#langinavitch

[captainscurvysvitaminc]

Something about Robby not being able to forgive Frank yet for what happened, but Frank comes back and he’s done the work to change. Frank went to rehab and got the help he needed, but Robby’s still mired in the trauma and stress that has dragged him into this shitty mental state. His fallen resident is doing the work, in large part because he wants to be the man Robby thought he was, thinks he could be. Robby still can’t bring himself to do that work. Maybe he can’t figure out how.

And he still can’t forgive Frank.

He tried to leave before Frank came back because he doesn’t want Frank to see he’s still exactly the man who walked away in that ambulance bay.

[captainscurvysvitaminc]

This new info of Langdon coming back earlier than he’s supposed to and catching Robby before he leaves on the three month sabbatical he scheduled specifically to avoid Frank is giving so many Do I Wanna Know vibes

[captainscurvysvitaminc]

Several Sentences Sunday

this thing I'm writing instead of working on LDRS ch.4

thanks @a-way-we-go for continuing to reinforce the RobbyFrankAbbot bug in my brain

It was Jack that Frank was obeying when he fumbled the door open, but it was Robby who stepped past Jack to fit one palm over Frank's chest and the other between his shoulder blades. It was Robby who started counting and squeezing in time. It was Robby who Frank wanted to flee from even as he leaned closer.  Jack busied himself getting a glass of water from the kitchen while Robby dragged Frank back from hyperventilation. It was their first time seeing Frank's new apartment, but Robby lead Frank back to sit on his shitty Ikea couch like he helped Frank build it all those weeks ago. Seven weeks ago. When Frank and Abby decided this was permanent.  That their babies living in two different houses was permanent. That going to bed in two separate beds was permanent. That no longer having coffee together in the morning was permanent. That Frank no longer getting flowers every week for their dining table was permanent. That no longer leaving sticky notes for each other was permanent.  And he didn't blame Abby. Could never dream of blaming or hating Abby or turning this divorce into some tv spectacle. But it was all so permanent. It became permanent all at once even though their decision evolved over months and months. Their decision wasn't made lightly. But the permanence felt as sudden as a sledgehammer.  If they knew where he lived and where he kept his glasses and where the couch was so quickly, could they see all the places he kept his stashes? Would they know five minutes in the exact number of pills Frank had on him?  Would they have an exact replica of the calorie count burned into Frank's brain in theirs? How long until they opened Frank's refrigerator? His cabinets? Maybe Jack already had when he went searching for glasses.  Robby was still counting. Murmuring near Frank's ear. Jack was sitting on his coffee table with the glass of water at the ready. Frank couldn't hold it until his hands stopped shaking.