Chapter Text
Brendon Park only ever came down to the Pitt for exactly two reasons. The first was an emergency consult, and the other was to see Robby, checking to make sure his husband was still alive and taking reasonable care of himself as they talked about dinner plans or other domestic matters with blunt matter-of-fact tones.
So it was a complete shock to Frank when he looked up from where he was sitting on a hospital bed, nursing a broken nose, to see Brendon Park, Park the Shark, one of the most terrifying men in the PTMC, standing at the end of his bed, with his arms crossed over his broad chest, with a sharp look on his face.
“Uh…”
“You try to tell me it looks worse than it does, and we are going to have an issue,” Park commanded, moving around the bed and reaching out to cup Frank’s face, earning a squeak from the younger man in complete surprise at the action. Park’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Frank’s bandaged nose.
“Who did the reduction?”
Park’s tone is sharp, his hands warm on Frank’s face, not letting go.
“Whitaker.”
Frank is surprised once again when Park drops his hands from Frank’s face and now looks absolutely pissed, already pulling out his phone and calling Robby.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“A patient broke Langdon’s nose.”
“What?! When? How bad is it? I’m on my way.”
Frank opens his mouth, but closes it quickly under Park’s glare. “I have no idea when, but I overheard a couple of the nurses talking about it. Whitaker did the reduction.”
“Brendon, Whitaker is a good doctor. I trust him.”
“He’s not you, Michael.” Park shot back. Frank is fully getting off the bed when he feels a large hand on his chest, pushing him back down. “Sit down.”
There is no room for argument, and Frank does as he’s told in an instant. “Listen, it sucks, but it’s not a big deal-”
Park’s glare is withering. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Frank could only sit there as Park finished his conversation, eyes looking even more blue against the deep bruising already starting to form. “Right, not sure what this is, or why you’re here, but I’m going to go back to work now….”
Frank knew about Robby and Park; he was one of the very few who did, finding out about them when he was still an intern, and while he and Robby were close, he was always under the firm impression that either Park didn’t like him or did not care about him one way or another. Then PittFest happened, and Frank was now fully under the impression that Brendon Park downright hated him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Park commanded, “What happened?”
“Psych patient.”
Park crossed his arms once again, “I need more than that.”
“Technically, you don’t.” Frank reasoned, shooting off the other side of the bed. “Call Robby back and tell him we can talk tomorrow, I’m fine, Dr Park.”
Frank slipped out of the room, his heart beating rapidly at the interaction that had just happened between him and the terrifying man. Things had been awkward to say the least since Robby had gotten back from the sabbatical. Even more awkward when Frank tried to move to the night shift, succeeding for a bit, before he was suddenly put back on the day shift without an explanation.
Dana grunted when Frank walked back through those doors at seven am a month and a half ago and greeted him with a “thank god, Robby was driving all of us insane.”
He had yet to be scheduled back on the night shift, and things with Robby were still off. Robby no longer acted as he hated him; the pair not really talking unless it was about something medical, and an almost unspoken truce seemed to form, and Robby was no longer avoiding him. Instead, he was constantly keeping an eye on Frank, never letting him out of his sight or reach for too long. Frank felt like he was an intern all over again.
It got so much worse when Robby accidentally found out Frank was looking at any fellowship or attending position that would take him out of Robby’s ER, once he completed his last year of residency.
“Doctor Langdon, do you need to sit down?”
Frank was pulled from his thoughts by a concerned-looking Mel, who was standing in front of him, where he was leaning against a wall, hand to his chest.
“Nope, I’m good,” He assured. “Just taking a moment before I get back out there.”
“Oh, that’s good, but I do think you might need to sit; you’re looking a little pale.”
“Lack of vitamin D. I’ll go stand in the sun in a bit.” Frank cracked weakly as his phone began to ring.
“Do you need to get that?”
Frank pulled out his phone and saw Robby’s contact displayed on the screen. “Nope.” He shook his head and pocketed his phone. “Need help with a patient?”
He ignored his phone as the vibrating stopped, only to kick back off less than ten seconds later. “No.” Mel shook her head, slowly, “but if you need-”
“Yes.” Frank cut her off, silently pleading.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Frank nodded. “Mel, I’m fine. I’m just…not ready for my first case to be solo, not yet. Get back on the horse and all…just slowly.”
That seemed to do the trick, but it also helped that Frank sincerely meant it. Frank had meant it when he said his broken nose sucked, but it was fine. Ezra had been in the Pitt several times with mental health issues. The teenager was a sweet kid whose dad was overwhelmed and struggling, and his mother stopped Ezra’s meds any time he seemed to be doing better for an extended period of time, declaring she wouldn’t poison her son more than she needed to. She was still fighting his diagnosis of early-onset schizophrenia.
Frank had just been at the wrong angle at the wrong time, Ezran flinging back and headbutting Frank right in the nose, the kid too lost in an episode to be consciously aware of what he was doing.
“Uh, sure then, Mel brightened, “I have a patient with several-”
He was following Mel, listening intently and suddenly he was weightless, his feet leaving the ground, Park’s massive arms around him, picking him up in a bridal hold. “What the fuck?!”
Park looked down with those painfully frigid eyes, burning bright with cold anger. “Next time, answer your phone, Frank. Doctor King, please move.”
Mel shook her head quickly, stepping back from Park, letting him pass, as Park carried Frank through the Pitt. “I would let you walk, but I really don’t want Robby spending his day off physically chasing you.”
Frank can hear the whispers forming around him, Park shooting a glare to the whispering Princess and Perlah, the nurses quieting immediately.
Robby doesn’t look any happier when he comes into view, his arms crossed and a heavy frown on his face. “Really, Frank?” Was all he said, reaching out and lightly grabbing Frank’s face, to look at the injury as best he could with the bandage and splint.
Frank was painfully aware that Park was still carrying him in front of everyone. “What happened?”
“Ezra.”
Robby blinked. “Ezra?”
“Mom decided to stop his meds again.”
Robby pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a string of curses, too low for Frank to hear properly. “Of course she did. Alright, you’re done for the day.”
“Not your call to make, Robby.”
“Kind of is, already talked to Al-Hashimi.” Robby sighed. “We had an agreement when you came back, Frank. You get hurt in any way, you come to me.”
“You weren’t here, and it’s a minor break.”
“Whitaker had to do a reduction, Langdon.” Park snapped, holding Frank. Frank was starting to become embarrassed at the ease with which the surgeon was still carrying him.
“I was there.” Frank pointed out. “Can you let me down? This is outright embarrassing.”
Park stared at him for a moment. “It wouldn’t be if you ate more.”
Robby gave a dark hum. “Grab your stuff, lets go.” Park let him down, but still was standing like he was fully prepared for Frank to run.
“Fine.”
“Good.” Robby’s tone is clipped. “I’ll be outside waiting.”
Frank was now officially confused. “Why?”
“Robby is driving you home.” Park supplied, “There’s no way we’re letting you drive yourself like this, Lagndon.”
“It’s a broken nose, I was given Toradol, not-” Frank didn’t finish his thought.
“And that’s great.” Robby offered, “Still doesn’t change things. We had an agreement, and you broke it, so now there are consequences. Next time you’re hurt, especially on shift, let us know.”
Frank’s mouth fell open. “Lets go, Langdon.”
Knowing there was no winning this, Frank went and grabbed his stuff, meeting Robby outside the Pitt and following him to his car, Robby telling him he better not see Frank back at work tomorrow or Park would be the one taking him back, and to get some rest.
Frank returned to a department full of rumours and stories and tried his best not to die of embarrassment.
“Good.” Robby sighed, looking up from his charts. “Next time, just be a good boy, and come to one of us.”
Frank had no response to that.
For the next week, Frank does his best to avoid Robby, working as much as possible with anyone who's not him, and going to Baran as often as he can when he needs help. He also did his best to avoid Park, the man coming down at least once a day just to see Robby, but now his sharp eyes would look around the Pitt for Frank.
“You know, whatever it is that you’re doing is just going to make it that much worse when they catch you.’ Dana pointed out dryly, earning a cheeky half smile.
“Yes, but one, they would have to catch me, and two, pretty sure they both hate me enough, where as long as I don’t actively die here, or at least not on Robby’s shift, they don’t care what happens.”
Dana stared at him. “Jesus.” She shook looked over the rim of her glasses. “You get that, Robby or do I need to make him repeat it?”
Frank could feel the colour drain from his face as he turned around to come face to face with Robby, whose expression was unreadable. His voice was decepitvly calm as he spoke.
“No. I have it, thanks, Dana.”
“Right, I’ll get back to-” Robby’s hand is a warm and unshakable weight on Frank’s slender shoulder, the man raising his eyebrow at Frank. “
“When is the last time you took a break, Langdon?”
“Uhhhhh….” Frank trailed off, doing his best to remember the last time he took a break.
“He’s been going since he got here.” Perlah offered, holding her hands up in a ‘what are you going to do?” motion to Frank.
Robby’s neutral expression turned into a frown. “It’s two in the afternoon, Frank.” The use of his first name in more than a year sends a jolt of surprise and panic through him.
“He hasn’t,” Dana called out.
Robby gives Frank's shoulder a small squeeze. “We’ll be back in fifteen.”
“I can give you twenty,”
Dana calls out, earning a grunt of thanks from the bearded older man. Frank's squawks of objection are ignored as Robby manhandles him to the elevator, taking him up to the fourth floor, and texting something on his phone before tucking it back in his pocket.
Park is standing there waiting for them, with a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face, as Frank steps out, guided by Robby’s hand at the small of his back.
“Seven hours, Frank?”
“Perlah says he hasn’t eaten in that time, either.”
“I’m fine.” Frank defended himself, finding himself stuck between the two men, Park leading him to an atrium overlooking the main lobby of the hospital.
Park lightly shoved him into a chair with a snort. “What part of take care of yourself did you miss in our agreement?”
“Apparently, all of it,” Robby muttered, digging into a bag Frank had missed, pulling out neatly packed tuperwares, filled with food, handing one to Frank. The brunette was taking it with an uncertain expression.
“You can eat it by yourself, or we can feed you, kid,” Robby grunted, handing Frank a fork. “You’re choice, but you’re not going anywhere until you’ve eaten something.”
“Do I dare ask about you drinking water?” Park inquired with deceptive softness.
“I’ve heard of it.” Frank joked.
Neither of the other men spoke for a moment. “Ubelivable.” One of them uttered.
Frank stared at the tupperware, not moving, until Park took it out of his hands and opened it to reveal some sort of steak and rice dish. “We can still feed you-” he lightly threatened.
Frank took the fork and took a bite.
“Finish it all,” Robby commanded, taking a bite of his own food, before he fell into an easy conversation with Park, who was eating his own lunch, both keeping an eye on Frank as he ate. He eats it all and ignores Park’s soft, “good boy.”
Robby and Park no longer give Frank a chance to avoid either one after that, keeping an eye on him, Robby sometimes all but forcing Frank to take brakes and Park coming down every once in a while just siting there in the break room, a silent, imposing, commanding presence as Frank is forced to eat something other then a protein bar or a rare sad sandwich from the cart. Constantly praising Frank when he finished a meal, took a break on his own or came to Robby instead of Baran or Jack.
Frank found himself starting to want their praise, making sure to eat and drink water, and even coming to Robby the next time he’s hurt instead of someone else. Robby actually smiled at him when he did that, not one of those little strained smiles, but a real one, like he would smile at Frank before PittFest.
Which is why Frank was so shocked to find himself pulled off the schedule for a whole week.
“Uh, Robby, do you have a moment?”
Anxiety builds deep in Frank’s core as Robby doesn’t respond for a moment, finally looking up from his charting over the rim of his glasses. “What, Langdon?”
“There seems to be some mistake with the schedule…” Frank hates how small he suddenly sounds, feeling even smaller when Robby raises his eyebrows.
“Oh?”
“I’m not on it for next week.”
“Aaah. Not a mistake then.” Frank’s stomach sank, and the panic started to build rapidly.
“What?” It comes out as a hoarse and broken whisper.
Robby’s expression is hard. “This is your sixth double in a month, Frank.” He chided, “I thought we were making progress with you taking care of yourself, but clearly I was wrong. You can not be the doctor I need you to be if you are burning yourself out and not sleeping.”
Frank swallows audibly, now feeling a sense of shame for once again making Robby angry. “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.” Robby’s voice softened.
“Believe it or not, Park and I actually care about you and want you to do better, alright?”
“Okay.” Frank nodded, feeling like a scolded child.
“We don’t like having to give you consequences, but until you can show us that you are continuing to do better, we’re going to have to keep putting them in place. Do you understand, Frank?”
He nods. “I need words, Frankie.”
“I understand.”
Robby smiles at him, one of those real smiles and a knot in Frank’s chest loosens. “Good. It’s just a week, Frank. Now, when was the last time you took a break?”
“You know how busy it’s been-”
Robby looks at him, and Frank bows his head. “I’ll take one now.”
“Thank you, that’s all I ask.”
The words come out unbidden, “Yes, sir.”
The week he’s off drags by with agonising slowness, the first three days Frank tries to sleep, but finds himself texting Shen at two am, or Dennis at six while he’s in the car with Santos on his way to his shift. He’s bored and anxious and hates being alone for too long. He goes for runs and makes sure to eat, knowing Robby and Park would be disappointed again if they found out he wasn’t.
Frank doesn’t raise his head from the sofa when his phone buzzes. He nearly drops it when he sees a text from an unknown number.
“Mind telling me why you’re texting Shen in the middle of the night when you should be sleeping?”
Frank’s heart starts to beat hard. He automatically saves the number as Park without being told to.
P: “I am waiting for an actual answer, Langdon.”
F: “I can’t sleep?”
P: “Pack a bag and send me your address. I’ll be there in an hour.”
F: “No.”
Frank throws the phone, eyes going wide at his sudden rebellion, fighting the urge to do exactly what Park told him to do, desperately wanting to be good, to earn his praise, and hating himself slightly for it.
His phone starts to buzz. He tiptoes over to it, like it’s a spider, picking it up and answering before he could chicken out.
“Want to try that again, Frankie?”
“Um, no thank you, I’m fine…Sir.” Once again, the title comes out of him without him thinking, making his eyes go wide.
“Try again, pup.”
Park’s voice is silky smooth and low in a way that sends a shiver up Frank’s spine. “I’ll pack a bag and send you my address.”
“I knew you could be good for us. Think about what you want for dinner, Frankie. We’ll pick it up on our way home.”
Frank never moved so fast in his life, packing his bag only to realise halfway through that he didn’t know how long to pack for. Robby texted him before he got a chance to ask.
“For the rest of the week and the weekend, Frankie.”
His hair is still wet when Park shows up, his mouth in a hard line as Frank opens the door. He softens when he sees Frank, and Frank tries not to take pride in that. “What are we going to do with you. Get a towel, you’re not going out there with wet hair.”
“I’ll be fine, you can’t actually get sick from going out with wet hair.”
Park sighs with amusement. “Humour me.”
Frank rolls his eyes, and he hears Park call him a brat but he sounded more amused then mad so Frank comes back with the towel, he wasn’t expecting Park to be the one to towel off his hair, making it stand up in odd directions, It was getting too long again and was constantly falling in his face, and he hated the way everyone commented on how it made him look younger, but he had been to lazy to cut it.
“Good,” Park hummed. “I’ll get your bag while you hang that up.”
“I can carry my own bag, Park.” Frank objected, earning a lopsided smile.
“Yes, you can, but you won’t.” Park declared, “You did as I asked and packed your bag; I can carry it.”
“...I’m not winning this, am I?”
“Not at all, cupcake.” Frank knows the nickname is sarcastic, but it makes him blush anyway. He picks indian because he vaguely remembers it’s one of Robby’s favourites, and Parker smiles in approval. Robby also gives his approval when he gets home, telling Frank it was an excellent choice and praising him for thinking of Robby as he chose.
There’s a thick and weighty credit card, the kind that only came with some obscene spending limit, that gave Frank anxiety just looking at it, waiting for him next to the coffee maker when Frank woke up the next morning. He had spent the night in one of Park and Robby’s spare rooms in a bed that smelled too much like them, with blackout curtains and the most over-the-top noise machine Frank had ever seen.
R: “Morning. The card is in case you need anything. Feel free to order DoorDash or get groceries if you want some snacks. Don’t hesitate to use it for anything. We’ll talk tonight about setting up a sleep schedule for you, and no more texting Shen in the middle of the night. We’ll text when we’re on our way home. Brendon is cooking tonight. Feel free to go for a run, just make sure to text us when you leave and come home again.”
Frank absolutely does not touch the card. He spends the day reading a collection of medical journals marked with various sticky notes and book notes. He gets so engrossed, he forgets to eat, and he’s still reading when Robby and Park walk through the door with hurried steps, a flurry of worry and anger.
“Frank!”
Robby’s bellow startles him so much that he falls off the sofa just as Robby bursts into the living room.
“What happened?”
“What happened?” Robby is on him in an instant, hands moving everywhere, checking him over while breathing hard. “Why the fuck are you not answering your phone? Brendon, I have him.”
Frank’s eyes widen further as Brendon storms into the room, Robby shifting aside only for Park to once again check Frank over. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah…sorry, I didn’t hear it go off, I’m fine. I’ve just been reading…” He gestured to the stack of journals he had been working through, this laptop open with ongoing notes typed up.
Both men freeze at that.
“Frankie-” Robby’s voice is quiet in a way that makes Frank nervous. “How long have you been working on this pup?”
The name doesn’t register with Frank. “What time is it?” He starts to look for his phone, pulling it out in between the sofa cushions with a victorious “ah-ha!” only to be greeted with a bunch of texts and missed calls, getting progressively more alarmed.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Park retorted with a mocking tone.
“Answer the question, Frank,” Robby repeated.
“Uh…since like 7:30…this morning?” He knew in an instant that it was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Their faces darkened.
“Did you at least eat?”
“.......” Frank didn’t answer as he tried to remember if he did, suddenly aware of the hollowness of his stomach. “Oh, but your card is still on the counter.” He remembered suddenly. “I didn’t use it, and I have my own, if I need anything.”
Once again, it was the wrong thing to say. “Go put it in your wallet, while we shower and change,” Park ordered. “Robby or I will check to make sure it’s there after dinner, of which you will eat all of what you’re given, or as much as you can. If you need anything while you are here, you use that card, and that card only.”
“It makes no sense for me to use your credit card when I have my own. I’ll just have to pay you back.”
“Put it in your wallet, Frank,” Robby ordered this time, and tomorrow, put your ringer on. We need you to answer when you text so we know you’re okay.”
Frank nodded and did as he was told, showing both men his wallet, the card tucked behind it, as Park made them dinner. Robby is there when he wakes up the next morning, serving him breakfast and only letting him have one cup of coffee, before making them both go on a morning walk. Frank doesn’t remember if it’s Robby’s day off or if he called out, and he doesn’t ask.
He continues to read the medical journals with frequent breaks and answers every one of Park’s texts, a new group chat shared between the three of them. He preens under Robby’s praise. He’s still staying with them when the phone call comes.
He can feel Park still in the car next to him as Frank answers the phone, his heart sinking in his stomach, and the panic hits hard. The voice turned to an overwhelming sound, and he couldn’t move as Park took the phone from him. Park’s voice was low and sharp, and Frank couldn’t make out a single word.
There is nothing left of his apartment by the time they make it to his building, blocked off by the fire trucks still battling the blaze, everything he had in there burned to a crisp, and Frank is losing everything. Park holds him as he cries at the loss of his children’s art and the pictures he has of them, scared and overwhelmed at losing everything and now being homeless.
He calls Abby and tells her what happened, and she promises to send him more pictures with a tone of sympathy, promising they can resume overnight visits when he has a permanent place to live that meets the court's approval. Their marriage might have been broken beyond repair, and the trust had been shattered, but Abby believed him when he said he never took the pills when he was with the children, only at night and only to help with the withdrawals.
She knew how much he loved his children and how he would never do anything to intentionally put them in danger. His entire life had been reduced to a single duffel bag and a backpack. Park and Robby absolutely refuse to let Frank move out until he can find a new apartment, one in a safer neighbourhood. He tries to explain that, between rehab, lawyers' fees, bills and the child support payments, he couldn’t afford any place safer.
“Frank, this is part of taking care of yourself. Come to us when you have a problem, so we can fix it.” Park points out, earning a hum from Robby, the trio sitting on the back porch looks like something out of a Nancy Meyer movie.
“In this case, the solution is simple: just live here until you pay off some of the debt and can save for a new apartment.”
Frank is tempted, he really is. “I can’t take advantage of you two like that, you’re already doing so much, plus I have the kids.”
Robby lowers his book and looks over his glasses.
“You’re not taking advantage of anything, you’re being a good boy, our good boy, by letting us keep you safe. Your old apartment was in a rough part of town, and who knows what could have happened to you while you were there.”
Frank hates the guilt that starts to build in his core. “And from the sound of it, it was no place for the kids either, Frank. Please just think about it.”
“Okay…but the girls…”
“We can turn one of the spare rooms into their room so they can visit. We don’t know much about children, but we have the space and Robby, and I would both breathe easier knowing you all were somewhere safer.” Park reasoned.
“Not to mention you would get the added support of us here to help out if you need.”
“I would have to talk to Abby…”
“That’s fine, baby.” Robby picked up his book again. “We can talk about it in the morning. Why don’t you go take a shower now, sweetheart? You’ve had a long day, and it’s your first day back to work tomorrow, bedtime a little earlier, tonight, I think.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Good night, pup.”
“Good boy, good night.”
He earns twin smiles from the two older men when he agrees to move in with them for a while, riding the high of their approval for most of the day, only to open his wallet to pull out some cash to leave a tip for the barista at the coffee shop in the lobby of PTMC to find his credit card completely missing and the black card, Park and Robby left for him that first morning, sitting proudly in it’s place.