Pickles

It was late, and it was dark, and you were feeling stupid and emotional in the way you always seemed to after a big fight. The breakup between your roommates had lasted for weeks, and they kept dragging you into fights like a child in a divorce. You needed air.

The car crunched across the asphalt as you pulled out of the parking lot, you didn’t have a destination at first, just aimlessly driving and fighting back the frustration. You considered the hospital, just to take a breather in the ER car park for an hour, maybe head to the diner a few blocks down for some bad pancakes and an even worse milkshake.

The idea hit you like a terrible light bulb. Dennis Whitaker, your friend from work, was house-sitting for Dr Robby still. He’d said himself the house was lonely and big at night, and he wouldn’t mind the company if you had a free night. So that’s where you headed, you had the address saved in your messages somewhere and had the time to pull it up while at a red light. It was fairly close to PTMC, only a short drive from the hospital.

The house was what you’d expected from the rough attending, simple on the outside, garden a little unkempt. It needed a good weeding, and maybe for the grass to be cut. You pulled up outside, back tyre perched precariously on the curb, you should’ve probably straightened up, but didn’t. It wasn’t until you approached the door that you considered you maybe should’ve called Dennis to give him a heads-up you were stopping by, but when you tried calling, it rang out and went to voicemail.

Your hand hovered over the door before you knocked. It was just Dennis, there was no point in being nervous. For a long moment, there was complete silence, before keys jingled in the door from the other side, and you were faced with not Dennis, but Robby himself.

You blinked in confusion. He still had a month left of his sabbatical and the reckless motorcycle trip he was taking across the country. Instead of explaining your reasoning for being here, or saying anything smart at all, what came out was a slow, “You… You’re back?”

To his credit, the older man didn’t question you right away or demand to know why one of his interns was on his doorstep and had his address. He just sighed and replied, “Yeah, got back last night.” His voice was gruff and typically tired.

It was then that you realised how strange this was and cleared your throat, “I’m so sorry!” You apologised quickly, realising how strange this was. “I thought Dennis was still here, he said I could stop by… I’ll… I’m sorry.”

Robby didn’t seem annoyed; if anything, he seemed slightly amused by your rambled apology. “Are you alright?” The question from him caught you so off guard that you just stared at him.

“What?” You questioned, then promptly snapped your mouth shut and scrambled to continue, “Yes. Yeah, I’m fine, good… I was just… looking for...” You trailed off because what were you looking for? Company, maybe.

He waited patiently for you to finish the sentence, and when you didn’t, he shuffled a little on the doorstep, almost as if he wanted to ask you to leave but didn’t really know how. On a whim, and a bad decision, Robby instead asked, “Do you want a drink?”

You considered the question for a moment, “I… No, I don’t want to bother you.” You denied.

He looked slightly taken aback by the denial, as if he’d just automatically assumed you’d say yes. Which he had by the way. “It’s no bother,” he said finally, “I have some of that herbal shit you drink on shift.”

It was such a simple little observation to make that you didn’t drink coffee, only herbal tea and energy drinks, but it shifted something in you that he noticed. Maybe that's why you agreed, “sure,” you murmured.

He stepped aside to let you through the front door. The house was warm, almost uncomfortably so on your skin after the slight chill from outside. He didn’t seem to find it too hot.

You recognised his walls from being on FaceTime with Dennis as he got in from a shift, automatically calling you for a rant the moment he got in. You could’ve pointed out the toaster his phone had fallen off of countless times as he did dishes or made food. It had felt like Dennis’s space for a time, so it was strange seeing it as Robby’s again.

“How was your trip?” You asked hesitantly as he busied himself with turning on the kettle to boil some water.

His silence was long; it appeared as though he was taking a long time to consider his answer. So, it was odd when he came out with, “Yeah, good.” and that was all.

You nodded despite him not looking at you, “Okay, good.” You replied. “Where did you-”

“Do you want sugar?” he cut you off, almost sharply. Clearly, the sabbatical was not up for discussion.

“No… thank you.” You replied carefully.

It was almost awkwardly silent as he poured water over the tea bags, considering he’d described it as ‘herbal shit,’ he was still drinking it. You vaguely wondered if it would be rude to leave now he’d already poured the tea. It wasn’t until he slid you the mug that he spoke again, “How come you didn’t call ahead?”

“Call ahead?” You repeated, unsure what he meant at first.

“If you were looking for Whitaker.” He clarified.

“Oh,” That made sense now, “I just… didn’t think, he said I would be okay to stop by if he was here… I thought he’d checked it with you.” You explained.

He sighed, “Yeah, No… You’re…” He paused to sip from his mug, “You were welcome to stop by… anyone was,” he added the last part as an afterthought.

You nodded again. The green tea was bitter, clearly not of overly high quality. You tried to imagine Robby aimlessly picking up a box of herbal tea as he did his weekly shopping, but the image wouldn't quite conjure. It didn’t match the image of him. The silence was oddly comforting at first, but the longer it went on, and the more you felt him watching you, the more you felt the need to break it.

“My roommates are going through a breakup, they keep dragging me into it.” You said finally. The second you said it, you couldn’t figure out why you had. He was your boss, not your therapist.

In true Robby fashion, he looked instantly uncomfortable in the face of emotion from a colleague. He took a sip of his tea, slurping when he hadn’t before and clearing his throat before finally speaking. “I’m sorry, that must be difficult.” He replied, it was the expected answer.

“Yeah.” You said simply. “I just needed a second out of the apartment.” You explained, a reason for seeking out Dennis this late at night. Robby seemed to deflate a little; you assumed it was at your seemingly dismissive attitude towards the divorce and the lack of need to continue talking about it.

However, he next led with, “So you and Whitaker aren't…” He didn’t say it, but it was implied.

Again, he’d sent you for a complete spin, “What? No.” You denied quickly. “We… We’re friends.” The insistence was maybe a bit much; he raised an eyebrow.

“Okay.” He agreed, as if he didn’t care, but there was an edge to it.

“Trinity had a bet that we’d end up… well, something-ing… but it never happened.” You were supplying completely unnecessary information now, clearly flustered by the line of questioning.

Robby was still quiet, in that stoic way he sometimes was. “No?” he pressed.

“Not my type.” You added, to be sure.

The silence wasn’t any different now; you were both still the same distance apart, still sipping tea, but it felt different. He was looking at you with an intensity that you’d never noticed, the kind you assumed he probably studied you with in the ER during procedures.

“I got to Wyoming.” He offered after a moment, vulnerability for vulnerability. Apparently, he did want to talk about the trip.

You glanced up at him, placing your half-empty mug onto the counter, “and?” You prompted him to continue.

He sighed deeply, “I realised I was just taking my problems with me.” He admitted, it almost sounded like it pained him to say out loud.

“I’m glad you came back… I hope you found whatever you were looking for.” You said in response. There had been a time in those first few weeks, when he went radio silent, that we thought he wasn’t coming back.

He went still, and then shrugged and shook his head at the same time. “Yeah, maybe I did.” He said.

You watched him closely again for a long moment, he was looking into his empty mug. “I should probably go.” You decided quickly, feeling like you’d already intruded. You could head back to the apartment now, your roommates would likely be asleep or at least cooled down.

You reached for your mug to place in the sink without realising he’d stepped forward to also take it, his hand closing around yours. It was the first time you’d been drawn this close. You took a breath, sharp. His eyes darted down to yours before he took the mug, straightening quickly. His back was turned to the sink when he said, “Goodnight.”

You swallowed thickly, “Yeah, goodnight. Thank you for the tea.” You replied, your voice coming out a lot more stable than you’d been expecting.

You’d made it to the entryway again when he caught up, making you jump a little.

“Drive safe.” His voice was rough, but his inflection sounded like he wasn’t done talking. You paused, he opened his mouth and then shook his head. “Look, if you need a place to crash or whatever, I have a spare room.”

“Okay…” Your voice was cautious but you appreciated the offer. You knew how much it had taken for him to make it. You turned to the door and then back, “When are you back at work?” You questioned.

“Tomorrow, probably.” He said. That wasn’t surprising, it was a miracle he’d stayed away for the two months he had.

“I’ll see you then.” You replied softly. He nodded, stepping to catch the door as you stepped outside.

The whole way down the path you were waiting for him to say something else, anything else. You’d reached the gate when he called out. “Wait.” He was already halfway down the path towards you, you’d stopped as he requested.

He took a breath and then spoke again. "I realised halfway across Wyoming that I spend a lot of time running from things." He shook his head. "Then I got home yesterday and now you’re on my porch." He looked at you properly.

You searched his face, trying to read the expression you'd never seen directed at anyone in the emergency department.

“And you looked disappointed that I was here.” He spoke.

You blinked. “No.” You denied, “I just… I was expecting Dennis, you caught me off guard.” You defended. Obviously you weren’t disappointed he was back.

He was still just studying your face, waiting for something.

“I wasn’t disappointed.” You clarified. “I just needed company, and… Well, I wouldn’t usually come to you.”

He nodded, as if accepting that. It was true, your boss was probably the last person you would’ve gone to about your roommates breakup driving you to insanity.

“I’m glad I did.” You said after another long pause.

Robby hesitated and then took a step towards you, it was almost unsure. You’d never really seen him look off kilter, he moved with a certain assuredness in the ER. He stopped close enough that you could see how tired his eyes really were. "This is probably a bad idea." He murmured.

"It probably is." You agreed.

"You're an intern." He pointed out, he cursed himself internally, helpful Robby.

"I noticed." You replied simply.

He gave a dry huff that almost counted as a laugh, "I'm supposed to know better."

"You usually do."

"I usually do."

No one moved yet, you kept your eyes trained on his but he didn’t move away. You were waiting for him to tell you to go home. He shook his head again, but he stayed where he was. “Thank you for staying.” He breathed, voice rough.

“It’s fine.” You whispered, feeling the need to stay quiet and not ruin the moment.

"It isn’t." His voice was quiet but more sure. For a long moment, neither of you moved. His eyes searched yours, still tired but more clear, like he’d made up his mind about something. "I've spent all night trying not to make this complicated," he admitted.

Your breath caught. "Robby..." You said his name because you’d run out of other things to say.

He shook his head, a small, almost defeated smile crossing his face. "I know." His hand lifted slowly, hesitating just before it reached your face. "Can I kiss you?" he said softly, "and we can pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow."

Instead of answering, you closed the last bit of distance between you, pressing up just slightly on your toes to reach him. The kiss was gentle, more a question than anything else, the rough scratch of his beard almost comforting.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a moment. "I really do know better," he murmured.

You smiled, and huffed a breath that sounded like a laugh, "I know."

"I'm still glad you came." He joined in your laugh with a dry chuckle of his own, it sounded like his throat had gone dry.

"So am I." You whispered into the night before stepping back. “Goodnight.” You said for the second time that night.

The crackle of the common room fire was the only sound punctuating the silence that had fallen over Remus, Lily, and you. 

The three of you had met to work on potions homework almost an hour ago now and you hadn’t managed to write more than a few sentences. With a sigh you dropped your quill and parchment onto the coffee table, dropping your head back onto the couch behind you dramatically. 

A soft chuckle fell from Remus’ mouth as he placed down his own quill and slid a hand to rest on your knee. 

“Had enough?” he muttered softly, tilting his head ever so slightly as he took in your weary expression. 

“This is hopeless,” you grumbled. 

Lily’s head peaked up at that, eyes catching onto yours with a sympathetic smile. 

You sighed again, 

“I never should’ve taken potions, I mean come on, I barley passed it at OWL’s what was I thinking.” you rambled. 

You dropped your head into your hands now, a noise of frustration passing your mouth as you fretted over the particularly nasty potions essay. 

Lily stood from her spot wordlessly, coming to sit on the floor beside you, she tucked her knees up to her chest, ginger hair falling over your shoulder as she rested her head on it. 

You found yourself breathing a sigh as her scent enveloped you, vanilla with a hint of something fruity, her hand slid to replace remus’s on your knee. 

She leaned further into your side, head resting against your own. 

“You are one of the most capable people i've ever met, you know that?” she stated simply. 

Lily pulled her head back, green eyes boring into your own, pleading with you silently to listen to her. 

“I hate that you doubt yourself,” she started, voice barley above a whisper, “you are ridiculously smart, and annoyingly talented.” 

You opened your mouth to object but she powered on. 

“Everyone has to struggle with something, its what keeps us human, but you are not defined by the mistakes you might make or what you find difficult.” 

She took a breath, leaning in and dropping her forehead against yours. 

“And you are certainly not defined by the first paragraph of a potions essay.” she smiled. 

You giggled a little as her hands came to rest on the sides of your face, the cool of her fingertips sending a small shiver through your body. You relaxed at the familiar contact, forcing yourself to nod. 

“Thank you, Lils” you mumbled softly, the previous frustration coursing through you ebbing ever so slightly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

She smiled brightly, the sight alone caused the remaining tension to dissolve from your bones. 

“Well, good thing you won’t need to find out.” she teased, her head returning to your shoulder, seeming quite content to be finished with studying for the night. 

Remus chuckled quietly from beside you, bringing both of your attention back to him momentarily. 

“If you two are quite done being absolutely adorable, I could use a proof read on this last part.” he muttered, faux annoyance slipping into his voice. 

A small laugh was pulled from you at that, you took the essay from his hands and passed it right over to lily, reading over her shoulder, feeling contented.