WanderBy
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Delusional, this entire thing. Like some Make-A-Wish dream. I'm going to kill myself tomorrow; here's what I'd like for my last day on this mortal plane. To be fucked by a man who hasn't seen him that way in years. To stand in the shower and have someone wash his hair. To eat one last breakfast. To be held. And Jack, pitying him, still, because Robby's always been the one of the two of them who can't handle shit.
Bookmarked by WanderBy
02 Jun 2026
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It hits him, then, like anaphylaxis is contagious: his chest feels tight, his breath frozen. He’s mad at Jack for getting so exposed. He’s mad at the patient for bringing in the allergen in the first place. He’s terrified, seeing Jack sweat, hearing Javadi read “90 over 70,” and even as Jack’s breathing begins to slow, and even as his systolic starts climbing, Robby is scared stiff.
Jack mumbles something around the mouthpiece of the nebulizer.
“No,” Robby snaps. “Shut up and breathe.”
Bookmarked by WanderBy
23 Apr 2026
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Jack is pretty sure Robby is about to take a long drive off a short cliff — so he tackles him.
Series
- Part 1 of the healing of the white whale
Bookmarked by WanderBy
22 Apr 2026
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When Robby showed up on his doorstep with some pretty good beer in tow, well, Jack didn't have the blood sugar reserves needed to stop him from making rash decisions.
Bookmarked by WanderBy
17 Apr 2026
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“What, um,” she swallows and pushes her braid back over her shoulder with her other hand, “what are you doing?” Her voice wavers, and she hates that he might hear it. Hates that he might be able to read her mind—she’s never been good at hiding her emotions, they’re always painted plainly on her face.
“One, I need to hold onto something,” he explains, leaving no room for questions, “and two, I don’t want you to jump away from me while you help.”
“Help?” Emma slowly raises her eyes to meet his.
“Yes, help,” he says flatly, blue eyes boring into hers so intensely she’s sure he can tell what she’s thinking. “I can’t suture with one hand. I need you to be the other one.”
“I–I’m not sure I’m the best person for this,” she glances over her shoulder, looking to signal Donnie or someone who’s actually good at sutures. Her brain scrambles for an out, something to ground herself, to slow this down. “I’ve barely been here a month and—”
“And I’ve been doing this for twenty years, so you’ll be safe with me.”
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- English
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Bookmarked by WanderBy
09 Apr 2026