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He was heading into work, hands scrubbed and sanitized, when Robby pulled him over by the lockers.
“What?” Frank said, tone slightly unsure. Maybe he’d missed a drug test. Maybe he was getting promoted. He never knew what to expect anymore with Robby. Familiarity between them had gone out the window a long time ago.
Robby let out a sigh and folded his arms across his chest. Frank knew immediately this was not a pleasant meeting.
“Tell me why Dr. King just handed off her easy peds case to Whitaker?”
“Is this a trick question? Because that doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with me. If Dr. King passed off a case, I’m sure she had a good reason because she’s an excellent doctor.” He couldn’t help but to be a little biting, especially when Mel was involved.
To his horror, the corner of Robby’s mouth turned upward into a slight smile, but not one that meant he was happy. Frank’s mouth went dry.
“Oh, but I think you do have something to do with it. It was parvovirus.”
There was a sickening whoosh feeling in the pit of his stomach, something akin to the floor being ripped out from underneath him.
“... So?” He said stupidly, even though he knew exactly what would follow. There was something about being alone with Dr. Robby that sucked all the air out of the room and made him feel completely inept.
Robby laughed humorlessly, “So, I think that someone got one of my best residents pregnant.”
Frank could feel the color draining from his face. He had no quip to respond with, absolutely nothing clever to say, he just stared at him, mouth open.
Finally, as if his mouth had caught up with his brain, he started: “-- What’s going on between me and Mel isn’t anyone—”
“You’re married, Frank. You went to rehab last year. What the fuck are you doing?”
His face burned with shame, heart thudding in his ears. Robby could fuck up everything right now. Tell Abby, get Mel fired, whatever he wanted to do. It made Frank feel like a little kid. Someone else was always in charge of his life, never him.
“Save the speech, okay?” He hissed, voice low, “Me and Mel– we’re working things out, obviously the timing is shit, but,” he ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m a grown up, Robby. I can make my own bad decisions.”
Robby puffed out a breath, “Yeah, I can see that.”
“You’ve made your point. Okay? Can I get to work? Or are you going to take this to admin?”
He sighed, looking down, as if he was relenting, then finally said, “No. No. Nothing like that… just… keep Dr. King happy. And Frank?”
“... What?” As if making Mel happy wasn’t one of his top priorities.
“Get it together.”
“On it.” He said brusquely, and pushed past Robby and into the busy throng of the ER.