crickets at night

Mel looks up at him. She can't really figure out his expression, but she nods all the same.

"Doctor Santos, um, she said I should start to put myself out there more. So, I'm putting myself out there, I guess."

Of-fucking-course it’s Trinity’s idea, he thinks. So Frank nods, drumming his fingers nervously on the table. "She's not wrong, it's— it’s not a bad idea. How's that going for you?"

“Well,” Mel starts, “apparently dates at the museum are not the most desirable thing—”

“Says who?” Frank looks affronted.

Mel shrugs. “Everyone in the 28-35 age range in Pittsburgh.”

Frank is about to say ‘sounds like a bunch of fucking losers, because I think it’s a great idea for a date’ when Mel leans in, turning her phone around.

“Maybe it’s my pictures? Um, Santos said I should use this one,” she swipes to a photo of her laughing with her hair down. She looks absolutely beautiful— carefree, rosy cheeks. He wonders where she was and what even made her smile like that.

Frank wets his lips, then gives a small shrug. “It’s a— a great photo, Mel. You should definitely use that. You look pretty. Super pretty.”

Mel smiles, wrinkling her nose at the photo, as if she’s seeing something for the first time. “Oh. Thank you, I—”

Dana ducks her head into the lounge and tells Frank he’s needed elsewhere. He almost knocks his chair over from how fast he stands.

For the next few hours, Frank keeps hovering around Mel, especially when she’s talking with Santos. He tries eavesdropping. He also tries not to be so obvious, but Santos is catching on fast.

About midday, a Sheriff's Deputy appears at the hub, asking for Frank Langdon. The Pitt is abuzz by this development while Frank makes his way over. He doesn’t seem nervous, but his neck is slowly reddening.

“You’re Frank Langdon?”

“I am,” he answers. He knows what this is.

The Sheriff’s Deputy confirms Frank’s birthdate, then his address. The address Frank gives, which he also mentions, is a sober living facility. It turns out he and Abby have been separated since before he came back, and per their custody agreement, has been living there as transitional housing. Rent also operates on a sliding scale, which is about all he can afford for the time being between the PHP and recouping rehab debt.

He still has his wedding band on at this point, but sheepishly takes it off when he’s putting the divorce papers away in his locker. When he closes his locker door, Mel is standing there.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?” She asks, looking absolutely crushed. “Is there anything else you’re keeping a secret— lying about?”

Frank tearfully comes clean about the drug diversion. He tells Mel that he didn’t think he could handle her thinking less of him, especially with how close they’ve gotten. She means so much to him now, and he really was just trying to find the right time, but he knows now that it was wrong of him to withhold this like he did. He was ashamed of himself, and still trying to process it on his own, and felt like advertising his many failures was just too much. He was a coward and she deserved the truth. He’s sorry.

Mel is shocked by this— it overwhelms her, and she even looks like she’s about to cry. She tells him she doesn’t think less of him, but this is just too much right now, and they really need to get back to work. She asks him for space.

Eventually Dana finds Mel in the stairwell— a callback to July— and reminds her again that people have their own reasons for doing things. Mel is a good person. Frank is also a good person. Dana tells Mel that it’s obvious Mel sees that in Frank, too.

Dana stands and turns to Mel. “You know, this is better than what I thought was going on.”

“What’s that?” Mel asks.

“I thought he was steppin’ out on his wife with you, kid.” Dana winks and holds open the door for Mel. “C’mon.”

For the rest of the shift, Frank is basically on the verge of lashing out or crying. Robby is hounding him, almost like he wants to push Frank over the edge. Things come to a head in the trauma bay and it’s Mel who literally steps in front of Frank, pointing angrily at Robby, and tells him to fucking stop. She’s furious, and Doctor Garcia is there, looking like her entire opinion of Mel King has transformed into outright hero-worship.

Robby, stunned, babbles a quick apology and leaves.

Later, in the ambulance bay, Frank is standing there alone. He keeps absentmindedly touching the bare ring finger on his left hand. Mel steps outside. Their eyes meet. They don’t say anything as Mel comes to stand at his side and they stand in silence for a few moments before Frank thanks her and apologizes again.

“I’ve never seen you so angry,” he says, a little reverently.

“Well, I was angry. Much angrier at him than—”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts again.

“It’s okay,” she says, watching his face. “I forgive you. It— it must have been hard. Everything you were going through. All of it. I get why that felt like the best decision. It really wasn’t my business, anyway, I guess.”

They’re quiet again, before Frank clears his throat.

“You know, I was thinking I should keep my mind busy this weekend. Today was a lot. I was gonna swing by Fort Pitt tomorrow afternoon and just wander around all day.”

Mel’s brows knit together.

“If you’re not, uh, busy or anything, Mel, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Really?”

Frank rubs at the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m sorry, I— I, uh, I haven’t done this in a while. I would love it if you joined me.”

Mel’s face turns red. “Is— are—”

“I’m asking you on a date, yeah,” Frank laughs, then drags his hands over his face, as if doing so could wipe the goofy smile he has away. He can’t.

“I would love that, Doctor Langdon.”

“Jesus, don’t— Mel, c’mon. Just call me Frank.”

“Okay, sorry, um, Frank,” she laughs, shaking her head.

They both take a step closer, until their arms are brushing.

“So, it’s a date?” He glances to her lips.

“Yes. It’s a date.” Mel smiles. “Frank.”

They laugh, then both briefly look away from each other, suddenly shy.