#michael langdon ask

[ghostlypawn]

#which could mean absolutely nothing at all

+bonus

[cbartonscoffee]

the pitt pride icons (2)

[greatvaluegirlfriend]

robby comes out of a horrific PTSD spiral, blood from an MCI covering his gown, actively flashing back to the death of his beloved mentor, and all he can think to say to frank langdon while looking into his pleading eyes is that his betrayal is the reason for his breakdown

bisexual men will do anything but go to therapy

[vernyhore]

Langdon is an R4 and has a 4 year old. He started his residency during covid and would do rapid tests religiously before going back home to his newborn.

Definitely has some heavy, unresolved trauma from that

He started the job full of bravado and confidence. He’d crushed every rotation, landed glowing letters of recommendation, matched at his top choice. He was ready.

He never imagined he’d walk straight into a global pandemic - watch the healthcare system buckle under the weight of it. The emergency department, already underfunded and chronically understaffed, overflowed with patients. And it kept getting worse. First, the beds ran out. Then the ventilators.

He took the PPE seriously. They all did. He got vaccinated as soon as he could, clung to every bit of protection he had. He kept a stash of rapid tests in his locker and took one after every shift—holding his breath, praying for a negative. Every. Single. Time.

He begged Abby to take Tanner and stay with her sister, but she wouldn’t go. She wouldn’t leave him. Eventually, he got sick. Then she did. They took turns - one caring for Tanner while the other lay on the couch, feverish and exhausted. And when he could stand again, he went right back to work.

When it finally did end, it was like waking from a fever dream.

But things had shifted. Robby had changed too. Langdon remembered meeting him as an MS4, thinking they’d clicked, that Robby might be a mentor, maybe even a friend. But after Adamson died, Robby just... disappeared. Pulled away. He was still there to offer guidance, to teach, to show him the ropes, but the cordial attending Langdon had met two years before was gone. Whatever connection they’d build, it was replaced by quiet professionalism that never let Langdon in. He kept trying to get this connection back as an R2, then R3, but Robby just wouldn’t bite.

And Langdon? He’d get so fixated on Robby that he didn’t allow himself to process. Abbot had said something about a baptism by fire to all the interns who had started that year. And he was fine, he really was.

As long as he kept moving.

[beedelia]

Langdon: Who the fuck— Robby: Language! Langdon: Whom the fuck— Robby: NO!

[xwilltruman]

i had a dream.

shendon and rabbot finding each other at a gay bar and they're all like this 🧍🏻🧍🏼 🧍🏻🧍🏻

they promise not to say anything despite the fact that half of PTMC already knows they're together

oh i absolutely love that yes. robby and langdon noticing each other like:

then robby and langdon being bothered about it and bringing it up throughout the whole evening and even after the night ends and they go back home + jack and shen being totally chill and not even sparing it a second thought

[youcancallmedrrobby]

Michael "Mandated Rehab for You 😠; Deathbike for Me 😌" Robinavitch

[delinquentkru]

Like Robby being appalled in that preview when Langdon pointed out his issues 😭 like Langdon is not one to talk but he made some valid points. How is he gonna tell Langdon to get help when he won’t even get help

robby consistently gives out advice that he will never take himself and it’s honestly inspiring:

“langdon, you need to get professional help” (robby should be in an in-patient mental health facility but won’t even try talk therapy)

“collins/dana, you should go home because you’ve had a rough day” (robby shouldn’t have even come into work today but will never, ever leave)

“mohan, you need to move more quickly” (robby spends at least five episodes talking to the same fucking patients, i s2g)

“langdon, you should never yell at a younger doctor for not following the chain of command in front of others” (robby does this to mohan, like, two episodes later? and also crashes out on mckay several times about her going behind his back to report david to the police)

robby is a good person, obviously, but he does love a lil hypocrisy on the side. it's scrumptious!

[eroticwound]

PLEASE share the decent pitt fic you find. I just binge watched the show after seeing you post about it, and I went to ao3 with your words about the bleak state of pitt fic in mind and. MAN. You were NOT lying-- the fic landscape for this show is DESOLATE if you're not into X Reader or Langdon centric. I've been in a lot of fandoms with similarly barren pickings for my taste, but this is pretty up there. I'm really hoping that the fic landscape will get a little better or at least grow a little more diverse as a bit more time passes and more people get into the show, because I do NOT want to have to be the change I want to see and start writing myself. So. Please drop any pitt fic recs you have. I'm starving here.

fellow soldier in arms, i got you, here are two that i stumbled across that were good (robby and abbot focused, and some qpr stuff too):

They Way, Way Back by jumpfall

summary: Robby, post 1x13.

length: one shot, but it’s two in a series and the other two are good as well

Day or Night by thatsfarce

summary: 'There was no formal arrangement, nothing that could easily be defined as any recognizable brand of relationship. But Jack learned in the army that sometimes you needed someone to hold. To remind you that you’re human. That there’s someone who cares. Not that either of them would say anything mushy like that. It was basically a business transaction. Sleep in each other’s beds a couple nights a week and in exchange make it to the following week without going off the deep end. Business.'

...

Dr. Abbot starts the day on the edge of the roof, and ends it talking his friend off the same ledge. In the process, he reflects on their strange relationship.

length: 4/4

———

really with you in hoping some h/c/whump writers who prefer old men start writing pitt fic 🤞

[bridgetlynn]

For the drabble game, Frank and Dana and, because I like pain, number 69 :)

Okay, so thanks for the kick to get something written. #69 was Annoyance. And I'm not sure if this is what you were thinking about - but I think there's a general overall feel of that emotion throughout. I just kind of wrote and wound up in an interesting place. And Robby showed up to play as well. Hope that's okay. Five sentences went out the window around 1pm. It actually clocks in at 4290 words. It's still untitled. Hope you enjoy it - even if it went in a different direction then I necessarily expected it to. So here are Dana dealing with Frank and Robby and Annoyance.

The start of a shift cycle, following the two day break, always came around too soon in Dana Evans’ opinion. This one, following the roughest shift she’d had in her entire career when not counting a global pandemic, had seemed to come a little sooner than usual. It also happened to be, on top of everything, a Monday. 

And now, something had been blown up that couldn’t be put back into its box; and according to her computer, it might not have needed to have such a large blast radius.

Needless to say she’s had better mornings.

“Hi!”

Dana looked up from where she was reviewing the status of the patients currently inhabiting her emergency room, as she had been off for four days, and met the bluest eyes she had ever seen in person. It would be a lovely sight if those eyes weren’t currently in the skull of a puppy turned human. A puppy wearing black scrubs which meant it was going to probably be her problem eventually.

“Who are you and why are you bouncing in front of my desk an hour before you should be?”

“Frank Langdon. Intern,” he introduced himself and then to her horror brought a hand up and proceeded to drain a can of Red Bull at six o’clock in the morning. “Nice to meet you,” he added once he was done. 

Dana just groaned, loudly, and held a hand out as she saw him start looking around for, hopefully, a garbage, “Give me.” He frowned slightly but passed the can over. “Sit,” she added, pointing at the chair directly next to her. “If I let you wander you’ll get lost or stolen and I don’t have the time to make flyers today.”

“Yes ma’am?” he questioned more then replied and slowly sat in the chair while Dana got back to reviewing the computer charts.  

Two minutes later the puppy’s feet started tapping and shortly thereafter the chair she had put him on started swinging back and forth. She glanced to the side and watched as the swinging slowly became spinning and let him have four rotations before her own hand snapped out and grabbed the arm of the chair, “Bad puppy. Q-word time. Shhh.”

“Q-word? You mean quiet?”

“Fuck,” Dana groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Bad puppy. No more talking.”

“I thought you were quitting?” 

Dana rolled her eyes, and gritted her teeth, before looking up and replying, in a very serious tone, to Robby’s overly sarcastic question, “I’ve quit at least once a year since long before you strolled through those doors as a cocky fellow, barely out of his twenties, ready to blow through all the young and pretty nurses,” she said very pointedly.

“Well, that’s not true at all,” Robby replied, laughing slightly and missing the way Dana’s eyes hardened somewhat.

“No. It is,” she assured him. “Back then you were absolutely what my daughter would refer to as a Grade C Fuckboy with your floppy hair and ‘fix me’ energy.” She smirked, kind of meanly, at his widened eyes and added, “Oh! But don’t worry; by now you’ve reached at least an A. And you still need to be fixed. I’ve been told it’s your most attractive trait. Until those women actually date you.”

Robby opened his mouth and paused; then he examined Dana’s face and seemed to finally register that she wasn’t remotely amused at the moment, “Okay? What’s wrong? You’re pissed at me.”

She quietly gathered up the stack of papers she had just finished printing shortly before Robby arrived, the reason she had been here two hours before shift, and slid the folder across the counter to him. 

“Is this the thing?” he asked, dropping his voice to a nearly incomprehensible volume and Dana rolled her eyes again.

“Yes; that’s the pharmacy audit you had me run against Langdon’s hospital ID. I’d have done it quietly - like you originally asked - but I figured that was blown to hell after you started screaming about it for all and sundry to hear in the ambulance bay,” she responded at a normal level since as she pointed out - everyone knew even if they didn’t officially yet. “Stop fidgeting Francis James Langdon. God didn’t bless me with sons for reasons. Please stop doing things to remind of some of those reasons,” Dana stated without looking away from where she was double checking the inventory in Trauma Two’s cabinets and med-carts for various medications and supplies. 

As it was, normally, she wouldn’t even be doing the inventory in the trauma rooms; however, they had six fairly major trauma’s roll through one after the other in the course of an hour and a half, three for each room, and hadn’t had time before now to fully flip the rooms for much more than cleanliness. Which meant that her LPNs who had acted as Scribes for the traumas also hadn’t had time to get their notes into the computer; and therefore, Dana had no final inventory numbers of what was used and two very bare trauma rooms. It was definitely a case of doing for oneself when you need it done quickly and correctly - and she needed to get an order to Central Supply within the next hour. 

On any other day Dana wouldn’t mind him letting off a little energy while it was on the calmer side in the department; but she was on a time crunch and Frank had already dropped one box each of tubing, gauze and gloves in the last ten minutes and they were getting to the more breakable items shortly.  Easily distracted and over-caffeinated residents still in their puppy stages bouncing on her last shred of patience was not a great combination at four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon eight days into a July heatwave. She was half convinced they weren’t packed, beyond the traumas, because no one had the energy to leave their houses and get here unless they were ready to bleed out. Unfortunately, that could flip in a moment with no notice so, fidgeting wasn’t going to fly right now.

It was also her own fault for asking the hyperactive R2 to help her. The gangly boy was useful for high places and bulky crates. 

“I think I’m meant to be insulted by that,” Frank muttered while pushing the cart she pointed at over to the other side of the room. “But I’m awesome. So I won’t be.”

“Don’t think sweetie,” Dana replied. “Know. Know that you are to be insulted by that.”

“Oh come on Dana,” Frank grumbled, shuffling back over to her looking for all the world like Tanner and not for the first time Dana wondered if Abby hadn’t just cloned and shrunk her husband. “What’d I do now?”

“Knocked up your wife while she’s trying to finish her Master’s degree when you already have a two year old ,” Dana said decisively. “This is why I don’t have sons. My girl’s know not to let any nasty penis’ near them until after they finish their degrees. Boys would need to be tied up in their bedrooms through puberty. Too much work.”

She saw Frank smirk and shake his head before responding with a laugh, “No boy of yours would dare. Also, Kate’s married with a kid, Julia’s a lesbian and Rose is fourteen. I think you’re…okay?” She watched as he suddenly stopped moving the next cart and slowly turned to face the Charge Nurse before sputtering out a denial, “What did you say first? Because…no I didn’t!”

Dana blinked, because that was genuine confusion, “Oops?”

“What oops?!”

“I mean, Congratulations?”

Frank scowled and pulled his phone out of his pocket, glaring at the older woman, he snapped, “Excuse me. I have to go make a phone call right now.”

“I said oops!” Dana called after the resident. “Sorry puppy,” she mumbled and grabbed her tablet to keep marking down what needed to be restocked within the next hour. 

When Robby walked in a few minutes later she just raised an eyebrow at him, not in the mood to deal with the older version of the resident had just stalked away. He merely raised his hands up and, despite a clear warning on her face, asked, “Why did Langdon just ask me how to ask his wife why she told you something before him?”

Dana froze for a second and then burst out laughing, “He asked you for advice on talking to a wife?”

“I think I’m supposed to be insulted by that,” Robby mumbled and left the room while Dana continued to laugh. Robby scowled and Dana held up a hand before he could say anything else, loudly or otherwise, and continued speaking, “I do not appreciate it when orderlies whose names I do not even know start asking me if a senior resident is in jail for shooting up fentanyl or something. And when I ask what the hell they are talking about the response is, apparently, Dr. Robby was screaming about him being arrested for stealing medication and being high at work.”

Robby visibly winced at that and scrubbed a hand over his face, “I wasn’t thinking. He just got me so mad. I sent him home and he wouldn’t leave. And yes, I should have handled it a little better; I can admit that. He did approach me calmly and I am the one who blew it up into…loud.”

“Yes,” she snapped and then immediately lowered her voice. “Into “loud” is one way to put it. I mean, seriously, Robby? It was a bad day there is no doubt about it; but you’ve been spiraling for over a year and you crossed a line Friday. There is no excuse for Frank’s shit to be aired all over the fucking hospital,” she hissed at him. 

“And what about what he said to me?” 

Dana raised an eyebrow at that and then pointedly looked around the ER, where no one was even looking in their direction, before replying, “You’re Chief. Remember what I said to you when you asked what people were saying? No one sees anything or says anything where you are concerned. A fourth year resident in a competitive program who is more talented than most of the other residents put together? Hmm, I wonder how fast they want that star to fall?”

Robby nodded and fiddled with the stack of papers and rather than respond to what she had said he simply asked, “How bad is it?” She shrugged, “Well in thirty-three years I’ve seen worse. Hell, there was an anesthesiologist here in the early aughts, before your time here, who probably could have given Escobar a run for his money.”

“Dana,” Robby admonished. “Seriously.”

“I am,” she responded with a shrug. “What Langdon did isn’t good. But, when I tell you I’ve seen worse I mean it. And don’t tell me you dare tell me you can’t say the same.” Robby frowned deeper and tapped the folder with a pointed look to which she, again, rolled her eyes at the stubborn man. “Okay. Fine. I went back three days like you asked and the only somewhat questionable thing other than Louie’s meds was a, technical, pedes case on Wednesday.” “Pedes!?” Robby practically shrieked and Dana held up a hand, glaring at him. “Before you immediately jump to the worst case scenario, I remember that patient and the mother was so high strung that I jumped on as Frank’s nurse for it. You know he doesn’t deal well with mother’s that are clones of his own.” “Dana. Point please?” Robby implored, though he at least visibly paled at the comparison the nurse made. None of them liked thinking back on the one time they had met Louse Langdon in person.

“I’m getting there,” she muttered, resisting the urge to throttle him as she had been since early that morning. “Kid was almost seventeen, a wrestler and couldn’t stand up straight after practice. Back was totally frozen from the shoulder to hips. He admitted his partner screwed up some hold they were not supposed to be doing and he felt like he just got stuck. Scans showed no skeletal damage or tears, exam indicated that he probably just, essentially, pulled everything. Langdon called in a neuro consult and Janson came down.”

Robby winced again, “He should retire. Or be retired.”

“Yep,” Dana agreed, exhaling through her nose tiredly. “Janson prescribed valium and percocet. And Frank argued with him over here by the desk; pointing out, ironically, how bad of an idea it is to give a kid access to that kind of medication. Janson disagreed; but like you said - he’s old. So, Janson sent the script. Frank delivered the meds…and the mother winged them back at his face. The bottles landed halfway to the trauma rooms,” Dana explained, pointing behind her. “I don’t know what happened to them after that,” she admitted with a tight smile. “But Langdon changed the prescription to what he originally wanted.”

“Which was?” “Prescription strength ibuprofen and a week-long course of metaxalone. The mother was a bit more receptive to that after Frank explained that it was non-narcotic but that she should still disperse the meds to him herself at the correct times.”

“Skeletal muscle relaxer? Yea, I guess that’s a little better for that injury at that age,” Robby admitted quietly.

“Right,” she replied, nodding slightly. “So, then I went back to April, around when he got injured, and he only prescribed lorazepam ten times in that six month period and he never actually accessed the Pyxis himself for any of them before Friday. So take that how you will. Sometimes it is just a shitty vial or maybe he did something to that one. No way to really prove it.”

“OH Jesus what happened?!” Dana almost screamed and hurried across the room to her bouncing baby R3 who was currently walking through the ambulance bay doors alone, despite having the weekend off, and bleeding profusely; looking like someone had taken a bat to the side of his head.

“Baseball bat,” he mumbled, more than slightly dazed, as she steered him towards an exam room reminding herself that head wounds bleed a lot, and his white t-shirt being half red was probably not a big deal. 

“Robby!” Dana called, waving him down and pointing. She saw his eyes widen and he then proceeded to shove the tablet he was holding into the hands of Dr. Scott, one of the other A shift Attendings, who he had been speaking with before tearing across the department, tugging Heather Collin’s sleeve as he passed her to get her to follow him.

“What happened?!” he asked as both doctors came into the room while Jesse and Dana helped Frank up onto a gurney, ignoring his protests that he was fine. “You are not fine,” Robby calmly replied before Dana could do it herself. 

Which was probably a good thing as she was currently more likely to scream at him out of sheer terror then do anything calmly.  “Frank baby,” Dana said, trying to keep herself calm and stepping aside to allow Jesse to begin hooking the resident up to monitor’s at Robby’s quiet directions. “What happened? Did someone hit you with a baseball bat?” she asked carefully. “Do we need to get the police?”

Frank stared back at her, with thankfully even pupils even if he did look like he wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, and then burst out laughing. The fact that Jesse and Heather were both snickering a little and staring back at her and Robby while they did so was swiftly making her terror be replaced by aggravation. 

“It is not funny,” Robby snapped. “Look at him,” he added, and started listing off a barrage of lab tests, a full body CT, a chest x-ray and, after peering into Frank’s ear on the side of his head that was hit, an ENT consult, since his ear was bleeding. 

“It’s a little funny,” Collins disagreed. “No one hit him on purpose with a baseball bat. Don’t you remember he said his family was in town this weekend? Look how he’s dressed,” she added, pointing to Frank’s dirty clothes that Dana just realized consisted of baseball pants, a t-shirt and cleats. 

“Oh,” Dana mumbled and then froze again when Frank interjected something that she was sure she misunderstood in a spacey tone. “I’m sorry sweetheart what was that?” she asked.“Heather’s wrong. Henry absolutely hit me on purpose.”

“Henry?” Dana croaked out the question and felt somewhat justified in the pointed eyebrow she shot at Heather who looked horrified herself now.

“My older brother,” Frank explained, shrugging and then wincing. “Ow.”

“What ow?” Robby asked, looking exhausted. 

“Shoulder.”

“Did he hit you there too?” Jesse asked, since all four of them were a little flummoxed by the situation they were in; as were the various people who had been popping their heads into the exam room for the last ten minutes. “No, I wrenched it” Frank disagreed and then turned a pout in Dana’s direction. “I left my fidget.”

“Frank,” Robby redirected the younger doctor’s attention. “How’d you also wrench your shoulder?”

“Ginny,” he replied, still sounding distracted. “Heather? Can I have your clicky pen please?” he asked, pointing at the pen hanging on her shirt collar. “I won’t click it. Much.”

An hour later Dana was praying for her strength and her blood pressure. 

“Mrs. Langdon, your son has a grade two concussion because your other son hit him in the head with a baseball bat,” she explained slowly, glaring at the woman and not bothering to hide it. 

“Oh dear, honestly though boys will be boys. Henry didn’t do it on purpose. Frank caught out Henry’s home run. He wasn’t actually going to hit him; but Frank stepped the wrong way. He stepped into the swing instead of away from it. Henry would never want to hurt his baby brother. Henry’s my good boy. Always has been,” Louise Langdon explained, as though that made everything better. “Besides, Frank’s had that type of concussion before and he was fine. The last time it was his fault too. He was always getting hurt as a child. He just never pays attention to things; even now as an adult and it’s still happening. Are you sure I really can’t see him yet? Frankie can not make decisions about things like this. He’s very distractible,” the older woman was almost rambling at Dana by the end of her explanation, sounding like she was trying to justify it all in her own mind as much as to Dana. 

“Right,” Dana muttered. “And his shoulder? He said that Ginny wrenched it?” she asked, as that was the one thing that they couldn’t figure out; none of it made sense but at least most of it had a clear cause and effect.

“Oh, well, yes, Ginny. Henry’s wife. She might have had a few too many cocktails last night; it was a family bar-be-que,” she began explaining with a laugh and a shrug. “Well, she almost dropped Ellie.” Dana blanched and leaned back on the desk behind her as this woman casually explained that her son’s wife had almost dropped her five month old granddaughter because she was drunk. “Frank lunged, but since we were standing at the top of the back porch stairs he had to grab the railing to keep from falling when he overreacted.”

“Right,” Dana mumbled. “Well thanks for letting us know so we can treat him properly,” she added and hurried away before she got fired for murder. Suddenly everything Abby had ever said to Dana about never seeing her in-laws despite them living a half hour away and Frank avoiding all mention of his parents except in the most serious circumstances made a lot more sense. “Oh,” Robby mumbled and began quietly flipping through the papers in the folder, skimming through the information for himself. “These are Hagan’s records too?” he asked in surprise.

Dana nodded as she slipped on the cardigan she had worn that morning, “Sure are. He was prescribing the same dose of medication to Frank from when he got hurt up until last week. Right about the time he went on vacation. Or, more accurately, according to Lisa Jacobs, the charge nurse for the day shift on Five, otherwise known as the ortho floor, he has been encouraged to retire quietly due to inconsistencies in his prescribing. So yes, those are Hagan’s records. I thought they might help when you pull your head out of your ass and make sure he can keep his job.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Robby admitted. “I told him what needs to be done and he’s not answering his phone now.” “Yea, well I took care of that for you too,” she responded. “His cell phone is currently off and in the bottom of Abby’s purse. As of an hour ago Frank himself has been checked in across town at Presby to detox for the next week to ten days. They might pull some strings to keep him there; but Abby didn’t like that because that would mean keeping him in the psych ward since they don’t have an inpatient facility for just rehab.”

“So what you’re saying is I have a week to figure out where to send him that is covered by insurance?”

“I’m saying you have a week to pull a few favors out of your ass because insurance will stick that boy in a hell hole that’ll be overcrowded and understaffed and he’ll twiddle his thumbs for a month and bullshit his way past whatever first year psych resident he gets assigned to. This isn’t the 80s anymore Robby. Insurance doesn’t actually want people to get clean. They make less money that way.”

“I hear you,” he agreed and then noticed something. “Why are you wearing jeans?”

“Cause for the next two weeks I am on medical leave,” she explained, gesturing at her own face. “I mean, I’m fine. But, hey, free extra vacation days? I’ll take ‘em. Better than pizza. And I’m serious Robby. Figure out something. Because even if you’re pissed at him as your friend, you’re a damned doctor and Hagan fucked a lot of people up it looks like. I know he’s an adult; but there is a reason I mentioned the Grade C Fuckboy.” “Oh?”

“Yea; you made Frank Langdon look like the most responsible boring straight laced by the book rule following residents to ever walk through those doors. And you were two years older then than he is now. See you in two weeks.”

“Abby shouldn’t have called you. Not after last night,” Frank whispered as Dana took a seat next to him on the couch in the basement den of the Langdon’s small house three in the morning mere hours after they got off the worst shift of his career. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Dana disagreed and squeezed his clammy hand. “Here’s what is going to happen,” she began, taking on her best no bullshit tone. “You are going to take this pill,” Dana explained, slipping a librium into Frank’s hand and gestured at the bottle of water sitting on the table in front of him. “Abby has six more upstairs that she will give you, in halves if necessary, you will use these pills to keep from going into DTs.”

Frank shifted on the couch looking uncomfortable and avoiding her eyes so she just squeezed his hand tighter and continued explaining the plan she had started coming up with the moment he had left the break room that night, “No later than Tuesday you will get a call to go to Presby. My sister-in-law is a Nurse Manager in behavioral health over there and she said she can get you in as soon as a bed opens up in their detox program. She said the absolute latest should be Tuesday morning.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” he replied softly, finally looking at her with tear filled eyes. Dana simply shook her head and wiped away the one tear that fell. “Sure I did,” she disagreed. “I’ve told you for years; I just don’t have time to put up flyers. Also, you’re finally housebroken,” she joked and then frowned when he had no reaction other then to still look like he was minutes away from a total breakdown. “Listen to me Frank, for as much as I’m very angry with you right now? I still love you and I will not lose you to this.” Dana leaned back into the couch and stretched a kink out of her neck before continuing, “Also you owe your wife a vacation, Robby an apology and that overly cocky brat who caught you at least one month’s rent coverage.”

“Dana,” Frank groaned in protest and she smirked even as she reached over and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll let you send it anonymously because lord if she doesn’t make Intern-you look cool, calm and collected. It’s got to be karma of some sort. She’s the universe’s gift to you for the headache inducer you were to every senior resident you had.”

“And what is she to you?” Frank joked back, even as he started looking like he was falling asleep, where he was sitting, from her repeatedly running her hand through his hair. 

“A reminder that boys aren’t so bad afterall,” Dana replied a few minutes later after he had finally fallen asleep. “See you in two weeks kid.”

[drjackrabbit]

okay we need more robby and santos interaction next season for real

[captainscurvysvitaminc]

(still same anon lol)

Garcia being secretly protective of frank and threatens to kill John if he breathes near frank the wrong way.

Same vein of people being protective of frank, some one recognizes frank from NA and yells at him in front of literally everyone, patients and staff alike, and frank for the first time in his life silent with his head drooping down and hair hanging in his face and hands clasped in front of him and they see him bring a crooked finger to his face and release he's crying, and someone videos for security reasons but also sends it to John so he knows what happened bc lord knows frank won't tell him, and than John hauling ass to the er when frank won't answer his calls to see if he's okay/ needs to go home (they also work together to find a new NA so frank doesn't have to see that person ago).

One of my favorite things about the NA community is that they wouldn't even have to find Frank a new NA meeting, because that guy would be banned from that meeting (and probably a lot of surrounding meetings) so fucking fast when the organizers found out. They don't fuck with that shit.

"What we see here, what we say here, what we hear here STAYS HERE" is not just a sentence to them. You keep that promise or you get the hell out. And even if Frank won't tell someone, you better believe John will. Damn, Robby too. One of them will tell Frank's sponsor if Frank doesn't and that asshole is gone.

Robby would get between that patient and Frank in a heartbeat. Ahmad would not hesitate. Trinity would throw hands. And you're right about Garcia. When she finds out (Trinity), if she isn't there to see it first-hand, she is PISSED. Frank is her ER Ken to bully, no one else's.

I can't decide if Garcia calls John or Robby does. Frank tells them not to. He tells them that John needs his sleep. He's fine. Shen's there twenty minutes later because Frank's friends are traitors (affectionate).

[cbartonscoffee]

the pitt pride icons (1)

[greatvaluegirlfriend]

something about seeing the man you've spent so much time seeking out at every turn collapse more because of your actions on a day he's taken off for years due to his trauma is okay because his attention is on you again and that collapse is from you so he cares so much and you wear his breakdown like a wedding ring

forcing yourself into his periphery. never taking your eyes off of him. working when he can’t turn you away, so you can be in his orbit again. caring about his stepson. “your pain is okay because it means you’re thinking about me. so much that it almost kills you.”

anon your mind

[vernyhore]

I'm anxious about today's episode. I want Frank and Robby to talk it out and for things to be fixed between them, but I don't know if it's at all possible. Robby is a mess. He needs someone to help him, not to be the one helping the other person. But then, he won't ever admit that he needs help and especially help from Frank. And Frank, I don't know where he is emotionally and mentally. Does he have it in him to be there for Robby? And what about himself? It's not going to be okay, is it? I wanted to ask for some positive vibes.. only made it more pessimistic instead.. Sorry?

Not gonna lie, I’m pretty stressed about tomorrow’s episode as well. And about next week’s, too. I don’t know how Robby’s supposed to pick himself up after this. He’ll try, of course - he’ll put on the act, keep it together for an hour or two - but even that won’t last. It never does. I'm afraid that very soon, something even worse is going to happen, and the weight of it all is going to catch up to him in a way that'll make his breakdown look like a walk in the park.

And Frank? As much as I hate to say it, he’s probably the last person Robby wants help from right now. The stolen drugs are a big part of that, sure, but it runs deeper. They aren’t really friends - not in the way Frank wants them to be. Frank treats Robby like a friend, but it’s not mutual. Robby made that clear himself: “I don’t have a best friend.” and drawing a hard line between a "best friend" and a "best resident". There’s a deliberate distance he keeps, not just from Frank but from most people in the ED. He’s the one who helps, always the one holding others up, but when it comes to accepting help? That’s not in his nature. He doesn’t let people in.

As for Frank...he’s absolutely in his I’ll show you I can still do this mode. We haven’t seen what he was up to during the hour and a half he was off-screen, aside from his frantic attempts to reach Robby. To explain? To apologize? Maybe both. I can picture him sitting in the parking lot, gripping the wheel, cycling through a thousand different ways to fix things. Or maybe he was driving in circles, playing out scenarios in his head, trying to find a way to make things okay again. And for a brief moment, it seemed like he had - he was back in the ED, doing what he does best. But Robby barely spoke to him when he tried to engage, more - he could hardly bring himself to look in Frank's direction. And that? That's what made Frank realize that there's no fixing this. No easy way to go back to what they had. There might be room to rebuild, eventually, maybe, but it'll never be the same.

And once the adrenaline wears off? I have no idea what will happen. I believe (or hope) that s1 will end on a somewhat positive, if bittersweet note, for all of them.

[double-vandammage]

Any prompts? Suggestions? Headcannons? to help me with writing? I’ve got a robby x abbot WIP right now *cough* car make out *cough*, but would love some asks! Particularly for them or Robby x Langdon. I’m even open to some of the wlw Pitt ships. <3 It will get me out of my comfort zone.