#dr abbott x female reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecherrypittttttt · 18 days ago

Text

PEACHY; dr jack abbot x dr!reader

words: 8,800+

content warnings: a lil bit smutty, bit of an age gap, pining, the whole ED gang, fluffy <3

summary: the 4 times they didn’t get caught and the 1 time they did

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

In hindsight, the first time they were almost caught, was probably the closest call.

They were at a lake resort, about an hour or so outside of Pittsburgh, for the annual Emergency Department resident program retreat. The air was muggy - thick with humidity and loud with the mundane buzzing of mosquitoes.

Every year, after the chief residents graduate, the attendings take the whole program on a weekend retreat somewhere. Usually it is some random bed and breakfast that barely has a pool. Not that anyone cares. Everyone is happy for a weekend of relaxation and the chance to actually see the sun for 48 hours.

The hospital funds an abysmally small portion of the retreat since it is technically the time when everyone gives their feedback on the residency program. Graduating residents and attending physicians partake in evaluations on both the program and each other. The attendings rotate every year who pays for the rest of it. This year, it was Dr Abbot's turn.

Dr Abbot had spared no expense. They were at one of the nicest resorts in Pennsylvania. It had everything. Horse riding, axe throwing, two golf courses, bowling, cooking classes, a holistic healing spa, and what the residents had all decided was the one thing more tiring than the ED - the Team Building Adventure Package they were all signed up for.

The attendings spent the weekend doing who knows what while the residents conquered a high ropes challenge course, zip lining, and a climbing wall.

Yes, Dr Abbot had spared no expense but he had spared no free time either.

She was excited for this trip. For the sunshine, sure. But the chance to finally, maybe, get Dr Abbot to crack. She saw the way he tried to pretend not to look at her in the ED. She noticed the hoops he would jump through to have her on a case with him. The excuses he made up to text her - citing some random medical journal that yes, she was interested in. But she was far more interested in him.

If only he wasn't such a damn good guy. She knew he would never touch his resident no matter how much he liked her. They have had too many late night and early morning conversations up on the roof or at the diner next to the hospital or that bench in the park across the street where he had had his chance. So many times. She knew he was waiting for her to give the green light. For her to make the first move.

One night he started calling the bench in the park 'their bench'. She almost kissed him that night. But she chickened out. Now that residency was over and she would be starting as an attending at The Pitt shortly, she was feeling a newfound sense of confidence. So she bought a new string bikini for the retreat. If only she had had a chance to wear it. Or even see him.

Jack smiles to himself as he dips into the lake. He feels kind of bad. Making the residents work like this on the retreat. But he knew he couldn't see her in a bikini so he packed their schedules with the random team building program the resort had offered.

He already felt disrespectful enough with the thoughts he had about her when she was in hospital issued scrubs. If he saw her in a bikini, he would not make it through this weekend without cracking. Her half naked and technically no longer being his resident was a very dangerous combination and he was thanking his lucky stars that he had made it through the full 48 hours barely even seeing her. He missed her, of course. But she was better off without him. Practically 15 years his junior and Jack was almost certain she didn't see him as anything other than a good boss or a mentor.

Some nights he let himself think otherwise. Usually, when they'd go sit and chat on their bench and something in her eyes was practically begging him to kiss her. Jack would just chalk it up to him projecting onto her. Because gosh, he wanted to kiss her so bad. But he respected her too much to put her in a potentially uncomfortable situation.

Yes, they were close. Yes, they got along. Yes, they laughed together. Yes, they cried together and then comforted each other. But he did not want to be that male attending that took his resident simply being kind to him as romantic interest.

He lets himself actually think about her for the first time since they saw each other at check in. He can't help but huff a laugh to himself at the fact that she is probably pissed off at him for making them do so much physical activity over the weekend. He is definitely going to be hearing about it tomorrow on their shift. He can't wait to see her.

A creak on the dock shakes him out of his thoughts.

He must be dreaming. He did everything possible to avoid her this weekend. Specifically, her in a bikini. And here she was, practically glowing in the moonlight, wearing the tiniest purple string bikini and a knit coverup dress that wasn't doing much covering up. Jack is happy it is dark out because he is pretty sure that his face is tomato red.

She doesn't say anything. Just stops at the end of the dock, staring at him with her hand on her hip.

"What are you doing here?" is all he manages to choke out.

"Well, I bought this new bikini and haven't had a chance to use it because you've had us running around like a drill sergeant all weekend. Figured it would be a shame to waste it."

Jack is trying not to check her out but he knows he is doing a poor job when all he can respond with is, "Yeah, definitely"

She doesn't seem to notice. Just plops herself down onto the dock, her feet hanging in the water.

"Plus, I believe that I'm owed an evaluation with my attending."

Technically, a resident can do their evaluation of their primary attending with said primary attending. Since that is entirely counterintuitive to honest feedback, they give the residents the option to do it anonymously online or meet with another attending that is not their primary. No one ever does it with their primary attending no matter how good a relationship they have with them.

Jack knew she had already had her evaluation of him earlier today. She did it with Robby. He knew because he went against everything good and honest in him and read her file. He was dying to know what she said about him. And unsurprisingly, it was all good things. All professional things. Too professional for his liking.

Jack is typically a chatter box but the moon shining on her face is making her look more like a princess than normal and he feels breathless. He's happy to get out the couple words he is able, "You're brave."

They just stare at each other for a moment. It feels like a standoff. Who is actually going to acknowledge that they're both half naked and alone for the first time in well...ever?

"And you're stalling. C'mon, you get to give me feedback all day everyday. It's my turn, Dr Abbot."

She flips her hair and tugs her coverup up and over her head - sets it down onto the dock next to his prosthetic. Jack sucks in a breath and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is checking her out. She's doing the same to his bare chest and biceps. Jack barely notices because he is too busy wondering where the hell she managed to get a bikini that small.

The little smirk on her lips is what confirms for Jack that she knows exactly what she is doing. Two can play at this game, he thinks. He skips the boring questions about patient care and gets right to the questions he knows she is hoping he asks.

"How do you feel your attending's behavior impacts your learning experience as a resident?"

"The praise is encouraging. But the staring, the intense eye contact-" she pauses and Jack would laugh at the irony of it all, her eyes boring into his as she says this, if he wasn't holding his breath in anticipation, "-is distracting. But still encouraging."

Jack is silent for a moment then gives himself a quick mental pep talk. If he can be brave enough to be in combat, he can handle flirting with his colleague, "Well, if my staring is such a problem, why does it sound like you like it?."

"You wish." She kicks her leg as she giggles, splashing him. Her giggles stop quickly, the second Jack's strong hands wrap around her lifted ankle. He feels a sense of pride at her gasp and lets himself think that maybe, just maybe, he makes her feel the same way she makes him feel.

If only he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. He takes her foot in his hands gently, massages the arch of it as he asks the next question, "How stimulating do you find your attending's teaching style?

Jack can't hide the smirk that takes over his face as he realizes that she is struggling to answer - because of his fingers, "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

She rolls her eyes. In the way she does so often, but this time it is a little different - forced. As she answers, she is hoping he hasn't noticed that her faux annoyance is actually just a front for how turned on she is over such little touch.

"Stimulating? Mentally, very. Physically, there’s a lot to be…desired."

He drops her foot in surprise at her direct answer and for the first time tonight allows himself to believe the fact that this might actually be happening. She takes his brief shock as her chance to dip into the lake. It's pretty shallow. The water line is high enough to lap at her neck , but short enough to where they both could either stand or tread water. He swims a stroke towards her, they are almost nose to nose but they do not dare touch. Jack breaks the silence, but not her gaze.

"To what extent do you feel your attending demonstrates ethical behavior?"

The question she has been waiting for. She doesn't miss a beat in her response, "To an annoying one."

Jack's eyebrows raise in surprise, "That's a first."

Somehow, they both manage to get a small laugh out. Jack is first and foremost a combat medic. There are numerous colleagues of his that would argue his use of, what they would consider risky procedures, isn't necessarily the most ethical thing of all time.

"Can you expand on what is so...annoying?"

"You're always looking but...you're never touching."

"Well, some would say that touching your resident would be unethical."

"Some would say that you’re teasing."

"Oh, really? Who? Did you raise your concern with Robby? What did he have to say?"

They both feel the air shift. It's the fun of their dynamic. He lets her have her fun. Lets her have control. Lets her take the lead. Lets her be her. Because they both know at the end of the day, the only other person she is ever going to follow the lead of, feel safe enough to be vulnerable around, is him. And he is damn honored.

"You know I didn't." He wants to kiss the pout off of her face - it's so cute.

"You know, he didn't mention you going to his evaluation in the tiniest bikini on planet earth so I am going to assume -" Jack traces the bikini strings on her hips then snaps them against her skin as she gasps at him finally touching her. "-that this is all for me."

Now she is the one left speechless. She recovers flawlessly, "Also, meant to put that in your evaluation. Too cocky."

"Why didn't you ask Robby?"

"Jack-"

"When I ask my residents questions, I expect an answer. You know that." Jack's hands move up, rubbing at the sides of her waist. He feels how fast her heart is beating now. The pace matches his own, making his breath hitch. The confirmation that she is feeling as keyed up as he is gives him the confidence to brush his fingers, just under her breast, but careful not to touch it.

"Because I don't want Robby to touch me." His hands drift to the back of her thighs, lifting her legs around his waist. She feels him hard against her and tries not to drop her head back in the satisfaction of finally feeling him. She reaches her hands around his neck, rests them where his curls are. The curls she's imagined running her hands through what feels like a million times. Jack's hands rub up and down the back of her thighs as he holds her up. His fingers are dangerously close to her ass, but again, he's careful not to touch. Not until she says so.

"Who do you want to touch you then?"

She rolls her eyes again. This one is different too. But it's not forced like the first one. It's frustrated - sexually frustrated. "You know who."

"Whitaker? Shen? Langd-"

She mumbles "You're so annoying" before she is going to kiss him. He doesn't know where this sudden will power is coming from, but he stops her, one hand holding her up and the other on the back of her neck - keeping her in place.

"What'd I say about when I ask questions, hm?" Jack can't stop staring at her lips. Her full, perfectly pink lips that are so, so close to his own. They haven't even kissed yet and he's so far gone. They both are. He feels himself harden more than he thought was possible as she practically pants for his kiss.

Jack can't take it anymore, his thumb reaches under her bikini top, grazes across her nipple. He'd rather bite it but he'll save that for later. He can't wait to find out what pretty noises she'll make then if these are the ones she is making now.

"Oh my god! You, Jack! I want you to touch me! Happy!?"

"Unethically so"

And in one swift movement, Jack pulls her lips to his, swiping into her mouth almost immediately. She whimpers at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Jack draws back just a little bit, to snag her full bottom lip with his teeth. He's pressing a searing kiss to her lips again as his hands reach for the strings around her back and then her neck, tugging them loose. His other hand that is kneading her ass grabs the strings on her bottoms, pulls those loose as well. He grabs the scraps of fabric and tosses them onto the dock.

He drinks her in and if he thought the moonlight made her look perfect earlier, he doesn't even have an adjective for right now.

He always assumed there would be a sun in heaven but now he is sure that there is a moon. She tugs at his curls as she presses another hungry kiss to his lips, her hands dragging down his body and slowly scratching his biceps. Yes, definitely a moon.

Jack dips his head, takes one of her breasts into his mouth. Licking and nipping at one with his mouth. Kneading the other with his hand.

He comes up for air and a bit of teasing, "This unethical enough for you?"

She smiles at him in a dazed way that makes his heart stop. "Almost" she whispers in his ear, letting her lips run down his neck - lightly kissing, sucking at the sensitive spots, and then trailing her tongue over them.

She runs her finger under the waistband of his swim trunks. He moans at the feeling of her finally touching him. He feels her smirk into his neck as he takes off his trunks, throwing them on top of her swimsuit on the dock.

Her mouth is on his again. Hot and desperate. Jack can't help but think he is the luckiest man on the planet now that he knows that she is just as needy for him as he is for her. She grinds her center down onto his hard length, and they both let out a groan. Yes, definitely the luckiest man on the planet.

"You know how long I have been waiting for you to kiss me?"

Jack is panting, he whispers back, practically speaking the words right onto her lips. "Didn't want you to feel weird. You deal with enough at work - you didn't need your old attending hitting on you."

"I knew it." That makes Jack pause.

"What?"

"You weren't making a move because you were my attending. I gave you so many damn chances and you would just stare at me. That bikini was my last resort."

"That bikini - is going to give me a heart attack. And I know this is ironic because we are skinny dipping and making out like teenagers who are past curfew but I have way too much respect for you to assume you loved me back without explicit verbal consent."

Jack doesn't even realize it slipped out until he sees the expressions move over her face. First surprise, then just pure joy, "Love?" she teases, her eyebrows raising and her hands clasped at the back of his neck.

Jack just grins, his thumb brushing her cheek as he kisses her again and whispers softly against her lips, "Yeah, I love you."

She tosses her head back and laughs. His favorite sound. Even though they are completely naked right now - it's her laugh that is making him blush the hardest. "God, I love you. I'm gonna leave the world's most positive review for that bikini because I have been trying to get you to admit that for years and if I knew that was all it would take - I would have done this a long time ago."

"Yeah?" Jack can't believe his ears. But she is nodding her head, mumbling to him that he is an idiot, and kissing him again because she can't get enough. Neither of them can. They have about four years to make up for. They could kiss forever. But a door slamming against the wood of one of the cabins breaks them apart.

"Oh my fucking god" she whispers. She would recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere. And under any other circumstances, she would be more than happy to see it.

Jack grabs their swimsuits off of the deck and into his hands, under the water and hidden from view. She flies under the dock. The space is small, but large enough for her to not have to go under water. She's hidden and doesn't have to hold her breath - that is all she cares about. She clamps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"I thought I told you that smoking was bad for you."Jack huffs. Dana laughs. There is a flicker of a lighter but it goes out just as fast as it was lit. It's broken. Dana sighs.

"Well, I need to go find a lighter that actually works but since I'm here - you feeling okay?" There's a lilt to Dana's tone. A teasing one.

Jack's brow furrows, "Why would I not be?"

"I don't know - I just transcribed all the attending reviews of the residents and I don't think I have ever read a more glowing review from you. I mean that thing could practically pass as a love letter.”

"She's a great doctor."

Dana cackles, "I didn't even say who it was."

Jack just laughs and for the millionth time that night he is thankful it is dark out because his cheeks are burning. "Okay, you caught me."

"But she is a great doctor. A great person too. Funny, kind, pretty, smart." a pause and then, "No longer your resident" another pause, "...single."

"Dana - what happened to you going to find a lighter that works?" That cracks a laugh from both of them.

"Fine, I'll leave you be - but you deserve to be happy too, Jack. So does she. I think you both do that for each other. Just keep that in mind."

"Goodnight, therapist Dana" Jack sing songs.

"Goodnight!" She yells back from her trek to the cabins. They wait for the click off the door before they are in the clear.

"Don't say a word" is flying out of Jack's mouth at the same time she teases, barely getting the words out between her giggles. "What a wing woman Dana is. Gosh, I just love her."

"Wing woman? Sounds like you have a crush."

Her eyebrows fly up her forehead in faux surprise as she points behind her to where Dana once was moments ago, "Oh, really? Because you’re writing love letters about me to our employer and everything. It sounds like you're obsessed with me!”

Jack mumbles a coy 'Something along those lines' and playfully tosses her bikini at her "Get dressed - lets go."

Jack is pulling his trunks on and jumping out of the lake and onto the dock. He tugs his prosthetic on and reaches out a hand to her. She just stares at him - blank and confused. They were finally there and now he wants to leave just because Dana had to smoke a cigarette.

He silences any doubt in her brain, "I'm not fucking you for the first time in a lake. You deserve a bed and not a UTI."

That tugs a laugh and a smile out of her. She ties on her bottoms and the bottom half of her top before she takes Jack's hand and climbs up onto the deck.

"Who knew what a gentleman you are." She turns her back to him, signalling for him to finish tying her bikini.

His whisper on the back of her neck makes her legs wobble in anticipation, "and I can't properly feel how wet you are for me if we're in the water."

"There he is."

They are a tangle of limbs and kisses and giggles as they slowly but surely make their way back to Jack's cabin. It is truly a miracle they don't get caught.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The second time they'd almost been caught was practically a year from the first. It'd been a year since the lake. A year of finally loving each other. A year of somehow, someway - not being caught at work - despite Jack being absolutely, positively awful at keeping them a secret.

They were head over heels in love and he was a shameless flirt. The only thing saving them was that he was a bad flirt so nobody had really noticed yet. Or so they'd hoped.

She had moved into Jack's house two months ago. If he had it his way, she would have moved in about six months ago. She was always there anyway. That is what he would say.

They had spent all morning hiding her stuff - making it look like she had never even stepped foot in the place. She was even practicing her reaction to 'seeing his house for the first time'. Jack couldn't stop smiling at her. He was just happy she was finally referring to everything in the house as 'theirs' and not 'his' - even if he was being bossed around. He liked it. He loved her. More than anything.

Every year, one of the attendings hosts a welcome barbeque for the new interns and med students that join the program in July. The whole program comes, at least the ones who aren't working, from the newest third year med student to the most seasoned attending.

Usually, if there is a new attending, they are supposed to host after their first year on the job. Jack made up some random excuse as to why he wanted to host. Everyone looked at him like he had three heads when he had volunteered but he knew that she couldn't exactly send out an invitation with the same address as him and not blow their cover.

They had spent all afternoon on absolute opposite ends of their backyard. Jack posted up with Robby at the grill. She was lounging on the pool chairs with Dana, Collins, and Mel.

She was killing him. She wasn't in that purple bikini. This was a work function after all. But she could wear a paper bag and Jack would be sweating so the high cut swimsuit she was in now wasn't helping his case. The only thing getting him through the afternoon was knowing how she would be once everyone was gone.

She likes to tease that he is the needy one. And normally, she is right. But if there's a couple hours where they are on separate shifts or apart for whatever reason, having to pretend like they are not practically engaged, she is on him like glue the moment they're together again. And she doesn't leave him be. Jack relishes in it.

Like he is right now. They're putting the house back together. Getting all her stuff out and back in its rightful place. When they set up this morning, they had basically split the house in half and tackled it that way. Now she trailed behind him like a cute puppy, holding onto his bicep and nuzzling herself into his side. "Can we please do this tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you. I'm tired."

Jack is so giddy, he practically giggles. He slowly lowers himself onto their plush patio furniture. Tugs her down on top of him. Her legs on either side of his waist and her arms finding their usual place around his neck - her hands in his hair. He cups her face, presses a long kiss to her lips and then speaks against them, "From what? Laying by the pool and teasing me all day?"

"From pretending that this isn't our house."

Jack grins at the emphasis, and then they're both in a fit of laughter thinking about the hilarity of the day. Of their situation. Of how they silently communicate that they don't think they can keep sneaking around for much longer. They don't really want to. They know this is it. That they are it for each other. So everyone is going to find out eventually anyways.

He imitates her, "Dr Abbot, where is the garbage can? Dr Abbot, where is the bathroom? Dr Abbot, where is the-"

She covers his mouth with his palm and feigns annoyance as she rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to ask where the bedroom is if you don't shut up."

"Don't need the bedroom. Got you right where I want you, baby." He's slipping off that damn cover up that is really never doing its job anyways and laying her down on the daybed.

He's kissing down her body, slowly. Doing his favorite thing - worshipping her. Her hands pull at his curls and he lifts his lips from her body only to murmur against her hip, "Been dying to taste you all fucking day."

He's pulled her bottoms not even halfway down her thighs when they hear the lock on their fence rattle. She is up and running into the house faster than Jack can even blink. He can't help but double over in laughter - he has never seen her move that fast in their lives - not even for a code.

Robby's voice shuts Jack right up, "Why are you laughing to yourself?"

"Why are you breaking into my backyard?"

"I forgot my sunglasses." Robby walks over to where Jack stands by the daybed. He picks up a pair of sunglasses off of the side table.

Abbot nods to them, "Those look like Heather's sunglasses."

Robby doesn't miss a beat, "And that-" he juts his chin towards the coverup that was left abandoned on the daybed, "-looks like something that belongs to another doctor we know."

Jack feels his face heat up, "She must have left it here."

"I was talking about Shen." Robby jokes, cracking one of those smiles that reaches his eyes. A knowing smile.

Jack just has to laugh. It is Robby after all, "I'll bring it to her next shift."

"Oh, I'm sure you will, brother. I'm sure you will. Along with a coffee and probably an engagement ring if it was up to you."

If only he knew, Jack thought.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

After that day at the barbeque, Jack and her fess up to Robby and Collins. They were both their respective best friends. It was getting too hard and they really didn't see a reason for it anymore.

Robby and Collins were about as surprised as Jack and her were when they found out about them giving it another go - so not surprised at all.

It was Tuesday night the third time they almost got caught. A Tuesday night meant Robby and Jack had a basketball game for the ED's rec team and Collins and her would go to yoga and for a walk. Probably stopping at some kind of wine bar along the way that Jack and Robby would eventually meet them at.

Tonight was different though. Collins and her took their walk straight to the park district that the hospital league played at because tonight was the championship game and the whole department was going to support.

“Oh look who decided to grace us with their presence.” Robby teases the second they walk into the gym.

The boys on the team are warming up - Robby, Whitaker, Langdon, Shen, and Jack. She feels Jack's eyes looking her up and down - she didn't wear the matching workout set for no reason. The biker shorts were short and tight. The sports bra was low cut and tighter. She had a sweatshirt on over it though - gives him something to take off later.

Jack just smirks and tosses her the basketball. She catches it with ease and effortlessly sinks a shot. She hears Dana and some of the rest of their work friends cheer from their spot in the stands.

“Ooo look! She’s got better game than you, Dr Abbot” Robby nudges his shoulder.

She rebounds her own ball and shoves it back into Jack’s chest as she responds. He’s smiling down at her. He wants to kiss her so bad, "Someone has got to show you fools how it’s done.”

Her and Collins cross the gym and take the steps up into the stands to meet the rest of the department.

"Don't turn around, it'll make it obvious, but Dr Abbot is staring at your ass." Victoria whispers it to her like it’s the most scandalous thing in the world.

Victoria is being so sweet, trying to be helpful - she doesn't want to laugh at Victoria but Dana's response makes her and Collins crack up. They can't help it.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, kid!”

Oh and Dana knows now too. Dana is like a second mom to her. She couldn't not thank Dana for wing womaning for her that night out on the lake. Even if Dana was a little floored at finding out what she had actually interrupted that night.

"Dana!" She tries to pretend to be shocked. But their facade is fading quickly and neither of them particularly care too much. The only thing they care about now is the bet they have going on who is going to be the one to accidentally get them caught.

"Cheers!" Dana starts as she hands over a solo cup full of wine that she had packed in the cooler next to her. "to Coach Abbot." Dana finishes.

Now she is the one staring. Jack pulls off his sweatshirt, exposing his biceps in the tank style jersey they've all got on. She huffs a laugh at the fact that every other department has a color jersey and the ED's is camo patterned because Jack paid extra to get it. She can't necessarily claim she is paying attention to the game but she is paying attention to him and how good he looks as he plays.

She also feels a tug of pride in her belly. It may sound stupid, but playing a pick up basketball game was once thought to be impossible for an amputee like Jack. She had gotten him the special running prosthetics for his birthday. She had spent an exorbitant amount of money for him to be able to participate in this rec league. But she would have spent much more because it wasn't about the money. It was about him feeling good, feeling like himself, being able to do all the things he loves to do - no matter what. That was priceless.

The game flies by. So does the wine. At some point Dana suggests that if she had enough wine on her they should drink every time Jack looks up at her when he makes a shot and everytime Langdon airballs a shot.

The team sits on the bench as they prepare for the last quarter. A groan comes from Jack, then a low 'Fuck' and she is doing her best not to seem overly concerned. Suspiciously concerned. He doesn't seem hurt. He's been moving great.

But then she sees it. The broken running prosthetic. He places it in his bag and replaces it with his normal prosthetic. He seems fine but her heart sinks for him. He must feel her or something because he turns around and gives her a small smile and a thumbs up. That makes her feel better. Collins nudges her shoulder, pointing towards Shen who apparently had just called her name twice.

She tears her gaze from Jack now that she knows he is okay, “What?”

“We need a fifth person if Jack can’t play anymore.”

“Okay?” She asks, confused. What does that have to do with her?

“Jack said you played basketball in high school.”

“Not particularly well.” She glares at Jack. He knew she wasn’t great. Sure, she had a bit of a shot on her, but she hadn't actually played a game of basketball in over ten years.

“We don’t need well, we just need able.” Langdon pipes up in a completely non encouraging way that only Langdon can.

“Convincing.” she deadpans.

“Please, we just need someone who knows the rules. Unless anyone else in the department would like to reveal that they are secretly a basketball legend.” Shen looks at the department, sitting in the stands behind their bench.

The department looks at her. She sets down her solo cup and stands up, making her way down the few stairs to the bench, “I want it on record that I’m a glass and a half of wine deep. And Dana is pouring so that probably is more like two and a half."

Everyone claps and cheers and whistles. Then Jack takes off his jersey to hand to her, she takes off her sweatshirt and the whistles get louder.

Her sports bra dips lower onto her cleavage than she was planning on ever letting her coworkers see. She didn’t even know she had the mark on the top of her breast until Langdon yelled from down the bench, “What are you hooking up with a teenager or something? What’s with the hickey?”

She is absolutely beat red and Jack actually does a bit of spit take from his water bottle. Jack and her were adults. They weren’t in the habit of giving each other visible marks, but marking eachother in places noone else can see? That was a different story.

"Oh my god." She has never tugged a piece of clothing on to her body faster. The jersey falls over her like a dress, going past her biker shorts and hitting mid thigh.

She quickly scans Jack’s chest as he pulls a plain back tshirt on, praying to whoever will listen that she didn’t leave a mark anywhere on him last night. She sighs in relief at the fact that the only marks are his permanent ones. The ones she loves tracing - his freckles, his birth marks, some scars. She’s made a habit out of kissing the scars.

She would maybe be a little sheepish about wearing a jersey with a big 'ABBOT' on the back in front of all of their coworkers if Langdon hadn't just made her hickey everyone's business.

"Okay on that note, let's finish this game." She manages to huff a laugh and rounds the bench to sit with the rest of them. Landgon is bent over, tying his shoe. She knocks him over and he mumbles something about probably deserving that. She feels a bit better.

Jack is up and in front of the five of them, explaining some play on his white board as seriously as he explains assignments in the trauma bay. She takes a peak at their teammates, to see if they are also taking this as serious. They are - deadly so.

She can't help but start to giggle as the buzzer goes off and they're making their way to the court. They all look like they've seen a dead body, “Guys, lighten up. We’re playing radiology, not the 90s Bulls.”

She feels a gentle tug on the back of her jersey, pulling her back to the bench where Jack is. She slowly turns around to him, her eyes basically popping out of her head. Telling him what her mouth can't say. Could he be literally any more obvious?

“What can I do for you, captain obvious?”

Jack lets the jersey go immediately, “Sorry - habit."

Her heart warms at that because she gets it. It's hard when they're at work - not to reach out and just touch each other. Not even in a sexual way, just in the way that they feel like extensions of each other and it's weird to not be able to touch when they want.

She's technically still on the court and he is technically at the bench, but he is the closest a coach can get to the sideline without being on the court and she is the closest a player can get to the sideline without being out of bounds.

Close enough to hear him say, "Just wanted it also on the record that I’ve seen you accomplish much more impressive, physically demanding activities than a basketball game while a glass and a half of wine deep. Like when you were hooking up with that teenager last night.”

She can't help but whip back around agape at him, a smile threatening to take over her face, “You’re a dog.”

"And stop looking at me like that."

"What? I’m in trouble for looking at my coach?"

"You're in trouble for looking at me like that with my last name on your back."

She opens her mouth to respond but is interrupted by the referee who she is pretty sure is just a resident from psychiatry, "If the Emergency Department coach is done flirting with their new player, we can get this fourth quarter started."

She hears Collins and Dana cackle in the stands. Jack and her are both flushed for what feels like the millionth time that night and not from the basketball. The whistle blows and then the fourth quarter is well underway.

There is maybe a little more than a minute left in the game and against all odds, they are only down by four. She hasn't done awesome. She hasn't done bad. She's hit a couple mid range shots. Missed some too. But now she was definitely flushed from the basketball - they'd been running up and down the court for eleven minutes straight. And radiology had substitutions.

Robby makes an easy layup and they're back on defense. Radiology is passing the ball around, trying to kill time. She hears Jack tell Langdon to foul his player with the ball. He does, the guy misses both his free throws, and now the ball is back in their possession - for likely the last play of the game.

Robby dribbles the ball up the court. Maybe three seconds left and now they are only down by two. He dishes it out left to her. She's out on the left wing, behind the three point line and closest to the bench. The ball reaches her hands. All she hears is Jack muttering, "Shoot".

So she does. The ball leaves her fingertips and swishes through the net right as the buzzer sounds.

She turns around to look at Jack, her jaw dropped and a little shocked. "You did it! We won!"

And then they're both laughing. And his arms are around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her around before they both remember where they are. And who is watching. He sets her down and Robby claps a hand on her shoulder, "Be careful or we're gonna put you on the team next year."

"Absolutely not." She huffs, sipping her water bottle.

"I'm sorry - were you guys just hugging? We're all not going to ignore that, right?" Shen can't help himself. She knew he wouldn't.

"She did a good job." Jack says nonchalantly. As if they embrace like that all the time.

"I've done a good job all season. Where's my hug?"

"Those are reserved for players our coach has a crush on." Robby teases.

"Michael!" Heather chastises from the stands and that gets everyone going even more.

"Michael? Since when do you call him Michael-" Langdon trails off - figuring out for himself what's going on.

Jack and her just look over at Heather appreciatively. She mouths a silent 'Thank you' to Heather for taking the heat off of them.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

After seeing his last name on her back at the basketball game, and honestly way before then too, Jack could not stop thinking about calling her his wife.

They both knew that was eventually happening. They'd talked about it. They went ring shopping. She gave him a general idea of what she liked and then she left him to his own devices. She still wanted to be surprised. And she was still waiting to be surprised because he hadn't proposed yet. She was almost positive he had bought a ring because he had been acting so skittish the past week or so.

They're working the day shift together the fourth and final time they almost get caught. Robby and Collins went on vacation and they're covering their shifts for the week.

Jack is charting at the nurses station, trying not to stare at her everytime she walks by. It's been irritatingly slow. At least when it's busy they have something to distract themselves from each other.

“So Dr Abbot, who is she?”

They both freeze at Perlah’s statement. Jack stops typing. She was on her way to go round on a patient but quickly pretends she needs to make a pit stop at the nurses station to listen in.

“Excuse me?”

“The girl I saw you ring shopping for the other day.”

So he had bought a ring. She smiles to herself. Even more so when she sees how red Jack is. She winks at him from behind Princess and Perlah's inquisitive stares.

“It’s probably the same girl who decorated his house over the summer.” She pipes up from the back of the station.

Princess and Perlah laugh along with her. They're murmuring something about how they thought his home had a woman's touch to it at the barbeque earlier that summer as they're called away from the nurses station.

They leave Jack alone quicker than they'd leave Robby alone. They know he is not an open book and they'll respect that but that doesn't excuse him from some teasing. Especially if Perlah has got first hand information on him.

Jack stares at her, a smirk twitching, fighting to appear on his lips. She peels out of the station and to the staff lounge. Jack is hot on her heels and the staff lounge is thankfully, very empty.

"I could decorate the house if I wanted to. You just like that stuff." She playfully rolls her eyes and humors him.

"Sure you could, Dr Abbot. Just tell that girl she did a good job, yeah? On the house and the future husband."

"I'm not completely incapable of having taste, you know? I've got a pretty big diamond ring to prove it."

“I heard. Planning on doing anything with that anytime soon?"

He kisses up her neck, slow as his hands rub at her hips. He whispers as he reaches her ear, tugs a bit with his teeth and then, "Planning on doing a lot with it. And you. Exceptionally soon, actually."

Then he's pressing her against the wall next to the door and placing his lips on hers. His hand snaps at the waistband of her scrub pants, then under her top, over her chest and splays across her throat - lightly squeezing it. She whimpers at the sensation, her lips parting a bit further and Jack takes the opportunity to lick further into her mouth. They can never get enough of each other, they don't think they ever will.

This was especially reckless of them, though. They were plenty guilty of sneaking away to the on-call rooms or a supply closet, but the staff lounge during a fully staffed day shift was just further proof they were not keeping this sneaking around stuff up much longer, if at all.

She moans his name, quietly, as she reaches for his waistband. Any other time, when his brain was working, Jack would grab her wrist and tug her to an on-call room. But she's already got his head hazy and he knows they can't go much further in the literal staff lounge but he lets himself relish in her soft hand stroking his hard length.

He tells himself he'll give them just a couple more seconds - tie themselves over until they're off their shift. Or at least can find a supply closet that locks. Their usual spot had been compromised two weeks ago since it no longer had a working lock. He is silently counting down from five in his head. Five seconds and then they'll be done. But god, she has no business being so damn good at this.

He only makes it to three when the door handle jiggles and they are flying off of eachother. He sits in the chair closest to them. He can't go back out there until he is a little less...excited. She has made it practically halfway to the staff pantry when Mateo steps in.

She snags a lollipop from the cabinet and unwraps it. Jack has to physically keep himself from groaning out loud when she winks at him and wraps her lips around it. Way slower than necessary, by the way. She waves hello to Mateo and then looks at Jack, "Hope you find your ring, Dr Abbot."

And then she is out the door, but not before she hears Mateo ask Jack, "You wear a ring?" She laughs to herself.

Oh, he'll have a ring on that finger soon. They both will.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Their luck wasn't going to last forever. They were honestly shocked they had made it almost eighteen months with only Dana, Collins, and Robby knowing. Sure, they got some suspicious glances from Shen or Ellis sometimes, but everyone else seemed none the wiser.

They had had the night shift from hell. Nothing tragic had happened, thank goodness, but it had been absolutely jam packed with cases. She doesn't think either of them had gone to the bathroom or eaten or even had a sip of water for the entire twelve hours.

She knew it wasn't healthy. It wasn't healthy for anyone, but especially for her. She had been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes as a baby and at this point in her life, she could guess what her blood sugar was without some kind of monitor inserted into her skin 24/7.

Of course, she typically wore one anyways. Especially at work. Like right now. She was dizzy and sitting at the nurses station, head in her hands, waiting for everyone to finally arrive for shift change so she could get the fuck out of there and go home with Jack.

She could feel the shakes coming on and she really did not want to pass out at work. She's kicking herself for not eating the many snacks Jack had been bringing her from the vending machine. Where was he finding the time to go get those? She had no idea. But the incessant flow of cases left every offering unintentionally untouched.

Jack was protective of her. Not in a weird, possessive way. But he loved her, cared for her, wanted her safe. Her passing out at work, or really anywhere, was not safe. He could also intuitively tell her blood sugar, high or low. And if she was having one of those days where she didn't want to take care of her diabetes on top of everything else - he was the one injecting her with insulin or making her a snack.

Her continuous glucose monitor was old, as a resident she could barely afford the one she had and then she just hadn't thought to change it once she got her pay raise as she graduated to an attending. She usually could just tell her sugar levels anyways.

Jack was the one who came home one day with a new one for her. This was like his super bowl. His two favorite activities - taking care of the love of his life and spending a lot of money on new medical gadgets - all at the same time.

This new one could connect to her phone, easily communicate her sugar levels in real time. When she never hooked that up because sometimes she just doesn't want to be constantly reminded of her diabetes, he just connected it to his apple watch.

That is how she knew the ED was busy. Because otherwise Jack would be standing over her, feeding her himself, until her blood pressure was back to a normal level.

It was almost like the thought of Jack summoned him. Jack was second to shift change, behind her. He strokes her hair a couple times and drops a bag of peach rings into her lap - taking advantage of the time alone.

“Sit and eat before you faint, please.” He says gently. He sets a glass of water on the desk in front of her.

“Jack, I’m fin-“

“You’re shaking like a leaf and your blood sugar is-“ he pauses and looks at his watch, “64 and dropping.”

“Why do you know her blood sugar?” Mel asks, as she walks up, genuinely confused.

Both Jack and her are frozen in place, staring at each other.

“And where did you get those peach rings? We don’t have those in our vending machines. Only at the store across the stre-“ McKay trails off as she puts two and two together.

“And why do you get her blood sugar sent to your apple watch?” Langdon chimes in, eyes darting in between the pair of them.

“Wait, is your glucose monitor connected to Abbot’s apple watch?” Whitaker with the questions now.

Jack just looks at her, shrugs, and digs into his wallet as they both laugh. “I knew you’d be the one to get us caught.” She mutters, satisfied with her victory.

He slaps a $100 bill onto her palm. She pockets it and tosses a couple pieces of the candy into her mouth, still chuckling.

“Get you caught?”

Robby, Collins, and Dana are laughing uncontrollably. Because of course this is the way they would get caught.

“If the peanut gallery could quiet down over there - I could let you all know that yes, her glucose monitor is connected to my apple watch because my fiance likes to play Russian roulette with her diabetes and that is not happening on my watch.” Jack's voice is serious but the big grin on his face is giving him away.

“Quite literally, actually.” she adds.

“Fiance?!”

"Yes, now hurry up with this shift change so I can get her home before she becomes a patient."

"I knew that house had a woman's touch!" Perlah yells from across the hall, not letting her patient get in the way of any gossip. Especially something this big.

Eventually, everyone calms down. Her blood sugar slowly rises as she eats. Jack stands next to her chair for the rest of shift change, her head leaning against his leg, his hand softly massaging the nape of her neck and her shoulders as the other hand takes notes for the both of them.

They wrap up shift change, not without a few jokes tossed their way, and then Jack is kneeling down to be eye level with her. "How you feeling?"

"Peachy." She giggles. So does Jack. They're both a little giddy right now. "Take me home?" she asks, intertwining his large fingers with her own.

"Gladly." He smiles as he helps her up and presses a kiss to the back of her hand, both of their backpacks on his back.

They don't escape completely unscathed. They both hear Langdon as they're halfway out the door, "Oh my god, that hickey you had at the basketball game was from Abbot!?"

"Nothing gets by you, Langdon." Jack claps him on the back as they exit.

Once they're outside, Jack presses a kiss into her hair and murmurs "I love you". Right in the middle of the ambulance bay - because he can now.

If he knew getting caught would feel this good he would have slipped a long time ago.

#dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbot #the pitt #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbot fanfic #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x female reader #dr jack abbot x you #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction

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haztory · 12 days ago

Text

bias.

masterlist | part two

— jack abbot x fellow f!reader; attending/fellow dynamic, age-gap (unspecified but assumption is reader is late 20s and up while jack is mid-40s), heavy plot, slow-burn, angst, character harassment (from an original male character), mentions of grief, mentions of jack's late wife, mentions of racism against staff, sexual content (mild), mentions of death, protective jack abbot, medical inaccuracies, mentions of needles, these two taking care of each other without realizing, ohio slander (srry!)

— word count: 11k

— summary: A week on the floor with Dr. Jack Abbot. Or: The multiple shifts in which Dr. Abbot's bias towards you shows.

SHIFT ONE, Sun-Mon, 4:15 AM:

“Did you tell Reno you were going to shove your foot up his ass?”

You pause your charting at the rolling cart outside of North 12 and look over your shoulder.

Jack stands behind you, arms crossed, with a raised brow and his lips pulled thin. Not sternly— you're familiar with what that looks like, have been on the receiving end of that a few times. This is a tempered concern, one he pushes down lest he get too involved.

“Yep.” You answer, simply. You return to your charting, fingers clacking loudly on the keyboard as the truth buoys in the air.

He huffs a breath, heavy. An attempt to roll out the strife that comes with the burden of being an attending. “You trying to make my Monday shitty?”

“Trying to keep you on your toes, old man.” You return.

He steps in beside you, leaning his good shoulder against the wall as he faces you. He keeps his gaze beyond you, scanning the movements of the ER.

“You wanna tell me why?”

“I don’t think you want to know.”

“I don’t.” He agrees.

“So, why are you asking?”

“Morbid curiosity.” He admits, dryly. Hazel eyes fall to you, swimming with a suppressed amusement that only a poet could accurately describe. “And he wants me to write you up.”

A sigh escaped your mouth, heavy and inconvenienced. You turn to him. “He told Anna Maria to spend less time speaking ‘her language’ and more time speaking ‘ours’ so she could fulfill his orders.”

His lips flick downward, heat infusing with the twitch. “You see it?”

“No. Caught her in the stairwell crying and she told me. Apparently, he’s been picking at her all night. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t the first one he said this to. So, I told him if I ever see him speaking like that to one of my nurses I’d take him to the parking lot and shove my foot up his ass.”

Jack nods. It’s weighty and slow as he digests your words, but there is otherwise no conflict on his face. The heat from before extinguishing. No shade change, no visible opinion. Resolute, resound, completely normal, when he says, without much effect, “Okay.”

The typical smart quip dry remark remains nowhere to be found.

He steps away from you and walks the short distance to the front desk and settles behind it. You watch him quietly, clueless as he grabs a post-it note from behind the desk and a pen from the cupholder and begins writing something. Completely unable to read the man.

“Okay?” You probe, drawing closer to him.

“I believe you.” He says.

A beat passes, filled with the low hum of the moving ER and the faint sound of his pen scratching on the paper. He puts the pen back into the cup holder then folds the paper up, tucking it into the breast pocket of his scrubs. It’s a simple thing yet the charged silence makes it feel like a great epic.

The fated paper written on account of your words. His face makes no betrayal of its contents. Even in your own obvious glance down to the paper then to his eyes, he makes no movement to provide clarity.

“I’m not apologizing.” You say after a minute.

“I didn’t ask you to.” Jack tilts his head to the side. “Would’ve done the same damn thing.”

Silence stretches, long and heavy as your eyes hold on his.

“I don’t like him.” You explain, as if that could help anything. Jack nods and this time you understand it to be one of agreement.

There’s no doubt of the new transfer’s value as a knowledgeable doctor, just as there is no doubt that PTMC needs another night shift doctor on the rotations. But within those resounding truths comes another of equal importance.

Dr. Maxwell Reno, the new fellow on the floor transferred from Cleveland three months ago, is a dick.

“Neither do I. But I don’t like anybody.” A flicker of understanding sparks in his eyes. “I’d pay good money to see you take him in the parking lot, though.”

A smile finally breaks onto your face. “Give me Friday off and I’ll do it right here.”

“Yeah, and get stuck with paperwork? Try again, city girl.”

“Worth a shot.” You shrug and he shakes his head. Only a slight downturned smile gracing his face..

A steadied quiet fills the space. The ER only slightly awake tonight with the small troubles. A young boy who had fallen off his bunk bed, a teenager on fluids from a stress induced migraine, and some other small plights that have trickled onto the floor. It’s hardly ever like this, the forbidden “quiet”. Usually a storm falls in shortly after but tonight, the quiet has been just that. Quiet.

There’s a slight wariness in everyone, the other shoe dangling from the ceiling that everyone keeps glancing to. Waiting for it to teeter, maybe even thud violently against the floor. And yet, nothing. For once, it’s a nice thing to wade into, because it leads to moments like this. Pleasant exchanges and generous smiles from the man usually averse to those.

“I can tell Anna Maria to come talk to you.” You supply, only to make his life easier.

He shrugs, considering it. “Sure, only if she wants to. But you handled it. Should be fine.”

“You gonna do it?”

“Write you up?” He asks. You nod.

He walks around the front desk, his slow gait bringing him before you. “Do I look like a school principal?”

“Grey hair had me convinced.”

He glares. The edge of your grin cracks wider. “I can’t professionally condone fellow-on-fellow crime—”

“—You have got to stop hanging with Shen—”

“—but you’re my only brawler on the floor and we’re running low on those. So no.”

“Brawler? It was one time!”

“You tackling that 37-year-old meth addict is a fan favorite.”

“Is that why you’re keeping me around?”

“It’s not because of your suturing, I can tell you that.” He leans comfortably against the desk, and for all the quiet murmurs that have gone around about Jack and his hard sarcasm and no-bullshit attitude, he is wildly comfortable in this moment. Eased, despite the constant glancing at the other shoe. Joking, at your expense. As he settles into an easy tease and his body relaxes, you find that you don’t mind him poking at you all that much. Not if it gets him like this.

You raise a brow at the mention. “Didn’t realize you all were thinking about it that much.”

“Every night before bed. Your screams help me sleep.”

You hit his arm playfully. “You’re so morbid.”

“Wait ‘til you see what I use to meditate.”

You feel, then, the tingling sensation of an audience on you. Glancing up, you see the quick scurrying of some nurses pretending to be occupied. The whites of their eyes seen at the very last second, just as they pull their stares away from the quiet moment.

“You should get out of here before the peanut gallery starts accusing you of bias.” There’s a thrum of dismay that pulses through you at the suggestion. The feeling of a good moment ending that you unknowingly try to cling on to. You stampen it out before the possibility of it shows on your face.

“Bias? Of what? I don’t like you that much.” The tone is dry, wholly Jack, and yet his eyes make home to a low burning whim of trouble like it always belonged there. “If anyone says anything, I’ll just take it from the expert and shove my foot up their ass.”

He taps his hand on your desk, a finalizing drum before he departs.

“Hopefully the metal one.” You call after his retreating figure.

“You know it.” He says without looking back.

The sound of your laugh resounds through the halls.

SHIFT TWO, Mon-Tues, 9:17 PM:

Meredith Sakman, a 67-year old woman who fell off her kitchen chair as she was trying to clean her kitchen light, sits before you in the examination room as you suture the superficial laceration sustained to the right side of her head.

Her hands, wrinkled with age and wisdom, fiddle with each other incessantly. Passing from twiddling with her wedding ring to drumming on her thighs as you weave thread through skin.

Sensing her discomfort, you fill the space. “So, Mrs. Sakman—how long have you been married?”

She seems startled out of the fog of her head, ”Oh, uh, 42 years.”

“Wow. Congratulations.” You hum, sincerely. “What’s the secret?”

“I don’t know. All these years and he’s still the person I look for when I walk into a room.”

“Must be an outstanding man.”

“When he wants to be. He’s a little bit of a grouch, but he makes me laugh.” She laughs, and the wistfulness of her voice grounds the room. You smile inadvertently at the details of her love.

“Are you dating anyone?” She asks curiously, just as your forceps tie one end of the suture.

“Uh, no. I am not.” Saying it isn’t a confession of fault. It’s fact.

The priority has always been your career. School first to get you to the good job that can get you to the rest of your life. You weren’t made for much of the troublesome youth, a fortunate detail your parents never took for granted. Smart head on your shoulders that got you the New York residency for three years, that led you to pursue the Pittsburgh EM fellowship—year one of two already knocked off your belt.

Dating—as desirous as it could be on the lonely nights—didn’t fit much into that picture. The type of men that were interested in dating you didn’t fit into that picture.

“Well that’s odd.” Mrs. Sakman heaves, truly stunned by your admission. “You’re a beautiful young woman. And a doctor. They should be rushing to snatch you up.”

“Well, you know. Guys my age tend to find that intimidating and often can’t measure up.” You explain simply and the older woman scoffs.

“You need an older man.” She smiles knowingly. “One who knows a couple of things and can be your match. I’ve had my fair share of them and they were quite the memories.”

You don’t settle too long on her words, no matter how much you agree with them. Have always been told that you needed someone mature, like you.

You move on. “I bet you were a hot gun back in the day.”

“Still am, sweetheart.” She giggles. “You know, my son is single.”

You give her a deadpan stare from above, halting the thread of your needle to meet her gaze.

“Mrs. Sakman—“ You scold and she holds her hands up in defense.

“He’s a very smart man! Has his own accounting firm, very sweet and I’m not saying that because he’s my son. He’s 40 and you’d make a good match. And with that face of yours, you’d give me beautiful grand babies.”

You laugh, tying up the final knot in the suture and setting the forceps on the cart beside you. The excess thread is cut off with your scissors. “Unfortunately, I’m not in the habit of dating anyone related to my patients.”

“Then I’d like to see another doctor, please. So that way I’m not your patient.”

You shake your head with a smile. “You are a trip, Mrs. Sakman.”

The exam room settles into a comfortable silence, filled with the overheard sounds of the life of the ER around you. The small chatter in the curtained room beside you, the hum of machines, the occasional shout or laugh from the nurses desk.

Just as you finish up your dutiful matters to her laceration, slipping the gloves off and directing your attention to her to explain proper suture care—

—she’s calling out to someone over your shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir! Can you be my doctor?”

Turning around, you see Jack is caught mid-stride walking past your room. His face scrunches in concern.

“Everything alright?”

“Mrs. Sakman—“ You begin hastily, mortification burning through you as he steps into the enclosed space.

Mrs. Sakman, in her rosy glory, plows on. Meeting the man with an effervescent grin that gives no cause for caution. “Oh yes, your doctor here is lovely and has taken such good care of me, but I’d like you to be my doctor.”

A brow raises, his eyes flicking to yours for explanation.

You flounder for a moment, your mouth opening and closing repeatedly. The chagrin you feel is red hot and there is little hope that it doesn’t reflect obviously in your face.

“Dr. Abbot—” You sigh, begrudgingly, fingers at your forehead as you try to rub the embarrassment away, “Mrs. Sakman is trying to set me up with her son but as I said, I do not date relatives of my patients.”

“Ah.” He takes the information in stride, nodding his head with latent interest. Cool, calm, and collected while you fluster over the discussion of your dating life.“You trying to take one of my doctors from me, Mrs. Sakman?”

“If you’ll let me.” She smiles

“You don’t have to put your son through that torture. Order me a pastrami deli sandwich and I’ll give her to you for free.” Jack tilts his head to the side, grabbing a pair of gloves from the wall. He pointedly ignores the loud offended gasp you emit.

“Let’s take a look at you.” Sliding the gloves on and stepping up beside the older woman, he begins a gentle survey of the laceration. Fingers slightly touching the wound, turning his head this way and that in review.

“Sutures look good. CT clean?”

“Not even a hairline fracture.” You present, “She’ll be tired, maybe a bit dizzy, but otherwise she’s good. Anticoagulants have been prescribed along with tylenol for the next couple of days. Gonna keep her for another hour for observation before discharge with a wonderful guide on how to clean her sutures.”

“Good.” Jack nods. “Well, unfortunately, Mrs. Sakman, there’s not much more for me to do that your current doctor hasn’t. So you will have to stay in her care.”

“You can’t make an exception for a poor woman?” She sweetens.

“Your flirtations won’t work on me, young lady.” He issues, low and exceptionally playful.

Mrs. Sakman giggles akin to a teenage girl, her face turning rosy as she waves Jack away.

“Besides—” Hie head gestures to you as he speaks to Mrs. Sakman, “—we call this one Rambo behind her back. We give her up, we gotta spend more money on security and that’ll come out of my paycheck.”

Jack takes off his gloves and tosses them into the bin, giving you a long, knowing look. Mirthful and wry, it holds against your dry, scolding one. Waiting for you to make a rebuttal, calculating the moves and ways it would come out of your mouth for him to counter. You anticipate it, depriving him of the reaction that he’s looking for despite the way his eyes dig into yours, searching for it. Looking like he couldn’t stop looking for it, like it would make his whole night if you just caved.

You stick your tongue in your cheek and he watches, fixated—the ghost of amusement casting over his face as he sidesteps you by the curtain’s opening.

Your eyes trail after him, doing so well in withholding until he tilts his head at you. Beckoning. Your lips quirk upward then, and it’s all he needs.

He breaks the prolonged charge with a sweet goodbye to your patient. “Have a good night, Mrs. Sakman.” Then, to you, he innocently says. “Holler if you need me.”

And then he’s gone, leaving from whence he came. The crater of his weighty presence settles in the room.

You turn to Mrs. Sakman, with a shake of your head and an exasperated smile on your face. “And that is why you don’t want Dr. Abbot as your doctor.”

“Is he seeing anyone?” She laughs.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a daughter you want to set up, too.” You admonish.

“No. But you should pursue that one. That look, I’ve seen that before.”

It’s a splash of cold water over the heat that was simmering within you. At the embarrassment, at his teasing. A voiced thought that has no place for existence in this room—in this department, in this moment, in your life.

(A voiced thought that has infiltrated your own a time or two. That has wiggled its titillating fingers into the wayward dream, made a mountain out of a molehill, leaving your chest heaving, your thighs clenching, and the thought of Jack Abbot vivid on your mind.)

You push on, clearing your throat and detouring before your embarrassment escalates to humiliation. “Alright, Mrs. Sakman. I’m going to print out a guide for you that tells you how to take care of your sutures.”

“I’m serious. Rules be damned, life’s too short. And he’s too handsome.” She insists just as you mean to step out of the exam room. You see only sincerity and genuity in her features. “I can see you with someone like him.”

Your mouth opens to find a response only to be met with the drying of your tongue. Words suddenly hard to connect, meaning difficult to find.

Finally, with little resolve and even less polish, you mutter, “Be back soon.”

SHIFT THREE, Tues-Wed, 12:05 AM

“Hey! You think you can take my shift, sunshine?”

Ellis’ voice stops you from your walk from the bathroom and into the break room where she and Hilly gaze curiously back at you. The resident and the nurse are two of your favorites on the night shift, stopping for them is akin to stopping for air.

“Rambo, brawler, sunshine. I’m getting all the nicknames this week.” You lean against the doorframe, peering at the two women who smile easily at you. “When?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“Can’t. I’ll be on vacation.” You tell her with pity.

“Oh shit.” Her voice is light despite the disappointment. A welcome refresh on the night shift. “Where you going?”

“Florida.” The excitement is barely contained in your words. The prospect of a long vacation—away from the noise, away from the stress, away from disinfectant and in the sun—is a long overdue one. That excitement is shattered upon Hilly and Parker’s audible groan of disgust. Your mouth drops in shock as you defend. “I’m visiting my sister!”

“Don’t get eaten by a gator.” Hilly mumbles.

“Or a disney adult.” Parker pokes and you roll your eyes.

“I will be at the beach, thank you very much. A whole week with a piña colada in my hand and a tiny bikini on.”

Parker stands from her seat at the break table and fills up her thermos from a water bottle in the fridge. “If you come back with sun poisoning, I’m gonna laugh.”

“I’m a pro at tanning.” You insist.

She raises a brow. “Even with a tiny bikini on?”

“Especially with a tiny bikini on.” You assert.

She shrugs with a smile. “We’ll see.”

“Talk to Abbot.” You tell her, returning back to the topic, “He might cover it.”

It’s almost comical the way Parker and Hilly’s faces scrunch in unanimous uncertainty.

“Not today.” Ellis says.

“It’s one of those days.” Hilly supplements. You nod in understanding, not entirely faulting the reasoning. Warnings were issued throughout the crew the minute the shift started. Steer clear. Dr. Abbot woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all.

“Unless you wanna ask him for me?” Ellis counters, curiously.

Your brows furrow. “Why me?”

“Because you would get a much different answer than I would get.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” You insist, off put by the implication that you have any kind of weight to you in respect to Jack. Jack doesn’t lean on anything, for anyone. He doesn’t waver, he doesn’t reconsider. He’s a straight shooter, calling things like he sees it, having answers before the situation even arises.

If anything, your familiarity and comfortability with him makes you more prone to being at the short end of his sticks. Voluntold for things less than appealing—like picking up more shifts, by his steadfast hand.

“He’d say the same thing to me that he would to you.”

Hilly and Parker, in another feat of supernatural alignment, look at one another. A silent discussion translated in the look before they return to you.

“Sure.” Hilly nods.

“Whatever you say.” Ellis supports. Your guffaw is met with Hilly’s boisterous giggles.

That is, until her laughter is unceremoniously shot dead. An arrow to the heart, a quick and frigid silence encompassing the room. A glance at her reveals widened eyes fixated on something over your shoulder.

The man in question stands behind you, lips in a thin line as his gaze bounces between the three of you.

“Are we a hospital or a talk show, now?”

The two women quickly make their excuses, shuffling out of the room in a speed remarkably unlike either of them.

“Nope, on the way out now—”

“—I just remembered I’m so busy—”

Leaving only the two of you to occupy the break room. You half expect him to throw a comment out to you, expelling you back to the trenches of the ER but he doesn’t. He steps into the room with a low mutter. Unintelligible and gruff, resounding of the ire that has become him since the night started.

The smell of his aftershave wafts past you. A cool mist twined with a musk. Inexplicably, him. Resonant of the stoic confidence that emanates off of him. Resounding man.

He’s tense as he approaches the counter, pulling a mug out of the cupboard and flicking on the coffee machine. It’s visible in the way he carries himself. The stance of a soldier back on war grounds, eyes skirting, glancing over his shoulder, listening for something. Not the sound of an incoming ambulance, not the sound of an intern struggling during a procedure. Something almost quiet, imperceptible. Known only to him, familiar to the memories that live in the lines of his face. A call with no name.

A call that will bring back all that he’s lost.

“Ellis needs her shift covered next Tuesday.” You toss the test balloon out, wondering if it’s enough of that kind of day for him to shoot it down with a precise blow dart or if there’s enough gentility in him to at least let it float by.

“Sounds like an Ellis problem.” He mumbles.

“Just throwing it out there. In case you happen to have a solution.”

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes clearly bounce between yours, digging for a moment, before he turns his attention back to the coffee machine.

“I’ll see.”

Floating by, it is.

“Everything good?” You ask his turned figure. Stepping further into the minefield, seeing what lands, which foot you place will step on the mine. “You’ve been working all week.”

He snorts, but there’s no humor to be found. “So have you.”

“Yeah, but I’m off for a week starting Saturday. When are you off?”

”Saturday.”

A quiet hangs in the air, filled with your expectancy. ”…that’s it?”

“And Monday.”

“You need more than that.”

One shoulder raises in a shrug. The smell of ground coffee fills the air as the pot bubbles to toil with the brew. Nothing particularly interesting and yet his attention is fixated. “Not dead yet.”

You hum, suspicious enough. “Rough night?”

“What makes you say that?”

The edge to his tone, that’s identical to the edge in his posture, that’s exactly like the edge in his attitude. Any and all of the above.

“You’re wired, today.”

The observation isn’t groundbreaking. It doesn’t shatter windows, or break the sound barrier. It is a recognized truth that sits in the air with little disruption. He says nothing. Only pours the pot of black coffee into his mug.

He’s not wearing his ring.

The black one that has stayed permanently fixed on his left hand, third finger.

There’s only been a handful of shifts in your year at PTMC that you’ve seen him without it—and they all felt like this. Rough. Tense. Like someone is one misstep away from receiving the glare that maims the career.

It’s not a secret that Dr. Abbot lost his wife to cancer a few years after he was medically discharged from the Army. Just the mythology that lingers in the air like antiseptic. It’s easy to piece together that the days of his rigidity happen to coincide with whether or not his ring is on.

And maybe that’s why you’ve been able to gravitate towards him. Not out of pity, but understanding. Respect. Admiration. Anyone with two eyes can tell that Jack carries himself with a significant weight—a testament to the life he’s lived, all that he has learned and lost. It’s a quiet confidence, an assumed burden that shows in his gait. A shining light that draws the helpless to him.

It’s hard to not be drawn to someone like him.

So, you try. Out of some loose notion of affinity, respect, out of some desire to give back, you push where you know you probably shouldn’t.

“You know…if you ever want to talk— about life, your day, what you ate this morning, something stupid you saw—” Your voice falters, hesitant for a moment before you find your steel commitment and push. “—grief. You can always talk to me. I’m here. At work. Out of work.”

His body goes still. Rigid. And stupidly, you wonder if this was the call he was listening for.

“I won’t pretend to know. But, I can listen. If you want me to. Just ask.”

You don’t think he’ll ever take you up on it. In fact, it’s laughable to think that your attending—the man leagues above you in experience, and knowledge, and wisdom, would willingly stoop down to his fellow’s standing and talk about his feelings. Men like him compartmentalize. It’s what makes him an excellent doctor. The immovable rock under the beating current of the river. The beacon in a rushing trauma room.

But a foolish part of you tries because… well, because you want to.

Because it’s Jack, at the end of the day. Battlin’ Jack with the edge in his eyes and the razor on his tongue. The first one you look for in a busy operating room, the last one you spot as you're packing up for the night.

Hazel eyes turn over his shoulder and find their spot on you with immediate precision. Boring a hole into you. Analyzing, configuring, understanding. He stares at you, in a charged stillness, almost like he were doing all three things at once and coming up empty on whatever he was trying to find.

“…Sure.”

You understand in the hesitancy that there is something hidden that he’s not wanting to share. You try to reason that his answer, as vague as vague comes, is a good thing, if only to save yourself from the disappointment of realizing that your attempt for connection has met a stoned wall. His words ring of finality, his signal to end the conversation.

It’s here where the berth between you two feels so enormous, the difference in your stages of life. Not in the quips of the shifts, not in the jests of your being his junior and your teases of his age. Not when you’re beside him manning a procedure and working in tandem with the makings of a well-oiled machine as though you were always meant to work with him. But here, where you catch Jack in the hush and see glimpses of the man under the doctor is where the reminder is so pointed.

Signed, sealed, and delivered with red tape in your line of sight. Caution, written in his crow’s feet. Tread lightly, in the wrinkle of his smile lines. Warnings you should heed.

And yet, keep pushing, echoes in the beat of your heart.

You nod, a small, resigned smile crossing your face. Leaving well enough alone.

“Okay.” Tapping a hand against the doorway, you begin to take your leave from the room.

“Oh!” You stop yourself, turning back to him only to find that his eyes are still trained on you. “Uh, your patient in fourteen said he was experiencing a burning sensation in his penis when I walked by.”

“He’s in for heartburn from eating a shit ton of takis.” He says, diffident.

“Guess he didn’t lick all the dust off his fingers.” You shrug.

“Sounds like it.”

You take your leave and in the wake of your absence, Jack takes a harrowing breath.

His therapist’s voice lingers in his head.

Doesn’t have to be the whole fleet. Doesn’t have to be announced. Just one is enough. Just a status update is all they need. All you need.

And maybe it's because he knows the sincerity behind your words, the invitation doesn’t feel like a hanging noose like it usually does. The prospect of talking about it—giving the status update—is akin to a standing death sentence for a man like him. Giving the unnamed a name, voicing it into existence, giving it the power to consume.

He’s getting better at it. Giving the small doses in the official setting, where it's him, four beige walls, and a man with a PhD. Taking it outside of there, though, is still the battling challenge.

But—when you say it, when you offer—

He pushes past it, doesn’t try to think too hard about it. Stocks it up on a shelf out of reach. Something to handle later, to forget about when he remembers to toss it out. Or, if the mood catches him just right in the safety of Dr. Mott’s office, he’ll bring it up. Discuss what it means, what he should do about it.

He doesn’t know. Only knows that a door has been left ajar, breadcrumbs of care and comfort leading a trail through and to you. Cracked open by your gentle hand.

Only knows that in the dormant hold of a wounded man and the slow becoming of a new one that he’s pushing himself to, Jack finds himself feeling the faint pang of hunger for something other than self-inflicted guilt and shame.

He eyes the breadcrumbs you left behind. Wondering, deep in the recesses of his conflicted mind, how they would taste.

He chugs his coffee, burns the taste buds on the tip of his tongue. Hopes that it erodes the want right where it began, cripples the potential to even try.

(It doesn’t.)

Thurs-Fri, 11:35 PM:

Jack is two forearms deep in the cracked thoracic cavity of an intubated 46-year old woman performing an EDT when the doors to Trauma One open.

“Dr. Abbot, can I speak to you?” Dr. Reno, communal night shift’s bane of existence and general nuisance, shouts into the operating room.

Jack has no more of an issue with the man than he does with anyone from Ohio—a general sense of pity coupled with a scrutinized squint of the eyes at some unsavory opinions that tend to come from the Buckeyes, particularly when the Steelers are playing—but the general opinion of the team’s feelings are not lost on him.

He’s heard the whispers, seen the way the crowd parts like the Red Sea when the man is around. Jack keeps his head down, for the most part. He’s not Robby. Aside from the general check-in and check-out, he doesn’t want to manage people. Personalities exist, but they don’t matter in the heat of the moment. He leaves them be, pointedly making quirks and general tendencies a side effect of the job. Pointedly makes it not his business.

Until it is.

“Don’t know if you have eyes, Reno, but I’m kind of busy.” Jack responds, quick and cool, before turning his attention to Ellis’s intubation, “Drop the left lung and pump another three CC’s. Pericardium is getting cut.”

“Find me after.” Reno says briskly, the doors shutting loudly.

Something vile and uncouth springs to his mind, annoyance cutting through Jack like a stabbing knife at the summoning. Something inappropriate, unprofessional, mildly threatening on a good day. Its sentiment is met in equal parts with Ellis’ mumble of “dick” which only makes Jack feel slightly better.

Scissors cut through the thin wall of the heart’s membrane and quickly spot the torn ventricle that’s spouting blood profusely.

“Found our geyser.” Plugging the hole shut with his finger into the rupture, he looks over to Walsh. “Ready to stop twiddling your thumbs, Dr. Walsh?”

“About time.” She rebuts, moving in beside him and beginning the suturing of the heart.

Then a moment later, as her forceps pull thread through delicate tissue, she says, “You should handle that.”

He doesn’t need clarification to know what she means. “And you should handle this.”

“I’m doing my job.” She pushes. “Do yours.”

12:05 AM

“I’m concerned about your other fellow.”

If time could be rewound, he’d go back to this morning and let the phone ring into oblivion. Ignore the call asking him to come in tonight and spend the rest of his day watching the Pirates play the Yankees. Would rather watch his team get their asses handed to them than have this conversation—knowing where it’s going, knowing who it's about. The regret of his decisions only grates him further.

Dr. Abbot doesn’t find Dr. Reno. Dr. Reno finds Dr. Abbot—contrary to the directive that interrupted the procedure in South-13.

Just as he’s stepping out of the OR and chucking his bloodied gloves into the trash bin, Maxwell is on him without preamble. That stabbing feeling—the unabated annoyance— creeps up his neck like a fucking burn. So much so that Jack has to roll it out before even looking at the new fellow.

His eyes flick to the man, deeply unimpressed at how dogged the man appears to be. He continues his path towards the workstation. Dr. Reno follows after him, quick on his heels.

“Her charts and prescriptions are suspect.”

“What, is there not enough work, man? You’re reading other doctors’ charting notes?”

“She and I have disagreed too often about standards of care.”

“Then leave it as a disagreement and move on.”

“Just—” Dr. Reno grabs onto Jack’s arm, halting him in place. It earns the man a putrid glare, Jack’s eyes boring into the hand that lingers on his bicep until Dr. Reno takes the hint and quickly removes it. “—look at it, Dr. Abbot. I’m concerned.”

Reno holds out a folder, one that Jack fights the urge to grab and chuck across the ER. There are no niceties when Jack takes it, his ire blatant as he yanks the folder from the man’s hand.

Your name is the first thing he sees on the document. A usual tender, easing thing within him that Jack refuses to draw attention to—the sight of your name below his on the schedule set for the same shift, the pop-up notification of your name in the work group chat whenever you send a text. Something he would continue to dutifully ignore were it not for the fact that the notes labeled as “suspect” are notes you’ve made on a patient dated a week and a half ago.

He scans the timeline, red quickly filling his vision. Steel becomes him the minute his gaze flicks up to Reno, finding the man looking back at him expectantly.

“This is your smoking gun? Really?” Reno nods, emphatically. Jack grits his teeth. “Get back to work, Maxwell.”

“The patient was coughing up blood and complained of chest pain. CT confirmed it was a pulmonary embolism which should’ve resulted in a cardiac catheterization.” Reno insists, bulldozing past the point of professional restraint.

“Not if it wasn’t severe enough.”

“It was enough for the patient to be transferred for admission and OR to take care of it. This is a clear case of delay in proper care.”

“You’re upset that one of our doctors isn’t trigger happy with a knife? That she—” Jack looks to the chart record again, spotting a note that makes him more irritated, “That she correctly prescribed and provided anticoagulants that reduced patient discomfort and clearly instructed the patient to follow up with their PCP the next day.”

“And him being on the schedule for the upstairs OR today?”

“A week and a half after the patient’s visit to the ER. Clearly not admitted through us and yet treated in our hospital. Wonder what that could mean.” Jack bites sarcastically. “Oh yeah, that the patient followed up with their PCP and it was decided to remove the clot.”

“Dr. Abbot—“

“Stop following up on other doctors' charts. Focus on your patients. And don’t bother me with this shit again unless it's serious.” The folder is shoved unceremoniously into Reno’s chest. “Whatever beef you got against her, don’t bring it to my floor.”

It’s when Jack is halfway down the hall that another remark is called out.

“I didn’t realize you were so biased.”

His leg aches in the socket of his prosthetic, a sign of his lowering threshold. The pulse of blood felt worse in the stub more than anywhere else. Turning, his eyes narrow.

“Excuse me?”

”You should’ve written her up. You know you should’ve.” Reno explains as Jack steps—stalks—closer. “It was a threat against another doctor. Management won’t be happy that you’ve overlooked it.”

Abbot stands before him, his chin tilting up just as his jaw clenches. “I didn’t overlook anything. I’m well aware of what happened and I’m choosing to handle it differently.”

“You handled it wrong.”

Jack's eyes narrow. A long steadied exhale is released, like a bull catching sight of the red. “You caught me on a good day. Take a walk, Dr. Reno. If you can’t be a team player and get your shit on straight, then consider this permission to get out of the ER for the night. Your choice.”

“You can’t—“

“Make. Your choice. Before I make it for you.”

12:17 AM

You’re on the back of a motorcycle with the wind in your hair when a phone call interrupts. Opening your eyes is like pulling yourself out of tar, but the caller ID does the hard work of taking you out of the depths of your REM cycle.

“Hello?” You ask, voice groggy and tired.

“Sorry to be calling you so late. I know it’s your day off.” Hilly’s voice sounds on the other end of the phone. “Any chance you can come in and work an 8-hour?”

“Why? What’s going on?” You’re already sitting up in your bed, the decision to head into work practically made.

“Reno had to head out for an emergency. We’re short one.”

“Oh shit.” You mutter. You raise the heel of your palm to rub into your eye. “I didn’t realize I was next on the rotation.”

“You aren’t. Dr. Abbot asked for you.”

If the decision wasn’t made before, it was made now. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“You’re the best.” Over the line, you hear from a familiar but faint voice in the background, “She coming in?”

“Yes!” Hilly calls, before turning her attention to you. “Dr. Abbot gave a thumbs up, but it was a grateful one. I can tell.”

12:52 PM

“What took you so long?” Jack calls over his shoulder, seemingly already knowing you’ve entered the ER without even glancing backward.

You watch as the back of his head tilts up to the status board, then back down to his notes. You saddle up beside him, placing your bag onto the nurses desk for shoving into a locker later and lean against the workstation.

“Yankees beat Pirates ten to four. I should be out on the town. You’re lucky I’m here at all.” You push back and he tuts, annoyed. Whether at you or the game, you’re unsure, but it brings a smile to your face.

You peer into his notes. If he minds, he makes no visible sign of it.

“I’m delighted, truly. Nothing screams lucky more than watching the unit crash and burn while we wait for you to grace us with your presence.” He retorts, but there’s no venom to his bite.

“You’re smart, Dr. Abbot. You can handle it.”

”Yeah? Then what do we pay you for?”

“PTMC needed the city flair.” You smile widely at him.

“The shitty one?”

“The New York state of mind. The wins and all. You’ll understand when the Pirates finally fix their offense in the outfield.”

“Don’t forget the stellar humility.” He hums, noncommittal. “And leave the Buccos out of this.”

You tilt your head at him. “You don’t like me because I’m humble.”

“Like implies affection.” He replies, easily. “Tolerate is more accurate, city girl.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” You sigh. “I get to leave early tomorrow though, right?”

“Extortion.”

“Tit for tat.”

An announcement rings over the intercom. An inbound GSW, four minutes out. The room turns then, those settling in the front half of the floor preparing in an orchestrated chaos for the arrival. Jack grabs a pair of gloves from the box affixed to the wall, tossing them over to you before grabbing and slipping on his own. Jack finally looks over to you, his eyes doing a quick once over of you before he settles back on your face—readied, but easy.

Seamless and still anticipation constructing your features, determination filtering in through the artful weave of your calmness. You stand sliding gloves onto your hands welcoming the impending disaster like it were an old friend.

If there were nerves to be had on you, he couldn’t find them.

It only compounds the ridiculousness of Reno from earlier. Only furthers Jack’s unwavering lack of doubt when it comes to you. You stand awaiting the incoming trauma like you hadn’t just woken up half an hour ago, like you’ve been standing beside Jack the entire night when it should be Reno, and relief hits him like a truck.

A semi that’s caught him like a deer in the headlights, loosens the strain that’s fixed permanently in the column of his neck, makes the ache in his shoulder pointedly less. One held breath away from feeling.

“Thanks for coming in.” He says, suddenly serious.

Thanks for coming when I asked, he means.

It startles you, the turn. The unexpected stoop into sincerity. Eyes bounce between his, unaware of where it comes from. He stares back, unabashed with the earnest yet otherwise unreadable.

Nonetheless, you take what he gives you.

“Yeah. Of course.” There is equal genuinity in your voice. You nod your head, softly. “Anything you need.”

He nods, once. Then turns to watch the loading bay doors. “Make me proud tonight and I’ll think about Friday.”

“Getting soft on me, Dr. Abbot.” You tease, but it holds no real feet to fire. It’s not ribbing, nor is it a condemnation. Just an observation that sits between you two like a shared secret.

“Yeah, well.” Jack shakes his head, but there’s no concealing the way his lips twitch upward. You both decide to leave well enough alone.

Turning in time with him, you pull on his surgical gown and tie it at the back. He ties your own, his hand lingering on your back when he finishes.

SHIFT FOUR, Friday-Sat, 8:47 AM:

You don’t get to leave early.

You take a sip from the porcelain mug of lukewarm coffee you’ve taken from the breakroom and continue your endless stare into the slow revival of the world.

The dark of the sky begins to dilute with the morning rise, the cold breeze of the spring air a welcomed remedy to your flustered skin. The benches at the park beside the hospital are uncomfortable, pointedly so. The longer you sit, the further the aches in your back that made their wonderful appearance halfway through your shift demand your attention—but this is what you need.

A tether to reality, a removal from the endless spirals of a hurried mind. A way for your feet to finally settle on the firm, stable ground. No running, no long stretches of standing, no burning in the flex of your calves. Just dirty sneakers on the gravel, feeling some semblance of stillness even as life begins to slowly wake up around you. Hands feeling the fading warmth of the drink you hold tightly.

Birds chirp melodically as streaks of orange break up the sky. Your chest starts to feel like it isn’t on the brink of collapse from the erratic beat of your heart. You can finally breathe.

The new day, in. The old one, out.

“It’s not the worst of vices to have, but a sixth cup of coffee is pretty drastic. Even for my standards.”

It’s rather difficult to align your inner chakras when Jack’s voice grows closer to you.

The heavy sigh you exhale conveys exactly how you feel about it. “I’m not in the mood, Jack.”

“First name, huh?” The sound of his voice is another stabbed knife into the pantheon of wounds that decorate you today.

“Off the clock. Formalities be damned.” You return, annoyed.

He steps in beside you, his steadied gait and imposing figure filling your periphery. A vision cladded in black scrubs that you refuse to look at. He makes no further movement, surveying you with a neutral look on his face. Not a new thing from him, and certainly not for the first time it’s happened tonight.

Jack has a staring problem. Always watching, hawk eyes knowing things before they reach his ears. A dutiful sentinel on the floor and the subject of the running joke you have with a few of the nurses about the amount of eyes he has on the back of his head. Lisa and Hilly think there’s at least four, one for each cardinal direction. You’ve got money on the table that there’s eight pairs, minimum.

It’s his job as attending to be tuned in to everything that happens on his shift but it’s uncanny the way he notices everything.

(“Military.” Ellis had said simply, eyes focused on charting.

“X-ray vision.” Shen chirped with a shrug and a sip of his iced coffee. You nodded in agreement.)

It’s not a hunch, or a theory, or a girlish fantasy to say that all eight pairs of Jack’s eyes were on you tonight. He appeared out of thin air when things went sideways on your cases. Seemingly easy patients turning chaotic within the blink of an eye and each time, he was there. Beating Ellis and Shen to the punch, pulling gloves over his hands and giving his assessment in steady confidence and simple authority as he fell into step beside you.

Assisting you with perfect timing the first two times your patients coded, leading the procedures for the next one, and taking over completely on the final one.

With his backpack slung over his shoulder and his hand shoved in the pants of his scrubs, Jack does as he’s done all night long and stares at you. Deeply, intently, unnervingly. His face betraying no tangible thought as he keeps you within his line of sight.

And just as you’ve done all night, you keep your gaze in front of you. Fixated on the park before you.

There’s no telling if he watches out of concern for your wellbeing or others. Determining if you were a complex puzzle needing to be solved or maybe a potential bomb needing to be diffused.

He’s got a morbid connection to the latter. All the more reason for him to stay away.

In standard Jack fashion, he doesn’t.

“That bad, then.” His words are light, almost blasé. It fuels a fire that you were unsuccessfully trying to stampen out.

You scoff. “Yeah. Pretty fucking bad.”

He moves, then. Shrugging his backpack off, he places it beside the bench and sits next to you. Close, too close. Out in the open and away from the confines of sterile white walls and yet you still feel like you’re cornered. Drowning in the nearness of him, in the substantial feel of his presence.

He takes a breath before finally saying, quietly, like a man trying to tame an angered animal, “It wasn’t personal—”

“Felt personal.” You bite back, bitterly.

“You were clouded.”

Finally, your head snaps to him. Disbelief furrows in your brows. “That’s bullshit.”

Your heated and sharpened fury meets his stoic and anchored one, looking at him for the first time since you were pushed aside in trauma three. No betrayal of guilt resides in the lines of his face, only true honesty and sincerity.

It only makes you angrier.

“You undermined me in the middle of a procedure. In front of interns, in front of residents. This isn’t my first time around the block, Jack. It was a resection. I can do those in my sleep and you know that. This was no different.” Your head shakes incredulously, the frustration surging forward with little reservation. And while the anger is there, simmering deep in every crevice of your words, pinching your lips and narrowing your eyes, the hurt bleeds through, try as you might to hold it back.

“You might as well have just told the whole team you think I don’t know what I’m doing. That would’ve been infinitely better than telling me to step aside.”

The corner of Jack’s lips flick downward, a sign you’ve come to understand as his clear disagreement. They purse forward as he thinks for a second. Registering the extent of your words.

He leans his elbows on his knees. Thinking for another moment, until he says, “This isn’t New York.”

Your head pulls back in offense. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re not alone in a department doing drastic shit by yourself because you have to, anymore. You’re here, we’re a team and in case you forgot, you’re my senior fellow. My responsibility. And I’m not going to let you drown.”

“I-I wasn’t drowning. I had cases, they got resolved and I moved onto the next one—”

“You had four codes today.” He interrupts. “You don’t just move on from that.”

Your breath hitches. It’s the actualization of the heavy weight, the one that’s been sitting on your chest all night. Constricting your breath, keeping your feet moving, and hands fidgeting. Somewhere in between keeping your head down and switching from one patient to the next, it hadn’t registered that he would have tucked the information away as something other than a performance metric.

A stupid notion, one clearly without any semblance of thought, because it’s Jack.

(The Jack you’ve had all week, the one who teases as a means to compliment, who has quietly deferred to you when questions arose during procedures, who has given approving looks from the doorway over the course of the week. Jack that has brought you coffee on random occasions when the lulls have kicked in, in the mug he knows belongs to you, the one you sip at now. Jack who knows you’ve entered a room before a word comes out of your mouth.

Jack, who is both a breath of fresh air and the halting cause of your own when the hazel of his eyes fall on yours from across a hectic room. Concern etched in the irises, a quiet check-in, a quick review of your status, before moving on to the next thing.

Jack, Jack, Jack—whose name fits too well in your mouth, that you’re too keen to speak out loud just because you want to.)

He says the truth simply. Without blame, unlike the raging guilt that courses through you. Without lecture. Words uttered incredibly soft for a man forged from fire and brimstone.

“None of them were easy and none of them were your fault. Just really bad fuckin’ luck that they landed on you. It’s enough to weigh on anyone.”

“My day had nothing to do with that procedure. I’ve been through worse, I can handle it.” You lie, stubbornly.

“It had everything to do with it.” He continues, holding your gaze dutifully. As though he could stare his truth into you—make you physically see his meaning. “I saw that look in your eye. You were gonna hack at that man’s body if it meant a single chance of survival.”

“Because there was a chance, Jack. If you had just let me—“

“Sepsis from secondary peritonitis. The bowel was necrotic. There wasn’t.”

“Then let me find that out! You push Shen, you push Ellis, I’ve seen you push Mohan. I get one bad day and I’m treated with baby gloves? I get kicked off a procedure? I’m a fellow, Jack. I should’ve been allowed to do my job.”

“I push when there is something to learn. He was gone the minute he rolled in through those doors. There was nothing to learn in that.”

“So I get punished for wanting to try?”

“I stepped in because you weren’t doing it for the betterment of the patient, you were doing it for yourself.”

He renders you speechless. Your face falls from tense anger to a shattered hurt. You fall against the backing of the bench with defeat. The throat tightens in that familiar way that it’s been doing all shift. Your eyes start to sting with the swell of tears that you try to swallow down, force away before they threaten to spill.

Still, Jack watches. Assessing, preparing, readying himself for the fall that he’d seen coming from the beginning.

“This isn’t a question about what you can do.” He says quietly, a whisper in the wind. A reassurance uttered in the safe space between you, broken only by your shuddering breaths. “You’ve been off kilter on me since you got that little girl. I get it. No one blames you for that. You went into this one hoping you could get a save after the ones you lost. And if you want to pretend there was a chance, fine. You can sleep knowing that I made the call on this one. That this falls on me. Not you.”

And you’re smart enough to read between those lines.

It was never about competence. It was a staged intervention. Jack’s way to release some of the pressure off of the cooking chamber that has been you all day. To place part of your burden on his shoulders.

Making sure that the four codes you were responsible for tonight didn’t turn to five.

The heat of your bruised ego simmers low, water poured onto the embers and leaving a smoking ash of your tender and fragile heart. Heavy with the stress of today, fraying from the guilt that eats at you. You turn to him, your eyes red-rimmed and burning with unshed tears that only inch forward the minute you meet his gaze.

His focus on you isn’t intimidating. It’s a familiar shroud of comfort, a soft place to land. He listens, watches, waits. Beckoning you into him, wanting you to let go.

“It was just like New York again, Jack. It felt like everyone I touched died.” Your voice breaks at the admission. “I can handle it, you know, when it’s bad. It sucks, but I can put it away and keep going. But today it was—these were simple ones.”

Your breath catches when you feel him move closer to you, his thigh intentionally pressing into yours. Another tether to the ground.

You rub your hands against your face roughly. “Like what— what do you mean I lost an eight-year old to pneumonia? That’s routine, we go through that all the time. I did a year in peds for fuck’s sake. I had her— for a second I had her.”

An incredulous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Absurdity is hardly a humorous thing and yet, it escapes with the fall of a tear that you quickly wipe away. “Then it was the dad with the DVT who just dropped on me. He was ready to be discharged. I was on him for two hours and nothing.”

“Then the car accident came in and I—I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t shake them from me. It was just one after another. And I tried but…just wasn’t good enough.”

He interrupts quickly, leaning in close to you. His voice fusing with a well-meaning reprimand, “Don’t do that. That doesn’t do anyone any good.”

You sigh, tearfully and look to him. He’s close, close enough in your space where his shoulder is touching yours and you see how the lines on his face deepen with his intentful stare into you. It only capitulates the need to fall.

“I know Reno’s been looking at my charts. And I know he brought it up to you.” You tell him. The careful composition of the man made of stone fractures, then. Surprised, aggrieved, almost furious. “And I guess—I don’t know. When you told me to step aside, it felt like you were believing him a little bit.”

The speed in which he dissuades the thought is comforting. “That wasn’t what that was. That’s not why I took you out.”

“I know.” And you do. But it still felt like it.

Jack shakes his head, drilling truth into you with an emphasis that could hardly be missed. Needing you to understand exactly what he meant. “Whatever Reno thinks about you, fuckin’ forget about it. It doesn’t matter—”

“I don’t care what he thinks. He’s an idiot. And he’s from Ohio.” You scoff. “I care what you think.”

It’s his turn to be rendered silent. Not out of shock or stupor—but at the need to hold back everything that creeps up in that moment. Tiny gospels that bang against the caverns of a hollowed heart, carved empty from the brutal grip of a world that has taken too much. Truths that beg to be let out. The unnamed that claws up the soft tissue of his throat that begs to be given a name, to be heard.

The truth is that you had been thorough all night, fast on your feet, a helping hand where needed. A forceful hurricane blazing through the trauma bay with a proficiency that justified your standing as a fellow. And Jack had an eye on you all night not because you were cracking but because he had to make sure you were still standing. Still breathing. Not as part of his job but because—

He needed to.

And the minute he saw the slight waver, saw the way it was beginning to seep into you, he became a man of two minds. No longer able to compartmentalize. His eyes focused on the patients in front of him, his ears attuned to the sound of your voice on the other side of the room. Listening to the rises and falls like a hymn, reverent in his pious focus.

How his only way to fix all that was wrong for you was to be involved himself��handle it himself. Wedge into the web of you that’s been stretched thin and mend the cracks, bring you back to steady and safe ground.

Bring you back to him.

He doesn’t say any of that. Restrains the flooding thoughts with a wrangled rope and ties it hard enough to cut circulation. Ties the yearning before it makes an ample fool out of everything.

Instead, he goes for the standard. The known truth, the easy one that lives beneath the dry teases and offhand remarks.

“If it matters that much, you knocked it out of the fuckin’ park today. You touched more patients today than anyone else on the floor, gave excellent care in the chaos. You did damn good, today.”

Your nod is empty, tired. Dry of any attempt at human dignity. And it humors you that just a few days ago you were the one offering him comfort.

“How’d you know how many I was on?” You ask after a moment.

“…I was keeping count.”

“Really?”

”You drink more when you’re stressed. Like caffeine will make you focus harder.” He huffs at the surprised look on your face. “Told you. You’re my responsibility.”

“MD, therapist, dietician, and babysitter.” The laugh that comes out of you is wet. You sniffle. “Sucks to be you.”

“Most days, but not today.” You huff out a laugh and his smile slants. He flicks his head to the side. “C’mon. You need to sleep. Florida’s calling your name, God knows why.”

He stands with a grunt, working out a knot in his neck before turning and holding a hand out to you. You take it, allowing him to lift you from the bench with your own pained sigh.

You rub at the ache on your back. “I’ll try but I’m five coffees deep—“

“—six.” He corrects.

“Six.” You repeat, feeling gently warmed at his record keeping. “Don’t think my buzz is going to let me sleep. Try to get some shut eye for me, though.”

“Don’t waste your wish on me. I don’t sleep much.”

“Do—do you wanna get some breakfast, then? I just—” The words come out before you have much cognizance to reel them in. Exhaustion and guilt and all of its disarming siblings pushing the request out. “I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Just as they hit the air, you realize how silly it is. You don’t expect him to take you up on it—too aware of the gap, the existing berth that lives loudly in between you two.

“Yeah. Of course.” He interrupts. Says it as sure as the air he breathes. Says it without hesitation and even less reservation. As if you couldn’t have asked anything more obvious.

“Anything you need.”

And in your colored shock, in the repeat of the words that were once aimed at him, here—that’s when you see it. Or rather, feel it. The charge, the shift, the inkling of something else.

Something beyond your attending. Beyond the stature of the leader who knows everything, who can impart wisdom just as much as he could take it away. Beyond the monolith who pushes you to be better, that draws the lines firmly in the sand of duty and obligation, of giving it your all and knowing when to let it go.

There, in the softness of his hazel eyes settling on yours and the small tilt of the corner of his lips pulling upward, is a man. A gentle one, with something soft wedged in the center of his steel chest that he’s torn down a wall and unlocked just to show you.

Only you.

Something on the precipice of becoming sweet, almost ripe for picking.

Something you don’t know the name to, yet, but can feel deep in parts previously unknown to you that you desperately want to learn more of as the sun rises on the two of you.

SHIFT ONE, Tues-Wed, 6:48 PM

“Look at what the cat dragged in.” Dana’s smile bleeds into her voice as you step onto the floor. “Smelling of coconut and looking sunkissed.”

The familiar smell of sterile sanitizer and disinfectant is a welcome one. The pat of your sneakers on the tile floor is a familiar anthem as you enter the ER.

You hold your hands out and bow to your awaiting crowd, “In the very flesh.”

“Surprised you don’t have a flower in your hair.” She teases, her smile growing warmer as you draw in closer.

"Thought about it but I figured that’d be bragging.”

“Indeed it would.” Dana busies herself with the final details in preparation of handoff. You come up to the desk, leaning your elbows against the surface. A quiet moment before your shift starts. “You get to stay at the beach?”

You hum, pleased. “All week. In the tiniest bikini known to man.”

“Atta girl.” She smiles.

“There’s sunshine.” Ellis calls from down the hall, and you see her approach the workstation looking like she’s already gotten a head start on her rounds. “Welcome back. How’re the nieces?”

“Too stinking cute. I got some photos you’re gonna die for.” You sigh, wistfully. “I missed them.”

“Not gonna leave us for Florida now, are you?”

“Ask me at the end of my shift.”

“Nah, she won’t.” Dana coos, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and giving your arm a loving rub. “Pittsburgh won’t force our sunshine out just yet.”

“Abbot would put a stop to that before it even started.” Ellis jests, and you raise a brow.

“What?” You ask.

Dana ignores you, directing her stare to Ellis. “Maybe even get some people written up.”

“Maybe even put some people in a disciplinary hearing.” Ellis returns.

Your eyes bounce between the two. “Okay, what the hell don’t I know?”

“Nothin’.” Ellis smiles, turning on her heel.

Dana pats your arm, lovingly. “Happy to have you back, sweetie.”

7:47 PM

“Hilly, I’m going to put in an order for an EKG for Mr. Breyer. You mind making sure that he’s bumped up on that one?” You tell the nurse as you both exit the exam room.

“Can do!” She chirps.

“Oh! And—“ She turns on her heel at your call, looking at you curiously. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

Her brows furrow. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something with Abbot.” Understanding floods her face.

“What have you heard?” She asks, voice dipping low.

”Just a comment. Something about a disciplinary hearing.”

”Oh my god, I can’t believe no one’s told you.” She crowds near you, excitement radiating off of her. “Not confirmed, but heavily suspected because Anna Maria heard it from Jesse who heard it from Perlah who saw Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot talking about it. But— Dr. Abbot got Reno suspended.”

“What?” Shock raises your volume, which Hilly quickly shushes you. You lower your voice in apology, “For what?”

“Harassment. Unprofessional conduct.”

“Against who?” You ask, already suspecting the answer.

“Four people. Three nurses—”

“Three!” You gasp. You had only known about the one incident, heard some things about from the others. But the extent remained only in what you saw in the stairwell with Anna Maria.

“All Latino. They all went to Dr. Abbot. Apparently he was keeping notes on certain racist comments made.” Your mind flickers to the image of the note he tucked into his breast pocket, and its unsurprising then that he would’ve known about it all along.

Eight pairs of eyes always watching.

“And the fourth?” You ask, curiously.

Hilly’s eyes seem to gleam brighter when she says, “You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Dr. Abbot raised it up to Dr. Robby who raised it up to Gloria and so on.”

“Harassment against me?” You ask again, unbelieving.

“Yeah. Something about sabotaging your performance. Depending on the source, some say he talked about some of the comments he’s heard Reno say to you or the arguments he would start in the operating rooms. But everyone agrees—”

Hilly pauses for a moment—whether for dramatic effect or to convey the extent of the magnitude of her next. Either way, you remain fixated on her. Waiting, watching for her.

“—they’ve never seen Dr. Abbot angry like that.”

9:51 PM

You don’t get the chance to talk to him—officially.

Only make him out in the background of the hectic shift, see him at the bedside of an incoming trauma before rushing into an OR, stepping in beside him and slipping the gown on to assist.

There’s the sly comment about your absence—Hope you didn’t forget how to do your job, city girl.

One you meet in equal time—Watch and learn, old man.

Sly smiles exchanged, the meeting of tender glances, the return of the familiar. Into the feeling.

He catches you at the rolling cart outside of North 12 again. A moment finally spared in the frenzy of the night that he willingly decides to lean into. He puts his good shoulder against the wall, surveying you with a steadied eye.

“How you feeling?” He asks, but you can make in the tone that something belies the words. A veiled test, the subtle making of your person upon return to work. A gauge of what you’ve heard.

You meet his test balloon with an easy smile. Happy, content.

“Good.” You say to him, true and meaningful, “How are you?”

He watches for a moment before nodding, satisfied. “Good.”

There’s not much to say about what may or may not have happened while you were gone. At least nothing you trust to not lay waste to the goodness of the moment. There’s nothing to explain or be explained.

You know why he did it. He knows you know why he did it. You both decide to leave well enough alone. Trusting each other like second nature.

A beat passes. “D’you relax? Take photos?”

You nod, emphatically. “Yeah. I gotta show you the ones I got from this alligator farm we took my nieces to. You’d get a kick out of it.”

“So long as you skip over the bikini ones.” A smile etches on his face. Loose and light, the same familiar song and dance.

“C’mon. You don’t even want to take a peek?”

“Not unless you want to keep me up at night.” He raises a brow. “You can keep your Florida sunburns to yourself.”

“Well, just picture my screams, then. That always puts you to bed, right?”

“Not this time, it won’t.”

You take it to mean that the image of your body will scar your attending, which forces a scoff out of your mouth. Rolling your head to him, you intend to make faux hurt known. But, in meeting his gaze, you see something else entirely.

A toiling knowing that runs the quip on your tongue dry. It’s that something from before, tainted with a depth that you haven’t seen from him.

The air heats slowly, flint to stone igniting the mutuality of piqued interest.

For a second you realize that maybe, the heavy gap that you’ve always figured lies between you two wasn’t so hefty from the extent of the said differences in life and experiences—but heavy for another reason altogether. For all the things left unsaid.

It brings an image to your mind—one that has entered into the realm of consciousness on nights where alcohol has made you too loose and latent desires infiltrate the privacy of sleep.

An image of you and him.

Rough, calloused hands running over flustered skin. Tugging shirts off, stripping pants down, pulling panties to the side to take a peek. The heat of his breath fanning over the side of your neck, the pads of his fingers swiping through the wet. Circling, playing, a tease whispered in a husky tone just before he—

Your breath shudders.

“Welcome back.” Jack says lowly, turning on his heel and trekking down the hall.

a/n: of course it would be a a traumatized forty-nine year old man that would break my eight month hiatus. my first dip into this man, and i want more

let me know your thoughts!

#jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #the pitt x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot x you #dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbot #jack abbot x female reader #the pitt fanfic #idk man he just means so much to me #also we are widower!jack stans in this house #nothing but respect for his grief and trauma #and you bet reader has respect for it to #also srry about the ohio slander

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frombookstoretobookstore · 29 days ago

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You Say That Like You Care

Abbot x Injured!Reader Summary: After reader takes a punch to the face, Abbot's emotions flare as he realizes he might care a little too much.

TW: Blood, injuries, angsty Abbot, Abbot admitting his feelings.

A/N: I don't love this piece but I needed to get an angsty Abbot piece out of my head. This might be purely self indulgent. Masterlist

Y/n groans as she digs the ice pack deeper into her eye socket to ground herself. Her shift was already in tatters, and she didn’t need to look at the clock to know her official shift hadn’t even begun.

She’d been called in early to help in the ER, a resident had gone home sick. She’d swung in early, happy to help where she could. Now she wished Dana had called someone else. She felt guilt rise in her chest, if she hadn’t come in, it could have been one of the med students who’d drawn the short straw.

She’d stepped in to help with a combative patient, nothing unusual. Hell, she worked with women in labor who usually threatened her the pain was so bad, she was used to never taking anything personally.

The patient had presented with a partially degloved leg but the meth in his system had sent him ballistic. Y/n had caught a punch to the face. She’d been dragged out by McKay as she’d tried to continue helping despite the blood draining down her face.

So, Y/n finds herself sitting behind the nurses’ station, Princess swearing as she presses gauze to her nose while Y/n ices her swollen eye. Still another hour left to wait before her L&D shift is set to begin.

“Christ sweetie, the hell happened?” Dana asks, quickly donning a pair of gloves, removing the icepack from Y/n’s face as Princess continues cursing under her breath.

Y/n groans and bats her friend’s hands away. “Just dealing with it all tonight. Apparently. I’m fine.” She grounds out as Dana pulls her glasses on to study her bloodied face.

“Did you go to CT?” Dana asks, quickly grabbing some tissues to wipe away the blood encrusting Y/n’s face and neck.

“I’m not wasting CT’s time, I’m fine.” Y/n said, tears springing to her eyes as Dana prods her nose.

“Please tell me you fell. Or lost a fight with a newborn.” Robby says, Dana moving so he could assess their friend.

“She took a hit from curtain three.” Princess says, Y/n hissing when Robby started putting pressure on around her eye.

“Princess, call down to CT and get her in line. Let L&D know they’re down a doctor.” Robby starts testing her pupil reactivity.

“No, I’m not going home. I’ll be fine. I came here to collect myself, not to distract the best workers of the ED.” Y/n says, waving Princess off the phone. She rolls her eyes as she lets Y/n usher her back to work. Robby only sighs as he crosses his arms and takes in her appearance.

“You probably have a concussion if not a fracture. Let’s get some morphine so I can pop this nose back into place. Also, I doubt your patient satisfaction scores will go up with the way you look right now kid.” Robby says, chuckling softly as Y/n tries to scoff through the wads of gauze shoved up her nose.

Y/n bats his hands away again. She stands and Robby tries to push her down onto a stool again. The four newest med students’ eyes grow big as they took in the L&D doctors banged up in front of them as they wait to check in with Robby before leaving.

Y/n groans as she notices the newest pairs of eyes on her. “Alright gremlins time for a teaching moment gather around.” Robby only rolls his eyes.

“If you’re going to be stubborn, at least let Dana come back with morphine. For my sake.” Robby says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he already knows what Y/n is going to do.

“Quickly, how do we do a nasal fraction reduction?” Y/n asks doctors King and Javadi’s hands fly up first. Santos huffs with her arms crossed and opens her mouth to speak.

“Santos you’re out of the running. Raise your hand and maybe I’ll call on you next time.” Dr. Santos’s mouth hands open slightly, clearly not used to the sharp attitude of the usually sunshiny L&D doctor they’ve all gotten used to.

“A doctor manually realigns the displaced bone and cartilage; my guess is we’re looking at a type III nasal trauma. Biggest take away is never do a realignment on your…” Abbot’s gruff words and disapproving scowl are cut off as a sharp crack is heard as Y/n manually realigns her own nasal cavity.

The med student’s faces drop and a few pale even as they watch Y/n reset her own nose, the sound sickening. Y/n bends forward, the pain blinding for a few moments. She rights herself and presses gauze to her nose as it starts leaking blood again.

“That was both the grossest and most impressive thing I’ve ever seen.” Dr. Javadi whispers, her mouth still open.

“As I was going to say before Dr. Y/l/n did one of the stupidest things, is never reset your own nose.” Abbot’s tone is gruff and sharp, and judging by the med students’ faces, he’s using that icy stare that makes everyone uncomfortable.

“Check on your patients. Go.” Y/n only catches Robby’s smirk from across the nurse’s station as the med students scatter. Abbot has her by the elbow and is dragging her into a trauma room, snapping the curtain shut.

He’s slamming drawers closed as he starts grabbing materials to pack her nose. The room is icy, and Y/n can hear her heart pummeling in her ears, feels it in her nose.

Usually, she’d steer clear of pissing Abbot off, knowing his temper is short and how cold he can get. But today? She doesn’t care, she’s exhausted and angry.

“Quit hulking out. I’m fine.” She says, hissing as her breath burns her nose.

He doesn’t answer. His shoulders are tight, his jaw set, and his hands are tense as he drops everything onto a small metal table, yanking it closer as he looks at her nose and bruising around her eye. He adjusts a light to get a better look at the bruising.

“What happened?” He growls, tilting her head back as he checks the alignment on her nose.

“Got slugged.” She shrugs.

“Last I checked you worked with babies.”

“Not all of them are happy to leave the womb.”

“Stop I might actually laugh at one of your deflections.” He deadpans as his fingers skim her skin, checking for more fractures.

“Unless you have some superpowered hands there hulk, you aren’t going to be able to feel any fractures.” She speaks.

“I know.” His eyes are still icy, his brow furrowed as he keeps giving her a once over.

“Still injured. That isn’t going to change the more you stare at me.” She huffs out.

He tips an eyebrow up before throwing away the discarded, bloodied gauze, snapping his gloves off and heaving them into the trash. He leans against the counter behind him, his arms crossed against his chest as he stares at her again. He sighs deeply and lets his head drop.

“Jack Rabbit, talk to me.” She says as she shifts on the bed. “Your silent treatment is even creepier through one eye.” He smirks as he glances up at her trying to open her partially swollen eyelid.

“What are we going to do with you tonight? Any being you deliver is crawling right back in as soon as it sees that face.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He breathes out and runs a hand through his curls and he lets it rest on the back of the neck. His gaze finally meets hers.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I might disappear.”

He groans as his head falls back. “Every time something like this happens. I worry it’ll be the thing that drives you away from here.” His confession tumbles past his lips.

“You say that like you care.” Her heart swells as he looks at her, his stare full of emotion instead of ice.

“Maybe I do.” He mutters, his arms bracing on either side of him on the counter, his gaze back on his feet.

Y/n swears she can hear the heart monitor from three doors down as Abbot sits with the emotions he just showed her. She’s also sure her mouth is hanging open a bit.

“I.. I’m sorry?” She says, tilting her head towards him as if to hear him better.

“Because maybe I do care. Maybe I care if you get hurt. Maybe I care that I wasn’t called in early. Maybe I care, because I don’t want to see you hurt, ever.” He’s crossed the room in a few strides before she even realizes, close to her again.

“It was just a punch Abbot.” Her brows are furrowing as she grabs his hand as she notes that they’re shaking slightly.

“What if it wasn’t? What if it had been worse and I wasn’t there?” His eyes aren’t on her anymore, their distant.

“Abbot, it was one punch, and I wasn’t alone. Princess nearly bit his arm off, and security was in the room right after.” She laughs slightly, swinging their clasped hands between them.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Abbot’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “It’s not about the punch or the guy who threw it. It’s about you. I care about you, Y/n. I care more than I should. Seeing you hurt, even a little, makes me feel like I’m failing you.”

Y/n’s expression softens, her grip on his hand tightening. “You’re not failing me, Abbot. You never have. I don’t need you to protect me from the world.”

He looks down at their joined hands, “That’s what I want too. More than anything. But it’s hard to turn off the part of me that wants to shield you from everything.”

She smiles gently, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Then don’t turn it off. Just... let me in.”

He nods, letting their clasped hands dangle between them. He steps forward, dropping her hand, before carefully tucking her into his chest. She breathes him in, smelling laundry soap and something that reminds her of leather.

They pull apart and he looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t trust you to deliver anyone’s child.” She swats at his chest as a laugh rumbles his chest, his eyes clearer.

“Shut up and buy me dinner Army Boy, I’ve got a lot to talk to you about. You aren’t the only one caring more than you should.” His heart flutters in his chest as she stands. Before he can pull the curtain back, she’s pulling him in by his scrub top and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She pulls back with a smile.

She pulls open the curtain to Dana and Robby swapping cash, their eyes wide as they’re caught by the two.

“If either of you breathes a word of this to anyone.” Y/n hisses with her hand up to stop them from running. “I’ll make sure you leave your shifts with similar bandages.” She points to her own face as she walks off, Abbot only smirking as he watches her go.

-------- This one took me FOREVER to write and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've been watching Animal Kingdom and I needed to write angsty Abbot after. Hope y'all enjoyed it!

#dr abbot x reader #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot imagine #shawn hatosy #jack abbot x female reader #the pitt 2025 #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt hbo #jack abbot x you #dr jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot #jack abbott x reader #dr abbot

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asxgard · 1 month ago

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Semper Fi | [1/8]

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

| Next

Summary: You’re the ray of sunshine to Jack’s rain cloud. What do they say about opposites attracting?

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: dipping my toes into writing for jack. i kinda love him and his dynamic with this reader, so that’s why there’s a question mark referencing the number of parts this will have. will likely be writing more for them.

(Semper Fi from the Latin “Semper Fidelis” meaning always faithful, which is the motto for the U.S. Marine Corps, but I also feel like it perfectly encapsulates his character)

starts roughly two years before The Pitt, making Ellis a PGY2 and Shen a PGY3 (also Langdon & Collins a PGY2, Mohan a PGY1/intern, and McKay & Mel would still be in med school, MS4). I also refer to the year by R#, meaning Resident Year#.

Word Count: 1.6k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: age gap (it feeds me/reader is late 20s, Jack is late 40s), foul language, people being bad at dealing with their feelings (…Jack), trauma, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, sunshine/grumpy dynamic, angst, mild gore relating to patients, death mentions, mild suicide ideation/jokes

not beta read

You rolled in from out of town like a spring day, warm and sweet. Jack Abbot really had no idea what to think of you at the start, assessing you silently — it had to be youthful optimism. It had to be. You were likely closer to half his age and only had a few years as an attending under your belt, with a persona that oozed family medicine or pediatrics.

How the hell did you end up in emergency medicine? He knew that whatever hospital you had come from, the Pitt would beat the cheery right out of you.

Just one shift and all your sweet smiles and doe eyes would sour.

It rattled him that you did not. Not even after your first week. Not even when your gloves and gown were soaked in the blood of a car crash victim, or when the trauma room was loud with a little girl screaming, or when you told the parents of a ten year-old-boy that he was dying. You walked out of Trauma-1 with a long sigh and then continued on about your day — like exiting back into the main area had reset something inside you.

Give it a few years, he thought bitterly.

Hearing your laugh echo through the halls of the ED sent alarm bells ringing throughout his system — how the hell were you laughing? What were you even laughing at?

Aside from the handful of conversations you had had together regarding patient care, you had not said much to him. Perhaps one of the nurses had advised you to steer clear of him, worried his no-nonsense, rigid exterior would rub off on you. It was clear as day to see most of the staff enjoyed having you on nights with them.

You moved with purpose throughout the ED, checking on several of your patients before moving to the charge desk to do charting, or scribble notes. He had to hand it to you, you were efficient, despite your soft edges.

The charge nurse on nights, Bridget, was talking to you quietly when he walked by, glancing up at the board. The lull was rare, like the quiet before the storm, and he found it interesting that you took time to enjoy it. He was brutal efficiency, checking crash carts and restocking, never letting himself grow idle.

He looked back at you, “Gonna chit-chat all day?”

Your eyes found his and you only blinked, unfazed by his tone. “Everything alright, Dr. Abbot?”

He frowned before gesturing to the board, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.” Said Bridget, with a simple shrug.

You only smiled at him before turning your attention back to Bridget. You picked up a tablet, focused more on that than on Bridget, but you nodded along as she told you about her son’s most recent football game, still clearly engaged.

He minded his tone when he directed you to the ambulance bay to help with a GSW victim being wheeled in. You assessed the man quickly, moving alongside the gurney into Trauma 1. You made quick work of it, paging surgery and ordering a handful of tests, before putting your hands to work.

Jack nearly sighed in relief, knowing he would not have to hand hold — the last thing he needed was an attending who he needed to keep an eye on. He knew he would do it anyway — perhaps it was the military in him, constantly taking in input of his surroundings, never allowing himself to miss anything.

How you guided Dr. Shen with an echocardiogram to show pericardial effusion and allowed him to drain the fluid. Or how you handed tough cases to Dr. Ellis to help her learn while you stood ever vigilant by her side. Or when you sat with the intern, Sullivan, through losing his first patient. He didn’t hear the advice you offered, but he noticed that Sullivan got back to work shortly thereafter, looking less miserable.

He realized that he still didn’t fully believe that you were a perfect fit for the ED, but you were a sound teacher.

—

Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, or the Pitt as you had come to learn, was a welcomed change in your life. You had completed your residency and two years as an attending at New York-Presbyterian. You hadn’t fully intended to leave New York entirely, you just needed to get out of there — there was hardly any thought as to where you would end up.

Administration had needed you mostly on nights, which had not been your preference, but you didn’t argue. You took in your new workplace quickly, engaging with your new co-workers and trying to put your best foot forward whenever you clocked in.

While the Pitt was no less chaotic than the ED in New York, there was a particular restlessness you had begun to notice as the weeks ticked on. A never ending stream of patients, short-staffing and bad coffee seemed to weigh heavily on the ED, like it could never quite catch its breath.

The chief attending on your shifts, Dr. Abbot, took some adjusting to. He was nothing like the asshole at your last ED, but he usually had an stony, unreadable look on his face. You had never seen him crack a smile, and his gaze was more intimidating than you had expected. He had a habit of staring — not inappropriately, just assessing, just watching. Constantly observing the ED, patients, the board, you. It was not unkind, per se, but his eyes frequently held a heaviness that most backed away from — but instead of intimidating you, something instead took root in your gut.

You never took his demeanor to heart — he had been in the ED a long time, and with his calculated and calm practiced ease in which he operated, you suspected military training. The way he held himself, the way he moved, the way he demanded attention as soon as he stepped into a room did little to deter that thought.

The annoying little flutter made itself known every time you met his gaze in the weeks that followed, or when his hand met yours over a patient. It was frankly elementary, a stupid work crush — he was so much older, and he was your chief attending. Hardly appropriate. You still barely knew him, so it was easy enough to shove the feeling aside and work.

After one of the longer shifts where you had stayed an extra hour due to a hard to stabilize trauma, you wandered up to the roof. You had just intended to catch some air before returning to your apartment.

Just have a moment of solace to clear your clouded mind.

You were surprised to find you were not alone, looking across the roof to see Dr. Abbot. He was beyond the safety railing, overlooking the city, and a worry invaded your insides. Like in most things, he was just quietly looking over the city with a detached look in his eyes — not quite serious, but not entirely healthy.

You supposed this was how he dealt with a particularly gruesome shift. The topic of your own mortality was never a light one, but you could see how one might find comfort in the reminder of it. You liked to look at the sky, be reminded that life continues on, the world keeps spinning.

“So, you come here often?” You asked, startling him.

He turned to look at you, his eyes hard, “Do you?”

You shrugged with a smile, “I like to watch the sunrise.”

Abbot’s narrowed eyes held on you for several moments, before he turned back to the city, “Just spent the last hour and a half coding that kid…”

“I was there,” you said, stepping closer to the bars while still giving him ample space. “We did everything we could.”

His eyes were on you again. Sharp. Intimidating. “How do you do that?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

He sighed, putting his hands back into his pockets like he was removing as much of himself as he could. “I don’t even know why I do this anymore. This job.”

“Because it matters.” You told him, looking over to the sun rising on the horizon. “Because we’re good at it. Because they need us. Because we need it.” You shrugged lightly even though he wasn’t looking at you. “The little things keep me going, mostly.”

Silence encased you. Most of your mentors had called that nativity.

“You know, a little girl tried to give me her stuffed bear today.” You said, glancing at him. “Her mother was coding and she wanted to give the bear to me, for luck.”

A simple smile came over your features. The mother and daughter in question had been hit by a drunk driver earlier in your shift — the mother had come in critical, while the daughter had come out of it with only a few minor scrapes and bruises.

“And those little moments? They’re enough.”

You breathed in all the horrors you had seen before exhaling them, giving them to the wind. Your mind would always be haunted by the things you saw, but you did always try to focus on the good, on the things you could control.

You both stood there together for several minutes. His outlook was not likely to change, not over some pretty words when he had spent his entire career pushing it down, and you weren’t looking to change it. But the quiet now resting between you? It was warm. It was something that was seen, like a shred of light trickling through the darkness.

He came back from the edge and moved under the railing. You moved off the roof together, a quiet understanding finally settling between you.

[ Next ]

Solely inspired by this post/picture that I saw last week

I have a similar idea planned for Robby as well whoops

(still figuring jack out so please forgive this && this will not be as frequent/consistent as some of my other stuff while i learn to write for him lol)

#the pitt #dr jack abbott #jack abbott #jack abbott/you #dr jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x female reader #female reader #semper fi series #semper fi multi #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #im bitter it’s abbot not abbott

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lovableapocalypse · 24 days ago

Text

weather the storm

dr. jack abbot x female!wife!reader

wc: 1.8k

summary: you take you and jack's son to the er in the middle of the night when he's sick, but your marriage happens to be on the rocks atm

warnings: reader and jack have 11 year old son, medical inaccuracies, mentions of marital differences/separation, mentions of surgery/medical procedures, established relationship, light angst but happy ending, not canonically accurate, reader has her dogs out

a/n: i don't know why i'm struggling so bad to characterize/write for abbot but i hope this does him justice. i def think he's more goofy in the show but this is a more sensitive situation so idk? i hope you like it okay!!! ugh!!!! i want to write sm more for him so maybe it will come easier to me

You were deep in sleep when you felt a familiar small hand grasp your shoulder. Your eyes shot open and you inhaled sharply as you sat up on your elbow. Your son’s face came into your weary vision. He was grasping your arm and bent over the bed, a distressed look on his face.

“Mom.” He spoke in a pained whisper.

“Benjamin?” You blink and clear your eyes, anxiety skyrocketing at the sight of Jack and your son’s form. You grab onto his arm that’s gripping your body and squeeze. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

His voice is soft and broken, “My side. My side really hurts.”

You sit up immediately and push the covers back. “Your side?”

You run your hands over his arms and move the one that’s covering his midsection, lifting his pajama top. It looks normal to the eye.

“Here?” You place a gentle hand on him.

He nods, grimacing.

You curse under your breath and stand, guiding Ben to sit on the edge of your mattress. It’s definitely his appendix and you’re praying to yourself it hasn’t ruptured.

You grab your phone off the nightstand. “You’re okay, baby.” You reassure him as you dial Jack’s number.

You know it’s a shot in the dark. Jack was working an overnight shift again and you had been separated for two months now. Your marriage was one full of love and a deep connection to each other, but lately you’d been struggling. He’d been working nights full time and barely saw you. He tried to make time for Ben, which you appreciated, but it was a different story for you.

You started spending more time at work in his absence and found yourself desperate for his attention. And when you reached a breaking point you pushed him away. You two fought like you’d never fought before and things buried deep inside came to the surface. After the two of you cooled down, you spoke with a marriage counselor and a brief separation was suggested.

So, here you were. At home in the house you used to share, the bed that you still kept to your side of. Jack had gotten a small townhouse closer to the hospital and stopped by for the occasional dinner and to pick up Ben. But, as the phone rang you internally begged him to pick up, all drama aside.

You get his voicemail. Realistically, you know the ER can get chaotic at night, but you can’t help the curse that escapes again. You toss the phone down and grab your shoes from near the closet, the ones you swore you’d pick up days ago.

You help Ben move to the car, holding his groaning form up. You hide your fear and anxiety and whisper reassurances to him.

The dashboard reads 2:38 am as you drive the fastest and safest way you can to the hospital. You park and help your son to the familiar ED’s waiting room. It’s less busy than you would have thought, the night shift seeming to usually catch the weirdest cases.

The receptionist is one you recognize thankfully, and her eyes shoot up when she sees you and Ben.

“I think it’s his appendix.” Your voice shakes.

Ben leans into you, his eyes tearing. “Mom-”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re here now.” You repeat.

The receptionist pages back and Dr. Ellis exits the locked doors with a nurse not a moment later.

“Abbot?” She uses your last name as she rushes over and assesses Ben’s state. The nurse follows with a wheelchair and she helps you sit Ben in it.

“I think it’s his appendix. Jack didn’t pick up and I have no idea if it’s ruptured-”

Ellis cuts off your rambling, “Don’t worry, we got him.”

You follow her as they put Ben in a room and start an IV. You step forward and run a hand over your son’s hair, trying to comfort him.

“Is Dad here?” He groans.

“He’s in Trauma 1.” Ellis answers, giving you a look as she pulls the ultrasound over.

“He’ll be here in a little, baby.”

Ben nods but drops his head back defeatedly.

Ellis moves closer to her boss’s son and speaks gently. “I’m going to lift your shirt and check out what’s going on, okay, kid?”

Ben nods and she puts the soft gel on the wand, moving it over his abdomen. She watches the screen and Ben holds onto your hand, wincing softly.

Ellis hums to herself, before placing the wand back and wiping your son’s side. “Good news is it’s not ruptured yet. I’m going to admit him to General Surgery and they’ll get him in pre-op.”

“He needs surgery?” You thought you’d heard of doctors being able to reverse appendicitis with medication.

She nods. “It’s pretty inflamed, I’m not sure the antibiotics would work in time to stop a rupture.”

“Okay, yeah, yeah. Thank you. Can- can you just get Jack when you have a chance?” You know he’s working and you’re not in the best place but you want him here.

“Of course.” She takes a moment to explain what’s going on to Ben before exiting. You sit on the edge of the mattress and squeeze Ben’s hand, trying to soothe him.

Jack had been in Trauma 1 when you had entered the ER. A GSW had come in through the ambulance bay and the patient was critical. He had spent the first 10 minutes coding him, then working to stabilize him enough to send him up to the OR.

When he finally exited and shoved off his gown, exhaling a deep sigh, he wasn’t in the mood to find out why Ellis was moving towards him in such a grim way.

He went to glance up at the board but Ellis’ tone caught him off guard.

“Dr. Abbot,” Her inhale was shaky, “Your son is in South 15.”

His world stopped. His years of training and education abandoned him in that singular moment. “What?” His voice was barely audible.

“Your wife brought him in, looks like appendicitis. It’s inflamed and I don’t think there’s time for antibiotic treatment. He’s getting prepped for General Surgery-” He didn’t stay to hear her finish. His movements were controlled but hurried as he moved to the curtain he would find you behind.

He shoved the curtain back and took in the scene before him. You were sitting on the small hospital bed, still in your tank top, striped pajama pants, and familiar worn flip-flops you’d had since before Ben was even born. You were whispering soft words to your son. Your son, whose face was scrunched up and who was lying back in a hospital gown, IV dripping into his arm.

You turned at the curtain’s movement and sighed deeply in relief. Ben glanced up.

“Dad.”

Jack was by his side in an instant. “You okay, buddy? What happened?”

You stood and watched Jack run his hand over Ben’s hair, pushing the curls he’d inherited from the man back.

Ben spoke softly, “My side started hurting, it woke me up. I woke Mom up and she brought me here.”

“I tried to call. I got here as quick as I could-” You continued.

“You did everything right.” Jack nodded, his voice soft and eyes firm.

He grabbed a pair of gloves from the box on the wall and pulled the ultrasound machine back over.

You knew he trusted Ellis and her professional opinion, but he also wanted to make sure his son was okay for himself.

Ben laid back as his dad examined his abdomen. You ran a hand over your bedhead and watched Jack shift into the all too familiar doctor he was. His expression unreadable, his movements precise.

He wiped the machine and his son’s stomach before speaking, “You’ll be okay, kid. One less appendix for you.” He smirked, winking at the young boy.

Ben smiled weakly at his dad and you let out the breath you’d been holding. Hearing that everything would be okay from Jack was the most reassurance you could get at that moment.

A few more nurses came in, giving Jack sympathetic glances and prepping Ben to head to the OR. When Ellis came back in and gave the all good, you pressed a long kiss to your son’s head. Jack squeezed his hand and whispered ‘I love yous’ in his ear. You watched as they wheeled him towards the elevator.

You knew he would be okay and that he was in the best hands, but your eyes watered. The night was catching up with you. A sob wracked through you and Jack watched your shoulders shake.

He stepped close behind you, his hands finding your shoulders and his mouth pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“It’s okay.” His voice was quiet and that was all you needed to let the tears fall.

Turning in his arms, you fell into his chest. His familiar hands, rough and calloused, wrapped around your crying form and his head came to rest on yours.

It was overwhelming. Ben needing surgery in the middle of the night and Jack not being there next to you to know or help. You let yourself cry for a while, before pulling back. You said nothing as you let Jack lead you to the elevator.

He kept his arm around you as you moved to the surgical floor. He sat with you in the waiting room, even finding a PTMC hoodie to wrap around your shoulders. He didn’t push you. He let you lean on him and intertwine your fingers with his.

“Do you need to go back down to the ER?” You sniffle, head on his shoulder.

“Shen can manage. I told him to page me only if there’s an emergency. I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed your hand.

You lift your head and his eyes meet yours, serious and soft.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “about everything. Tonight- the whole night, I just kept wishing you were there with me. That I didn’t have to worry about calling or you being across town if something happened.”

A tear escapes as you continue, “I don’t like this. Not knowing where we stand. It’s killing me. I miss you, Jack. All the time.”

His face contorts in emotion and he swallows before responding in that soft tone of his. “I miss you too. All the time. I’m sorry, baby. I thought- I thought this would help. That you’d feel better away from me.”

Your head shakes and a few more tears fall. “I don’t, I don’t. I want you to come home.”

His thumb catches your tears as he takes in your words. His touch is soft and casual, a motion you’d found comfort in for years.

His jaw visibly clenches and his nod is firm, but it carries the emotion you know he’s feeling. “I want that, too. I want you, Ben, all of us together.”

“Together.” You repeat and clutch his hand tighter.

He pulls you into his arms and you let him. You fall into him for the first time in months with no second guesses. No imaginary lines being crossed.

You feel his lips graze your hairline and you pull back slightly, hands cupping his face. His lips find yours easily and it feels brand new again. Your heart full and your mind at ease.

“We’ll be okay.” His words wrap around you like his arms and you know in all certainty they’re true.

#jack abbot #dr jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbot fanfic #the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #jack abbott #my fics #do not copy #not my gif

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lunarcowgirl · 1 month ago

Text

don't leave me here without you | one

yeah yeah fuck me, jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

you can read part two here and part three here

dr abbot finds your resume and thinks you are leaving the pitt - absolute disgusting and pathetic behaviour ensues, its all very endearing.

~~~

from the office of the author: DOn't even LOOK at me, I'm embarrassed. the pitt consumes my every waking thought so I'm going to make that everyone else's problem :)

this is my very first fic!!! it is a work of fiction!!!!! i do not know anything about being a doctor!!!!!! inaccuracies are none of my damn business!!!!!!!!!!

i can’t help but love the emotional constipation of jack and robby in this show, and i was feeling inspired by jack, so this is my attempt at unpacking a bit of it. reader is indeed reader, but i have formed a bit of a character in my head, so pls forgive me she does get a last name late in the piece. hope you enjoy!!!!! maybe more soon!!!!! <3

warnings: cussing, jack being pathetic, snooping based behaviours, mentions of loss of bodily function/traumatic injuries, mentions of war, mentions of covid, a spider may or not be guilty of a crime, miscommunication i fear, bad grammar from yours truely, bit o' angst

word count: 2.1k

Dr. Jack Abbot thought he was doing a very fine job not staring at you all shift long, thank you very much. It had gotten harder since you’d changed the way you’d done your hair, letting the blonde grow out. When the lights hit the top of your two fastidiously tied french braids it set the crown of your head on fire, like the sun itself sat behind you in some kind of imitation of a halo. angel indeed. You’d pierced your left ear again, yet another little golden hoop in the soft shell of cartilage at the very top. Every now and then, he would see you reach for it, as if to scratch an itch, but catch yourself before you could touch the still healing wound. The smallest, prettiest crease would form between your eyebrows, and your hand would curl into a tight fist of frustration. You were going to be the absolute death of him.

The last trauma had been difficult; damage to the neck not only making finding an airway close to impossible, but suggested a grim future for the patients ability to move as he once did. Walking was now in question. Fucking e-scooters, they were starting to offer up more victims than motorbikes. It had been an excruciating emotional dance to explain to the teenager’s recently widowed mother, that her 15 year old’s life would now be dramatically different, that she was going to have to take on a new burden. The quiet, contained grief in her eyes, not breaking contact with his, was just about all he could take for this shift.

It was easy then, to justify a little bit of gratuitous selfishness in front of the board; the easiest place to catch a glimpse of you. This shift you’d remained calm and switched on, as you always were, but something was clearly scratching at your mind. Standing dutifully behind Jack as he spoke to the mother, gently answering her questions, offering sincere condolences, introducing her to Kiara had all been done with perfect form. but when it was done, you had all but fled back to the nurses’ station, logging onto one of the computers at break neck speed.

This is where you now sat, chin resting on your linked fingers, eyes in a predatory narrow. Without meaning to, without really realising it was happening, Jack let himself drift slowly around the desk. On his journey closer to you he let his hands fall into nonchalant, non-suspicious motion. Adjusting the cord of the landline, running his finger over some forms to see if they needed his signature, flicking on a tablet to consider the chart on it. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, but some small voice in the back of his head told him he looked like a fucking idiot. Jesus Christ, he’d committed now.

To get a decent angle of your screen he would have to step back a little from the desk, making it pretty damn obvious he was snooping. If it was only a glance, just a few seconds, he should be in the clear. Mindful not to get to close (you seemed to have eyes in the back of your head when it came to him, probably since he was your attending), he took one last scan of the room to check no one was clocking every last shuffle he was taking.

Pursing his lips with arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stepped back swiftly, eyes flicking down your screen. The majority of it was taken up by a word document, your name is bold letters across the top. Underneath was a jumble of dot points, places and years and accolades and societies—a resume?

A resume…your resume. You were leaving?

His heart went somersaulting into his stomach, bouncing off his ribs on the way down.

When had you decided this? Where were you going? When were you going to tell him?

Jack felt anger and grief and confusion and jealousy all at once in his veins like some kind of poisonous cocktail. What was he, some kind of teenager? What had he ever done to deserve an explanation from you? You, who was so wonderful and so clever and so funny and so so beautiful. You who had only ever weathered his grumpiness and sour expressions and poorly timed criticism with grace and patience. You who’d never figured out how to be a pessimist, who never let the bad days win. The thought of your absence was more painful than he could have ever expected — it scared him goddamn shitless.

“Dr Abbot?”

Dr Ellis had materialised out of nothing on the other side of the desk, one eyebrow cocked. Jack nearly tripped over his own feet to get away from you and the scalding sensation of shame burning across his face, “Ya?”

“Uh, can I get your eyes on a case in South 15? We’ve got a 10 year old, lethargic, sweaty, confused. Her parents are insistent she hasn’t ingested anything.”

Your head snapped up, finally divorced from whatever hypnotic pull the resume had on you.

“Does she have control over her extremities, fingers?”

Ellis frowned, “She was moving them a lot, almost obsessively. I figured if might just be a reaction to the confusion and being in a strange place.”

You stood in one fluid motion, hands quick to grab a pair of gloves, feet quick to dance around the station to get to Ellis’ side.

“Mind if I join? I think we need to look for a spider bite. Funnel-weavers are usually—”

And with that the pair of you were gone, walking shoulder to shoulder into the fray like soldiers in arms, conversing in low, practised tones. Ready to tackle whatever the inside of that room held; the scariness of having to diagnose quickly, the stress of terrified parents breathing down your neck. It didn’t matter how bitter-of-heart Jack had become after all the years of carnage, there was still a part of him that sang at the sight of a well-oiled team. It was selfish, he considered, to believe your leaving would effect just him. Every last doctor, nurse, support worker, radiologist, technician, transport aide, frequent flyer and desk clerk would mourn your loss. Perhaps the endearing Mel King most of all. She had taken to your cheerful demeanour and calm teaching style like someone drowning does to oxygen. In the time Langdon had been a voluntary inpatient, you had been a much needed rock in the stormy wake of that revelation. Another loss could send her off kilter again, and the ER needed her…badly.

So where exactly were you planning to run off to? Surely you wouldn’t go overseas again, not after what had brought you home the last time...

Morality was telling him to just walk away, to busy himself in some problem that likely was currently yearning for his help.

They hadn’t reached out had they? Could they convince you to go back?

He wished Bridget would just call for him, that Shen would bustle in with all his careful questions. But wishing would not make it so. And he had fought so long, all his life. The older he became, the easier it was to just surrender. To drift. The computer was about to fall asleep, locking it to the world. One swift movement of the mouse sealed his fate. He was a shameless snoop, a betrayer of privacy - your privacy.

It couldn’t be denied, the resume was impressive. Very, very impressive. How many graduating honours could one 30 something year old have? And the places you’d been, you’d practised - how many names could you possibly stack next to each other? Some of them he hadn’t even seen with his eyes, even after all the time in the camouflage pants that chaffed like you wouldn’t believe. You’d seen the very worst Covid had served up in Mexico City and Rio, you had been at the very front in Ukraine, in Afghanistan, traipsed all the way across North Africa and South America and just about every island in Indonesia. Pittsburgh, even with its fair share of tragedy, felt so foreign on the page next to all the adventure and danger. It would be easy to think that you had simply become bored, and wished once again to go somewhere that you could stem the flow of blood. Jack thought the blue beret would match the new blonde hair quite nicely.

“Dr Abbot?”

He froze. That voice. How long had he been staring at the carefully typed words, wishing they would reveal an answer?

There was no way, no way at all that he could gracefully and silently retreat from this one. He was elbow deep in the cookie jar, no better than a child, spited at not being told the grown up’s secret. He looked behind himself with humiliating slowness, feeling infinitely small and ashamed. The small crease between your brows had deepened into a valley he could not dig himself out of.

“Dr James.” He said, his voice sounding all together too loud and too far away, “If you are walking away from a computer in any circumstance other than a complete emergency, you must log off, there is confidential information of patients that must be protected from wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?” You let a laugh escape, entirely hollow.

And then, with more steel then he had ever heard, “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”

“Fine.” He said, straightening with an angry click from his back. Too old for all this high school shit. You made a point to lean past him, and log off with a few aggressively passive aggressive snaps of the keys.

He trailed behind your long, mechanical strides, deeply unsettled by the stiff set of your shoulders. Maybe you’d developed the ability to be negative in the time to took to stomp from the nurses’ station to the family room door, which you promptly shoulder charged open. Once it was safely closed behind both doctors, you whirled on him.

“What the hell were you doing looking at that?”

“Like I said, you need to log off—”

“Bullshit, Jack!” You looked wild, eyes impossibly wide, “There was no reason for your face to be 2 inches from the screen to log me out. Or have your eyes completely given out since the start of shift?”

If there was no way to dodge the bullet, he may as well try swallowing it, “What exactly do you plan on doing with that document? You gonna flee the country again? Run from all us sorry fucks here in the Pitt?”

You recoiled, like the venom in his words had actually struck your skin. Jack watched them sink in, the sizzle of their marks.

You shook your head once, looking down at your sneakers, the 10-year-too-old linoleum floors.

“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you.” The words were pulled straight from your chest at the end of meat hooks.

Jack opened his mouth to strike again, but your gaze shot upwards and locked onto his. The attacks died on his tongue.

“All I have done since I set foot in here was try and get close to you Jack Abbot. I have offered you my full attention, my utter respect and confidence and trust, all my effort, all my energy, everything I have.” You took an incredulous step backwards, unsteadied by your own words and the weight of them now sitting between you, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, I would ride right on back into all the shit and misery all over again if that is what you asked of me.”

Something that looked frighteningly like a tear slipped down your cheek and off your chin.

“And what do you offer in return? You push and push and push me away.” The words wobbled now, exhausted from the revelation.

“What right do you have,” You gasped, “to now act betrayed about this? To declare you’ve always cared? Like its me that’s hurting you?!”

Killshot.

Jack’s mouth pressed into a hard line, a terrible burning spreading through the back of his eyes, a horrible pressure on his chest. All that time he had been pretending not to look at you, you had been staring straight through him into his very soul. Seeing every ugly inch of his insides. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness at your feet.

Bridget rapped sharply on the door of the window, her face grave, “Car pileup on the highway, multiple traumas, 4 minutes out.”

By the time he turned back to you, your face had been schooled back into cool neutrality, a deep breath filling your lungs. Before Jack could reach out and touch you, you were gone, like you were never even there.

~~~~~

um, so yeah I guess? more soon! x

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#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbott #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfiction #jack abbot angst #the pitt angst #dr abbott #dr abbott x you #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #persiewrites

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eden031 · 1 month ago

Text

Married life

Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader

voilence against healthcare workers (not graphic), fluff, mild angst, Jack Abbot needs a hug

Summary: When Jack‘s wife is it hit by a patient a worried Jack only comes close behind.

Words: 1.1k

A/N: Heyy, so I just finished watching the Pitt and I am in love with Jack Abbot, I already have a few other ideas in my drafts, hope you enjoy this little piece of writing I came up with. I hope you enjoy and disclaimer he might be a bit ooc so please forgive me.

A sigh escaped her lips as she looked at Dana, the ice pack pressed against her cheek.

„Robby wants you to get an x-ray, he thinks you might have broken something.“ Dana said as the bustle of the ED continued around them. A loud sigh escaped her as she looked at the charge nurse.

„Can I even get out of that or has he already put me in line for one?“ she asked, a low hiss escaping her as she pulled away the ice pack, gently touching the forming bruise on her face, the skin was hot and she knew that the possibility of her having a broken bone was not zero, she was a doctor as well after all.

„He already put you in line for one,“ she paused, „You can be glad Whitaker caught you, otherwise he would have made you get a CT as well.“ Dana smirked slightly as she grumbled.

A patient had hit her, full force in the face. He had not even been agitated before, he had nodded and listened, been very friendly and attentive of what she told him, but after she had told him that he would have to stay in hospital for observation he had lashed out.

„Do you want me to call Jack?“ Dana asked, she froze at the question, Santos and Whitaker had stopped talking at the mention of her husband‘s name. Only a few people knew she was married to Jack Abbot, there were multiple reasons for that, however one of the biggest was that it was funny to leave people guessing. She knew there was a betting pool regarding her relationship status and it looked like that pool would soon be empty.

„Don‘t you fucking dare, Dana.“ she hissed under her breath, she knew that Jack would already lose his shit when he saw her later when she came back home from her shift. “It‘s his day off, he shouldn‘t have to worry about me getting punched by some bastard.“ she pushed her ice pack back on her cheek, feeling the sting of the cold stronger than before.

Suddenly the staff door swung open, hitting the wall loudly, a loud groan escaped her as she saw her husband standing in the doorway. He looked around and stalked towards the nurses‘ station, he was in civilian clothes, cargo pants and a black t-shirt that looked like it was definitely the one that said army vet on the back of it.

“What are you doing here?“ she asked before Dana was able to say anything. From the corner of her eye she could see that Santos and Whitaker had moved in closer, probably to get a listen in on the conversation.

„Robby called me, told me that a patient hit you.“ Jack was now standing beside her, his hand was twitching, she knew that it was stressing him out, throwing caution to the wind she gently took his hand with her free one.

„It‘s okay, I am doing fine.“ she sighed as she squeezed his hand, smiling up at him from where she was sitting.

„Did you hit your head when you fell?“ he asked, an annoyed sigh escaped her as the question came from him.

„Jack, I am fine! I didn‘t hit the ground, Whitaker caught me.“ she explained as she looked over at where Santos and Whitaker were standing. Jack followed her gaze and saw Whitaker looking at them, he gave him a double thumbs up, then turned back to her.

„We are going home after your x-ray.“

—————————-

Jack had been true to his word; they had actually gone home after her x-ray, nothing broken, surprisingly enough. Now she sat on the sofa, another ice pack on her face, half laying on Jack‘s stomach, half leaning against the couch. She could hear the police scanner crackling in the background of their living room.

„Mind if I order take out?“ Jack muttered as he continued to rub his stump. She let out a laugh, wincing as her cheek hurt a lot more again.

„Since when do I mind take out, Jack?“ she nuzzled her face into his stomach, the soft fabric of the shift warm against her face. A small smile on her lips as she thought that their entire relationship had started with take out and sitting in his apartment after a rough shift, even when she had been a resident.

„Don‘t know, Indian or Chinese, or do you want to try that new Thai place two blocks away?“ he asked, pulling out his phone from his pocket. A groan escaped her lips.

„Jack, I don‘t care, just get us something to eat.“ she sighed, not snapping at him, but the decision fatigue was hitting her hard at that moment. Usually she still had some energy left to decide these things, but right now she couldn‘t.

„Alright, Indian it is,“ he muttered, „The usual?“ it was more to confirm than to really ask her about it.

„Please,“ she muttered as she sat up slightly. They would get it delivered today, usually they walked to get it, but today was not the day.

Finally the food arrived, sitting on the floor of the living room at the coffee table they ate, chatting quietly.

„You know I love you, right?“ she asked, glancing at Jack who looked like he just wanted to go to bed.

„Yeah, I know,“ he nodded, looking up at her she could see his face, her heart clenched at the sight, he was gutted. „You know how scared I was when Robby told me you were attacked by a patient?“

„Yeah, sorry. I didn‘t want them to bother you with that,“ she looked back at the samosas sitting in front of her. Guilt settled in her stomach as she looked at him, she knew it freaked him out, and he also knew that it was not the last time she would be attacked by a patient, it would happen again in the future.

„No,“ he shook his head, „I was glad when Robby told me it wasn‘t serious and I was even happier that he called me,“ he gently took her hand over the table. Squeezing it carefully, squeezing it back she smiled at her husband.

„I love you too,“ he whispered, his eyes shimmering in the dim light of the living room, as she looked at him she knew that it was more than that. She knew that look, it had been the one he had given her during their wedding night, when he had held her tightly, trying to make them melt together. It was devotion and admiration, the deep longing he had to be close to her always reflecting in his eyes in moments like this.

#the pitt #dr jack abbott #dr jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x female reader

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allllium · 11 days ago

Text

Just a Bit of Fun

[ Jack Abbot x Reader ]

~ Fluff, WC: 3749

~ Mostly gender neutral but there is a section using female pronouns, pls let me know if you want another version with other pronouns

-------------- banner coming soon -------------

- Reader is keeping a big secret from Dana, accidentally.

Fortunately, the ER today has been pretty slow. Not that you'll say out loud but only a couple people are left out in chairs. You're struggling to get a snack out of the vending machine. Everyone knows this one is a money thief but it's the only one with your favorite snack.

While you're distracted, Dana uses it as an opportunity to talk to Robby about her newest issue within the ER. It's not a real issue at all, but no one dares to say it to her face.

"Call me old school, but I don't understand it." She says, just directly out of your earshot.

"Well-" He begins, but obviously Dana cuts him off quick.

"Don't you call me anything with the word old in it."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Robby chuckles. "I don't get it either but it's not any of our business." He knows exactly what she's talking about. It's the only thing he's heard from her in a couple days now.

"Of course it is. This is my ER, all of its my business." He doesn't contridict that it's her ER, but he can't stop his grin at her dramatics.

"Stop being a gossip." He lectures her as usual. Of course it's not her fault, she gets bored.

"Hey, you want to know too. Don't even deny it."

"Obviously I want to know but I'm not gonna sneak around behind their backs." That and he knows more than he'll let Dana see. She'll have his head on a silver platter if she finds out you told him before her.

"What are we gossiping about?" You whisper from behind them. Not meaning to sneak up on them but they were standing right in your path.

"You're just as bad as Dana." Robby rolls his eyes at you. He does that a lot.

"Don't be talking shit out in the open if you don't want me to be curious." You tell him in a lecturing tone. "That's on you, Buddy."

"We were not talking shit." He hates when you call him buddy, that's why you do it. Robby isn't usually one to talk shit but on a few occasions you've caught it happening.

"Uh huh, quick defense there." You smile at his dramatic huff. Once you get to him, he's not nearly as intimidating. Now you can poke fun at him all you want.

He doesn't grace with you a verbal response before giving up and walking away.

"He's no fun." Dana mutters under her breath. You look over in her direction, forgetting she was there for a moment. You should know better, she's always there.

"That's okay, we're fun enough for him too." You walk around the counter to sit down and take a breath for a moment, while you can.

"What are you doing here, kid? I barely ever see you in the daylight." She takes a seat in the chair next to you.

"Filling in for Collins. Robby asked me to while she's on vacation. Night shift will do without me for a bit." You fidget by moving back and forth in the chair. You and Collins have bonded a lot through the years. The nature of her vacation isn't a happy one.

"I don't know." She immediately disagrees. "Abbot might fall apart without you by his side."

You can see the mischievous smile forming.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You turn quickly to face her head on.

"You know what I mean, I never see one of you without the other."

"He's not here right now is he? Besides we work different days a lot."

"Not if it's up to the two of you." She shrugs with a laugh.

"We work well together." You deflect in disbelief. What is she getting at right now?

"I bet you'd be good at a lot of other things together too." She keeps her head down as she says it, you know she's struggling to get the words out through her laugh.

"Dana it is way too early in the morning for you to be saying stuff like that." You tell her in astonishment. "Have you no shame?"

It takes her a full moment to stop laughing at her own words. You get the urge to walk away but you know she'd chase you down.

"I'm just saying, you two would be good together."

"Dana. You can't be encouraging me to have sex with my boss."

"Why not? It's never hurt nobody."

"I am walking away from this conversation right now."

"C'mon, hon, just live a little." She calls after you.

You shake your head harshly as you walk away and her laugh echos through the hall.

You know neither you nor Jack have actually told anyone other than Robby that your together, but you didn't think she would still be this oblivious.

You can't explain why you played along instead of coming out with the truth. At this point, you might as well have fun with it.

The next day, Dana seems to be just as determined to get answers as the last. Your reactions to her teasing certainly didn't help.

"I don't see what the big deal is." You and Dana are sitting in the lounge, trying to eat lunch while there's not too much work to be done. Knock on wood this next couple days will follow a similar pattern. "We work together so what? You and Robby work together all the time and I'm not pushing you two into each other." She immediately gives you a look of disgust.

"Don't even try that, it's different and you know that. Robby and I don't look at each other the way you guys do."

"We don't look at each other like anything other than good coworkers." You tell her confidently, perhaps taking the joke too far. Honestly if she hasn't figured it out by now, that's on her.

"You are so full of shit."

"I think the older you get, the crazier you get too."

"Did you seriously just call me old and crazy in the same sentence?"

"Hey I just call it like I see it." You raise your hands in a joking defense.

"Abbot's a good looking guy, I know you see that." She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"Well I'm not gonna deny that."

"So why not take the chance? It doesn't have to be anything serious."

"I like things how they are." You shrug and pay more attention to your food than necessary.

Whatever she's about to say next is cut off by McKay running in.

You're not paying attention to anything they're saying but Dana rushes out quickly and leaves McKay standing in the doorway. Robby probably needed her help with something.

"Are you fucking with her?" Mckay laughs as she looks at you curiously.

"So I'm guessing you know?"

"You guys are very obvious. Has she not gotten it yet?" You get up to throw away your lunch trash while she talks.

"Apparently not. I guess she figured I was single and Robby didn't tell her otherwise." You shrug and walk with McKay through the hall.

"Strange considering he's such a gossip."

"That's what I'm saying!"

"Oh that's a really pretty ring." You're standing by your locker when Dana appears. It's day three of her pushing for answers and one of those rare times where you get off on time.

"Huh." You look down and see the ring Dana is referring to. It's on a chain around your neck that must've come out while leaning over so much throughout the day. "Oh thanks, I didn't realize it was out." You quickly tuck it back into your shirt, before Dana asks too many questions.

"What kind of stone is that? It doesn't look like diamond." Of course she's gonna ask a lot of questions.

"Oh it's not, I can never remember the exact name of this one but I'm not a huge fan of diamonds." You explain while grabbing your other clothes out so you can get home as quick as possible.

"Why do you wear it on a necklace?" She asks in a knowing manner.

"Cause' knowing this place it would get lost or ruined otherwise. I'd do it with my other ones too but I wear a million of them." No lie in that statement.

"So why wear it instead of keeping it with the rest?"

"It's my favorite. I just like having it so close to me." Also not a lie.

"That makes sense, it is really pretty." She turns to pull stuff out of her own locker.

"Thanks. Uh, you have any plans after this?" You try to change the topic as casual as possible.

"Lots of sleep hopefully."

"I think that's all we can hope for at this point." You also want to go home and sleep. Especially because the house will be empty all night.

"Sleep well kid."

"See you bright and early." As soon as you're changed, you walk out and leave Dana to herself.

You give a quick goodbye to Robby, who of course hasn't even gotten close to finishing up yet. And then make your way outside when you're greeted with a familiar face.

"How was it today?" He asks from his position leaning against the wall.

"Not to bad. I think you should have okay night." You smile at him which shows off just how tired you are.

"I hope so."

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning." You say with a saddened tone.

"Goodnight Dr. Abbot." He pulls you in for a swift hug.

"Goodnight- or goodmorning, Dr. Abbot. Whatever it is to you right now."

"Go home and sleep, you need it."

"Sounds good to me." You pull away from him and both go your separate ways.

"I can't believe it." Dana exclaims just moments after you left. She immediately found Robby to talk to about what she just saw.

"What are you on about now?" He sighs as he always does when putting up with the gossips in the ER, especially Dana's.

"She was wearing an engagement ring, oh how did we miss this?" She seems personally offended by this piece of information.

Robby tries as hard as he can to hide his grin. He didn't miss anything, but again, Dana would have his head if she knew.

"That's why she's been so put off by the idea of going out with Abbot."

"Maybe she's just not interested in him. She wears a lot of rings that could pass as engagement rings. You probably just saw it wrong." He tries to offer a reasonable solution. One that doesn't make her even more invested in your romance life.

"No, it was different than the other ones. And she was wearing all day under her shirt. People don't do that with any old ring." She follows behind him as he walks around trying to finish off his work for the night.

"Why didn't you just ask her about it? She has no reason to lie." He comes to your defense.

"I did! Discreetly but the point still stood. She just said it was her favorite." She comes off even more exasperated than before.

"And you don't believe her because?"

"She is not good at coming up with excuses, I can always tell when she's trying to come up with something on the spot."

"Dana, please take this advice I'm about to give you seriously. Calm down a little bit. If she's hiding something it's for a good reason."

"What reason would be good enough to not tell me?"

"Ask her." He practically begs.

She gasps suddenly, "Maybe Abbot knows."

For the ten millionth time that day, Robby rolls his eyes.

"She knows." You resign as he walks in the door.

"Who knows what?" You hear him move around the living room as he puts everything down from the night.

"Dana. I don't know what she knows but it's something."

"Okay? And this is an issue because?" He walks into the kitchen to greet you as he talks.

"You're the one that insisted on hiding this." You lean into him as he puts his arms around your waist.

"At first. If you want to tell Dana go ahead."

"I can't! It would be weird now. It's been years at this point." He chuckles from behind you.

"I don't think it's a big deal."

"So says you. You work the night shift, you don't deal with Dana's craziness like I do."

"You'll be back on night shift soon enough."

"Oh honey, it's funny you think that'll stop her."

He let's go of you to grab something to eat.

"I know it won't. But I'm not the one dealing with it."

"Be nice to me, Jack. I'm struggling here." You're being totally dramatic about it but oh well at this point.

"How dare she care about your life outside of work." He says blankly as he focuses on finding food.

"You're not gonna find anything in there, we need to go shopping."

He shuts the cupboard and focuses more on you. "I think I'll bring you lunch later."

"Honey, you need to sleep longer than a couple hours."

He rolls his eyes, "No I don't."

You head to the living room to grab the rest of your stuff for your shift.

"You don't need to bring me lunch, I'll get something." He follows you into the room and sits down on the couch.

"It might help with your Dana issue."

"Shes gonna hurt me, isn't she? She's a lot stronger than she looks "

"Most likely."

"Good to see how concerned you are."

"I try my best." You laugh at his words and finish grabbing your stuff before pausing for a moment.

"Wait a minute, why are you here so early. You're shift isn't over yet?"

He glances up at you for a second before looking back at the TV.

"Did you clock out early so you wouldn't overlap with Dana coming in?"

"Of course not."

You burst out laughing. He gives you an unimpressed stare.

"Okay sweetie, whatever you say." It's hard to believe this is the most intimidating guy in the ER. "If she wants to get you, she will."

You let out an embarrassing yelp as Dana quickly grabs your arm and pulls you into the empty on call room.

"Was that really necessary?" You exclaim while she shuts the door behind you both.

"Yes, I want the truth." She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at you pointedly.

"Don't we all." You sigh dramatically.

"Seriously, kid. Who gave you that ring? I know it's an engagement ring. I looked it up." You roll your eyes at her. Of course she's still on this.

"I didn't know you knew how to do that." You mumble under your breath and throw your arms across your chest.

"Don't sass me or I'll tell everyone."

"Tell them what? You don't know anything." She squints her eyes as she thinks of what to say next.

"I'm going figure it out. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Dana, I'm not scared of you."

"Yes you are."

"I spend every night working with Abbot. You are not on his level of intimidation." You shake your head with a smile at her reaction to this whole situation.

You're not entirely sure why this is something she's so determined to figure out but it fills your day with a tiny bit of entertainment.

"Just tell me." She demands, staring into your soul.

"Okay fine, I'm married alright. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Her face shows a mixture of confusion and happiness. Clearly she's glad to finally have a good answer.

"To who??"

"I have already given you more than enough." You brush her off and begin to leave the room she pulled you into.

"You're seriously not gonna tell me?

"I am seriously not gonna tell you."

"Wait, how long have you been hiding this?" She opens her mouth in shock.

"I haven't been hiding anything, you never asked. But it's been about three years now."

"You've only been here for two years. No wonder you've been so weird about Jack." She mutters to herself like she's finally putting the pieces together.

"Next time you won't assume I'm single will you?"

"No I will not." She laughs.

You walk off assuming that's the end of this particular conversation. You're not that lucky.

"So how does your husband feel about your relationship with Abbot?" She sounds very concerned. How the fuck is she not getting it right now?

"Well honestly he's not super fond of him." Why do you continue to make things harder for yourself. This would all be over if you didn't listen to Jack in the first place.

You know he was right to suggest it at first. Coming to work in a new place is hard enough without people knowing you're married to your new boss.

You really thought people would figure it out by now. But of course people never wanted to accuse either of you of anything, so they keep conversations quiet and didn't ask any questions loud enough for you to hear.

"I wonder why?" She asks sarcastically. She clearly sees something between you and Jack. What will it take for her to see what that something is?

"You are officially on my shit list!" Dana yells from down the hall.

"Oh yay." You whisper sarcastically. "What'd I do now?" You call back down to her.

"Someone is here to see you." She smiles scarily and pulls you by the arm for the second time today.

"Oh is my food here?" You're excited to finally eat and see Jack during the day. Although he's gonna get a very big earful about the importance of enough sleep, especially with a job as grueling as this.

"Yeah and you'll never believe who brought it to you." Sarcasm drips from her voice.

"The magic food fairy?" She's not impressed. You think it sums him up pretty well.

"Abbot. Dr. Jack Abbot. The man who worked all night and should be sleeping all day is instead here bringing you food. Why is that?"

"Do you need to sit for a minute? You seem a little worked up."

"I do not need to sit, I need to hear the explanation you two have been hiding from me." You accidentally let out a small chuckle at her antics. You don't know why this means so much to her.

"Why do you need an explanation for me to get my lunch?"

"First you hide your marriage-" You interrupt her quickly.

"I didn't hide anything."

"Then you admit your husband isn't real fond of Jack."

"Oh honey, you're getting so close." Will this be the moment she finally puts all the pieces together?

You look up to see Jack standing at the nurses station, smiling softly at you as you walk up. It's not big enough for most people to notice. Dana clearly, is not most people.

She stops walking, causing you to slightly bump into her back.

She turns around slowly to face you.

"Surprise?" You reveal, hoping she's finally figured out what's going on.

While she stands in her surprise, you walk over to your husband.

"I told you not to do this." You immediately reprimand him.

"Dana's glaring daggers at the back of your head." Is his simple response.

"Oh let her. She's having some big feelings and you don't get to change the subject that easily." You grab your food out of his hands.

"We haven't seen each other as much lately. Can't I do something nice?" He asks innocently.

"Don't act like you didn't want to see Dana's reaction." You place the food on the counter next to you so you can cross your arms over your chest. It's your power stance.

"What can I say? Karma for being a gossip."

You laugh aloud. "Says you! You listen to everything the nurses talk about and ask me about it later."

"That's not the same." You scoff at his denial.

"Uh huh, whatever you have to tell yourself sweetie." You smile widely at him. Suddenly feelings just how much you've missed him over these last couple days. "Go home and sleep. It's my last day on day shift for now."

"Good. Night shift goes a lot smoother when you're there."

"Aww are you saying you missed me?" You take a step closer to him and his awkwardness.

"No." What a motherfucker.

"Oh I see how it is." You feel Dana's presence come up beside you. "Get some good sleep so we can spend time together without you being such a grump."

"I am never a grump." He defends, his lip curling up just a smudge.

"Wow you're just full of jokes tonight, I see." He gives you a kiss on your head to hide his smile in your hair.

"Have a good shift." He tells you and gives a small nod to Dana before walking out the door.

"So? Figure it out yet?"

"How in the hell did I not know this?" She exclaims softly almost like she's saying it to herself.

"You never asked. No one did." You shrug with a chuckle.

"How long have you been together? He never mentioned anything." She plops down in a chair to continue the conversation.

"He's protective. He thought it would make things harder if people knew I was married to my new boss." You sit in chair next to her. You look around and see all the other doctors currently occupied.

"So as long as you've been here?" She chuckles quietly realizing all she missed over the years.

"Married for three years, together for six. We met at a bar when he was drinking in his sorrows." You remember the memory fondly. "I was gonna tell you when I realized you didn't know, but for some reason it didn't come out."

She laughs loudly at that. Loud enough that a patient to the left gave her a weird look.

"That makes sense. I'm just glad you're not having some weird affair with Jack."

"It's not an affair but it's definitely weird."

"Ha! Eat your lunch kid. I'm gonna hound you for details later." She stands up and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

~ low-key wanna write about how they met 🤔

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leo-in-the-pitt · 9 days ago

Text

Until The End

This is Chapter 3 of the Beginning to End series !

Summary: With your 2 year anniversary coming up with Dr. Jack Abbot, you’re trying to figure out his secret plans and see if you can get over the final hurdle in your relationship before it's too late.

Warnings: Established relationship, age gap (unspecified but reader late 20s, Abbotts an old man), beginning is all fluff but the end is something else, strong language, sexual tension, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, handjob/blowjob, all the dirty stuff tbh

Word Count 8.8K+, was shooting for 10k but I'll take it

Until The End

Monday

You caught Jack talking to Robby that Monday afternoon. Both of you were busy obviously planning something for your 2 year anniversary. He was the absolute worst at keeping secrets but, apparently when it came these plans he had nothing to say.

He ordered some pizza that night for dinner and you two sat next to each other on the couch. He seemed on edge, not making much conversation. He usually never shuts up during movies. He kept checking his phone and you could see him typing but, didn’t bring it up.

“You sure you’re alright Jack?”

He had a mouthful of pizza. “Yeah why?”

“You’re acting really sketchy.”

“I’m just trying to eat my pizza.”

“Mhm, so what exactly is the plan for Friday?”

“I already told you, it’s a surprise. Stop trying to spoil it for yourself.”

“Well you know that I hate surprises. I’m a planner Jack. I need to know what we’re doing. What am I supposed to wear?”

“I already told you I picked an outfit out for you.”

“Okay but what if it doesn’t fit? Or I don’t look good in it? There is an outfit right? You’re not just trying to get me naked?”

“Well, now that you mention it, that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“You’re just full of jokes tonight aren’t you Abbott?”

Everybody called him Abbott, only you called him Jack, unless you were annoyed with him.

“Oh, now I’m Abbott?” He nodded his head in disbelief.

“Until I know what we’re doing Friday, you’re Abbott.”

“Look who has the jokes now.”

You let the topic go for the rest of the night. But if there was one thing about you, you weren’t going to let this go. He would hear about it again.

———————————————————————

Tuesday

It was always a bit of a habit to go out for food together at least once a week. You both hated cooking and doing the dishes so this ended up being one of the easiest compromises in the past 2 years.

You typically ended up at your favorite diner, which he was most definitely tired of but, it kept you happy so he kept going. It was around noon when you arrived to the diner with him. Both ordering your usual without even needing the menus.

“You want to spilt a milkshake?”

“But you never want one?”

“Yeah but, I know that you do. And I’m feeling extra nice in this moment.”

“What are you doing? Making sure I don’t leave you before we hit 2 years?”

“Yeah I’m just buttering you up since there’s actually no plans for Friday.”

“You’re really pushing it Abbott, you know that?”

“You know you love it.” He said with his crooked smirk that drove you wild even after all this time.

You said nothing just shook your head at him. But don’t worry, you got your milkshake.

Once you got home it was already time to start getting ready for a nap since you’d be working 2 night shifts back to back with each other before your anniversary. Maybe you could find out if he told anybody else about his secret plans.

You were dragging after your 3 hour power nap. No amount of sleep was ever going to be enough for you. But Abbott, of course, was already bouncing off the walls ready to leave.

“We’re going to be late because of you.” He yelled from the kitchen.

“Forgive me for wanting to cover up my under eye bags Abbott.”

“You gonna call me Abbott at work too?”

“Depends, are you going to tell me the plans?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll be in the car waiting for you.” And he walked out of the apartment.

Once you got to work, of course you had to go say hi to Langdon.

“What’s up kid?” He put out his hand for your handshake.

“I’m on a mission tonight.”

“Oh god that’s never a good thing.”

“First of all the last mission I went on here was to get Abbott, and I succeeded so I’m trying again tonight.”

“Wa- wait, did you just call him Abbott? What happened?” His eyes widening.

“He’s Abbott until I know what Fridays plan is.”

Yet another man rolling his eyes at you tonight. “Why are you trying to ruin the fun?”

“I hate surprises Langdon, like I despise them. It’s eating me alive slowly and painfully. Like look at him over there whispering with Robby.” You looked over and squinted while waving at the two of them.

Robby waved back laughing and Abbott just shook his head without cracking a smile. “They’re probably talking about it. Do you know anything?” You turned to him with puppy dog eyes.

“I already told you, no. You’re my best friend and Robby is his best friend, why don’t you go ask him?” He shrugged.

“You know what? You’re right. Maybe I should, I’ll be right back!” You skipped over to Robby and Abbott.

“Oh shit, I was just kidding.” He yelled but, you were already gone.

You marched yourself over across the ER to the nurses station they were standing behind. Basically skipped over, smiling like a child.

“What’s the hot gossip boys?”

“I know nothing. I have nothing to say. I’m going home to my wife. Have a good night you two.” He waved directly at you, smiling. And he was gone.

You glared over at Abbott. “What did you do tell everyone not to talk to me until Friday?”

“That’s exactly what I did. Nobody knows anything anyway but, I don’t want them putting ideas into that mind of yours.”

The rest of the night was hectic. No more chances to trick anyone into spilling details. Not even a chance to sit down. You decided to give a rest, at least for the night.

———————————————————————

Wednesday

He seemed different on the drive to work, glancing out the window, his mind racing with plans and details of the Friday plans, before forcing a calm smile as you asked him if he was okay. He was feeling guilty for not letting you in on the secret yet, but you had no idea.

“I’m telling you, I’m so ready for this week to be over.”

Each night that you worked together, when things would slow down, even just slightly, you find each other to sit down for a quiet moment to catch up on charting.

Jack taps his fingers on the desk nervously, the clock ticking by slowly. He’s been planning the surprise for weeks, and now, the moment is almost here. But his mind was all over the place. He starts typing up a note, clearly not paying attention to what keys he was hitting.

You glare over at his screen. Words underlined in red and blue. Mistakes written all over the page.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” You sat back and glared at him. His mind clearly somewhere else.

No response. For a moment, he’s lost in the thought of how his life is about to change.

“Earth to Abbott?” You waved your hand directly in front of his face.

“What happened?” His head sharply turned to you.

You pointed to his screen. “What’s going on there? Forgot how to type?”

He rubs both eyes. Took a deep sigh. “Guess I’m just really tired tonight.”

“Wow, you tired? Never.”

———————————————————————

Thursday

Tomorrow’s the big day. 2 years down, hopefully forever to go.

You were absolutely exhausted after the past 2 nights. But to flip your sleep schedule you were only planning a quick nap. Abbott on the other hand was basically ready for another shift.

“I will never understand how you require so little sleep.”

“And I don’t know how you need so much.”

He cooked you dinner, dishes are still in the sink. Sitting on the couch, a candle flickering on the coffee table, soft music playing in the background. Music from a playlist you’ve been adding to since you were a teenager in high school. It was filled with cheesy love songs, songs that you wanted at your future wedding.

“Can you believe it’s been almost two years?” You said laying your head on his chest.

“I know. Feels like it flew by yet also like I’ve known you my whole life. I still remember our first official date, how nervous we both were.” He caressed your hair out of your face.

“You kept fiddling with your napkin the entire time."

“Hey, I was trying to impress you. Clearly, it worked well enough to keep you around all this time. I was trying so hard not to mess anything up. You were just sitting there, looking as beautiful as ever. It was intimidating.”

"I was nervous too! But honestly, the moment you started talking, I felt so at peace. Like I knew I was in the right place with you. I didn’t think even for a second that we’d end up here, like this, happier than ever.”

“I think that was the moment I knew. Something about you, just made sense. Just remember thinking, 'I really hope this isn’t the only date.'"

“And here we are, two years later.”

"And I wouldn’t trade a second of it. That night changed everything. You changed my life in all the best ways. I didn’t even know what I needed that until I met you.”

“I feel safe here in your arms. I could stay here with you forever and be completely okay.” You leaned up to kiss him. “So tomorrow’s the big day. Got anything special planned Abbott? This is your last chance to tell me!” You said while looking into his big green eyes.

“Those big beautiful brown eyes of your will get your anywhere if you try hard enough. But not tonight babygirl, not tonight.”

“I don’t quit Abbott!”

“I’m just gonna keep it simple. Just us being together. Nobody else.”

———————————————————————

Friday

You slept for 12 hours straight Thursday night into Friday. You were woken by the smell of breakfast cooking.

Still half asleep you said, “Oh god he’s going to burn the apartment down.” You quickly hoped out of bed. Wearing his clothes already, you grabbed a pair of socks out of his drawer, of course, and headed towards the kitchen.

As you walked out of the bedroom, the morning light streamed through the windows of the apartment. The clinking of plates and kitchen utensils filled the room. Your eyes light up at the sight in front of you.

Pancakes, fruit, freshly brewed coffee, and the biggest bouquet of red roses you’ve ever seen. Balloons tied all around the apartment. A gift box in the middle of the kitchen island. And Abbott standing there smiling at you, ear to ear. His silver curls shined in the rising sun beaming through the shades. Still in the same clothes he went to sleep in. White t-shirt and gray boxers.

God, how are you going to get through the day with him looking like that? You thought to yourself.

“What’s all this for?”

“Haha you’re so funny.”

“I got jokes too. But really, happy anniversary to my favorite guy on the planet. I love you.”

“Happy anniversary babygirl. Love you more than you know.”

“Homemade breakfast? On our anniversary? You really are a professional at this ‘romance’ thing huh? Why do I feel like there’s more going on here than just pancakes?”

Next thing you know his hands were on your neck pulling you for a kiss. It was passionate. The type of kiss you don’t want to ever stop. But he pulled away first.

“I wasn’t done with you.” You said.

“You’ll get more later, don’t worry.”

“You’ve outdone yourself already Abbott”

“Still Abbott huh?”

“Maybe you’ll earn your name back by the end of the day.”

“Oh, I plan on it.” In a lowered tone, “I’ll be hearing it nice and loud tonight.” Again with that smirk.

“What did you just say?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Oh you heard him loud and clear. You just wanted him to say it directly to you.

“Here.” He picked the gift box up off the table and handed it to you. “Just a little something to start the day with. Don’t worry, there’ll be way more later.”

You unwrapped the box slowly. A small jewelry box. Oh shit, this better not be a ring right here, right now.

You opened it. A necklace. Golden with his initial and birthstone.

“So everybody knows that you’re mine. Needed you to have something special, something you can keep close to your heart.”

“Oh my god. Put it on my right now.”

You took the necklace out of the box, handed it to him and turned around. He brushed your hair out of the way, gently rubbing the back of your neck. Shivers went down your back. You could feel him just centimeters away from you. Nothing separating your bodies except the thin fabric.

God you were touched deprived.

You turned back around to him while holding onto the necklace. “I love it Jack.”

“Ah, I get my name back.” He smiled.

“For now at least.” You tilted your head at him.

“Wait let me go grab your gift!” You ran back into the room to get his present.

"Whispering as low as he could get, "I'll be hearing my name loud from you tonight." You could here him laughing from the kitchen.

"What did you just say?", you yelled from the bedroom. No response.

“Here!” You were so proud to hand it to him.

Two small boxes. “Which should I open first?

“This one! Not as poetic as your gift but just open it."

He opened up the box to reveal the watch.

“Holy shit!” He looked up at you. “You shouldn’t have.”

“New salary is treating me well I guess. Take it out! Look at the back!”

He took it out of the box to see the dates engraved. The day you met and the day you started dating.

“I figured no matter where you go, you’d have a little piece of us with you. Plus, I just thought it’d look amazing on you."

“Can’t wait to show this off at work.” He immediately put it on his left wrist.

“Well, just don’t get blood all over it though. Come on open the other one!”

This one with a last second buy when you were leaving the jewelry store. A chain to perfectly match the watch. You’d been telling him since you got together how good he’d look with one on but, he never got one.

“I guess great minds think alike huh?” He winked at you. “Well now you have to put it on me.” He handed it to you and turned around. As quietly as he possibly could, he muttered, “You’ll be seeing this up close later.”

“Why the hell do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” He laughed.

“Mumbling under your breath! It’s driving me crazy! What did you just say?”

“Are you going crazy? I didn’t say anything!”

Rolling your eyes at him you said, “So, now what’s the plan Abbott?”

“Really with the Abbott again? Really?”

“Stop mumbling and speak up then.”

“Well the plans don’t start until later, so I just want us to spend this time together, enjoying each other’s company, away from all other distractions.”

“Sound perfect to me!”

The day went on, spending time watching each other’s favorite movies, listening to music while dancing around the apartment. Time slipped away with him.

He stretched as he got up off the couch, “Should probably start getting ready now.”

You went to shower first. Then he went.

“So where’s this special outfit?”

“I left it hanging on the closet door. Shoes are in there too. Let me just go grab my clothes and then you can get dressed in there and I’ll get dressed out here.”

You went into the bedroom and took the dress out of the bag it was hanging in.

“Abbott!”, you ran out into the living room where he was getting changed.

He was pulling up his black dress pants, blue briefs underneath. Leaving no room for imagination and showing you everything you have been missing. Zipper, button, and belt all still undone. His undershirt was still lying over the couch. You’d seen him shirtless all the time but, right now, your mind began to wonder.

You licked and bite your lip not realizing that you were just staring at his bare chest. His hand slid into his pants to straighten out his briefs.

“Did you come here to say something or just to see me half naked?”

You were able to rip your eyes away from his body for just one second. “Both apparently. Uhm when did you find the time to go get this?” You held up the dress.

It was dress you saw a woman wearing a few weeks earlier and became obsessed with, even asking her where she got it from. White with blue flowers, thin strips, open in the back, slit down the right leg. You never found the time to go see it in person. But he did.

“I knew you wouldn’t go back for it. So I did. The day after you first saw it. Figured it’d be perfect for the occasion.

You turned around to start walking away. “Well you’re gonna be taking it off me tonight.” You whispered.

Abbott started laughing. “What’d you just say to me?”

“Nothing!” You ran into the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

Since he decided to surprise you wet the dress, you put on a surprise for him underneath.

He even laid out your white sandals with a slight heel. He was still a whole head taller than you.

“Can’t believe we’re finally going out. I’ve been looking forward to this all week."

Glancing over at you, grinning, “Wow, you look incredible, I think I’m going to have a hard time keeping my eyes off you tonight."

Laughing lightly, turning to face him, “Oh really? Well, I might need to make sure you’re paying attention to where we’re going, because you might get distracted."

He stepped closer, lightly touching your arms, “I think I’ll be okay but I might need a little reminder of how lucky I am to have you by my side." "Well, I’m lucky to have you too. Just don’t be surprised if I end up stealing all of your attention tonight.”

His eyes on you "Trust me, it won’t be hard. I don’t think I could ever take my eyes off you."

"Let’s see if you still feel that way after a whole night.”

He looked down at the time on his new watch. “Shit, we better get going to make the reservation. You might want to take a sweater or something, probably going to be a little chilly out later tonight?”

“Oh, so you’re going to take me somewhere outside then?”

“You’re killing me babygirl.”

“Let me go grab something then.”

You ran back into the bedroom, opening the closet door. Scrambling for one specific item. Putting your arm all the way in you found it.

The Beers of the Burgh zip up sweater.

Jack shoved it all the way in the back corner of the closet after your assault, making sure you wouldn’t have to see it. But you were ready to wear it again tonight.

“Okay, I’m ready!”

“What is that?”

You walked up to him and held out the sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“I feel completely safe with you Jack. I’m ready to fully move past it.”

He gave you a light kiss on the cheek, “Let’s go then babygirl.”

All the way down to the car, you pestered him to tell you where it was exactly you were going. He wouldn’t budge.

“Maybe I’m taking you somewhere completely unexpected. I guess you’ll just have to trust me."

Laughing, playfully narrowing your eyes, “I do trust you more than anything, but now I’m really curious. Should I be excited or nervous?"

He smiled mischievously, “Definitely excited. Trust me, you’re going to love it. But I promise, it’s not whatever you’re thinking."

You leaned back in the seat, raising an eyebrow "You’re making me even more curious now. Are we going somewhere fancy? A secret restaurant? Or are you about to whisk me off to a secret adventure?"

"Maybe a little bit of everything. But tonight is about enjoying the surprise and you’re going to have the time of your life.”

Excitement took over your body. "Okay, okay, I’m all in. I guess I’ll just enjoy the ride and see where it takes me."

He reached over and giving your hand a squeeze "That’s the spirit. I can’t wait to see your face when we get there."

He parked the car and you finally underwent he was excited for you to find out the surprise.

“Wait, is this the place? Oh my fucking god Jack! This is the place I’ve telling you about for months now!”

Smiling and glancing over at you, "Yeah, this is it. I knew you’d love it. Trust me, you’re going to be impressed."

“I talked about it so much but never even looked at their menu!”

"You’ll find out soon enough. All I’m saying is, they have some of the most interesting dishes. I couldn’t wait to bring you here."

Holding out his hand to you, “Come on, let’s go inside. And I promise, this is just the beginning of a perfect night."

You took his hand with a smile, "Okay, I’m officially excited. If the food is half as good as the surprise, we’re in for a treat."

You’ve were seated at an elegant table inside the restaurant, and you’re both soaking in the ambiance.

You looked around, amazed, "Wow, this place is gorgeous! I can’t believe you got a reservation here! They literally have a Michellin star Jack!”

Smiling as he watched your reaction. "I’m glad you like it. I thought it would be the perfect spot for tonight. I wanted the night to feel just as special as you are.”

Looking at him with a soft smile you said, "You really know how to make a girl feel special. I’m already having the best time, and we haven’t even started eating yet."

Softly laughing, “That’s the plan. Just wait until the food comes, trust me, it’ll make the night even better."

“If the food is as good as the surprise, I’ll be asking you to pick all our date spots from now on."

“I’m happy to take that responsibility if it means making you smile like this all the time.”

After spending 3 hours in the restaurant, you could see the sun beginning to set outside.

"That was absolutely incredible. I can’t believe you did this. It was perfect!”

“I’m glad you liked it. But, the night’s not over yet. There’s one more surprise I’ve got in store for you."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, another surprise? I’m not sure I can handle any more excitement tonight Jack!”

“You can handle it, trust me. I promise you’re going to love it.”

“God, I hate surprises but, I think you’re beginning to change my mind.”

He took your hand as you walked out the door. “Good. You deserve it. Just wait it’ll be worth it at the end”

Right before he opened the car door for you, he stopped.

“I need you to do something for me first.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to put this on.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long strip of black fabric.

“A blindfold? Really Jack?”

“I’ll be worth it. I promise you. Trust me babygirl.”

“Fine but, you have to put it on me.”

You turned around. He reached around and gently tied it. He whispered , “Maybe we can use this later.”

You turned around to face him, and bit your lip. “I don’t know how you can top any of this, but I’m ready to watch you try.”

You could feel him smiling confidently as he opened the car door and guided you inside. His hands gliding across your body sending shovers down your spine.

“You’ll see soon enough. Trust me, this one’s going to be unforgettable."

He drove for what felt like forever.

“Are we there yet? People are going to think you’re kidnapping me!”

“Perfect timing, we’re here.”

He put the car in park and turned it off.

“Can I take this off now please?”

“Not yet. Let me come around and help you. Take your sweater, it got pretty cold out.”

“Jack, I swear if I walk into something-“

“I got you babygirl, don’t worry.” He held his hand on your lower back which was left exposed from the dress. You both walked a short distance from the car. Breeze slowly past you.

“We’re here.”

He stood in front of you, reaching his hands slowly around you to untie the blindfold.

You blinked hard to refocus your eyes. You looked to your left and right smiling. “You know when you said we were going somewhere special I didn’t exactly have the hospital in mind.”

You were standing at the entrance to the emergency department.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“The day you told me my excitement to be here would be short lived? I’ll never forget proving you wrong.”

“You know,” he took a deep breath, “I was struggling to come back here day after day, loss after loss. I wasn’t seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Not until you walked in and brought the sun with you into every shift. You’ve become my favorite part of every day. Even the hard days feel lighter with you in them. So yeah, this place will always be special. It’s the place where I found my forever. “

You went up on your toes to kiss him.

“Come on let’s go for a walk.” He grab your hand and lead you across the street into the park. After walking the path for about 20 feet, you saw tea light candles on both sides of the path with flower petals in between.

You stopped right in your track. Tears already filling your eyes. Face becoming warm.

“Jack, what is this?”

He smiled softly as you. “Come on. Let’s keep going to our spot. Want to show you something.”

You kept walking until you reached the middle of the path by the bench you two had sat on when he asked you to be his girlfriend. A bouquet of red roses sat on the bench in front of you.

“This is where I made you my girlfriend. And where I told you I loved you for the first time. Felt like the right spot to do this next part too.”

He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. “You know, I did have this whole speech planned but, things never go according to plan anyway so…”

He crumbled up the paper and shoved it back into his pants pocket.

And lowered himself down onto one knee.

“Two years ago today, we walked into this park as friends and left as a couple. Everyday since then has made me the happiest man on earth. You’ve been my partner in everything, my safe place, my challenge, my home. My forever.

Tears filled your eyes as your hand covered your mouth. “Jack”, you said as your voice broke.

“You’ve taught me more than being a doctor ever could. You showed me that love isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s quiet. It’s in the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching, the way we laugh at things no one else would understand. It’s in how we argue, but always come back to each other. You’ve taught me what real love is. You make me brave. You make me a better man. And I want to spend my whole life figuring out how to love you even more than I already do. I’ve seen so many versions of happiness in my life but none come close to what I feel when I’m next to you The more I think about it, the more certain I become.”

Tears streamed down your face.

“So I guess I just have one question for you.”

He slowly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small red box. With his hands shaking, he opened it gently. He revealed a simple yet elegant ring.

“Will you do the absolute honor of marrying me?”

A mixture of awe, laughter, and happy tears beginning to fill the space between you. You fell into his arms as he knelt before you. Wrapping your arms around him and letting the full weight of your body lean into him.

He leaned back, “Is that a yes?”, he said laughing.

“You could’ve asked me this the day we met and I would have said yes and 2 years later, the answer is still yes! I’ll always choose you Jack”

Still both kneeling on the cold, hard ground in each other’s arms laughing, crying, holding each other like no one else exists in the whole world.

He gently placed the ring on your finger. The outside world distant, everything had stopped except for you and him. The promise of a future.

He lifted you up and held you in his arms. You could stay in this moment forever. You glared down at the ring in full for the first time since he opened the box.

“I wanted it to be perfect. I spent weeks choosing it. Even brought Robby to the jewelers with me. I know it’s not just about the diamond or anything but I wanted you to have something that felt as special as you are to me.”

You couldn’t peel your eyes off of it. Slowly turning the ring on your finger, mesmerized by its beauty, feeling the weight of it, both literally and metaphorically.

“You picked the perfect one. Not just the ring. This whole night. Just you and me here together”

You took a deep breath you looked up into the cloudy night sky. A slight breeze flowing in between you both. Taking in the full moment for all its worth.

You heard more then just the wind rustling in the trees, before you could even realize what was happening, all your favorite people appeared.

Robby, Collins, Langdon, Mel, residents, nurses, at least a dozen people closest to you two.

“Surprise!” You heard it from every direction possible. Cheers for the both of you.

“You two are going to be so great together. You know we’ve all been rooting for you since day one, right?” Mel yelled excitedly.

Hugs from all around for you both. You lost track of just how many people he brought to support you.

“Come on let’s see that rock!”

You put your hand out for everybody to see. Thankfully, you got your nails done earlier that week. The ring catches the moonlight just right, a subtle sparkle, not flashy, but full of meaning. Love. The kind of shine that doesn’t scream for attention but, the type that draws eyes to it.

“You did good.” Robby put his hand on Jacks shoulder. “Really good brother.”

You lost track of time as everyone was gathering in conversation. Almost everyone had left for the night already.

You saw Langdon standing off to the side and walked up to him.

“So you did know huh?”

“Of course I did.” He nudged your arm, “Make sure you ask him about that note he put back in his pocket. You’re going to want to hear it.”

“I will. So, who are you going to be bringing to our wedding?”

He glanced down at you with a slight smile. “Mel.”

You started jumping up and down. Almost as excited as you were just earlier. “Oh my fucking god! I know it! I knew it this whole time!”

“Yeah I knew that you knew. That’s why I never explicitly said it.”

“Langdon, oh my god. I’m so happy for you two! She’s so good for you!”

“Trust me, I know.” He looked over at her smiling. “You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you about any of this? Or about her?

“I’ll never be mad at you Langdon. Jack might be my person but, you’ll always be my best friend."

“I’ll take second place I guess.”

“Mind if I steal her away for a moment?” Robby came up from behind him and put his hands on his shoulder.

“She’s all yours Robby.”

“You knew about all of it huh?” You glared over at him.

“He unfortunately tells me everything.” You two laughed. “But on a more serious note you both deserve all the love in the world, and I can’t think of any two people better suited for each other. Watching this chapter of your lives has been a pleasure and I’m excited to see what comes next for you two.”

“Thank you Robby. It really means the world coming from you. I’ll always appreciate you and everything you do for us both.”

Jack and Collins came up to you two.

“Let the man have some time with his fiancé, Robby.” Said Collins while intertwining her arm into Robby’s.

“Uh fine. Congratulations to you both again! Excited already for the wedding.”

You exchanged hugs with them and they were off.

“You put the sweater back on?” Jack looked down at you.

“Makes me feel like I’m wrapped in your arms. And there’s no safer place in the world Jack.”

“Come on, let me get my fiancé home.” Jack winked and wrapped his arm around you.

You grabbed your flowers off the bench before realizing that all the flower petal and lights were gone.

“Dana picked them up, gonna get them back Monday night. Could use them at the wedding for something.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a short silence, just looking at each other. The mood shifts more tender, more intense.

You put your hands onto his chest before crashing your lips into his. Hard. Lips moving rhythmically around each others. Desperate, aching, like you’ve both been holding your breath for years waiting for this moment.

When suddenly you feel water dripping onto your face. It’s starting to rain.

“Could not have planned that out better if I tried.” Jack laughed.

The walk back to the car was peaceful. Just you two in each other arms. The way it’s supposed to be. Rain falling around you.

Streetlights flash across the windshield. The silence is heavy. The tension during the car right home could be cut with a knife. He kept his left hand on the steering wheel and his right hand in yours softly caressing your thumb. Every chance he got he glanced over at you.

The ring still shines faintly as his hand is in yours. Rain tapping lightly on the windshield.

“Do we think the rain is good luck?”

“Maybe it’ll rain on our wedding day too.” You turned your head to see him smiling softly. “So fiancé, you got anything else special planned for tonight?”

“I could tell you or I could show you.”

The tension from the drive followed you too all the way upstairs. It didn’t snap, it deepened, filling the empty space all around you.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he immediately turned around. His hands wrapped around your neck as your hands went up to his chest. He pinned you against the wall as his lips crashed into yours. Tongues swirling in each other mouths. Moans filled the elevator until the ding that you had arrived to your floor. He quickly pulled himself off of you.

He pulled away breathless, panting already, he ran his hands through his silver curls.

“Fu- fuck, let’s go before I rip your clothes off right here.”

As soon as you both stepped off the elevator, he stopped.

“I can’t believe that I get to marry my best friend.”

“Thought Robby was your best friend?”

“Oh you beat him for that title within a week of us meeting. Now come on, I got to give my fiancé what she deserves.”

He wrapped his arms all the way around you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked your feet up into the air.

“Oh my god, fucking finally! Yes!”

He carried you down the hall to the apartment door, fighting with the keys in his pants pocket to get into the apartment as quickly as he possibly could. Finally behind closed doors.

Before you know it his jacket hits the floor, shoes kicked off lazily, fingers tracing familiar lines around each other bodies Every movement is slow and deliberate, not just passion, but raw intimacy. The kind that screams, I want all of you and I’m not going anywhere.

“God you look so fucking good in this dress but, I need you out of it right now. Fuck”

He grabbed your hand and lead you into the bedroom.

“Let me see what I’ve been missing out on.”

He pulled your body against his as his hands slid behind you untying the dress, never breaking eye contact. He gently pulled the straps on your shoulders down around your arms. Underneath a surprise.

Not only did you go and buy him a gift earlier that week, you stopped at the lingerie store to pick up something extra special. A red set. Lace. Tightly wrapped all around your body.

He trailed his fingers down the fabric on your stomach. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane already babygirl.” You watched his eyes roam your body, up and down as you unbuttoned his shirt, getting down to his belt buckle.

Hands went to your waist, pushing you back against the bed. Wrapped his arms around you, lifted you up, and threw you down onto the bed. His eyes went dark. He was starving for something only you could give him.

He stood at the edge of the bed, undid his own belt, pulling his pants off in a hurry. Tight black briefs that showed his excitement. He ripped off his socks before crawling on top of you.

Fingers tracing every inch of your body. You squirmed under his touch.

As he came face to face with you, you whispered, “Take me.”

He hand slid effortlessly underneath you, untying your lingerie. Sliding in fully off your body as if he’s done it a million times before.

He lightly kissed you before making his way down around your neck as his hand began to explore your body. You felt his hand on your stomach, instinctually, you open your legs for him.

“That’s my good girl.” You threw your head back letting a soft moan leave you as he sucked on your collarbone. You felt his hand go lower.

“Jesus fucking christ, so wet for me already. He growls lowly, the possessive need in him taking over him completely.

“Been waiting for you all night.” You panted out.

“Is that right?” He didn’t hesitate, his middle finger was inside of you.

“Oh fu-fuck Jack. Please.”

“Patience my sweet girl. You’ll get what you need soon enough.”, He leaned into your ear, “We’re going to do this how I say. You’re going to finish on fingers, then on my tongue, then we’re going to finish together.”

His fingers slid easily through your juices as he began sucking on your breasts. Gently biting your nipples. Fingers curled inside of you while his thumb did circles around your clit. The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as he curved his finger into you, finding that spot that drove you wild.

Before you knew it, another finger was inside of you. The sounds of your wet pussy filled the room. He knew exactly what spot to hit each time.

“Ja- Jack, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“

“Give it to me babygirl. Cum on my fingers.”

You arched your back as your legs began to shake under the pleasure. There were sounds leaving your body you didn’t know you could make.

“There we go, that’s my girl.”

You let go completely. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body. Your first of many orgasms tonight. His fingers still inside of you, slowly moving.

“Gotta taste her now.”

“Fuck Jack, ju- just give me a second.” Legs still trembling, you struggled to catch your breath. You covered your face with both hands. Embarrassed that you were already struggling to keep up with him.

“Damn you missed me that much huh?”

You didn’t respond.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuck I can’t believe I can’t keep up with you and your like twice my age.” You laughed.

He grabbed both arms off of you dragging them to your sides before wrapping his left hand around your neck. His veins in his hand bludging out. You look down to see his new gold watch. What a good idea.

“First of all, I’m not twice your age. Second, I know what my girl needs and how to give it to her.”

You glared up at him, chain dangling right in front of your face. You bite your lip and said, “Oh god, just shut up already and clean the mess you made.”

“Anything for you sweetheart.”

Before you knew it, he was leaving a trail of saliva down your body. Kissing every inch of your body. “You want this?”

You grab his hair and pushed him down into your cunt. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your fingers tangled in his sliver hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again into you, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, I could stay here forever.”, He mumbled against you. “This pussy is all mine tonight. You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

You could hear slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment forever. Your breath came out in gasps, moans, your whole body burning under his relentless attention to you and your ever need and desire.

Your body began to pull back from him. He reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you back into him.

“Where do you think you’re going sweetheart?”

“Fucking hell, Jack, ah Jack!” You wrapped your legs around his body. “Oh my god!”

Once again, he sent an orgasm crashing through your entire body. Leaving you gasping for air as he crawled back up to you to admire his work.

“Come here, want you to taste yourself for me.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, shoving his tongue all the way into the back of your throat.

He pulled off of you, “You need a second before we keep going?”

“No but, you’re going to when I finish with you.”

You pushed him off of you and onto his back. You leaned in, brushing your hand softly, over the strain in his briefs, the curve of seven-and-a-half inches compacted against the fabric of his briefs.

“Lets get rid of these.” You pulled his briefs down to see his cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. You were drooling for him.

You grab him with one hand and spit on it. Rubbing your saliva up and down his already throbbing cock.You kiss the tip before sucking on his head.

“Just like that sweetheart, keep going for me.” Seeing Jack beg was a rare occurrence and you were eating it up. “Fu- fuck, oh god please.”

You pulled your mouth off and grabbed his cock with your hands, feeling every vein in him pulse against you.

“You gonna finish for me baby?”

He grabbed all your hair in one hand. “Put me back in your mouth right now and I’ll show you.”

You moaned onto his member, fighting the urge to swallow him whole and suck every last drop of his cum out of his cock. You brought your hand to his balls, gently squeezing them, making him push himself further down your throat.

“Sh-shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” He pulled your hair tight, letting out noises that you’ve never heard from him before. He came hard, shooting himself into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down once more before crawling up to him, his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth dow not your chin. You wiped yourself with your thumb and sucked on your fingers while he watched.

“You taste so good for me.”

“Fucking hell babygirl.”

“Yeah? You need a second?”

“Fuck no.” He flipped you over with no hesitation. Like you were nothing to him. The weight of his body fully on top of you. His sweat mixing with yours.

“Remember, I stopped taking my birth control Jack.”

“I don’t fucking care, I need to feel myself inside of you right now. I’ll go slow,” he promises, lips kissing yours, “You won’t have to worry about a thing babygirl. You just tell me if it’s too much.” Your heart flutters at his words.

He holds his frame above you, both arms holding himself up around you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and you want it closer.

You lift your mouth and kiss him, his tongue licking the insides of your mouth. His hands move down your body, knees digging into the mattress to keep himself steady.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want you to fuck me Jack. Please. I need you inside of me.”

One hand reached down to grab his cock. He positioned himself at your entrance, slowly sliding just the tip in. Your moans filled the room as he slid further into you.

In and out. Your body’s syncing up perfectly as he thrusted himself all the way inside of your soaking wet pussy. You dug your nails into his back. You threw your head back, closing your eyes as he pounded himself into you. His balls slapping against you with every thrust.

He wrapped his hand around your throat once again. “You want me to keep going, you better keep those pretty fucking eyes on me.”

You opened your eyes to find in staring into you. His eyes dark. His chain swinging in front of you, hypnotizing you.

He leans his head back, almost like he's fighting the orgasm, trying to make the moment last as long as his body will allow.

“Fuck, baby, you're going to make me cum," he groans.

"Want you to cum, Jack. Want you to fill my pussy," you whine. Your words whimpering, practically begging, music to his ears.

"You want me to fill you up babygirl?” his hands tighten their grasp around your neck. "You want me to cum inside you?”

“Please Jack, I need it. Put a baby in me," you say, not even thinking twice about it. You need him, all of him.

“You want me to breed you, babygirl? You want me to fill you up and give you a baby?"

As your whimpers gets louder he takes your hand and guides to your lower belly, pressing together with his hand on the place where his tip bulges from inside of you.

“Ah, fuck babygirl, come on, cum with me.”

“Ja-Jack, oh god!”

He fall onto your body, his thrust became sloppy as he groaned into your ear. His breath hot against your flesh.

With his last thrust, he gently kissed your lips. “You’re so good to me babygirl. There you go, so glad I finally got to cum inside you”, he places a kiss on your forehead. “Think I’m going to have to start working out more to keep up with you babygirl.”

“Wish you could just stay inside of me forever.”

“I’m sure we could arrange that.” He laughed.

He sucked on your neck some more while you could feel his cock soften inside of you. He finally pulled himself out of you. He lowered his hand and put it on your cunt.

“Wanna keep her full. Don’t want you to ever forget how she feels with me swimming inside of her.” He dragged the dripping cum back up before putting a finger inside you once more. You let out a loud moan before he pulled out of you.

He threw his body next to yours and let out a sigh. “Jack, I don’t think I can even walk right now. Trust me you don’t have to worry about me forgetting who I belong to.”

“I thought about this since the last moment we were in bed together. Guess all that waiting was good for something.”

“You could let the do all the work next time, you know?”

“You got a deal babygirl. Shit, I would’ve proposed a long time ago if I knew I was going to get the best sex of my life out of it.”

You crawled onto him, resting your head on his bare chest.

“You know, not to ruin the mood or anything but, Langdon mentioned the paper you shoved back into your pocket earlier. Don’t know if you want me to read it.”

“Yeah I figured he would.”

“So are you gonna let me read it? Is it the same thing you said tonight or?”

“Well yes and no. It’s not technically a proposal written on there. Might actually be better if you read it the day we get married.”

“You want me to wait until the day of our wedding to read it?”

“I mean, I’ll hide it if you don’t trust yourself to not read it. But please, for the love of god, don’t go around asking what’s in it.”

“No, it’s okay, I think I’m starting to like surprises now.” You laughed.

With his crooked smile, he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too Jack. Until the end.”

———————————————————————

Six Weeks Later

You’d be feeling off the past few weeks. You chalked it up to the stress of realizing you were going to have to plan out a whole wedding while working as a full time night shift attending. And now Jack wants to go house hunting.

“Hey! You alright in there? We gotta go before we’re late!” Jack knocked on the bathroom door.

“Jack, I don’t know if I’m going to make it in tonight. Can you come in here please?”

He slowly opened the door, peeking his head around first. You were sitting on the floor against the shower tub next to the toilet. Fully dressed and ready to go to work.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright??” He ran up to you.

“Well, I just threw up and feel slightly better but, this nausea is just something else right about now.”

“You think you’re alright to be going to work like this?”

“Yeah I think I’ll be fine just need to take some Zofran or something and I should be able to push through. Don’t want you guys to have to work short tonight. I don’t know maybe it was your cooking.”

“You said it was good…”, he sighed as he helped you up off the cold bathroom floor.

“I don’t know just nauseous really. That’s it. This wedding planning is going to give me an ulcer Jack.”

You somehow made it through the entire shift without vomiting on a patient. But by the time handoff came around, you were struggling just to breath.

Once you were done, you sat at the nurses station in the corner, waiting for Jack. You put your elbows on your knees and your head down into your hands.

“God you look so pale. Don’t go passing out on me now.” He walked up to you.

“Can you just help me to the bathroom before I throw up all over the floor please?”

He walked you over and as soon as the door was open to the single stalled bathroom, you ran inside. Swinging your arm back to shut the door before he could see you throwing up yet again.

He could hear you in there and immediately followed you inside. “Fucking hell, again. Are you pregnant or something?”

You glared up at him, “I don’t know but, something’s wrong Jack.”

“Are you late?”

“Jack I don’t know. I’m never even regular. I don’t fucking know.” You looked up at him and wiped the cover of your mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, we’ll be okay no matter what’s going on.”

“I think we need to go buy some tests.”

“Shit.” His eyes widening as his jaw practically fell to the floor.

———————————————————————

Woooo! Chapter 3! Wrote most of this while watching the MET Gala looks and honestly all the hot people make it so much easier to write lol. But I really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it! Keep an eye out for the next chapter to find out where this one is going! ;)

Thank you to the like 4 people that asked for more! This one is for you guys!

487 notes · View notes

thecherrypittttttt · 26 days ago

Text

I CAN SEE YOU; dr jack abbot x chief res!reader

words: 3,200+

content warnings: jealous abbot, fluffy, YEARNING, lil bit smutty

notes: based off of this banger

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He was everywhere. Or at least it felt like it.

His shoulder brushing against hers as they lifted a patient from gurney to bed. His rough but warm fingertips skimming her own soft, manicured ones as they swapped shift notes. Every hallway she was entering, he seemed to be exiting - their bodies just barely grazing each other as they passed by. In the ambulance bay, outside the family room, the break room, at the nurses station.

He was everywhere in that damn ED. And now he was here too - at her usual hot yoga class.

Jack already felt like a fool for being there. His therapist had been telling him for years to try yoga and for years he had been rolling his eyes at the suggestion.

Typically, he was pretty good about listening to his therapist but what could yoga teach him about focus and presence that years in combat and emergency medicine hadn't already?

That was until she showed up.

Jack can still remember the exact thought he had the first time he saw her, 'Thank god she is not on the night shift.'

Her confidence, her beauty, the way her hips swayed when she walked, her brain, her laugh reverberating through the ED, how calm she was under pressure, her smart ass comments that made him crack a smile even on the worst of shifts - would all cause him a lot more trouble than they already did if she was with him on the night shift.

The first year of her residency was fine. He barely saw her and when he did, he told himself that he was just proud of a competent student who had a bright future ahead.

The second year of her residency, he had to admit to himself that he had a crush. A crush that he could never ever act upon - it was inappropriate on so many different levels - but a crush none the less. He was her boss, her teacher, at least 12 years her senior and he respected her far too much to let his own selfish wants get in the way of the career she had worked so hard for.

This third year was absolutely fucking killing him. He thought he had finally gotten a handle on his crush. That admiring her from afar was the closest he’d ever get to having her. And he was okay with that. Until Shen and his wife had a baby and Shen asked her to swap shifts with him.

In true Shen fashion, he didn't even mention it to Jack. Jack just choked on his coffee when she walked through the door and told him the news. When he asked why she'd agreed, she just shrugged and said, "If I'm not going to have a life outside of this place, I guess Shen can."

It has only been a month of her on the night shift and Jack already feels insane. Which is how he found himself at the closest yoga studio to the hospital. He was desperate to regain his previous level of focus so when his therapist suggested yoga again, he listened for once in his life.

Once he saw her, Jack probably had about a 5 second window to escape the studio without being caught. But he missed it because he was too busy drooling over how her skin tight powder blue leggings complimented the swell of her ass.

"Dr Abbot?"

Too late now. She unrolled her mat next to his, because of course the only spot left in the class was next to him, and then she just looked at him with a shadow of a smirk on her face.

"What is so funny?"

"Nothing. I just never would have pegged you as a hot yoga guy."

"I'm not."

She just raised her eyebrows in question.

"My therapist suggested it."

"Therapy and yoga? Next you're going to tell me you have a Nobel Peace Prize or something."

Jack's lips couldn't help but mold into the smallest smirk. He was so happy this room was dark. "No...just a purple heart. Only had to give them my leg to get it.”

The laugh she let out earned them a couple glares but Jack could care less about disturbing the quiet of the yoga studio when she was looking at him like that.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

She felt almost nervous as she trekked up to the roof. Their shift had sucked - plain and simple. It felt as if everyone coded in some capacity. One of the many they could not save was a veteran and Dr Abbot had just gotten through telling the family.

Probably why he was getting chicken wings and beer DoorDashed to the roof of the hospital.

She opened the door with her hip, both hands being occupied by Dr Abbot's delivery.

"What are you doing here?"

"You know they only pay residents so much - I had to pick up a side gig." Dr Abbot's was too distracted from the long day to realize she was making a joke.

His face falls into what reads as surprise and then sympathy. Like he's been an attending for so long that he forgot the abysmal wages residents make.

"I'm kidding! Your dasher took his job title a little too seriously and dropped this off with me in the ambulance bay and told me to get it to the 'guy who is always on the roof.'"

"You didn't have to come all the way up here."

"I wanted to check on you."

"I would have come down to get it. I have legs."

"You have leg. Singular. Not plural."

Jack let out a genuine laugh that he didn't even know he was capable of after the day they had had.

"Have you ever considered stand up?"

"Have you ever considered standing on the safe side of the safety railing? Just a thought."

"I like the view from here." He was staring right at her.

Ironically enough Jack had started going to yoga to distract himself from her and it has done the complete opposite. If anything, the friendship they have struck up has made him more bold. They have a routine - they work, they go to yoga, they get a tea and then Jack drives her home. And they yap the entire time.

Oh yeah, she's started calling him Jack now. So much so, he doesn't blush anymore when she does it. But she is blushing now.

Her cheeks are burning red. She is hoping to blame it on wind burn or something. Is Jack finally flirting with her? Ever since they ran into each other at yoga, class by class, she has gotten him to relax around her. She gets more Jack and less Dr Abbot. But still, it feels like he's restraining some piece of himself from her.

She noticed last week, when she mentioned her rapidly approaching residency graduation, he seemed different. At first he seemed surprised, almost like he forgot there even was a residency graduation. Then relieved like the concept of her no longer being a resident was exactly what he needed to make any kind of move. Or so she hoped.

She turns, his food and beer in hand, sits against the wall of the hospital and cracks open a beer. What is she doing? She doesn't even like beer. But she likes Jack. And is trying really hard to not imagine the muscles she sees under his shirt at yoga being used to press her against the wall she's sitting against.

"Hey - that's mine."

"Get over here then, Abbot."

He takes off of his jacket on his walk over and she allows herself only a second of imaging it on her bedroom floor. The feeling of Jack placing it around her shoulders and plopping himself next to her brings her out of her head.

"You don't have to-" She starts.

"You’re cold." He gently tugs her hair out from under his jacket and she wants to absolutely melt at the brief sensation of his touch on the back of her neck. She has to stop herself from whimpering. She tells herself to get a grip.

She just holds up her beer, "Consider this my delivery fee."

Jack clinks his beer against hers, "Cheers...to being a yoga guy."

Her bright eyes blow to the size of saucers, her jaw drops, and she's laughing as she knocks her shoulder against his, "I knew it!"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jack is in trouble. He now has an unlimited monthly yoga membership to the studio closest to the hospital even though he only ever goes with her after their shared shifts. He thinks he may be falling in love. Fast. And even worse, he is starting to allow himself to think that maybe she is too.

He thinks maybe it was always there for both of them but something about this impending residency graduation has given them both the freedom they needed to explore it. Not that anything has actually even happened.

She felt stupid. She was close to getting herself a neurology consult for the way she was thinking. Nothing had ever actually even happened between her and Jack. But having to go from experiencing his quiet confidence and intellect and calm teaching at work to his sweaty muscles and heavy breathing at yoga had her brain running absolutely wild.

He probably sees her as nothing but his favorite resident and she is practically falling in love with him. And that isn't a hyperbole.

The night was slow in the ED. Noone dared to say that out loud though. Especially since it was still earlier - barely 9 PM. Some of the day shift was even still there - opting to work their mandated monthly double shift on a slow night.

They were both at the nurse's station - always in each other's orbit. Jack was charting and she was recommending a jeweler to Bridget. She had found him when looking for someone to make a custom dog tag necklace that was meant to be a replica of the kind her dad wore when he was in the Army. When he died, they were never able to recover his actual tags.

Jack's phone went off and he stepped away for a moment before returning. He pointed at her before tucking his phone back in his pocket, "Gloria says we have a VIP patient en route from PPG Paints Arena. Connor Matthews from the Penguins. And he has specifically requested you."

If she didn't know any better, she could've sworn Jack's jaw twitched.

The murmurs began real quick. Why was the star of the Pittsburgh Penguins requesting her? She hated that Connor was coming in but she sort of loved that Abbot could potentially be jealous.

Princess cut straight to the point, "How do you know him?"

"We grew up together. He played hockey with my brothers."

Connor was being ushered in, still in his jersey and ice pack resting on his forehead, as she walked over to him.

Jack watched out of the corner of his eye, hoping he was looking like an attentive attending rather than just plain jealous. He pretended to be charting but he was straining to hear every part of the conversation.

"I texted you."

"I know."

"I called you."

She grits her teeth as she repeats herself, "I know. I also know that you could have gotten stitches from the team doctor so why the dramatic visit?"

"I think you know why."

"Connor, I don't know how many times I have to tell you this-"

"I know! I just can't help myself."

"Well start." She deadpans, flashing her light pen way too close to his eyes. Maybe not the most professional thing in the world but he deserved it for wasting her time like this.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Checking for a concussion."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Mateo, can you please take him over to a room and stitch him up?"

"I requested you."

"And I request that you stop wasting my time at my job that you disrespected then and you are disrespecting right now."

"I didn't mean to."

She ignores him. She gets one more quip in before Mateo is wheeling Connor away. "Oh, Connor, I almost forgot - are there any 21 year olds we need to call to let them know you're okay?"

She hears a muffled laugh behind her. She turns to see Jack, elbows on the counter of the nurses station, pretending to be engrossed in his charting. She goes to plop down in the seat in front of him.

"Eavesdropping is impolite, you know?"

"I don't know what you are talking about"

"My standup career, remember?"

Jack grins at her, his eyes soft and then he does the unimaginable. He winks at her. Like he is acknowledging he got caught listening in on her conversation with Connor. She almost falls out of her chair. He seems perfectly fine, walking around the nurses station to grab one of the tablets.

"Didn't know your boyfriend was a hockey super star." He speaks up from behind her.

"Ex boyfriend."

She feels his breath on the back of her neck before she hears him. His tone is low and almost sensual, "Good." is all he says before he's walking away.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

She doesn't know who is squeezing her harder - Dana or Collins. The moment she stepped into the bar they were running over, squeezing the living shit out of her and whispering 'Congratulations' into her ear.

"Congratulations on what?" She laughed.

"Graduating residency!"

It was tradition, every summer when the residents graduated, the attendings took the team out to celebrate on their tab. Legend has it, there used to be a graduation ceremony with speeches and presents and an open bar. But due to budget cuts, Abbot and Robby had to take matters into their own hands - and credit cards.

"Oh and Robby has a surprise for you." Collins added.

"Oh no. If it's anything like the surprise he gave you last year then I decline! She is so damn cute though." Robby and Collins won't actually admit that their baby girl was conceived on this same night last year but the rest of the pitt crew have decided to make it canon.

"Before I hand you this drink, I need you to sign this. If you want, obviously" Robby interrupts - the world's largest grin on his face.

"Sign wha-" The realization dawns on her mid sentence. It's her offer letter to become an attending at the pitt.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Absolutely sparkling, shining letter of recommendation from Dr Jack Abbot, by the way. He never writes those. Almost gave Gloria a heart attack with that one.” Robby winks at her as he hands her a pen.

She signs. They cheer. They hug. They cry a little bit. Happy tears - at the idea they now get to spend more time together rather than one of them getting shipped off to a different city for a new job.

She can’t remember the last time she was this happy. And a lot of it has to do with someone who isn’t even here yet. She spots him walking in and her feet are carrying her over to him before her brain can tell her to stop.

A smile appears on Jack’s face when he sees her. She’s not in scrubs or workout clothes - although she looks just as beautiful in those.

She’s in a white sundress and sandals. Her hair wavy and her cheeks tinged pink and laden with freckles. He noticed hers come out more in the summer time, just like his.

They’ve never really hugged before but she’s throwing her arms around his neck to hug him hello and his arms wrap around her waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’s so close he can smell her lip gloss and he wants to kiss it off of her more than anything.

He settles for, “I heard I have a new colleague.”

“Aren’t you lucky?”

“Very.”

Then she’s pulled over to chat with her fellow residents. Abbot over by Robby and some of the other attendings.

Drink after drink, people start to fall off. She joins Collins and Dana and eventually the boys make their way over as well. Everyone is making bets on who is going to go home with who.

Santos goes home with Garcia. Easy money. Same for Victoria and Mateo. Langdon goes home alone and sober - thank goodness. Dana’s husband picks her up and Collins and Robby have to go relieve their baby sitter.

Robby sets his half finished beer in front of her, “Here, finish my beer. Don’t wanna waste it.”

She grimaces and Collins cackles, “Robby, you know she hates beer!”

Then they were gone. Jack wore the world’s cockiest smirk on his face and they were alone.

“So did you hate beer that day on the roof too?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The bar is shutting down so Jack pays the tab and they make their way out into the sticky, summer air.

“Come on - I’ll drive you home.”

They’re walking so close their hands brush about five times on the short walk to the car.

She turns to Jack before he can open her passenger side door but he was one step ahead of her. He’s practically an inch away from her as he speaks.

“You know there used to be an actual graduation ceremony for the residents. With presents. So I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to-“

Jack just places the small box in her hands. He takes her purse so she has free hands to tug the ribbon and open the present.

She gasps - her dad’s dog tags. Presumably, the real ones. She can’t even form words, “How did you even-“

“Called in a couple favors.”

A couple of tears fall because this is the absolute nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for her. Jack is hesitant in his reach but the loving look in her eyes spurs him on. His hand cradles her cheek, wipes away her tears.

“Jack-“

“Yeah.” His voice is clipped, out of breath, expectant - hanging off her every word.

She nods her head, almost to encourage herself, before looking back up to him, “I’m going to have to get a new job if I am totally reading this wrong but I think I’m in love with you.”

“Thank fucking goodness.” And then he’s grabbing the box out of her hands, placing it and her purse on the hood of the car before his hands are on her. Kissing her with every ounce of pent up longing from the past three years.

She’s pressed against the passenger seat of his car, her hands in his hair and his cupping her face.

Eventually, his forehead falls to hers as he whispers against her lips, his hands resting on her waist. “I love you.”

“I’ve pictured this so many times.”

“You won’t believe the things that I’ve seen in my head. Wait until you see half the things that haven’t happened yet.”

“Well then why don’t you show me, Jack.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He’d already pulled an orgasm from her using his thigh - had her pressed against his front door.

“God, you’re fucking perfect. I can’t believe I get to se you like this.” All she can do is let out a low moan in response.

Her body felt like it was on fire. Since they’d moved into the bed he’d made her finish on his fingers and now was eating her like she was his last meal.

She tugged at his curls, finally, after imaging it so many times. He groaned into her, inserting another finger and sending her over the edge.

“Oh - Jack! Oh my god-“

“There she is - my good girl.”

He’s insatiable and who is she kidding - so is she. He’s kissing up her body, pinning her hands above her head.

“Jack, I need to feel you. Please.”

His hand lightly wrapped around her neck. He whispered in her ear, “God, I love you.” And then he’s kissing her forehead and sliding into her all at once.

“Holy shit - you’re so fucking tight. So fucking perfect.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

Neither of them last much longer. She’s on orgasm #4 and he’s on #2 (she’s been waiting for years - she couldn’t not suck him off the first chance she had).

“I’ve never orgasmed that many times before.”

“Pretty good for an old man, huh?”

“All that yoga must be paying off.”

They laugh - all that yoga is paying off far more than either of them could have ever imagined.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #jack abbot x you #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbott #jack abbott #dr jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot fanfic #dr jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbott x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt fic #dr jack abbot

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glamorizethechaos · 1 month ago

Text

Labor of Love | Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: Getting pregnant with Dr. Abbots baby was never in your cards. From a sloppy one night stand to a passionate relationship, Jack becomes the protective boyfriend you always wanted. Going into labor a month early, Jack ends up delivering your baby himself.

A/N: I have literally never written smut a day in my life so this is strange for me but IM TRYING, OKAY? Catholic guilt goes crazy.

TW: 18+, accidental pregnancy, implied age gap, childbirth, preterm labor, probable medical inaccuracies (what know about childbirth is based on my own experience giving birth myself. shit sucks btw.), fluff, poorly written smut

Word Count: 3.3k

Not Beta Read

You had always hoped your child would be conceived after a night of romance. Something out of a movie. Perhaps a candle lit dinner followed by passionate love making? Growing up in the age of Nicholas Sparks novels certainly skewed your romantic view of the world. You certainly never expected it to be with your stone cold attending Jack Abbot, in a night of well...alcohol fueled fucking. Jack putting you in positions you didnt know were humanly possible, and having you making noises you didnt even know you could make.

"Thats it baby, give me more." he growled into the crook of your neck as he fucked you through your second orgasm. Slowly stroking in and out of your squelching cunt as your body arched and contorted beneath him. Your moans echoing through his loft apartment. His rough hands anchoring you as he stretched you out, his cock fitting almost perfectly inside of you. He loved watching you lose control, your eyes rolling back with each deep thrust, your toes curling as he hit that spongey spot that made you come undone.

And he wasn't finished. You see, Jack was a gentleman, chivalrous as some would say. He took his time. He didnt dare let himself reach his climax until he was pleased with his work. Until he felt your pussy squeezing and throbbing against him, gasping for breath and beginning for his cum. He fucked slow and deliberate, stretching you out- filling up every single inch. Only when until you demanded he fuck you faster…harder, did he really lose himself in you. Your legs resting in his broad shoulders, him holding onto your thighs, fingers digging into your soft flesh.

The sweat dripped down his forehead as he fought to stay in control. You were so tight, twitching around him with each thrust, it felt euphoric. Just when you thought you had nothing left, his hand traveled down to your swollen clit, drawing circles with his thumb, rendering you breathless.

"Fuck, Jack..." you whimpered. Your breathing was erratic- mouth dry, longing for his tongue to explore yours once again. He knew you were close again, it didnt take him long to discover what made you tick, and what made you lose all control.

"That's it, good girl. Let go." and thats all it took for you to erupt. He fucked you ferociously through your orgasm, the bed crashing against the wall with each thrust until he collapsed on top of you. You both struggled to catch your breath.

No wonder the condom broke.

When you stood the bathroom of the Pitt looking at the two blaring pink lines it felt like you had the wind knocked out of you. You saw your entire residency crumble beneath you. You contemplating not telling him, writing a script for mifepristone and misoprostol yourself. But after work that night, you found yourself at his apartment. Your hand hovered over the door before you heard a voice behind you.

"Y/n?" Jack stood with his backpacked slung over his shoulder, wondering what the hell you were doing at his place. After sleeping together weeks prior not much changed between you. You never spoke of it and carried on like work colleagues. Maybe he stood up a little straighter when you walked by, maybe your cheeks felt flushed whenever he brushed up against you during a trauma.

By the look on your face, Jack knew something was wrong. He fumbled with his keys as you stepped aside enough for him to unlock the door. He pushed it opened and ushered you in first.

"I'm sorry, I know that was a rough shift b-"

"Whats going on? You alright?" he cut you off, kicking off his work sneakers and setting his stuff down by the door. He watched as you fumbled in your bag, searching for the positive pregnancy test that seemed to be buried under your empty snack wrappers and old receipts. You hesitated before pulling it out of your bag.

His hand hovered before reluctantly taking it from you, looking at you beneath his furrowed brow. He had been to war, he had been surrounded by complete destruction, he had seen the worst of humanity, and yet he had never been more scared than in this moment. He inspected it, flipping it over, holding it up to the light, but the two lined were as clear as day. Dark. Blaring. Indisputable.

“I’m sorry. I-“ you couldn’t find the words. Your mouth opened and closed liked a fish out of water as your thoughts faltered.

“Why are you apologizing?” Jack asked, confused, dry and deadpan.

“I don’t know."

"It’s not your fault. I mean I was there too.” He said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes burned as the tears began to well up, blinking ferociously to stop them from falling. However soon one fell, and then another, and another. Before you knew it you were sobbing in Jacks arms. The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity as he traced circles along your back. It felt strangely comfortable, his arms holding you against him, the smell of sweat and antiseptic on his scrubs filling your nose.

"What do we do?”

“We figure it out. If you want to keep the baby or if you don't, we figure this out. You aren't in this alone. ”

And you did. As your bump grew, so did your closeness and love for each another. You almost missed the first time he told you he loved you. You were cooking him dinner, something you loved to do despite your multitude of food aversions. Hips swaying side to side to a spotify playlist as you glided around his kitchen. He was trying to watch the Steelers game but kept finding his eyes on you.

“I love you.” He called out quietly. You felt your heart jolt.

“Huh? Did you say something?” You asked in disbelief, turning down your music to make sure you heard him right. Jack hesitated, trying to gauge your face and reaction before repeating himself.

“I said, I love you.” And he took you right there on the living room floor, fucking you senselessly as the pasta boiled over on the stove. You ordered takeout that night instead.

However, aside from in the bedroom, Jack wasn’t especially affectionate, especially not in public; and while he tried to make more of an effort, he didn’t say “I love you” often. But it certainly wasn’t lost on him.

You found him reading books about obstetrics in his free time, he instinctively put his hand on your belly when a patient was being especially combative, he signed the both of you up for a childbirth class where he took notes, or he would text you “you craving anything?” on his way home from the hospital on your nights off. All the subtle things he did made you realize he was completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

The first time Jack felt the baby flutter, you don't think you had ever seen him so happy.

On mornings after a particularly rough shift, and Jack couldn't sleep from the adrenaline, the two of you would watch the morning news until one of you eventually folded, usually you. His hand rested on your swollen bump that you could no longer pass as bloating to your nosey coworkers. Of course Dana was the first the sniff it out. Jack rubbed circles on your belly, it helped calm him, ground him, and have at least something to help keep his head above water. Suddenly he felt a little kick, jumping up so quickly he almost tripped, running his fingers through his hair with the dumbest smile on his face.

"Did you feel that? Was that my baby girl?" he started to pace, unsure of how to process this other worldly experience.

"Girl?" you chuckled, raising your brow, "How are you so sure its a girl?" the two of you decided you wanted to be surprised. You were certain it was a boy, but he shot down all the baby boy name suggestions because, "it didnt matter anyway." He liked the name Grace.

"Yes, my girls are both right here. Hi Gracie girl." he knelt down next to the bed, rubbing and kissing your belly as you rolled your eyes.

But the comfortable bliss of the second trimester was short lived as you entered your third. Growing more and more uncomfortable as the weeks pass and your bump grows. You don’t want to be touched, your back hurts, waking up nearly every night from heartburn, and those damn Braxton Hicks contractions making your abdomen tighten like a vice grip.

After every shift, Jack meets you on the couch to rub your swollen feet, not before checking your blood pressure of course.

“Jack, I don’t have pre eclampsia.” You’d protest and the cuff tightened around your arm.

“You know just as well as I that it can sneak up on you quick… 118/72…”

“See? I told you I was fine. I’m swollen because I was on my feet for the past 12 hours.” You elevated your legs on his lap, kicking his thigh with your foot before he started to rub them.

“Are you sure you’re okay working? You can always go out on maternity leave early.” Jack was particularly protective of you right now, no matter how many times you protested you didn’t need light cases loads at work. He’d make you take frequent breaks, and show up at the nurses station with a water bottle and crackers. You spent more time in the bathroom from all the water he made you drink rather than tending to patients.

“So I can sit at home and go stir crazy? No way. I’m only 36 weeks. I have a month left of this hell.” You threw your head back as he massaged a particularly tender spot. You took a long bath and changed into one of Jacks Army t shirts and a pair of his sweatpants, his clothes were the only things that fit you comfortably at this point. The shirt was ratty and nearly falling apart at the seams, but it was your favorite to wear. His smell embedded into the fabric no matter how many times it’s been washed. The sleeves stretched from his biceps that you loved to bite and nibble on when you two laid together.

You crawl into bed next to Jack who has already pulled down the blackout curtains and turned on your white noise machine you can’t sleep without. He looped his arm around you, nuzzling his head into your damp hair that now smelled of lavender and lemon verbena. It wasn’t long before you felt his breathing slow and his arm grow heavy over your bump.

You tossed and turned, feeling incredibly restless. Unable to settle, you flipped on the bedside lamp and started reading one of Jacks medical journals, hoping your eyes would eventually become too heavy to fight it. That feeling never came. It felt as if though you just ran a trauma, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You decided to go for a walk, your back aching, stopping ever so often to breathe through those damn Braxton Hicks. God you were so over this.

You spent the rest of the day cleaning whatever you thought was necessary. The baseboards, the inside of the freezer, and the top of the fans that you made him dust only last week. Had Jack known you were on top of a ladder, he’d have had a conniption. Soon you heard Jacks alarm go off and him shuffle out into the kitchen, his eyes tired and heavy.

“You get any sleep baby?” He asked, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Not really. Just too restless.” You shrugged as he poured himself a cup of coffee. You watched at he changed into his black scrubs and threw some extra things into his backpack. Today was your night off.

There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, sometime inside screaming for Jack not to leave. You shook it off. Maybe it was just the indigestion. He grabbed an apple off the counter to eat on the way in. He held it in his mouth as he zipped his sweatshirt before taking a bite.

“You need anything before I head out?” He asked, grabbing the keys to his pickup. You watched the clock behind him, timing the minutes between the pains in your lower abdomen.

It’s just Braxton Hicks. It’s too early. You’re probably tired. Dehydrated. No, no, it’s just too early.

“Baby?” Jack called out again.

“Oh no I’m fine. Have a good night, my love.” You walked over, lacing your hands around his waist and planting a tender kiss on his lips, tasting the apple he’d just eaten. Then another twinge in your stomach. How long had it been?

8 minutes.

20 minutes.

5 minutes.

15 minutes.

3 minutes.

Something was happening. These felt different than the Braxton Hicks contractions that plagued you for weeks. Water. You had the primal urge to be in water. You ran another bath, submerging your belly, holding onto the sides of the tub as the surges continued to come, and then a low groan. You were vocalizing now. You had to be in active labor. You sat there for 2 hours, adding more hot water to the tub whenever you caught a chill.

Before you knew it, it was 6 am. You wanted to call Jack. You needed him. But he’d be home soon, God willing.

You no longer could concentrate, low, guttural moans escaping your mouth during peaks of your contractions. You didn’t even have a hospital bag packed. You started throwing stuff into a bag, none of it made sense. A tooth brush, a t shirt, a scarf. What? Why would you need a scarf? The pain was too intense. Why was this all going so fast? This was your first baby. You’d heard horror stories your entire pregnancy of women laboring for 24 or even 48 hours.

When you heard the jingle of his keys and the knob turning, you were hit with the strongest contraction yet.

“Ba-,” As Jack opened the door his eyes widened. He immediately threw his stuff down and rushed to you, who was leaning over the kitchen counter, rocking your hips and moaning. “Baby how long have you been like this? How far apart are your contractions?” The birthing classes immediately kicked in, bracing himself behind you and giving you hip squeezes until the contraction passed. It felt like heaven.

“They started before you left for work… and uh… 3 minutes now.” His face fell.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asked, your face in his now shaking hands. Before you could answer you were hit by another contraction that now sent you on your hands and knees. He grabbed a cool rag and placed it on the back of your neck as you roared. The counter pressure he applied to your back no longer offered any relief. He coached you through the contraction that felt like it would never end, and all you wanted was for him to shut the fuck up. Suddenly the lights were too bright. His voice was too loud and your shirt was too tight.

“Off.” Is all you could say and you tried to take your shirt off yourself. Jack helped pull it over your head, the fabric peeling away from your damp sweaty skin.

“Baby, I wanna check you.” He asked, putting on gloves he grabbed from his bag. After giving him a nod, he rested one hand on your back before checking your cervix. He cursed under his breath. “You’re 9cm and 100% effaced. We have to go. Now.”

“But I’m only 36 weeks” you began to cry as you were hit with another contraction. Getting to his truck felt like ages. Stopping what seemed like every 30 seconds to double over through another surge. The second you sat down in the passenger seat you felt a pop and a gush between your legs. Your water broke.

“Thank god I laid those towels down first, huh?” Jack tried to joke through shaky breath as he barreled out of the driveway. You didn’t find it funny.

The hospital was a 15 minute drive, 30 with traffic. Unfortunately for you both, it was morning rush hour. You couldn’t sit, undoing the seatbelt you braced yourself against the headrest. Jack trying to rub your back with his free hand.

“Want your birthing playlist?”

“Fuck you!” Is all you could muster.

And then the urge. The incredible and uncontrollable urge to bear down.

“Jack… I have to push.” And his face went white. He quickly pulled to the side of the road and jumped out, grabbing his go-bag from the back seat before sprinting to open the passenger side door. He could see the baby start to crown and immediately pulled out some gloves, a fresh towel and his stethoscope from his bag. You always teased him about this go-bag. He couldn’t wait to tease you about this later.

“Okay my love, I see baby’s head. She’s almost here. She’s got a head of hair!” He was STILL so set on this baby being a girl. His voice cracked from fear and emotion that he was about to deliver his own baby.

You felt the ring of fire, your legs shook as you tried to push past the burning pain.

“I can’t do this! I can’t fucking do this!” You protested, still on your knees, now leaning over the center console.

“Yes you can baby, listen to your body. You’re doing so good. The hardest part is almost over. We’re gonna have a birthday today.” And you screamed again, pushing as hard as you could, the veins popping out of the side of your neck, your face growing redder and redder. You roared your baby out. Then relief. Sweet, sweet relief.

Jack caught your baby in his hands, his eyes clouded with tears that immediately began to fall. He helped your turn back over and brought your sweet baby to your chest.

“It’s a girl!” Jack sniffled. He was right. He was always fucking right.

“Why isn’t she crying, Jack?”

“Just give her a minute. Rub her back.” he pulled your shirt down again to do skin to skin. He’d by lying if he wasn’t panicking too. “Come on baby girl, let’s hear those strong Abbot lungs.” And then you both heard it. The most beautiful shrieking cry from your little girl. You threw your head back in relief and he rested his forehead against your temple, crying. You’d never seen him cry before.

“I just had a baby in the car, Jack.” You looked at him, in a daze. High on adrenaline and oxytocin.

“And you were a rockstar.” He kissed you before checking you and the baby before continuing to the hospital. You delivered your own placenta as you stared in awe at your little girl. She had his nose, his eyes, his chin… the more the looked the more you realized she was a spitting image of her father. Of course YOU do all the hard work for her to look nothing like you.

Jack pulled into the ER ambulance bay to find Dana already outside smoking a cigarette. He jumped out and screamed for a wheelchair. Snuffing the cigarette out with her foot she rushed over,

“What’s going on, Jack?” She had already paged Robby at the sight of him, looking dazed.

“It’s y/n, she just had the baby in the car. Page the NICU, baby seems fine but she’s only 36 weeks. Placenta delivered and intact.” He gave her the rundown before opened the passenger door to you latching your baby to the breast for the first time. You could not take your eyes off of her. Robby came out once he heard the page to find everyone huddled around the truck, helping me into the wheelchair.

“What’s this?” He asked, a goofy smile on his face.

“This is your niece, Grace Michaela Abbot. Michaela after her Uncle Mikey.” You smile up at him, absolutely beaming.

#the pitt #noah wyle #michael robinavitch #dr abbott #jack abbot #shawn hatosy #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #dr jack abbott #dr abbot x reader #dr abbott x reader #female reader #the pitt fanfiction #fanfiction

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frombookstoretobookstore · 30 days ago

Text

Cat Dad Abbot

A/n: Because I have a cat and I love Abbot Masterlist

Abbot x Reader

“Y/n, it’s staring at me again.”

“Y/n, it’s touching me.”

“Y/n, there’s cat fur on my scrubs again!”

Jack Abbot is not a cat person, and he barely tolerates his girlfriend’s cat. The thing is always tripping him up, getting fur all over his things, and worst of all, he can’t tell if the thing likes him, despises him, or both.

Sure, the thing has fur and big round eyes, so he’s sure it falls in the classification of ‘cute’, but pets aren’t his thing. He doesn’t understand why people keep cats around. A dog? Sure, they usually like to go for walks, run around, be outside. But cats? They shit in a box for Christ’s sake.

To make matters worse, he’s almost positive the cat only sleeps when Y/n is sleeping at night. Meaning the thing decides to terrorize him when he’s trying to sleep after a night shift. She’s constantly pawing at his face while dropping a toy near his hand.

On the weekends, when he and Y/n can sleep on a relatively similar schedule, he gets to sleep deeper, the cat is less likely to be tearing down the walls when his partner is sleeping next to him. But tonight? The cat’s really testing his patience.

“Y/n, get it off.” He huffs. He’s lying on his back waiting for her to come to bed. Her cat, Clara, has decided he’s the perfect victim for her pursuits. She’s immediately jumping onto his chest, tail swishing, as she proceeds to curl up on him. Even him sneezing from the few loose strands of cat fur in his nose can’t disturb her.

“She likes you!” He hears his girlfriend coo from their connected bathroom. He turns his head and shoots a glare her way. The movement causing the cat to stir, turn towards him, and start using his stubble as her own personal brush.

Clara is headbutting his chin aggressively as she scratches her face, chin, and cheeks against his rough stubble. He again hears his girlfriend continue cooing and the unmistakable sound of her taking pictures.

Every time he tries to remove the cat from his chest and face, she slinks right back onto him to continue her onslaught against his beard. Moving quickly, he pushes the cat off his chest and sits up.

“That’s not going to stop her!” His girlfriend laughs as her cat quickly stands on its hind legs to bat at his face. He glares down at the cat as it starts furiously purring. He looks to his girlfriend for help.

“Stop being so grumpy! She clearly likes you! With my past boyfriends she’d just sit in the corner and glare at them. She once even peed in one of their shoes.” His girlfriend is applying moisturizer as he grumbles with the cat touching him.

“Change the subject.” He huffs, over protectiveness flaring in his chest at the mention of her previous (and unqualified) flings.

“Hey, just saying. None of them ever got the approval of her nor were they able to make me cum as quick as you are.” He huffs out a laugh, pushing the cat away from his face again. Clara sits down and begins to groom herself aggressively.

“Your breath stinks.” He mumbles to the cat, causing her to look up at him with her leg still in the air.

“And you’re a grumpy old man who is scared of sharing his girlfriend with a damn cat.” Y/n says with a laugh as she sits down on her side of the bed, the cat immediately walking over to her for attention.

He sighs at the sight, the two enjoying each other’s company, as he starts pulling his prosthetic off, a spare sneaker still attached to it. He feels relief as he pulls it off, setting it against the nightstand. The cat immediately coming over to investigate.

He looks down at the feline tiredly, the cat’s tail swishing as she sits next to him as he pulls his legs up and over onto the bed, swinging the covers over him. He holds a hand out and the cat head butts him with such force, she almost knocks herself over. He scratches the space between her ears and the cat erupts into vibrations. His girlfriend chuckles softly, her most recent romance novel pick already open and in her hands.

Abbot lays back and lets the cat fall into his side, the vibrations reverberating into his own chest. The slight static of the police scanner faint in the background grounding him as he settles in, enjoying the quiet night.

He turns his head slightly, hands behind his head, as he watches his partner read, her lip between her teeth.

“Let me know when you need me to act out a scene.” He smiles as she laughs and looks over to him, their hands intertwining.

“I’ll let you know.” She hums, tracing the back of his hand with her thumb.

Clara jumps down to the hardwood floor next to Abbot, her tiny six-pound body making a large ‘thud’ as she lands. Abbot groans, knowing what’s coming next.

They both hear the familiar scratching as Clara grabs his prosthetic by the laces of the sneaker and drags it under the bed. He can hear her kicking it with her back legs, the sound of titanium meeting cat claws evident from under the bed.

Y/n groans. “You do this every time Jack, you put it there on purpose knowing she’ll do this.” She’s up and trying to shove herself under the bed, fingers a mere inch from the cat.

He laughs slightly, hearing his girlfriend swear at her cat as she tries to wrestle the prosthetic from her.

“At least we can agree on one thing,” he says, tilting his head up to watch his girlfriend hold the prosthetic in triumph, “she hates that damn thing as much as I do.” He laughs when his girlfriend groans, placing the prosthetic on top of his nightstand as he continues to cackle.

“When your prosthetist calls, asking why there are so many scratches on that thing, I’m telling him you bait the cat nightly to let her destroy it.” She huffs, pushing his hands away in mock anger as she crawls back into bed.

“At least it has battle scars to match me.” He laughs, his girlfriend hitting him in the chest lightly as he pulls her into him, settling in for the night.

---- I'm sick and I'm writing self indulgent fics for my pleasure, hope y'all like it!

#dr abbot x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot imagine #jack abbot x reader #shawn hatosy #jack abbot x female reader #the pitt 2025 #jack abbot x you #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt hbo #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott #dr abbot #dr jack abbot #the pitt spoilers

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asxgard · 1 month ago

Text

Semper Fi | [2/8]

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: Feelings come to a head after a particularly bad patient interaction.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: I’m so thankful you guys enjoyed the last one so much! I was so nervous to write for Abbot, he doesn’t flow as easily as Robby does for me lol Thank you for the likes, comments and reblogs omg!!

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: age gap, foul language, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, violence against women/healthcare workers, being bad at feelings, mild pining

not beta read

Between leaving a tea or coffee on your desk at the start of your shift just so he could watch the way you lit up, and him leaving a protein bar on yours to make sure you always ate, something started tangling in your ribs. Completely unnoticeable unless he cracked a rare smile, tugging the strings deep in your chest until you felt the heat. The pull. The ache. You left little sticky notes on his desk, sometimes with a coffee and a smiley face, or one with ‘usual place after shift? I have a sandwich with your name on it’.

You shared silences during sunrise, quiet and soft and content in the company of each other. There was no facade to be found on the roof. Just him. Just you. Unbothered by the stillness, the close contact of skin. No mask to be worn, just an easy smile from you and a gentle gaze from him. It was not completely vulnerable, but it felt just as good.

It felt clean, comfy and completely within control, if it weren’t for the messy feelings in your chest whenever he met your eyes.

It only took a few months for the storm between you two to brew, tense and heavy, finally reaching a breaking point after so many lingering stares and quiet mornings on the roof.

So this argument seemed to come completely out of nowhere.

How had the argument started? Patient care. The tensions were high after a mass pileup and apparently, Abbot thought you were taking too long between patients.

Too slow. Too soft. echoed in your head, not good enough.

You cursed New York for the way the words filled you with dread, ignited by the sight of Abbot’s disappointment.

Even before he had said anything to you, both of you far too caught up in the rush of stabilizing and assessing, the thoughts began to make you angry. Patient care was why you had become a goddamn doctor in the first place, who was he to yell at you about it?

“The time you’re taking, you could’ve already assessed the guy coming off the ambulance already!” While he was not shouting, his voice carried across the busy ED.

You leveled your gaze at him, tone remaining as it had, though your features had flattened into a plain expression, “Will that be all, Dr. Abbot? I don’t think everyone heard you.”

His nostrils flared, his hard gaze never wavering from yours. A thousand words could have been said between you in those few seconds, but you knew none of them mattered. Not when he was snapping at you in front of everyone, not when he had clearly crossed a line.

He moved to help intubate the incoming patient. You turned your attention back to the woman you were assessing for internal bleeding, ordering a CT scan of her head and abdomen. You were able to comfort her while making notes in her chart, irritating sitting heavy in your chest.

After each patient had been settled and cared for, you went to find Abbot. Why was he being so hard on you all of a sudden? It surely wasn’t over patient care, not really. He was a no-nonsense kind of man, something you had come to admire. If he had been annoyed in your turnaround time with patients, he would have said something. He would not have waited for it to boil over in front of everyone. That was unlike him.

You found him in the south hallway, just outside of Trauma 1, tablet in hand. His face was stoic as always, a brutal type of beauty you tried to convince yourself not to see. Sculpted by his experience in the ED, leaving behind sharp edges and an even sharper tongue.

“Would you like me to guess why you’re so frustrated with me? We can make it a fun little game! Guess Why Abbot’s A Total Asshole Today. Or would you rather just chastise me some more in front of the entire ED?” You asked him, folding your arms across your chest. Part of you wanted his approval, and the other part wanted to shove it back in his face.

His dark eyes flicked up, assessing you silently. The quiet brooding type had always easily lured you in—no, no, no. You were mad at him. You were mad at him. You disliked the way his eyes softened, just barely, making your stomach flip again. It burned when you shoved the feelings down your throat to maintain your neutral gaze.

“You don’t get it yet.”

“Please enlighten me, then. I never took you for someone to hold back.”

His sharp eyes were on yours, “Time costs lives, especially in scenarios where we have multiple critical cases coming through the door.”

You scoffed, “It makes sense why the satisfaction scores here are in the fucking toilet. Patients are more than words on a screen or cases to be closed. They’re human beings.”

“Do you think they give a shit? Whether I see them as a human being or a case? Do you think it matters to them when you’re saving their life?”

It felt like deflection.

Your lips finally curved into a frown, frustration bubbling in your stomach, “So you think a few words of comfort are completely useless? Even when it takes just a few seconds of consideration?”

He matched your frown, but something in him finally relented, much to your surprise. You could see him digest your words, and you knew it was the contradiction of everything he had learned in the military and everything he knew as a doctor. Quick efficiency vs mindful consideration.

Your frustration began to evaporate. “Look—”

“If that works for you, don’t let me stop you. Just be more mindful of the time you take.”

And he walked away.

—

Hours ticked by, and your mild irritation sat at a boiling point. It was easy to see Dr. Abbot cared about the patients coming in, but it was always at a distance. It was calculated consideration, not cold callousness that you had thought in the heat of your anger. The patients were not just numbers, or injuries to mend, but perhaps that was easier for him. To assess, treat, move on. Perhaps that was how he compartmentalized.

Your own compartmentalization really was the key that kept you smiling, kept you as the ray of sunshine everyone knew you to be.

You were warm, in just about every aspect of your life, but especially with your patients. Spending time to check in on them, offer them an extra pillow or blanket, to stop and grab them a sandwich if they weren’t on any restrictions. That came as easy as breathing. You knew nothing else.

So when your aggressive patient was being abrasive and combative, you steeled your smile and did what you could. You offered calm words and a cheery bedside manner. You wore a mask of it, of a fake smile, but it protected the real one that laid underneath.

The patient was mad at the world, which had turned him to the bottle, and left him passed out on the sidewalk. He was yelling and you listened, just nodding along, while your eyes scanned over his chart. Ending up in the hospital after drinking too much was not new to this man, which was good information to know.

By the time you turned back to your patient, he was out of his bed and swinging. Despite his staggered gait, one landed directly on your cheek and pain bloomed. You hit the floor with a smack, hands taking most of your weight so your head didn’t hit the tile and all the air was out of your lungs.

You were thankful for the resident passing by, calling security and helping you up. You smiled at Dr. Shen, dusting off your hands before gently touching your cheekbone and wincing.

“For a 0.3, he’s got a mean swing,” you smirked, trying not to be hard on yourself for allowing it to happen.

Dr. Shen just raised an eyebrow at you, “You alright?”

You brushed him off, “Yeah, you mind checking on South-20? I’m going to go get an ice pack.”

He nodded, glancing over your face again before going to do as you asked. You started back to the staff lounge, just to take a minute, get your bearings. You were genuinely surprised any of his hits landed, or landed with much force, due to how drunk he was. Patients had tried before, but you had been more prepared for those.

After snagging an ice pack, you sat down in the lounge. You snacked on a protein bar, and decided once you were done, you would get back to work.

Dr. Abbot rushed into the room like there had been a fire, making you look up at him in confusion. He was in front of you in an instant, crouching down slightly to be eye level with you. He moved the ice pack aside to assess the damage with that calculated look you knew well — but something unknown to you rested in his eyes. You tried not to wince when his fingers found your cheek and his hands stalled, looking into your eyes.

The air around you felt palpable. Like all those lingering touches and softening gazes finally spinning together like a tornado tearing through a town.

He was so close, you could finally see the green in his hazel eyes. They had always looked brown to you when you stood across the hallway. A contentment settled in your mind seeing him up close like this.

“You should see the other guy.” You forced a smile.

His eyebrows moved downward, just a fraction, but easy to tell up close.

“I’m ordering a head CT.” He said softly, thumb tracing lightly across your cheek.

“Whatever for? I’m fine.” You quirked a brow at him. “Nothing a little ice can’t fix.”

“Don’t do that right now. There’s no ‘look on the bright side’ for you to find. You were assaulted.” His voice was tense, eyes flickering over your face in something that edged dangerously close to concern.

One minute an asshole, the next someone who cared? This man was going to give you whiplash.

“Yes, and lesson learned. Don’t turn away even slightly away from drunk, aggressive men. Should’ve already known that one.” You chuckled.

Dr. Abbot stared at you for a long moment, “Can you at least get a CT for my sake, then?”

“Careful, Dr. Abbot. Your asshole edge is slipping.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

It ignited something hot in your chest, making you grin. You dared to dance just a bit closer to the edge.

“Too late.”

—

Your CT results were normal, and with no other symptoms, Dr. Abbot calmed. He was still mildly irritated, taking over the case of the drunk man and not letting you anywhere near it. His rough edges returned after he left the patient’s room and you could see him stewing in his thoughts much clearer than you ever had before.

The end of your shifts came with a bit of a routine, and this one was no different, watching as Dr. Abbot slipped away to the stairwell that led to the roof. You finished your last chart and followed him.

He was behind the railing this time, leaning on it like it was supporting more than just his weight. While it was still hard to read him, you could see he was deep in thought, looking down at the concrete of the rooftop. You moved closer to him, slowly approaching the railing while looking at the sun on the horizon, burning red and orange.

“Whatever’s going on here, it has to stop.” He refused to look at you. “It won’t work.”

Your breath got caught in your throat, heat washing over your features before you quickly schooled them. You were not one to run from your feelings, but the fragility of what was lingering made it feel like you should have. He was technically your boss. He was older by more than a decade, closer to two if you were being honest with yourself. There was an impossibility there and you were shocked he was even calling attention to it. You had been content with whatever was trying to settle between you, but the thrill of giving it a name was sending the tangled feelings to weave around your heart and squeeze.

You hummed trying to regain your composure, stepping to put your hands along the safety railing, but you did not look over at him, “You say that so definitively. Anything’s possible.”

He looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not good at this. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You quirked a brow at him, “There’s fun in discovery.”

“I’m too old for you.”

“Isn’t that my choice to make here?” You asked, voice soft. Each word out of his mouth felt like flimsy excuses, and you might have found it amusing if you didn’t want to prove each one wrong.

“You’re going to regret me.”

But you liked him like you enjoyed summer rain or rolling thunder, how you found peace in darkness or in the rush of wind. Quiet, controlled, powerful, breathtaking.

“Life is too short for regrets, Dr. Abbot.”

Something in him must have given way, because his lips were on yours in the next breath, startling you. It was like finally giving into the tide pulling you in, and the relief of it shocked through your entire system. You were quick to respond to him, all of your feelings exploding like an array of fireworks in your chest at the feel of him. Rough and warm and undeniably addictive.

“Fuckin’ call me Jack.” He breathed against your lips, noses touching.

You found yourself smiling at him, “Only if you stop being an absolute ass.”

He considered it, “I think I can make an exception. For you.”

You kissed him again, the sunrise burning against your back, hands going to his cheeks. He was quick to wrap you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, careful of the bruise on your cheek. He hummed against your mouth, his tongue slipping easily inside, tasting like bitter coffee and something sweet.

“Let me make sure you get home safe, yeah?”

“Jeez, buy me dinner first, will you?”

“What about breakfast? There’s a diner a few blocks away.”

You agreed quickly before he had a moment to doubt it.

[ Next ]

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Jack is so It Will Come Back by Hozier coded omg I love that man

#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x you

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lunarcowgirl · 1 month ago

Text

lean with me | two

yeah yeah i wrote another part for my fuckass jack abbot x f!doctor!reader fic <3

read part one here and part three here

not my gif! but i do feel crazy about it!!!!!

jack abbot made a damn fool of himself in front of the one person he desperately wants to rely on him, now he's got to hope you'll let him fix it.

from the office of the author: damn! ya’ll got me feeling some kind of way in the comments and reblogs, I didn’t look at tumblr all day after part one scared it would have no notes 🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words!!!!! ideas for these two are currently eating out my brain like a terrible infectious disease, so expect more soon xoxoxoxo

also, if by chance you have requests/ideas/thoughts drop me an ask, you’d warm the freezing cockles of my heart <3

warnings: age gap of 10+ years, old man is a goose, the weather is shit in pittsburgh but i am from the southern hemisphere so i don’t understand how real winter works pls forgive me, #rollins apologist behaviour from the author, characters stand close to the edge of buildings but they don’t have any plans for leaving said building, bad grammar, bit o’ angst, bit of fluff (as a treat)

word count: 1.6k

Dr Abbot thought he was doing a rather terrible job at feeling anything other than pathetic thank you very much. The final 30 minutes of the shift dragged into eternity, and you were never close enough. You quietly extracted yourself from every scenario in which Jack might touch you or say your name. Hands quick, words gentle, you continued to heal your patients, but the wound between you and Jack remained gaping.

As 7am dawned, black and cold, Jack found himself to be in an entirely black and cold mood. And Robby’s aggravating cheerfulness upon arrival certainly did little to help.

“Brother,” The new father chirped across the desk, “How’d it go last night?”

“Sparkly.” Jack deadpanned, nearly tearing through the paper under his hands with the scratch of his pen. The computer you’d spent so much time hunched over this shift was now dark and quiet.

Usually you would wait to say goodbye before leaving, punching him lightly on the arm, cracking something wise-ass about putting his compression sock on right when he got home, letting his body rest.

“Don’t want the old legs given out on us now do we?”

You’d smile a smile that would tear right through him, making him feel young, like he could run on those old, broken and missing legs forever and ever. Every time it was a battle to not chase after you, to catch you at your car, to ask if you’d smile at him somewhere other than a place that always stunk of pain. That smile was no where to be seen. He tried his best to ignore the sensation of panic sitting near his heart.

“That bad huh?” Robby frowned, looking across one of the calmest Pitts they’d had in months.

“How is it at Casa Robinavitch?” Jack asked, putting down his instrument of destruction to look up at his friend. Robby looked 20 years younger, almost *glowing—*the freak.

“Baby slept 12 hours,” He declared throwing his hands up in delight. “Heather is perfect, and she is all mine tonight,” He added, only marginally quieter, eyebrows dancing.

In the wake of PittFest and all its rotting, rubbing, terror and ugliness, Robby and Heather deserved some goodness. But so much of it, right in front of Jack, was not kind on the stomach in this particular moment.

“Godspeed brother.” Jack laughed, rising from the desk and grabbing his friend’s shoulder for a quick squeeze. “Don’t fuck it up please?”

Robby nodded, smile unmoved, “I won’t. Now can you get your ugly mug out of my face please, I have work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, have a good shift.”

Standing in front of his locker, the prospect of returning to a freezing, empty house for the next few days held no sense pleasure for Jack. What were the chances that if he wished hard enough, when the door clicked open you would be sitting on his couch in that ratty Penguins jersey you so adored, arms open and waiting for him? Slim, he decided. The usual low growl of the shift’s repressed hardship echoed through his head, waiting to eat away at him in the silence outside the ER. A quick trip to the roof, a few minutes in the freezing cold, would steady him enough to face it…and the absence of you.

The echo of your words seemed to bounce off the concrete walls of the stairs as he ascended.

What right do you have? Like it’s me that’s hurting you*?!*

He sped up; as if he’d ever been able to escape your voice. How was he going to explain his regret, his apology to you? Every last combination of words he tried felt shallow and inadequate. You deserved so much more than cello-taped sentences of shame.

Exploding out into sub-zero was euphoric. For just a moment, the world was in sharp focus, the blur of the past several hours evaporating into nothing but white. Pittsburgh peered down at him, the concrete offering its own disapproving look, the glass its own sting, the barren trees their own answer. Someone else was peering back at it, standing on the other side of the rail, leaning against the freezing metal.

That puffer.

You’d bought it on the very first day of Summer, parading it around the sweltering heat of a Pitt with aircon on the fritz.

“It cost me barely anything,” You told anyone who would listen, “Guess how much!”

You’d twisted back and forth, ensuring everyone got a good angle of the quality, nearly taking out Whittaker in your enthusiasm. Eventually you’d spun around to face Jack.

“Go on Cap, guess!”

He’d said something, a number plucked from obscurity. He couldn’t remember it now, or wether he’d been right. All he was thinking, now and then, was that it exactly matched the colour of your eyes.

He didn’t approach quietly, not wanting to startle you. Each crunch of snow felt like a choice being made, a door fast approaching, a step towards an abyss. You spoke without turning.

“I thought you’d come up here.”

Your words settled; a stone in a pool, ripples dancing out, brushing gently against his heart.

“I can leave if you want.” Jack said, hoping against all hope you would shake off the offer.

Your eyes turned to him, even brighter against the snow. You sighed, dusting off a patch of metal beside you and patting it firmly, “Lean with me.”

Jack only just managed to steady himself in his haste to join you, head nearly colliding with the steel as he ducked between the rails. For a moment you and him leant in breathless, anticipatory silence, looking out at the city that you had sweated and fought and cried for all night long.

It was you that first spoke into the void, “I’ve applied for the new Emergency Pedes Fellowship at PTMC, or have you forgotten that residents do have to find another job after the program ends?”

Jack’s eyes snapped to your face. He remembered Robby mentioning the opening position weeks and weeks ago, just in passing. But all the times you had mentioned your interest in Emergency Pedes medicine, every case you had jumped on to heal a little body, to calm a little mind, to soothe a little heart…he should have put the pieces together.

Without thinking he blurted, “You’ve been the only one ever any good with parents,” The internal wince at his messy attempt at soothing was immediate. Good with parents—what?

Your voice was small now, a tear soaked laugh just perceptible in it, “I didn’t want to tell you until I’d heard either way. I didn’t—” You did laugh now, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Jack turned out to the city, the biting January air far, far easier to face. What an utter fool he was.

“I’m sorry.” He said, shaking his head. You didn’t say a word, just let the wind blow right through the both of you.

Jack returned his gaze to you, letting his eyes have their fill. Taking in each and every line and crease and feature. His favourite face in the whole world.

“I’m sorry,” Your name so soft and reverent on his lips, “It was incredibly…asshole of me.”

Your face scrunched at the words, rallying against a growing desire to laugh, “It was asshole indeed.”

The smallest of smiles. Your proximity. Your endless well of warmth and hope and joy. It made him want to be brave.

“I don’t quite understand it yet, but I feel very strongly about you. You are the first and last person I think about everyday. Yours is the face I picture when its all too much. Your voice is what I hear when I’m afraid. Your laugh is what stills me, calms me.”

Your mouth parted, just a bit, eyes becoming endless, swallowing him whole.

“When I thought that you might leave, perhaps that you would go overseas again, I was struck with fear I haven’t felt in a long, long time.” He took a long, stuttering breath.

“I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You surrendered, moving towards him, hand outstretched.

“It’s not an excuse,” he said, the words coming like a released river now, an outpouring of everything gathering dust within him, “I was selfish and I shouldn’t have done that, it’s not fair—”

Your arms enveloped him, face burying deep into his neck, hands curling into his hair. Everything you had wanted to do from the very first moment your eyes found his. He melted into your embrace, strong arms banding around your body, face pressing into the softest skin between your collarbone and shoulder. You cried into his scrubs, your relief and disbelief and joy bleeding out onto him—this man who had just given you a gift you had never even hoped could be yours.

Jack mumbled into your skin, “Baby, my baby.”

You pulled back, just enough to send your lips flying across his skin, every last bit you could reach. He accepted them gladly, so malleable and giving in your hands. Finally, finally, you found his mouth, crashing home with delight. For one precious eternity you simply remained pressed together, as if somehow endosymbiosis will begin. When you released each other, there was shared breath to relish in, and the feeling of foreheads connected, hands twined together. Could it have possibly been winter? Spring had come to a hospital rooftop in Pittsburgh. Something entirely new had bloomed. Jack gently released you to capture your face in his hands, with one thumb he carefully smoothed the skin between your brows, banishing for now any hint of a crease. There was no confusion, no frustration, no fear here.

“Are you working tonight?” You asked, words too full of smile to really parse.

“No, I’m off for the weekend,” His lips were in your hair.

You kissed him again, more desperate this time, seeking something more. His hands drifted south, smoothing over your shoulders, finding your hips, the tips of his fingers just grazing your ass.

Heart beating wildly, hot skin on hot skin, you took a dive, “Have breakfast with me.”

~~~~~~~~

There is fluff and hope for them in the sunrise people! Thank you for reading, these two will be back very very soon xo

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#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbott #jack abbot fic #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #the pitt fic #the pitt angst #the pitt fluff #dr jack abbot #dr abbot #jack abbot x you #jack abbot angst #jack abbot fluff #jack abbot fanfiction #jack abbot x female reader #persiewrites

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eden031 · 25 days ago

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Sweet boy

Pairing: Jack Abbot x single mom! resident!reader

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified), reader‘s son plays soccer, reader feels like a bad mom, fluff mostly, implied that the kid is a matchmaker

Summary: When her son is having a rough patch, she asks her attending to come to his games, just as a temporary arrangement, of course. Though sometimes something temporary becomes normal.

Words: 4.5 k

A/N: Hey there, so this is what was voted for and I really like the way it turned out! It it rather light hearted and I really like the way it turned out. Though a quick disclaimer at this point, I have no idea what it is really like to be a single mom or a mom in genreal so please be kind in that regard. Also I might write a second part for this where reader finds out she is pregnant with Jack‘s baby and the ‚aftermath‘ of that, not sure about that though :) I still hope you enjoy this little story :D

Leaning against the nurses’ station she closed her eyes, the worry in her gut not getting better as the night wore on. It was his first sleepover and she was not happy about it, she had been reluctant about it anyways, but she knew the mother well, knew the father well and knew that there would only be three kids in total. It was safe and she knew that nothing bad could happen to him, she had slept over a ton as a kid and nothing ever happened. Still, since she had dropped him off at his best friend‘s house before she had gone to her shift the bad feeling her stomach didn‘t go away.

“You doing okay?” The voice of her attending pulled her out of her musings, he was standing closer than she had expected as she opened her eyes, feeling a slight heat rush to her face. His expression mildly worried, his salt and pepper curls slightly mussed. His stethoscope was wrapped around his neck and underneath it she could see the chain around it as well.

“Not really…” she sighed, rubbing her head, lying to him would get her nowhere, he was able to read her like an open book. “You know when you have a gut feeling that you really can’t shake?” she glanced at him with a small smile. He snorted slightly, nodding as he looked at her again. Not moving he still continued to stare at her, it was that kind of expectant stare he sometimes gave patients when they left out parts of the story they were telling.

“Yeah, definitely,” he crossed his arms across his chest, the thick forearms resting across each other. Sometimes she felt like a teenager when he was close to her, like she would start swooning after him like a lost puppy. Shaking her head slightly she tried to get that out of her head, hell he was her attending and in her eyes way out of her league.

“My son is sleeping over at a friend’s place tonight for the first time, can’t seem to shake the feeling that something terrible might happen,” she shuddered slightly as she shook her head. She knew that Abbot would probably have some wise words for her, he always did. „I sound like some kind of helicopter mom, don‘t I?“ she asked, laughing slightly as she looked at him.

„Nah,“ he shook his head, „We see shit in here people can‘t even dream of in their worst nightmares,“ he shrugged, „I think it‘s normal to be worried. And he is your first after all,“ A small smile was on his lips as he leaned against the counter.

„How did his match go, anyway?“ Abbot asked. She was slightly startled at the question, she had mentioned that her son had insisted on playing soccer this season and he had had his first match in the afternoon.

„It went well,“ she smiled, she had luckily been able to be there and cheer for him. „His team won and he put in the last goal, getting them out of the draw,“ a proud smile on her lips as she told that to Abbot. It had felt like she was watching her son in slow motion, running on his little legs with the ball in front of him, then one strong kick and he had scored the goal.

„Looks like you got a future star on your hands,“ Abbot smiled slightly as she laughed at that.

„If the love for it lasts longer than one season I actually might,“ she smiled at Abbot, trying to hide the sadness in her smile. Even if her son had played incredibly well he had still cried after the game, right after the kids had been allowed to go see their parents. All the dads had been so supportive the entire time, the mums as well, but that had not triggered her son‘s crying. It had been a conversation that they had been having for what felt like ages, on and off, even if her son was only seven, he understood the concept of not having a father or even father figure rather well. Especially since all his friends had really great and involved fathers. She knew that he was happy and that he loved her, it had alway only been them together, but apparently he was currently in a stage in life where he just wanted someone else besides her.

A sniffle left her as she realised the thought had made her cry again. Sometimes, well a lot of times, she felt like a bad mom. Due to the fact that most of her friends were either from work or her son‘s friends‘ mothers she did not know that many other single mothers. She had no advice on how to deal with these emotions and it made her feel so horrible.

„Hey, hey,“ he gently touched her shoulder, the concern in his features evident as he gently touched her shoulder.

„Gosh, sorry,“ she wiped away the tears, trying to stop the tears from falling again. A groan escaped her as she sniffled again. Suddenly her phone started buzzing in her pocket, fear shot through her as she grabbed it, holding up her hand to Abbot, her tears going dry right away as she saw the name of Josh‘s best friend‘s mother on the screen.

„Hey, is everything alright?“ she asked with panic in her voice. She knew she needed to calm down, panic wouldn‘t get her anywhere.

„Hey, yes, sorry if I am calling at a bad time.“ the voice sounded exhausted as she heard shuffling in the background.

“No! It‘s okay, I have some time on my hands right now,“ she shot Abbot an apologetic glance, though he still looked concerned at her, his hand still on her shoulder.

„Okay, I just wanted to tell you that the three of them devoured four pizzas and were knocked out afterwards, they are all sleeping right now and it looks like they are not going to get up until like at least ten tomorrow,“ Lara sounded exhausted, but she let out a sigh of relief.

„Thanks for letting me know.“ she paused. There was another pause on the other side of the line.

„Sorry, I didn‘t mean to keep you from work, have a good shift.“ Lara sounded exhausted, they quickly said their goodbyes and she hung up, letting her head fall backwards.

„Everything alright?“ he looked so concerned as he looked at her while she shoved her phone back into her pocket.

„Yeah,“ she let out a relieved laugh as she shook her head. „She just called to let me know that they are sleeping like stones and everything is alright.“

He let out a relieved sigh as well, like he had been just as worried as the phone had gone off. It made her smile slightly, Abbot had met her son a few times already, it had always been during cookouts organized by someone, mostly by either Dana or Langdon. Her son had loved Abbot from the moment her attending had introduced himself to her son. Josh became attached to Abbot like a tick the moment he spotted him in a crowd of one of the cookouts. Always dragging her mentor along to everything he wanted to do and for some reason unbeknownst to her, Abbot just let him and did his best to satisfy the whims of her son.

The thing was, that had made her crush on her attending even worse, seeing the way he treated her son made her heart swell every single time she saw them interact. Probably the worst part of it all was that she knew that this was no silly little crush anymore.

„Thank god,“ he breathed out, his head falling backwards as well. Suddenly something came to her mind, but before she could even propose the idea to Abbot Bridgit called out that a trauma was incoming.

——————

Shift change had gone smoother than usual and she was finally on her way out of the building, hoping to be able to shower before she had to pick up Josh. As she stood by the lockers she thought about the idea she had had again. Maybe it was stupid, and maybe she would overstep if she did really ask that of Abbot, but she just wanted to know if maybe there was a chance for it.

Seeing Abbot also coming her way she fished everything out of the locker, stepped back and waited for him to approach her. Usually he never used the lockers, his backpack already slung over his shoulder.

„Mind if we have a little chat before you leave?“ he asked, his brow raised in her direction.

„Not at all, I actually wanted to talk to you about something as well.“ she gave him a small smile as they began making their way towards the exit. She knew that Jack always walked, he said that it cleared his head, though she knew that he theoretically could drive.

„Are you sure you are doing okay? You know that you can talk to me if something is bothering you,“ his voice was so gentle as they stepped out of the hospital. She sighed, the crying had definitely prompted that conversation.

“Yeah, no, I know I am not doing the best,“ she answered honestly, „It‘s about Josh,“ another sigh and as she glanced to the side she could see the concerned expression of her attending.

„Is he sick?“ he asked, of course that was the first thing that came to mind, not the quick kind of sick, the occasional flu, but she knew that he meant sick. The kind of sick that could tear people apart.

„No!“ she shook her head, „He is just having a bit of a rough patch,“ she paused, cringing internally as they continued to walk towards employee parking, „He has been asking more and more about why his dad isn‘t there and why he can‘t have an awesome dad like his other friends,“ she paused, „Makes me feel like a terrible parent,“ she shuddered.

Abbot stopped walking, she also did, following his him to the side of the sidewalk. His expression was stern, but still friendly.

„You know you are not a bad mom, right?“ he paused, „That kid loves you more than anything in the world.“ Carefully he put his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing them.

„I know,“ she tried to look away, but it felt impossible to draw away from these intense eyes. „I just…sometimes I wish I could give him that role model he so desperately wants…“ she sighed, rubbing her face. This was the point where she decided to just go with it and ask, „That was actually why I wanted to talk to you,“ she sighed again, Abbot looked surprised as she said that.

„I know that this is probably very unprofessional and also overstepping boundaries, but god, Josh loves you, always talks about you and every time there is a cookout he gets so excited.“ she paused gauging the expression on Abbot‘s face, it startled her when he looked slightly flustered, „But would you mind coming to the games with me? I know that you probably have a lot of stuff to do and more things to worry about, but-„

„I would love to,“ he paused, a small smile on his lips as he gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. It felt like the breath was knocked out of her lungs as she saw that sparkle in his eyes, for a moment she wasn‘t sure if it was just the light or if she could actually see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

„I would love to come,“ he repeated, again giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, again „Just tell me when and where I have to be and I will be there,“ his voice was soft as he spoke. It made her want to cry, the way he smiled at her like she had just given him the best news of his life.

„Will do,“ she smiled at him, tears beginning to gather in her eyes as well, she hated it, knowing that loving this man was probably never going to get her anywhere.

———————

Sitting in the bleachers of the small school soccer field she sighed, glancing at her phone she checked to see if Abbot had texted her that he was running late. The kids were still doing warm ups and she had hoped that he would be there before the game would start. Glancing to the side she heard soft murmurs from some of the moms from the boys on her son‘s team, they were the kind of soccer mom‘s she really did not like. The ones that looked down on her for being a single mom, like it made her a bad person. Following their eyeline she grinned, Abbot was walking towards where she was sitting, in the lower ranks so that she could keep a close eye on the game the entire time. The sight in front of her made her a little light headed, Jack Abbot in casual clothes was something she had never hoped to see and here he was. A pair of loose fitted dark blue jeans, a tight fitted t-shirt paired with a fleece jacket without a hoodie. His backpack slung over his shoulder, as he walked over to her.

„Hey!“ she grinned at him, not sure how to greet him, though that question was answered when he gave her a quick hug.

„Hey,“ he said as well, taking a seat beside her, his legs spread slightly. Before she was able to say anything she heard one of the other mom‘s say something that made her a bit prickly.

„God, what a waste,“ Karen, the epitome of said name, half shouted while glaring in her direction.

„Thanks again for coming, Abbot,“ she gave him a small smile, he just nodded, a small smile also on his lips.

„Of course, and Jack will do for now,“ he smirked slightly as she felt her face heat up at the idea of calling him by his first name.

„Alright, no last names,“ she gave him a cheeky grin, then looked at the backpack, which had been safely deposited between his legs. Suppressing her laugh she glanced at him.

„What have you got in the bag?“ she asked, nodding at the backpack, Jack hummed softly, a huff escaping him.

„Wanna have a look?“ he asked, while his eyes found her backpack as well, „Mind if I get a peek at what you got?“ a small grin on her face they exchanged backpacks.

Looking into his backpack she found an array of medical supplies, Butterfly ultrasound, neckbrace, field trach kit, tourniquet, a stethoscope, a catheter for a chest tube, syringe and a lot more.

„Came prepared, let's just hope we don‘t need any of these,“ she laughed as she placed the backpack on the ground again.

„You too,“ he nodded with a small smile on his lips.

„Looks like we came with a whole ED on our back,“ she laughed, „Still just so you know there are medics here as well,“ she paused, glancing over at the two teenagers who were the medics for the teams, „I just don‘t trust them,“ she muttered under her breath.

Jack followed her line of sight and nodded slowly as he also saw the two teenagers sitting there, glued to their phones.

„I get that,“ he hummed softly, looking over his shoulder now, she followed his gaze this time she saw Karen staring at him, her husband, Larry, sitting cluelessly beside her. „What is her deal?“ he muttered as he leaned in closer to her, his breath fanning over the side of her face.

„Just getting the newest gossip ready,“ she sighed, a small smirk on her face as she watched Josh helping one of his teammates up from the ground after the kid had tripped.

„For the Soccer moms‘ whatsapp group?“ he asked, his voice laced with amusement. A snort left her lips as she shook her head.

„Worse, the soccer moms‘ facebook group,“ at that comment Jack let out a laugh, gently nudging her with his elbow. She grinned at him, shaking her head slightly. She thought that she could get used to this, to him being around more. It was nice, having someone around that she could talk with, someone that cared for Josh.

„JACK!“ Josh‘s tiny voice pulled her out of her thoughts as she saw him barreling towards her, though he did not launch himself at her, but rather at Jack, jumping into his arms. Jack easily caught Josh, holding him close for a moment, laughing softly as her son‘s tiny hands grabbed his jacket.

„Are you here for my game?“ Josh asked, his eyes big. She felt her heart lurch slightly at the sight. Jack holding Josh, who was now half sitting on his lap, a big grin on his tiny face.

„Yeah, little champ,“ he nodded. The coach called Josh‘s name and he let go of Jack again, not saying anything he bolted back to the team. A small smile grew on her lips as she watched the new spring in Josh‘s step. For a moment there was comfortable silence between them, their shoulders and legs brushing slightly as they watched the team huddled together. Lara and her husband weren‘t there, Tom, their son had caught the flu and was now sick, she was kind of the only mother she actually knew and liked from the team.

„So, any post game traditions?“ Jack asked while they watched the kids scattering over the field, taking their positions to start the game. A snort left her lips as she glanced over at him.

„It‘s only his second game, so no,“ she gave him a small grin as they leaned back slightly.

„What about I take you guys out for some pizza?“ he asked, the tone of his voice was different, it was like there was a subtle question behind it, like he was trying to figure out how far she would let him in.

„Pizza sounds great!“ she smiled at him, feeling her face heat up again as he gave her a quick smile. „But I am paying!“ she grinned at him.

„Let's argue about that when the time comes,“ he shook his head as the whistle for the start of the game blew.

The game was good, Josh‘s team getting another win, this time her little champ had scored the first goal of the match. She and Jack had cheered loudly and for the first time it felt like she could also cheer unapologetically. The look on Josh‘s face during half time had been unforgettable and would probably be burned in her mind forever, the pure joy of seeing her and Jack and how excitedly he had told them about his thoughts during the first goal.

Now the game was over and she and Josh were packing up his things, changing from his soccer shoes to his regular trainers. Josh was babbling about how cool the move of his teammate had been when he had avoided one of the opponents. Jack was standing beside her, a proud smile on his lips. Josh looked as his hands as she was beginning to collect all their stuff.

„Mommy,“ his voice was so soft that she was barely able to even hear him as she looked up, a smile on her face.

„Yeah sweetheart?“ she smiled at him, he looked nervous, glanced at Jack then back at her.

„Can we take a picture?“ he asked softly, looking at his hands like he was asking for some kind of dangerous thing.

“Of course, sweety,“ she smiled at him, gently ruffling his hair, „Do you want a picture with all of us or just you and Jack?“ she knew that they already had a picture of just him and her, so she just assumed that he wanted a picture with Jack.

„Can we do both?“ he asked, his eyes big as he looked at her with hopeful eyes.

„Of course, darling,“ she looked at Jack who looked like he was preening at the question, a small smile on her lips she ushered Josh towards Jack, who exchanged a few hushed whispers with each other. They posed together, Jack placing his hands on Josh‘s shoulders, a proud smile on his lips, an elated expression on Josh‘s. She smiled as she took the pictures.

“Do you want me to take the other one?“ the voice of the coach came from beside her as he gave her a small smile. He was already in his sixties and such a sweetheart.

„Please!“ she handed him her phone, giving him a thankful smile, quickly she moved up to Jack and Josh who both gave her a smile. Stepping behind Josh she also placed one hand on his shoulder, suddenly she felt an arm wrap itself around her waist, a surprised expression graced her face before she also wrapped her arm around his waist as well, both of them a hand on Josh‘s shoulder. The coach grinned slightly as he took a picture.

„You want your mom and I to pick you up?“ Jack asked Josh, who grinned excitedly and nodded quickly. Together they picked up her son, squeezing him between them, all of them laughing, another picture was taken.

That evening she had sent all of the pictures to Jack. Sitting on the sofa while Josh already slept she stared at the screen, the picture of Jack and her holding Josh stared back at her, that night she decided to change the picture of herself and Josh in her background to this one.

—————-

Sitting on her sofa she glanced over at Josh who was snoring softly between her and Jack, his little body snuggled between them. It was so domestic, so normal at this point that it made her want to cry.

Jack always came for the games, always cheered Josh on, always made sure that their little champion knew how well he was doing. Meanwhile he checked in on her, made sure she was also doing alright, offered her to take a few more days off during the months so that she could relax a little. At some point it became a tradition for Jack to come back to her place after a game and pizzas, they would often watch a movie, Josh usually falling asleep within the first half hour of the movie, though they still finished watching the movie, one of them would put him to bed. It was almost like they really were a family, except that they weren‘t, not like that at least.

The tension between them had heightened. At work sometimes it felt like they were really a couple, Jack bringing her coffee, her always making sure to bring an extra bag of food, knowing that Jack often forgot. During breaks she would ask if he needed anything from the grocery store while Jack offered to watch Josh when he had a night off when she didn‘t.

The end credits played as they continued to stare at the screen, she paused the movie, then turned off the TV.

„Do you wanna put him down?“ she asked, feeling how her arm had fallen asleep from Josh sleeping on it, hit head leaning against her upper arm.

„Yeah,“ Jack‘s voice was hoarse, glancing over at him she felt a pang in her heart, realising that he was crying. She had never really seen him cry before, never seen him that emotional. She didn‘t comment on it though, just gave him time to pick up Josh and carry him towards his bedroom. Quietly she followed him, making sure that Jack didn‘t realise. Stopping in the doorway she saw how Jack tucked in Josh, gently brushing some strands of hair out of his face.

„Huh,“ a shaky sigh escaped his lips, she wanted to say something, but she simply stood there and watched, „Sweet boy,“ his voice was so gentle, as he kneeled beside Josh‘s bed. „You know, I really should have believed you when you first told me I loved your mom,“ a soft laugh came from him. He rested his arm on the mattress of her son‘s bed. „Sleep well,“

She felt her heart hammering in her chest. Her chest tightened as she watched the moment between Jack and her sleeping son. Another sigh came from Jack, she took a small step back as he got up from where he had been kneeling, gently pressing a kiss to her son‘s forehead before he turned around. His eyes went wide as he saw her standing there, carefully she made room for him to walk out the room, closing the door behind him.

„I think I should be going, it‘s later than usual,“ he spoke softly as they faced each other in the hallway. The space felt crammed, with all the unsaid things between them. They surrounded them in this moment more than ever before, weighing them down, in a way pulling them together.

„Don‘t,“ she shook her head, feeling the weight that had been living in her chest since Jack had essentially become Josh‘s father figure. The weight of an unspoken truth neither of them really wanted to face, neither of them really wanted to acknowledge.

The air around them was charged, she reached out, trying to keep her hands from shaking, gently she took his. He intertwined their fingers, carefully pulling her closer to him. His free hand wrapped around her cheek, his thumb caressing her it. Moving closer he pressed his lips to hers, it felt like a current went through her body. Their lips moved against each other, wrapping her free arm around his neck she tried to pull him in even closer, to close the distance between them completely. There was a certain urgency in the kiss, they let go of each other‘s hands, his other hand went towards her waist, she wrapped her other arm around his neck as well. As they pulled away he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths intermingling.

His other hand had found her waist now, holding her close to him, the heat radiating off of him now even more comforting than when he looked over her shoulder in a trauma bay. She brushed her nose against his, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

„Are you going to tell me why you cried?“ she asked, her voice a bit lighter as she spoke, her arms slowly encircling his waist now. A low groan came from him, then a soft huff.

„I always cry at the end of The Lion King,“ he said, his voice cracking slightly, his hold on her not relenting.

„You gotta be kidding me,“ she laughed as she tilted her head back slightly.

„I‘m not,“ he looked deadly serious, though a small smile was now visible on his features.

„I am definitely going to tell Ellis about that,“ she giggled slightly as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, placing soft kisses there.

„You are definitely not going to do that,“ he leaned his head back, letting out a small hum.

“Maybe, maybe not,“ she giggled softly as she leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of finally being in his arms.

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