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- The Pitt (TV) (3)
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“He's gone.” Robby mutters.
“He is. You're not.” Frank turns to his backpack. The zip tears. He pulls out a coil of medical tubing. The red capped cannula clicks against the zipper as he gathers it.
Robby's breath catches. He lurches back. “Frank. Put it away. No.”Frank doesn't hold it for Robby to take. His fist is half-clenched, the tubing drapes between his fingers. He thumbs the cap.
“You trust me?”
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Frank Langdon had spent years navigating the cutthroat world of museum politics. When he had graduated, he’d begun to claw his way up from the bottom of the barrel at Carnegie Museum. He quickly realised that the buzzwords people espouse, dedication and hard work were platitudes for nobodies who would never climb up more than one or two rungs up the ladder.
It wasn’t about rolling up your sleeves and an honest day’s work. It was about knowing, and fucking over the right people.
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“Can you hear me?”
Robby feels a little desperate now, getting out of bed, imagining Langdon passed out in his own home.
Did he overdose? He was doing well. He had gone to rehab, came back, and seemed put together at work, according to Dana.
Robby wasn't exactly avoiding him, but he wasn't around him as much, giving him space, was that a mistake?
His near frantic thoughts skitter to a halt, everything stops when he hears a door swing open, and a gasp should have followed. His heartbeat stumbles.
“Frank?”
Silence.
Then, laughter. A woman's laughter, light and familiar.
“I've been waiting for you.”

