Work Text:
Mel is on her way to get some fresh air when McKay accosts her outside Central 8, her bangs looking more askew than usual.
"Mel, I’m sorry to ask, but…would you mind handling this?” She asks, sounding a little out of breath. “Santos could really do with an extra pair of hands over there.” She gestures towards West 12 or 13.
“Sure.”
McKay’s face relaxes into a smile and she gives a sigh of relief. “Thanks. You’re a life saver, seriously.”
“Um, who’s the patient?”
“Langdon’s wife. Abby.” McKay admits. “It's only a minor injury but – you know, she’s a VIP."
Mel suddenly feels rooted to the spot. “Right.”
“Jesse’s already taken her for X-rays.” McKay tosses over her shoulder, leaving Mel with her thoughts.
She talks about plenty of things with Dr Langdon, and they talk often – but never about his marriage.
It was just an indisputable fact, as solid and true as the golden band he always wore on his left hand.
He doesn’t bring it up, and she doesn’t ask. Maybe because, good or bad, she’d rather not know any details.
And maybe because there was a certain safety in the knowledge that anything beyond friendship was forbidden territory. If she felt a queasy swoop in her stomach when he looked at her sometimes, that was her secret to keep. To cherish, even. It could hurt no one except herself.
Being confronted with the living, breathing woman that was his wife was a different matter.
But – Mel was a doctor, and this was a patient. She was about to do the same thing she did over and over, every day. There was no need to feel any kind of way about this.
At least this is what she tells herself.
After a deep breath, she pushes open the door and steps into Central 8.
“Mrs Langdon? I’m Dr King.”
A woman is sat on the bed, cradling her left arm in her right. Early 30s, dark hair cut to her shoulders. Blue t-shirt, faded jeans.
She looks up and gives Mel a slightly nervous smile.
“Abby, please.” She says, her voice warm. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Frank’s wife.”
Mel takes a seat by the bed, trying to ignore the way these unfamiliar words echo around her head. Frank’s wife.
“He’s in a trauma right now but I’m sure he’ll come by once he’s free.”
Abby nods. “It’s really nothing, but I thought I had better come and get checked out.”
“Of course. May I?”
Mel proceeds to examine Abby’s arm. As McKay had said, the injury is minor – a sprained wrist and a shallow cut along her forearm.
This close, she’s hit with a faint waft of Abby’s perfume. Mel could be overly sensitive when it came to smells, but this was nice. Rose, and something else. Maybe vanilla. She wonders if Dr Langdon likes it too.
Mel pulls herself back into doctor mode.
“Any pain here?”
“No.”
So, this was Abby. Mel couldn't pretend she hadn't ever thought about her. Wondered what she might be like.
Somehow, she had expected someone more...something. More sophisticated, maybe. Less ordinary. Ridiculous, now she thought about it.
"How did this happen?"
Abby sighs. “It was stupid, really. I went home from work early, to get things ready for this party that we’re hosting later. It’s for my dad’s 60th. Anyway, I was up a step ladder to hang some bunting and Ziggy, that’s the dog, he was running around and…” She nods towards her arm with a grimace. “Like I said, stupid.”
Mel feels a sudden pang of envy at the idea of a 60th birthday party. Her dad hadn’t even made it to 50.
“Well, the good news is your X-rays all came back clear. Nothing broken.”
“That’s something.”
“I’ll get the sprain bandaged up and clean this wound for you.”
“Thank you.” She sounds relieved. "So, how long have you been at the Pitt?" Abby asks as Mel gets up to collect what she needs. "I don't remember Frank ever mentioning a Dr King."
Mel is glad her face is half turned away. "Coming up to a year now."
It hurt to know he had never mentioned her. Maybe he didn’t talk much about work at home, although it didn’t sound like that was the case.
But Mel didn’t have time to interrogate that particular feeling right now, so she firmly pushes it aside.
“I guess he hasn’t been here, most of that time.” Abby says slowly, her gaze a little wary.
The unsaid hangs heavy in the air between them.
Mel gives what she hopes is an understanding smile as she returns to her seat. “That’s right.”
It strikes her that this was all pretty uncomfortable for Abby too. Maybe more so. While she knew nothing, apparently, about Mel, Mel knew things about her life. More, probably, than Abby would like her to know.
Bandages done, Mel’s gaze drifts over to Abby’s purse behind her on the bed and the book poking out the top.
"You're reading Wolf Hall?" Mel asks, a little too eagerly. "I love Hilary Mantel." She adds quickly in explanation.
"Great, right? Not my usual thing, but a good book’s a good book, you know.” Abby says with a slightly wistful expression. Then she sighs. "Just...taking me a while to get through."
"I know the feeling."
They share a smile and Mel feels herself relax a little.
"I'll just go and see if Dr Langdon is free now." She says, rising.
“Dr King? Can I ask you something?”
Mel pauses, surprised. “Of course.”
“Is Frank…doing okay? At work?” Abby asks, sounding self-conscious. “He says everything’s fine, but…” She trails off.
Mel weighs her words carefully. “I think at first it was hard, coming back. A knock to his confidence, you know. But now he’s…doing great. Really great.”
Abby looks pleased by this and beams at her, revealing a dimple in her left cheek. “Thank you, Dr King.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mel leaves the room and approaches the hub. She can see Dr Langdon talking to Dana, his back to Mel.
"You said McKay was seeing Abby." He was saying, his voice low.
"She must have gotten dragged into something else." Dana says patiently, frowning at him. "What's the problem? Mel's an R3 too. A very good one."
"That's not..."
"And here she is."
Dr Langdon turns to look at her.
"McKay asked me to take over. She needed to help Santos with a patient.” Mel explains, squeezing her hands together tightly. She doesn’t know why she suddenly feels nervous. She knows she’s done nothing wrong.
For a moment, he just stares at her, his arms folded across his chest. She notices the sheen of sweat on his forehead. From the trauma, she supposes.
"Thanks for stepping in, kid." Dana says with a smile, before turning to look at Langdon with an expectant expression.
"Yeah. Thanks, Mel." He says, sounding as on edge as he looks, but like he was trying to push through it. "How's Abby?"
"She's fine. Nothing serious." Mel assures him, as Dana is called away by one of the nurses.
"What's the matter, exactly? Something to do with her arm, Dana said?"
"I don’t think I should tell you that. HIPAA, remember?"
He had said much the same to her, of course, when Becca had been his patient. But she was being perfectly sincere. He knew the rules as well as she did. And besides, in this particular situation, she really wanted to keep things as professional as possible.
For maybe the first time ever, he looks genuinely annoyed with her. But then he seems to regain control of himself.
"Right."
"You should go talk to her." She says hopefully, but when she smiles he doesn't return it. She gestures behind her. "Central 8."
"Yeah." He nods. "Thanks again."
"No problem."
But somehow, he didn’t sound grateful at all.
Today had gone from bad to worse. As she waits, Abby runs through the list of everything she still has left to do: finish making the food for tonight, tidy the house, pick up the kids, make them food, tidy the house again, bathtime, bedtime. Not to mention Ziggy probably needed another walk.
All before everyone arrived at eight. She felt tired just thinking about it.
She looks up at the sound of the door the room opening.
"Everything okay?" Frank asks, coming to sit next to her on the bed.
"Oh, yeah. It's just a sprain and a graze.”
“How’d you do it?” He asks gently, inspecting the bandage. Checking his resident’s work, she supposes.
“I was up a stepladder and Ziggy was running around…you can guess what happened next.”
He frowns. “You have to put him out in the yard when he gets like that.”
“He wasn’t running around when I went up the stepladder.” She says evenly, almost daring him to argue with her.
Frank meets her gaze and they seem to mutually decide to leave the matter there. It was one of the things they were working on in marriage counselling. According to Magda, their counsellor, criticism was one of their conflict triggers. Yeah, no shit, Abby had thought.
"Sorry for not coming sooner. Dana told me you were here but I was stuck in a trauma."
"It's fine. Dr King was great."
"Yeah. She is."
He looks a little uncomfortable, but she can’t quite decipher his expression.
Once, she had always felt like she knew her husband. Knew all his tells. Knew when something was bothering him, or when he was hiding something. Until he had completely blindsided her last September.
It had made her feel stupid. Now she’s not sure she knows him at all, if she ever really did.
"You never mentioned her before." There’s nothing to be gained by saying this, but she says it anyway. Somehow, she can’t help herself. Maybe it’s seeing him at work, at this place that means so much to him. If it should help her understand him better, it doesn’t. It just makes her feel more distant from him than ever.
"You know how hospitals are. Lots of people coming and going."
"Mm." It’s not that she doesn’t believe him. She’s just not sure if she really trusts him anymore.
She thinks of Dr King with her neat braid and gentle manner. She was young. Accomplished. Sure of her place in the world. Maybe Abby had been all those things herself once, before everything started falling apart. But perhaps the cracks had always been there.
“Well, it’s good you have people looking out for you here.” She says earnestly, and he frowns at her again, like she’s trying to catch him out. “I’m serious, Frank. It’s important. Isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He agrees. “Everyone’s been great.”
This doesn’t quite ring true, but she decides to drop the subject.
“I should let you get back to work.” She says, standing. "Don’t forget, everyone’s coming over at eight. For the party, remember?"
He nods, lips pursed. "I remember."
She sighs as she picks up her bag. "Don't look like that.”
"I'm not looking like anything.”
He sounded like Tanner. Or did Tanner sound like him?
“It was your idea, remember.”
Frank loved a grand gesture. When he followed through, it was quite something to behold. It was probably one of the reasons she had married him.
“And I also said we should pay for catering. To give you one less thing to do.” He says, his tone measured.
She’s not sure why she’s needling him like this. Maybe sometimes she just missed the old Frank who enjoyed a good argument. Maybe she just wants a reaction from him.
God, maybe she was the one who really needed help.
“I know.” She says gently, deciding not to mention that they hardly had money to spare these days. “But you try explaining that to my mom. Can you even imagine?”
Her mom was the one who had told him she wanted a Birkin for her birthday. Sure, she wanted a Birkin – in the same way Penny wanted a pet koala.
One day, she would stop trying to live up to her mother’s idea of what her life should look like.
He gives a huff of laughter. “Point taken.” Then he looks at her seriously. “You sure you have everything under control?”
“Don’t I always?” She says, with a lightness she doesn’t quite feel.
He smiles, reaching out to squeeze her fingers. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” He goes to push open the door. "Let me walk you out."
"It's fine."
"Please, Abby."
Right. Had to keep up appearances.
And the thing is, she doesn’t really want to fight. She’s tired. And she’s never been very good at saying no to him.
"Sure."
She hears a familiar voice call her name as they pass the front desk.
“Abby! It’s been too long.”
She turns and relaxes into a smile. “Good to see you, Dana.”
“Do I even want to know?” Dana says with a sigh, frowning at her arm, then directs her disapproving gaze at Frank. “Don’t tell me it was that damn dog.”
“Not exactly.” He says mildly.
Dana scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Say no more.”
“Dr Langdon, we need you in here.” A nurse she doesn’t recognise calls out from one of the nearby rooms.
Abby glances up at him. Those magic words, we need you. He looked like Ziggy when he saw a squirrel.
“Gotta go.” He says brightly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Dana, would you…”
“Of course. Abby’s safe with me.” Dana says with a wink, beckoning her over as he dashes off.
They both watch him go.
“Tough year, hm?”
Abby sighs. “Yeah.”
“You doing okay, kid?” Dana asks, looking at her carefully. “Aside from the arm, I mean.”
“I’m good.” She says, as convincingly as she can. Maybe if she said it, that would make it true. “We’re pulling through, I think.”
“You’re doing the right thing. Just know that.” Dana tells her firmly. “I’m very proud of you both.”
She smiles. “Thanks, Dana.”
In another life, Dana Evans is her mother and everything is different.
“So. I heard Langdon’s wife was here earlier.” Santos says idly, leaning on the desk next to Mel’s. “Isn’t it kind of twisted, getting your work wife to treat your actual wife?”
“It was supposed to be McKay, but you needed her help with something.” Mel says as she continues typing.
“Oh, yeah. That was a fun one.”
Mel saves the chart and turns to Santos. “What do you mean…work wife?”
She shrugs. “You two are kind of joined at the hip.” When Mel still looks confused, she continues. “It’s like, Whitaker’s my work…cousin, or something, you know.”
Mel frowns. “Whitaker’s your roommate.”
Santos sighs dramatically. “Anyway. What’s she like? The mysterious Mrs Langdon.”
“She was really nice.” Mel says, then pauses to consider the question. “Very pretty.” And tired, she thinks, but she’s not about to share this.
“Figures. Blonde?”
“Brunette.”
“Huh.” Santos nods slowly as she digests this, then lifts an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“She was just…normal. But in a good way.” Like she could fit in effortlessly anywhere, with anyone, if she needed to. Some people just had that quality, Mel thinks sadly.
Santos gives her a look. “You’re killing me here, Mel.”
“It was really very uneventful.”
“Okay. Keep your secrets.” She says wryly.
Mel just sighs and turns back to her screen. Santos scoots her stool a little closer.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It’s just – Dr Langdon seemed kind of…mad, when I told him I had treated Abby.”
Santos folds her arms. “Do you need me to fight him for you?”
“Thank you, but no.” Mel says politely. “I think…I’m just taking it personally, but it’s probably nothing to do with me. Right?”
“Whatever shit he has going on – and I’m sure there’s plenty – he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
She was more bothered by the fact that Abby had never heard of her. Why would he never talk about her at home?
“Look, Mel, I know you like him and that is…your right.” Santos says grimly. “But people around here will trample all over you if you let them. Especially someone like you.”
“What…” Mel starts to protest.
“Because you’re nice.” Santos cuts in. “More than nice, you’re a genuinely good person. Which is kind of rare, you know. So, you have to watch out for the people who will try and suck that goodness out of you.”
“We’re friends. It’s not like that.” Mel tells her gently. “He’s not Garcia.”
Santos leans back and makes a face. “Who mentioned her? Not me.”
Seeing Abby at work had thrown him off. His two words colliding had made everything feel off kilter. Keeping everything separate was what made it feel manageable.
She had made him feel bad for offering to throw this party, and the worst part was, she was right. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn’t everything?
She did too much. She always had, and he knew that now. Maybe before, she had been okay with that. But that was before.
Things were different now, and that was his fault.
He decides he needs to talk to Mel. To apologise for earlier, yes, but also because he knows it will make him feel better. She seemed to have that effect on him.
Finally, there’s a slow moment where he can go looking for her. When he can’t see her in the ED, he heads to the ambulance bay. As expected, he finds her there, leaning against the wall.
“Hey.”
She looks up at him with a smile. A slightly tentative one. He decides to come straight out with it.
"I just wanted to say – earlier, I wasn't doubting your ability as a doctor. I would never do that.” He tells her firmly. “I just...thought it might be weird, I guess.”
"You treated Becca." She points out. "I wanted you to treat Becca." She adds, more quietly.
But that was different. Even if neither of them could find the words to explain why.
"But don't worry – it wasn't weird.” She assures him quickly. “It was fine, actually. And it was really nice. Meeting Abby.”
"She said you were great."
"Oh." Mel smiles in the way she always does when she receives praise for her work.
“Knew you would be.” He adds. As he had hoped, her smile broadens. It lights up her entire face and for a moment, he can’t look away. Could it really be so selfish, if making her happy made him happy too? “And I know I was being short with you before – I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She shrugs this off. “You were worried. I get it.”
Yeah, but about all the wrong things, he thinks.
He had been so freaked out by the prospect of Abby and Mel meeting and now he’s not even sure what he was so nervous about.
They both seemed unfazed by it and life went on as before.
It was almost as if he had been hoping something would happen. What, exactly, he couldn’t say.
He’d already blown up his life once. You don’t get two runs at that kind of thing.
He realises that Mel is watching his face carefully, trying to read his emotions. He’s too used to having his guard down with her.
“Are you okay?” She asks with a concerned tilt of her head.
“You heard about this party later?”
She nods.
“My idea.” He admits with a wince. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just overcompensating for everything I've put everyone through and it's just...not working." He sighs. “It’s not enough, or it’s too obvious. I don’t know.”
"I'm sure your family don't see it that way.” She says softly. “They'll just be happy you're there."
If only that were true. His in-laws had been more generous than they had needed to be over the last year, with both their time and their money. But he was under no illusions about who they were doing it for, and what they thought of him.
It turned out that when he was no longer the picture-perfect son-in-law, the responsible provider, they didn’t think much of him at all.
And maybe that was fair. Maybe it was their right. They were just looking out for Abby and the kids. But it still made him feel like shit.
For one insane moment, he thinks about inviting Mel. It wouldn’t be much fun for her, of course, but it would improve the evening for him.
He really needed to pull himself together.
He manages a half-hearted smile. “Yeah. I hope so.”
Mel suddenly looks agitated, like she can’t decide if she’s nervous or excited.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, actually.”
“Go for it.” He could do with the distraction.
“Last week, Dr Shen asked me out.”
Of course it would be Shen. He was calm, competent, easy going. He was even a history buff. He’d be perfect for Mel.
Everyone liked Shen. He liked Shen. But he finds himself suddenly overwhelmed with an intense dislike for him.
“Dr Langdon?” Mel’s voice pulls him back into the moment.
“Mm?” He can feel himself sweating. It was warm out here, but it wasn’t that warm.
“I said no, but it got me thinking.”
He pauses, then decides to focus on one thing at a time. “You said no?” It comes out more sharply than he intends.
Mel flushes, looking somewhere between embarrassed and offended. “I really like Dr Shen, but not in that way.”
“Right.” Langdon nods, burying his hands in his pockets. “And, you know, he’s an attending.”
“Oh, that’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m a med student. And we’re not even on the same shift.” She explains breezily. “You just have to declare it to HR. I looked up the policy. For…information.”
“Sure.” He says, desperately trying to find something to cling onto. He felt like his mind was in a tailspin. “You said…it got you thinking?”
Mel nods, looking reflective now. “Becca spends a lot of time with Adam now, so I have some free time when I’m not working.” She says, her eyes fixed on his. “Samira said I should maybe find a class to go to, or something.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”
“There’s this pottery studio near my apartment.”
He nods. He’s just glad she’s not asking him for dating advice.
“My mom loved pottery.” She says, slightly abruptly. She looks out at the ambulance bay, her expression shifting. “There were a lot of weird-shaped bowls around the house when we were kids.”
She never talks about her parents. He assumes they’re both dead, but he doesn’t know. Doesn’t like to ask. Doesn’t know how, if he’s honest.
She would probably love to go to a stupid family party.
She sighs. “I just don’t know.”
“Might be worth a try.”
She smiles up at him. “Yeah. Maybe.” A distant siren blares. “I should head back in.”
“Right behind you.”