Chapter Text
The best of times
Are when I'm alone with you
Some rain some shine
We'll make this a world for two
The ambulance bay was quieter than it had any right to be. After everything. The noise, the pressure, the way every second of that shift had felt like it was pulling her in ten different directions. Mel almost didn’t trust it.
She could still feel it, though.
The echo of voices overlapping.
The sting of questions in that deposition room.
The look on Becca’s face when she’d raised her voice.
Mel sat on the low concrete barrier, shoulders slumped, fingers curled against the edge like she needed something solid to hold onto. Her bag rested beside her, headphones tucked safely inside.
She wasn’t ready for silence.
Not yet.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
She didn’t turn right away. She already knew.
“Hey.”
Mel glanced over her shoulder, and there he was.
Frank.
Something in her chest loosened instantly, like her body recognized him as safe before her brain could catch up.
“Hey,” she said, softer than she meant to.
He stopped a few feet away at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was interrupting something. Then he stepped closer, leaning against the barrier beside her.
Not too close.
Close enough.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
And then-
“I wanted to thank you,” he said.
Mel blinked, turning toward him. “For…?”
“For today.” His voice was quieter than she’d ever heard it. “For being there. For… being kind to me.”
That caught her off guard.
“Oh.” She shrugged, like it was obvious, because why wouldn't she be?
“Yeah. Of course.”
He shook his head slightly. “No. Not ‘of course’.’”
Mel frowned a little, studying him.
“You were,” he added. “One of the only people who was.”
Something in her chest tightened.
She looked away for a second, picking at the edge of the concrete where it was coming off in chunks.
“Long day?” he asked gently.
Mel let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
She didn’t say anything else.
She didn’t have to.
Frank already knew.
He’d been there when she came out of that deposition, shoulders tight, eyes unfocused.
He’d been there when she snapped at Becca.
He’d been the one to tell her to get some air before things got worse.
He’d been the one to stand with her and rack her brain to help her understand why she was feeling the way she did.
He hadn’t told her she was wrong. He’d just stayed there with her, gently guiding her through it until she could see it a little more clearly.
“I think I messed up a lot of things today,” she said quietly.
Frank didn’t hesitate.
“You didn’t.”
She huffed, shaking her head. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he said, steady.
She glanced at him, and it hit her.
That tone.
The same one from earlier, when she’d found him in the break room, questioning everything. When he’d looked at her like he needed someone to believe in him.
And she had.
She always had.
Now he was handing that back.
Mel swallowed.
Across from her, he shifted slightly, and for just a second she was pulled back to earlier.
The way he’d crossed the ED the second he saw her sitting there, icepack on her head and pain on her face.
The way he’d taken care of her.
The ER can be a little bright and noisy.
Like it mattered. Like she mattered.
“You were there for me too,” she said quietly.
He looked at her.
“That day… Pitt Fest,” she added, softer. “And today.”
She gave a small shrug. “Feels pretty even to me.”
Frank huffed out a soft breath, something almost like a laugh.
“Still,” he said. “It means a lot, Mel.”
She held his gaze a second longer than she meant to.
“Any time.”
At some point, without either of them really noticing, their shoulders brushed.
Neither of them moved away.
Mel shifted slightly, turning her head just enough to look up at him properly.
And she smiled.
Not the small, polite one she gave patients.
Not the deflective one she used when she didn’t want to talk about something.
This one was softer.
Warmer.
Real.
It hit him harder than anything else that day.
Frank felt something in his chest give a little, something loosening in a way he hadn’t realized was tight.
He smiled back.
And then his gaze dropped.
Just for a second.
From her eyes, to her lips, and then back up again.
It was quick.
Subtle.
But not subtle enough.
Something shifted in the space between them.
Mel’s breath caught.
Barely there, but enough.
Her smile faltered just slightly, not disappearing, just… changing. Like she suddenly didn’t know what to do with it anymore.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them said anything.
But the air between them felt different now.
Closer.
Warmer.
Charged.
Then Mel cleared her throat lightly, shifting her weight.
“Well,” she said, pushing herself up from the barrier, brushing her hands against her scrub pants, “I should probably start heading home.”
Frank frowned, just slightly. “You’re not gonna stay and watch the fireworks?”
She glanced past him, toward the skyline where faint flashes of color were already starting to bloom between buildings in the distance.
“Ah… no, it’s okay,” she said, a little too quickly. “Usually I’d watch them with Becca, but she’s…” she hesitated, then shrugged, trying to make it sound casual “-watching them with her boyfriend. So. I’m just gonna go home. Go to bed.”
Frank nodded once.
Then, without hesitation, like it was the most obvious suggestion.
“You could watch them with me.”
Mel blinked, turning back to him.
“I—no, I can’t do that, I’m sure your ki—”
“My kids are with their mom,” he cut in, a little too fast, like he didn’t want to give himself time to second-guess it. “They’re at their grandma’s place in New York.”
“Oh.”
The word came out softer than she meant it to.
She looked down and saw that where there used to be a gold wedding band, was now bare.
Frank shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly looking unsure in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“So,” he said, a little quieter now, “if it’s okay with you… I’d really like it if you joined me.”
Mel hesitated.
Not because she didn’t want to.
That was the problem.
“…okay,” she said finally, a small smile slipping through. “Yeah. Sure.”
The walk was short.
Neither of them rushed it.
The night air had cooled just enough to be comfortable, carrying the distant crack of ground fireworks echoing between buildings. Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting everything in that soft, golden glow that made the city feel quieter than it really was.
They didn’t talk much.
They didn’t need to.
Every so often, their hands would swing just a little too close.
Once… just once, their fingers brushed.
Both of them noticed.
Neither of them said anything.
The park wasn’t crowded, not where he brought her.
A little further out, away from the main paths, there was a bench tucked beneath a tree that gave them a clear view of the sky without the noise of a full crowd pressing in around them.
Mel let out a small breath as she sat.
“This is… nice,” she admitted.
Frank smiled, settling beside her. “Yeah. I’ve spent a lot of time on this bench the last few months.”
Closer than before.
Not touching.
But close.
The first real round of fireworks went off overhead. Sharp, bright bursts that echoed across the park.
Mel flinched immediately, hands flying to her bag.
“Hold on-” she muttered, already unzipping it, fingers moving quickly until she pulled out her headphones and slipped them on.
Another BANG.
Her shoulders still jumped, but less this time.
Frank watched her for a second, something soft in his expression.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded, adjusting them slightly. “Yeah. Way.”
Between the louder bursts, they talked.
Easy things.
Small things.
“That one looks like a jellyfish,” Mel said, pointing up.
Frank squinted. “That looks nothing like a jellyfish.”
“It does if you squint.”
“I don’t want to squint, I want to see the fireworks.”
She laughed, quiet, but real, and something in his chest shifted.
Another firework bloomed overhead. Gold this time, cascading down in slow, shimmering trails.
Mel tilted her head back, completely absorbed, eyes tracking every flicker of light.
Frank wasn’t watching the fireworks anymore.
The glow lit her face in warm flashes, catching in her eyes, softening everything about her. Her headphones sat slightly crooked, a few strands of hair already slipping loose around her face.
She looked… God.
She looked unreal.
Mel turned suddenly. “What?”
He blinked, caught.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, but another burst pulled her attention back to the sky.
Frank exhaled quietly, dragging a hand down his face.
Yeah.
He was in trouble.
The fireworks started to slow.
Mel reached up, sliding her headphones down around her neck.
“I think that’s it,” she said.
She tugged at her braid, wincing. “Ow… okay, yeah, that’s been too tight all day.”
She worked it loose, fingers moving quickly, and her hair fell down around her shoulders.
Frank forgot how to breathe.
For a second, everything went quiet.
And then-
BANG.
Mel yelped, hands flying up to cover her ears as a sudden second round of fireworks exploded overhead. Louder, sharper, closer than before.
Before he could think about it, Frank’s hands came up too, instinctively covering hers, pressing gently over her ears.
Another burst.
And another.
They stayed like that. Close, almost pressed together, his hands over hers, the sound muffled between them.
Time stretched.
Then the noise faded.
Slowly, Mel lowered her hands.
She turned, and he was already looking at her.
Her hair down. The last golden sparks lighting her face.
“Okay,” she said, a little breathless, like she needed to break the moment before it broke her. “Now I should probably go.”
Frank blinked, like he’d been pulled out of something.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I, uh… I can walk you.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I want to.”
That stopped her.
“…okay,” she said softly.
The walk was quiet.
Not awkward.
Just… content.
When they reached her door, Mel turned to him, fingers curling loosely in the strap of her bag.
“Thank you, Dr. Langdon,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You didn’t have to do that. But you did. And I appreciate it.”
She hesitated.
“It was nice,” she added. “Doing something different, for once.”
Frank smiled. Real this time, easy.
“No problem,” he said. “I like different.”
A beat.
“And you can call me Frank,” he added. “When we’re not at work.”
Mel’s smile softened.
“…okay,” she said. “Goodnight, Frank.”
“Goodnight, Mel.”
She closed the door and immediately leaned back against it, pressing her hands to her face, a quiet, giddy sound escaping her.
On the sidewalk, Frank stood there for a second longer than necessary.
Then he turned, heading back toward the hospital, a smile tugging at his mouth he didn’t even try to hide.