Five Times-Dr. King and Dr. Langdon successfully hide their relationship five times. Then, there's the time they don't. 18+
Your Face. My Face.-Mel doesn't like that other women notice how good looking Dr. Langdon's face is. In fact, it bothers her so much, she decides to tell him just what she thinks of him. And what exactly she'd like to do to his face. 18+
A Year-A year ago, Frank’s life had been crashing in around him. He’d been suffocating in a blanket of self-hatred and fear and had no reason to believe he’d ever break the surface. Now, he has the three most important things in his life holding on tight to him and he realizes how much can change.
Fili/Sigrid (The Hobbit)
From the Ashes- She is the Lady of Dale. He is the heir to the throne of Erebor. Two separate kingdoms. Two different races. A political friendship between them is expected. Anything more would be against the rules. Fili has always been quite good at breaking rules. Fili and Sigrid after BotFA. 18+
One shots/drabbles
Bold
Adrian Chase/oc (Peacemaker)
In The Silence With You- A rewrite of season 1 and 2, with a new member of the team. Cass was assigned to Project Butterfly because she had a problem with following orders. With her personal life crumbling around her, she finds comfort in an unlikely team member. Vigilante. 18+
Sathia/Tharion (Crescent City)
Flowers and Fins- Sathia and Tharion are strangers figuring out how to make their marriage work, while the world around them is struggling to begin anew. Sathia and Tharion after the events of CC3. 18+
Do you ever do requests? I love the way you write Langdon and Mel together and just hoping for something short and sweet. Literally anything! No pressure if thats not your thing!!
No better time to start than the present :)
Pairing: Melissa *Mel* King/Frank Langdon
Summary: A year ago, Frank’s life had been crashing in around him. He’d been suffocating in a blanket of self-hatred and fear and had no reason to believe he’d ever break the surface.
Now, he has the three most important things in his life holding on tight to him and he realizes how much can change.
Post season 2 cavity-inducing sweet fluff
Frank had lost feeling in his left leg a while ago. His right arm had been next. His other one, which was stretched uncomfortably behind his head, was starting to prickle, but he didn’t dare move. His and Mel’s work backpacks were mashed into a pile behind his head, propping himself up enough that he could see the colored glow from the fireworks in the distance.
Several other hospital personnel had the same idea to gather on the roof. There were many people he didn’t recognize, but far off by the railing Javadi, Santos, and Whitaker stood in a huddled group, beers clutched in their hands. It’d taken several months, but the sight of Santos no longer gave him an overwhelming rush of self-hatred. They weren’t best buddies by any means, but he was happy to see her smirking at something Whitaker said as their faces flashed with colors. Frank was thankful he hadn’t screwed up her career on the day his life came crashing down. When the smoke cleared, he would have never forgiven himself.
On his other side, McKay and her son were in matching, worn lawn chairs. She looked as exhausted as felt, but her son was watching the fireworks with such a bright look in his eye, that he knew she didn’t care.
Frank hadn’t seen the kid arrive, but he assumed her parents must have dropped him off at the end of her shift, much like Abby had done. He wondered vaguely if it was Harrison’s choice to spend the holiday with his mom, or if the holiday arrangements were court ordered. A couple of years ago, the question wouldn’t even have occurred to him. But after months of lawyers, courtrooms, and paperwork, it was hard not to think about. He supposed it wasn’t really any of his business.
McKay must have felt him staring, because she glanced his way and raised a brow when she caught his eye. Shifting the can of diet-coke in her hand, she turned his direction. Half her face illuminated in a flash of purple sparks. “Something on your mind?”
“Nah.” He spoke a little too loud. The hand curled into the front of his scrubs tightened. He lowered his voice slightly and jerked his chin towards her son. “You guys usually spend the fourth together?”
McKay shrugged. “It depends. We let Harrison decide where to go each year. It’s just easier, letting him have control over it.”
Frank nodded in understanding. Towards the end, he and Abby may have been at each other’s throats, but it was never over the kids. He was the asshole, drug-addict husband who lost his wife’s trust and she was the backstabbing, lying wife who climbed into their neighbor’s bed for comfort the first chance she got.
Yeah, the end had been bad. Real bad.
But Abby was a killer mom and she knew Frank loved Penny and Tanner more than anything, so the fighting was never over the kids. It hadn’t stopped him from worrying though. When the divorce became imminent, his biggest fear had been losing them. Frank had never said it to her, but he’d been scared to death she’d use his addiction to take them. He used to lay awake at night wondering if he’d have to go weeks, or even months, without seeing their little grins and hearing their bright laughs. The thought used to kill him inside. It made him think about a bottle of pills.
“By the way, I kept forgetting to tell you,” McKay continued, her mouth quirking into a pleasant smile. “Happy anniversary. One year, right?”
He nodded subtlety, hoping the movement wouldn’t disturb the head tucked into his chest. “Yeah. A year today.”
“Man, time really flew by. I’m really glad you came back to us though.” She settled back into her chair as the sky flashed pink and blue. She raised the diet-coke to her lips, slightly shaking her head. “It’s crazy how much happens in a year.”
Frank wondered if she was speaking about him directly. It had been exactly a year since he had walked through the doors of the emergency department for the first time since attending rehab. A year since he wore his wedding ring just to keep the questions about his failed marriage at bay. A year since he almost killed several patients because of his self-doubt. A year since night-terrors about losing his kids kept him up at night.
A year since Mel turned to see him after a ten-month absence, her face beaming with a wide, toothy smile.
A year since Mel was the only one to believe in him.
A year since he stood with Mel in the ambulance bay, gazing at the fireworks.
It was funny in a way. So much had changed the last year, but the last detail hadn’t. He and Mel were still watching the fireworks together.
Well, sort of.
Mel was fast asleep. She was tucked into his left side, one of her hands twisting into the front of his scrubs while her cheek pressed into his chest. Half of her body was laid on the cement roof of the hospital, while the other had fastened itself around his leg. He felt a little bad that she’d fallen asleep, but despite insisting that she wanted to stay up for the fireworks, she’d work a double and the twenty-four hours of work had caught up to her.
Her glasses were lopsided on her face. He would have plucked them off her, but he was scared to move too much and wake the ticking time bomb with a red, white, and blue dress and ribbons in her hair.
Penny was curled in the gap between his legs. Her outfit was stained with what appeared to be ketchup and mustard and her sticky hands smelled overly sweet, like melted popsicles. When he pulled her from the car seat in the back of Abby’s car just an hour ago, he’d asked why she looked a picnic table threw up on her. Abby glared at him, stating she’d let the kids have enough sugar at the barbeque they’d attended to keep them up all night. That had wiped the smile off his face and she blew him a kiss as she rolled up the window.
Mel had laughed at that.
Abby must have gotten the sugar dosage to turn their kids into feral monsters wrong though, because Penny had been the first to fall asleep. Her auburn hair, which was strikingly similar to her mother’s, was falling out of her pigtails that rose and fell with each deep breath from her chest. Frank wondered if she’d transition into her own bed alright that night or if she’d spend it wedged in between him and Mel, her foot kicking him in the ribs most of the night. Likely the latter.
Tanner had fallen asleep last. He was six now and determined to be a big kid. He’d teased Penny, when she curled into her dad’s lap and yawned and even thought it was funny when Mel’s eyes had fluttered shut. He’d looked at Frank with a wide smile. There was a gap in his front teeth, and his mouth was stained blue from some dye-filled drink he’d spent the day sipping on, but he had the look of a little boy who was having the time of his life.
It didn’t take long though, for his day of running around someone backyard and shooting off fireworks had caught up to him. Opposite Mel, he took a similar position and rested his head against his dad. His dark hair, which was a mirror image of Frank’s, stuck to his scrubs with sweat but he didn’t care as she watched his son’s emerald eyes flutter close.
A year ago, Frank’s life had been crashing in around him. He’d been suffocating in a blanket of self-hatred and fear and had no reason to believe he’d ever break the surface.
Now, he was laying on an old blanket from the back of his car on the roof of the hospital. He had the world’s most beautiful blonde holding onto the front of his scrubs like her life depended on it and later, after a tired drive home, she’d be climbing into his bed. His daughter, who was a spit-fire just like her mother in the absolute best way, was tucked into his lap like it was the safest place in the world and his son, who was so eerily similar to himself that it almost scared him, curled into his side.
Therapy must have made him a simp, because Frank felt an odd lump in his throat as he glanced at the three figures clinging to him.
“Yeah,” he agreed to McKay. His voice cracked. “A lot sure does happen in a year.”
Same anon as the other day. Do you have any langdon/mel fics you recommend? Or any other blogs to follow?
The first fic that comes to mind is a one shot called collide on ao3! It’s so cute and I think I’ve reread it a dozen times. As far as blogs, I don’t really follow any Langdon/Mel specific ones. I really should change that though.
I just have to say the two langdon/mel fics you wrote were amazing!! I honestly loved both of them so much. And they were just so natural and so sweet. I was grinning like an idiot the entire time!! I hope you write more for them. Please, please
Thank you so much! That is so kind of you to say 🥹 I do hope to write some more but we’ll just have to see when inspiration hits!
Mel doesn't like that other women notice how good looking Dr. Langdon's face is. In fact, it bothers her so much, she decides to tell him just what she thinks of him.
And what exactly she'd like to do to his face.
Warnings: 18+, smut, language
Read below or on ao3
Mel stared at the lava lamp clasped in her hands. The day shift had started almost twelve hours ago and it had been a busy one. She’d dealt with everything from an overreactive case of the flu to a severed hand in a construction accident and everything that fell in between. It had been long and grueling, but the worst part was she only halfway through. The night shift had been dealing with staffing issues, so the day shift was taking turns helping out. It was Mel’s turn to spend 24 hours in the Pitt.
So, in a rare moment of relative quietness, Mel had tucked herself away in one of the empty desks and immediately opened her favorite app. If her night was half as chaotic as her day had been, she had a feeling she’d be gazing at her lava lamp a lot.
“Oh. My. God. If I see him run his hand through his hair one more time I swear I’m going to die. Like actually, literally die right here.”
Mel didn’t have to peer around the divider to know who was talking. The girls in central fifteen had been there for a few hours. There were four of them in total; one patient who overdid pregaming for girl’s night and her friends, who had the sense to call 911 when she’d hit her head when falling off a curb. Mel liked them. They might have been a little loud and dressed for a night club, not a hospital, but they were all laughter and kindness and the kind of friends Mel wished she had when she was younger.
Mel never had many friends.
“Forget about his hair! Did you even pay attention to his hands? Ugh! I just want them all over me.”
There were squeals of hushed agreement. Mel swiped her lava lamp away and glanced over her shoulder. Just as she expected, Dr. Langdon was on the other side of the hub. He was talking to Dr. Ellis about something, likely a patient he was handing off as he would be leaving shortly, but Mel felt something odd twist in her chest.
The girls were right. He did have nice hair. Even Becca had said so and Mel’s sister was so unapologetically honest that you knew it had to be true, but Mel had never considered his hands before. She’d seen them almost every day for months. Just that day, she watched them cut through a chest and pick up the fragments of someone’s skull off a gurney. They had held that old woman’s hand when she realized her husband wasn’t going to wake up. They’d shoved a cup of coffee into Mel’s grasp and tied her gown around her neck when she rushed too fast into trauma one. They’d grabbed her elbow and moved her out of the way of a wheelchair and lightly tugged on her braid when she fell into too long of a silence.
Mel saw Langdon’s hands all the time. She never really looked at them though.
She didn’t like that those girls did.
“No no no. You’re both wrong. It’s the jaw that’s really doing it for me. I mean seriously-can you imagine sitting on a face like that-.
“-with his hands just grabbing at your hips-.”
“-and you can run your fingers through that hair-.”
More squeals. More whispers. Mel felt the unfamiliar twist in her chest again. Why did she care that they liked his jaw? They were just stating the obvious. It was nice. She liked the way it looked when he gave her half-a grin from across the room and she could always tell when a patient was annoying him by the way muscles in it would flex.
His jaw, hair, and hands were nice. They were all nice. In fact, now that she was thinking about it, Mel thought every part of him was nice. His face. His eyes. The way the muscles in his arms moved when he crossed them and the way he towered over her when he took his usual spot of standing directly behind her during huddles.
Just at that moment, Dr. Langdon and Dr. Ellis walked out of view. The girls on the other side of the divider whined, before retreating into their friend’s room. Mel flipped her lava lamp back on, but she couldn’t focus on it. Despite liking the girls perfectly fine up until a few minutes ago, Mel was relieved. She didn’t want them thinking about him like that, because if they were thinking it, then maybe someone else out in the world was too, and if they had said something to him, maybe he would like it, and if he liked it then that mean they would be the ones being grabbed by his hands and getting to feel his hair while his jaw moved underneath-.
Mel flushed. She couldn’t have thoughts like that. They were friends. Good friends. They had been ever since his return several months ago. He helped her cope when Becca decided to spend more time at the center with her boyfriend and less time with Mel and she did the same to him when the ring permanently disappeared from his finger. She’d hidden in the staircase a few weeks ago after losing a three-year-old and he’d found her, silently holding her until the tears dried out and when he confessed to her about what had really happened with the drugs-that they were stolen from the hospital-Mel hadn’t condemned him. She intertwined their fingers and held his hand tightly.
A hand she had never thought about looking at until that moment.
“Okay, I left you a diet coke in the fridge. I plastered it in sticky notes with your name on it. If anyone steals it, let me know and I’ll fight them as soon as I’m back in the morning.”
Mel’s heart nearly hammered out of her chest. Langdon slid into the chair beside her, rolling until it rested on her opposite side. He had that half-grin tilted her way and long strands of his black hair were falling onto his forehead.
“I’m sure that won’t necessary.” He splayed his hands on his thighs while she spoke. A quick glance at them-at the veins and the length of his fingers-and an image of them digging into her skin flashed in her mind. Mel’s face warmed. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Is there anything else you need from before I go?”
Mel considered telling him the odd thoughts running through her mind. She wanted to tell him what the girls said and explain how weird it made her feel, but there was small twinge of worry holding her back.
What if he laughed at her? He’d never done such a thing before. Mel had been able to confess anything and everything to him for the last few months and there was no reason to believe he would change, but still…she didn’t think she’d ever survive him teasing her about such a topic.
Her other small worry was slightly more concerning. What if she told him about what the girls said and he liked it? What of he went over to talk to them? He was freshly divorced after all and a man. The girls were incredibly attractive and outgoing-everything Mel was not. If she couldn’t survive him teasing her about this, she definitely wouldn’t survive him sauntering over to that room and indulging those girls in exactly what they wanted.
The idea made that odd twisting feeling appear in Mel’s chest again.
She didn’t want him to want those girls.
Mel didn’t say any of that though. She smiled and told him she would be fine and that she’d see him in the morning. When he rose to leave and passed by the back of her chair, he gently gripped her shoulder by the base of her neck in farewell. His fingers burned on her skin and Mel wished for nothing more than to scream what she thought of those hands. And his hair. And his jaw.
Instead, she sat quietly and didn’t say a word.
***
“It must be nice getting to work without that lost puppy dog on your heels.”
Mel blinked, looking around the room but there was no one else in there beside herself, Dr. Ellis, and an unconscious patient.
“Are you talking to me?”
Dr. Ellis snorted. Not in an unkind way, but in a way that let Mel know she was being oblivious to something.
“Yes, Dr. King. I’m talking to you. Is it nice getting some work done without Dr. Langdon following you around everywhere?”
“Oh.” Mel paused at the computer screen. It was almost three in the morning and the effects of working nearly twenty-four hours straight were starting to take its toll. She had trouble forming exactly what she wanted to convey. “He doesn’t bother me. I like Dr. Langdon.”
Dr. Ellis made another amused noise, shaking her head as she scribbled something onto a clipboard.
“That’s not what I meant,” Mel continued quickly. She could feel the flush creeping up on her neck. “I just-he’s nice and I don’t get annoyed when he’s around-we’re friends-.”
“Calm down. You’re going to give yourself an aneurism.” Dr. Ellis wasn’t looking at her. She just continued scribbling. “When we discharged the group in central fifteen I had to let them down getnly. They were pretty disappointed Dr. Langon wasn’t the one in there. I think they were hoping for a phone number.”
Mel’s chest suddenly hurt. When she started typing again, her fingers were clacking the keys a little too hard. “Well, maybe they’ll get lucky and another one of them will crack their head open on the cement and he’ll be on duty and he can take care of them with his stupid hands-.”
“I told them he was already taken.”
Mel’s fingers froze on the keys. She glanced upwards, finding Dr. Ellis already watching her with an almost superior look on her face. “Why-why uh would you say that? He’s not seeing anybody.”
“No, not currently, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t already taken.” Dr. Ellis went back to scribbling, slowly walking towards the door. “It’s pretty obvious who he belongs to.”
Mel wasn’t really comprehending her words. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, stammering over words. Dr. Ellis propped the door open and fixed her with an expectant look.
“He’s not going to risk fucking things up first. He’s done that enough lately. It’s got to be you.”
Then, Mel was left alone with her mouth hanging open.
***
Mel spent the next four hours obsessing over Dr. Ellis’ words. The conversation had barely lasted a minute and yet it fully consumed her until the end of her shift. It didn’t help that she was sleep deprived and her body was fully functioning on a single diet coke and a twinkie she’d found in the break room a couple hours ago. She couldn’t stop replaying the words in her head.
It’s pretty obvious who he belongs to.
Langdon didn’t belong to her. He’d never expressed any interest in her other than being friendly at work. Right? Sure, he followed her around a bit and usually ducked into the break room the same time she did. He was her only co-worker who didn’t make her skin crawl when they touched-which he seemed to do quite a bit. But surely that just meant they were good friends. Right?
The crazed, sleep-deprived voice in the back of Mel’s head kept asking her though what if it meant something more?
Impossible. Langdon was funny and outgoing and had half of the female patients simpering after him. He had endless options out there and Mel couldn’t possibly see how she could be one of them.
It’s got to be you.
If. If. IF. Langdon was even slightly interested in her, she knew there was absolutely no way he’d act on it. He might be far more outgoing than Mel was, but he’d lost too many people he cared about. He had a genuine friend in Mel and, looking at things from his perspective, Mel could understand why he wouldn’t risk ruining what they had.
But, that was only if he was interested in her.
Mel was too tired to be thinking clearly. She needed to go home and sleep and fully process that many thoughts that were running through her mind, but she had no interest in that. Her muscles felt jumpy and there was a prickly feeling on her skin as she realized she needed to tell him exactly what’s he thought. She needed to tell him about what she thought of his hair, and his hands, and his stupid jaw. Mel had to or she was going to go insane.
Because maybe he would like her too.
***
“Mel, get out of here! You’re no use to anyone half-dead.”
It was Dr. Robby shouting at her. She had her bag slung over her shoulder and her keys clutched tightly in her hand. She left through the ambulance bay, wanting to avoid the madness of chairs, and opted to take the long way to the parking lot. The rest of the day-shifters had arrived and kicked her out as soon as possible. She needed sleep and quiet and a real meal, but…she still hadn’t told Langdon about the insane thoughts running through her mind.
He arrived not too long ago, seeking her out before he’d even stashed his backpack away. He was all smiles when asking her about her night. After quickly reassuring him that no one had stolen her diet coke, he was telling her to get out of there and get some sleep. So, Mel kept quiet. She left, refusing to look at him because she didn’t think she could.
She had to sleep before talking to him. She had to be thinking clearly.
So, there she was. On the outskirts of the ambulance bay watching as a gowned-Dr. Robby and Dr. Santos ran through the glass doors. They must have received a call that something bad was coming in, because it was a few seconds later that Langdon ran outside as well.
He caught her looking and one corner of his mouth raised.
She really loved that smile.
Screw thinking clearly.
“Dr. Langdon!”
His brow furrowed. It wasn’t fair that she was distracting him. He needed to focus on whatever catastrophe was heading their way, but she didn’t stop him as he jogged her direction. Dr. Robby and Dr. Santos turned on the spot, looking at her questioningly but neither said anything.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he was in front of her. He really was quite a bit taller than her and had his eyes always been so blue? Maybe it was a trick of the sun. “Mel? You okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” She stammered. She didn’t have a lot of time. The sirens from the ambulance had appeared in the distance. “I know you’re busy but I just needed to talk to you.”
“Yeah. Of course.” The sirens were growing louder. Dr. Robby called over to them, but Langdon raised a hand before shouting over his shoulder that he would be there in a second. He gripped Mel’s elbow, inching sideways so that he blocked the other two from her sight. “What do you need?”
Mel couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him. This was insane and selfish and everything she wanted to say was getting jumbled inside her head-.
“I really like your face.”
There was a breath of tense, quiet air between them, then-.
“I like your face too.”
She felt her own, too-wide and too-toothy smile growing on her face.
“You do?”
“Yeah. I like your face a lot actually.” The sirens were impossibly loud. They had to be about to turn the corner. The smile on his faltered as he glanced in the direction of the noise and he let out an irritated sigh. “We’re going to have to talk about how much we like each other’s faces later-.”
“Well, I like yours so much I think I would like to sit on it.”
Mel felt the hand on her elbow stiffen as every muscle in Langdon’s face went slack. She frowned, unable to understand the emotions written. She’d never been very good at reading people and for a moment, she was worried she’d said the wrong thing.
“What did you say?”
Sirens blasted into the bay. The ambulance flew by them. Tires squealed. Mel waited for him to turn and run in the direction of the shouting, but he was still staring at her with that peculiar expression on his face. Dr. Robby was shouting again.
“I’m coming!” Langdon bellowed over his shoulder. His grip tightened on her elbow and he pulled her closer, so that their faces were only inches apart. When he spoke, it was in a voice so low she could barely hear him over the overwhelming sound around them. “Did you-did you mean that?”
Mel nodded. She thought he might have cursed as he dropped her elbow and ran a hand over his face. Another ambulance was speeding into the bay. They were out of time. He must have realized it too, because his head snapped in the direction of the other truck and he cursed again.
“Fuck me,” he muttered. His eyes shot back to her, wide and somehow darker than they were just seconds before. “We are talking about this as soon as I’m off. I swear.” Mel nodded. He raised his hands, like he was about to hold either side of her face, then caught himself. They clenched into fists and he started retreating to the ambulance. He dug in his pocket. “Put a pin in that thought, okay? Go to my apartment and wait for me there.”
He tossed her his keys. Mel dropped them. By the time she’d gathered them from the cement and straightened her glasses, he was already running along a blood-stained gurney through the glass doors.
***
Langdon lived in hell.
Fucking. Hell.
He only got to see his kids two nights a week. Every single one of his colleagues knew he was a recovering addict. Half of them still looked at him like they were worried he was going to swallow an entire bottle of pills at any moment.
And he was stuck on a twelve-hour shift with the biggest fucking hard on of his entire life because of Melissa King.
It hadn’t taken him long to fall for her. If he were being honest with himself, she’d sparked something in him her very first day. He and Abby had been treading water since before Penny was born. Back then, he used to wonder which one of them would finally have the courage to call it quits.
The whole drug addiction thing made it easy for them to stop pretending.
With the divorce papers signed and ten months of rehab under his belt, it became easy to get close with Mel. In fact, Mel becoming his closest friend was one of the easiest things in the world. It almost felt like second nature.
It was keeping his grimy hands to himself that was unbelievably difficult.
He didn’t remember when it had started, but somewhere down the line his chest started to get warm whenever she greeted him in the morning. When they worked over a patient together, he could pinpoint the exact spot their gloved hands had brushed an hour later because it would still be tingling. Alone, in his bed at night, he would wonder what her hair would look like spread across the pillow beside his or what she would sound like if he walked right up to her the next day, tangled his hands in that hair he couldn’t stop looking at, and kissed her like he really wanted to. Would she gasp? Whimper? It didn’t really matter. Langdon knew he could never find out.
Mel’s friendship was far too important for him to risk his sick fantasies on, so he kept his thoughts to himself like the creep he was.
But that had been before she proudly told him how much she liked his face.
And that she wanted to sit on it.
So, now it was game on.
The shift was brutal. Not only did he have to deal with the normal ruthlessness that came with working in the emergency room, but he had to do it all with his mind completely swarmed with thoughts of Mel and what he was going to do when he finally got his hands on her. Would she be waiting for him just inside the front door? Would she be in the bed? His bed? God, the idea of her in his bed after using his shower-he had to get home. He had to get home and get his hands on her and finally found what noise she would make-
Jesus fucking Christ he was hard.
And he still had several hours to get through.
Every higher being in the universe knew he had the girl of his fucking dreams waiting for him at home though, because he didn’t get off to anywhere close to on time. Multiple traumas had come in close to seven and he had an ungodly amount of charting to catch up on, so by the time he was racing up the steps of his apartment building, it was almost eleven at night.
Langdon nearly broke down his front door in his rush to get inside. He wanted to see her so badly. He wanted to hear about how much she liked his stupid face, so he could tell her he couldn’t ever stop thinking about hers. He wanted to tell her just how special she was, while he yanked on her thighs and dragged her over his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue as he flung open the door to his dark bedroom, then instantly died.
Mel was asleep.
Curled on the far side of his bed, she didn’t even flinch as his door bounced off the wall. Her hands were balled into tiny fists by her cheek, and her glasses were hanging off her face awkwardly. She wasn’t even under the covers, allowing him a full view of her bare legs and his faded hockey t-shirt that bunched around her thighs. And her hair. God, her fucking hair that he couldn’t ever get out of his head draped across the pillow like he was in some sort of dream.
Mel. His Mel. In his bed. In his shirt. Looking like she had been waiting for him to come home, even though she’d been working twenty-four hours. Langdon couldn’t tell if his dick or his heart was going to burst first.
Sidelining his original plan of jumping her as soon as he walked in the door, he shut the bedroom door as quietly as possible. The room sunk back into darkness as the only light came from streetlights from outside the window. He dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, before grabbing an old pair of sweats and silently moving into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him.
Mel was sleeping in his bed. For how long, Langdon had no idea, so he wasn’t about to be the selfish jerk who woke her up. Cranking on the shower, he stepped underneath the boiling the streams of water, before wrapping his hand around his throbbing cock. It was almost painful, but he had to do something to take the edge off before climbing into bed next to her. The most unsatisfying orgasm of his life came quickly, but he didn’t care because Mel was in his bed.
Mel. His Mel. In his bed. In his shirt.
And that was worth a thousand shitty orgasms.
***
Mel woke slowly.
She had done as Langdon instructed and gone right to his apartment as soon as she left the hospital. She hadn’t even bothered untying her shoes before she fell onto his couch and promptly passed out for several hours. She might have woken in the early evening with drool dripping down her chin and her braid in a tangled, frizzy mess, but she felt better. More grounded. More sure of herself.
Langdon had told her to go there. He didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t shut her down.
He said he liked her face.
Mel showered and tossed her clothes in his washing machine. She used his comb to yank the tangles out of her hair and threw on one of his t-shirts. She debated slipping on a pair of his boxers as well but, after hesitating, decided just on the t-shirt. It seemed like something the main character would do in one of the romcom movies she liked. So, she got onto his bed wearing nothing but his t-shirt, waiting with twisting hands for him to come home.
Then, she fell asleep.
It must have been for a few hours, because the room was far darker than it had been when she laid down on the covers. The main source of light came from underneath the bathroom door, where the sounds of someone moving around whispered through. She had just enough time to sit up and straighten her glasses, before the door opened and yellow light filled the room.
Langdon was in front of her in a pair of gray sweats, steam billowing around him. He had been running a towel through his damp hair, but froze when he saw her. She thought she might have seen something flex in jaw as his eyes drifted to her curled legs underneath her. She shifted slightly, nerves beginning to tremor in her body when his gaze lifted back to her.
His mouth quirked. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Mel twisted her hands in her lap. The towel dropped to the floor and took every ounce of her willpower to not ogle his arms as he crossed them. “I tried to wait up for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I was coming to sleep with you.”
“Oh, okay.” Disappointment flooded her chest, but she smiled slightly to hide it. A line appeared in between Langdon’s brows. “Do you want to just go to bed?”
“Do you?”
He said he liked her face.
“No.”
The quirk in his mouth was back. Mel glowered, annoyed that he oozed confidence and casualness while she felt like she was a twisting mess of anxiety. She wanted so badly to be like those girls at the hospital; pretty, confident, fun. Instead, her body felt like it was about to go into fight or flight mode.
“You want to talk about what you told me right before I was responsible for saving the lives of those shooting victims?”
Mel grimaced. “Sorry about that. My timing could have used a little work. I was just scared if I didn’t say something-.” She swallowed, struggling to come out with the rest.
“What?” he frowned. “You were scared of what?”
He said he liked her face.
It has to be you.
“I was scared if I didn’t say something, I would be too late and one of those stupid, pretty girls would be all over you and you’d have great sex and fall in love and she would be your kids stepmom and bring you lunches at work and I would have to watch you kiss her stupid face-.”
“Mel, what are you talking about?” His frown deepened. Not in anger or frustration, but in genuine confusion. Had she not been so upset, it would almost look comical. “What girls?”
“Those girls that came in yesterday! In those sequin dresses. They couldn’t stop talking about you and it was so frustrating! They kept going on about your hands and your hair, but I like your hands and your hair! I like your face! I don’t want other girls to like it and I don’t want you to like other girls! I want your hands on me and I want to be the one to touch your hair and I want to be the one to sit on-.”
She didn’t even register that he had crossed the space between the bed and the bathroom door until his hands had grabbed either side of her face and pulled her up for a kiss. A noise like a squeak came from somewhere in her throat and she thought she might have felt the hint of a smile on his lips. In her angry tirade, she’d risen on her knees so it was easy to throw her arms around his neck as she caught a taste of his mint on his breath.
“Please tell me you meant what you said.” He said the words like a desperate plea, only a hairline of air between their mouths as his thumbs moved slowly on her cheekbones.
“Which part?”
“All of it. Wanting me. Wanting…us.”
Mel nodded and it seemed to be the only reassurance he needed. His touch vanished from her face, but the kiss deepened and she whimpered as his tongue swept into her mouth. Suddenly, his hands snatched on the back of her thighs, yanking her tightly against him.
“Are you wearing anything underneath this?” The words were spoken in a gravelly whisper against her lips. Mel’s face felt warm, but she shook her head before a strange, deep noise came from his chest and his mouth was back on hers. Needier. Hungrier.
“I-I was trying to be sexy.”
One of his hands had a bruising grip on her thigh; kneading and digging with each movement of their mouths. The other had tangled itself at the base of her scalp, in the roots of her hair. He used it to angle her neck, his mouth moving to her throat.
“Yeah, well you succeeded.”
Mel couldn’t breathe properly. She couldn’t form a coherent thought. She’d never been kissed like that in her entire life. Her mind didn’t know where to focus; his mouth on her neck, the feel of his overheated skin underneath her fingertips, or the incredible feeling of want growing between her legs.
His mouth was back on her hers. Nipping and biting. The hand in her hair seemed to be holding on for dear life, securing her to him like she was in danger of disappearing. Mel broke their mouths apart, taking in a much needed lungful of air as she ran her fingers along the hair at the base of his neck. He shuddered, his own breaths warm and deep on her face.
“Do you actually like my face?” she demanded in a soft voice, because despite everything that was currently happening, there was the sliver of doubt.
Langdon’s forehead pressed to hers and Mel could have cried at the contact. “You have no idea how much I love your face and how much I can’t stop thinking about it. Mel-baby-you’re on my mind all the time. I can’t ever stop thinking about those little jokes you make and your laugh and how fucking nice you are to everyone. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind for a while, so everything that’s happening right now is like my biggest sexual fantasy.”
Mel snorted.
“I’m being serious. I came home from work and there’s a blonde in my bed, wearing my favorite Penguins shirt, and no underwear. That’s like a dream opening to a porno.” He moved without warning, grabbing the back of her thighs as she was mid-laugh to support her weight as he turned them around. Mel opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a quick kiss. “Don’t say a single word about my back.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she lied. Langdon settled on the bed, laying down on the pillows and yanking Mel to sit directly over his waist. The movement sent a spark low in her stomach but she kept quiet. Underneath her, Langdon appeared relaxed. He stretched an arm above his head while his other hand rested on her thigh. His fingers brushed where his shirt was bunched on her skin but made no movement to slip between them. “I think that’s the first time someone has called me baby.”
“Good. We can try out a few different nicknames though.”
Mel grinned. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I want to find one that grosses everyone out at work without being degrading. It’s a fine line.”
She paused, her fingers digging slightly into the muscles on his chest. She felt her smile falter. “You-you want people to know-like this going to be a real relationship?”
His own smile dropped. Mel felt his hand flex on her thigh. “Oh my fucking God, I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. Forget I said that. We don’t have to tell anyone about-there isn’t even anything to tell-.”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” Mel interrupted, her words slightly above a whisper but they shut Langdon up instantly. “It sounds really pathetic when I say it out loud, but it’s the truth. You know, I think you’re my best friend and if you want to do this-.”
He surged upwards, a hand snatching around her neck to drag her down on top of him. His mouth collided with hers, devouring the sound she made as his hips twitched beneath her own. As fast as it started, their mouth broke apart and sounding as if he were drowning, Langdon spoke against her mouth. “We’re doing this.”
Mel laughed, before he pulled her back. He had been laughing too, so the kiss was sloppy and imperfect, but Mel didn’t care because she couldn’t remember a single moment that she’d felt more joy and utter, complete happiness. Warmth flooded her and there was no fighting the smile as their mouths moved together. She felt his hand go back to her hair, tanging itself, while his other hand slipped under her shirt. It didn’t move to her center, only resting on her bare hipbone. Mel had a vague thought about what he was doing, when his grip changed, pining her hip down sharply as he rolled his hips underneath her.
Mel gasped in his mouth. He did the movement again, smirking at the way her mouth went slack at the feeling. The hand in her hair slide to the side of her face, angling her head so his mouth could work along her jaw until he reached her ear.
“If you wanted to climb up here, I can fulfill that wish of yours.”
Mel leaned into his touch. Her eyes fluttered close as his mouth worked on the sensitive skin by her ear. “Maybe.”
“Having second thoughts about my face?”
“I don’t-” The skin on her face warmed. Unease twisted low in her gut. Swallow thickly, she stumbled over the words. “I don’t really know what to do.” His mouth on her skin paused, before he settled back against the pillows to look at her clearly. Mel straightened, trying to hide the nerves from showing on her face. She didn’t usually mind how easily he could read her, but in that moment, she hated it.
When he spoke, it was in a slow, calculated voice. “When you say you don’t know what to do, do you mean-?”
“I don’t know what to do,” she repeated, in a defensive tone. Her face was burning, but Langdon was still staring at her with that odd expression. “At all. I mean, I know how, I’ve just never had any practical experience-.”
“You’ve never had sex before?” The hands that had fallen to either side of her hips had her in a bruising grip. Langdon’s mouth was hanging open slightly and Mel swore she was going to die from embarrassment.
“No. I told you I’ve never had a boyfriend. No one’s ever wanted me before.”
She couldn’t help but feel defensive as the words slipped out. Langdon was still holding her in a bruising grip, but his expression had changed from shocked curiosity to something so gut wrenching painful that Mel could barely look at him.
“I cannot wait,” he started in a low voice, through a stiff jaw, while he fingers began to knead into her skin. “To show you how fucking bad I want you. Please-please for the love of God, let me show you. I promise if there’s something you don’t like, I’ll stop. You just say the word.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” She gave an experimental twist of her hips, enjoying the groan it brought from his throat as her center moved over the bulge in his sweats. “What about you?”
“He got plenty of tough love in the shower.” Langdon was already sliding his arms under her legs, forcing her body upwards. A slight feeling of uncertainty twisted low in her gut, Mel allowed herself to be held over him. “Trust me, he’ll be fine for a little while.”
Mel was about to argue, but a curse came out instead as his tongue ran along her center.
***
The air in the room was heavy. Sweat dotted Frank’s back where her nails had dug into the skin and his breath was warm on her temple. He sloppily placed an open mouth kiss to her forehead.
“Frank?”
He didn’t move his mouth from against her skin, but he shifted his face slightly to show he was listening.
“Is it always like that?”
“No,” he answered quickly, shaking his head. He shifted his weight, rolling until he stretched out beside her. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, but he swung an arm out to snag around her middle. Mel complied, turning until her back rested against his too-warm chest. She was still wearing the Penguins shirt. “No. It was like that because it was you and me.”
Mel didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to. She knew she needed to get out of bed, They both needed to clean themselves up and try to get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning, but she was far too content to do so at that moment. Frank must have decided the same thing, because his rapidly moving chest slowly changed to a slow, peaceful rising and falling.
“Frank?” she asked for a second time, her voice quiet in the dark room.
“Hm?” He sounded like he was half-asleep.
“Why didn’t you tell me you liked my face? Before, I mean?”
He shifted slightly beside her, the arm around her flexing as he tucked his hand under her shirt to splay across her belly.
“I didn’t want to screw anything up. You know, if you weren’t interested.”
Mel pondered that a moment. “I almost didn’t say anything either. I probably wouldn’t have, but then Dr. Ellis convinced me to.”
The arm around her froze. Frank’s head lifted from the pillow behind her, and he gazed down at her. “What did she do?”
“She told me last night things between us were pretty obvious. If it hadn’t been for her pushing me, I probably would have kept quiet too. I’ve always really liked her, but I didn’t realize she looked out for people like. Isn’t that nice?”
Frank snorted, before plopping his head back down. “Sure, baby.”
Mel twisted in his arms, glowering. “What?”
“I’ll bet you ten bucks there’s some hidden betting pool about us getting together and she was getting close to the end of her timeframe.”
Mel’s mouth dropped open. “You really think so?”
“Definitely.” His arm tightened around her again and despite her annoyance at their coworkers, she curled back tightly against him. She felt his lips press into her hair, before he continued speaking in a sleepy voice. “Try to get some sleep. We’ve got some paperwork we’ve got to file with HR before our shift.”
Mel drifted off to sleep. In Franks’s shirt. In his bed. In his arms.
hello, hello!! here is my first kingdon fanfiction recommendation list (get comfy, it's a long one)!
quick note: if you know any of the missing tumblr users, please message me so i can tag them & if there's a fic you think should be on the list, let me know and i'll add it to the next one!
happy reading 🩷
legend: ongoing | completed | multiple works
breaking the surface by lonelychicago (@ferrarisma)
there's a car accident on mel's day off. she ends up at the pitt anyways
rating: mature
from the sidelines by griffenly (@cvldbones)
she gets this tingling in the back of her head, sometimes, when she can’t quite be sure what she knows, just that she knows something. she feels it as she watches mel show langdon the tablet; her hands are gesticulating wildly as she explains, pointing to the screen occasionally, but langdon’s eyes never leave her face. It is a wonder, dana thinks, the poor girl doesn’t just combust on the spot from the force of his gaze
rating: teen+
mel king and the art of touch by ironcharlie (@ironcharliee)
frank thinks mel doesn't do physical touch. or, mel doesn't realize they've been dating for nine months
rating: explicit
this is not the frank show by papermarrow
frank wakes up with no memory. but that's not the strange part. the strange part is the beautiful doctor at his bedside. and the way his chest aches when he sees the ring on her finger
rating: teen+
the whole world is sleeping (but my world is you) by fromiftowhen (@fromiftowhen)
over a series of late night talks, texts, facetimes, and maybe dates, langdon and mel fall in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once
rating: mature
228 oak hill drive by solitude_of_stars
the many encounters of frank langdon and melissa king as observed by esther cornell, who would like to make it abundantly clear that she isn't as nosy as this will make her seem
rating: teen+
what to do, now that i've found you? by prncesselene (@prncesselene)
mel can't stop stealing frank's clothes. it's becoming quite the problem
rating: teen+
saw the writing on the wall by soul_meets_body (@slightly-obssesed)
mel’s third-favorite scene in dirty dancing is only a second long. it’s when johnny jumps off the stage during the final dance and flips his head up right on cue with the singer crooning “hey, baby!” so it was very distracting that, for the rest of the day after her karaoke session with myrna, frank had been quietly singing those two words to her every time they ran into each other. a “hey baby!” when he slid into the chair next to her in the breakroom. another when they met in the middle both jogging to an ambulance. she couldn’t help but laugh every time he did it which, knowing frank, meant he’d probably do it tomorrow, and the next day, and the next
rating: teen+
not in the swing of things (yet) by melikaelena
frank finds out that mel doesn't have any birthday plans. he sets out to change that
rating: teen+
ruin the friendship by izzyitcool
all the times mel king and frank langdon healed each other
you're a good man, frank langdon by avocadomoon
dr. frank langdon: steals drugs, gets divorced, cheats on his wife, goes to rehab, falls in love. not necessarily in that order, though if you ask him it's not really any of your fuckin' business
rating: explicit
where she belongs by flow
mel receives a letter and spends an entire shift discovering that the life she's been carefully navigating has already made room for her
rating: general
the parent trap by anonymous
mel wants to be a mom. frank offers to be her baby daddy. but when mel gets a taste of hooking up with frank, she starts taking birth control to prolong their intimate time together. it's a reverse baby-trapping
rating: explicit
all she has given, all i have taken by fathomless
"oh my god," mel breathes, turning to look at frank. "that's a baby." a weird, blob-like shape resembling a baby that will be a baby, at least. their baby. "wow," he says from where he stands at her shoulder, but his voice is thick, and she looks up to find his eyes wet, glistening against the light from the screen. "holy shit, mel, that's our baby." mel grapples with her impending motherhood amidst caring for her sister, a fellowship program, and missing her own mom. frank is the support she needs
rating: mature
evie by debutante_gurl (@tvgremlin)
mel and langdon's one month old daughter spikes a fever and they head to the pitt for help
i'd get away with your heart (and make it look easy) by takemehome21 (@thelightreflects)
it takes three weeks for him to cross the line he set for himself when he drove her home after that fourth of july shift and ask her if he can stay the night at her place. he knows they can be friendly at work, though he can’t actually be friends with her, not when he’s dealing with recovery and a trial separation and the desire to make everything better for her. but he forgets all of that after just one night. and then it becomes a habit
rating: explicit
emergency contact by 1carusfalling (@1-carusfalling)
mel doesn't have an emergency contact. frank changes that
rating: mature
together in a real way by maplemaplemaple (@miracle-and-wonder)
five times when no one had any idea frank and mel were together, and one time when it was plainly obvious
rating: teen+
it's dr. mel king, mrs. langdon if you're nasty by shedelulululu (@shedelulululu)
it's season 1 of the pitt bu i asked the brave question of what if mel was abby the whole time
rating: teen+
in this autumn town by coffeealwayshelps (@coffeealwayshelps)
frank and mel fall in love the autumn after frank returs to ptmc
rating: explicit
work/life partners by smokingthemoutbasements (@smokingthemoutbasement)
langdon and mel have gotten close since her first day. carpooling, watching movies with becca, and then kissing. they don't talk about their relationship until after a shift goes very bad
rating: mix of general, teen+ and explicit
guess who? by billspaid
when santos ends up at mel's place, she finds a few things out of the ordinary, including a crate of redbull, a pack of cigarettes, and a guy sleeping in mel's bed
rating: general
about you (do you think i've forgotten?) by poppykatherine
frank keeps an ongoing list of all of mel's quirks, needs, and likes on his notes app. except mel doesn't know and she will never know... right?
rating: mature
from your point of view by talktothesky (@thatkingdon)
five times someone sees a picture of mel on frank's phone + one time someone sees a picture of frank on mel's phone
rating: teen+
hiya, barbie! hi, ken! by bloodofangrymen
frank picks up an injured mel from the hospital and takes her home, because they're friends, best friends... really close best friends, emergency contact best friends, sleeping in the same bed best friends, call each other baby best friends, you know, regular best friends
rating: mix of general and explicit
love you like i mean it by instrumentals
frank and mel pretend to date. somewhere along the way, the lines get a little blurred.
rating: explicit
countdown by lirazel
langdon's emotional support human is on leave and he's going to make that everyone else's problem
rating: teen+
laidover by avocadomoon
"you want me to be the bad guy, fine," he said
rating: explicit
everybody knows it but you by fathomless (@soulmaetes)
frank tries to hint that he's getting divorced. mel doesn't quite get the memo
rating: explicit
in the land of god's cathedrals... by phoenixtalon
lord frank langdon is desperate. after his wife's unexpected passing, he is completely unable to mange his young children, who have successfully chased off eight potential nannies. overwhelmed by grief and recovering from his own demons, he places an advertisement for a governess... which catches the eye of a certain miss mel king...
rating: explicit
fresh out the slammer by jillybean414
frank langdon is falling apart. he's a recovering drug addict, recently divorced, guilt-ridden doctor who misses his partner in crime dr. robby. he's always had a soft spot for dr. mel king. but when she starts to be his grounding when his world feels like its constantly spinning, he starts to wonder if maybe there's more to it. mel king is sunshine personified, but no one else seems to realize. all mel wants is to fit. for someone to have her back as she constantly has others. the only person at the ptmc who feels like they're in her corner is her attending, dr. frank langdon. as their relationship grows, mel realizes she might want langdon as more that a co-worker, more than a friend
rating: not rated
three's a crowd by fathomless (@soulmaetes)
becca likes dr. langdon when she meets him during her emergency room visit. it’s later, when he's introduced to her as mel's friend frank, that she decides she isn't so sure
rating: teen+
confidence game by avocadomoon
"everything's fucking falling apart," abby croaked, her voice thick with snot. "and you're - of course you're like this, you're fucking nice. oh my god." "i'm not that nice!" mel said frantically. i stole your husband, she thought. for example
rating: explicit
watch it go 'round and 'round by nnebulae (@nnebulae)
mel's pregnancy through the eyes of her (sometimes incredibly oblivious) coworkers
rating: general
twenty stitches in a hospital room by rowenamacleod
the paramedic opens the back door, jumping down into the snow with a soft crunch. she looks over at them, brows furrowing. "figured there'd be more of you," she said, and mel frowns. "didn't they tell you over the radio? Pretty sure this guy works here." the world goes quiet in mel's ears as the two paramedics get the stretcher down to the ground, and the patient's face comes into view- as frank's face comes into view, bloodied and bruised where it was secured in a neck brace. she freezes, unable to move; watches in slow motion as mohan leans over frank, assessing his injuries, while dana takes report from the paramedics
rating: teen+
jigsaw falling into place by pansiesandposies
frank has never really bought into the whole soulmate thing
rating: teen+
all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? by nicknamebolters
mel and frank go through moments of connection and separation, guided by invisible strings, until they finally find each other
rating: mature
they'll hang us in the louvre by cealesti
soulmateism made literal
rating: mature
little pieces of light by dmh23
five times other people clocked mel and langdon having feelings for each other, and one time langdon did
rating: mature
on fire for you by griffenly (@cvldbones)
the chest tube was set up, donnie standing by with the balloon. garcia glanced over the head lac and burns. "or 2 is open, send her up. oh, and langdon," she called over her shoulder, hovering in the doorway. "king is next door"
rating: mature
langdon's (not so secret) family by icouldnttellya
there were three things to know about dr. frank langdon. one: he was a great. two: he was an extremely private person. three: and he loved his wife and kids
rating: general
you're my baby (say it to me) by aphrsditea (@aphrsditea)
mel king has never cum from sex with another human human being and frank bets he can change that
rating: mature
the feeling flows both ways by aphrsditea (@aphrsditea)
au in which frank and mel meet in undergrad, fall in love and follow each other to the ends of the earth
rating: mature
melanoma by great_shark_lamia
mel moves to night shift. frank comes back. trinity santos needs to learn that nicknames hurt
rating: mature
heard the risk is drowning, but i'm gonna take it by itshvnnvh (@gansey-jackson)
mel king loves frank langdon. frank langdon loves mel king. neither of them will say it
rating: not rated
is it wrong if i see him this weekend by pansiesandposies
mel meets her roomates older brother
rating: explicit
a good wife, a greater woman by griffenly (@cvldbones)
so, call it narcissism or naïveté or plain old delusion, but abby is certain their marriage is going to survive this, one way or another. that is, of course, until she meets melissa king
rating: teen+
breathing clean air by novared
frank forgot to turn his location off and abby can't remember the last time she thought about frank this much
rating: general
how not to impress an attending by caelavik
"i did meet the new intern, by the way. heard she and frank got a long very well today." princess loved her job: she got to save people and have her daily dose of chismis (gossip)
rating: general
five times by aud_diane (@auddy-95)
dr. king and dr. langdon successfully hide their relationship five times. then, there's the time they don't
rating: explicit
✨yearners✨ by neverlandjisoo
the obligatory group chat fic (multi-ship - mel/langdon, samira/abbot, dennis/robby, santos/garcia)
Summary: Mel and Dr. Langdon successfully hide their relationship five times. Then, there's the time they don't.
Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, smut, language
Read below or on ao3
The morning started in chaos; fiery, chaos.
In the early hours of the morning, a nearby apartment building caught fire. It was only two blocks from Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center, which meant every victim was wheeled through their doors. Mel, as well as the other day shifters, had received urgent calls to come in ahead of schedule.
Mel treated more burns and smoke inhalation than she could count before the sun had even risen and once the building collapsed, she saw more than her fair share of crushed limbs. It was almost noon before the madness slowed. The ICU had taken what they could and the less critical boarders were stable and relatively comfortable in what was an otherwise eerily calm day in the emergency room.
Mel shoved through the door to the break room, greeted with the smell of burnt coffee. It was a stark contrast to the stench of smoke that lingered in the air on other side of the door. Whitaker and Santos were sitting on the floor, their backs slumped against the wall. Mohan was at the small table, looking just as exhausted. Dr. Langdon was facing away from her at the kitchen counter, scooping more grounds into the ancient coffee pot, and McKay was beside his feet. Her legs were crossed and she was slumped forward with her chin resting in her hands. She looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Everyone was clutching Styrofoam cups of caffeine and Mohan even still had a streak of foreign blood on her forehead that she didn’t seem concerned with wiping off. They all looked like they’d just survived some sort of battle.
In a way, Mel supposed they did.
“In quickly and shut the door behind you, Melanoma,” Santos hissed. Her hair was still messily piled on top of her head. “Can’t you tell we’re hiding?”
“Oh, sorry.” Mel clicked the door shut, before awkwardly shuffling in place. There wasn’t much room for her to go anywhere else. “I was just wondering where everyone went. Who are we hiding from?”
“Anyone with the authority to tell us to get off the floor,” Whitaker answered in a defeated tone.
“The med students can handle things for a few minutes.” Santos ripped her hair tie out of the frizzy mess on her head and started tying it back up. “No one is about to die out there.”
Mel nodded, resounding to spend the next few minutes hiding out with her colleagues. She was tired and a cup of coffee sounded like just the thing to power through the rest of her shift.
McKay looked liked she finally drifted off and Mohan must have realized there was still blood on her, because she was scrubbing at her forehead with a discarded napkin. Langdon was still overly focused on the coffee pot, not once looking over his shoulder in her direction. Mel didn’t mind, although she used to. She remembered when she finally bucked up the courage and demanded to know why he stopped looking her in the eye, why he refused to be alone with her in a room, why he avoided brushing against her at all costs-it had been the only time she raised her voice at him.
His answer had made her blush harder than she ever had before, rendering her silent in quiet shock.
That had been a couple weeks ago.
So, Mel ignored him like he ignored her. She re-did her braid, which she imagined looked just as messy as Santos’s, and shrugged out of the sweatshirt she’d arrived to work in. She didn’t even have time to take it off before she was throwing on a gown and gloves and jumping in to save the first patient. She was tempted to just throw it away. It reeked of smoke and she was pretty sure there was some form of bodily fluids on it. She didn’t really want a biohazard for a piece of clothing.
“Jesus, Melanoma who did you steal that from?”
Santos’s demanded question was fired her direction and the eyes in the room snapped her direction. Even McKay blinked sleepily up at her. Mel frowned, holding her crumpled sweatshirt by her side. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Where did you get that? You look ridiculous.”
Langdon finally turned, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. When he looked at Mel, his eyes widened in silent terror over the rim of his cup. Mel looked down, realizing her scrub top was couple sizes too large, hanging off her awkwardly and exposing the tank top she was wearing underneath. Her face warmed.
“Oh, um-I had to get a new one and they were out of my size-.”
“You couldn’t have waited until they had your size? Or asked one of us if we had an extra?” Santos motioned to the other women in the room. “Go exchange that in. It looks like it’s going to fall off of you.”
“Yeah, that’s-that’s a great idea.” Mel walked backwards through the door, back into the emergency room with its overly bright lights and loud noises. Her breathing was coming out a little too quickly as she ducked into central fourteen. It was empty, with fresh sheets and a strong smell of disinfectant that almost covered the smell of smoke. Mel ripped the curtain shut, before scrambling back into her sweatshirt.
Just as it got stuck over her head, there was the rustling of the curtain shifting.
“Breathe, Mel. You’re going to pass out.”
The garment was yanked over her head, knocking her glasses sideways. Langdon had two cups of coffee clutched expertly in a single hand, while the other set her glasses on straight. Mel shook her head, her face hot.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped in a heated whisper. “We were in such a hurry-I didn’t mean to grab yours. I didn’t even realize I had it on-.”
“Mel, honey. Relax.” He forced one of the cups of coffee into her trembling hands. He shifted slightly, lowering his head to force her gaze on him. Mel swallowed at the sight of his blue eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”
“We didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Yeah, and no one does.” He reached hand out, gently fixing a loose strand of her blonde hair. His callused fingers brushed the side of her neck and she sighed, leaning slightly into the touch. “Everyone is too tired to give a shit you’re wearing the wrong size of scrub top.”
“But Santos-.”
“Will probably give you some stupid nickname to commemorate the moment, but it can’t be worse than Melanoma, so who cares.” Mel breathed a grin. “We’ll find yours tonight. No big deal. Now, drink some of crappy coffee I made you or you’re going to hurt my feelings.”
He pulled back the curtain, ushering her back into the madness of the emergency room. Mel took a quick sip of the coffee, thankful that he’d dumped in the obscene amount of sugar she liked in hers. She slipped in front of one of the empty computers, intent on catching up on some charting before they became overwhelmed with patients again, when a thought occurred to her.
“Wait.” Langdon was still close to hear her, his eyes fixed on the brightly colored board above them. He glanced down at her to show he was listening. “Tonight? I didn’t know I was coming over tonight.”
His mouth quirked and Mel felt a familiar flush rush over her body. He leaned on her desk, reaching across her to get a pen. When his face was close to hers, goosebumps appeared on the back of her neck. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.
“I am going to have to get through the next seven hours with the image of you in my scrubs seared in my head. You’re coming over tonight.” He straightened, pocketing the pen he’d taken. His hair had flopped onto his forehead and as he raised his cup her direction, Mel silently thought it should be a crime for anyone to look so good. “Drink up, Dr. King. You’re going to need some caffeine.”
Mel finished her coffee and had another.
***
Javadi had insisted she didn’t want a birthday party.
It was apparent no one at work really cared though, because Perlah and Princess planned one away. It wasn’t anything extravagant. They planned it right after the day shift at the bar across the street. They claimed a corner of high-top tables by twisting pink streamers around the chair and there was even a small cake, decorated with pink and purple icing. Scrawled on the top in messy writing were the words ‘Happy 21st Birthday!’
Langdon thought it was cute, in a girly sort of way. Navigating the busy Friday night crowd, he recognized several familiar faces. Robby saw him, before ignoring him with calculated indifference, but he hadn’t expected much more. On his first day, Robby made it clear he didn’t want him as one of residents and they hadn’t spoken since. McKay waved at him happily and Whitaker gave him an awkward nod in greeting. Despite her requests being ignored, Javadi was smiling brightly; her eyes wide and warm as she laughed and chatted with the doctors and nurses that had stopped by. He passed her, clapping a hand on her shoulder and wishing her a happy birthday as he went, but he wasn’t really there to celebrate Javadi. He was looking for Mel.
He’d been behind on some charting, so when their shift came to a close and the mass of day shifters had wandered to the bar, he had remained behind to catch up on some work. That had been over an hour ago and now, he wanted nothing more than to find Mel and get back to one of their apartments.
“You okay?” It was Whitaker, appearing beside him and holding a diet coke. Like most of those in attendance, he was still wearing his black scrubs.
“Uh, yeah.” Langdon still couldn’t find his favorite blonde braid in the crowd. He nodded towards the can of pop in Whitaker’s hand. “Not a drinker?”
“I work tomorrow, so I’m Trinity’s dd. She’s got the day off. What about you? You’re not drinking anything?”
“No, alcohol is kind of frowned upon when you’re a recovering drug addict.”
Whitaker flushed. “Oh, shit. Sorry-.”
“It’s okay. I’m just messing with you.” Langdon glanced around again. No sign of his braid. He was starting to wonder if the pressing crowd and loud music had been too much for her. “I’m actually needing to talk to Mel about something-it’s work stuff-so if you’ll excuse me-.”
“I don’t think she’s going to want to talk about work,” Whitaker grimaced, gesturing towards the bar. “Trinity found out she had the morning off tomorrow too. I don’t know really know who suggested the first shot-.”
Langdon didn’t let him finish. Shoving through Perlah and Princess, who scowled and cursed him in a language he didn’t understand, he finally caught sight of her. Her cheeks were stained pink and a few wisps of her blonde hair had come undone from her braid. God, he fucking loved her hair. He remembered the first time he saw it undone, flowing down her back in gentle waves that he could run his fingers through.
He stood there like that for a minute, like an idiot just ogling her as she laughed a little too loudly at something Mohan had said. Santos had another shot of clear liquid raised, her own eyelids heavy and her face slightly flushed, when she caught his gaze. Her features instantly darkened.
She didn’t like him. He didn’t particularly over enjoy her either, but Mel had ripped into him the week before after he said something not-very-nice about Santos, so he kept his comments to a minimum.
Mel frowned at the look on Santos’s face, before turning on her barstool to follow her gaze. Her eyes locked onto his and her entire face erupted into a wide smile. Something warm rushed through his chest.
“Frank!”
Fuck.
“Hey, Dr. King,” he grinned stiffly, praying to any god that was listening that everyone around them was too drunk to notice she called him by his first name. “You look like you’re having a good time.”
“I’m having the best time!” she beamed. “Did you know I’ve never taken a shot before?”
“Oh, yeah? I’m guessing that’s changed in the last hour.”
“I’ve had four! And they’re really not as bad as thought they would be. Trinity showed me this thing with a lime-.”
“Why are you over here?” Santos demanded over Mel’s shoulder. Her eyes were icy and Langdon matched her glare.
“I was just checking on Mel,” he answered, cooly. “Is that not allowed?”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were her babysitter.”
“Trinity, stop. He isn’t my babysitter. He and I are-.”
“Best friends!” Langdon shouted the words at a deafening volume, causing Mohan to spill her beer down the front of her scrubs. He coughed, trying to cover the panic that had laced his tone. “We have just become very good friends, and I know she doesn’t drink much, so I just wanted to check on her.”
Mel’s brows came together, a sad smile twisting onto her face, but Santos rolled her eyes, before downing another shot.
“I’m okay,” she answered, still smiling at him sweetly. She glanced to the clock hanging above the bar. “I think I’m ready to go home though. I don’t want to make myself sick.”
There were protests from Mohan and Santos, but Mel was only looking at Langdon as she hopped down from her bar stool. She must have been over-confident in her motor skills, because she immediately lost her balance, tipping forward as soon as her feet hit the floor. Langdon reached, snatching her tightly in his grasp and using every ounce of willpower to not tuck her against him as he did so often.
“Easy there, Dr. King.”
She wasn’t looking at him. Her fingers were digging into his arms, holding on to dear life, and that was where her eyes had landed.
“Oh my God, I love these arms. Have I ever told you how much I love these arms?”
Fuck.
“Okay, time to go. Why don’t I give you a ride. Is that okay, Dr. King?”
She swiveled her gaze back up to him, her eyes slightly unfocused as she squinted at him through her glasses. A part of him was tempted to laugh at how damn cute she looked.
“Why are you asking to drive me home? It’s Thursday. We always go to your-.”
“Okay, ride home it is!” Her nearly shouted the words again, but thankfully, the other two women were too caught up in ordering another drink to listen too carefully to Mel’s words. He was more concerned with the crowd of hospital personnel surrounding them. “Do you have anything here you need to grab?”
Faster than he thought possible for someone as drunk as she was, her hands shot to the waistband of his scrubs. Her small, careful fingers barely grazed the skin above his waistband and he bit back an audible groan, before snatching her hands tightly in his grasp. Mel smiled at him. “You asked if I needed to grab something, so I wanted to grab-.”
“Jesus Christ, Mel,” he muttered, dropping her hands and grabbing her shoulders to shove her through the crowd. She didn’t protest. In fact, she seemed pretty happy to be leaving. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”
“To do what with me?”
He cursed again, upping his pace to get her out the door faster. He felt one of her hands drift up his neck, reaching for the strands of hair that she loved to grab and he quickly snatched it back to her side. Close to the entrance, Whitaker saw them and waved him down. Langdon nodded, slowly down and lowering his head to Mel’s ear. “Baby, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut. Okay?”
She nodded, clamping her lips tight as Whitaker elbowed up to them. “Leaving already?”
“I’m gonna give her a ride home,” he said, gesturing down to Mel. She gave him a tight smile, her lips still tightly closed. “She was little worried she’d overdo it. Give me a call if you need help getting the others home later.”
“Yeah. Will do.” Whitaker waved and Mel overenthusiastically waved back. Before anyone else could stop them, Langdon forced her though the door.
He didn’t drop his hands from her shoulders, although he craved to grab one of her hands instead. He couldn’t risk someone else seeing them though. Lowering his head again so that he was close to her ear, he spoke in a low voice.
“I didn’t take you for a handsy drunk.”
“Neither did I,” she admitted. “Is having drunk sex fun?”
He grinned, glancing around to make sure no one was near them. “We can have all the sober sex you want in the morning. You’re going to bed when we get home.”
Mel frowned so dramatically, it was almost comical. “Why?”
“Because you’re not going to throw up on me, honey.”
Langdon continued to carefully guide her towards his parked car, softly pressing lips to the top of her braid as he did so.
***
Mel whimpered.
“Quiet, baby.”
The words were nothing more than a breath against her temple. She nodded feverishly, pressing her face into Langdon’s neck. His skin was warm and familiar and Mel took in a steadying breath. Every nerve in her body was on fire. Whether it was from the fear of being caught or adrenaline because she was actually doing that at work, she wasn’t sure. A better assumption was that it was because of the hand shoved down the front of her pants, but Mel wasn’t an expert on such things.
Langdon’s hand twisted and Mel bit into her lip so painfully she thought she could taste blood. She felt the mouth on her temple turn into a smirk.
“We’re-we’re going to get caught,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. His response was to add a second finger without warning. Mel bit down again, the arm she had tight around his back squeezing him dangerously as the nails on her other hand scratched into the carboard box that she was half-sitting on. “Frank-.”
“No one is going to catch us.” She hated how calm he was. She hated that he was smooth, low voices and gentle strokes of his fingers while she was a whimpering, flustered mess. Mel would have said as much, but he crooked those fingers she hated so much and an embarrassing noise escaped from the back of her throat. “Well, they might if you keep doing that.”
Mel ripped her face from his neck, glowering up at him. The only source of light in the cramped supplies closet came from a single lightbulb in the center of the ceiling and even that was dimmed slightly. It prevented her from seeing the startling blue of his eyes, but it couldn’t mask the way his mouth was quirked in prideful triumph. She opened her mouth to retort it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t keep quiet, when he twisted his hand again.
Mel’s legs trembled and she hid her face again, pretending she couldn’t hear the throaty chuckle coming from Langdon.
“Just hurry,” she pleaded, in a pathetic whine. She tightened her hold on him, anchoring herself to the front of his scrubs. “Please, Frank.”
Mel was worried he might only continue to tease her, but her desperate words must have been too much for him. He shifted them slightly, forcing her to sit more securely on the box and his free hand moving to tangle itself in the root of her braid. There was no warning before his fingers picked up on her favorite rhythm; a rhythm that he’d discovered quickly into their first night together that made Mel nothing more than putty in his arms.
There were no more teasing grins. No more light touches. Langdon forced her mouth upwards, devouring her in a heated kiss that swallowed any and all noises that she couldn’t prevent. Her own fingers moved to the base of his neck, grabbing the loose strands of black hair that laid there and he groaned into her mouth.
The air around them was growing too hot. Mel could feels beads of sweat dotting her forehead and her glasses were sliding on her face. She couldn’t bring herself to care about any of it though; not with Langdon’s tongue in her mouth, swallowing her cries, and his fingers deep inside her. Nothing else mattered.
It wasn’t long before the coil low in her stomach was tightening. Her arms trembled. Warmth was flooding the lower half of her body. Langdon deepened their kiss, encouraging her on-
The doorknob rattled. Mel’s eyes flew open and Langdon ripped their mouths apart, his hand leaving her hair to snatch around her head and clamp tightly over her mouth. His leg out shot behind them, bracing against the door. To her horror, he kept the other moving between her legs.
“Sorry, hang on! I knocked some shit over.” Mel felt her eyes widen over his hand. His voice was the perfect mask of slight annoyance and whoever it was on the other side grumbled something. His fingers picked up the pace before he unceremoniously added a third. Mel cried out into his warm hand. “I know. It was this stupid shelf. I’ll have it moved in a minute.”
Mel thought she was going to die. The feeling of tightening warmth was spreading again. Her hips rocked, urging his hand deeper. There was nothing else, but them. Their hands, their mouths, the silent heated pleasure and Mel suddenly didn’t care who was on the other side of the door, because Langdon twisted his hand and pressed his thumb exactly where she needed it-.
The coil snapped. Had it not been for the hand clamped tightly around her mouth, Mel would have cried out. Tears sprung in her eyes. Their visitor must have left, because Langdon was whispering soft praises against her temple as she came down from her high. His hand left her mouth and he slowly withdrew his fingers from her center. She whimpered slightly at the loss and when she raised her gaze to his, that stupid smirk was back.
Mel flushed. “You look very proud of yourself.”
“I am.” He helped her down from the box, straightening her jacket and tucking her braid back neatly along her back. He grabbed her stethoscope from where it had fallen on the floor, gently swinging it around her neck. His lips pressed firmly against forehead. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you cry like that before. You okay?”
She nodded, raising up on her toes to press her lips quickly to his. He smiled against her mouth, before she sidestepped him to quietly crack the door open. It didn’t seem like anyone was around them. “They were good tears.”
“Good.” Mel quickly stepped out of the closet, holding tightly onto her stethoscope. The small hallway they were in was an offshoot from the main part of the emergency room. She could hear the frenzied voices and buzzing of machines. Just as she was about to push through into the madness, Langdon’s hand lashed out, slapping her sharply on her backside. Mel jumped, her face reddening as he walked by her. He winked at her, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked backwards into the main part of the emergency department. “Maybe next time I’ll fuck you in there.”
The door shut behind him and Mel stood there, blinking.
***
“Mel-honey-stop.”
She ignored him, yanking his stethoscope and forcing his head down to her level for her to crush her mouth against his. For a moment, he gave in. She felt his mouth go slack and move in tandem with her own. His hands, which had been trying to hold her at bay lost their strength, loosening their hold on her wrists as their breath mixed.
For a moment, Mel thought she had won.
Langdon ripped his mouth from hers, his eyes moving wildly around them but no one else was in sight. Mel protested. She rose on her toes to meet him, but he angled his head away from her and snatched her wrists again. “Stop. You don’t want to do this here.”
Mel didn’t care. She didn’t care if they were in the staircase next to the very busy emergency room. She didn’t care that uncountable hospital personnel used that staircase every day. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. She couldn’t breathe properly and her hands were shaking and there was nothing on her mind but digging her fingers into Langdon and holding him as close as their bodies would allow. Who cared if they were seen? Who cared that they were supposed to be working?
“I do,” she argued, her voice cracking. Her eyes were starting burn. She could see the effect it was having on Langdon; the way his entire face was nothing but hard lines and downcast eyes. Mel took advantage of his pity to rise sharply on her toes again, successfully capturing his mouth once more. Langdon’s grip tightened on her wrists and he pulled away from her. Mel almost sobbed. “You-you were almost gone-please just-.”
“I am right here, baby.” His breath was warm across her face. He still had a death grip on her wrists, but his wide eyes gave a quick look up the staircase. “I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears had started to fall. Mel couldn’t stop them. An ugly sob racked through her chest and Langdon fixated her with a pained expression, before dropping her wrists and yanking her to him. Mel twisted her fingers into the front of his scrubs as if it were the only thing keeping her upright, doing everything she could to swallow the sobs that’s kept trying to break through.
“I heard the gun go off and I saw you and-and I thought-.”
“I know. I know. Everything is okay though. I’m fine.”
Mel knew he was fine. It didn’t matter though, because for a few seconds, those absolute gut-wrenching seconds, Mel thought her world was crashing down.
No one had even noticed the man stumble in from the ambulance bay. They were all too busy. It wasn’t until he started shouting; demanding to know why they hadn’t saved his son a week before that he got their attention. Security had started moving towards him and Langdon, who’d been the closest doctor, had raised his hands to him in what she knew was meant to be a calming motion. She could almost hear the low, calculated voice he would have used.
Mel had been across the room and could only watch in petrified horror as the stranger held a gun, aiming it directly at the man who shared her bed most nights. Mel thought she might have screamed. She wasn’t the only one. Robby yelled out. Dana shouted something. But the man had dropped and they realized the gun that had gone off wasn’t his, but the police officer who’d been chatting with security.
Mel had been on the verge of passing out since.
His hands moved from around her, to gently cupping either side of her face. Mel was forced to look upward, blinking at him with wet eyes. She kept her fingers tight on his front. “Listen, if the roles were reversed here, I know I would be losing my fucking mind, but I want you to breathe so we can get out this staircase. You were the one who wanted to keep this secret, and I don’t want it screwed up because of a single lapse in judgment, okay?”
Mel sniffled and nodded. He was right. He pressed his lips to her temple quickly, keeping his hands secured on her face. “I promise you can have the biggest existential crisis as soon as we get home-.”
The door to the emergency department opened behind them. Mel felt Langdon’s hands flex on either side of her face and his jaw tightened, but that was the only warning she got before his tone changed entirely.
“-I don’t know, Dr. King. I don’t see any bruising. Tilt your head the other way. Is there any tenderness there?”
Mel shook her head, allowing him to angle her face in different directions while he peered at her carefully. A few seconds later, Whitaker appeared beside Langdon, staring at her with open shock. She knew what he was seeing. Swollen eyes. Tear-stained cheeks and a senior resident examining her closely. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I tripped on the stairs,” she admitted, sniffling. “Can you not say anything? It’s already a little embarrassing Dr. Langdon saw.”
“Um, yeah, but are you sure you’re okay? If you got hurt at work, Dr. Robby is going to want you to get checked out.”
“Really, I’m fine.” She took a careful step back from Langdon and his hands dropped back down to his sides. Whitaker was still looking at her carefully, like he couldn’t tell if she were really in pain or not. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah, Dr. Langdon that cop is looking for you.” He jerked his thumb towards the door to the emergency room. “He said something about getting a statement.”
“Great. I’ll be right there.” He motioned for Whitaker to go first and when Mel followed, there was a gentle brush of his knuckles against her hand.
Existential crisis later.
***
Langdon rubbed his eyes, before yanking his ball cap lower on his forehead.
He had a shopping basket hooked one arm, the other was drifting lazily on the skin in between the back of Mel’s joggers and her t-shirt while she examined the contents of the shelf. The first time he’d touched her like, casually and without much thought, she’d nearly jumped out of her skin. In fact, if he were remembering correctly, she broke a lamp. It was amazing how far they’d come in just a few months.
“Latex or latex free?”
“It doesn’t really matter, honey. Neither of us have a latex allergy.”
He rubbed his eyes again. It was late and they were facing a rare occurrence; they both had the next two days off. Becca was insistent on spending more nights at her center and Abby wasn’t bringing the kids over until the morning of the second day, so they were about to get the most uninterrupted alone time they’d ever had.
Langdon had been ready for it. They’d barely gotten through the door of his apartment before his hands were on her. On her everywhere that made her whimper and shake and when he’d finally gotten her into his bed and she was using that pleading whine that could make him do anything she asked and he reached into his nightstand to reveal the empty box of condoms-his night came crashing down.
Mel took a pill every morning, but it didn’t matter. She was scared of that 0.01% chance and Langdon cared too much about her peace of mind to point out the many other things they could do that result in zero accidental babies.
So, after a cold shower and a quick change of clothes, they found themselves at one of the big chain box stores that was way too bright for the time of night. Langdon had been prepared to grab whatever box he saw first and get her home as fast as possible, but Mel was way too intrigued by the amount of choices.
“What about these?” she squatted down, pulling out a purple box on the bottom shelf. “They’re grape flavored. Why would we want flavored ones?”
“We don’t.”
“Ooh and there’s cherry!”
“Mel, baby.” Langdon rubbed his hand over his eyes again. “You know I just want you happy, but we’ve been on this aisle for almost fifteen minutes. They’re just condoms.”
She was still squatting, now examining a box with flames on the side. “I’ve never bought condoms before. You always had them available, so this is all new to me. I’m just looking.”
Guilt twisted in his stomach. Sometimes he forgot how new Mel was to relationships. She’d confessed to him that first night he took her home that some idiot boy in her high school had tried to shove his tongue down her throat in the science club after school. That had been the extent of her physical relationship experience.
He was in his mid-thirties; a divorced dad and she had been a twenty-seven-year-old virgin.
It brought him an unmeasurable amount of pride knowing everything she experienced with him was for the first time. This was just another one of those moments.
“Get whatever weird ones you want to try. We’ll rank them.”
Mel looked up at him, beaming. There was that warmth in his chest again. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He squatted down next to her, ignoring the twinge in his back and looked at the box she was holding. “It’s supposed to leave a flame tattoo on my dick? Throw it in the basket. Grab the cherry ones too.”
Mel laughed, tossing in the red box. Langdon couldn’t squat anymore. The pain in his back was growing sharper, so he left the basket beside her and rose to his full height. They weren’t the only couple on the aisle anymore. On the farthest end, where they’d started over ten minutes, another woman was squatting as she pulled out a box. Langdon thought the knot of black hair on her neck looked familiar, but he couldn’t see her face very well. He looked to the man and for a single second, his heart stopped beating.
Jack Abbot was staring directly at him. He was wearing civilian clothes and recognition was written all over his features. Langdon eyes shot back down to the woman and realized with quiet shock that it was Mohan. She hadn’t noticed him. She was still examining whatever box she pulled from the shelf, but Langdon knew better than to say a word. He looked back at Jack and saw the doctors’ eyes were now on Mel. She’d risen, with her back towards the couple and was happily showing Langdon two more boxes she’d picked out.
Horror filled him.
“Those look really great, honey.” He swallowed, trying to mask anything unusual in his voice. “I think we’ve got enough to last the next year though.”
He ushered her to walk the other way, keeping her line of sight away from the other two. He and Jack locked eyes again. Langdon waited for the call out, for the accusations, prepared to do the same.
Jack nodded once. Langdon did the same.
It was a silent agreement.
Relief washed over him like a thick blanket. Langdon shoved his hand low on Mel’s back, guiding her quickly to the checkout, making a mental note to remind her not to upset Jack Abbot.
***
Mel was the closest one to the ambulance bay when the EMTs started wheeling in the gurneys. Her shift was over in fifteen minutes, but a call had come in about a big fight outside of a bar. No one quite knew yet what was going on; drugs, alcohol, a mental illness episode. It could have been a mix of all three. Two men had head injuries and Whitaker was already rushing to those, so Mel approached the third. Snapping her gloves into the place, she was listening to the EMT list his vitals; unconscious on the scene, good oxygen, a little high blood pressure.
Mel had just put her stethoscope to his chest when it happened.
She didn’t feel the pain. Pressure, sharp and fast, appeared in her chest and the breath was suddenly gone from her chest. The man had half-risen, coming to full consciousness in a distressed fury and one of his hands had lashed at her. Security ran forward and held the man down. There was shouting, but Mel heard none of it. There was a strange drumming in her ears.
She turned, wondering why her colleagues were staring at her in open horror. Was everyone just standing there, frozen for minutes on end or was her mind not processing things correctly? Was it only a second of them staring? Their faces blurry terror that she couldn’t make out? Frank registered in her mind first, looking at her from the opposite end of the emergency room, with unmeasurable fear etched on his features.
She’d never seen his face like that. She didn’t like it.
He shouted something, but she couldn’t hear it. Everyone was rushing to her. Mel felt something warm, like bath water, on her front and looked down to see her black scrubs damp and glistening in the blinding fluorescent lights. She wiped her fingers across it, and they came back to her, bright with blood.
Despite being on the other side of the room, Frank reached her first. He slid on the ground, catching her before her head crashed into the tiled floor.
All at once, everything crashed into her. The sounds. The pain. The panic. She’d never heard her name shouted so many times. Mel wanted to tell everyone that she was okay, she was alive, but her lungs weren’t working. Short, sharp breaths is all that her body would allow.
“Get her in trauma one now!”
“Who the fuck missed the knife in that guys hands?”
She was shifted and felt herself being carried. Blearily opening her eyes felt like too much work, but she did so anyway. Langdon was shouting again. At who, she had no idea. She really couldn’t make out what he was saying. Her head tilted as he carried her into trauma one and she saw the spot he had caught her on the floor. There was smeared, crimson blood. Too much of it.
She wondered vaguely if she were going into shock.
“Breathe, honey. Come on. Breathe.”
Mel was about to reprimand him for using her pet name in front of all their colleagues but thought against it. If she were going die, it didn’t really matter.
Die. She was going to die.
“Frank.” The words bubbled in her throat. A metallic taste filled her mouth. She was on the bed now. When did she get there? Someone had taken her glasses off her face. She felt her scrub top being cut away and the press of the ultrasound into her overheated flesh. Mel coughed, blood pooling out of the side of her mouth. “Frank, take Becca-.”
Black spots appeared in her vision. Opening her eyes was far too much effort now, so she let them fall closed.
“Mel, shut up. No one is taking Becca. You’re going to be fine.”
Liar. He was such a liar, but Mel didn’t have the energy to call him out on it.
“Frank,” she started again. “I’m so sorry.”
More bubbles of blood in her mouth. Gloved hands were on her face. His face loomed over hers, her brow dotted with sweat and his eyes wide. “Baby. Stop. Talking. Theres a hole in your lung.”
His hands left and she thought she heard him shout something again. Breathing was getting worse and her head felt too heavy. She knew exactly what was happening. Her blood wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Her chest cavity was filling up with blood. She may even be swallowing some of it. Too much and she would-.
Mel gagged once, before the wave of blood poured from her mouth.
More shouting.
She was even more tired.
There was far too much blood outside of her body.
“Langdon! Talk to her!”
She thought the voice might have been from Dr. Robby. He was always yelling at loved ones to talk to the family members that were hovering between life and death. It was supposed to give them something to hold on to.
Lips were on her forehead. Her temple. A hand tangled in her hair.
“Hey, Mel. You gotta stay here with me, okay?” The hand in her hair shook. “We were supposed to look at houses this weekend, remember? We gotta find a place with enough bedrooms for the kids and Becca. You can’t leave me with all three of them. We’ll burn the house down.”
The next words were spoken against her temple. “Penny has her dance recital this Friday. Remember when we saw the rehearsal? It wasn’t even dancing. They were just jumping around on the stage and that one kid was screaming in the corner. Abby was laughing so hard she was crying.”
There was crack in his voice and she thought she felt his forehead touching hers. “You’re not doing this Mel. I’m not doing this stuff alone, because you’re going to wake up when this is over. You called me a narcissistic asshole once. It was the first time you ever yelled me, right there in the parking garage. If you die on me baby, I’m going to be the biggest fucking asshole this world has ever seen so I really need you to get through this. You gotta wake up for me.”
Mel’s last thought before darkness swept over her, was how disappointed she was she didn’t look at his face one last time.
***
The sound of her coding was going to seared into his brain.
But that had been over an hour ago. Mel was stable and awaiting surgery. There weren’t any bed upstairs, so she was still in trauma one. Langdon hadn’t left her side. His arms were still covered in her dried blood and his scrubs were ruined, but he didn’t care. He would wait to get cleaned up until after surgery came for her.
He held one of her hands in his own, his forehead pressed against the metal railing of her bed.
The door to trauma one opened, but he didn’t raise his head. There was the scuffle of another stool being dragged over and he felt the shift of another figure beside him, but Langdon kept quiet.
“Surgery just called. They’re coming down for her any minute.” It was Robby. “You know, she’s going to be fine. We got her out of the danger zone and by this time tomorrow, she’ll be sitting up in bed and smiling.”
He knew that, but it still wasn’t going to erase the sight of her vomiting blood. Langdon shifted in his stool, grimacing.
“How’s your back?”
He hated how Robby noticed everything, including how much he fucked up his back carrying Mel earlier.
“Relax,” he groaned, sitting up fully. He couldn’t look at Mel’s face; not with a tube down her throat, so he settled for staring at the hand he was just holding. “I’m not going to swipe any pills. Why are you still here? Your shift was over an hour.”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Langdon swallowed thickly. “You know why I’m not leaving.”
Robby sighed and stretched beside him. There was a heavy silence between them, Robby uttered his next words. “How long?”
He didn’t need to ask him what he meant. “A couple months after I came back and don’t worry, I’ll file the paperwork with HR as soon as she’s awake.”
“That’s good to know, but I wasn’t worried about that.” Robby clapped a hand on his shoulder as he stood, stretching again on his way out the door. “You’re on the betting board. When it started, who started it, what names you use-it’s all a walking lawsuit, but I could use the extra cash.”
Langdon breathed a grin as the door shut behind Robby. He still couldn’t take his eyes off Mel’s hand.
Summary: A rewrite of season 1 and 2, with a new member of the team. Cass was assigned to Project Butterfly because she had a problem with following orders. With her personal life crumbling around her, she finds comfort in an unlikely team member. Vigilante
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5
Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, dv mention (non-descriptive), eventual smut
Summary: A rewrite of season 1 and 2, with a new member of the team.
Cass was assigned to Project Butterfly because she had a problem with following orders. With her personal life crumbling around her, she finds comfort in an unlikely team member. Vigilante. 18+
Words: 5.3k
Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4
Read below or on ao3
Adrian really fucking hated touching people.
It wasn’t so bad when he was in his suit and his gloves kept him from actually feeling much of them, but any other time it was almost gag worthy. He was never really sure when it started. Even as a kid, he hated being touched. The suffocating hugs his mother would trap him in always made him squirm uncomfortably and the feeling of another kid’s sticky fingers on his skin brought on a weird prickling sensation that he didn’t like.
Even as an adult it didn’t get better. He couldn’t understand why everyone around him was always fucking touching; holding hands, slapping each other on the back, arms around the shoulders. It was constant and he couldn’t fathom why they all looked so damn happy while doing it.
Sex wasn’t much better. It was fine. Mainly because everyone else seemed to like it so much, but he’d never been one to go seeking out that kind of physical intimacy for himself. He much preferred making sure the other person was having a good time and the occasional time he gave in and let someone take care of him, it was…fine. He was always much too focused on the uncanny feeling of their skin scarping against his for it to be too enjoyable. In those instances, he usually found himself just waiting for the experience to be over.
So, Adrian really couldn’t stand being touched, but he also couldn’t figure out why Cass was the only exception.
When she moved to lay against his chest, he’d flinched, waiting for the prickly feeling to crawl over his skin but it never came. Instead, a strange feeling of warmth and wanting that he didn’t recognize was twisting in his chest. Without even thinking about it, he moved his arm so she could tuck herself closer and when she did, the twisting feeling morphed into a rush of satisfaction. That satisfaction only grew when she mumbled the words ‘I feel safe with you here’ into his chest. It grew and bubbled into something foreign and warm and oddly intoxicating.
And then she snorted into his shirt, and it was one of the most adorable sounds he ever heard and the feeling in his chest exploded into a thousand shimmering sparks.
Adrian couldn’t figure out why, but he really liked touching Cass.
***
“I don’t think you understood the question.”
“No.”
“But just hypothetically-.”
“No.”
Cass elbowed her way through the dusty glass door, careful not to spill the steaming cup of coffee she was clutching tightly. It appeared everyone but Peacemaker had beaten her in that morning. Harcourt, Adebayo, and John all looked up from their desks as she and Adrian, with his suit in place but maskless, walked in and she could spot Murn behind the glass windows of what he using as his personal office.
“Really?” Adrian groaned dramatically as he tossed her bag onto her desk. Cass settled into her chair, ignoring the open staring from her three companions as she took a sip from her burning cup. “I think with some serious practice-.”
“Adrian,” she interrupted in a soft voice, fighting the smile she could feel tugging on her lips. “No matter how hard you practice, I really don’t think you’ll ever be able to speak whale. I’m sorry.”
He gave an exaggerated roll of his neck and Cass grinned as she started up her computer. She was vaguely aware of Adrian choosing a moldy office chair and dragging it across the room to her desk, but when she glanced upwards the other three were still staring. Cass felt her cheeks flush.
“What?”
“Why is he here so early?” Harcourt demanded through slightly clenched teeth. Her eyes flittered obviously to Adrian, who’d taken a knife from his side and was tossing it in the air. He either didn’t hear Harcourt or didn’t care. “I thought we only had to put up with him when Peacemaker was around?” Cass frowned, but Harcourt kept speaking. “This job is annoying enough without listening to him spew useless shit right after dawn.”
“Relax,” Cass replied cooly. “He’s not doing anything to you. He took a ride with me this morning, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.”
Harcourt wrinkled her nose. “Why did you give him a ride?”
Adrian didn’t miss a beat. “I stayed the night at her place. Can’t you tell? I had to use her coconut body wash this morning in the shower. It smells fucking amazing.” He glanced around the open stares and Cass’s red cheeks, his smile faltering. “Oh my God. You guys think we had sex, don’t you? It wasn’t that kind of sleepover. It was more like ‘hey, you just stabbed my ex two times and I think I might have bad dreams’ sleepover. Not a sexy one.”
“Adrian!”
“What?” he demanded, his voice defensive. He paused with the knife in his hands. “I’m just clearing up any confusion. I had to use the coconut body wash because I reeked like bleach from cleaning up all the blood, not because we fucked.”
“Adrian!”
“Holy shit.” John deadpanned from across the room. “Did you two commit a murder last night?”
“No!” Cass didn’t think her face could get any redder. Running her hand tiredly through her hair, she focused on refraining from yelling. “Listen, I don’t want to get into it-.”
“Her piece of shit ex-fiancé showed up at her apartment last night.” Adrian had started tossing the knife again. “You know what’s crazy? How much the human hand bleeds. It’s like a head wound. It just keeps going and going.”
“I don’t want to get into it,” she repeated in a firm voice, glaring at where Adrian was leaning back in his seat. “But I am fine and thanks to Adrian, I don’t think it’s going to be a repeated issue. Can we please leave it at that?”
John still looked skeptical, like a part of him wasn’t convinced a murder hadn’t been committed in her motel the night before, but he must have decided it wasn’t worth questioning because his gaze went back to his computer.
Ads and Harcourt were still staring at her with open mouths.
“Oh my God, girl,” Ads finally whispered, harshly. “Why didn’t you call any of us last night?”
“I’m fine, really.” Cass took another quick sip of her coffee. “Adrian showed up just in time last night. I didn’t call because-well-I didn’t need anyone else.”
Harcourt was shaking her head, her mouth in a firm line. “Good. I bet the little psychopath taught him a lesson.”
Cass frowned. “Don’t call him that.”
“You know, it’s only cowards who go after people smaller than them,” she continued, ignoring Cass’s statement. “You probably embarrassed him by ending things first. If it’s, you know, too fresh you don’t need to relive anything, but did you do any damage?”
“I think I broke his nose.” Cass wondered how much therapy she would need once Project Butterfly was over, because she was smiling. Smiling, after the events that occurred the night before. Not because she enjoyed them, but because Harcourt was looking at her with an odd sort of pride that made her chest warm. “Then, Adrian showed up and stabbed him.”
“Hm,” Harcourt gave a small noise of approval. “Well, I doubt the creep will ever show up again, but if he does call. I could always use some target practice.”
“No fucking way. I already have dibs.” Adrian jabbed his knife in what Cass thought was a playful motion towards Harcourt, but she quickly yanked his arm and shook her head. “You can’t just jump in and steal my body for target practice.”
Harcourt glowered over her computer screen. “Why are you the only one who gets to shoot him?”
“I’m not going to shoot him. That’s not a very good punishment. I’m going to gut him and time how long it takes him to bleed out.”
“Oh my God.” Cass held her face in her hands. “Can we please stop discussing this? I’m already going to be spending a fortune on therapy. I don’t want to add to it.”
“You can’t gut him if you’re trying to make it last long,” Harcourt argued, her icy glare fixed on Adrian as she completely ignored Cass. “He’ll be gone in three minutes. Five tops. If you want pain without it being life threatening go for the feet, hands-.”
“I already went for the hands! I had him pinned to the fucking wall-.”
“What the hell are you all talking about?”
The five of them swiveled, finding Murn standing with crossed arms and wearing a look of immense disapproval.
“Pretty sure Vigilante killed someone in Wells’ apartment last night,” John spoke in a monotone, his gaze going back to his computer. “If not, he definitely maimed them.”
Murn’s gaze fell on Cass and she swore she heard him sigh. “Is this something I need to be concerned about?”
She quickly shook her head.
“Good. I want you to go get Peacemaker, Wells. I need everyone together to discuss our next step.”
“I just got here.”
“That’s why I’m sending you.” Murn replied with a chip in his voice. “John found video of a repeated truck delivery to the factory. As soon as he tracks its origins, we’ll be on the move. So, go get Peacemaker and bring him in.”
Cass nodded, not wanting to face Murn’s wrath by arguing, and gathered her stuff to leave. Her bag was hallway to her shoulders, when a gloved hand reached out and took it from her. Cass didn’t even have to say anything on her way out. Adrian was already on her heels, following her out the door.
***
Cass hadn’t spent much time dwelling on the night before. She didn’t want to. It might not have been the healthiest option, but she was content to shove the incident into some dark corner of mind and forget its existence entirely. It made it easier to focus solely on the pleasant aspects of the evening like the slow rise and fall of Adrian’s chest beneath her ear, the droning of the tv as his boring documentary played throughout the entire night. She didn’t want the bubble to be popped. She wanted to remember waking on the couch, the smell of fresh coffee mixing with the scent of her body wash from the open bathroom door. She wanted to remember Adrain emerging from the steamy bathroom, shaking a towel through his damp curls as he grinned at her with a toothy smile without Harry tainting the memory.
She knew it was inevitable she would have to discuss it, like when the others had been interrogating her just several minutes prior, but the unhealthy part of her wanted to keep avoiding it.
“Can we please not talk about last night?”
Adrian paused, his fist frozen in the air right before he knocked on the door of Chris’s trailer. He still hadn’t bothered to put his mask on, so she was able to see the flicker of confusion as he glanced down at her. “Why?”
“It’s embarrassing telling people about what Harry did,” she explained quietly. “I know he’ll find out from the others eventually, but it’s not something I want to talk about. So can we please just…not bring up last night?”
“So, I can’t talk about the documentary we watched?”
“I was thinking more about the homicide you almost committed.”
“Okay, cool.” He knocked his knuckles on the door to an odd beat. “Homicide doesn’t seem like the right word, though. Justice has a better ring to it.”
Cass didn’t have a chance to mention his version of justice would land them both in federal prison, because somewhere from behind the closed-door Chris’s voice rang out. “Come in, Adrain!”
She shoved the door open. She hadn’t been inside Chris’s trailer since that first day they met him after his release from the hospital. It no longer smelled like it had been vacant for several years and the inch layer of dust that had covered every surface was gone. Chris was on the other end of the trailer, lounging on an old couch. He was already wearing his uniform.
“How did you know it was Adrian?” Cass asked, as she sidestepped a stack of records on the floor. Eagly, who Cass had also not seen since that first night, was perched on a countertop. He had his head turned sharply so that one of his beady eyes was staring right at her. Cass grimaced and gave him a wide berth as she continued down the small space.
“He knocks in a really annoying way.”
“Oh.” She could almost hear the frown in Adrian’s voice from behind her. “Sorry.”
“That’s not nice, Chris,” she glowered. “Would it kill you to ever say something halfway decent to-oh my god! Why do you have that?”
Cass jumped backwards, colliding sharply into Adrian’s suit. She felt his gloved hands appear on her sides, steadying her before she completely toppled over but her mind wasn’t focused on his grip. She couldn’t focus on anything but the glass jar in front of Chris and what she had just realized was inside.
“Dude. You still have that thing?”
She whirled her gaze to above her shoulder, glaring up Adrian. “You knew he had this?”
“Well, I knew he didn’t kill Goff right away, but I just figured-.”
“That’s Goff!” Her voice reached a new octave. Shoving away from Adrian, she stormed the short distance between herself and the jar, quickly kneeling opposite of Chris. The creature contained in the glass resembled a butterfly, but only from a distance. Up close, the abnormally large limbs and small mouths made the difference obvious. She’d never seen one alive and outside of its human host. As the small alien turned to look at her with its large, coin-sized black eyes, Cass imagined it clawing its way into her head. She shuddered. “Why didn’t you kill it?”
“I don’t know,” Chris muttered, shrugging. He too was eyeing the glass. “I thought I would get some answers. No one else is giving them to me.”
Cass sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. Adrian had crossed the room as well, falling onto the couch next to Chris. He leaned in, peering at the jar. “I know its frustrating. I promise you, there’s stuff they’re keeping from me too. You’re not the only one. It’s part of the job. If we don’t need to know it, they don’t share it.”
“That might be good enough for you, but it isn’t for me.” He looked up from the creature, catching her gaze. “You’re telling me if you had the chance to find out what’s going on, you wouldn’t want to figure it out?”
“Of course I would,” Cass answered calmy. “But this isn’t the way, Chris. The second this thing gets out it’s going to kill you or me-.”
“I don’t think so. He drew this peace sign on the jar. See?” He indicated to a glob of something sticky smeared on the inside of the glass. It was possible it could have resembled a peace sign when it had been fresh, but the substance was slowly falling down the sides of the glass. She raised her eyebrow at Chris and sighed, annoyed. “Okay, I swear it was a peace sign like ten minutes ago. I think he’s trying to talk to me.”
“It doesn’t matter if he really drew it or not,” she argued. “He’s not good, Chris! Those kids in Goff’s-the real Goff’s-house had those things in them. They killed the kids! If you don’t think for one second that things isn’t going to take over someone else, you’re wrong.”
There was a loud ring from Adrian’s pocket. Cass and Chris paused their argument, watching as Adrian answered it. “Hello? Sorry, you’re looking for who? Vigilante? I don’t know that name. This is Adrian Chase’s phone number and I’ve never heard of the name Vigilante in my entire life. You’ve been trying to call Wells? I don’t know any agents named Wells, but there is a girl named Cass who ate at the restaurant I work at awhile back-.”
Cass rose to her feet and ripped the phone from Adrian. “Sorry, I broke my phone last night. What’s up?”
“Where the fuck are you?”
Cass fought the urge to sigh loudly at her boss’s impatience. Across from her, Chris wrinkled his nose Adrian’s direction and sniffed. “Why do you smell like that?”
“Coconuts?”
“Yeah. Why do you smell like fucking coconuts?”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t because Cass and I had sex last night. I swear.”
She rolled her eyes, securing the phone more securely on her shoulder before giving Murn her full attention again.
“Sorry, sir. We’re about to leave his trailer right now-.”
“Get the hell out of there! The police are going to be there any second with an arrest warrant!”
She froze, eyes widening as Chris and Adrian rose to their feet. Murn’s voice must have been loud enough that they heard his shouted warning, because Chris was slowly pealing back the corning of the stained curtain covering his window. Sure enough, there was the quick glance of several police officers moving silently. If there were that many in just the small peak they were able to get, that meant there were dozens more. Chris dropped the curtain, cursing quietly.
“Grab Goff.”
Cass’s suggestion was going to be stomp the damn thing into the carpet, but there wasn’t anytime for arguing. Adrian was already snatching up the glass jar and Cass was quick to shove his phone back into one of the compartments on his suit.
“Tape,” he said in a swift whisper, nodding to where a roll of duct tape was thrown onto a shelf. “I need both my hands.”
Cass didn’t need to ask. She understood immediately. Yanking open the roll of tape, she stood close to Adrian and moved the roll around his middle as he held the jar close to his side. Chris was moving hurriedly around them, rolling his eyes when he caught on to what they were doing. He used a broom to prop open the skylight above his coffee table before, unceremoniously tossing Eagly up towards the opening. From the screech that came from the bird, Cass didn’t think he liked it.
Just as she was ripping the tape and making sure Goff was secured tightly to Adrian’s side, Chris jumped from the coffee table, hauling himself through the opening and onto the roof of the trailer. From somewhere outside, Cass heard the words Evergreen Police Department being spoken from a megaphone. Her hands shook slightly as she tossed the tape aside and Adrian was quick to grab her hands.
“Stay close, okay?”
She nodded, swallowing thickly before raising her head to see where Chris was watching them from the open skylight. Despite their disagreement, he reached a hand down towards her. She was just about to admit there was no way in hell she could make that jump, even with him reaching for her, but Adrian’s hands appeared on her waist before she was flung upwards. Chris’s hands grabbed hers and after a few seconds of silent tugging, she was hoisted onto the roof. Staying as low as possible, she looked over the edge of the opening just as a loud bang emitted from the front door.
Adrian was quicker than she had been. It didn’t take him any time to climb through the skylight, even with the large jar taped to his side. His hand closed around Cass’s wrist, dragging her alongside him as the three of the slunk into the shadows of the large tree overhanging Chris’s trailer. Cass didn’t dare breathe too loudly. Nerves were shaking through her, but she held herself together as the sounds of Chris’s home being ransacked escaped through the roof.
Cass felt a twang of pity for him. Finally home after all these years just to have it torn apart again. There was no time to express it, though. Through the low hanging branches, Cass could see multiple squad cars out front as well as several more officers. Their hiding spot on the roof wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.
Chris tapped her shoulder, motioning to the tree. He climbed onto the nearest branch and Cass nodded in understanding. Adrian shifted, as though he were about to help her up, but Chris stopped him.
“Wait!” His voice was so low, it was almost impossible to hear. “Grab Eagly.”
Cass turned, watching the eagle as it tried to swallow a red piece of plastic, oblivious to the situation around them.
“Absolutely not,” she whispered. “He’s going to bite me.”
“I promise I won’t let him bite you. Grab him!”
“That eagle doesn’t listen to you at all!” she hissed in sharp whisper. “Quit pretending you have any sort of control over him. I’m not going to let him claw my eyes out.”
Chris’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything to her as he whispered Eagly’s name several times. As expected, the bird wasn’t interested in anything but getting the plastic into it’s beak. Letting out a short growl of frustration, Chris’s gave a sharp whistle. Cass didn’t even have to look to know the officers turned their direction. Adrian shoved her flush against the tree, forcing her head low. She doubted they were outright seen. There was no shouting that would indicate otherwise, but Eagly had chosen that moment to actually listen to Chris’s whispered commands and flapped his wings several times on the roof, before choosing a nearby spot in the tree.
They were definitely running out of time.
Chris was already moving silently through the trees. The branches were thick enough they held his weight and, as long as no one stood directly under them, they were hidden from the ground. Cass climbed after him, her knuckles white as she gripped the bark of the tree so tightly she was probably injuring her palms.
“One foot in front of the other,” Adrian whispered in an oddly cheerful voice from directly behind him. “Easy peasy.”
“Not easy.” She moved forward another couple of feet, unable to take her eyes off the forest floor that seemed impossibly far. “I miss my computer.”
“Are you scared of heights?”
“Kind of. It wouldn’t be so bad if I had a railing. I think I’m more scared of getting shot by the police if I fall.”
There was movement from below them. Ahead of her, Chris froze, tucking himself tightly against the trunk of the tree. She and Adrian did the same. Cass had one arm snagged around the large trunk, while the other kept a death grip one of the straps of Adrian’s suit. He didn’t seem to care. His eyes were on the cop that was moving silently beneath them, her gun raised.
It was her hold on his suit that allowed Cass to feel when he unlatched his knife. She whipped her head around, shaking it quickly. His green eyes locked on to her’s and his mouth quirked.
She shook her head sharply again and mouthed, “no killing cops.”
He sighed, dramatically stashing the knife away.
They waited a few seconds more in baited silence, until the cop was several meters away and facing the opposite direction. Chris took a small leap to a nearby tree and after quickly getting his footing, turned to help Cass across.
“We might need a tree climbing training day,” she whispered as Adrian landed quietly next to her a moment later. She didn’t like the branch they were on. It was skinnier than the last one and she felt herself wobbling slightly, even though she was sandwiched between Adrian and Chris. “After knife training.”
“We need to make a list,” he said in a low voice. “Fire escape, knives, and now tree climbing.”
“Would you two shut up?” Chris hissed as Cass let out a quiet giggle. The cop was still moving the opposite direction with careful steps. “Wells, where’s your car?”
“It’s right out front, surrounded by a dozen officers.” She wobbled again, snatching a limb by her head to steady herself. “Trust me, it’s not an option.”
Chris cursed again, already moving along the branch. Cass made to follow, but as she shifted her weight one of her feet slipped. The small branch she was holding snapped at the sharp movement and her body went sideways as she went off balance. An arm snatched around her waist, but it was too late. Together, she and Adrian tumbled off the branch, crashing into the forest floor that came up impossibly fast. Adrian had twisted as they fell, taking the brute of the fall with his back, although Cass’s shoulder screamed with pain at the impact.
“Fuck me,” Adrian coughed, his voice wheezing slightly as he raised his head off the leaf littered ground. His glasses were askew and Cass, who was detangling herself carefully from beside him, was surprised they weren’t broken. “Okay tree climbing just got moved to the top of the list.”
Cass snorted, hissing slightly as the movement made a pounding feeling appear in her head. Successfully rising to her knees with the intent of helping Adrian to his feet, several things occurred to her at once and her body went still.
“Freeze!” The voice of the cop behind them should have had been what frightened her the most for a couple of reasons. One, it meant there was a gun aimed at her back. Two, Adrian was in front of her in his full Vigilante gear, minus the mask. Brining in what was known to the ruthless killer may not have been on the police force to-do list that day, but Cass knew they wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to arrest him. But it wasn’t either of those things that scared her the most at that moment.
Cass slowly raised her palm to examine the prickles of blood appearing. She was covered in small cuts and glancing down, was horrified to see the shards of broken glass on the ground beside Adrian. Her eyes scanned the dirt around them, praying hopelessly that it had been crushed or sliced by the glass-.
The small butterfly-like creature flapped its wings a foot away from them, perfectly intact as it launched into the air.
Adrian saw it the same time she did. Before Cass could even react, Adrian launched himself upwards. One of his hands grabbed around the back of her head, covering her mouth while the other wrapped itself around her middle, tackling her to the ground. They landed sideways, her back flushed to his chest as it soared overhead. Cass struggled to breath properly, as Adrian had a death grip over her mouth, but she was able to watch as the alien zoomed surprisingly quick through the air.
There was a spray of blood as it collided with the cop’s mouth.
She screamed against Adrian hand. Instantly, they were scrambling to their feet. Chris dropped from the nearby tree and together, the three of them raced to the police officer. She’d fallen to the ground, her gun forgotten as her body twitched and convulsed. Blood was pooling in her mouth, leaking from the corners and onto her neck.
“We have to get it out!” Cass shouted, but even as she said the words she made no move to do anything. There was no sign of Goff. It was already too far inside of her. “It’s killing her!”
Adrian and Chris shared a panicked look. Cass knew there wasn’t anything they could do, but it didn’t stop the panic that was exploding from inside her chest. The woman gave a heavy, wet cough. Blood sprayed from her mouth, splattering the front of Cass’s shirt.
“We can’t leave her like this,” she continued in a pathetic voice as the woman continued to shake. It was nauseating to watch. Adrian caught her eye and she could see the truth looking back at her. There really was nothing they could do. She swallowed down a sick feeling in her throat. “What should we-?”
“Hey!”
They spun. Another officer, then two, then three were coming from around the trailer. They all scrambled to their feet and Cass wasn’t even able to give the blood-soaked woman a final look before sprinting into the forest.
They ran. Hard. Cass followed Chris, while Adrian stayed close behind her. She followed Chris’s path, jumping and darting where did. Bark exploded as bullets collided with the trees. There was shouting behind them. More guns were being discharged. Cass ducked as wood splintered directly next to her head. It was followed by the unmistakable sound of Adrain unlatching something from his suit, then a high-pitched whizzing through the air. She didn’t see his knife find its target, but she could hear the sickening crunch.
“Adrian!” she shouted over her shoulder. He was still following close behind her. “No killing cops!”
“He’s not dead!” Adrian ducked as another bullet flew past them. “At worst, he’s paralyzed.”
Cass opened her mouth to argue, but a uniform emerged from a line of bushes in front of her. For half a second she was sure one of them was about to be shot, then a deafening screech came through the air right before Eagly’s claws and talons descended on the man.
“Jesus Christ. Eagly’s hardcore man.” Adrian shouted as they raced past the mass of flailing limbs and feathers.
Eagly was quick to join them again, his shadow flying overhead as they continued to race around trees and boulders. Another officer appeared and Eagly took a detour, descending on him just as he had before while Chris led them away. Cass thought there might be a small chance of them actually managing to get out of there alive when they came to small clearing.
Chris froze as two officers appeared in front of them. A second of Adrian’s knives launched through the air, lodging itself in one of their shoulders and forcing them to drop their gun. The second one raised his, aiming it right for Chris and Cass realized how naïve it was to think they’d make it out unscathed when a gunshot echoed through the trees.
She flinched bakwards, but it wasn’t Chris who fell. Blood erupted from the cop’s skull as he fell sideways. Cass could only stare open-mouthed in horror as another cop, this one considerably older and wearing a sheriff’s badge, came from the trees. He was stowing away his weapon.
“Theres a car for you over the hill,” he said, calmly. He stepped over the man whose skull he shot as he gestured to a break in the tee line. “Take it and get out of here.”
Cass didn’t like it. There was no reason for the sheriff to be helping them and she didn’t feel like trusting someone she’d just watch shoot a man in the head. She glanced sideways at Adrian and he appeared to be thinking the same thing, because there was none of the normal laughter in his features.
“Who are you?” Chris demanded. Cass was thankful that he hadn’t been fooled either.
“Do you want to ask stupid questions or do you want to live?”
Chris decided for them. He grabbed Cass’s shoulder, forcing her to run in the direction the sheriff indicated. Adrian followed without question, but she couldn’t help but turn her head as they departed.
The cop Adrian had hit with his knife was begging. He hadn’t injured her badly, but the sheriff was approaching her, taking his gun back out. Cass’s feet slowed as the woman began scrambling backwards. She could hear her pleas. Her sobs.
Adrian’s gloved hand appeared on her forearm, firmly but gently forcing her to turn away. He pushed her in front of him and Cass obeyed, running to catch up with Chris.
She wondered if Adrian noticed that she jumped when the gun went off.
A little sneak peak of chapter 5 because I'm doubtful that I'll finish it before Christmas. Previous chapters can be found here :)
Adrian really fucking hated touching people.
It wasn’t so bad when he was in his suit and his gloves kept him from actually feeling much of them, but any other time it was almost gag worthy. He was never really sure when it started. Even as a kid, he hated being touched. The suffocating hugs his mother would trap him in always made him squirm uncomfortably and the feeling of other kid’s sticky fingers on his skin brought on a weird prickling sensation that he didn’t like.
Even as an adult it didn’t get better. He couldn’t understand why everyone around him was always fucking touching; holding hands, slapping each other on the back, arms around the shoulders. It was constant and he couldn’t fathom why they all looked so damn happy while doing it.
Sex wasn’t much better. It was fine. Mainly because everyone else seemed to like it so much, but he’d never been one to go seeking out that kind of physical intimacy for himself. He much preferred making sure the other person was having a good time and the occasional time he gave in and let someone take care of him, it was…fine. He was always much too focused on the uncanny feeling of their skin scarping against his for it to be too enjoyable. In those instances, he usually found himself just waiting for the experience to be over.
So, Adrian really couldn’t stand being touched, but he also couldn’t figure out why Cass was the only exception.
When she moved to lay against his chest, he’d flinched, waiting for the prickly feeling to crawl over his skin but it never came. Instead, a strange feeling of warmth and wanting that he didn’t recognize was twisting in his chest. Without even thinking about it, he moved his arm so she could tuck herself closer and when she did, the twisting feeling morphed into a rush of satisfaction. That satisfaction only grew when she mumbled the words ‘I feel safe with you here’ into his chest. It grew and bubbled into something foreign and warm and oddly intoxicating.
And then she snorted into his shirt, and it was one of the most adorable sounds he ever heard and the feeling in his chest exploded into a thousand shimmering sparks.
Adrian couldn’t figure out why, but he really liked touching Cass.
Summary: A rewrite of season 1 and 2, with a new member of the team. Cass was assigned to Project Butterfly because she had a problem with following orders. With her personal life crumbling around her, she finds comfort in an unlikely team member. Vigilante
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5
Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, dv mention (non-descriptive), eventual smut
Summary: Falling in love with Steve Harrington was never the plan, but somewhere between saving the world and babysitting a gaggle of unruly kids, it happened. Now, while being with Steve might just feel like the most natural thing in the world, hiding it might just be more stressful than…well, saving the world.
Or: You wake up beside Steve, and Dustin is late for school.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI: Swearing, Mentions of sex, Chaotic sibling dynamics (Dustin is a nightmare but we love him), Steve being a loverboy, Steve also being a menace, Please let me know if I forgot anything!
Author’s Note: I did it. I got on a Stranger Things kick. Everyone blame @flowersforbucky. Shame (jk jk ily) on thee, Cait. BUT because it’s me, enjoy the fluff (and maybe a little plot twist at the end). What? Who said that? And also because it’s me, please let me know what you think! If you guys love it, this will very likely become a two parter!
-
You’ve been through hell and back.
Over the course of a mere few years, you’ve seen nightmares come to life. Shot monsters right between their grotesque and rotting teeth. Blown up demons that would make grown men tremble - that have made grown men tremble.
Sure, you’re probably traumatized. Probably more than a little fucked up. Probably never going to be the same you that you were a few years ago, when high school was the biggest demon you had to face and the most stress-inducing monster in your life was a little brother who talked back too much and rambled on and on about Dungeons and Dragons.
Usually, you have nightmares. Sometimes you wake up screaming. Sometimes you don’t sleep at all, and the nightmares come to you in the form of memories. Vivid, awful memories of people being ripped apart before your very eyes. Of horrifying mouths full of sharp teeth and slime preparing to clamp down on your neck. Of crying and screaming and little boys you’ve known since they were in diapers possessed by evil beyond human comprehension.
But sometimes, when you wake up, it’s nice.
This particular morning, you’re roused from a blessedly dreamless sleep to the feeling of warm hands skating up over your back, pulling you closer to an equally warm chest.
“G’morning.” Steve murmurs against your ear, voice still raspy with sleep as his fingers slide up beneath your shirt, a loving touch dancing over your bare skin and leaving trails of soft little sparks in its wake.
“Morning.” You mumble back, and slide your own fingers through the silky strands of his hair, still a little stiff in some places from whatever product he always douses it in. You feel him smile, and he rolls atop you in one smooth movement, pressing close enough that you can feel a contented noise rumble from his chest against your own.
Half-awake, you peer towards the window. The sun is up, and the dim light of dawn is telling you that it’s probably about-
“Hey, c’mon. No worrying. S’early.” Steve nudges your cheek with his nose, turning your gaze back to him as he pulls you into a sleepy kiss. Languid, slow, and so wonderfully familiar. You melt against him, body relaxing like it’s second nature, and the warmth of his skin feels so nice against the slight chill in your room that you’re sure you could stay like this forever.
“Have I ever told you,” he hums between kisses, teeth scraping over your lower lip in a way that sends a delicious shiver down your spine, “that you look adorable with bedhead?”
You snort, swatting at his shoulder and breaking your lips from his to reach up and try to fix said beadhead. He just catches your wrists, pinning them gently to the mattress beside your head as he ducks back down to trail his lips over the curve of your jaw.
“You’re insatiable, Harrington.” You accuse, and you feel his smile widen as he releases one of your hands to trace his fingers teasingly down your side, pushing up beneath the fabric of your t-shirt once more.
“Can you blame me?” He hums, moving lower to nip lightly at the hollow of your throat.
He crept in through the window last night like some modern-day Romeo, sliding beneath the blankets of your bed with a smile and a whispered greeting, and he wasted no time at all before he was pulling you into his arms. Your quiet conversation had lasted maybe a minute before he was kissing you, with that deep, intoxicating hunger that seems to take over every time he’s so much as near you. The hunger that leads to his wonderful, near-nightly routine of pulling you apart piece by piece with soft lips and practiced hands.
And maybe, not so long ago, if anyone would have told you that you would be desperately in love with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, and that he would one day soon be making you see stars in the dim light of your room, a gentle but firm hand over your mouth to keep you from waking half the neighborhood as he whispered sweet, filthy praise against the shell of your ear, you would have laughed in their face.
And yet, here you are. And you couldn’t be happier.
You’d fallen asleep in the same way you’ve become blissfully accustomed to over the last few months: legs still trembling as Steve carded his fingers through your hair, breath mingling with yours as he came down from his own high.
And then he’d kissed you again, like he simply couldn’t get enough, and pulled you close, and murmured things to you that distracted you from the demagorgons and the mindflayers and the inter-dimensional nightmares.
Now, he’s once again trailing his lips down the column of your throat, grinning with sleepy triumph as you relax beneath him and sliding your shirt up higher on your body, moving lower to leave searing kisses over your ribs.
“We don’t have time.” You murmur, making a valiant effort to turn your gaze back to the window. To judge just how far the sun is peeking over the treeline.
He steals your attention back to him with a sharp, teasing nip to your stomach.
“We’ve got plenty of time.” And God, do you love that sleep-addled, gravelly tone he gets in the mornings. You still feel the ache in your legs from last night, and he seems to sense it as his hand soothes along your thigh, guiding it to the side so he can nuzzle his nose against the smooth skin. “All the time in the world, if ya ask me. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’ll take no time at all for me to make you-“
“Oh my God, are you even awake yet?”
The petulant voice, paired with the rattling of your (thankfully locked) door has you both freezing in your tracks. Steve’s fingers still on the waistband of your underwear, and he drops his forehead miserably against your stomach.
“Henderson.” He groans, low enough for only you to hear, and you raise your eyebrows down at him, fingers still curled in his hair.
“Yes?”
“You know what I mean.” And now you’re whispering to each other, and your laugh dies in your throat as you turn your face to the alarm clock on your bedside table.
Fuck. Oh fuck.
“Shit.” Panic shoots down your spine as you dislodge yourself from Steve, scrambling out of bed with a thump and a tumble of sheets, and start throwing his clothes at him from where they lay discarded on your floor.
“Hellooo? Earth to sister? Are you alive?”
“Coming! Shut up!” You try, tone too bright and voice still too sleepy to be anywhere near convincing as you wiggle into your jeans. Steve does the same, searching the mess of blankets on your bed for his shirt.
“I’m gonna be late!”
“You’re gonna be late and bruised if you don’t stop jiggling my door handle!”
The handle rattles again. Jesus, the kid has no sense of privacy. “Why is it locked?”
“Because we live in a civilized world where little brothers don’t need to be barging into rooms all the time!” You frantically try to smooth down your ‘adorable’ bedhead, catching the sweater Steve helpfully tosses your way and pulling it over your head.
“Oh yeah, because whatever you’re doing-“ well, it’s who you’re doing that you’re trying to hide from him, but “-is sooo important. If im late for school because you’re still in bed cuddling your stupid stuffed unicorn or something-“
“OhmygodDustinshutup.” The words leave you so quickly that they blend together, but it’s too late.
Steve turns to you, wide eyed and grinning from ear to ear as he mouths the words ‘stuffed unicorn?’
Your eyes dart to the closet, heat flooding your cheeks, and Steve’s gaze follows yours. His smile widens.
“Geez, calm down. I didn’t tell anyone about Mr. Sprinkles, okay? Now can you either hurry up or open the door?”
‘Mr. Sprinkles?’ Steve mouths now, looking like a kid on Christmas. You’re going to kill Dustin. Then Steve. And then you’re going to hide under your bed for the rest of your miserable life.
Steve moves like a bolt of lightning.
You barely manage to jump on his back like some sort of feral spider monkey before he’s made it to your closet, procuring the well-loved toy you had hidden away before his arrival last night. He waves it triumphantly in the air above your heads, and you scramble futilely after it.
Though the sounds of your little battle are muffled, Dustin hears them. Because of course he does.
“What’s going on in there?” He sounds concerned now. The handle jiggles again.
“I’m-“ you grunt in frustration as Steve swats your hand away, shoulders shaking with silent laughter as you try to climb higher on his back to reach the object of your humiliation, “I’m uh… I’m naked! Don’t come in!”
“Okay, gross, so get un-naked and let’s- seriously, what are you doing? You sound like you’re being possessed or something. Wait, are you being possessed?!”
You aren’t being possessed, but you are purposefully mussing up Steve’s hair as he spins and dislodges you so that you drop onto the bed with a thump.
“I’m fine!” You shout at the door, frustrated and still absolutely mortified. As Steve crawls atop you, still laughing, you do your absolute best to glare up at him. He just nuzzles the face of Mr. Sprinkles teasingly against your scrunched nose, and you try to bat him away until he catches your lips with his own, grinning like the cocky bastard he is.
“That’s something someone who’s being possessed would say. I’m breaking down the door!”
You break away from Steve to look at said door with wide eyes. He doesn’t seem to mind, nuzzling his nose into the hollow of your throat and blowing a raspberry into your skin to make your next words come out as a ticklish yelp.
“Do not!”
The wood rattles, like Dustin just threw his body weight against it.
You scramble to your feet, and gesture wildly for Steve to leave out the window he snuck in through last night. He leans down to peck you one more time on the lips, and the door rattles again as he moves up to kiss your forehead. While you want to complain about his lack of urgency, you can’t help but admit that you love how difficult it always seems to be for him to pull away from you.
With a noticeable hesitation that makes your heart melt, he finally does pull away, slipping out the window and disappearing onto the roof.
You sprint towards the door, managing to fling it open just in time to see your pain in the ass brother revving up to throw himself at it again.
“Jesus, what is the matter with you?!”
He stops, looking you up and down, and you watch the panic leave his eyes and replace itself with confusion. Then irritation. Then suspicion.
“Why are you out of breath?”
Ugh.
You lean as casually as you can against the frame, feigning what might just be a little too much nonchalance. “I was…exercising.” It’s not totally off-base.
“You only have one sock on.”
You drop your gaze to your feet, and bite back a groan. “I’m…yeah. I’m trying something different. Let’s go.”
“Why is your window open?”
“I was hot. Let’s go.”
“It’s winter”
“Oh my God, can we just go?” You herd him further away from the door frame, shutting it behind you just as you hear the window slide shut across the room. “You’re gonna be late.”
“Oh, so now you care about my developing mind.” Dustin grumbles, but moves forward. “The woman has gone insane. It’s finally happened.” You roll your eyes, pushing him forward a little harder, and he tries to shrug you off. “I should’ve just asked Steve for a ride.”
“Well, next time ask Steve.” And won’t that be a new fun and stressful way to wake up?
“I will. At least Steve lets me play whatever I want on the radio.”
“There is absolutely no fucking way he does that.”
“Worth a shot.”
-
The good dreams, more often than not, are worse than the nightmares.
At least waking from nightmares is less jarring. There’s no relief, sure, because you’re still waking from one nightmare to find yourself living in another one.
But then nightmares don’t leave this ache behind. This awful twist in your heart as the memory of a life you didn’t appreciate enough while you had it drifts out of your grasp and strands you once again in your new reality.
This time, when you jolt awake, you aren’t in Steve’s arms. There is no impatient pounding on the door. There is no door at all.
This time, you’re on the ground. And you haven’t seen true sunlight in days.
It’s cold. The tattered jacket wrapped around your shoulders isn’t enough to keep out the chill. Nothing is.
Your fingers curl in the dirt, broken leaves crunching beneath your palm. You always seem to be reaching for him when you wake. He’s never there. And you’re glad for it. Even if his absence hurts deeper than any physical wound you’ve sustained, even if the mere sight of his smile might lift pounds upon endless pounds off of the weight in your heart, you’re glad for it. Because he’s safe. Steve is safe. Dustin is safe. They all are.
-
“What are you doing? Hey, stop, what are you doing?!”
You look up at the rope. You look back toward the street. The street where Eddie just died. Just got himself ripped apart to buy time.
Not enough time.
You can buy time.
The demobats are already regrouping, breaking from their swarm and beginning to make their way towards the still-open portal. If they make it through, the whole town is fucked. Your brother. Your boyfriend. They’re…
“Fuck.” You breathe, and you already know what you’re about to do.
Steve’s eyes lock on yours. He sees what you’re about to do, too. The terror in his gaze shatters you.
“Don’t. Wait, baby, don’t. Please, please don’t. Just come here, okay? Don’t!” He’s already on the rope, beginning to climb frantically up towards you. He’s going to jump into this place again. He’ll die protecting you. You’ll die before you let that happen.
“Take care of Dustin.” You choke out, entire body already beginning to numb with fear.
And then you cut the rope.
Steve falls. Dustin screams. And you turn, sneakers almost slipping over the filthy floor, and run.
-
You’re bruised. Covered in old cuts and dried blood. Your weapon, the same machete you used to cut that rope and strand you here, to slice through as many monsters as you could that day, lies beside you in the leaves. In the distance, something screeches.
“Okay.” You murmur to yourself, like you do every time you wake up in this awful place, and drag yourself to your feet on aching legs. “Still alive. Still kicking.”
You shouldn’t have lived. You didn’t plan to live. But you did. Somehow, you did.
You inhale, stale air invading your lungs, and move.
Still alive. Still kicking. And you’re gonna get the fuck out of here if it kills you.
The chill seeps beneath your skin again. You shake it off. You’ve been cold for days. Or weeks. Or months. It’s hard to keep track of time here, but it doesn’t matter.
