Archive of Our Own

1. DO: Play it cool.

Frank knows that something is off when he wakes up to a kiss on the head. He hasn’t woken up this way in years, even way before the divorce. He and Abby were never really affectionate like that, truthfully.

Frank is struggling to wake up, feeling especially tired after a brutal shift yesterday that ended in a rough fight between him and Robby afterwards in the ambulance bay. Robby has been better recently, no thanks to his sabbatical, which he returned from five months ago. He’s just been in a good mood these last several weeks, enough so that he’s snapping less at work. But last night, Frank made a risky call to help a patient, and it worked, but Robby still chewed him out for it after.

And then Frank had pushed back, and the whole thing had just gotten very… personal. Frank had said something about Robby’s sabbatical, Robby had told Frank that he would never understand the pressure that’s on him, and then Frank had basically told Robby that he could probably do his job better than him. Which was a shitty thing to say, Frank realizes now. And then Robby had told Frank he couldn’t even last a day in his shoes, and then he’d stormed off before Frank could respond.

“Baby, time to wake up,” a soft voice says.

A gentle hand shakes Frank’s shoulder. Frank isn’t sure what’s going on, but this voice, this person, is treating him with so much care. They must really love him. Frank can’t think of anyone who would be this gentle and caring with him except for Mel. And Mel wouldn’t be kissing his head and waking him up. That’s not exactly a stage that they’ve gotten to in their friendship yet.  

“Mmmmrrph,” Frank groans. Shit, he’s so tired. He hasn’t been this tired since the early days of returning to the hospital after rehab.

“We have to leave for the hospital in a half hour,” the voice says, and this time, Frank recognizes it. It’s a familiar voice. But it’s not Mel’s. Who is this familiar, non-Mel voice waking him up? Someone else who works at the hospital, apparently.

But that’s not really important right now. Because Frank is going to be late for work if he doesn’t get up right now—they both are. So he opens his eyes and sits up.

And right there, perched over the bed, smiling at him with warm eyes, is Dennis fucking Whitaker. Huh?

“There you go,” Whitaker says gently, his grin widening. “I’m going to go turn the stove back on and finish up breakfast, and I’ll see you back downstairs when you’re ready, okay?”

What is this? Surely, this has got to be some sort of dream. That’s the only explanation. But then again, if Frank were to dream up some peaceful, ideal scenario to wake up to, Dennis Whitaker kissing him on the head and making him breakfast is one that he never in a million years would have considered.

When Whitaker’s gone, Frank goes to the bathroom. And that’s when he sees the face that’s looking back at him in the mirror.

And it’s not his own. It’s Robby’s. This can’t be real. But Frank instantly thinks about Freaky Friday, and about every other body swap story that he’s ever watched. What happens is, you think the other person’s life is so easy, and then you get stuck in their body, where you’re forced to learn that it isn’t. Robby practically willed this with what he said about Frank spending a day in his shows.

Frank feels a flash of annoyance, but then he shakes it off. This is ridiculous. Robby didn’t get them stuck in some body swap scenario, because body swaps aren’t real. This is all just a strange dream; it has to be.

Frank pinches his arm, and it hurts. He looks in the mirror, and he still sees Robby’s face staring back at him. He gets ready for work, and looks in the mirror again, and he’s still in Robby’s body.

Frank doesn’t think this is a dream anymore.

At that moment, Frank decides that the only thing that makes sense is to call himself from Robby’s phone. Then, he’ll at least know if Robby is stuck inside his body, too.

Frank uses face ID to open Robby’s phone, and then he calls his own number from Robby’s contacts. Robby picks up on the first ring.

“Frank, what the hell is this?” Frank’s own voice shouts through the phone.

Frank exhales in relief. At least he’s not the only one in this predicament. And body swaps, albeit impossible in the real world, are par for the course in movies. So it’s not like there aren’t ways that he and Robby will be able to get out of this.

“We swapped bodies,” Frank says. “I think. I’m pretty sure. But it’s obvious what this is; we both said unfair things about the other person’s life, so we need to live as each other for one day, and then we’ll swap back.”

“That’s not going to work,” Robby says. “We have to go to work today.”

“I know. So we’ll just keep it low-key, do our jobs, interact with as few people as possible. It’ll be fine.”

Frank thinks for a moment. He’s pretty sure he can manage being Robby for a day, running the ER, and interacting with people as him. The bigger issue is if Robby can be him. Mel’s not working today—thank goodness, because she’d figure out that something was off right away—and if Frank gets Robby to act friendly and keep it low-key, then everyone else shouldn’t catch on.

And it’s not like Robby has someone he’s as close to as Mel that would figure out that Frank is in his body. Sure, he and Abbot are very good friends, but Abbot doesn’t work the day shift, and they shouldn’t have much crossover today. No, there’s nobody close enough to Robby at work who’d be able to figure it out—oh.

Oh, wait.

Nobody except for the guy who just woke Frank up with a gentle kiss to the top of his head and is now making him breakfast.

“Hey, what’s up with you and Whitaker?” Frank asks.

He immediately regrets it, expecting Robby to chew him out again, but instead, he’s met with an unusually soft version of his own voice.

“Why? Is he okay?” Robby asks gently.

“Uh, yeah, he’s fine,” Frank says, confused. “Of course he is. He’s making breakfast right now.”

Robby exhales.

And this… surprises Frank. Because he’s realizing now, that that gentle and loving way in which Whitaker had interacted with him earlier, that had been for Robby. And now, here’s Robby, responding in an equally gentle way when Frank brings up Whitaker.

And it’s a little weird, honestly. Frank has always noticed that Robby has favored him, and even though he knows what it’s like to be Robby’s favorite mentee, it’s always been different with Whitaker. But Frank had still thought it was just a mentor thing. Not—whatever this is.

“Can you put him on the phone?” Robby asks.

“And say what?”

“You say nothing,” Robby says. “Let me handle it.”

“Well, what are you going to tell him?” Frank asks.

“The truth,” Robby says impatiently, as if it’s the only reasonable possible answer that he could’ve provided.

Frank sighs, frustrated.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Frank says. “You’re never supposed to tell anyone outside of the body swap about the body swap. You just take care of it on your own, then you go back to normal the next day, and everyone around you is none the wiser.”

“Oh, is that right?” Robby says mockingly. “Just because you saw it in the movies, you want me to lie to my boyfriend and let you pretend to be me for an entire day?”

And sure, Robby’s tone is frustrating, and his argument is absurd, and Frank is very annoyed with him. But he gets a little distracted for a moment, because Robby just told him something that Frank is pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to know.

“Boyfriend?”

“Just put him on the phone, Frank,” Robby says.

“Let’s just wait and figure this out at work,” Frank says. “I think it’s better if we just don’t tell anyone. And then, when we swap back at the end of the day, nothing will have changed.”

“Easy for you to say,” Robby says. “Your dog doesn’t seem to care that there’s someone else in your body. Dennis is going to get suspicious if I don’t tell him what’s going on.”

Dennis?

“Robby, just let me handle it. I can be you for the morning, and then we’ll talk at work and try to swap back, okay?”

“No! Not okay! Shit, Frank, you really haven’t thought this through. What if he kisses you, huh?”

“He’s not going to kiss me! We’re about to leave for work.”

Robby sighs impatiently.

“Just let me talk to him.”

“You can talk to him tomorrow after we change back, or even at work later, but after you talk to me,” Frank says.

And then he hangs up before Robby can say anything else, which kind of makes him feel like an asshole. The thing is, though, there’s no reason to tell anyone about what’s going on if they can just undo it by the end of the day. That’s how body swap movies work, after all.

2. DON'T: Rock the boat. 

When Frank goes downstairs, he decides that this is going to be a little harder than he anticipated. Whitaker is scooping helpings of blueberry pancakes and what looks to be chicken sausage onto two plates, and he beams at Frank when he gets downstairs, a flirty smirk taking over his face.

“There he is,” Whitaker says warmly. “I didn’t want to wake you. You had the cutest sleeping face, and I haven’t seen you look that peaceful in a while.”

Crap. What would Robby say back to that?

“I’m glad you did,” Frank says.

And damn it, he should’ve asked Robby more questions and prepared for this more, because what does he even say? It’s one thing to talk like Robby, and it’s another thing to talk like how Robby would talk to his boyfriend that Frank didn’t even know he had. Frank has seen Robby flirt before, and he’s seen him with women that he was dating before, but he has no idea how Robby would behave in such a domestic and intimate setting.

“Come eat with me,” Whitaker says. “We still have fifteen minutes.”

Frank hasn’t eaten meat in a year and a half, not since the benzos screwed up his G.I. system and forced him to become a pescatarian. But this isn’t his body. It’s Robby’s body, and Robby doesn’t have Benzo Belly. So Frank eats breakfast with Whitaker, and he has meat for the first time in ages, and the food is really good. But also, Frank hasn’t had breakfast at home with another person in a very long time. It’s actually really nice.

“How are you feeling?” Whitaker asks him over breakfast, his eyes wide and genuine, like the answer matters quite a bit to him.

Is this a trick question? As far as Frank knows, Robby is never really feeling good, but maybe it’s different with Whitaker.

“Good,” Frank says in between bites. “A little tired, but good. Thank you for this; it’s great.”

Whitaker beams at him, and then he looks like he’s deep in thought.

“Have you thought any more about what we talked about last night?” he asks gently.

Well, shit. What did they talk about last night? Based on Whitaker’s face, it looks like he wants Robby to say yes, so Frank nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “A little.”

“That’s good,” Whitaker says. “You don’t have to decide yet, but I really do think that Friday night will be the perfect opportunity. Trinity already said she was cool with it, and Mel will be there, too, and you know how close she and Langdon are.”

Wait, what? Robby’s boyfriend is talking about him over breakfast. Whitaker is talking about him. Robby must’ve told him about their fight last night, then. Which means that whatever this relationship is, it means something to Robby. Especially if, based on context clues, Whitaker is trying to convince Robby to invite him out somewhere. That would mean that Robby had really told him what happened, and maybe expressed… something. Frank isn’t sure. Guilt, remorse, whatever.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Frank says. Whitaker gives him a funny look.

“I was not expecting you to agree so quickly,” he says with a little laugh.

And, well, Frank doesn’t know what Robby would say here, but he does know what he would say if it were him talking to someone he was dating.

“You know I can never say no to you,” Frank says. And it works, because Whitaker melts into a puddle, and then the conversation shifts into rehashing yesterday’s shift, which Frank was there for.

And it’s stressful trying to be Robby, but it is interesting for Frank to see Robby’s hidden life like this. Quiet mornings with his boyfriend, discussing work and life over breakfast. Confiding in his boyfriend about things that are bothering him. And then, after breakfast, driving to work together and singing along to the radio together. It’s nice. And it’s different from anything that Frank would’ve guessed that Robby would have.

And yeah, it throws Frank off to see his own face waiting for him when he finally gets to work. Robby is standing there scowling, except, of course, he looks like Frank. When he sees Frank, he looks freaked out as first, and then his scowl deepens. But then his gaze turns to Whitaker standing a little bit behind Frank, and his entire face softens.

It’s actually so obvious, Frank can’t believe he never picked up on this thing between them before.

Frank looks over at Whitaker to see if he’s noticed, but he’s just looking at Frank, thinking he’s Robby. The actual Robby follows his eyes and frowns. This is… confusing. And strange. But it’s not going to last much longer.

Because Frank is Robby for the day, he doesn’t actually get a free moment to talk about this with Robby yet. Immediately, he’s dealing with back-to-back patients, and he’s surrounded by people. Frank makes sure to keep Robby with him as much as he can, though—partially to keep him from blabbing to Whitaker, but also in case something goes wrong.

And ultimately, the morning isn’t terrible, and Frank actually handles himself pretty well. If this were a typical body swap movie, Frank would have learned how hard Robby’s job is, and he would’ve been given a deeper appreciation for him. But really, come noon, Frank is just more irritated with Robby. His job is stressful, but it’s also exhilarating being the co-head of the ER and having everyone come to him for help. And he’s nicer to them than Robby usually is, which earns him first some weird looks, but ultimately appreciation.

Also, Robby can eat meat without getting debilitating stomach pain that benches him for hours. Frank has been waiting for his Benzo Belly to act up since this morning, but it hasn’t. Because he’s in Robby’s body, and Robby’s body can tolerate chicken.

Plus, Robby has a really lovely home life, with a boyfriend who makes him breakfast and gently wakes him up. And Frank had never noticed it before, but Whitaker checks in on Robby a lot throughout the day. It’s similar to how Frank feels on days that Mel is working; he has an anchor to come back to throughout the day, someone to make him feel steady. Whitaker is always trying to be that person for Robby, constantly bumping his shoulder, or reaching out to touch his arm, or whispering assurances to him.

So no, Frank doesn’t have a deeper appreciation for Robby after living as him for a whole morning. Mostly, he just doesn’t understand why Robby isn’t in a glowing mood all the time.

A little after noon, Frank is busy with a patient, so he doesn’t notice Robby slip off. A moment later, Frank is finally free for a little bit, so he goes to look for Robby. Frank is hoping to catch him alone for a moment, but Whitaker pops out of nowhere on his way over to Robby.

“How’s your morning going?” Whitaker asks warmly. But Frank can’t talk right now, because he’s in a rush to get to Robby before he slips away again.

“Hey, I’m actually in the middle of something urgent, but I’ll catch you later, okay?” Frank rushes out.

“Uh, yeah, of course, do you need help?” Whitaker says.

“No, I just really have to go,” Frank says.

“Oh, okay.”

At the confused and slightly hurt look on Whitaker’s face, Frank feels bad, both for upsetting him, and for possibly causing problems in Robby’s shockingly stable relationship. So Frank smiles at him as warmly as he can muster up, and then, when he’s sure that there’s no one around listening:

“Talk later, okay, thanks, love you, bye!”

He’s rushing away then, planning to leave it at that, but Whitaker freezes, his face lighting up with a soft and private sort of joy. It’s way too personal for Frank to be witnessing, let alone to be on the other end of.

“What?” Whitaker asks, in a way that makes it pretty obvious that Robby has never said that to him before. Oh, shit. Shit.

Well, Frank decides that that one is Robby’s fault for not saying it earlier. From the looks of it, they’re practically living together, and they’re both pretty clearly feeling it, anyways. That doesn’t help the little lump of guilt forming in Frank’s stomach, though.

Whitaker is pulled away then by a med student, so Frank takes the opportunity to slip away and find Robby. He just hopes that Robby isn’t too annoyed when he finds out about Frank’s screw-up. The most important thing, though, is finding a way to switch back, so Frank decides that maybe he doesn’t even need to mention it.

3. DO: Find a way to compromise.

“Finally,” Frank says when he joins Robby alone in the break room. “I’ve been trying to get a moment with you all morning.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a busy job co-running the pit,” Robby says, in clear reference to their argument the night before. “Doesn’t leave a lot of room for breaks.”

“Apparently not,” Frank says.

What he wants to say is that Robby’s job is actually not that bad, especially now that he and Al-Hashimi are running the place together, and also that the job is the least of Frank’s problems today. He’s enjoying it, really. But he needs to play nice with Robby so that it will make it easier for the two of them to switch back, and so that Robby doesn’t go blabbing to Whitaker the very first chance he gets. So Frank just sighs and waits for Robby to take the lead.

“I don’t see what the fuss is,” Robby says. “I’m just going to tell Dennis, and there’s nobody else you’ll interact with today that will be able to pick up on it. And hey, you tell me who to tell on your end, and I will. Maybe Mel?”

“What? No,” Frank says. “We aren’t telling anyone. That’s not how body swaps work.”’

If anyone would be understanding about all this, it would be Mel. She would ask him if it was a joke first, but then, she would jump on board and try to help him. But Frank has watched a lot of body swap movies, and that one episode of Community, and he knows that you’re not supposed to ask for outside help. You need to sort through your emotional conflicts, both internally and with the person you’ve swapped with. And then the whole thing fixes itself.

“I’m telling Dennis,” Robby says.

“No, you’re not,” Frank says. And he realizes then that Robby grouped his own boyfriend in the same category as Frank’s best friend. So he says, “Why Mel?”

“Well, you’re very close,” Robby says with a knowing look that appears unnatural on Frank’s face, “And she texted you this morning.”

Frank feels a pit in his stomach then. Crap. He and Mel send each other Good morning texts every day. He hopes Robby responded, and he feels bad that in the chaos of everything this morning, he forgot about it today.

“I know, we do that every morning,” Frank says. “Did you respond?”

“No,” Robby says, “Of course I didn’t respond to any of your texts.”

“Damn it. Okay. Hold on,” Frank says. “I need my phone.”

Robby hands it to him, and then Frank checks his texts. Sure enough, there’s a usual one from Mel:

Mel: Good morning, Frank! :)

She didn’t send any more after that, probably because she didn’t want to bother him when he’s working, but Frank knows that she’ll be worried about him.

Frank: Good morning, Mel! Sorry this is so late. Wild morning

Frank: Nothing is wrong! Just busy. Funny story

She responds right away.

Mel: No worries at all. I look forward to hearing about it!

And if they get out of this and back into their actual bodies, maybe Frank will tell her about it. But he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the eventual reversal of the body swap, so he instead turns his focus back on the matter at hand.

“Do you know anything about how body swap movies work?” Frank asks. Robby shakes his head.

“Not really. I saw Freaky Friday once, though.”

“Well, that’s all you really need to know. Look, we both said things to each other last night that we shouldn’t have, so now, we have to understand each other, and then we can move forward.”

Robby frowns.

“That sounds very cheesy.”

“You want to talk cheesy? Your boyfriend woke me up with a kiss on the head this morning.”

“What?!” Robby says, looking alarmed. “He kissed you?!”

“It wasn’t a kiss-kiss,” Frank says. “It was a kiss on the top of my head. I’ll show you.”

“Do not show me!” Robby says. Frank rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to kiss you on the head—on my head,” Frank says. “I can show you on my hand. It was a nothing peck on my hairline.”

“What? Don’t do that, Frank; that’s my hand,” Robby says.

And Frank can’t help it. This entire conversation, this entire situation, is so absurd, that he lets out a laugh. Surprised, Robby laughs, too.

“Look,” Frank says, taking the advantage of the lighter moment, “Let’s just acknowledge that we were both wrong, and that we’ve learned things about each other from this experience. And then, presumably, we’ll switch back. Probably not now, but at least when we wake up tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t know how much I buy these guidelines,” Robby says. “But if you have something you’d like to say, feel free.”

Frank rolls his eyes. And this is the Robby that Frank knows all too well, the one who hasn’t been able to stand him for the last year and a half. Whatever version of Robby exists in his little cozy love bubble with Whitaker, he’s not here at the hospital, at least not for Frank to see.

“I made the right call,” Frank says. “It was risky, but it saved him, and I’d do it again. I didn’t have time to run it by you, so there’s nothing I would’ve done differently.”

Robby sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

Frank wants to say, Your boyfriend agrees with me, you know. He said as much this morning, and I know he said something to you about it last night. But Frank doesn’t have a death wish.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a compromise, Frank,” Robby says. “Unless what you’re implying here is that this entire thing was the universe’s way of teaching me a lesson.”

Robby is probably right, at least about this one thing. Frank has to fix this, if he wants any chance of waking up as himself again tomorrow morning.

“I can’t pretend to know what the universe wants,” Frank says. “But I want to wake up as myself again tomorrow morning. So, can you just… try?”

Robby is quiet for a moment.

“You have to let me tell Dennis. It’s a non-negotiable thing for me.”

Frank is going to regret this.

“Fine, but I want to be there for that conversation. I want to make sure you go about this delicately. We don’t want to upset or test whatever caused this.”

“Fine,” Robby says.

And so, they’ve come to an agreement, albeit a less than perfect one. At least that’s something, Frank supposes.

4. DON'T: Meddle.

The agreed-upon conversation doesn’t actually happen for another few hours. Frank and Robby soon have to get back to work, after having already taken a little too long to have their first conversation in the break room. Frank is back dealing with patients, med students, and everyone else who depends on him—on Robby and Al-Hashimi—again, and this time, it’s stressful. It’s also more than a little weird having friends of his like Samira and Cassie defaulting to him for instructions and approval, and Frank has even less time to breathe than usual.

Finally, in the early evening, Robby finds Frank during a free moment. Frank isn’t particularly looking forward to this conversation, but there are only seven hours left in the day, and Frank will be damned if he has to wake up as Robby again tomorrow.

“He’s in the break room,” Robby says. “I didn’t tell him what’s going on, but he’s waiting there to talk to us.”

And sure enough, Whitaker is waiting for the two of them in the break room when they arrive. He just looks confused, but he lights up when he sees Frank. Come to think of it, this is always how Whitaker looks when Robby enters a space, and Frank is once again surprised that he didn’t pick up on their relationship on his own.

“Hey!” Whitaker says warmly to Frank, whom he still thinks is Robby, ignoring the actual Robby in the process. And then, before unknowingly switching to speaking to his boyfriend, he takes on a professional tone.

“Uh, Dr. Langdon, is this about the treatment for Mr. Patterson?” Whitaker asks. Robby frowns, deflating.

“No, nothing related to any patients,” Robby says in a gentle voice that Frank has never heard him use before. He’s also never heard himself use this exact tone before. And he can tell that Whitaker finds it strange that Frank is speaking so softly to him.

“So, what’s wrong?” Whitaker asks, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Shit,” Robby says. “I don’t even know how to explain this. Dennis, we body-swapped. It’s me.”

Whitaker gives a fake laugh, then he pauses for a moment, his eyes widening. Turning to Frank, he says with a wide smile, “Wait, does this mean you two made up?”

Frank follows the line of thought quickly: if Frank is calling him Dennis and seemingly joking around with the two of them, then presumably, Robby told Frank about their relationship. And for Robby to have done that, they would’ve had to have made up, not just from last night, but from the last year and a half. But it’s all just implied, because Whitaker is trying to protect Robby, in case Frank doesn’t know.

“Dennis,” Robby says, dodging the question, “It’s me. It’s Michael. Your boyfriend. Last night, we sat in bed and read our books together before we went to sleep. We both wore our reading glasses. Then we went to bed, and when I woke up this morning, I was in Frank’s apartment being licked by his impatient dog.”

“His name is Gus,” Frank says.

“Oh, I know,” Robby says. “I also know what he eats for breakfast, and the route he likes to guide you on for his morning walk, because I spent an entire morning as you while you were off in my house with my boyfriend.”

Finally, something seems to click in Whitaker’s expression. He immediately turns to Frank, clearly not believing it. Damn, he really will believe anything that Robby tells him, even something like this. And without realizing it, he’s defaulting to looking to the person he believes is Robby.

“I mean, I’m really glad you told him,” Whitaker says. “That’s amazing, Michael.”

Michael?

“But?” Robby interjects, waiting to hear the rest of it. Whitaker’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Robby again, as if he’s finally starting to believe it.

“But this is really weird,” Whitaker says.

Robby reaches out to gently grab Whitaker’s shoulders, as he looks intently into his eyes.

“Baby, it’s me,” he says, earning another confused look from Whitaker. “It’s been him with you as me this whole day, but I’m here now, as him.”

Whitaker frowns and turns to Frank.

“Is this true?” he asks, clearly still believing that Frank is Robby, and still defaulting to him because of it. “How is this even possible?”

Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, Frank supposes.

“I’m not entirely sure that it’s possible, but it is true,” Frank says. “Sorry, Whitaker. He wanted to tell you, but I thought it would break the rules of the body swap.”

Whitaker turns back to Robby then, scanning his face for any possible sign that this is, in fact, his boyfriend standing there in front of him.

“Frank wouldn’t listen to me,” Robby says. “He was too caught up with trying to do things by Freaky Friday rules.”

Whitaker laughs then and looks Robby’s face—Frank’s face—over.

“Michael?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Robby says. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I know how weird this sounds, but I guess it’s some cosmic punishment for everything I said to him. I don’t know.”

“Maybe not a punishment,” Whitaker says gently. “Maybe it’s a lesson.”

“One hell of a lesson,” Frank says. Both their heads snap over to him like they forgot that he was in the room with them.

“This is so weird,” Whitaker says, looking Robby over again. Frank just watches Whitaker’s eyes scan over his face, and it’s a strange out-of-body experience, watching someone else look him over from the perspective of another person’s body.

“I know, Baby,” Robby says, shifting to wrap his arms around Whitaker’s neck. Whitaker cups Robby’s face—again, Frank’s face, really—in his hands, and Robby leans into the touch.

“This… actually makes a lot of sense,” Whitaker says. “He was acting strange this morning. I knew something was off, but I didn’t guess that it was this. I don’t even know what I thought it was.”

Whitaker looks like something is finally clicking for him, but he also looks a little disappointed, and that probably Frank’s fault for saying what he said earlier. So Whitaker had thought that Robby was saying it to him, and now that he knows it was Frank, he is clearly processing it. And Robby had no idea.

“I thought maybe I’d—overstepped last night, or something,” Whitaker says, continuing his previous train of thought.

“No, Baby, of course not,” Robby says, pressing their foreheads together. “You were right, and I’m grateful that you said what you did. I always want to hear what you think.”

It’s too intimate of a moment for Frank to be witnessing, and he feels like he’s intruding, even though it’s him that he’s watching. And it just overwhelms him a little bit, seeing himself like this. Even though he knows it’s Robby. Because his face is so open and affectionate, and his eyes are wide and warm, and they’re crinkled at the corners, too.

This, Frank thinks, must be what he looks like when he’s in love. The thought startles him. When has he ever been in love like this? Deeply and wholly, in a way that spills out of him and is visible just from looking at his face?

Frank has never seen himself like this before. He likes the way it looks, though.

But it’s not himself. It’s Robby. Which means that Robby is in love with Whitaker. Fully, and completely, in a way that shows on Frank’s face. It makes Frank feel a little better about his slip-up this morning.

“You mean that?” Whitaker whispers, continuing their conversation as Frank just watches.

Robby nods.

“And clearly, the universe agrees. I was an asshole to Frank, and now I’m stuck in his body.”

Whitaker chuckles gently and brushes his thumbs along Robby’s jawline.

But Frank is just focused on what Robby just said. Ever since Robby found out about Frank’s addiction and they’d had that awful fight, Robby has looked down on him, with the exception of brief moments when Frank has proven himself as a doctor. Robby doesn’t ever apologize to him or admit it when he’s wrong. So this comment almost knocks Frank over.

“Not too late,” Whitaker says, nodding over towards Frank. To this, Robby sighs and then looks at Frank.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Robby says. “It was a risky move, but you made the right call. And I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you.”

And Frank just is at a complete loss for words. He imagines the dumbfounded look on his face—Robby’s face—right now. He would’ve predicted the body swap before Robby’s apology.

“Uh, I forgive you,” Frank says.

Robby and Whitaker are both quiet for a moment, and then Frank realizes that they’re waiting for Frank and Robby to switch back.

“I don’t think the switch will happen until we wake up tomorrow,” Frank says, “But this seems to be the right way of going about doing it.”

“It might help if you guys talk some more, I think,” Whitaker says. “After work, I’ll go back to my place tonight, and then you can take the time to talk all this out. You might just stumble upon something that will reverse all this.”

It’s not a bad plan. And they do have to get back to work now. Frank really isn’t ready to have that conversation, but it might just be the thing to undo all of this, if Robby’s apology didn’t work. And then this whole weird day will finally come to an end, and they can both go back to their own lives.

5. DO: Be honest. 

*Not about the body swap—about your feelings

They all end up working almost two hours past the end of the dayshift. It’s a long and grueling day anyways, but being in someone else’s body—especially the co-head attending of the ER’s body—makes it all the more exhausting. By the end of it, Frank is fried and ready to go home, but he knows that he and Robby need to talk this out some more if they want to go back to normal tomorrow. Surely, the solution can’t be something as easy as an apology.

Everybody from the dayshift heads out for the night, and then it’s just Frank, Robby, and Whitaker left standing outside the hospital together. Frank waits a little ways back as the two of them whisper to each other, presumably about Frank and Robby’s plan.

It’s surreal watching them like this, even more so than earlier. Now, Whitaker has adjusted to seeing Robby in Frank’s body, and there is something more casual to the way that they interact with each other. They’re standing close to each other with their shoulders pressed together and their heads bent toward each other, planning this very strange and specific thing together like it’s any old mundane thing.

Frank can picture them like this, talking about what groceries to buy, or going over their shift schedules for the week. There is this easy, comfortable sort of intimacy between them that feels more private even than if they were to kiss in front of him. And then Whitaker is brushing a hand against Robby’s cheek and saying:

“Call me the second you change back, okay? Like, I know we’ll talk before then, but also call me then.”

Robby laughs in a soft way that Frank doesn’t know if he’s ever heard before, especially not from himself. It’s so weird to watch a version of himself who is this in love, in a way that seems so natural to him and just emanates from him. He smiles, laughs, talks, and just moves like a person in love. And Frank has never been in love like that before.  

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Robby says, squeezing Whitaker’s shoulder.

And then Whitaker is leaving, and Robby is walking back over to Frank.

“How about a late dinner?” he says.

So they take their separate cars and meet up at a little pizza place not too far from the hospital. And soon enough, Frank and Robby are sitting across from each other eating pizza. Even though he’s looking back at his own face, Frank is all too aware of the awkwardness between them. It didn’t used to be like this, before everything.

“I know a little more about the basics of body swaps now,” Robby says, taking the lead in the conversation, “And I think you were right.”

Frank is surprised.

“Whitaker filled you in?” he asks, to which Robby nods, something soft and fond appearing on his face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Listen, I know I’ve been hard on you—well, really, I’ve been shitty to you. Since your—what you went through. But I can also see how difficult all of this has been on you, and how hard you’re trying.”

Frank feels tears prickling at his eyes, and he blinks.

“Thank you, Robby,” he says. “That means a lot to me.”

Robby just nods. It really might just be as simple as this, then. Robby has just shown Frank that he understands him better after the body swap, and now, it seems to be Frank’s turn to do the same thing.

“Your job is actually pretty brutal,” Frank says. “You don’t get to be off for even a moment when you’re working. And you feel like everything falls on you.”

“Little bit,” Robby says with a self-deprecating chuckle.

The air at their little table suddenly feels lighter, so Frank decides to test his luck where he probably shouldn’t.

“But I’ve gotta say, Man, I don’t get why you’re always so angry. Things seem to be going really well for you.”

At this, Robby looks surprised.

“I’m working on handling work stressors better. But I’m not angry all the time. I’m actually…” He trails off, looking a little self-conscious, but then he sets his eyes on Frank. “I’m really happy,” he says.

“I’m happy for you,” Frank says. “He’s clearly crazy about you.”

Robby looks pleased at this, but he doesn’t say anything, so Frank continues to push his luck.

“But why keep it a secret?” Frank says, trying not to sound judgmental, particularly if Robby is still trying to figure out how to people that he’s dating a guy.

“It’s not really a secret,” Robby says. “It’s just a secret from most of the people we work with, because I’m his boss, and everyone knowing would be tricky.”

Frank knows exactly what he means. Frank picked up on their intense focus on each other throughout the day, the little touches and glances, ever since Whitaker found out that Robby was the one in Frank’s body. If everyone else were paying close attention and looking to see something, well, then they wouldn’t have to work very hard to find it.

“It will be trickier if it gets exposed and the powers that be find out about it that way,” Frank says, before he can think it through. It’s very much an overstep, and he’s expecting Robby to snap at him again, but he just sighs.

“Well, we already went to HR with it when it first began,” he says. “And over time, I’m hoping we can just weave it in without making it into a big thing.”

“I guess,” Frank says, “How long has it been, anyways?”

“Uh, a little over three weeks,” Robby says.

This one surprises Frank.

“Three weeks? That’s it?”

“Well, yeah,” Robby says. “So we’re trying to take it slow and not rush with telling everyone at work. But outside of work, the people in our lives know, some of them from work. It’s not a full secret.”

Frank is less concerned with this part anymore. Instead, he’s thinking about his major screw-up from this morning. It was been bad enough that what he’d said was Robby’s first time saying it, but now, it turns out that Frank said it after only three weeks. At least Whitaker knows that it was Frank now, though. Crisis averted. Frank doesn’t need to say anything.

But of course, Frank says something.

“Uh, Robby, you should know that I kind of screwed up this morning. When I first found out about you and Whitaker.”

“Who did you tell?” Robby asks calmly.

“No, nothing like that. I wasn’t really sure how long you guys had been together, or how serious you were, so I said something that I probably shouldn’t have. To him.”

Robby frowns.

“Spit it out, Frank.”

“It’s not really a big deal, though, because now he knows that it was me who said it, and not you, so it’s all water under the bridge. Crisis averted. Smooth sailing.”

“Frank.”

“I was leaving him in a rush, and I was trying to ditch him so I could go look for you, but I didn’t want it to be suspicious, so I said something that I probably shouldn’t have.”

“Frank, I swear—”

“It might’ve been something like, ‘Talk later, okay, thanks, love you, bye,’” Frank rushes out. Robby freezes.

“What?”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Frank says. “Based on his reaction, I got the impression that you guys hadn’t said that to each other yet.”

“You think? It’s only been three weeks!”

“Well, I know that now,” Frank says. “But Robby, he wakes you up in the morning with home-cooked breakfast. You talk to him about your shit, and he gives you advice. The way he looks at you, it’s like he oozes…” What’s the right word for it? “Devotion. So forgive me for thinking that you were in love with him.”

“Well…” Robby says, something soft and vulnerable overtaking his face. And there it is. Frank knew it.

It’s quiet for a moment, and Frank feels a little bad for both his earlier mistake and his current meddling, so he tries again.

“I am sorry, for complicating things,” Frank says. “For what it’s worth, though, based on his reaction, if you were to say it—and I know it’s very early, I’m not telling you to say it yet, and I actually don’t think you should—but if you did, I think you’d like his reaction.”

Something shifts on Robby’s face, and Frank only recognizes it because it’s his own face. It’s this private, fleeting, and hopeful thing.

“What was his reaction?” Robby asks quietly.

“His entire face just lit up,” Frank says. “I wholly believe he would’ve said it back if he hadn’t been interrupted.”

“Huh,” Robby says, a slow smile spreading across his—Frank’s—face.

And then they’re both quiet again, but it’s not an uncomfortable or awkward sort of silence. It almost feels like it used to, when they were friends, and when it was easy.

“I’m really happy for you that you have that,” Frank says. Robby smiles.

“Thank you,” Robby says. “Yeah, he’s…” and then he trails off like he can’t find the right word to encompass just how much Whitaker means to him, or just how highly he thinks of him.

“Yeah, he seems great,” Frank says.

Robby’s face shifts into something lighter, like he’s about to joke around with Frank, and Frank exhales at the sight of it.

“You know,” Robby says, “He was really pushing me to fix things with you after last night. He thought I should apologize to you.”

The corners of Frank’s mouth turn up.

“Smart guy. You should keep him around.”

“Yeah, I’m planning on it,” Robby says. And then, “I have been crappy to you, and I don’t want to be anymore. And for what it’s worth, I really…”

Robby pauses like the next part is going to cost him something, like the words taste like chalk dust in his mouth.

“You really what?” Frank urges.

Robby mumbles something incoherent.

“What was that?” Frank says, grinning. Robby rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, too.

“I admire you, Frank,” he says.

Something cracks open in Frank’s chest. He really missed Robby, not just as his mentor, but as his friend. After he put in the work and Robby was still angry and volatile, Frank would’ve never guessed that they’d get to have a moment like this again. Dennis Whitaker must be some sort of miracle worker.

“Well, I wish you didn’t look so pained saying it,” Frank jokes, “But thank you, Robby. I think I’m kind of glad all this happened. But I’m ready to switch back now.”

“Yeah,” Robby says.

And then the conversation naturally shifts, until they’re filling in the blanks of all the things that they’ve missed in each other’s lives from the last year and a half. Some of it is light, like work things, or silly stories from Robby about Whitaker, or little anecdotes from Frank about Mel, or about Tanner and Penny.

And then some of it is not so light, like Frank’s time in rehab, and Robby’s sabbatical, and this tangled and thorny weed that grew out of the wreckage of their fractured friendship and has been choking them both ever since.

And by the end of the night, Frank is feeling lighter and more at peace with himself than he has in a long time. And he’s not even in his own body. But when he goes to bed that night—in Robby’s house, because they’re both optimistic that the switch will work—Frank just feels calm. And, truthfully, he’s grateful for this whole thing. As long as it goes away by morning, that is.

+1. DISCLAIMER: Do not try this at home.

Frank wakes up the next morning to a kiss on the head. This time, though, it’s not a human kiss. His golden doodle, Gus, is standing on his pillow, just behind his head, trying to fit into a space that’s just too small for him. He licks Frank’s head again, and Frank laughs.

“Good morning, Buddy,” Frank says, sitting up to wrap his arms around Gus and give him a kiss on the snout.

And then he checks his phone. There’s already a Good morning text from Mel sitting there waiting for him, and a missed Facetime call from Robby, but just to be sure that this actually worked, Frank pulls up the camera.

Staring back at him is his own face. And, well, Frank tears up a little then, because he has never been so happy to see it before.

His first priority is responding to Mel. He gets a flip in his stomach at the thought of seeing her at work today, and then he thinks back on the look on his own face yesterday when Robby was looking at Whitaker. He thinks back on Robby’s assumption, too, and on his own panic about missing their usual texts yesterday morning. And he thinks about what all of that might mean.

But there will be time to figure all of that out, eventually, and Frank isn’t in any rush. He’s happy with the way things are. So for now, he just texts her back.

Mel: Good morning, Frank! :) Hope the rest of your day yesterday wasn’t too chaotic.

Frank: Good morning, Mel. It was. Ha ha. But it turned out well. I’ll fill you in at work later.

Mel: Looking forward to it.

Frank: Me too :)

And then Frank clicks on Robby’s missed Facetime call to call him back. Robby picks up right away, but it’s not him on the other end.

“Langdon!” Whitaker says warmly. Frank laughs, surprised by that reaction.

“Hey,” he says. “Robby all back to normal now, too?”

“Yeah, look at him,” Whitaker says, shifting the camera to point it at Robby.

Robby is standing over the stove, cooking breakfast. He gives Frank a little wave, and Frank waves back.

“Morning, Frank,” Robby says. “Morning, Gus. Did you walk him yet?”

“Ah, I’m just about to,” Frank says. “You guys are up early.”

“I rushed over here a half hour ago,” Whitaker says. “I wanted to see if it was finally him—no offense—and I couldn’t wait to see. He was already up when I got here, though.”

Frank laughs.

“I know the feeling,” Frank says. “I can’t believe that it actually worked.”

Frank isn’t sure which part of last night was what finally broke the curse, or whatever it was. He supposes it doesn’t matter, though. Frank is just so relieved to be back in his body, but he’s also surprisingly grateful for the body swap. Because now, here he is, on the phone with his old friend and that friend’s new boyfriend, and it just feels very easy and normal.

So Frank chats with them for a little while longer, and then he gets up to go get dressed, walk Gus, and get ready for work. And as he goes through the start of his routine, Frank supposes that absence really does make the heart grow fonder, because as it turns out, he’s pretty damn fond of this life of his.