Work Text:
"Jack, I'm really sorry to ask, but Robby's out on his feet."
Jack could hear the hubbub around Dana, could practically see her at the central hub, keeping a watchful eye on everything. "Is he okay?" Jack was already sitting up, reaching for the silicone sleeve for his stump. He didn't need the sleep anyway.
"Yeah, he's okay." Dana said, but she sounded stressed, "Just exhausted. Al-Hashimi can be here for 2300, but she wants to spend the evening with her family first." Her voice softened, "I'm sorry Jack, I know you and Robby have plans."
"Not until midnight." Jack said, pinning the phone between his shoulder and his ear so that he could attach his leg, "If she's in at 2300, I've got time to get back."
"Thanks Jack." Dana said, before hanging up.
Jack stood up and stretched, Dana didn't need to thank him, he was coming in for Robby not for her. If his partner was tired enough that Dana was calling then that was all Jack's concern.
*
Jack spotted Robby before Dana pointed him out, Robby had his hands on his hips, his face pinched up into an angry little frown. He looked like he had been shouting, spots of red in his cheeks, hair mussed where he had run his hands through it. He was glaring at a patient's leg as though it had done him a personal wrong.
Jack thought he had made enough noise on approach not to startle Robby, but as his hand landed on Robby’s shoulder his partner swung around like he was going to bite. "Jack." Robby said, surprised, then sharply, "What are you doing here?"
Jack inclined his head away from the patient and their swollen leg, "I need to borrow Dr Robby for two minutes." He explained, guiding the taller man out of the cubicle.
"You're going home." Jack said as soon as they had any semblance of privacy, "You need to sleep."
Robby bristled under Jack's hands, "I'm fine."
"You're exhausted." Jack corrected, fingers squeezing lightly into Robby's tense shoulders, "If you leave now, you can be home by 6, have a few hours' sleep and I'll swing by at 23:30."
"You're not supposed to be working today." Robby stopped and turned, dark eyes serious and worried.
Jack dismissed that out of hand, "I wasn't sleeping anyway, just lying in bed listening to the radio. I slept in this morning so I'm good to stay up tonight. You will be napping through the fireworks if you don't get some shut eye."
Robby could apparently see the sense in that, releasing a short, frustrated sigh, as though his human limitations were a constant source of disappointment. "Who's relieving you?"
"Baran, at 23:00. She's punctual." Jack gave Robby's shoulders a final squeeze and then let his hands run over Robby's hoody, straightening him out, "I'll be there for 23:30."
Robby looked around the ED, scanning for problems that needed solving, before letting out another tense breath and nodding, "Yeah, okay. Thank you."
Jack smiled, "Everyone keeps thanking me, but I'm the winner here."
"Who else thanked you?" Robby asked, but Jack just shook his head and ushered him in the direction of the locker room.
*
"Jack, the tablets won't charge." Shen had appeared at Jack's side as Jack ran the ultrasound over a blast injury's chest.
"Have you called IT?" Jack asked, eyes still on the back and white image of the man's lungs.
"It's nearly 9, they left at 5." Shen said neutrally, eyes also drawn to the screen, "Ooh, oh." Jack had paused on the swirl of fluid at the base of the lung.
"Are you going to deal with this or the tablets?" Jack asked, turning with a raised eyebrow to Shen.
"This." Shen said instantly, hands replacing Jack's without the slightest hesitation, "Can you send Parker in?"
Jack stepped back, he should have known Shen would take the haemothorax over the tablets. He stripped off his gloves and gown, shoving them into the bin and waving Parker down as he stepped out, "Haemothorax in Trauma 1, Shen's in there. Call me if you need me - I'll be... calling IT."
Parker smirked at him as she passed, "The perks of being the boss."
"Let me know when you find one." He snarked back, going over to the bank of chargers. No lights. Lots of tablets on low power. People had been ignoring this for a while.
Lena looked at him over her glasses, "How many doctors does it take to fix a power supply?"
"Just one." Jack replied, leaning over to check that the power cable was actually plugged in, then that it was switched on.
Lena laughed, "I've seen at least four or five just switch tablets."
"If that would last til day shift I'd be behind it." Jack said, tracing the power cable back to where it snaked under the desk.
"That might cause some domestic issues."
Jack shook his head, grinning unrepentantly at her, "Robby's not in for the next three days and neither am I. He has made plans."
"Plans?" Lena asked, arching her eyebrow, "Do I even want to know?"
Jack's smile turned feral, "I hope not. He wouldn't tell me so I assume it's just days of-"
Lena held up a hand, "That's enough for me. I hope you have fun."
Jack didn't bother hiding his smirk as he crouched down to peruse the underside of the desk. A tangle of cables. All black and a similar girth and texture. Great. He shifted down onto his hands and knees, shuffling under the desk and trying to establish which cable went to the power bank. He should really just call IT and have them come and fix it, the hospital could afford the out-of-hours charge. He just needed to make sure it wasn't as simple as flicking a switch or plugging in a loose connection, because that would be embarrassing.
He was tracing the cable with a finger when the first explosion went off. His body flushed with adrenaline, hot then cold in the space of a second, heart rate kicking into gear, lungs sucking in air. The following explosions came in quick succession, two, three, four-five-six. He counted automatically. He was already out from under the table, rolling onto his feet, socket screaming dully that this was not a manoeuvre for a bum leg. Memories of drills merged with dust and blood and screams, overlaying the fluorescent hospital, two worlds colliding. The explosions were too quiet to be powerful, no backing whumph of detonation just the sharp cracks as the casings went. There was no chatter of returning fire, no shouting of orders, a strange dull silence. Nobody was reacting. People just turning slowly as though caught in treacle, no urgency, no panic.
"Hey, stop that!" Lena was pointing, shouting - sounding annoyed?
Jack spun round. Kids. Three of them. No visible weapons. Hands all in view. Looking guilty but not... not hard or scared enough to be hostiles. Just - well, just regular Pittsburgh kids.
"Where are your parents?" Lena was still addressing the children, her tone slipping into 'disapproving Mom'.
"Dylan?!" a harried looking woman burst out of Trauma 1, "Was that you setting off firecrackers? You come in here and sit down, right now!"
Firecrackers. That was why they didn't sound right. Just little packets of gunpowder in cardboard. Not because the initial explosion had damaged his hearing, which is what had happened last time, everything ringing and distant as he tried to figure out why he couldn't get up and whose boot that was. Fucking firecrackers. He could see the scorch marks on the floor. Gloria was gonna be pissed.
"Jack?" Lena's voice was sharp, he turned to her automatically, "What happened?" her wide eyes were on his head.
He reached up, realising that something was dripping onto his shoulder, his fingertips came away bloody, "Uh, am I bleeding?" He asked her, stupidly.
"Yeah." Lena nodded, closing in quickly and looking around for help, "Mateo," she called, "Get me a resident!"
Jack put his hand back to his head, not believing it, even as the side of his forehead started to throb - as though touching it had opened up a new neural pathway. His entire palm was red now, bright red oxygenated blood, which was good. His skull felt fine too, nothing spongy or soggy, or protruding or indented – also good. Lots of good things.
"Just a scalp lac." He said to Lena reassuringly, "Head wounds always bleed a lot."
Lena put her hands on his shoulders, hooking a chair with her foot and guiding him down into it, "Thanks for that Jack, I had no idea." She said, wry through the worry, "Keep pressure on it. Stop taking your hand off to look at it - it's still bleeding."
“It’ll stop in a minute.” Jack said confidently.
Lena eyes slid sideways at him, “Not sure it will.” then she turned to Parker, hurrying over after Mateo, “Head lac, still bleeding.”
“No shit.” said Parker, reaching over the desk for gloves, “How did you do that?” she directed at Jack.
“Not sure.” Jack frowned, looking around as though expecting it to occur to him, “No idea actually.”
Parker’s hands were brushing his hair aside, “Move your hand – oh shit, that is a scalp lac.” she guided Jack’s hand back over the wound, “Keep pressure on that. Lena, where’s free?”
“North 4.” Lena said, not even looking at the screen, her hand coming down to press over Jack’s, “Jack, you are not keeping pressure on it.”
Parker crouched in front of Jack, eyes serious, “Jack, any symptoms I need to know about? Loss of consciousness? Dizziness? Nausea? Anything?”
Jack shook his head a little, stilling as Lena’s hand slapped back over his to keep pressure on the wound, “Pressure.” she said firmly, as though he didn’t know that.
“Okay, let’s get you to North 4 and get this sorted.”
Jack stood up, their hands cautious and guiding on his arms and back until they were satisfied he wasn’t about to keel over. On a better day he would have had a snarky comment but his head was starting to pound steadily and standing hadn’t helped. “You feeling okay?” Parker asked, apparently getting more concerned.
“Yeah.” Jack said, as firmly as he could manage, hand slipping off his head – yanked back by Lena, “Starting to get a headache.” he took a step and pain pinched at the end of his stump, forcing his weight onto his other leg.
“Whoa.” Parker’s fingers tightened around his arm, “Dizzy?” she pulled him to a stop. His hand had left his head entirely and Parker cut her losses and used her own gloved hand to apply direct pressure, it would do until she could get him sat down.
“No, tweaked my leg.” Jack explained, his tongue starting to feel thick in his mouth, the words effortful and chewy. He was prepared for it this time, sinking his weight deliberately onto the prosthesis, forcing himself to stand on the spike of pain and move his other foot. He had learned to walk again already, knew each deliberate motion - nothing natural left in his gait anyway.
*
Jack pulled on the fresh scrub top, discarding the old one onto the end of the bed. He glanced over at the med student sat on the hard plastic chair at his side, she was watching him. He felt like he knew her name, but he couldn’t get it to come to mind. His head was throbbing, overstuffed with cotton wool. He was residually annoyed that he was being watched, but that wasn’t the med student’s fault. Parker had cleaned up the lac, stitching it closed and washing the blood out of his hair and off his face. She had suggested that she could wrap a bandage around his head but he had shot that down immediately, allowing the compromise of an adhesive wound dressing. She had shaved off some of his hair down to the skin so that it would stick, but Jack figured he could get the rest cut tighter in a couple of days and it would grow out soon enough.
“You really don’t need to watch me.” he said to the med student.
“Dr Ellis said to watch you.” she answered, almost seeming bored, if her dark eyes weren’t sharp behind her round glasses.
“Well,” Jack said, because there wasn’t much arguing with that, “I don’t actually need watching.”
“Dr Ellis said you do.” she replied, non-confrontational, just stating the facts.
Jack rolled his eyes slightly, a person could get sick of what Dr Ellis had said. “I am technically Dr Ellis’ attending physician, so I think I can manage without a minder.”
The student had the audacity to smile a little at that.
“What?” Jack asked, annoyed.
The student’s expression instantly smoothed out, “Sorry, nothing.”
“What?” Jack pressed, turning to face her head-on, “What’s funny?”
“Nothing - really. I’m sorry. You’re the ER attending, you outrank her, you’ve been a doctor for twenty years, you know the worsening advice for a head injury - I know. She still said to watch you. You can argue with her about it when she comes back.”
Jack glared at her after that monologue, trying to figure out why he couldn’t name this student when she had clearly been working with him a while. It was obviously too late to ask her name. If he could just get his head to stop hurting then thinking would be easier.
The curtain rattled back and Parker appeared, “How’re you feeling?” she asked, glancing at the monitors Jack was hooked up to, “Vitals look good.”
“Headache, that’s about it.” Jack answered, “Can I get some Advil?”
“Advil?” Parker asked, like he had just suggested he was going to eat his own shoe – a mix of surprise and disappointment.
A rote-learned line floated through his head, Advil and other NSAIDs contraindicated in cases of head trauma due to risk of bleeding. “Tylenol.” he self-corrected.
Parker turned to the med student who just raised a hand to point at the little empty paper cup on the table at Jack’s side. Parker looked back at Jack, her forehead crinkled in concern. “Jack, what day is it?”
Jack rolled his eyes properly, he forgot one thing and now Parker was going all HIA on him, “New Year’s Eve.”
“The day, Jack.” Parker looked genuinely worried, tone gentler than he was used to, nothing sharp or sarcastic.
He felt an enormous pressure to be right about this but it didn’t immediately come to him. He had worked a night shift on Monday – knew that it was a Monday because Shen had played that song by The Bangles. Which made today Tuesday, because that had been his last shift and this was his second night. Unless they were playing games with him and it was after midnight, but they would probably let that slide and Parker hadn’t challenged his assertion that it was New Year’s Eve. “Tuesday?” he tried to make it not sound like a guess, wasn’t sure he succeeded.
Parker nodded slightly, but something had tightened around her mouth and she wasn’t looking at the student in a way that felt deliberate. Shit. He was wrong about the day. It couldn’t be Monday, because he was sure about Shen and the song, so it must be Wednesday. “Sorry, my bad, Wednesday – I'm not good on days.”
Parker’s mouth was positively downturned at this point. It couldn’t be Thursday. It wasn’t possible. It could only be Tuesday or Wednesday. So why was she looking at him like that? Even if it was Thursday, he couldn’t change horse again, he’d failed that one already he was pretty sure.
“I’m not gonna insult you by asking who the president is, so who’s the last president?”
“You always insult me, why stop now?” he quipped, put off by her frozen expression, “Biden.” he answered confidently, so that she would know he wasn’t stalling for time to think. Parker pulled her lower lip into her mouth, worrying it between her teeth, looking up at him as though willing him to provide another answer. But there was no other answer. He was sure. “Biden was the last president.” he said, starting to feel uncertain despite himself, “Joe Biden. The 46th president was Joe Biden.”
Parker pulled over a stool and sat down, putting her hand on his knee reassuringly, “Yes, you’re right. Biden was the last president.”
Jack looked at her, confused, “So... so why are you looking at me like that’s not the right answer?”
Parker shook herself, just a tiny little shake, and snapped into something more professional than Jack had ever been on the receiving end of, “Sorry, no, you’re right. Okay, what’s my name?”
Jack laughed at that, like he would forget her name, “Parker Ellis – Dr Ellis.”
“And my colleague?” Parker asked, hand motioning to the student.
Shit. No name tag. No dangling ID badge. Nothing presenting itself. He should know her name. He had a feeling that he had worked with her – that she knew him on some level. He couldn’t tie any memories to her but there was something there. It was going on too long and it was embarrassing. Why didn’t he know her name? He always made an effort to learn the students’ names, remembered loathing the feeling of being beneath the attending’s notice. He could feel himself flushing. It would be worse to guess. Worse to be wrong. He turned to the student, “I am so sorry, remind me?”
“Joy.” she said brightly, like it was no big deal that he had literally forgotten her.
“Sorry, yeah, Joy.” he committed it to memory, even though it had sparked absolutely zero recognition.
Parker turned to Joy, “Can I speak to you a second? I’ll be one minute.” she added to Jack as they were leaving. Jack was grateful to Parker, she’d smooth it over if she could, explain that he’d banged his head, that he did remember her really.
It took him a moment to register that he could still hear them through the curtain.
Parker’s voice, low and urgent, “... I’ll chase the CT.”
“He was stuck in this loop about me watching him, he must’ve circled back to it four or five times while you were gone.”
Joy was giving handover about him to Parker. Had he really talked to her about watching him? Obviously she was just doing what she was told, she was a med student. And four or five times, she was making him sound crazy. Why was she exaggerating? Even if he had mentioned it – and he wasn’t sure he had – he definitely hadn’t kept mentioning it, that would be pointless. Irritated, he yanked off the pulse ox and the blood pressure cuff. He wasn’t going to sit here listening to them talk about him through the curtain. He stood up, leg buckling underneath him, clutching back at the bed whilst he waited for the cramping pain to subside. He couldn’t quite bring himself to put his full weight onto it, not confident that it would hold. He swept the curtain open, both of them startling guiltily.
“I can hear you, y’know.” he said, annoyed – angry.
The med student glanced at Parker, Parker had her eyes locked on Jack’s. Parker was the one who replied, “My bad Jack. Let’s get you sat down and we’ll talk about it.”
“I’m sick of this shit.” Jack said firmly, waving a hand at the cubicle, “I’m going back to work.”
Parker moved her body slightly, filling more of the space as though she would stop him leaving, “Let’s have a chat first.” she bargained.
“No.” Jack couldn’t articulate why he was so vehemently opposed to talking it through, but he wasn’t about to submit to further stupid questions that he couldn’t answer. Shame curled through him. He knew who the fucking president was. He was absolutely fine.
“Please Jack?” Parker asked, hands coming up from her sides slightly, as though she could somehow waft him backwards through force of will.
Parker had never said ‘please’ to him without a strong sarcastic undertone and the wrongness of it scraped along his nerves, she was treating him like a patient. He took an involuntary step away from her and his leg buckled again. Both of them lunged forward as he crumpled but he caught himself on the table with a loud bang as it slammed into the wall. Startled and furious he reached down and scrabbled at the release pin of his prosthesis, “You fucking useless shitty thing.” he cursed, hopping as he tore it off, unbalancing himself, “Fucking useless bastard.” he slammed it into the wall. It was unsatisfying, the shoe leaving a rubber mark on the wall but both the prosthesis and the wall otherwise unharmed. He turned and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and then the floor. Rage was swirling up inside him, taking him all the way back to the first days of recovery, learning to use the prosthesis when every step was agony. The then-unfamiliar pain of the ends of his tibia and fibula compressing half his body weight onto two little points on that pad of poorly equipped flesh they had sewed up for him to walk on. No amount of silicone or padding could make that bearable, nothing soft or cushioned, just pain from the floor to his knee. He turned to the wall and launched his fist. The army had taught him how to punch – through the target not at the target.
The pain in his knuckles distracted him a little, blooming sharp and bright. "Useless fucking bastard.” He did it again. Then again. It cooled him off enough to hear Parker calling his name. He resisted the urge to shake out his hand, twisting on his foot and letting his left hand drift to the bed to keep himself upright.
Parker’s eyes were wide, shocked. “Jack?” she said, unsure.
“What?” he snapped at her. Though now, as his hand and his leg throbbed in time with his heart, he could see that he was being unreasonable. The med student next to Parker looked appalled and that sent shame shivering out over his skin. He had frightened her. She had come into work and he had frightened her. He was her attending. He was supposed to look out for her, teach her, not fucking scare her. “I’m sorry.” he said, disgusted with himself, “I shouldn’t - I would never...” he didn’t know what he was trying to say, I would never hit you – I would never hurt you it should all go without saying. He should never need to give those reassurances to anybody.
“Jack, have a seat.” Parker said, easing a step in front of the student, like she was going to protect the student from him. As though she would have to. As though she could. If Jack wanted to hurt them he would go straight through them. He hadn’t fought like that in years but he could feel the old instincts there, lurking under the surface. He knew each move, drilled into muscle memory that no amount of civilian niceties could ever truly erase. But he wasn’t going to hurt Parker and he wasn’t going to hurt the student. Even thinking about how easy it would be made his skin crawl. What was her name? The med student. He should know her name. He recognised her, had obviously taught her, he should apologise to her for being such a mess. But he didn’t even know her name. Hadn’t taken the two seconds out of his day to learn the name of another human being. They must have done a couple of shifts together by now because he did recognise her.
“Jack,” Parker was speaking slowly and smoothly, “Jack, sit down on the bed for me.”
It sparked anger again. Lightning fast. She was treating him like a patient. Something must have showed in his face or his posture because Parker took another step closer, speaking to someone else whilst maintaining eye contact with him. “Joy, go ask Lena to call Robby.”
The med student moved, so she must be Joy. Joy. He needed to remember that. “Don’t call Robby.” he could hear the growl in his own voice, didn’t mean it to come out so like a threat.
Joy had paused behind Parker, eyes darting nervously back to him.
Parker turned enough to look at her, “Joy, get Lena to call Robby.” then Parker leaned in close and whispered something into Joy’s ear.
Parker turned back to face Jack as Joy set off in the direction of the hub.
“Don’t call Robby.” Jack repeated, coming towards Parker, “He’s sleeping. Don’t call him.”
“Jack,” Parker said, spreading her arms to fill the space, but not touching him, holding him back by forcing him to be the one to make things physical, “I need to talk to you about something. Will you please sit down and listen to me?”
“Don’t call Robby.” Jack repeated stubbornly, though it was pointless now because the student had gone.
“I need to talk to you.” Parker repeated, “About something important.”
Jack’s eyes found hers, trying to focus on what she was saying, “Right now?” he asked, confused. They had been talking about something else, something that had made him angry enough to hit something, but the details were blurring out.
“Right now.” Parker confirmed, indicating the bed. There was no patient in it but that would still be weird. He glanced around and then leaned over and snagged the stool. He waved a hand at the plastic chair, inviting her to sit.
“Hey Jack.” Ahmad greeted from the cubicle entrance, Shen and Crus appearing behind him a moment later, “Everything okay?”
Jack frowned, eyes flicking between them. There was something off here. Tension sizzling in the air. Ahmad’s hands were on his belt, as though he was ready for something to kick off. But there was no patient in this room. What was he even doing in here with Parker? Why had he taken off his leg?
“We’re all good,” Parker filled in the silence, “I just had a bit of a tense encounter with a patient and I wanted to speak to Jack about it. I’ll fill you all in once I’ve spoken to Jack?”
There was still something not quite right, but Ahmad nodded, eyes lingering. Then the doorway was clear. Jack turned back to Parker, “What happened?”
Parker blinked, rubbing a hand over her mouth, “It was nothing really. I actually wanted to make sure that you were okay, your leg seems like it’s bothering you.”
Jack looked down at it, the empty pant leg below his knee. He didn’t remember why he had taken it off but it must have been hurting if he’d removed the prosthesis. He couldn’t remember doing that at work before. Sometimes he’d take a break, sit down, or – if it was really bad – go lie down somewhere and massage the stump. But to just leave the prosthesis off, how was he going to work? Nobody wanted a doctor on crutches. “Doesn’t hurt now.” he offered, not wanting to make something up. His team were good about his leg, he had spent a long time building that trust and he wasn’t about to jeopardize it with a cheap lie.
“Okay, good.” Parker said, pleased, “And your head?”
“A bit sore – kinda pounding.” Jack said honestly, fingers coming up to probe at the dressing.
“Alright, I’ll look into getting you something for that.” she said, standing up, “Can I get some vitals done while I wait for your CT results?”
Jack looked at the bed askance, was that for him? But Parker was already standing, as though this was settled, so he levered himself up and hauled himself onto the bed. Parker pushed the monitors at him, “You okay to hook yourself up?” she asked, pulling the bedrail up through force of habit.
Jack nodded, starting on untangling the wires.
Parker was met by Shen, Crus, Ahmad, and Joy outside North 1.
She ran a hand over her locs, twisting one in her fingers, “He’s okay for the minute. It got close though. I thought we might need to sedate him.” she turned to Ahmad, serious, “He laid into that wall with his fist and he got right up in our faces. I think we move him into central – somewhere we can see him. He’s so up and down, he’s not going to tolerate all of us hovering around. Are his CT results back yet?”
“No,” Crus answered, “I’ve chased them. I’ll chase them again.”
Lena was coming across the hub, phone held out, “Robby, for you Parker.”
Parker took the phone, continuing to address those in the corridor, “Joy, I think it’s best if we stick to people he knows – just in case. Ahmad, if he goes he’s going to go.” then she was walking up the corridor, seeking privacy to speak to Robby.
‘Parker?’
“Hang on Robby,” she ducked out into the ambulance bay, tucking herself into a corner, “Okay, shoot.”
‘Parker, I’m fifteen minutes away – traffic is terrible. What happened?’
Parker closed her eyes, Robby already sounded stressed. “What do you know?” she asked.
‘Jack hit his head, he’s had a CT – Lena called and said to come straight in. Is he okay?’
“Yeah, he’s okay at the minute.” Parker knew how Robby would read that, but she wasn’t about to tell him Jack was fine and then have him arrive in the middle of them pinning Jack down and sedating him, “He’s got a scalp lac that’s nothing. He’s - he’s behaving erratically. He has some post-traumatic amnesia, doesn’t know how he hit his head, and he’s circling around on a loop – failed an HIA about fifteen minutes ago, and 45 minutes ago. He’s quite volatile Robby, he’s showing some... aggression.”
‘Aggression?’ Robby repeated incredulously, ‘What do you mean aggression?’
“He squared up to me, threw his prosthesis across the room, punched a wall.”
‘What?’ Robby’s disbelief was clear even over the tinny line.
“Yeah.” Parker said, only just starting to process it herself. She had really thought that Jack might hit her – or more likely Joy.
Crus came jogging out into the ambulance bay, scanning around and coming over, “Sorry Park – not Jack-” he clarified immediately at her expression, “Explosion at a house party. We’re closest.”
‘Go.’ Robby said instantly, ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
*
By the time Parker could peel out of Trauma 2 and swing by the central hub it had been fifteen minutes, she was expecting Robby to hurtle through the doors at any moment and she wanted to be there to meet him. She walked pseudo-casual past the central cubicle Lena had moved Jack to and froze, heart leaping to her throat. No Jack. Completely empty.
“Lena!” she called, spinning to the hub, eyes finding the charge nurse, “Where’s Jack?”
Lena didn’t do her the discourtesy of checking the cubicle, “Mal was watching him, it was all hands on deck.”
Parker didn’t care who had been watching him - and Mal was a second-year med student, he should be capable of monitoring a patient. She looked around for either Mal or Jack, and to her immediate relief spotted Mal coming out of the men’s toilet. Her relief flickered out at the worried look on Mal’s face and the lack of Jack before the door swung shut again. “Mal! Where’s Jack?”
Mal turned to his name, shaking his head at Parker, “He said he needed the toilet, but he’s not in there.”
“You didn’t let him go alone?” Parker said quietly, tightly controlled.
Mal quailed, “He said he was okay, he just needed to pee.”
Parker pressed a fist to her mouth. It wasn’t the time to tear him a new one, but she was going to at some stage. “Robby is going to be here any minute, and he is going to go ballistic if we don’t know where Jack is. Where have you checked?”
“Just the bathroom.” Mal said quietly.
Parker took another deep breath, “Go check the roof – like all the way up the stairs, and outside. If he’s up there, you call me, and you do not go near him. Don’t speak to him, don’t - just call me. Immediately. Got it?"
Parker turned to Lena as Mal headed off, “I’m going to check on-call and the lockers, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Parker threw open the door to the on-call room, she didn’t really expect Jack to be in here – both he and Robby shunned this room except if they had private meetings. Her money was on the roof. Her only doubt was whether Jack would have physically made it that far, she had seen his prosthesis in the cubicle and hopefully nobody had brought him crutches. The room was in darkness with no human silhouette anywhere, but she flicked on the light to be sure. Jack was curled up on the cot bed and he flinched as she turned the light on, covering his face with his hand. “Jack.” she breathed out her relief, flipping the light back off, “Jack what are you doing in here?” she took her phone out of her pocket, calling Robby.
“Where are you?” Robby demanded, stressed and worried.
“I’m with Jack, in the on-call room.” she could hear him moving before she even finished speaking.
Parker crouched down, she wasn’t going to go over to Jack, Robby was thirty seconds away and she would only be pushed aside. Robby was actually less than thirty seconds away and running. She heard him skid to a halt outside and then gently turn the door handle and ease the door open.
“Robby.” she announced herself, standing up, “Don’t turn the light on – he's photosensitive. He’s on the bed.” it would take his eyes a moment to adjust, even with the corridor lighting spilling in.
“Jack?” Robby said softly, stepping past Parker, having the grace to touch her arm lightly in thanks now that he could see Jack, “Jack, it's Robby.”
Robby folded himself down beside the bed, not sure how much contact Jack would want or what kind of state he would be in. But Jack reached up immediately and dragged Robby into the bed, pressing into him desperately and dissolving into tears. Robby heard Parker shut the door. He slid into the bed beside Jack, Jack’s left leg pressed against his, he realized that Jack wasn’t wearing his prosthesis at the gentle touch of Jack’s stump against the back of his right knee.
“Oh sweetheart, shh.” he soothed, rubbing his hand over Jack’s back, feeling Jack pressing into him as though he could meld their bodies together, “I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Jack wasn’t even trying to say anything, just burying his face into the side of Robby’s neck and crying his heart out. Robby had never seen him so upset. It must be the head injury. The scalp lac that was ‘nothing’, according to Parker. Robby reached up to cradle the back of Jack’s head, fingers spreading out through Jack’s curls, feeling each shuddering breath.
“Head hurts.” Jack mumbled between sobs.
“I know.” Robby reassured him, “I’ll get you something for that in a minute.”
Jack sniffled wetly against Robby’s skin, clearly trying to pull himself together. Robby held him close, not ready to let Jack go, pressing his own face against Jack, breathing in the reassuring smell of him. The journey to the Pitt had been hell, the fragments of information fitting themselves into a hundred horrible scenarios, all of them ending with Jack’s permanent disability or death. But now that he was here, with Jack, he could finally let himself believe that it was just a concussion. As though there should be any just before concussion. But it was better than the alternative. Jack was talking – coherently, not slurred, not angry, not nonsense. Jack had good strength in both arms and good coordination throughout his body. Jack recognised him and had correctly identified and shared that his head hurt. All good signs for his brain. He also appeared reasonably alert and nobody had mentioned anything about him being sick.
“Do you remember what’s happened?” Robby asked, because although he was a doctor, he was a partner first, “It’s okay if you don’t.”
“Firecrackers.” Jack said, taking another wet gasp of Robby’s neck and pulling back enough to press his face against Robby’s hoodie instead, “Went off. Overreacted.”
Robby pressed a kiss to Jack’s ear in trying to kiss his head, “I’m sorry.” he murmured into the darkness. Jack had already put years of consistent work into fireworks as a trigger before he met Robby and Robby could count on one hand the number of times that loud noises had catapulted Jack into a flashback. Jack adored fireworks. Robby remembered realising that he loved Jack as they stood huddled together in a dark crowd, enormous blasts of light splitting the night above them. He had looked down at Jack, bathed in a flash of gold and white, his grinning face turned up, eyes bright and alive with fervor. Of course, it hadn’t always been that way – Jack had spoken sparingly about the first few years after he came back, down a leg, when he had sat outside in noise cancelling headphones, blasting music so loud that all he could feel was the beat and all he could see were the explosions. Jack’s bitter words, imagine being at the centre of that, still came back to him. Sometimes he didn’t know how Jack did it. Robby pressed another kiss to Jack’s head, lips finding curls this time, and inhaling deeply. “Sounds like you’ve had a shit day.”
Jack laughed, a surprised broken thing, “Yeah, think so.”
Robby’s phone dinged loudly in his pocket, announcing the arrival of a message. Jack startled in his arms, and Robby clutched him closer, hand digging in his pocket to silence his phone. “It was on loud so I’d hear if they called about you.” he explained.
Jack nodded his understanding, pressing his face against Robby’s neck, nestling in as though he never intended to leave. Robby brought his phone up enough to see the screen, “Your CT results are back.”
“Haven’t had a CT.” Jack murmured, voice soft and contented.
“Yeah you have.” Robby informed him, squeezing him a little. He knew it must be hard not to remember, to have patches of memory rubbed out but still to feel like you were lucid.
“No, I didn’t.” Jack insisted, turning a little in Robby’s arms to make his voice more distinct.
Robby momentarily debated not arguing the point, it didn’t really matter what Jack thought had happened as long as everything had actually been done. Which it had, because Jack’s team were good. “You did.” he said instead, “But it's okay that you don’t remember.”
Jack pulled back properly now, arms unwrapping, withdrawing his leg, “I didn’t have a CT.”
Robby let him go but maintained contact with a light touch on Jack’s arm, “You did. The results are back.” Robby pointed out, “No results without a scan.” The scan results must be fine, because otherwise Parker would be in here already to fetch Jack.
“Still didn’t have one.” Jack repeated stubbornly.
“Well, okay. Let’s go look at the results of someone else’s scan and see about getting you home.” Robby suggested.
Jack seemed to feel that he was being teased and he didn’t appreciate it, “Fuck you.” he said, and there was a heat to it that Robby hadn’t heard before.
So this is what Parker was talking about, this crabby side of Jack that only usually made an appearance when he was at the limits of his physical endurance. Jack could be bitingly sarcastic, but he was never short-tempered, never sharp or belligerent. But Parker was right, - today - this was aggressive, Jack’s chin jutting out defiantly, head lowering to stare Robby down.
"Okay," Robby said, aiming for soothing and worrying that he had hit condescending, "Parker has text me to say that the CT results are back. We need to go look at them." He was playing the pronoun game with CT results, but it seemed to take the edge off Jack.
"Fine."
Robby pushed the blanket off, standing up and offering a hand down to Jack. Jack took it and let out a surprised grunt of pain as Robby pulled him to his foot.
"What?" Robby asked immediately, hands on Jack’s sides, then slipping up to cradle his head gently.
"I've hurt my hand." Jack said, holding it out, apparently mystified, flexing his knuckles experimentally.
Robby released Jack's head in favour of taking his hand, he peered at it in the poor lighting. Jack's knuckles were visibly bruised and swollen. Parker had said he punched a wall and it looked like he had meant it. Rather than get into another circular argument, Robby reminded Jack of the objective, "Let's go check this scan and go home." He held out an arm, waiting for Jack to settle against him, arms slung over each other's shoulders before starting to move.
They had only just made it to the corridor when Jack paused, hand coming up to cover his eyes. He swayed a little against Robby, short leg knocking their knees together. Robby gripped him tighter, steadying him, "Headache?" He asked.
Jack nodded, "Light makes it worse."
Robby felt a burr of helplessness, he couldn't make this easier, couldn't even comfort Jack with both hands occupied in keeping him upright. "We can dim the light in your bay, just got to get there." He hadn't meant it as a spur, but Jack nodded in agreement and started them moving again.
Jack didn't protest as Robby guided him to the bed, just sinking gratefully onto it and settling himself down on his side. He had closed his eyes before Robby reached the light switch, turning it down until the cubicle was in grey twilight. Jack's pinched expression relaxed a little, legs shifting again to tilt over, almost into the recovery position. Robby wanted to get him home, to stop having to disturb him and just let him sleep.
Parker had clearly seen them coming through because she appeared a few seconds later with a tablet. She reversed it and held it out to Robby, who slipped his glasses onto his nose and gave it a read. The headlines were simple, no bleed, no clots, minimal swelling. It was as close to an all clear as Robby could have hoped for.
"Jack, do you want to see the scan results?"
"Whose?" Jack asked, sounding decidedly unenthusiastic, head not leaving the pillow, eyes staying shut.
"Yours." Robby said neutrally.
Jack did rouse at that, half sitting up, "What scan?" he asked, perplexed rather than challenging.
"You hit your head, so you had a CT scan." Robby explained, holding out the tablet.
"Did I?" Jack asked, eyes narrowing as he tried to remember. He reached out and took the tablet, eyes tracking immediately to read his own name. He looked over the scan then, a frown forming, "When did I have a scan?"
Parker glanced at her watch, "About an hour and a half ago, maybe two."
"I don't remember it." Jack said softly, as though struggling to comprehend how he could have had a CT scan and not remember it.
"Try not to worry about it." Robby said, going to Jack's side and taking the tablet from him, even as the screen began to blink up a depleted battery symbol, "You have concussion, it's completely normal to have some amnesia."
“That explains the headache.” Jack said lightly, fingers coming up to probe over the dressing. “This looks all good to me, so...?”
“Yeah, we’ll get you discharged.” Parker said, accepting the now-dead tablet from Robby, “Robby, you’ll keep an eye on him?”
Jack scoffed even as Robby nodded, “I do know the worsening symptoms for concussion.”
Parker just rolled her eyes and looked at Robby, “You gonna be able to manage?”
Robby had gathered up Jack’s things, getting his bag from his locker, stuffing his prosthesis into it, retrieving his steth from under the main desk. Robby had a glance around, Al-Hashimi was all over this. She didn’t usually work nights, but this wasn’t a normal night, they’d be kept busy. He had made sure to tell her to call him if she needed another opinion. He knew she wouldn’t.
Robby could see Jack from the nurse’s station, he was still lying on his side, but he seemed to be looking at his hand. Fingers playing through the air. He wasn’t back to normal yet. Not once in the two or three minutes that Robby had been watching him, had he swept the ED with his eyes. Jack was always watching, whether that was the Army, hypervigilance, or just his personality, even when he was supervising a complex trauma case he would still pace to the double doors and check what was happening in the wider department. Concussed Jack apparently didn’t care. Robby deliberately relaxed his shoulders, Jack was going to be okay, he would take him home, make him eat something, then cocoon him in bed and keep him there until he was better. Not what he had planned for their time off, but at least he was okay – would be okay.
“You ready to go?” Robby asked, bringing the stool over so that he could be at eye level with Jack.
“What did I do to my hand?” Jack asked instead, eyes slightly sharper than they had been, clearly concerned.
“I wasn’t here.” Robby deflected, “Is it sore?”
Jack nodded slightly, holding it out, wriggling his fingers to demonstrate full range of motion, “Feels like I hit something.” he said quietly.
Robby reached out and took hold of his fingers, holding them still, “Parker said the x-ray came back clear.”
Jack’s eyes filled with tears, starting to spill over and run across his face, “I hate not being able to remember.”
Robby shifted closer, hooking his arms over the rail and getting hold of both of Jack’s hands, “I know sweetheart, but Parker and your team took good care of you. This won’t last forever.” he pressed a kiss to Jack’s curled fingers, “Three days off and you’ll be good as new.”
“Robby, if – if I hurt someone would you tell me?”
“Jack.” Robby said sharply, appalled, “Of course I would. But you didn’t.”
“I... I feel like I did...” Jack said, anguished, confused, trying to figure out how he could know this but not remember it, “If you weren’t here, are you sure?”
Robby disentangled himself enough to slam the guardrail down and climb onto the bed beside Jack, budging him over with his hip and then pulling Jack awkwardly into his lap, folding down around him so that he could envelope him, “Listen to me. You did not hurt anybody. The only thing you damaged was your own hand – because you punched the wall.”
Jack went rigid in his arms, “I punched a wall?” he asked hollowly, as though he couldn’t believe his ears.
Robby held him tighter, protecting him, grounding him, “Yes. Parker told me.”
“I punched a wall by Parker?” Jack sounded more upset, pulling himself robotically out of Robby’s embrace, “What the fuck.”
Robby didn’t let him go entirely, keeping an arm around Jack’s waist as his partner sat up beside him, eyes flicking over nothing as he tried to process this. Robby pressed against him, “It’s not your fault.”
Jack rubbed his hands over his eyes, groaning, “It is my fault. I fucking did it! Where is she? I need to speak to her.”
“She’s already said it’s fine Jack,” Robby tried to reassure him, “You were upset, you weren’t yourself.”
Jack’s expression twisted into despair, “Don’t give me that shit. You know how many times I heard that as a kid?” he covered his face with his hands, “I gotta apologise to her.” he spotted Shen across the ED, “Shen! Shen, can you get Parker for me asap?” he turned back to himself and Robby, “I swore I wouldn’t be that guy,” he murmured, looking down at his own knuckles.
“Jack.” Robby said firmly, because head injury or no head injury he wasn’t indulging this crap, “You are not that guy, do not beat yourself up about this.”
“Jack?” Parker arrived at the cubicle, breathing as though she had speed-walked from the far end of the department, “Everything okay?”
“Did I hit you?” Jack asked, tortured hazel eyes locking her in place.
Robby shook his head as Parker took a lightning-fast glance at him, because no obviously he hadn’t told Jack that.
Parker stepped closer, tapping her tablet against her other palm, “No.” she said to put him out of his misery, before adding “Somebody tell you that?”
Jack shook his head, “Did I hit anyone?”
“No.” Parker answered him again, “What makes you think you did?”
Jack held up his bruised hand, “And I feel... I feel like I did.” he tapped his own chest gently.
“Well you didn’t.” Parker said, “For sure.” when he didn’t seem to believe her, “But you might feel like that because you did scare us.”
Robby saw Jack’s face drop, horrified, holding him close with the arm around his waist and slipping his other hand onto the top of Jack's thigh.
Parker shrugged dismissively, “You didn’t do anything, just squared up to us... but for a second - and I mean a literal second Jack - I thought you might.”
“I - Parker... I would never. I’m so sorry.”
Parker shrugged again, blinking quickly, trying to smile, “I know – I know. And I need to apologise to you too, because I was talking about you right outside the curtain – that's what started it. I didn’t give you the standard of care that I should have.”
“You were great.” Jack said with complete certainty.
Parker did smile then, “With all due respect Jack, you literally can’t remember. I could have done anything and you would have no idea.”
For a moment it was too close, too cutting, then Jack laughed, “And if I thought you were the slightest bit interested I’d take that more seriously.”
“Your boyfriend is right there.” Parker said, teasing.
“Robby is not my boyfriend.” Jack said, mock outraged, then in clear delight at being able to needle them both simultaneously, “Robby is my life partner, my better half, my soulmate-”
Robby’s cheeks flamed and shoved his shoulder into Jack’s to shut him up.
Parker stuck her fingers in her ears, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Robby, can you take him home now please?”
Jack’s good mood lasted until Parker left and then he let the amusement drain away, sliding into a sad kind of quiet. “You okay?” Robby asked, slipping his arm back around Jack’s waist and tipping him closer.
Jack nodded, rallying enough to lean his head deliberately against Robby’s shoulder, and wrap his arms around Robby.
“You don’t need to perform being okay for us.” Robby said into the stillness, “If you’re not feeling okay, that’s normal. Concussion can do all kinds of things to our emotions, so however you’re feeling – it’s fine. Alright?” he rested his cheek against the top of Jack’s head, taking his silence as acknowledgement if not agreement.
“What if I never remember?” Jack asked, voice small, as though hoping not to be heard.
Robby considered that, deciding how to answer, "I hope you don’t remember.” he said eventually, “A few hours of PTSD triggers and concussion related mood-swings, you don’t need that for anything but torturing yourself.”
Jack was quiet for a few more seconds before he let out a thoughtful hmph against Robby’s shoulder.
When Jack didn’t seem to be going to add anything, Robby let his eyes close. He was tired. Jack was hurt. Jack was feeling guilty. He was feeling guilty – if he had just worked his shift, none of this would have happened. This whole day sucked. He had wanted it to be perfect. Jack stirred slightly against him but he was just shifting into a more comfortable position before settling again. He was warm and heavy, starting to push Robby over as he relaxed towards sleep.
Robby scolded himself for his negativity. He still had Jack. Many of the people who came rushing into this hospital wouldn’t get to hold their loved one again. Or if they did, it might be a desperate grasp of a limp hand, a kiss against dry lips, a last stroke of a hand over hair. He was one of the lucky ones... so much death. The weight of it all was crushing. All of the loss that he had witnessed and experienced. He felt the closeness of grief, all around them, the fragility of the warm breathing body against him.
He wrapped himself suddenly around Jack, needing to shield him, to prevent that cold touch from ever claiming him. If Jack died... dread rushed into him, dark and drowning, one day Jack would die. There was nothing Robby could do about that. No matter how tightly he held him, how closely he watched him, regardless of how much he loved him... the pain made him sob, a physical wound torn through the heart of him.
“Robby?” Jack sounded groggy, yanked from sleep by Robby’s distress. He sat up, grimacing at the pain in his head and the stiffness in his back, “What’s wrong?”
Robby dashed the tears from his cheeks but couldn’t stop them falling.
“Talk to me.” Jack urged, heaving himself up onto his knees so that he could turn and cup Robby’s face in both hands, concerned hazel eyes inches from Robby’s, “What’s wrong?”
Robby tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come, too monstrous to voice.
“Getting worried here brother.” Jack said sharply, “Talk to me.”
“One day...” Robby choked into silence, eyes swimming with tears, having to look away from Jack to compose himself, “One day you’ll die.” it broke him to say it, the fear of it clawing up his throat and spilling out of him.
For a moment Jack remained frozen in place, concerned, hovering... “Oh Jesus.” Jack exhaled, fond and exasperated, then Robby felt the curve of Jack’s laughing lips against his. Jack threw a leg over his thighs, hauling him down the bed in one forceful motion and then collapsing down on top of him, driving the air out of both of their lungs.
“Jack!” Robby squawked an undignified protest, flat on his back with Jack sprawled over him.
“I was asleep and you woke me for that.” Jack grumbled, still amused, pinning Robby down with his own inert body.
“Jack - get off.” Robby pushed at him but Jack just sank further down, going completely boneless apart from his arms around Robby’s shoulders.
“Alive enough for you?” Jack asked, tucking his head under Robby’s jaw and pressing down over Robby’s whole body, making himself as heavy as possible.
“Jack, the curtain’s not even closed. People are going to see.” Robby tried to reason with him even as his traitorous nervous system finally clicked out of high alert, the tension in his chest easing as the knot in his stomach unravelled. Jack’s body was a bulwark against his own fears, impossible to be absorbed by them when he could feel every beat of Jack’s heart, every breath. “Fuck them.” Jack said, and he sounded pleased with himself, as though he knew the effect he was having. Which he probably did – Robby's breathing and heartrate presumably just as clear to him as his was to Robby.
Robby wrapped his arms around Jack, drawing him down as though Jack had shown the slightest inclination to move, “I love you.”
Jack’s laugh was a huff against his skin, “I love you too.”
It was half one before they were leaving the Pitt, Jack on a pair of borrowed crutches, Robby carrying his bag. Robby was fishing in his pocket for the keys, he had dumped the car on the front in the spots reserved for Gloria and their donors. He had told himself that it didn't matter because there was a zero-percent chance of anyone entitled to use the spaces being here in the middle of the night. But he'd probably have done the same in the day in the circumstances.
Everything that wasn't gritted or heated was covered in a layer of ice and he moved closer to Jack, ready to grab him in case he slipped. "Shit, you must be freezing." he took in Jack's bare arms and his thin scrub top, "Have this." He shucked off his own jacket, immediately feeling the chill through his hoodie.
"Thanks." Jack paused, balancing on his good leg before exchanging his crutches for the jacket and slipping it on. The sleeves were too long but it was warm and insulating. Jack held out his hands for his crutches, settling them back under his arms and setting off again. "I might keep this, I think it's nicer than mine." He teased back over his shoulder.
"I'll get you one in your size." Robby shot back, catching up with him again.
"I want this one." Jack said resolutely, making a beeline for the car and nearly refraining from rolling his eyes as Robby beat him to opening the door.
"We'll see." Robby said, waiting by Jack as he slid into the passenger seat.
Jack dozed most of the way home, traffic as light as it ever got now that the celebrations were pretty much over. Robby kept stealing glances at him, ostensibly because he needed to check that Jack was okay, but mostly just to look at him. Jack's head was resting against the window, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, swaddled up in Robby's coat. The streetlights cast him alternately in sharp relief and then soft shadow. He looked peaceful, despite the white dressing glowing on the side of his head. Robby was glad he was comfortable enough to sleep. He just had to wake him up one more time, then Jack could sleep as long as he needed to.
Robby turned the engine off, parked on the drive. Often that was enough to stir Jack, the simple change from motion to stillness. Unsurprisingly not today, because if Robby was exhausted then Jack must be more so. Robby leaned over and put a hand on Jack's, "Jack," he called softly, "Jack, honey, we're home."
Jack gave a quiet snort and blinked open his eyes, head lifting immediately to take in his surroundings.
"We're home," Robby repeated, "Let's get inside."
Jack yawned, eyes slipping closed for a couple of seconds, a plausibly deniable precursor to going back to sleep.
"Jack." Robby squeezed his hand, "Come on love, let's get inside and into bed. Then you can sleep."
Jack nodded, eyes still closed, and stifled another yawn.
Robby led by example, getting out and letting a blast of cold air into the car before he slammed the door. This had woken Jack by the time Robby was opening the passenger door and holding out Jack’s crutches. Jack negotiated the exit from the car, and was just settling onto his crutches when there was a high screaming whistle.
Robby clocked Jack’s flinch before the sound, seeing the instinctive duck even as Jack’s hand shot out and grabbed a handful of his hoodie to drag him into cover. Jack recovered a second later as the firework exploded overhead, eyes flicking up to the green and red crackle spreading over the stars. Robby looked down at Jack’s fist, white-knuckled as though his body hadn’t quite understood that they weren’t under fire and he could let go.
“Sorry.” Jack said sheepishly, his smile embarrassed and apologetic, releasing Robby and making a fuss of straightening him up, “Force of habit.” Another firework speared up from somewhere a few hundred metres away, a bright orange trail that took Jack’s eyes with it. Robby braced for the explosion, tension in every muscle, eyes trained on Jack. The few seconds before it blew lasted an eternity, but Jack just grinned as it went off, blue sparks reflected in his eyes.
“You okay?” Robby asked, reaching out to put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, feeling the cold chill on the soft brown suede of his own jacket.
Jack nodded, smile perhaps just the wrong side of excited, “I’m sorry we missed the display.”
Robby shrugged, he was sorry too, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault – just one of those things. They would go next year.
Another series of bangs from behind him and Jack’s eyes going back to the sky told him that someone had quite the stash of fireworks saved for 2am.
“Watch these until the cops get here?” Jack suggested, shifting his weight onto one crutch and holding out his other arm so that Robby could tuck up against him.
Robby moved around Jack, sidling behind him and settling back against the cooling metal of the car, wrapping his arms around Jack’s middle and pulling him back, taking Jack’s weight. Jack relaxed after a moment, shifting his foot between Robby’s, letting his head tilt back onto Robby’s shoulder and watching rocket after rocket race up from the city.
Robby pressed a kiss to the side of Jack’s neck, squeezing him for a moment, “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” he said softly.
“Sap.” Jack said, just as quiet, before turning enough to see Robby from the corner of one eye, “I love you, you know? You’re just as amazing.”
Robby kissed him again, on the corner of his jaw, on his cheek, then pulled him closer, hugging around him, “I want this. Forever.” He could feel Jack vibrating slightly, knew that he was laughing, but he also knew that it was fond and that his feelings were returned – even if Jack was teasing him.
“Me too.” Jack said, affectionate and certain, “Now can I watch the fireworks and we can get back to the declarations of love when we're inside in the warmth?”
“Dick.” Robby muttered, “Not sure what you’re complaining about, you’re the one wearing my jacket while I get hypothermia.”
Jack pressed against him, canting his hips back into Robby.
“Not what I meant.” Robby said, shifting his hips to the side to try and keep some blood circulating. He felt Jack laugh again and Jack deliberately rubbed his ass back into Robby’s groin. “You’re missing the fireworks.” Robby pointed out.
“Prefer my own fireworks.” Jack shot back.
Robby shook his head, “Terrible.” he murmured, even as he leant in to kiss at Jack’s neck again, hips straightening up despite himself.
“Outside fireworks first.” Jack said, teasing and wicked as he pulled away from Robby’s mouth, propping his crutch against the car, his full weight resting on Robby, and taking Robby’s warm hand in his cold one.
It was only about 30 seconds later when the sky was suddenly full of trails of orange sparks, there must have been ten or twelve rockets going up at once. Bursts of white flashed across the sky before the coloured explosions caught up; red, blue, and green, arcs of coloured light and then the concussive blasts they could feel in their chests, streamers falling to earth with a high whine.
They stood for a few more seconds looking up into the empty night. Then Robby snuggled closer to Jack, “I guess the cops arrived.”
“Looks like it.” Jack said, a little sad, making no move to go inside, apparently content to stay here in Robby’s arms. Robby could feel him burrowing into the coat, tucking himself inside its warm folds. He pressed the tip of his freezing nose against the back of Jack’s neck and laughed as Jack hissed at him, “That should be illegal. You should get yourself a jacket.” Jack caught Robby’s hands and dragged them into the pockets of his coat to warm them.
“What have you got in here Robinavitch?” Jack asked, fishing in Robby’s right hand pocket and pulling out the obstruction. It was a small velvet box, “What is this?”
“No-” it was too late, Jack flipping the lid open before Robby could extract his hands from the pockets of the jacket and lunge to take it from him.
For a moment everything was still, Robby frozen in reaching, Jack holding the box open and looking in at the two dark bands nestled in the plush cushion.
“Robby....” Jack said quietly, almost a question.
Robby couldn’t speak, aware of every inch of the contact between them, unable to see Jack’s face, not knowing if there was concern or guilt hiding in his eyes.
“Robby - is this...?” Jack’s chest sounded tight, his voice strained.
For a split second Robby’s brain spun through ways of denying it, before he said, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Jack’s hands started to shake and Robby felt his answer in that moment with a sense of impending doom, something starting to tighten in his chest, pain at the back of his throat. Jack was going to try and let him down gently. He could feel the words forming in Jack’s mouth – it's just not the right time, not saying never, but not now. He reached out to take the box, needing to snap it shut, to take it back, rescind it.
Jack snatched it out of reach, “Shit. Sorry Robby.” he sounded panicked, fingers shaking so badly that Robby was worried he was going to drop the box entirely. Then Jack had fumbled it shut somehow and was pushing it against Robby’s numb palm, “Shit. Here.”
Robby’s fingers closed automatically. This was worse than he had ever imagined, worse than his worst nightmare. Jack wasn’t going to let him down with reassurances, he was going to bolt. This might not just be a stumbling block but the end of them, the moment that Jack realised that they weren’t thinking the same thing and ran for the hills rather than tie himself permanently into this. He wasn’t going to try and stop him.
Then Jack was doing it, physically pulling away, grabbing his crutch. Robby let him go, arms falling back to his sides. This was going to kill him. Jack hopped away a step, turning as he did so. Robby forced himself to look at Jack’s face and the naked panic there crushed whatever was left of his heart.
For a long moment neither of them moved. Jack’s eyes were wide and round, he was breathing fast, hands still shaking. Robby was numb, tear-stained, box burning into his limp grasp.
Jack broke first, “I’m so sorry, I didn't know....”
“It doesn’t matter.” Robby said automatically, he didn’t want Jack to feel guilty about this.
“Can you -” Jack licked at his lips, weight shifting, “Can we start over?”
It took Robby a slow stupid second to process that, dawn creeping through the darkness. He could feel the adrenaline pumping into his bloodstream. Jack wasn’t bolting. Jack wanted him to ask. Jack was going to say yes. Jack was going to say yes.
Joy and relief swept through him, and then he was crying, loud ugly sobs that rose into laughter, and then he was wrapped around Jack, both of them staggering, pulling him into a bear hug and lifting him off the ground, spinning him clumsily, crutch tangling between his feet, wavering as he fought for balance, spinning him again, face buried into Jack’s neck, laughing and crying. Jack said yes. He was going to marry Jack. Jack’s hands were on his face, pulling him up, kissing him, breathless and desperate.
“Yes.” Jack answered the unasked question, pulling back just enough to look directly into Robby’s eyes, “Yes. Always. Yes.” and they were kissing, Robby lifting him again, staggering back this time until they were against the car, Jack getting his foot to the floor and pinning him there. Jack crushed their lips together, tongue sweeping over Robby’s, soft wanting sounds breathed directly into the kiss. Eventually Robby had to push him away, gasping for air, foreheads together.
“What were you planning?” Jack asked, as they settled into a panting quiet, wrapped in each other.
Robby shook his head, holding up the little box, “It was good.” he said, sorry that he wouldn’t get to do it now, a little wistful, “At the fireworks, I had this whole speech memorised....”
“You can do it now.” Jack suggested, “I don’t want to feel I’m missing out.”
Robby shook his head, “Not the same now.”
Jack’s face twisted, “I am really sorry I fucked this up. I had no idea.”
Robby shrugged, pulling him closer, “You didn’t fuck it up. I love you and you said yes. It’s perfect.”
Jack didn’t look convinced, still guilty.
Robby leaned in and kissed him, eyes closing at the touch of soft lips, lips that were going to belong to his husband. It sent a warmth through him that the Pittsburgh night couldn’t touch. “I suppose, I didn’t technically ask you yet, so I could just wait for the right moment...”
Jack made an aggressive needy sound and snatched the box from him, “If you think you’re taking this back you are dead wrong.” he remained pressed against Robby, flipping the box open one-handed and gazing wide-eyed at the rings, “Which one’s mine?”
“The one on the left.” Robby said, soft and slightly awed, committing this moment to memory. Jack in his arms, looking down at his ring with the kind of reverence that nearly made Robby believe in a higher power. Jack ran his thumb over the cold metal, then over Robby’s beside it, “Did you want to wear them now?”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to,” Robby said quietly, “Or wait until we were officially married. Just wanted to be prepared.”
“Will you be offended if I want to wait until we’re married?” Jack looked up at him, checking in, “I want to try it on, but....”
Robby’s eyes crinkled, “Try it on, then we’ll save it for the wedding.” it sent a thrill through him. Their wedding. His husband. Jack. His husband Jack.
Jack held out the box and Robby leant forwards to take it, cold fingers tangling with each other, the box slipping from their hands and both grabbing urgently to catch it. Their heads collided but the box was wrapped in both their grip, neither prepared to let it drop. Jack let out a short groan, “Well that hurt.”
Robby looked up as Jack relinquished the box carefully and raised a hand to his forehead, “It wasn’t on your lac?”
Jack shook his head slightly, “No. Not far off though.” he checked his fingers but there was nothing coming through the dressing, “Ears are ringing.” he admitted after another second, “Might need to sit down.”
“Should we go back in?” Robby asked, anxious, flipping the box closed.
Jack rallied enough to glare at him, “No.” and he held out his hand, fingers spread, “Ring me.”
“I thought you wanted to sit down?”
“Fuck you.” Jack said neutrally, reaching over enough to yank the car door open and swinging himself onto the passenger seat, legs dangling out of the open door, he held out his hand again, silently demanding.
Robby smiled even as he shook his head, “I’m not sure I’m up to this, you’ll make me grey.”
Jack shot him a look, “Brother, you are already grey – and grey is in.” he indicated his own head.
Robby fiddled the ring out of the box, heavy and somehow permanent against his fingertips, then he caught Jack’s hand – not sure who was steadying who. The ring slipped down Jack’s finger, catching slightly on his knuckle and then settling. Robby could feel it warming against Jack’s skin. He didn’t want to let go. That was his ring. Jack’s ring. He leaned into the car to kiss Jack again, fingers tangling together, the unfamiliar press of the ring a steady reminder.
“I love you.” Robby said again, as though there could be any doubt.
“Even when I fuck up your proposal?”
“Which you didn’t.” Robby finished that thought conclusively.
“Missed out on your speech.” Jack said mournfully, reaching up to pull Robby into a mismatched hug instead.
“I’ll give it to you some other time.” Robby said, “Might rework it into my vows somehow.”
Jack was quiet for a moment, and then the moment stretched so long that Robby rubbed his back to make sure he was awake. “Jack?”
“Just thinking.” Jack said, “Worst part of this is that I think as soon as I’m in bed I’m gonna fall asleep.”
“We’ve got the rest of our lives,” Robby reminded him, “And you do have concussion.”
“Poor timing on your part,” Jack quipped, voice gravelly and starting to sound tired, “Maybe I’ll forget this whole thing happened and you’ll have to wake me with your proposal speech.”
“Don’t you dare forget this.” Robby said lightly.
Jack murmured something contented into his stomach, pressing against him, arms looped around Robby’s waist to keep him close.
“Hmm?” Robby asked.
Jack turned to the side enough to be understood, “Maybe I’ll keep forgetting and you’ll have to keep asking me.”
“If you want daily declarations of love I can do that.” Robby said, only half-teasing.
Jack made a quiet disgusted sound, as though he could never ask for such a thing, but Robby had felt the tightening of his arms. That silent request decided him, he would find some appropriate moment and propose to Jack properly, because it was important that Jack heard it. But not right now, because Jack was clearly flagging and that was fair because it had been a hell of a day. He squeezed Jack gently, trying to encourage him up. Jack just settled more firmly against him, apparently decided that he could actually sleep like this.
“Okay princess,” Robby said, deliberately light, “Let’s get you into bed.” he changed his grip, slipping his hands under Jack’s arms and lifting him onto his foot.
“Not a princess.” Jack groused, but he made no effort to support his own weight, relying on Robby to keep him upright.
“Come on husband.” Robby said instead, looping Jack’s arm over his shoulder and pushing the crutch under his other arm, “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Fiancé.” Jack corrected him as they headed up the path, “Future husband.”
“Okay,” Robby agreed, stopping at the door to get out his key, “Fiancé.”
“When you’re my husband I’ll be carrying you over this threshold.” Jack promised, “S’why it’s important.”
“Oh carrying me? What if I’m carrying you?”
Jack just shook his head, “You proposed, this is mine.”
“You’re mine.” Robby said, pushing the door open, wrapping an arm around Jack and lifting him over the threshold, kissing him through the outrage and kicking the door shut.
-