Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Today is the day.
My heart stutters in excitement thinking about finally seeing him again.
My first friend in Pittsburgh, the first person at PTMC to show me support, is supposed to be starting his first shift today. He took an extended leave of absence from work while he worked through the early stages of recovery from his addiction to benzodiazepines. I actually don’t know much about it, but I’ve heard people talk about it. There was a false alarm last week when there were rumors he was coming in, but today is official. I heard Dana, our charge nurse, talking about him yesterday.
I can’t help the way excitement is making me walk fast.
I turn the corner and sure enough, there stands Dr. Langdon.
The speed of my walk quickens, and I rush over to him.
“You’re back!”
What do I do with my hands? My entire being wants to hug him, but I stop myself at the last minute, thank God, and instead pat his arm.
He smiles at me and I’m filled with butterflies.
I only worked one shift with him, but that one shift left an impression. My first day was not easy, but Dr. Langdon made the day so much better. Even through the Pitt Fest tragedy, he was in my corner at every turn.
Moving to Pittsburgh was terrifying. I wouldn’t have left the VA if Becca hadn’t needed a higher level of care. She found a living facility she liked here, and I followed without hesitation. Her well-being dictates mine. Going from the VA to working at PTMC was initially incredibly intimidating.
Dr. Langdon made it feel okay.
The butterflies are probably from him being my first Pittsburgh crush, but that’s neither here nor there. He is married, and I just want to be his friend. That is all I have ever allowed myself to want.
I have been looking forward to working another shift with Dr. Langdon for the last ten months. This day is going to be amazing.
“Langdon, you can stick with Dr. King today. She calls the shots,” Dr. Robby says.
Dr. Langdon raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“It’s been a while. Take some time to work out your sea legs.”
I see the reluctance cross Dr. Langdon’s face. Just ten months ago, I was one of his trainees. He has much more experience than I do, so I understand his reluctance. I’m not sure I would trust me either, given the limited time we’ve worked together. He finally says, “Sure thing.”
“What do we have?” I ask as the EMTs wheel in a patient on a gurney.
“15 year old female. House fire from a stray firework. Burns to chest and arms. Airway’s patent, but she’s getting hoarse.”
“Not good,” I hear Dr. Langdon murmur.
I look at the patient, whose eyes are darting in fear.
“Hi, my name is Dr. King and this is Dr. Langdon,” I say, leaning toward the patient. “What’s your name?”
Dr. Langdon begins checking her blood pressure and heart rate.
“Hannah,” she says. A faint smell of smoke clings to her hair and clothing.
“Hannah, can you tell us what happened?”
“It all happened so fast. My younger siblings were playing with fireworks outside and out of nowhere, I started smelling smoke. I tried to get out of the house quickly, but I couldn’t find our cat.” Her voice sounds hoarse.
“BP 122/78. She’s tachycardic, 140,” Dr. Langdon says.
“What’s your call, Langdon?”
When he hesitates, I continue, “Airway first,” I say. “We will deal with the burns after.”
Dr. Langdon dips his head and takes a step back so that I can take the lead. His usual confidence is missing in his movements. He moves to the head of the bed.
“Everything is going to be okay, Hannah. You’re in great hands,” Dr. Langdon says. “Start taking some deep breaths for me. What is your cat’s name?”
I call over another doctor to assist. Dr Whitaker jogs over and moves to the monitor.
“Hannah, we are going to need to intubate. With how hoarse you are, I don’t want to gamble with your ability to breathe. We will be right here the whole time.”
She nods, tears running down her soot covered face.
After intubating the patient, I send her with Dr. Langdon and Dr. Whitaker for burn wound care. I stand at the computer, knocking out some quick documentation.
I’m not used to seeing this new version of Dr. Langdon, full of decreased confidence and hesitation. Just ten months ago, the roles were reversed.
“How are you doing?” I ask Dr. Langdon, taking a sip of my tea in the break room.
He sips his coffee. “Bizarre day.”
“I bet.”
“I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
“I think you’re doing great.”
“Seems like I’ve lost my touch.”
I shake my head. “I disagree. You’ve also only been back for a couple hours.”
“True.” He laughs. “Maybe I need to give it some time.”
“You’ll be back to your usual self in no time.”
“But look at you.” He gestures his coffee mug toward me. “You’ve come a long way since our last shift.”
“Thanks.” I adjust my glasses to give my hands something to do. I’m not accustomed to compliments.
“You were already the best of your group when I left. You’re going to be running this ED one day.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I’m serious, Dr. King. I’m glad I get to work with you today.”
I smile. “Me too.”
“How’s our burn patient?” I ask Dr. Whitaker, later in the shift.
As he’s answering, I hear Dr. Langdon’s unmistakable voice around the corner, coming from the security guard station.
“She’s definitely quirky.”
“She was all over you, man. I thought she was going to mount you right there in the middle of the ED. She must’ve heard that you and Abby are done.”
He and his wife are done? What does that mean?
Did they get a divorce? Are they separated?
Why do I care?
“Maybe, man,” Langdon says with a laugh, amusement and agreement clear in his voice.
“What are the chances you hit that?” I recognize Ahmad’s voice.
“Zero. Absolutely zero.”
“You don’t want me to put it on the betting board?”
“No chance.”
“Are you guys even friends?”
“I have only worked with her for a few hours. No.”
“Dr. King would obviously disagree.”
I hear Langdon snort.
“Yeah, she’s kind of intense.”
The group laughs.
They’re talking about me.
I run through the words again, the meaning shifting now that I know the cruelty was aimed at me.
The humor in his voice hits me in the stomach. I am the butt of a joke.
This morning he looked at me like we were equals and like he respected me.
I thought we were friends.
I must have imagined that too.
I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“Mel?” Dr. Whittaker asks, interrupting my eavesdropping.
I shake my head to bring myself back to the moment.
“Oh-uh, yeah. Sorry.” My voice sounds shaky. “Could you repeat that?”
He gives me a funny look, but repeats himself.
I do my best to answer his questions, all while hurt courses through me.