Chapter Text
around 6:40 AM September 6, 2025
Everything was going to be fine today, Mel reminded herself again. MCIs don't happen every day.
When her feet still refused to move towards the hospital entrance, she turned, stepping over to the bench about fifteen feet away instead. She sat carefully–the dew had not dried yet–and dug her AirPods out of her jacket pocket.
“I’m her, her, her, her, her, her, her, her, she, she, she, she, she, she, she,” she chanted under her breath in time with Meg.
Mel allowed herself the rest of Her to regulate her nerves a bit more, then used the beat drop in Gift & A Curse to trick her legs into propelling her up and inside PTMC before they could realize what was happening.
As she walked briskly into Central, she surreptitiously glanced around. It seemed as if Nurse Dana, Dr. Langdon, and Dr. Mohan were missing. Mel was careful to keep her disappointment equally distributed between the three absences; she definitely did not let her heart squeeze painfully when she realized Dr. Langdon, in particular, was missing.
Even if neither of the doctors who Mel had thought might serve as mentors were here for her second day at PTMC, that was the nature of the job. The perpetually-understaffed V.A. might have been a constant parade of familiar faces, but she was at a Level 1 trauma center now–of course things were different.
And Mel was different, too! Definitely since the V.A., and even since yesterday morning. She was an R2. She had led an entire zone of triage in a mass casualty incident last night and she was still here on time and ready to help people. The blood had been cleaned up and medical equipment would only be used for its intended purpose again.
She could do this.
As she turned the corner to the lockers, she pulled her lanyard with her keys free from her neck–disentangling it from her braid with practiced ease–and began digging in her bag for her tube of Aquaphor. This distracted her just enough to only realize that two of the other new doctors–-or maybe one of them was a med student? Mel kicked herself mentally for not remembering-–were already standing by the lockers when they abruptly stopped talking. She looked up.
Dr. Javadi’s eyes were very wide. Beside her, Dr. Santos’s eyes were narrowed. Mel watched as Santos’s face flipped rapidly between three expressions-–smugness, apology?, and something Mel couldn’t identify-–before it smoothed easily into a friendly look.
“Hey, Mel, right? Please tell me you got more than three hours of sleep last night-–Crash and I were comparing notes, and there’s gotta be someone who won’t be falling asleep standing up today.”
“Please stop calling me that,” Dr. Javadi muttered quietly. “Friends respect each other's wishes when it comes to shitty nicknames.” Dr. Santos ignored this, looking at Mel expectantly.
“Oh. Um. No, I actually only got about three hours. But that’s normal. For me.” Mel became aware that she was clutching the strap of her bag in front of her chest tightly with both hands. Possibly she still didn’t know what to make of Dr. Santos, who was saying it was nice talking to her in one moment and vanishing without a goodbye in the next. Possibly she was anxious about being late on her second day even though it wasn’t even 6:50 yet. Possibly she needed to stop doing it because her keys were digging into her left hand painfully.
Mel realized she had stopped listening to Dr. Santos and tuned back in just in time to hear her say, “--so that part is going to suck, sure. But the rest of it I honestly think is better for us.”
“What?” Mel asked.
Dr. Mohan–-no, Samira, Mel reminded herself–-poked her head around the corner. Mel felt a bit of relief at seeing one of the people who she thought she had connected with the day before, and definitely the exact same amount of relief she would have felt if it was Dr. Langdon instead.
“Good morning, fellow residents! Robby just called a huddle before handoff.”
Dr. Santos suddenly looked alarmed. “Oh, shit, I have to text Huckleberry.” She threw her locker open again and began typing rapidly on her phone. Mel, Samira, and Dr. Javadi watched bemusedly as she made a face at whatever response she received and tossed it back in her locker. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
Dr. Robby had his arms crossed, leaning against the Hub main desk. He was talking with Perlah, who was standing at the charge nurse desk, so Dana probably was actually on leave; Mel wasn’t surprised. She scanned the faces of her colleagues, who were arranged in a vaguely circular shape in front of the Hub. No Dr. Langdon. No Dana. No Dr. McKay? Mel racked her memory for the shift schedule she had looked at just a few minutes ago. She was certain that Dr. McKay had been listed, just like she was certain Dr. Langdon had been; their names were listed “King, Langdon, McKay” on the schedule. She made a mental note to always check the online version, rather than download the PDF.
Dr. Robby clapped his hands loudly. “Alright, everyone, just wanted to touch base before day shift takes over. Yesterday was a lot, and unfortunately we have some more news for you today that might be a lot as well.
“Our fearless charge nurse, Dana, is not here this morning–-she is taking a well-deserved leave of absence. As some of you may be aware, she was assaulted by a patient yesterday before the MCI, and she stuck it out even with a fractured orbital bone, so we insisted that she let herself take some rest for once. She will be gone at least three weeks; in the meantime, Lena will be working day shift a bit more often, and Perlah has agreed to take on some shifts as charge nurse. There’s a card,” he held it up, “at the Hub. Anyone who wants to sign is welcome; Dr. Collins will be bringing it by to Dana along with some gift cards at the end of the week.”
Samira raised her hand. “How do we contribute to the gift card balance?”
Dr. Robby pointed at her. “That sounds like a great question for Dr. Collins and not me.” He swiveled so that he was pointing at Dr. Collins instead. “Any thoughts, Collins?”
Dr. Collins rolled her eyes, then smiled at Samira. “I was planning on getting a couple of gift cards, one to that meal service she likes and one to Starbucks. I’ll send my Zelle information in a few group chats.”
“Thanks,” Samira smiled back.
“All right,” Dr. Robby announced. “Few more announcements still, please bear with me. Dr. McKay had to take the morning off unexpectedly to deal with some legal concerns, so Dr. Ellis will be sticking around until she’s able to make it in…”
Dr. Ellis winked at Dr. Santos, who immediately whipped her head back to look at Robby.
“..and Dr. Langdon is going to be out on leave for a while as well, to deal with an urgent personal matter.”
Mel’s hand shot up before she registered her decision to raise it. “How long will he be out?”
Dr. Robby squinted at her as he briefly tilted his head, then dragged his hand across his face as he said, “At least a couple months, he wasn’t able to give us specifics. We will let you all know if he’s coming back when we know ourselves.”
“If?” Dr. Santos repeated in unison with Mel.
Dr. Robby shifted his gaze to the ceiling. He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. “When. When he’s coming back.”
Mel worked mechanically and methodically through Chairs, her thoughts swirling.
Maybe his wife got a job somewhere else, she thought, as she sutured a 19-year-old’s ear lobe. He had gotten his earring hooked onto his girlfriend’s belly button piercing, somehow, and he was the unlucky tug of war loser. Maybe they’re moving to Chicago or Los Angeles or Dallas and he has to take time off to find a hospital there that will let him transfer his residency when it’s almost over.
She absentmindedly debrided a burn on an older woman’s neck where she had held her curling iron too close. And too long, for some reason-–her neck looked like tissue paper. Maybe he has PTSD. Maybe he only made it through last night because of the adrenaline but now he needs to recover from a massive breakdown.
She walked a young man through the medication schedule for his doxycycline prescription, a spiel she unfortunately already knew by heart. Maybe his wife has cancer. Maybe one of his kids has cancer. Maybe he has cancer.
As night shift was trickling in, she hovered by the Hub, waiting for Dr. Robby without letting herself acknowledge that was what she was doing. She wouldn’t let herself ask about Dr. Langdon if she thought about it for more than the two seconds beforehand.
He approached the Hub from North while looking at an iPad that Dr. Santos was gesturing at. He was nodding, but he was frowning. Mel tried to remember if she had ever seen him make an expression besides frowning. Nothing came to mind. He said something to Dr. Santos, who nodded, beaming, and took off.
“Good evening, Dr. Robby,” she said.
Dr. Robby looked up from the iPad, which he still had. “Hey, Mel. Can I help you with something?”
She shifted uncomfortably, bringing her hands up to curl around the ends of her stethoscope so she could pull it lightly against her neck, grounding herself. “I wanted to ask if there was any more information you could share about Dr. Langdon’s absence? I-–”
“No.” Dr. Robby interrupts. “There isn’t.”
The stethoscope wasn’t helping. Mel started twisting her hands together. “Is there going to be anything like a card like for Dana?” If it was a situation that called for a card. Although cards could be for congratulations as well as cancer.
Dr. Robby held up a hand suddenly. “Dr. Langdon’s absence is not any of our business. He is in communication with hospital administration and HR, and when they have information I need to know, they will tell it to me. If I decide that any of it is something that you–-or anyone else-–need to know, I will share it then. Are we on the same page?”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I understand, Dr. Robby. Have a good night.”
Mel chewed on her thumbnail, staring at her phone in its charging dock on her dashboard. She hadn’t left the parking lot at PTMC yet, despite it being well past 7pm.
Sure, the private bits aren’t my business, she reasoned. But anything that is on the internet is public information, and therefore everyone’s business.
Rationalization made, she picked her phone up determinedly and typed Doctor F Langdon into Google. God, she didn’t even know what F stood for. Hopefully, he had public social media accounts and she would be able to see if he had made any posts recently. Was a cancer diagnosis something people announced on Instagram? They hadn’t done it for her mother, but maybe–-
The search was loading. The top result hit her like a grenade: her stomach was in pieces.
In re Licensure of Frank Langdon. It was recent, too. She did some clicking around, but none of the documents were public. There was no way to see if his license had been suspended or revoked. (Also, Frank? Really? Not at all what she would have guessed.)
The next result was worse. It was a criminal case. This one let her look at the criminal complaint, but it basically just said what the charges were. Although those were bad enough-–possession of a controlled substance, adulteration of a controlled substance (she had to look the word up. Why not just say contamination? or dilution, whichever applied), and acquisition of a controlled substance by misrepresentation or subterfuge. The last one was a felony!
Mel reminded herself she had known the man for less than a day. It wasn't like she had run a background check on him. She put her phone down on the charging dock and started the car. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she started making a mental list of all the reasons it was a bad idea to try to learn more about Dr. Langdon’s criminal case, or look for a way to reach out in general.
Unfortunately, she kept coming back to the giddy realization that she had had the night before, which she had carefully tucked into the back of her mind as Becca sang along to Santa Claus is Coming to Town, ready to be returned to whenever she needed something to lift her mood.
I’ve never felt so seen so quickly.