Fics like the puddles gather rain

“Bring everything,” Jack demands. “Send Collins, Mohan, Langdon, King— I want anyone even a little bit useful up here right now, Dana—” “They’re coming,” Dana tells him down the other end, through the chaos he can hear, shouting voices and scrambling action. It’s such an eerie counterpoint to the thunder-rumbling silence up here on the roof that Jack’s stomach turns as he ducks for two more rescue breaths. “How bad is it?” Jack pushes his fingers to Robby’s throat again and still finds nothing. His face is so white when he cups it between his hands, probing for anything, the slightest flutter of a pulse, and he can’t find it. Nothing. “Bad,” he tells her. The phone slips from between his cheek and shoulder to crack on the rooftop. or: robby gets struck by lightning one night when jack meets him up on the roof.

Fics like the puddles gather rain

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