Chapter Text
Frank finishes his residency with a bang. One that he shares with Mohan.
Although, from what Jack has told him, this would not have been the case if not for the combined intervention of Gloria, Shelby Adamson and Frank’s very own, until now, up-to-speculation new boyfriend: Crus Henderson.
Fucking Crus Henderson!
Discreet, soft-spoken, nephew to Gloria, Crus Henderson.
Crus Henderson, who had started eating healthy lunches at the same time Frank had and was definitely big enough for his sweatshirts to swallow his fellow R4 whole. Who called Frank doll and pet and even, sometimes, precious, to Robby’s ever-present vexation.
Who had gone with Park to bring Frank home from rehab, more than a year ago, and slept on his couch as he and Abby found their new footing and decided how they wanted the rest of their life to go. Who had met Duke and impressed him so thoroughly there had never even been any question of any kind of shovel talk.
Who loved Frank enough to want to throw him the biggest party possible to celebrate his achievement, all the while knowing his partner would be too embarrassed to enjoy it to the fullest if he was the only person of honor of the evening, and had thus made sure to get Samira in on the plan and celebrates her own success at the same time.
And whom Frank loved to the point of willingly submitting himself to Gloria’s and Shelby’s fashion whims. Although, here too, he had found a way to add Samira’s presence to the shopping trip, arguing that if he was to be dressed to the absolute nine, so should his twin star of the night be.
Roby is never going to get over how delicious and unattainable his “ex” best resident had looked as he arrived on Henderson’s arm tonight. Dressed in a deep burgundy top, as backless as that one time at the Benefactors Gala, the fabric hanging onto the man’s throat by a thick turtleneck and pooling on his hips to merge so seamlessly with a heavy, pleated skirt of the same color, long enough to brush against the floor and slitted from feet to waist on its right side, that looked like the entire thing was a jumpsuit, even with the difference in fabrics between top and bottom pieces.
A model who had wandered his way into an Emergency Department.
Into Robby’s Emergency Department.
He looks radiant, on Henderson’s arm. Ethereal in a way only care and safety could let him be.
Every bit the man Robby could have had.
In another world. In another Universe. One without the drugs and Robby’s own unresolved trauma. Where he could see how people’s struggles and failures were not about him and not against him and where Frank had trusted him enough to come to him before it got to that point.
One where Frank turned right and Robby turned left so both could meet halfway at the right moment.
“My God, Langdon, you are looking far too gorgeous for this place! Gloria and Shelby outdid themselves tonight!” Jack greets the younger man, taking him in with an impressed (and hungry) gaze and, ever the charmer, bestows a light kiss upon Frank’s hand. The poor man flushes to a red nearly as deep as his clothes, smiling nonetheless.
“Then you can pride yourself in being one of our inspirations, Abbot. The suit you wore at the gala last year made quite an impression.”
“Highest of praises coming from someone so incredibly dressed. Are you sure there is no way for you to be convinced to ditch Crus over here and come home with us?”
It is said mostly with humor, and it is exactly how the couple takes it, laughing alongside Jack. But Robby has been practicing the man long enough to recognize the longing hidden beneath the jest. The regret of not having taken the time to get to know Frank for he was outside of Robby’s shadow before it was too late.
The attending isn’t surprised by the discovery. Jack’s tastes have always been rather similar to his own, and the man falls in love more easily than people would think. He just… doesn’t usually stay in love.
“Robby?”
He smiles. A true smile, despite the aches and the bitterness of loss. Having sufficiently made peace with his own jealousy this year to be able to offer this to his star pupil. “Frank” he acknowledges, greeting him with a light hug. “Jack’s right. You are resplendent.”
The man giggles in his arm, squeezing him slightly before pulling away. “You two wait to see Samira then. If she doesn’t go home tonight with B following her like a little puppy, I’ll eat my top.”
Jack leaves an outraged squawk, clearly unhappy with the idea. “The Shark?! With our Samira?!”
It is Crus’ turn to smirk, a maniacal grin taking over his face. “Well, if Shen doesn’t make his move, it’s certainly not Park who is going to wait. The man knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid to go for it.”
And for the first time in a loooong time, Robby is treated to the sight of a stuttering, near speechless Jack Abbot. “Wha-Shen? But I thought…” he trails off, eyes still on Frank who burst out in raucous peels of laughter.
“Me?! Oh my God, Abbot! What gave you that idea? Shen is as straight as they come! He just likes chaos. And a little bit of flirting.”
Robby joins in on the ribbing, ignoring the little voice in his head reminding him he is no better, having himself thought an undefined number of people in their ER were lusting after Frank. And Duke. He could not forget Duke.
All in all, the evening is a resounding success. Mohan is certainly quite the sight, and even more uncomfortable with all the attention she is receiving than Frank. But that might also be because she is less used to it. The Shark does, indeed, not lose a second before offering her a hand and spends the rest of the night behaving like the perfect gentleman no one from the ED knew he could be.
There is good food and a good mood, and when Whitaker, closer to blackout drunk than merely tipsy, gets the music started it doesn’t take much for everyone to mingle and dance. Jack is quick to steal Frank from Crus, shamelessly pretexting a right to first slow because of his leg and sliding his hand as low on Frank’s backside as decency can let him.
Robby’s ex resident shoots him an amused look over the veteran’s shoulder and he can only snort, raising his glass of champagne in a mock salute.
Then it is Duke’s turn, and Abby's. And after Abby it is Penny who twirls with her Daddy for three dances. It is Dana and Gloria and Shelby, whose presence is a painful pang to Robby’s heart but also a relieved one.
Contrary to him, she had not let herself drown after Montgomery’s death. And Robby can only be thankful for that.
Frank still dances with Park. And Donnie. And Jesse. With Emma, Perlah and Princess, and Robby watches. An outsider to a life he thought he knew. To a person he thought to be his so thoroughly he had deceived himself in believing he could cast him out and come back to pick up the pieces when he finally felt like it.
It had taken him all this time to understand that Frank had never been his to lose. Even then, Frank had not just been Robby’s best resident.
He had been Abby’s husband, Tanner’s and Penny’s Dad. He had become Crus’ partner, had always been Duke’s kid and Park’s little brother. He was, and would always be Yoyo’s best friend, Dana’s not son and the nurses’ favorite.
He had been Robby’s, yes. But not in that sense. And Robby himself had ensured that.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t expect the young man to come sit by his side as soon as he can extract himself from the dance floor, looking disheveled and a little bit tired, but glowing with happiness in a way he had not seen in a long time.
“Pheww! I thought I would never get away!” he jokes, sweaty and out of breath. “Don’t expect me to dance with you too!” he warns him, making Robby smile into his glass. The attending has two left feet, and anyone who ever had to accompany him to an event knows it.
“I wouldn’t dare” he murmurs, still reeling a bit from his last bout of melancholia. Frank, it seems, catches the last dreg of sadness still lingering upon his face because the next thing he says hits a little too close to home for Robby to absorb it.
“You haven’t lost me, Robby. I’m still here, am I? And unless the contract I signed two weeks ago is a complete fake, I’m going to be here for quite a while yet.”
For a sharp second, Robby closes his eyes.
“You know, I really hate it when you read me like that. I’ve already got Jack and Dana on my case. Don’t go making a team with them now.”
“Do I need to? Is it a prerequisite to becoming a day shift attending?” Frank jokes, but the look on his face is all too serious, breaking Robby's heart all over again.
If only he had offered him the same compassion, the same kindness… maybe Frank would have been his tonight.
“I'm sorry Frank.” The man perks up with worry by his side, not following him yet. “I don't think I ever said it. I'm sorry for how I treated you. I really fumbled you didn't I?”
The smile Frank gives him is painfully wistful. “Maybe. But so did I. You're not responsible for my fuck ups Robby.”
“But I certainly did not help them.”
“You didn't.” He agrees, shrugging with an ease Robby wishes he could feel. “You had no obligation to.”
And it is his turn to agree, except his nod is full of bitterness and self-loathing. “Maybe not. But that's the choice that defined what we were, isn't it? That's when I definitely stopped being someone you could ever think of as reliable.”
“You are reliable, Robby. Yes!” He insists at Robby's disbelieving grunt. “You are. Maybe not for that. Maybe not for me. But I have other people to help me now. Stop putting so much on your own shoulders. That's the reason you fuck up. And that's when you hurt us” he adds with a whisper, his eyes following Samira across the room. The phantom sensation of piercing fangs comes down on Robby's heart once more. Another person he'd handled terribly.
“I love you Robby. A part of me always will. But I've moved on. Do the same, give yourself that grace. I don't want you to live with all these regrets.”
He laughs low in his beard, the sound full of shards and brittleness. “You're a better person than I am, then. I wanted you to hurt. I fucking worked for it.”
“And you think I didn't? You think I said those things to you that night, in the bay, just to defend myself? Robby! It might not have been a completely conscious thing. But I still knew what I was doing.”
It seems they’ve arrived at a stalemate. Both finally capable of admitting to their wrongs, yet unable to go any further. Robby dives into the bright blue eyes of a man that had never truly been his, and would never be, and takes a leap, coming to rest his forehead against Frank’s.
“I'm sorry, Frank. I don't think I would have loved you right, not with how fucked up I was then. And how fucked up I still am now. But I wish I had taken the chance to love you all the same.” Frank smiles against him, slightly nuzzling his nose in an Eskimo kiss.
“I don’t think we would have been good to one another, Robby. We’re too similar for this to work. You and I… It was just a dream. Stop torturing yourself with it. Let us go.”
And for all that it hurts terribly. That it hurts fiercely. That it makes him want to scream and beg and sob… It also feels good. And if Robby ends the night crying all the tears in his body against Frank’s warm and wonderfully solid presence in a corner of the room, no one who might have witnessed some of it ever mentions it afterwards.
The morning that follows sees Robby finally able to greet Frank with a smile that is not weighted down by mistakes and history and the bittersweet regrets of a what if.