Chapter Text
Arms, strong and stable in a way that Robby would reminisce on once the moment had become a memory, held him as they stood in the stairwell. A flight above them were plenty of their colleagues, watching the fourth of July fireworks. Below them was the rest of the hospital's night shift, continuing on as normal.
Robby's arms remained at his sides. He would blame the awkward angle of the embrace he'd found himself in, but hindsight would tell him he could have easily bent his arms and maneuvered them to return the affection — return the support he had been unable to offer prior. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, bearing the wait of a thousand sentiments unshared.
"I know I have no right to your thoughts or whatever's going on right now, but I'm here if you do want to talk." Langdon's words traveled the short distance to Robby's ears and settled somewhere deep in his chest. Robby remained silent, though he was unable to resist the comfort of sinking into Langdon's warmth as he folded his face into the younger man's neck. This was not the first time the affectionate young man had drawn Robby into his hold, but it was certainly the first time he was doing so without cajoling Robby into returning the gesture.
What must it mean that the one man he'd so earnestly tried to push out of his life and yet keep within reach was attempting to pull his fraying edges together without even realizing it?
Who else would be brave — or stupid, Robby might argue — enough to do this?
How long had they stood there, unmoving and untouched by the rest of the world?
An hour?
A minute?
A second?
Robby didn't know the answer, but it felt both far too long and intimate and yet not enough at all.
"Take care, Dr. Robby," Langdon said once Robby finally gathered his wits enough and pulled away. Their eyes met and Langdon patted him on the shoulder once, not waiting for a response as he began the trek down without once glancing back at Robby.
It would be the last Robby saw of him until returning from his sabbatical, and it would be even longer before they were in any close proximity to each other again for the possibility of another embrace.
-
Three months was both too long and not long enough, Robby couldn't help but think as he pulled up to PTMC. His first shift back was in two days, but he'd wanted to meet Jack first and catch up outside of work before hopping right back into the thick of it.
He debated waiting in the parking lot or heading inside, but ultimately decided there would be no harm in a few people seeing him before his official return. If anything, it would at least put a stop to the rumor that he wasn't planning on returning and had actually found a different ED to lead. Jack had been particularly amused when he'd mentioned it, which Robby assumed meant he probably had a hand in propagating it.
Knowing Jack, he probably got a kick out of speculating on Robby's non-existent desire to move to an entirely different hospital.
Jack and he stood on the rooftop not even half an hour later, morning sun above them and a comfortable silence between them.
"It's good to have you back, brother." Even without looking, Robby knew Jack had his eyes closed and face turned up.
"I'd say good to be back," said Robby with a huff, "but I wouldn't want to jinx myself." It was partially a lie. Robby was happy to be home. Admittedly, something had eased within him as soon as he'd gotten sight of PTMC.
His friend turned to him, lips curved in a genuine smile and eyes filled with such fondness it made something within Robby ache. "Everyone's been looking forward to your return."
"Anything I should watch out for tomorrow?" He asked in lieu of acknowledging the sweet sentiment. "Any news you've been holding back?"
The second it took for the question to sink in was enough time for Robby to recognize that Jack was about to tell him something he probably wouldn't like. Dr. Alex Parker, the licensed psychiatrist that Robby had seen a total of one time at Jack's behest several years ago, probably would have told Robby that he shouldn't constantly expect the worst, and that it was all just some response to trauma or something.
His brows furrowed, though he bit his tongue from immediately prodding.
"Mohan and Langdon are on the night shift now," said Jack, looking back out and away from Robby. "Mohan only for two more nights and Langdon more or less permanently."
"What?"
Jack shrugged. "Started when Langdon was working a double and he and Shen bonded over one of the busier night shifts. Those two have become inseparable, much to everyone's dismay, and are even planning matching Halloween costumes last I heard." For all of Jack's calm delivery, it was evident to Robby how amusing the other man actually found the entire situation.
Since when had Shen and Langdon been friends to the point of pulling shit like matching costumes? Since Robby's sabbatical, apparently.
That was a good thing, right? It meant Jack was able to actually keep an eye on Langdon, and from what he's heard (which was practically nothing now that he thought about it), Langdon's remained clean since his return to The Pitt.
And yet Robby was still confused. What had even brought that on?
"Mohan isn't likely to stay on nights, so you and Al-Hashimi will have her back in no time."
Robby couldn't help himself from asking, "And Frank—Langdon? He's fully switched to nights?"
"Pretty much," said Jack with a nod, "barring the occasional swap or double."
"I thought he preferred days because it's easier to keep similar hours with his family."
"He requested the change," Jack replied, as if that was all there was to it.
And maybe it was. Maybe Frank just preferred the night shift now. Maybe circumstances had changed and that was a reasonable change. Maybe it was for the best.
Before he could pose another question, Jack added, "You should also know…" And this time, Robby really did brace for bad news. "He's requested my recommendation. And for me to be listed as a reference for his application."
Robby frowned. "What?" Something cold and uncomfortable twisted in his stomach at the news.
"Dr. Langdon." Jack said, as if Robby needed more than the 'he' that Jack had mentioned. Nevermind that they were already talking about him. "Frank. He's applying for an Attending position and a fellowship over at Presby…and Mercy." Unnecessarily (or perhaps predicting the clarification Robby would have asked), Jack added, "for after his residency here."
"What?"
Their gazes locked, and Robby felt nauseous when Jack replied, "Said something about thinking it would be for the best if he took himself out of your ER." Not waiting for a response, Jack continued, "He seems to have planned everything out. I asked about the fellowship he'd been interested in before he went to rehab. I even offered to write a recommendation for it instead, but he declined and said it might not be a good idea to remain a part of your ER."
Oh.
"Funny, you know," murmured Jack, finally looking away from Robby again, "for all that I've gotten used to this new Langdon who's far more careful and level-headed, I never pegged him to be the type to run."
Because he wasn't.
There was a joke in there about the fact that Frank had once been a runner, having done track in high school and university. The only thing was…Frank was a runner but when it came to his personality, that was the last thing he was.
Frank had always been stubborn and willing to prove himself. He never backed down from a challenge and rarely let anything go without a fight. It was evident in the way he treated his recovery. And how he navigated that first shift back. And the attempt at apologizing.
Robby inhaled deeply, aching in a way that had nothing to do with his time on the road.
It was Robby that had always run; forever the frightened feral fucker that bit the hands of those that ever attempted to care for him. He ran from commitment. He ran from mandated therapy. He ran from himself.
"And all the things he said," continued Jack, turning around so they could head back in, "they didn't seem like his words."
Because they weren't.
Frank never called The Pitt Robby's. It had always been theirs.
Everyone joked about Frank being his heir, but up until Pittfest, it was pretty much true. Even Robby had joked about it.
For the years Frank had been at Robby's side, the ER had been theirs in a way similar to Robby and Jack, but also different. Robby and Jack had been there long enough to have become part of the ED's very foundations, while Frank had been beginning to lay down roots, growing and flourishing to the point of filling Robby with a sense of hope for the future.
And maybe that had been part of the problem. Frank may have put Robby on a pedestal for being his Attending and mentor, but Robby had done the same thing in pinning his every hope and vision for the future on Frank. It had reached a point where attempting to pull everything back and away from him when he returned might just have damaged things beyond repair.
So it was no longer their ED.
It was Robby's.
And they were definitely not Frank's words.
They were his. He and Jack knew that without having to say it out loud.