The front door creaked open long past midnight.

Robby stepped inside, dragging his feet like his bones had doubled in weight. His shoulders sagged under the weight of a brutal shift, the kind that left more ghosts in his mind than patients in beds. He stood in the entryway in silence, staring at the floor.

He didn’t notice you at first, curled on the couch under a blanket. But you stirred as soon as you heard the door.

“Robby?” Your voice was soft, groggy from sleep.

He didn’t answer right away. Just shut the door behind him and leaned against it like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Hey… you okay?” you asked, sitting up fully now, worry flashing across your face.

Robby’s head dropped. “No.”

You were on your feet in an instant, crossing the room to wrap your arms around his waist. He didn’t move. Not for a long moment. Then slowly, like it physically hurt, his arms came up and clutched at you — desperate.

“I lost a girl tonight,” he muttered into your shoulder. “Fifteen. Heart just… stopped. She was smiling at me ten minutes before. And then—”

His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“God, I—I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t fix it. What’s the point of all this if I just stand there and watch it happen?”

You brought your hands up to cradle his face. “You didn’t watch it happen. You fought. Like you always do.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“You’re not supposed to be a miracle worker, Robby. You’re human. And she knew you were fighting for her. That matters.”

His jaw clenched, eyes glassy. “I feel like I’m drowning. I thought—on the walk—I thought maybe I just… shouldn’t come home.”

You didn’t flinch. You pulled him in tighter, forehead to his. “But you did come home. You chose to come back. To me. And that means everything.”

Robby finally let out a shaking breath. His voice was barely audible. “I’m tired...”

“I know dear,” you whispered. “You’re safe here. I’ll hold you as long as you want.”

He buried his face in your neck, his voice small. “…Can we just stay here for a bit? I don’t wanna think anymore.”

“Of course, baby,” you whispered, stroking his hair gently. “We’ll stay right here. No thinking. Just you and me.”