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Chapter Text

The air had never felt so frigid to Frank Langdon.

Frank felt as if he were enduring an arctic winter, his skin feeling like ice as he stood outside of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital ER with a feeling of hopelessness engulfing him. He was now alone and an idiot for allowing himself to end up unsupported. His pride, unaddressed fear, and pure arrogance…his weak belief that he could handle his life himself…had cost him everything.

Exhaling softly, Frank reached up and silently rubbed his left eye with his hand until all of the concealer came off, revealing an ugly bruise that was all the way around his eye and extended down to his cheek. There was no point in hiding his face now…now that he was alone.

Abby had made him wear the concealer to hide her gift from him after she had sent him back to the hospital to get the drugs from his locker, the drugs he had promised her. He had tried to tell her that Dr. Robinavitch had taken them, and he was now fired, but Abby had gotten aggressive and her punch, like all of her punches, had landed and she had warned him to get the drugs so she could sell them. Her customers expected them and she expected him to come through. If he cared so much about her, Abby had yelled, why wasn’t he willing to help her with her business?

They had gone back and forth for a while and then Abby had told him to think about their children: the money from the drugs was going to help them because they couldn’t afford to. Frank had asked her if she even cared about the fact that he was killing his career over helping her and could also be arrested for stealing drugs for the purpose of selling them. Abby, however, had not been swayed and had aggressively reminded him that he had also benefitted from her business as a customer, taking pain meds when his back flared up and then also taking for withdrawals when he realized his body hadn’t handled the prescribed meds well and he had been forced to quit them cold turkey so he wouldn’t get sick or have a heart attack. That decision to quit cold turkey, Frank knew, had been stupid, and his decision to medicate himself had been stupid. Hell, all of his decisions had been stupid, but Santos’s tattling and Robby’s reaction to finding the meds in his locker…he had felt trapped into keeping quiet and had decided to stay trapped because he felt nobody would understand.

Not caring about his poor excuses, Abby had nailed him in the face, sent him out the door, and told him not to come back without the meds even if it meant he spent the night on the street. Frank had gone back to the hospital while working up the courage to tell the truth about everything when he had come across the chaos from PittFest. After that dust had settled, his fear and anxiety had led him to get arrogant with Robby and things had gone to hell pretty fast…

And now, as Frank stood there, trying to debate whether or not he should tell someone…anyone…the truth, his cellphone began to buzz in his pocket as if Abby had read his mind and knew that he was tempted to come clean to his former colleagues.

Sighing anxiously, Frank plucked the phone from the pocket of his scrub pants and answered the call. What greeted him was a cold chuckle.

“Did you get them, Frank?” Abby’s cold voice filled the phone. “Did you?!”

Frank began to sweat profusely, much like he had during work, and it was as if Abby could see through the phone, “Of course you didn’t get them, you weakling,” Abby snarled, nothing but venom in her voice. “Turn around.”

Swallowing hard, Frank did as he was told and froze when he caught sight of two very tall, very husky shadows standing in the shadows of the emergency room entrance, just out of sight, “I suspected you’d fail, Frank, so I decided to send a couple of my dealers to teach you a lesson…”

Without waiting for Abby to finish, Frank began to run as fast as he could away from the hospital because he didn’t want to risk anyone there getting hurt if the dealers happened to be armed. They had all already been through enough that day with the trauma of PittFest and everything that had happened after that. He knew he was leaving himself vulnerable and away from help by running away from the hospital, but he figured Robby had already declared him to be a lost cause and had gotten him fired anyway, so what was the use of asking for help now? Everyone who he actually cared about had given up on him and he couldn’t protect his kids because Abby was always threatening to leave and take them with her if he didn’t turn a blind eye to her business and help when he was asked to. His marriage was abusive, he hated it, and he wanted nothing more than to leave, but he loved his children and so he had stayed and his anxiety from home and his bad way of dealing with it had popped through at work, ultimately destroying his access to the one place he considered safe from his unsafe home and family life.

He needed to be a doctor, and he needed to work within the safety of the hospital for refuge from home, Frank knew, but his needs didn’t matter now. He was going to die. Even if he outran the two dealers that Abby had sent to follow him to The Pitt, she would simply send more after him because she knew most of the dealers throughout the city and most of them had weapons or the ability to beat people until they died or gave whatever was required of them…

An arm suddenly wrapped around his neck, yanking Frank off the ground and profanity filled his ear. He had been caught. As the arm continued to hold him in a headlock above the ground, Frank felt another pair of hands going through the pockets of his scrub pants and tearing them.

Even though he knew it was a stupid idea, Frank began to kick and felt his legs connect with something, so he continued to kick and started thrashing even though he knew his air supply was running low and the one holding him could also simply snap his neck if he got pissed enough.

Suddenly, Frank felt himself being dropped to the ground and as his left arm was twisted behind him, he felt his back being kicked repeatedly by a hard piece of footwear…most likely a steel-toed boot. A crack and a pop subsequently filled the air and at the same time, Frank felt a boot connect with his abdomen right before he felt a hand yank his head back by gripping hold of his hair. A fist quickly connected with his nose before his face was slammed into what felt like a rocky path. Finally, a boot connected with the side of his head, sending intense pain through his skull.

Rapid footsteps immediately filled the air after the fact as the dealers tore off into the night with their hands full of all of the cash in Frank Langdon’s wallet and his credit cards, things that they had taken as payment for his failure. They would of course get Frank’s credit cards back to Abby, as she used them to feed herself and her children and to also finance her work, but they would keep the cash as compensation for the strenuous effort that it was to tail Frank and teach him the lesson that Abby had requested her wayward husband learn. It had been an effort that had pulled them off of their selling corners and had also resulted in minor injuries for each of them, as Frank fighting back had been unexpected. He didn’t fight with his fists at home, according to Abby, so teaching him a lesson should have been easy…but Frank had proven an unexpected challenge.

Unsure if the dealers had gone or not, Frank slowly lifted his head, but his neck immediately screamed in protest. He could see his wallet and his phone laying on the ground just ahead of where he was laying and the wallet looked like it had been rifled through, but his vision was slightly blurry from the loss of oxygen he had experienced and from being kicked in the head, so he wasn’t entirely sure what was missing from it. Gasping weakly, Frank tried to get up to get his wallet and phone, but his left arm wasn’t responding to his brain’s want to get up off the dirty ground. In fact, he couldn’t feel his left arm at all.

I’m in trouble. Frank thought anxiously as he lay there, realizing he had been an idiot for many, many reasons, including running away from the hospital and the help that was there…help that could have saved his life. He immediately extended his right arm, ignored the pain he felt from the movement, and attempted to drag himself forward to his phone with his arm extended towards it, fully intending to call 9-1-1 for help out of his predicament, but his back suddenly screamed in protest and refused to accommodate his brain’s demand to move. More pain also shot through his neck, forcing him to lower his head and take his eyes off of his phone and wallet. God. I shouldn’t have run. Frank thought as he lay there, completely helpless and struggling through the pain rocketing through every part of his body. Tears filled his eyes, but crying only increased the pain he was feeling and it was also becoming more and more difficult to breathe. He had to stop himself from crying, Frank knew, and conserve his oxygen, but the pain and his grief was so overwhelming…

Oh, God, Robby…I lost my fight. I lost. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. Frank thought, his mind on his former mentor and friend as he lay there, fighting for air and consciousness. I killed my friendships, I killed my job, and now I’m dying alone. I’m dying for someone who didn’t really love me. Robby, please forgive me. God…if there is a God out there…please forgive me for going along with Abby’s idea and putting up with her business and her abuse. I was doing it to feed and protect my kids from whatever horrors they might have faced out…out wherever she would have taken them had I made the decision to break away. I was drowning myself because of Abby’s abuse and demand that I compromise my job to help her, but my kids…they’re innocent. They needed protection. Santos did the right thing by turning me in, but I wish I had shared the whole story with Robby when we were talking outside. I screwed up, though. I just deflected, ignored my problems and need for help, and instead pushed my friend away. I even tried to downplay my problems to Dana and get her on my side and turned against Robby even though I should have been real with her. I should have also apologized…to everyone…for everything. I’m a failure, I’m a liar, I was drowning, and now I’m dying. I’m dying, I’m alone, and nobody is going to find or help me…

Suddenly, Frank felt himself vomit, and he quickly began to feel dizzy. Oh, God. He thought anxiously. This is it. I’m going to die. I destroyed my life and now I’m dying in hell. A hell I made for myself. I’m so arrogant and weak and scared and anxious and now I’m paying for it. I’m…

As darkness claimed Frank, his cell-phone suddenly began to ring and light up with caller ID.

The name on the screen was none other than Dr. Michael Robinavitch, who was identified by his nickname ‘Robby' on the caller ID.

Frank, of course, had no idea Robby was calling him and reaching out to finish their conversation because Frank was no longer aware of anything at all.

Chapter Text

It was just before sunrise, but Dr. Michael Robinavitch was refreshed enough from a nap, a shower, and a hot breakfast at a hole-in-the wall diner near his place to return to The Pitt for another shift. He had chosen to walk through the park that day with his music in his ears to clear his mind before work, as he was pissed off, drained, and trying to figure out what to do about someone he had once considered a friend.

He hadn’t told Administration about Frank’s problem yet, as he wanted to finish his discussion with Frank about the problem first and see if he could convince him to get some help…help that would allow Frank to keep his job and dignity intact.

Robby did not want to lose another friend and he had phoned Frank last night to try and talk to him or at least arrange a time and a place where they could finish their discussion, but Frank hadn’t picked up the phone. Robby had then left it alone, deciding to tend to his own personal needs, but had promised himself he would try to phone Frank once he got to work that day, as he was not ready to give up on caring about or helping the man.

Robby felt bad for how their discussion had ended. Frank was anxious and had said a lot of ugly things, but Robby knew that yelling, losing his temper, and being anything but patient with his obviously struggling friend had not helped. They should have waited to talk, Robby knew, but they hadn’t and now Frank was off God knows where and had probably gotten as high as a kite to deal with the anxiety from the fight.

Having Frank fall away into that rabbit hole was a loss worse than losing someone to death and it broke Robby’s heart, as he had already lost one beloved colleague to a situation beyond his control and losing Frank…his friend…

A crunch suddenly filled the air as Robby felt his right shoe come down on something hard. Swearing, Robby quickly removed the earbuds from his ears, jammed them in the pocket of his scrub pants, and looked down to see a cell-phone underneath his shoe. A strangely familiar cell-phone…

Deeply uneasy, Robby took his foot off of the phone and quickly noticed a familiar wallet laying near the phone, a wallet that was open and showing an ID. Frowning, Robby peered at the ID and got even more uneasy when he saw that the license inside belonged to Frank Langdon.

Why are Frank’s wallet and phone here in this park? Robby thought worriedly. And where…?

A faint, muffled groan suddenly filled the air, one that immediately sent chills down Robby’s spine because he recognized it. He immediately looked up to see a body laying half on the footpath and half in the dirt, a body that was sporting a familiar mess of dark hair along with one hand outstretched in the direction of the phone while the other obviously looked injured. The head was down, and Robby felt sick, immediately realizing who it was and why Frank hadn’t answered the phone last night. The man had obviously been violently attacked in the park and had probably laid there alone for hours. 

A quick once-over of Frank told Robby that the man was barely breathing and was also laying in a pool of blood, probably his own…

“Oh God…please…no…” Robby breathed anxiously as he got his own phone out to call 9-1-1 while continuing to do a basic assessment of his heavily battered friend without touching him because he didn’t know how badly injured Frank was and didn’t wanna risk accidentally hurting him more. “Frank! Frank, can you hear me?! Frank! Frank, it’s Robby! Don’t die on me now, Frank!”

At that moment, however, Dispatch answered, and Robby was forced to use one hand to hold the phone so he could alert them to the situation while he used the other to try and provide aid.

Santos and Whitaker had survived their first night together as roommates well enough, as each of them had retreated to their corners of the house after they had gotten Whitaker and his meager possessions to her place. They hadn’t talked much about Whitaker’s homelessness in the morning, but Santos had left him a handwritten letter with a bowl of breakfast cereal and juice, a letter that urged him to tell Robby that he had struggled with homelessness and also seek counseling for the trauma that it was to live on the street.

Whitaker had pocketed the note, silently promising to consider both pieces of advice, and then he had eaten breakfast and gotten ready for work only to find that Santos had waited for him so that he didn’t have to go to work by himself. They had taken public transit to save Santos fuel and although neither of them had talked about last night or Santos’s letter, they had gone to work feeling happy and like they would do very well as roommates because they could communicate their needs and care for each other’s wellness in ways that didn’t always require a verbal conversation.

As they entered The Pitt, however, their united tranquility suddenly shattered as they heard Robby yelling anxiously, “No, no, no!” Robby yelled angrily. “Do not die on me! We are not done!”

Alarmed at what might be going on, Santos and Whitaker hurried through The Pitt towards the sound of Robby’s yelling and they were shocked to see an infuriated Robby, an alarmed Collins, and several alarmed looking nurses working feverishly on someone who was on a gurney while a monitor whined in the distance, but Santos and Whittaker couldn’t see the patient.

Robby suddenly cursed, “How dare you think that you could die on me when we are not done, Frank!” he shouted, a relieved expression filling his face as the monitor’s beep quickly steadied.

“That’s Langdon?!” Santos asked in a horrified voice, her eyes widening in shock.

Whitaker, however, remained unusually quiet as he stared at the mess that was Frank Langdon on the gurney. Did Frank’s wife beat him again? Whitaker wondered worriedly as he stared at the mess and chaos before him with shock in his face. He could hear people calling his name, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to Frank Langdon this time after hearing very quiet, but very painful stories from the man about his domestic situation when they had spent nights together at the shelter after the cold had forced them to seek refuge indoors.

Frank Langdon had spent a good deal of time on the street, Whittaker knew, because his wife was a violent drug supplier who took her frustration out on him whenever her business was struggling or clients failed to pay, which was quite often. During their quiet chats on the street or at the shelter, Frank had confided in him that he avoided home as much as possible to avoid the wrath of his wife, but he went home at least a couple of times a week to make sure Tanner and his daughter, Maria, were staying safe from Abby’s business and wrath.

Whitaker couldn't help but think back to what Frank had told him...the death of his oldest among the many grim things the man had shared with him. Frank Langdon's third child, Oliver, was now deceased because Abby had beat the child to death in a drug-fueled rage three years earlier for crying too much while she was trying to work. Langdon had been devastated, as there was nothing they could do for his oldest son and Abby had even held him at knifepoint as Oliver died, refusing to let the child be taken to hospital for fear that the police and social workers would find out how it had happened. Langdon had tried his best to help Oliver at home, but had failed and then Langdon had Oliver cremated because there was no money for a burial and he hadn't wanted the truth to get out. Langdon had lied to everyone at work, including Robby, that Oliver had suddenly died in his sleep and had stated that they had a private service with cremation due to a lack of money. Langdon had then entrusted Oliver's ashes to Robby and Robby had put the urn of ashes on his mantle, thinking that his friend wasn't able to deal with them yet, and Langdon had just let him think that rather than share the truth. The truth was that Langdon hadn't wanted anyone to autopsy his son and find out the truth behind why the death had taken place, as that would mean investigations and a good deal of trouble for himself, Abby, Tanner, and Maria that he didn't have time to balance with a residency. Unfortunately, Abby had become physically violent with Langdon after that, worried that the man was gonna talk despite Langdon's promises that he wouldn't ever tell anyone about what had happened to their son. Abby hadn't listened, however, and Langdon had gotten remarkably good at stocking up on and using concealer to hide every bruise or cut Abby had given him, dedicating himself to keeping the police away.

Whitaker had learned about this horrible tragedy and the ongoing, very tragic aftermath in the chats he had engaged in with Langdon while they had protected each other at the shelter and on the street from other homeless people who might want to cause them harm. Langdon, Whittaker remembered, had very firmly educated him on the fact that while a lot of homeless people were simply trying to keep safe while they worked to survive or even escape living in the shelter, life on the streets, or residency in the many homeless camps around the city, which had all gotten more congested since COVID had destabilized society to its core, there were some who were so desperate for resources that they could and would cause harm to others or even kill to get what they wanted or needed. Langdon had also very firmly advised him to avoid the camps if he could, as his stash of items would make him a target.

Langdon had then taken it upon himself to protect Whitaker whenever they saw each other out and about after work trying to find a place to sleep, making sure they had space at the shelter or in a safe area of the city. Whitaker had accepted that Langdon was going to be protective of him. Langdon, Whitaker knew, had not regretted looking out for Whitaker and taught him how to survive without getting himself into trouble, as he had been working hard to balance hospital work, street life, and his abusive home situation since Oliver’s death three years before, something he had never talked to anyone official about or sought grief counseling for. Whitaker had been grateful to have someone looking out for him. Now, however, as Whitaker looked at the mess that was his friend on the gurney, he felt sick. He should have said something…

“Whittaker, come in here!” Robby suddenly yelled. “You won’t learn anything from out there!”

Swallowing hard, Whitaker reluctantly entered the trauma room and stood next to Santos, watching as she prepped a chest tube tray along with narcotics that would make sure her former colleague didn’t feel anything. Before Whittaker could ask what he could do, Langdon suddenly woke and let out a pained whimper that didn’t have much power to it because he could barely speak. His eyes immediately went to the tray and the needle, “No…no drugs,” he whispered shakily. “I…I can’t…do this…anymore. I…I can’t…hide…”

“You really can’t, Frank!” Whitaker spoke angrily, his pity for Frank suddenly morphing into pure anger at both himself and Langdon for not speaking up before Frank ended up on the trauma table battered almost to death. “You need to tell Doctor Robinavitch that Abby’s been beating you for the last three years! You need to stop her abuse of you before she freaking kills you! What the hell is it gonna take for you to wake up and get some help, man?! Worse than this?! Do you wanna die?!”

Santos’s eyes went wide and Robby swore as they took in Whittaker’s sudden revelation, but Frank was appalled. Pain suddenly shot through Frank’s body, however, before he could muster what little strength he had to yell at Whittaker and correct him about who had actually assaulted him and he screamed before dissolving into a massive coughing fit that shot blood from his mouth, “I’m sorry, Frank, but we need to take proper care of you and to do that, we need to give you…” Robby began.

Overwhelmed by shock, pain, and Whitaker’s outburst, Frank started to close his eyes in an attempt to shut out the world and compose himself, but he suddenly went into convulsions instead.

“FRANK!” Robby shouted, horrfied that his friend might die. “Heather, Santos, do whatever you need to to help him! Whittaker…!”

“Is it really a good idea to…?” Santos asked reluctantly, not wanting to give Langdon anything when he had verbally refused drugs. “He said no, Robby…”

Robby, however, scowled, his expression full of rage, “Frank is not able to make decisions for himself right now, Santos!” he yelled. “This is no longer about what he wants! This is about us providing him with lifesaving medical treatment however we are able to! If you can’t do that, get the hell out of here and go call the police! Tell them there is a very serious domestic violence situation they need to come down here and get information about! Whitaker, are you absolutely sure…?!”

“Yes,” Whitaker replied shakily, realizing what he had just blurted out. “We…we talked about it when we were at the shelter together. Abby’s been beating Frank since she killed their youngest son…”

Robby’s eyes widened in shock at that, but Frank suddenly stopped convulsing at that same moment, and so Robby focused his attention back on him, “Get the police down here NOW!” he shouted, his anger at Frank quickly being replaced with worry, sorrow, and upset for his friend’s deplorable situation that seemed to be getting worse and worse by the moment.                                                                

Chapter Text

“How long have you known?”

Whitaker knew he was being addressed, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the lounge window he was staring out of because turning around would mean he would have to expose not only his life, but Dr. Langdon’s too. Langdon, Whitaker thought, was probably already pissed at him...

“Whitaker! Dennis!”

Recognizing Santos’s voice, Whitaker turned around and faced her, surprised to see the normally stoic intern standing not too far away from him looking anything but calm, “The late fall,” Whittaker replied quietly, his expression sad. “Like the end of September. We actually spent that evening together, ordering juices and sharing a plate of cheap food in a diner til they closed just so we could keep warm for as long as possible. School was closed for the night and Langdon…”

“That’s when you noticed the first bruises,” Santos realized grimly. “The end of September? How did you notice them?”

Whitaker sighed heavily, figuring he might as well share with Santos because he knew he was already in deep crap after basically exposing Langdon’s personal life to everyone, “I was in the diner already, getting some juice to keep my blood sugar up and I had to use the bathroom,” he explained in a shaky voice. “Langdon was at the sink using some rickety looking first aid kit and concealer to patch up some ugly cut on his forehead as well as trying to keep his nose from bleeding. He had bruises on his neck too. He looked like someone had choked him.”

Santos exhaled, her expression pained as she digested this information, “He got defensive as hell when I offered to help, but I told him that I didn’t need to know the story behind his injuries, I just wanted to help him, so he let me help him without telling me what had happened to him,” Whitaker explained. “After I helped him with the injuries and concealer, I talked him into splitting something with me and paid for it cause he had no money on him and his wife had stolen his credit cards as a punishment for something…”

“How often did he sleep on the street?” Santos asked in a concerned voice, deeply appalled. “And how often did you?”

Whitaker suddenly looked sad, “Once it got cold, around the middle of October, we spent more time at the shelter than not and we’d usually take a patch of floor in the corner so we could see what was going on around us in every direction and not get unpleasantly surprised,” he explained softly. “During holiday weeks, though, the shelter would be overrun with families and so we’d have to sleep in whatever spot outside was safe. We actually attended multiple religious services together on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day just so we could keep warm even though neither one of us really has much faith in anything. One of us would pretend to listen to the sermon and keep watch and the other would catch a catnap. Between services, we’d go find a cheap diner that was open and split a plate of food and have coffee so at least we got some semblance of three meals on Christmas. I think, though, our Christmas Eve dinner was much less than that, just bottles of Coke and packs of Twinkies that Langdon swiped from a gas station while the clerk was reading a magazine in the back cause a lot of places closed early. I can’t remember exactly. It wasn’t ideal, but Langdon tried to make it safe…and pleasant…for us. He was away from his kids for Christmas and it bothered him, but he and Abby…they had had some massive blowout on December 23^rd and he spent Christmas Eve and Day with a black eye…”

Santos looked uneasy, but said nothing, “I’m not even sure if Langdon’s kids got Christmas presents from him last Christmas because he was on the street with me trying to keep from freezing to death and that’s why he bought that dog for his kids,” Whitaker explained nervously. “They still have it, though, and it keeps Tanner and Maria busy and away from Abby’s activities and too busy to worry about Langdon. According to Langdon, Abby promised not to kill the dog or give it away and let him keep seeing the kids as long as he stole drugs from the hospital that she could sell. He’s not allowed home after dark right now, though, so he’s been wandering the streets at night after his shift and sleeping where and when he can. I try to keep track of him when I can, but we’ve been so busy lately that it’s been hard…”

“Holy hell…” Robby’s voice suddenly filled the air in a horrified tone, having overheard much of the story. “Are you kidding me, Whitaker?!”

Whitaker and Santos turned and were shocked to see Robby standing just inside the door looking shellshocked beyond belief. Whitaker suddenly looked scared, but Robby held his hands up to stop him from speaking, “I am not mad at you,” Robby spoke firmly. “I am not even mad at Langdon. I am mad at the world because things like this make me mad at the world. Anyway, the police finally got here after five hours of screwing around and ‘prioritizing’ our call and they want to talk to everyone. We also have people in triage that we need to attend to…”

Santos rolled her eyes, but left, but Whitaker stayed put, “I…I meant to tell you I was living on the street, I did,” Whitaker stammered nervously, scared he was about to get yelled at for being dishonest. “Santos…she and I talked yesterday, though, and she let me move in with her…”

“Well, at least one struggling person is safe and taken care of,” Robby replied in a concerned voice. “Let’s see if we can help care for someone else who’s struggling, someone that we forgot about.”

Deeply mystified by Robby’s sudden shift in attitude about Langdon, Whitaker nodded silently.

“Can I help at all?” Javadi asked in a nervous, slightly eager voice as she stood at the foot of the gurney where Langdon lay unconscious with an oxygen mask on his face, watching as McKay and Mohan prepared to reduce Langdon’s shoulder. “That looks…”

McKay scoffed, giving the perky little 20-year-old a stern motherly look, “This is not a teaching case, Javadi,” she replied coldly. “We are not going to prolong Langdon’s suffering just so you can learn a technique. Why don’t you go handle triage?”

“I want to help, though!” Javadi replied anxiously, quickly getting frustrated that she wasn’t being allowed to do anything on this case. “I know what I’m doing! I can help if you just let me!”

Mohan scoffed, “My God, Javadi, take a chill pill and go do triage!” she snapped coldly as Dana suddenly came into the room. “Dana…”

Dana, however, went right up to Langdon, gently brushed the hair off of his injured forehead and gently, “Oh, God…” she spoke softly, frowning when Langdon’s eyes suddenly fluttered open and he stared at her, slight disorientation in his expression. “Oh, hey there, Frank. My precious baby boy. Ohh…”

Deeply relieved to see Langdon awake, Dana leaned down and gently kissed his cheek before gently stroking more hair off his forehead, “Thank God you’re alive, sweetie,” she spoke gently. “How…?”

Ignoring how shaky he felt, Langdon suddenly reached up and removed his mask, “No…narcotics,” he breathed groggily. “People are touching my arm. It hurts like hell. Why are you touching it?”

“We’re prepping for a closed reduction and then we’re going to cast your arm,” Mohan replied simply. “We’re just waiting for some assistance so we can sedate you before we do it. Put your mask back on or Robby’s gonna freak…”

Langdon, however, scoffed weakly and coughed, “No narcotics,” he replied groggily. “Just do it. Robby thinks I’m a drug addict who can’t handle pain. I want to show him just what I can handle. I'm not an addict and just to prove it, I'm not letting anyone drug me up. I'll feel every bit of the pain. I deserve to anyway...I'm a stupid bastard who deserves to feel nothing but pain.”

Mohan and McKay exchanged a concerned look, but McKay glared at Langdon, “Whatever pissing match you’re in with Robby, Frank, now is not the time to show how macho you are,” McKay replied, wondering what Langdon was talking about. “Let us sedate you so we can take care of your arm.”

“What’s going on in here?” Robby suddenly cut in sternly, pissed off that McKay and Mohar seemed to be pissing around instead of working. “I thought you’d be done with his shoulder already….and why is he not wearing his oxygen mask?”

McKay scoffed, “Langdon won’t consent to sedation and he’s awake,” she replied irritably. “Whatever pissing match you two are in…”

Sighing heavily, Robby moved over to the head of the bed and stood on the opposite side that Dana was on, “I’m clean and I want to stay that way,” Frank hissed groggily, an expression of rage and sadness in his pain-filled face, even as he felt pain rocketing through his body. “You think I’m an addict who can’t handle pain, so…let me…let me show you exactly what I can handle. I would rather hurt than have you think I can't function without pain meds. By the way...I couldn’t handle the meds I was on for my back, the ones given to me by my doctor. They made me so dizzy and sick that I couldn’t function, so I went off them cold turkey and then promptly got sick enough to need Compazine, which I got prescribed to me at a clinic I go by on my way to work. I didn’t steal the crap you found in my locker for me, Robby. I stole it for Abby so she wouldn’t harm Tanner, Maria, or our dog like she beat Oliver to death three years ago when she was so drugged that even the littlest of things set her off, including Oliver crying for his mother. Oliver was just four years old when she killed him! You remember Oliver, right Robby? His freaking ashes are still at your place because Abby thought it was funny and exciting to beat and Oliver cause he was too noisy! Abby didn’t want those ashes around after the fact and she even got pregnant with Maria to try and make me forget about Oliver! She's threatened me repeatedly using Tanner and Maria as collateral to keep me in line and I spent my most recent workdays so full of anxiety and sweating buckets worrying I was gonna come home from a shift and find Tanner and Maria’s bodies just like I found Oliver’s…!”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Robby spoke anxiously, secretly horrified by Frank’s pain-induced rantings. “Just stop for a minute, Frank. Stop. We don’t need to talk about Oliver or anything else right now. You’re injured…”

Frank scoffed groggily, “Then reduce my shoulder, cast my arm, and let me go deal with this crap in my way!” he hissed in a weak voice, wincing as he spoke because the pain and the lights were becoming too much for him. “You already gave up on me, Robby. Why the hell are you even here?!”

Before Robby could reply and tell Frank that he had actually called him last night to continue their chat before taking any official steps to address the situation, Frank gagged, causing an expression of pure agony to appear on his face, but he didn’t puke anything up.

Tears promptly filled Frank’s eyes after that, causing him to close his eyes and choke for air so he could sob, “Easy,” Robby spoke gently, forcing the mask back on his friend’s face. “You’ve got quite a few issues other than your arm and your grief, Frank. Would you take a local anesthetic for the shoulder? You just gotta lie still, though, while we arrange all that. You’ve got a chest tube in your left lung and a central line and a catheter and you’re in a C-collar while your neck films, and heated IV’s trying to warm you up cause you were out in the cold for hours. You've also got a blanket on, so if you try and struggle, people will see you half naked...”

A jolt of pain suddenly shot down Frank’s spine and he cringed and clumsily grabbed the bedrail next to his right hand to squeeze the life out of it while he tried to breathe his way through the pain. He could hear people talking to him and trying to get his attention because a machine in the room was making noises of protest in response to his way of dealing with his back pain, and he quickly felt himself slowly passing out because the pain wasn’t going away through breathing exercises.

No, no, no. Frank thought anxiously, trying to calm himself and breathe so they wouldn’t forcibly sedate him. Unfortunately for him, what he was doing wasn’t working. Maybe…maybe I need to ask for help. Frank suddenly thought. My way isn’t working. It’s not working when it comes to a lot of things. I wonder if I can actually get some help with all of this. I’m too messed up to do it alone. All of my mess is overwhelming. I’m overwhelmed. I’m so, so overwhelmed. If there is a God of some sort…

Just as Frank re-opened his eyes to try and get Robby’s attention regarding the sedative, he suddenly felt himself being gently rolled and his head and neck being rested on something soft, “…Should we show the police his bruises?” he heard someone ask in a frightened tone. “They’re…”

Robby, however, was looking down again and Frank suddenly caught his gaze, “Hey, Frank, the, um…the police are wanting to come in and take photos of your injuries for their report after they get done talking to Whitaker in the meeting room…” Robby spoke softly, immediately able to tell that this whole experience was terrifying for his friend, so a gentle approach was required now no matter what crap they needed to sort out between themselves later on. “Good news, though, your neck and back don’t have any fractures, but you do have a broken nose and some broken ribs along with a concussion, a gash on your forehead, a skull fracture, a broken arm, and dislocated shoulder and some lacs to the face along with some bruises. That black eye of yours, though, looks older…”

Frank felt uneasy, but before he could try and get his mask off again to tell Robby to back off on mentioning his eye, anxious talking suddenly filled the air. Frank noticed Santos suddenly come into view out of nowhere and whisper into Robby’s ear whilst sporting an anxious expression on her face. Robby whispered back to Santos and Santos quickly hurried out of the room again.

Nervous that something bad was happening, Frank reached up to yank his mask off again so he could ask questions, but Robby caught his hand and held it against his cheek for a moment before gently setting it on the bedrail, “Someone get Frank a couple of heated blankets,” he ordered firmly. “And a temp check. He’s still feeling too cold to me. Those heated IV bags aren’t enough. Neither is this flimsy blanket…”

All talking and activity immediately ceased, however, when a gunshot could suddenly be heard somewhere outside of the trauma room.

Chapter Text

The room…it’s suddenly a lot quieter. Frank thought to himself as he lay there in silence, silenced only because Robby wouldn’t let him remove the oxygen mask again.

Frank knew that a good deal of people had left the room in a hurry once they had heard the gunshot, but he could feel Dana stroking his hair, calling him ‘kiddo,’ and telling him to just stay calm. He could also feel a hand holding his uninjured one in a gentle grip that pretty much kept him from being able to do anything but lie there. Robby’s voice was also doing something, probably making an audio recording of his injuries for the police since they weren’t in the room.

I’m tired. Frank thought, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion pass over him severe enough to block out his pain and wear him down significantly. It’s already been a long day. Dana stroking my hair is making me so sleepy. Maybe I should just go to sleep and pray that God…that he won’t let me wake up after all the crap I’ve gotten myself into. It would be better…

A gun suddenly cocked quite close to him and Frank felt Robby’s grip on his hand loosen, but he couldn’t move or speak. Dana swore, as did Robby and it was then that Frank knew the gun was probably aimed at him. Good. Frank thought darkly. Let them blow my brains out and let my nightmare be over. I’ll miss Tanner and Maria, but I’ll be with Oliver again and out of the nightmare that killed him and probably should have killed me by now. I’m so spent by it all…

“Hello there, Frank,” Frank suddenly heard Abby say in a dark tone he knew well, a tone that told him she had used before coming to him. “I think, Frank, that we need to go for a little walk to your locker and get what’s rightfully mine…don’t you?”

Who’s watching Tanner and Maria?! Frank suddenly thought worriedly, realizing that if Abby were there, their very young, very helpless children were probably either at home by themselves or in the hands of one of the dealers Abby sold to. My God, what have I done by allowing this to continue?! I should have just jumped off a bridge or slashed my wrists or even let myself take too many of the pain meds I had for my back or even overdosed on Compazine. Oh, God. I’m thinking about committing suicide by overdosing. I…I need some counseling. That…is not okay…God.

“…He cannot move!” Frank suddenly heard Robby argue in an angry tone. “Do you see this little container right here, Abby?! He has a tube in his lung because you beat him so badly that…!”

Abby scoffed, “Frank’s a weak little pussy,” she replied coldly, sneering at him. “Why would I waste my time doing all this to him when I have dealers who have muscle and can do a much more effective job? They did such a beautiful job of following him to work when I sent him back to work that he didn’t even notice he was being followed until he was done and ready to leave! And then, he ran off into the park like a scared little baby instead of back into his precious little hospital where my drugs were when I called him and asked where my stuff was! He needed a shakedown and my dealers needed payment for all the drugs he didn’t get! I can see the eye wasn’t enough, was it, Frank?!”

Oh, my God. Robby thought grimly, a horrific realization washing over him as he listened to Abby’s rant. I literally left Frank alone outside after our fight. Alone and vulnerable. I am a piece of…

The bed was suddenly raised quite quickly, and Frank cringed as he suddenly felt pain flood his upper body, “Get up!” Abby’s voice intensified. “And get that mask off your face! Now!”

Try as he might, Robby’s grip wasn’t strong enough and Frank pulled out of his grip and ripped the mask off his face. Dana’s scream suddenly filled the room as Abby shoved her away from Frank and promptly pointed a handgun, one her dealers had acquired for her quite hastily once she realized Frank was still not home with her drugs, at him with one hand while she grabbed his face, gripping on to his cheek with her nails, and yanked his head towards him. Frank’s neck screamed in protest at the violent movement, as did the rest of his body. The gun, however, was promptly pressed into the center of Frank’s forehead, leaving him unable and unwilling to protest.

“My drugs, Frank,” Abby spoke plainly, no longer amused or concerned about whether or not her husband died. “Get up and take me to your locker. Now. I have dealers who have customers. Customers who are waiting for their fixes. Get up or I’m gonna blow your brains out and you can join Oliver. You probably deserve to anyway…or I might just kill Tanner and Maria and make you watch and then laugh at you when you tell me you want to kill yourself like you did when Oliver died. You told me all about how you were gonna jump off the roof of your hospital because it was your happy place. I just laughed at that because I knew you’d never have the guts to actually kill yourself…”

Frank blinked, deciding to go all in because his situation wasn’t good anyway and nothing mattered anymore because he was beaten to a pulp, probably fired, probably going to lose his license to practice medicine, and most likely going to be arrested once he was well enough to go to jail and it wouldn’t matter because Abby had probably already hurt or killed Tanner and Maria before coming to see him, “Yes, I do,” he replied weakly, his throat aching from speaking. “Give me your gun…and I’ll…I’ll show you. I’ll show you just exactly how much I’m thinking about it right now.”

Robby’s expression turned into one of horror and utter disbelief as he watched Frank reach across his chest with his right hand and extend his palm outward as if to accept the gun, “Since Oliver died, you always said I’d be better off joining him than sticking around, screwing up your life and being a bad dad to Tanner and Maria, right?” Frank spoke weakly, his expression pained as he did.

“Oh, Frankie, that is a tempting offer,” Abby replied coldly. “But no. I just want the drugs, and I’ll leave you to your want of death and the suffering you’re going through because you’re still alive and I’ll also leave you with your memories that I’ve been beating you every single day as a reminder that you should not still be alive. The drugs. Get up…now.”

Frank suddenly couldn’t breathe, “They’re gone,” he spoke shakily, not sure what Robby had done with the meds after he had confiscated the bag from his locker. “I don’t know…”

“What do you need?” Santos suddenly spoke up nervously, having slipped into the room to help protect Langdon after the gunshot had gone off. “We…I can get it for you since Doctor Langdon’s too much of a pussy to get up.”

Abby suddenly looked in Santos’s direction at an armed dealer that was standing just behind her, “Follow her,” she ordered sternly. “You know what you need. Shoot her if she tries anything. I’m going to stay right here with Frankie and we’re going to have a little chat while we wait for you. If you’re not back quickly, I might get bored and blow Frankie’s brains out. He wants that anyway.”

Oh, God. Frank thought worriedly as he heard Santos leave with the dealer. Now Santos is involved in my mess. It’s bad enough that Robby and Dana and everyone else…

A hard strike suddenly came down on the right side of his chest and Frank immediately knew that Abby wasn’t alone in the room with him. She had probably gathered multiple dealers before coming to The Pitt and all of them were angry with his inability to do what he had been asked to do. Pain shot through the right side of his chest as he felt another gun being pressed into the back of his skull, “Where…where are Tanner and Maria?” he rasped, peering anxiously at his wife as he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. “Tanner…he’s only four and Maria…she’s only….”

“They’re in the doghouse… just like you are now,” Abby replied coldly, suddenly frowning at him. “Why do you look like you’re gonna be sick?! God, Frank, you’re such a pussy…”

I’m bleeding inside my right lung and I’m probably going to throw up blood again in a minute. Frank realized grimly, trying hard not to pass out even though he was getting tired and lightheaded quite quickly.

The door suddenly opened, “We got them!” a voice called out. “And the girl’s gonna walk us out!”

Oh, my God, Santos…what are you doing?! Frank thought worriedly as he suddenly felt Abby kiss him and say something about seeing him at home later. God, I feel sick, but I…I can’t…I don’t dare…

Almost immediately, Frank felt the guns being removed from his head and he couldn’t hold back anymore after that. He began to puke violently while the sound of rapid footsteps and another gunshot filled the air nearby, “…Robby, he’s puking blood!” he heard Dana yell.

“They must have got his other lung when they hit him!” Robby yelled, worried about how quiet Frank was suddenly being. “Frank, can you hear me?! Frank, we gotta put the gurney down now so we can help…Frank!”

The last thing that Frank felt as he passed into darkness was the gurney being lowered as Robby continued to yell his name.

“Do you know how stupid that was, Santos?!” Robby shouted, glaring daggers at Santos as he and Santos stood together in the meeting room hours later, waiting for the police and hospital administration to come talk to them about what had happened. “You could have been taken hostage or killed! I am not going to lose any more people to life-threatening events! Do you know how lucky you were?! Do you?!”

Santos sighed heavily as she nodded, “A lot luckier than Langdon is going to be,” she replied in a pained voice. “What exactly are you going to do for him, Robby? He admitted things on tape…”

“He stole the drugs under duress,” Robby argued firmly. “And that’s on tape! I’m going to give the tape to the police and hope it’s enough to keep him out of jail even if I can’t save his license or his job! He’s been in a violent situation for three years and….!”

The door suddenly opened and Gloria came in with Dana, two uniformed police officers, and a professionally dressed person sporting a DCFS ID on a lanyard around their neck, “Doctor Robinavitch, can you please explain to me what the hell happened?!” Gloria asked sternly, her expression upset. “I’ve heard things about Langdon…things that I hope to God are not true…”

Robby held up the tape that had recorded the entire event, “I have evidence that Doctor Langdon stole the drugs from the hospital under duress,” he replied firmly. “Out of fear for his children’s safety and because his wife was abusing him into assisting with her business. I do not believe he would have done it if he were not under duress…”

Gloria looked slightly mollified at that, “Robby, you are so lucky that Doctor Langdon was such a big help to this hospital during the PittFest shooting or else he’d definitely be fired and facing the medical board about his having his medical license revoked,” she spoke firmly. “As such, there have to be consequences given to him because he did steal drugs from the hospital. With that said, the board’s decided to keep him employed here and in his residency, but without privileges to prescribe or administer medications without supervisory approval for 90 days with that restriction to begin whenever he’s able to work again, daily urine and blood tests for 90 days from that date, mandatory attendance at NA meetings for at least 90 days beginning upon his return to work so he can really understand how much harm his behaviors brought to others, weekly counseling sessions with Psych, and he’s going to be working directly under your supervision for a minimum of 90 days upon his return, which means you will directly supervise all of his cases and he will not lift a finger to help patients without you next to him. I’m not going to restrict him from traumas, though, cause frankly, we can’t afford to lose good doctors even if they have major issues like what Langdon is going through. He didn’t harm patients with the theft of the medications, thank God, but the board wants to keep it that way, hence their decision. I also want weekly progress reports from you about how he does once he is ready and able to resume work. Langdon, I think, will be able to do his job well enough as long as he follows his restrictions and has the proper support to help him be successful. Speaking of which, I reached out to Psych and told them to come talk to Langdon about everything he said when those dealers were here. Your charge nurse said Langdon was saying concerning things about domestic abuse?”

Deeply relieved that Gloria had not mentioned Frank’s suicide attempt or talk of suicide aloud even though she probably knew about it from Dana, Robby nodded and Gloria sighed before handing him a folder stuffed with papers and brochures.

“There is the paperwork outlining Langdon’s conditions for his return to work when he is ready and able and there’s also information in there about supports for survivors of domestic abuse,” Gloria spoke in a slightly softer tone, sighing. “You can tell him about the board’s decision whenever you feel it’s the right time, but he needs to read and sign that paper of restrictions before he’ll be put on the schedule again and he will work on the same shifts as you, meaning no nights for 90 days unless there is an emergency. In the case of an emergency, you will stay until he is ready to leave. If there are any indiscretions at all, the board’s prepared to act swiftly…”

Robby nodded, “Anyway, the police are currently looking for Abby Langdon and those men she brought into the hospital,” Gloria continued worriedly. “DCFS also visited the Langdon household and had to search the residence thoroughly before they found Tanner and Maria Langdon in the doghouse in the backyard. The family golden retriever was guarding them and keeping them warm, but they were scared and confused. Anyway, the kids and the dog are here being checked over and we’re looking for a temporary placement for them…”

“Oh, didn’t Frank say anything?” Dana suddenly spoke up. While I was talking to Frank earlier, he said he needed a phone because was going to call DCFS and ask if I could take his kids as an emergency foster parent because I have the license, but I guess he never got to make that phone call. Frank was telling me about how he didn’t feel his kids were safe at home with Abby and was asking me to take them while he was here. We were discussing how I could sneak in and get them out when Abby and those guys showed up. I called my husband after Frank was stabilized and he’s going to come get the kids in a little while. We have plenty of people here who can babysit them til then.”

Robby gave Dana a look because he immediately knew that she was lying about having that conversation with Frank, as he had been with Frank the whole time since he had been brought in and not once had Frank mentioned that when he was conscious, but he didn’t say anything because he knew she was doing Frank a favor out of compassion for him, “Call the police once you’re ready to take the Langdon kids home, Nurse Evans, and get an officer to escort you over to the Langdon home so you can get the kids their things in safety,” the DCFS worker spoke up. “With Abby Langdon missing and considered armed and dangerous…”

Dana nodded, “Whitaker’s with the kids right now, so I’ll tell him too,” she replied softly.

“Thank you, Dana,” Robby replied quietly, sighing as the officers and the DCFS worker left the room. “And thank you for being less than open in front of the police. Gloria…”

Gloria gave Robby a look, “We really don’t know if what Langdon said and did was him being real or if it was because he was under duress with two guns being pressed into his skull,” Gloria spoke in a softer tone. “If I had two guns pressed against my head…”

“I’ll sit with him a while and see how he is when he wakes up,” Robby promised softly. “He was moved to the open area so he wouldn’t wake to see the same space and be reminded of…all that. Whitaker’s got Tanner and Maria and the dog on a bed right next to where Langdon is so when Langdon wakes up…he might be more receptive to a conversation to see where his mind is at.”

Gloria nodded and gazed at Santos sternly, “And now, Doctor Santos, you and I need to have a conversation in private,” she spoke sternly. “I was also told about your actions during the incident. Doctor Robinavitch, Nurse Evans…if you could please give us the room?”

Exchanging a look, Dana and Robby left the room and moved back to the patient area. As they stood at the admit desk looking around at the busy Pitt, they could see Whittaker sitting on a nearby gurney with Tanner and Maria in his lap, smiling at the two young children as he read to them from an age-appropriate book that was most likely ‘borrowed’ from Peds. Princess, meanwhile, had wrapped the children in blankets and was checking their vital signs while a golden retriever sporting a service vest lay quietly on the floor near the end of the gurney, just past Princess’s feet. Robby paused at the vest, as it made him wonder if the retriever was actually for the kids or was in the process of being trained into a PTSD service animal for Langdon to help him with PTSD.

Deciding not to dwell on it, Robby silently made his way past Whitaker, Princess, Tanner, and Maria over to the next gurney where Frank lay unconscious and buried under heated blankets. Frank’s forehead had been sutured, bandaged, his nose had been set and bandaged, his arm and shoulder had been treated and slinged, and his right lung now had a chest tube in it to match the one in his left lung. He had also been given a non-aggressive painkiller for the heavy bruising, concussion, and skull fracture. IV Bags of fluids, antibiotics, and blood surrounded the bed and hung above the machines that sat on the far side of the bed. The whole sight made Robby sad and feel sick inside.

Sighing, Robby quickly found a chair and planted himself beside Frank’s bed. The golden retriever briefly lifted its head as if to assess whether or not everything was all right. Robby looked at the dog with a calm expression on his face to let it know that its owner was fine and being looked after, quickly reasoning that the dog was likely Frank’s work dog and things had probably gotten so out of control for Frank because Abby had cut off his access to his service dog by not allowing Frank home. A person in need of that aid could go to pieces quite quickly without it. Robby thought grimly. I’m going to have to definitely make sure that the dog doesn’t leave Frank again.

Robby knew he had to talk to Frank about that, along with many other things, as ADA regulations allowed for those in need of service dogs to be able to have them at workplaces and Frank had severely harmed himself and had impaired his ability to do his job effectively by not sharing his need for a service dog with the hospital. The hospital would have accommodated him, Robby knew.

A silver glint suddenly hit the lights above the bed, quickly catching Robby’s attention. He leaned over and saw that the golden retriever was sporting a blue leather collar with a large blue heart-shaped tag that listed Frank’s name, phone number, medical information, and the name of the dog.

The name on the heart-shaped dog tag was Oliver.

Robby suddenly found that he couldn’t hold back his tears, and he quickly sat facing straight ahead, holding a hand over his mouth to avoid disrupting the dog while it worked and to keep Whitaker and Frank’s children from getting scared. Frank had named the dog after his deceased son, Oliver, and had very nearly joined him in death today because of everything that had happened and that about shattered was left of Robby’s broken heart.

Suddenly, Robby felt a paw on his knee. He looked down and saw that Oliver staring at him intently, as if he had sensed Robby’s distress and wanted to help even though Robby was not his master.

Robby exhaled softly, knowing he had to calm himself down quickly so not to distract Oliver from being able to help Frank when Frank woke up, “I’m okay,” he whispered softly. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

Oliver, however, waited for a moment more before dropping his paw off Robby’s knee returning to laying down on the floor. Exhaling softly, Robby closed his eyes to take a nap because a short rest would be the only way he would be able to calm down and given what Frank had been through that day, Robby really didn’t expect him to wake for a while yet…if he woke up again at all that day.

Chapter Text

“…I’m hungry. Is Daddy up from his nap yet? Can he make food?”

Tanner Langdon’s tiny voice prompted Robby to stir and stretch briefly before looking around. He saw Whitaker still on the bed with Maria in his lap, but Tanner was awake, standing next to Oliver, and tugging Whitaker’s sleeve expectantly. Whitaker was trying to calm both children, but he was beginning to look overwhelmed and was obviously flustered by Tanner’s question about Frank and food.

Robby quickly checked his watch and saw that it was about 5 p.m. and rapidly closing in on suppertime. Just as he was about to tell Whittaker that he would take Tanner to the cafeteria and see if Peds had anything Maria might like, he heard a soft clink followed by a muffled groan. He turned to see Frank awake and looking around with his head shifted slightly to the right, trying to make sense of where he was while his uninjured hand lay limp on top the bedrail with an IV and clip on it.

Not wanting to scare Tanner or overwhelm Frank when he had just woken up, Robby quietly drew the privacy curtain and moved himself and his chair over to the other side of the bed so Frank wouldn’t put unnecessary pressure on any part of his healing body trying to shift himself so he could see what was going on around him.

The moment he sat down Robby could feel Frank’s gaze on him and quickly met it. Frank’s gaze then immediately went to the folder of papers that was sitting in Robby’s lap and he sighed heavily, sensing that those were his walking papers from the hospital staff and that Robby had already spoken with hospital administration about everything that had happened.

Robby, however, quickly moved the folder to the portable table near the bed where Frank’s heavily damaged phone and wallet and keys had been left after police had collected them and dusted it for prints as part of their investigation into the attack in the park. He knew Frank was going to pester him about the folder, but he also knew Frank wasn’t ready or able to address that quite yet.

A small pitcher full of water and a cup containing a straw also sat on the table and Robby silently poured Frank half a glass of water before turning back to him, “Do you feel like having a bit of water?” he asked softly. “Try not to move your head or neck too much. Blink if you’re thirsty.”

Frank blinked and so Robby carefully removed the mask from his face after checking that his oxygen levels were safe enough to do so. Frank immediately began coughing up a storm due to the fact that his throat was try, so Robby quickly fitted him with a nose tube and turned the oxygen on before putting the straw in Frank’s mouth, “Slow,” Robby ordered firmly. “You’ve had a long day.”

Not having the strength to argue or disobey, Frank did as he was told, closing his eyes as he drank, and spat the straw out once he felt the water was all gone, “Thank…thank you,” he breathed groggily, eyeing Robby nervously. “I’m assuming…Gloria…and everyone…knows…everything?”

Robby sighed irritably, as Frank looked like crap and clearly needed to rest, but nodded because he knew Frank would keep bugging him about it if he wasn’t upfront immediately, “Okay,” Frank replied groggily. “When am I going to jail? I did…a lot…of…really, really…bad…illegal…things.”

“Hiding abuse is heavily discouraged, as there are lots of resources available to help abused people escape from and recover from their situations, but it’s not illegal to hide it,” Robby replied softly. “It’s actually very dangerous for an abused person to hide that they are being abused because they leave themselves beyond help. I’ll be blunt, Frank. You scared the hell out of me and all of us today when I brought you in from the park and we all watched you fight for your life. And Whitaker…he talked with the police and the police understand you felt coerced to do the things you did. They aren’t arresting you, but they are going to be investigating Abby and her dealers and also filing charges of domestic violence against her. The police were here earlier taking photos and I was making an audio recording of your injuries when Abby showed up…”

Frank scoffed, “Tanner and Maria need their mom, Robby,” he replied groggily. “I’m hardly ever there and it…it would be bad for them if she wasn’t around.”

Robby suddenly looked concerned, but he wasn’t surprised that Frank was defending his abuser because he had seen the pattern in many abuse victims who had come to the Pitt seeking medical treatment: they would defend their abusers and try to find reasons why they needed the abuser in their lives. In the meantime, Robby knew, Abby probably wasn’t speaking well of Frank at all. She had been so venomous towards him that she had sicced drug dealers on him who had beat the hell out of him left him for dead in a park and was probably still speaking badly of him…wherever she was. At least Frank and his children and his dog are safe tonight. Robby thought. They could and worry about tomorrow when tomorrow came. Frank was going to be in the hospital for a few days, Robby knew, as he had sent the admission orders in for that himself and whenever upstairs got their crap together…

“Daddy?”

Frank suddenly blinked and Robby froze at the tiny voice, frowning as Tanner suddenly appeared at the foot of the gurney, “Hey, buddy,” Frank spoke groggily, extending his hand. “Come here.”

Tanner smiled and eagerly wandered over to his father, unbothered by the pure mess that his father currently was simply because he knew his father’s  gentle voice and was comforted by it. In response, Frank forced his arm over the edge the bedrail while trying to turn on his side and to scoot closer to the edge so he could reach his son. Unfortunately, his chest tubes, sling, and his neck and back kept him from being able to move. Worried that Frank was going to hurt himself, Robby scooped Tanner up and put him on the gurney close to Frank, but away from the tubes and IV’s. Frank slowly moved his uninjured arm so it was around Tanner.

Tanner yawned and scooted under the heated blanket and Frank looked down at him, “You wanna cuddle awhile, bud?” Frank asked softly as a quiet yawn escaped his lips. “Please? Daddy’s really…really tired.”

Nodding, Tanner cuddled up against his dad and quickly fell asleep and Frank quickly closed his eyes soon thereafter, wincing as he adjusted his head and neck so it better rested on the pillow.

As Robby sat there, he suddenly heard quiet giggling coming from the next bed. He silently got up and moved over to the next bed, confused and surprised to see several nurses, including Dana, fussing over Maria as Whitaker held her. Maria, at just barely one year old, was smiling, babbling, and laughing at the attention. Maria and Tanner both seemed unbothered by the day and for that, Robby was glad, as they would be safe tonight with Dana and her husband.

As Robby watched Maria be fussed over, Dana quickly spotted him and came over to him, “My husband’s running late tonight, Robby, so I was wondering if I could take my evening meal to go get Tanner and Maria their stuff?” she asked softly. “I also have a call into Peds to bring them something to eat soon so they can go right to bed when they get to my house.”

“Yeah, it’s fine to use your meal break for that,” Robby replied softly. “Did you call for a police escort?”

Dana scoffed, “And wait five hours for them to get here cause it’s a non-urgent call?” she replied irritably. “If I wait for the police, those kids won’t get to bed until ten-thirty and they’ll be cranky in the morning. They’re little children, Robby. They need to go to bed early. Santos offered to go with me so I won’t be by myself. We won’t even take the kids. We’ll be done faster if we don’t take them cause they’ll want every little thing with them. I just need Frank’s keys and address…”

“…Oh, bud, I know your tummy’s making noises,” Dana and Robby suddenly heard Frank say in a tired voice. “Did you have lunch today? God, I hope so…”

Dana silently walked over to Frank and picked up his keys from the table, “I’m gonna take Santos over to your house and get things for the kids,” she explained as Frank eyed her worriedly while trying to keep hold of a squirming Tanner with his one working arm. “Do you need anything?”

“I don’t keep my things at the house,” Frank replied tiredly, giving Dana a pained look before he suddenly closed his eyes because he was overwhelmed by the reminder of why he hadn’t done that and had stored extra clothes in his work locker. “My key to my storage locker is on my keyring. It’s the little silver one and the address to the locker is in my broken phone. The key to the house is the bigger gold one with the square top…”

Dana frowned as Frank suddenly went quiet mid-sentence and tensed right up. Before she could call out to Frank or ask for help, Oliver suddenly came over to Frank’s bedside and began licking Frank’s uncovered fingers very urgently, “Wha…?” Frank mumbled, suddenly coming to because he had felt the licks on his fingers and looking astonished when he saw his golden retriever. “Oliver?”

Oliver promptly pawed at his hand, “You know that I don’t feel good, don’t you, boy?” Frank spoke softly. “I really wish I could hug you, but my hands are full. If you could just be there, it would help me a lot…”

“Daddy, I have to go potty,” Tanner suddenly spoke. “Can we go?”

Frank suddenly looked flustered, as he wanted to be able to help his son, but he was physically incapable of it and pissed off at that, and Dana could see it in his face, so she quickly scooped Tanner up off the gurney. As Dana took Tanner off to the bathroom, Frank closed his eyes because he was physically and mentally exhausted, he was overwhelmed, and his head was beginning to pound relentlessly. He loved Tanner and Maria dearly, but he could not handle being a patient in the hospital and trying to babysit his very needy children at the same time while worrying about when the other shoe was going to drop. People were being so nice to him and it was weirding him out because he didn’t expect compassion. He knew he definitely didn’t deserve it.

And then nausea hit without any warning, as did subsequent puking, forcing Frank to abandon his thoughts as he struggled to puke on the floor and not on himself. He could hear Oliver whining and barking for help and hoped that he wasn’t puking on the dog too, as he was a big enough mess to clean up. Him and his overstuffed backpack of trauma and grief that hung on him like shackles…

I’m so tired of this crap. All of it. Frank thought darkly, helpless to do anything but continue to puke even though he felt his injured body quickly giving into exhaustion. I’m so tired…so very tired…

As his body suddenly stopped, Frank could hear voices trying to talk to him, but he was so tired of talking to people and trying to make sense of what no longer made sense.

I just want to sleep and not wake up. Frank thought to himself as he slowly succumbed to darkness. Being awake is so…so exhausting and I’m not doing any good for anyone while I’m awake anyway.

Whitaker was exhausted, had endured a long day in the Pitt, and craved rest in his room at Santos’s place. However, he was not yet able to leave, as he was babysitting Maria Langdon, who needed something to eat, and he wanted to make sure she ate before he left because he understood what childhood hunger was like. He also understood what adult hunger was like. He didn’t like being hungry and he didn’t like others to be hungry, not when he could help them get access to food.

And so it was that he was waiting for Peds or someone to bring him food that Maria could eat because Frank had never told him what his kids ate. In all of the time they had spent protecting each other on the street, Frank hadn’t mentioned much about his children’s likes or dislikes. He had only focused on the struggle that it was to survive on the street and then to Whittaker’s horror, he had accidentally discovered the storage locker where Frank Langdon kept his life.

Frank hadn’t even been mad about him knowing, Whitaker remembered: he had simply asked him to keep quiet about it, stating that he had the locker because it wasn’t safe for him to store anything that had any sort of value at home. Whitaker had immediately understood what he meant, as even simple clothes and toiletries could be traded for drugs by people who very much wanted a fix. Frank had even made him a copy of the key to the locker, as there was a cot there that Frank himself had used for a safe place to sleep when the chaos at home at first started, a place he had stayed in because he was too scared and ashamed to go to the shelter with injuries, risk involving the police, and also risk bringing his problems to the hospital’s attention. Frank had urged him to use the cot if he ever needed a safe place and was alone, but Whitaker never had used it, not wanting to intrude on the man’s personal life any more than he already had.

Not wanting his memories to consume him and distract him from his babysitting duties, Whitaker silently rested the fussing Maria on his shoulder in her blanket as he got up and began making his way towards the elevator that would take him to the cafeteria.

“…He can’t even keep half of a small glass of water down,” Whitaker suddenly heard Robby speak anxiously. “He cannot keep water down. His day has been pure hell and I got him to drink half of a very small glass of water after he woke up, but he can’t even keep it down. We cleaned him up and gave him Compazine, but it’s almost like his body is literally giving up on itself…”

Frowning, Whitaker turned towards Robby’s voice and found Robby on the phone at the desk looking pissed off, “…I know you’re busy, but can you please get off your…” Robby spoke in an aggravated voice, his expression one of pure murder. “Fine! We’ll keep him comfortable and see if someone down here can talk to him. We and his PTSD service dog will do our absolute best to get him to tell us why he outright said he wanted to kill himself when two very angry drug addicts, one of which happened to be his wife, held handguns against his skull today in search of drugs! Hello?...Hello?!”

Swearing, Robby slammed the phone down, pissed off that Psych was taking their sweet time to send someone down to the Pitt to talk to Frank. It was bad enough that upstairs was ‘struggling’ to find a bed for him elsewhere in the hospital, but Psych wasn’t even remotely interested in helping the man. Everyone, Robby thought grimly, was probably scared to death to go anywhere near Frank cause they had seen or heard about the chaos between Frank, his wife, and the dealers earlier in the day and they didn’t want to end up in the crossfire of the very much unresolved situation.

Their fear is letting them make bad judgment calls and is getting in the way of Frank getting the help he clearly needs. Robby thought angrily as he closed his eyes to compose himself. My fear and my bad judgment call started this whole mess. I need to fix the mess I made even if everyone in this whole hospital ends up hating me at the end of the day. I need to be better…

“…The cafeteria gave me a sandwich, some carrots, and a milk box for Tanner,” Robby suddenly heard Kiara Alfaro, the hospital social worker say nearby as she handed Dana some paperwork. “They also gave me some ground chicken, pureed sweet potatoes, and milk for Maria. When Doctor Langdon recovers from his injuries, we’ll need to connect him with resources that will help him be able to keep the kids well-fed. They’re okay, but they are under-nourished, and their bloodwork showed that. It was flagged and sent to us. That is why I am talking to you now. You’ll have to address that with Doctor Langdon. DCFS is aware of the situation, but they’re not acting right now cause of the temporary care arrangement Doctor Langdon made with you for his children. What happened today, Dana, has given DCFS and the police enough cause to talk to a judge in the morning about terminating Abby Langdon’s parental rights and give sole custody to Doctor Langdon with you and your family serving as temporary guardians while he is incapacitated. Before the kids can come home back into Doctor Langdon’s care, however, he is going to have to prove he can take care of them and all of their needs or be open to accepting help that will enable to him meet his children’s needs…”

Robby opened his eyes and turned to see Kiara talking to Dana, who was holding Tanner close to her, and Whitaker, who was holding a cranky Maria. Kiara was holding a covered food tray in her hands and looking quite unhappy about having to be there. Dana, however, nodded and Whitaker suddenly looked very sad, but he nodded. Satisfied that she had gotten her very serious message across, Kiara left.

“Um, I can feed them,” Whitaker spoke softly. “You and Santos should go. Did you get his address?”

Pissed off that DCFS was now involved and had made decisions that could very well make Frank’s recovery from everything outright impossible, Robby silently made his way to the private exam room where they had moved Frank to rest after cleaning him up and cleaning his vomiting spell up. To his surprise, Mel was there and she was arranging Oliver on the gurney so that his head was within reach of Frank’s uninjured hand. Once Oliver was arranged, she placed Frank’s hand atop the golden retriever’s head. Even though Frank’s eyes were closed, Robby noticed Frank’s hand gently begin to stroke Oliver’s head and Oliver looked content with that arrangement. Mel immediately looked at Robby as if daring him to tell her off for putting the golden retriever on the gurney, but Robby merely sighed tiredly and nodded that it was okay. Mel silently moved closer to the door to give Frank time with Oliver and Robby followed, seeing that she had something to say.

“You can’t cut someone off from their medicine and expect them to be able to function normally,” Mel spoke in a quiet voice. “Oliver, whether anyone likes it or not, is Langdon’s medicine…”

Robby sighed tiredly, “Well, it’s as good as he’s probably gonna get right now,” he replied grimly. “Psych’s busy and upstairs is taking forever with the admission orders when I don’t think they have to. I think everyone’s spooked by what happened and they don’t wanna touch this mess…”

“Do you think it’s easy for Langdon to be here among people who don’t like him and admit he’s got problems with domestic violence and a disability that makes him need an aid?” Mel asked softly, suddenly looking annoyed. “He already knows he’s not liked. He’s ashamed of what keeping his problems to himself has caused, but he’s too scared to ask for help because he thinks everyone has given up on him. He thinks you have given up on him. That’s why he asked Abby for the gun today and that’s why I think that he couldn’t keep the water down. He’s worn down and feels alone and is surrendering to despair cause he thinks that’s where everyone wants him to walk to. Everyone is proving him right so far by the way they are behaving towards him and it’s really starting to piss me off…”

Before Robby could reply, Mel gave him a look, “The walk of despair is done on one hell of a lonely road, Robby,” she spoke softly. “It’s not a road that anyone should have to walk. People only walk it cause they feel forced into doing so. We all know what’s at the end of that road. Don’t let him get there.”

Mateo suddenly came in with a supply cart, “Vitals check, Doctor Langdon,” he announced softly. “Are you awake? It’s okay if you’re not.”

Frank, of course, didn’t respond and so Mateo took the cart over to him, “Hey there, Doctor Langdon,” Mateo spoke warmly. “Do you mind if I check your temperature?”

“Can you raise…can you raise the bed a bit first, please, Mateo?” Frank suddenly spoke in a groggy, weak, but polite tone. “This laying flat…staring up at nothing…it’s too much. It’s too much for me.”

Mateo complied and then brought out the thermometer, which Frank accepted in his mouth without protest. Frank also briefly looked at Robby and Mel, having heard everything they were saying, but he offered no reaction and instead focused his attention on Mateo while continuing to pet Oliver.

He’s fighting back. Or at least he’s trying to. Robby realized. Frank doesn’t want to feel the way he does, but he also believes that there’s no other choice for him. No help to get out of his pit of despair that we all helped him dig. Robby was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t see Mel suddenly walk over to the bed and speak with Mateo and Frank. When he finally noticed that Mel and Mateo were talking while Frank was back asleep.

Deciding to see why they were talking, Robby wandered over to them, “…I don’t like these vitals and I’d recommend getting some bloodwork done just to make sure nothing’s up that we’re missing,” Mateo spoke worriedly as he added the most recent information to Frank’s chart. “He also needs to drink something and keep it down, as he’s on fluids, but still dehydrated and his body temperature is not where it should be. He should stay in the blankets for now and maybe have another heated IV…”

“Maybe Frank should try a light cranberry juice too,” Robby cut in gently, not at all liking what he was seeing on Frank’s chart. “I need to go upstairs and harass them about why they’re taking so long to admit him anyway, so I’ll go get him a cranberry juice. Get the bloodwork, do what you need to do to help him feel comfy, but make sure Oliver stays on the bed with him. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Exhaling anxiously, Robby silently left the room, hopeful for the first time all day that they might actually able to help Frank out of his horrible mess. It would just have to be done slowly and by exercising a lot of patience. Robby knew he lacked patience, but he didn’t lack compassion, and he was so determined to help Frank after he had contributed to the state Frank was in now.

An uneasiness filled Dana and Santos as they entered Langdon house via the back door carrying empty bags and found that they were in the kitchen. The floor was messy, the sink was full of dirty dishes, memos were stuck all over the fridge and they were held in place by weird looking magnets, stacks of paperwork were scattered all over the kitchen table along with a calculator. There was a highchair and chair holding a booster seat at the table along with a chair that was sitting in front of the paperwork.

Santos couldn’t help herself: she peeked at the paperwork on the table and quickly realized it was a list of customers with the drugs they were owed and what money they owed for their purchases. She also saw a stack of divorce papers among the mess that had a bloody handprint on them as well as Frank’s signature. Swallowing hard, Santos gathered up all of the paperwork, including the bloodstained divorce papers, and stuffed the lot into her bag. She wondered if any of it could help the police or would actually reveal if the story Frank spun to Robby was truth. Even with all that had happened today, Santos still didn’t trust Frank. He had stolen meds, lied about it, and had almost got people killed because armed dealers had come to The Pitt to have a conversation with him.

That situation had ended peacefully, Santos knew, only because she had put herself at risk for Frank and he had never even thanked her for it. Sighing heavily, Santos silently reminded herself that she was here collecting things for Frank’s kids so Dana could take care of them better; she was not here to make Frank feel better. To her, Frank Langdon was problematic, and he needed to get the hell away from The Pitt before someone was killed by the problems that seemed to follow him.

Uneasy by the state of the kitchen, Santos moved into the living room and saw second-hand furniture, a few books on a shelf, and a photo album sitting on a worn coffee table. The photo album was large and leather and had blood stains on it. Even though it looked creepy, Santos added it to the bag and then quickly realized that the living room contained no traces of Frank anywhere. It was almost as if he didn’t live there. She could also hear Dana talking to herself in a nearby bedroom as she packed things for Tanner and Maria. As Santos began to move out of the living room to help Dana, she suddenly heard footsteps coming up rickety stairs and quickly ran to Dana because someone was obviously in the house with them.

Dana was in a room that Tanner and Maria shared and her bags were full, as she had packed the necessary items quickly and would sort through them later to see what else she needed to buy to temporarily house the Langdon children. All she wanted to do was get back to the hospital, see if her husband had collected the kids, and then check in on Frank and hang out with him before her shift ended for the day. She had been on the verge of quitting the day before and was even going to call in sick so she could put her papers in, but then Robby had called her with news about how he had found Frank half dead in the park and she had decided to go work if only to make sure Frank got the care he needed. She was very fond of the young doctor and saw him as a surrogate son. Her fondness and her for concern for him had only grown as the day had gone on and the dark reality of his situation had come to light. She was bothered that so few seemed to openly share her concern.

“Dana, someone else is in the house with us!” Santos whispered anxiously, her eyes wide with fear as she looked at her colleague. “We need to get out of here! Did Langdon ask for anything?”

Shaking her head, Dana moved quickly towards the door, “We need to go,” she replied in an anxious whisper. “We can go out the front and go around the alley where to my car is. Quietly.”

Santos nodded, but as the two crept into the living room to escape via the front door, they suddenly saw a darkened figure bolt into the living room with a gun aimed at them. Swearing, Santos bolted for the door and Dana joined her just as a hissing noise filled the air. Without warning, flames filled the living room and the darkened figure began firing shots at them. Dana quickly dove for the front door with her bags while Santos hid behind a nearby wall with her bag. The shooting continued for a moment longer, so Santos crept into the other bedroom and found an unmade double bed, a dresser, a closet, and so sign that Frank had slept there recently. Smoke suddenly filled the room, so Santos quickly left it behind, also realizing that she couldn’t hear gunshots anymore.

“DANA!” Santos yelled anxiously, coughing through her words as she hurried into the burning living room and saw that the flames were quickly spreading to other parts of the house. “DANA!”

An explosion suddenly went off in the kitchen, the impact of which knocked Santos to the carpet with her bag, “Santos!” Dana’s voice filled the air through coughs. “Santos, where are you?!”

Cursing, Santos began to crawl across the carpet towards Dana and ignored the pain she felt after being knocked to the carpet by the explosion. She kept going towards Dana’s voice even though she could hear more explosions, glass shattering, and loud pops all around her. She had to get out.

After what seemed like an eternity, Santos found Dana kneeling by the front door with her bags hanging on her forearms, trying to pop the front screen door open with her sleeve over her hand so she wouldn’t get burned. The front deadbolt door was already opened and Dana’s entire body and face was covered in ash, smoke, and was reddening and Dana was coughing, but she was determined to get them out. Santos watched for only a few seconds before she got up, swayed slightly, and then began to kick at the door in order to force it open so they wouldn’t die in the fire.

As Santos was beginning to get tired of kicking, the front screen door suddenly popped open, sending clouds of smoke out into the neighborhood. Continuing to cough, Dana crawled outside and threw the bags from her arms into the gated front yard before she went back for Santos, who was struggling with dizziness, so much so that she had fallen over right after kicking the door open.

Dana quickly grabbed Santos and helped her up, coughing as she helped Santos outside and down the steps into the front yard. Santos swore before dropping her bag in the grass and stumbling over to the fence, grabbing it with her hands in her sleeves so she could lean against it. As Santos leaned against the fence for support and to throw up, Dana got her cell-phone out and dialed 9-1-1 while she got away from the flaming house and as close to Santos as she could with the bags she had managed to pack. Another explosion suddenly rocked the house, increasing the fire significantly, and Dana quickly grabbed the bags from the ground, looped them around her arms, and then grabbed Santos by the arm before she opened the gate.

As Dana dragged Santos out of the yard, she heard Dispatch answer the phone and ask what the emergency was.

Chapter Text

“Doctor Langdon?”

Frank sighed tiredly, realizing that he must have fallen asleep while reading the through the folder he had seen on the portable table, a folder that had his name on it. The folder was on his chest and the papers and brochures had spilled everywhere, but he knew he wasn’t in any shape to pick them up.

As if someone had read his mind, however, a pair of hands suddenly handed him the stack of papers and the brochures. He took them with his uninjured hand and frowned when he saw hospital social worker Kiara Alfaro standing beside his bed. I’m in trouble. Frank thought grimly.

Kiara, however, sat in the chair beside the bed with a thoughtful expression on her face, “I, um, heard about what happened down here today,” she spoke softly. “Are you okay?”

Frank scoffed, “I had two guns pressed against my skull while my wife and her idiot dealers almost hurt colleagues of mine just to get drugs,” he replied groggily. “I know I made mistakes…lots of…”

“I asked how you were feeling,” Kiara stated softly. “I’m aware of all the stuff you did, as the board told me. Psych also told me that Doctor Robinavitch has been screaming at them to send someone to talk to you because you expressed suicidal desires during the incident in the…”

Suddenly feeling annoyed that Robby had done that without running it by him first and giving him the chance to say he didn’t want to address that, Frank sighed and promptly looked away from her, trying to think of how he could get out of answering truthfully because he wasn’t ready to admit he was in a dark place mentally, as he feared DCFS would use that information to try and keep his kids from him permanently or the hospital might use it as a reason to go back on their decision. Kiara immediately noticed the hesitation and thinking and sighed because she could tell he was contemplating lying out of fear about the consequences that might accompany an honest answer.

Before Kiara could speak again, however, Robby came in carrying a tall plastic cup of light cranberry juice with a straw in it one hand, a can of Sprite in the other, and a sandwich in his pocket, and froze when he saw the folder and mess of papers in Frank’s hands, knowing full well that the man had seen them and was probably contemplating things now. What was more concerning to him, though, was that Kiara was sitting beside Frank’s bed, but Frank was looking in the opposite direction from where she was sitting, and his facial expression gave away that he was deep in thought about something.

Oliver suddenly lifted his head and gave Frank’s hand, which was half-balled into a fist, a gentle nudge. Frank’s hand slowly relaxed and he placed it back on Oliver’s head, but he remained very quiet and continued to look away from Kiara.

Robby quickly decided he had better intervene before something happened, as Oliver had alerted because he could sense not all was well in Frank’s mind and was trying to get the man to relax so his distress didn’t start impacting his body, “Dinner time,” Robby announced softly. “For both of us.”

“I’ll check back later,” Kiara replied simply, exhaling as she got up. “By the way, Dana’s husband came and got the kids. They’re sleepy, but fine. Doctor Langdon, I’ll get you some information about resources…”

Again, Frank said nothing and so Kiara left in silence, fully prepared to make a recommendation to Psych that Dr. Langdon undergo trauma counseling. Robby, meanwhile, settled himself in the empty chair and set the cranberry juice on the portable table before popping his can of Sprite open and taking a swig, “How was thinking about how to lie to Kiara?” Robby asked bluntly.

Frank turned his head and glared at Robby, but didn’t say anything, “I could tell you were trying to think of a way to lie to her about whatever she asked you before I showed up,” Robby observed softly, taking another swig of Sprite. “What did…?”

“It was about what happened earlier,” Frank replied simply. “I’m not ready to discuss it yet.”

Robby raised an eyebrow, “Fair enough,” he acquiesced, deciding to respect Frank’s boundary for the moment. “You’re still dehydrated even though you’re on IV fluids, so I brought you cranberry juice for supper. You don’t have to drink it all right now, but I’d like you to try a little. Maybe if you can keep it down all night, we can try a little bit of soft food tomorrow…”

Frank shrugged, so Robby set his Sprite on the table, picked up the cup of juice and got the straw in Frank’s mouth. Frank slowly drank for several seconds before spitting the straw out. Robby took the cup back, set it back on the tray, and made a note on the chart after checking his watch.

“In case you’re wondering, it’s about 8:00,” Robby commented, noticing that Frank was eyeing his watch. “It doesn’t matter, though. I already told Gloria hours ago that I was gonna stick around and help you tonight. I have no idea when they’ll take you upstairs, so it’s better that I’m here with you so you’re safe in The Pitt during the nightshift…”

I’m not safe. Frank thought grimly as he studied Robby intently while fighting to stay awake. Not from myself. And definitely not from those who tried to kill me today…

Robby gently laid a hand on Frank’s uninjured shoulder, “Go to sleep,” he encouraged softly. “You look like you could use it. It has really not been a pleasant day for you, and you look tired…”

Frank scoffed, but closed his eyes and was soon in a deep, silent sleep. Robby adjusted Frank’s blanket and then leaned back in his chair. As Robby was about to take another swig of Sprite, he suddenly heard noise outside and so he instinctively looked towards it. His jaw dropped in horror when he saw several uniformed police and fire personnel wander into The Pitt accompanied by paramedics who had a sooty Dana and a sooty, unwell-looking Santos on gurneys.

Taking great care not to wake Frank up, Robby quietly got up and hurried out just in time to hear Santos swear, “…We were getting stuff for Doctor Langdon’s kids when I suddenly heard someone come up from the basement,” Santos was explaining in a shaky voice to a nearby officer. “As Dana and I were getting out, cause I told her we weren’t alone and we needed to get the hell out of there, a guy came out of the kitchen and started shooting at us!”

Robby’s eyes widened in shock as Santos suddenly had a coughing fit, but pushed an offered mask away, “We hid til he stopped, but then a fire started and I got knocked over by an explosion,” Santos explained shakily before continuing to cough again.

Whitaker suddenly appeared out of nowhere, having seen Santos come in on a gurney and wanting to help, but Robby immediately grabbed his arm, “Go sit with Frank,’ Robby spoke sternly, giving Whitaker a look. “He’s in Room 3 and asleep. Keep him company and keep him distracted if he wakes up and finds me gone. Make him drink some more juice if he wakes because he needs to stay hydrated. I need to find out what the hell happened here. Santos, did you say there was a fire?”

Nodding, Whitaker quickly moved out of sight and Robby got no response from Santos, so he looked and saw that Santos was now flat on a gurney with an oxygen mask on her face while Mohan, Princess, and Kim assessed her. Dana, meanwhile, was nearby and coughing and crying. Robby moved over to her and saw Mel there with Mateo. Dana looked distraught, but was only covered in sweat and smoke and wasn’t resisting wearing an oxygen mask.

“Doctor Robinavich, can I speak with you at the desk, please?” a voice suddenly called out.

Cursing quietly, Robby went to the desk and found more uniformed officers lingering there going through several smoke-covered bags that were covering the desk, “Someone called me?” Robby asked, frowning when one of the officers removed some bloodstained papers from one of the bags.

Silence was the only reply Robby received, so he watched as more papers were removed from the bag, “Bloodstained divorce papers with Frank Langdon’s signature on them and a list written by Abby Langdon containing customers, drug types, and dollar amounts,” an officer that Robby knew to be Officer Hayes suddenly spoke, eyeing the papers with disdain. “Doctor Robinavitch, we’re gonna need to speak to Doctor Langdon…”

“Not tonight, you’re not,” Robby interrupted firmly. “Can it wait until morning?”

Officer Hayes scowled at Robby, “No, not unless you and Doctor Langdon want to be arrested for obstructing an investigation,” he replied firmly. “Given that Doctor Langdon’s been officially warned by police for vagrancy in the past, do you really want to add to why we’re not too fond of him down at the police department? He’s never been arrested or charged with anything, but police have been called to kick him out of fast-food joints, bus stations, and the library for being there past closing hours. He tried to argue that he was there keeping warm and trying to get some rest in a warm place, but we told him there are shelters and cheap motels for vagrants to sleep in and told him to comply or else. Really, Doctor Robinavich, we don’t need your permission to talk to Doctor Langdon. We will find him and talk to him tonight even if you don’t like it….”

Robby’s eyes widened and he immediately thought of swearing, but Officer Hayes didn’t look like he had too much patience left with Frank or even the night in general, and so he calmed himself. He sighed and nodded grimly, not at all happy that he had to wake Frank back up and that Frank had to deal with all this crap immediately because the cops wouldn’t cut him a break, “Follow me,” Robby spoke in a pissed off tone.

“Whitaker, please step out for a moment.”

The sight of two uniformed police officers standing in the exam room and flanking Robby as if the man were some sort of criminal being prepared for jail scared the hell out of Whitaker, but he said nothing as he stood up, “What’s going on?” Whitaker asked nervously. “Why…?”

“Dennis, go,” Robby replied in a sterner voice. “We need to talk to Doctor Langdon privately.”

Whitaker moved towards the door, but suddenly looked nervous, “Is this about the library thing last fall?” he asked nervously. “Because he and I…we were there together til after closing and Langdon was helping me study while we were trying not to fall asleep. It was really hard, though, because the library was warm and comfortable. There…there was an early snowfall at the beginning of October and we were both out and about…if you get my drift. We ran into each other, and we both looked like absolute crap from sleeping outside. Anyway, we hid out in the kids’ section where all the pillows were. I was really tired from a day of school stuff, so I rested on a pillow and under Langdon’s jacket, which he insisted I use to keep warm while we were there, while he sat nearby quizzing me from one of my books to keep me awake. When the library called the cops to get us out, Langdon told me to leave quickly and quietly so I wouldn’t get into trouble cause that would screw with my med-school. I did…but I shouldn’t have. He made me take his jacket…”

“No, this is not about that,” Robby replied darkly, wondering just how more of Frank and Whitaker’s living on the street he would have to hear about that day because that whole situation sounded absolutely horrific to him. “Step outside and we’ll talk later. You can go help Dana and Santos or you can go find something else to do. Just get out of here.”

Nodding, Whitaker left and Officer Hayes scowled, “I knew he had someone with him at the library that day because there were two spaces set up in the kids area!” the officer hissed irritably. “By the time we got there, though, Doctor Langdon was the only one there and he wouldn’t say if he had been alone or not! That idiot almost got arrested that night cause he wouldn’t talk to us!”

“Look, that was last fall and that’s not really why you’re here, is it?” Robby spoke icily.

Officer Hayes scowled at Robby before setting a recording device on the table and pressing RECORD, “Wake Doctor Langdon up now and stop pissing me off or else I’m hauling you in,” he spoke in a dark tone of warning. “You’re on thin ice, Robinavitch.”

Scoffing, Robby walked over to the bed where Frank lay asleep and gently tapped his shoulder, “What?!” Frank mumbled in a sleepy, pissed off tone while not opening his eyes. “Is it time for another vitals check? My God, just let me sleep. I’m so tired and I’m in pain that isn’t going away. At least the juice is staying down…”

“Frank, the police are here, and they need to talk to you,” Robby replied quietly. “If you’re in pain, I can get you something…”

Frank’s eyes suddenly flew open and he glared daggers at Robby, “You called the police?!” he hissed in an angry voice, ignoring the fact that Oliver was now awake and sitting up because he could sense his master’s anxiety. “What, did Gloria tell you to do that, or did you decide to do that on your own cause you think I deserve to be punished for letting Abby beat me for three years and use and threaten my children’s safety as leverage….?!”

Quickly tiring of Langdon’s hostile attitude, Officer Hayes slammed the papers down on the portable table with a gloved hand, nearly knocking over the glass of cranberry juice in the process, and Frank stilled, staring at them with an expression of pure confusion on his face.

“Divorce papers bearing a bloody handprint and your signature,” Officer Hayes spoke sternly. “And a list written by Abby Langdon containing customers, drug types, and dollar amounts. They were in a bag collected by Dana Evans and Trinity Santos. Rescue workers found them outside of your burning residence with bags full of your personal property…”

Frank’s eyes went wide, “My house is on fire?!” he replied in a shaky voice as Oliver suddenly whined, sensing his master’s anxiety rising.

“Your house is a total loss,” Officer Hayes replied in a blunt tone, wondering why Langdon was stalling the inevitable. “Firefighters are still on scene making sure the fire doesn’t spread to other residences in the area. Now, the bloodstained papers…can we please talk about those?”

Swallowing hard, Frank exhaled shakily, his eyes wide and his expression pained as he processed the news that his children were now homeless, and that Dana and Santos had come upon the divorce papers he had tried to give to Abby after he had been fired and before he had fled back to the hospital to help with the PittFest shooting with a black eye hidden under concealer. Oliver was suddenly barking and poking him with his paw, but Frank ignored it as he began to remember…

“Screw you, Frank!” Abby had yelled at him as she slammed the divorce papers down on the table, the same table where she had been making her customer list. “I’m not signing those, and you are not leaving! You’re too valuable to the business! You need to go get the crap you left at the hospital!”

Everything had happened so fast after that, but Frank could still remember Abby coming at him with a knife and slicing his palm when he had tried to offer her the papers and a pen. She had then begun cursing at him and chucking glasses and teacups at him that she snatched from the cupboard with pure venom, hitting him in the face with at least one of each.

After she had finished chucking cups, she had made him fetch cleaning tools from the broom closet and clean the mess up on his hands and knees with a mini broom and a dustpan. Once all the glass was in the garbage, Abby had forced him to his feet by his hair and had begun to aggressively kiss him, pinning him against the fridge as she did so. Frank knew that she had probably been sampling product, which she often did to make sure her dealers were not selling bunk and screwing the business up, because her aggression levels and her strength were both off the charts that day. She had initiated sex quite quickly after that right then and there, saying that the kids were napping in their rooms, and they had some time before the dealers would be around for evening pickup.

Frank had been overpowered quite quickly, had ended up on the floor on his back, and had endured the most horrifyingly painful sexual experience of his life. He had chosen to simply take it cause the kids were in their room and he didn’t want to attract more trouble for them or for himself. When it was finally over, Abby had made him shower off while she watched and then she had made him dress in fresh scrubs before forcing him to put concealer over his eye injury and had let him clean his palm with an alcohol rub before making him sit in the living room quietly while she double checked her list.

During the time he had been in the living room, he had looked through the family photo album and wondered how things had gotten so bad. He had even tried to call Robby on his cell, desperately needing someone to talk to, but Robby hadn’t answered his calls. It was then that Abby had finished, ordered him to get the crap from his locker, and maybe she would actually let him sleep in the house that night. Frank had been sweating to death after leaving the house because he had fully intended on telling Robby why he had done what he had done, but then he had been paged about the PittFest shooting and his last chance to talk quietly with Robby had been taken. Their final conversation that day had turned ugly and so Frank had simply given up trying to ask for help…

“…If you don’t get the hell out of this room right now, I’ll have you escorted off hospital property for disrupting patients!” Frank suddenly heard Robby yell in an angry tone. “He’s already had one seizure today and now he’s probably just had another one because you idiots couldn’t wait to talk to him! You said it had to be…!”

Oliver’s barking suddenly drowned out the conversation, but Frank suddenly felt too weak to move or speak and like he had just woken up from a very long nap. He could barely keep his eyes open, and he felt like someone was holding him underwater. Maybe just letting go and dying from whatever this is would be better for me. Frank thought as he closed his eyes and began to surrender to the darkness because it seemed so welcoming compared to the literal feeling of drowning that he was currently struggling with. Am I dying? Frank thought hopefully. I hope to God I am. That’s all I want to do right now, especially because there’s gonna be hell to pay when I actually have to talk about this. Why haven’t I died yet? What possible reason could my body have for not letting go?

“…Doctor Langdon?” Frank suddenly heard Mel speak softly in his ear. “I can see you trying to wake up. Can you speak?”

Tears suddenly filled Frank’s eyes and he started crying silently, overwhelmed by the memories. He could feel a strange hand touching his, but he jerked it away, “Oh my God, Abby, enough!” he yelled in a shaky, slightly aggravated voice. “You already raped me on the kitchen floor yesterday and I let you do it so the kids would be safe! I don’t have time for more right now! Just leave me alone!

Mel’s eyes widened and she immediately took a step back, shocked by his outburst. She didn’t know what to do, so she looked at Robby, who looked equally shocked, for direction, “God, I sat on that ugly living room couch of ours after you made me shower and change and I tried to call Robby to talk to him just to keep myself sane while you were hiding in the kitchen doing your paperwork for your dealers, but he didn’t pick up the phone!” Frank sobbed loudly, his eyes staying firmly closed as he did. “He didn’t pick up the freaking phone and by the time you sent me out the door to find the crap in my locker for you, I very much wanted to slash my throat with a scalpel just so I wouldn’t have to deal with you or your crap anymore! I was gonna tell him all about you yesterday, but then the crap with PittFest happened and our talk afterwards went to hell! He thinks I’m a drug addict who isn’t worth saving! He walked away and then I found out you sent your dealers after me! I wish they had killed me in that park so I wouldn’t have to deal with you ever again! I hate life now because you ruined it! You and your stupid business and your constant need for drugs wrecked my life! I hate being alive now because all I’m able to do now is your dirty work to avoid your abuse! I hate you so much, Abby, and I don’t want to spend another moment alive if it means having to do any more crap for you! You hurt me, you wrecked my career, and you…you…”

Frank suddenly began to cough violently as if he were starving for air and his nose also began to bleed. Mel quickly got a cold cloth from the supply cabinet, removed the nasal tube from Frank’s nose and checked it, “It was just a stress bleed,” she spoke anxiously, gently cleaning the blood up. “Do you want a mask instead of the tube?”

Robby, however, remained silent because his head was spinning. I should have answered the phone. He thought, now deeply distressed that he had ignored Frank’s multiple cries for help because he had been so aggravated over things he had believed to be true. He should have made Frank do a urine and blood test as soon as the drugs had been found in his locker, but he hadn’t done that. He had just thrown Frank and his stuff out into the street and engaged in a shouting match with him later that night, “Doctor Robby?” he suddenly heard Mel ask. “Oxygen mask?”

“Yeah,” Robby replied shakily, fighting the urge to cry or even flee to the roof for a moment alone simply because he needed to stabilize Frank and then figure out what to do about his horrific outburst, thanking God that only he and Mel had heard it because if any others had…

Robby’s eye suddenly caught the recorder on the table and saw the RECORD button was pressed down. Officer Hayes must have left it there to try and trick Frank into giving a statement without realizing he was being recorded so the police could use his words of vulnerability to twist his situation into something it's not. Robby realized grimly. If I let the recording get to the police, Frank is finished. The cops will charge him or he’ll get shipped to a mental hospital or prison, and he won’t be among those who will understand his need for compassionate help or his service dog. I have to handle this carefully and with some help.

After making sure that Mel wasn’t looking, Robby silently stopped the recording and put the device in the pocket of his scrub pants. He then silently left the room, went to the drug and supply closets, grabbed a sedative and the supplies required for intubation.

Saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t get caught doing what he was doing, Robby returned to the exam room and peeked at Frank’s vital signs, pissed that they weren’t great, “You know what?” he spoke in a concerned voice. “I think Frank needs a little time with a tube down his throat, sedation, and time in the ICU so he can recover without cops and everyone else bothering him. I’m not happy with his vitals and the oxygen’s not helping. If he can at least get through the night up there…”

Mel gave Robby a strange look, “You don’t want Officer Hayes harassing Langdon again, do you?” she realized grimly. “He, Officer Hayes, said some things to you about Langdon that pissed you off. What…what were they?”

Instead of responding to Mel’s inquiry, Robby silently prepped the sedative and Mel lowered the gurney, “Hey, Frank, you’re gonna go to sleep for a little while,” Robby spoke calmly as he administered the sedative to him. “Your body’s doing some things that we don’t particularly like, so you’re gonna have a nice long sleep, get a tube down your throat, and take a nice little trip to the ICU. I’m dragging you out of The Pitt so you can get some rest without Hayes putting the screws to you…”

Once Frank was out, Robby removed the mask from his face and gently intubated him before attaching a bag to the top. Just as he was finishing, Gloria, who had just gotten an earful from Officer Hayes about Robby’s behavior and Langdon’s ‘faking,’ suddenly came into the room, “Doctor…” she paused, watching Robby work. “Officer Hayes accused you of…”

“Officer Hayes tried to aggressively interrogate Doctor Langdon about his wife without inviting him to speak with the hospital’s Legal Aid or a union rep,” Robby spoke firmly, hoping to God that Gloria bought the story. “He also triggered a seizure in Doctor Langdon that was so bad that I had to sedate and intubate Doctor Langdon because his breathing was compromised. If you could help me swing an ICU room even if it’s just for the night, Gloria, I will take personal responsibility for Langdon since I’m going off shift soon. I’ll even hold his hand. It’ll be good practice for when we’re working together again…”

Gloria didn’t look like she believed what Robby was saying, but at the same time, she admired his dedication to Dr. Langdon’s wellness, as such an attitude would make things easier in the future.

“I’ll help you take him up and get him settled and then I’ll deal with the police myself,” Gloria acquiesced. “I have to be down here anyway to handle the situation involving Nurse Evans and Doctor Santos. I know you have tomorrow off, so you can have two days and I expect you to stay with him or get help if you need a break…”

Suddenly, Officer Hayes came storming into the room, eyed the scene before him, and scowled, “Where’s my recorder?” he asked sternly, noticing that it was no longer on the table. “I left it in here by accident…”

“Oh, you mean the one you left running while you were away so you could trick Frank into giving a statement without him knowing he was being recorded?!” Robby growled in a cold tone. “You wanna hear all about how he was raped on his kitchen floor by his own wife before he came to help with PittFest and then try to twist it into something its not?! I don’t know what the drug list is about, but the divorce papers are a clear message that he was trying to get out! He does not need the screws put to him for that! I don’t even know why Dana and Santos brought that paperwork here! They were supposed to be getting things for Frank’s children to have in their temporary foster home!”

Officer Hayes, however, scowled and held his gloved hand out for the recording device, “Hand it over now, Doctor Robinavich,” he replied sternly, snapping his fingers commandingly. “I know you’ve got it because I’ve been watching the room since I left and I saw you put it in your pocket. If you just hand it over, I won’t charge you with obstruction. I get why you had to sedate and intubate Doctor Langdon, but you do not have the right to stop us from conducting our investigation of Frank and Abby Langdon and you do not have the right to withhold evidence. The recorder…now.”

Robby glared at Officer Hayes, “Doctor Robinavitch, give Officer Hayes his recorder!” Gloria ordered, now pissed off that Robby was risking getting arrested by obstructing an investigation.

Scowling, Robby pulled the device out of his pocket and handed it to Officer Hayes, who pocketed it while glaring daggers at Robby, “He goes nowhere!” Officer Hayes declared, pointing at the sedated and intubated Frank before he snatched the papers off the table. “Treat him however you need to, but you’re gonna do it right down here where we can watch so we don’t think you’re going to be hiding anything from us again or encouraging him to! And I want to talk to him when he’s awake again and medically stable! This isn’t going away! Unless you want me to handcuff him to the bed to ensure he doesn’t try anything, you will find me immediately when he is able to talk again! Do you understand?!”

Robby nodded, his scowl deepening as Officer Hayes left the room, “Mel, get a vent, please,” Robby spoke in a grim voice, noting that Gloria was now glaring at him and there was going to be hell to pay.

Mel quickly left and Gloria let out a motherly sigh as Robby took over squeezing the bag on the tube, “I get you are trying to help Doctor Langdon, Robby, I do, but obstructing a police investigation and trying to get Doctor Langdon to do the same is not the way to go about it,” she spoke sternly. “That little stunt you just tried to pull…hiding the recorder…it could have gotten you arrested. Please don’t do that again and don’t try to relocate Doctor Langdon again because that will most definitely get you arrested. How long do you think Doctor Langdon will be out cold for?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Robby admitted grimly. “Frank sort of zoned out during the questioning and I’m not sure if it was a seizure or just PTSD. His service dog was acting up a bit, so…”

Gloria eyed Frank, noticing that the man was holding the papers she had given Robby and Robby also noticed her looking, “I think he’s aware of the hospital’s decision regarding him, but he hasn’t said how he feels about it,” Robby stated softly. “He’s just been dealing with so much…the beating, the guns to his head, having to put his kids in temporary foster care, and now he’s lost his house in a fire and the police want to harass him for information about Abby cause he’s been warned by them before about vagrancy by them before, apparently. He’s been battling recurring homelessness for three years due to the thing with Abby and I had no idea. I should have forced him to talk to someone after Oliver died, and then maybe all of this could have been avoided…”

“And I suppose there’s a grimmer story behind that as well, one that doesn’t involve a natural death,” Gloria realized softly, suddenly taken aback by the mention of recurring homelessness and Oliver Langdon’s death. “I…I’m not sure what to make of this, but I think Doctor Langdon needs time before returning to work. Do your best to give it to him. You can start right now, actually. You’re done seeing patients for tonight except for Doctor Langdon and I also want you personally in charge of his care for however long he’s here. I’ll have to speak to the board about this and you might get a few lost vacation days for your confrontation with the police, as attempting to obstruct their investigation was not a good choice you made, but we’re going to do what we can to provide help in this situation. I also want to find out why Dana and Doctor Santos decided to bring those papers in…”

Robby scoffed, “So do I,” he admitted shakily. “Doctor Santos was actually the one who first came to me about Frank stealing the meds, but I just took her at her word and I didn’t test Frank when I found the meds in his locker to see if they were actually in his system. I broke protocol cause I was so pissed off at him and it’s led to…this. Maybe if I had calmed down and drug tested him…”

“We might still be seeing him as a patient here because domestic violence can result in at least one visit to the hospital by those enduring it,” Gloria explained grimly as Mel returned with Mateo and a ventilator. “Just stay here with Doctor Langdon and stay out of trouble. You’ll probably have to talk with the board yourself tomorrow cause I’m gonna convene an emergency meeting tonight…”

Robby nodded and Gloria left the room. As soon as Robby was sure Gloria was out of sight, he went over to a wall out of sight of the door and leaned into it while he did deep breathing exercises to calm himself while thinking about how pissed he was over Frank’s whole situation.

“Doctor Robby, he’s connected to the vent,” Mel’s voice suddenly spoke. “Should I stay?”

Instead of responding, Robby silently retook his seat at Frank’s bedside with a murderous, but tired expression on his face and stared at Frank’s unconscious form for a few minutes before he took a swig of Sprite in an attempt to compose himself.  Robby was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear Mel or Mateo leave the room. Exhaling anxiously, Robby set the Sprite aside and attempted to calm himself down because he could already see that Oliver was staring at him.

“I’m fine, Oliver,” Robby spoke calmly, taking another breath. “See? I’m fine. Lie down.”

Oliver, however, remained sitting there with his head up, silently studying Robby intently as if he didn’t believe Robby’s words. Not wanting to distract the dog in case Frank woke in the next few hours and needed Oliver’s assistance, Robby closed his eyes and continued taking deep breaths.

Chapter Text

Dana sighed heavily as she lay atop a gurney in The Pitt with a pillow behind her back, holding an oxygen mask on her face. She wondered when she would get to go home and make sure her husband wasn’t overwhelmed by Tanner and Maria, who had hopefully been put to bed.

The police had been by, had taken a brief statement about the fire along with her clothes, and now she only had a gown and blanket covering her body while she waited out an IV of fluids that she had been given. She was fine, but shaken, and she wanted to know where Santos was and if she was okay.

Frank’s house was a mess, and his kids looked like they only had the barest of essentials, but I don’t think that was his fault. Dana thought grimly as she lay there, closing her eyes as she reflected on what she had seen at the Langdon house. I didn’t notice anything that indicated he actually spent a lot of time living there, but then again, I was only in the kids’ rooms while Santos was supposed to get them their personal things from the kitchen…Maria’s food and bottles and a sippy cup for Tanner…

“Dana Evans?”

Dana opened her eyes and frowned when she saw Gloria and a pissed off looking Officer Hayes standing beside her gurney, “Nurse Evans, my name is Officer Hayes,” Officer Hayes explained in a formal voice. “I need to get your statement about what happened in the Langdon house prior to the fire. My partner, Officer Garner, will be recording our conversation. We’ve been searching the bags found with you and Doctor Santos and we found bloodstained divorce papers with Frank Langdon’s name on them as well as a list written by Abby Langdon…”

“I didn’t find any papers,” Dana interrupted anxiously, frowning at Gloria and Officer Hayes as she removed the oxygen mask from her face. “I was in Tanner and Maria’s bedroom getting clothes and other things for Frank’s kids cause my husband and I are fostering them. Santos may have come across them and been curious. I don’t know. Where’s Robby? I need to get him to…”

Gloria sighed, “Doctor Robinavitch is currently with Doctor Langdon, as Doctor Langdon’s condition has worsened considerably and he requires constant monitoring as a result,” she replied softly, not wanting to talk about Robby's little fight with the police and the police's order that Langdon ride out his recovery in The Pitt. “It’s been too difficult to find Doctor Langdon a room upstairs, so he’ll be staying down here...”

“Honestly, I don’t know anything about any papers,” Dana responded anxiously. “I just want to go home and help my husband take care of Frank’s kids. I left my car at his house, but if I can get a cab…”

Gloria gave Dana a look, “When you’re medically cleared, you can go,” she replied firmly. “And an officer will escort you home. Your car’s getting towed and gonna be searched…”

“Just how much trouble is Frank in?” Dana asked quietly. “So much has already happened to him…”

Officer Hayes sighed, thinking of the recording he had taken a moment to listen to in private with colleagues after his fight with Robinavitch. Despite the fight with Dr. Robinavitch pissing him off, Officer Hayes had listened to the recording with an open mind and discovered that it had heavily featured Frank Langdon sobbing about being subjected to rape and violence and having suicidal ideations as a result of being hurt and forced to steal the drugs under threat of more hurt and seeing his children endangered. That alone had made it pretty clear that his participation in the drug stealing had been done under duress. In the hours since listening to the recording, Hayes had quietly put in a call to a Victims Services Advocate for Dr. Langdon and had also reported the situation to the local Community Domestic Violence Response program so that Dr. Langdon could be offered resources that were usually offered to battered spouses. After those calls had been made, Officer Hayes went about collecting statements about the situation between the Langdons and the fire to help build a case against Abby Langdon, as she was currently a suspect in relation to the fire and the shooting at the Langdon household and was also now wanted for battery and rape.

Officer Hayes knew he would eventually need a statement from Frank Langdon himself to tie everything together, but that would have to wait a while. Dr. Robinavitch, Officer Hayes knew, was sure as hell not gonna let him anywhere near the man at the moment and Frank Langdon wasn’t in a good state anyway for such a conversation even if he wasn’t sedated with a tube down his throat. The conversation could wait until Victims Services arrived. Maybe Frank Langdon would be awake by then and actually want to talk rather than zone out and pretend nothing was happening. Officer Hayes had responded to a number of domestic violence situations during his years on the force and the worst-case scenario was when victims would not only keep silent, but zone out during questioning and act as if everything was normal even if they were battered beyond recognition because that meant they had become so resigned to their situation that they had accepted it as routine, didn’t know anything else, and were not going to speak bad about their abuser at all. Frank Langdon had become one of those worst-case scenarios, Officer Hayes knew, and it was truly sad.

“…Hey there, Dana,” the voice of Dr. Jack Abbot suddenly spoke in a gentle tone. “Gloria called me a couple hours ago and asked me to come in a little early tonight cause Robby got grounded…”

Swallowing hard, Dana immediately turned towards the voice and gently embraced Dr. Abbot, who looked briefly surprised before he gently returned the embrace. She quickly found herself sniffling and outright crying into his shoulder, “Hey, hey, hey,” Dr. Abbot’s voice spoke softly. “It’s all right.”

While Dr. Abbot saw to Dana, Gloria found herself leading Officers Hayes and Garner through the emergency room to where the place where Santos was being treated, still needing answers.

Trinity Santos was exhausted and in pain, but she knew Whitaker was in the room and watching her closely, so she pretended she was fine. Despite the fact that she was resting on a hospital bed with nothing covering her but a gown and blanket with heavy bruising, first degree burns, and a concussion, Santos worked very hard to keep herself looking fine so Whitaker wouldn’t worry.

In actuality, however, she was pissed off. She had found the drug list next to bloodstained divorce papers on Langdon’s kitchen table and knew that Langdon was most likely aware of it. He had also stolen drugs from the hospital and had been fired. Yet, Robby had still let him hang around treating people during the PittFest incident. Langdon, Santos thought, didn’t deserve whatever grace Robby, Gloria, and the hospital board were going to end up giving him. Not when he had been involved in…

“Trinity Santos?”

Santos sighed as Gloria and two uniformed officers suddenly came into the room. Whitaker, she noticed, made himself as small as possible while he sat in the corner and seemed to be unusually afraid of the police despite not being the type who should be afraid of the police. The one who should be afraid of the police is Langdon. Santos thought darkly. I overheard police talking on the phone about how Langdon had claimed he had been assaulted and raped by his wife in the time he had been away from the hospital prior to the PittFest incident and how the abuse had been going on for three years. That…that is a weird, but convenient story for him to come up with when facing legal issues with the police. I wonder if what I found will show what Langdon really is? A fraud, a thief, and a liar. That bastard belongs in jail…

“Doctor Santos, my name is Officer Hayes and this is my partner, Officer Garner,” Santos suddenly heard one of the cops say softly. “We’d like to talk to you…”

Santos scoffed, “I was in the kitchen looking for stuff for Langdon’s kids and I saw the bloodstained divorce papers and the list on the table,” she spoke shakily. “The list was a list of customers with the drugs they were owed and what money they owed for their purchases. Abby’s name was on it, but there is no way in hell Langdon doesn’t know about it. And those divorce papers? He probably signed them and changed his mind after he realized he has nowhere else to go and nobody else in his life who wants him around. He’s sure not wanted at the hospital after what he did. He stole drugs, for God’s sake and then spun a story to Doctor Robby about how he was raped, beaten, and in an abusive relationship for three years. There’s literally no proof any of that is true except some shouting I heard coming from his room. He’s probably one of the best pretenders I’ve ever met, so he probably...”

“There is proof,” Whitaker’s voice suddenly cut through the room. “I just need Frank’s keys and I can probably be back in an hour. It's a bit of a ways away from here on foot, but I can run..."

Santos frowned at Whitaker, as did Gloria and Officers Hayes and Garner, “The Langdon house burned down in a fire,” Officer Hayes replied in a confused voice. “How will Doctor Langdon’s keys…?”

“Doctor Langdon has a storage locker downtown where he keeps his personal things that he wants to keep from being stolen and sold by his wife and her 'friends' and there’s also a cot there,” Whitaker explained in a nervous voice. “He showed the locker to me back when I first ran into him on the street. I convinced him to let me take photos of his injuries that day and he’d let me take photos of his injuries every time we ran into each other, but he’d keep them at the storage locker because he was too terrified to go to the police with them. They’re in a box under the cot along with little recordings he let me make of what happened to him each time. I knew what was going on wasn’t okay and I was trying to talk him into sharing the box with the police, but…”

Officer Garner sighed, “We have Doctor Langdon’s keys along with the rest of the stuff from the fire, but we can get you the keys and you can take us to the locker,” he replied firmly. “You’re not going over there by yourself…”

Whitaker suddenly looked nervous, “I, um, just need to talk to Doctor Langdon about it,” he spoke shakily, looking like he was going to be sick. “I know he’s sedated, but still…I should tell him what I'm doing.”

“Go ahead,” Gloria spoke up, making a mental note to recommend to Whitaker that he seek counseling through the hospital because it was incredibly obvious that the young med student was heavily traumatized by what was happening and by his own struggles with homelessness.

Santos suddenly sighed, now feeling a little uneasy because of Whitaker’s claims of evidence, and the attention was right back on her, “Do you need to hear the rest?”

“Yes,” Officer Hayes replied softly, taken aback by Whitaker’s sudden revelation. "We'll finish getting your statement, Doctor Santos and then we'll see about investigating this alleged storage locker..."

The door opened and footsteps neared, but Robby was so exhausted by the events of the day that he didn’t open his eyes. A quiet sniffle suddenly filled the air, propelling Robby into a higher state of awareness, but he kept his eyes closed because he wanted to discern who was actually in the room before he took on the effort of opening his eyes.

“Hey, Frank, it’s Dennis,” Whitaker’s soft, shaky voice suddenly filled the air. “Um, the police were talking to Santos about your…your situation and I, um....I shared about the box under your cot in your storage locker. I didn’t mean to, but Santos was telling the police that you knew about your wife’s list of customers, and you knew about it...all that she was doing. I'm not sure when you found out about it, but I worry about how many bruises and black eyes you took before Abby was convinced that she had you silent and refusing to tell anyone what she was doing. God knows what you went through before you met me and had a friend in your corner. There were probably a lot of bruises that I don’t know about, as there are quite a few tapes and photos in the locker you've never told me about. Anyway, Santos also said nobody here or in your life wants you around, but that’s not true. Santos also called you a pretender and that there was no proof that you were being abused, so I told them there was. I know…I know you’re probably going to be pissed at me for blabbing about our secret and may not want to talk to me anymore when all this crap is settled, but…I’m sorry, I…I have to tell the truth now…right now…or else you are going to die. I don’t want you to die.”

Another sniffle filled the air, followed by footsteps. Robby opened his eyes just in time to see a trembling, sniffling Whitaker leave the room with his back to Robby. Robby quickly checked to make sure Frank was still asleep and stable. He noticed that there were now a few milk bones at Oliver’s feet and wondered if Whitaker had left them there. Sighing, Robby stood up under the guise of taking a stretch, frowning when he saw Whitaker meet up with Officer Hayes and Gloria not far from the room. What Whitaker had said scared the hell out of him, Robby thought, but he was not going to intervene because it was clear that Whitaker had spoken to the police in an attempt to help Frank and that's what they wanted to do, was help Frank get out of the very big mess he was currently in.

Sighing tiredly, Robby returned to his chair and took another swig of Sprite before closing his eyes again. He had tomorrow off and so maybe if Frank stayed asleep, he too would get some rest. He knew he wouldn’t get any rest if Frank was awake because it seemed like every time Frank Langdon opened his mouth during his time as a hospital patient, some new horrific fact about himself and his life came to light, and it was truly starting to freak him out to the level of freaked he had been during the COVID-19 pandemic…

Footsteps suddenly filled the air again as the door opened, but Robby didn’t wake because he didn’t want to see another troubling scene like he had seen and heard from Whitaker. A gentle poke in the shoulder, however, suddenly prompted him to open his eyes. To his surprise, Dr. Abbot was lingering above him looking concerned, “How’s being grounded?” Dr. Abbot asked softly.

“Oh, it’s making me realize that I don’t know as much as I thought I did and making me regret things I’ve said and done,” Robby replied groggily. “Speaking of knowledge…”

Exhaling anxiously, Robby got up and gathered the papers from Frank’s lap, stuffing them back in the folder before putting the folder back on the portable table, as he and Frank could deal with that later…much later. He then looked at Dr. Abbot, who was eyeing Frank and the sleeping service dog with interest.

“This explains a lot,” Dr. Abbot spoke quietly, gesturing to Oliver. “I always felt like Langdon was showing signs of having scars of severe trauma and I wondered if he had a service dog or was getting counseling for whatever crap he was dealing with. I was gonna pull him aside and ask him if he had or needed any help after the PittFest thing, but he left before I could grab him and then I heard a lot of rumors about things he allegedly did and a fight you two had outside. I, um, don’t think Frank Langdon is an addict, Robby. Nervousness and sweating…those are common symptoms of PTSD. Whoever decided that he was an addict just because of those symptoms and a collection of pills in his locker really didn’t do their homework. The proper thing would have been to test him on the spot and then act after the results were back and only act if he tested positive for something. I have to ask...are you still seeing the therapist you got after Doctor Adamson died?”

Robby glared at Dr. Abbot, but nodded, “If you are, maybe they can teach you about how to properly assess a situation you’re not sure about instead of acting in anger based on limited information,” Dr. Abbot spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking his head in disbelief that Robby had been so stupid as to act without thinking. “That, I hear, happened tonight because you got in a pissing match with a cop who was trying to talk to Doctor Langdon and I also heard you stole evidence from the police…”

“Gloria made me give it back and she’s convening an emergency meeting of the board tonight to discuss my pissing match with the cop and she grounded me from patient care for the rest of my shift except to help Frank,” Robby replied with a sigh. “The cop left a tape recorder running in the room to try and trick Frank and Frank…he had some sort of…PTSD meltdown that was caught on tape. He admitted to being abused and raped and stealing the drugs in the meltdown. I did try to get Frank moved to the ICU for quiet and privacy, but Officer Hayes put a stop to that…like really fast. He says he needs Frank down here to be able to keep an eye on him, but how can anyone think this is healthy or safe? Keeping a patient in the same area of the hospital where he was attacked…”

Dr. Abbot sighed heavily, “You’ll probably get a slap on the wrist and the board may take a vacation day or two away from you, but you haven’t gone anywhere, even a staycation, since before the pandemic began, so I doubt that will bother you very much,” he replied in a reassuring tone. “You’re off tomorrow, so why don’t you go home early and…?”

“I promised Frank I’d take care of him tomorrow and Gloria also wants me to be his doctor while he’s here in The Pitt,” Robby interrupted softly. “If we can get through the night without any more problems, maybe I can gently persuade him to talk to the police tomorrow. If he wakes up, that is…God, I better not jinx it. I’ll take naps through the night and I already had dinner. I’m also worried about Whitaker, cause he and some cops went to some storage locker God knows where to get evidence of past abuse Frank endured, but I’m letting him deal with that because I have my hands full already. I think Frank scared Mel earlier with his PTSD outburst, as he thought she was Abby trying to hurt him. I think she was scared by it cause she left after he was on the vent and I haven’t seen her since, but I’m not going to tell anyone about that. I’m just going to try and minimize who interacts with Frank, at least when he’s conscious. Psych absolutely refuses to get involved and when Kiara tried talking to him earlier, Frank most their time thinking about how to lie to her…”

Dr. Abbot gave Robby a look, “I think everyone already knows about Langdon’s outburst because people are talking about how he was screaming,” he explained grimly. “They’re all confused about what’s going on with him. Dana’s worried as hell, Santos is…Santos, and everyone else is either confused and wants to help if they can. Anyway, Robby, you are going to wear yourself out if you don’t sleep while Langdon is sedated. I can get a cot or a gurney in here if you don’t wanna go anywhere, but you gotta get some rest somewhere besides a rickety chair. Sleep will refresh you.”

“You know, Jack, how Frank looks right now is reminding me of how Doctor Adamson looked right before he died,” Robby spoke in a quiet, but grim tone of voice. “I know I shouldn’t go there, but I’m going there and hoping to God that Frank…that he doesn’t end up like Adamson…dead. I’m not even sure if I believe in God anymore because Adamson died, but if God exists…I hope He helps Frank.”

Dr. Abbot raised an eyebrow, “You can’t go revisit Doctor Adamson in your head every time you see a sedated patient who’s intubated, Robby,” he replied worriedly. “Or is it Frank triggering all of these weird emotions and behaviors you're showing?”

“I’ve learned so much about Frank today and it’s absolutely killing me to know it all because I could have done something sooner if I had known sooner,” Robby spoke grimly. “The abuse he’s been enduring, it’s gone on three years. I was at this hospital then and so was he. Why didn’t I notice anything?”

Dr. Abbot sighed, “You know as well as I do the lengths abuse victims can and will go to hide that they are being abused,” he explained softly. “All you can do now that you know is offer support…if he’ll take it. At the same time, though, you don’t need to destroy yourself waiting for him to be well enough to make up his mind about that. I’ll get you a cot or a bed so you can sleep and me and the other night shifters will be around to check in on Langdon so you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Alright,” Robby acquiesced tiredly, unable to deny that he was exhausted from caring for Frank and protecting the man from his endless problems. “Thank you, Jack.”

Nodding, Dr. Abbot left the room and Robby got up to stretch while keeping an eye on Frank.

Even though he had been to the storage locker with Dr. Langdon before at night, as that had become their ‘secret spot’ where they would go to patch his injuries up since doing it in public would attract attention and possible questions from ‘street teams,’ Whitaker was nervous about going there now.

It wasn’t going to the locker itself at night that made him nervous, Whitaker thought to himself as he stood in front of the locker, silently waiting for the all-clear to open it and go in. He was nervous because he was voluntarily bringing the police to a place that Dr. Langdon had considered ‘safe’ for the past two and a half years, as the man had not invested in the locker until six months after the abuse had started. Whitaker had learned the story behind the locker during one of their chats and had continually been thinking about it since Frank had brought into The Pitt. He and Frank had pooled money after becoming acquainted with each other’s situation at the end of September and had bought a mess of dollar store first aid supplies to keep in the locker in case Frank ever needed them and Whitaker had invited him to text or call him for help if he was ever injured and on the street and they would meet at the locker to deal with the injuries. Frank had agreed, having become tired of dodging well-meaning ‘street teams’ every time he got thrown out of his house sporting injuries. He had become too recognizable by most medical people in the city and was too afraid…

“Okay, kid, are we doing this tonight?” the concerned voice of Officer Hayes suddenly filled the air.

Whitaker quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts just in time to see Officer Hayes hand him the key to the locker, which the police had pulled out of evidence quite quickly. Silently praying that Frank would forgive him for bringing cops to their ‘secret spot,’ Whitaker silently unlocked the storage locker and looked at Officer Hayes expectantly, wanting to be told what to do next.

“Well?” Officer Hayes said in an expectant voice. “We don’t know where things are in there, so we’re going to do a bit of a tour of the locker to look for evidence and you’re going to lead that tour while we record what you tell us and photograph everything. Ready?”

Whitaker really wasn’t, but he nodded and tried not to let the light from the officers’ flashlights blind him as he entered the storage locker. He silently passed by three suitcases that sat against one wall and a few boxes that sat stacked against the other that had garment bags on top of them because he knew the cot, the ‘secret patch up station,’ and the photos and recordings were back there and he was getting pure anxiety just being here with police. He needed a moment to himself before he blew Frank’s entire life to hell.

The cot was still in the far-right corner and was covered by a rough looking gray blanket, which covered the box he had mentioned to the police, and a worn pillow. The small ‘med-table’ was still in its place and had been there ever since he had ‘rescued’ it from the school after they had decided to discard it for a more modern style. A metal trash can full of used, bloody supplies sat under the table along with a small box that held burner phones, phones that he and Frank had used to keep in touch with each other so their arrangement wouldn’t be found out by Abby Langdon. Frank had left his burner phone at the locker the last time they had met there, declaring that he had gotten a divorce papers package and was going to present them to Abby at the first possible opportunity. Whitaker had been happy for Frank, but also knew that it wouldn’t be easy for him to leave and had kept his key in case they needed to meet at the locker again. What had happened last night had proved just how right he was to worry. Whitaker thought to himself as he looked over the furniture and his eyes came to rest on the table.

Atop the table sat a rickety first-aid kit, a glue gun, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, clean gauze and a small pile of other dollar store first-aid supplies that they had bought recently. Two chairs, chairs that he had also ‘rescued’ from campus, sat beside the table and Whitaker sighed as he remembered the many times he and Frank had sat in those chairs. Frank had been deathly quiet every time he needed an injury patched up, documented, and photographed, but Whitaker had never forced the man into unnecessary conversations.

A small mirror was also on the table, something Frank had used to look at himself and self-deprecate for hours after his injuries were patched. Whitaker hadn’t liked that the older man had done that, but he hadn’t dared say anything that might cause Frank to lose trust in him and his ability to be of help. He had simply helped Frank and then listened to him rant, sob, or cry.

A flashlight suddenly hit the area, bathing it in light, “What the hell is this?!” Officer Hayes asked in a slightly horrified voice. “You better start explaining yourself, kid. Is this some sort of clinic?!”

Whitaker sighed heavily, “This is where we’d meet whenever Doctor Langdon got injured and kicked out of his house by his wife,” he explained nervously. “He’d call me, and I’d meet him and talk to him and give him first aid. He’d tell me what to do to patch him up, and he’d let me photograph and document the injuries. He was too scared of the ‘street teams’ recognizing him and giving the hospital a heads-up to get help from any of them. He…he trusted me when we first met in a diner at the end of September. He was banged up and he let me help him and then we decided to tend to his injuries here so people in public wouldn’t call the ‘street teams’ on him…”

Officer Hayes raised an eyebrow, “Where the box?” he asked in a quiet voice, more than a little creeped out by Whitaker’s words. “And street teams aren’t the badguys…”

Whitaker pointed under the cot, “Um, Doctor Langdon was scared that if the street teams treated him, they’d report his injuries back to the hospital, and there would be a public record of them and possibly investigations into how he got them,” he explained nervously. “I know all this wasn’t exactly legal cause I’m a medical student and Doctor Langdon’s a resident, but he was terrified and couldn’t trust anyone else. He’s a good guy, but my God, the situation with his wife scared the hell out of him. Sometimes when we would talk about his injuries, Doctor Langdon would go into these trances where he would go completely still and silent, and his eyes would close. I was worried he was passing out or having a seizure, but he’d usually snap out of it after ten seconds…”

“Those were probably post-traumatic flashbacks,” Officer Hayes explained grimly as he retrieved the box, which actually turned out to be a small, but wide plastic storage container with dual plastic lids, out from underneath the cot with gloved hands and examined it. The container was full of photo envelopes and negatives from various Photo Labs around the city, a small notebook and pen, a small digital camera, a tape recorder, and several small tapes with pieces of Scotch tape on them that had dates written on them in black felt marker. A black felt marker was at the bottom of the mess in the bin.

Whitaker suddenly looked solemn, “I think he used to document his injuries himself here before we met up at the end of September, as there are things in there that I don’t remember documenting and Frank wouldn’t tell me about them,” he spoke worriedly. “I…I’m sorry. He…he needed a friend.”

Officer Hayes looked at Whitaker and sighed tiredly when he saw that the young-med student was tearing up and trying to look like he wasn’t, “Nobody is in trouble,” he replied in a patient, but firm voice. “At least not with the police. You were helping Doctor Langdon in the way he would let you help him. I do have to shut this little storage locker clinic down, however, now that I’m aware of it. I also have to make the hospital aware of all of this. You might get a talking-to, but my hope is that they will see sense and determine that you were simply trying to help a friend very much in need.”

Whitaker looked extremely nervous about ‘getting a talking-to’ because he had already gotten that from Santos after Santos had found out he was homeless, but a discussion with Gloria, Robby, and the rest of the hospital board was probably very much unavoidable now that his and Langdon’s ‘secret patch up station’ and the documented proof of it had been revealed to the police.

Officer Hayes sighed at Whitaker’s nervousness, but he gestured to the ‘patch up station’ and the tapes, “For the record, Mister Whitaker, why don’t you take me through everything that you know about this little station and your interactions with Doctor Langdon while you were hiding out in this storage locker? Officer Garner will be searching for things Doctor Langdon might need at the hospital while we talk. Do you want to sit down while we talk? You look extremely shaky…”

Swallowing hard, Whitaker nodded and silently sat in his chair at the ‘med station’ while Officer Hayes took the chair that Frank had sat in so many times to address his injuries. Whitaker silently clasped his hands together as he looked directly at Officer Hayes and the recorder he held.

“All right, Mister Whitaker,” Officer Hayes spoke in a gentle voice. “Please tell me everything you can about this little mini-clinic of yours and Doctor Langdon's...and I mean....everything."

Exhaling nervously, Whitaker nodded, "This...this is Doctor Langdon's safe space," he began in a nervous voice, trying his hardest to stay composed as he provided Officer Hayes with information about the locker and the 'patch-up station.' "It's the only place he feels safe from his unsafe life and the world that doesn't understand who he really is and what he's really gone through..."

Chapter Text

A buzzing sound filled Robby’s ears and he ignored it briefly before it hit him that the buzzing was his phone alarm going off, an alarm that he had set for 5 a.m. after drifting off around 11 p.m. the night before on the gurney Jack had brought him to nap on.

Exhaling softly, Robby slowly sat up and the first thing that he could see from across the room was that Frank and Oliver were both still asleep on their bed.

As Robby got off his cot and moved to grab the sandwich and Sprite he had left on Frank’s portable tray along with Frank’s chart, the folder of papers, and Frank’s cranberry juice, the door opened and Dr. Abbot wandered into the room pulling a medical cart with him, “Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Jack spoke in an amused voice. “Do you feel better?”

“I got about six hours of sleep,” Robby replied groggily, sighing as he stretched his neck. “It should be enough considering I’m officially off today and just here for the meeting with the board and to help Frank. Did he wake up at all during the night?”

Dr. Abbot sighed grimly, “I think he’s still deciding whether or not he wants to wake up,” he observed softly. “The readings I got through the night made it seem like he might wake up, but then he never did, so I think he’s deciding whether or not it’s worth it to actually do it. Whatever is going on in his head is not good, Robby. Not by a longshot.”

“Psych won’t even touch him,” Robby replied worriedly as he turned away from the bed along with Jack so they could talk privately. “I don’t know what to do. How do I help him, Jack?”

“…patience, first of all, which is not your strong suit, would be good…”

“…At least I have the energy to exercise a little of that now. I have to save some for my little sit down the board meeting later, though. Do you know when it is?...”

Am I in the ICU? Frank thought to himself as he slowly came back into a state of awareness and began to move his fingers around in hopes of feeling something familiar. Robby said something about the ICU…

Oliver’s head suddenly connected with his wayward hand and Frank sighed and tried to speak, but quickly found that he couldn’t speak and a wooshing sound was nearby. Am I on a vent? He wondered, deeply alarmed. What…what happened last night that made them put me on a vent?

Frank decided to try opening his eyes at that very moment and he was immediately overwhelmed by the bright lights in the room. He blinked and he was immediately less overwhelmed, but he was still confused about why he was on a vent. What time is it, anyway? Frank thought to himself. I feel like I just woke up from a very long nap…

Oliver’s whine filled the air without warning, and it seemed so loud to Frank that he nearly bit the tube in an attempt to speak, but he stopped himself. All of a sudden, he found himself staring up at Robby and Dr. Abbot, both of whom looked unusually concerned, but gentle, “Hey there,” Robby spoke in an unusually gentle voice. “Jack, how are the…”

Frank listened intently as Robby and Dr. Abbot discussed his vitals and how it would pan out if they were to extubate him, but he was so exhausted that he could barely take in everything that was being said. All of a sudden, however, he felt his bed being raised and heard noise after noise: a suction device, tape being pulled off his mouth, and a woosh as the vent was disconnected.

“All right, Frank, take a deep breath, then exhale while I pull out the tube,” Frank heard Robby instruct calmly. “All right, on three…take a deep breath…one, two, three…”

Frank took a deep breath and then exhaled as much as he could when he heard Robby order him to. As the tube was pulled from his throat, Frank felt himself began to dry cough, but he also heard suctioning noises before he felt an oxygen mask be placed over his face. He immediately tried to speak, but his throat hurt too much and he had to close his eyes briefly because of the pain.

When he opened his eyes again, Frank felt himself handed a pad of paper and a pen, “Don’t try to speak yet,” he heard Robby tell him gently. “Use that if you need to communicate.”

As much as Frank wanted to tell Robby off for being so weird, as Michael Robinavitch actually being nice and attentive to him after their big blowout outside was weird and it was actually creeping him out, Frank knew he didn’t have the energy to have that conversation at the moment, so he briefly thought about what other things he could remember from last night and then began to write.

Kids?

Abby?

Robby and Dr. Abbot both stared at the messy writing for a few moments before Robby understood what Frank was asking: he wanted to know about his kids and about Abby. Why Frank wanted to know about Abby after she had sent dealers to beat the hell out of him and after she had threatened his life in The Pitt was confusing and concerning, Robby thought to himself as he stared at the words. However…

“Um, your kids are at Dana’s,” Dr. Abbot spoke up nervously, remembering that he had finally given Dana the all-clear to leave around midnight and she had gone home with an officer escort after leaving behind a promise that she wasn’t coming back til the next day so she could get Tanner and Maria properly settled in their temporary foster home. “She called earlier and said she hopes you’re getting some rest and that the kids miss you.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and tapped Abby with the pen with an expectant expression on his face and Dr. Abbot immediately looked at Robby for a way to answer the question that wouldn’t cause upset. Dr. Abbot and Robby both knew that the police had suddenly taken off with Whitaker late last night to run some sort of mysterious errand related to Frank’s situation, but nobody except Gloria knew where they had gone. And they still didn’t know what was going on with that, as the police and Whitaker had eventually returned to the hospital around one a.m., but had they had immediately gone into a closed-door meeting with the board and Gloria without offering any explanation except to tell all of the attendings about it. Dr. Abbot had briefly woken Robby to tell him, but then had told the man to get more sleep. Robby decided, however, to keep that particular bit of news from Frank simply because it was clear the man did not need the stress of knowing that the investigation was ongoing and now involved Whitaker.

“I don’t think that’s something we need to talk about right now,” Robby spoke in a gentle, but firm voice as he gave Frank a look that warned him he had better not argue. “Do you have anything else you wanna talk about?”

Rolling his eyes, Frank took the pad back and wrote several more things on the board before showing it again. Again, the writing was messy, but both Robby and Dr. Abbot could read it.

Oliver is probably hungry and thirsty and needs to go out. He had milk bones last night that Dennis brought him, but he needs food and outside time now. Can someone please help me with that? I would take care of Oliver myself, as I’m much too fat and need exercise, but I can’t get out of bed because of the chest tubes and because I’m feeling like crap.

Dr. Abbot and Robby each raised an eyebrow at the ‘fat’ comment, as that was very clear evidence that the abuse Frank had endured was not just physical. Frank, however, had suddenly dropped the pen on the table and the pad of paper on his lap and exhaled tiredly.

“I can take him out and also find him some food and water,” Robby offered softly, quickly snatching the sandwich and Sprite off the table because he could split the sandwich with Oliver and drink the Sprite while Oliver was outside. “I need to stretch my legs anyway. I’ll be right back. Um…”

As if understanding he was going to be taken outside, Oliver suddenly got up and got off the bed and Robby noticed a looped leash clipped to the vest and sat alongside a slightly lumpy pouch that was sealed with a zipper. Robby silently unclipped the leash and gently led Oliver out of the room. Tears immediately filled Frank’s eyes and he began to sweat profusely, but Dr. Abbot immediately cleared his throat, attracting his attention. Dr. Abbot could see the panic in Frank’s face and knew it was there because he had been separated from Oliver unwillingly and it had happened so many times that Frank now couldn’t differentiate between Abby taking the dog and holding it hostage to control his behavior and Robby taking the dog so it could have its needs met. All Frank knew was that the dog was gone and he was immediately freaking out…

“Oliver will be right back,” Dr. Abbot spoke reassuringly. “Doctor Rabinovich just took him outside to do his business and then he’ll get him some food and water. Why don’t we do some vitals and I’ll check your throat while we wait for them to come back? It’ll keep your mind off of it. Blink if you agree that’s a good idea. I don’t want you moving your head or neck or talking right now.”

Frank blinked and Dr. Abbot nodded, “All right, then,” he replied calmly. “Let’s start with vitals.”

“Dennis, why are you still here?” Santos’s concerned, slightly annoyed voice filled the air as Robby stepped outside with Oliver and moved over to a patch of grass near the building. “It’s like five-thirty in the morning and you have a shift today. Have you gotten any sleep?”

A tired sigh filled the air, “Doctor Underwood…she gave me a pass on today, but I wanted to wait around after the meeting for you to get released,” Whitaker’s voice replied in a tired tone. “I had to meet with the police and Doctor Underwood and the board last night…”

“Over Langdon…right?” Santos interrupted in a pissed off voice. “Oh my God. Why are you even involved in this whole thing, Dennis? Dana and I were the ones who went over to his house and almost got killed after some dude shot at us and then set Langdon’s house on fire with us inside! Langdon was only brought in here cause Doctor Robby supposedly found him half-dead in a park! Langdon was probably high, got into it with someone, and lied about being beaten by dealers so he’d get some sympathy! I saw that drug list on his kitchen table and those divorce papers and I grabbed them cause the police deserved to know just exactly what kind of idiot he is! If Langdon was being abused, why the hell didn’t he just leave and take his children? Why did he stay, knowing what his wife was supposedly up to? He stayed for the drugs! God, I wish that bastard would have just overdosed before Robby found him so we wouldn’t have to deal with him now!”

Robby was suddenly angry and was about to go tell Santos off and present her with the facts he had when Whitaker suddenly sighed tiredly, “I was with the police last night cause we were at Langdon’s storage locker downtown,” Whitaker explained in a quiet, but grim voice. “It was Frank’s safe space. It was where he and I would meet when he got hurt at home and wanted to hide from street teams. We had a little station set up in the back of the locker and he’d call me on a burner phone whenever he’d need help. He had that phone so his wife wouldn’t find his calls for help, as she was always searching his phone. Anyway, whenever he called me on the burner phone, since I had my own to keep track of him, I’d meet him and we’d sit together in the locker and I’d patch him up with dollar store first aid supplies and we’d talk. He let me even take photos of his injuries and let me record him talking about how he got them, but he wouldn’t let me involve the police. I finally snapped last night and told the cops everything after I heard you talking crap about him to the cops after the fire at his house. They have everything now and Doctor Underwood recommended I get mandatory counseling. The board’s also trying to get the Langdons some help, but they’re still in closed meeting talking about that. They kicked me out after my part was done and the police are still hanging around cause they wanna drive you home before they come back to talk to Frank. I’ve got today off, I’m on mandatory counseling for at least a month, and the hospital also wants to give me some weird humanitarian and monetary award for what I did for Frank. I don’t want an award…”

“It’ll help you to be able to get through life a little easier and you’ll also be able to help with groceries,” Santos replied softly. “I know you’ve been worried about contributing…”

Whitaker sighed tiredly, “I’m not worried about that right now,” he replied softly. “I wanna see if I can sneak in to see Frank before I head back to the apartment. I went in and talked to him last night, but he was sedated and intubated. I need to tell him what I did and apologize for breaking my eword. I promised Frank back in September that I would never, ever tell the police about his safe space and I had to last night cause I don’t want him to die from abuse. Some of the injuries I’ve seen…I’ve honestly been so afraid he was gonna go home after we met up and end up getting killed. His wife sampled product a lot before giving it out to dealers and it made her very strong and aggressive…”

Robby froze, but he was prevented from speaking or revealing himself because footsteps approached, “Doctor Santos, are you ready for your escort home?” Officer Garner asked softly. “Officer Hayes is sticking around to speak with Doctor Langdon…”

Santos scoffed and said something, but Robby didn’t hear it because he noticed that Oliver had done his business and decided to take him inside to eat and drink just in case Officer Hayes was hanging around Frank’s room again. Robby knew that even though Frank was awake, he was still not in any shape to talk to the police. He was not able to talk, for one…

As Robby took Oliver inside, he didn’t notice that Santos and Whitaker had seen him and were now wondering if he had overheard their conversation. Officer Garner, meanwhile, was hanging out by his car, waiting for Santos to actually be ready to go and to also offer Whitaker a ride anywhere he needed to go if he wanted to leave too.

“…I’m not gonna take any statement from you right now, Doctor Langdon,” Officer Hayes was saying as Robby approached the exam room with a plastic bowl of water in one hand and Oliver’s leash in the other while the boxed sandwich sat in his pocket. “I’m just talking to you to let you know there’s gonna be police guarding. We had a meeting last night after the fire and Doctor Underwood insisted upon you having security because of the fire and because your wife and your attackers are currently unaccounted for…”

Robby surveyed the room and saw that Dr. Abbot was standing back so Officer Hayes could sit next to the bed and be at eye level with Frank. Frank sighed quietly and blinked, indicating he understood what he had just been told, but Robby could tell Frank was at his limit with being able to stay awake and listen to people. Fortunately, Officer Hayes could also tell that and gently patted the top of Frank’s hand before getting up, an act that Frank accepted.

“It’s going to be okay,” the officer spoke softly. “Just rest now. You and your kids and your service animal are gonna be safe. We even sent a car over to Nurse Evans’ home…”

Frank suddenly grabbed the pen off the tray and wrote something on the pad even though his hand shook badly as he wrote. He then showed it to Officer Hayes, who raised an eyebrow in concern at what he was reading, “Can I take this note with me?” he asked softly, gently tearing the paper off the pad and tucking it in his jacket pocket when Frank blinked, indicating he was fine with it. “I’ll see what I can do about that for you, all right? Get some rest.”

As Frank closed his eyes to sleep, Officer Hayes left the room, “What was in the note?” Robby asked curiously.

“That’s between Doctor Langdon and I, Doctor Robinavitch,” Officer Hayes replied simply, sighing tiredly. “I’ve been up all night reviewing evidence and I need some coffee and a chair so I can sit outside Doctor Langdon’s room. I’ll be right back.”

Frank suddenly woke to cough and Robby checked his watch, seeing that it was just six, meaning that an hour had passed since Frank had extubated, meaning it was time to get him to drink some fluids.

Quickly setting the water dish down at the end of the bed so Oliver could drink if he needed to, Robby silently moved over to the bed and grabbed the glass of cranberry juice off the bed, “It’s time for you to have a bit of a drink so your throat can heal, Frank,” he spoke softly, gently removing the mask from Frank’s face. “I know you want to sleep, but this will only take a minute. It’s just leftover cranberry juice from yesterday...”

Frank, however, stayed quiet as Robby put the straw in his mouth and he drank the remainder of the juice that was in the glass even though it hurt his throat to do it. My days here are numbered. Frank thought to himself, a grim expression on his face as he removed the straw from his mouth with shaky fingers. I’m not feeling good at all, but as soon as these chest tubes are out, they’re gonna terf me and I don’t have any place to go or a plan of how I’m gonna handle everything. Hopefully, Officer Hayes can connect me with some in-patient wellness centers somewhere else in the city. I can always extend the kids’ stay in foster care while I sort myself out. I…I need to stop thinking about wanting to die and the actual plan I made to commit suicide the night I had my shouting match with Robby. I was going to do it quickly and quietly and then Abby called and my life turned into…whatever this is. My God…this crap I’m thinking about isn’t healthy at all, but I can’t even tell anyone here because people don’t care. What is wrong with me that I’m thinking this way?! I guess nobody’s told me that I should be thinking different. I want to, but I can’t seem to stop because I don’t know how. Kiara even looked like she would rather be anywhere or doing anything else than talking to me the other day and she’s a social worker who’s used to dealing with all kinds of people. I’m just so overwhelmed by bad thoughts, and I really hate having to pretend that I’m happy to be here around people who would rather see me disappear. I’m not even in the ICU like Robby said I would be. I’m still in The Pitt. It’s very easy to throw me to the street from The Pitt. I bet they’re already planning to do it. I might as well make it easy for them and make a plan and not even tell Dennis. I’ve wrecked Dennis’s life enough and he’s going to be a doctor soon. He needs to focus on building himself up instead of fixing me up when I’m too broken to do anything for myself…

Frank suddenly felt Oliver pawing at the bed anxiously as if he wanted to be up there because he sensed something was very wrong with his master. Robby silently put Oliver on the bed and Oliver immediately whined and began insistently nudging Frank’s uninjured hand with his head. Both Dr. Abbot and Robby sensed something was up because Frank didn’t pet Oliver right away and instead continued to sit there still and silent, deeply lost in thought with pure sadness in his expression.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Frank began to cough again and so Robby fit the mask back over his face, “Get some sleep,” Robby spoke encouragingly, trying his best to remain so even though he could see nothing but despair in Frank’s eyes. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Sure you will. Frank thought darkly as he turned his face away from Robby and Dr. Abbot and pretended to sleep. You’ll be here while it’s convenient. While it’s easy. Once I’m well enough to be released, I’ll be gone and you’ll be back to your life. I’m just a project to you. I lost your trust by lying about my life and I’ll live with that for however much longer I have to force myself to live in this godawful world…

Robby looked at Dr. Abbot questioningly, “What did Officer Hayes say before I got in here, Jack?” he asked softly, knowing full well that Frank was not actually sleeping so he had to talk quietly.

“Officer Hayes just told Doctor Langdon that he was in the clear legally,” Dr. Abbot replied in a whisper. “By the way, Gloria sent me a text while you were outside with Oliver. You don’t need to go meet with the board. She’ll come talk to you when they’re done talking. She just wants you to stay here and help Doctor Langdon with whatever he needs: a listening ear, medical stuff, whatever…”

Robby nodded, frowning as Officer Hayes suddenly came back with a chair, a stuffed folder, and a cup of coffee. To Robby’s surprise, Dr. Abbot suddenly left the room, closed the door behind him, and began talking with the officer as if they both knew something Robby or Frank didn’t. Robby watched worriedly as Officer Hayes began reviewing the folder with Dr. Abbot. He was about to step out and ask what the folder was when he suddenly heard writing.

Confused, Robby turned and saw Frank was shakily writing on the pad of paper again while crying and sweating profusely. Alarmed that Frank was going to do real harm to himself if he wasn’t talked down, Robby moved over to the bed and sat. He immediately grew worried when he saw what Frank was writing.

I need to get out of here and find Abby because I can fix this. I can talk to her. I’ve always been able to talk to her and get her to calm down. I just need to get out of here. She did what she did because I made her angry. I didn’t listen to her and that’s why all this happened. I just need to…

You’ve always been able to get her to calm down by letting her use you as a punching bag and now you’re offering yourself on a silver platter? Robby thought darkly, not at all pleased with what he was reading. God, Frank, do you not understand that you are going to die if you keep going back?

I’ve had enough. Robby thought, sighing softly as he gently took hold of Frank’s wrist to stop him from writing. I’m taking that note and I’m personally going to march it to Psych and make them see that Frank clearly needs someone to talk to before he does something that cannot be fixed.

Frank looked at him, an expression of pure resignation in his face as he tried to speak. Robby moved the mask off his face, as that was easier to do than let go of Frank’s wrist and watch him write any more crap about how he was simply going to return to a situation that was going to kill him.

“I…I am an…addict, Robby!” Frank yelled shakily in a loud, pained tone, hot tears streaming down his face as he gazed down at his blanket. “That’s right, Robby, you smug, self-righteous, hyper-controlling, little bastard! I…am…an…addict…and you…you were right! Frank Langdon is nothing but a worthless addict who everyone should get the hell away from as fast as they can! I’m addicted to the hell…which is the deepest, darkest, loneliest pit of hell, by the way…that I am currently trapped in with absolutely no way to get out or no hope at all that I will ever get out! I’m trapped until I die…however and whenever that may be! It may not be good…I mean, having my spouse beat on me constantly in whatever way she can and threaten my life and the lives of my children and my dog is never good… but…it’s what I know! I…I’ve gotten…I’ve gotten used to it, okay?! I’m still alive! How I’m handling it…it’s keeping me alive! The control…the stuff that I’ve had to endure…I’ve gotten used to it! I’ve come…I’ve come to depend on it…for my survival…for my wellness...to keep me…alive and everyone else in my world…alive! It’s what I’ve come to see as…comfortable! And I am scared as hell to live without it…to consider life outside of it…because I don’t know if life outside of it…if it’s any better than…!”

Oliver was tapping Frank’s wrist expectantly as Frank sobbed, so Robby silently released Frank’s wrist so Frank could pet Oliver. All of a sudden, however, Frank hurled the pad of paper towards the far wall, but his limited strength and poor aim made it end up on the floor at Robby’s feet instead.

Robby’s eyes remained on Frank and as Robby watched as Frank finally rested his shaking hand on Oliver’s head, he was unaware that he and Frank were both being watched. Frank’s anxious, raised voice had carried outside of the room and had been overheard and caught on tape by Officer Hayes, who was collecting a recorded statement from Dr. Abbot about how Dr. Langdon had done during the night. Dr. Abbot had also overheard all of Frank’s very clearly and was now frozen in place by it in that he was shellshocked into silence. For once, Dr. Abbot truly didn’t know how to react and he had worked in the ED for years and had seen and heard many things, but Frank’s rant…that truly topped almost everything he had ever heard and seen. Frank’s dangerous beliefs truly horrified him. Officer Hayes, meanwhile, looked at the floor because he hated that his suspicions about Frank Langdon being a worst-case scenario were right. He truly hated it and he didn’t know what he was going to do about it even though Doctor Langdon had asked him privately to find him an in-patient place where he could continue his recovery since The Pitt was going to kick him out once he was medically stable and the hospital didn’t seem to care too much about what became of him after that. Officer Hayes had promised to try, but at the same time, the officer knew that it would be a stretch due to reduced budgets for services like that making it hard for people in need of help to access services. COVID had blown every single caregiving resource in the nation to hell, Officer Hayes knew, and no place in the city of Pittsburgh had fully recovered yet even though there were hundreds of individuals, including Frank Langdon, who desperately needed assistance…

Unknown to Officer Hayes, Dr. Abbot, Robby, and Frank, the ED, which was just coming to life for the day, had also heard every word and everything and everyone had suddenly gone eerily quiet.

Robby, however, forced himself to stay composed even though his mind was truly blown by Frank’s horrific rant and he very much wanted to address Frank’s thoughts with him right then and there, as what Frank had written and Frank’s subsequent rant had truly chilled him to the bone and it needed addressing, but he could see that Frank was quickly drifting off while petting Oliver to calm himself.

Exhaling softly, Robby gently placed the oxygen mask back over Frank’s face and secured it there and Frank quickly surrendered to sleep with his hand still on Oliver’s head. He also gently stroked Frank’s unkempt hair and pressed the Nurse’s call button so someone could come and clean Frank up, as the sleeping man was now absolutely drenched in sweat and tears. It was as if Frank had run a full marathon while laying in his hospital bed and it was so, so chilling…

After checking the monitors, IV’s, and tubes that were connected to Frank to make sure no damage had been done, Robby got up, grabbed the pad of paper from the floor and moved over to the door. He stepped outside with the pad in hand and sighed heavily, immediately attracting the attention of both Dr. Abbot and Officer Hayes. Without saying a word, Robby showed them what Frank had written while he struggled to compose himself because the message was so very infuriating.

“I’m taking that upstairs to Psych and I will personally drag them down here if I have to because Frank definitely needs someone to talk to,” Robby finally spoke in a pissed off tone. “What I…”

Officer Hayes’ radio suddenly came to life, “…All available units report to Riverview Park,” an anxious dispatcher’s voice suddenly spoke. “Situation developing at Valley Refuge Shelter. Shots fired…multiple victims…and alleged sighting of suspect Abby Langdon…”

Robby’s eyes widened and he exchanged a concerned look with Dr. Abbot as Mateo came over to them, having been paged to Frank’s room, “Look, I gotta go and see what this is,” Officer Hayes spoke nervously as he stopped the recorder and put it in his pocket. “Don’t take Doctor Langdon anywhere. Hell, don’t even wake him up to tell him about this until we know for sure what this is…”

“The dispatch mentioned his wife,” Robby replied nervously. “What if she’s…?”

Officer Hayes sighed irritably, “Then we will bring that information back to you and only then, can you have a say in what happens. After the police give you an update about Abby Langdon...if she's even there...you can decide how and if you tell Doctor Langdon,” he replied in an annoyed voice. “I know you enjoy pressing my buttons, Doctor Robinavitch, and I’d usually tolerate it, but not right now. I have to get the hell over to Riverview Park and see what is going on. If Doctor Langdon wakes up and asks if something happened, as he will likely notice that I am not at the door where I told him I would be, I want you to lie to him. I know it’s best, and you know it’s best. Just…lie to him. And do not leave him unattended for even a minute. Someone in his state of mind…left alone…he might try to get out of bed to go help his wife out of whatever this is even though he’s injured, so do not leave him alone.”

Robby nodded grimly, knowing that Officer Hayes was right. Satisfied that he had gotten his message across clearly, Officer Hayes hurried out of The Pitt without saying goodbye.

“Jack, I know you’re gonna be done soon, but can you please go start implementing mass casualty incident protocols?” Robby pled in a concerned, but quiet voice, knowing he had to stay right where he was because he needed to personally supervise Frank at the moment until they knew more about what was happening. “We’re probably gonna get slammed with whatever mess they find at Riverview Park. I will help when and where I can, but Officer Hayes is right. If Frank hears about this and is left by himself, God only knows what he will try to do in order to make sure his wife is okay even though she is not good for him. I have to stay in the room with Frank and watch him. I promised Gloria that I would do that already, but now that I’ve got a clearer idea of Frank’s state of mind and Officer Hayes also recommended that Frank be kept under constant supervision due to his current state of mind, I have no choice but to be at his side every minute of the day or have someone there every minute of the day if I can’t personally be there. Psych won’t come down to him, so we’ll have to improvise and provide that support ourselves…”

Dr. Abbot nodded grimly, “I’ll get the ball rolling, Robby,” he promised softly. “Don’t worry.”

As Dr. Abbot hurried off to get the protocols in place, Robby looked at Mateo, “Mateo, I need you to help me get Doctor Langdon into a clean gown and he needs his face wiped off,” he spoke in a shaky voice. “He’s covered in sweat…and was crying…”

“I think a vitals check and an extra blanket would also be a good idea, Doctor Robby,” Mateo replied softly, having heard Frank’s dangerous rant and become worried for Dr. Langdon because of it.

Robby nodded and silently returned the room, choosing to silently linger beside the door with his arms folded across the pad of paper and his chest as he focused his attention on watching Frank sleep with a hand on Oliver’s head. Oliver was thankfully also asleep. Robby, meanwhile, deliberately kept himself as calm as possible because he knew if he didn’t, the dog would alert, wake Frank, and Frank’s anxiety would quickly spike to chaotic levels because the man would quickly figure out that something bad was going on.

And whatever chaos was developing at Valley Refuge Shelter in Riverview Park seemed bad enough, Robby thought grimly. Nobody needed to add to that chaos right now. Especially since that chaos was quite possibly intertwined with the mess that Frank was currently drowning in.

Chapter Text

“…All available units report to Riverview Park,” an anxious dispatcher’s voice repeated. “Situation developing at Valley Refuge Shelter. Shots fired…multiple victims…and alleged sighting of suspect Abby Langdon…”

Even though she was still sore from her fall in Frank Langdon’s burning house and wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed, Santos found herself looking across the front seat at Officer Garner with an expectant look on her face because she was curious about the Abby Langdon situation.

“No,” Officer Garner replied firmly, knowing what Santos wanted before she even asked. “Absolutely not.”

Whitaker, who had ultimately decided to come with them because he was exhausted from his late-night field trip and needed sleep before he prepped for finals, was asleep in the back seat and completely unaware of Santos’s idea. Santos, however, gave Officer Garner a pleading look.

“If it’s as bad as they’re saying on the radio, they’ll need doctors on scene,” Santos pressed anxiously. “We’re only about three blocks from the park and Dennis and I both have medical experience…”

Officer Garner scoffed, keeping his eyes on the road as he continued to drive, “My orders, which came from my senior partner, by the way, were to deliver you and Mister Whitaker back to your residence and then get my partner from the hospital…” he replied firmly. “They did not include…”

“This call has been echoing over the radio for the last 20 minutes!” Santos argued anxiously, annoyed that the cop wasn’t listening to her. “Your partner probably got the call too and is probably on his way over there too unless he’s stuck babysitting Doctor Langdon…”

Officer Garner was silent for a moment before he swore, flipped the siren, and changed course so that they were speeding towards the park, “Wait by my car until you see that paramedics have been given the all-clear to enter the scene!” he ordered in a firm voice. “Do not try to go anywhere by yourselves because we don’t know how many shots were fired or if the shooters are still active!”

Santos, meanwhile, smacked the barrier between the front and back seats, “Dennis!” she shouted.

“What?” Whitaker groaned sleepily as he sat up in his seat. “Are we back to your place yet?”

Santos scoffed, “No, Dennis, there’s been a shooting at Riverview Park,” she explained anxiously as she turned to look at him and saw him wake up immediately. “We’re going there to help…”

Whitaker’s eyes widened in surprise and concern, “Was this your idea?” he asked nervously, suddenly more than a little upset with her. “We…we were told to go home. Why would you ignore that after you were just in a fire last night? I mean, I know you’re a doctor, but…”

A solemn expression suddenly filled Santos’ face as she stared at Whitaker, “There’s talk on the police radio that Abby Langdon might be there,” Santos explained grimly.

Whitaker blinked, stunned silent for a moment as he stared at Santos with wide eyes.

“Oh…my…God,” Whitaker finally breathed anxiously. “What if she’s…?”

Santos, who was finally starting to believe Langdon might be innocent of everything she had accused him of doing and being after her chat with Whitaker last night, sighed grimly, “I don’t know,” she replied in an equally grim tone.

The sound of screams, loud crying, and gunfire filled the air as Santos and Whitaker got out of Officer Garner’s car as it sat parked just down the road from the shelter area, “Oh…for God sakes…” Officer Garner grumbled darkly as he quickly hurried around to the trunk of the squad car and popped the trunk. “We’re gonna need some protection before we go in there and nobody else is here yet. What the hell is taking everyone so long to respond?! Effing budget cuts…”

Santos and Whitaker were each surprised when Officer Garner handed them each a bulletproof vest, “Put these on before we go anywhere,” Officer Garner ordered in a quiet, but firm tone.

Exchanging a look, Santos and Whitaker obeyed, “Keep your hospital ID’s visible at all times and stay close to me,” Officer Garner spoke sternly as he quickly grabbed the AED and the general first aid kit out of the trunk and passed the AED to Whitaker and the first aid kit to Santos before grabbing an emergency blanket and also passing that to Whitaker. “One more thing…”

Santos and Whitaker watched as Officer Garner got on his radio, “Garner of 55 Austin on scene at Riverview Park,” he spoke into the radio. “I am here with Doctors Santos and Whitaker of the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. We arrived to hear screaming, crying, and additional gunshots. No other units have arrived yet. Over.”

“…Garner, this is Officer Hayes of 55 Austin,” Officer Hayes’s voice filled the air. “I am on en route to Riverview Park with 55 Thomas. SWAT is still mobilizing, and it could take time…”

More screams suddenly filled the air along with another shot, a shot that sounded closer to them than the previous ones did, “What was that?” Hayes’s voice asked in a concerned voice.

“That shot was closer than the last,” Officer Garner muttered anxiously, ignoring the radio. “We’re still not back to the levels we were before COVID, you know. And nobody wants to work for the police anymore. They think it’s a curse to be a cop and the salaries are crap cause the city’s shortfalling our budget. That hurts our bottom line in cases like these. God help us if everyone up at Valley Refuge Shelter dies cause SWAT takes their sweet time…”

Santos sighed, “You’re armed, so why don’t we just go up there?” she asked in an annoyed voice.

“Because we know nothing about the situation,” Officer Garner replied firmly, glaring at Santos as he got his gun out and had it at the ready. “You are not gonna act like a cowboy like you did last night when you and Nurse Evans went to the Langdon household without a police escort, Doctor Santos. If you wanna act up…”

Santos scoffed, “Doctor Langdon’s wife might be involved in this and Doctor Langdon’s still at the hospital,” she replied grimly.

“Look, I know, okay?” Officer Garner replied in an annoyed voice, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as another cop car suddenly pulled into the lot and Officer Hayes and two other uniformed officers got out and began getting vests out of the trunk. “Thank freaking God…”

Officer Hayes sighed anxiously as he hurried over to his partner and tossed him a vest, which Officer Garner immediately put on, “Really, Mister Whitaker?” Officer Hayes asked in a quiet, but anxious voice, quickly noticing Whitaker and Santos there. “Really, Doctor Santos? You two again?!”

Santos and Whitaker both shrugged, “SWAT’s still mobilizing, and we’ve been advised to proceed with caution and assess from a distance,” Officer Hayes explained in a grim voice. “We don’t engage unless…”

Another shot suddenly fired out and Officer Hayes drew his gun, “Let’s proceed with caution,” he spoke in a grim, but commanding voice. “Santos, Whitaker, stay behind us and do not proceed until we give you permission.”

Santos and Whitaker nodded and the group slowly made their way away from the squad cars and towards the shelter area, quickly getting off the road and taking refuge in a nearby grove of trees so they could assess everything before making decisions. To their horror, at least 20 people were laying scattered all over patches of bloodstained grass with various gunshot injuries and some were crying, some were even trying their best to move, and some were not moving at all. Toys, folding camp chairs, a broken plastic volleyball net, a volleyball, and horseshoes were also scattered all over the grass, and all of them stained with blood.

Suddenly, as the group was deciding what to do, they heard a soft giggle coming from the direction of the shelter, “Oh, my God, these brownies taste better than the crap we deal out on the corners every day,” someone spoke in an awed voice. “Abby, you gotta try one. I mean…they’re so good!”

“Where the hell is my list?”! Abby Langdon’s annoyed voice suddenly filled the air. “It wasn’t in the house when you went over there last night, was it? It wasn’t with Frank…not that the idiot would even know what it was…he just wanted me to sign those stupid papers! Where the hell could my list have gotten to? We need that list! We now have a place to cook thanks to the work we just did here, but we need the list so we know what we’re cooking and who it’s for… ”

Santos’s eyes suddenly went wide as she realized that Abby was looking for the list that had been on her kitchen table prior to the fire. She had taken the list with her and now it was in the hands of the police, Santos thought grimly, “…I literally set up a kitchen in the basement and told Frank to stay out of there and keep the kids out because it was my special space for cooking,” Abby continued to rant darkly. “Of course, he thought I meant baking, as we had an oven down there, so he got me baking supplies and wandered down there to set them up as a surprise for me. I had to beat him for hours to get him to promise to keep quiet about what he saw,” Abby’s voice filled the air again, her tone amused. “Although, I may have hit him hard enough in the head he might not even remember it all. I mean, that’s probably why he got that stupid dog with the vest, right?”

At least 20 people laying in the grass dead, dying, or bleeding to death, and all these stupid druggies are just hanging around the picnic shelter eating, laughing, and mocking Langdon. Santos thought darkly. Do they even care what they just did? Are they even aware…?

“Hey, someone’s in those trees,” a voice suddenly spoke in a concerned tone. “I told you I heard cop sirens! We should not have been screwing around eating this picnic crap when…”

The sound of guns cocking filled the air and Santos immediately grabbed hold of Whitaker from behind in a protective hug, nervous over how her friend was feeling right now because he was close to Langdon. Whitaker immediately accepted the embrace, but didn’t say anything because he was pissed off about what he was hearing about Frank and also scared about the situation.

And then the shooting started again, and Santos and Whitaker immediately dove to the grass still in each other’s arms, neither of them wanting to think about anything anymore except surviving.

The shooting lasted for what seemed like an eternity and all the while, Santos and Whitaker lay there in their hug, too afraid to move and silently praying to God that no bullets would hit them.

“We’re clear!” Officer Hayes suddenly shouted. “Doctor Santos! Mister Whitaker! We need you!”

Swallowing hard, Santos climbed off of Whitaker and slowly got to her feet, shaking with fear as she quickly checked herself over to make sure she hadn’t been shot, “Huckleberry, you okay?” she called out in an anxious voice, relieved to see there were no wounds on her.

Whitaker, however, didn’t respond and Santos looked up from her clothes and saw that the med=-student was already out of the bushes, anxiously swearing up a storm.

Concerned as to why Whitaker was suddenly acting so uncharacteristic, Santos emerged from the bushes and immediately saw why Whitaker had been swearing and where he was now: Whitaker was kneeling next to an injured individual in the picnic shelter while Officer Hayes stood nearby, capturing the whole moment on a bodycam that recorded both audio and video while holding a gun at the ready. Meanwhile, six other bodies lay around the shelter area, all of them either dead, dying, or heavily injured. Their guns had been kicked away from them

As Santos moved towards the shelter, she suddenly noticed a police officer lying motionless in the grass surrounded by a growing pool of blood and started to move towards him, but Officer Garner’s voice suddenly stilled her, “Officer Dutton’s gone, Doctor Santos,” he spoke grimly. “He took one in the head. SWAT is finally 15 minutes out. We told them they were a little late and that we needed ambulances. Wait…what the hell is that kid doing over there?”

Swallowing hard, Santos changed course back to Whitaker, “…Frank?” she heard Abby say in a pained, very weak voice. “Frank…honey…Frank…is that you?”

Santos and Officer Hayes watched with concern as Abby, who was bleeding from multiple wounds, suddenly lifted a shaking hand in the air. Whitaker swallowed hard, but he took the offered hand and exhaled nervously before he knelt down next to her so she could see him, “Yes…” Whitaker lied quietly, gazing down at Abby as he began to sweat. “Yes…it’s Frank.”

A weak, but cold chuckle suddenly filled the air and Abby offered a mocking smile to Whitaker, “I knew you could never leave me, Frank,” she spoke weakly, smiling at Whitaker as if she had achieved something wonderful by having him come to her side when she called him. “You’ll never leave me. Ever. No matter what I do or say to you. I want to hear you say it, Frank. Like you mean it.”

“I’ll never leave you,” Whitaker replied quietly, wincing as Abby’s other hand suddenly came up on the back of his head, pulling him down closer to her until the left side of his head was resting on her heavily bleeding chest. “I’ll never leave you.”

Abby sighed as she stroked the back of Whitaker’s hair, completely oblivious to the fact that she was quickly bleeding out and also completely oblivious to the fact that it was fourth-year medical student Dennis Whitaker, not Frank, that she was cuddling close to her heart and creating a hell for.

Santos wanted very much to go pull her friend away from that crazy woman, but before she could move, she suddenly felt a hand on her wrist, keeping her in place, “Do not move,” Officer Garner’s stern voice filled her ear. “If you move, things could go very bad very quickly…”

“…Frank, you’re so soft,” Abby spoke softly, smiling groggily as she continued to hold Whitaker against her bleeding chest. “And warm. Do you hear my heart, Frank? It beats only for you. You.”

Whitaker felt himself slowly growing nauseous from the unwanted and slightly violent contact, but he was prevented from losing control of his senses and vomiting because Abby suddenly pulled his head up by his hair. It hurt, but Whitaker did his best to mask his pain because he was very much aware of the fact that the dying Abby was in control of the situation, “Frank…” she whispered.

“Yes?” Whitaker asked in a quiet voice, well aware that Abby could do much worse to him if she wanted even though she was bleeding out fast.

The hand again came down on the back of his head, but Whitaker didn’t dare move or argue with it because he knew it had been dumb to check on Abby for Frank in an attempt to provide help or comfort to her because he knew Frank still cared for her and he was now paying for his stupidity.

All of a sudden, Whitaker felt his lips connect with Abby’s Langdon’s and he froze as she kissed him full on the lips, “We’ll always have each other, Frank,” Abby whispered softly, stroking his face. “Always.”

Santos grew nauseous as Abby began gently kissing Whitaker all over his face while chuckling, but she could also hear ambulance sirens and additional police sirens fast approaching and prayed they would get there soon and end this disgusting scene. Finally, after several minutes, Abby bit him sharply on the side of the neck, causing Whitaker to whimper in pain. Santos could hear Officer Garner readying his gun and could also see Officer Hayes readying his gun, but they were hesitating because they didn’t have a way to shoot Abby without hitting Whitaker too, as she had pulled Whitaker’s torso right on top of her and had him held in place by the back of his head, which was beginning to bleed because her nails were sharp.

Whitaker, meanwhile, was trembling heavily, soaked in Abby’s blood, and doing his best to remain composed even though he had been verbally abused, manhandled, and sexually assaulted by Abby, who thought she was saying bye to Frank. His neck was also bleeding from where Abby had bit him.

“Say it, Frankie,” Abby spoke in a weaker voice. “Promise me…that we’ll always have each other.”

Whitaker gagged, but composed himself, “I promise,” he whispered weakly.

“Promise…what…Frankie?” Abby asked in a more ragged, unsteady voice. “Please…please tell me.”

Whitaker exhaled softly, “I promise that we’ll always have each other,” he replied quietly. “I…mmph.”

Ragged, soft chuckles escaped Abby’s lips as she engaged in a lip lock with Whitaker while her hand moved down his neck and suddenly grabbed it from the back with her nails. Whitaker’s eyes widened and he screamed, but he couldn’t move away from her lips, so his screams were muffled. Suddenly, Abby’s eyes closed, and her body went limp while continuing to hold him in place.

Santos didn’t wait for the okay from Officer Garner: she immediately bolted over to Whitaker, pried Abby’s hand off of his neck, gently took hold of him, and gently lowered him to the ground. Whitaker’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing shakily, very pale, trembling uncontrollably, and his face, hands, and entire upper body were covered in blood. Oh God. Santos thought worriedly as she knelt down beside her roommate to try and see if he was conscious, “Hey…” she spoke softly.

“Officer Garner, I need you to run down to those ambulances and get paramedics here now!” Officer Hayes yelled, horrified and angry at what had just happened. “My God…!”

Whitaker, meanwhile, was vaguely aware of Santos trying to get his attention and also vaguely aware that he had been moved away from Abby Langdon, but his head was pounding mercilessly and his entire body was trembling with chills and nausea from what he had just experienced. Until that moment, he had never understood the agony that Frank had gone through, but now that he had been personally abused by Abby Langdon in her dying moments, he felt even closer to Frank because now he completely understood the hell and the manipulation the man had suffered…

“Huckleberry?”

Whitaker coughed, but he found himself unable to open his eyes, “Hi…” he whispered weakly, recognizing Santos’s voice as he lay there, struggling to keep darkness from swallowing him whole.

“How long til the tubes can come out of my lungs?” Robby suddenly heard Frank ask in a weak, but coherent voice.

Robby looked up from Frank’s chart, which he had been reviewing for possible ways to get Frank admitted in a safe place upstairs until he could figure out a safe place for Frank and his children to go. Frank was awake again and was holding his oxygen mask in his hand, but his hand wasn’t shaking anymore, and Oliver was asleep on the bed. Frank was also leaning heavily on his pillow, but he looked reasonably calmer. Sighing, Robby looked at the monitors and the output tanks for a few moments before looking back at Frank, who looked pale, but not as sweaty as before.

“Probably tomorrow,” Robby replied softly, taking the mask. “You wanna have the tube again?”

Frank sighed, “I need to start using my voice a little more since I only have the use of one arm,” he replied softly. “Yeah.”

Robby silently arranged the oxygen tube in Frank’s nose and Frank winced slightly, as his face hurt like hell, but accepted it, “I’m assuming…this…is some sort of Psych hold…among other things,” Frank spoke softly, his expression grim. “You haven’t left the room and you’re being clingy…”

“Um, we need to talk about some things,” Robby spoke in a gentle, but frank tone of voice as he looked at his friend. “I know your state of mind is not good right now. I saw the note you wrote and I very much remember what you screamed at me about being an addict…”

Frank sighed, but he didn’t deny anything, “I promise to personally help you deal with these demons, which is what all these horrible things you’re feeling are, when you are physically able to handle dealing with them,” Robby spoke in a gentle, but firm voice. “I’m not saying they don’t exist, because I believe they do. They exist to you, and I absolutely believe that they’re killing you and have profoundly affected your ability to live any sort of happy, safe life or do your job the way you want to. You’re just not in a good enough physical condition to address those demons yet. I need you to understand that. I’m going to do what I can to make sure you’re taken care of down here for however long you need to be…”

“I noticed that I’m still in The Pitt,” Frank interrupted softly, his expression grim as he processed all that Robby was telling him. “Let me guess…ICU wouldn’t take me?”

Robby sighed, “Officer Hayes said last night that you weren’t allowed to leave The Pitt and Gloria made me keep you here,” he replied in a pained voice. “I’m hoping today, though, I can find a reason to get you transferred to a safer area of the hospital…”

Frank, however, was no longer listening because he had heard noise and had caught sight of Officer Hayes and an anxious looking Santos coming into the ED following paramedics, who were pushing a gurney, “What…what’s going on out there?” he asked in a groggy voice, wincing as he tried to lift his head and neck to see better, only to have to return both to the pillow because movement of any kind hurt. “Robby, raise the bed…”

“Just lie still and stop moving your head and neck!” Robby ordered anxiously, wondering why Santos was suddenly back when she and Whitaker had been sent home earlier under police escort after Whitaker had helped the police raid Frank’s locker and then had spoken to the board.

Before Frank, who was suddenly feeling very uneasy and had closed his eyes to calm himself before Oliver alerted, McKay suddenly burst into the room and looked at Robby anxiously, figuring Frank was still asleep, “Doctor Robby, Doctor Abbot needs you,” she spoke in an anxious voice. “Paramedics, Santos, and Officer Hayes just brought in Whitaker from Valley Refuge Shelter in Riverview Park. He was held hostage and sexually assaulted by Abby Langdon as she was dying. Whitaker’s in shock and completely covered in blood. He’s asking for you and Doctor Langdon…”

Robby’s eyes widened in horror, “Excuse me?!” Frank suddenly replied in a horrified voice, his eyes popping open in an instant and widening to the size of saucers. “Wha…could…could you repeat that?!”

McKay’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she realized Frank was actually awake and had heard everything she had just told Robby about Whitaker and Abby, “Oh, my God, McKay!” Robby exploded, completely appalled at McKay’s lack of awareness. “Frank, I…I am so, so sorry…”

Frank Langdon, however, was no longer listening. Abby was dead and she had hurt Dennis on her way out, probably thinking Dennis was him. Oh, God. Frank thought grimly as he suddenly felt himself falling into a cold, dark freefall sensation. I should have ended it all when I planned to and then Abby wouldn’t have did what she did to Dennis. She wanted to remind me of my place as she was leaving this world and all she did was hurt the one friend that I had in this miserable world. I want to die. Just let me die already so people can get on with their lives…without me in it. They don't need me around to feck things up for them anymore. Oh, God. Oh, Dennis. I am so sorry. You're due to take your finals this month and now you get to deal with the crap I started involving you in back in September when we first met at the diner. Look at me what letting you help me led to!

Anxious yelling, barking, and a loud flatline sound were the last sounds Frank heard as he felt himself slowly slip into darkness.

Oh, God. Frank silently pled. Just let me die already. Please.

Chapter Text

“Doctor Robinavitch?”

Gloria’s stern voice cut through the air like a knife slicing through butter, but Robby ignored it as he finished attaching electrodes to Frank’s chest after fighting for nearly an hour to stabilize the man. After McKay had accidentally revealed Abby’s death to Frank rather tactlessly, Frank had promptly passed out, proceeded to crash, had required help from the crash cart, extra saline, and now had an oxygen mask on his face as well as a need for monitoring by a heart monitor.

“I’m a little busy, Gloria,” Robby finally replied irritably as he placed a fresh heated blanket over Frank’s torso in an attempt to raise his low blood pressure. “McKay busted in here and just blurted out that Frank’s wife died in the shooting at Riverview Park without even checking to see if Frank was awake or not! I don’t have any help from anyone because everyone’s taking care of the people brought in from the park and Whitaker…oh God, don’t even get me started on that…I’ve been running back and forth grabbing what I need once I got a rhythm back…”

Gloria frowned, “Did Doctor Langdon actually die?” she asked in a concerned voice.

“No, but it was close,” Robby replied anxiously. “Why did this have to happen now? We were starting to talk and making a bit of progress. I was finally starting to reach him…”

Gloria sighed grimly, “Speaking of talking, Doctor Santos wants to talk to you,” she spoke in an apologetic voice. “I can stay here with Doctor Langdon while you go talk to her. She’s sitting with Mister Whitaker in 13.”

A solemn expression filled Robby’s face as he wondered what exactly Abby Langdon had done to Dennis Whitaker before she had died and Gloria immediately gave him a look, catching on to what he was thinking, “Mister Whitaker wasn’t raped,” she spoke firmly. “He was not raped, Robby.”

Robby paused, but said nothing, hating that Gloria could read his mind, “However, what happened to Mister Whitaker does fit the textbook definition of sexual assault and if Abby Langdon had survived, she would be arrested and charged accordingly,” Gloria continued firmly. “Whitaker’s being kept under observation in 13 and Santos is there too. Take a breath before you go talk to Santos, Robby, as Mister Whitaker might be awake, and your anxiety won’t do him any good.”

Nodding, Robby silently composed himself before he silently left the room to see Santos.

“No, Whitaker wasn’t raped. I checked for that when Officer Hayes processed him. And then I went and got Whitaker some scrub pants so he’ll be more comfortable.”

“Thank God. Thank effing God. I…I know Dennis wanted to provide comfort to Abby Langdon as she died, but holy hell…she must have really wanted to stick it to Langdon before she died to do all that to Dennis…”

Whitaker desperately wanted to wake up and let everyone know he was alive, as he could hear people talking about him, but he still felt cloudy and sore from the park. His head felt sore, his neck was killing him, his back ached profusely, and his mind was foggy, but also blown away. At the same time, though, he could feel Santos’s hand in his and he could also hear Dr. Abbot talking and he felt comforted by that because it meant he wasn’t at the park anymore. He was obviously out of that hell and safe in The Pitt...with people who cared about him.

More footsteps, however, suddenly approached and Whitaker immediately felt himself tensing up involuntarily to the point where he was even squeezing Santos’s hand as tightly as he could.

“Whoa, Doctor Robby…Dennis is squeezing my hand really tightly all of a sudden!”

“Oh, crap, his heart rate just jumped…Dennis? Dennis…Dennis, it’s Doctor Robby. Dennis, can you hear me?”

Whitaker’s eyes flew open as he suddenly felt someone touch his neck and he suddenly jerked his hand out of Santos’s and tried to fight his way off the gurney, but he quickly felt pain shoot through his body, pain that made him lie back and exhale weakly without making a sound. He suddenly felt tears spill from his eyes, but he didn’t dare make any noise. He simply closed his eyes again.

Wide-eyed, Santos immediately placed a hand over her mouth, looking ready to cry, “I…I was just checking his pulse,” Robby stammered, wide-eyed. “I thought he was waking up. Holy…”

“It’s not your fault or anyone’s,” Dr. Abbot replied grimly, quickly placing a mask over Whitaker’s face so he could breathe a little better. “Sexual assault cases…they’re tricky. Dennis might have wanted to wake up, but he wasn’t ready to wake up. His mind and body…they’re not on the same page yet and that’s why you got the reaction you got when you tried to check his pulse. I might actually give him a little medicine to make him sleep for a while so I can patch up that bite on his neck and the spot on the back of his head where he was grabbed without triggering another upset. They're both bleeding and might need a stitch or two, but I don't want him attacking me by accident while I'm trying to patch him up. In fact, I probably will give him a little sedative. He could use a quiet rest. Poor kid.”

Robby quickly motioned to Santos, who moved over to him, “Outside,” he whispered softly.

Santos nodded and followed Robby out of the room, “Does Dennis have any family that the hospital can call?” Robby asked softly. “Gloria said Dennis wanted to see me and Doctor Langdon., but…when did he say that?”

“Dennis’s family is in Nebraska and…they can’t afford to go anywhere,” Santos replied nervously, remembering what Whitaker had confided in her. “They run a farm, but they don’t have any money to spare. I don’t think there’s a point in phoning them and worrying them. His stuff is at my place, though, so I can bring him stuff if he’s gotta stay. Langdon and him obviously spent a lot of time together, though, so maybe…maybe…I thought Langdon might be of help to him…”

Robby sighed heavily, realizing Santos had made it up about Whitaker asking for Langdon because she knew of Whitaker and Langdon's closeness, “McKay accidentally told me about Abby Langdon where Frank was able to overhear it and he passed out and promptly crashed an hour ago,” he explained grimly. “I got him back and he’s currently stable, but I do not think it’s a good idea to…”

“Langdon crashed?!” Santos interrupted in a confused, slightly scared voice. “Like…he almost died?!”

Robby nodded and exhaled tiredly, frowning when he suddenly saw Dana hurry through the doors of the ED dressed for work and carrying a large fabric bag on her arm, “Dana,” Robby spoke in an anxious voice, quickly moving over to her and leaving Santos behind. “What…?”

“I was getting breakfast for Tanner and Maria and my husband when I got the disaster response page,” Dana explained anxiously. “We finished up quick and I told my husband to just keep the kids inside the house with the door locked while I came here. What happened?”

Robby sighed grimly, “From what the police can gather, there was some sort of family thing happening at the Valley Refuge Shelter in Riverview Park that was interrupted by armed drug dealers looking for an isolated spot to cook their drugs,” he explained grimly, recalling what Officer Hayes had told him an hour before when Whitaker had been rushed in. “There were seven dealers with handguns and they…”

“Drug dealers?!” Dana interrupted nervously, shaking her head in disbelief as she began to quickly connect the dots in her head. “Robby…please, please don’t tell me…”

Robby lowered his head and exhaled, “Abby Langdon was among the fatalities,” he replied in a shaky voice. “And McKay…she blurted it out right in front of Frank. He almost crashed from shock, but I got him back.”

“You should get Whitaker to sit with him,” Dana spoke anxiously, frowning when Robby suddenly shook his head. “They’re close…what?”

Robby sighed, “Um, Santos and Whitaker were at the park with the officers that first responded to the scene because they were being driven home by Officers Hayes and Garner when the call went out,” he explained in a shaky voice. “Whitaker went to comfort Abby, apparently, as he saw her injured and thought it might help, but she…assaulted him…sexually because she thought Whitaker was Frank. Whitaker’s being looked after by Jack right now and it’s best to leave them alone. Santos and everyone else…they’re waiting for people to be brought in from the park. I guess SWAT showed up just after paramedics took Whitaker and it’s just been a painfully slow process…”

Sirens suddenly filled the air, “Um, my husband and I got some stuff together for Doctor Langdon,” Dana spoke shakily. “I’ll leave these in with him and then I’ll get to work. Is he still where he was last night?”

“Officer Hayes made sure of that,” Robby growled darkly before he sighed tiredly. “Gloria’s with him til I can get back. I’ll walk you there. I need to check on him anyway.”

To Robby’s surprise, when he and Dana approached the room where Frank was, he saw that Frank was back awake, although he had no idea how the man had managed to revive himself so quickly. Frank, meanwhile, was sporting a solemn expression on his face, and having a quiet conversation with Gloria while the oxygen mask lay on the bed. Gloria, meanwhile, was sitting by the bed listening thoughtfully as Frank spoke to her. She was also holding the folder open in her hands where Frank could see it, but Robby could not see if Frank had signed or was signing the papers that would eventually allow him to return to work under strict conditions. Robby wondered what was going on, but at the same time, he didn’t want to interrupt whatever conversation Frank and Gloria were having. Robby was simply pleased Frank and Gloria seemed to be talking civilly.

After a few moments, Gloria removed a few brochures from the folder and closed the folder. She stood up and rested Frank’s uninjured hand, which had been out because Frank had woken up needing to pet Oliver while Robby had been out of the room, back atop Oliver’s head while placing the brochures on the portable table. As Gloria left the room, Frank silently looked up at the ceiling while stroking Oliver’s head. Robby wanted to ask Gloria whether or not Frank had signed the papers, but she walked away in a brisk silence before he could, so he simply decided to let the subject go for the moment.

Dana, meanwhile, quickly moved into the room and Robby decided to follow. He watched as Frank looked at Dana uncertainly for a moment before he sighed heavily, “I guess…I guess you’ve heard…about...Abby?” he spoke in a quiet, slightly wheezy voice. “I…I woke up...and Gloria...was here...”

Nodding, Dana quickly set the bag on the bed at Oliver’s feet and quickly got the oxygen tube off of the wall and put it in Frank’s nose before activating it. She then gently felt his forehead and face, “Oh, honey, you’re trembling,” she spoke in a concerned voice, truly worried about Frank’s lack of a response regarding the current situation. “Has someone been by to talk to you yet? A grief counselor?”

Frank shook his head slowly and promptly winced at the movement, “Um…my husband and I got some old clothes and things together for you cause I was told the cops are hanging on to your things from your storage locker for a few days,” Dana explained softly, turning her attention to the bag. “If you give me a little while to check on the situation, maybe I can help you brush your teeth and do your hair for you…”

“Um…I…I need to tell Tanner,” Frank replied shakily. “He needs to know. He’s old enough.”

Dana sighed, “Honey, you look like you haven’t even fully processed the news yet,” she commented gently. “I can help you talk to Tanner…later. Right now, you should just focus on resting and maybe getting something to eat. Have you eaten since you’ve been here? Or just had fluids?”

“Oh, I don’t even have an appetite right now even if I was allowed to eat,” Frank replied in a quiet, tired voice. “I might just go back to sleep for a bit, but I need to…I need to talk to you later…in private…if there’s such a thing as privacy here. I’m…tired and my head and neck’s hurting. I’ve just got the sensation of being dropped off a roof filling me and I think I need more sleep. I’m crazy…”

Dana gently stroked Frank’s face and Frank let her, “Oh, honey, no, you’re not crazy,” she spoke gently. “You’re grieving…slowly. What you’re feeling…it’s normal. Sleep if you want, but the feelings…you’re allowed them. Okay? Look…I should see what’s going on outside, but I’ll come back in a bit and help you with your teeth and hair, all right? Hang in there.”

Before Dana left, she gently gave Frank a kiss on the cheek and gently brushed his hair off of his forehead, “I’m not normal,” Frank muttered in a weak voice. “Normal people don’t grieve over their dead abusers. I’m supposed to be upset that she’s dead. I’m supposed to be mad about the fact that she hurt Dennis…I’m just sad…I’m sad…and I’m missing her. What…what is wrong with me?”

Frank scoffed and cursed quietly at his inadequacies as a person while stroking Oliver’s head. Unsure of what to say, as he didn’t know if anything he could say would actually help, Robby silently walked over to the bed and sat in the empty chair. Frank eyed him warily, unsure if he had the energy to tolerate any sort of conversation with Michael Rabinovitch at the moment. Robby, however, didn’t intend to force one because he could tell that Frank was spent, but quickly slipping into grief.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Robby replied softly. “I…I am so, so sorry, though, that all of this happened. I’m just gonna sit here with you and just be here. You can do or say whatever you like or you can just sleep…”

Almost immediately, Frank’s eyes closed because Frank really didn’t know what else to do except sleep simply because he had been responsible for even more hurt by allowing Dennis Whitaker access to a crumbling world that he should have been able to cope with on his own and now Dennis was lying in the ED with trauma because Abby had assaulted him. If I had just told Dennis to go away and leave me alone that day in the diner back in September, he wouldn’t be laying in The Pitt with the label of sexual assault victim slapped on him now. No, I had to be a little weakling, let myself be vulnerable, and allow Dennis to help me that day and also show him the locker! Dennis is due to get his match soon and I know that cause one of our last conversations was about how things were running behind with the matches, but I told him…I promised him…that he was gonna be fine wherever he ended up. What are my promises worth? Nothing. Because I involved Dennis in my life and I didn’t off myself right after my fight with Robby like I had originally planned to, Dennis is going to have to shoulder the pain of recovery from sexual assault instead of enjoying becoming a doctor! God, I screw everything up for everyone! I am so better off alone and dead and those are not good thoughts to have…they’re not, but I can’t tell Robby about my thoughts. He said my chest tubes are coming out tomorrow. That means tomorrow…I’ll probably be booted out of The Pitt too and out on the street. I’ll be homeless, but my kids won’t. I’m going to talk to Dana...see if she’ll let me extend the emergency foster care order with her for a while because I need time, like I told Gloria. I need time. I don’t feel good, I need help, and my time at The Pitt is just about up. God, maybe I should just do everyone a favor, drag my broken body up to the roof, and throw myself off. Most of the doctors go up there anyway and threaten to do that every single day. Maybe I should actually...go ahead and do it.

The door opened, “Um, Doctor Langdon, are you awake?” Mel’s soft voice suddenly filled the air as footsteps and the sound of squeaky wheels filled the air. “Dana…she’s busy with traumas, but she said you might like some help brushing your teeth and washing your hair? I used to do that kind of thing for people at the VA, so I offered to come and help you. I have some warm water. Dana said she brought you shampoo and a toothbrush and toothpaste and other stuff. Would you like…?”

Frank opened his eyes and saw that Mel was indeed standing by the bed with a portable shampoo basin, buckets, a pitcher, rubber gloves, a clean towel, and a cup on a cart, “Sure,” he replied quietly. “Um…just give me a sec…to try…and get up.”

Robby, however, quickly gloved up, stood, and moved around to the other side of the bed because he knew Frank would never be able to lift himself from his pillow with one arm in a sling and the other holding IV’s and a pulse-ox clip as well as broken ribs and his chest tubes and a skull fracture and a concussion. As much as he wanted to let Frank go at his own pace and do things for himself…

Frank suddenly felt himself being gently lifted away from the pillow and a strange sensation quickly surrounded his head before he felt lukewarm water suddenly being gently massaged into his hair. Just trying to look up at Robby and Mel and see what exactly they were doing made Frank feel lightheaded, so he simply closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stroked Oliver’s fur. God, I’m tired. Frank thought as he lay there. And whatever Mel’s doing to my head is relaxing me and making me even more tired, but it feels good. I should have asked her to help me with this sooner…

Robby, meanwhile, retrieved the shampoo from the bag Dana had left behind and was relieved to see that it was baby shampoo. Instead of commenting, however, Robby simply helped Mel wash Frank’s hair and gently towel it dry once his hair was completely clean. They then wrapped Frank’s hair in the other towel and rested Frank’s head back on the pillow. Frank, however, felt none of this because Mel’s constant, very gentle massage of his head had quickly lulled him into a deep sleep.

Mel smiled at that and silently chose that moment to leave the room and the supplies behind, electing to return to take care of Frank’s teeth later when the ED was less busy and when Frank was awake again. She had honestly not expected him to respond so well to having his hair washed, as she knew from talking to others that he was a victim of long-term abuse and was quite nervous about who approached him, but she was glad and grateful he had trusted her with something so intimate.

Pleased that Frank had let Mel wash his hair without getting uncomfortable or saying anything alarming, Robby silently moved Mel’s cart aside and sat back in his chair. He silently fetched Frank’s chart off of the table and began to go through it to see if there were any sort of loopholes that would allow him to keep Frank in the hospital after his chest tubes were out, as after they were out he knew the hospital would be pressing for Frank’s release even though the man had nowhere to go, using the excuse that Frank was taking up a bed that was sorely needed by others. In their eyes, Frank would be stable enough for release once the chest tubes were out, but Robby knew better: Frank was far from physically or mentally stable.

Plus, Robby thought grimly, Frank was now homeless, widowed, a survivor of abuse, known to the police because of things related to domestic violence and was now frightened of the police, had no caregiver to help him with tasks he would not be able to do himself in his current state, and had expressed suicidal ideations more than once both in action and in writing and was probably now even thinking ideations now that he knew what had happened between Abby and Whitaker.

Terfing an individual who was at risk to commit self-harm or suicide, had recently lost his spouse to a tragic death after learning that she had assaulted one of his friends, and only had limited use of his body due to injuries was basically sending that person to death, Robby knew, an uneasy feeling settling over his tired mind and heart. Frank’s employment status was also still uncertain, Robby knew, so the man basically had no medical insurance that he knew off, and the dealers who had robbed him had taken off with his cash and credit cards. On top of that, Robby thought grimly, Frank’s children were in a foster care situation and he had no way to be able to help them whenever he was in a good position to be able to take the responsibility of parenthood on again. The man was overwhelmed and very soon going to be battling a system that didn’t care. Robby knew the system didn’t care about Frank Langdon because he, Michael Rabinovich, had started the avalanche by throwing Frank into the street, causing him to run away, and triggering the situation that had almost resulted in Frank dying…more than once…at the hands of some very violent individuals.

Robby sure as hell felt responsible for Frank’s mess and he did not feel good about kicking Frank to the curb even when the hospital was ready for him to do that and so he was going to do everything he could to stall that day for as long as possible…if there was something he could actually do.

Chapter Text

By the time evening rolled around, Robby was pissed beyond pissed.

Frank had slept without any trouble after Mel had washed his hair. In fact, the man slept the day away and his vitals had improved considerably because his sleep was so peaceful. Oliver hadn’t alerted once and had even enjoyed food and water that Robby had managed to acquire for him.

And then the drain containers had suddenly stopped filling, and they had been emptied earlier, so Robby had ordered a portable chest x-ray and had gotten it done and run other tests to check Frank’s lungs while Frank continued to sleep because he didn’t want to create upset when there might not be cause for it. Unfortunately, he found out that the news was less than pleasant...as it meant they were one step closer to discussing the future and the possibility of discharge and Frank...was not ready.

The tubes had done their job and Frank’s lungs were strong enough to approach removing the tubes either that night or in the morning and Robby briefly considered not telling Frank and simply leaving things as they were to really make sure things were really okay, as he had told Frank they wouldn’t do anything til morning, but he knew he couldn’t do that. As a doctor, Frank would certainly have an opinion about things and as a patient, he had a right to know what was happening with his health.

Fighting the urge to tear up the x-ray and hide the pieces in a trashcan, Robby pulled it off the box, stuck it in the folder, and moved down the hallway to Frank’s room just in time to see Mateo enter the room pushing a medical cart that also held a gift bag and a small bouquet of plastic carnations that looked like they came from a dollar store. It was then that Robby noticed small bouquets of plastic dollar store flowers laying on surfaces all over the room with sympathy cards sitting next to them.  Amidst the cards and flowers also sat several tiny stuffed dogs, teddies, and other little gifts and Robby found himself where the nurses had found the time to organize and leave all of the gifts for Frank with the shooting at Riverview Park and all of the other things they had to address during their shifts. Dana’s gift bag had also been unpacked and the bag itself was folded neatly under the bed while the clothes had been folded neatly and set atop the desk next to the computer while the toiletries had been set up on a table near the window. There were also a bag of dog treats, a water bowl, and a dog blanket next to the toiletries that looked like they had been bought brand new.

“…My…the…room looks like the family playroom at DCFS when it opened again after the lockdown,” Robby suddenly heard Frank say in a groggy, slightly surprised voice. “Where…where did all this…?”

Robby moved into the room just in time to see Mateo offer a sad smile, “Everyone,” he explained in a solemn, but gentle voice. “The police and Dana have been telling everyone about your wife’s death all day. People are sad for you and your kids. They’re also taking up a collection of money cause Dana…she said your house burned down…”

All Frank did, however, was stare wordlessly at Mateo with an expression of pure confusion on his face because he didn’t know what to make of Mateo’s words, the kindness everyone had been offering, or the extra stuff in the room. Frank figured he didn’t deserve any kindness because of the harm he had brought to The Pitt and its people with his secret life and the harm he had allowed to come to Dennis Whitaker by allowing the younger man into that secret life.

Mateo, however, didn’t take offense to Frank’s silence because he figured the man was overwhelmed by his losses and tired from just waking up after his long nap. Instead of pressing Frank to engage, Mateo simply set his flowers next to the others and set the gift bag on the already crowded portable table, “Since you’re awake, you up for a vitals check?” he asked softly.

Frank nodded, promptly winced, and went quiet as Mateo checked his temperature and other vitals. Robby, however, was suddenly dwelling on Frank had said…something he had mentioned when talking to Mateo…specifically, the family playroom at the Department of Family and Children’s Services Building and how it had looked after the lockdown.

How would Frank know how that particular place looked unless he had taken his children there himself at some point during that time period? Robby thought to himself. Did he try to get out? Frank would have only had Tanner with him then because Oliver died in 2021 and the center wasn’t opened back up to the public yet, if I recall correctly…

“…You’re getting better, but you’re not quite there yet,” Mateo’s gentle voice suddenly filled the air. “You should, however, start thinking about drinking more fluids and trying to eat. No solids yet, but pureed, easy to swallow foods…”

Frank mumbled a quiet thank you and when Mateo had gone, Robby suddenly felt Frank’s eyes on him, “Let me guess, my lungs are getting better and we need to talk about the tubes coming out and my…my discharge,” Frank spoke grimly, hissing the last word out as if it were a bitter poison he knew he had to drink eventually.

“Things are looking better, but we’re just gonna wait and see on the tubes until tomorrow like we already discussed,” Robby replied softly as he sat back down next to the bed. “I, um, wanted to ask you about something else. Something you mentioned to Mateo. The DCFS family playroom?”

Frank suddenly stilled before sighing heavily, “Yeah…after it opened back up to the public in early 2022, DCFS, um, made this big announcement on the community Facebook pages that families could make appointments to bring their kids to play there,” he explained in a quiet voice. “Abby…she thought it was crap and forbade me from taking Tanner out, but I secretly made an appointment and took him there when she was ‘out.’  I was gonna talk to someone…a social worker…there that day, but I lost the courage to and then I caught hell when I got home, so I never tried it again. I sort of lied to Dennis…by the way…about how long the bad stuff was happening for. It started in 2021 right after I came home and found Oliver dead and Abby as high as a kite while Tanner napped in his crib. She choked me in angry grief and slammed me into the fridge while choking me and begged me to fix it, but I couldn’t. I got the locker after we cremated Oliver cause I didn’t wanna lose what I had of him, and she was just gonna toss it. I left the ashes at your place cause it was easier than leaving them in a locker where I might lose them. At least at your place, I knew he was safe. I knew Oliver was safe with you. You loved him as much as I did. When she started selling my stuff to get supplies, though, I pretty much moved my life into my locker. Abby didn’t notice or care what I did with my stuff as long as I followed her rules…and stayed out of her way when she wanted me to. That day…before the PittFest thing, I was looking at an album of photos of Abby and I with Oliver that I must have forgotten…I was holding the album while I was trying to get my hand to stop bleeding…Abby cut it with a knife after she refused to sign the papers. After you didn’t pick up, I just sort of sat there like a zombie and looked at that album til I was sent out again. I had to stay quiet…it kept Tanner and Maria safe. Abby didn’t care if I looked at the album as long as I was quiet…so I was quiet.”

Oh, God. Robby thought grimly, fighting the urge to react because he was so worried of reacting the wrong way and causing upset. Now Frank is making me wish even more that I had picked up the phone that night instead of being…

A growling noise suddenly filled the air and Frank’s eyes widened as he quickly stopped his rant, but Robby suddenly looked amused, “I…I think your body’s telling you it’s time to eat something,” Robby spoke in a quiet voice. “I know you may not want to…”

“Did you know Abby was begging me for another baby after I took Tanner to the playroom cause she got so scared I was gonna take Tanner and leave?” Frank suddenly spoke in a pained voice. “I was fine with just Tanner and I was not feeling good about Oliver’s death. I did not want another kid. It was not my decision to participate in the babymaking process. I love Maria to pieces, but…”

Robby’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Did you actually hurt your back moving your parents?” he asked in a concerned voice, truly afraid of what the answer might be.

“It was hurt before that,” Frank replied quietly, sighing. “Being forced into rough sex…that can hurt quite a bit…especially if it’s on a hard surface. Anyway, I…I don’t wanna to keep talking about that. My stomach…it’s making noises, and I could probably get up and walk to a vending machine with help…”

Robby scoffed and scowled at him as he gently removed the towel from around Frank’s head and rested Frank’s messy hair on the pillow, “You are far from ready to get up and start walking around,” he spoke firmly. “And a vending machine?! Seriously?! Mateo said liquids or pureed food because I put those orders on your chart myself. You’re a doctor, Frank…you know orders are written for a…”

Frank rolled his eyes, “How about a smoothie or a juice?” he asked hopefully, his voice quickly tiring as he offered Robby a pleading look. “I know it’s probably a bad idea, but…there’s a place down the street and it’s open late. I’m sorry, but that light cranberry thing you gave me…it sucked.”

Robby couldn’t resist Frank’s pleading gaze, “Only if we split it and you sleep while I’m gone,” he spoke firmly. “And we’ll talk about your chest tubes and the rest of your recovery tomorrow…”

Sighing, Frank offered a slow nod and closed his eyes. Making a mental note to stop by the desk on his way out to get someone to sit with Frank, Robby got up and left the room so Frank could sleep.

Frank, however, had no intention of staying put. Dennis getting hurt by Abby in her dying moments had absolutely made him hit his breaking point. He had stayed quiet about his earlier suicidal thoughts and had pretended to be at peace so everyone would back off and they had for a while, but then he had woken to find his room full of flowers and sympathy cards and gifts and love that he absolutely did not deserve. He needed love desperately, but his behavior: his lying, his endangering others with his lies and his need for attention, his stealing the meds, his inability to keep his domestic violence situation within the confines of his home, and everything that had happened to the people in The Pitt, the people at Riverview Park, and to Dennis Whitaker because of that…

I’m done. Frank thought darkly, wincing as he clumsily sat up, quickly turned off his machines, and looked at Oliver. I’m just done. I’m going to drag myself up to that roof and throw myself off…tonight.

“Hey, boy, wanna go for a walk?” Frank asked in a soft, but trembling voice, fully intending to leave Oliver’s leash at the desk before he made his way upstairs to the roof because he knew someone would make sure Oliver got to Tanner and Maria after he was gone. “Yeah…we’ll go for a nice…a nice little walk.”

Oliver raised his look, but he eyed Frank suspiciously because he could tell something was not right with his master, “Ollie, please…” Frank pled in a softer tone, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice so Oliver would feel comfortable obeying his commands. “Let’s…let’s go for a walk.”

After a moment of hesitation, Oliver slowly jumped off of the bed and looked up at Frank expectantly, “Thank you, Oliver,” Frank whispered in a shaky voice as tears filled his eyes, both tears of sorrow and tears of pain because his healing chest was suddenly hurting. “Thank you.”

Not wanting Oliver to pick up on his ever-increasing anxiety and alert someone who could stop him before he had a chance to carry out his plan, Frank took a breath and got to work preparing himself to leave. It would be physically hard for him to get up to the roof, but he was determined to do it.

Silence greeted Whitaker as he woke up and found himself staring up at a darkened ceiling. He immediately tried to lift his head and neck to look around and pain quickly shot through his entire body that was severe enough for him to let out a gasp.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Whitaker suddenly heard the soft voice of Dr. Abbot in his ear. “You’re all right.”

Whitaker blinked, “Where…where am I?” he asked in a confused, groggy voice. “My head…and my neck…and my back.”

“You got some bad bruises and stitches in the back of your head and on the side of your neck, so you probably shouldn’t move those yet,” Dr. Abbot’s gentle voice filled the air. “You also tweaked your back a little. Do you want me to raise the bed a bit?”

Whitaker exhaled, “Yeah,” he replied weakly. “Laying flat like this…it’s…it’s not comfortable. It’s…it’s putting me back there…in the park.”

Within seconds, Whitaker felt the bed being raised and sighed when he realized he was laying on his side and staring at Dr. Abbot, who was resting his arms on the bedrail and sporting a gentle expression on his face, “Hey,” Dr. Abbot spoke gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Whitaker replied softly. “And…everything hurts. My body…and mind…feel…overloaded.”

Dr. Abbot nodded, “You’ll be spending the night with us and speaking to Psych in the morning,” he replied patiently. “Gloria’s also got your match letter for you…when you’re ready…”

“How’s Frank?” Whitaker asked softly. “I mean…does he know his wife died? Has someone…has someone talked to him? It feels wrong if they…if they don’t…”

Dr. Abbot blinked, deeply surprised that Whitaker wasn’t even worried about himself, but was instead worried about Langdon and whether or not the man had been given grief counseling. Those two, Langdon and Whitaker, must really have some sort of brotherly dependency on each other. Dr. Abbot thought to himself as he sat there, trying to figure out what reply he could safely offer.

Suddenly, the door opened and Santos came in carrying a duffel bag, “Hey there, Huckleberry,” she spoke in a warm voice, offering Whitaker and Dr. Abbot a smile as she came over to the bed with the bag. “I brought you some stuff for tonight. I actually got put on the schedule for tonight, so I’ll look in on you when I can…”

“Thanks,” Whitaker replied softly, considering asking her to look in on Frank, but quickly thinking better of it because he knew they didn’t like each other. “Um…I’m starting to feel sleepy again.”

Nodding, Dr. Abbot patted Whitaker’s hand, “I’m gonna do some quick rounds and come back, but there’s a cop stationed outside the door if you need anything,” he spoke softly. “Get some sleep.”

“Get some sleep, Huckleberry,” Santos spoke softly, smiling at him as she set the bag on the bed.

As Whitaker drifted off, Santos and Dr. Abbot silently left the room in silence so not to wake him.

The moment they closed the door, however, their ears were filled with barking and panicked talking, and they turned their attention to it just in time to see a pissed off looking Officer Hayes walk past them over to the desk where a gaggle of nurses were gathered around an anxious looking Dana and Mateo. Dana was holding Oliver’s leash and looking absolutely pained as Oliver barked relentlessly.

“Doctor Abbot, Doctor Santos!” Mateo called out, suddenly spotting the two. “Doctor Robby wanted to get Doctor Langdon something from a nearby smoothie shop, so he asked Dana to sit with Doctor Langdon so he’d feel safe and cared about, but when she got there…she found Doctor Langdon gone and Oliver barking. The chest tube drains and Langdon’s IV stand are gone too…”

Santos’s eyes widened and Dr. Abbot suddenly closed his eyes, deeply pained because he realized that Langdon had probably snuck off to hurt himself out of guilt over his wife’s death, his wife’s problems, the attack on Whitaker, or he had simply become overwhelmed by the situation he had been trapped in before Abby Langdon had been killed. Robby, Jack knew, had been working very, very hard to get Psych, Social Services, someone…anyone…to talk to Langdon in an attempt to help him out of his mental darkness, but Psych had treated Langdon as if he were some sort of leper instead.

“I need some air,” Santos suddenly spoke in an uneasy voice, suddenly feeling heartsick about the whole thing.

Dr. Abbot quickly opened his eyes to stop her, as Langdon’s sudden disappearance from his room was a crisis situation that required a special response, but Santos had already gone outside.

Sweat was pouring down Frank Langdon’s entire body as he slowly made his way out into the cold night and across the quiet ambulance bay, away from the hospital that had been overwhelming him for days. It was chilly and he was cold even though he was sweating, but he didn’t care.

I won’t feel anything soon. Frank thought bitterly to himself. I hate that the elevators to the roof were too far for me to walk. I guess I won’t be able to put on a nice little show for the hospital after all, but I don’t care. Everything hurts right now. And I mean everything. I’ll just walk until I pass out or maybe wander into the street and let myself just get hit by a car. I don’t give a crap anymore. It’s cold and I’m…I’m done. My kids are safe and Oliver is safe. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep…forever.

Unknown to Frank, however, Santos had been coming out for air in the bay and had caught sight of him slowly making his way across the ambulance bay towards the nearby street with his head down, his arm clinging to his chest tube drains and IV pole like they were his last treasures on earth, and steps that were slow, unsteady, and seemed very painful in sock feet. Frank was also sweating, shivering, and she could hear shaky sniffling coming from him too. Swallowing hard, Santos slowly began to follow him because as much as she and Langdon didn’t get along, she did not want him to hurt himself and he seemed bound and determined to do exactly that…

What Santos did not know, however, was that Robby was heading back towards the hospital at the exact same moment because he had forgotten his wallet in his locker and he was choosing to come back via the ambulance bay because it was a faster route to and from the smoothie shop.

As Robby approached, however, he suddenly froze in his tracks because he saw a shivering, crying Frank slowly, but surely making his way across the ambulance bay and towards the nearby very busy street with one arm wrapped around his IV pole, which also held his chest tube drains, and nothing to keep him warm except a flimsy gown, thin scrub pants, and socks. From where he was standing, Robby could see utter despair in Frank’s eyes, and it seemed like the man was broken and exhausted with life in general. To his surprise, he could also see Santos trailing Frank, but not really looking like she knew what else to do besides follow him. Swallowing hard, Robby kept moving closer to Frank and cupped his hands around his mouth because as much as he didn’t want to yell, he would have to do it to at least get Frank’s attention because Frank looked totally out of it.

“FRANK!”

Robby’s concerned yell hit Frank like a swarm of buzzing bees slamming right into his body and he suddenly closed his eyes as he began to sway, wondering if Abby was calling him again. She always calls at the most inconvenient times. Frank thought to himself as he suddenly felt himself in freefall. Especially when I had just finished screaming at Robby about cartoon animals in Peds and he just left me there…with only one option left. I was going to run off and kill myself when she called…

“Did you get them, Frank?” Abby’s cold voice suddenly filled his head as a loud snap echoed through the night, a sound that Frank was painfully familiar with. “Did you?! Of course you didn’t get them, you weakling…I suspected you’d fail, Frank…You failed…You failed me, Frank…”

A gentle hand suddenly patted his face, but Frank didn’t dare open his eyes, “Frank!” he suddenly heard Robby say in an anxious, pained voice that almost sounded like he was speaking through tears. “Oh, God. Oh, Frank…God… you’re drenched in sweat and you’re absolutely freezing! What…what the hell are you even doing out here?! I told you I’d be right back…and I forgot my wallet and I come back just in time to see you heading towards the street! The street’s full of traffic…”

“The roof was too far away,” Frank allowed himself to mumble. “I…I couldn’t jump off the roof…I wanted to, but...it was too far for me to walk...”

There was silence and Frank suddenly felt a hand gently stroking his hair for a brief moment before a pair of arms suddenly went over his torso and held him in place with a gentle hold.

Stunned speechless by Frank’s admission that he had wanted to jump off the roof, but hadn’t been physically able to make it there and had instead chosen to leave the hospital and wander off in the direction of traffic in the dark of night in hopes of being hit by a car, Robby simply held Frank semi-conscious form on top of him, grateful that he had caught Frank before the man had hit the ground. Santos, meanwhile, had seen the fall, Robby’s catch, and had hurried inside to get some help, absolutely horrified by the situation. He was horrified beyond belief about the situation, and even if it took a while for Santos to mobilize some help, he was willing to sit with Frank and hold him and care for him for as long as it was necessary simply because he was grateful that he had stopped Frank from taking his own life. He had tried to get someone else...anyone else...to hear Frank's cries for help ever since he had heard them himself, but they had gone unheard and Robby felt deeply relieved that he had at least been open to listening this time...because his open mind had saved Frank's life. 

I answered your call this time, Frank. Robby thought anxiously as he sat there in the bay, silently holding the semi-conscious Frank like he was a priceless treasure that could not be replaced. I answered your call for help this time.

Chapter Text

“…How’s our little phoenix doing?”

“…What the hell is a phoenix?”

“…You gotta read fantasy books, man…they’re something my therapist recommended to me to help me wind down after a rough shift since I don’t respond well to meds…”

A tired sigh filled the air, “Well…Frank pulled a couple chest tube stitches in the fall, which I have since fixed and he built up some stuff in his lungs being outside, so the tubes will not be coming out tomorrow. Oh…he also broke his left ankle when he fell. On top of that, I screamed at Psych until I was blue in the face, and they authorized a 302, but they have no beds upstairs, so he’s gonna stay here and they’ll…hopefully…send someone to talk to him later in the morning and see what the hell he was thinking...”

“Gloria’s holding a department meeting to talk about the situation and the 302, as we're gonna be responsible for seeing him through it. Are you going?”

Pain shot through Frank’s body as he slowly came to and heard a scoff, “No, because one of the conditions that Psych set for authorizing the hold is that he have a doctor directly oversee him for the next 72 hours and since I’m the one who was there when he fell…I'm it.”

I fell? Frank thought groggily as he slowly began to feel around for Oliver with his free hand, but couldn’t find him. Where’s Oliver? Did I die? Am I in hell?

“Hey, Phoenix, are you with us?” Frank suddenly heard Dr. Abbot ask in a quiet voice.

What the hell is a phoenix? Frank wondered as he tried to speak, but couldn’t because he felt something over his mouth. I…I remember seeing the term in one of the books at the playroom at DCFS cause all I did there was sit in a corner and read books to Tanner…isn’t that some sort of bird?

As Frank tried to lift his uninjured hand to take the mask off his face, he suddenly felt something around his wrist that was holding it down. What the hell? Frank thought worriedly. Why can’t I…?

The mask was suddenly lifted off of his face and replaced with a nose tube, “You’re on a 302 for the next 72 hours, Frank,” Robby spoke in a solemn voice. “That means your hand is in a restraint unless Oliver is with you, and you do not get out of bed without permission and direct supervision. It might be hard for you to walk anyway, seeing as your left ankle’s broken and in a boot cast…”

Oh. Frank realized grimly, quickly realizing that his little attempt to leave and disappear had obviously not gone as planned. Robby…he remembered…Robby had been holding him outside, had caught him when he was falling, and had obviously acted very quickly to make sure he stayed alive.

Closing his eyes, Frank exhaled deeply. Of course I’m on a 5150 hold. He thought grimly to himself. I…I remember telling Robby that I wanted to jump off the roof, but it was too far away and then he saw me trying to get to the road and I admitted... Oh, God. I’ve hit rock bottom. This is worse than what happened with…

No. Frank thought anxiously. I can’t say her name. She’s dead, but she’s still very much alive to me and the pain she caused is still so real. I…I need time to sort myself out. If they ever let me talk to Dana, I’m gonna see if she’ll let me extend Tanner and Maria’s stay in her care and I’ll even temporarily surrender custody if I have to. I can’t take care of them right now. I can’t. It’s going to kill me to be away from them, but I am not capable of caring for anyone right now, especially myself…

“Hey, Phoenix, you okay?” Frank suddenly heard Dr. Abbot ask softly. “Robby…he’s crying…”

Still wondering what the hell a phoenix was, Frank opened his eyes, “Robby…I need to talk to Dana about…about extending Tanner and Maria’s stay in her care,” he spoke shakily as he paused his tears, deciding to get the important stuff out of the way before he lost his nerve. “If she says no, DCFS is gonna take em and shove em in some germ-filled group home where they won’t get any individual attention, and they might not even get to stay together. Please, Robby…don’t say anything. Just go get Dana. Or call her. Please. We need to have this conversation now. Right now.”

Robby, however, opened his mouth to reply, but Frank closed his eyes and began a whole new round of crying silently, crying so hard that his entire body quaked, but he quickly closed his mouth so he wouldn’t make noise, “Hey, Phoenix, you can’t hold your breath…” Dr. Abbot spoke softly.

Exhaling anxiously, Robby silently left the room to see if Dana was still around or if he had to call her, trusting that Dr. Abbot would stay and either watch Frank or talk to him for the time being.

“I’m sure by now, the entire hospital has heard of Doctor Langdon’s little venture outside or they will in the next few hours,” Gloria spoke in a solemn voice as she stood at the admit desk surrounded by many of the ED staff that were on duty or that she had been able to call in for an emergency meeting since being called and notified of Dr. Langdon’s escape and suicide attempt several hours earlier. “Psych was notified and Doctor Langdon is currently on a 302 hold, but Doctor Langdon will be treated down here due to Psych’s lack of available beds. His care will be overseen by Doctor Robinavitch, but anyone and everyone is encouraged to provide assistance where asked, but only if they wish to. I encourage you all, however, to show compassion to Doctor Langdon given the circumstances he has had to deal with over the last few days. The 302 hold does not make Doctor Langdon a bad or a dangerous person. Doctor Langdon’s circumstances and his feelings about everything simply overwhelmed him. The hold is simply there to give the hospital an opportunity to help him in ways he is unable to help himself…”

Gloria continued to speak words encouraging the staff to show compassion to Doctor Langdon and also updating everyone on what circumstances had led Doctor Langdon to act, as this was now an issue that affected both the ED and Psych, but Robby couldn’t hear her because he was silently assessing everyone’s reactions to the situation so he could see if there were going to be any problems with what the next 72 hours were going to be like and also seeing if he could find Dana.

Just as Robby was getting ready to get on the phone and call Dana’s house, he suddenly saw Dana walk in with a whimpering Oliver on a leash and Kiara and Officer Hayes by her side, “Robby,” Dana spoke anxiously. “The police and the hospital social worker came and made me talk to them away from everyone else. I have no idea what…”

“Frank needs to talk to you about something,” Robby interrupted in a quiet, but firm voice. “He is not in a good headspace right now and I would rather this conversation between you and him wait until later, but he’s freaking out about his kids and all but ordered me to come find you. He’s crying…”

Dana sighed grimly as she nodded, “Kiara and I have already been discussing it,” she explained in an anxious voice. “Frank is not stupid, Robby. He knows what a 5150 means in terms of his ability to take care of his children. I’ve already told Kiara that she can tell DCFS and Gloria that my husband and I will take care of Tanner and Maria Langdon for at least the next 30 days because Frank is getting help for PTSD that came about because of what he’s been through. And that you ordered a 5150 so Frank can be protected from any remnants of what happened today…and also from what happened to him in the last few years, as he has physical injuries and mental trauma from his assault, domestic violence, and widower’s grief that he needs to address, but he is not a danger to his children in any way. He just needs time and space for his own personal recovery. It’s all being taken care of in a way that won’t be permanent or involve the courts. Now, can I please go give Oliver back to Frank so he can be let out of that godawful hand restraint? Oliver’s very anxious without him…”

As much as he personally wanted to really go into depth with Dana about what exactly Frank had said to him outside, Robby knew that Officer Hayes and Kiara were listening in and him saying anything to the contrary of what Dana had arranged might prove disruptive. Swallowing hard, Robby nodded and watched Dana leave and then watched as the meeting at the desk broke up soon after.

Almost immediately, Robby noticed Officer Hayes and Kiara talking to each other and looking in his direction as if they wanted to have a conversation with him, but he didn’t have the energy or desire for that at the moment, so he quickly made a beeline back to Frank’s room in subdued silence.

“…I don’t want you to worry about anything, Frank,” Dana was saying in a gentle voice as Robby entered the room. “The staff had to be made aware of what happened, as a lot of them helped Robby bring you in from outside, but they’re being reminded to show compassion and be there for you. Everyone here gets that you’ve been through a lot in the last few days…”

Frank sighed tiredly, his hand now shakily stroking Oliver’s head instead of being secured in the restraint. He could feel that his uninjured foot was also in a restraint, but he truly didn’t care at the moment. He was tired and just wanted to rest and now that he knew his kids would be in a place where they would be safe and well-cared for, he could. Even though he didn’t want to appear rude, Frank was very much becoming overwhelmed by Dr. Abbot, Dana, and Robby crowding his room, and so he closed his eyes and rested his hand atop Oliver’s head to make it seem like he was sleeping so everyone would go away and leave him in peace. What he heard next, however…

“Robby, why don’t you crash for a few hours and I’ll sit with our young colleague here?” Frank heard Dr. Abbot say softly. “Santos is looking after my patients and if she comes needing me, I’ll wake you.”

Frank suddenly heard Robby yawn and the sound of a nearby gurney squeaking, “I’m just gonna crash right here,” Robby’s voice spoke in a tired tone. “Frank’s my friend and he’s hurting. I’ll stay nearby, but I need some sleep before I start helping him again. Wake me at 6 if I’m not already...”

Oh, God. Frank thought, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and slightly suffocated. They don’t get it. They don’t get that I am tired of being everyone’s problem and that me letting people into my world caused bad things to happen. I tried to end it so I could stop being everyone’s problem. I can’t even tell them that Oliver’s death…no, it’s too much to even think about that cause if I start thinking about it, it’s gonna come out that Abby was jealous as hell that Oliver seemed to connect better with Robby and I then he ever did with her. She even thought Robby and I were having some sort of affair because he was always around me even when I wasn’t working, and that may have been why she killed…No. I cannot even bring myself to think about that. Robby…he cannot ever know about the fights Abby and I used to have about him always doing wellness checks on Oliver cause I asked him to once kids were allowed outside. It was bad enough that she would freak out on me when Robby was just helping me with chats on the phone or sitting with me in the park near our house with coffee after work cause I just needed a friend and the stress of COVID was beating the hell out of me... No. I can’t think about that or about Dennis. God, I hope Dennis is okay and is able to move on to wherever he matches…

“Hey there, Phoenix,” Frank suddenly heard Dr. Abbot speak softly. “Oliver’s trying to get your attention and your monitor’s doing some funny things. Do you wanna wake up for a sec so I can check you out? I’ll be gentle…”

Exhaling weakly, Frank opened his eyes, “What’s a phoenix?” he asked groggily, forcing his hand to move around gently on Oliver’s head so Oliver would settle down. “Isn’t that a bird?”

Dr. Abbot offered a sad smile, but paused when he suddenly noticed that Frank looking nervously across the room at the gurney where Robby was cuddled up in a ball, snoring softly. It’s almost like Frank wants to talk, but he’s being careful about what he says cause he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He’s utterly terrified to cause hurt...especially to Robby. Dr. Abbot realized. Something happened that involved him and Robby, something that Robby might not even be aware of, and it must have been something bad. It may have even been why Frank did what he did tonight. Oh, God, he’s crying again. What in the hell is going on that poor kid's mind?

Exhaling softly, Dr. Abbot promptly cleared his mind and turned his attention to the medical cart and got the thermometer out, “A phoenix is a bird,” he explained gently, recalling what he had read about phoenixes as he turned the thermometer on and got it in Frank’s mouth. “The phoenix is a legendary immortal bird that cyclically regenerates or is otherwise born again. It regenerates from ashes. Sometimes…people get to the point where they completely disintegrate into flames and there’s nothing left of them except a mess of ashes cause life just gets to be too much for them to be able to bear. They’re not dead, but they’re not whole either. They’re a bit of a mess for a while like a phoenix is when it burns up, but people…like phoenixes…can be reborn. Right now, you're a burning phoenix and crumbling to ashes pretty fast, but from ashes comes beauty and new life...if it's given a chance to.”

The thermometer beeped and Dr. Abbot took it, sighing when he saw that Frank’s body temperature was slightly off, “I hope this isn’t some little patronizing speech about how I need God,” Frank mumbled groggily, suddenly feeling tired. “I pretty much gave up on God when Oliver was killed…”

A look of horror filled Dr. Abbot’s face and he couldn’t hide it, “Wait, Oliver was killed?!” he asked softly in a slightly raised voice that caused Robby to stir because he was worried about why Frank was yelling. “You told everyone here that Oliver died in his sleep. Oliver was killed?!”

“Well, I guess I’m just a bigger liar than anyone thought,” Frank replied darkly, suddenly feeling pains in his chest and head as he fought to keep himself from flashbacks of that brutal day and suddenly angry that he had let that secret slip. “Yes. Oliver was killed. He was killed one day in early 2021 when I was at work, and I came home to find him beaten to death and Abby high as a kite and angry hysterical. We are…we are absolutely not having this discussion. I…I’m tired.”

Tears filled Frank’s eyes and he suddenly let out a hiss of pain as the pain in his chest and head increased tenfold. Oliver whined loudly, but Frank ignored him and tried to arch his back in an attempt to relieve his pain, but he couldn’t move. The monitor then went haywire.

“My chest…my head…gonna explode,” Frank managed to breathe shakily. “Heart…attack?”

Frantic talking, both Dr. Abbot’s and Robby’s, suddenly filled the air alongside Oliver’s barking and Frank desperately wanted to pull himself out of his pain and say he was fine, but he couldn’t…his body wouldn’t let him. His body felt like lead and his head felt cloudy…was he dying?

“…Frank?" Frank suddenly heard Robby say in a worried, but gentle voice. "Frank, it’s Robby…we’re gonna take care of you…we’ve got you lying flat and we’ve got a mask on you. Can you try to take a breath?”

A weak wooshing sound suddenly filled the air and Frank suddenly felt the restraint come off his good ankle, “What’s going on?” another voice suddenly called out as the door opened.

Frank suddenly tensed at the extra people in the room, as he already felt exposed and vulnerable enough, and the voices began to blur together to the point where he thought he was going to pass out, but then he felt a gentle hand stroking his hair, “…Just keep taking breaths into the mask,” he heard Robby say softly. “You’re doing great. You’re almost out of the woods…there we go…”

I need to sleep. Frank thought as he quickly felt exhaustion pulling him under. Sleep sounds amazing right now. I can maybe deal with what I blurted out to Dr. Abbot…after I sleep…

The sound of his own weak, but very present breaths was the last sound Frank heard as he drifted off into oblivion.

“You’re sure you heard him right?” Gloria asked grimly, giving Robby and Dr. Abbot a concerned look as she stood at the desk with Officer Hayes after the two attendings had come to her to share what Frank had blurted out.

Dr. Abbot sighed grimly, “I wish I hadn’t heard it, as I am sure he didn’t mean to share that, but I definitely heard it and I know that I gotta report it cause the law says I do,” he replied in a grim tone. “I may have gotten a little freaked out and I accidentally woke Robby up while reacting…”

“And Frank had a panic attack, but he’s stable now and sleeping it off and Mateo’s sitting with him,” Robby commented grimly. “No wonder he wanted me to keep Oliver’s ashes at my place after he was cremated. To come home from a hard day at working in a chaotic hospital and find your kid beaten to death and your wife high as a kite and angry hysterical…that kind of thing would wreck anyone under normal circumstances, but to have it happen during COVID lockdowns when resources were stretched thin, and budgets everywhere were being slashed to pieces…”

Gloria suddenly looked very sad and Officer Hayes looked solemn, “Information about this incident will be added to the file we have on Abby Langdon, but Frank Langdon…there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be charged with anything in relation to this because I’m sure it wasn’t his choice to keep it quiet for this long,” he replied as he gazed at Robby and Dr. Abbot. “What do you remember of…?”

“One day in early 2021, Frank suddenly showed up to work and said that Oliver had died in his sleep the night before and was really insistent on being allowed to do his shift that day,” Robby explained in a quiet voice. “Everyone was asking him what they could do and about if they could help with funeral arrangements or anything, but Frank…he said that he and his wife were just going to cremate him and forego a service because large gatherings weren’t allowed yet. Not long after that, Frank suddenly showed up to work with an urn of ashes in a backpack and made me promise to take care of Oliver. I still have the urn on my mantle and he…I don’t think he ever went for counseling for that even when that became available in person. I think everyone else here was taking up all the slots that were available because of the stress of working the way we had to and Adamson’s death. God, COVID was so bad…and now we know just how bad it was for him.”

Gloria raised an eyebrow, “Well, Doctor Robinavitch, it looks like you were right to put Doctor Langdon on that 302 hold,” she spoke quietly, absolutely horrified beyond belief at the very sad situation that had only seemed to have gotten worse. “Mandatory counseling sessions are a part of that and I trust that you’ll see he participates…”

You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make them drink. Robby thought grimly even though he nodded, “I’ll supervise closely,” he promised softly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but…”

“Just be his friend, man,” Dr. Abbot spoke softly, giving Robby a look. “Like you are every day for me when we have our rooftop chats at shift change. Your love…hell, any love that anyone has to offer him…might just be able to convince our little phoenix to regenerate himself into something new and happy…just as long as people are willing to love him as he is right now…even if what he is right now is just a mess of ashes.”

Robby sighed and nodded and Dr. Abbot suddenly looked amused, “You’re not known for being patient, but you gotta be in this case,” Dr. Abbot explained firmly. “Our little phoenix is a veteran…a broken survivor of his own private little war that is not yet over in his mind. Just take things one hour at a time and listen to him with an open mind and no judgment when he actually feels like talking. He may not be open with Psych. In fact, he probably won’t be. I mean, who actually wants to talk to a psychiatrist after being caught attempting suicide and being put on a 5150 hold? Not anyone I know. You know, Robby, we’re extremely lucky that you forgot your wallet and had to come back to the hospital and that Santos was following him or he might have actually made it to the street and get himself hit by a car like he wanted to. And the stuff about wanting to jump off the roof…?”

Unknown to Dr. Abbot, Gloria, Robby, and Officer Hayes, Dr. Abbot’s comments about Frank had been overheard by Santos, who was up helping Whitaker take a late-night walk to and from the bathroom using a walker to steady himself because he had needed and wanted to go himself and wasn’t injured enough for a catheter now that he was conscious.

Both Santos and Whitaker had paused on their walk back from the bathroom upon seeing the meeting at the desk because they were curious as to what was going on because it seemed serious. They had overheard Dr. Abbot’s comments about showing love to someone who was on a 302 hold for a suicide attempt and Santos hadn’t said anything, as she wasn’t sure if it was Dr. Langdon or not, and she especially didn’t want to say anything about Langdon’s earlier suicide attempt while looking after Whitaker, who was still very much in the process of recovering from his violent encounter with the dying Abby Langdon.

Whitaker, Santos knew, would eventually be fine with time, rest, and counseling, but he was still jumpy if approached by surprise, as she had seen when he had nearly hit Nurse Kim Tate when she had come and tried to take his temperature while he had been sleeping.

Although Whitaker had apologized for freaking out and Kim had reassured him that she was not angry, given what had happened to him and that she should have remembered to wake him so not to take him by surprise, he was still wavering in and out of his experience, and he was currently at his limit of what he could currently handle emotionally. Santos knew that telling him of Langdon’s suicide attempt would be a bad thing to do. She had no intention of telling Whitaker anything more about Langdon’s health at all and hoped she could simply take Whitaker home when he was released later that day, and they could both forget about Frank Langdon and his chaos for a while.

Santos was especially pissed with Langdon because she had helped bring the man in from the ambulance bay on a gurney after learning that his intent was to get to the road and let himself get hit by a car, thereby absolving himself of any need to get help for the mess he was in. She didn’t like the mess he was in, but she especially didn’t like that Frank Langdon would rather commit suicide and leave two small, already motherless children behind along with a lot of colleagues who obviously cared for him rather than face his pain and try to heal. Frank Langdon may not be addicted to drugs like I thought he was, but he is very much addicted to problematic behaviors like lying, hiding abuse, and ideations. Santos thought darkly. They give him comfort and he’s become so comfortable with the pain and the thoughts that he has been living with that he doesn’t know what to do now that the source is gone. Abby was his source of pain and now she’s dead. His source of pain, the reason he stole the drugs, the reason for his hostility at work…everything…it’s gone now and he's breaking apart because Abby’s not around to keep feeding him the crap that made him wish for suicide…but she had already left enough scars that he wished for it anyway and actually tried it. He tried it and he’s a mess now. I wonder if he was the one Robby put on the 302 hold?

“…As stimulating as this conversation has been, everyone, I am going to get some caffeine from the vending machine and then I am going to sit with Frank so Mateo can get on with his shift,” Robby’s tired voice suddenly cut through the air. “I might also see if Dietary can also send something down for him to eat and drink when he wakes up. I’m beyond pissed at him, but I’m also sad for him and sad about this whole situation. I’m sad I had to put Frank, my own friend, on a 302 hold when everything else in his life was already going to hell…”

A faint gasp suddenly filled the air and Santos swore quietly as she looked at Whitaker: his eyes were wide and his expression was ashen. He had overheard Robby’s comments about Langdon being put on a 302 hold and was extremely shocked and dismayed by what he had heard.

“Come on, Huckleberry,” Santos spoke in a quiet, but firm voice, tugging his sleeve because she didn’t want him standing there and becoming tempted to go ask Robby questions about Langdon. “Back to bed with you. Now.”

Whitaker immediately obeyed, but he didn’t look happy about it and didn’t say anything as he walked alongside Santos back to his assigned room. Santos, however, looked at him worriedly.

Whitaker was still eerily silent as Santos settled him back in his hospital bed and covered him in his heated blankets because simply he didn’t know what to say. He knew what a 302 hold was, of course, but what exactly had happened to Frank that had prompted Robby to take such drastic action?

“Don’t worry about Langdon, Huckleberry,” Santos suddenly spoke softly, immediately able to figure out what Whitaker was thinking about simply by his facial expression. “It’s…it’s complicated.”

Whitaker frowned at Santos, quickly realizing she had more information about the situation than she was sharing, but she immediately gave him a look, “I will tell you everything, but not until tomorrow, and not until after we are home and you are resting,” Santos spoke firmly. “If you don’t want to sleep right now, that’s fine, but we are not talking about what we just overheard…”

“Um, I heard Doctor Underwood has my match letter,” Whitaker spoke softly. “Do you think we could maybe grab it from her before I go home tomorrow? I think I have to go to a counseling session with Psych before they let me out of here anyway. I heard Doctor Abbot saying something about that to me earlier, but I was half asleep…”

Santos nodded, “Yeah, we can do that, as long as you don’t mind being chauffeured around in a wheelchair,” she replied simply. “And then maybe when you’re feeling better, we can celebrate you…”

Exhaling softly, Whitaker nodded, winced at the pain the movement caused him, and suddenly looked solemn, “I’m lucky…I’m lucky to be feeling anything at all even if it’s pain,” he suddenly spoke in a pain-filled, but soft voice as he closed his eyes to rest and quickly found himself remembering every detail of Abby Langdon’s attack on him. “I thought…I thought I was going to die in that park. I was so scared. I was scared that Abby Langdon was gonna kill me. I could feel my life slipping from me as she held me. I could smell alcohol on her breath. She felt so strong to me, so she was probably high on something. Oh God, I should not be doing this…now I feel sick.”

Santos’s eyes widened and she quickly grabbed a bedpan off the bedside table, sticking it under Whitaker’s chin just in time for Whitaker to sit up and vomit into it, “Ooh,” Dr. Abbot’s concerned voice suddenly filled the air. “I honestly thought that was gonna come a lot sooner than now...”

Whitaker threw up twice more before he sighed heavily and sagged back into his pillow, “Maybe I should have puked all over Abby Langdon while she was attacking me at the park and she might have left me alone,” he replied weakly. “I just wanted to comfort her and she took advantage…”

“Don’t hate yourself for being kind, kiddo, and don’t stop being kind just because somebody took advantage of your kindness and hurt you,” Dr. Abbot replied gently as he approached the bed pushing a medical supply cart. “I get you saw her laying in that park injured and probably dying and just wanted to comfort her cause being injured and dying is scary. You shouldn’t feel angry at yourself for caring about someone who looked like they might be in need of care. If you wanna feel angry that you were attacked, held hostage, and almost killed after just trying to help, by all means, be angry at your attacker. Hate her. Hate the situation. Hate the fact that she was extremely impaired…but don’t hate yourself for caring…and don’t stop. You’re a good, caring guy…keep that.”

Whitaker sighed, “I’ll try,” he replied softly. “I just don’t feel like doing much of anything right now.”

“And that’s okay,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly, nodding. “You’ve been through something incredibly traumatic and it’s okay if you take time and space to deal with and heal from that. Speaking of healing, do you want a sleep aid? Your body and mind both need rest above everything else if they are gonna have any chance in hell of getting better from this and from what I saw, you are clearly struggling to rest.”

Whitaker sighed, “Yeah, I am,” he admitted softly, sadness filling his tired eyes. “I…I would absolutely love and appreciate you if you could help me with that. Please? I don’t want to fall into a bad headspace…I don’t…but I…I need help. I don’t want to lose myself to my trauma…”

Like Frank has already lost himself. Whitaker thought grimly, feeling sad about his friend’s suicide attempt and current 302 hold as he watched Dr. Abbot nod and quickly get to work preparing a sedative. I wish I could help you and be there for you and comfort you, Frank, cause what you’re going through…it sounds awful, but…I just need to look after me now. Is that okay? I hope it’s okay. I need to heal from this, and I hope you’ll take time for yourself too…like I’m going to take for me.

“One mild sedative incoming,” Dr. Abbot suddenly spoke gently as he injected the sedative through one of the IV lines. “Doctor Santos, if you wanted to hold his hand while he falls asleep…”

Whitaker found himself smiling at that and reached for Santos's hand, needing the comfort and Santos’s gentle grip was the last thing that Whitaker felt as he slowly succumbed to the sedative.

Chapter Text

“Breakfast time, Doctor Langdon!”

The obviously fake, cheery tone of whatever aide Dietary had sent down to The Pitt to deliver him food immediately grated on Frank’s nerves as he slowly came to awareness without opening his eyes, as did the squeaking noise that the food cart’s wheels made as it came closer to his bed, but he didn’t say anything. He just stayed silent in hopes that everyone would just leave him alone to process his recent decisions because the full impact of all his recent decisions, especially one in particular, was suddenly hitting him full force and he didn’t feel good.

“You awake, Frank?” Robby’s calm, but parental tone suddenly filled the air. “It’s time for you to eat…”

Oh, crap. Frank realized darkly. They assigned Robby to be my babysitter. I’m officially in hell.

“…Let’s see, light cranberry juice, yogurt, and a bit of applesauce and water and broken up sausage patties for Oliver,” Frank heard Robby say in an intrigued voice, hoping the tone of voice would prove encouraging to Frank. “Frank, I need you to wake up at least to eat what you can and do a wellness check with me. After that, you can go back to sleep til your Psych consult comes by in a few hours…”

I’m not feeling well. I surrendered my babies…my precious Tanner and Maria… to foster care for 30 days...or even longer. Frank thought grimly, his heart breaking as he reflected on how Dana had come by earlier and had briefly woken him to explain the arrangements she had made with Kiara and DCFS to serve as a co-foster parent, alongside her husband, for Tanner and Maria for at least 30 days or longer, depending on whatever he needed to do in terms of rehabilitative treatment or psychiatric care in order to get feeling like himself again. I…I gave my babies away…

“Frank?” Frank suddenly heard Robby speak again in a softer, more concerned tone.

Exhaling irritably, Frank woke and glared in his direction, “Oh…my…God, I put my kids into foster care and I’m more than a little pissed off about it!” he replied in an angry, but weak tone of voice. “Can you please just give me a minute to myself before we go through the motions of the 5150 hold?! I am feeling like pure hell right now because I did that…”

Silence suddenly filled the air and Frank exhaled weakly, deeply relieved because for once, it was quiet in his world, and he could finally have a moment to think for himself and about himself…

“Just leave the food and I’ll make sure he eats,” Frank suddenly heard Robby say softly. “All right?”

Footsteps filled the air and Frank found himself praying that the Dietary aide had fled back to their cave in silence without staying to stare at him being held to his bed with one restraint on his good ankle, one surgical boot, one shoulder sling, and Oliver sitting by his side to keep him sane.

Frank sighed irritably. Ever since he had recovered from his panic attack enough to fully regain consciousness, he had been woken up once every hour for wellness checks and vitals checks by well-meaning night nurses and he had given monotone answers to every question he had been asked simply because he had no energy or desire for conversation. The nurses had all been polite, but they hadn’t been exactly happy about having to be near him and he could tell that clearly. Everyone, Frank knew, was probably still traumatized by the fact that Abby Langdon and a pile of armed drug dealers had disrupted the ED’s safety and peace and they were all also probably pissed at him for Abby assaulting Dennis. Although nobody had said anything directly to him and had done their jobs, there was no warmth between him and the night staff and he didn’t expect there to be. He hadn’t even cared who had been in the room. He had simply done what was expected of him to the lowest degree and had settled quietly back into his comfortable darkness after he had been left alone.

And then his many dark thoughts had intruded upon his rest and made it anything but peaceful for him.

The bed was suddenly raised and Frank suddenly found himself looking at Robby, but Robby didn’t look judgmental or angry at him. He simply looked genuinely concerned and slightly groggy, as if he had just woken up from a sleep. Was Robby in the room the whole time I was in my little stand-offs with the nurses? Frank wondered as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Robby. I’ll bet he was. That sneaky little bastard probably wanted to see how I’d behave if I thought he wasn’t here suffocating the hell out of me and reminding me of my hell with his constant presence.

“We don’t have to talk, Frank,” Robby spoke gently, undeterred by Frank’s glare. “You just have to eat and you have to do it in front of me. You don’t have to eat everything, but you have to eat something.”

Frank scoffed, “Fine, I’ll take the juice even though it tastes like crap,” he replied darkly, silently extending his shaking hand past Oliver towards the portable table where the covered tray sat and suddenly holding his hand in thin air because he could see it was shaking badly. “What…what happened to my hand? It’s…shaking…like really badly.”

“Those would be tremors from malnutrition,” Robby replied softly. “After I put you on the hold, Frank, I ordered blood tests, and the results were not good. Your blood sugar is dangerously low and you know what problems that can cause…”

Taken aback, Frank silently withdrew his hand to Oliver’s head, but he could still feel the tremors in his hand, “Oh, hell,” he muttered softly, closing his eyes to breathe. “Eating…it’s difficult. Just looking at the food is making me wonder…are Tanner and Maria eating well and do they have enough to eat where they are? I sure as hell can’t feed them or even make sure they have enough to eat. I mean, I could barely feed them what I felt was enough food where we were cause I never knew what was coming next…Food is not supposed to be a trigger…”

A patient sigh filled the air, “Anything can be a trigger for people who have endured trauma, Frank,” Robby’s voice replied in a patient tone. “And Dana will make sure Tanner and Maria are well fed. She went home after she spoke with DCFS, actually, and I’m sure that your kids are probably having breakfast right now…something you should also be doing so you can eventually go back to them…”

Where are those brochures that Gloria left me? Frank thought silently, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and suffocated by Robby’s kindness and encouragement because he was so sick of causing harm and disruption to Robby's time, life, sanity, and wellness. The brochures were for in-patient wellness and treatment centers. After the three-day hold is done, I think I need to go. I need to get the hell out of here and go to a wellness center away from everyone that I know.  Whenever Psych or Dana or even Gloria comes by to check on me, I hope to God that Robby will give me some privacy with them so I can get the ball rolling in that direction without letting him know. I cannot let him know that all of this kindness and special attention from him is making me feel worse about myself. It’s making me feel like I need him as my security blanket and that…that is why Abby probably got high and killed Oliver…all because she thought Robby and I were having an affair during the COVID-19 pandemic and I was going to let Robby raise Oliver with me and shut her out. I know Robby thinks his charming bedside manner and him sitting in my room every minute will magically cure me, and I’ll be back working at his side in the Pitt like nothing ever happened, but it’s not that simple. It’s really not that simple. All this familiarity…it’s not good for me right now, especially given what Abby and her dealers did to the entire ED and particularly to Dennis. People…they’re not too forgiving around here and they’ll sure as hell never let me forget all the pain and suffering I brought to them. I need to go…I need to get away from what I know in order to get better…and it’s gonna hurt like hell to do it…but it’s gotta be done. I gotta stop treating people like fecking security blankets, especially Robby. He’s my superior. Not my friend. And right now, he’s my doctor who has me on a 302 hold because I tried to kill myself and admitted to having suicidal desires. I have to stop acting like Robby and I are friends. He is a doctor here and I am a patient. I am his patient and I am in very big trouble because of a mess I made. I don’t know what else I am right now except a mess…

Swallowing hard, Frank suddenly felt tears fill his eyes and fall down his cheeks, “What in the hell is making you so incredibly sad, Frank?” he suddenly heard Robby ask in a quiet, but gentle, and very concerned tone. “I wish to God you’d talk to me. If not to me…to someone…”

“I…I’m just thinking about my kids,” Frank lied in a quiet, tired voice. “All of them.”

A silence filled the air and Frank faked exhaling before he opened his eyes, only to see that Robby was now looking solemn, as he understood what Frank meant by 'all of his kids. Robby had truly loved Oliver Langdon like a son during his visits with Oliver and Frank and had been heartbroken when Oliver had died...

“Um…maybe I do need a little help with breakfast,” Frank spoke shakily, quickly electing to change the subject before Robby had an opportunity to talk, as he could see that Robby was very much thinking about speaking, most likely about a touchy topic. “I can’t seem to use my good hand properly right now, so, um…could…could you…please…help me eat and drink? I’ll…I’ll do my best to eat and drink everything, but I might not keep it down…”

“Just try your best,” Robby encouraged gently, wondering if there was indeed hope in the air for Frank's recovery at long last. “Your best is all I…all anyone…can ask from you. It’s appreciated…sincerely appreciated.”

Frank silently opened his mouth and offered what he hoped was a pleading look because he did not want to do anything at the moment but start establishing boundaries and living in reality, as painful as it was for him to do. At the moment, he, Frank Langdon, was an injured hospital patient on a 302 hold, a hold that had been arranged by one Dr. Michael Robinavitch. Frank knew he needed to stop keeping familiarity close or else it would be too hard for him to go away for the treatment he needed to start feeling normal again. He would mask to the point of exhaustion every minute of every day of the hold if he had to, but Frank was determined to get through the duration of the 302 hold, do what was expected of him during the hold, and then get out and go away…alone.

Robby, meanwhile, held the juice out to Frank and stayed silent while Frank drank it, but he had noticed the pain-filled resolve in Frank’s eyes and the sad resignation in Frank’s face simply appear out of nowhere and he did not like it one bit. Those things, Robby knew, meant Frank was planning to do something yet again…something equally if not more drastic than he had already tried.

At least, Robby thought as he watched Frank drink the juice, he had an advantage on Frank this time so he was more likely to figure out what Frank was up to and put a stop to it before Frank acted again.

Frank had forced himself to eat all the food, but the effort of eating that much…any food at all…had proven exhausting and by the end of it, he felt like he had participated in a full marathon. He muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ that was barely louder than a whisper and was out cold within seconds of finishing. Thankfully, nobody had woken him up again, not even for a wellness check and so his sleep had been a peaceful one. Frank knew, however, that the peace wouldn’t last long, but he tried not to dwell on his unresolved issues and simply focus on resting as much as he would be allowed to on a 302 hold.

“…He fell asleep right after breakfast and I’ve just not felt the need to wake him…” Frank suddenly heard Robby say in a quiet voice. “Psych hasn’t come down yet anyway, so there’s really not a need for him to be awake if doesn’t want to be…I actually want to visit with Dennis for a minute and see how he’s doing before Santos takes him home, so would you mind staying for a few minutes?”

Dana’s gentle voice suddenly filled the air and deciding to pretend he was sleeping so he could get information, Frank listened as Dana provided assurances to Robby that she and Officer Hayes would be fine and to take what time he needed outside of the room. Even though Frank wondered why Officer Hayes was there, as having the police suddenly show up to visit was never a good thing under normal circumstances, but the circumstances were anything but normal right now…

“Okay, Frank, he’s gone,” Dana’s voice suddenly filled the air. “You can stop pretending to sleep.”

Sighing tiredly, Frank opened his eyes and found that Dana and Officer Hayes were both sitting by the bed, “How’d you know I was faking?” he asked groggily. “I was tired from breakfast…”

“Tanner does the same thing when he gets overwhelmed by or doesn’t wanna be bothered by anyone,” Dana explained gently. “He lays down wherever he is and pretends to sleep so people won’t bother him. My husband and I usually just put him to bed when he does that so we don’t accidentally trip over him while doing house chores. I’m guessing he got that from his daddy and that his daddy also has issues with sensory overload that he hasn’t seen a doctor about, so that’s why you sweat and get anxious when you’re overwhelmed…or shut down…or display a complete lack of impulse control…or even yell at people you care about…”

Frank raised an eyebrow, “I thought I was managing well enough,” he replied sadly, amazed that Dana had picked up on his symptoms, symptoms that hadn’t made sense to him for a long time, but ones he had simply chosen to ignore because circumstances wouldn’t permit him to do anything else. “I think I’m going crazy, but I sure as hell can’t tell that to Robby or anyone here except you. I don’t know if it’s PTSD or not. Just having to deal with everyone’s emotions and fears about what happened recently…it’s overwhelming and distracting…and people will not give me any space or peace to figure out if what’s wrong is PTSD or something else. I think once the chest tubes are out, I need…I need to go find a wellness center or a mental hospital…or something somewhere…that’s not in the hospital…where I can just deal with all of this crap without worrying how much I’ve hurt the people who work here or how much my presence is affecting their ability to do their jobs and live their lives. I’m just feeling so suffocated and drained by everyone’s feelings about what happened in the ED because of Abby. Nobody’s said anything, at least not to me…but my God…the looks and tones I got from the night shift nurses last night…They did their jobs, but there was such a coldness in the room every time someone was in here and Robby…it’s killing him to deal with this. He needs a break too. And I need to get away so I can stop causing people pain.”

Dana and Officer Hayes exchanged a look before Officer Hayes sighed, “I know of a place and it’s very good,” he spoke quietly. “It’s called Blue Mountain Wellness Center and it’s a facility that addresses both inpatient and outpatient physical rehab, physical wellness, addictive behaviors, and mental health and wellness. It’s in the Mount Washington area. I know about the place because several of my buddies, the ones who didn’t end up popping themselves off during lockdown or dying of COVID, spent time there recovering or getting counseling from the trauma that COVID left on rescue workers. I also volunteer there and know the ins and the outs. Your 302 hold and all this stuff you’ve been dealing with recently, that information would actually help me and Nurse Evans here to be able to make some calls on your behalf about getting you a bed there. I could simply say to them that I have a friend needing some help and also say you're willing to come for voluntary treatment. I've done that dozens of times for friends on the force and I don't mind helping you go there too. If you wanna go, that is. It would only be possible for me to do that, though, if you want to..."

“It’s not a matter of want,” Frank replied shakily, tears filling his eyes. “It’s a matter of need. I may not want to be in a place like that, as it sounds like a very nice version of a mental hospital, but I need to be in a place like that because I sure as hell cannot stay here any longer than medically necessary. It’s bad for everyone else if I’m here longer than I need to be because I bring everyone pain, and it’s especially bad for me to be here because I’m reminded that I’ve brought hurt to so many...so many people…even people I thought I would never hurt…like Dennis…and Robby…”

Supremely pissed off that people in the ED were outright treating Frank like he was either problematic or like he was a leper over things that had been very much beyond his physical or mental control, Dana offered him a reassuring smile and gently rubbed the top of his hand, “Well, you haven’t hurt me, and I’ll work with Officer Hayes to get you into that facility,” she promised softly. “As soon as the tubes are out, ask for me if I’m not around and I’ll help you arrange for a way to get there…”

“They have Crisis Response vans that can pick people up from hospitals or anywhere else in the city,” Officer Hayes replied softly, hoping his words were proving reassuring to Frank. “We’ll take care of all the arrangements and I will make it clear you are coming to the centre for help voluntarily and Nurse Evans and I are simply friends who told you about the place. Anyway, Doctor Langdon, I also wanted to talk to you personally about something you mentioned to Doctor Abbot last night…about your son, Oliver…”

Fear filled Frank’s heart as he realized Dr. Abbot had reported his comments about Oliver being killed to the police, which he was required by law to do, and his fear must have been evident on his face because Officer Hayes sighed calmly, “I spoke with my superiors and with the District Attorney and given the extenuating circumstances, you will not be charged for not reporting the murder of your son. You will, however, have to come speak to police and the DA and a judge and give a formal statement in closed chambers about everything that happened regarding Oliver’s death so we can close that case properly. You know that all deaths, COVID related or not, were required by law to be reported during COVID lockdowns and…”

“I know my superiors had to tell the police when I shared that Oliver died in his sleep,” Frank interrupted tiredly, sighing irritably as he suddenly heard the door open. “Oh…the warden is back to make sure I didn’t take off outside again while he was away. Not that I could go anywhere even if I felt like it…my good ankle is tied to the bed by a restraint and the chest tube drains and the IV pole really are annoying to drag around…and Oliver, I don’t seem to do to well without him close by…all of that baggage really is much too heavy for me to go anywhere…even if I was feeling like it.”

Quickly realizing that Frank was suddenly pretending to be a jerk so he could hide his recent decision about wanting to go to Blue Mountain Wellness Center for long-term treatment from Robby, Officer Hayes and Dana quickly a exchanged look, silently agreeing that they would not tell Robby about what Frank had decided for his long-term care because it was painfully obvious that Frank did not want Robby to know about it.

“Um, I was just telling Doctor Langdon that I’ve spoken with the DA and my superiors about what Dr. Abbot reported last night and Doctor Langdon will not be charged for any of it, but he’ll have to give a complete statement about the incident in closed chambers to the police and the DA and a judge,” Officer Hayes explained, quickly covering for Doctor Langdon. “That, however, will only happen when after he is medically cleared to do so, and he’ll be allowed to bring his service dog with him…as well as a support person if he needs one.”

Robby scowled at Officer Hayes, “Can I talk to you outside, Officer Hayes?” he asked darkly, completely pissed off that Officer Hayes had just dropped that kind of news on Frank without even checking if it was a good idea to do so. “Now?!”

Officer Hayes glared at Robby as he stood up, but the two men said nothing to each other as they left the room because they did not want to argue in front of Frank.

Dana, meanwhile, opened her purse and showed Frank a piece of paper that was covered in little red crayon hearts that looked like they had been drawn by a four-year-old and ‘GET WELL SOON, DADDY. I LOVE YOU’ was scrawled on the bottom of the paper in the same red crayon.

“Tanner colored this for you this morning,” Dana explained softly, showing him the drawing and then setting it down on the portable table because she could see that Frank seemed pained by it. “I helped him with the letters, but that is what he wanted to say. He…he knows you’re in the hospital, but he doesn’t know why. I haven’t told him. He’s also asking about…”

“Abby,” Frank finished softly, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes to process that he would eventually have to let Tanner know the truth about his mother. “I’m going to have to tell him sometime…I just…I’m barely able to accept it myself. Maybe…maybe that will come someday, but I’m not there yet…”

Dana gently patted his hand and Frank exhaled tiredly, “Oh my God, I’m tired,” he breathed softly. “And I still have to talk to Psych whenever they show up…even though I really don’t have the energy for it. If I don’t talk to Psych, though, Robby will not be happy and I’m sick of stressing him out and hurting him. He’s my doctor and I need to be a better patient. I just have no energy right now.”

“And Robby...he's also your friend…” Dana began softly, frowning when Frank gave her a sad look. “What?”

Frank sighed, “I’ve hurt him too much and have been responsible for too much trouble coming his way to consider myself worthy of being his friend,” he replied softly, giving Dana a look. “The message that nearly everyone has been trying to send me since Robby thought I was stealing pills for myself…it’s been received…loud and clear. I’m going to do what I need to do to get medically stable and then get the hell out of here and out of Robby’s life…for good. Even if we eventually work together again…which I am not yet sure about doing because I signed the conditional agreement and then asked Gloria for additional recovery time and got that request granted…I can put boundaries up so that nobody has to be uncomfortable. Robby may have to supervise me per the conditions of the agreement, but that is where our relationship will stop. It has to. I have been constantly reminded of the fact that so much of what’s happened to me is because I got too close to him…too reliant on his friendship…too much in need of his presence in my life…and it pissed others off…”

“Frank, what…what are you talking about?” Dana asked curiously, now deeply confused and concerned by Frank’s words. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you okay?”

Frank, however, exhaled softly and closed his eyes, “No,” he replied, quickly stroking Oliver’s head so the dog wouldn’t alert. “I’m actually feeling a little lightheaded and very tired right now, so I am going to try and sleep until the vampires from Psych come try to suck me dry mentally. Please don’t tell Robby about anything we discussed…and I mean…anything.”

“I’ll tell him I gave you a drawing from Tanner and that you started feeling sick, so you decided to sleep for a bit,” Dana spoke reassuringly. “He may want to check you over himself, though…”

Frank sighed, “Oh, the joys of the 5150 hold,” he muttered darkly. “Any time there’s any issue, the doctors are right there in a flash and don’t seem to know or care when it’s best to back off…”

“I’ll take care of what you asked me to, and I’ll be in touch,” Dana replied gently. “Okay?”

Frank took another deep breath, “Mhm,” he mumbled sleepily. “Thank you.”

Dana gently rubbed Frank’s hand again just as Robby returned to the room, “Officer Hayes had to leave and he’s probably going right upstairs to whine to Gloria about how we got in another argument,” Robby spoke irritably, frowning when Dana motioned for him to keep his voice down. “What?”

“I was showing Frank a picture Tanner drew for him and Frank suddenly decided to have a little sleep because he was feeling sick and lightheaded,” Dana lied softly, not wanting to reveal Frank’s desire for extended treatment at Blue Mountain Wellness Center and completely unsure what to do or say about Frank’s little rant regarding Robby and setting boundaries. “Frank ate today…right?”

Robby’s eyes narrowed because he could immediately tell that Dana wasn’t telling him the whole story about why Frank was now not feeling well, but he did not want to press her because Dana looked unusually exhausted, not open to conversation, and Frank did look pale and sweaty...

Sighing, Robby nodded and immediately felt annoyed about this sudden turn of events: he was already annoyed because Santos had managed to get Whitaker discharged around dawn with Jack’s help, thereby denying anyone the opportunity to visit him and now Frank was getting sick.  

Dana watched as Robby gently shook Frank awake and had a brief conversation with him before promising to check his vitals and do bloodwork to see what was going on. She could immediately tell by the pain in Frank’s eyes, pain that had materialized when he had started discussing needing to get away to help himself, that Frank was absolutely ready to end his friendship with Robby cold turkey and disappear into the care system without leaving any information about what he was doing behind even though Robby seemed very dedicated to being both doctor and friend to the man.

Of course, Dana knew she would not tell Robby about the conversation that she, Frank, and Officer Hayes had shared because Frank had trusted her with his children and was now trusting her with his own future. Even though she didn’t fully agree with Frank wanting to slip off to long-term in-patient care without letting too many people know because that would leave him in a strange place without a familiar support system, she was going to help him however he would let her. It had been hard for Frank, Dana knew, to not only put his children in a long-term foster care situation, but to also ask for help getting himself to a long-term setting where he could receive the help he needed without the judgment and the poor treatment he had obviously been getting from some in the Pitt.

I’ll help you however you want me to, Frank. Dana thought, sadness filling her as she listened to Robby ask her to order bloodwork for Frank. I’ll help you even if it means letting you go. If you’re meant to come back to us…to this…you will, but I know that’s something you need to figure out for yourself…

As Robby began to check Frank’s vitals, Dana found her gaze meeting Frank’s and she nodded at him, silently promising him that she would help him get the help that he wanted for himself.

Deeply relieved that Dana seemed committed to helping him get the help he wanted and needed even if it meant they had to say goodbye to each other, Frank sighed, focused his attention on Robby, and on simply doing the minimal to get through his 302 hold so that he could eventually go on to get more extensive in-patient help alone…and in a place where nobody knew his name.

Chapter Text

24 Hours Later

“Frank?”

A sigh escaped Frank’s lips as he lay in the Semi-fowler’s position with his good hand on Oliver’s head, wondering why the hell they weren’t getting on with removing the chest tubes despite Robby promising that this was the day it could happen, “Yeah?” he asked in a tired voice. “What’s up?”

“Robby?”

Robby turned towards the door just in time to see Collins come through the door sporting a surgical apron and a face shield over her scrubs, “Hey, Heather, welcome back,” he spoke warmly, deeply relieved that she seemed to be doing well physically after her miscarriage. “What…?”

“I heard you needed assistance with removing tubes from Doctor Langdon’s chest?” Heather spoke softly, having come into work for her first full shift since her miscarriage only to be greeted by spurts of gossip about Langdon being a patient in The Pitt after being viciously beaten by drug dealers, Langdon being abused by his wife, Abby Langdon’s death, an attempted takeover of the ER by Abby Langdon and drug dealers, Whitaker being assaulted by a dying Abby Langdon, and Langdon attempting suicide by wandering out of the ED towards the street. “I thought I’d come offer to help…”

Frank sighed, “Just so you know, Collins, I’m so crazy and dangerous that I’m on Day 2 of a 302 hold and half the staff is afraid to come anywhere near me cause they’re scared something bad is gonna happen if they do,” he murmured in a tired voice, thoroughly irritated by the lack of friendly care he had received from the nightshift, and even a few of the dayshift nurses, over the last day due to the ever-increasing gossip about his decisions, his family, the recent incidents, and his suicide attempt making the night staff outright afraid of him. “I wouldn’t blame you if…”

“I’m afraid of very little, Frank,” Heather replied calmly, undeterred by Frank’s attempt to push her away. “I also care about you…”

Frank raised an eyebrow, “Hm,” he replied softly, not sure whether or not to believe that because he hadn’t seen her since before the Pittfest thing and absence was a funny way of showing care, at least in his eyes. “Apparently, Robby’s done all these tests and says the tubes can come out of my chest today and he’s been on the phone for the last two hours cause he’s been having trouble getting nurses to come near my room to help him take them out…”

Heather glared at Robby briefly before sighing patiently, “Well, I’m here now,” she spoke in a gentle voice before she gazed at his slinged arm and ankle boot. “Do you think you’re up for this all at once?”

“Oh, God…” Frank muttered darkly before suddenly composing himself and switching to a more civil tone that would not give away how crappy he was feeling. “I just want them out.”

Not fully convinced that her colleague was okay, Heather nodded silently and eyed Oliver and his service vest with confusion in her face, as she had no idea that Langdon even had one due to the fact that she had never seen it before, “Do you want your service dog on the bed during the procedure?” she asked softly. “It might make things a little harder, but…”

“Oliver, get off the bed and sit in the corner for a bit, okay buddy?” Frank spoke shakily as he patted Oliver’s head. “Please? I’ll be fine.”

Oliver quickly obeyed, but focused on his master intently once he was settled in the corner.

“Okay, Frank, I’m gonna give you a little medicine so you won’t be in pain during this,” Frank heard Robby speak gently. “We’ll do one tube at a time and be as gentle as we can. I mean, you already know the procedure, but…maybe you should close your eyes if you can do that and stay awake. I don’t want you watching this…”

It’s not any worse than the stuff I’ve seen and endured in the last five years, dude. Frank thought darkly to himself as he closed his eyes. Just pull the fecking tubes already. I’m sick of them.

All of a sudden, Frank felt like the right side of his upper body was as light as air and he couldn’t even feel the tube anymore. He could however, hear Robby and Collins moving his good arm out of the way and then talking each other through the pulling of stitches.

“Okay, Frank, can you take a very deep breath and hold it?” Frank suddenly heard Collins ask gently.

Frank obeyed and went very still for what seemed like an eternity. He could feel his anxiety slowly going up and sweat gathering on his face, but he did not let go of the breath. Just as he was about to pass out, he suddenly felt someone gently tap his shoulder, “You can breathe now,” he heard Collins say softly. “Just take a minute. Robby’s dressing the site…”

Quiet breaths escaped Frank’s lips, but he kept his eyes closed because he was very afraid of bursting into anxiety-ridden sobs if he opened them, “Okay…” he suddenly heard Robby say softly. “We’re ready for the other tube. Heather, do you wanna gently get his arm out of the sling and hold it out of the way while l do this one solo? Be careful of his shoulder. I just need to wash up again and administer a little medicine…”

Intense discomfort suddenly filled Frank’s body as he felt his slinged arm being moved away from his chest, but he stayed quiet. Not long after that, he suddenly felt like the left side of his upper body was as light as air. He heard Collins and Robby discussing things yet again and then he suddenly felt a tap on his hand, “Hold my breath, right?” he asked groggy. “Just hurry it up…please. I’m getting tired…”

An apology was offered by either Robby or Collins, but Frank couldn’t clearly tell who it was, nor did he care to hear fake apologies. Silently praying that he wouldn’t pass out, Frank again held his breath and suddenly felt a combination of sweat and tears pouring down his face because his anxiety about not being able to breathe freely was really beginning to go off the rails hardcore. He could suddenly feel Abby’s hands around his neck and choking him. He could hear mere blurs of voices, which meant he was going to pass out very soon. Darkness would be sweet…

Oliver’s whine suddenly broke through the darkness, quickly jerking Frank back into reality, “You can exhale now, Frank,” he heard Robby say softly. “Heather…God, he’s sweating and shaking a lot…

So sorry to inconvenience you, Michael. Frank thought tiredly to himself as he suddenly felt a mask being fitted over his face and something wiping his brow. I’ll try to pass out cold next time you ask me to hold my breath and remember Abby choking me. I’m sure you’d enjoy that…wouldn’t you?

Something soft suddenly touched his skin, “We’re just putting you in a fresh gown and giving you a fresh blanket now that the tubes are out,” he heard Collins say softly. “Robby, maybe get a BP and body temp. He feels cold.”

A beep filled the air, as did a curse word, “I will get some heated blankets and heated saline and be right back,” Frank heard Robby reply in a distressed voice. “Just keep him breathing and calm. Get Oliver near the bed, maybe…”

Feck it. Frank thought tiredly. I’m so overstimulated right now it’s actually toxic and I’m getting a headache just trying to keep myself together and keep track of everything going on in the room. I am just going to sleep and let Collins and Robby do whatever they need to. Deep breath and…surrender. God bless darkness. Even though I don’t think God exists, darkness is so very sweet…and welcoming…and quiet…

“…Do you know where Doctor Robby is?”

Even though he heard his name being called in the distance, Robby silently kept moving to the lounge, as he needed to use the microwave in the staff lounge to heat the IV bags for Frank. He had already secured a heating blanket that was now on his arm, but now he needed the IV’s heated. Almost immediately, Robby heard Officer Hayes, who had allegedly been temporarily assigned as extra security in light of recent events, talking to Santos, so he continued on into the lounge.

As he was placing a bag in the microwave, he suddenly heard the lounge door open and swing shut, “If you’re needing to heat something up, microwave’s busy,” he called out in a firm voice.

“Doctor Robby?” Robby suddenly heard Santos speak in a confused voice. “Got a minute?”

Robby turned, deeply surprised and pleased to see Santos, but he frowned when he saw that she was not dressed for work, “Are you on today?” he asked quietly. “I thought you decided to take a few days to help Dennis?”

“I’m currently doing that,” Santos replied quietly. “He’s just upstairs doing his counseling session right now, as they’re daily for the next week or two or however long he thinks he might need to do daily sessions. Dennis, um, got his match letter, though, and wanted me to share the news with you since he…he’s not ready to come into the ED yet if he can avoid it…”

Robby nodded, completely understanding Whitaker’s need for time and space after being sexually assaulted and almost killed by Abby Langdon, “Dennis matched here in The Pitt for his internship,” Santos continued softly. “He’s gonna be all right by July. At least…I hope he is, but we’ll work on it. Anyway, Dennis…he wanted me to invite you to dinner at our place tonight. He’s still nervous about being in public when he does not have to be, but he wants to celebrate his placement and thank you for helping him when he was a student. We’re gonna order special takeout and just relax. He’s not up for more yet and he wants to thank everyone else eventually, but he can’t handle big parties yet. Will you come?”

For a moment, Robby was quiet, as he was debating if there would be an issue leaving Frank in the hands of others for a few hours that evening while he went and enjoyed dinner with Santos and Whitaker. He finally decided that he could simply ask Collins to sit with Frank, as Frank hadn’t seemed to respond negatively to Collins during the chest tube removals and most of the rest of the ED had developed a little bit of animosity towards Frank because of everything that had happened regarding the man’s family, the drug dealers storming the ER, the attack on the beloved Dennis Whitaker, and the failed suicide attempt. Robby sighed as he switched IV bags around, wrapping the heated one in the blanket and stuffing the cold one in the microwave, deciding to also see if he could get Dr. Abbot or Dr. Shen in early that day or even Dana to come in so they could also be around if Frank needed more supervision or support than Collins was able or willing to provide.

I am exhausted. Robby thought to himself as he turned back to face Santos, who looked worried about him, but also hopeful that he would join him. A dinner with pleasant colleagues who don’t want to dwell on grief, anger, or killing themselves all of the time might actually be a good idea.

“What time would you like me there for dinner?” Robby asked kindly, relieved that he was finally gonna get a break.

“…Did you get pulled in for a consult?”

As Collins’s voice filled his hears, Frank suddenly felt a gentle prick in his wrist, but he didn’t fully wake up because he was finally starting to relax after his near-panic attack. Plus, he could feel Oliver beside him, and he didn’t want the golden retriever to alert. He wanted to hear the conversation.

“…No, actually…I ran into Santos while I was heating up the IV’s. She’s been taking some time to look after Dennis Whitaker…”

Frank’s ears suddenly perked up as he listened to Robby tell Collins about the attack Dennis Whitaker had suffered and the events that had led to it. Collins hadn’t offered any reply, but Frank knew that he would now probably get the same cold treatment from Collins that he had been getting from everyone else who was outright exhausted by the problems he and his late wife had brought into the already crazy world of The Pitt.

Even though he wasn’t supposed to know anything at all about the shooting in the park where Abby had died and Dennis had almost died, Frank had heard nurses gossiping about how 10 people had ultimately died in that shooting and how it would have been 11 if Whitaker had been alone, as Abby Langdon was sure as hell bent on killing the young man simply because she thought it was her crazy, depressed, suicidal, delusional husband she was assaulting. That sad little spitball of gossip, along with many others, was why many were avoiding him now as much as they could without appearing unprofessional. Frank truly hated being treated like a leper over circumstances beyond his control, but he was very much powerless and at the mercy of his haters while trapped in the 302 hold and so he simply had to tolerate the hate in silence.

“…Heather, would you actually mind doing me a favor tonight around 5? Dennis got his match, and he matched here in The Pitt and him and Santos want me over for dinner…”

“…Robby, I might not make it that late into my shift…I’m already feeling tired…Maybe call Doctor Shen?”

Oh…my…God. Frank thought darkly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at the idea of having to deal with Dennis every day as a colleague after he hadn’t been that good at treating Dennis as anything more than a safety net and a security blanket for the past several months. Oh my God. I cannot fecking handle the idea of working alongside Dennis and thinking about how Abby assaulted him. I’m sure he can’t handle it either, but I am the more expendable one of the two of us because I am on…what did Gloria call it…mental health leave? I am on ‘mental health leave’ til I am ready to come back to work under the conditions set by the hospital, but if I come back…that means Dennis won’t want to stay and he’s just beginning…Oh, holy fecking God. I cannot mentally handle this right now. Uh oh…Oliver’s whining…and I’m crying. Feck.

“Hey…hey, Frank?” Robby’s voice suddenly filled the air. “Are you feeling pain? You’re…”

Swallowing hard, Frank lifted his hand from Oliver’s head and tilted his hand back and forth slightly because he couldn’t currently speak due to the oxygen mask over his face. He was in pain, yes, but his heart was hurting more than his unslinged arm was and he could not even feel his chest again yet.

“…Right, let’s sling his arm back up and see about a light sedative,” he suddenly heard Robby say softly. “I also want to look at limiting who comes in here for the rest of the dayshift so Frank can rest uninterrupted. After I get back from dinner tonight, I’ll also see about vetting the nightshift…”

I hope that bed at Blue Mountain Wellness Center opens soon. Frank thought as he felt his hand suddenly drop into nothingness instead of back on to Oliver’s head. I’m so tired and spent from trying to pretend that my life is working. I need time by myself away from everything.

A gentle hand suddenly lifted his hand and placed it back on Oliver’s head, “Maybe after you’ve had a bit of rest, Frank, we can try getting some more food into you,” Frank suddenly heard Robby say in a concerned voice. “Maybe we can try a vitamin drip in the meantime…”

Feck. Frank thought darkly. I cannot take his need to be close to me anymore, but I don’t have the energy or the physical strength to wake up and tell him to go away…

And then, all of a sudden, Frank began to feel sleepy again.

Oh, thank God. Frank thought to himself as he quickly felt himself being pulled under by an unnatural force. A sedative. While it’s not particularly good for me to need it because I’ll probably puke it up once I’m awake again, it’s going to make my mind be quiet. It is going to make me sleep. I am going to rest…and be left alone. My mind…something is seriously wrong with it…

“…Enjoy your dinner break, Doctor Robby,” Frank heard a very familiar voice say as he slowly came to. “We’ll take good care of Frank while you’re out. Just take your time, turn your phone off, and enjoy dinner with Santos and Whitaker…and seriously, turn your phone off and don’t call the hospital every 15 minutes asking for an update. Turn your phone off and clear your mind…”

Quiet footsteps filled the air and as the door opened and closed, Frank opened his eyes and was immediately relieved to see the nightshift attending, Dr. Shen, sitting by his bedside looking tranquil as he sipped some sort of caffeinated beverage that was in a plastic cup, “Hey,” Dr. Shen spoke softly. “You feel like eating supper tonight? If you do, I can probably get you some warm chicken broth on DoorDash. If you don’t want food, I can order you something from Jamba Juice instead. The cafeteria’s open, but the stuff from there sucks...”

Frank blinked, “What…what time is it?” he asked groggily, not sure of anything anymore, but feeling less tense with Dr. Shen there. “You said it’s…around dinner time?”

“It’s about quarter to five,” Dr. Shen replied calmly, completely unbothered by the fact that Frank hadn’t jumped to attention for him. “I heard you had a bit of a rough time when your chest tubes were pulled out and needed a sedative for pain. That really sucks.”

Frank sighed tiredly, “Yeah,” he replied groggily, so relieved that Shen was not mothering him to the point where he was going to feel suffocated and feel the need to freak out. “Yeah, that does suck. Um, you mentioned food? I’m sorta starving, but the idea of eating…”

“So Jamba Juice?” Dr. Shen replied calmly as he pulled his phone from his pocket and began to tap on it. “There’s a Veggie Vitality juice or a Great Greens juice. Each of them have a lot of good stuff in them and they don’t seem too overwhelming. What do you think?”

Frank shrugged, suddenly feeling strangely emotionally detached from the idea of consuming food or liquid, but Dr. Shen nodded calmly, quickly catching on that the man was simply not able to make decisions for himself at the moment because his the part of his brain that dealt with that had outright crashed because of everything that had happened recently, “I’ll get you a small of each and you can decide by taste-testing when they get here,” spoke calmly as he did some more tapping on his phone. “Okay, dinner should arrive in about 20 minutes…”

“Thank you,” Frank replied softly. “Oh, um, Oliver needs…he needs stuff too…”

Dr. Shen sighed and non-chalantly took a sip of his drink before speaking, “Oliver’s having a drink of water in the corner and Dana’s at Dollarama getting him some wet food,” he replied gently, not at all liking how much Frank was forcing himself to stay awake because he felt he had to. “If you wanna have a nap while you wait for dinner, go ahead. I can work on a level in Candy Crush. The night shift sort of has a competition going in that amongst ourselves and I’m behind. You don’t need to stay awake just for me.”

Sighing, Frank closed his eyes, as extra sleep sounded so very appealing, especially since he wasn’t being forced to stay awake to appease smothering, hyper obsessive medical staff who wanted to watch his every move.

As he rested, Frank could hear the noises of Candy Crush and Dr. Shen giggling quietly to himself like an eager little school kid playing with a toy they loved dearly. For a moment, Frank thought about how Tanner and Maria no longer had toys…or anything for that matter…to call their own because their house was now gone and along with it, all of their possessions, but he quickly kicked that thought out of his mind. He could not handle letting his mind wander at the moment and risk alienating Dr. Shen like he had already alienated most of the staff…

Stop. Frank thought to himself, suddenly pissed off that he could not quiet his mind or his negative thoughts even if he wanted to or even when he was trying to. For feck sakes, Frank. Stop. Just put your hand over your eyes and take a deep breath. Oliver is busy taking care of himself and you don’t want to stop himself from doing that because you can’t control…

Hoping he wouldn’t be stopped from taking a moment for himself, Frank lifted his uninjured hand and placed it over his eyes before taking a deep breath. A machine suddenly whined and Frank felt his hand being briefly lifted and the pulse-ox clip being returned to his finger before his hand was lowered back to his eyes, “You accidentally dislodged the clip on your finger, but it’s fine now,” he heard Dr. Shen say quietly. “Just keep taking your moment. Oliver’s watching you, by the way…”

For feck sakes. Frank thought tiredly. That dog is really good at doing his job. I suppose I’m going to have to get used to that, though, as there’s no way in hell I can survive in this world without him…whether or not I end up being a doctor again somewhere. When Oliver the person was alive, he used to be amazingly perceptive too and would give me a hug if he even thought I needed one. Maybe Oliver the person left his spirit with Oliver the golden retriever. I…I feel like they’re intertwined somehow. I feel like my oldest son is close to me when the dog is…

“Hey, the DoorDash guy is early,” Dr. Shen suddenly replied in a surprised voice. “Awesome.”

Frank paused as he listened to Dr. Shen quietly thank the DoorDash guy and tell him to leave the bag and they’d take care of it, “Just take what time you need,” he heard Dr. Shen say softly. “Dinner won’t get cold even if you end up needing an hour before you have dinner.”

“It’s something I can focus on besides my brain,” Frank found himself saying in a tired voice as he removed his hand and looked tiredly at Dr. Shen. “It doesn’t wanna seem to shut up.”

Dr. Shen nodded, completely unbothered by those comments, as he had long suspected that Frank had some sort of disorder, quite possibly in addition to PTSD, that made life a living hell for him because it had not yet been diagnosed. Given Frank Langdon’s very troubling personal circumstances, all of which were now known by the ED, Dr. Shen knew it had probably been impossible for the man to seek medical help for his disorder even if he suspected he had something that needed addressing. It was hard enough for people in normal situations to see a doctor during COVID lockdowns and restrictions, Dr. Shen remembered as he sat there, silently unpacking the bag of juices and setting them on the portable table, but for someone in an abusive situation that had to also face their child being murdered by their spouse…

No wonder Frank Langdon was broken. Dr. Shen thought sadly to himself as he watched Frank’s hand slowly, but unsteadily snake towards the smoothies before hesitating and simply letting his hand linger just out of reach of the liquid meal. He seemed almost afraid of it.

Everyone’s reaction to the man’s brokenness…everyone’s overly negative reactions…those were probably not gonna help the man want to heal. Dr. Shen thought grimly. My God, Frank’s even struggling to let himself take food in even though he wants to. He’s overloaded by everyone’s reactions to his presence, recent situations, and his own brain’s inability to deal with everything enough to be able to communicate his need for proper help. He is well on his way to becoming fecking catatonic or having a massive medical emergency that will lead to long-term hospitalization. Robby…and everyone else who have let their emotions get the better of them in this situation…they have all forgotten or neglected the basic rule of care, which is do no harm. Plenty of harm has been done because people have been neglecting the needs of the patient in favor of their own comfort and thinking they know better than Frank in terms of what he needs and wants and the pace he is able to recover at. I’m almost certain that Frank Langdon has some sort of disability, and I am sure as hell gonna go over Robby’s head and speak to Gloria because Frank’s care is being severely mismanaged. Robby’s got his own crap to deal with and he is clearly overwhelmed by this situation because he is not being the good doctor that I know him to be, so I’ll just go ahead and talk to Gloria myself. First, though, I’m gonna try and gently talk Frank into at least making an effort to put something in his body. Something nutritional. He’s lost weight since being here and I can tell that just by looking at him. That’s not a good thing.

“That Great Greens juice…it looks awesome,” Dr. Shen commented in an intrigued voice as he pretended to study the Great Greens juice with an expression of great interest on his face. “I might even drink it…it looks so nice…”

Frank scoffed, “Can…can I at least try it before you drink it?” he asked in an uncertain tone. “And…can you help me with that…please? My hands are not exactly working right…”

Nodding, Dr. Shen fetched the Great Greens juice from the table and held the cup securely in his hands while he put the straw to Frank’s mouth. Frank began to drink without direction and drank for several minutes before he stopped, clumsily spat the straw out, and closed his eyes to rest. Oh, God. Dr. Shen thought worriedly as he observed Frank’s lack of connection to the world around him. This is not good. Frank’s already slipped into the stage where he treats eating as a strenuous physical workout and when he’s done, he doesn’t speak, he just simply closes his eyes and drifts into a state of oblivion just so he doesn’t have to be in the world. He’s slipping hard into catatonia and I’m not sure why nobody else noticed or cared. Feck sakes. This is really not good. I am definitely going to get a hold of Gloria…maybe tonight when Frank is actually asleep. This absolutely cannot wait until morning. Fecking hell. I’m actually unsettled.

The door suddenly opened, and Dr. Shen frowned when he saw Officer Hayes wander into the room, “Hey, um, is Doctor Langdon available for a chat?” Officer Hayes asked in a quiet voice. “I…I have some news for him that might actually make him happy.”

Dr. Shen gently moved Frank’s hand back to the bed as Oliver approached the bed, but Frank didn’t react to the movement, “Hey, Doctor Langdon, there’s a police officer here to see you,” Dr. Shen spoke in a concerned voice, alarmed by Frank’s lack of a reaction. “Doctor Langdon?”

“Mmh,” Frank groaned tiredly as he opened his eyes and saw Officer Hayes. “Hey.”

Oh, God. Officer Hayes thought worriedly as he eyed Frank’s lack of response and emotion to his presence. The guy is already in the basic stages of catatonia. Thank the Lord Jesus Christ that I got the call from Blue Mountain Wellness Center when I did. He needs to go…like now. If it hadn’t happened tonight, I am very much convinced Frank Langdon may have slipped into a catatonic coma because whatever the hell is going on for him here is not good for him.

“I got a call from Blue Mountain Wellness Center and they have a bed for you tonight,” Officer Hayes explained in a calm voice. “Your admission, as we discussed, will be voluntary and you and your doctors can decide together how long you actually need to stay there for…”

Dr. Shen’s eyes widened slightly, completely caught off guard when Frank nodded, “I…I need a shirt,” Frank’s tired voice filled the air. “And shoes. All of my crap is still with you guys.”

Officer Hayes, however, quickly spotted the folded pile of clothes near the computer, a pile which included an oversized black t-shirt and black hooded jacket, “You…you arranged private care?” Dr. Shen asked in a relieved voice, secretly relieved and deeply concerned that Frank had felt the need to ask a police officer for help getting out of his problematic state over his own colleagues, but he also understood why he did it. “What do you need from me? A ride there?”

“The center’s Crisis Response Team is sending a van,” Frank replied tiredly, quickly looking to Officer Hayes for confirmation and letting out a weak sigh of relief when the officer nodded. “I could probably use some help getting a shirt and jacket on. I’m not gonna bother with changing pants, but the catheter…”

Dr. Shen quickly took a sip of his caffeinated beverage before setting it and his phone aside on the portable table and getting up to wash his hands. He quickly washed his hands

“I would honestly leave that in until the people at the center decide on it,” Dr. Shen offered softly as he suddenly stepped out of one of his sneakers and began putting it on Frank’s good foot before undoing the restraint that held the man’s good leg to the bed. “We wear about the same size shoe, right? Take this and take the other one if you get out of the boot cast while you’re getting well. I always keep spare shoes in my locker just in case a patient pukes on me. Is it comfy?”

Frank sighed, “It’ll work,” he replied softly. “I…I appreciate you not trying to stop me, John.”

“Hey, this is your wellness we’re talking about,” Dr. Shen replied reassuringly. “Whatever works for you is what matters to me. Do you want me to help you get the shirts on?”

Frank nodded and remained quiet as Dr. Shen carefully sat him up, undid his sling and changed him from the gown into the loose t-shirt before putting the sling back and draping the oversized hooded jacket over his shoulders, “Just take a breath,” Dr. Shen replied gently. “If you need the hoodie, someone can help you with it, but just see how you feel first. Now, I think you can do well without these IV’s for as long as it takes you to get to the center, but I want you to drink the other juice before you go so you really will be okay. That’s the one in Mount Washington, right? Blue Mountain Wellness Center? I know of a lot of people who went there for counseling when it opened back up after lockdown. It’s a good place and will do a lot of good for you if you let it.”

Frank had nothing to say about that and continued to be silent as Dr. Shen disconnected him from the IV’s, the nose tube, and the machines and bandaged the sites where the IV’s had been, “I will take care of closing out your chart later on, but let’s focus on getting you out of here in one piece first. I do think you need a wheelchair to get to the van. I do not think it is a good idea for you to walk there…”

“You’re right,” Frank replied softly. “It’s actually very hard to sit like this, actually. I think a wheelchair…it might be a good idea.”

Nodding, Officer Hayes moved to the door, “I saw an empty one on my way in here,” he said softly. “I’ll be right back.”

When Officer Hayes was out of the room, Frank took a moment to look around at the mess of gifts and personal supplies and sighed, “Um, there’s a bag under the bed that I need to get…and pack all this up…” he spoke nervously. “The mess…it just seems overwhelming right now.”

Dr. Shen silently retrieved the bag, but only put Frank’s wallet, broken phone, the extra sneaker, and the toiletries in it along with the drawing, as he figured Frank’s son had made it and it might provide the man some comfort, and the items for Oliver. He left all of the flowers and other gifts where they were, as he was sure they would only prove disruptive.

Frank, meanwhile, simply closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the flowers and the gifts because he was sick of looking at them. They were performative and overwhelming, and he hated them. The stuffies would make good toys for Tanner and Maria and the flowers…he just wanted them gone. Dr. Shen frowned at the obvious dissociative behavior, but didn’t say anything because he didn’t want Frank to feel judged. At that same moment, however, Officer Hayes returned with a wheelchair and a concerned looking Dana, “Hey sweetie,” Dana spoke softly, gently touching Frank’s good hand to get his attention. “I heard you got some good news.”

“I wish I felt good enough to enjoy it,” Frank admitted quietly, opening his eyes to look at Dana with a pained expression. “I…I feel kind of like a ghost right now. Like I’m not really real…but just sort of coexisting alongside the living…that…that is not good and it’s not safe…”

Dana nodded silently, her heart breaking for Frank as she looked at him and silently processed his semi-dissociative state, “I, um, need you to take the flowers away and take all the toys to Tanner and Maria,” Frank spoke softly. “I don’t need them. I don’t want them. The flowers are actually creeping me out and making me feel like my corpse is lying in an open casket in a fecking funeral home and surrounded only by flower baskets as I wait for actual people to come away from their very busy lives and grieve over me. Can you clean all of them up and just…?”

Exhaling tiredly, Frank looked at Dr. Shen, “Could you please help me into the wheelchair now, John?” he asked softly as Dana turned her attention to feeding Oliver the can of food she had gotten him from Dollarama. “I am so fecking ready to get the hell out of here before I go fully catatonic.”

Dr. Shen silently did as he was asked, now quite shaken by the realization that Frank knew what was happening to him, but was simply focused on trying his absolute best to keep out of a state of permanent catatonia as best he could without asking for help from the staff even if he wore himself out. Or maybe, Dr. Shen thought grimly, Frank had already tried to express his need for help keeping himself from catatonia, but his pleas were simply not being heard or interpreted correctly by those who had power and influence to make a difference in his crumbling world…

Thank God Frank felt safe enough with Dana to seek help from her. Dr. Shen thought to himself as he rested Frank’s feet on the footrests of the chair and then rested the bag of essential supplies in Frank’s lap before arranging the catheter on the chair. Thank God Dana and Officer Hayes both managed to connect with the guy and his needs before the worst happened…

“I’ll take care of everything, sweetie,” Dana spoke softly, gently kissing the top of Frank’s head. “Do you want me to come visit me once you’re settled in? I won’t force you to see the kids…”

Frank nodded and sighed, “You can visit once I’m settled, but the kids…I think dealing with them will be too much for me right now,” he replied softly. “If Tanner asks, just tell him I’m too sick to have him visit right now. And, um, I don’t want others from the hospital…except for Gloria and the people in this room…to know where I am. Especially not Robby. He’s…he’s gonna freak.”

“I’m gonna meet with Gloria about what you’re doing, and Dana can even be part of that meeting if she wants,” Dr. Shen replied in a gentle voice. “There isn’t a need to even tell Robby…”

Frank nodded, “I…I’d kind of like to wait outside for the van,” he spoke softly. “I need air.”

Frank was surprised when the wheelchair began to move out of the room and through the ED, but he looked at nothing but the exit door because he didn’t have energy or desire to engage in conversations with people who didn’t like him or want him around.

Fortunately, it wasn’t very long until he was outside in a spot just beside the door. Oliver was quickly reunited with him soon after and Frank didn’t hesitate to rest his uninjured hand on the golden retriever’s head as they sat there together in silence, waiting for the van that would take them to Blue Mountain Wellness Center and away from the hell that The Pitt had become for both of them. Dr. Shen and Dana were nearby, Frank knew, but they didn’t bother him and Oliver and for that, he was grateful. Officer Hayes, meanwhile, was subtly lingering near the exit and looking like he was doing his security job while he was actually keeping an eye on them all until the van arrived.

As Frank began to feel sleepy again, he suddenly heard someone kneel next to him and saw the juice being held out, “Do you feel up to drinking a little more juice before the van comes?” Dr. Shen asked softly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it will give you enough energy to be able to get through the front doors at the center.”

“Sure,” Frank replied softly. “I’m pretty tired, so maybe…maybe that will help.”

Dr. Shen didn’t say anything as he fed Frank the rest of the one smoothie and about half of the other one, the smoothies that Dana had brought outside in case Frank wanted them before he left, “Thanks,” Frank spoke softly. “Um, John, you can come visit if you want…when I’m settled. I’ll call when I want people there…but you don’t have to if…if it’s too scary to be around me.”

“You’re not even remotely frightening, Frank,” Dr. Shen replied gently, giving his friend a reassuring look even though he didn’t expect one in return because Frank was looking out into the bay with a shadow of hope in his face that the van would come soon. “You’re just…unwell. Sick people, especially sick friends, aren’t really something to fear. They need love…”

As Frank nodded, indicating that he had heard the words, a black van suddenly pulled into the ambulance bearing a logo on the door that was two dark blue, checkmark-style swirls that were connected to each other sitting beside white letters that read Blue Mountain Wellness Center: Crisis Response Team. The van parked, went quiet, and a tall, very lanky young man with brown shaggy hair, black glasses, blue scrubs, a black sweater, blue gloves, and white sneakers came around to Frank shortly thereafter. Frank looked up at the young man nervously, wondering what he should do or say because he was beginning to feel intimidated. The young man, however, suddenly crouched beside the front of the wheelchair so they were at eye level with each other and offered a smile.

“Am I right in assuming you’re Frank Langdon?” the young man asked gently.

Frank nodded, “What’s left of him,” he replied in a tired voice. “I’m…I’m not exactly feeling…”

The young man nodded, an expression of understanding on his face, “Well, Frank, my name is David Martin and I’m the head of the Crisis Response Team at Blue Mountain Wellness Center and I’m also an RN,” David explained gently, very concerned about the man he was talking to because of how unwell he looked. “Can you tell me a little bit about how you’re feeling?”

“In crisis,” Frank replied weakly, tensing as sadness and fear suddenly filled him because he was worried that he would be expected to say more. “Um, I’m definitely in a state of crisis.”

David, however, nodded, “Well…why don’t we see what we can do about that?” he replied in a reassuring tone. “Do you think you’re ready to get in the van or do you need a minute?”

“Oh, I am quite ready to get out of this hellhole while I still can,” Frank replied in a quiet, but pain-filled voice. “I just can’t get up very well or even walk very well. I’m a fricking mess…”

Nodding, David looked to Dr. Shen and Dana for help and between the three of them, they were able to carefully move Frank and his small bag to the back of the van and get him buckled in. Oliver got into the van shortly thereafter and settled himself as closely to his master as he could. As the back passenger door was closed, securing him and Oliver inside the very warm and quiet van, Frank could see Dr. Shen hand David a very stuffed chart before they and Officer Hayes engaged in a quiet, very brief conversation. However, Frank suddenly realized that he didn’t care about others talking about him anymore. He was tired and just wanted to sleep.

Just as Frank was beginning to drift off, however, the driver’s side door suddenly opened and quickly closed, “Hey, Frank, this is my partner, Lance Nelson,” he suddenly heard David say as another young man, this one sporting short black hair, blue eyes, and blue scrubs, suddenly turned and offered a smile after lowering a mask that was covering his nose and mouth. “He’s an RN too, so you might just see us hanging around Blue Mountain during your time with us.”

“Do I have to do anything right now?” Frank asked nervously. “I’m feeling a little tired.”

As the van started up again and David and Lance buckled up, David shook his head, “No,” he replied patiently. “If you need to take a little nap while we drive up to the center, that’s fine, but we gotta keep an eye on you while you nap to make sure you don’t get sick. I mean, we’re equipped to help you if you do get sick, as these vans come stocked with supplies and we’re trained RN’s, but I don’t think getting sick is something your body’s able to handle right now…”

They’re probably right. Frank thought grimly, letting out a sigh as he felt Oliver nudge his leg.

“I’ll just try and stay awake then,” Frank replied softly. “Thanks for your concern…it feels real.”

As David pulled the van out of the ambulance bay, he exchanged a concerned look with Lance, who was already beginning to silently review Frank’s chart for trouble spots that they could mention to the staff at the hospital once they arrived there with Frank and he checked in.

Once the van was fully off hospital property, Frank silently leaned back and began looking at the passing city as he fought very hard to keep himself awake so he wouldn’t worry anyone.

Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Officer Hayes, Dana, and Dr. Shen had all gone inside and while Officer Hayes resumed his security watch while Dr. Shen and Dana went to the desk so Dana could add Frank’s discharge to Blue Wellness Mountain Center to the virtual chart that Robby had been keeping on Frank since he had arrived in The Pitt barely clinging to life. Meanwhile, while Dana was on the computer, Dr. Shen commandeered a phone and quickly dialled Gloria’s emergency number so he could arrange a meeting to discuss Frank’s status.

“Hello…Doctor Underwood?” Dr. Shen spoke softly as Gloria answered the phone. “This is Doctor Shen from the ED. Nurse Evans and I need to speak with you about Doctor Langdon immediately. There’s been a change in his status and this conversation cannot wait…”

Chapter Text

The dinner at Santos and Whitaker’s apartment had been quiet, but pleasant. Robby thought to himself as he got off the bus at the station closest to the hospital two hours after he had first left. They had eaten KFC, discussed Whitaker’s match to the ED, and then the party had broken up quite soon after because Whitaker had decided he was tired and needed time by himself, but he had asked Robby to dinner again and Santos had agreed to host again as long as Robby showed. Robby had agreed and then had caught the bus to give Whitaker and Santos space.

Unfortunately, even though I had a good amount of food and good company, I am still very tired and not looking forward to another night where I will barely get any sleep. Robby thought grimly to himself as the bus took off into the night.

Exhaling tiredly, Robby lingered at the stop for a minute, suddenly feeling very guilty for feeling exhausted when Frank was a lot worse off than him. I still don’t know how to help him, and Psych didn’t have any luck connecting with him either. I wasn’t even in the room during the session, but I certainly got an earful from the therapist after that their time with Frank had been nothing but a waste because Frank either offered one-word responses that didn’t open the way for more conversation or just stayed quiet and stared off into space like he wasn’t there.

Psych’s recommendation had been deeply troubling, Robby remembered grimly as he began to walk back to the hospital.  They had found Frank to be uncooperative and had recommended that the 302 be extended and that the ED even consider admitting Frank to a long-term psychiatric hospital because he wasn’t currently cooperating with his current caregivers.

Robby had not wanted to consider either recommendation, as Frank had two small children and other responsibilities that he needed to eventually resume giving attention to, but Frank was not cooperating with him either and had also managed to alienate most the nurses during his stay there. The tension between Frank and the nurses had left Robby on his own to play both doctor and nurse to Frank for the last two days and as much as he cared about Frank, Robby truly wondered how much more he could take before he broke down or crashed from caregiver burnout…

I might have to ask for some help. Robby thought grimly as he entered The Pitt and saw Officer Hayes there, chatting casually with Dana in a corner. I thought I could handle this, but…

Exhaling anxiously, Robby suddenly found himself feeling shaky and unsteady on his feet despite having just been to dinner with Santos and Whitaker and enjoying three pieces of KFC chicken, a small pile of wedge fries, macaroni salad, and Sprite, and needing to move himself to Chairs for a quick breather. He earned a few stares from waiting patients as he nestled himself in an empty chair in the corner, crossed his hands over his chest, and closed his eyes. He didn’t care who stared at him. He just needed a moment to breathe before he went back to Frank.

I am exhausted trying to carry Frank on my back by myself. Robby thought tiredly. I put him on the 302 hold to give him time to heal from the attack, Abby’s violence, the attack on Dennis, and Abby’s death and to give me time to figure out how to help him heal, but this arrangement is not working well for either one of us. Frank’s not responding and I’m exhausted. I am exhausted…

“Doctor Robinavitch?”

Oh, good God. Robby thought darkly, deeply annoyed that people couldn’t seem to cope for more than a few hours with Frank without him being right there to keep the man under control. All I want to do his have five minutes to myself. Is that too much to ask?

“Doctor Robinavitch?” Robby suddenly heard Dr. Ellis speaking in a concerned voice. “Doctor Shen and Doctor Underwood want to speak with you about Doctor Langdon…”

Oh, great. Robby thought grimly, wondering what Frank had done or said to piss the normally very patient Dr. Shen off. I hope Frank didn’t end up alienating Dr. Shen too with whatever the hell is going on in his head. I was only gone for a couple of hours…

“Just tell John and Gloria that I’ll be back in Frank’s room in a minute after I get a catnap, okay, Doctor Ellis?” Robby replied tersely, his tone of voice full of exhaustion. “It’s like seven p.m. anyway. Frank should have had dinner by now and should be resting…”

There was suddenly a heavy silence, “Um, Doctor Robby, Doctor Shen and Doctor Underwood want to speak with you in the conference room regarding Doctor Langdon’s discharge,” Dr. Ellis spoke in a concerned voice. “I was told to come get you when you arrived…”

Robby’s eyes suddenly flew open in a wild fury and he glared daggers at Dr. Ellis, “Excuse me?!” he replied in a slightly raised, pissed off voice, certain he hadn’t heard right. “Doctor Langdon was on a 302 hold! Who the hell ordered him discharged?!”

“I think that’s why you’re needed in the conference room,” Dr. Ellis replied firmly, giving Robby a concerned look. “You look tired, Doctor Robinavitch. Are you okay?”

Oh, my fecking God. Robby thought angrily, scowling as he stormed off to the conference room to see who had overruled his 5150 hold on Frank and why they had discharged him when it was so painfully clear that the man still needed extensive treatment. I am so fecking pissed right now. Whoever fecking overruled my orders is gonna have to fecking answer for it.

David and Lance had both offered to get him a wheelchair and wheel him into the intake area of the Blue Mountain Wellness Center when the van had arrived there, but Frank had insisted on slowly walking himself up the wheelchair ramp with his bag looped on his arm inside to the desk because he had the belief that him entering the facility under his own steam and without any assistance would show that he was willing to seek help without being prodded to.

The walk had been slow and somewhat painful, but Frank had managed it simply by leaning on the supportive bar with his good arm and having Oliver walk beside him.

By the time Frank got to the intake area, however, he had to lean heavily on the front desk for support because his legs were trembling from the long walk and his head was beginning to pound due to exhaustion and also due to the fact that Oliver was whining uncontrollably, sensing that his master was not well.

Instead of freaking out at the dog or his unwell state, though, Frank simply hunched forward, promptly hugged the desk with his head, his good arm, and half his body, took slow, deep breaths, and decided to simply give himself a moment in that position, believing that he could talk himself down out of feeling pain long enough to sign in and get to a spot where he could crash even if it took a while for him to get there. I’m on my own now. Frank thought silently as he ignored everything but trying to tell his body he wasn’t uncomfortable. I can take my time.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the hallway in the outpatient section, Dr. Jack Abbot silently made his way out of his therapist’s office after managing to get in for an evening appointment before he had to go off to work. He was tired from engaging in conversation with his therapist, but he was also energized enough to go work yet another nightshift in the chaos of The Pitt without having the urge to jump off the roof. And that fact made him dare to smile.

Anxious canine whimpering suddenly filled the air, dragging Abbot out of his thoughts and his eyes narrowed as he spotted a very familiar golden retriever at the intake desk next to a figure wearing a boot cast on one foot, a sock and sneaker on one foot, green scrub pants, an oversized black shirt, and a hooded sweater draped over his shoulders that seemed to be hugging the desk and allowing his very messy dark brown hair to go in every direction. A small cloth bag hung loosely from one arm, a bag that didn’t look like it had a lot in it. Certainly not enough for a long-term stay. Abbot thought. Whoever this guy is, he’s struggling…wait a minute. Let me get a little closer here. I’m getting a bad feeling.

Abbot’s uneasiness grew tenfold as he neared the desk, caught sight of CRT workers and RN’s David and Lance lingering nearby with a wheelchair that held a very stuffed chart and sporting concerned expressions on their faces. Both the chart and the chair looked like they had been ‘borrowed’ from Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital and that found Abbot feeling nothing less than alarmed, all the tranquility he had collected from his session quickly slipping out from under him as he put together who the mess at the admit desk was. Oh, God. He thought grimly. I know who that is and I know he tried to walk himself up to the desk from the CRT van cause he’s afraid. Oh, my little phoenix. You truly are just a mess of ashes now, aren’t you?

A faint whimper suddenly filled the air and Abbot quickly found himself lunging forward with his arms outstretched as the figure’s body suddenly gave out and began to sink downward towards the floor.

David and Lance took that as their cue to grab the chart out of the chair and bring it forward, as they hadn’t wanted to rob their patient of his ability and right to make his own choices while he was still conscious and competent. Even though they both knew Frank wanting to walk from the van to the intake area was a very bad idea due to the man’s very frail physical and mental health, he was very insistent on being able to and had outright refused the chair. The two CRT workers knew that per facility policy, they couldn’t insist on forcing treatment unless a patient was incapable of making decisions on their own, but they had both silently followed after Frank with the wheelchair from the hospital that Dr. Shen had lent them along with the strong warning that Frank was on the crux of mental and physical collapse.

Both workers were very much aware of that fact, however, as they had each tried engaging in conversation with Frank during the drive up to Blue Mountain Wellness Center, but he hadn’t responded to either of them and had instead simply stared out the passenger window in a semi-catatonic state for the entire drive, acting as if the world and the people in it weren’t there. Only when they arrived and brought up the subject of the wheelchair did Frank come to life again and angrily refuse it, insisting that he could make it from the van to the intake desk with Oliver’s help. David and Lance were not deterred by Frank’s sudden aggression, though, as they could see it was simply him being afraid of not being able to choose for himself, a fear that was sadly common among survivors of domestic abuse. They had seen mention of that circumstance in his heavily detailed chart along with a lot of other detailed and sad sounding observations and care notes from one Dr. Michael Robinavitch and they planned to take the chart to whatever doctor Frank was assigned to in the morning. At the moment, however, they had to focus on getting the man stabilized and admitted…they had to start slow.

Unaware of the fiasco that had taken place between the CRT workers and Frank outside, Abbot gently guided the now semi-conscious Frank into the chair and Frank immediately slouched backwards, began to wheeze softly, and placed a shaking hand over his eyes while Oliver whined before approaching his master’s uninjured hand and nudging it insistently.

For several minutes, Frank didn’t respond to Oliver and David and Lance quickly found themselves moving towards one of the nearby emergency response closets, one of many throughout the facility that had been created since COVID, for appropriate care supplies because that was protocol if a patient wasn’t responding to stimuli or promptings from their service dogs. Abbot, however, simply crouched beside the wheelchair on the opposite site of Oliver, ignored the discomfort such an act was putting on his prosthetic foot, and waited. Very slowly, but surely, Frank moved his hand from his eyes, although they remained closed, and placed it on Oliver’s head. As his fingers began to stroke Oliver’s fur, Frank’s eyelids fluttered briefly before opening and Frank’s tired gaze immediately met Abbot’s, but Frank didn’t say anything because he knew where he was, but what he didn’t know was why Abbot was there, and he didn’t have the desire or energy to make assumptions. Besides, from what Frank could tell, Abbot didn’t seem anything but concerned and didn’t seem like he was going to...smother.

“Hey Phoenix,” Abbot spoke gently, electing to be very gentle with Frank because the deadness in Frank’s eyes and face outright reminded him of fellow soldiers he had seen in hospital during his recovery, soldiers who had been so traumatized by the war, the things they had gone through, and what they had become in both body and mind because of war.

Frank, however, offered no reply. He actually offered no response at all and Abbot was immediately worried, again thinking of the soldiers in the hospital and how some of them had ended up so far gone mentally that they had ultimately ended up in long-term care facilities cause they had simply lost the ability and desire to live and the ability to successfully take care of themselves. I hope Phoenix doesn’t end up like they did. Abbot thought worriedly to himself.

“I was just in the neighborhood seeing my therapist and I saw you falling, so I decided to catch you,” Dr. Abbot explained in a gentle, soothing tone. “How are you doing today?”

Frank exhaled, “Bad,” was all he could manage to say because he was scared of giving away too much information and having it get back to The Pitt and its people. “You’re not gonna tell people I’m here, right?”

Abbot shook his head, unsurprised that Frank’s head immediately went to fear first, “I actually volunteer here in my off-time and me talking about this place outside of this place is strictly against confidentiality rules, so no,” he explained calmly. “You’ll be very safe here.”

“I…I just wanted to walk to the intake desk from the van,” Frank breathed softly, allowing himself to breathe a little freer now that he knew that his choice to be here for long-term treatment wasn’t going to be exposed. “I just wanted to show that…that it was my choice to come here…”

Dr. Abbot nodded as Lance and David suddenly came back into range with their arms full of emergency response supplies, “Well…you showed that,” he replied patiently. “And you nearly passed out in the process. It’s awesome that you wanna protect your right to choose for yourself, but if you’re making yourself sick or hurting yourself while in the process of protecting your right to choose for yourself, that’s showing people that it’s not a good idea that you make choices for yourself at the moment because it’s only hurting you to do so. I’m assuming you don’t want to keep hurting yourself. Right? I mean…you came here. You came here on your own for help because you realized that the way you were going through life and that life itself wasn’t working…and your brain didn’t know how to make it work…”

Frank eyed Dr. Abbot warily before nodding, “I should know how to deal with all this…fecking crap,” he replied in a quiet, but pained voice. “I’m an adult. I should be able to make my life work the way I want it to, but my God. I can’t. I don’t know how…my brain is screaming at me constantly because nothing makes sense that is supposed to make sense…I can’t put anything together right anymore. I had everything and now I have nothing…Feck. Even if it was bad, I still had…I had something…and now I don’t…I’m a fecking mess of…something.”

“Well, Phoenix…finding hope and comfort in a bad reality…that’s not a good way to live and I think you know that, but you just can’t grasp that because your brain does not have the tools to help you see differently,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “At least not yet. The interesting thing about a toolbox, though, is that toolboxes can be designed and built however you want them to be, and then filled with the tools that you want and need in order to become something awesome. This place will help you make your toolbox, but you should not rush the process…”

Frank sighed tiredly, waves of tiredness suddenly overwhelming him to the point where he could barely focus on what Abbot was telling him. Everything hurts. Frank thought darkly. Everything that I can feel, anyway. I can’t even feel much of anything right now. I’m just spent.

“Ohkay,” Dr. Abbot spoke calmly, seeing that it wouldn’t be very long at all until Frank needed to go to sleep, as the man was clearly fighting it. “Hey Phoenix…I know you’re sleepy. I can see it very clearly. I just need you to hang in there for a little longer so David and Lance here can check your vitals and so you can fill in the basic intake chart. You don’t even have to hold the chart. I’ll use the pen and you can give me the answers you wanna give me. All right?”

Frank sighed tiredly, but nodded, “Okay,” he replied in a tired voice. “I guess I can do that.”

As Dr. Abbot stood up and moved over to the intake desk to grab a basic admissions chart, he turned and silently watched as David and Lance began gently checking Frank’s vitals while trying to engage in conversation with him. Although Frank didn’t outright refuse the care, he flinched whenever he was touched and even gagged a little at the thermometer and he did not make any effort whatsoever to engage in conversation with either RN. Fortunately for him, both David and Lance seemed unbothered by Frank’s reactions and continued to work calmly.

Feck it. I’m calling in sick tonight and staying with him. Dr. Abbot thought to himself as he grabbed his volunteer doctor lanyard badge off the badge wall, a wall that was just behind the desk and above where the a pile of blank charts usually sat, and moved back over to Frank and resumed his crouch beside the wheelchair so Frank wouldn’t feel intimidated. If I don’t stay right here and help get Phoenix through at least his first night here, he won’t connect with anything or anyone else…and he desperately needs help. He is so very lost in his own private little war and needs someone to help show him that there is a way to safety. Someone he can trust.

Robby had not gone into the conference room straightaway even though he had gone there as fast as he could after being told to. He had simply lingered in the hallway for a moment to breathe and collect himself so he wouldn’t end up going off on Dr. Shen or Gloria.

Finally, when he felt like he could control himself, Robby silently entered the room and was surprised to see Dana and Officer Hayes seated at the table with Dr. Shen and Gloria, “I, um, heard Frank was discharged,” Robby spoke in a quiet tone even though he felt anything but calm and quiet inside. “Does someone wanna tell me why?”

“Doctor Langdon arranged for private, long-term care elsewhere,” Gloria explained calmly, eyeing Robby worriedly. “This information was given to Doctor Shen by Officer Hayes and Nurse Evans last night and so Doctor Shen…”

Robby glared at Dr. Shen, “You could have at least sent me a text, John,” he replied darkly, fighting the urge to smack him. “I’ve been absolutely killing myself for three…”

“Four days,” Dr. Shen interrupted in a quiet voice. “You’re tired, Doctor Robby. You’ve become so worn out from taking care of Doctor Langdon that you’ve lost track of time and lost track of yourself. You worked yourself into a state of exhaustion and you couldn’t give him your best because you were too tired to. You got tired and it made you anxious. Doctor Langdon caught on to your exhaustion and anxiety and incorrectly thought he was the problem. I don’t know when he had opportunity to set private care up, but he did…”

Officer Hayes sighed, “I’ve known Doctor Langdon for a while and I’ve even been in to visit him a few times since he’s been here,” he replied simply, quickly earning a glare from Robby, one that he tactfully chose to ignore. “When I was visiting him, he mentioned wanting to go get help elsewhere and I helped him arrange it. He doesn’t want people to know where he’s at right now, but he’s fine. You understand? Doctor Langdon is just fine and he’s in a safe place.”

Robby continued to glare at Officer Hayes for a moment before he nodded, folded his arms, and looked at the floor, “I know you’re pissed, Michael,” Dr. Shen spoke up, seeing that Robby looked ready to fight the decisions that had been made. “Everyone knows you’re pissed cause you wanted to be the one to help Doctor Langdon, but the help that was being offered here wasn’t working for him and he wasn’t responding to you because you pushed yourself into a state of exhaustion and anxiety that made him think he was the problem. When a bird no longer finds their nest comfortable and safe for themselves, it needs to be able to fly away to find somewhere safe where it can rebuild its life. It’s as simple as that. You wanting to keep him here in restraints and under constant watch because you’re so scared something bad will happen to him if you’re not there for him every minute of the day…it’s like keeping a bird from learning to fly and stopping it from learning how to survive on its own in the world. It’s unsafe. It’s not good for him. It’s worn you down. And that is where Doctor Underwood comes in…”

“You’re off for the next three days starting now and required to go to mandatory counseling indefinitely after that,” Gloria cut in a gentle, but firm voice. “Do I make myself clear, Doctor Robinavitch?”

Taken aback, Robby looked up from the floor in a hurry, fully intending to glare at Gloria and argue with her about the time off, but he suddenly found that he couldn’t argue because Dr. Shen’s words made sense and Gloria was also right to insist he take time off to decompress.

Swallowing hard, Robby nodded and silently left the conference room without looking back.

“Psst, Phoenix, can you open your eyes for me?” Frank suddenly heard Dr. Abbot whisper into his ear in a gentle tone of voice. “Just for a sec? It’s time for you to go to bed now and you can’t spend the night in the chair.”

Pissed off that he hadn’t been able to stay awake long enough to get through intake and a simple vitals check, Frank silently opened his eyes and frowned when he saw that he was in a hospital style room with tan walls, a dresser, a desk, a closet, a window seat, a door leading to a bathroom, and a hospital style bed, “This is my room?” Frank asked groggily, eyeing the room with distaste. “It looks like the hospital…”

“It’s your room for now,” Dr. Abbot explained gently. “Not for your whole stay here. Once you’re feeling better, you’ll get a room with more color and less of a hospital look to it. You need at least a few days worth of vitamin drips, fluids, saline, and steady rest before you’re put on a long-term treatment plan, though, as physical stability has to come before the mental stuff is addressed. They may even want you to eat and drink something before they let you start counseling and other therapy, but we don’t have to worry about that tonight. I’ll speak with the day team in the morning for you…if you let me…about things and you just focus on resting and remembering that you’re safe. Oliver can stay on the bed with you, by the way...”

Frank exhaled and nodded, “Rest sounds nice,” he admitted softly. “And yeah, you can talk to the day team about me. Do I need to sign something…to give you…permission?”

“Not til you’re in bed,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “And then I’ll let you use the iPad instead of making you try to pick up a pen. Speaking of bed, Phoenix, do you think you’re ready to let me, David, and Lance help you into bed? We can take it slow…we’ll going at your pace here.”

Frank nodded and didn’t fight or flinch as he was helped up from the wheelchair and onto the bed. The pillow was cold, but it wasn’t a bad cold, it was rather a refreshing cold. He could feel his shoe being removed from his foot, his bag being slid off his arm, and his sling suddenly being removed. He paused briefly, unsure of what was happening, but then he felt his arms being gently slid into the sleeves of the hooded jacket before his one arm was put back in his sling and gently rested atop his torso.

As footsteps filled the air, Frank suddenly saw an iPad being held in front of him, “David and Lance went to get some IV’s for you, but I wanted to show you the iPad form I was talking about cause I can see you’re ready to sleep,” he heard Dr. Abbot explain gently.

Frank eyed the form silently, unsure of what to make of it, but he wasn’t against it entirely as long as he could be told what it meant. Fortunately, Dr. Abbot could see and understand the hesitation and wasn’t at all offended by it. He had been prepared for it, actually.

“The form authorizes me, as volunteer doctor and volunteer patient advocate here, permission to communicate with the centre’s treatment team on your behalf because you’re not currently able to communicate your needs by yourself,” Dr. Abbot explained, knowing he had to talk fast because it would truly not be long before Frank was asleep. “I know you want to speak for yourself, but you need to trust me, Phoenix. You’re not able to do that right now. You’re medically impaired and your judgment in terms of what is good for you is also impaired at the moment.”

Frank raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, as he knew Dr. Abbot was absolutely on point with what he was saying. I’ve been slipping into little catatonic spells for days. Frank thought grimly. I even did it in the van on the way here and I think it happened between the admit desk and my room. I wanted very much to communicate, but I wasn’t able to. I felt my brain shut down. If there is a God and a Jesus…I am fecking scared. I am losing control so quickly and I can’t even pretend I’m not anymore. Thank God Dr. Abbot is here because he knows me personally and knows I am not normally like this. He understands I am not well. He understands I don’t want to be like this. This whole thing…my health…is overwhelming and scaring the hell…

“…If you trust me, I will make sure you’re told all you can be told about your care when you are no longer medically impaired,” Frank suddenly heard Dr. Abbot say in a gentle, but firm voice. “I’ve seen enough tonight to tell you that you are not currently competent to make decisions for yourself. You need someone to make decisions for you right now because you’re not able to. It sucks because I know you want to keep your right to choose for yourself, but you’re not making safe choices right now nor are you able to discern between choices that cause self-harm and provide self-care. That’s not your fault, though. Your brain is not able to do that right now. I’m pretty sure you’ve got some sort of undiagnosed neurodivergent condition that makes your mind process things just a little bit differently than other minds and you will get treatment for that, but only after you are medically stable. In order to get there, though, you need someone to speak for you regarding medical treatment because your brain has pretty much crashed due to being overwhelmed by recent events. You’ve crashed in that you’re barely able to communicate, you’ve had catatonic spells, you can’t make safe decisions for yourself, and you have very poor vital signs, including alarmingly high levels of fatigue. You need intervention in the form of an advocate who can be your voice. I won’t let anything bad happen to you while I’m serving as your advocate. I promise you that. I know you’ve been through pure hell and I’m sorry…I am so very sorry…”

“I know,” Frank replied in a tired voice, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavy as he found himself squinting at the form. “I’m grateful you’re sorry about everything…every loss and trauma I’ve had to deal with…because I think you mean it. It doesn’t feel performative coming from you. I don’t feel overwhelmed or guilty or completely in the dark when I talk to you. Um…where do I sign? I’m tired. I really am ready to go to sleep…for however long I need to sleep for.”

Dr. Abbot silently pointed to a small line on the tablet, “Just sign there with your finger and it doesn’t matter if you have to go slow,” he instructed softly, relieved that Frank didn’t seem to be arguing with the idea of an advocate and at least had a basic idea of how serious his situation had gotten.

Hell, I’ll literally use up all my vacation and sick days for the next fecking year if it’s what’s needed to help Phoenix here get out of dire straits. Dr. Abbot thought determinedly as he watched Frank sign the form with his finger before reaching out into nothing. There we go. Now I can do some good for him and make sure he’s treated better here than he was at The Pitt.

“Okay, Phoenix, that’s all I need from you right now,” Dr. Abbot spoke in an encouraging voice as he took the signed tablet away and motioned for Oliver, who had sat back near the door while he waited for permission to approach because he had been able to tell that his master was being taken care of, that it was okay to come to be with his master now. “Thank you for trusting me. I won’t do anything to make you regret trusting me to be your voice. Okay?”

Oliver quickly walked over to the bed and Dr. Abbot gently picked the dog up, set him on the bed, and placed Frank’s hand on top of Oliver’s head. Frank, meanwhile, closed his eyes because he truly could not stay awake anymore even Dr. Abbot wanted him to. Dr. Abbot, however, wasn’t bothered by Frank going to sleep, as he had gotten the authorization he needed to serve as Frank’s care advocate and that would allow him opportunity to make sure the medically impaired Frank could receive the care he needed without feeling unsafe.

It was well past midnight by the time Robby got home to his apartment, and he wasn’t even sure how he managed to get there in one piece because he was not fully sober.

After getting his pack from his locker, Robby had left the hospital, taken a very silent walk through the park, and had ended up buying a twelve-pack of fancy beer with a high liquor content from a 24-hour liquor store that was on the other side of the park and not far from his building. He had also proceeded to polish off a quarter of the pack during the walk from the store to his apartment and he was already tipsy from it by the time he got in the door.

Letting out a quiet burp, Robby dropped the rest of the unopened pack on his coffee table before sinking on to his couch and staring blankly at his mantle for several seconds and fighting the urge to kick his plasma television off its stand because the black screen reminded him that he had failed to pull Frank Langdon, a person he cared about, out of the void he was currently in. I’m so fecking angry with myself. Robby thought darkly as he sat there. I failed Frank.

As Robby sat there in a semi-drunk stupor, silently grieving his failure and trying to decide whether or not he should drag himself off the couch and go to bed to try and sleep off the booze, a familiar looking urn and a photo sitting on the mantle above his tiny electric fireplace. Oh, God, Oliver. Robby thought sadly, immediately recognizing the urn. Oliver.

Exhaling weakly, Robby slowly got to his feet and slowly made his way over to the mantle. He gently stroked the urn before kissing it tenderly as if he were kissing a child goodnight. He then took the photo off of the mantle and sluggishly returned to the couch to look at it and remember the very interesting story associated with it, as it truly had been an interesting story.

The photo was of a slightly younger him and a much happier looking Frank. Both of them were in black matching scrubs and were sitting at the bottom of a kiddie slide smiling at each other while a happy looking Oliver sat on their knees looking up at both of them fondly while Tanner lay asleep in a tiny black stroller that was parked at Frank’s left knee.

It had been several months after the playground near Frank’s house had reopened for limited use after COVID lockdowns and Abby had been ‘out,’ so Frank had asked if they could hang out so the kids could get some fresh air in a place other than the boring backyard before it got too cold to go anywhere in public with small children.

Robby had agreed to meet him at the playground, and they had both shown up wearing scrubs because Frank’s washer was broken and his wardrobe was limited to scrubs until it was fixed and Robby had a shift at The Pitt later that day, but neither man had minded their wardrobe because the day was about the kids and simply being able to hang out as buddies.

While they had been hanging out and chatting, however, a photographer from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette had seen them, had approached them, and had asked them questions about how lockdowns had impacted their family’s relationship and their ability to raise their children.

Deeply amused by the reporter’s assumption that they were a gay couple raising a family, Robby and Frank had laughed it off and simply said they were off-duty healthcare workers enjoying downtime away from the stresses of COVID because Oliver and Tanner had wanted to play outside in an actual playground. Frank had also said that he trusted Robby with his life and the lives of his sons, and he was grateful for Robby’s existence, as they had been holding each other up since COVID began. Robby had admitted to loving Oliver and Tanner Langdon like they were his own kids and had admitted that he couldn’t imagine living in a world without Frank Langdon in it as he felt like he and Frank were each other’s rocks and that they needed that security. The reporter had recorded everything they had said and had also asked if he could take their names and take photos of the four of them, as he claimed he was writing a piece on what medical workers did when they were not trying to help people through COVID. The reporter had taken several homely looking photos of them and Oliver and Tanner before leaving and he had promised to send them the original copies after the piece was published. Frank had then taken Oliver and Tanner home, saying they needed to be back before Abby got home or 'she would worry.' Robby had then gone to work, not thinking any more about their strange encounter with the reporter or about the article that the reporter had supposedly promised to write about healthcare workers.

The article, however, had ended up being a full-page fluff piece on him and Frank being gay healthcare workers who spent a good deal of time helping others through COVID, but still found time to take care of themselves, their relationship as a couple, and their children so that their family’s mental and physical health would not suffer even though families all over the world were crumbling due to the effects that COVID was having on people everywhere.

All the papers and the magazines throughout the city had reprinted the piece for several weeks afterwards along with a lot of the photos that had been taken and Robby had remembered being the subject of a good deal of positive, encouraging attention for a while, as the article had apparently inspired many to actually take a step back and take care of their mental health better even though COVID was a very taxing thing to deal with. Several photos of him, Frank, Oliver, and Tanner had accompanied the article, and Robby had been inundated with requests for autographs, all of which he had politely declined simply because he was too busy working long hours to bother with addressing people’s skewed ideas about him and Frank. Even though he also had been bothered by the reporter’s angle, as it was sharing an untrue scenario, Robby had never had the time or the energy to call the newspaper to complain or demand a retraction and had figured the hype would eventually die down.

The hype had eventually died down but so had his visits with Frank. Out of nowhere, Frank had stopped asking him to hang out after work or on off-days, and had always made excuses when Robby had tried to reach out, so much so that Robby had stopped asking him to hang out at all.

And then one day in early 2021, Frank had come to work in the ED and had announced that Oliver had unexpectedly died in his sleep. Robby remembered offering condolences and help alongside the rest of the staff, but Frank had politely refused all offers of help. Sadly, Robby also remembered why the ashes were on his mantle in the first place: months after Oliver’s death, Frank had suddenly shown up to work with the urn in a backpack and asked him to take it.

Robby sighed sadly as he gazed up at the urn with the photo still in his hands. When he had brought the backpack holding the urn home, he had also found the photo of them in the backpack along with several copies of the fluff piece as well as all of the original photos that the reporter had taken of them, Oliver, and Tanner at the park that day. Frank hadn’t provided much of an explanation about why he hadn't wanted to keep any of that stuff, except stating that he trusted Robby would keep it all safe, so Robby had put the urn on the mantle and had stored the articles and the photos in a secure storage box underneath his bed so they would be safe from harm. And then, Robby had slowly watched his once close relationship with Frank turn cold. Although Frank had never let his work suffer, nor had he been disrespectful to Robby in the work setting, they hadn’t been as close as friends as they had been prior to Oliver’s death. Their relationship had been more like civil colleagues than friends and Robby had never understood what happened, but he had always wanted to ask because he truly cared about the man even when he had assumed the very worst of him, but he had never asked. Robby knew that their poor communication had been utter crap in recent days and Robby hadn't even tried to be a friend when Frank had clearly needed one. No wonder Frank left. Robby thought grimly. I was a poor friend...for a long time.

And now, we’re not friends at all. Robby thought grimly as tears filled his eyes. I pushed Frank away when he was in his greatest hour of need and then I didn’t handle it right when I had a chance to get him back…because he’s gone and I don’t know where he is. I let him down.

Sighing heavily, Robby held the photo against his heart and allowed the welled up tears to fall from his face. 

I’m so sorry I let your dad down, Oliver. Robby silently thought as he allowed himself a quiet, but deep cry that rocked his entire, very tired body. I’m so sorry. I claimed to love him, you, and Tanner like family and then didn’t show it. I let you all down.

Chapter Text

Two Days Later

The sun’s warm today. Frank thought to himself as he slowly came to. It’s actually nice.

Exhaling softly, Frank quickly looked down at himself to take stock of himself now that he was physically able to. He saw Oliver asleep at his side and resting atop a clean-looking tan blanket that was covering him from the chest down. He lifted and extended his good hand outward and saw that the palm had a fresh IV line taped to it, a patient bracelet was around his wrist, and there was also a clip on his finger while the rest of his arm was covered by an oversized sleeve.

My hand’s not shaking for the first time in…it seems like days. Frank realized, allowing himself to feel a small bit of relief as he slowly flexed his fingers before bringing them to his chest, a place he immediately felt a bandage and a tube. Hm. Frank thought. They must have done a central line so I’d get nutrition better. I almost wish I had a mirror so I could see…or do I? Am I ready for that?

Exhaling softly, Frank looked over at the bed controls and slowly raised his bed until he was sitting up. He gazed around at the room and saw his unpacked cloth bag laying on the portable table along with a note that sat atop an official looking binder, a journal that had a pen clipped to it, and a small square hand mirror. Deeply confused, he picked up the note and silently read it.

Hey Phoenix,

I spoke with the center’s care team, and they think it’s best I stay in charge of your physical care cause we connected so well at Intake, so that’s what I’ll do. You are on IV’s of fluids and saline for dehydration and low blood pressure, an oxygen tube, and a central line for nutrition and your catheter, scrub pants, and boot cast have been changed so don’t freak out if you wake up and you don’t recognize what you’re wearing. Your shirt and sweater were fine, so we just put the sweater on you so you would be warm while you slept. Oliver’s been well fed and walked while you’ve been asleep, by the way. I know that’s probably something you’re worried about, so let me just get that out of the way now so you’ll stay calm.

If you wake up in the morning before I can come over there from work, which I ended up needing to go to last night cause they were short staffed, just know you have been asleep for two days and I didn’t feel the need to wake you for vitals checks because your body and brain needed the rest. If you need something or want to try going outside with Oliver, do not try and get out of bed yourself. Call for a nurse. They would rather help you with everything instead of having to scrape you up off the floor because you made a decision to self-harm instead of self-care. I know it might be tempting for you to try and take care of yourself. I know you may want to, but you are not yet at the point where you are able to. The nurses here are all very well-rested, very patient, and will not be bothered by your need to take your time figuring out what you might want to do. Nobody here expects you to move faster than you have the strength to.

I have also left you a binder explaining what the center offers, a journal where you can write your thoughts down so they don’t overwhelm you, and a hand mirror so you can see yourself, love yourself as you are, and practice saying aloud the affirmations that are taped to the bottom of it. I have left you three to begin with (you will get more eventually) and I would like you to try saying them aloud to yourself while staring into the mirror at least once every hour that you are awake. It will do wonders for your physical issues. I will also get you some clothes, as you will eventually want and need changes of clothes…

Frank’s hand immediately went to the bag on the table because his brain was suddenly telling him that he had to unpack his things and sort everything he had out. He had to organize his room. However, before his hands could actually open the bag, he remembered what was in there and that gave him reason to pause and close his eyes to really think about it.

The shoes that Dr. Shen gave me off of his feet are in there, but I only need the one because of my cast and I can’t even put the shoe on my foot by myself. I’d have to call for someone and I’m still nervous to do that because whenever I called for someone at the hospital, they would act like I was some big problem who constantly needed babysitting instead of being able to handle things like the adult that I am. I don’t want that to happen here. I know what the letter says, but…

Dr. Shen…he packed me some toiletries, my wallet, and my phone, along with the drawing from Tanner. I don’t even care what I look like at this point, to be quite honest, so why do I need crap like shampoo and soap or even a toothbrush and toothpaste? They don’t need to be out if I am not using them because I’ll just stare at them and think about how much of a mess I truly am. How far down I fell from what was a manageable life…but was it a life? Was it really? Feck… Dr. Abbot’s letter and what he said is already getting to me…

Why do I need my phone? It’s cracked, but works…but who would I call? Who do I have? I destroyed all my relationships at the hospital by lying, by stealing, by not being able to manage myself properly, and by bringing danger to everyone. I don’t need to see it because then I’ll only think about what I lost. Tanner’s drawing is not a good thing to have out either right now because it will only remind me that I had to put my babies in foster care because I could not take care of them and that I couldn’t even keep all of them alive…my eldest son is dead. Oliver’s death is going to make me think about Abby and how she’s dead and all the stuff that happened between us and that’s a place I can’t go. Where is that fecking mirror? I have to see what I’ve become because of all this…

Exhaling weakly, Frank opened his eyes and grabbed the handle of the hand mirror, exhaling again as he brought it to his face and first saw three little post it notes taped to the bottom. The first note said I am a person. The second note said I am a good person. And the third note said I am enough. Frank eyed the notes briefly before lifting the mirror to his face and opening his mouth to say the affirmations aloud like Dr. Abbot’s letter had told him to do, but the words would not come. It was as if his tongue was suddenly gone. All he could do was stare at the battered ghost in the mirror.

His eye…one of the last gifts that his wife had ever given him in life, was now purple, but looked less swollen, the gash on his forehead was freshly bandaged, as was the rest of his head to protect the healing wound in the back of his head that had been caused by the gun being jammed into it, the part of his neck where he had been headlocked was now a small array of purple bruises, and his broken nose was still set, but it no longer looked swollen.  The rest of his face and neck, however, was chalk white and he truly looked like a battered ghost.

No. Frank thought firmly to himself, suddenly realizing that he was thinking something quite dangerous. I’m not dead. I’m not a ghost. I’m still alive. I’m barely alive, but I’m still alive.

“I…I…am…a…person,” Frank spoke in a quiet voice that was barely above a whisper, his body trembling with anxiety as he uttered every word aloud. “I…I…am…a…good…person.”

Swallowing hard, Frank felt his grip on the mirror suddenly tighten as his eyes travelled to the third Post-it note, “I…am…enough,” he exhaled weakly, closing his eyes as he suddenly felt the anxiety disappear.

Sighing heavily, Frank gently laid the mirror back on the bedside table and simply just took a moment to sit with his eyes closed as tears filled them, “That…was…so…hard,” he breathed in a shaky voice, suddenly sick of overloading his brain with scattered, overwhelming thoughts when it was simply okay for him to talk to himself aloud.

Or write. Frank realized as he remembered the journal Dr. Abbot had left him.

Opening his eyes again, Frank reached for the journal and the pen and silently began to write messily in the journal while Oliver napped beside him. The dog, Frank realized, hadn’t alerted while he had been lost in his train of thoughts, so that must have meant he had managed them.

That doesn’t mean I’m better though. Frank realized. It took a hell of a lot of effort to manage those thoughts, and I need help with that. I need a lot of help…with everything.

Exhaling, Frank stopped writing for a moment and gazed at what he had written.

I am relieved that I didn’t end up making it to the road and throwing myself into traffic cause it would have stopped me from getting here so I could fix myself. I don’t want to die, but I don’t know how to live as I am either…and I can’t keep living as I am. Something has to change. I have to change. I have to change myself so I can change my world…and then maybe I can help the world again. As a doctor? Maybe. I don’t know yet. As Frank Langdon? I hope so.

“That’s enough for now,” Frank spoke softly to himself, sighing heavily as he closed the journal and set it back on the portable table.

All of a sudden, Oliver lifted his head and looked at Frank expectantly, “Oh, you gotta go out,” Frank quickly realized in a shaky voice. “All right. Um, I…I can’t take you by myself. Just hold on.”

Hating that he was currently as helpless as a child, Frank silently pressed the nurse’s call button that was on his bedrail and sighed as he stroked Oliver’s head, suddenly finding that he couldn’t look the dog in the eye, “I’m sorry, boy,” he spoke softly. “I’m not at my best right now, so I…”

Footsteps suddenly filled the air and a tall, slightly muscly male nurse sporting a dark crew cut, blue scrubs, and sneakers suddenly wandered into view and crouched next to the bed in his view, but didn’t say anything, “Um, hi…I…I…Oliver needs to go out, and I’d like to just be with him,” Frank stammered nervously, unable to look the nurse in the eye. “I would very much like…some help…being able to go sit outside with him…if that’s okay.”

The nurse suddenly looked both thoughtful and concerned, “First of all, Frank, my name is Austin, I’m an RN here, and it’s nice to meet you,” Austin explained in a gentle voice, very sad that Frank felt like he was nothing less than a prisoner under heavy restrictions who didn’t feel worthy of looking people in their eyes. “Second, you don’t need to ask for permission to do something you want or need to do or get worried that you are going to get into trouble for failing to ask for permission. Doctor Abbot left instructions that you need to ask for assistance if you want to leave your bed or your room, but you do not need to ask for permission to. You need assistance and supervision if you are outside of your bed or your room simply because you are currently too medically impaired to be left unsupervised, but that’s not going to last forever. You’ll eventually get to the point where you can move around without so much need for assistance and supervision, but that’s going to take time because your body is broken and sick and sick and broken bodies need time to heal. You need to give yourself time and respect…”

Oliver whined softly, “All right, I’m sorry,” Frank replied anxiously, suddenly getting frustrated at himself because he couldn’t seem to figure the whole process out immediately. “I…”

“Should not be apologizing for things beyond your control,” Austin spoke firmly as he walked off to retrieve a wheelchair that had been left in the corner of the room closest to the door. “That’s self-harm. It’s not your fault that you’re struggling. You’re here getting self-care because you’re struggling. To apologize for struggling with things beyond your control is self-harm and is undoing the self-care. You don’t need to and absolutely should not take responsibility for things that are not yours. Your struggles are not your fault; therefore, you shouldn’t take the blame for them. You should only own what is yours, focus on what you can control, and simply leave the rest alone. Anyway…would you like some help getting from the bed to the chair?”

Frank was silent for a moment before he nodded, “Yes, please,” he replied quietly, his mood now grim because he realized that he was just now reaching the bottom of his mountain and still had a very, very long way to go before he was okay again…if he could even get there at all.

The courtyard of the Blue Mountain Wellness Center was made up like a miniature park, was five acres, had wheelchair and service dog accessible paths everywhere along with benches that were easy to sit on, big trees people could sit under and simply veg out if they wanted to, and lights among the paths so people could even take walks at night if they so desired. The five acres were fenced in by a white lattice style fence, but the fence was covered in green shrubbery and colorful flowers, all of which was intended to promote welcoming, safe energy.

There were also plant boxes full of colorful flowers lining the paths and Frank found himself drawn to the colors as Austin silently and slowly rolled his chair along the path and Oliver trotted beside the chair, anxiously looking for a good place to pee. Even though he didn’t mind being outside and actually quite enjoyed the warm weather, Frank didn’t feel like talking and Austin didn’t seem bothered by it, nor did he try to force a conversation because he knew Frank was present, not in danger of slipping into a catatonic state, and was just simply pondering things while taking in his surroundings and that was a safe state for him to be in. He simply just kept an eye on both Frank and on Oliver, with an emergency response pack on his back and a readiness to act if a problem popped up that required a medical response.

Oliver suddenly climbed up the grass near an aged tree and Austin actually thought he noticed the faintest traces of a smile appear on Frank’s lips as he kept an eye on his service dog, but he didn’t say anything. After completing his business, Oliver scuffed the grass briefly before returning to Frank’s side and Frank gently patted his head, offering a quiet word of praise to him before asking him if he was tired and wanted to go lie down for a bit.

“Um, Austin, I…I think I’d like to go lie down,” Frank spoke nervously, suddenly feeling overstimulated and worn down by the outside air and the colorful environment. “Can…can you please help me back to my room? This was nice, but…I’m…I’m tired. There’s a lot here...”

Austin nodded, “Yeah,” he replied calmly, not at all surprised that Frank couldn’t tolerate being outside for very long after he had just woken from a physical and mental crash that had left him barely able to be in the world at present. “Just take a breath and relax, all right? You’re safe.”

As Austin silently moved him and Oliver back inside, Frank exhaled weakly and took a brief look around at the common area that they were passing through to go back to the medical wing of the center. The common area had couches, chairs, tables and chairs, a kitchenette, a pool table, and shelves full of games, books, and therapy materials, but there was no TV present.

Frank noticed that closer to the intake and medical areas, was a small tech lab, visiting areas, and a small hair salon. Hm. Frank thought silently, eyeing the hair salon with great interest. Maybe I should ask for a hair appointment. My hair feels like a greasy bird’s nest…

The door to the hair salon suddenly opened and to Frank’s shock, Mel came out wearing casual clothes and a lanyard and volunteer badge around her neck and she didn’t see him, as she turned the other way and headed off in the direction of the intake desk, but he sure saw her.

Oh…feck. Frank thought worriedly as he suddenly began to feel worried and anxious and tense up because he was overwhelmed with the idea of someone from work recognizing him and reporting back to everyone else where he was. Oh…feck. I’m not calm now. I’m getting a headache. I’ve already tensed up. Oh…feck. Feck, feck, the day was going so well and then I had to see someone from The Pitt. I mean, I’ve already seen Dr. Abbot, but he’s not gonna tell on me. He promised. Mel might. I feel sick. I…I have to close my eyes and try to cover my face before…Feck. I’m already getting overwhelmed. Oh, God, I can feel myself wanting to…

“Frank?” Frank suddenly Austin’s voice call out to him in a concerned tone. “Frank, talk to me.”

Frank, however, gagged and found himself unable to offer a verbal reply because he was too afraid to speak and have Mel recognize his voice. Frank knew full well Mel might feel tempted to share that she had seen him at Blue Mountain Wellness Center regardless of the confidentiality rules Dr. Abbot had mentioned, as he knew Mel was enthusiastic and certainly enjoyed talking a lot. He also knew that Austin was trying to talk to him, and that Oliver was now whining, so he had to do something to respond that didn’t involve identifying himself in any way, shape, or form just in case Mel was nearby. What can I do? Frank thought worriedly, trying desperately to think of something that he could do to let Austin and Oliver know that he was alive.

A faint breath suddenly escaped his lips as Frank found that he couldn’t avoid breathing anymore even though he didn’t feel like it, “Ohh…there we go,” he suddenly heard a voice say in an encouraging tone. “Right, David, let’s get him back to his room and on oxygen support and get a call into his primary medical caregiver. Frank, we’re gonna take you back to your room and get you on oxygen, but just take slow breaths til we get there, all right? And don’t stop.”

Completely unaware as to what had just happened, Mel came back towards the hair salon from intake after signing in for her shift at the wellness centre’s hair salon, as she had accidentally forgotten to when she arrived. She suddenly paused, however, when she noticed Head of Crisis Response and the center’s head RN, David Martin walking slowly alongside a semi-conscious, obviously panicking, very battered and ill looking…

No! Oh, my God! Mel realized grimly as she gazed at Frank in horror. It’s Dr. Langdon!

Instead of speaking to Austin and David, however, and asking how she could help, Mel silently watched as the two RN’s carefully guided Frank’s wheelchair down the hallway, through the intake area, and in the direction of the medical area. Dr. Langdon, Mel realized, looked pale, sweaty, and like he couldn’t breathe very well and that made his injuries look ten times worse. He was also sporting a central line, an IV in the other hand, a shoulder sling, a shirt and hooded jacket that looked too big for him, black scrub pants, a catheter bag, a black walking cast on his left foot and a black socks and sneaker on the other. His face was pale, his left eye was sporting a purple bruise, his nose was taped, and his hair was also messy and looked as if it could use a good wash. His grim appearance made his illness and presence all the more scary to Mel.

I bet he had a panic attack, most likely. Mel reasoned worriedly. I’m not sure why, though…

Wait. Mel thought, a realizing her like a ton of bricks. Maybe…maybe Dr. Langdon wasn’t expecting to see me here. Maybe he wasn’t expecting to see anyone from The Pitt here. I had heard that he was on a 72-hour psychiatric hold in the Pitt, but that’s obviously not the case anymore. When I was last at the hospital, there were rumors all over the place that he had left the hospital in the dead of night to go somewhere else, but I didn’t pay attention to them because rumors are distracting to me. Obviously, this place…it’s his secret. He doesn’t want others to know he’s here. He might have gotten afraid that I would tell others about his secret, but I’m not allowed to talk about being a volunteer here because that would make this safe space less safe for those who are here getting help for whatever they are struggling with…

When Dr. Abbot comes in, I need to ask him what to do about this because I did not mean to hurt Dr. Langdon. Mel thought grimly, suddenly feeling very tired and needing a break in the staff area before she started her volunteer shift in the salon. I need to go be by myself.

Exhaling nervously, Mel stepped away from the salon door and silently made her way to the desk. She found tears falling down her face as she leaned against the desk to breathe and compose herself and she wasn’t even sure why. She just felt the need to have a cry.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mel suddenly heard footsteps, “You having a bad day, Doctor King?” she suddenly heard Dr. Abbot ask in a soft, gentle tone. “If you need a minute…”

Swallowing hard, Mel sighed heavily, “I, um, was getting ready for my volunteer shift at the salon and I saw Doctor Langdon,” she revealed grimly. “He was being helped by Austin and David. I think he was having a panic attack. I think he may have seen me and worried that I was going to tell other people at The Pitt I saw him, but it’s against the rules to talk about what we see here…”

Silence.

Mel looked up and saw Dr. Abbot suddenly looking ashen, “I…I forgot today was one of the days you come in to volunteer in the salon,” Dr. Abbot realized grimly, sighing irritably before he offered her an apologetic look. “You know we’ve been short-handed at work with Doctor Robby taking time off and that’s made me quite a busy person lately. Plus, I didn’t think Doctor Langdon was gonna be well enough to be out of bed for another day. I’m so sorry…”

“I know you really can’t tell me anything about why Doctor Langdon is here and for how long, but is there anything I can do for him?” Mel asked softly, quickly figuring out that Dr. Abbot was very much involved with Dr. Langdon’s care. “Besides sending him into a panic attack?”

Dr. Abbot sighed heavily, “Let me talk to him about that,” he replied in a concerned voice. “I don’t want you to think this is your fault at all, okay? It’s not. I just want you to focus on taking a moment to breathe, cause you look like you’ve been crying and you don’t need to carry that sad energy to your shift, and then go do your shift in the salon if you can. Okay? I need to go help Doctor Langdon now, but I want to talk to you in the break room at the end of your shift…”

Mel nodded and Dr. Abbot offered her an encouraging thumbs up before he turned and hurried off into the medical care area. Sighing, Mel took another moment to breathe and compose herself before she felt ready to go to the salon and begin her shift as a volunteer hairdresser.

Frank most definitely has some sort of disability. Dr. Abbot thought grimly as he sat in a chair at Frank’s bedside silently reviewing the statements David and Austin had given about Frank’s unnecessary expression of guilt and moments of overstimulation in the room and outside before succumbing to a full-blown panic attack just outside the common room, an attack that had caused the man to slip into a brief catatonic spell for more than three minutes before remembering to breathe.

I don’t know what his disability is yet or how it can be addressed, but he may need more help than just Oliver. Dr. Abbot reasoned, quickly adding David and Austin’s written statements to the chart. Oliver is a good resource who alerts Frank to when there is a problem, but Frank’s brain shuts down after a point of trying to address the problem because it gets too overwhelmed, leaving Frank defenseless and at high risk for physical issues. He might need behavioral therapy or even medication, probably both, to help him stop getting to that point where his body shuts down on him. I’m definitely referring Frank for a disability assessment, and he can start that assessment process from his bed in here when he’s coherent enough…

A faint groan suddenly filled the air, followed by a weak sigh and Dr. Abbot looked up from his work just in time to see Frank open his eyes and silently take in his environment for a few minutes before their gazes met. Sadness suddenly filled Frank’s expression, but Dr. Abbot expected it, as he could immediately tell that Frank was on the verge of blaming himself for his collapse, but Frank suddenly closed his eyes and exhaled deeply instead of speaking.

“I…I only managed to use the mirror once today so far,” Frank suddenly spoke in a quiet, but nervous voice, not opening his eyes immediately. “I got distracted by my bag first and so many…so many thoughts about why I don’t need to unpack my bag yet…just flooded my brain. And then I saw the mirror and really fought with the words on the Post-its…”

Silence filled the room and Frank paused before opening his eyes, frowning when he saw that Dr. Abbot was resting his arms on the bedrail and simply sitting there looking relaxed, much like Dr. Shen had the night the Crisis Response Team came to get him from…

“I…I think I might be losing my mind,” Frank finished grimly, suddenly looking pained. “All that stuff I’ve been dealing with all day…it’s not normal. And then going on about it…when you didn’t even ask…that…that’s not normal either.”

Dr. Abbot, however, didn’t look bothered, angry, or even like he wanted to provide a lecture or reprimand, “All of this stuff going on with you, Phoenix, they are things beyond your control so don’t apologize for struggling with knowing how to deal with them and with yourself,” he finally replied gently. “It’s not your fault that you’re struggling. It is not your fault.”

Frank sighed tiredly, “What’s happening to me?” he asked weakly. “I don’t like it. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. If I knew what was wrong with me, I could…”

“What, punish yourself through self-harm or by letting yourself stay in a situation that you know is not good for you just so you have something to distract you from the fact that you don’t feel good?” Dr. Abbot asked in a concerned voice. “I’m not a psychologist, but I know for a fact that your mind was already going to dark places. I’ve seen it before in people I was in the hospital with: they think that they need to punish themselves for their struggles even though their struggles are not their fault. They just have them and don’t know how to deal with them, so they resort to self-harm or harmful behaviors. I think you’ve been dealing with struggles for a lot longer than you realize, but you blamed yourself and just found comfort in the bad, but the bad dominated your ability to make good choices and prevented you from being able to deal with your struggles…”

Frank frowned, “Can this…any of this…be fixed?” he asked in a quiet, slightly terrified voice.

Dr. Abbot nodded, “Well…I think you mean to ask if you can be helped because you are a person with struggles, not some mindless, soulless item that needs fixing after breaking,” he replied in a gentle, but firm voice. “Remember our little talk about toolboxes? Yours still needs to be built because in order to help you, we…meaning the care team, you, and I…need to first figure out what the issues are. That said, I’m referring you to Mental Health for a disability assessment…”

Frank’s eyes widened in fear, “Do you know how hard my life’s gonna be if I have a…?” he trailed off, not even able to utter the word disability because the world was not kind to those who had the word disability attached to them.

“Do you really know how hard your life already is because you’re not taking care of yourself the way you should, and you clearly don’t know how to?” Dr. Abbot replied in a firm tone. “Disabilities are not death sentences, Phoenix. If they were, I’d be dead already…or did you forget that I’m lugging around a prosthetic foot and PTSD? Those are disabilities that require me to use adaptive resources in order to live a life, but I haven’t stopped living.”

Frank suddenly felt ashamed of himself, as he had forgotten about Dr. Abbot’s physical and psychological issues. He had forgotten a lot of things about a lot of people while trying to battle for control of his life with his traumatic situation and his now broken mind. He had also forgotten about…

Mel. He needed to apologize to her. While trapped in the semi-conscious haze he had been in while David and Austin had been hustling back to his room for medical care, he had seen Mel looking at him, almost studying him, with a look of absolute horror on her face.

The whole idea of getting out of bed again, however, and trying to approach anyone, even Mel, for a conversation of any kind just made him feel very tired…tired enough that he closed his eyes and suddenly began to feel very sleepy

“I…I need to apologize…to Mel,” Frank breathed sleepily, as if speaking his want aloud would suddenly give him the energy to wake up and ask for a nurse and a chair and for Oliver to move from his spot on the bed.

God, that’s a huge list of to-do’s. Frank thought tiredly as he continued to lay there in semi-sleep. “I scared her,” he breathed in an even weaker, sleepier tone. “I have to fix it…”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea to do right at this moment given that you’re medically impaired and you think that Doctor King is scared and upset?” Dr. Abbot questioned softly, raising an eyebrow at Frank’s semi-awake form because he was definitely concerned about Frank suddenly finding energy and forcing himself into a situation that he couldn’t handle just to help himself less anxious about the pending disability assessment. “Or do you think you doing that right now would be harmful to both her and you?”

A sleepy sigh filled the air, “I…I think it would be harmful,” Frank replied sleepily, suddenly opening his mouth to let an intense yawn out. “It can wait. Please help me get it done…whenever…you think…it might be safe. Holy God…I’m tired. This day has been…too much. This day has been…too fecking much for me. I need it to be over.”

As Frank drifted off into a silent sleep, Dr. Abbot silently made sure that Frank’s good hand was resting firmly atop Oliver’s head, the oxygen tube was securely in Frank’s nose, and all monitors and IV’s were where they were supposed to be. He then stood up with Frank’s chart in hand and silently made some notes about his and Frank’s most recent conversation on a fresh page, including a very big note, which he wrote in all caps and underlined three times in a squiggly box, that he definitely recommended that Frank Langdon undergo a disability assessment by the care team the moment the man was coherent enough to participate in one.

Once his notes were complete, Dr. Abbot silently tucked the chart under his arm and quietly left the room because he had to update the care team on Frank’s setbacks, his recommendation for addressing the setbacks, and also speak with Mel privately about what she had seen that day.

“…If you could please go sit with Frank and do vitals checks every hour, Austin, I’ll have someone relieve you in four hours,” Mel heard a quiet, but concerned voice say as she entered the staff space after deciding that she couldn’t handle more than an hour of her shift that day because of seeing Dr. Langdon in such a horrific, semi-catatonic state. “You don’t need to wake him for the checks. I just want someone there if he wakes and wants to talk or even if he doesn’t. Keep supplies on hand as well as a pitcher of water and a glass…”

Mel paused, “…Just be gentle and patient,” she heard Dr. Abbot say softly. “I will see if I can get in to talk to the rest of the care team today and share my recommendations. We have to act as quickly as we can in getting a stronger support plan in place for him or we may very well lose him to catatonia permanently. Like, I am not fecking around when I say that…there’s a very real possibility of that happening if we don’t stop screwing around and combine his physical and mental treatment…”

Taken aback, Mel swallowed hard, covered her mouth, and stared at the floor in silence, shocked, concerned, and outright saddened by what she had overheard. She stood there for what seemed like forever before she suddenly heard footsteps approach and someone clear their throat softly. She looked up, saw Austin giving her a kind look, and quickly realized that she was blocking the door. Muttering a quiet apology, Mel moved aside, and it was then that she noticed Dr. Abbot silently making himself some tea using a Styrofoam cup, a tea bag, and hot water from the sink. She silently made her way over to the sink and quietly cleared her throat.

Dr. Abbot silently looked at her, “Um…you wanted to talk to me?” Mel asked softly.

“I just wanted to see how you were after seeing what you saw,” Dr. Abbot replied softly as he steeped his tea. “I know it was troubling, I know it was disruptive to your routine, and I know you process how you see the world and how you see people differently, so…you probably have some thoughts or feelings about what you saw. This is the safe space…hell, the only space…where we can discuss that stuff without breaking the center’s confidentiality rules…”

Mel nodded, “Doctor Langdon has communicated to me that he wants to personally apologize for scaring you,” Dr. Abbot stated in a quiet voice, giving Mel a look. “Or at least his intent is to apologize, but I don’t know how any sort of conversation between you and him will go. What I do know, though, is that it can’t happen right now because he is not well. It can maybe happen in a couple days once I get done what I need to do for him. I…”

“I’m not sure why he needs to do that,” Mel replied softly. “He’s sick…he looks sick…at least. I was just a little…surprised. I wasn’t offended. He’s not a bad person. He didn’t mean any harm.”

Dr. Abbot eyed Mel uncertainly and Mel sighed, “He had a panic attack, I think, but he also kind of reminded me of me and my sister…during the times that we get so overwhelmed that we can’t really do anything,” she observed quietly. “Do you think Doctor Langdon has a disability?”

“That I don’t know and even if I did, that’s medical information that can’t be shared without his permission,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “You say he reminded you of you and your sister, huh?”

Mel nodded, “Yeah,” she explained nervously. “I don’t always see my sister, so I don’t know when she has silent meltdowns, but I know there are times when I’m so overwhelmed by the world and by thoughts and things around me and I simply don’t know how to deal with all of it, so I go quiet. I sometimes even go to sleep for a while because I get so overwhelmed I get tired. Sleep, or even a quiet space… usually helps me be able to get on with my day. When Doctor Langdon had his eyes closed, though, he looked…not well. He looked like he wanted to throw up or have a seizure.”

Suddenly feeling grim, Dr. Abbot silently began to drink his tea as he silently contemplated what Mel had told him, “I’m assuming he’s got some sort of disability,” Mel commented softly, wondering why Dr. Abbot was suddenly so quiet. “How long has he had the service dog for? I remember seeing it at the hospital when he was there, but he never had it at work with him…”

“I’m not exactly sure what the story behind the service dog is,” Dr. Abbot replied quietly, figuring that Oliver had been named for Frank’s deceased child that had been killed in 2021. “Whatever it is, it seems like the dog helps him. Anyway, Doctor King, if you want to talk to Doctor Langdon about what happened today, can you wait a couple days? It’ll be better to do it in a couple of days when he’s more coherent and I can talk to him and prepare him…so today isn’t repeated.”

Mel nodded, her expression one of complete understanding, “I’m not surprised he reacted that way to seeing me,” she replied in a concerned voice. “I don’t like surprises either.”

Nodding, Dr. Abbot continued to sip his tea in silence and Mel sighed, “I, um, just came to tell you that I’m tired and I think I’m gonna go home,” she spoke softly. “Today was…a bit much.”

“Take care of yourself,” Dr. Abbot replied softly, completely unsurprised by Mel’s need to leave and go home to collect herself.

As Mel left, Dr. Abbot moved over to the phone and got on the phone with the care team to arrange a meeting, praying to whatever God was out there that they would take his recommendations seriously enough to act while they still had a chance of helping Frank.

Chapter Text

Frank slept for nearly another day before he woke, completely surrounded by darkness and quiet and solitude.

This can’t go on. Frank thought grimly, realizing that if he kept up his current pattern that resulted in him becoming overloaded by everything around him, losing falling into a deep sleep, there would come a day where he wouldn’t be able to reconnect with the world even if he wanted to. The catatonic spells were getting worse and more frequent, and he didn’t know what to do to make them go away or even if he could.

And then, despite the room being very dark, Frank suddenly caught sight of a fresh note on the portable table. His bag had also been moved out of sight, but the binder was still there, along with another binder, the mirror, a plastic 6-ounce glass that held a straw in it, and a tall plastic pitcher.

Deeply confused, Frank grabbed the note and began to squint at it in hopes of reading it in the dark. All of a sudden, however, a light flashed on above him and Frank looked up to see who had turned that on, as he certainly wasn’t capable of doing it, and he was shocked to see Lance Nelson from the Crisis Response Team silently take a seat beside his bed sporting a pair of blue scrubs and a light gray cardigan. Frank’s immediate thought was that Lance looked unnaturally tired, and almost like he could be borderline anemic, but maybe the young nurse had just had a long night, so he didn’t comment on it.

Lance, meanwhile, offered him a nod hello and a smile and then silently gestured to the note, indicating that they would not have a conversation until after he had read the note.

Exhaling softly, Frank focused on the note and suddenly stilled, his tired, anxious gaze softening as he read it.

Hey Phoenix,

It’s time to start getting you on a little bit of a self-care routine because you don’t know how to do it on your own and that’s okay. You are in a place that can help you with that. Anyway, we will start small, with three daily tasks, and work our way up from there. The only place left for you to go is up!

Frank Langdon’s Self-Care Prescription # 1 – must be applied daily, three times a day. No exceptions.

1. Drink 1 full glass of water three times a day. You may take your time drinking the water, but you will do it three times a day and the nurses will watch you to make sure you do. This will hydrate you and help give you physical energy.
2. Hold the mirror up so you are looking into it and say all three affirmations aloud three times a day. You may take your time doing it, but this will be done, and the nurses will be watching to make sure you do it. This will motivate your brain to start wanting to let you function in good ways.
3. Write in your journal three times a day. You don’t have to write very much but write something down three times a day. Again, a nurse will be watching you to make sure you do it. This will get your brain active, help you be able to express feelings and thoughts in a way that doesn’t necessarily require talking because I know that’s hard as hell for you to do right now, and this will keep your brain from getting overloaded and shutting down.

I also want you to remember to breathe. Even when you’re uncomfortable or triggered, remember to breathe. Breathing will keep you in reality and keep you from going into a catatonic state.

I got the go-ahead from the care team to start your disability assessment and also authorize some light physio for you along with a food diet. Food and exercise are fuel and without fuel, you will have no energy you can use to get well. We will talk about all that and a counseling schedule, though, when I come visit you. For now, do your tasks and stay in bed as much as you can. You can take Oliver outside with the nurses, but only if you feel up to it. Don’t be afraid to say when you don’t. They don’t mind taking him outside for you if you’re not well. They already feed him and get him water. They like him and the help that he is for you. What they don’t like, though, is that you are plainfeck not taking care of yourself as you should be. It’s okay to set boundaries for yourself and say no when you are feeling overwhelmed, as boundaries are self-care and that’s something you need to focus on…above all else.

You can totally do this, Phoenix! You can get well! I believe in you! Everyone here believes in you! You just have to get to the point where you believe in yourself!

Love,

Dr. Abbot

Completely taken aback, Frank eyed Lance nervously, but Lance didn’t look remotely surprised or concerned by his nervousness, “Um, I’d like some water, please,” Frank spoke softly, forcing himself to avoid asking for permission even though he very much wanted to. “And…I need help drinking it. I’ve got this thing on my hand…that makes it hard to hold stuff.”

Lance nodded, filled the glass with water from the pitcher, and offered an encouraging smile as he helped Frank to drink the entire glass. Once the glass was empty, Lance took the glass away and Frank took a moment to compose himself before reaching for the mirror. Looking in the mirror was hard for him, as his injuries and pallor were gruesome as hell to look at, but Frank made himself do it because he truly didn’t want himself to disappear even if he felt less than worthy of life at the moment.

“I…I…am…a…person,” Frank spoke in a quiet, shaky voice that was barely above a whisper as he stared at each little Post-it intently, his body trembling with anxiety as he uttered every word aloud. “I…I…am…a…good…person. I…am…enough.”

Swallowing hard, Frank silently returned the mirror to the table, picked up the journal and pen, dated a blank page, and silently began to write for several minutes. He needed to start taking responsibility for himself…even if he wasn’t ready to see people, as that might have the same result as what happened when he saw Mel…he needed to start using his words and what was left of his mind to start taking responsibility for himself. His notes in the journal were people he had hurt with his irresponsibility, the ways in which he had hurt them, and ideas of how he could settle things with them, even if it meant openly giving them permission to go on in their lives without his presence. He knew some had expectations that he would be back at work eventually, but he wasn’t ready to expect anything of himself yet except focusing on keeping himself alive. He was in recovery because life as he knew it was either unmanageable or outright gone. He couldn’t talk to anyone, obviously, as he could barely talk to anyone at the moment without getting overwhelmed, but he could text. He could text and…he needed to. He needed to start establishing boundaries that would make his recovery manageable.

“Um, I need my phone,” Frank spoke as he closed the journal. “I think I’m going to make a voice to text message for someone. Doctor Abbot…he mentioned how important it is for me to make boundaries, so…that’s an assignment I’m giving myself. You can supervise me if you really want to, but I need to do this and…start caring for myself…without pressure holding me back. I need to send a message to one person in particular so I can stop feeling…so scared to take my time.”

Nodding, Lance silently got up, went over to the bag that had been placed atop the dresser and fetched the phone out of the bag before returning to Frank’s bedside. Frank silently took the phone, accessed his Voice to Text program, and took a deep breath to compose himself before he began to speak. He knew Oliver was relaxing right next to him, so he needed to stay calm so the dog wouldn’t alert. The message I’m sending will be intense, but I need to stay calm and do it calmly. Frank silently told himself. This has to be done. I need to get the pressure off of me.

“Dear Michael, this is Frank…” Frank spoke in a quiet voice, exhaling softly as he held the phone up to his mouth so it could capture what he wanted to say and put it in writing for Robby to read. “I know you’re probably not expecting or wanting to hear from me, but I need to talk to you in a way that won’t overwhelm me. For my sake and for yours…”

Even though Robby had just taken three days off where he had done nothing but veg in his apartment, he was not rested or refreshed.

After getting drunk the first night and crying to Oliver’s ashes and crying over the picture on his mantel, he had just spent time brooding in bed while attempting to sleep and only getting up to pee, eat, and consider booking himself in for therapy while pacing his apartment wondering what the hell had happened to Frank and why he had felt the need to flee like a thief in the night. He hadn’t communicated his need to leave. He had just left. And Robby was angry and more than a little hurt. And sad. He felt like he was mourning Frank’s death, except that Frank was still very much alive…at least Robby hoped Frank was still alive and hadn’t succeeded in killing himself. God knows he tried it and talked about it enough. Robby thought grimly, lowering his head to briefly compose himself before he looked back up at the work on his screen.

His stormy mood must have been evident on his face because nobody in the ED talked to him or even tried to approach him like they usually did when he came in in the mornings.

That, however, suited Robby just fine and he settled himself at a computer to review old charts because he knew he wasn’t in any mood to see patients and make them feel safe. And he didn’t have to see patients immediately: he was in a supervisory role and could take his time getting to patients while still getting productive work done.

A soft buzz suddenly filled the air, and Robby felt his pocket vibrate. Sighing irritably, Robby got his phone out of the pocket of his scrub pants and looked at the caller ID.

Suddenly, everything became very quiet, and Robby found himself locked in a silent haze even though he knew he was sitting in the middle of the busy ED with chaos going on around him.

Frank Langdon has sent you a text message. Robby silently read on his phone screen.

Forcing himself to breathe, Robby silently got his glasses on, accessed the text message and began to read it silently, too spellbound and too scared to speak. He had absolutely not expected this…not at all. Three days of absolute silence and then this.

Dear Michael,

I know you’re probably not expecting or wanting to hear from me, but I need to talk to you in a way that won’t overwhelm me. For my sake and for yours, I need you to relax and stop expecting that I will come back to The Pitt soon or even at all. I need time and space to figure out my life and figure out who I am, what I want, and what I am able to handle.

Every day that I was a patient in The Pitt, I was so suffocated by anxiety and the expectations of others and a lot of really other things that didn’t make sense to me even though I wanted them to. I did not know how to communicate how I was feeling because I didn’t feel like anyone cared and simply saw me as a burden and a chore or a dangerous person they needed to avoid.

I was drowning so much in my own crap and people’s reaction to my crap that I actually attempted suicide, for the love of God. I was too overwhelmed to think of any other way out of drowning besides something bad and permanent simply because I didn’t know what else to do. I gave up and walked away because I could feel I was wearing you and everyone else down with my actions, my lies, my broken life, and the hurt I caused everyone because my two worlds collided in a way that caused a lot of people to get hurt and nearly got people killed.

I’m starting to understand that I’m definitely broken and that something very serious is wrong with me, something I can’t fix on my own and something that definitely can’t be fixed while jammed up on a 302 hold in the chaos of The Pitt where I don’t have any real connection with anyone anymore, even you. I killed my relationships there because I did not take responsibility for anything that I could have owned, and I let myself live unsafely to the point where it hurt other people and myself. I killed whatever we had, and I broke your heart, as well as my own. To me, taking responsibility involves owning what I can control, apologizing for harm I’ve caused, and establishing boundaries for myself and with others that will help me become better.

I am sorry I hurt you. Out of all the people I have hurt, I have hurt you the most and I’m sorry. I know I’m not a safe person to be around. I’m trying to believe I’m a good person, but I might not be safe for you to be around, so I am inviting you to let go of me and whatever we had. I’m not telling you, as I don’t think anyone can tell you what to do and get away unscathed, I am inviting you to free yourself from me. I am inviting you to let go of me so you can feel better, so you can heal, and so there’s not any pressure on me to get back to what I was to you…what I meant to you…because I am really not sure I can do that. I cannot be what you expect me to be. Not anymore and never again. I can only start over and invite you to let me go and walk away because you may not like who I become, and you may not like the pace I will have to go just to remain healthy and mentally stable. It’s not going to be like it was. I feel like the ghost I’ve been has died. My old self is dead. It’s gone and it’s not coming back…but maybe someone new can.

That said, if I decide to come back into work at some point and back into your life at some point, I will need accommodations in order to be successful. I will need patience in order to be able to function. I will need grace in order to have good days. I know I am asking a lot. I am asking for what I need though, and I know it may be more that you are able and willing to give…so hence, I’m letting you know that you are welcome and free to walk away for your peace. For my peace and my mental safety, I’m being open and honest with you. This is hard, as I am so far from being well it’s not even cute and I might be here for a while, as they’re talking a long-term care plan and a disability assessment, but I am finding myself okay with that. I know I need to be here to get what I need, and it’s not going to be a quick or easy fix. Me getting better is going to take time…time that you might not have to spare. It hurts my heart to write all this stuff down, but…these are things that have to be said and said clearly now that I understand my needs.

If you need to let go of me…if you need to give up on me, I will understand. It will hurt, but I will let you give up on me and I sure as hell won’t fight it or try to stop you. I will respect your need for boundaries, and I will respect your want to let me go. I care for you so much. Hell, I may even love you, but if you need and want to let me go, I will let you and I won’t hate you for it.

Frank

Tears immediately filled Robby’s eyes, and he covered his mouth to keep from sobbing aloud as he sat there reading and re-reading the text. It made him realize he had not been a good friend at all even though he had promised Frank back when they had used to hang out before Oliver’s death that they would always be friends…and that distance, that disintegration of what had been left of their closeness after Oliver’s death…none of it was Frank’s fault. Frank had been abused, forced into a game of pretend that nobody should ever have to play in their life, had been grieving, was still probably grieving, and most likely had trouble expressing all of his problems and need for help due to his brain not working the same way as a typical brain worked.

Robby had seen Frank’s quirks manifest themselves at work and he had seen them pop up more than once, but he hadn’t thought it might be due to a disability. He had just thought Frank was just weird and socially awkward, but he hadn’t cared to check into the behavior more deeply because Frank had managed to do his job competently enough…until they had had their blowouts. Frank’s response, prior to being attacked in the park…his inappropriate, impulsive comments and his endless anxiety. Those, Robby knew, were reason enough he should have consulted the DSM or at the very least, tipped off Psych and Gloria that Frank might need caring attention. Hell, Frank’s responses even after the attack had been clear indicators…

I’m a doctor, for God’s sake. Robby thought darkly, now barely able to read the text because he was crying so hard. I’m a doctor and I broke the rule of doing no harm. I did plenty of harm.

Feck. Robby thought as got up while still continuing to cry with a hand over his mouth. I am not going to be able to work right now. I need some time alone on the roof to think.

Ignoring the stares he was now getting from everyone, including a confused and concerned Dr. Abbot, who was just about to leave when he had noticed Robby start breaking down at the desk due to something on his phone, Robby continued to sob and stormed off towards the elevators that would take him to the roof and privacy.

Robby was so worked up that he didn’t realize his phone had slipped out of his grip near the elevator and was now on the floor. Dr. Abbot, however, did notice and silently wandered over to it, now deeply curious and concerned about what had caused Robby to have such a spectacular meltdown at work. After checking to make sure it hadn’t broken, Dr. Abbot looked at the screen curiously and his eyes widened at seeing the massive text message from Frank in which Frank took a lot of personal responsibility for things that had happened, and admitted he had things he needed to work on.

Frank, to Dr. Abbot’s surprise, had also invited Robby to walk away if he couldn’t handle the way things would have to be with him now and the slower pace that came with the changes he was currently making. Phoenix is setting boundaries. Dr. Abbot realized, deeply pleased that Frank had actually listened and applied the counsel he had been given. He is caring about himself and about his future enough to admit that it can’t be things can’t be the same as they used to be and he is also telling people that he can’t be what they expect him to be and that he is okay if they need to walk away for their peace. Oh, my God. I am so incredibly proud of him.

Robby’s reaction to the text, however, concerned Dr. Abbot greatly and he found himself following his friend, knowing full well that the man was headed straight for the roof to cry.

The message had gone through, meaning Robby hadn’t blocked his number yet, but Frank wasn’t focused on caring about whether or not Robby had blocked his number.

Frank was focused on the fact that he had spent at least the last 15 minutes pouring very deep thoughts, desires, and his understanding of his current reality into a voice-to-text message along with expressing his need for certain accommodations and boundaries for whatever he would become…for whatever his life would become. His need for people, for Robby, to let his former self go, drop all expectations attached to that, and really decide if they wanted to continue knowing him, was a strong boundary that he had managed to express verbally to at least one person without throwing up or without shedding a single tear, but it had been taxing to do and he was tired. I will have to eventually write others the same type of letter I wrote Robby, but others can wait. Frank thought tiredly as he allowed himself a deep breath. I can wait to talk to others.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asked softly, absolutely blown away by the giant mental step that Frank had just taken.

Frank sighed tiredly, “I’d love a glass of water,” he replied in a tired voice, fighting every urge he had to simply drop into sleep. “That made me so tired and even a little sad, but I have to…I have to take care of myself before I can process…what I just did.”

Offering an encouraging smile, Lance got Frank his water and held the cup for Frank while he drank through the straw. Once the water was gone, Frank silently picked up the mirror and studied himself briefly before sighing.

“I am…a person,” Frank spoke in a quiet voice that was barely above a whisper as he stared at each little Post-it intently, his body suddenly feeling warm and empowered as he uttered every word aloud. “I am…a good person. I am…enough.”

Swallowing hard, Frank put the mirror back on the table and took the journal. He only wrote a small collection of words on the page before he exhaled, suddenly feeling very tired.

I can breathe. I feel free to breathe. I can move forward at my pace now. I can let my old self die peacefully and actually feel good about recovery now. I can start to feel good…about me.

A yawn escaped Frank’s lips, so he quickly returned the journal to the table before he fell asleep and dropped it, “I think I need to take a little nap,” he admitted shakily, offering Lance a look of pure relief as tears filled his eyes. “I’m not even feeling sick or sad. I’m just relieved, but…all of that…it’s made me tired. Letting a self die…a self that doesn’t work…and replacing it…with a self that can work…and actually choosing to let that self grow…it takes a lot of energy…”

Nodding, Lance found himself looking very pleased and on the verge of happy tears himself while watching Frank rest his hand on Oliver’s head and start talking to the golden retriever softly while petting him. After a moment, Frank exhaled and closed his eyes to sleep as he was suddenly bathed in warm rays of light from the rising sun, intense, loving, welcoming beams that were streaming through the window.

Lance smiled and watched Frank sleep for a moment before getting up to stretch and he actually found himself sitting in the window seat to put together the night’s notes so that he could more fully bathe in the sun as it rose.

“Morning, my knight in shining armor,” a gentle voice suddenly cooed from the door in an affectionate, but quiet tone as Lance finished his notes and laid back against the wall to sleep.

Lance, however, remained resting because even though Frank’s night had been decent and his early morning had gone very well, he himself was exhausted. Unnaturally exhausted.

A hand with a wedding ring on it suddenly touched his forehead, as did a gentle pair of lips, and Lance opened his eyes to see David kneeling beside him looking worried, “I know,” Lance spoke softly, reaching out and stroking David’s face with a hand that also had a ring on it. “I know I was told to watch for symptoms of recurrence. I’m going to go home, take a shower, and then go see someone to make sure…that it’s not back.”

“Are you gonna tell Doctor Abbot?” David asked in a concerned, but quiet voice as he carefully helped his husband to his feet. “I know you lost your mind a little bit when you were stuck in isolation at home because of your treatments and I had to work with the street teams, but that doesn’t mean you get to shut down and shut me out when you get a warning sign. Besides, Doctor Abbot may only volunteer his time when he is here, but he is still our boss in the medical area cause we’re very short on doctors here…”

Lance scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I didn’t lose my mind,” he replied softly, offering his husband a mock glare. “It was long gone before COVID. My mind…my sanity disappeared the Christmas Eve my ultra-religious parents kicked me out on the street with a duffel bag for wanting to marry you and not a woman. Thank God our beautiful friend and volunteer boss Doctor Abbot helped us find an open church on New Year’s Eve that year so we could get married even though we had no spare money for anything fancy and he even invited that weird, scruffy looking doctor friend of his to our thing so we could have two witnesses. It was hilarious when that scruffy guy actually ended up treating us all to a meal at Denny’s so we could have a wedding supper and he and Doctor Abbot actually fought about who would pay for the meal. I’m so glad Doctor Abbot’s been kind of looking after us since we started working here, but if I'm sick again…”

Sighing anxiously, David silently snatched Frank’s chart from Lance’s hand, set it on the window seat, led his husband into the hallway, and wrapped him in a hug, “Then I would still be your husband, he would still be your friend, and we would both fight like hell to get you through treatments and back into a state of remission,” David replied reassuringly. “Again. We’re finally out of debt from the first time you had them and we have insurance here, so it won’t drown us financially to get you taken care of. Do you remember that article we saw in the one paper I brought home to you because you were bored and needed something new to read? The one about the gay healthcare workers and those kids of theirs? I don’t know if they were actually a couple or not, but they were close to each other and they made that clear by saying what they said in the article. They also spoke about being each other’s rocks and security. We are that to each other. We will be that to each other even if you are sick again. Do you want me to see if I can swap shifts with someone and go with you to be support for you while you get checked out?”

“No, I’m just going to get an Uber down to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital because I’m feeling really tired and if I pass out, that’s the best place for me to be. Besides, our insurance only works at that hospital,” Lance replied softly. “Aren’t you on this morning? You know they’ll get pissed at you if you try and swap or miss a shift. We’re so shorthanded right now…everywhere is.”

David nodded and gently kissed Lance’s face, “If I end up needing to stay for a bit for medical care, I might not text you because you know they won’t let you leave your shift early due to the staff shortage and we can’t afford for both of us to be off work, but I will be open with you about everything they tell me when we can talk again,” Lance replied gently as he wrangled out of his husband’s arms. “Go to work. I love you, my noble king.”

“Love you too, my lovely knight in shining armor,” David replied softly, smiling at Lance before he silently walked into Frank’s room to begin his shift at Frank’s bedside. “If you end up needing to stay, I put the phone numbers of our friends from church in the street team in your phone…”

Lance, meanwhile, silently ordered an Uber on his phone as he left the area and gathered his bag and jacket from the staff room, collected a mask from his bag, and masked up before he went outside because he didn’t want to risk exposure to anything in the Uber or down at the hospital. He didn’t wear a mask when working with Frank, as he didn’t want to risk disrupting the man’s recovery or make him feel like he was diseased or dangerous, but he wore a mask when he was working with other patients, when he was on Crisis Response Team duty, or went elsewhere in the city to protect himself from exposure to other illnesses.

As Lance left the center to catch his Uber, he found himself thinking about Frank Langdon and how there was now hope that Frank could recover now that he had started giving himself permission to control his life. He also found himself hoping that his own recovery could be as smooth, as it was a continuing recovery and such a recovery required constant vigilance.

The sight of Robby leaning against the bar that separated the safe part of the roof from the ‘danger zone,’ silently gazing downward as he sobbed his heart out made Dr. Abbot feel sad, but determined to help…if Robby would let him, that is.

“How did I miss all the signs?!” Robby cried angrily as Dr. Abbot quietly approached him from behind and then lingered beside him within view. “For the love of God, Jack. I am a fricking doctor! I didn’t fully understand the situation with Frank and pushed him away and then he sends me a novel after three days of me thinking he died! He mentioned a disability assessment and we have those here! I could have got the ball rolling for him if I had just paid attention and showed a little fecking compassion!”

Dr. Abbot sighed patiently, knowing he couldn’t mention that he already knew all about Frank’s struggle because of the confidentiality rules at Blue Mountain Wellness Center. He could, however, be a friend to Robby and that was what Robby appeared to need at the moment.

“You dropped your phone downstairs,” Dr. Abbot stated, holding the phone out to Robby. “I…I…I couldn’t help but notice your little cry.."

Robby sighed tiredly as he took the phone and tucked it into the pocket of his scrub pants, “I’m pretty sure the whole department noticed my little cry,” he replied in a shaky voice, exhaling deeply in an attempt to compose himself. “I was just doing computer work and just trying to get into a state of mind where I could see patients and all of a sudden, I get a text from Frank. Three fecking days of me thinking Frank was dead and then he suddenly sends me a novel-length text message…”

Dr. Abbot raised an eyebrow as Robby exhaled, “Do you want to read it?” Robby finally asked in an anxious voice, his expression pained as he looked at his friend. “I…maybe you can help me understand it. It sounds like…I’m not sure.”

Even though he was already familiar with the text message and had his own thoughts on it, Dr. Abbot nodded politely and accepted the phone when Robby offered it. He pretended to skim through the message with a thoughtful expression on his face as Robby watched and then he sighed, “This is not rocket science, Mike,” he replied simply. “It just seems like Doctor Langdon is coming to terms with what’s happened to him and he’s understanding that he can’t go back to who he was before it happened. He has to reinvent himself, but he knows that will take time to do and he’s aware that not everyone will have the time or desire to wait or him while he works on becoming a new version of himself. He respects people enough to invite them to cut him off if they don’t have the time to wait for him to become a new version of himself and he respects himself enough to want only those who are patient enough…”

“So this is a test?” Robby asked softly, frowning at Dr. Abbot. “He’s testing me?”

Dr. Abbot shrugged, “He might be,” he replied softly, trying to make sure he toed the line regarding confidentiality. “I’m not sure.”

Robby sighed tiredly, “Is this the universe giving me a second chance to make things right after I screwed up being there for him after Oliver died?” he asked in a hopeful tone. “I tried for a while, but he just didn’t engage with my efforts and I thought he just didn’t care about us anymore, so I just distanced myself. If I had known what was really been happening to him, things would have not gotten to where we are now. Have I lost him forever because of…how I handled that?”

“I think if you are patient with Doctor Langdon, you can regain that connection with him,” Dr. Abbot replied thoughtfully, suddenly finding it very interesting that out of all the people Frank could have contacted, he chose to reach out to Robby via a very deep letter before anyone else.

Nodding, Robby quickly turned his attention to his phone and began to write a small, but meaningful response…or what he hoped was a meaningful response…to Frank’s letter.

‘I can’t and won’t give up on you, I won’t walk away from you even if you have a disability. Don’t give up on us or on yourself. Just hang in there. Whoever you become is good enough for me. I’ll love you and care for you even if you take a while to come back to me. Take all the time you need. I’ll wait forever. I value your presence in my life too much to simply walk away.

Quickly hitting ‘Send,’ Robby exhaled and stood up, “I need some sugar,” he spoke shakily.

“7-Eleven’s just down the street,” Dr. Abbot offered softly. “I could go for a Slurpee. Or do you want me to text DoorDash and get Marco to bring us Slurpees up here?”

Robby shook his head, “I need the walk,” he replied in a calmer tone. “Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” Dr. Abbot replied in a kind voice, feeling like he was now saving two lives that both needed to be saved from things that they couldn’t yet help themselves or each other with.

Unfortunately, a tranquil walk to the nearly 7-11 was not in the cards for either of them that day.

As Robby and Dr. Abbot stepped off the elevator and re-entered the ED, they suddenly heard angry yelling, “…Is that kid gonna pay for vomiting in my car?!” an angry voice suddenly filled the air. “He threw up in the backseat of my beautiful, brand-new car that I got for work!”

Alarmed at hearing mention of vomiting, Dr. Abbot and Robby quickly made their way towards the yelling and saw that Dana and Mateo were trying to help a very pale young man sporting short black hair, blue eyes, blue scrubs, sneakers, a jacket, and a face mask on his chin, walk away from a pissed off looking guy that was lingering in Chairs looking ready to fight him.

“Hey, idiot, do you not see that this guy is sick?!” Mateo snapped, glaring back at the guy. "Get the hell out of here!"

Dr. Abbot froze in his tracks, immediately recognizing him as Lance Nelson, Crisis Response Team member and RN at Blue Mountain Wellness Center, but knew he couldn’t share how they knew each other because that would open another can of worms that might very well expose Frank’s stay as a patient at the center. He could, however, simply treat Lance without exposing how they knew each other…

“I…I don’t know what happened,” Lance spoke shakily as he tried to make sense of his chaotic surroundings, but found himself struggling to because of his fatigue. “I was feeling a little tired during nightshift, but I decided to wait and Uber here after…this is the only place that’ll take my insurance from work. I was just sitting in the back of the Uber not feeling good and it just came out and now I’m just feeling really gross and weak. Can I get a new mask, please?”

Feeling like he knew the young man from somewhere, Robby quickly changed course and followed Dana and Mateo into the ED as they helped the young man over to a curtained area and atop a gurney.

As Robby approached, Lance eyed him curiously, recognizing him from his and David’s wedding, but he didn’t say anything because he was too tired for a conversation, and he very much needed to lie down because the vomiting had made breathing difficult and he was suddenly unable to stay upright. Instead of communicating that, however, Lance silently slipped out of his jacket, laid down on his side, and closed his eyes in an attempt to help himself.

“Hey, um…” Robby spoke in a concerned voice. “Can you open your eyes and talk to us?”

Lance sighed weakly, but didn’t open his eyes, “Lance Nelson,” he replied tiredly. “I’m tired and I can’t breathe. Laying like this helps. I think I might be anemic. At least, I hope that’s all it is.”

Recognition suddenly filled Robby’s face as he remembered how, several years ago, Dr. Abbot had asked him to be a plus-one and a witness to a wedding for a couple named David Martin and Lance Nelson who were friends of his, engaged friends who had nobody else in their corner due to homophobia, “Oh my God,” Robby realized in a concerned voice. “You’re that Lance. I was at your wedding with Jack Abbot! I always wondered how you two were doing!”

“I ended up with testicular cancer a short while after we married and had to isolate a lot during COVID cause of my treatments and the side-effects while David worked with street teams,” Lance replied shakily. “I’m currently in remission. At least, I hope I still am. This stuff, though…”

Dr. Abbot suddenly came over to them from where he had been lingering, figuring that he and Lance could now converse without revealing they worked together, “Hey,” Dr. Abbot spoke softly. “I’m glad you remembered me from your wedding. Did you need me to call your husband?”

“No, he’s at work and there’s a major shortage of staff where we work, so he probably wouldn’t be able to come and we're not allowed personal calls during shifts,” Lance replied tiredly, wondering if simply talking would help him feel better, as he was beginning to feel short of breath as well as tired. “We do have a friend, though, that we met while doing work with the street team and we also go to church together sometimes with our friend cause we're all religious. He’s a friend who currently isn’t working right now and might be willing to come sit with me. He doesn’t start his new job til July and we were trying to talk him into volunteering at our workplace so he could keep his people skills up, but then he got hurt in a shooting that was at Riverview Park about week ago and doesn’t really feel up to going out a lot of the time. Maybe he’ll come to sit with me, though…”

Robby raised an eyebrow, wondering if Lance was referring to Whitaker, “Do you have this friend’s name and number handy?” he asked softly. “If you give it to one of us…”

“It’s in my phone,” Lance replied softly. “Hold on.”

Robby and Dr. Abbot and Dana and Mateo watched as Lance struggled to pull his phone out of the pocket of his scrub pants. When he finally got it out, however, he didn’t hand it over. He simply left it on his leg, “His name is Dennis,” Lance spoke weakly. “Dennis Whitaker.”

Robby quickly took the phone and scrolled through the Contacts until he found Dennis’s number, quickly pressed CALL and held the phone to Lance’s ear, “Hey…hey, Denny?” Lance spoke in a shaky, slightly breathless voice when Whitaker answered the phone. “It’s Lance. I…I’m at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital and David’s at work. I’m scared, Denny. I know you’re still not feeling too great and probably don’t wanna go anywhere, but can you read me some Bible verses on…on the phone? Like…the ones we discussed at church…?”

All of a sudden, Lance felt the discomfort in his chest increase and he began to cough to try and improve his breathing. Robby quickly took the phone away, “Get a set of vitals and get him into a gown,” Robby ordered quietly as he moved away from the bed. “I’m sorry, Dennis, but Lance isn’t feeling very good right now. If you wanna tell me the verses, though, I can write them…”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can get the bus,” Dennis’s voice filled the phone. “I have to get comfortable going out and I have a counseling session later anyway. Give me half an hour.”

Before Robby could ask Whitaker if he was sure if he felt up to coming, Whitaker ended the call.

Not sure what to make of Whitaker’s abrupt response, Robby turned his attention back to Lance just in time to see Mateo and Dana hold him up so they could dress him in a gown. Lance’s scrub shirt and jacket and bag had been stacked in a pile on the nearby portable table. Once Lance was dressed, Mateo put an oxygen tube in his nose before he and Dana returned him to his previous position and covered him up with a blanket. To Robby’s surprise, Dr. Abbot suddenly approached the bed and crouched down beside the gurney with his eyes on Lance.

Robby watched silently as Dr. Abbot and Lance talked softly for a few minutes before Dr. Abbot nodded, patted Lance’s hands reassuringly, and then stood up, “Just relax,” Dr. Abbot spoke in a gentle, reassuring voice as he moved away from the bed. “You’ll be well cared for here.”

Robby raised an eyebrow as Dr. Abbot approached him, “His husband can’t get away from work, but I know where the guy works and so I’ll go talk to him personally. That way, he at least knows what’s happening,” Dr. Abbot explained in a calm voice. “I’m off work now anyway.”

Even though Robby was starting to suspect that Dr. Abbot knew Lance and his husband a little bit more than he was letting on, he nodded and remained calm because there was no point in reading more into the situation. Dr. Abbot, Robby reasoned, could simply have friends in many places, as the guy filled his days with catnaps, volunteering, and other activities where he was likely to meet with and connect with people by the dozen.

Sighing anxiously, and also deeply relieved that Robby had simply agreed to let him go find Lance's husband on his own without prying, Dr. Abbot left and as he walked outside into the daylight, he hoped there would be a nurse available to sit with Frank so he could pull David aside have a private conversation with him about Lance’s current health situation without disrupting the very orderly workflow of the heavily understaffed wellness centre.

Chapter Text

“…Um, I talked with the facility supervisors about it, and they offered me about an hour break so I can get some counseling and someone’s waiting to talk to me, but the supervisors need me to do my whole shift today and have my head in the game…”

“…Well, go do your counseling then and then take a moment to breathe after…”

A quiet sniffle greeted Frank as he slowly came to, and he opened his eyes just in time to see David suddenly hug Dr. Abbot and cry quietly on his shoulder.

“Is…is everything okay?” Frank asked in a tired voice before he could stop himself, as the physician part of him was seeing somebody in distress and wanted to help even though he knew his current physical and mental limitations wouldn’t let him be very helpful. “Can I help at all?”

David suddenly froze and pulled away from Dr. Abbot before he gazed at Frank with a surprised expression on his face, “Oh, Frank, I…I didn’t know you were awake,” he spoke nervously, trying his best to stay composed for Frank’s sake. “Um, my…my husband’s in the emergency room cause he’s not feeling well today, and work won’t let me out early so I can go be with him…”

Frank blinked, memories of his struggles with a ‘sick’ spouse suddenly coming to the forefront of his tired, fragile mind, “As someone who has…had…a sick spouse that I couldn’t help, I…I get how rough you must be feeling right now,” he replied softly, unable to help but wonder if he would have been able to be a better help to Abby and her problems if he hadn’t been run into the ground by the demands that working in a COVID-plagued hospital had placed upon his time, leaving him with helper’s fatigue and PTSD that had made him seek support from Robby. “If…if you ever need someone to talk to…”

Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, remained silent with a neutral expression on his face, but he was secretly pleased that Frank had outright acknowledged his wife’s problem, her death, and his inability to help her for the first time since everything had gone to hell for him.

David nodded, took a small breath, and quietly composed himself, “Thank you,” he replied softly, warmed by Frank’s kindness and want to help even though his own abilities were currently limited. “My supervisor said I can take an hour break to compose myself and so I’m gonna go do that. I’ll be back.”

Once David had left the room, Frank sighed tiredly, “Abby wasn’t just into drug sales and sampling product,” he spoke quietly as he gazed off at the untouched bag on the dresser. “She also liked to drink after Oliver died and I’d even sometimes offer to buy stuff for her just so I could get a moment to myself out of the house and know where she was, as she’d have to stay home with Tanner while I went shopping. We never had money cause booze costs money and a lot of booze costs a lot of money, so I moonlighted during COVID here and there. I had my medical license, so I was pretty useful wherever they needed help. She was only sober and clean when she was pregnant with Maria cause she thought the baby was a replacement for Oliver and wanted her to be perfect. Once Maria was born…boom, back on the stuff she went…”

Frank suddenly closed his eyes and exhaled, “This is not helpful,” he spoke tiredly.

“Talking is actually very helpful,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly. “You just gotta take your time with it and not approach too much at one time. You’re still in a fragile state, so you gotta just go easy on yourself. Actually…I wanted to talk to you about that. Could you open your eyes for me?”

Frank did and frowned when he saw Dr. Abbot sitting next to his bed and the portable table looking like he wanted to approach a heavy topic. On the portable table sat a bowl of something and a spoon and it sat next to the water. The sight of food actually made Frank feel sick, but he didn’t dare say a word because he knew he had to at least listen to what was being offered before reacting. Being impulsive will only hurt me. Frank told himself tiredly.

“It’s time for you to start eating actual food again, Phoenix,” Dr. Abbot spoke softly. “One half-bowl of something pureed three times a day and we’ll do that for about a week and then do some bloodwork to see where we’re at. We’ve been doing bloodwork and vitals checks on you constantly since you showed up and the nutritional IV’s…they’re keeping you alive, but not really getting you to the point you should be at physically at your age. I know you’ve been through a lot, and we’re still working on sorting you out, but you’re going to have to push yourself a little if you want to have any chance in hell of ever getting out of here…”

Frank raised an eyebrow, “And back to work?” he asked uncertainly. “Is that what’s expected?”

“You don’t have to worry about work right now,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, determined to redirect Frank’s thinking before things got bad. “In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t cause it will only make you feel pressured to go faster than you currently have the strength to. Your goal, something that should be your only goal right now, is to recover so you can actually be out of here and in the world again. You are not at that point yet, by the way, and my recommendation at this point, based on what I’ve already seen, is that you do a 60-day program and then reassess. That will allow you to really take your time and make sure you have the tools you need to really take care of yourself. After that, if you’re okay to be discharged, I’d also recommend you and your kids live in the DCFS Family Shelter for a while before you start your house hunting and trying to live on your own cause the shelter has physical and mental health resources for families…families who can’t go home. That place will give you a way to get used to living with your kids again and being a parent again in a safe environment, an environment where good help will be available if you find yourself overwhelmed.”

Frank sighed, “Is it like the homeless shelter downtown?” he asked warily, nervous about the idea of living at another shelter. “I’ve been there and it’s pure hell…and so overwhelming.”

“No, the DCFS Family Shelter is for families and only open to those who are referred there by social workers, counselors, or doctors,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly. “Again, you aren’t at the point where you should be thinking about that or worrying about your kids. Just focus on you right now. Focus on what I just asked you to do. Eat food. That will help your recovery a great deal.”

Frank eyed the bowl uncertainly, “What’s on the menu today?” he asked softly, suddenly feeling grim about the reality of how long he would need to be at Blue Mountain Wellness Center for. “The food…not everything else. 60 days…that is a very long time, but I…I guess I need it.”

“Applesauce,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “Do you want to try feeding yourself or…?”

Frank shook his head and held up his hand, which had a new IV line and clip on it and was trembling slightly, “I’m plainfeck not ready,” he admitted shakily. “I would like to try taking Oliver outside again, though, and maybe even getting my hair washed later. It’s disgusting.”

“Even if you might see Doctor King again?” Dr. Abbot asked softly, carefully watching for how Frank would react to the mention of Mel.

Frank shrugged, “It’s fine,” he replied softly after briefly testing the idea in his mind and finding no anxiety stemming from it. “She…she’s not going to hurt me. She washed my hair when I was in The Pitt. I might not feel up to talking to her, but…she can wash my hair if she wants to. In fact, I kinda prefer if she was the one to do it cause my head…it still hurts sometimes…and she’s gentle. Does she do hair here a lot? If I have to wait, I can try to, but…”

“I, um, think she’s actually going to be here later today to wash hair,” Dr. Abbot said softly.

Frank nodded and promptly winced, “I’ll eat, but…I’m getting a headache from moving my head around so much,” he admitted shakily. “I don’t think I should get out of bed today. I’ll do the water and the mirror and the journal, but later. I already did all that stuff twice this morning, but my head…and my eyes…need to just rest for a while. I’ve been…doing too much for someone with a concussion and a skull fracture…and this is the first time I’m actually feeling it.”

“I can always get Doctor King to come to you,” Dr. Abbot replied softly, pleased that Frank was actually taking a moment to acknowledge he was still very much injured and needed to slow himself down to a tolerable pace. “First, let’s get some food into you and then I’ll get you some Tylenol so you can sleep for a while. We’re not only putting you back on food, we’re also gonna minimize use of sedatives. We’re not some backwoods mental hospital trapped behind a tall gate or some emergency room where we sedate those who express discomfort. We talk about discomfort with patients first and then offer aid that will not prove overwhelming to them later. Sedatives can…well, they can prove overwhelming, especially when a patient wakes and realizes they were sedated.”

Frank sighed, went quiet, and eyed the food to the point where Dr. Abbot could tell that Frank simply wanted to eat, take the offered Tylenol, and go to sleep before his pain became unbearable, but he was having trouble expressing those wants verbally. Deciding that they could approach that later, Dr. Abbot silently loaded the spoon with applesauce and gently began to feed Frank, not even bothered that the man hadn’t noticed he was wearing a feeding apron, which was there so a mess wouldn’t occur on Frank’s clothes.

As he thought of the clothes, Dr. Abbot silently decided it was also time to get Frank a few clean clothes now that it had been clearly established that Frank would need to stay there a while and he had openly accepted that as fact. Frank, however, had been wearing the same shirts for days and had no spare shoes or pants and couldn’t possibly do very well in the center for the next 60 days with no changes of clothes. Dr. Abbot silently promised himself that when he had a moment, he would see if the police would be able to release Frank’s things from Evidence or if he and Dana would need to pool some money together and just get Frank some new stuff.

The Pitt was unusually quiet by the time Whitaker arrived at the ED after the bus had been delayed in getting to his stop and he had needed a moment to breathe after getting off at the stop near the hospital. Santos had decided to go run errands for herself and the apartment that day and had left him alone to rest, so he had left her a note explaining where he had gone.

Whitaker had originally planned to sleep until his session, as he was still very low on energy and his prescribed pain meds made him very tired, but then Lance had called anxious, in need of support, and someone to read to him, so Whitaker had decided to try a new approach to his recovery: forgetting himself and simply being there for friends who wanted support. He had also spent a lot of time thinking about Frank, worrying about whether or not the man was okay, and had also wondered why Frank hadn’t bothered to call him, as they were supposed to be friends.

Santos, however, had made it clear that she didn’t like Frank or any mention of him, so Whitaker had kept his thoughts to himself. He also hadn’t bothered calling his parents about the attack, as they were busy with farm work that time of year and they would have only worried about him, insist he come home, and try to tell him that a career in medicine might be too much for him and Whitaker didn’t need that unwanted pressure or grief. He just needed to recover, get used to being outside so he could go to commencement without having a panic attack, and also slowly resume his life and embrace his future as a doctor.

“…Just keep breathing, Lance, and relax,” Whitaker suddenly heard Robby say gently. “We’re gonna keep in a couple warming blankets for a while cause your blood pressure’s low and you feel really cold, but don’t be scared. Just try not to move while they take your blood…”

Quiet whimpering suddenly filled the air and Whitaker quickly hurried towards the noise, arriving in the exam room just in time to see a pale Lance, who was covered in blankets, wearing a tube in his nose, and watching his arm fearfully, tense up while Mateo struggled to find a vein. Robby, meanwhile, was sitting next to the bed looking concerned and slightly helpless.

“Hey, Lance, um, let’s talk Psalms 23,” Whitaker spoke up gently as he approached the bed and gave his friend’s left foot a gentle squeeze. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…”

Robby suddenly looked intrigued as Lance sighed, looked away from Mateo, and at Whitaker with a tired expression on his face, “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters,” Lance spoke in a tired voice, exhaling weakly as he spoke. “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me…”

“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over,” Whitaker continued, giving Lance’s foot another squeeze. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

A relieved expression suddenly filled Mateo’s face as he found a vein and quickly got to work retrieving blood, “You’d think after undergoing surgery and rounds chemo for testicular cancer, I’d hate needles less, but they still scare the hell out of me,” Lance commented tiredly, offering Whitaker a faint smile. “You’re looking alive, Denny. How are you? Thanks…for coming.”

“I’m here,” Whitaker replied softly. “And don’t sound surprised that I came. If I was willing to put on 10 pounds of crazy HAZMAT gear so you could have someone sit with you while you were recovering from chemo sessions in your apartment and David was with the street teams…”

Robby looked surprised, “Chemo in your apartment?” he inquired. “Seriously?”

“I had my surgery in the hospital, but getting a chair in a chemo suite after the fact was a lot more complicated cause the hospitals were overloaded and we had no insurance for a clinic,” Lance explained softly. “And then the hospital finally sent this guy who’s barely a doctor over to give me the chemo drugs. I think his name was Frank Langdon. He was apparently moonlighting all over his hospital between shifts to make some cash for his family cause his oldest son died, his family needed money to deal with that, and he knew how to do enough medically to help me. I’d just chill on my couch and he’d give me the drugs and talk to me…”

Robby’s eyes widened slightly, as did Whitaker’s, but neither said anything and Mateo deliberately kept himself busy cleaning up Lance’s arm so he didn’t have to listen because what he was hearing was shocking him. Once he was done, he silently left with his pockets filled with blood vials and his mind reeling.

“…Frank was nice enough, but he had very sad eyes,” Robby suddenly heard Lance say softly.

Of course Frank was sad. He had just lost his oldest child to murder and was also still having to be a doctor during lockdown. Robby thought grimly. God, Frank would have been just an intern then and he was moonlighting between shifts and bringing people like Lance home care…probably so he wouldn’t have to be at home with Abby. I feel so mad now that I was just an absolute bastard after he stopped wanting to meet up…

“Um, Dennis, how’d you and Lance and David meet anyway?” Robby asked, deciding to break his silence before someone saw at him and asked why he was staring off into space.

Whitaker sighed, “Through Zoom church,” he replied softly. “When I first got here, a lot of stuff was still on Zoom, including church, and I needed something to boost my spirits. My academic advisor noticed I was depressed, so she gave me info about a church that met on Zoom. Lance and David were at the first meeting I went to and said even if I wasn’t spiritual, the company…”

“I think that was just around the time I was recovering from my surgery and we were trying to figure out a way to get me in for post-op chemo cause the hospitals were overloaded with COVID patients, but my memory’s a little fuzzy…” Lance replied tiredly, suddenly closing his eyes. “I’m feeling really tired, Denny. I need to sleep.”

Whitaker nodded and gave Lance’s foot a gentle squeeze, “I’ll hang out for a while,” he promised softly. “I just gotta talk to Doctor Robby for a minute, okay?”

Robby gave Whitaker a curious look, but followed him into the hall while Lance slept, “Um, Doctor Robby, I was wondering…is Frank feeling up to visitors today?” Whitaker asked curiously. “I heard he was on a special hold, but still…he’s gotta be lonely.”

Anguish suddenly filled Robby’s face and Whitaker froze, “Um, Dennis, Frank isn’t at the hospital anymore,” Robby replied in a pained, apologetic voice, cringing when an expression of concern suddenly filled Whitaker’s face. “While I was at yours and Santos’s place for supper a few days ago, Frank and Oliver were apparently picked up by a Crisis Response Team van and Doctor Shen let him leave. Doctor Shen said Frank apparently arranged private care elsewhere with help from Officer Hayes and Dana. I’ve been off for the last three days, so I don’t know where exactly Frank is now, but he sent me a text this morning. I’ll let you read it.”

As Robby got his phone out, Whitaker silently processed what he had just been told and quickly realized that he knew where Frank might be. The mention of the Crisis Response Team van is making me think…and remember…the times I sat with David and Lance, and we all talked about our lives when they were bringing me water and snacks on the street. They knew I was homeless, and they wanted to help, but their place was too small for a third person, so they’d make special runs from their work and do welfare checks on the homeless under the guise of checking on me. I would always take half of what they gave me and give the other half to Frank. Always. I also remember that during their runs, David and Lance told me that they were working at some wellness center in Mountain Heights and were out doing welfare checks on street people anyway, so it wasn’t a problem to visit me. What was that place called again? Blue Mountain…I think. Frank…he might be there. I’m pretty sure he is. Doctor Robby mentioned that Officer Hayes helped Frank. Maybe I could ask him. I don’t know if he’d tell me, but…

“Dennis?”

Whitaker blinked and immediately noticed that Robby was giving him a concerned look, “I’m fine,” he replied quietly. “Just a little tired. What’s in the text?”

Robby, however, gently offered his arm, which Whitaker took, “Come sit down,” Robby ordered firmly as he gently sat Whitaker down in the chair next to Lance’s bed. “You’re still recovering from being attacked. You need to be taking it easy. All right? The text is on here…”

Sighing, Whitaker took the phone that Robby offered him, “My energy’s still low, but the prescribed painkillers and antibiotics are doing their job,” Whitaker replied softly as he accessed the text and began to read it. “I just need to be able to go to commencement without a panic attack. I did school stuff on my laptop from my bed with someone over Zoom and using a virtual proctoring program when I took tests. The school…they arranged it after they heard I was attacked during the shooting in Riverview Park, and I was also told that my work during the PittFest shooting was being counted as my practical final cause apparently…some guy named Doctor Robinavitch told the school I did a little bit of everything during that incident.”

“I may have said something to that effect to the head honchos at the medical school,” Robby replied calmly, offering a nod and a concerned look. “I just want you to be able to take your time so you are okay to work as an intern by July. I know you might be pissed at me now…”

Whitaker sighed, “I’m not,” he replied softly. “I appreciate it. I’m just glad commencement isn’t til May, as that gives me some time. I…I had to take a moment after getting off the bus stop near the hospital before coming here, actually, because it was a little overwhelming for me to be outside. I wanted to be here for my friend, though. Plus, I’m still on daily counseling sessions and I have a session a little later…”

Suddenly, Whitaker closed his eyes and exhaled, as his healing body was beginning to ache from so much movement, “I just need a minute,” he spoke quietly. “I might actually have a little rest while Lance is sleeping. I know you can’t turn the lights off or close the door, but my counselor gave me sunglasses to help me relax if I get too anxious during the day. I keep them in my pocket…”

“I can get you a better chair or a cot so you can have head and neck support,” Robby offered softly, frowning as Whitaker pulled a pair of dark sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Do those work?”

Whitaker, however, didn’t reply and instead began engaging in quiet breathing exercises as Mateo returned to the room, “Hey, Mateo, will you please hang out for a moment?” Robby asked softly, giving Mateo a look. “I’m going to get a cot for Dennis so he can rest a bit.”

Mateo nodded, eyeing Whitaker worriedly. As Robby left the room, however, he noticed Whitaker suddenly stop his exercises and lean in towards the semi-sleeping Lance.

“If you know where Frank is and have seen him, please make sure he’s safe and well taken care of,” Whitaker whispered, his expression sad and worried. “He’s…my friend.”

Deeply mystified by Whitaker’s words, Robby quickly moved off to find him a cot and made a mental note to ask him if he knew where Frank was and if he was actually doing okay.

Canine whimpering suddenly filled the air, causing Frank to stir and immediately sigh. His bed had been lowered after breakfast and a dessert of two Tylenol so he could rest comfortably, but Oliver had his own needs and Frank immediately felt helpless and a little mad that he couldn’t meet the needs of his dog or even his own, but he quickly calmed himself by taking a quiet, but deep breath because he knew he couldn’t control how his body was choosing to recover.

“I’m sorry, Ollie,” Frank replied softly as he gently stroked the golden retriever’s head in an attempt to calm him. “I have to call somebody to take you out. I can’t go out today. I don't feel good enough to.”

The dog continued to whimper, so Frank used his eyes to look for the call button and sighed, being very careful not to move his head as he pressed it because the Tylenol had helped ease his headache considerably, but he didn’t want to overdo it and make himself feel worse.

Soon after, the sound of footsteps filled the air, but Frank didn’t try to get up, “Hi, whoever you are,” he spoke softly. “Um, I was wondering if you could please take Oliver out for me? I’m not feeling well, and Doctor Abbot lowered my bed and gave me Tylenols so I could sleep. I was sleeping off a headache until Ollie woke me up with his whining. I’d get up and do it myself, but I can’t and Doctor Abbot…he’s right. I need to start making decisions that won’t hurt me…”

“I think Doctor Abbot would agree with that very good show of awareness,” Dr. Abbot’s gentle voice suddenly replied in a gentle tone. “Still not feeling any better, Phoenix?”

Frank sighed, “No,” he replied softly. “I probably need more sleep.”

There was a brief silence, “Actually, something else also might help you if you’re willing to have a visitor,” Dr. Abbot’s gentle voice spoke kindly. “Remember our earlier conversation about your hair? You said you’d be all right if Doctor King came and did your hair, so I called her and asked her to come a little early so she could focus entirely on you before she did her actual shift. This way, neither of you will feel rushed. She can take her time, and you can just process everything as quickly or as slowly as you want…”

“Um, speaking of processing, do you know when I’ll be starting that disability assessment you mentioned?” Frank asked in a quiet, slightly somber voice. “I…I think there might be…something to it. I’m scared as hell about it, but…I think I need it.”

Dr. Abbot sighed patiently, “There’s a questionnaire in a folder on the portable table that’s part of that, and it’s something that you will need to fill out under observation, but it can wait til your headache’s gone,” he replied softly. “Doctor King is here with the hair washing stuff and Austin is here to help provide support. I will take Oliver out for you and then come back, all right?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied softly. “I don’t think I can sit up…”

Soft footsteps suddenly filled the air, “Oh, David,” Dr. Abbot spoke in a surprised tone. “I thought you were taking some time to yourself after your session?”

“It’s better if I have things to do other than just sit at the desk,” David’s voice replied in a subdued tone. “If I’m not busy, I’ll just think about Lance and how I can’t be with him. The therapist even recommended I keep busy, so I sent Austin to the desk cause I have seniority.”

The name ‘Lance’ suddenly triggered a memory in Frank and he knew that that had been the overnight nurse’s name, but he suddenly felt as if he knew that young nurse from somewhere before even being admitted to the wellness center. He just couldn’t figure out where.

“…If you feel up to working, David, go ahead,” Dr. Abbot suddenly spoke gently. “Just pace yourself, all right? I’ll be back after I take Oliver for a walk.”

The sound of squeaky wheels filled the air, “Hi, Doctor Langdon,” Frank suddenly heard Mel say in a kind, very quiet voice. “How…how are you?”

I’m not a doctor here, nor am I currently a practicing doctor, so why is she addressing me as ‘Doctor?’ Frank thought, slightly irritated by the formal way in which he was greeted. I…I have to be nice, though. That is just how Mel is. She is formal when she feels it’s appropriate to be and I should have remembered that from working with her. I have to be nice. I have to set a boundary in a nice way…because I feel very uncomfortable about being addressed as ‘Doctor’ when I don’t know what I am right now or what I will be when I get through all of this.

“Um, you can use my first name…if you want,” Frank replied in a pained voice. “In fact, please…please call me Frank. I’m not your boss here. I’m barely good at being the boss of myself right now. Being addressed as ‘Doctor Langdon’ when I am currently not able to be that…is weird and makes me feel uncomfortable, so please…don’t do it. Call me Frank. Okay?”

A silence filled the air and Frank suddenly felt anxious and worried that he had offended or scared Mel, “I’m sorry,” he replied in a quiet, but pained voice as he felt tears fill his tired eyes. “My God…no wonder I need a disability assessment. I’m psychotic…”

“No,” Mel’s voice suddenly replied softly. “You’re not psychotic. You’re just scared…”

Frank froze and forced himself to breathe, “Fecking right I’m scared,” he admitted shakily. “To have the label. To need the accommodations that come with the label. To have everyone needing to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life because I have that label, that scary label, a label that sends a message that I struggle and need help. I am scared to death. It’s going to change who I am to a lot of people, and they will treat me differently…”

“It doesn’t change who you are, though,” Mel finally replied softly. “Not really. You’re still Frank Langdon. A disability…it doesn’t change who you are. It just means that you’re not the same as everyone else and it’s…kind of boring to be like everyone else anyway. I mean, who wants to be like everyone else? It’s scary, I bet, because you’re an adult and it’s a new world for you and you thought you were done having to deal with new things or worlds. You don’t like the idea of a new world or change, so you’re scared of it. You feel better in a world you know.”

I feel better in a world that’s not there anymore and even when it was there, it was bad. Frank thought grimly to himself as he sighed heavily. I....I’m an adult…I should be…I should stop.

I’m sorry, Mel,” Frank spoke in a quieter voice. “I’m struggling with this…with all of this.”

Mel, however, wasn’t fazed because she was used to meltdowns from her sister and completely understood why Frank was scared.

“I…I don’t know who the hell I am anymore, but I know I can’t be who I was before all this happened,” Frank replied grimly. “It’s not…it’s not realistic. Oh my God, I am crying and venting like a psycho when all you came in here to do was wash my hair. Are you still up for that?”

There was a silence, “Yes,” Mel replied gently. “And I wasn’t bothered by what you had to say, by the way. You’re going through a lot right now and your world is changing and so are you and you’re allowed to not like the changes. You’re allowed to be worried about your mind and whatever it’s struggling with. Having a disability does not make you a bad person or a psycho. Anyway, do you want me to wash your hair now? It might help you feel a little better.”

“I’d love that,” Frank stated quietly, suddenly feeling tired and emotionally drained from his rant. “I…I’ve just got a headache, so…be careful…please.”

Frank suddenly felt himself being gently lifted away from his pillow and a strange sensation quickly surrounded his head before he felt lukewarm water suddenly being gently massaged into his hair. He also felt a gentle hand squeeze his and heard David gently tell him to relax.

As Frank lay there in silence, feeling Mel and David wash his hair, he began to think about the last time Mel had washed his hair. Robby had helped Mel with the task that day and he couldn’t help but miss Robby a little even though he was far from ready to do anything but text the man. Frank knew he wasn’t ready for anyone to see him in such a state, especially those he had once felt close to, like Dana or Robby. In his mind, he was worse off than he had been in The Pitt with a disability assessment on the horizon, struggles with anxiety and all sorts of emotions he didn’t quite understand the source of yet, and a pure inability to do anything that he felt would contribute to his recovery, such as be outside or eat a meal, without suffering some sort of issue. It would be too painful for him, Frank knew, and quite frankly embarrassing to let people see him reduced to needing 24/7 help with everything a person his age should have mastered.

Texting, Frank knew, was impersonal, but it was easier than dealing with actual people…

In fact, Frank thought, he had already texted Robby and was very clear about what he needed from him and also clear about the fact that Robby was free to step away if he had no patience or desire to give what was needed. I wonder if Robby’s texted me back? Frank wondered silently, unable to keep himself from reaching up towards his phone, which lay on the portable table.

It was quite the effort trying to get a hold of his phone without moving his head, and he had to feel around on the table for a few minutes, but Frank finally managed to grab hold of his phone, but quickly lost a grip on it because of the pulse-ox clip on his finger, but it was fortunately still on the table, so no damage was done to it.

A hand suddenly reached down, picked up the phone, and gently placed it on his chest within reach, “Thanks,” Frank spoke quietly. “I…I should have asked for help, but I wanted to try getting it myself. It’s…it’s overwhelming for me…the idea of needing accommodations…”

Before anyone could reply, there was a knock at the door, “Hey, Mel, can I borrow David for a second?” a female voice suddenly asked softly.

“Sure, Amanda,” Mel replied softly. “We just got done and I’m drying Frank’s hair with a towel…”

Footsteps filled the air, and Frank could not help but eavesdrop, “…Austin said you insisted on seeing patients even though Doctor Abbot and I both said you should take a break,” he heard the woman say in a concerned voice. “It’s not like you to ignore our advice, David…”

A quiet sigh filled the air, “Frank is the only patient I have today,” David’s soft voice filled the air. “If it wasn’t for Frank Langdon, Mandy, Lance wouldn’t have been able to get his chemo done in the safety of our apartment. Frank was the intern who brought my husband the machine and the chemo medicine and the company he needed. Frank actually donned that gross anti-COVID gear twice a week and sat with Lance so I could go out with street teams or work in clinics whenever there was an opportunity for me to grab a paycheque cause this place was closed. He helped my family and I when we were at our worst and so we’re helping him when he’s at his worst. I know it’s a weird way to say thank you, but when I realized who he was…”

“My God, David, it’s not a weird way to say thank you,” Amanda’s voice filled the air in a slightly gentler tone. “It’s really not. Just don’t wear yourself out while saying thank you. All right? Even with Lance out sick, we have Austin and five other nurses per shift, including me. If you get tired…ask for help. Speaking of which, I can let you take an extended break for a couple of hours to run down and check on your husband, but you’ll have to make up the hours tonight.”

A teary chuckle filled the air, “Absolutely,” David’s relieved voice filled the air. “Thank you, Mandy. You're a good supervisor and I'm grateful. I’ll take my break after I’m done helping Mel…”

I…did I help David’s husband? Frank wondered curiously, trying to see if he could remember what exactly he did during COVID after Oliver’s death, but his memory was drawing blanks. He had stopped hanging out with Robby because Abby had told him to, as she had seen the article about him, Robby, Oliver, and Tanner and thought that she was going to lose her husband and sons to a gay affair. They had fought about it for a while, then Oliver had died, and then they had quickly begun running out of money because Abby had turned to drink in grief. Because they were struggling for money, Frank had turned to asking Gloria for opportunities to moonlight around the hospital even though he was only an intern, saying that he was wanting to cremate his dead son, but even cremation cost money, money that his grieving family didn’t have, and she had sympathetically lent him out to other departments when he wasn’t working in the ED, including Oncology and homecare, as long as he tested negative for COVID. During his moonlighting days, he had helped dozens of people, but couldn’t specifically remember…

“Hey Frank, you okay?” Frank suddenly heard David ask softly. “You look a little distressed.”

Frank blinked and sighed, “Just a little tired,” he lied softly. “Um, I also overheard Mel say she was drying my hair? Is she done already?”

“I tried to get it done as quickly and as painlessly as possible,” Mel replied softly. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

Frank sighed, “You didn’t,” he stated tiredly. “You…you can come back if you want…to do my hair…or to just to talk. Maybe to help me understand what living with a disability is like so I…I learn to live with whatever I might have. I’m not gonna lie, Mel, I’m scared as hell about it.”

“Did you want my number to text or did you just want me to drop by on my next day here?” Mel asked softly. “I kind of need to know so I can plan for it in my schedule. I have a strict…”

Frank sighed, “How about on your next volunteer day?” he suggested tiredly. “After your shift?”

“Okay!” Mel replied eagerly as she wrapped a dry towel around Frank’s hair. “By the way, I wrapped your hair in a clean towel so you don’t get sick…”

Frank sighed tiredly, suddenly feeling very drowsy, “Thank you, Mel,” he replied groggily.

Letting out another tired sigh, Frank accessed his text messages and paused when he saw that Robby had indeed texted him back. He hadn’t expected anything from Robby, but he was truly glad that Robby had managed to rise above expectations. He slowly accessed the message and immediately found himself pausing so deeply that he found himself forgetting to breathe.

‘I can’t and won’t give up on you, I won’t walk away from you even if you have a disability. Don’t give up on us or on yourself. Just hang in there. Whoever you become is good enough for me. I’ll love you and care for you even if you take a while to come back to me. Take all the time you need. I’ll wait forever. I value your presence in my life too much to simply walk away.

“Frank?” David’s concerned voice suddenly filled the air. “Frank? Are you okay?”

Blinking, Frank slowly took a breath and silently held the phone to his heart before closing his eyes and continuing to take slow, deep breaths. Mel froze, unsure as to what was going on, and David also watched Frank worriedly, unsure what was going on and unsure if he should call for additional help or see where Dr. Abbot was because something was obviously going on and Frank was not communicating verbally about it. Suddenly, tears filled Frank’s eyes, and he began to cry quietly while continuing to hold his cracked phone against his heart.

Canine whimpering and footsteps suddenly filled the air and Frank quickly heard Oliver whimpering anxiously while batting the side of the bed with his paws. Exhaling, Frank struggled to stop crying and speak so he could say he was fine, but the words wouldn’t come, and he found he couldn’t even open his eyes. His brain was suddenly overloaded with bad memories, and he could hear frantic talking as well as noise, but…he couldn’t connect with any of it.

“…Are you in love with Michael, you idiot?” Abby’s angry voice suddenly filled the air. “You and he did an interview with a reporter in the park about how you can’t live without each other and how you find security in each other! For God’s sake, Frank! I’m your wife and Oliver and Tanner are our children! Our children! This article makes you seem like you and Michael Robinavitch are the parents to Oliver and Tanner and that you four are a happy family! Would you rather Michael be your spouse instead of me, Frank?! Screw that! You’re not taking Oliver and Tanner away from me! If you want to go play happy families with your secret boyfriend, go ahead, but you are sure as hell not taking my sons to be raised away from me! You and I are their parents! Not you and Michael Robinavitch! You’re going to have to make a choice, Frank! Us or him!”

Frank hadn’t remembered offering a reply, as he had been too mystified by the article to have an immediate response to it and had decided to take time to really process it. Not long after Abby had seen the article, however, Oliver had been killed and Frank found himself wishing he had been able to figure out what to say or feel before that had happened. Abby had then convinced him to stay, break off visits with Robby, and they had carried on in their unhappiness.

“…Doctor Abbot, grand mal! Frank! Frank, can you hear me? Oh God…he’s vomiting! Roll him!”

Darkness was swallowing Frank quickly, but he was so overwhelmed by his memories, the sudden noise, and his inability to provide any sort of response that he simply let it happen without a fight.

Chapter Text

“…I’m sorry, Mandy,” Dr. Abbot suddenly heard David say in an apologetic tone as footsteps approached Frank’s room several hours after Frank had suffered his grand mal seizure. “I’m going to take my break right now. Mel and I were just finishing Frank’s hair, and he was looking at his phone and then all of a sudden, he started crying and went catatonic and had a grand mal. He also vomited a bit. He’s stable now, but we had to get him into a gown and do bloodwork and get him on a heart monitor…it’s just taken time.”

“Oh, my God,” Amanda’s voice filled the air in a horrified tone. “Go take your break now, then. Go see your husband, get something to eat, and breathe before you come back. All right?”

Frank’s phone was now on the portable table along with the rest of the things there while Frank’s borrowed shirt and jacket had been laundered and were now folded up in a pile on the dresser, but Dr. Abbot’s eyes were on Frank. As were Mel’s.

Mel had been just packing up to leave when Frank had started seizing, so she had stayed and had helped Dr. Abbot and David stabilize him, helped them change Frank into a gown, and also get the man on a heart monitor as a precaution. She was now sitting on the floor petting Oliver, who was somewhat confused as to why he couldn’t be at his master’s side.

They had sat vigil like that for hours and Mel knew she had missed her shift in the hair salon that day, but she also knew that Oliver needed someone with him to keep him calm and to keep him from approaching Frank while he was unconscious.

Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, had called in sick to work already, as he had no intention of going anywhere even when Frank woke because he wanted to know what the hell had occurred to trigger such a catastrophic reaction.

“How’s it going in here?” Amanda Russell, a middle-aged woman who served as one of the supervisors of the center as well as an RN, asked gently as she came into the room sporting blue work scrubs, a gray cardigan, and a stethoscope around her neck and saw that Dr. Abbot and Mel were still holding a silent vigil. “Any idea what happened to cause this?”

Mel shook her head and continued silently petting Oliver, “I called in sick to work tonight,” Dr. Abbot stated softly as he gently picked up Frank’s hand and held it in his own in an attempt to provide both himself and the unconscious man some comfort. “Doctor King, it’s getting late…”

As Mel looked up at Dr. Abbot to ask if she could take Oliver for a walk, snack, and quite possibly give him a bath in the salon, she suddenly saw Frank’s fingers curl and weakly grip Dr. Abbot’s hand. “Doctor Abbot?” she spoke in a concerned voice. “His fingers…”

Dr. Abbot looked down at Frank’s hand briefly before looking up at Frank just in time to see Frank’s eyes open and slowly dart around to try and make sense of his surroundings. He tried to speak, but found that he couldn’t because of the mask. Dr. Abbot quickly released his hand and rested it on his chest, but Frank shakily lifted it to his mouth and shoved the mask off his face, clearly annoyed by it. He also tried to sit up, but Dr. Abbot and Amanda held him down.

“Hey…hey, hey, settle down,” Dr. Abbot replied firmly, sighing when Frank eyed him. “You had a seizure several hours ago. Do you know why that might have happened?”

Frank’s eyes narrowed, “I…I was reading a text…from…from…Michael…and just…heard Abby’s voice,” he replied groggily. “In my head. And then…I can’t remember anything else.”

“May I read it?” Dr. Abbot asked softly, wondering what the hell kind of text Robby had sent that had caused Frank to cry, suffer a catatonic spell, and a grand mal seizure. “The text?”

Frank sighed, “If you really want to,” he replied groggily, sighing sleepily. “I’m so tired.”

As Dr. Abbot collected Frank’s phone from the table, got up, and stepped back to read it, Amanda came around the bed and sat beside the bed, “Hi there, Frank, my name is Amanda Russell and I’m an RN,” she spoke gently. “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? Can I do a simple neuro exam now that you’re awake?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied in a shaky voice, eyeing Amanda warily, deeply afraid that this stranger might hurt him. “You don’t have to touch me, right?”

Amanda, who had been brought up to speed on Frank’s domestic violence situation through reviewing his chart with the care team, shook her head, “No,” she replied gently. “Okay?”

“Hey…where’s Mel and Ollie?” Frank asked weakly, suddenly realizing that he didn’t see Mel or Oliver anywhere. “They’re safe…right?”

Amanda looked at Mel and Mel quickly took the cue to get up and come to where Frank could see her, “Oliver’s with me,” Mel spoke quietly. “He can’t be on the bed right now, but maybe soon, okay?”

“Can we do the neuro exam first, please?” Amanda asked gently, knowing she had to take it slow with Frank and be very gentle with the man. “And then he can sit with you, okay?”

As Amanda and Mel worked with Frank, Dr. Abbot silently sat on the window seat and looked at the text, his eyes widening in shock as he read everything that Robby had texted to Frank.

‘I can’t and won’t give up on you, I won’t walk away from you even if you have a disability. Don’t give up on us or on yourself. Just hang in there. Whoever you become is good enough for me. I’ll love you and care for you even if you take a while to come back to me. Take all the time you need. I’ll wait forever. I value your presence in my life too much to simply walk away.

“…Holy crap, that light is bright,” Frank suddenly muttered groggily.

Dr. Abbot quickly returned the phone to the table just in time to see Amanda move a lit penlight away from his face, “Hey Frank, can I please check your pupils?” Amanda asked softly. “I won’t touch your face, but I need you to listen to my directions, okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied groggily, allowing a sleepy sigh to escape his body as he submitted to the exam. “This…this is hell.”

Fortunately, Amanda didn’t take the comment personally and finished quickly, “Why…why is it so cold?” Frank suddenly asked groggily, feeling chills on his arms, which aggravated his shoulder and arm and caused him to wince. “My…my sweater…the cold...hurts my arm.”

Mel quickly retrieved Frank’s hooded jacket off the dresser before looking at Amanda and Dr. Abbot uncertainly, “It’s okay to get the sweater,” Dr. Abbot replied reassuringly. “Hey, Phoenix, do you want me to get your sweater on you? It might help you feel better.”

“Yeah,” Frank replied groggily, wincing as the cold air in the room continued to aggravate his arm. Please. My arm…is absolutely killing me. Wait…Am…am I in a gown? What…?”

Dr. Abbot quickly collected Frank’s sweater from Mel, “Phoenix, do you think Doctor King could help me get your sweater on you?” he asked gently. “She won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” Frank replied groggily, fighting sleep hard. “She can…she can help. I’m so tired. I need lots of help. I'm a mess.”

Dr. Abbot waved Mel over to the bed, so she made Oliver sit and Amanda moved back. Dr. Abbot also adjusted the bed and then he and Mel gently got Frank’s hooded jacket on his torso before fitting his nose with an oxygen tube. Dr. Abbot also gently put Frank’s injured arm back in its sling, which had been temporarily removed after the seizure, and rested the sling on Frank’s torso. Thoroughly exhausted, Frank closed his eyes and sighed sleepily.

“Tell Michael…thank you,” Frank mumbled groggily. “I…I miss him…and I miss…what we were... and…I miss…my kids…but…I’m…so sick…and screwed up…and scared…I…I need to sleep. I’m so…so tired.”

Mel’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, nor did Amanda. Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, gently scooped Oliver up from the floor and put him on the bed next to Frank, He then placed Frank’s uninjured hand on Oliver’s head.

“I’m going to get him a couple of heated blankets and some fresh IV’s,” Dr. Abbot spoke in a quiet voice, confused as hell about what to do because although Frank had mentioned wanting the facility to contact Robby, he wasn’t in a clear state of mind when he had said that, so it couldn’t exactly be interpreted as proper consent. “Doctor King, would you mind hanging around for a few minutes to help Amanda?”

Amanda suddenly sighed grimly, “I actually need to talk to you in private, Doctor Abbot,” she spoke firmly. “Doctor King will be fine on her own. My office, please.”

Sighing heavily, Dr. Abbot followed Amanda from the room, wondering what she could possibly want or need to say to him about how he was handling Frank’s care, as it had to be about that.

“I’ve been careful with Frank for a variety of reasons, and I also recommended him for the 60-day program because of what I’ve already seen,” Dr. Abbot stated in an annoyed voice the moment he got into Amanda’s office and the door was closed. “I submitted my recommendation to the care board yesterday…”

Amanda sighed as she grabbed a folder off her desk and held it out to Dr. Abbot while looking at him worriedly, “The state’s talking cutting funding again, Jack,” she revealed grimly. “And along with it, our 60 and 90-day programs. They think care can be amalgamated into 45 days in-patient care and then people can be handed off to Social Services for long-term help or tossed into hospitals if they can’t function on their own after 45 days. The care board and I do not agree with that determination, obviously, but we risk losing funding if we don’t play ball. The maximum I can get you for Frank Langdon is 45 days and that is after he is medically cleared…”

Dr. Abbot suddenly looked angry, “What the hell, Amanda?!” he replied in an upset voice. “Were you in the room when he started crying, had a catatonic spell, and a grand mal seizure over a simple text message?!”

“Yeah, I was, and I tried emphasizing Frank Langdon’s need for 60 days and used your report to explain why, but the most they will give him here is 45 days and a guaranteed space for him and his children at the DCFS Family Center indefinitely upon discharge since he is homeless,” Amanda replied in a pissed off tone. “He will also have access to daily counseling. The board recommended he also get help from external sources like family or friends and his file from the hospital says he has parents and…who is that Michael he was mentioning? There are extensive notes from a Doctor Michael Robinavitch in the file from the hospital. Are they a thing?”

Dr. Abbot’s frown deepened, “Frank Langdon’s family and…this Michael Robinavitch, if those two are a thing…he should definitely be involved in Frank Langdon’s recovery,” Amanda continued firmly. “It will take stress off the system and Frank even asked…”

“That can’t be counted as actual consent, Amanda,” Dr. Abbot argued darkly. “Frank was medically impaired when he expressed the desire. We have to wait until he’s lucid to discuss it. As far as other family members go, I don’t know what his relationship with his parents is like and his wife died in the Riverview Park shooting after helping initiate it and almost killing a fourth-year medical student she thought was Frank. That should all be in his chart.”

Amanda sighed irritably, “When he’s medically cleared to start his program, he has 45 days here and that's maximum,” she repeated firmly. “I’m sorry. That’s all I can give you. That’s all the care board can give you. You’re his care advocate. Get his family or that Michael Robinavitch involved if you have to. Just use the time you’ve got to the best of your ability…”

Scoffing, Dr. Abbot silently stormed out the office and stormed to the supply closets sporting a dark facial expression and carrying heavy frustration. He knew Frank needed more than 45 days, but he wasn’t gonna get it cause the system was a nightmare and getting worse with every cut presiding authorities chose to make without any regards to patient wellbeing.

As Dr. Abbot dug through the supply closets, he heard footsteps behind him, “Our conversation wasn’t done,” Amanda’s concerned voice filled the air. “The board did approve the disability assessment, necessary medication, counseling, and also behavioral therapy for problematic behaviors like stealing, lying, a tendency to justify keeping himself in unsafe situations and around unsafe people, things that Doctor Robinavitch mentioned in his notes…”

Robby wrote all that?! Dr. Abbot thought, deeply concerned by Robby’s notes. Wow. That…that sounds more personal than anything. I definitely need to talk to him about Frank. Soon.

“I don’t know how to approach Doctor Robinavitch about this,” Dr. Abbot admitted grimly, sighing as he turned to face Amanda with his arms full of supplies. “I really don’t. Their whole situation…I don’t know what it is, but I know they have things to settle. The text I saw on Frank’s phone from Doctor Robinavitch was the trigger for what happened, but I don’t know why it was.”

Amanda sighed, “Get Frank stabilized medically and then I want you to go sit down with this Michael Robinavitch and see if you can get information about his and Frank Langdon’s relationship with one another without breaking confidentiality,” she replied firmly. “All right?”

Swallowing hard, Dr. Abbot nodded and then headed back to Frank’s room with the supplies.

“…Denny had to go to his appointment, and he apologized that he couldn’t stay,” Robby heard a groggy voice say as he approached Lance’s room with the results of the bloodwork and saw a young man with brown shaggy hair, glasses, blue medical scrubs, sneakers, and a black cardigan sit beside the bed where Lance lay awake, looking tiredly at him. “And Amanda only gave me a couple hours. She says I gotta make up the time tonight.”

Lance smiled sleepily, pleased to see his husband there even though he didn’t feel very well, “That’s long enough for a cuddle,” he replied groggily. “Can I have one…please?”

Nodding, David climbed on to the gurney next to Lance and slipped a gentle arm around him, sighing softly as he held Lance close and gently kissed the top of his head. Lance immediately cuddled against him and the two began to talk and chuckle quietly to each other.

The chuckling suddenly made Robby think back to the times when him and Frank used to meet up after working in the cesspool that COVID had been.

It had only been the two of them, so they had been within the outdoor restrictions the city had set for outdoor gatherings, and they had just spent time playing at a playground near Frank’s house to burn off steam from work. They had played tag and climbed on the equipment a bit, but they had mostly had contests to see who could swing the highest and jump the furthest off the swings without falling over. When they had finally gotten tired, they had just sat and talked and laughed about their contests. Their happy talks had lasted for hours, well into the night and it had been midnight sometimes before they had gone their separate ways. And they had always, always said goodbye with a cuddly hug, a moment where they pressed their foreheads together, and a promise that they would always have each other…and that would be enough.

And look at where Frank and I are now. Robby thought grimly as he watched David and Lance cuddle each other. We’re not speaking, we’re at odds, and I don’t even know where he is.

Exhaling weakly, Robby silently composed himself and briefly looked over the chart before moving into the exam room, “Uh oh, Doctor Death is here,” Lance spoke groggily as he eyed Robby warily.

“Oh, my God, Lance, you are going to be just fine,” David insisted shakily, giving Robby a desperate look as tears filled his eyes. “I…I hope so…at least.”

Robby sighed, “You have cancer related anemia,” he replied grimly. “Treatment is iron therapy, erythropoietic-stimulating agents, and a red cell transfusion. We can do that here, but I recommend that you stay the night…”

David swore and gently cuddled Lance close, “I’ll make up my hours and get back here as fast as I can,” he promised shakily, intense fear in his eyes. “Um, Doctor…”

“Robinavitch,” Robby replied calmly, quickly guessing what David was gonna ask by the pleading look in his face. “Did you want to get screened so you can donate?”

Lance immediately paled and looked at David worriedly, “David, you…” he began shakily.

David nodded, “The screening process…it’s dehumanizing to those within the LGBTQ plus community, and I hate it, but I share a blood type with Lance, and I want to help him…if I can...because I love him,” he replied softly. “We’re…we haven’t had sex anyway since his surgery…as it makes him self-conscious to, but there are other ways we can be intimate and show love for each other, so we just do that.”

“I’ll get the form,” Robby replied calmly, secretly warmed by David’s dedication to his husband.

Lance sighed tiredly, “It’s been over a year,” he revealed in a pained tone, his expression suddenly full of distress as he spoke because he didn’t like that he was self-conscious about it and felt like he was a failure as a spouse. “And we’re both okay. We both have to take blood tests for work constantly anyway because they want to make sure we don’t get COVID and that I stay in remission, but I wasn’t due for my next blood test for a while…”

“For the sake of having the paperwork, I gotta get the form, but I trust you’re telling the truth,” Robby replied softly, knowing they would have no reason to lie about something so important.

As Robby left the room, he paused and watched David gently give Lance another kiss on the head before holding him gently, “Screw sex, my knight,” David whispered softly. “We don’t need it to be in love. You are enough just as you are, and I love you just as you are.”

“Thank you,” Lance replied groggily, smiling tiredly up at David with relief in his eyes. “Love you too.”

Suddenly wishing that he could be as good at being a lover, caregiver, and friend as David and Lance were to each other, Robby silently made his way to the desk and began digging through the different forms to find the form related to LGBTQ+ blood donor screenings. As he searched for the appropriate form, he was unaware that he was being watched and approached from a distance by a tired, concerned, and slightly pissed off Dr. Abbot, who had taken an Uber from Blue Mountain after stabilizing Frank because Amanda had wanted him to talk to Robby.

“Hey, Michael, you got a sec?” Robby suddenly heard Dr. Abbot ask softly. “We need to talk…in private.”

Robby frowned as he found the correct form and looked up at Dr. Abbot, “I heard you called in sick,” he commented in a concerned voice, eyeing him worriedly. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, I’m still off sick tonight, but I’d like to talk to you away from prying ears when you have a sec,” Dr. Abbot replied in a low voice. “We need to talk about you and Doctor Langdon.”

Robby froze, his eyes widening as he stared at Dr. Abbot in shock, but he didn’t say anything, “You look busy with something, so finish up, and I’ll meet you in the park across the street where we can have some privacy and some Subway for dinner,” Dr. Abbot continued quietly. “The discussion we need to have is a discussion that is not meant for everyone’s ears.”

Deeply mystified, all Robby could do was nod and watch silently as Dr. Abbot departed as silently and as quickly as he came. Once Dr. Abbot was no longer in sight, Robby silently took the form back to Lance’s room and silently watched as David, who was now in the chair again, gently kissed Lance’s knuckles, “If all we ever have is each other, it will be enough,” David spoke softly, unaware that Robby was watching him. “And we’ll take what time we can get with each other and make happy memories. As long as we have each other, that’s all we need…”

Robby suddenly stilled as he again remembered back to his time at the playground with Frank. They too had made those promises to each other, Robby thought sadly, but time, Oliver’s death, and the aftermath, including his own need to make his care for Frank Langdon conditional…

When I let my care come with conditions, I caused harm. Robby realized grimly as he watched David and Lance in silence. I wasn’t there for Frank unconditionally and I made him feel like he had nothing else but the hell he was living in. My lack of care made him stay where he was. How do I fix this? Can I? Can I somehow earn his forgiveness? Can I somehow learn to forgive myself? I know things will never be the same between us, but can there at least be something?

Robby suddenly found himself needing a moment, so he turned away and silently sat on the floor outside of the exam room with his back against the wall, his knees up against his chest, Lance’s chart on his knees, and his head lowered with his eyes closed to block out the world.

For what seemed like an eternity, Robby sat like that until he suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Doctor Robinavitch?” he heard a concerned voice ask softly. “Are you okay?”

Realizing that David or Lance or both had seen him and now David was checking on him, Robby sighed tiredly and looked up, only to find David standing over him sporting a worried expression on his face, “Doctor Robinavitch?” David asked softly. “Are you all right?”

Sighing, Robby slowly grabbed the chart off his knees and got to his feet.

“I just needed a minute,” he replied shakily, quickly composing himself as he faced David. “The way you and Lance are with each other…it reminded me of a relationship I let fall apart cause I was stupid and forgot to care unconditionally and the memory of it was making me sad. I’m sorry if I made you or Lance feel uncomfortable. It’s unprofessional of me. I, um, have the form I needed to get for you. Do you have time to go over it?”

David nodded, “Lance went back to sleep,” he replied softly. “Can we talk out here?”

Robby nodded and the two quietly went over the questions until the form was done, “You’re good,” Robby finally said softly. “If you want to sit down while I get a nurse and the supplies…”

A tired expression filled David’s face, but he nodded and silently hugged himself before lowering his head to breathe, “If you don’t mind, I’ll just wait here and take a minute to myself,” he spoke quietly as tears filled his eyes. “I don’t get a lot of space to breathe at work…so…”

Understanding David’s need for a moment to himself, Robby nodded and moved off to fetch a nurse and the supplies he would need for the blood donation while keeping half an eye on David. As he engaged in a conversation with Dana, who was around for a couple more hours til she went home, Robby suddenly noticed David on his phone sporting an apologetic expression on his face. By the time Robby and Dana had returned with the supplies, however, David was off the phone, back in the exam room, and silently resting in the cot that Whitaker had used when he had been there earlier.

Robby very much wanted to make sure David was okay emotionally, as the younger man was displaying warning signs of work-related stress and caregiver burnout and was even borderlining on anxiety and depression by how tired, sad, and quiet he seemed and his need for a moment, as well as his 'self-hug,' but David silently rolled up his sleeve and sighed before looking at the ceiling, indicating that he was not open to talking about how he was feeling and just wanted to get his blood donation done.

Dana got to work hooking up the IV, but Robby silently took the chair next to the bed and turned it to face David while Lance slept peacefully on the bed, oblivious to the world. Robby could immediately tell that David was tired, stressed out, and clearly needing someone to talk to and Robby knew that he couldn’t fail someone else in need of help after he had already failed Frank so spectacularly.

Jack can and will wait. Robby reasoned as he studied David intently, determined to help him even if it was just by providing him a listening ear. 

Dana, meanwhile, finished hooking up the IV and muttered something about getting a blanket for David as she left the room, but Robby didn't hear her, as he was too lost in his thoughts and his determination to be of help and make up for where he had failed in the past.

Jack mentioned he was going to get Subway for our chat in the park, and that will take a while, so I have time to do this. Robby silently determined. Even if I didn't have time to do it, I would make the time because the last time I didn't make time for someone who wanted and needed to talk, Frank almost died and now we're broken....both him and I...and I don't know if we can ever be fixed, but I don't want to be responsible for breaking someone else while I'm trying to figure out what will become of us. I can't change or erase the past, but I can sure as hell learn from it.

“You look like you could use someone to talk to, David,” Robby observed gently. “Did you want to talk? Did you need to talk? If either is the case...I'm here to listen and help...if I can.”

David looked at Robby in surprise for a moment before he nodded, “Yeah,” he replied softly, suddenly feeling less afraid. "I...I need to talk."

Chapter Text

“Doctor King, how was your shift today?” Amanda asked softly as she entered the Blue Mountain Wellness Centre’s hair salon and saw Mel cleaning up as she usually did at the end of her volunteer shifts. “I know you got a bit of a late start…”

Mel shrugged, “It was quiet,” she replied in a quiet tone, keeping her attention on the hair-washing sink as she scrubbed it down instead of focusing on Amanda like she usually did during their end-of-the-day conversations. “It left me a lot of opportunity to think about…things.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow, now more than a little concerned because it wasn’t like Mel to outright avoid looking at her during their chats, “Hey, Mel, um, did what happened today bother you?” she asked gently. “Frank’s seizure and everything? Did you want to stop for a minute so we can talk about it?”

“That didn’t scare me,” Mel replied in a quiet voice as she turned to face Amanda. “I’ve seen people have seizures at the hospital before. I mean, I’m a doctor there…”

Amanda sighed and raised an eyebrow, “Yes, but Frank was your supervisor, and I think…I think you’re also friends to a degree,” she replied gently. “Seeing a friend get sick…it’s gotta hurt.”

“I’m…I’m more scared for him than me,” Mel admitted quietly, suddenly looking worried because she knew he was overwhelmed about having to face his crumbling life with a potential disability and it was scary as hell to him. “Frank…he’s really scared about everything…and really sad. It’s really, really unusual to see him so…so sad and scared after seeing him so in control and confident and happy at work. I haven’t known him for very long, but he seems like he could use friends right now and he doesn’t feel like he has anyone who cares about him. I don’t know if it’s allowed, but…I’d like to be his friend…if he’ll let me. I kind of understand why he’s scared…and sad. He’s scared about what he’s facing, but I’m not sure how much more I can say without sharing his secrets…”

Amanda was quiet for a moment before nodding, “I think you’d be a very good friend to Frank right now, actually, because he trusts you, and I think having someone he trusts and who can understand what he’s currently dealing with will help him,” she replied gently. “I’ll approve it…you visiting with him outside of your hours, but if you get overwhelmed or if you see him getting overwhelmed with the situation, tell me or Doctor Abbot, okay? We’ll give you both support if you end up needing it.”

“Okay,” Mel replied softly, nodding. “Do you want me to keep what he tells me private or…?”

Amanda looked thoughtful, “If you feel if it might hurt him and his recovery if it’s kept private or he shows distress while telling you something, please tell me and Doctor Abbot,” she replied gently. “Distress to the point where he is in medical danger. If he cries a little bit or shows a little anxiety, but is able to respond to Oliver’s prompts to calm himself, that’s fine, but if he can’t, let one of us know or get help from a nurse. Otherwise, you can keep what he tells you private. All right? I trust your judgement and so does Doctor Abbot.”

Mel nodded, pleased that she would be able to help Frank adjust to his new world and new life and that nobody seemed bothered by her want to help and Amanda offered her a reassuring smile, “Other than that, what else did you think about during your quiet shift?” Amanda asked gently, not wanting to stay on the topic of Frank the whole time and end up stressing Mel out.

Lance was now receiving his treatments, was sound asleep, and looked comfortable, albeit pale and Robby felt relief that he had managed to at least do some good for someone that day.

David, meanwhile, was awake, lingering in the hallway, and chatting on his phone as he sipped on an apple juice that Dana had brought him after the donation had finished. David had opened up to Robby briefly about his worries about how apartment rents were getting higher, and job security was getting lower because the state was wanting to batter his workplace with cuts to staff, patient treatment plans, and other resources, cuts that would only hurt patient care. He was now also worried about Lance’s health, as the anemia could be a very bad sign of reoccurrence and he wasn’t sure if Lance could take another beating by the disease, nor could he, as the last time Lance was sick had about killed them both emotionally and financially.

Robby had listened, had encouraged David to hang in there, and had even offered to connect David with hospital counseling services and the hospital’s administration, as the hospital was always short on Nursing staff and he was obviously worried about job security. David had thanked Robby for his kindness and had accepted both ideas, saying that while he loved where he worked, he had to start considering the future. Then, David’s boss had called, and Robby had given him privacy while half-listening in to the conversation while making sure that it didn’t get too ugly. David had ended up negotiating for extra time away from work in exchange for working the entire nightshift.

And Robby had found himself giving David’s name to Dana as a possible idea for combatting the nurse’s shortage in The Pitt when Dana had come to give David juice and a cookie. When David had felt well enough to get up, he had taken himself, his phone, and his snacks out into the hall to phone members of their church to see if anyone could sit with Lance for the night so Lance wouldn’t be by himself in the hospital. Robby found himself awed by David’s unconditional dedication to his partner’s wellbeing and his determination to be there even when things were very, very hard.

It made him miss Frank even more and regret his past choices and also regret that he had outright skipped out on the mandatory counseling sessions that Gloria had told him to attend upon returning from his three-day sabbatical. Perhaps counseling would have given me…something. Robby mused silently as he watched David suddenly end his call and return to Lance’s side.

“…Denny says he’s gonna come back and bring you something to eat and also bring his roommate to provide support,” Robby heard David say softly. “I have maybe another hour, which leaves me with enough time to get something DoorDashed here…if it’s quick.”

“Robby?”

Robby turned towards the voice and was surprised to see a concerned looking Dr. Abbot approach him holding two Subway bags, “You’ve been over an hour, brother,” Dr. Abbot spoke worriedly. “I…”

“My patient needed more extensive treatment, and his husband helped with that and I decided to oversee it,” Robby replied quietly, not wanting to admit that he had been quietly learning how to be a better friend and whatever else he could be to Frank simply by watching David and Lance’s example. “I am sorry I kept you waiting…”

Dr. Abbot turned and frowned when he saw the machines in the room. At a loss for words, he dropped the Subway bags in Robby’s hands and moved into the room, immediately giving gentle hugs to both David and Lance, much to Robby’s surprise, as he immediately guessed that the three of them knew each other. Dr. Abbot then sat down in the chair and faced Lance.

“What’s the story, guys?” Dr. Abbot asked softly, his expression worried as David sat on the edge of the bed to be closer to Lance.

Lance sighed tiredly, “Cancer related anemia,” he replied grimly, his eyes full of sadness. “David got screened, donated blood, and now I’m dealing with iron therapy, erythropoietic-stimulating agents, and a red cell transfusion, but we both know what this means…and I swear to God, David, if you cry…just don’t. It’s not something I need. It’s not something you need. Just take a breath.”

“You tell Amanda yet?” Dr. Abbot asked softly as David took a breath and a moment to compose himself. “Or did you wanna know for sure before you tell her? I know you’ll wanna keep working even if it’s back. We can both help you with that…”

Lance scoffed, “Or they will use it as an excuse to chop me and save the facility some money,” he replied grimly, giving Dr. Abbot a pained look. “You know what’s going on up there, Jack. Let’s just not do anything for now. Just do me a favor and make sure David gets back to work safely. He needs to get back soon so he doesn’t get his pay chopped and I will be fine on my own until Denny and his roommate arrive. Now, David, give me a kiss and let Doctor Abbot take you back to work. I love you.”

Unbelievable. Robby thought, mystified and warmed by their relationship and their want to care for each other constantly even when one of them was not well. Lance is lying in a hospital bed and going through something very grim and yet, he’s being the brave one. Meanwhile, I’m on my feet, reasonably healthy and reasonably sane, and being a fecking coward while Frank is God knows where, broken and sick, and probably having to be very, very brave right now…

Wait. Robby suddenly thought, quickly taken aback at how much and how fast his thoughts had wandered in such short order. How did this turn into me thinking about Frank and I? Do I…?

“Um, David, I know you’re probably needing to get back to work soon, so I DoorDashed you some dinner so you could eat on the go,” Robby quickly spoke up in a nervous tone as he entered the room and passed David one of the Subway bags before handing the other bag to Dr. Abbot. “Here’s yours, Jack. You forgot it.”

Dr. Abbot eyed Robby, deeply confused as to why Robby had just given away dinner that was meant to be for him. Robby, however, silently left the room and made a quiet retreat to the bathroom. He silently began splashing cold water on his face in an attempt to wake himself up more because he suddenly felt as if he had been asleep for a very, very long time.

I need to wake up. Robby thought grimly as he stared at himself in the mirror. I’ve been asleep too long. I’ve been ignorant for too long. What’s happened is entirely on me. I may not have broken Frank, but I kept him broken by not being unconditional with my care and not open to conversation.

God, Frank, I wish I knew what you needed so I could know how to be that. Robby thought as sadness filled his face. Maybe I will go do that counseling Gloria told me to do. I sure need it.

The temptation to grab his phone from his locker and text Frank again was strong, but Robby resisted it because he knew he wasn’t any good to the man at the moment. Whatever Frank needed him to be, he wasn’t that…not yet. If he was, Robby knew, they would already be talking. They would already be reconnecting. They weren’t though and so Robby knew he had to take responsibility. He had lost Jake’s mother, Jake, Leah, hell…even Heather was gone from his life now, but he could not and would not lose Frank…not when they had already both lost so much both alone and together.

Exhaling softly, Robby silently left the bathroom, went to the desk, sat down next to the phone, and dialled, “Counselling Services, please,” he spoke softly into the phone when the operator answered, part of him regretting that he didn’t have the time or desire to ask Jack for his therapist’s number simply because he just wanted to talk to someone and didn’t know where Jack was at the moment.

Unaware that Dr. Abbot had seen him and was now heading in his direction, Robby sighed and silently composed himself, taking a breath for courage the moment he heard a voice on the phone, “Um, hi, this is Doctor Michael Robinavitch in the Emergency Department,” he spoke in a quiet, slightly shaky voice. “I…I was wondering when I could get in to…to talk to someone?”

Shoes suddenly squeaked as footsteps came to a halt. Robby silently turned towards the noise and was a little taken aback to see Dr. Abbot standing within earshot looking absolutely stunned. Scoffing, Robby turned his attention back to his call and found himself relieved when the speaker on the other end said there was actually an opening with a counselor in 15 minutes if he wanted it, as a last-minute cancellation had occurred. I don’t want it. Robby thought darkly. I need it.

Robby paused briefly before exhaling, realizing that if he didn’t at least try talking to someone, he was going to lose his sanity or suffer a stress attack over all the stuff that was currently inside him.

“I’ll take it,” Robby replied softly. “See you in 15 minutes. Thank you very much. Really.”

Exhaling anxiously, Robby hung up the phone, stood up, and silently made his way to the elevators unaware that Dr. Abbot was following him, “Robby?” he suddenly heard Dr. Abbot speak softly.

“I cannot have a conversation about the situation with the Frank until it makes sense to me, Jack,” Robby found himself blurting out in a quiet, but anxious voice as he turned to face his friend. “I sort of know what I’m feeling, but not really. I don’t know what I can do about it or how I can fix what I broke or even if I can. I have an appointment with Counseling Services in 15 minutes so I can maybe begin to figure out what the hell is going on in my head and in my heart or if it’s even possible to. Can we please talk in the morning? I will pay for donuts and coffee if you will accept that as a bribe.”

Robby was suddenly taken aback when Dr. Abbot simply hugged him and held him tenderly like a big brother would hold a scared, confused younger brother, “Go get the help you need,” he heard Dr. Abbot whisper gently in his ear. “We’ll talk in the morning. In the park. And I’ll bring the coffee and donuts. You never get the good ones when we share donuts.”

Nodding, Robby stayed in the hug for a moment longer and then turned his attention to the elevator.

Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, moved back to the exit just in time to see David, who had said a proper goodnight to Lance and had tucked him in with a promise that he would be back tomorrow to see him, approach with his Subway gift from Robby in hand, “Hey kid,” Dr. Abbot spoke warmly, giving David a fatherly hug. “You gonna eat your dinner before you go back to work?”

“I, um, sent for an Uber,” David replied nervously, unable to look Dr. Abbot in the eye. “It should…”

Dr. Abbot scoffed, “We can wait for it outside and I am going to watch you eat while we do,” he replied in a gentle, but firm voice. “You need to take care of yourself even if you can’t control what’s happening now. You know that, right?”

“That’s the same thing Frank…Doctor Langdon…said to me the last time this crap was happening and I almost fainted at the apartment cause I was going so long without eating due to stress and finances and he made me eat so I would be able to do what I needed to do, but it’s…it’s so hard,” David admitted shakily as tears filled his eyes. “Feck. This is so fecking…”

Dr. Abbot put a fatherly arm around David, “Take a breath,” he spoke softly in David's ear as he led him outside.

“…First, Doctor Robinavitch, let me say welcome and that anything we talk about in here is confidential,” Dr. Robert Willis, an older psychologist who was sporting a crop of gray hair, glasses, dark dress slacks, a dark blue shirt, and a dark blazer, spoke in a calming tone as he sat behind his desk with an open folder in front of him and a pen in front of him and watched Robby settle himself on the couch with his knees together and his arms wrapped around himself in a self-hug.

Swallowing hard, Robby sighed nervously, “I don’t do therapists usually, as sharing feelings…that is something I don’t know how to do that really well…but that…that is probably why my relationships in the past have gone to hell and why I lost a lot of people I cared about, including someone who disappeared from my life recently without any warning,” he admitted shakily, his mind suddenly on Frank. “And that is also probably why I don’t know how to care…like…like I probably should.”

Dr. Willis raised an eyebrow as he made a few notes in a blank file he had opened for Robby and then he gave Robby a curious look, “I don’t think you’re entirely without an ability to care, Doctor Robinavitch,” he observed softly. “I, along with many others, heard about the hard work and the lives you saved during the mass casualty incident. I think it was a shooting at PittFest, right?”

“My ex-stepson’s girlfriend died in that, and my ex-stepson blamed me and left me a phone message later that night not to contact him anymore,” Robby admitted shakily, cringing as he thought back to Jake’s venom-filled message that was still sitting on his answering machine because he hadn’t had the heart to delete it and let it go. “I also had a fight with someone I really, really loved after I outright accused him of being a drug addict. He had stolen prescriptions from patients, and hidden them in his locker, but those turned out to be for his wife, who was an addict and a seller. She was apparently abusing him and threatening him and forcing him to steal for her and using their kids as leverage…but I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. I cussed him out and he left and then almost got killed in a nearby park by two of his wife’s dealers…”

Dr. Willis suddenly paused, “This person, you say you loved him?” he backtracked softly. “Loved?”

“We sort of dated during the lockdown, but we never got romantic or anything,” Robby admitted shakily. “We worked here during COVID and then we’d go play on a playground near his family’s house and talk and laugh and just cuddle sitting up and it was just peaceful. It was just the two of us for the longest time and then one day, he started bringing his four-year-old son and his baby and this happened a few times. I wasn’t bothered by it though. It felt…it felt like we were a family, but we had to be careful cause he was married. And we were…for a while. We were happy…for a while.”

Sadness suddenly filled Robby’s eyes, “And then his four-year-old son died without any cause and what we had…it just sort of died,” he spoke in a somber tone. “Our connection…it sort of just fell into formalities and he kept his distance as much as he could and it worked until he was almost killed several days ago. I suddenly learned a lot of stuff about him and experienced a lot of stuff because his world came into the ED...rather violently. I was caught in a huge, huge…tornado just trying to keep up with learning what I didn’t know about him…”

“And I bet all of that was just as hard on you as it was on him,” Dr. Willis observed softly. “Did you even process what effect everything had on you? Did you take time to actually do that? Or did you just forget yourself and just jump into giving everything to him and give nothing to yourself?”

Robby suddenly froze, a look of surprise manifesting on his face as he heard Dr. Shen’s words coming back to him in his mind.

“You’re tired, Doctor Robby,” Dr. Shen’s voice echoed in his mind. “You’ve become so worn out from taking care of Doctor Langdon that you’ve lost track of time and lost track of yourself. You worked yourself into a state of exhaustion and you couldn’t give him your best because you were too tired to. You got tired and it made you anxious. Doctor Langdon caught on to your exhaustion and anxiety and incorrectly thought he was the problem. Everyone knows you’re pissed cause you wanted to be the one to help Doctor Langdon, but the help that was being offered here wasn’t working for him and he wasn’t responding to you because you pushed yourself into a state of exhaustion and anxiety that made him think he was the problem…”

Exhaling softly, Robby suddenly felt very, very bad. He hadn’t taken any time for himself to process anything that had happened and had only worried about Frank. Nobody in the Pitt, except for a select few who were good at self-care even in the face stressful situations, had done that, That self-neglect had built up into anxiety that Frank, in his uniquely constructed mind, had interpreted as anger, frustration, and other negative emotions that had made him feel as if he were the most hated man on earth.

Frank’s mind, Robby realized, had taught him to believe that the staff hated him, didn’t want him around, or didn’t even want him alive, when the staff was simply hurting and exhausted from the terrible situations, had failed to self-care, and hadn’t bothered to communicate to Frank that he was not the problem. The Pitt’s staff had failed at looking after themselves and each other and that lack of self-care had made Frank afraid of them, had made Frank disconnect from them and from reality, and had made Frank leave before he got so far away from reality that he couldn’t come back.

Feck. Robby realized, suddenly feeling spooked, shaken, and very ashamed of himself.

“I…I think I’m pretty guilty of forgetting myself,” Robby admitted shakily. “In fact…I am guilty of it.”

Dr. Willis made a few notes in Robby’s file, “And that is why relationships suffer, Doctor Robinavitch,” he replied gently, noting the very guilty, sad, and spooked expression manifesting itself on Robby’s face. “Love rarely dies, you see. It does change over time as people change, but it can only grow if the people within the relationship allow themselves to grow as a couple and as individuals. Individuals involved in a relationship, however, cannot and will not grow as individuals nor will they be good at maintaining relationships with anyone else unless they take care of themselves first and foremost. Now, Doctor Robinavitch, I’m sure you didn’t mean to neglect the responsibility you have to care for yourself, but it sounds like that’s what happened…”

Tears suddenly filled Robby’s eyes as he realized that Dr. Willis had a point and Dr. Willis promptly tossed him a box of tissues from his desk, which Robby caught in his hands, “Take a moment and let yourself have a good cry,” Dr. Willis instructed gently as he made more notes in Robby’s file. “And then we’ll talk about this some more and see if we can’t talk your brain into wanting to be better at self-care. All right? Close your eyes and take some slow, deep, breaths to relax.”

Robby dried his eyes and then set the box on the couch before he closed his eyes to breathe.

Silence greeted Frank as he slowly woke and found that his room was dark, but the sun was still up outside, allowing a small amount of light into his room. He felt less groggy than earlier, but he knew he was far from well enough to start getting up, but he could at least move his hand around and pet Oliver, which he did immediately. Oliver twitched in acknowledgement but remained at rest.

Sighing softly, Frank found his eyes travelling towards the mirror on the portable table and it suddenly hit him that he still had to do his affirmations for a third time that day. It was highly doubtful that he could do the water or the journal, as he was still feeling slightly shaky and probably couldn’t drink water or write without supervision, but he could do the affirmations…and should.

Taking a moment to flex his hand to make sure he had at least some motor strength, Frank slowly reached for the mirror and held it up to his face. He studied himself briefly: his injuries were still gruesome to look at, but he was slowly getting used to them and beginning to accept that they were not his fault. They were situations beyond his control. What was in his control was recovery.

“I am…a person,” Frank spoke in a quiet voice that was barely above a whisper because his throat felt raw and weak, and his body trembled with fatigue as he uttered every word aloud while his tired eyes took in each word on each Post-it. “I am…a good person. I am…enough.”

And then Frank found himself staring at himself at the mirror and re-reading the affirmations in silence for what seemed like an eternity because he wanted to try and imprint the words in his brain for the day when the mirror might not be available to him anymore. He knew the treatment center was temporary and he certainly wanted it to be. He only hoped that he could make that a reality.

What do I need to do to make it a reality? Frank thought to himself as he continued to stare in the mirror. What am I able to do?

The disability assessment folder suddenly caught Frank’s eye, and he found himself setting the mirror on the table and picking up the folder with his good hand. He flipped it open and silently began to read it, wondering if he could at least get a basic understanding of what it involved so he wouldn’t be so scared about it. As a doctor, he had referred others for assessments, but he had never faced one of his own. He had known something was off about him for years, but his parents…God bless them…they had expected him to be perfect, normal, and aspire for high achievements, so he had just boxed himself into what he was expected to do and be…and lost himself. Abby had indulged in partying even when they had been dating, but Frank had ignored it because his parents had liked them together. They had fit quite well together, according to them, so he had ignored all of the red flags. Even after Oliver’s death, his parents had pressured him to not give up on his marriage and to grieve alongside his wife, so he had stayed and fecked himself over.

Robby had been his glimpse of hope during COVID and Frank had found himself actually loving Robby’s presence in his life, seduced by Robby’s warmth, and very much wanting to leave expectation behind in favor of freedom, comfort, and security, but then the magazine article had come out. Abby had flipped out, as had his parents, and Frank had cut Robby off instead in a fit of anxiety and fear and had hoped Robby would ask why, but Robby had never asked. Robby had just walked away and turned into the sad, stony, unwelcoming bastard that he had become.

Frank had not wanted to cut Robby off, but Abby and his parents had not been happy about the article, nor had they been happy about his perceived apathy towards it. He had not thought it a big deal, but he knew he should have because his apathy had led to Oliver’s death. His parents had been heartbroken over Oliver’s death, but Frank had been spared having to deal with any religious funerals because of COVID restrictions. Abby had also begun drinking at that point and wanted to get rid of Oliver sooner than later, so they had cremated him, and he had given the urn to Robby after lying to Abby that he had spread the ashes privately to spare her the responsibility.

And then, Frank remembered grimly, he had forced himself to act okay, had shoved himself so deep into the box of expectations that he expected to die there, had apologized to his parents for ‘acting out of sorts,’ and had offered to help them move to a better place, a place that he paid for out of his own pocket as penance for the article. He had hurt his back in the process of the move, but that was simply aggravating injuries that Abby had already caused the day he had come home and found Oliver dead. She had slapped him against the fridge so hard that he had hurt his back and had suffered a concussion, but they had never discussed it. They had just gone on…in silent unhappiness. Not even Maria’s eventual birth had managed to heal any rifts between them.

Frank exhaled, forcing himself to step away from the painful memories because he knew he absolutely could not handle revisiting them so soon after just coming out of a grand mal seizure that had been most likely caused by PTSD. Instead, he focused his attention on the folder in his hand.

The assessment, Frank read, was divided into several parts: cognition, mobility, self-care, getting along, life activities, and participation, and suddenly…he felt very tired. Even just looking at the forms made him feel overwhelmed. The questions seemed endless, the forms seemed like they went on forever, and he suddenly found himself feeling sympathetic towards the patients he had referred to other parts of the hospital for such tests. How do people with difficulties manage to focus on all of this long enough to get diagnosed with something? Frank wondered silently, distress filling his face as he stared at the mess before him. I don’t even know where to start.

I can’t. Frank thought grimly, setting the folder on his chest. It was hard enough dealing with the crap my parents gave me when they thought they might have a gay son who was cheating on his wife, but if they find out they have a son with a disability…who has a service dog. God help me…

“Oh, my God,” Frank spoke in a soft, but grim tone as a heavy realization hit him. “They’ve probably heard about Abby by now…and the house. I…I just need to come clean and just give them the choice of walking away…just like I gave to Michael. I just need to get it over and done with.”

Frank’s eyes filled with tears and Oliver’s head immediately rose, sensing the sadness in his master.

Sighing, Frank gently stroked Oliver’s head briefly before he slowly grabbed his phone off the table again. He silently accessed his talk-to-text program and took a breath.

“Mom, Dad, this is Frank,” Frank spoke in a quiet, but grim tone. “I don’t know what you’ve seen on the news lately, but I’m alive and Tanner and Maria…they’re safe. They’re in foster care. They’re in foster care because I can’t take care of them right now. I don’t know if you heard, but Abby…she had some problems and she’s dead because of those problems. She also hurt me…she hurt me really, really badly before she died and I’m getting help…I’m getting help in a safe place. I’m so fecked up that I can’t bear letting anyone see me right now. I’m scared to let people see me for what I am right now: a hopeless mess. I just thought I should tell you what was going on with me in case you thought I ran away from my marriage like that article tried to say I was going to. I never left. My service dog and I…yes, I have a service dog…we’re together in a hospital of sorts…and I’m going to be getting assessed for a disability and I’m just going to be here getting the help I need. I know how you feel about me being anything but what you expected, but I can’t be what you want. It’s too hard. I can certainly be something good, but probably not what you want. In fact, I can’t be what you want. If you can’t love me anymore, that’s fine. I understand. Um, God…this is getting really long and I’m getting tired. I just want you to know that I love you both and I really hope you’re both well. I might text soon. I might not. Don't call. I'm not ready. I need time. Again, I love you both. Bye.”

Exhaling softly, Frank silently checked the message for spelling and grammar before he inputted his parents cell-phone numbers and sent the message off to them. He truly expected no reply because he hadn’t spoken to his parents since he had moved them and that day had been full of tension…

“How was that for you?” Dr. Abbot’s voice suddenly filled the air in a curious tone. “Feel better?”

Frank frowned as Dr. Abbot suddenly came into view, “I was, um, thinking about Abby…and why I stayed even when I knew it was bad, even when I felt it was a bad idea to stay,” Frank admitted shakily, a grim expression on his face as he spoke. “I was reading the questions in the assessment and realized how my parents always had these really high expectations for me. They expected me to be perfect, normal, and aspire for high achievements…and so I just made it happen. It made me really, really tired, but I made it happen. I…I wish I hadn’t. I’m just so lost and I’m grateful to be here so I can figure out who I am now. I know I’m not what they want. I know I can’t be. I really can’t be. Even if I try my best…that Frank is gone…and he’s not coming back. I just felt the need to set some boundaries and try and share reality with my parents and see what they had to say about that…”

“Well, Phoenix, I can’t get you 60 days here like I originally recommended, but I got you 45 days,” Dr. Abbot spoke grimly, offering Frank an apologetic look because he knew he needed to get to the point quickly due to their limited time. “Only after you’re medically cleared, however, and I get to make that call as to when I think you’re medically cleared to start treatment. I also got you and your kids a guaranteed spot in the DCFS Family Shelter after your time here is done so you will have a home to go to and that place has access to counseling…daily, if you need it…and other resources…”

Frank sighed tiredly, “Well, that’s a start, and that’s good for when I’m ready for all that,” he replied softly, not at all surprised that he hadn’t been able to get the full 60 days cause he knew the system wasn’t great, as he had once been the one to send people into it and knew the realities of it. “Um, I’ll try to make do with the time I have, but…I don’t have a lot here. I…I need things for here because I’m still here for now. That…45 days…is a very, very long time to be here without things…and clothes…and maybe something to read. Dennis…he showed the cops my storage locker and they probably still have all the stuff from that, which is most my life, except for the one album I left at home the day of the PittFest shooting...”

Tears suddenly filled Frank’s eyes, “I wish I hadn’t left it, but Abby…she made me,” he wept softly. “It probably burned up in the fire. God…and that definitely cannot be replaced. It can’t.”

Dr. Abbot suddenly looked thoughtful as he took a seat beside Frank’s bed and Frank looked at him sadly, “It was a brown leather album full of pictures of Oliver,” Frank revealed tearfully. “We put all the photos of him in there after he died and I may have left a bloody handprint on it because I was…you know what? I don’t need to talk about that. The point is…it’s gone. And I was stupid for not smuggling it out of the house. I just have to live with it now…”

Frank exhaled, realizing he was only hurting himself by talking about it, so he quickly changed tactics, “Maybe if you wanted to ask Dana…if the cops have my stuff out of their evidence locker yet?” he asked tiredly as he rubbed his forehead and eyes with his hand. “I’m sure she could ask around. I can’t. I’ve asked for too much already…from everyone. Plus, I’m getting sleepy. Dana’s number…it’s on my phone. You can use it. Can you please call Dana for me?”

“Okay,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, nodding. “If you’re getting sleepy, it’s probably time for you to sleep, but you are going to have some water and something to eat when you wake up. Plus, I’m going to get a nurse in here to sit with you. And…”

Frank frowned as Dr. Abbot suddenly took the folder and phone off the bed and set the folder on the table while keeping hold of Frank’s phone, “These can go away for a while,” Dr. Abbot spoke firmly. “Clear your mind and actually let it relax along with the rest of you. You’ve done a lot today. A lot of really heavy things. I’m actually very proud of what you’ve accomplished, Phoenix, but it’s really time for you to take a break…”

“And I’m still getting over…the seizure,” Frank replied sleepily as he closed his eyes to sleep.

Dr. Abbot nodded, “Yup,” he spoke patiently. “Take some time to recharge now. Don’t fight sleep.”

Quiet breaths are the only response Dr. Abbot received, and he found himself satisfied with that, as it meant Frank wasn’t fighting the process of recovery anymore, but was accepting it and he was also setting boundaries that he wanted and needed for what would become his post-recovery life.

After making sure that Frank seemed comfortable and was stable, Dr. Abbot silently stepped out of the room to call Dana about getting Frank some personal items like Frank had asked him to.

“Hey, little one, how are you feeling?” Dana asked warmly, smiling at Whitaker, who was wearing a collared jacket, jeans, sneakers, and a loose t-shirt and carrying a bag on one arm, as he silently entered Lance’s hospital room with Santos by his side. “You’re looking rested.”

Whitaker shrugged, “I’m alive,” he admitted softly, offering a nod to Dana. “Thanks for not insisting I give you a hug. I…I’m not real excited about being touched or hugged yet…”

A look of understanding crossed Dana’s face and she nodded. Whitaker offered a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and then he went to go sit beside Lance’s bed. Lance was asleep, but Whitaker simply got a Bible out of his bag and began to silently read it, blocking out the rest of the world as he did so.

Santos eyed him worriedly for a moment before sighing patiently, “Hey, Huckleberry, do you want something to eat?” she asked softly. “I’m gonna get something…”

“No,” Whitaker replied quietly, keeping his eyes on his Bible as he spoke. “I…I’m not hungry.”

As Santos made to leave the room, Dana’s phone suddenly went off and she stepped outside to use it after seeing that it was Frank calling her, “Hey Dana, it’s Jack Abbot,” Dr. Abbot’s voice suddenly filled the phone. “I have permission from Frank to call you. He’s okay…in a sense…and he’s asking about his things. If you have things of his, I can get them from the hospital…”

Dana froze, a shocked expression suddenly filling her face as she tried to make sense of what was happening, “Um, first of all, Jack, how in the hell do you have Frank’s phone?” she asked in a confused voice. “Secondly, what do you mean by he’s asking for his things? Where is he?”

Unaware that Santos had overheard her mention Frank and was inching closer to listen in, Dana continued listening intently, “Frank says he wants his things, but he can’t ask for them himself because he thinks he’s already asked for too much from people, so I was wondering if you could ask the cops about his stuff,” Dr. Abbot explained softly. “Him wanting his stuff is a very good sign. He’s safe, but he doesn’t want people to know where he is. It’s complicated right now.”

“Santos…Santos and I had actually tried to get things for him and his kids before the fire, but the cops took it after the fire as evidence,” Dana remembered in a confused voice. “Do you want me to ask about that too? I got stuff for his kids and Santos was looking around the living room…”

There was a pause, “Santos was in Frank’s living room before the fire?” Dr. Abbot asked quietly. “Do you know what she got from there?”

Quickly realizing that Santos was behind her, Dana turned to her, “Hey, Santos, Doctor Abbot’s on Frank’s phone,” she spoke anxiously. “He wants to know what you got from Frank’s living room before the fire…”

Santos frowned, “The living room?” she asked coldly, scoffing as she shook her head in disbelief because she thought Frank was calling to see if there had been any drugs taken from his house. “You have got to be kidding me. Langdon got Doctor Abbot to call about the crap I found in his house? My God, is Langdon really that desperate for that drug paperwork I found? The cops took it all. I know it’s been a few days since he escaped from here, but he can find a fix on the street easy enough. There are reputable drug dealers on just about every corner of this city. Wait…why the hell does Doctor Abbot have Langdon’s phone anyway? Where’s Langdon at? Is he in jail?”

Dana’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “You had those papers from the kitchen, yes, but you were also in the living room for a minute before you told me someone else was in the house!” she replied in an unusually angry tone. “Did you take anything from the living room?! Actually, you know what? You talk to Doctor Abbot! I don’t wanna hear your crappy opinions about Frank anymore! I’m busy!”

Taken aback, Santos was shocked when Dana threw her cell-phone at her and stormed back into Lance’s room briefly before moving off into other parts of the ED, “Um…hi?” Santos spoke in a confused voice, deeply confused as she put the phone to her ear. “Whatever you may have heard…”

“Oh, we’ll have words about that tomorrow and we’ll definitely be including others in that particular conversation,” Dr. Abbot’s annoyed tone filled the phone. “For now, though, I need to know exactly what you took when you were in Frank’s living room before the fire at his house. Tell me.”

Santos frowned, but thought back to that night for a moment, “Um, I saw this large photo album on the coffee table,” she replied in a confused voice. “It was made of leather, and it had bloodstains on it. I don’t know why I did it, but I put it in my bag. Why are you asking, anyway? The cops took the bags Dana and I got from the house. Officer Hayes isn’t even here tonight even though he sometimes does security for the ED, so I can’t go ask when we can have the stuff back…”

“I’ll reach out to Officer Hayes and talk to him about the bags,” Dr. Abbot replied simply, his tone suddenly full of immense relief. “Thank you, Doctor Santos. You may have just helped save Doctor Langdon’s life with what you told me. Have a good night. Stay safe. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Santos scowled, “Is Doctor Langdon worth saving?” she asked darkly, only to hear a dial tone.

Unknown to Santos, however, Whitaker had overheard Santos’s side of the conversation and suddenly found himself pondering his own feelings on the situation. He had never hated Frank for what Abby had done, as Frank and Abby Langdon were two separate people and were responsible for themselves, but he had also never truly helped Frank to understand that he was a person worthy of love, help and safety. He had patched the man’s injuries up, taken injury reports, and provided company to Frank when company was wanted, but he had never provided more, nor had he even offered it. I should have said something to somebody long before I did. Whitaker thought grimly, his expression sad as he flipped through his Bible in stony silence. I should have done more than just patched Frank’s injuries and provided company. I should have called the police sooner than he had. Perhaps I had, none of what happened would have happened. If the cops had gotten involved, there might have been a bit of ugliness, yes, but Frank might have felt more motivated to leave or at least get help from the police or Social Services instead of silently returning to a situation that was clearly bad for him. Instead, he almost died, his wife is dead, and now…he’s God knows where.

Whitaker’s eyes suddenly settled on Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 and he silently read it, “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.”

When I fell, Frank helped me. Whitaker thought grimly as he reflected on the times he and Frank had spent together on the street. He made sure I didn’t starve or get robbed or hurt because he knew what to do, where to go, and how to be safe. He taught me all he knew and protected me even though he was going through hell. Frank gave his best to me all the time, even when he was hurt or tired and I was very grateful for that. When Frank fell, though, I didn’t give back what I had been given. I didn’t give my best. I barely saw him. I let others take the lead. I abandoned him and let him feel like he was alone and unsafe here. I was hurting from Abby’s attack, but I didn’t give Frank my best at all. I stayed in my sickbed like a coward, and I let pain and fear keep me from being a friend. I don’t know if Frank is religious, but Jesus totally died for Frank too. He loves Frank, so why haven’t I been acting like I believe that or let Frank know that he’s loved? He could probably use the reminder. Frank has fallen and doesn’t have anyone to help him up and now he’s gone, and I don’t know what to do. I’m a believer in God and Jesus and I haven’t been acting very Christlike at all!

“Yes,” Whitaker spoke softly, slowly turning his head to look at Santos.

Santos frowned, deeply confused, “Yes what?” she asked in a slightly concerned voice.

“Yes, I believe Frank Langdon is worth saving,” Whitaker replied softly as he gazed at Santos through tired eyes. “You may not. We can have different opinions. I’ll respect yours. I just hope you’ll respect mine too. Believe it or not, Trinity, do you know how guilty I feel right now? Try a lot. I wanted to tell the cops or someone here at least half a dozen times that Frank was being abused, but I never did cause he didn’t want to be exposed or have trouble come to his kids or his job. He was terrified.”

Santos said nothing, but instead listened quietly, “I was not just patching Frank up in that storage locker, you know,” Whitaker continued grimly, hating that he was having to get very real very quickly. “There were times I would also have to talk him down from suicidal ideations. I’d sit and read to him from the Bible and that would usually be enough to calm him down. He didn’t like having drugs around his house, nor did he like being abused, and those things…they didn’t make him feel good about being alive. He was always afraid that he was always being too much trouble by letting me know how he was feeling, and was worried I would grow to resent his need for a listening ear, but I would simply thank him for trusting me. I wish I had done more than that, looking back. Anyway, I hope Frank’s doing better now, I do. I’ve never hated him, though. Ever. I don’t even hate his wife, and she almost killed me. Hate…it doesn’t do anyone any good. I just wish…I wish I could be there for Frank like he was there for me instead of constantly worrying about whether or not he’s okay…”

Whitaker’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and he exhaled softly before silently returning his Bible to his bag, “I need some air,” he replied shakily as he stood up. “Can you stay…in case Lance wakes?”

Without waiting for Santos to reply, Whitaker left his bag in the chair, got up, and silently left the room hugging his jacket around him like it was a security blanket. Santos stared after him in shock.

Whitaker, meanwhile, made it to the front area pretty quickly, but he nearly collided with Robby, who was coming back from his counselling session. Instead of apologizing for not watching where he was going, however, Whitaker physically shoved Robby back away from him rather hard and continued outside. Deeply alarmed, as he had never known Whitaker to be aggressive, Robby quickly followed after the younger man and reached outside just in time to see Whitaker storm off into the park across the street after narrowly missing being hit by a coming vehicle.

Robby silently, but quickly ran after Whitaker and reached him just in time to see him sink on to a bench, wrap his arms around himself, and silently close his eyes to breathe while allowing tears to fall freely down his face. Wondering what was going on in Whitaker’s mind, Robby silently sat beside him on the bench and patiently waited. Eventually, Whitaker did notice him and stare at him, but neither man spoke for a moment because neither knew what to say to the other, but that was okay.

Finally, Whitaker sighed, “I’ve been thinking…and grieving like hell…over Frank,” he admitted shakily. “I haven’t been very good at giving him love or grace after he gave me so much…”

“You haven’t been very good at giving yourself love or grace either, but I don’t think you’re the only one guilty of that sin,” Robby replied gently, sighing tiredly. “I think we’re all overtired because of recent events, and we haven’t been taking care of ourselves like we should, and it came across to Frank like we didn’t care about him and didn’t want him around. I think we all need to talk as a group about this stuff and deal with everything as both individuals and as a group. We need to process everything. We need to give ourselves some grace. We’re human and we got tired like humans do. We caused harm because we didn’t take care of ourselves when we got tired. We just pushed ahead when we got tired. We caused harm to ourselves and caused harm to Frank by neglecting ourselves. The good thing, though, is that we can learn to do better and learn to forgive ourselves…”

Whitaker sighed grimly, “Do you think Frank will forgive us, though?” he asked sadly. “Any of us?”

Robby shrugged, his expression sad, “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, not wanting to share the texts he and Frank had exchanged or the conversations he and Dr. Abbot had shared about Frank for fear it would trigger Whitaker. “I hope so. I’ve been told that Frank is safe and just not wanting to talk to anyone right now. I have to believe that’s true. Maybe, in time, that will change and he will want to talk to people. For now, though, that’s not the case. All we can do for the moment is just work on ourselves and we can do that by taking better care of ourselves as individuals, processing what we’ve already been through, and also take time as a group to process everything that’s happened.”

“And how are we going to deal with this as a group?” Whitaker asked softly as he dried his tears with the sleeve of his jacket.

Robby sighed, “Before I came over here, I called Gloria and said that we as a unit need to gather in The Pitt in the morning to talk about things that happened during Frank’s time as a patient there because people might have a need to talk through their feelings or get counsel on how to handle their feelings about everything that went on during his stay,” he explained softly, his expression full of shame and pain as he spoke. “A lot went on during Frank’s stay with us and a lot was said and there were a lot of heavy emotions involved that led to a lot of inappropriate decisions being made. We’ve all handled this situation inappropriately. Believe it or not…I actually dragged myself to therapy to learn that. And I don’t do therapy. Like…ever. That’s how bad the situation…that’s how bad I let the situation get. If I had willed myself to do better…maybe things would have been…”

Whitaker looked thoughtful, “As you said, Doctor Robby, we need to give ourselves grace and forgiveness,” he replied softly. “You’re acknowledging having weaknesses, but you’re not forgiving yourself for showing them. You’re human, just like everyone else. And that’s okay. Humans learn and humans grow. I think a group meeting will be helpful as long as people can forgive themselves and want to do better without dwelling on their mistakes. People have to set boundaries in order to grow as people and those boundaries include being willing to stop allowing opportunities for self-deprecation when they struggle. With respect, you need to set that boundary for yourself so you can help others effectively set that boundary for themselves. Growth will not happen otherwise. I’m probably the worst at trying to set that boundary right now, but I…I am trying so very hard to.”

“I suppose as long as we try, that’s something,” Robby mused. “Am I right? It’s better than nothing.”

Whitaker dared to offer a half-smile, “Now you’re starting to sound like my therapist,” he replied softly. “He says that I should focus on every bit of progress and find joy in it, no matter how small.”

“That seems like sound advice,” Robby replied calmly. “Did you wanna go back in or just chill here a bit? It’s a decent night, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable being outside…”

Whitaker, however, exhaled, “I’d like to try getting comfortable being outside again, but I’m not sure if I can tolerate being outside alone yet,” he replied softly. “Can you sit with me for a while, Doctor Robby? Please?”

“Of course,” Robby replied gently, determined to show support to whomever he could however he could.

Nodding, Whitaker closed his eyes and simply breathed in silence and Robby found himself doing the exact same thing.

Both of them were finding peace in remembering to breathe.

Chapter Text

It was six a.m., but Robby was wide awake and lingering in Lance’s room, silently watching as Lance slept in his hospital bed and Whitaker slept in his cot after sitting in the park until about midnight. Robby had stayed with Whitaker, and they hadn’t talked, but they had just enjoyed the quiet.

After returning from the park, Robby had helped Whitaker return to Lance’s room and had listened to Lance and Whitaker talk quietly. Robby had become involved in the conversation when Lance had asked him directly to run tests for cancer without telling David and Robby had reluctantly agreed to it. Whitaker had sat by Lance’s side during the tests and then both of them had finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning, each of them drained for different reasons.

Robby, meanwhile, had gotten the cultures off to the appropriate labs and had fallen asleep in a corner chair around two. Now that it was six, Robby knew he was not going to get any more sleep that day because Gloria had called a department-wide meeting for seven a.m. to discuss ‘things’ and he knew it was more than likely about the concerns he had raised last night, so he would probably be expected to attend. I want to attend. Robby thought to himself. I want to help us heal as a unit. We failed as a unit, so we should work together to heal and learn to do better as a unit.

“…Excuse me, I was wondering where I might find a Michael Robinavitch?” Robby suddenly heard a tired-sounding female voice suddenly ask in a concerned, slightly scared tone of voice.

Robby turned towards the voice and frowned when he saw a middle aged, but slightly older looking woman sporting blue eyes and dark hair, dark sleep pants, moccasin slippers, a long shirt, and a cardigan as well as a big handbag over one shoulder, standing at the desk facing Dr. Shen, who was sitting there sipping a caffeinated beverage. The woman looked eerily familiar to Robby, but he couldn’t place it. He did, however, decide to go over to the desk and see what she wanted because she was asking for him personally and Dr. Shen didn’t seem to know how to answer her question.

“Um, I’m Michael Robinavitch,” Robby spoke softly as he reached the desk. “How can I help?”

The woman silently studied him and gave him a once-over as if she was trying to know what to make of him and then she sighed softly, “You look older…more tired…more weathered…than you did in the photos that came with that article,” she commented quietly, giving him an intrigued look. “But you also seem very caring. No wonder Frank liked you and found you safe to be with.”

Dr. Shen’s eyes widened before he promptly choked on his beverage and turned away to deal with it, but Robby sighed tiredly, “Um, thanks?” Robby replied, deeply confused. “I didn’t think the paper was still printing it, but if you want a photo or a follow-up quote…I actually have a lot of nice things I can say about Frank…”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, “Oh, you do, do you?” she asked softly. “Could I talk to him, maybe?”

Robby suddenly looked very sad, “That makes two of us who would like to do that, actually, but he’s not here,” he replied grimly. “I wish he was, but…”

The woman suddenly reached into her bag and pulled out a phone, “I don’t understand,” she spoke in an upset voice. “My husband and I got a text message from our son last night saying he was in a hospital…”

Robby’s eyes widened as he realized just who exactly he was talking to, “Oh,” he replied in a pained, slightly shaky voice. “You’re Frank’s mother?”

“Elizabeth Langdon,” Elizabeth replied softly, giving Robby a confused look. “You didn’t know Frank had parents?”

Robby shrugged, “I knew he had parents, but he never talked about you or about his father,” he replied quietly. “I…I suppose I never asked, either. In all the times we hung out…I never asked.”

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment before offering Robby her phone, “Frank sent us a rather alarming text last night and we’ve been up all night discussing it,” she explained grimly. “We saw the news about Abby being killed in the shooting at Riverview Park, but…Frank’s message…it’s been freaking us out. What…what can you tell us? About any of this?”

Robby took the phone, suddenly feeling deeply troubled about what Frank might have said.

“Mom, Dad, this is Frank,” Robby read quietly, deeply mystified and concerned by the long and very pain-filled text message. “I don’t know what you’ve seen on the news lately, but I’m alive and Tanner and Maria…they’re safe. They’re in foster care. They’re in foster care because I can’t take care of them right now. I don’t know if you heard, but Abby…she had some problems and she’s dead because of those problems. She also hurt me…she hurt me really, really badly before she died and I’m getting help…I’m getting help in a safe place. I’m so fecked up that I can’t bear letting anyone see me right now. I’m scared to let people see me for what I am right now: a hopeless mess. I just thought I should tell you what was going on with me in case you thought I ran away from my marriage like that article tried to say I was going to. I never left. My service dog and I…yes, I have a service dog…we’re together in a hospital of sorts…and I’m going to be getting assessed for a disability and I’m just going to be here getting the help I need. I know how you feel about me being anything but what you expected, but I can’t be what you want. It’s too hard. I can certainly be something good, but probably not what you want. In fact, I can’t be what you want. If you can’t love me anymore, that’s fine. I understand. Um, God…this is getting really long and I’m getting tired. I just want you to know that I love you both and I really hope you’re both well. I might text soon. I might not. Don't call. I'm not ready. I need time. Again, I love you both. Bye.”

Swallowing hard, Robby returned the phone to Elizabeth, “My husband’s finding a place to park our car, but he’s of the same mind that I am in that we want to know what the hell is going on with our son!” Elizabeth spoke in a distressed voice, nothing but love and concern in her eyes as she spoke. “If he’s not here, what hospital is he in? And what does he mean that Abby was abusing him? Good God. Did she hurt the kids? Is that why he felt he needed to put them into foster care instead of asking for help from us? I felt like something was wrong cause he stopped talking to us after he bought us that house, which we really didn’t need by the way, but he kept saying that he was just busy…”

“Did you hear he lost his house in a fire?” Robby asked in a concerned voice, wondering if Frank’s mind was had been so broken by his situation and by Abby that he had thought his parents had outright hated him like Abby had.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, “Oh, my God!” she replied in a horrified voice as tears filled her eyes. “I…I did not. That shooting at the park’s been in the news, but nothing’s been in the news about a fire. We tried calling his house after we heard about the shooting, but we couldn’t get through. Oh, my God…”

Robby was taken aback as Elizabeth suddenly grabbed him in a hug and began to sob, but he silently held her. He was confused as he did so, but he did it anyway because it was clear that the woman was deeply confused, in distress, and needed comfort.

“…Dear, who’s this?” Robby suddenly heard a confused voice ask.

Robby frowned as an older version of Frank, a man sporting a dark crew cut, dark sweats, sneakers, a dark shirt, a dark hooded jacket, and a bag over one shoulder, suddenly came into view looking outright bewildered, “Randy, this…this is Michael Robinavitch,” Elizabeth explained in a shaky voice as she released Robby and turned towards her husband. “Michael, this is my husband and Frank’s father, Randall Langdon.”

Randall Langdon’s eyes widened as he studied Robby intently, “What the hell happened between you two after Oliver’s death that you and Frank never got together anymore?” he asked in an almost pissed off voice, scowling at Robby. “Why did you leave him?”

Robby blinked, deeply confused, “What do you mean?” he asked in a deeply confused voice. “Why did I leave him? Frank was the one who ended our little get-togethers. I was giving him space because he asked for space. I figured he wanted to stay close to his wife and what family he had left…”

“You were the family he was closest to, you dumb fool!” Randall replied in a pissed off voice, glaring at Robby. “Yes, he was married to Abby, but we knew about the little outings you and him had because Abby would talk to us all the time about what you two were doing. We just cared about whether he was happy, healthy, and safe, though. We knew COVID had to be hard on him, so we didn’t care how he got that stress off of him. It’s not like you two were having sex, though, but people who are close and who care for each other and who love each other don’t necessarily need that. Frank’s mother and I…we don’t do that so often anymore, but we’re still very much in love. I don’t think Frank enjoyed sex that much to begin with, personally. He did it, though, because he had this belief it was what married people were supposed to do and he got that nonsense from the church we went to when he was younger. We kind of stopped going to church when COVID hit. Even if you and he had been having sex, though, it wouldn’t have mattered. Frank seemed so very happy with you…at least, that is what we were told…”

Robby frowned, “Did you ever tell Frank that?” he asked softly. “What you just told me?”

“Whenever we’d call him, Abby would answer and say he was either at work or busy, so she’d usually talk to us,” Elizabeth explained in a confused voice. “She promised to tell him we called.”

Oh, I bet she did. Robby thought darkly, realizing that Abby may have manipulated Frank into cutting off contact with him by using his parents as weapons and making him think that they wouldn’t love him anymore and even outright hate him if he didn’t stay in the situation with her. God, no wonder he didn’t want to do anything but stay where he was. His brain…it didn’t know any better than to trust and believe what it was being told because I wasn’t telling him any different. I wasn’t there to.

“Where’s our son at, anyway?” Randall asked worriedly, eyeing Robby with a concerned expression on his face. “The weird text he sent us last night…it said he and his service dog were in a hospital. My God, Frank must really not be well if he needs a service dog…”

Robby shook his head, “I don’t know where he is,” he replied grimly, sighing before he turned to Dr. Shen, who had been sitting there the entire time listening quietly while sipping on a caffeinated drink. “John, you were here the night Frank left. I don’t know if you heard us, but…”

“Yeah, I did, and no, I’m not going to tell you where he is,” Dr. Shen replied firmly, shaking his head as he looked at Robby and the Langdons. “If Doctor Langdon wanted you to know where he was, he would tell you himself. That text message he sent his parents was very clear in that he is not ready for calls or visits. He needs time. If you really love him, you’ll let him go at his pace. Not the pace that everyone else wants him to go at. Remember the talk we had about birds, Robby? Birds out of their nest need to go at their own pace in order to get to know their world. Doctor Langdon’s world…it’s different now, especially considering...”

Elizabeth sighed, “We want to help him, though,” she replied anxiously. “We love our son.”

“Then leave him alone until he’s ready to let you help him,” Dr. Shen replied firmly. “If you push and insist on crowding him before he’s ready to let you help, it’s not going to help. Just maybe…maybe tell him you got his message and that you love him. Text him that. Don’t call. He said he wasn’t ready for a phone call, so just send a text message of affirmations. And then let him process your message.”

Randall and Elizabeth exchanged a look, and Robby realized that they were confused and overwhelmed because they had so little information about all that had gone on in the last several days and didn’t know how to talk to their obviously broken, but very beloved son without causing more harm to him. They wanted to help, Robby knew, but they didn’t know how to be of help.

“Here,” Robby offered softly, holding his hand out for the phone. “Let me help you with the text.”

Nodding, Elizabeth handed her phone over to him, “Please,” she whispered. “Help me…help us…reach our son. Help us reach whoever he’s become. We miss him and we love him.”

As do I. Robby thought silently as he looked down at the phone and began to think about what Frank’s parents could say that would send a message of care, but wouldn’t overwhelm Frank.

Rumbling thunder stirred Frank from sleep, but he made no effort to lift his head from the pillow because he felt unusually sluggish…and a little cold. As rain began to fall outside, Frank silently stroked Oliver’s fur and Oliver stretched briefly, but remained sitting up.

A buzzing sound suddenly filled the air, and Frank immediately knew it was his phone going off, but he didn’t immediately grab it. He didn’t have to. He could let himself get to a point where he felt physically well first. Besides, Frank thought to himself, it’s probably just Robby texting me again. I can and really should take my time with that whole situation. I…I don’t even have to think about it to know I should. I’m not clear headed when it comes to Robby and he’s sure as hell not clear headed when it comes to me. We just need to take our time when it comes to each other and whatever…whatever it is we have.

Oliver suddenly whimpered at the same time thunder filled the air and Frank gently stroked his dog’s head, “It’s okay, boy,” he spoke softly. “We’re inside and that thunder…it’s not going to hurt us.”

Suddenly, Frank felt his stomach growl, “Do you think we should try to have some breakfast, boy?” he asked softly as he presses the nurse’s call button. “I think we should. It’ll help us, I think.”

Oliver panted in agreement as David silently entered the room wearing a dark cardigan and stethoscope over his uniform, “Morning,” David spoke warmly, feeling refreshed due to taking a nap after returning to work before he actually got to work on shift. “How are you feeling?”

“Sluggish and cold, but I think Oliver and I are both hungry,” Frank replied tiredly. “And he’s scared of the thunder. Poor guy.”

David’s eyes narrowed worriedly at the words sluggish and cold, “Do you mind if I do a head-to-toe assessment before we deal with breakfast?” he asked softly. “I just wanna make sure everything’s okay with you since you mentioned feeling sluggish and cold. I promise to be as gentle as I can.”

“If you think it’s necessary, I trust your judgment,” Frank replied tiredly. “I probably need to be out of bed for that, right?”

David nodded as he got a radio out of the pocket of his scrub pants and quickly called for assistance from anyone who was nearby. Dr. Abbot, who had stuck around through the night to be there in case David needed to talk or Frank had a problem, came almost immediately because he knew David would not ask for assistance unless he really felt there was a problem.

“Hi there, Doctor Abbot,” Frank spoke in a tired voice. “I’m…I’m feeling a little sluggish and cold today…”

David gave Dr. Abbot a worried look, “I recommend a head-to-toe assessment and some bloodwork just as a precaution,” he replied in a concerned voice. “In the exam room.”

“If David…if he thinks I need it, I probably do,” Frank replied tiredly. “I can’t shake…whatever this is. I don’t know what’s wrong or what I did…”

Dr. Abbot gave Frank a look, “Phoenix…take a breath,” he replied gently. “This wasn’t caused by you. Sometimes bodies that are recovering from illness or injury…they rebel and do what they want even if the brain wants them to do something else. This isn’t your fault, okay?”

Frank managed a small nod, “By the way, while I was here last night, I reached out to Officer Hayes about your stuff and he says he’ll see about getting your things out of Evidence,” Dr. Abbot stated kindly as he fetched the wheelchair from the corner of the room and brought it over to the bed. “Whatever he can get, he’ll bring to the hospital, and I’ll pick it up on my next shift. Nobody has to come here who you don’t want to see. All right? Hey, David and I need to get you up and into the chair now, so we can take you to the exam room. Can you ask Oliver to move, please? He can come with us as long as he doesn’t get in the way during the exam.”

“Ollie, buddy, can you get down?” Frank asked softly, sighing tiredly when Oliver didn’t move. “Ollie…he…he must sense something I don’t. Ollie, please…I need you to move. I need to go to the exam room and get checked over by the medical staff. I’m not going to do anything that’s bad for me, okay?”

Only then did Oliver get down from the bed and Frank sighed tiredly before letting David and Dr. Abbot help him into the wheelchair. As Frank sat there, he could feel himself being disconnected from the heart monitor and everything else, but he didn’t say anything simply because his energy wasn’t there, nor did he want it force it. He suddenly felt someone gently squeeze his hand and he squeezed back.

“I’m here,” Frank replied softly. “I’m just tired. I don’t feel like talking. Is that okay?”

Dr. Abbot nodded, “That’s fine,” he stated gently. “As long as you communicate that to us, that’s fine. We’re just going to go to the exam room now and see what’s going on, okay? Here we go.”

Taking a deep breath, Frank tried to relax and focus on positive thoughts as he was wheeled from the room and into the other parts of the medical area of the Blue Mountain Wellness Centre.

It was about seven-thirty a.m. and Gloria was speaking to everyone in the ED about the importance of self-care and leaning on each other even in the face of situations like the ones they had faced in the last several days, but Robby wasn’t at the meeting. As it had gotten closer to seven a.m. and more people had arrived for the meeting, he had invited Randall and Elizabeth Langdon to share coffee with him in the quiet lounge while he quietly caught them up on what they didn’t know.

Robby had ever-so-reluctantly started with his accusation against Frank and how that had ultimately culminated in him finding Frank badly beaten in the park the next morning. During the course of treatment, Robby had explained, 4^th year medical student Dennis Whitaker had outed Frank as a victim of domestic violence after being a secret helper to Frank for months…

“Months?!” Elizabeth Langdon interrupted in a pained whisper. “He’s been dealing with this for months?! How many months, exactly?”

Randall Langdon, however, looked uneasy, “Do you think I could talk to this Dennis Whitaker fellow?” he asked in a concerned voice. “I want to know more about what my boy went through and how this Dennis helped him. Is that the same Dennis Whitaker I heard about on the news? The one who was attacked at the park?”

“Um, I could see if you meeting Dennis could be arranged,” Robby replied nervously. “And yes…it is.”

Randall’s eyes widened in shock and fear, “The news said Abby did that before she died,” he spoke shakily, a pained expression filling his face as he spoke. “What happened?”

Before Robby, who was suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of explaining everything to Frank’s parents, could reply, Santos suddenly wandered into the room and over to the fridge. She retrieved an icepack from the freezer and then paused at seeing Robby sitting with two older people who eerily resembled Frank Langdon, “Um, hi,” Santos spoke nervously, feeling uneasy.

“Doctor Trinity Santos, these are Doctor Langdon’s parents, Randall and Elizabeth,” Robby explained in a concerned voice. “Randall and Elizabeth, this is Doctor Trinity Santos…”

Santos looked surprised at how normal and how deeply concerned and how also very shaken the Langdons seemed, “Um, Dennis’s neck and head are bothering him, and he doesn’t want a painkiller, so I said I’d get him some ice,” she explained nervously. “Um, nice to meet you, Mister and Mrs. Langdon…both of you.”

“Do you know Dennis Whitaker?” Randall asked Santos softly. “I’d like to talk to him and to thank him for helping our boy. Doctor Robinavitch just told us that Frank’s been abused for months, but Dennis Whitaker helped him…”

Santos shot Robby a look, “He said months, huh?” she asked softly. “Uh huh…”

Randall and Elizabeth exchanged a worried look and Robby scowled, “Santos,” he warned darkly.

“When you put Doctor Langdon on the 302 hold, I overheard you and Doctor Abbot tell Doctor Underwood that Doctor Langdon said his son Oliver was killed in 2021,” Santos replied in a pained voice. “How do you know it wasn’t going on then? It might have been, and he just kept it quiet. I don’t necessarily like Doctor Langdon, but come on, man, do you think he’s just been hiding that big of a secret for just a few months? I think he’s been dealing with it since Oliver was killed and was getting tired of it by the time he got here. I remember you three were also talking about how Doctor Langdon was on the hold because he wandered out of the ED and tried to get himself hit by a car. Do you think he came to wanting to kill himself after just a few months of hell? Seriously? That kind of desire…it only comes after a very long time of crap building up inside. If abused people don’t have access to the right kind of help for crap they go through…if they get beaten or raped long enough and they think there’s no help out there…no intervention, no counseling, no escape, or no way to leave the situation behind…they think of dying as a joyful escape from their pain.”

Robby’s eyes narrowed worriedly, wondering if Santos was referring to Frank or to herself, but Santos focused her attention on Frank’s parents and avoided looking him in the eye, “I think it could have been going on for years,” Santos finished softly. “Anyway, I should get back to Dennis.”

Once Santos was out of the room, an uneasy silence filled the air that was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Dana, who had seen Santos come out of the lounge. Santos had mentioned that Robby was in the lounge with Frank’s parents and Dana had decided that she wanted to meet them, so she had ditched the ED-wide meeting. Robby nodded a hello to Dana and Dana smiled at him.

“Dana, this is Randall and Elizabeth Langdon, Doctor Langdon’s parents,” Robby explained in a quiet voice. “Um, this is Dana Evans, the ED’s charge nurse…”

Dana looked surprised, but she shook both Randall and Elizabeth’s hands, “We were told by Frank that his kids are in foster care,” Elizabeth explained shakily. “Do you know who we would talk to about maybe getting permission to at least visit them? We don’t want to disrupt whatever arrangement he made for them, but…we want to at least visit them. We were never allowed over during COVID…not even after restrictions eased, but Frank…he’d email us photos. Abby always said that Frank was too busy to see us. We want to get to know our grandkids if he’ll let us.”

“I can text him and see if he’ll give permission for that,” Robby replied softly, absolutely appalled at the fact that Abby had weaponized Frank’s parents in order to make Frank stay with her. “I don’t know where he is, but he’s texted me once. I can always text him and pass along your request.”

A look of relief filled Elizabeth’s face, “Thank you, Michael,” she replied softly.

“I can go do that now,” Robby spoke quietly, actually wanting to slip away and ask Santos what her little rant was about because it sounded more personal than more directed at Frank. “Dana…would you mind sitting with Doctor Langdon’s parents for a bit?”

Dana shrugged and Robby quickly retreated, not stopping until he reached Lance’s room. To his shock, Lance was awake and reading his chart while Whitaker sat very close to the bed with his eyes also on the chart while he held the icepack against his neck and Santos was likewise lingering close to the bed suddenly looking sad.

Oh, no. Robby realized grimly. Someone just dropped the results off and took off? Oh, no, no…

“Lance?” Robby spoke gently, quickly fishing the chart out of Lance’s hands and immediately seeing the test results were clipped to the top for all to see. “Um…did someone talk to you?”

Lance blinked as he eyed Robby, “About what?” he asked quietly, his expression pained as he glanced at Robby. “Treatment options? I knew it was back. I freaking knew it. I’m a nurse. And I was surviving it…until today. There are things…there are things that one just knows. I knew the moment the tiredness wouldn’t go away that I was probably sick again. What I don’t know, though, is how I’m gonna pay for treatment this time around or how I’m going to tell my husband or Doctor Abbot…”

“You know the church will help even if your job decides to be nasty about it,” Whitaker replied softly.

Lance sighed tiredly, “I need to phone my husband,” he replied softly. “And get it over with. I am not waiting til he gets here and watching him cry. He can do that in private. The whole idea of him crying stresses me out cause he didn’t do it last time and so he probably has years of tears built up...”

Before Whitaker asked if he should stay, Lance got on his phone and began to dial.

“How’s standing up feel?” Frank heard Lance ask softly as Frank stood on the scale in the exam room. “It’s okay if it feels weird. You haven’t done it in a while…”

Frank sighed and took a breath, “It is what it is,” he replied softly. “I know I’ve lost weight. Everything feels looser.”

Sighing, as he knew he wasn’t gonna get a better answer, David silently programmed the scale and quickly checked Frank’s weight and height, “Okay,” he spoke calmly. “You can sit down for this next part…if you want.”

“Could I please have some help to wherever I’m supposed to go?” Frank asked softly. “I’m okay just standing, but walking…”

Nodding, David helped Frank step off the scale and slowly walk over to the exam table while Dr. Abbot collected the data off the scale and made notes on Frank’s chart. Frank then felt himself being sat down and fitted with a pulse-ox clip and blood pressure cuff. He looked over towards the door where Oliver was sitting, silently sitting up and watching him and the goings-on around him intently, “I’m okay, boy,” he spoke softly. “I promise. They’re just checking me over.”

Swallowing hard, Frank silently focused his attention back on the exam and suddenly flinched, nearly jumping off the table in fright, when he felt hands on his head, “I’m sorry, I should have warned you more clearly,” David’s apologetic voice suddenly filled the air. “I did warn you, but I wasn’t sure if you could hear me. Are you all right?”

“I…I should have been paying better attention,” Frank admitted shakily. “I was just…distracted.”

Dr. Abbot silently made some notes on Frank’s chart and then watched and listened carefully while David carefully assessed Frank’s head, face, eyes, ears, healing nose, mouth and throat, neck and shoulder, lungs and thorax, and circulatory system. While all this was happening, Frank found himself going over the steps of the assessment in his head and suddenly froze when he realized what was next. I can’t. Frank thought grimly upon realizing that he would need to lie down flat with people towering over him and let people touch him. Oh, God. I’m tensing up. I…I have to breathe.

Swallowing hard, Frank lowered his head, “I…I can’t do this,” he breathed shakily as tears filled his eyes. “I can’t lie down and have people…tower over me…and touch me. Oh God…help me…I…the day of the PittFest shooting…before I came back to help…I was grabbed by my hair, kissed, pinned against the fridge, and then forced on to the kitchen floor where I was raped by my high as a kite, drunk wife because I tried to serve her divorce papers. She then made me shower so there was no proof it happened, but I still have the memories. I..I cannot lie down and you absolutely cannot make me. If you try, I will get up and I will limp out into the fecking rain right now and let myself get drenched right into pneumonia just so I don’t have to do it! I swear to God Almighty that I will do it…!”

Silence filled the room, but Frank didn’t care and simply allowed himself to cry. Suddenly, he felt himself being embraced gently, “I’m not suicidal anymore, but…but holy God…it was hard enough talking about being raped to Robby and to Dana,” Frank breathed shakily. “They were in the room when I did that and I think my nose bled and they were talking about sedating and intubating me. I bet they thought I was crazy and delusional. I bet they didn’t even put it in my chart.”

Dr. Abbot paused as he held Frank in a hug and he eyed David, who looked absolutely horrified at the revelation, “Go get Frank’s chart from the hospital,” he ordered in a concerned voice, hoping beyond hope that Robby hadn’t left that bit of information out of Frank’s chart even if he had thought it to be invented. “It’s at the desk.”

David immediately bolted from the room to get the chart. Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, silently held Frank and simply allowed him to cry his feelings out because he knew Frank needed to. He also knew there was no chance in hell that they would be able to continue with the exam now that this very disturbing fact had come to light.

A quiet growling noise suddenly filled the air and Dr. Abbot felt Frank sigh tiredly, “Um…I should probably have something to eat now,” Frank spoke in a quiet, subdued tone as Oliver suddenly came over and gently nudged his fingers. “I…God…I thought Dana had warned you. I thought someone had…”

“And why do I need to be warned?” Dr. Abbot asked softly. “It would have been helpful if I and the rest of the staff here had been told about that because it might have changed our approach, but you managed to tell us now and now we can help you recover from it. I don’t think we needed a warning, though, as that would imply that you’re dangerous and you’re most certainly not…”

Frank exhaled softly, “Michael…he might have wanted to help me with it himself, but…I think it overwhelmed him to see me hurt and know that I was hurt in that way and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he didn’t,” he spoke in a tired voice, not surprised if Robby had left mention of the rape out of his chart. “He’s always been protective of me, but he also always thinks he can take care of me himself even if the problem’s bigger than him. I know he wants to be my hero, my protector, and someone who keeps me safe and feeling loved. I appreciate it very much, as it shows he cares, but it also annoys me because he’s not a superhero with endless energy. He’s a very lovely human being with so many flaws that he often ignores…and that…that’s not a good thing.”

Exhaling softly, Frank slowly pulled away from Dr. Abbot, who looked thoughtful about Frank’s assessment of Robby, “Anyway, do you think it would be okay if I ate something?” he asked softly. “I know I can only have something pureed and that’s fine…but I am really hungry.”

“Would you like to try sitting in the common area today?” Dr. Abbot asked softly. “In your wheelchair?”

Relieved that he was being heard and acknowledged, Frank shrugged, “Sure,” he replied tiredly. “I…I can try that. Will…will you sit with me and could you…could you please help me with breakfast?”

“I can do that,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, nodding. “I can definitely do that.”

Breakfast was quiet and Frank hadn’t spoken at all. He had instead sat at a table in the common area close to the window in his wheelchair with Oliver at his side and had accepted every bit of applesauce and juice that Dr. Abbot had offered him without complaint or hesitation. It was early, so others weren’t around yet, but Frank was fine with that, as he wasn’t a very social person and never had been even when he was younger. He had been more into reading and solo activities.

When breakfast was over, Dr. Abbot had taken the dishes, gotten him a word search book, a pen, and a simple puzzle to wake his brain up, and had also gotten Oliver breakfast before he had gone off to see what was taking David so long. Frank had silently busied himself with the book while Oliver ate, as he truly had nothing better to do and wanted to get his mind off of his little pain-filled outburst and the memories associated with it, as he was truly embarrassed about all of it, but grateful he had managed to share about the experience in a safe place.

If only I had my journal. Frank suddenly thought as he was about halfway through the first puzzle. I need to write about this. I’m wondering…how do I deal with this now? I need to, but how?

“…I’m sorry, Amanda wanted to talk to me for a minute,” Frank suddenly heard David say in a distressed voice. “She got a call from Lance since I didn’t answer my phone and then on my way back here, I heard Frank’s phone go off and I thought he might want it. Also, someone called in sick, so I need to work a double…”

There was a silence and then Frank suddenly saw his phone being set on the table in front of him, “Here,” David spoke in a quiet, but kind voice. “I heard it go off and thought you might want it.”

Frank looked up at David and paused when he suddenly saw a sadness in David’s eyes that the younger man was trying to hide with a kind expression, “Thank you,” he replied softly. “Are you okay?”

David offered a sad smile, “I’m trying to be,” he replied gently as he took a seat at the table. “How are you doing? You’re looking a little better.”

“I was able to eat breakfast today,” Frank replied softly. “Apple juice and applesauce. It wasn’t a lot, but…it’s something. It’s usually more than I eat…it’s more than I’ve eaten for a while.”

David nodded thoughtfully, “And Doctor Abbot left me stuff to do to wake my brain up,” Frank continued tiredly. “All I want to do, though, is write in my journal about what happened in the exam room. Isn’t that strange? I can’t stop thinking about it. I freaked out about it in front of you and Doctor Abbot and now I want to write about it. I…I hope I’m not obsessing over it…”

“It’s part of your healing,” David replied gently. “You wanting to write it down means you’re accepting it as reality and wanting to address it. Nobody’s mad about it. Would you like me to get your journal from your room?”

Frank nodded and David got up, “Okay,” David replied gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

As David left the common area, Frank silently checked his phone and frowned when he saw that he had a text message from his mother. Mom texted me? Frank wondered, suddenly deeply confused. We haven’t talked since I bought them that house and since I moved them. Why is Mom texting me? I did text her and Dad about me being in the hospital…but…I never expected her to actually…

Swallowing hard, Frank silently accessed the text and felt intense confusion as he read it.

Frank,

Sweet, sweet, little Frank. This is your mother, but consider this text from both me and your dad. We love you and miss you. We miss you so very much, our sweet son. We’re sorry you’re not well right now and that you’ve been through so much. Whenever you’re ready to talk to us, we definitely want to talk to you and hug you and let you know that you’re most definitely loved just as you are.

Love,

Mom and Dad

Frank suddenly paused, deeply taken aback by his mother’s message and the love that was in it, as Abby had always emphasized to him that he needed to act a certain way and live as she told him to or his parents would not love him. She had also been the one to tell him how angry they were about the article and how they had insisted that he stay with his wife and cut off contact with…

And he had believed her…as there was no reason to believe that Abby would ever lie to him.

This text message from his mother, however, made Frank realize that Abby…she had used his parents as weapons to manipulate him into staying in their unhappy situation until death had parted them even if it had killed him physically, mentally, and emotionally in the process.

Suddenly, Frank didn’t feel good….at all.

The cognitive dissonance…it’s giving me a headache and making me feel very unwell. Frank thought grimly to himself as he realized that what Abby had told him were outright lies and that he had trusted her lies instead of trying to reach out to his parents himself. She had exploited his trusting nature and the vulnerable state he had been in after Oliver’s death, and she had kept him trapped like a fly in a spider’s web by weaponizing his parents to make him think he was truly alone.

Exhaling weakly, Frank closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply until he was calm. He opened his eyes again just in time to see David sit back down beside him and offer him his journal, which had his pen clipped to it. David gave him a concerned look, as he had seen Frank look uncomfortable, close his eyes, and engage in a breathing exercise to calm himself down before Oliver could alert. Frank sighed and hesitated briefly before giving David a look.

“I…I think I’m having a moment of cognitive dissonance,” Frank spoke quietly. “My mother just texted me and her message…it said she and my dad love me as I am and a lot of other really nice stuff, but Abby…Abby always told me the opposite. I’m…I’m just very confused and it’s giving me a headache. Am I approved for counseling yet or does that not start til I start my actual program?”

David sighed patiently, “At this stage, anything you might want in terms of treatment has to be approved by your medical advocate because they make the call about what is or what isn’t medically safe for you,” he explained gently. “They make that call because you can’t and you’ve already acknowledged that you’re not fully able or ready to make safe decisions for yourself more than once. You can certainly talk to your medical advocate about what you want to do, but Doctor Abbot may want you to take your time because counseling can be a mentally taxing thing for anyone, especially someone who has been in a situation like you’ve endured. Here at Blue Mountain Wellness Centre, we want patients to be physically sound before they start on their mental, emotional, and psychological recoveries. In terms of a physical recovery, you’re getting there, but you’re not there yet and I can tell you that with certainty. I know things…like the texts…don’t make sense and it’s good that you’re acknowledging that, but you have us nurses and your medical advocate that you can talk to about them and you are welcome to use us as sounding boards to see if you can actually handle talking about your feelings and experiences with a counselor. And you have your journal if you can’t be verbal with your feelings. You see, Frank, we’re not just annoying you on purpose with our constant invitations to talk. We’re encouraging you to talk to us so that we can see whether or not you’re physically up to counseling. You’re still struggling to communicate verbally at times and at other times, you have concerning reactions to things and so I really do not think at this point, trying to set you up with an actual counselor is a wise decision. Especially after this morning. I think it will only prove harmful to you and your recovery long-term. Doctor Abbot’s actually reviewing your chart right now in light of what you shared with us and having another little fight with the care team and trying to get you the 60 days he originally requested because he really thinks you need it, but I don’t know if he’ll get it because of stuff going on with Administration that has absolutely nothing to do with you or me. Now, Frank, you really don’t have to take my advice, but I really wish you would consider doing so. I’ve been a nurse for 12 years…”

Frank’s eyes widened, “12 years?!” he replied in a surprised voice, looking dumbfounded at that.

“I graduated high school as I turned 17, got my LPN degree as I turned 18, and then worked part-time at clinics while getting my RN,” David explained in an amused voice. “I was an LPN at 18 and then got my RN by the time I was 20. I know I don’t look old enough to have worked in the field for 12 years, but…”

Frank scoffed, “And I don’t look old enough to have done the stuff I did, but…we all have our surprises, I guess,” he replied softly. “I’m personally surprised about this text from my mother. When I was growing up, she and my dad…they were always pushing me to reach for high things and be my best self…and it stressed me out, but I managed…or at least, I tried”

David suddenly looked thoughtful, “I think…and just listen to what I’m getting from this before you argue…I think they might have been pushing you to do and be your best at all times and that…your brain might have misinterpreted that as needing to be perfect and you might have gotten disappointed with yourself because you couldn’t be perfect all of the time,” he replied gently. “Your brain may have also responded to your disappointment by prompting you to make bad decisions or find comfort in situations that you weren’t entirely sure were good ones…”

“Like Abby,” Frank realized grimly. “I…I wasn’t sure about her, cause she was really into partying, and I never was, but my parents…they seemed to like her.”

David raised an eyebrow, “Or they thought that you were happy, and they wanted to encourage your happiness,” he explained gently. “Your brain…it may have misinterpreted that, and you thought that they wanted you to stay where it wasn’t safe. And the way your brain interpreted things…that isn’t your fault at all. Some brains are built differently, and your brain is one of those that is built differently. It’s not a bad or wrong thing. You just don’t know how to manage that…not yet, anyway. You’ve certainly tried, but it’s overwhelmed you to the point where you’ve gotten very, very unwell. That’s why you being here is a very good thing. Here, you can learn why your brain is working the way it does and learn how to adapt your decision making and your life to how your brain works…”

“You’d make a hell of a therapist,” Frank interrupted in a surprised voice. “You know that?

David scoffed, but looked amused, “My professors also told me that because I was always a very good listener and a supportive classmate to others in school, but I never liked the idea of being a psychologist,” he replied gently, really not wanting to share that his experiences with conversion therapy, an experience that had been forced upon him by his parents, had turned him off to wanting to be a psychologist and had also made him develop an aversion to counseling in general. “I’m fine as an RN, but thank you very much for the compliment. I can barely tolerate seeing therapists when I’m made to. Anyway, there’s your journal…”

“Are you okay?” Frank asked, suddenly noticing distress in David’s face, a distress that indicated David himself had suffered some sort of abuse. “You seem…who hurt you? I can tell someone did.”

David exhaled sharply, but didn’t stand or run away because he realized that Frank wouldn’t hurt him or judge him for sharing, as the man had selflessly helped his husband and truly cared even though he himself wasn’t well, “When I was a teenager, I realized I was gay and I tried to talk to my parents about it,” David explained softly, giving Frank a sad look. “My parents, however, were very religious and got extremely pissed off. They forced me to meet with the family church leader and undergo conversion therapy, but I had a violent reaction to it, nearly died, and spent my high school years in a foster home after neighbors called the police and my parents, and their religious leader were all arrested for child abuse. They all got life in prison cause my near death experience was deemed a hate crime. Officer Hayes was actually one of those officers who responded to that call and he and his family took me in after I got out of the hospital and they also paid for my schooling. He and Doctor Abbot were friends and Doctor Abbot…he sorta had a hand in helping take care of me when I almost died. Officer Hayes was working the night Lance and I got married, otherwise he would have come, but he told Doctor Abbot about it and Doctor Abbot brought some scruffy dude as a plus-one instead...”

“Your parents were fecking monsters,” Frank replied darkly, his expression full of sadness and anger. “You’re a gift, David. As someone who lost a child to a violent spouse, I can tell you that children are gifts and should be loved unconditionally just as they are. Whatever feelings parents may have about their children or about each other, children are innocent and should not be affected or harmed by feelings of their parents. Your parents may have been upset about your sexuality, but they should have dealt with those feelings by themselves or through a counselor. They should not have taken their anger out on you or forced you into a harmful situation just to make themselves feel better about something they were uncomfortable with. They were uncomfortable about you being gay, but they didn’t wanna address their feelings, so they subjected you to harm with the hope that they could erase or change that part of you instead of just letting themselves just love you as you are. That was wrong of them to do. You were their son, and they should have loved you and treated you right. You are valuable, and you deserve to be loved just as you are. You are a person, David. A very valuable person. Not a punching bag. I know this may sound rude, by the way, but your parents and that religious leader…they all deserve to rot in prison and die there.”

David sighed and suddenly looked amused, “I sincerely thank you for that,” he said in an encouraging tone, warmed by Frank’s words. “I also think you might make a good counselor or even a good doctor again if you ever choose to go back to that once you’re well enough to. I know you’ve had your struggles with it, but maybe you shouldn’t give up on it just yet. You have struggles, yes, but who’s perfect? Nobody. I think you could do a lot of good once you get well. However, you have to let yourself get well first and stop being afraid of that. I truly think you’re afraid of getting well above all else. You want to get well, but you don’t know what that looks like. And that’s okay. We can help you stop being afraid, but we can only help you if you let us. We cannot help you if you don’t let us. By the way, what you said was not rude…my parents and their religious leader…do deserve to be in prison. I’ve disowned them in my heart and so I thank you for referring to them in the past tense. They are…it’s better for me to consider them dead to me because I am dead to them. Anyway, Frank, we care about you here. We want to help you. You just to have to want to help yourself.”

Frank paused, unsure of what to say because David’s words were hitting home, but he needed a moment to figure out a response that wouldn’t prove overwhelming or harmful. Thankfully for him, David could tell he needed a moment and looked content to wait. As they sat there in silence, Dr. Abbot and Amanda wandered over to them, having just come out of a meeting with each other and with the care board. They eyed Frank and David, noticed the peaceful expressions that both were sporting on their faces, and how at peace they both looked and realized that a deep conversation must have taken place that had proven helpful to both Frank and David.

“Morning,” Dr. Abbot finally spoke gently. “Um, Phoenix, I have what I hope is a very pleasant update for you. Amanda and I had a very serious meeting with the care team just a bit ago because of what happened in the exam room and we twisted their arm, but we got you a 60-day care plan, plus we also secured you a minimum of 30 days in the DCFS Family Centre where you can reconnect with your kids after your treatment plan here is done. Your care plan will begin next week, but we’ll take it slow and you won’t be given a therapist yet. I’ll still be your medical advocate, you’ll still be in the room that you’re in, and we’ll just take it one day at a time, okay?”

Frank nodded, still not sure what to say because he was pleased he had more time, but he didn’t know how to react to it. He finally turned his attention to his phone and decided to mention the text message from his mother because his cognitive dissonance regarding it was a tangible feeling that made sense. It was something he could at least say didn’t make sense to him.

As Dr. Abbot sat down at the table and Amanda moved off, Frank sighed and looked at him, “Um, my mother texted me,” Frank spoke quietly, offering the phone to him. “The message…it doesn’t make sense with what Abby told me and I’m trying to figure out what’s actually true. I…I need to talk to my parents, I know, but…I’m scared. I’m scared to talk to them, and Robby, and everyone else. I owe everyone a lot of explanations and apologies and conversations, but nothing…absolutely nothing…makes sense to me yet…I’m trying to make it make sense, but…I can’t…not yet.”

“And you owe yourself time to get things making sense to you,” Dr. Abbot explained gently. “You owe yourself time and space to put yourself first without anyone else or anything else getting in the way.”

Frank nodded, suddenly feeling tired, “I’m feeling sleepy,” he spoke softly, rubbing his eyes. “I think I need to go for a bed for a while. I’ll do my affirmations and my water drinking and my journal, but…”

“Later,” Dr. Abbot cut in in a gentle, but firm voice. “Prioritize yourself and rest when you need to. Okay, Phoenix?”

Frank nodded and looked at Oliver, “I think he needs to go out,” he spoke softly. “Can someone…?”

“I could use a good walk in the rain,” David replied kindly as he got up out of his chair, as he wanted time by himself to process what Amanda had told him about Lance’s cancer returning. “I’ll do it.”

As David took Oliver outside, Frank’s phone buzzed again and Frank checked it, as he still had it in his hand. He saw a message from Robby and hesitated briefly before he checked it.

Hey Frank,

Your mom wanted me to ask you if she and your dad could visit Tanner and Maria while they were in foster care at Dana’s. I didn’t tell your parents they’re currently at Dana’s, don’t worry. Your parents want to get to know their grandchildren, but they don’t want to disrupt any arrangements you made for them. They’re actually gonna hang around the ED for a while today cause they wanna talk to Dennis and other people so they can get to know who you are. They love you and are worried about you. You can take your time answering their request. I hope you’re doing okay…wherever you are.

Love,

Michael

Exhaling tiredly, Frank set the phone on the table, “I’m not dealing with this now,” he muttered softly even though he was truly curious and concerned about what Dennis and what others would have to tell his parents about who he was. “I need to sleep before I deal with anything else today.”

Wondering what Frank was talking about, but not wanting to engage the very tired man in more conversation until after he had slept, as he had expressed a clear need and desire to sleep before doing anything else, Dr. Abbot silently moved the phone into the pocket of Frank’s hooded jacket while putting the journal and word search book into Frank’s lap. Then, Dr. Abbot took the brake off of Frank’s chair and gently wheeled him back to his room without trying to start a conversation.

Once back in the hospital room, Dr. Abbot carefully set the wheelchair brake and then carefully helped Frank back into bed. Once he was laying down with the blanket over his body and the oxygen tube in his nose, Frank quickly drifted off and so Dr. Abbot kept quiet while setting him down so not to wake him, as he could tell that Frank was completely exhausted and really needed to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was around 9 a.m. when Officer Hayes arrived at The Pitt with Frank’s clothes and other, very few personal items, packed in brand new suitcases that he had bought himself. He had gotten a call hours ago that Frank was ready for his things and to leave them at the ED once the police were ready to release them, so he had taken everything, had it cleaned, and packed it in fresh bags so Frank wouldn’t look at it and be reminded of the painful situation he had been freed from.

“Excuse me,” Officer Hayes spoke softly as he approached the desk where Gloria was sitting, silently reviewing Frank’s chart on the computer and everyone’s notes associated with it. “My name is Officer Daniel Hayes, and I was wondering where I might find Doctor Abbot?”

Gloria eyed Officer Hayes and the suitcases silently, an expression of confusion filling her face as she did so, “I was asked by Doctor Abbot to bring these to the ED for Doctor Langdon,” Officer Hayes explained quietly. “I don’t want a lot of attention brought to these things or to myself…”

A look of understanding crossed Gloria’s face as she nodded, got up, and came around the desk, “How is he?” she asked softly. “Doctor Langdon?”

“I have no idea, honestly,” Officer Hayes replied quietly, shrugging. “I just got a call from Doctor Abbot asking for Doctor Langdon’s stuff. Doctor Abbot said he’d collect it from here. I actually texted him that I’d be bringing it by this morning and he said he’d meet me…”

Before Gloria could respond, she spotted Dr. Abbot silently enter The Pitt and wander over to the desk, “Hey, Daniel, how are you, man?” Dr. Abbot spoke in a kind, but quiet voice, gently embracing the officer.

“I brought the stuff you asked for, but I had it cleaned up and put it all in fresh bags,” Officer Hayes explained gently. “I thought it would make it easier for him. I also got him a fresh iPod cause his earpods were wrecked and transferred all his music over.”

Dr. Abbot nodded and took the bags, “Papa Dan?” Lance’s quiet voice suddenly filled the air.

Officer Hayes turned towards the voice and frowned when he suddenly spotted Lance sitting in a hospital bed with a blonde and a brunette sitting beside him, “Oh my God, Lance?!” he spoke in a horrified voice, his eyes widening in shock as he ran towards the exam room. “God, baby boy. Why…?”

“Can you give any information at all about Doctor Langdon, Doctor Abbot?” Gloria asked softly, quickly directing Dr. Abbot’s attention to her. “Is he well? Is he safe?”

Dr. Abbot sighed, “Doctor Langdon is alive,” he replied softly, shaking his head just as Robby led Randall and Elizabeth Langdon out of the lounge. “That’s all I can legally tell you, Gloria.”

Robby froze at the mention of Frank, as did Randall and Elizabeth, but none of them spoke as Dr. Abbot silently left with the suitcases, “Doctor Abbot’s in contact with Frank?” Robby asked in a confused voice, giving Gloria a look as he approached the desk. “Gloria, have you met Frank’s parents yet?”

Gloria shook her head, “Randall and Elizabeth Langdon, this is Doctor Gloria Underwood, the Chief Medical Officer of the hospital,” Robby explained softly. “Gloria…Randall and Elizabeth…they came looking for information on Frank cause he sent them a text message from wherever he is.”

“Nobody knows where he is,” Gloria replied firmly even though she knew that Dr. Shen and Dana did know. “If Doctor Langdon wants you to know, he’ll tell you if and when he wants you to know.”

Robby scoffed, his expression indicating that he didn’t believe her, but Gloria gave him a look, “I believe you have patients,” she spoke firmly. “I suggest you get to work seeing them.”

Giving Gloria another dark look, Robby moved away and back over to Lance’s room because he was curious as to why Officer Hayes was suddenly in there, “We’ve just been sitting in the lounge getting caught up on what’s happened to our son over the last several days,” Randall explained in a distressed voice. “I…I’m shocked and sad. How…how did nobody think to call us and tell us?”

“We know now, Randy,” Elizabeth spoke softly, gently side-hugging her husband. “Why don’t you try texting him? If that’s all we can do right now…it’ll have to be enough.”

Swallowing hard, as he did not agree with his wife’s passive approach at all, but he knew it would not be good idea to argue with her in front of the staff that had failed Frank in such a brutally painful way, Randy nodded and pulled his phone out as he moved into Chairs for privacy.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, stayed at the desk with Gloria, “Doctor Robinavitch told us everything about the last several days, but what can you tell me about it?” she asked firmly, suddenly looking angry. “One of the things that Doctor Robinavitch told us is that Frank left of his own accord, which is something I can’t make sense of. Why did he leave here and feel the need to go somewhere else if you were all taking such good care of him here?”

Taken aback by Elizabeth Langdon’s sudden anger, Gloria found herself at a loss for how to reply.

Bzz…bzz…

Oliver whined at the noise, but Frank remained asleep because he was still tired and had no desire to get up at that particular moment. The vibrating continued, however, and Oliver’s whining continued along with it, so Frank forced himself to wake up. He saw his phone vibrating on the portable table and frowned at it, as someone was obviously calling him even after he had clearly expressed a desire for no calls for the time being.

After a moment, the vibrating stopped, and Frank slowly reached for the phone. He frowned when he saw who had called.

Dad.

Swallowing hard, Frank silently stared at the number for a moment before pressing the redial button as well as the speaker button so that he wouldn’t struggle to hear his father.

In his conversation with David, Frank had noticed that it was slightly easier to hear out of one ear than the other and he hoped that his hearing hadn’t been damaged by domestic violence, but he was almost sure that it had. Even though he had originally said no phone calls, Frank knew a call with his father would help him figure out if he had developed a hearing issue that the hospital hadn’t originally caught.

“Hello?” Randall Langdon’s voice filled the air as Frank turned his left ear towards the phone and found the sound slightly harder to ear. “Hello?”

Suddenly feeling a little afraid, Frank turned his right ear towards the phone, “Hi,” he replied in a quiet voice. “Hi…Dad. It’s…it’s Frank.”

There was a silence and a slight sniffle, which Frank found easier to hear through his right ear, “Hi pal,” Randall replied in a gentle, but emotion-filled voice. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear your voice again too, Dad,” Frank replied softly. “Um…I’ve missed you.”

Frank thought he could hear a smile through the phone, “I’ve missed you too, buddy,” Randall replied in a gentle voice. “I miss everything about you.”

Exhaling softly, Frank paused briefly before he spoke again, “Um, Dad, why don’t we see about trying to hang out together for a bit?” he asked nervously, knowing that they had to see each other in person sooner or later. “Um, are you busy for lunch? I…I don’t know if I’m ready for Mom yet…”

“It can just be us two,” Randall replied gently. “Do you want me to bring you anything?”

Frank sighed, “I’m only allowed to drink juices and purees and eat pureed food right now,” he spoke in a quiet tone. “And I’ve only got the use of one arm right now and my ankle’s busted too…”

“I’ll help you with whatever you need, kiddo,” Randall promised softly. “It’s okay. I’m just happy that you’re trusting me…that you’re trusting me enough to let me visit you. Where are you, anyway?”

Frank was silent for a moment, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m in a place called Blue Mountain Wellness Center,” he replied softly. “It’s up in the Mount Washington area. It’s for mental and physical recovery. It’s actually kind of hard to explain what this place is, but I’ve been here for about five days dealing with bad physical stuff and just resting. They had me on a Psych hold at the Pitt, Dad, and I just got sick of it. It felt like prison, and I heard about this place, so I decided to check it out…”

“I’ll put it into my GPS,” Randall promised softly. “And I’ll come by myself. For lunch. Okay?”

Frank sighed, “Okay,” he replied quietly. “Um, I’m going to go now. I’m a little tired. I love you. Maybe come around 12-ish?”

“Love you too, buddy,” Randall spoke warmly. “I’ll see you at 12, okay?”

Swallowing hard, Frank ended the call and stared at the phone. What had he just done?

I only phoned my dad to test my hearing, and I ended up inviting him for lunch. Frank thought to himself, wondering what had led him to actually invite his father to visit him in this place. What the hell led me to be so open with my dad and actually invite him here after barely seeing him for the last few years? Maybe…maybe, it won’t be so bad. I do miss him. And he seems to miss me.

As Frank sat there, contemplating his recent decision, he suddenly heard footsteps approach from the right, so he turned his head in that direction and was surprised to see David approaching, “Hey, Frank, Oliver’s whining,” David spoke in a concerned voice, giving Frank a concerned look. “He needs to go out again, I think. Can you not hear him?”

“Not well,” Frank admitted in a pained voice, suddenly feeling scared. “I answered a phone call from my dad, and it was easier to hear in my right ear than my left…”

Concern filled David’s face, but he nodded and quickly pressed the call button before he turned his attention to calming the scared looking Frank, “I need some help to deal with this, but we’ll get you through whatever’s going on, okay?” he spoke gently. “Just take a breath and remember…you’re safe.”

Nodding, Frank took a deep breath and tried not to focus on what was happening to him.

An hour later, Frank found himself laying in the centre’s CT machine with only his gown, scrub pants, and socks for warmth after David had alerted Amanda to the hearing issue. They had then paid a visit to the centre’s audiology team, who had gotten Frank in to see someone right away as soon as David had explained what was going on and at that point, Frank was hoping the issue was simply in his head and there wasn’t really something wrong with his hearing, as it truly terrified him to think of himself having hearing loss in addition to whatever disability he might get diagnosed with through the pending assessment. He knew, however, that there were sounds in the test that he couldn’t hear. He knew it and David and Amanda both knew it…and he didn’t say anything about his grim feelings after the fact, as he didn’t want them to worry, as he could tell that they were already worried enough about the issue. He instead just pet Oliver in silence to keep himself calm.

After the visit to the audiologist had confirmed that Frank’s hearing loss was in fact real, David and Amanda had called Dr. Abbot about the situation and he had authorized them to get started with a CT and MRI while he made his way back to the center, as he had been at the hospital doing a few hours of work and getting Frank’s clothes from Officer Hayes.

Now, David and Amanda were with the tech, as was Oliver, and Frank found himself laying in the tube alone with his thoughts and wondering why and how he had gotten there.

How did I let things get so bad? Frank thought grimly. I’m lying in a tube getting assessed for what…potential hearing loss that was probably caused by a traumatic brain injury? I got this because I didn’t leave when I should have. I was stupid and didn’t listen to Dennis. Dennis was always gently encouraging me to find a safer place than my home to sleep. He never outright told me to leave, but I knew he wanted me to. Now, because I didn’t listen, I’m in hell. I’m broken.

Frank was so lost in his thoughts of self-blame and grief that he didn’t realize how much time had passed until he could feel himself being pulled out of the tube. He blinked when he realized that he was looking up at Dr. Abbot, “Hey Phoenix,” Dr. Abbot spoke gently. “Hell of a day you’re having, huh?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied tiredly. “I…I actually invited my dad for lunch today when I called him back to check my hearing. It was weird, but I did it without passing out or getting scared…”

Dr. Abbot looked surprised, but pleased, “Well, Phoenix, if your dad’s coming for lunch, we should get the MRI done so you can get ready for that if you want to,” he replied gently. “Officer Hayes got me your clothes, and I brought them. They’re in your room.”

“Thank you,” Frank replied softly. “Maybe I’ll feel more like a person with fresh clothes on. Can…can you help me up, please? I only have one arm and one leg right now.”

Dr. Abbot complied and also helped Frank back into his chair, “Do you think you or one of the nurses could be nearby and keep an eye on the visit between my dad and I just in case things go to hell in a hurry?” Frank found himself asking in a quiet, but worried voice. “We haven’t really talked in a few years and…I don’t know how things will go.”

“We were going to do that anyway,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “David overheard your call, and he mentioned it to me while you were in the tube. It’s good, though, that you’re acknowledging that visiting with your father might be difficult for you. You’ll have whatever support you need to be able to get through it.”

Frank sighed, “Thank you,” he said softly. “Now…now what do we do?”

“Well, we’re going to do an MRI now and then the results will be processed while you have lunch with your father and decompress from that,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “I work at the hospital tonight, so you can just take it easy tonight if you want to. This rain…it’s supposed to last for a few days…”

Frank sighed, “I might just sit in the common room and watch the rain tonight,” he replied quietly. “I’ve always just wanted to sit and watch it rain, but stuff…things in life…or my mind…would always get in the way…Um, anyway, you said something about an MRI?”

“Mhm,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, nodding. “You ready to go and get that done, Phoenix?”

Frank nodded, “All right,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “We’ll go and get that done then.”

The MRI had been quick and quiet, at least in Frank’s mind, and he had been so grateful when he had finally been able to go back to the safety of his room because the CT and MRI tubes had made him feel slightly vulnerable and claustrophobic, but he hadn’t wanted to say anything because he didn’t want to face the potential reality of it all: that his hearing loss may have been a result of domestic violence that he had continually returned to despite Dennis’s counsel to leave.

Thankfully, David hadn’t commented on his silence and had instead helped him change into a clean pair of loose pants, clean socks, and a clean shirt, and had also helped him get the hooded jacket back on as well as Dr. Shen’s lent out shoe. Frank had wanted to keep using the shoe and the hooded jacket for a hint of familiarity, as he had been using those particular clothes since he had been in the center and his own clothes felt unfamiliar to him, but he wanted to look nice for his dad.

After he was dressed, Frank had quietly done two rounds of affirmations in the mirror and had made some very scattered notes in his journal before just spending some time sitting in his wheelchair by the window, gently petting Oliver in silence. Again, David hadn’t commented on Frank’s silence, but had merely lingered by the door patiently and watching intently in case Frank needed anything or simply just wanted to talk.

Before Frank knew it, it was close to noon, and he found himself asking David to help him to the dining room because he was still very much reliant on the wheelchair to get around even though he didn’t want to be. David had very patiently taken him there, had settled him at a table, and then had offered to go find his father for him, as his father was probably unsure of where to go.

Frank had quietly accepted the offer and had turned his attention to petting Oliver while David was gone, as his anxiety was slowly beginning to get the better of him even though he was trying to keep that from happening. Oliver could tell his master was anxious, so he was doing his best to be there for him. One thing that Frank had purposely chosen not to do was look at the time because that would only make his brain wonder if his father was late and why and make up stories about the reasoning. He just kept telling himself that his father had promised to come and to trust that.

It's definitely bad when I can’t even trust my own mind. Frank thought grimly as he stared down at the floor in silence, a disturbed expression on his face. But I clearly can’t now. I let it keep me in a bad space where I almost died. I have to start over with everything…even my own mind. Slowly.

A pair of unfamiliar looking shoes suddenly came into Frank’s view and he froze briefly before he looked up and saw his father standing there holding a cloth bag. Instead of forcing conversation or a hug, however, Randall Langdon immediately got himself a chair and sat himself at the table so that they were at eye level with each other.

The two sat there together in silence for several moments before Frank sighed, “Hi Dad,” he spoke quietly. “Um, what do you think?”

“What do I think?” Randall repeated quietly, looking surprised at the question. “I think it’s good to see you, Frank. That’s what I think.”

Frank shrugged, as he wasn’t entirely sure if he was entirely happy with himself as he was presenting, but Randall sighed patiently, “I’m happy and grateful that you’re my son and that you’re alive so that I can tell you that,” Randall continued softly. “I know you’re not feeling very good or good about yourself right now, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re not well and I’m sorry you feel like you’re alone in this very hard battle that you’re going through, but you’re most definitely not.”

For a moment, Frank was silent and then he nodded before offering his hand to his father. Randall immediately took it and gave it a gentle squeeze, “You are the only son I have left, Frank, and I sure as hell don’t want to lose you,” Randall spoke in a gentle, slightly shaky voice as he gave his son a slightly teary look. “I love you lots, pal. I know you might not believe that or love yourself very much right now, but…the good beliefs in others love for you and the love for yourself…that will come.”

Frank suddenly gave his father a look, “I guess that schooling you did after Jerry died helped you heal pretty good, huh?” he asked softly. “You got your Bachelor’s, Master’s, and even your PhD……”

“Oh, kiddo, that gave me something new to do while your mom was home with you cause I couldn’t see myself going back to work where I was working when he was killed, as I worked at that park, but it was my day off when we were there that day,” Randall replied in a gentle, slightly somber voice, his expression somber even though he was surprised that Frank had brought Jerry up. “I’m still not healed from what happened to your brother, though. That kind of a loss…having a child killed by an act of senseless violence…that’s something that never fully goes away and I’ve learned that it can’t, but there’s help out there to make it hurt a little less. I still go to support groups and counseling for it…”

David, who was lingering nearby, suddenly paused at the mention of a ‘Jerry Langdon’ being killed by an act of senseless violence, as that had most definitely not been mentioned anywhere in any of Frank’s records. Instead of running to tell Dr. Abbot or Amanda, however, he simply remained where he was to see if any more information was given about Jerry Langdon or his death.

Even though the common room was beginning to fill with others from various parts of the center who were coming to enjoy lunch, visits, recreational activities, or quiet meditation, Frank simply focused his attention on his father and sighed, “I never told anyone about Jerry, Dad, not even Abby,” he replied in a quiet, somber tone. “I mean…who the hell attacks a kid’s playground with a gun in the middle of the day and tries to rob a guy and his kids and then shoots the place up just cause the guy has no money? I…I still remember the guy laughing as he stood over Jerry’s…”

“The guy was drunk and high on drugs, Frank, and he was looking for a way to get more,” Randall explained softly, unaware that David was lingering in the distance, silently texting Amanda and Dr. Abbot on his work phone about what he was overhearing because it was disturbing, but essential information that they needed to know. “That’s what the police told me after they found and arrested him. It was senseless and it was terrible…and it was why I became a psychologist with a focus on family counseling. There’s so much crap that happens that affects families, and I felt that I could take my trauma…the loss of your older brother…and turn it into something useful that could help families. I took the settlement from that situation, as I did sue him once he had sobered up, and I buried your brother and used a good chunk of it to go to school and also get a practice going. I wish, looking back, that I had pushed to get you to see a child psychologist, though. I don’t think you ever got to grieve…”

Frank sighed, “I really don’t know how to do that,” he admitted softly. “My brain…it just sort of told me Jerry was gone and it just made me too anxious to think about it, so I didn’t. Hell, I didn’t even grieve when Oliver was killed. My brain just sort of shut it off. I think something’s wrong with it…and me. I mean, who the hell can’t do that sort of thing? Grieve? I…I’ve been told that I probably have some sort of disability. When I was in the hospital, I sort of had these spells where I was so overwhelmed that…that I couldn’t speak or even be awake. I think it was catatonia. They’re getting me to talk here, though, and Oliver…he tells me if something’s wrong…that’s his job.”

Randall suddenly looked intrigued as he looked at the golden retriever that was sporting the service vest, “I lied to people at work and said he was for Tanner and Maria, but I…then I noticed him picking up on when I wasn’t feeling good mentally and emotionally, so I started getting him trained for me,” Frank explained quietly. “He’s only certified as an emotional support dog right now as I need to know what the hell is officially going with me on to get him fully certified as a psychiatric service dog and Abby…she withheld him…as…as punishment…so it’s been hard….”

Randall’s eyes widened slightly at that, but he quickly composed himself, “Um, I’m hoping that during the 60 days I’m here that I can get things sorted out with that,” Frank spoke nervously, suddenly feeling his anxiety spike as he began to think about the mountain that was his recovery. “I’m going to be doing a 60-day program here starting next week, actually. After that, I’ll be living in the DCFS Family Shelter with Tanner and Maria for 30 days so we can reconnect as a family. I…I think it’s best. I…I’m talking way too much…Just a minute.”

Frank went quiet, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to compose himself because he could feel himself starting to really slip into anxiety. Suddenly, he felt something soft being placed in his lap. He opened his eyes to find a medium-sized black and white Husky stuffie in his lap, a stuffie that he hadn’t seen since he was a little kid, “Jake?” he asked in a quiet voice, not willing to touch the toy immediately because he wasn’t sure if he could keep it. “Where…?”

“We kept all of your stuff,” Randall explained gently. “That’s yours to keep and sleep with. And…your mom and I…we have room to spare…so she’s actually getting bits and pieces of it out to decorate a room for you and to decorate a room for Tanner and Maria. When you’re all done with your treatment center and your time in the shelter, Frank, we want you, Tanner, and Maria to come and live with us so the pressure’s off you to find a new place to live. Living with us will mean you can continue to focus on your recovery and your well-being even when you’re away from the facilities. Your mom doesn’t know where you are, as I did not tell her because you asked me to just keep it between us, but she’s smart…and she figures you’re in an in-patient place somewhere getting help because the hospital…it couldn’t give you the help you needed and the hospital didn’t understand that you struggle to communicate your needs because of this undiagnosed disability you have and your experiences…those have also made it hard for you to feel safe communicating your needs. And those struggles…those are not your fault, kiddo. Okay?”

Frank nodded, suddenly looking subdued because he was relieved about having a place to go, but he was also pained about not being able to take care of himself or his kids, “It takes the pressure off, but I don’t even know who I’ll be when all this crap is over and done with,” he admitted quietly. “Or if I’ll be even be able to work again. I signed a thing saying I’d work under conditions, but I also told the chief medical officer I needed time, and she put me on an indefinite mental health leave…”

“Just forget work for now,” Randall replied gently. “Forget everyone and everything but Frank Langdon for right now. I think I know where this whole desire to get back to work is coming from: it’s coming from the fact that you wanna see Michael and be around him like you used to be, as you sense that he wants that too, cause he’s probably texted you or made his feelings clear in some other way, but kiddo…nothing is like it used to be. You’ve lost pretty much everything you used to have, including who you were. You have to rebuild your life and yourself from scratch. You need to start that rebuilding process from the bottom, though. You need to start by looking out for yourself and your wellbeing before anything else. I know you think you need to be what others want you to be, but you need to be someone you’re happy with being even if it doesn’t agree with the idea that others have of you. As you work at self-care, you’ll learn to be who you want to be and what and who you’re comfortable being, but that…that takes time. Self-care, my lovely son, also includes attention to daily tasks that will help improve personal wellness…including eating…which I think might be a very good idea for you to do now. In fact, it might be a good idea for both of us to do that.”

Frank silently nodded, his father’s words making sense to him.

Randall silently dug into the bag and pulled out two small strawberry banana smoothies from McDonald’s, “Strawberry banana smoothies minus the yogurt,” Randall spoke gently. “I figured you would want something simple, but enjoyable for our lunch together. Do you want some help with yours?”

“Yes please,” Frank replied quietly, sighing tiredly. “I…I’m not able to really feed myself yet, Dad. Most of the time I’ve been here, I’ve been in bed with a pulse-ox thing on my finger and just feeling so shaky and tired that I can’t really do much. I’m able to do affirmations in a hand mirror and journal writing, but even drinking water is a challenge. And I only have one working arm…and one working foot…I’m not much to look at right now, really…between that and my face.”

A concerned expression crossed Randall’s face, but he nodded silently because he wanted Frank to tell it to him, he did not want to pry the story out of Frank, “I fought with Michael cause he was accusing me of using drugs,” Frank explained in a pained voice, his expression sad as he remembered back to that night. “It got ugly, and we both said inappropriate things and he just walked away. I had stolen drugs, yes…but Abby needed crap for her dealers and…I don’t wanna get into what happened between us that day, as it’s too much for me to talk about right now. Anyway, while I was standing out there in the cold night, she called me and said she sent dealers after me cause she knew I failed to get the meds. They were in my locker and Michael tore my locker apart after some intern accused me of popping pills, he took them, and we fought. The dealers beat the hell out of me in a park close to the hospital cause I ran…I ran to try and protect Michael and the others in the hospital and almost lost my life trying to help those people…people who didn’t care about me. And that bastard…and the rest of them never even thanked me for that!”

Randall’s eyes widened a bit, but he quickly masked his horror and anger at the hospital’s and Robby’s cruelty and negligence and gently offered Frank one of the smoothies instead in an attempt to relax his upset son, “Time to focus on something else for a minute, pal,” he spoke gently, wanting nothing more to go sue the hell out of the hospital for their poor treatment of his son. “Namely, a self-care activity. I want at least half of this gone before you talk any more, all right?”

Frank nodded, immediately calming down because he was wanting some food and because he knew his father was gently trying to redirect his anxiety. He let his father feed him the smoothie, but ended up drinking all of it simply because his body was extremely hungry and his mind was tired of leaving things unresolved. Randall promptly offered him the other one because he could tell that Frank was up to having it and Frank accepted it, letting out a quiet gasp when he had finished it because he felt as if he had suddenly finished a marathon. Did I just drink two smoothies? Frank wondered, realizing he suddenly felt full for the first time in days. I…I did. Oh…oh…

“I…I ate your lunch,” Frank found himself saying nervously as he gave an apologetic look to his father.

Randall, however, smiled, “Both smoothies were actually for you, kiddo,” he replied gently. “If I had said that at the start, I don’t think you would have taken them. Your brain wouldn’t have let you enjoy both of them had I said they were both for you. You would have thought it was too much and gotten overwhelmed, shut down, and imposed self-punishment. I could already see it happening. You were getting ready to apologize because you thought you ate my lunch and you thought I was going to be angry. That…is…sign…domestic…violence.”

The sound of his father’s voice suddenly felt duller to Frank and he knew he was missing words, so he leaned in closer with his right ear out, but he had to lean forward, so that meant letting his father’s hand go. Randall gave him an odd look, which quickly morphed into one of concern when he realized that Frank could hear better out of one ear than the other.

“How long have you been having hearing issues for?” Randall asked in a concerned, but gentle voice, eyeing Frank worriedly.

Frank sighed, his expression solemn as he spoke, “I only started noticing it today, but that doesn’t mean anything,” he replied in a quiet voice. “It might have been going on longer. I just haven’t been feeling good enough to notice. I saw an audiologist today and had a CT and an MRI...”

Nodding, Randall gently took hold of Frank’s hand again and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “You’re not alone in dealing with this,” he replied in a reassuring tone. “As I was saying, the hearing loss…it’s…it’s trauma induced, isn’t it? And it’s not trauma from the drug dealers.”

“No,” Frank replied grimly, suddenly lowering his eyes in shame. “It’s not from the drug dealers. I…I am…I mean…I was…in an abusive marriage.”

Randall nodded, gently stroking Frank’s hand as they sat there, “Thank you for being open with me about that,” he spoke in a somber tone. “I suspected as much, but I wasn’t certain. Did she ever hurt the kids?”

“I took everything,” Frank replied quietly, sighing softly as he realized what he had just acknowledged. “You might as well let Mom know too…about this place and what we discussed…and my hearing. And tell her…tell her that you two can visit Tanner and Maria…if you want. I know they’ll be safe with you two. They’re with a colleague of mine who’s a foster parent, but she also works. She’s the charge nurse at the Emergency Department and she’s been helpful. I feel really bad…she’s helped me get here…but she works really hard and she’s keeping it secret that I’m here. God, it’s so hard to trust people with all that. I’ve overwhelmed her and Dennis, though, and I need to stop that…I really do. You can tell Dana I said it’s okay you and Mom see the kids and you can tell Dennis…that I’m so sorry. It’s my fault…all of it. If you want, you can talk to Doctor Abbot too…I’ve probably driven him crazy by now, but I signed a thing making him my medical advocate and he says he actually wants me to talk to him…”

Randall paused, “Who’s Dennis?” he asked in a confused, but gentle voice, wondering if it was the Dennis Whitaker that he had heard about at the hospital.

“Oh, Dennis is a friend…a medical student… I made while living on the street, which I had to do because Abby…she kicked me out a lot,” Frank replied in a quiet voice, still unable to look at his father. “We met last September, but…I had more time on the street than him…so we sort of came to an agreement. I would teach him how to survive, and he would patch me up. We’d look out for each other, but he…he almost got killed…at…Riverview Park…”

Tears filled Frank’s eyes and Randall gently wiped them away and Frank suddenly let out a weak yawn, “Oh, God…” Frank breathed tiredly, suddenly looking scared. “I’m sorry…I’m getting sleepy.”

Randall gently stroked Frank’s cheek, an act that made Frank feel even more tired than he already was, “What do we do when we get tired, Frank?” he asked gently. “We don’t apologize for being tired, do we? And we don’t get scared to say that we’re tired, do we? What do we do?”

“We…we go to sleep,” Frank replied in a sleepy tone as his eyes began to droop. “Can you help me…to my room? And put me to bed like you used to…when I was a kid?”

As David silently made his over to offer assistance, Frank drifted off into a deep sleep, lulled there by his father stroking his face gently and his father’s gentle words, “Hi,” David spoke softly as Randall quietly got to his feet. “Can I be of help at all, Doctor Langdon?”

“I wasn’t a doctor today,” Randall gently corrected David as he offered him a sad smile. “I was just being a father…I was just a father who was being there for his son. Yes, though, you can help me. Frank asked me to put him to bed so he can sleep, but I don’t know where his bed is in this place…”

David nodded and quickly collected Oliver’s leash, “If you can push the chair, I can bring Oliver,” he replied gently. “Just so you’re aware, Frank’s medical advocate had to be told about…your other son…and…how did you know how to approach Frank today? That went better than I expected it to. You mention you have a psychology practice somewhere and that you’re a counselor? Right? I was listening nearby because Frank asked me to in case things went south, just so you know…”

“Oh, I’m well aware of the role of a medical advocate,” Randall replied gently, nodding as they left the common area and moved back into the medical care area. “I just didn’t know he had one, but now that I do, I want to talk to them. Frank gave me permission, so I plan to use that permission. Anyway, yes. I have a practice. It was open before COVID, and then I did a lot of work from home over Zoom during COVID. It’s open again now, but I still do Zoom sessions for people who can’t come visit my office. I also know all about medical advocates and I knew how to approach Frank today because I got my diploma in Child and Youth Care before Jerry and Frank were born, but it was so hard to find a job in the field that I ended up working for the city in Parks and Rec so I could feed my family when they came along. After Jerry was killed, though, I…I just couldn’t do it anymore, so I just decided to go back to school. Managed to get my Bachelor’s in a year, and then did my Master’s in 2, and my PhD in 4 while I practiced in the field. My wife was very understanding about it all. Frank…I really do wish I had helped him more back then. He…he was just in his own little world, though, and my wife and I thought that was his way of dealing with Jerry’s death, so we just let him be. We didn’t want to push him and lose another kid. Oh, how wrong we were to do that. God…”

Unsure of what to say, David simply chose to remain silent as he and Randall got Frank and Oliver back to Frank’s assigned room, “Hey, buddy, we’re here,” Randall whispered into Frank’s right ear as they approached the bed and David set the brake on the chair. “Time for you to go to bed.”

Frank opened his eyes and sighed, but didn’t say anything and instead let his father and David help him and Oliver settle in bed without saying anything. Randall also noticed the folder with the disability assessment questions, the mirror with the affirmations, and the journal on the portable table, but he didn’t say anything about what he was seeing. He could talk about all of it with Frank’s advocate later on. For the moment, Randall reasoned to himself, he was there as Frank’s father.

Sighing gently, Randall gently tucked Frank in, made sure Jake was resting in the crook of his arm in case he needed him, and then rested Frank’s hand on Oliver’s head. Finally, he gently kissed Frank’s forehead, gently stroked his forehead and face briefly, and then moved back. As Randall left the room, he saw David silently reconnecting medical equipment to various parts of Frank’s body and he couldn’t help but think back to the brutal day when Jerry had been declared dead in the hospital after being rushed there from the playground following the incident. Jerry had been far beyond help by the time the attacker had left the park and left them free to call for help, as the man had held them there for hours in his impaired, armed state, but paramedics had come anyway. They had taken both Jerry and Frank to the hospital. Frank had been in shock and Randall had been to terrified to do anything but watch staff try to help. They had eventually given up on trying to save Jerry and had turned their attention to Frank while leaving Jerry hooked to various pieces of medical equipment and IV’s. The sight of Frank getting hooked to equipment now…it scared the hell out of him and made him wonder just how unwell Frank really was and made him want to do something about it. My only living son is in such godawful pain, Randall thought darkly. I have to do something.

Exhaling softly, Randall allowed himself to take a seat in the hallway just a bit away from Frank’s room and rest his face on his knees. He needed to take a moment to grieve and breathe before he did anything. He needed take a moment to grieve over Jerry’s murder and over Frank’s suffering before he did whatever he could to help lift Frank away from his suffering and towards healing.

After several moments, Randall slowly composed himself, got to his feet, and silently made his way down the hallway, but he nearly ran into someone as he did so because his steps were unsteady, and his entire body was shaking. He froze and offered an apologetic look to Mel, but Mel didn’t look unnerved. She looked intrigued, as she could see the man heavily resembled Frank, but was much older than him. Randall and Mel studied each other in silence for a few minutes before Mel spoke.

“Um, hi,” Mel spoke kindly, offering a smile. “Are you okay? You look…you look a little tired.”

Randall sighed tiredly, “I was just visiting my son,” he replied softly, eyeing her scrubs. “Are you on staff here? You’re wearing scrubs.”

“Oh, I just wear them when I volunteer here cause they’re comfortable,” Mel replied gently, looking intrigued. “Your son’s here?”

Randall nodded, “Oh, are you Doctor Langdon’s dad?” Mel guessed softly. “You kind of look like him.”

“Yeah,” Randall replied shakily, swallowing hard as he suddenly leaned on a wall for support because he could feel his legs quickly giving out on him. “I’m sorry. I, um…I just need a minute…”

Mel’s eyes widened and she quickly pulled the emergency string that was on the wall.

Almost immediately, Dr. Abbot came running as he had wanted to look in on the visit between Frank and his father anyway, “Just…just seeing Frank hooked to all that stuff…it made me think of when…of when Jerry died,” Randall managed to stammer shakily. “Oh, I need…I need to sit down.”

Dr. Abbot and Mel quickly, but carefully helped Randall into the common area and helped him sit at a table close to the entrance. Randall exhaled, covered his face with his hands, and went very quiet. While Mel ran to fetch a glass of water for him, Dr. Abbot seated himself beside the man because he recognized PTSD attacks when he saw them and he had heard mention of the cause, so he really wanted to check the guy over before letting him leave and get behind the wheel of a car.

“You okay?” Dr. Abbot asked softly, eyeing the man worriedly. “You don’t seem all that okay.”

Randall exhaled weakly, “I was just visiting my son, and I helped him back to where he’s staying, but the sight of him getting hooked to medical equipment…it scared the hell out of me because it’s making me realize he’s sicker than he’s letting on and it’s also reminding me of another son I lost,” he explained shakily. “His brother…my older son…was killed in a playground shooting when both boys were younger. That guy shot Jerry cause he wanted money and I didn’t have cash on me. Care was delayed cause the shooter took his sweet time leaving. He was too high and drunk to…and kept threatening to kill Frank and I after he shot Jerry...”

Dr. Abbot’s eyes widened in surprise and horror, “I about had a heart attack the day I heard about the playground shooting and that Abby was involved, but then…I heard she was one of the shooters,” Randall spoke shakily. “I watched and read every news report I could find on it that day to make sure Frank or my grandchildren weren’t there. And then I heard…she was drunk and on drugs…and that she sexually assaulted someone thinking it was Frank. I didn’t want to talk about all that or approach sensitive subjects at all during my visit with Frank because I know he’s not been here that long, but my God. I was not expecting him to bring up his brother. He’s not spoken about Jerry in years. To anyone. And I mean anyone. When he was dating Abby, he outright lied to her and said he was an only child. I was also not expecting him to be so open with me. Wow.”

Just then, Mel returned with the water and offered it to Randall, “I’m a doctor of psychology with my own practice and I specialize in family counseling, but even I get surprised at times,” Randall replied in a trembling voice as he accepted the water and took a drink. “Ahh. Thank you…”

“Well, nobody is immune from trauma, even doctors,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “Thank you, Doctor King. Maybe we, as doctors, get even more traumatized because of all the crap we see. I don’t know.”

Randall’s eyes suddenly narrowed as he studied Dr. Abbot for a minute and he sighed, “You must be Doctor Abbot,” he realized softly. “Frank mentioned you in our chat today. He said I could talk to you and said you were his medical advocate. Do I need him to sign anything or is verbal consent enough? He was lucid and very talkative…”

“If Frank said you can talk to me, you can talk to me, but let’s not do that today,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “We can set aside time on another day for a meeting. You’re clearly not okay right now.”

Randall sighed, “As I told Frank, the grief over the loss of a child…that is something that never fully goes away and just seeing Frank hooked up to all that medical crap…it just reminded me of that godawful day when Frank’s brother died,” he breathed softly as he took another sip of water. “And it just makes me hope I can help bring Frank back from whatever’s happened to him. I don’t even think I have the whole story yet, but he’s not ready to tell it. And I’m not ready to hear it because whatever it is, I’m sure it’s bad and it will hurt him to talk about it at this point. I want Frank to rest. He really exhausted himself today talking about what he did, and it scares the hell out of me. I’m not even scared for me, as I’m a psychologist and have heard much worse. I am scared for him getting into too deep of himself and his pain before his body can handle it. I really just want him to rest in bed or just do relaxing activities for a few days before he has to get into heavy stuff again, but I can’t make him do anything. He’s an adult. All I can do is hope that Frank will recognize his need to take time to rest.”

Dr. Abbot looked thoughtful, as he certainly hoped the same for Frank, but also knew that Frank’s brain wasn’t currently capable of telling him when it was time to rest. Frank still had to be directly told when it was time to rest and that had been one of the observations that David had passed along via the texts he had recorded about the visit between Frank and Randall. Frank had admitted to being tired, but then he had apologized for being tired and had refused himself permission to rest until his father had gently guided him to the conclusion that it was time for him to rest. Frank’s brain, Dr. Abbot knew, was still guiding him towards making unsafe decisions or keeping him in unsafe situations even when Frank himself knew they were bad. Dr. Abbot also knew it might take an accurate disability assessment, counseling, and even appropriate medication to correct those behaviors, and the other struggles Frank was battling, but they would eventually manage it.

Randall suddenly set the empty cup down on the table, feeling more composed and less shaky, “Well, I am feeling better,” he spoke in a tired voice. “Better, but tired. I think I’m going to go home. I already called out of work today for the entire day because I knew this might be rough, so I’m going to go home and have a nice long nap. I dropped Elizabeth at home before I came here and said I had errands, but now I am going to go and rest and talk to her after I rest. When I’ve had a chance to rest and talk to Frank’s mother about all of this, Doctor Abbot, I’d sure love to talk to you about Frank and I would love to spend more time with Frank, but only after we’ve both had a chance to rest. All right? When Frank wakes up, please tell him that I love him and please tell him I said to rest.”

Dr. Abbot and watched Randall slowly get to his feet and take a moment before he silently left.

Mel, who had watched all of this go down in silent concern, frowned at Dr. Abbot, “Do you think he’ll actually come back?” she asked in a concerned voice. “He seemed very overwhelmed.”

“I think he will,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, nodding. “He just needs to take some time for self-care.”

Mel frowned, “He acted like he was uncomfortable, though,” she observed in a concerned voice.

“No, Doctor King, he wasn’t uncomfortable,” Dr. Abbot stated patiently. “Frank’s father…he was feeling sad because something reminded him about a child he lost, a child that was older than Frank. He was grieving and grief sometimes makes people feel overwhelmed about everything. I think Frank is sad too, so what we’re going to do is let Frank rest and have some quiet time, okay?”

Mel nodded, although she didn’t look like she entirely understood what she had heard and seen and Dr. Abbot could tell that, so he simply gave her a gentle look, “Go get ready for your shift and enjoy your day, all right?” he spoke gently. “I have to work at the hospital later, so we may not have time for our end of the day check-in talk that we usually do. Just have a good day and pace yourself, okay?”

As Mel walked off to the salon, Dr. Abbot noticed David wander into the common area from the medical wing sporting an exhausted expression on his face. He waved to the younger man and David immediately came over with Frank’s chart in hand, “Frank’s blood pressure is low. He needs to start going for walks, I think. Even if they’re small ones. The long-term bed rest is hurting him.”

“Saline for now and then walks will start after he’s recovered from today,” Dr. Abbot replied gently as he made notes on Frank’s chart. “Between the thing with his hearing and the visit with his father, Frank has dealt with a lot today. He needs time to recuperate from all of it. By the way, David, why did you never become a doctor? You managed to graduate medical school entirely on scholarships, so you’re smart and you definitely have the heart of a doctor! It’s even in your file that you did medical school after your RN degree and then worked part-time as an RN to stay afloat financially, but you never pursued an internship at a hospital. You’d make a good doctor. At least, I think so. As hard as you work to make sure patients are taken care of…why did you never go on? I know what happened to you during medical school and that may have been part of the why, but…”

David rolled his eyes, “I met Lance at my support group,” he replied softly. “He wasn’t well. He was broken and depressed from stuff with his family, and I just couldn’t see myself leaving him to hurt alone when I could love him. And he loved me, and I loved how we could lift each other up. Besides, med-school had made me so tired and what happened there…it was too much. I was overwhelmed by the idea of an internship after what happened to me during medical school, and I needed to take a step back. Lance helped me see that what I had, my RN degree and a job in Nursing…it was good enough. I have a degree in Medicine, yes and Lance has always wanted me to go get an internship, but he understands that I find it too difficult because of what happened. Besides, I have time to spare as a nurse, or at least I try to, and that time needs to be spent with Lance. Especially since his cancer came back. It was so hard finding time for him when he was sick during COVID…”

Dr. Abbot suddenly looked concerned, “It’s back?” he realized quietly. “God, David…I’m sorry.”

“Lance phoned Amanda since I didn’t have my phone and she called me into her office so we could talk about it,” David explained grimly. “And then Austin called in sick, so I will not be able to get the hell out of here until tonight. From what I understand, though, the hospital’s just keeping Lance in the ED cause of his anemia and to figure out what type it is and the stage and if they can do anything for it. Amanda already said my insurance is good to help pay for whatever he needs, but she’s gotta tell the board he’s sick again, which probably means he’s gonna get fired. COVID really beat the hell out of this place financially, so they don’t have money to spare for him, probably. The pay here is crap, so I’m going to have to beat myself into the ground with double shifts, as we need all the money we can get and it’s all going to his treatment and our living expenses, plus organic food for him and Dollarama food for me. I will not visit food banks and take food away from needy families and Officer Hayes has a family of his own to worry about, so I do not need to tell him about all of this. I’m hoping we’ll be okay…Lance and I. I hope to God we won't be on the street..."

Dr. Abbot shook his head in disbelief, “Did you want me to take you to a support group meeting before you go see Lance?” he asked quietly. “Those support groups run 24/7, right? I know you hate individual counselors, but you should really decompress a bit after work and before you see your husband.”

“Maybe,” David replied softly, sighing. “I lied to Doctor Langdon yesterday, by the way, when I was talking to him. I didn’t tell him that I have a degree in Medicine as well as my RN. I’m such a big hypocrite. I’m trying to encourage him to be honest and open and here I am…lying to him.”

Dr. Abbot suddenly looked thoughtful, “Or maybe you’re grieving what you lost when you were attacked during medical school and you’re also grieving the stability you’ve lost now that Lance is sick again,” he stated softly. “And you are struggling to deal with the vulnerability that comes with grief. You're protecting yourself and that's not necessarily lying. That's just doing what you can to keep yourself professional because you have to be right now. I would encourage you to see an on-site counselor, but they probably wouldn't give you time to do that today because you're the Acting Charge Nurse, they are one nurse down, and the centre is quite busy today. I know it's frustrating and I'm sorry. I'll do what I can to help ease your workload while I'm here. I can tell you're struggling, so please...let me help. I can tell that you having to work a double shift after learning your spouse is sick with a recurrence of cancer isn’t exactly easy for you to do, David. It’s forcing you to bottle up your feelings and stay professional and that is probably triggering the feelings of helplessness you had when he was sick before and that you also had back when you were attacked during medical school…”

“I’m grieving, yeah, but Lance is still alive, for God’s sake!” David admitted shakily, realizing that Dr. Abbot was on point. “How the hell is it normal to be grieving over someone who is still alive?!”

Dr. Abbot sighed, “Because you’ve lost what reality is for you and you don’t know what’s coming next and losing what you know is most definitely a loss,” he replied gently, giving David a worried look. “Losses of any kind should be grieved properly and in a healthy way, and I think you understand that. You want to make yourself believe that grief should only come when losses like death happen, but when any loss happens, you’re allowed to be sad about them. You’re very smart, David. I mean, you were the valedictorian of your class in medical school, so you know these things already. You’re just having a hard time right now and your brain is tired and needs a break. You need to breathe and just take a walk and have a cry. Maybe you should even get your hair washed at the salon to decompress. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like crap, kiddo.”

“Is Doctor King even allowed to wash the staff’s hair?” David replied in a confused voice. “She’s…”

Dr. Abbot scoffed, “She’s here to run the salon for anyone who needs hairdressing services, whether they are patients or staff or even visitors to either patients or staff,” he replied simply. “I know you don’t have a lot of time today cause Austin’s out with the flu, but take a moment. In fact, I’m pulling rank and telling you to get your hair washed because it will help you. I’ll take you there.”

Deeply taken aback, all David could do was nod silently and slowly get to his feet and let Dr. Abbot lead him out of the common area.

“I think I’ll get you some lunch via DoorDash while you’re getting your hair washed,” Dr. Abbot gently whispered in his ear as they walked to the salon together. “You will have to lie back to get your hair washed, but Doctor King will not hurt you. She is not those idiot football players who thought it would be amusing to…”

“Doctor Abbot?” Mel’s gentle, curious voice suddenly filled the air. “What can I do for you?”

Dr. Abbot smiled at Mel briefly before looking at David, as he wanted to give David the opportunity to ask for the hair wash himself and help David feel like he was in control of the situation.

“I, um, heard you wash hair?” David spoke nervously. “I don’t normally let strangers do that, but it’s feeling kinda cruddy, so could you do it? Please?”

Mel nodded and David sat in the chair, “Um, can you forgo the smock?” he asked softly. “I…I like being able to keep my arms free. I know people who get hair done usually wear one, but I…”

An expression of confusion immediately filled Mel’s face and David immediately sighed, unsure of how to explain why he wanted his arms kept free. He looked to Dr. Abbot with a helpless expression on his face and Dr. Abbot nodded silently before looking at Mel, “David is a survivor of a very, very brutal attack during which his arms were pinned down,” Dr. Abbot explained gently. “He doesn’t feel comfortable wearing a smock because it will restrict his arms. Okay? Are you okay with that?”

Mel was silent for a moment before nodding, “I can put a small hand towel over his shoulders,” she offered softly, working to remain composed even though she was quite upset to learn of David’s trauma. “Would that work? And will you be able to lie back for the wash or…”

David nodded, but didn’t say anything while Mel prepped the station, “All right, it’s time to lie back,” Dr. Abbot spoke softly upon seeing that Mel was ready, “You good or would you like us to help?”

Swallowing hard, David sighed, “Please…help me a bit,” he spoke shakily. “Just go…just go slow.”

Dr. Abbot and Mel were gentle as they laid David back so his hair was resting in the sink, “I’ve gotta take your glasses now, but I’ll sit in the chair next to you with them in my shirt pocket and I’ll be right beside you while I order you some DoorDash on my phone,” Dr. Abbot spoke softly as he took David’s glasses, pocketed them, and then accessed the DoorDash on app on his phone. “Doctor King will wash your hair and she’ll be gentle. You can breathe, talk, not talk, curse…you can even sleep if you want to. God knows you could probably use a nap since I know you didn’t get any rest last night.”

“There was a fight in the locked ward that took a while to break up cause there were only two of us nurses on last night along with the night watch guy: me and an LPN. Then, I was doing vitals and wellness checks on everyone in the whole facility once every hour after I wrote out my report on the fight because the night watch guy wanted everyone constantly checked on for their safety,” David explained grimly, exhaustion in his voice as he spoke. “You were working last night for a few hours, but you went home or to your hospital before the fight. This place never sleeps. I left the report with Amanda, and I also left a copy on your desk, by the way, in case you need more details. God, I wish we had a full-time night doctor, but the board…they’re looking to make cuts, not add to expenses. I’m half expecting this place to close by the end of the year cause there’s no money. I’m senior RN next to Amanda, so I have to sit in those fecking meetings and hear about it every single day cause I’m Acting Charge Nurse and it’s part of my job. All of this budget cutting crap hurts patients…”

Dr. Abbot nodded, his expression grim because he already knew of the constantly worsening situation at Blue Mountain Wellness Center, but he did not want to keep hashing it out because both he and Mel were unpaid volunteers and there was nothing they could do to help the situation or the paid staff who were affected by it. Dr. Abbot, however, had sent a private email to Gloria indicating that he knew of three RN’s, David, Amanda, and Austin, from a private facility that would be getting their hours cut by the summer due to budget issues the facility was having. He hadn’t heard back from Gloria yet, but he knew the woman would be so happy about the extra help that she would probably accept them into the hospital’s fold without hesitation. Dr. Abbot had not mentioned Lance, however, as Lance was not well and given what David had confirmed, he was glad he hadn’t, as Lance needed to focus on fighting his illness and not worry about working.

A light snore suddenly filled the air and Dr. Abbot looked up from his phone, unable to keep from smiling when he saw that David had fallen asleep while Mel had been gently soaking his shaggy hair with the sprayer. Not wanting to wake David to bother him about lunch options when he looked comfortable, Dr. Abbot silently selected a small, but nutritious meal of food that he knew David would eat from a healthy place and then sent the order off before pocketing his phone. He then sat in silence, watching Mel wash David’s hair and also watching to make sure that David didn’t have any sort of reaction. Fortunately, David slept through the entire process and didn’t even stir while Mel was blow drying his hair and brushing it. Only when the chair was raised back up did David wake and Dr. Abbot immediately returned his glasses to his face so he wouldn’t be left vulnerable.

“Thank you,” David spoke in a quiet, groggy voice, sighing tiredly. “I do feel better after that.”

Mel nodded and Dr. Abbot smiled at him, “Stuff from Honeygrow arrives in 20,” he replied gently. “And I’m not telling you what it is. I think you could use a little walk in the courtyard before you eat, though, to wake up and allow yourself space to grieve. Life as you know it has changed, but…”

“I’m still living,” David finished softly, sighing as he nodded. “That walk…do I have to do it alone?”

Dr. Abbot shook his head and held his hand out, “Nope,” he replied gently. “Grief is very painful, but you don’t have to carry that pain by yourself. The reality of grief is that it’s a weight that others can help you carry if you let them. We can go slow and talk or not, but a walk will do you some good.”

Nodding, David took Dr. Abbot’s offered hand and allowed the older man to help him to his feet.

Chapter Text

Frank’s first day on his official treatment plan began early because Frank had woken himself up at 6 a.m., had done his affirmations, a bit of journal writing, and then had helped himself to water without calling for assistance. He had then buzzed for a nurse to help him get up, as that was still too much for a challenge for him to do with a busted arm and a busted ankle.

While he waited for help to arrive, Frank silently reflected on the last few days. After his father’s visit had worn him completely down, he had ended up sleeping for nearly 12 hours before being woken for a vitals check and a light meal by David. David had helped him eat, fed Oliver, and talked with him a bit before a page had pulled him away.

Over the next few days, while the exhausted Frank had rested in bed, he had begun to notice that he hadn’t seen Lance at all lately, he saw Amanda hardly at all, Austin was ‘out sick’ a lot, and David was making more and more appearances whenever he buzzed for a nurse. Frank wasn’t stupid; he knew something was going on staff wise, probably due to cuts, but he hadn’t mentioned it because he simply didn’t have the energy to. Dr. Abbot had still dropped by during the day and Frank was grateful for that, as it meant a hint of familiarity was present.

Frank had also taken to texting his mother and father once he was strong enough, as he needed a distraction from the changes that were obviously happening around him and his parents both provided him with reminders to focus on himself, not on the changes that might affect his care.

Now, as Frank lay there waiting for the nurse, he thought about why today was special to him and why he had woken up so early. He was finally going to visit with his mother today in person after not seeing her in a long time. His father had to work at his practice that morning, but he promised to break away for a late lunch and join the two of them if they were still visiting. Frank hoped they would be still visiting when his father arrived, as he and his mother hadn’t seen each other in a long time and he knew his mother missed him dearly.

What was due to come before that, however, was an appointment regarding his hearing loss and also a disability assessment session and Doctor Abbot would accompany him to both to observe, provide assistance only when necessary, and to also keep Oliver from being a distraction.

“Morning!” David’s tired voice suddenly filled the room. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Frank sighed and frowned when he looked at the approaching David and immediately noticed that the young man looked a little tired, pale, and somewhat thinner than he had in the past, as his work uniform was baggier. David, however, offered a kind smile, and so Frank let his concerns drop simply because it wouldn’t do either of them any good to talk about David’s change in appearance.

“I…I was wondering if I could try walking today?” Frank asked softly. “Or maybe at least go sit outside in my chair? Oliver probably needs to go out and I need to burn a little anxiety off cause I’ve got appointments in an hour…after breakfast. Do you think I’m strong enough to walk again or should I wait?”

David looked thoughtful, “Well, how about we try a small walk and see how you feel?” he offered gently. “The chair’s near the door. Would you be okay with me helping you?”

Frank nodded and so David moved the tray back, “Ollie, let’s go,” Frank ordered gently.

Thinking he was being taken for a walk, Oliver quickly hopped off the bed, moved over to the window, and sat, looking expectantly at Frank.

David carefully helped Frank sit up and gave Frank a few moments to get used to the change in position before helping. It was then that Frank realized that David was slightly taller and lankier than him, but that proved to be an advantage because David was able to keep a secure hold on Frank as they slowly made their way over to the wheelchair near the door together.

When Frank finally reached the wheelchair and was sat down in it, he let out a quiet sigh of relief, “That…that was a lot,” he spoke tiredly. “I just had to see…for myself.”

“Ready to go for a walk now?” David asked softly. “Or do you need a minute?”

Frank sighed as Oliver wandered over to them, “I’m okay,” he replied quietly. “I just…found that…challenging.”

Nodding, David silently wheeled Frank to the common area while Oliver followed alongside them. As they moved to the door to go outside, however, Amanda suddenly came into view and Frank saw her gently pull David to the side within hearing range of his right ear and pass him his phone and his wallet. David gave Amanda a confused look.

“You have a visitor outside,” Amanda spoke in a quiet voice, giving David a concerned look.

David frowned, “It better not be Lance,” he replied worriedly. “He’s supposed to be at home resting. He just had treatment yesterday…”

Amanda suddenly looked sad and leaned into David, but Frank could still hear them, “Honey, Lance says you two don’t have a home anymore cause your landlord came knocking with eviction paperwork this morning,” she explained in a grim voice. “The landlord watched Lance pack his and your personal stuff and then took his keys. He’s outside…he took the bus up here.”

“What the hell?” David breathed softly, his eyes widening in shock and anger. “I thought we were paid up til the end of the month! We only have one salary now, thanks to the care board, but I’ve been doing my best with the jagoff landlord we have. I…nothing social has been easy, though…”

Amanda sighed and David took his phone and wallet along with a bottle of juice that Amanda suddenly fetched him from out of nowhere, “I got you two a family room at Trinity House for a week cause I know people in emergency housing, but you gotta go now and get it sorted so you don’t lose it,” she spoke softly. “Take your lunch now, get it done, and then make up the hours later.”

Nodding, David pocketed his things and speedwalked away. Frank’s eyes widened in shock, but then quickly turned away and pretended to be focused on Oliver because he didn’t want to get in trouble for eavesdropping. Frank also surmised that Lance had probably been fired due to needing cancer treatment and felt appalled by it, but he knew that private facilities could sadly do whatever they wanted in regards to their employees. Still, Frank mused silently, he truly felt sorry for David and Lance as they had both helped him immensely when he had first decided to leave The Pitt for Blue Mountain. When he was well enough, Frank promised, he would find them and also find a way to help them both as they had helped him. When I’m strong enough. Frank silently reminded himself. I’m far from that. I can’t even take care of myself right now, let alone other people.

While Frank sat there deep in thought, he didn’t notice Amanda approach the table, “Hi Frank,” Amanda spoke in a kind voice as she joined him at the table. “How are you this morning?”

Frank looked surprised to see Amanda, as he hadn’t seen her since the week before, but he sighed, “I’m alive,” he replied quietly. “Um, Oliver…he needs to go out and I thought about getting him some air, but…”

“Well, if you trust me to help you, I’m sure we can get both of those things accomplished,” Amanda spoke gently, giving Frank a kind look. “I’m not going to hurt you, Frank. I promise.”

Frank hesitated, as the last time he had been promised anything with such sincerity by a woman, that woman had broken her promise, had hurt him deeply, and he was not convinced that the hurt he had inherited from his late abuser would ever fully go away even if he went to therapy for it for the rest of his life. Amanda noticed the hesitation, but didn’t push her help on Frank, as she was aware of his past experiences and knew he needed to come to the conclusion about trusting her on his own and at his own pace.

After a few moments, Frank nodded, “Okay,” he replied softly. “Could you please help me take Ollie outside?”

Nodding, Amanda offered him a reassuring smile, “Of course,” she replied gently. “Let’s go outside.”

Frank inhaled sharply as he felt the chair move, but he gradually relaxed when he realized that Amanda was moving the chair slowly even when they got outside. Allowing himself to take a breath, Frank focused on watching as Oliver searched for the perfect piece of grass, but what he had overheard would not leave his mind and unsettled him deeply and so he found himself looking to Amanda.

“Um, Amanda, could I ask you for a small favor?” Frank asked softly, hoping that she would listen.

Amanda looked thoughtful as she knelt beside the wheelchair, “I, um, overheard your discussion with David,” Frank spoke nervously. “My good ear…it takes a lot in. Anyway, um, I know where Trinity House is, as that’s one of the places where I used to do mobile medical visits during lockdowns, and that’s kinda far from here for someone with cancer to go to on a bus and for David to go too. David’s been here all night…and for a lot of nights and days, so he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy. I know Trinity House has a street team attached to it, though. Do you think that place’s street team would be able to come and get David and Lance in their van so they’re not running all over the place with their bags and potentially exposing Lance to illnesses on the bus? Lance just had chemotherapy, I overheard, so his immune system and his energy are both probably…pretty off. I know eavesdropping is bad, but my God…I just feel so horrible for both of them having to be homeless and go through what they’re going through after they helped me so much…”

Amanda suddenly felt awed. Frank was concerned for others and was able to communicate that clearly without feeling guilty or succumbing to anxiety, which was a huge step of progress from where he had been back when he had first arrived.

“I can call them,” she promised softly. “If you take a breath and keep an eye on Oliver for me, I can call them right now. Okay? You can listen to me call them.”

Swallowing hard, Frank nodded and Amanda quickly got her work phone out to make the call.

Blue Mountain Wellness Center hadn’t looked intimidating on the website that her husband had shown her, Elizabeth Langdon mused silently as she sat in her car, silently staring at the bungalow-style facility that seemed to stretch on for miles. In person it seemed a lot bigger than the computer had described. It was almost intimidating…

Then again, Elizabeth thought to herself, it looked safe, secure, and as if it would do Frank much more good than the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital had done for him. She had never gotten a straight answer from that Doctor Underwood about why Frank had left the hospital and that pissed her off immensely. She and Randall had since discussed it and they were truly worried about what would happen to Frank’s already frail mental health if he ever chose to go back to work at that godforsaken hospital, as it was clear that the staff there saw Frank as nothing less than a parasite.

Sighing heavily, Elizabeth took a moment to compose herself, as she had promised Randall that she was not going to argue with Frank about Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital during their visit that day. This visit was simply supposed to focus on reconnecting and getting to know one another again and Elizabeth was looking forward to it, as she hadn’t seen her only living son since before her grandson Oliver’s death several years earlier. She knew visiting with Frank wouldn’t be easy for either of them, so before she went in, she was going to take a moment to compose herself in the car and then she was going to take her time walking to the intake area because it would help.

Elizabeth let a moment of silence pass before she got her purse and a bag of presents for Frank that she had bought brand new for him after hearing from her husband that Frank seemed to have very little on him, out of the car and got out. As she made her way towards the ramp that would lead to the door, she suddenly noticed a man around Frank’s age, a tall, very lanky young man with brown shaggy hair, black glasses, blue scrubs, and a black sweater suddenly come outside and look around. The young man’s eyes suddenly settled on her and he immediately came over to her.

Elizabeth noticed that the man was also wearing a lanyard and ID that identified him as David Martin, Blue Wellness Centre’s Acting Charge Nurse and an RN, “Um, hi,” David spoke in a kind voice even though his tone was a little nervous. “What…what can I do for you?”

“My name’s Elizabeth Langdon,” Elizabeth explained quietly. “I…I was coming to visit my son, Frank, today and I’m just a bit nervous because this is the first time I’m seeing my baby boy in a while.”

David looked thoughtful, “Well, if you need a minute before you face your son, it’s really okay to take a minute,” he replied gently. “It’s probably better for both him and you if you do that, actually, so you’re in a good frame of mind when you do see him. There’s actually a little bench just off the ramp if you need to sit for a minute. I…I’m waiting for someone, actually, so I might sit with you, if that’s all right?”

Elizabeth was silent for a moment before she nodded and followed David over to the bench, offering him a smile as they sat together, “My husband is so much better at this than I am,” she admitted softly. “I’ve never been to one of these places and I don’t know how to approach my son…”

“Just…love him unconditionally as he is right now and worry about the future later,” David advised softly, wondering where Lance was because Amanda had said he was outside.

As Elizabeth nodded, David suddenly saw Lance emerge from a grove of trees that was in the parking lot lugging two large suitcases, “Oh…” David breathed anxiously, quickly realizing that Lance had been in the grove of trees throwing up. “Oh, Lance…”

Elizabeth’s gaze also caught sight of Lance, “You know him?” she asked softly, noting the sad expression that had suddenly materialized on David’s face. “You look like you do.”

“He’s my husband and he’s here because we just got made homeless,” David explained grimly, sighing. “I’m sorry. If you need a moment to yourself…”

Elizabeth got concerned, but she quickly composed herself, “I’ll be all right if you need to go see him,” she replied softly. “Thank you for sitting with me…”

“David,” David spoke worriedly as he got up and hurried towards Lance.

Instead of worrying about Frank, however, Elizabeth watched as David gently embraced his husband, a very pale young man sporting short black hair, blue eyes, sneakers, sweats, a loose shirt, a hoodie, and a hooded flannel jacket, by kissing his face and forehead and also giving him a hug. Elizabeth frowned as the young man suddenly broke into sobs and sank into David’s arms like butter melting into toast, David didn’t say anything and simply held his sobbing husband tight.

She was early anyway, Elizabeth reasoned. She had come over an hour early for her visit with Frank due to her anxiety about the day and what her visit with Frank would be like and so she had time to spare and use wisely. Her heart was going out to the kind healthcare worker and his obviously distraught husband, and she wanted to do something for them…if she could.

Swallowing hard, Elizabeth silently rose and wandered over to them, catching glimpses of their conversation as she approached, “…Honey, we gotta go now if we’re gonna get the bus down to Trinity House,” she heard David say in a soft, but worried voice. “Did you throw up in the trees?”

“…Well, if you had chemo yesterday, you would puke too if you had to haul two monster-sized suitcases on the hot bus while wearing a mask…” the other man spoke shakily. “These suitcases have everything of ours in them but food and the furniture. The fridge was empty anyway and the furniture belonged to the place…”

Elizabeth suddenly cleared her throat, “Um, can I be of help at all?” she offered softly.

David suddenly looked surprised, “Oh,” he replied nervously, wondering if they were about to get told off for being two men kissing in public, as some still did that. “If we’re making you uncomfortable…”

“Did you say you had chemo yesterday?” Elizabeth asked in a concerned voice, frowning at Lance. “You…you should be in bed if you did.”

Lance suddenly looked amused, “Well, I’m jobless, we’re homeless, and I needed to tell my husband all our lovely news,” he replied in a tired, slightly dark voice. “He’s still gotta work.”

“The center’s only got til the end of the year, according to the morning meeting, but let’s focus on you for right now,” David cut in gently. “Amanda got us a room at Trinity House for a week, and I hope it’s enough time for us to figure something else out. They have a bed and food. It’ll be enough.”

Elizabeth suddenly looked thoughtful, but before she could reply, a large van suddenly pulled into the lot. Afraid that someone had called the police on them for loitering, David quickly moved in front of Lance to shield him. As the van, which was an off-white color, suddenly parked at the curb, David could see Trinity House’s logo on the van’s door. The doors opened and David was stunned to see a nervous looking Whitaker, Santos, and a serious looking McKay. Whitaker froze at seeing David.

“Dennis?!” David breathed anxiously, his eyes wide with shock. “I thought you were staying home til graduation…”

Whitaker, meanwhile, looked surprised and concerned to see David, Lance, and two suitcases, “I decided to take a shift with the street team to keep my mind from thinking about…things,” he explained softly. “My therapist also recommended it as a way for me to get comfortable with being around people before commencement and Santos wanted to come with me to make sure bad stuff didn’t happen to me. What are you two doing…?”

“Um, do you mind if I use my lunch break now to do a drop-in counseling session?” McKay suddenly spoke up, her expression turning grim because she recognized David and Lance from the hospital and the whole idea of having to help such a nice, loving couple combat homelessness was triggering the hell out of her to the point where she was remembering a recent fight she had had with her ex over their son. She knew she wouldn’t be able to do this particular run because it triggered her too much, but she had to think of an excuse so they wouldn’t think her weak.

Santos and Whitaker looked surprised, as McKay had insisted on coming with them so she would have something to do until the next part of her residency started, but…

“I…I’ve been here for counseling before and my ex and that stupid partner of his…they’ve really been pissing me off recently,” McKay lied nervously, not wanting to share why she needed a break. "I need a bit before I can be any good to this team. Just tell the supervisor I took my lunch early.”

Santos nodded, “We can do this run and come back for you,” she replied calmly, knowing full well that McKay recognized the couple from Lance’s time as a patient at the Pitt and was probably too sad by their reappearance to help them, but too scared to admit that she was sad.

Nodding her thanks, McKay wandered up the ramp while Santos and Whitaker focused on David and Lance, “…The board fired Lance for falling out of remission and it sucks, but they’re cutting costs so much up here, it’s insane,” she overheard David explain as she disappeared inside. “We got evicted this morning while I was doing a double shift and Lance hauled all our crap up here on the freaking public bus a day after he had chemo…”

As Elizabeth, who was troubled by the fact that a healthcare worker could be fired over having cancer, turned to make her way inside, she saw Whitaker, who looked very sad, suddenly give both David and Lance a warm hug, an action that seemed to surprise Santos immensely.

McKay felt relief as she made her way into the common area intending to wait there until one of the walk-in therapists could come talk to her. The intake people had remembered her from a previous visit and invited her to wait in the common area while they reached out to see who was available for her to talk to after she had explained why she had needed to talk to someone so badly. There had been no judgment, only gentle understanding and a promise to help as they could, which was one of the things that McKay had liked about the place when she had been there to get sober. It hadn’t relied on medication for rehabilitation; it was more holistic and involved both body and mind.

“…The air felt warmer today,” McKay suddenly heard a familiar voice speak in a quiet tone as she sat at one of the tables.

Frank?! McKay thought nervously, her eyes widening in shock she turned her head towards the voice just in time to see a middle-aged female nurse in blue scrubs and sneakers wheel a pale looking Frank Langdon into the common area while a golden retriever sporting a service vest walked alongside him. Frank, McKay observed, was sporting scrub pants, an oversized loose shirt, an oversized hooded jacket, one sneaker, a walking cast, a head bandage, a bandage over his nose, a bruise on his eye, and a shoulder sling. He also looked like he had just woken up from a deep sleep.

McKay couldn’t help but stare, as Langdon had disappeared from The Pitt without a trace over a week ago in the dead of night and…was suddenly not far from her. He looked a mess, but certainly more rested than he had in The Pitt. He also seemed calmer and more in touch with the world.

The 320 hold and Robby's constant overcrowding had obviously freaked Frank out enough that he had somehow figured out how to get the hell out of The Pitt and come up here. McKay realized as the female nurse suddenly walked away.

Suddenly, McKay saw Frank looking at her and he froze momentarily before offering a nervous wave hello. Figuring it was an invitation to go say hi, McKay wandered over, “I…I was in the area with a street team and needed to break away to get some drop-in counseling, but I totally did not expect to see you here,” McKay commented in a shocked voice as she sat down across the table from him.

“Oh,” Frank replied quietly, suddenly looking surprised and slightly relieved. “So you weren’t…looking for me?”

McKay scoffed, “God, no,” she stated firmly, shaking her head as the female nurse suddenly came back with a breakfast tray. “I used to be a patient here when I was going through my own crap. Oh, hey, Amanda. It’s been a while. You still working here?”

Amanda looked surprised and a little bit concerned to see McKay there, but nodded, “I was just here on a break from street team work needing some drop-in counseling,” McKay quickly explained before Amanda could get the wrong idea. “I’m gonna be a third-year resident soon…”

Relief filled Amanda’s face, “Um, Doctor McKay and I were actually colleagues before I got caught stealing meds for Abby,” Frank spoke nervously, unable to look McKay in the eye as he spoke. “My boss…Michael...he thought they were for me and kicked me out and we fought before I was attacked in the park...where I almost died...”

“Feck… you mean Robby didn’t even drug test you?” McKay replied in a shocked, slightly pissed off voice. “Hospital protocol says if there’s a suspicion of use, the one suspected of use is supposed to be tested before further action is taken.”

Frank shook his head no and McKay scoffed, “That’s not right,” she replied darkly. “You’ve gone through so much and that idiot caused it because he’s the one who broke protocol. Like, holy freak, man, I thought Robby was better than that. Did he have some sort of grudge against you?”

“Um…Michael and I…we sort of had a thing before Oliver, my kid, died, and I…I ended it,” Frank explained in a slightly somber voice, suddenly feeling very much at ease around McKay because he wasn’t getting judged by her. “It was sort of a lockdown relationship thing, but we…we sort of ended up in the news…with my kids. And Abby…got pissed and thought Michael and I were screwing around and that I was going to leave because he and I were screwing around, but love…love is so much more than just sex, you know?”

McKay sighed, “So you broke Robby’s heart and that idiot broke protocol and got after you as some sort of weird revenge against you because his heart was still broken,” she reasoned in a slightly annoyed voice. “That’s so incredibly unethical and it’s far from cool. No wonder…”

“Can you speak a little louder?” Frank spoke suddenly as McKay’s voice suddenly became foggy to him. “My left ear is trashed from domestic violence. I had to get hearing tests…”

McKay’s eyes widened, “Permission to go beat the ever-living hell out of Robby on your behalf cause he’s an ignorant idiot?” she asked in a concerned voice much to Amanda’s amusement. “Did your wife beat you when she was alive? Is that why you broke Robby’s heart?”

Swallowing hard, Frank nodded, and McKay exhaled grimly, her expression sad, “If there was a God, I’d ask Him what the hell He was thinking letting you go through so much terrible crap,” she commented in a sad voice. “Like…I’m guessing this abuse was going on for a while before Abby and those dealers showed up in the ED. I’m so sorry, Frank. Really. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Abby died in the Riverview Park shooting after almost killing Dennis Whitaker and I have to live with that,” Frank admitted quietly, sighing. “I have to live with that and also get a hearing aid, probably, and also a disability assessment starting today. I could use a friend, as I feel like absolute…”

McKay scoffed, “And how are Abby’s choices your fault?” she asked bluntly. “Did you tell her to do all the crap she did to you? Did you tell her to almost kill Whitaker?”

“No,” Frank replied softly, swallowing hard. “I just feel responsible because Dennis…Dennis was my friend…”

McKay looked amused, “I think Whitaker is still your friend,” she replied calmly, leaning closer so Frank could hear her better. “Whenever he’s been to the hospital, he’s asked about you, but nobody will tell him anything. That doesn’t sound like someone who hates you, now does it? Anyway, if you need a friend, you’ve got one. Me. I get suffering. And you’re going through a lot of it. I wish I could give you a hug…”

“You can,” Frank replied softly, suddenly needing a hug very badly after speaking of Robby and how things had ended between them. “I could use a hug right now.”

Nodding, McKay got up, walked over to Frank, and gently embraced him. Frank got used to the hug for a minute before he allowed himself to return the hug with his one good arm. As they pulled apart, a counselor suddenly wandered in from the Counseling Services area, saw McKay visiting with Frank, and looked to Amanda for help.

Amanda looked at the two of them before clearing her throat, reluctant to break up their little bonding session, “Cassie, I think someone’s looking for you,” she spoke quietly.

Realizing that a counselor was now available for her, McKay gave Frank an apologetic look, “Hey, Frank, I gotta go do a therapy session, but can we chat more later?” she asked softly. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you. I know this place and the need for privacy that you probably have while you’re gonna be here. Your recovery…from whatever you’re going through…you probably don’t want it gossiped about…”

“I’m on a 60 day stay, then 30 days in a DCFS Family Shelter to reconnect with my kids, and then my parents want me and my kids to move in with them,” Frank replied in a tired voice. “That…”

McKay’s eyes widened, “That’s rough,” she replied softly. “It really is, but when you’re actually past those 90 days and are able to look back, you’ll realize you needed all of it. You will. I know it seems like it’s a massively long rainy day right now…”

Despite feeling tired and overwhelmed, Frank started to laugh because ‘a massively long rainy day’ didn’t even begin to describe his situation, but McKay’s way of communicating about his circumstances made him realize that it was indeed possible to find humor even in his time of great pain. He was suddenly laughing so much that he closed his eyes because the effort of laughing brought on pain from his healing concussion and skull fracture and broken nose. Both Amanda and McKay, however, looked shocked at Frank’s laughter, as neither had seen the man laugh in a painfully long time and it was a nice reminder that Frank Langdon was still very much alive.

“That’s such a beautifully laid out understatement,” Frank replied in a shaky, but amused voice. “Everything hurts, yeah, but you make it sound so beautiful. My God, Cass. I needed a laugh so bad. You…you just reminded me that it’s possible to laugh even when I feel like crap. Oh…God…hahahahaha.”

Amanda couldn’t help but look relieved, as she had not seen Frank so relaxed since she had met him and if he was relaxed, it might be easier for him to get through his audiology appointment and through the assessment work he had to deal with after his breakfast was done.

“Yeah,” Frank finally replied with a sigh in his voice, suddenly feeling much less anxious about the day ahead as he composed himself without opening his eyes because he hurt. “Yeah…if you want to, you can stop by later. I have to eat and go to some health appointments and visit with my mom and maybe my dad, but…I might be free later. It was good to see you, Cass.”

“Good to see you too, Frank,” McKay replied gently, offering him a smile even though his eyes were closed because she was glad to have brought some comfort to her very ill fellow colleague.

As McKay left with her walk-in counselor, Frank exhaled weakly and rubbed his aching face, “Oh,” he breathed breathlessly, still not fully composed after McKay had made him laugh. “I…I think I need a painkiller or something, as I’m in pain from laughing, but I don’t know if I can have that before my appointments…”

Frank was so engaged in conversation with Amanda, a conversation that ultimately ended with him deciding against a painkiller because he was hellbent on proving to Robby that he was not an addict and making the man and Santos regret ever accusing him, that he didn’t notice his mother, who had taken her time signing in and composing herself, enter the common room and begin to apprehensively approach him.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was completely floored by how outright battered and broken her baby boy looked even though her husband had described it to her. Despite Frank’s brokenness, though, Elizabeth saw nothing but her beautiful son and the golden retriever that lay beside him.

And the service dog didn’t even frighten her. The idea of Frank having disabilities and needing time in a facility to recover from insurmountable mental and physical trauma…none of that bothered her because her only remaining son was still alive. He had been through purgatory that was probably much worse than what he had been through the day his brother had died, but Frank had survived it.

All of a sudden, Frank realized that someone was standing in front of him that wasn’t Amanda. He looked up and was stunned to see his mother standing there in light purple clothes with a cloth bag in her arms and sporting a loving expression on her face. Elizabeth silently set the bag on the table away from the tray so Frank could get a better look at her. Tears suddenly filled Frank’s eyes. It didn’t feel real to him, seeing his mother in front of him after years of being told that she was too busy or didn’t care to see him. Frank sighed, suddenly feeling like a scared and lost little kid again.

“Hi Mommy,” Frank spoke in a quiet, teary voice as he gazed up at her. “Can…can you hug me? I need…I need to know you’re here…and that you’re real…and that…that you love me.”

Nodding, Elizabeth gently embraced her son and held him, “Oh, Frank, I am very much real and definitely here,” she replied gently, kissing the top of his head. “And I love you…so very, very much.”

Amanda fought back tears as she watched Frank lift his arm and use it to embrace his mother.

The ride to Trinity House had been quiet, as Lance had fallen asleep in David’s arms quite quickly and David had simply cuddled his husband without engaging in conversation with Santos or Whitaker. Neither Santos or Whitaker had been bothered by it, as they were both quite sad about Lance getting fired, which Amanda had educated them about in her phone request for a street team visit, and David and Lance now needing a safe space off the streets due to homelessness.

Upon arrival at Trinity House, David had carried the sleeping Lance to the first empty couch that he could see and had masked him up before getting the intake forms from the desk that they would need to fill out to claim their space for the next week. David had then been so busy filling out the forms and cuddling his sleeping husband that he hadn’t noticed Santos and Whitaker bring in their bags to them or go speak to the supervisors about how long their time would be there.

“A week?!” Santos’s voice suddenly filled the air in an angry tone. “You’ve got to be fecking…!”

David paused before setting the chart on his lap and getting the bottle of juice from Amanda out of his jacket, “Hey, Lance, you gotta have something to drink,” he whispered softly. “Wake up for a sec.”

Lance let out a weak groan of protest, as sleep was pleasant for him, but he obeyed, “Amanda stole this from Supply for you,” David explained softly, opening the juice. “I’ll help you.”

“Were you telling the truth up there?” Lance asked shakily between sips. “About the center closing by the end of the year?”

David sighed grimly, “Yeah,” he replied grimly. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“Or you could go talk to your foster dad and get him to pull strings for you to do your internship,” Lance spoke in a quiet voice, unaware that Santos and Whitaker had come back and overheard him. “He has ‘connections with the medical board’…at least you said so.”

Whitaker’s eyes widened, “Wait, David, you’re a doctor?!” he asked in a deeply confused voice.

“I got the degree and did the boards, but I didn’t do an internship,” David replied with a sigh, annoyed by how shocked Santos and Whitaker looked. “I found…that I couldn’t do it.”

Lance sighed, “Why?” Santos asked in a shocked voice. “You seem like you’d make a good one.”

“Because I was jumped by seven football players while walking back to my dorm from the library one night during my final year of medical school, pinned down, and violently assaulted in the name of homophobia,” David replied in a dark voice, trying to stay composed, but failing as he looked at Santos and Whitaker. “And I mean violently. My supervisors at the time, Doctor Adamson and Doctor Abbot, made sure all seven of those bastards got expelled and five of them are still in jail today. Two of them committed suicide after getting probation due to having rich parents with rich lawyers, but all the bad publicity they got from perpetrating a hate crime made them feel too ashamed of being alive. Good riddance to them. I hope they enjoy their stay in hell. Anyway, I finished medical school as valedictorian and had my pick of internships, but the thought of being a doctor in such a brutally unforgiving world…it was too much. Thankfully, I met Lance at one of my therapy group meetings and he’s been lovely.”

Santos looked shaken, “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you mad by reminding you about that,” Lance spoke in an apologetic tone, seeing the pain in David’s face. “You’re enough as you are.”

“I’m not mad at you, my sweet,” David replied gently, quickly calming as he focused his attention on Lance. “Do you want more juice?”

Lance sighed, “No, I’m okay for now,” he spoke tiredly. “I’d love to go to bed if our room is ready, though. I know you have a double shift tonight, plus owed time, so I can look on the computer for places for us to live if I’m not too sleepy…”

“I’d prefer if you had something to eat and just read one of our books if you needed something to do,” David replied gently. “And then wait until I get home to use the computer or shower. I might even have time to get you something to eat before I go. Lock the door while I’m gone, okay? I’ll get a key or an access fob or whatever I need so I can get in without you needing to leave it open.”

Quickly finishing the chart, David released his husband, got up, and wandered off in the direction of the intake desk while Lance re-masked.

Swallowing hard, Santos followed after David, reaching him just in time to see him sneak an oatmeal cookie from a basket that was on the intake desk, unwrap it, and nibble it, “Hey, um, I…I get it,” Santos spoke quietly. “The way you were hurt. I get it. I was hurt that way too…”

Continuing to snack on the cookie, David eyed her silently while holding the intake chart close to him, “It hurts like hell, doesn’t it?” he finally asked softly. “Even when you don’t expect it to…Lance…God bless him…he thinks I should have become a doctor, but my trauma…it wasn’t the only reason I stopped. I wanted time for him and now I’m glad I have it. It’s not much, but it’s there.”

“What are you gonna do when your center closes, though?” Santos asked worriedly. “I heard…”

David shrugged, “I’m trying not to think about that,” he admitted softly as a shelter worker suddenly came over to them. “I can’t bring myself to think about life outside of what I currently have, but…feck…I’m going to have to. I’m a sad, ugly little realist and Lance is Stage 3. That’s pretty fecking grim. I hope to Christ I can keep it together, but it’s taking all my energy just to get up in the morning and do what I have to do in a professional manner as well as be a supportive spouse. When Lance got fired for having cancer, the board justified it by saying cutbacks needed to be made and chemo would keep him too busy to work. It was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard and then I heard that we’d all be out of work by December 31^st cause the center’s closing on January 1st. Amanda and Austin have already had their hours chopped because the board sees Amanda’s seniority and dual role as a financial drain on the system and Austin’s RN status the same way, I’ve been given double shifts with no increase in pay cause I’m a senior staff member, but I’m younger, and we’ve also got one scared little LPN who’s on the verge of quitting cause of trauma associated with violence from patients. We have volunteers, of course, including a volunteer physician who serves as our supervisor when they’re around, but those volunteers come on their own time and get to pick what they do. We don’t.”

“Are they still taking volunteer staff?” Santos asked quietly. “I wouldn’t mind…helping out.”

David looked amused, “If you want to join the chaos, feel free, but I don’t know if they are,” he replied in an amused voice. “You’d have to talk to Amanda about that. She’s my boss.”

Before Santos could reply, David turned his attention to the worker at the desk and Santos hung around to ensure he was treated fairly and respectfully. She had already screamed at the workers for giving them only a week’s stay when David was a healthcare worker and Lance had cancer and she noticed the worker giving her a wary look while focusing on David, but she stood her ground and stayed where she was. After hearing David’s story and grief, she suddenly felt protective of him…the same way she had felt protective over Whitaker after his experience at Abby Langdon’s hands.

Breakfast had been quiet, as Frank had let his mother help him with it, freeing up Amanda to do Nursing rounds, which someone needed to take care of since David was not yet back. Elizabeth, however, hadn’t talked Frank’s ear off. She had simply helped him eat and had just enjoyed sitting with her son. Frank, in turn, had just enjoyed sitting with his mother in quiet and they hadn’t put themselves under pressure to have conversations. He had done that with his father, and it had nearly exhausted him into a coma physically, so he had decided to go slower with his mother.

And now that breakfast was done, Frank was trying to remember how to get to get to the audiology center without needing to ask for help, as he didn’t want to have to call Amanda back and overwhelm her, as he could tell she was tired, but he couldn’t remember the way there himself, as he had only been there once and the center was very large and complicated…at least to him.

“Morning Phoenix,” a gentle, very familiar voice suddenly filled the air. “How you doing?”

Thank God. Frank thought to himself, immediately recognizing the voice of Dr. Abbot. I can’t sit here in silence forever staring off into space or else my mother’s going to think I’ve gone insane.

Frank sighed and watched as his mother and Dr. Abbot introduced themselves to each other, “Um, hi there, Doctor Abbot,” he finally spoke up nervously once there was a pause in his mother and Dr. Abbot’s conversation. “I’m…I’m okay. I’m just trying to remember how to get to the audiology area and then to the assessment space. I just can’t remember. I was so tired over the weekend…”

“And in your tiredness, you probably also forgot that I’m supposed to go with you to both of those appointments cause I’m your medical advocate and those are medical appointments,” Dr. Abbot replied patiently. “It’s okay, though. Prioritizing self-care’s not your forte yet. We’ll get there, though. Don’t apologize for forgetting. Just take a breath and remember that I’m here to help you, okay?”

Frank nodded and silently took a breath, “Um, can my mom come?” he asked softly. “If she wants?”

“As long as she’s not distracting to you and the work you’ll have to do during your appointments, it might be good for her to have an idea of your challenges,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly, nodding.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, “I’d like to be there,” she replied gently. “For my son.”

“Okay,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly, quickly checking his watch and making no comment about the fact that Frank was back to wearing the shirt and hoodie that Dana had lent him despite having other clothes. “Well, Phoenix, if you’re ready, we should get you to the audiologist…”

Frank nodded, “Um, Mom, can you watch Oliver while I’m busy doing the stuff at the appointments?” he asked softly.

Elizabeth froze, “Oliver?” she spoke in a confused voice. “Do you mean the golden retriever?”

“He’s my emotional support dog that I hope to get qualified as a psychiatric service dog once I know what’s going on with me,” Frank explained quietly. “He’s…he’s my medicine. I can’t be without him…”

Elizabeth looked a little sad at that, but she suddenly realized something, “Oliver?” she repeated softly. “You named him after your oldest son?”

“So I wouldn’t forget,” Frank replied quietly, the thought of Oliver the child suddenly making him feel emotionally tired. “Um, anyway, we should go. I…I need to save some energy for my appointments. If we get talking about this, I’m not going to have energy that I need for the day ahead. All right?”

Elizabeth nodded and Dr. Abbot quickly took control of the wheelchair, deciding to get things underway before Frank really did run out of energy. It was still early, but he could tell that Frank was already tired and wasn’t obviously going to provide an explanation as to why.

Instead of passing judgment, however, Dr. Abbot simply delivered Frank to his audiology appointment because it wasn’t his job to judge. It was only his job to play caregiver and advocate, and he would rather do that than be judgmental.

Once they were at the appointment, the audiologist delivered the news that Frank had suffered sensorineural hearing loss in his left ear due to domestic-violence related trauma and that the only help for it would be a hearing aid plus other treatment. Elizabeth Langdon, Dr. Abbot noticed, looked a little sad about that news, but Frank offered no response simply because he had already suspected what was happening and felt that reacting to what he already knew to be a possible fact would be a waste of energy. Frank also didn’t offer a reaction when he was fitted for his hearing aid simply because he just wanted it done rather than dwell on it. Dr. Abbot, however, knew exactly what Frank was doing, as he could recognize the warning signs of emotional detachment and knew that Frank was simply choosing to emotionally detach from the reality of his new disability rather than actually process his emotions about it.

However…Dr. Abbot knew they would get to talking about it eventually. Frank, Dr. Abbot knew, would eventually come around to wanting to talk about it. Probably when his mother wasn’t there.

“…I think it makes you look very distinguished,” Dr. Abbot heard Elizabeth Langdon tell her son in a kind voice, a comment that prompted Frank to smirk. “Although…you’ve always looked that way.”

Frank’s smirk grew into a genuine smile, “Thanks Mom,” he replied softly, suddenly feeling less conscious about his hearing aid because of his mother’s kindness. “Um, now I’ve got something that’s called a disability assessment session, which I truly don’t know much about because I’ve never done one for myself. I filled out some paperwork with Doctor Abbot’s help, but I don’t know what happened to it…”

Dr. Abbot looked thoughtful as he grabbed a chair and sat at eye-level with Frank, “We’ve taken copies of all your records from the hospital and also made our own reports here based on our observations of you, our interactions, your interactions with others, things you’ve done and said consciously and unconsciously…all of it…and we’ve been able to identify challenges,” he explained patiently. “On top of that, I also gathered your non-medical records from the hospital and had conversations with your father about you, as you gave me consent to do that. If you’re okay with it, I’d also like to have a private chat with your mom. I think your husband told you this chat was coming, right Mrs. Langdon?”

Elizabeth nodded, “While Doctor Abbot and I have a chat, Frank, I’d love for you to look over some things I brought you,” she explained warmly, offering him the bag. “Wait til we get back to the common room to open it, okay?”

Frank obeyed and kept the bag on his lap until he was back at a table in the common room. He then opened the bag to find several large-print books, brand new wordsearch and crossword books, a few large print Reader’s Digest magazines, a few large print Robert Munsch and Richard Scarry books, and an iSpy book, “You always did like to read,” Elizabeth explained softly. “And your father, when he was here, he noticed that you didn’t have any books. There might be days where you might not feel like being out and about, but still want something to do. There are all types of books, depending on what kind of day you’re having. If nothing else, the books will keep your brain active.”

“These are awesome, Mom,” Frank replied in a pleased tone, offering her a smile. “Thank you.”

Nodding, Elizabeth gently kissed the top of Frank’s head, “I’ll see you after I talk with Doctor Abbot,” she promised softly. “All right?”

Frank nodded, acting like he was ready to read as soon as possible. As Elizabeth left the common room with Dr. Abbot, however, she noticed Frank set the bag closed in his lap, tilt his head back, and close his eyes with a pained expression on his face, “Is Frank in pain?” she asked softly.

Dr. Abbot paused, watching Frank worriedly as the man winced, “I am going to have to ask David and Amanda about that,” he replied in a concerned voice.

“Oh,” Elizabeth spoke in a concerned voice, frowning because she recognized the name from the tag she had seen outside. “Do you mean David Martin?”

Dr. Abbot frowned at her and Elizabeth sighed, “I don’t know if I should say anything, but I was outside composing myself before I came in and I overheard David Martin tell a couple people in a van from a place called Trinity House that his husband, Lance, was fired by a board for falling out of remission…” she explained grimly. “And then I heard David talk about how Lance got evicted this morning while David was doing a double shift and Lance hauled all their things here on a public bus a day after he had chemotherapy…”

Dr. Abbot suddenly looked pissed, as he had been present for the conversation where Lance was fired, but he had promised David and Lance that he would help them on Monday with securing what they needed to survive on one income. The couple’s landlord, however, was a closet bigot in reality and had chosen to make life much harder for the couple and Dr. Abbot found himself letting out an aggravated sigh over that. Trinity House, Dr. Abbot realized, must have been Amanda’s doing, as they had both tried to lobby for Lance to simply be put on med leave and keep salary, but then the news about the center’s closing date had been shared and that had promptly ended any pleading.

“Thank you for letting me know,” Dr. Abbot replied in a quiet voice, making a mental note to find David later and offer him a ride back to the shelter so the kid wouldn’t have to take the bus after working til midnight that night. “Now, I’d better see what’s going on with Frank.”

Sighing softly, Dr. Abbot silently made his way over to Frank, who was now massaging his face and forehead and muttering under his breath while ignoring Oliver, who was trying to alert him to his own distress and failing, “Stupid Cassie,” Frank muttered as he winced. “Making me laugh.”

Dr. Abbot paused as he crouched next to Frank, “Cassie?” he asked softly.

“Cassie McKay,” Frank replied irritably. “She was here earlier to catch a drop-in counselor, but she took time to visit me and made me laugh, but the laughing…it aggravated my injuries…”

Dr. Abbot gave Frank a look, “If you’re in pain, you can ask for something,” he stated calmly.

“What, and have Santos and Michael think I’m a drug addict who needs to pop pills to function?” Frank asked irritably. “Do you think I’ve forgotten that’s all they see me as? Cassie babbled on about how Michael acted unethically by not drug testing me before firing me, but Michael’s words to me…that’s all he thinks I am. No matter what Michael and I used to be each other, we’ll never be that again. I’ll just be a stupid, worthless drug addict to him just because fecking Santos decided to tell him I was popping pills and keeping a drug stash in my locker. That stash was for Abby. Not for me. I never took anything I stole and he knows it. Even if I do need something, I’m going to prove that I don’t and that’s what I told Amanda. I asked for something and then Robby’s words exploded in my brain and I took it back. I can’t take anything. I’ll ride it out. I’ll probably throw up soon, but I’ll ride it out…”

Elizabeth, who had overheard Frank’s angry rant, gasped and suddenly looked pissed and concerned, but Dr. Abbot remained composed because he had expected that Frank’s recovery would not be without setbacks, especially where Robby and Santos and other triggers were concerned. He was not mad at Frank by any means, but he knew he had to talk to Frank and get his brain out of self-harm mode before anything else productive could be accomplished.

“Hey, Phoenix, you wanna open your eyes and look at me for a sec?” Dr. Abbot asked gently. “I’m not mad at you. I just wanna talk to you, but I wanna look at you while I talk to you, okay?”

Frank opened his eyes and gave Dr. Abbot a wary look, “It sucks that you’re letting yourself live with that godawful and very untrue label that Robby and Santos slapped on you, as it’s causing you to self-harm,” Dr. Abbot explained gently, giving Frank a concerned look. “I know you don’t mean to self harm, Phoenix, but that’s what you’re doing by giving those horrible words power and withholding help from yourself when you need it. Now, I need to talk to your mom anyway for the assessment, so I’m going to push your part of it back until this afternoon and you are going to take Tylenol and a nap right now. You can even nap in your mom’s lap on the couch and sleep while she and I talk if you don’t wanna go back to your room. I am not mad at you at all over this, just to be clear, but I am putting the brakes on your self-harm attempt because it is not good. Okay?”

“Okay,” Frank replied quietly, sighing heavily. “I’m never…I’m never going to forget…those words.”

Dr. Abbot sighed patiently, “That brings up something else I want to do when I’m done here for the day,” he spoke gently. “Now, I have no intention of revealing where you are, but I do want your permission to talk to Robby and Santos about how I’ve had brief conversations about your mental health with you and how harmful their words…specifically, their unproven accusations, their bad treatment of you, things like that…have affected your ability to take care of yourself. I want them to understand the power their words have had over you and how problematic their words have been for your mental health. Words…for better or worse…words have a lot of power over people even if that’s not the intent, Phoenix, and their words to you in particular have hurt you so badly. I want them to understand that reality so they can work on fixing their own behaviors…if they want to.”

“All right,” Frank replied quietly, sighing heavily. “If you think it’ll make a difference.”

Nodding, Dr. Abbot suddenly got up for a moment, moved out of sight, and returned a few moments later with a paper cup of water and a paper cup containing two Tylenols. Frank eyed the meds nervously, “I’d like to watch you take them and swallow them,” Dr. Abbot explained in a gentle, but firm tone, holding out the cup with the pills. “And I will check your mouth to make sure you didn’t cheek them.”

Frank hesitated for a moment, but he eventually took the cup with the meds with his good hand and swallowed them before taking the cup with the water and drinking all the water. Dr. Abbot then gently checked Frank’s mouth and cheeks and sighed when he found that the pills had been indeed taken, “Well done,” he replied in an encouraging tone. “Ready for a nap? You look tired…”

Frank’s eyes, however, suddenly filled with tears and he found himself crying into Dr. Abbot’s shoulder, deeply surprised when Dr. Abbot gently embraced him without saying a word and gently held him while he cried. Finally, when Frank felt ready, he eased out of the hug and sighed.

“Hey, Mom?” Frank asked softly, looking towards his mother. “Can I sleep on your lap while you talk to Doctor Abbot? I’m tired and my room’s kind of far.”

Even though she wasn’t quite sure what to make of Frank’s little meltdown except to blame it on a lack of love from his hospital colleagues, Elizabeth nodded, “Of course, sweetie,” she replied gently. “If someone can get a pillow and a blanket for you, I’ll stroke your hair and help you feel safe while you sleep just like I did when you were a boy and needed me…”

At that, Dr. Abbot quickly found himself getting up and going in search of a pillow and blanket because he could see that idea looked incredibly appealing to the overtired, pained Frank.

David had quickly settled Lance in their room and had briefly unpacked to make the space more welcoming, a space which they now had for two weeks thanks to Santos’s intimidation tactics, and then David had then gotten his keys and late pass. He had been prepared to wait for the bus, but Whitaker and Santos had offered him a ride back to the center because it was beginning to rain and they had to fetch McKay from her impromptu counseling appointment anyway. David had gratefully accepted the offer and had spent the entire ride sleeping, as he was working until later that evening and needed a rest before he plunged back into what he knew would be an exhausting shift.

When they finally arrived, Santos and Whitaker walked with David to the ramp, but then Whitaker suddenly found himself wanting a moment alone, “Um, I’m just going to sit out here and enjoy the smell of the rain,” Whitaker spoke softly as he moved off the ramp. “I’m fine. I promise. I just like the smell of rain. Always have. It was so nice to enjoy on the farm and I kind of miss it.”

Even though she wasn’t convinced, Santos nodded and led David inside, as she was feeling overprotective of David too after hearing his horrific story and wanted to make sure he got inside safely. David didn’t say anything, however, as he was grateful for Santos’s protection and advocacy on his behalf. He wasn’t very good at speaking up for himself when it came to anything and had simply been prepared to take what he had been given and simply let Lance search for their place online after he had a nap, as it would give his husband something to do. He had originally expressed concern about Lance using the computer unsupervised and passing out while overworking, but Lance had insisted he would be fine after a nap, so David had backed off on his concerns.

Ever since they had been together, Lance had been the one to help him speak up for himself as David couldn’t do it without gentle coaching. Lance had also been the one to organize what they had needed to live as a couple because David had been too intimidated by the landlord to speak up. After he and Lance had gotten married, David reflected, they hardly went anywhere that wasn’t connected to work because David had social anxiety disorder, something he had developed due to the attack and had managed to let slide for their wedding day to Dr. Abbot and Robby’s kind company. When COVID had happened and Lance was sick the first time, David had worked himself to the bone picking up a paycheque wherever possible and had been briefly forced to confront the disorder’s realities when Frank Langdon had shown up to their apartment to deliver Lance’s medicine and had tried to engage them both in social conversation. David had outed himself as having the disorder and had expressed worry about being judged, but Frank had been cool about it and had admitted to developing the same kind of thing, but wouldn’t say why. Both Amanda and Dr. Abbot had also about his disorder, David reflected, and so they had seen to it that David and Lance had worked the same shifts as much as possible so David would have a support system in place.

Things had worked for a while, David thought to himself, until Lance had suffered a recurrence and had been fired by the board, leaving David forced to learn how to use his own voice more often than not even though he didn’t want to. The problem was…he wasn’t entirely good at it outside of the professional setting. He could barely talk to Dennis or his foster father or anyone else for that matter socially without coming across as overly emotional, needy, or like he had no social skills.

David was so lost in thought about his own struggles that he didn’t notice that he and Santos had reached the Intake area and Santos was looking at him worriedly.

“Hey,” Santos spoke softly. “Um, David, we’re inside. Are you…are you okay?”

David blinked and sighed, “Just a little tired,” he lied quietly. “Thank you very much for the ride…”

“Doctor Trinity Santos,” Santos reminded him gently. “Do you think you might need a little tea or something before you get back to work? Are you allowed to eat or have tea at work?”

David nodded, “In the common area as long as it’s not busy,” he replied softly. “I pocketed a couple cookies from the basket at the Trinity House intake desk before I left…”

“You mentioned you were on until midnight, dude,” Santos spoke worriedly, frowning at him. “Two cookies isn’t enough. You’re gonna faint or worse if you don’t have something more filling.”

David sighed, “Let me get you something,” Santos offered. “And you can just sit for a minute…”

“All right,” David acquiesced softly as he moved over to the Intake desk and grabbed a Visitor badge. “We can make like I’m interviewing you for a volunteer spot. I’m Acting Charge Nurse, so I can do that sort of thing since we’re short on staff and you expressed an interest in that anyway. I’m also pretty sure you won’t leave me alone til I agree to eat something filling…”

Santos smirked and took the badge, “You’re right,” she replied in an amused voice. “I won’t.”

Sighing, David silently led Santos into the common room and over to the area where the open food was kept, food that was free for staff, patients, and visitors to take at their leisure.

Santos’s words, although stern and direct, had been powerful enough that David actually found that he cared about listening to her concerns, which is why he didn’t stop her when she immediately took charge and got him a super-sized muffin, a sandwich, and a bottle of juice. She then guided him over to the first open table she could see without touching him, as she could tell he wasn’t a fan of touch, and they sat across from each other. As David began to eat, Santos watched him briefly and then began to let her eyes wander so he wouldn’t feel self-conscious while he ate.

A pained, slightly anxious whimper suddenly filled the air followed by a frightened gasp, “Frank!” a woman’s concerned voice suddenly carried across the air. “Frank, honey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“…It felt…it felt so real, Mom,” a very familiar, but very pained voice suddenly filled the air. “It did.”

Santos’s eyes widened as she recognized the voice to be that of Frank Langdon, the man who had vanished from The Pitt without a trace during the evening shift several days ago. She turned her head towards the voice just in time to see an older woman, who had Frank resting on a pillow on her lap while they sat together on a nearby couch, gently stroke Frank’s hair in an attempt to calm him.

A golden retriever that was sitting beside the couch, one that was sporting some sort of vest, suddenly whined and sat up, quickly pawing at Frank’s arm.

Santos watched as Frank suddenly turned his head towards the whining dog and reached for him him, “Hey boy,” he spoke in a shaky voice. “What’s up? Did you sense that I needed help?”

“Do you want to sit up for a minute and have Oliver up here with us, sweetie?” Santos heard the woman ask softly. “I don’t think anyone would mind if he was on the couch. He’s a service dog…”

Santos was so focused on watching Frank that she didn’t see David abandon his half-eaten meal and hurry over to help Elizabeth with Frank because he didn’t like seeing anyone struggle when he was capable of helping them. Even though she was pissed and concerned that David wasn’t great at taking breaks to care for himself, Santos watched as David helped the woman get Frank into a sitting position. Frank then spoke to David and David nodded before lifting Oliver and gently setting the dog on to the couch next to Frank. Oliver immediately rested his head on Frank’s lap.

For several minutes, Frank petted Oliver with his right hand and Santos took the opportunity to get a better look at the man: Frank, Santos observed, was sporting scrub pants, an oversized loose shirt, an oversized hooded jacket, one sneaker, a walking cast, a head bandage, a bandage over his nose, a bruise on his eye, and a shoulder sling. His hair was also a slight mess, and he was somewhat pale, but he seemed a hell of a lot calmer than he had been during his time in The Pitt. Plus, Santos thought to herself, Frank was actually talking to people like he trusted them to help him…

David suddenly moved away towards the food station and Frank watched him go. As Frank moved his head back towards Oliver, however, he suddenly noticed Santos sitting at a table sporting a Visitor’s badge and he froze. Santos’s gaze quickly met his, as she could tell that she was being watched. The common suddenly became deathly quiet as Frank and Santos stared silently at one another, neither of them fully sure how to react to the other’s presence.

Frank felt uncertain and a little afraid to see Santos there, as he still had strong resentment against her for accusing him of drug use on the job and not even talking to him about her worries before running to Robby with her concerns.

At the same time, though, Frank was beginning to understand why she had done it because he had stolen drugs and behaved suspiciously enough that he hadn’t exactly presented as trustworthy. He had not exercised good judgment; he had let Abby manipulate and threaten him into making bad choices that had caused a lot of hurt, and his unwillingness to be honest about his problematic situation had caused a lot of trouble for himself and others.

Distress and regret filled Frank’s face, and he suddenly felt himself trying to apologize to Santos with his eyes and expression, as he couldn’t figure out how to do it with words. His brain wasn’t letting him speak at the moment, anyway, let alone formulate a verbal apology, and instead of trying to force himself beyond his current limits and risk issues, Frank decided to try non-verbal communication.

Santos, meanwhile, suddenly saw regret and sadness appear in Frank’s eyes and expression and she wasn’t sure how to respond because she had never seen the man appear so vulnerable and helpless before in the time she had known him. Even while Frank had been in The Pitt, Santos had avoided him and hadn’t felt a twinge of guilt about it, especially after Whitaker had almost been killed by Abby Langdon at Riverview Park. Now, however, Santos felt immense guilt.

It was so very clear that Frank blamed himself for a lot of crap, including his wife’s actions, as well as how the staff reacted to everything that had happened while he had been a patient in The Pitt, and Santos felt bad for adding to his guilt. She knew she had added to it, and she felt bad. She felt really bad. The guilt and the health problems that had probably come out of that unfettered guilt had probably led Frank to admit himself to this private hospital, as Santos could see a bit of a hospital bracelet poking out from underneath the sleeve of the hoodie and so she knew he was a patient there. That, and David suddenly racing to the aid of him and the vested golden retriever. The two, David and Frank, seemed to have a familiarity with each other that only a patient and nurse would have with one another and Santos was glad that Frank had found someone he could trust.

Swallowing hard, Santos silently worked to communicate her own non-verbal apology to Frank in a way that she hoped he would be able to comprehend and accept. As the two studied each other in silence, trying to understand and process the non-verbal messages that they were sending to each other, they didn’t notice that they were being watched and carefully observed by several others.

David, who was getting juice for Frank to help him relax, was silently lingering near the food space because he didn’t want to interrupt Frank and Santos’s silent stare-off unless it turned hostile.

Elizabeth Langdon, who had noticed her son suddenly freeze, still, and stare off at a table with an expression of shock on his face, was suddenly quiet as she noticed that Frank was looking at someone he obviously knew. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she wasn’t doing anything for the moment. She would however, act to protect her ill son if he turned out to need protection.

McKay, who had returned to the common room from her drop-in counseling session feeling refreshed and ready to return to her street team shift, had suddenly noticed Frank and Santos staring at each other in shock. She wondered what was going to happen, she was scared about what was going to happen, and she knew whatever was going to happen was going to be big because Santos had made it painfully clear that she had no love for Frank Langdon at all. Instead of intervening, however, McKay wanted to see if the two were actually capable of acting like adults towards each other or if they would require intervention to keep them from killing each other.

Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, had left the area temporarily to get the forms he needed to interview Elizabeth while Frank rested. He had come back to find Frank awake, sitting up, petting Oliver, and engaged in a silent stare-off with a nearby Trinity Santos. What she was doing there, he didn’t know.

Instead of intervening, however, Dr. Abbot had quickly ascertained that the two were attempting to communicate non-verbally with each other in a civil manner. He could see apologies, pain, and regrets in each of their eyes and expressions, and simply decided to wait and see how it would turn out. Dr. Abbot could truly see no harm in allowing the two adversaries an opportunity to make peace with each other, as it was clear that both Frank and Santos wanted to try and do that, were mindful that each of them had limits, and were content with working within each other’s limits.

There was time to wait, Dr. Abbot thought silently, and he would give Frank and Santos the time that they needed to communicate. The rest of the world, at least the world within Blue Mountain Wellness Center, could and would stop so that Frank Langdon and Trinity Santos could have the moment of reconciliation and healing that they both needed…and Dr. Abbot would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

“Hi,” Frank’s nervous, quiet voice broke through the silence after what seemed like an eternity.

Santos was quiet for a moment, being careful to study Frank’s face before she offered a reply.

Frank looked nervous about speaking up, as he couldn’t personally believe he had dared to offer a hello to someone who had hurt him and his life with a false accusation, but he knew he had to at least be civil. He had to at least offer the olive branch and know for sure if there was any chance he could at least gain some peace for himself with at least Santos. He wasn’t concerned about Michael at all, as he figured he and Michael were done, but he could at least try making peace with Santos if only to give himself an opportunity to have a wound inside of him heal a bit.

Santos, meanwhile, quickly gauged that Frank seemed like he would accept the same type of civil response that he had offered, so she could give at least that, “Hi,” she replied in a quiet, but kind tone, offering Frank a kind look.

Oliver suddenly began to whimper, and Frank sighed, realizing that the dog probably had to go out, “Um, can someone grab me my chair, please?” he asked in a concerned voice even though he kept his eyes on Santos because he didn’t know what she was going to do. “I need to take Oliver out.”

The mention of a wheelchair brought Santos pause, but only briefly and she immediately looked around for the chair, quickly rising from her seat when she spotted it nearby.

Before Dr. Abbot, David, McKay, or even the woman whom she didn’t know could react, Santos had brought the wheelchair over to Frank. She then exercised a practice she had learned at street team training and crouched beside Frank so that she was at eye level with him, something that she hoped would help him feel less intimidated.

Frank was immediately taken aback by her sudden kindness, and she could tell that immediately, but she remained patient, “Um…I could use some help,” Frank spoke quietly, forcing himself to look Santos in the eye. “If…if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Santos replied in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. “Um…can I help you stand?”

Frank eyed Santos nervously, “I’m…I’m a little nervous about women touching me,” he admitted in a quiet voice, suddenly looking sad. “Um, the day of PittFest...after Michael kicked me out of the hospital…I went home and ended up being assaulted on my kitchen floor…sexually assaulted. By Abby. She was drunk and high and angry….”

McKay’s eyes widened and she quietly covered her mouth to keep from retching all over the place, Dr. Abbot went white, David sucked in a breath and nearly fainted from shock that Frank had been verbally open about his experience, and Elizabeth covered her mouth and simply sat there rigidly, too horrified to say or do anything. Santos, meanwhile, looked taken aback and a little sad and even a little ashamed of herself that she had treated Frank so poorly because she could have used her own experience with sexual assault to be there for him if she hadn’t been so hung up on being angry at him over Abby Langdon assaulting Whitaker at Riverview Park.

“I promise not to hurt you,” Santos finally promised gently, offering her hand. “Why don’t we start by holding hands and then just sit like that for a minute?”

Frank eyed Santos’s offered hand for a moment with an expression of uncertainty in his face before allowing his right hand to slip into hers. Santos gave his hand a gentle squeeze and maintained eye contact with him.

“I think I’m okay to get up now,” Frank finally said after several moments. “Can you help me, please?”

Santos nodded, set the brakes on the chair, and carefully helped Frank to his feet, “You still good?” she asked gently as she looked at him. “I’m only holding on to what I need to in order to keep you on your feet. I’m not touching anything I don’t need to. You’re safe. I promise.”

“Okay,” Frank replied softly. “I’d nod, but I’m still recovering from some fractures that I’ve already had to take Tylenol for today. I…I trust you.”

Santos suddenly felt a chill shoot up her spine, wondering if those fractures had also been courtesy of Abby. Instead of commenting on it, however, she helped Frank sit in the wheelchair and gently moved his feet on to the footrests before moving back. Frank looked relieved.

“Thanks,” Frank replied softly. “Um…I think I’m ready to go out…and so is Oliver.”

Santos nodded, “Can I push your chair?” she asked softly. “I’ll be gentle.”

Nodding, Frank suddenly motioned for Oliver, who came to him immediately, but before he could talk to Oliver, he yawned a bit, as the Tylenol and the unfinished nap was making him feel a bit sluggish.

Fortunately for Frank, David could see that too and he wandered casually over to them, “Hey there, Frank,” David spoke in a gentle voice as he crouched next to Frank. “I heard you’re wanting to take Oliver out for a bit, but you’re looking a bit tired, so why don’t I just walk with you and…?”

“Trinity Santos,” Santos offered, wanting to help David keep her and David’s previous meeting a secret to protect Frank’s privacy and dignity.

David nodded, “Why don’t I just walk with you and Trinity and hold Oliver’s leash, and you can just enjoy the air?” he offered gently as he offered a bottle of juice with a straw in it. “And this? It’ll wake you up a bit. It’s a bit rainy…”

“I might enjoy it…the rain,” Frank spoke softly as he took the juice and allowed himself a sip from the straw. “Just in case you were worried.”

David looked amused as he suddenly produced an umbrella that he had gotten from a supply cupboard before coming over to Frank, “I was just going to say that I’ll be holding this umbrella over you so your bandages and casts don’t get wet while we’re outside,” he replied gently. “All right?”

Frank nodded and promptly surrendered the leash to him. David took the leash, opened the umbrella, and held it over Frank’s head as he, Oliver, Santos, and Frank went out into the rain-filled courtyard together.

Once he was sure that they were gone, Dr. Abbot silently looked at McKay, who was still struggling to compose herself after hearing Frank’s revelation, “McKay, get something to eat and sit down for a spell,” he spoke firmly. “I need to talk to you in a minute anyway.”

“Um, Dennis Whitaker…he’s outside,” McKay replied nervously. “He’s on our street team and he probably wanted time by himself since I don’t see him in here, but I should check on him. He’s probably outside at the van…”

Dr. Abbot cursed quietly, as he hadn’t realized that Whitaker was doing more things outside of his home so soon and it would be very bad news if Frank saw Dennis or knew he was nearby, “Um, Elizabeth, could you do me a favor and start looking over these on your own for a minute?” he asked calmly, passing the forms and a pen to Elizabeth. “They’re for your son’s assessment. If you have questions…I just need a minute, all right? Then I can help you with the forms myself.”

Nodding, Elizabeth began looking over the forms while Dr. Abbot quickly led McKay to the center’s entrance, “Doctor McKay, I’m gonna have to ask you to not tell Dennis that you saw Frank here,” Dr. Abbot spoke in a low voice. “I’m assuming that your visit with Frank went okay today cause he mentioned that you made him laugh and his visit with Santos seems to be going decently enough, but…there are certain people that I know for a fact Frank is not ready to face. He might not be able to face them for a long time, if ever again. He’s talked about those particular people and the pain he gets into when just talking about them…can you imagine how he’d react if…”

“If he saw Dennis face to face?” McKay guessed softly. “I can imagine it wouldn’t be good.”

Dr. Abbot nodded, his expression grim, “And the same goes for the subject of Robby,” he replied in a concerned voice. “Just don’t tell Dennis or Robby you saw Frank, okay? For Frank’s sake.”

McKay nodded, “I won’t,” she promised worriedly. “Do you think Frank might let me visit again?”

“I’ll ask him,” Dr. Abbot replied softly, nodding. “Just not today. He’s got a lot on his plate…”

McKay raised an eyebrow, “Oh, are you like his medical advocate?” she guessed softly. “When I was here a while back getting treatment for my own crap, I was assigned a medical advocate cause I was absolute garbage at taking care of myself and wasn’t capable of making responsible choices. If you are his advocate, that’s good. Especially with what I heard today…he needs someone to take care of him while he recovers from that. Being sexually assaulted without anyone to talk to about it…no wonder he was struggling as much as he was when he was in The Pitt. That will wear anyone down after a while. If someone who has bad experiences isn’t given someone to talk to that they can trust, they sort of crash out mentally for a while and they fall into a catatonic state they’re not helped. It can get pretty dark. I was kind of in catatonia a little bit myself, so I know how scary it can be. If Amanda hadn’t been around when I was here, I probably would have stayed catatonic.”

Dr. Abbot didn’t say anything to that, and McKay sighed, “It’s okay if you don’t have anything to say,” she spoke quietly. “I’m still recovering. Recovery…it’s never really done, but it gets easier as time goes on and I access helpful resources and good opportunities that help my recovery. And it also gets easier as I stay teachable and also let go of what doesn’t help me.”

Sighing quietly, McKay continued her walk out to the street team van and Dr. Abbot followed.

“Dennis?! DENNIS!”

As the doors to the street team van were unlocked and pulled open, Whitaker opened his eyes and was surprised to see McKay and Dr. Abbot peering at him worriedly.

“My God, Dennis, are you okay?” McKay asked worriedly, giving Whitaker a worried look. “We’ve been calling your name, and you haven’t been responding…”

Whitaker looked surprised, but nodded, “I’m fine,” he replied in a slightly shaky voice as he lay in a passenger seat. “I just got a little tired while I was sitting outside smelling the rain, so I decided to have a nap in the van…”

“Did you need your lunch bag?” McKay asked in a concerned voice. “It’s in the back. Maybe you ought to give yourself a little grace and have something to eat. Take care of yourself."

Whitaker sighed, “I just needed a little sleep,” he replied softly, not wanting to admit weakness. “It’s been a busy morning. My body’s still getting used to being out and about again after…everything…”

McKay, however, quickly moved around back, grabbed her lunch bag and Whitaker’s and brought them back to him. She handed him his lunch bag and then sat on the step of the van with hers.

Dr. Abbot silently lingered nearby, watching as Whitaker silently ate his lunch, which was a small tuna sandwich, four apple slices, and a juice box, hardly enough for the kind of work he was engaged in, but Dr. Abbot decided not to judge. When Whitaker was done, he silently returned to his sleep using his folded-up lunchbox as a pillow.

Whitaker’s quiet snores, meanwhile, filled McKay’s ears and she looked up at Dr. Abbot worriedly, “When Santos gets back, I’m going to see if we can’t drop Whitaker at home so he can sleep,” she whispered in a concerned voice. “We’ve been going since early morning. He’s tired himself out.”

“I’ll go check on Santos,” Dr. Abbot promised softly. “You stay here with Whitaker.”

McKay nodded and continued to eat her lunch while listening to Whitaker’s quiet snores. Dr. Abbot, meanwhile, headed back up the ramp and into the facility to see how things were going. He wanted to know details about how Frank and McKay’s interaction had gone earlier, but he didn’t have permission from Frank yet to talk to McKay about him, so he would have to get permission first before that conversation could take place.

The rain hitting the umbrella and the sound of the wheelchair’s wheels going along the wet sidewalk…the sounds were making Frank think of the traffic he had tried to drag his broken body to several days earlier when he was still a patient in The Pitt. That traffic was also making him think of why he had even attempted suicide in the first place and the hurt he had caused by his behavior: his lying, his endangering others with his lies and his need for attention, his stealing the meds, his inability to keep his domestic violence situation within the confines of his home, and everything that had happened to the people in The Pitt, the people at Riverview Park, and to Dennis Whitaker…

And then he had confessed his desire to jump off the roof to Robby and then had ended up in psychiatric hell, unable to do anything for himself or his children, and everything had just snowballed quickly from there…

A paw suddenly poked his knee, and Frank promptly opened his eyes, more than a little concerned that he had closed them without realizing it.

Why am I reflecting on my suicide attempt now? Frank wondered worriedly as he gazed off into the rainy courtyard with a frown on his face. The sounds…they’re just sounds…they shouldn’t mean anything…they shouldn’t trigger anything, but they are. They're triggering everything.

The wheelchair suddenly rolled to a stop as the rain increased. As David, who had immediately noticed that Frank wasn’t responding to Oliver’s alerts, knelt down to check on Frank, Frank immediately felt himself begin to shiver and sweat. He could vaguely hear both David and Santos calling his name, but Frank felt powerless to respond even though he very much wanted to. He had drunk the juice quickly, but the bottle had since disappeared…maybe he had dropped it…

He suddenly felt chilly even though he was sweating profusely. Nausea and light-headedness also enveloped him, and he gagged so violently that he thought he was going to throw up, but he didn’t. Tears, however, suddenly filled Frank’s eyes and he found himself sobbing quiet apologies for wanting to run into traffic or throw himself off the roof of the hospital, as that had hurt people.

Santos suddenly froze in her tracks, as she had been there the night that Frank had attempted to escape The Pitt with the intention of throwing himself into the street with the hopes of getting hit by a car, but she hadn’t known what to do to help him except follow after him. Robby had been the one to call out to Frank and to catch Frank when the man had fallen. She had just been an observer.

And she was still an observer…or was she? She suddenly felt very involved whether or not she wanted to be.

“Doctor Santos, can you give me a hand?” Santos suddenly heard David ask in a concerned voice.

Santos quickly snapped to attention and helped move Frank and Oliver back inside in a hurry just as Dr. Abbot returned to the common area, “Frank?” Elizabeth spoke in a concerned voice, frowning at the non-responsive, trembling mess that her son suddenly was. “Frank? What…what’s going on?!”

Quickly grabbing an emergency response kit, which was a black and red duffel stocked with most emergency supplies, off the wall, Dr. Abbot rushed over to them. He grabbed the pillow and blanket off of the couch and set them up on the floor.

“We…we were fine…we were going along quietly, and then all of a sudden, he started showing weird symptoms and apologizing about trying to kill himself at The Pitt,” Santos blurted out anxiously, frowning as Dr. Abbot and David gently moved Frank from the wheelchair to the blanket and pillow.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened at what she had just overheard, “Excuse me?!” she spoke in a confused, slightly horrified voice, appalled by the fact that she had nearly lost her only living son to suicide. “Frank tried to kill himself?!”

All of a sudden, Santos found herself sitting on the couch with Frank’s mother, sharing brief introductions, and explaining what had happened back in The Pitt that had led to the 5150 hold being placed on Frank, something she knew details about because she had spotted Frank outside that night when she had been getting some air and had followed him across the ambulance bay, or at least she had followed the mess that had been the man at the time. Elizabeth Langdon listened in quiet horror as Santos had recalled following Frank the night he had slowly made his way across the ambulance bay towards a nearby street full of busy traffic with his head down, his arm clinging to his chest tube drains and IV pole like they were his last treasures on earth, and steps that were slow, unsteady, and seemed very painful in sock feet while sweating, shivering, and sniffling shakily. Santos had then shared that Dr. Robby had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, had screamed Frank’s name to get his attention, and then had caught the man in his arms because Frank had suddenly fallen without warning, and then Robby had cuddled Frank for what seemed like an eternity while listening to the poor man mumble about how he wanted to jump off the roof instead.

Elizabeth Langdon had been shocked speechless by that, but she didn’t leave, nor did she speak about wanting to. For better or for worse, Frank was her only living son and she would be there for him even if it meant she had to hear about, see, and learn about his very painful experiences. Her love for her son was unconditional and that would not change even if he had endless struggles.

A weak, muffled groan suddenly filled the air, “…Easy, easy,” David suddenly spoke softly. “Just lie there in the blanket and take some slow, deep breaths for a minute. All right? You passed out outside…”

A few minutes more passed, and Santos suddenly saw Elizabeth Langdon get up and move to her son’s side just as Frank was slowly moved into a sitting position with the oxygen mask still on his face and the blanket still around his shoulders. He looked tired, but more aware of things.

Santos watched as Elizabeth Langdon gently embraced her son, hold him, and gently begin to rub his back, an act that caused Frank to slowly relax and fall asleep on her shoulder.

“Right, Phoenix, can your mom and David help you back into your chair and take you to your bed?” Dr. Abbot spoke gently. “I want you to go to bed and stay there for the rest of the day, okay? You need time to recover from what just happened before we do anything else with your recovery. Your mom can stay as long as she wants and if your dad shows up, I’ll bring him to you.”

Frank immediately lifted his head and promptly mumbled a sleepy apology for whatever had happened that made him have a catatonic spell, but Dr. Abbot sighed patiently, “Give yourself some grace, Phoenix,” he replied gently. “We’re still early in your recovery process and we still don’t know what your disability is yet, so you’re still gonna struggle with it. Once we know what it is, though, and you’re getting the proper treatment, life won’t be as hard for you as it is now. You might honestly have more than one disability, but we can work with that. Tomorrow. Today, you’re going to let David and your mom help you up into the chair and you’re going go to sleep for a while. Okay? David, get him on some fluids and on a mask once he’s back in bed and covered up. Keep him warm and let Oliver stay with him. I’ll reschedule his stuff for tomorrow.”

A confused, concerned expression filled Santos’s face: Frank had an undiagnosed disability? If he did, Santos thought worriedly to herself, that explained a lot of things. A lot of things…

Santos was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Elizabeth and David leave the area with a sleepy Frank in a wheelchair and she definitely didn’t notice Dr. Abbot join her on the couch.

“Hey,” Santos suddenly heard Dr. Abbot speak in a gentle, yet concerned tone. “You there?”

Santos frowned at Dr. Abbot, “Was I wrong to tell Doctor Langdon’s mother the whole story?” she asked softly. “I could tell she was freaked out about hearing that he tried to kill himself, and I didn’t realize she heard me tell you, so…”

“No,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, shaking his head. “It’s honestly better for her to have a real understanding of the situation once she heard Doctor Langdon speak of the action. Now that she has the better understanding of how ill her son really is, she can let Doctor Langdon’s father know and they can have proper supports in place for when he gets out of here. He’ll need them. He’s sure as hell not gonna get that help here thanks to the board deciding to close the place by the end of the year. Normally, discharged patients would get external support on a continual basis, but the board is making cutbacks and outpatient service is gonna be gone soon. I had to fight like hell for what I was able to get for Doctor Langdon and as a result, the board’s not fond of me right now. I won’t go into details, as I can’t, but it ‘s really good that he’s got support outside of this place. Anyway, for a moment, let’s go back to what you shared with Doctor Langdon’s mother. I did overhear that, by the way, and you were a little emotional in your sharing even if that was not your intent, so you obviously have some feelings…unresolved feelings…about what went down. Do you wanna talk about that now that we have a moment to ourselves?”

Santos paused before nodding, suddenly looking a little sad, “That night that Langdon tried to kill himself, I wasn’t even involved with his care,” she spoke in an unusually shaky voice. “I had just heard about him escaping his room without his service dog and everyone was panicking. I was pissed about Psych acting like the guy was a leper and I was just overwhelmed with thoughts and a little claustrophobic because of my thoughts…so I decided to get some air. Alone.”

A realization suddenly came over Dr. Abbot’s face as he thought back to that night, as he had remembered Santos stepping out for air in the middle of the situation, but he had just thought she was being an insensitive jerk.

Dr. Abbot realized now that Santos had been processing her own feelings in the only way she knew how, which was by detaching from other people and isolating herself to breathe. Dr. Abbot sighed, as knew he owed Santos an apology for his own inappropriate judgment and fully intended to offer it after their chat.

Santos, meanwhile, sighed softly as she took a moment to breathe before speaking again.

“Anyway, I was outside breathing and getting my head together when all of a sudden, I saw Doctor Langdon slowly making his way across the ambulance bay towards the nearby street with his head down, his arm clinging to his chest tube drains and IV pole like they were his last treasures on earth, and steps that were slow, unsteady, and looked very painful in sock feet, as he didn’t have any shoes on,” Santos explained in a quiet voice, her expression sad as she spoke. “Doctor Langdon was also sweating, shivering, and I could hear shaky sniffling coming from him too. I decided to follow him cause I was worried he was gonna hurt himself. In fact, I knew he was gonna hurt himself cause he was headed towards the street and I was scared for him. He looked so sad and hopeless. It scared the hell out of me, honestly, to see him so lost…”

Dr. Abbot nodded, deeply surprised to see such a vulnerable side of Santos, especially where Frank was concerned, “All of a sudden, I heard Doctor Robby yell and saw Doctor Langdon begin falling,” Santos breathed in a pained voice as tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to help, but I was frozen. I couldn’t move, but I saw Doctor Robby run like he had a freaking fire behind him and catch the guy. Doctor Robby held him and started sobbing over him. And then I heard Doctor Langdon mumble that the roof was too far away…that he had originally wanted to jump off the roof. I sort of went into autopilot after that. I just sort of emotionally crashed, helped get Langdon inside, and then just handed him over to others. I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I cut myself off from it and went to sit with Dennis for the rest of the night. Then, I heard about the 5150 hold and so did Dennis. I figured it was for Langdon and Dennis wanted to talk to Langdon, but I knew it wasn’t a good idea, so I dragged him back to bed, as he was up using the bathroom. Dennis still wants to talk to Langdon, by the way, but Dennis…his recovery’s not on solid ground yet and I’m sure as hell not bringing him back here, especially not after what you said and not after what I’ve seen. I might even try to talk him into taking a break from the street team for a while and resting some more. Like, this place isn’t bad, but Doctor Langdon’s catatonic spell...that’s making me even want to take a break.”

“Are you seeing a therapist?” Dr. Abbot asked softly, a little worried about Santos’s emotions.

Santos nodded, “When you see them again, talk to them about what you told me,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly. “They have to keep it quiet, so it’s okay to talk about how you feel about seeing your colleague attempt suicide. Just allow yourself to heal from that experience because you have your own feelings about it. You were there and a part of it, so you have your own healing to do from it.”

Before Santos could reply, Randall Langdon suddenly came wandering into the room with a cup holder full of smoothies, saw Dr. Abbot talking with Santos, saw the bag on the table that his wife had brought for Frank, saw the mess of medical supplies on the floor, and froze because he could immediately tell something bad had happened, something that had likely involved his son.

Dr. Abbot quickly noticed Randall, but Randall didn’t speak immediately and instead collected the bag from the table, “Where’s my son?” Randall finally asked worriedly, giving Dr. Abbot a worried look.

“Give yourself some grace and take care of yourself,” Dr. Abbot whispered to Santos. “Okay?”

Santos nodded as Dr. Abbot got up and moved over to Randall. While the two of them talked, Santos quietly got up, briefly eyed the table where David had left his uneaten food because she was worried about him, and then silently left because she knew McKay and Whitaker were most likely waiting for her in the van. While passing by Intake, however, Santos grabbed a volunteer application form because she very much wanted to come back and be of help to the people there as a volunteer. After her experience with Frank that day, Santos knew that she needed to learn how to be a better judge of character and volunteering at the center would help her be able to do that.

It didn’t take long for Santos to return to the parking lot during which time she had pocketed the volunteer forms, as she wanted to keep her want to volunteer there a secret from everyone, especially Whitaker. She knew if Whitaker knew what she was doing, he would want to join in and claim getting out and about was good for his recovery, but she didn’t want him to be there of all places with her for two reasons: he had barely been able to do a shift with the street team without tiring and he and Dr. Langdon were not ready to see each other again by any means.

As she approached the van, the rain suddenly eased, and Santos suddenly felt tired.

“Huckleberry, I was thinking…” Santos began in a concerned voice as she opened the back door and found Whitaker asleep in his seat hugging himself and using his folded-up lunch bag as a pillow. “Huckleberry?”

Whitaker sighed sleepily, but didn’t open his eyes, “I just wanna go home to our place, Trin,” he spoke in a sleepy voice. “I think we did a lot today. At least…it was a lot to me. I’m tired.”

“Give yourself some grace, Huckleberry,” Santos replied softly. “You did good today.”

Whitaker shrugged sleepily, but didn’t say anything. Sighing, Santos climbed into the van and settled into the seat next to him, deeply surprised when the sleepy Whitaker suddenly snuggled against her while continuing to sleep and hug himself. Instead of getting upset or moving away, Santos simply stayed there, feeling relieved that Whitaker had felt safe enough to do that, as he had been skittish about touch and any sort of human contact at all ever since his attack.

“Hey McKay, can you drive us back to Trinity House?” Santos asked softly, gazing at McKay, who was lounging in the front seat. “Um…”

McKay peered at Whitaker using Santos as a pillow briefly before nodding, “Yeah,” she replied calmly as she stood and quickly moved to the driver’s seat. “Thank God I’m off the ankle monitor and allowed to do that again now.”

“…I’ve rescheduled Frank’s disability assessment session for tomorrow. Today, I just want him to rest with an IV an oxygen and have his supper in here. You can stay with him as long as you want…”

Frank heard his parents’ voices filled the air as he suddenly felt himself coming to. He also felt something cool on his face, “…Randall…” he heard his mother say in a concerned voice. “Frank’s moving…”

Light suddenly shone in his pupils and Frank opened his eyes in the middle of it, something that made the light go away. Frank could see his parents at his side as well as Dr. Abbot and he also knew there was a mask over his face. He exhaled weakly and suddenly saw Dr. Abbot suddenly move closer with a request to follow his finger with his eyes, a request he followed.

All of a sudden, Frank felt the mask come off and felt a tube being put in his nose. A straw was suddenly poked into his mouth, “Drink slowly,” he heard Dr. Abbot say gently.

Frank obeyed until the water was gone and once the straw was out, he suddenly realized he couldn’t look his parents in their eyes. He had blurted out about being raped by Abby in front of his mother and he had also apologized for attempting suicide. His mother had heard it, and he knew she had. He was ashamed and felt so sorry that his parents had to deal with the mess that he now was. Before Frank could muster the energy for an apology, however, he suddenly felt his mother embracing and holding him gently.

A few minutes passed before Frank suddenly felt his father holding him too, “I’m sorry,” he whispered shakily as he cried. “I remember how sad you both were when Jerry…when he was killed…and then I tried to kill myself. I literally tried to throw myself into traffic and rambled to Michael about wanting to throw myself off a roof. Christ, what…what the hell is wrong with me?!”

“You’re in a lot of pain, pal,” Randall replied in a somber, but gentle voice as he sat on Frank’s left side and suddenly noticed the hearing aid in his left ear. “You’re struggling…in every single way…and that’s the reality. It doesn’t make you a bad person, though. You’re still a beautiful person worthy of love.”

Frank scoffed, “I don’t feel very beautiful right now, Dad,” he replied tiredly, a shocked look filling his face as he realized he could hear out of his left ear. “Wait…I’m not deaf in my left ear anymore.”

“I noticed your new accessory,” Randall commented gently. “It’s very cool looking. Maybe your mom can sew a cool skin for it and even make it look like you’re wearing an earring…”

Elizabeth Langdon, who was mopping Frank’s sweaty forehead from a chair that was next to Oliver, scoffed, “An earring, Randall?” she replied in a mock annoyed voice, smiling at Randall. “I was thinking more a Spongebob skin. Frank needs something bright and cheerful, I think…””

Frank scoffed groggily and rolled his eyes before smiling tiredly, “My God, Mom …Spongebob is creepy,” he replied in an amused voice, fighting the urge to laugh because he didn’t have the energy to do that even though he very much enjoyed bantering with his parents. “Batman…maybe…”

Deciding to give Frank time alone with his parents, Dr. Abbot quietly excused himself and suddenly noticed that David was not in the room either. Concerned about where the young nurse had gotten to, Dr. Abbot quickly returned to the common room and saw that David was sitting at a table, silently finishing off a small sandwich and taking sips of juice at the same time while keeping his eyes on the slowly growing crowd that was arriving for lunch and noon activities. Just as Dr. Abbot reached the table, David finished his much too small meal and looked up at him anxiously as if he feared being put on report for daring to take a moment to eat when it was getting busy.

“Did you get enough to eat?” Dr. Abbot asked quietly, taking a seat at the table. “You’re on til midnight, right?”

David nodded, “I’m only on til midnight as long as Patrick doesn’t quit like he threatened to after last night’s brawl in the Mental Health Unit,” he replied in a grim, but quiet voice. “It seems like we get a fight in there every night more often than not lately because there aren’t enough of us to get to everyone’s needs immediately. Anyway, after the fight last night got broken up, I spent half the night filling out incident paperwork and the other half of the night doing vitals and wellness checks on the whole center. Security is useless and Patrick’s an LPN who constantly needs supervising and a lot of patience. Amanda…thankfully, is here til nine tonight and then Patrick relieves her after that. I’m feeling blessed that I only have to deal with Patrick for only three hours tonight. I don’t enjoy being a supervisor, honestly…not anymore. How the hell do you even tolerate being a supervisor here in what this place is becoming? It’s not what it used to be and it’s only going to get worse til it closes. The whole place is literally on my shoulders at night, and I feel like I’m failing it and myself. I’ve been employed here for 12 years as a street teamer and a nurse because I can’t mentally handle working in a city hospital without being reminded of…being a patient. I only managed to set foot in one recently because Lance needed to be there. Even when the center was closed during the lockdown, I was never off the center’s employee list. And then Amanda had a baby during lockdown, so they thought it would be a bright idea to make me Acting Supervisor and keep me in the role even after the place opened and she came back to work. Again, how the hell do you tolerate…?”

“I remember to give myself grace and remind myself that my best is good enough even on a bad day,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, giving David a concerned look. “I can tell you’re not doing that at all…”

David scoffed quietly and rolled his eyes, “Lance…he’s the one that gives me that reminder because I can’t give it to myself,” he explained in a quiet voice. “I really can’t. I’ve tried.”

Exhaling softly, David got up and pointed to his scrub pants pockets that looked like they had things in them, “I have a muffin and a cookie on me, and I will snack on them later on,” he explained quietly. “I’ve eaten all I can tolerate for right now. Do Frank or his parents need anything?”

“You can check,” Dr. Abbot replied calmly. “Since you’re looking for something to do besides taking care of yourself like you should.”

Suddenly terrified that he had pissed the normally patient Dr. Abbot off to the point where he was going to get put on report for disrespecting a superior, David suddenly bowed his head, silently hugged himself, and closed his eyes to take a breath.

Immediately recognizing what was going on, Dr. Abbot got up, and moved over to David’s side, perching himself on the edge of the table as he reached him. He knew that David was having a trauma response, which didn’t happen very often, but did happen when David felt like he was in trouble with someone who had authority over him. It was one of the after-effects of the torture that David’s biological parents and their religious leader had put him through, something that the center knew about and did their best to help him by letting him work with his husband as much as possible to give him that mental anchor.

Now that Lance was fired due to his cancer, however, Dr. Abbot knew that David was struggling to get by mentally and needed support whenever and wherever he could get it.

“Hey,” Dr. Abbot spoke gently, being careful not to touch David as they sat together. “You with me?”

David sighed, “Y-yeah,” he spoke shakily, taking another breath before opening his eyes and looking at Dr. Abbot nervously. “Look, Doctor Abbot, if I pissed you off, I’m sorry…”

“You didn’t,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, shaking his head while offering David a reassuring look. “Grace includes self-care, David. Give yourself grace. The staff situation is crap now, I agree, and it’s probably only gonna get worse as more cuts happen, but you can at least remember to breathe, so do that even if that’s all you can do. Do you remember those breathing exercises Doctor Adamson and I taught you when you were in the hospital recovering from your attack? Let’s do a couple of them right now, okay?”

David obliged and slowly felt himself relax, “You know…I’ve been meaning to find out where he’s buried,” he spoke quietly after he had done the exercises. “Doctor Adamson. I heard he died in 2020. I always wanted to pay my respects and thank him for helping me, but funerals…they weren’t public then and then Lance got sick. There were some days I couldn’t even go home because I didn’t want to risk his health. I’m starting to feel like that again. Like I can’t go home…mentally.”

“That’s why you need to remember to give yourself grace, kiddo,” Dr. Abbot replied gently. “Breathing will help your mindset. I know you can’t do anything but group therapy, which is hard for you to get to right now cause of everything else going on in your life, but you can breathe and allow yourself that self-care…”

David nodded and composed himself, “Thank you for the chat,” he spoke gently. “I, um, had better get back to work, though, before management docks my pay for taking an unauthorized break. Did Frank or his parents need anything? Juice and food, maybe? So they can just relax for a bit?”

“Maybe,” Dr. Abbot replied softly, hoping at least some of what he said had landed.

Nodding, David got up and moved off towards the food area to get things for the Langdons.

“I am a person,” Frank’s quiet, tired voice filled the air as David entered the room with a small basket of snacks and drinks he had collected for the Langdons. “I am a good person. I am enough.”

David paused at the door as he watched Frank, who had obviously been doing his affirmations, silently stare at himself in the mirror while his parents watched with curious expressions on their faces. Oliver, meanwhile, lay on the bed and looked completely relaxed.

“I…I do this three times a day, you know,” Frank spoke in a tired voice. “Along with writing in a journal and making myself drink water. I know it seems like simple stuff, but it’s really not. Over the weekend, when I tried to do all of it, it made me so tired that I could barely see straight and I thought about berating myself for being so weak, but then I asked myself if that was my voice telling me I was weak…or if it was Abby’s. My brain…it’s still not okay and I’m angry at it and at myself…”

Randall suddenly looked very thoughtful, “Well, pal, you gotta give yourself some grace and just remember that you’re currently in the process of getting well,” he replied softly as he gently stroked his son’s hair. “Getting well when you’re not well…it’s a process. Not an event. It takes time.”

“That hair stroking is making me sleepy,” Frank suddenly mumbled, his eyes beginning to droop as he slowly began to lose his grip on the mirror so much so that he passed it to his mother before he ended up dropping it. “I…I wanted to ask you about Tanner and Maria before I slept for a bit. Dana…Dana texted me last night and said you all had dinner together yesterday…at her house.”

Elizabeth nodded and smiled at her sleepy son, “It went well,” she replied gently. “Tanner knows who we are. He wants us to visit again. Maria also seems to like us. Tanner also asked about you, but we said you were busy working. Tanner also said he wanted to make you another bracelet.”

“Oh,” Frank replied sleepily as he finally lost the fight to keep his eyes open because his father stroking his hair was proving much too comforting for him to stay awake. “That might keep him…that might keep him busy for a while. God…I’m sleepy. I…I can’t stay awake…”

Randall sighed, “What do we do when we’re tired, Frank?” he asked gently. “We go to sleep.”

“Mhm,” Frank mumbled sleepily as he slowly surrendered to sleep. “I’m…going…to…sleep.”

David waited a moment before he approached the bed with the basket, “Um, Doctor and Mrs. Langdon, here are some snacks for the two of you so you can stay with your son as long as you would like to,” he spoke in a quiet voice, as he gently placed the basket in Elizabeth’s lap.

Unsure about what to say about the kind gesture, Elizabeth nodded her thanks and continued to silently watch Frank sleep. Randall, however, silently gave David a once-over, noticed the bulges in his scrub pant pockets that were most likely snacks, the tiredness in the young man’s eyes, and the fact that he seemed a little anxious and pale. Besides that, Randall observed, the baggy clothing indicating weight loss and the slightly unkempt hair indicating a lack of self-care was also a giveaway that the young man had very real struggles.

Randall silently cleared his throat and David looked at him expectantly as if he were not a person, but some kept pet meant to respond on command, “Yes sir?” David asked nervous, his expression immediately nervous as he studied Frank’s father. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

“How are you doing?” Randall asked quietly, offering him a gentle look. “I mean, you’ve been so helpful to Frank from what I’ve seen when I’ve been here and he’s obviously comfortable with your presence, so you’ve probably been helping him since he got here. His mother and I appreciate that, by the way…but how are you doing? You look like you work very hard at what you do here.”

David looked a little taken aback and quickly put his guard up, as he knew Frank’s father was a psychologist with his own practice and was worried that the man was trying to psychoanalyze him since Frank was asleep. David immediately felt unsafe and felt a need to protect himself.

“I am the very, very busy Acting Charge Nurse over the multiple units that make up Blue Mountain Wellness Center,” he explained in a patient, but slightly nervous voice as he gave the man a professional glance, ultimately deciding to give Randall Langdon a spoonful of grace because the man probably didn’t know about his severe aversion to therapists. “Besides me, there is only one other RN on the floor today until nine p.m. and her name is Amanda. Amanda is the center’s official Charge Nurse, but she is currently busy seeing to the administrative side of things. There is also a volunteer hairdresser, and a volunteer doctor on site, though, if you need those services…”

Randall nodded, quickly sensing that as nice and professional as David was, he definitely had an aversion to social communication and he also a major aversion to communication with psychologists due to a lack of trust. Randall could also sense, just by a sadness he could see in David’s eyes, that something had happened to David at the hands of a therapist that had left deep scars. Ultimately deciding to avoid making David uncomfortable any longer, Randall sighed softly.

“I…I think we’re okay for the moment,” Randall spoke in a kind voice. “Thanks for your help.”

Nodding, David silently left the room for what seemed like an eternity before he returned with a blood pressure monitor and other things Frank didn’t need full time anymore as well as Frank’s chart, “Since I’m here, I might as well do a vitals check,” he spoke quietly. “Okay? Given the events of today…”

Elizabeth immediately moved with the basket and her chair and sat on the window seat with the basket, silently inviting David to approach with his equipment, which he did. After a few moments of using the equipment and making notes on the chart, David suddenly paused at a reading on the blood pressure machine and left, leaving Frank hooked up to the equipment.

Confused and concerned about what might be going on, Randall hopped off the bed and moved in the same direction as David did. He reached the common area just in time to see David show Dr. Abbot, who was still chilling at the table with one of his feet slightly elevated, Frank’s chart.

“…His blood pressure’s low and I think saline will help,” David’s voice spoke nervously. “Thoughts?”

Dr. Abbot raised an eyebrow at David, “What happened in there, kid?” he asked in a concerned voice, immediately catching on that something bad had gone down in Frank’s room. “You don’t usually ask my thoughts on something in such a passive way. You usually just say what…”

“Doctor Langdon Senior was trying to analyze me,” David replied in a quiet, but slightly pained voice, scowling at his superior. “And he was studying me. I just need to get this IV done and then I am going to do a little wellness sweep outside. I think there might be a few people out there now that the rain’s stopped. I just need your signature to authorize the order, and I can go do it…”

Dr. Abbot, however, took the chart instead, “Go do the sweep,” he replied gently, realizing that David was trying to get himself a moment alone cause Frank’s father had crossed his personal boundaries, and he needed space before he could do the rest of his shift properly. “I’ll do the IV. Okay? Make sure you do a thorough sweep. Take your time with it. And remember to breathe. Go.”

Nodding his thanks, David vanished outside, and Randall immediately felt bad for what he had caused, as he hadn’t meant to trigger the young nurse, but he had done exactly that.

“Um…Doctor Abbot, do you think I could perhaps apologize to David?” Randall asked in a shaky voice, his expression pained as he approached Dr. Abbot’s table and sat. “I really did not mean to set David off. I could just tell that something wasn’t right in his eyes. God, even when I’m not working, it’s hard for me to turn my work brain off, you know? I see things that are off, and I find myself wanting to comment on them and help if I can. I…I also have a slight case of anxiety disorder. It developed after Jerry was killed because it was a situation I felt so powerless in and I ended up in the hospital for a little while on a Psych stay because my anxiety was so bad. It’s not nearly as bad as it used to be, as I’m on meds and I am seeing my own therapist for it, but sometimes it can be difficult. Ever since this stuff with Frank started, actually, I’ve been in communication with my therapist almost daily because I feel powerless as hell right now. How could I not know what was happening to my own son before it came to the point where he needed to be here? The first time I came here, the reminders of my own stay in the hospital after Jerry’s death were so intense and I had to call to my therapist right after I got home. My therapist simply told me to focus on being Frank’s father, not his doctor, and to pace myself with visits. That’s why it took me a while to come back here. I’m a lot better now, thankfully. I’ve been working with my therapist, and I’ll keep doing that, but I also feel guilty. I’m a psychologist with his own practice, but I’m finding this experience with my own child challenging. Is that normal or am I just crazy?”

Dr. Abbot looked thoughtful, “As doctors, we’re great at helping others, but we’re not so good in situations that involve ourselves or our loved ones,” he observed gently. “We struggle with what our role should be when we’re the patients or our loved ones are the patients. We try to be the doctor, but we can’t be because it overloads us. People don’t function well when they’re too overloaded. Back when I got injured on military duty, I still wanted to do my job even though I was the patient, but I quickly learned that I could not do that right away because my injury had changed me. It changed the way I was able to do things. It changed the way I was able to live and function. I had to figure out how to live differently before actually living again. I had to stop being who I knew myself to be for a while and focus on figuring out what worked and what didn’t. I had to be patient with being the patient. Only when I had my crap together again did I start being a doctor again, but even now, there are times when I have to exercise patience with myself and take a step back because something is too much for me. Doctors are allowed to give themselves grace. Grace includes self-care. Care that is focused on ourselves, and not on the needs of others…”

Randall sighed as he smirked, “You know, it’s been years since Jerry’s murder and the breakdown I had because of it, but I still suck at taking care of myself sometimes, and I think Frank inherited that from me,” he spoke grimly. “In fact, seeing what I’ve seen, I know he did. And just like me, Frank struggled to communicate his struggles to live in the world and outright crashed to the point of needing hospitalization. Events beyond his control also made it a hell of a lot worse for him to want to stay in the world. As terrible as it is that Frank tried to commit suicide, it was the only way he knew how to communicate his pain. I’m so grateful he didn’t succeed, and I am also so sad that it came to this. I can’t fix him and his brokenness, but I can love him and remind him to give himself grace as he recovers. He’s very much struggling with that concept. As his father, I can just tell.”

“And you are also struggling with the concept of giving yourself grace as you try to figure out what your role is in Frank’s recovery,” Dr. Abbot reasoned gently. “You’re doing great so far by just being there for him, but this is only the beginning. As Frank progresses, gets diagnosed, and changes…”

Randall sighed, “I should probably fill out one of those forms for his assessment as his father, as it might prove helpful,” he spoke softly. “I have my own observations of Frank as his parent, and I can also provide a little history of my own mental struggles that will probably help get him diagnosed…”

“I’ll get the forms for you,” Dr. Abbot replied gently, getting up from the table. “Just sit tight, okay?”

As Dr. Abbot walked off to get the forms and full of relief that Randall seemed to already be listening and giving himself grace by simply letting himself play the role of father, being open about his want to be of more help while acknowledging that he couldn’t be and also being real about his own need for support through this experience. While Dr. Abbot was gone, Randall silently got his phone out and silently called his therapist as he wandered out into the courtyard, mad as hell at himself for what had happened between him and David because he had truly not intended to cause harm.

As his therapist answered, he sat on a bench near the door and began to talk quietly about how he had accidentally tried to analyze a nurse at his son’s hospital because the nurse looked to be in pain, and he wanted to help him but had ended up causing hurt instead. Unknown to Randall, however, David was walking nearby in an attempt to compose himself so he could go back to work and overheard Randall talking on the phone and address the person on the phone as ‘Dr. Sayers.’

David suddenly stopped in his tracks, as he knew Dr. Sayers from the group therapy sessions he had attended prior to COVID. Dr. Sayers had led the group and had been a good and thoughtful facilitator and had tried to reach out to him after therapy had become available again, but David had been too busy and wasn’t a fan of individual therapy, so he had quietly blown the man off.

Never, David thought to himself, did he expect that Dr. Randall Langdon, one of the most esteemed family therapists in the city, would need a psychologist of his own. And that it would be Dr. Sayers.

“…I definitely overstepped, and I feel really bad,” Randall’s shaky, slightly teary voice suddenly cut through the air. “I feel really bad. It’s not my job to comment every time I see someone look sad, especially not when I am making a visit to my son’s hospital to visit my son, but the kid looked so sad and really tired. Like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders and nobody’s taking care of him. It made me think of that godawful day where I watched Jerry bleed out on the playground and I wasn’t able to help him cause that addict had his gun on Frank and I. That sense of helplessness just flared up because I was looking at another young kid who looked so broken. Frank’s broken right now too, but at least I know he’s getting help. This kid…he looked like he doesn’t have any help for himself…”

Grateful that shrubbery was obstructing his view of Randall Langdon, David covered his mouth and quietly moved away from the conversation. He felt like the biggest prick in the world. He had thought Frank’s father was analyzing him, but Randall had just been trying to talk through some personal triggers and he, David Martin, the biggest, most easily triggered prick on God’s green earth, had shoved the guy back into them and had caused the psychologist to have a breakdown.

I owe the guy an apology and then I’m writing myself up. David thought grimly as he moved back around the path the way he had come just in time to see Dr. Abbot come out, talk quietly to Randall, who was now finished his call and was now crying silently, and he stopped just short of them and sighed. Dr. Abbot and Randall immediately looked at him and David sighed, bracing for the worst.

“Doctor Langdon, I didn’t mean to trigger you,” David spoke apologetically. “For that I apologize and I’m going to put myself on report for it because my behavior was not what it should be...”

Randall, however, immediately ceased crying and gave him a concerned look, “Your behavior didn’t trigger me,” he replied in a shaky voice. “Your demeanor, your sadness, the fact that you look like you’ve got nobody taking care of you…it’s making me sad. It’s making me feel helpless like I did when Frank’s brother was killed. If anyone’s apologizing, it should be me. I’m not your therapist and I’m not even serving as a therapist when I’m here. I overstepped out of concern and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me or are you not the forgiving type? If you don’t want to, I completely get that.”

David shrugged, “I really don’t have anyone taking care of me right now and I’ve become a prick because I’m overwhelmed, so I’ll forgive you if you forgive me,” he replied quietly. “Um, my husband…he’s fallen out of remission, he’s back on chemo, he got fired, and we’re living in a temporary, LGBTQ+ -friendly shelter for a little while til we figure something else out. I’m also working double shifts with no hope of a pay increase, so it’s made me a little tired and crabby…”

“Jesus,” Randall muttered in a shocked voice, his eyes widening. “That is a lot. I’m sorry.”

Dr. Abbot suddenly looked intrigued because Randall had gotten David to open up without realizing it and David had opened up to a psychologist in a semi one-on-one setting without any hesitation.

David, meanwhile, nodded silently, feeling slightly more at ease around Randall now.

“Um, David, if you ever want someone to talk to about all that, I don’t mind offering an ear,” Randall offered softly, quickly fetching a card from his pocket and held it out to David, as he usually kept a few cards on hand for when he worked in the shelters. “My work number. You’re welcome to call me and cry and vent…whatever. And it’ll be a safe space…our conversations. Safe and private.”

Dr. Abbot immediately turned his head slightly away so David wouldn’t feel like he was being watched or feel pressured to accept the grace that was being offered. However, he could still see David out of the corner of his eye and could tell the young RN was seriously thinking about it.

After a moment, David silently took the offered card and slipped it in the pocket of his scrub pants next to his cookie, “I’ll think about it,” he promised softly. “Thank you. I should be getting back to work for now, though. Do you need anything before I go?”

“I’m just going to sit out here by myself and breathe for a bit before I go back to sitting with Frank, but thank you for asking,” Randall replied gently, offering David a kind smile. “My therapist advised me to take a time out from everything to do some self-care, so I’m doing that. You have yourself a good day, all right? Remember to take some time to give yourself a little grace during your day.”

David nodded and disappeared inside. Deciding to give Randall a moment to himself like he wanted and probably needed, Dr. Abbot excused himself back inside just in time to see David head back towards the medication/IV lockup. He lingered and watched as David returned shortly thereafter with an IV bag and stuff he needed to hook up a fresh IV. Their gazes met briefly before David offered a smile and moved off down the hallway towards the medical wing and Frank’s room to do his work.

“…Doctor Abbot, please report to Intake,” a voice suddenly spoke over the intercom.

Deeply confused, as he was hardly ever paged to Intake because that wasn’t his area of expertise unless someone needed a patient advocate, Dr. Abbot silently made his way to Intake.

When Dr. Abbot arrived, he was shocked to see Santos lingering at the desk with what looked like a volunteer application in her hands and a nervous expression on her face, “Doctor Santos?” he asked softly, giving her a curious look. “I thought you, McKay, and Whitaker…?”

“Dennis decided to stay at Trinity House for a while and help Lance with some stuff that Lance wanted to do after we ended our street team shift,” Santos explained nervously. “Lance had a small nap and he wanted to do things to make his and David's room more livable while they're there, but he was kinda feeling to weak to be out of bed without help, so Dennis offered to hang out with him for a while. McKay decided to hang out with them both, and I decided to bring this back via an Uber after filling it out. I’m a crap judge of character and I just realized that after today. Maybe…maybe doing something here would help me with that. I know I can be a prick sometimes, but I feel like maybe…maybe I can do good here. I asked for you because I don’t know anyone else who works here who might give me a chance…”

Dr. Abbot nodded as he took the application, “First of all, Doctor Santos, please give yourself some grace,” he replied gently. “You’re a better person than you make yourself out to be, but you’re not acknowledging that, so please start. Secondly, I think your reasons for wanting to volunteer here are noble and I’d love to help you find a placement here. This place can always use more volunteers. Let’s take your application and go talk to Amanda. She and I will help you get placed, okay?”

Grateful that Dr. Abbot was encouraging her desire to become a better person and doctor and offering her the grace to pursue things, like a volunteer position at Blue Mountain Wellness Center, that would help her achieve that goal, Santos nodded and silently followed Dr. Abbot off towards the center's administrative area to speak with Amanda.

Chapter Text

“Daddy!”

The sight of a happy looking Tanner waving to him on the computer screen while sitting in Dana’s lap made Frank’s heart melt. He was grateful that Dr. Abbot and David had helped him find the center’s computer area and had set up a Zoom call for him so he could talk to Dana and Tanner using a cheaper way than his cellphone.

Besides, after spending nearly three weeks in his official program and only being able to talk to Tanner on the phone, Frank missed seeing his son’s face.

Now that his nose was healed and the bruise on his eye was gone and his head bandages were gone, Frank had felt safe enough to ask about a Zoom call. He wasn’t ready for in-person visits with his kids by any means, as he knew it would overwhelm them and him, but he could manage Zoom. His kids, thanks to calls he had had with DCFS, were still at Dana's and his parents were allowed visitation and everyone seemed to be getting along so far, which was good. Unfortunately for Frank, his kids...at least Tanner...was slowly growing wise to the fact that things were not right in his world.

I am very, very sure Dana, and my parents are getting tired of telling Tanner I am always at work and I am also sure that Tanner is probably asking why he isn’t at home. Frank thought grimly to himself, as that is the excuse he and everyone had been using every time Tanner had asked where he was. Even at four, Tanner is smart enough to know he's not at the home he knows...but he doesn't know why he's not there. He's also smart enough to realize that Daddy can't possibly be at work all of the time...

“Daddy go home?” Tanner asked quietly, eyeing Frank with a sad expression on his face. “Wanna go home.”

Frank sighed, a solemn expression crossing his face as he suddenly realized that Tanner was asking him when he was coming home and that he wanted to go home, “Um, Tanner, buddy, I need to talk to you about when I’m gonna be able to see you again,” he spoke softly, giving Tanner a gentle look. “I’m in a hospital right now, buddy, because I’m sick and I’m hurt. I’m not going to be able to come home and be with you for a while, but…”

“Where Mama at?” Tanner asked softly, his eyes widening at the word ‘hospital.’

Frank suddenly stilled, unsure of what to say or do because he didn’t know how to tell the four-year-old his mother was dead and not coming back.

Fortunately for him, Dana noticed the pain in his expression and looked at Tanner gently, “Tanner, why don’t you go work on the picture you’ve been making for your dad?” she suggested gently. “And then in a little bit, we’ll make some cookies for the special dinner we’re having with your nana and pappa tonight, okay?”

Waving bye to Frank, Tanner quickly got off Dana’s lap and Frank sighed, silently thanking God that Tanner was so easy to distract.

“That’s not something I’m able to tackle yet,” he spoke in a grim voice. “I’m still waiting for the care team to figure out what’s wrong with my brain. I completed of the assessments a few days ago after doing a crapload of exercises in front of a panel. It took six hours in total over a few days and they spaced it out over a few days so I wouldn't get overwhelmed. Six freaking hours over a few days. And then I had to do some of the tests more than once because I panicked to the point where I held Ollie on my lap in the corner for hours. I freaking panicked like a little kid and they had to shut the appointment down and reschedule things for other days. That took time to do, though, cause they have other people to see, so I've done a lot of waiting...and struggling. During the actual tests, though, I felt like I was slogging through med-school study sessions again. Once each bit was over, I went back to bed and didn’t wake up until the next morning, I was so exhausted. The results appointment should be end of this week or next week. My parents want to be there, but Christ…I don’t even wanna think about it right now. Any of it.”

“Honey, it’s gonna help you in the long run,” Dana replied gently. “You know that. All of this will.”

Frank sighed, “Well, at least I can look in the mirror when I do my daily affirmations without feeling ashamed of how I look now,” he spoke in a tired voice. “They have me doing mirror affirmations every day and it was hard enough to look because all I saw was my broken nose and my black eye. I at least look sub-human now.”

“I think you look great, personally,” Dana spoke warmly, offering a smile. “Just tired.”

Frank exhaled softly, “The nights are the worst cause I’m starting to get a few nightmares that keep me awake,” he replied grimly. “They only have two nurses on call at night too, plus some grouchy old Security guy. At least I’m able to walk to the bathroom by myself now. It’s hard, but I do it…”

“Are you allowed to be doing that unsupervised?” Dana asked in a concerned voice, frowning at him worriedly.

Frank scoffed at Dana’s overprotectiveness, “That’s part of the routine the day nurse and I have now,” he replied softly. “He parks the chair at the door, and I walk to it by myself before we go to breakfast. No further. It’s supposed to build stamina. I’m hoping to eventually be able to be without the chair, but I can at least get to the door. I probably should have someone watch me go to the bathroom, but…they are so incredibly understaffed here. I’m lucky to be able to get help with sponge baths and dressing and food. It’s worse than it is at the hospital. I get help with meals, sponge baths, eating, and then I'm on my own for most of the day unless I need help taking Oliver outside, which I cannot do on my own yet because I still need my chair. Most days after meals and vitals, which are once every hour, I just sit in my room or the common room and read or do a word search with Ollie at my side because the staff doesn't like me in bed all day anymore...they like me doing something that keeps my brain active...even if that something doesn't involve other people. I've had my hair done a couple times, but that...that's been so exhausting lately. I just like keeping to myself and books. People...people are freaking me out and I don't know why, Dana. I used to work around people all the time. I don't get why I'm so anti-people now....”