Chapter Text
It’s Robby’s third shift back with Langdon after his sabbatical, and probably his last if everyone keeps suggesting they kiss and make up.
“He’s different now, you know,” Dr. Mohan had said softly, the first shift back, after Robby dismissed Langdon from a trauma. “In a good way.” she had corrected, when Robby’s worried gaze had turned to her. “He’s less jumpy, and arrogant. I mean, he’s still Langdon, but-“ she had cut herself off, glancing at her chart. “You’ve been gone a while, Robby. He’s better now.”
Robby had smiled politely and nodded. “I’m sure,” he had said, but he wasn’t. She didn’t know what he did.
Others had differing opinions on this, ‘New Langdon’. As they were finishing an appendectomy, Dr. Garcia had announced, out of nowhere, “Look at him. He always acts so humble now.”
Whitaker had snapped his head up. “What?”
“Not you, farm boy.” Garcia had gestured towards Langdon wheeling in a patient from chairs. “Dr. Ken. He’s always so meek and apologetic. It makes me sick.”
“Can we focus on the patient we’ve got our hands in at the moment?” Robby declared.
“Of course, Dr. Robby,” Whitaker had said, but Robby didn’t miss the glance he shared with Garcia.
“Still upset with the prodigal son?” Perlah had asked later, after Robby delegated Langdon back to triage.
“Triage is a perfectly suitable place for any resident,” Robby replied easily, replacing his gloves. “Even prodigal ones.”
Perlah just raised a silent eyebrow, making it clear she disagreed. “Angkop para iwasan siya, ibig mong sabihin.” She murmured to Princess, who giggled.
Robby rolled his eyes and stepped away. He didn’t need to speak Tagalog to know what she was saying. It was fine. They didn’t know what he knew.
There wasn’t a moment he could forget about it. On the second day, Doctor King was discussing a patient when his name was dropped like it was nothing. “This is just like a case Langdon told me about-” she had said with that characteristic Mel enthusiasm. And Mel, ever the empath, must’ve seen the moment Robby’s eyes flickered. “Oh, sorry.”
“What for?” He asked easily, trying to brush it off.
She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. “Oh, I don’t know. No reason.”
Mel was quiet for a moment, before blurting out, “I just know Frank was excited to have you back.”
Oh, great. Frank. Not Dr. Langdon. Frank. A name Robby had stopped using even in his mind ever since the betrayal. “What, he didn’t get on with Al-Hashimi?” He asked easily, looking up from his charting.
“No, no. I mean, yes.” Mel stumbled, and Robby almost felt bad for putting her on the spot. Almost. “They got along, it’s just-“ she hesitated. “he’s been working really hard and wanted to show you.”
“I’ve heard,” Robby said, looking back at his charting, but not really seeing it. “I’m happy to be back.” That wasn’t entirely true, either.
It was a definitive statement and a conversation ender. Even Mel sensed that. “Right, then I’ll get back to…” she gestured to the ER, before speed walking away.
Mel didn’t know what Robby knew. She didn’t know why he couldn’t forgive him.
Now, on his third shift back, he was well and truly tired of it when he saw that look on Santos’ face. The one that said, ‘I need to talk to you, and it’s not about a patient’. A look he’d gotten to know very well.
“What’s up?” He said, stripping off his gloves and washing his hands.
“Langdon’s in triage,” Santos said, her typical cocky attitude subdued.
Robby froze for only a millisecond getting soap. Not this again. “Yep,” he said, popping the p.
“So, what, is he is exile or something?” Her voice was smooth, her hands in her pockets.
Robby stopped washing his hands. “What?” He asked, looking up at her. He knew she had some nerve, but she usually cowed to his face.
Santos met his gaze coolly. “I asked if he’s exiled or something.”
Robby let out a frustrated chuckle. “Someone has to be out there.”
“Yeah, well you’ve sent him out there for the past three days in a row.” Santos reminded easily.
Robby blinked. “Are you sticking up for him? After your history with him?”
Santos didn’t flinch. “He apologized.”
And you accepted that bullshit? Robby wanted to reply as he dried his hands. “Well, it’s probably part of his program,” he said instead.
“Yeah, well he meant it. I could tell.” Her voice was icy. “And he doesn’t deserve to be stuck out in triage.”
Robby’s mouth felt dry, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Alright, would you care to join him, then?”
Her resolve visibly faltered, and Robby almost felt bad. Almost. “No, no, I-“
“Get back to work, Dr. Santos,” Robby said, turning away. “I can handle my own residents.”
A part of him was horrified at how gleeful he felt seeing that look on her face, but another, more vindictive part of him, justified it; his anger at Langdon only calcified in his heart.
“Robby,” Dana had said over her glasses, a few hours later. Her voice was sickly sweet, as she leaned over the desk to look at him. “You know, he’s made a lot of progress.”
Robby nodded, eyes tracking Whitaker directing the med students. “I know. Remember when he came out wearing surgeon scrubs? I don’t think I’ve seen someone change that often in one shift.”
“Robby,” Her voice was soft, but her eyes were all-knowing. “That’s not who I’m talking about.”
Robby’s stomach sank. “Not you too, Dana.”
She raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m serious! He’s made a lot of progress. Not just here, outside the ER too!”
Robby just groaned, rubbing the spot where his reading glasses sat on his nose. “I already sat through his court-mandated apology.”
“But did you listen?” He hated how right she was.
“I don’t want to hear about Langdon,” Robby said gruffly. “I’m serious. Nothing. Not a word.”
Dana just raised her hands. “Lord have mercy, Robby.”
“I don’t want to hear about him,” Robby repeated, closing out of the chart he was finishing. “I’m serious.”
“Copy that, boss,” Dana said, already walking away. “Not. A. Word.”
Unlike the others, Dana did know. She knew what Langdon had done, to the hospital, to his patients, and maybe worst of all, what he’d done to Robby; and now she wanted him to forgive him?
Her betrayal poked a red-hot needle into a long infected wound. And it began to fester.
Robby didn’t hear anything about Langdon for a while after that. Until, one hour before the end of his shift, he came face to face with the blue-eyed doctor wheeling in a patient.
“You’re supposed to be in triage,” he reminded sharply.
“Yeah, well this guy got stabbed in chairs! Should I leave him there?” Langdon barked back. “Mr. Lewis? Mr. Lewis, can you hear me?”
Robby waved over some of the med students. “McKay, Javadi, Mohan, and Whitaker, get this guy into trauma one please?”
He took the wheelchair handles from Langdon, handing them off to McKay.
“You,” he pointed to Langdon. “Get back to triage.”
Langdon’s eyes flashed with obvious hurt. “But I-“
“That’s not a request, Langdon,” Robby snapped, reveling in how the doctor flinched when he didn’t say, Frank.
“Actually,” Whitaker had appeared at his side. “We’re about to sedate the guy in South 10 and need extra hands. Could he help for a minute?”
Robby’s eyes flicked between Whitaker and Langdon. It stung his eyes to do so.
“Robby! Patient’s crashing!” McKay yelled from the open door of trauma one.
I don’t have time to deal with this bullshit. “Fine,” Robby snapped, heading into Trauma 1. “But you get back to triage when that’s done.” He told Langdon.
“Thank you, Robby, of course I will Robby-“ sputtered Langdon, sounding much like an abandoned dog finally acknowledged by his master. It disgusted Robby.
The door of trauma one slammed behind him, and he was free of Langdon. At least for a while.
He emerged later from trauma one, shedding dirty gloves.
“He gonna make it?” Dana asked, not looking up from her tablet.
“They’ve got it covered,” Robby said, joining her with a sigh.
“Ahmed chased the other guy outta the building. Should’a seen it,” Dana said mildly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which in a way, it was.
Robby looked around the hub, frowning. “Where the hell are my residents?”
Dana looked at her tablet. “There are three in South 14.”
“Chart says that’s empty. Why the hell are there three in South 14?” Robby questioned. “That’s not a trauma.”
Dana clicked her tongue, not looking up. “A surprise, maybe. Should we go see?” Her voice was casual, all-knowing as she started striding down the hallway.
Robby frowned. “What do you know that I don’t?” He asked, following her anyway.
Dana snorted. “Where to start?”
“Alright, what’ve got in here?” Robby asked, swinging the door open as he walked inside.
Dr. King was at the bedside, filling something out on her tablet. Dr. Santos, garbed and dressed was treating and stitching a jagged wound in the forearm. All of this was normal.
But the unconscious patient on the bed was Langdon.
Definitely not normal.