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Dennis’ hands are on him before Frank can blink, one hand low and possessive against the small of his back, the heat of it seeping through the thin fabric of his scrub top, the other moving to his shoulder, reaching up and squeezing Frank’s shoulder as Dennis moved behind him, barely giving Frank space to breath while they continued to work on the patient. Frank did his best to ignore the hard set of Dennis’ jaw, the sharp look in those too-big blue eyes.
Robby wasn’t even in the room, and Frank still felt that same unconscious need to perform, knowing every move he was making was being broken down, dissected and reviewed by the man who had become Frank’s replacement.
Once upon a time, it was thought Frank was Robby’s heir; now, everyone knew Dennis was.
It was a hard truth, a bitter pill Frank had learned to swallow over time, to live with. The prince to Robby’s kingdom, reminding Frank of Robby a little bit more every day, but Frank carried on under the heavy weight of it all. “He’s stable.”
“Let’s get him up to OR.”
Garcia shot Frank a nod, her eyes sliding to where Dennis was standing next to Frank before she followed the gurney out of the room. She was starting to see it too.
Frank shot a smile at Javadi, while they disposed of their smocks and gloves, before holding out a fist to her. “Solid work, Doctor J.”
Her small hand bumped against his. “Not bad yourself.” Joy let out a snort but didn’t say anything more than that. Frank didn’t hold out a fist for Joy, but the pair shared a look, both knowing they did good work.
It had become an unspoken truth of the Pitt that, while no longer the heir, Frank was a great teacher, adopting residents and med students alike, steady and patient. Maybe it was the fact that he had children of his own, or maybe it was the sobriety, but Frank had been a good teacher even before then.
He waited until Javaid and Joy had left the room before he turned to Dennis, who was once again watching Frank with a gaze that defied the young resident’s age.
“Do you need something, Whitaker?”
Dennis shook his head. “Just wanted to say good work, Langdon.”
“There was a time you called me Doctor Langdon.”
Frank had no idea why he needed to bring that up, a subtle reminder of their differences, of their ages, of the gap between them. It was mean and small, and Frank felt no better for it.
“There was,” Dennis smirked. “Would you like me to call you that again?”
Frank resisted sighing, knowing there was no point in saying yes, the title feeling more and more like a mockery as the days went by. Maybe his therapist was right, maybe it was time to finally leave, to apply to a fellowship or two that would get him away from the place that consumed so much of his life.
Help himself destroy so much of his life.
“Langdon.” Robby poked his head into the room, his easy expression hardening slightly at the sight of Frank and Dennis, his eyes skimming over Frank to land on Dennis. His brows drew together.
“Is there a problem?”
Frank all but rolled his eyes. Of course, Robby would assume Frank would be causing a problem. It had been two months since Robby returned from his sabbatical, and while things had begun to thaw between them, apparently, the suspicion would always remain.
Frank missed the way Dennis’s posture changed, returning to the man who watched him work just minutes ago, standing so close to Frank that the taller man could almost feel the heat of him.
“No problem,” Dennis assured.
Frank needed to get out, to put distance between himself and whatever was happening. “Did you need something Dr. Robby, or is it pee in the cup time?”
Months ago, Frank would have been mortified, deeply ashamed of the drug testing; now it was a stark reminder of his reality. He watched with tired eyes as Robby’s expression softened into something that almost looked apologetic.
“Pee in the cup time.”
“Yeah,” Frank ran his fingers through his hair, “lets get this over with.”
Robby nodded, stepping aside, letting Frank pass him before Robby fell in step next to Frank, one broad and calloused hand reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. Frank didn’t shake it off.
Dennis watched Frank move, shift through the Pitt, eyes down, not taking space any more than he was allowed, occasionally joking and smiling with Mel, Javadi, or Joy, encouraging their latest batch of meds students, instructing Ogilivie with a steady hand and more patience than Dennis could ever have for the man.
“You’re staring again.” Trinity pointed out.
Dennis didn’t deny it.
“What?” She demanded lightly. “You afraid now that he and Langdon are not actively at each other’s throats, he’s going to go back to being Robby’s golden boy again?”
The thought of it nearly made Dennis laugh. “No.”
That was the last thing Dennis was worried about as the days went by, and the ice between Robby and Frank continued to thaw under careful words and careful patience. It was clear Robby would never fully forgive Frank or trust him, but something had shifted in Robby during his sabbatical.
It took Robby less than a week of being back to see that something had shifted in Whitaker as well. Dennis couldn’t remember what it was exactly, in the days after Robby left, that drew his attention to Frank. To start watching the senior resident with careful observation.
They had found a rhythm in those three months, quietly working together, not forcing things with pointless small talk or pretending to be anything but perfectly aware of exactly who and what they were to each other, the fallen son and the anointed one, both learning to live under the shadow of Robby’s presence.
Then one day, he woke up, and it was more.
Dennis had found himself watching Frank, standing by his side, working on the same patients, never letting the older man truly out of his reach, littering the man with little praises, he knew Frank no longer thought himself worthy of, enjoying the slight tinge of pink that would dust his cheeks, or the way he would try to brush off the words with flustered words. Little words turned into little touches, a hand on his back as Dennis brushed past, standing close enough, their shoulder brushes, moving around Frank as if it was his right. Like Frank was his.
Dennis watched as Olgivie tried his best to catch Frank's attention, the way Shen and Crus would banter with Frank, earning sharp wit and sharper smiles, the man glowing as they traded playful insults, and he never once let them get close, not truly.
Robby’s return was an unspoken challenge, the king returning for this throne, for everything that belonged to him. Frank, though, was no longer his. Robby had cast him aside, banishing him with righteous ire and cold indifference. Frank belonged to Dennis now. He knew Robby wasn’t blind, could see the change. Dennis watched as the bearded man’s lips would thin, his expression draw tight, and Robby was suddenly checking in with Frank more, touching Frank more.
Dennis saw it all.
“Hey, Whitaker, you doing okay?”
“Long night, what’s up?” Dennis dismissed, turning to look at Frank, only to be greeted by blue eyes laced with concern.
“Nothing, just wanted to check in with you.” Dennis enjoyed the curl of satisfaction that burned low in his stomach at Frank willingly checking in on him. “You and Robby seem…I guess I’m just asking if everything is okay between you?”
Dennis visibly softened at the genuine concern in Frank’s voice. God, Frank was good, so good, too good.
Frank would be good for him.
“We’re fine, Langdon,” he assured, bumping his shoulder against Frank’s, and smiling at the man. He was still smiling when he turned to look at Robby, who was openly observing them with a thoughtful frown and his arms crossed over his chest.
Dennis let his smile turn sharp and predatory, all teeth and bite, bloody and satisfied with the blood of Frank’s goodness.
Dennis was the heir to the Pitt now, and he was taking what was his.