Noah Wyle on The Pitt’s premise being Robby’s mental health struggles, his suicidal ideation, which is prevalent among healthcare professionals, and Robby’s state of mind in season 2:
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Once we decided that we wanted to put, at the center of this medical drama that was an exposé and sharp look at the medical world, in 2026, a mental health journey of one particular person and have as part of that mental health journey be suicidal ideation, which speaks to a lot of the prevalence of that in this profession, once we committed to that idea, it was really exciting to walk it through. And to play the first half of the season as a guy going on vacation to get his head clear and play the second half of a season as a man buttoning up every aspect of his life in the event that this was a one-way trip. And leaving that almost to the Fates to decide as the day unfolded, looking for signs and signals to determine which way that should go. And increasingly as the day goes on, to be met with both the increasing desire to make it a one-way trip and the community that desperately don’t want him to, and ultimately keep him on this side of that edge.
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Rain hadn't been in the forecast. They were an hour and fifteen minutes into a two hour hike when the first peal of thunder came. Robby and Jack share a look and then almost at once, a sheet of water falls from the sky. It's almost apocalyptic- the thunder is shaking the sky, the trees swaying around them and the rain falling so hard that you could barely see in front of your face. There is nothing to do but keep going. They start to laugh- helpless, aching laughter, bent double at the waist.
"It's always an adventure," Robby says with a wry grin.
"Only way out is through," Jack replies. They set off.
They don't hurry- there's no reason to hurry. They're far enough away from the trailhead that even if they ran, it wouldn't make a difference. They keep going- alone on the trail, they sing songs, terribly. At one point, Jack starts calling out marching songs that his drill sergeant would use to help them keep pace in BMT. At one point, Robby slips on the slick earth and covers his pants in mud up to the knees. The whole time they're laughing, they just keep laughing.
By the time they make it back to the truck, they're soaked to the bone and shivering, with the biggest smiles on their faces. When Robby removes his boots and what had to be a cup and a half of water pours out, they break into more laughter. It isn't even that funny, but the endorphins, the sheer what the fuck, this might as well happen, of it all- just shines of light of hilarity on everything.
Jack had spare socks and spare shirts in the car, but their shoes and pants are fucked beyond repair. They'll just have to stay wet for the three hour drive back. It was worth it- they had more fun on that hike, soaked through the bone, than on any hike Robby could ever remember.
On the drive back, the weather breaks. The clouds shuffle off, the clear blue sky is revealed and a golden light shines over everything. Classic rock is on the radio; Jack singing along to the guitar solos instead of the lyrics, for some reason- and Robby thinks I could have missed this.
It's the kind of thought that couldn't stay inside, so he says it. "I could have missed this." At Jack's raised brow, he continues. "I almost killed myself. I could have missed this."
"I'm glad you didn't, brother. I'm glad I didn't, too. Would have been a shame to miss today."
"It's beautiful." It sounds stupid, it sounds trite, it would sound absurd to any person other than Jack, but he feels like he's witnessed a miracle. The unexpected summer thunderstorm, the blue sky, the sun shining through the clouds. It's all so beautiful. Somehow, he can actually see it now. He took so much for granted. He never appreciated it, not anything.
He does now, in this moment.
And Robby. Just keeps thinking it. He feels the breeze through his window and hears someone laughing far away and he thinks I could have missed this. He and Jack argue over a game and he thinks I could have missed this. He holds a baby, freshly delivered in his hands. I could have missed this. Even the sadness is a blessing somehow. He almost missed out on so much.
He tries to take a picture any time the thought strikes him, that way he can look back and see the proof that even though things are still so bad sometimes, it's still a miracle that he's allowed to see it at all.
He explains it to Jack and Jack- in the dead-pan way he says jokes with an utter seriousness, like what he's about to tell you is life or death information- says "Every day's a gift, brother. That's why they call it the present." And Robby laughs and laughs and shoves him for being a piece of shit.
"I was trying to be open and honest, brother. Why do you have to ruin everything?" Robby moans, though the smile is still on his face.
"In the spirit of me ruining everything-" Jack takes his hand, pulling him in for a kiss. And oh, Robby wasn't expecting that. Hadn't expected that at all, but it's so good, and how could he have never expected this? It seems so obvious in hindsight.
I could have missed this, Robby thinks, the rest of his life unfurling before him- an open road, a hand in his, sun golden on everything. Even the future sadness, even the future pain. He sees the sun, and even if he doesn't, he knows it's there. And there's a whole life in that, in knowing the sun is there. In knowing he has someone to dance through the darkness with.
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Rabbot who pass notes to each other on days they are both working, still trying to keep their relationship quiet. Sometimes soppy ‘I love you’s scrawled on a post-it and tucked in the other’s pocket. Sometimes a whole message scribbled onto the corner of a blank chart and posted into the other’s locker. They’re good at it, sneaky, until the day Robby heads home, 16 hours in and exhausted, only for his phone to absolutely blow up.
Turns out he’s accidentally shoved the new WiFi password into Jack’s pocket, which can only mean he stuck his less than subtle note to Jack to the monitor of one of the computers in the nurses station.
Jack gets back home on the morning of the 5th of July to find Robby curled up on his sofa. No blanket, just a jacket pulled over his shoulders. Robby's chilled and his body feels numb, as Jack gently shakes him awake and gestures to his bedroom. Robby doesn't say anything, and dutifully changes into sleep clothes that Jack gives him. His eyes are shiny, breaths uneven, as he climbs into Jack's bed. He falls asleep, this time with Jack's arms around him, and he's warm again and he thinks that maybe as long as he's here, he's safe.
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Imagine Jack Abbot getting reactive hanahaki after his wife dies and absolutely refusing to get the surgery because he won’t survive knowing he loved her once.
Imagine Robby with chronic hanahaki, he’s had it since he first met Jack. Now he’s quietly mourning, flushing down petals that are already starting to become attached to flower buds and making his own peace because he can see Jack’s fading and he’ll follow him anywhere.
Imagine Dana witnessing all of this. Sentinel and grieving. Knowing neither man will do anything and she’s forced to come to terms with that.
Part 1 Part 2 And this is the third and final part of this Hanahaki AU
They postpone the wedding. Jack can’t stomach the thought of someone other than Robby being his best man. His stomach churns; Robby would’ve agreed and swallowed his misery as he watched Jack profess his love to someone else.
Amy strokes his hair and kisses his forehead. “It’s not your fault,” she whispers. “It’s no one’s fault. Do you blame yourself for falling in love with me?”
“You’re not killing me,” Jack cries.
Six months later, Jack gets a call from an unknown number, but he knows exactly who he’s talking to from the first breath.
“I’m looking for Jack Abbot.”
“Mikey?”
“Uh, yes. Hi.” Robby clears his throat. “Sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not a bother,” Jack rushes out.
There’s an uncomfortable pause. Jack never used to have those with Robby. “I’m in the process of moving,” Robby says eventually. “And I found a box labeled ‘for him,’ it’s really tightly wrapped. I think it’s got multiple layers, and well, you’re the only person I could think it would be for.”
Jack swallows. “You can open it. If it’s for me, I give you permission. If it turns out not to be, whoops.”
A rhythmic clacking comes through the speaker as Robby taps the back of the phone. “I think it’s wrapped up so I don’t open it. If I’m remembering right.”
“You don’t have any idea what’s inside?”
“No fucking clue. Which usually means it’s you.”
Of course. Because Jack is no one to this Robby. Nothing but a scary, old box hidden in the depths of the past. “Well, I’ll give you my address and you can send it my way.”
Jack comes home everyday for the next three weeks hopeful and dreading the possibility of the package arriving. When it finally does, he sits it on the counter and debates whether or not he should open it at all.
“You should,” Amy encourages. “Worst case scenario we throw it out.”
“We” holds a lot of Jack’s fear for him. Together, they open the box, layer by layer, until all that’s left is a shoebox with an envelope taped on top. Jack breaks the seal with shaky hands, the paper is crinkled and tear-stained.
Jack,
I’m sorry I have to write this. I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you, but I need you to know that this isn’t your fault. I know you’re blaming yourself, just like I’m blaming myself, but there’s no point.
I wish there was a way to do this without forgetting you, but I know this is what’s best for both of us.
I sincerely wish you a long and happy marriage. Truthfully, if you weren’t getting married I may not have had it in me to go through with this, but I know if she loves you half as much as I do, you’ll be well taken care of.
I’m sorry. I miss you already.
—Mikey
Inside the box is every photo Robby ever had of them. Jack flicks through them with blurry vision, and tells Amy as many stories as his trembling voice can handle.
Eventually, he does marry Amy. It’s the best day of his life despite an obvious missing piece. And then he endures Hell for the next fifteen years.
He loses his leg, his wife, damn near his mind, and somehow winds up applying to an Emergency Department in Pittsburgh.
Jack barely makes it two steps out of his interview before he collides with a broad chest.
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” a terrifyingly familiar voice says.
Jack’s heart sinks. “Mike.”
Robby’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Oh, um.” He squints. “Jack! Jack, hi. How have you been?”
“Been better,” he admits. “Was hoping for a fresh starts, but…”
“Are you applying here?”
“I was, but I can find somewhere else.”
“No, no. I mean, obviously, I understand if it’s uncomfortable for you, but I wouldn’t mind.”
Jack’s heart thuds. “You wouldn’t?”
“No,” Robby shrugs. “No reason to avoid you anymore.”
If Jack had two good knees instead of one finicky one he’d fall to the ground and thank God for finally showing some mercy.
Working with Robby is strange. He’s so different than the Robby Jack knew, and not just because of the grey hairs and new wrinkles, but there’s also the faint remnants of Jack’s best friend in him. Enough that Jack asks if they could spend time together outside of work.
After a moment of silence, Robby nods. “Don’t see why not.”
Hanging out with Robby is eerily similar to how it was twenty years ago, but there a few, undeniable, difference that sting.
Robby still has the same taste in movies, but they don’t sit close enough to touch. And he blushes as easily as he ever did, though Jack is careful not to tease him for it.
Over two years they grow closer and closer, and just when Jack thinks he might have his best friend back Robby sits him down. He keeps his eyes low, and uses the same voice he does when delivering bad news at work.
“Jack, I— I think I might be falling in love with you again.”
Jack’s not really sure what to say to that. They’re sitting in the corner booth of their favorite bar, and all Jack is certain of is that their game of pool won’t be happening tonight. “Oh?”
Robby sniffs, cold and embarrassed. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jack says. He reaches across the table and pats Robby’s hand, retreating the second he sees Robby flinch. “Emotions happen, man. We can’t help it.”
“Right, but what happened last time—“
“We were young then. And you’ve caught it early, so we can handle it this time.”
Robby huffs. He looks up with big, sad eyes. “I am handling it. I don’t think we can be friends.”
Jack’s throat closes.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be,” Robby continues. “I like spending time with you.” He laughs. “Obviously. But, I clearly can’t handle being around you without wanting more.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to ignore each other.” Jack’s eyes dart around the bar as if a solution might jump out at him.
“I don’t want to ignore you, but I don’t think stuff like this is a good idea.” Robby’s chin trembles. “We can talk at work or if there’s some event with a lot of us, but the one-on-one time has to stop.”
“What if we dated?” Jack blurts out.
Robby blinks. His eyes are pathetically red. “What?”
“We could date. It’s not that different than what we’re doing now anyway. I might fall in love with you too, or you’ll realize you’re too good for me and get over it on your own.” Jack smiles, but even without seeing his reflection he knows he looks more manic than comforting.
Robby fiddles with his fingers. “Do you like men?”
Jack deflates. “First time for everything?” Robby scoffs and sinks lower in his seat. “Do you like men?”
“Yes, Jack. I thought that was obvious.”
“You date women all the time. I thought maybe I was special.”
Robby’s knuckles graze over his sternum. “Clearly, you’re special.”
Jack leans forward, he forces his hands to dig into the table instead of lunging at Robby the way he wants. “Let’s just give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”
A mean, barking laugh erupts from Robby. “I develop Hanahaki, again, and no one has ever survived a second surgery.”
“It won’t get to that point,” Jack pleads.
“It might.” Tears drip down Robby’s face. “I don’t remember how it felt the first time I fell in love with you, but I do remember the flowers.” He shakes his head. A voice, more feeble than Jack has ever heard in his life comes out of Robby, “The pain… I can’t go through that again, Jack. I just can’t.”
Jack’s own tears fall. A heavy coil twists around his heart. “I don’t want you to either.”
He slides over to Robby’s side of the booth and holds him close. They cry together in a pitiful lump under the warm light of the bar.
“I’m sorry,” Robby whispers.
“Don’t be,” Jack murmurs. “I’m glad I got to be your friend again for a little bit.”
“I am too.”
For weeks, Jack spends his free time crying. He makes himself sick with tears, pouring over the box of forgotten memories.
One day, about an hour before shift change, a late stage Hanahaki patient bursts through the ambulance bay. There’s nothing they can do for her, the disease has progressed too far. She lays lifeless in the ED covered in blood and peonies.
Jack crawls his way up the stairs and lands on the roof. He looks to the horizon and debates leaving Pittsburgh; he looks at the concrete and debates jumping.
It’d be easy. Just one more step and he’d be back with his wife, or at least away from Robby. No longer killing someone he holds dear with his mere existence.
The door creaks open behind him. “What are you doing out here?” Robby calls.
Jack could take one more step and be free, but if he did, his friendship with Robby would die with him. No one would ever know that they were once happy, that there was a brief moment in time where they could be attached at the hip with no risk of death. Not even Robby.
He steps back, and turns around. Robby stands before him. Fifty years old, greying, wrinkled, a miserable with age, but alive. He made a hard decision to make sure of it, and now Jack will too.
“I wanted to make sure I held him. And that he felt me there as somebody who really does, not only value him as a colleague, but as, probably, a best friend. The line that gets me…I asked Scott to put the line about the emergency contact in there. I have a friend who, whenever I fill out the forms with my kids and it’s like ‘you need an emergency contact’, I have a close friend who I always end up putting on there who I know gets shit done. He’s my guy. So I just imagined Robby and Abbot had that kind of flavor to their relationship.”
-Shawn Hatosy on the season 2 finale goodbye between Robby and Abbot
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