Chapter Text
There’s incessant knocking on the door. Frank goes to open it—he can handle being disturbed, he really can—and manages to hide his disappointment, though just barely, when it’s Cobb, of all people. He has both hands in his pockets, and he looks…
Well, like Richard Cobb.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you on the phone all morning,” he says, before he even enters the room proper, and Frank bites his tongue.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cobb. I gave orders not to be disturbed,” Frank manages. He’s a shit liar, sure, but he’s good at being cordial, something he puts to the test now. For Michael and Geoffrey’s sake, he’s been kind enough to Cobb.
Cobb enters the room, clearly not taking his (not all that hidden) hint. “You might have made an exception in my case.”
“I didn’t expect you,” Frank answers, following, “I’m doing some extremely delicate work,” Work that could decide if your cousin stays invisible and goes mad or not, he doesn’t say aloud, but it’s there nonetheless.
“What work can be as important as all that?” Cobb stops and turns. “Haven’t you heard the news? Geoffrey’s escaped, noose practically around his neck.”
Fuck. Oh, fuckshit. Frank hopes to every deity possible that he can manage to sound at least half believable. “Yes, it’s—incredible, isn’t it?”
Cobb removes his hands from his pockets in his waistcoat, looking at him like he can see right through him. He probably can, how they’ve managed to keep as much as they have from him is a mystery. “Well, that’s an extraordinary attitude to take, I must say.” He puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket, now.
Frank needs something to do with his hands—with his entire body, because if he looks at Cobb too much then this will be too evident, written all over him like a confession, and he can’t afford that. Not after they managed to make Cobb not only send money to Jack when he was in Iping, but also for the part where they managed to convince him to give Jack a postmortem pardon and managed to get even more money from him to get the Cranleys and Jack to the continent. And now Frank’s gone and turned Geoff invisible too.
He needs a drink. Instead, he goes to the apparatus closest to him.
“What can I do?” Frank asks him, sliding the door on the apparatus up so he can pretend to use it, watching Cobb carefully.
“‘Do’? You must find him and help him! And Helen.”
Shit. “Helen, with Geoffrey?” Frank asks, then mentally smacks himself with a rolled-up newspaper. At this point, maybe he deserves to get caught out.
“Isn’t that natural for a fiancée?” Cobb sounds almost reasonable, even as he circles like Frank’s prey that he can rip to shreds. Technically, he can—Frank doesn’t answer to Cobb, by any means, but with Geoffrey first in prison and then on the run… Cobb’s in charge by default. Frank looks down. Cobb continues, “she went out this morning and hasn’t come back yet. He’s escaped, she’s disappeared. Man alive! Doesn’t it mean anything to you?” He removes his hands from his jacket pockets, this time, gesticulating at him. Cobb's thing with Helen has always been weird, but right now Frank’s just glad that he hasn’t managed to make the inside of his cheek bleed for how hard he’s biting it to stop himself from giving the whole game away. Yeah, Frank thinks, it means that you’re closer to figuring out what happened with Flora and Jack than you think you are. Instead, he stays quiet, trying to avoid eye contact. “They’re in danger! They’re hunting him, and she’s with him!” Cobb starts walking towards the window, his back to Frank. “They’ll shoot him on sight!”
“...on… sight?” Frank manages to get out, unable to look at Cobb at all. As long as he can keep his words and his breathing even, and he can get through this conversation, it’ll be fine. It’ll all… be fine.
“Knowing your friendship for Helen…” Cobb starts walking back towards Frank, hands back in his jacket pockets, “and Geoffrey, it’s safe to assume that you wouldn’t be working here as calmly as you are, unless you knew where they were.”
Frank makes the mistake of turning towards Cobb. He’s doing a fantastically beautiful job of fucking this all up, really.
“I don’t think that you have any reason for that assumption,” Frank says quickly, going to the shelf to grab two glass containers before he turns back to the apparatus.
“You’re evading my question,” Cobb watches him carefully. “It’s obvious that you know where they are.” And now, more annoyed—obviously displeased with Frank working while on the clock, “Put that stuff down!”
Frank turns back to him, one glass container in hand. “Mr. Cobb, please don’t think me rude, but I have an enormous amount of work to do,” it’s not a lie, and he’s lucky for that. He does have a lot he needs to do.
“Now, look here, Dr. Griffin,” Cobb says, quieter, more careful, “I’ve supported this laboratory in the tradition of my cousins and their humanitarian ideas.” It takes more from Frank to not laugh than it should—he’s done more than just support Frank’s research, he’s also helped them get everything sorted for Jack. “I must ask you to give me the same consideration as you would give to them.”
And that’s the funny thing, isn’t it: Frank was best friends with Michael, and he’s been… for lack of a better term, ‘romantically involved’ with Helen and Geoffrey for multiple years now. All four of them had been close for as long as anyone could remember. But Cobb? Cobb was just Michael and Geoffrey’s older cousin.
Frank just nods slightly. “Gladly.” he says, and again—not a complete lie. He does wish that he could do it gladly. But Cobb isn’t where his loyalties lie, and he never has been.
“Very well, then. If they’re together,” Cobb brings his hands from his pockets again, clasping them behind his back, “if Helen is with him, they have no money. You must tell me how I can help them—it’s criminal not to!”
Goddammit. Frank looks away. “I’m sorry,” he says, turning completely, back to his apparatus. He puts his glass down, giving his work his full attention.
Cobb finally seems to take the hint. “Very well.” He decides.
Cobb finally leaves, and Frank can feel a significant amount of tension leave his body.