Chapter Text
The day was a write off.
A shitty fucking write off and it wasn’t even five yet.
Frank had gotten in early- a half hour early- and instead of having time to ease into the chaos of the ER he was needed immediately due to a major MVC.
It was hell- two of the involved patients coded- they were able to resuscitate one, but unfortunately the Mayer’s Grandfather was pronounced at 13:42.
The entire ED had felt the loss.
Apparently, he’d been out with his granddaughters when they saw the collision, he stepped in front of them to block their view when a piece of shrapnel launched itself into his side. Though the adrenaline rush he’d had at the time must have blocked him from realizing how bad it had been. He'd spent his last hours alive helping those he could.
Mayers was in the waiting room when he’d collapsed- Aortic Rupture. By the time they found it there was nothing they could have done.
Mel was with his granddaughters in a room waiting on their parents. Hopefully by now they were on their way- the kids didn’t need to spend any more time in a hospital alone than they needed to.
Frank tried not to think of his kids.
-They were around the same age as the Mayers, Tanner was a bit taller... But who knows? Maybe by now he’d had his growth spurt- Langdon had his own around Tanner’s age- maybe he was tall enough to reach the cereal shelf now...
Langdon’s last memory of them was the glimpse he got of their confused faces while stuffing his entire life into his old duffle bags. Abby was kneeled down in front of them, explaining why their father wouldn’t be around anymore. “Your daddy’s... he’s sick- he’s gotta go away for a while.”
Tanner clutched his truck in clumsy fingers “How long is he gonna be gone?”
He heard the catch in Abby’s breath before she answered. “... It’ll be a long time.”
“But he’ll be better?” Tanner sounder so hopeful, it shattered something yet unbroken in his heart, “He’ll be gone but then he’ll be better?”
“I hope so, honey.”
A door slammed beside him, shocking him out of that chain of thought.
He wasn’t at home.
He wasn’t with his family.
He wasn’t in rehab anymore- Thank god-
No, he was at work.
The wallowing could be done later. In whatever hotel he found himself at tonight, or more likely in the kicked back seat of his jeep.
For now, he was Doctor Langdon.
He could be “rehab graduate, homeless, shitty dad Frank” later.
Now there was shit to do.
He heard the yelling from inside, right as he was about to take his lunch, Santos and a clearly male voice getting louder by the second out in the ambulance bay.
When he got outside he took in the picture, Doctor Santos arguing with a man around Langdon's height and age. The man looked fine physically- no blood, but his clothes were dirty from long wear without a wash.
The stranger was agitated, though. “Just bring him out.” He sounded close to snapping
“Sir, we can’t do that. But-” He stepped in and held up a hand before the man could interrupt. “-If you tell us who you are, we can get you in to see him. Do you have your ID?”
The man huffed, “I don’t like hospitals.” He did begin refiling through his pockets.
Langdon let a quick smile across his face, “Yeah, few do.”
Eventually he found his ID, passing it to Santos. When she read it her eyes widened, though she quickly covered it. It didn’t seem like the man caught it.
Langdon did, however.
When she passed him the ID he saw why.
Adam Mayers.
Shit.
“My brother said he was here with the kids.”
Shit, shit.
“Yes, they were brought in.” Langdon kept his voice even. “I think we should talk about your father inside, though.”
Adam frowned, glancing behind himself and between the two doctors. He must have decided to be amicable, because he followed Santos and Langdon inside without argument.
Langdon pointed him to the check in table at reception. While he was sure Adam couldn’t hear, he leaned in to speak to Santos, “I can take care of this alone.”
She frowned, “Are you saying I can’t?”
Langdon sighed, looking to the roof. Ten months gone and he’d forgotten how combative she could be.
She has good reason to be- you were a dick. His mind reminded him, helpfully.
“No, I do- it’s just- this is rough news to share.”
Santos pursed her lips, she clearly wanted to be mad at him, but it was hard to argue you wanted to be the one to deliver the news of a dead parent.
Instead she went with, “Well, I’m invested now- so you’re stuck with me.”
“Fine. Great.” Langdon tried not to let any of his exhaustion slip into his voice, but the glare Santos shot him made him think he wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped to be.
He wasn’t just tired with her. He was tired with life.
He’d spent the last four nights in his jeep, parked out by the campgrounds on the edge of town, the seat was a bitch on his back- and the cold of the Pittsburgh evenings didn’t help any.
But Santos couldn’t know that- no fuckin’ way could she know that- To her, he was just a dick. As usual.
“I was just trying to be nice.” He tried.
“Sounded a lot like you being patronizing."
Adam appeared next to them. “Can we go? I wanna get home.”
“Just.. in here,” Langdon brought them into an open room.
Adam frowned, “It’s empty.”
“Yeah, it’s just- there’s some things we should discuss before we bring you to him.”
Langdon noticed Adam’s fists tightening and opening, something uncomfortable settled in his gut.
Hey, people need to deal with stress in their own ways. The voice in his head that sounded like one of his university professors reminded him. Don’t jump to conclusions.
Just to be safe, Langdon took the seat closer to Adam, putting himself between him and Santos, who was standing by the door.
He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Your father was involved with the major collision on forty first today." He said carefully.
Adam shook his head, "No, no way- he doesn't drive."
Langdon bit his lip. "He was a civilian nearby when the accident occurred."
Behind him, Santos continued. "He was helping some people trapped in their cars. We... don't think he realized he was injured as well.
"W-what are you saying?"
"We're saying..." Langdon prepared himself for what he had to say next. "Your father collapsed in our waiting room at 11:50 this morning, we tried resuscitation but it was unsuccessful. He passed away at 13:42."
Adam was frozen in front of them. It wasn't an uncommon reaction to that kind of news, Langdon turned back to Santos, "Doctor Santos and I can bring you in to see him, but you have to prepare for-"
He saw Santos, eyes go wide just before a hand grabbed his bicep. He felt himself being pulled back and up into a large body- deceptively strong but hidden by the oversized hoodie and slouch Adam had entered with.
“Oh fucking shit-” Santo’s voice was muffled.
Before he had a chance to think about what was happening a hand gripped his hair none to gently and a clang from the table beside him made his stomach drop.
Adam had him by the scalp, an arm across his chest holding a scalpel to the side of his neck.
Instinctively, Langdon grabbed at the arm holding him against Adam’s chest, all that did was jostle the scalper closer to his carotid. He was on his feet, but barely. Curved like a bow his back was screaming but that was background noise in comparison to the way his mind was screaming, “Oh, you’re so fucked.”
“Hey- whoa whoa, hey-” Santos eyes the door warily, as though she was pleading for someone else to have heard the commotion. But that was unlikely; with the ever present chaos of the ED, and the risk that another bust of noise could end with Langdon leaving his shift early- and permanently- it was just them. “Let’s just take a breath.”
“That’s- that’s not my dad, where is he?” This close, there was a smell Langdon recognized, one that signalled this was likely to go very wrong, very fast-
Adam was using.
“We can find him, but you have to let La- Doctor Langdon go first.”
Adam was shaking. “No, nono- just bring him in. Bring. My Dad. In.” the room spun as he shook Langdon for emphasis.
“I-”
The door clicked, in came Mohan with her head in her clipboard. “Santos, in your chart it sa- oh my god-”
“W-who is she, who are you?!” Adam’s voice raised, the arm tightened around around his neck and in his hair. Langdon couldn’t hide his wince.
“I- My name’s Doctor Mohan.” Samira quickly caught herself, throwing on the calm doctor persona like a second skin. “What’s the problem here?”
“They- they’re saying he’s dead!” Adam pulled Langdon farther in, making him bend back further. Bolts of pain shooting up his spine. “- They’re lying! He’s not- He can’t be..”
Mohan and Santos shared a look. It wasn’t hard to guess this was Mayers’ son.
Still, Mohan played along. “Ok, they shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” She spoke carefully. “What’s your name?”
“M-Mayers, Adam Mayers.” The arm around his neck tightened, the scalpel getting dangerously close to his throat.
“Ok. We have a John Mayers in. I treated him myself.” Mohan’s hands shook only slightly when she pressed them to her chest. “We’ll take you to him, alright? We can take you to him, but- you have to let Doctor Langdon go.”
He felt Adam’s head shaking above him. “He said my dad was dead!”
“It was a mistake! A mistake-” The second he spoke he felt Adam’s forearm digging into his throat.
Santo’s caught where he was going. “-We had a ton of casualties today, it was a big accident. He- We must have mistook your dad for someone else.”
Through the chaos, Langdon couldn’t help but commend how well they were both handling this.
Santos continued. “We were wrong... He was wrong- But Doctor Mohan is saying she can bring you to him, she’s the best doctor we have. You can trust her.”
Adam was shaking more now. “I’m not letting him go until I see my dad.” He felt a sting as the scalpel pierced the side of his neck. Langdon tried to reflexively lean away, but the grip Adam had in his hair was like iron.
“Ok, we can- we can bring you to him, just... let me get someone-”
“Who?!” Adam was deteriorating by the moment.
Langdon noticed the edges of his sight going black.
He was gonna die.
Probably.
“... I just need to find the other doctor who’s treating your father. H-He’ll know the room he’s in now.” Mohan didn’t turn her back as she went for the door. She paused when her hand grasped the handle, when Adam didn’t stab Langdon to death for it she opened the door enough to poke her head out.
“Dr Armstrong? Can we get Dr Armstrong? Now?”
Dr Armstrong- code for a combative patient.
Ok, so there was a plan.
Just so happened that the plan was likely gonna end with Langdon stabbed.
He should probably feel worse about that.
But, weirdly, he didn’t.
If this was how he was gonna go- it was how he was gonna go.
There was something calming about the knowledge he had no control.
Maybe... maybe this was how it was always gonna be
He wouldn’t get off this mortal coil himself- he always knew he couldn’t- but he flirted with the line enough times to be familiar with the feeling. The feeling that came when you were looking over that abyss- the feeling you got instead of fear.
The dangerous feeling.
There was a selfish voice in his head- selfish and wrong, he knew- that hoped this was the last time.
He didn’t know how many more times he could bounce back.
Langdon was so in his head, he didn’t process what was happening until he felt his legs moving without his say so. Adam was nearly dragging him towards the door, scalpel still dangerously close to his neck.
The moment they got out the door there was an explosion of movement.
Clearly, there was noise and there was pain.
Everything else was a blur.
Langdon knew he was on the ground.
... At least, he was pretty sure.
He was looking up at Ahmad, who was shoving Adam into the wall.
Adam didn’t have the scalpel in his hand anymore.
Did he drop it?
Langdon tried to look around for it. But his movement was halted by two firm hands on the sides of his head.
Santos’ face popped in, obscuring his vision. “Don’t- Don’t move, ok?”
Why shouldn’t he move?
Is question was answered by the screaming pain in his neck. Only a bit above his collarbone.
“Fuck-” He swore, it was warbled.
“What the hell- Langdon!” If it couldn’t get worse- Robby shoved through the bustle towards him, face red. He was looking between Langdon’s face and his neck.
Above him, just out of his line of sight, Santos spoke. “Trapezius muscle puncture. Doesn’t look like it got the carotid, though.” He could almost imagine she sounded worried.
Robby was knelt above him now.
“It’s... Bad?” Langdon felt the strange urge to laugh, but he tamped it down.
“It’s not good.” Robby’s face didn’t change, he did put more pressure around his wound. “But you’re gonna be alright.”
“It’s ok.”
Robby nodded, “It will be.”
He turned to an out of focus blob Langdon assumed was Mohan. “Be ready, we’re gonna need a foley catheter balloon when we transfer him- and wheres the goddamn backboard-”
Langdon really didn’t want the last thing he heard to be Robby pissed and frantic.
He grabbed onto Robby’s sleeve to get his attention. “No, no it’s ok.” Langdon emphasized as much as he could with the crawling liquid up his throat.
Because it was ok,
It was alright.
Robby’s head snapped to him, Langdon tried to make out the look on his former mentors face, but everything was getting blurry again.
“Do you have anyone we can call?” Robby's voice was clearer than his face, even if both were fading in and out right now.
“Nuh uuuh.” Langdon couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of his throat.
Life was funny.
“Frank, what the fuck do you mean nuh-uh. Abby-”
“Noooo, no do not call'r” He was delirious. Conscious enough to realize the fact he was delerious- but not conscious enough to shut his goddamn mouth. “She dsn’t wnna... hear from me.”
“Why?” Robby sounded angry.
He always sounded angry when he spoke to Langdon.
Langdon rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore how it made the room spin even worse. “Divorced... duh.” He waved his hand in front of Robby’s face, his wedding ring noticeably absent.
“Div- what?” Robby grabbed his arm, likely to stop him from jostling his neck. The glimpses he got of his mentor's eyes were wide and confused.
Confused was not a feeling Robby had often. Langdon would have found it funny, if the world wasn’t going black and Robby didn’t currently hate his guts.
“Noth’n I’m leavin’ behin... behi...” Langdon tried to swallow. But it felt closed to choking.
He was so tired.
“Langdon-” Robby sounded.... scared. "Doctor Langdon-!"
“t’s... ok.” He got out.
There was more he wanted to say, but fuck- The black tide was strong, and it was all too easy to let it sweep him into a painless sleep.