Chapter Text
Frank slammed his locker shut and pushed himself back upright. His back screamed at the movement, pushed well past its limit after having spent the last 12 hours on his feet, bent over gurneys, and transferring patients. He let himself fall back against the opposite wall, breathing through the pain until the tension subsided. God, it really was his luck that he got assigned a bottom locker after his return. Finally, the pain eased to a manageable level, and he could head home. He should head home. He wanted to head home, really, where Abby would have a warm meal ready for him, and Tanner would be excited to tell him all about the shark facts he'd learned that day. But instead his house would be empty when he got back, filled with nothing but dark, quiet rooms and loud thoughts.
Abby needed space, she'd said last night, to cool off after their fight, so she'd packed their bags this morning and taken the kids and the dog over to her parent's place across town for the week. Tanner and Penny hadn't even been awake yet when he left for work this morning, and he already missed them. How was he supposed to make it through a whole week on his own? Maybe he should find an NA meeting to attend tonight. He didn't usually attend meetings on Saturdays, he'd gone to one of his regular meetings just the day before, right after work and before the fight, but it would take him out of his head for a bit.
His phone dinged with a notification as he pulled it out of his pocket. An alert for his and Abby's anniversary next month. It was one of the many notifications he'd set up for each major milestone, making sure he couldn't forget. After the third time he'd forgotten some anniversary or another, he'd given in and accepted that he couldn't control what his brain did and didn't decide to remember and scheduled the alerts. He tried not to think about what it meant that he didn't need the same reminders for his kid's birthdays.
"Any special plans for dinner, Dr. Langdon?"
Frank was shocked out of his thoughts by a somehow still bright-eyed Mel, who had apparently snuck up on him.
"Uhhhh, no, not really. Abby's at her parents with the kids, so I need to fix something for myself tonight. Probably just takeout."
"Well, if you don't have any plans tonight you could come over to my place for dinner? Becca cancelled our plans to hang out with Adam tonight, so now I have too many groceries- If you want, that is, of course. No-No pressure."
"Oh, that's really generous of you, but I should be heading home."
To silence. To memories of laughter and warmth. He twisted his wedding ring back and forth, trying to dissipate the anxiety brought up at the thought.
"Actually, on second thought, I think I'll take you up on that offer. Thanks."
After finishing dinner - a pasta alfredo that was deceptively good for how easy it had been to put together - they found themselves on Mel's couch, both happy to make use of the opportunity to watch a non-PG movie. Hanging out with Mel was... comfortable in a way he hadn't expected. He hadn't been sure how their dynamic as co-workers would translate outside the walls of the Pitt, but it turned out that they had plenty in common outside of work, such as their shared love of history. He'd have to send her the information on Bushy Run's next reenactment once it was announced. It was maybe a little grittier than a ren faire, but the cultural immersion it offered was like nothing else he'd ever experienced.
"Thanks again for coming over, Frank. I'm still not really used to spending so much time on my own now that Becca's at Middle Hill full time."
"No, no, thank you for inviting me over. I... don't think it would have been good for me to be alone tonight, honestly."
Frank couldn't quite meet Mel's gaze at that confession, eyes trained on the credits still rolling on the TV. Thankfully, Mel never made a big deal out of eye contact.
"Do Abby and your children visit your in-laws often?"
Mel sounded hesitant, probably wanting to know more about why he was alone at home but scared to cross boundaries. Frank looked back at her, intending to wave away her concerns, but his words fell flat at her earnest, worried expression. Well, his therapist had been urging him to open up to his friends about things he might be struggling with, maybe he should give it a shot.
"Not usually, no. We had a fight, yesterday. She wants some space to cool down."
"That sounds like a pretty serious fight. Is everything okay?"
Frank blew out a breath. Yeah, it had been.
"She thinks I've been distant. Complained about me never being home and never making time for her anymore. Which, yes, I have been busy now that I'm back at work, and going to therapy and four NA meetings a week. But those are important for my sobriety, you know? I try to make time where I can, but it's hard sometimes. The last year has just been- it's exhausting, okay? And I just- I don't have the energy to indulge her rom-com fantasies right now."
"I hope you didn't phrase it like that with her."
He had. It had been a stupid thing to say, in hindsight, but it was the truth. Between the long shifts, pushing through pain and cravings, and cracking himself open in therapy and meetings, both physical and mental exhaustion had become his baseline. When he was home, he wanted to sit with his kids or curl up on the couch with Abby, talking shit about the contestants of whatever reality show she was watching, not dress up for a candle-lit dinner or drive all the way to the cinema down town to watch a movie they could have seen at home.
"Yeah, that one didn't land well." He admitted with a sigh. "I just don't see why it's such a big deal to her. Shouldn't keeping up my sobriety be a little more important than date night right now?"
Mel seemed to consider his words carefully, frown lines forming between her eyebrows.
"You know how I reacted really poorly when I found out Becca had a boyfriend? And that she was having sex with him?"
He nodded, remembering how she'd freaked out two months ago, immediately assuming worst case scenarios and trying to gain control of her sister's life when there was really nothing unusual going on.
"Part of the reason I reacted so poorly was because I hadn't really realised that that was something she wanted. Sex, I mean, I knew about the boyfriend part. I know, theoretically, that most people my age feel the need to have sex, but... I don't, probably because I am asexual. And I guess I had kind of projected that onto Becca as well. So when she mentioned she was having sex, it completely blindsided me, and I made all sort of assumptions about Adam instead of considering that she simply wanted to. Maybe... Maybe the reason you struggle to understand Abby's needs is because you don't experience them yourself?"
"What, like that 'women from Venus, men from Mars' saying?" He asked, somewhat confused. He hadn't taken her as the kind of person to buy into that stuff.
"Oh, no, that's complete nonsense. I mean, maybe you don't have the same needs as Abby because you don't have some of the same feelings? Have you ever heard of the aromantic spectrum?"
Frank's thoughts skipped a beat processing Mel's words. Not having romantic feelings for Abby? That was ridiculous. Right? He loved his wife. She was his confidante, his rock. She was his home.
"No that's- that's ridiculous. I love Abby. It isn't like that."
Maybe his tone was too harsh, if the way Mel curled in on herself was anything to go by. He should probably apologise for snapping at her, but when he tried to reach inside himself for some sincerity, the emotion seemed to slip through his fingers. He let the moment pass instead, the conversation dragging out into uncomfortable silence.
"I should probably go. Thanks for dinner, Mel, and for hanging out."
"Uhm, yeah- yeah, of course. Any time, uhm- Dr. Langdon."
His exit felt stilted in a way the rest on the evening hadn't, and it sat in his stomach as he drove home. Had he overreacted at Mel's suggestion? Shaking his head, he put the thought aside and focused on getting home.
The sound of the door closing seemed to echo through the hallway. He already hated the way silence seemed to ring through the empty rooms, no welcome greeting yelled from deeper in the house, no pitter-patter of small feet or paws rushing to greet him. It made him feel hollowed out himself, like Abby had taken his insides with her when she left. He dragged a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands to try and pull himself away from the feeling. He should head to bed and try to sleep through the silence.
And yet, by the time he was lying in bed, alone, it wasn't the silence that echoed in his ears. It was Mel's words about Abby's romantic needs, and why he might struggle to understand them.