Chapter Text
Day 1
Robby sighed at the sound of his alarm jolting him out of the semi-asleep twilight state, the emptiness of his bed a reminder about the morning ahead. Jack was pulling a double and had promised to meet on the roof longer than they usually manage so as to watch the sun rise together before Robby's day shift began. Jack had driven a hard bargain; he has insisted that Robby bring a decent breakfast for them to share as a condition. Despite Robby's protestations, no, as many shots of espresso as can fit in a keep cup and some nicotine gum is not, in fact, the 'breakfast of champions'. Robby smiled, remembering their last sunrise rendezvous, with Jack laughing at the suggestion and kissing him deeply, with the gentle touch of Jack's fingers sliding down from the side of his face to meet his carotid pulse. "It's 0650; the day hasn't even started. You're telling me it's totally normal to for your pulse to be 120?" Jack asked, resting his forehead against Robby's. "Hmm. Only when you kiss me like that" Robby retorted. So the plans were made, a decent breakfast, sunrise, a shift together, and then they'd start their days off together.
As ready to start the day as he was going to manage, Robby slipped out of bed and into the shower. His thoughts, as always were of Jack, hoping his night shift has been kinder than the last few. He rubbed a little of Jack's soap across his chest before getting out of the shower. Smelling like the both of them smelled like home. He also knew it'd drive Jack a little crazy, too, if he took any notice once the smell of breakfast hit him.
Robby padded into the kitchen after getting dressed. He had decided on a simple staple, toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Not so simple was making the soup from scratch without Jack noticing. Jack had come home from work to find Robby closing a container and sliding it into the fridge. He'd already washed all the evidence off the dishes, put the spice cupboard—not rack, cupboard—back in order. "You open this container before I serve it to you and I'll tie your shoelaces together. No guarantees the pairs will match. Or that they'll be pairs at all." Robby said, smiling as Jack embraced him from behind. Jack would have to wait and see. Robby made the final preparations with an obscenely expensive loaf of sourdough and the perfect cheese and headed out.
Robby had dusted off his nice knives when they'd bought their house, finally moving together instead of just de facto living at Jack's without ever really talking about it. Robby had two beautiful Japanese knives he sent off to get sharpened by someone who "wouldn't fucking destroy them" that Jack was still only tentatively allowed to use despite being a skilled cook in his own right. The rest were his staple extremely cheap, sharp as all hell Kiwi knives he purchased by the box. The morning after their first night in the new house, Jack was surprised when he walked into the kitchen to find Robby, headphones on, cooking up a storm. He didn't know how skilled a cook Robby actually was, and had no fucking clue how he'd found the energy after the backbreaking work getting the house ready. When the hell had he gone shopping? Where on earth did he learn to cook like that? The questions never made it to Jack's lips, the smell of the delicious breakfast silencing his thoughts. When he finally had overcome his food coma, Jack finally coaxed it out of Robby. "I guess there was a lot of sitting Shiva when I was growing up; you know I lived with my grandmother. She taught me to cook. It's what we do." Jack had constrained himself to responding only with a kiss, fearing overwhelming Robby after he'd opened up; it was not the time to try pry him open and ask why now?. Robby only cooked sporadically, now.
Robby drove to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and made his way to the roof. The sun was just starting peek over the horizon, perfect timing. Jack was leaning against the barrier, standing on the safe side for the first time in a while. Upon hearing the door squeak closed, Jack turned around, waiting to take Robby in his arms. Robby walked straight into them, putting the care package by his feet. Jack pressed himself deeply across Robby, taking a calming breath and relaxing at his touch.
"Hmm, you smell good. You trying to distract me? It's working." Jack kissed Robby's chest, over where his Magen David would rest. "The food smells good, too. I finally get to taste the results of your kitchen magic. You and your obsession with those tiny fucking bowls." Jack teased.
"Mise en place, French for 'getting your shit together', as my grandmother would say." Robby laughed. "She spent a lot of time helping in community kitchens and learned as much as she taught, I think. Can't get my French shit together without my tiny fucking bowls. It's toasted cheese sandwiches and home made tomato soup. Soup's a little spicy."
"Wise woman. I'm sure she'd be equal parts delighted and surprised you listened to her." Jack said, sitting down.
"Keep talking like that and I'll take my soup elsewhere, to someone nice to me." Robby said, joining him on the ground.
"If you disagreed with my assessment, you'd have argued instead of issuing grave threats." Jack teased. "That or the sleep deprivation is catching up to you again."
Jack sidled up to Robby as he unpacked the meal. Jack closed his eyes and savoured the smell of the soup, the wisps of steam rising to warm his face. The two men ate in companionable silence as the beautiful pinks and oranges of the sun rising in the sky gave way to blue.
"I could live in this moment forever." Jack sighed.
"Rough night?"
"No more than usual. Doesn't make staring down the barrel of another twelve hours any easier."
"How about staring down the barrel of T minus 12 hours until we can collapse into bed together and pretend this place doesn't exist for several days?"
"That was bordering on optimistic, Misha. You feeling all right?"
"What can I say? Good food, good company." Robby blushed every time Jack called him 'Misha'; this time was no exception.
"So my extolling the virtues of eating a decent fucking meal before work has finally sunk in?"
"If I say 'yes' will you shut up?" Robby asks, the slightest hint of warning creeping into his tone.
"Nope. Never. 'Til death do us part. I'm playing the long game here. I don't plan to be widowed again, so we gotta keep you in fighting shape. I come from a long line of nonagenarians so I really do mean 'long game'." Jack said, taking Robby's hand and kissing it.
"We're not even married."
"Not yet. Might as well be."
"I am not caffeinated enough to start planning a wedding." Robby said, kissing Jack's forehead. "What makes you think I want to be widowed? The ending of The Notebook is the best I can offer."
"You're such a sap." Jack laughed, nudging Robby's armpit with his shoulder. Robby, taking the hint, wrapped his arm around Jack.
"Said the pot to the kettle." Robby rested his head against Jack's curls.
Together they sat, wrapped in each other until Robby's pager went off.
"Just Dana wondering if we've died from food poisoning after eating my cooking. Best get down there and prove we're still standing."
"Speak for yourself. Why did I agree to a double?" Jack said, feeling the chill of the wind as he extricated himself from Robby's warm embrace.
"Ask me nicely and I'll remind you tomorrow, when we're both off." Robby whispered into Jack's ear, helping him up from the ground.
They both made their way down to discuss the board. There was nothing particularly interesting, just the same unyielding torrent of patients. Robby led Jack to the cupboard that passed for an on-call room; things were largely under control, the perfect opportunity to get a little sleep. "Breakfast was delicious, thank you. Let's do it again some time" Jack said, leaning up to kiss Robby. "See you in a bit."
With Jack taken care of, Robby bought a coffee, well, a large take out cup with seven shots of espresso and a touch of steamed milk and made his way back to the floor. The first sip of what the barista referred to as rocket fuel was the closest thing he had to the sweet rush of first cigarette of the day going straight to his head, now that he'd quit. The gum just didn't hit the same. The day shift was in full swing, Robby relishing the opportunity to ease into the shift, a surprise considering the other senior Attending was taking a much needed rest. Robby circulated through the department, the students, residents, and nursing staff touching base about the goings on. He never stopped for too long unless he was needed. Robby turned out of South 7, a likely broken arm that Doctor King had under control and found Jack, his smile warm and hair a little messy, handing him a coffee.
"Good morning again," Jack said.
"Oh, thank you. Finished already? Good sleep?" Robby said, accepting the coffee.
"You're welcome, yes it has, and yes it was, thank you. Anything interesting?"
"No, the kids seem to have it all under control. Same old shit, waiting for beds to open upstairs. Mohan is on chairs with a med student."
"Mohan?" Jack prompted, very familiar with Robby's equal appreciation of and frustration with Mohan's approach to patient care.
"She makes patients feel seen. She knows how to listen. That's what half the low acuity people really need from us. That and a sandwich. And refills they should be getting from primary care physicians they don't have. She gets them through. She's got an eye for who needs more than that."
"You get it." Jack tried not to gloat too much. "I told you."
"Credit where credit's due. She really hit her stride during—" Robby choked.
Mohan hit her stride during the PittFest Mass Casualty Incident, just over two months ago. During the MCI, she was quick, thought on her feet, she was attentive, and still acutely aware of the heightened dangers of patients falling through the cracks. She'd supervised the other residents well, and her trust in them engendered trust in her in kind; she had really shone. Jack tried to keep his face neutral; PittFest was still too raw for Robby to talk about. Now was not time to push the issue of talking to someone about it instead of remaining frozen in time, stuck but unmoored. To be honest, it terrified Jack that Robby was still ...uneven. Hardly sleeping, hardly eating, and totally closed off lest the smallest amount of honest vulnerability trigger an unrelenting avalanche of all the shit Robby had yet to really face. Jack put a hand on Robby's arm, the warmth of his touch centring Robby before he got too lost in the words stuck in his throat. "Yeah, she did hit her stride. I hope we can convince her to stay once she's finished her residency. Want to Good Cop/Bad Cop psych into finally taking these boarders?" Jack says, hoping to smooth over Robby's distress for now.
It isn't until Robby tentatively flits his gaze to meet Jack's for just a heartbeat that Jack realises Robby has almost certainly read too deeply into him suggesting they target psych. The redirection works, however. They manage to offload some boarders, and they hit up the ICU for a few more admits. With some ER beds freed up, they decide to divide and conquer.
A steady stream of patients, questions of families and residents alike, and seemingly cups of coffee with passed in a blur as it could at the end of a work week.
As the shift progressed, Robby and Jack gravitated to the board every so often, almost as if they'd scheduled it. As they stood close together, running down the patients together with Dana, Jack pressed himself against Robby's arm; I'm here, I see you. Robby stilled at his touch, not his usual rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Jack took inventory of Robby, he was clearly tired. He was vibrating out of skin a little bit, but that wasn't unusual at the end a of a string of shifts and the caffeine to back it up. Jack had hardly seen him without a piece of nicotine gum in his mouth. He seemed okay. Not great, not his usual silly self, maybe a little flatter than his post-PittFest holding pattern, but okay. Treading water. It was better than drowning, sure. He was okay. Between him and Dana, they'd keep watch over him and get this board sorted out.
The last hour of the shift was finally upon them. Robby and Jack met up at the board again, seeing what they could clear out before the night shift. The relief the attendings felt at the end of the shift being in sight was palpable. Jack set off to touch base with the residents and students, particularly getting on top of the more acute cases. Robby sat down at his work station, checking over the shift's charts. Not the most thrilling part of the job, but crucial for keeping things moving. Robby stood up, looking to follow up with Doctor Santos on some interesting labs. Immediately upon standing, Robby's head spun, his vision narrowed. He went to steady himself on the desk, and managed to slide down it on his way to the floor.
Jack noticed the movement in his peripheral vision. He apologised to Doctor King, who was mid sentence discussing a treatment plan, as he turned to the desk. He reached the desk to find Robby, limp on the floor. Jack took a deep breath in an attempt to settle the sting of panic rising at the sight before him.
"I need some help over here! I need a gurney!" Jack called out.
Doctor Ellis, a little early as usual, and Dana rushed to the desk as Jack reached up to take Robby's carotid pulse.
"Pulse is tachy and thready." Jack called out.
Jesse, Perlah, and Princess rushed over, gurney in tow.
Jack moved to Robby's head. They manoeuvred him onto the gurney and followed Dana into a room.
"Perfect timing; we've got a choice of rooms." Dana deadpanned.
"Perfect timing would have been never, or maybe at the beginning of the shift. Either way, it's deeply inconsiderate to wait until now." Jack's usual deadpan betraying the panic he was struggling to sit with.
Hands moving quickly sheared off Robby's scrubs and attached the monitors. Jack was gently nudged aside to give way to his colleagues inserting an IV and continuing their work.
"Shit, V-Tach," Ellis said, eyeing the monitors. "History, Abbot?"
Jack was frozen; the long work week, the particularly long shift, and his fears being realised hit him. He didn't have the energy to deploy a more productive coping mechanism. Robby was in good hands. Better than his, clearly. Jack knew that wasn't a helpful thought, but what else was he left with in this moment? Jack simply let the shame of allowing this to happen to Robby wash over him. Robby really not taking care of himself and bristling when Jack tried to take care of him (or even less productively, simply drawing attention to Robby's self destructive behaviour) was something of an ongoing project for Jack and his therapist. Having been on the other side of a slow motion, months long anxiety spiral about not looking after oneself, he knew he'd have to simply sit with his worry which, as had become a load-bearing joke, was a 'personal problem' of his, not Robby's. The best thing he could do was to respect Robby's autonomy, and acknowledge and accept the limits of what he could really do, and support Robby in taking it at his own pace. Oh, and to catch him if he fell. Didn't exactly fucking work, now, did it? It certainly didn't help that the absolute worst case scenario was unfolding right before his eyes. Gotta give Robby credit, when he falls, he falls hard. It'd be nice if he half-assed this instead of half-assing looking after himself. Jack took a deep breath, trying to ride out the wave of self hatred rising within him. Now was not the time to be swept up in it.
Dana drew Jack out of his thoughts a little with a gentle touch at Jack's elbow.
"Jack, honey, I need you to stand back a little further for a minute." Dana said, leading him.
"Does he have a history of arrhythmia?" Dana asked, her attention split between the commotion surrounding Robby and Jack's stillness.
"No?" Jack replied, unable to elucidate further, still stuck.
"Jack, look at me. He'll be fine." Dana said, firming her grip on Jack's arm. Jack had no fucking clue how much time had passed since he had last spoken. Everything seemed a lot calmer. It must have been a while. Doctor Ellis pulled a stool over toward Jack and Dana. Dana gently pushed Jack onto the stool and toward Robby, now stable.
"Jack, he's okay now. He only crashed a little bit. You tell him there are other ways to keep us on our toes, okay?" Dana joked, rubbing Jack's arm.
Jack took a deep breath, tuning out of his inner bullshit and focusing back to the world around him. Jack flicked his eyes up at the monitor; normal sinus rhythm, perfect pulse ox, blood pressure lower than it probably should have been. Fine.
"Can I get you anything, hon?" Dana asked, fitting Robby's hand in Jack's.
"No, thank you, Dana; you already gave me what I needed." Jack said, looking at Robby.
"Okay, I'll be back in a minute. Sit tight." Dana said as she walked out and shut the door behind her.
Jack adjusted his grip on Robby's hand, his index and middle fingers habitually settling on Robby's now strong and steady radial pulse. The two men usually found each other tethered at their pulse points; something so raw, so deeply intimate and grounding to which they each gravitate. I'm here. Be in this moment with me. I'm yours. It feels like a fundamental, universal constant has shattered for Robby's heart to falter.
Jack took a deep breath, wanting to wring out the panic still shaking him. Jack braced himself before looking over Robby. The harsh lights highlighted the deep purple under Robby's eyes. His skin was so dry and pale, almost yellow? His cheeks were gaunt, which was harder to notice under the beard. He looked sick. He was sick.
Jack reluctantly withdrew his hand from Robby's and turned to the computer to review Robby's chart. Dana and Ellis must have called in a few favours to get a quick consult or two done, especially at this time of night. Jack sighed in relief; it could have been a lot worse. Cardiology wanted monitoring for 24 hours and a few more tests to rule out something more serious, and they highlighted that his bloods were a fucking mess. That was both a relief and infuriating; there was probably nothing wrong with his heart. Robby was so anaemic Jack was amazed he could hold himself upright at all, same with his electrolytes. At least it probably wasn't his heart. He was okay. With the TLC with with Jack was been desperate to shower Robby, he should stay that way as long as they can get through the next 24 hours without incident. It was under control, and he was safe. Jack allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe this would finally be the wake up call Robby needed to finally stop running away from all of it. Jack cautiously allowed the spark of hope to settle in him. If this was as far as Robby fell without the network of professional care he continually refused, this could finally be the start of him getting his shit together. He sat in this cautious comfort, holding Robby's hand until Dana wheeled in a portable ultrasound machine.
"Thought you might want to do the honours." she says, parking the machine next to Jack.
"Thanks, Dana. Don't know what we'd do without you." Jack says, his eyes conveying the enormity of the sentiment.
Jack stood and raised the head of Robby's bed to 30 degrees before spreading the ultrasound gel over Robby's chest. Upon noticing that Dana has taken the time to warm the gel up, Jack smiled to himself. Jack checked some settings on the ultrasound and pushed the probe to Robby's chest. He performed the exam, checking the different views, and trying to be as thorough as he could so the cardiologist would have as much to work with as possible. Robby's heart looked fine, nothing immediately alarming. It felt a little surreal seeing the heart he knew almost as intimately as his own rendered in black and white. Jack paused for just a moment to appreciate the miracle before him, to let the awe wash over him and warm him, to let the love previously clouded over by fear back in. Robby was okay.
"Hey," Robby said, voice gravelly.
"Hey, Misha, how you feeling?" Jack said, a rush of relief and a tinge of worry hit him.
"I'm—" Robby began.
"I swear to god, if the next word out of your mouth is fine, I will have you committed." Jack interrupted.
"I feel like absolute shit." Robby admitted. "What happened?"
"You went down at the desk. You can have a look for yourself in a minute. Just gotta finish up here."
"Enjoying the view?" Robby smiled, raising an eyebrow at Jack. "You're at half mast, my love."
"No—" Jack began.
"Honey, I can see you." Robby laughed, both of them now looking at the bulge in Jack's pants.
"Half mast is for when people die; as we can see, dear, you are very much alive." Jack smiled, turning the ultrasound screen toward Robby. "I didn't even notice. Glad we don't have an audience; I'd never hear the fucking end of it."
Jack flexed the muscles in his thighs, willing his erection to stand down, to great success, thankfully.
"Not quite your weirdest erection, but it might be your sappiest, I'll give you that."
"You know you have that effect on me; you're captivating, what can I say?" Jack smiled fondly, completely agreeing with Robby's assessment and totally comfortable with it; it was true. "It's been a weird fucking day."
"Are you okay?" Robby asked, his tone softening.
Jack didn't take his eyes off the ultrasound screen. "You're the one in a tele bed, post cardioversion for an aetiology-yet-to-be-determined could-have-been-fatal arrhythmia, and you're asking me if I'm okay?"
"Yep." Robby challenged.
"I had to check your chart to find out what the hell happened. It was only a few minutes but after we got you on a gurney and the others started wheeling you away from me, I was gone. I haven't dissociated that hard in a while. I'm fine. Going to have a fucking field day in therapy next week."
"I'm sorry." Robby said.
Jack removed the probe from Robby's chest. Robby went to wipe the gel off before Jack gently pushed his hand away and took care of it.
"Please let me take care of you."
"I'll try." Robby said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking up at Jack.
"Do or do not, there is no try." Jack smiled tentatively, choosing to sidestep the bigger conversation they'd need to have later.
"You don't even like Yoda." Robby laughed, shaking his head.
"Yeah, he's full of shit; that in particular. When it works," Jack shrugged. "Let me get you a gown, I just need a minute to finish up here."
Jack attached the scans to the medical record, sent copies to himself, and turned off the ultrasound. He grabbed a gown and gently draped it over Robby's chest. Robby reached up for Jack's hand. Jack sat down again and cupped Robby's cheek with his free hand. Jack smiled warmly at Robby. The steady beep of the monitor sped up a little, Jack immediately turned to check. Still normal sinus, just a little faster.
"Jack, honey, I'm fine, after all these years you still make my heart flutter. That's all." Robby said, squeezing Jack's hand.
Jack's eyes lingered on the monitor, wary. The two men sat and enjoyed simply being with each other.
"I'm going to touch base with Ellis and Dana. Don't crump. I will not be happy." Jack strode out of the room.
Robby was left his thoughts and a wave of exhaustion hit him. He considered fighting it so he could look through his own damned chart but was just too tired to try. He'd rest his eyes for a minute, wait for Jack to bring back Dana and Ellis so he could get the fuck out of here, preferably before shift change, if it hadn't happened already. One set of colleagues bearing witness to his human frailty, about which he himself was still in denial, was already too fucking many.
"Shit, is he out again? No alarms, though." Ellis asked.
"Robby, honey, you with us?" Jack asked, reaching to check carotid pulse.
"I'm fine, fuck, I'm just tired." Robby said, trying to deflect Jack's arms.
"No shit, Sherlock." Dana said, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey boss." Ellis said.
Robby wordlessly reached out for the PTMC issue tablet she was holding. When Ellis ignored him, Robby raised his eyebrow, a usually sure fire teaching tool. Not so much when he's the one in the bed in a gown after having his clothes cut off.
"Jack, I drove to work today. You ready to head off?" Robby turned to Jack, not getting anything from Ellis.
Jack pursed his lips and looked to Ellis and Dana.
"I'll give it you both, this is going exactly how you said it would." Ellis remarked.
"We're going to keep you on deck until we can get you a bed upstairs. It shouldn't be long; Ellis here read them the riot act." Dana said tentatively as if she were approaching a wild dog.
"Absolutely fucking not. I am not spending my days off here. I am fine. A little arrhythmia never killed anyone."
Robby's attempt at a joke, trying to soften the blow of his refusal, sounded more like a threat. Judging by the pointed looks Dana, Ellis, and Jack were trading, things were not going his way. The speed of the incessant fucking beeping broadcasting the panic breaking through the medications he'd been administered earlier, making him feel like his chest was going to fucking explode wasn't exactly helping his case.
"Honey, please." Jack said, rubbing Robby's hand.
"You know you need to stay, to make sure this doesn't happen again. We need a clearer picture of how this happened in the first place." Ellis said plainly.
"I want to go home. I want to be in my own bed. You're telling me you don't have something in your excessive bag of surplus medical tricks at home? I'll do whatever you want but I will not stay here. Can I please look at my fucking chart? I still have no idea what happened." Robby barked.
Ellis relented and handed over the tablet and watched Robby read.
"Would you let me go home if our roles were reversed?" Jack asked quietly, pinning Robby with his gaze.
"Knowing I could look after you at home, yes, I would." Robby snapped.
Jack shook his head and kept his retorts to himself. They both knew Robby would sooner have put him in hard restraints than let him leave. Arguing wasn't going to do much good. Jack was at the same crossroads at which he'd found himself a lot recently; push Robby, maybe force his hand, or, hope he comes to his senses before he really hurts himself? Jack realised Robby would sooner walk out half naked with nowhere to go than to stay here. He'd have chewed his own arm off if he had to. That thought genuinely terrified Jack; he didn't recognise this Robby. He couldn't quite feel around the edges of Robby's anger, what exactly was underpinning the apparent extreme distress. Jack didn't understand. Robby was not exactly rational right now. If he were, he'd be taking a nap and awaiting transport upstairs.
"Look, being discharged under the watchful eye of Doctor Abbot, I'll live. I'm just running on fucking empty; that isn't going to be fixed by staying here. Seriously, I've had fuck all sleep in the last seven days I've been on, I've had an unbelievable amount of caffeine, breakfast was the only decent meal I've had in maybe three days, and I'm starting to think my nicotine gum habit might more hazardous to my health than smoking. It won't happen again. Discharge me with antiarrhythmics, we can monitor at home. I am not fucking staying. I do not give a single shit; I am leaving." Robby's tone was venomous. He started pulling leads off his chest.
"These stay on until we're ready to leave." Jack stilled Robby's hands, sighing in defeat.
Jack had held Robby while they rode out his panic attacks together. He'd held Robby while he cried so much he vomited. Jack had never seen Robby like this. Robby needed to be here. He needed monitoring, medications, tests so they come up with a proper fucking plan, and critically, he needed to be in the fucking hospital where their colleagues could intervene if he had another episode of V-Tach before it could turn to a fatal arrhythmia. Robby knew he needed to be here. He'd be okay if he just fucking stayed here. Jack didn't understand why Robby was fighting it this hard.
"I can help you get set up at home, Jack." Dana offered.
"We'll take the antiarrhythmics and some normal saline to go, please, Doctor Ellis, Dana." Robby said.
"If you insist, boss, can do." Ellis replied, documenting her orders.
"How thoughtful of you to drive today, Michael, presumably parked in my usual spot so I didn't have to walk home after pulling a double at the end of an already long week." Jack said, making his reluctance known.
"Doctor Ellis and I are going to confer, then I'll be back with supplies, discharge papers, and a wheelchair. If I need Jack to sit on you to keep you in it until you can get in the car, so be it." Dana said turning out of the room, Doctor Ellis in tow.
"My keys are in my locker. By the time you get back I'm sure Dana and Ellis will have sorted me out." Robby said gently.
"You're shitting me. You think I'm leaving you unsupervised? I'll wait until Dana gets back and we'll go together." Jack said, matter-of-fact.
"Thank you." Robby said, now keenly aware of the impenetrable walls Jack had put back up.
Jack just sat, rubbing Robby's hand and staring at the monitors. He was afraid if he looked at Robby's beautiful tired eyes he'd say something in a way he'd regret saying it. They sat, their hands entwined, habitually finding each others' radial pulses, connected like a lifeline, despite the distress the both of them felt.
"Let's get you two lovebirds home." Dana said.
"I'll go pull the car up. Be right back." Jack left the room briskly.
"Go easy on him, Robby. Don't fight him." Dana said as she busied herself unhooking the monitors. "You scared the shit out of us today. You need to be here. You know that."
"I just need to be at home." Robby said, too tired to argue further. The exhaustion nudging him past the event horizon of being willing to argue now that he'd managed to avoid admission.
"Are you going to crump getting into the chair?" Dana asked.
"I'll be fine. I'll go slow." Robby said a little petulantly.
"All right, let's get you sitting on the edge of the bed first." Dana said, helping him up.
Dana unfolded a jacket, one of Jack's, and helped him into it.
"There you go. Good as new. Though I'm sure the kids would love to get a glimpse of you topless." Dana said, zipping the jacket up.
Robby blushed deeply. "I really don't think so." Robby said, avoiding Dana's gaze.
"You really have no idea how others see you, do you?" Dana remarked, shaking her head.
"No fucking clue what you mean by that." Robby sighed, accepting Dana's hands guiding him into the wheelchair.
Dana disengaged the brakes and pushed Robby out of the room. Robby must have looked like absolute shit; he was expecting to be heckled out the door, but it was quiet. Thank god for small mercies. The brisk outside air was a surprise; Robby's eyes must have closed some time on the journey out.
Jack opened the passenger door, reclined the seat a little. He wordlessly helped Robby into the car and buckled him in. Dana jumped in the back seat as Jack hopped in the driver's seat.
Robby awoke to Jack unbuckling him. They'd made it home, safe and sound. Jack threw the keys to Dana who opened the front door.
"Okay, gentle now," Jack said, lifting Robby's feet out of the car. "You going to make it to the bedroom?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I could use a shower." Robby said, getting to his feet.
"Best I can do is a sponge bath." Jack said. "Come on, let's get inside."
Jack wrapped his arm around Robby's broad chest and escorted him inside. Robby flopped down on the bed.
"Would you mind making sure he doesn't fucking die while I get set up?" Jack's voice was tense.
"It's what I'm here for." Dana smiled.
Jack nodded and headed into the garage. He was eminently thankful that he and his therapist had approached his eccentricities, especially his hoarding-equipment-as-a-coping-mechanism tendencies with flexibility. Did Jack really envision genuinely needing all the equipment he had? No. Did having it cause a clinically significant reduction of his levels of distress? Yes. Did indulging these hoarding impulses cause problems? No. Early on, Jack had had therapists that weren't as flexible, thoughtful, and pragmatic. Some of them didn't seem to understand the difference between the letter of the law and the spirit of it, at least as far as his diagnoses, symptoms, and the realities of living with them went. Jack pulled out a few big tubs from the extremely tidy, clearly labelled shelves, gently placed poles for the stands on top, and made his way inside.
Jack put the tubs on the floor, flipped the lids off and assembled the stands. He pushed the IV stand over towards Robby and Dana, and Dana hung a fresh bag of saline. Jack mounted a patient monitor on the stand. As Jack got all the leads plugged in, he allowed the rhythm of the simple repetitive actions and the comfort the monitoring would bring relax him, at least until Robby's next lash out, or cardiac event, whichever came first. Jack's breath caught as the thought passed through him. One very frustrating reality Jack and his therapist dealt with is that the snide comments that popped up in his thoughts had a tendency to become intrusive thoughts that just had a knack for coming true. He knew it was irrational and that it wasn't helpful, but when it all seems to be made real, it's overwhelmingly difficult to cut those anxiety spirals off before they become Too Big when the usual defences are usually underpinned by statements like I can't tell the future and that is disproportionate and irrational. What if they weren't totally irrational? What if they are distinctly possible outcomes? What if they are the inevitable outcome of the last five years? This was the day Jack had been bracing for. It happened. Robby's mental health had been deteriorating for a long time prior to PittFest. With Robby's worsening mental and as a result physical health, Robby's refusal to accept even the tiniest bit of help, his refusal to talk about anything with literally anyone had been an ever growing source of anxiety for Jack. Jack had been essentially practising a zen exercise in watching a slow motion car crash happen while doing nothing more than watching it unfold or asking it to stop, please. He couldn't force Robby to get help. He knew trying would push him further away from both him and help. He had to meditate on that daily. Now it was happening on a much faster time scale; Robby's refusal to be admitted, even for the night, was pushing Jack to breaking point.
Jack felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"You shower. I'll get him set up. Take as long as you need." Dana said.
"Thank you, Dana." Jack hugged her and walked into the en suite.
Jack managed to make it into the shower before the sobs tore through him.
Dana helped Robby out of the hoodie, wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm, clipped on the pulse oximeter, and removed the electrodes already on his chest with a new set with the ECG cables attached. Thankfully, he remained compliant despite his obvious discomfort. Dana turned the monitor on, with sound, and double checked everything was operational.
"I'm going to poke around in the kitchen and see what I can put together." Dana said.
"I'm really not hungry." Robby replied.
Dana sat on the bed, pressing up against Robby's hip. She took his hand in hers and waited for him to look her in the eye.
"Please, do it for me. Do it for Jack. You know you need to eat. Need I remind you of your bloods? You said you'd do anything. Time to keep that promise, Robby." Dana said firmly.
Tears welled in Robby's eyes. He averted his gaze; he couldn't bear to look at his own body, the monitors, or one his closest friends. The beeping of the monitor started to speed up. Dana rubbed Robby's hand.
"Michael, breathe, hon" Dana said.
The use of his given name made him feel even more bare, vulnerable. He thought he'd be safer at home, but the walls were closing in all the same, like the sword of Damocles; inevitable, total destruction that could swing at any time. He was cornered. Ellis had gotten him a bed upstairs where the staff would either not know or care who he was, or would be sufficiently intimidated by him that he'd retain some sense of control. He tried taking a breath, but couldn't; his lungs were already full of stale air. He willed his lungs to cooperate; a full scale freak out would find him straight back at fucking PTMC. He choked a little as he tried to tamp the burning discomfort and forced himself to exhale. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in.
"There we go." Dana searched for his gaze.
"Fine. I'll eat. I don't have anything prepared. I was going to cook for Jack on our time off." Robby said, still avoiding looking at Dana.
"Okay, well, I'm certainly not the cook in my family, but I'll see what I can do." Dana kissed Robby on the forehead and made her way to the kitchen.
He was grateful Dana had given him a moment to himself. Left with the inescapable beeping, the cool saline he could feel dripping into his antecubital vein, and his messy, tired thoughts, he wished for nothing more than to simply disappear. He wanted them to just let him go, to let him fucking die. He allowed his tears to fall, hoping to just let them out and be done with it before he had company watching his every move again.
Jack was still sheltering under the shower head. He'd lost track of time. The sobs had stopped, thank fuck. He didn't have the energy to waste on drawing that indulgence out. Yeah, he knew what his therapist would say about that particular framing of crying in the shower, even without the rollercoaster the last few hours had been. Jack shifted on the shower bench, begrudgingly checking his leg. He didn't have the luxury doing a half-assed check, even if he was somewhat letting himself off the hook and not fighting the level of dissociation his brain now wanted to consider homeostatic. Fucking hell. Jack made a mental note to try scheduling a session with his therapist tomorrow. He'd need all the help he could get.
Jack put on clean pyjamas and braced himself, unsure of what kind of a mood Robby may be in. He feels a pang of guilt; Robby had been having a rough time. He'd had a shit day. By the sound of it, Dana was able to get him set up with monitoring. Jack felt a swell of love for Dana. She'd been a constant in his and Robby's lives for a long time, now. She was one of a very select group that Jack trusted to the end of the earth. Jack grabbed a set of crutches and headed out to the bedroom. He went slowly, as if trying to avoid startling Robby. Maybe he was just trying to avoid the potential confrontation brewing. He knew they were too tired to fight but there were still a few things to do this evening before they could collapse into bed. He still needed to help Robby eat, fuck knows what, get clean, and change into some cleaner clothes. It was probably not going to be easy.
Robby's eyes were closed, and Jack felt guilty at his relief. He did a quick check of the monitor and made his way into the kitchen.
"You must be an angel" Jack said to Dana, who had commandeered the kitchen.
"I'd reserve judgement until after you taste it." Dana chuckled.
"We have enough spices to wake the dead."
"I don't think that's how it's works."
"We'll see." Jack laughed.
"How you holding up?" Dana asked sincerely, leaning against the bench.
"I don't know if I can do this any more. I can't keep watching him kill himself like this. He wouldn't even stay for fucking monitoring; I don't understand what the fuck is going on with him. I've dissociated more in the last few hours than I have all year. I don't think I can sleep this one off." Jack admitted.
"Will you be okay handling him alone tonight? Is there anything else I can do? I can stay. Ellis also prescribed diazepam, there's a vial in the bag. He was given midazolam earlier, just a reminder. What the hell are we going to do with him?" Dana said.
"At this point, I have no fucking clue. I'll see how well he reacts to the suggestion of benzos. I'm worried he's going to try to run. I'm worried he'll go down again, totally fucking alone. I am worried how ...irrational he's being. I'm terrified he's going to actively hurt himself. I've never seen him like this." Jack took a deep breath. "I am just so fucking angry. There was a whole five minutes where I thought finally, this is it, he'll finally accept how badly he needs help. This is a good soft landing all things considered. I relaxed for five fucking minutes thinking he might finally just see how fucking sick he is." Jack said.
"I'm finding it hard to describe him refusing to stay after sustained V-Tach as passively trying to hurt himself." Dana said.
At that moment, the rhythm of the monitor changed and an alarm sounded. Dana switched off the stove and ran in, Jack followed closely once he'd grabbed his crutches.
"I'm fine, I swear to god. Maybe you should up the threshold for alarms or nobody's getting any fucking sleep tonight." Robby snapped.
"You're lucky, you've been prescribed diazepam. You'll be able to get some sleep." Jack said tersely.
"I'm not taking any more fucking benzos." Robby said flatly.
"You said you would do whatever was asked of you if you could come home. If you're going to break that promise, I'll take you to Presby, and I guarantee you, they will not be as patient or accommodating. Is that what you want? Is that really how you want this to go? Say the fucking word. Christ, I might finally get some god damned sleep knowing you're at least fucking safe." Jack said, his rage unmistakable.
Robby burst into tears. Jack, unable to cope, made his way back to the kitchen. It felt like he was leaving a piece of his heart behind. He knew he'd regret not comforting Robby in this moment but he was simply not in the head space to do it. He hoped Robby would forgive him. Dana was there. He wasn't alone. He probably appreciated a break from being scrutinised by Jack's unyielding gaze. Jack picked up where Dana left off; she'd thrown together a vegetable soup. Jack grabbed three bowls out, and grabbed small folding tray out for Robby. Jack sighed, he'd need both his hands. He turned the soup down to a simmer and donned his hands-free crutch. He took the time to email his therapist to ask for some of his time.
Jack loaded up the three bowls of soup onto the tray and took them into the bedroom. Dana was sitting on the bed, comforting Robby, and she made way for Jack to take her place. She moved to the armchair just to the side, next to the door to the en suite. Jack gently placed the tray over Robby's lap and handed Dana a bowl. Jack waited for Robby to start eating before picking up his own bowl. The three ate, the air still a little tense. Once they'd all finished, Dana collected the tray and the bowls.
Jack sat, just watching Robby who was still refusing to look at him. Jack stood, kissing Robby's forehead on his way to the kitchen.
"I'm going to head off, leave you two to get some sleep, unless you want me to stay?" Dana said, putting the last of the dishes on the drying rack. "I got him to agree to take the diazepam."
"No, Dana, you go home and get some sleep yourself. Thanks again for, well, everything. Dinner was delicious. I'll call you or one of my night shifters if I need anything. You know, like euthanasia supplies. I'll flip a coin who gets to take the nice way out."
Dana wrapped her arms around Jack. "Any hour, for any reason, you just call, okay?"
"I will. I hope I don't fucking need to. I couldn't have done this without you. Thank you."
Jack escorted Dana out and prepared to help Robby bathe and change. He grabbed a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with warm water. He went into the bedroom and set the bowl on the bedside table. Jack grabbed everything else he needed from the en suite and sat down. As he turned to dampen the cloth, Jack's hand was interrupted by Robby's. Jack stilled. He waited for Robby to make the next move. Robby gently removed the cloth from Jack's grasp and pulled Jack's hand to his cheek. Jack moved closer, seeking comfort of his own in connecting with Robby. Jack pressed his forehead to Robby's. Neither man dared to speak.
They were both bone tired. Robby started to shimmy out of his pants, and yielded to Jack's hands pulling them down and off for him. Robby watched as Jack emptied his pockets and folded the pants before putting them in the laundry hamper. He pulled out Robby's favourite comfy sweatpants and lay them on the bed. Jack sat down again, and Robby complied with Jack's gentle manoeuvring. They continued in relative silence, the beeping of the monitor speaking for both of them.
Dana had unpacked the care package from the hospital and had set the supplies out neatly. She and Ellis had clearly planned, they had given him pretty much everything that they could give him in order to keep Robby alive and stable, including some options pending the cardiologist's review. They were set up well to batten down the hatches for a while.
"Is there anything else you need before I give you the diazepam and we can go to sleep?"
"No. Thank you for looking after me. I'm sorry. I love you." Robby said gently.
"Don't Ho'oponopono me. Nobody is dying. I'm sorry, Misha. I love you, too." Jack said, his stare unyielding.
Jack pushed the medication, and Robby let it cushion him into a calm he'd not felt in years. Jack crawled into bed beside Robby and helped him get more comfortable. Jack crawled on top of Robby, burying himself in Robby's chest despite the logistical issues. Feeling his warmth, breathing, and hearing his heart beating steady again just for a moment. Robby draped an arm around Jack and rubbed his back in calming circles. Jack almost fell asleep, but caught himself. Jack pulled away and checked he'd not disturbed the leads before sliding back over to his own side of the bed. Robby's hand reached over and found Jack's. Robby fell asleep. Jack, too tired and too wired lay awake, counting Robby's heartbeats like sheep. It worked, eventually.
Jack was awoken by another arrhythmia alarm; the arrhythmia resolved without intervention, but Jack, checking the time, decided to replace the now empty saline bag and push more antiarrhythmic medication. Jack crawled back into bed and fell straight to sleep.
Day 2
Robby awoke, the light bleeding around the bedroom curtains. He needed to piss. One benefit to dehydration was not needing to piss as much despite drinking enough coffee to damned near kill him, apparently. Jack was curled up tight in the bed next to him. He looked utterly wrecked. His brow was still furrowed, even in sleep; Robby hadn't seen Jack wound that tight in a long time. Had he looked, really looked, recently? They were almost always touching when they were at home. Their physical closeness could sometimes act as a buffer for intimacy rather than a conduit. How often lately had he been entwined with Jack, even curled up on his chest while being totally buried in his own thoughts? It was certainly easier to avoid Jack's intense eye contact and the scrutiny that accompanied it when he was in the other man's arms. He pushed the thoughts aside.
Robby sat up on the edge of the bed. He had a decent look at what Jack and Dana had set up. Resisting the urge to rip it all off him, Robby planned. Pretending he was simply doing this for a patient, he pushed the monitor and the IV with him into the en suite. He kept his gaze pointed toward the ceiling, avoiding looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. Robby enjoyed the sweet relief, cleaned himself up, still avoiding his own gaze, and made his way back to bed, finding Jack still asleep. Robby settled into bed, again ignoring that petulant voice inside him telling him that none of this was fucking necessary, and he picked up the novel he'd been reading and with the newfound energy from good sleep, good food, and fucking hydration, he sped through it. He finished the novel and was suddenly struck with the feeling of being watched.
"Hey," Robby said, carding his long fingers through Jack's curls.
"How you feeling, Misha?" Jack asked, voice a little rough from sleep.
"I'm okay. I almost feel human again after sleep, food, and hydration." Robby smiled tentatively.
"I hung another bag overnight, and gave you more meds. Arrhythmia alarm went off overnight, no biggie." Jack said, finally moving, leaning into Robby's touch.
"Thank you," Robby said simply.
"Do you want to eat breakfast here or at the table?" Jack asked.
"I would love to get out of bed." Robby smiled. "We could eat outside?"
Jack pursed his lips, looked at the monitors, considering it. "It is a lovely day."
Jack put on his hands-free crutch and grabbed a hoodie for Robby. Robby met him at the edge of the bed and accepted Jack's help putting it on, carefully navigating the IV and monitoring leads. Jack kicked out a pair of slippers from under the bed and Robby slid into them and stood up. Robby and Jack made their way to the kitchen, where Robby continued to the fridge, pulling out supplies for the breakfast he'd planned to make for Jack.
"Not today, Misha." Jack said, putting everything back in the fridge.
Jack's phone buzzed. Dana had texted.
I'm bringing breakfast. Need anything from work?
Perfect timing. He was just about to start playing with knives. We're all good for supplies thx
"Dana's bringing breakfast." Jack said, tapping away on his phone.
"What did we do to deserve her?" Robby said, letting Jack guide him to their kitchen table where they both sat down.
"I think we're like trauma bonded stray cats that can't be separated." Jack mused.
Dana let herself in, carrying big bags from their favourite bakery in her arms. She put the bag on the table and hugged Jack, checking in with him first. They had a conversation entirely in facial expressions.
"Haven't kicked the bucket, yet, I see." Dana said, hugging Robby.
"I'm—" Robby began, pausing when both Dana and Jack stared daggers into him. "...doing much better than yesterday, thank you."
"Let's go eat outside. You warm enough, Dana?" Jack asked.
"I'm all good, thank you." She replied.
Dana grabbed the food and went to the patio. Jack waited for Robby.
"I'm going to turn the sound off." Robby declared and fiddled with the monitor. "I won't touch anything else, even your needlessly low threshold alarms."
Jack didn't interfere, but watched carefully. They made their way outside. Dana had unpacked the feast, and Jack and Robby sat down.
Jack took a moment to appreciate the garden. The previous owners had been dedicated gardeners, and the lush, colourful, and thoughtfully curated garden was something they'd made sure to keep up. He and Robby had added some planters for herbs and vegetables. It was so easy for Jack to feel connected and safe in their little sanctuary. Jack often found himself under a tree, focusing on the touch of the grass when he needed reminding him he was no longer in a desert on the other side of the planet. It was the perfect place for some light work gossip, trash talking, and some of the best baked goods and coffee in the city. "It's just a double shot; with the way he's been going he's probably going to have withdrawals if we cut him off cold turkey." Dana defended herself against Jack's pursed lips and razor-sharp raised eyebrow as she handed Robby a coffee. The three of them ate and drank, and Robby pretended not to notice Jack checking him over like clockwork.
"I've told Gloria you'll both be off for a couple of weeks, maybe longer." Dana said carefully. Robby hid his face in his hands. He'd usually lash out, being cornered like this, but between the monitor transcribing in the real time the physical symptoms of his wildly out of control distress and the unbeatable one-two punch of Dana and Jack before him, he knew there was nothing he could say that wouldn't simply dig him in deeper. It was fucking humiliating. Robby remained still, frozen in this utter hell. The monitor started chiming, the familiar sound of several different types of alarm cutting through him. Jack roughly acknowledged the alarm and stood. He wrapped himself over Robby, pressing as much of his torso against and around Robby as heavily as he could.
"You gotta breathe, Misha," Jack instructed gently.
Robby shook his head slightly. The sob trying to rip through him would escape if he breathed, and that would certainly not help his No, really, I'm okay, stop looking me at like that, please case. Fucking hell, he had a bit of a medical episode, what the fuck was the big deal? Like they'd never run themselves into the ground and scared the hell out of him. They were acting like he was trying walking off the roof of PTMC, which would never be his chosen method in the fucking first place, but none of it mattered. If there was anyone not coping, not handling things, it was them. He had to run. He just had to fucking run. To where? Doesn't matter; anything is better than having the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. He had to get out now.
Jack, hardly making headway on the Robby Needs To Fucking Breathe project, pulled back a little to kiss Robby's temple and then slid his hands between Robby's, still planted firmly on his own face, and then up, gently but decisively prying Robby's hands away. Jack held Robby's face, and moved into Robby's eye line as best he could; his hands-free crutch impeding his ability to get closer to the ground.
"Tell me what you're thinking." Jack asked softly.
Robby tried to breathe, gasping a little and failing. He coughed, and Jack took the opportunity to push Robby's hunched shoulders out a little. Jack pushed his way between Robby's legs and rubbed his back. Jack breathed deeply to try centre himself. Dana slipped inside.
"Honey, please, just say something."
"I'm fine. Let me go. Get off me. I'm—" Robby coughed. The monitors were still flashing though the alarm sound had been silenced.
Dana returned and flashed the vial of diazepam at Jack, who nodded. Jack guided Robby's arm up so Dana could reach the IV to push the medication. Jack pulled Robby's head against his chest, and as the diazepam kicked in, felt Robby soften against him as the panic was forced to abate. Dana rubbed Robby's back. Jack loved Michael to the end of the earth. God help anyone or anything that tried to get in the way of that. The only thing getting in the way of that was Robby himself.
"Stay with me," Jack pleaded.
Robby couldn't ignore the agony in Jack's voice. He pulled back and looked up at Jack's face, tears gently falling down his face. Robby hadn't seen that harrowing expression on Jack's face since a particularly horrible day some time soon after Jack's amputation. Robby had walked in to Jack's hospital room where Jack's entire multidisciplinary care team, either ignorant or simply past the point of giving a shit, could be heard discussing Jack in the next room; they were practically placing bets on how long Jack would last before ending it all. A point of contention among the group, who had totally derailed their discussion of Jack's care, was whether Jack would find the determination and make tidy work of it despite the fact he'd never have mobility if he remained, in their eyes 'non-compliant' with his rehabilitation, or whether he'd 'waste away and end up warehoused in a long term care facility somewhere. If he's going to act like a fucking vegetable, he's going to get treated like one. It's his prerogative. Like, come on, you really think he's going to—'. Robby doesn't really remember what happened after that. He'd walked into the room like a man possessed, said something to these people Jack couldn't hear, and the care team practically ran out of the room. Jack never saw them again. Robby didn't come back to Jack immediately. He must have immediately called in every single favour he could because hours later, they were boarding a plane, stack of medical records in hand, to meet his new care team in the hope they'd actually listen to Jack. It had changed the entire course of Jack's life. Being there had very nearly killed Jack. Seeing that look on Jack's face once again broke Robby. He was haunted by the memory of where Jack's hard won mobility, health, and sanity journey started, in that hospital bed, surrounded by people who had written him off so completely they had already counted him among the dead.
Robby sobbed into Jack. Jack tightened his grip on Robby, desperately wanting to take all the pain from Robby; Jack knew he could bear it for the both of them.
"I'm so tired, Jack." Robby admitted. "Just let me go."
"I know you're tired, Misha. Let's get you inside. Couch or bed?" Jack asked.
"Couch."
Dana helped steady Robby; his long limbs were even less coordinated than usual with the diazepam starting to cloud everything. The three of them made their way back inside. Dana pulled some pillows from their bed, and tucked Robby in on the couch. He was out. She turned the monitor's sound back on and gestured for Jack.
"How you holding up? Need me to hold down the fort while you go for a run? Need me to drive the getaway car?"
Jack sighed, a litany of facial expressions moved across his sharp features; Jack's expressions usually became whole body affairs, and when he stilled he delivered his carefully prepared words with an overwhelming focus. "I can't give him the level of care he requires if he won't let me. He was okay yesterday. What the fuck is happening?" Jack said simply, knowing Dana would understand the seriousness of what he was implying. Dana nodded, and folded Jack into a tight embrace. "I cannot watch him die like this."
"You and me both, Jack."
Jack's phone buzzed, a message from his therapist, with a few options for appointment times for that day.
"Can you take over guard duty for an hour today? My therapist can fit me in. Any of these times suit? I'll probably just do the session via telehealth; my leg is in fucking ruins and I'm going to have a five alarm fucking meltdown if I have to leave the house in this much pain."
"You pick whenever works for you; I'll be here."
"Thank you, Dana."
Jack replied to his therapist and got ready for his session. He tidied up the bedroom a little and ditched the hands-free crutch. He sat down at the bureau, waiting for the call.
Jack emerged an hour later, not necessarily feeling like he had all the answers but grateful for the help wrangling his thoughts.
"Hey Dana, I'm going to crash. Poor choice of words," Jack deadpanned. "I'm going to have a nap, after which I'm going to have a very difficult conversation with Robby. I'm thinking I do that alone. If, when, he freaks out, he can turn to you. If you and I are a united front, he has nowhere to run and no one sufficiently trustworthy to turn to. Thoughts?"
"Good plan. What are aiming for? Agreeing to an inpatient psych admit? You got somewhere in mind?" Dana asked tentatively.
Jack spoke quickly. "Hospital would be an absolute last resort, if we could even find anywhere safe that would even take him so soon after an episode of sustained fucking V-Tach. Considering how combative and reactive he his at the suggestion he needs to be on tele for 24 hours, or that he needs to take some fucking time off, I'm worried we're looking at psychiatric ICU for a few days if we do have to hospitalise him. He needs one-to-one as is, even in the relative comfort of home. He couldn't be on even a high care ward, he's too big a suicide risk, especially in hospital. I don't want to traumatise him like that unless it is absolutely necessary. My therapist, psychiatrist, and I have an agreement and extremely detailed plans on how to help me if I become that unwell, down to the kinds of medications and other treatments I am willing to undergo and under what circumstances. I won't go to those places and I'm not prepared to put him in one. It's an absolute last fucking resort. I'd sooner sedate him here with carefully selected meds of my choosing if it comes to it. I don't know if he'd ever forgive me, but at least he'd be safe, alive, and not in a hospital where he's definitely going to get so much worse before he gets better. What I am hoping is that he agrees to see a therapist and a psychiatrist today. I've made the appointments. My therapist is willing to see him today to discuss safety plans, and will take him on after that, short or long term or will call in favours with his colleagues if Robby wants to see someone else. My psychiatrist has also agreed to see him. I need to give him a chance to avoid hospital. I fucking hate ambushing him like this. I don't know how else I can keep him safe."
"How many favours did you have to call in to wrangle that?" Dana asked, holding Jack's upper arms.
"All of them and then some."
"Okay, you let me know when you're going to talk to him. Are you going to be able to get him to the appointments?"
"Yeah, thank you. Looking a little pathetic because I'm having a bad fucking pain day to top it all off might work in my favour."
"Okay, you get some rest. I'll talk to you later. You've got this." Dana embraced Jack and left.
Jack moved over to the couch, where Robby was still sleeping. He laid his crutches against an armchair and manoeuvred in behind Robby to spoon him. Jack couldn't have thought of a better way to live in the purgatorial chasm between the Before and After that would soon carve a hard line in their lives, despite his own distress.
Jack awoke, Robby was awakening. No time like the present.
"Hey Misha, how you feeling?" Jack asked.
"Mmm, I'm okay. I'm comfy. 'S nice." Robby said hoarsely, leaning into Jack's embrace.
"It is nice. I've missed you."
"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"I love you," Jack said, a hint of wistful yearning unmistakable in his voice.
Robby stiffened a little in Jack's embrace. "I love you, too," he said a little tensely.
Jack wiggled out from behind Robby, slid himself over to the end near Robby's feet, and sat up. He flicked Dana a quick text letting her know it was happening.
"You ready to talk about this, Misha?" Jack said, grabbing Robby's hand.
Robby sat up carefully and avoided Jack's gaze. "Let's get this over with, then." Robby said petulantly. The monitor was already making his anxiety known.
"Honey, please look at me." Jack said, he waited for Robby to take his usual furtive glances his way before committing to turning his head toward Jack, but still avoiding eye contact. "You are not well." Jack paused, giving Robby a chance to respond. "You don't eat for days at a time, and when you do eat, you aren't nourishing yourself. You don't fucking sleep. You drink enough coffee and consume enough nicotine to wake the dead. You are not coping. This has all been brewing long before PittFest, honey." Jack paused again, expecting Robby to, well, vehemently disagree.
Robby's jaw was set and he had gone back to staring at anything but Jack. The panic rising in Robby's chest despite the gentle cushioning of the diazepam was, again speaking volumes.
Jack continued. "You neglected yourself into what could have become a fatal arrhythmia if you hadn't dropped in the middle of an emergency department. Refusing to be admitted for monitoring last night demonstrated to me the depth of your inability to look after yourself." Jack kept his voice soft and even. "My therapist has made some time for you today. So has my psychiatrist." Jack's voice was practically a whisper.
"I don't want that." Robby said carefully.
"I know, Misha. What do you want?" Jack asked, his tone a little sharper.
"I'll take the time off already organised. I'll be fine. This isn't necessary." Robby's voice was tight.
"Michael, look at me. This is the compromise. This is the Keep Robby Out of Hospital, Psychiatric or Otherwise Plan. You need a level of care I cannot manage by myself, not that you would let me. I've been patient, watching you kill yourself by degrees for months, for years. Finding you on the roof that night is something I will never forget. I haven't had nightmares about anything else since. You've been in a slow burn meltdown for years. You're so used to surviving at a level of distress most people can't even imagine; I don't think you can even fathom not existing in it. It is killing you and you're letting it." Jack waited to catch Robby's gaze. "Are you asking me to watch you die, Misha?"
Robby flinched and averted his gaze further; he felt a surge of all the horrible feelings inside him wash over him, and the monitor's beeping stuttered.
Jack turned inward; he couldn't bear to look at Robby. This is the precipice; the liminal space where Before becomes After. There's no going back. It is out of his control. Robby either jumps off the roof or he doesn't. Robby either lives or doesn't. Then what? Jack relaxed his grip on reality, simply letting it all fall away with his breath.
"Stay with me. Jack, please, don't ever let go of my hand." Robby turned and pulled Jack into his arms. "Jack, honey, come back to me." Robby held Jack fiercely. He rocked Jack gently, wanting Jack to feel safe wherever he was. Robby remained curled around Jack until he clawed his way out of his chasm of consciousness.
Jack shuddered slightly before relaxing just a little, finding himself in the familiar warmth of Robby's all-consuming embrace; his heartbeat thrumming in Jack's ear, a reminder of what was at stake.
"Hey, you with me?" Robby whispered into Jack's curls.
"Yeah,"
Jack remained pliable in Robby's arms, still resisting the desire to give himself over completely. Jack was afraid to make the next move.
"I'll go."
Jack froze with a sharp intake of breath.
"You'll go...?" Jack's mind started running an overwhelming of scenarios as to what exactly he could mean.
"I will see your fucking therapist and psychiatrist. Today." Robby said, his voice uneven but soft.
Jack let out a sharp sob in disbelief.
"Jack, honey, I'm sorry. I love you." Robby said.
Jack felt Robby readjust them both; a hand moved from around Jack's wrist palpating his radial pulse he hadn't noticed but now felt naked without, and the other which had been pressing Jack against Robby slipped away, letting the light hit Jack's eyes. Robby separated from Jack enough to make eye contact. Robby gently wiped the tears from Jack's face. "Where do we need to be and when?" Robby asked, still panicking, but trying to put it aside for Jack's sake.
Jack checked the time. "We can head off nowish, if you like. We're heading to the therapist first."
"Can we at least ditch the entourage?" Robby said, gesturing to the saline drip, nearly empty, and the monitor.
"Fine, but we're keeping the IV in and I'm hooking up the portable 3 lead ECG. It will fit in your pocket, it has bluetooth, don't worry about it." Jack negotiated.
"If you must." Robby sighed, trying to ignore the spike of frustration he felt. Robby reminded himself he'd agreed to this, and whether or not that was a good decision it was the one he had made.
"Okay, thank you."
"Did you want me to fetch your leg?"
"No, I'm having a bad pain day. I'm just going to use crutches. I should probably put the beater leg in the car just in case."
Robby felt a pang of shame; Jack's usual modus operandi on bad pain days was to take his strongest pain meds and spend the day semi-conscious on the couch with movies and hangover food. Jack being upright in any capacity was never a part of the bad pain day plan.
"You sure you want the beater, especially if you're already in agony?"
"Yeah. It's going to hurt either way, and if I'm going to throw one off a bridge I'd prefer for it to be the beater."
"Okay, I'll put it by the door."
Jack and Robby pulled apart, and Robby handed Jack his crutches.
"Thank you. Give me a minute to get the portable 3 lead and I'll get you unhooked."
"I can go get it if you tell me where it is?"
Jack turned his head to levy the I've witnessed the havoc you wreak putting away the fucking groceries, I am not letting you near my coping mechanism/hobby stuff/prepper stash/tidy zone over which my control is a foundational pillar of my tenuous grip on sanity look. Robby smiled back fondly. Jack fetched what he was after and tentatively approached Robby. He rested his crutches against the coffee table, and leaned against the arm of the couch. The simple act of unzipping and removing the hoodie he'd dressed Robby in earlier that day suddenly felt deeply, insurmountably intimate. So much had happened since then. Robby guided Jack's hands, inviting him into his space, welcoming his touch. Jack pulled the zip down. He grabbed Robby's hand, and slid his hand up the sleeve and carefully disconnected the IV. Jack slipped his hands under the fabric of the hoodie to meet Robby's trapezius muscles. Robby allowed Jack's tender, thoughtful touch. Robby's discomfort with his own body was sometimes too hard for either of them to bear. Jack loved Robby's body, no matter what it looked or felt like, and Robby's self hatred sometimes burned too brightly to allow them to enjoy each other. Jack carefully slipped the top off Robby's shoulders and folded it over the back of the couch. Jack looked up to see Robby watching him patiently, and they both blushed. Robby leaned in and kissed Jack's forehead. Jack leaned over and turned the monitor off, and disconnected the plethora of cables. Robby, feeling suddenly unburdened, stepped in closer to Jack. Jack levied a curious stare up at Robby. Robby lifted Jack's chin and kissed him; it's tender, sweet, a moment of connection. Hope sparked alight inside Jack once again. They broke apart and Robby stepped back to give Jack room to connect the portable 3 lead. Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and connected it to the ECG.
"One day you're going to show me through your collection."
"Next time I test and tag, if you're lucky, I just might."
Jack took a second to let Dana know that Robby had agreed and that they were on their way out now. Dana wished them luck, knowing getting Robby to show up was just the first of many challenges that lay before them. Robby grabbed Jack's beater leg, and pulled on loose t-shirt over a long sleeved shirt, desperate to distance himself from the appearance of patient written all over him. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, hoping to feel some tether to normalcy.
Jack pulled on a clean pair of shorts, and grabbed the keys. Robby was always in awe of Jack's ability to move through the world unflinchingly, wearing his many striking differences as though the othering from being obviously different simply didn't register. His intense stare, posture, and peculiar personality might be the first thing others noticed if he were using a prosthetic and wearing pants. His prosthesis, or sometimes lack thereof, usually took first place when wearing shorts. What Robby loved, though, was watching Jack with kids, the utterly filterless, openly curious ones who would just straight up ask about his prosthesis, often in ways that made their parents flinch. Jack was a natural with kids; he might tell them he was a robot if that's what they asked, or the more apprehensive kids he'd find a way to put at ease. Gloria once tried to tell Jack to stop telling kids he was a robot after apparently overhearing. Almost every single person in the ED that day stopped, sure the story of what happened next would outlive them all. Jack thought about it for a second before asking her "Where should I start? When I explain the somewhat complex—to your average five year old, at least—geopolitical reasons that landed me in an oil-rich country on the other side of the planet doing field surgery, like doing an approximation of this," Jack had lifted the leg of his pant to highlight his prosthesis "to my fellow soldiers and civilians alike. Where in history should I start? The WMDs, well, lack thereof? The twin towers? Earlier? What would be optimal so I can explain what a prosthetic leg is and why I have it, do you think? Is there an ICD code for needing history lessons?" Jack levelled a stare that could peel paint. Gloria, rendered speechless for the first time anyone had seen before or since, returned a curious stare of her own before choosing to simply walk away. Jack had chuckled to himself and had continued on his way. The department had erupted in quiet giggles at the triumph over Gloria picking a stupid fight to begin with. Robby was a little shocked; Jack didn't really consider himself political (which Robby had always found an interesting sentiment given how deeply his sense of justice informed his practising medicine, to start), and his service was not a topic on which he volunteered commentary. Robby supposed that fucking with Gloria could truly inspire and was itself a means to an end.
Robby was pulled from his reverie by Jack leaning into him. "Come on, let's go, my love." Robby felt another surge of panic rising. He took a deep breath.
"Jack, I'm really fucking scared." Robby gasped.
"Yeah, I bet." Jack said kindly. "What scares you most?"
"Um, Fuck. Well, I don't want to end up in a psych hospital. I don't want psych meds. That's what's right in front of me anyway." Robby said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I hear you. You know the arrangement I have with my therapist and psychiatrist seeing as you're the Chosen One, my nominated Chief Babysitter and Decision Maker, right? Avoiding hospital is something we take very seriously. As for meds, we are going to have to be a little flexible. Can you trust me?" Jack reached up to Robby's face and stroked his cheek. Robby sighed and leaned into Jack's touch.
"I trust you. I'm scared. I trust you. Fuck." Robby's eyes were wild with fear.
"Okay. You ready?"
"No fucking way. Let's go."
Robby followed Jack to the car. Jack slid into the driver's seat and turned over the engine. Robby was trembling a little in the passenger seat. Jack pulled the ECG out of Robby's pants, its screen displaying a single channel in real time. "Here, stare at this. Don't think, just watch that, babe."
Robby nodded and accepted the device and did as Jack asked. It was kind of meditative, trying to tune out the world around him and the storm still raging inside him; putting it all aside to focus on a simple green line. The car came to a gentle stop, and Robby felt another wave of panic, transcribed for him. He slipped the device back in his pocket and took note of his surroundings. Jack's therapist's office was not unfamiliar to Robby, but being here now felt more akin to walking to the gallows. A strange lightness rose in him, almost as though he were floating a few inches above his own head. His head and chest felt like radio static and trying to move his arms and legs required concentration he wasn't sure he could manage. Jack, as always, keenly aware of what was going on in Robby's head approached the passenger door. Jack clasped Robby's hands.
"Okay, honey, we're here. One step at a time, right?" Jack said, moving his hands down, kneading Robby's thighs, willing Robby back to his body.
When he was ready, Robby stepped out of the car, looking a little like a newborn foal learning to stand. Jack placed Robby's hand on his shoulder and turned around, adjusting his crutches before leading Robby to the front door. The house out of which Jack's therapist worked was warm and welcoming. They could have been in a sitting room just about anywhere. Jack sat down on a couch and guided Robby down next to him. Jack texted Dana, resisting the impulse to take a silly selfie as he and Dana often traded, especially in rather inappropriate places, to let her know they'd made it to the therapist. Jack's therapist came to greet them.
"Hey, thanks for fitting us in." Jack smiled warmly.
"No worries at all, Jack. Hi, Doctor Robinavitch, I know we've met briefly a few times over the years, but I'm Daniel. It's lovely to see you."
"Just Robby, please." Robby said.
"Okay, Robby. Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee? I could probably scrounge around for some wine?" Daniel joked.
"Uh, I'm fine thanks. I'm probably going to regret turning down wine." Robby chuckled awkwardly.
"We'll see how we go. Come on through." Daniel gestured.
Robby stood and took a few steps to follow Daniel. Robby turned back; Jack hadn't moved. A small noise escaped Robby; he hadn't even thought about going in alone.
"Jack, you're welcome to join us now, if that's what you'd both like." Daniel called out casually from his office. He'd kept walking, leaving them a moment of privacy.
"Do you want me to come?" Jack asked.
Robby nodded, his eyes wide.
"You got it, babe." Jack said nonchalantly, getting up. He squeezed Robby's arm before leading him into the office.
Jack sat in the armchair a little off to the side, not the usual hot seat in which he'd sat at least fortnightly for the last two decades or so. Robby sat down, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Robby bounced his knees and was hardly breathing. Jack was equally terrified and proud. He was here; he was trying.
"Do you want to tell me a little about what's been going on, Robby?" Daniel asked.
"Hasn't Jack told you?" Robby asked.
"Jack asked me to see you because he said you were in crisis, he considered you a risk to yourself, and he wanted help keeping you safe. Beyond that, Jack's told me his perspective, his concerns, and why he wanted me to see you, but this isn't about Jack, it's about you. Whatever Jack has said today or at any time in the last twenty years doesn't exist to me right now." Daniel said. "Do you think Jack's concern for your safety is warranted? Would you be willing to talk about how we could put a plan in place to keep you safe?"
Robby's head and chest started tingling again and his vision was getting a little fuzzy. He closed his eyes and thought how the hell to answer that. Agreeing that he needed a safety plan was tantamount to acknowledging Jack was right and admitting his life was in danger, which is the point where things would start careening even more out of his control. I am a danger to myself isn't something that can be walked back. This is what he was working so hard to avoid in the first place. Fuck. Jack gave Robby a second to see if he could self-soothe before he made his way over to Robby and sat down on top of him.
Robby was doing so fucking well considering he'd been in essentially constant meltdown and the earth shattering panic attack he'd had a few hours prior upon being told he was taking time off work. None of this was easy for Robby. Jack pressed his back against Robby's chest, letting his head flop back onto Robby's shoulder. He relaxed completely, wanting his dead weight deep pressure to calm Robby. Robby's arms wound around Jack's chest, the arm with the catheter sitting a little looser. Jack took slow, deep breaths, keenly aware of Robby's short shallow gasps. Robby fell into rhythm with Jack like the old practised habit it was. Jack closed his eyes, focusing on the quiet cacophony of sensory input from Robby's body. As the borders between them blurred, the pain in Jack's leg became easier to ignore.
Robby reminded himself of Jack's promises, said and unsaid. Robby focused on the feeling of Jack's stubble in the crook of his neck, the expanding of his chest like he was breathing for both of them, the asymmetric heaviness of Jack's legs. How could he not trust Jack?
"Uh, yeah, it probably is warranted. Can't think any further than that right now." Robby said quietly. Daniel was completely non-reactive to Jack sitting on Robby; it must have been a peculiar sight.
"Tell him what you told me. What you're scared of." Jack mumbled into Robby's neck. Daniel waited for Robby to elucidate further.
"No hospital, no meds." Robby said plainly.
"Good, clear goals. If we're at the point of planning how to keep you safe, you might have to rethink medication. I understand you're also seeing a psychiatrist today? What concerns you about medication?"
"I don't want to chemically restrained. I don't want to have medications that are no more efficacious than placebo with a litany of horrible side effects forced on me. I don't want to be labelled non-compliant for refusing medications I don't want to be on, especially for good fucking reason." Robby confessed.
"That's not going to happen, babe, not on my watch." Jack sighed into Robby's neck.
"I imagine in your work you see the work of the worst of your peers." Daniel said.
"Yep."
"Are there any medications you'd be willing to take?" Daniel asked.
"Hmm. I don't know, maybe? He's got me on diazepam." Robby grumbled.
"I'm sure Doctor Finch can work with that. You got him in with her, right, Jack?"
"Yup." Jack said, still deeply relaxed and unmoving.
"Good. You're doing great, Robby. How are you feeling?"
"Uh, okay?" Robby looked down at Jack, expecting him to react, but he didn't.
"Are there other people who can be with you at home, Robby?" Daniel asked.
"Yeah, um, Dana's been around. Helping me. Helping Jack." Robby mumbled.
"Good. How do you feel about starting talk therapy?"
"Extremely fucking resistant," Jack said. He smiled as his body shook from an unexpected laugh rising out Robby.
"Thanks, Jack, not helpful. Be quiet, please." Daniel laughed.
"Yeah, what he said. He's right." Robby admitted.
"As usual." Jack quipped.
"Jack," Daniel warned. "Would you be willing to give it ago?"
"Uh, fuck. Yep." Robby said, clearly uncomfortable.
"You know I've been seeing Jack for a very long time. While it's not unethical or all that unusual for you to see me, too, I've got a couple of colleagues on standby if you'd prefer to see someone else. What I'm hoping is that you speak to someone every day for the next few weeks, until you're on more solid ground. After that I would hope you'd see someone regularly, but let's not get ahead of ourselves."
Robby closed his eyes, focused on Jack's weight and breathing. The walls were closing in on him again. Robby reminded himself again of Jack's promises.
"I think I can do that?" Robby said. He felt Jack sigh and smile against his neck. "If it's okay with Jack, I think I'd prefer seeing you?" Robby asked, his voice timid.
"I wouldn't have dragged you here, begging you to see him if I weren't, babe."
Robby tried to sit with the weird feelings and the light-headed fuzziness growing in him again.
"Okay, so, how does a catch up at 3 p.m. every day sound? I'm essentially retired, with a few lost causes that refuse to accept that." Daniel said warmly.
"Maybe they should talk to someone about it, doc." Jack quipped, still unmoving.
"Meaning, Robby, I can be flexible, but let's pick a time and go from there."
"3 is great. Thank you."
"So we've got an appointment with the psychiatrist, Jack and Dana to help at home, and time scheduled for therapy. Good. How you feeling about that, Robby?" Daniel asked.
"Um, okay, I guess?"
"What else do you think you need to help you stay safe? Are there things at home that might need to be removed for a little while?" Daniel asked casually, like he wasn't essentially asking about whether there were guns in the house (no), or about the firmness of plans and level of intent. Robby considered for a moment. He was surprised questions to categorise his risk hadn't been essentially the first thing out of Daniel's mouth. Robby's plan was something he kept tucked away but on his person at all times like an old weathered photograph of someone no longer in his life he never bothered to remove from his wallet. Jack started rubbing gentle circles on the back of one of his hands.
"No, nothing like that." Robby answered.
"Okay, good. Did you want to talk a little bit about anything? Jack can wait outside." Daniel suggested.
Robby pulled a little tighter on Jack. "I don't know if I'm up for that right now."
"No worries at all." Daniel smiled warmly. "Is there anything you'd like to ask? Anything you'd like to say to Jack?"
Robby took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Nothing to ask, just thank you for seeing me, and Jack, I'm sorry; thank you." Robby said. Jack kissed Robby's neck and continued breathing deeply, and rubbing circles on the back of Robby's hand.
"It is my pleasure, Robby. Jack, when is Doctor Finch expecting you?"
"Whenever. Nowish. She was keen to wait until you'd worked your magic with him before seeing him."
"Well, mission accomplished. Plan made. You going to get up or am I carrying you to the car?" Robby asked.
"You can hardly hold yourself up, let alone both of us, babe." Jack sighed. He slipped off Robby's lap and grabbed his crutches.
"Thanks again, Daniel." Jack said sincerely.
"It's no worries. Please text or email if either of you need me. Robby, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow." Robby stood.
Jack led them out back to the car again. They made their way to Doctor Finch's office, thankfully it was not far. Robby was not at all surprised why Jack had chosen her. It was a little easier for Robby to talk about options once he realised Doctor Finch was not going to uncritically throw the kitchen sink at him. Robby hadn't really thought ahead about exactly what he'd be willing to take; he'd been so wrapped up in trying to protect himself against the worst possibilities. Doctor Finch, like Daniel, had suggested that they focus on getting through the next few weeks, with the goal of stabilising him. Robby knew that stabilisation meant meds he'd really rather not be on, even if it was explicitly intended to be short term. He voiced his concerns like he was managing a patient in the ED. Robby could hardly fucking think straight; he was a mess floating out of his own body, but medical management of acute psychiatric illness was something Robby often dealt with at work, and despite the realities of the emergency department environment sometimes making providing the best care for those patients damned near impossible, it was something with which Robby was comfortable. While many physicians would cower at the prospect of going toe-to-toe of the legendary Michael Robinavitch, ED Chief when he had a bone to pick, even on their home turf, Doctor Finch took it in stride, explaining her every recommendation, addressing Robby's concerns, suggesting alternate treatments, and, crucially, guiding Robby to make treatment decisions with her. Or, maybe cornering him a little bit, but the decision trees needed to be burned down; him finding the treatment plan logical, appropriate, and as within his control as possible was crucial. Jack thought about how much the kids at work could learn from a grand rounds version of their debating. Jack was glad to see this somewhat dishevelled and slightly more brusque than usual version of Robby come through. After seeing the titan of a man crumble away over the last few months, it was a comfort. He'd made a note to send Doctor Finch some Thanks For Endless Patience While Arguing With The Acutely Unwell Love Of My Life scotch, maybe alongside a request for an appointment for himself for the first time in a few years; he might need more than just the prazosin he was on to reduce nightmares. Fuck, dealing with meds fucking sucked. Robby and Jack walked out of the appointment, scripts in hand, another appointment booked for a few days' time to check in on how he was going on the medication, and they left.
"Do you mind if I ask Dana to fill these for us so I can get you home, honey?" Jack asked after sliding in to the drivers' seat. Robby didn't respond. Jack acknowledged the panic blooming inside him and assessed. Robby was breathing; Jack felt Robby's carotid pulse, steady, strong, regular. He slipped his phone out of his pocket to check the ECG. Normal sinus, perfect. Jack sighed, shaking his head at his own panic. Robby had simply fallen asleep. The hard parts of the day were done; no need to ride the wave of spiking cortisol any more. Jack buckled Robby in, and drove to the pharmacy, careful not to wake Robby, and drove them home.
"Honey, we're home." Jack said, opening the passenger door and kissing Robby on the cheek.
"Oh, fuck, sorry, nodded off there, for a minute?"
"More like forty. How you feeling?"
"Um, I don't really know. Tired." Robby shrugged.
"Okay," Jack smiled. I don't really know was an honest answer, one Robby wouldn't have admitted earlier. "Let's get you inside."
Robby followed Jack inside. Jack put the bag from the pharmacy on the coffee table and turned around looking for Robby. Robby went into the bedroom and grabbed a fresh bag of saline and hung it on the IV pole. He picked up some fresh dressings, and other supplies. Robby pulled the pole over and presented to Jack, a gesture of goodwill; a gesture of please help me, I'm too fucking tired to drink anyway, I won't fight you caring for me; here, let me get this for you, I know you're having a bad pain day.
Jack looked up at Robby, his heart breaking just a little; Robby's gentle surrender to Jack wanting to care for him after fighting like hell against for so long was almost too much to bear.
Jack sat down on the couch, leaving space for Robby to join him. Jack gripped Robby's shirts and worked them up and over Robby's head. Jack carefully inspected the IV site before moving to spike the new bag. As he stood, Robby steadied Jack's hips.
"Thank you, my love." Jack said, kissing Robby's forehead as he sat back down.
"How's your leg?" Robby asked.
"It's fine," Jack shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it.
"Can I go get your pain meds?"
"No, thank you. I've got too much still to do."
"I'm sorry."
"You've been saying that a lot, lately. You don't need to apologise, really."
"Can I hold you?" Robby asked quietly.
Jack smiled wistfully. He was still wary of letting himself get lost in Robby. Jack shuffled closer to Robby who, despite his own exhaustion, found the strength to lift Jack onto his lap, positioning him just like at the therapist's office. Robby gently guided Jack's head back into the crook of his neck and coaxed Jack's shoulders back and open a little more. He wrapped his arms around Jack's chest. Robby relaxed back into the couch, hoping Jack would relax back into him. Jack took a deep breath and slowly sank into Robby. He closed his eyes and again turned his attention to Robby's body. Robby turned his attention to Jack's; the soft, steady thump of Jack's heart meeting Robby's hand, marking time; the soft cushion of his curls juxtaposed against the scratch of his stubble; the damp warmth of his measured breath against his neck. A quiet, almost imperceptible sob escaped Jack's lips. Robby gently tightened his grip on Jack, and rocked side to side. Jack's hot tears ran down Robby's neck, and Jack's breath fell out of rhythm with Robby's. Robby rode the waves of Jack's distress with him. He held him until he felt the hot tears dry, his hummingbird heartbeat slow, and breath even out.
"Hey," Robby said gently.
"Hey," Jack whispered in reply.
"Want to talk about it?"
Jack paused. "I love you."
"I love you."
"How's your pain?"
"A little easier to bear."
"Good."
"I need to organise dinner." Jack said, starting to move off Robby's lap reluctantly.
"Let me order something. What else is on your to do list?" Robby asked, wanting to brush over his urge to avoid eating at all.
"I've got some pill boxes to organise. I want to get you on the monitor again, please. I need to see if the cardiologist has reviewed your chart, too. I might need to go to the pharmacy again, depending on what she says."
Robby felt a surge of discomfort again. This was still not fucking necessary, but he held his tongue. Robby pulled the monitor from behind the couch to slide it in front of Jack. He allowed Jack to make quick work of connecting it all again. Robby rolled his eyes at the sphygmomanometer inflating for what felt like the millionth time in last 24 hours, and flicked through options for dinner.
Jack waited for Robby's blood pressure to show on the monitor, and made sure everything else was okay. He left the QRS tone off, but kept the alarms still configured at the minimum thresholds.
Jack set out the contents of the bag from the pharmacy. With Robby's medications, he'd picked up three daily pill organisers; bright green for his morning meds, purple for evening, and pink for his PRNs. Jack was impressed that Doctor Finch was able to get Robby to agree to the medications; now it was a matter of whether or not he'd actually take them. Jack knew that none of this was easy for Robby. Jack swallowed the rage he felt; he should have pushed harder to get Robby to stop avoiding his mental health. His becoming acutely unwell was inevitable if he just kept trying to run from it. Robby's general competence left him with well-earned confidence, but when it came to his own health, his shame and pride was hubristic.
"How you going with dinner, Misha?" Jack asked.
"Burritos?"
"Whatever you want, babe." Jack smiled at Robby.
Jack checked over Robby's chart, which the cardiologist had reviewed. Robby needed an electrophysiology study, as expected, but translating the Official Chart Dialect, it was probable that it was more to do with Robby's refusal to look after himself as evidenced by his shitty blood work and some really bad luck. Reading through the blood work in detail, Jack found himself getting anxious and frustrated all over again. Jack knew he was hardly eating or drinking, but the picture the results were painting were worse than he anticipated.
There was a knock at the door; dinner had arrived. Jack retrieved the food and sat back down on the couch with Robby.
"Shitty movie?" Robby suggested.
"You read my mind." Jack said.
They picked something from their to watch list and ate. Jack tried not to think too hard about how little Robby had eaten for dinner, but given he'd had a decent breakfast minus the earth shattering panic attack, it was okay. Jack cleaned up after dinner and when he sat down, he pulled Robby into his arms where they stayed until the credits rolled.
Jack paused; it was probably a good time for Robby to take his night time meds. Jack tried to push the dread from his mind, wanting to give Robby the benefit of the doubt.
"I know it's pretty early, but we're both tired. Time to take your meds, and we can put on another movie? I promise I won't let us both fall asleep here, my back was a wreck last time." Jack said, trying to soften the blow as he pushed the purple pill organiser toward Robby.
"Jack, please." Robby said softly. He rubbed his face in his hands and curled in on himself.
"Robby, please. It's really important. I know you know that."
"I really don't want to."
"Okay, I hear you. Please—"
"Jack, no." Robby interrupted more firmly.
"Do you want different meds? If you don't want the mirtazapine, we can organise something else, right now."
Robby pulled himself out of Jack's embrace and turned to face Jack "I don't want any fucking meds. I don't fucking need it. Really. I'm not like you. I'm not that bad. I'm not the one with a standing appointment with the fucking roof. You do realise that's not fucking normal, right?" Robby snapped.
Jack knew that Robby could be a little fickle. Like everyone, he's an imperfect person. One of greatest qualities, his deeply kind, caring heart, his ability to really see people could also leave him with the power to absolutely devastate, Jack was discovering.
Jack was measured when he spoke, despite the deep hurt he felt. "You think I don't know that? You think I am not totally fucking cognisant of my mental health? Yeah, there are days I stand on that roof and I really ask myself, Is today the day? Is it finally time? I mean, I genuinely consider it. There are more of those days than I'd like to admit, especially to you lately. Some days, when I'm up there, I pray to a god I don't believe in for a big fucking gust of wind to just make the decision for me. Do you have any idea how humiliating it feels admitting that to you, Doctor I-Don't-Need-Help-Fuck-You-For-Trying? You know, when you've lived with mental health issues for as long as I have, the desire to die, the nightmares about shit that happened twenty fucking years ago, and the panic just becomes so fucking boring, honestly. Like, after all this fucking time, after all the fucking therapy, and it's all still there? Still just, I don't know, waiting for me? Some days, when it's creeping back up on me, and it feels inescapable, I can't fucking bear it. I'm so, so fucking tired of it." Jack, startled by the volume of his own voice took a slow but shaky breath. When he continued, his voice was a hoarse whisper. "The fact that this is something I'll never escape is sometimes unbearable. I have to bear it. I can't run away from it. I have to face it, especially when I don't want to. Sometimes, in order to bear it, I need to remind myself that I have a choice. So I stand on the fucking roof. I ask myself if today's finally the fucking day."
Jack turned away from Robby, the white hot shame he felt nauseated him. Jack tried to dull the betrayal he felt at Robby's comments. It was a low blow, one Jack hoped Robby lived long enough to want to apologise for. It wasn't necessary, he was so fucking unwell. Jack had already forgiven him, but fuck, it hurt.
"Please, Michael, take the mirtazapine." Jack said in his calmest Doctor Abbot voice.
Jack went over to the kitchen and poured a glass of water for Robby. He sat back down and slid the glass of water over to Robby. Jack grabbed Robby's hand firmly. He popped open a compartment and emptied it into Robby's hand.
Robby stared at the mirtazapine and the extended release quetiapine. Jack had avoided mentioning the latter, like that was going to make Robby fucking forget about it. He resented Jack for putting them there. He resented him for using his Doctor Abbot voice on him, like he was a fucking patient. He resented Jack for dragging him to the psychiatrist in the fucking first place. He looked up at Jack's face, his expression unreadable to anyone else but Robby; it was the face he made when he was doing his best to hide his real emotions. Jack grabbed Robby's empty hand and gently massaged it. Even after what Robby had said to him, he was still doing everything he could to help. Robby thought about what he'd been prescribed, what he'd agreed to take. The antidepressant, mirtazapine, was chosen because Jack wouldn't shut his fucking mouth and mentioned Robby was not eating. Robby and Doctor Finch had both chuckled at him interrupting their rapid-fire discussion by describing its use in veterinary medicine as an appetite stimulant in cats with end-stage renal disease as a fun fact. Who would consider that a fun fact? The love of his life, naturally. The mirtazapine was also intended to help him sleep which, admittedly, would be extremely helpful regardless of its efficacy at relieving depression, which was something of a sticking point for Robby when it came to antidepressants. Jack had referred to it as a piss-poor excuse for refusing to consider medication at all. It struck Robby how long they'd been arguing about it. Five years. Five fucking years. The antipsychotic, quetiapine, used as an adjunctive therapy with the antidepressant, a common practise. Doctor Finch had prescribed it to be taken twice a day, so he'd take a small dose in the morning as well. It was a sensible, well considered regimen. It still fucking sucked. It wouldn't be for long. Jack had his back. Jack wanted to fucking sedate him right now. Maybe Jack was right that he needed to be fucking sedated. Fuck. Fuck it. Robby put the pills in his mouth and downed the whole glass of water.
Jack looked a little surprised. The pleading in his eyes didn't abate, but he didn't stop rubbing Robby's hand.
"Did you cheek it?" Jack asked regretfully.
Robby shook his head. He leaned in a little and opened his mouth.
Jack kissed the back of Robby's hand and then caressed Robby's cheek.
"Thank you, honey."
Robby started crying; he was so fucking ashamed. He was ashamed it'd all gotten this bad, ashamed he seemed to be stuck with only two gears; crying and screaming. It was exhausting. He'd said something really fucking horrible to the man he loved. He desperately wanted to just disappear into Jack, but how could he presume that Jack would want to comfort him? He didn't fucking deserve it. Robby's breaths came in short, sharp gasps. A stupid fucking alarm went off above him. Jack checked the alarm before sitting up on his knees to reach over Robby so he could turn it off. Robby felt Jack's weight shift back down, and felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, pulling him toward Jack. Jack lay back into the couch's arm rest and pulled Robby onto his chest. When they'd settled, Robby completely broke apart; the sobs became unabating wails. Robby had never heard that sound come out of his own body before; it was violent. Jack kept rubbing steady circles on Robby's back. Robby felt Jack's legs wrap around him as squeezed Robby's whole body, not to restrict, but to apply deep pressure. Jack kept holding him, rubbing his back.
As the medication finally started to kicked in, Robby started to feel distant from the world around him; his own body, and Jack's despite the deep pressure. It was like drowning in slow motion; like he was being pulled deep under the surface of the ocean by something inevitable, inescapable, and he could do nothing about it. Too tired to fight it, by design, Robby's sobbing slowed, he started going limp in Jack's arms.
"Hey, Misha, time for bed?"
How speaking a single word became this difficult, Robby didn't know. Fuck, how the hell was he going to get into bed? Robby grunted in response to Jack's question.
"Okay, I'm going to help you sit up. It probably doesn't feel like it but you'll make it to bed. Just give me a minute."
Jack slid from underneath him and off the couch; Robby didn't see a reason to open his eyes. He felt Jack's strong grip on his shoulders.
"Babe, I'm going to pull your legs over the edge of the couch. Push up a little with your arms."
Jack's hands gripped Robby's knees, bending them gently. Robby did as he was asked, and managed to get his face up out of the couch cushion. Jack reached out and pulled Robby the rest of the way up.
"Okay, so, you're going to stand up. I'll help you if you need, but you got this. We're going to go slowly."
Robby allowed Jack to pull him forward. Robby kept his feet planted on the floor and straightened his knees. He was a little dizzy, but was a little more connected to his body for now.
"Misha, open your eyes."
Despite standing up mostly under his own power, the change of orientation from laying to standing was a little jarring when he opened his eyes.
"Okay, you can lean on me. Pick up your feet. Grab the monitor stand. Let's get you into bed." Jack said gently.
Robby leaned up against Jack, gripped the pole, and focused on not tripping over his own feet. Robby flopped on the bed. His eyes closed the second his head hit the pillow.
Jack gently undressed Robby, who was dead weight in his arms. Jack went into the en suite and filled a bowl so he could clean Robby up a little. He'd feel better waking up without today's stale sweat and tears. Robby stirred a little when Jack gently washed his face, but relaxed when Jack kissed is forehead. Jack worked his way over Robby's body, then rolled him to pull the sheets out from under him, and he tucked Robby in. He kissed him on the forehead again, and hoped the deep sleep Robby was going to have tonight would help.
Jack went to shower. A few tears escaped; too tired to sob. Jack climbed into bed, hoping tomorrow would be easier. He flicked a quick text to Dana, letting her know they hadn't killed each other, then immediately fell asleep.
Day 3
Jack awoke. As expected, Robby was still dead to the world. Jack went into the kitchen, and hoping Robby would be hungry, started cooking. Robby had stocked up the fridge with ingredients. Jack had no idea what exactly Robby had been planning to cook, so he improvised and made shakshouka. Jack made quick work of it. He turned the stove down to let the tomato reduce when he heard rustling in the bedroom. A pang of anxiety shot through Jack; he had no idea what to expect. Nevertheless, Jack walked in, trying to exude a sense of calm happiness. He felt a little bit like a housewife between the cooking, the apron, and tending to who he hoped would be his husband.
"Good morning, my love. You awake? How you feeling?" Jack said, kissing Robby on the forehead.
"Morning. Pretty sure I'm awake, but ask me again in five minutes. Tired." Robby said quietly. He gently pulled the sheets away and seemed puzzled by the absence of his clothes. "You cleaned me up. Thank you."
"Wait, wait, let me check orthostatics. Then you can have a shower if you're feeling okay? I gave you a quick wash last night, thought waking up fresher might be nice." Jack said.
Robby smiled at Jack like he hung the moon; he was a little lost for words.
"I know, Misha." Jack said, rubbing Robby's hand. He initiated the monitor to take Robby's blood pressure while he was still laying down. "Okay, stand up please." Jack took Robby's hands in his. "You good?"
Robby nodded. Jack kicked off another blood pressure reading and set a timer. He returned his empty hand to Robby's. Robby readjusted one of his hands to feel Jack's radial pulse; tethered again, home. Jack blushed.
"I hope you don't make eyes like that at patients." Robby said.
Jack's timer went off and he set off another blood pressure reading.
"Only when I'm hoping they'll beg for me to leave the room because I'm making them extremely uncomfortable." Jack said.
Robby shook his head, laughing. Jack's eyes lingered on the monitor; he pursed his lips and furrowed his brows.
"Jack, they're normal." Robby challenged, sitting back down on the bed.
"Yeah, they're all just normal. They're all borderline." Jack raised an eyebrow. "How are you feeling?"
"Desperate for a shower."
"Only if you sit down in there until you know you're not going to keel over. You and your scalding showers."
"Pot, kettle, et cetera."
"You still haven't answered my question."
Robby took a deep breath. "I'm groggy. I don't know. I feel weird. I don't want to talk about it." Robby's frustration was bleeding through.
"Okay," Jack smiled gently.
Jack turned off the monitor, much to Robby's relief. He gently removed the cuff and pulse ox, and pulled the leads off the ECG electrodes. Jack gently pulled the electrodes, sticking them to his own arm in the mean time. Jack gently turned Robby's arm and removed the IV cannula, holding some gauze in its place for the short journey from bed to shower.
"I've got breakfast cooking. Shakshouka. We'll eat after you shower?" Jack asked.
"I'd planned to make shakshouka this morning. Before, well, all of this."
"Now you have to eat my cooking instead of yours. Actions, meet consequences. Go shower. I better not fucking burn it."
Robby stood, enveloped Jack and kissed his the crown of his head. "Sounds good to me."
Robby walked into the en suite, and turned the water on, absolutely scalding. He should have listened to Jack; the wooziness almost overtook him completely as soon as he stepped under the water. He was used to hot showers, and the usual compensatory racing heart that accompanied them, but he swooned nonetheless. He was even hydrated for once! Fucking hell. Can't even enjoy a shower. Robby steadied himself against the cool tiles and slid down onto the bench. He turned around and pressed his back flat against the tiles and took deep breaths. He couldn't focus on anything but the incessant pounding of his heart shaking his entire body, the hot water, and the cold tiles.
"Honey, you okay? Robby?"
Robby heard Jack's voice, and realised he should probably respond. He wanted to. He was fine. The words couldn't quite find their way out. "Robby, hey, you with me?"
He was aware of Jack's hands against his neck, checking his pulse, then one moving to his head, tilting it back. Robby felt a wave of nausea, which was stimulus enough for him to recoil a little.
"Hey, babe, you with me?" Jack asked. He turned the water off.
"Mmm. Nauseated."
"Think you just vagalled? Like I said you might?"
"Yup."
With the water no longer vasodilating him to the edge of consciousness, Robby perked up a little. "I didn't get around to actually showering."
Jack paused, unsure of how Robby would respond. "Can I help?"
"Okay. Yes, please." Robby sighed.
Jack turned the water on, a little cooler this time. He gently pulled Robby away from the wall to lean against him instead. Jack started by washing his hair, rhythmically massaging Robby's head. He worked his way down, slowly, meticulously, massaging and quietly describing where he was going to be touching and what he was going to be doing. Robby was dead weight; the somnolence from the medication always hit hard at the start.
"Misha, it's time to get out." Jack held Robby up as he reached for a towel in which to drape him.
"Thank you." Robby said, accepting the towel.
"Let me help you up slowly. If you go down, we both will." Jack smiled.
"Jack, you're all wet." Robby didn't move.
"Oh, shit, really? I showered my partner and now I'm wet?" Jack deadpanned.
"Your clothes—"
"You'd been in here for a few minutes and I hadn't heard a peep so I checked on you. You were slumped over, eyes open but glassy. I wasn't going to wait. I wasn't going to turn the water off before checking if you were breathing, honey. After that, well, I was already wet." Jack shrugged.
"Jack, I'm so sorry." Robby leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Thank fuck for the meds distancing him from his own shitty feelings. He still hated them but at least he wasn't sobbing yet again. He felt utterly fucking pathetic.
"It's okay, really. Oh, honey, I'm sorry." Jack stepped in towards Robby and held him for a minute.
"Ready for breakfast?" Jack asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay, let's get you up slowly, just to make sure."
Robby allowed Jack, sopping wet and probably quite cold, to help him up. Robby dressed quickly, and followed delicious smell into the kitchen. Jack would be a minute, he'd need to change. Robby went ahead and cracked the waiting eggs into the pan.
Robby felt a steady hand on his hip before Jack embraced him from behind.
"Thank you. You sit down, I'll plate up." Jack murmured into Robby's ear.
"You sit down. You plate up like you're serving dogs."
A smile broke across Jack's face. "Dogs that eat off very nice plates, apparently." Jack kissed Robby's cheek and sat down.
Robby plated up and sat down. To Jack's surprise—and great relief—Robby ate ravenously. Jack tried not to stare; he knew commenting on it would upset Robby. Robby cleared the table.
"Shitty movies on the couch? Spooning?" Jack asked.
"Good plan."
Jack grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed and brought two glasses of water with him to the couch, a flutter of anxiety rising; it was time for Robby to take his morning meds. He placed a glass of water in front of Robby and waited for Robby to look at him. He grabbed one of Robby's hands, massaging it. Robby's stare was blank. Not unexpected; last night's meds, the shower, if he was upright and doing something, he could muster. Sitting down, not doing anything? No way, not now, not yet. Jack massaged up Robby's arms.
"Hey, Misha, time for meds." Jack said.
Robby looked heartbroken, his eyes were unbelievably sad. Jack caressed Robby's cheek, wiping away his tears.
"I know, babe. Here's the plan. You take them. We'll spoon. You'll fall asleep for a bit, probably a couple hours. You'll wake up and I'll be right here when you do. You'll feel spacey. I'll be right here."
Robby nodded his head. He flipped open the compartment and tipped the fucking quetiapine into his hand. He swallowed and chased it with an entire glass of water. Jack's heart hurt; Robby opened his mouth to show he hadn't cheeked it. Jack wasn't going to ask, he knew Robby's resolve had been fairly obliterated by the exhaustion and the medication. Jack slid the second glass of water over to Robby.
"This one's for you, too. Gotta start hydrating, babe."
Robby nodded. He downed the second glass of water and felt uncomfortably full.
Jack stood up and helped Robby get comfortable laying down. He nestled himself in Robby's arms and flicked on a film. Robby didn't last long before his body relaxed completely around Jack's. Jack caught up on some reading before deciding to take a nap himself. He was usually very particular about his sleep schedule, but fuck it. He was exhausted, too.
Robby awoke slowly. He faded into consciousness, but didn't quite get all the way there. On the precipice, he considered going back to sleep. He felt a little like he was floating in the middle of the ocean; undulating, untouchable, and untethered; utterly unable to feel where he ended and the world began. At least it was better than the inevitable, cold feeling of being dragged under he felt when the quetiapine started kicking in. Robby decided not to go to sleep; this in between state would do. He pushed a little further at the reaches of his mind. He came back to his body, again, not quite all the way. Everything felt heavy and still a little disconnected. His heart was thumping gently, slowly, and his breathing was calm; he felt both against the warmth in front of him. Jack was in his arms, like he promised. The disconnection from his own feelings was disorienting, which in and of itself was also a distant feeling. He loved Jack so fucking much. Robby took a deep breath, trying to extend the connection with his body and the outside world just a bit further. Jack was heavy, his breathing slow and deep. Jack was asleep. Robby remained in the periphery of consciousness, floating in the gentle ebb and flow until Jack awoke some time later. The heaviness of Jack's sleep dissipated in Robby's arms. Robby finally opened his eyes. The stillness was incongruous with the rolling tide in his head, so he closed them again.
"You're awake?" Jack asked quietly.
"Yeah. I'm okay." Robby sighed, pre-empting Jack.
"I love you." Jack said, kissing Robby's arm beneath his head.
"I love you, too."
"Coffee?"
"Nauseated."
"Let's get you sitting up."
"Bad idea."
"Trust me?"
Robby grunted, which Jack took as affirmative. Jack gently pulled Robby's legs out and off the couch.
"Tense up your shoulders." Jack instructed, threading his hand under Robby's arm. When Robby did, Jack slowly pulled Robby upright. "There you go."
"Thanks" Robby said, breathing carefully.
"Better?"
"Yeah, a bit."
Jack pulled the monitoring equipment over.
"Honey, please. I'm fine."
"Misha, you probably wouldn't have been switched to oral meds yet if you'd stayed. Please. I'll be quick."
"If you must." Robby sighed. "You're not going to shave my chest, are you?"
Jack pulled off Robby's shirt and drew his hands carefully over where he'd need to place the electrodes. "Nope, we're still good."
Jack placed the electrodes and the rest of the equipment. Robby watched the monitor.
"You can stop pulling that face, I'm okay."
"I'll be happier after we get you in for that EP study. Your rhythm is okay. Any palpitations? Dizziness?"
"Only a little of both. Nothing like the other day. I will tell you if I'm symptomatic and you're not already touching me."
"Sit up a little for me, please?" Jack asked, pulling his stethoscope from off the monitor stand.
Robby did as he was asked and let Jack auscultate him. He carefully examined Robby's lungs, and moved across to Robby's chest to listen to his heart. Before he finished, stethoscope still over the apex of Robby's heart, Jack cradled Robby's head in his free hand and kissed Robby deeply, hearing his heart speed up and throw a hard PVC.
"Hey, that's cheating." Robby blushed deeply, and smiled and shook his head as Jack returned the stethoscope to the monitor stand.
"Couldn't help myself." Jack said, a satisfied smile across his face.
"You're going to be the death of me. Maybe literally." Robby joked, half-heartedly ignoring thoughts about how it'd be a nice way to go.
Jack unhooked the monitoring equipment and wiped the remaining sticky gel from Robby's chest.
"Arms up." Jack prompted. He slid Robby's shirt over his arms and head. He tugged it down over his belly and kissed Robby's forehead before putting the monitoring equipment away.
"Coffee? Or we probably have some caffeine pills I could probably free-base." Robby said.
"Oral bioavailability is leagues ahead of any other route of administration, but who am I to deny the opportunity for pointless chemistry? I'll turn the machine on. It's tastiest that way."
"I could snort the caffeine pills. Fuck bioavailability." Robby mumbled.
"Caffeine isn't even on the list of things worth snorting. If you are going to snort it, do not snort off the shelf caffeine pills—" Jack stopped himself, smiling. "Do I need to lock up the damned caffeine pills? If we even have any? I think I'm leaving this conversation."
"What is on your worth snorting list? Don't bother locking the pills up; I don't think I could move off this couch if the house were on fire."
"Caffeine isn't going to help with that at all. Dana was only mostly joking when she said you were probably going to have withdrawals from caffeine. How much coffee have you being drinking?" Jack asked, wanting to take advantage of Robby's less volatile mood.
"Breakfast of champions pretty much every day, then coffee throughout." Robby shrugged.
"I'm going to have to bribe so many baristas."
"You could probably just stare at them until they agree to never serve me again."
"The least I can do if I'm going to take out their best tipper is to compensate them."
"Good. They deserve it. Nice kids."
Satisfied the espresso machine was hot, Jack made coffee. He gently pressed a cup into Robby's hands, startling him a little.
"Sorry, sweetheart." Jack said, kissing him on the forehead.
"I heard you coming; it wasn't exactly a surprise." Robby shrugged, finally opening his eyes.
Jack gently rubbed the back of Robby's head. "How you feeling?"
Robby stared at the mug warming his hands for what felt to Jack like an eternity. "Disconnected. Thinking is hard. Except about caffeine, apparently."
"It won't be for long." Jack sat, pressing up against Robby.
"Better fucking not be." Robby said, no heat in his voice.
"It won't be, I promise." Jack murmured, holding Robby's hand.
Jack would move heaven and earth for Robby, he knew that, though it was about as distant as the petulant simmering resentment about ending up like this in the first place.
"Plan for the afternoon is that I'll take you to Daniel. If you want me to come in with you with Daniel, I will. I'll pack the bomb-proof headphones-earplugs combo I can wear if you want me there but don't want me to hear anything. Otherwise I'll go for a run, but I'll just do laps around the block so if you do want me, I won't be far. He's made time to see me after you. Dana's going to come meet you after your appointment."
"I will be fine alone for an hour during your appointment, Jack."
Jack considered before he spoke. "If you had tried to run, or refused to see Daniel and Doctor Finch, or if I couldn't manage to keep you safe, by which I mean sedated at home, I was contingency planning on how to get you into hospital. Psychiatric ICU. Even a high care ward wouldn't take you, you're way too big a suicide risk, especially in hospital. The irony is not lost on me. You're on one-to-one, not negotiable. You could do with a break from being at home with me that isn't an appointment. It's going to get monotonous. I'll meet you both after."
"How did you know I wanted to run?"
"When you bit our heads off over being admitted for monitoring I knew the dam had finally burst. What you've been running from this whole time finally caught up with you. Of course you want to fucking run, now more than ever. I've also seen calmer rabid raccoons. That might have been the biggest clue."
"That bad?"
"Yeah, Misha." Jack's voice was aching with sincerity.
"Oops." Robby had no fucking idea what to say.
"Yup. Big oops. It's okay, I've got you."
"I don't want to go to hospital."
"I don't want you to go to hospital. I'm fighting like hell to avoid it, brother."
Robby sighed, deflating. The constant push-pull of the burning anxiety and the medication turning every sensation down was getting the better of him again.
"I've got you. No matter what."
"What if I ...can't?"
"Then neither can I. I go down with you." Jack shrugged like it was obvious.
"Brought that up with Daniel?" Robby teased.
"None of your fucking business." Jack smiled.
"I'll have to tell Daniel on you." Robby joked.
"You have no idea how log I've been waiting to hear those words, my love." Jack laughed. "He's going to wish he fucking retired."
"I think you already managed that on your own, my love."
"You ready to go?"
"As ready as I'm going to be."
Robby
"I don't know how I am supposed to talk about my feelings when I can't feel them. Everything feels too far away. I'd say I hate it but I can't feel hatred. I can't feel anything. How the fuck does that help?"
"He told me he was planning psychiatric fucking ICU as a contingency. I don't and have never needed that. He fucking forced me to drink a fucking ensure on the way here. He's the one not fucking coping."
Jack
"I think he's still in denial about how unwell he is right now; how unwell he has been. We did talk about it a little earlier. To be fair, it's not been 48 hours since shit hit the fan and he's either been screaming, crying, or sleeping pretty much the entire time. I don't know how he's going to handle his quetiapine being titrated in a few days. He's going to be in the fog for a lot longer than if he'd just started on a bigger dose to begin with."
"I said Are you asking me to watch you die? and then I dissociated. Must have been bad; it was enough to pull him out of his meltdown at the suggestion of going to fucking therapy. Dissociating wasn't helpful, I feel shit about it."
"I haven't really dreamt of anything else since that night. It's always just Robby on the roof. Last night, Nightmare Robby regurgitated some of the horrible things Awake Robby said to me. Last night, Nightmare Robby and I jumped together. Last night, Nightmare Robby's V-Tach turned into a fatal arrhythmia; he went down before he could jump and he died in my arms, on the roof. Last night, I turned away from Nightmare Robby, I just went inside and he followed. Last night, I turned away from Nightmare Robby, I just went inside and he nearly landed on top of me when he jumped. Last night, Nightmare Robby slipped over the edge and I caught him. He looked so relieved, like he changed his mind and didn't want to fucking die, and I couldn't hold him. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"
"He might still fucking run. Once he settles a bit on the meds, I'm worried I'll wake up alone and he'll be gone. I'll find myself regretting again that I didn't do more."
The sun warmed Jack's skin when he stood on the threshold of Daniel's office. Back to the real world. Back to Robby. Better call Dana, see where they ended up.
"Hey, where are you guys?" Jack asked.
"West End Overlook. Might want to bring the car, he's a bit worn out."
"Can do. Thanks, Dana. See you in a minute."
Jack made his way to the park.
"Hey, Jack." Dana smiled warmly.
"Hey, how you going?" Jack asked, raising a curious eyebrow as he sat down. Dana was sitting under a tree. Robby was splayed out on the grass, dead to the world. Jack pulled one of Robby's hands into his own.
"Good, enjoying the sun while we still have some. He's in his house cat era, sleeping in the sun, pretty much since we got here. He's pretty out of it. We had a nice walk, but when we sat down he ...decompensated, I suppose. He took PRN meds without fighting it. He's okay. He knew when to tap out. Never thought I'd see the day. Just how good is this therapist? How are you?"
"I'm a mess, but I'm fine. We seem to take turns dissociating. Sharing is caring, after all." Jack smiled wryly. "I am so fucked if he runs when I'm gone like that."
"He won't. Two days ago? Yeah, he would have. Would have just about killed him, but he would have. Whatever is going on in his head he's at least a little more ...tethered now."
"Last time I dissociated he held me, I came to bundled up tightly in his arms. I didn't expect it. So maybe you're right. What I'm most worried about is in a few days, a week, a month, when he's evened out a little, that he's going to be able to string enough thoughts together to run. Or worse."
"You got him over the hardest part. He's taking the medication. He's going to therapy. Even if he just sleeps for an hour, he's there. I don't know how you swung it."
"He might have said some horrible shit I know he will deeply regret if he remembers it, I've already forgiven him, but I might have risen to the occasion in kind." Jack said with a disappointed sigh.
"You're human." Dana said sincerely. "It's probably time you're a little bit mean to him."
"Yeah, but not like this. It was bad."
"You'll have years to make it up to each other."
"Unless we get hit by a bus. Sounds therapeutic at this point, to be honest." Jack laughed.
"Hmm, I'm with you there." Dana laughed.
Robby stirred. He heard Jack and Dana cackling at something. End of a Long Shift kind of cackle. It was comforting. He could feel one of his hands enveloped in both of Jack's. Connected. Home.
"Hey, Misha. How you feeling?" Jack said, feeling the wakefulness stir in Robby.
"Medicated. Hungry." Robby said, frowning lightly, still splayed out on the grass.
"I have snacks."
"Not ones I like."
"Ye of little faith." Jack placed Robby's backpack on his chest. "In the big pocket."
Robby sat up and pulled out a wealth of snacks.
"I know what you're like hangry on a good day, babe." Jack said.
"Fuckin' A." Dana laughed.
"Rude." Robby said, hazy incredulity at the vast quantity and variety of snacks before him obvious. Robby picked something out and practically inhaled it, and shuffled closer to Jack to wrapped an arm around him before he leaned over and rested his head on Jack's shoulder. "Thank you."
Jack leaned into Robby, propping him up a little.
"Ready to go home?" Jack asked.
"Yeah."
"Same time tomorrow, Dana?"
"Yup."
Jack made dinner. He cooked like he was preparing for a big weekend of hiking and swimming out at the cabin. Robby ate ravenously again, well, as ravenously as he could manage with the medications taking a sledgehammer to his ability to move and think. He didn't expect the mirtazapine cravings to kick in so fast, but given how little he'd been eating, Jack was relieved.
"I'll clean up, I'll meet you on the couch." Jack said, kissing Robby's head, cradled in his arms on the table.
Robby slowly moved over to the couch, lying down across it with his head on the arm rest. Jack made quick work of cleaning up.
"How you feeling?" Jack asked, sliding onto the opposite end of the couch and intertwining his legs with Robby's.
"Horrible." Robby said quietly.
"My cooking that bad?"
Robby lifted his head off the couch to meet Jack's gaze. Despite spending the better part of the day asleep, Robby looked exhausted. His expression was a familiar one, the cocked eyebrow and the endearing smile of you're such a dumbass.
"Tomorrow will be easier." Jack started massaging Robby's calf.
"I don't see how."
"I don't know what happened today, but Dana told me you were upset but that you took PRNs."
"The idea of living this day over and over again sent me over the fucking edge. I was too tired to fucking run. Dana sat on me. I should report her use of restrictive practices to the board." Robby joked. "If I can't run, might as well pass the fuck out. It was humiliating."
"I'm proud of you."
"Why? It's just a different kind of running. It's worse."
"That's bullshit. You know that's bullshit. You took the meds. You hate it but you did it anyway. You didn't run. You stayed. I am proud of you. Tomorrow is going to be easier."
"It feels like giving up."
"Give up. Give in. Let go. Let me help. Just stay with me."
"I can't."
"What's the worst that could happen?"
Robby couldn't answer. The radio static started to take over again, with it came the floating. He felt Jack's hands clamp on his leg, and he started massaging hard.
Jack's voice was tense with effort; Robby would bruise. "What happened to the last sin-eater? With nobody to eat their sins and the sins they'd eaten for others after they died? They were just stuck with them, I suppose. 'For thy peace I pawn my own soul.' A burden like that is incomprehensible," Jack sighed, surveying Robby. He moved his hands to Robby's other leg. "except maybe to you. I don't think there was a last sin-eater. I think the ritual changed."
"...What? I'm Jewish." Robby sighed. He was holding the radio static at bay, with an assist from Jack.
"Roll with me. The ritual changed. We don't eat a postmortem ritual meal to take on others' sins. Living or dead, we end up covered in their blood. We hold their hands. They assault us. We cut them open. We let them walk out the door when they're not ready to accept the kind of help they really need, hoping they'll come back to us when they are. We watch them die. We help them die. They, their families say things to us they've never told anyone. We clean them up to present to their families. We make mistakes because we are human. We do everything right and still can't save everyone. We're there when the Before becomes the After. We live in the space between. We are a vessel for their sins, their suffering." Jack took a deep breath.
"The ritual changed. Others don't eat a postmortem ritual meal over us. We can't hold all that in until we fucking die. We talk about it. We share. We drink too fucking much sometimes so we can forget. It doesn't work. We stand on the roof. It's not easy. We pull each other back from the brink. It's so much easier to carry others' burdens than our own. It is so much easier to absolve the people we love of the sins they carry. It is a gift to have the ones we love absolve us of ours." Jack moved his hands further up Robby's leg and switched again. "You cannot hold all those sins alone. You cannot be the last sin-eater. That is the worst thing that could happen. That's it."
"Jack." Robby warned gently. "Jack, don't. I don't—I can't—"
"Misha? Come here, sweetheart." Jack said, untangling their legs and gently pulling Robby's arm until he folded himself over onto Jack and let the borders between himself and Jack fade. He buried his head into Jack's chest, wanting to tune out anything but the sound of Jack's heart.
"Tomorrow will be easier." Jack said.
"I can't fucking take it." Robby's voice cracked.
"I can. I will. Let me help, that's all."
"You say that like it's simple."
"It is simple. It's not always easy." Jack kissed Robby's head.
"I don't think I can do it."
"I didn't either. I only made it this far because I had you fighting like hell for me. I couldn't do it for myself. I didn't want to. I fucking hated you for doing it; I was ready to die and ...they were happy to let me. You weren't. The only reason my heart is still beating is because of you," Jack tried to breathe through the spike of distress that rose in him; "well, you put me on a plane. I still have no clue how you did it. You got me help. You kept me safe."
A sob broke through Robby, Jack's usually calm and comforting heart now pounding so hard every beat rippled though both their bodies. The thought of its stillness? Jack not being here, breathing, alive, holding him was unfathomable. Jack really only spoke of that time in his life in the twilight between waking and sleep after finding himself back there in his nightmares. It still haunted them both. Robby tried to remember that version of himself, the version so consumed with love for Jack and rage over his treatment that he was driven to move heaven and earth to help. The version of himself who saw Jack at his absolute worst and had put aside his own need to hold Jack and never let go because Jack could not have handled that on top of all the other things foisted on him. Jack would have found a way to fucking run. Robby couldn't take Jack comparing him to Jack from that time. The dissonance of comparing Jack being that broken and Robby himself now just about short-circuited Robby's brain; it wasn't even fucking close. He remembered Daniel asking him if he thought Jack's concern for his safety was warranted. How Jack had pulled him to help. How he hated Jack for it. How Jack had tempered his own need to hold on to Robby and never let go. Jack's sincerity, his patience, his unflinching love, reminded Robby of who he had been, how hard he had fought.
"Misha, my love, I'm right here. I'm okay. You will be, too. Stay with me." Jack tried breathing deeply to calm himself. It wasn't really working. He just held Robby anyway. He focused on heaviness of Robby in his arms, the steady rhythms of Robby's body, the tight grip Robby held him with. They anchored each other.
Eventually, it was Robby that spoke first. "How you feeling?"
"Huh? Honey, I'm okay. I love you. How are you feeling?" Jack said sweetly.
"I'm okay. I love you."
"You hungry?"
"I have eaten more today than I have in the last two weeks. I am still fucking hungry. How?"
"I know. Drugs are great. You need it; you're malnourished."
"You're being dramatic."
"Brother, look at your fucking blood work. You are malnourished."
"Nope. I'll take your word for it."
"If I'm going to get snacks we're both going to have to move."
"I'm comfy." Robby sighed.
"Me too. We'll get comfy again." Jack said, standing up.
"You, me, snacks, bed?"
"Snacks in bed? Smartest thing you've ever said, babe."
Jack grabbed the evening pill box off the coffee table before heading to the kitchen. It didn't escape Robby's notice. Robby made his way to bed.
Jack arrived with snacks, and Robby fell in love all over again.
"You don't have to look at me like I hung the moon for bringing you snacks." Jack laughed.
"I can't help it."
Jack jumped on the bed, and Robby snuggled up to him.
"I could live in this moment forever." Robby sighed.
"Some time soon, we'll go to the cabin, we'll cuddle up in front of the fire, and, I don't know, maybe stay there until we figure out if we want to come back at all." Jack murmured into Robby's neck.
Robby pulled back to look at Jack, surprised. Jack leaned into Robby stroking his cheek.
"Honey, what the fuck?" Robby said.
"What?"
"If we want to come back?"
"Yeah. We don't have to. Early retirement, whatever."
"Retirement? It's what you do. It's your purpose. You're ready to give that up?"
"There's more to my life than work. You are more important to me." Jack said, confused that it apparently needed explanation.
"You'd give it all up?"
"It's selfish, not noble. I love you. You come first." Jack said plainly.
Each word out of Jack's mouth that evening had been a massive destabilising blow to Robby's resolve. Jack knew who he was, what his purpose was, what would fulfil him. He had it all figured out.
"You can't throw it all away for me." Robby stammered.
"I wouldn't be throwing anything away, we'd be living our lives. The minutiae of that doesn't really matter to me. I didn't mean to upset you, love." Jack kissed Robby on the forehead before pulling Robby into his arms properly.
"Don't think about it. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to freak you out." Jack kissed Robby's cheek.
"I love you." Robby said simply, earnestly.
"I love you, too. You okay?"
"Yeah, honey."
"I'm about ready to sleep."
"Me, too."
Jack presented the pill box to Robby. Robby's lip trembled; he'd broken Jack's heart a hundred times in the last two months; a million times over the last five years. Jack was still here. Still doing everything in his power to help. Jack was willing to throw it all away, all of it; the least Robby could do in this moment was to do what needed to be done. To take the fucking pills. To stay in Jack's arms. To do as Jack asked and trust that he had good reason for asking it, even if it felt like giving up.
Robby took the pills and drank a glass of water. He was about to open his mouth and show Jack but he pulled Robby into his arms again before he had a chance. It was with his head on Jack's chest that he fell asleep.
Day 4
Jack awoke with Robby still curled up on his chest. Jack thought about yesterday, Robby's first properly medicated day, his first therapy session. Jack wondered whether Robby would be in a safer head space today. Yesterday was a lot; despite the day consisting of essentially one demand, the appointment with Daniel, Jack wondered if it was too much. Trying to thread the needle of making sure Robby was safe and could rest, and helping him face it all and learn how to cope was difficult.
"Good morning, love." Robby said, kissing Jack's chest.
"Oh, hey, good morning. Good sleep?" Jack asked.
"Best sleep I've ever had. Breakfast?" Robby drawled in his still half-asleep haze.
"Good. I'm going to shower, then I'll whip something up."
"We could shower together?"
"Sounds good to me."
Jack and Robby made their way into the shower. Jack sat on the bench and turned the water on, forever grateful they'd completely rebuilt the en suite bathroom. Accessibility needs aside, a good shower was the closest Jack got to worship; the sins of the day seemed far when he was getting needled by the incredible pressure of the rail-mounted handheld shower head or when enveloped completely by the rainfall shower head above. Jack startled a little when Robby's strong hands touched his shoulders.
"Sorry, honey. You relax, enjoy your shower trance." Robby said, kissing the top of Jack's head.
"You're the fall risk, you should sit down." Jack said.
"I'm fine. I learned my lesson yesterday. Please let me take care of you for a minute."
"Okay. Thank you." Jack softened at Robby's touch.
Robby massaged his way down Jack's body, appreciating the beauty before him. Jack was simply breathtaking, his body a testament to all the things he'd survived, the effort he'd put into not just surviving but fighting to thrive. Robby knew it wasn't always easy. There were still days Jack got up during sleep and in the sleepy haze didn't remember he was missing half a leg until his face met the floor. The bad pain days sometimes got the better of him; a hard reminder that he was limited. It wasn't something he could simply take a holiday from, either; he had to manage himself carefully. Robby steadied himself, mindful of how everything in his head was still fuzzy and how everything in his body was still heavy. Robby's hands massaged down to Jack's hips, carefully loosening the knots in his muscles. Jack was totally relaxed, breathing so deeply he may have even fallen asleep. Robby manoeuvred Jack around, which roused him just a little, so he could work his way down to his legs. He laid Jack down on the bench and lifted Jack's left leg up, and worked his way toward Jack's ankle. Robby moved to his other leg, and took care to check over it, and continued massaging him. It had taken a little while post amputation before Jack had let Robby touch his right leg at all, and completely surrendering to Robby's touch was a testament to the love and trust and intimacy they shared. Jack was completely transparent in Robby's arms, so eager to give himself over totally. Robby was in awe at how freely Jack gave himself over to him. Why the fuck couldn't Robby do the same? Robby noticed they were both half hard. Jack, on his back, his eyes closed, simply enjoying Robby's careful hands. Robby started working his way back up Jack's leg. As he was reaching the more sensitive part of Jack's inner thigh, Jack's hands gently blocked Robby's hands.
"Not today, my love. I love you." Jack said carefully, holding Robby's hand.
A slight whine escaped Robby's lips.
"Me, too, babe." Jack responded. "Sit down with me."
Robby slid himself under Jack's head.
"Thank you, that was fucking lovely." Jack said, reaching up for one of Robby's hands. "Give me a minute. It's your turn."
"You stay put; I'll take care of myself." Robby said, kissing Jack's hand.
"Okay, but while you do, tell me what's in your tomato soup. I'm going to make it for breakfast. I'm assuming we have everything, bread and cheese included?"
"Yeah, should do. Let me make it." Robby said, standing up and carefully letting Jack's head back down on the bench. He kissed Jack's forehead.
Jack and Robby eventually got out of the shower. Jack let Robby make the soup. It needed to reduce a little, so Robby and Jack sat on the couch.
"How you feeling?" Jack asked as he leaned into Robby's embrace.
"I'm okay. I'm hungry."
"Me, too."
Robby kept staring at the morning pill box. He still felt trepidation about the prospect of taking the stupid fucking pills. Jack, apparently hearing Robby's thoughts, opened his eyes and stared up at Robby.
"Wait until breakfast is ready. Don't want you drowning in a bowl of soup." Jack said gently.
"I hate this. I still hate it."
"I know, honey. You're doing great." Jack said, kissing Robby's hand.
Robby picked up a journal Jack had been reading and flicked through it. Jack remained with his head in Robby's lap with his eyes closed. The timer for the soup went off and Jack started to sit up.
"You stay there. I'm going to be asleep for most of the day anyway, let me make the damned sandwiches." Robby said, pushing Jack back down into the couch. Jack yielded to Robby's touch. Jack listened as Robby made the sandwiches and made his way over to the table when Robby turned off the stove. Robby plated up and turned to find Jack at the table.
"Thank you, Misha." Jack said, kissing Robby's hand as he sat at the table.
Robby looked a little stuck; he was staring at the soup.
"Breakfast on the roof feels like forever ago. It's only been three days, and I've spent most of them in a drug induced sleep." Robby said.
"A lot has happened." Jack said gently.
Robby shook his head and averted his gaze.
"Tell me what you're thinking." Jack said, grabbing Robby's hand.
"Nothing. I just," Robby shrugged, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. For all of it. I'm—" Robby choked back tears.
"Misha. Stop apologising. I love you. All I want to do is take care of you. I know it's really overwhelming. Eat. You'll feel better, I promise."
Robby took a deep breath and avoided Jack's gaze.
"I'm crying. Over soup." Robby laughed awkwardly.
Jack stared intently at Robby and waited for him to make eye contact.
"It is really fucking good soup." Jack deadpanned, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Robby threw his head back in the larger-than-life laughter Jack hadn't heard in what felt like an eternity. Robby smiled at Jack, the overwhelming noise in his head had quieted a little. It was certainly easier to bear with Jack by his side. Robby leaned over and kissed him, letting the overwhelming love he felt for Jack take his focus.
"I love you." Robby said.
"I love you, too. Eat." Jack said, squeezing Robby's hand.
After they ate, Robby cleaned up the plates and met Jack at the couch. Robby sat down heavily and stared at the pill box. Jack shuffled over to Robby and straddled him, sliding his hands behind Robby's back and tucking his head into Robby's neck. Robby pulled Jack in tighter against his chest.
"You're in my way, honey." Robby said.
"You can lean forward." Jack said leaning back, pulling Robby with him.
Robby sighed and grabbed the pill box. Jack leaned to the side a little to give Robby more room to swallow. He could feel the anxiety rising in Robby. Robby took a deep breath and swallowed the pills and drank a whole glass of water.
"There you go." Jack said, kissing Robby's neck.
Robby held Jack tightly.
"Your knees are going to hurt soon." Robby mumbled into Jack's neck.
"You probably won't be awake in fifteen minutes. I'll dismount you then."
Robby's grip on wakefulness fell away. Jack held on a little longer, the steady beat of Robby's heart against his own and the gentle rise and fall of Robby's breathing comforted him; it was hard for Jack not to fall asleep. He kissed Robby's neck and gently moved off him. Jack picked up the journal he'd been reading off the table and settled with his head in Robby's lap.
"Mmm, what time is it?" Robby said.
"Good timing. It's almost time to leave." Jack said.
Robby tensed a little. He'd almost forgotten the appointment with Daniel.
"Offer always stands for me to be there with you, babe." Jack said nonchalantly.
"You need to go for a run."
"I can hit the weights at 0200 when you're fast asleep." Jack kissed Robby's leg.
"I'll be fine."
"Take a diazepam before we leave. Like pre-gaming but for therapy." Jack suggested lightly.
"Pre-gaming? Okay, frat boy."
"I'll call Dana, we'll tailgate. It's been a very long time since my last keg stand."
"No it hasn't. Work Christmas party last year? You don't remember because you somehow forgot you're a bit of a lightweight and I seriously considered pumping your stomach."
"I maintain those photos are photoshopped."
"The kids made a fucking collage. The photos can't all be photoshopped."
"Old man."
"Lightweight."
"I have one leg!"
"One and a half."
They broke into laughter.
"We should get ready. Take a diazepam. Think about it." Jack said.
Jack sat up to put his leg on and grabbed Robby's hand.
"Okay. Let's go."
Robby
"He made me drink an ensure again. He also ...encouraged me to take diazepam on the way here after yesterday. Um, yeah, I freaked out a bit yesterday when Dana was babysitting me while Jack was seeing you so I took some pills, as fucking prescribed, and passed out for a bit. In the park. With Dana sitting on me. I was too tired to run, she was trying to calm me down. I wanted to run. I couldn't. The meds were just a different way of running. Yeah, Jack didn't appreciate that framing. He said he was proud of me for taking them, like I'm a fucking child. I don't know why I freaked out."
"I hate the meds. It makes Jack happy. If I had the energy to care about anything it's that. I fuck that up though. I can't seem to stop making him cry. I hate myself for it. I can't feel anything but I still spend most of my day fucking asleep or crying. I feel calmer but not because my shitty feelings aren't there, they're just ...far away."
"Last night Jack and I talked. Well, he talked, I listened. I still can't make sense of it. He said we should go up to the cabin and stay there until we figure out if we want to come back. What the fuck does that even mean?"
Jack
"I think I overwhelmed him. More than he already was considering ...all this, everything. Look. Amongst other things, I compared him to me at my worst, when he got me on that plane. Oh, fuck; I think that really broke him. He's been less volatile, as expected with the sedation, but just so fucking sad. Watching the fire in him go out is horrible."
"He took PRNs yesterday afternoon, voluntarily. He was upset, I wasn't there. He said it felt like giving up."
"Nightmares last night were ...basically nothing. Probably helped Robby was curled up on my chest all night, I don't know."
"I'm starting to see the appeal in running away from it all. It might be time."
Dana had already texted that she and Robby were in the same place as yesterday. Jack replied with a thumbs up and drove to West End Overlook.
"Look what the cat dragged in." Dana said, smiling.
"Hey" Jack said as he sat next to Robby.
"Robby was just telling me about your tailgating plans. I've already volunteered to hold you up." Dana said.
"I won't need holding up if I'm sober to start with."
"I've heard that before." Robby said, raising an eyebrow at Jack.
"You're both bitches and I drink to excess around you because of it." Jack laughed.
"You're a sook." Dana teased.
"I'm in touch with my feelings." Jack shrugged. "You're proving my point."
"Claws away, ladies." Robby said.
"I've gotta head off. I'll see you both tomorrow." Dana said.
"Thanks, Dana." Jack and Robby said in unison.
"Should we head home, too?" Jack asked.
"Not yet. Come here." Robby said, spreading his legs and beckoning Jack who happily obliged.
Jack scooted back into Robby's embrace. Robby rested his head on Jack's shoulder and wrapped his arms around Jack.
"Diazepam was a good call." Robby said simply.
"Did you have an easier time today?"
"I guess so. Still can't talk about my feelings. Still don't know if I want to."
"I didn't want to, either. It's a skill. It takes a while—well, it took me a while to learn. My first ten years in therapy? I cried ...twice? despite the torrent of shit I had to cry about. Just not in therapy. I made heaps of progress in those ten years, but, yeah. I wasted time. I don't know."
"Twice in ten years? Here I was, thinking you're some sort of therapy savant."
"I am. In a bad way. Learn from my mistakes."
"You are so full of shit." Robby laughed and kissed Jack's cheek.
"Come back to me when you've cried twice."
"Never going to happen."
"You gotta. If you want off suicide watch you need to start dealing with your shit."
"I am dealing with my shit. It's been two days. What do you want me to do?"
"Be vulnerable. Try it. Let go of control. Let go of pride or whatever it is. Cry. We have both cried so fucking much in the last few days I'm sure you can give him the greatest hits. Outdo me."
"Are you daring me?"
"Yep. Cry in therapy twice. Do it in ten days. I don't think you can. Prove me wrong, I dare you."
"You're daring me? To cry in therapy? It's not even a good heuristic."
"Sounds like you think you're not up to it. It's a good enough heuristic. Get vulnerable. Cry."
"You are so weird." Robby said fondly, nuzzling into Jack's neck.
"Like you aren't. Accept the dare." Jack taunted.
"What do I get if I win?" Robby teased.
"Anything you want, baby." Jack teased in kind. "Alterations to our ...current arrangements notwithstanding."
"I will hold you to that." Robby said.
"I'm not worried." Jack shrugged.
"You know what? Fuck it. You're on." Robby declared.
"Ten days. I'll be generous. Ten days starting tomorrow." Jack said.
"You really don't think I can do it." Robby said incredulously.
"I didn't think you'd take the dare. I've been wrong before." Jack admitted.
"Daniel is going to have to arbitrate. You are not coming in." Robby laughed.
"Fair enough. From I don't want to talk about my feelings to I'll cry in therapy more than you. I'm getting whiplash." Jack said.
"You started it." Robby said.
"You want to speed run your breakdown." Jack accused.
"Yep. So?" Robby admitted.
"I'm wondering what's worse, that or you pretending you're fine." Jack mused.
"The only way out is through, apparently." Robby sighed.
"Yep. Take it at your own pace. Not your pretending-you're-fine pace. We saw how that turned out. Take it at your own pace. I'm proud of you. I love you." Jack said tenderly.
"Hey, no takes backsies." Robby said.
"I'm serious."
"Okay. I love you, too."
"Let's get home."
"Pizza for dinner? Let's order now."
"Hungry? Me, too. Good plan."
Robby pulled Jack's phone out of his jeans and ordered. He made sure to order extra garlic bread.
"Okay, let's get out of here."
Jack and Robby made it home just before the pizza arrived. They ate and found themselves on the couch again.
Robby pushed the novel Jack was reading to the side. He straddled Jack who had to stretch up just a little to put his chin on Robby's shoulder. Jack breathed Robby in, savouring the warmth and touch and smell. Robby's body on top of him was all it took to stop all the thoughts in his head.
"I love you, too." Robby whispered sweetly in Jack's ear when he yielded to his touch.
"Fuck your knees, you're never moving from here ever again." Jack said wrapped his arms around Robby.
"Sounds good to me."
"How yo—"
"Please don't." Robby pleaded.
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you."
Jack started rubbing firm circles on Robby's back. The tenderness of Jack's touch centred him. Robby's head was kind of empty, maybe fuzzy, and the lightheaded floating feeling hadn't really gone away since seeing Daniel. The juxtaposition of that and the heaviness of his body was something he was still getting used to feeling. Better than abject rage, maybe. It was exhausting.
"I think I'm ready for bed." Robby whispered.
"Sounds good to me."
As Robby pulled away, Jack grunted in displeasure.
"We'll cuddle in bed. Think you can make it?" Robby joked.
"Nope. DOA." Jack said.
"Drama queen."
Robby rolled off Jack and sat next to him on the couch. He reached out for Jack's hand. The static in his head crescendoed. Time for meds. Robby was too fucking tired to cry about it. He was sick of crying about it. Might as well just give up. Give in. Take them. It didn't need to be this fucking difficult. It was fine. Robby swallowed the pills and a glass of water. Jack squeezed his hand.
"Let's get you to bed." Jack stood, still holding Robby's hand.
Jack led Robby to the bathroom where Jack removed his prosthetic and checked his leg while Robby brushed his teeth. Robby loaded Jack's toothbrush and handed to him. They finished up, and crawled into bed. Jack held out his arms and Robby curled up into Jack, his head on Jack's chest. Despite feeling out of phase with the world around him, things felt right in Jack's arms.
"Good night, I love you." Jack said.
"I love you, too."
They were both out like a light.
Jack awoke suddenly, hit with the sudden feeling of something being wrong. Jack felt around the bed for Robby. He wasn't there. Fuck. He's probably just in the bathroom. The light wasn't on, and the bathroom sounded empty. Jack reached for the crutches next to the bed and went to the kitchen. The moon lit the kitchen, casting more shadows than anything. It was dead silent. Robby was standing unusually still, head sagging, at the kitchen counters.
"Michael," Jack said cautiously.
Robby didn't move. Jack moved forward slowly, unsure if Robby was sleepwalking or something. It didn't feel right.
"Hey, Misha, I'm here." Jack walked to the side so as to avoid approaching Robby from behind.
Robby was staring down with a knife loosely held by the hilt in his right hand, the blade resting flat against opened left hand. Jack's heart beat so hard and fast he thought Robby must be able to hear it. Jack reached out and gripped Robby's right wrist firmly. The only sound Jack could hear over his own heartbeat was Robby's sharp intake of breath.
"Michael, what are you doing, sweetheart?" Jack whispered.
Robby didn't move. He wasn't really breathing. Jack pulled Robby's wrist slowly towards him and slid the knife from his grip. Robby was a little rigid, but wasn't fighting Jack, he just seemed stuck.
"Honey, what's going on?" Jack asked gently.
Robby wasn't responding, and still seemed to be holding his breath. Jack manoeuvred between Robby and the counter. When he looked up, Robby's eyes were blank. Jack rubbed firm slow circles into Robby's hand.
"Michael, honey." Jack pleaded.
Still nothing. Jack took Robby's hand and pressed it firm up against his pounding heart. "Misha, honey, I'm here." Jack said a little louder.
Robby took another sharp inhale and blinked. His eyes flitted about a little, but was otherwise totally still. He looked confused. He looked down at Jack, feeling his hand moving a little with the beat of Jack's heart slamming against it.
"Michael, you with me?" Jack asked again.
Robby groaned a little. Progress.
"Sit on a dining chair." Jack said, gently nudging Robby back just a little.
Robby took a small step back and Jack awkwardly broke out from under him and pulled a chair over. He gently nudged Robby towards the chair and Robby sat in it, his facial expression still confused, his eyes still blank. Jack carefully mounted Robby, facing him, legs straddling the back legs of the chair. He pressed his body weight deeply into Robby. All he could feel was the frantic beat of his own heart taking over his body and Robby's, feeling the blood rush in excruciating detail way up his neck, which was now pressed into Robby's. He could hardly fucking breathe.
"Michael, honey, you've gotta breathe. Try it with me." Jack took a deep breath, loosening his grip just a little to allow space for Robby. Robby exhaled a little, and took shallow breaths with Jack.
"Big deep breath, baby." Jack said, trying to demonstrate again. "There we go, bit bigger, now, honey."
Robby seemed to warm back into consciousness a little. He took a deep breath with Jack, nearly pushing Jack off his lap when they breathed together. Jack gripped Robby's shoulders tightly to avoid sliding off and Robby snapped his arms around Jack's back and pulled him in tight against his chest again. Jack hooked his chin up on Robby's shoulder.
"Hey, Misha. You here?"
Robby nodded stiffly in response.
"You doing okay? What's going on, honey?" Jack said gently.
Robby took another deep breath.
"I don't know. I—I don't know." Robby whispered.
"Okay, baby, I'm here." Jack stuttered, his heart had not slowed down. "What were you doing with the knife, honey?"
"Um, I don't know. I just. Wanted to hurt myself? I'm not sure." Robby said quietly, his confusion obvious; he was still pretty out of it.
"Okay, Misha. I'm here. Breathe with me." Jack said, trying to keep the distress out of his voice.
Jack sat in Robby's arms, locked tight, just breathing and struggling to form a coherent thought himself.
"Tell me about it?" Jack asked.
"Uh, I woke up. I wanted to cut myself. I don't know why. I don't know where that came from. I've never felt that in my life. I really wanted to cut myself. I needed to. I never understood why people cut. Is this it? Is this why? What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't understand what's happening to me. Jack, help me, please." Robby pleaded.
Jack's heart broke; Robby was hurting so bad he was begging for help. Another wave of panic hit Jack.
"I'm here, baby. I've got you. You're safe with me now. You need to breathe." Jack said, massaging the back of Robby's head with one hand and squeezing his shoulder with the other.
"What the fuck is happening to me?" Robby pleaded, still hardly breathing.
"We'll figure it out, baby. First step, breathe." Jack reassured.
Robby took deeper breaths, but they were still shallow. Jack looked around for Robby's backpack, loaded up with snacks and his PRN medication pill box. It was under the table, within reach with an assist. Jack pulled back from Robby a little to grab one of his crutches.
"Misha, I'm just grabbing your backpack. I'm not moving further, it's okay. Hold me steady." Jack comforted Robby when he tightened his already firm grip. Jack pushed Robby's hands further down his torso.
Jack pulled the backpack over and pulled the pill box out. Jack opened a compartment and placed a diazepam on the table. He pulled Robby's water bottle out of his backpack, and for once Jack was glad it was still full.
"Take a deep breath. Open your mouth. Here's a diazepam." Jack said, pressing on Robby's cheek.
Jack placed the diazepam on Robby's tongue and handed him the water bottle.
"Big drink." Jack said gently.
Robby complied. Jack took the water bottle from Robby's hand and put it on the table.
"When that kicks in, we'll lie down in bed. We'll see if we can calm down a little before we knock you out with the quetiapine. How does that sound?" Jack said slowly.
"Okay." Robby agreed.
Jack wrapped himself back around Robby tightly. He took deep breaths, hoping to steady the both of them. They sat, stuck in this holding pattern until Robby's breaths became deeper, slower.
"You ready to come to bed?" Jack asked when Robby's grip loosened.
"Okay."
Jack slid off Robby's lap and grabbed his crutches. Jack squeezed Robby's hand. Robby looked up at Jack with his big brown doe eyes and Jack's heart broke all over again.
"Come on, Misha." Jack said.
Robby stood. Jack slipped the PRN pill box into his shorts before placing Robby's hand on his shoulder and leading him to bed. Jack fussed over Robby, getting him settled before curling up against his side and rested his head over Robby's heart.
"Doing okay, Misha?" Jack asked.
"No?" Robby replied.
Jack loosened Robby's arm that was holding him tight so he could lie on top of Robby properly. Robby wrapped his arms around Jack so tightly it took Jack's breath away.
"Okay." Jack said, nestling further into Robby's neck. Jack massaged Robby's head with both hands. "What are you thinking?"
"I don't know. I'm scared." Robby said meekly.
"Do you want to hurt yourself? It's okay to say yes." Jack whispered and kissed Robby's neck.
"Yes. I don't understand." Robby said, gripping Jack tighter.
"Okay, baby. It's okay. Should we get the knives out of the house for a little while? Would that feel safer?"
"Yes?" Robby breathed through his tears.
"I'm going to call Dana. She'll get it sorted."
"Will she come now? What if I wake up in an hour still feeling like this?"
"Yep. I'll call her in just a minute, so even if you do you don't have to worry. What else do you need?"
"Um, I don't know. I just— Why is this happening to me?" Robby pleaded.
"Okay. Your brain is a bit ...uncooperative at the moment. That's all. We've all been there, man. I've had old friends who suddenly had really bad episodes after one tiny stressful thing too many just, I don't know, nudged them over the edge. A speeding ticket. Getting a little bit lost hiking. A few broken toes, not even important ones. The last fucking straw, you know? It happens, babe. It's okay. We'll get you through it. I'm proud of you. I love you."
"I love you." Robby said, almost like it was a prayer.
Jack grabbed his phone off his night stand and called Dana with his head still buried in Robby's neck.
"Hey, Jack, you okay?" Dana mumbled.
"We're okay. Having a tough night and could use backup. Can you come and collect some things for us, please?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, sure, hon. I'll be there in a few." Dana said.
"Thank you, see you then." Jack said, hanging up.
"Dana is on her way." Jack said. Jack pulled his head back to look at Robby who had tears steadily streaming down his smile lines.
"Thank you."
"Want to go to sleep, or do you want to see Dana?"
"Sleep."
"Okay, sweetheart, you got it. You'll need to sit up." Jack rolled to the side and pulled some immediate release quetiapine from the box and put it in Robby's hand after he shuffled to sit up.
"Thank you." Robby said, swallowing the pill and drinking a glass of water.
"Spoons or did you want me on top again?"
"On top."
Robby and Jack settled in as they were before.
"Comfy?" Jack asked.
"Yeah. Don't go."
"I won't move until you're asleep. I will need to help Dana grab everything, but I'll be here when you wake, I promise."
"I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
Robby faded into a deep sleep. Jack remained, gently stroking Robby's face, savouring the warmth of his skin, the movement of his breath. He was just asleep, physically safe for now. Jack felt tears welling in his eyes, the cortisol crash was incoming. Jack could never have forgiven himself if Robby had crossed the event horizon of actively drawing a blade across his own skin. He had promised to keep Robby safe. He'd been fucking that up; Robby had already been hurting himself, for years. Jack's phone lit up with a text from Dana letting him know she had arrived. Jack slowly extricated himself from Robby and quietly opened the door to Dana. She was in her pyjamas but, as always when shit was going down, had her good work shoes on.
"Jack, you look like absolute shit. What happened?" Dana asked, hugging him.
Jack burst into tears. Dana held him close, propping him up as he tried to be quiet. Dana rubbed his back until he was ready.
"Thanks for coming." Jack said, going over to sit at the kitchen table.
"You going to tell me what's going on?" Dana asked softly.
"Can you please take the knives? For a while? I don't know."
"Course I can."
"Might be easier to just remove the drawers entirely."
"Can do. Jack, honey, what happened?"
"I found him in the kitchen. He was just standing there, zoned out, holding one of his huge fancy knives. He said he needed to cut himself but didn't know why. Oh, fuck. Dana, he begged me for help. He fucking begged me for help. He's okay, took some diazepam, cuddled for a bit before knocking him out. I didn't want him to go to sleep that distressed." Jack said tensely.
"Jack, I'm so sorry. He knows he's going to wake up to an empty kitchen?"
"Yeah. He begged for us to do it tonight. He was scared he was going to wake up feeling the same way."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
"Other than the drawers, what else? Any razor blades? Any surgical stuff?"
"Ugh, fuck. Yes. Thank you. I just need a minute to put my leg on."
"Jack, I've got it. Don't worry."
"My blood has been replaced with pure cortisol and I can't go for a run right now. I need to ...move."
"Hit the treadmill while I move shit." Dana shrugged.
"I can't. I need to make sure it's all fucking gone. It's also the least I can do calling you at, fuck, 0300. Christ. Sorry, Dana. Thank you."
"I meant it when I said any time for any reason, Jack. I'm glad you asked for help."
"Me, too."
Jack donned his leg and helped Dana pull out the drawers in the kitchen and load them into the back of Dana's car. Jack threw anything else on the counter vaguely sharp into a bag and took it out. Dana was hanging out of the boot of the car, but stood brandishing a handful of spoons and forks.
"Want to hold on to some of these for a bit?"
"Yes, Dana, thank you. You're fixing all my problems, as always." Jack said, taking the cutlery.
"Don't need to empty the dishwasher you never got around to installing. Time to hit the bathroom and supplies?"
"I don't mind doing the dishes by hand." Jack shrugged.
"Control freak." Dana smiled.
"Like you aren't." Jack accused.
"What should we hit first, the garage?"
"Yeah. At least it's all packed up. And labelled. In shallow tubs that are easy to organise and carry and stack. Being a control freak has its benefits."
"If you weren't a control freak you wouldn't even have a stockpile."
"It's all carefully curated, thank you very much. Stockpile sounds so ...indiscriminate."
"Never change, Jack."
Jack and Dana stacked her car with the tubs from the garage before they headed back inside. Dana flicked the kettle on on her way back in before following Jack into the en suite with a bag.
"You sit on the tub. Hold this."
"Dana, every time I've seen you in the last week you've been waiting on us hand and foot. You sit on the fucking tub." Jack whispered.
"Jack, just sit on the fucking tub. We're family. We look after each other."
Jack relented. Dana made quick work of going through the mostly meticulously organised bathroom storage.
"Anything in the other bathroom?" Dana asked.
"Maybe? Spares of things, mostly."
"We'll check it out. Let's stick our heads in each of the other rooms to make sure there's nothing else." Dana suggested.
Jack followed Dana through the rest of the house, picking up a few things along the way. Dana led him back to the kitchen and clicked the kettle on again.
"Don't you want to get back to bed?" Jack asked, picking a couple of mugs out of the cupboard.
"I'm good. Something tells me you're going to be awake for a little while anyway." Dana said.
Dana finished preparing the tea as the kettle clicked off again.
"Yep. Fuck. Thank you. What am I going to do?" Jack said, wrapping his hands around the mug Dana handed him.
"Your best. I know it's trite, but what the fuck else is there?"
"If my best can't keep him safe I don't—" Jack took a breath. "I don't know what I'd have walked into if I'd woken up two minutes later. Dana, this wasn't going to be a ...controlled release of pressure kind of self injury. I was terrified. I don't think I've ever been that fucking scared."
"You thinking about a step up in care?" Dana asked.
"I'm going to sleep on top of him. If I'm awake I can handle it."
"Want me to steal a bed alarm?"
"Nah. I'll take the handle off the bedroom door when we go to sleep if I have to. That'll slow him down enough."
"Creative." Dana laughed.
"Better than the alternative. Honestly, I don't think he'd even fight hospital after tonight. Oh, fuck." Jack said, tears threatening to spill over again.
"Is it what you want to do?" Dana asked. She held one of Jack's hands.
"Fuck no."
"Didn't think so. What do you need?"
"Enough cocaine to keep me awake for the next two weeks or so. I'd settle for meth." Jack mused.
"You could share a room in psych together. So romantic." Dana laughed.
"The perfect honeymoon. His and his matching antipsychotic prescriptions. All I've ever wanted."
"I've been wondering when you were going to put a ring on it."
"You know how long I've wanted to."
"What the fuck you been waiting for?"
"First for us to take some time off together so I could make a big deal out of proposing. My fault for not just booking the time off. Then 2020 happened. Then I was waiting for ...this."
"Then what?"
"Can't think that far in the future right now."
"That's unlike you." Dana said,
"I just can't. We're three days in. Finding Michael standing in the kitchen, alone, with a knife in his hand wasn't on my bingo card."
"Mine either. Do you want me to stay? Can I do anything for you?"
"No, thank you, Dana. Thanks for everything."
"Happy to help."
"We couldn't do this without you."
"Go to bed. Get some sleep."
Dana put their now empty mugs in the sink and Jack walked her out. Jack sat on the side of the bed and doffed his leg. Robby hadn't moved. Jack curled around Robby, draping himself over him, and was out like a light.
Day 5
Jack awoke just as abruptly as he'd fallen sleep. Robby's heart was beating fast under his cheek.
"Honey, are you awake?" Jack asked.
"Yeah."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just woke up. Anxious."
"Sounds like it." Jack scooted up to share Robby's pillow. Jack stroked Robby's cheek, hoping to somehow take away all his pain through touch.
"What time is it?" Robby asked.
Jack reached over Robby to grab his phone. "1125"
Robby groaned. "I needed to take my morning fucking pills hours ago."
"It's fine, honey. I'll go get them."
"Wait." Robby grabbed Jack's wrist.
"Okay, sweetheart. I'm here."
"Lie on me?"
"You go it."
Jack manoeuvred on top of Robby, tucking his face into Robby's neck.
"How's that, baby?"
"Perfect. Thank you."
Jack could have lain there until the end of time, massaging Robby's head, Robby massaging his, or simply keeping him warm with his giant hands splayed across his back. Just being together. Breathing together. That's all Jack needed.
"What are you thinking?" Jack asked once Robby's pulse had returned to normal.
"I'm actively trying to avoid thinking."
"Not how it works."
"You're not going to ask how I'm feeling?"
"I was hoping you'd tell me when you were ready."
Robby took a deep breath. "I'm tired. I'm scared. I don't know."
"Okay, sweetheart."
"How are you feeling?"
"Hmm? I'm okay."
"Bullshit."
"I'm scared. I'm sorry. I let you down. That about sums it up."
"You didn't let me down. Don't do that." Robby gripped Jack tighter.
"Last night shouldn't have happened. I should have kept you safe."
"Jack, breathe, honey."
"That's my line."
"You're the one holding his breath."
"Fuck off," Jack laughed.
"There you go."
Jack looked up at Robby, struck by how much he loved him, how he couldn't bear to see him struggle.
"If you could straighten out the bullshit in my head by sheer force of will, I'd have been fixed years ago."
"Not going to stop me from trying. You need to eat and take your meds."
"Can we order something and eat in here?" Robby asked meekly.
"Dana came last night. We just pulled the drawers out entirely. We went through the garage and the rest of the house as well. We're going to have to order because I didn't think to French get my shit together and prep things before we did all that. She did think to leave us with some spoons and forks."
"Thank you." Robby kissed Jack's head. "Having a charged phone counts as mise en place. Croissants?"
"Perfect. You're eating two. Please."
"Okay. You want your usual?"
Jack tilted his head back to raise an eyebrow at Robby.
"Doesn't hurt to double check." Robby said with a pointed look of his own. "Okay, that's ordered."
"Brilliant." Jack nestled back into Robby's neck and breathed a sigh of relief.
"You're not going to ask me if I still ...feel like that?" Robby asked quietly.
"You know I've been thinking about nothing else. Are you, sweetheart?"
"I don't know. I remember last night but I don't."
"Do you want me to tell you? At least what I was there for. We can also wait until your appointment with Daniel; I was hoping you'd let me do a hand-off with him at the start."
"I was thinking of asking you to come with me to my appointment today anyway." Robby said quietly.
"I'm there. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Jack and Robby startled by the knock on the door of their food being delivered. Jack fetched breakfast and grabbed Robby's medications on the way back to the bedroom.
"Am I going to be awake at 3 if I take the quetiapine now?" Robby asked with a mouthful of croissant.
"Awake enough. I'll set an alarm. Take them now?" Jack took a moment to flick Dana a text to let her know Robby wouldn't need company this afternoon.
"Good thing we're already in bed." Robby said, chasing his medications with coffee.
"Shut up and eat." Jack said fondly.
Just as Robby downed the last of his coffee, his head fell back to headboard. Jack gently squeezed Robby's shoulders and roused him enough to get himself comfortable.
"Thanks," Robby sighed, asleep before he'd really finished speaking.
Jack stroked Robby's face and curled around him. Jack stayed awake, listening to Robby breathe until the alarm went off.
"Time to go, my love."
"I smell bad."
"You don't."
"You like it when I'm a bit sweaty."
"...and? Daniel isn't going to be curled up on you, is he?"
"I'm going to tell him you said that."
"You're the one that will be blushing, just like that." Jack laughed.
"Come on, let's get you an ensure and we'll head off. We can shower when we get home."
Robby and Jack
Robby sat down in the hot seat in Daniel's office. Jack immediately sat on top of him, which surprised both Robby and Daniel.
"I wasn't going to bother getting comfortable over there." Jack shrugged. He relaxed into Robby's arms and let his head fall back onto Robby's shoulder.
"How you going, Robby?" Daniel asked.
Robby looked to Jack.
"I think you have that one covered, babe." Jack said.
"I'm fucking terrible."
"See, you got it." Jack said, kissing Robby's neck.
"Did something happen?" Daniel asked carefully.
Robby took a deep breath, trying to fight the rising anxiety. He started to dissociate, feeling like he was floating above his own head. He was too afraid to let it take him over completely, like it had last night. He tried and failed to control his level of dissociation.
"Mind taking this one, Jack?" Robby asked.
"I can start, but you're going to have to fill us in, sweetheart. Please breathe. Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night alone. Something felt wrong. I went into the kitchen and Robby was standing there, in front of the drawers, holding one of his obscenely expensive knives. He didn't respond when I spoke to him. I took the knife from his hand. He didn't fight me, I think he was just ...stuck? I was able to coax him into a chair where I sat on top of him for a bit." Jack took a breath, "He told me he needed to cut himself but didn't know why. I don't know what I'd have walked into if I hadn't woken up when I did."
Robby tightened his grip around Jack, he could feel Jack getting lost in his memory of that morning.
"He begged me for help. I gave him a diazepam, and we cuddled in bed for a little after it kicked in. He took quetiapine after I'd organised for Dana to come take all the knives out of the house, at his request. I don't know how long he was up. I don't know what he was going to do with that knife. I told Dana I didn't think it would be the controlled release of pressure kind of self injury. He was not in control." Jack finished quietly. His heart was starting to beat as hard as it had last night.
"Jack, honey, we're okay." Robby whispered into Jack's neck.
"Jack, are you okay? I can see your pulse." Daniel asked. Jack blushed.
"I'm fine. You've got yourself a two-for-one dissociation special over here. Not going to die, just stressed." Jack said.
"Robby, your turn to tell me about last night." Daniel prompted.
"Uh, well, I don't know. What Jack said happened happened. I don't know."
"Do you still feel like hurting yourself?" Daniel asked.
Robby burst into tears. Jack wrested himself from Robby's tight grip so he could turn and straddle Robby facing him. Jack buried his head into Robby's neck and burst into tears himself.
"Honey, do you still feel like hurting yourself?" Jack asked.
"Yes." Robby confessed. "I'm sorry."
"Stop fucking apologising."
"When I stop fucking making you cry."
It took a few minutes for the two of them to relax.
"You okay?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, honey. Are you?"
"Yeah, babe. Do you want me to leave so you can talk?"
"Please stay."
"Okay."
Jack kissed Robby and turned around in his lap again.
"We're a fucking mess. We haven't talked about last night yet. I thought we could use backup." Jack said to Daniel.
"Robby, tell me about last night." Daniel prompted.
"I woke up. Not sure how, with the meds. I woke up and I wanted to cut myself. I felt like a bear caught in a fucking trap. I needed to cut myself. I didn't know that was something a person could feel. It terrified me." Robby mumbled, still feeling distant from himself.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Jack asked softly.
"I wanted to, Jack. I don't know. I'm sorry, I keep fucking saying I don't know but I don't fucking know. I just don't. I wanted to fucking scream for help almost as much as I wanted to fucking cut myself. I don't know, Jack. I'm sorry."
"If you wake up feeling like that again, what do you think you'll do?"
"Jack and Dana cleared the house of sharp objects. It's humiliating. I asked them to. If I wake up feeling like that again I'm going to run to work and fucking lock myself in psych."
"Don't be fucking funny. I need you to wake me. If you think you'll be safer in hospital I'll take you there myself. Misha, please."
"Jack, if I don't joke about it I'm going to start crying. If I start fucking crying again I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop."
"I just need you to let me in. I need you to tell me when you're feeling like that. Don't I always hold you when you cry? You cannot be the last fucking sin-eater. We'll cry ourselves to death together, I don't give a fuck. It just has to be together."
"I'm so fucking scared."
"Of what?" Daniel asked.
"Of myself. Of the bullshit in my head. Of taking him down with me." Robby responded.
"I need you to worry about you. That's all I worry about." Jack insisted.
"I'm sorry."
"What do you need to stay safe?" Daniel asked.
"Knives are gone. Jack is probably going to sleep on top of me for the foreseeable future."
"It's also time to titrate your night time quetiapine. We could go up a lot higher. You've got a check in with Doctor Finch this afternoon anyway." Jack said.
"I think sedating me out of my fucking gourd is safest." Robby said, totally defeated.
"How was Doctor Finch?" Jack asked as Robby padded out of the bedroom.
"She didn't want to switch to different meds, everything's going up in dosage."
"If I'd pushed harder for more appropriate dosages to start with last night wouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."
"If you'd pushed for higher dosages I'd never have taken them. I'd have run. You know that."
"Let me organise your pill boxes."
"I'm going the fuck to sleep."
"Order dinner first?"
"Healthy or garbage?"
"Moralising food is unhelpful, babe. Whatever you're in the mood for."
"Thai. I'm in the mood for Thai."
"Perfect. Tell me the dosages?"
"She said, and I quote, have at it"
"I know she told you what she recommended to start with before saying have at it."
"Yeah, she did. Double everything at night time today, see how I go keeping the morning quetiapine the same and double it in a few days if I'm still fucked. She's sent more scripts to the pharmacy."
"How do you feel about it?"
"Makes me want to walk into traffic. It's fine. It's an appropriate course of treatment. We tried my way." Robby said as he sat down on the couch next to Jack.
Jack straddled Robby and started kissing him all over.
"Jack, I can't breathe. I'm trying to order dinner."
Jack leaned back. "I love you."
"I love you, too. If you don't let me order dinner I'm going to start biting you."
"Sex is not on the table right now."
"I wouldn't be biting you in a sexy way."
"I don't think my dick knows the difference, babe."
"Let me order dinner and we won't have a problem. Also I cried at therapy today. One down, one to go, then I get my anything you want, babe."
"One day at a time, honey." Jack kissed Robby's forehead and dismounted.
"Bed time?" Jack asked soon after dinner.
"Yeah. I'm exhausted."
"Me, too." Jack stood and led Robby to bed.
Robby took his evening meds before undressing and flopping on the bed. He watched Jack check his leg before rolling over and facing towards him. Robby pulled Jack closer and curled up around him, resting his head on Jack's chest. The unrelenting noise in Robby's head dissipated to nothing when he could simply listen to the beat of Jack's heart. Jack adjusted a little and locked his arms tightly around Robby, and they fell asleep.
Day 6
Robby stirred, head fuzzy, feeling heavy. He was still in Jack's arms, where he belonged. He extricated himself enough from Jack's grip to roll over and take his morning meds.
"Breakfast." Jack mumbled.
"Too tired."
"Shotgun an ensure."
"You first."
"Be right back."
Jack tossed an ensure to Robby as he entered the bedroom.
"Jesus fuck," Robby exclaimed, nearly falling off the bed.
"Sorry, honey. Drink that and we can get back to sleep."
Jack got comfortable with a book and beckoned Robby to get comfortable in his arms. Robby nestled in and was asleep almost immediately.
Robby
"I've just been asleep. Doctor Finch increased everything. I told Jack my way wasn't working. It's better than waking up in the kitchen like that."
Jack
"He's always in my arms, where he belongs. I'm catching up on a lot of reading."
"He's not fighting it. He's taking his meds."
"I still have nightmares about the roof. I now have nightmares about finding him in the kitchen."
Day 7
Robby
"He's been reading to me. I don't know what but it's comforting. I just sleep. I'm still so ...disconnected. That's not going to change for a while."
"I still want to hurt myself and I'm so fucking tired of it. I know, it's been two days."
"Jack took me for the electrophysiology study this morning. No issues, thankfully. Jack talked his way into holding my hand the whole time. He was so worried."
Jack
"I had old friends who were ready to die. Two decades of trying to deal with it and getting no relief, or not enough relief and they were tired of it. I don't know why I got lucky. I mean, as Robby rubbed in my face—he was not well. He was panicking and lashing out, it's fine—I still stand on the roof. I still need to ask myself if it's time. I need to give myself that choice. So when these old friends message me to say goodbye, or when they ask me to absolve them before they act on their decision, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Tell them that it gets better? These people tried everything. For years. It's all kinds, too; a lot of them had jobs pretty far removed from combat. Computer geeks, translators, people forgotten about completely. What do I do? How can I help them? How can I lie to them and tell them I don't understand why they're going to do it? I just don't know what I can do. What the fuck do I do with that?"
Day 8
Robby
"I've been thinking about Jake, my sort of stepson. I was supposed to be at PittFest that day with Jake. Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, I can't—"
Jack
"He's a little more awake. We still just spend our days curled up on the couch."
"I think he and I are built for domesticity. We haven't talked about fucking off to the cabin until we figure out what we want to do with the rest of our lives. I could be happy anywhere as long as it's with him. I think he's still too afraid to consider that he has a choice. We don't have to go back."
Day 9
Robby
"I will never ever be able to let That Day go. If I ever could have, given Adamson. What else could every single mass casualty for the rest of my life be compared to? What else is there? Every anniversary, every mass casualty, every fucking disaster meeting for the rest of my fucking life I will never escape it. How the fuck can I move on when I will never be allowed to fucking forget it?"
"I've been dreaming of the people that haunt me. The ones I couldn't save. The people I've hurt. Things I'd forgotten. People, patients, things I shouldn't have forgotten. No, I can't talk about them. Not now."
"I've had colleagues who couldn't take it. Things are supposed to be different now, but internationally we're still fucking killing our own. Young doctors are killing themselves at fucking work. Hospital administration removes furniture from the lounges to discourage staff from taking breaks. Nurses leave the bedside or healthcare entirely because of the conditions and downright insulting pay. Hospitals have wards they could but won't staff. People die waiting for care. I'm not fucking special."
Jack
"I had another friend say goodbye. Got a letter this time. Robby held me and I cried all night. I called the phone tree and he hadn't told anyone else, just me. I'm it. End of the line."
"Robby's doing better. It scares me that if—when he goes back to work he's going to forget all of this. He's going to run headlong into another total fucking breakdown. That might just kill us both."
Day 10
Robby
"I have never felt so kept, so looked after. I don't know. Growing up, I was a member of my community with responsibilities, you know, like, I looked after my grandmother, our community. I can't remember a time when I wasn't responsible for others. I was responsible for making my needs known. I loved doing what I could, and I was treated with care and respect, but I've never been kept. I've never not had responsibilities. Jack is managing my every need and I'm trying to let him. It makes him happy. I don't know how to do this, though."
Jack
"I've been reading. Gotten through books I've been meaning to read for a long time. I read aloud. I started with the ones I think Robby would find boring. I thought he might hate it, me reading to him. Like he'd find it patronising. He curls up on me and I start reading and he fades away. I can relax."
"I don't know what the rest of my life might look like. I've been focused solely on his inevitable breakdown that I've not thought too hard about after."
Day 11
Robby
"I still have no idea what's going on in my head. It's probably for the best. I just listen to Jack's voice and I don't have to think; I can tune out the bullshit and just be with him. Until I pass out. I'm safe with him. I think whatever parts of me couldn't believe that are learning it. After all this he's still here, still holding me. Still not locking me up even though anybody sane would have."
Jack
"I dreamt about the kitchen again, but I found him just after he'd sliced his femoral artery wide open. I called the direct line at work and got my night shifters on the phone so they could send an ambulance straight away, with blood. It seemed faster than trying to explain to the emergency services operator. So we make it in to work and he's still breathing. The cavalry is already there with enough type specific blood to replace his volume three times. He died anyway. In probably one of the worst ways, to him. Suicide, witnessed by his own colleagues who were trying like hell to save him. He'd have hated them seeing him like that, but I think he'd hate the nightmares he'd give those kids, too. I haven't been taking my meds. The sedation is negligible, but I'm still too afraid to risk sleeping through him having another episode like that again."
Day 12
Robby
"I still have the voice in my head, the primal fucking urge to cut myself. I don't get it. I'm tired of it."
"I want to be somewhere else. Jack said this would get monotonous. I know it needs to be. I know I can't cope with anything at all."
Jack
"Thank fuck for depressed European novelists. It would feel weird reading something happy right now."
Day 13
"We should go to the cabin. Yeah, I know, still on suicide watch, still need to be sedated for a little while longer. I want to go and not feel like a burden or a patient or someone who ...isn't well. I just want to be Robby or whatever the fuck is left of me under all ...this. I also cried more than twice within my allotted time frame and it'd be nice to get my anything you want, babe. I think the cabin would be a nice place for it. Maybe I could also cook all the things I had been planning to that weekend." Robby said.
Jack and Robby were curled up in their garden after breakfast, laying down under their favourite tree, facing each other. It was time for Robby's morning medications, but he'd woken up feeling a little more energetic. A little more hopeful, almost. The fear holding him hostage was starting to burn out under the constant cover of the medications he'd previously refused, and actually starting to talk ...around it in therapy.
"You're so beautiful," Jack sighed, stroking Robby's cheek. "I love seeing you smile. We can go to the cabin. Any hints on your anything you want, babe?"
"Nope. Time for my federally mandated nap."
"You seem... more relaxed? Dare I say happier? Cracking jokes about taking meds I know you hate?"
"I woke up feeling okay today. Better than I have in months. Maybe years. I'm trying not to be too optimistic, given everything. I want to enjoy it. I'm learning your most people are only three really bad days from needing psychiatric hospitalisation isn't all that hyperbolic. You'd think I'd have learned that one already. It's also hard to be upset when I get to all my time curled up on you. I should have lost my shit years ago."
"Being taken care of is nice, isn't it?" Jack smiled. "You should let me do it more often."
"Maybe I will. Scoot. It's nap time. Got your book?"
"Yeah. Are you enjoying Anna Karenina?"
"More than I did Les Misérables. Put me right to sleep, that one. Both have too many fucking characters to keep track of."
"I've really only got the bricks I never got around to reading. When the fuck else am I going to get around to them? You, asleep on me, it's perfect. I've been saving the Fagles translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey for when you're zonked out but awake and can actually follow along; you're going to love them. I hope you will, anyway. Good timing considering we'll finish Anna Karenina today."
"You're re-reading not one but two books instead of tackling more of your unread backlog?"
"Yeah."
"So you can read them to me?"
"Yeah."
"I love you. You are such a fucking dork." Robby kissed Jack.
"Take your pills and come here."
Robby
"Jack said early on that I've been so fucking miserable for so long that I can't imagine what I'm like without that. He, as usual, was right. I didn't realise it at the time. I was too fucking angry. It just hit me now how right he was. I said this morning I wanted to go to the cabin and just be me, whatever that is, away from everything. Not to run away. I think I need to figure out what's left of me. I don't know."
Jack
"He was happy this morning. Cautious, though. Mindful. It makes me anxious. If he has a setback, I'm worried it's going to kill him. He's in the black box warning period, you know, he's not out of the woods but functional enough to put plans into action. I feel so fucking guilty ...doubting him. He wasn't delusional that he was going to wake up feeling that good forever, or anything, but if he stumbles here, it's going to crush him."
"Is it time we start cooking again?" Robby asked, falling onto the couch alongside Jack after dinner.
Jack pursed his lips, and pulled Robby in closer.
"Honey, I need more time. I'm sorry."
Robby's tears spilled over. Jack expected Robby to turn away from him, but Robby nestled in closer, seeking comfort.
"Okay, yeah. It hasn't been all that long." Robby said somewhere in the vicinity of Jack's armpit.
Jack pulled Robby up, cradling him in his arms and wiped his tears away. "I'm scared that I can't keep you safe. We're so close to being out of the woods. You're doing to well, Misha. I just need more time."
"Okay," Robby sighed, surrendering to Jack's careful touch.
"Jack, honey, please wake up." Robby squeezed Jack's arms tightly. Jack's eyes flicked open.
"What is it, honey? Are you all right?" Jack asked seriously.
"I'm struggling."
"Baby, you woke me." A warm smile broke across Jack's tired face.
"I told you I would. Please help."
"What do you need?"
"I want to hurt myself again. I don't want to want it. Please lie on top of me."
Jack crawled on top of Robby and tucked his head under Robby's chin. Robby's heart was racing. Jack breathed deeply, and soothed Robby, panicking beneath him.
"I love you, Michael. You know that?"
"I do. I love you."
"Thank you for waking me."
Day 14
"Hey," Jack sighed.
"Morning,"
"How you feeling?"
"I'm okay. I'm doing better, thank you."
Jack pulled Robby into his arms. "You woke me up." Jack smiled.
"Thank you for looking after me."
"It's all I want to do. Breakfast and The Iliad?"
Robby
"Jack isn't comfortable having the knives in the house yet. I wanted to cook for him. My grandmother taught me to cook; she raised me. Jack likes to cook because Jack likes to eat. It's more than that for me, I guess."
"Jack's sharing more with me. He's reading me Homer. The Iliad. I think he could be really happy just never going to work again, I don't know."
Jack
"He asked if we should put the kitchen back together, and I said no. It broke my heart to say it. I expected him to be hurt and angry with me but he nosedived into me for comfort."
"He woke me up last night. He asked me for help. I really didn't think he would. I've held him when he cried so hard he vomited; we're no strangers to each others' bodily fluids or big emotions. It's a different kind of vulnerability and intimacy for him to feel like that and ask me for help so directly."
Day 15
Robby
"Jack said this would get monotonous, but it's hard not to just fall into his arms and be happy. I feel like I can deal with the bullshit in my head when I'm with him. I suppose it's easy when the noise in my head is largely sedated away."
"I'm starting to think wonder what the rest of my life could look like. At least in the short term, maybe Jack's suggestion we go to the cabin and not come back until we figure out what we want to do is exactly what we need. I don't know why it scared me so much."
Jack
"I stopped wearing my ring, a few weeks ago, maybe? If he's noticed—he absolutely has, we are always touching—he hasn't said anything."
Day 16
Robby
"I had another rough night last night. I don't know how I'm waking up through the meds. I was okay, Jack was there. The thoughts about trying to find sharp objects were easier to push away. I didn't wake Jack, I didn't need to. I just... let the thoughts exist and focused on Jack's breathing."
Jack
"He's in my arms, but I still have nightmares about the roof and the knives. I know my anxiety over that is a me problem, but I'm finding it hard to balance getting over my own bullshit and the very real possibility he's going to hurt himself."
"It's been a couple of weeks, now. I know he's still struggling, but he's coping so much better. I'm still worried he's going to have a big setback but maybe we can go to the cabin for a couple of days and just pretend everything's fine for a bit."
Day 17
"Good morning, my love" Jack whispered in Robby's ear.
"Hey," Robby turned his head and kissed Jack.
"How would you feel about going to the cabin just for a night? You can do telehealth with Daniel, or you can skip one or both days, and we can do nothing there. We'll leave really early on the way there and leave really late on the way back. What do you think?" Jack asked.
"Did you discuss this with Daniel?" Robby asked carefully.
"No. I wanted to discuss it with you first. Besides, you know the rules, we're two separate clients who just happen to be ...deeply enmeshed." Jack smiled. "If I want to touch base with Daniel about you or your treatment, I tell you I want to, why I want to, and I do it with you there. Like after the night with the knife. Those boundaries are absolute beyond the clearly defined Jack, I need to call Robby, now. I think it's safety plan time and vice versa." Jack explained.
"We haven't really talked about that night."
"What's on your mind?"
"I don't know, I think I'm just stuck there, a little."
"Rumination, we're well acquainted. Why are you stuck on it?"
"I feel like if I can just figure out that night, I can start to figure out everything else. I don't know. I can't really remember it, or connect with it. I don't want it to happen again. I think you might also be a little stuck there, too."
"I'm trying to work through me being stuck on it with Daniel. I was so afraid. I have never felt that scared in my life."
"I know. I was out of it, but you sitting on top of me, your heart beating against me like I've never felt anything before. It was the only thing I could feel. It was the only thing that ...interrupted the bullshit in my head. I've never felt someone else's heartbeat deep in my bones before. I was so scared for you. You were terrified, honey. I'm sorry."
"Misha, my love, it's okay." Jack stroked Robby's cheek.
"Have you been having nightmares about it?" Robby asked, with an almost imperceptible hint of accusation in his tone.
"Yes." Jack sighed.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Robby asked.
"I didn't want to derail you or make you feel bad, or make it about me because it's not. I'm coping okay. I didn't want the feelings about my bullshit to scare you away from telling me what's going on inside your head."
"That's bullshit. You think keeping things from me helps me?"
"Yeah, I hoped in this case it would." Jack challenged gently.
"Tell me about the nightmares."
"They're exactly what you think."
"If they were just that you'd just fucking tell me."
"The worst ones are where I get you to the hospital and you die there. Surrounded by our colleagues, who I know you would hate to see you like that. You would hate to give them nightmares like that. The ones where I find you've carved yourself up aren't particularly pleasant, either, but when there's that flicker of hope when I get you to the hospital still breathing and you die anyway, it just wrecks me."
"Hey," Robby caressed Jack's cheek. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine, I can handle it. Probably should have talked about that night earlier but I didn't know how. I didn't know if you were ready. I didn't know if you wanted to. I am scared of pushing you away. You're opening up to me more than you have in a long time. I don't want to ruin it. I know this has all been really overwhelming."
"You should have told me that."
"I should have."
"Why the cabin? Why now?"
"I think we could both use a change of scenery."
"You're not worried about me missing therapy?"
"You don't have to miss it if you don't want to. I think a couple of clear days might be a good opportunity to catch our breath."
"Come with me to discuss it with Daniel?"
"Of course."
Day 18
"Honey, we're here, just in time for sunrise. We can go back to sleep after." Jack said, squeezing Robby's hand.
It was a cool, brisk morning. Jack was surprised Robby didn't wake up with the jostling of the car over the untamed ground from the border of their property to the cabin itself. Robby needed another minute to wake up. Jack unlocked the cabin with a few basic necessities in hand and lit the fireplace. He put away the groceries he'd brought, and slid open the heavy curtains hiding the wide floor-to-ceiling windows on the east side. He stepped onto the deck and threw the cushions over the outdoor lounges before going back to the car to find Robby stirring a little.
"Come on, I've got the deck set up. We can fall asleep watching the sun rise." Jack said.
Robby grunted and stretched his way out of the car. Jack led him out to the deck.
"Big spoon or little spoon?" Jack asked.
"Big."
"Go on, then."
"Oh, I forgot we spent all that money on obscenely comfortable outdoor furniture."
"We're too fucking old not to."
"This is too fucking good. I love you."
"I love you, too. Get comfy." Jack said.
As Jack sat down, Robby unzipped his hoodie. He tucked Jack inside it with him where Jack melted instantly. Robby's warmth, his strong arms, his body pressed into him, his soft breath, and the sunrise unfolding before them was perfect. Jack was serious about staying here longer term when they were ready to figure out what to do with the rest of their lives. They'd put a lot of work into rebuilding what was originally a humble, rustic cabin into the still rustic but accessible, warm, and extremely comfortable haven it now was. Jack watched the wildlife shift change; the nocturnal animals handed over to the diurnal ones.
"Oh," a sigh escaped Robby's lips. "It's beautiful."
"Isn't it?" Jack smiled.
"I could live in this moment forever." Robby said, nuzzling into Jack's neck.
"Me, too."
Jack startled awake, the sun high over head.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Robby murmured.
"What time is it?" Jack asked.
"About 11. Yes, I took my morning meds. I took them a little early. You can relax." Robby smiled.
"I had so much planned."
"You implied you had capital-N Nothing planned."
"Yeah. I wanted to go for a swim, maybe a walk. I thought we could cook. Cuddle in front of the fire." Jack said.
"Sounds like heaven."
"It is when I'm with you."
"What do you want to do first?"
"I think a swim would be nice. Are you right to swim or are you too loopy?"
"I'll be fine. Let's go."
Jack and Robby walked down to the lake, hand in hand. Jack stopped on the grassy bank under a copse and pulled Robby to a stop. Robby smiled sweetly at Jack. Jack peeled off Robby's hoodie and steadied himself on Robby's hips before going on tiptoes to kiss him. Robby took a deep breath and smiled; he slid Jack's shirt off over his head and pulled his own off by the back of the neck.
"You are so beautiful, Michael." Jack said, gripping Robby's hips tighter.
Robby blushed deeply down his chest. He didn't feel self conscious about his body or his blushing as he often might. Jack's awe at his body was something he never really understood, but something about Jack's honest and unashamed desire broke through his doubt. He felt the heat sit heavy in him, but now was not the time.
"Let's sit down, I'll help you with your leg." Robby said.
"Okay," Jack said, sitting on the grass.
Robby sat facing Jack. He tenderly released Jack's leg and the socks. He massaged his way down Jack's leg, and Jack leaned back heavily on his thick arms as Robby checked over and released the tension.
"Misha, honey, that feels amazing, thank you." Jack's head rolled back in pleasure.
Robby pulled Jack's pants off, and wriggled out of his own. Jack went straight into the water, yelping a little at the shock of the cold. Robby preferred to slowly let himself in to the water. Jack was sculling water, shaking his head and smiling at Robby's more cautious approach.
"Come on, it's lovely. Water's clear, the sun is shining, if you swim over here it's warmer." Jack teased.
"I was just being cautious." Robby said, swimming over to Jack.
Jack swam into Robby's arms, pressing their bodies together, pushing his arms behind Robby and moving enough water to keep him from sinking them both. Robby extended his arms out to maintain balance with Jack. Robby leaned in to Jack's touch, feeling the borders between his body ending and Jack's body beginning losing definition. He let his mind wander to the scenery around him, the cool water at his back and the warmth of Jack's body, breathing deep. The sunshine filtering through the trees, the clouds slowly moving by.
"What are you thinking about?" Jack whispered.
"It's just so unbelievably perfect. It's breathtaking." Robby kissed Jack's cheek.
"I'm glad we came, too, Misha."
Robby wrapped his hand around the back of Jack's head and kissed Jack with an unexpected intensity. Jack rolled his hips and pressed himself tighter against Robby. Jack bit Robby's lower lip, edging the line between pleasure and pain. Robby moaned into Jack's mouth and let his hand slide down Jack's torso. Robby nipped his way across Jack's jaw, and down his neck, enjoying the thrumming of Jack's pulse against his tongue complimenting Jack's heart pumping frantically against his own. Jack pulled Robby back up, kissing him deeply and grinding their mutual hardness against each other. The hot pleasure built between them as they kissed and bit and felt their bodies moving together, feeling weightless in the water.
"Oh, fuck," Jack gasped, coming up for air.
"I'm going to—" Robby was cut off by Jack's mouth crushing against his.
Jack gasped and moaned into Robby's mouth as he rocked his hips into Robby. Robby moaned, the pulsing release of the heavy pressure locking his body tight. Jack rolled his hips once more and moaned again into Robby's mouth as he came hard against Robby. With their orgasms still rippling through them, they had to flounder to avoid sinking. Still shuddering, they each stuck an arm out to stay afloat.
"Skinny dipping and coming from a hot and heavy make out and grinding sesh? You're making me feel like a teenager." Jack smiled.
"We haven't had sex in a month; we're probably going to have to work a little harder next time." Robby laughed.
"I like to savour it, savour you." Jack said.
"We're not twenty five any more, not sure we have a lot of choice." Robby laughed.
Jack took Robby's hand and floated on his back. He tugged at Robby's hand until he lay back in kind. Jack stretched out, breathing a sigh of relief. Robby spread out, too, and Jack felt Robby's index and middle fingers slide up to his radial pulse, and Jack adjusted his fingers to find Robby's. This is exactly what they both needed, floating in post-orgasmic bliss, tethered but free, warmed under the sun.
"I'm going to fall asleep like this if we stay here." Robby sighed.
"Me, too. I guess we should make our way back." Jack sighed.
Jack and Robby made their way back up to the cabin.
"What are we cooking?" Robby asked.
"You tell me, chef. I packed a bunch of stuff."
"We could make pierogi?" Robby suggested, digging through the fridge and the cupboards.
"Yes, chef. I'll start on the dough?"
"Yes, chef." Robby smiled, shaking his head.
"I packed your knives, chef." Jack said.
Robby turned around, a quizzical look on his face.
"I swung by Dana's on the way. You were asleep. I packed a knife roll. We usually bring them with us when we come here. Here, they're in the bag on the couch." Jack said. "Honey, are you okay?"
"Um, yeah. I just. Knives." Robby said hesitantly.
"I can pack them up where you can't get them after we cook?" Jack asked tentatively.
"Probably wouldn't hurt. We talked about cooking but I didn't really think about having knives. It's been easier to cope with that weird part of my brain telling me to cut myself when I know it's going to be a pain in the ass trying to find something sharp. I know I wanted the kitchen set back up at home the other day, but, yeah, it wasn't the right time. I guess I'm just a little nervous."
"I've got you." Jack stepped into Robby's arms and nuzzled into his chest. "I brought a safe. It's in the boot. I can put them in there right now. I only packed some Kiwis so we could throw them in the lake if you'd prefer?"
"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me. You think of everything."
"I need to step up my game, then."
"I was being hyperbolic, chef." Robby kissed the top of Jack's head.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just need a second to hold you."
"Yes, chef."
Robby smiled into Jack's hair and held him. "Okay, I'm ready."
Robby and Jack moved around the kitchen effortlessly, moving in tandem and wordlessly coordinating. When the prep was done, Robby turned on the stove and Jack went to tidy up the dishes.
"I'll be right back, babe." Jack said, wrapping up the knife roll.
"Thank you. I love you." Robby called over his shoulder.
Jack and Robby ate out on the deck, overlooking the beautiful forest and lake.
"You really want to stay here for a while and figure out what to do with the rest of our lives?" Robby asked quietly.
"Yeah, babe. We have options. Whatever we do next we should do it with intention. No more pulling sixteen shifts a month because that's what we're allegedly supposed to do, you know? No more picking up shifts because we'd rather be elbow deep in someone else's blood than have to sit with our feelings." Jack said.
"I never thought about it like that."
"I know. I have, for a long time, but I've been making the wrong decisions anyway."
"How do you mean?"
"I was going to propose in 2019. I was waiting for us to line up a few days off together so we could come here and not disturb any neighbours with all the wild sex we'd have for a week straight. I should have adjusted your schedule and just made it happen. Then 2020 happened, and I was going to propose anyway, but then Monty died. I was planning on asking him to officiate for us. I couldn't propose while you were so lost in that grief, which you still are, and with the unrelenting fucking onslaught of trauma that has been the last five years, it didn't feel right to propose when we were both still running away from it all."
"You weren't running from anything." Robby scoffed.
"I was. I just told you half the shit I was running from. I've been waiting for you to face your shit for years. I ran away from pushing you further with it. I was running away from telling you how fucking scared I am that you'd let it kill you before you dealt with it. I have no idea what I could have done to stop you falling as hard as you did, I really don't. I haven't handled that particularly well even though it's been five fucking years in the making. I risked losing you either way; you either jump of the fucking roof, or you leave me because I won't stop pushing you to get the help you needed. Just because I go to therapy doesn't mean I don't still run from shit. I ran away from proposing because even though we are both extremely fucking aware how things can change in an instant, I was too afraid to do it. I've never really felt that before, the analysis paralysis leading me to indecision. I'm just lucky it hasn't gone worse. Whatever we do next, we decide together. We just can't fall back into old bullshit without thinking about it; I just can't do that any more. I don't think you can, either. It will kill us both." Jack's breath caught.
"Jack, come here, honey." Robby said, pulling him into his arms. "Breathe with me, baby."
Robby cradled Jack tight against his chest, Jack's legs sticking out to the side over Robby's thigh.
"We're okay, baby." Robby whispered. "Do you want to talk about our options now? I know it's been on your mind. I know I freaked out a little when you originally suggested we think about it, but I just needed a minute to sit with it. We don't have to make decisions now, but maybe we could just throw some ideas around. What do you think?" Robby asked, squeezing Jack's shoulder with one hand and caressing his face with the other.
"Yeah," Jack sighed into Robby's chest.
"Let's start with work. Nuclear option, we could take an early retirement if we wanted. I know we're not making decisions right now but I think the best option would be to do fewer shifts. I don't think working as much as we both have is the right choice, not now, maybe not ever, but that's an option, too." Robby started.
"If we work, our schedules need to line up better and we need to give ourselves time to come here." Jack added.
"Good idea."
"We need to commit to checking in about these decisions regularly. Maybe we'll want to work a little more. Maybe we'll want to run away to Spain. It's not just a one and done thing, the decision making."
"Yep. We've also been talking for so long about getting married that we should probably just consider ourselves engaged already. Unless you want to invoke lemon laws on me." Robby kissed Jack's forehead.
"Babe, I wanted to make a whole thing of it." Jack said smiling into Robby's chest.
"I know, you are terminally romantic. We can do a big gesture of ...something some other time. It's kind of perfect. You in my arms, sun just starting to go down, comfy furniture, on the deck we rebuilt. It's time. This is my anything you want, babe. I told you I'd hold you to it."
"Your racing heart is betraying your attempt at nonchalance, my love."
"You think I can't feel yours doing exactly the same? Is that a yes?"
"Of course it is." Jack turned his head to kiss Robby.
"Okay, so we'll have to add wedding planning to our list of things to do, fiancé."
"Fiancé is nice." Jack smiled. "Okay, so work options are on the table. We need to plan our home life, too. I want us to cook more. I want us to eat together more."
"You want me to eat more."
"I need you to eat. You need you to eat. The mirtazapine is doing you good, baby." Jack reached up and stroked Robby's cheek.
"I don't need any extra padding."
"You say that like you have extra padding in the first place. God, you are so fucking beautiful. You know not eating is going to come for all that muscle, babe. You know not eating has been making you sick. Have you talked about it with Daniel?"
"Not yet."
"Okay, add that to your list of things."
"Okay," Robby sighed.
"Thank you. I love you." Jack smiled up at Robby.
"I love you, too. You took your ring off. A while ago, now. You never talked with me about it. I've been worried, honey. You know I love that you wear it; I miss her, too." Robby drew his thumb over Jack's temple.
"Yeah. I don't know. I'm long past worrying I'll somehow forget her, or that I'll disrespect her memory. She'd have hated I worried about that at all. She'd have been pissed we didn't immediately get married, too; I think she saw us getting together in some form as inevitable. She'd have said to double book it with her wake; why waste all the food, flowers, and everyone being together? Oh, fuck, I miss her so much. The ring? Whether to wear it, or how to wear it was just another decision I've been avoiding, you know? I've been ready to take it off for a while. I know she's always with me. With us." Jack laughed through his tears.
"A wake/wedding. Can you imagine? Both of us, in our nicest suits, just sobbing on each other? You may now kiss the widow. It would have given everyone something to talk about. Do you remember when we were all at that conference? The three of us going up to your room, hardly able to keep our clothes on or our tongues in our own mouths, but when we finally made it, we all just fell asleep, half dressed, dicks hard, holding each other? We were so young." Robby smiled.
"So young and already so tired. She and I woke up with our fingers knitted together in your chest hair, with you cradling both of us, a giant warm hand of yours on each of our hips. It was perfect. I think we could have woken up like that every day for the rest of our lives if we'd bothered to actually think about it. She'd be proud of you, you know." Jack sighed.
"She'd be proud of you, Jack." Robby kissed Jack's forehead.
"I hope so." Jack nuzzled into Robby's chest.
"What else do we need to figure out?" Robby asked, stroking Jack's cheek.
"We need to trust each other. I've been holding shit back from you lately. You've been more open with me, but I think you're holding back, too. I've told you what I'm afraid of, losing you, pushing you away, making it all harder for you. Not being able to keep you safe. What are you afraid of?" Jack levied a firm, loving stare up at Robby.
"I'm afraid to trust myself. I don't know where to go from there. The noise in my head sometimes drowns out the parts of me that know you're there for me no matter what, and I'm afraid to talk about that doubt, like saying it makes it real." Robby let out a careful breath.
"So we make a promise. We need to tell each other when there's noise in our heads. Even if we don't tell each other what it is, big or small, we tell each other it's there. We can start with that. What do you think?"
"Doesn't that sound too ...simple?" Robby asked.
"Simple, yes, easy? Well, we've both been fucking it up lately, my love." Jack responded.
"Fair point. I promise to tell you when there's noise in my head." Robby said.
"I promise to tell you when there's noise in mine. I love you." Jack said. He pulled Robby's hand in and tucked it against his chest.
"I love you. I cannot wait to marry you."
"You're going to have to; we have a party to plan."
"We don't have to throw a party to get married."
"Yes, we do. Doesn't have to be a big one. We are not getting married without at least some of the people we love by our side happily screaming l'chaim and I don't know, doing fucking keg stands with us. Simple as that."
"This is important to you."
"Of course it is. Not the keg stands part, but the rest of it absolutely is."
"Liar. You love keg stands." Robby smiled.
"Michael, I'm serious. I could have lost you a hundred times in the last three weeks. Our lives are worth celebrating. Our love is worth celebrating. Both of us being total basket cases with complementary suicidal ideation is worth celebrating. We've waited for so long. We shouldn't let this pass us by." Jack gripped Robby's hand tightly.
"Jack, honey, you're right. I'm sorry. Hey, I love you; let's throw a party about it."
"Thank you. Are you going to make all the planning this difficult?"
"No, I promise, I'll be good." Robby said.
"No, fuck that, this is our party. I need you to care enough to argue about it with me."
"You're cute when you pout. I promise I will argue about our wedding with you. I do care."
"Thank you. Are you getting cold? Should we head inside?"
"Yeah, we can curl up in front of the fire and watch the sun set."
"It's my turn to be big spoon."
"You got it."
Jack led Robby inside, curling up on the couch after removing his leg. Robby crawled into Jack's embrace. It wasn't long before Robby was lulled to sleep. Jack stroked his fiancé's hair, a burst of joy flooded Jack at the his impending marriage. They were finally doing it. Everything seemed so easy here, so far removed from everything awaiting them back home. Jack watched the fire and let its dancing flames drown out everything else going on in his head.
The sun had gone down, the fire had just about died out, and Robby was still asleep in his arms.
"Misha, I think it's probably bed time." Jack whispered.
"Hmm? Yeah."
"We can get comfy in bed. Come on."
Robby stood up reluctantly. "I'm going to carry you to bed."
"If we fall, we're going to be stuck here for hours. I might not share my opiates while we wait." Jack teased.
"We both know you cannot say no to this face." Robby said, pulling the saddest puppy eyes at Jack he could muster.
"Come on, play fair."
"You don't, why should I?" Robby laughed.
"All right, come on then, it'll be good practice for our wedding night." Jack let Robby scoop him up and carry him to bed.
Robby sat down on the bed and gently helped Jack off his lap.
"Who's the fall risk, now?" Robby asked.
"Still both of us, babe." Jack laughed. "Got your pills?"
"No. We still need to brush our teeth."
"I just got carried to bed, my teeth can wait."
"Come on. I'll carry you to the bathroom, all ten feet."
"No, I got it. Fucking oral hygiene. Could you find me some crutches, please?"
"Be right back." Robby left the bedroom and returned, pills and crutches in hand.
"Thank you."
"Come on, you can lean on me while you brush."
"Like I can focus on brushing my teeth with you pressed up against me."
"Something worth doing well is worth half-assing."
"I hate it when you use my own words against me." Jack said, going in to the bathroom.
Robby followed Jack and pressed up against Jack's back. Jack leaned back into Robby and brushed his teeth. Jack went back to bed and waited for Robby.
Robby took his evening medications and crawled into Jack's open arms, resting his head on Jack's chest.
"I have head noise." Robby sighed.
"Want to tell me about it?"
"Um, yeah. I've felt more like myself today than I have in years. I'm scared we're going to go back home and I'm going to fall apart again." Robby said with a furrowed brow.
"Do you want comfort or do you want my plan?" Jack asked.
"Hmm. Plan?"
"If you fall apart, we'll get you through it, like we have the last few weeks. If we get home and you want to come straight back here, we can. I'll grab a laptop so we can get set up for telehealth a bit better here. I don't think you're going to fall apart, but I know that's probably not all that reassuring. Look at it this way, if you were in hospital, you'd be looking at moving to a lower acuity ward, with the goal of getting you ready for transitioning to outpatient care over the next few weeks. You're taking your meds which are helping, you'd trial reducing your level of sedation now that you're a bit more stable, you have more insight, and you're doing pretty well, right? You've been able to seek asylum, pun intended, from the brain-breaking real world, and the prospect of having to face it when you still feel rocky and ill-equipped is really scary. It's no consolation but it's normal to be nervous about it. It's healthy. You've fought hard for the progress you've made."
"I fought hard against it, too."
"Yeah, babe, lacking insight does that to a motherfucker."
"I don't think I could take it. Falling apart again, I mean. Not now. If I can't climb out of this fucking hole—I'm so tired, Jack." Robby pleaded.
"I know, Misha. We'll take it at your pace. There's no timeline on anything, getting married, making the big decisions, or getting 'better', whatever the fuck that means. We have shelves of books to read, miles and miles to swim and hike, thousands of sunsets to watch together. There are going to be setbacks. There's going to be good days and bad days, but I'll be there for them. I'll carry you. Let me."
"I don't have to be the last sin-eater."
"No, honey, you don't. I've got you. You've got you, too."
"Do you really believe that?"
"Yeah. I really do. I'll believe enough for the both of us until you're ready to carry some of it, too."
"Hell of a plan." Robby sighed.
"I know. How you feeling?"
"Safe. Like it's all under control. Thank you."
"I love you." Jack smiled.
"I love you, too."
"Roll over? Let's spoon."
"This is my happy place," Robby protested.
"Me too, babe, but your meds are going to kick in any minute and I need to roll over. Don't look at me in that tone of voice."
"It's dark, you can't even see my face."
"I don't need to."
"Fine." Robby said, rolling over. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out.
Day 19
Robby awoke, sun streaming through the bedroom window. Jack was not in bed. Robby padded out to the kitchen to find Jack wearing only an apron, tending the stove. Robby couldn't help but smile. Jack would be naked every hour of every day if he had a choice, much to Robby's delight.
"Behind!" Robby called, slapping Jack's ass and squeezing it. Hand still on Jack's ass, he wrapped his other arm around Jack and kissed his neck.
"Jesus H, I'm armed, here. I know my hearing is a bit fucked but how you sneak around I will never know. Good morning, fiancé dearest. I was going to say if you did that in a professional kitchen before I realised I'd have to finish that sentence with you'd be promoted." Jack said.
"It is a good morning, beloved fiancé. If we were in a professional kitchen you'd be wearing pants and maybe I could control myself. What's for breakfast?"
"Not sure yet, just chopping shit up until inspiration strikes." Jack mused.
"Chopping stuff? Without a plan? You're going to be the death of me." Robby laughed.
"Back up plan is always omelettes. A little uninspired, but always works."
"You're insane."
Jack turned his head, levying a you sure you want to go there? stare; Robby just laughed.
"What do you want to do today?" Jack asked.
"You're the planning expert in this relationship."
"I'm not the one in this relationship whose title includes Chief, babe."
"Maybe that won't be either of us."
Jack put the knife down and turned around. Robby kept his arm around Jack in place and moved his other hand to Jack's hip. Jack's lips were pursed, and one eyebrow was raised; a prompting stare of care to elucidate further?
"I don't know, the thought exited my mouth before it had really entered my brain. Not being chief works for you. Maybe it'll work for me, too. It's just another option to add to the list to consider, I guess." Robby said, returning Jack's stare with a warm smile.
"God help whoever ends up replacing and also managing you. You'd be a fucking nightmare."
"You could do it." Robby laughed.
"That could do wonders for our sex life. I think we'd have to have a lot of hate sex, at work, to keep from ripping each others' heads off. Could be interesting." Jack deadpanned.
"Okay, so neither of us have to be chief."
"I like that more; it'd do wonders for my blood pressure." Jack said.
"For yours?" Robby smiled.
"Yeah, you not being chief would reduce my stress significantly."
"Your blood pressure is fine, Mister Athletic Bradycardia."
"It's Doctor Athletic Bradycardia, if you don't mind."
"Yes, chef."
Jack laughed and leaned in to kiss Robby.
"You're going to ruin breakfast." Robby accused.
"Nothing is actually cooking yet. You're distracting me."
"You're the one cooking naked."
"I'm wearing an apron! From your view I'm practically chaste."
"Not from behind."
"I'm hungry. I assume you are, too. Are you going to distract me or are you going to help?"
"Okay, I'll help. I'll get the eggs; omelettes it is."
"You still didn't tell me what you wanted to do today." Jack said.
"We don't want to leave too late, so maybe we just cuddle on the deck and read. Maybe a swim again?"
"We can leave late. I was planning to get you bundled up in the car after evening meds call."
"You need to sleep, too."
"I get weird if I get too much sleep. Let's eat on the deck. You plate up, I'm going to put pants on." Jack said.
"You're always weird, and you're so full of shit." Robby called after Jack.
Jack returned wearing tight shorts.
"I sleep when you sleep." Jack shrugged, sitting down with Robby at the table on the deck.
"Like I'm a baby?"
"No, you've been getting far more sleep than most babies." Jack said.
"I was thinking I might skip my morning quetiapine today." Robby said carefully.
"Okay. We should put it in with your PRNs so it's on us if you want to take it later."
"Ever the pragmatist. Good idea. Thank you."
"For what?" Jack asked, mouth full of omelette.
"Trusting me? Not freaking out at the suggestion of skipping meds?" Robby shook his head; it was obvious to him.
"You're doing well, babe. You have the insight necessary to make a call like that in a safe environment like this. If we were at home, I think there'd be more to discuss, but yeah, we can see how you go. If you're feeling rocky, you'll take it, right?"
"Yeah. It would just be nice to be awake today. I'd like to try, anyway."
"Sounds like a plan. I'll clean this up. You go get comfy." Jack cleared the table.
Robby curled up on the lounge and waited for Jack. Robby savoured the warm sun on his face. Today was going to be a good day, meds or not. Robby considered what to do with the day; it was probably not a good day to stray too far from the cabin just in case he ended up needing to take his meds. The swim yesterday was nice. Robby tried to temper the expectations starting to rise within him. Robby was drawn from his reverie by Jack gently sitting down in his lap, brushing over his heat. Robby wrapped an arm around Jack's back and adjusted to his legs could drape over Robby's thigh.
"Good morning to you, too." Jack smiled. "What were you thinking about?"
"Swimming yesterday." Robby blushed.
"You are so beautiful, especially when you blush for me, Misha." Jack said, stroking Robby's cheek.
Jack held Robby's gaze and slowly leaned in to kiss him. Jack pulled back and admired Robby's deepening blush.
Jack pulled two ring boxes out of his pocket. Robby's heart started racing; it was fast enough to momentarily tear his attention away from the ring boxes. He felt a little silly, they were already engaged. Didn't stop the fluttering in his chest from accelerating wildly.
"I had these made ...a while ago. I've been carrying them since, in case needing them crept up on me. It did and I totally missed it; I was so swept up in it yesterday. Open them." Jack said.
Robby flicked both boxes open to reveal matching elegant, slim platinum pavé rings in each.
"Jack, they're beautiful." Robby stammered.
"These are just the engagement rings. They'll stack with wedding bands which we can pick out at some point."
Robby kissed Jack with overwhelming unbridled desire. Jack pulled back and waggled his ring finger at Robby.
"Feeling a bit naked, here, babe." Jack smiled, tears running down his cheeks.
"Whose is whose?" Robby asked, tears streaming down his cheeks in kind.
"Check the inscriptions." Jack said, pulling Robby's glasses out of another pocket.
Robby laughed. "Thank you."
Robby slipped his glasses on and pulled out one of the rings.
"Property of Michael Robinavitch" Robby read from the ring.
"That one's mine." Jack said, presenting his left hand to Robby.
"Of course it is." Robby laughed. He slid the ring over Jack's finger and kissed him again.
Robby pulled the other ring out and read its inscription. "Property of Jack Abbot, of course I am."
Jack slid the ring over Robby's finger, a perfect fit.
"How did you know my ring size? I don't know my ring size."
"I know those hands as well as I know my own. I might have taken a lot of measurements when you were asleep over the last few months. Being custom made I wanted to be sure."
"You thought of everything. They're so fucking beautiful, Jack, thank you." Robby kissed Jack again before admiring intense sparkling on their fingers. "How did you keep this all secret?"
"We've both been distracted. I needed a project, and finding a jeweller who was cool and had good taste took me a little while. She didn't baulk at me wanting these dainty things in double digit ring sizes. I think we should start with her when we look for wedding bands, she's awesome."
"I can't wait." Robby smiled.
Together they sat hand in hand, cherishing each others' joy. Jack started to fall sleep, but he stopped himself before he did. Robby wanted to be awake today; the least he could do was not fall asleep in his arms, in their safe have, under the warm sun.
"Honey, are you feeling okay?" Jack asked carefully after a few minutes.
"Yeah, I am." Robby looked up at Jack confused.
Jack placed Robby's hand over his heart, which hadn't slowed down at all since Jack pulled out the ring boxes.
"Oh, for fuck's sake." Robby said.
"Deep breaths. I'm going to grab my bag, okay?"
"Okay." Robby sighed.
Jack stood up and strode inside to fetch his bag. Robby sighed, appreciating the way Jack's shorts hugged his ass and thighs. Robby's appreciation was put to a halt when Jack returned, all business. Robby was a little taken aback; he was okay, just a bit too tachycardic for comfort when they were in the middle of nowhere, given his recent history. Maybe Jack going full Doctor Abbot was fine. Best to just let him take control. Robby focused on Jack. Jack pulled out his stethoscope and threw it over his neck. He pulled out a sphygmomanometer, wrapped it around Robby's arm and quickly palpated Robby's diastolic blood pressure.
"B.P. is okay, I'm going to do carotid sinus massage. We just want to slow your heart down a bit, just in case." Jack said in his Doctor Abbot voice.
"Yup." Robby said, trying to relax into the lounge. Robby felt pinned and exposed by Jack's intensity; his laser-like attention not wasted on anything but the task at hand felt at odds with the gentleness of his hands. Robby was well acquainted with the contradiction; after several decades of practice he knew he moved the same ways. It was something else entirely being on the receiving end, especially at the hands of his fiancé.
Jack turned Robby's head and on the right side of Robby's neck palpated to find the strongest pulse, and firmly massaged in circles. He did the same on the left side of Robby's neck and sat next to him and palpated Robby's diastolic blood pressure again.
"You still with me?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, honey. I'm okay." Robby said.
"Dizzy?"
"Yeah, a little."
"Keep breathing." Jack said.
"You can't make me." Robby joked, maybe in an attempt to feel less like a raw exposed nerve under the spotlight of Jack's attention.
"Of course I can. If I couldn't, I'd have to surrender my license to practice, or worse, become a neurologist or something." Jack laughed. "Be quiet."
Jack pulled the stethoscope from around his neck, gently pulled Robby's shirt up and slipped his hand under it. He carefully listened to Robby's heart, which had thankfully slowed down. Robby was fine. Robby felt his skin burning under Jack's tender touch; there was nothing he could do to stop his heart from racing, and no way to hide it when Jack could hear nothing but his breath shuddering and his heart starting to pick up pace again. Robby felt like he was going to pass out when Jack's eyes flicked up to meet his. In some ways, that would be better than feeling utterly eviscerated like this, but with the heat of vulnerability came a strange spark; being laid bare before the love of his life, who was taking care of him, knowing him so intimately, hearing in real time the effect he was having was something Robby didn't even know he wanted. Jack, still frowning, took Robby's blood pressure, normotensive. Jack looped the stethoscope over his neck. For the time being, he could relax back into being Jack instead of Doctor Abbot.
"Maybe I'll wait until your meds have kicked in before trying to be romantic, at least until we get you sorted out." Jack smiled, taking Robby's hand in his. Jack placed his index and middle fingers over Robby's radial pulse as Robby moved to do the same to Jack.
"How often do patients try to give you their numbers?" Robby asked, blushing deeply.
"Too often." Jack shrugged. "Why? Want to compare?"
"Uh, you're, uh, really hot when you're doing your thing?" Robby said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Neither of us are strangers the allure of competence. Babe, you're blushing. A lot." Jack smiled.
"You don't think I know I'm blushing? Holy shit. It's really intense being on the receiving end of said competence rather than spectator or collaborator." Robby stammered.
"I've got you. Let me look after you. Relax, Misha." Jack said, blushing. "Are you going to pass out if I check your blood pressure again?"
"Honestly? Maybe." Robby laughed.
"Deep breaths, babe." Jack said, smiling.
Jack took Robby's blood pressure again. "Hmm, a little higher. Good." Jack smirked.
"I'm okay, Doctor Abbot, probably just some good old fashioned sinus tach, cautiously resolved with vagal manoeuvres, just in case. Jack is welcome back on my lap. Unless you'd rather go for that swim now?" Robby suggested.
"Might be best to take it easy today, babe." Jack said, curling up on Robby's chest.
"Is the book in your bag? I'll read to you until you're convinced I'm not going to die, and we can go float in the lake. Strictly no swimming or heavy petting allowed." Robby said.
"I can work with that." Jack smiled.
"Ready to head down to the lake?" Robby asked.
Jack didn't respond. Robby looked down at his chest, where Jack's head was resting. Jack's eyes were mostly open, his breathing slow and deep. He hadn't fallen asleep, he was somewhere in the infinitesimal in between. Not dissociating, at least not like that, just deeply relaxed.
"Beloved fiancé, let's go swimming." Robby said, brushing his fingers through Jack's hair.
"Hmm, what? Swimming's illegal. We can go float, though. Or we could stay here, like this, forever." Jack mumbled.
"Let's go float."
"Okay," Jack sighed. "How you feeling?"
"I'm fine, honey. You?"
"Extremely comfortable." Jack said.
"We'll get comfortable again, I promise."
Jack slid off Robby's lap and stretched. Robby blushed seeing the cut of Jack's hips as he stretched up. Robby stood up and fetched towels from the linen press, wanting to hide his arousal from Jack; getting hot under the collar constituted getting worked up, which was probably going to concern Jack. He had to smile to himself at the absurdity of trying to hide a burgeoning erection from the man who could practically read his mind, no matter how far apart they were.
Robby and Jack made their way down to the lake, the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees still as breathtaking as the first time he saw it. It was a little overwhelming; after the last five years, especially the last two months, where finding joy or beauty in anything seemed impossible, it was almost too much. Robby quickly stripped and jumped in. The cold water enveloping him completely was a shock, but Robby felt relief as his heart slowed down in response. Thank fuck for the diving reflex.
"Robby, what the fuck?" Jack said, shaking his head and laughing a little.
"What? I thought I'd try it your way for once." Robby said, smiling.
"Scared the shit out me, just disappearing like that." Jack said.
Jack let himself into the water and swam over to Robby.
"It is so beautiful out here." Jack said, staring straight into Robby's eyes.
Robby was starting to feel overwhelmed; Jack's beautiful hazel eyes, so intense. The strange thing Robby felt was the absence of the desire to look away, to hide. It was a far cry from how he'd spent the last five years, two months, three weeks, running like hell from scrutiny, from letting Jack, or anyone, see him. He was a bit of a mess, and Jack risked overreacting, but Robby just took a deep breath and didn't try to hide. For the first time in five years, he didn't shy from it, he didn't surrender begrudgingly because he didn't have the energy to fight it, he just relaxed into it; he let the tears fall freely. He just felt so fucking lucky, to be here, in this beautiful place, with his gorgeous fiancé.
"Misha," Jack sighed, reaching for Robby's hand under the water. "You okay, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I just. It's so beautiful here. You're so beautiful. Just a little overwhelming, you know?" Robby took a deep breath.
"Being alive can be amazing, sometimes, can't it?" Jack said gently, smiling.
"Jury is still out on that." Robby laughed.
"I love seeing you smile." Jack said earnestly, squeezing Robby's hand.
Day 20
Robby sighed awake, back at home, Jack splayed out half on top of him. Robby reached out and took his morning meds, including the quetiapine. It didn't look like Jack was going to be moving any time soon, might as well sleep in with him. Robby closed his eyes and drifted off.
Robby awoke again as Jack rolled over.
"Good morning, sleepy head." Robby sighed.
"Is it morning? What time is it? Shit, have you taken your meds?" Jack mumbled, a little disoriented.
"It is," Robby stretched out to check his watch; "12:30, and yes I did already take my meds. Yes, including the quetiapine."
"Fuck, sorry, honey. You must be starving."
"If I were that desperate, there's probably still a stash of protein bars with the lube. If only I'd remembered that a few hours ago. I didn't want to get up; you need your sleep."
"I'm fine, honey. How you feeling?"
"I'm okay. Tired."
"We had a big weekend, fiancé."
"It's Friday."
"So?" Jack laughed.
"Breakfast. Lunch. Brunch? Food."
"I'm just going to order croissants."
"Good call. By the time we get out of the shower it should just about be here."
Robby kissed Jack's forehead and rolled out of bed. Jack huffed in displeasure at Robby rolling away.
"We're about to spend the whole day glued to each other. Join me or enjoy ten, maybe fifteen minutes of peace and quiet." Robby called over his shoulder.
"I can't be fucked showering." Jack called.
"Then don't!" Robby shouted before stepping under the hot water.
Robby showered and flopped onto the couch next to Jack. Jack was stretched out, as relaxed as he could manage, with his eyes closed.
"You okay, honey? You love showering about as much as you love me." Robby asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine, honey." Jack said warmly.
"That's my line, which you've all but forbidden." Robby said, pursing his lips. "Bad pain day?"
"Not a bad pain day, just a low key, enough to be really fucking annoying pain day."
"I'll be back with your meds. Please don't argue with me, not after your last bad pain day where you refused all medication." Robby said. Between not having a shower and the sheen of sweat, Jack was almost certainly in more pain than he was willing to admit.
"I pushed through then, and I can push through now. One of us needs to be able to drive." Jack said, rolling his head to levy an expression practically daring Robby to argue. Robby felt a white hot flash of shame; Jack's last bad pain day was was spent dragging him to see the psychologist and psychiatrist.
"We can just do telehealth, honey. Even if you were willing to let me drive, you look wrecked. Be right back."
Robby fetched Jack's pain medication and a glass of water. He sat back down next to Jack whose expression had not changed.
"Babe, I don't need them."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not being ridiculous. I'm in pain, I'm not going to croak."
"You are being ridiculous."
"I'm not going to take the meds."
"Why the fuck not?" Robby asked impatiently.
Jack's expression softened, but turned to hint of pity. "Misha, if I take those pills, I'm going to be rendered inert. I can't do that right now. I need to be awake." Jack said carefully and squeezed Robby's hand. Robby turned away; another wave of searing shame hit him. Jack still didn't trust him.
"Misha, I just want to be with you if you struggle today. I can't do that if I take all that." Jack said warmly.
"I'm fucking fine. Seriously. Have I not shown you that? Have I not proven myself trustworthy? You're not fine. You don't need to martyr yourself, not this time." Robby's shame gave way to a streak of indignant anger.
"Misha, I do trust you. I'm not fucking martyring myself; there's no need to be dramatic." Jack said gently. "We had a big weekend. A really big, extremely happy weekend—no, I still don't care what day it is—and you're probably scheduled for a bit of a shitty day sometime soon. If it's today, and if it's a really big shitty day, we are both totally fucked if I'm unable to move. I can't look after us if I'm unconscious."
"Is having a nice couple of days going to give me post-MDMA comedown, now? First I've fucking heard of it." Robby said incredulously.
"Yeah, actually, it can be exactly like that when you're recovering. Honey, you were radiant, the happiest I've seen you in years. It's normal to crash out a bit, be all dysregulated like you are now, coming back to the real world. We're fucking exhausted and you're picking a fight with me about taking pain meds."
"Yeah, because I can't fucking stand seeing you in pain, especially for no fucking reason."
"Try again. You're upset. Tell me about it." Jack said patiently.
"I'm angry." Robby said plainly.
"Okay, good start. Why?" Jack said.
"Why? You're in pain and you're refusing to take your fucking meds."
"I got that part. Keep going."
"You don't feel safe? You don't fucking trust me? After everything?"
"Come here." Jack patted his thigh.
"I don't want to. I'm angry."
"Do it anyway." Jack shrugged.
"You are so fucking annoying." Robby sat on Jack's lap, easing himself down gently.
Jack wrapped his arms around Robby.
"Babe. I'm fine. You're fine. You good?"
"I'd be better if you weren't in so much pain."
"It's not about me."
"It kind of is."
"No, it isn't." Jack said slowly.
"Please, tell me how I'm feeling." Robby said sarcastically.
"Here's my read. You're hangry. My last bad pain day was a really traumatic day for you, you do hate seeing me in pain but you feel guilty about me not taking pain meds but you also resent me a little about it because you're fine and don't need to be looked after. You also hate talking about your feelings so you're cranky about that, too."
"You left off the bit where I'm cranky about you being right." Robby mumbled, the wind taken out of his sails.
"Didn't want to rub it in your face too much. That would be rude."
"You're sweaty. Your heart is racing. Will you at least take some pain meds?"
"Yes. I still need to be upright so I'll take these." Jack said, swallowing some of the medications Robby had brought out. "You can put the rest back, please."
Robby went back to the bedroom.
"Brunch just arrived." Jack called.
Robby picked it up from the front door and met Jack back on the couch. Robby ate quickly and didn't protest the second croissant Jack pressed in his hand. Robby relaxed back into the couch after eating. If he could have mustered the energy, he'd have been mad at Jack, he was right.
"Feeling better now?" Jack asked.
"Hangry is a bullshit emotion. The rest of them seem a lot more manageable now. How's your pain?"
"A bit better."
"If you took the full amount you'd be a lot better."
"Misha,"
"We can spoon until 3?"
"Perfect."
Robby
"Gloria told me to step up or step aside after rubbing Adamson's death in my face—no way in hell I am getting into that now, maybe not ever. That was the morning of fucking PittFest. Not getting into that, either. Oh, fuck. Well, stepping aside is sounding more and more appealing. The more Jack talks about choice the more I realise we need to make one."
"Jack and I are engaged. We talked about our options for the future at the cabin. We decided not to decide anything—bar becoming officially engaged, which I kind of pushed him into—but I don't know, I was excited thinking about my future. I don't know know how to get from here to there, or whatever there is, but I want to find out. I'm fucking terrified of it."
"I cannot talk about Adamson. I can't talk about PittFest. I can't do it. I don't know if I'll ever be able to talk about it."
"Jack, it's your turn." Robby called.
"No, I'm not doing a session today." Jack said as Robby sat down next to him.
"I know I'm considered the higher suicide risk, but do I need to be worried?"
"No, I'm just not in the head space. I'm okay, honey, really. Lie down so I can lie on top of you?"
"Just give me a minute. We can both be drugged out on the couch together." Robby said, his hands shaking a little as he flipped open his PRNs pill box. Robby swallowed a diazepam and downed a glass of water.
Robby flopped onto the couch and pulled Jack on top of him. Jack pushed himself up off Robby a little to look at him.
"Tough session?" Jack asked, his brow furrowed.
"Accidentally said trigger words Adamson and PittFest. If I had been in face to face I'd have fallen apart completely trying to avoid talking about it. He wanted to push me a little, which, you know, is fine."
"It gets easier." Jack kissed Robby's cheek and settled on his chest.
"I have a feeling it's going to get harder first." Robby mumbled.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Yes. No. Maybe? Head is noisy."
"Breathe first, honey. It will get a bit harder. A lot harder. Now's the time to do it."
"If I start getting into it with Daniel I'm going to have to be so sedated I can't sit up."
"We can make that happen." Jack said nonchalantly.
"Is that going to be productive?"
"Better than never talking about it at all."
"It might kill me if I start talking about it."
"It is killing you not talking about it. You want to stop being an active suicide risk? You want to feel like you did yesterday more often than not? Want to enjoy time alone again without me watching your every move because I'm so fucking afraid I'm going to lose you if I let you out of my sight? We'll do some good old fashioned polypharmacy, from the comfort of home, and I'll be right there the whole time."
"That's insane."
"Is it?"
"Yes?"
"How? You're backing out because it's a real option on the table."
"You're the one always telling me I can't just speed run having a fucking breakdown."
"This isn't speed running; if you were in hospital you'd have been sedated to the edge of oblivion to start with. At least we can keep you medically supervised, in the safety of your own home, and we'd be doing it with your consent. Honey, take a deep breath. Do you need me to move?"
"Don't move. Please. I can't breathe without you."
"Tell Daniel what happened. You don't even have to talk about your feelings about it, just tell him the things that happened. You want to be sedated out of your gourd? You got it. You can stop talking about it at any time. We can knock you out at any time. Would that make you feel safe? Safe enough to try? I can feel how scared you are; I am right on top of you."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Always. Some choices are just the wrong fucking ones."
"You know what I've been saying to myself the last three weeks when something upset me? Fuck it. It's either do it scared or lose you or just fucking die. Preference generally sitting with the latter. Running seemed to be off the table."
"All of those were off the table except for doing it scared. How has it turned out?"
"Well, I take the stupid fucking antipsychotics I hate, don't I? They make me feel like I'm drowning. It's gotten me further away from the feelings I don't want to have. Paradoxically, it has allowed me to get closer to them. I don't know. Fuck it, let's fucking sedate me to the edge of oblivion. We'd be struck off for doing this at work."
"No, we wouldn't. We probably won't need to stray beyond Doctor Finch's prescribed dosages, babe."
"Are we really going to do this?"
"Yeah. Relax. I've got you. Breathe, Misha."
"Fuck it. Fine. Fuck it. Worst thing that can happen is that I say some dumb shit, cry, and nap. I do all that sober anyway."
"Yes you do, my love." Jack kissed Robby's chest.
"Don't let me change my mind." Robby whispered.
Day 21
"Just look at the monitor, baby. Keep that number under 110 for me." Jack whispered in Robby's ear.
Robby felt like his whole body was vibrating. He was sitting on the edge of their bed with Jack tending to him; they had half an hour before Robby's appointment. "Is this all really necessary?"
"With the state you've been in, yes. You'll be thanking me for the IV, trust me. Heart rate under 110, please. Breathe."
"110 is generous. I'm going to need the meds to kick in first."
"Shouldn't be long, now."
"Why the fuck did I agree to this?"
"You suggested it."
"Nobody should listen to me, I'm nuts."
"You and me both, sweetheart. If you don't start breathing, I am going to do it for you."
"Threatening me is only going to get my dick hard."
"You can't distract me with sex talk. I know you're nervous. Breathe, Michael. Lie back." Jack said. He gently guided Robby down on the bed.
Jack started massaging Robby's head and whispering sweet nothings. Robby felt the tension working its way out of him.
"Honey, it's time. Sit up slowly. Are we transferring you to the chair or are staying here?"
"Chair? I don't need a chair."
"I meant the office chair, my love. Probably best to sit you up here. How you feeling?"
"You tell me."
"Heart rate is down, good work, honey. Up gently, come on."
Robby started to sit up. Jack hefted Robby back onto the bed before he could tip himself over. Jack's arms were so warm it felt like a betrayal when they disappeared.
"I'm coming back." Jack said. He repositioned the laptop and wiggled in behind Robby, who was sitting at the head of the bed. "Better?"
"Yes."
"Okay, you ready?"
"No fucking way. Let's go."
The laptop rang with the incoming call. Jack noticed the spike in Robby's heart rate. "Breathe, baby. Daniel knows what the plan is. Just start talking and don't fucking stop, okay?"
Robby and Jack
"I don't know where to start."
"Adamson. Start there."
"Adamson went down. I was already falling apart; we all were. I was a bigger mess than anyone. It was intolerable. I was failing. The person I needed went down hard. He was on a vent. Then it wasn't enough. Oh, fuck, I can't—"
"We put him on ECMO. I—I can't do this. Jack. Please. I—"
"He was on ECMO for seventeen days. Misha, you've got this."
"It wasn't enough. He wasn't improving at all. We were fucking buried. We were buried by the dead and fucking dying. I ended up being the de facto acting fucking chief when the only person who should have been doing it was dying in front of me. I fucking killed him. I wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. I—. I fucking killed him. I held his hand through layers of fucking plastic as I killed him. I—"
"I'm pissed off the girl died. We lost them fucking both and for what? What was the point of any of it? I killed him. I stepped over his still warm body and ended up with the top job. I killed him."
"The stupid fucking cartoon fucking animals and a dead girl. I can never forgive them. I hate myself. It should have been me. I want it to be me. Everyone else was fucking fine. I was falling apart, blaming the closest thing I had to a father and a literal fucking child, and everyone else was just fucking okay? Coping? Showing up to work 30 hour shifts. The fucking med students were coping so much better than me. They're basically children themselves. I hated them for it. How the fuck could I lead anyone in an impossible situation? The only guy that could do it died. By my hand. It didn't fucking stop."
"I was made chief and everyone was acting like it was something I earned. I killed a man. I should have turned it down. If I hadn't been in nuclear fucking meltdown 24/7 I would have fucking run. I should have fucking run. That would have been the smart thing to do."
"On the day of PittFest everyone kept fucking asking me if I was okay. Of course I fucking wasn't. It was the anniversary of me killing Adamson. I thought by showing up people would stop fucking looking at me like I was broken. I wanted them to stop asking if I was okay. Everyone was having a bad fucking day, Jack included. God, I feel like such a stupid selfish fucking prick. The fucking med students and new residents looking to me like I could save them from the fucking onslaught of death and violence and trauma was too fucking much and that was long before the shooting, before any real shit started going down. They were so full of hope, and I just made it all worse. I had a lot of panic attacks that day before PittFest started."
"My star resident is a fucking addict and didn't come to me for help before he started committing felonies right under my fucking nose. I don't blame him. I can't even help myself, as he and everyone keeps fucking reminding me. An intern who had been there for a few hours was the one that spotted Langdon. Fuck me. We had a little girl who drowned saving her sister. A nice kid who did drugs once and ended up brain dead from a fentanyl overdose. A man whose children weren't ready to let him go made me intubate him, against his clearly stipulated wishes. Dana put him in paeds with the stupid fucking cartoon animals to extubate him, to let him die. At some point the screaming and crying just blends in; I'm numb to it. Sometimes I'm not sure if someone is screaming or if it's just a memory. It doesn't make a difference either way; I can't feel it. It's the worst day of someone's life and it's just ...Tuesday morning. Sometimes, I can't always tell why, it breaks through and I can't feel anything else, can't hear anything else but the screaming. Dana was assaulted. My ex and also subordinate had a fucking miscarriage while on shift, after which she told me I got her pregnant when we were together and she had an abortion and I will never forgive myself for not being there for her. She went through that alone instead of asking me to support her. I would have. I should have. I am so fucking despicable that she didn't ask me for help. I don't know why she told me that day. She finally went home, I told her to turn her phone off and for once she listened to me so she wasn't there to help when some piece of shit started shooting people at the music festival where Jake and Leah were. Where I should have been. Instead, I got to kill Leah, too."
"PittFest was chaos. I couldn't have done it without Jack, who shouldn't have been listening to the fucking police scanner. Fresh med students, new residents. A few people down. People started piling in. Everyone worked so beautifully. They didn't need me as leader, and thank fuck because I failed them."
"I heard Jake's voice. He was in the back of a truck with his girlfriend. I'd met her briefly via video call where she thanked me for the ticket to the event where she got shot. Jake was okay. He tried to put pressure on Leah's wound. Jack was right; she was already fucking dead. Jake kept begging me to help her, to save her. He told me it's what I do. I let her die. I let others come to harm by pouring resources into saving her when I knew she was already dead. I thought I got her back and called Walsh over to take her up to surgery. The weirdest fucking things trip me up. Pulling out a SonoSite to check a doppler pulse takes me back to standing over Leah, testing the thing on myself, hearing my own fucking pulse, and then nothing on Leah, because she was dead. Why is my heart still beating and not hers? It should have been me at the festival that day. It should have been me. Me getting shot instead of her would have done us all a favour. It probably would have been less traumatising to Jake than what I did to him."
"Leah died. She fucking died and it should have been me. I had to tell Jake his girlfriend was dead. He insisted I show him her body. I did. I shouldn't have. I traumatised him even more. Do you know what I hate myself for most, though? Beyond letting her die? I told Jake I would remember long after he'd forgotten her. I threw him out of the makeshift morgue, the paeds room with the stupid fucking cartoon animals, and had a total fucking meltdown. I broke. I totally broke. When everyone needed me most, I took the luxury of crying over a horrible fucking thing I'd just done to someone who is my family. Was. He still won't talk to me. I made it all so much fucking worse."
"A fucking med student pulled me off the floor. In paeds, after I told Jake words that he will never forget after I showed him to the corpse that should have been me. Total meltdown. One of the night shift nurses apparently saw me—"
"She's been dealt with."
"—per Langdon who rubbed it in my face."
"Jack found me on the roof. In his spot. I was ready to die. I still fucking am."
"I used to be reliable. I used to be proud of how I carried myself, for the most part. I used to be proud of my teaching. My personal life has always been a fucking mess but I was a good sort-of stepdad to Jake. Former students still send me thanks or reference me in the footnotes when they publish. I don't know who that guy was. He's gone. I am whatever is left over and I'd rather die than be this."
"How about your residency, Misha?"
"I was at Charity in New Orleans during Katrina. That shit I dealt with long ago, except for the fact there's no real way to deal with that. With any of this. I've been running from shit my whole fucking life. I don't even know what to say about Katrina. It feels like a lifetime ago."
"Jack, I'm done."
"How about the night you went down. Three weeks ago."
"I don't fucking eat, I don't sleep, I drink too much coffee, I get more nicotine through gum than I ever did from smoking. Fuck me, I need a cigarette. I'd been running myself into the ground, okay? Whatever. You want to hear about that? No. I'd kind of hoped I'd just drop and not wake up. I thought it'd take more than two months for me to keel over. I went down at work. I can't even do that properly. Stupid. I'd even fucking eaten that day. I can't even do that right. I woke up after, feeling like shit, Jack standing over me, all warm and caring and protective, and it was unbearable. I don't need to be taken care of. It was all good and fine and lovely until they insisted I fucking stay. I don't know, I finally fucking cracked. I felt trapped. I broke. I wanted to die but I did not want to die there. I don't know what else there is to say."
"I'm done. I can't—, I—"
"You've done so well, Misha. I'm so proud of you." Jack whispered. Jack pushed the IV diazepam and held on to Robby tightly until he went limp.
Jack shifted Robby a bit closer to the centre of the bed. Robby's face was a mess; the screaming and crying and lip biting had left their marks. He'd hardly stopped the whole hour. Jack ached with pride and anguish. Exorcising those demons, at least starting, was the thing Robby had run from hardest. Jack fetched a wash cloth and a bowl of warm soapy water and gently washed Robby's face. He worked his way down, reverently taking in every detail of Robby's body. Jack cleaned himself up a little, grabbed a couple of ensures and a protein bar and placed them on Robby's side table. They'd be right there when he woke up, if Jack fell asleep in the mean time. Jack set an alarm for Robby's evening meds call and curled up next to him and read.
Robby stirred under Jack. It wasn't late, but the sun was going down. Jack took a steadying breath, wanting to feel centred to be there for Robby.
"Hey, Misha, how you feeling?"
"I'm okay?" Robby mumbled, still pretty snowed.
"Yeah, you are. You hungry?"
"No. Yes. Maybe? Going to have to fucking eat something anyway."
"I've got you covered. We can do proper food, or, here's two ensures and as many protein bars as you can bear, dinner of champions. Think you can manage that?"
"Yeah, honey, thank you." Robby sat up.
Jack leaned up against Robby's side, trying to osmose some love into Robby.
"How are you feeling?" Robby asked.
"I'm afraid if I gush about how proud I am I'll overwhelm you." Jack smiled.
"You can't overwhelm me when I'm this medicated." Robby shrugged.
"I probably could. I'm very proud." Jack said warmly.
"You're not scared? Angry?"
"I'm a little worried you're going to feel ...unsettled after today. You might wake up tomorrow and feel amazing, or you might need a week maxed out on your PRNs. Maybe a bit of both. You were worried about setbacks and I don't want this to feel like one for you. You've been so brave. That's all I'm scared about. I'm so proud of you. No clue what I could be angry about."
"All of it. I don't know."
"I'm not angry at you, sweetheart."
"Maybe you should be."
"Nope. You can't push me away. I know it's uncomfortable, but I'm not going anywhere. You can't run. You can't make me run. You did the hardest thing. Acknowledge your feelings pushing you to sabotage, and then kindly ask them to fuck off."
"Kindly ask them to fuck off?"
"Like acknowledging a monitor alarm. Flick it off, and let yourself ignore the stupid thing still flashing at you. Fuck it off." Jack shrugged.
"Your brain is a weird place."
"So is yours. Your self loathing is spinning you out, acknowledge it, and ignore it trying to get your attention. Try it. Seriously, don't run from it, don't argue with it, just notice it, sit with it, hear it, and let it in for just a second, and then ignore it. It probably sounds stupid but just try it."
"All right," Robby closed his eyes and frowned. Thinking too hard, of course. "Huh."
"Better?" Jack asked curiously.
"It's a little further in the background, I guess? Weird."
"Sometimes when my brain tries to make me feel like I'm trapped in here with it, I like to remind it that it is actually trapped in here with me. Sometimes the head noise can stop screaming once it gets your attention."
"Sounds hostile."
"Sometimes it absolutely is. Sometimes I feel like Marie Kondo." Jack laughed.
"Teach me all your tricks."
"Daniel will. Have patience, young padawan."
"You still don't like Star Wars."
"The first one's a masterpiece. Have you eaten enough? Can I get you anything?"
"I'm okay, you've already given me everything. Thank you."
"Do you want to get up for a bit or is it bed time?"
"Bed time, I'm exhausted."
Day 22
Robby gasped awake, Jack's limbs tangled with his.
"Morning, sweetheart." Jack said.
"Morning," Robby stammered, still startled.
"You good, babe?"
"Yeah. Just woke up a bit wonky? I'm fine, really. Just suddenly awake. Hungry."
"Want to go for a walk to find something?"
"Might be more of a shuffle than a walk, but sure, that would be lovely. You going to shower with me? We're both smelling a little ripe."
"We smell lived in." Jack shrugged.
"Yeah, too lived in. Come on."
"Let me get you unhooked first."
Jack sat up and kissed Robby.
"Morning breath," they said in unison before laughing.
Jack removed the electrodes from Robby's chest and gently pulled out his IV. "I'll tape that up after we shower."
Jack sat on the bench in the shower, and waited for Robby who was loading their toothbrushes with toothpaste. Robby turned the water on and sat next to Jack.
"Terminal case of the can't be fuckeds?" Jack asked.
"Something like that."
Jack and Robby brushed their teeth under the glorious column of water. Robby put their toothbrushes back on the vanity and stepped back into the water.
"Want me to wash your hair? You get all wonky when it feels wrong." Robby asked Jack.
"That would be lovely, thank you." Jack sighed. He leaned in to Robby who stood over him, carefully working the shampoo into Jack's curls. Jack let out a sigh when Robby tipped his head back to wash it out before continuing with his conditioner, and rinsing it out.
"Okay, honey, I'm going to wash your back." Robby said gently. Jack just grunted in reply.
"You want me to keep going?"
"No, thank you. That was lovely. I'll finish up, you get started on you."
Robby kissed the top of Jack's head and handed him his body wash. Jack carefully watched Robby, hoping to divine his state of mind.
"Jack, I can feel you staring at me." Robby lilted.
"Just appreciating the view, babe."
"Doesn't feel like it. I'm okay, I'm not going to ooze to death."
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay. Hungry. How are you feeling?" Robby smiled.
"I'm good. I'm hungry, too. I'm looking forward to going for a walk."
"Me, too. You just about done?"
"Yep."
Jack met Robby at the door, backpack packed, comfy clothes on, IV site gauzed and taped, morning meds taken. Ready to go.
"Where are we heading?" Robby asked, pulling the door shut behind him.
"I hadn't thought that far, to be perfectly honest." Jack laughed.
"You don't make half plans. You're either planning in two minute increments or flying by the seat of your pants and refusing to think any more than two minutes ahead."
"Maybe I'm trying something new. Are you complaining?"
"No. Too hungry to complain." Robby pouted.
"Then stop complaining and pick somewhere." Jack said.
"Let's head towards the river and see where we end up."
"You got it, boss."
Jack took Robby's hand and they slowly made their way through the streets. Jack couldn't remember the last time they'd headed out somewhat aimlessly. It was a nice change from the usual demands of their lives, just like being at the cabin, but there was a certain magic to being in the city they loved.
"How about here?" Robby asked, pulling Jack out of his reverie. They were standing outside at a relatively unassuming cafe.
"Sure thing, honey. Inside or outside? It's getting colder."
"Outside."
Robby and Jack were ready to order about as soon as they'd been handed menus. It wasn't long before their food was in front of them.
"I am so fucking hungry. If I stay on mirtazapine, I'm going to get really fat." Robby said.
"So you get really fat. More of you to love. Fat and happy sounds incredible." Jack smiled.
"Nobody said anything about being happy."
"I did. You can be fat and miserable if you really want. How are you feeling about the mirtazapine?"
"Sleep is good. Not sure how much benefit being hangry all the time is having to my mental health. I'll have to reserve judgement as to its efficacy at making me less miserable; it's only been three weeks."
"You're willing to consider staying on it longer term?" Jack asked hopefully.
"For now. I've been thinking about amitriptyline, if I'm going to stay medicated longer term. I can't be this hangry all the time if I go back to work. I'm not interested at all in SSRIs, but you know that."
"If we go back." Jack smiled. "I'm not thrilled at the idea of having tricyclics in the house for the time being. QT prolongation is something to think about, too. You're not worried about the cheese dreams?"
"Cheese dreams? I love you, you weirdo." Robby threw his head back in laughter. "Yeah, the vivid non-cheese dreams could be a problem, but I don't know, maybe it'd be fine. If you wanted to lock them up and babysit me while I fill my pill box, I could live with that. Even if I don't go back to work, the hangriness is so annoying. I promise I'll get fat no matter if or what meds I'm on."
"You sure know how to make a guy smile." Jack said, reaching for Robby's hand.
"It's what I'm here for."
"Amongst other things."
"Like what?"
"I'm pretty sure you could get out of just about anything with your big, beautiful, sad, brown eyes. That's handy. Hey, do you think mirtazapine would be considered a performance enhancing drug in competitive eating?"
"My eyes are not sad. You're the one that watches The Ocho. How do you not already know that?"
"It didn't occur to me until now that I didn't know the rules of competitive eating. They are sad; you could be an ASPCA ad sad. Nobody can say no to that face, babe."
"You can."
"I sometimes have to go cry about it after, though."
"Sure you do." Robby laughed, shaking his head. "Dana said something to me when we were leaving after ...our last shift and I don't understand it."
"What did she say?" Jack asked.
"She said I had no idea how others saw me. After saying the kids would ...love to see me topless. The topless bit was a joke, and I rebuffed it and then she said I had no idea how others see me. You're biased," Robby waggled his left ring finger, the light sparkling off the ring just about blinding them both; "but what the fuck did she mean by that?"
Jack tilted his head and pursed his lips as though he was trying to find the words.
"First off, the kids know you're a hot piece of ass and they absolutely do want to see you topless—don't interrupt me. Everyone sees you like everyone saw Adamson, you know, incredible titan whose name will echo the halls of that place long after we're all dead and gone. Your doting over the kids, especially the ones who would be eaten alive in other programs, too; you love a project. Being hot and being a rightful legend would be enough, but the big sad puppy dog eyes, aching kindness, tortured soul, it's a whole vibe. You're beautiful, inside and out."
"People are just intimidated because I'm tall, bossy, competent, and kind of a dick. I am still caught up on the kids thinking I'm hot. Have you seen how hot our colleagues are? Babe, I'm bottom of that totem pole."
"Not even close. You are a hot mess. Extremely hot and extremely messy."
"How could I possibly look hot when I'm standing next to you?"
"I'm the hot old man on night shift, you're the hot old man on day shift. We've got them covered twenty four hours a day, babe."
Both Jack and Robby burst out laughing.
"If you don't believe me, I'll show you. I'll show you how I see you." Jack purred and squeezed Robby's hand. Robby blushed scarlet, extending down his neck and surely blooming across his chest.
"Hey, Jack, we need to go. Like, right now." Robby said.
"Okay, give me one second to settle the bill and we'll head off. You okay?"
"Yeah," Robby said tensely.
"What's going on, honey?"
"I will explain, but we need to go right now."
"Copy." Jack moved quickly.
Robby's vision narrowed; he wasn't expecting to see Jake. Of all the people Robby had been worried about running into, it didn't occur to him at all to be worried about running into Jake. He was far enough away that if Robby stopped fucking staring at him, maybe Jake wouldn't notice. He looked good. Healthy. Older, somehow; more than the, shit, three months since they'd last spoken. It was going to happen some time. Robby just didn't think it would be in the middle of his ...impromptu sabbatical. Robby suddenly felt self conscious; he didn't want Jake to see him at all, but despite having a relatively Good Day, Robby knew he was dishevelled, to put it politely, and Robby couldn't stomach Jake seeing him like that. He really needed to stop fucking staring. The heavy weight of Jack's hand on his shoulder pulled his attention.
"I see him. You don't want to say hi?" Jack asked, stepping into Robby's line of sight.
"I don't want to upset him." Robby whispered.
"Maybe I can say hi? Ask him how he's doing?"
"Please don't. I just want to go."
"Let's go, then." Jack practically pulled Robby upright. "If you fall over or start trying to run, you'll draw attention. He looks good, babe. He's okay." Jack smiled up at Robby, which took his breath away. "Come on."
Jack led him away carefully. Robby was floating, a few inches above his head, the ringing in his ears was deafening, and the quetiapine and the remainder of yesterday's sedation wasn't exactly helping with coordination. Robby could have been falling down a set of stairs or floating in zero gravity and would have been unable to tell the difference. Jack gripped Robby's forearm hard.
"Michael, sit down. You're going to fall over." Jack said as he gently led Robby to a bench. They'd put a little bit of distance between him and Jake; hopefully it would be enough. Jack stepped between Robby's legs and pulled his head into his chest and curled around him. "Breathe with me. You're okay." Jack kept a steady stream of gentle words which all blended together. The noise in his head and the ringing in his ears was being overtaken by the sound of Jack's voice and his heartbeat.
Jack reached in to Robby's backpack and pulled out his PRNs. "Diazepam? We can get a ride home." Robby accepted the pill and the water bottle Jack handed him. Jack put everything back in the backpack and wrapped himself around Robby again. He stayed there until Robby's breath came easier.
"Good work. You okay? We can just sit for a minute?" Jack asked.
"I'm okay. Fucking hell." Robby said. His hands were shaking.
"Tell me what you're thinking." Jack said, leaning into Robby and wrapping an arm around Robby's waist.
"It didn't even occur to me that I might run into him. Just surprised me. Running into colleagues or friends being this big a mess would have sucked but Jake seeing me like this? No fucking way." Robby rasped.
"You're fine, honey. You don't look look much worse for wear than usual, minus the drug induced sea legs."
"You're full of shit." Robby groaned.
"Okay, the vibrating like a chihuahua in a handbag isn't instilling confidence."
"I might puke if you make me laugh."
"We'd have to have second breakfast."
"I'll puke on you."
"Oh, no, bodily fluids, how could I ever cope? I'd know the provenance of these ones; that would be a nice change."
"You truly have a way with words." Robby laughed.
"Diazepam working its magic yet?"
"Starting to, thank fuck." Robby said. He leaned more heavily into Jack. "I want to go back to the cabin."
"We'll go soon."
"How soon? I'm okay. I told Daniel a bunch of the big shit and haven't walked into traffic. Why wait?"
"You are okay, you're doing so well. We've still got a ways to go. It's been less than twenty four hours since that. You haven't walked into traffic yet."
"You're so mean to me."
"Someone has to be. Someone that isn't you."
"I'm better at it than you are."
"Therein lies the problem. You ready to head home?"
"Yeah. I'm fine to walk, I think."
"Sounds good." Jack stood up and wrapped Robby's arm over his shoulder and looped his around Robby's waist, tucking his thumb into Robby's pants. Robby and Jack walked arm in arm along the river, the breeze over the water cooling their faces and the sun warming their backs. Robby considered himself lucky that the weather had been temperate; having a breakdown in a colder city at this time of year might have been the last fucking straw.
"Robby?" A cautious voice behind them said. Some quick footsteps came to a stop just behind them. Robby's heart started racing; his breath caught. Robby turned around to greet Jake. Robby's brows furrowed in disbelief; Jake was seeking him out.
"Jake, hey," Robby said, barely resisting the urge to pull Jake in and never let go. Jake closed the distance between them and pulled Robby into a tight hug. Robby was praying the flood of emotions flooding him wouldn't explode out of him. He held on to Jake like it was the last time he'd ever get to.
"Jake, it's so good to see you, you look great." Robby said sincerely, but attempting to turn the attention away from himself. Mentioning the last time they'd seen each other was not exactly on the table.
"It's good to see you, too, man. Are you okay?" Jake asked.
Jake's expression was kind, curious, like he recognised Robby beyond just the formerly infallible father figure he saw Robby as. Robby watched the last remnant of Jake's childhood deification fracture; not the grief of my girlfriend is dead and I will never be the same from three months ago, but the perception of Robby as the imperfect man he actually was.
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm so happy to see you." Robby cringed at his own lie that he knew Jake saw straight through. Jake saw he wasn't fucking good.
"Robby, you look like shit." Jake said. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologise for." The enormity of Robby's sentiment was obvious. "I'm okay."
"Oh, shit, Jack, did you finally propose?" Jake asked, calling Jack over; Jack had given them space.
"Yeah. Well, he kind of beat me to it. He said we should consider ourselves engaged because we'd been talking about it for so long." Jack smiled.
"I mean, is he wrong?" Jake laughed.
"No," Jack conceded; "I forgot the rings until the next day. I was a mess. It was perfect."
"Sounds like it. It's so you, both of you. Congratulations." Jake smiled.
"Thanks," Robby and Jack said in unison.
"Set a date?" Jake asked.
"No, we got engaged three days ago; haven't even started thinking about planning yet."
Jake turned at the sound of one of his friends calling to him. "I've got to go, my friends are going to leave without me. Basketball some time?"
"Yeah, I miss it. Let me know when." Robby said.
"Me, too. I'll see you later." Jake waved and jogged off to meet his friends.
Robby watched Jake go. Jack pressed himself up against Robby, grounding him.
"Misha, honey, breathe out."
"I'm okay." Robby couldn't move; it was finally safe, somewhat, to let go of the grief, rage, fear, love, and panic breaking through his medicated haze now that Jake was gone. He didn't want to fall apart in public, and trying to dissociate wasn't really working.
"I know. You still need to breathe." Jack stepped into Robby's arms and pulled him in tight, hands spread broad across Robby's back. "You're just short circuiting a bit, honey. You're fine. We'll stand here for a minute."
Robby tried to focus on the feel of Jack in his arms. Jack's hands pressing across his back, his own heart beating against Jack, the sound of his voice. Robby took a deep breath, deep enough to make him dizzy.
"There we go, I've got you." Jack said.
Robby leaned more heavily into Jack, and took another deep breath. "Am I ever going to stop being so fucking overwhelmed?" Robby asked desperately.
"Yes. Absolutely yes. I promise."
"You very rarely promise."
"As long as you're breathing, I promise you, it won't be like this forever." Jack said fiercely. "Trust me."
"I do." Robby gasped.
"Let's get you home."
"Let's go to bed for a little bit." Jack beckoned; "I want to cuddle."
"You always want to cuddle." Robby said, closing the front door behind him. Jack had folded him into an uber and sat on him the whole way home.
"You don't usually complain."
"I'm not complaining." Robby followed Jack into their bedroom. Jack was taking his leg off; he meant business. Robby took his hoodie off.
"Shirt, too. Lie down."
"Okay," Robby said, raising his eyebrows. He did as Jack asked. Jack took his top off and climbed over Robby. He lowered himself gently onto Robby and tucked his head into Robby's neck. When Jack's skin touched Robby's it was like the blast of heat of walking into a sauna.
"You're cold, I'm not pyrexic."
"I can't even have thoughts to myself." Robby sighed.
"I didn't even have to try to read that one, babe." Jack murmured into his neck. "Relax."
"I am relaxed."
"I've lain on softer weights benches. You're still shaking. You want another diazepam?"
"Maybe. Give me a minute."
"Take all the time you want. What are you feeling?"
"I don't fucking know, fucking everything."
"You'll come down."
"Not helping."
"Okay, what are you afraid of?"
"Freaking the fuck out. At least whatever this bullshit is, I'm not, I don't know."
"On a roof? Elbow deep in a knife drawer?" Jack said neutrally.
"Something like that. Yeah, I know, you'll keep me safe. I know that. However, my stupid fucking nervous system is not taking comments at this time."
"It is, just in the form of deep pressure and some good old fashioned skin-to-skin. Heart rate's down already."
Robby felt a stab of petulant anger much like he'd felt when they were trying to admit him for monitoring. Feeling surveilled, even though he was already well aware how much attention Jack was paying to him, was intolerable. He had to resist the urge to throw Jack off and run. Apparently Jack heard that thought, too.
"Sorry. I didn't mean—I'll shut the fuck for a bit." Jack said.
"I've heard that before."
"Mmhmm." Jack intoned sarcastically.
Robby couldn't help but smile. He'd finally found a way to stop Jack yapping. It was enough of a distraction to let Robby shift his attention. Same routine as always, focus on Jack. Focus on the sensory input from Jack. Let the stupid head noise and the bullshit going on in his body ...exist. Wait it out. Focus on Jack.
Robby was awoken by Jack's phone ringing.
"Oh, shit, yeah, we're here. Sorry, had a bit of a day and fell asleep. Babe, it's Daniel, it's 1500."
"Fuck, sorry, um—" Robby stammered.
"Don't move. Just stay here, he's on the phone. Want me to leave or get ear muffs?"
"Stay."
Robby
"Sorry, yeah, had a bit of a day and fell asleep with Jack. He's still on top of me."
"We had a really nice morning, uh, I'm okay. I saw Jake. I panicked? I didn't want him to see us. We haven't talked at all since PittFest. We left. We'd have—oh, fuck—We'd have made it a lot further if I hadn't freaked the fuck out at the worst possible moment. He—Jake sought me out. He told me I looked like shit. He's right. He sought us out. We're going to play basketball."
"We've been here for a few hours. I've been in panic mode or something and it hasn't gone away since then. Even waking up now. I'm waiting for the come down but it hasn't hit. That's what PittFest felt like. Jack talked me down off the roof. It's like being stuck between gears at 100 miles an hour. I don't know."
"Haven't really thought about yesterday. Woke up feeling weird but kind of okay, had a lovely walk and breakfast, and then panic that won't burn out or fucking stop. I can't keep feeling like this."
Jack
"Yeah, nightmares, same shit. It's fine."
"Robby, honey? He's asleep. He took another diazepam a not too long ago. He's stuck and I don't know how to help him."
"Jake was great. There was a lot unsaid, as expected. I mean, we were only with him a few minutes. I think Jake's perspective of Robby has shifted, I think for the better. I'm sure his perspective of everything has shifted, even without the shooting; he's 17. I just hope they can both reconnect and work through their shit well enough. They deserve to have each other in their lives. They love each other so fucking much."
"Misha, honey, we need to eat." Jack said, rousing Robby.
"I don't want to move." Robby said, not opening his eyes.
"I only need you to sit up. I've already organised dinner."
"Oh, thank you."
Robby sat up and shuffled up the bed. He let his head fall back onto the headboard.
"How you feeling? A bit flat?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." Robby mumbled.
Jack sidled up to Robby and placed the little folding table over Robby's legs.
"I know we've been eating a shitload of eggs lately, but we had them, and they've been seasoned to high heaven."
"Perfect, thank you."
They ate, too tired to make conversation. Jack cleaned up after dinner to find Robby curled up on his side. Jack curled up around Robby and just held him as he cried. Jack's heart broke for Robby, but he hoped finally being able to cry it out would help him get past the drawn out panic he'd been stuck in. When Robby eventually stopped crying, but he didn't seem to have really settled.
"Hey," Jack said gently, not wanting to push.
Robby just sighed in response.
"Can I help? Can I get you anything?"
"No, thank you." Robby mumbled.
"What are you thinking?"
"Nothing particularly pleasant."
"Want to tell me about it?"
"It's shit you've heard before."
"Tell me anyway."
"Standard issue self-loathing bullshit, it's really not interesting."
"Roll over, look at me."
"Do I have to?"
"No, but I'd like you to."
"Fine." Robby said. Jack shuffled back to give Robby room. Jack kissed Robby's forehead and smiled.
"Hey,"
"Hey,"
"Is this the come down?"
"Yeah. Well, I fucking hope so."
"Good. It sucks, but at least we don't have to wait for it any more."
"Yep." Robby moved in closer to Jack, wanting to be held.
Day 23
Jack awoke, hoping today would be easier. He wondered if heading out yesterday, so soon after one of the most challenging things Robby had ever done, was wise. Running into people or something challenging was an inherent risk, but seeing Jake was so tough despite it being so far beyond any of Jack's hopes for Jake and Robby reconnecting. Robby stirred beside Jack, lying on his side facing away from Jack.
"Hey, good morning, sweetheart." Jack said warmly, carding his fingers through Robby's hair.
"Morning," Robby sighed.
"What do you want to do for breakfast?"
"Nothing," Robby mumbled.
"I know you're hungry." Jack said.
Robby shrugged.
"I'll grab some ensures."
Jack fetched the ensures and sat up in bed next to Robby. Jack rubbed Robby's arm gently. "We can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want?"
"I don't want breakfast." Robby said flatly.
Jack was starting to worry. "You don't have to move." Jack spiked the shake and put it next to Robby's face. Robby didn't respond.
"Please, Misha."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to."
"What can I get you instead?"
"Nothing."
Jack sighed. "Drink some of it when you take your morning meds, please."
"Fine." Robby said. He took his morning meds and took a sip.
"Thank you. I love you." Jack kept rubbing Robby's arm.
"Love you, too" Robby said flatly before closing his eyes.
"Hey, Misha, did you want to have a shower before we head out to see Daniel?" Jack asked quietly, having sat by Robby's side since morning.
"No." Robby sighed.
"Okay, how about eating something?" Jack asked, gently rubbing Robby's arm.
"No."
"Drinking something?"
"No. Stop."
"Why not? Are you in pain?"
Robby ignored Jack.
"Please, honey." Jack implored.
Robby ignored Jack again.
Jack considered the situation; Robby was almost certainly just having a really shit day. They'd get through it. He took his morning meds, so despite refusing to eat or drink, watchful waiting was probably most appropriate, for now. If Robby refused to drink after seeing Daniel, he'd hang some saline. Planning beyond that felt like daring intrusive thoughts to come true, despite knowing that was completely irrational.
"Would you like some clean clothes?" Jack asked.
"No," Robby pleaded.
"Okay, sweetheart. Should we head off now?"
"No."
"Telehealth?"
"No," Robby sighed.
"I'm going to let Daniel know you'll be doing a phone call again today." Jack said.
Jack texted Daniel, and waited for Robby's phone to ring. Jack answered, and put the phone on speaker before kissing Robby's forehead and stepping out to give Robby privacy.
Robby
"I don't want to talk."
Jack
"I'm trying not to panic; him having bad days was inevitable. I'm trying to avoid thinking about what I'll need to do if this goes on tomorrow."
"I'm fucking exhausted but I'm fine."
Jack loaded up his pockets with ensures and protein bars and knocked on the bedroom door before stepping in. Robby didn't appear to have moved. Jack approached Robby from Robby's side of the bed and pulled over a chair. Robby had obviously been crying. Jack pulled one of Robby's hands into his. Robby was completely passive.
"Hey, sweetie, early dinner?"
"No," Robby sighed.
"Drink something?"
"No,"
"Okay, sweetie, I'm going to hang some saline."
A few tears slipped out of Robby's closed eyes. Jack sighed, gently wiping them away. He kissed Robby's forehead and organised the supplies.
Jack cleaned the back of Robby's hand. "Sharp scratch," Jack said, inserting the catheter painlessly. Jack delicately dressed the site and held Robby's hand. Jack took deep breaths, desperately trying to stop the noise in his head making it out of his mouth. Jack carded his fingers through Robby's hair. The tension in Robby's face gradually softened, eventually falling away completely. Jack remained, focused completely on the gentle rise and fall of Robby's chest. Jack gave Robby some time.
"Misha, honey, time for meds. Please drink something."
Robby languidly opened his eyes and looked up at Jack with as much venom as he could muster. Jack stroked his his cheekbone, completely unbothered by Robby's resentment.
"Can you please sit up? Just a little?"
Robby sighed, but didn't move.
"Open, please." Jack asked.
Robby refused.
Jack sighed. "Please, honey."
Robby opened his mouth and accepted the pills. Jack tipped a straw into Robby's mouth, and he took the tiniest of sips and swallowed.
"Please drink some more."
Robby took another perfunctory sip and pursed his lips, daring Jack to challenge him again.
"Okay, sweetheart. Thank you. I love you." Jack smiled.
Robby's eyes softened and his pursed lips began to quiver.
"I know, honey, I know." Jack stroked Robby's cheek again. Jack kissed his forehead, lingering a little. "You get some sleep. sweetheart, I'll be right here."
Jack waited for Robby to settle into deeper sleep before making himself some toast and awkwardly spreading the butter with a spoon. He made his way back to Robby's bedside and ate while holding Robby's hand. Jack, not wanting to leave Robby's side, left his plate on his bedside table and curled up in bed next to him. He read for a bit, but finding himself unable to concentrate, gave up and went to sleep.
Day 24
Robby warmed into consciousness a little, the weak flame of rage still burning. He didn't fight the heaviness of sleep in his body, but his curiosity was piqued hearing Jack's voice behind him. He was talking on the phone very quietly.
"Dana, he's not eating or drinking. He had maybe a hundred millilitres of ONS yesterday. I hung saline yesterday afternoon, hung another bag overnight. We're running low. Might need more than just saline if he still can't eat today." Jack said.
"Yeah, I'm trying not to think that far ahead, not yet."
"I know. I know. Thank you, really. We've got a little time. He'll never forgive me if I do it. We're not there yet."
"I've got to go. I'll see you in a minute. Thank you." Jack hung up.
"Morning, sweetheart." Jack leaned over and kissed Robby's head.
"Morning." Robby mumbled.
Robby resented being awake. Being alive. Every time he woke up was like a betrayal; he just wanted to fucking sleep, pass the time until he never has to wake up again. Simple. He was ferociously hungry, but the pain just became yet another fucking noise. He knew Jack and Dana were talking about a nasogastric tube to feed him. It wasn't indicated. One day without eating was nowhere near sufficient to justify it. Jack was absolutely right, he'd never forgive him if he did that. Jack's warm body wrapped around Robby. It was almost painful, the heat, the intrusion of his space. He felt dizzy and nauseated. If there had been anything in his stomach he'd have vomited.
"How you feeling, honey?" Jack whispered in his ear.
Robby shook his head once, it was enough to make the room spin. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.
"You'll feel better if you eat something." Jack said.
Robby was saved from responding, for now, by a knock on the door.
"Come in, Dana." Jack called, not moving.
Dana let herself in. She came straight into the bedroom, bearing gifts apparently.
"Morning, Robby." Dana said, squeezing his hand.
"Morning." Robby replied.
There was a beat of deeply awkward silence; Dana and Jack were probably having an entire conversation via eyebrow raising and lip pursing. Robby didn't care enough to look.
"Misha, honey, Dana bought pudding. Will you eat it?"
The extremely calorically dense, easy to swallow nutritional supplement pudding was disgusting in every way imaginable, which was reason enough to refuse. Robby gave a curt shake of his head.
"Robby, come on, hon. Give it a go." Dana said. She sat in the chair Jack had left right in front of him. He heard Dana pulling off the top of the pudding and popping open his pill box. The prospect of Dana spoon feeding him was enough to spin his brain into full panic. Time to run. Robby opened his eyes and it took all the strength he had to push Dana's hand away. For all his effort, he barely managed to make contact with Dana. Running was probably out of the question.
"Hey, big guy. Here, take the spoon." Dana helped Robby wrap his hand around it and helped him guide it into his mouth. A few tears ran down his face, which Dana wiped away.
"Can you do another one?" Dana asked, reloading the spoon.
Robby closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Yes you can."
Robby shook his head, a little too hard. He retched, nearly bringing up the first horrible mouthful. If he did vomit, he'd have to take the damned pills again.
"Okay, sweetheart. We'll try again later."
Robby curled up more tightly.
"Jack, head out for a run. I'll stay here with Robby. Take as long as you need."
"I—" Jack started hesitantly.
"Jack, go for a run." Dana urged gently.
"Okay, thanks. I'll have my phone. Let me know if you need anything."
"I came prepared, don't worry, Robby and I have it under control."
Jack got ready and headed out.
"Robby, honey, you need to eat."
"No."
"Yes. Honey, this is non-negotiable. I'm so sorry, honey, but you need to. I can get you anything you want, you name it."
"No."
"Okay. I discussed timelines for an NG with Jack. It's an option on the table. I know you know that, but I needed to say it. You can just focus on getting better. It would be best to eat, but if it's too hard, we've got you covered, okay?"
"No," Robby sighed, the fight in him gone.
"If you hadn't been starving yourself and running yourself into the ground for the last few months, we'd have more wiggle room. We're going to do a 12-lead and I'll take some blood on my way out. I'm going to do the EKG now, okay, sweetheart?"
Robby sighed. His medications were kicking in, he let himself relax into them, drifting off a little. He didn't protest when Dana gently pulled the covers down and unfolded him. He let the humiliation of Dana shaving him wash away. He was floating in the same vast, empty ocean, his head not quite above water; it was just out of reach. It was better this way. Dana wrapped a cuff around his arm; the discomfort of it inflating threatened to disturb the tentative peace he'd made for himself.
"EKG's looking okay. Your BP is a bit low. You need a bit of a buff up, Robby."
"I'm fine." Robby groaned.
"Fine people eat."
"Fuck off." Robby mumbled.
"You know you can't get rid of me that easy." Dana shrugged. "Ready to try some more pudding? You can curl up, you don't have to do anything but swallow. We can get it down in three big spoons if you want."
"No. Stop."
"Why won't you eat, sweetheart? No judgement, I just want to help."
"No."
"Jack told me you saw Jake. You're going to play basketball some time?"
Tears started streaming down Robby's face.
"You can't do that if you don't eat. Jake's okay. You're okay. I know he misses you. Don't give up on him now. Finish the pudding and everyone will get off your back for a few hours." Dana said.
Dana loaded up the spoon again. Robby reached over, his arm heavier than they'd ever felt, and grabbed his PRNs. Dana intercepted the pill box and opened it for him.
"Which one, honey?"
Robby shrugged.
"Quetiapine?" Dana asked.
Robby nodded.
Dana dropped the pill on the top of the massive heap of pudding and held the spoon out for Robby. If he'd had the energy, the torrent of truly horrible thoughts would have come out of his mouth. He was incandescent with rage. It was a low fucking blow. Robby sighed and opened his mouth, against his better judgement. Dana gently lowered the spoon into his mouth. It took Robby a second to coordinate his mouth and throat before he could swallow. Robby allowed Dana to feed him the rest.
"Thank you. Can we knock off another tub? You won't have to eat again today unless you want to." Dana suggested gently.
Robby sighed. It was a fair deal. It'd get them off his back. Robby nodded.
"Thank you." Dana said, smiling tentatively. She helped Robby finish a second pot and rinse his mouth out.
The last spark of fire in Robby was extinguished; he fell asleep.
Robby awoke from a dreamless sleep with Dana still holding his hand. The noise in his head had been forced to abate by the quetiapine.
"Want to come outside?"
"Only thing I'm leaving this bed for is a cigarette."
"You and me both. Where's Jack's chair?"
"I'm fine."
"You either let me roll you outside, or you can watch me smoke through your bedroom window."
"I'm never being nice to you again."
"Got a bit more energy to argue, huh? Good. Where's Jack's chair?"
"In the corner, folded up." Robby rolled his eyes, forgetting how dizzy he was.
"Wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Dana said.
Dana flipped the chair open, pushed it to the bedside, and helped Robby into the chair. She draped a dressing gown over Robby.
"Thank you," Robby sighed.
"You hold the IV pole and I'll push."
"Can't take the chair outside if we're going to smoke. I'll be fine to take three steps."
"You better be. Jack will not be happy if I let you fall." Dana helped Robby up and out the door.
"He's going to be mad you let me smoke."
"Once he hears you ate two puddings he'll be too happy to be upset. You sure you want to smoke? You quit."
"What am I going to do, run down to the shops to get more?" Robby said, gesturing to his dressing gown.
"You could. How you feeling?" Dana handed Robby a cigarette and held out the lighter.
"Why did I quit?" Robby said, taking a deep drag on the cigarette. His head spun, his lungs burned, just a little. It was beautiful.
"It's bad for you, apparently. How you feeling?"
"Fabulous." Robby deadpanned, letting his head flop back and his eyes close. He took another deep drag on the cigarette.
"Clearly."
Robby didn't want to talk about it, about anything. Cigarette breaks are sacred and not to be ruined by interrogations.
"I told Jack we were okay here, that he should take the day."
"He's probably elbow deep in some poor bastard at work. Something he can actually fucking fix." Robby mumbled derisively. Jack always needed a project. At least it wasn't him for the next few hours.
"He just wants to help." Dana said pointedly.
"He can help people who want it."
"Those who need it, too."
Robby chose not to dignify that with a response. At this point, the head noise would be a welcome distraction from the conversation he had no interest in having.
"Tell me what's going on." Dana said.
"I really don't want to."
"Do it anyway. Tell me what's going on and maybe there's another cigarette in it for you."
"Had a couple of big days with Jack. Seeing Jake was triggering. Is that enough therapy speak? One cigarette, please."
"Thank you." Dana held up her end of the bargain and put a cigarette in Robby's outstretched hand.
Robby lit the new cigarette with the burning butt of his first.
"Jack is going to kill me." Dana sighed.
"He'll be happy you made me eat. He fucking better be."
"Take your PRNs, eat, and let us take care of you, and everyone will be happy, including you. You know that. Jack told me you've been having more good days than bad. This is just a little backslide."
Robby focused on smoking his cigarette. He knew he'd probably regret it. Any cravings later he'd just sedate himself through. Fuck it. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
"You don't threaten to force feed someone having a little backslide."
"Do you want us to leave you out of care planning discussions and spring it on you?"
"It's not clinically indicated." Robby said, taking another deep drag on his cigarette. It was almost gone.
"After two days of not eating, in your state, yeah, honey, it would have been."
"You're being ridiculous. I'm going to bed." Robby put out his cigarette. A thought popped into his mind to put it out on himself, which just confused him. What the hell even was that? This was getting ridiculous.
Dana stood up and hovered, following him inside. Robby leaned on the wheelchair and took a few steps.
"Sit down." Dana said patiently.
Robby didn't fight. He sat down and let Dana push him.
"You want a shower?"
"I won't be allowed to do it unsupervised, will I?"
"No. You're already essentially naked. You want me to wash the cigarette stank out of your hair before Jack comes home? This is your chance."
"Fucking hell. Yes, please."
Dana tucked Robby's hand into a plastic bag to keep his IV protected and helped him into the shower. Dana was quick, still almost too tender for Robby to bear. He soaped the rest of himself over, and was ready to climb back into bed. He had to admit, being free of a few layers of grime was a refreshing change. Robby took a diazepam and closed his eyes and waited.
"Robby, honey, Daniel's on the phone for you." Dana said.
Robby sighed.
Robby
"Seeing Jake was triggering. I wasn't prepared. It's what I told Dana in exchange for a cigarette."
"They were going to force fucking feed me. Fucking ridiculous. Doesn't exactly make me feel safe."
Robby didn't realise he'd drifted off until he warmed into consciousness. The hand holding his was not Dana's. Jack. Robby felt a sob threatening to break through; Jack must have noticed.
"Hey, sweetheart. It's just me. I love you." Jack said, kissing Robby's forehead.
Jack still felt like a red-hot poker fresh from the fire on his skin. Robby recoiled a little and winced; he was beyond furious at Jack, but some voice within him couldn't bear the thought of hurting Jack's feelings by recoiling at his touch. He assumed Dana had done a hand-off of sorts and it almost certainly would have felt like a betrayal that he ate for Dana but not him.
"Too hot." Robby mumbled.
Robby recoiled again when he felt the intrusion of a thermometer in his ear. Not this shit again. Jack sighed; he leaned over and flicked the electric blanket on.
"Just to warm you up a little, honey. You're cold." Jack said, stroking his hair.
Robby opened his eyes. Jack smiled at him.
"There we are, hey, beautiful." Jack said warmly.
"How was work? Assuming..." Robby mumbled.
"Yeah. Just helped out for a few hours after I went for a run. Everyone says hi and hopes you're enjoying your time off."
"Should have told them I'm not, though taking fucking NG supplies might have given them a fucking hint."
"You can decide what you tell people later. Dana already grabbed NG supplies."
"Get rid of them."
"Okay."
"Now."
"We can argue about this later."
"I'm fucking fine."
"Do you want me to go? Dana's still here." Jack asked. If he was upset by the prospect, he hid it extremely well.
"I want to be alone."
"No can do. Your options are me or Dana."
Robby, despite being too fucking tired and medicated to his eyeballs, he cried.
Jack hesitated before making his way around the bed and wrapping himself around Robby.
"I love you. I'm sorry." Jack whispered into Robby's ear.
Jack gently rocked Robby, and held him until he fell asleep again.
Jack sat at Robby's bedside and stroked his cheek. He needed to wake him up for evening meds, and he was rethinking his decision to send Dana home.
"Misha, honey, time for meds." Jack said sweetly.
Robby groaned. He opened his eyes nonetheless. Jack handed Robby the pill box.
"Thanks," Robby sighed, tipping the pills in his mouth.
"You hungry?" Jack asked, handing Robby an ensure.
Robby took a small sip to wash the pills down. Robby sighed.
"You want me to drink this." Robby stated.
"I do, but I'm not going to push. Dana told me you ate." Jack smiled, and gently brushed the hair from Robby's face.
Robby took a mouthful and swallowed it before handing it back to Jack.
"Thank you, sweetheart. good work." Jack said, kissing Robby's forehead.
Robby felt warmer and didn't flinch this time. Progress.
"Can I get you anything before you nod off?"
Robby thought for a second. "Cuddle?" he asked tentatively.
"Always." Jack smiled.
Jack went around to his side of the bed slipped his shirt off before pressing himself against Robby. A small moan escaped Robby's mouth; he was still a bit cold, but was warm enough to appreciate Jack's warmth, apparently. Robby uncurled, leaning into Jack's embrace.
"I'm right here, baby." Jack whispered.
They both fell asleep.
Day 25
Robby stirred in Jack's arms. Jack stroked Robby's hair, hoping again that today would be a better day for Robby.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
"Morning," Robby mumbled.
"Do you feel like doing anything today?"
"I don't know."
"I can work with that."
"I'm a glorified houseplant. What are you going to do, Weekend at Bernie's me around a museum, or something?"
"Houseplants are less difficult. That's a great idea, actually."
"A one legged guy dragging his fiancé's corpse around Pittsburgh is going to make the news; you'll have to take me to Philly. They won't notice. I'm not sure they've heard of museums, though."
Jack laughed, really laughed. It was just so unexpected. Jack couldn't stop laughing, he rolled back to give himself room to breathe.
"It wasn't that funny." Robby said, shaking his head.
"Wasn't expecting it," Jack gasped.
Jack choked a little on his own spit and started coughing, his eyes watered, and his vision narrowed.
Robby, apparently alarmed by the noises Jack was making, rolled over. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees over Jack.
"Jack, honey, breathe." Robby said.
Jack couldn't; he was still trying to cough. The room spun as Robby rolled him on his side and smacked him between the shoulder blades. Jack gasped and rolled on his back, taking deep breaths.
"Jack, what the fuck? Your lungs sound like shit. I can hear you wheezing from here."
"I'm liable to choke on my spit if you crack a joke when I'm not expecting it. Of course you can hear me wheezing, you're on top of me." Jack panted.
Jack looked up at Robby, with his eyebrows knitted together, his hair all mussed up. He was still pale, gaunt, and a little sweaty, still looking desperately sad. Jack reached up and massaged Robby's eyebrows apart.
"No need to frown. You just nearly killed me, is all."
"Lame joke to die over."
"I've laughed harder at worse." Jack shrugged, utterly entranced by Robby's broad shoulders looming over him, his thick arms either side of his head.
"That's because you have no taste."
"You're marrying me anyway." Jack smiled.
"If we both live long enough." Robby laughed.
Jack frowned. Robby probably didn't mean anything by it, but that didn't stop the chill of fear from slicing through him.
"Not like that. I mean, sure, yes like that. I meant if you die choking over stupid pot shots at Philly." Robby sighed.
Robby handed Jack his inhaler and and flopped on the bed next to him.
"Thanks," Jack said, rolling over and draping himself over Robby's chest.
At least Robby seemed to be doing better this morning.
"At the risk of being thrown from my favourite sleeping spot, can you eat breakfast?" Jack asked quietly. Robby's heart started beating faster, and Jack felt a spike of anxiety for him. "Baby, shh, it's okay. I'm sorry."
Robby took a deep breath. "Fine."
"Food or pudding?"
"Food."
"Toast? Eggs? Croissants? All of the above?"
"Croissant." Robby said, emphasising the letter T, singular.
"You want to eat in the garden?"
"Yeah. I don't want to move until it gets here."
"Good call."
They fell asleep and startled awake when Jack's phone buzzed to let them know their food had been delivered.
"You wait, I'll get the door." Jack said.
"You're the disabled one. I'll go."
"You can hardly hold yourself up. I'll go."
"I'll be careful."
"Nope. I sit in the wheelchair. You sit on me. I push."
"You think that thing can take both of us?"
"I know it can."
"At least I don't have far to fall." Robby said. He pulled the IV out and quickly taped his hand over with gauze.
Jack rolled off the bed and sat in the chair. He smiled and slapped his knees, beckoning Robby. Robby shook his head and climbed on top of Jack, shuffling around until he found a position where his limbs were as out of the way as he could manage.
"Lean back into me." Jack said. When Robby shifted his weight, Jack pushed them to the door. "You going to trip over your own feet picking it up?"
"No." Robby scoffed. He unfolded himself, grabbed the food, and climbed back on.
"Thank you." Jack rolled them out to the outside table setting.
Robby helped Jack into a chair at the table setting and unpacked breakfast. Jack must have looked a little lost in his thoughts.
"What's on your mind?" Robby asked.
Jack considered how to respond. Robby wasn't ready to hear what was on Jack's mind. Jack wasn't ready to say it. There are some things he'd kept to himself when he shouldn't, and things he really should have kept to himself. Differentiating between the two didn't seem possible right now.
"You don't want to know." Jack said.
"Yes, I do." Robby said.
"You know I've been restrained and forcibly tube fed, right? I'm pretty sure you were there for some of it. Back when you rescued me from that horrible fucking place. That's on my mind. Wondering if you'd ever forgive me if you lived long enough after I did that to you is on my mind. We've still got a ways to go; I can handle it. I don't have a choice but to handle it. You are welcome to argue with me about keeping the NG supplies on hand but they're not going anywhere for a while. I can get you through this even if you hate me for it for the rest of our lives, which may not be saying much; I'm not sure yet. You didn't tell me you had head noise; you promised you would. You gave up on me. It hurts. I can't be upset about it, I know that. It still hurts. I need to stop fucking talking or you may never speak to me again." Jack said, shoving half his croissant in his mouth like it would gag him.
"I'm so—" Robby began.
"Don't. 'S fine." Jack mumbled through his mouthful of croissant. He shrugged.
"I think we're long overdue for a screaming match. Even if we just yell the phone book at each other. No holds barred, and maybe we won't hold what we scream against each other forever. Scream, and cry, and then hold each other."
Jack nearly choked on his mouthful of croissant. "We don't really yell at each other, not like that."
"Yeah, when I start raising my voice you call me out on my bullshit, and you probably yell your feelings at Daniel instead of me. Maybe we should try it some time, though. Could be healthy."
Jack laughed. "Do either of us have the energy to yell? You can hardly hold yourself upright."
"We can book it in for later. You're forcing me to carb load."
"I'm glad you're eating."
"That makes one of us." Robby sighed.
"And you're doing it anyway." Jack smiled.
"I don't know why I couldn't tell you I was having a fucking meltdown. I basically told Daniel to fuck off. I don't know why Dana was able to convince me to not fight her about eating."
"You took more of your meds yesterday." Jack shrugged.
"I'm so fucking sick of this."
"Of what?" Jack asked earnestly.
"Not understanding what the fuck is wrong with me, why I think and feel the things I do. Wanting to fucking die all the time is boring. Feeling like I have no fucking control. I don't know myself or my life any more. I hate it. I don't know how to stop feeling like this." Robby shrugged.
"I get you. I don't know if you realise how far you've come, though, Misha." Jack said kindly.
"It's never feels far enough. I'm fucked." Robby took a deep breath. "I've had the world's most depressing album stuck in my head, right?" Robby said casually.
"Hospice by The Antlers? Babe," Jack groaned.
"You love it, too." Robby said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah. I mean, an album about caring for and being in an abusive relationship someone with terminal cancer? It's super fucking depressing. Forgive me for wishing you had literally anything else stuck in your head."
"Yeah. Art. Good shit. Top of my albums to slit your wrists to playlist. I mean, it does have a happy ending, in a way. If I had something happier stuck in my head I'd have stuck my head in the fucking oven." Robby joked.
"The happy ending is that she dies, babe. Our oven has a suicide lever." Jack said slowly, not really sure of where the fuck this particular conversation was going.
"I'm suicidal, not stupid. Not my preferred method, anyway. I couldn't bear ruining the oven; it's sacred." Robby shrugged.
"Fucking hell, Misha. Jesus—" Jack shook his head, stumbling over how exactly to respond to that. The alarm bells were already well and truly ringing, but Robby casually saying I'm suicidal like he hadn't been refusing to admit that this whole fucking time despite everyone knowing he was had Jack panicking. Was Robby planning something? Was he going to realise he said to much, panic, and try to run? Jack didn't have his prosthetic on. Fuck.
"Jack—"
"Michael, I'm going to be honest, you are freaking me the fuck out."
"Just let me finish. All I have circling around my fucking head is that whole fucking album. Right now? Wake."
"Misha—"
"You tell me I can't be the last sin-eater; you're right, but letting people in feels fucking impossible. I'm still in fucking ruins and a black hole of abject misery. I've been fighting like hell against everything; I've been so ...stuck. It's been weeks. I told you I didn't think I could cope with a setback, well, here I am. What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? Other than stick my head in the fucking oven and let you get the fuck on with your life instead of being stuck in this with me. When I'm not ...bordering on catatonic, I just want to fucking scream, you know? It's ridiculous. At some point I have to commit." Robby shrugged, his casual demeanour somewhat incongruous with what had just come out of his mouth.
"What is your preferred method?" Jack asked seriously.
"You're missing the point." Robby groaned.
"You've had a couple of really bad days. You're telling me you think I'd be happier if you were dead. You now appear to have the energy to make that happen. Forgive me for missing the point if that wasn't it."
"That's not what I'm saying at all."
"You just said at some point I have to commit. If there's another way to understand that, maybe try explaining it to me again?"
"I don't know. I want to be done with it."
"Michael, do you understand how that's not making me less terrified?"
"Fuck me. Sorry." Robby rubbed his face. "I'm trying to say I want to be like this any more. I don't want to haunt you like this, you know? I'm so fucking sick of feeling like this. There's only two ways out of it; I die, or I get better. Or try to get better, whatever. I have to make a choice. I want to get better."
Jack threw himself into Robby's arms.