Archive of Our Own ^beta

Robby didn't exactly miss the first 'congratulations', it simply passed him by; the well wishes were for someone else and therefore background noise that didn't immediately concern him.

He was sitting at the computer, going through the patients that the night shift had left for them. Dana would tell him whose birthday it was before he embarrassed himself. There would be something sugary in the breakroom that everyone would be invited to eat a piece of. He'd say something in a quiet moment and that would be it until the next birthday rolled around.

He ran a hand over his chest. One pediatric patient with anxious parents that he could give to Langdon. Two, no three elderly patients that were perfect for Mohan.

The second congratulations, by Mohan, made him look up briefly, over the rims of his glasses, to see if he could catch who it was addressed to, so he could piggyback.

Langdon.

Langdon ducking his head, like he didn't want to be congratulated; ears pink. He jerked his head towards Robby with an almost panicked expression, so he did them both a favor and looked away quickly.

Fuck.

It certainly wasn't his birthday or a milestone of one of the kids, that Robby knew, because as much as he was trying to erase Langdon from his thoughts, he knew exactly when they used to celebrate. He surreptitiously checked the date but came up blank. Maybe it was a sobriety thing. Well, congratufuckinglations.

A broken leg was waiting for surgery, something for Whitaker to keep an eye on. Whitaker, who was developing well and who was going to be a good doctor, even if he was missing some of the instincts Robby was looking for.

A presentation interrupted his thoughts. "Dr. Langdon, I've got a patient with a—"

Robby took a breath and focused on the monitor in front of him, blocking everything else out until it directly concerned him. At least the presentation whisked Langdon away towards one of the rooms.

He checked his mail next. Three articles Jack had sent at random times during the night, because he liked keeping Robby engaged and liked to reach out way too much, mixed with two CfPs, an invitation to a study, and a fellowship approval.

He skimmed the subject lines and immediately closed his inbox when nothing popped out as urgent. He got alerts for drug recalls, he cared little for the rest, especially when he heard the clacking of heels that sounded like Gloria's.

"Speak of the devil," he greeted her.

She returned the insincere smile he'd graced her with. "Speak of yourself," she replied and handed him an envelope. "Congrats on your resident qualifying for the fellowship. Well deserved, even if it feels a little spontaneous." She looked at him, eyebrows up. "Do we think that's a good idea? He just got back two months ago. He's not even supposed to be board-eligible."

Robby frowned, reaching out for the envelope while he was still connecting the dots. Langdon was being congratulated, the email, a fellowship. "What's this?" he asked as he took the papers.

Gloria looked vaguely disappointed by the question. "He applied for a fellowship. I don't know what else to tell you, other than that he got it, despite officially still being an R4 for another few months."

"You're approving Langdon for a fellowship?" Robby asked—the sarcastic, upset amusement stuck in his throat when he caught the way Mohan was looking at him. He knew judgmental when he saw it.

"Fuck this, what is it. Not the teaching one, I assume?" The medical education fellowship that he had recommended Langdon for, back when he'd still had faith in the guy. He ignored the small voice that insisted that Langdon would still be a good choice for it; he'd shown that consistently in the past two months whenever he was on the day shift with Robby.

Gloria eyed the stack of papers in her hand. Great, not even she knew what it was. "Tactical Medicine Fellowship," she said a moment later and looked at him.

"Tactical. You've got to be kidding me." Those words were coming out of his mouth, but deep inside, his reaction was immediate: a quickening of his pulse, a tightening in his chest. Tactical medicine. Langdon. Field support, law enforcement, special ops; chosen by Langdon, who had nothing good to say about his time with the armed forces and had gotten out on a stretcher.

"Robby?"

"Hm?" He focused on Gloria, too late to catch what she had asked him.

"He said you'd be glad to see him go." She looked at him, crossing her arms in front of her in that off-putting way she had. "Is that why he's been on night shifts half the time since he got back? Did you make a mistake letting him come back? Because the PHP agreed to let him do that with a few stipulations."

"No," Robby looked at his hands, at the screen, around to see if anyone was close. "No, I didn't. I just-"

I don't know if I want you working in my ER.

That was what he'd said. And Frank, who wanted to make up for what he'd broken, had taken it to heart. Robby opened up the envelope and pulled the papers out. Surely, there had to be a date somewhere—a date when that fool had decided to go ahead with this dumb fucking idea—even though he already knew what he would see.

He knew what the day was before he found it and had that feeling confirmed a moment later, because of course it was the day after. Of course, Langdon would charge ahead immediately, on the fifth of July, check what was open, anything that would take him out of Robby's ER. He'd always been quick to please.

Something ugly reared its head inside Robby; something ugly and hateful, directed at himself. It came out as a laugh when all he wanted to do was find Langdon and tell him not to do this. To think about it.

But who was he to take this chance away from Langdon when he'd already fucked him on the last one.

Someone stepped up to the counter of the hub, clearly waiting for him to acknowledge them. He looked up and found Whitaker with a tablet, eager and ready, the way he always was. And suddenly, Robby felt ten pounds heavier and ten years older. He scrubbed over the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

He dismissed the intern with a "Go find Mohan, yeah?"

Whitaker was taken aback for a moment, but then he nodded quickly, stepping back and moving with the flow, redirected easily and without complaint. He was good that way; at being directed. He sometimes looked at Robby like he knew. But then, he probably did know—that he was a stand-in for all the things Robby couldn't make up for with Langdon anymore.

"He's an eager one," Gloria commented. "Sure looks like you've got a new—"

"No, I don't," Robby cut her off. All he had was four years of failing Langdon and now trying to fix that by treating the new batch of residents the way he should have treated his protégé. The thing was, though, he couldn't fix one relationship by improving others. He knew that. Some part of him knew that.

He shuffled through the pages to get to the marked one that he had to sign. He looked at the line, at the way out that Langdon was offering him. Because that was what he was doing: offering a way out. Taking himself off the roster for weeks at a time to let Robby have his ER back without his presence in it. Letting him work on his staff by removing the reminder of the broken relationship that Robby didn't have the energy to repair.

He clicked his pen and rested his hand on the page and… stilled. He put it aside again. "I'll send it up to you as soon as I've read it, alright?"

Gloria took a breath. "Today."

"I'll send it up today," he promised.

"I want it signed. I want things to go back to normal. It's so goddamn tense in here." Gloria looked at him then at someone who was coming in behind Robby. "Dana, make sure he signs this today."

Dana looked between the two of them, caught off guard. "I'll… see what I can do," she replied, keeping it vague, ready to defend him before knowing what was going on.

Gloria poked a finger at him. "I'll come get it myself if you don't have it up by five." With that, she turned on her heels and moved further down the hall, with a determined speed in her step.

"You do that," Robby murmured after her.

Dana sat down heavily next to him. "You look unhappy. Shift's barely started and you're already frowning." Her eyes wandered to where Gloria had disappeared to. "But then, she tends to have that effect on people."

"It's nothing," Robby said. This was nothing; just everything: a setback, an escape, a way forward, an excuse, an abandonment, a flight.

"If you say so. Also, I've got a complainer in South twelve if you're up for it."

Robby took a deep breath and logged out; he was done here anyway. He turned towards her and got up. "A complainer?"

Dana handed him a chart. "Someone wants to be seen by a real doctor, not a twelve-year-old."

Robby ran both hands over his face before taking the chart. "Sure. I'll be right there."

His mind wandered back to four years ago when Langdon and Collins had started out. They'd both been more mature, used to having to fight for respect. As far as Robby knew, no one had ever not trusted them to do the job right. Or maybe the full protective gear the pandemic had forced them into had commanded that respect for them.

"You okay?" Dana asked quietly.

"Of course I am." He shuffled the fellowship admission into his personal paper tray. This was his problem—to be dealt with later. He could deal with everything later.

On the way to the trauma bay Dana had indicated, he passed one which almost caused him to falter. Jack was still here.

Jack, in his street clothes, with crossed arms and looking as relaxed as he always did, talking to Langdon who was working on a patient.

Robby had to swallow the ugly feeling down that was digging into his chest. Because he knew Jack and he knew how excited he got. And he knew Langdon, the med nerd, who still had the energy to find joy in new things. And here was Jack, who knew all about tactical medicine, who went out with SWAT teams often enough, who was apparently aware of that fellowship, because why else would he be staying behind to talk to Langdon after his acceptance was confirmed?

The idea that Jack had talked to Langdon about this and not told Robby, was dizzying and upsetting. Jack, of all people, had apparently left him out of the loop on this.

Later. He could deal with everything later, even his feelings.

When he arrived at South twelve, he jerked the privacy curtain back and greeted his patient. "Good morning. What can I do for you?" Because if nothing else, he could focus on his patients who needed him.

When he returned to the hub two patients and one discharge later, Langdon was sitting at the computer, typing, copying data from his handwritten chart to the digital patient file. His leg was jittery, bouncing up and down.

Now was as good a moment as ever. Robby sat down in the other chair and wheeled himself closer. "So."

Langdon jerked towards him. "Robby. I'm sorry, I didn't know they'd…" He trailed off, shrugged. "I thought they'd let me know first if I even qualified, what with being in the PHP and… still an R4."

Robby just looked at him. At the way he seemed to expect a reprimand.

Where had this relationship gone so wrong? Was it before those ten months? Had he always reacted so badly to mistakes that his people cowed when they made one? Or was it just Langdon in particular, who had ground himself to the bone trying to never disappoint Robby? Probably the latter; he remembered plenty of times when Mohan or McKay talked back.

"Well, it's approved now," he said, waving the apology away, and leaned forward to reach into the paper tray he'd stuffed those papers in. He understood why Langdon wouldn't tell him first, that was the uncomfortable truth. With the way he had behaved towards his resident, he understood.

Langdon followed the movement, watching.

"Are you sure about this?" Robby asked. "This is what you want?"

Langdon took a breath. "I know that I can't do this anymore." He gestured around them, ending with his hand waving between the two of them, back and forth. "You'll be happier. I'll be less of a wreck."

"What I said—"

Langdon shook his head, interrupting him by leaning in. "It's your right to not want me here." He nodded to himself. "I can't undo what I did, but I can do this."

Robby wanted to say that it wasn't true, but the words didn't come out. He shook his head instead. "This is not the Medical Education fellowship." There were two other fellowship he thought would suit Langdon more. Pediatric emergency medicine would've been a good fit, too.

"I'll still be teaching," Langdon said. "Here, I mean." He tapped the papers between them. "But this… it's something new, you know? Maybe that's a good thing."

Robby took a pen. "Does Abbot know?" he asked, even though he could guess the answer. The way Jack had stood with Langdon earlier, the way he had smiled—proud; he'd looked proud.

"Abbot recommended it. Recommended me to them, really." Langdon shrugged. "He knows me from the night shift, from that MCI. He's seen me work traumas." He didn't have to say that he had apparently made an impression; knowing how calm Langdon was under pressure and how flexible he was, that was a given. Robby also didn't doubt that Abbot had somehow smelled the military on Langdon. All of them always did, recognizing their own from the way they stood and walked.

"I do trust you, you know that, right?" Robby searched Langdon's eyes to see if that was landing.

It didn't seem to, not really; because Langdon laughed it off. "You should. You trained me. You taught me everything I know. You and Abbot and Dana." He tipped his head down, rubbing at something on the desk, smile dropping from one second to the next.

"I'm signing this," Robby said and leafed through the sheets to get to the last page. He put his hand down, pen poised and ready. "But you come to me or Abbot if… if you need to talk or break it off or… if there's anything." Because he had to start taking care of Langdon at some point, why not now when it was almost too late. At the very least, he couldn't fuck things up more than he already had.

In their periphery he became aware of Santos and Whitaker standing together and talking. He asked them every day how they were doing and yet he couldn't bring himself to do the same with the one person who he'd cared for for the past six years.

He resolutely signed on the line, coming close to scratching the paper with how forcefully he put his name down.

Done.

Done and done.

Langdon's shoulders sagged.

Robby stuffed the papers into an envelope and wrote Gloria's name on it. Then he capped the pen and stared at his hand. He vaguely became aware of Frank thanking him and apologizing again and then getting up to… probably pick up his next patient.

When Robby looked up, he was gone and Dana was looking down at him. "You got what you wanted," she said, a challenge in her expression. "He'll be out of your hair."

 Robby nodded.

"That is what you wanted, right?"

Robby nodded again. Sure.

"For what it's worth," Dana continued, more quietly, between the two of them, "It might be a chance to rebuild your relationship with him. From another angle, with more distance. If you don't see him every day…" She sighed. "And…"

When she didn't say anything else, he looked up at her. "Hm?" There was something on her mind that she wanted to say. He didn't want her to hold back now, not when he was ready to hear it.

She shook her head. "Never mind. But you used to be friends. Remember that. You were close." The emphasis wasn't lost on him.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Langdon had slept in his guest room for about three months back in 2020. Robby huffed at the memory of those evenings on the couch. Of eating dinner together, playing chess, going to work. They'd gotten close back then. Close enough that Robby had missed Langdon when he moved out. He hadn't been glad to have the house back to himself, contrary to what he'd said back then.

Oh, don't pretend, Robby. You'll be sad to see me go.

Langdon had been right. And Robby had never had the balls to admit it.

Robby had the following day off and came in late the day after. The next time he saw Jack was seven at night, two days later.

"Hey, you," Jack rumbled as he leaned against the counter. Robby gave up on charting and propped his chin up on one hand to look up.

Jack hadn't shaved again, which made him looked rugged and all the more handsome.

"What's going on with you?" Jack asked and looked down at him with his sideways smile.

"Nothing much."

Behind Jack, Langdon arrived for his night shift, throwing a greeting at the hub like he always did. Robby followed him to the locker room with his eyes. Two more night shifts before he'd go off on his first fellowship rotation. Then Robby wouldn't see him for at least three weeks.

When he tore his eyes away from Langdon's back, he saw that Jack had followed his gaze.

"He'll work with Hernandez. Remember him?" Jack asked with a smile in his voice. "You met him at that conference. I introduced you."

Robby remembered. "He was in MSF, too, wasn't he?"

"That's him," Jack confirmed. "Good guy, good teacher. Intense." He tipped his head to the side. "What are you thinking?"

"About you getting shot when you were with SWAT back in July."

Jack's eyes widened before they softened. "Robby…"

"I know. I know that's not the norm. I'm allowed to worry."

"What's this about?"

Robby ran a hand over his face. Fuck this. Fuck the honesty hour his therapist drilled into him at every meeting. "You know what happened to him. He got out once. I already worry about you. I don't want to have to worry about him, too."

Jack sighed. "I think it will be a good fit for him. He's good at this. He keeps a cool head. He knows his way around guns. He thinks on his feet."

Robby nodded. "I know."

"Besides. The way you two dance around each other now… a little distance might do you some good. He'll get his confidence back, you'll… I don't know. Maybe realize that he's been working really hard on becoming someone you can be damn proud of."

Jack saw too much, Robby thought. He didn't like all that insight one bit. Alright. "Want to have dinner this weekend?" he asked to derail the conversation.

Jack's gaze seemed to look deep into him. Robby held against it and let himself be read. A distraction. And he didn't want to be alone. When Jack finally answered, his voice was a promise. "I'd like that."

Robby looked around before leaning closer. He kept his voice low. "Just you and me and a bottle of chianti."

"You sure know how to show a guy a good time," Jack flirted back before pushing off the hub to look up at the monitors above him. "Alright, let me have it, how bad is it?"

Shop talk, that he could do as well.

That night, he went home and started cleaning up in the garage. A few months ago, in a fit of motivation, he'd gone and bought a heavy-duty rack for the back wall, but had never gotten around to installing it.

Two hours later, he was sweaty and his back hurt, and he was cold from the low temperature in the garage, but the rack stood.

Looking at it, he wondered why he hadn't done that months ago.

He knew why. Months ago, he'd been on his way out. Months ago, he'd been planning his way out, just him and the motorcycle and an unfortunate accident far away from the PTMC.

He put the hammer on one of the shelves and took a step back.

The motorcycle stood in the corner, covered with a sheet, out of sight and out of mind, forgotten with the promise he wouldn't ride it for a while.

He turned the lights off as he went back inside and went to find his phone. Maybe another appointment would be good.

* * *

After Langdon had left on the first leg of his fellowship, things changed in the ED; in a different way than how they had changed during his first absence.

He had now been back for two months and people had gotten used to the new, calmer version. Especially since even being stomped on a little and ousted by Robby, he'd been just as energetic as he had always been; a team player, a teacher, capable and good at his job. But also more empathetic now, more honest with his moods.

It turned out that any version of Langdon gone left a hole, but this new Langdon especially.

Robby wanted to be glad that Langdon was away for long periods of time, off to Baltimore or wherever those training courses took him. Finally, he could breathe easily again. Finally, the department was fully his again, without that specter, not just on days when Langdon was on the night shift. Yet, for some reason, it felt like this time, Langdon had left him specifically.

Robby had been angry for ten months before Langdon's return; had rebuilt his motorcycle, let the anger fester inside him. He had let it all out when Langdon returned. And now? Langdon's absence now was directly because of Robby's failure to deal with his return in a normal way. And for some reason, everyone seemed to be aware that Robby didn't like that one bit.

Robby looked around the floor. Behind him, in North ten, Mohan was talking to a patient. He was listening in from where he stood outside the bay, because he needed to know if she'd taken his advice the other day. With Langdon gone, she was senior leadership. It grated that she wasn't what Robby had in mind when he thought of that position. He needed someone faster, someone who made decisions, someone who got the board moving. Someone who averaged six patients an hour, not two. He'd take a lower patient satisfaction score over an overrunning waiting room any day.

Having heard enough and before he got impatient just listening to her empathic handling of that patient, he took a step away. She was good, he reminded himself. She was just different than him. Looking around, he saw that Santos and King were working on a patient together, something that had been working well as King did her best to hold Santos back when necessary. Although it was a little bit like letting a little kid walk one of those bulky muscle dogs. The control was an illusion; the dog would do what it wanted and just pull the little kid along. And then the adults had to step in to fix things.

Robby tilted his head back. What a crappy metaphor. What was wrong with him.

Whitaker stepped up next to him. "Anything I can do?"

"Yeah, your job," slipped out before Robby could hold it back. Jesus, what was it with his temper today. "Sorry," he apologized a moment later. He scrubbed over his head and brushed his beard down. "Sorry. That was unnecessary. It's not you."

Whitaker's smile was more a grimace than anything else. "I know." Too understanding.

Robby looked at his intern, wondering how much he was giving away.

"Langdon will be back in a week," Whitaker said, like that was supposed to be a comfort.

"Is that so?"

"I mean. You… I—" Whitaker broke off halfway through that thought. Whatever he wanted to say, he wrangled back so fiercely that the tendons in his throat strained. "I'm sorry. I should be going. Do my job and all that."

Once Whitaker had left and Robby started a round through the department, he gave himself a moment to feel the absence. No snappy comebacks, no badly timed jokes, no tension; Langdon being gone made the ER quieter. Just like it was when Langdon was working nights.

No difference at all.

Robby ran a hand over his face. This was great. No one grated on his nerves. Robby didn't have to constantly hold himself back. He didn't have to double check things, didn't have to be suspicious of anything. He didn't have to constantly wait for something bad to happen—which usually made him mad, because nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Suddenly, staring into space, he realized Dana was trying to get his attention. It jolted him forward and he joined her at the hub. "What's up?"

"You're being spacey. Everything alright?"

"Just… contemplating."

"Sounds serious. How about you grab a coffee, get back into orbit. I need you awake for another four hours."

"Is it quieter today?" he asked.

Dana made a face like she knew exactly what he was thinking. How could she, when not even he knew?

"You only realize that now, huh?" She crossed her arms. "Well, think about why that is. And think about why it bothers you. And then talk to Abbot about it, because I have no patience for that bullshit."

"Harsh," he murmured. "What do you need?"

Dana shoved a chart at him. "South nine. Jesse is already there."

* * *

Things got better between them after that. When Langdon came in for his shifts now, he took up more space in a different way. After a few times working together, Robby realized he wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop anymore. He wasn't expecting things to go wrong; rather, the opposite. He felt like he could relax again.

He sent his residents to Langdon often enough that they started going to him directly. It felt good. They were getting a smooth, solid rhythm back. Langdon became, once again, the support system Robby could count on during the day shift; someone solid, who would take over quietly, who stayed calm, who didn't shout for help until he needed it. Someone who quietly taught and explained, who kept an eye on patients, who checked and fixed things if necessary.

It made Langdon's absence all the more obvious when the fellowship or the night shift took him away from the day shift.

"Your phone's been ringing," Santos told him the next time he passed the nurses' station. "Or… vibrating or whatever."

"Oh?"

She said nothing else, but there was something in her eyes that made him check the display. She had to have seen who the caller was.

Langdon.

Three missed calls.

Langdon, who had just come off a night shift and had left earlier with a jaunty "Bye" on his way to Baltimore.

Robby called back immediately.

"Robby." The relief was palpable in Langdon's voice.

"What's up?"

"I… my dog sitter is sick. Everyone else is booked. The usual daycare, too. I called everybody." Langdon trailed off after that, there was some noise in the background, then a heavy sigh.

"Langdon, if you want me to dog sit, you're actually going to have to ask me."

"Please. Robby. I don't know who else to call."

Robby looked around. Didn't Langdon have any friends? Had his wife gotten everyone in their circle in the… whatever it was they were currently doing? And what about Abby herself?

He caught Santos watching him out of the corner of her eyes, curious as always. She'd given up any pretense that she was here to catch up on charting. Princess was arranging a paper tray that didn't need arranging, staying within ear shot.

"Eight?" Robby asked before he could think about saying no for too long. "My place, at eight. And bring pizza. And everything that dog needs. I have nothing at home that would make a good chew toy."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Robby tilted his head back. "Don't thank me yet."

After he'd disconnected the call, he looked at Santos and Princess—and Perlah who had appeared out of nowhere. "What are you guys looking at." His tone sounded desert dry, even to himself.

Princess smiled at him. "Good," she said apropos of nothing with some sort of meaningful smile that meant nothing to Robby, but was seemingly completely understood and agreed with by Santos and Perlah. "I mean, charts. I have to go."

"What about you? Don't you have patients?" Robby asked Santos directly, who shook her head hastily and got up.

"I do now. Perlah?"

He watched them leave in the direction of the waiting room. They cost him, these gossips. He looked down at his phone to see a text from Frank. A picture of the dog with the worst puppy dog eyes ever, boring directly into the camera. The speech bubble below said 'tysm.'

Robby put the phone away and realized… he didn't even know the name of the damn thing.

He finished his shift and was greeted at six forty-five by a grinning Jack Abbot.

"Heard you've got a second job lined up."

Robby puffed out a breath, short of scoffing. "Yeah? Where'd you hear that?"

"Langdon called me, asked if I'd dog sit or if I knew someone."

"And you what, suggested me?"

Jack gave a little half shrug that was a definite admission.

"I usually don't allow pets," Robby said, remembering with some reluctance that half-baked conversation he'd had with Whitaker back in July. No pets, no babies, no planned return; he'd offered without thinking, in the middle of a panicked plan to call it quits.

Jack snorted. "Yeah, right." He blew out a breath. "Anyway. I'll come stay with you guys," he promised quietly, with a lascivious touch. "Help out."

That mollified Robby. "You will?" He cleared his throat. "Including naked yoga?" he asked, because it was on his mind now.

Jack nodded. "It'll be fun. We'll scandalize your neighbors a little." He slid closer. "You mad you were second choice?"

Given that he and Langdon were only slowly getting reacquainted, testing the waters with civil conversation, Robby shook his head. He unlocked his phone and showed Jack the picture. "There. Your new best friend," he said instead.

Jack cooed at the picture. "What's her name? His?"

"I'll find out both of those things in," Robby looked at his watch. "About an hour."

"He's bringing the little thing to yours?"

Robby nodded. He put his phone away and pushed at the counter. "I asked him to bring pizza, too."

He noticed the change in Jack's behavior, the surprise, the softening of his grin. He put a hand on Robby's back. "Yeah?"

Robby nodded. "I thought…" He couldn't deal with that look of approval and encouragement from Jack.

"I get it," Jack said and turned into him, shielding their conversation. "I get that it's hard."

Robby wanted to deny that. It wasn't hard to take care of a dog that had nowhere to go if it helped his… resident out.

"I get that you need time," Jack continued.

"It's different now," Robby said, giving Jack that much.

"With him gone?" Jack didn't bother to wait for an answer, he just pushed forward. "I hope you have a good talk over dinner." Then he grinned. "Say hi from me."

"Sure." They both knew he wouldn't. Robby ran a hand through his beard, brushing the bristles down. "I'll see you here tomorrow morning. Bright and early."

"Try to keep it down with the dog hair."

Robby groaned. He hadn't thought of dog hair. Good thing he was thinking about renovating. "Can I still say no?"

Jack laughed. "I'm afraid it's too late now."

"Well, I had better get going." He wanted some time for himself before Langdon came over. Because for all the faults Robby wanted to see in the guy, being late wasn't one of them.

He left, took a detour to get ice cream and, on a whim, doggy treats, and was home by seven forty, just in time to lie down on the couch and regret his life choices for twenty minutes.

When the doorbell rang at eight, he wasn't any more prepared for this than he had been an hour ago. He wasn't even ready to see Langdon—who seemed to think exactly that when Robby opened the door.

He scrunched his nose up with a wonky smile and flapped the hand holding the leash. At his feet, the dog did a complicated dance of getting up and sitting down and getting up again and straining forward and trying to nose at Robby's pants.

"Hey," Langdon said, followed by "I said sit." He was holding two pizza boxes. Everything that was supposed to be for the dog had already been carried from the car to the patio. His oversized Land Rover was sitting in the driveway, reverse parked as always.

Robby took all of that in before looking back at Langdon.

"Hey, you two." He stepped to the side. "Come on in."

"You're a lifesaver," Langdon began. "I can't thank you enough. I wasn't even sure… but Abbot said… Thank you."

The dog seemed to sense his nerves, because it looked between the two expectantly, a little unsure.

"I said yes," Robby said. "It's alright."

"I brought pizza."

"I can see that." Robby reached out to take the pizza boxes from Langdon's hands. "Let me take those and you can show the dog around."

His stomach growled appreciatively when he took the boxes. When he turned to go into the kitchen, he didn't expect Langdon to just drop the leash and let the dog follow him. Nails clacked on the floor behind him, the leash swished over the floor. When he looked, Langdon was out on the patio gathering the big, fluffy dog bed in his arms. A sliver of skin showed above his boxer shorts as the T-shirt rode up with the movement. Robby looked away quickly.

"Well, better get acquainted then," Robby said to the dog. It wagged its tail at him—not as enthusiastically as young dogs usually did, he thought. Weren't goldendoodles supposed to be excitable?

"What's his name anyway?" Robby called out.

"Tanner named him Dog."

"I'm sorry?"

"Dog." Langdon walked past him with the dog bed in his arms and a look that begged Robby not to ask. "I know," he added.

"That's a mess and a half. How does he distinguish between his name and just… being the dog?"

Langdon let out a groan. "It's… I don't know. It's in the intonation. It works most of the time."

Dog nosed at the bottom of Robby's cupboards. He certainly didn't seem to think he was being addressed.

"I'll just put it here?" Langdon said, walking towards the spot between the couch and the television set. "You can put it wherever later."

Robby decided to table questioning the naming of the dog. Mostly because he realized that while the name was a mess, Langdon had been, too, back then. He probably hadn't wanted to say no to Tanner. He'd probably known in some way that he needed to make up for what was happening. That, and it wasn't Robby's problem for more than three weeks.

"Are you bringing dirty laundry?" Robby asked when he saw Langdon draping what looked like am unwashed T-shirt over the dog bed.

Langdon pulled his shoulders up. "Smells like me. In case he— you know." In case the dog missed him. Robby had to turn around. Because it sure as hell reminded him of the hoodie Dana had pulled off one of the chairs at the hub a week after Langdon had left for Baltimore last time, grumbling about residents on fellowships leaving their shit lying around and how the nurses' station was not a collection of used clothes. Still, she hadn't put it in the lost and found, as threatened, but she'd put it aside and a few weeks later, it had been gone; returned to its owner. Robby knew because he'd kept an eye on it.

"I get it," he said and watched as the dog trailed over to Langdon.

"Where do you want me to put the dog food?"

"Leave it by the door. I'll figure it out later." He filled two glasses with water and took them to the dining room table where he'd already set down the pizza boxes. "You need a plate?"

Langdon shook his head and took a seat. "I'll give you the number of the sitter and the daycare. Once the sitter is well again or the daycare has a spot, you can drop him off. You don't have to do this for three weeks."

"It's okay. If I didn't want to help out, I wouldn't have said yes," Robby promised, even if he had no idea what he was getting himself into. He eyed the dog. "He seems well behaved."

"He'll thaw once he's gotten to know you. And you have a yard. By the time I get back, he'll have dug a tunnel system."

Robby groaned and palmed his chin, eyeing his yard. He hadn't thought of that either. Dog hair all over the place, a dug-up garden, probably muddy paw prints everywhere; he was looking at three very long weeks.

"He'll be out there like the Viet Cong," Langdon added.

Robby couldn't hold back the snort that escaped at that image. "Should've told me I had to expect trench warfare in my backyard."

"Then you might've said no," Langdon joked, quickly and freely. He'd been holding back with Robby the past few months since the fourth. Joking around like they used to, it was easy to forget that there was such a distance between them now.

They ate quietly, until Langdon hit the half-way mark with his pizza and shoved the box away. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned in. "So. Everything you need to know is in the booklet. All the phone numbers, everything that's toxic for dogs. What he eats and how much. There's money in an envelope that should cover everything. If it doesn't, let me know." He leaned on his arm and looked down at dog. "He's a little weirdo. He likes walks. He's clingy sometimes. He'll lick your feet, so put on socks."

"A little weirdo?" Robby asked.

"Yeah." Langdon didn't look at him. He stayed the way he was, his cheek propped up on his hand, watching the dog, who had moved into the dog bed of his own volition, with an absentminded smile. "Just… a little weird."

Robby nodded. Maybe the dog took after its owner, who was sometimes a little weird, too. He breathed in deeply and caught himself watching Langdon watch his dog. The strands of hair tickling at his ear, the heavy-lidded eyes. He looked tired.

"You like the fellowship?" Robby asked carefully.

"It's good, yeah." Langdon shifted just enough to switch his focus from the dog to Robby. He smiled up at him. "I think I'm good at it."

There was so much Robby wanted to say. He wanted to tell Langdon that he'd always been good under pressure, that he never let up, that he didn't lose his cool easily. He'd shown that he was an excellent doctor during the Pittfest shooting, saving a number of lives. Mohan had told Robby about the podcast thing he'd so effortlessly realized without ever having seen the procedure done. He was a great doctor. He thought on his feet.

But Robby also remembered the way he had behaved towards Langdon on his first days back and the way he'd pushed in all the wrong ways. He'd fucked up those first couple of shifts together and he knew that any praise he gave now would be worthless.

So, instead, he just smiled and nodded. "You know you are."

Langdon smiled; an honest smile under heavy eyelids. It made Robby want to apologize for all the shitty things he'd said and done since Langdon's return. Maybe they could get past that with a little more time. Maybe offering to dog sit, despite their estranged relationship, was a way to apologize in a different way.

"I should get going," Langdon finally said and pushed himself up. Sitting up straight again, he blinked rapidly to shake the lethargy off. "I've got a four-hour drive ahead of me tomorrow."

"Baltimore again?"

"Yeah. One week Baltimore, then two weeks practical training at JBA. Then one week here. I'll call ahead once I know when I'm driving back."

"The dog and I will get along just fine."

"I hope so. If you don't, you know… the daycare's an option."

Robby nodded, thinking of the doggy treats he'd bought earlier. Of Jack, who was ready to stay for three weeks to share the sitting duty. Of his secret weapon, the neighborhood dog walker. "Swimmingly."

They did an intricate dance cleaning up, putting the glasses away, straightening the chairs, sorting out the pizza boxes. They'd done this almost every evening for a few months, five years ago. They slotted right into the old rhythm.

Afterwards, Langdon left him to wipe down the table and the counter to say bye to the dog.

Robby saw him out, watched him drive off in his oversized monstrosity, before closing the door. Alone with the dog food and toys next to the door, he slumped.

In all of this—the fellowship, Langdon's long absences, this new, quiet way of talking to Robby, the way he held back—it was hard to remember why he'd been so spitting angry for all of those months.

Maybe forgiveness and anger came in waves, the same way grief did.

He leaned against the door. Nails clacked on the floor and then Dog looked around the corner, searching; already missing his human.

"Yeah, me, too," Robby told him.

With a groan he pushed himself off the front door and took the bag Langdon had brought for the dog. He brought it with him to the mud room out back, to where the washing machine stood. He'd been meaning to tidy up in here, too. Maybe install a shelf unit above the washer and the dryer, a counter to put things on. Do something with that washbasin.

That would be next.

"I'll put these in here," he told Dog and fished out one dog toy that seemed well-loved, a soft, yellow bunny plushie. He held it out and felt he'd made the right choice when the dog took it gingerly and plopped himself down, expectantly.

"What do you think?" he asked the dog and took a step back to take in that whole side of the room. "We could make the washbasin large enough to fit you and your muddy paws."

Dog seemed to understand at least the word 'paws' because he shifted and moved one underneath his body. The fur above his eyebrows waggled when he looked at Robby again. He heaved a big sigh, before plopping his head down on the plushie.

"That's how we're spending the evening, is it? Watching me do some DIY."

He went into the kitchen where he grabbed something to write and a tape measure. It couldn't be that hard to install a counter. Surely, with some help from someone at Home Depot and a video or two, he'd get this done easily.

The mud room turned into a project. Two weeks later he knew a few people at Home Depot by their first names and had subscribed to a new channel on YouTube that taught him everything he needed to know about tiling and building a counter.

The dog was adamant about helping Robby with his project. Some days he stuck to Robby like glue and poked his nose into everything, other days he lay in the doorway, chewing on Bunny and watching.

Jack made admiring noises when he saw the progress of the mud room and thought it was great that the washing machine and the dryer were temporarily housed in the kitchen, where he could reach both easily with the wheelchair. This led to the project being expanded to widening the doorframe of the mud room.

And Gloria was eager and happy to approve a few vacation days, given that he usually set such a horrendous example for his staff.

His therapist sounded excited—as excited as that man's voice ever got—to see him take time off and work on something other than his motorcycle. He was very pleased with Robby lately, although not enough to reduce the number of sessions per month. "Not quite yet, Michael," he said when Robby brought it up. That was the thing, though, even talking to his therapist was going better these days. He was relieved that finally, this one seemed to stick.

When the mud room project was done, Robby had gotten a taste for home renovations and an odd appreciation for the color light sage green.

Relationship-improvement. Home-improvement. Self-improvement.

* * *

A bird hopped across the lawn towards Robby. When it registered he was there, sitting on the porch, it flew off startled and screeching, even though he hadn't moved more than his head.

He really needed to trim those bushes, he realized when he let his gaze wander down the street—expectantly, like Jack would arrive the moment he looked that way. Nothing. An unfamiliar car drove past. Another. Robby crossed his arms and rested them on his drawn-up knees.

He would also need to get that neighbor kid to trim the lawn more regularly, maybe do a little more than that. There were weeds growing between the bricks leading up to the doorway. He never noticed those things when he left the house or came home. Only now, sitting on the step, with nothing else to do, did he realize just how little he did around the outside of the house.

Maybe he only noticed because he was now trying to do more inside the house. The mud room project was now done, with a new set of tiles on the floor and halfway up the wall and the new washer dryer set-up. He'd even put a large freezer in the corner so he could get a larger fridge in the kitchen. He was trying to make his house more appealing to himself and to others, which was half the reason he and Jack were doing something today. The other half was the vague on-again status their relationship had—something they had both decided without much fanfare.

Robby ducked his head and ran a hand through his hair. He'd tell Jack what had happened, he'd send him home, and they'd do this another day.

Finally, Jack's familiar car came down the street, just that little bit over the speed limit he could get away with if he got pulled over.

Robby could see the question between Jack's eyebrows from where he was sitting on the porch; the car hadn't even fully come to a stop yet and he could already guess what Jack was thinking… just from the way his mouth was curled up. Surprised amusement, he read. Robby gave a little wave that was responded with a similarly small raising of fingers against the steering wheel.

Jack parked in his usual spot, in the shade underneath the large maple tree whose branches stretched all the way to the curb. He got out of the car, crutches clattering against the door loudly enough to make Robby wince, and then he just stopped by the driver's door. Holding his position for just a moment before slowly coming up the driveway. Clearly entertained by what he was seeing, he tipped his chin at Robby. "What's this, a welcoming committee?"

"Yeah. Just about." Robby ran a hand over his face. Of all the days. He curled his fingers against his chin and propped himself up. The bristles of his beard dug into the soft skin of his palm.

Jack seemed to deliberately take his time coming over, examining Robby and the grocery bags sitting on the stone next to him as he was doing so. Finally, he stopped in front of Robby. "So."

Robby sighed. "You don't happen to know how to pick a lock?"

A laugh escaped Jack. "You serious?"

"I was already using the spare key because the other one is…" Instead of trying to find words, he made a vague hand gesture. It was somewhere. "And the electric lock isn't working at the moment. And then I left to do the groceries and just… forgot… that." Embarrassment curled hot around his ears. "I was busy, thinking of three things at once, I wasn't-"

Jack huffed. "Looks more like you weren't thinking," he teased.

Robby raised his cell phone, waggling it between his fingers. "If you don't know how, I've already found a company."

"This happening for the first time?"

Robby shrugged. Not quite. Not the first time, but the first time without that particular solution available. He tugged his shoulders up, dialed the number of the closest locksmith and raised the phone to his ear. He met Jack's look evenly and ignored the curious spark in them.

No answer.

He picked another company. "We could just… postpone."

"We could break in?" Jack looked at the windows. "Is everything locked down? Every window closed?"

"Almost—" Suddenly, someone picked up on the other hand and he raised a hand to excuse himself as he greeted the employee on the other end. "Are you available right now? I locked myself out and-" A busy voice interrupted him mid-sentence, giving him an estimate of two hours. "Two hours?" he repeated. Fuck. His eyes locked with Jack's. An unhappy, scrunched up nose was his answer.

Their food would be a melted, soggy mess by then. The steaks wouldn't keep that long in this weather; it was too warm for late October. He let his shoulders drop. "Yeah- I'll text you my address. Thanks."

As he lowered the phone, Jack groaned. "You should give me a spare key. Or keep one in your locker."

"I will. As soon as we get to it." As soon as he found the actual key. And he wouldn't touch the damn spare until absolutely necessary. And he'd put it right back so he wouldn't be tempted to keep using it.

"My next question is, are your lounge chairs outside," Jack asked with a shake of his head. He lifted the bag in his hand. "Too bad we can't really do this at mine."

"We could." Not really.

Jack rolled his eyes up. "C'mon. At least we're spending the day together." He grinned down at Robby. "The beers are still cold."

Robby lazily blinked back and nodded. There was that. A day spent with someone who knew him so well he didn't have to pretend.

"So, what did you do last time?" Jack asked and shifted. He half pointed towards the backyard. "Tell me while we check if you locked your sun loungers away, too."

"They're… in the garage," Robby replied as he got up. The locked garage.

"Fuck me." Jack laughed and followed him around the side of the house. "Today's not your day."

On the side of the house, Robby stopped at the window to the cellar whose latch was broken. Maybe he could fit through. Maybe Jack could. Maybe it worked for one of them, too, not just for someone slimmer.

"What's that?" Jack asked and stopped with Robby.

Robby looked over his shoulder as he crouched down. "The latch is broken. This is… if I could fit through here."

"Who did you get to squeeze in there last time?" Jack asked and bent over to look past Robby's shoulder. His shadow covered Robby and the window. It was a really small window, a too tight fit. And there was a drop. And Robby was aware he wasn't answering.

"Robby?"

"Never mind. It's not an option." Something inside him protested that it was an option. After all, he'd just dog sat for the guy; he was definitely allowed to ask for favors, too.

"Who? Robby?" By the sound of Jack's voice, he had already guessed. He'd seen the window and gone through the people Robby knew and he'd come across the one candidate who'd do something stupid like squeeze through there and probably laugh about it.

"Guess," Robby ground out. Fuck. He knew people, but only few of them would fit through that window. He could probably get the neighbor kid who mowed the lawn to do it, but he didn't want just anyone to go through his house. And he really didn't want a nosy teenager to know his house had a weak spot.

Suddenly, he heard the faint tooting sound of a waiting phone call. He jerked around. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Langdon," Jack said, both crutches tucked under one armpit, leaning against them casually.

"He's got the day off."

Jack nodded. "Exactly." Suddenly, he grinned, mid gesture at his phone. "Hold your horses, I'm not calling you in," he told Langdon instead of a greeting. He bent down and pressed the button that put the other man on speaker.

"—good because I wouldn't be able to. I've got it all."

Jack groaned in sympathy. "Sorry to hear that, brother. Fever and everything?"

"Everything," Langdon reiterated.

Only now did Robby remember that Langdon had gotten his flu shot yesterday before leaving work. They all did at the moment, using their off time to deal with any after effects. Robby's own appointment was next week and he was not looking forward to it. Jack had gotten the vaccine the week before and bitched about it at hand off the day after.

"You up for a trip anyway or would you rather not?" While the question was sincere, Jack eyed Robby with the self-satisfied look of someone who already knew the answer he'd get—and that Robby wouldn't enjoy it.

"Depends on what you need. I've got a fever, chills, a headache. But I need to go outside anyway or… at least the dog does."

"Great," Jack said. "I've got a job for you and a yard for Dog."

"I won't be great company, though," Langdon hedged, like he expected that to change Jack's mind.

Jack hummed. "You're barely good company on a regular day, so…"

"Hah hah," Langdon huffed and cursed in the background. When he spoke again, his voice was tight. "This is ridiculous. From the vaccine, man, not even the real thing. Anyway. What do you need?"

Robby was more than a little taken aback by the familiarity between the two. Sure, Langdon had been on the night shift for a while, and he changed more often between day and night now that he was doing his fellowship. Still. Robby couldn't put his finger on it. This was something else. Something different and unexpected.

"Come over to Robby's?"

That made Langdon hesitate, as expected. They were better now but, with the exception of that one dog drop-off, nowhere near going to each other's places. "Robby's?"

"Yeah. Robby knows. I heard you're good at breaking in?"

Robby was afraid of the reaction that would get, but all Langdon said was a genuinely sympathetic "Oh, no." There was a soft, empathetic amusement in his voice that made Robby itch to smile as well.

"Yeah," Robby finally found his voice, because it felt silly to stay quiet on the line like this. He and Frank were on okay terms again. They were good. Robby was just trying not to bother Frank in his free time, that was all this was. "The electric lock wasn't working," he defended. Just like before; actually, this was almost exactly what had happened last time.

"I can be over in… fifteen, twenty minutes?"

"Thank you," Jack cheered sincerely. "And bring Dog and an appetite. We're having steaks." Before Frank could reply, Jack disconnected the call and turned to Robby. "That wasn't hard at all."

"For you. Also, 'we're having steaks'? 'We' are inviting Langdon now?"

Jack gestured with his phone. "You heard him. He's not doing too hot."

"He should be home and in bed then," Robby argued. "Not…" He tipped his chin vaguely at the window. "… doing this."

When Jack didn't say anything, Robby looked back, only to find Jack's eyes on his, sad and a little disappointed. "Robby, let him help." His voice was quiet and serious, the way it had gotten after the sabbatical debacle. "He wants to…"

Robby turned away. Things between him and Langdon were getting better, with the fellowship acting like a buffer between them. They were mending the wrongs they had done to each other. They were slowly moving towards a healthier partnership; one in which Langdon knew he didn't have to scrape himself hollow to please Robby and one in which Robby realized that he couldn't fix what he had missed with Langdon by helping everybody else but his protégé. That he had to specifically make things right with Langdon himself.

They were closer now than they had been, in a different way; more at eye level. Softer. With fewer expectations and more trust. Whatever their fight had eroded, it had worked like a forest fire: old, sick, and crookedly grown trees had burned down and a new, healthy forest was sprouting.

Still, he was trying not to ask too much of Langdon. He was trying to keep this new forest healthy.

He could hear Jack sigh behind him, but he stood his ground. He got up, hands on his knees. "Let's check the grill."

"Oh, so that's outside, yeah?" Jack complained behind him as he clacked with the crutches, following Robby.

"It's under a hood," Robby defended. He didn't have any weather protection for the lawn chairs, that was the reason they were inside. At the same time, he knew that the real reason was that the damn things hadn't been used in a year. He had been keeping busy.

"Hermit," Jack said quietly—under his breath in a way that made Robby think he wasn't even meant to hear it. "I love you. But you're a fucking hermit."

"Want to blow things off again?" Robby charged, head on. "We're barely on again, anyway."

"Jesus, calm down. I was just…" Jack sighed. "Alright. Let's have a look."

Jack stood by, hanging in the crutches like it was cool, while Robby uncovered the grill. "It looks good." Jack bent over and looked underneath. "Doesn't look like anything had babies in it at least."

Robby rolled his eyes. "That could happen in the garage, too." He hadn't checked on the sun loungers. A mouse having eaten its way through the seat cushions was a possibility.

"Mmhm," Jack hummed because obviously he was a critic today. "Let's wait at the gate. I want him to see you sitting there the way I did. That was a nice picture."

"Shut up."

Jack actually did and led the way to the front of the house—just in time for them to see Langdon's Defender Station Wagon pull up.

"What the hell is that," Jack murmured.

"You didn't know he drove that?" Robby asked quietly and a little pleased, even. Whatever he had felt earlier, about Jack and Langdon's relationship, was easier to banish now. He had known that Langdon drove that; hell, he'd caught him sleeping in it, too.

Jack hummed a negative. "I knew the brand, but I thought… a new one, you know?" He huffed. "No wonder I keep hearing about the trainees hitching rides from him."

Robby nodded, agreeing that it was not a vehicle he would have associated with Langdon either. He'd gotten his own rides home once or twice, although in the passenger seat; regular. The mention of the trainees stung—probably because it was something they shared without him and because of him.

"So that's where that doctor money is going," Jack said once Langdon had parked, loud enough for him to hear it through the open window, judging by the middle finger Langdon raised at them.

Robby watched every movement Langdon made. He took a breath. Frank. Frank, not Langdon. This wasn't work. This wasn't… what they usually had. This was more intimate, him asking for a favor in their spare time. Frank was accommodating him.

He should've used his first name when they had pizza together. Or when Frank had picked up Dog after three weeks, tired enough to slouch against the door frame, having driven straight to Robby's after a four-hour trip from Baltimore. He should've invited him in then, too.

He should be doing his part to close the distance. And today, that meant letting Frank help.

Frank seemed a little stiff, slower than usual. He was wearing a hoodie and a jacket; too many layers for a warm fall day like today. He got out of the car and slammed the door. In the back, Robby could see the dog's head lift up in its crate, swiveling to see what was going on.

"Hey," Frank greeted them both, eyes lingering on Robby for a moment too long. Robby stared right back.

"Thank you," he said belatedly.

"Any time," Frank replied softly. In the back, Dog barked. "Is it alright if I let him out?" he asked.

"Yeah, go ahead," Jack said without waiting for Robby. "It'll be a while. Wouldn't want him to get bored and… eat through the hull."

Frank tipped his head down, obviously trying to hide his amusement at the joke. "It's a good car. And he's a dog, not a Predator." Frank rounded the Defender to let the dog out. Freed from his prison in the back, Dog jumped out and bounded towards them. Frank followed more sedately.

Excitedly, Dog wagged his tail, crouching low, showing just how ready he was to be outside. He recognized Robby and Jack immediately, bouncing between them with his tail wagging.

When Frank stopped in front of them, he dropped his shoulders and exhaled deeply. "Thanks. It's nice to get some fresh air." Up close, he looked even paler. His thick-lidded, red-rimmed eyes burned fever bright as they bored into Robby's expectantly.

Jack looked between them. "Alright. I can't wait to see how this works, so let's go." Jack ushered them along with an inviting gesture and Robby let himself be ushered. He felt like a puppet, like he didn't know what to say without Jack there to mediate. He let himself be pushed along.

"I don't even remember which window it was," Frank murmured as they walked. The dog ran around and sniffed at everything, curious and excited. Occasionally he flitted towards Robby, sniffing at his pants, probably remembering that there had been treats coming from that particular pocket near his knee.

"This one," Robby said quietly and knelt down. He pushed the window in with a knock on the frame and held it open. "There's an old dresser to the side, or you can drop to the floor."

Frank kneeled down on the ground next to him with an almost inaudible groan. Robby remembered the stiffness from earlier, the joint pain that came with flu symptoms, the fever. Frank shouldn't be crawling around when he was sick.

Suddenly, there was a strong hand on his back. Robby looked up to see Jack shaking his head. Remembering Jack's earlier plea to let Frank help, to let him be useful in a different way than he was at work, kept Robby quiet. Maybe, in some twisted way, Frank thought he was repaying Robby for his dog sitting duty this way. He gave Jack a sign that he wouldn't say anything. The hand on his back rubbed. He turned back. "See?"

Dog pushed his head between them, wanting to get a peek at whatever they were looking at. Jack carefully pulled him away by the collar with a promise of something more interesting.

Frank unzipped his jacket and his hoodie and held both out to Robby, who took them. They smelled of laundry and Frank in a way that made something in Robby's chest clench. He knew that smell. The past one, two years hadn't erased that memory. The laundry detergent was different now that Abby wasn't buying it anymore, but the rest was the same. Robby's hand dug into the fabric, holding it tightly.

Frank turned around and shimmied back, looking behind him and carefully pushing at the window with his foot. "Good. Just like I remember."

He slid through the opening, inching backwards in a plank position, hips first until his legs dangled inside. His shoulders fit easily through the opening.

"This is easier than last time," he narrated as he shimmied through. "Maybe it's the practice."

Robby chose not to comment on what he believed to be the reason for that, but Jack wasn't as kind. "That's why you're getting a steak afterwards," he said under his breath, loud enough for Robby to hear, but it probably didn't carry to Langdon, who had just let himself drop to the ground inside the cellar.

"All good," he called up. "I'll come to the front door."

"You do that," Jack said, now directly over Robby's shoulder. Dog's nose brushed against the jacket and Robby's clothes curiously. The goldendoodle panted, watching the open window, probably waiting for Frank to come out again. Crowded in, Robby moved back onto his haunches to get these two curious cats to give him some space.

"Hello, you," Robby rumbled and patted Dog's head. "He'll be right back. Not like last time, promise."

Dog panted at him, clearly happy to be included. He stayed by Jack's side, seemingly remembering that there were limitations with the crutches. He was attentive, more than Robby would have given him credit for.

Jack clacked his tongue and started moving towards the front door. "Yeah. Now, let's go get our stuff. Robby, you put that spare key where it belongs while we get sorted."

He held out one hand; it took a moment for Robby to realize he was waiting to be given Frank's hoodie and jacket.

Quietly, because they were out of earshot, Jack nudged him and said, "Thank you for letting him come over."

"Oh, I think we both know the decision was all yours," Robby groused. Because Jack had basically bulldozed him. He was just about to say more, when the front door opened and Frank stepped out, house key in hand.

"Found this." He looked sweaty and like the flight of stairs from the cellar to the first floor had depleted him; satisfied, too.

When he handed Robby the keys, Robby couldn't help himself. He curled his fingers around Frank's hand, checking the skin temperature. Too warm and dry. He slid his fingers to the pulse point and dropped his head low. It was fast. Frank shouldn't be out here.

"Alright. Now go sit down somewhere."

Next to him, Jack separated the two items of clothing and held the hoodie out.

Robby stepped back, ready to take the spare key to the secret spot in the back by the garage. When he turned to remind Jack to bring the bags he'd left on the step, Jack was standing close to Frank, helping him into the jacket. His hand was intimately close, brushing against Frank's back casually.

Robby turned around again, trying to banish the thought from his head that had formed almost instantly. Too close. They looked comfortable with each other.

When he'd put the key away, Jack was returning with Dog, while Frank trailed behind them, carrying the bags Robby had left sitting by the front door.

"Where do you want these?" he asked.

Robby gestured at the table and dipped into the garage to find the sun loungers. He carried one outside. Meanwhile, Frank sifted through the bags, movements trailing and slow. The dog nosed at his legs, looking up at him, then at Robby.

"Sit down, Frank. Here." He gestured at the sun lounger and went back inside the garage for the second one. When he came back out again, Frank was already trudging over.

"Thanks. I think… maybe I overdid it. The drive, you know? I spent all morning on the couch." Frank gingerly sat down with the careful movement of someone unwilling to aggravate a pounding headache and lifted his legs up. "I don't want to stay, but maybe half an hour?" It was a request so hopeful it hurt.

Robby sat down on the other one, so close his knee was touching the one Frank was lying on. "You heard Jack. We're having steaks. You're staying."

"But this is your day off."

"Yeah, and without you, we'd still be waiting for a locksmith to find the time to open up the house. So… stay. Alright? It's fine."

Frank looked at him. "Look, I know…"

Whatever he thought he knew, although Robby could guess what he wanted to say, was interrupted by Jack coming back outside. He had abandoned his crutches and put on his prosthetic leg. He was also wearing cargo shorts and a hoodie—looking criminally confident like he used to back in his thirties. Judging by the grin he flashed Robby, he knew exactly how this look affected him.

Robby countered with a quick jibe. "Where are the Oakleys?"

"In the car. But I'm good, don't worry. I want to see you two." His smirk turned oddly meaningful. That was flirting.

"Oh yeah?" Robby looked back at Frank, who blinked with a dopey, lazy smile, to see if he had caught it, too. He didn't look like he had.

"Let's get you hydrated," Robby murmured.

When he made to get up, Frank's hand caught his. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I'm the one who's grateful. And no apologies necessary either," he cut in before Frank could say anything to that effect. They were good on apologies; had been for a while now.

Robby gave into the urge and gently patted Frank's chest. "Rest up a bit."

Frank looked at him, but didn't let his hand go just yet. He jerked it lightly and smiled. "I promise… if I hadn't been feeling up to it, I would've left you hanging."

Robby laughed and squeezed Frank's fingers. "Thank you. That's… good to know."

He meant it, too. He was glad for the reminder.

It had taken some time and one of the first few therapists he'd tried, to realize that he was afraid Frank would push himself too hard again to avoid disappointing him. It helped, hearing that Frank was aware of that as well.

Finally, he let go and got up to grab them all some drinks from the kitchen.

When he returned with water and two beers for him and Jack just minutes later, Frank was asleep.

"He shouldn't be out and about," Robby said, guilty conscience gnawing at him still. Never mind that Frank came over eagerly, that he looked peaceful right now, that the dog was happy exploring the garden, that he didn't have the actual flu, just symptoms from the vaccine. They should've called a locksmith and gone to a restaurant instead.

"He's not 'out and about,'" Jack echoed with exasperation and pointed at Frank with his BBQ tongs. "Look at him. He's right where he should be."

Apparently, according to Jack Abbot, that was with the two of them.

"Yeah?" Robby had his doubts.

Jack's very genuine and serious "Yeah, I do," surprised him enough to force himself to really look at Jack. Jack just smiled and shook his head. "Don't look at me like that."

Robby ignored the ribbing, choosing not to analyze what Jack was talking about. Instead, he turned around and went inside to grab the throw from the back of the couch. He took it outside and carefully draped it over Frank.

When he turned back to the grill, he found Jack's eyes on him, BBQ tongs clacking. "Better?" Jack asked.

Robby sighed. Yes. In a way, he felt better now.

"What is it with you two?" Jack murmured, seemingly mostly to himself, shifting back to the grill. He took the beer bottle Robby had brought him and raised it, waiting for Robby to clack the bottoms together.

"What do you mean?"

"You two. There's something between you two that you never talk about. For years now. Something."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Robby replied, refusing to put any more thoughts into this.

Jack clearing his throat made him realize that his eyes had wandered back to his sleeping attending. He jerked his head back, only to find Jack grinning at him. "Yeah," Jack said with a huff. "You have no idea."

"What about those steaks?" Robby interrupted and slid closer.

"Mmm, the coal's not ready yet."

Robby eyed the veggies that were already on the grill and carefully plucked a bell pepper off. "How much longer?" he asked and blew on the pepper before biting a piece off.

He didn't miss how Jack's eyes flitted to the sun lounger before answering. "Half an hour?" he said and made a show of checking.

Robby hummed. Even he could see that the coal was perfect to have the steaks right now. "I'll get on with the salad then."

"Bring some cards out," Jack replied. "Let's enjoy the day. We'll do the salad together later."

"Maybe I should ask you."

"Ask me what?"

Ask you why you're so interested in pushing me and Frank together, Robby wanted to reply. But if he asked, he'd most likely get an answer; one he probably didn't want to hear. Instead, he swallowed and shook his head and set his beer bottle down on the table. "Never mind. Be right back."

They played a few rounds. Dog came over and settled by Robby's feet. He checked briefly under the table to see if he was chewing on anything he shouldn't chew on, but Dog seemed to be happy just napping on his foot. Jack got up a few times to pour more coals onto the fire. Robby didn't comment on that.

Sometime later, Frank woke with a groan. He twisted onto his back, blinking and putting his hands on his head, feeling his forehead. Dog merely raised his head, but didn't move from his spot. Soon enough, Robby felt his heavy head lie back down on his foot.

Frank flopped onto his side before slowly getting up. There was an air of helpless frustration around him. He brought the blanket with him, joining them with mussed hair and glassy, unfocused eyes. He sat down heavily between them. "I fell asleep," he said with a gravelly voice. He cleared his throat right after and poured himself a glass of water.

"That you did," Jack said and without concern or asking, reached out and pressed his palm against Frank's forehead. "Good thing you've got tomorrow off as well," was all he said—matter-of-fact, but with a voice intimate and quiet.

Robby watched, that ugly feeling rearing inside of him again. He didn't know why he was feeling jealous or who or even what he was feeling jealous of. Was he jealous of their friendship, of the ease of their interactions? Because he and Frank weren't there yet? Was he worried Frank might steal Jack away from him? They were barely on again; it was only a question of when he and Jack would take their next break. Robby was difficult. What if these two found each other… easy? Or was he jealous of Jack because Frank was so at ease around him in a way he wasn't with Robby.

"You hungry?" Jack asked.

"Not really." Frank huffed and reached out to tug two hole cards towards himself. He pulled the corners up and peeked at the faces. He eyed the cards in the middle and revealed in that split second that he had nothing. "I'm in if you are," he said gamely anyway.

Jack sighed. When Robby looked up, Jack quirked his lips at him. "How about you two play a round while I get everything ready, hm?"

Before either of them could protest, Jack folded and got up. "Had a shit hand anyway."

Frank lay his hand on the cards and rubbed at his head. "You got two days off for this next week, right?" he asked, game forgotten.

Robby leaned back. "Yeah, two."

"Good." He huffed. "To think I almost had the kids over because I thought I'd be fine." Frank propped his head up heavily, leaning in. He was close enough for Robby to note how glassy and dry his eyes were. "How's it going?" he asked then.

Robby frowned curiously. "Me?"

"Yeah. You… I don't know. We haven't…" Frank shrugged. "You know."

Robby gave himself a push. "I've been working on the house." He gestured towards the door to the kitchen and the mud room. "There are things I never fixed because I didn't want to spend any time on them. But I've been working on the inside." He was thinking about remodeling the bathroom next to make it more accessible. The door to the garage wasn't easily wheelchair accessible yet either.

He looked over the garden. "And then, maybe, next I can work on something out here."

Frank nodded. "That sounds good."

"It's slow going, though."

Frank hummed.

Robby groaned. "But I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

"It's weird, living in an apartment after living in a house for so long." Frank lazily gestured at the garden. "I'm so used to sitting outside. Dog's unhappy, too. I keep thinking, maybe I should give him up for adoption. He'd be happier elsewhere, but then the kids..." He made that same shrugging gesture from earlier, dismissing his own thoughts.

"So, you and Abby are definitely not…"

Frank pulled his shoulders up defensively and shook his head. "Definitely not." He eyed Robby. "She stayed, you know? She stayed and we tried, but I think at some point it became clear that we'd gone into this expecting something different. Maybe she shouldn't have stayed in the first place. Maybe it would've been better if she hadn't tried so hard. Better for her."

"How are the kids taking it?"

Frank shrugged. "They just take things as they come. They're not picky. They're not super excited about my place. I'm pretty sure they don't miss me all that much when I'm not there. They love mom."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Frank ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't there for the first five years. Then I was there too much for a year before fucking off again." He slid the cards Jack had thrown down onto the pile around with a lazy finger. "I think this is good. This way is good. I'm not…" He looked at Robby. "I love her. I love the kids. But maybe I didn't love her the way I should have. Otherwise, I wouldn't have… you know."

"Frank…"

"You know how it is. Sometimes you give everything to the job and you have nothing left. And someone who doesn't know that…" He dug his palm into one eye before scrubbing harshly through his hair. "I had nothing left so often. I felt like I was just… taking and taking." He gave a little laugh that seemed filled with sad memories.

Robby huffed and glanced inside, to where Jack was most likely preparing the side dishes by himself to give them time to talk. Sneaky bastard.

He and Jack knew exactly what Frank was talking about. It was half the reason their relationship was the way it was. Even if Robby was now trying to get better and with more success. For the first time in a while, he was planning for the future. They were on again and for now, Robby held out hope that it would stick this time. He wanted Jack back in his life. He wanted to be healthier to be able to offer more. He wanted to live.

And he wanted Frank back in his life, too.

"I do," he finally said, thoughts still with Jack in the kitchen. "I know how it is." When he tore his eyes away from the door to the kitchen, Frank was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"What now?" Robby asked.

"Now I'm trying to figure out what I want. And what's… attainable?" Frank plucked his two hole cards from underneath his hand and put them on the table face up: the King of Hearts and the King of Spades. He looked sad about it.

* * *

Robby walked out briskly, stopping just after the automatic doors. The air was cool out here, fresh and crisp. He looked around, trying to follow the instructions Donnie had given him with his eyes—the edge of the parking lot, by the park, almost directly across from the entrance. To the right.

When he spotted whom he was looking for, he stopped himself from charging over there. Whatever was going on didn't seem urgent. Still, there Frank was, sitting on the hood of his car, too close to the edge of the parking garage roof for Robby's taste.

He checked his watch. Frank should have gone home by now. There was no reason to linger; unless there was something else wrong or he didn't want to go home.

Robby walked over slowly, taking his time, giving himself time, really, to calm down.

Coming closer, he could see that Frank was wearing an oversized, warm jacket, and he was sitting on the unfolded pages of a newspaper, which was an instant relief. He slowed his walk down anyway and came to a shuffling stop next to the hood of Frank's Defender. He waited there quietly, watching Frank look up at the sky. He followed his gaze curiously.

Frank seemed to have noticed him but didn't do much else to acknowledge him. Finally, he turned, peeking over his shoulder briefly to check the doors to the hospital, before focusing on Robby. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Robby replied. "What are you still doing here?"

Frank pulled out his phone, checked it for a moment, before putting it back and running a hand over his pale face. "Meteor shower."

Robby looked up. The night sky was barely visible—between buildings and light pollution, it didn't offer a lot of stars. A few stray clouds drifted past and the city lights were surely too bright to make this endeavor anything but silly. He eyed Frank, sitting on the hood of the car, feet on the bumper, heels digging into the giant grill.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Now?" he asked. He heard the doubt in his own voice; didn't bother to hide the 'Here?!' in his tone.

Frank patted the hood of his car. "Join me?" His hand came away dusty and he wiped it on his jacket.

Robby took a step closer but hesitated at the prospect of sitting on the hood of the car. Surely, if any car wouldn't mind, it was this one, but it felt wrong anyway. Ever helpful, Frank slid off, pulled out a section of the newspaper he'd been sitting on, and handed it to Robby. Then he put his pages back on the hood, a little further to one side, and sat back down. The metal creaked. He brushed his hands together.

"I shouldn't," Robby commented, but unfolded the pages anyway.

"It's sturdy. And kind of a clunker, Robby. Another dent is the least of its problems." He looked at Robby expectantly. "C'mon, make a wish with me."

"For you to get a better car?" The dry joke slipped out before he could hold it back.

Frank laughed, appreciating the joke. "Yeah. That's exactly what we're wishing for," he said and watched Robby. The sad undertone didn't leave him, despite the laugh.

Robby put the paper down before mindfully sliding onto the hood. The metal creaked even worse under his additional weight.

"What does that fellow paycheck say?" Robby asked quietly.

Frank waved the thought off. "A car is not in the cards right now. I've got a list of things I need to pay off." He drew his shoulders up. "Besides, I like this one. I've gone camping in it."

Robby huffed. He knew of at least one of those 'camping' instances. "It's a money sink. Your shoes are threadbare, I'm pretty—"

"Let's not talk about money," Frank interrupted and looked down at his shoes. Robby watched as he tipped his toes up, doming the material, pulling at the seams.

"Have you seen one yet?" Robby asked and looked up at the sky. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Frank follow his gaze.

An airplane blinked by.

"A UFO earlier."

Robby snorted. "What, looking for cows in Pittsburgh?"

Frank nodded and joined in. "Yeah, don't know what they're thinking. Probably headed up north next." Robby puffed out a laugh.

They sat in silence for a bit, looking up, watching planes, waiting for a meteor to scatter in the atmosphere.

Suddenly, a meteor zipped across the sky and Robby hooted. "There's one!" He hadn't believed they'd actually see one. He didn't want to pretend, he was excited. Stargazing seemed so frivolous and yet here they were, chatting, enjoying the night together.

Frank beamed at Robby with a look that said, 'I told you so.'

"I'll let you have that one," Frank offered magnanimously.

Robby shook his head. "Wishing bar's open. What do you want?" he asked.

Frank looked away, the atmosphere suddenly heavy between them. This was the reason Robby had come out here. This heaviness that had been surrounding Frank for the past week since his return from Baltimore. He was being weighed down by something he wasn't telling anyone about.

"I came out here for a reason," Robby finally said when Frank didn't answer.

"Yeah?"

"To ask… not if you're okay, but what's not okay? What's going on?" Robby tried to be careful, making sure to leave his tone devoid of any and all accusation.

Frank pulled out his phone again to check something.

"Family stuff," he answered quietly. He took a breath, gearing up for an elaboration on that succinct summary. "Nothing to do with Abby or the kids. Back home."

Robby didn't push. He stayed where he was, waiting and giving Frank time to collect his thoughts into words. It was past their shift, they had time to get to the words they wanted to say to each other.

There was nothing automatic about this now, no muscle memory of translating numbers to actions in an emergency.

"I'm in Pittsburgh, making end of life decisions for someone in North Carolina." He sounded depleted. "My life consists of phone calls right now."

"I'm sorry." Robby tipped his head down. If it didn't have anything to do with work, he feared he was not much help.

"It's just a lot. I'm dealing with it, you know? But… still a lot." Frank looked at him. "I'm tired of being shuffled from one person to the next, each one telling me something different. Tired of making decisions for someone else." He sighed. "The family's a nightmare, too."

"Do you need some time off?" Robby asked, because it felt like that was the only thing he could offer. He didn't know how the fellowship worked, but he could give Frank a few days.

Frank shook his head vehemently. "No, please. That's the last thing I want. I just want… someone else to deal with all of this. Not me."

Robby shuffled an inviting inch closer, just to show his support; his presence.

Frank leaned against him, tentatively at first, then more heavily a moment later.

It felt good, being there for Frank. For the first time since Frank's return, he felt like they were really rebuilding what they'd lost.

He remembered those early days after the MCI, when he'd told every one of those young interns and residents that they needed to talk to someone, that they could come to him, that he was there for them if they wanted to talk. He'd burned himself from both ends then, listening to patients, to colleagues, to the nurses, to everyone, trying to lighten everyone's load. Yet, he'd never done the same for Frank. Never even told him 'good job on that chaos.' Maybe Jack had, since he had recommended Frank for that fellowship.

Now, with a few months of fellowship and distance between them, they were growing closer in a different way and finally Robby felt like he was reaching out for real. Fixing things with them.

It was different now. Easier than it had ever been. Less superior and subordinate, more like friends. It felt like more than that, too, lately.

Frank sighed. Robby felt him soak in the silent support, almost melting against his side. It felt good, knowing he could give something now that he'd never really been capable of giving in the past.

"It sucks that it has to be you. Does it?" Robby asked. "Does it have to be you?" he clarified.

"Apparently. Some things, at least." Frank looked up at the night sky again, but when Robby followed his line of sight, there was nothing. No magical wishing star zipping past to grant Frank whatever he needed.

"If there is anything I can do…" Robby trailed off.

"You're doing it right now," Frank replied and bumped his shoulder into Robby's. This right here, something Robby had, at some point, thought they would never ever get back, was apparently enough.

Robby huffed at that. He was just sitting here. "Can one of the social workers help? Kira knows the system best. Can't she… arrange something?"

"I already asked her. She says NC is NC." Frank shrugged. "I'll deal," he promised. "The fellowship is taking my mind off of it. I'm revising for the boards."

Robby scoffed. "Revising. You're ready for the boards twice over."

Frank dug his shoulder into Robby's arm in thanks.

"Do you have any support from home?" Probably nothing to expect from Abby here, but maybe someone in NC cared.

"My parents are there. They do… what they can."

"Alright." Robby left it at that, feeling that Frank didn't want to talk about this anymore. To distract them both, he tipped his shoulder against Frank's and nodded upwards with his chin. "Let's wait for another one?"

They stayed like that for a while longer, quietly watching the sky together. Another plane flew past but no meteor.

"I think that was it," Frank said after some time. He pulled his jacket more tightly around himself.

Robby looked at the thing with some fascination. It was old and smelled faintly of trunk and gasoline. It was also too big to be Frank's; in fact, he seemed to be wearing it on top of his own jacket.

"That's new," he finally commented, once he realized Frank had noticed him staring at the thing.

"It's been in the back of the car for ten years," Frank said and flapped one end. "Should've chucked it out back then, but this car is just an endless pit of old stuff. Dog found one of Tanner's pacifiers recently… from five years ago." He scrunched up his nose and dipped it into the fabric. "It smells."

Musty, Robby thought. Of gasoline and the wetness of ten Pittsburgh winters. He snorted and shook his head. "It's also not yours. Until you were, at some point, twice your size."

Frank rolled his eyes. "It belonged to an ex if you must know."

"Big girl," slipped out before Robby could stop himself. His hand went up to cover his mouth, but he let it fall back down halfway when Frank snorted. "Sorry," he apologized. It was none of his business who had come before Abby. He also liked to think he was better than that.

Frank dipped in, so he was closer to Robby. In the intimacy between them, he murmured, "It's a men's jacket, Robby."

Robby's mouth felt dry all of a sudden. Helplessly, he nodded, accepting what he had always suspected. He'd known, more or less. This was just a confirmation.

He'd have to truly process that some other time, though.

"Big boy then," he replied with a smile.

Frank laughed out loud, warm and light. His shoulders sagged. "You already knew," Frank replied, leaving Robby to wonder what had given him away.

"Maybe," Robby answered and put a casual hand on Frank's back, rubbing between his shoulder blades and then lower—letting him know he was there and present and that he cared. This was not an empty 'checking up on Frank.' He wanted this gesture to be seen for what it was: honest support.

Frank sank into the comforting hold.

They stayed like that for a little while. Robby was just about to get invested in catching another shooting star when suddenly, another set of footsteps came closer.

Frank straightened and Robby's hand slid down his back and moved away.

He looked over and saw Jack's curious and interested eyes on them. "Beautiful night for stargazing," he said, sarcasm heavy in his tone, and leaned forward to peek at Frank on Robby's other side. "You two lovebirds."

When Robby looked over, Frank leaned forward to talk to Jack around Robby's body. 

"There's only enough space on the hood for two," he apologized lightly.

"You should get a bigger… boat then," Jack said, which earned him a snort and a laugh. "Is this thing half boat? Just curious."

Frank grinned and shook his head, ignoring the dig. "What, so you can sit on the hood with us?"

Robby leaned back, unwilling to strain to look from side to side if he wanted to follow the conversation. Jack took the hint and came around the hood. For a moment, he stepped up to the edge of the roof and looked over the railing, then came back to them. "In this monstrosity we could lie in the back... or on the roof."

"I've spent a few nights sleeping in this."

"You?" Jack scoffed.

Frank shrugged. "Why not? It's great in summer. I've got a camping mattress and a sleeping bag in the back." He looked between the two of them, like he was waiting for Robby to give away that he'd caught him sleeping in it at the beginning of Covid. Robby kept quiet, waiting to see where this was going. Frank beamed at him for covering and turned to Jack again. "You two should try that some time. Drive to a state park, stay the night, camp there. Stargazing there is a lot better than it is here. Do the Perseids in August."

Jack hummed. "Maybe." He turned to Robby. "You found out yet what's up?"

"Hey," Frank complained. "I'm right here. And I don't appreciate the tag teaming."

"It's not tag teaming. We're just worried." Robby took a breath. Now or never. "I don't want to…" The words stuck in his throat. He didn't want to fuck up with Frank again. He wanted to show he cared. He shrugged helplessly.

"We care," Jack interjected. "Just… know that we have capacity for non-work talk." He huffed when his pager suddenly beeped. He checked it. "I need to go back inside. In a minute."

Jack stepped up to Frank, closing the distance with a meaningful look. "You know we're here. That's why there's two of us. One of us always has an ear." He put his hands first on Frank's knees, then leaned in for a hug. He said something under his breath that Robby couldn't hear. Robby looked the other way, not wanting to disturb their moment. He just heard Frank's quiet, relieved "Okay."

Then, Jack turned to Robby and smiled. "I'll see you at shift change, so please get going sometime soon. Day shift does not need you grumpy from lack of sleep." He pointed at Frank. "You neither."

"I will," Robby agreed and leaned into the way Jack pressed his lips to Robby's. He pulled away with a satisfied smile and patted Robby's shoulder. For a moment, he looked like he was going to do the same to Frank. But no, he just waved.

"Take care, Frank."

A moment later, they heard the sound of two sets of sirens coming closer to the hospital. That was Jack's cue. He made his way quickly over to the doors leading into the building, throwing a "Night! See you later!" over his shoulder as he went. Robby watched him leave and only turned around again when Jack was out of sight.

"Not awkward at all, Robby. You two talking about me."

Robby sighed and looked up. "You would, too, if you noticed someone going through a rough time." After all, Frank had talked to him on the fourth, too.

"I would?"

"Yeah. You learned from the best after all," Robby threw in, a self-deprecating joke he knew would land.

As expected, it made Frank laugh. "Alright. Thank you."

"Want to grab something to eat?" Robby asked.

Frank turned to him, leaning away so he could look at him. His eyes bored into Robby's, pupils huge in the darkness. When he answered, he sounded breathless and careful. "Yeah?"

Robby nodded. "Yeah." He looked up at the stars hidden behind clouds and light pollution and softened the invite. "You could give me a ride, too. I came by bus."

Frank huffed out a breath through his nose. "Sure." He sighed. "So, what's this with you and Jack? Back on again?"

Robby nodded. "Something like that." He slid off the hood of the car and held out the pieces of newspaper. "I guess." A moment later, he corrected to, "I hope. I want us to be." He looked up at Frank. "I'm… it's better now." That was what he ended up with, less than what he wanted to say, but as much as he was ready to give away.

Frank followed suit, hopping off the hood and collecting the newspaper sides. He shuffled them together with the ones Robby had had, and threw them haphazardly in the back. No wonder the car looked the way it did when it was treated like a large trash can.

"You're both committed to each other," Frank said quietly as they got in and buckled up. "You're always there for each other, aren't you?"

"We've been friends for a really long time. Sometimes we blur the lines a little. But I've had relationships, he was married. And like you said, sometimes you have nothing left to give to someone else." Sometimes, putting everything on another person's shoulder felt like too much.

Frank smiled at him. "You're just committed to each other in a different way then."

"We are." Robby tried to not think about the way Jack tried to push him and Frank together. The way he got interested whenever Robby talked about Frank, like he was waiting for something.

Looking sideways at Frank's profile as he drove, the way the streetlamps lit him up and cast moving shadows over his face, Robby thought that maybe, Jack was waiting for him to realize something that had been in front of him all along.

* * *

"Robby, you're up. Incoming trauma from IAP on the heli pad." Dana read the notes from Dispatch on the computer and looked up. "Some sort of parachuting training accident."

"Parachuting accident?" Santos scoffed next to him. "Didn't know that was treatable."

"Training, dear," Dana emphasized and shook her head at Robby. "They only hear half these days."

"Hey," Santos grumbled next to him and looked up at Robby, silently asking if she could join.

Dana wasn't done with her notes. "There's an EMT on board. Sorry, a doctor. Probably one of those Airlift Wing guys."

Robby nodded. Then they wouldn't need a third doctor up there. "In that case, Santos, prepare Trauma one? Order blood and get someone from neuro down. Might be a spinal injury involved. Page surgery, too. Perlah, you're with me."

Perlah grabbed a PP gown and caught up by the time he had reached the elevator. "Not a Q day, then."

"Don't even think it," Robby said. "Wait, did you hear someone say that out loud? Is that why we're getting a helicopter?"

Perlah grinned and turned around to let him tie her gown up in the back. She returned the favor a moment later. In front of him, the numbers went higher and higher.

"You can tell me," he tried to cajole her over his shoulder.

But Perlah was steadfast, ignoring his waggling eyebrows with a shake of her head. "I'm not throwing anyone under the bus."

"So someone did say the Q-word."

Before they could continue their back and forth, the doors opened and they stepped outside.

Perlah immediately let out a noise between a groan and a squeal. "It's freezing out here!"

By now, they could hear the approaching helicopter. The rotor blades cut the air loudly, making it impossible to hear each other without screaming.

"Imagine what it must be like up in the air!" Robby called out as the wind blasted them in the face. He squinted at the sky.

"Fuck that, no." Perlah turned her head away as the helicopter approached, rubbing her arms furiously. "They chose that career."

Once the helicopter had landed, Robby and Perlah ran towards the open doors, ready to receive their patient.

It took Robby a moment to realize that the doctor on board who was ripping off his flight helmet to assist them on the ground, was none other than Frank. Frank, in the kind of combat clothes that Robby recognized from Jack. And then, Robby was too stunned to say more than "What have we got?" There'd be time for other questions later.

Once the helmet was off, Frank took over for the guy who'd been doing the compressions, straddling the patient on the gurney once they'd pulled it out. He looked manic with energy.

"I intubated in the field. We lost him on the ride but got him back," Frank called out over the noise around them. "Tension pneumo left, did a thoracostomy, there's still tensity in the left quadrant."

Perlah and Robby wheeled the gurney, with Frank on top, still doing compressions, to the elevator. Perlah took over bagging as they went.

"Duck!" Robby called out as they came to the doorframe.

Once in the elevator, where it was quiet, they got to work. "Nice of you to drop in. Didn't expect to see you today," Robby said while auscultating. He smiled up at Frank, who returned a wild grin.

Frank's brown hair flopped forward as he worked on his patient, his voice was breathy from the exertion when he answered, "Well… I like… keeping you on your toes."

"Oh yeah?" He switched to Perlah seamlessly. "He's definitely bleeding. Maybe a secondary puncture. Ultrasound as soon as we're in." He began feeling the patient's torso, relying on his fingers and looking up at Frank. "Well, it's good that you're here, we got sandwiches today."

"Way to my heart," Frank murmured.

Once they arrived downstairs, Frank ducked in the doorway again, never losing his rhythm. Robby stabilized him on top of the patient as they turned into the trauma room. Santos stood by with an ultrasound, ready to take over the patient. Mohan filed in right after them, in case they needed more hands. Frank was already sliding back to make room.

"Jesse, take over compressions," Robby requested and—

—was a moment too late to prevent Frank from banging the back of his head into the overhead light as he straightened.

"What's the rule?" slipped out, before he could hold it back. He reached out to steady Frank as he climbed off the gurney.

Frank squinted, his face scrunching up with an apologetic grin. "Don't become a patient?" He rubbed the back of his head an examined his fingers after. "I'm good."

"Yeah." Robby exhaled and observed his residents as they efficiently took over the patient. "You did good." He patted Frank's shoulder. The uniform fabric was unfamiliar on Frank. Robby usually associated feeling that fabric with Jack. It was a confusing sensation. "You hear me? Good job getting him here. Take a break. I'll come find you later." He held on to Frank's shoulder a moment longer, squeezing it before letting go.

Finding Frank later turned out to be at the hub, wearing a black scrub top and holding an ice pack to his head with one hand, drinking some disgusting energy drink that most likely Dana had procured for him.

"Breakroom not good enough for you? Bothering my nurses?" Robby asked him and looked around. Princess had some sort of undecipherable smirk on her face. Her eyes were sparkling as always when she thought she knew something. Perlah looked busy. He steadfastly ignored them.

"I would never." Frank looked up. "Besides, I already had a sandwich from the breakroom." He gestured at the computer with his can. "I'm filling in the patient chart for my parachuter. Taking it slow, I promise."

"What height did he fall from?" Robby asked while he reached out and pried Frank's fingers and the ice pack away from his head to examine the bruise. Without asking, because he didn't want to hear a no.

Next to him, Princess made a startled noise.

"I wasn't there. They went to get Hernandez and he sent me because he knew we'd come here."

A moment later, wound spray and gauze appeared in Robby's field of vision. He turned, only to find Dana next to him, peering at the back of Frank's head with him.

"Good thing you've got a hard head," she commented dryly. "You two finishing up soon?" She gestured at the space they were occupying. "We need space to work here."

"I am working," Frank protested. Demonstratively, Robby pulled on gloves. "So am I. My patient happens to be here." Distracted by Dana, he didn't warn Frank about the spray and got a pitiful hiss when it hit the broken skin.

"Mmhm," Dana uttered and shared a look with Princess. Robby twisted around to get Princess' reaction.

"You two tag teaming me?"

"See, it's not fun when someone does that," Frank argued and reached behind him to slap Robby's hand away. It was a futile gesture and Robby caught his hand easily, holding it briefly while cleaning the wound with his free one.

"Hold still," he said, voice low and firm, before he let the hand go.

Frank slumped and put his hands back on the keyboard. "Thank you," he said quietly. "It doesn't even hurt."

"Well, there was blood. It'll hurt tomorrow when you forget that there's a scab and rip it open washing your hair."

"As if," Frank protested.

In the end, Frank was picked up by Hernandez himself, who stayed for a bit to reintroduce himself to Robby. They hadn't seen each other since that conference that Jack had connected them at.

While Frank was finishing up the patient's chart at the hub together with Mohan, Robby took the time to give the Operational Medicine specialist a tour around the department. It was an odd, humbling exercise, because Hernandez heaped praise on his ER and him specifically for being a great teacher; but knowing himself and his faults, it felt undeserved.

Once Hernandez and Frank had left and regular service on the floor continued, Robby caught the gist of a Tagalog discussion between the nurses, involving his and Frank's names and the word 'flirting.'

Well, shit.

The realization that he wasn't just not angry anymore, that he hadn't just forgiven Frank, but that he truly enjoyed having him around again, was startling. He took a detour in his car, giving himself a few extra miles of road to contemplate this new light he saw Frank in.

He didn't realize he was close to Home Depot until he was driving past it on the other side of the road. Fuck it, he'd been meaning to remodel the main bathroom anyway. He turned into the left lane and took a U-turn at the next crossing. Driving back, he parked close to the exit, got an ice cream from the vending machine on the way in, and spent half an hour browsing through the bathroom aisles until his brain had calmed down.

He wasn't just happy to see Frank. It was fun to work with him now, more than it had been before.

Before…

Robby's train of thought came to a shuddering stop.

Before Robby had completely missed that his resident was struggling.

It was only now that he realized he had never checked in on Frank after their stargazing conversation about family members. He didn't want to miss that ever again, so he stopped in the middle of the aisle, between PVC pipes and floor board samples and texted Frank. 'How are you doing?'

Frank appeared online a moment later. Robby watched three dots appear under his message, watched them disappear and reappear. 'I'm fine. Tired.'

'If you want company this weekend, come over? I'm cleaning out the garage. Jack will BBQ.'

'Raincheck? I have to fly out to NC. Family stuff.'

Robby sighed. 'Raincheck,' he replied. 'Call if you want to talk.'

He got a 'Thank you' back that was only marginally reassuring until it was followed by an 'I will'

'I'm here to listen any time,' he added as a last word to the conversation, just because.

Feeling better after checking in with Frank, Robby picked out three kinds of tiles he liked and had someone give him a sample of each so he could look at them in his bathroom in daylight. And because he was already there, he checked out the shower section as well, because if he already put new tiles in, he could replace the porcelain shower tray he had with an actual tiled wet room tray. 

He left an hour later with sample tiles, a catalog for different shower glass panels and screens for walk in showers, and a detailed list of distances to measure so they could find the perfect fit for his bathroom.

Easy. All Jack had to do was bring his widest wheelchair this weekend and an idea what kind of shower bench he wanted.

Never mind that one of the reasons Robby had discarded half of the options was that they were all too small for a different reason that had very little to do with accessibility.

* * *

Robby was not supposed to be here on his day off. Not at all. And yet, here he was; feeling like an idiot, too.

He entered the emergency department from the back. Because he'd driven himself here and he sure as hell wasn't going to go through chairs. Too many of those night owls sometimes also came by during the day shift and he did not want this to be a topic of conversation next time he had one of them as a patient.

He went through the double doors, swiping his card, and then took a breather by the door. Just a moment, to see the night shift work.

Shen flitted out of one room and into another. Nurses he wasn't familiar with were busy with patient care. And then there were Jack and, to his surprise, Frank standing side by side under the monitor, looking up.

Lena stood in front of them, her back to Robby, talking to both of them with the phone at her ear.

It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time; same but different.

And then Jack happened to look over Lena's shoulder and caught sight of him. He immediately checked him over, eyebrows drawing together unhappily. His face did something complicated, becoming panicked for a moment and looking too worried for the situation at hand.

Robby made a face and waved his concern away. There was nothing to be concerned about.

It took a moment for Jack to drop the worry.

And maybe, Robby realized with startling clarity, that was a sign of how much Jack used to worry about him, that it bled through so easily now, months after the fourth of July.

When Jack had swallowed down his unease, when Robby's smile eased his worry, he elbowed Frank and tipped his chin at Robby. "Look at what the cat dragged in," he said loudly for him to hear, for Lena to hear, and for Ellis as well, who was coming out of a trauma bay that moment.

"What are you doing here, boss?" Ellis asked.

"Nothing. Continue what you were doing. Nothing to see here."

He trudged over to the nurses' hub and took in the little details. Jack watched him closely, still trying to figure out what was wrong. His eyes fell on Robby's forearm, which he was holding semi-seriously above his heart and where a bulk had to be visible under his hoodie.

Frank did the same thing, taking him in as a whole, checking him from top to bottom with intent. He looked… tan. Jesus, did he look sun kissed. Was that a sprinkle of fucking freckles? He rolled out a chair for Robby to sit on. "What happened, Robby?"

"Minor accident."

"Minor? And you came here?" Jack asked, his tone carrying 'If it was truly minor, you wouldn't be here' with it. "Let's see it then," he said and gestured at Robby's arm.

Frank stepped around the chair to see. He looked unsure—eager to help, but unsure how. He rested one hand on the back of Robby's chair, the other on his own hip, trying to look casual. What it did, was distract Robby, because he was tan all over and… he looked different. He was wearing short sleeves tonight, showing off the months of tactical training that apparently built up muscles left and right.

Robby was reminded of that one photo he'd seen of Frank in Afghanistan during the first months of the Covid lockdown: A picture he'd pulled up while in full protective gear to show a patient what he looked like and to explain why he could speak enough Pashto to treat her until the interpreter came.

Jack grabbed a stool and sat down before gesturing for Robby to take off his hoodie. "Now, Dr. Langdon. What's the diagnosis?"

Robby rolled his eyes up, daring Frank to answer. He did not need this to be a teaching case, especially not for a resident-slash-fellow who saw a lot more gruesome things on a daily basis. "I need a tetanus shot. I don't think it needs stitches."

Frank nodded along and watched, wincing sympathetically when Jack revealed the bandage and started unwrapping it.

"Let me be the judge of that," Jack grumbled unhappily. "What were you doing, taking down bathroom tiles at this hour?" Because of course Jack remembered what the current DIY project was and could correlate the type of work that required with the type of injury he was unwrapping.

"I didn't want to watch TV." Robby followed with some fascination as Jack revealed the bloody gash which was immediately starting to seep again. It hurt, too, now that the bandage was off and air could get to it. It stung. It didn't look… minor minor.

"So?" Jack asked and started cleaning the wound.

"It's just a few more rows and then I'm done," Robby defended. "I wanted to get it done." Tomorrow was his second day off in a row. He wanted to finish taking down the tiles so he could clear everything out. It wasn't urgent, it was still useable; plus, there was another bathroom, but it felt urgent for some reason. As if this bathroom stood in the way of something else.

"I'll get your booster," Frank said and left them to it.

"I saw you looking," Jack said with a hidden smile, between the two of them, once he was out of earshot. "I know exactly what you were thinking."

Robby sighed and looked around, to see who was within ear shot. "What was I thinking, hm?"

"That he's tan. That you've never seen him not pasty white with bags under his eyes. And that he won't fit through that damn window of yours for much longer with how they've got him working out."

"Neon light doesn't do anyone any favors," Robby argued, like that was making any sort of point. It wasn't. He was just distracting himself from the fact that Jack knew him so well and that he absolutely didn't seem to mind; quite the opposite.

"Very true. Although you, of course, always look hot, even in neon light."

Jack, that winking, grinning fucker, enjoyed how much that charmed Robby. He felt his skin heat up. He looked at his lover through half-lidded eyes… because to him, Jack with his curls and his muscles and his scruffy beard, was still the hottest guy in here.

Jack worked on the wound quietly, cleaning it and ordering a suture kit. "Just a few," he promised. "For a smaller scar."

"One round of Tdap booster coming up," Frank announced. "Your last shot was twelve years ago, by the way. How did that happen?" He had disinfectant and gauze ready in his gloved hands. "Where do you want it?"

"Left arm, please."

"And when do you want the help?" Frank asked as he swabbed the area. "Because that arm isn't going to do anything tomorrow."

Robby countered that with, "And you'll be asleep tomorrow." Besides, he didn't need help.

"He's been taking down the tiles in the main bathroom," Jack explained over his head to Frank. "Which he's remodeling now. Because he's done with almost everything else that he can do by himself."

Robby was about to say that the kitchen was next, although yes, he would work with a contractor for that.

Frank looked at him and Robby could almost hear the question—why was he doing that by himself, why wasn't he paying someone to do it, he certainly had the money. But Frank just nodded, like he got it. Like he understood where Robby was coming from.

He smiled. "But… even if you want to do it yourself. Know that there are people who are willing to help."

Robby's mouth suddenly felt dry. Frank understood all too well that some problems couldn't be fixed alone. "I know. I'll ask," he promised quietly.

There was something sweet in Frank's smile, something that felt almost grateful for the opportunity to lug a few tiles into the house.

"I mean it," Frank reiterated.

"Me, too."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Jack smirk. That fucker.

* * *

Robby woke up disoriented. Something had woken him.

A moment later, he realized that it was most likely the noise that had woken him. For the middle of the night, it was loud. Rain pelted against the window in an irregular pattern, washing up against the glass with each gust of wind.

He blinked into the darkness, straight ahead at the shadows the tree outside his house threw onto the ceiling. The branches swung wildly, dancing across back and forth.

This was the storm that had been threatened by the weather forecast the whole day.

He'd checked the yard, tightened down every window, made sure that there was nothing outside that could be thrown against the house. He'd even taken the damn grill into the garage, mostly to do Jack a favor who loved the damn thing.

His arm automatically slid across the mattress, stretching to the other side of the bed, even though he knew Jack was on shift. He did not want to know what the first responders had to deal with right now. There were probably trees coming down all over Pittsburgh.

He didn't know how long he lay there, trying to fall asleep, his head going through a checklist of everything he'd done and thinking twice about whether he might have missed anything.

In the end, he hitched himself up, bunched the pillow under his head, and fumbled for his phone on the bedside table, to see what time it was. He didn't feel rested, so he couldn't have been sleeping for long.

He hadn't even touched the phone when it suddenly vibrated and sent out the alert tone of a mass notification. The shrill, loud tone surprised him enough to make his hand jerk and almost slide it off the edge.

Fuck.

PTMC. Code Triage.

It was an off-duty recall of available personnel for a mass casualty event.

Report immediately.

He hurried in the bathroom, got dressed as quickly as he could, jogged to the car, and then took a moment to sit in the garage and breathe. Because his speeding to work and getting into an accident on the way would help no one.

He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and looked at the screen to see if Jack had sent him a message; he had.

'Flash floods caused bridge collapse. Cars in ravine. You coming in?'

'ETA 15,' he texted back. He wasn't sure if Jack would even have time to see the message, but before he had the chance to put the phone away, the message had two check marks. Received and read.

He started the car and took his time driving to the hospital, since he could barely see anything in the heavy rain. He could hear sirens all around him, from car alarms to ambulances and fire trucks. The city was alive, lit up in red and blue, despite the late hour. The rain made the streets slick. A few cars drove with their warning lights on, careful, but still outside, despite the weather warnings.

He arrived at the emergency department soaking wet from the jog between his car and the entrance. He was ready and looking around for Jack as he made his way to the hub, unzipping his jacket as he went.

There he was, looking up just as Robby came in, as if he'd summoned him. "Good to see you, brother," Jack greeted him with a hug and a squeeze; a sincere squeeze to his shoulder that he underlined. "Really good you're here so quick. First responders are already en route."

"Who else is on duty?"

"I've got Shen coming in. Ellis is already preparing the trauma bays. It might not get too bad, but we don't know yet how many victims there are."

"Langdon?"

Jack frowned, smiling tightly. "He's at the front line, brother. Operational medicine and everything."

"At the bridge?" Robby asked, heart suddenly beating faster.

"That's his job now, Robby." Jack beamed, proud. He dialed it down when he seemed to see something in Robby's face. "Don't. You know he loves it. Think of the way he gets whenever something becomes even a little chaotic here." He put a hand on Robby's arm. "He's been training for this for months."

Robby swallowed. "I know." Didn't mean he liked imagining Frank out there in this weather.

Jack watched him. "He's not alone out there, you know? He's got a whole team of specialists with him. Hernandez is coordinating triage on site. He'll give us estimates of how many we're getting and how bad."

"Alright," Robby said. "Put me wherever you need me."

Jack winked. "My quarterback."

Things became hectic quickly. For the first hour they got mostly crash victims. A few cars had dropped or slid into the ravine. A Greyhound, of all things, had been on that bridge as well. They got some minor injuries first, meaning the fire fighters had to cut the bad ones out of the more damaged cars first. There were no airlifts due to the weather, so the ambulances came in hot one after the other.

An hour in, they got their first gas inhalation and the notification that people in the houses around the accident site had to be evacuated due to a gas leak. That did nothing to ease Robby's mind.

Two hours later, there was talk of a small explosion from a diesel engine and they got a few burn victims. Robby's chest felt tight with each arrival. They got a firefighter whose sats kept dropping. One who had tried to help others and fallen a few meters down.

Before he realized it, a few new faces came in, taking over surgery consults and nursing; those who had been held back by the off-duty recall because someone needed to be fresh and awake for the day shift. He saw one of Garcia's surgical residents flitting about, Dr. King had also come in.

And Robby was just there, doing his job, one patient after the other, intubating, calling for blood, fixing bleeders and breaks and a crushed shoulder and a mangled foot.

He looked up at the monitor, to make sure he wasn't forgetting a check-up. He was chewing on a granola bar someone had pressed into his hand. The words on the screen were blurry. The colors blended into each other.

"How's it going out there?" Perlah asked, suddenly appearing next to him.

"Hm?" He blinked. What was she asking?

"What's the estimate? How many more are coming in?"

Robby had no answer to that. He was also getting the feeling that he hadn't slept long enough for the shift he just had. He wasn't in contact with anyone from the accident site, so all he had to go on were the casualties coming in and… something inside him was clenching tightly, making it difficult to get a full breath of air. Adrenaline was burning through him. He had to… he had to… He knew that feeling. It had been months since he'd last felt it.

"Winding down," Jack said, joining the conversation. "I think we're good here, Robby." A hard, grounding hand landed on his shoulder and rubbed down his back.

"Hm?"

Jack took him to the side, excusing them from the conversation. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Perlah nodding frantically.

"Robby, brother, you alright?"

"Yeah." He turned. "I think I'm just really tired."

"You slept maybe three hours last night, if that. You got here early the shift before, too." Jack looked at him, held onto his arm, observing and watching him. "You worried about him?"

"You said it yourself; he loves that kind of thing." His voice was unsteady, even to his own ears.

"He does, but… I know it's not easy being here when he's out there," Jack said quietly. "Especially not with the traumas we got in."

The statement, coming from Jack, was so infuriating and so absurd, that Robby couldn't help but laugh. He immediately tried to hide it, rubbed his hand over his beard and looked down at Jack. "Do you?"

Jack had the decency to look startled. He made the connection immediately.

Robby had spent years staying behind while Jack went out there—first to war zones, now to whatever law enforcement shitshow he had to join in case something went wrong. He really shouldn't be this out of his depth now when Frank did the same thing.

But it was different. He'd met Jack when he was with MSF and Jack was in the Army. He didn't know Jack in any other environment. But Frank? Frank, who cooed at his dumb goldendoodle like it was a third child. Frank, who'd once been so anxious and stressed that he'd resorted to drugs to calm down. Frank, who'd apparently thought leaving was the only thing he could do that would make Robby happy.

And now, here he was, anxious because Frank wasn't where he could see him.

Anxious enough to snap at Jack for being too casual; hurting Jack because he was out of his emotional depth. He squeezed his eyes shut because they were getting glassy. He brought his hands up and covered his eyes for a moment. Fuck.

"I'm sorry, Jack. That was uncalled for. You're the best at what you do. And I'm absolutely okay with it, you know that. I don't know why I'm such a mess about this."

"I might know why," Jack said with a smile that was both reassuring and way too understanding for what Robby had just snapped at him. "Go," he said and reached out slowly, put a hand on Robby's neck and looked him in the eyes. "We're good here. I'm sure they're slowing down out there, too. Why don't you go out with the next ambulance and pick him up? Give him a ride home."

"You sure?"

"Robby, go." Before Robby could actually turn around, however, Jack held him back by the arm. "You know it'll mean a lot to him. Even if he doesn't say it, even if you can't put it in words. Showing up will mean the world."

"You try to fix us up so badly," Robby murmured.

"Believe me, I'd rather have you two figure things out on your own." With that, Jack pushed him towards the door. "Go on, get."

Robby found an ambulance that took him back to the collapsed bridge just minutes later. They even let him ride in the passenger seat after he waited too long with his answer whether he got car sick. He didn't, not really, not when he could see the way the road curved ahead of him. He was given a Gatorade and half a sandwich, which made him feel better immediately. The difference a little food and hydration could make.

"They've set up two tents," the driver told him. "A is for injured accident victims. Minor stuff only, people waiting for the worst to be over. They'll be taken in next. Tent B is the same, basically, but for injured first responders. Your guy is probably down in the ravine with everyone."

"You're saying I might have to wait until he comes back up?" Robby assumed.

"Yeah. Unless he's taking care of someone in one of the tents. Ask Hernandez. He'll know where your guy is at."

"It looks scarier now in daylight," the EMT riding in the back called to the front. "Have you been to many of these?" she asked.

Robby could only think back to his different stays in the Middle East. The bombed-out buildings, Ibn Sina Hospital in the Green Zone. The heat. Big Charity, the flood that had trapped them inside without electricity for days. The stink. The collapsed buildings all around.

"Not here," he replied quietly, trying hard to stuff those images back down. They came with feelings, with a quickening of his pulse and grief and a lot more he didn't want to deal with right now.

"Here we go," the driver warned him and came to a halt. "Hernandez is the big—"

"I see him, thanks." Robby raised his hand as Hernandez did a double take, recognizing him through the window of the ambulance.

They got out quickly and efficiently. Patients were already waiting for transport, first responders ready to load the gurneys in. Frank wasn't with them, so Robby went straight to the Operations Specialist and today's crisis manager.

"Hey."

Hernandez' handshake was firm. "Robby. Are you the relief? You look like hell."

"No. Just… trying to see if—" What was he doing here exactly? Stealing one of the doctors away? Looking for someone who was—at least today—definitely not under his command? "Looking for Langdon, actually."

"Relieving him?"

"Relieving him home, if possible." He wasn't here to overstep, so he phrased it as a question.

Hernandez nodded. "Yeah, we're only transporting the last few. We're already started building back. Most of the first shift are already on their way out. He's in Tent B over there." Hernandez pointed.

Robby thanked him and followed the direction to the right tent. When he entered, he only found one nurse standing by a foldable table, sorting through triage cards.

When he did find Langdon, his pulse started hammering. Because Langdon didn't seem to be here as a doctor. He was lying on his side on one of the cots near the entrance; in Tent B for injured personnel.

He pointed at his doctor. "Langdon?" he asked the nurse with a voice little louder than a whisper. It came out as a breathy croak. His spiking anxiety had to be noticeable, because the nurse shook his head with a smile meant to calm him down.

"Just sleeping."

Sleeping.

Relief flooded Robby's whole body, warm and settling his nerves.

"Second shift came in to relieve the first and he was already here with a firefighter, so…" The nurse tipped his chin at the cot to indicate that Robby was seeing the result of that.

"Thanks."

Robby didn't waste any more time with small talk, but made his way over to the cot quickly. He crouched down at chest height and steadied himself on the cot. "Hey, Frank."

Frank's eyes blinked open, the tiniest of movements. Everything about him was dusty. He'd apparently washed his eyes out at some point. "Hey, Robby. What are you doing here?" He showed a half smile, half yawn, that tugged at Robby's heartstrings.

"Came to drive you home."

"Oh, I would've—"

"Driven home after a cat nap? Yeah, not happening."

Frank shifted with a groan and slowly sat up. "I'm so tired." He looked up as Robby stood.

"Yeah, I can only imagine."

As soon as Frank was sitting upright on the cot and both feet were planted on the floor, he slumped. "Uh… what time is it?"

"Past nine."

A deep, heavy sound escaped from Frank's chest. He made a grab for his backpack and pulled it up with him as he stood. Robby noted absentmindedly that it was the same type of go bag that Jack had, with a LANGDON patch sticking to the Velcro on the front. "If you're serious about driving me home, I'm not saying no." He rummaged in his backpack, swaying with the movement and grumpy when he didn't immediately find the car keys.

"I am," Robby replied and held out his hand when he heard a familiar jingle.

Frank pressed the keys into his hand a moment later. Uncoordinated, he zipped his backpack closed again and tugged the strap over one shoulder. "Ready when you are."

They said their goodbyes and left the tent, Langdon blinking and looking around, the area now unfamiliar in daylight and without last night's torrential downpour. The big Station Wagon was recognizable, parked at the edge of the impromptu parking lot that the first responders had created. One of the first to have arrived, it looked like.

Before they made their way across, Frank stopped to look back down into the ravine, where fire fighters were clearing the area. Everything was coated in foam and black, sticky ash. The smell of burned wood and gasoline hung in the air. The site of the explosion was easily recognizable. Many of the cars were cut open, metal peeled back like food cans. The flash flood had thankfully already abated; small rivulets were finding their way through the mess. At the edge of the ravine, a crane was being set up to bring up the cars.

"Still what you wanted?" Robby asked quietly. Because now was the perfect time to ask that question—the disaster was over, the after effects still there, the memory clear.

Frank looked over. "You were with MSF, right?"

Robby nodded. "Not for very long."

Frank looked like he was torn between asking why he'd stopped and why he'd come back, but he did neither. He stood close enough to Robby for him to smell the gasoline that had soaked into his clothes.

Robby tilted his head back, trying not to let this moment refresh the horrors. "I saw… some things I couldn't unsee. I liked helping, but I realized I wasn't the right person for it. I need results. And MSF feels like trudging through mud at times. They need someone more idealistic, perhaps. People who think they can change things." He huffed. "Long answer."

"I like teaching," Frank said suddenly. "I love working in the ER." He pushed his hair back, leaving both hands interlaced on his head. "When I came back, I wasn't sure of things anymore. In my ability, in my judgment, my gut. I wasn't sure if I could trust myself with the same stressors. It got a little better on the night shift. Sorry."

Robby ignored the apology. He was aware that had something to do with that uncertainty. He and Santos and the way they were around him in the beginning.

He looked at Robby. "And I was so worried about you. I felt like I was still hurting you and… I couldn't do that." He tipped his head to the side.

Robby's breath hitched.

"You seemed to be doing well, you know? Caring for everybody. Coaching Whitaker, showing him. But it was just… you burning a little brighter and faster and—" Frank suddenly stopped. His voice had gotten tight towards the end. He looked away from Robby now, hiding his face.

"I know," Robby said. "The sabbatical…"

"You were going to be gone before I got back, Jack said." Frank looked at him with a watery smile. "You almost—"

Robby nodded. "I'm better now."

"Yeah. I know." Frank blinked and wiped his eyes. He looked exasperated with himself, with his emotions. "Sorry, I'm tired. I haven't slept."

"Thank you."

"Don't say that." Langdon pulled snot up his nose, looking embarrassed by the sniffling sound.

"And now?" Robby asked.

"Now?" Frank's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Yeah. You said you weren't sure of things anymore, of your skills. Now?"

Frank took a breath and let himself be distracted by the question. "I've still got it."

Robby laughed. "That's the lesson?"

"It is. I think." Frank smacked Robby lightly in the arm with the back of his hand, uncoordinated in his sleep deprived state. "I got my mojo back."

"Don't think you ever really lost it, Frank." He sighed. "But I get it."

Frank's hand moved to hold onto Robby's arm, fingers tight in the fabric. "You did, too."

"I did, too," Robby agreed. He thought back the past couple of months, the things his therapist had recommended, the changes he'd made to his life. Yeah, he was getting his mojo back, more every day.

They kept walking towards the car, Frank slowly veering off at an angle to get to the passenger side.

"I'm glad I did," he added belatedly and looked over. "I'm glad you did."

"Not so sure about the rest of it," Frank suddenly said. "I was stationed at Hasan that first tour in Afghanistan. Typical FOB, really. Very little to do on some days, just… training and more training and even more training. This is similar. Not the steady work of an ED, but… I guess they just train us for when they need us." He shrugged. "And it reminds me of basic. When we're in Baltimore now, we eat at the Army chow hall. I'm not sure if you've noticed, I put on ten pounds of muscle."

Robby felt his cheeks grow warm. But still. He looked at Frank across the hood of the car and boldly told him, "Oh, believe me, I've noticed." With a little smirk, because he could.

There it was again, that pesky flirting. He got in then, but not before he noted the wide-open surprise on Frank's face.

"You're not allowed to do that," Frank said once they were both sitting. It sounded jovial but serious.

"I'm not?"

There was a long enough silence on the passenger side of the car that Robby looked over. Frank was looking at his hands, deep in thought. "You and Jack are…" He sighed. "Not if you don't mean it."

Robby put the key in and turned it over. Did he mean it? What was he doing? Was he going somewhere with these thoughts? "Let me drive you home first," he finally said and turned the car around. For being such a ship, as Jack liked to call it, the massive Defender drove surprisingly smooth.

They were on their way back to the city, when Frank suddenly asked, "How are the renovations coming along?"

"Well. The kitchen is next, but that takes… more. You know, time thinking about it, time off, clearing it out."

"A vacation." A moment later, Frank amended that to, "A renovacation."

Robby nodded.

Truth was, the kitchen project was bigger, because he wanted to open up the whole living area—tear down part of the wall between kitchen and living room, open the house up even more than it already was.

"Sounds good."

"I'll show you when it's done," Robby promised. They could do a little BBQ to celebrate if he got it done by fall.

The atmosphere in the car grew heavy with something unspoken. He looked over briefly to find Frank looking at him. "What?" he asked and concentrated on the road again. 

"I don't…" Frank hesitated, started again. "You can show me the unfinished project, too, you know?" he murmured. "It doesn't have to be perfect to be shown off."

Robby didn't know what to do with that. It took a moment for him to realize what this was. "You want to see it, hm?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Frank nod. "Yeah. I'd like to… you don't have to let me part of it, but if you wanted to… I'd like to."

"Now?"

"I won't be able to sleep anyway. My head's still full. I won't come down from this for a while."

"Alright." Robby turned into the next Whole Foods parking lot they came across and he reached back to grab the ratty, oversized, ex-boyfriend jacket he remembered from their first stargazing together. "Here," he said. "Nap. I'll be right back with breakfast."

At that, Frank's stomach rumbled. "Oh, wow," Frank laughed at himself, tipping his head back and tugging the jacket around his shoulder. "Wow. That was on cue!"

"Be right back."

When Robby returned to the car fifteen minutes later, Frank was sleeping in the passenger seat. He was wearing a beanie, the rim of it smooshed against the window. The huge jacket was covering him. When Robby opened the door, he jerked awake.

"Did you bring food?"

Robby held up the bags. "It'll be food once it's seen a pan," he promised.

"Showing me the kitchen for real then," Frank said with a pleased smile. "You're not any less tired than I am, though. You could've just bought something frozen. Or cold."

Robby shrugged. "This takes fifteen minutes, that takes fifteen minutes. Makes very little difference."

"If you say so," Frank returned and eyed the bags.

He was quiet the rest of the way, looking out the window. "Tonight was good."

"Yeah?"

"In my first interview, Hernandez asked if I had any PTSD from the accident. If… you know, if the smell or the sight of chaos would be some sort of trigger. Guess they have to ask that now." Frank shifted in his seat. "But to be honest, I don't remember any of it. I was so out of it. And last night showed me that I can do this job. So, it was good."

Robby nodded. He couldn't do more than that.

"Still not entirely happy on a helicopter, though," Frank amended. "Don't tell Hernandez."

"Don't worry, I'm considering this a privileged conversation."

"As a doctor?"

"As a friend," Robby corrected. He slowed down as they drove past the last few houses before his. He was too tired to try and reverse the Station Wagon into his driveway the way Frank usually did; he just let it roll into the driveway.

When he had turned the engine off, he caught Frank looking at him. "Hm?"

"Nothing." Frank's lips kept that upward curl, however. It occurred to Robby then that with all that had happened in the past few months, he had never actually told Frank that he'd forgiven him for what had happened. He hadn't even consciously thought about it that way; it had simply happened. Given their shouting match before Frank had gotten help and the frosty welcome, the scare that had been the fourth of July, Frank probably hadn't thought Robby would ever let him in again. Maybe that was it.

Never mind that this 'friendship' seemed to rapidly be turning into something else.

As they got out of the car and Robby grabbed the bags from the back, he felt Frank's eyes linger on him.

Robby woke when Jack came home. He woke… on one couch, eyes on the other on the other side of the couch table, where Frank was sleeping, dead to the world, his back to the room, face turned into the cushions.

"What's this?" Jack asked, amused.

Robby groaned and stretched out a hand to reach the glass of water he'd put there.

Jack looked entirely too approving of this, the way his eyes were fixed on their sleeping guest, before he tore them away and looked down at Robby. "Everything alright?"

Robby nodded. He did it again, to feel the sensation of the back of his head scrubbing against the cushion. The gesture turned into a yawn and a stretch. Then he let his head fall to the side to observe the man on the other couch. Whatever he'd seen on Jack's face just now, he felt the same way.

On the table in front of him, there were plans for the open living area, alongside catalogs and printouts of 3D renderings the planner at the kitchen center had given him.

Plans for a rebuild that would open up the house for whatever the future would hold.

* * *

Two weeks later, he was sitting at the computer when he received a request for time off from Frank in his Inbox. Via email, because Frank was away for his fellowship for another day and would then take two night shifts. The request was for the week after his return: He needed three days off for a funeral in North Carolina.

Robby replied and offered his condolences, four days off, and to take the dog. He had barely sent the email when he received a phone call from Frank. Startled, he picked up the vibrating phone, checking if anyone saw who the caller was. Dana was raising a challenging eyebrow at him because just two hours earlier he'd told a med student off for always being on her phone.

"Are you sure?" was what Frank opened with instead of a hello.

"I wouldn't offer—"

Frank didn't even let him finish the sentence, before he interrupted. His voice was breathy, fast, like he was rushing the conversation along; never a good sign. "Yeah. Yeah. Dog is already excited."

Robby deliberately slowed his speech down. "Liar. Dog doesn't know my name."

"I know, that's why I asked him if he wanted to go to Robby's for a yard and a treat." He emphasized the two words the dog would definitely know.

"Wow. I sent that email five seconds ago. I thought you were in Baltimore."

Frank sighed on the other end of the line. "Alright. You caught me. But he will be excited when I tell him."

"Mmmhm. I see. That's all I am to him. A yard and a treat."

By now, with the clues she was given, Dana knew who he was talking to, so he slowly got up to get out of her hair and away from the nurses' hub. Her knowing laugh followed him.

"And walks. He loves walking with you because you don't run."

"A slow treat-giver with a backyard."

"I know. You're perfect."

That derailed the conversation into very different territory, so Robby wrangled it back. "Do you want four days? We can move your shifts around for another." He walked towards the quietest hallway he could find, close to the staircase. He slowed his part of the conversation down as much as he could and was glad Frank followed suit.

"No, no. Three is fine. I'm done helping them out. They need to deal with the house and the rest of it. I'm just going to the funeral and that's it." Frank sounded unconcerned.

Robby huffed. "Frank, stop for a moment. Are you alright?"

There was a pause on the other end. Then a quiet exhale. "I think so."

"How are you dealing with the death itself? Not the arrangements or the house…"

"I knew it was coming. I think that makes a difference?" There were sounds on the other end that let Robby assume Frank had sat down in his car. "He reached ninety-four. And that's a good age. I guess, what makes me sad about it is that he didn't do much with it in the past twenty years."

Robby didn't want to push. He waited Frank out.

"Whenever I saw him, he was sitting on his couch, inside. Not… no hobby, no friends, just always watching TV or doing crosswords."

"Yeah?"

"That makes me think about missed chances and not doing enough, and… ah, I don't know." Frank sighed. "There just seems to be so much… wasted time. Like, if he was happy, fine. But it feels like he wasn't."

"Are you worried you're missing chances?" Robby asked. "Because you're doing a lot."

"Yeah, work stuff." Frank gave another heavy sigh. "Don't get me wrong. I'm… I'm glad I am where I am. But. I feel like I missed… If I hadn't… if—"

"Hey," Robby interrupted the disjointed thoughts Frank seemed to try and force into coherent sentences. He got the gist, he thought. "Ten months. You got help. You found yourself. A lot of good came out of it."

"I fucked up with you, though."

"But we've got a good thing going on now, don't we?" Robby couldn't stay in the ED for this, no matter how quiet the hallway was. He slipped outside the doors into the staircase. "I'm glad we are where we are now," he added. Friends. They were friends now. On the way to more, maybe.

"Okay," Frank replied. That seemed to help; or maybe it didn't. Robby hated that this was a phone call and he couldn't see Frank's face. Something was off and Robby didn't know what it was. "Okay," Frank said again. "I am, too." The sad undercurrent in his voice stayed.

"Good." Robby tipped his head back. "Well. Bring pizza when you bring the dog? Make it a tradition?"

That won him a soft laugh on the other end. "Will do. I'll let you know. Not sure yet when my flight leaves."

"Doesn't matter, I'm flexible. Besides, we'll see each other at hand off before then."

"Tell Jack hi from me?"

"Will do."

"Robby?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

* * *

Robby kept his phone in his pocket for the three days that Frank was in North Carolina. He didn't want to miss a call when he'd promised he'd be there for Frank if he needed to talk.

Frank never called.

Instead, on the third day, Robby got an early message from Frank, saying he would pick up Dog around eight and that he'd bring food. And while it was a sweet message, with a hello and a thank you and a see you later, it felt cold; as if, for some reason, Frank was keeping a distance.

"What's got you frowning like that?" Dana asked, appearing next to him with a chart was clearly looking to hand off to him. "And on your phone no less. Who is this new Dr. Robby… glued to his phone all the time."

Over the top of it, he could see Santos straighten. Her lips did that thing that meant she was enjoying whatever was going on. She liked it when he got his shit straightened out by Dana.

"He looked happy before he read the message," she told Dana and tilted her chin up, as if she might catch a glimpse of the screen—which was absolutely not physically possible the way he was holding it.

"Ah?" That got Dana interested. "Let me guess, Langdon's not coming back early?"

"What, no. He's picking up the dog."

Santos scoffed, her tone the most surprised she could muster. "You're like this because you're going to miss the dog?"

"No." He looked between the two. They were both caring, intuitive people. They could both read others well. "He's just being a little off."

At the same time as Santos asked "Off how?," Dana offered, "Well, he was at a funeral yesterday." She looked between Santos and Robby, as if daring them to say what they were thinking. "Of someone close to him. Give him some grace," she told them both.

Santos looked between the two, hand gesture freeing her from any wrongdoing. "I didn't say anything." She tipped her chin at Robby.

"It's not the funeral. At least I don't think it is," Robby defended. And because he'd learned he needed to build up Frank's 'street cred' with Santos, he told her, "Two years ago, he… came back to shift after a funeral and offered a woman he could test her raw milk shake for fecal matter."

Santos gasped out a laugh.

Dana immediately turned to her to undermine Robby's story. "Which was unprofessional and is not to be emulated."

"Absolutely," Robby agreed. "Very unprofessional. And we care about patient satisfaction scores. Which is also why we should not be sitting around the hub and instead check on our patients' well-being." He realized in that moment that he was looking at Santos over the tops of his glasses exactly the same way Dana did with him.

It did get Santos moving, however. "I hear you," she muttered. "Loud and clear."

Once she was gone, Dana sidled up to him. "I see what you're doing. But I think it's better now. She's…"

"She went ahead with a procedure before asking twice yesterday," Robby noted. "Until something happens, she'll continue doing it. You and I both know that I've been giving her too much leeway."

Dana nodded. "I know. I'm keeping an eye on her. I meant with Langdon… I caught her actively following him to cases a few times when he gets a trauma in."

That was promising new information.

Dana didn't let him get away with the distraction. She crossed her arms, tapping the chart against her hip. "So. What's this about Langdon's text making you unhappy?"

"He's being distant. He was before he left. I'm worried."

"Worried how?"

"I thought, we…" Robby didn't know how to put in words what he'd been feeling lately. That they'd grown close lately? That there was an element of flirting in every conversation? That he'd slowly but steadily been falling for the guy now that they were both doing better, and now he didn't quite know what to do?

"You and Jack really need to talk to him about what you two are doing," Dana admonished. Her tone was, if anything, disappointed. "It's not fair to him. You two are in a relationship. What's he supposed to think? He can't know that you and Jack are… hell, I don't even know what you are." Her arms spread out. Open-minded, that gesture was probably supposed to say. "But he probably thinks you're toying with him without ever planning to follow through. And you know he loves you." Her insistence sounded almost angry now. Before he could protest or answer, she handed him the chart she'd been holding, effectively interrupting whatever he was going to say by tapping it with her pointer finger. "Think about that while you make your rounds. And talk to Jack."

As she walked away, she threw over her shoulder, "And then put that boy out of his misery!"

Robby looked down at his phone, at the 'thank you' and the 'see you later,' and knew Dana was right. He was hurting Frank with his indecisiveness and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He remembered what Frank had told him when they'd gotten into the car at the bridge accident. You're not allowed to do that. Not if you don't mean it.

He had meant it, but he also hadn't done anything about it since.

Step one: Talk to Jack. That one should be relatively easy, because Robby was certain that Jack was only waiting for him to make up his mind.

He sent a text. 'Come in early? Coffee?'

The phone pinged with Jack's reply a few moments later. 'I'll bring some.'

And because he felt proactive and was in a good mood and already at the hub, Robby grabbed a ruler and crouched down to unstick the drawer that no one had been able to open since yesterday. He wasn't only handy at home.

"This is decaf," Robby complained as he noticed the according check mark on the side of the tall cup. He took it anyway because coffee was coffee.

"I know," Jack replied and took a demonstrative sip of his own caffeinated coffee. "It's seven p.m. for you."

"For you, too."

"Yeah. I know." Jack took another leisurely sip, visibly pleased with his own sense of humor. "Alright. You wanted to talk? I was half afraid you had a shitshow of a shift and needed more time to go through everything."

As if. That was most definitely a lie. "No, you weren't." Robby magnanimously offered for Jack to leave through the automatic doors first. "After you."

Jack rumbled, but went on ahead and led the way to the nearest bench. It was sufficiently out of the way that they would notice if anyone came to talk to them. "So?"

"It's about Frank," he began.

Jack's lips tugged up in that familiar smirk. "Oh, is it now? Tell me more."

"You're an asshole."

Jack cackled.

"Incredible," Robby huffed.

"No, no. Please, Robby. Tell me how you've finally realized that you've fallen for the guy. And are now asking for my permission to do something about it."

"Does this conversation even need me?" Robby was, not exactly upset at Jack's nonchalance, but at least a little taken aback. Had he been that obvious?

"What's not needed is my permission." Jack slouched further down and drank from his coffee. "Talk to him. See if this leads anywhere. If he wants only you, if he wants to join, if he can imagine being with the two of us."

Robby made a noise of protest at that; it involuntarily came out of his throat like a reflex. He did not want to do this without Jack. They had just found each other again.

"I mean it. Let him decide first. And then you and I can have another talk."

"What if he doesn't want anything from me?"

"Then he's an idiot." Jack corrected quickly, adding, "No. Robby. You know him better than that. The way he looks at you?" He took a breath and cleared his throat. "The way he laughs even at your unfunny jokes?"

Robby ignored that dig, because he did not make any unfunny jokes. "Since when… when did you know that I was falling for him?"

Jack was quiet for a moment. He tipped the cup back before swirling it in his hand. "You're not going to like this."

"Tell me." Was it when they were stargazing on the hood of Frank's car? Or before that, during one of those hand offs with the night shift? Maybe Robby had felt a little tug then, at the beginning of Frank's fellowship.

"It was one shift… I came in late because I had an appointment and you two stayed late to cover for me. You stood at the back of one of the trauma rooms and watched him explain some technique to an intern."

Robby frowned. He didn't remember that at all. Had he been that much in his head recently that he'd completely forgotten that? "Was that before or after he came back from Baltimore in March?"

Jack sighed. "Brother, that was maybe three years ago. Back when he was an R3… if that."

That shut Robby up. That couldn't be. Suddenly, Jack's hand was in his hair, cupping the back of his head to tug him closer. He felt Jack's curls against his temple. "You've been so closed off for so long. All of this… caring for everybody but yourself." Jack's breathing was slow and steady, calming. "I'm glad you see it now."

"He was married."

"I know." Jack tipped his head back and gave a low groan. "He was so stuck in his head, too. Trying to learn everything at once. Remember when he had his textbooks at the hub? Guy never knew how to take a break. Still doesn't."

Robby remembered. Remembered Frank saying yes to everything Robby pulled him into, soaking up his methods like a sponge. He remembered pushing that clever student for more. He had thought that was a good thing. What a fucking moron he he'd been, that he'd never bothered to worry that Frank was burning the candle from both ends until there was nothing left.

Finally, Robby found his voice. It sounded tight to his own ears. "I'll talk to him tonight."

"Do that. And once you've talked, either… I don't know. Call me or text me or wait until I'm home. Don't let him overthink this. Give him an out."

"He's still my resident. I think." Only administration and Gloria knew how that fellowship was even working.

"Barely, and only for another three months. Besides, his evaluations are Hernandez' job now. Have you talked about an attending position yet?"

"Alongside the fellowship?"

"After. He's in the PHP for another two and a half years." Jack shrugged. "That's usually how it works, isn't it? They need to put him somewhere and you'll need a junior attending anyway. Because you can't have Parker."

Robby groaned. That was… "Too much, Jack. I need to do that one thing first."

"You do that." Jack slapped Robby's thigh and held out his hand for the cup. "Get. And make sure the damn rocket is tired out before Langdon takes him, otherwise he's not getting any sleep tonight."

"Will do. Will do all of those things," Robby replied and received a peck on his lips. Then Jack got up, popping a joint followed by another with a big stretch.

Robby stuck his cup into Jack's with a "Thank you" and pushed himself off the bench.

"Talk to you later or tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Robby vowed. He would not bother Jack with his panicky thoughts during the night shift.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Jack called over his shoulder.

Robby rolled his eyes. What was it with people throwing advice at him today? First Dana, now Jack. He left Jack's shout unanswered and went to his car. This was going to be fine.

An hour later, the doorbell rang and Dog gave an excited bark before hiding behind the couch.

"I read an article on the plane that was like… six signs you'll regret becoming a doctor. I mean, I read the headlines." That was what Frank opened with as Robby opened the door. He immediately pressed the two pizza boxes at Robby and crouched down to greet the dog, who was panting excitedly, twirling around his legs.

"So?" Robby asked as he stepped back and watched Frank slowly dance his way inside with the dog.

Frank got up with a groan, hand pressed to the small of his back. "None of them. None of them applied to me. So, I guess I'll be fine?"

Robby laughed. "Would've been a little late for that eye opener."

Frank huffed. "Hey. Hi," he greeted Robby belatedly. He stepped out of his shoes and into the front room. "Sorry I'm late. Too many cabin trolleys… I got in line too late and had to hand mine in."

"At least you were on the plane." Unlike Robby, who'd gotten rebooked when he'd been at a conference in California two years before.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Sorry." Frank winced sympathetically at the reminder. He looked towards the dog who was now bringing them a toy that was… damn, the soft Home Depot ball that Robby had bought without Frank knowing about it. Frank ignored the addition to Dog's dog toy collection.

"How was he?"

"A very good boy, as always." Dog wagged his tail softly in agreement, looking between them.

Frank softened. The weight of the last few days was still settled on his shoulders. He peered at Robby. "Thanks again."

"Good boys all around," Robby rumbled quietly and before he could see Frank's reaction to that, he quickly turned around and moved towards the kitchen. What the hell was he doing.

Frank trailed after him. There was a little scuffle and clacking nails and then the ball sailed across the floor with Dog sprinting after it. "How… how are the renovations going?"

"Haven't started on the new project yet." Robby gestured at the wide doorway between the kitchen-slash-dining-room area and the living room. "This wall needs to go first and that's a bigger thing. Maybe in two months."

"Are you moving in with Jack for the duration?" Frank asked.

"Probably, yeah. I don't want to go to a hotel for a week. Or however long it takes."

Frank hummed in understanding and wandered towards the living room to peek into the semi-darkness while Robby opened up the pizza boxes and grabbed knives. He trailed back again, looking around, restless.

"You don't need to talk about how it was," Robby said. "But if you want to, I'm here."

Frank made that humming sound again, almost reluctantly coming to join Robby at the table. "Thanks. There's nothing to talk about, really. It went fine."

"Family doing okay?"

"They're fine." Frank seemed to think of something, because he snorted. "They're the… call-if-they-need-something type." He waved his hand. "And some of them are still upset about Abby and the kids."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah." Frank shuffled his slice of pizza around, absentmindedly soaking up sauce. "I'm glad this is over," he said quietly. "Whatever I do, it's never enough."

Robby stayed quiet, watching and waiting, giving Frank time. They had never talked about family and Robby was only now becoming aware that maybe there was a reason Frank had always thought he had to deal with problems by himself; why he didn't think he could ask for help.

"I'm being maudlin."

"It's alright."

Frank smiled grimly. "I told them I was done. Tired of being the one who has to hold everything together."

Robby nodded. "You can lean on me and Jack, you know that."

"You, too, though." Frank looked at him, his eyes searching. "I feel like I always lean on you. You can lean on me, too. That's what it's all about."

"I'm starting to," Robby said honestly. He did rely on Frank more, mostly at work, but he knew he could tell him things now. Tell him to take over if he was overwhelmed or needed a break; and he did.

Eventually, with the silence stretching and the slices of pizza slowly disappearing, Robby decided to brave that talk. "Still thinking about missed chances?"

Frank looked up quickly. "Robby…"

"What? You and I… we both know what we've been doing these past couple of months. Even Princess and Perlah are gossiping about the 'flirting.'" He hooked his fingers in the air.

"You're with Jack, though. You told me. Twenty years or something, finally looking to be a stable couple." Frank crossed his arms and slid them forward. He peeked at Robby from under his eyelids. "And I'm really happy for you. It's just… I guess, hard to watch?" A sad smile tugged his lips up, never reaching his eyes. "Seeing someone you… would like to see yourself with, with someone else." He tipped his head down and watched his finger running along the grain of the wood under his hand. "I guess I had a little hope at some point."

Stunned by that revelation, Robby decided to push ahead and put all the cards on the table. "You told me not to flirt if I'm not serious. I'm telling you I am serious. Jack knows. He would… be interested in this, too. Let you decide what you want."

Frank pulled back, looking anywhere but directly at Robby. "I don't want to be your pity fuck. Or third wheel. Or something to spice things up. Or—"

"Frank, stop right there. You're none of those things." Robby extended his hand on table, trying to meet Frank's half way.

"You said we were in a good place now. I don't want to ruin things."

Robby frowned. "How would you ruin things?"

"I'm not…" Frank fidgeted. "Reliable. A few months ago, you didn't even want to work with me. I'm afraid this is just the distance talking. It works great now, but see me again every day and you'll change your mind. I'll say something fucked up and hurt you or Jack." He pushed himself back and upright. "You two have got something really good. Don't mess it up with me."

"That's what you think?" Robby wondered where Frank got the idea from that he was such a mess, almost two years after their fight. Two years of therapy and doing the work and staying sober.

Frank ducked his head. "Not all the time."

"But you think that right now? Despite the fellowship and how happy people are when you're on shift?"

"What if I fuck up?"

"Well, what if I do? You know I have bad days, too. I get impatient or overwhelmed or…" He wasn't ready to say it out loud yet, at least not to anyone but his therapist, but he'd almost killed himself in July. He'd been ready. And now, here they were, discussing the future.

A grin escaped Frank.

"You've become such an anchor. You don't even know, do you? It's good to work with you. You've really grown into that senior leadership role."

Frank's smile was proud. "Yeah. It's been going well."

"I told you that day you cause breakdowns in people and nothing, nothing, is further from the truth. I was angry and out of line. And I've regretted saying that ever since." Robby swallowed. He should have never said that. And he should have never said it to someone who was so obviously struggling. They had both hurt each other, trying to cut as deeply as they could.

"Guess that wasn't your day either."

Robby laughed out loud. "No. Fuck no, it wasn't." A vivid memory of Jack talking him down the roof, of hanging his stethoscope up, of… the dark time that had come after that. Ten months were a long time to plan an end. It was still hard to know that if things had gone differently, he wouldn't be here now.

Frank let his arm flop onto the table and reached out with his pizza sticky fingers. Robby put his own hand on top. Frank's palm was warm under his. Sticky flour crumbled messily against his finger pads.

If he had done what he'd planned to do with his motorcycle, he wouldn't be able to feel this now.

Frank looked at him. "Let's think about this some, yeah? Call this officially flirting."

"Pre-dating phase?"

Frank's smile was slow and intent. "Yeah."

"Alright." If he said he hadn't been expecting something more decisive, he would be lying. But he would also take it, if that was what Frank wanted. He could dial up the flirting and maybe there would be an opportunity for a kiss at some point. He'd do his best to drive Frank a little crazy. Right now, with the memory of last July so fresh, it felt like they suddenly had time to do this properly.

Frank bounced his hand against Robby's, curling his fingers up. He seemed to be looking for something to say, but instead, he yawned suddenly and covered his mouth with his other hand. "Sorry."

"Long day."

Frank nodded. "I need to get going. Catch up on some sleep. But… I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

"Tomorrow at seven," Robby confirmed. He was looking forward to another shift together.

They cleared away the empty boxes and filled the dishwasher, cleaning up the mess they'd made, before Robby walked Frank to the front door. Nails clacked across the floor speedily.

"Ready to go home?" Frank asked the dog.

Dog answered with a wet sounding sneeze that Robby interpreted as no, but Frank apparently not. Because he said, "I thought so," and opened the front door. "Stay." Dog shuffled around them, wandering outside onto the porch, staying within reach but definitely expanding the command to fit his idea of it.

"Thank you for dog sitting."

"Happily," Robby replied.

Frank's hand wandered to his cheek before he slowly and deliberately leaned in for a chaste kiss to Robby's cheek. "And… thank you for the talk. And… I look forward to…" He trailed off and tipped back onto his heels. "Seeing where we're going? I guess?"

Robby put a hand to his heart. "I knew romance wasn't dead."

"Oh, shut up." Frank huffed. "I'm running on five hours of sleep. This is still fresh. It's a lot to take in."

Robby tipped his head. "Is it? You didn't suspect a thing?"

Frank's line of sight dropped to his shoes. There was a smattering of pink across his cheeks now. Robby's gaze was stuck on his eyelashes. "Maybe I was hoping… after you drove me home that time from the bridge collapse."

Robby huffed. "Good." He felt he'd been obvious that day.

"You know I come with kids, right?" Frank offered, like a way out.

"I know. That doesn't scare me." He put all of his confidence into these words. He liked Tanner. He barely knew Penelope, but he'd been to birthday parties and a zoo visit here and a get-together at the park there. "I come with Jack… if that's something you'd like."

Frank snorted. "That doesn't scare me either." He had the gall to wink at Robby. Then he gave a groan. "Alright, I'm going now." Frank pointed over his shoulder at the Station Wagon. "I'm leaving. And I'll see you tomorrow. And then we'll… maybe grab lunch together." He took a step back and another, slowly. Dog swished against his legs.

"Looking forward to it." Robby cleared his throat. "Looking forward to seeing where we're going, I mean."

"Oh, wow." Frank took another few steps backwards, eyes crinkling with mirth. "I see how it is."

"Do you?" Robby leaned against the doorframe. The house felt warm against his back, compared to the cool night air in front of him. He crossed his arms. watching Frank walk backwards.

"Good night."

"Good night."

They left it there, because at some point, it was becoming childish and ridiculous and too flirty. Robby chest was burning with a thrilling warmth. His eyes stayed on Frank as he packed Dog away in the cage in the back of the car, as he gave a little wave, backing out of Robby's driveway, as they drove off. When the red lights had disappeared in the distance, he looked up at the stars briefly. Just in case he could catch one of those meteors.

He didn't, but maybe he didn't need one anymore.

* * *

"This is all you're bringing?"

Robby swung the bag into the back of the Station Wagon with a loose "That's all I need." When he turned around, facing the open garage, he found Frank turned away from him, his gaze frozen on the motorcycle.

"Do you still drive that?" Frank asked and looked back at him. His tone was careful and neutral, but Robby heard the fear in it. He heard the hesitation.

"Not anymore right now, no." He looked at it, collecting dust. He'd promised quite a few people he wouldn't. "Maybe when I'm doing better," he said.

It seemed to be the right answer because Frank nodded. His voice was tight when he answered. "I'm sure it's… nice. On sunny days."

"Frank…" Robby took a step closer.

"I'm glad you're here." Frank looked at him. "We love you." He reached out and ran his hand over Robby's short hair. The fingertips rubbed lightly over his skin, before he rested his warm hand on the back of Robby's head. "You've got to stick around for me."

"I plan to." Robby let himself be held, let that feeling wash over him. "I'm ready to hear those things now, too."

Frank laughed wetly. "Alright."

"I wasn't. But I am now." He held Frank tightly. "I'm here to stay," he murmured against his ear, pleased to feel a little shudder under his arm. He let go and rubbed over Frank's hip.

Frank tipped his head back before dipping in and pressing a kiss to Robby's cheek. "Alright. I'll park the car on the curb. When are the workers coming?"

Robby looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes tops."

"And Jack?"

"I think he's buying enough for a neighborhood cookout. He sounded way too excited to be able to BBQ for more than three people. Not sure he'll be here before eleven."

Dog had wandered up to him, as always on the side of the treats pocket. Robby looked down at the goldendoodle and sighed. Keeping the dog from bothering the workers would be part of his job today. He watched Frank pull out of the driveway and park a little down the curb, to not hinder the workers. When he came back, he hid a yawn behind a hand.

Once he was close and they went back towards the open garage, he bumped his side into Robby's.

"Are you excited about the wall coming down?"

Robby grinned. He was ready for that living area to be open from the front door to the living room. "I am, yeah."

"Excited about sleeping at my place tonight?"

"That, too." He had planned on simply staying here, mildly inconvenienced. The house would be a dusty mess for two or three days. Every surface inside was covered in plastic sheets and taped down. But at the same time, it was also his project and he wanted to see it through.

He would have stayed at Jack's, but Jack had pushed him towards Frank again. It'll be good for you two.

"Excited about kissing me?"

Robby ducked his head. "Always." He tugged Frank towards him and pressed their lips together. He walked Frank backwards into the house, delighting in their little shuffle, peppering his lips with chaste smacks. "Always, you hear me?"

Frank beamed and let himself be danced inside.