Chapter Text
Robby is there, exhausted and guilt ridden when Frank wakes up post surgery, pale and wincing as he shifts painfully aware of the pull in his stomach. Frank had stumbled into the Pitt, pale and bleeding, the knife still in his stomach, before he collapsed barely making it past the door. All they knew was that it was a former patient, with the intent of hurting the first hospital staff they came across. He's there when Dana comes by, with an odd look on her face.
"We tried calling Abby," she started, and Robby could feel the confusion start just by her tone. "You forgot to remove her as your emergency contact."
Robby straightens in his chair, now officially confused. Why would Frank remove his wife as his emergency contact?
A guilty look settles on Frank's face, "Yeah, probably should have done that as soon as the divorce was finalised."
Wait, what?
"She did give an alternate number to call." She pauses as they see Frank's blue eyes widen and the man goes almost supernaturally pale. "....he is on his way....Frank? Is there a problem? Do we need to put security out? Talk to me, kid, you're freaking me out here...."
Robby can only sit and watch as Frank snaps back to himself and gives a large sigh. "No," he shakes his head. "It's fine. It was bound to happen; might as well get it over with."
He does not like that reaction at all. "Frank."
"It's fine, Robby, really. They're just....a lot. Not for me, I'm used to it. Spent my whole life with it, but you guys...yeah, this will be interesting."
Dana's face does something complicated that Robby doesn't know how to read, and he suddenly feels very much like the last man out, another piece of Frank he's somehow missed. "Wait, are we talking about your parents?"
Robby looks at Frank, who gives a nod. "I thought your parents died?"
"Adoptive Robby." He deserves the flat, unimpressed look Frank gives him. He knew Frank was adopted; he had managed to pay attention that much, right?"
Frank sinks back against the pillow. "Go. Save yourself, Dana. They'll hunt you down soon enough, and then you'll never be able to escape." He picks his head up and looks at her. "You're in their good books already. You calling them just seals the deal."
Dana rolls his eyes at Frank's dramatics but hugs him and slips out, leaving Robby alone with Frank for the first time since that disastrous shift before he went on his sabbatical. So many things came into focus when he saw Frank lying there bleeding, his small intestine perforated by a knife. He was still in the ICU and would be for the next week. Robby hadn't left his side for more than a couple of minutes since he came out of surgery.
"No, go save yourself, for me?" He weakly joked, and Frank gave a mirthless laugh.
"Wouldn't do you any good, Dr Robby."
Robby didn't realise how much it hurt for Frank to call him that until now. Frank had been using his title to put space between them for months now, and Robby feels like an idiot for only being aware of how much he hates it only after Frank is hurt.
“You know you can still call me Robby.” He wants to tell Frank he can continue to do a lot of things he used to do, but isn’t given the chance when the curtain of Frank’s room is yanked back, and a blonde man is rushing forwards, pushing past Robby with a cry.
“What happened? You told me this job was safe. A knife, seriously? A fucking knife? You promised that you would be okay on your own.”
The man is cupping Frank’s face before Robby can even blink, tutting in French, running a hand through Frank’s hair while looking him over.
A second man stops next to Robby, not looking at him, just observing the scene, but there’s something about the cool collection of the darker man that makes Robby want to shiver.
“The boy is fine, Lestat. Let him breathe.” He orders, with a fond little huff.
Lestat’s head snaps up, and the glare he shoots the other man is terrifying, yet the other man seems unfazed.
“Fine? He is not fine, Louis.” He spits, standing infront of Frank, who suddenly looks younger than Robby ever remembered him being, then Robby ever let him be. “Mon petit chéri is lying in a fucking hospital bed, and you are telling me he’s fine?”
Robby feels like he’s frozen in place, unable to move, unable to look away, as Louis crosses the distance between himself and Frank, Lestat moving aside but still glaring at Louis.
“Look, he’s alive, he’s conscious, he’s breathing-” Robby doesn’t know how to feel when Louis runs a hand lovingly over Frank’s face, Frank turning his head up into the touch with an annoyed but fond expression, only for Louis to pull back and flick Frank in the forehead.
“Louis!” Lestat gasps.
Louis shrugs, looking at Frank. “For scaring the shit out of me.”
“Mange tes morts,” Lestat mutters darkly, and Robby barely has time to blink before Lestat is on Frank once again, sitting on the bed and fussing over him, adjusting his blankets, brushing back his hair, checking his pulse.
“Listen, even if he wasn’t.” Louis states dryly, earning a sharp look from Lestat, “We would still be able to make sure our boy was.”
Once again, Robby was missing something huge, and it left a gnawing feeling in his chest.
Lestat gives a sound that suspiciously sounds like he made up his mind about something before turning to Frank. “You are coming home with us. This job clearly is not safe, and look at you, you are pale and not in a good way, mon chou.”
“I’m not going back with you.” Frank protests, batting Lestat's hand away, with a look. “I’m not quitting. The job is safe, for the most part, and I’m pale because I got stabbed. People tend to get pale when they lose blood.”
Louis folds his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes at Frank. “Oh yeah, so safe. How’s that drug recovery going?”
Robby shifts, finally feeling like he can move again, taking a step forward filled with the sudden need to call these two men out, to demand to know who they were and what their connection to Frank was. They were clearly too young to be Frank’s adoptive parents. There’s also the sudden need to defend Frank, to demand what right they have to throw Frank’s addiction in his face like that.
He’s pinned in place by two pairs of eyes. Angry and cold eyes.
“François,” Lestat asks quietly, a deadly sort of calm to his words, “who is this?”
Frank hesitates for a moment, swallowing, and opening his mouth only for Louis to cut him off.
“So you’re Doctor Robinabitch.” He gave a cold little scoff. “Of course you are.”
He shivers under Lestat’s cold study, the man smiling with sharp eyes and a sharp smile. Robby can feel his heart beating thunderously in his chest. “Ah, I thought you would be more impressive.” He clicks his tongue. “Such a shame.”
“We never did manage to train the softness out of our boy,” Louis takes a step towards Robby, and Robby can feel a cold sweat bloom along his neck. “Always adopting little strays here and there, begging us to keep them, should have known he would have found another one, here.”
“François has always been such a loving soul.” Lestat is holding Frank against him now, placing a kiss on his temple.
“You are lucky.” Louis steps back, letting the tension bleed out of him, “That it would break his heart more if anything were to happen to you. Unlike you, we actually care about him.”
“Are you done with the scary dramatics now?” Frank breaks the spell, and Robby sucks a deep breath of oxygen into his lungs.
When did he stop breathing?
Lestat laughs, “Never, mon petit chéri.”
“That’s true.” Louis rolls his eyes with fondness before giving Robby a cold look. “You can go now, we’ll take care of François from now on.”
It’s a warning, it's a threat, it’s a promise, and Robby wants nothing more than to bash against it, to refuse, to beat against whatever hold they have on Frank until he’s black and blue.
The curtain twitches, drawing their attention, and Jack is walking in, calm, unperturbed, and unimpressed.
“Who the fuck are you?” Louis demands, with a small frown.
Jack doesn’t blink. “I’m Doctor Jack Abbot. Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you harassing my resident?”
Lestat barks out a laugh at Jack’s calm voice and raised eyebrow. “Oh, I like this one.”