Solace ✨

The one thing you truly hated about Frank Langdon was the way he was 1.37 inches taller than you - and he never let you forget it.

Even when you were just colleagues when you tried out Med school, he’d have this habit of leaning his forearm on your shoulder just to mess with you. He always chuckled when you’d push him off, and you’d always roll your eyes to cover the blush spreading across your face every time his arm brushed yours.

So, when you arrived at PTMC months ago and occasionally crossed paths with Frank, he’d of course continue his endearing yet annoying habit of invading your space.

“So, what do you think about this case?” He asks, nudging slightly into your side in a subtle and playful manner while going over a patient’s history.

“Langdon I am not against physical violence in the workplace,” you warn before a small smile creeps on your face.

He backs up with a smug grin on his face, puts his arms up in a surrender and says, “Yes ma’am,” before firing finger guns your way. You can’t help but laugh. You’ve been laughing a lot lately.

Frank’s been back from rehab for a month now, and things have been good. Great, actually. You meet up once or twice a week outside of work. He’s starting to seem like himself again - info-dumping historical facts, musician lore, and anything about his kids. His relationship with them had been improving as he stepped back into life with a new vibrancy.

Part of the reason he’s been so successful is because of you - and it wasn’t a secret. He always thanks you for taking the time to hang out with him. And you’ve come accustomed to your little friend dates. The man is in recovery. You knew better than to try and pursue him romantically.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt with each other here and there. Frank Langdon is the guy you’ve wanted to be yours for so long, it’s fine if you have to wait a bit longer.

This time, Frank approaches you in the break room and tosses your favorite candy bar at you.

“Give me a break, am I right?” He jokes, causing you to face palm.

“You’re exhausting,” you say as you bite back a smile.

His eyes meet yours and he can’t help but smile back. Sometimes, the day just feels lighter when you have someone you can joke around with.

“You know, you’re one of the few people I’ve met who actually refuses to share one of these things,” he gestures to the candy bar, “kind of selfish,” he adds, but not before you had already stuffed the entire bar in your mouth.

You look at him, eyes wide as you chew slowly, and he can’t help but laugh out loud. “Jesus Christ, you’re seriously unpredictable sometimes.”

You finish chewing (while trying not to choke as you also laugh), “is that a bad thing?”

He pauses before responding, “No, I think it’s actually a really cool thing.”

“Well, you know what’s not cool?” You stand up, urging him to stand too.

“What?” He looks puzzled.

“This stupid move of yours,” you laugh when you stand on your toes to try and rest your arm on his shoulder. “Like, why, Frank?”

He laughs, gently pulling your arm off his and pushing your shoulders down so you don’t fall while on your toes. “My mom said I always used to lean on her or my dad when I got nervous. Something about being comfortable around them.” He stands in front of you, one of his hands still resting on your shoulder. “I guess you’ve always been… safe.”

You can’t hide the blush, you know that. And you’re finding it really hard not to kiss his stupid lips now that he’s said that. But, you shake it off and just flash a sincere smile, “You’ll always be safe with me, Frank. But if you pull that arm stuff out on me with patients, you’re dead.”

“You’re sure Langdon is good to come back?” Robby questions you, a social work intern, who’s known all about Frank’s recovery journey.

You’ve known Frank since Med school, back when you thought you’d take the psychiatry route, and kept in touch after you left to pursue Social Work.

It wasn’t until after you were placed at PTMC that the two of you became true friends. Unfortunately for both of you, you did ignore his behavioral changes over time, trusting if he needed help, he’d reach out.

When you found out he was in treatment, you visited every now and then, made sure his schedule seemed appropriate, and always treated him the same.

The divorce was impending, you had known for a while that Abby and Frank weren’t happy. It felt like a relief when it finally happened, though seeing Frank deal with that during recovery was especially difficult.

Still, you stuck it out and stayed by his side, even when he was cleared to go back to work. Even when he told you about the lengths he went to get his hands on a supply.

But you didn’t judge, or even react really. You listened to him explain it all - how he knew it was wrong, but he also didn’t know how to stop, how he was in chronic pain but nobody seemed to notice or take it seriously, how he felt he had to bare it somehow, and how it made life livable again.

Being a Social Work intern, you’d heard these struggles multiple times. Hell, you’d seen it in your own family. Addiction isn’t a reflection of who a person is, it’s a reflection of a societal failure to help people who struggle.

So, when Robby asked you this loaded question, all you could muster was a quiet, “Yes, he’s cleared to come back.”

You and Robby both knew what happened the day of the Pittfest shooting, you’d talked about it multiple times outside of work, just trying to help him process it all without it being a real therapy session. But when Robby asked you questions directly about Langdon, it was hard to be subjective.

“Look, I understand he was cleared to be back. But is he ready? I mean, I leave tomorrow for my trip” Robby starts before you cut him off.

“Yeah, we need to talk about this ‘trip’ of yours later too,” you say concerned.

“Hm? Yeah okay whatever, but the point is-“

“Langdon was cleared. You trust that he’s clean, in a better space, and capable of his job, yeah?” You reply shortly.

“Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know.” Robby exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“He’s a big boy Robby, just let him try.” You shrug before turning to head to the break room.

Your heart rate increases slightly at the site of Frank, sitting with his head in his hands. He looks exhausted, but also nervous. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you approach him.

“Hey, fun first day back huh?” You joke, pulling your chair next to him.

He turns to you, a frustrated expression across his face, softening when he meets your eyes. “Fun is one way to put it. Not exactly how I’d describe it.”

Your eyes remain fixed on him, watching his expressions shift. “What’s on your mind?”

He inhales, like he’s debating telling you anything, or just committing to being in his feelings. You’d almost admitted defeat after minutes of silence, when he begins; “Robby doesn’t want me here. Santos hates me. Al- Hashimi has been treating me like I’m an incapable kid for some reason, and the only other people besides you who seem to not be weird with me are Dr. King and Dr. McKay.”

You can see he’s fighting tears, but you know better than to interrupt a Langdon breakdown. He’s a kind guy, one that’s full of compassion, but he tries so hard to prove himself to everyone else, he often loses sight of how incredible he already is. That’s how he became your first crush back in med school, and how you developed immense guilt for harboring feelings for your married coworker.

“I’m just so scared of messing shit up. I already blew up my marriage, my kids barely want to see me most days… Santos is right. I shouldn’t even have a career I should just go out there and tell everyone what I did and take ownership of it.” Frank lets his tears fall slightly, refusing to look your way. And honestly? Probably a good call, considering you’re moments away from crying alongside him.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already on an emotional tangent. “Frank, you have already taken ownership of it. You told Louie what happened. And maybe it’s because I see how jaded of a system we have, but telling everyone about what happened isn’t going to absolve you. You’re in recovery for a reason. You went through a very tough time, and I think you’ve spent enough time punishing yourself for what happened. You’re here because you deserve to be. You’re a good doctor, you just need to believe that too.”

Somewhere during your speech, Langdon stopped crying. Your presence always clarified things for him. It’s like he knew he could trust you because of how logical yet empathetic you are. He was staring at you with the softest smile when you finished rambling.

“So, is this how you’d treat a patient, huh? Just taking all of their insecurities and basically slicing through them with a saber?” He laughs, sitting up a bit more. He looks more alive.

“Basically, yeah. The world has villainized people in recovery and people with addictions, mental health issues, disabilities, all of them. Sometimes, all any of us really need to hear is how it’s okay to struggle, but still do the best we can. Underneath Vader was a tortured Anakin, after all.” Your eyes meet his once more, this time with a more playful gaze.

“Woah woah, after all these years I find out you’ve been holding onto Star Wars references?” He gasps sarcastically, his demeanor visibly relaxing.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Doctor Langdon,” you reply, trying to hide the blush covering your face as you hear his voice grow lower and softer.

When his eyebrows raise, you can’t tell if he’s intrigued or weirded out. I mean, he’s been divorced for barely a month, and now his friend/coworker is flirting with him? Yeah, he’d be right to be weirded out.

Instead, he just laughs and smiles at you, standing up and stretching out his arms. The little tug at his arms shows off the very bottom of his waist, and the way he runs his fingers through his hair leaves you salivating silently. “I have to get back to patients, but thank you for being here. If you’re not doing anything later, wanna grab a bite later?” He pats your shoulder as he walks by, a subtle gesture of thanks from Frank that you’ve always loved.

“Yeah, a bite sounds good. See you later, Doctor.” You smirk as he leaves the room, immediately back to thriving in the chaos.

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