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Frank stuck a hand through the doors, pausing them in their trajectory just before they could snap shut and the elevator could slide away. He stepped inside, immediately pausing upon seeing the other occupant.
Robby glanced over, then held his stare in a distant and pissed off fashion before ducking to fix his trauma gown.
Frank sighed internally. As badly as he wanted to talk to Robby, to clear the air, he could feel the leave me alone energy radiating off Robby, and it wasn’t doing wonders for his confidence.
Frank wanted that conversation. But he wanted it to go well, however selfish that may be. He wanted Robby’s forgiveness, had spent 30 long, lonely days in rehab with only the walls and art therapy for company, imagining this moment, how it’d play out, the look on Robby’s face, his tone.
The ten months he had off had just been an extension of that time in rehab. Different walls, same question echoing around an empty apartment, Abby and the kids gone. Not even the goddamn dog left for company.
What else was he meant to do? After all, Frank was a weak man. He craved Robby’s attention like a man in a desert craved water. He wanted to make his mentor proud. He wanted to follow in his footsteps, nail the fellowship and become Robby’s equal, have the man actually admit they were friends.
But he’d fucked it up. He fucked it all up. And now he was a lonely man on triage island and the mentor who’d once slapped him on the back, guided his shoulders, smiled reassuringly, could hardly look at him.
That was the part Frank hated the most.
Robby’s face. God. Robby’s face. Every time he made the mistake of looking in Frank’s direction he looked sick. Like he was staring at a mistake, something he used to be familiar with with. Maybe someone he used to know. Frank disgusted him.
And maybe Frank was a coward. When Robby told him to go to triage, his heart had dropped to his shoes. Seeing that look on his face. But when the hours began to pass by, and he realised Robby couldn’t even share a room with him, Frank found refuge in triage island. The sea of the hallway to the Pitt had never felt so vast. And Frank could swim. But he wanted a life preserver. For someone to help him cross. Was that so much to ask?
Then he’d been asked to help with an incoming trauma, via heli. So he’d rushed for the elevator, hoping perhaps Al-Hashimi would be there. He seemed to have, somehow, made a half-decent impression. Her reminder Robby would be gone, and she’d be his boss, echoed in his ears.
Robby would have to wait. Frank had waited ten months already. Ten months of no call. Of wondering how badly he’d fucked it all up. If he’d ever work in medicine again. If he’d ever work under Robby again.
Frank could wait three more months. Give Robby time and space on the open road and rebuild their relationship from there. Prove to him he’d changed. He had changed.
Then he stepped in the elevator doors. And saw the man he’d been avoiding.
They stared at the opposite wall in silence. Frank focused on that stomach nauseating feeling of the elevator climbing. Praying the doors would open soon, and with them a light to ease up on the awkwardness. The silence was stifling.
Frank chanced a glance at Robby out the corner of his eye, finding him staring stoutly ahead, the only sign Robby shared the awkwardness Frank felt in his hand, plucking at the side of his trauma gown.
He took a deep breath. In for four through his nose, holding for five and began to release slowly through his mouth for six. Air gently hissing out, his body forcing itself to relax, when-
BANG!
The elevator jolted in its journey, sending the two occupants flying forwards towards the harsh wall.
Frank scrabbled for purchase against the smooth metal interior in time for the elevator to let out an ungodly screech and begin rapidly descending.
Robby let out a startled shout from next to him as Frank’s fingers latched on to his own trauma gown, turning to see his own panic mirrored in Robby’s eyes.
Almost as soon as it started, the elevator stopped. Then juddered down what felt like another floor, before screeching to a halt. The lights flickered, once, twice then thankfully stayed on.
Frank heaved in a few heavy breaths, his head ducked between his shoulder blades, palms flat against the wall in front of him.
“You alright?” Robby asked gruffly, standing with a grimace, one hand going to his lower back, the other to push the hair from his forehead.
Frank nodded silently.
Robby glanced around the interior of the metal box, as though the answer to the problem would be painted on the walls.
Frank watched warily, standing up from his position and leaning against the wall of the elevator with a grumble. “Do you think it’ll start moving again?”
“I hope not.” Robby replied, eyes on the row of buttons by the doors. He pressed a few, testingly. But the elevator remained stubbornly still. He let out a long sigh. Turning to the Emergency button, pressing it with the side of a balled up fist. The button moved and stayed pressed in, presumably to signal help had been called for. There was no alarm, no ringing of a phone to connect to an operator. Just silence.
The number to the right of the door read 2 in an ominous red glow, but Frank wasn’t sure if it was to be trusted.
Robby fished around in his cargos next, tapping at his phone repeatedly, then tossing it back into his pocket with a loud groan. Frank did the same. No Signal popped up in the corner of his screen, mockingly.
“What… what happens now?” Frank asked.
“I don’t know.” Robby replied. Still staring at the metal doors, seemingly trying to will them open.
“The patient?” Frank glanced upwards, at the spot where the helicopter would likely be landing.
“If there’s nobody to greet the paramedics, they’ll take the patient down to the ER and someone will figure out we’re stuck.”
Frank nodded glumly, fidgeting with his gown. “So we just… what wait?”
Robby turned at that, expression still cold and flat. “Unless you have any other ideas?” He waved his hands around in the air.
Frank looked down at the floor.
There was a long silence.
“Okay. Look.” Frank started, looking up at Robby with a resolute expression. “I know you’ve been avoiding me all day.”
“I haven’t been-“ Robby tried.
“You have. And I don’t blame you. I’d avoid me too.” Frank let out a hollow laugh, eyes darting from Robby’s face twisted in an awkward grimace. “But now we’re stuck here. Together. And it feels like a sign. Okay? So. I just. I have to say this okay let me say it.”
Frank took a deep breath, looking back at Robby’s face. “I’m sorry. I betrayed your trust. I betrayed our patients’ trust. And.” He felt his eyebrows scrunch together, his words almost tripping over one another as he rushed to get his thoughts out. “I’m really fucking sorry. It’ll never happen again. I swear.”
He stared as Robby heaved in a breath, glancing to the side and muttering a ”Fuck me” under his breath to the doors. He took a long moment to compose himself.
The only sounds in the elevator were Frank’s harsh breaths, as he heaved in air that felt as though it was running out. The metal confinements of the elevator replacing the oxygen with the carbon dioxide on every exhale. But he knew that was not the case. He was a goddamn doctor. Yet, every breath felt like a fight for air.
Robby sighed angrily, oblivious. He shook his head a few times, staring at the floor. He swept one large gloved hand over his face, before looking back up at Frank with those tired, empty eyes.
“I’m really glad that you got the help that you need.” Robby’s tone was flat. “But I don’t know if I want you working in my ER.” He let out a short, hollow laugh. “You stole drugs Frank. Fucking.” Robby turned, one hand against the wall, sucking in a deep breath. “I can’t do this.”
Frank felt his knees tremble with the weight of holding his frame up. He looked away, unable to bear the disappointment in Robby’s eyes. Eyes which had once looked at him with so much pride, trust. Trust which was gone. Snapped and tossed like it had never existed.
Frank let himself crumble, his legs slowly dropping out from under him as his ass hit the cold metal of the floor. His knees tucked in to his chest, back against the wall, Frank looked up at Robby, still hunched over by the buttons.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated uselessly. “I thought rehab would fix it.” Frank went on, hands on his knees, picking at his scrubs.
Robby scoffed, but without heat. Just a sound of exhaustion. He wiped his hand down his face again, turning to face Frank fully. Looking down on him crumpled in a pathetic ball in the corner.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Robby asked, staring at a point above Frank’s head. “Those long ten months I kept asking myself. Why wouldn’t you come to me?” Robby pleaded, almost not even directed at Frank.
“I don’t know.” Frank’s head dipped low, forehead resting on his knees as his hands came up and grasped at his hair, digging around for something to anchor on. Something to pull him out of the goddamn elevator and pull him back in time a year. “I don’t know. I- fuck Robby.” He let out a choked out gasp. “I wish every fucking day I could go back and change it.”
He ripped his head up from his knees, eyes wild as they caught Robby’s permanently red-rimmed ones. “You don’t think I spent every waking second regretting my decisions?! Wishing I’d have been stronger.” Frank let out a gasp, eyes roving around the four metal walls. The walls seemed to warp and flutter, resembling more of a cage keeping creature trapped in, than a transportation system.
“I just want to be a fucking doctor.” Frank blinked harshly, a tear still slipping by his weak defences and dropping with a splat on his knee.
Robby turned his head to face the doors again. His voice choked. “I trusted you Frank.” He shook his head a few times, like he was trying to shake Frank out. But it was impossible. The fucking elevator had them both, tied down and forced to spill their guts in a stupid box that was maybe on the second floor, instead of helping a desperate patient.
Frank closed his eyes, fingers tugging into his hair as choked out gasps forced their way out his throat. It was rehab all over again. Him and those four walls. A room bare of anything bar a bed, in case he went crazy and tried to take the easy way out.
He was in the hospital. He tugged his hair harder. The Pitt, not rehab. He wasn’t back there, twisting and turning. Sweating through the sheets. Praying for a nurse to come in and tell him Robby was on the phone.
He heaved desperately in through his mouth, the air didn’t seem to reach.
A heavy hand pressed down on his shoulder, sending a jolt through his body.
“Breathe Frank.” Low timbre, tired and indescribably Robby.
Another large hand reached up, gently untangling his hand from his hair, tucking it under Frank’s chin and close to his chest, held there by his knees.
As the hand went back to grasp for Frank’s other wrist, he sucked in a desperate breath, head lifting up and pressing back against the metal of the wall.
“There you go.” Robby lowered Frank’s hand to tuck in beside his other one, then took his own arm back. Frank felt the loss strongly but it was softened by the warm palm still remaining steady on his shoulder. Heat that seeped through the layers of trauma gown and scrubs. Something so real. So human.
Frank chanced a glance over to see Robby sat on his left, his legs awkwardly sprawled in front of him, back resting against the wall. Robby had removed his gloves at some point, taking another layer away between them. It felt symbolic, like he wasn’t sickened by Frank as much.
Frank closed his eyes. The hand on his shoulder tightened. “Just keep breathing, nice and steady.” Robby murmured, shifting to assumingly get comfy on the unforgiving floor. “That’s it.”
Frank took one final breath before moving to sit more upright, accidentally knocking the hand off his shoulder in the process. He watched as Robby let the hand fall, wishing he could reach for it. Reach back into the moment and let it never end. The ceasefire his meltdown had caused.
And wasn’t he a hypocrite. ”I’m not the one talking to cartoon animals!” The memory through his mind. He’d spent ten months sorely regretting the words that left his mouth that day. Wishing he could go back and take it all back. Wishing he hadn’t been one of those horrible additions to Robby’s already shitty day.
And yet, he couldn’t. So he was sat on the floor of a broken elevator. His mentor sitting awkwardly next to him, pretending like this wasn’t all a major fucking mess.
Frank looked down at his hands and busied himself with peeling the gloves from his fingers. Resolutely not thinking about the sweat bunched up inside there. Days of lying on a wet mattress, sweating from places even as a doctor he didn’t know was possible.
“Claustrophobic?” Robby asked, staring back off into the distance.
“N-no.” Frank cleared his throat, abruptly embarrassed by the situation. God. He didn’t think he had space for embarrassment anymore. Not after everyone he worked with had heard news of his blowout argument with Robby. Of his dismissal and where he’d spent his time. But apparently he was. “I never used to be.”
Robby turned, his head tilted slightly to the side as he looked Frank in the eyes. Right in the eyes. Not around, glancing away. Just that stare that said I’m listening.
“It’s just, uh, rehab. I spent a lot of time in a small room going crazy and this,” Frank waved a hand around in the air, “just… you know, brings some things back.”
Robby hummed, his eyes suddenly sad. “I’m sure we’ll be out soon.”
Frank dropped the pair of gloves he was fiddling with onto the floor and sighed. “Yeah.”
There was a moment where neither of them seemed to know what to say or do.
“I’m sorry I never visited.”
Frank’s head jerked up, turning to meet Robby’s sincere eyes.
“In rehab.” Robby continued. “I should’ve come.”
Frank stared.
“I don’t think you need to be the one apologising here Robby.”
“I do, Frank.” Robby buried his head in his hands and sighed. He looked back up, pulling at the front of his trauma gown until it ripped. He balled it up with one fist and tossed it to the opposite corner of the elevator where it lay unused by the doors and buttons.
Frank slowly began pulling at his own gown, unable to tear his eyes off Robby.
“I was so mad. At you, yes. But at myself too.” Robby shook his head angrily. “You were a doctor working under me for years, you were my resident, my-“ He cut himself off and looked Frank in the eyes. “My friend Frank. My fucking friend. And an intern walked in on her first day and saw what was in front of me for months. But I didn’t see the signs.”
Frank shook his head, ripping his gown off and pushing it away. “No. It’s not your fault Robby. I was hiding it.”
Robby laughed, the sound void of joy. “I’m the Chief Attending of an ER and I couldn’t see the signs of a benzos addict.”
Frank suddenly reached forward, his fingers curling around Robby’s forearm. He dug them into the meat of Robby’s arm with more force than necessary, leaning forward into his space to make eye contact. “Robby, that’s not your fault. I’m the one who fucked up. I- I’m the one. The one who stole the meds. Please.”
“Still. You deserved- better. Support.”
Frank just looked at him blankly. “It’s fine.” He offered.
Robby looked awkward when he craned his neck back to see Frank. “Rehab, it was… it was okay though, right?”
Frank uncurled his fingers from Robby’s arm, the effort of peeling them from Robby’s skin, more forceful than it should’ve been. He let his arm hover awkwardly in the space. “It. Uh. Helped. I guess.”
Robby nodded stiffly. “And after? You’ve been… okay? Yes?”
“I haven’t fucking relapsed.” Frank huffed.
“I wasn’t implying that.” Robby said quickly. “But sobriety is an ongoing process and I know it can be tough.” Frank fought down the instinctive ”you don’t know! and nodded.
“Abby…” Robby started, looking out of his depth. “Things are okay with her and your recovery?”
Frank paused, licking at his chapped lips. “She uh, well.” He snorted humourlessly. “She left. With the kids.”
“What?!” Robby leaned back, eyes wide.
“Yeah.” Frank leaned back too, hand dropping uselessly to his side. “Couldn’t take it. Having an addict for a husband.”
“Jesus Frank. I- I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Frank brushed him off instantly. “It’s my fault. I don’t blame her. But, yeah. We’re getting a divorce.”
“Fucking hell.” Robby breathed.
“I made a lot of mistakes. Said a lot of shit. To her. To you.” Robby waved him off.
“I think we’ve had enough apologies.”
Frank shook his head, carrying on vehemently. “I shouldn’t have said what I did, in the ambulance bay. You didn’t deserve my anger. You were just there.”
Robby stared at him for a long moment “Look at us. What a fucking pair we make.” He rubbed at his red eyes, causing Frank to notice his own were suspiciously itchy.
“Yeah.” Frank replied dryly. “I guess we do.”
Robby breathed. In, hold, out. Noisily. Frank found himself subconsciously following. The slow breaths helped but didn’t stop the tremor in his fingers.
“You’re a good doctor Frank.” Robby started, his voice unusually tentative. “And this won’t define you. But I-,” he paused, searching for the words. “Every time I look at you, I see that moment in the lockers. And I feel so betrayed. I was rooting for you Frank.”
Frank felt his eyes well up again. He’d discovered quickly into his break from the hospital there was a limitless amount of tears in his eyes. Angry tears, sad tears, tired tears - it didn’t matter. His body always managed to produce a few more.
“I just need some time. To get acquainted with this, this… new normal.”
“The new normal where I piss in cups in front of you?” Frank asked dryly.
“Well. It won’t be me.” Robby reminded him. “I’m sure Al-Hashimi will be a lovely audience though.”
Frank turned, slightly horrified, as he realised what his new reality would soon become.
“I’m sure Dana would do it if you ask nicely.” Robby went on, humour in his voice. And god, Frank had missed that. The lightness in the air. The casual bantering. He missed it like an organ. It was like his insides had been swirling around with a piece gone.
“Where’re you going?” Frank asked timidly. “On your sabbatical.” He clarified at Robby’s open stare.
“I don’t know.” Robby looked a little unsure. “Wherever the open road takes me I guess. Somewhere quiet hopefully.”
Frank laughed, briefly but real. The idea of Robby and quiet was frankly absurd. “Yeah, sure man.”
Robby’s mouth tilted upwards in the corner. Not a smile, but a hint.
A loud ring cut through the silence. Followed by a sharp buzz. “Operator. Are you trapped in the elevator?”
Robby stood sharply, pushing himself off the floor with his hands and grimacing at the click in his knees. He stumbled over to the buttons with the gait of someone who’s legs hadn’t quite woken up yet. “Yes. We’re stuck - two of us.”
“Alright.” The operator’s voice was calm. “What number is displayed on the screen.”
“Two.” Robby leaned closer to the buttons, as though that would speed up the process.
“I see. Hang tight for a moment. The maintenance team is on their way to you.” Then a click sounded and the operator seemingly disconnected.
Frank and Robby simply stared at each other for a moment. Then Frank sighed, pushed his palms down flat against the floor and stood. He grunted at the sharp pain in his back, breathing through it. When he looked up, he saw Robby’s blank expression for a moment before he looked back at the doors.
“Sounds like the cavalry’s here.” Robby said, prompted by loud clinking outside the door.
Frank just nodded.
Someone knocked on the wall. “You in here?”
“We are!” Robby called back.
Another loud thunk. Then someone grunting. And the sound of a crowbar being wedged into the doors to pry them open.
Robby stepped back, joining Frank back by the far side of the elevator. Their shoulders brushed for a second. Robby didn’t instantly pull to the other side.
The doors were yanked open, the light was blinding.
Frank lifted one hand to cover his eyes while he adjusted. For so long it had just been him, Robby and the four walls of their metal box. The outside world felt distant… like it couldn’t affect them inside the elevator. Now, it felt real again. Frank wasn’t sure he wanted it to.
“You guys alright?” The maintenance tech asked, holding the doors open.
“We’re fine, thank you.” Robby replied. He stepped forward, turning to the side to squeeze his broad shoulders through the gap and looking back over his shoulder at Frank, who was still standing in his corner.
Robby looked at him for a long, contemplative moment before tilting his head invitingly.
Frank stumbled forward like his legs were made of led, almost toppling into Robby as he crossed the threshold back onto hospital floor.
Robby caught him with one warm hand on his sternum, gently pushing him upright and staying until Frank was standing of his own accord.
Robby thanked the tech again, and Frank felt his own mouth mumble something similar.
“Think we’ll take the stairs this time.” Robby smirked a little, angling towards the stairwell.
“Y-yeah.” Frank nodded, falling into step behind him.
It was only a short flight down to the pitt. Less than a minute before they were standing in front of the doors to the ER.
Robby paused, his frame blocking the windows and whatever chaos lay inside. He turned back to Frank, eyes pausing on his face.
He took a deep breath in, clenching and unclenching his hands by his sides. “I can’t forgive you yet Frank. But I will. Don’t stop-,” He paused for a moment. “You do good work here. We’ll figure it out later.” With that, Robby pushed the doors open and the noise immediately drowned out any thoughts Frank could dream of having.
With great effort, he unstuck his feet from the floor and followed Robby in, trying to act normal, as though the last hour hadn’t occurred.
Robby beelined for the nurses station, Frank trailing behind.
“Oho!” Abbot called out, wearing a scrub top and a pair of fatigues. “Finally decided to come help out?”
Robby patted him on the shoulder. “Just taking out lunch break.”
Abbot’s eyes slid over Robby’s shoulder to Frank, looking him up and down. Then, he stepped around Robby and gave Frank a slap on the back. “Good to have you back Langdon. The guys in trauma one could use an assist.”
Frank looked questioningly at Robby who just nodded, a slightly more present look in his eyes.
Frank swallowed, and nodded, hand already snapping out to the sanitizer station next to him like it was second nature. He was a doctor after all.