Chapter Text
Melissa King
Mel knew life wasn’t fair. It was especially unfair for someone like her, someone whose brain worked differently, who saw the world differently, and who was always a little out of step with everyone else. Weird. Unfit. Too much. Not enough. She had heard every version of it, even when no one said it out loud.
Her father died of a hemorrhagic stroke after she had only just forgiven him for leaving her, Becca, and their mom. By then, she had finally started learning who he was. Two years later, her mother died of malignant pheochromocytoma, a rare disease, leaving behind the kindest person Mel had ever known.
Her mother had raised her children to be gentle in a world that never was.
And after all that, after trying so hard to be there for her twin sister, Mel had to face the possibility that she might end up alone. Becca had found her person easily. Mel, meanwhile, had caught feelings for her mentor—who was, unfortunately, very married.
“Of course,” she had muttered when she heard the news that the one person who seemed genuinely happy to work with her would be gone.
She had heard the rumors. She had ignored them. Mel always wanted to believe the best in people. That had never exactly worked in her favor.
So she kept trying.
For ten months, she tried to build something real with someone, anyone. Instead of finding a friend, she found a hospital lawyer and a deposition.
And then Fourth of July came around, bringing Dr. Langdon back to the Pitt and her own life closer to collapsing.
Because losing her job suddenly felt more important than any crush she had ever had.
That same day, everything got worse.
Becca told her she had her own person. Mel would have preferred the less PG-13 version, since what her sister really meant was that she had someone she had “lots of sex with,” and apparently had forgotten to mention it.
Mel wanted nothing more than to help her sister, help her patients, and prove that all the love she gave would matter. But by the end of the day, she learned something she didn’t want to know: loving people with all your heart didn’t mean they would stay.
The patient’s parents wanted to sue her after she and Ellis saved their son. Becca’s confession hit like a second blow. And when the fireworks started, Mel stood beside the person who mattered most and told herself the truth she was least willing to accept.
People were like fireworks.
Beautiful for a moment.
Gone before you were ready.
And not everything was worth fighting for.
.
Frank Langdon
“Just tell Robby you’re not going to screw up again.”
Frank snapped his head toward Abby. She was watching him from across the table, her expression sharp enough to cut through him.
“Abby…” he said, glancing at their children.
Penny was too young to understand the tension between them, too busy with her iPad to notice more than the raised voices. Tanner, on the other hand, was five and smart enough to know something was wrong. He knew the words they were trying not to say in front of him.
“What?” Abby scoffed. “Now I’m the bad influence for our children?”
“I’m not saying that.” Frank dragged in a breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Please, not now. And yes, I plan to talk to him. Terry told me to—”
“Seems like you listen to Terry more than me,” she said coldly.
“Abby… he’s my sponsor. But I do listen to you.”
The room went silent.
Tanner looked from one parent to the other, uncertain. Frank caught his eyes and forced his voice to soften.
“Buddy, finish your vegetables, okay?”
Tanner nodded and took a slow bite of his baby carrots.
That night, Frank did everything he always did. He tucked the kids into bed, read them a bedtime story, walked their dog, Casper, took a shower, and came back to find Abby already asleep.
He wanted to talk to her.
Every time he tried, she said later. Or she picked the wrong moment to start another fight, usually in front of the kids. And whenever he tried to shut it down, she only got angrier. So eventually, they stopped talking altogether.
On the Fourth of July, HR was asking for extra hands. Robby was leaving, and the new attending, Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi, wanted the department prepared.
It was one of the busiest holidays the Pitt ever saw every year.
Frank stared at his phone, wondering if he should take the shift.
He had just fought with Abby again. She wasn’t happy that he had even taken a minute to think about spending the holiday at her parents’ house. He and Abby were supposed to meet her brother, who clearly hated him. Frank had wanted something smaller, quieter — just the four of them, maybe with Linda and Matt next door.
Instead, Abby said he never tried hard enough with her family.
Then came the offer from work, and it was tempting.
When Abby caught him looking at the message, she thought he was texting someone else. He told her it was work, but the damage was already done. Then she told him, sarcastically, that he should go be with the people he loved.
That one hurt.
So he went back to work.
His plan was simple: win Robby back, prove he was still trustworthy, and maybe show Abby he could still be dependable somewhere. Maybe then she would stop tearing him apart at home.
But he was wrong.
Every minute he spent at the Pitt, Robby made sure Frank knew exactly how little faith he had left. He didn’t trust him with patients. He doubted his judgment. He barely looked at him, and when he did, it felt like Frank had already failed.
For the first time in his life, Frank felt small.
He used to walk through life like nothing could touch him. He didn’t care what people thought, as long as he kept saving lives and doing his job well. But now it was different.
Now everything seemed to matter.
And then there was Melissa King.
He had known ten months ago that she was special. He still knew it now. She noticed things other people missed. She was brilliant, and patient, and somehow still carried this bright, stubborn hope with her.
Frank saw himself in her sometimes. She cared about patients. She cared about her family. She carried responsibility the way he did.
But unlike him, she still had warmth.
That day, she seemed off. Sad. Distracted. Jessie noticed him staring and told him about her deposition. Frank felt bad immediately. He had just treated her for a head injury from some asshole punk, and all he wanted was to comfort her.
Then he found out Becca was there too.
Her twin sister had some mild medical issue, but the cause could turn into something far more serious for Mel if it wasn’t handled right. Frank could feel himself spiraling the second he understood what it meant for her.
All day, he wanted to say something to Mel. He wasn’t sure if she was still a student, a friend, or something in between. He wasn’t even sure what right he had to speak at all.
So instead of giving advice, he stayed close. He listened. He let her talk. He tried to be there.
And somehow, she did more for him than he did for her.
By the end of the day, Frank had to admit it: Mel got him through it.
He looked for her later, wanting to thank her, wanting to apologize, wanting to tell her about the best moment of his night — the successful cervical reduction, the patient safe, the fear finally gone.
He found her watching the fireworks.
Frank stared at her for a moment, trying to read her, trying to find the right words this time.
Instead, he promised to teach her more.
It was the first time all day he felt something like hope.
Maybe someone still believed in him.
And as he stood there watching her watch the fireworks, he realized something else too.
Maybe the right people do stay.
Maybe some things are worth fighting for.