Work Text:
There is never a dull moment working at the Pitt.
1. Whitaker
After growing up on a farm, Whitaker has seen... many things. Mostly relating to cows. And pigs. And chickens. Well. Picture farm animals. He's seen it all. He fell into the pigpen when he was 12, still small enough to fit in the food trough. He smelled like unthinkable things for a week after. A cow literally shit on his head as a toddler, when he was watching his dad milk her. If he ever told that to Santos, he fears he would never live it down. Don't ever Google what a lash egg is. You don't want to know.
He's seen more than a few slaughtered cattle, blood still dripping from their necks in the meat shack. He thought all of this would prepare him for being a doctor, and he guesses it did. The blood never affected him too much, even after being sprayed with it twice on his first day of his ED rotation. The pee was definitely more of a shock than the blood.
He did his time-on the farm, in med school with cadavers. He was used to seeing things out of the ordinary.
He was not used to seeing two of his residents swapping spit on an exam bed in an empty trauma bay. Which is what he was seeing. Right now. When he pulls the curtain back and sees Dr. Langdon and Dr. King lying on their sides facing each other, kissing, he lets out a very unmanly scream-not unlike the one he made when he got peed on-and snaps the curtain shut again. He doesn't walk out, he just kind of. Hovers. Outside the curtain.
"Um," he coughs. "Dana told me to... come find you guys. There's a trauma coming in. ETA 4 minutes. Trauma One."
He hears the bed shifting on the other side of the curtain, then Dr. Langdon appears next to him, patting him on the shoulder and throwing a "Cool. Thanks, Whitaker," over his shoulder as he heads to the trauma room to gown up with Dr. King next to him, guiding her with a hand on her lower back.
Whitaker blinks. He feels like he just hallucinated the entire scene, but when he gets to Trauma One, Dr. Langdon's lips are puffy and pink, and Dr. King's hair is coming loose on one side, and they keep fucking smiling at each other over the patient.
So. Definitely real, then.
2. McKay
Cassie is a lover. She loves her son, she loves reading, she loves coffee and tequila and cinnamon rolls. She loves her job. She loves waking up everyday and having no idea what will happen, what she'll see. Every new patient is a person to meet, every new case is a mystery to solve. Even if it's something as small as the flu, or something as stupid as a bruised testicle from doing parkour and landing split legged. Every day is something new.
There are things she hates too, of course. Her ex-husband, for one. Republicans, slow walkers, Cheerios (don't ask why, she doesn't know).
She also hates walking into work at 6:57, after fighting all morning with Harrison that no, you cannot wear a Saw shirt to school, and immediately seeing her senior resident and his mentee making out on a gurney in the hallway (she does, actually, love both her senior resident and his mentee-she sponsors his sobriety, and they've actually become great friends because of it, but it's the principle of the thing).
"Jesus Christ, Langdon." she yells at him as she walks past them on the way to the lockers.
"What? There's still three minutes 'til the shift starts!" he calls back, and Cassie hears a muffled giggle from her fellow junior resident. If Cassie looked, she's sure she would find her face pressed into Langdon's chest. Cassie decides to disengage. Either no one else is paying them any mind, or no one else has seen them, and, honestly, she likes them together. They're good for each other. They go for (non alcoholic) drinks, the three of them, every few weeks and catch up.
Langdon is always so attentive to her, always getting her refills, and giving her his jackets, and twirling pieces of her hair while she sits tucked into his side. Cassie's never seen Langdon like this, not even with his actual (now ex) wife. He seems happy.
Cassie loves when her friends are happy.
3. Princess
Princess has worked at PTMC for over 10 years now. She feels like nothing can surprise her anymore. She's been there for snow storms, COVID, the Route 30 landslide (though only a few of those victims were brought to PTMC, it was on the opposite side of the city), PittFest. She's watched rats run loose in the ED, an ambulance get stolen, an intern get peed on.
She swore nothing could surprise her anymore. Then she walked up to the North nurses station and found sweetest woman ever born, Dr. Melissa King sitting on the counter, kissing resident PTMC asshole Dr. Langdon, her legs wrapped around his waist. Langdon's hands are on her back and her thighs and moving dangerously close to Dr. King's ass. Dr. King's hands are in Langdon's hair, causing mass destruction in their wake. She was surprised then. Not because she didn't think Langdon would abuse her workspace in this way, but because she thought Dr. King was way out of his league.
Princess slams her tablet down on the counter next to Dr. King's thighs. Langdon barely notices. Princess taps him on the shoulder, and he finally releases Dr. King. She calls him an asshole in Tagalog, he responds "Thank you, Princess," in kind.
She doesn't actually think Langdon is an asshole, especially after he's gotten clean. And she loves Dr. King. But someone has to keep the doctors in check around here. Sometimes she thinks Dana has gone soft on them. Langdon especially. And while Princess can admit (to no one but herself) that she doesn't think Langdon is an asshole, she will be keeping him on a short leash. Though, she's not entirely sure she needs to. Dr. King seems to have that handled just fine.
Perlah will be hearing about this, either way.
4. Santos
Trinity is having a bad fucking day. She's so behind on charting she doesn't think she'll ever get to go home. Maybe Whitaker had a good idea, living in the hospital. She'd save a lot of time if she just never left the premises. She's been trying to chart for 3 hours, and every time she starts to make any progress, she gets pulled onto another trauma, or another triage. She's exhausted and it's not even lunchtime yet. Not that she'll get a lunch, really. Because she's going to spend it fucking charting.
She's also already lost two patients today. Neither were her fault, obviously. She did everything she could. They all did.
She's walking back to her usual charting desk after a massive trauma-car accident, multiple fractures, internal bleeding, partial paralysis, coded twice, but somehow pulled through-when she sees Langdon standing by with Mel. As she gets closer, she sees they're standing... very close together. It takes another three steps for Trinity to realize what's happening. Langdon has Mel pushed up against the desk. With his tongue down her throat. On her fucking charting computer. Mel's ass is literally on the keyboard. Oh my god. This feels targeted. (It's not. Her and Langdon are actually kind of cool now. After her disastrous first day, and then Langdon's slightly less disastrous first day back, they've come to a truce. Langdon apologized for how he treated her that first day, and she could tell he genuinely meant it.)
Still, why her fucking desk (it's not her desk, it's just her favorite, the keyboard has better ASMR clickies). "What the fuck."
"Oh hey, Santos, what's up?" is how Langdon responds. Truce off. War on. Just kidding. Mostly.
"Why. On my fucking desk. I thought we were cool." She turns to Mel. "Mel, Melanoma. I thought we were, like, friends. Kinda."
"Really?" Mel's smile is so big, it kind of hurts to look at. Okay, maybe she needs to try to be her friend a little harder. Now she feels bad. Fuck.
"Just... Please give me my desk back. I'm already never going to finish this charting. I don't need your bodily fluids on my keyboard too."
"We're literally wearing scrubs." Langdon retorts. His hand is still resting on Mel's hip, thumb rubbing circles over the bone.
"Please leave!" Trinity snaps.
Langdon makes a face and throws an arm Mel's shoulders and leads her away, placing a kiss to her hair.
She kind of hates that they're so good together. She also really hates charting.
5. Dana
Every year, Dana swears, the Pitt gets crazier. People get stupider, more reckless, less empathetic. Avoidable accidents; street racing, subway surfing, e-scooters malfunctioning. Unnecessary price saving measures; not staffing enough nurses, shrinkflation, minimum wage never increasing. The older Dana gets, the more evil the world seems. It's a shitty outlook to have as a healthcare professional.
They're supposed to be the ones helping, that's what the job is about-helping. Except when there's more mass shootings than days in a year, the outlook becomes bleak. She still tries, she still treats people with the best of her abilities, she still tries to send positivity into the world. But she feels like she's lying most of the time. Sometimes all she can do it smoke a cigarette and let the nicotine in her lungs burn away the ugly parts of the world. At least for a little bit.
She walks out to the ambulance bay, fumbling with her pack of Camel's and BIC lighter. There's an ambulance sitting empty in the drive, waiting to be called, EMT's probably inside with the previous trauma arrival. It's somewhat peaceful out here. Certainly more-so than inside. The incessant beeping and cries of pain, they get to her sometimes. It's not quiet by any means out here either, but at least there's fresh air. And cigarettes. She can at least escape the beeping of machines into the honking of horns on the city streets, and... whatever that mumbling voice coming from the ambulance is.
Dana rounds the back of the ambulance and finds Mel sitting in the open door, feet planted on the bumper, Langdon in between her legs. Langdon's huge hands are cradling Mel's face, and he's kissing her deeply, mumbling words in Mel's ear, that Dana knows she doesn't want to hear.
"Oh, goddamnit, Langdon." Dana announces. It pulls a squeak out of Mel, and Langdon jolts in fear.
"Jesus, Dana, you scared us." Langdon answers. His hand slides down to the junction of Mel's neck and shoulder and rubs a soft trail back and forth.
"Well I wouldn't have to if you weren't screwing around in the back of an ambulance like teenagers. You're in your mid-30's for, Christ's sake." She sounds angry, but everyone knows she's not. Langdon is her favorite child. But she'd never admit it.
"You were making out in ambulances as a teenager?" Langdon retorts. Mel is hiding the smile on her face, the blush on her cheeks.
"Go back to work." She takes another hit of her cigarette, it's almost gone now, wasted on this entire scene. She'll light another one. She deserves another one.
Langdon gives Mel a hand and helps her hop down from the ambulance. They walk a few steps away from Dana, just out of ear shot, before stopping. Mel is the one that stops them, turns and faces Langdon, before curling into his arms. Langdon's arms wrap around her shoulders, enveloping Mel entirely. They stay like that for a few seconds, and Dana sees the contentment on both of their faces. Langdon pulls back just enough to look Mel in the eyes. The way he looks at her, and the way she looks at him in return, it feels bigger than them, bigger than Dana herself, bigger than this hospital and this city and this whole fucked up universe.
Langdon and Mel look at each other. Dana looks at them. Maybe there is still good in this world.
6. Donnie
Donnie has always considered himself a chill guy. Not in the haha-i'm-sooooo-chill-girl-u-up? way. And not in the i-use-bongs-as-interior-decor way either. He's just always been, y'know, pretty level headed.
He broke his arm in a bike accident when he was 10 and he doesn't even think he cried. Just walked his bike home and informed his mom very casually that he broke his arm. Apparently the break was pretty bad, he thinks his mom screamed when she saw it. He doesn't remember by now.
When he found out he was having a daughter, he can admit he was... not as chill. As much as he knows about caring for babies, it's a different ballpark when it's your own flesh and blood. But he did his research. He read every book, every Reddit thread, asked every day he knows what their advice would be. By the time his daughter arrived, he felt like a chill guy again. He knew all that he could know, and he'd figure out the rest as he goes. He loved his daughter more than anything, that was the important part. He was chill.
He was chill, until he walks into the waiting room at PTMC, expecting to find it overflowing with patients, as it always is, buzzing with irritation, as it always is. This is not what he finds.
He's not sure what shocks him more; the fact that the waiting room is completely empty-he has never once seen it empty-, or the fact that it's empty except for Dr. Melissa King straddling Dr. Langdon's lap as he sits in a waiting room chair, their mouths going at each other like they're starved. It can't even be comfortable. The chairs are small, the armrests restricting any comfort you could've found in them. And Langdon isn't exactly a small guy. He's 6'3 and pretty well-built, in Donnie's opinion. But if Langdon has any gripes about their position, he surely isn't showing it. He has his hands on Dr. King's waist, cupping her face, trailing up and down her arms.
"Langdon," he calls, walking towards them. "Langdon." He tries again, louder. He doesn't think Langdon has even come up for air. "Langdon!"
Langdon finally pulls back from Dr. King's mouth. "What?" he sounds exasperated, offended that Donnie would interrupt this very important task.
"Robby sent me out here to do chairs."
"It's empty." Langdon answers.
"Yes, I see that." Donnie loves Langdon, he really does. They've always had a good relationship, but after having his daughter they've really bonded over dad stuff."Please. Just-please, let me do my job."
Langdon nods, "yeah, sure, man." And then, because Langdon is nothing if not very extra, he stands while Dr. King is still sitting on his lap. Once standing, he readjusts, wraps her legs around his waist and walks back to the ER, literally carrying Dr. King in his arms. "Have fun taking care of all the patients, Donnie!" he calls back before the door shuts.
Then Donnie is alone in the empty waiting room, and finally getting some peace and quiet (very rare in the ED).
Donnie is a chill guy. Only chill guys would be chill about the scene he just witnessed. He's chill.
7. Javadi
On Victoria's first day at PTMC, she thought about quitting. She was in her third year of med school (at only 20 years old, mind you), but it was the longest day of her life and she didn't think she could do it again. The exhaustion was total, debilitating. She thought she wasn't cut out for this, not like her parents. She felt too scatterbrained, too inexperienced to make a difference. She went home and cried about it that night, terrified of another day in the Pitt, but too deep into her education to quit.
Then she showed up the next day. And the next, and the next. Time went on, the sun still rose, the clocks still turned. She was still a doctor. Well, a student doctor, but still. Things got better. Sometimes. She's still always exhausted at the end of the day but at least there's no PittFest: Part 2 (and please god let it stay that way).
There are still days, however, where she feels drained beyond belief. Today is certainly one of those days. The traumas keep coming in, the ambulance bay is acting as a revolving door. She's sure triage is backed up even worse, she's too scared to look to confirm. She feels the exhaustion creeping in, so she finds herself walking to the break room to get a cup of coffee, even though she doesn't even really like coffee. She just needs something to get through the rest of the day. Don't ask her how many hours are left. She doesn't want to know the answer.
When she walks into the break room, what she finds is Dr. Langdon and Dr. King with their asses resting on the counter, facing each other, and kissing. Directly in front of the coffee machine. This is a cosmic joke.
"Oh... my god." is all she can say. She's not sure she knows any other words right now.
She's not shocked to find them this way-it's not the first time, definitely won't be the last either-but she is upset that it's directly in front of the coffee machine, as previously stated. She never even uses the coffee machine! She barely likes coffee! And the one time, the one time, she wants coffee to help her get through an already grueling day, this is what she finds! Ridiculous!
Dr. King and Dr. Langdon don't even notice she's there. Well, now she feels awkward too. Normally, she'd probably just walk out and suffer, but today she's determined. And exhausted. Mostly exhausted. She taps Dr. Langdon on his shoulder and he finally separates from Dr. King. "Hey! Dr. J!" he greets her.
"Yeah, hey. You're directly in front of the coffee machine." She's being snappy, she knows, and it's not Dr. Langdon's fault, she knows. She just wants the fucking coffee.
"Oh, my bad." Dr. Langdon and Dr. King both step back in their respective directions and reveal Victoria's (current) worst nightmare. The coffee machine is empty. Bone dry. Not even a drop of caffeine in the goddamn carafe. She might cry. And no, she doesn't know how to work a coffee machine, okay? She's only ever used Keurig's. "Oh, I guess it's empty." Dr. Langdon speaks up. Victoria hears the pity in his voice, and yes, she does appreciate it, actually. "I have an extra Red Bull in the fridge. You want it, Dr. J?" Okay, now she might actually cry.
"Or we can make a fresh pot of coffee, if you want. The stuff Dana orders is actually pretty good!" Dr. King adds.
Victoria takes a second to stare between the two of them. She was not expecting this when she walked into the break room. They're being so kind, and she's so tired. "Um, Red Bull would be great, actually. Thank you."
Dr. Langdon nods and grabs the Red Bull from the fridge and hands it to her. "You look tired, kid. Why don't you take twenty in here before getting back to work? We'll let you have the room to yourself." Victoria nods and sits down at the table. Dr. Langdon intertwines his fingers with Dr. King's and leads her out of the room, hold the door for her on the way out.
Before she even takes a sip of the Red Bull, she feels renewed.
8. Collins
Heather grew up in Portland. She knew weird. That's Portland's whole thing. Albeit she didn't grow up in the city proper (her house was a small 2 bedroom bungalow in Beaverton), it was fucking weird, nonetheless. Everywhere you looked there was imagery of Sasquatch, he was the eternal unifier of the PNW. Portland has a mermaid festival, multiple roller derby’s, and a boat race-except the boats aren't boats, they're giant pumpkins. Portland is weird. She loves it.
She misses the weirdness sometimes, misses the breweries and the hacky-sacking man she used to see on the way to school as a kid. Luckily, being an ED doctor, you see a lot of weird. Not always in the fun way, but still. She doesn't know how many times she has to tell people that if you're going to stick something up your butt, make sure it has a lip at the end of it. Yeah.
Today's weird ER story is, apparently, Langdon making out with Mel, on Robby's desk.
"If Robby saw you right now..." She calls to Langdon from her charting desk.
Langdon pulls back from Mel, but keeps her wrapped up in his arms. He turns just enough to see Heather. It's like if he stops touching Mel, something bad will happen. "Well, Robby and I aren't exactly on the best terms right now despite my constant attempts to reconcile, so."
Heather sees Mel make a face and start rubbing Langdon's arms comfortingly. It's a sore subject. Langdon looked up to Robby so, so much. From Heather's point of view, Langdon idolized him. Robby trained him, made him an incredible doctor-to the detriment of the other residents, honestly. Then Langdon got sick, got an addiction, and Robby could never look at him the same. Heather doesn't know if Robby blames himself, or is really just that angry at Langdon for having an addiction. It doesn't seem fair from Heather's perspective. She never thought she'd see the day she sided with Langdon. (That's not true, he almost always makes the right call for patients, even as the asshole he is.)
"Yeah, that's... true." Heather sighs. "I'm sorry he's so hard on you. You've clearly worked very hard to make amends with everyone here."
"You don't have to apologize for him." Langdon responds, his hand is drawing doodles on Mel's upper back. Mel is looking at him, gauging his comfort level. The two of them have always had something unspeakable between them. They had it with no one else, and no one could come between it. Honestly, Heather really loves the two of them together. "I appreciate it, Collins. If we're distracting you, we can go somewhere else."
"It's a little weird, honestly, but... Honestly, as long as there's no mouth noises, I don't mind. Carry on." She turned away from them, and went back to her charting. She loves Robby, but he's being an ass. (Ironic, considering that's usually Langdon's role.) Langdon laughs and pushes Mel back against Robby's desk, almost knocking the monitor off balance.
Heather stops paying attention, but she does hear Mel tell Langdon that one of the chords got ripped out of the modem. "Oh no... What ever will we do, baby?" Mel just giggles and goes quiet. Heather assumes they're kissing again.
The ED is weird. Weird is good.
9. Abbot
Jack can be a hardass. He's been told this, many times by many people. Robby, Samira, his brother. Well, maybe hardass isn't the right word. He just... he often feels he doesn't have time for the niceties of the general public. He's direct, to the point, and sometimes that must feel like anger, to others. If you asked him, he thinks of himself as a softie. It's the small moments that make him look bad, he swears. He's short, not rude.
If you ask any of his close friends, his ex partners, Samira, the people that really, truly, know him, they would agree. He's a lover. He's spiky on the outside, soft on the inside, like one of those prepackaged ice cream cones with the frozen chocolate and peanuts. He loves romcoms and chocolate and sheet masks with animals faces on them.
He loves love.
So, when he decides to be healthy and takes the stairs up to surgery to check on a patient, and sees Dr. Langdon and Dr. King sitting in the window sill, all over each other, he decides not to intrude. They're both smiling, they look happy, giddy even. They look like teenagers experiencing puppy love for the first time. Like high schoolers sneaking out of class to make out under the bleachers. Ignore the fact that they're in their late twenties and early thirties. And Jack may be in his late forties, but he can still remember what that spark of love is like. He feels it himself every day.
He knows Dr. Langdon and Dr. King have been together for quite some time, it's certainly not a new development. Being on (somewhat) permanent night shift has (somewhat) absolved Jack from hearing the rumors that float around the ED day shift, but this one has certainly made its way to his ears. Samira is very in the know.
When he spots them cuddled up in the window sill, he decides to choose the lovey-softie-gooey part of him and leaves them be.
He can take the elevator this time.
10. Robby
Robby runs this ER. (He doesn't, Dana does.) He knows everything that goes on in this ER. (He doesn't, not even close. Princess and Perlah do.) He watches his students and residents like a hawk. (Debatable.) He's fair and kind and just in his decisions. (Definitely not true.) He's a good doctor. (What the hell, sure.)
The ER is his home. He knows it like the back of his hand. He knows the slippery areas of the linoleum, he knows the cracks in the charting desks where all the pens fall in, he knows the loose outlets that won't hold an iPhone charger unless you stand there and hold it.
He knows this ER, he feels like he built this ER with his bare hands. He certainly built his residents with them. That's why Langdon's betrayal hurt him so deeply. He was the number one, his star pupil, his best resident, and he threw it all away. Robby will never forgive him.
In all honesty, he's been avoiding Langdon since he came back from rehab. He almost can't look at him anymore.
When he's walking into the lounge and sees Langdon's tall body and dark hair near the table, he almost turns around and leaves. Except he left his fucking glasses on the counter while he was making his coffee this morning and he needs to chart before another trauma steals him away. It will be quick, in and out. He walks in and Langdon doesn't even look up. As Robby gets closer to the table, he finds that Mel King is sitting on top of it, mouth connected with Langdon's.
"What is this?" Robby announces into the quiet room. Langdon and Mel break apart and look at him.
"Hey, Robby." Langdon answers. He sounds wary. Good. He takes a step forward, like he's protecting Mel.
"I was not aware that this was something that was happening." Robby gestures between Langdon and Mel.
"Yeah, well, I would've told you months ago but you run at the sound of my voice, so I haven't really had the chance." Langdon crosses his arms over his chest, defensive. "HR already knows. Everyone already knows. Wouldn't want to give you another reason to throw me out."
"Oh, I'm sure I could find one." It sounds like a threat. Maybe it is.
Langdon sighs and whispers to Mel, "Hey, baby, can you give us a minute? Yes, I'm okay. I'll be right out." He grabs her hand and leaves a kiss on her knuckles before she walks out, shutting the door behind her. Langdon turns back to Robby. "I don't know what you want from me, Robby. I've done it all. I went to rehab, I go to NA, I do your drug tests, I got a therapist, I've apologized to every fucking person in this department. Including you! Multiple times! And I worked my ass off to come back, and it was really fucking hard. I never complained because you were right, it was exactly what I needed. I've been clean for over a year, I've been been back in the Pitt for months and I've done a fucking good job. I am a good doctor. We both know it. So, what the fuck is left to do for you to finally forgive me?" The question hangs in the air. Robby refuses to answer, refuses to look at him. "Let me know when you figure it out."
Langdon says it with a finality. He drops his arms and walks out of the room, not bothering to shut it behind him. Mel is waiting outside the door, concern written all over her face. Robby watches them from the lounge.
Robby hears her soft mumble of "hey, you okay?" and she pulls Langdon down into her arms. It's awkward-Langdon is much taller-but they fit together like puzzle pieces all the same. Langdon nods, face hidden in Mel's neck. Mel pets his hair and holds him for as long as he needs.
When Langdon pulls away, he kisses Mel one last time before muttering "I love you."
Mel replies "I love you," in return, and they walk off to whatever patient needs their care.
Fuck. Maybe Robby needs a therapist.