Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first goal of any foster placement is always reunification.

Frank had been hearing that for the last decade.

He was getting pretty sick of it.

Frank

They were in the back seat of Gloria’s car, backpacks on their laps and the entirety of their worldly possessions crammed into one plastic tote in the trunk. The last time they had moved to a new home, Frank had held Trinity’s hand to reassure her. This time, she was shut off from the world, hands clasped tightly in her lap. He still offered, his hand sitting casually on the middle console between them, but she was resolutely staring out the window as Gloria rambled on. “I think this will be great for you two. They’re both doctors. I’ve known them for a long time and they’re good people. And you’ll be able to stay in the same school, and keep your tutoring job.”

Frank hummed noncommittally.

“And Trinity, you won’t have any of the issues that you had with the Walkers or the Cunninghams. This couple…Jack and Michael. They’re, well, obviously, they’re gay.” Frank looked over and saw Trinity’s eyebrows shoot up. Gay foster parents. That was…new.

Their last foster parents, the Walkers, had seemed nice enough at first, but they dragged Frank and Trinity to church every Sunday, and Trin had gotten herself added to the church prayer list when the Walkers found a flyer for her middle school’s GSA tucked inside a textbook. The truth had come out, and last night, when the Walkers had announced that they had arranged for personal one-on-one counseling with their priest, Trinity had run away.

Frank had been startled awake around 3 AM (from a nightmare, but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that) and found his sister’s bed empty. He had woken up the Walkers and bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited helplessly for them to get out of bed, get dressed, and get in the car. They drove around the streets, checked the school, called the local hospital…and didn’t find her anywhere.

Sometimes Frank wondered if his twelve-year-old half-sister did things like this to punish him. He was worried sick, and furious that no one was doing anything to find her. They hadn’t even been looking for half an hour when the Walkers gave up. They gave up. “She’ll come back in the morning when she’s hungry,” Mrs. Walker said on her way back to bed. “Don’t worry too much about her, sweetie, try to get some sleep.”

As much as they hated the idea of Queer Trinity, they loved Golden Boy Frank, their sweetie, their illustrious foster child that got straight A’s and was so polite and respectful. He didn’t misbehave often, because he saved it for the moments when it was needed. Like this one.

Thirty minutes later, Frank had snuck Mrs. Walker’s cell phone off her bedside table and called 9-1-1, and then Gloria, starting a full-scale task force to find the one person he would burn the world down for. By the time Gloria arrived, the Walkers had been roused from bed by the cops, they were staring daggers at Frank, and he knew that this placement was toast. Gloria wasn’t the coziest, friendliest social worker Frank had ever been assigned, but she was far from the worst. She did her job, and nothing more, and he respected that. “Frank,” she greeted him curtly. “What happened?”

He told her the story, Gloria had listened, and by the time the sun was coming up, the police had found Trinity in a park an hour away and brought her home unharmed. Gloria had stayed while he and Trinity packed up their things, and then…well, then it was now, in the car, on the way to the emergency placement with the gay foster dads.

The house they stopped at was nice, but not overly fancy, and he could see a pride flag flying on the front porch. Frank and Trinity hoisted their backpacks onto their shoulders and climbed out, and Gloria grabbed the scuffed plastic bin from the trunk, full of their clothes and books and memories. Frank would have taken it from her, except that his back was aching today, tweaked from not sleeping and from squishing his tall frame into the backseat of her tiny car. Aching was maybe an understatement. Twinging. Burning. Vibrating like a guitar string. He distracted himself by looking at his little sister, lightly bumping his knee into her to get her to look back at him. She quirked an eyebrow, and he smiled reassuringly.

The door swung open, two men greeting them with wide smiles. “Hey Gloria, good to see you again. Let me take that, I’ll just bring it right inside. And you two must be Frank and Trinity. I’m Michael, but everyone calls me Robby. It’s really nice to meet you.” He was a friendly one, this Robby. Chipper. “And this is my husband, Jack. Come in, come in! Are you guys hungry? Thirsty? Can I get anyone some water?”

They were shepherded onto the couch in the living room. “Sounds like you two had a busy morning,” Jack said, sinking into an armchair across from them. “We’re happy you’re here.”

Gloria eyed Frank, and he knew what came next. “Uh, hi. I’m Frank, I’m sixteen. I’m a junior. Um, I have a job tutoring after school sometimes.” He nudged his sister.

“I’m Trinity, I’m twelve. 7^th grade.”

Well, that was better than nothing. Frank sighed. “We’re half-siblings. Our mom’s in prison. She flipped her car going 90 on the turnpike because she was coked out of her mind. But she’s fine.” People always asked.

He saw Robby and Jack glance at each other, and Gloria tensed. “Frank was in the car,” she added. Trinity pressed closer to him. “And has some lingering health problems that he continues to see doctors for.”

Robby nodded. “That’s not a problem, Frank. I don’t know if Gloria told you, but Jack and I are doctors over at PTMC. We’re pretty used to hospitals and doctors’ visits.”

These conversations were always awkward, a mix of side-stepping some topics and addressing others with the sensitivity of a bulldozer. Gloria continued. “And Trinity has some issues with PTSD and is in weekly therapy sessions, and takes an anti-anxiety medication.”

“You two have been through the wringer,” Jack said gruffly. Frank didn’t know how to respond.

They covered all the boring stuff—visitation with their mom, upcoming appointments, school schedules—and Frank was trying to stay present, but was failing miserably. His eyes kept flicking around the room, trying to discern what kind of home this would be. They weren’t obsessively neat people, there were shoes piled at the door and a sweatshirt almost falling off the back of the couch, but it was tidy enough. There was one scraggly potted plant in the corner, hopefully not a sign of their nurturing tendencies. But then he spotted crutches by the door and felt his stomach clench. Were those for him? Did Gloria tell them he was a cripple that couldn’t walk a year ago?

Jack must have noticed Frank’s gaze, because he cleared his throat. “Those are for me, kid. I used to be 6’9” but now I’m a foot shorter.” He pulled his pant leg up and Frank’s cheeks blazed in embarrassment when he saw the prosthesis.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, or…”

“Don’t sweat it. Happens a lot.”

The adults all stood up, moving towards the door. Gloria paused. “Frank and Trinity, do you two have any questions for me before I go?” They shook their heads. “Then I’m only a phone call away. I’ll check in tomorrow to see how things are going.”

Being left with strangers was, on the whole, not a great feeling, even though Jack and Robby seemed nice enough. “You two feel up for a little tour?” Robby asked.

“Sure.”

Jack moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll stay down here and make some lunch. Any food allergies we should know about?”

“Avocado,” Trinity piped up. “Frank breaks out in hives.”

“I do,” he confirmed.

“You got an EpiPen?”

“It’s only hives.”

Jack looked unconvinced. “We can talk about that later. We have EpiPens in our first aid kit if something does happen.”

“First aid kit!” Robby repeated enthusiastically, pointing to a kitchen cabinet. “Here! Pantry, here! Totally open to you two; eat whatever you want whenever you want. Feel free to take some snacks to your bedroom, just toss things in the kitchen garbage down here so we don’t get bugs.”

Robby led them through the rest of the downstairs, even let them peek in the primary bedroom, before he took them upstairs. “Do you guys prefer to share a bedroom or have separate rooms?”

“Share,” Trinity said.

“Separate,” Frank said at the same time. He glanced down at his sister, who was looking up at him in disbelief. “Shared,” he amended.

Robby nodded. “The room at the end of the hall has bunk beds. This one is an option if you decide the shared room thing isn’t working, and this door is our son’s room. John just started college last month. Here, this is him.” Robby pointed to a picture on the wall of a young Asian man in graduation robes.

“Was he a foster kid too?” Frank asked.

“He was; we adopted him about six years ago. He’ll still be home for school breaks and holidays, of course, but he lives at school—Michigan. Pre-med.” And damn, if Robby didn’t sound exactly like the proud father Frank sometimes dreamed of at night. “Okay, this will be your room. That door is the closet, and this door is your own bathroom. There’s period products under the sink, just let us know if you need more or if we don’t have what you like, or if you have any questions.” Trinity blushed furiously. Frank thanked his lucky stars he wasn’t a girl.  “There’s some other comforters and throw pillows in the closet, so you can kind of make this room your own. Feel free to hang up posters or pictures or whatever.”

Trinity had stepped hesitantly towards a dresser on the other side of the room. “Are those…?”

“Cell phones. You guys are old enough to have your own, especially since you’ll be walking to school and spending some time home alone. We have some guidelines for using them responsibly, and there are some parental content controls set up, but as long as there’s no problems, they’re yours to use as you please.”

“Holy shit,” Trinity whispered, running her fingers over the new phone. Frank elbowed her. “I mean, uh…holy…wow. This is crazy.” He elbowed her again. “Thank you!” She finally said.

“Thank you,” Frank echoed. “This is so cool.”

“I mean, geez, five-year-olds have cell phones these days,” Robby said nonchalantly. “Every other kid we see in the ER is glued to a tablet or something. Anyways, Jack and I’s numbers are in there, and Gloria’s. Just text us so we know who gets which number.”

The phone was heavy in his hand. It felt…long-term. They wouldn’t give the kids cell phones if they were only going to be here for a few days, right? But Frank didn’t want to ask…didn’t really want to know, if it was going to be taken away in a few days.

Robby looked at the two quiet kids. “Uh, let me run downstairs and get your things.”

The second he left, Trinity turned to Frank with wide eyes. “Holy shit,” she said again, holding the phone like it was a bar of gold.

“You do not drop this,” he said immediately. “You do not lose it. You do not break it. You don’t let anyone borrow it, or do anything stupid with it. These are enormously expensive.”

“I’m not an idiot, dickwad.” She fell backwards into a bean bag chair in the corner.

Frank stared at the phone in his own hands, sleek and black. He texted the three contacts, Frank. Instantly, Robby hearted it. The Trinity message came through, hearted too, and Frank saved the number. He dug in his backpack for a post-it note of another number, and saved it as Abby <3.

“You want top bunk?” Frank offered casually.

Trin snorted. “Yeah, like you could even get up there.”

Frank laughed for Trinity’s sake, but didn’t like how much the comment stung. His back was throbbing at this point, a spot a couple inches left of his spine that always caused trouble. Robby lugged their beat-up plastic tote into the room and set it near the closet. “Alright, Jack has the sandwich bar all set up, so if you guys are hungry you can come downstairs and eat. Otherwise, we’ll give you some time to settle in, and sandwich ingredients are all in the fridge if you get hungry. We don’t have any plans for the rest of the day. Again, nowhere is off-limits, you can hang out wherever you want. Anything you need before I go?”

“Frank is supposed to get an award at school tonight,” Trinity announced.

Frank groaned. “It’s just for the honor roll, nothing special. Just a stupid ceremony, I was going to skip it anyways.”

“He’s getting a community service award too.”

Trinity, geez. “Yeah, for being a foster kid that is a decent person. Doing the bare minimum.”

“Do you want to go?” Robby was staring at him like he was trying to figure something out.

Trinity rolled her eyes. “He’s been talking about it all week.”

“I have not.”

“The last fosters usually took us out to dinner afterwards,” She explained, and okay, maybe Frank had been talking about going out to dinner all week.

“Jack and I would love to attend and take you two out for dinner afterwards,” Robby said firmly. “If that’s what you want.”

Trin was looking hopefully at Frank, who gave in. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Great. Start thinking of where you want to go.”

Frank’s heart started beating faster as Robby turned to leave. “Uh,” he stuttered. “Do you have like…ice? And a Ziploc bag? For my back.”

Robby didn’t balk. He must have been some kind of professional foster parent, or else he’s seen some shit. “We have some reusable ice packs. Do you need any painkillers?”

“No, I have some Tylenol in my backpack.”

“Do you have a heating pad?”

“Ice is better.”

“Okay, I can grab you the ice pack. Eventually, I’d like to talk more about what happened and what symptoms you’re still having to see if we can help, does that sound okay?”

Frank was…touched? Embarrassed? “Just not today,” he said finally.

“Of course. Trinity, the same goes for you. We’d just like to understand what’s going on with you two so we can support you and advocate for you.” Trinity nodded slowly, and Robby smiled comfortingly. “I’ll be right back with that ice pack.”

Trinity sat down on the bed next to Frank, trying not to jostle him. “Your back hurts?”

“Well, someone decided to run away and I didn’t get a good night’s sleep.” It came out sharper than he intended, and his sister flinched. “Sorry Trin, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…could have done without the 3 AM panic.”

“I thought you wouldn’t notice until you woke up.”

“Why’d you run? Why didn’t you…I don’t know, tell me? So I could come?”

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” she murmured. “But running is the only way I could think of to get Gloria involved. The Walkers weren’t about to let us call her.”

“I had a plan. Abby’s got Gloria’s number saved in her phone, so I was going to call her as soon as I got to school today.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There was a gentle knock on the door frame as Jack stepped in. “Brought that ice pack. This one’s my favorite for when the stump’s actin’ up, but you need a towel between that and your skin so it doesn’t get too cold. It’ll stay colder longer than you need it, so set a timer on that fancy phone or somethin’ for like 15 minutes, otherwise you’re riskin’ skin damage.” He wrapped the ice pack in the towel and handed it to Frank, pausing for a second to watch him gingerly lie down. “You want me to make you a sandwich and bring it up?”

“Not really hungry.”

“I get that. Sometimes when it hurts a lot, you just lose your appetite.”

“Yeah.” Frank hadn’t met anyone else that understood his pain as immediately as Jack did.  “Uh…can I ask…your leg…it hurts sometimes?”

Jack looked at him with a piercing gaze that felt cold and distant at first, but then relaxed. “Yes.” It wasn’t much of an answer, but it wasn’t a lie. Jack looked at Trinity. “How about you, kid? You want room service? Sandwich a la Jack?”

Frank could swear he saw her crack a smile, but she smothered it quickly. “Maybe later.”

“I’ll leave the fixins’ out for a little while.”

Trinity watched Jack leave, then turned back to her new phone, still enchanted by it. “What do you think happened to him?”

“I don’t know, but don’t ask, that’s rude.” The ice pack was working its magic already, soothing some of the burning nerve pain, but he was itching for a Tylenol…or at least, one of the pills he kept in the Tylenol bottle in his backpack. If it wasn’t exactly Tylenol…well, no one needed to know that but him. He fished around in his backpack and wrapped his fingers around the small bottle. “Why don’t you start unpacking. See if you can find my black pants, for the thing tonight.”

He waited until she ducked into the bathroom to fish a pill out of the Tylenol container and wash it down with a swig from his water bottle. He briefly closed his eyes as he felt his back muscles relax, almost reflexively, then felt a wad of fabric hit his face. “Your jeans, idiot.”

“Thanks, creep. Hey, you doing okay?”

“Better than you.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “You should get a sandwich, you haven’t eaten all day.”

Her eyes darted nervously to the stairs. “Maybe when you’re done icing your back. I can wait.” Trinity was a tough kid, and had gone through a lot, but it made her moments of vulnerability even more obvious.

“Give me ten minutes,” he replied softly. Trinity wandered around the room, examining everything as she went. It was pretty sparse, but not in a bad way, just in a needs-some-personality way. She moved their plastic bin in front of the only vent in the room and started pulling out her clothes to put them in the dresser. “Just leave some space for the air to escape,” Frank said drowsily, letting his eyes flutter shut. He was tired as shit…Oxycodone always took it out of him.

Chapter Text

Robby

The kids had chosen Olive Garden for dinner. Robby couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten Olive Garden, unless you counted the few times it had shown up in catering pans in the Pitt. But they seemed excited about it.

The award ceremony took hours, and by the end of it Frank looked more annoyed than proud. Trinity had been on her phone the whole time, fingers flying across the screen, and she smiled widely each time she finished a level of whatever game she was playing. All in all, things were going well.

It had been a surprise for Jack and Robby to get that six AM call from Gloria about an emergency foster placement, to say the least. They had been out of the foster system ever since they formally adopted John, wanting to keep things stable for him, and they had only mentioned to Gloria that they were considering opening their home to fosters again a few days ago. But she knew what to say to convince them—chronic pain, trauma, queer, vulnerable. There was no way they could turn these kids down.

Once Jack got home from his shift, they started a desperate race to get everything ready before the kids arrived. Grocery shopping, cleaning, buying tampons for the first time in either of their lives…it was all a rush, and they finished just about half an hour before Frank and Trinity showed up. Even though they had technically been foster parents for 8 years now, they had still only ever had one foster kid, and they had adopted him. This was all new.

The waiter led them to a booth, and they sat facing each other—kids on one side, adults on the other. Robby and Jack picked up their menus, leafing through them, but Robby noticed that Frank and Trinity didn’t touch theirs. “You guys know what you’re getting?”

Frank opened a menu, glancing at it perfunctorily. “We always get the unlimited thing. Soup, salad, breadsticks and all that.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz Frank can eat like eight bowls of soup and the Walkers got tired of paying for it,” Trinity added.

Robby saw Frank’s face twist, and his hand clamped down on Trinity’s arm like he was warning her. “We like it,” he said tensely. “The soup here is really good.”

Jack glanced over the brims of his reading glasses at the kids. “You guys can get whatever you’d like.”

Robby pasted a smile on, “Yup, don’t even look at the prices. We’re celebrating tonight!” The look Jack gave him communicated that he might have overdone it with the enthusiasm, so he tried to dial it back. “I was going to get the lasagna, but now I’m thinking about the shrimp scampi.” Trinity slowly picked up her menu and started looking through it, throwing worried glances between her brother and Robby as she read. It was a relief when the waiter came back to take their order. “You know what, I will have the lasagna,” Robby said.

Jack paused, “Uh, chicken parm.”

They looked at Frank and Trinity. “We’ll do the soup, salad, and breadsticks,” Frank said quietly.

Trinity looked upset, and caught Robby’s eye. He nodded encouragingly. “Can I get the fettucine alfredo instead?” she asked, looking down at the table. The waiter nodded and took the menus.

Immediately, Frank nudged Trinity out of the booth, a wrinkle in his forehead. “We’re going to wash our hands,” he announced curtly, pushing her in front of him.

Robby leaned back, rubbing his forehead. “You think we need to go rescue her?”

“Nah. But maybe we should order dessert for the table, to avoid…whatever this was.”

“You know I can’t pass up tiramisu.”

Robby’s leg was jiggling, and Jack pressed down on it to slow the shaking, giving him a curious look. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Robby responded lightly, sending a loaded look his husband’s way. Not here, not now. Jack shrugged, and they sipped on their drinks until the kids got back. Trinity looked subdued, keeping her eyes on the ground, and Frank just looked tired.

Robby tried to ignore the concern that was eating at him, but Jack saw him stewing and saved him, like he always did. “Do you guys like baseball?”

Frank perked up. “Yeah! My dad used to take me to Pirates games all the time when I was little. I still have an autographed ball.”

Robby felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. He had been trying to suppress his emotions all day, but some of his best memories of Montgomery Adamson had been made at Three Rivers Stadium, watching the Pirates play with a hot dog in one hand and a scorebook in the other. Monty had been Robby’s foster dad from the time he was eleven, after a childhood being swapped between family members when his mother couldn’t care for him. Monty became the father Robby never had, and was the reason that he and Jack opened their home to foster kids.

Monty had died four years ago to the day, and that’s why Robby wasn’t okay.

Jack’s hand was still on his leg, squeezing reassuringly, and Robby grasped it like a lifeline while his husband talked. “The hospital we work at got tickets to the Pirates game tomorrow night for a staff and family night out. Are you two interested?”

Frank’s eyes grew round. “Yes! I haven’t been in…forever. And they’re playing the Phillies, right?” It was the most enthusiasm he had shown about anything so far.

“Trinity?”

“Sounds good,” she was looking sideways at her brother, seemingly just as surprised at the outburst as Robby.

“I know there’s some other kids coming,” Jack continued. “Shamsi’s bringing her daughter, right?”

“Uh, right,” Robby choked.

He was saved by the arrival of their dinner, but the mood cooled again the second the plates hit the table. They ate quietly, Robby trying not to glance at the kids in between bites. Frank was slowly eating his bowl of soup, probably trying to prove he wasn’t a glutton, and Trinity was going even slower, pushing her noodles around without taking a bite. “We can take the leftovers home for later,” Robby said finally, his voice kind.

She startled. “Sorry, I, uh, was just waiting for it to cool down. It’s probably good now.” She stared at Frank for a moment, then brought a forkful of noodles to her mouth, chewing slowly.

She took a few more tiny bites, and then paused, her posture tense. It looked like she was gagging, or choking, maybe, and her eyes were getting wet as she looked up at Frank again. He noticed immediately. “Swallow it,” he said quietly. Trinity shook her head, and he handed her a napkin. “Okay, spit.” He swept her hair off her neck as Trinity gagged into the napkin. “Bathroom,” he muttered. She was breathing shallowly, hand to her mouth as she slid out of the booth.

“What’s wrong?” Robby asked insistently, shooting to his feet. He followed a silent Frank, glancing back worriedly at Jack, who was half out of his seat as well.

They barged into the women’s room after Trinity, and heard her vomiting in one of the stalls. Frank held his hand up, stopping Robby in the doorway. “Trin?” he said gently, easing open the stall door. “Is it the…uh…the usual thing?”

Robby heard the toilet flush, and a pale Trinity emerged. There was a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead, and she held her hair away from her neck like Frank had done. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately, seeing Robby. “It’s not the food, that was really good, I just…it just happens sometimes.”

“When she gets anxious.” Frank added, watching his little sister closely.

“It just…feels like my throat is closing, and then I gag, and the food just gets—” she turned green again, and ran back into the stall.

Robby winced as the sound of vomiting echoed off the metal dividers. “Trinity, can I get you anything? Some water?”

Frank entered the stall behind his sister, still putting himself in between her and Robby. “We can meet you back at the table,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

But Robby wasn’t going to leave, not when Trinity was struggling. “Try tensing your muscles—your legs, or hands—clench them, then relax. Focus on that.” The vomiting stopped, and Robby could hear her small, shuddering breaths. “Or your arms, press them really hard against your sides, then relax. Do it a few times.” His own arms were crossed tightly across his chest, resisting the impulse to crowd into the stall with the two kids so he could see what’s going on. When he saw butt hit the floor of the stall, Frank’s knees on the ground next to her, Robby hoped the worst had passed. “I’m going to get Jack, and we can get out of here.” As an afterthought, he added, “No one’s mad at you. This kind of thing happens. Everything’s okay.”

Jack was waiting at the table, the food already packed into to-go containers and the check signed. “What happened?”

Robby rubbed the back of his head, still not sure himself. “Some kind of anxiety attack. Threw up a few times. Seems like they wanted privacy. Do you want to pull the car around and we can get out of here?”

Jack just pressed a kiss to Robby’s cheek and rubbed his back as he passed. “Still the first day,” he reminded Robby. “We’ve handled worse.”

Robby swung by the bar to ask for a to-go cup of Sprite, and offered it to Trinity when she emerged from the bathroom, Frank hovering close behind her. “To settle your stomach,” he explained. She took it wordlessly, not meeting his eyes.

When they got back to the house, the kids beelined to their bedroom and closed the door sharply behind them. Robby collapsed boneless on the couch with a heavy sigh, and Jack sat next to him, cuddling into Robby’s side.

“Not great,” Jack said with a half-smile.

Robby groaned. “We’ve had MCIs go smoother than that.”

“You think we should try to get Trinity to eat something tonight? She had half a sandwich for lunch, but it didn’t sound like she had breakfast either.”

“She’s skinny,” Robby agreed. “So is he.”

“So was John,” Jack reminded him. “’He turned out well enough.”

Robby looked at their son’s picture on their mantle, lost in the memories until he realized—“Oh my god, did we even tell him that we’ve got kids again? Have you talked to him?”

Jack winced. “We should probably do that. I don’t want to smother him, seems like he’s settling in alright.”

“Sorry, I’m just anxious. I don’t know why.” Robby scrubbed a hand across his brow.

“Michael. Babe. You know why.” Jack pulled away so he was sitting sideways on the couch, facing Robby. “I saw your face when Frank talked about his dad taking him to games. I know it’s the day that Monty died. John is away from us for the longest period since we got him. And then on top of that, we took in kids again for the first time in a decade.”

“Okay, okay, I know why, I was just trying to ignore it. Happy?”

“No,” Jack said softly, carding his hand through Robby’s hair. “Of course I’m not happy.” Robby’s throat tightened, and he leaned back into Jack, letting himself be held.

“God, I’m tired,” Robby said eventually. “And hungry. You want to finish dinner?”

“I’m starving,” Jack agreed. “Need to get this leg off too. Want to talk to the kids first?”

“Yeah, we should. Hang on, let me just—” Robby grabbed snacks from the cabinet, as many as he could hold—protein bars, oreos, pretzels, fruit.

Jack worked his prosthesis off and grabbed his crutches, leading the way upstairs and knocking on the door. Frank opened it, looking apprehensive. “We were going to warm up the leftovers,” Jack said easily. “Do you guys want to eat with us? Otherwise, this guy brought snacks.”

Frank checked behind him, looking up towards his sister in the top bunk. “Just the snacks, I think.”

“Can I come in? There’s kind of…a lot.” Frank looked back again, then stepped aside. Robby dumped the snacks on the dresser, accidentally dropping one of the juice pouches. He used the opportunity to look up at Trinity in the top bunk. She seemed…okay. As good as she could be, after the day she had, Robby surmised. “We also wanted to check in about school tomorrow. Do you two want to go?”

“I have a test,” Trinity spoke up quietly.

“Same. So yeah, I guess we should.”

“Okay. Jack can drive you, you guys probably need to leave by 7:30. I leave around 6:30 for my shift, so I don’t know if I’ll catch you.”

“I can whip us up some breakfast,” Jack said. “I make some mean scrambled eggs.”

“Do you need anything for school? Want us to pack lunches?”

“We get the free state lunches,” Frank said. “They’re fine.”

God, Frank reminded Robby of himself. He knew it was going to be a long road to prove to these kids that they deserved the world. They were so used to being state-funded afterthoughts, a feeling that Robby still had trouble shaking, thirty-odd years later. “Well, let us know if you want something different,” Jack reminded them. Robby nodded in agreement. “Good night,” Jack said finally.

Robby felt the words catch in his throat. “Sleep tight.”

In the middle of the night, the house echoed with a scream. Robby hadn’t really been asleep anyway, so he was up in a flash, pulling on his bathrobe and running upstairs. He hesitated at the kids’ door, straining to hear what was going on as Jack hobbled up the stairs behind him. “Trinity?” Jack asked quietly.

“I think so.” The screaming had stopped, and he heard low murmurs. He knocked lightly. “Kids? Everything okay?”

“We’re fine!” Frank called back.

“Sorry!” Trinity’s thin voice followed.

Robby sucked in a breath. Patience. It was going to take a while to get them to stop apologizing. Jack rested a hand on Robby’s back. “Do you guys need anything?”

“No!” Frank sounded annoyed.

“We’re going back downstairs,” Jack called. “But we’re here if you need us.” Robby was finding it a lot harder to walk away than Jack did, but his husband tugged him back to their bedroom. “Let Frank handle it.”

Robby sat, stone-faced, on the edge of the bed. “He shouldn’t have to.”

“We’re not going to fix that tonight. Come back to bed.”

“Maybe I’ll sit up in the living room for a while. Just in case.”

“Michael,” Jack wheedled.

“I’m going to read a few chapters. Wasn’t sleeping much anyways.” Robby grabbed his book and headed to the living room, flicking on the lamp and reclining on the couch. When he had heard the scream in bed, for a heartbeat he had thought it was coming from himself. He had been tossing and turning, lost in memories of his own time in foster care, before he found Monty. Today had rattled him, left unsettled in way that he didn’t recognize and didn’t know how to fix.

He was finally starting to nod off when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Frank froze on the second-to-last step when he saw Robby, but seemed to realize that he had already been spotted himself. “I came down to get some water.”

“Glasses are in the cupboard to the left of the sink.” Robby put his book to the side and stretched, his bones creaking. “Having trouble falling asleep?”

Frank took a sip and leaned against the cabinet. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Did Trinity fall asleep again?”

Frank nodded.

“You take good care of her.”

“I’m her brother,” he said softly, like that explained everything.

“Jack and I would like to help, too, so it’s not all on your shoulders. You deserve to be a kid.”

Frank snorted. “I stopped being a kid a long time ago. You grow up fast in foster care.” He sat down in the armchair across from Robby, rubbing his finger around the rim of the water glass. “Not sure she’d let you help. She gets anxious around men, especially if she’s alone with them.”

Robby felt anger spark in his chest, but knew he had to stay calm. “Is that related to the PTSD that Gloria mentioned?” Frank gave him a no-shit-sherlock look. “So, Jack and I, both being men…not ideal.”

“Well, you guys are gay, so I think that’s a little less scary. But some of it, the anxiety stuff, she can’t really help.” He yawned.

“What can we do to make her more comfortable?”

“Just…let me deal with her. The puking, the nightmares…they’re not going to get better if you try to get close to her.”

Robby had a lot to talk about with Jack when he woke up. “Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Frank stood abruptly and chugged the water, then put the glass in the sink. “I’m, uh, going to go back to bed.”

Robby stood too, sensing he pushed things too far. “Good night, Frank.” He watched the teenager walk back up to his bedroom, then sighed and turned out the light, finally returning to his own room. His mind was racing as he climbed into bed and cuddled close to Jack. Frank was obviously independent, and probably would have done fine taking care of Trinity on his own. But Robby wanted to be good for the kids. He wanted to be for them what Monty had been for him—everything.

Chapter Text

Frank

Frank had enjoyed the Pirates game…but it was Trinity who couldn’t stop talking about it a week later. She had met a girl, the daughter of one of Robby and Jack’s surgeon friends, and had developed an insufferable crush. “Victoria has a Labubu,” Trinity said over breakfast on Sunday morning. “She was showing me pictures at the game, and she texted me that she’s going to bring it to school tomorrow.”

“A…what?” Robby’s face was screwed up in confusion, and he looked to Frank to explain, but he just shrugged.

Trin was pulling up pictures on her phone. “It’s a little stuffed animal thing from Hong Kong and they’re like, impossible to get. Her dad bought her one in New York.”

Frank wasn’t in the mood for Trinity’s jabbering right now. His back was hurting, because he was running low on oxy and needed to stretch his doses. He had halved the pill last night and doubled up on actual Tylenol, and taken the second half and two more Tylenol this morning, but it really wasn’t cutting it. He was trying to read his bio textbook, but Trinity shoved her phone under his face to show him the Labubu. He wrinkled his nose. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” He was glad that Trinity was relaxing around Jack and Robby, but did she have to be so fucking cheerful?

“It’s cute,” she insisted.

Jack came over from the stove to look. “I’m with Frank. Looks like it would come alive and eat you in your sleep.”

“Exactly,” Frank muttered.

“Victoria was wondering if she and I could maybe get some coffee today. Can I?”

“Sure,” Jack replied easily.

“I don’t have time today,” Frank said off-handedly. “I have to finish this assignment.”

When he looked up, Trinity was glaring at him. “Robby can take me after my therapy appointment,” she said slyly. Oh. Right. They had actual responsible foster parents now, and Frank didn’t have to chaperone.

He didn’t want to see the look on Robby’s face. Probably somewhere between smug and ecstatic. “Fine.”

“I’ll text Eileen and make sure she’s okay with it,” Robby added. “And nothing caffeinated. We don’t want you guys addicted to anything until your brains are fully formed.”

Frank froze. There was no way Robby and Jack knew about his little habit. But he had been obsessing over the oxy recently, calculating the time he could wait in between doses and how many days they would last him, or thinking about how he could slip away to buy more. He thought about it so much that sometimes he worried that it was written across his forehead: ADDICT. But he wasn’t really an addict, because he was in pain and genuinely needed the pills, so how could it be a bad thing?

“Frank?” Jack asked quietly.

Frank’s head snapped up, realizing someone had asked him a question. “Sorry, I was just…this Krebs cycle thing is…I’m supposed to memorize it, and it’s not clicking.”

“They’re teaching the Krebs cycle in high school biology?”

“AP biology,” Frank corrected.

“You want any help?”

“I guess.”

“Alright, walk me through it. Where are you getting stuck?” Frank was used to being the one giving the tutoring, but it was surprisingly helpful to study with Jack, who could answer questions that even the textbook couldn’t. Which, good, because he was a doctor. He probably should be able to answer the hard questions. Frank finished his homework assignment and started the next one, and barely waved goodbye when Robby and Trinity left.

Jack had returned to doing the dishes while Frank started the next section of the textbook. His back was aching, crunched over in the chair, and it was getting harder and harder to focus. He had begun staring at Jack’s back, watching the subtle shifts as the man balanced between his fake foot and real foot. Frank closed the textbook. “So…in the ER…do you guys treat a lot of car accidents?”

Jack turned around, drying his hands. “Pretty much every day.”

“What about like…bad ones?”

“Yeah, those too.”

“When people hurt their backs, is it kind of a permanent thing?”

“It can be.” Jack’s gaze was like an x-ray, seeing right through him. “You want to ask what’s really on your mind?”

“It’s been almost two years, since the accident. And it still hurts, like, every day, and sometimes it’s really bad. Is it…Is it ever going to get better?”

“What did they tell you about it? Did they give you a diagnosis?”

“Uh, it’s just kind of a mess. The discs are shit, there were broken vertebrae, and an incomplete spinal something. SC…SCY?”

“SCI?”

Frank shrugged. “Sounds right.”

“Spinal cord injury,” Jack explained. “Incomplete means that you didn’t fully sever it. If you had, you probably wouldn’t be walking right now. You had surgery?”

“Three. Two of them right after the accident, and then one a year ago.”

Jack crossed his arms. “Backs are complicated. I’d need to look at your full history, scans, treatment plans. But I will, if you give me permission. I can’t treat you, as your foster parent, but we can get you set up with specialists. If you’re still in pain, there’s probably things we can do to help.”

It sounded great, for sure, but Frank had a feeling that if someone who actually cared looked at his medical records, they’d figure out his secret in a heartbeat. And it was personal, to give someone access to your trauma, and lay out every single thing that made you vulnerable. “I’m really sick of doctors,” he admitted.

Jack gave him a wry grin. “You and me both, kid.” He walked over and pulled a chair out next to Frank, then hoisted his leg up. “You wanna see?” Frank nodded in fascination, and Jack released his prosthesis, setting it to the side, then pulled off the two sleeves that covered his stump. “I was in the army, in Afghanistan. Lost it in an IED attack. It took me almost two years just to be walking normally.” There was a neat scar across the end of the limb, but it trailed upwards, turning into a divoted snarl on Jack’s thigh.

Frank couldn’t stop staring. “Do you think my back’s going to hurt forever?”

“I’m not going to lie to you. No one can know for sure. The hard part about recovery is that you only get out of it what you put into it, and a lot of times it feels like you’re fighting an uphill battle. And the shittiest part of it all is, you never know if it’s going to work.”

Frank looked away so Jack wouldn’t see the tear that had escaped down his cheek. He heard Jacks’ chair scoot back against the wood floors, then the light hops as Jack balanced against the counter. Frank stood up too, wincing as his back protested. “What do I do?” he asked, feeling empty.

“I can call Gloria, and start the paperwork to get your medical records, and set up an appointment with a specialist. It could take a few weeks, but I’ll pull every string I need to. Do you want me to do that?”

Frank wasn’t convinced. “More doctors?”

“Well, yeah. But Robby or I will be with you at every appointment. And we’re going to make sure you understand what’s happening, and you have control in your treatment plan.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Sure.” Jack was examining him from a distance. “Does it hurt right now?”

It did. It hurt like crazy. Frank wanted to take an entire oxy, not just half. “Not too bad, but I think I need to lay down for a bit.”

“You want the ice pack? Some Tylenol?”

“I’ll take the ice pack, I guess.”

Jack got it from the freezer and wrapped it in a towel before handing it over. “15 minutes max,” he reminded.

Frank grimaced and walked upstairs. He pulled the Tylenol bottle from his backpack and poured out two halves of oxy, then a third, and a fourth…rationing be damned. He swallowed them before he could think too much about it, arranged the ice pack, and fell backward onto the bed, thinking.

He wasn’t sure what he had been hoping for, talking to Jack. On one hand, it was nice to be spoken to like a man, with respect, and understanding, and truth. On the other, he really could have used some reassurance. He was so tired of being broken and useless, and he just wanted…he wanted to go back, to before it all started.

 You deserve to be a kid, Robby had said last week.

Trinity deserved to be a kid. Frank wasn’t sure what he deserved. There was something inside him that was rotten, and it was eating him alive. He wasn’t sure when it started. It could have been his first oxy, or the car accident, or the first time a social worker left six-year-old Frank with a stranger.

The oxy smoothed out the edges, taking the glare off everything. It would help him get through the back recovery too, the tough parts that Jack was talking about. But he needed a refill. He made just enough money tutoring to keep up his habit; the savings account Gloria thought he was depositing his checks into was dryer than a desert.

Frank had stayed on the ice pack for a lot longer than fifteen minutes, but the numbness felt necessary, even as his skin started stinging. It helped him make a decision. He finally sat up and dug around in his backpack for the cash he had hidden in an old pair of socks, and pocketed it. He shot off a text. Need more. Library in an hour?

Seconds later: Ok.

Frank walked downstairs gingerly and returned the ice pack to the fridge, then found Jack doing some stretches on the floor of his bedroom. PT exercises, maybe, based on the familiar resistance bands. “Uh, I was going to go for a walk. The PT said I should keep moving, so…”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea! Movement is good.” Jack encouraged. “Want me to come with? I have a good route for my runs that I could show ya’. It goes past a cool culvert; Robby and I go magnet fishing sometimes.” God, that man was a nerd, Frank thought. Also, somehow, the most badass person he had ever met.

“No, that’s okay. I thought it would be nice to explore on my own a bit. Clear my head.” The lie felt flat on his tongue, but he needed to take advantage of the precious hours without Trinity glued to his side.

“Alright, no problem. Take your phone.” Frank held it up to show Jack, and the man nodded. “Good. Call if you get lost.”

That was…easier than expected. Frank let himself out of the house and pulled up the address on his phone. It would be a 45 minute walk to meet his dealer, but it’s not like he could afford an uber.  The thought of calling Abby crossed his mind, but the less she knew about this, the better. Instead, he put in a pair of headphones, cranking the volume up to drown out the sound of cars flying past. 45 minutes was maybe too long of a walk, his hip flexors felt like old rubber bands that could snap at any moment, but he’d suck it up for this.

They met at a library, in one of the study rooms. His dealer wasn’t much of a dealer, just another high schooler that had hookups. “Hey, Terrance,” Frank said, slouching in a chair.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” Terrance slid a book towards him. “What are we studying today?” Frank always told himself that he hung around to avoid suspicions, but spending time with Terrance at the library was also just…calm.

“Insects.” Terrance knew a lot about a lot of things. He was probably autistic, if Frank had to guess. They had met in remedial math last year, after Frank got out of the hospital and needed to catch up in all of his classes. Terrance was the closest thing Frank had to a friend at school, aside from Abby, but this was all they ever did with each other, reading books full of drugs in the library. He never asked Terrance what his hook up was, and never planned to.

Frank opened the book, a guide to the region’s beetles, and settled in. His phone vibrated once, then again, but he was finding peace in the beetle book, with Terrance reading quietly beside him. When he finished the book, he slid the baggie of pills out of the book sleeve and tucked the cash between the last page and the back cover, then handed it back. Smooth as butter.

Checking the clock, he realized over an hour had passed. He cleared his throat. “Good seein’ you, Terrance. Uh, thanks.”

Terrance’s nose was buried in his book. “Bye Frank.”

As he was walking out, a librarian stopped him, touching his arm. “Young man, I see you here with Terrance sometimes.” Frank stilled, wondering where this was going. “I’m glad he has a friend. It’s good of you to spend time with him.”

“He’s a better friend to me than I am to him,” he said smoothly, the words tacky and false in his mouth. The librarian cooed, and Frank walked out with a fake smile plastered to his face and a questionable feeling in his gut. This used to be easier, with less guilt attached. He checked his phone, seeing texts from Jack, and put it away again. Instead of starting the walk back home, Frank felt himself moving in the opposite direction. Not running away, like Trinity was wont to do. Just walking. Slowly, methodically.

Walking made Frank feel like he was making a way for himself in the world. He made the decisions; he set the pace. He didn’t get to do this a lot, to go wherever he pleased, so he needed to take advantage of it while he could. And maybe, maybe, the double dose of oxy that morning made him feel a tad…untethered. When his phone buzzed again, he turned it off.

He walked for around half an hour, and finally found a bench in a park to rest, because his hip flexors truly felt like they were about to be torn off the bone if he kept going, and his back felt like a stack of wobbly jenga blocks. He sat for a while, watching people walk past him without a care in the world. The baggie in his pocked was full of promise, of potential, that one day he’d be pain-free and carefree too.

Living with Robby and Jack hadn’t been that bad. They were nice, they were reasonable, and so far, the only red flag had been them insisting that Frank carry around not one, but two EpiPens, in case someone ever shoved an avocado down his throat, or something. But no one had said anything about long-term. As far as he knew, this was still just an emergency placement. And Frank could live with that.

After an hour or so, when his stomach started rumbling, Frank stood up.

Or, he tried to stand. The pain nearly made his legs give out. It was like someone stuck hot pokers into his pelvis, and there was fire radiating through his hips and spine, sparkling all the way through his nervous system. So, he thought grimly, the oxy had worn off. His breath caught, and his mind stalled. I can’t move. I can’t move. I can’t move. He pressed his hands to his hips, massaging the muscle and hoping pressure could help calm the pain, but was slowly realizing how much he had screwed himself over. He could barely stand, let alone walk an hour home…probably an hour and a half, with how far he had gone.

His hands were shaking, he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and he was stupid. How did he let it get so bad? He took an oxy out of his pocket and swallowed it dry, just to help calm himself. Gritting his teeth, he turned his phone on. There were missed texts and calls from Jack and Robby, increasing in urgency, but more worrying were 17 missed texts from Trinity.

Where are you?

what the fuck

come back

You can’t leave me with them

Please.

He decided Jack was probably the most level-headed one right now, and reluctantly placed the call. “Frank? Where are you? Are you okay?” In the background, he could hear Trinity begging to put the call on speaker.

“I’m okay. I’m uh, at the park off Benton Ave.”

“In Brighton Heights?”

“Yeah. I, uh…it was a lot of walking. And I’m really sore now, I…” Frank choked up a bit, the vulnerability followed closely by a wave of shame. “I don’t know if I can get back.”

“Stay where you are, Mikey was driving around looking for you, I think he’s actually close.  I gotta call him though, and then he’ll call you right after. You sure you’re okay? You’re safe?”

“Yeah.”

Jack paused before hanging up. “…hang in there, kid.”

Frank stared at the phone, waiting for it to ring again. Without realizing, he had been gone for over four hours now, and even though Jack had never explicitly set any sort of curfew or return time, Frank imagined that he would be in trouble. Other fosters might not have cared, but so far, Jack and Robby weren’t like other fosters. Frank jumped when the phone vibrated, and answered before he knew what to say. “…Hi.”

“You’re at Brighton Heights Park?” Robby’s voice was clipped. It could be anger, could be worry; Frank didn’t know him well enough to tell.

“Yeah.”

 “Jack said your back hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you describe it? What does it feel like, and where is the pain?” So, the shortness in his tone wasn’t emotion, it was clinical professionalism. Dr. Robby was on the phone.

“It feels like…stabbing. In my hips, and kind of on the left side of my lower back. And the nerves are like…twitching.”

“Did you fall or trip? Anything that tweaked it?”

“No. I was just walking for a really long time, and I felt my hips getting like…tight? I stopped for a while and then when I tried to stand up again it felt like they were on fire.”

“Probably just some inflammation. Jack and I can check you out at home, and we’ll take you in if you need it.”

“I don’t.”

“Any tingling or numbness? Bowel issues?”

“No.”

“Good.” There was a beat of silence, and Frank could hear car horns blaring on Robby’s end of the call. “I’m close. Maybe a minute out. Where are you?”

“By the gazebo.” Frank felt the same apprehension in his belly as he did when he was ten, and he was waiting for one of his first foster to decide his punishment for breaking a window with a football.

“I think I see you…I’m parking…okay, hanging up.”

Frank looked over his shoulder and clocked Robby approaching, almost running towards him. He struggled to his feet, supporting himself on the back of the bench. “Hi.”

Robby’s breathing was a little rushed, but his gaze was steady. “You had us worried.”

“I’m sorry, really, I just lost track of time.”

“We can talk more at home.”

Frank sighed. So Robby was angry. “Sorry,” he said again. He pushed away from the bench and took a tentative step, wincing as everything pulled taut. When he looked up, Robby was at his side, his hands hovering.

“Can I help?” The anger was gone, replaced with pity. “Please.”

“I got it,” Frank said stonily. He was stiff, but he could force his legs to take measured, even steps towards the car. Robby’s jaw was tight as he stayed close, matching Frank’s pace. He opened the door and offered his hand to get Frank in the car, but Frank ignored it and planted himself in the seat, trying to breathe through a spike in the pain as he swung his legs in.

The drive home was silent, terrifyingly so. Frank could tell now that Robby was mad; he could feel it simmering under the surface. It would have to come out eventually…right? When they got back inside, Jack had the ice pack and a dose of Tylenol waiting. They settled him down on the couch, Trinity sitting on the floor by his knees, and the four of them stared at each other. Jack broke the silence. “When you said you were going to take a walk, I expected it to be half an hour. Not four.”

Frank set his jaw. “It wasn’t going to be that long, but I decided to go to the library, and it was further away than I thought.”

“That’s bullshit,” Robby ground out from clenched teeth.

“Michael,” Jack cautioned.

“I said I was going to explore, and I did,” Frank said bullishly, trying to cover how scared he was. Foster kids got kicked out of homes for less, and he could feel their chances of staying in this house going up in flames. Idiot.

Robby leaned forward. “You’re 16; you’re old enough to know what a lie of omission is. You could have told Jack you were going to the library. You could have texted.” Frank cast his eyes down, feeling shame creeping in. “Do you know how worried we were? How worried Trinity was?” The girl froze when her name was brought up, clearly not wanting to be pitted against her brother.

Jack laid a restraining hand on Robby’s leg. “Frank, we didn’t make it clear earlier, so we’re making it clear now. You’re old enough to make a lot of decisions for yourself, but Robby and I are responsible for keeping you safe. We want to know where you are, and when you’re coming home. We need you to keep your phone on, and respond to texts, so all of us can know that you’re safe.” Frank swallowed hard and nodded. Jack was disappointed in him, and it hurt more than he expected. “Do you want to say anything?” He thought about defending himself, but at this point, it seemed safer to keep his mouth shut, and he shook his head. Jack’s face softened. “Can I take a look at your back?”

It didn’t feel like a question, but Frank really couldn’t stomach the idea of a doctor’s prodding touch right now. “…can we…not?”

Robby scoffed and stalked out of the room, and Jack must have seen that Frank’s eyes trailed after the man. “He was worried,” Jack said simply. “But that’s on him. It’s okay if you don’t want to be examined. Totally up to you.”

“Um,” Frank was embarrassed by the tremor in his voice and a blush colored his cheeks. “Should we pack?”

“Pack what?”

Frank’s cheeks grew even more red. “Our stuff. To leave?”

“No.” Jack’s voice was low and firm “No one’s going anywhere. There’s not going to be any other punishment or lectures. We know it’s hard to adjust to a new home, and there’s always going to be growing pains. Robby just forgot that, but it’s because he already cares about you guys. I do too. And we don’t want to see you hurt. So, do you want to stay down here, or go to your bedroom for a while?”

“I think…upstairs,” Frank replied guardedly. He swung his legs off the couch and groaned. Stiff, again. Lord, he spent half of his life with a crick in his back like an 80-year-old. He was steadier on his feet though, the ice pack working its magic (along with the most recent oxy and another double dose of Tylenol, of course). Jack followed him upstairs and helped him get comfortable on the bed, then hesitated at the door. “Take all the time you need.”

When the door closed, Trinity rounded on him with fire in her eyes.  “Why’d you do it?”

“I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you nervous. Thought I’d beat you home.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Just the library.”

“I don’t see any books.”

Frank hated lying to her. “It was the library, Trin, I don’t know what you want me to say. I just needed space.”

“And you waited until I was gone. You left me, alone, with them.”

Frank flinched. He hadn’t even thought about Trinity in all this, and how scared she would have been, for him and for herself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Trinity hesitated, then threw herself into his arms with the force of…well, with the force of a car being driven 90mph by a coke-head. She had her mother’s strength.

Frank hugged her back, holding her as he felt the emotions shaking out of her small body. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, trying to hold back his own tears. He was stupid. He did something really stupid, and it was sheer, dumb luck that he wasn’t suffering the consequences.

Chapter Text

Robby

The cracks were starting to show. The last four days had been what Robby and Jack called their “sun-and-moon” time, where they worked completely opposite shifts, and only got to spend a few short moments together during handoffs. Robby never slept well when the shifts lined up like this, but at least the four-day swings were followed by two glorious, uninterrupted days with just the two of them…or the four of them, as it was now.

Work had been the easy part of the last four days, because it had been the only way he could shut his brain off. Coming home was like walking back into purgatory. After his admittedly harsh lecture to Frank on Sunday, Jack had given Robby a lecture of his own, and Robby had apologized in the same night. But the damage had been done. Trinity had turned down dinner again, the kids spent the whole night behind their closed bedroom door, and Robby had a small-ish breakdown in the garage. Things had been frosty ever since.

But today, they both had the day free, Jack had just woken up and was showering, and there was at least a half hour before the kids got back from school. Robby knew exactly what he wanted to do with that half hour. He was lying in their bed reading, his shirt off, because Jack loved his chest hair and told him so frequently and enthusiastically.

Jack stepped out of the bathroom and blinked. “Oh,” he breathed.

Robby smiled. “You like what you see? We have some time before the kids get home.”

“I…god, Michael.” Jack took a step closer, holding onto the wall rail between the bathroom and the closet, and Robby felt very satisfied with himself. Jack shook his head. “Shit. No. Put your shirt on, we need to talk.” He opened the closet and grabbed some clothes, sitting down on a stool just inside the door to dress. “John called me.”

“Oh?”  Reluctantly, Robby reached for his own shirt that he had tossed to the floor.

Jack sighed. “He’s having a rough week. A rough couple of weeks. Not sleeping well.”

Just like that, Robby’s mood dropped. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah, and his anxiety’s been flarin’ up too.”

“Did he say why?”

“Said something about his roommate bringing home girls all the time, and a paper that he missed the deadline on, but I think there’s somethin’ else too.”

“You guys had a nice long conversation without me, then.”

Jack shot him an unimpressed look. “I can’t control when he calls, Robby. You were working, and I didn’t get a chance to tell you until now.”

Robby sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jack put his leg on. “What do you think we should do? Drive out to see him? Is he talking to someone about it? What did you say?”

“We talked a bit about the nightmares and what he’s doing to manage the anxiety. He’s okay, and he wants to do this himself.”

“Maybe I’ll call him later.” Robby picked at a hangnail on his thumb. “Do you think he’s avoiding me? He knows our shifts.”

“He doesn’t memorize our shifts, babe. He knows you’re on days, but how is he supposed to know which days?”

“Right.”

“And he’s busy being a college freshman. Tests! Feeding himself! Frat parties!”

Jack managed to get a smile on Robby’s face, but it slipped away as his thoughts spun anxiously. “Maybe he’s being distant because he feels like he’s being replaced. He just moved out a few weeks ago, and we already have two new kids. If it’s triggering his anxiety, maybe we need to talk to him more. Reassure him.”

“He seemed okay with it. Said it would be cool to have siblings.”

“Still. We could do better. Maybe I’ve been neglecting him. Shit.”

“You’re not neglecting him, you’re giving him space.” Jack walked over to pull him up from the bed, and they wrapped their arms around each other, a pretty sufficient substitute for the intimacy Robby had been deprived of.

 “Just trying not to be a terrible dad,” he admitted.

“Now we’re talking about Frank again, aren’t we?” Jack said, the words pressed into Robby’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Robby muttered back, maybe his sixteenth apology in the last week. “I don’t know what happened. I just lost it.”

They were interrupted by Robby’s phone buzzing. He glanced at it, hoping it was John, but sighed when he saw that it was Gloria. “Hello?”

“Are the kids home from school? I need to talk to them.”

“About what?” Fear churned in his stomach…maybe Frank had called her, complaining about how Robby had treated him.

“Their mother was in solitary confinement for a few months and couldn’t have visitors, but the restrictions have been lifted and she wants to see them again.”

Well…that was worse. From the little that the kids had said, Robby got the distinct impression that neither one of them ever wanted to see their mother again. “That’s gonna be a hard sell,” he told her. Jack tugged on his arm, and Robby put the phone on speaker.

“Frank can say no, but Trinity doesn’t have a choice. She’s 12, so the law compels her to attend the visitations.”

“They’re not home yet. But listen, isn’t there anything we can do? Trinity has been doing so well, and this could go really badly.”

“It’s policy.”

“She’s a mature 12-year-old; she should get to make her own choices. Or what if we talk to her therapist? I’m sure they wouldn’t support this as being in her best interests.”

“Robby, you need to let this go.”

“I’m not going to let this go!” He said heatedly. Jack tried to wrestle the phone out of his hands. “You don’t know these kids, it’s not going to be good for either one of them!”

Jack finally succeeded in taking the phone, and he took it off speaker. “Gloria, this is Jack. Yeah…we’ll talk to them. I agree with Robby though, they’re not going to take it well. I know, I know, reunification is the goal.” Robby groaned, but Jack silenced him with a look. “We’re not…of course we’re not encouraging that…Listen, let me talk to them and I’ll call you back later. Thanks, bye.”

Jack tossed the phone back at Robby, but it was more of a fastball than an underhand.  “What was that? You can’t…not to Gloria, man. What’s wrong with you?” The sudden heat in Jack’s tone took the wind out of Robby’s sails. “I care about these two as much as you do, and if you do anything stupid because of your temper, I swear to god…”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, dragging his hands through his hair. “I don’t know, I feel like I’m going crazy. This isn’t me, you know that.”

“I know,” Jack said, his anger evaporating. He took Robby’s hands in his own and grasped them. “Talk to me.”

“This is why John called you,” Robby said heavily. “I’m not what he needs. And I’m not what Frank and Trinity need; I messed up, and they need better. I can’t be stupid. And I keep thinking about Monty, and he helped me so much with John, but he’s gone now, and I don’t know why I ever thought I could do this without him.” His breaths were getting fast, and he looked at the ceiling so the tears in his eyes couldn’t escape. “Fuck,” he whined.

“Mikey. Love, look at me. You are what they need. They need people that fight for them, and won’t give up on them, and won’t back down.” Robby nodded blindly, and Jack held his hands in an iron grip, squeezing for emphasis. “This is a fight. So don’t back down.”

The front door opened then, the kids chattering over the threshold, and Robby ducked his head to wipe away the tears. “Go,” he told Jack, pushing him away. “Give me a minute.”

Robby took a few deep breaths, trying to settle the pressure in his chest. He really wasn’t feeling like himself, even before the kids came. A month ago he had run labs on himself, just to be sure. Healthy as a horse. A horse with blood pressure that was just a little bit too high for the horse’s age, but nothing for the horse to be too worried about.

Taking a big breath, he stood up and saw something that made him smile. He grabbed it from his bag and joined the kids and Jack in the living room. “Hey, Trinity, remember how you were talking about how hard these were to get?” He presented the weird stuffed toy with a flourish. “Your Labubu, madam.”

“No way,” Trinity said in awe. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“Trin,” Frank protested weakly at the swear.

“I asked around at the hospital,” Robby said proudly. “One of my residents has a bunch. I bought this off her, so it’s not brand new, but…”

“I love it.” It was the happiest Robby had seen her yet, so if paying three times the market price is what it took to make her happy, he’d do it again.

“And, uh, which of our residents was that exactly?” Jack asked, looking amused.

“Mohan.” Jack nodded like it made sense. “So, how was school?” Robby asked tentatively.

“Boring,” Trinity said, already taking selfies with her Labubu. Robby still didn’t get it.

“Frank?”

His name pulled the teen out of the depths of his own phone. “Huh?”

“How was school?”

“Good. Uh…Abby was wondering if she could come over tonight.”

“Abby?”

Frank’s cheeks flamed, and Trinity smiled devilishly. “She’s Frank’s girlfriend.”

“I don’t have…She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just…Abby. She was wondering if she could cook for us? All of us.”

Robby looked at Jack, who smirked. “She wants to cook for us? Why?”

“I don’t know, she likes to cook or something.” He shrugged in a mystified teen way that Robby recognized with a wry smile.

Jack sighed. “There’s something we should talk about first, then you can invite Abby over if you still want her to come.”

Robby could see the second the words registered. The kids put their phones down and glanced at each other warily. He wrung his hands. “Gloria called me today. Your mother wants to see you.”

“No fucking way,” Frank seethed. “Not in a million years. She…she did this to me. She ruined everyth—No.” He glanced between Jack and Robby, his eyes dark and dangerous. “I’m sixteen, so you can’t make me, right?”

“Right,” Robby confirmed. “But…” he looked helplessly at Trinity, who had gone silent.

“She’s not going either!” Frank spat. He stood up and started pacing. “That woman…she doesn’t deserve shit. There’s no way I’m letting Trin go.”

“It’s court ordered,” Robby said, gritting his teeth. “We talked to Gloria, we tried to convince her that you two wouldn’t want to go. We tried, I swear.” He thought he saw something change in Frank’s eyes. “But…the ultimate goal of foster care is reunification with a bio parent. This is part of that.”

“I age out of the system in a year and a half. Her sentence won’t be done by then, so I’m taking Trinity, and we’re getting the hell out.” The flat hardness in Frank’s tone made Robby shiver. It was the first time they had talked long-term, and hearing his plan felt like nails on a chalkboard. “Foster care be damned.”

Robby met Jack’s panicked eyes and forced himself to take a breath. “Trinity,” he said gently. “What do you think?”

“No.” They could hear the rasp in her voice, and knew she was swallowing tears.

“We can be there with you,” Jack said gently. “Robby and I will come and sit with you.”

“She said no,” Frank said, planting himself in front of her. “So you guys need to back the fuck down and leave us alone.”

“They could take you away from us,” Jack interjected, his own voice thin and tense. “If they think we’re standing in the way of reunification, or influencing you in any way, they could remove you from our care.”

And the way Frank’s head spun around in shock…the way his face fell, the tiniest bit, when that was suggested…it was a split-second reassurance for Robby that maybe he hadn’t fucked up so badly. Frank looked at Trinity, still frozen on the couch. “What if…What if I go instead of her? Do you think they’d agree to that?”

This fucking kid. On the edge of a panic attack, but desperate to protect his sister.

“We can ask,” Jack said. “I think it’s up to your Mom.”

“She’s never going to agree to that. I saw her once, after the hospital. I think she knows I’m a lost cause, but she’s going to…” he stared down at Trinity. “She’s going to try to convince you that she’s a victim in all this, and she’s going to try to make you feel bad for her. She’s going to try to manipulate you, and make you promise to live with her after she’s out.” His voice was wavering. “Don’t. She’ll just use you, and, and…and wreck you.” Robby felt sick. Frank looked hollow, like his mom had stolen everything good inside of him.

Trinity was crying outright now, and Frank sat down next to her to pull her close. “If you go, I go,” he said thickly. “And they’ll go. All four of us. You’re not going to be alone with her for a second.” Trinity looked up, and Robby and Jack nodded solemnly.

“I’ll call Gloria, make sure that’s alright.” Jack murmured, pulling out his cell. He walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Robby leaned back in the armchair and rubbed his forehead. The room was silent; they could hear Jack talking but couldn’t make out the words. Frank had his arm around Trinity, and she was leaning into his side, their faces eerily blank. “When was the last time you saw your Mom, Trinity?”

Frank answered instead. “A little over a year ago. I was still in the hospital.”

“I was living with the Cunninghams,” Trinity added softly.

Robby didn’t miss the way Frank pulled her even closer when he heard the name. “How was she?”

“Dunno,” she said dully. “Can’t really remember.”

Alarm bells went off in Robby’s head. This was the first he was hearing about the Cunninghams, and it was obviously a sensitive topic. And if Trinity couldn’t remember what happened during that time…he wondered if he was uncovering some layers to her PTSD. Jack came back into the living room before Robby could decide whether or not to ask more. “Gloria said that Trinity needs to attend. But we can all be there too. The next visiting day is Wednesday, you guys’ll miss some school in the morning.” Jack sat down heavily. “Do you two want to talk about this? Do you have any questions about what to expect?”

The kids were quiet, and Robby could see them almost…shutting down. It was hard to watch. “Anything you want us to know?”

“She’s not a good person,” Frank said lowly. “Doesn’t want anything to do with us, unless it’s to benefit herself. There’s an angle to this, I guarantee you. She’s going to try to manipulate all of us, so you just have to be, like…smarter. Don’t play into whatever she’s trying to do.”

Trinity looked ill. “She’s not that bad. She used to take me to gymnastics, and she came to all the school stuff, and she liked to make cookies. It’s the drugs. She’s just mean when she’s using.”

Frank’s jaw twitched. “If she really loved us, we wouldn’t be in foster care right now.” He looked up to meet Robby’s eyes. “No offense.”

“We love having you guys here,” Jack said. “But we know it wasn’t easy, and you two have a lot of reason to wish you were somewhere else.”

Robby felt the kids going quiet again. “Do you want to talk about anything else?” They shook their heads, so Robby cocked his head, subtly asking Jack if they should give the kids some space. Jack nodded. “We’re going to be in the kitchen if you need us.”

Frank’s phone vibrated, and Robby noticed the ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Is it still okay if Abby comes over? I told her at school it was probably okay and she said she got groceries already.”

Robby’s eyebrows rose. “It’s fine with us. She doesn’t need to cook for Jack and I; we can order Chinese and get out of your way if you’d like.”

“She wants to impress you, I think.” Frank blushed again. “She’s weird like that.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Robby already liked this young woman who made Frank so besotted. “She can come over whenever, as long as you guys get your homework done.”

“Thanks!”

Jack followed Robby into the kitchen, chuckling. “He is so far gone for her.”

Robby grabbed him around the waist and kissed his forehead. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

Jack lightly wacked his back when the kiss lingered a little too long. “Wonder how long they’ve been together.”

“I was wondering if anyone has told him about the birds and the bees.”

“He’s in AP Biology, I think he knows about birds and bees.”

Robby grimaced. “I’m serious! He’s 16. We should probably get him some condoms. Make sure they’re being safe.”

“He’s gonna love that.” Jack smiled. “Wouldn’t hurt to talk to Trinity too.” Robby’s face grew grim, and Jack pulled back. “What?”

“Remember I told you what Frank said the other night, about her not trusting men? I’m worried that she may have been sexually assaulted. And then while you were in talking to Gloria tonight, Frank had a weird reaction when Trinity mentioned an old foster home. She was with this family by herself when Frank was in the hospital. I think whatever happened…if it did happen…could have happened there.”

“So this becomes a very loaded conversation,” Jack said softly.

“And it definitely includes consent.”

“Definitely.”

“Fuck.”

Jack stared at the wall, like he could see Trinity on the other side. “Does Gloria know?”

“I feel like she would have told us…we could check, but I don’t want to start anything that Trinity isn’t ready for. It’s just suspicion at this point.”

Jack poured himself a glass of water, then planted it on the counter with a sharp clack. “I want them, Michael. What Frank said, about taking Trin and running…I want them to stay here. Forever.”

“Me too.”

“I knew the second they walked through the door. And it doesn’t seem like either of them want to live with their mom ever again.”

“Reunification,” Robby murmured, the reminder heavy and bitter on his tongue.

“Voluntary termination of parental rights,” Jack countered. “Or involuntary.”

“We need to slow down. Meet the mother. Get a better idea of what’s what.”

“I know. Just want to be sure we’re on the same page.” They stared at each other, hope reflected in both of their eyes. “We have to talk to John.”

A laugh spilled out of Robby’s chest. “Slow down,” he implored again. “We have to get through dinner first.”

“You think we should make dessert?” Jack mused. “Maybe do somethin’ to welcome her?”

Robby smiled widely, an idea forming in his head. “Frank!” He called to the living room. “What’s Abby’s favorite flower?”

Chapter Text

Frank

Frank fidgeted on the sofa, his hands sweating. Dinner had sounded good when Abby suggested it (anything sounded good when Abby suggested it), but now that Jack and Robby had gotten wind of the plan, they had made it into…a lot. Robby took him to buy a bouquet of flowers, and Jack had “whipped up a galette”, whatever the hell that meant. Jack was still walking around in an apron that said Having a mental bake down, and well, wasn’t that accurate.

The timing definitely could have been better. Frank was still reeling from the conversation about his mom.  Trinity was in a mood too, her expression closed off and borderline hostile as she read a book for English class. But Frank believed in the power of Abby. She could cheer him up on his darkest days, and Frank knew that Trin wasn’t any more immune to Abby’s charms than he was.

The Walkers had loved Abby the few times they had met her, but she had never cooked dinner for them, so Frank truly had no idea where the hell this was coming from. He was trying not to think about what it meant for them as couple…or whatever they were. The doorbell rang and he jumped off the couch, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans before he opened the door. “Hey,” she said, beaming.

“Hey, you.” Frank breathed. She was gorgeous, her red hair pulled back into a curly ponytail and green eyes sparkling.

He let her in, taking the grocery bag from her and clearing his throat. “Abby, this is Jack, and Robby.”

“Nice to meet you, Abby,” Robby said warmly.

“You too! Hey Trin,” Abby said, still smiling. “Oh, are you reading The Outsiders? That’s a good one.”

Trinity looked up, “It’s okay.”

Abby looked around the house politely, and Frank grabbed the flowers, presenting them shyly. “These are for you.”

“Oh my god, Frank, they’re beautiful, thank you! Do you have a glass we can put them in?”

“Uh, a glass. Right. For…?”

“Water. To keep them hydrated until I take them home.”

“Oh, duh.” Frank was realizing…he was nervous. Not just about visiting his mom, but about making sure things went perfectly tonight. He took a deep breath as he filled a glass with water, and watched carefully as Abby poured some back out before balancing the bouquet in the cup.

“Trin seems…weird. She okay?”

“We have to go visit our mom,” he said flatly. “She decided that now she wants to see us. Because things were going a little too smoothly, I guess. I…didn’t take it well. And Trin didn’t either.”

“She’s a bitch,” Abby announced. “Your mom, not Trin, obviously. Want me to come? I’ll fight her for you.”

He smiled wryly. “I’d let you.” She was unpacking groceries now, laying out the ingredients on the counter. “So, we’re like…actually cooking?”

“Well, I am at least. Do you have a baking sheet and tinfoil?”

“Uhhhhh…” He had literally just seen Jack use the baking sheet and tinfoil an hour ago. Frank opened drawers and cabinets, letting them bang shut as Abby giggled.

“Babe. Don’t let them slam!”

Frank emerged triumphantly from a bottom cabinet with a baking pan, making his back twinge. “And tinfoil…next to the fridge, I think?” Miraculously, he got the drawer right on the first try.

“Chopping board?”

He pulled it out from the same cabinet of the baking pan, wincing as his back twisted again. Abby handed him a knife and a bell pepper. “Long thin strips.” He picked up the pepper and turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out the best place to start cutting.  His mystification must have been obvious, because Abby snorted. “Oh, sweet jesus. No one’s ever taught you how to cook, have they?”

“And who taught you? Your mom?” The words came out with more edge that he’d intended.

Abby paused, then nodded. “Fair point. Okay, lay it on its side and chop off the top and bottom. Yes, good.” She guided him through clearing out the seeds and the pith, and julienning the flesh. Frank was learning all sorts of new words today. She set more peppers next to him. “Now do it three more times.”

She preheated the oven, chopped an onion, and unwrapped the salmon before starting a pot of rice and beans on the stove, all in the time it took Frank to chop one more pepper. “So…your mom. She’s still in…”

“Prison, yeah.”

“And you guys have to go see her?”

Frank cringed. “Don’t really want to talk about it, Abs.” She pursed her lips. “What are we making?”

“Fajita salmon with rice and beans. I was going to make guac, but I didn’t feel like killing you today.”

“I hope they like fish.”

“You said they ate anything!” she hissed.

He grimaced. Please, let him not accidentally kill one of his foster dads. “I didn’t really…ask? But I think one of them said something about salmon once.”

“Once,” she repeated in disbelief. Fixing her face, she popped her head around the corner into the living room. “Does fajita salmon sound okay? No allergies?” Frank heard them agree, and finished chopping the last pepper as she turned back to him. “You’re a nightmare,” she mumbled. But there was a smile on her face, and a smile on his. That was Abby magic.

When the fish was in the oven and the rice and beans were simmering, Frank looked over at her. “What do we do now, boss?”

“Now we mingle.”

When they joined Robby and Jack in the living room, Frank noticed with a pang of worry that Trinity had retreated to their bedroom. But Abby was sunshine incarnate, and easily carried the conversation with Jack and Robby as dinner cooked. They stayed on safe topics, talking school, and sports, and cooking, which Jack actually knew a lot about. Huh.

“So how did you two meet?” Robby asked.

Frank tensed. It was less of a meet-cute and more of a…meet-pathetic. Abby hesitated too, looking at him. He sighed. “When I came back to school, I was still using crutches, and I tripped and tried to catch myself, and ended up taking down an entire bookshelf.”

“It was just a little one,” she corrected kindly. “Very top-heavy. Not well-balanced at all.”

“Abby has a free period working in the library. She, uh…helped me get to the nurse’s office, and set the shelves up again.”

“He sprained his ankle, so he was in a wheelchair for a few weeks and I volunteered to help him get around.” Abby ran her hand through Frank’s hair affectionately, fixing his bangs.

“Sounds familiar,” Robby said, looking knowingly at Jack.

Jack rolled his eyes. “I got wheeled into the ED because I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk when I was running one day.”

“You hit on your patient?” Abby gasped dramatically. She glanced at Frank, and if he didn’t know her better, he would have missed the nervousness in the motion.

“He hit on me first,” Robby corrected.

The timer went off, and Abby ran to remove the salmon. “Everything going okay?” Jack asked.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“I was going to check on Trinity before dinner, unless you want to?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, I should go.” He scrambled to his feet, leaning on the arm of the chair for a second to let his back adjust, then went to find Trin.

She was in their room, swallowed by the bean bag chair as she scrolled on her phone. The sun was setting, so the room was in shadows, and she squinted when he turned the light on. “You good?” he asked. She just stared at him with fire in her eyes. “Okay, you’re not good. That’s fine. But can you come down for dinner please? For Abby? I just want things to go well tonight.”

“Why do you hate mom so much?”

He closed his eyes, trying not to be frustrated. He had just gotten the anxiety about his mom under control, and he didn’t need this. He didn’t need this. He tasted bitterness on his tongue. “Is the part where she put me in the hospital not enough? Or do you want to talk about when I was in the hospital, because of her, and you had to go live with the Cunninghams by yourself, and—”

“That wasn’t mom’s fault.”

Frank huffed in frustration. “I’m not arguing about this right now. Are you going to come downstairs or what?”

“Fine.”

They thundered downstairs as Abby was bringing the salmon to the table. “Perfect timing!” she smiled.

Jack followed behind her, bringing the rice and beans. “Abby, thank you so much for cooking, this smells delicious.” Abby glowed.

Frank pulled out her chair for her, then slid in next to her, across from Jack and Trinity. His sister was still glaring at him, even as Abby cut and served the salmon. “So, Frank told me you guys have another son? What’s he like?”

“John,” Robby said fondly. “He’s 18, just started school at Michigan. Super smart.”

“So you’re used to teenagers? Frank’s not too much of a headache?”

Jack turned to look at Frank. He had a way of staring at you that made you feel like he was looking deep into your soul. “We must be lucky,” he said casually, eyes lingering. “They keep sending us the really good kids.” Frank felt a lump in his throat, knowing what he was hiding.

He met Trinity’s eyes across the table before she quickly looked back down at her dinner, and his brow furrowed when he noticed what she was doing. Shuffling the food around, taking tiny bites. He sucked in a breath, his own body reacting to her distress. Don’t puke, he tried to say telepathically. Keep it down. You got this, Trin, please. He glanced around the table, and no one else had noticed, but now he couldn’t look away. Abby elbowed him, pulling him out of his spiral. “I was telling them about the paper for bio and they asked what you were writing about.”

“Oh. Uh. It’s stupid.” The scrape of Trin’s knife against the plate was like nails on a chalkboard. “Something with Covid biomarkers. I haven’t really gotten too far into it.”

Robby nodded. “Sounds important.”

“I guess.”

Abby nudged Trinity with her foot under the table. “Hey, you. Any big school projects?”

“Oh, uh, not really.”

And Frank winced as Abby clocked Trinity’s still-full plate. “Does it taste okay? Do you not like salmon?”

“Oh, no, it’s really good.” She took a big bite, but now everyone was watching.

“You don’t have to do that, Trin.” Frank said carefully.

Abby seemed to notice something was off, and was instantly contrite. “Right, no, of course, don’t eat it if you don’t want to.”

Trinity stabbed a pepper with her fork and chewed furiously. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” But the dinner had ground to a halt, Jack and Robby exchanging nervous glances as Frank focused all of his energy on his sister, willing her not to ruin the night. Don’t puke don’t puke don’t puke.

“So, do you guys travel a lot?” Abby asked, her voice high and nervous.

Robby turned his attention back to her, telling her about their trip to the Grand Canyon the year before. He droned on about the hiking, the sunsets, the scenery…Frank thought that maybe they had made it through the episode safely, and tried to release the tension in his shoulders as Abby and Robby spoke. But a few minutes later, Trinity’s chair scraped against the floor, her hands squeezing the edge of the table like a lifeline. Her voice was tiny and embarrassed. “Can I be excused?” Frank’s heart fell.

“Of course,” Jack said softly.

She sprinted upstairs, and Frank shoved his chair back to follow her, but Robby was already up and set a hand on his shoulder. “Let us.”  Jack got up too and followed Robby and Trinity, and Frank buried his forehead in his hands. Why did he think that dinner tonight was a good idea? He had always kept Abby separate from the shittier parts of being a foster kid, because she was…she was perfect. She was good.

Abby looked after them worriedly, “Babe, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…she has an anxiety thing. Or a feelings thing, I don’t know. It’s not your cooking, you were great, she just gets sick sometimes.” His chest was tight, the weight of the day compressing his ribs as he struggled to explain. “All of this shit with our mom…I’m so sorry, Abs, I know you wanted everything to be perfect. We’re just…not built for that. Too screwed up. I’m sorry dinner went to shit.”

“Frank,” she said affectionately. “Shut up.”

He leaned into her shoulder, and a few stubborn tears fell as she pulled him into her side, adjusting so the top of his head was nestled into her neck. “It’s okay,” Abby murmured. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” He let the tears drip down his cheeks and focused on the sound of her breathing, and her solid presence against his side. She was rubbing his back, her slow and steady hand the only thing that could stop his stormy thoughts. She let him zone out, and he felt safe.

He didn’t realize Jack had joined them again until Abby’s soft voice brought him back. “I don’t know, he stopped answering,” she was saying, a response to someone or something outside of their embrace.

Frank watched as Jack’s hazy outline pushed the entire table away to crouch in front of him. “You with us, kid?”

“Oh…Oh god,” Frank whimpered, realizing the state he was in. “Abby, I…”

“It’s okay,” she repeated, but he could see uncertainty in her eyes.

“No, I’m sorry, this has all gone to shit.” He wiped his nose and jerked upright, stepping away from them both. “I, uh, I need to go help Trin. Abby, you should…you should probably go.”

“Frank—” Jack protested half-heartedly.

“Abby, just go. Please.” He was flooded with embarrassment, and a red-hot anger at his mom for ruining…well, everything. His pulse was fluttering, and he had to inhale twice as hard to get a full breath.

 Jack showed Abby to the door, pressing the bouquet of flowers into her hands as she left, and now he was hovering a couple feet away. “Frank? Talk to me.”

In his jumbled mind, Frank couldn’t find any words. He turned away, facing the wall, and trying to settle himself. He couldn’t…he couldn’t let himself go like this. He had gotten lulled into a false sense of whatever and it had felt too good, too easy, but life wasn’t like that, not for him. Not for Trin. We’re just not built for that, he had told Abby. And it was fucking true. “Need to check on Trin.”

“I was going to bring her some water. Take a second, you looked kind of out of it.”

Frank pushed past Jack into the kitchen to pour a glass of water, then beelined upstairs. Trin was sitting on the bathroom tile looking flushed and queasy, and Robby was leaning in the doorway. “Leave,” Frank muttered.

“He was helping,” Trin protested weakly.

Frank shut the door in Robby’s face and handed her the glass of water. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think it’s done.”

He sat down next to her on the floor, shifting to get comfortable. His own panic was still hot and uncomfortable in his chest, but he could tamp it down for her. “I’ll be here.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, of course not. These things happen.”

“It’s just…I ruined your awards thing, and now Abby’s dinner…I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“It’s okay.”

“I just—” she tensed, and lurched over the toilet. Nothing came up but bile. She spit and exhaled unevenly, and Frank handed her the glass of water again. “I’m really sorry,” she sniffled.

“It’s okay,” he repeated automatically. He sat for a second, still trying to claw his own way back from the edge. “So…Robby was helping?”

“I think so. Just what he told me in the restaurant, about tensing my arms and legs. Kind of distracts me.”

“Do you…do you want Robby back?” Instead of me, he didn’t add. Trinity looked up with watery eyes, and she hesitated, but shook her head. “Okay. I’m here.” He flushed for her and leaned back against the wall. Trinity slumped against him, exhausted. “Is this about Mom?” he asked quietly.

“I dunno. It just happens.” She inhaled quickly and moved towards the toilet again.

“Oh, uh—do the thing—tense your arms?” She squeezed her elbows into her side, and clenched her hands into fists, breathing sharply. Frank’s hands hovered, unsure how to help, until she relaxed again. “I don’t want to go either. She just makes me feel shitty, whenever I see her, or think about seeing her, or think about you seeing her. But…it would be good to stay here. Right?”

“Yeah. This place is nice. They’re nice.”

Frank let his head fall back against the wall as they sat in silence. He felt a little like a slug, stupid and slow and worthless. It was too familiar, because that’s how his mom always made him feel. He thought back to the last time he had seen her, about a month into his recovery after the accident. She had convinced a judge to let her go to the hospital to see him. He had just had a second surgery and was waiting for his legs to heal before he could even start walking again, and she had just…waltzed in. A smile and a “poor baby”, a few affectionate pats, and then with a crack about how nice it was to get away from ‘that awful place’, Frank knew in his gut that she was just using him for a field trip.

He couldn’t stop crying afterward, although he told the nurses it was because he was in pain. They gave him enough painkillers to deaden everything, inside and out.

Frank looked down at Trinity, bent bonelessly against his lanky frame. It seemed like the worst of the nausea had passed. “Hey. How ya’ feelin’?”

“A little better, I guess.”

“Wanna get up?”

“Yeah.”

Frank heaved himself to his feet, and held out a hand to tug Trinity upright as well. He opened the bathroom door, and saw Jack and Robby, sitting on the floor against the far wall. They had stayed. Waited. For almost—Frank checked his phone—almost an hour.

“I’m sorry for ruining dinner,” Trinity said hollowly.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Robby said. “Best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

Frank bumped her shoulder with his own, reassuringly.

Jack and Robby were looking her up and down, clinically assessing. “You want to try to eat anything else tonight?” Jack asked. Trinity shook her head.

Frank plugged his phone in on the nightstand. “We’re just going to get our PJs on and rot on our phones for a while before bed, I think.”

Robby nodded. “Okay. Let us know if anything changes. Trinity…can we talk more about this later? The vomiting, it can be a symptom, but it can also cause damage if it’s happening too frequently. Doesn’t have to be tonight, but it’s a conversation we want to have soon.” If anything, her face went even more pale. “You’re not in trouble.”

“Okay,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Alright,” Jack said, working his way to his feet. “Good night, you two.”

Robby looked like he wanted to say more, but he followed Jack out the door. “Sleep tight.”

Trinity grabbed her PJs from the top bunk and went back into the bathroom to change, and Frank grabbed his t-shirt from the plastic bin (he still hadn’t unpacked, which was something to think about another time). The Tylenol bottle rattling around in the bottom of his backpack reminded him that it was time to take another dose, but the bottle was empty, so he found the little baggie from Terrance and fished out his oxy. As he was reaching for his water bottle, Trin came out of the bathroom. Frank pushed the baggie back into his backpack quickly, but she had obviously seen.

“What was that?”

“Tylenol,” he lied, taking the pill with a long swig of water before she could see it.

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t fucking swear.”

“Tylenol doesn’t come out of baggies.” Whatever energy the nauseous spell had sapped from her had returned with a force, and she was back to her feisty self.

“It does when I put it in baggies so that it doesn’t jangle around in my backpack.” He didn’t lie to her frequently, so he wasn’t sure how good he was at it, but she also didn’t have any reason not to trust him. He knew he was playing on that trust, and felt like shit for doing it. He looked her in the eye. “My back hurts.” And that was pretty manipulative too, because he rarely admitted to her that he was in pain. 

She stared at him for a second, frowning, then climbed the ladder into the top bunk. “Whatever.”

Frank laid down in bed, waiting for the pill to kick in, but he felt weird. He shifted experimentally, and stilled. His back…wasn’t hurting. It had been almost eight hours since his last oxy, and his back didn’t hurt. He had taken the pill to settle his brain. Frank felt sick. If he wasn’t taking the oxy for pain anymore, then…what was he?

As he tried to fall asleep, his stream of consciousness was more like a pinball of consciousness—the upcoming visit with his mom, Trinity’s persistent vomiting that apparently was a medical concern now, the brush-off he had given Abby earlier (she hadn’t texted since), and…this habit of his that was starting to feel a little out of control.

At some point, Frank found himself mostly asleep, in the realm of lucid dreams. He was riding in a familiar Toyota Corolla that was older than he was. His mom was driving, checking over her shoulder as they drove, and Frank began to check over his shoulder too, trying to find what she was looking for. “Mom? Are we going the right direction? For the dentist?”

She mumbled something unintelligible, and Frank saw familiar street signs fly by. “I think we should turn around,” he suggested causally. “We’re going to be late.” She hummed, and Frank’s stomach dropped as her foot edged the gas pedal down. The traffic light in front of him was red, and his eyes grew wider as they approached. A pickup-truck saw them seconds before entering the intersection and slammed on its brakes, the high-pitched squealing all Frank could think about as he forced his eyes closed in preparation for the collision. But they blew through it, getting on the highway on-ramp to a chorus of blaring horns. “Stop! Mom, stop!” Frank cried. He wanted to take the wheel from her, pull her out of her seat so he could stop the car, but his seatbelt was stuck. He tugged at it, desperate to escape as the accelerometer eased up past 70…80…90. “Please,” he begged, almost a scream.

He wasn’t sure how she was cognizant enough to weave in between cars, but not to hear his voice. He wondered if he was making any noise at all. “Mom!” And the second his fingers found purchase on the seatbelt, the car lurched and began to spin. Someone must have hit the back bumper, sending the car reeling like a teacup on a carnival ride. Time slowed down, and Frank stared dazedly at his mom, counting down the seconds until the inevitable crash. 5…4…3…2…

Frank woke up with his chest heaving, his back on fire and the nightmare still fresh in his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it meant—he was heading for trouble.

Chapter Text

Robby

Jack was arguing with Gloria again as Robby unloaded the breakfast dishes from the dishwasher. She was refusing to give them Frank’s medical records until a judge signed off, which…knowing the foster care system, was going to take at least a month. Robby was going to break a plate if he heard Jack’s disappointed sigh even one more time. “Fine. You’re talking to counsel? Need me to call them and explain? Fine…Fine.” Jack thunked his forehead against a cabinet. “Bye.”

Robby put away the last glass. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said coldly. “Could be the mom, refusing to give consent to release the records. Gloria can’t do anything unless it’s emergent, or we get a court order. She’s talking to the kids’ attorney.”

“Jesus fuck.” The plate in his hands was looking a little too whole. “That woman…their mother…” He didn’t need to say the unspeakable things out loud for Jack to understand what was going through his head.

“Compassion, Mike,” Jack reminded him gently. “You don’t know what she’s been through.”

No, he didn’t. But he knew what Frank and Trin were going through. He knew what his own mother had put him through, how it felt to be jerked around by someone who was supposed to act in your best interests. “We need to do something fun this weekend,” Robby said. “Go to another Pirates game, or the zoo or something. Get their minds off their mom.”

“I vote baseball game.”

“I figured.” Robby kissed Jack on the cheek, and felt himself calm again. He nosed at the hollow of Jack’s neck experimentally. “Do you want to get my mind off of their mom too?”

Jack wound his hand into his husband’s hair. “That’s one of the worst pick up lines you’ve ever used.” Robby snaked his hands under Jack’s shirt, settling them on his hips and pulling him close. He kissed Jack again, savoring the slight taste of maple on his breath, left over from breakfast. His hand found the tip of the scar on Jack’s hip, and he traced it lightly, following it below the waistband of Jack’s jeans.

“Michael,” Jack said breathlessly.

“Mhmph?” His mouth was a little busy.

“Mikey. Your phone is ringing.”

Robby rolled his eyes, but managed to let go of the hold he had on Jack and reach for his phone. Seeing the caller, he frowned and showed it to Jack. “It’s the middle school.” He answered. “Hello, this is Dr. Robinavitch.”

“Dr. Robinavitch, this is Principal O’Kane. Are you Trinity Santos’ guardian?”

“I am.”

“Can you come down to the school to pick Trinity up? There’s been an incident that we’d like to talk with you about.”

“Is she okay?” His question made Jack looked up in alarm.

“The nurse checked her over and is satisfied that she’s okay. We think she was involved in a fight, but neither of the girls involved are talking.”

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Robby said, gesturing for Jack to grab the keys. “Thanks, Principal O’Kane.” He hung up and had to take a deep breath before he could tell Jack. “She got in a fight.”

“A fight? Trinity?”

Robby shrugged, equally mystified. “He said the nurse checked her out, which makes me think that someone else landed some hits on her too.” He saw Jack’s jaw tighten. “What are you thinking?”

“We hear her out before we have any discussions.”

“Agreed.”

“So much for the Pirates game.”

Robby grimaced. “…agreed.”

They lived pretty close to the middle school, so it wasn’t a long drive, but they had a solid ten minutes to ruminate on all of the worst-case scenarios before they pulled into a visitor’s spot and practically sprinted into the school. Trinity was sitting on a bench outside the office, her arms were crossed stubbornly over her chest, and a truly impressive bruise was already forming under her left eye. She refused to look up and meet Robby’s eyes. “Does it hurt?” he asked. She didn’t say a word, but on closer inspection Robby noticed that she was shaking. It was barely more than a shiver, but her fingers were wrapped tightly around her arms in a white-knuckled grip. “Jack, why don’t you go in?” Robby suggested lightly, not taking his eyes off his foster daughter. “I’m just going to sit here with Trinity.”

Her jaw was set, not unlike Jack’s when he was frustrated, and Robby knelt so he could duck down and find her eyes, gently coaxing them up. “Hey. What happened?” She met his gaze for a millisecond, then looked away again, lips pressed into a thin line but wobbling nonetheless.

Robby noticed another girl sitting next to the reception desk down the hall, holding an ice pack to the back of her head, and he could have gone to check on her, but…the nurse would have checked her out, right? He could be selfish this one time and stay with Trinity. “Do you want an ice pack? I can go get one from the nurse.” She shook her head, but Robby could practically see it swelling in real time. He glanced at the nurses’ office down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

The nurse, Cheryl, was an institution in her own right. Robby had met her six or seven years ago, when John was in middle school, and had dubiously formed an alliance with her, as needed to care for any child with extra needs. She smiled kindly when she saw Robby. “I was wondering if you’d stop by,” she said warmly. “Saw your name on Trinity’s forms. Good to see you again. Of course, not under the circumstances.”

“Hi Cheryl. You check her out?”

Her smile drooped. “I tried, but she didn’t want to be touched. I figured since you and Jack were coming, she might be more comfortable with you doing an exam. I cleaned her up and sent her to O’Kane.”

“You got an ice pack?”

“I offered her one and she didn’t want it.”

Robby cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, and she handed an ice pack over with a sigh. “Good luck with this one, Robby. She’s a spitfire.”

“That she is. Thanks, Cheryl.”

Robby headed back to Trinity and offered her the ice pack, but she shook her head. “Fine,” he said, slipping it into his pocket. “I’ll save it for later when you can stop pretending to be tough.” And he swore he saw the ghost of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

Jack stepped out of the office, looking grim. “Can you two come in here, please?” They filed in behind him.

O’Kane stood to shake Robby’s hand, then gestured for them all to sit. “Since neither Trinity nor Kelly is talking about the incident, and Mrs. Phelps found them both tussling on the ground, both students will be receiving equal suspensions. Monday out-of-school, Tuesday in-school. You’ll be expected to complete all of the assigned work and homework while you are suspended, and you’ll be meeting with our school counselor when you return. Any questions?” Trinity shook her head dully.  “I’m very disappointed in you, young lady. Despite your circumstances, you’ve always been a good student. I expected better from you.”

Robby bristled when he saw Trinity wilt at the man’s words. “Anything else?” he said coldly.

“That’s all. You can gather her things and take her home. We’ll see her back here on Tuesday.”

They walked out of the school with Trinity’s backpack slung over Robby’s shoulder, but Robby stopped Trinity before she got in the car. “You need to let me take a look at your eye,” he said bluntly. “This isn’t a yes or no question, I’m concerned about the swelling.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“How bad does it hurt, scale of 1-10?”

“…five?”

“Any headache?”

“A little.”

Robby wished he had his penlight, but of course Jack was carrying one, and handed it over. Robby checked her pupils, and peeked up her nose, before handing it back so he could palpate her cheekbone. Trinity hissed when he touched a tender sport, and Robby murmured an apology when he pressed deeper around it, feeling for the integrity of the bone. “So, we need to get an x-ray,” he concluded. “I’m sorry, but it could be broken.”

Jack’s hand twitched like he wanted to confirm the diagnosis himself, but Robby had already cracked the ice pack and handed it to Trinity. “Not optional.” She nodded meekly. He opened the door for her and slung her backpack in, then gave Jack a steadying hand as he climbed in. The drive to the hospital was quiet, Robby and Jack taking turns checking the rearview to make sure she still had the ice pack over her eye. She really was a tough kid, Robby hadn’t seen any actual tears, but she winced at every bump in the road.

Jack had texted Dana, telling her they were coming in, and then Gloria, who agreed to meet them at PTMC in an hour. Jack looked in the rearview again. “Do you want us to text Frank?”

“Um…can we just wait? Until he gets home tonight? I don’t want him to…he’s gonna be mad.”

“Why’s that?”

She clammed up again, staring resolutely out the window with her good eye. “Are you guys mad?” She asked quietly.

“No,” Robby said truthfully. “I’m mostly worried, and a little confused.”

“We still don’t know what happened,” Jack added.

Trinity was squishing the ice pack in her hands. The bruise was reddening, revealing itself all the way up in her eyebrow, and through her cheekbone. It was bigger than a 12-year-old girl’s fist, that was for sure. She had been hit with something, and it made Robby’s gut churn.

They parked in the staff garage and walked in through the waiting room, Robby and Jack flanking her as they shuffled through the chairs and got buzzed in by Lupe at the desk. Dana was leaning against the nurses’ station, a smile on her face. “How’s it going, slugger?” Trinity ducked her head shyly.

“Dana,” Robby cautioned.

“Right then, central 12. I’ll grab Mohan.”

“This way,” he murmured. He helped her up on the gurney and hovered close to her as Samira came in and began taking vitals, then started the exam.

“A little pressure here,” Samira said, glancing at Robby. He had taught Samira how to do these, and it was weird to hear his own script repeated back to him. “Tell me when it’s sore.” She prodded along the cheekbone until she hit the bruise, and Trin flinched.

Robby reached out reflexively, his hand hovering millimeters from Trinity’s shoulder. She glanced over at him. “Um…you can do that, if you want to. It’s okay.” He settled his hand on her shoulder, thumb making smooth, comforting strokes. On her other side, Jack immediately grabbed her hand in his, his eyes shooting fireworks as they met Robby’s above her head. Allowing them to touch her was a big step for Trinity, considering what they knew about her history.

Samira was making notes in the chart. “Do you have a headache?” Trinity nodded. Samira prodded some more, this time around Trinity’s eye. “Can I ask what you got hit with?”

Trinity glanced up at Jack and Robby worriedly. “Um, just, you know, a hand.”

Samira’s eyes flicked up, but her expression stayed neutral. “It’s quite a big bruise…for a hand.”

“We’re only asking so we know how deep the damage could be,” Jack said calmly.

She fidgeted. “It was…well, it was her backpack. But I think she has a fucking Hydroflask or something. It like…clanged.” Robby squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to control his anger. Who decided to give middle-schoolers water bottles that doubled as a tire iron in a fight?

Thank god for Samira, who could stay professional. “Did you lose consciousness at all?” She had her penlight out, checking Trinity’s pupils and nose just like Robby had done in the parking lot. “Equal and reactive,” she reported. “No septal hematoma. CT just to be safe? And 800 ibuprofen?” Robby nodded. “I’ll get the orders in. Be right back, Trinity.”

Jack scooted around so he could sit. “How’s it feeling?”

“Um…it hurts. Like, throbbing. Hurts to move.”

Robby rubbed her shoulder again. “We can get you some pain meds and another ice pack. After the CT we’ll know if it’s broken.” He paused. “A metal water bottle?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed. “I saw the other girl. Kelly? She had an ice pack on the back of her head, but I didn’t see any blood. What did you…How…?”

Trinity swallowed. “I just pulled her stupid ponytail. Uh, hard. She kind of fell down, but I think she was just being dramatic.”

Robby was feeling a bit relieved that Trinity hadn’t thrown a punch. “Are you ready to tell us why?”

“Can I…not?”

He deflated a little bit, letting his hand drop to the bed and scooting around in front of her. “Jack and I, we’re team Trinity. We want to be on your side, but we can’t help you until we know the full story. I’d like to believe you didn’t go pulling someone’s hair for no reason, but that seems like what’s happening here.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe she was just being an asshole and deserved it.”

“So, she was being mean to you?” Jack asked, his eyes flicking to Robby over her head. Trinity crossed her arms, going mute once again. Jack had probably gotten a little too close to the truth.

Samira returned with the meds, another ice pack, and a gown. “Can you two step outside with me while she changes?”

“I have to wear that?”

“For the CT,” Samira responded smoothly. “We’ll be right back.”

They stepped outside the cubicle, and Samira fidgeted with the tablet. “I don’t know how to bring this up…and I’m sure you guys are aware, I don’t want you to think that I thought that you didn’t see it…”

“Spit it out, Mohan,” Jack said.

“She’s underweight. Could be a risk factor for low bone density, especially in a pre-pubescent female.”

“We’ve only had her for a few weeks, we’re working on it,” Robby said sharply.

“Okay. You know I had to at least bring it up.”

Jack nodded. “We know. Thank you.”

When she walked away, Robby growled. “Low bone density?”

“I know, it’s not good.”

“So it’s probably fractured. Fuck, I didn’t even think about that. I mean, we knew she was underweight, but I assumed it was recent stress. But if it has been happening for years…we have to keep an eye out for other side-effects.”

“And what would you have done? Told her not to get into fights?”

“Vitamin D. Calcium. Caloric intake. We could have been talking to a nutritionist, or talking to her therapist about more sessions, or an SSRI, so the vomiting is more under control.”

“You said it yourself, Mike, they’ve only been with us for a few weeks. Hell, Trinity didn’t even want us to touch her until today.”

Robby smiled, temporarily pulled back from his dark place. “That was something, wasn’t it?”

Jack’s smile quirked at the corners as well. “Hell of a feeling.”

Samira returned, and knocked on the door. “Trinity, you decent?”

“Yeah!”

The trio stepped inside the room again. Trinity looked very small in her hospital gown, but Robby and Jack flanked her again on either side of the gurney. “Did these two explain what a CT is?” Samira asked. Robby had never been so glad his resident slowed down to listen to her patients, because he had totally forgotten, and Trinity would be loath to ask for help. Trinity shook her head.

“Okay, so it’s a machine that takes pictures of your body. It’s like a big donut, and your head goes in the middle of it. You had to change clothes because there can’t be any metal in the machine, or the pictures won’t turn out right. It’s kind of noisy, but not loud. The whole thing takes like ten minutes, and then it will be a little while longer before we can read the results. Sound good?” Trinity looked puzzled. “Questions?”

“Are you the one that gave me your Labubu?”

Jack snorted with laughter, but Samira took it in stride. “Yup. Dr. Robby can be very persuasive.”

They got Trinity in a wheelchair and walked her up to CT, waiting outside the room for her scans. “Going to give Mohan a 100% satisfaction rating,” Robby said gruffly, interrupting their tense silence.

Jack grimaced. “You gonna stop riding her so hard?”

“I can admit when I’m wrong.” There was half a beat of silence. “But she still needs to pick up the volume of patients she sees. I’ve seen her make the split-second diagnoses in trauma cases, so I know she can do it, she just needs to apply that ability in her day-to-day.”

“She’s an R3, she has time to figure it out.”

“I never said she didn’t.”

After a beat of silence, Robby spoke again. “A metal water bottle. What the fuck?” He couldn’t get the image out of his head.

“I know.”

“She’s lucky the damage isn’t worse.”

“I know.” There was an edge to Jack’s voice, making Robby look at him curiously.

“You okay?”

Jack exhaled in a huff. “Just don’t like seeing her hurt. Feelin’ a little protective.”

The CT suite door opened and Trinity shuffled out in her tennis shoes and hospital gown. “They said you could take me back to the ED.”

“Hop in!” Robby wheeled the chair over and sat down, Jack spreading a blanket across her lap. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Trinity shook her head. “How’s the pain?”

“It’s a little better. Still throbbing, though.”

Jack checked his phone. “Gloria’s downstairs.”

Trinity’s feet hit the floor, skidding the wheelchair to a stop. “You called her?”

“You were injured; she needed to know.”

“She’s going to try to take us away.”

“She’s not. She’s here to take a report, make sure you’re alive, and she’ll probably be gone in fifteen minutes. Then we can go home, together.” Jack sounded more confident than Robby felt. He didn’t think Gloria would take the kids away from them, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been niggling in the back of his mind since they got the call.

Sometimes he caught himself daydreaming about the future—the kids’ graduations, sharing a beer with Frank at a Pirates game, walking Trinity down the aisle—and he’d have to force himself back down to earth. Reunification. Or even if reunification didn’t happen…until he and Jack officially adopted them, there was always a chance they’d be whisked away.

Robby rested his hand on Trinity’s shoulder to ground himself in the present again. Her shoulder felt tiny, and he resolved himself to fight for her harder than he’d fought for anything in his life. Darn kids. He had a soft spot for ‘em.

He saw Gloria across the Pitt talking to Dana, and it gave Jack and Robby the chance to sneak Trinity into her room so one of them could talk to Gloria alone first. Jack stayed with Trinity, leaving Robby with a quiet warning to keep his temper. Taking a deep breath, Robby approached her. “Gloria, how are you today?”

“What happened with Trinity?”

He winced—Gloria skipping pleasantries meant she was either busy or pissed. “She got in a fight at school, we don’t know why. She pulled a student’s hair, and that student hit Trin with her backpack, we think there was a metal water bottle involved. She’s got a headache and probably a facial fracture, we’ll know soon.” Gloria was taking notes, her face impassive, and Robby wondered if it was the right time to bring up their mom. “Trinity was…distressed. After our call yesterday about the parental visitation.”

“I tried, Robby, I really did. The court’s not budging, and the mother is insistent. Besides, that’s not the issue today.”

“I’m just saying…she’s emotionally spent. Doesn’t leave a lot for self-control. Now she’s afraid that you’re going to take them away from us.”

Gloria softened, and Robby wondered if she could tell he was worried about that too. “There’s no reason for that right now. I need to talk to her doctor, and then I’ll talk to Trinity one-on-one, but I trust you two to take care of her.”

Robby waved Samira over. “This is Dr. Mohan, she’s Trinity’s doctor. This is Gloria, Trinity’s case manager. She just needs an update on injuries and treatment.”

“Right, nice to meet you. We just got the CT results back.” Samira handed her tablet to Robby, who took it greedily to look at the images. Dismayed, he traced a thin line through the bone with his finger. “She has a fractured cheek bone, but it’s non-displaced, so treatment is just ice, rest, and NSAIDs. Robby’s overqualified to provide that and monitor her, so I have no issue discharging. Except…” Samira’s worried eyes checked with Robby, and he nodded. “Trinity is underweight for her height and age. Borderline malnourished. I understand Robby and Jack are aware of the issues and are working on it, but it’s something that should be monitored.”

Robby tried to keep his tone even. “You know she has issues with anxiety?” Gloria nodded. “When she gets anxious, she can’t keep food down. There have been two incidents where the vomiting happened as she’s eating, so I don’t think it’s a physical issue. And those are just the ones we know about. We can help up her caloric intake and vitamins, but I think we should also try to start more intensive therapy.” He was trying to sound as professional as he could. “I imagine there have also been issues with previous homes, whether it’s anxiety, or food restriction.”

Samira picked it back up. “Low body weight can also be associated with lower bone density. It could be the reason that the water bottle broke her cheekbone, instead of just bruising it.”

Gloria stared at Robby. “And you have this under control?”

He hesitated. “We will. We’ve been figuring out the best way to approach it, but we’re going to address it. We can schedule an appointment with the kids’ GP in a month to check progress.”

“Get one scheduled ASAP, and then a follow up, just to be safe. I’d like to talk to Trinity now.”

“This way,” he murmured. Samira followed them.

The door was open, and Trinity was back in her regular clothes, chatting with Jack. When she saw Gloria, her shoulders tightened with worry. Samira stepped close first, and showed Trinity the CT on the tablet. “See this crack, right here? That’s a fracture in your cheekbone. It’s going to heal on its own in about a month, and you can take Tylenol or Ibuprofen for pain, and ice it for swelling. Any questions?” Trinity shook her head. “Then I officially declare you discharged. Take care, Trinity. Hope I don’t see you soon.”

“Thank you, Samira,” Robby called on her way out. She flashed him a genuinely happy smile. “Trinity, Jack and I are going to wait outside while you talk with Gloria, okay? Shout if you need us.”

They leaned against the workstation outside the room. Robby pulled up Trinity’s scans on a tablet again, staring at the fracture, and then putting on his glasses to make sure nothing was missed in the surrounding bones. Jack looked over his shoulder. “It’s a clean break, at least.”

“Mhm.”

“You think she’s getting bullied at school?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Robby closed the scans and flipped through some of his emails, but his effort was half-hearted at best. He put the tablet to sleep and sighed. Jack was tense beside him, staring intently (maybe scarily) at the privacy curtain and the closed door.

When it opened, they almost tripped over themselves in their haste to get into the room. Gloria stepped out and looked them up and down, then rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you all later.”

Trinity followed in her wake, looking exhausted. “Can we get out of here now?”

Robby sighed. “You read my mind.”