Work Text:
Reader who had been friends with Frank since medical school. Who had noticed the change in his behavior during his R4 year. Never having time to ask him, they chalked it up to being a rough patch with his wife. Trouble in paradise.
But one night before Pitfest, he landed at their door. Not wanting anyone from work to see him as he couldn’t have them knowing. He hadn’t been entirely truthful about why he was there. Acting like he’d been kicked to the doghouse. Reader eventually found out. The erratic behavior—how on edge he was. As if he was walking a tight wire. Finding a half empty bottle of pills in his bag.
Reader sternly told him to leave. Which set him off. “I can’t stay here!? What do you mean, Reader? I’m your friend!” All of it reminded them of when they were a kid. Seeing their mom call every morgue and emergency center in the city. Asking if their sibling was there. Spending the whole night in the car because of it. Then again, they had come from a family of addicts. It somehow managed to heavily sink its claws into a set few of their family members.
“Frank, please don’t do this. Don’t make it worse.” Their tone soft and pleading. Hating how he used their friendship against them.
“No! Tell me precisely what I did to deserve your ire right now!” His face red with how he was shouting at them. Causing Reader’s ears to ring. “You’re an addict Frank who needs help. I know damn well you got a temporary prescription when you injured your back.” It had been enough time that the prescription would’ve ran out.
“I don’t need help!” Flat out denying that he had a problem despite the fact he’d come to depend on them to get through the workday. That he was now stealing them from patients. “I can’t do this! I cant—I can’t watch this happen again.” Reader chokes, storming up to the front door and opening. Having almost lost their sibling to their alcoholism, they mentally couldn’t stomach witnessing someone hit rock bottom again. As bad as a friend that might make them. “Addict or not, get out of my fucking house.”
Frank paused his stomping right before the door, “you’re not going to tell, are you?” The small part of Reader that’s still clinging onto their friendship despite it being now scattered is the one that ends up speaking. “…no.” Nodding, Frank finally leaves, not without slamming the door on the way out.
Reader slides down to the floor. Back against the door, they bring their knees to their chest. Chest heaving as they finally let themselves cry. When the duo are the same shift a week later, everyone can tell something had happened. But neither Frank, nor Reader remain tight lipped whenever anyone prods.
No longer the dynamic duo.