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Jack had been ignoring the ache in his residual limb for hours.
It started as a dull pressure where his missing foot should have been, something he’d learned to work through years ago. By noon, it had sharpened into the familiar, electric agony of phantom pain - his absent toes curling so hard they might as well have been breaking.
He didn’t slow down.
He intubated a patient. Reduced a shoulder. Argued with radiology.
The only sign anything was wrong was that he leaned a little heavier on the counter between cases.
Robby noticed by the third patient.
“You’ve been limping.”
“I’m an amputee.”
“More than usual.”
“I’m getting old.”
“Bullshit.”
Jack didn’t answer.
Robby watched him scrub his hands, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. Every few seconds his weight shifted off the prosthetic like it was suddenly made of hot steel.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Jack.”
A sigh.
“Phantom pain.”
“… How bad?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Not what I asked.”
Jack looked away.
“Seven.”
Robby barked a humourless laugh.
“You idiot.”
“I’m working.”
“No, you’re pretending to work while your nervous system tries to murder you.”
“I’ve got patients.”
“We all do.”
Jack reached for another chart, but Robby beat him to it.
“Mikey.”
“No.”
Jack frowned.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You don’t get to order me around.”
“I absolutely do.”
Jack crossed his arms.
“I can still function.”
“I know you can. That’s why you’re dangerous right now.”
Jack’s expression hardened.
“I don’t need babysitting.”
Robby stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“You need someone who’s known you for thirty years to tell you when you’re being an ass.”
Jack rubbed at his face.
“It’ll settle.”
“When?”
“… Eventually.”
“So until then you were planning to just grit your teeth through an ER shift?”
“I’ve done it before.”
“I know.”
Another pause.
“And it was stupid then, too.”
Jack looked tired now. Worn.
The kind of fatigure that came from hurting while trying not to let anyone know.
Robby softened.
“When was the last time you actually stopped when it hurt?”
Jack didn’t answer.
“Exactly.”
“I hate feeling useless.”
“You are the best trauma physician I’ve ever worked with.”
“Not today.”
“No,” Robby agreed gently. “Not today.”
Jack finally shifted, walls lowering.
“Feels like my foot’s in a vice.”
Robby nodded once.
“Okay. You’re done.”
Jack blinked.
“… Excuse me?”
“I’ve got your patients.”
“You do not.”
“I do now.”
“Michael—”
“Nope.”
Jack took a step towards Trauma Two, and Robby stepped directly into his path.
“Move.”
“No.”
“I swear to God, man—”
“What are you going to do? Chase me?”
Jack glared.
Robby folded his arms.
“You can be mad.”
“I am mad.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like this.”
“I know.”
“I’m perfectly capable—”
“I know.”
Jack huffed in frustration.
“You are unbelievably irritating.”
“Oh, I’ve been practicing.”
“You always bully people into taking breaks?”
“Only the ones I care about.”
That took all the wind out of Jack’s argument.
“… Cheap.”
“Very.”
Unfolding his arms, Robby took a small paper cup from his pocket and held it out.
“Pills.”
Jack stared at him, before leaning to take a look inside.
“Already called the pharmacy?”
“I noticed you limping twenty minutes ago.”
“So you planned this.”
“Absolutely.”
Jack gives him a look before taking the medication.
“You’re insufferable.”
“I’ve heard.”
Jack swallowed the pills, and Robby pointed toward the on-call room.
“Blanket.”
“I don’t need—”
“Blanket.”
“Fine, Jesus.”
“And take the leg off.”
Jack looked horrified.
“In the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Jack.”
“What if somebody walks in?”
“I’ll bite them.”
Jack snorted despite himself.
“You can’t threaten staff.”
“I absolutely can. Been doing it all morning.”
Jack shook his head, laughing quietly.
“You’re impossible.”
“So are you.” And, not unkindly. “Get moving, soldier.”
An hour later, Jack was asleep. Prosthetic off, residual limb elevated on a pillow, blanket pulled up to his shoulders.
The pain medication had finally dulled the relentless burning enough for exhaustion to win.
Robby eased the door open just enough to check in on him.
Still asleep. Good.
Dana raised an eyebrow as he stepped back into the hallway.
“How’d you convince him?”
“I didn’t.”
“You bullied him.”
“Lovingly.”
She smirked.
“And that’s different?”
“Very.”
Dana glanced toward the closed door.
“He okay?”
“He will be.”
Following her to Central, Robby spared one more look back over his shoulder.
Jack would have done exactly the same thing for him.
The difference was that today, for once, Robby got there first.