Chapter Text
Frank did his best to keep his breathing even and his feet forward as he walked into the Pitt, the wave of familiarity washing over him in a haunting wave, nodding at Donnie and Cassie sitting in triage, ignoring their looks, gaze falling to the soft white fabric at his chest that bobbed slightly with each step he took. Inside his back pocket, the simple white envelope weighed him down, making each step feel like an impossible task.
“Hey, Dana.”
The Charge Nurse’s attention snapped up from the monitor in front of her at Frank’s greeting, eyes widening in surprise to find Frank standing there with hollow eyes and rolled shoulders, a baby with impossibly large cheeks and equally large green eyes attached to his chest in a carrier.
“Frank, what-?”
Frank’s hands didn’t tremble when he reached back and grabbed the envelope, handing it to Dana, whose eyes once again widened at the name sprawled across it in tight, neat letters.
“I know I’m off tomorrow, and Robby’s going on vacation for a few days…can you give this to him?”
Dana took the envelope, open concern on her face that had little to do with what she knew was in the envelope and everything to do with the man, no, boy, looking too young, too old, and completely broken in front of her. She watched as his hands moved absently to the baby’s onesie-covered feet, gently wrapping around them.
“Frank, kid, what’s going on?”
“It’s my resignation, Dana…”
“I know what it is.” Dana snapped, worry started to build in her stomach, “I need you to talk to me, kid, please.”
Frank rubbed a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. “I’m stepping down from Emergency Medicine…” Dana felt gutted. “I’m clean, I promise,”
“Oh, honey, I didn’t-”
“Yeah,” He countered, “part of you did. Presby has a clinic with an opening…shorter hours…day care…”
Dana nodded. “Whatever this is-”
Frank shook his head, stepping back. Stepping away. “Please, Dana, can you just give it to Robby?”
Dana nodded. The action is stiff and unnatural. “Yeah, sweetie, I’ll give it to Robby. Just please call me,” Frank opened his mouth and closed it at the expression that bloomed on her face. “Don’t shut me out, just call.”
“I promise.”
With that, Frank turned and headed back out before Robby could catch him. Safe in the knowledge that Robby wouldn’t reach out, he never reached out anymore. He didn’t bother to look at Cassie and Donnie, keeping his head down, one hand secure on Bea’s stomach, the other hand reaching out to wipe away a tear as sunlight hit his face warm and promising.
***
It took two hours for Dana to finally catch Robby alone, the man looking exhausted. Dana understood all too well. “Robby, we need to talk.”
Robby gave a little chuckle. “That can’t be good.”
He was expecting some sort of retort, only to find Dana looking at him with wet eyes and a look that broke his heart.
“Dana, what happened?”
Dana shook her head, “Frank stopped by.” She watched as Robby’s posture stiffened, the man retreating behind the mask he thought would keep him safe.
“It’s his day off.”
“Mmhmm,” Dana blew out a breath. “He asked me to give you this.” She handed Robby the plain envelope, watching his eyes widen in realisation, before he looked up at Dana, the mask once again firmly in place.
“I see, is that all?”
“No,” Dana admitted, her own tone hardening the sadness morphing into protective anger, “but I’m not going to waste both our time telling you something you’ll never want to hear.”
Robby physically pulled back from Dana, jaw clenching at the reprimand. “Was he-”
“No, he wasn’t fucking high, Robinavitch. He hasn’t relapsed. All but offered to pee in a cup.”
Robby nodded, holding up the resignation letter. “Got it.” The words were clipped, and in that moment, Dana came close to hating him.
“Trauma incoming,” Santos rushed up to the pair, MVA. They’re bringing in two.”
Neither Robby nor Dana spoke again, swiftly moving into position. The envelope weighed heavily in the pocket of Robby’s hoodie.
***
Robby sank into the kitchen chair with a silent groan, Jack three steps behind, quiet, knowing, giving Robby space. The kitchen smelled like Thai food, Jack getting back before Robby, the untouched takeout containers sitting neatly on the counter.
“Rough shift?”
“Frank came by.” Jack shifted to lean against the counter but still said nothing. He watched as Robby dug into his pocket and pulled out the unsealed envelope before tossing it on the table.
Jack didn’t move for a moment, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Robby’s name in dark ink against the white. He had started to watch as Frank began pulling further and further away in the last month and a half. He had become quiet, doing exactly what the job required of him and nothing more. He couldn’t remember when he heard Frank last laugh.
Was it before Frank had asked for time off for a funeral, before that? Was it a month ago when he asked to be transferred to the day shift because of new responsibilities?
“It’s his resignation letter.” Robby spat out. Robby’s anger snapped Jack out of his thoughts.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Jack pointed out, not liking the feeling starting to build in his chest. Robby’s laugh was cold and mirthless.
“I didn’t want him to come back to begin with.” He admitted quietly. “But he did, and now he’s running away again.”
“Open the fucking letter, Robby,” Jack commanded. Robby pinned him down with a glare.
“We both know what it is, Jack.”
Jack moved swiftly, snatching the letter off the counter and ripping it open, reading the letter. The feeling was stronger now, and cold panic started to engulf him, tightening his chest.
He missed the way Robby straightened in his chair as he continued to stare at the words.
“Jack, what is it?”
Jack tossed the paper on the table, not waiting for Robby to pick it up and read it for himself.
“Doctor Robinavitch,
This is my official notification of resignation. My last day will be July 5th- thank you.
Sincerely,
Francis B. Langdon.”
It was cold, impersonal, and final. Jake let out a breath as Robby read and reread the notice. “He gave this to me a month in advance?”
“It’s dated for a day after his residency is complete.”
Jack observed, and then realisation dawned cold and empty, pulling him down. No. No. He had missed it, he had fucking missed it. They all had missed it. The withdrawal, the quietness, the finality. Robby wasn’t looking at him; instead, he was staring at the letter, unmoving.
“I didn’t know his middle name started with a B.”
It was just a simple observation, quiet, broken, and it snapped something hot and ugly in Jack’s core. “Fuck this.” Jack snarled, storming out of the kitchen.
“Jack?” Robby called out in concern. “Where are you going?”
“To fucking talk to him.”
“Jack.” Robby’s hand reached out and grabbed Jack by the bicep, hard and unyielding. “It’s a decision to leave.”
“Is it?” Jack demanded the need to talk to Frank, to physically see and hear him, to not find Frank one night standing on that fucking roof or to have him in the ER on a stretcher, cold and unresponsive, a bottle of pills in his stomach was eating Jack alive now.
“Because wake the fuck up, brother, that’s not a resignation, that’s a goodbye.”
“Wha-” Robby went perfectly still, frozen at Jack’s implication, words dying on his lips. Jack pulled his arm away from Robby, leaving the man behind as he rushed out the door.
The drive to Frank’s apartment took too long, and the ride up the elevator was too slow. Jack didn’t have time to take in the building; it was close to the hospital, too close to get any real silence, and while clean, it was clearly run down from years of use.
Jack’s heart was beating too hard in his chest by the time he reached Frank’s door. It was late, but Jack’s fist pounded against the plain white door all the same. “It’s Jack. Open up. Come on, kid, open up.”
Jack’s fear died on the tip of his tongue when Frank opened the door. Purple circles betrayed how tired he was, the stubble on his chin making him look pale and sickly. Jack sucked in a breath when he saw how lean Frank was, the man, shirtless, carrying a crying baby against his chest.
“Jack?” He demanded, his voice rough with exhaustion, eyebrows coming together in a frown. “What the fuck?”