Can I have a Jack who realizes that Robby is in love with him and that’s what makes him realize that he’s in love with Robby?
Alright, I hope I did this justice for you babes
Jack pokes the bottle, making it wobble, the shimmering liquid inside slopping from side to side. He leans closer, peering into it to see the thin silver strands swirling around. When it stops moving, he pokes it again, harder than last time.
"Stop that." Robby smacks his hand.
Jack rears back, affronted, "Rude."
"You keep poking things, you'll eventually break something and I'm not paying for it." Robby's voice travels as he wanders through the stacks. Both rows on either side of them are stacked up to the ceiling, full of oddities. Bugs preserved in different colored resin, eyeballs fitted into crystals, skeletal hands holding up candles, and the like.
When Robby asked if he wanted to come with him to pick something up for a friend, he didn't think they'd be going to the metaphysical thrift store.
He didn't even know this place existed.
His head pops up and down as he tries to take in everything around him. Following Robby around like an eager puppy, touching whatever is in sight. There is a lot of cool shit in here, some of it a little scary, but it takes real talent to make it look like someone's skull is splitting in two while their tongue helps hold up a black candle.
Really, he's impressed, if not a little confused.
He gets distracted by a tarot deck painted to look like the night sky in different phases, and doesn't realize Robby has disappeared until someone speaks up beside him.
He doesn't yelp, exactly, simply startles as he steps back.
The person smiles at him, wrinkles crinkling in the corners, laughter evident in their purple eyes.
Contacts, distracting ones too — they take up almost their whole eye except for the dark pupil in the middle. He blinks a few times to reorient himself before looking back at the deck, then to his left where Robby was — gone.
"That's cool." He jabs a thumb over his shoulder, "My friend is looking for something so I'm just going to-" The stranger tilts their head.
"Would you like a reading?"
He breathes in through his nose, rolling his lips before releasing it in a huff, "That sounds great but I think I'm good. I'm just gonna-" He gives them a stiff smile, taking several steps back until he is out of the aisle.
No meerkat appears around the stacks. Jack grunts, walking down the narrow aisle looking down each branching line until he spots Robby's navy hoodie.
"Dude." He marches to him, snatching his arm and yanking until Robby peers down at him.
His readers are perched on his nose. When he looks through them at Jack, they make his brown eyes look comically large, "You good?"
"No," Robby looks back at the book in his hand, "You got distracted."
"Whatever. Did you find Drew's thing?"
Robby hums, still reading the book, "Brother."
"Yeah. The shop person took it to the cash register for me. This is pretty interesting. Someone took a bunch of physician case logs and put them together — look, this one is about Fatal Familial Insomnia but they didn't know what it is. They're calling it the Nightmare Effect." He stops talking, his focus shifting back to the book.
Jack pokes his arm, "Brother, no offense, but some person just asked me if I wanted my tarot read. If you're ready then let's take this book and go."
Robby purses his lips, "Fine."
It takes a few wrong turns for them to find the cash register. Jack bites back his groan when the same person from before stands behind the white tablet. They're shuffling product around the counter, scanning them into the computer. They smile when Jack and Robby walk up, taking the book with a wink.
"Yes please." They nod, scan the item, tap the tablet a few times before flipping it around to show the price.
Only twenty-five dollars? Not bad.
Robby taps his card — declined.
He sighs, waits until prompted, then slips it into the slot — declined.
"Brother if you need me to pay for it."
The worker taps the counter, "It could be our system. I can manually put the card in for you if you'd like."
Robby shrugs, "Sure, here." He hands the card over, the worker's fingers brush his as they take it from him and they gasp. Their eyes go wide, eyebrows disappearing into their well-placed bangs, mouth dropping open with a faint oh.
Robby pulls his hands back, his card stays trapped between their fingers, "Are you okay?"
They stay frozen looking between them, gaze sliding back and forth as tears form in the corners. It takes a few seconds before they close their mouth and turn to the computer.
Jack and Robby share a look.
"I'm sorry." They breathe out, "You just-" They finish typing in the card information then hand it back to Robby. Openly avoiding accidentally touching him.
"Is something wrong?" He stares at the book and candle box.
"No — no nothing." Their mouth twists up like they're holding back tears, "You really love him."
They say it with such reverence, hands coming up to clutch over their heart, look lingering from Robby to Jack and back again.
Jack snorts, shaking his head as he grabs the book and candle, "Is this another tarot thing? I'm not paying for it if it is."
But the worker ignores him, purple contact eyes holding firm on Robby. Robby himself looks like someone just told him he has six months to live. His skin gone pale, eyes open wide, his tongue stuck half licking his lip as he looks at the worker.
The receipt prints out, loud and unwanted in the sudden silence. The worker rips it off, holding it out for one of them to take.
Jack waits for Robby to grab it but his friend seems glued to the spot.
"Brother," He nudges him, "come on."
The worker gives him a polite smile, "It'll take time but he'll find his words. Just wait." They hand Jack the receipt, rest a hand over their heart and bow their head at Robby, "It's easier to clip the flower than to let it bloom."
"Right." Jack grabs Robby's arm and yanks, "Come on, I want a burger."
It takes him a few moments until he lets Jack tug him away. He waits until they're outside in the chilly November air before he rounds on Robby.
"Mike," he waves a hand in front of his face, "Earth to Mikey. Was it the price? Their eyes? Come on, man, you're creeping me out."
Robby still looks stunned, gazing far away even as he looks at Jack, "I'm okay." He then walks past him towards the Jeep. Jack huffs but follows, determined to figure out what just happened, but Robby refuses to talk. Turns the radio up loud enough that the bass shakes the back of their seats.
They don't talk about it.
Jack tries, but to no avail. Robby pretends like it never happened, choosing to change the subject anytime it comes up. More than once he's walked away when Jack mentions it.
He's brought it up to Dana more than once. His friend gives him a pinched-face reaction when he recounts what happened.
"Maybe it reminded him of something." She brushes him off.
If it did then Jack has no idea what that something is.
Robby doesn't really have a lot of friends — a couple from med school, Drew from MSF, and a few from his online book club. Aside from work, Robby has no life; his last relationship was, well Jack assumes, Noelle over a year ago. Since he's gotten back from his half-assed sabbatical — arriving two months early on Jack's doorstep with a busted lip and two black eyes — he hasn't gone out.
Unless he has — but even then the worker said 'him.'
As far as Jack is aware, Robby isn't queer — maybe it's about Jake.
They've been talking again, not much, a few phone calls here and there that Robby has stressed over while half-drunk on Jack's couch.
That's got to be it. Maybe it hit a sore spot, maybe Jake hasn't talked to him anymore and Robby is trying to keep it to himself.
Except no, because Robby mentioned a hockey game he and Jake are tiptoeing around going to together.
Then it has to be bullshit and Robby is being an ass about something else.
Over the next several weeks, Robby grows more and more distant. Their few overlapping days off together no longer include them hanging out. Instead, Jack sends Robby a text with a link to a new burger joint that Robby likes but never responds to.
He offers to come over, bringing pizza and a new IPA he's sure Robby will hate, but he's always given the same, "I'm busy" reply.
At work it's no better. They're professional, nothing could come between them in a trauma room, but Robby doesn't linger after handoff. He no longer comes after Jack when he ends up on the roof and declines the lunch Jack gives him — even though Jack knows he hasn't been eating, because he's been keeping track of Robby's location.
"Come on, man, I know you haven't been eating."
On and on it goes. Never in a rude way — Robby never tells him to get lost or outright ignores him. He just — he isn't his Robby, and Jack can only handle the cold shoulder for so long.
Jack is coming to his wits' end.
Two months after the whole thing, Jack begs Shen to cover his weekend for him. Offers to take the next two major holidays and a Dunkin gift card.
After that he does something a little stupid — he goes to Robby's next-door neighbor. She's a kind older woman who gives them cookies while thanking them in her broken English for cleaning her yard after storms. Jack once helped install a new shower chair for her when her granddaughter couldn't get off work.
He asks her to let him know when Robby gets home on Friday, and shows her how to check her Ring camera in case she's not on her porch when he arrives.
She chuckles softly at him, patting his cheek while telling him he's a caring friend.
If she sends him home with some fresh-baked bread then that's Jack's business.
When Friday night comes along with a call from Adah, Jack grabs his go bag, climbs into his truck and drives the twenty minutes from his place to Robby's with fierce determination.
He doesn't bother knocking, just uses his key to let himself in. He kicks his shoes off at the door, hangs his coat up and goes in search of his best friend.
It's not hard to find him. Robby's place is two stories, an inherited house from his grandmother, but Robby himself spends most of his time downstairs in the den. He'd taken out the fireplace, took down the wall separating it from the living room and used the extra space to put up bookshelves.
Usually his friend can be found curled up on the chaise lounge with a book in his lap, computer on the desk in the corner playing some true crime podcast.
Now isn't any different, except instead of finding Robby reading he finds him sleeping, legs dangling off the lounge, long lanky body splayed out awkwardly. The medical text from the shop is on the floor, a bookmark stuck up from the pages. Robby snores, long, drawn-in breaths that rumble as he lets them out. His glasses shoved up his forehead with one arm covering his eyes.
He's wearing an army-green hoodie that looks painfully familiar. His computer's screensaver looks back at him — it's a photo of them both. They're both in volunteer firefighter gear, covered in soot, Jack beaming at the camera holding his helmet under his arm. Robby is grinning at him, crow's feet just starting to show, his hair still shaggy and beardless.
They look young. Jack had gotten back a few years prior, had just started at PTMC, and convinced Robby to do some volunteer shifts with him. Lizzie hadn't gotten sick yet, they'd survived a raging fire and everyone inside had made it out.
At the time he hadn't noticed Robby looking at him instead of the camera — now, though—
Jack's heart beats double.
A heavy weight drops in Jack's chest, landing in his stomach with a painful lurch. He catches himself against the nearest bookshelf, a sudden overwhelming understanding breaking over him.
The worker had looked at Jack after they'd said that. Their eyes cutting between them both.
He stumbles out of the room, knocking his shoulder into the doorframe. He grunts, curses when he hears Robby snort himself awake.
"Wha-" Robby's sleepy protest stalls him in place, "Jack?"
Robby is sitting up rubbing his eyes, confusion etched into the lines on his face. He runs his hand through his hair, messing it up even more. He smacks his lips a few times before breaking into a jaw-cracking yawn.
Jack stays completely still as Robby wakes up.
"Why are you here?" He finally asks.
"I-" He jerks his focus from Robby's messy hair and sleep-tired face to the floor, "you've been avoiding me."
His friend sighs, shifting until he's sitting on the edge of the lounge, "I haven't been avoiding you. I've been busy-"
"You're in love with me."
It falls like a bomb in the distance between them. Robby visibly recoils, drawing further away from Jack and the mess he unleashed.
"What the fuck." Anger tears his words apart.
Jack folds his arms behind him, clutching his left wrist with his right hand to keep himself from bounding across the room and shaking the man.
"Why the hell would you say that? Why are you here?" As quickly as the ire comes, it disappears. Robby's shoulders drop as he hangs his head, "Leave."
Offended, Jack shakes his head, "Nope. No way."
Robby doesn't look up, "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you."
"Dammit, Jack." Robby jumps to his feet, whirling around and throwing his hands in the air, "What do you want from me? The truth? Fine, yeah, I'm in love with you. It doesn't matter -" He jabs a finger in Jack's direction, "None of this mattered until that stupid shopkeeper said something. Just drop it, man. Leave it alone."
His feet untether from the carpet, moving him closer to his friend, "Why didn't you tell me? We've been friends for decades, man. I think this is something you should have told me."
Robby laughs, it's ugly-sounding and makes Jack cringe away from it, "Don't do this. Don't make this about you. These are my feelings, and I've handled them for years. Now leave, don't make this worse. We don't have to lose our friendship over this and I-"
Two strong shoves that send Robby falling back into a bookshelf, "Did you ever think that maybe I would have liked to know? That it would have mattered to me if I was hurting my best friend? Dammit, Mike, I've told you every detail of my sex life since losing Lizzie. If I'd known – if–"
This time Robby's laugh is desperate, a small feeble noise that's half a sob, "I loved you before you knew Liz, Jack."
His hands fall to his sides, "What?"
"I've loved you since you introduced yourself on our first day of med school. Your hand was stuck in the pickle jar you were using as a piggy bank, and you asked me if I didn't mind having the left side of the room and if I had any Vaseline."
His lungs have been replaced by bags of sand.
"You're the only person who has ever called me that. The only person I've ever let call me that. You were the only one who met my Bubbe, you know about my Dad — my Mom. You're my best friend and I wasn't going to ruin the only good thing in my life by telling you how I felt. And no, Jack, you've never hurt me. I learned a long time ago how to see you as my friend and not the man I love." Robby closes his eyes and breathes in, "I have never expected you to find out nor have I wanted you to. But now-" He raises his arms then drops them in a tired manner, "Whatever happens next is up to you."
When Jack was eight years old, his Dad helped sneak him onto a roller coaster. He was too small to ride one at the time and they had to stuff socks into the soles of his shoes. When the ride started, he was excited, already screaming along with other riders surprised nothing bad was happening.
Jack felt it in his chest first, then it carried to his stomach, this huge swooping wave of adrenaline and fear. For a second it was the greatest moment of his life — then he started slipping out of his harness. If it weren't for Dad noticing, he would have been ripped from his seat. All the exhilaration had nowhere else to go, so it filled his body up until he felt like a shaken soda can.
He threw up and cried all at the same time the second they were off the ride, trembling in his father's arms as he promised he was okay. It didn't stop him from riding roller coasters, but it did teach him what an onslaught of fear can do to you.
How it lingers even days after you've experienced it.
Jack feels that impending doom once again. Sharper than the roller coaster, deeper than when he was overseas, and heavier than watching Liz die.
This was the great gaping maw of misunderstanding coming undone inside of him.
Robby had loved him before Jack was a broken, traumatized man.
Every version of him from the good days to the bad days. From drunken parties in the basement of some frat house to silent moments on the roof after losing another helpless victim. When Jack could barely keep himself upright when phantom limb pain kicked in, when he locked himself in his bedroom and cried for a week straight after Lizzie's funeral.
When he lost it on a patient who beat his daughter near death and got suspended for two months. How angry Jack was, self-righteous in his pursuit of justice, that Robby himself had to pin him down and throw him out of the ER.
All the ugly parts of him that he never thought anyone would ever want after losing Lizzie – Robby loves.
Dawning clarity peels back a layer from Jack's mind he never knew was there.
Since they were damn near kids pretending to know what the world was really like, Jack has always known Robby would be there. Always saw him next to him through every stage of their life. Knew in the deepest parts of him that as long as he had Robby then he was never alone. That he would always be okay.
Hell, even Lizzie joked that sometimes she felt like the third wheel to him and Robby.
Because Robby — Robby's the love of his life.
"Robby-" Jack chokes, his brain bluescreening as his body drags him forward. He tries to grab Robby's hoodie, his hoodie, but the man flings himself back, "Robby." He's desperate, needs to touch him, feel him. Ground himself back to reality.
"Please." He gasps, this time getting a hold of his best friend and clinging on.
"What are you doing?" He sounds so small, so scared, like he's preparing himself to be hurt, and God, Jack has hurt him. He's hurt him by not seeing it before, by not understanding the truth.
"I'm an idiot." He says, exasperation ringing through, "I'm a fucking idiot."
"Jack." Robby grips his wrists, trying to dislodge his hold of him, "You're not an idiot. This is all on me, Brother. I shouldn't have-"
"Michael," Jack reaches up to grab Robby's beard, forcing him to hold Jack's stare, "Shut up."
Time stands still, the world comes to a peak and standing at the top of the mountain is him and his best friend. Robby stays frozen, fingers still curled around Jack's wrists, body strung tight like he's ready to take flight. Jack breathes through his nose then presses forward, properly sliding their mouths together.
It takes a few moments for Robby to get on board, but when he seems to realize Jack is actually kissing him, his whole body goes pliant. He opens his mouth, breathing Jack in and the kiss sets fire. It burns right through his body, scorching his bones, leaving trails of smoke in his lungs that only the moans Robby floods into his mouth can clear.
It's a kiss so unlike anything Jack has experienced before that he now understands what the term "true love's kiss" means.
When they both run out of air and Robby pulls back with ragged breath, Jack tries to follow him. Uses his grip on Robby's beard to yank him back down but his friend halts his advances.
He pauses, their foreheads bent together, eyes locked on Robby's mouth, "What?"
"I don't know what's happening here and I'm very confused and a little concerned." Once again he pulls back, this time getting enough space for Jack to see his careful expression.
Jack rolls his eyes, "I'm kissing you."
"Right, sorry," taking a moment to compose himself, Jack peers at Robby, "I love you too."
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