#hucklerobbot

Made a whitaker drawing and decided it had to be hucklerobbot so i also made a sketchy drawing of robby and Abbot realizing they are old and creeps (i love them so much)

Also the whitaker drawing is on my inprint

Hey wait a minute, this isn't stranger things 🤣

Summary: Robby’s only got a laceration on his hand from helping the driver in front of him, who hit the deer, out of the vehicle. But it’s still enough of his own blood to send Jack yelling and Denny panicking. Or Jack said no sabbatical and reluctantly agreed to letting Robby go on couple day long trips.

WC: 625

C/W: brief mentions of blood and stitches. no beta we d!e like men.

Jack had finally gotten Denny to sleep, the blonde boys curls nestled into Lexi's soft fur as his red, tear stained cheeks hid in the brown fur of the dog pressing into his chest.

Jack knew Denny had been holding his tears and hyper ventilating break down induced panic attack in until they'd gotten home. Both of their shifts coming to a crash down with Robby coming in with the driver of the car who had hit the deer in front of him and sent Robby laying down his bike and skidding down the road.

Luckily, though he had been fine, besides a laceration on his hand from pulling the driver out of the car after the deer had gone through the windshield and knocked out the driver.

Though, the whole entire thing enough to scare Denny so bad he'd been shaking and hyper ventilating for a good 15 minutes before Jack had been able to get him into bed and tucked into him before the man fell asleep.

Jacks coming of the bedroom and the uneven gate of his steps could alert Robby he was coming back into the kitchen. The sun started to peek up through the city and the trees and provide a light morning dim through the curtains. The uneven steps and gate was enough to make Jack as aware as himself that Robby would try and turn this whole thing onto fussing over Jack and trying to force him to bed too. To avoid confronting this whole situation.

But Jack doesn't let him speak as he held up a hand and dropped into the chair across from Robby. He still sat in his dark denim jeans with a couple tatters now from skidding down the road. The black shirt clinging to his arms and the bandage on his hand still white to Jacks please that the stitches were holding well.

“Jackie,” Robby's breathing out.

“No,” Jacks words are quick but they're low and husky too, “You're getting rid of it.”

Jack knows he doesn't have to say more than that for Robby to understand what he's getting at.

The other man's face falling as his familiar wrinkles of a lived expressive life showing Jack all he Needed to know about what Robby was going to babble and fight with him about.

“That’s not fair...” he's shaking his head with that still all too manic and angered smile pulling on Robby's cheeks, “I don't beg you to quit offering your experience to the swat unit? You think I like knowing that you're going to get shot at again. You know how many years I sat and-“

“Youre not turning this on to me, Michael. Every person who loves you has asked you to sell it because they're scared you're going to drive yourself off a fucking cliff on purpose.” Jacks hissing as he sits forward and locking eye contact with Robby as his finger drove into the table to add punctuality to his point of the argument.

“Did you just enjoy watching Denny shake and cry and nearly knock himself out from crying because you need to go keep living this suicidal manic pixie dream girl shit, Michael?” Jacks heart is burning with fire of how angry he is. His love for him just pouring over in this volcano. His heart dropping just even seeing Robby sitting in the ambulance with a wad of bloody bandages held to his hand. Just to even know this happened while he was on his motorcycle. How scarily easily it could've been Robby hitting the deer...