#dr Jack abbot

[science-hoes]

Maybe Jack Abbot isn’t a gruff ex-military stick in the mud like we theorized. Maybe he’s just baby girl.

[kilojulietsierra]

I Don't Have A Best Friend (Dr Abbot & Dr Robby and their 'not friends' friendship)

Summary: The universe put them together in this hell hole and they made the best of it. They are like brothers/best friends... that doesn't mean they always have to be happy about it. Especially when Jack's wife decides she needs to set Robby up with a cute nurse friend.

(Honestly this one is for fun because I love them both, but ALSO this one sets up my next fic which will be Dr Robby x Reader.)

TW: this one is honestly pretty fun, tame and fluffym sarcastic doc bros, mentions of age gap, male friendships, Jack and his wife have basically, taken Robby in like a stray puppy, nerves about being set up on blind date, Dana and Jacks wife are in cahoots, some allusions to smut, healthy established relationship, alcohol

Features Dr Jack Abbott x nursewife!ofc from "Send Me An Angel" if you would like to check that out CLICK HERE!

~~~~~

Jack and Robby stood on opposite sides of the counter as Jack packed up his bag, "Chairs is packed, no shocker there. You got homeless guy vs car in South 7 waiting to go up, West 2 is a college kid, pumped his stomach, just gotta wait for him to come back around, PD should be here soon to talk to the guy in Central 7. Strange case of selective amnesia." When Robby cocked an eyebrow Jack looked up from his phone, "Can't seem to remember how he ended up to two nine mil slugs in his leg."

Robby shook his head, "Hate when that happens. What else we got?"

Jack checked his phone again and then shoved it in his pocket, "Oh yeah, North 5, surgery should be hear any minute for him. Was cleaning the ceiling fan, naked,"

"As one does." Robby interjected.

"and fell on the TV remote."

Robby gave a low whistle and shook his head, trying not to chuckle. "Perf?"

"Lucky for him, no." Jack grabbed his truck keys and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "If the wife shows up, have someone show her up to the surg floor waiting area. He can explain it to her when he wakes up or surgery can."

"Can't wait." Robby took probably the last drink of his still hot coffee he would get then called after his colleague, "See you Sunday right?"

WIthout turning around or even slowing down his steps Jack called back a simple, "Yeah."

~~~

Robby parked in the driveway behind Jacks truck and walked in through the garage. He let himself in and called out, "Knock, knock!"

Almost immediately Sam called back, "Hey! come on in!" He found her in the living room folding a blanket and tidying up,

"Hey sweetheart." Robby walked over to her and gave her a hug which she gladly returned. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too." She tossed the blanket over the back of the couch, "Jack's out back. Make yourself at home, beer in the fridge in the garage, think he opened a bottle of bourbon too." Then she was off to some other room like she was on a mission.

Robby smiled. He had always liked Jacks wife, God knew how he found the one woman on the planet that would put up with him but he did it. He knew the way around their house so he walked to the patio door and let himself out.

The patio had a stone fireplace and a TV, some monstrosity of a grill, bbq, smoker combination and an outdoor couch and chairs. The TV was on the pregame, commentary already going, and Jack was stretched out on 'his' corner of the couch.

He looked tired, annoyed even at having to be awake while the sun was out. "Hey brother," He spared Robby only a glance then went back to the TV, "Grab a drink." Jack motioned to the bourbon on the table and the lone empty glass.

"How was last night?" Robby reached for the bottle, read it with a nod and popped the top off to pour himself a couple fingers. "Fuckin' sucked." He sipped his bourbon and sat up a little straighter on the couch, "Shen get's on my fuckin' nerves some days."

Robby lauged as he dropped down into one of the chairs, "I can see that."

"If he wasn't so damn unflappable I'd hate him." "

You hate everyone."

"I'd hate him extra."

He chuckled again and let his gaze shift to the TV, "House smells good."

Jack finally looked his way, "Sam started some chilli last night, she was off."

"Oh hell yeah." Not only did his wife have the patience of an angel and the backbone of a strongside linebacker, she could fucking cook. "Is it the one with the brisket and venison and all that?"

His friend slowly nodded.

"Hell yeah." Robby repeated himself and sipped at the bourbon.

The patio door swung open and Samantha appeared dressed in scrubs. "Alright you two play nice, don't wreck my house."

"Yes ma'am." Jack and Robby mumbled in unison.

She chuckled as she came around the couch and braced a knee on the cushion so she could lean over Jack and give him a kiss. He reached up and put a hand on her hip and chased after a second kiss. "Have a good night."

Robby had to avert his gaze to avoid feeling like a creep. "I'll try." She gave him one last kiss then stood up, Jacks hand slipping slowly from her hip as she pulled away.

"Text me when you get there." He added as he watched her walk around to the back of the couch.

"I will." She combed her fingers through her husbands curls once as she passed behind him.

Robby had to look away again to focus on the TV. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder as Sam gave it a squeeze. He gave her a smile, "Have fun." He gave it a teasing, lilty little tune as he said it and earned a grin back.

"You know I try." She gave his shoulder a last squeeze and was gone.

~~~~~~

A short while later Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket as it chimed. Sam must have made it to work. He snorted and put the phone down on the couch next to him.

"What?" Robby knew him too well, he had a bad feeling.

Jack sighed, sipped his bourbon, and never looked away from the Steelers playing. "She wants to set you up with someone."

"Jesus Jack."

"Don't bitch at me. I said she wants too, you can stay miserable and alone for all care."

"Does she really think i'm that hopeless."

"Apparently."

"Do you two, just, not remember what happened last time?" Robby kept his eyes glued to the TV, but couldn't even tell who hod possession of the ball.

Jack scoffed, "You and Collins were good." He took a sip of his drink and smirked into the glass, "Until you weren't."

"Fuck off. Besides, that ship has sailed." Robby looked down at the glass in his hand, "Just, give it a rest brother." He paused to take a sip, "We can't all find the love of our life in a war zone at 29."

His friend actually laughed, though it had a little darkness behind it, "Like a God damned fairy tale." He knocked back the last of his bourbon and sat up to stretch for the bottle.

Deciding they were committed to this conversation, because he knew good and well Sam wouldn't let it go, therefore neither could Jack, "She get's it though. Any woman I've ever… got close to… this fucking job…"

Jack looked his way with his usual frown and nodded, "This fucking job." He leaned back into the cushions, "Just let her try man. You know she won't let it go."

"Fuck me… She really thinks I'm hopeless."

"She's wanted to do it since you and Janey, but I've been holding her off."

"Gee thanks." Robby scoffs and scratches at his beard.

They were quiet for a long moment. The Steelers actually ran a touchdown, so they had something else to focus on.

Jacks phone dings again and he looks at it, his lips twitch up for barely a second as he texts her back. No doubt it's Sam. "It helps you know."

The softness in his voice catches Robby off guard. That tone is reserved for students, for kids that come in to the ER scared and hurting.

He expounded, "Havin' someone, it helps."

Robby thought long and hard, finished his own drink, and responded, "Not in my experience."

~~~~~

"What'd he say?" Sam's voice carried over the running water of the shower.

"Leeave the guy alone." Jack picked up his razor and waited before he turned it on, stood with it raised halfway to his face.

"Well, not like he's gonna do it himself."

"Babe..." He warned as be flipped the razor on and cleaned up the stubble from a couple days off in a row.

The shower shut off, "He's a great guy. He's good looking, he's intelligent, he's sweet and funny, a badass doctor.

Jack tipped his chin up to get his neck, "Somethin' I should know?" He watched her in the mirror as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel.

She gave him a look as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Shut up." She bit the back of his shoulder a little harder than necessary, then pressed a kiss to the same spot. "Do you know how many hours of my life I've spent listening to girls complain about how there's no good men left?" She watched over his shoulder as wiped his freshly shaven face, "Too many." She kissed him between the shoulder blades and squeezed him a little tighter, the fingers of her right hind tracing a shape over his hip.

He saw the thought cross her mind, her eyes giving her away as her fingers drifted a little closer towards the illiac furrow. Jack set the shaver down and caught her hand before it dipped any lower and started something they didn't have time to finish.

Behind him she grinned mischeviously and nipped at his shoulder again. WIth a hard look her way in the mirror he pulled her arms tighter around him, her damp, warm skin so soothing against his own. "We both know you're going to do it regardless of what I think."

"You know me so well." She mumbles her response into his shoulder as she hugs him tight.

~~~~~

"Wake up." Robby slapped Abbot on the chest as he took the seat next to him.

Jack, who sat slouched back in one of the conference room chairs with his arms crossed and his chin tucked to his chest, eyes closed, did not move an inch. "I'm awake."

With a chuckle Robby set the second cup of coffee he brought in front his friend. "Long night?"

"Night was fine, last hour sucked." He finally cracked his eyes open and reached for the coffee. "Cops chased a kid in a stolen car across the seventh street bridge. He 1050ed and took five other cars out with him. We saw nine MVC patients 40 minutes before end of shift."

"Love that. Weekend off?"

"Mhmm. Soon as this shit show is over." Abbot took another sip of coffee and let his eyes slip closed again as Gloria began the monthly attendings meeting. Less than two minutes into her spiel Abbot leaned over, "Why do I have to be here again?"

"Theoretically speaking," Robby whispered back, "You are in a possition of authority."

"Could've fooled me."

Robby snorted out a laugh and hid it by drinking some of his coffee. Next to him he heard a phone vibrate and he watched out the corner of his eye as Jack pulled his out and read a text. When he smirked Robby's interest piqued. Jack held his phone out to show him.

it was a text from Sam, or as the contact at the top of the screen read: Sam Abbott green heart emoji Wife/ICE. The text read, "Hope your circus monkey training goes by fast. Tell Robby she asked about him again last night."

Robby scowled, "Too early for that shit man."

"She won't let it go, you know that."

"Gentlemen," Gloria raised her voice from the head of the table. "Is my meeting interrupting your little chat?" She scolded them like boys in primary school.

With his most charming tone Robby raised his own voice to match her, "We were actually just discussing a recent study on emergency department staff burnout rates."

Jack, face stone cold and sour added without missing a beat, "It's up to fifty percent in nurses, nearly sixty in doctors. 'Case you were curious."

Robby smiled, Jack glared, and Gloria cleared her throat, "As I was saying…"

~~~~~

Robby came up to the nursing station, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. He furrowed his brow and cocked his head to one side, "You..." He pulled out one hand to point, "You do not work here."

Sam rolled her eyes and gladly accepted his hug. "Playing Uber driver. Jack's truck is in the shop." "

You mean he's not doing the work himself?"

"Don't even. It took me a week to convince him he didn't have the time and to just take it in." She leaned over the counter, "Actually...speaking of stubborn assholes..."

Robby chuckled and shook his head, "Don't even."

"If you don't like her all you have to do is tell me! I'll let her down easy, you'll owe me, but I'll do it."

"I'm sure shes' a perfectly lovely woman." He kept his voice down low and hoped she'd take his lead.

She did not. "But?

"He's chicken shit." Her husband appeared behind Robby so he could log something at a computer station.

"Isn't it time for you leave?" Robby made a show of looking at his watch.

"Rob-byyyy, come on."

"I am not having this conversation here."

Sam sighed dramatically, "C'monnnn, don't you trust me?"

Robby shoved his hands back in his pockets, "I trust you. I trust you to make intelligent and informed medical decisions, I would trust you to borrow my truck, I trust you to murder your husband in his sleep and get away with it." Jack's glare didn't slow him down a bit. "I would trust you to... recommend a restaurant or take down an armed combatant with hand to hand combat if the need arose. Hell, I would trust you to perform minor to intermediate surgery unsupervised, but no, I do not trust you to set me up on a blind date." He half whispered, half hissed the last two words.

She completely ignored his tirade, "You wouldn't even have to say anything. Just nod your head for yes and shake your head for no."

Jack came to his rescue, backpack over his shoulder, "Okay, we are leaving." He came around the station and put a loving but motivating hand on her hip and pushher away towards the door. Jack and Robby exchanged a nod of solidarity as the pair of them left.

Once the door closed behind the Abbots Robby sighed and scratched the back of his neck. When he turned around to get everyone gathered up for rounds he found Dana behind him. "Good morning."

"Good morning." She gave him a cheery smile, "So, what's the deal with this cutie from the VA?"

Robby hung his head and couldn't help but laugh, "Seriously? She told you?"

She looked offended, "It's Sammy. Of course she told me, now quit dodging."

"Sounds like you know as much as I do." He stepped around her, ready to walk away.

That didn't stop her at all, "She's cute, she's smart! Why are you avoiding it? What's one date going to hurt?" Robby stops and takes in a deep, calming breath through his nose. "It's not the one date I'm worried about."

Realization dawned on her and she nodded. Sympathetic. "She could be your last first date... I'm just sayin'."

~~~~~

"Alright, I got this, get the hell out of here." Robby hovered over Abbots shoulder while he finished notes on a patient file.

"I'm going." Jack kept typing.

"I'm serious, get out." He scowled down at him. "Don't make me call securtiy."

Jack snorted as he logged out of the computer and stood up, "Too scared to kick me out yourself?"

To anyone that didn't know the two of them, the way Abbot stepped forward and squared up to Robby, the look they gave each other, would have been concerning to say the least.

Robby just crossed his arms, "Go. Home."

Dana walked around the counter, "C'mon you two, break it up."

Jack smirked, "Lucked out." He leaned down to grab his backpack, "Sam wants you to come over for dinner Friday."

As he took the seat Jack had just vacated Robby spun around on the chair, "What's the occasion?"

"How should I know? I just live there." Jack walked out from behind the nurses station. Matching Robby''s stare the whole way.

When it clicked for him Robby groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, "You've got to be shitting me, for real?"

"Don't bitch at me. You want to have that argument, you call her yourself."

"She really does think I'm a lost cause, huh?"

"Apparently."

Robby groaned again, a hint of resignation in it. "Who is it?"

Jack shrugged, "I don't know, probably one of her nurses."

Robby cocked an eyebrow, "Little cliche don't you think? The whole doctor nurse thing?" He took a cheap shot at his colleague because he felt like he deserved it.

"Go to hell." He stepped back from the counter, "SIx o'clock. Don't piss my wife off."

~~~~~~

Jack watched Sam as she walked back and forth through the kitchen, "You're acting like you're the one getting set up with a stranger." He leaned against the entryway into the kitchen with his arms crossed. When she paused to look at him he smirked and pushed off from his spot to approach her. "C'mere." He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him as he settled back against the counter.

His wife rolled her eyes, but went with it and sank into him. "Want it to go well. Want him to be happy."

When Jack snorted she gave him a look.

"Ok, I want him to be less miserable."

That made him smirk as he lets his hold on her slide lower, until he could slip his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "I'm miserable to you know…" He left it open ended, like maybe she could 'help him out'.

"You've always been miserable." She responds without pause.

"Watch it." He cocked an eyebrow at her as he pulled a hand back and gave her a swat on the ass.

Sam had to fight back the smile when she challenges him, "Don't tell me what to do." She leaned in a little further, "I outrank you. Remember?" She pointed a finger, jabbed it into his chest, "Sargent." Then pointed to herself, "Lieutenant."

Face still as unreadable as always he captured her hand in his, finger still pointed, "We ain't in the Army any more, baby." He used her own finger to point to her chest, "Nurse." Then turned her finger towards himself and pressed it against his sternum. "Doctor."

Before she could argue, he saw it flash across her face that she was going to, he grabbed her other hand quick. He twisted them around behind her back so she can't reach him, and used the position to wrap his arms around her and pull her in to a kiss. Once she relaxed, hummed happily, and leaned into him he released her hands. He grinned against her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He pulled back a breath, "Good girl." and then she bit his lip, hard, which made him chuckle and only kiss her harder.

"Knock, knock!"

They pulled apart. Sam let out a little frustrated groan and Jack licked his top lip as he gave her ass one last squeeze. He pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, "I'm goin' to finish that later." Then he was on his way back out to check on the grill.

~~~~~

Robby found Sam in the kitchen, 'One of These Nights' by the Eagles played over the TV sound bar and he could smell the wood smoke through the open patio door from where Jack had something on the smoker.

"Ohhh, Jack's gonna be pissed." She giggled with a wicked smile as she met him halfway for a hug.

"As opposed to normal?" He gave her a squeeze.

"Yes. because he thought you'd bail. Now he owes me." She was still grinning as she stepped back from him.

Robby shook his head, "Don't want to know." Sam reached for the bottle of wine he held in his hand, but he pulled it back, held it out of her reach. "What exactly am I getting myself into here?"

She reached for it again, rolling her eyes at his antics, but he only held it out further. "Answer the question."

"Just relax, if it doesn't work out it doesn't work out, but... obviously you come up in conversation sometimes and one of the girls from work has showed some interest." She can see, clearly, that Robby is regretting his decision to go through with this. "Stop it. She's an RN, she's working at the VA while she finishes her masters. She's smart, she's sweet, she's young and pretty and a great nurse. I wish I had 5 more of her."

"How young?"

Sam had apparently hoped he'd gloss over that one. "Not like sketchy young, don't be gross." She tried to brush it off.

"Sam..." He tilted his head to one side and stared her down.

She just shrugged, "Jacks older than me, besides that's usually how it goes."

"By like five years. Not the point. How young is she Sam?"

"He's seven years older actually." She must see on his face she wouldn't talk her way out of it, because she offered up, "She's just a couple years younger than me."

"Sam!" His eyes go wide and he looks a little offended, "I'm going to be fifty fucking years old soon!"

"We all know you're old." Jack interrupted from the doorway as he walked into the kitchen. He slapped Jack on the back with one hand and took the bottle of wine with the other.

Robby scoffed and then scowled at him, "You're not far off either brother, just wait."

"Okay so she's younger, so what? She sure doesn't seem to mind." The look on her face makes it clear she's trying to fluster him. Throw him off.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jack reappears beside them and hands a glass of wine to his wife and holds out a bourbon to Robby, "It apparently means you're 'sexy as fuck', which I deeply regret ever having to hear or repeat."

"Sam...I love you," Robby starts off, "but I am going to kill you."

"C'mon," Jack grabbed him and turned him around with a push, "Arguing won't make it better. Trust me."

Outside on the patio Robby stared out over the pool into the back yard and scratched at the back of his neck. "Why did I agree to this?"

"She's hard to say no to."

"Do you know this woman?" Robby felt like he was grasping at straws, trying to find any reason to believe this wouldn't blow up in his face.

Jack, his supposed best friend, just shrugged, "Never met her. Sam mentions her, but I don't know. She says she's smart, cool under pressure. Think they've hung out outside of work some."

Robby shook his head, "I can't date a woman in her thirties."

Drink in one hand and flipping steaks on the grill with the other Jack looked at him, "I'm married to a woman in her thirties. What's it matter?"

He laughed, self deprecating as ever, "Thirty nine, Jack, your wife is thirty nine, and for how many more months? You're also a lot closer to thirty than I am brother. Besides, you two have have been married for like twenty fucking years."

Jack didn't correct him, it hadn't quite been twenty years yet, instead he shut the grill and walked over to his corner of the outdoor couch, "Might be good for you." He dropped down to sit with a groan and took a sip of his bourbon.

A little reluctant Robby also took a seat and scratched at his jaw. He took a sip of the bourbon and stopped. "Oh, this is good."

Jack nodded "Broke out a bottle of the good stuff." He took a sip of his own, "Thought we might need it."

Robby scoffed, "We?" Glass raised back up to his lips, Jack smirked into his drink, "This is goin' to be painful for all of us."

Robby laughed, actually laughed, "Fuck off."

~~~~~ The End~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for "Baby, It's alright." a Dr Robby x Reader fic!

[cowardlycandy]

Me waiting to read all the amazing fanfics the wonderfully talented Pitt fanfic writers are gonna post after this weeks heart wrenching episode

I love all you writers sm

[ho-ii]

The Pitt | 6 00 PM.

[dastmalchianss]

dr abbot is a former boyscout, army medic, but always got a bit of the ‘tism with him

[robbyandabbotsandwich]

Started out watching The Pitt a couple weeks ago and became immediately obsessed--was finally able to start watching live with "5:00 PM"

Went on Tumblr to see what people were talking about once I'd squeezed everything I could have out of Reddit, and saw people thirsting over Dr. Abbot. I genuinely didn't get it after his two seconds of screentime, and fell utterly in love with Dr. Robby.

But then the posts and the fics kept popping up...and then Dr. Abbot made his grand reappearance.

I get it, now.

Oh, do I get it...

[alloftheficsyoulovedbefore]

blood bags need to be agitated during collection. they can't just sit on a table or surface. this is so blood doesn't clot or form clumps because if they do you can't give it to a patient. the blood bag itself has anticoagulants in it (chemicals that prevent blood from clotting) to help with this but it's also recommended that you agitate the blood bag. sometimes blood banks use an balance-shaker - a machine that gently moves the blood bag around while blood is being collected from the donor and measures how much blood is drawn. we didn't see mel's blood donation process so we can't say for sure if she and dana used one or not. but we did see dr. jack abbott's collection and it's just strapped to his ankle while he's standing and saving lives. so in my essay i will propose that he does a little tap dance every thirty seconds to act as the agitator and-

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

I love that you are writing for Dr. Abbott! 🩵

Can I pretty please request him with a younger reader like mid 20’s (or just the general idea of an age gap because I love me an old man) where he finds out he’s her emergency contact. He’s obviously older & he thinks she should pick someone her age instead in case something happens to him but he’s the only one she wants in every part of her life and reassures him. I hope that makes sense & isn’t too lame!

Not lame!! Loves an older man!!! They can be so sexyyyyy!!

Listed

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x MedStudent!Reader

Summary: Dr. Jack Abbott isn’t a man who lets his guard down easily. He’s precise. Composed. Rational. But when he finds out you — bright, mid-20s, and entirely too stubborn for your own good — listed him as your emergency contact, something in him unravels. Not because he doesn’t care. But because he cares too much.

He didn’t mean to see it.

You left your chart open on the counter when you got called away to Imaging, and Jack just needed the last lab values to sign off on your pre-op clearance.

He scrolled. Found what he needed. And then his eyes caught on something else.

Emergency Contact: Dr. Jack Abbott Relationship: Personal

His brow furrowed. Personal. Not “supervisor.” Not “colleague.” Just… personal.

He didn’t say anything right away. Didn’t bring it up that day, or the next, or even the one after that. But it stuck.

Because he knew he was older. Knew people talked. Knew that in some ways, he’d always have a foot out of the world you were still building for yourself. And part of him had convinced himself that was good. Safe.

But seeing his name there, in black and white, in a space reserved for the one person you trust when everything goes wrong—It scared the hell out of him.

He finally brought it up when you were sitting in his office after hours, half-eaten takeout between you, the city lights bleeding through the window.

You were cross-legged in his chair, scrolling through your phone and humming under your breath when he said, quietly—

“You should change your emergency contact.”

You blinked. “What?”

He kept his eyes on the food. “I saw it. On your chart. The other day.”

You tilted your head. “Okay… and?”

“I just think,” he said, voice too even, too careful, “you should pick someone closer to your age. Someone who’ll be around for a long time. Just in case.”

You stared at him. Slowly put your phone down.

“Jack.”

“I’m not saying it to be dramatic—”

“No, you’re saying it because you’re afraid,” you said, soft but sure. “That you’re not enough. Or not right. Because of the age difference. Because you think I should want someone who can run a marathon with me or go to brunch with my college friends.”

He didn’t deny it. Didn’t look at you.

You stood up, walked around the desk, and sat on the edge in front of him. Your voice was quieter now.

“You’re the one I call when I have a bad day. When I’m scared. When I don’t know if I can do this.”

He looked up at that, meeting your eyes.

You shrugged, small and honest. “Why wouldn’t I want the person I love to be the one who’s called if something happens to me?” The word love hit him like a sucker punch.

“I don’t care how old you are, Jack,” you said. “I care that you’re you.”

He swallowed. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yeah,” you said gently. “It is.”

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling like he’d been holding it in for days. Maybe he had.

You slid your hand into his, thumb brushing his knuckles. “You’re not temporary, Jack. You’re not just the for now part of my life. You’re the forever part.”

Silence.

Then—“I’m not going to live forever,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“No one does,” you replied. “But you’re here now. And that’s who I want.”

He looked at you for a long time after that. Like he was trying to find the cracks in your certainty. But there weren’t any. There never had been.

And finally, quietly—He squeezed your hand and didn’t let go.

[the-pitt-dr-robby]

♡ ♡

[cowardlycandy]

[bullet-prooflove]

Snapband: Jack Abbott x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gabsgabsvaz @yousigned-upforthis @flyinglama @cosmic-psychickitty

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Masochist - You and Jack have an indepth understanding of one another.

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW) - You know exactly how to get Jack off.

Part of the Job - Violence has always been part of the job, but this time it hits a little too close to home for Jack.

Pittfest - Jack's day turns into a nightmare when he recieves a notification from the hospital regarding a mass casuality event.

In the five minutes before the initial wave Jack calls you seventeen times. He leaves two messages.

“I’m at the hospital. Please call me back.” and “I love you.”

Then he gets to work.

Compartmentalisation, it’s always been his thing but that doesn’t stop him seeking you out every time he steps into The Pitt after clearing a patient for the surgery or the morgue.

“What was she wearing?” Dana asks him as she handles the tablet for the patient BOLO. He can see your work photo has already been uploaded but the rest, it’s blank.  

“I don’t know.” He says running his fingers through those unruly curls as he tries to think back to earlier this afternoon. He’d fallen back asleep after you’d headed into the bathroom, didn’t see you get dressed. “I just don’t…”

That’s when the body rolls past, blood soaking through the white sheet that covers it, your hair tumbling out from underneath it. Right height, right build and a black and white snap band looped around the wrist. He pulls back the sheet to look at the face and finds himself staring into the exit wound of a high calibre weapon. There’s nothing left, not even the scar underneath your hairline from where you cracked your head climbing a tree as a kid. You’ve been completely obliterated.

His world condenses after that. Every single emotion he has shuts down because his heart, it’s been annihilated, there’s not a single shred of him left. His training takes over as he steps away, back into the room where four other people’s lives depend on him.

The clock resets and he’s back in the fray.

Drill, line, rinse, repeat.

It’s the only thing that makes sense.

The moment he stops he’s going to find himself back on that roof and this time he has no reason not to jump.

It’s hour three that his concentration broken by the sound of your voice. It’s fatigue, he thinks, his mind playing tricks on him but there you are being rolled in on a gurney, your thighs straddling another man’s hips, your hand plunged deep into his chest.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tell him, your gaze meeting his and suddenly it feels like he can breathe again.

“It looks like you’re pinching an artery so this guy doesn’t bleed to death.” He tells you, snapping back into action. He flashes the penlight from his right pocket into the depths of the wound.

“OK, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You say as he prods at the flesh surrounding your wrist, gauging the space he has to work with.  

“Alright honey.” He murmurs as he picks up a clamp from the metal tray beside him. “Stay still and we’ll have you hands free in a minute.”

He leans in close, his grizzled cheek brushing against yours as you both stare down into the chest cavity. The scent of daffodils floods his senses, mixed with the acrid taint of cordite. You’d been close when that gun was fired, real fucking close.

“You hurt?” He murmurs as he guides the clamp into the hollow of your palm, using the curvature of your fingers as a road map to the exact placement of the perforation.

“No.” You say your breath ghosting in his ear. “No injuries, just a lot of fucked up shit I’m gonna be seeing every time I close my eyes.”

The clamp bites down on the artery, stemming the flow and Jack’s palm comes to rest on your wrist as the clamp protrudes from the open wound. “I’m going to pull your hand out alright? Slow, so we don’t dislodge the clamp.”

“Yes.” You murmur and the two of you work together to remove your hand from the patient’s chest.  

You flex your fingers when they’re free and they shine with viscera under the fluorescent lights as you rotate your wrist. Jesse, the trauma nurse hands you an antiseptic wipe to clean them before Jack’s hands come to rest on your arms, helping you down off the gurney and into his proximity.

“You’re ok.” He whispers, squeezing your shoulders lightly to reassure himself you’re really there.

“Yea, I am.” You tell him as his forehead comes to rest upon on yours. “Now do me a favour and put me to work.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kilojulietsierra]

Y’all… I think I might have to come out of my fanfic hiatus for this one…

THE PITT 1.12 • 6:00 P.M.

[quickestgold]

Goodbye, My Lover | Part 1 | The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Dr. (Ex-Mil)!Reader x Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch

Chapter 1: I Love You

Synopsis: You and Jack survived the horrors of war together. But when the dust settled, you realised that coming home and going back to the way things used to be were two very different things. Though you and Jack parted ways romantically, the bond you shared remained, shaped by a past neither of you could forget. With Robby, it was different. Loving him was easy and he loved you deeply in return. But when Robby walked away, haunted by his own unresolved pain, your world shattered. Still, you continued to show up - for your patients, your colleagues and somehow for yourself. Until a patient presents with injuries that mirror your own past trauma and the unspoken tension between you, Jack and Robby resurfaces, threatening to unravel everything you’ve tried to move past.

Warnings: Age gap is around 18 years. This series will deal with some heavy themes around a physical attack, death, grief, ptsd, panic attacks, s*icidal tendencies and heartbreak >>> Girlies this will be super sad,,,with some comfort at the end, I promise

Word count: 1079

A/n: The Pitt and our saddest boys have literally pulled me out of tumblr retirement!! If love triangles aren't your thing, I apologize in advance... Couldn't decide between the two, now they're both the reader's exes... Bon appétit.

Next Chapter (2): Please Forgive Me

Your breaths are ragged, uneven. You try to steady yourself on the gurney, but everything feels unreal. Desperate, you search for something to anchor you in reality. You glance down at your hands. They look strange, pressing into the patient’s chest in a rhythm you know all too well.

A familiar voice cuts through the haze, but you don’t react.

The voice comes again, "Y/N?"

“Fuck, Robby! I’ve got it okay?!” You snap, your hands moving on autopilot.

Shit. You really didn’t mean that.

A few faint gasps from the staff break the silence. It’s like you’ve been ripped out of a nightmare. Robby used to do that, be your lifeline when the terrors threatened to pull you under.

You huff a shaky breath, searching his eyes for something, though you're not sure what. But you find it. He doesn’t say anything, yet somehow, comfort floods you. And guilt, so much guilt.

Robby steps closer, arms crossed, pressing his lips together before he tries again. Softer, like a whisper in the night, "Are we ready to call it?"

The question snaps you back to the present. "No. No!" You share a quick glance with Jack, who is working the patient with you.

"Okay. Hold compressions", Robby says gently, but firm.

You comply, everyone's eyes fixed on the monitor, dread setting in.

"Still in asystole", you hear Donnie behind you.

Jack motions for you to switch out. You step back and he resumes.

"Let’s push one more round of epi", you beg, eyes bouncing between Jack and Robby.

Robby nods. Mateo pushes another amp, as you take over compressions for another round.

Robby checks his watch. "That’s it. Stop compressions", a familiar sadness in his voice.

You comply eventually, but cannot bring yourself to look up.

The air is thick, suffocating.

Jack calls it, knowing you can't. "Time of death, 12:36".

A breath escapes you that you didn’t realize you were holding. You look at the woman lying before you and see yourself.

Still. Sleeping. Almost peaceful, if it weren’t for the tube down her throat. Gently, you touch her hand. "I’m so sorry", you whisper.

"Why don’t we take a minute and then debrief with Kiara?", Robby suggests. The nurses and techs leave the room quietly.

You stay, frozen. Jack and Robby don’t move either.

"I can do the notification, Y/N...", Robby offers softly.

"I'll do it", you counter too harshly.

Robby and Jack exchange a look. You pretend you don’t see it.

Jack opens the door to the family room, holding it as you step inside cautiously, Robby following behind. You all sit, facing the husband of your deceased patient.

The weight of what you’re about to say hangs heavy in the air. You wait, just one more minute, as if delaying it could change the outcome.

You study the husband's eyes: fear, hope, maybe both. Every movement feels deliberate. You're about to shatter this man's world. And he will hate you for it.

You begin to speak, your words soft and measured.

Dana watches you through the glass doors. The husband's sobs echo through the hallway, the sound raw and aching.

"Do you think she was-" The husband can't finish the thought.

"Scared?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, then nods.

"No", you answer gently.

You feel Jack and Robby’s eyes on you, their sadness palpable. You don’t look at them, but the image of Robby is burned into your mind. The lines on his forehead deepening, his eye twitching at the painful memory, his jaw tight as if holding back words he can’t say.

Jack is harder to ignore. You feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and familiar, like a silent plea for forgiveness. You remember how his lips press together, the corners of his mouth pulling downward, like he’s exhaling a grief too big to contain. You've seen him break and mend over the years, unaware of the love he still carries for you.

You lean in, your voice soft: "I believe she thought about her loved ones. How much you made her laugh with your silly jokes. How she loved you and how deeply you loved her in return."

The husband lets out a strangled sob. He tries hard to keep it in, but it escapes anyway. "I don't know..."

You pause.

"I do."

He meets your gaze and it hits him.

Somehow, him realising that you're speaking from experience triggers something buried deep inside you.

Your pulse quickens, your vision blurs. You excuse yourself with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. "Our social worker, Kiara, will talk to you about the next steps. Again, I’m so very sorry."

Jack and Robby watch you leave, grief and guilt washing over them all over again.

You just need to be somewhere else, away from their eyes, away from the memories.

Your confession still hangs heavy in the air. Robby and Jack don’t speak, there’s nothing to say, only the fear creeping in that something isn’t right.

They exchange a brief look before moving in sync towards the stairwell, urgency in their steps, knowing the one place you go when the world feels too heavy, when you need to breathe.

But when they open the door to the roof, the air is empty. No familiar figure standing behind the railing, staring out at the city. Just the harsh wind and the distant noise of the world below.

Robby's eyes dart across the rooftop, taking in the emptiness. His chest tightens, panic rising, “She’s not here.”

Jack's thoughts spiral back to the moment they saw you leave the room. The confession. The look in your eyes. The sudden shift in your energy, the weight of something you hadn’t shared before.

Robby rushes towards the railing, peeking over the edge. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility, but the image of you disappearing over the ledge flashes in his mind and for a moment, it paralyzes him.

"Robby, stop", Jack's voice is sharp, his eyes scan the space around them, desperately looking for anything that makes sense. But he can't bring himself to look over the edge. He won’t. Not yet.

Jack's been through this with you before, he's seen you at your lowest. And vice versa. But tonight, something's different.

“Where would she go?” Robby asks, voice barely a whisper, now full of dread.

"She wouldn’t just leave. Not like this." Jack's voice trembles, trying to convince himself more than Robby.

Thanks for reading hehe. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. It's pretty heavy, but sets the tone for the rest of the series. Pls come back for Chapter 2: Please Forgive Me

PS: Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist. ♡

[djkerr]

More BTS pictures with The Pitt cast (season 1)

📷 @ambaragogo IG

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Fractured, But Not Broken

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Surgeon!Reader

Summary: Her and Jack were no strangers to trauma—what had happened to them still lingered in every quiet moment, in every unspoken word. Though they were together, an invisible wall stood between them, built by grief, guilt, and the inability to let go.

Author's note: Yes we only saw Dr. Abbot on screen for 0.5 seconds but those were the single most important 0.5 seconds of my life. Shawn Hatosy you've done it again.

Jack’s hands were steady as he worked, but his mind wasn’t. The trauma bay was controlled chaos—blood, voices, the sharp scent of antiseptic mixing with the coppery tang of iron. It was nothing he hadn’t handled before. But this case—this patient—was different.

Because it was too familiar.

The injuries. The circumstances. The way her voice cracked when she called out vitals.

He didn’t look at her, couldn’t, but he felt her presence beside him like a phantom limb, an aching reminder of everything left unsaid.

“Jack,” a nurse prompted, breaking through the haze. His jaw clenched, and he forced himself back into the present, back into the procedure, back into what he could control.

It wasn’t enough.

The summer heat pressed against Jack’s skin as he stood on the hospital rooftop, hands gripping the railing. The city sprawled below, indifferent to the weight pressing down on his chest. He barely registered the footsteps behind him until a familiar voice cut through the thick, humid air.

“Jack,” Dr. Robby’s voice was steady but firm, the way it always was when things were at their worst. “You don’t want to do this.”

Jack let out a breath, shaky, uneven. "I must have had a reason at one time to keep coming back. But I can't think of it right now."

Robby stepped closer, cautious but unwavering. "Because this is the job that keeps giving. Nightmares, ulcers, suicidal tendencies. Besides, if you jump on my shift, that's just rude, man."

Jack huffed out a bitter laugh, finally turning toward Robby. "I hope I'm never one of your patients."

Robby smirked, the weight of the moment pressing down on them both. "That makes two of us, my friend."

They stood there for a long moment before Robby finally said, “Let’s go back inside.”

Jack nodded, barely, but it was enough.

The elevator doors slid open, and she nearly walked straight into them. Her pulse was still hammering, her hands still damp from scrubbing out. The adrenaline from the OR hadn’t even settled when she had heard the words: Your husband is on the roof.

She had barely finished scrubbing out before sprinting to the elevators, only to find them now stepping off, looking worse for wear.

She plastered on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Dr. Robby, Dr. Abbot—what an unexpected encounter!" She took a step forward, gaze fixed on Jack. "Speaking of the unexpected, imagine finding yourself elbow deep in someone’s sternum when a nurse casually informs you that your husband is on the roof, about to jump."

Jack winced. Robby cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh… let you two talk.” And with that, he walked off, leaving them alone in the hallway.

She took a shaky breath, then, without thinking, latched onto the front of his scrubs and pulled herself into him. Her grip was tight, grounding. "What the hell, Jack?"

He looked away. “I—I wasn’t going to. I just needed—”

“What? Air? A better view?” She ran a hand through her hair, taking a step back as she exhaled sharply. “You scared the hell out of me.”

His gaze finally met hers, something fractured but pleading beneath it. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Her expression softened, just slightly. “Then let me help you.”

A long silence stretched between them. It wasn’t an answer, not yet. But it was something.

“This isn’t working,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “We keep running in circles, Jack. We don’t talk about it, we don’t deal with it—we just let it fester. And I can’t do it anymore.”

His fists tightened at his sides. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Her breath hitched. “Then just feel it. Stop shutting me out.”

Something inside him snapped. “You think I don’t feel it?” His voice was sharp, raw. “Every day, I wake up and it’s still there. You—us—what happened. I can’t erase it, and I sure as hell can’t move on like it didn’t shape everything that came after.”

A beat of silence. Then, a step closer. Then another.

And suddenly, it wasn’t silence between them anymore—it was the weight of everything they hadn’t said, crashing down all at once.

[greenies-green]

yes yes yes😌

Kaleidoscope

Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: suicidal ideation

A/N: Welcome to my first Jack Abbot fic! It’s not super long, but boy he is a cutie. I can’t wait to write some more for him 🥺

—

Dr. Jack Abbot gave Michaelangelo’s sculptures a run for their money when it came to stone cold emotions. He never smiled, never laughed. No reason to, in his opinion. Perlah claimed to have seen him crack a smirk one time when a med student spilled their energy smoothie in Dr. Robby’s lap. But nobody believed her.

When he was younger, before his deployment tours, he laughed all the time. He was a class clown, according to all of his elementary and high school teachers. But the light in Jack Abbot died with every gunshot wound, every amputated limb, every final breath. And it didn’t improve when he came to the States.

He flirted with the roof of the hospital quite often. Never planning to jump, but also never certain that he wanted to go back down the safe way either. He knew many of his former troop mates chose to follow through with it, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe because he knew the pain it would cause, and that seemed like it would be an inconvenience to everyone around him.

One day after a grueling night shift filled with death and pain, he stood at the ledge of the hospital’s roof again. His toes hung over the concrete. Just enough thrill to numb the existential dead. And he heard the door to the roof open.

Michael fucking Robinavitch. He thought to himself.

His friend and colleague always managed to find him during times like these, always talking him back to the safe side of the guard rail. But he didn’t hear any lecture coming from behind him. No sarcastic jokes. Instead, he heard crying.

Jack turned around and saw you on your knees, hands in your lap, and hunched over sobbing. The soldier in him took over, and he hopped over the guard rail to run to your side in concern that you might have been attacked or injured.

When you heard his footsteps, you froze in panic. You didn’t see him when you came outside.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Jack asked, kneeling down to your level.

You stared at your senior attending with red, puffy eyes. The sniffling continued, but your embarrassment managed to curb your tears. “No, sir. I’m okay.” You said, wiping away any watery evidence from your cheeks.

Jack stared at you, like he couldn’t figure out any other reason why you would cry if you were physically okay. “Then why are you up here?” The slight annoyance in his voice signaled that maybe you had interrupted his own privacy on the roof.

You shrugged, shaking your head as the tears welled up again. “I just don’t know how to do it.” You whispered. “How can I go home and sleep when I just watched three people die? I watched a toddler die because she snuck into the neighbor’s pool.” And the sobs came back like a tidal wave.

Jack sighed heavily, looking around as if there might be someone else to handle your breakdown instead of him. He pulled his lips in a tight line, coming to terms that you were his problem. “Listen, kid. You’ve gotta bag up the feelings and shove ‘em in the closet. That’s the only way to be a doctor.” He lectured like he had given the speech to every single intern who walked through the doors of the Pitt. Which he had. “The more you do that, the more you’ll be able to dissociate.”

You looked up to him, vision blurred from the tears, disgusted. “What? Just so I can end up like a heartless prick like you?” You hissed, not caring if he had been your boss for the last 12 hours. Your shift was technically over anyway.

And that’s when it happened. Jack Abbot smiled. He grinned, showing off the picture-perfect smile that nobody downstairs had ever seen. Not even old timers like Robby or Dana. And then he laughed. If the circumstances hadn’t been different, it would have been a laugh that you daydreamed of hearing again. But he was laughing in your face as you cried about the loss of several patients that night.

“Are you fucking laughing at me?” You asked, wanting to slap that charming smile off his face.

Jack’s shoulders shook with more laughter at your words, and he hunched over from the contractions in his diaphragm. You were ready to stand up and leave him on the roof alone, keeled over like a hyena. But when he looked up again, his eyes matched yours with sorrow and tears. Despite his laughter, he was breaking.

Your brows furrowed at the confusing sight in front of you, but the empathy in your heart ordered your hands to grab his, holding them tightly. Whether it was for your sake or his, you didn’t know.

Jack pulled your hands close to his chest, and his laughs turned to gasps for air. His face scrunched as he tried to fight back whatever dam was crumbling inside of him. Within 30 seconds, you had seen more emotion than anyone in the Pitt had ever seen during his career there. You reached a hand to caress his jaw and tilt his head up to look at you.

When he opened his eyes, you were met with a kaleidoscope of colors. The rising sun refracted brown, blue, and green from his hazel eyes, and you knew in that moment that no artist could ever replicate the beauty staring straight back at you. Despite the reddening in his sclera that matched yours, you were awestruck.

Jack raised a calloused hand to grasp the forearm that supported his head, and he leaned into your hold. You both stayed that way for a long time, with you gently stroking a thumb on his cheek and him holding onto you like it was his only tether to reality. The labored breaths eventually returned to normal rhythm. The tears stopped flowing.

After what felt like hours, he finally spoke. “You’re a good doctor.”

You tilted your head at the unexpected praise. “What do-“

“I’ve watched you the last few days. You have a personal touch that most ER docs don’t have. It’s different.” He mused.

Jack Abbot didn’t just toss around compliments. Hell, he never said anything nice. Not even to his pediatric patients. You traced your fingers from his stubbled jaw to the silver laced curls of his scalp, running through them gently. He nearly fell forward into your arms at the contact, but he only let his head tilt down.

“I guess you aren’t really a prick.” You said.

Jack smiled again and chuckled. You wanted to hold onto that image forever. “No, I am a prick.” He countered.

You giggled at his confession. Without much thought, you wrapped your arms around his chest and rested your head on his shoulder. Jack froze, his brain unable to process the embrace. But eventually, one hand came to rest on the small of your back and the other to the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair. He breathed in your scent of vanilla and sweat from the shift, feeling intoxicated.

When you eventually pulled away to look at him again, Jack finally admired your beauty for the first time in person. The way the sunrise glittered off your eyes, the orange flow giving life to your sleepy features. He curled the hand that cradled your head around to your cheek, and his rough thumb brushed over your lips.

“Are you tired?” He asked quietly, almost a whisper.

Your lips instinctively followed his thumb as it traced your skin. “Yes.”

A moment of silence. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

You could see in his gorgeous, weary eyes that there was no sexual implication. For now, anyway. Only the opening of his soul, pining for a peaceful rest. You finally pressed the tiniest kiss on his thumb. “Yes.” You breathed.

And Jack smiled again.