#mild angst

“What the hell are you even doing here then Gabe?" Will screamed, face red with anger and eyes blazing, "Huh? Do you have anything to say to that or are you gonna sit silent like you have through all of this?!"

The boy sitting across from him seemed unphased by Will's outburst which only served to piss the witch off more.

"How the fuck are you supposed to be helping me if you won't even fucking do anything?!" Silence from the guide. "Huh? You got nothing to say to that? Fucking figures."

"I can't do everything for you Will. That's not my job."

"You could do something though! Anything! Ryan's been a dog for almost a full fucking week and we are no fucking closer to turning him back! And you've been here as my guide-" his face sneered unpleasantly, lip curling up as he spat out the words guide like it was poison, "- the whole fucking time and you've been useless! Fucking useless!"

"I'm fucking trying Will!" Gabe finally snapped. His teeth were bared like he was still a dog and his hands were curled up like he was trying to restrain himself from hitting Will.

"I don't know what I'm doing any more than you do!" His chest heaved with the admission and Will's mouth snapped shut as to not say something snarky in return. Both boys stared at each other, chests heaving from yelling.

"I don't know what I'm doing, okay?" Gabe admitted quietly, voice cracking, "Being a guide doesn't have some instruction manual and it's not like I had family I could turn to or books I could use to figure this out like you do. I was just created one day and drawn to you, so please…" His voice trailed off unsteadily, like he was trying to hold back tears just as much as Will was. "I'm trying to help you Will. I promise I want to help."

The silence in the room was a startling contrast to the yelling match that had just occurred and it was heavy with the weight of what Gabe had just admitted. Will honestly had no idea what Gabe's life had looked like before Will but he never would have guessed that he just didn't have one.

"I believe you," Will whispered, breaking the silence as he stepped closer to the guide— his guide, no one else's. Gabe blue eyes were watery with tears and Will could tell his own eyes were far from dry.

While you were finishing the dishes, a pair of hands connected to your waist and a chin rested on your shoulder.

"I like this. You and me, in a home where I can feel your warmth and love," he softly said, kissing your nape and snuggling into your warm back.

"Me too, a new year with you. Building a life we thought was impossible to create," you replied, feeling his soft smooches on your nape.

You finally put down the last utensil and dried your hands with the towel nearby. Facing your husband, you kissed his cheek, hugged his neck, and leaned into the vibe of the song.

You traced his scars and calloused palms, feeling the roughness of the skin. You didn't care if he was full of battle scars and flaws. The only thing on your mind was—he was home with you, touching you, loving you.

Your favorite song from the album came on, making your eyes gleam with enthusiasm. You started singing the song while still hugging your husband.

"I love you," your husband suddenly said, looking at you with yearn and reverence in his eyes. Your eyes started to tear up. It was normal for your husband to say those three words, but the way he said them this time made your heart melt.

"I love you more, my love." You kissed his lips slowly and passionately, tasting the deep love you have for each other.

You pulled away, realizing the place wasn't yet clean and the new year was about to arrive in an hour. Your family and friends had celebrated early because they had their own celebrations at home.

"We have to clean up, darling. We don't want our new year to start messy." You two chuckled, and he pulled you into another kiss before letting you go.

He started sweeping the floor while you cleaned the remains on the table. Neither of you spoke, entirely focused on finishing everything up. The only thing keeping the atmosphere noisy was the record player.

You stopped what you were doing and looked at your devoted husband with a smile on your face. You walked up to him and told him you wanted to dance to the song. He quickly took your hands, never missing the opportunity to dance with his wife.

You put one arm on his shoulder while he held your waist like he was afraid to let you go. His other hand took yours and started swaying. You two danced with the song like the world around you didn't exist for a while.

Fireworks started outside, which meant the new year had officially arrived, but that didn't stop what you two were doing. The song ended, and the fireworks still continued.

"I'll hold on to the memories we built together. The love I have for you is too ardent to vanish. I will cherish you till you and I meet again in another life. I love you, and happy new year, my love."

With that, he pulled you near to his chest and kissed you so tenderly, with care and devotion.

Maybe Nanami Kento doesn't need to fight off the heavy thoughts inside his mind. He doesn't need to push others away to shield them, or carry a weight thinking everyone else is a burden he must bear alone. Because you're there to care for him, to listen and guide him through the dark. As long as you're breathing and holding him close, he is whole. He is solved.

Love brings the better version of us. The past brings the naive mind we had, and the future brings the version we thought was lost.

(also available on AO3)

The thought, Fuck it, we ball, drifted into your mind, eliciting a giggle from yourself, and contributing to you being able to make it out the door. Something about repeating the completely unserious phrase made it easier to accept the lack of seriousness in the actual situation. It's a housewarming party, you reminded yourself, not a date. Family and friends coming to support Frank. It's not about you, it's about making him feel loved. Just focus on making him happy. Focus on Frank.

That thought made you strangely excited. For once, your fixation on him was permissible.

He'd told you that you didn't need to bring anything, but you still couldn't stop yourself from buying him a box of Oreos when you went to the grocery store the other day, as he had once mentioned liking them. You'd stuck them in a shiny blue gift bag from your last birthday that you'd never gotten around to throwing out, along with some silvery tissue paper.

Standing in front of his apartment building, you felt very silly from head to toe. As you contemplated hiding the bag (and possibly yourself) in the bushes by the door, Frank was suddenly there, crossing through the lobby area, eyes locked on you. You had a few seconds to let a handful of sharp, anxious thoughts to attack you, ones where his face contorted nastily as he revealed the party wasn't now, or that he wasn't serious about inviting you, before he swung open the door with a smile.

"Hey! You made it!"

There was always something a little disconcerting about seeing your co-workers out of their scrubs, Frank never failing to take your breath away, in particular. He wore a charcoal cable-knit sweater with a moss green button-down peeking out from underneath, simply paired with jeans and slip-on loafers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying two beaded bracelets made by his kids (as well as his incredible biceps).

"Is that for me?" Blinking hard to snap yourself to attention, you followed his gaze to the gift bag you were clutching.

"Er- unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Frank gestured for you to come in, shutting the door almost immediately after you crossed the threshold, allowing for the briefest moment where his arm brushed your back.

"Well, it's very stupid, you see."

With a sly expression, he reached to grab the bag from you, the shock of your fingers touching being enough to immediately make you let go and pass it over.

Pushing aside the tissue, his face lit up as he laughed and pulled out the Oreo package.

"How could Oreos ever be stupid?" Peeling back the top, he took out a cookie to pass to you and another for himself. "My kids are going to love you for this." His head tilted in slight thought. "Though I should probably hide them until after we eat..." He shoved the package back into the bag, adjusting the tissue paper until the shiny blue wrapper was no longer visible.

"Being the doctor parent does sort of burden you with always needing to encourage healthy eating habits." The familiar taste of an Oreo comforted you only briefly, before the fear of meeting new people while having mysterious black specks all over and in-between your teeth kicked in.

"It's my constant struggle." Reading your mind, Frank bared all his teeth, eliciting a sharp shocked laugh from you. "Am I clear?" Nodding as you giggled, you managed to interrupt yourself long enough to him yours. "Looking great-" his free hand went to the back of your shoulder, changing the nature of your giggles to one of awkward giddiness that you again struggled to suppress "-let's head on up!"

Frank lead you to a corridor down the left, towards a set of green carpeted stairs. "I'm only on the second floor," he explained. "I considered calling out to you from the window, but I thought it'd be mildly less frightening if I just materialised in front of the door the second you walked up."

"Well, if you ever get curious about how loud I can scream-" Your face flushed red, words tumbling out before you could stop yourself.

Frank grinned, looking you straight in the eye as he spoke, "I'll be sure to invite you back."

You could see the headline now - Grown Woman Dies of Embarrassment in Front of Crush - with a byline noting how your family and friends found it an absolute wonder it didn't happen sooner (you could clearly picture your best friend, through tears, referring to it as "a merciful death").

A few steps away from the staircase, Frank opened the door to 204, holding it while you quickly (and, of course, awkwardly) wiped your slightly wet heels on the navy blue doormat before entering. You didn't step far enough forward before he came in afterwards, causing him to be stood barely an inch behind you.

"You can just put your coat and bag on my bed with the others'," Frank's voice was soft, breath feathering against your ear, completely comfortable with your proximity, while your own brain short-circuited. "I'm going to go hide this- " he shook the bag gently "- on top of the fridge, I think. Come find me and I'll start introducing you around, okay?"

Frank moved around you and headed off towards his kitchen, while you stood dumbly for a moment longer. Mercifully, his entryway was not visible from the main room, sparing you from this being your first impression to the rest of the party.

Slipping off your coat, you stepped forward through the entryway. Looking first to your left, you saw the living room, spotting roughly six people already happily chatting away, plus two kids - both boys, presumably at least one being Tanner - very intently playing with some cars on the floor. A dark-haired woman smiled at you, which you returned in kind, before looking to your right, where you saw his bedroom.

You took in the room slowly, eyes roaming over the book titles on the wire and wood bookshelf, admiring the few trinkets he had and the plant on the windowsill. You added your coat next to the others on the checkered bedspread and placed your purse on the ground, smile growing when you caught sight of drawings made by his children on the wall.

As you stepped closer to look at a cyan blue cat wearing a crown roughly twice the size of its body, you heard your name said from the door. Jumping slightly, you turned and saw the woman whom had smiled at you before.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you - but that is who you are, right?"

"Er- yes," you replied, taking in her appearance. With brilliant blue eyes and strong, dark eyebrows, a cautious guess as to her identity came to mind. "You wouldn't happen to be-"

"Frank's sister?" she extended a slim hand for you to shake, her many bracelets jingling in the process. "I prefer to be known as Madeleine." She looked you up and down. "God, you're nearly exactly as he described. And he said I was crazy when I suggested he take up creative writing as an elective at school!" She then noticed what you were looking at when she entered. "Oh, do you like kids?"

"Um," you attempted to catch up, Madeleine's train of thought travelling at a much faster rate than yours, which had gotten derailed in nearly every conversation you had so far today. "I think so?" You laughed awkwardly. "I don't really know many, besides my nieces and nephews. But I'm sort of inherently biased to them."

"Well, come and meet some more, then! It's vital thing to have a clear opinion on." The silence of her ballet flats against the floor made you hyper-conscience of the click-clacking of your heels, but you dutifully followed nevertheless. "And let me know what you think of the decor. I picked out 90% of it, and guided him towards the other 10."

Back down and out the hallway, she brought you to the living room, which was definitely not meant for the amount of people there. An olive green L-shaped couch fit snugly in the corner, where two men chatted as a little girl (whom you assumed to be Penny) spoke with equal animation to a boy on one man's lap. A few glasses already cluttered the oak coffee table, pool ball coasters sat beneath them. A charcuterie board was placed there as well, already quite picked through. A woman sat on the edge of the couch's matching recliner, speaking with a couple stood beside her while also watching the two boys playing on the ground.

"That's my son, Liam, with Tanner," Madeleine explained, gesturing to the smaller of the two. "He doesn't start school until next year, so I was able to take him along with me on this trip." The woman in the recliner had an expectant face as the two of you approached, and Madeleine introduced you. "And this is Lola, a friend of mine from growing up. She just recently moved to Pittsburgh for work."

You smiled pleasantly, even as a pit formed in your stomach, swallowing a few more of your hopes and dreams as the real future Mrs. Langdon gave you her hand to shake.

"What do you do?" Perfectly tanned and toned, you wouldn't have been surprised if she was some sort of influencer. Her followers would refer to Frank as Dr. Dreamy. Or find out about his work nickname of ER Ken. Eventually, there would be incidents of patients insisting on having him as their doctor, with some coming to the hospital expressly to meet him. This, of course, would only be until the family all moved off to Hollywood to support her ever-heightening fame, and you only ever get to see Frank again in the context of watching whatever medical drama he gets cast in.

"I'm an insurance agent." Practical. Sensible. Not someone likely to be on the verge of permanent insanity over a crush.

"You work with Frank in the ER, right?" Asked the broad-shouldered man stood next to her chair. "I'm Angel, and this is Bianca," he introduced, in reference to the woman whose waist his arm was wrapped around.

Why are all his friends so suspiciously beautiful? you wondered, a mix of amazement and confusion. You resolved to avoid looking in any mirrors until you got home, which would also be when you'd inevitably spend a considerable amount of time stalking them all online.

You had enough time to learn that Angel and Frank had gone to college together and that Bianca was from Boston, when you heard your name coming from the direction of the kitchen. Frank's head was poking out of the doorway, shooting an interesting look towards his sister.

"I see Madeleine got to you already." You walk into the kitchen, where a tray of artichoke dip and chips waited to be brought out, as well as a plate of stuffed peppers. "Drinks are stuck being in here - operating with minimal space. And a fear of condensation."

Opening the fridge, you found a few cans of ginger ale, a few of sparkling water, some Redbull (at the back of the highest shelf), a jug of orange juice, and a pitcher of water. Fearing fizz-induced burps, you stuck to water, pouring into an ice-filled glass Frank had ready for you.

The overhead lights in the room were off, the space illuminated solely by the small window on one side, and the light seeping in from the living room on the other. It felt cozy and intimate to be stood here alone with Frank, the chatter of his friends nothing but a distant buzz. You sipped from your glass as he took a drink from his. Despite the coolness of the liquid, you felt fuzzy and warm all over as looked at you with silent softness. Your mouth twitched upwards at the ends. So did his.

"I hope she didn't tell you anything too embarrassing."

"I don't think anything will ever beat you having a crush on Velma Dinkley well-into adulthood."

He shut his eyes briefly in grimace. As much as you relished the opportunity to gaze upon him unmonitored, you were eager to see them open again. "I don't know why I told you that."

You laughed and he looked at you again, and your ears flushed with excitement.

"Who'd she show you to?" You listed the names, and he nodded. "Mm-kay, still Thom, Murray, and the kids, then." He grabbed the tray with the dip and you took the stuffed peppers, following him back out.

Thom was another friend from college, while Murray was a firefighter whose son (Keyes, two-years old and already stuck sporting glasses that took up most of his face) also went to Penny's daycare. The two toddlers stopped their babbling to stare at you. Penny waved and you waved back, which seemed to please her immensely, as she then reached forward to grab the last grape on the charcuterie board to give to you as a gift.

After you ate it, Penny chanted "Sit! Sit!" until you sat next to her, and she then delighted in grabbing the end of your skirt so she could feel the velvet. Teaching her the word, it became her favourite for the day, randomly saying "Vellll-vet" every now and then.

Madeleine threw a pillow onto the floor next to you and elegantly threw herself upon it. She seemed to already know of your favourite music artists, eliciting your opinions on particular songs and albums, asking and giving recommendations for others. When Angel joined in, the conversation shifted to live music, and later travel, bringing the interest of Murray.

Frank sat on the other end of the couch next to Thom. Every now and then, he absent-mindedly would reach out to ruffle his son's hair slightly, who seemed to have no reaction to it. He, Thom, and Murray started to speak about a marathon they hoped to do next summer, and Lola joined in on this conversation, having done the Boston Marathon this year. Your jealousy flared, to your embarrassment, yet again, quickly (and thankfully) tempered by Bianca revealing herself to be from Boston and pulling Lola into a chat about that.

Frank briefly returned to the kitchen to fetch four peanut butter and banana sandwiches he'd had prepped and ready in the fridge, low hopes for their willingness to eat much of the other food prepared. Penny had you hold her milk as she ate, occasionally tapping your arm to pass it to her.

"If there was ever a doubt she was a Langdon," Thom mused, watching the exchange.

Frank shot him a playful glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I keep expecting her to ask for a scalpel," you joked, as you again took the glass back from her, now placing it along with the empty plate on the coffee table.

"Very determined, very confident," Lola added. Your heart panged at the thought of any favour earned from the compliment. "Makes me think of our group projects in school."

"What's wrong with always being right?" Madeleine asked with a leisurely shrug. "If it works, it works. Got her to eat, didn't it? Now she'll have all her strength to go after her naughty cousin, who hasn't even finished half!"

Liam didn't verbally respond to this, simply another single bite of his food before returning to whatever intricate world he, Tanner, and their toy cars were in.

Frank, knowing his son, grabbed Tanner's partially eaten sandwich half and simply put it in front of his face, allowing him to eat it without breaking concentration. Pulling a face at the awkward sensation of having someone eat out of his hand, Frank again went to the kitchen to dispose of a few dishes and wash his hands.

As it neared evening, the final tray, of brownies, blondies, and your Oreos (which Frank immediately identified as such, beginning the start of Penny declaring you to be her friend, not her father's).

Murray and a sleepy Keyes left first, a small container of extra food in hand. Angel and Bianca were next, happy to take the remaining stuffed peppers (that Bianca had Frank write out the recipe for on a scrap piece of paper, and then re-write in "non-doctor writing"). Thom took some blondies and, to your delighted surprise, Lola's phone number.

Madeleine, after having gone to Frank's room to grab her, her son's, and Lola's things, handed you her phone, instructing you to put your phone number in her contacts and to follow your own Instagram from her account. Without question, you did it. Again, some part of you anticipated being asked to pass a scalpel over next, when you handed back her phone.

Lola, in yet another surprise, also - and quite shyly, too - asked for your information, as she "didn't know many people in Pittsburgh yet, and you seem like a really wonderful person to have around."

The most difficult goodbye was between Liam and Tanner, who, somehow, were not done their game. With the promise that they would be back tomorrow, and that absolutely no one would touch the current placement of their toys, the boys finally got up. Scarfing down their now stale sandwiches and room-temperature milk in an apparent race with one another, Liam shoved back on his coat (his mum doing up the zipper, to his irritation) and stood by the door, waiting for her.

"I'm in town for another week," Madeleine informed you as she gave you a hug goodbye. "Text me what your days off are, and I will see you on at least one of them. Goodnight."

Frank reemerged from the kids' room, where he had already put Penny to sleep. Peering into the bathroom to make sure Tanner was brushing his teeth, he began to clean up, which you helped with.

"Successful night?" you asked, as the last of the dishes were brought to the sink.

Frank began to rinse the plates. "Depends - did you have fun?"

"Did I- yeah, absolutely! Your friends are really nice. And your sister..." he lifted an amused eyebrow "... is like a more intense version of you."

"More Langdon than I, you mean?"

"I'd love to see her to go toe-to-toe with Santos."

"What, you don't think I'm up to the challenge?"

"Do you?"

Before he could respond, the two of you heard Tanner exit the bathroom and head towards his room, and Frank left to read him to sleep. Not yet willing to leave, and having the decent excuse of it being quite rude (and awkward!) to go home without saying goodbye, you started to work on the dishes. You were nearly done by the time he came back.

"Hey- oh! You didn't have to do that," Frank protested softly, though his face was devoid of any harshness.

You shrugged one shoulder, "It's a party to celebrate you, Frank. You shouldn't have to work for it. Well, besides the cooking. If I thought I could afford you, I'd be pushing for you to be a private chef or something right now. How long did that even take?"

Frank took over drying the pot you were working on. "Ha, it's best not to keep track of that sort of thing. Doesn't matter as long as the end result was good." He squatted down to put the pot in a bottom drawer, and you handed him another smaller one to be put away as well. "You really liked it? The food?"

"Frank, it was amazing. I'm honestly more intimidated by your cooking than your surgical skills."

He laughed with an adorable shake of his head before he stood up. "You work tomorrow, right?"

"Uh-huh." You hung up the tea towel, wondering if wiping down the counters would be going a step too far.

Frank opened the fridge, pulling out a lunch container. "It's, uh, just some stir fry I made the other night. It should be still good for tomorrow, if you want it, at all." His ears, for once, were the ones flushed pink, as he looked at the container, rather than you.

With an eagerness you would feel embarrassed by as you attempted to fall asleep that night, you responded, "Do you mean it? Absolutely! Thank you so much!" Paralysing eye contact as you took the food from him, expressions mirroring one another.

"Really? Alright, great! Uh," Frank laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Text me to let me know what you think. I'm just hanging out with Mads and the kids tomorrow."

"Okay, I will." You felt breathless, though you'd barely moved at all.

"Great! You're-" He cut himself off, shaking his head gently again to reset. "How'd you get here, by the way?"

"Oh, I just took the bus. There's a stop like a two minute walk from here, that brings me maybe ten-ish from mine. I should probably go check to see when the next one is, huh?" You turned to leave, but his hands came up to hold onto your upper arms, keeping you in place.

"No, no, it's too late to be out on the bus."

You glanced at the stove clock without turning your body, worried any movement will make him stop touching you, and you desperately wanted to prolong this sensation as long as possible. "Frank, it's not even seven o'clock yet."

"Already dark out."

"It's winter."

"Not the point. I'm getting you an Uber."

"Fr-"

"Normally, I'd drive you back myself, but I can't leave the kids alone."

"Fra-" you kept trying to protest, but one hand removed itself from your arm to grab his phone from his back pocket, while the other changed position from being a gentle grip to an almost caress. This was enough to divert your attention long enough for him to book a ride.

He walked you back to his room, where your coat and bag sat alone. You then stood together by his front door, car two minutes away.

"I had an amazing time tonight," he told you. "Really. I didn't say it before. I was worried it'd feel awkward, getting everyone together to celebrate me being a divorced dad. But it wasn't."

"Everyone came together to celebrate you entering a new chapter of your life. It wasn't awkward because it was genuine. Genuine care, that is."

"You genuinely care for me?" His voice was soft, and though his expression was quite readable, you couldn't bring yourself to truly believe that was what you were seeing.

Still, you whispered in response, "I really genuinely care for you, Frank."

The car was here.

Neither of you spoke for a moment as you both looked down at his phone.

"Text me when you get home, please."

"I will. Goodnight, Frank."

He moved to open the door for you, bringing your faces barely an inch apart.

"Goodnight," he whispered, hot breath fanning you as he did. Even as you stepped out into the cold December night air, you still felt his warmth upon you. You knew it'd be a very long time until you'd forget it, if ever.

You'd worked alongside Langdon for two years now and fully (and painfully) considered him to be your friend. You had, on some level, always had some sort of feelings for him, from that very moment Dana had introduced you as the newest nurse in her fleet. But it took about a year for them to be utterly undeniable, burning an all-consuming flame within you. It built while handling shared patients and during lunch breaks. Then quiet moments in the ambulance bay. A Penguins game with a few others from work where he told you you could call him Frank, if you wanted to (of course you did). A late night grocery store trip when you mentioned you weren't sure if your bus could get you there before it closed and he offered to drive. Texting about non-work-related topics. Passing comments about how the two of you should go do this, or go see that, someday. Talking on the phone at midnight when he agreed to take a night shift from Shen and was bored on his break while Abby was fast asleep (making you feel too dirty afterwards to ever go to bed yourself).

You swallowed your feelings daily, an ever-present ache whose intensity swelled every time Langdon came within your presence. Sometimes you had to avoid eye contact, feeling like you might choke if you kept it up any longer.

Your sole solace throughout all this was, strangely, the fact that he was married. You could console yourself with the delusion that the only reason your feelings weren't reciprocated was because he was already in a relationship. It wasn't personal - you were simply just too late.

But now, that comfort was gone. An illusion dissipating to reveal the hard truth of reality - that Frank only saw you as a friend.

There would, mercifully, be a transitional period where he would adjust to single-life, settling into his new home and becoming comfortable with his custody agreement. However, he would eventually venture back out into dating, and that thought made your chest tighten even more.

They wouldn't be you. They'd flourish in your deficits. Complete opposites in both superficial appearance and core, unchangeable character. He would confide in you about his dates, as you were his close, trusted friend. It'd make you feel sick and dirty, having to take information about his private relationships and feelings into the same mind that has carried out endless (and sometimes deeply vulgar) fantasies about him, all the while keeping a kind and unbothered face outwardly.

Eventually, he would settle on one. She'd be perfect. He would come into work talking about how birds helped her get ready in the morning, before she made him breakfast and headed off to some highly-skilled and/or magnanimous job (when she could have easily become a model, of course).

Your other co-workers would already be gushing about how much happier Frank seems before they even met her. Effortlessly, she would mend the relationship between him and Santos (a stinging burn in the face of your many failed attempts). His kids would love her and she'd get along great with Abby. Maybe she'd even introduce Abby to someone, then they'd all get married at a joint ceremony and be a big, beautiful, blended family while you sob so hysterically in the audience that they need to have you taken to psychiatric care (where she and Frank would visit you, with non-judgemental smiles, a bouquet of flowers from their garden, and some muffins she baked. Eventually, they'd arrive with an ultrasound image and you'd be permanently committed).

You blinked rapidly with your stinging eyes, stopping the vicious scribbles you were making in your notebook to take a sip of your water. Perhaps, you were being a bit dramatic.

Beyond the news about Langdon, the day passed relatively normally, by ER standards. You even managed to do well-enough with one patient that she went out of her way to let Dana and Robby know how wonderful you had been with her (you simply had managed to ramble enough to completely distract the woman from the procedures going on. You were just thankful you hadn't distracted Garcia too much in the process).

Your main way of coping (or, at least, avoiding being pathetically obvious about the chaotically wide range of emotions you were feeling that day) was to avoid Langdon at all costs. Unfortunately, that was impossible, given that you did have two cases together. But you kept your interactions as short as possible, zipping out of rooms as soon as professionally appropriate.

You didn't want to avoid him forever. But you thought (a.k.a. desperately hoped) that a little bit of distance might do you some good. Give yourself some space to cool. Maybe if he stopped being everywhere, he would also stop being everything.

Eventually, you could no longer fight the need to slink down to the ambulance bay for a moment of peace and quiet. Deep into autumn, the sun had already begun to set too soon, the cool evening air illuminated by the warm outdoor lights. Wrapping your sweater around yourself a little tighter, you found yourself slipping down towards the grass just off to the side, sinking against the wall, pulling your knees up to rest your arms and face upon them.

You were too scared of falling asleep to shut your eyes, simply taking deep breaths to try and absorb the calmness of the atmosphere. You wanted it to seep into your brain, make your mind clear and empty, a place where bad things come and go with no permanent effect.

"Hey."

Of course. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal.

"Hey." Your voice sounded weak. You bit the inside of your cheek as admonishment.

"It'll be your fault if I sit in dog shit, you know," he said, as he plopped down beside you.

"Who'd take a dog on a walk to the hospital?"

"St. Bernards with big dreams for their pups?" You snorted at the dumb joke, giving him ease to continue. "Are you doing okay?"

Your eyebrows shot up. "Am I doing okay?" You wince. "Sorry, I shouldn't have- that was rude of me, I mean to- "

Frank laughed lightly. "It's fine. And I'm fine, more or less. It's just- " he stopped and shook his head gently. "But are you? You've been a bit... I don't know, off, today. Maybe a little sad?" he added, tentatively. "Just wanted to check-in. It's alright if you don't want to talk. And if I'm wildly off-base, you can..."

"Find the parting gift of a hopeful dog?" You stop looking at him. "And..." you swallow thickly. "I guess it's just one of those days, you know?"

Frank hummed in response and was silent for a moment. You could still feel his eyes on you, gently taking you in for an assessment. When he looked away, he spoke. "You know this is my first time ever living alone?"

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Family to roommates to Abby to Abby and the kids. Now just me. And sometimes the kids."

"Oh? Do you guys already have worked out how...?"

"Whenever I get a day on the weekend off, they can come sleepover. Just signed a lease on a two-bedroom. Bunkbed. Hopefully won't result in me having to take them to work on my night off. And when I'm off during the week, I can come over early in the morning to help get Tanner ready for school, spend the day with Penny, and pick him up later on."

"Oh? So are you and Abby still..." you trail off, searching for how to describe it.

"We're still friends. The love part... that's been over for longer than we had been wanting to admit. Long before I went to rehab. If anything, going through with the divorce has only helped us get closer."

Here you were, fretting all day over your friend's potential future love life, while his ex-wife - whom had an actual reason to be invested - was likely nothing but supportive. You could see her coming to the wedding. The narrative you'd developed earlier in the day - their joint ceremony and your commitment to a mental hospital - rushed back.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. What happened to acting like a normal friend?

You really needed a break.

"How's the rest of your family reacting to it?" Your mind slips to when Frank had shown you pictures from when he recently took his kids to see his parents upstate. A little stiff and formal-looking, but you could see the warmth that radiated from within the stony exterior.

Just like their son.

You couldn't believe the perception of Frank that people had of him sometimes. From the moment you met, you felt you could trust him. Perhaps that could have just been pretty privilege overriding your other senses, but over the past two years, your opinion of him never dampened once. Even when his addiction and how he'd been accessing benzos came to light, all your emotional energy was focused on concern for his wellbeing.

"My parents were worried about me relapsing, though that seems to be where everybody's mind went. Robby checked every prescription I gave out today."

"I'm sorry." You snuck a glance at his side-profile, tracing your eyes over the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips. His blue (blue, so blue) eyes turned to you, and you reflexively smiled. He smiled back.

"I would do the same. It eventually blew over before. I just have to wait it out. Though you may have to provide an alibi for me later to prove I hadn't snuck off to the bathroom to do lines."

You held up three fingers for scout's honour. "I promise to make sure everyone knows we were getting drunk out n' proud in the open."

"And my sister has been pretty supportive to both Abby and I. Though she called today to ask if I remembered her friend Lola from high school, since she just moved to Pittsburgh."

Your heart panged. Reconnections are always beautiful love stories. And she already gets along with his family! It writes itself.

"Do you? Remember her?" you ask tentatively, fearing his response. Of course, she was the most beautiful girl in the whole school. I always had a crush on her - but then again, who didn't?

"Sure, sort of. They were close, so she was around the house every now and then. But not really my type, you know?" Frank laughed a little and put his head against the wall as he looked up to the darkening sky. "She - Madeleine, my sister - is coming down for a few days soon. To help me and the kids settle in a bit. 'Add normalcy,' she said. And to see Lola. I suspect I'll be dragged to at least one outing where Mads mysteriously has to leave early. You'd like her, though."

You scrunch your nose. "Lola?"

"No, Madeleine. I feel like you've got quite a bit in common." He returned to looking at you, calm and easy. "She thinks I should throw some sort of house-warming party. Which, again, could secretly be a speed-dating event in disguise. Would you come if you're not working?"'

The thought of playing his wing-woman made you feel somewhat ill. "Yeah, of course." After a moment of silence, you added, "Are you thinking of dating already?"

"God, I don't know. I'm going to need your help with that, probably."

"Me?" An unfortunate squeak came with your voice.

"I haven't been with anyone but Abby since we started dating in 2016. So... wow, ten years. I don't even know where I'd start. You use the apps, yeah?"

"Not in awhile. Busy with work, and all." And being desperately in love with you. "Maybe not for a year?" Again, a risk looking at him resulted in you getting caught in his gaze, unable to draw yourself away yet. "Have you ever used them?"

He nodded. "They started to get big when I was in my early-twenties. I had some one-off dates, but never anything serious."

"How did you meet Abby, then?" You turned pink. "Sorry, again, maybe not best time to ask that sort of thing."

"No- no, it's alright. I don't mind if it's you." He developed a fond smile before he recounted the memory, and you felt another flash of jealousy. "I'd been on a run and stopped in a park to take a breather, when I saw her and her dog, Chips, also taking a break. I walked up and asked if I could pet him, saying how much fun it must be to run with a dog. And she offered to let me join them. And then..." he trailed off, gaze momentarily distant.

You pictured the park. An early summer morning, with crisp air and cheery bird chirps. Frank's charming smile. Abby's ease and confidence - zero hesitation to take the opportunity to get to know a handsome stranger. Neither were sweaty. They glistened in the morning sun. Later that evening, they glittered in the night, as natural as the stars in the sky.

You blinked rapidly. They're divorced, you reminded yourself. You really did need a rest from Langdon. And from your own mind.

"...you still there?" Frank was giving you a worried look.

"Sorry, just tired. Long day. That's a very sweet way to meet someone. I bet you'll do just fine without the apps, if you don't want to navigate them. I think 'handsome doctor' is a pretty common desire amongst women." You flushed darkly with embarrassment, realising what you'd just said.

He seemed to be looking directly into your soul, voice laden with amusement and... something else, "Has that been your observation?"

"... I know quite a few women."

"And how many handsome doctors?"

Your brain short-circuited trying to think of a response that was light, easy, and conveyed that you were 100% not desperately in love with him. "Uh- um..."

Frank laughed and leapt to his feet, holding out a hand for you to take. "Come on, let's go back inside and do a headcount."

Without thinking, you took his hand and shakily came to your feet. You kept holding his hand for several seconds longer than necessary, hurriedly dropping it once you realised you were already walking. Unbothered, Frank used his now free-hand to guide you by the elbow out of the way of the paramedics and newly arrived ambulance. This touch, too, lingered longer than necessary, but you very much did not mind, choosing to cherish what you could have.

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