Chapter Text
Morning. Silence beyond the window, save rain tapping glass. Shift starts in two hours, yet Frank lies in bed, staring at the ceiling still not quite awake. Beside him his wife he watches her aware he has everything like kids, a home, job. And still, something feels absent.
He rises reluctantly, moves to the bathroom. Everyone says a cold shower in the morning jolts you awake, sparks energy. Frank considers this bullshit, yet he endures it, hoping the promised effect, that hollow societal placebo,might finally arrive.
He steps out, heads to the kitchen. His cup waits on the table with the dregs of yesterday’s coffee. He pours them out, refills with fresh black coffee, no sugar. Sets it down, sits. Calm morning silence. he bet if he didn’t know people lived here, he’d probably think the house had been empty for years. Frank likes it.
Harmony surrounds him. Stillness. He should be content. Everything is arranged for happiness yet he cannot feel it. As though something inside dulls his capacity for satisfaction, numbs it even as he registers pain with vivid clarity, as sharply as any negative emotion. Maybe he isolated himself from emotions and his job could help with that. he don't know exactly.
He takes a sip, glances at the clock. An hour to make the drive. He hates being late. Dressing quickly, he grabs his keys, bids her a silent goodbye, and steps out. His car sat in a lot not his own. The spot beside it was always taken—when he parked in someone else's space, they'd curse him. He didn't care.
The drive took thirty minutes. Much more with traffic.
Robbie never scolded him for lateness. Frank was grateful for that, he'd heard a lot of stories of friends' bosses, the way they'd scold a man down for walking in late. Robbie was different. Perfect, in Frank's eyes.
An ambulance screamed past. Langdon jolted back to himself. He was nearing the hospital now, mentally bracing for the shift ahead. Routine took over sit in the car another ten minutes, recline the seat, thinking.
He checked the time. Time to go.
Inside, the crowd's roar swallowed him whole. Patients waiting, some for hours. It wore on them some lunged at the emerging doctors like starved animals scenting prey, desperate to know when their turn would come.
Frank understood. He'd grown used to it, but he knew if his own family waited this long for care, he'd be mad too. but there's nothing to help with it.
The locker room was empty. He opened his compartment, stowed his bag, pulled off his shirt to swap for scrubs. The door swung open. Frank froze.
"You're early today, Langdon."
Robbie stepped inside, fully calm. His gaze passed over Frank's bare torso as he opened his own locker and began putting his things away.
"Yeah… I… Wait, what time is it?" Frank yanked the shirt on, hair tousled—he left it that way.
Robbie glanced at his watch. "Seven-forty."
"Shit. My watch is fast. Thought I was running late." Langdon looped his ID badge over his neck and looked at Robbie.
Robbie, in turn, shrugged off the hoodie he always wore. Frank liked it or rather like the way it sat on him.
"Well, reset it. Lateness isn't good, but you need sleep fine. If you don't it might affects on your work. Your general state too." Robbie shut his locker. "I'll meet you outside He slipped out.
Frank stood there by his locker, hair still disheveled.
He come the patient board, scanning names, when paramedics burst through with a gurney. He moved without thought, meeting them, taking the patient wheeling him into an open bay. Other staff helped lift the man onto the bed.
"What do we have?" Robbie entered, his gaze sweeping the room with quiet authority before settling on Langdon. Waiting. Expecting an answer from him.
"Male, forty-three. Two gunshot wounds back and shoulder. Heavy bleeding. Possible cardiac involvement." the words came fast, precise, while something inside him tightened. He always getting nervous around him. try to not make mistakes.
Robbie pulled on gloves, took his place beside Langdon. "Good. Let's assess. Roll him on his side." A pause, eyes on the patient. "Uh… we might need an extra hand. Because of his… build."
The nurses gripped the patient and on command rolled him forward. Langdon lifted the shoulder too sharply both arms, a sudden jerk and pain lanced through his back. He winced, shoving through it. Robbie was there, helping, their fingers slightly touched. Too close. Frank turned his face away, hiding the sweat that beaded on his brow and the pain.
"One through-and-through. Second is lodged close to the heart. We need to make sure it's intact." Robbie's voice was all command. "Langdon, assist me."
Frank turned. Robbie's eyes lingered, a silent question «you all right?» but Frank only nodded and began examining the wound.
Lucky. The bullet had missed everything vital. The surgeons took the patient up without incident. Frank stripped off his gloves and stepped out, one hand pressing his back, replaying that sharp jolt. As a doctor, he knew a pulled muscle, it would fade in hours. But the pain itself unsettled him. It threw him off, gnawed at focus.
He sank into a chair, elbows on knees, hoping the ache would ease. He couldn't work like this. His eyes rolled skyward.
"Hey, you all right?" Dana's voice wrapped around him, soft. She came close, a hand settling on his shoulder. Something about her reminded him of a mother maybe the caring kind.
"Yeah. I'm fine." A lie. but he'd never let anyone see otherwise. Never give anyone a chance to know something was wrong. It ate at him, but he held.
"I can see that." A pause. "Listen. If you wanna have a talk, I'm here. Right here. Always" She gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
He caught the implication. Stood too fast his back seized again.
"Sorry. Just.. nowhere to sit. I've got a patient. I'm going." He turned sharply, made for the board, picked a name at random fast, and headed down the hall. Distraction. Work would help. He'd manage.
"Hello. I'm Dr. Langdon. What brings you in?" He entered, pulling on gloves. A young woman lay in the bed.
"Stomach pain. I've been lying here for probably an hour waiting. I think it's getting worse… or maybe I'm imagining it."
"All right." He stepped closer, studying her. "Where does it hurt?"
"Right here. Middle." She gestured with her right hand.
"Tell me if you feel anything." He began palpating, watching her face for response.
"There. Ow—" She flinched, curling inward. Frank drew his hands back quickly.
"Right. I'll order an ultrasound. That will give us a clearer picture."
"Is it serious?" Concern crept into her voice.
"I can't say for sure. Hopefully not. I'll tell more after the scan."
He left the room and headed toward the nurses' station.
"Um, the girl in...." He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the room number, then gave up, gesturing vaguely down the hall. "That one. Needs an ultrasound." The words came out clipped. The pain makes him unfocused and forgetful. it's annoying as much as useless he became because of it.
Around 2pm, he finished with a boy who'd taken an iron rod through the leg. Now he sat in what passed for quiet in this building, drinking tea. Sitting made the pain bearable. He'd thrown his back out before, but never like this. Maybe age. Though he wasn't old enough to be falling apart.
"Taking a break?"
Robbie's voice came from behind, calm.
Frank exhaled. "Yeah… couple more hours, then home." He raised the cup to his lips.
"Dreaming about runaway to home fast?" Robbie poured himself tea and settled beside him.
"Who isn't? This place grinds you down. I know it sounds like i don't like my work, i do, truly. but the deal is... i just don't know how make myself live through it.." He drank. Warmth slid down his throat.
"You need to find something to hold onto. Something good. Even if it's odd. Or strange." Robbie shrugged, gaze fixed on Frank. "Finding the good in the boring hell it kinda helps. Gets you through." Langdon had always been his best. His student. Robbie took pride in him. Gave advice from his own experience when it was needed, and Frank let him.
"I'll… think about that. thanks." Langdon rose, something shifting behind his eyes. The words had lodged themselves somewhere. A simple truth—one he already knew—yet they'd caught him off guard. Made him pause.
He headed for the door.