#whitaker missing robby

Checkpoint, brother?

Robby

Home. I'll see u tmr👍

Robby is standing on his house porch. He is home, finally, in the middle of the night. He gets in with the spare key he got from under the flower pot. The house is strangely dark, like it being left by the owner for three months. Technically, yes it does. But the last time he remembered Whitaker saying 'yes' to housesit his sad bachelor pad. At least, Whitaker has to turn on some lights in the house so it appeared more lively.

Robby opens his bedroom door. The room is dark, but the moonlight runs through the open window shows a figure sleeping on his bed. Whitaker?

Robby drops his bag and slowly walks toward the figure. It's Whitaker. He is sleeping. Robby turn on the bedside lamp so he can see Whitaker more clearly. He is sleeping, a restless sleep. He is frowning, and there are visible trails of tears under his closed eyes. Maybe Whitaker is having bad dreams?

Before Robby touches Whitaker, he sees Whitaker's phonescreen lit on the nightstand. Santos is calling.

"Santos.."

"Fuckle- Robby?!"

"Yes, it's me,"

"Oh God, Robby. How are you, boss?"

"Good. Just arrived at home.."

"Thank God, not gonna lie but you scared me the last time we met, before your sabbatical. Anyway, you are with Dennis, right? You pick up his phone.."

"Yes. He is sleeping, at my house,"

"Fucking huckleberry... I'm worried. We were supposed to get home together but he left me. He looked liveless, like a zombie. I would go to your house but he never told me your address,"

"Well, he does look like sleeping zombie right now. Did something bad happened to him today?"

"Three patients, his patients, died. It was not fully his fault, but losing three patients in a day is sure something. Poor huckleberry, hope he can recover from today,"

"That's... terrible. No wonder he sleeps like this,"

"Can you take care of him? No, sorry, that's too much. Just let him rest until he wakes up on his own. Good thing he got day off tomorrow,"

"No worry, I'll take care of him. Thank you, Santos. I'll see you soon,"

"Alright. Night, boss,"

Robby sits on the bed. He touches Whitaker, lightly, brushing his fingers over his shoulder and arm. "Whitaker... Dennis,"

Robby holds Whitaker's hand, "Having rough day, doctor?"

Whitaker wiggles, gripping on Robby's hand. "Dr Robby... have you find balance?"

Robby raised his eyebrows. Whitaker eyes are still closed, probably sleeptalking. He smiles. Another hand running on Whitaker's hairs, his temple, and then trying to remove the tears under his eyes.

"Have I find balance? Not yet. But this night, I come home to you sleeping on my bed, thinking about what should I make for our breakfast or what should I do to help you cope with patients death. Maybe that is the closest thing to balance. This is the best thing I have, to balance,"

Whitaker curls his body closer to Robby, eyes still closed, "Robby..."

"Yeah?"