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Once was an accident, twice was a coincidence, three times was a pattern, and according to the chair of the meeting, that pattern was where the administrators in the physician’s health program (PHP) drew the line.
Dr. Crawford was a strict-looking man in his late 50s, the current elected head of the PHP, and Mel didn’t like the way he seemed so intent of staring Langdon down. He had started the moment he had laid eyes on Langdon a few minutes ago. It felt deliberately intimidating and borderline hostile, like he had already made up his mind about the situation, and that made Mel’s stomach twist with dread. She could only imagine how much worse it was for Langdon.
From where she was sitting, she could only see part of his face in profile, the muscles in his jaw moving almost relentlessly as he clenched his jaw.
Even though this meeting had been communicated as a ‘We just want to figure out the truth and make sure Dr. Langdon is doing well’-type, fact-finding mission, the setup was that of a court room, with Langdon and his hospital-appointed legal counsel sharing a desk upfront, opposite Dr. Crawford, Gloria, and the stenographer that Dr. Crawford hadn’t bothered to introduce to them, who would capture the proceedings. The rest of them were sat on chairs a few steps behind Langdon and his lawyer.
Langdon was wearing a dark blue suit and it looked deeply wrong on him. It fit him well, and he looked put together and presentable in it, but it didn’t look right. He looked stiff, contained, pulled into a rigid posture he would never willingly force himself into at work. Mel studied the parts of his face that she could see, jaw still clenched, pale, eyes fixed on Dr. Crawford as if blinking or looking away might prove him guilty, when everyone who sat behind him knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Thank you all for coming and for the numerous submissions to the online portal ahead of the meeting. We are here today to discuss several reported incidents of work-related drug exposure to Dr. Frank Langdon who is currently in his second year of probationary employment, conditional to maintained, verified and documented sobriety.” He pulled out a sheet of paper to read from it. “We’ll be discussing three incidents. One on the 12th of September of last year, reported and documented by at-the-time Chief Attending Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi, one on November 15th, reported and documented by Attending Dr. Jack Abbot and lastly, the incident on February 18th, reported and documented by Attending Dr. John Shen. I have reviewed all submitted statements. The aim of this meeting is to ascertain if any of these exposures were planned or deliberate. I think it is understood that three irregular occurrences within less than one calendar year is considered highly irregular.” He looked at Langdon again, Langdon didn’t move, Mel was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing either.
Someone behind her exhaled slowly and deliberately. The tension in the room was palpable.
“For the incident on September 12th, the first person on my list is… Dr. King.”
Right, she wasn’t just here for moral support. Mel stood up when her name was called and remained standing in front of her chair.
“Dr. King, can you recount the incident from your perspective.” Dr. Crawford asked.
She gave a curt nod, eyes on him, eye contact, engage the core, stand up straight. She was ready.
“On September 12th I was assigned to triage and our ward clerk, Lupe Perez, called me to the window because of what we thought was an agitated patient. I went into the waiting room to speak to him, and it turned out that Mr. Harper wasn’t a patient that day, but had been previously. We had treated him on August 24th for a dislocated hip.”
Dr. Crawford was moving his hand impatiently, beckoning her to hurry up. Mel kept her face carefully neutral, tried not to let her annoyance sound in her voice, she wouldn’t be telling him this if it wasn’t relevant.
“He let me know that he had brought in a tray of brownies earlier that day, as a thank you to the staff for our care, and that he had been baking two trays of brownies that day.” She swallowed. “One of them regular, intended for the ED team, and the other one laced with uhm… marijuana for his own consumption. And that he had switched the trays and brought the wrong one in for the department. He was very distressed and I do believe that he did not intend to drug anyone, but that’s not subject of this hearing. Anyway, I ran to the break room to warn everyone and make sure no one ate any of the brownies.” She quickly wrapped up her statement to avoid annoying Dr. Crawford, and promptly realised she had forgotten one bit. “Oh and I uploaded the police report to the link that was provided to us in the summons for this hearing, but I’ve also printed it out and I have it here in case you need it.” She held up the folder she was clutching for Dr. Crawford to see.
“I understand you were not one of the staff members affected by this… gift?” Dr. Crawford asked.
“That’s right, I was working upfront in triage and hadn’t made it into the break room.”
“And yet you have a copy of the police report that no one else uploaded, how come?”
She blinked, surprised by the question, her eyes darted over to Langdon, his face carefully blank, shoulders tense.
“I like to be prepared.” She made herself look back at Dr. Crawford. The words came out slowly, one word at a time, carefully choosing each one so as not to imply that she knew full well that Langdon would be likely to face undue scrutiny. “I wanted to be prepared in case any questions ever came up, like today.”
“And when you got to the staff launch, how many of the brownies had been eaten.”
“I couldn’t tell immediately, but a good third of the tray was gone. And Dr. Langdon, he was eating one of them with some of the other staff members at the time. I warned them, and I believe Dr. Langdon did what he could to reverse the intake.” To put it delicately.
“Alright, you can sit down Dr. King. Do we have Mr. Ahmad Zidan here?”
“Yes, sir.” Ahmad stood up next to her as she sat down.
“Mr. Zidan, I understand you were the one who coordinated efforts to consolidate security footage of the three incidents.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have uploaded the dated files to our platform. Your upload included a note. Would you care to explain why you think that showing footage of the first and third incident during the hearing would be counterproductive?”
Langdon and his lawyer turned around for the first time to look behind them, at them.
Ahmad squared his shoulders. “Uhm, like I stated in my note, it’s footage for you to review because it provides context to the incidents, but I don’t believe showing the footage to everyone is helpful.”
“That will be my call to make.” Dr. Crawford picked up a remote control from his desk and a screen Mel hadn’t noticed at the side of the room before now flickered to life. There were no cameras in the break room, but there was one aimed towards the break room door. The footage had been edited to show only key moments. Kim carrying in the brownie tray, a sped up shot of people coming and going from the break room a little while later, Langdon walking in with Donnie. And then Mel saw herself, sprinting into the room.
There was no sound.
They watched in silence as just a few seconds later, Langdon pushed past her and into the men’s bathroom. Mel watched herself, hovering by that door. Watched as Dr. Al-Hashimi walked towards her with unsteady footing, having been one of the first people to consume a brownie and the first one to feel its effect. She watched herself, telling her what happened, watched her sway and try to pull herself together, watched as Jesse came to check what was wrong, and watched Jesse go into the men’s room to check on Langdon.
He appeared after a quick sped up period, face flushed and eyes red from throwing up. Al-Hashimi was talking to him as best she could, and Mel remembered her assuring him it wasn’t his fault, that he might not even have digested it enough to feel the effect, but Langdon looked devastated. When Al-Hashimi left on-screen, it was just the two of them. Langdon was visibly panicking and Mel wished that Dr. Crawford had listened to Ahmad. It had been hard enough to see him like that on the day, rubbing his chest to keep the panic at bay. She was hugging him on screen now, trying to assure him, but there was no use.
She knew Al-Hashimi had requested to postpone the next random urine check, but had been denied, knew that the incident report had been filed. Mel had seen the whole thing when she read over her own statement. They had been adamant that it wasn’t his fault, but when Dr. Crawford paused the video he didn’t seem convinced.
“Dr. Langdon. Did you know the brownies were laced? The footage makes it very clear that by the time you consumed the drugs at least some of your colleagues had already felt the effect.”
Mel white-knuckled the binder she was holding. Al-Hashimi had literally started to feel the effect and made her way to the break room in that very clip they had just watched, he couldn’t have known.
“No. I didn’t know. And I wouldn’t have eaten any of it if I had. I tried to get it all out.”
“Very well. Does anyone else have anything they’d like to say about the incident on September 12th.”
To her surprise, Al-Hashimi stood up.
“Yes…?”
“Dr. Al-Hashimi, I was the interim chief attending of the PTMC ED day shift at the time of the incident.” She introduced herself, pointing towards the screen to help the connection along. To remind him he had just seen her there.
He nodded for her to go ahead.
“I’d like to attest that the brownies were delicious and did not smell or taste like they contained anything other than standard ingredients.”
Mel caught the stenographer smiling at that. Dr. Crawford seemed baffled, but nodded. “Thank you. Noted.”
Dr. Al-Hashimi sat down.
“Anything else?” Dr. Crawford scanned the room. No one moved.
Mel glanced at Langdon, his fingers twisting his bracelet around his wrist under the table nervously.
“In that case let’s move on to the incident on November 15th. Is Dr. Abbot here?”
Dr. Abbot stood, wide stance, shoulders back, head high. “Here.”
“Dr. Abbot can you walk us through the incident as you remember it?”
“I can, and we have partial footage of the incident.” Abbot said, steady. “On November 15th, the patient, Mr. Lewis, presented with to the ED via ambulance with acute abdominal pain. He was calm during the ambulance ride, but as we wheeled him in, he began to panic. You will see in the footage that Mr. Lewis is a very tall, very strong man. It took five staff to restrain him. It was during this process that the incident occurred. We had decided on an intramuscular injection of ketamine to sedate the patient for appraisal, calculated to his estimated weight. One of my staff went to inject. It happened very quickly, but I have since reviewed the footage, if you want to bring it up. You’ll see that the patient manages to pull his leg free and Dr. Langdon tries to grapple him in the exact moment that the needle comes down. The injection was an ill-timed accident.”
Dr. Crawford pressed a button to skip to the next clip and Mel watched along with everyone else as the events transpire exactly how Abbot described them. She watched the patient grow agitated on his way into the ED. Ahmad had found and cut the footage to track the entire way in. Abbot was there, with Dr. Ellis, trying to calm him down at first and then calling for backup. People came running, Langdon ahead of them all, draping himself over both legs for the few second it took the others to catch up to help hold them both down before folding back to hold one leg only as soon as the other was covered. Again, there was no sound, but she could almost hear the scene play out, even though she hadn’t been there that night. Between all the bodies around the gurney, it was hard to see the exact order of events, but Abbot must have poured over them to get his statement exactly right, because with his prior explanation she managed to follow along more or less.
It happened so fast. The needle went in, and for a moment everyone relaxed, thinking the patient would go slack. She hissed through her teeth when Langdon hit the floor instead.
There was a mad scramble to get control of the patient, she could see Abbot yelling, trying to get a response out of Langdon. By that time, more staff had appeared for back-up and Abbot let go of the arm he had been holding down to get on the floor with Langdon, checking his vitals. He was out cold, completely slack. Someone brought a gurney and Langdon was lifted up onto it and rolled out. The patient was sedated by then, and the damage was done. The clip ended with the gurney disappearing off-camera.
The room had been silent the whole time, but with the video paused, it felt deathly quiet until Abbot spoke.
“I cannot stress this enough, there is absolutely no way that Dr. Langdon could have caused this to happen to him and there is no, and I mean absolutely no benefit or thrill he could have gotten out of this. It was a major incident that we took very seriously, we revisited patient control protocols and provided an updated training to the entire department so make sure this does not happen again.”
She looked over at Langdon, his fingers coiled into the elastic string of his bracelet, fingertips turning purple-ish from being caught in the elastic. He was looking at Abbot. Mel looked back at Abbot just in time to see him give Langdon a reassuring nod. “He’s done nothing wrong here, quite the opposite. Dr. Langdon is a dedicated team member and really threw himself in there, restraining the patient would have been much more difficult without him.”
“Thank you, Dr. Abbot. Does anyone have anything to add?”
Mel’s heart ached. She hadn’t been there, but she had come in two hours later for her regular shift. Langdon had just about started to come to, all hooked up to monitors to make sure the too-high dose of ketamine for his body weight didn’t cause breathing issues. Abbot had been there when he had woken up, had assured him it wasn’t his fault, that he was still sober, that it would be handled, that he wouldn’t have to worry. No one could possibly look at this and think anything of it… and yet, here they all were, watching it play out again on screen with Langdon’s future on the line.
“Dr. Langdon do you have anything to say?”
“No. Uhm, no. I- Dr. Abbot said it all. The only thing I remember from that day is the concussion from the fall.”
Dr. Crawford nodded, turning over a page from the pile in front of him. “This leads us to the latest incident.” He emphasised ‘latest’, not final, like he was implying it was just one of many more to come. The part of Mel that had watched too many law procedurals as a kid wanted to throw in an objection, she didn’t, of course, but the resistance to the wording was stuck inside her like gravel under her sternum. That, and the glaring, and the deliberately not-neutral way he phrased his questions had her on edge. Glancing at Al-Hashimi, she didn’t think she was the only one who noticed it. Her jaw was set in a grim expression.
“On February 18th of this year. Dr….” He paused to check his notes. “Santos, can you walk us through the incident in your own words.”
Trinity stood up, she had found a spot in the back of the two rows. Langdon’s lawyer turned around to watch, Langdon didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him, fingers pressing into the beads of his sobriety bracelet with white knuckles.
“On the day, our home hospice patient, Mrs. Miller, was admitted for breakthrough pain that wasn’t responding to any of her standard management options. Because of his restriction for dispensing, Dr. Langdon asked me to retrieve a transdermal fentanyl patch from the pharmacy for our patient for administration on that day, as well as a prescription for a five pack of additional patches for her caretaker, her daughter, to take home with her in case any further breakthrough pain occurred, since the patient was very obviously nearing end of life.” She inhaled deeply, steadied her voice that had begun to falter towards the end of the sentence before she continued. “I applied the first patch to the patient’s arm and handed the other patches directly to her caretaker. Dr. Langdon never handled the medication.”
“You’re sure about that?” Dr. Crawford asked.
“Yes.”
“And then what happened?”
“We were going to monitor the patient for a little longer in case any acute adverse events occurred in response to the medication, with a plan to release if none occurred within an hour. I left to attend to my other patients, I wasn’t needed. When I left, Dr. Langdon was sitting with the patient and they were talking about chronic pain.”
“Thank you Dr. Santos, you can sit down.”
“I’m not done!”
Dr. Crawford looked back at her, irritated. “Please sit down.” He repeated.
Trinity opened her mouth for a moment, but followed instruction.
Crawford turned his gaze back on Langdon.
“Dr. Langdon, based on your case file, you were initially prescribed tramadol for the short-term treatment of a back injury. Based on your own statement at the initial hearing of your case with the PHP, this is what led to your dependency and later theft of medication from the hospital and patients.”
Langdon was shaking his head before Crawford had finished speaking.
“No, sorry, no that’s part of it but that’s not quite right. I was prescribed tramadol, yes, but it wasn’t helping. I was still in pain and I couldn’t focus at work. So I was switched to a prescription of lorazepam for muscle relaxation instead. I was never addicted to opioids and I had never in my life had contact with fentanyl before, prescribed or otherwise.”
“Based on Dr. Santos statement, you were discussing your continued back pain with the patient on that day in February.”
Langdon nodded, he looked pale now. “It’s sometimes easier to connect with patients when you share something like that.”
“And you still experience back pain?”
“Every day.”
“And how do you manage the pain now?”
“Tylenol, hot compresses, massages, stretching and grinding my teeth a lot.”
“And you expect me to believe that when given the opportunity for more effective relief, you were not even tempted for one moment, to sweet-talk a nice old lady into letting you have some of her medication that you so conveniently prescribed extra doses of?”
“That didn’t happen!” It came out sharp, and Mel could see his breath shake on the next intake, could see him trying to reel himself in as Crawford goaded him.
“And yet there is no footage to prove otherwise.”
“Excuse me.” Trinity stood again, and this time everyone’s head whipped around to look at her. “Do you have his whole file up there, the whole thing of what happened to get him suspended and sent to rehab in the first place?”
Dr. Crawford frowned, furious for being interrupted. Even Gloria seemed to notice it now. He was fuming.
“Is my name in there?” Trinity asked.
He looked irritated, shaking his head. “I don’t believe it is?”
“Well it should be. I was the one who reported the discrepancy in medications to Dr. Robby-Dr. Robinavitch in the first place.” She pointed at the floor, to where a few floors beneath them, Robby was manning the Pitt while most of the senior staff were tied up here for the hearing.
Mel’s heart was beating double time. How had she not known that?
“And what is your point?” Crawford asked.
“Almost two years ago, when that all happened, I noticed something was wrong, because he…” She nodded towards Langdon. “-is really fucking bad at hiding when he’s cruising for a hit.”
The way she said it made Langdon flinch and elicited a number of harsh intakes of breath in the room.
“So when I tell you, that on that day, on February 18th, he wasn’t, I’d like you to put some weight on my educated opinion. With all that’s happened, I know I’m not the only one who’s cautious around him with benzos, but since he’s been back he hasn’t given anyone a single reason to doubt he’s actually working at being sober. On that day, he was collected, calm, competent, and friendly with the patient, but he wasn’t trying do get anything from her. He took his time, he asked me to dispense and apply the patch, he followed every protocol. And you don’t know me, but I don’t say this to be nice. I know he didn’t do this. The patient confirmed he didn’t ask for it either. She gave a statement, I know you have it, I uploaded it.”
Crawford held eye contact with Trinity, his face red.
“Why don’t we have a look at the footage.”
Trinity sat down, but Mel could still hear her trying to settle her breathing.
“Come on, man, don’t.” Ahmad whispered under his breath.
The screen flickered back to life and Mel clutched her folder closer to her chest. She knew what was about to come, and she really didn’t want to see it, but she couldn’t look away.
There, captured by a security camera, was Langdon. The patch was already visible on the first shot, sticking on his arm, small, reflective against his skin and he was unaware. Crawford put the footage on double speed and they watched as Langdon lost his momentum as he walked through the central hub area, like he had forgotten where he was going. He turned, slowly, looking up at the lights, and then tried to get Dana’s attention, but she had her back to him, didn’t hear him. Langdon, on screen, had obviously realised something was really wrong. He bumped into Dr. Shen, who was rushing past him and only stopped long enough to steady him and apologise.
Dazed, Langdon wandered towards the waiting room area, stopping multiple times like he was trying to figure out where he was going, and eventually shuffling out with a patient, almost stumbling. Mel could basically see the moment when he decided he needed air. The camera angle changed from the waiting room one to the entrance area. Stumbling up towards street level, he looked completely out of it and was visibly panicking. Away from the entrance, on the pavement, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, swaying where he stood.
That was when Jesse noticed something was wrong him. Out on his smoke break, he had been leaning against the wall sloping down into the waiting area, had greeted Langdon, and not received a reply. He was approaching now and they watched from an angle behind him as he reached for Langdon’s shoulder, startling him.
Crawford chose that moment to slow the footage down, and they watched in real time speed, as Langdon stumbled back, losing his footing, Jesse reached for him and missed, and Langdon slammed backwards onto the street. The footage switched to a nearby camera from a cafe across the road, just to show the moment an oncoming car hit the breaks and came to a halt - just in time.
There was a loud snap, followed the sound of dozens of wooden beads hitting the floor and scattering in all directions, deafening in the silent room.
“Fuck..” Langdon was holding onto part of the string and clutching a couple of the beads tightly against his chest.
“Dr. Crawford-“
“If I may-“
Al-Hashimi and Abbot had stood up at the same time to speak.
Abbot made a motion for her to continue and she did.
“An addict looking to use would have hidden away or otherwise tried to enjoy the high undisturbed. We may not have footage of the beginning of the incident, but we have a sworn statement from the patient on what happened. She thought she was doing a nice thing, she was also highly affected by pain medication herself at the time of the decision. It is very clear from the footage we just saw that Dr. Langdon was unaware and struggling. He tried to flag down multiple colleagues on his way out. This could have ended very badly and I don’t believe for a second that any of this happened by his design.”
“I can only agree.” Abbot backed her. “And as Dr. Langdon said, opioids were never part of the picture, while addictions can shift, I do not believe that to be the case here.”
“Neither do I.” Gloria said, her voice much softer, but not less steady than theirs.
Crawford looked between all of them.
“Why don’t we take a break.” He suggested.
Langdon was out of his seat and rushing to the door before he even finished his sentence, leaving behind the broken string and three lone beads on the table.
Mel looked around the room, and for once everyone looked as shaken as she felt.
“Go, kid!” Abbot nodded towards the door. “I’ll go tap out Robby.”
She didn’t need to be told twice, dropping her folder on her chair and taking off after Langdon. His footsteps still echoed in the stairwell when she pushed the door open, and she rushed up after him, up towards the roof.
“Dr. Langdon!” She caught up with him on the rooftop, breathing a sigh of relief when she found him leaning heavily on the railing, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the metal, breathing too fast and too heavily, not quite hyperventilating but not far off either. The wind was strong that day, making what would have otherwise been a pleasant enough spring morning feel cold up here and she regretted them both not having their jackets with them.
“Hey…” She let her voice soften a bit as she sidled up to him, leaning sideways against the railing to look at him. All the fear that had been hiding just under the surface, held back by the clenching of his jaw was written out all over his face now, as he looked out over the city, wide-eyed.
“He already knows. It doesn’t even matter, he’s already decided.”
There was no question about what he meant.
“If he has then he’s in the wrong, we’re all seeing how he’s running this meeting, it’s not his decision, not only. He doesn’t have sole say, and we can all confirm that he didn’t go into his meeting without a predetermined stance. He had no right to imply what he did. It’s not okay! But it’s not him who decides what happens, he’s going to submit his findings to the ethics board and you know the people from the employee wellbeing programme are going to back you on this too-”
“But what if he’s not wrong? What if he’s got it exactly right?” He cut her off, turning his gaze on her. Langdon looked rattled.
Mel shook her head. “I’ve seen the same evidence everyone else has, and I know you, I know you didn’t want any of this, it’s ridiculous.”
“But what if I did want it? I don’t-“ His voice cracked. “Mel, I think I did make it happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“With Mrs. Miller, I-I don’t remember it all, it was just… one of a million things that happened that day I-“ He looked away, eyes unfocusing into the semi-distance.
Whatever was going through his mind, it was coming from somewhere deep down. It had brewed somewhere in his bones, and it was bubbling up with a vengeance now. It was almost a physical struggle to speak, it seemed.
“What do you think you remember?”
“Santos, what she said, that all happened, but- fuck.” He let go of the railing with one hand and pulled at the knot of his tie, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt to give himself room to breathe.
“Mel, she was so nice! And so sorry about taking up our time when she was dying anyway, and I just-I sat with her and I talked to her. I was worried if she wasn’t feeling well on the patch, she wouldn’t tell us cos she didn’t want to bother anyone. So I stuck around and I talked to her, longer than I really had time for. But I didn’t want her to feel rushed, so we talked about being in pain and I don’t think she believed that I knew what I was talking about so I told her about my back.” He gave a desperate laugh, running his hands through his hair, messing up what the wind had already dishevelled even more, leaning heavily against the railing.
“It was jokey, my back was killing me that day, and I let her know, and it made her relax. She looked so happy that I got it? And she told me about her meds that helped her well but made her queasy, I wrote her a script for the nausea, and then she told me that her pain was starting to let up now. That the patch was working.”
Mel nodded along, letting him get his recollections out, still confused but giving him time.
“Okay, that sounds like you had a really good conversation, there’s nothing wrong with-“
He shook his head and Mel stopped talking.
“She told me it felt good, that she felt good for the first time in days and-“ he let out a long shaky breath, covering his face with both his hands as the wind picked up, tossing his hair and tie around, making the fabric of her dress billow.
“She told me, she said- she said ’It sounds like I could do with one of those patches too’. And, I said- I laughed, I laughed! And I said ‘I wish’.”
His chest heaved in a sob that he muffled into his hands. The cold wind making it harder to breathe, making him curl in on himself, breath hitching against the cold and dread.
Mel reached for him, taking him by one of his arms to pull him closer and he folded into her like someone had cut his strings, unable to even move his hands away from his face for a moment before latching onto her.
“I’m sorry.” He gasped out, his voice raw with emotion.
She clutched him tight around the middle, splaying her hands out on his broad back. He had this larger than life energy about him that made him feel so big most days, but he just felt lost in that moment. Mel shook her head.
“You didn’t ask her for anything. She was confused and meant well, she didn’t know what she was doing, and you had no idea that she was going to do it. This is not your fault. You did right by her, made sure she was pain free, you made a real effort to connect, that means so much more than anything else that happened that day.”
She could feel his hands clutching onto the fabric of her dress, then smoothing it over quickly like a few wrinkles mattered right now. She could feel his lips moving against her ear, bracing, starting to say something but not speaking.
Mel pulled back enough to look at him, but didn’t let go of him.
“Did you ask Mrs. Miller for one of the patches?” She asked because now was the time to say it.
“No.” He shook his head.
“Did you take one?”
He shook his head vehemently.
“Then what happened. Talk to me, please?”
He closed his eyes, his hands losing their grip and sliding off her shoulders where he had still held on, as a couple of tears slipped down his face. Mel took a hold of the front of his jacket, imploring him to speak, trying to keep him tethered like the wind might carry him off.
“I didn’t want her to do it. But.” He swayed his head from side to side. “There was a minute before I knew something was wrong… where everything felt really good again for the first time in forever.” He swallowed heavily, his chest hitching on the next breath. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do about that. You can’t call yourself sober after that.”
Her heart just about broke for him.
“That’s not true. You didn’t do this. You didn’t go out, you didn’t take anything that wasn’t for you. You didn’t willingly ingest anything.” She reminded him. “It happened to you. You were drugged, no matter what the circumstances were, no matter who meant well or why it happened. It happened to you. Not because of you, and not as a result of anything you did. Langdon? Look at me?”
He opened his eyes, dazed and so far beyond any kind of comfort.
“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” He admitted quietly.
Her eyes widened.
“No no, not like that.” He shook his head, grasping her by the forearms to assure her. She held onto his in return, fingers digging into his suit jacket because even with the railing between them, the roof suddenly felt too wide open.
“I just don’t know if I can keep fighting this. Being here. It’s just so hard even when everything’s going right. And I can’t keep… the meetings and tests and … now this?” He swallowed and she could feel there was more in the way his fingers gripped her. “I can’t have all of this… It can’t all have been for nothing. The med school, the loans, the residency, rehab. It’s so much, all of it.” His mouth moved but nothing came out.
She squeezed his arms, urging him on.
“If something is this hard to get, and this hard to keep, maybe it’s just not something I was ever meant to have.”
It felt like his soul was leaving his body as he said it, and he swayed in the wind.
Mel shook her head. “That’s not. No. I know it’s really hard. But you’re one of the best doctors I have ever met. If I needed help I’d want you to be the one treating me. Every day you’re here, you’re saving lives and you’re good at it. You’re amazing at it. And you come in, every day, even though you’re in pain, to make sure that other people aren’t. And you help them. You’re kind to them, you’re good with them. And with the med student. And with me! You make me feel like I can do it too, and you have since the first day.”
“Mel-“
She shook her head. “I didn’t know it was that bad. That it’s every day, you didn’t tell me. I wish you’d told me, because I know if I’m in pain if I go and I tell you, you’ll help. And I know things were rough with Robby for a bit, and maybe with other people I don’t know, but we talk! We talk all the time and I want to know. This isn’t a one-way street. You don’t just look out for me. You should have told me.”
His expression softened, he opened his mouth but she shook her head again. She wasn’t done.
“We’re going to go back in there, and we’re going to make sure that Crawford follows the evidence. Everyone in that room knows you and knows you didn’t do anything wrong. Thought crimes don’t count, okay? That’s normal, that’s part of recovery, thinking you might like drugs when you’re struggling is not what any of this is about. We’ll get this over with. And then we’re making an appointment upstairs because why the hell do we have pain specialists in-house if you’re not going there?”
“They’ll think I’m out for-“
“No they’re not. We’re going together. I’m not joking. I need you here with me, and I know you love to do this job… right?”
He looked down at where their hands had slowly drifted from clutching each other’s arms, to holding onto each other’s hands, capturing what little warmth was to be had on this rooftop.
After a long deep inhale, Langdon nodded. “I do.”
She smiled. “You’d be bored anywhere else anyway.”
He laughed, despite himself, but it turned into a grimace when he remembered that they still had to go back down there.
“Come here.” She pulled him into a proper hug and he went easily, wrapping her up, feeling more like himself again.
He didn’t pull away when the rooftop door creaked open behind them.
“Is now a bad time?”
Mel let go just enough so she could turn to see Robby standing there in the open doorway.
“Hey boss.” Langdon’s voice was rough, and he quickly moved to wipe his cheeks.
Robby was in his usual attire, one of the few people who weren’t set to attend the meeting, since he hadn’t been present for any of the incidents, and someone needed to run the ED while almost all other senior staff were tied up in the hearing. He came over to them, slowly, deliberate, taking in the scene.
“Jack filled me in. Sounds like a prickly guy.”
Langdon gave a tired laugh. “Save to say.”
“If he files any of this under deliberate, I’m appealing and asking for a new investigator.” Robby told them. “I know I’ve been hard on you, but I know you. I know you’re trying. You’re doing good, kid.”
Mel watched the relief wash over Langdon’s face, and he nodded, grateful. “Thank you.”
“I hear they’re calling people back into the meeting. You should probably head back down.” Robby added, then pulled something out of his hoodie pocket.
“What?” Langdon’s eyes widened when he saw it. “Where did you-?”
“Santos gave it to me to give to you. Says be careful, find a new string for it when you can and stop playing with it so much.”
He handed him the bracelet back, all the beads restrung together into a perfectly whole token of sobriety.
Langdon slipped it onto his wrist, breathing like his lungs could finally take in air again.
“You ready?” Robby asked him. Langdon nodded. Robby clapped him on the shoulder, before squeezing it warmly.
“And are you ready?” Robby turned to her, a warm smile on his face. Mel nodded.
“Good, let’s go wrap this up. I need you back in the pitt as soon as you’re done.” Robby turned to head back inside, not waiting for them.
She was about to follow when Langdon reached out to gently intercept her by her wrist.
“Mel. Thank you! I mean it.”
“Anytime. I mean it too.”
He smiled, then licked his lips like he was thinking hard before looking down and interlocking his fingers with hers, holding onto her as they made their way back inside, all the way, down the stairs, only letting go right in front of the room where the hearing was going to continue.
The corridor had cleared out, all attendees re-assembled inside.
“Wait, hold on.” She pulled him out of sight of the door, quickly re-buttoning his shirt and fixing his tie, smoothing out his jacket and his wind-swept hair for him.
“You got this.”
He nodded, taking a deep breath with her before they both walked back to their respective seats.
Mel wasn’t sure what had happened while they were gone, but it seemed something had changed Dr. Crawford’s tone.
Mel wondered if it had anything to do with the sight of Santos and probably Whitaker crawling around the floor to find the beads, or if the general outrage in the room just before the break had swayed him, whether Gloria had said anything, but his voice had lost its snide edge a little, and he wasn’t staring Langdon down like he was going to personally escort him off the premises anymore.
“After careful review of the available evidence, I have come to the conclusion that the three incidents discussed in today’s meetings were unlikely and unfortunate accidents, none of which were manufactured or taken advantage of by Dr. Langdon, who has otherwise demonstrated a stellar record of sobriety, both in documented NA meetings attended and spontaneous testing over the past 9 months. I thank you all for your participation and collaboration. My report and the transcript of today’s meeting will be distributed to the ethics committee and the board of the PHP.” And with that, Crawford stood and left the room.
No apology, no acknowledgement of the stress they had put him through, but at least they relented. It took a moment for the verdict to sink in, but when it did, it was like a dark cloud had lifted over the room. Langdon thanked his lawyer, shook his hand, visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
And then he turned to her, wrapping his arms around her middle in a tight embrace and lifting her off her feet, laughing.
The team gathered around them, clapping shoulders, shaking hands. Mel ducked out of the fray, letting everyone else take up the space, basking in the relief. Her arm brushed against someone as she stepped back and she looked at Trinity, hanging back a bit, but watching.
“That was really kind.” Mel told her.
Trinity glanced at her. “What?”
“The bracelet. It means a lot.”
“Well, can’t risk a code tan from someone slipping on them up in here.” Trinity brushed it off, but even so she couldn’t quite hide a smile. Mel felt a deep pang of warmth in her chest.
“Go make sure your boy doesn’t get in any more trouble. I’m not doing this again.” She told Mel when the group started to disperse.
“Oh he’s not-“
“Yeah, he is.” Santos rolled her eyes, slipping out of the room and heading back to work.
Langdon fell into step with her on the stairs, already shrugging out of his suit jacket like he couldn’t stand it for one more moment, offering her his arm on the descent.
“Okay, gentleman move, wow.” Mel chuckled, taking his arm and matching his pace. “Relieved?” She asked.
“Yeah!” He gasped out a laugh. “Yeah, safe to say. I… I don’t think I could have gone back in there without you.”
“Well you didn’t have to. That’s the whole point.”
“What I mean is: Thank you!” He looked at her intently.
“I meant it, anytime. Do you want me to make the call to pain management?”
They stepped into the pitt. It felt like coming home in the strangest way after all the excitement upstairs that could have changed everything forever.
He paused, turning towards her fully. “What I really want is-“
“Hey, you two!” Dana called for them at the charge desk, cutting him off. “Get changed, get ready, we have a multi-car pile up coming in, ETA 2 minutes. All hands on deck.”
“Talk later?” He asked.
“Later works.”
They parted ways, letting go reluctantly before rushing to get changed into scrubs.
Later would work just fine.