Work Text:
The taste of beer is cool and crisp in Cassie’s mouth, warming at the back of her throat as it goes down. The silver can in her hands dimly shines in the light of the street lamp nearby, contrasting against the thick darkness engulfing her and her coworkers. The casual banter and laughter is, likewise, warm too– loose laughter, easy conversation, comfort in a way that they all need after everyday.
“And then, I promise you,” Cassie says, already laughing as she wipes a dribble of beer from her lips, “Mateo runs out of the bathroom with–”
“Oh, come on,” He groans into his palms as he sinks his face into his hands, already knowing where this story is going to go.
She opens her mouth to resume her story, but her attention flicks down. Her phone rings in her pocket.
Tentatively, she plucks out her buzzing phone and looks curiously at the caller ID as the conversation falters with everyone watching her. It’s an unknown number.
She hesitates. Cassie isn’t sure why but she feels compelled to answer it, despite the fact the unknown number could well be a telemarketer or another spam call.
She clicks the green answer button anyways and puts it to her ear “Hello?”
“McKay.” Langdon's voice cuts through, quiet but unmistakably his. His voice is strained as he attempts to be casual and just falls short.
“Langdon.” She says, caught off guard. The whole park goes completely silent as she says his name. Hell, it felt like even the rustle of the trees’ leaves had been put on pause.
They were acquaintances at max. They’re cases didn’t overlap often and freetime is a foreign concept at PTMC, so they rarely interacted much in The Pitt. So this was notably eyebrow rasing– some may say even a little strangle.
She lifts up her hand as she stands, silently telling the others not to interrupt despite everyone– particularly Yolanda and Mel– leaning forward with a curious glint. Even while turned away, she can feel them burrowing holes into her back while she moves away to somewhere more secluded.
“You okay?” She asks, voice low and earnest.
“Yeah, yeah,” He says too quickly. “I’m good. Great, even.” As he speaks more, Cassie hears the subtle phlegm in his voice.
Her brow furrows. “Are you sure?”
The other line goes quiet. Cassie worries that he hung up on her. “Remember what you said to me last week?” He says, stammering and struggling through his swamp of words. “That I could call you,” Langdon takes in a shaky breath that’s barely picked up by his phone’s microphone. “If I ever needed anything?”
Her heartbeat picks up. “Yeah, anything. I meant that.” She can’t help the overwhelming concern that seeps into her voice.
“I just,” Langdon takes another pause, cutting himself off. “...company would be nice. Really nice, actually.”
Cassie doesn’t know how to approach Langdon being vulnerable. Handling hard situations is her daily life. Crisis, grief, people falling apart– those things she can do with the confidence of knowing she’s done her best to help them through it. But right now, she isn’t sure that she has that confidence.
“Yeah?” She asks rhetorically.
“Yeah.” He says, almost a little deflated as if asking for help was the worst thing in the world.
“I can be on the line for as long as you want me to.” She says quietly. “Or, if you want, I can come to your place.”
“You don’t have to do that for me.” Langdon responds with a certain tightness, voice a little choked and dimmer. “What about Harrison?”
“He’s with his dad this week.” She says gently. “I’m offering.”
There’s a beat.
“That would be nice if you could come over.” He says at last, voice small and devoid of his usual bravado. “Just for a bit.”
“Do you want me to bring some food for Abby and the kids too?” She asks.
Langdon goes quiet for a long while. “Abby’s… at her parent’s house with the kids.”
She feels a creeping guilt settle into her stomach. “Langdon–”
“No, it’s fine.” His voice breaks a little as he raises his voice just loud enough to steamroll over her. “The food would still, uhm, be nice.” He tacts at the end in an obvious attempt to switch subjects.
She catches it. “Do you have any preferences?” She asks, trying to refind her footing after the accidentally sour question.
“Italian would be nice.”
“Okay, Italian it is.” She proclaims, forcing some lightness into her voice but ultimately failing.
“Your choice for the order.” He adds, clearing his throat and stripping his voice of the wetness.
She glances up at the street, then to her coworkers who still steal suspicious glances at her. “I’ll grab us a Margarita and a Aglio e Olio to split. How does that sound?”
“Great.”
A second later, her phone chimes. His address appears on screen. She takes a few seconds to study it, mentally mapping and calculating travel time.
“Oh, you don’t live that far.” She says, some small relief finding its place in her chair. “I’ll see you in a second with the food, alright?”
“Alright.”
“Bye, Langdon.”
As her thumb hovers over the red end call button, his voice suddenly comes through again, sudden and rough.
“Fuck, I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess.” He says sharply, and borderline desperately, like the words physically hurt to say. “I’m so sorry, McKay.”
She leans her shoulder on a surrounding lamp post.
“Don’t be.” For a moment, she’s transported back into the time when she was the person on the other end– Grasping for any semblance of balance as the ground tilted below her feet. She remembers the feeling like it happened a moment ago. “I’ll see you.”
Another pause of many.“See you.”
The line clicks and renders into silence as Langdon hangs up first.
She stares at her phone for a few seconds as the bright screen fades dark. Nearby, the laughter, jabs, and jokes just a few feet apart feels worlds away.
Of course, they dim again as she approaches again. She doesn’t need a mirror to know that worry and some level of panic is etched on her features plain as day.
“Is he okay?” Samira asks as Cassie goes to scoop her stuff into her arms at a hurried pace.
“He will be.” Cassie reassures, but her expression betrays her faux calm.
She throws a final, “See you guys,” over her shoulder in a relaxed voice as she can muster, before disappearing from the park.
––
Above all else, Frank loves his kids. He wouldn’t trade his feisty, loud, and occasionally smelly four and three year-olds for the world. Actually, they are his world and more– they're his sun, star, moon, and everything bright in between.
Which is why he’s spending his whole day off with them now in the middle of the park on a warm afternoon, letting the rest of life wait.
The playground nearby still bounces with energy as metal swings creak, sneakers scrap on matting, and the bubbly laughter of kids who never lost their breath fill the air. Penny and Tanner, however, have finally hit their limit.
After a solid fifty minutes of chasing around the dog and bumping shoulders, they collapse dramatically at the picnic table beside Frank.
They shift across from him, legs swing beneath the bench and eyes glued to the dog whose tail still wags with residual energy.
“We’ll get ice-cream after this, Daddy.” Penny announces suddenly, her voice bright and very matter-of-fact.
Frank raises an amused eyebrow. “Since when did we agree on that?”
Penny shrugs with the absolute confidence only a three-year old can have.
“You always say yes later.”
Frank laughs under his breath and reaches over to ruffle her pig-tails, making his squeak and duck away.
“That sounds suspiciously like a strategy.” He hums with a grin.
His phone begins to ring on the table before his kids can further tease him, vibrating so hard that his phone rattle against the ambiguous and suspiciously stained wood.
Frank glances down, squinting at the somewhat familiar number before picking it up.
“Hello?”
“Hello–”
He pauses, recognition sitting a split second later. Mckay.
“Shit,” He says absentmindedly.
“Daddy, that’s a bad word!” Tanner pipes up immediately from across the picnic table, before crossing his arms and shaking his head theatrically.
“Oh sorry, buddy. Darn.” He corrects himself quickly, offering Tanner an apologetic smile.
Tanner studies him for a moment, as if deciding whether that correction counts, then nods with great seriousness and returns to staring at the dog.
He hears McKay stifle laughter on the other end.
“Darn,” He repeats, deliberately this time, leaning back on the bench as he continues his sentence, both to finish his thought and prove to his kid that he definitely, hundred percent doesn’t curse, “I keep forgetting to add you to my contact list.”
“I’m seriously still a random number after our somewhat weekly food runs?” McKay says with a scoff, landing somewhere between actual offense and a silly joke.
“I forget!” He defends, shrugging his shoulders helplessly even though McKay can’t see it. “I don’t really text or call people much.”
“Yeah, yeah.” McKay mutters. He can hear her smile.
“I’ll do it right now.” He declares. Frank hurriedly opens his contact app and logs her number under ‘Mckay’. As he does, he silently mumbles the name, more to himself than anyone else.
“You know, you can call me Cassie.” She says. “I don’t get why you don’t.”
“Oh.” Frank says, quickly deleting it and replacing it with Cassie. “Old habits die hard.” He takes a moment to grimace to himself at the implication but shoves that to the back of his head.
“So what’s up? He asks casually, watching as the dog's eyes begin to drop to sleep. “Is everything all good?”
“Not really.” She admits with defeat. “Chad just told me this morning that he’s giving me his weekend since he and his girlfriend are skipping town to go see a concert. My parents can only take Harrison until 3pm, which is in 10 minutes, and I have to finish my shift.” Only as she explains does Frank notice the thick exhaustion in her voice.
“You need someone to watch over him?” He asks, straightening a little.
“Yeah.” She sighs softly into the phone. Even through the mic, he can hear the ER chaos surrounding her. “Sorry, is this too much or too late? I know it’s your day off and all.”
“No, of course not–”
“Daddy, who are you talking to?” Penny asks innocently, leaning halfway across the table to inspect the phone like it might reveal the person on the other end.
“I’m talking to a friend from work. I think you’ve met her once, remember Doctor McKay?”
“Of course!” Penny beams face lightning up in a snap. “She does my braids a lot better than you.”
Cassie laughs again, louder and warmer. “I heard that.”
Frank glances between the kids, both of them now staring at him exactly.
“How would you guys feel,” He says slowly, “If we had another friend, her son, join us this afternoon?”
“That would be awesome!” Tanner yells a little too loud for a quiet corner in the park. “I like new people.”
“He’ll come get ice-cream with us.” Penny declares with enthusiasm, already planning.
“Only a scoop!” Cassie says over the line, strict but nonetheless amused. “And tell Penny that I’ll do her hair again when I pick him up.”
“You’re the boss.” Frank says, still with a smile tugging at his lips. He lifts the phone from his ear and looks over to Penny. “She’ll braid your hair when she picks him up at…”
“7pm.” Cassie fills in.
“7pm!” Frank announces to a choir of cheers, lifting his hands in the air as if he’s announcing the greatest news ever.
Frank chuckles and lifts the phone back to his ear. “Where do I get him?”
“I’ll send you the address." Cassie says swiftly as a notification pops up on his screen a second later.
Frank glances at Penny and Tanner, who are both clearly listening.
In the distance through the phone, Frank can hear Dana’s stern voice calling for her. Cassie’s voice goes a little quiet as she shouts back, presumably pulling her phone away.
“I gotta go.” She says when she comes back to the phone. “Thanks again for doing this for me.”
“Anytime. Least I can do.” He says easily. And he means it. The words come out automatically, not because he’s brushing her off but because it feels obvious. Of course he’d help her. It doesn't feel like a favor so much as the natural thing to do.
“Bye, see you in a second.” She says quickly. He can already picture her sprinting back into action.
Then she adds, half joking, half serious, “Two scoops if he’s really nice.”
The line clicks, and the call ends.
Frank lowers the phone and slips it back into the pocket of his jeans.
“Alright, you win.” Frank says with fake and over dramatic defeat as he stands, brushing his jeans off. “Let’s pick our friend Harrison up and grab ice cream before we head back home.”
The kids yell once again, disturbing the surrounding sleeping birds, before hugging his legs as tightly as toddlers can. Even the dog barks in excitement.
––
Cassie doesn’t remember the last time she’s felt this exhausted. Not the normal kind where a nap in an empty ER room might fix things. The kind where it seeps into every bone and muscle on her body, filling her body with unmistakable weight and heaviness that makes every movement feel like she’s dipped in syrup.
She barely makes it home without chucking her shoes.
As soon as she unlocks her front door, Cassie quickly scurries to the bathroom. She gleefully watches the hot water of her bath fog the bathroom mirror. The sound of running water is also hypnotic to her at this moment.
Her bath is great and everything she needed to calm her ever burning nerves. She eventually drags herself out, dries off, changes into something comfortable, then throws herself into the coziness of her bed.
She curls into herself, already halfway drifting asleep the moment her head reaches the pillow, before the buzz of her phone shoots her awake.
Cassie squints at the screen to see the caller ID.
‘Frank Langdon’
She stares at it for a second, wondering if she has energy to answer him right now. She also wonders if this is an emergency again. With a quiet sigh, she straightens and grabs her phone.
“What?” She mutters, voice already groggy. Cassie twists in bed, trying to scurry under the sheets and get bundled in them.
“Do you like hockey?” Frank’s voice comes in equally tired as hers, but there’s something else threaded through it. Something excited.
She blinks at the ceiling. “You called me,” She pauses, containing herself. “To ask if I liked hockey?”
“Well, it’s more than that.” Frank says, quickly back-pendling.
“You disturbed me from my sweet, sweet sleep.” She groans, pulling the blanket further up her shoulders. “To ask if I liked hockey?”
Frank doesn’t respond right away. Even through a screen, she can feel him waiting for her to answer her question.
Cassie takes another sigh, rubbing her eyes. “As much as the average person does.” She says with a lazy voice, eyes barely open.
Frank pauses for dramatic effect, much to Cassie and her nap’s chagrin.
“Do you wanna watch the Penguins' game with me on Friday?”
That wakes her up a little. She adjusts herself from bed, unwrapping herself from her cocoon and slowly feeling more awake by the second. “I mean, sure?”
“I have an extra ticket. Abby was supposed to go but,” His voice thins. “We aren’t exactly at a great place right now. And she also has something to do in the morning anyways.” He finishes the explanation in a pleasant hum, like he’s trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
Cassie notices everything. The way his voice dipped at Abby’s name, the careful neutrality afterwards, the delicate shift in tone. She knows the subject is far beyond sore.
He continues, wanting to lighten and fill the dead space between them. “They’re good tickets. I got them from,” He pauses and Cassie can hear the embracement forming from all the way from her place. “Scalpers.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Frank.” She draws.
“I know! I know!” He says hurriedly, rushing over her reaction as if to extinguish her questions and jabs before they could even burst into flames. “But these are worth it.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose as she shuts her eyes tight. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You are being very judgmental for someone who doesn’t know how good their tickets are.” Frank defends without another pause.
“I feel like I have a stupid younger brother.”
“I am an adult who makes bold financial decisions.”
“Bold is definitely a word.”
She can already see him waving his hand to dismiss her. “Also I would be complimented if you didn’t add the word stupid.”
“What do I even wear?” She asks, looking over at the silhouette of her dresser from across the room. Her wardrobe flashes in her mind but nothing perfectly fitting comes to mind.
“I don’t know,” He says. “What you usually wear but with my Penguins’ hat.”
She scoffs, wrinkling her nose in disgust even if he can’t see her. “That is the most sweaty, disgusting looking hat I’ve ever seen but sure.”
“Thanks, Cas’.” He says, not quite angry.
Cassie’s eyebrow lifts. “That’s new. Cas’”
“That's just,” He stammered, a little shocked himself. “Came out.”
“Huh.” She says simply, not sure of where to go from there.
He coughs awkwardly, as if to break the sudden strange silence “So you’re coming?” He says quickly, like he’s hoping the conversation will pass without any more painful quiet.
“See you there.” She agrees, then adds through a yawn, “Pick me up from my house.”
“Of course and,” Frank says immediately and quickly, before his voice suddenly shrinks. Earnest in a way that makes Cassie’s chest tighten a little bit.
“Take this as a small thank you,” He says slowly, like the words are afraid to fill the space. “for helping me get through my bad days.”
The sentence lands gently but something in her chest shifts and calms. “Yeah.” She murmurs, looking up at the ceiling again. “Anytime.”
“Congrats on a year clean.” She says after a second.
There’s a second of silence before he responds. “Thanks.”
Neither of them rush to hang up right away, but eventually the line does go quiet.
Cassie sets the phone down on her nightstand, finds a comfortable position to lay in that looks more awkward than cozy, then pulls her blanket to her shoulders.
And as sleep begins to blur the edges of her consciousness, she wonders if she’ll actually have to wear that disgusting, foul looking cap after all.
—-
For the first time all week, Frank has quiet.
Real quiet.
Not the version filled with background cartoons, toy cars crashing and beeping their way into table legs, or the endless chorus of barking– not that this version of quiet isn’t special to him, but he does need a break. Just the soft hum of the apartment and the faint rustle of paper as he turns a page.
He sinks deeper into the couch, enjoying the book in his lap. He hasn’t had the time to read anything in forever. Well, unless you count children’s books, but he certainly doesn’t count The Hungry Caterpillar for the seventeenth time.
Frank adjusts the lamp beside him and carefully turns another page, trying not to lose his spot–
His phone suddenly explodes with the opening chords of Wonderwall. Loud. Painfully loud.
Frank startles so hard he nearly drops the book. He mumbles a little “Oh, come on.” as he opens his phone. He doesn’t need to read the caller ID to know who it’s from
“Cas,” he says when he answers with absolute, little disturbed certainty.
“Still getting used to the custom ringtone?” She asks with a breezy smile, sounding a little too pleased.
Frank rubs a hand on his face.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it.” He laments. “I should have never told you that I could play it.”
“Yes and you thought it was so impressive.” Cassie teases back. “You were very proud of yourself.”
“It’s the only song I know on guitar!”
“I figured.”
Frank presses his lips into a line, shaking his head as he wedges the phone between his ear and shoulder. His other hand flips through the book, trying to find the page before Oasis attacked him.
“Anyways, why’re you calling?” He says somewhat absentmindedly, combing through the book to find his lost page.
The phone begins to buzz again, causing another shockwave of Wonderwall to blast directly into his ear like a personal attack.
“Jesus–!” he yelps, jerking the phone away and dislodging it from his head.
Another call. Wait, no, FaceTime. Of course it is.
He stares at the request for a second, thumb hovering over the screen. A small, irrational thought crosses his mind. Do I look presentable enough for this? He drags a hand through his hair before it immediately sticks up again.
Whatever. It’s Cassie. She’s seen him worse, in multiple senses of the word. He accepts the FaceTime call.
The screen flickers as Cassie appears, makeup done but still in her house clothes. The warm light of her bedroom light softens her face. Notably, her eyes are bright and almost starry.
As his camera seemingly loads in on her end, her mouth curls into a grin. “Nice bed-head.”
“Thanks.” He says, devoid of amusement and staring into the camera flatly.
Cassie snickers, the sound airy and unrestrained.
Frank shifts on the couch and leans back, stretching out in front of him. He holds the phone a little farther away now, wary of another onslaught of Wonderwall.
“So,” She says, pursing her lips like she’s preparing an illegal confession
“So.” He echoes, curious.
Her voice is slow, careful, and deliberate. “I’m going on a date.”
“A date?” He says echoes a second time, voice crying a confused edge as if he didn’t hear her right.
“Yes,” Cassie replies patiently, enjoying the word. “A date.”
Frank sets the book aside, not caring that he stops the bookmark on the wrong page.
“With who?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
Frank’s eyebrows knit together. “Why not? Is it because I know them?”
Cassie shrugs casually, but her delight at his confusion is plain on her face. “Because.”
“Because I know them?”
“You should like Princess and Perlah.” She deflects, suddenly briskly and practically shoving conversation in a different direction. “Anyways, I need help with what I’m wearing.”
“I’m flattered you’ve come to me for fashion advice.”
“Don’t be.” She replies immediately, her tone blunt and unapologetic. “Victoria and Dana didn’t pick up my call. You were my third choice.”
Frank sits up a little.
“That’s still something!”
“You were the back-backup.”
“I’m still on the podium!” He insisted, gesturing vaguely.
Cassie laughs again in the way that disarms him, her warmth spilling through his phone’s crappy speakers.
“Alright,” He sighs, surrender creeping into his voice. “Let’s see what you're working with.”
Cassie disappears off screen for a second, before reappearing with two outfits in her hands. She sets one of them on the bed behind her, then lifts the other to the camera.
“What do you think?” She asks, not insecure about the piece but only curious.
He blinks at the screen. He leans closer. “It looks like you’re going to a funeral.”
“Really?” She looks down at the dress, then back at the camera. The dress is, admittedly, a little formal and only black.
“Yes, very respectful for mourning.” He says, only to be met with a sharp stare. “Let me see your other one.”
Cassie rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a rustle of fabric and a vague thump, before she reapers on camera with the new outfit in her hands.
Again, Frank takes a moment to stare at it. “You look like you’re about to go into a court hearing."
“It can’t be that bad.” She defends.
“Are you sure?”
“You’re just being a dick for being dick’s sake.”
Frank leans back, rubbing a hand over his face as the realization settles in. This was going to be a long night. A very long night of fashion commentary he had absolutely not been prepared for.
—-
Cassie instantly clicks the green button the moment it flashes on her screen.
Across the room, Harrison sits on the edge of the couch, slowly finishing the knot on his shoelaces like his mom wasn't telling him that they’ll be late a second earlier.
“You got the tickets?” She asks without another second of waiting, already half-way into her sneakers and hopping once on her foot to force her heel into place. In the same motion, she shrugs her bag onto her shoulders.
“Yes.” Frank says. “If only they weren’t for the Minecraft movie.”
She snorts loosely. “Anything for the kids.”
She runs through her bag again, quick and practiced. Phone, wallet, keys, a little granola bar if the kids, or hell even Frank, get hungry and don’t feel like spending an exorbitant amount of money on overpriced cinema food.
From the phone, Cassie can hear Frank's kids in the background, bright and chipper as ever.
“Hello Aunt Cassie!”
“Hi! I miss you!”
Their voices overlap in cheerful chaos that’s only slightly distorted by the poor connection
“Penny and Tanner say hello.” He says as if she couldn’t hear them. She can hear the smile in his voice.
She grins to herself. “Tell them I miss them too. Miss them a whole lot.”
There was a muffled repeat of her message, met with another cacophony of highpitched squeals.
“Do you want me to get your and Harrison’s popcorn already?” He adds. “The line is short right now."
“That would be fantastic.”
Cassie pulls the phone away from ear for a moment and glances over at Harrison. The boy sits slouched on the couch, completely absorbed in his iPad. She didn’t even realize he dragged it from his bedroom to the living room. The screen flickers across the face as he watches a stream of random, obnoxiously loud YouTube videos.
“Harrision.” Cassie says.
No response.
She moves over and places a hand on his shoulder. “Harrison.”
“Hm?” The boy looked up, like he was only now remembering the rest of the world.
“Cheese popcorn, right?”
“Right!” He says, head sinking low again and back to the screen.
“And what do we say to Uncle Frank?” She lifts her phone so the microphone can catch his voice and clicks speaker.
“Thank you for getting us the tickets!” This time, he says it while looking up and beaming a small cute smile before returning to his tablet. If only they were on FaceTime.
“Of course.” Frank says simply.
Cassie settles a hand on her hip. “And plain—“
“Medium plain salt and a large cheese. Am I right?” He cuts in.
“You’re so annoying.” She says with a dry but entertained tone. “And also right.”
Frank chuffs softly through the phone, the sound briefly being swallowed by the noise of the theater lobby on his end.
“Can we get candy?” Harrison asks, suddenly alive and leaning in close.
“Candy would be good!” Penny says from the other end.
“No.” Frank and Cassie say firmly at the same time, despite the lag.
They both chuckle at the synchronicity.
“I’ll see you in 15.” She says, laughter still bubbling in her voice.
“See you.” He says.
The smile lingers as she hangs up.
“Come on, let’s go, go, go.” She says to Harrison as she drops her phone back into her bag, leading him to the front door. “Before Uncle Frank finishes buying out the entire concessionaire stand.”
That got Harrison moving.
Cassie opens the door in a swift, clean motion. As they walk quietly to the car and settle inside, her mind begins to naturally wander.
Not too long ago, things were worse. Difficult. Lonelier. Most especially for Frank, undoubtedly.
But Frank’s voice had changed, the careful edge had softened as months marched on and was replaced by something easier. There were still bad days, but even then, there seemed more light in him than there used to be.
His voice still echoed faintly around her head from all their phone calls, along with Penny and Tanner’s. The noise of it. The warmth of it. The almost familial quality that had grown without either of them planning it. It just happened.
She’s glad they have each other.