#blood in concrete

[theelectriccat]

Waiting for my AO3 invitation since I deleted my old account. In the meantime, here's a short, one-shot fic I wrote called "Blood in Concrete". TW: for depression, drug use mention, assault mention, and a suicide attempt. Dead dove and all that. Mostly Robby and Jack Abbott (who I can't wait to learn more about).

The streets of Pittsburgh were being cleaned up. With a combination of the sodas (baking and club) most blood stains were washed out with little complication, but it was a different matter when it came to concrete. Some of the stains could never fully be washed away, especially with foot traffic pounding the evidence further and further down into its pores. 

Dr. Michael Robinavich finally had a quiet moment after a series of atrocities, from Heather’s miscarriage to Dana’s assault to the entire Frank situation to losing several patients to an incel in the making turned festival shooter. And on the anniversary of Adamson’s death. He thought about visiting Adamson’s grave, but knew that any last stitch he had holding him together was in danger of unraveling so, naturally, standing 100 feet above a huge city with nothing but bloody concrete to break his fall seemed like a much more logical alternative. 

Robby both loved and loathed the quiet. He loved it because it was such a rare commodity. His stomach was grumbling. He was running around like a headless chicken for such a long period of time that the one protein bar he had at 11 AM was barely enough to satiate him. However, he could feel the bile starting to rise in his throat and didn’t want to aggravate his stomach further. 

But he loathed it because the idea of being alone with his own thoughts was terrifying. His thoughts were destructive and hateful. “If I were a better doctor, hell, if I were a better PERSON, I wouldn’t have assumed the worst of Frank. I wouldn’t have dismissed Dana and McKay's very legitimate worries. I would have actually been there for Heather when she needed me. Adamson would still be alive.”

Adamson would still be alive.

Everyone was right in telling him that he should not have shown up today. He most likely did more harm than good. He balled his fights so tightly that he could feel his fingernails piercing his palm skin. There was a part of him, a slightly perverse part, hoping that he didn’t peel his nails into submission so he could draw just a little bit of blood. Just enough to remind him that he was still inhabiting his own body.

Robby felt footsteps behind him. The silhouette of Jack Abbott came into frame. It was Abbott’s shift now, and Robby left the man with a shit show and a half. 

“I called you twice,” Jack noted, but his tone wasn’t angry. It was one of concern. “Mohan advised me to check on you. She was worried sick.”

“Mohan?” Robby asked.

“I think she thought you were actually going to jump.”

Robby laughed humorlessly.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about it,” he admitted, but Jack didn’t laugh.

“Mohan’s not the only one, Robby. I heard a lot about what happened today. Why didn’t you call me to scrub in?”

“Because you probably had your own 12 hours of hell. I didn’t want to—”

“Bullshit! You know, you’re inconveniencing people more by doing this.”

Now Robby could feel another emotion poking through the cloud of self-pity: anger.

“By doing what exactly, Jack? Being a doctor? Doing my job?”

“Ah yes, because sending home Dana and Collins and firing Langdon when you’re already short staffed and need as many hands on deck as possible is doing your job. Look—I don’t know what’s going on with you, but…”

“Okay, first of all, Dana quit. At least, I think she quit. She was getting abused by patients to the point where she just couldn’t take it anymore. I caught Langdon with drugs. I was following procedure. And I did ask him back when we were in a desperate situation. And not that it’s any of your fucking business but Collins had a miscarriage.”

There was silence for several seconds. That was not my business to tell, Robby thought, and he was right back to self-loathing. He advanced, starting to climb up to the ledge, when Jack grabbed him and tackled him for his own safety. Though Robby attempted to tussle, he was not in the right frame of mind, and going head to head against a former University of Michigan Wrestling Champion seemed foolish, especially since Jack lost not an ounce of that strength. All Robby could do was attempt to verbally spar, though even then he wasn't prodding as much as begging.

“Get off of me!” Robby demanded.

“No! Not until you promise me that you’ll never think of doing that again!”

"And what if I can't?"

"Then I'm going to keep you pinned until you do."

The two exchanged a look and Robby sighed, admitting defeat. Once Jack released him, Robby nodded and sat with his back against the wall. Jack sat beside him. He said nothing, but he leaned toward Robby in support. Robby felt tears pierce his eyes. If he had any stoicism left in him, he would have been able to blink them back and just blame them on hay fever if anyone noticed. But Jack wasn’t stupid. And he wasn’t going to judge. Robby began to cry. No…sob. A sob so hard and full that he knew his ribs would start to ache.

“It’s all my fault,” he gasped.

“What’s your fault? I don’t see any of this being your fault.”

“It is. I ruin everything. I'm awful."

“Hey, hey…that’s my friend you’re talking about.” 

Jack sat quietly, giving Robby both the space and the support he needed. As he felt Jack’s hand squeeze his own gently, it was a little reminder. Of what, he wasn’t sure, but it gave him the nudge he needed to wipe his eyes, rise to his feet, and look back toward the door leading to the stairwell.

“I guess I should—”

“Go home and get some sleep, for God’s sake. Take tomorrow off. You didn’t take today off and you usually do. Consider it a…mental health day.”

“I…I couldn’t.”

Jack gave a wry smile.

“Unfortunately, we’re on my shift now. You don’t get to make that call. Go home. And…text me tomorrow to let me know how you’re doing.”

Robby took a breath.

“Doctor’s orders?”

“Yeah.”

Robby nodded as he made the trek down the stairs. Jack followed, and gave the staff a warning glance to avoid any hovering or meddling. Robby made his way to his locker. For a split second, he glanced at Frank’s. 

He had a lot of apologizing to do, but first he would have to take time to think about how to make it up to him. And he couldn’t do that in this spiraling state. Tomorrow, he'll be available to Heather. And he had apologies to make to her as well. Huge apologies with no guarantee of forgiveness.

He watched Samira Mohan pass him as she was grabbing her purse and water bottle out of her locker.

“Headed home?” he asked.

“Just about. You?”

“Yeah, finally.”

Mohan nodded.

“Good.”

“And I’m taking tomorrow off. Abbott’s scrubbing in. Pulling double duty.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised but relieved.

“Yes. You were right to talk to him. And…I’m sorry that I’ve been riding you as hard as I have. You’re a good doctor, Mohan…uh…Samira. And I should never have made you feel otherwise.”

She smiled.

“Apology accepted. But I can definitely think of someone who deserves a much bigger apology?”

“Who?”

“Yourself. You’re torturing yourself. And that’s not good for anyone. Take it from someone who knows.”

Robby couldn’t manage much more than a nod, but Mohan was satisfied as she started to make her way through the door. She was right, of course. He was letting blood sink into the concrete, and it was slowly killing him.

“Dr. Mohan?” Robby called, catching her just before she left.

“What is it?”

“Do you know where Kiara is? I…I think I might want to talk to her. I might…need to talk to her.”

Mohan gave him an understanding smile.

“I think she’s upstairs in the lounge.”

[nabob1204]

[worldendunit]

to be part of something greater, to never be hungry or scared, i'm excited for you too

(reupload from twitter)

[st-hedge]

When the game opens with the protagonist getting an arm chopped off by the antagonist I know the chemistry is gonna slap

[17-sk-21]

[clownplushie]

various drawings of nika i did over the years

[ramenbats]

Flesh, Blood, and Concrete doodles

[kamuta0]

university lera doing oshikatsu for vladimir tatlin

[babaiii]

CW BLOOD CW GORE CW ANIMAL DEATH (FOR FOOD)

what does he mean by this !?

anyways. do you ever think about how many animals sanji skins and guts? i think it’s an interesting contrast to him being careful around tiny creatures. i do think his mentality of never wasting food helps with say respect to the animals they eat, but still i wonder how he’d feel about it after he’s confronted with ‘turning heartless’ moment. oh to be killed by my rival who i know is soft hearted and respectful and strong enough to not make me suffer —

also here’s butcher sanji yay

[starliteonearth]

I know some people think it's crazy that Mark stayed to guard Eve instead of going out to fight but it honestly reminded me of Castlevania Nocturne where Richter was 100% willing to let the world fall into eternal night if it meant Annette was alive and safe. Real loverboys right here.

[nabob1204]

[temnayajija]

day 6 bugs🐞

[maddestmewmew]

“is being in love with a building objectum if it has flesh and is sentient” debate thread closed after 2 replies

[shortcakeproductions]

RPGMAKER KEYCHAIN PREORDERS ARE BACK BABY! THIS TIME WITH WAVE 2 !! LINK

these will be open until feb 5th! so only for a week this time, due to con crunch!

[da3drat]

green knight screenshot redraw hehe. I don't want to talk about how many hours I spent making imperceptible expression tweaks trying to capture Dev Patel's big scared wet eyes.

[fufufusan141]