Chapter Text
Robby patted Jack’s shoulder in a there, there type of way, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. Jack furrowed his brows as he scoffed, shoving Robby’s hand away. A door slammed shut in the distance. A woman cried loudly from behind one of the curtains. A man groaned deeply. Robby’s smile twitched.
“Yeah, yeah, get the hell out of here, man. I’ll deal with the situation in North eight myself.” Jack gave him a small push in the direction of the exit. Robby allowed himself to be moved. His eyes caught one of the night nurses watching their interaction with a shake of her head.
“Have fun! Let me know if it was a new record or if the Pringles can still holds true,” he said as a parting greeting, before truly turning around and walking towards the exit.
He could hear Jack muttering from behind him, but Robby ignored him. He walked past a few familiar and unfamiliar faces, nodding and greeting those that did the same to him. He snuck past the triage nurses and briskly walked through Chairs. When the autumn air hit him like a splash of cold water, Robby could feel his lungs expanding gratefully.
God he was tired, and God was today a shit show.
Robby zipped up his jacket and grabbed his earphones from his backpack. The soft strumming guitar of The Moody Blues’ Melancholy Man filled his ears as he began his walk. He couldn’t go home, the jittery feeling inside of him not letting him rest just yet.
His eyes set for the park across the hospital, making sure to avoid the day-shifts’ regular spot, and instead taking the long way around. It was pitch black with only a lamppost highlighting the gravel path every so often. Robby kept his hands in his pockets and slowly walked deeper and deeper into the park.
I’m a very lonely man, doing what I can.
Up ahead, mostly hidden in the dark, was a bench situated in between two, over-grown bushes. Robby wouldn’t normally have paid attention to the area, feeling no need to rest at any of the benches himself, but there was someone sitting there that caught his eye.
Robby stopped walking, hidden out of sight, just outside of the radius of the nearest lamp post. His heart thudded in his chest as he watched the figure sitting in the dark, unaware of his watchful gaze.
It was a kid, or maybe a young adult, but only just on the cusp of adulthood. Robby was pretty sure they were male, but the round jawline and soft-looking skin could also make it a boyish woman. Robby found it hard to tell nowadays, with the new generations caring less and less for traditional gender markings. Either way, the kid was sitting on the bench, with their knees raised up and their arms wrapped around their legs. They were wearing a light gray jacket much too thin for the weather, and a weathered backpack snuggly pressed against their side.
Robby tilted his head as he took a tiny step closer. The kid had their eyes closed and was possibly dosing off. Irresponsible, a deep voice sounding like his dead father whispered in Robby’s mind, they shouldn’t be out here where anything could happen.
Robby’s hands flexed before curling into tight fists. His heart was still beating fast, from either crashing adrenaline or anticipation, and his eyes were slightly widened in order to catch every little movement the kid made.
Why was he feeling like this? The craving to wrap the kid up in a thick blanket and take them home was almost overpowering. Had Robby not been as old as he was, as responsible and experienced as he was– had twenty-something-year-old Michael found the kid, he would have already picked him up and taken him home.
Robby took another step closer after taking his headphones out, needing to be fully present for the interaction. Another step and he was fully in the light. His shoes made a crunching sound on the gravel path. The kid did not open their eyes.
Another two steps and Robby was almost close enough to touch. Another step, and he was looming over the kid. Robby furrowed his brows in concern. Why wasn’t the kid opening their eyes? Weren’t they worried about the stranger standing over them? Did they have a death wish or something? Should Robby be concerned?
Screw that, he had long been concerned.
Robby sat down next to the kid on the other side of where his backpack was not taking up space. Their shoulders brushed. Robby wondered if the kid could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Robby had always run hot.
At the brush of their jackets grazing each other, the kid finally snapped out of it. Their eyes opened and shot to the side to look up at Robby. Their eyes met and Robby felt himself get sucked into the wide-eyed look. The exact color was hard to tell in the dim light, but Robby was pretty confident they were blue.
Robby’s favorite color.
“Oh, uh– hi,” the kid squeaked out, their voice low enough to confirm Robby’s original diagnosis. Male.
“Hello,” Robby replied softly, using the voice he used for patients that needed extra care. The women with abusive husbands, the traumatized children without a guardian present, the men who had just been hate-crimed. I’m not going to hurt you, his voice would convey. I’m here to help you, his gentle hands would show. You can trust me, his kind eyes would insist.
“What are you doin’ out here in the cold, kid?” Robby asked quietly, his eyes gentle and not looking away from the kid’s surprised gaze. Robby took his hands out of his pocket to put them on his thighs, to show the kid he was without weapons. Not a threat, his entire body-language screamed, please trust me.
“Ah. Eh, nothing? I just– well, you know? It’s quite cold today and tonight, so– you know? Like, the spots are filled fast, right? And I had to work so, like, I couldn’t claim one in time, you know?” The kid rambled awkwardly, stumbling over his words and glancing back and forth between Robby’s eyes, as if to catch the change in expression, to anticipate the kindness shifting to something else, something darker, and being able to anticipate it.
Robby tried to make sense of the jumbled together words, but admittedly his tired brain could not translate them into anything useful. “I–I didn’t quite catch that, kid. Why are you out here again?”
The kid’s shoulders slumped, his chin lowered to his chest. His eyes though, blue and wide and full of suspicion no kid that age should be familiar with, remained locked on Robby’s face. Though the kid was clearly trying to figure out if Robby was trustworthy, or if he should escape quickly, Robby couldn’t help but preen under the attention.
The kid’s full focus was turned towards Robby, as if nothing else mattered in that moment.
Look at me, a voice whispered in his ear, and don’t you dare look away.
“Look, man, I know I’m– like, not supposed to stay here? But the shelters are full so– you know? Not like I had much of a choice, right? But, p–please don’t, like, inform security? Please?”
It took Robby only a few seconds to piece the clues together that time. Full shelters. Not supposed to stay. No choice. Scared of security.
Oh fuck. Robby rubbed a tired hand over his beard. The kid’s homeless. Or, unhoused, as was the terminology insisted on by the hospital. The kid was unhoused and planning on sleeping on a park bench, on a night where temperature did not reach above the thirties.
The kid was practically shaking as he waited for the gavel to fall. Fucking hell. Was the kid scared Robby was going to get him kicked out? Or hurt him now that he knew the kid had nowhere to go? Or was the kid simply cold? The cold air must penetrate through his thin jacket ever so easily.
“Fucking hell, kid,” Robby sighed out deeply. The kid shifted a little on the bench, his hands tightening their grip around his legs protectively. “You don’t have a place to stay? No friends or family?”
The kid opened and closed his mouth a few times, before pursing his lips tight and shaking his head ‘no’ just the once. Robby was sure in any other situation the kid would have avoided eye contact at all times. He seemed the shy type. But now, with Robby sitting close enough to touch him, to hurt him, the kid kept his eyes firmly locked on him.
Smart, Robby thought proudly, never let your guard down around strange men. Not even me.
“Okay, listen, I’m a doctor at that hospital over there,” Robby gestured into the distance, where PTMC was invisible behind dark tree tops, “so I can’t in good conscience let you stay the night here. It’s going to be close to freezing tonight. You might get hypothermia and die, you understand? The hospital can provide you with options–”
“–I don’t need your charity,” the kid interrupted, a dark frown morphing his innocent little face into something older, more weathered. Perhaps the kid was a little older than Robby had guessed after all. Early twenties, maybe? Or still a teen with enough years of trauma to age him?
“It’s not charity, it’s part of the oath I took to be a doctor, okay? Really, it’s for quite selfish reasons. Will you please take the help? The hospital can look into foundations and other options to help you get back on your feet and–”
The kid scrambled up, standing on shaky legs in front of Robby, heavy backpack with probably all of the kid’s worldly belongings, weighing one shoulder down lower than the other. The kid was average in height, if Robby had to guess. He was panting and his dark blond brows were furrowed deeply.
If only it was a little brighter outside, Robby was sure he would be able to see a lovely blush coloring the kids cheeks.
“Listen, I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. A–All those foundations and charities your cushy hospital talks about? They won’t do shit to help someone like me. Just– go home. Leave me alone.”
Robby stood up slowly, quietly, his hands raised a little in a I-won’t-hurt-you type of way. The kid’s chest was rising and falling with every deep breath. His eyes were peering up at Robby suspiciously. A small pale hand was holding the strap of his bag tight enough to hurt.
“Listen, kid, if you don’t want the hospital to help out, that’s fine. That’s your choice, right? You're old and wise enough to make that decision, right?” Robby asked, tilting his head a little, urging the kid to respond.
The kid nodded just once, stiffly. His bottom lip was slightly trembling, as if on the cusp of a tearful breakdown. He looked cute enough to eat.
“Right. But I still can’t let you stay the night out here and freeze to death. So–” the kid opened his mouth to interrupt, but Robby raised his hand in a stop! motion, and the kid bit back the response. “So if you can’t go to a shelter, and you don’t have a friend or family member whose couch you can use, I guess you’re coming home with me.”
The kid’s eyes widened impressively far, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Robby kept quiet as he let the kid process the words, the order disguised as an offer.
The cold was slowly beginning to seep into Robby’s jacket, and the jitters from his earlier shift had finally melted away. Anticipation replaced every other feeling, a desire to see the kid warm and comfortable in his town house was all Robby could think about.
“I–I couldn’t– I shouldn’t do that. I would– I mean, like, there’s no way that– that–” the kid shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his jaw clenched tightly as he tried to come up with anything else to say.
“What’s your name, kid?” Robby asked quietly, interrupting what was no doubt a deep downward spiral full of fear and self-hatred.
Robby was ever so familiar with spirals of that kind.
“D–Dennis. Dennis Whitaker,” the kid mumbled out after a few breaths were spent in silence.
“Nice to meet you, Dennis. I’m Dr Michael Robinavitch, but everyone just calls me Robby.”
The kid, Dennis, nodded slowly, his wide suspicious eyes softening ever so slightly. His face smoothed out most of the signs of aging, making the kid look like, well, a kid again. Except for the deep bags under his eyes. Those probably couldn’t be smoothed over, even after a week of sleeping in Robby’s extremely comfortable, extremely expensive bed.
“Will you please come home with me, Dennis? Just for the night? We can look into other options tomorrow, hm? What do you say?” Robby said, before slowly lifting his hand to put it on the kid’s free shoulder. Though the kid froze for half a second, his eyes darting from Robby’s face to the hand curling into his boney shoulder, the kid soon relaxed completely.
Touch starved, Robby thought as he bent his head down a little to meet Dennis’ eyes and take his attention away from the hand on his shoulder. We’ll fix that soon enough, he smiled kindly.
The kid, Dennis, took a few shaky breaths, before finally coming to a decision. Robby bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything that could make the kid change his mind.
“O–Okay, Dr Robby. Just– like, just for tonight? Right?”
Robby grinned and nodded. His hand tightened its hold on the kid’s shoulder, as he turned the kid around to begin their walk to Robby’s home. Robby glanced over his shoulder to the bench, to make sure nothing was left behind. No proof of their interaction.
“Sure, kid, just for tonight, and then we’ll see,” Robby reassured softly, kindly. The kid’s curls gleamed gold in the faint street lights, and Robby could feel his heart skip a beat. Robby swallowed thickly as he saw Dennis nodding shyly.
Filthy liar, the voice in his mind called out, you’re not letting the kid go after tonight, not when you finally found someone who truly needs you.
Robby ignored the voice, smiling softly at Dennis when they made brief eye contact. The kid flushed and quickly glanced at the ground, finally comfortable enough around Robby to look away, confident that Robby wouldn’t hurt him.
God, Robby really hoped he wouldn’t.