I think a lot about robby who arrives home from his sabbatical early, several weeks early, and not in a good way. he's had enough, he's reached his last straw and just about managed to get home before he made bad decisions on the roads, and now he's breaking down. he's too far gone, too downtrodden and too tired to care that dennis is still in his house when he gets back.
he collapses and sobs until he gags, he cries and he hits things, denting the wall in places and smashing a glass all over the kitchen tile. he sees dennis there, standing close and looking upset, in the corner of his eye as he falls to pieces. if he had the capacity, he'd feel remorseful that he's putting his favourite intern through this, that such a kind and pretty boy was having to see him crash and burn in the worst way possible. but he doesn't have the strength.
he mourns the fact that dennis will surely run, take his leave, report his lack of stability to the hospital. his grief at losing this young man in his life only adds to his cries and his anger and his upset, and he ends up curled in a ball and catatonic, gasping for air as he spasms from all the crying. it's left him dehydrated and with a migraine, and eventually he passes out on the hardwood floor. he can see a blurry image of dennis's feet in his vision as he blacks out, and he hates that that's the last he'll ever see of the boy. he's ruined every last thing.
he wakes up fourteen hours later, confused and weak. he's exhausted from the sobs and his hands ache from the bruises from his destruction of the wall. he doesn't understand how he's in his bed or how his jacket is gone, or how his knuckles have been cleaned and bandaged. there's water and painkillers on the side table, and the mess has been cleared up.
there's a knock on the door after a while, and robby's eyes widen and he's frozen when dennis walks through the door. he looks a little tired, but he's dressed comfortably and holds warm toast and soup on a tray. he smiles at robby, and its a sad smile.
robby can't help but feel tears blur his eyes again, reasoning with the fact that dennis saw it all- saw him screaming and swearing and punching, saw him sobbing until he couldn't breathe and passed out, saw him so unbearably ugly, and stayed. he didn't run and tell or judge. he tucked robby into bed, treated his wounds, and cooked him warm food.
for some reason, dennis had decided that he was worth staying for. robby didn't know if he could ever be deserving of that gift.