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Jake wanted to scream.
He cursed himself out internally. It was so stupid. He was so stupid.
He’d been messing around with a ball in the ‘basketball designated area’ of the yard, which in reality was more of a concrete space with a hoop attached to a wall, and trying not to think about Robby and their tradition when his sneaker caught on a loose rock and the ball slipped from his fingers, causing him to fall forwards straight onto the unforgiving, cold ground.
He managed to get a hand, his right hand, of course it had to be the one he used predominantly, out in front of him, sort of saving his face. Except, it didn’t do much other than limit the damage to a maybe not completely broken skull, just nose.
So now he was sitting on the concrete nursing a red and very painful wrist while his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stem the steady dribble of blood.
He hadn’t exactly had an opportunity to check the damage to his face yet but judging from the hot, radiating feeling of his pulse pounding in his forehead, he would bet he’d managed to split some skin on his face.
Great. Fucking Great.
Just what he needed.
At least his mom wasn’t home to fuss and worry. She was on a weekend getaway. The first time she’d left Jake alone for more than a single night since the shoo-, since it.
And really, what said responsible teenager who can be trusted to be left alone like a split, bloody face.
Jake groaned.
He couldn’t drive like this. He wasn’t stupid. He knew operating a vehicle with a possible head injury was a danger, not only to himself but to other users on the road. Never mind the busted wrist.
So. He couldn’t go to Presby. It was a good twenty-five minute drive. There was only one hospital within walking distance.
Unfortunately, there was a certain attending working at said hospital he’d been resolutely avoiding for the last eleven months. A certain attending who would most definitely be on shift in the ER during the day.
Yeah.
Jake was fucked.
He knew he made a sorry sight as he trailed through the doors of the Pitt, silently navigating around the ever-growing crowd.
Jake had at least stopped in the bathroom before he left and tried to mop up some of the never-ending blood gushing down his face before grabbing some tissues for the road.
Still, by the time he reached the hospital, he’d long since bled through his pitiful pile and was now a sad, bloody mess.
One hand scrunched around the handful of tissues pressed to his nose while the other was tucked in protectively to his chest, as to limit the jostling of his wrist.
Jake patiently waited in the queue, eyes flickering around the waiting room nervously.
He hadn’t been to the Pitt since-
It used to be his second home of sorts. A refuge for when his mom and her latest boyfriend got too much and he could run to Robby and pretend things were all good.
Now it was just the place where Leah died.
All too soon the queue had disappeared and Jake was standing before the desk. Lupe looked up impassively, “Name and-,” she began before cutting herself off, eyes widening in shock as she took in Jake’s bloody face. Jake offered a grimace, his hand with the tissues raising half-heartedly.
“Hey.”
“Jake, honey. Oh what on earth happened?” Lupe was looking around an alarm as though Robby was going to appear behind her with his weird sixth sense.
“Basketball incident.” Jake mumbled abashedly.
“Go right on through, I’ll page Robby.” Lupe was already pressing the buzzer to open the doors, mind preoccupied.
“No! No don’t do that!” Jake started, alarmed.
Lupe looked back at him, confused.
“Don’t call Robby, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
Her eyebrows drew together in a furrow. “He won’t mind honey, he’s never too busy for you.”
Jake swallowed past the lump that suddenly arose in his throat. “It’s fine, I’ll uh- get him myself.”
Lupe watched him for a moment concerned, before conceding with a nod, attention already drawn to the next person in the queue.
Jake sighed internally, quickly pushing through the door into the Pitt before she changed her mind.
He was hit with the instant sharp scent of disinfectant assaulting his already strained nose. He took as deep of a breath as he could around the pain and simply watched for a moment.
The Pitt looked normal. Like the way he remembered it throughout his childhood, years of following Robby around and clinging to his leg like he’d created the sun. Years of sitting behind the nurses station, entertained by colouring books and vending machine snacks while the nurses and doctors fawned over him.
It was jarring.
The normality of it all clashed with the picture he’d spent eleven months obsessively coming back to in his mind. Of that day. The blood. The screaming. The bodies.
He was a little lost in the way the nurses travelled back and forth, jokes drowned out by beeping and alarms, the squeak of gurney wheels, the shouts of doctors. It was so familiar.
“Hey. You okay?”
He blinked. Suddenly very aware he was standing by the doors like a lost puppy, drenched in blood and alone.
The woman in front of him was young, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and a badge clipped on the front of her scrubs that read Doctor.
Jake didn’t recognise her. There was a time when he knew everyone in the Pitt. Apparently, he realised a little dejectedly, that time had passed.
“Dude. You good? You being seen by someone?”
Jake startled a little, forgetting he hadn’t replied. He looked up at the woman, mouth working silently for a moment before he managed to talk. “Uh no sorry. I’m fine. I just need um. Some help with this.” He waved his arm in the air a little, immediately regretting it when a lance of pain shot up along his shoulder.
The doctor raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. “Alright…” She said slowly, looking around confusedly. “How’d you get in here?”
Jake stared at her for a moment. “Um. They buzzed me in.”
She made a small noise, staring between the closed doors of the reception and Jake. “And they didn’t send you in with a nurse or doc?”
Jake shook his head.
“Lazy bastards. Always leaving us to deal with the mess in here.”
Jake blinked.
She sighed, looking up at the ceiling tiredly for a moment. “Okay, fine. I’ll fix you up. Come on.”
Jake stared at her uncomprehendingly.
The doctor motioned to the left, a ‘follow me’ esq gesture.
Jake watched her for a moment, eyes darting back to the ED where he saw the back of Dana’s platinum hair when his mind was very quickly made up.
Perhaps he could get in and out without Robby ever even knowing he was there.
He turned on his heel and began rapidly marching behind the girl.
She led them to an exam room, one hand holding the curtain open expectedly while she stared at Jake who obediently perched on the end of the bed.
The doctor turned, her ponytail swishing. She suddenly perked up. “Hey, Huckleberry!” She called out. “Wanna help me with this?”
Whoever Huckleberry was must’ve answered because the doctor snorted and replied a little quieter. “We all need the time for charts, hence why I’m asking you to help me make this go by a little faster. Do your beloved roommate a favour.”
Jake picked at his jeans with his left hand anxiously, hoping Huckleberry would get his shit together and answer soon so the curtain would be shut before a nurse walked by and recognised him. Or, god forbid, Robby himself.
Suddenly, there was a gust of wind as the curtain was snapped shut and Jake looked up to see a second doctor now standing in the room.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Whitaker and this is Doctor Santos,” he motioned to the female doctor from earlier, before sitting on a stool in front of the exam bed. “Do you want to tell us about what happened?”
Whitaker had a very earnest face, almost too earnest. He was painfully open looking.
Jake swallowed, ducking his head. “I uh, was playing basketball in my yard and fell.”
“Some game.” Santos snorted, snapping on a pair of blue gloves.
Jake offered a half-smile that pulled at the dried blood above his lip. “Yeah uh, then concrete meets face and,” he gestured up and down at himself.
Whitaker smiled sympathetically. “Understandable. Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up.”
Santos made an affirmative sound before shoving at Whitaker’s stool, sending it rolling towards the wall and out of the way. Then, she wrapped her ankle around a stool of her own, sliding it across and sitting down in front of Jake.
She reached forward, hands hovering before his face. “Can I take a look at this?”
“Sure.” Jack bunched his left hand up in his jeans, breathing deeply to prepare for the inevitable ache that came with being poked and prodded.
Santos was gentle but clinical as she pressed gently under his eyes, working her way towards the bridge of his nose.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Jake.”
She paused, momentarily squinting at him, before shaking her head slightly and continuing with her ministrations. Her fingers felt along his sinuses, pressing firmly into the bone. She stopped when he flinched, leaning backwards with a hiss.
“Sorry.” She muttered under her breath, glancing to the side to talk to Whitaker. “Probably broken. We’ll need x-rays for that. How old are you Jake?”
“Seventeen.” He mumbled, staring down at the pile of bloody tissues on the bed beside him.
Santos tipped his head back with a hand on his chin, pen light directed up his nostril. “No septal hematoma.” She said, clicking off the light and releasing Jake. “What’s your pain on a scale of one to ten?”
Jake pondered for a moment, the pulsing agony in his nose and the hot burning that was his arm were up there as a definitely painful injury, but he didn’t feel delirious from the pain. It wasn’t all-consuming, not like what Leah would have-.
“Four.”
Santos nodded.
Whitaker, who had snapped on gloves of his own, hovered behind Santos. “Did you hit your head when you fell?”
Jake let out a snort. “More of my face but yeah I guess.”
Whitaker nodded. “Any loss of consciousness?”
“No.”
“Alright.” Whitaker said, his own penlight out. “Bright light, sorry.” He flashed the light at each of Jake’s pupils, watching closely. “Equal and reactive.”
Whitaker pulled off his gloves, dumping them in the trash and turning back toward the curtain with a throwaway comment to Santos. “I’ll grab a nurse to put in orders.”
Jake swallowed, internally praying to any deity out there to bring him another unfamiliar face.
Santos redirected her attention to him, feeling along his brow bone and peering at the, now slowed, bleeding there.
Then, she turned down to his wrist cradled against his chest. She began to gently press at the sides, beginning at the bottom of his hand.
Jake fought to not clutch it tightly to himself, breathing through the pain.
The curtain swooshed back open, Whitaker leading the way, a suture kit in hand. “We’ll need wrist films, small facial lac to be cleaned, Santos or I will come back and suture. Some ice for the nose and let’s see about pain management.”
Unfortunately. The gods were not on Jake’s side.
Princess stepped in behind Whitaker, an iPad in hand, which she nearly dropped when she caught sight of Jack sitting hunched over on the bed. “Ay!” She let out a couple of likely colourful curses in Tagalog, prompting Santos to turn her head confusedly. “Jake! What happened?!”
“It’s fine!” Jake started, anxiously eyeing the still open curtain behind them. “I’m okay.”
Princess rushed forward, leaning in to see Jake’s face, iPad abandoned on the counter. “Where’s Robby?”
Jake grimaced, glancing downwards.
“Robby?” Santos asked, confused. “These are just a few minor injuries, we got this.”
“Hold on.” Whitaker said. “You know him?” He gestured between Jake and Princess.
Princess stared at Whitaker like he’d grown two heads. Jake could feel his precious freedom and anonymity quickly running out. “Uhh it’s fine.” He tried, attempting to derail the conversation. “I just need a few stitches.”
Princess’ head swung back to him, eyes wide in shock. “Does he know?”
Jake’s mouth tightened.
“Does who know what?” Santos asked, standing from her stool and crossing her arms.
Princess stared at them aghast. “This is Robby’s Jake.”
Whitaker blinked. Then again.
“Oh shit.” Santos said.
“Yes shit.” Princess picked back up the iPad, using it to swat at the two residents. “Go get him. Now.”
“No! No, that’s really not necessary.” Jake tried.
“Shush.” Princess bopped him lightly on the head, before turning her glare back onto the doctors. “Now!”
They rushed out the curtain.
Jake stared disparagingly at Princess as she fussed around him, gently wiping blood from his face with a piece of gauze and tutting at the state of his nose.
It was all too soon he heard footsteps pounding in his direction and he fought the urge to curl in on himself.
He looked up to see Robby skid to a stop in the doorway, eyes wide and flitting over Jake.
“Jake.” Robby breathed out. He reached for the glovebox on the wall instantly, before striding forwards and taking up residence on the vacated stool in front of him.
Robby paused for a moment, gaze flickering about like he didn’t know where to look first. He stared at the dried blood on Jake’s face, then glanced down at his slightly swollen arm, Robby’s face tightening.
“Jake.” He repeated, hands hovering awkwardly. “What,” he swallowed, still staring with a slightly wild look in his eyes. “What happened buddy?”
Jake gave in and looked into Robby’s eyes, a little taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. He dropped eye contact, glancing behind Robby to see Santos and Whitaker hovering in the doorway, both looking as shocked as him.
Jake licked at his lips, suddenly aware how dry they were. “Basketball accident.” He managed to choke out. The words fumbling their way out his mouth. “Tripped.”
Robby nodded, too fast to be casual. “Okay.” He stared at the state of Jake’s nose. “In the yard? On the concrete?”
Jake nodded wordlessly.
“Alright.” Robby heaved a sigh. It was then Jake noticed how fast Robby’s chest was moving. His breaths were working their way in and out as though he’d run a marathon.
Jake couldn’t find it in himself to do much more than stare as Robby reached out and took his left wrist, two fingers pressed to the radial pulse, Robby’s eyes glancing to the wrist watch on his other hand.
“Nose looks broken.” Santos piped up from behind. “Thinking isolated nasal bone fracture.” She seemed to be recovering from her shock, finding her voice.
Whitaker joined in. “Uh neuro exam was normal. We ordered wrist x-rays.”
Robby nodded absentmindedly like he wasn’t really hearing them. Jake watched, a little befuddled as Robby dropped his wrist gently, hands moving to press featherlight touches to his brow bone. Robby’s mouth turned downwards as he inspected the cut, before his attention was redirected to Jake’s right wrist.
He reached for the arm, gently turning it on the side and muttering a reflexive “sorry,” as Jake winced.
“This doesn’t look too good Jake. Might be broken. We’ll need an x-ray to check. Did you put it out to break your fall?”
“Yeah.” Jake mumbled.
“Mm.” Robby finished his inspection, sitting back on the stool then leaning in, hunching his back a little to meet Jake’s eyes. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Jake shook his head slowly.
“Okay.” Robby let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s good.” He muttered, almost to himself.
Princess had finished setting up the suture tray on the table and rolled it over to Robby silently. Jake looked up and caught her eye momentarily, catching the concern in her gaze.
Just then, more movement at the door. The entryway became crowded and Whitaker and Santos were forced inside to make space for the newcomers.
“Heard we had a VIP?” Dana’s voice called out, good natured as ever. She leaned in, face blanching when she caught sight of Jake. “Yikes. Ouch kid. You lose a fight or something?”
Jake huffed a laugh, a small smile working its way onto his face. “No.”
Dana turned to Robby, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Radiology’s ready for him.”
Robby nodded, standing as he pulled off his gloves and deposited them in the nearby trash.
“How you feeling kiddo? You in a lot of pain?” Dana asked, coming around to stand at the side of the bed next to Jake. She rested a warm palm on his good shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Earlier number given was four.” Santos piped up from the doorway.
Dana’s eyes were pinched when she looked back at Jake. “Still a four?” She asked him, then turned to the two residents at the door. “Any meds on board?”
Jake nodded numbly, nervously eyeing Robby.
“Nothing yet.” Whitaker said.
“650 grams of acetaminophen before the x-ray.” Robby directed to Dana.
She raised her eyebrows, turning to Santos and Whitaker. “Are Jake’s doctors on board with that plan?”
Robby scowled, turning to the residents with a look that said ‘if you dare disagree I’ll end your residency.’
Whitaker stared, looking like a deer in headlights for a moment, before nodding very aggressively. “Yes. Yup. That’s what we were about to order. We’ll just go. Uh. Put that in. Now.” He glanced back nervously at Robby before tugging Santos’ arm to get her moving. Princess followed.
Robby spun back on the stool with a grim half-hearted smile at Jake. “That’s just to take the edge off. After your x-ray we can reassess and move onto something stronger if necessary. Let me know if the pain gets worse though? Okay?”
“Yeah.” Jake said.
“I’ll grab a wheelchair.” Dana said.
“Oh I don’t need that-,” Jake tried.
“Nonsense.” Dana ruffled his hair. “Can’t have our best future doc tripping and busting his nose even worse.”
Jake grimaced.
Dana stepped out, leaving behind a very awkward silence.
Robby stared at Jake. Just stared at him. Then, seemingly realising how strange the moment was becoming, cleared his throat. “So…”
Jake watched as Robby ran a hand nervously down his face. His beard had gotten longer, less maintained.
“How’ve you been?” Robby eyed him. “Well, except for,” he gestured to Jake and his presumably bloodied and pathetic look.
“Fine.”
“Okay. Uh. Good. That’s… good.”
There was a long moment of silence.
Robby stared at the walls like they might have the answer for him. After all those months, he couldn’t even come up with a single thing to say to fill the silence.
Jake was suddenly angry.
He hadn’t wanted to come in, hadn’t wanted to see Robby. He’d been doing fine on his own. He was managing he was getting by, he was forgetting it, and sure he cried himself to sleep some nights, but no one had to know that except his mom.
And now here he was, like some sad little puppy. Like a rescue off the street. Just another responsibility that Robby had to deal with. Here he was, crawling back to Robbie begging for a dad to come in and save him.
It wasn’t fair.
“You can just go.” Jake ground out.
“What?” Robbie stared at him lost.
“You’ve done enough. It's fine. Just go.”
“Go? Jake what?” Robby had the audacity to look hurt. As if this wasn’t just a major inconvenience for him.
“You did it. You came in, checked I’m still alive. Well I’m still kicking, you’ve fulfilled your responsibility. So you can fuck off back to the Pitt.”
“I- Jake-.” Robby’s eyes were blown wide open, his mouth working open and shut like he kept beginning sentences and was unable to end them. “That’s not-.”
“Got a chair.” Dana and the sound of slightly squeaking wheels interrupted them. “And meds.” She shook a small plastic cup with a pill inside, holding it out for Jake to take.
Jake heaved in a breath, suddenly aware of a tightness in his chest.
“Water over on the counter.” Dana spoke as she busied herself parking the chair and locking the brakes.
Jake threw back the pill and took a long drink, hoping to calm his nerves. The room was silent except for his gulps.
Dana glanced between him and Robby, worry forming on her face. “Everything okay?”
“It’s-,” Robby began.
“Fine.” Jake snapped, standing abruptly from the bed and shuffling over to the chair, wrist still clutched tightly to his chest.
“Okay…” Dana said, in a tone that said ‘thats bullshit.
“Can we go?” Jake stared at his feet so as not to see whatever Robby’s face was doing.
“Yep. Back in twenty.” She said, directed at Robby with a meaningful tone. Then she pushed the chair out the doorway.
The x-rays went by quickly. Jake hardly even paid attention, the pain in his wrist was still present but more distant. Still, it didn’t keep them from grimacing as the tech repositioned his wrist to get multiple angles.
All too soon, it was over and he was back in the chair, rolling down the corridor with Dana navigating.
They were almost to the ED when a familiar voice from behind called out “Hey Dana I was looking for you! Got labs back on my patient in fourteen yet?”
Dana paused, the chair squeaking to a halt.
Quick footsteps followed them, and soon the familiar face of Frank Langdon appeared. “Oh sorry I didn’t real- Jake?!
Jake looked up a small, very small, but genuine smile forming on his face. “Hey.”
“Holy- what happened to you?!”
“Basketball accident.” Jake tried for a humorous tone and failed.
“Shit.” Frank squatted down in front of him, eyes roving across Jake’s body. “Robby know?”
Jake nodded, lips pursed.
“We’ve just finished x-rays,” Dana added in. “Headed back to the ED now. Actually, I gotta go check on those labs. Could you get Jake in? Central four.”
“Yeah, course.” Frank said, already rounding the chair to grasp the handles.
Dana smiled comfortingly at Jake before nodding at Frank, then pushing on the doors to head to the nurses station.
“Alright. The Langdon Express is leaving the station. Please ensure all passengers keep their seatbelts on for the duration of this journey. If you fall out and lose any extremities we will not be liable.”
Jake smiled despite himself. He’d missed Frank. Frank was the cool older brother he’d never had. The man he’d met almost six years ago when he dropped by the Pitt to see Robby and instead found Robby’s gangly med student. He and Frank had hit it off right away, and stayed in touch over the years.
Hell, Frank went to his school games, sent him TikToks, they caught up for lunch. He’d always been there for Jake.
Jake had texted him after Pittfest. Twice. The first, only a month after Leah died, and the message went unanswered. Jake was furious with him. Frank has always said, any time, text me and I’ll be there.
Jake had spent months after, questioning if Frank’s loyalty had only ever been to Robby, and if he’d only put up with Jake because of him.
Then, three months later, he got a text back. Frank apologised, sent a lengthy message admitting he’d been in rehab dealing with some shit but if Jake wanted to talk he was all ears.
Jake had replied saying no worries, we’ll catch up soon.
But he’d never gotten around to planning that catch up. He had acquired a dozen or so unanswered texts from Frank, asking how he was doing, days he was free. But Jake couldn’t bring himself to set a date. To make it real.
Meeting with someone from the Pitt meant admitting it had all really happened. That Leah was truly gone.
He couldn’t do it.
And then, basketball, concrete, face.
His busted nose had forced him to confront his demons.
But, seeing Frank was one of the better outcomes of his trip.
“All buckled. Let’s break the speed limit.” Jake quipped, subtly reaching his left hand down and clutching the arm rest just a smidge of too tight, just in case Frank did take him seriously.
Frank expertly guided the wheelchair through the doors and around the chaos of the Pitt, narrowly avoiding gurneys sitting in the hallways and passing nurses with arms full of supplies.
Within minutes, they were back at Jake’s room, which was empty. Frank wheeled them inside and gently helped Jake back onto the bed, taking care to avoid jostling his arm.
“You had pain meds kid?”
“Mhm.” Jake grumbled. “‘s fine. Don’t need anyone else worrying.”
Frank snorted. “The day you’re in here as a patient and nobody’s worried is the day pigs fly.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Do I get a sticker for being good?”
“No. But I’ll see what junk the vending machine has on offer. If you’re really good I’ll smuggle you a squashed KitKat.”
“Tempting.” Jake smirked as he leaned back against the raised head of the bed.
A knock on the door drew their attention. It swung open, revealing an anxious looking Robby, with Whitaker and Santos trailing behind him.
Robby stepped in, pausing for a moment to look at Frank before heading straight to the computer and swiping his badge. “X-Rays should be back.”
Whitaker hovered awkwardly just inside the door while Santos seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Langdon.
The room was filled with a very uncomfortable silence for a long moment as Robby clicked a few times.
Jake fought the urge to make a joke about the tension, fearing he’d only add to it. He did look curiously between Santos and Frank, raising an eyebrow in Frank’s direction, trying to convey a ‘you seeing this too?’
Robby hummed, drawing his attention. “Wrist looks good. No break.”
There was a collective sigh of relief.
“So why does it hurt so bad?” Jake asked.
“Just a bad sprain.” Robby walked over, an ice pack in hand. He took a moment to gently arrange it on Jake’s wrist, checking his face for any signs of discomfort, then stepped back, crossing his arms. “Keep that on for fifteen. Should keep the swelling down. Santos, grab a brace and we’ll get that fitted. Otherwise, try to rest it as much as possible and it’ll fix itself.”
Jake nodded. “And my nose?”
“Broken but aligned. Bleeding stopped on its own. Ice that too, same applies. It’ll heal on its own. Ibuprofen will help.”
“So you’re saying I didn’t even need to come in.” Jake said dryly.
“Can’t be taking chances with potentially broken bones.” Frank jumped in. “Especially not if you wanna keep your good looks.” He winked exaggeratedly.
Jake smiled a little, unable to really lift his mood.
Santos returned with the brace, handing it to Robby.
“Alright. Cut on your head isn’t too deep, will probably only be one stitch.” Robby said reassuringly.
After a short pause, he glanced around. “Which we don’t need four doctors for…”
Santos took the hint immediately, pushing off the doorway and turning to go. “Hope you feel better soon kid!”
Frank also moved towards the door, but he paused for a moment to study Jake. “Hey.”
Jake looked up.
“Call me, yeah? Or text. Whatever. We need a catch up.”
Jake nodded. “I will.” The knot in his chest loosened and he was surprised to realise he really meant it. Maybe it was just seeing Frank after so much time apart, but he was suddenly strongly aware of how much he’d missed their stupid chats and hangouts and he wanted one more than ever.
“Good luck. Careful with that wrist.” Frank smiled once more before taking his leave.
Only Whitaker and Robby remained.
Robby turned to the final resident and raised his eyebrows.
“Uh. It’s just. Should you be treating family?” Whitaker asked timidly.
Robby sighed.
“He was my patient.” Whitaker continued. “I don’t mind finishing up treatment.”
Jake looked between the two, sort of entertained by Whitaker’s unexpected boldness. He looked so, well, pathetic, Jake was surprised to see he had a spine.
“I suppose that’s for the best.” Robby moved back, gesturing for Whitaker to take his place. “Might keep Gloria off my back.” He added under his breath.
Whitaker stared for a moment before nodding and darting forward.
Robby stood behind like a sentry, watching with hawk eyes as Whitaker snapped on gloves, set up the suture tray and numbed up Jake’s face.
When Jake winced at the burn of the lidocaine needle, Robby took a single aborted step forward as though he was going to shove Whitaker out the way and do it himself.
The protective expression on Robby’s face would’ve once been hysterical to Jake, but now it just made him feel vaguely sick. He focused his eyes on a point behind Whitaker’s shoulder, feigning attention on a ‘Rate your pain!’ poster.
Whitaker worked quietly and efficiently, warning Jake before he did anything. Jake appreciated it. He’d been, well, jumpy since… And being in the hospital wasn’t really bringing up great memories.
Before long, Whitaker was finished and he took one final look at his work before standing and pulling off his gloves. “All good. Keep that clean, stitch will dissolve on its own when the wound has healed.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Jake said quietly, suddenly tired.
“No worries.” Whitaker smiled gently, glancing at Robby. “I’ll put this in his chart.”
“Thank you.” Robby reached out and thumped a hand on Whitaker’s shoulder.
Whitaker slipped out the room, disposing of his gloves on his way.
Robby stepped forward, leaning in with a scrutinising expression to check Jake’s stitches. As though he hadn’t just hovered throughout the whole ordeal and watched every miniscule movement.
Still, Jake tolerated it.
Eventually, Robby sat down heavily on the stool, seeming to gather himself.
“Are you cold?” He studied Jake with worry.
Jake shrugged. He was kind of cold. The ice pack seemed to be seeping into his bones.
Robby pulled his arms back, awkwardly shrugging out his hoodie, before draping it over Jake’s shoulders. It was warm with residual body heat and a scent that just screamed Robby.
Then, gentle hands guided his left hand into the sleeve and tucked the other side of the hoodie over the right, leaving the sleeve dangling off uselessly to the side.
Robby sat back, studying Jake for a moment before nodding, satisfied. Then, he took in a deep breath.
“I called your Mom.”
Jake tried not to wince.
“She’s out of town?”
“Yeah.”
“Who’s staying with you?” Robby asked, eyes full of concern.
“I’m seventeen, not seven.” Jake rolled his eyes. “I’m fine alone.”
Robby frowned deeper but chose not to comment. “I can’t let you just leave alone.”
“What? Why? I’m fine.”
Robby just stared at him with a deadpan expression.
“Nothing’s broken,” Jake remembered his nose, “nothing major!” He amended. “And I’m not on any crazy loopy drugs. I can walk home fine.”
“You shouldn’t be alone with injuries like this.” Robby said with a tone that spoke of finality.
“Are you serious?!” Jake felt the anger from before reappear. “You don’t control my life!”
Robby held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “I know. I know. Calm down.”
Jake glared at him.
“Your Mom was really worried. She’s driving home. I called her about an hour ago so she should be here,” Robby checked his watch, “around five.”
Five. That was in two hours. “But I’m fine. I can just go home and wait for her there.”
Robby’s eyes tightened in that way that said he was trying really hard to not let whatever he was really feeling show. He began to speak slowly, carefully like he was choosing his words deliberately. “I’d much rather you stayed here where someone was with you until she arrived.” He held up a hand to cut off Jake’s impending argument. “Just to make sure nothing gets worse. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Jake felt his anger fail him. It slipped out from that hot ball behind his sternum as all the insults and planned arguments vacated his brain and left through the emergency exit doors.
He was suddenly hit with a wave of tiredness.
He’d had a long fucking day.
A day which he’d never planned. Full of shit he definitely wasn’t ready to bring back up.
He just wanted to go home. To get out of this stupid ED and get away from Robby and his sad face and the part of Jake that said crawl over and hug him and he’ll make it all better.
“I just. Really wanna get out of here. I don’t like it here anymore.” Jake looked up in time to see Robby’s face fall before he schooled it back into a blank mask. “Not! Not like that. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“No it’s just.” Jake huffed. His head was pounding. He felt his walls crumbling the longer he spent with Robby. It was like there was an animalistic urge to tell him everything and let him fix it. “I keep looking in the corridors and expecting to see Leah’s blood.”
Robby’s face cracked at that, sadness rapidly overtaking his features. “Oh Jake.” He said, full of sorrow.
Robby seemed to fight with himself for a moment, before standing from the stool and sitting tentatively on the bed. His hip bumped Jake’s as he leaned in to face him. “I’m so sorry.”
Jake sniffled, his eyes suddenly very blurry. He pinched the borrowed hoodie with his free hand. “I miss her.” He whispered, giving in to the three words that wanted out.
Robby’s eyes were red. He reached up slowly, leaning in towards Jake and wrapping his hands around Jake’s shoulders, urging him to sit upwards more. Jake complied as Robby shuffled forwards, tugging Jake into a gentle hug, mindful of his arm.
Jake sat still for a long moment, before a loud sniff broke the silence and he tipped his head forward to press it into Robby’s shoulder, his left arm coming up to fist the back of Robby’s scrubs.
He felt his chest begin to heave with the force of his breaths, progressively louder and longer sobs ripped their way out his throat. He blubbered into Robby’s chest, as shamelessly as a teenager could.
The crying hurt his nose. A lot. But the pain felt right. Like an outward expression of the agony he’d had balled up inside.
Time lost its meaning as the cries overtook him. Eventually, Jake felt his breathing began to slow. He became aware of Robby’s hand gently rubbing circles on his back, the way he always used to when Jake was upset as a kid. It served to push another few tears from his eyes before his body decided he had simply none left.
He sat up, fumbling behind him at the counter and latching onto a tissue. Jake blew his nose and scrubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his stolen hoodie before sitting up. Robby released him from the confines of the hug but one large hand lingered on his shoulder. It didn’t feel oppressive, just comforting.
“I think about that day all the time.” Robby eventually spoke, voice gravel and eyes fixated on the distant wall. “I wish I could have done more.”
“I know-,” Jake tried.
“No. Let me finish.” Robby grabbed his hand, ducking his head to meet Jake’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to you. I was going through a lot,” Robby huffed, “but I should never have taken that out on you. I am so sorry about Leah. And for what I said about you remembering her.”
Jake felt his eyes well up again. “I’m sorry too.” He choked out. “I don’t- don’t blame you.” He hiccuped. “For her- her d-dying. I just couldn’t look- look at you. C-cause I had to- to blame s-someone. Else it was my fault.”
Robby squeezed his hand tightly.
“I just miss her.” He repeated uselessly.
Robby didn’t speak, but his eyes said all that words couldn’t convey.
They sat in silence while Jake’s sobs slowly reeled themselves back in.
Robby passed him a tissue from the box on the counter. Jake gratefully blew his nose, releasing his grip on Robby’s hand and immediately missing the warmth.
Once he was snot free, he put the tissue down, and after a moment of hesitation, scooted over on the bed to sit side by side with Robby, pressing his shoulder into Robby’s.
Robby tilted his head down, bumping his ear gently against the top of Jake’s head, the way they always used to sit.
Jake felt content. For the first time in a long time. It wasn’t okay. He didn’t know if it’d ever be okay again. But he was still here. And Robby was still Robby. Awkward, bumbling, caring, Robby.
“Maybe next time you could come to basketball with me?” Jake spoke quietly, not daring to look in Robby’s direction.
“Yeah?” Robby asked, voice quiet, hesitant like he didn’t want to scare Jake off.
“Yeah.” Jake swallowed. “Need someone to keep me from getting hurt. Can’t sprain my other wrist too.”
Robby laughed. “No. We can’t have that.”