Chapter Text
Robby’s feet drag along the sidewalk, his feet heavy with exhaustion despite waking up only an hour earlier. The cup of coffee in his hand warms him against the late-fall chill that had washed over Pittsburgh.
The only thing that was helping him push through this week was the fact that the weekend was waiting for him. In just a day's time, he would have two whole days off.
Two days where he could have almost completely uninterrupted sleep. He could just exist in the silence of his apartment- where nobody was expecting anything of him.
Where the eyes of those damn cartoon animals in peds couldn’t follow.
It’s been only a month or two since the PittFest shooting. The puddles of blood in the hallways, the bodies, the screaming… the sights and sounds of that day are still carved deeply into his mind.
He isn’t sure that they will ever go away.
“Dr. Robinavitch?” A quiet, meek voice calls from behind him. “Is it possible to talk for a second?”
Robby sighs quietly, slowing his pace just a tad. If he had half a mind, he would just keep walking- pretend that he didn’t hear whoever it was that wanted to talk to him.
He isn’t sure that he has the mental capacity to deal with this right now.
But he stops anyway.
When he turns, he finds a girl draped in a large black hoodie. Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five, but the bags under her eyes threaten to make her look older than that.
“How can I help you?” He tries to keep his voice clear of any annoyance. The last thing he needs is for Gloria to hear about an unpleasant interaction with a former patient. She’s already up his ass as it is.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. But, um- my father was one of the patients that you treated during the PittFest shooting. Andrew Kelly?”
Robby swallows, taking a deep breath.
Andrew Kelly.
Forty-two years old. GSW to the chest- the bullet pierced a lung. The poor bastard drowned in his own blood before they were even able to help him.
“Yeah… I-I remember.” He pauses, taking another deep breath. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you… Do you mind if I ask some questions?”
Robby nods, starting back on his path again. He was on the sidewalk just inside the ambulance bay now. “Shoot.”
“How did it feel when you let him die?”
Robby freezes, his blood running cold. He barely has time to register the girl’s words before loud cracks rang through the air.
One.
Two.
Three.
Pain sears through his body as if he’s been struck by lightning. His coffee falls from his hand, the paper cup making no more sound than a dull thud as it hits the ground.
His knees tremble for a moment before they give out completely. The rough texture of the sidewalk digs into his palms as he tries to keep himself upright.
Robby’s chest heaves as he tries to force himself up to his feet. He spies the doors to the pitt through blurry vision.
He’s not that far.
He…
He can totally make it.
He just needs to-
It takes all that it has in him not to cry out as he finally reaches a standing position. He manages several shaky steps before he collapses again.
It’s almost cruel, really. Y’know- where he landed.
His right arm is outstretched in front of him, just where he knew someone inside would be able to see it. But he would know better than anyone that even at this early in the morning, everybody that would be able to help him would be too busy to notice.
Robby feels his eyelids becoming heavy, as if weights had been magically attached to them.
And they somehow get heavier with each blink.
Awake.
He needs to stay awake, the doctor part of his brain tells him. Passing out with this much blood loss would mean disaster.
His hands fumble for his phone, but it’s trapped in between his thigh and the sidewalk. He tries to push himself to lay on his back, but when he goes to move his hands- he can’t even make a finger twitch.
Fuck.
Oh, fuck.
He’s not-
His co-workers… his family is going to find him dead on this sidewalk.
They’re going to find him just outside the place where they would have been able to save him.
And he would have had more time to panic, had it been up to him.
But Robby’s body takes matters into its own hands.
And his eyes slide shut.
— — — — — —
“Jack, there’s a car crash victim on the way with an ETA of five minutes. Do you mind sticking around to handle it? I know your shift is over, but it will be just until Robby gets here.” Dana says as she leans on her workstation, glasses low on her nose.
“Have you heard from him? He’s never late like this.”
Dana shakes her head. “Nope. Nothing.”
“He probably just slept through his alarm.” Jack sighs as he reaches for a gown. “If that’s the case, I’m just glad he’s sleeping.”
He’s really tired and wants nothing more than to go home.
But he’d cover for Robby.
Hell, the guy has done it for him countless times.
Jack walks through the ambulance bay doors as he gloves up. However, as he looks up from his hands, he stumbles over something.
Once he straightens himself, he turns around and his eyes widen.
The first thing he sees is the blood.
There’s a trail of it leading down the sidewalk, all of it eventually culminating in the growing puddle surrounding the body.
Shit.
He runs back to the doors. “I need a gurney! Now!”
Jack kneels next to the person, fingers immediately searching for a pulse.
Weak.
Thready.
But still there.
But something draws his eyes to the man’s right wrist.
A watch.
A very familiar watch.
No.
No. No. No.
“Robby? Hey, brother. C’mon- open your eyes.” Jack pleads as he tries to push his panic down. He resists every urge that he has to move him. He doesn’t know what his injuries are. Or where they were. “C’mon, man. You need to wake up.”
However, the only response he receives is the sound of shallow breathing coming from the man in front of him.
Robby.
God, who could do something like this?
Jack hears the doors slide open, shortly followed by the wheels of an oncoming gurney.
“Oh. Oh my god.” He hears a voice say. Mel. “...is that?”
“We need to get him inside. There’s too much blood for there to be just one wound.” Jack doesn’t quite answer her. Not directly at least. “I don’t know how long he’s been out here.”
Mel kneels on Robby’s other side, pulling on her own set of gloves. “I’ll wait for your go ahead.”
Jack nods, breathing deeply. He pries his hands underneath Robby’s torso while Mel grabs his shoulder.
“Ready?” He asks, waiting for Mel’s nod before counting down. “Alright. Three, two,... one!”
Once Robby is flipped over, the duo is greeted with Robby’s pale face and three gunshot wounds.
Shit.
“I’m- I’m…” Mel starts, clearing her throat. “I’m counting three GSW’s. Two in the stomach and one in the upper left thigh. It doesn’t look like there is any arterial bleeding, but I’m not sure.”
He nods again. “We need to get him inside and stop the bleeding.”
With a few quick movements, Mel and Jack heave Robby up onto the gurney. The blood stains the fresh white sheets almost immediately.
“Oh, shit!” Dana curses as they wheel through the doors. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. I went outside to wait for the car crash vic and he was laying on the sidewalk. Looks like he was shot somewhere just outside the building.” Jack replies as he pushes down on Robby’s thigh. “Call upstairs and see if there’s an OR ready. Call in whatever favors you have to. He needs one. Now.”
Dana nods, quickly taking off towards the workstation.
Jack sees another body run up out of the corner of his eye. Whittaker.
“How can I help?” The kid asks, staring wide eyed at his bloodied mentor.
“Put pressure on his stomach. We need to make sure that he doesn’t bleed out before we can get him to an OR.” Mel commands, wheeling them into an empty trauma room.
However, the second that Whittaker gets anywhere near Robby’s wounds- the older man’s eyes shoot open.
“Oh…” Robby slurs, eyes roaming around the room lazily before settling on Jack. “Wh’... the fuck?”
“Hello, sleeping beauty!” Jack chimes, trying desperately to cover up the fear in his voice. “Are you able to tell us what happened to you?”
“Woman… gun.”
“There was a woman with a gun? Do you know where she went?”
Robby shakes his head, eyes threatening to roll.
“Okay. You don’t know.” Jack breathes. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
“She… daughter. PittFest patient.”
“The woman was a daughter of one of your PittFest patients?”
Robby nods. Christ, it looks like his face is getting paler by the second underneath the harsh hospital lighting. “Father was one of the six…”
Fuck.
This was targeted.
“Can you tell us what she looked like? Or what her dad’s name was?”
“Black… hoodie.” Robby coughs, closing his eyes. “Dark hair. Her dad- Andrew…”
Jack picks up on how Robby’s breathing slows almost immediately. “Robby? Hey, I’m gonna need you to open your eyes. What was the guy's last name?”
No response.
“Robby? Answer me, brother. What was the patient’s last name?”
Nothing.
Before he had the time to do anything else, Dana appeared in the doorway. “They’re ready for you in OR seven.”
“Thank god. Thank you, Dana.” Jack sighs. “Get us moving, Dr. King.”
Mel nods quietly, backing them out of the room and heading towards the elevator. Jack feels everyone’s eyes on them as they pass.
Despite how much Robby refuses to admit it, he’s the glue that holds this place together. If they lost him today- it’d all fall apart.
Seriously.
Jack doesn’t know what they’d do.
So Robby has to make it.
Otherwise, he would drag him back from the dead himself.
God wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.