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July 4th, 2026; 5:30 pm
There were many things Frank Langdon didn’t expect walking into his first shift back at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.
He didn’t expect anyone to welcome him back, until Mel exclaimed his name and reached for his arm. He didn’t expect the systems to shut down to prevent a possible cyber attack. He didn’t expect to meet and treat Becca King. He didn’t expect that in treating Becca King, he’d find out she had a boyfriend and was sexually active. He didn’t expect to learn this information before Becca’s own sister did.
He really didn’t expect Mel to start yelling at her sister in a patient room when she found out.
Mel didn’t seem like she had the ability to raise her voice above her normal speaking tone. Even with patients who deserved a raised voice, she’d never cracked, never gone a decibel higher than what he was used to hearing from her.
She was having a rough day, probably worse than her first one, which included a DFS visit on one of her first patients, a drowned child, PittFest, and the case that led to her deposition today. He understood that she was under an immense amount of stress; her capability as a doctor was being called into question by lawyers who didn’t know their ass from their elbow.
He’d been deposed before, it was nothing new for a doctor or for PTMC. But for someone like Mel–someone who wanted to be the best doctor, who thrived on excellence and praise–it felt earth-shattering. Add her morning of being pushed by a patient, talking to police about it, the system shutdown, the deposition, the influx of patients from Westbridge and the water slide collapse, and now her sister being in the emergency room with this certain diagnosis. . .
Mel King was having a bad day.
Still, that didn’t give her the right to yell at her sister–his patient–like this.
He tried to stop it before it started. He could hear the first tinges of anger in her voice, the threat that this was about to spiral out of control.
“Mel,” he tried. “Why don’t we step outside for a minute.” A statement, not a question.
She doesn’t even hear him. Rising to her feet, her voice finally raises, thick with anger. “Why won’t you tell me?!”
Becca immediately shies away, looking down, trying to contain tears.
Frank remembered Mel telling him ten months ago that the emergency room can be an overstimulating place for people on the spectrum, between the light and the noise. He also remembered Mel telling him that her sister was on the spectrum, and it was part of the reason they moved to Pittsburgh–the center in North Hills was great and had a spot for Becca.
Frank had tried to make this experience as easy on Becca as possible, not just for her as the patient, but to put Mel’s mind at ease as well. He wanted to show Mel that she had made an impact on him, gave him the tools to be a better doctor, that he remembered. It’s why he turned the lights off for her this morning, why he asked Mel to turn the lights in Becca’s room off as she was leaving. He took the time to reassure Becca that what she was experiencing was normal, but still needed to be fixed. He brought her four different drink options and crushed her pills to powder so she could take them easier.
He’d like to think it was all of these extra steps that made Becca feel comfortable confiding in him. That, and the knowledge that anything she said to him stayed between the two of them–Mel didn’t have to know anything Becca didn’t want her to. That was the beauty of HIPAA.
Mel, however, did not see it that way. She came back rattled from her deposition and her first instinct was to find him to see what was going on with Becca. Frank watched the confusion settle on her face as he told her he couldn’t disclose Becca’s diagnosis. Yes, Mel was her caretaker, but Becca was his patient, and she had the same rights all his other patients did.
Another doctor–a lesser doctor–would’ve disclosed it to Mel without a second thought. They would’ve seen Becca as a care receiver incapable of making her own decisions, someone who didn’t fully grasp her actions and needed to be coddled. But Becca wasn’t any of those things. Was she a care receiver, yes, but she was still her own person capable of thoughts and decision making. She just needed a little extra help sometimes. Her place on the spectrum didn’t make her less of a person, it just meant she was a little different.
“Doctor King,” Frank says sternly. “Why don’t we get some air.” Another statement.
Mel finally turns her attention away from Becca. “What? No. This is between me and my sister. If you want to leave, go right ahead.”
He knows he shouldn’t do it, absolutely, never in a million years, do what he’s about to do. But for everyone’s sake, Mel needed to be out of that room and she was not going to leave willingly.
His dad instincts kick in, the same instincts he gets when one of his kids get overstimulated in the grocery store and can’t do anything other than scream.
She’s not expecting it, which makes it slightly easier. She doesn’t have time to process and fight back before his hands are on her waist and her feet are off the ground. He doesn’t say anything to Becca as he puts Mel over his shoulder and exits the room.
Here’s where the fun began. There was no way to get Mel outside without drawing the attention of every single person in the emergency department. He had to walk right past Central–past Dana and Perlah and Princess–past patient rooms and the lounge to get to the ambulance bay. He could just put her down here and walk close enough behind her that she couldn’t go back into Becca’s room, but this way ensured she made it outside for a breather.
He could just bring her to the staff lounge, it was closer than outside. But he could tell she needed to be away from everyone.
Mel finally realizes what’s happening, that she’s being treated like a child throwing a tantrum, and doubles down.
“Frank Langdon, put me down, right now,” she says in the same angry tone she used on Becca.
He locks eyes with Dana as he walks past Central. Her eyes go wide, her mouth opens like she’s about to speak, but ultimately she decided against it. Dana has too much to worry about right now, she can’t find the energy to deal with these two. She’ll figure it out later.
Frank gives Dana a thumbs up as he walks past, while Mel is still demanding to be put down.
Mel’s feisty, trying to wriggle herself free from his grip, but Frank is determined and his dad strength has kicked in. Her scrub top and her undershirt ride up ever so slightly in her fight to be put down, so he tightens his grip on her waist. Not enough to hurt her, not enough that she even seems to notice, just enough to keep her from falling.
He knows his wedding ring is pressing into her bare skin. The ring he may or may not have been trying to hide from her all day.
The ring that may or may not mean anything anymore.
Out in the ambulance bay, he finally sets her on her own feet, close to the wall. The second her shoes touch the pavement, she sinks down, and starts crying. She pulls her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.
He sinks to her level. “Mel,” he says softly, “What’s going on?”
She doesn’t answer, just continues crying, slowly rocking herself back and forth.
“Mel,” he says a little louder. “Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Is it the deposition or is it Becca?”
She still doesn’t say anything. He remembers how calling her Doctor King snapped her attention away from yelling at Becca. Well, desperate times.
“Melissa,” he tries. It feels weird on his tongue. Mel definitely suited her better. Either way, it works. She peels her eyes away from the ground and looks at him. Her eyes are red, her cheeks tear stained. “That’s better. Now, Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “Everything. It’s just one thing after another today and it all feels so wrong.”
“Start at the top. What’s the one thing above all else that’s making you feel this way?”
She shakes her head again and flexes her fingers. “All of it. Every single thing today is piling on top of each other and I can’t sort them all out. It’s all just there in my brain and I can’t—I just can’t.”
She’s still shaking, still rocking back and forth, a little harder now. He’s worried she’s going to slam her head into the brick wall behind her.
He moves to sit next to her. All at once—he can’t tell who moved first—he’s pulling her close and she’s leaning into him. Her sobs become louder and she gasps for breath.
“Baby, you’ve gotta calm down for me. Please, Mel, I need you to breathe.”
He knows the words register in her mind, sees her try to calm herself. He knows it’s not something that can happen in a split second, but he needs to get her regulated.
Then the one person that could make this whole thing worse comes out to the ambulance bay: Robby.
Frank watches as Robby processes the scene: Mel, crying, curled into him; his arms around her tight, no intention of letting go.
He knows none of this looks great; but he also knows he doesn’t care. Mel needs him, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let Robby of all people ruin this, make her feel worse.
He’s already on Robby’s shit list, has been for the better part of the last year, will be for the foreseeable future. What’s a little more fuel to the fire? Robby’s leaving tonight anyway.
Frank looks directly into Robby’s eyes and gives him a look that says you need to walk the fuck away right now.
And, surprisingly, Robby does.
He pulls Mel somehow even closer and starts doing a breathing exercise he learned in rehab. It takes a minute, but she finally times her breaths with his, starts shaking a little less.
“I don’t know who I am without Becca. I’ve been taking care of her for so long, it’s everything I am,” she says quietly when she’s calmed down enough.
“Becca’s not going anywhere. She still needs you, but she needs her own independence too. There are people here that need you to take care of them. So many people here that would kill to have you as their doctor. You’re smart, you’re compassionate, you’re the best of all of us. Do not think for one second anything those stupid fucking lawyers upstairs said is true. It could not be farther from the truth.”
Her eyes are still red when she lifts her head to look at him. Her cheeks are still tear stained, but no new tears are falling. Small victories.
“Do you mean it?” She asks in a small voice.
“Every word. And as for you, we’ll figure out who you are. You don’t need to do it all today, it’s gonna take time. But we’ll get there.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. I’m gonna be there with you every step of the way. Starting with you apologizing to your sister. I know you’re having a bad day, but she didn’t deserve that. I know you’re worried about her, and you’re always going to worry about her. But this is her first time living too. Give her a little grace.”
“I just can’t believe she has a boyfriend and didn’t tell me. I mean, she told you before she told me.” Mel finally cracks the smallest smile. More small victories.
“I know. Plus, she was just about to tell me all of the nice things you’ve been saying about me.”
”Oh god,” Mel says, burying her face in her hands. “Can you forget she said that? And pretty much everything else she said?”
He pulls her hands away from her face, puts a finger under her chin, and tilts her head up so he can look into her eyes.
”No, Sweetheart, I can’t.”
He then does the second thing he knows he shouldn’t, absolutely, never in a million years do. He leans closer and presses a kiss to her forehead, long and lingering. Mel shudders under his touch.
He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tear remnants from her cheeks. She smiles, a full, big, bright smile. The same one she gave him this morning when she saw him for the first time in ten months. The same one that makes his heart burst every single time.
“Are you ready to go back in?” He asks.
She takes a deep breath. “No. But I know that I have to.”
He nods and stands first, before offering her a hand. She takes it and he can just make out the subtle squeeze she gives.
He puts a hand on the small of her back to guide her back in, so she can’t turn and run back outside.
She pauses outside of the door to Becca’s room. The lights are still off, and Frank can see Becca twiddling her thumbs through the window.
”I think,” Mel says, turning to him. “I think I need to do this alone.”
”Of course. I’ll be at the desk. If you need me, come get me.”
Mel nods, takes another deep breath, and enters Becca’s room.
Frank walks over to Central, in a spot where he can sort of see through the small door window.
“Do I want to know what the hell that was?” Dana asks.
“No, probably not.”
She considers this. “Did it work?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
He sees Dana examining his hands out of the corner of his eye. He sees when she can’t find what she’s looking for.
“You looked real comfortable with Doctor King there.” A statement, not a question.
Princess and Perlah aren’t too far behind her, not doing a good job of pretending they’re not eavesdropping. He doesn’t know why they still pretend. Maybe he does. He’d done a fair bit of pretending today, too.
Frank shrugs. Through the door window, he sees Mel give Becca a hug.
“Maybe I did,” he says.
And if his wedding ring is now sitting in a bush in the ambulance bay, where hopefully a crow will find it and treat it as a shiny new treasure, then so be it. You can’t lose something you weren’t meant to have.