Chapter Text
Robby has barely made it into work and dropped his bag when it happens.
Loud, agitated voices carry from Central Seven.
Parker Ellis emerges quickly, hand raised in front of her, and Robby’s head snaps up.
She’s pleading with someone. Ellis is one of the coolest, most level-headed residents they’ve ever had, hearing her sound frightened is just wrong. She’s worked under Dr. Abbot, a war hero and a medical badass, for four full years. He’s taught her to be confident and strong. She doesn't take shit from anyone.
So the hairs on Robby’s neck stand on end when he sees her facing a man who’s holding something in his hand.
It’s a knife, and he’s pointing it at Parker’s throat.
Robby drops his backpack and shouts for security. He barely makes two steps before the man with the knife is yelling again and lunging at Parker.
Robby’s stomach drops, and everything descends into chaos—because out of nowhere, Jack Abbot has thrown himself between the man and his favourite R4. Always the truest form of the word hero, appearing from thin air and making himself a human shield for his protégé, just like he’d done for his brothers in the war.
Everything goes silent for one horrible moment. The only thing Robby hears is his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Then he hears Parker’s frantic yelps.
Robby’s body goes stiff. A fear like no other spreads through his nervous system as he sees his best friend- his… well, Jack Abbot- sway on the spot.
And then all hell breaks loose.
Security collide with the man who had been wielding the blade and they go clattering to the floor. Parker is shaking, whimpering, and Jack is entirely silent, standing tall, one arm gripping Parker’s shoulder.
Robby should move. He needs to move… but it’s like his legs are made of stone.
The only thought he has is, No, no, no, no. Heat drains from his body, his vision stutters.
He’s frozen with fear for the first time in his professional career. He’s a trauma doctor; he’s seen everything; things he wishes he hadn’t. But right now, when it’s Abbot clearly in danger, Robby is paralysed by terror.
“Someone help me!” Parker screeches, and nurses and medical staff spill from other cubicles, people minutes away from ending their night shifts.
“Robby! Is he here yet? Someone get Robby!”
At the sound of his name, something snaps Robby’s mind back into place. He’s in charge. This is his department. And this is his friend who needs him. Jack needs him. Jack, who has been the one constant in his life, who’s spent months since Pittfest piecing Robby back together, feeding him, comforting him, listening to him finally opening up- that Jack needs him.
His mind races through the panic but Robby knows what he has to do. This is the line between patient and friend, and he can’t afford to let it blur now.
He forces one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on his friend. Jack’s got his back to him, but he's letting go of Parker, his arms moving shakily…
“Ellis! Do NOT let him pull that knife!” Robby roars. The authority jolts Parker back to herself. She reaches forward, grabbing Jack’s wrist, then presses her hands around the blade to stabilise it.
“Get a trolley! Someone call OR, for Christ’s sake! If you’re needed with your patient, get back to your rooms—if not, get to Trauma One now!” Robby barks, snapping blue gloves on as he reaches Jack.
Security have the attacker pinned to the floor. There’s chaos everywhere, but Robby’s focus narrows to Abbot.
A lower abdominal stab wound. Just below the navel, left side.
Jack is swaying, eyes open but unfocused. Those hazel eyes have completely lost their cheeky sparkle, and it’s enough to make Robby’s knees shake. The dark stain spreading on Abbot’s black scrubs makes bile rise in Robby’s throat. He wants to examine it properly but pulling the scrubs even slightly could shift the knife deeper.
“Hey, brother…” Robby says, trying to sound light, but his voice betrays him. “Couldn’t let me sit my ass in a chair for one second? I haven’t even looked at the board, never mind come find you for changeover…”
“Sorry,” Abbot chokes. “Little busy up in here right now.” He tries to look at Robby, but his eyes flicker a little. One hand lifts toward Robby’s neck, lightly gripping him. “Did he hurt her?” Jack asks, full of concern for his favourite resident—then his head rolls backwards.
“Jack? Jack. Look at me. Focus on me,” Robby says urgently. “You’re okay. Stay awake. Parker isn’t hurt, she’s right here. Keep your eyes on me. Talk to me.”
“Trying,” Abbot pants. His skin is turning clammy and grey. “Fuck, this really burns. I’m on fire. Stop pushing—”
Parker is bracing her hands around the blade, keeping it still, keeping pressure on it. She looks terrified; too terrified even to speak.
“Do NOT stop,” Robby warns. Parker nods, her arms are shaking but she keeps pressing.
Then Abbot starts to crumple, and Robby goes with him, refusing to let the blade move. He gets behind Abbot, swinging one leg around his, taking his weight as they sink down on to the cold floor. Robby’s hands replace Parker’s, pressing deep around the handle of the blade, fingers shaped almost like a heart. Abbot hisses in agony, his head falling against Robby’s chin.
“Where’s the fucking trolley?!” Robby yells, trying to ignore the hot liquid soaking over his gloves. Jack’s blood.
Scrambling. Crashing. Finally, nurses gather around having located a free trolly.
“We need to get him up,” Nurse Lena says. “Carefully. Bridget, over here..."
Robby lets them coordinate and focuses on the man in his arms.
“Fuck,” Abbot mumbles, curls brushing Robby’s cheek as he writhes.
“It’s going to be okay. I promise you, Jack...just...just stay with me, okay?” Robby says, hearing himself make promises he knows he shouldn’t. But this is Jack Abbot in his arms- he cannot let anything happen to him.
“I know,” Abbot murmurs. “Really fuckin’ burns… I can’t…”
“Jack. Jack?” Robby urges. “Keep those eyes open. Talk to me, brother.”
Abbot only grumbles.
“You’re okay, you hear me? I won’t let anything happen to you,” Robby promises again. He shakes Jack’s shoulder lightly with his own, unable to remove his hands from the wound.
“…m’not worried,” Abbot barely breathes. “Y’know why, Robby?”
“Why?” Robby echoes, as the team shifts Abbot, preparing to lift him off Robby.
“’Cause you’ve got me… Robinavitch.”
---
Someone spins Robby around and drags a sterile gown over his arms.
“Ketamine, Lena...” Robby instructs while being tied into the gown.
“Airway’s clear! breathing shallow!” Bridget calls from the head of the bed.
“BP dropping!” she adds. “He’s tachycardic. Hypotensive—”
“He’s going into shock, fuck, get two large-bore IVs and start a fluid bolus, wide open!” Robby orders. Supplies are pressed into his hand. Abbot’s scrubs have been cut away; gauze is packed around the embedded blade, but sickeningly the wound is still bleeding with a good flow. With ketamine pushed, Jack is completely unconscious now.
“Keep up suction, Ellis!” Robby snaps when he sees Parker’s hand shaking, the catheter barely clearing the blood. She looks distraught, of course she is; Abbot is her mentor, her biggest cheerleader. He took a blade for her. But she needs to focus.
“Get her out of here,” Robby says, not unkindly. A male nurse moves in.
“What? No—Dr. Robby, I can’t leave him!” Parker protests, still struggling with the suction.
“I’ve got him, Parker. You’re in shock. Get some air. Just for now."
She hesitates before surrendering the suction, which the nurse immediately steadies. “Bleeding is stabilising,” the nurse reports, grabbing more sterile gauze to reinforce the packing.
“You’ve got him?” Parker asks, trembling. Robby has never seen her like this, usually she’s smooth and unshakable, just like Abbot.
Robby nods. “I’ve got him.”
She places one trembling hand on Jack’s arm, then hurries out.
“Crank the O2—non-rebreather. And who’s on day shift today?” Robby demands. Langdon should be in by now. “Call Langdon!”
As if summoned, Langdon bursts through the doors seconds later, eyes wide.
“Is it true? Is that Abbot?” he asks, snapping on gloves.
Robby nods, relieved to have one of his best at his side.
“Single penetrating abdominal trauma- unknown depth,” Robby reports. “If the knife breached the peritoneal cavity we’re in trouble. He’s in hypovolemic shock—c’mon, Jack. Don't do this to me..."
“Run a FAST—check for free fluid,” Langdon orders as a nurse helps him into a gown. “A patient did this? Fuck.”
“He saved Parker. Jack saved her.” Robby’s voice cracks before he shoves it down. “Okay—everyone! Prep for an emergency laparotomy. Where’s the extra blood?!”
Nurses rush to prep the room. Outside the glass, Esme from Janitorial mops up streaks of Jack’s blood. Robby trembles as she wrings the red-tinged water into a bucket. Langdon glances at him with soft eyes—too soft—and Robby can’t bear it. I get it, Langdon’s look says.
They’re back on speaking terms; Frank’s been clean almost five months. Robby is proud of him, quietly. But things aren’t fully the same. Even so, if Robby had to choose anyone for Abbot’s care, Langdon would be his first choice. Smart, steady, focused and always going beyond in his personal research on his own time.
“You doing okay, boss?” Langdon asks quietly.
“I don’t know, Frank. I just… I don’t know.” Robby shakes his head. “Squeeze that O-neg in, quickly please,” he adds to Bridget.
He does know. He just can’t think it. His whole world flipped in the second it took for a crazed man to stab someone. There cannot be an existence where Jack Abbot isn’t okay. Robby’s chest constricts painfully at the thought.
“Damn! free fluid in the abdomen,” Langdon reports from the FAST scan.
The weight hits Robby. Jack’s worsening. Something is ruptured.
Jack Abbot is bleeding to death on his watch, and before Robby’s even had the chance to tell him what he has meant to him all these years. Ironically, it's something Robby's been working through in therapy. Why didn't he tell Jack before now? What if he's left it too late?
“Where the hell is surgery?” Robby snaps, looking over Langdon’s shoulder at the tablet. He ignores the dripping blood from the trolley, focusing only on stabilising Jack.
He moves and grabs the phone himself, dials extension 1121.
“Walsh? I don’t care—no, I don’t care. Take your hands out of your patient and hand over to your assistant practitioner. It’s Abbot—did they tell you it’s Abbot? I swear to God, I will operate right here myself. Get here now.” He slams the phone down.
Dr. King enters as Langdon briefs her. Robby feels a small breath of relief. These are his people. He trusts them. He needs the best for Jack.
“Listen up—night shift, swap out,” Robby calls. He doesn't care if it's selfish. He wants fresh, alert help. He wants his own team.
A few protest.
“I know. I get it. Dr. Abbot is your attending, but you need to debrief and go home. Let day shift take over. Move!”
He knows Lena won’t go. She is to Jack what Dana is to him.
“Dr. King? Take over for Lena, keep that blood running. Lena, find Donnie, Mateo, Whitaker—whoever just clocked on. Swap your team and come back.”
People come and go. Robby barely registers.
“He’s going into hypovolemic shock!” Dr. King squeaks urgently as monitors blare.
Langdon swears and pulls away soaked gauze. The bleeding is worsening. Jack is slipping.
“Fuck! Robby, we need to do something!” Langdon barks. “Warm IV- he’s freezing.”
Robby is one minute away from performing surgery right here. Fuck the OR.
“I’m intubating,” Robby announces, reaching for a laryngoscope and Mackintosh blade. “Where’s the succinylcholine?” His hands are steady even though his gloves are slick with Jack’s blood.
They were supposed to be having beers and wings tomorrow at Jack’s place, watching the Pittsburgh Penguins kill the Nashville Predators. They weren’t supposed to be here. They were supposed to be arguing about points and how hoppy the IPA Robby brought was.
Whitaker enters, gloved and gowned.
“Whitaker...bag him,” Robby orders.
“On it.”
“What the hell is going on?” Garcia snaps as she breezes in. “Why isn’t he in my OR?!”
“Ask that to fucking Walsh,” Robby fires back, dropping his scalpel into the dish. “I’ve called twice!”
Garcia scowls. “Well, I’m here, I've just clocked in. Call ahead, we’re going now!”
“He’s probably better off here,” Langdon mutters.
“Oh good, ER Ken is here to save the day if his hands have stopped shak—” Garcia acidly begins to snarks back
“Shut the fuck up!” Robby roars. His vision blurs—stress or relief, he’s not sure. “Let’s go!”
---
The OR is cold. The smell is sharper, more sterile. Abbot is pulled into position on the table. More warm IVs are run as Robby and Langdon give a full handover.
Anesthetists adjust meds. Walsh finally enters and begins scrubbing in. The room buzzes with movement but Walsh is uncharacteristically silent. She and Abbot never got along professionally, her publications overshadowed by his, his witty retorts always faster than hers, but even she respects him, clearly, judging by her still tongue.
Robby can’t even look at her. She should have been here half an hour ago.
Garcia gives orders.
“...Laparotomy, now.” She hesitates, hands raised. “Are you staying, Dr. Robinavitch?”
She doesn’t sound aloof for once.
“I…” Robby starts. He wants to stay, but he knows he can’t.
“Take a moment with him,” she says quietly. “Quickly. You still have an ED to run.”
Langdon dutifully takes a beat and waits by the doors. Robby steps to Jack’s head. They’ve taped his eyes closed. It makes him nauseous.
“If you code, Jack… I swear to God,” Robby whispers, his throat thick. “You don’t get to leave me in this. I’ll see you when you wake up, brother.”
He leans down and kisses Jack’s hair, it's damp with cold sweat, he doesn't care who's watching, and then walks out of the OR without looking back.
---
“Robby…” Langdon says as the elevator doors slide open
“Take another one, Frank. I need air. Get back to the Pitt. Keep it running.”
---
Robby sits on the roof, back to the wall, knees pulled to his chest.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been here. Ten minutes? An hour? Two?
He doesn’t know if the one constant in his life is living or dead. The not-knowing is torture.
The metal door creaks open. Robby closes his eyes. It’s not Jack coming to find him like usual. Hell, that thought stings.
“Hey, Cap,” Langdon says softly. From his tone, Robby knows there’s no update yet, no dread in his voice. “Dana said you might be up here. Sweet spot.”
“What is it, Frank?” Robby sighs.
Langdon slides down the wall and sits beside him. “Nothing. I’m on break. Thought I’d see how you’re doing.”
“Well, I haven’t jumped,” Robby mutters.
Langdon fidgets with his stethoscope. He doesn’t know how to respond. Jack would’ve cracked a dark joke by now. The roof is their spot.
“He’s going to be fine, Robby,” Langdon says eventually, fiddling with his shoelace. Robby’s mind refuses to believe it. It’s preparing for the worst. He needs to be prepared this time.
Robby lets out a strangled sob. “How can you be so sure?”
Langdon shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “It’s Jack Abbot. The man walked away from being blown up, Robby, even though he wasn't whole. He’s had loss after loss and he still shows up every damn night like the badass hero he is.”
Robby wipes his eye on his hoodie sleeve. “Yeah.”
“He’s come through worse. He’ll come through this.”
“What if it’s too much this time?” Robby chokes. “What if this is the one that breaks him?”
He can’t help thinking of Jack’s recovery after losing his lower limb in Iraq. Those brutal days in physio when Robby pushed him relentlessly, when Jack got angry, swore, claimed to hate him, but Robby kept coming back because Jack needed reminding how strong he was. He was the strongest motherfucker Robby knew.
Langdon shrugs again. “Nah. He’s got you in his corner. He’ll be fine.”
“Me?” Robby scoffs. “I’m a mess. If Jack’s depending on me, he’s in trouble.” Since Pittfest, Robby hasn’t felt like himself, maybe even before that. He hopes he hides it the best he can, but he fears his team knows anyway. Gossip rules the hospital after all.
“Oh, stop.” Langdon huffs. “You never could take a compliment. Robby, you’re one of the best people I know. I wouldn’t be half the doctor I am without your guidance. And I know I messed up last year but—”
“Frank. No. Stop.” Robby cuts in, though this time it's actually not to shut him down.
Langdon quiets, assuming Robby doesn’t want to go there. He's not pushing it.
“I owe you an apology,” Robby says. “I’ve been too hard on you. Addiction is one of the hardest battles there is, and instead of giving up, you worked the programme. You came back stronger. You didn't hide. I should’ve said this the day you returned, but I was hurt, angry, and… I’m kind of an asshole.”
Langdon’s eyes shine over.
“Earlier...when everything was going to hell...I knew I wanted you with me. I trusted you more than anyone with Jack’s life. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you this. I am proud of you, Frank. I’ve pushed you because it made me realise how much I’d let you down, how much I’d missed. If I’d been any kind of mentor, you could’ve come to me from day one and asked for help. Instead I've been drowning in my own shit. I've let you all down."
“Fuck,” Langdon whispers, swiping a tear. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
I do know, Robby thinks. Frank reminds him of himself twenty years ago, confident, cocky, eager to learn. Yearning to be the best.
“And it wasn’t your fault,” Langdon adds. “I was arrogant enough to think I could handle it myself. I didn’t want to seem weak. I guess we both messed up, huh?”
Robby nods. Langdon takes a deep breath, grounding himself.
“I should get back down there,” he says finally, motioning toward the door.
“But?” Robby says, noticing Langdon hasn’t moved.
"But... I want to say something...but I'm afraid to, because you just said all that to me and I don't want to overstep..."
Robby huffs and humourless laugh and looks at the sky.
"Just say it."
Langdon hesitates. "You and Abbot."
Robby snaps his head back and looks at Langdon. "What about us?"
"I'm probably completely misreading the situation but... You both seem like...You care about him a lot." Frank says, obviously trying to figure out what to say.
"He's been my best friend since Med school." Robby says quickly, trying to keep the defensiveness low.
"Hey, I thought you didn't have a best friend?" Langdon says, remembering a previous conversation and frowning, and Robby rolls his eyes so Langdon continues "I get that he's your best friend, but you two seem to communicate in looks, it's...intense... from an outsiders position. Sometimes I see how you look at each other and gravitate to eachother and... I dunno. You two seem like each others match."
Robby doesn't say anything because he really doesn't have the energy to right now, he can't dissect the past twenty years with one of his senior residents.
"...fuck, I'm not making much sense. What I'm trying to say, Robby, is that it's okay if there is more to it. No one cares, you guys are like our ER Dads anyway."
Robby's face is heating up. "Wait, everyone thinks this? ER Dads?"
Langdon shrugs.
"Fuuuck." Robby draws out. "I don't even know... Is it that obvious? I mean, we've never talked about it but recently..."
He makes himself shut up. He can't talk to Langdon about this. He and Jack haven't even talked about this yet.
Robby has felt it building up this past year, he knows a conversation is inevitable. There's only so much time you can spend with one person, only so many nights spent falling asleep together on the couch, before something shifts. It’s the way one simple embrace from Jack can pull him back from the edge, making everything feel different. After all the late night texts and endless calls between their hand overs, Robby can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just dependency... if it’s something deeper. All he knows for sure is that nothing makes him feel more at peace, more alive, than being with Jack Abbot. He lies awake at night thinking about him, questions swirling in his mind, trying to figure out what this feeling really is. He doesn't think he'd have made it after Pittfest if Jack hadn't pieced him back together and gotten him into therapy. Jack is so good to him, good for him. It's a lot to process.
Langdon lets the silence be comfortable, realising Robby isn't going to elaborate much further.
"It's not my business, or anyone's business. I just want to put it out there, even if I'm completely reading the room wrong, you both deserve so much and I wonder if that's something you guys need to discuss. End of conversation."
Robby digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. This day has been truly terrible and it's probably only half way through.
Langdon stands up, and brushes his pants down. "We've got it here today. You should take the rest of the day, maybe find Parker in the lounge, she's in shock Robby, a real mess, blaming herself. She's been with the cops. They'll want to speak to you, I guess."
Great. Cops. He still has that to face too.
"I want to be there when he wakes up." Robby says. "But, yes, I'll find Parker, I can't understand why she's blaming herself, she did nothing wrong except be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Robby understood her termoil, he kept wondering if he'd maybe gotten into work just five minutes earlier, could he have stepped in and diffused the situation? The thought was messing with his head. He shook it away for sanity's sake and looked back to Langdon.
"Thank you Frank. I know you guys will have it all in hand."
"Well we learned from the best." Langdon says. "Take care of yourself, Robby."
He disappears through the door to the roof and leaves Robby with a lot more to think about.