Chapter Text
Outside of the PTMC, Mel craved structure and routine. Inside the four walls of her workplace however, she thrived in the chaos. The buzz from the bright lights and constantly beeping monitors became soothing background noise, she found it easy to juggle her caseload, and she had carved out her safe spaces if it ever got overwhelming. It wasn’t a routine in the traditional sense, but, four years in, she almost always knew what to expect. So, when she arrived to a quiet Friday morning, she felt her guard go up. It raised even higher when Robby asked her to cover chairs. Not that she didn’t have her own system for triage too, just that out in the waiting room, she was mostly left alone with her thoughts which only served to make the bright fluorescents above even brighter.
As she worked through the cases, her thoughts drifted to home. She knew he would be up by now, on his way to pick up the kids to take them to school, reluctantly letting Tanner plug into the AUX to listen to music made in this millennium. Penny would giggle from the backseat as they argued over ‘real music’ until Tanner would relent and queue up a single classic rock song. She didn’t know what came next for him until she returned home, every day for him a new adventure he could report back on in the evenings as she traded his stories for her own.
By midday, she had made swift work of clearing a portion of the waiting room. The day was passing slowly, a steady stream of walk-ins keeping her busy but not on her toes. It was agony. It really didn’t help that every time she bought someone back who needed a bed, she heard increased commotion from incoming traumas. A madness she longed for before she returned to the ease of triage.
As she took a patient with chest pain through to a bed, her eyes searched for his automatically, knowing it was silly when he wasn’t even there that day. Instead her eyes found Cassie’s, who was just exiting Trauma One looking in bad shape. Her bangs stuck to her face with sweat, her eyes hollow as they landed in her direction. Something inside Mel’s stomach twisted as she approached. She’d been on the receiving end of that look before and both times it had ended with loss. With her tendency to jump to the worst case scenario, when she saw no patient in the trauma bay ahead of her, she couldn’t help but conjure images of freezer doors and cold grey skin.
“Shit, Mel I’m so sorry nobody came to get you. We just went on auto pilot. There’s something, god this is hard-” Cassie’s voice hitched, words sticking to her larynx. Seeing Cassie emotional was a very bad sign. Mel could feel her breathing becoming shallow, her head swimming in the possibilities of who had probably flatlined. The board held no update for her but she knew she couldn’t cry, not when her hands were still wrapped around the handles of a wheelchair holding her patient. As if sensing her oncoming panic or reading the very obvious signs of it on her face, Cassie called Perlah over to take Mel’s patient to an empty room. A soft hum buzzed from her lips, her thumbs pressed to her pressure points on her wrists and her toes flexed against her seamless socks.
“You don’t need to panic. He’s on his way for an MRI now and his sats are stable. He isn’t awake yet but initial assessment was good. We patched up the lacerations and Garcia cleared him for any surgery. He was lucky.” Those words washed over her like a bucket of ice water, a feeling she was familiar with after students in her med school forced her to do the ice bucket challenge. It was entirely unpleasant and filled her with dread. “It’s Langdon, he was in an accident.”
She suddenly missed the stability of the wheelchair she had entered with, desperately needing something to hold her up. She felt her chest tighten as the world around her faded from view. She barely registered the gentle hands that guided her to a seat, couldn’t see through the tears already spilling from her eyes and couldn’t hear through the buzzing in her ears. The part of her brain that was still working rationally, that hadn’t given in to the overwhelming stimuli around her, was running through all the scenarios. One particularly horrible one, one with tiny limbs crushed in the debris, cheery songs still playing as giggles were cut short by an oncoming vehicle, snapped her back to the world around her. Her wide, scared eyes met Dana’s as she fought to gain control of herself.
“We need the trauma bays but when we bring him back in, he’s going into South Fifteen. He’s the most stubborn bastard I know, he’s going to be okay kiddo.” Usually, Mel hated being called kid but from Dana it felt different. It wasn’t undermining. It was gentle and kind, a name she used for all the younger staff around here. Today it felt different. Today it increased her worries and made her hyper focused on the awful images running through her head.
“Tanner and Penny. He was supposed to take them to school. Are they here? Are they hurt?” Her voice was wavering despite her attempts to regain composure. Tears still streaked down her cheeks, but relief washed through her as the nurse shook her head.
“Abby had left messages on his cell. He never made it to pick them up. They’re safe.” She gave Mel’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as a sigh of relief escaped her lips. It was a small comfort that did little to ease her other thousands of worries. Now that she was locked back into the world, every movement was drawing her attention, searching every gurney that wheeled by. She could feel every eye on her sitting in the hub and she knew she had to move.
She headed for the lockers first, grabbing her airpods before leaning down to his. Opening it up, she found what she was looking for. His old grey hoodie that he left in there only for her. Despite mostly living in his locker, it held his scent, an added comfort to the warmth it was there to provide. It wasn’t how she imagined he smelt right now, antiseptic with iron mixed in, the scent most patients had after a few hours here. Instead it was woodsy from his cologne, sweet from the maple syrup pancakes he treated himself to on days off. The pancakes he would have eaten this morning. She pulled the zip all the way up, inhaling the familiar smell and picking up on the traces of stale smoke from the cigarettes he occasionally bummed from Dana on the rough days, the ones she lets him think he hides from her. It felt like a warm hug and it smelled like home.
With nothing left to distract her, she made her way to South Fifteen, taking a seat in the empty room and turning on the ocean sounds to block out any noise. She wasn’t sure if she had been sat there for minutes or hours when he was finally wheeled in and carefully transferred to the bed. Every fibre in her body tensed up as she took in the sight before her. The bruises were already beginning to darken against his pale skin. Tiny cuts and scrapes covered whatever skin wasn’t touched by bruising. The lacerations had been stitched well but she knew if she had been in charge, they would have been meticulous. She was certain someone was to the side of her, telling her what would happen next, but she couldn’t hear any of it. Full concentration was fixed on the man lying in front of her.
The doctor eventually left and she moved her chair closer to his side. Her hand found his, his wedding band pressing cooly to her fingertips. Her free hand came up to her own ring, worn around a chain on her neck when she was working. The fidget bands had been his suggestion. He had beamed with pride as he told her he’d figured out the perfect way of making the symbol of their marriage practical. He had insisted that he was happy to do it for her, but she found he would absentmindedly spin the band far more than she did, especially when he was stuck on a tricky case. Right now, she would give anything to have his nervous energy filling the room, fidgeting with his wedding ring or bouncing on the balls of his feet. Instead she was left with the steady beep of his heart monitor, his body too still in sleep, his hand that wasn’t squeezing hers back and his eyes that wouldn’t open.
“Franklin Mason Langdon I need you to wake up. That’s an order from your doctor.” Her words were commanding but her voice was barely above a whisper. “If not, I’m bringing Santos in here to check you over and she won’t be gentle.” She let her mind fill in the sound of his laughter, a sound that was rare, that he seemed to reserve only for her.
As she sat, her mind ran over all of the things she was going to have to sort out. Penny and Tanner were staying with them this weekend, and Frank was supposed to be off today to look after their goldendoodle Rocky. The dog walker needed calling and as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn’t sit by his side all day when she was meant to be on the clock. The thoughts kept coming and were starting to overwhelm her being trapped in her head. She reached into the pocket of her scrubs to find her notebook and her pen, scribbling down as complete a list as she could manage.
1. Track down Robby for an update
2. Call Abby with said update and check on Tanner and Penny
3. Call the dog walker to see if she can pick up Rocky
3a. If Britney is unavailable call Carol from next door
3b. If Carol also is unavailable call Abby again to see if she can watch him
3c. If Abby can’t take him, think of another solution
4. Call Becca to rearrange pizza and movie night
5. Relieve McKay from triage
She reluctantly left the room, doing a lap of the ED to find Robby but finding herself coming up short. She asked at the nurse’s station, but nobody had seen him in a while. She knew he was probably busy, although nothing she could think of was more important than Frank Langdon lying in a hospital bed. When she got back, she was surprised to see Cassie with a pen in her hand scribbling at Mel’s list. “Doctor McKay?”
Cassie looked up towards her, less distressed than she had been a few hours ago but still concerned. “Just making a few changes to your list here. Your shift is officially over.”
Mel tilted her head in confusion, glancing at her watch quickly to clarify the time, certain that she hadn’t been say there for seven hours already. “It’s only 2pm, I have another five hours.”
“Nope. Triage is manageable thanks to your excellent work earlier, so much so that I have had time to come back here to pee and check on Langdon here. You stay here in this room, go to the break room, go home even. But whatever you do, don’t you dare log into a terminal, or look at a chart unless it’s his. I know I can’t stop you from doing that.” Cassie placed the pen neatly back on the notebook, lightly nudging Langdon’s shoulder with her fist before stepping towards the door. “And hey, if Britney can’t take Rocky, let me know, I’ll go pick that little screwball up. Harrison loves him and my dad can take him for walks in the day until you’re back up to it. It’ll do the old man good to get out.” Mel half-heartedly returned Cassie’s smile, thanking her for the offer. Once she was alone, she did a quick read of his charts, sending an update to Abby before returning to his side.
After that, it was a revolving door of visitors. Perlah stood vigil for a while when she came to check his IV fluids and his vitals. Donnie came in under the guise of repaying a bet from the Penguin’s game the night before, but Mel noticed the photo he placed on his bedside. The one of Frank and his kids that usually lived on the family photo wall in the breakroom. Santos whispered something mildly threatening in his ear, but Mel could only pick up ‘If you don’t wake up I swear I’ll kill you myself’. Every half an hour, Cassie or Dana popped their head in, bringing an array of items from steaming hot tea to a slightly stale sandwich.
Garcia showing up was when she started to panic. Did he need surgery suddenly? Had she missed something when she had been compulsively checking his charts? Had she squeezed his hand too tightly for hours on end and stopped his circulation? Yolanda stood at the foot of his bed for a moment, eyes laser focused on his perfectly still body.
“It’s disconcerting when he’s quiet.” Mel nodded in agreement. Even when they sat in comfortable silence at home he was never still like this. Always lively and always expressive. “I just wish there was some way I could- fuck I mean if I could stick my scalpel in him and wake him up.” Mel froze at her words, her guard up and her eyes trained on her. “Relax Barbie, I won’t stab him, yet. But if he doesn’t wake up-"
“Santos already threatened him with death if he doesn’t.” Mel relaxed as she interrupted the thought, not particularly wanting to hear any more threats on his life today. Not when she was still uncertain if he would wake up and come back to her.
“That’s my girl. It also goes without saying but-”
“You were never here. You definitely aren’t worried about your best friend Langdon and you aren’t a big secret softy at heart. Got it.” For the first time in hours, Mel felt a smile twitch at the corner of her lips as Garcia’s eyebrows knit together in surprise. It was nice stepping into his shoes to verbally spar with her, it felt like his presence was there. She still, after all this time, didn’t understand why they had to snark at each other when they were clearly such close friends
“I liked it better when you feared confrontation. Call me if anything changes.” With that, Garcia left and Mel found herself checking his charts once again, willing for anything to have changed. She studied his MRI, read over the notes that had been filled in hours ago, hating that there was absolutely nothing else she could do but wait. Then there was the one report she had been avoiding all this time. The toxicology report sat in his file, making the anger rise in her every time she laid eyes on it. She didn’t need to open it to know what was inside, trusting Frank implicitly. Realistically, she knew it was just standard testing, but she couldn’t help but channel her anger at Robby. Robby who still refused to set foot in the room and face her.
She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she found herself drifting to sleep, finally giving way to the exhaustion she felt. People still came in and out of the room, checking on the both of them, waking Mel briefly from her slumber just enough that she noticed day shift turn to night before she let sleep envelop her again.
The sensation of a hand squeezing hers back woke her for good. Within seconds she was alert, watching his eyes blink open, cursing herself that she hadn’t dimmed the lights to make his transition to alertness easier. She bought his hand up to her lips, gently kissing his knuckles before resting it back down onto the bed.
“Frank, you’re in the hospital, you were in an accident.” As she spoke, his eyes blearily looked around the room, missing his usual sparkle as they eventually landed on her. That’s when she knew something was seriously wrong. It took him a moment to focus up and when he did, his hand pulled away.
The crinkle at the bridge of his nose indicated confusion. The way his lips turned down as he searched the room for something, or someone, else. The unfamiliarity in his eyes. All of it combined into an expression that made her heart sink. “Has someone called my wife? Is Abby here?”
And that was the thing that broke her.