Chapter Text
Frank se despertó sobresaltado.
El timbre del apartamento sonaba insistentemente, despertándolo bruscamente del profundo sueño en el que se había sumido casi inmediatamente después de regresar de su sesión con el terapeuta. Le tomó unos segundos orientarse; la habitación aún estaba oscura, las cortinas mal cerradas dejaban pasar apenas un rayo anaranjado del atardecer, y le dolía el cuello por haberse quedado dormido en una posición incómoda sobre la cama.
Con un suspiro de cansancio, se sentó en el borde y cogió su teléfono.
17:55.
El timbre volvió a sonar.
Largo.
Insistente.
Dejó caer la cabeza hacia atrás.
"Espero que no sea Shen otra vez...", murmuró con voz ronca.
Se puso de pie arrastrando los pies y recorrió el pequeño apartamento, aún medio dormido. El lugar seguía pareciéndole extraño incluso después de semanas viviendo allí: demasiado silencioso cuando los niños no estaban, demasiado pequeño para todos los pensamientos que albergaba en su interior.
Miró por la mirilla, esperando ver a John con alguna bolsa grasienta de comida para llevar.
Pero la imagen del otro lado lo dejó paralizado por un segundo.
Y entonces sonrió; una sonrisa sincera. La primera en días.
Abrió la puerta rápidamente.
"De ninguna manera... ¿qué haces aquí?"
Ni siquiera esperó respuesta. La abrazó con fuerza. Aurora soltó una risita mientras le devolvía el abrazo con intensidad.
"John dijo que estarías en casa para esta hora."
Frank se apartó un poco, sin soltarla todavía por los hombros, como si necesitara comprobar que ella estaba realmente allí.
"No, quiero decir sí... la sesión era a las doce, pero quiero decir, ¿qué haces en Pittsburgh? Dios mío... ¿cuándo llegaste? No, espera... ¿cuánto tiempo te quedas?"
Aurora le dio un golpecito juguetón en el pecho.
"¿Me vas a dejar respirar o vamos a tener esta conversación en el pasillo?"
Frank parpadeó varias veces y se hizo a un lado rápidamente.
"Vale, vale, perdón. Pase."
Aurora entró, observando discretamente el apartamento. No dijo nada, pero Frank vio cómo sus ojos recorrían las paredes desnudas, el viejo sofá, las cajas aún sin desempacar y la atmósfera lúgubre que parecía haberse instalado allí permanentemente.
"No es el mejor sitio...", dijo, incómodo. "Pero es lo que puedo permitirme para estar cerca de los niños."
Aurora se volvió hacia él inmediatamente.
"No tienes que explicarme nada, Frankie."
Y ahí estaba de nuevo: esa sensación de calma. Aurora siempre tenía esa extraña habilidad para hacer que se sintiera menos avergonzado de existir.
Ella le tomó la mano con naturalidad y lo condujo al sofá. Se sentaron uno frente al otro, con las manos aún entrelazadas. Frank no hizo ningún esfuerzo por soltarla. Necesitaba el calor humano más de lo que estaba dispuesto a admitir.
"Llegué temprano hoy", explicó. "No vine enseguida porque fui a ver a mis padres, y John me dijo que tenías terapia".
Frank asintió lentamente, aún asimilando su presencia. Aurora respiró hondo antes de continuar.
"Y bueno... volví definitivamente."
A sudden silence fell between them. Frank stopped breathing for a second.
"For... good?"
Aurora nodded slowly, and he understood immediately. Guilt rushed in so fast it almost made his stomach turn.
"Aurora, no. No, you can’t do that," he objected right away. "You’re doing amazing out there. You built your whole life in San Jose—your career, your friends... you can’t come back because of this."
Panic began to creep into his voice. She squeezed his hand firmly before he could spiral any further.
"Don’t be an idiot, Frank."
Her tone wasn't cruel; it was firm. Enough to stop him in his tracks.
"You’re my best friend. My lifelong best friend," she said, keeping her eyes locked on his. "You’re practically my brother. Of course I’m not going to leave you alone when you need me most."
Frank swallowed hard as she began to gently stroke the back of his hand. A small, familiar, and grounding gesture.
"I want to be here with you."
Frank shook his head slightly, feeling his breath begin to crack.
"You don’t have to take care of me... I’m not a child, Aurora."
She offered a faint smile—sad, tired, yet full of affection.
"I know that very well, Frankie. But even adults need to be taken care of sometimes."
And that was enough to break him. The tears came without warning, violent and unstoppable.
Ever since Trinity Santos had walked into the emergency room at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, it felt like his entire life had gone downhill.
Robby’s disappointed look when he opened the locker, Abby’s silent rage, and the confusion in his children's eyes. It all came rushing back at once. His breathing grew ragged, and Frank ended up bending over himself, unable to carry the weight anymore.
Aurora didn’t hesitate for a single second. She pulled him close and held him tightly, awkwardly adjusting to balance the height difference between them. Frank clung to her just like when they were eight years old and he had broken his arm falling from a tree; just like when they were fifteen and Aurora would wake up crying from nightmares she never fully explained. It was exactly the same. And for the first time in a long time... he stopped resisting. He let out the guilt, the fear, the shame, and the grief for the life he had destroyed with his own hands.
Aurora didn’t speak, didn’t try to fix it, didn’t ask questions, and didn’t fill the silence with empty phrases. She just stayed there, and that... that was enough.
When the crying finally began to subside, Aurora slowly pulled away. She cupped his face with both hands and gently wiped away the tears that were still falling. Then, she kissed his cheeks softly, exactly the way she did with her nephews when they ended up crying after a nightmare or a fall. Frank let out a choked laugh as he realized.
"You can’t use your affectionate-aunt tactics on me..."
Aurora smiled faintly.
"And yet, they work."
She stood up for a moment to bring him a glass of water. Frank took it with both hands and drank slowly, trying to stabilize his breathing. She sat back down in front of him, but closer this time.
"Frankie... this isn’t the end." Her voice was low and soothing. She brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
"Your life isn’t collapsing. Everything you built is still there... it’s just messy right now."
Frank closed his eyes, listening to her.
"You’re a good man who made bad decisions," she continued. "But that doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you human."
He clenched his jaw. A part of him desperately wanted to believe her. Because if there was one person in the world who truly knew him, it was Aurora. They had known each other since they were seven, had grown up together, and had seen each other at their worst. And yet, they were still here.
"Look at me." The firmness in her voice forced him to open his eyes.
"I fucked up..." he whispered, his voice cracking.
Aurora gave a gentle nod.
"Yes. You fucked up."
Frank let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Thanks."
"But we all fuck up at some point, Frank. The difference is what you do next."
She held his gaze, refusing to let him look away.
"Do you want to fix it? Do you want to get better? Do you want to recognize yourself again?"
Frank swallowed hard.
"I want my life back... I want to be myself again."
Aurora squeezed his hand.
"Then that is exactly what you’re going to do, and I’ll be right by your side."
The certainty in her voice was absolute, as if failure wasn’t even an option.
"You are not going through this alone, sweetheart."
Frank let her hug him again, this time without desperation, just out of pure need. He rested his forehead against her shoulder and took a deep breath, slowly feeling the pressure in his chest begin to ease.
The room was still small, the apartment was still awful, and his life was still in pieces. But for the first time in weeks... the future didn’t seem completely empty.
"I love you," he murmured against her shoulder.
Aurora closed her eyes for just a second.
"I love you too, Frankie."
************************
"Didn't you have a shift?" Frank asked later, watching John set bags of takeout on the tiny coffee table.
"Collins swapped with me," Shen replied with his usual calmness as he started taking out containers of Chinese food.
Frank offered a simple, "Ah."
"I thought it would be a good idea for us to eat together," John continued, looking over at Aurora as she emerged from the kitchen with glasses and silverware. "Are you still eating meat?"
"Yep."
"Excellent."
They settled in as best they could around the makeshift table. The apartment was cramped, uncomfortable, and ugly, but for the first time since Frank had moved in, the place felt inhabited. Alive.
"Have you told him the good news yet?" Shen asked. He tried to sound casual, but the spark in his eyes completely gave him away. Aurora took a sip of water before replying.
"We hadn’t gotten to that part yet."
Frank frowned.
"What thing? What good ne...?"
The question died in his throat because he saw John’s face, then Aurora’s, and it clicked.
"No... wait. Are you going to work at the hospital?"
Aurora smiled.
"They confirmed my position in the ER last week."
The excitement on Shen's face spiked instantly.
"She starts on the day shift," he chimed in before Aurora could keep talking. "With Robinavitch."
Frank felt a slight shiver at the mention of his mentor's last name. Aurora noticed his reaction but kept going just the same.
"We'll see if Robby is as brilliant as you say, Frankie."
Shen let out a chuckle.
"Abbott is brilliant too. You should come to the night shift."
"Robby has a lot of experience," Frank countered automatically. "You learn something new with him every single shift."
"Yeah, well, Abbott has military experience," John shot back. "That man could amputate your leg with a spoon and still look attractive doing it."
Frank burst out laughing. Aurora watched them, amused.
"I didn't know you guys were in love with your bosses."
"Well... Abbott is objectively handsome," Shen replied with absolute seriousness. "If I were gay, I'd probably flirt with him."
Frank laughed again while Aurora shook her head.
"Anyway," she continued, "I start in two weeks. Robinavitch will be my direct boss, but they told me I might rotate to the night shift later on."
"And where are you going to stay?" Frank asked. "With your parents or with this idiot?"
He tossed a napkin at Shen before gesturing around the apartment.
"Because honestly, I can't recommend this dump."
"I'm not staying with my parents," Aurora replied, eating calmly. "I want healthy boundaries with my family."
"How mature."
"When I say healthy boundaries, I mean them respecting my personal space before I end up punching one of my brothers."
John let out a nasal laugh.
"So you’re going to rent a place."
Aurora placed her utensils on the table and looked at both of them.
"Actually... I wanted to ask you guys something."
Frank raised an eyebrow.
"Would you be interested in living with me?"
Silence.
"The house my godfather left me became vacant last month," she continued. "It’s big, it has plenty of space... and we could adapt it for the kids."
She looked directly at Frank as she said that.
And he immediately understood everything that offer implied. Space, companionship, help. A real place for his kids. The rational part of his brain wanted to accept instantly, but that other voice showed up right away. The ugly, constant one. It’s charity. She doesn't trust you. She wants to keep an eye on you. Shen’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts.
"I think it’s an excellent idea," John said. "I’m in."
Frank looked at him. Shen gave a slight shrug.
"I want to go back to a house where there are people. Conversations. Lights on. Noise in the kitchen... human contact, basically," he explained.
Aurora smiled.
"Just say yes, Frankie. It’s going to be fun."
Frank observed them both for several seconds. And something inside him gave way, because maybe he was broken, but he wasn’t alone anymore.
"Let’s do it."
Aurora smiled instantly. John raised his glass as if they had just sealed a historic pact. And for the first time in a long time... Frank felt like maybe there were still good things waiting for him ahead.
************************
The move was a disaster. Not a catastrophic one—the kind that ends with people screaming at each other or broken boxes in the street—but rather the exhausting, absurd type of chaos that ensues when three people try to share a house without really knowing how to coexist.
Well, in reality, the disaster had mostly been for Aurora. Frank and John only had to pack their things into boxes and move them a few blocks in a truck. Aurora, on the other hand, had to go back to San Jose, close up her life there, and drive all the way to Pittsburgh, practically crossing the entire country with a truck full of furniture, medical books, plants, clothes, and an obscene number of mugs that none of her friends understood. Four full days. Packing everything, driving, surviving on highway coffee and questionable playlists. Four days of wondering if she was truly making the right decision.
And yet, when she finally parked in front of the house and saw Frank come out first, followed by Shen with an expression of ridiculously genuine excitement, she knew she was. It had been worth it.
Even if the hell of unpacking came next. Because it was one thing to move, and a completely different thing to try to fit the lives of three people into the same space. Boxes popped up in impossible locations. John stored things without any logic. Frank tried to help but would end up freezing, staring at old photographs or getting distracted reading old clinical notes he found among loose papers.
And Aurora... Aurora threatened to kick them out of the house at least six times during the first forty-eight hours.
"Who the fuck put kitchen utensils in the bathroom?!" she yelled from the second floor.
"It was an accident!" John called back from downstairs.
"How do you accidentally mix ladles with shampoo?!"
"Life moves fast."
"I’m going to hit you."
Frank burst out laughing from the dining room, sitting among boxes that were still taped shut. For the first time in months, he sounded relaxed.
Finally, three days before Aurora officially started her job at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, the house began to feel... habitable. Not perfect, but alive. The plants were already scattered throughout the house, the kitchen had real food, the living room was full of blankets, and the constant aroma of coffee was beginning to permeate the walls. Frank was attending his sessions with a bit more spirit. And John... well, he was unbearable. His energy on the night shifts had increased so much that some of his coworkers even started asking him what he was taking. The answer was simple: he was happy. Ridiculously happy.
"Are you sure you don’t want to work the night shift?" he asked one night, for the fifth time, sitting in the foyer while tying his sneakers.
Aurora looked up from the couch. Friends was playing in the background, though neither of them was actually paying attention.
"I am completely sure."
"But we’d work together. Side by side."
Aurora let her head fall back dramatically.
"For that exact reason, John."
Shen frowned. She adjusted herself on the couch until she was looking directly at him.
"You and I get a little stupid when we’re together. Twelve hours locked up in the ER is too many hours."
"We don’t get that stupid."
Aurora stared at him in silence. He held her gaze for exactly three seconds before looking away.
"Well... not by our standards."
She let out a tired laugh.
"Exactly. And I don’t want my new coworkers thinking I'm confrontational because I slap you upside the head in the middle of a trauma bay."
"Maybe you shouldn’t hit me."
"And could you leave me alone for an entire shift?"
He opened his mouth, closed it, and then offered a faint smile. They had been living together for less than a week and they had already argued over food, fought with wooden spoons, tripped each other, and engaged in an absurd physical war using pillows while Frank watched from the armchair as if he were viewing National Geographic. Aurora raised an eyebrow.
"That’s what I thought." She turned back to the TV. "For now, I'm staying on the day shift. I need to get a feel for the hospital's rhythm first."
Shen sighed dramatically.
"Whatever you say."
He threw his backpack over his shoulder and walked over to say goodbye. Aurora barely turned her head, automatically tilting her cheek up. Shen planted a quick kiss on it before stepping back.
"I’ll leave food in the oven."
John nodded.
"And you better not come into my room when you get back."
"I make no promises."
"John."
He called something else back before heading out, but Aurora stopped listening as the phone vibró in her hands. A soft smile appeared when she saw the contact name: "Dad."
"Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, my little princess. How are you? How are the boys doing?"
Her father's voice always managed to do the same thing: make her feel at home. She curled up on the couch, idly looking at the elephant ear plant she had set up near the window the day before.
"Everything’s good over here. John just left for the hospital, and Frank should be home soon. Today was his turn to see the kids."
"And you?"
"Resting like a civilized person."
Her father let out a soft chuckle.
"When do you start at the hospital?"
Aurora rolled her eyes.
"I already told you."
"And I already told you that we old folks forget things."
"You’re not old."
"Tell that to my knees."
She smiled. God, how she loved this.
"I start the day after tomorrow."
"Perfect. Then we're having lunch tomorrow. A new Argentine steakhouse just opened up."
Aurora’s mouth watered instantly.
"Steak, yummy."
"I’ll invite your brothers. Your mother has scheduled consultations, but maybe you can do something together later."
"Last time she wanted to check out a new coffee shop. I’ll call her tomorrow."
"Very well. I won't take up any more of your time, sweetheart." Her father's voice grew even softer. "I’m glad to have you close by again."
Aurora’s chest tightened just a bit.
"Me too, Daddy."
A brief, comfortable, and familiar silence followed.
"I love you."
"I love you too, little princess. Good night."
The call ended, and the silence of the house slowly returned. She placed the phone on her chest and stared at the ceiling for several seconds. The change had been massive: a new city, a new job. Sharing a house again, being physically close to her family and Frank.
Especially Frank, because the truth was, she had come back for him. When he confessed to her about the pills, his exile from the hospital, and the issues with Abby, Aurora had felt a horrible emptiness in her stomach. Not because she believed she could fix it—she knew perfectly well she couldn't. Addictions didn’t vanish through love, friendship, or companionship. But those things did make a difference. Having someone by your side was the difference between sinking completely... or holding on for one more day. Frank had been that for her too many times in life, and now she wanted to return the favor.
As for the hospital... Yes, she was nervous. She didn't know Michael "Robby" Robinavitch personally, but she felt like she had been hearing about him for years. Frank spoke of Robby as if he were a strange mix of a mentor, a father figure, and a war hero. And Aurora understood perfectly why he was furious; if someone you trusted stole from you... the betrayal must feel brutal. Especially when that person was responsible for an entire emergency department. That was why she never truly blamed Robby. They didn't talk about him much at home; the last argument between Frank and his mentor had been devastating, with both saying horrible things.
And even though Frank feigned anger... she knew how to recognize pain when she saw it. What was truly destroying him was the possibility of never recovering that relationship.
Then there was Trinity Santos. The resident who caught him and reported everything. The topic inevitably kept coming up at the house because Frank was still furious. Neither Aurora nor Shen were willing to validate that anger.
"Frank," Shen had said one night, leaning against the kitchen counter, "she saved you."
Frank clenched his jaw immediately.
"Don’t be dramatic."
"I’m not being dramatic. You were drowning, and nobody was seeing it."
A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell. She watched them both from the table.
"Frankie... she did exactly what she had to do," she said calmly. "Our priority is always the patients. And at that moment, you were a risk factor."
Frank looked up, annoyed. Hurt.
"Thanks to her, I lost my job and my family."
And that was where Aurora lost her patience a bit.
"No. That happened because of your decisions."
The atmosphere shifted instantly; even John tensed up.
"Aurora..." he murmured cautiously.
But she was already too frustrated.
"Listen to me carefully, Frank. That girl saved your life. Because if nobody stopped you, the pills were eventually going to stop being enough."
Frank stood up abruptly.
"Excuse me?"
Aurora stood up too.
"Don’t be an idiot. You know I’m right."
"You’re supposed to be my friend."
That hurt her much more than she expected. But she still held his gaze.
"Precisely because of that, I’m not going to lie to you." The silence that followed was horrible, until John intervened before they both blew up.
"Well," he said slowly, "I think we need food before you two kill each other."
And, miraculously, that worked.
The memory made Aurora sigh. Maybe she had been too harsh, but she didn’t regret the message, only the delivery.
She then thought about Trinity Santos—how she had discovered everything so quickly—and curiosity slowly began to tickle her mind.
Frank había hablado mucho de ella y de Melissa "Mel" King. Ambas eran descritas como rápidas e inteligentes. A Santos le añadió que también eran "intensas", pero Frank seguía siendo un hombre, y cualquier mujer segura de sí misma podía ser fácilmente definida como intensa por el sexo masculino.
Aurora esbozó una leve sonrisa. Tenía muchas ganas de conocerlos; su amiga los había descrito de una manera muy entretenida.
—
Se tumbó en el sofá como un gato cansado, cogió el móvil y le envió un mensaje a Frank preguntándole a qué hora volvería. Luego se levantó y fue a la cocina a prepararse un té de manzanilla. Mañana vería a su familia y, en dos días... volvería oficialmente a urgencias. Se detuvo un instante frente a la tetera mientras la emoción empezaba a invadirla. Sonrió para sí misma.
"Tú puedes, Aurora", murmuró en español. "Eres la perra, la diva, la potra." Ella pensó por un par de segundos.
"Una rolita del Conejo Malo ya dormir." Y, honestamente... por primera vez en mucho tiempo, el futuro sonaba emocionante.