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"Still here, then." Robby can hear the measured slowness of Jack's steps heading toward the ledge he's leaning on more for support against exhaustion than the view. The kind of slow that's as cautious of the icy patches as it is the exhausted frustration twisting Robby's back into knots.
"Nowhere better to be." It's the simple answer, the only answer. His hands still sting from the last scrub-down maybe an hour ago, but he doesn't mind it. Just another reminder, one of a million little things clicking away in the back of his head.
Jack huffs, but doesn't say anything until he too is leaning over the rail without so much as a hoodie over his scrubs against the chill. "Well, yeah. Who's in bed at 2am on a Tuesday when triage is still hopping."
Robby frowns, sucks a deep breath of crisp and lets it out with a sigh. "Need an extra set of hands?"
"Nah. Team's got it nailed down for now. Gonna head home and catch a nap to cover six to ten."
"I can do it," Robby says, even though they both know he doesn't have it in him for another shift without a day off. He still offers, has to offer.
"It's good. Want a ride?" Robby shakes his head and feels the squeeze of Jack's palm on his bicep before his tone shifts to the familiar low rumble of something a little more appealing than playing passenger princess to an empty bed and his own thoughts. "You want a ride, Mike."
Robby nods. He does, he really does. Just a little time to clear his head, to feel something that isn't overwhelming or frustrating and sad. It's as telegraphed as every little movement between them ever is, Robby's not surprised when he turns his shoulder and is met with a brush of lips that's not a kiss along his lower lip, his chin.
It's not not a kiss, though. Another reminder that some things don't need to be known or said to just be. The biggest secret he's pretty sure everyone knows, even if nobody really needs to know.
Jack's firm grip slides upward along the shoulder of his jacket and finds the back of his neck, squeezing just firmly enough that Robby feels a little weak in the knees. Just the right amount of understanding force to quiet the litany in his head of all the things he couldn't fix. "Yes," Robby whispers, closing his eyes for another gentle touch that doesn't come this time.
"Okay." Jack's murmur is nearly eaten by the wind, but Robby doesn't need to hear what he can feel in the inch between them. "Let's go home."