
ALT “Langdon, what did you take?” Robby demands, raking back the resident’s eyelids to check pupil response, brain cycling through a thousand possibilities a second, each worse than the last. “Langdon?” Robby yells, professional practices and standard procedures fleeing him in his desperation for an answer, a clue, anything that will help him save his golden boy. “Langdon answer me!” he half begs, half orders, gripping him by the shoulders, terror making him rougher than he should be as he turns the prone body towards him. “what the fuck did you–” Frank screams. Frank screams and it is one of the worst things Robby has ever heard. In a hell of his own making, he'd be tortured endlessly with echoes of the awful, crackling, rasping final gasps of air forced in and out of his beloved mentor's body. Gunshots he never heard but which he hears night after night after night after night, tearing holes through the hearts of everyone he loves. And this. This raw, broken scream of complete agony















