Chapter Text
Six years down the line PTMC has to shut down during a massive trauma event. Their team is sent to join Presby in order to provide relief there.
They arrive just before the brunt of the victims does, right in the middle of Presby’s ER implementing their zones and triage, and Robby immediately reports to the Chief attending, a woman named Strauss, to see how their staff can be implemented.
The beta takes one look at him and shouts “Langdon!”
Robby’s breath dies in his throat when he hears the omega’s name. Six years. Six long years since he last saw him. Since he last had the opportunity and privilege of admiring the amazing doctor that Frank was at work. More than likely still is.
And here he is. Not even ten feet away. The mild swell of his belly that speaks of a new pregnancy visible under his scrubs. Robby’s heart beats a loud staccato. He knows Jack’s does the same.
Frank doesn’t immediately see him. His head snaps to attention at Strauss’s call and passes him by to stop on Garcia. A smile breaks out despite the situation. “Well! if it isn’t Edwina Scissorhands! Did the Pitt really send us their butcher? Should we expect the menagerie to come next?”
Garcia scoffs loudly. “You’re playing with fire ER Ken. You’re sure you’re not gonna end up sleeping on the couch tonight?”
“Nah. He wouldn’t dare” Frank drawls with a satisfied smirk, one hand tapping lightly on his baby bump, the other already supporting his back in between moments. “I am delicate.”
And just like that the two of them are back on their banter, like no time has passed since they last played with one another (which might just be the case). Strauss is clearly used to her coworker’s sassy nature because she doesn’t even try to reign him in, simply going along with the flow. “Once the two of you are done with your dick-swinging contest” she adds with dry amusement “Would you mind coordinating with Dr Robinavitch and his team?”
“Sure thing Boss! Pedes has finished evacuating, we’re turning their room into the Yellow Zone. Dr Robinavitch? If you would follow me?”
Robby winces at the use of his full name but gathers himself. Now is not the time.
Watching Frank excel and thrive is a sweet kind of pain in and of itself. Not just because his every move is an arrow into Robby's old heart, but also because he can see how much more stable the Presby team is. Yes, their usual patient rates score lower than the Pitt every year, but even now, in the middle of a crisis, the attending can see what they bring to their care.
The support system and structure built into Presby’s ED is just… it's there. Discreet, but always present. Doctors and nurses and auxiliaries all dance around each other in a well-oiled ballet. They are efficient and driven, but they are also always on the look-out for each other. And Robby can't find any judgment when someone breaks, or when Frank has to call in for another colleague to have him prescribe benzos.
He hears Santos mutters something under her breath about it but pays it no mind, preferring to listen to McKay when she directly asks Frank “Aren't you done with the program ? Shouldn't you be able to prescribe them now?” As if mentioning Frank's addiction is a normal thing to do. The omega only shrugs, already busy with one of their first arriving victim. “Safer that way. Less temptation for me. And Prescott doesn't mind.” Doesn't judge is what is kept between closed lips.
Dr Mohan is there, overseeing the Pink zone while Frank and Dr King handle the Red one. The members of the Pitt are dispatched between each. Strauss overseeing the entire thing.
Then the rest of the night shift arrives, and Ellis can't stop herself from blurting out. “Holy shit! Langdon! Are you trying to remedy the natality crisis all by yourself ?” as Shen snorts into his drink in shock.
Frank rolls his eyes, sharing a look and a fond smile with Melissa King as their patient is finally wheeled away. “Hardly. And it's Langdon-Park now if you want to use names.”
“Didn’t your boss call you Langdon though?” Whitaker asks, some timidity still clinging to him even after all these years.
“Yep. But that's because she is old. Can't ask too much of her. Not if I want to keep her.” Strauss passes him by at the same moment and smacks the back of his head with rolled up papers, her eyes going to the sky. “Not if you want to keep profiting from my inability to cook for a single person you mean.”
“As if you don’t love it. You use that excuse every time you think I have been withholding my children from you.”
She sniffs disdainfully. “Well, someone has to spoil these treasures. And they are in dire need of more women in their life.”
At that both Mohan and King guffaw, and it is Prescott who points out, irony dripping. “Really Boss? I haven’t seen any other man be friends with as many women as Langdon is. It’s like he just picks them on the sidewalk.” And Garcia jumps on the opportunity.
“More like, we picked him up from the sidewalk. The man is a disaster.”
“Okay you all, that’s enough hair-tugging for today! Everyone listen!” Strauss raises her voice to get their attention, the ER immediately snaps to attention. “We’ve just received a communication, the bulk of victims is going to arrive anytime soon. You all know what is expected of you, what zone you have been assigned to. I will be your supervisor, Dr Langdon and King will be your referents for Red, Dr Mohan for Pink and Dr Prescott for Yellow. Let’s do this!”
And with that they are swapped into the traumas arriving on their doors, waves after waves. No one has the time to joke or make small-talk.
It takes hours. Long, gruelling hours, where exhaustion and stress and fraying nerves battle with adrenaline and sheer stubbornness to keep them standing. The work is never-ending. Right up until it ends and they are left standing, swaying and so fucking weary.
“Where’s Frank?” Jack’s sharp voice startles Robby, who had been ready to park his ass on the nearest stool to catch his breath. He takes in the room only to come to the same conclusion Jack already has. Frank is nowhere to be seen.
An old worry awakens within him and he can’t help but smell the air, searching for the omega’s pomegranate and milky scent. “Stop that.” Mohan looks at them severely from where she just finished with her last patient. Not far from her, Prescott is giving them all curious glances, most likely picking up on the rising tension. “He is in the breakroom. He needed a moment. Braxton-Hicks really started to kick his ass in the last hour.” And is that supposed to abate their worry?
Strauss adds “Speaking of which. Someone called that alpha of his? Because that man is not driving himself back home on his own tonight.”
Neither Robby nor Jack wait for the answer as they head for the Department's breakroom. They find him still there, half-reclining on the couch, one hand under his belly and the other stroking the round mound, deep in conversation with Garcia. Even from there, both alpha can see the ripples running though his bump. The two friends raise their heads in tandem to stare at them unblinkingly like the two siamese cats they must have been in another life.
Garcia’s eyes narrow at their sight, distrust thick in her demeanor, until Frank lays a hand on hers, attracting her attention. “It’s okay, Yoyo. They’re not going to hurt me. Can you give us a moment?”
She scoffs but complies, squeezing his hand once before leaving the room, not without brushing coldly past Robby and Jack.
Frank rises into a seated position, gesturing toward the chairs scattered all over the place. “Come on you two. Get comfortable.”
They sit awkwardly, drinking in the sight of the pregnant omega. The man they could have had. The life they could have had. And they see the cheeks, full and flushed with a healthy glow, the sparkling eyes, the sharp wit. The confidence they’d stripped Frank of during his last months at the Pitt.
Robby doesn’t think he has ever regretted thinking he did not want kids as much as he does now. He doesn’t think he has ever regretted wanting to discard Frank so completely as much as he does now, confronted with the living proof of what he could be, when treated well. When loved and supported and cared for so openly.
“I am sorry Frank.”
Both Frank and Jack look at him in sharp surprise. The other alpha clearly not having expected him to be the first to say it.
But Robby has been wanting a chance to make this right for years now! He is not letting this one slip through his fingers. He offers him an open hand, palm facing upward in an invitation.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever said it to you. And I should have. I hurt you. I… I wronged you, terribly. Because I was too selfish and too much of a coward to take a good look at myself. You deserved better. And… I want you to know. I lied that day, on the roof. I did want you in my ED. And I always will. There isn't a world where I would not want you in my ED.”
Frank blows out a jagged breath as an old pain is, at long last, put to rest by Robby’s words. He takes his hand, like the peace offering that it is. Then Jack is here, his own two hands enveloping theirs. “I’m sorry too. I should have come and see you during rehab. I should have done a lot of things. But I didn’t. For that, I am sorry Frankie.”
The omega offers them a tremulous smile, fighting back tears. “Thank you. And… well, I’m sorry too. I fucked up a lot back then. We might have been shit to each other, but I am still responsible for my actions.”
“You are. But you were hurting and you were our omega. And you didn’t feel like you could come to us. And that. That’s on us. Not you.”
Frank does cry after that. Sending his two ex-partners into a panicky mess because for all the work they’ve put in getting better, Robby and Jack are still emotionally constipated men at the end of the day.
“Tanner and Penny miss you something crazy you know. They’ve talked about you so much that Amylin keeps asking when you will come to see us!” He warbles between a laugh and a sob. “Why don’t you come to the house one of these days, to surprise them?”
“Not sure your alpha is gonna let us through the door kiddo.” Jack chuckles, not far from crying himself at the idea of any kind of second chance. But Frank replies, with the assurance of an omega whose opinions and desires have been valued and cherished as they should “Oh no. B wouldn’t do that without consulting me first. He knows better. Don’t you?”
Robby and Jack jump around to find the Shark standing there, casually leaning onto the doorframe. He only has eyes for his mate. “If that’s really what you want…” And Frank offers him a very sweet smile.
“It is. Now come help me, I want to go home and elevate my ankles but that couch is a bloody trap!”
Park does just that, extending his hand for his pregnant partner to take and snaking the other around his lower back, steadying him once he is standing upright. Frank turns to them. “I am serious, though. Drop by someday. My number hasn’t changed.”
Then he and the Shark are off, waddling slowly towards the surgeon’s car. Leaving the Pitt’s attendings to their thoughts. To their grief at a lost future and their recriminations.
And to their hopes.