Chapter Text
Frank Langdon was many things, but most of all he was a desperate man—yearning, as Santos had put it once. Today was no different than most other days, only that today was so boring, maybe because Mel was at that music festival, he wouldn't tell anyone. He internally prayed for something, anything to happen, even going as far as to whisper about how quiet it was under his breath, hoping the superstition was real and it would send some interesting cases his way.
His excitement for the fast-paced thrill was quickly cut short when he watched the big black carts labeled “M.C.I.” rolling into the ED, and patients being ushered out of chairs, some that needed observation being sent into the elevator too. Maybe saying the ‘Q’ word was too far…
The looming chatter that grew between medical staff about what happened flowed around him… Did someone say PittFest? He probably misheard them, anyways—as everything was quickly cut short by Doctor Robby’s resonating baritone voice.
“All right everyone, listen up, mass casualty event from PittFest coming in shortly. No, we don’t know how many people we’ll be seeing, but we are the closest trauma centre so we will be receiving the blunt end of the casualties, prepare to handle a shitload of GSW's...” Robby continued explaining the procedures and colour coding systems, but Langdon’s mind was occupied.
Mel was at PittFest. She was there with an undergrad friend of hers, she took the day off to go, fuck, she was so excited too.
He’d attempted to reach her during his allotted prep time, only to be sent to voicemail five times. He left messages at every tone.
BEEP
“Hey Mel, Please call me if you’re safe. We can’t lose our best resident, haha.”
BEEP
“Mel, Please text me if you can, I’m getting worried.”
BEEP
“Mel, I don’t know what I’ll do if you come through these doors. Call me.”
BEEP
“Please just be okay, Mel. I can’t lose my partner in crime. Call me back please.”
BEEP
“Mel, I can’t lose you. I need you. Please be safe.”
—
He tried begging Robby to put him on triage, he hoped and fucking prayed she wouldn’t come through their doors, but if she did, he wanted to be the first to know.
“Please Robby, I need to get out there.” He was close to losing his mind as it spiraled.
“No can do, Dr. Langdon.” He responded flatly, the usual hint of exasperation in his tone. “You’re my best resident, we need you in here with patients.”
“Bu- Come on..” Langdon tried again, not caring about how desperate he sounded.
“Nope,” Robby turned towards the ambulance bay doors, “Glove up Langdon, looks like we got our first guests coming in now.” He stated grimly.
—
Langdon spent the next hour or so bouncing between the zones, completely disregarding Robby’s order to try to stick to one. He glanced hopefully at the Green zone, no Mel. He asked inconsolable patients their symptoms, already knowing their answers. ‘It hurts’, ‘I’m fine, go help the others’, ‘Could be worse’.
He thought about it, Yeah, it could be a lot worse.
He realized there was no use hoping for the best during this whole shit show. He jogged towards Yellow, pretending to check on vitals, he left soon after confirming she wasn’t there. He felt like a terrible person for being so selfish, he didn’t even know if Mel liked him back, fuck he was freshly divorced too.
He switched out with McKay on a patient in the Pink zone, urging her to check on Harrison, then promptly convincing a med student that they could perform the IO without his guidance.
Frank didn’t consider himself a reckless man—maybe a bit rash— but, fuck, he would risk anything to ensure that Mel was safe right now.
It was so stupid, he’s known her for, what, three months now? And now he’s risking other patients– his job for her? But he’s not sure he could handle losing Mel like this.
He carefully made his way to Red, scanning the hallways before glancing into sardine-packed trauma rooms, no Mel. Thankfully.
He breathed a sigh of relief, letting his muscles relax–
Pedes. The Black and White. The morgue.
Shit.
He skidded to a halt at the nurses station.
“Dana!” He called out, “Have you seen M–Dr. King?” The adrenaline and tightness in his chest made his throat squeeze.
“No, she took today off,” The charge nurse responded tiredly, clearly wanting this to end soon, just like everyone else. “Her phones off, can’t get a hold of her, why?”
“She was at PittFest and she won’t answer my calls, did she go through triage? Is she hurt?” Words started tumbling out of his mouth as soon as it opened, he tried to slow his breathing the way Mel taught him to— fuck, Mel probably bleeding out all alone somewhere. She was probably so scared, if the music wasn’t already too loud for her, then the ricochet of gunshots would be. He could imagine the sensitive girl curling in on herself and trying to will it all away.
That restarted all of his worries.
“Hey woah, kid. I bet she’s fine, she’s smart.” Dana grasped Frank’s hand that was holding onto the desk. “She probably dropped her phone during the whole trainwreck– speaking of trainwrecks, get a hold of yourself, huh? Can’t have you bursting an aneurysm out on the floor.” She let out a dry laugh with the end of her sentence, hoping to at least bring some sort of calm to him.
It didn’t.
He tried to throw himself in the hectic flow of the ED, overseeing procedures for med students, helping intubate the unconscious victims, avoiding Pedes like it was the plague, drilling IO’s, hooking up IV’s, running to patients when he was called over, but it wasn’t enough to distract him.
He asked everyone if they’d seen her, no one had. No news is good news, right?
Just as he was finishing wringing out the last drops from a blood bag, he heard it.
“Red zone! Only responsive to pain, screaming a minute ago, thready pulse, and weak breathing. Three visible GSW’s. One to the chest, causing possible pneumothorax and hemorrhagic shock! Two on the right leg, most likely femoral!”
That can’t be Mel, right? No, she would get the fuck out of there as soon as she could.
He saw Santos, Robby, and Princess roll the gurney in, while he jogged over to get in on the action, until hand firmly pressed on his chest, holding him an arms length away.
“You need to go, you can’t do this one.” It was Santos, her voice was firm and… Shaky? He almost felt bad for everything the kid had gone through today.
“What? Why? I’m 100% more qualif–” He started, trying to push her hand off, but it stayed firm against his sternum.
“You just can’t,” She glanced between his eyes with an expression he couldn’t read. “You can’t do this to yourself.”
“Just let me—” He was getting aggravated now. He tried to look past her, but she quickly side stepped him, shooting a look behind herself before locking eyes with him again, dealing the final blow.
“It’s Mel.” She said a little too harshly, her face drawn with remorse and immediate regret. “I’m so sorry. Dana! Get him out of here.”
His world fell apart around him. He could barely feel the hands on his shoulders whisking him away from the scene.
He could only hear his own heartbeat as he watched Robby cut her clothes off of her unmoving body. Her favourite jeans were tattered and bloody, now slit to show the blood gushing out of her ivory skin. Her brand new shirt, the one she was so excited to show him, now a heap on the gurney as they rolled her over. He almost vomited at the sound of the IO drilling into her arm.
He almost missed the raspy, dulcet tone of Dana’s voice giving him the reassurance that he’s given to so many families in the past.
“They're doing the best they can, you know Robby— Hell you know Mel better than anyone else here, she’s a fighter.” He paid no mind to the implication.
He sat down at the nurses station, tears pricking his eyes as reality caught up to him. Multiple GSW’s, collapsed lung, arterial damage, potential hemorrhagic shock, even if she pulled through she’d need surgery, then physical therapy, and who would be there for Becca? Oh shit, what will he tell Becca? Who will take care of her? What if Mel dies before he can tell her how he feels? What if—
“Slow down, Frank, breathe.” A voice, Dana, ripped him from his breakdown. “Breathe, okay?”
A panicked voice called her away, “Sorry, I gotta– I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” She leaves him with his thoughts.
Mel is strong, she’ll pull through. She’s in good hands. It should have been me. She doesn’t deserve this. Why her? Why not anyone else? Why did it have to be her? He glared at the shaken patients that were strewn about, superficial wounds to their outermost extremities. Why couldn’t they have taken her place? Oh god, she probably jumped in front of someone to save them. He suddenly felt an acrid taste come into his mouth. Come on Frank, keep it together.
He needed to know what was happening to her, he stood from his seat quickly, shrugging off the dizziness and ache in his back from his sharp movement.
He completely ignored Dana’s previous firm request, deciding to deal with her wrath later, as he rounded the desk to get a closer look, jogging over to Mel’s bed.
“ —could hemorrhage at any minute. We need 1000 cc’s of o-neg! Princess, keep manual pressure for the transfusion and prepare the cell saver. Mohan, put a tourniquet on the right leg to stunt the bilateral femoral bleed! Santos, prepare the chest tube and possible REBOA.” Robby yelled out the commands. “Switch out if you need to, she’s one of our own!”
Langdon rushed in behind Santos, and his heart sank to the ground at the sight.
There she was, tube down her fucking throat, hooked up to an IV, blood all over her body, face contorted in unconscious pain, he noticed that her glasses were were gone, her mousy hair splayed around her shoulders, no longer in that perfect, sensible braid. In any other circumstance, he’d tell her she was beautiful and tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
But this wasn’t ‘any other circumstance’. Here he stood, completely still, Robby looked up for a split second and caught Langdon’s petrified expression.
“Langdon! You’re not supposed to be over here. Go help in Green or take a break, We can’t afford any mistakes.” Robby scolded him, hoping someone else would take him away from the scene.
“Robby, please let me talk to her, I’ll be quick I promise.” He begged, leaning over Mel’s still form, reaching for and gripping her hand as he shook.
“Fine, but you take a break right after.”
“Thank you.” Langdon put his unoccupied hand into her hair, he got close to her ear and just let it all out. “Mel, I’m so sorry, I feel like I’m losing my mind. You’re strong, you can do this. Becca needs you, hell– I need you. Please stay with us, you’re more important than you’ll ever know, and I— I—” He started to choke up, putting his nose into her hair and inhaling the faint aroma of her shampoo over the metallic odor of blood. He sobbed into her hair, then softly kissed the top of her head. “I Love you, Mel. Fuck I love you. I’m so sorry.”
He reluctantly pulled his face back, then stood up, he only released her hand when Santos nodded for him to go sit down elsewhere. The look she gave him was some mix of sorrow and warmth while a small smirk played on her lips, it was a look that she’s never once thrown his way, and probably never would have if it didn’t have something to do with Mel.
He’d never say it, but he valued Trinity as a coworker, her sarcastic jabs at him brought life to his shifts, he almost saw her as an, albeit annoying, little sister. She clearly cared a lot about Mel, and he admired her ability to put her own emotions aside to give her friend a fighting chance.
He reluctantly slipped away, turning around every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear. If Mel was able to talk right now she’d probably call him, “The Worst Orpheus Ever”, and he would shoot back a quick remark about not being able to resist because she was the most beautiful Euridice he’s ever seen. He made a mental note to remember to tell her when she woke up.
If she woke up.
The negative thoughts were unwelcome, but so fucking overwhelming. He felt his vision tilt and spin like those fair rides Penny loved. He tried to journey over to the Green zone, but all he could see was Mel’s bloody form, unmoving. He sulked into the bathroom, sinking to the floor as he locked the door. The tears finally fell, he choked out sobs that wracked his whole body as he curled in on himself. He was so pathetic, would she want him to be strong right now? Would she want him to cry it out? He’s not sure.
He gingerly pulled out his phone and opened his photos app. He scrolled through all his photos of her, the candid shot of her watching Elf for the 200th time—literally, the video of her doing karaoke with Santos; her hair was down and flowing around her as she danced. He kept scrolling. He coughed out a weak laugh at the picture of her getting licked by his dog, he smiled at the live photo of her noticing him taking pictures of her at the department's monthly dinner party. She was so beautiful, more than she’d ever really know.
He turned his phone off and let himself cry, there was no use in upsetting himself more, wallowing in self pity was enough for him. What would she do if he was in her place? Would she put on a stone face and help him? Would she hide in the bathroom and break down? He hopes he never has to find out. The thought of Mel breaking like this while he’s unable to help her? It makes his chest hurt.
Around 10 minutes later, when his eyes run dry and he has the telltale post-crying headache, he stands up. A splash of cold water should work, right? He can only hope that when the cool liquid runs down his face he can start thinking clearly. He looks into the mirror, and his broken, tear streaked face looks back at him.
“Come on Frank, be strong.” He collects water in his cupped palms and throws it on his face.
He wipes his face roughly and shakes his hands at his side, hyping himself up to handle the disaster on the other side of the door. He hopes no one needed his help while he was having a nervous breakdown.
The first thing he noticed was the absence of Mel’s gurney in the main open space, which could mean one of two things:
- She was stable and awaiting surgery in another room.
or
- She was gone.
He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that it wasn’t the latter. So he decided to hunt down Santos and get the verdict, she would tell him the truth, while Robby would just tell him to focus on his job. He walked quickly through the ED, looking for the unmistakable short black ponytail. Unfortunately, his search was halted by a frazzled looking Whittaker who required his second opinion. Sorry Mel, duty calls.
It really was a simple procedure, set the fractured bone, and wrap. With Whittaker's luck, the patient was not cooperative—the woman was swinging her limp, grotesque arm around to avoid anyone touching it. The actions most definitely going to cause more serious injuries than she would probably like in the long run. Langdon’s temper was already short, but he made no move to hold back snapping at this woman. Patient satisfaction scores can kiss my fucking ass.
“I don’t fucking care that you can move it! If you keep swinging that shit around we’ll have to amputate!” He snapped, watching the woman’s face fall immediately. She slowly brought her arm towards the two doctors, allowing Whittaker to step in and explain how he’ll set her bone and put her in a splint.
Langdon considered his work done, and walked toward the door, but Whittaker quickly trailed him.
“Uh, Doctor Langdon, I don’t mean to pry but is everything okay? Well, obviously not, because of all this but uh—”
“Nothing’s been okay today, Fuckleberry.” Santos’ sarcastic response appeared right next to him. Perfect, he had to ask her about Mel.
He turned towards the shorter woman, her eyes met his with a knowing glance. She looked around and pulled him to the side, leaning her shoulder against the wall.
“So? Is she okay?” Langdon asked, bracing his hands on her slim shoulders. Her eyes flicked between his, clearly fighting back some sort of internal conflict.
“I– God, Frank,” She’s using his first name, this can’t mean anything good. “I don’t know how to say this, but—.” She couldn't look him in the eyes anymore.
“Wh–What? No— I–” He could feel his eyes burning and aching to release tears again.
“She’s— she’s gonna make a full recovery, dumbass. Just waiting on an OR now.” Her eyes met his again, a sly smirk sliding on her lips.
“You– You made me so worried, asshole!” He laughed, wiping the few tears from his waterline. “Wait, can I see her?”
“Yeah, she’s stable now.” She sighed, the smirk turning into a more genuine smile. “But, she’s not in good shape, just a warning.”
“I don’t care, as long as she’s alive.” He quickly followed Santos through the crowd of doctors, around gurneys, between crying patients, and right outside of the trauma room.
“Again, I just— she’s not looking too good right now… She got really hurt but we saved her, let me tell you, she’s a fucking fighter.” She laughed, moving from her position in front of the door.
Frank carefully pushed the door open, then energy in the confined space was dull, almost melancholic. He paused at the foot of Mel’s bed, his hands shaking slightly, he carefully moved toward the side of her bed, gripping the rails as he released an unsteady breath that he didn't remember holding.
There she was, blood soaking partially through her bandages, her eyes closed in a more content expression—no longer contorted in agony—though he could still see the bloody tear streaks that ran all across her face, she was breathing on her own now, she was hooked up to so many different machines, it terrified him. He used to think nothing of these procedures when doing them on patients; strangers. But now? On someone he held so close? It made his skin crawl in a way that made him want to get all those tubes off her and just… Hold her.
He was suddenly reminded of the prayer Robby had taught him—well, he was telling a patient, but Langdon was close by and attentive.
I’m Sorry.
“Mel, I’m sorry for not being honest with you or myself these past few months, that ring I wear? It has no meaning anymore. I just keep wearing it to avoid the rumor mill. I’ve been divorced for two months now. You’re important to me.” He pictured a ring on his finger—having recently removed his previous one in order to care for patients, but this time it was different. Visually and contextually. It had an essence of Mel in the engraving and vibe of it. It warmed his skin instead of burning it.
Please Forgive Me.
“Please forgive me for anything I may have done, even if I’ve already apologized. I know how you tend to let things get under your skin.” He pictured her wringing her hands together, placing those same hands flat on her shoulders, softly whispering things to herself, and looking down while shaking her head lightly.
Thank You.
“Thank you for always being there for me, especially when I’m in one of my moods. For always helping me with those cases that hit closer to home than either of us would like. For not thinking about my past as something to be ashamed of.” He pictured her soft smile and caring visage as he talked about his marital problems, his past addiction, his fear of everyone he cares about just up-and-leaving him.
I Love You.
“Doctor Melissa King. I love you more than words can describe, it pains me to see you like this, it hurts me that you try to hide how you feel from me just because of this dumb piece of metal on my finger. No, I didn’t realize it myself until Santos literally cornered me and made me think about how I really felt about you.” He laughed, squeezing her hand softly. He pictured her eyes always finding his across the room, no matter the circumstances or conversational context.
He watched her chest rise and fall steadily, lacing his fingers with hers. If he could stay here forever, he would. If Mel was awake right now she’d probably tell him to go be a doctor and not to work himself up over her, she would claim she was completely fine, and he would use his firm-but-not-stern ‘Mel’ voice, telling her to rest. He laughed a little at the thought.
He was so far gone for her. Santos was so gonna rag on him for this when it all blew over. But he didn't care, as long as Mel was next to him.