Chapter Text
Day One
Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother
You’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Feel the city breakin’ and everybody’s shakin’
And we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Robby inhaled sharply, his eyes flying open as the familiar ringtone echoed throughout his bedroom. He’d been fast asleep, verging on the edges of a proper REM cycle before the noise had abruptly woken him up. His eyes were still heavy as he tried to blink away the sleep, sitting up in bed and fumbling for his phone on the night stand.
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive
He didn’t have to check who was calling, the personalized ringtone gave it away. Jack had been the one to change it himself a few months back. He had snatched Robby’s phone right out of his hands as they’d been sitting outside the hospital claiming that he’d seen an Instagram reel on how to customize ringtones. He’d been very pleased with himself when he’d been successful with the endeavour, his tongue sticking out as he tapped away at Robby’s phone.
It wasn’t until a few days later when Jack had called Robby that he found out what his friend had changed the ringtone to—Stayin’ Alive by The Bee Gees
It seemed like an appropriate choice, given both men’s proclivity to wander dangerously close to the edge of the hospital's roof. It had made Robby smile at the time.
Now though, the ringtone wasn’t nearly as entertaining. In fact the falsetto of the voices through the tinny speakers of his cell phone was setting his teeth on edge. He cursed as the phone dropped into his lap tangling in the comforter, the song continuing to play as he struggled to retrieve the device.
Robby had only been awake for twenty seconds and he was already in a shitty mood.
“What?!” He grumbled into the phone, pressing the screen against his cheek with one hand while the other came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Even to his own ears the greeting sounded far too harsh.
A laugh from the other end stopped the apology that had been forming on his lips.
“Someone’s in a mood,” Jack snorted, clearly finding the entire thing highly amusing. “Good morning to you too brother,” he added and Robby didn’t have to see him to know that the other man was currently smirking.
Robby sighed, switching the phone over to his left hand so he could grab his glasses off the nightstand. “Is there something you actually need, Jack?” He asked, voice still groggy with sleep.
“Was just calling to make sure you were still coming tonight,” Jack explained before seeming to clock in to the tiredness in Robby’s voice. “Did I actually wake you up?” He asked, confusion laced in his tone.
“Not everyone has the same sleep schedule as you,” Robby replied with a small chuckle that lacked any real humour.
“Well I’m glad you’re finally getting some proper sleep. You deserve it.” Jack said, and it sounded so genuine that it threw Robby for a loop.
Jack had called him at an obscenely early hour. Or so Robby had thought. He adjusted his glasses with his forefinger pushing them up the bridge of his nose before looking over at his alarm clock.
Bright red digital numbers blinked back at him.
9:37AM.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past six. The time had to be wrong. The power must have gone out and fucked with his alarm or maybe he’d simply misread it. He’d only been awake for about a minute after all, it was possible that his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
He blinked, took his glasses off then put them back on.
He watched as the clock ticked over to 9:38.
“Fuck,” Robby cursed under his breath causing the man on the other end of the line to chuckle. “It’s 9:38,” he added rather dumbly, now sitting up properly against his headboard.
“Well shit. You can tell time. You should be a doctor or something,” Jack responded, sarcasm glaringly evident in his tone.
A deep frown formed between Robby’s brows as he continued to stare at the offending clock. “I slept in,” he said more to himself than to Jack.
“And?” Jack asked.
“I never sleep in.”
“Well you did today, it’s a good thing Robby.” Jack expressed his voice taking on a more sincere tone when he noticed the distress in the other man’s voice. “Though, I don’t know if I should be offended or not,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Offended?” Robby repeated.
Jack laughed, it was rare that Robby was this off his game. The man was usually straight to the point. “Considering what day it is…” Jack trailed off, trying to help Robby out.
When there was nothing but silence Jack actually giggled. “Jesus, you weren’t joking you really did just wake up,” he said and it only caused Robby to frown deeper. “It’s my birthday, man. Remember? Having a party tonight… Is any of this ringing a bell?”
Everything came flooding back to Robby at once, the sticky cogs of his brain working overtime to catch up to what Jack was saying.
“Right. Yes. Birthday,” Robby replied, nodding his head in understanding even though Jack couldn’t see him. He swung his legs off the side of the bed, bare feet hitting the carpeted floor. He wiggled his toes against the softness of it as if trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep.
“You okay?” Jack asked, though it was obvious to Robby that there was no real concern in his voice.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just need coffee and a shower,” he replied, knees popping loudly in protest as he stood, toeing on his slippers.
Jack's amusement could be felt even through the phone. “So you’re still on for tonight then? You’re not gonna bail at the last minute?” Jack asked.
“No, no I’ll be there.” Robby sighed, scratching his beard as he made his way towards the kitchen. He hummed, grabbing his favourite mug. It was pale blue and had, ‘Doctors can’t fix stupid but we can sedate it’ etched into the side—a Christmas gift from Dana.
“Good. You think you can pick up a few bags of ice?” Jack inquired, the sound of dishes clanking together echoing over the phone line.
Robby propped his hip against the kitchen counter as he waited for his stupidly expensive coffee machine to boot up. He wasn’t a man who typically spent money on frivolous things but coffee often dictated whether or not he was going to have a good day, so he’d splurged.
“Can do. A couple bags of ice, no problem,” he acknowledged, pressing the brew button on the coffee machine, the familiar sounds of beans being grinded filling the kitchen.
“Thanks brother. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you tonight,” Robby said, easily brushing off the other man’s gratitude.
“See you tonight,” Jack confirmed, followed by the distinct sound of the phone being hung up.
Robby pushed his glasses up into his hair as he watched the steamy dark liquid drip enticingly into his mug. He placed his cell phone on the counter as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. Yawning loudly in his otherwise quiet apartment, body still becoming accustomed to the waking world.
“Fuck me,” he grumbled to himself. He closed his eyes for a brief moment trying to organize his thoughts. He was still disoriented from being woken up by his cell phone. Not to mention sleeping well past his usual time. He really never did that.
Coffee. That’s all he needed, and the world would right itself again.
The machine sputtered to a stop—small flecks of black liquid littering the otherwise clean counter. Robby picked up the mug, the warmth cradling his palm soothingly as he padded over to the barstool to start his regular morning routine.
The coffee was too hot. He always drank it black and the lack of milk caused it to burn his tongue. It didn’t phase him, he was used to the sensation, always too impatient to actually wait for the beverage to cool down.
He hummed pleasantly as the caffeine entered his bloodstream, grabbing his phone off the counter and swiping over to his preferred news app.
Nothing new. The weather, some bullshit politician doing some bullshit business mixed in with the ever depressing state of the fucking world. He closed the app, instead choosing to do the crossword puzzle of the day. The monotony of it helped to calm him.
By the time his coffee was finished, he’d completed the puzzle and had all but forgotten about the unusual start to his morning. His brain had switched to auto pilot as he washed his mug, put it back in the cupboard and headed towards the bathroom for a shower.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Someone had told him that’s how you were supposed to wash your hair a long time ago. He didn’t remember who. His fingers scrubbed the grime away. He’d been too tired to have a proper shower last night after his shift, choosing instead to just have a quick rinse off before heading to bed. He was paying it for it now, his hair feeling especially greasy.
He tilted his head down against the warm spray trying to get rid of the last bit of shampoo. He opened his eyes only to be met with a stinging sensation as some missed product trickled into his eyes.
“Motherfu—” Robby cut himself off mid curse as he closed his eyes again trying to stop any further liquid getting in.
Fortunately for him he was done washing so he turned the water off and blindly reached for a towel, eyes still stinging. He managed to grab it off the back off the bathroom door and towelled himself off the best he could.
Unfortunately for him, he still needed to keep his eyes closed. So, when he stepped out of the shower he stubbed his toe on the door jam.
“Fuck!” Robby hollered, beyond frustrated as he fought off the urge to swipe everything off the vanity in a fit of rage. He took a steadying breath and hobbled turning on the sink before beginning to rinse his eyes out.
It took a good five minutes until the stinging stopped and when he finally could look in the mirror the fog had dissipated leaving only his own reflection. Red eyes, a scowl and a beard that was becoming increasingly more salt than pepper.
Fuck. When did he get so goddamn old?
He shook his head letting out an incredulous laugh running a hand through his still damp hair. It wasn’t an ideal start to his day off.
His pinky toe still throbbed from where he’d stubbed it. It didn’t feel broken but he wouldn’t be a very good doctor if he didn’t check it out. He wrapped the towel more securely around his waist before putting the lid down on the toilet and taking a seat.
There was no swelling. No immediate bruising, and when he inspected the bone nothing felt out of place. It was going to be a shitty bruise and a bit of pain. It was just an annoyance. Still, it was better than a break.
Getting dressed was a much more successful experience. Jeans, T-shirt and a navy blue flannel thrown on top for good measure.
Popular to contrary belief Robby couldn’t actually just run off of a single black coffee. Opening his fridge he frowned at the lack of breakfast options. He needed to go grocery shopping desperately. His stomach grumbled in agreement and he closed the fridge with a soft click making the executive decision to head down to the bakery a few blocks from him. They made a killer egg and cheese sandwich, and Robby felt he deserved a treat after the shitty start to his morning.
He grabbed his jacket and traded his usual glasses for sunglasses. Doing a quick pat down of his person— phone, keys, wallet, earbuds— before heading out the door.
It was a chilly morning, even with the sun shining there was still a crisp breeze that forced Robby to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The fresh air felt good in his lungs and he breathed deeply before fishing out his phone and popping his earbuds in.
He swiped over to the playlist he’d created and hit shuffle— Easy by Commodores started to play as he walked down the familiar sidewalk towards the bakery.
Robby let the music wash over him. He was instantly in a better mood. This was something he cherished. Music, walking, his mind only needing to focus on his destination. One foot after the other. He never left the house without his earbuds, the noise of the city could become overwhelming and he much preferred creating his own soundtrack. It made him feel just a little bit more in control.
He was about halfway to the bakery when a loud voice from behind broke him out of his trance. He took one earbud out and turned towards the noise.
“Can you stop him?!” A young girl yelled absolutely panic stricken. It took Robby a moment to notice the white fluff ball running towards him.
He couldn’t tell what type of dog it was, but it was definitely a puppy. It’s leash dragged behind him, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth with an expression Robby could only describe as ‘mischievous’.
The puppy bounded towards him, the girl tailing behind as she tried to catch up.
“Whoah there buddy,” Robby chuckled, crouching down as the dog got closer. The dog skidded to a halt jumping up on Robby’s knees leaving behind a muddy paw print as it tried to lick his face.
He smiled down at the puppy, grabbing his leash to stop him from going any further, using his other hand to scratch the top of his head.
“Oh my god! Thank you,” the girl panted as she caught up to the pair. “I’ve been chasing him for three blocks,” she explained, placing her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath.
“No problem,” Robby smiled up at her from his crouched position, still petting the puppy who was wiggling his butt so hard that it made him look ridiculous.
“Bad boy Axel!” The girl scolded, shaking her head at the creature. The dog—Axel— didn’t seem apologetic at all, he turned around seeing his owner, tail still going as he moved to jump on her as well.
Robby tried not to laugh as he stood up and handed the leash back to the girl. “Bit of a handful?” He asked as he dusted off the dirt the dog had gotten on his jeans.
“Oh you have no idea,” she confirmed, shaking her head as she looked down at Axel who let out a little bark as if in agreement. “He’s lucky he’s cute.”
Robby couldn’t help but snort, it caused the girl to look up at him. Her face went bright red when she noticed the state of his pants— paw prints, and mud covering his thighs.
“Oh my god. Shit. I am so sorry!” She exclaimed, utterly mortified by the mess Axel had created.
Robby brushed her off, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I can give you money to get them cleaned,” she offered, looking back and forth between the dog and Robby
“Seriously. It’s no big deal. These jeans are probably older than you,” he said, trying to ease the young girl's mind. “I’m just happy I could stop this little rascal before he ran into the street or something,” he added, looking at the dog.
“Are you sure?” She asked, her shoulders relaxing a little as she noticed that Robby genuinely didn’t seem upset at all.
“Positive,” he replied, with a smile that made his eyes crinkle.
“Okay. Well. Thank you again for stopping him,” she repeated, gripping the leash a little tighter. She wasn’t about to let Axel slip free again.
“No problem.”
The girl smiled before giving the leash a little tug. “Ugh have a nice day,” she said, giving a little awkward wave before heading in the opposite direction.
“You too. Bye Axel,” Robby chuckled as he watched the pair walk down the sidewalk for a moment putting his other earbud back in.
The rest of the walk to the bakery was uneventful, just his music and the steady rhythm of his footsteps against the pavement. It took about ten minutes to get there and it wasn’t a moment too soon as his stomach was actively grumbling by the time he opened the front door.
The bell chimed as it swung open and he was instantly hit with the delicious scent of freshly made bread.
Chevelle—an older dark skinned woman with apple-like cheeks— came out from the back at the sound of the bell, a bright smile painting her face the moment she saw him.
“Robby!” She greeted fondly.
“Hey!” Robby replied equally as bright as he took his earbuds out and stuck them back in his case.
“It’s been a while.”
“Oh c'mon it hasn’t been that long,” he teased, leaning his elbows against the glass counter.
“Two weeks is a long time for you,” she countered wagging a finger at him but there was no real heat behind her voice. “Thought you might be cheating on me with another baker.”
“Chevelle, y’know I’d never do that,” he scoffed, placing a hand on his heart in mock offence.
“Mmm hmm… I know you Robby, you’re trouble,” she chuckled, placing her hands on her hips matter of factly. “You want your usual?” She asked not even waiting for him to respond before she started gathering the ingredients for the egg and cheese sandwich.
“Yes, please.”
“For here or to go?” Chevelle asked, looking up from her task as she waited for him to reply.
Robby looked at his watch, it was still early and he had the whole day off. Jack's party didn’t start until eight. “For here,” he said after a beat, already fishing out his wallet to pay for the food.
He put a few dollar bills on the counter, and shoved another couple into the tip jar for good measure. Chevelle noticed and winked at him before nodding her head in the direction of his usual seat.
“It’ll be done in a minute, go sit down,” she told him, slicing an everything bagel in half.
Robby did as he was told, pulling out the metal chair—legs scraping against the floor unpleasantly— and taking a seat.
He pulled out his phone, checking to see if he had any messages. There was one from Jack reminding him to bring the ice to the party but other than that there were no new notifications.
He sent a thumbs up back and placed his phone on the table, stretching his legs out in front of him as he waited for Chevelle to finish making his sandwich.
He watched as people walked by the store front through the large window. An elderly couple holding hands and laughing, a teenager zooming past them on a skateboard. He liked people watching, he always had found it fascinating.
The soft clink of the plate hitting the table brought him back to the present moment. Chevelle had one hand on the back of his chair as she presented the sandwich—steam still coming out the sides from the fried egg.
“Mmm thank you. This looks delicious,” he exclaimed, smiling up at the older woman rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He picked it up, not caring about the heat, and took a large bite, moaning as the cheese melted against his tongue and an explosion of flavour flooding his senses. He’d never understood how Chevelle managed to make something so simple and so goddamn delicious.
“Fuck… this is good…” he voiced, mouth still partially full as he chewed the big bite.
Chevelle swatted his shoulder frowning. “Language,” she scolded, taking the seat across from him.
Robby raised one hand in a placating gesture, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Sorry, sorry. I know,” he admitted, making Chevelle roll her eyes playfully at him. No matter how many times she told him off, the doctor never seemed to learn his lesson.
She allowed him a few more bites in peace before she cleared her throat and folded her hands on the table in front of them. “So, when are you going to bring a nice girl around, hmm?” She asked ever so casually.
Robby choked on his sandwich, sputtering a little as he tried to will his esophagus to quit spasming.
“What?!” He asked through a cough putting the bagel back onto his plate as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You heard me,” Chevelle repeated, not at all phased by Robby’s reaction. “You’re handsome, charming, a doctor. You’re telling me you’re not interested in anyone?” She asked, eyeing him a little suspiciously. “I’m sure you have people lining up for a chance with you.”
“Are you flirting with me Chevelle?” Robby deflected with a smirk raising an eyebrow of his own.
Chevelle frowned, leaning back in her chair shaking her head at his attempt to change the subject. It made Robby squirm in his seat, she always was able to see through his bullshit.
“No, there’s no one. I’m too busy for a relationship,” he finally answered, shrugging his shoulders and picking up the bagel again.
Chevelle looked unconvinced.
“I think it would be good for you,” she told him softly reaching across the table to place a gentle hand on top of his. Sometimes she reminded Robby so much of his grandmother that there was a physical ache. His heart clenched in his chest at the comforting touch. He missed her.
“You deserve to be happy, Robby,” she said, squeezing his hand once before letting go.
Happy.
Robby wasn’t sure if he even knew what that felt like anymore.
He looked down at his plate.
“Yeah… maybe,” he told her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Chevelle noticed the change in his demeanor but thankfully left it alone. She smiled once more and got out of the chair leaving him alone to finish his breakfast.
Robby polished off the rest of his sandwich quite hurriedly after his little ‘heart to heart’ with Chevelle. He said a quick goodbye and left the bakery without another word.
There was nowhere else for him to be. Nothing to do—besides a load of laundry that he’d been putting off all week. He knew if he went back to his apartment he’d end up sitting on his couch pretending to read the horribly predictable mystery novel that he’d gotten about halfway through. It didn’t sound appealing at all.
So, he decided to go for a walk. It was a nice morning after all. His earbuds were fully charged and he had coffee and food in his system. A walk sounded far better than the endless silence that awaited him back at his empty apartment.
Robby wasn’t depressed. That’s what he told himself.
He didn’t need therapy. He’d tried it. Multiple times and nothing ever came of it. He’d sit and talk about how work was draining him and they’d tell him to try and ‘find balance’. He hated that phrase. It was so empty, so cookie cutter he’d heard it from three separate therapists and he still didn’t understand what the fuck they were talking about.
How was he supposed to find balance when people’s lives were on the line? He couldn’t afford to take a vacation or go to some fucking spa. If he wasn’t at his best then people died. He didn’t understand how people couldn’t see that. So what if he couldn’t be alone with his thoughts? If he needed to sleep with the TV on just to keep his mind occupied. He’d chosen this life. Chosen to be a doctor. He knew the consequences associated with it but what he was doing was important. His work was important.
It didn’t matter if sometimes he couldn’t breathe, if panic and guilt and fear made him feel like he was falling into a never ending darkness that he would never be able to climb out of. He had people who counted on him.
He wasn’t depressed. He was just human. That’s what Robby told himself.
Maybe he should get a cat.
He chuckled as he tried to picture a little fluffy companion wandering around his apartment. With his luck he’d end up getting a cat grumpier than himself, and then where would that leave him?
He lost track of time as he walked through the familiar streets of Pittsburg. His earbuds were turned to the max volume, if someone paid close enough attention they’d be able to hear his music as they walked by him. It wouldn’t help his hearing in the long run but for now it helped block out the noise.
He didn’t have to think about where he was going or how he’d get back to his apartment. He’d spent far too many days off just wandering around the city that he’d created a pretty accurate roadmap in his head. In fact, he often thought that he’d make a good tour guide when he finally retired. If he retired.
He was utterly zoned out only concentrating on the rhythm of his feet hitting the sidewalk. It was peaceful. Mundane. Exactly what he needed. It was only when he was about to pass an old bookshop when a thought entered his head.
He hadn’t gotten Jack anything for his birthday.
He looked through the shop window noticing the display of artfully stacked books. He’d been down this street a hundred times but he’d never stopped in to check out the store. He sighed, taking out his earbuds and stashing them in his case. Books were always a safe bet when it came to Jack. Robby had gotten him a book on 16th century medicine a few Christmases ago that he still raved about to this day.
Decision made he pulled the door open. It squeaked obscenely from age, the rusted hinges making Robby wince. The shop was empty, and much smaller than Robby had thought it was now that he was inside.
He felt the need to be quiet for some reason, much like when one was in a library. The smell of old books and mothballs filled his nostrils. It couldn’t be anymore stereotypical. There was a mismatch of books lining the shelves. Some old, with rough and worn covers, and others that looked like they had just been made. It was eclectic and Robby instantly decided that he liked the place.
“Be right with you,” a muffled voice came from the other end of the store. Robby only saw a flash of curly hair before the person disappeared behind what could only be the staff room door.
“No rush,” Robby called back, running a hand through his hair as he perused the small shop.
“Sorry about that I was just studyi—” the person started to explain coming back through the door looking rather flustered.
“Whitaker?” Robby exclaimed, his eyes going up into his hairline as he put a face to the voice. He’d thought the man had sounded familiar.
“Doctor Robby!? What are you doing here?” Dennis replied, his own eyes going wide.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Robby chuckled, walking towards the counter that the younger man was currently standing behind.
“I work here.”
“You work here?” Robby repeated back, even more confused.
“Ugh yeah… on my days off,” Dennis explained, looking at everything but Robby. He was acting like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. “M’not exactly getting paid yet at the hospital. This gives me some extra cash. Student loans and helping Trinity with the grocery bills kinda adds up and Mr. Donavan doesn’t mind if I study here if there’s no one in the shop…” he rambled out, the tips of his ears going a pretty shade of pink. “Sorry… that was… ugh… how can I help you Doctor Robby?” He finished, finally making eye contact with him.
“Just Robby is fine,” he said, trying to suppress a smile, amused at the awkwardness Whitaker was clearly feeling.
“Right, ugh Robby,” Dennis nodded a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What can I do for you?” He tried again, standing up a little straighter.
“Can you keep a secret?” Robby asked, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
Dennis let out an amused huff of breath and looked down at his shoes. “Yeah. I’ve been told I’m pretty good at keeping those.”
“Good,” he replied, a grin now plastered on his face that made the creases by his eyes even more prominent. “Turns out I’m a horrible friend.”
Dennis’s eyes snapped back to Robby's, perplexed by his sudden declaration. “Oh?”
“I forgot to get Jack a birthday present.”
“Ah, well I don’t know if that makes you a bad friend,” Dennis snickered softly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Oh ho, I think it does,” Robby argued with a smile still on his face. “I’d look like a real asshole if I showed up to his party tonight with nothing.”
“You're actually going to that!?” Dennis replied a little too loudly before shaking his head. “Of course you are… sorry.”
Robby raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the sudden outburst.
“It’s just…there’s kind of a bet going on about whether or not you’d actually show up.” Dennis conceded with a wince.
Robby actually laughed, a deep bubbling thing that started in his chest. “Thought you said you were good at keeping secrets Whitaker.”
“Shit… I shouldn't have… please don’t tell people I told you about it..,” Dennis pleaded, his cheeks going red again.
Robby reached over the counter putting a hand on Dennis’s shoulder to stop the man from spiralling. “I’m messing with you kid, I won’t say anything,” he consoled, squeezing the muscle once before letting go.
Dennis seemed to relax into his touch and he offered Robby a shy smile. “Thanks.”
“Do you have any recommendations?” Robby asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he swiveled on his heel to look at the shelves behind him.
“We got some new stuff last week,” Dennis remarked, moving out from behind the counter to join Robby in his search. “Do you know what Doctor Abbot usually likes to read?”
Robby couldn’t help but smile at the formal use of Jack’s title. Even outside of work Whitaker couldn’t help but be the polite country boy.
“He likes medical stuff. Anything about medieval times. He’s a pretty big history buff,” Robby listed off, running a finger along the spine of a beautifully intricate hard cover. It was bright teal with gold lettering engraved into it. He couldn’t help but trace each letter enjoying the sensation against his fingertips.
Robby looked back at Dennis who was biting his lip in concentration now that he had some information to go off of. “We have a few books on the golden age of sailing, ocean life and stuff like that,” Dennis suggested.
“Yeah. That might work. Can I see?”
Dennis nodded, before disappearing behind a shelf, his eyes scanning the row before he made a pleased humming sound as he found what he was looking for. “It’s more illustrations and facts about the ships,” he explained handing the book over to Robby. “It’s a good coffee table book.”
Robby turned the book over in his hands, skimming over the writing on the back before flipping it open and looking through the pages. Dennis was right, there were a lot of illustrations. It was more of a dissection on how ships were made if anything. The drawings were beautiful though, and Robby could easily picture Jack getting lost in the facts that the book provided.
“Yeah this will work.” Robby announced with a nod of his head, closing the book and giving it back. “That was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be,” he commented with a chuckle that made the younger man smile sweetly back at him. “How much do I owe you?”
Dennis took the book over to the counter picking up the scanner and ringing the book through the till. He winced a little as the price popped up on the screen. “It’s sixty two dollars before tax,” he told him, fidgeting slightly.
“Damn. Are you trying to rob me, Whitaker?” Robby joked, already fishing out his wallet from his jacket.
“I can give you my employee discount.” Dennis said, the same scrunched up uncomfortable look on his face.
“No, no, you don’t have to do that.” Robby reassured when he noticed just how distressed Dennis seemed to be.
“Are you sure? Mr. Donavan doesn’t mind when I use it.”
“I’m sure,” Robby repeated, handing him eighty dollars in cash. Dennis took the money—albeit a little bit hesitantly before placing it in the register and producing his change.
“Keep it,” Robby said, nodding towards the empty tip jar that sat collecting dust on the counter.
“What? No. Doctor Robby you really don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, I definitely do.” Robby chuckled, putting his wallet back into his jacket as he outright refused the change. “You were very helpful and you saved me a trip to the mall. If anything I owe you more.”
A blush started to spread across Dennis’s cheeks and down his neck. There was a split second when Robby wondered just how far down it went before he shook the thought from his head.
Dennis seemed to realize that Robby wasn’t going to budge on the matter and sighed putting the money into the jar. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“Don’t mention it,” Robby shrugged, shoving his hands back into his pockets.
“I can wrap it up for you if you’d like.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s no problem. As long as you don’t mind brown paper,” Dennis said, already opening a drawer to grab the materials.
“Yeah that would be great.” Robby replied enthusiastically, he’d always been horrible at wrapping—which was a tad bit ironic given his profession. “You’ve definitely earned more than just the tip then,” he joked, realizing far too late how inappropriate it sounded.
Dennis spluttered, accidentally ripping the paper he’d been carefully unravelling.
“That… I didn’t mean… that was…” Robby cleared his throat feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.
The two men just stared at each other, not sure how to break the unanticipated awkwardness Robby’s blunder had caused.
Dennis was the first to break.
It started out as a little giggle, but soon erupted into a full blown cackle.
“You’re lucky Gloria isn’t here…” Dennis joked between fits of laughter.
“Fuck. Could you imagine?” Robby agreed, eyes crinkling with mirth. He couldn’t fathom what the woman would do if she heard him making explicit innuendos—accidental or not— to one of his subordinates. “She’d have my head on a spike,” he snorted, wiping away a tear from his eye.
“Probably,” Dennis nodded, still smiling as he started to unroll a fresh piece of brown paper. Robby watched as he expertly folded it on top of the book. His fingers working much like they did in the ED. Steady and sure, his tongue poking out as he taped the edges together and creased the sides so everything was smooth and crisp. It was mesmerizing, and Robby had to force himself to stop watching.
“Thank you for doing this,” he said after a beat. Dennis just smiled and handed the book over to Robby. “Seriously, I would have just handed it to Jack without anything on it. This is much better.”
“Yeah, of course.” Dennis replied before something came over his face—cheeky and mischievous. “You did give me a big tip after all,” he teased trying to hide the smirk behind one of his hands,
Robby shook his head in fond disbelief, wagging a finger at the younger man. “Touché.”
Dennis flushed a little clearly proud of his joke. “I guess I’ll see you at Doctor Abbot’s party then?”
Robby’s eyebrows raised in surprise, it wasn’t a secret that Jack was having a party. He’d invited pretty much everyone in the ED, so he didn’t know why he was shocked that Dennis would be there too.
“Yeah I guess you will,” he said, tapping the book twice on the counter in front of him in a gesture of departure. “Later Whitaker,” he added, heading towards the exit of the bookshop.
“Bye Robby.”
Dennis Whitaker. The man was an enigma to him. Robby was twice his age, but god did he make him feel young. In that teenage, butterfly, light and airy way that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Robby liked him, had liked him since his very first shift. Professionally of course. Dennis was a good doctor. Smart, kind, intuitive. He had everything it took to survive the insanity of the emergency department.
Robby told himself time and time again that he was just looking out for Dennis. That he was doing what any good mentor would do. It was his job after all to help nourish the young minds that came through his department. It wasn’t unusual that he sought out the younger man out on a regular basis, that he felt an almost itching need to put his hands on him whenever he was in grabbing distance. He wanted him to succeed, that was all.
Nothing inappropriate about that.
Nothing at all.
He tried and failed to wipe the smile off his face as he left the bookshop. The door closed behind him as he put his earbuds back in ready to start his journey back to his apartment.
There was nothing else he needed to do until it was time for the party. He’d gotten Jack a present and he’d thankfully remembered to pick up the ice on his way home that said man had asked for.
He did however end up switching his entire outfit.
What had started as changing out of the paw print covered jeans courtesy of Axel had ended up in an entire wardrobe disaster when he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
The clothes he’d put on that morning had suddenly felt far too frumpy. He had half of his closet littering the floor by the time he’d come up with a halfway decent outfit.
He tried his hardest not to over analyze the sudden need to look presentable for the party.
It definitely had nothing to do with a certain doctor with tired blue eyes and a warm smile that he now knew was also attending.
No, he just wanted to look decent. Everyone from work would be at Jack’s tonight and it was rare that anyone saw him wearing anything other than scrubs. He just wanted to make an impression as their boss, as a colleague. Nothing more.
“Get it together Robinavitach,” he grumbled to his reflection, adjusting the collar on the deep blue button up he’d decided on for what felt like the hundredth time.
He sighed, fixed his hair to the best of his ability before tidying up the clothes he’d thrown around his bedroom.
There was still quite a bit of time left before he had to leave and there was only so much daytime television he could watch before it felt like his brain was actually turning to mush.
He decided to bite the bullet and do the laundry he’d been putting off. It at least kept his hands busy and his mind occupied.
He spent the rest of the day alternating between tidying up and pretending not to be interested in the 90 day fiancé marathon that was on in the background.
There was an anxious energy coursing through him the closer it got to eight o'clock. More than once he’d typed out a message to Jack asking if he could come over earlier before deleting it and shoving his phone back in his pocket.
He was a grown man. There was no reason for him to be nervous to go to a party.
He knew everyone going, got along with them for the most part. Hell, he actually enjoyed their company.
Still, his skin felt just a little bit too tight, and he hadn’t stopped fidgeting since he’d gotten back to his apartment.
He tried to convince himself that it would be fun. He’d have a few beers, make his rounds, give Jack his present and politely leave à la an Irish goodbye.
Robby stretched his legs out on the couch looking at the book he’d bought Jack that was currently sitting on his coffee table. He couldn’t help but picture the slim fingers that had wrapped up the gift with such genuine care. Couldn’t help but recall the shy smile, the sound of laughter, the adorable goddamn way ears had gone pink when he’d seen Robby in the bookshop.
“Fuck,” Robby groaned leaning forward on his couch and putting his head in his hands. He really had to stop thinking like this. It was getting dangerous.
Seeing Dennis outside of work had felt like a punch to the gut. What were the odds that the bookshop Robby just happened to stumble into would be the same shop that the younger man worked at part time? It had been the first time that they’d ever been alone together outside the ED. It should have been awkward, and sure it had been a bit at first but then it hadn’t been.
Robby had been reluctant to leave. He’d have stayed all day if Dennis had asked him to. He’d have learned the Dewey Decimal System and organized the entire fucking store if it meant Dennis would smile at him.
He was so fucked. So utterly fucked.
He had a crush.
It was childish and juvenile and so goddamn wrong on so many different levels but he couldn’t deny it anymore. Not after today. Not after how happy he’d been from just seeing Dennis.
Robby looked up from his hands, glaring daggers at the book as if it was the source of all his problems.
A quick glance at his watch told him it was only six. He still had nearly two hours to kill.
Fuck. This day was taking forever.
He slapped his thighs and decided that he’d leave for Jack’s place at quarter to eight. He’d be the first one there but at least he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.
He left at 7:30.