Adamson. His breathing stuttered as he stepped forward.

“You’ll come in with me?” Robby asked. He stared at the handle as he asked, not wanting to meet Adamson’s gaze.

“Of course,” he said, “I’ll stay with you as long as I can.” Robby finally reached forward to open the door and push in.

Perlah was there, fiddling with the tubes and wires connected to the patient, making sure they’re comfortable. Her lips moved but Robby couldn’t hear anything she said. He frowned and tried to concentrate harder, but still nothing. He stepped further, still not looking at the patient. Instead, he waved a hand in front of Perlah, just to see if she’d react. She hadn’t reacted to the door opening and didn’t react again.

Finally, Robby dropped his gaze to the bed.

He stumbled back, legs hitting a chair and forcing him to sit. He stared at… himself. Eyes closed, tube in his throat, blankets pulled up as if trying to keep him warm and comfortable. Road rash covered his face and down his neck. If he could see more, he knew it would follow. His left arm was in a sling. The other looked just as damaged as the right side of his face. The gravel would need to be picked out meticulously.

Robby wondered what his legs looked like.

“That’s me,” he whispered.

“It’s you.” Adamson answered. It made the fact sink into Robby. That was him on the bed. Him asleep.

That loud and bright thing from earlier blared in his mind.

“I was… I was leaving.” he started. It hurt to think about, but he pushed through it anyway. “I got on my bike and started driving. Dana tried…She said Jane Doe still needed someone to take her and I laughed her off. I didn’t even make it a mile and…”

“You drifted.” Adamson picked up. Robby could barely remember this. He wasn’t sure he really did. “Riding after a fifteen hour shift, and you drifted. The other driver wasn’t paying attention to the road because of the fireworks.”

“The driver—are they—?” Robby looked away from his prone form. He needed to know if the other person was okay. If they made it or if they were yet another death on a holiday about celebration.

“She’s in better shape than you.” Robby nodded and leaned back in the chair. At some point, Perlah had left. She had more patients to take care of, that made sense. He stared at his vitals, stable, but didn’t hear any of the machinery around him.

Adamson sat in the chair next to him. He rested a hand on Robby’s knee, patting it like he did after a hard case. Robby let out a long breath crossing his arms.

“This wasn’t the plan,” he said. Things were easier with Adamson around. “I didn’t have a plan. Not really.”

“Abbot seemed to think you did,” Adamson said. Robby winced. He’d omitted things to Jack. Refused to say anything because if he said anything to Jack, he’d have a reason to say. Jack would find one. Would make one and Robby didn’t know if he could handle it and the work it would take. It was easier to just drive off a cliff in a country he’d never been in.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” Robby said. There were no tears this time he confessed. He didn’t like people seeing him like that. This time, it was a fact. Duke had been told it while he’d been emotionally vulnerable.

He supposed he should be emotionally vulnerable seeing himself on the bed. He just felt…numb. Like he did on those days he didn’t work and didn’t know what else to do with his life. Saving people was what he did.

“Michael,” Adamson sighed, “This world will throw so many things at you. You’re carrying an enormous weight. Who have you asked to carry it with you?” Robby laughed. He buried his face in his hands and Adamson patted his knee again.

“None of them should have to. I’m a mess.” Robby’s words came out muffled, but Adamson must have heard them.

“You helped Abbot with his weight. Santos with hers. Why are you the exception?”

“Because—” Robby didn’t have an answer. Those cases were different. They needed someone to help them walk. Robby needed someone to help him stand. Those were very different cases and while he knew if someone were in his shoes, he’d want to help them, he couldn’t imagine anyone doing the same for him. He refused to. It hurt too much to think about what could happen if he tried to ask.

“That Whitaker kid helped you and you didn’t even have to ask,” Adamson said, “Why can’t you believe others want to help?”

“I don’t know.” Robby sat up again, shaking his head. He rubbed his hands against his pants.

They fell into the easy quiet again. It gave Robby a minute to study himself. Being on this end never felt good. Not as the patient, although that’s what he was now, but as the family member. Or loved one. Either way, even as a doctor, he hated this part.

Waiting for answers. Knowing they were doing what they could, knowing they were overworked and underpaid and stressed, and knowing sometimes there wouldn’t be an answer. He hoped they weren’t focusing too hard on him. Other patients deserved their attention more.

“You are loved, Michael,” Adamson said, “I love you.”

“You’re dead.” Robby said. His vision blurred. Maybe he’d be dead soon, too. “For what it’s worth, I still love you.”

“You think I can’t still love you? You’re still wearing your Star.” Robby laughed, his hand reaching up to clutch at the pendant. He still wore it, still thought something in him believed.

“I don’t know what I think anymore,” Robby said, “I think…I lost a lot of myself when you died.” Adamson hummed and patted Robby’s knee for a third time. Robby’s chest twisted at the action. He didn’t want Adamson to go.

“I think there’s still a lot of you left.”

When Robby looked up, Adamson was already gone.

thank you

People came and visited him. Robby didn’t leave the room once. He couldn’t hear them, but he tried nonetheless. Whitaker, Santos, Langdon. King, and Mohan, and Dana. Everyone filtered in and out. Some only stopped by to check him over and make sure he was alright. None of them reacted to his presence.

Santos didn’t react when he laid a hand on her shoulder as she cried. Langdon didn’t move and inch when Robby tried to push him away. Dana didn’t do anything when he hugged her in the threshold of his room.

It was odd. He was so used to having complete control over the ER and now he had none. He didn’t even have control over his own care. Other people came in and did what they thought was best. While he knew they were probably right and there wasn’t always one way to do things, he still muttered about how he would have done it.

Jack visited him on the second night. For the first time, Robby heard what someone said.

“You’re supposed to wake up now,” Jack grunted as he pulled a chair up to the bedside. He gripped the railing and Robby stared. He’d gotten so used to seeing mouths moving but no sound, he thought he’d hallucinated it. Hell, this whole thing might be a hallucination. “You’re stable now, vitals all good. This is the part where you wake up, Mikey.”

“I don’t know how,” Robby said. He hoped this time someone would hear him like he heard them. No reaction. Jack just tightened his jaw and leaned against the railing.

“They wouldn’t let me work on you,” Jack said. His voice cracked. Robby stepped forward. His hand hovered over Jack’s shoulder. The man wouldn’t feel his touch. He rested his hand there anyway. “They said I was too attached. Like everyone else wasn’t also too attached. And then I couldn’t even come here in because I didn’t—” Jack choked. Robby knelt to the ground, his hand falling away from where it was on Jack’s shoulder. He grabbed Jack’s thigh instead. There were tears shining in Jack’s eyes.

“I didn’t want this to be how I saw you last,” he continued, sniffling, “I told myself when you woke up, I’d be there. But you’re not waking up, Mikey. You have to wake up, brother. I can’t do this without you.”

Robby reached forward to wipe away the tears on Jack’s cheeks. It didn’t stop their trail down his face and the next second, Jack’s own hand wiped through his. He looked back up and Robby stared at the blurry underside of Jack’s chin.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “Dana asked me to talk to you. Said something about it being healthy. Don’t know if she meant for me or you. Try not to die on me, alright? I’ll—I’ll come back later. I promise.”

Jack stood and Robby went with him. He watched Jack stare down at his unconscious form. Then he watched Jack squeeze his hand. It was awkward around the new cast they’d put on him.

“Fuck it,” Jack sighed, leaning down, “Not like you’ll know.” Robby frowned as Jack kept leaning. He was worried about the man falling over, but the next second, the confusion disappeared. He felt a tingle on his forehead at the same moment Jack pressed a kiss to his unconscious body.

Robby stared at the point of contact. Jack leaned back and just stared. Finally, he straightened and walked out of the room. Robby wanted to follow him, but when he made it to the door, Jack had disappeared into the emptiness of the rest of the hospital.

For the first time, the silence felt overwhelming.

* * *

If Robby could feel things, why hadn’t he felt anything else? Whitaker had given his shoulder a pat, Mohan had rubbed his upper arm, and before Jack kissed him, he’d grabbed Robby’s hand. The kiss was the outlier. Jack was the outlier. He couldn’t hear anyone else, either.

The moments Jack managed to steal away became the best times of Robby’s stay. He’d talk about patients and Robby would mutter differentials no one could hear. He’d listen to Jack complain about the med students on night shifts. He’d brought a few of them in to talk over care of someone in Robby’s situation. Sometimes, they’d do something that would have Jack shaking his head at Robby’s prone form as if to say “Are you seeing this?” It made Robby laugh in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

“Some people who wake up from comas say they could hear conversations around them,” Jack said, “I hope you can’t. I’ve said a few embarrassing things.”

“I just hope I remember them,” Robby said as Jack breathed. It was how he did it while trying to compose himself. When he was gearing up for something big.

They’d known each other a long time. Jack liked to say they were supposed to be childhood friends who found each other late in life. At least he said that once and Robby stuck with it. He liked the notion of it. He much preferred having found Jack later in life, though. Less of the man to taint.

Besides, growing up to fall in love with a childhood best friend was a cliche.

Robby could read between the lines well enough, over the last few days, to assume that maybe Jack felt the same.

“I just miss you, man,” Jack said. That same stuttering breath there again. Robby stood over him this time. Even if his knees didn’t ache when he got on the ground anymore, when Jack got like this he didn’t stay for longer after. Robby wanted to watch him for as long as possible. He didn’t want to miss Jack leaving like he had that first time. “Pathetic, huh? It’s been four days and I already miss your grumpy ass.”

“I miss you too,” Robby said. His own breathing shook with Jack’s. “Wish I said it more before, but hey. That’s life, right brother?”

“They want to take you up. To the ICU.” Jack lifted his head. He reached over and brushed Robby’s hair away from his eyes. As with the kiss, Robby could feel them over his own forehead. “Some people want to keep you here, but we both know you’ll get better care away from here. It might make it harder to visit you, but God knows you need out of this hellhole.”

“Don’t.” Robby stepped forward and broke his rule of not kneeling. He wanted to grab Jack’s arm and force him to look down. “C’mon, man. You can’t do that.”

“It won’t be as loud.”

“I can’t hear anything but you.”

“And you won’t be a distraction. People keeping looking in at you. I keep…” Jack sighed. Robby grabbed his hand when Jack finally stood. He thought he saw Jack’s fingers flinch against his own.

Jack leaned down and kissed Robby’s forehead again. It tingled. “In case I can’t see you for a while.” He explained. Robby stared as he watched his best friend walk away again.

* * *

The halls were empty, same as they had been when Robby first showed up in the space. He didn’t like to think of it as the Pitt. The Pitt was noisy and wrought with grief and chaos. This was the opposite. It made Robby’s skin itch.

He’d been outside, wandering the halls for hours. He left a while after Jack’s last visit. He hadn’t been back in the room although he kept feeling that pull towards it. Robby felt it every time he left the room.

Now, he wondered what would have happened if the car had just killed him. There were a lot of bad choices and actions in his life. It would be hard to get through, but Robby thought the little good he’d done in his life would help him forward. He didn’t know if he believe in gilgul, but his great-grandfather had written in his journals about it. He’d wanted to be a baker, felt like he needed to be. Robby still had his challah recipe somewhere.

When he rounded the corner, he froze. Someone was there. Someone standing in his empty space. Someone in a familiar sarafan that her sister made for her years and years ago.

“Still fits,” she’d say every time. Like she hadn’t worn it for the better part of her life. So much so the embroidery had to be redone. Robby had learned embroidery on that sarafan. He liked to say it was the reason his sutures were always so clean.

“Bubbe?” Robby asked. His voice broke. He hadn’t seen her in so long. He always said he would visit her grave, but he wasn’t sure she’d like the man he became. She turned and faced him with a smile.

“Oh, Michael,” she said, “I’ve been looking for you. You weren’t in your room.”

* * *

He didn’t want to let her go. Robby didn’t really mean to cling to her in the middle of the hall, he just hadn’t seen his grandmother in so long. She never let him go either. She held him tighter and with a strength she hadn’t had at the age she looked. Robby tried not to cry, he really did, but the tears fell and seeped into her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Robby sobbed. He didn’t know if it was for the salt in her scalp or for this being the first time he’d seen her in so long. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Michael,” she shushed him. Robby finally pulled back to look at her and memorize everything about her. He wiped at his eyes and laughed. He had so much to apologize for. He’d been a rambunctious kid and threw fits. He’d been a rebellious teenager and shouted at her for being a horrible guardian. He’d been a distant adult and called her only on the hard days.

“It’s been a while,” Robby settled on. He had to wipe at his eyes again.

“It has,” his grandmother said, “Show me around.” She held out her hand with the demand. Robby laughed and offered her his elbow which she took.

In life, Robby never let his grandmother visit the Pitt. He knew what it was like and how she’d worry about everything Robby dealt with. She always texted or emailed him some emergency or other saying something about how it must weigh on a person. Despite it, she said she was proud of him for being a healer and taking care of others.

Robby ignored the guilt in his chest as he led his grandmother around his work and explained everything. The trauma rooms and behavioral. Chairs and the waiting room. Everything. She listened patiently, patting his arm when he got choked up talking about specific cases.

When they finished, she stared up at him.

“You look old,” she said.

“I am old, bubbe,” Robby laughed, “I’m in my fifties.”

“No. Your eyes. You’ve seen so much.”

“Yeah. Yeah I have.” He cleared his throat and ducked his head. Just like always, she grabbed his chin and made him look at her. “It’s a lot. And I can’t—I don’t always have someone to carry it with me.”

“Oh, Michael.” Robby shook his head. He knew this would go the same route.Him and Adamson already had the conversation. Having it with his grandmother would only hurt more. She didn’t need to know all of it. “You think I don’t see you?”

“Bubbe—”

“I am talking.” Robby squeezed his eyes shut and she flicked his nose for it. He laughed and opened his eyes to meet hers. She always told Robby he got his grandfather’s eyes. “You need to visit more. None of this nonsense anymore. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Hm. I do not think you do, but I do think you’ll visit. Now—” she patted his arm again and started leading them away “—I think they’ve moved you.”

“Moved me?”

“Yes, yes, that Abbot boy. He helped move you.” Robby stared at her dumbfounded as they walked away from the Pitt and to the elevator. His grandmother hummed a song. It took Robby until the doors opened for him to place it as an older song she would sing to him in Hebrew when he was scared. He started humming alongside her. It earned him a smile from his grandmother as they walked to his room together.

Inside looked an awful lot quieter than it had in the ER. There was a nurse Robby didn’t recognize looking over the equipment. He left soon after into the emptiness of the hallway.

It ached to be here. He was out of the way and no longer a distraction. It made practical sense. He hadn’t woken up, the ICU had the room, and he’d receive better care. If it were his call, he’d have done the same thing. He wondered if Al-Hashimi had been pushing for him to come up since he was stable. She hadn’t visited.

“That woman is very kind,” his grandmother said.

“You know,” Robby sighed, “Adamson at least didn’t tell me he was reading my mind.”

“Not mind reading. Just observing. She waited and made sure your care was overseen by those you trusted. You should be kinder.” Robby sucked on his teeth and tried not to let those words hurt as much. His grandmother would only scold him for it. He smiled at the thought. It was the way she showed her affection.

He helped lead her to a chair and sit. He sat next to her and stared at his body.

Already, she’d stayed longer than Adamson. Robby didn’t delude himself to think she would be staying for much longer. There had to be a time limit on these things. He took a breath and shook his head and reminded himself to just be. Live in the moment.

“I love raising you,” his grandmother said, “It hurt, knowing everything my daughter went through. But I do no regret taking you in.”

“I was awful.”

“You were a child.” Robby nodded, eyes watering again. He could have been better to her during those first days when all he did was cry and ask for his mother. She never came, no matter how many voicemails his grandmother left. It never changed anything.

“Michael, would you look at me?” Robby laughed and raised his head. He met her eyes and she reached forward to dry his eyes like she’d done so many times in the past. “Thank you for being such a good grandson. For taking care of me and for trying to make me not worry. I worried anyway. It’s what parents do.”

“You shouldn’t have been my mother and grandmother.”

“And I did it anyway.”

“Thank you.” Robby sucked in a breath as he tried not to cry. He grabbed his grandmother’s wrist to press kisses to her palm. “Thank you for taking me in.”

“I would do it in a thousand life times.”

i forgive you

Two days in the ICU were spent alone with only the nurses who came in to look after him as company. As usual, Robby didn’t hear anything they said. Those were privy to only them. Part of Robby was grateful. He didn’t want to know what their bedside manners were like. Another part of him wished for something to keep him company.

The third day in the ICU, Jack visited him. Robby stood from his chair and watched Jack grab one and pull it up to him. He muttered something that Robby heard, but couldn’t decipher. He didn’t sit down, instead adjusting the pillows and blankets around Robby.

“There,” Jack said when he finished and sighed, “You looked uncomfortable.”

“I thought you gave up on me,” Robby joked. He sat on the ground, not kneeling, just crossing his legs. He doubted he’d ever be able to do it again without a groan and some pops. He wanted to watch Jack again. “Pretty sure everyone else did.”

“Everyone’s doing…” Jack sighed, “They’re alright. Some of them are a mess without you. I keep telling everyone to just focus on their work. I don’t think I’m as good at this as you are. Al-Hashimi is oddly inspiring. You should hear her speeches.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You’d probably hate that idea.” Jack laughed. Robby smiled up at him. He wished it was easier for Jack to laugh like this. His smiled crinkled the smile lines around his face and lit up his eyes. Jack’s eyes weren’t light this time.

Jack stayed for a long time. Robby didn’t know how long, but he talked to Robby about how everyone was doing. What he’d done on his days off. Apparently, not SWAT for this first time in who knew how long. He went on a walk and fixed up his old HAM radio.

It was nice to hear Jack’s voice. He wished he could steal the man away for a while and just listen.

They’d grown as fast friends. Robby’s feelings came later, after he knew Jack was married and he put those feelings in a jar. It felt bad to loosen them again after his wife died. Instead, he stayed by Jack. Helped him through his grief and encouraged him to start dating again after a while.

Maybe that had been the worst idea Robby had. A selfless act when he wanted so badly to be selfish. It felt wrong to say anything after that. So Robby didn’t.

And then he got hit by a damn car and Jack kept slipping in random sentences that made it sound like he felt the same about Robby.

“I wanted to stay,” Jack said, “After I got better and you dragged me out of that hole after Liz. I didn’t want to leave you fancy-ass brownstone.”

“You could have stayed forever, Jack,” Robby whispered.

“I didn’t want to impose. I know Liz would approve. She loved the hell out of you.”

“I loved her.” Not in the way Jack did, but they’d been so close. Always sharing looks over her husbands head when he was having a bad day and they knew they needed to work together to help. When they would soften the blow of the hard things he struggled with. When Robby would take Jack to the living room to massage his leg while Liz worked on making a meal from his old cookbook to help keep Jack from getting upset and then drowning in the guilt later.

Jack kept talking. He pulled out his phone, said something about finding Robby’s stupid playlist and touched a button. Robby assumed he’d put on music, but he couldn’t hear it. Jack stood enough to squat over Robby’s form and kiss his forehead again.

Robby had missed that touch.

“I’m just gonna rest my eyes, alright?” Jack said as he sat back down. Just a little.

Robby watched as he started to doze. A few of the songs, Jack knew. Robby’s heart lightened hearing Jack sing softly. His Hebrew could always use some work, but Robby would never tell him. He liked hearing Jack’s stumbling and wobbling laugh.

“You can sleep Jack,” Robby told him after he kept shifting, “It’s okay. I’ll watch.” As if those words were the thing he needed, Jack stilled and relaxed. Robby kept his promise.

* * *

She looked young. Robby couldn’t remember how she had looked that day in the fall when she packed up all his clothes and left him on his grandmother’s steps. There had been so much happening. He thought it was just for a visit and then she never came back.

“Why.” Robby’s voice shook as he spoke. “I don’t want to see you.”

“I know,” his mother said, “I know.”

“You fucking left me! You abandoned me and I never—” Robby’s voice broke fully. He didn’t know how to have this conversation. He imagined it over and over again. Thought about all the things he would say. Every one of those imagined conversations left his mind.

She just stood there looking as devastated as Robby felt. He felt like a kid again. Small and frail and scared. Left alone with two people he’d barely met and who were suddenly caring for him like they were his own parents.

“I hate you.” Robby spat.

“I know.” His mother wiped at her eyes. “I forgive you.”

“You say it like it’s so easy.”

“You’re my son. Of course it’s easy.” Robby sobbed. He couldn’t stop the fall to the floor and he didn’t want to. He wished his knees could feel the impact and the pain, but there was nothing. Just him on the floor of his ICU room sobbing at the vision of his mother across the room.

Robby could hear the footsteps approaching him. He couldn’t look up. He refused to look up and see her. It was what he always wanted: the comfort of his mother. Her hands ran through his hair. He felt her kiss the top of his head and hold his head in her hands even as they shook. She had to have been crying too.

“You can forgive me,” Robby managed between breaths, “But I can’t forgive you. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you.”

“Oh, Misha.” She pressed another kiss to his head. “You don’t have to.”

please forgive me

A tube invaded his throat and there were so many things attached to him. Robby tried to sit up. He opened his eyes against the beeping and the light as he tried to breathe or speak. People were talking around him, shouting really. Someone had a hand on his shoulder.

They were talking about sedating him and the beeping got louder. Robby didn’t want to be sedated. He didn’t want to fall asleep again. Hadn’t he just been asleep for a long time? Robby needed to be awake now.

“Hey! Let me through!” Jack said. Robby tried to look for him. There were too many bodies around. “FUCKING MOVE!” Jack’s face appeared between two doctors and Robby could cry. Jack shoved his way between the nurses even as they argued and tried to get him back.

“Look at me, Mikey,” Jack said instead. The growl in his voice was enough to have Robby falling back into the bed. He still wanted to pull everything out of him even if he knew that was a bad idea. “You’ve been in a coma for ten days. You need to calm the fuck down or they’ll sedate you.” Robby nodded. He squeezed his eyes closed.

With everything happening around him and the damn tube in his throat it took a while for him to fully relax. Even then, his eyes were watery and his gag reflex really wanted the tube out. Still he opened his eyes and looked at Jack.

“There you go,” Jack encouraged, “That’s better.” He looked over his shoulder. “The hell are we doing about his comfort, huh?” A few unknown faces moved around him and a few moments later, he could let the machine do the breathing without him and not gag on the tube shoved down his throat. Robby finally relaxed fully into the pillows behind him. His arm tried to move up, but it felt heavy.

Jack still saw. Jack still took his hand.

“I’m right here, brother,” he said. Robby shuddered and nodded. He still had Jack.

* * *

Robby had to stay for another two days in the hospital after he woke up. They took the tube out after only eight hours and Jack stayed the whole time. He stayed after, too, when Robby needed to take extended time from his sabbatical for physical therapy and follow ups. No surgery had been needed and Robby considered himself lucky. Jack called it a miracle. The road rash left scars all down the right side of his body, but they healed well. Not like Robby didn’t have hundreds of little scars from his time being alive.

Robby told Jack over and over he really didn’t remember anything from when he’d been out. He did remember Jack visiting, just not anything he’d said during those visits.

“Aw, just me?” Jack joked.

“Did other people visit me?” Robby asked with a frown. Jack sobered up at the question.

“Yeah, man. Everyone.”

It took a long time for Robby to walk unassisted. Despite no surgeries, his legs had to be in casts for a full six weeks and that made a lot of things difficult. Jack refused to leave his side. Even moved back in like it had been after Liz. It had been a long month and a half, but Jack never once wavered. He made food, showed Robby how to get around his own house without the use of his legs, and even made the couch a comfortable place to sleep. Robby refused to make Jack deal with getting him up and down the stairs every morning and night. Jack said he’d be happy to, but Robby wouldn’t cause the amputee-veteran more issues.

Each week that passed, Robby fell closer and closer to Jack. Something had changed between them. He couldn’t understand what, but they just…flowed better. It was different, but a good different. Robby still had guilt eating away at him about Liz. He didn’t know how she’d feel about this.

Other than the physical, something else had shifted. Robby had heard about people having a near-death experience and having a complete change in heart. He wasn’t quite there after waking up, but it was a close thing. He didn’t want to go to Heads-Smashed-In anymore. What he did want was to try the therapist Caleb recommended to him.

Jack had come home in the middle of one of the sessions and left when he realized what was going on. Robby had gone beet-red in the middle of said session and his much younger therapist asked if that was the man Robby mentioned crushing on.

“It’s not a crush,” Robby sighed, “That’s not the term I’d use.”

“What term would you use?” she said.

“I think I’m in love with him. But that’s not why we’re here.”

“We’re here for whatever you need me for. If that includes crushes, then that includes crushes.” Robby laughed outright at that. He still filed the information away for later.

Jack had poked Robby a bit about it, but said he was proud of Robby. It was the first step or something. Robby was pretty sure the first step was admitting you had a problem. He hadn’t gotten that choice. It had been made for him.

The therapy helped. With working through the healing process–physical and mental–and with the after. When his legs were working again and he didn’t need Jack, but Robby still wanted him.

His therapist helped him write a script for asking Jack to stay and cheered for him after he accepted.

Robby didn’t tell her about…this. Being in the same bed and wrapped around Jack. He thought she’d talk about the “crush” again (even if it sounded like a playground word, it was succinct and growing on him) and about being honest. Robby did not want to be honest if he lost holding Jack and feeling him breathe and knowing they were both alive. He hadn’t lost Jack after everything. He still had the man he loved, even if it was only in this capacity. The same capacity he had Jack after Liz. Except this time, it was Robby grieving what could have happened.

There was still something he needed to say. Something he’d been avoiding. It was hard and he only really told his therapist. But Robby knew it would come out eventually, if Jack hadn’t already pieced it together.

Robby cleared his throat.

“Jack?” he said.

“Can’t sleep?” Jack said. Robby nodded, then hid his face in the back of Jack’s neck. “Your nose is cold.”

“You say that every time.”

“Because every time, your nose is cold.” Robby huffed and rubbed his nose against Jack’s neck just to annoy him. All it got was Jack laughing and lightly elbowing him. They calmed down when Robby stopped.

His heart thudded in his chest. He closed his eyes despite Jack not being able to see him.

“Um.” Robby said. “That night. When I got hit.”

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. His voice wavered and Robby wrapped his arms tighter around Jack.

“I do. I…” Robby couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t just confessing what he’d been planning. There was another thing he needed to say. It didn’t make sense to himself, but he had that pull. The urge he needed to do this. Robby would listen to that pull. “When I left the PTMC for my sabbatical, I wanted to kill myself. Not that night–I didn’t plan that.”

“Mike,” Jack choked. His hand fumbled under the blankets and wrapped around Robby’s. He let their fingers interlace and fiddled the pad of his thumb over the knuckles.

“I was going to drive my motorcycle off a cliff. I didn’t…Want to be there anymore. Anywhere. I told Duke that.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would ask me to stay.” Robby’s breath shuddered as he tried to hold the tears back. “And I would. And I think that would have killed me worse.”

“Michael–”

“I’m sorry.” Robby sobbed and pulled Jack closer. He cried into the back of Jack’s collar. It probably soaked through to the bone, but Jack didn’t complain. He apologized again and again. Muttering the words into Jack’s skin and holding him. Jack clung to Robby’s hands and just let him.

“Please forgive me?” he managed. He wasn’t sure it was loud enough for Jack to hear. Getting the words out was enough for a weight to lift of Robby’s shoulder. He could take a breath in and his lungs filled. He didn’t choke on the air.

“Of course,” Jack said. He forced Robby to let one hand release and pulled the knuckles to his mouth to kiss them. “Of course I forgive you.”

I am Sorry. Please Forgive Me. I Love You. Thank You.

“We should go back.” Robby said. He stared at the door in front of him. This was a dumb idea. The bread pan was still warm in his hands and he didn’t expect to get it back. The cloth covering the challah would keep any bugs off of it if they just rang the doorbell and ran. What kind of person did this?

“No,” Jack said, his hand low on Robby’s back. It was a newer thing, but Robby liked it. Jack had always been touchy. He just had more of a reason to be touchy starting two weeks back. “You said you wanted to do this. I know you want to do this.”

“I’m bringing the person who hit me with their car my great-grandfather’s bread.” Robby said flatly. “That’s fucking weird.”

“We do fucking weird shit all the time! Now knock or I will.” Robby knew he wasn’t bluffing. He knocked.

They stood there for a few seconds. Robby almost turned and ran but Jack’s steady presence beside him kept him on the porch. It would all be fine. They’d just hand over the bread, Robby would say a few words, and then they’d go.

The door opened.

The woman on the other end looked about a decade younger than them. Her hair was just starting to get a few gray strands, her smile lines not as defined. There were a few scars around her neck from where the windshield must have shattered after she hit the tree.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not much in the mood for visitors, so—”

“That’s fine,” Jack said, “Just give him a few seconds of your time? Please?” The woman frowned at being interrupted and Robby glared at Jack for it. Jack didn’t even look at him, just grinned at the woman.

“Hi,” Robby turned back to face her, “You don’t know me, but my name is Michael Robinavitch. Most people call me Robby. Um…” He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the floor. The woman had brown slippers on. “Sorry, a few months ago, I was riding my motorcycle home from work. I wasn’t paying attention and got hit.”

“Oh my God.” the woman whispered. Robby raised his teary eyes. There were already tears running down her face. “You were…”

“I was. Forgive me for taking up any of your time.” Robby held up the bread pan. “This is challah. I made it from my great-grandfather’s recipe.”

“Oh.” she reached forward and gently took the pan. “This is lovely. But you shouldn’t be—”

“I wanted to. You…You saved my life.” Jack squeezed the back of Robby’s shirt as the first tears fell. The woman held the bread pan to her chest as she wiped at her own eyes. “I was in a bad place and honestly you hitting me with your car was the best thing that could have happened.” Robby laughed and wiped away his own tears.

They stood together in silence, sniffling and wiping their tears. Robby reached behind him to grab Jack’s hand and squeeze it. He didn't know how he would have done this with him. He probably wouldn’t have.

“Oh, I didn’t even introduce myself!” she said. Robby went to tell her she didn’t have to, he knew her name, but she already held her hand out. “Miriam Ashton. Would you like to come in? We could share the bread you made.”

“That would be wonderful.” Robby nodded. Jack squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”