Chapter Text
It was stupid. The argument this morning between the three of them had been stupid. All Frank can think of is how stupid he is. How for the thousandth time the thought of ending things would be better for them. How having him out of their lives would improve theirs. Would it improve his? No, but it isn't about him. Not in that way.
He’s being dramatic, but in times where he feels like the odd one out it was easy to do. Jack and Robby have a long rich history. People tend to get that from knowing one another for thirty odd years, and being married for half that. They met in grad school for fuck’s sake. Sometimes when Frank was feeling particularly sorry for himself he wonders why they even let a divorced benzo stealing chaotic failure of a man into their relationship.
Who can't pick up after himself. Got to add that to the list now.
Robby has been giving him the cold shoulder all throughout their shift. Frank gave up trying to catch his eyes after 9AM, knowing how Robby works. Avoid the problem. Avoid the issue. All synonyms for Frank. Frank who can't remember to pick up his shoes at the bottom of the stairs. If he hand't of gotten distracted, if he had just been considerate, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be feeling like everything was caving in, and that Robby will never truly fully trust him. That maybe both Jack and Robby were with him out of pity and today is the day that pity ran out.
God he was so fucking dramatic. He hated it.
“Dr. Langdon, is everything okay?” Mel spoke up, next to him, fiddling with an apple. “You seem, um, not as vibrant today.”
They were currently in the break room. He's been staring at a PopTart Tanner had swapped out with his own apple, stating 'Daddy needs fun'. It was during this past weekend visit, and he hadn’t had the heart to change it back out. Peeling off the crinkly packet, he picked a corner off the over processed pastry and popped it into his mouth. Instantly regretting it. It was dry, crust flavor non existent, while the jam was overly sweet. The only good part was the small amount of icing, which is why he supposed Tanner likes them.
“Everything is peachy keen, Mel,” Frank states giving her an over the top smile feeling as false as he sounds. “I don't want this, do you want this?”
“Oh, no. I’m not big on sweets. But those are something Becca would like. I guess I can bundle it up and take it to her later.” Mel takes the pack from him. Grabbing a nearby ziplock bag, stuffing them in there. “Did you want my apple?”
“Nah, I'm not that hungry.” The door to the break room opens halfway through his sentence. Most likely one of the students wanting a breather. “Think a RedBull is whispering sweet nothings to me at Dana's station though.”
“Isn't that your second one? You should really cut back there's been studies linking energy drinks-well I should say high caffeinated drinks- to anxiety and other-oh hello Dr. Robby.”
Frank tenses and stamps down on the urge to look over his shoulder. Resolutely keeping his eyes trained on the table, fingers finding his beaded bracelet. Snap. Snap. Snap. A grounding technique that his therapist didn't appreciate. Judging by the way Jack or Robby would rub their thumbs on the red marks that would litter his skin, they didn't either.
“Dr. King,” Robby greets her, voice slightly stiff. He ambles his way to the coffee pot.
That’s Frank's cue to take off. He was sure some lab results had to have come back for him to review. As soon as he stands though, Robby speaks without even looking at him.
“Have you eaten anything today, Langdon?”
Frank sits back down. He knows that tone. With this morning's fight he stormed off leaving his usual overnight oats in the fridge. The bike ride to work had been a little less satisfying using up more energy then he intended, and now that it wa midday his energy was flagging. Cue the RedBull.
“Uh, no.” He answers honestly. “Not hungry. But-”
“No more caffeine,” Robby states putting the coffee pot back in its home. He turns around to lean against the counter, and takes a long drink of coffee. The hypocrite. “Not until you eat something.”
“Have you eaten?” Frank crosses his arms as he leans back in the chair. Tired of being scrutinized. Criticized. “Should we cut off your own supply over there?”
“Um-” Mel starts.
“I, in fact did.”
“Of course you did,” Frank mutters to himself.
“I think-” Mel starts again.
“Here.” Robby grabs a granola bar from a bowl labeled 'Free for All' and tosses it to him. Frank watches it land carelessly onto the table, sliding a tiny bit before stopping in front of him. “Eat up.”
Frank was in the wrong this morning. He knows that. He fucked up. But that did not give Robby the right to treat him like a child. Like he is the one throwing a tantrum. He takes a deep breath and holds it until the unbridled rage is smothered out. Or at least contained. Standing up he pockets the bar and gives Robby a tight smile.
“Thanks Dr. Robinavitch, I sure will.”
He walks out without another look Robby's way. He feels slightly bad for leaving Mel like that and for her to witness the uncomfortable tension he knows they exude when they get like this. But he had to get out of there before he said something he'd regret. Again.
Frank makes it to his station pulling up his screen hoping to see lab results. Waiting for it to load, he takes his phone out to check his messages. Jack isn't a fast typer, and he's always slow getting back to people. Once Frank had gone through a whole shift before Jack would finally respond to his question about dinner he had sent that morning. Needless to say, Frank has learned calling him was the best course of action if he wanted a quick response. This morning however, Frank played chickenshit and sent an apology text.
There was still no reply.
It didn't mean anything, but at the same time Frank's heart constricted. And for the nth time that day he asks himself why is he such a fuck up? Pocketing his phone he pushes everything out of his mind and focuses on his current case. Taking in the results and figuring out the next best course of action for his patient. He might be a mess in his personal life, but he was a damn good doctor, and he would not let his patients down.
Well not again, anyways.
Knowing the next steps to take, Frank stopped by Dana's station to grab a RedBull on autopilot. Thoughts on a CT scan that will need to be ordered he didn't notice someone in his space. Before he could even pop the top, the can was roughly taken from him. Frank jumps slightly in surprise, eyes wide on his assailant. His irritation kicking up when he sees just who it is.
“I mean it, Frank,” Robby's voice is low, demanding. “No more caffeine.”
Frank can't help the small shiver that runs through him from the tone alone. How dark Robby’s eyes are. Cursing his body for its Pavlovian response, he tries to turn that heat into anger and glares at Robby. “You can't-”
“I can. I am.” Robby places the drink far away from his reach. Then just stuffs his hand in Frank's front pocket, ignoring his squawks of protest, just to pull out that damn granola bar.
Robby pushes it against his chest, ordering him to, “eat.”
“I will lat-”
“Now.”
“Everything alright here, fellas?” Dana walks towards them coming back from the ambulance bay, eyeing Robby as she places a hand on Frank's back. “Don't need a spectacle in a busy E.D. do we, Robby?”
Shaking his head Robby gives a grin that’s sarcastic as hell, the type of grin that makes Frank itch with guilt and anger all at once. “I'm teaching Dr. Langdon here the merits of fueling one's body when having a demanding job.”
“Oh, well, valuable lesson indeed.” Dana grabs the granola from Robby. “How about I hold onto this for Langdon, here, while he goes and checks on his patient with the mysterious abdominal pain.”
Frank knows that’s an opening for him to go-Dana bless her-but he’s rooted by Robby's challenging stare. If he left without eating that granola, well that would be another mark against him. He hates being in anything other than Robby's good graces, something he was working on in therapy. How he tends to spiral when anything but praise is falling from Robby's lips. It's not good for either of them.
‘It's called fawning, Franklin. What you need to know is that you are enough.' his therapist, Jared, told him a few sessions ago.
Fawning, it was something he’s never heard of. Apparently he has a hard time saying no to people he cares about, how he is attuned to their needs, putting theirs above his because of the fear of rejection. It was most likely-Jared had lobed this idea at him-why he started treating his own back injury. He hadn't wanted to burden Abby who was dealing with two young children all day. He remembered how Robby had laughed when he mentioned how he hurt his back, so after that Frank decided he could do it. He could fix himself. That worked out so well. If anything he came out more broken. He broke his family.
Broke Robby.
Feeling shittier than ever, Frank decides now's a good a time as any to put his therapy in to practice, and since he already has a huge mark against him from this morning then what was another? Robby's jaw ticks when Frank turns away from him, and heads to his patient.
His heart is pounding so hard, he doesn’t even hear the greeting he gives to the older gentleman with the abdominal pain.