Work Text:
It was another day at the Pitt.
Not that Gloria would ever catch him saying that. No, ma'am, Langdon was a new man. Clean and sober. Drug free was the way to be. Just say no to drugs. Don't give in to peer pressure. That one was funny. It wasn't so much funny in the way that meant he was laughing his ass off, but funny in the peculiar way that life was funny - which was to say not at all. Besides, it was peer pressure that meant he wasn't taking drugs, so, in a way, wasn't he giving in by staying sober?
His sponsor said that wasn't the way to think about it. His sponsor said a lot of things. Forgive yourself, Frank. Don't be so hard on yourself, Frank. Pain is the way forward, Frank. I'm full of bullshit, Frank.
Langdon let out a breath. His back twinged. Grimacing, he reached for his coffee — the one drug no one could take from him because it was legal — and took a sip so long he was starting to feel a little light-headed by the time he was done. Somewhere, an IV stand beeped that it was out of fluids. The headache he was nursing all day pulsed in time with each beep.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep—
"Beep!"
Langdon looked up. Mel smiled down at him, holding a stack of papers in her hands. Anyone else would look hideous under the harsh lighting. Mohan, Collins, Robby, Langdon himself — but not Mel. It made her look more approachable. Warm. He felt a bit of that headache start to melt away as he made room for her.
"Hey, Mel," he said.
"Hello, Dr. Langdon!"
She was always so happy. Even on the hardest day. No one could be upset for long around her. Langdon's posture opened as he turned to face her, resting his chin in his hand. She looked back at him and tilted her head. A quizzical smile scrunched up the lines in between her eyes, and that was, frankly, adorable. He supposed, now that the divorce was officially signed and everything, thinking of his coworker as adorable was only wrong on an HR level rather than an ethical one.
"Is there something on my face?" Mel asked.
Langdon blinked a few times. That damn IV stand was still beeping. "No," he said, delayed. "No, nothing. Sorry. Just thinking."
"Oh." She pulled up a chair and sat beside him. "Penny for your thoughts?"
He scoffed. "I think they're worth a bit more than a penny," he teased. "With inflation and all."
"Quarter, then."
"Think bigger, Mel."
"Fifty cents. That's all I can afford."
"You drive a hard bargain." He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "But I guess I can give you the friends and family discount."
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "We're friends?"
"'Course we are. Do you think I'd give anyone else that kind of discount?" Langdon asked.
Her quizzical smile was melting into a real one. The last time he saw her smile like that was — well, it wasn't that long ago. She smiled a lot around him, and he smiled a lot around her. Abby used to throw that at him during the worst of their arguments.
"You've never smiled like that around me."
Maybe that was true. They got married too young because it was the thing to do. He was sure he loved her, once upon a time. She wasn't so sure she loved him. That hurt then. Now…
"How about you?" Langdon schooched closer to Mel. "Penny for your thoughts."
"Oh, if you want to know what I'm thinking, you'd have to give me a dollar."
The little smirk on her face caught him off-guard. He laughed, the sound of it echoing through the emergency department. Several faces turned their way, including Al-Hashimi and Dana. Langdon gave them a small wave of apology. He was on thin ice here. Laughing too much would probably crack it all wide open and drop him into the freezing lake below. At least Mel could keep him from dying of hypothermia.
"Too rich for my blood," he said. "I've got bills to pay."
"Too bad." She straightened her glasses. "I bet you would have liked some of my thoughts."
And, with that, she left him sitting there, gaping at her. It wasn't his laughter ringing through the emergency department this time. It was hers.