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Frank barely had time to catch his breath before someone called his name from the nurses' station. Chairs was crowded in a way that made his skin crawl, and the buzzing of his phone had stopped about an hour earlier, along with the quiet horn that came with it each time the Penguins scored. But he hadn't had time to pull it out to check the scores, not with the way this evening was going.
And of all days it had to be, it was when the Penguins were playing against the Panthers. He'd tried to get the night off so he could use his season ticket, but it seemed like luck wasn't on his side.
"Langdon," Dana called again, beckoning him over. "Come here."
"If this is about bed seven, I already told Robby-" Dana stopped him with a shake of her head, raising her hands quickly.
"This ain't about bed seven," she said. "There's a patient in bay four needing his nose set; think you can find time to take it?" There was a soft smile on her face as she asked, making Frank raise an eyebrow. There was something off about Dana that he just couldn't quite put his finger on; this wasn't the usual Dana smile he was so used to. There was something hidden behind the twinkle of her eyes.
He glanced over to the bay directly opposite them, where Donnie was awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels, with his hands in his pockets just outside of the door, as if blocking anyone who walked past from seeing inside, even though the curtain was also pulled to. With his curiosity piqued, he nodded, despite the long list of patients he was still working his way through.
"Sure, I can take it."
"Appreciate it, Langdon." She moved to turn away towards Emma, but quickly turned back. "And keep it professional; he's high-profile."
Frank turned from her with a quizzical look but began the short walk over to Donnie, who had finally clocked Frank coming straight for him and stilled his movements, although now he seemed less like he was blocking the door and more like he was hiding something- something he was dying to show Frank, given the grin growing on his face.
"This won't be good," Frank mumbled under his breath. It almost reminded him of Tanner when he would come running in from the garden, caked in dirt with whatever creature he'd found cupped in his hands for Frank to see before Abby yelled at him to put it back where he found it.
"This is more than a broken nose, isn't it?" Frank asked, trying to move around Donnie to no avail. High-profile patients rarely needed security to guard the door after they had gotten through chairs, but that still didn't explain why Donnie was standing there instead of Ahmad.
Donnie pressed his lips together, holding back laughter. "No, it's just a broken nose, but you'll still need to test for a concussion and see if all his teeth are still there."
"So why are you here? Don't you have your own patients to get to?"
"Thought you might need backup," Donnie shrugged, laughter spilling through his words, "Just in case."
"That's not helpful," Frank pointed out, deciding not to pick up on Donnie's phrasing.
He knew Donnie wouldn't intentionally send him in with a patient alone if he was truly at risk; neither would Dana, but it didn’t stop his stomach from twisting uncomfortably, sending the coffee he had just drunk sloshing around.
"No, but it's funny."
"Do you know who it is?" Frank whispered after a moment.
"Oh yeah." Donnie laughed again. "It's why Dana wanted to give him to you."
That suddenly explained so much about their weird behaviour; they were intentionally trying to get him into this room, knowing he'd be too curious to say no. Frank wanted to ask more questions, but Donnie was already stepping aside, and he couldn't keep his patient waiting any longer than he already had, no matter who he was.
"Alright," Frank said, stepping into the room, the door audibly shutting behind him as he reached for a pump of hand-sanitiser on the wall. As he rubbed it in, he took a glance around the room; there was a half-melted ice pack in the sink, a knocked-over half-drunk water bottle by the bed and a jacket lazily thrown over the back of a chair with blood smeared across the sleeves as if the man had tried to clean his face off with the fabric.
But then Frank looked closer; it was a navy blue jacket with a red trim, with the Panthers logo on the back, the number nineteen on the shoulders, and a name spanning from shoulder to shoulder that had his skin crawling.
Tkachuk.
No wonder this guy had been punched.
His eyes darted over to the hunched man on the bed. The towel he was holding up to his nose covered most of his face, giving Frank not much to work with, but he could see that the man was tall, well-built but not too big, dressed in sweat-drenched black compression gear with shorts thrown over his legs and sliders on his feet.
Donnie's laughter reached his ears again- no way.
There was no way; he couldn't be- could he?
"...You have got to be kidding me", Frank whispered under his breath.
The man- Matthew sat up a little straighter and pulled the towel from his face, the stream of blood quickly continuing to run down his face and down into the collar of his compression top, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk. "Not a fan?"
"Not of you," Frank answered honestly, moving closer to get a better look at his nose. It sat crooked and bruised, with his under-eyes darkening by the minute; his left eye was almost completely swollen shut, and his teeth, although stained, seemed fine at first glance, but for a hockey injury it wasn't the worst Frank had seen- or dealt with.
Matthew huffed, “Let me guess, Crosby fan? Just like the rest of Pittsburgh."
Frank ignored him, reaching for gauze instead. “Tilt your head forward.”
“I know how noses work, doc.”
“Clearly not enough to stop getting yours rearranged.”
That earned him another crooked grin. Even half-blinded and bleeding all over the exam bed, Matthew Tkachuk somehow still looked irritatingly pleased with himself.
"Malkin then?" Matthew tried again, much to Frank's annoyance. "Novak? Karlsson? Still claiming Fleury?" He continued.
Frank pulled the rolling stool closer to the bed, sitting so he could finally take a proper look at Matthew's nose. "Okay, what did you do, and who did it?"
Matthew's eyebrows rose. "Seriously, didn't you watch the game?"
Frank rolled his eyes, gesturing around the room. "I've been working, so you'll have to tell me."
Matthew gave a small shrug, careful not to move his head too much. "Got into it with one of their guys... maybe more, I don't know."
"Who?"
"Cook- Acciari," Matthew grunted, stopping himself from calling the centre by his nickname.
Frank nodded. "And?"
"He got me in the face, I guess."
"Did your head hit the ice?"
"No."
Frank watched him, as much as he hated the Tkachuks; he still had a job to do. "You're sure?"
"Yeah."
"Did you fall at all?"
Matthew shook his head as much as he could. "No."
"Any loss of consciousness?"
"No," Matthew replied again, growing more bored by each question.
"Did you feel dazed or confused after it happened?"
Matthew hesitated, making Frank stand from the stool and move towards the computer. "Maybe for a second."
Frank started typing. "Maybe?"
"I got hit pretty hard."
"I can see that, but that's not what I asked."
Matthew sighed. "Everything happened pretty fast."
Frank nodded, typing more before asking his next question, "Is someone coming to get you?"
"You think I've got a concussion?" Matthew asked, dropping the towel onto the mattress.
"I've got a couple more questions," Frank said. "Then I can let you know. Any dizziness?"
"A little afterwards."
"Still dizzy?"
"Not really."
"Headache?"
"Yeah."
"How bad?"
"Five-ish, maybe six."
"Is it getting worse?"
"No."
"Any nausea?"
"No."
"Have you vomited?"
"No."
"Any blurred vision?"
"No," Matthew grumbled. "Are we nearly done?"
Frank ignored him. "Double vision?"
"No."
"Ringing in your ears?"
"No."
"Any weakness or numbness anywhere?"
"God, no."
"Trouble speaking?"
"What do you think?" Matthew grinned. "I'm fine, right?"
"I just need to check your pupils," Frank said, moving back over to the stool and reaching for the penlight in his pocket.
"Look straight ahead." The light flicked from Matthew's left eye to the more swollen right one. Frank watched the pupils constrict, comparing them before moving the light back again, slower this time.
"Any pain?"
"No."
"Blurred vision?"
"Didn't I already answer that?"
Frank nodded with a sigh, dropping the penlight back into his pocket, and reached for a pair of gloves. "Okay, no more questions, but I need to assess your nose now, okay?" He reached up carefully once the gloves were on, before Matthew could say anything else, pressing around the orbital bones with soft nitrile-covered fingers. Matthew thankfully remained still and quiet until Frank reached his right eye, resulting in him letting out a quiet hiss, flinching back slightly from Frank's hand.
"Does that hurt?"
"Little bit."
"Is it a sharp or dull pain?"
"Sharp."
Frank nodded, moving his fingers away before checking across the bridge of his nose. "Your nose is the only thing broken, so you can thank Cookie for that."
"Acciari." Matthew rudely corrected him.
"Whatever."
Matthew let out a small laugh, immediately wincing as his nose protested the movement, his eyes squeezing shut.
Frank gave him an almost empathetic look as he reached for gauze, gently wiping away the blood that had collected beneath his nose. The bleeding had slowed considerably now, leaving most of the mess across Matthew's face dried and sticky.
"Can you breathe through your nose?"
Matthew sucked in a wet breath through his nose, making Frank grimace.
"Not really."
"Both sides?"
"Mostly the right."
Frank made a mental note, then turned his attention back to the swelling around Matthew's eye.
"Any pain behind the eye?"
"No."
"You don't have a concussion, but you need to rest, keep hydrated and ice your face, and if you start to show any signs of a concussion or start bleeding, talk to the Panthers' medical staff, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, I've got it; it's not the first time I've been punched." Matthew shrugged. "Not even this month, so are you ready to set it now so I can go?"
"You're going to be a lot less eager once I actually touch it."
Matthew's face dulled slightly. "I'll be fine."
"Sit still; this is going to sting, but you know what to expect."
Matthew watched him carefully as Frank prepared everything he needed, his usual amusement fading despite the rush that normally surged through him when pain was inflicted on him. Matthew sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress as he fought the instinct to push away, closer to the wall when the needle came towards his face.
The first injection made Matthew flinch hard, his head instinctively jerking backwards before Frank steadied him again.
"Easy."
"That fucking hurt." Matthew coughed, tears pricking in his eyes. "You could have warned me," he glared.
Frank ignored him, waiting for the anaesthetic to take effect before checking the area again. He pressed carefully along the bridge of Matthew's nose. "Feel that?"
"Yeah."
"This?" Frank asked, pressing a little lower.
"Not really."
Frank nodded, giving it another couple of seconds before reaching for another fresh gauze. "Okay. I'm gonna set it now."
Frank positioned himself carefully, squatting above the stool and keeping one hand steady against the side of Matthew's face while the other took to the cartilage of his nose. He paused for a moment, tapping gently against the skin to see how much Matthew would react.
"Stay still."
Frank adjusted his grip, working quickly to push the nose back into its normal position.
"Fuck!" Matthew shouted, nearly pushing Frank away from him.
"There, you're done," Frank grunted, moving to grab another piece of gauze to soak up the now-slow stream of blood coming from Matthew's nose. "Looks good as new."
Matthew gave him a small smile. "Am I good to go now, Doc?"
Frank threw his gloves into the bin with a nod. "You need someone to pick you up, doesn't matter who they are, but we can't let you walk to your hotel... or get public transport."
"That 'cause the Penguins fans are gonna attack me?"
Frank chuckled, "Probably, but I'll leave the room so you can make your call."
The moment Frank left the room, Matthew scrambled to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket. His lock screen was hidden behind dozens of notifications, most of which were from Brady and his Dad, a couple from the team checking in, and the rest coming from social media, and Matthew didn’t have to open those to know they weren't from his fans.
Once he found the number he'd been looking for and clicked it, Matthew felt his body get hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. It barely rang twice before Leon's voice met his ears, "Are you okay, Schatz? I saw a video; do you need me to come and get you?"
Matthew had never been so thankful for Leon being out on a lower-body injury in his life, or that Leon loved his job too much to stay home and instead was choosing to follow around after Matthew, reminding him of a puppy.
"Please," Matthew exhaled painfully, "I just wanna go to sleep, but they won't let me leave."
"Where are you?" Leon asked, lowering his voice softly. "I'm getting in the elevator now."
"Uh-" Matthew paused, looking around the room, racking his brain to try and remember the sign he'd seen on the way in. "Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre...I think, yeah, that's right."
"Okay, Süßer, I'm on my way. I love you."
"I love you too, Drai."
Frank had almost finished with Matthew's charting when Robby leaned into his peripheral vision, fiddling with his fingers behind his head. "Your patient's ride is here, Donnie. Let them in a second ago."
"Already?" Frank asked, although if they had come from the paint can, then he couldn't be too surprised about the wait. "I'll go check that they know his discharge information, then I'll let him go."
Frank pushed himself away from the desk, glad to get away from charting and Trinity's glare that she kept sending from the other computer. He made his way back towards bay four, but not before he caught a glance over at Donnie, whose eyes were blown wide in shock. Frank didn't bother to knock; instead, he coughed enough to alert Matthew he was there before pulling the curtain open enough to step through.
He'd been expecting a member of the Panthers' staff, possibly Barkov, or a family member who was lucky enough to be nearby; what he wasn't expecting to see was a man's back facing him with one of his hands on Matthew's thigh, rubbing at the sore muscles with practised ease, and the other hand holding his chin as he looked over Matthew's now cleaner face.
"You need to stop being such a brat, or I'm going to end up with a husband with no teeth." The man joked.
Matthew rolled his eyes, but the annoying grin was back on his face. "You know I can't help it, and anyway- you wouldn't hate that so much. You keep saying I need to be careful with my teeth when we-" Matthew stopped himself when Leon hit him lightly on the thigh.
Frank stared for a second too long; he knew that voice, but there was no way he'd be here for Tkachuk, especially not being this domestic with him. He coughed again, hoping to not make this any more awkward.
"Oh." Leon straightened, taking his hand away from Matthew's face and turned towards Frank. "Sorry, I didn't hear you."
Matthew turned his head, grinning. "Doc."
Frank blinked, "...Draisaitl."
Matthew looked between the two of them. "He's a fan," he explained to Leon, although Frank was sure Leon could figure that out himself.
"Crosby fan?" Leon asked genuinely, unlike when Matthew had been trying to get on his nerves earlier.
Frank sighed. "It's not going to make any difference to your healing, but yes," he finally answered, making Matthew cackle loudly.
Frank picked up the discharge paperwork and held it towards Leon, choosing to speak to the German rather than his patient so he could do this as quickly as possible without being interrupted.
"Seriously?" Matthew whined, but Frank ignored him.
"First thing, his nose is going to be sore tonight. The anaesthetic is going to wear off, and when it does, he's probably going to notice it a lot more. Some swelling and bruising is expected, especially around the nose and underneath his eyes."
Leon nodded, taking it more seriously than Matthew was.
Frank cleared his throat.
"He also needs to keep his head elevated when lying down tonight, so he can't lie flat against the mattress."
Leon nodded again, his eyes never leaving Frank's face.
"And no blowing my nose, right?" Matthew butted in, "I told you this isn't the first broken nose I've had."
"I'll keep an eye on him, don’t worry." Leon smiled gently. "He's less of a handful when it's just the two of us."
Frank didn't dare say anything, but he highly doubted it. He glanced towards Matthew. "You understand all that?"
"Yes." Matthew sighed, sliding himself off the bed and immediately gripping the edge of the mattress when the movement had his body swaying and his face going pale with dizziness.
"You okay?" Leon asked, pushing Matthew slightly so he was sitting again.
"Yeah, I'm fine, let's just go."
Frank watched him carefully; the pink was coming back to his cheeks, but that didn't make it any less concerning. "Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"
"I'm fine."
"Matthew." Frank snapped a little too harshly. He sucked in a breath before apologising, "I'm sorry, but if you feel sick or any different from how you were before Leon came, I need to know now."
"I'm a little dizzy", Matthew admitted, refusing to look at anyone but the floor below his feet. "But that might be because I haven't eaten," he said quietly as if he didn't want Leon to hear.
Frank's eyebrows furrowed. "We've got sandwiches if you want one, or something to drink."
Matthew shook his head gently. "I want to go back to the hotel and sleep."
Frank looked him over for a moment; he was barely five years older than the man sitting on the bed, but he knew enough about Keith Tkachuk to understand why Matthew didn't want to admit to being injured enough to stay in the hospital more than his stubborn mind wanted him to be, and despite never being a fan of Matthew or the things he believed in, Frank still felt a strange wave of pity wash over him.
He turned his gaze back to Leon, who had gone back to rubbing at Matthew's thigh protectively. As a doctor, he shouldn't let Matthew leave while he was in this state, but as a hockey fan, he knew exactly how badly Matthew would fight against being kept there while his agitation grew by the minute. But then again, if he rushed them out, what if somebody out in chairs saw them leaving together? It'll go viral before they even reach the hotel, and Frank didn't want to think about what that would do to their careers.
If he sent Matthew away with Leon, at least if anything happened during the night or as the week went on, he would have the medical staff to turn to, and with that small reminder, Frank spoke again.
"Look," Frank sighed, talking to Leon, "If you pull up into the ambulance bay, no one will see you leave together, but-" he turned to Matthew. "If you can't walk out of here without feeling dizzy, I'll have to put you in a wheelchair- at least until you get to the car, okay?"
He saw something flash behind Matthew's eyes, worry and fear mixed with something else he couldn't quite place.
"We can wait until you're steady, right, Schatz?" Leon whispered, his voice easing Matthew, "Then you can sleep." He reached down to grab Matthew's fallen water bottle and popped the lid open.
"Yeah, alright, Drai, I'll wait," he whispered as Leon handed the bottle to Matthew; his eyes fluttered shut when water began to fill his mouth.
"Small sips." Leon frowned. "Don't choke." Matthew cracked his right eye open with the corner of his mouth twitching, clearly dying to make a joke but held back when he saw the look on Leon's face.
"How are you feeling, Matthew?" Frank asked once the bottle had been finished and handed back to Leon.
"Like I can leave." Matthew rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I'm fine, and I've got to take some calls."
"Maurice?" Leon lowered his voice. "He can wait longer."
"My dad." Matthew's eyes dropped back down to his lap awkwardly. "He's called seven times since I got off the ice."
The air in the room stilled when Matthew carried on. "My phone's on silent, so I don't know how many times he's called since then, but- it's not good. I know that." He swallowed audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "He's pissed, I know it," he whispered under his breath, more to himself than to them.
"I should get him out of here," Leon grunted, clearly growing angered from the mention of the oldest Tkachuk. "You said the ambulance bay, right?"
"Yeah, it's signposted so you won't miss it." Frank answered, "I'll walk Matthew over so you don't have to worry about him."
Matthew's eyes remained focused on his fiddling hands in his lap. "I'll see you in a minute." The words came out barely audible as Leon slipped out of the room, Matthew's jacket and phone in hand.
Frank stepped closer to Matthew, filling the spot Leon had just been standing in. "Do you want a hand getting up, or do you think you can do it by yourself?"
Matthew's head slowly lifted, eyes foggy. "Can you do me a favour?" he asked, pushing himself up from the bed shakily.
"Anything."
"Can you not tell anyone about this- about us?"
Frank frowned; he could see how Matthew looked uncomfortable with the question having left his mouth. As he steadied himself, his usual cockiness was gone, leaving him an empty shell of whatever Frank had believed him to be.
"About you and Draisaitl?"
Matthew nodded nervously. "No one knows, except for his family, and-" Matthew stopped when his voice cracked painfully. He cleared his throat, taking another couple of steps until he reached the door. "Please, Doc, whatever you want and I'll sort it, okay? Just- we can't have anyone know."
Frank's frown deepened. "Matthew, you don't have to bribe me."
"I'm not-"
"You are."
Matthew's mouth opened before closing again. Frank didn't want to know how many people Matthew had tried this with before who had given in just to keep their love private.
"I'm not interested in anything you can give me, and I'm certainly not interested in your personal life, just like how you aren't interested in mine," Frank said, his hand hovering, waiting to push the door open.
Matthew swallowed. "So you won't tell anyone?"
"No, of course not."
Matthew stared at him for a couple of seconds, looking straight into Frank's eyes, checking for any hint of a lie. "Not the nurses?"
"No."
"Or your friends?"
"No. God, Matthew, I'm not going to tell anyone anything." Frank insisted. "You're my patient, and that's all people out there will know. No word of this will ever leave my mouth, I promise, Hippocratic oath and all that."
"Thank you." Matthew's voice cracked. "I uh-"
"Let's get you to the ambulance bay." Frank smiled gently, finally pushing the door open for Matthew to leave.
Matthew kept his head down as they walked through the Pitt, trying to hide his face as much as possible from anyone looking at him as they walked past, Frank keeping close to his side until they made it outside; the cold air hitting Matthew's face must have felt like heaven, given the way his head tilted up and a shuddering breath slipped from his lips.
Leon had pulled up alongside the bikes, making sure to give way for any ambulances that would need to drive in, which Frank couldn't help but be grateful for; not all partners were so socially aware, as Frank had come to learn.
The second Leon spotted them, he jumped from the driver's seat and rushed to Matthew, his hood pulled low over his face. "Are you ready, Schatz?" He took hold of Matthew's elbow to help steer him towards the car, but not before shooting Frank one last smile. "We can deal with this all tomorrow; you need rest, maybe room service and a massage?" Leon offered once they were in the safety of his car.
The moment the car disappeared through the bay and out into the traffic, Donnie appeared beside Frank. "So Draisaitl, huh?"
"Not a word, Donahue."