okay but pro baseball player frank langdon gets injured (again) during a game and is treated by new (and very excited to be here!) team doctor mel king
frank wasn’t there when she was introduced to the team because he was at some bullshit press thing — he knows this because he would have definitely remembered had he met her prior to this moment (when he’s in pain and angry at himself for being in pain, for sliding into home when he knew the catcher was crowding the plate) and his thoughts feel like they're moving through jell-o but the ones that seem to cut through it all are woah and pretty. she tells him her name ("i'm dr. mel king but you can call me mel") and asks for his in return — he will realize later that mel was checking for cognitive alertness, but in the moment he is just so stoked the pretty doctor wants to know his name that he doesn't mind that her next question ("can you tell me what day it is?") stumps him. "uhhhh, game 3 at arizona. i don't know what day it is, but we're down by 2." and then she laughs a little and pats his arm and says "well, not anymore, actually. now we're down by 1 — thanks to you." and frank thinks he'd happily take another probable concussion if he could get her to laugh like that again.
he does indeed have a concussion, mel later informs him after a proper examination, but a minor one. and in more obvious news, he also has a dislocated shoulder (frank vaguely remembers hearing the distinct "pop" that he is all too familiar with) and thank god thank god it's not his pitching arm but he'll be put on the 15-day injured list (so he can be kept on the roster), but it'll likely be closer to 60 days, with possibility of early activation depending on how his healing goes. he's indignant, at first, not wanting to argue with mel and not wanting to be an asshole, but he's dislocated this same shoulder before and he was back on the field in 2 weeks. frank just met mel, but even he can tell that she's upset and maybe even a bit angry at this piece of information. she calmly informs him that won't be happening now, under her care. that she understands his urgency to get back to playing but a repeat injury requires patience and time and work and are the next 2 months of games really worth the rest of his career if he doesn't take this seriously? and she's so earnest and concerned and competent and, yeah, frank would do just about anything she tells him to.
(he doesn’t tell her this, but when he's been injured in the past he’s always rushed the process, never fully committed to true healing because he just wanted to go go go, get back on the field, back to being useful, back to winning. he’d half-ass stretching regimens or push himself too hard during practice because who cares if he was in pain if it meant he got to play, got to contribute. frank doesn't tell her this because he thinks it would disappoint her, and something in his gut tells him he never, ever wants to do that.)
so this time is different. under her care, he takes his recovery seriously. he doesn't miss a single appointment with her (because he's very committed to his healing. obviously. not for any other reason.) and endures the grueling but rewarding physical therapy sessions and even religiously follows the yoga routine she recommends from her favorite instructor on youtube. when he informs her that he'd tried it out and yeah, it had actually been really relaxing and helpful, her face lights up — this instant, unbridled joy — and his stomach drops. like he's at the very top of the tallest crest of a rollercoaster, when he suddenly realizes where he is, and where he's going, and how there is absolutely no going back.
the one thing he has trouble with is the walking. he's very limited in how he can work out so mel suggests walks for the sake of his fitness, sure, but mostly for his mental health and so that he doesn't go stir crazy and frank understands all that but walking is just so boring and his teammates have actual work to do so he can't ask them to join him. and he knows he's actively whining but mel has this slightly fond if not exasperated look on her face so he thinks it's okay. he's about to double down and maybe crack a joke that he might have to explain but she'll hopefully laugh at eventually when she suggests she join him instead, if he thinks it will help. mel's back is to him when she says this so she thankfully can't see the dumbstruck look on frank's face (he hadn't even considered this possibility!! this is something he can have??) but she can definitely hear him tripping over his words in his eagerness to agree and he's free right now? actually? if she is? she is, in fact, not free right now because she's a doctor and has other players to attend to but how does 11:30 sound?
and so that day, and mostly every day after, they walk laps around the stadium and mel tells frank about becca and growing up here in san francisco and the ceramics class she's been taking. how med school and residency were the hardest things she's ever done but she truly loves what she does. can't believe she's the team physician for the team she grew up loving with her dad — watching the games on tv while doing her homework and the special treat of seeing games in person — in the cheap bleacher seats, eating garlic fries, getting pink from the sun, and never wanting the day to end. slowly, carefully, like if she picks just the right words they'll hurt less, she tells frank about losing her dad. and then her mom. and then it being her and becca against the world at the ripe age of 20. at this, frank feels a devastation and helplessness he hasn't felt in a long, long time and he can't help but grab mel's hand. to anchor her or him, he's not sure, and he has the delayed reaction of wondering if it's okay that he did it at all before mel is interlacing their fingers and smiling sadly up at him.
in turn, frank tells mel about growing up in pittsburgh, his slight devastation when he wasn't drafted to the pirates, but how he's made a real home for himself here on the west coast. how it's cliche but the team really is like a family, how they have monthly-ish movie nights that they take turns hosting — most often at head coach robby's place because he has the biggest tv — how he's so miraculously lucky and deeply grateful that he gets to do this thing he loves with people that value him. that he gets to be part of something bigger than himself. mel knew about his addiction already from his medical records, but he tells her he's been sober for a long time and how that era in his life almost feels like another life entirely, but that he'll always carry it with him. how he'll always be an addict but now that fact doesn't weigh so heavy on him anymore. he glances at her after he says this and finds her already looking at him. she has this look on her face that he can't quite pin down — which isn't totally surprising, mel is so constantly expressive — but frank thought he'd gotten pretty good at learning the language, being able to read her. she's quiet for another moment, that same look on her face, before she tells him she's proud of him. it kind of bowls him over because he can tell she really, really means it. he asks to hug her because he simply has to and he marvels at the feeling of her in his arms for the first time. marvels at being a person mel king can be proud of.
32 days into his injury rehabilitation, the team is giving out a bobblehead of frank as a freebie to the first 20,000 fans in attendance at that night's game. the team's social media manager, victoria, passes out a few of them before practice to get some photos and videos for their accounts and frank thinks his little mini-me came out pretty good, all things considered (the bobblehead they'd made of mateo a couple months back had done him absolutely no justice and had become a bit of a meme among the fans) but frank's bobblehead looked pretty much like him — they'd even gotten his chin dimple right. mel came into the dugout to remind whitaker of their later appointment and frank wiggles the figurine to make its head bob, and bobs his own head to match, just to see if it'll make her laugh, and then basks in glory when it does. she takes it from him, and after scrutinizing it for a few seconds, absentmindedly says that they didn't get his eyes the right shade of blue before handing it back to him and walking away. he stares after her, this look of complete devastation on his face, and it's a miracle the team only makes fun of him for it for a week.
at the very beginning of their PT sessions, frank had requested that mel play music to distract from the abject misery that is physical therapy. at first, it was clearly just a top 40 pop playlist curated by spotify so frank figured mel didn't care much for music. but then one day, a few weeks in, "savage" by megan thee stallion came on and mel lit up a bit, briefly distracted, and sang the lyrics to the chorus under her breath in between giving him instructions. he asks about it, because he can't not, and she somewhat shyly admits that "savage" had become something of a personal anthem for her. that she recites the chorus to herself in the morning while she gets ready, and will repeat it as needed if she's having a tough day. he learns that she has a near encyclopedic knowledge of west coast hip hop and that she cried when doechii won the grammy for best rap album and that she has a collection of tupac cassettes she inherited from her dad. she's talking the fastest he's ever seen her talk before, excited and gesticulating animatedly, when she abruptly stops, face carefully blank and hands clasped tightly in front of her. "sorry i- that was a lot. and very off topic, let's get back to work." and frank hates that she would think for a second that he doesn't want to listen to absolutely anything she had to say, so he ducks his head to catch her eye and says, admittedly, he knows nothing about any of this but would she mind making him a playlist? he wants to learn, and oh, could she explain the beef between kendrick and drake, he never quite understood it. and then she's off again, shoulders relaxed and eyes dancing and frank — well, frank focuses very hard on not kissing her.
they hang out for the first time outside of work because mel simply cannot stand the indignity of frank never having been to the california academy of sciences. ("you've lived here 5 years and you've never been there or the de young?? what do you do on your days off?" "uhhhhh watch the pirates game?"). it's one of mel and becca's favorite places in the world and so they go one saturday when there's no game happening and their time is their own and frank is so nervous to meet becca that he changes his outfit 3 times before settling on jeans and a sweater that an ex once told him brought out the color of his eyes. frank knew he'd like becca — within 10 minutes of being in the car with her he learns she's every bit as smart and funny and mischievous as mel made her out to be — the real question was if she'd like him. and it mattered to him, deeply, that she like him because becca was mel's favorite person, her most important person, and if frank was ever going to deserve a real place in mel's life, then becca's approval was an important first step. and honestly, for most of the day he really couldn't tell. they went through every exhibit (except the rainforest dome because the humidity was too much sensory-wise for the king sisters and the free-roaming butterflies freak becca out) and becca only really spoke to him to a) tell him a fact about whatever they were looking at or b) tease him for something she thought was funny about him. case in point: they're in the aquarium section and becca points to a particularly ugly fish with kind of off-putting blue eyes and says "frank, what are you doing in there?" and it startles a laugh out of frank so loud that the 5 year old next to them shushes him. frank finally gets his answer when they stop in the academy's cafe for a late lunch and he expresses remorse over choosing chocolate cake over carrot cake for his dessert. becca, who'd gone with a chocolate chip cookie, tells him very diplomatically that next time he would get chocolate and she would get carrot and they'd share. frank grins, thinks nexttimenexttimenexttime, and finishes his cake.
(all in all, it's a great day. a best day. he spends a lot of it in disbelief that he gets to spend this much time with mel, hearing her insights during the penguin feeding and watching her awed expression during the planetarium show and he wants, so intensely and desperately, for this to be his life. he watches mel's face kaleidoscope between joy and wonder and curiosity as they travel through space, and he knows that he's in love with her. knows that he's a better person because of it.)
mel announces, 52 days into frank's injury rehabilitation, that he's cleared to play and is being activated from the injured list — a whole 8 days early. she's practically glowing delivering the news (frank now recognizes the look of pride on her face) and he hugs her, picking her up a little bit off the ground and burying his face in her shoulder, and briefly wonders if life could get any better than this.
frank langdon's walk-up song since the dawn of time (his mlb debut) has been "the man" by the killers. (very douchey, even he can admit that, but the bravado wasn't unearned — he's led the league in strikeouts 3 years in a row.) the song has never changed and it's become known as his song, the killers even talked about him in an interview once and he almost passed out. but as frank walks out to home plate for his first at-bat since his injury, the home crowd's thunderous applause ringing in his ears, the song that plays over the stadium speakers isn't "the man" — it's "savage." (it takes a second to register and then everyone — the announcers, the fans, frank's teammates — is confused. mel, watching from the dugout, is charmed.)
the getting together of it all is inevitable. it happens, without preamble, on a random day in august when mel's car is in the shop and frank insists on giving her a ride home because yes, she could take muni, but then he wouldn't get to hear her professional opinion on the new medical drama they'd both been watching and oh wait did she want to pick up dim sum on the way too? frank thinks he must have saved someone important in a past life because there's actually street parking right in front of mel's apartment, and they can't waste that good luck, so instead of going up, they sit there and eat their dumplings in the car with mel's playlist playing softly under their conversation. and frank is telling mel that if her car is still in the shop tomorrow, he can tag along and help take becca to her appointment (if that's okay with her) and they could even go to that one japanese bakery becca loves, when mel stops him with a hand on his arm and asks, quietly, if she can kiss him. frank reaches out for her, his body knowing what he wants before his brain even fully registers that ridiculous question, and frank learns how soft the skin of mel's face is. how she makes this little sound when he softly tugs on the hair at the nape of her neck. how she's just as impatient as him, their rhythm a little clunky, but frank isn't worried because they've got so much time to practice. forever, even.
that year, frank's team makes it pretty far into the playoffs but gets knocked out before they have a chance at the world series.
the next year, though — they win. game 7, at home, frank pitches the best game of his fucking life. he gets the last strike they need and then it's chaos, his teammates (his family) hugging and crying and laughing and then he's looking for her (he's always looking for her) and mel runs onto the field and frank picks her up, spins her around, kisses her. she's crying and tells him she's proud of him and mel king being proud of him is never going to get old and then he thinks about the ring he just won, thinks about the ring he bought 6 months ago that's been hiding in his sock drawer, and he just can't believe he gets to have this.
