Or: Mel cries and Frank comforts her
Or: how's about i write the kingdon scenes for season 3, everyone say thank you sarah
cw: child death, medical gore, emotional infidelity
side note: never wrote fic before but have written fiction. i've got a whole bunch of drama that i think i could add to the rest of the shift if y'all are interested <3
Part 1/4 Pt 2 (x) pt 3 (x) pt 4(x)
wc: 2200
read on ao3 (here)
"Time of death 12:58 pm."
Frank thought he'd eventually get used to when the parents cried. That maybe someday he'd be able to build up that mythical wall Robby did, that maybe he'd be able to break up his life into little boxes. Home. Work. Life. But he was an R4 (and a half, he liked to joke to himself) and it still killed him whenever a parent lost their child.
The nurses moved to make the parents comfortable. Removing blood pressure cuffs, machines and tubes. Cover the mangled body of this child. She was ten. Curly red hair blending with the dried blood from her ears. Battles sign bruises under her jaw and around her eyes hiding freckles on her cheeks.
It was a freak car accident. She'd managed to get unbuckled to sneak a granola bar from the console in the front seat when their car got hit by a truck skidding on black ice. Fifteen car pile up with them in the middle. Mom and little brother walked away with bad whiplash.
Fuck. It wasn't fair.
Mom's animal screams shot a shiver down his spine. Dad was silent, clinging to the covers, face buried while his shoulders shook.
His eyes found Mel. She was still, at least to most people's eyes. He saw the way her hand twisted around the back of her neck, her elbows pinned to her chest, trying to compress herself as small as possible. He was at her side in a moment, stepping between her and the family.
"Take a second," he said, voice low. "I'll be out there. I'll come find you."
She nodded, not meeting his eyes. She moved towards the door out of the trauma room.
He gently grabbed her elbow. "Get your coat," he added. "It's freezing."
She didn't respond. His hand loosened from her arm and she walked away, shoulders hunched.
Frank turned and found himself face to face with Robby. The sabbatical didn't seem to do much to restore his vigor. He came back different, tired. But maybe more at peace.
Robby's eyes met his. His stomach dropped as he anticipated his next words. Talking to the parents. That poor kid's brother in the family room. Robby knew peds patients were hard for him, especially peds traumas. The last time they worked together he was determined to ride his ass all shift. He wondered if Robby would be so cruel to him.
Robby's hand met Frank's shoulder. "Take a breather," he said. "I'll go with Kiara to talk to the kid." His voice was strained and gravelly.
Frank nodded. He tried to not let out too loud of a sigh of relief as he excused himself and walked quickly to the restroom. Thankfully empty, the motion sensor lights flickered on as he entered and he locked the door behind him.
His legs went out under him as he slid to the floor. He knew how nasty bathroom floors were, especially in the hospital, but right now he didn't care. He focused on his breathing. Square breaths.
In. Hold. Out. Hold.
Abby had just about enough of him. She, Penny and Tanner were spending the long weekend with her sister and her kids in Florida. Either Disney or Universal, he couldn't get a straight answer out of her. She probably wouldn't answer his texts or calls if he tried to reach out. And besides, he wasn't sure if she'd even let him talk to them if she did answer. A tearful phone call from Daddy on the verge of a nervous breakdown versus a full day in Orlando. He knew which one she should choose.
He dug the palms of his hands into his eye sockets until he saw stars. That kid. Her body mangled. Free fluid and broken bones. No surgeon in the world with a million hours would be able to put her back together. He knew that. He knew that. But fuck. Why. It hurt just as much every time.
Breathe, Frank.
In. Hold. Out. Hold.
He dropped his hands, his eyes still closed. He sniffed. The ghost of tears and the lump in his throat cleared. He was fine. Fine. Fine.
He stood carefully without touching the floor and stood at the sink. He washed his hands, faucet turned all the way to cold and splashed his face. Droplets hit his undershirt but he didn't care. He looked up into the mirror, meeting his own eyes.
He looked exhausted. He was exhausted.
He sighed. Mel.
He dried his face with the rough paper towel and made his way out past the trauma room to the ambulance bay.
The wind hit his face, icy cold, searing into him like a blade. Mel wasn't in their usual spot, the accessibility ramp from the parking garage, but he made his way there anyway. The deicing salt crunched under his feet, the wail of traffic nearby. It threatened to snow again that evening but so far, the roads were still clear.
He heard her sniffle from beyond where he could see. He rounded the corner of the stairwell and saw her, shivering in her oversized puffy jacket, zipper all the way to her chin. She held her glasses in one hand while trying to dry her eyes with her free hand, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Her head turned to face him about the same time he saw her. Her face was splotchy from the cold and from crying; her nose, her cheeks, the little circles under her eyes. He'd never tell her, and he'd deny it until his dying day, but something about her being so vulnerable endeared her to him. Her laugh, the way her voice got choppy when she was mad, even, as weird as it sounded, the way she cried. She felt everything with one-hundred percent of her heart.
Frank unfolded his arms, slightly bent as he approached her. Inviting. She met him half way, her cheek slamming into his chest as a shuddering sob broke out of her.
Her arms wrapped around his middle as his wrapped his around her shoulders. His hand rested on the back of her head, the slope at the nape of her neck where her braid began. He felt her fingers dig into his scrubs as her shoulders shook. Ragged, uneven breaths.
“Shhh,” he whispered, holding her tight. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
He learned a few months ago, not long after his first day back, how she’d been Becca’s primary caregiver for years. How she was orphaned when she was barely an adult; she lost her father when she was young, then her mother when she was still in high school. Her sister was her only living family.
The way he learned it was very unceremonious. A throw away line in a conversation when they snuck away to grab a sparkling water from the lounge during a lull one of the evenings they worked swing together. She made some sort of comment about holidays and visiting family. How being an orphan meant fewer presents to have to forget to buy.
“Wait, wait,” he said, stopping her as she stooped to grab a water from the bottom shelf.
She looked up at him, confused. “What?”
“Both your parents are gone?” he asked.
She shrugged, giving a tight smile that didn’t meet her eyes while she avoided his, standing as she shuffled the cold can from one hand to the other. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s…it’s fine,” she said quickly, clearly uncomfortable from the attention, closing the fridge door.
“Mel, I’m so sorry,” he said.
She swallowed and shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “It was a long time ago.”
He felt his heart break in his chest. Not that anyone deserved to be an orphan, but of anyone, Melissa King was the last person on earth he figured deserved that curse.
“I guess that explains why you and your sister are so close,” he said, voice quiet.
She met his eyes finally. “Can we not talk about it?” she said, voice thin. “I’m sorry it’s just—”
“No, no,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t,” she said, giving him a small smile before taking a quick breath and walking back out to the main ER, leaving him dumbstruck in the break room.
Frank sighed, eyes closing, holding Mel here in the parking structure in the middle of November. She was so strong, he marveled. The strongest woman he’d ever met, and yet so tender and gentle. It was so unfair that she had nobody. She had Becca, sure, but as much as she loved her sister, she couldn’t turn to her for emotional support. Not with this job. She wasn’t the shoulder to cry on.
He knew she and Santos were friends, and even barring her being...not his biggest fan, per se, she wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy to anyone, even Whitaker. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person he imagined Mel would go to at the end of a long day for reassurance and comfort.
He’d have no idea how to even begin to explain this to Abby. If she were to materialize in front of them and demand some sort of explanation he’d be completely at a loss. There was no good explanation, other than in some weird way they both needed each other. Mel needed a rock. He needed to be needed.
Somehow they found each other.
He turned his face towards hers, his mouth touching the hair on her head.
It would be so easy to kiss her.
He felt his ring slip off his finger before the bright ping of it hitting the ground hit his ears. He jolted in the direction of the sound, watching it roll away into a pile of leaves in the corner of the stairwell, a pocket of refuse undisturbed by the wind.
His ring seemed to get looser and looser every day, but it never slipped off before. He knew the body changed as you got older. He wondered if sobriety had something to do with it, too. Not drinking, eating cleaner, taking care of himself. Even with all those changes, all those ways of trying to make himself a better person, a better man, Abby still outgrew him.
Mel sniffed behind him. He turned and met her eyes, still red with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her face was crumpled as she tried to hold back a sob and he could see a faint trickle of clear snot from her nose that she furiously tried to wipe away with her sleeve. Her hair was a mess. Strands from her normally prim and proper braid came loose, wild and covering her face.
She was a mess.
His heart broke again, realizing where he’d left her. How he’d left her.
Everyone left her, he thought. He knew better.
He rushed to her, arms embracing her tightly to his chest, pressing his cheek to the stop of her head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, swaying her gently. “I’m sorry. I won’t leave. I’m sorry.”
A sob broke out of her chest, shuddering through him. He stroked her hair, murmuring to her, over and over again.
“I’m sorry, I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m here.”
Jesse, who was there for a partial shift walked up the handicap ramp, making his way to the first floor of the parking garage, bundled up in his winter clothes. He hoped for a moment that he wouldn’t turn his head to see them, but without fail, their eyes met, Jesse's gaze traveled down to Mel. His eyes widened, worried, before their gaze met again.
He shook his head. He had it under control. It was fine.
He gave a sympathetic smile-grimace and thumbs up before he disappeared into the parking garage.
Frank stayed with Mel as long as she needed. Until the tears slowed. Until she caught her breath. Until she dried her face and took some deep steadying breaths before collecting herself.
“I’ll meet you in the lounge,” he said. “To debrief with Robby.”
She nodded, fingers nervously trying to smooth the hair back into her braid.
“Here,” he said, turning her gently and loosening her braid.
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice slightly panicked.
“I’ve done a braid or two in my time,” he said. “I do have a daughter.”
She gave him a small smile before turning back around. He combed his fingers through her hair, still damp in the bends of the waves from when she braided it this morning. He tied it off with her hair tie and she ran her fingers down the length of it.
“Not bad,” she said giving him a small smile. “Pretty good for a pirate, Captain Scurvy.”
He gave her a half-salute. “Anything for you, m’lady.”
She giggled before turning and heading back into the ED.
Frank took a step forward before he stopped, remembering. He backtracked and stooped down into the corner of the stairwell, brushing the dirt off his wedding ring. He held it in the palm of his hand, cold and heavy, considering it for a moment. He turned it over in his hand once before placing it in the front pocket of his scrubs.
He dusted his hands on his pant legs before he followed Mel back inside, shivering as a cold blast of air cut through him like a knife.
Author’s note: I have no medical knowledge. So bear with me lol. My writing style is a bit off on this one just because I’m getting the hang of writing for different characters then I’m used too. So again please bear with me. I had a direction and then I got lost. So here’s this lol.
Mel thought today it was best if she’d ignored him. She wasn’t being rude, she was just being professional. They worked together, their patients matter more than whatever arrangement they’d gotten themselves into.
The scent of antiseptic filled her nose, the usual loud sounds of the hospital drowned out by the closed doors. She was thankful for it, it usually overwhelmed her. She smoothed her sweaty palm against her pants.
“Mel? Hello? Are we getting the order in or not?” Santos deadpan voice cuts Mel from her thoughts.
Mel blinks, “What?”
“The order I asked to put in. Are we doing it or not?”
Mel was working on a case with Santos, one not necessarily against their will. But definitely they weren’t happy to be paired together. Mel didn’t dislike her. She just wasn’t a big fan of people who weren’t sensitive to others. Or consider their feelings, that’s what Santos aura gave to Mel anyway.
Aura, she was beginning to sound like Becca more and more. Even if it was in her own head. Recently Becca’s boyfriend Adam was getting her sister into aura readings and horoscopes. She was very confused by the whole thing but she was trusting her sister. Letting her live her own life. The way she was trying to live hers.
“Mel?”
“Right, sorry, yes of course. Put in the ord—”
The door slams open, Mel widens her eyes when she sees Langdon walking towards them. His mouth open slightly, his own eyes wide. Desperation seemed to almost coat his expression, her stomach churned, the anxiety of knowing why he’s here.
“Actually, don’t worry about that. I’ll do it.”
Mel practically taking over the computer, Santos just mumbles an “okay?” Before ultimately crossing the room, clearly not wanting to be near Langdon.
“Mel?” Langdon says.
“Busy.” Mel says, her eyes locked on the computer, retyping the words over and over. Unable to spell it correctly.
“I know, but I just—”
The other doctors surround the patient, trying to inspect what their next steps are. Santos stand with them, her eyes locks with Mel’s. Before Mel quickly looks away.
Is it that obvious? She can only wonder what everyone already thinks.
“Mel, please. It’s important.”
“The patient is important. I can’t be distracted.”
Langdon sighs, he leans closer to her, cutting her view of everyone else in the room.
“You’re ignoring me,”He whispers gently, “is it something that I did? Was it… was it the sex?”
“Stop.”
“Mel please, I need to know I didn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” She hisses back, “we can’t talk here. Not about this.”
She turns to look up at him, what she sees reels her back. His blue eyes are so deep, so dark, it reminds her of deep sea. The unknown. His mouth hangs open, and he leaves no room for personal space. His eyes shift from one of her eyes to the other.
“Later, please.” She whispers. He simply nods.
“Later, okay.”
She watches as he leaves the room, she doesn’t dare glance over at everyone surrounding the patient. She puts in the order.
“Okay, it’s later, there’s no one around. Can we please talk now?”
Langdon pulls her into one of the private rooms. Mel can’t help but think how increasingly inappropriate they’ve become. This was meant to be for grieving families or loved ones of the patients. Not a room to discuss one’s relationship with a divorced man… soon to be divorced man.
“Mel?”
“I didn’t say here.”
“If not here, then when?”
Mel stared up at him, his anxious expression morphing his face to wobbly lines. She wanted to reach a finger to smooth away the crease she’d put between his brows.
Mel, focus!
“It was great, right? I didn’t ruin your experience—”
“Okay.” She pauses him with a hand clasped over his mouth. He merely blinks at her in surprise. The crease between his brows deepening.
“Can we not do this here? As in at the job we both work at.”
“Mel…” His voice is muffled by her hand against his mouth. “I told you it’s only you.”
Mel can feel her heart clench at that. He was too good at this. At making her feel flustered.
“That’s not—okay it’s partially that. But I just…” She looks away for a second, her hand moving away from his mouth. “I never felt this way about anyone before.”
“Yeah?” His body leans towards her, his arm moving towards her before stopping, hovering over her hip.
“Yeah,” her hand lands on his chest, “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to being involved with someone like this. It had nothing to do with the sex, I promise.”
“I just want to make you feel good.” He whispers. “And I want you to know that—” he points to his chest, “—that this means a lot to me. This isn’t some kind of game to me. You matter to me.”
“I know. I know. You matter a lot to me too. It just feels weird. Not bad weird. Weird as in different weird.”
Langdon simply nods, the strands of his hair getting in his face. She reaches up and brushes them out of his eyes. He inhales a breath, his chest raising a bit faster.
“I can do weird. We can work out weird.”
She can’t help but smile. Despite the fear, despite feeling like she’s going to run away. She stares into his face and can only see home.
Mel’s got a fool-proof plan for her life: take care of her sister and dad, finish college and go to med school. Frank’s white-knuckling it through his sobriety, and he clings to his sponsor, Mel’s dad, with everything he has left. When they meet, falling in love is the absolute last thing that should happen, but Mel and Frank do it as easy as breathing.
It takes them more than ten years to do something about it.
The demons won out. Kingdon Nation, I humbly offer you chapter 1 of Call It What You Want.
Mel and Langdon aren't together.
They're just friends.
Friends that stand too close, move too easily, stare for too long.
But the Pitt has a bet.
And they don't like to lose.
Princess: NOT LIKE THIS
Princess: THIS WAS DIFFERENT
Cassie: how different
Princess: i had to look away
Cassie: ???
Cassie: why
Princess: it felt illegal
Santos: ??????
Victoria: OH MY GOD
Abbot: Did they kiss
