Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Mel learned by example.

Every lesson was in the form of flattery. She watched the skilled hands of the doctors around her with pinprick focus, hardly breathing as she took note after note in her head. Her best skill came in the fact that she could replicate whatever she learned almost immediately with scary accuracy.

Santos called her a robot. It wasn’t the first time someone had called her that.

Becca called it her superpower, even if it only seemed to apply to random things. Her career, some plumbing, some car things. She could replace her breaks now, which was nice considering most mechanics were a little bit dirty or extremely bright in their waiting rooms.

She had a point to this.

She blinked, taking in her surroundings. She was shoulder to shoulder with Doctor Langdon, eyes trained on the way he titled the patient’s head’s back, showing her a technique that Doctor Robby had taught him when there was no way to look for the vocal cords.

Success came in the form of Langdon’s shout of joy and her own smile.

“Boom!” Doctor Langdon said, his smirk a bit too manic as he began doffing his PPE. “Stable and off to the OR!”

Which the surgical doctor was happy to do, already rolling his eyes at Doctor Langdon as he prepped the patient to move. He was a doctor Mel had only met once or twice. She honestly missed Garica. She made Langdon witty.

“Impressive.” Mel added as she cleaned up as well, mostly under her breath, but still truly impressed by their success. Still, Langdon heard it. He held up a fist bump for her and Mel reciprocated it with a vigor that was probably too much, as always.

Langdon only smiled at her – the kind of smile that really shouldn’t be doing something to her heart – and yet it did, and she just knew she would be lamenting about it to Becca when she got home, because her sister lives for the moment she looks like an idiot.

Which she does a lot… Look like an idiot. Especially in front of one Frank Langdon.

They walked out of trauma one together after she followed the proper protocols. Her scrubs, thankfully, had survived this encounter, but the same couldn’t be said for Langdon.

“You did good in there,” Frank said as she led them to their lockers. “You pick up things fast. Next case like that is on you.”

It always surprised her to get a compliment. She was so used to telling herself that she did a good job that someone saying it out loud felt like they were just lying to her. But when Frank gave her a compliment, especially while still firmly Doctor Langhan, even she could tell he meant it.

“Thank you.” She said, a little embarrassed – blushing deeply, honestly. “Um… Are you still coming over tonight? It’s ok if not, but Becca-”

They had gotten to the lockers. Whittaker was there as was, covered in something white all over the back of his scrubs and muttering a bit bitterly to himself. This was the fourth time this week that something spilled on him. Even Santos had taken pity at this point considering it happens so much and had stopped with his personal nicknames.

“Of course I am,” Frank interrupted, as if it was easy to say. “I gotta try this pizza place, after all. Becca said the Nutella pizza was her favorite.”

It warmed her heart to hear him remember something like that. Friends had… Friends had left both of them before, because Mel needed to worry about Becca more than herself, and that meant where Mel goes Becca goes, and that…

She would never, ever be bitter that she was Becca’s primary caregiver, but… Sometimes… When someone was giving her those little flutters in her right ventricle…

“Mel,” Dennis asked her, making her spin around. “I hate to ask, really, but I’ve never seen you at the uniform dispenser… Santos is unrelenting, and I got enough nicknames from her-”

“Dude,” Landgon said, exasperated. “You gotta learn the art of ducking.”

“I was ducking, that was the problem!” Dennis said quickly back. “But Earl was walking around with a cup of milk and a turkey sandwich, and he didn’t see me grabbing my tablet that dropped on the ground, and it turned into a milk war crime.”

“Did Earl need a new gown?” Mel asked.

Whittaker sighed. “No, nothing spilled on him. Which is good! But… I just wanna wear one pair of scrubs per shift.”

“It’s not a war crime then,” Mel added. “More of milk scuffle.”

Langdon- Frank laughed, something true and real, and Mel was forced to smile with him, even when she didn’t really understand why that was funny – she was being serious, considering the definition of a war crime – but his laugh always managed to make her smile.

She liked it when Frank was happy.

“I’m buying sage,” Whittaker said, hospital gown now around him with the dirty scrubs in his arms. “Sage and an Etsy witch.”

“There’s no way that’s a thing.” Frank said, and Mel turned around to see his face. He was-

He was taking off his scrub shirt and undershirt, and Mel caught just a glimpse of a defined abdomen, with the smallest freckle to the left of his belly button, and she just about collapsed there and then.

Not wanting to be even more awkward than before, she forced herself to look at her own locker and opened it as fast as possible. Her phone was in there and, right now, she’d do just about anything to look like she wasn’t trying to see Doctor Frank Langdon getting undressed.

She grabbed at her phone like a snake against its prey – a quick strike with extreme accuracy – and darted away from the lockers.

“Gonna call Becca really quick,” looking up at the ceiling as Frank continued to change. “Um… See you tonight. After our shift, of course. Right.”

“You got it, Mel.” Frank said to her retreating back, sounding just as happy as before, hopefully not noticing her down right odd behavior– at least more than her usual.

For the first time in her career here in the ED, it was a quiet day. It had all been the basic ED cases, nothing that involved a trauma room except for the one she had with Doctor Langdon. People’s energy was up, happy to have what was apparently a normal day for the first time in months, and even Gloria had a bit more pep in her step, glad that everything and everyone was working properly.

So it was a great moment to escape via the usual ambulance doors with her phone already to her ear, the ringtone loud as she called Becca’s cell.

“Mel!” Becca said, nearly yelling her name in excitement. “You’re calling me!”

“I am,” she chuckled, sinking into her familiar safe space away from EMS and security. “I missed you. Are you enjoying your day?”

“It’s karaoke today!” Becca said with her usual enthusiasm. “My friend Katty is really good. She got a standing ovation!”

“That’s great,” Mel said, smiling wide. “Did you sing?”

“I danced,” Becca replied right away. “Because my singing is really bad, not like yours at all, but I like dancing because it doesn’t require singing, and some of my friends join me when I ask.”

The random compliment of being able to sing a half decent note was startling, but that happened often when talking to Becca. She always managed to sneak valuable information into her conversations when Mel was least expecting it.

Frank had been on the receiving end of it at least three or four times now. Each time, he had paused, rigid in his seat, and had turned his attention to Becca with barely contained amazement, looking at her as if she was capable of looking into his soul.

It had made Mel nearly suffocate from her laughter each time, her hand across her mouth as she tried to contain it. No one ever gave her sister enough credit for her observation skills. Meanwhile, Mel knew that Becca kept every secret under lock and key in her mind, ready to reveal it at the best time.

“Is Frank there?” Becca asked. “Because I made him a bracelet, and even though he said his favorite color is green, I think it’s really purple. He’s strange for not knowing his favorite color.”

“My favorite color changes all the time,” Mel answered mildly, her back leaning against the hospital’s walls. “Today, it’s blue, like the sky.”

Which was true. She had noticed its near perfection this morning on her bus ride. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky today, just endless blue, and it was so beautiful that she turned down her music and just stared at it, finding peace in how blank it was.

Becca started grumbling immediately. “Well now I have to give your bracelet on a day you love the color.”

“You can give me the bracelet at any time, maybe with Frank’s,” she said, meaning it. “You make the best bracelets.”

Which was true, because Mel was currently wearing one of the string bracelets on her left wrist. It was thin design of dark purple and blue, looking more like a hair tie than a bracelet. She liked that, since she didn’t like personal questions at work, but she was also happy to say that Becca had made it for her.

The only people that noticed things that looked like a hair tie but were not were the ones that actually cared about her. Frank, Whittaker, and – oddly enough – Santos had noticed by the second day, each of them nodding politely when Mel explained its designer.

“Alright, yeah, you got a good sibling bond with your sister, great,” Santos said, rolling her eyes. “Jesus, you gotta branch out, King. Get some friends. Hell, get a man. Or a woman. You give off bisexual vibes, I don’t really know.”

Mel had outright panicked, words refusing to come to her mind, let alone out of her mouth. No one really wanted to date her. She had heard what her peers whispered: “The weird one with the even weirder sister”.

Mel didn’t have an official diagnosis, because her dad wanted her to be the normal one, and her mom focused on Becca so much that they hardly knew each other. And after the divorce, they felt like strangers. Then their mom had died nine years ago, and their dad…

He was a bastard, honestly. There was a reason Becca didn’t make him a card for any of the holidays.

Frank got a card this year.

Her mind was spiraling. It was probably time to go back to work so her spiraling mind could do something useful.

“Tell Frank I say hi!” Becca said. “I know you have to go. You guys are the best doctors in the world. Don’t tell Frank, but I think you’re a bit of a better doctor than him.”

Mel shook her head, even if Becca couldn’t see her. “I have a lot to learn.”

“So does Frank.” Becca said right back.

Touche.

“Bye, Becca,” Mel said. “See you tonight.”

“Nutella pizza!”

And then she was gone with a small dial tone, having hung up already, no doubt the facility pulling her to the next function. Mel was very, very glad to find the place. It may mean living in a less than ideal two bedroom apartment, but it was home. Their home, something they dreamed about for a long time.

Mel focused on her surroundings, taking in a breath of air for four seconds, holding it, then exhaling for four seconds: a grounding technique. The ED was fast paced, no doubt about that, and Mel’s mind worked reasonably well in panic mood, but it was still good to take a breather.

She was just about to head back inside again when she spotted something – or someone – just outside the corner of her eye. A Caucasian man in his late forties with disheveled clothes was walking towards the ambulance bay. Considering the slow day, all EMS workers were inside along with security, chatting as they normally do.

A couple of scenarios flashed in her mind. She could redirect him to the waiting room entrance, possibly ask him what’s wrong, tell him that she was a doctor…

Granted, when she caught a rather angry look on his face, she found herself speechless, her back now rock solid against the building as if to make herself small.

It didn’t matter, the movement caught his eye.

“Hey!” He yelled, now marching to her. “What the fuck does someone have to do around her to get some help? Isn’t this a fucking hospital?”

She swallowed, trying not to feel scared. “Y-Yes, sir. Um, I’m a doctor, is there something-”

“Another fucking diversity hire,” the man laughed, but it was something ugly. “I need a real doctor, sweetheart. Someone that can tell me what the fuck’s wrong with me.”

Fear made her a coward. She slunk back even more as he got closer to her, the smell of alcohol now assaulting her senses. Her education thankfully took over, and she took in the fact that his eyes were yellow, his skin just about the same. Liver failure, most likely. It was a miracle he was walking around.

“We- we can go inside?” She said, weighing the consequences of marching the man in without going to the waiting room versus redirection him to the waiting room. “I’ll bring you to waiting roo-"

“No more waiting rooms!” He yelled, furious, now only a foot away from her- not good. “No one understands! I’m in pain. All the time, I just feel like my skin’s on fire, like something is stabbing me everywhere. The only thing that works is drinking.”

Psych, her brain whispered. This was a psych call. She struggled with immediately sending patients to psych but, right now, all her training and instincts told her that psych was a good spot. At least as a consult.

Maybe, if she led him through the ambulance doors, security would notice. Maybe.

“How- how about we go inside?” Mel offered. “I can show-”

“You wanna sick some white coat on me with a straight jacket!” The angry man said, reading her thoughts. “I can tell! I’m so tired! No one gets it. But you know what, doctor lady, I can make you understand.”

Danger-danger-danger-danger!

She’s felt the advantages and disadvantages of adrenaline so many times that it shouldn’t affect her like this. And yet, every nerve ending in her body was telling her to run, to call out, to get some distance from this man, to use her phone’s SOS function to-

She saw a knife.

It had maybe a five-inch, possibly six-inch, blade that looked pointy at the end. Black, the opposite of surgical, and it-

It was coming down on her chest, right over her heart.

She finally screamed – or yelped, really – trying to slide away, but the knife-

She had felt helpless once before like this. She was twelve. Her father was yelling at Becca, who was sobbing so much she was hardly breathing, and Mel could just see her if she jumped to look over her father’s head– with her body rocking back and forth in the corner of her bedroom, hands over her ears.

Mel had felt so useless, too scared to say anything- to stop her dad, and it took six more years to gain her independence and take her sister with her, wherever that may be. Her father had hardly looked her way, pissed off as he was, and that was fine by her.

Six years to gain any semblance of courage.

It took six seconds to register that the knife was now lodged into her chest, on the superior thoracic aperture, the handle of it still sticking out as if to say you have a medical emergency going on.

Protocols rumbled around in her head. Pressure on the wound, immediate medical attention needed, the packing of the wound, how much blood she would need and medications and what if the knife had old blood or drugs on it for some reason-

And she watched… She watched as the man with the smell of whisky all over his body stumbled away with wide eyes, his own shock reflected back at her. He opened his mouth, a hand running through his unruly long hair… And then he was gone, running back to where he had come from, like some sort of nightmare.

Her hands went to… To what? Pull the knife out? No, that would be the worst thing she could do. She needed… She needed help. She needed help now.

Numb. Overstimulated. She didn’t know, and yet her feet dragged her forward, took her back to the ambulance bay, past the double doors. The doors were open because they were all standing there, thankfully, so she didn’t need her badge…

She looked at the desk in front of her – at Dana’s desk, with her photos of her family taped up, and her kind smile and outright caring personality. She stumbled towards that personality now, but she wasn’t there, just some empty desk.

“I need help.” She whispered, because it was true, and she was scared, and she didn’t know what was going to happen… She learned by example, and this had never happened to her before.

She could die from this. She could die and leave Becca all alone, and wonder if Frank ever felt a single thing for her. She wondered if she should have said so much more before this happened – if she had an ounce of self-respect and just asked if he liked her- loved her, and yet she was so awkward.

And she needed help. Now.

“I need help!” Her voice louder.

The loudest her voice had ever been. She watched in some sort of belated horror as the entire ED froze, her tone clearly bringing everyone to her, like it was supposed to do.

Doctor Robby had come running at a speed that should alarmed her – she often found herself hiding with a patient when he started that run – and yet that speed filled her with some hope.

“Doctor King?” Doctor Robby asked, his hand hovering near her right shoulder, because he knew her silent rule about touch, and respected that, and he was a great boss and why did she never tell him how much she loved her job here…?

“Doctor King,” Doctor Robby asked again against the silence in the room. “What’s- holy fuck.”

“Stabbed,” she said, because that was the logical answer. “Outside. A patient was outside. I should have screamed. I-”

“I need a gurney!” Doctor Robby yelled, and then his hand really was on her shoulder, and it might be the first time in all of her history that someone touching her felt reassuring.

“It’s alright,” Doctor Robby said in her ear and then, louder. “Get security out there! Lock this place down! Someone get Langdon!”

“Becca,” Mel told Doctor Robby urgently, her hands braced against Dana’s desk. “I have to pickup Becca tonight. She’ll worry.”

“Tell me who Becca is,” Robby urged, and it was a tactic, because she had a better chance if she stayed awake and told them what was wrong. “You want me to call her? Here, the gurney, right behind you.”

“What happened?” Frank’s voice called out. “Where do you need me? I have- Mel!”

Frank was here.  

The tears started. They fell from her eyes without her permission, running down her face like the broken sink her family had lived with for two years before she dared to try to fix it. The pain was starting now, like a tsunami, and she wondered how much morphine they would give her.

…Wondered how long the surgery would be. How long the recovery would be, because she didn’t have time for that.

She was floating, suddenly. Or maybe someone was carrying her. They were strong, because she barely felt their arms shake when they lifted all one hundred and forty six pounds of her onto what she assumed was a gurney.

“Becca.” She said again, as she always did, but she was telling Frank this time, which meant that Frank would understand – Frank always understood – and she should have told him.

“I’ll pick her up,” Frank offered immediately, his head going up and down as they navigated the hallways. “Don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine, Mel, you got thee Doctor Robinavitch in the room.”

That wasn’t right. Of course she thought that Doctor Robby was one of the best doctors she had ever met, but he wasn’t the one that she wanted here with her right now. But it would be rude to not call him a good doctor now.

“The be-best,” she said in agreement, teeth chattering. “I lo-love wo-working here.”

“And we love having you here.” Doctor Robby said back through the orders he was giving to the trauma team.

Doctor Robby meant those words. Mel decided that it wasn’t her place to continue the conversation, in case she made it awkward.

“Mel,” Frank said. “How’s the pain? Do you need anything?”

She took stock of her own body. It wasn’t that she could feel pain, it was that she could feel it coming, like an early warning detection system. The wave was almost upon her and, soon, she knew they’d knock her out with enough pain medication to make her comfortable or knock her out.

“S-Soon,” she said, as if she was presenting a case. “Adrenaline.”

It took her a moment to recognize that Frank’s hand was in her own, gripping tightly. It took her another moment to realize that he hadn’t taken her as his patient, not really, because Doctor Robby was directing everyone else except Frank – shouting about an IV not being started yet – and then someone was cutting off her scrubs.

She was about to be naked in front of her boss and her coworkers, and her eyes went to Frank’s trying to convey the slight panic about being very vulnerable in front of people she did trust, but also worked with every day…

“Who can I call?” Frank asked her, and she didn’t know if that was a distraction, or an actual question, but it didn’t matter.

How could you say “there’s no one” without sounding like the most pathetic person in the world? She never told Langdon about her childhood, about why she had Becca, about how hard medical school was with Becca, about how hard everything was until she met these wonderful people…

Frank seemed to sense something because he nodded, the hand gripping her’s tightening a little bit more as the silence dragged out.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Frank said again, and, only hesitating a little, he put his other hand on her face, his pointer finger gently wiping away the tears from her eyes.

It was comforting. She leaned into his touch, taking in the fact that she didn’t want to flinch away, that she enjoyed someone cradling her. If she lived through this, she’d have to study the feeling closely.

“Two of morphine,” another familiar voice said. “Mel, you tell me if you need more, alright?”

Santos. God, Santos, with her strange nicknames and slightly scary behavior. Mel had seen her more than once being gentle with a patient. Kids, especially, got a rare side of her, where she would smile and giggle at them, happy to play along to understand her patient better.

“Fine,” Mel said, trying to smile at Santos, who had unshed tears in her eyes. “All fine.”

She was getting tired… Blood loss or morphine, who knew… And Mel found her eyes going to Frank’s again, just for something aching familiar, like she always craved.

“I ca-can’t le-leave Becca.” Mel confessed.

Frank only smiled, something very, very sad. “Doctor Melissa King,” he declared. “I won’t let you.”

Arrogant. Cocky. Definitions she had heard multiple people whisper about him, especially after he came back from rehab. God, the amount of times she had heard people gossiping should have been studied by a sociologist. Frank was like broken glass when he had come back, and that was because people treated him like he had jagged edges.

Mel was just happy to have him back, jagged edges or not.

Their closeness formed from a shared bond of I have a really crappy past I don’t talk about, and the rest was history.

“Sleep, Mel,” Frank said. “We got you.”

She should have said more – she finally wanted to say more – but sleep was calling her like a nightmare, and she closed her eyes, relenting to it like the coward she always was.

Frank was a good doctor.

That was his mantra. He was a good doctor, because he kept a cool head and had enough smarts to save any life, and he felt like he was a king when he was practicing medicine, theories and medications and journals he read all in front of his eyes, spread out so he could use it like his own library.

But Frank was selfish.

When he spiraled, he wasn’t a good doctor. He couldn’t see that library, couldn’t use his degree. If depression snuck up on him, he could hardly call himself a medical student, let alone a doctor.

He discovered his addictive personality through a stupid injury he retained restraining an aggressive patient. Dana had chuckled at him as he tried to fix it himself with back stretches, only to send him for an x-ray, her iron eyes giving him no choice.

The benzos were just… They made him a fantastic doctor on the low days, and he felt like he could continue being that doctor as long as he kept his head treading above water.

Mel thought he was a good doctor.

He was confused by her, at first. He was so used to medical students being eager – people like Santos, who wanted to prove themselves too quickly – but Mel was... Mel wanted to actually learn. She wanted to help people the best way she could.

They worked together on one single case and he found partnership in it, seamlessly working together like they had been doing it their whole lives. It had freaked him out at first, just for a second, to have someone know him so quickly…

It had freaked him out again to hear from multiple people that she defended him quite furiously while he was away, actually managing to be rude at some points just to get those gossiping nurses to stop speculating about his entire life like he was a soapbox for their enjoyment.

So… He talked to her, fear in his heart that she’d, too, treat him like the dipshit he was. But no, when she saw him, she was practically bouncing with a giddy smile directed at him as she held up a hand for a high five, something that delighted him more than he expected.

“Doctor Langdon!” She said, her smile contagious. “It’s great to have you back! Have you picked a patient yet- not that we pick the cases, but um… Maybe I can join you, just for the one?”

A past him would have flirted with her, would have brushed past the wonderfully addictive happiness she gave off – like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow – but he could only feel this indescribable gratefulness in his chest, nearly overcome with it.

Friendship came quickly after that, with her offering her number with an adorable nervousness, and him trying to casually give his number back, as if he also wasn’t terrified about fucking this up too.

So he met her sister, who was autistic and such a delight, and watched as the two girls bonded over things that he didn’t quite know about. Soon enough, all of them had their own little jokes, and Becca became comfortable enough to start teasing him.

“She calls you Frank,” Becca said once, giving him a wink. “First name basis with a coworker means you’re very important.”

The logic there was maybe a little… Strange… But seeing as he was slowly… Quickly… Falling in love with her sister, the strange teasing would have to be allowed.

He found comfort in their different view of the world, as if he was seeing it through a different lens for the first time. His ex-wife maybe would have stayed with him if he met Mel just a little bit sooner, but life would always be a bitch to him.

He was going to ask Mel out tonight, officially, since it would be their fourth dinner with Becca, and their six dinner with just the two of them. Becca had to be there, because that was so important to Mel, and that was fine by him.

Becca and his kids would get along wonderfully, even if Mel had her own anxieties about sharing her sister with another family. Becca got attached to people quickly with her whole heart, and that made breakups in any way more than a nightmare, which he understood.

But he liked the idea of a future with her. He didn’t think he had a future, if he was being honest.

So to hear that Robby was asking for him, his heart sank, because he didn’t want to be in a bad mood for tonight, with Robby’s mandatory bullshit talking to him crap lingering in his head. He had actually decided to walk back to triage rather than run, just to have five more seconds of freedom.

But something was happening, because nurses and doctors alike were frozen, held in place by an emergency that he didn’t know about.

His eyes found Dana’s, because she was a nice, reliable source of information, but she had her hand over her mouth, eyes filled with tears… And when she noticed him, her expression only got worse. He looked at her, his steps faltering, but Robby’s voice calling out had him continuing his run, wanting answers.

“What happened?” Frank’s asked, out of his depth. “Where do you need me? I have- Mel!”

He hadn’t told Robby about his crush.

Or, well, he hadn’t said it in words. Robby had asked him “what is Doctor King to you?” and Frank had given him the nastiest look he could muster, daring him to ask again.

“Noted.” Robby had answered, keeping his tone light. The message was loud and clear and, seeing as Mel would never let anything interfere with her work, it seemed that Robby couldn’t say anything.

And now, Robby had known to get him, because Mel was pale as a ghost, with sweat on her brow that indicated trauma, and when his eyes managed to look away from her face, he spotted the reason every single person in the ED seemed to be frozen.

“Mel,” he said again, his voice hoarse but his legs working just fine. And then he was picking her up just to put her down on the gurney, like that was something he did all the time, and he was moving with the team as he squeezed her hand, trying his best to ignore the fact that he wasn’t being a good doctor right now. Hell, he wasn’t being Langdon right now.

He was Frank, the person that Mel somehow hung out with after work, with her earnest smiles and raging intelligence. He was so fucking worried about his friend right now.

He didn’t know what he said to her, not really. It was like time was just this massive bitch, stealing his seconds, and his mind was roaring with questions, yet his heart was begging for him to give her any comfort he could provider her.

But, fuck, did he hate to see her cry. He’d seen her cry over patients multiple times now, her eyes locked on her phone that held a breathing exercise, or a pair of cheap ear pods in her ears, playing something on loop. She was obviously neurodivergent, but that had only made him love her more.

But this kind of crying? Where she wasn’t being empathetic, just scared – so fucking scared – he couldn’t help but cradle her.

And he could see the calculations she was doing in her head, of the labs that needed to be run, of the complex surgery she would need, of the recovery time, and he hated that it would interfere with her studies, because she worked so damn hard…

When she closed her eyes after the morphine, and her hand went limp in his, something broke inside of him.

He stepped away from the team working on her and out into the hallway, giving them the space they needed, but his throat was closing, and his hands were sweating, and he felt like he could either rip something apart with his bare hands or collapse until the ground swallowed him whole.

And then Robby was there, sneaking himself closer until his shoulder was against his, his eyes tracking the work being done to the person he loved-

Ah, shit. He loved her.

What a fucking devastating way to admit it to himself.

“Becca?” Robby asked gently, wanting to know why Frank wasn’t calling her already most likely.

“Uh…” Frank replied, trying to find a way to keep Mel’s personal life away from work, like she wanted, but failing. “Becca is her sister. She’s autistic, in a facility. I was having dinner with them tonight, which means the facility can’t keep her overnight. I… Have to pick her up.”

Robby hummed… A very high note, something that drew Frank’s eyes away from Mel.

Robby’s eyes were also filled with unshed tears, his hands shaking. “I’m really fucking tired of my people getting hurt.”

A double meaning, how so like Robby. He either meant the actual incident that caused Mel to be fast tracked to the OR – Santos was on the phone, her voice quieter than he ever heard – or Robby was worried about him.

Probably both, since Robby was a good human being despite all the shit he saw and dealt with, and Frank never did give him enough credit for letting him come back.

He was having a lot of revelations today. His sobriety sponsor was gonna have a field day.

Robby rubbed at his face. “There’s another emergency contact in her forms. Her father. Policy states I gotta call him.”

He didn’t know anything about her childhood. There was a reason for that, something he would not confess to Robby, mostly because Frank didn’t know himself.

But he couldn’t think of a reason to not call her emergency contact, given the circumstances, and maybe her father could watch Becca while Frank stayed with Mel, or vice versa, whatever worked.

“Call ‘em,” Frank said with a sigh. “I… She never said anything about her family. I can’t justify breaking policy for that.”

Robby nodded. “I need to talk to everyone, calm them down,” he said. “I need you to be ready for some long, hard days. Cash in the last of your PTO days, or even just unpaid leave. I’ll make sure Gloria doesn’t fire you.”

Surprise lingered for a moment, but Frank had always underestimated Robby’s compassion at the worst moments. “Thank you.”

“This shouldn’t have happened,” Robby said, self deprecating now. “Mel is… She’s a good doctor. I’ve been begging Gloria for almost a year to up the security since Dana got hurt.”

The doors to trauma one opened before Frank could respond. There was a breathing tube down her throat now, ready for surgical, and Santos was now steely eyed as she helped moved Mel. He hadn’t realized it, but Whittaker was on the other side, his tears not wiped from his face as they did the patient transfer.

They were friends, as far as Frank knew. They all came in at the same time, that usually meant something… Trauma bonding, no doubt, and that group had a particularly hard first day.

The ED silenced itself again as people caught sight of Doctor King, everyone recognizing how bad it was just by the intubation alone. Frank would almost call it an honor walk as the student doctors pushed Mel into the elevator, everyone quiet when the small ding indicated that the elevator was here.

“Go get Becca,” Robby told him, putting a steady hand on his shoulder. “Do what you need to do. The surgery is going to take a while. And call me if you need me, alright?”

Robby moved away before Frank could say anything else. Maybe Frank wanted to thank him, properly, for the first time since he had been back, or even yell at him that he could do whatever the hell he wanted, just to get some anger out about what happened…

Mel had to be ok. He wasn’t gonna survive if she didn’t make it.

He looked around at his little slice of another piece of him… And made his way to the lockers, resigning himself to having one of the hardest conversations he ever had with Mel’s sister.

“Gloria!” Robby shouted, real anger in his tone as he caught his chief medical officer trying to slink away in the madness. “Just the woman I want to talk to.”

Gloria, truth be told, looked like a deer in the highlights… And honestly, as she should. Every single worker in the place was inching closer to her, sensing some blood in the water, and Gloria did not look ready for it.

Still, the woman smiled, if not a little strained. “I promise you, Doctor Robby-”

“Robinavitch.” He corrected.

“Doctor Robinavitch,” Gloria corrected, wincing at his tone. “We are going to do everything to make this right.”

“Like you did for Dana?” Someone asked in the crowd, their body hidden. Good, Robby didn’t want to write anyone up. Granted, he wouldn’t, but if he didn’t know who shouted…

Dana said nothing at Robby’s glance at her. In fact, her eyes went to the ceiling, her lips in a thin line as to not get in trouble. Still, the agreement was there. Robby could only smirk.

“We did add more security cameras,” Gloria said, her nervousness clear. “And that will help in the investigation of-”

“What are cameras gonna do if we don’t have the personnel?” Someone else asked in the crowd. “Well, maybe now that a doctor is hurt, you’ll do something about it, right?”

Those were fighting words. In fact, he had some real fighting words himself.

“Maybe we should reenact that last strike?” He said, looking at everyone. “How can we be asked to work if there’s unsafe working conditions? Our union is prepared for something like this. A doctor, one of the most empathetic and kind doctors I have ever had the honor of working with, getting stabbed on hospital grounds…”

Guilt was clawing at his chest, he was almost surprised he didn’t see it bleeding out of him.

“Doctor King could die because we weren’t staffed properly,” Dana added this time, her words the words of god to some people here. “She deserved better.”

“Dana deserved better!”

Damn right she did.

“I can provide in depth training to our security team,” Gloria offered. “And I will speak to the board about hiring more security for the ED alone.”

The word strike had rallied people, just as Robby had wanted. He loved his job – most days – and he wanted what was best for everyone. Two people getting hurt within a year of each other, one of them needing major surgery, was too much even for him.

He would gladly lose a paycheck or two if it meant fixing it for people like Dana Evans and Mel King.

“We have a union,” Robby said, looking at everyone except for Gloria. “Should we decide to exercise that right, I would not fault a single one of you. In fact, I’ll be the first on the picket line.”

“Robby.” Gloria snipped at him, but fuck bureaucracy and the money it came with. If he lost Doctor King, he’d lose his ever-loving shit and it would be worth it.

“No, Gloria,” he said strongly. “This isn’t about my job, or even being a doctor, this is about doing the right fucking thing. And if doing the right thing means you fire me here and now, then swing that axe. I’m ready.”

People yelled at that, shouts of denial going around, but he wanted to make that point. Mel was worth it. Dana was worth it too, but he was blinded by his guilt over Leah, from the day from hell, and that he lost such a vital part of himself when Jake screamed at him… He’d blame PTSD from not being strong enough that day to walk when he needed to.

He was so, so lucky Dana stayed: The Hail Mary of the entire department.

“I will talk to the board,” Gloria repeated. “I know everyone is upset, and I am sorry for that, but allow me to talk to the board to see what I can do.”

People weren’t happy with that answer. Robby was hardly happy with that answer, but if she was actually going to talk to those bunch of assholes, they had a shot at getting things fixed around here… Starting with security actually doing their fucking jobs.

Gloria sighed, her eyes going down. “I wish Doctor King an easy recovery. She… I think everyone knows that her care and compassion truly light up this department.”

And with that, as all politicians do, she left the floor with her head held high and her shoulders back, not glancing at him as he did so.

Which left him the rest of his troops, still waiting on his final word.

“We have one more hour until our shift is over,” he lamented to people. “I understand if people want to strike now… But a paycheck is a paycheck, and a lot of us have families. If we wait for Gloria, she may actually give us something this time…”

He sighed, his hands going to his eyes to rub them. “This is wrong. All of you should be safe here. This hospital has let you down. Should you wish to seek different employment, please see me for a recommendation letter. I promise you, it will be one of the best.”

Doctor King’s… Mel’s… Shout had scared him. It reminded him of all of patient’s kids that screamed something similar, of all the patients that died under his care. Mel had performed beautifully during her first day, the makings of one of the best doctors, and it hurt to think that she would leave because of this, because she should leave…

His heart was breaking.

“I will work with security now,” he promised. “For now, please do not leave these walls unless you’re leaving the building for the end of your shift. I’ll have an officer at the employee entrance to walk everyone to their cars.”

He sighed again, a headache coming on. “I understand if you would like to go home now. Please do so. If you need me, I will be near the ambulance entrance.”

People filtered out slowly, no doubt mulling over the strike. The gossip would be legendary. When had an attending encouraging a strike? He was probably insane – Gloria was plotting ways to fire him now – but seeing Mel’s face when she looked at him, that knife in her chest…

Another thing to haunt his closet.

He thought about the first time he had seen Doctor King. She had smiled – a twinkle in her eyes, with the general nervousness of being somewhere new. He clocked that she was neurodivergent by the swaying of her body alone, but he had seen some great med students come through his doors with something similar. He himself probably has some attention disorder of some kind.

And while he had met her on a day that he truly fucking hated, he found that she was a stable presence in his ED. Good instincts, willing to listen to patients and doctors alike, and had probably answered the question why do you want to be a doctor with the classic, and real, I want to help people.

He never worried about her in a way that he needed to with other students. Instead, he worried about her health, how much she can handle, how she needed to regulate... He would have thought the ED would break her, but she took on patients at a fantastic speed and with great care.

All this to say… She was a favorite of his, and he really wished he fucking told her that before all of this shit went down.

Dana found him when he finally got his feet to move again – of course she did, she was good at that – and met him step for step, making him say “I’m fine” before she could ask.

“Can’t risk your job, Robby,” Dana said. “Gloria’s gonna be a bloodhound now.”

“Let her,” Robby said offhandedly. “This is partially her fault. Doctor King… Mel… Jesus, she’s only in her thirties.”

“And she’ll live,” Dana answered right. “You heard Langdon- thee Doctor Robinavitch is in the room.”

Of course she was listening. In the panic of it, Robby had shut the emotional side of his brain down, needing to focus on the medicine. Frank was there to do the emotional crap and, considering the relationship that was clearly there, he made the right call.

“Shit, Frank,” he said, worried once again. “He’s not gonna take this well.”

“None of us are,” Dana muttered. “Out of every doctor in this place, it being King was…”

Yeah, he knew what Dana meant. That was his unproblematic child. Her only downfall was her lack of confidence and, when it mattered most, she didn’t let her doubt get to her. Given another year, she’d only have that doubt once in a while, when a case she had never seen before came to bite her in the ass.

“Betcha it was the same spot I got hit,” Dana muttered. “Probably trying to get some air, the poor thing.”

He shook his head. “What the hell was security doing? There should always be someone outside the door.”

Dana hummed, an unpleasant sound. “Gotta break up their little gambling room. Only way to get them out there even during the Q days.”

Q meaning quiet, because no one wanted to risk a busy day at the ED, not even new I must prove myself doctors. And god, he thought he had a Q day today, he really did.

They arrived at the ambulance doors. The EMTs had scattered back to their ambulances, not wanting to get blamed, but the hospital security was already lined up like he was a drill sergeant and it was their first day at boot camp. Shit, maybe he should have Abbot talk to them.

“Yeah,” Dana said, pointing at each them like an old timey witch. “You boys just kept standing like that. I’ll let Doctor Robby handle this one.”

He sighed again, wishing for a higher power, and glared at the two workers.

“Show me what happened.”

Becca was silent.

Frank knew for a fact that that was not normal. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, stretching the fake leather, and he damn near lost it when he heard Becca take a strained breath, obviously trying to hide her tears.

“I talked to her on the phone after Katty sang,” Becca said, as if trying to piece it all together. “We talked about colors. She said her favorite was sky blue today.”

Frank wondered if rehab, his divorce, or this was more painful. “We’re gonna go through the ED,” he told her gently. “I left a few of my things in my locker, and I’ll check with Doctor Robby, and then we’ll go from there.

“Mel trusts Doctor Robby.” Becca said, as if that was an answer – as if she was agreeing with his plan.

But he only said those words because he was trying to see if it was a good plan. Honestly, he had no idea what the fuck he was doing. Picking Becca up had been part one – had allowed him to come up with eight different ways on how to tell her – and then, after telling her, he was short a damn braincell.

But Robby would tell him what to do, like he always did whether he liked it or not, and that had to be enough for now.

Becca did not cry, something that kind of freaked him out, but she did not say anything either. She had her arms around her legs in the passenger chair and was rocking as best as she could in the car, trying to ground herself.

He read studies after that one case Mel had helped him with on her first day. He was inspired by the way she had managed to actually connect with Travis and his sprained ankle. If he hadn’t lost his job that day, he was almost positive it would have made him a better doctor.

Still, maybe he wasn’t a better doctor from it, but he could be a better friend.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Frank asked Becca, his voice low and quiet.

“I’m scared about Mel,” Becca said, factually, as if it was Mel presenting a very serious case. “I’m scared about where I’m going to sleep tonight, when I’m going to eat, and if I’ll have my favorite blanket nearby. I want to talk to Mel, but you told me that she’s not awake, so I can’t. And since I can’t talk to her, I’m not sure why we’re going to the hospital.”

Frank nodded to himself, catalogue all of those questions. In all honestly, in some way, he had the same questions himself, she just managed to simplify it. He liked that.

“I’m scared too, for Mel,” he agreed, just as factually. “If you want to sleep at home, I will take you there – with your blanket – and make you or order you whatever you would like to eat. I want to talk to Mel too but she needs to heal right now. And… And we’re going to the hospital because I want to see Mel and… And to get my things.”

“I don’t want to see Mel,” Becca said as they finally pulled into the parking lot. “Mel says that people coming out of surgery can say strange things, or even not wake up for hours, and that they’re pale and need a lot of care. I don’t want to see her like that.”

Frank nodded to himself, breathing out a little as if he had any air in his lungs to begin with since this all happened. “Ok. I have a friend, Kiera, that’s gonna sit with you while I’ll check on Mel and get my things. Would that be ok?”

“Is she nice?” Becca asked. “Because Mel hasn’t told me about her, and I trust Mel.”

Of course she would trust Mel’s judgement about people. God, Mel was honestly way too good at being a sister- at being a mom, really.

“She’s really nice,” Frank assured her. “And if you’re ready, we can go meet her.”

Becca opened the car door without another word and, a bit surprised, it took another three seconds for Frank to do the same. Frank went to say something about staying by him, but he found himself speechless when she took his hand, squeezing very tightly.

He knew she hated touch. He had only ever seen Mel touching her – fixing her clothes, or playing with her hair, or just a high five – so he found himself a little dumbstruck that she initiated the touch with him.

But hell, he felt just about ten times better with someone next to him, so he took her hand and squeezed it just once before he began to walk to the employee entrance.

The ED was loud, of course, and Frank watched as Becca used her free hand to move her soundproof headphones from around her neck to her ears. It was a good coping mechanism, something that the facility taught her, apparently, and Frank let her do it without compliant.

Robby, of course, saw them the moment he made it up to Dana’s desk.

He finished his conversation with one of the med students he couldn’t remember the name of and jogged over to him, his expression blank. The same face he used when speaking to a family with tears in their eyes.

Well, shit, he probably fit that description.

And, of course, he looked at Becca first, a small smile on his lips as he greeted her. “You must be Becca.”

One single earphone was moved out of the way. “You must be Doctor Robby. Mel likes you a lot. She says that you’re really good at teaching her, and that she hadn’t had another doctor as understanding as you.”

Frank’s smile was rather large as Robby failed to respond, his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish.

“Besides Frank.”

Frank’s smile fell from his face, but Robby’s grew to fix it, seemingly happy that Frank’s heart was growing two times its size in his chest, because of course he heard the compliment from Mel’s sister, who was going through her own crisis.

“Your sister is one of the best doctors I have tried to teach,” Robby assured Becca, and Frank was only a little bit surprised to note that he wasn’t lying. “Would you like to see her?”

Robby’s eyes flickered to Frank’s. It helped, seeing in only his stare that – yes – Mel was still alive, no, there were no updates, but that’s a bad thing and he knew that.

A part of his lungs inflated at knowing that Mel was still alive.

“No,” Frank said for her, not wanting to make it a big deal. “Could you get Kiera? Let’s have her sit with Becca. Right, Bec?”

“Yes, please.” Becca said, squeezing his hand again.

“Ok,” Robby said, his voice soft. “I will be right back. Frank, how about we put her in the family room?”

“Come on, Becs,” Frank said, getting the silent message. “Do you like puzzles? I know the one that has all of the pieces.”

Because a family had been in there for six hours with a seven-year-old, who really wanted to do the five hundred piece puzzle, and since Frank wasn’t sure at the time if his twelve-year-old sister was going to make it, Frank had seen him complete it.

The sister had made it, and the puzzle had been maticiously put back in the box, and Frank had felt something heal in him at seeing it.

He was hoping for the same thing to happen. Please.

“I like puzzles.” Becca agreed, and Frank found himself walking to the family room with multiple eyes on him. Nurses were outright whispering literally right in front of him, and doctors were staring at him like he had two heads.

He could just hear them. “Frank’s holding someone’s hand.” “Frank does have a heart.” “Frank has friends outside of work.” “Frank has a friend after being a drug addict?”

He tried very hard not to be pissed, or to be reminded of the day he came back, or how the whispers reminded him of his ex-wife’s, not believing him at all about literally anything. He thought of his own kids as he opened the door to the family room and led Becca inside, how their hands felt in his, and how he missed them so much in this moment.

“I like Doctor Robby.” Becca said, releasing his hand as she found the corner of the room, where a table had been setup with the exact puzzle he was thinking of on top of it. Clearly, it was a crowd favorite.

“Uh- I do too,” he said, not lying, but also thinking of the hell he went through. “He’s a good man.”

Too good, given their history.

Frank was really tired.

He was guessing that Mel was still in surgery, not the ICU, and not... Not somewhere else. So he had time to wait for Kiera – please be Kiera on duty for social services, because she was the best, and he knew that she would be great for Becca – and he found himself across from Becca, opening the puzzle box of a circus theme, and watching as she flipped all the pieces over one by one.

“How long will we be here?”

He caught himself on the we part of the sentence, because someone actually counting him in plans was a little bit new, and he couldn’t help but look at her as she calmly continued to work on the puzzle.

She had some of Mel’s features, mostly her smile, but a lot of her was different compared to her sister. Her glasses were thicker, and her eyes were a little bit more round. She also had Mel’s high cheekbones, he realized, and yet her jawline was slimer, creating a sharper edge that he just noticed.

She was pretty and, in many ways, much smarter than himself.

“Frank,” Becca asked without looking in his eyes. “How long will we be here?”

“Um,” he said intelligently. “I just want to check with Mel’s doctors to see how she’s doing, and then I can take you home. About an hour. Would that be ok?”

“Yes.”

Well, he’d take it. Often, when he was dealing with families, there would be hysterical tears. Becca wasn’t happy, but she was calm, and he found strength in that.

God, he hadn’t taken time to ask himself how he was doing. What would he be like when he left this room – left the job of being the strong one – and how would he take the news of everything that damn knife nicked? Fuck, if it was her heart…

The door opened again.

Thank every god he had ever heard about, it was Kiera that greeting him, her comforting smile on full display as she closed the door behind her. She gave him one look – are you alright?  – and he nodded as best as he could, using his head to gesture to Becca.

“Becca, this is Kiera,” Frank said, standing so that Kiera could take his seat. “She’s going to sit with you while I check on your sister. Is that ok?”

“Yes,” Becca answered, still calm. “Hi, Kiera. Do you like puzzles?”

“I do, Becca,” Kiera said kindly, nodding at Frank to give him permission to leave. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s a big puzzle.”

It was so simple. He’d almost kill for the way Becca, and Mel, managed to connect to people. Both of them were like the sun, where it was so nice to be close to them and feel their warmth, and people just gravitate towards them because it was easy to be close to them.

He found himself needing Mel like he was the earth since coming back to work. He should have thanked her. He should have-

“Doctor Langdon, Frank,” Kiera said, her voice professional and also comforting, somehow. “Doctor Robby is ready for you. Becca and I will stay here.”

“Ok,” Frank said, swallowing. “Becca, I have my phone on me. I’m a phone call away.”

“A phone call away from me too,” she answered. “I’m worried about her.”

“Yeah,” he said, his throat getting tight. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He turned away like a coward, not wanting to give her false platitudes about Mel making it out of this, of her being ok, because Becca would sense that he was lying, he had no idea how she was, because the knife had to of hit her lungs, maybe her heart, and that required so much surgery and prayers and-

Robby put his hand on his shoulder.

“Breathe,” he instructed, eye to eye with him. “Can’t lose it now, Frank.”

“I am entitled to lose it whenever the fuck I want.” He answered like a petulant child, because he was feeling like a child, and he still wasn’t quite sure what he thought about Robby besides this is the man that sent me to rehab and who once thought the world of me.

Robby, though, was finally looking him in the eye without some sort of lingering bitterness, yet Frank found himself stepping away from his so-called comforting hand on his shoulder. He needed space.

Robby’s lip went into a thin line, no doubt reading too much into Frank’s distance. He tended to do that with people he cared about, always shouldering more guilt than he should.

But that was none of Frank’s business these days.  

“She’s in the ICU,” Robby said. “That’s all I know. Room two. Her doctor is Garica, who apparently turned into a hellion who demanded only the best to work on her. She’s waiting for you up there.”

“I didn’t tell you about Mel.” Frank said, like an idiot.

“I think you’re the only one that doesn’t know about you and Mel,” Robby answered right back. “Mel included.”

Well that was… That didn’t… He came with baggage, like the shitstain he was, and he didn’t want Mel to get involved if she really didn’t want to. But Mel was so clear about boundaries when outright asked, and she said Becca liked him, which meant something to her…

“Breathe,” Robby said again. “Existential crises are only on Tuesday.”

“Then it’s Tuesday.” Frank hissed.

Robby nodded, giving it to him. “You gotta decide now if you want the news as if you were a family member, or Mel’s doctor. Garica won’t hold back, you know that, but sometimes hearing it in a clinical way can-”

“Details matter,” Frank said. “And considering I’m her sister’s keeper until-”

“Their father is on their way.”

Robby didn’t look happy about that. Shit, why wouldn’t he be happy about that?

“You talked to him?” Frank asked, curious despite everything.

“I think Doctor King put him down as her emergency contact for the sole reason of putting someone down.”

Shit.

“Fuck,” he whispered, insanely tired now. “Do you- was he- should I stop him from-”

“It’s none of my business,” Robby said, rubbing at his face. “Or yours. But he didn’t know where Mel worked. Didn’t ask about Mel’s condition, just the address.”

It sure as fuck felt like his business, didn’t it? There was rage in Robby’s eyes, one Frank had only seen when he was dealing with domestic violence cases. He may not have been Jake’s father, but he was a parent, and a parent tended to know when another parent was a deadbeat.

God, was that how he saw Frank now, after everything?

“Frank,” Robby said then, hesitating. “I’ll let Garcia tell you, then. And… I know we had our differences in the past, but-”

“I’m not ready to forgive you yet,” Frank interrupted. “You’re right, about me, about how you handled the whole thing, but…”

He had lost everything due to Robby reporting him to HR, and making him go to rehab, and the condition he put in place when he came back. For two months, he had considered if the world even needed him. The only thing that kept him going was his kids.

And, now…

“I’m here for you,” Robby said anyway. “As a friend. Even if you just need me to bring you and Mel’s sister some food.”

He was too damn good for this world, especially for this profession. If a kid asked every single one of the people in the building what made someone a good doctor on career day, Doctor Robby would be displayed on stage with a first place ribbon and a plaque that said “best doctor in the world”.

Sometimes, Frank was a real asshole for not forgiving him.

“Thanks, Robby,” he said, despite it all. “Keep an eye on Becca, please? I’ll be a couple of minutes.”

Robby looked like he wanted to say something but, luckily, he only nodded at him. Frank finally figured that was a good enough moment to end this very difficult conversation and turned away to head for his locker.

Coward, indeed.

Santos, of all people, was there. She was sitting down on the shitty bench the hospital had given them for some ten-year anniversary or something, and – god dammit – was silently sobbing.

“Shit,” she said, anger in her tone as she tried to hide her face. “Of course it’s you.”

“Trust me,” he said right away, walking past her to get to his locker. “Not ideal for both of us.”

Since Santos was directly the reason his life was ruined for a good while there, he held no sympathy for her at all. When they worked together, they avoided each other like the plague, not saying a word.

Apparently, according to Mel, Santos didn’t even give him a nickname or mention him once while he was gone. He wasn’t sure if it was guilt or extreme ignorance, but it had worked so far.

Also, Mel had mentioned being uncomfortable by her – Mel had taken it as a challenge to better understand her, of course, because she was nothing if not having a need to understand everything around her – and he simply didn’t like the idea of the two of them hanging out in any capacity.

Frank entered his locker combo as fast as humanely possible, not wanting to stay here and ask why she was upset.

“I do like Mel.”

“Didn’t ask,” he muttered, grabbing his watch and extra shirt. “I’m not too interested in talking to you right now.”

“Of course.”

That was a shocker. Not just the words, but how she accepted it. She sounded properly chastened too, like she knew she had done something wrong just by looking his way.

God, why was today so freakin’ hard.

“Listen,” Frank said, closing his locker. “All I know is that Mel is confused by you, that you’re a stupidly amazing doctor, and that you give people ulcers for breaking rules and yet being great at whatever rule you’re breaking. If you’re crying because you fucked up, then-”

“Jesus,” Santos said, standing. “How heartless do you think I am? Mel has just been attacked at our work, and you think I’m crying because I fucked something up?”

Frank didn’t believe her. “You call her Melanoma. You never listen to her, even though she has more experience, and she-”

“I call everyone names,” Santos yelled, her tear stain face now pale. “I’m an asshole! It’s my thing!”

“Yeah, okay, great,” he said right back, now pushing past her just to leave the room and not deal with this. “Just don’t do it near her, alright? Even before this, she had enough to deal with. She didn’t…”

Whatever gusto she gained from their little discussion faded out of her. She nodded at him, her eyes drifting to the floor. “I do care about her, Langdon.”

He tried very hard not to make a face at that. Maybe she really did care about Mel, but she had to have the shitty way of expressing it. And with the way Mel formed relationships, her aggressive behavior was just that- aggressive. The fact that Mel felt anxiety around her was something that didn’t sit right with Frank.

But who was he to limit Mel’s friendships?

“Santos,” he sighed, hating that he had to be the bigger person right now. “Thanks… For taking care of her back there. You did good.”

He didn’t care to listen to her next sentence or even see her expression. He turned his back to her, his things clutched in his hand, and weaved through the crowd once more, dodging concerned looks and pitiful glances just like he did when he came back: by outright ignoring them.

It was time to talk to the Grim Reaper’s gatekeeper.

Frank would trust Doctor Garica to operate on him if he ever needed it.

She was quick-witted and wicked good with a blade. Her wit matched her brilliant surgical skills, something that he highly respected even if he never told her, and he a massive amount of thankfulness for her after a long day of work.

He’d seen her bring people back from some of the worst.

“She’s stable and recovering,” Garcia said, nothing in her expression. “It’s the full work up, Langdon. Traumatic pneumothorax, which I’m sure you knew already. Robby was hopeful we could get away with a chest tube but… VATS revealed… Well, we had to go in surgically.”

Frank nodded to himself, not liking where this was going. “What are you not telling me?”

Garcia’s expression, for the first time he had even seen, fell. “It got her aorta, Langdon. I… She’s on cardiopulmonary bypass.”

His own heart was going to stop working. “No, wait. That’s… I saw the knife wound, I could have sworn it was below the heart. I…”

Was it? He had trouble looking at it while it was happening – because it couldn’t be happening. How-

“For aortic aneurysm repair?” He asked, shock flooding his system. “But… God, she can’t be on ECMO. She can’t.”

“The graft was successful,” Garcia said, as if that was comfort. “Typically, patients leave the hospital in about week. She had some of the best in that OR, Frank. She’s going to make a full recovery.”

Yeah, a recovery that meant she had a large scar on her body. And she would need to be on so many medications, and less strenuous activity for a long time, possibly rehab…

And most likely repeat her schooling, because she would miss too many days.

“When…” He swallowed. “When can she come off ECMO?”

“As long as she’s breathing on her own without the ventilator, the sooner the better,” Garica admitted. “Given her age, I expect tomorrow morning. I want to let her body rest as long as I can considering the trauma.”

Ventilator. How the hell did he forget about that?

“It’s a painful recovery, Langdon,” Garica admitted. “She’s going to be physical weak. Does she have someone at home to help?”

“She takes care of everyone, not the other way around.” He laughed, something that sounded ugly even to his ears. “Even me. She takes care of me. Shit, Garcia, this was the last thing I ever expected.”

Garcia’s medical façade faded, just for a moment. “She’s good for you, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he said, unable to lie right now. “I have no idea where the hell I’d be without her. She just made coming back here something more than tolerable, and I never properly thanked her. God, why am I always such an ass?”

“Hey, only I get to call you an ass and mean it,” Garcia said, obviously trying to cheer him up. “Frank… You heard me. A full recovery. I mean that. This… This is shit. I didn’t really know her, but I knew that she knew you. And if she can survive your dumbass, she can survive this.”

He didn’t need someone to hold his hand right now – it would break him, anyway. “Can I see her?”

“Technically,” she said, wincing. “No. But I know the cameras are out in this hallway, and that nurses think you’re cute for some ungodly reason that make me sick, and I’m going to walk away from outside this room and pretend I’m too tired to see you.”

Frank could have cried – may have even thanked her – but she was walking briskly away without another word.

Their relationship had been strained due to his actions. He knew that he had lost her trust and, because of that, their teasing comedy act was strained, almost as if it was rehearsed. He hated that it change and Garcia didn’t seem willing to talk to him outside of a professional capacity.

He missed her. He hated that he couldn’t do anything about that.

Frank looked at the singular CICU room, with its curtains drawn, and wondered when the last time he hesitated due to fucking curtains, and he found himself stomping forward, gaining confidence in each step.

-Until he saw her.

She was more medical equipment than she was Mel. The ventilator obscured her face to the point he barely realized her glasses were missing. The thin, white hospital blanket hid the other tragedy that was the ECMO device at the foot of the bed, and he spotted a good six IVs running into a central venous catheter sowed into her neck.

He’d seen patients like this thousands of times. Still, there was something entirely different about being on the opposite side of it, where all of his medical knowledge was thrown into the garbage to just really take in how much this sucked.

Becca made the right decision.

He stood there, staring, for what felt like an eternity. They… They were really, really good friends, but being here while she was like this… Did he even have a right to be here?

“Doctor Langdon?”

He flinched, his body turning to face the door as if a murderer was coming for him. It was only the RN probably in charge of Mel as the night descended on them, and he felt a little stupid as he said nothing, trying to get his mind to work.

“I’m Pat, the nurse on duty,” she said calmly. “I hear she’s one of our own…?”

“Uh-yeah… Yeah,” he said, blowing air out from his cheeks. “Doctor King. It’s been… A long day.”

“I’m sure,” Pat said, her smile kind – he just realized her scrubs had little cats on them. “Do you need something, Doctor Langdon?”

“A drink,” he answered honestly. “But other than that, no. I… I can’t stay with her tonight. You’ll…?”

What? Take care of her? Watch Mel like she was one of her own? No, she would hate special treatment. She’d hate all of this.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I take care of all of my patients to the best of my ability,” she answered dryly. “And I promise to keep it that way.”

“Of course,” he said with a strained smile. “Thanks. Uh, I have- have to go.”

He turned to leave, because what else was he going to do – and he had to ignore the fact that he didn’t even hold Mel’s hand, or talk to her, but would she even want that while she was like this? – and just before he passed Pat, he paused.

“She hates bright lights,” he said. “I want to be here when she’s extubated, but she hates bright lights and loud noises. So, maybe-”

“I’ll make sure the lights above her head are off,” Pat said, stating it as a fact. “I’ll even put it in her chart.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, because he meant. “Uh… Thank you.”

“Doctor Langdon,” Pat called to his retreating back. “I don’t have you listed as an emergency contact.”

He winced, his body tensing as he turned around. “I-She is- Mel…”

“So it’s Mel, huh?” Pat said, a teasing lit to her voice. “A friend?”

God, was he going to have to explain himself to every single person in this place? “We work together.”

“Of course,” Pat said, nodding innocently. “So you don’t want to leave your number here in case something changes in her condition?”

He laughed a little, relieved. “I’m a very good coworker, you know?”

“I’ve seen many coworkers in my time,” Pat said, winking at him. “Give me the number, Doctor Langdon.”

He rattled it off quickly, watching as Pat the RN wrote it down neatly on her badge with an expo marker. She did so without much questioning and, smirking once again, made a humming noise.

“Only family gets updated,” she mentioned, as if he didn’t already know. “Look at that, you’re a long lost cousin once removed.”

He laughed, actually laughed, and nodded up and down dramatically. “Once removed.” He agreed.

He realized as he turned away that it was perhaps the first time someone in this hospital treated him as if was a regular person. He had forgotten what it felt like to be trusted right out of the gate and, realizing that he was still standing there like an idiot, he finally walked away from Mel’s hospital bed.

He had to take care of Becca… Just for one night.