Chapter Text
Robby needs a break.
The weight of those words cannot help but rattle around the brains of those he considers to be his closest friends. Since the time of Doctor Adamson’s death, Robby has never been the same, and they know it’s due to the guilt. Dana and Jack have spent years watching him slowly burn himself out, unable to carry the world on his shoulders. Always going, always doing whatever he believes is best, but never doing anything for himself. Robby’s annoyance flares at their constant fretting, always doing everything he can to reassure them in regard to his mental health.
But the fact of the matter will always stand for as long as he’s too stubborn to admit the truth; he needs a break.
Dana and Jack know it’ll only be a matter of time before Robby does something drastic. And they also know that as long as he refuses to seek out help of any kind, that no one will be able to save him. It’s a dull ache, watching him put up a front all the while he’s whittling away at himself, stepping only closer to the edge. They can’t stand the thought of losing him, which is why one night, after a partially shitty shift, Dana texts Jack an idea.
To them, it seems like a fairly simple plan — all they need to do is find a way to coax Robby into regressing so he can take a break. Dana has already seen the wonders it’s done for Whitaker and his mental health — along with warmth, meals, and endless love from Trinity — and they think it might just be the easiest route for them to travel. They’re willing to do anything to save Robby, no matter the extent.
Besides, it’s clear to them that Robby has an affinity for the kid, even the few times that Jack has seen them interact, he’s caught on to it. They hope the drawl of his presence will make the transition for Robby easier. If it does nothing else than lower his guard for an hour or so, that’s all they’re asking for.
Truth be told, the hard part will be finding time, the harder part will be lining it up with one of Whitaker’s regressions, and the hardest part will be getting Robby to agree to any of it. Now, more than ever, he closes himself off, does his best to hide his darkness, but they see right through the façade. And they will be damned to lose Robby too.
All of which is the reason they come up with an official plan. During light conversation at the end of one of their shifts, Dana alludes to a plan of some kind to Whitaker and Santos, bringing them both into the mix. She doesn’t say more out loud, knowing the prying ears would send word back to Robby, so she texted them the details. Thankfully, they were both more than happy to help, especially Whitaker. However, it would be another month before their plan could be set into motion.
It had been the first night all five of them had been off together, when Dana invited them to dinner. Inviting Robby over on their nights off had already become common place, so the invitation didn’t bring any suspicion until he arrived at her house that night.
He knew he could expect to see Dana, and maybe Benji would join for once, but he couldn’t quite hide his bewilderment at the sight of Jack sitting at the bar, cutting some vegetables. His confusion only doubled as he caught sight of Santos and Whitaker in the living room, softly talking to one another. As he turned, he raised an expectant eyebrow at Dana, waiting for an explanation, but she simply waved him away and went back to cooking.
Robby dawdled in the space, looking for something to help with, before he was quickly pushed out by Dana. He meandered his way into the living room to greet the other two. As he sat down in a lounge chair, Santos asked about his day off, but his eyes could only focus on Whitaker. He sits pressed against Santos with a shy smile on his face and burning cheeks. He knows that something is off with his behavior, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s not until they’re being ushered into the dining room that he realizes.
It was in the way that he watched Whitaker take Santos’s hand before being guided through the house. The way he huddled close to her and looked self-conscious as he was lead. It was in the way his eyes were unfocused and he sat quietly, not listening to a word around him.
It was in all of those ways that he knew Whitaker was regressed.
Upon the realization, Robby could feel himself soften around the edges as a hint of a smile tugged his lips. Throughout dinner he watched Whitaker closely, of course he knew about his regression — just about everyone in the department did — but he’d never been so close to him during one. He hadn’t known what to expect, so he watched silently and ate.
Whitaker — however old he is mentally — he noticed, is very polite. He always says ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ even with his little lisp, and looks at Santos for guidance with his big, round bug eyes. And even once he’s finished, he places his hands neatly into his lap and waits to be excused. It helps, he thinks, that Santos is so kind with him. Always checking in, always listening, always loving him so. Whitaker doesn’t have to worry about a single need being meet, because he has someone there to always help him. It must be nice to be so loved.
“Robby?” Dana asks, breaking him out of his trance. “Are you okay?”
“My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked,” he snaps, tone biting a bit harsher than he meant it. “Sorry,” he quickly adds, bowing his head in shame.
“Twendy? Can I go color?” Whitaker whispers, pulling his attention back once more. Watching as Santos nods her head and stands up to lead him away to the living room once more.
He bites the inside of his cheeks and looks down at the table, noticing that everyone has finished their food but him. Suddenly his stomach begins to churn and he knows he can’t take another bite regardless. He shoves the food away and moves to stand, not even providing an excuse to the two that remain. They share a concerned look as he leaves, but he pays them no mind.
Robby thinks about leaving, about going and slipping his shoes on without a word, but as he finds himself in the living room once more, he finds Whitaker sitting alone. There’s a magic pull that draws him over until he’s standing on the other side of the coffee table in front of the small boy.
“Can I join you?” he asks in a soft voice so as to not spook him. Whitaker nods earnestly and pats the table across from him.
“‘m colowin’” he babbles, pushing some crayons in his direction and a sheet of paper. Robby picks up a blue crayon and thinks about following the others lead, but his heart isn’t in it, so he sets it back down and stares at Whitaker.
The boy’s face is so soft and relaxed, he sticks out his tongue while shading in his drawing and looks at the world with his buy eyes. Robby’s chest feels tight watching him. He gnaws on his bottom lip and wonders where everything is bubbling up from. He shakes his head, trying to loosen the feelings, but they only bury themselves deeper.
He wants to color so freely, without a care in the world.
As eyes well up in his eyes, he pushes himself up and decides to leave for real this time. Without even looking back, he slams Dana’s front door, and cries as the night air smacks him in the face.