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He couldn’t really pinpoint when it happened, as much as he tried to. Fuck, he had only known her for fifteen hours- less even, when he considers the hours when he was technically fired. But at some point in those fifteen hours, he had fallen in love with her.
Maybe it was when he saw her handle a mass casualty on her first day in a new job like a boss. Maybe it was when he saw her face light up, a spark of comfort among the chaos, as soon as she caught a glimpse of his face. Maybe it was when he found her in the break room, overstimulated to hell and back. Maybe it was when he saw her singing in the ambulance bay, not even aware that anyone could see.
But, he thinks, it wasn’t even any of those moments. It really began the first time he saw her, having to look away to avoid giving himself up to the entire ER before realizing he really couldn’t keep his eyes off of her for even a second. He knew then as much as he knows now, a year later, that he was in love with her.
Not that it matters at all, she’s in love with someone else now. He left for five months, and everything changed. Abby left him about a month into that horrible, fucked up process of recovery. It hurt, of course it did, but he couldn’t help but feel something else, something clear among the pang of anger and guilt and shame and loss- hope? Relief? Joy, even? But it didn’t matter, not really, he was going through recovery, and he couldn’t start anything. Not that he even knew how. He and Abby got married young, had kids young, and never really went through the whole “relationship” thing. He never agonized over where he stood, what it meant, never really had a doubt that she would reciprocate.
But now, six months back in the pit and ten months post Abby, he was- lost isn’t the right word, he thinks, shaking his head as he punches the clock and throws his jacket in his locker. Hopeless? Drowning?
Fucked?
“So, have you heard?” Trinity chirps, bracing herself against the counter of the nurses station as Frank stares up at the board.
“Heard what?”
“Paul is going to propose to Mel this weekend.” Frank internally pauses, eyes widening slightly as he feels something in his chest shift. “Going to take her to Market Square, do it right there where everyone can see them.”
“What?” Frank breathed, shaking his head. “At that fucking tourist trap of an alleyway? With all those people around?”
“Yep. It’s going to be romantic as hell!” Trinity squealed, turning away to run off in the direction of whatever gets her blood pumping- trauma, hurt kid, whatever she can throw herself into next to show off. Langdon shook his head and turned to Dana standing behind him.
“You alright?”
“Does that guy even know her at all?” Langdon asked, leaning backwards against the desk.
“They’re in love, kid. Maybe Mel has a few surprises up her sleeve.” Langdon shook his head again. Mel was an enigma to him, sure, but if she was one thing it was consistent. She liked her routines. Came in with the same coffee every day. Ate the same lunch every day. Her shirts matched the day of the week it was, and she always sat in the locker room for exactly seven minutes at the end of the shift before she got up to walk to her car. He had timed it, that way even if he was staying over he could at least walk with her some of the way, talk to her, try to learn something about her.
And, to his credit, he had. He’d learned that she loved the aquarium, but hated the zoo because it was always too hot and she hated the way her clothes felt when she started sweating- but she went with Becca anyways because she loved it. She loved Indian food but only the ones with sauces, the flavor had to be added on not cooked in before they plated it. She hated most Chinese food but loved dumplings. She watched the same shows on repeat over and over again because it was comforting to know how it ends. She hates not knowing. She hates surprises.
“Buck up, kiddo,” Dana said. “Incoming trauma. You’re gonna like this one.” Somehow he doubted that. At least it was a distraction.
“So, I heard you’ve got a big weekend planned,” Frank said, attempting to remain casual as he exited the ambulance bay, intent on walking Mel at least to the corner, if not all the way home. Sometimes when she’s had a bad day she wants the company, needs the presence of another human being to ground her in reality and prevent her thoughts from spiraling into chaos. And Frank doesn’t mind either, if he’s being honest. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, after years of being married and having children he hasn’t quite gotten as used to the bachelor life as one would expect. When he thinks hard enough, he realizes he’s never been alone before- never had to deal with his own thoughts, emotions, problems, and shortcomings. Never had to pause and consider his own life. He doesn’t think he likes it.
Mel looks over at him, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, Paul wants to go to Market Square. I’m not thrilled about it, but I’ve made him hang out with Becca and me enough on the weekends I can give up a day for him.”
“He doesn’t like Becca?” Mel pauses for a moment, rolling around the language in her head.
“It’s not that he doesn’t like her- I made it clear, you know, that loving Becca was part of loving me, and he says he loves me so that must mean he loves Becca too. He just, I don’t know, sometimes gets frustrated that we can’t go to concerts and fairs and other crowded public places like that because she doesn’t like them.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?” Mel stops walking, looking at Frank curiously.
“How do you feel about that kind of stuff? About leaving Becca on mac and cheese night?”
“You remembered.” Frank looked at her softly.
“Of course I did. Saturday is mac and cheese night. Becca looks forward to it all week. You make mac and cheese, she eats it plain, you put some kind of sausage in it, and you sit on the couch and watch some cartoon movie.”
“I told you that once, like six months ago.”
“Yeah, but clearly it was important to you.” If Frank thought it was possible, he would’ve noticed the small blush that spread as she ducked her head and started walking again. “Anyways, that wasn’t the question.”
“I don’t love it, honestly, but that’s what a relationship is, right? Compromising, doing things you don’t want to do.” Frank wanted to scream, to tell her she deserved to never have to do anything she didn’t want to do ever again, that she deserved to be the queen of the universe and have someone treat her as such, but he bit his tongue. It wouldn’t matter anyways.
They continued to walk together, Mel purposefully keeping the conversation on the surface, until they reached the corner and Mel bid him farewell. He waited until she crossed the street, then turned back towards the hospital. No point in really going home, he thought, not as long as Shen was out sick and the ER was down a doctor.
9:28pm
Trinity Santos PTMC
so, would you say yes if he asked?
Melatonin
what?
Trinity Santos PTMC
would you marry Paul?
Melatonin
oh
i don’t know really
Trinity Santos PTMC
what???????
Melatonin
he’s a great guy
i just
Trinity Santos PTMC
just what?
Melatonin
i have to get ready for bed talk to you tomorrow
Trinity Santos PTMC
mel don’t you walk away from this conversation
melissa
MELISSA KING GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT
Mel sighed, throwing her phone to the other side of the bed and looking up at the ceiling. She wanted to marry Paul, she was sure of it, he was a guy of an appropriate age with a decent job and a good family, he would be able to help her support Becca the rest of the way through residency and as she paid off her student debt, and even though he wasn’t 100% sure if Becca would be able to live with them he would help with the fees for an assisted living program and Mel could still go visit whenever she wanted and bring her Mac and Cheese on Saturdays-
Her phone snapped her out of her thoughts, the screen lighting up and speaker playing the funny chime Frank set when he stole her phone a few months ago. It bothered her a little bit at first- the fact that one tone was different from the rest of her settings, but she got used to it, and honestly made it easier to figure out whether or not a text was worth checking.
9:37pm
Frank Langdon PTMC
u did a nice job today btw
Mel
oh?
Frank Langdon PTMC
yeah, with that panic attack who thought she was having a heart attack. ur really good at that kind of stuff
Mel
you mean the stuff where i don’t really do anything
Frank Langdon PTMC
no, i meant at calming the patients down and connecting with them
of all the medicine u practiced today that probably made the most difference in a pt’s life
Mel
oh
sorry
Frank Langdon PTMC
nothing to be sorry about angel
see u bright and early :)
Mel sighed, clicking her phone off and actually rolling over to try to sleep this time.
And if she obsessed over those last texts until she couldn’t sleep, well that was okay, she had time.
And if she had to slip her hand into her sweatpants while thinking about him calling her angel, well that’s okay too.
It certainly wasn’t the best day he’d ever had in the ER. No, that had to go to one shift his second year as a resident, where he got to get in on several trauma cases who all survived and he got to show off like five new procedures he had never gotten to do before, which earned him the rare moment of true praise from Robby. Or the Pittfest shift, when he met Mel for the first time. It wasn’t the worst one either, that one went to the second or third shift back from rehab where he found out Mel was seeing someone (and he had two patients die on him, but that didn’t seem as important to him in the grand scheme of things, as fucked up as that may be).
But it was just an… off day. The ER was busy, it always was, but something was just different about the busy. It wasn’t constant, kept tricking them into thinking they could catch a break right before another slam of panicked Pittsburghers came in. They struggled through it the best they could, Mel acting as an extension of Frank’s hands until they bled into one person.
Then 6:30 rolled around.
Mel had just gone in to talk to a patient as Frank worked on orders when he heard a slam from the direction Mel was in, seconds later hearing a panicked voice shout “hula hoop.” Before the word was even out of their mouth, Frank was sprinting, shoving colleagues out of the way. He didn’t even care what was going on. He just had to get there, get to her.
Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he was seeing in front of him though: Mel, against the wall, pinned by a man significantly larger than she was, violence in his eyes. Before he could even think once, let alone twice, his hands were on the man, pulling him away, shouting. He could see the panic in her eyes, knew that the rest of the ER staff was screaming for him to stop, that he’d probably get fired if he hurt the patient, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now, didn’t mind if he lost his job. He just needed to make sure she was okay, that she wasn’t going to get hurt.
No sooner did he have the patient on the floor, staring into his eyes from above him, about to punch him when he felt hands on his back, pulling him off in the same way. He clocked who they were- Robby maybe? Abbott?- briefly before trying to struggle free to no avail. The pair pulled him into a standing position and shoved him out of the room before handing the situation to security and walking away, pulling Mel into an empty room to be seen. Frank broke in that direction before a voice stopped him dead.
“Kid, in here.” He turned around and saw Dana motioning him into the break room.
“Not right now, Dana, I gotta go see-”
“Wasn’t a fucking question, Frank. In here. Now,” she snapped, punctuating every word like it was a threat. Frank stepped into the break room, preparing for the inevitable chorus of “What the hell were you thinking,” maybe even the extended disco version with a few choruses of “How fucking stupid are you,” but instead he felt himself being pulled into a hug. Shocked by the sudden warmth, he felt tears spring to his eyes, but just as soon blinked them away.
“Dana, I-”
“No. Don’t say anything. Robby is probably gonna yell at you over this pretty bad, but you did the right thing.”
“I- what?”
“It wasn’t necessarily the correct thing, or following procedure, but it was the right thing. You got to her. You made sure she was safe. That was the right thing to do.”
“Thank you,” Frank breathed, so quietly it may have well been a whisper. Dana broke away from him, giving him one last pat on the back before giving him a push back towards the chaos.
“Go see your girl, kid.”
“She’s not-” Dana shook her head.
“Save it. You’re pretty whipped for her. Everyone knows it except for her. And maybe you a little bit. But Frank?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve gotta say something before he proposes. Because she is going to say yes. And if you don’t give her the option, you’ll always regret it.” Frank nodded and left, briskly making his way towards the room where Mel sat.
“We haven’t been able to calm her down,” Abbott muttered, looking at Mel shaking with her eyes squeezed shut. “She’s pretty far out of it, to the point where I’m not really sure what to do. She doesn’t want anybody touching her, so we can’t even properly check her out medically. I usually don’t get lost here, but-”
“Mel? Sweetheart? Look at me,” Frank called, ignoring Abbott’s rambling and pushing towards the bed. Mel didn’t answer, didn’t even seem to notice the noise, just kept pulling at her hands and whimpering slightly. Frank motioned towards the light switch, telling Abbott to turn it off, and slid the door and curtain shut, muffling the outside noise and significantly dimming the room. “Just give us a minute,” he whispered, sending Abbott into the hall and leaving him and Mel alone in the room.
“Dr. Langdon?” Mel said after a few moments, her voice small and shaky. Frank looked up from where he was sitting at her side and noticed that her eyes were still squeezed shut, tears staining her face and fogging her glasses.
“I’m here angel, right here, just you and me.” Mel reached out and Frank immediately moved himself onto the bed next to her, pulling her into his side. Mel clung to him as he removed her glasses, still shaking slightly but allowing the worst of the panic to subside.
“I don’t know what I did wrong, how I made him angry, he just came at me-” Frank shook his head, shushing her.
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. It is never your fault when a patient attacks you, love. Never.”
“But why was he so mad at me, I just don’t understand it.” Frank sighed, carding a hand through her hair.
“I don’t know, Mel, I really don’t. I just know that you didn’t do anything to cause it. I promise.” Mel exhaled and sunk further into Frank’s side, her breath evening to match his. Frank allowed himself a small smile. “Just rest here for a bit, okay? Then we’ll have Abbott check you out.” Mel tensed a little bit at that, and to his credit, Frank knows how to read the woman pretty well. “I’ll stay. Right next to you the whole time. Promise.”
And he did, watched as Dr. Abbott checked her throat, her face, her head, and every part of her that may have been injured by this motherfucker, this piece of human trash, the literal lowest form of life that decided to attack her. Turns out he had a record, and should’ve been flagged to begin with, but he didn’t disclose any of that. Typical.
“Well, Dr. King, you’re clear. Take tomorrow off, you’ll be fine.”
“But-” Mel began to protest. She needed the practice, the exposure, the experience, the money, she needed something to do, some reason why she had to take Becca to the center, she couldn’t work Saturday. Thoughts filled her head of having to explain to Paul why she suddenly had to work on Saturday instead of tomorrow, change Becca’s sitter times, explain to Becca why she was suddenly at home all day but took her to the center anyway, why she didn’t wake up early to get into scrubs and why she was so on time, early even, to pick her up and why her location was at home all day. Then she started thinking about the ER itself, what if something happened and she wasn’t here. What if the med students had a problem they didn’t know how to fix, got in over their heads? What if there was another mass casualty, or that guy came back and she didn’t get a chance to warn anyone?
“Stop,” Frank said, grabbing her arm and turning her to look at him. “You are taking the day off. That is final.” Jack looked back and forth between them, a smirk gracing his face that both of them were too absorbed to notice.
“He’s right, Dr. King. It’s a new hospital policy now, anyone experiencing a traumatic event has to take the following day off, paid.” He snorted. “Like every goddamn day of our lives isn’t traumatic.” Mel nodded slowly.
“Well I guess I just have to finish my notes then and I’ll be off.”
“No. I’ll finish them tomorrow, I’m your superior. Nothing so urgent that can’t wait at this point, right Dr. Abbott?” Frank looked at Abbott, urgency in his eyes.
“Uhh…. sure, yeah, that’s fine. Go home.” The two began to exit the room before Abbott grabbed Frank’s arm, pulling him back into the exam room and shutting the door.
“What’s going on with the two of you?” Abbott asked, a playful expression gracing his face. Frank rolled his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Abbott, you’re more of a gossip than Princess and Perlah.”
“Not an answer, for the record.”
“She’s a colleague. We get along well, and she forgets to take care of herself sometimes.” Abbott gave Frank a look, but backed off.
“Just… be careful.”
“You don’t have to walk me home, you know,” Mel said, fidgeting with her fingers and refusing to look at Frank walking beside her. He had insisted she walk inside of him on the sidewalk, away from the road, and while it was the most stupid chivalry thing she could think of, and she’s never much cared for all that, it made her feel… something. Warm. Cared for. Protected?
Loved?
She shook the thought away from her brain before she snapped back into reality. Frank was talking, saying something about how he was going to make sure she got home alright, but she couldn’t really bring herself to listen. She just wanted to lay down and have the day be over.
“It’s this one here,” she said, pointing at the tiny house squeezed in among the others. Her and Becca lived on the third floor, not anything more than a kitchen, bedroom, and tiny closet of a bathroom, Mel squeezed into one corner of the flat.
“Jesus Christ sweetheart, why haven’t you just moved in with the guy already?” Mel’s eyes went wide.
“I just, I don’t think I’m ready for that, and with Becca here, I just don’t want to change anything until I have to, and it’s permanent, and forever, and-”
“You don’t think it’ll be forever?” Mel stopped in her tracks and stuttered.
“I didn’t mean that, I mean if he proposes I’ll say yes, of course, I wouldn’t want to hurt him or anything, and anyways it would be-”
“You don’t have to say yes,” Frank said, stepping in front of her closely enough that she swore she could feel his heart beating and prayed he didn’t hear hers picking up.
“What?"
“If he asks you to marry you. You don’t have to say yes.”
“Well why wouldn’t I?” Frank somehow finds a way to step closer, using a finger to tilt her chin up until she was looking at him.
“If you don’t love him, if you aren’t sure about spending forever with him, if you aren’t completely certain that he is the one for you.” Frank looked in her eyes, eyes somehow hardening in command and softening in- Mel wasn’t sure what- at the same time. “Don’t marry him.” They stood like that for a moment, both feeling something but refusing to acknowledge it.
Mel finally broke herself away and made a start towards the door. “I have to shower and go pick up Becca,” she said, opening it in a silent command to get the fuck out of her home. Frank looked at her for another moment before he sighed, walking out of the unit and into the stairwell.
“Mel, angel, you deserve the world. Don’t marry a guy who won’t give it to you,” he said before turning around and leaving.
And Mel spent that night the same way she spent the last, imagining Frank’s finger on her chin ending very differently.
“Tonight’s the night,” Dana said, looking at Frank quizzically as he logged himself into a computer.
“What?”
“Jesus, kid, everyone in the hospital knows that Paul’s proposing to Mel tonight. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“Yeah, I guess I heard something about that. Good for her.”
“So did you?” Dana leaned in and asked, her voice lowering so that nobody else could hear. “Did you tell her?”
“I told her she didn’t have to marry him. The rest is up to her.” Dana nodded and leaned over, blocking Frank’s keyboard with her arm. Frank began to stammer in protest before being cut off.
“Go home.”
“I’m fine, I’ve only been here”- he checked the time on the board- “14 hours. Trust me.”
“Frank, you’ve been here every day this week. I know you’re trying to distract yourself, but that’s not fair to the patients and that’s definitely not fair to you. Go home.” Dana looked at him threateningly, in the way that only a woman who has seen some of the worst that the world has to offer but still comes back every day and gives herself up to it can “Go. Home.” Frank sighed and pushed himself back from the desk, arms up in surrender.
“Fine. But I’m not happy about it. And I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“You better not!” Dana called as Frank slinked towards the locker room, unsure of what to do now that he had no way not to think about it.
So he thought about it.
He thought all the way home about what she was doing, checking the time on his dashboard like it was a fucking Bible.
9:23pm. They’re probably finishing dinner, some fancy pretentious shit that Mel will pretend to like so as to not disappoint him, not look childish in public when all she really wanted was Mac and Cheese. As much as she said it was for Becca, she needed the routine too.
9:31pm. They’re probably walking down the street, hand in hand (but not arm in arm like Frank would hold her, possessing her, letting the entire state of Pennsylvania, the country, the world know that Mel King was his. If only he could be so lucky.
The time on the stove taunted him as he flopped back onto his couch, painfully aware of how it was getting later, and later, and later. He probably would propose at some random time, like 9:47, not 9:45 or 10:00 like Mel would like it, because she wants it to be even and she needs things to be timed, perfected, so she can remember them easily and a year from today she could kiss him at exactly the time he got down on his knee because that’s just the kind of person she is.
10:01pm. They’re probably driving to his place, leaving Becca with the sitter without warning, because Mel would never use her phone on a date and he wouldn’t make her feel comfortable enough to, even though he could imagine the way that her hands were ringing and her heart was constricting, torn between letting two different people down. He should pop over, he thought, relieve the sitter and and be able to text Mel that someone was with Becca, that she was safe, he thinks he knows the recipe she uses for Mac and Cheese and he could probably whip up a batch, but of course she cooked it before she left and put it in the fridge, but did Becca know? Did the sitter help her heat it up? Was the sitter even paying attention or just on her phone?
10:05pm and he had his coat and shoes back on, opening the door and-
“Frank.”
It’s been a year. It had to have been. He has been standing in his doorway for a year, staring at her in front of him. This isn’t real. This is a dream. He’s still in rehab, still on a bed hallucinating as he came down from his last high, none of this is real none of this is-
“Mel,” he forces out, more of an exhale than actual word. He could see the redness in her eyes, see the tear tracks on her cheeks but also see the blush that spreads across them as he makes eye contact with her and backs up, inviting her inside. He can see the hesitation, see the fact that she’s mulling over that he didn’t actually ask her, maybe she’s misreading the situation. “You can come in,” he says, watching her exhale and walk in the door, taking her shoes off.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve texted before-”
“What happened,” Frank cut off, not letting her apologize. She doesn’t need to be sorry for anything. She was Mel. That forgives all of her sins in his book.
“I said no.” He didn’t dare let the words register, let them sink in, let the joy spread on his face.
“Oh?”
“Well, I mean, I guess I didn’t really say no. I didn’t let him ask. He was talking about the future, talking about programs we could put Becca in and cities we could move to, but I just couldn’t, I can’t leave her somewhere and go away, I don’t think I can handle it, and my pride got in the way and I hurt someone Frank, I left him there and drove here and I didn’t even know if I was getting out of the car until I was at your door-” her last word came out more like a squeak as she noticed he had moved closer to her.
“Why else.”
“What?”
“Don’t pretend, angel,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She left it down, he noticed. She hated that. “Why did you say no?”
“Because of you,” she said. He finally dared to let the expression grace his face, the look that he hoped would let her know that he loved her more than she could ever love him. But facial expressions weren’t Mel’s strong suit, he realized, so he reached his hand towards her again, cupping her cheek and briefly smiling at the way she immediately leaned into it. His thumb brushed under her eyes, wiping a tear she didn’t even realize had fallen, silently asking for permission. She just looked at him in response.
“Mel, baby, I kind of need you to say something, because I need to know that this is real, need to know that you’re actually in front of me, and that this isn’t me just reading into you-”
“You should kiss me right now,” she said, snapping the last bit of resolve in Frank as he closed the distance between them.
Of all the ways he imagined it, he can’t say this was it. He imagined grabbing her, kissing her like he was claiming her, but it wasn’t like that at all. It was slow. Worshipping, even, as he tried to memorize every detail, hold every bit of sensory information in his head in case it all vanished.
Until he tentatively ran his tongue along her bottom lip, and she fucking shuddered, gasping into him, and something inside of Frank burst. Suddenly, it was a lot more like he imagined it, as his hand slid up and around the back of her neck, not trapping her, but holding her, anchoring the two of them to each other, as he felt her hands stuttering in the air, unsure of where to put them. He pulled away just enough to nip at her jaw before he spoke again, voice low and absolutely wrecked.
“My girl,” he said, grabbing one of her hands and placing it on his chest, tying her back to the situation. She looked up at him and God, Frank almost fell over, the way her pupils were blown and she could barely focus on him. If he didn’t know what was happening, if his doctor brain was online, he would’ve thought she was having a stroke. He dipped back down and captured her lips again, claiming her with a probing tongue as he guided her through the apartment.
All mine.