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Whitaker thought the amount of betting that was done in the PTMC wasn’t a problem, per se, but it was certainly an amount unexpected for a hospital. That being said, he was not complaining. Betting on random shit seemed to boost morale(?) and hey, if there was a chance to make some money? Count him in. In most cases, he lost money, but there was still a chance, he supposes.
The only time he’d ever won anything was when the infamous Betting-Board-Dry-Spell had struck Pittsburgh, which lasted for several months. Which was enough time for people to get desperate and to start betting on how many weird food combinations one of the nurses, (who was pregnant) would eat in a day. (4, if you were wondering. One of her meals was herb-and-garlic cream cheese on a pickled asparagus with *one* salt and vinegar chip stacked on top. Ah, the miracle of life.) The “bet” was a small one that no more than 10 people participated in. Not even Santos, who had become quite the fiend for these bets in the last few months, because betting on something “that fucking stupid and idiotic” (Thanks Trinity) was “not worth her time.” (Thanks again) But he’d won about $50 so, not that stupid.
Be that as it may, betting on his co-workers personal lives had always rubbed him the wrong way. Ironically, these were the bets Trinity loved the most. Getting under peoples’ skin and putting her nose where it didn’t belong, as well as being an active participant (and starter) of 90% of the “hot gossip” running around this department, seemed to be her specialty. (Other than practicing emergency medicine, of course.)
Betting on stuff like that rarely happened. After all, nobody brought their personal baggage to work, and if they did, they certainly didn’t want or mean to. The last invasive bet they’d had was on how long Javadi’s crush on Mateo was gonna last. It had actually become pretty big, with the potluck totalling up to around $900. Dr. Shamsi eventually found out, shut the whole thing down, and gave the lecture of a lifetime to Dr. Robby. Not publicly, of course. But Dr. Shamsi had led Robby away to some vacant room, and Robby came out 20 minutes later looking almost as hopeless and tired as he was the day he left for his sabbatical.
Staring at the whiteboard, he bets 20$ that the high-speed police chase currently being broadcast live, would crash closer to Presby, and that the driver was drunk. Ahmad smiles as he takes the cash.
“Huckleberry!” Trinity calls out, reasonably irritated considering it’s 6PM and they’ve been working since 7AM.
“Patient in south sixteen. Dudes got some gnarly ass animal bites up and down his arm. Says he got attacked but I’m a thousand percent sure this dumbass fought a bunch of strays on purpose. Come on.” She gestures with a nod for him to follow. He does.
Passing by the nurses station, he sees Dr. Langdon, and of course, Mel. She’s perched at one of the computers, and he hovers over her. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Whittaker doesn’t know when exactly he’d noticed that, but he’s also now realizing that when one of them was around, then the other wasn’t far behind. It was getting to a point where it was almost weird if they were apart. He’s leaned on the desk, the front of him facing her as she types. He doesn’t say anything, just watches her. He stares, lips parted open like he was breathing her in. He looks relaxed; a calmness enveloping his presence that was out of place for his usually eager (impatient) demeanour. She says something, his lips gently curve upwards in response, and it looks as natural as blinking. He places a hand on her shoulder, hovering even closer to read whatever she wrote. He gives her a nod after a moment, and she mimics the gesture.
When she finishes, he then points to the trauma board, and reads a patients name aloud. She says something, and her eyebrows furrow, openly broadcasting her disapproval at his obvious cherry-picking —he had that in common with Santos— He just nudges her, saying something he imagines is both an inside thing and painfully witty, but Mel just grins. They walk away, shoulders bumping one another the whole time, and yet they don’t seem to try and get any further apart.
He blinks, following Trinity and trying to ignore looking any deeper into that interaction.
———
Unlike Princess and Perlah, Dana could not care less about workplace gossip. It wasn’t something she ever actively sought out. Being on her A-game, ordering people around, and knowing how to keep every single damn person in line was enough of a job. As long as you could do your job and respect your co-workers, she did not care what you did in your personal life. This attitude did not stop the rumour mill from always getting back to her, somehow. Like she was in the middle of the road, her hands up in air, and the rumour mill was really a semi-truck that couldn’t (wouldn’t) slow down. All she’s learned from the never-ending cacophony that was the rumour mill, which was also probably the root cause of her grey hairs, is that everyone has or does weird bullshit, patients and doctors alike. 30 years at the job’ll do that to you.
Behind the nurses’ station, she’s got her glasses on, as she skims over a patient chart. Langdon must sense that she’s busy, because she can see him out of the corner of her eye, approaching. Seriously, that kid and his inconvenient timing is genuinely impressive. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he did it on purpose.
“How’s your day going?”
“Ain’t got no time for small talk, kid. Whaddya want? Better yet, Whaddya need?”
“Can’t I just see how you’re doing?” He sighs, scanning the busy ER before his gaze then flicks back to her. He places his forearms on the desk. “Do you know when Mel’s next day off is?”
“Do I look like I have the mental capacity to memorize everyone’s schedule off the top of my head? Why do you even need to know?”
He breathes out like she’s somehow supposed to have read his mind and already know.
“Her birthday is coming up but I know she won’t take the day off. She won’t tell me when her next day off is because I said I was gonna plan something for her on that day, so we could celebrate.”
“Wouldn’t she want to spend the day with her sister?”
“Yeah, Becca is obviously invited too. She’s actually taken a liking to me.” He says, and she can’t tell by his tone is he’s being smug or if he’s just genuinely excited about that fact. Knowing him, it’s probably a boiling pot of several sentiments jammed-packed together into some sort of Langdon special.
“I’m sure they’ll both appreciate you inserting yourself into their special day.”
“You know, I’m actually a great gift-giver and activity-planner”
Dana’s head cocks slightly to the side, and she raises a brow.
“Whoever gave you those titles was lying. I’m not telling you when she’s free, it’s her business. Now quit harassing your co-workers and get back to work.” He audibly groans, but nevertheless, he complies, walking off into the ED with his hands behind his head. His elbows jut out on each side of him and he looks like a male peacock. Except instead of doing a beautiful, ritualistic mating dance for his lover-of-interest, he mostly stares at her for most of the day and invites her to every case he has. And apparently bothers Dana for her schedule now. Great.
Despite the shit she gives him, she’s proud. He’s worked hard to get to where he is now, and he’s brave for coming back to work under the circumstances he was in. He’s one tough kid. The higher you are, the harder you fall. Langdon was pretty damn high when he fell from his ladder, right onto his ass. He’s put in the effort and done all the steps needed to be back here. Screw whatever Robby thinks. She can’t keep repeating how that man should’ve just gone to therapy and not some “sabbatical” (She mostly referred to it as his midlife-crisis-adventure). Langdons’ here to stay, and he’s been doing a great job in the following months of his return. Even though she seriously wouldn’t recommended crushing on your junior resident right after a whole rehab stint. And a fresh divorce.
She’ll give him a pass on that, though, since she’s pretty sure that marriage should’ve ended long ago. Definitely before he got his family a something-doodle because a four year old promised he’d take care of it.
Besides, he could be doing a lot worse than falling for a lovely doctor with a heart of gold.
Mel is a kind person, more sensitive than most. Dana tries to be gentler with her than majority of the others. Not because she doesn’t think she can’t handle the job, but because it’s clear Mel gets more easily overwhelmed with emotion than the average person. She is someone deserving of a bit of accommodation, and might just need a difference of approach when it comes to encouragement and support. It’s taken awhile for Dana to understand her, but she’s confident she’s got a steady handle on her character now. She’s observant, always has been when it comes to people. Additionally, Mel wears her heart on her sleeve, which makes Dana’s job much easier.
“Dana?” Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
“Evening, Mel.” Dana smiles, and takes the clipboard from her hands. “Whaddya need?”
———
“You know, incompetency isn’t a good look on you.”
“Forever pleasant you are, Yoyo.”
She knew today wasn’t a good day to be extra dicky to Langdon, but God, was it easy to do so. Secretly, she’s grown fond of him. He was a good doctor, and always down to banter with her. Trading quips with him while a patients life is in their hands may not be tasteful, but it certainly is amusing. Or would usually be, except the Juliet to his Romeo isn’t here today, so now he’s lacking the usual fire in his insults and dismissing hers more. Dick. He’s in the midst of pulling his blue, hospital-stationed gloves off as the patient on the table gets rolled down to surgery, when he glances out the glass doors, and abruptly freezes.
Jesse turns to her, raising a brow. She’s always liked him as well; laid-back and competent. Both important traits to have in the medical field. Langdon may have the second trait but he certainly is not well-versed in the first one, given the way his jaw just went slack, his pupils dilated, and his eyebrows have raised at the sight of— oh.
One Dr. King was stood several feet away from trauma 2. He quickly pushes past the glass door that separates them.
“I thought you called in sick?” Langdon says, like it’s his business. Maybe it is. An unspoken rule in their codependency on one another; everything you are doing I need to know.
“Yeah I— well, Becca was feeling sick this morning but it cleared up around lunchtime, and she wanted to go the centre. I.. didn’t really have anything else to do, so I called Robby and asked if could come in.”
“Should’ve enjoyed your day off,” he sighs, and Garcia wonders how a competent doctor showing up to a busy hospital unexpectedly is somehow an inconvenience for him, “Could’ve watched Interstellar, finally. With all that free time.” Ah, he was disappointed she wasn’t dorking out, instead of wanting to be productive.
“Oh, you’re so right! I’ve been meaning to get to it—“ Garcia walks away after that, heading upstairs. She decides Langdon is sometimes better when Mel’s not there. She softens him too much.
———
Dayshift isn’t Parker’s thing.
It’s fine. She knows everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. She’s no exception.
Something about the atmosphere just feels almost lackluster. She’s got a “shut up and do your job” mindset, which contradicts the affinity she’s garnered for the nightshift crew. There’s a rare alikeness found with people in the nocturnal. A complete understanding of the simple want to just get through the night, to see the sun shine once more.
It’s a pain to admit, but the night shift and its people have wormed their way into her heart.
Still, she does prefer to keep her work and personal life separate. Or she atleast tries to. Some people slip through the cracks.
Take Mel King, for example.
Mel is too kind for her own good. It’s a good quality, a great quality even, but it comes with a price; You are far more susceptible to people’s misdirected cruelty, and become accustomed to the insulting predisposition the masses have to your intelligence. This conjecture had been further proven the day of Mel’s deposition, when the morning after it, Mel had still been relatively shaken from whatever had transpired in the court room the night prior. Parker herself had dealt with the same shitty lawyers, but she was firm in her choices and had trust in her character.
Not to dismiss Mel in any capacity; She was a good doctor. Made good medical decisions and trusted her gut. She was not easily swayed, but she was easily wary. She was clever in the sense that she was humble enough to understand that even the smartest people make mistakes, and you should never not take all sides into consideration, in any given situation.
This was a byproduct of her kindness; refusing to place herself above anybody. To make anyone lesser than. It’s also why she’s grown fond of Mel. That kindness isn’t a weakness, but it is something she’d like to protect. It’s a weed that’s sprout so deep in Mel’s being that if you remove it from the foundations of her, she’d be a completely different person.
She’s grown fond of the woman, is what she’s really trying to say. And she’s certain Langdon has as well. Being on day-shift has made her more ‘in-the-know’ of various workplace dynamics, and they are certainly a duo that’s hard to ignore. Especially as of right now, when Langdon has been staring daggers at Mel’s patient ever since he’s been out of the danger zone. She’s only aware of the current situation because the patient is both hers and Mel’s. Although, Mel is clearly the main object of the patients desires, which is clearly all Langdon cares about.
“I like your braid.” The patient, Brandon Hendricks, states. He’s got a russet sort of hair colour going on, with a darker chestnut at his roots. A little cadaverous, which did make sense since he’d lost a lot of blood. —he was recently (lightly) stabbed— He’s got dozens of freckles littered across his arms, and his eyes are an eminent dark brown, almost black. He’s also got no game, which is notably his most interesting characteristic.
“Thank you!” Mel says, brightly. She’s sure Mel has caught onto his advances by now. She wasn’t that dense. He’s been flirting with her since the knife was still lodged into his arm, and the pain meds he was given have only loosened his tongue. She doesn’t necessarily seem opposed. If anything, she seems happy about it; she’s a little giddier than usual.
Mel and Parker both exit shortly after that interaction. The patient really just needed rest now. There wasn’t much two experienced doctors could do in there except waste time. Mel gets pulled into a trauma shortly after exiting, and Parker scans the board, looking to move onto the next patient.
“Evening, Dr. Ellis,” Langdon greets. “How’s day shift treating you?” He stands beside her and crosses his arms. She hopes none of the nurses think they’re both loitering.
“Fine. I like night shift more. The doctors there don’t make small talk.” He scoffs.
“Now I know that’s a lie. With Dr. Shen on board? Please.” She can tell by the way he pauses that he has more to say. With her luck, it’s something stupid.
“So, that patient in trauma earlier, Brandon, right?” He asks.
“Yeah. 33 year old male with a knife lodged into the side of his arm.”
“Yeah,” He clicks his tongue. “He was laying it on thick, wasn’t he?”
Yep, definitely something stupid. “What, you mean when he was putting the moves on Dr. King? Wouldn’t be the first time a patient acts like that.” Wouldn’t be the last, either.
“Like he doesn’t have respect for medical professionals?”
“No,” she raises a brow, since when did he become such an advocate? “Unapologetically Forward.”
Langdon was an okay guy. She knew more about his business than she really wanted to. Both because of rumours, and the fact that she was an unfortunate witness in a lot of it. Not directly; she wasn’t exactly standing there when.. whatever went down happened, but it’s not like Robby has a good poker face. And it’s not like Langdon does either. Whatever happened clings to them like soot, and they’re dragging it around all over the hospital. It’s a miracle she doesn’t rapid-fire an abundance of sneezes whenever she’s in their vicinity. And, God— don’t even get her started on whatever-the-fuck beef he and Santos have got going on.
“Do you think Mel would ever go out with a guy like that?” He looks a little sheepish when he says it, but the shamefaced look also comes with a small tilt of the brows. A gesture that asks the silent question of ‘also, do you think I’m better than him?’
Langdon was an okay guy. Really, he was. She actually liked him a lot more than her average co-worker. He was sarcastic in the same way as her, cynical too sometimes.
But right now, in this moment, she really does miss night shift. Especially the people.
———
Staring at the mirror, unblinking and barely present, she wonders, briefly, if Robby is right. If emergency medicine really wasn’t for her. Her patient, the one she just lost, was a seventeen-year old girl with a bright future, achievable dreams, and a heart so full of hope. Surgeries end in death all the time. Nonetheless, it doesn’t make you any less angry, when nothing goes wrong and the patient—the person on the table dies anyway.
Take a break, Dr. Mohan is what Langdon had said after they’d called it. She would laugh if she wasn’t so numb. A five minute break wouldn’t change anything. Not the outcome of the patient, or the newly etched Pancreaticoduodenectomy shaped scar her chest. Even so, she takes her break and steps outside the bathroom and steps right back into the ER, staring at fluorescent lights and the headache inducing eggshell white of the place. She needed a breath of fresh air. She heads to the ambulance bay, keeping her head low. Being caught red-eyed and sniffly at work after losing a patient is something she’d rather not also have to deal with right now. Especially by Robby.
The chill of the outside hits her instantly, and It reminds her that the day moves forward. No matter what happens in the ER.
Several steps ahead she sees Mel and Langdon. They were both there when the patient coded, and she’s sure Mel feels the same way she does. Despite it not being her patient. Mel’s deep-rooted empathy for everything and everyone is something she feels she can relate to. Despite Mel’s.. quirks she knows Mel has a kind heart and good head on her shoulders. She was probably one of Mohan’s favourite residents. (Although— she really had to learn how to talk to patients. Everytime she briefs a patient with Mel she almost always freaks the patient out with how blunt she is, and the way she describes diagnoses without an ounce of sugar-coating. Mohan can’t even count how many times she has to step in and soften the blow for a panicking patient.)
Langdon.. is an interesting case. Post-rehab Langdon isn’t necessarily calmer, just knows now that life doesn’t always need to be so rushed. He’s more tuned into the process of things, and doesn’t necessarily charge ahead to get to the outcome. He’s more attentive to not only his patients feelings, but his co-workers too. The first few weeks after he came back he was less sure of himself, and it’s been a nice development to see him slowly getting more comfortable in his competency and skills. He’s confident now; like pre-rehab Langdon, except with less sarcasm and assholery.
His relationship with Mel has certainly been a factor in his development. She’s noticed he’s different with her; a soft gentleness reserved for her and her alone. Especially in moments like these. When he’s got a hand on her, either on her back, shoulder, or arm, and his gaze is locked onto her eyes, following wherever they dart to. When they’re alone, and there’s a delicate quiet threatening to be torn apart into chaotic loudness in each passing second, and still, their only focus is each-other. When despite them both having doubts within themselves, they always have the utmost confidence in one another. It’s admirable, really. She can’t imagine the vulnerability it takes to form a partnership like that. She almost feels lonely just looking at them. Especially when Langdons hand that was resting on her arm reaches around her, tucking her into his side. The gesture includes a level of tenderness unexpected from him. Mel isn’t phased at all.
She can hear snippets in whatever he’s saying, the typical things you say whenever someone’s lost a patient. But she can tell. She can tell he really means it. And Mel must know he does too, as a small smile fights its way onto her face. He looks relieved at the sight. It makes Samira smile too, watching two people so… Enamoured with one another? Huh. She’s almost forgotten the taut coil tethered together by heavy tendrils of dread in her stomach just by watching them. She’s reminded that despite death, people love. And isn’t that something?
Whatever they have, she hopes it lasts.