Chapter Text
Why did I decide to do this?
Robby’s been asking himself the same thing for about 2 months now. The desert is hot and dusty and his everything is gritty. He can feel the dirt every time he so much as blinks.
And don’t get him started on the work. It’s non-stop. They’re constantly moving. Giving vaccines and basic antibiotics and fluids and it’s never going to be enough. It’s always loud too. There almost always distant gunfire and explosions and people crying from pain or sickness or loss.
Robby’s never felt better.
His coworkers were shocked when he told them he was signing up for MSF. He was surprised himself when an old friend from med school reached out and invited him. He was even more surprised when he realized he actually wanted to go despite said friend backing out of the trip. He had immediately reached out to Jack asking him what he thought about it and had gotten a very strong “Fuck no!” In response but since when does Robby ever listen to Jack Abbott?
So here he’s been. The best and worst two months of his life.
He’s been able to keep in contact with Jack far easier now. They’ve actually run into each other a few times. The first time they saw each other, Jack had tackled him, pinned him to the ground and yelled at him for so long that one of his squad mates actually got involved and pulled him off. Jack had then given him a massive hug and hadn’t let go for what was probably a little bit of a suspicious amount of time. Robby didn’t bring it up.
His most recent letter told Robby that his unit was once again coming close to where Robby was currently set up. Some tiny village with far too little resources, trying to help as many of the residents as they can. The troops were supposed to have arrived yesterday but Robby hasn’t seen anyone yet. Unfortunately, the US troops moving towards them means that the fighting is too, which means they’re going to have to move yet again to avoid as much of the direct conflict as possible.
There's apparently a city about two hours northeast from here with a trauma center set up that they’re supposed to be heading to. Robby’s looking forward to doing more of what he was doing back home. He loves helping the people here with the smaller more mundane stuff but his heart has always been held by trauma medicine. It’ll be nice to test his skills out again.
He’s busy cleaning up his corner in the clinic when he hears the rickety old door creak open and heavy boots step into the room.
“You got any extra QuickClot? One of the new boys thought it would be a good idea to open up mine to use on his finger when he cut himself on a can.” A dry, tired voice called out. Robby turned around smiling
“Hey, Jack.” He says warmly. Drinking in the sight of his friend, healthy and relatively safe. He meets Jack halfway and pulls him in for a hug.
“Ugh you smell so bad.” Robby grumbles into his shoulder, not trying at all to get away. Jack laughs and pulls back.
“At least I have the excuse of walking for 2 miles to get here from my set up. What’s your excuse?” Jack gripes back. Robby just punches him lightly in the arm. Jack rocks back with the momentum dramatically grabbing at his shoulder.
“Oww!”
“Shut up, you're fine. You guys are two miles out?”
“Yeah we actually passed you and set up a little further along to make sure you guys won’t get hit by anything before we do. But anyways I got my stuff set up early so I have the rest of the night off, so I back tracked.”
Ah that explains why he’s just in his undershirt and camo pants rather than his usual full set up.
“But I was being serious about needing some hemostatics, if you have them.” Jack adds wryly.
“I don’t have any extras here but if you follow me back to our base camp I should have a couple you can take.” Robby says over his shoulder as he continues packing up his stuff. Jack easily agrees and helps him carry his equipment back to his base camp.
It’s nothing glamorous, not that either of them are unused to that at this point. Just a tent with a few cots spread around. Robby’s heard rumor about the next city having an actual building for them to stay in. He’s hesitant to get his hopes up.
“Well it is mildly comforting to know that you’re not living in luxury and leaving me to suffer all by myself.” Jack commented, scanning the area.
Robby laughed a little “Nah, I could never leave you to suffer. You’d find a way to make it my problem anyways.” He tosses Jack two packs of QuickClot. Jack fumbles both of them.
“Ooo! Good catch.” Robby smirks at him. Jack bends down to pick up the pack and flips Robby off.
“When are you headed out?” Jack asks.
“Not tomorrow but the next. We’re trying to stay out of the high conflict areas.”
Jack nods, picking at the corner of one of the packages.
“Be careful man. I’m serious. As much as I love seeing you on occasion, I really hate that you’re here.”
Robby raises an eye at him.
“I’m not the one getting shot at, Jack.”
“I know, just-“ he runs a hand through his sweaty curls. “Secure your own mask first before helping others, or whatever the flight attendants say. Scene safety bullshit and all that.”
“You know we’re purposely moving away from the fighting right?” Robby reminds him.
“Yes I know that, asshole.” Jack rolls his eyes and sighs a heavy sigh. “You get what I’m saying though?”
Robby nods. Because he does understand the concept even if he doesn’t fully believe in it.
“Good. Now I wish I could stay, but I’ve still got a two mile hike back to my camp and I don’t really want to be out after dark.” Jack says, as he hikes his bag a little higher on his shoulders.
“Yeah of course. You got enough water on you?” Robby asks, ever the doctor.
“I could use a top off.”
Robby leads him to the well they've been given access to and fills the water bottle, flicking some of the errant drops at Jack's face. Jack shoves at him lightly and asks him to walk him towards the road out of the village. A few of the kids stop and stare at the pair of them, smiling at Robby but not approaching with Jack walking next to him. Jack notices and attempts a wave at a group of them, only for them to duck behind the nearest object. Robby has to ignore the flash of sadness and hurt in Jack's eye.
As they reach the border of civilization, Robby slows them to a stop, hesitant to say goodbye just yet. Jack takes a breath, looking over at him with sad eyes, looking much too like that young med student Robby met him as.
“Be safe, Robby. I’m serious.” Jack tells him, staring at him hard.
“You too.” Robby meets his hard stare head on. Jack smirks.
“I’ll do my best.” He replies.
Jack pulls him in for a quick hug.
“If you get the chance to stop by our camp on your way out, come find me yeah?” He says in Robby’s ear. Robby hums his agreement and pulls back, patting Jack's arm.
With that Jack starts walking off, turning back to wave once he gets a few feet away. Robby lifts his hand and waves back, the now familiar lump in his throat swelling at the goodbye. He silently vows to catch him on his way to the city. He watches for a jacks retreating form for a while longer before finally heading back to the village center. Dinner should be ready.
He meets up with the other MFS volunteers, smiling and good naturedly takes the teasing they give him about being late.
After dinner he gets pulled into a soccer game by a few of the kids hanging around the group. He’s terrible and has only picked up a few words so he has to mime most of the time to communicate but they don’t seem to mind. As he’s catching a breather, watching the kids and a few people from his group continue the game, a young boy around 2 years old wanders closer to him and holds his arms up in the universal “pick me up” sign, and who would Robby be to say no?
He holds the little boy for a while longer until the other kids pull him back into the game, forcing him to pass the boy off to the next adult who needed a break, muttering a quick “tag, you’re it” with the hand off. He plays a while longer, never once scoring a goal but laughing the whole time. As the sun dips down below the horizon, he ends up holding the little boy again, this time fast asleep. He bounces the kid for a while before finally tracking down one of their translators to help him find the kids family.
They find his mom in the overnight clinic set up, tending to a slightly older little girl they’ve been treating for fevers and dehydration. She smiles at Robby and takes the little boy back. She says something at him that, as always, Robby doesn’t understand.
“She said she is grateful to you for finding him, and for helping her daughter. She is happy you’re here.” The translator, Nadia tells him. Robby smiles and turns back to the mother.
“I’m just happy to help. Do any of you want or need anything before I head in for the night?” Nadia repeats his question and the mother shakes her head, but reaches out towards him and squeezes his hand. He squeezes back then turns and thanks Nadia before finally heading back to his cot and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.
He wakes up at around 6 am to distant gunfire. Damn. They might be stuck here for longer than expected if the fighting is this close. MSF won’t want to risk crossing through active zones to get to the next stop but they’re already pretty low on vaccines and antibiotics, they’ve got enough for maybe two weeks? If they stretch it? Hopefully someone higher up than he is can figure something out.
He sighs and gets himself ready for the day, heads down to grab his breakfast with the rest of the group. Same porridge, different day. He met up with his team, two nurses and an APP, and Nadia and headed out to the outpatient clinic.
They get there by 7:45 and there is already a line forming. Mothers holding their children, husbands ushering wives, children guiding fathers. Robby smiles at them as he opens the clinic doors, ready to dive in and give everything he can to these people.
The morning passes in the blur he’s become used to. Vaccines, IV starts, guiding his team, cleaning wounds and comforting worried family members.
Robby looks up from looking in a toddlers ear right as the first explosion rolls across the desert. He looks out the window to the endless expanse of dust.
They stayed distant at first but that most recent one had shaken the clinic's walls so badly that part of the roofing had fallen off and Robby had bent over the bed holding his current patient to attempt to cover them if the whole building collapsed.
“Ok that’s enough. Let’s gather our stuff and we can help bring our patients with us to the overnight location. The fighting is too close.” Robby calls out. Nadia immediately starts speaking to the people they’re treating. They grab the essentials, and Robby ends up carrying an elderly man on his back and begins the walk back to their main hub further in the village. He hopes it puts enough distance between them to let them keep helping without getting caught in the line of fire.
They quickly lead their little caravan into the larger care center and settle the patients and continue their care. The patient flow has slowed down significantly with the fighting being so close. No one wants to risk being out in the streets at the moment.
Marie, one of the higher ups in their branch of MSF, comes up to him as he’s grabbing a quick snack. And pulls him aside.
“We think there might be some civilian casualties.” She starts. Always straight to the point. “From what we can tell, the fight has moved further north and it looks like they’re both backing off. We are able to go in and try to find some survivors if we have willing providers. I don’t want to pressure anyone into anything, it’s not our usual level of safety, but if you’re willing to help, we are leaving in about 20 minutes.”
Robby doesn’t even really need to think about it. He swallows the water he’d been holding in his mouth and nods to her.
“I’ll grab my bag.”
He grabs as many trauma supplies as he can shove in his go bag. Tourniquets, gauze, bandages, a few Sam splints, a crike kit, some basic airway supplies, an IO set, and some large bore IVs. He quickly grabs a handful of granola bars, his water bottle, and jogs out to meet up with the other volunteers going out.
There’s 7 of them going out. 3 doctors not including him, one NP and one nurse and one translator. They split into groups, but Robby, having the most trauma experience, elects to go himself with the promise of staying within shouting distance.
They decide to drive the truck out as far as they can so they can transport people back to their care center easier, so the 20 minute walk takes them just under 10.
As they come closer to the edges of the village, the evidence of war grows. Bullet holes in building walls, a building in the distance collapsed and smoldering making the air thick with smoke and added heat, and people. There is crying and screaming for help. He sees a woman walking towards their truck with tears cutting tracks through the dust on her face. Helena, one of the other doctors hops out of the back of the truck and heads towards her with her hands extended.
Robby begins walking towards the collapsed building, keeping his gaze sweeping, watching for danger and people who need help. He comes to a stop at the first person he sees. Triage rules. Start with the closest person and work your way out. He’s a soldier, not American camo. Robby quickly tries to rouse him, checks a pulse, does one round of compressions, gets no response, moves forward.
He hears someone yelling. He heads towards the voice. A young man, civilian this time, with a very obvious deformity to the lower leg. He approaches slowly and shows his MSF badge. The man relaxed a little but is still groaning in pain. Robby grabs a splint, and crudely shapes it to the young man’s leg then helps him hop closer to the truck to be handed off to the nurse and doctor there.
He jogs back out towards the collapsed building m, not finding anyone else yet along the way. He shouts from just outside the building even though it’s likely no one will understand him. He doesn’t hear a response so he walks along the one standing wall to the far side of the building, careful of the low flames still licking at the rubble. On the other side he see large craters from explosives and a few more soldiers scattered around. This time he recognizes American camo scattered around.
He comes to a stop by another soldier from some unknown place, he’s gasping for breath and clutching at his side. Robby drops to his side again flashing his badge before moving to open the man’s shirt to get a better view of the damage. Hes got flail chest and when he listens with his stethoscope he doesn’t hear breath on the man’s left side. He checks the man’s neck, and sees his trachea deviating to the right. Bingo.
He grabs a 14g IV needle and feels for the correct spot between the man’s ribs and presses the needle in and gets the satisfying hiss of trapped air escaping. Within seconds the soldiers breathing is easier and his eyes are drooping with exhaustion. He grabs Robby hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. Robby smiles and nods at him before waving down one of his nurses, Isaiah to take the man back to the truck as well. He gets them on their way and continues on.
There’s a large crater in the ground, and a tipped humvee nearby, there’s two American soldiers propped against its side. Robby makes his way to them next. He slows as he walks by a body that had clearly been dragged out from the humvee. A large amount of blood trailing from the wreckage. Robby stops to check a pulse-
“He’s gone.” A wrecked and breaking voice warns him. Robby looks up to the two soldiers. “Our medic tried to get him out but he was gone before we even stopped rolling.”
Robby nods his understanding and walks his way towards them. The shorter one, a woman, her hair messy and half out of its bun, has the man’s head resting on her shoulder, half his face covered in dusty, bloody bandages.
“Okay,” Robby keeps his voice calm and flat. “What do you two need? What’s hurt?” He crouches by the pair and sees a nasty burn on her hand and a large heavy bandage around her thigh. There’s torn gauze and QuickClot packaging next to her.
“His head has a bad lac and burns, and a suspected broken leg. I’ve got burns” she gestures to her leg." The medic said there’s some arterial damage there and told me to keep him company until someone can come grab us.” She says waving her hand at her fellow trooper.
“Okay, here take these,” Robby hands her two granola bars. And waves Isaiah over. “That’s one of my team, he’s gonna help you guys to our transport. We can figure out getting you back to your squad when things calm down some more.”
The woman nods at him.
“Our medic went that way.” She points behind her. “I’m sure he’d love some support.”
Robby gives her a quick thumbs up before moving in that direction.
He walks just a few feet before he realizes there more blood soaking into the dirt. Large drops, bordering on small puddles, every few feet apart. The path is leading towards another smoking building. He follows the trail. After about 15 feet there’s a much larger puddle. It looks like whoever’s bleeding out collapsed and started dragging themself forward by the smears and drag path in the dust. Robby quickens his pace a little.
He sees a body ahead, face down with their arm reached forward, like they were still trying to pull their body forward. Robby rushes towards the body, passing a discarded helmet on his way. As he gets closer, he can make out more details. The right pant leg is completely saturated in blood and the charred remains of the boot is at an unnatural angle. The helmet must have been this soldiers because he can see his head, face turned away from Robby so he can just see rusty brown curls.
No.