#nerdwiki writing

[nerdwiki]

There is something about Frank recognising Nietzsche in Mel's words and Robby having "Amor Fati" as his tattoo, which is repeatedly mentioned and explored by Nietzsche as a philosophical concept and approach to life in "Ecce Homo: Wie man wird, was man ist" and "Die fröhliche Wissenschaft" and "Also sprach Zarathustra: Ein Buch für Alle und Keinen".

Thinking that maybe Michael got his tattoos done relatively recently (the linework looks crisp in the show, which I will use for the benefit of my headcanon with no shame, sue me), and maybe that's what moved Frank to get into Nietzsche's philosophy out of curiosity.

I keep wondering what their dynamic looked like before S1, and evidence of their early interactions in S1 leads me to believe that there was (and still is, but that's a different conversation) a strong mentorly bond. Maybe Langdon also did his rotations at PTMC, giving more time to acclimatise to each other for a bond to form, whatever. So it's not a completely wild idea that Langdon would have noticed the fresh tats during scrubs change or just plain movement. Maybe it was the first time they both talked about something outside of medicine and work.

Just makes me happy (and also sad) to think that maybe that small part of that still wet-behind-the-ears Langdon is in there somewhere. The one who read up on Nietzsche after seeing his new mentor's tattoos. The one who found the tattoo and the idea behind it cool (he is a history nerd; obviously he would find something like that cool). And maybe it's ironic for him to hear "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger" and then Kelly Clarkson's name. Maybe in that moment he wishes he had never read up on Nietzsche.

[nerdwiki]

Hands, hands, hands. Twenty-seven bones and five metacarpals in each. Incredible, in-built tools that have allowed humanity to create so much beauty throughout the years. The first painting ever was that of a human hand on a cave wall. The first art activity babies do is finger painting. Human hands are capable of so many things: petting a stray, giving a hug, wiping a tear, holding another's hand.

When a meaty fist connects with Dana's face outside the ambulance bay, a human hand turns into a way to hurt, to punish, to abuse. There is an explosion of pain, followed by throbbing in her nose and cheekbones, and blood pouring down the back of her throat and from her nose.

She gets on all fours at first, the world spinning in slow motion, bright lights blinding, and then slowly stands up. She tries to bend her head forward, letting the blood drip out of her nose instead, because the last thing she needs right now is to throw up. A human stomach is a finicky thing, and blood doesn't sit well with it. Dana has told that to her daughters a hundred times already—those two rascals who insisted on getting hit in the face by volleyballs during practice. What a funny thing to think about in this moment. A quick, instinctive shake of the head to clear her thoughts sparks another bout of pain, and Dana gets back to walking through the ambulance bay doors, her stance tilted awkwardly.

She doesn't want the concerned and shocked EMTs to touch her, letting out a weak plea for them not to do so, but she doesn't mind Robby's hands cradling her skull. Those are the hands she can trust, even though she doesn't want any of that incessant concern or orders to get a CT, an exam room, and observation periods. Pain is blooming brightly under her skin, her eyes watering from the bright lights. These gloved hands are the same hands that stitched her up when an intern swiped a scalpel at her by accident a decade or so ago, the same hands that fixed her little Olivia's wrist dislocation, and the same hands that she held when Adamson died and Robby's world ended with him. Perlah's deft fingers wipe the blood off her neck and chin, and Ahmad is talking, demanding answers.

"I want to rule out anything intracranial," Robby says in a tone that offers no opportunity for rebuttal, and Dana relents. She lets their kind hands carry a share of her pain instead. Twenty-seven bones and five metacarpals in each. Sturdy enough to bear this weight with her.