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@kingdoncrumbs
you do not have to be good
kingdon childhood friends to lovers au | 5k | @kingdonweek different first meetings | mature
“Uh, yeah. Well, it’s Frank. Langdon. Langdon’s my last name,” he said.
“Well,” she said, “nice to meet you then, Frankie.”
He shuddered.
“It’s just Frank. Only my dad calls me Frankie so that means I hate it.”
She tilted her head in question, her eyes examining him carefully.
“Let me make it mean something else then,” she said.
read chapter 1 on ao3!
milestone | @kingdonmicrofic july 23 | 457
read on ao3
It crept up faster than he could’ve ever imagined, never fully getting used to the melancholic ache of watching him grow. He was almost fifteen now, bopping his head along to Styx and drumming on the football helmet that rested on his lap. Frank couldn’t believe the pride that swelled in his chest.
He knew he’d have to start the conversation eventually, but he always assumed he’d have a bit more time to prepare. Approaching the milestone of ten years sobriety, he’d both given and received a lot of advice, but all the great things he’d thought to say disappeared when faced with the innocence of Tanner’s matching blue eyes staring back at him.
“So, big party with the team tonight, huh?”
“Yeah. I, uh, kinda can’t believe they’d even invite me,” said Tanner.
He’d grown into somewhat of a giant, already pushing six feet before his freshman year, which was his main draw as a player. On the field he was taken over with the spirit of competition. That’s when Frank saw himself in his son the most. But he’d grown into a sweet kid, much better behaved than Frank ever was. Responsible, diligent, hardworking, and always willing to help with his siblings.
“Just because you’re fresh meat doesn’t mean those guys can’t see how awesome you are. You got skills, boy! Skills!” said Frank, playfully shaking Tanner’s shoulder as they stopped at a red light.
His laugh echoed through the car, a sound Frank would never grow tired of, even as it changed.
“I have to be your Dad for a second, though. Don’t roll your eyes.”
Tanner did just that, but a smile tinged his lips.
“You know I, uh, fell down a bad path with drugs. It’s too easy for us—our family—to get hooked. Not to mention the kids I see at work— Fentanyl is no joke. I know you’ll be careful, buddy. But I need you to promise me that even if you mess up, you’ll ask me, or Mel, or your mom and Brian for help. No matter what.”
Tanner’s eyes flitted back and forth between the intensity of Frank’s gaze and the window to his right, embarrassed. But he nodded his head, and Frank felt himself relax a little into his seat.
“You and your siblings are everything to us. I know Mel and I don’t always agree with your mom on everything, but we all agree that you guys should be able to come to us with anything. I’d rather be mad at you any day of the week, rather pick you up across town at any hour of the night than ever lose you. So you call me, Tanner. Always.”
“Thanks Dad,” he said, “I will. I promise.”
Day 21 Lounge
@kingdonmicrofic | 498 words | Rated G? | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | CW: references to past drug addiction. The OCs were introduced in Day 18: Parade
“Have you seen Dr. Langdon?”
Dana looked at him over her glasses. “He was in the lounge last I checked. Need me to page him for you, hun?”
“No, that’s okay, thanks Dana.”
He found Dr. Langdon in the lounge with Dr. King, looking at something on his phone.
“Sorry to interrupt, Dr. King. Could I borrow Dr. Langdon for a moment?”
She looked up. “Sure! I should check in with Nellie about Ms. Thomas’ CT results.” She turned to Langdon. “We’ll continue this later?”
Langdon smiled softly at her. “Absolutely.”
As the door closed behind her, Langdon gestured for him to sit. “Alright, what can I do for you, Dr. Logan?”
“Well, um, it’s personal.”
Wes admired Dr. Langdon immensely, his sharp skills becoming well-known to him these last three years. Langdon’s his mentor- they’d developed a good rapport but the man still intimidated him.
He held his voice steady as he began. “Remember that patient from the MVC six weeks ago? 6’4, 450lbs?”
Langdon nodded.
“During the transfer, I tweaked my back.”
Langdon doesn’t broadcast his addiction, but Wes had worked with him long enough to learn about it. He chose his next words carefully.
“I got an eval. They prescribed opioids and muscle relaxers, but I’m…struggling.”
“Dr. Logan—"
“I definitely need physical therapy. But I don’t have time for the appointments. I can’t exactly leave shifts in the middle of the day.”
“—Dr. Logan, we can—”
“I’d feel guilty putting extra work on other residents. I’m a senior resident, I should step up—”
Langdon firmly cuts him off. “Okay, lemme stop you right there. There will always be more patients, more work, more bullshit. This is your health. You cannot pour from an empty cup, Wes. Trust me, I would know.
“Look, if you don’t address this before it gets worse, you’ll end up in here. Or somewhere worse. This place will take everything from you if you let it. You can’t let it. Matter of fact, I won’t let it.” Langdon regroups. “Now, are you taking medication only as prescribed?”
“Yes.”
“Is it helping?”
“Not enough.”
“Anything else I should be concerned about?”
“No, Dr. Langdon.”
At that, Langdon visibly relaxed.
“Thank you for coming to me, Wes. I’m glad you felt comfortable asking for help. Helping residents when they’re struggling’s part of the job.”
“What about Robby?”
“As department chief, he’ll help with scheduling. If he gives you any grief, come to me and I’ll talk to him. However, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
They both stood. “Book the appointment and we’ll see what we can do.”
Langdon clapped him firmly on the back.
“Oh, by the way, how are things going with Dr. Crane? You two seem to be hitting it off.”
Wes ducked his head, failing to hide his smile. “Oh yeah, she’s great. She, uh, she really made a great first impression.”
Langdon grinned as they headed back onto the floor. “The best ones usually do.”
excerpts from mel's audio diary
@kingdonmicrofic
day 22 -> connect (460/257) warnings: infidelity, mild sexual content
...
SEPTEMBER 2, 2024
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 15:32
“I don’t know.. he was just.. really attentive, if that makes sense. He seemed to know exactly what I needed even if I didn’t realize it myself. He’s so smart, I’d love to bounce ideas off of him tomorrow if we have time. Oh! And gosh, I felt so relieved when he came back during the.. um.. M..C..E? Yeah, that’s it. My brain is scrambled. It’s late and I should sleep but I can’t stop thinking about how kind Dr. Langdon was to me today. Definitely a good first shift. Minus the.. Yeah.”
DECEMBER 13, 2024
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 25:59
“Robby still won’t tell me anything. I’ve heard whispers and rumors but.. I don’t like to listen. Gossip isn’t for me. We’re professionals, for fucksake. Oh. That sounded kind of unprofessional, didn’t it? Whatever, it’s okay. Nobody’s going to hear this anyway—”
So Noah Wyle saying Langdon needs a friend in S3, and Taylor saying Mel is giving this friendship and independence thing a try . . . albeit unsuccessfully at first.
I would be unsurprised if Mel tries to rope some of her colleagues into going to some sort of museum with her and getting summarily rejected the first few hours of her shift only for Frank Langdon, revealing he's recently separated from his wife and needing a friend making plans with her to go to one in the last few hours of her shift.
I hope Mel's debilitating stress is the six month affair she's been having with a certain fellow resident and I hope that frank is helping her with that debilitating stress by eating her out every night before going home to his wife
guys.
connect | @kingdonmicrofic july 22 | 500
read on ao3
“I’m done talking about the hospital, Frank,” said Abby, carefully applying her lipstick in the car mirror.
He sighed, one hand on the wheel as he connected his bluetooth and began tapping his fingers along to the beat.
He’d made a great save during his shift earlier, maybe the best of his career, but she wouldn’t want to hear about that. Abby tended to prefer conversation topics on which she was the expert; contemporary literary fiction, Michelin star restaurants, designer runway collections.
“I mean it,” she said, “it’s the first date you’ve taken me on in months. No patients, no procedures, no nothing. Please.”
Normally he conceded to his wife, concealing whatever problem she was finding in him at that moment until she moved on to the next one. Today, he was ready to press it, tired of walking on eggshells and feeling like a squatter in their home. It was foolish of him anyway, to think his display of heroism would change her opinion that he was irredeemable.
He was about to fight back when his phone rang, blaring over the car’s bluetooth as her contact photo appeared on the screen. It was from the picnic they went on last week, Mel’s hair in two braids instead of one with a tall glass of lemonade held up next to her beaming smile. In the reflection of her sunglasses you could see Frank, smiling back.
“You’re kidding me,” Abby said, her arms crossing over her chest as he moved to answer it.
“Hey, Mel,” he said, tentatively.
“Hey, Frank. Where are you?” said Mel, sweetly.
Drops of cold sweat congregated on his brow bone as Abby angled her body towards him with accusatory raised brow, silently mouthing at him: “Frank?”
“I’m in the car. On the way-“
“So you told her? How’d it go?” said Mel.
Frank was in a full panic now, white-knuckling the wheel and staring straight ahead, ignoring the red-hot rage steaming off of his wife in the passenger seat.
“Mel. I’m, uh, on the way to dinner. Now. With Abby,” he said, throat tight.
The line went silent, his gaze triangulating between the road, her photo with her name underneath, staring at him from the center console, and Abby; the deliberate tap of her nails, the narrowing of her eyes.
“Oh,” said Mel, “Um, I’m sorry. I’ll call—or you can—ok bye bye.”
Frank let the remainder of their ride be awkward and silent and painful after she hung up on him. He let Abby seethe, let her brain conjure up whatever elaborate revenge plot her and her friends (that he’d never gotten along with) would inflict upon him.
“Abby?” he asked as he pulled the car into the restaurant parking.
She didn’t speak, her red lips sealed shut as she raised her eyebrows, daring him to continue.
“I’m gonna have to break the rules. At least a little. There’s no real way to have the conversation we’re about to have without talking about work.”
need it like water
You believe, I believe too
That you are the river of light who I love
—
The King-Langdons
oh mel has a new stress in s3? oh is it her debilitating crush on her best friend, Frank Langdon? Cause deadass I don’t want any more melmisery unless this is it
my theory for mel’s new stress in s3 (as discussed by tdeardz today)
i think it’s going to be about boundaries in her friendships with both santos and frank. she will be adjusting to santos’ brash nature and forwardness, maybe mirroring some of these traits she’s learned from their friendship (like casual touch, jokes, time together outside work) in her relationship with frank. but instead of it being positive, people are spreading rumors about them and santos is upset that mel trusts and respects frank. there’s more to he said here but this is my immediate thoughts for now
@kingdonmicrofic day 21 -> lounge (462/462) implied sexual content, established relationship
...
Mel is very cognizant of just how much space Frank takes up.
It’s impossible not to notice how his broad frame now shrinks in a trauma room. Before, he’d use his stature to his advantage and shoulder in, to make space when others wouldn’t allow for it, but these days he’s resorted to squeezing in and being less of an inconvenience.
The thing is, Mel’s certain he isn’t aware that she’s aware. That she tracks his body language and memorizes it, stuffing it into a little box in the back of her brain labeled Langdon-isms. It’s relatively full.
Mel has also observed what she deems the switch. As soon as Frank’s free from PTMC’s vice grip, he sheds the diminutive, almost meek facade, transforming into an entirely different person. It’s surely a sight to behold; how his eyes grow a little darker and the furrow between his brows deepens.
someone sedate me
so don’t get me wrong: the fact that the first case mel and frank ever work on together is a marriage collapsing due to drug use is… already just insane work. but i rewatched this episode recently and i can’t get it out of my head that this couple mirrors frank and abby more than we even think.
obviously, franks addiction is heavily foreshadowed through his patients in season one. once it’s revealed that the little boy accidentally got into his father’s marijuana gummies, we see this subtle undertone in pball’s performance as frank where, in my opinion, he’s facing the reality of how his behavior could have (or could in the future if he doesn’t get it together) effected his kids and the foundation of trust in his marriage.
however, even before amanda (the mother) finds out that drew’s (the father) irresponsibility is technically the reason why tyler is ill, she assumes it anyway. she’s very snarky with mel and frank as they ask her about tylers routines, and when they ask about recent injuries she immediately throws drew under the bus and complains about his actions/parenting/responsibility by saying “but he roughhouses with drew all the time” (paraphrased). drew shoots back with something like “but he never gets hurt.” very defensive, an argument that seems like it’s been had many times.
combine this with the fact that she didn’t even know her husband was using weed recreationally (which i assume is because he knew she would take issue with it) makes it clear that there is already tension, mistrust, blame, and resentment between them. the accident with their son only brings to the surface what has been concealed or hidden in passive aggressive quips.
i believe this is a direct insight into frank and abby’s marriage. we are supposed to gather from everything explicitly stated about abby (wanting a birkin?, frank getting her a dog, frank overcompensating all the time) that they fundamentally do not understand each other. but i think amanda and drew tell us that langdon, even before his addiction, felt like he couldn’t do anything right in abby’s eyes.
and NOW couple this WITH the fact that langdon has been in residency working eighty hours a week for not that much money, missing out on his children’s lives while abby is basically solo parenting all day every day, and all of this began during the pandemic… baby that marriage was destined to fail from day one.
