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“Doctor Langdon!”
Langdon takes a deep breath. The frosty air fogs with his anger. He truly, deeply, absolutely does not want to talk to anyone else today.
He’s one interaction away from jumping off the edge. His nerves are flared, roaring to fight the next person who so much as breathes at him wrong.
It’s anyone’s guess as to why he’s so emotionally raw right now. Maybe seeing Robby after his stupid sabbatical is bringing back old memories he’s been trampling through in therapy. Or the subtle reminders that he’s still an addict in the eyes of his peers despite his efforts in NA.
Those blank stares from Robby go right through him. Like he’s some phantom haunting Robby’s visions and not an actual doctor standing in his ER. The hospital’s requests for urine drug tests that he’s sure have made its rounds in the gossip mill also don't help beyond souring his mood.
And just when he thinks he can leave it all behind for the day and bundle himself in his shitty apartment, someone has to call for him.
Langdon’s disgusted with himself that he’s still so eager to answer the call.
When he looks over his shoulder, Javadi jogs into his view. There’s a nervous look on her face, her smile wavering in and out like she’s not sure which expression to wear.
She hasn’t grown during his near year of absence—definitely not, she’s not that young. He remembers seeing her for the first time and thinking she couldn’t possibly be old enough to drive let alone operate on a living human being.
Despite knowing this, when he looks at her now, she’s grown. Maybe not vertically, still standing only to his shoulders, but more so into herself. More confident in her social capabiltites.
At least, that’s how he feels when she walks beside him. She definitely would not have been so casual around him months ago. Maybe his recent blossoming friendship with McKay is what encourages her to seek a conversation with him. That’s really their only connecting point.
“Hey,” he says when it becomes evident she will not be the one to break this weird silence between them. “Did you need something?”
“Not really. Well—I was just wondering if you knew…where McKay was?”
Go figures. Maybe he should be offended that he’s only known as McKay’s GPS. It would sting a little more if he actually didn’t know. They text way too much to not be aware of each other's whereabouts.
“I think I saw her taking a phone call in the stairwell. She may be a second—if you needed something from her.”
Javadi nods, holding her hands together. Fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket as she looks back up at him. It’s nice to be looked at in the eyes. Like he’s not being looked through. Like she doesn’t know how much of a screwup he has been and thinks him inferior for stooping so low. That to her, he's not just a mess made from a collection of his failures and mistakes.
Even if it looks like she’s holding herself back from exploding into a million pieces herself.
They walk together in silence for a couple of awkward seconds. If she has something she wants to vocalize, she’ll say as much. No point dragging the small talk out any more than necessary, especially after the shitshow of a day he’s had.
“It’s just that McKay was—uhm. Kind of my ride home.”
That peaks his interest. He turns to her with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t ride with your parents?”
Her wide eyes are accompanied by a quick frown. Like he just squeezed bitter lemons over her meal and ruined the delicate flavors of the dish.
He’s not sure why she’s so surprised. It’s common knowledge at this point that both her parents work somewhere in the hospital.
What floor they work on slips his mind, but he knows their faces well enough with how often they swoop into the department to check on their baby daughter. He's even been reamed by Doctor Shamsi a few times for his...unpolished mannerisms.
Maybe that’s the upsetting part. Something so personal like family being put on display for people to spectate. She has no choice in the matter. Her family history is basic knowledge to anyone working in the Pitt.
They’re alike in that way. Flayed open and scrubbed raw for everyone to gawk at.
It’s uncomfortable comparing himself to a med student, and he hopes that she also never relates to him in turn.
“Touchy subject,” he mutters.
“It’s okay. I’m used to it, really.”
They walk for a few more steps in silence. Langdon tries to focus on the crunch of his shoes over the thin layer of frost rather than the guilt sitting heavy on his chest. He puffs out an exhale, fascinated with the warm smoke floating in front of him.
“So, you’ve been riding with McKay?” Langdon asks, flickering between the few safe subjects.
Javadi nods. “Yeah. It started off as a one time thing. I don't really remember why. Just sort of happened, you know?”
The sudden stammering and strange little nervous, pitched up tone to her voice makes Langdon think she does remember why she was in McKay’s car, but he won’t push. There’s a blanket of heat rising to her face that he will let her blame on the brisk November air.
“And then she wanted to show me all these bands she used to listen to and even brought her CDs. Did you know her car has a CD player? I didn’t know cars still had those.”
Langdon chuckles. “I think she’s got an older model.”
Javadi swerves her body in his direction as they keep walking. She practically bounces on her toes as she reminisces.
"Have you heard of Garbage? Not—they aren’t garbage, but that’s the band’s name. I didn’t think it would be my type of music, but McKay introduced one of their songs to me. I think I like…fell in love.”
“That’s nice.”
That sounds like McKay’s type of music. Alternative metal sort of genre. Something edgy befitting of her divorced mom playlist.
Not that his divorced dad songs are any less telling, but he’ll keep that between himself and his music app’s yearly recap, thank you.
Javadi skids to a stop. “Fell in love with the music. The band, I mean.”
Langdon raises an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. What else could you have meant?”
“Ha-ha, right?”
They reach Langdon’s car. He stops in front of the hood—because he reverse parks like the talented driver that he is—and turns to Javadi.
She’s looking up at him with doe-eyes that are a little too bright and soft to look at. It’s unnerving being the center of her attention. Like a baby squirrel begging for a bite of his sandwich when he eats outside.
“Do you want to wait for McKay in my car?” Langdon offers.
Shit. He hadn't meant to say that. It sort of just…slipped out. There’s something about the layer of palpable anxiety she’s exuding that makes Langdon want to offer some reprieve.
“Oh! I wouldn’t want to impose. Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll just….”
“Just…what? Run circles around the parking lot? It looks like the last thing you want to do is walk back into that hospital.”
Javadi looks back at the building. She rolls her bottom lip with her teeth. It’s as though Langdon’s about to send her on a death mission. Her hands tighten around her bookbag straps like she’s steeling herself for war.
“Look. I’m not in any position to ask, but it’s clear that you don’t want to go back inside. It’s 28 degrees, and you’re in that thin zip-up that will keep you warm for maybe three more minutes.”
Langdon opens the driver’s side door and turns his car on. The area roars to life with the engine and douses Javadi in the golden glow of the headlights. Her eyes are wide like he’s above the press the pedal to the metal and hit her.
Her mouth moves, and she’s saying something that he can’t hear over the tinkering of the car. It must be in the affirmative, because she’s then squeezing herself into the passenger seat of his car.
“I don’t have any CDs, because I’m not that old. You can connect your phone to my CarPlay and listen to your songs.”
“I can do that?”
Langdon looks at her, maybe with a bit of a strange look. Was that odd of him to suggest? He supposes they could sit in silence and stare out the front windshield, but he may genuinely drive them into oncoming traffic.
“Yeah, just don’t pick anything sad. I don’t think either of us can handle that right now.”
Javadi giggles, a small smile finally resting on her face as she explains, “I’m never allowed to play what I want in the car.”
“With Cass?”
“With my parents. My mom says music is a distraction.”
“It’s the greatest distractor ever then.”
The song that plays through his janky radio is something more attuned to Langdon’s perception of Javadi. More pop-like and bubbly. Something that would resonate with him if he was ten years younger, maybe.
“It’s—uhh Olivia Rodrigo. I can change it if this isn’t something that sounds good, or—”
“Javadi, it’s fine. I like knowing what you listen to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’re important to Cass, and you’ve been becoming important to me too. It's nice knowing what type of things you like.” Then, because he fears his tongue slipped a little too much, he adds, “music is always a good ice breaker.”
“Oh. That’s sweet.”
He scoffs. The alternative is accepting the compliment for what it is. A sign that he’s definitely changed. Progress from his collective therapy appointments and NA meetings and sit downs with his sponsor. Proof that he’s something a little bit softer than the pills and the yelling and the fighting.
Langdon gulps, turning the heat knob lower. Neither of them are quite shivering anymore, so they don’t need the heat on full blast anymore.
“You know, I had heard whispers about you.”
Dread sits heavy in his stomach. He licks his chapped lips. “Yeah?”
“It wasn’t anything specific. People keep making guesses about you. Everyone here is nosy that way. It’s sort of like a requirement to work here.”
Langdon, despite all the anxiety and guilt and horror about what he’s done, manages to laugh. He’s learning that she has that effect on him, and that maybe the world won’t catch on fire if he leans into that happiness.
“It does seem that way.”
A twinkle of snow begins to pile up on his windshield. Just the hint of snowfall where he can still analyze individual patterns before they melt.
“Nobody knows why you were gone all those months ago, but everyone seems to have made up their minds about you.”
She can’t be serious. He admits she has some balls trying to worm some secrets out of him. When Langdon looks over, he’s surprised by the smile Javadi’s giving him. Open and relaxed.
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Langdon adds just to be careful.
She shrugs. “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”
“I don’t think the ‘you’ of your first shift would have said that.”
Javadi groans, sulking as she turns away. She’s surely remembering the same memory as him. Langdon hadn’t cared at that moment—still doesn’t, because its hilarity ranks above his newfound sensitivity—and was fascinated at the prospect of someone nosier than himself. Trying to pry into McKay's past through anyone besides the person she had been investigating.
On her first day, no less.
“It’s…different. McKay’s taught me a lot about not being so—uhh narrow minded.”
Langdon’s not sure how to respond to that. Good? There’s a new fear of coming off as uncaring that he thinks may have been hiding under the haze of the pills.
“She still gossips with me though.”
Langdon barks a laugh. “Yeah, that sounds right. Who doesn’t love a good gossip sesh.”
Javadi gleams, leaning over the console with some newfound excitement.
“Did you see the new nurse trying to hit on Collins. Totally went in one ear and out the other.”
He feels a grin pull at his lips. “Was it the same nurse that tried to suggest a threesome to Whitaker and Santos after hearing they live together?”
“What?!” Javadi snorts a laugh, a single high pitched note that breaks any lingering tension between them. “What kind of people work at this hospital?”
“Crazy people,” Langdon says. “And we’re part of the crazy.”
Javadi's face falls. “No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Maybe she’s trying to make a joke, but then Javadi raises an eyebrow, and holy shit she’s not fooling around. She doesn’t know the social golden rule of any workplace.
“Someone’s always going to think you’re the crazy one,” Langdon explains. “Either crazy, or fucked up, or depressing, or something. That's why I don't care about the gossip surrounding me and my…absence. People are just bored.”
She hums. Then, she starts to talk in a whisper that makes Langdon think they’re at some sort of confessional booth. Her head’s bent low as she fiddles with her sleeves.
“People talk about me. I didn't think anyone knew who I was, but then people came up asking for recommendation letters. Or to tell me that I was super cute as a baby—which is actually really weird to say to someone. I don't like how much influence my parents have over my life here.”
“I wouldn’t like it if my parents made me sit in silence during every car ride either.”
Javadi chuckles, shaking her head. “We don’t sit in silence. There’s always some article from a medical journal she wants to talk about.”
Langdon feels disgust contort his facial expression. Poor fucking girl. He thinks he would have run away in her position. His parents were never that strict. Just giddy to have a child after trying and trying for years. Pleased enough to let him get away with anything.
Not that he had any illicit desires nor the inclination. The most he had done was sneak out for a party in high school that had ended up being lame.
“I won’t force you to talk about medical articles right now.”
“Please don’t. I’m kind of hiding here to avoid just that.”
Langdon mulls over that. Stares down the ever-revolving exit of the ER before turning to Javadi. She’s looking up at him, and it’s startling to actually acknowledge the fact that she’s sitting in his car.
“You ever think about moving away? I’m sure you’re a strong enough applicant to get into any residency program in the nation.”
The song changes in time to leave a silent gap for Javadi to fill with a bitter laugh. She’s not smiling anymore though, and there's a look in her eyes that makes Langdon think she’s about to cry from laughter or sadness. An indecision on which emotion is more appropriate.
“With what money? I can only attend med school, because my parents currently pay for everything.”
Langdon shrugs. The juvenile shock that some kids actually have parents in the healthcare system and aren’t first generation students never goes away, apparently.
“Take out loans like the rest of us. Explore what’s out there. You think Pittsburgh is all that’s out there? I think if you spread your wings—”
“You don’t think I know that?"
For the four seconds Javadi’s able to hold a glare to his face, he’s rather intimidated. The feeling is quick to fade when she realizes what she just said and to who. Her eyes widen as her lips clamp shut.
“Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I—I feel clammy talking about moving away, and it's just...everything you say is true, but…I don’t know.”
“No, I get it. Well, not really. My parents were the complete opposite of yours.”
“Uhhm. Not doctors?”
“Not strict.”
“Oh.”
Langdon gnaws on his bottom lip. He can see his reflection in her at the ER, but outside the four walls of the department, they couldn’t be more dissimilar.
“I shouldn’t have suggested anything.”
“It’s fine. I think I snapped, because I’ve been feeling guilty about wanting to move out. But, it’s not their life. It’s mine…right?”
She’s peering up at him with wide eyes, and the doubtful tone to her voice makes him swallow. Like he’s supposed to know what the future holds for her.
“I can’t tell you what the right thing to do is—there is no right or wrong. Just…doing things you won’t regret.”
That party he had attended his first year of high school. He had to physically drag his friend out of his house. Swore to every god imaginable that his parents wouldn’t find out. Langdon chuckles at the pathetic justification he had given. That they were only freshmen once, and that they need to live for themselves.
Maybe it’s something like that. Javadi seems to know what she wants. It’s more about the courage of pursuing those dreams than actually realizing them.
That’s not anything Langdon can directly assist with. There’s no suture or procedure in the world that can fix this, which means he’s unsure about the next steps.
All his non-medical advice seems to land poorly. It’s a miracle he and Mel have come to understand each other, but she’s just about the only one he gets. McKay, too, but more often than not, he’s turning to her for advice.
“What did your parents say when you moved away?” Javadi asks.
“That’s what you want to talk about?” Langdon raises an eyebrow, because surely, there’s better, more interesting topics, but she nods her head. “They knew this was going to happen. I always knew I wanted to go to med school, and that picking the right undergrad was part of it—even if it was hours away from home.”
Langdon’s mind flashes to that final box he had pushed into his father's truck. The sorrow on their joyful faces as they tucked him away into the college’s dorm room.
“Actually, they cried like babies when they dropped me off. Got over it quickly when they realized they had the house to themselves, but man were they sobbing.”
“That’s nice. They must be proud of you.”
Langdon feels his face crinkle around the corners. A sad smile raises his cheeks. He hopes the sparkling blur in his vision can be played off as light from the dazzling lamps right outside the car.
Suddenly he’s turned back time a couple months. Fresh-faced to recovery without a clue of what he was doing. Stunned at the look on his mother’s face in the driver’s seat. It had been a long time since she drove him somewhere and not the other way around. Picking her son up from rehab center that was treating the addiction she didn’t even know he had was surely not the highlight of parenthood, even if it meant her baby boy was back in the passenger seat like the good old times.
“Something like that,” he mutters. “It hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows.”
Javadi stares at him, and he's a little unnerved by how intense her eyes are. Big and round too, like two blackholes pulling him in.
“We can’t be perfect all the time, right? You were saying something about not doing things we regret and living in the past.”
“I didn’t say that last part.”
“Oh. I’m saying it then. Is that…applicable here? It feels relevant enough.”
Langdon can’t help the breathy laugh that leaves his mouth, because…yeah. She’s hit the nail right on the head. Bullseye. Any other metaphor for being totally fucking accurate.
“I’ll count it,” he says.
She smiles, something cheeky for the first time all day. A shrill noise shatters the joy off her face. Her hands scramble in her pockets and peek at her phone. Must be someone she enjoys talking to, because her shoulders drop with something resembling relief.
“Hi, McKay…I’m not being weird.” Her eyes flick up to him before she looks out the window. “I’m with Doctor Langdon. He’s letting me wait in his car.”
He can practically hear McKay’s curiosity through the phone. There’s pauses filled with muffled blabbering. Javadi turns to him, pointing the phone in his direction. He flinches away like she’s just pointed a gun at him.
“Uhm—she wants to talk to you.”
He accepts the phone as it's handed over. They’re wearing matching confused looks as he raises the phone to his ear.
“Yeah?”
“You stealing my student?”
“I’m not the one making her wait in the cold.”
McKay coughs a laugh. “I would never do that.”
“Really? Then, what is—”
“I’ll be out in a second. Fuck. Where’d you park?”
“Top floor, right side as you exit.”
“So, not only did you take my student, you parked in the furthest spot.”
“I circled the lot for fifteen minutes for this spot. Sue me.”
“Maybe I will. Hand me back to my girl.”
Langdon rolls his eyes, and it’s a good thing she can’t see the major attitude he’s giving her, and passes the phone back to Javadi. They exchange quips for another minute but one of them decides to hang up.
“Oh, I know this song," Langdon comments.
Javadi’s eyes light up. “Really? I love their debut album.”
“Most artist’s earlier stuff is the better material.”
“McKay said people who say that are just music snobs.”
Langdon shrugs, a grin slipping on his face. “I can’t help the fact that it’s true.”
She mirrors his expression. “Uhh, don’t tell her I agree with you, then.”
He nods, only because he’s been on the receiving end of her vengeful stubbornness. Ordering from the wrong pizzeria apparently warrants a ban from making any future delivery orders in the McKay household.
“Have you listened to their 2003 album?” When Javadi shakes her head, Langdon scoffs. “Give it a listen. That and the deluxe release of the—actually, hand me your phone.”
Javadi passes her phone, leaning over the center console to watch his fingers open her music app. Hits save on a few albums he thinks she may like. They’re a bit on the poppier side than he typically favors, but he figures it leans more enough into Javadi’s taste that she may enjoy a song or two from each album.
“There. Get yourself some wireless earbuds, plug in, and you’ll have something to drown out the noise when your parents are talking.”
Javadi stares at her phone before looking up at him. “I never really thought about doing that before.”
“Rebellion 101. Don’t worry, we all start somewhere.”
Something slams behind him. Langdon’s shoulder jumps up, and he swings around to find out the reason. McKay’s smirk is staring back at his face.
“Hey there,” she says. “We throwing a party in here?”
There’s a startlingly quick smile on Javadi’s face. She leans back into the seat as she faces McKay. It was as though McKay’s presence flipped some switch inside, drowning out any dark thoughts with the light.
It’s strange to see how easily they gravitate towards each other, but on second thought, he understands. There was once a time where he too naturally drifted towards someone too.
Robby was his rock, after all. Or rather, being Robby’s rock was his rock. Being known as a reliable doctor that could handle all the shit they see without batting an eye was crucial to staying Robby's high praises. Someone steady and dependable that Robby could trust to be there through thick and thin. That was all true up until Robby had conjured enough doubt to initiate a locker search.
Now, Langdon’s arms are empty and shaky. He’s desperate to be someone steady enough to be relied on during a trust fall. That someone can turn to him and know he’ll still be there no matter what.
He admonishes the loathing that bubbles in his stomach. Jealousy is an ugly look, and he’s a man in the business of keeping himself well-groomed.
Langdon squashes the envy down with a thin smile. “Wasn’t a party till you got here.”
“Course it wasn’t. He wasn’t boring you, was he?”
Javadi shakes her head. “No! We were just…talking. About stuff.”
“Uhuh.” McKay’s eyes dance between them before she looks at Javadi. “Thanks for waiting. If you’re good, I’m ready to head out.”
“Yeah! Let me just….”
As McKay slides out of the car, Javadi fumbles with her belongings. Unplugs her phone from his CarPlay before reaching for her bag. Wiggles around the quaint passenger seat to put on her bookbag. It's impressive she waggles around so much all while avoiding any eye contact with him.
Langdon stews in the silence of the car. Tries to focus on the shuffling of her bag rather than the awkwardness that has resettled between them. Or maybe he’s imagining the tension. Javadi turns to him with a shy smile.
“Uhm…thanks. For this, and letting me ramble.”
He huffs a laugh. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“Right. Okay. Than—uhm. Yeah. I’m just gonna leave, then.
Langdon struggles to tamper his smile down as he waves a hand towards the door. She nods and slides out. He watches as she trots over to McKay, who is quick to toss an arm around her shoulders like they’re old friends grabbing a drink together.
The leather of his seat squeaks as slides down his seat. A true silence fills the car. Deafening almost to listen to his own lonely breath. Makes him reflect that maybe talking to someone other than his one friend, McKay, is doing some good. He feels a little lighter. The doubt and guilt isn't vibrating as loudly in his ears. It's not so bad to be unburdened by the past. Like there's more beyond the pinpoint focus he used to have locked on Robby.
“What a fucking day.”
Langdon shifts the car into ‘drive’ and whizzes past McKay and Javadi to leave the parking lot.