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It died a slow death of heartbreak and fear, their world upended by three words that changed their entire lives. Penny was bright, happy, and cheerful, constantly laughing and had been a mellow baby since her birth. Abby had gotten the NITP testing when she was pregnant, and it was only when they started noticing developmental delays with Penny that it occurred to them that something might be wrong.

Abby blamed herself, and then she blamed Frank, needing something to blame, unable to reconcile that it was the randomness of genetics and chance. Their marriage slowly died long before Frank's injury, before Hagan's over-prescribing and then stopping Frank's medication when he came under review from a previous patient's complaint, long before his addiction and the theft and ten long months of Frank actually being there.

Penny was three now, wearing bright pink glasses, and was just as perfect to Frank as she had been the moment he first held her, and Frank spent those ten long months working on himself, but also being there for his children, for Penny, who Abby had pulled back from after the diagnosis and never truly found her way back to her daughter. Frank knew Abby loved their daughter; there was never any doubt of that, but a part of Abby, filled with heartbreak and loss, grief and guilt put up a wall between them, afraid of connecting, too afraid of what she might lose.

Frank didn't tell anyone at the Pitt about Penny's diagnosis, not out of shame, but because of the strain of his marriage, the need to live up to Robby's impossible standards, and, more importantly, to do everything he could to protect his baby girl. He was part of parent forums and an online support group, and met twice monthly with a group of other parents of children with Down syndrome who had outings with the kids and play dates.

His divorce is finalised, and he and Abby learn to co-parent. She's out with Tanner having one-on-one time, and Frank has Penny for the day, and he cherishes every minute, the same as he does when he has his one-on-one day with Tanner, but today was a Playdate Day. They're at the park, all the kids dressed in blue and yellow, for Downs Syndrome Awareness month, enjoying the crisp october day, when Frank runs into Robby.

Robby who he hadn't really talked to since that last day they worked together, that July 4th when Robby when the conversation on the roof happened, when Frank nearly paralyzed a patient, and when he told Robby he needed help.

His stomach sinks and twists when he sees the recognition fill Robby's eyes that it was indeed Frank, and then when Robby stilled looking at the children playing, and back to Frank, awareness filling his whole face. Frank doesn't want to talk to him, doesn't want to hear how sorry Robby was, or that Penny can have a normal life, he doesn't want to hear how he could have come to Robby, he doesn't want Robby to reject his little girl the same way Robby rejected him.

He says nothing when Robby walks over and stands next to him, watching in silence as Penny plays, her light bown hair escaping the space buns Frank had expertly styled that morning, in little wisps.

"You were right." Robby's voice is hoarse and raw and Frank doesn't look away from one of his two true reasons to keep living. "I needed help."

"I'm glad you got it, man."

"...I'm still getting help."

"Good."

They stand there for Frank isn't sure how long, just slightly apart from the group, for once just being in each other's presence, with no expectations, with nothing but the simple need of missing each other's presence.

They spoil him with random trips to a museum, and bringing him snacks and checking in on him when he's proofreading one of his old undergraduate college buddies' thesis paper on some obscure historical thing that sends Frank into a nerd spiral for days.

The spoil Frank by loving Tanner and Penny just as much as they do Frank, just as much as Baran loves her child, encouraging their hobbies and interest, no matter what they may be.

Baran and Jack get a membership at the aquarium for a year, the expensive premium one, just so Tanner has a yearly pass and gets to go to the special kid events. The moment where Penny signs more when Baran says something in Farsi, and grunts, pouting with her chubby cheeks and dark brows drawn together, until Baran can figure out wha the baby wants, and starts speaking Farsi to all of them, but especially Penny, is a type of spoiling Baran and Jack are aware that Frank never recieved in his life.

They spoil Frank in all the ways that Frank never got as a child and with Abby, and it might not seem like spoiling to anyone else, just supporting Frank's interest, for being good parents and encouraging their children to grow and discover themselves, but it's spoiling to Frank.

Frank who got a trip to a museum once a year, and the back swing of his father's hand wanting him to be more normal, more of a man the rest of it, and then Abby's quiet judgments and need to be perfect when they were married.

It didn't take long to notice how sweet the alpha was, how warm he was, lost and sweet and soft, something to be protected and cherished as he was, spoiled rotten and and needing and wanting for nothing.

He doesn't know when he starts to treat Frank as an omega, with little touches to the back of his neck, shoulders, and arms, carefully bringing in lingering touches to Frank's hips or the small of his back, taking every opportunity to leave his scent on the older resident, drawn in by the heady, rich smell of vanilla, ozone, and the sweet smell of cured tobacco leaves, earthy and sweet with a tinge of spice.

The first time Dennis praises him, a small blush forms on Frank's cheeks and the younger alpha can't look away, captivated by how sweet Frank looked, hit with the sudden need to see how far Frank's blush would reach. Frank starts to gravitate to Dennis, and there's a dark, possessive swell of satisfaction that begins to burn in Dennis' chest. Day by day he grows bolder, scenting Frank outright, leaving his hand on Frank's waist a second too long. He doesn't care who notices, doesn't care about what people will say. Dennis never once tries to be discreet.

He was taught his entire life that if he wants something, he has to claim it, no one is just going to hand it too him, and Dennis wants Frank.

Needs Frank as he strokes his cock in the middle of the night, cumming hard, knotting his hand and coating his stomach and hand, imagining what his omega would sound like, would feel like, begging for Dennis, begging for more, begging for Dennis to fuck him full until he smells like nothing but the most primal of Dennis' scents. The fantasies progress into Frank begging to be mounted and bitched, crying as he begs Dennis to turn him into an omega, his omega, the old way, the natural way.

Frank, whose scent starts to sweeten, and his body starts to hold on weight with more ease, setteling around his waist, stomach and thighs and Dennis has to fight the urge to pin Frank to the nearest surface and claim what is his, clenching his jaw so hard it hurts.

His resolve burns to ash the moment he finds out Theo and Amy are in the Pitt, and sees Frank keeping Theo entertained while Amy gets checked out. He's never seen Frank look like that, radiate like that, his smile rivalling the sun, and everything about him glows while he holds Theo in his arms, talking to him in a low voice and subconsciously starting to scent the toddler and Dennis' godson.

Dennis has never wanted anything more, in his life.

Something feral and primal snaps with the force of a physical blow deep in Dennis's core, and Frank's scent is so thick with happiness and contentment when Dennis approaches them, smiling down at Theo, who looks up at Frank in wonder like he hung the sun, the moon and every star in the sky, and says "Look, there's alpha," without thinking, the decision is made, and it's painfully simple to do.

1: Robby/Frank/Shen

2: Jack/Frank/Baran

3: Jack/Frank/Shen

4: Robby/Frank/Jesse

5: Jack/Frank/Jesse

This shit sucks.

The plus side, my kids at work now think my inhaler gives me super powers to become a super sneaky ninja (snuck up on a co-teacher at work), and I sound really awesome when I have to answer a question using my nebuliser (I have to use the mask). Like a midwestern Darth Vader.

It’s enough to soften his body, his thighs get thicker, his stomach gets softer and his face rounds out just a little.

He still looks like Frank, it’s him still staring back at himself in the mirror but he doesn’t know how to feel about it when he sizes up in scrubs.

And the moment he sees him holding a baby, dead right then and there.

He hates the thought of loosing Dennis before Robby can make Dennis his, and goes into the Pitt fully prepared to be jealous over Dennis Whitaker, only to realise Jack has no interest in Dennis at all.

Jack, who is currently at war with Baran over Frank and which shift he works. Jack and Baran fighting over Frank like he's their favorite toy, the tall, handsome man, fucked up in such a way that while different to the both of them, were complimentary to their own issues. Frank who rarely smiled now and whe he did, it lit up the room.

Jack and Baran, who immediately form a united front when Robby gets back, are terrified that Robby will have gotten his head out of his ass enough to figure out some of what he feels for Frank and will try to take him back.

Jack and Baran, who touch Frank freely but with discretion, keep giving Robby little glares anytime he tries to talk to Frank about anything medical.