do i know you? | frank langdon
pairing: frank langdon x gn!resident!reader
summary: what happens when the fun banter between you and frank crashes against the news of robby sending him home
includes: coworkers to kinda-strangers?, mentions of drug use, hospital canon gore, medical talk (and probably medical inaccuracies), robby mention yey!!, angst, open ending with a possible pt.2 (so sorry)
wc: 1.7k
a/n: its lwk crazy to make a second part to my second fic i'm sorry but i hope you like it enough for a second part!
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“Alright, move out of my way, hotshot,” you mumble as you nudge Langdon out of the way. Your hands brush his as you take the fifteen-blade from him. “We want the patient to live, so let a professional do this."
He looks at you, an amused smile curled around his lips. “Oh, is Garcia coming down?"
You glare at him, but when you see Robby shake his head in your peripheral vision, you focus back down on the patient. “You are hilarious, Langdon. Ever considered being a stand-up comedian?"
Your hands are steady as you make a small incision, narrating your actions for the med students in the room with you - Whitaker and Javadi, you believe their names were. “You start by making a small incision right at the intercostal space."
You can feel Frank's eyes on you, and despite being used to that by now, heat creeps up your neck at the intensity of his gaze.
You try your best to ignore him as you continue. “Now you take the Kelly, and you insert it into your incision, opening up the tract for the chest tube."
You keep explaining to the med students until the procedure is done, looking up at Frank afterwards, your head tilted cockily. "And that's how a chest tube is inserted, Dr. Langdon."
“Minus all the peacocking, of course,” Robby's voice pipes up, grabbing everyone’s attention in the room, the way he always does. “Try not to teach my students any bad habits, alright, you two?"
The med students stare at you, clearly forcing down amused expressions. You and Langdon look at each other for a second before he speaks up, without breaking eye contact with you. “Yes, boss."
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You're standing at the nurse’s workstation, staring up at the board with intense concentration. You know you're not supposed to cherry-pick, and you can already feel Dana staring at you. “I know, I know, I’m getting on the next case."
She looks at you over her clear glasses, raising an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, sure you are. Go help Langdon in South 20."
She looks back down at her iPad, interrupting you right as you're about to complain. “Ah-ah, I don't wanna hear it. Go."
You sigh, knowing this is a fight you'd never win. Not against a charge nurse, and definitely not against Dana. Pushing yourself off the workstation in defeat - not without an annoyed little huff though - you mumble in her general direction, “Yes, ma'am."
You step into the examination room, grabbing a pair of gloves without interrupting Frank, who is currently examining a patient and explaining to him what’s going on. Your eyes scan the patient first - professionalism winning this time around - before your gaze drifts to Langdon.
A strand of his hair is falling over his eyes in that infuriatingly attractive way it always does. His biceps strain against his scrub top as he lifts the patient's leg to check mobility.
You're so busy blatantly checking him out that it takes a couple tries for your ears to pick up on your name being called, and only then do your eyes snap up to his.
“You here in the room with us?" he grins at you, clearly very amused by having caught you readhanded.
You shake your head, willing the heat beneath your skin to calm down. “Yes, of course. It looks like a partial rupture of the quadriceps tendon."
You turn your attention to the patient, trying to ignore Langdon’s intense gaze for the second time today. “We'll have to do a CT to determine if your tendon is fully or only partially ruptured, though with the mobility you still have in your leg, I would bet on partial. That should heal on its own with the help of a knee brace."
Langdon can't help but smile when he sees you do so, nodding along to your words.
God, you're good at what you do.
It’s one of the many things that draws him to you, though he'd never admit that out loud.
“Exactly right,” he looks at the patient and nods, "you are in very good hands, Mr. Hill."
Well. At least he'd never directly admit it.
You send him a small smile before both of you walk out of the room together.
Before either of you can speak, Robby walks past you. “Langdon, you got a second?"
Frank nudges you softly before following after Robby.
"For your boss, I got two."
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You were swept up by cases for the last half an hour, jumping in and helping the others wherever you could. A perfed appy here, some nausea there kept the day going quite fast. So fast, in fact, you barely noticed that you haven’t seen Langdon this whole time.
You look at the board, but don't see his name next to any of the patients. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you look around, hoping to catch the mop of soft brown strands, but you come up empty.
Eventually, though, you spot Robby and make your way towards him to clear up the confusion.
“Robby!”
His eyes turn towards you, tilting his head softly and inviting you to continue. “Do you know where Dr. Langdon is? I haven’t seen him around.”
Robby sighs, his hands coming up to scrub at his face and you immediately know that something is wrong. Even more so when he asks you to step aside with him to talk to you for a second.
“Okay,” he starts and looks around before speaking again. “I had to send Frank home because I found Louie’s lost pills in his locker.”
You blink up at him, your mind racing with all the possibilities. Your confusion seems to show so Robby elaborates, his eyes full of empathy - or pity, maybe.
“He’s been stealing benzos, kid.”
You take a step back from Robby, shaking your head in disbelief. “No, he… Robby, he wouldn’t do something like that.”
Right?
“Kid, I’m sorry I-“
But he doesn’t get to say much more, Dana interrupting him from across the floor.
“Robby!”
She seems to change her mind, though, and walks up to the two of you, her voice low, her words landing to make a bad day even worse.
“They called in an active shooter at Pittfest.”
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It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you. You’ve just spent the last hours in the aftermath of the mass shooting at Pittfest, and your body has yet to catch up to what you all just experienced. It feels impossible. Especially with Frank having come back to help out. You tried your best to avoid him, though that was obviously not your main priority.
Now, crouched in the ambulance bay, leaning against the wall of the hospital as all the adrenaline and energy drains out of you, the fight leaves you as you see him approach. You don’t look at him, nor do you make any move to stand up - not like that would be necessary as he lowers himself next to you, sitting on the cold concrete floor with enough space between you not to crowd you.
“It isn’t true.”
The silence stretches between you as you let his words sink in - willing them to sink in, though they barely get through you.
“Isn’t it?”
You don’t look at him, but you can feel him stiffen up as his defenses build around him.
“I’m not a fucking drug addict. I would never be in this hospital treating patients if I were, you know that.”
“Do I, Frank?” Your soft, broken voice breaks through his desperate words, stopping him as you finally lock eyes with him. “Because I’m not so sure about knowing something like that.”
Your name leaves his lips, a broken plea to be on his side, to see it out for him.
You don’t know that you can.
You stand up, the weight in your chest becoming too unbearable with the way he’s looking at you. He’s right behind you, taking a step closer towards you, keeping his voice low as he tries to bargain for your support. Or maybe it’s your forgiveness he’s preemptively looking for.
“I could lose my medical license over this.”
“Frank! You could go to fucking prison for this. It’s a goddamn felony!” you hiss at him, though you’re not surprised - his medical career has always been above everything for him.
Your eyes begin to sting as you take a step back, needing to distance yourself from this. You feel bad for him, and it’s a foreign, heavy feeling. You feel bad he’s going through this, though you also feel bad for what it means for the two of you.
How fucking ridiculous.
You’re mourning something that was never officially alive. You’re mourning the idea of what could’ve been while he’s at the lowest point in his life. It makes you feel horrible.
“Frank-“ your voice breaks around a shuddered breath, and you see his hands twitch towards you, forcing you to take another step back. You take a deep breath in, trying to keep your emotions at bay as you start again.
“Frank, I really hope you’re right. I hope it’s not true. But I know Robby would never lie about something like that, not with how much he adores you.”
He shakes his head, his face scrunched up in discomfort as he looks away from you to hide the way your words lodge themselves between his ribs. But you continue anyway.
“So, more than anything, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I never noticed. I’m sorry, I didn’t help.” You look at him with glossy eyes and as much composure as you can muster. “And I hope you can get the help that you need.”
His mouth opens, yet nothing comes out. seeing you like this, hearing your words - so full of hurt and sympathy at the same time - is more than he can handle.
But before he can mutter a word, your gaze moves past him and he follows your line of sight, watching as Robby walks out the door.
Frank looks back at you, but you’re already brushing past him. He watches you walk past Robby and disappear into the hospital once again.
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