Chapter Text
Mel was seething, she didn’t seeth, often, it felt unnatural to her. Her skin prickled and the hair on her arms stood up and something rolled around in her stomach, like she’d swallowed a baseball. Without the constant motion of the ED, and without her headphones, there was nothing to distract her from her thoughts, or her anger, while she waited for the bus. Becca was being unreasonable. It wasn’t rare for Becca to be unreasonable, but it was usually directed at someone else. Mel didn’t like to be on the receiving end of it. Sure, Becca was entitled to her privacy, sure she could make her own decisions, whatever, she had no obligation to tell Mel about her sex life, Mel didn’t really want to hear about the endless, amazing sex Becca got to have all the time, anyway. It would actually be great if she didn’t have to, but she did, because Becca having sex had led her to the emergency room with a UTI. That made it Mel’s business, at least a little. And besides all that, she couldn’t wrap her head around the refusal to give his parents phone number. Had Becca met them before ? Did they know how to comfort her, if the spare pair of headphones they had didn’t fit right, and Becca didn’t wear them, and the noise of the fireworks sent her over the edge ? Did they know how to talk her down from hurting herself in the middle of a meltdown ? Sure, their son was autistic, too, but it’s not one size fits all, and Becca was an individual person with individual needs. It was Mel’s job to take care of her. It was her most important job.
Every time Mel tried to calm herself, every time she started taking deep breaths and resolved to let it go, another fact of the day popped into her head and reminded her of her anger. Because, Mel could throw up her hands and say ‘fine’ and let it all go, except if her sister was capable of all the consideration and social nuance that having sex required, surely she could extend some of those skills to her sister. To Mel, who’d given up so much time and effort, who’d done it happily, without a second thought, because she loved her sister. Surely, if she was capable of having a boyfriend, she was capable of cancelling plans with Mel.
They always watched the fireworks together, always. Always. Every single year since they were born they have watched the fireworks together. Without fail. If Becca was changing that plan, she could’ve told Mel days ago, weeks ago, whenever the plans got made to watch them with Adam instead. It really wasn’t a lot to ask for. Sure, Mel wouldn’t have a complete meltdown and make it everyone else’s problem, but she wanted to. She wanted to stomp her feet and cry and lay down on the floor and she wanted to be held and comforted and told that it was all okay. No one ever did that for Mel. She was always strong, or brave, a tough kid, a good cookie, whatever. She took it on the chin and bit her tongue and shut up and did what had to be done.
The thoughts circled one another in her head, one swirling into the next until Mel was bristling again, like a scared cat. She was mad at Becca, she was mad at her mother, and her father, she was mad at herself, and at Langdon, who really hadn’t done anything wrong, but still. She was mad. She was mad at Dana, too, for telling her it wasn’t about her. Nothing was ever about her. She just wanted one person who prioritized her over Becca. For once. Becca had Adam, why can’t Mel have someone who cares more about Mel than anyone else.
“Dr. King ?” A voice said, from behind her. It took a moment to place him, the boy who’d spoken, the patient from earlier today.
“Liam ?” She asked. The criminal who’d knocked her over that morning.
“You remember me !” He said, cheerily, “Sorry,” He corrected himself, “For knocking you down.” He sounded sheepish, like he’d only just remembered how their interaction had ended. The apprehension she felt must of shown on her face, because he held both hands up, showing her they were empty,
“I’m not gonna hurt you, or anything.” He smiled, “I’m not crazy, I just saw you, here, and thought I should say something.” He took a step closer, and Mel took another step back.
“The cops were looking for you.” Mel said, voice slightly hushed.
“Yea, I know. I did something really stupid.” He said, hands at his side again. Mel really didn’t know what to make of this guy. He’d been nice enough, as a patient, and really, she hadn’t been hurt at all, but still, he’d been chased off by the cops.
“Is your leg okay ?” She asked. She wasn’t sure what else to do. This was not a social situation she came upon often. He didn’t seem dangerous, though. He’d robbed a liquor store, is what they’d said. Stupid, yes. Dangerous ? She wasn’t sure. He lifted his pant leg, showing the scabbed over skin, before speaking.
“It’s alright,” He shrugged, “Dr. King, Mel,” He said, taking another step closer. This time, Mel let him. He wasn’t threatening, his tone was light, jovial, he wasn’t erratic, and besides, he was still a good five feet away from her. He wasn’t close, by any means, “This might be stupid, or a bad idea, but can I give you my number ?” He asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a scrap of receipt paper.
“Your number ?” Mel asked. He had been hitting on her, earlier. Still, it was a stupid thing to do, when you’re wanted by the police. She watched him scribble the numbers down, and slowly approached her. She let him. He was standing right in front of her now.
“Yea, my number. You can text me and maybe I could take you out for Bobba, sometime,” He said, smiling. He was handsome, in a boyish sort of way. He was the kind of guy who would’ve flirted with Mel in high school, in an attempt to get her to give up her notes. Only ever nice when he wanted something from her. But he remembered her preferred drink. He’d asked her this morning what she liked to do, not what Becca liked, but what she liked. “Or you could turn me in, I guess. Up to you.” He shrugged again, holding the paper out between them. He was a criminal. He was stupid, or at least, he showed very poor judgment. But, he was also handsome, and nice. He asked Mel about herself and cared enough to come talk to her at this dimly lit, terrifying bus stop. He’d also approached her at this terrifying, dimly lit bus stop without making her fear for her life, so. So maybe she’d do something stupid, herself, for once. She took the scrap paper he offered.
“Bobba,” She repeated. She was thinking, trying to discern her next actions, what she should do, what she shouldn’t do. What she shouldn’t do but might do anyway.
“Yea, you said, earlier, you avoid caffeine,” He smiled at her. He smiled a lot. He was decently handsome. She could do this. She could do this. She had to do it now, because if she didn’t, she never, ever would. The bus was almost there, she could see it down the street, the brakes were on, it was going to stop.
“Do you… want to sleep with me ?” She asked. Much blunter than she wanted it to be, she’d wanted to treat this with some kind of finesse. Whatever.
“Oh ?” He said, surprised. Mel was surprised by it, too.
“That’s why you’re giving me your number, isn’t it ?” She held up the piece of paper he’d handed her, noticing the small heart he’d drawn by the phone number for the first time.
“Uh, that’s part of it, I guess,” He shrugged. The bus was very close now.
“You can come home with me on the bus, if you want.” She said, as it screeched to a stop in front of them. She was trying to play it cool, but she knew she was missing the mark, probably by a long shot. It’s hard to look cool when you’re bone tired and deeply awkward. He didn’t respond, but when the bus doors opened, she walked on, paid her fare, and didn’t look back. She wasn’t sure if she was hoping he’d follow or not. He was a criminal, a fugitive, he had pushed her over and ran from the police just this morning, and now she was inviting him to her place to sleep with her. She’d never done a hook up, before, she’d never asked someone if they wanted to sleep with her. She’d had sex, once, before. That had been a high school boyfriend, after her fathers death but before her mothers diagnosis. It was… fine. Neither had known what they were doing, nor were they particularly attracted to each other. They’d mostly done it to say that they had. When she sat down, she saw he had followed, and he sat beside her. So this was happening. She could still tell him to get lost, theoretically, but that seemed rude. He’d paid the fare. Not that it was expensive, but still.
“Are you okay ?” He asked, his hand moving as if he had wanted to reach over, take her hand, but stopping like he’d thought better of it. She nodded without speaking. “Mel.” He said. Just her name, quietly, so just the two of them could hear. He was trying to check in with her. Even he could tell this was out of character.
“I’m okay. It was a bad day at work,” She said, hoping he’d drop it.
“I’m sorry about that.” He said. She wasn’t sure if he meant he was sorry about his role in her having a bad day, or in a more general way.
“There were… many reasons today was not good.” She folded her hands tightly in her lap as she spoke, “But I’m fine.” She was going to do this. She’d said she would, and she was going to. She was nervous about it, but pushing outside her comfort zone every once in a while was good, right ? If Becca could do it, so could Mel.
“You know you don’t have to-“ He started to say, before Mel interrupted.
“I’m fine.” She said, definitive. “If you don’t want to, you’re free to say, but. Uh.” She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to say here, “I would like to see this through.” She finished, looking him in the eye. He was sort of handsome. She could do this.
“Okay.” He said, and this time he did take her hand, “Let me know if you change your mind.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles, again and again, repetitive, and feather light. It almost tickled, and his hands were warm and clammy. The gesture was sweet, but it made her skin crawl, just slightly.
The rest of the bus ride passed in silence, as Mel tried not to pull her hand out of his sweaty grasp. It wasn’t a long ride, but Mel’s heart was pounding. It was a stupid idea, she didn’t do things like this, she didn’t even necessarily enjoy sex, granted she barely had any experience with it, but still. She didn’t know anything about this guy, she didn’t even know if Liam was really his name, and if it was, that meant he was dumb enough to give his real name to the hospital staff he’d seen to evade the cops. This wasn’t how she wanted to spend her fourth of July, she wanted to be with Becca, her family, she wanted things to be how they were before. She was gonna do it anyway, though. She needed to put herself out there, she needed to find someone, anyone, because it was starting to feel like if she didn’t, she’d end up alone. She always told herself she wasn’t one to settle, that she didn’t need a romantic relationship to feel fulfilled. That was when she still had her sister. When she could still count on the fact that Becca was the most important person in her life, and that that feeling was mutual. Now she wasn’t so sure. She’d never been one to spiral before, she’d always been able to suss out the root cause for her feelings, rationalize them, and react logically. Feelings that didn’t serve her got filed away or discarded. Pointless feelings were not felt. Simple. Right now, she knew the root cause of the feelings. Her fear of abandonment, her deep seated need to belong, her desire for family, and the crippling otherness she’d felt as long as she could remember, all reared their ugly heads. But this was bigger than her usual feelings, this was Becca. Her sister, her twin, the one person in her life she’d been able to count on understanding her. This was big. So Mel couldn’t just file these feelings away, couldn’t throw them away or put them in a box or bury them, she needed to do something to feel like she was feeling them. She was making a stupid decision, mostly because it seemed like the kind of thing other people would do. Maybe it would help, open the doors to some kind of catharsis, or something.
When the bus pulled to the stop nearest Mel’s apartment, she was relieved for the excuse to pull her hand out of his. The cool air felt nice against her skin, slightly damp from his palms, She led the way, They walked down the street, around the corner, and Mel stopped at her stoop, steeling herself for what was about to happen.
“I’m gonna ask one more time, and then I’ll stop asking, I just want to be sure,” Liam said, wiping his hands against the denim of his jeans. Mel nodded, and waited for him to ask, “Are you sure you want to do this ?” He was looking at her so earnestly, and she knew he wouldn’t hold it against him if she changed her mind. He seemed to be a pretty decent guy, robbing liquor stores notwithstanding. She almost felt bad, sleeping with him, knowing she didn’t plan on anything serious coming out of this. Maybe it would, maybe the sex would be amazing and Mel would feel some spark of connection to reignite her belief in true love. Maybe she’d text him and he’d keep texting her and she’d feel guilty enough to keep going out with him. Maybe they’d date until he realized the demands of working in the ER. It was unclear, what was going to come of this. It was unclear what she hoped to gain. She nodded anyway.
“I am,” She began, hoping she’d find the right words to say to assuage his worries, “It’s not something I’m used to doing, really. I might be a little uncomfortable, especially because I don’t like doing things that I'm not used to doing, but… I want to do this,” He nodded along as she spoke, “Even if it makes me uncomfortable.” Her skin was crawling at the eye contact he was making, that she felt she had no choice but to hold. She was worried that if she averted her eyes now, he may feel she wasn’t being genuine. It felt like minutes, hours even, that he held her eyes, standing outside her apartment in silence, before he smiled. She took that as a sign that he was ready to proceed, walked up the steps of her small porch, and opened the door. It screeched against the floor, as it always did, and she took her shoes off at the door, as she always did. Liam followed suit, arranging his own shoes neatly next to Mel’s. He wore mismatched socks, that seemed like they were maybe from the same pack, just different designs. Mel hoped she could like him, before she remembered he was wanted by the police. So then she probably wouldn’t end up dating him, long term. She could only imagine her co-workers' reactions to finding out she was dating the so-called ‘asshole perp’ who’d nearly given her a concussion. She could see the sidelong glances and pitying looks Dana would give her already. Thankfully, they’d never have to know. Mel was smart enough to keep her private life private, and not get a UTI that results in the need for medical treatment, unlike some people. With the door closed behind them, it started to sink in. He was standing in her living room. She’d asked him here for sex. In the dim light, just what the street lights through in through the slotted blinds her landlord had installed before she moved in, his hair looked darker, his eyes a little bluer. He was handsome. She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, tightly, once, twice, and then she moved.
As if it was karma for knocking her off her stool that morning, Mel was on him so quick he almost fell over. She was acting rashly, as if by impulse. Any onlooker would think it was instinct, driving her. Onlookers wouldn’t know the immense thought that had gone into her faux spur of the moment decisions. She moved quickly because she knew she lacked the grace or sophistication for any sort of seduction. This wasn’t something she wanted to take her time in. She was trying to get it over with. At least the awkward beginning part. His hands came to rest on her waist, and it tickled unpleasantly as he squeezed. She felt her teeth knock into his, and felt that deep well of shame open up between her ribs. She was bad at this. She was starting off terribly, and she should pull back, let him take the lead, she just couldn’t, though. Everything felt out of her control, she wanted to be in control here. She advanced on him, hands against his chest, pushing him backwards, until his knees hit her couch and he sat. She straddled him, and looked down, unsure how to read the expression on his face. Bemused, was probably the best adjective to describe it. She was obviously not acting how he’d expected. He laughed, just a little, to himself, and Mel wanted to recoil from him. She wanted to slam on the brakes, kick him out, curl up in bed and cry, pretend none of this had ever happened. She wasn’t going to, though. She was putting herself out there. It was that or die alone.
“I am,” She started, chest heaving with heavy breaths, “Not very good at this,” The hand on her waist tightened and relaxed, squeezing her uncomfortably, “I need you to just,” She bit her lip, trying to decide what it was she needed, “I need you to just let me figure this out,” She put both hands on his shoulders, looking down at him seriously. He smiled, like she’d said something funny.
“You do whatever you need to do,” He said, nodding, enthusiastic. Mel’s stomach churned, just slightly. It felt like he was making fun of her, like there was some joke she’d missed. She kissed him, to ignore the pit growing in her stomach. It was an odd feeling, slightly alien, although not altogether unpleasant. She pressed her lips to his, and followed his lead when he opened his mouth. Really, it was kind of gross. She pulled away, looking at him once again. He laughed, and she must have made a face at it, because then he laughed even harder.
“I’m sorry,” He said, through his giggles, “I just didn’t think this would happen,” She felt sick. Like really sick, like she might throw up, right here on top of him. He was making fun of her. It was all a joke, like those boys in high school who’d asked her to the homecoming dance in her freshman year. He reached up, putting his warm hand against her cheek, in a gesture that must’ve been affectionate, “I’m not laughing at you,” He said, voice soft and gentle and genuine.
“Oh ?” She said. He was being nice.
“You seemed uninterested, this morning. Distracted.” He said, warm palm still pressed against her cheek. She leaned into it.
“I was distracted.” She admitted. She’d been very annoyed, actually, with his chattering. It wasn’t until after Liam knocked her over, and Langdon had insisted on checking up on her, that she felt better. Even just for a little. She was mad at Langdon. Not that he did anything wrong. She was mad at everyone.
“Are you still distracted ?” He asked, pressing his other hand into her arm. He was warm, very warm. He held eye contact in a way that made her squirm, and she kind of hated that she was doing this. She kind of hated that he was a criminal, and that nothing good was going to come of him. She kind of hated that she couldn’t keep him. She shook her head, his palm following the movement.
“No,” She said, barely above a whisper, “I’m not distracted anymore.” It was a lie, and she knew he could tell. But he didn’t call her on it. She appreciated that. He leaned in and kissed her again, chaste, closed mouth, almost sort of close to pleasant.
“Okay.” Mel said, standing up, and swiftly pulling off her scrub pants. She stood in front of him, arms crossed, waiting for him to follow suit. His eyes trailed over her legs, and she suppressed the urge to kick him. She didn’t like the slow line his eyes drew up and down over her body, she didn’t want him to look at her. When his eyes finally made their way back up to hers, he looked confused, and then, she saw him understand. He stood up and followed suit. They stood in front of each other, in their underwear, and his erection was hard to ignore. She looked instead up, at his face. He was tall enough and close enough she had to tilt her head back to do so, and he looked down on her. She felt a blush starting to creep into her face. She tenderly put her hands on his chest, the plain white fabric of his tank top slightly damp under her hands.
“Do you want to do it here, or in your bed ?” He asked. She hadn’t made her bed this morning, too anxious about the impending deposition to bother, not that he’d judge her. He was a criminal after all, he probably wouldn’t care that her bed was unmade.
“Uh…” She wasn’t sure. The first, and only time, she’d had sex, had been in the back of her boyfriend's car. It had been overall uncomfortable. “Which…” She had wanted to be in control of this, but she could defer to someone with more experience, if she had to. “Which do you prefer ?” She asked.
“There’s more options in a bed, it’ll be more comfortable.” He said. She nodded. He was going to see her messy unmade bed, then. She stood, leading him down the hall and into her room. She was going to do this. She wouldn’t back down, no matter how uncomfortable she felt. She had to do this, she needed to be able to. He’d been nothing but sweet, and kind, and it didn’t have to mean anything. It was casual. She could do casual. She steeled herself, and opened the door.