frank hadn’t thought he’d ever see you again. not when he gave you a hug goodbye in your room in the rehab centre. not since he rubbed your back as you sniffled into his shoulder. he had picked up his bags and got into his car, and he thought that was that.

well, clearly not.

because you’re here. standing in front of him as dana introduces you as the new nurse joining the pitt, and frank feels sick more than he feels relief.

the relief is the first thing he feels when his eyes meet yours, like they did so many times in the rehab centre. he sought out those eyes everyday. sat with you everyday. lied in bed with you, flat on his back as you whispered your darkest secrets to each other like teenagers instead of a newly-divorced, addict resident doctor and a depressed, closed off nurse. but you wasn’t closed off — not around frank. you bore all to him. everything that had led you to the rehab centre. and he had done the same, told you everything. it wasn’t just solidarity. it was understanding. it was connection.

but the sickness comes after. because you know his darkest secrets. how he feels the cravings the most in the morning. how he nearly over dosed while home alone with his son. how he felt like there was no way out for him. nobody knows that about him. he’s never told anyone the things he told you. and selfishly? frank was under the impression he’d never see you again. that it was a fleeting friendship, a once in a lifetime connection he made that would impact him for life and that was that.

but no. because life is never that simple.

he nods along as dana explains how you’re starting here and how to be nice, but all frank can think about is the fact that he knows everything about you.

and you know everything about him.

and that’s the most frightening thought he’s ever had. so he nods along. listens. and when dana leaves? frank can’t find his words.