Chapter Text
Sensitivity training comes and goes. Everyone has something to say about it, but all in all it does seem to be a success. At least partially, as each member of Robby’s staff finds something interesting to bring back with them out of it.
As for Frank, it's Crus who puts two and two together and comes out with the right number. He siddles up to his fellow R4 one evening while he is attempting to review an article for Robby in the breakroom and point-blank asks “So, what's the diagnosis?”
Frank doesn't tense. He had expected someone would be asking themselves the right questions after their training. It wouldn't be hard to link their boss' sudden interest in new approaches to his younger partner. His sick partner. And Robby certainly had had one hell of a turnaround since that awful day last September!
Not to say he was particularly big on PDA or anything. No, that wouldn't be Robby's style. But there was something about the way he would hold himself when Frank was in the room, the easy intimacy that exudes every time they were together in a room, that clearly spoke of a relationship.
That and the simplest, more obvious tells the like of which: arriving together all the time now that they were living together, the two of them coordinating schedules in between two patients to make sure someone could go and pick Tanner up, disagreements about coffee brands and detergent. Boring, mundane day-to-day things that spelled couple more than any grand gesture ever could.
Crus is a sweet man. Very private. Very respectful. If there is one person Frank would trust with this information out of his fellow residents it is him. And Mohan, he mentally adds, catching her curious look at the two of them. She tilts her head, her way of asking him if he wants her there or not for that conversation.
Mohan has always been attentive other's needs for privacy. She has to be the one person who absolutely did not need sensitivity training.
He nods to her to confirm her presence is welcomed and she immediately relaxes, making him frown. Maybe he and Robby need to take a look at how she is dealing with everything going on in her life. He thinks he remembers hearing something about her mother? And they honestly have to cut out the Slow-Mo nickname! It was a stupid thing to put onto her anyway.
He looks between her and Crus before dropping the big, bad word. “Fibromyalgia.”
Crus reacts just as he'd expected, grimacing in sympathy but not altogether surprised. “Shit man. That sucks.”
Mohan concours with him, now eyeing him with something like sympathy and he forces himself not to get offended at the thought. It just means she cares he tells himself, it's not pity!
Frank just shrugs, ready to go back to his work. “It's what it is.”
“Yeah, well. You tell us if you need anything dude.”
The big man pats his back then he is off, knowing better than to push, leaving him and Mohan to an easy, companionable silence.
Frank does try to make progress on his article, but every time he reads the damn Material and Method it's like he forgets the first paragraph as soon as he is done with it. It must be the fifteenth time he has been trying to get through this!
He groans, pressing his palms on his eyes and attracting his fellow resident’s attention. “You're good?” She checks.
Frank vaguely gestures towards his laptop. “Yes. I-this M&M is driving me crazy. Can't focus on it for the life of me!”
Mohan chuckles in commiseration, well aware herself of the sometimes very obscure explanatory chapter they can find in articles. She says something but Frank's mind is already under again and he doesn't catch it. “Sorry what?”
It is only when she repeats herself and he checks out a second time that he finally realizes what's going on. He drops his head on the table in a defeated sigh, knowing he won't be able to progress more tonight.
“Sorry” he apologises once again, not wanting her to feel like he isn't paying attention. “Brain fog. Looks like I’m just gonna have to stop here tonight.”
She scoots closer at his admission, taking a look at his computer. “I can review this part for you if you want? God knows I’ve had to look through enough M&M these days.”
He perks up at the offer, the stress of getting behind already in the back of his mind. “You do that?! Remind me I owe you drinks later then!”
That's how Robby finds his two oldest residents once he is ready to turn in for the day, Samira on Frank's computer while his partner is half sprawled over the table, slowly and painstakingly exchanging ideas with her.
Xxxx
Robby should have realized what was happening the moment Harris asked if they could meet the “promising young man he is always talking about and citing in every one of his presentations”.
Because Harris is a mean asshole. Jealous of other’s success, be it professional or personal. Always looking for a fight. Always searching for a way to demean others and with a contempt for the new generation the size of a yacht.
He should have known that the man was not asking to be introduced to Frank to praise him for his work. Not with who he is.
Even less when Robby’s presentation was something as ‘progressive’ as the actual cost of their health system for their society (calculated by including work absences, the creation of a black market, thievery and addiction, the loss of able bodied workers, the use of GoFundMe…) compared to that of European countries. And, to add insult to injury, Frank’s own, earlier presentation had been about the need for a stronger sex education program in America and the reality of its failings in the American population.
But he is so proud of Frank, so incredibly gone on his partner, that the thought doesn’t even cross his mind. As soon as someone asks for him, he is more than happy to invite Frank to the pulpit with him.
The younger man comes rather graciously, a polite smile firmly stamped on his face, his defenses already rising up. Frank always had sharper instincts than him.
Robby realizes his mistake as soon as Harris opens his mouth. His questions are vicious, their aims are clearly to poke holes into Frank’s credibility rather than encourage discussion, not hesitating to use his R4’s status as a weapon against him.
As if the fact that Frank is still a resident inherently means that his conclusions cannot be trusted. That they can only lack in experience and perception. Nevermind the fact that PTMC is one of the best. That Frank is one of the smartest minds Robby has had the honor to teach. That he has more than likely treated more patients in a month than Harris has this entire year.
Frank keeps the civil façade all through his interrogation, the picture perfect example of poise and polite aloofness. But Robby can already see the toll it is taking on him! That pained tenseness in the way his resident holds himself now that his fight or flight reflex has been triggered. The one that tells Robby he is going to be a quivering mess, hardly able to care for himself the next day if he doesn’t extract him from this situation as soon as possible.
He looks to their moderator, exasperated at his lack of intervention, and recognizes one of Harris’ residents. Damn! Of course they’re not going to intercede! The whole thing would just fall back onto them.
Looks like he is on his own.
“Not that these questions are uninteresting, but I think we’re well on our way to exceed our imparted time. Harris, you’re welcome to come and find us if you want to talk more about this. Or even better! We always have opened ‘visiting residents’ slots at PTMC. We're always happy to host new trainees if you want.”
Laughter fuses in scattered bursts across the room as the man turns a violent shade of purple. Robby doesn’t stay to look at the impact of his words and their implication as to what he believes the man’s level to be, too busy guiding his partner out with one hand onto his arm and the other to the small of his back, hoping he has taken actions in time to spare Frank from having to endure a flare in the middle of a conference week, far from home and all the comforts their Pittsburgh house can offer him.
Xxxx
The tackle comes out of nowhere.
One moment he is minding his own business, sashaying between gurneys to return to his patient, the next the entire world explodes in a firework of pain and light show in his brain!
He drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes, unable to process, unable to decipher what’s happening beyond the pain.
“...ank!!”
Sound booms in his ears! He brings his hands to his head, but pain fuses at the sudden movement! He hurts! He doesn’t know what’s happening!
He hurts!
His head is going to explode!
“Fra… Ca… …ear me?!”
Movements around him. Shadows running. Someone touches his arm and he recoils. Violently.
A high-pitched whistles, coming right from the inside of his ears, is all he can hear, blocking out everything else!
Then several arms are around him, lifting him onto a gurney. A scream is torn out of him! He begs, lost and terrified! “Mike! Michael! Hurts! Don’t let them-”
A calloused hand comes to caress his cheek, thumbs brushing over his lips. “Frank! Listen to me! Listen to me sweetheart, please!”
Frank tries. His head is screaming! He can’t take stock of his body! He doesn’t know how he got here! What happened?! What’s going on?!
His eyes roll around wildly as panic sets in, unable to focus! He hurts! Why are they all touching him? He doesn’t want them! He bucks against the next set of hands, straining against the shadows forcing him down, Michael’s voice not registering. “Frank, stop!” “Shit!!” Is that Abbot? A clatter. Did something fall?
“Frank, listen to me! Where does it hurt?” Where does…?! He doesn’t know! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Something squeezes against his wrists and he shrieks, his brain receives the input in the form of burning electric shock! “FUCK!” Santos’ terrified voice comes from far away as he trashes in the soft restraints.
“Shit, he’s hurting himself!! We need to sedate him!”
“NO!! MICHAEL!”
Robby’s hands are back on his face, forcing him to look at him. “Frank! Listen to me! It’s ok, you hear me? It’s ok. We’re gonna help you, ok? That’s it, just look at me. Keep looking at me, sweetheart.”
A prickle in the crook of his elbow comes out like someone is ripping his vein open! He whimpers, trashing sluggishly, tears falling down his cheeks as Mike croons into his hair, ignoring his begging, telling him everything is going to be fine.
As suddenly as it all started, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. His struggles die down, there is a rushing in his arm. Cold, burning. Then all he can see is the brown of Robby’s eyes.
Then nothing.
Xxxx
Robby’s still trembling, hours later, his body unable to get out of its high-alert state.
The sight of Frank going down, head and back smashing into the gurney had been bad enough. Would already have ensured countless sleepless nights in his future.
But to hear Frank scream for him the way he did, desperately pleading for his lover to help him, to stop them from hurting him… His stomach lurches and not for the first time in the last hour he hurtles towards the sink, throwing up what little water he had managed to drink!
He brings his forehead against the cool top of the sink, choking off a sob. A small hand he knows well settles on his back, bringing warmth with her.
It is only then he realizes how cold he has been feeling.
Dana says nothing. A silent support behind him, present even when Robby is breaking at the seam. “He couldn’t… Oy gevalt! Dana! He couldn’t parse through the pain! He was so lost! He didn’t know what was going on!”
The head nurse lets him word-vomit all over her, keeping her own grief locked away at the moment. “And he is going to be fine. I know he is going to be fine! But fuck! It’s everything he did not want to have to live through. They’re all going to wonder. They’re all going to ask questions.”
“They won’t Robby.” She assures him with a gentle voice, still rubbing circles on his back.
“Or course they are! Anyone would-”
“Mohan has already put a stop to it. They might have questions. But they won’t ask them. They know he has chronic pain, and it’s all they need to know. And Frank is going to be fine. A bit banged up. And good for a few days at home and a worker’s comp, but fine.”
Robby’s bigger frame shudders under her hand. In relief or an adrenaline drop, she isn’t certain. He rests his head on the counter once again, between his elbows. “Fuck! Fuck fibro! He couldn’t even tell what truly hurt and what was his brain going haywire! I hate his illness!”
Dana comes to rest her forehead on his back, a support as much as commiseration. “Me too, Robby. Me too.”
Xxxx
The next flare is one of the worst. How could it not be?
Robby takes a sabbatical, because there is no way in hell he will be able to do his job correctly when all his waking moments are spent worrying about Frank. Wondering if he is going to be able to get up and use the loo? Whether he will make it to the kitchen or fall in the hallway and have to stay there until Robby comes home? If he is going to find the strength to continue exercising enough to not let this flare become even worse than it already is?
So he takes a break with him. He takes Tanner to school in the morning and picks him up in the evening. He takes the dog for walks, finally putting in the time and work he needed to for the little beast to start obeying him as well as she obeys Frank. For the first time since he became chief attending, his in-mails box is clean.
When Frank feels better, he comes with him to Tanner’s school, the walk a good exercise for him. They make a little excursion out of it. Taking the dog, and stopping for ice-cream on the way back.
The first time, Tanner screams at seeing his Dada here for him and throws himself into Frank’s arms, forgetting for a moment about his illness. Frank clutches to him just as strongly, his happiness at this small victory a tangible thing.
It is also Frank who suggests Robby take his bike and goes on a trip once he feels better enough and able to take care of himself. Just him, for himself. He is worried about helper’s fatigue, and about Robby’s very real tendencies to heap everything upon himself. He takes some convincing, and the younger man has to bring in Dana and Jack to help him convince his partner. But finally, the attending relents.
“One week.” He says, the first time he caves in. His three closest people look at him with deadpanned stares.
“Three” argues Frank, arms crossed. Robby stares at him in absolute disbelief, then snorts.
“Not happening. Unless you tell me you’ll be spending these three weeks at your parents.”
“Are you out of your mind? I am not imposing this on my parents.”
“Then no.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them, sharing an amused look with Dana. “One and a half.”
“Where the hell do you think you’re going to go with that little time? Out of Pittsburgh and back home by Wednesday? Two and half.”
Jack intervenes before he can argue. “Ok, that’s enough, you two. Two weeks, non negotiable.” He nods at Frank, then settles on him. “And you send postcards. So we know you're actually going somewhere.”
He ends up taking the scenic road to Milwaukee, sending blurred photos to Frank every day, and exactly ONE postcard once he is there in a slightly passive-aggressive move. He spends his days doing much of nothing, people-watching, visiting museums and fishing in the rivers along the way. Sight-seeing a bit here and there and trying out dinners on the road.
It takes all he has not to come home early. Not to pass through Detroit without making a stop. But he knows how cross Frank will be with him if he doesn’t bring some Sanders bumpy cakes back for Tanner to try.
But come back he does. Exactly two weeks after he left, to the hour. No. He is not trying to make a point, thank you very much.
He walks into the living room to be greeted by the sight of Frank, working on his computer, his back to him, focused on the text he is writing with a frenzy. Tanner is nowhere to be seen, nor is the dog, and the house is surprisingly silent for a Saturday afternoon.
He can’t help himself. He approaches with quiet footsteps, bending near his lover’s ear to nuzzle at the soft skin, pressing a kiss at the juncture between neck and jaw.
“Hello you.”
Frank jumps in his arms, turning around with a wide smile to kiss him full on the mouth. “Michael!” He giggles in his mouth, drunk on the sight of him. Well damn! If this is how he is greeted every time, maybe he should take a week or two on his own a bit more often.
He stops Frank before the man can start nipping at his neck and turn their reunion into something a bit more heated.
“Where’s Tanner?”
His partner blinks, as if he is only realizing the lack of a child in the room now. Then his eyes lit up and a gleeful expression transforms his face. “Probably bothering Jack. The man has taken to napping here the last week” his expression tells Robby he suspects him to be behind this development. The man feigns ignorance. “And Tanner has taken this as a challenge to catch him unaware and draw silly stuffs on him in his sleep.”
Robby can only groan, aware that Jack is going to hold this against him for the longest of time. “Please Frank, don’t tell me you set our kid loose on Jack?”
“Tell me you didn’t sic your best friend on me and I will.” The R4 immediately quips back, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, challenging him.
Robby comes to rest his forehead against Frank’s, a chuckle on his lips. “Sweetheart, the thing I do for you.”