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Surprise rocks Robby at Dennis' words, his voice low and firm in a tone Robby has never heard from the other man, Dennis' face set in a hard, determined mask.
"Thank you, I have it from here."
He doesn't get a chance to ask what Dennis means by that statement, as Dennis is walking past him and straight into the hospital room where Frank was being stitched up, looking pale at the blood loss and pain radiating from his head. Robby sees Santos silently greet Dennis with a knowing look before she goes back to working on Robby's senior resident; there had been a shift between the two of them. Robby still had to figure it out.
"I told you not to go in there." Dennis words made Frank snap to attention from where he sat with his eyes closed, the pair previously in silence. "I made it clear, Francis, that when it was time to sedate him, I would be the one to go in there, not you."
Robby feels himself grow roots where he was standing, unable to move, forced to watch as Frank's posture softens and shrinks into himself. It's similar to the posture Frank has been adopting around Robby, but unlike with Robby, this screams of soft regret and apology, not the broken uncertainty that was starting to haunt Robby's reason.
"You were working on the overdose in trauma one, and they needed someone to do the sedation, and I was available, and I didn't want Mel or Javadi to have to do it."
"Then you get Trinity or McKay. Anyone else, Frank." Dennis snapped back. He waited until he got a single nod from Santos, his friend moving aside to give them space. Dennis is on Frank in an instant, cupping his face and looking at the head wound, which was split open on the med cart. It was a miracle Frank wasn't more seriously injured. Robby's stomach flipped when he noticed tears welling up in Frank's crystal-clear blue eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Dennis softens but doesn't relent in response to Frank's quiet, remorseful apology. "I know you are, Sweetie, but we can't keep you safe if we tell you not to do something and you do it anyway. We talked to you about this more than once, and I was hoping you were making progress with it."
We?
"I am." Frank is pleading openly now, and Robby feels like he can't breathe at whatever he's watching. He shouldn't be watching. He couldn't move.
"I really am, but they needed help, and it's my job to help, Dennis. I am just trying to do my job. Be a good doctor and make up for-"
"Oh, baby," Dennis runs his fingers through Frank's hair with one hand, the other still cupping Frank's jaw, "you are, you are good, and I know you want to help, but we give you an order like this to keep you safe. Jack would have given you the same order."
Frank nods slowly at that. "Okay."
"I'm sorry you got hurt, sweetheart." Robby's stomach does something complicated once again as he witnesses Dennis kiss Frank's forehead, "but we're going to have to talk about it again, tonight. I've texted Jack."
"No."
"We're not mad," Dennis assures, earning a snort from Trinity, which he ignores. “Just worried at how much you keep putting yourself at risk, baby, without us there. Remember, you need to take care of yourself.”
Robby feels like he’s been dropped into some twisted alternate universe, watching Frank fold and submit in a way Robby would never imagine.
Submit to Dennis and Jack.
Robby watched as the pair started to dance around each other and then fall into a rhythm in those ten long dark months when Frank was gone, and Robby was slowly descending to his worst. He watched as his intern and his best friend became something entangled and intertwined with no real label or wanting one.
“He belongs to me, and I with him, Robby. It’s simple.” Was Jack’s explanation in the night air surrounding the PTMC roof when Robby finally asked, but this, this thing with Frank, was driving sharp spikes of something he couldn’t name deep into his psyche and soul.
“Did you already call him?”
Frank’s voice is tearful, his words wet.
“Yeah, baby, I did.” Dennis nods. “You can’t work like this, and you broke one of our only conditions of you working on the day shift with me.”
Robby’s eyes meet Santos’, but instead of looking appalled or shocked, she looks back with clear unphased eyes.
She knows exactly what is happening. She’s seen this before.
“It’s not forever, Frankie, just until you prove you will start taking care of yourself seriously.”
Robby can’t take it anymore, can’t stomach it, can’t breathe with the rolling and twisting in his stomach at what he was witnessing, fueled by too many emotions to name, and he was too scared to figure out. He slips out, as Dennis continues to run his fingers through Frank’s hair, giving soft praises mixed with gentle censure. He doesn’t realise Santos slips out after him.
“Robby.”
He forces himself to stop at her voice, turning around to see the same assessing look she was watching Dennis and Frank with earlier. “About what you saw in there-”
Robby doesn’t know what he saw in there.
“It works for them.” She begins. “It’s fucked up,” Robby wants to laugh harshly at that.
“But it works for them, all three of them.” She continues, “...Langdon needs it.”
Robby wants to tell her that she has no idea what Frank needs, but he no longer has any idea what Frank needs. He did once, before he pushed him away with sharp words, violent thoughts, and bitter cold guilt. Robby had been back for months and still had done nothing to fix what was broken between them, rooted in place by fear and too many revelations over his sabbatical in the dead of the night, unable to sleep.
“Why are you telling me this?”
He watches as Santos squares her shoulders. “Because I see the way you look at Langdon, how you watch him.”
Robby feels painfully and brutally exposed.
“It works for them. Them, not you.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Doctor Santos.”
“Right.” Her tone is sharp and disbelieving. “You’re not getting him back. At all. I would say don’t try, but we both know you won’t listen to me. You can try, but I’m telling you now that, the Fuckleberry you’re used to, the one that follows you around like you hung the fucking sun or something? That goes away the moment someone tries to mess with Langdon.”
There’s something in Santos’ tone that makes Robby think she’s not only witnessed that but has been on the receiving end of it.
“You saw how he was in there. Abbot is just as bad. I’m not saying don’t fight when you finally figure whatever shit you’re dealing with out, but you’re not going to get him back.”
“I have no desire to get Frank Langdon back in any capacity, Doctor Santos.”
“Good to hear, brother.”
Jack’s sudden presence startles Robby, but doesn’t startle Santos. Jack stops next to Robby, giving him a long look.
“Then you’ll have no objection to my taking our boy back to the night shift.”
Robby does. He also knows he’s not included in the ‘our’ Jack so casually dropped.
“How bad is it?”
“Stitches,” Santos answers just as clipped as Jack. It’s plain to see the obvious tension and worry he’s openly wearing. “Dennis is yelling at him now.”
This gets a snort from Jack. “We would never yell at Frank.”
It’s both a silent promise and a quiet assurance that does nothing to calm the tangled and confusing storm raging inside of Robby.
Jack’s hand is warm as he pats Robby’s shoulders before heading into the room Frank is occupying.
“When?”
When did this happen? When did it start? When did it get this deep, and why didn’t he stop it?
“A week after you left,” Santos informs him bluntly. “Frank came in desperate to work, this close to relapsing. We thought he did. He’s been there ever since.”
Any follow-up question feels like ash in Robby’s mouth.