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Theon wakes up to his phone ringing next to his ear. The terrible photo that is Robb’s contact picture lights up the room, and he groans and considers leaving Robb to deal with his voicemail. He can call back in the morning, he’s waited this long without hearing from Robb.
And then he remembers the times he would call Robb at this hour after months of no contact and how Robb would always answer, and he picks up the phone.
“Hey,” he says, punctuated with a yawn. “What’s up?” He tries to be casual, but his heart is beating outside of his chest.
“Theon?” Robb says, and his voice sounds very far away, even though Theon can hear his heavy breathing. “I need you to come pick me up.”
“Okay,” Theon says. Because of course he’ll do it. Robb always did it for him, didn’t he? He rubs at his eyes as he pulls himself out of bed. “Where are you?”
“Uh,” Robb says. “I’m not sure.” The Drowned God is laughing at him, Theon is sure, because this sounds awfully familiar.
“Okay, what’s the nearest road sign?” Theon asks, pulling up the maps app on his phone.
“28th and Monroe Ave.”
“28th and- Robb, that’s in Hornwood.”
“Oh. Um, yeah, that sounds right.” Robb still sounds confused. Theon’s getting his shoes on.
“That’s like, three hours from Winterfell.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Robb says suddenly. “Forget it, I’ll call someone else-”
“No, no, I’m coming,” Theon says insistently. “You’re stuck with me, remember?”
“Yeah,” Robb says, and he sounds a bit relieved. “But I’m still moving, I need to get farther away.”
Theon’s blood, very suddenly, runs cold. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t heard from Robb in three months- why no one has heard from Robb in three months, not even his mother- but he does not like the tone in Robb’s voice.
“Where are you coming from, baby?” he asks. He’s got his keys now and he’s locking the door to his apartment. He practically runs down the stairs to the parking garage.
“12th and Monroe,” Robb reports.
“Okay.” Theon knows what to do. He knows how to get away from people. He doesn’t know what the hell Robb is getting away from, but he knows what to do. “Get off Monroe, okay? Just get as far away as possible. And stay on the phone.”
“Okay,” Robb agrees. “Fuck. I think they drugged me.”
“Who?” He’s in the car now, pulling out of the parking garage.
“It’s a really long story.”
“That’s okay. You wanna keep talking, or do you want me to talk?”
“You, please.” Robb’s voice sounds so fucking small, and Theon starts talking about the past three months. He finished his residency at the hospital and he passed his boards, which is part of the reason he was so pissed that he couldn’t get ahold of Robb. They were supposed to celebrate. He doesn’t say that, though, just keeps talking about hospital drama and his latest patients without using names. Thank God it’s two in the morning and no one is out, because he’s pretty sure he blows three red lights on his way to the freeway.
“I’m so sorry,” Robb says eventually, when Theon pauses for breath. “I missed you passing your boards.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Theon promises, because it is, because whatever is making Robb hurt like this is bound to be more important than his stupid surgeon test. “Sansa threw me a party. I’m sure we could get her to throw another one so you can come, it’s not like she needs an excuse to throw parties.”
“You’re right,” Robb laughs.
“Where are you now?”
“34th and Baker, like four blocks from Monroe.”
“Keep going.”
“Will do.”
There’s silence for a moment, and then Theon asks, tentatively, “Are you hurt?”
“Yeah,” Robb says. “Uh. Small cut on my forehead, it’s not even bleeding. A gash on my arm. Oh, and I’ve been shot.”
Theon nearly slams on the brakes. Instead, he just hits the gas harder.
“You’ve been shot?” he demands.
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Robb says, and it sounds like he’s looking down at the wound. “That’s probably where all the blood is coming from.”
Theon is going to kill him.
“Do you have a jacket?” he asks. “Or a sweater, or something?”
“I’m wearing a sweater, it’s kinda cold-”
“Take it off,” Theon orders. “Press it against the wound. Steady pressure. Where did you get shot?”
“The side, definitely the side. It just barely hit me, don’t worry, the bullet went straight through. I’ll be fine. There’s not that much blood loss.”
Theon is really going to kill him, if he doesn’t die from something else first.
“Steady pressure and keep walking,” he orders. “If you get tired or dizzy, sit down.”
“Can’t sit down,” Robb says. “I was- fuck. How far are you?”
“Maps says two hours, I’ll be there in an hour forty.”
“I was on a job.”
Oh, Theon thinks, he’s about to get the whole story.
“Tell me as much as you want to,” he says, and Robb laughs.
“You sound like my therapist,” he says, and that makes Theon laugh, too. He takes a deep breath. “I was undercover. You know, like I do.”
“Like you do,” Theon agrees, even though Robb has never gone undercover before. Yes, he works for Winterfell Special Forces, but he’s more of a handler. Theon doesn’t know exactly what he does, but he doesn’t go missing for three months and then call in the middle of the night.
“So I was- fuck. Okay. There’s this organization, I guess? I don’t know how much I can tell you, legally. But there’s this organization. Very bad organization.”
“Very bad, got it,” Theon says.
“And I was embedded with them. Solo, because the world hates me. They were mostly drug trafficking, but then they expanded to people. And I couldn’t- well. I got orders from my boss to get out of there, but I wasn’t going to leave these women to suffer when I could help them, and I kind of… killed like eight of their top people while helping some girls escape?”
“Drowned God, Robb,” Theon says, because of course that’s what happened. Robb lets out a shaky laugh.
“It was a golden opportunity,” he says. “Anyways, the women all got out and an extraction team got to them, they’re safe, but I didn’t get out. This was, like, a week ago. And they moved me and I didn’t know where- I was in Deepwood Motte at first, but I guess Hornwood now!”
“Guess so,” Theon agrees. He checks maps. Hour thirty. He’s going twice the speed limit and he’s pretty sure his car is going to give out soon, but he doesn’t slow down.
“They were keeping me pretty drugged up, so I stopped eating yesterday, and then the asshat guarding me fell asleep and I got out. Grabbed my shit and ran, called you first thing.”
“You didn’t call an extraction team… why?”
“Knew you’d get here faster.”
Theon is almost touched.
“You’re an idiot,” he says fondly. “When are they going to realize you’re gone?”
“Guard rotates at 5, so probably around then.”
The 3:55 on his car clock blinks at him menacingly.
“Keep talking. Tell me as much as you can.” He’s trying to keep Robb conscious now as well as trying to find out more information. Robb does- he talks and he updates Theon on his location and fifty minutes later, Theon’s in the city.
“Maps says half an hour,” Theon says, because he’s supposed to be going 25 and instead he’s going about 80. “I’ll be there in ten. Where are you now?”
“61st and Baker. Just take 1st until you hit Baker and turn.”
“Okay.” He does as Robb instructs; there’s some traffic, but not enough that Theon’s worried about slowing down. Miraculously, he hits green light after green light. He stays in the left lane and keeps his foot on the gas.
“Please hurry,” Robb mutters. “I’m stopped on the corner, but I’m out in the open, I don’t like this. It’s too close to five.”
“Don’t worry, I’m turning on Baker now,” Theon says. “Just give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”
“It should take you a lot longer than five minutes.”
“Hell no it shouldn’t,” Theon says. “Not right now.”
Robb laughs. Theon’s missed that sound.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Robb says. “Wound isn’t bleeding anymore, but I’m keeping pressure on it.”
“Good,” Theon says. “That’s good.” He glances in the rearview mirror. There’s a car that started following him when he passed Monroe, and he doesn’t like how close it’s riding his ass, especially considering how fast he’s going.
“Theon?”
“Yeah?”
“Hurry.”
“I’m hurrying. Don’t worry about that. Just stay by the stop sign, I’m going to open the door and you’re gonna jump in, okay? I’ve got a gun in the backseat we can use if we need it.”
“You’re so prepared.”
“I’m so paranoid.”
They both laugh at that. The car behind Theon flashes its brights at him. He presses down harder on the gas.
“I just passed 50th,” he says. “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” Robb agrees. “I’m so ready.”
“Okay,” Theon says. The car behind him is farther back now, giving him some space, but it’s been following him for too long to not be suspicious. There’s silence for another few minutes. “I’m turning on 61st. I can see you, do you see my headlights?”
He flashes his brights, quickly, at the figure of a man. He wonders, briefly, if this might be a trap.
“I see you,” Robb says, and he sounds so relieved, and Theon knows it’s not a trap.
“Okay, I’m gonna pull up, ready?” Theon asks. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t,” Robb says quickly. Theon doesn’t.
The car is just turning on 61st after him- it spots Robb and it starts speeding up.
“Get in!” Theon yells, slamming on the breaks and throwing the door open. Robb jumps into the car, and the door hasn’t even closed before Theon is slamming on the gas. “Hold on!”
Robb nods, slamming the door shut and throwing his seatbelt on. Theon floors it, going straight down 61st, ignoring all street signs. He reaches forward and hangs up the phone, the car behind him speeding up, Robb curled against the door. He doesn’t even focus on his passenger, just keeps accelerating, hitting nearly a hundred miles an hour in a place where he should be going twenty-five, faster, faster, just barely slowing down as he turns off Baker Street and then continues shredding rubber. There’s two, three, four cars following him now, spread out across the road, and Robb has his hands covering his ears. Theon glances over, then speeds up again, and then he hears, somehow, the first gunshot. The bullet blazes past his car, but it’s there, and Robb curls up tighter.
Theon swerves in the road, back and forth, thinking he could maybe get away. The cars aren’t coming closer, but they’re definitely firing at him. One hits the side mirror on the passenger side, and Robb flinches away from the door, curled down on the seat.
They’re almost to the freeway, almost, almost-
Another car pulls out directly in front of them. Theon swerves completely in the opposite lane and goes completely around them, ducking as he does- there’s a constant spray of fire that peppers the side of the car, and he thanks everything above he didn’t let Yara talk him out of getting bulletproof windows.
Theon continues flooring it until they’re well onto the highway and he’s swerving in and out of morning traffic. They’re far, far out of Hornwood when he finally begins to slow down to the speed limit. Robb is still curled in the seat next to him, but now he’s passed out cold. Theon can see the steady rise and fall of his breaths.
“Motherfucker!” he yells. Robb doesn’t startle, doesn’t wake.
It’s funny, almost, the reversal of roles. The fact that Robb was the one that hasn’t been heard from in three months, that Robb was the one calling Theon at three in the morning needing a ride from a city three hours away, that Robb is the one bleeding and covered in bruises in Theon’s car. Six years ago they were in this exact same position except it was Theon in the passenger seat, bleeding out as Robb drove him to the hospital after picking him up when he got away from Ramsay fucking Bolton.
Only now Theon’s a surgeon and Robb’s a spy, apparently, and Theon doesn’t really trust any hospitals nearby to take care of Robb better than he can. So he drives them all the way back to Winterfell, and it’s only when they’re getting close that he thinks to call Jon.
“Hey,” Jon says when he picks up. “Why are you awake? Didn’t you work until like midnight?”
“Robb called,” Theon says tersely. “Needed a ride from Hornwood. We’re on our way back to Winterfell now.”
“Oh my fucking gods,” Jon says. “Fuck. I’m at Castle Black, I can be there by tonight. Is he okay?”
“He got shot, but he’s breathing,” Theon says. “I’m taking him to my apartment. It’s a long story.”
“I’m literally on my way now,” Jon says. “I’ll call Ned and Catelyn- fuck, I’ll call everyone. Just take care of Robb.”
“I will,” Theon promises.
Robb wakes up when they’re half an hour from Theon’s apartment. They’re still on the freeway and no one is chasing them and the car hasn’t given out yet, and Robb shifts to look up at Theon. Theon spares a glance away from the road- what he can take in does not make him happy.
“Hey,” he says, as cheerfully as he can muster.
“Hey,” Robb says, his voice hoarse. “Sorry, I’m getting blood on your seats.”
“Robb, that is literally the last thing in the world that I’m worried about right now,” Theon says seriously, and Robb laughs.
“Fair enough.”
They ride in silence until they pull into the parking garage. Theon helps Robb up to his apartment and gets him on the kitchen table so he can look at the wound. Robb was right, it’s mostly superficial, the bullet went in and out clean through his side. Theon pours some antiseptic over it, stitches both sides up, and bandages it like it’s nothing.
“Am I gonna live?” Robb asks.
“You probably need a blood transfusion, but I can’t do that here,” he says. “I called Jon, he’s calling the rest of your family. Call your boss, tell him you’re alive.”
“Oh,” Robb says. “Right.”
Theon gets Robb to the bedroom so he can make his phone call and then gives him some privacy, going to clean the blood off the kitchen table and tidy up his first-aid kit. Robb comes out of the room after ten minutes with a sheepish grin.
“She’s pissed,” Robb says. “But very grateful I’m alive. She’s not even sending someone to pick me up, she’s coming to get me herself. She’ll be here in ten, she was in the city.”
In the ten minutes it takes Brienne Tarth to get to Theon’s apartment, Theon manages to force some food and water into Robb, and gets several laughs out of him in return. Any anger Theon had at Robb for being gone for three months without a word dissipates (not that there was much anger in the first place).
Robb’s boss is a terrifying woman who thanks Theon profusely and asks if he’d like a job. He laughs and tells her has one at Winterfell General, but thank you for the offer. Robb promises to see him soon, and they both leave.
Theon goes back to bed.
He wakes up several hours later to his phone ringing next to his ear. The terrible photo that is Robb’s contact picture lights up the room, and he groans and considers leaving Robb to deal with his voicemail. Only for a second, though, before he picks up.
“Do you want Chinese for dinner?” Robb asks in lieu of a greeting.
“Yes,” Theon says. “Get enough for Jon, he should be getting here around now.”
Robb arrives with Chinese half an hour later; Jon arrives half an hour after that. He tackles Robb onto Theon’s couch and says that the entire family was terrified, and within twenty minutes Ned and Catelyn and Sansa and Rickon are all in Theon’s apartment, too. They report that Bran is on his way from King’s Landing and Arya’s taking the next flight from Braavos, and suddenly there’s a huge party in Theon’s apartment that he was not anticipating.
They clear out later, offering to take Robb back to the Starks’ place, but Robb insists he’ll be fine at Theon’s. Jon ruffles Theon’s hair on the way out and Sansa kisses his cheek, and then it’s just him and Robb again.
“Are we gonna talk about the fact that you called me baby?” Robb asks with a cheeky grin. Theon groans.
“No,” he says. “We’re not.”
“Twice,” Robb adds. “You called me baby twice.”
“Shut up,” Theon says, throwing an empty carton of what was once rice at him. Robb laughs and swats it away.
“It’s okay,” he says. “It made me feel better.”
“Oh,” Theon says mischievously. “So you liked being called baby.”
It’s Robb’s turn to yell at him to shut up.
Robb talks a little bit about the job, the bits and pieces he’s allowed to talk about. He apologizes again for not being there when Theon passed his boards, and Theon just laughs and tells him it’s fine. They end up curled together on the couch, and then curled together in Theon’s bed, and in the morning Theon makes them both coffee and breakfast and Robb excitedly says he forgot to mention that he’s got six weeks off of work while he recovers.
“So I have nothing to do for a month and a half but annoy you,” he says, sounding pleased.
“This is assuming I let you stay in my apartment,” Theon says. They both know he’s joking. It’s not the first time they’ve done this; they lived together for two years after Ramsay, and they shared a bed for more than half of that. This time, though, Theon thinks it might be a little more permanent.
“Love you,” Robb chirps as Theon passes him a refill of his coffee. He’s got hearts in his eyes, and Theon knows he means it.
“Love you, too,” he says, and he presses a kiss to Robb’s lips without thinking about it. Robb beams at him.
“Baby,” he teases, and Theon throws a napkin at him.