Amie

Why Are You Up Here | @poisonofthepaint

a story told through cigarettes and suicidal tendencies. you and jack spend the time trying to talk each other down from the roof, until the fourth of july, when neither of you can get up there. 

handwritten notes | @pope-codys

you and the kids write notes for jack when he has to work on christmas eve

My Body’s Keeping Score | @/pope-codys

after a particularly hard case, you and dr. abbot end up on the roof and learn you have a lot more in common then you thought

Abbot² | @d3ad-aliv3

Imagine | @scarletttries

Imagine getting caught under the mistletoe with Jack Abbot. 

Don’t Look At Me Like That | @starkenobi

Your Med School Ex, Part 2  | @butyoudidthis4what

Jack gets jealous when your med school ex shows up and spends the day shadowing you.

Flustered | @/butyoudidthis4what

When Jack has to reschedule your first date again you can't help but think he's changed his mind.

driven by fear | @suuuupernovaaa

Jack hasn’t even told anyone he’s seeing someone, so imagine their shock when you come in, bloodied nearly head to toe, and Doctor Abbot is suddenly losing his mind.

Sirius | @bluesofapollo

you're just trying to survive getting through school by doing an unorthodox job that allows you to meet an older doctor, Dr. Abbot who treats you. And your paths keep crossing.

Bittersweet | @prettyyoungandbored

After the events of Pittfest, Jack comes home thankful his wife is safe and sound.

Jack and Gizmo | @/prettyyoungandbored

Some quick stories about how Jack befriended Gizmo, his eventual wife’s beloved cat.

Knight in an Evening Gown | @/prettyyoungandbored

Wife Guy | @/prettyyoungandbored

I gave it to her | @zivistardust

When a girls night out goes to shit and Jacks wife ends up at the Pitt, she thinks she can hide it from him. Silly girl. 

Jack Abbot with a yapper girlfriend | @/zivistardust

FROM THE START | @fromsil

ending up at the pittsburgh trauma medical center should have been a delight—so many familiar faces and some of the best doctors you knew. but it was also the very hospital where your ex-husband worked. as you waited for results, time passed getting you closer to the night shift. the dread of seeing him pulled you down memory lane, and every step felt heavier than the last.

EMERGENCY MEETINGS | @/fromsil

trips to the emergency room landed you in the path of none other than doctor jack abbot, and maybe it was just fate trying to push things along a little.

Hide and Seek | @ababeofclass

you vs knife, knife won. jack is less than thrilled when he finds you hiding in his er.

did you cut your hair? | @carmenlikeme

That’s your wife? | @booksandteaandtears

the new ER personnel does not yet know who Jack is married to. You're a pretty scary ortho attending that seems to always be fighting with Jack

Masterlist | @glamorizethechaos

jack's prosthetic | @/glamorizethechaos

“Night shift baby”, part 02, part 03 | @freakingholland

Dr. Abbot visits Y/N, his beloved rad tech and a fellow night shift-er. Night shifts aren’t so bad when you have the right company.

Having a daughter with Jack Abbot | @youvebeenlivingfictional

u have to try the breakroom donuts | @urrockstar-xo

When nightshift attending Jack Abbot is the usual subject to your late night flirtation, he’s only a little thrown off when two younger opponents enter the ring, or, well the pitt.

Imagine | @criminalamnesia

Same Circus, Same Clowns | @ragingbookdragon

a ring | @bitters-n-sweets

You found an old ring in Jack’s drawer.

ask me again | @/bitters-n-sweets

When Jack casually asks you to marry him, it sparks a conversation that you both haven’t had.

too sweet | @pencil-n-pen

being in and out of the hospital all the time has never been an enjoyable experience. But after meeting a certain ED doctor who you can't seem to get away from, things just might start looking up.

Shy | @thatfanficstuff

To Be Seen | @/thatfanficstuff

Gifting Goblins | @/thatfanficstuff

Too Much, part 2, part 3 | @/thatfanficstuff

Diagnosis: Married?, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 | @s-writing-s

One glitchy tablet, one HR email, and suddenly you’re married to your attending, Jack Abbot. HR thinks it was intentional and has already started merging your records. Claim it was a mistake, and your residency could be delayed. With only three months left until you’re an attending, Jack agrees to play along. Pretending to be married might save your career—but can your heart survive the side effects?

Secrets, part 2, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9  | @promotional-dvd

You’re Jacks favourite resident, but you could be more you think, if it weren’t for the secrets you are both keeping. Jack Abbot x Single Mom!Resident!Reader

Mourning His Curls | @richeeduvie

on and off | @/richeeduvie

Jack’s Prosthetic | @/richeeduvie

loose cannon and gunpowder | @inkdippedquills

He hated you. He hated your job. But also he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was deeply inconvenient.

i dodged a mullet | @/inkdippedquills

Sometimes your past comes back to haunt you in ways that give your coworkers and crush far too much comedy material. If only the ambulance would be kind enough to run you over.

it is what it could be | @/inkdippedquills

The past never goes away, but maybe there’s a place to find steady ground.

Scar tissue | @inlovewithquestionablecharacters

Cigarettes and feelings | @/inlovewithquestionablecharacters

Jack Abbot x Vet!Reader | @nineteenninety-six

Jack Abbot x wife nurse!reader | @/nineteenninety-six

jack abbot x dana’s daughter!reader | @loves-alibi

What He Didn’t Push Through | @fanficwritinggirl

bluey & banana bag | @maoricth

you’re pregnant again and you’re not exactly thriving. jack is trying to help you but at the same time not be bossy. you’re deflecting and acting like everything’s fine.

romance is dead | @popesgloves

five signs that you might be in love with jack abbot (you’re not. right?)

Baby fever with Jack | @burgundysnow

toy box masterlist COMPLETED |  @drjohncarters

handling your marriage with a really great doctor, and a really bad husband.

Baby it’s cold outside | @titus-danforth

locked in the hospital with Jack Abbot after a snowstorm- but he always makes it worthwhile.

Knowing Me, Knowing You | @traumaone

You and Jack are in an unlabled relationship of unknown seriousness, so unknown you didn't even know he had a second job.

Celebrate Me Home | @thecursivej

Three holiday seasons your path crosses with Dr. Jack Abbot, and the one where your paths converge.

Remember Me, part two, part three, Part Four, Part Five | @at-this-point-i-dont-even-know

Quiet |  @butyoudidthis4what

Widower Jack and widowed single mom Reader meet in the Pitt when Reader's baby gets sick. What follows is healing, patience and becoming ready.

A nice bonus. | @/butyoudidthis4what

Jack sees you get hit by a car and becomes your doctor and more.

Unspoken Conversations | @marvelous-slut

The Ring | @/marvelous-slut

Unexpected Touch |  @marvelouslytrekking

Jack lost faith in the universe when he lost his soulmate mark when he lost his leg. The universe may still have some tricks up its sleeve

night shift | @lilyswritings

you and jack break up over hurt feelings and misunderstandings, and when samira joins the night shift, your relief turns into jealousy as you start to believe he’s moving on — unaware that all he wants is to get you back

gets me going. |  @somanyideassolittletime

jack desperately needs your help in dismissing a flirty student from him.

THE PITT

Across The Hall | Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Teacher/Neighbor Reader [12 part series completed]

Still | Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Ex ! Reader [on going series]

Affinity | Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader (formerly called Eyes On Me) [on going series]

Slice of Life | Jack Abbott x Best Friend’s Sister!Reader

ANIMAL KINGDOM

Love You Anyway | Andrew Cody x Brothers Best Friend ! Reader

Constant as Scars | Andrew “Pope” Cody x High School Friend/Paramedic ! reader

SUPERMAN (2025)

Only You | Clark Kent / Superman x Best Friend ! Reader

Robby nods through his own coffee, which singes the tip of his tongue and stings going down just the same.

“Okay…” he lilts and clears his throat as he sets his coffee cup on the desk next to your untouched one. “Then do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me lately?”

He drags his glasses from the pocket of his dark scrubs and slides the black rims over his eyes in one fell swoop, pretending to examine your empty chart just to be closer to you. Your heart lurches into your throat when you feel his crossed arms rubbing against your back. Your skin crawls in annoyance a second later, when his warm breath fans across the exposed skin of your neck.

It’s a tug of war your body has been battling for weeks — you love everything and nothing all at once. It’s driving you as crazy as it’s probably been making the man behind you.

“I live with you, Robinavitch,” you murmur lowly, fingers click-clacking on the clunky keyboard as you type on borderline autopilot. “I couldn’t avoid you if I wanted to.”

“Well, that just makes it sound like you want to avoid me,” he scoffs.

“If I wanted to, I wouldn’t be letting you breathe down my neck right now, would I?”

Robby laughs, a sharp exhale through his broad nose. You can hear the smile in his voice as he quips, “Well, now I’m gonna stand closer just to piss you off.”

Dana watches from the other end of the circular work station, peering at the two of you over the top of her clear glasses and shaking her head to herself. Because, sure, you work with some of the smartest people the world has ever seen, but she’s the only one perceptive enough to see how lovesick the two of you are.

(It took her less than a month to find out the two of you were dating, after your return from a less-than-subtle shared week off, with your scrubs smelling less of your perfume and more of Robby’s expensive laundry detergent).

“And they say romance is dead…” the woman lilts in a gritty deadpan.

Robby laughs under his breath in response.

The distant frown on your face never wavers.

The sight finds Robby like a knife to the chest.

His brows pinch as his brown eyes squint behind his glasses. “What is with you?” he hears himself ask, a little more blunt than he intended to be. “You’ve been acting weird for days now. It’s like ever since—”

“Dr. Robby?” a familiar voice calls from the otherside of the bustling work station.

Your heads whip over your shoulders in tandem to where Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi stands at the edge of the hall. Her plush lips curl into a smile as she smooths a rogue curl back behind her ear, with the hand not clutching her tablet. The polite grin sparkles in her eyes, so brown they’re almost black against the soft canvas of her olive skin.

As if it weren’t already abundantly clear that the universe despises you, the unmerciful gods have sent the most beautiful woman on this side of Pennsylvia into the Pitt. She was older than you and far smarter than she probably realizes. The combination of her being both closer to Robby’s age and intellect has given you a complex you’re too ashamed to admit to.

“Are you busy?” she asks, dark eyes flitting between the two of you. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

Robby opens his mouth to speak, to turn her down.

You answer for him.

“No, we were just wrapping up, actually,” you tell her, plastering an artificial smile on your lips that makes Robby’s brows furrow when your dull eyes dart back to his. “Right, Dr. Robinavitch?”

He takes the hint in stride and your distant rejection on the chin.

“Uh, right…” he drawls, nodding slowly and parting from you with a huff. “What do you need, Dr. Al?”

“Well, I think there are still a few things we need to go over before we…”

Their voices disappear as they walk down the long hallway.

You mourn his warmth when he leaves. Your chest deflates with a wavering breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“So…” Santos lilts as she leans on the desk in front of you, drumming her palms on the surface. She flashes you a smile, but the wide look in her green eyes makes it look more like a grimace. “Dr. Al-Hashimi… Do we… like her?”

You shrug, still typing. “She seems nice. I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. She seems real nice…” Santos lilts in a gritty monotone, then scoffs at the look you give her. “You don’t see how close she is with Dr. Robby? Yeah, she wants a taste of that tall glass of skim milk real bad.”

“Haven’t noticed,” you respond, despite the jealousy burning like rolling lava in the pit of your stomach.

“Ew,” Whitaker blurts from the desk over, pale features screwed in disgust. “Why would you choose the worst type of milk?”

“Because men are the worst type of milk,” Santos answers like it’s obvious.

Whitaker doesn’t exactly understand her meaning, but to be fair, he rarely ever does most days. He just nods with a confused look pinching his face. “Touche…?”

The interaction from earlier that morning weighs on you all day. You can feel it physically, a heavy swirling in your stomach, that rises inevitably into your throat some hours later.

You were in the middle of performing a particularly bloody cricothyrotomy in a busy examination room with all hands on deck when it finally hit you. You were just barely able to ask Langdon to take over before the nausea could strangle you.

With Robby manning the camera shoved several inches down the sedated man’s throat, he was forced to watch you storm out, ripping off your bloody gown and gloves as you went.

“Is she okay?” Dr. Al-Hashimi wondered aloud, passing Langdon the thin blue bougie and helping him ease the instrument into the man’s open mouth.

It took Robby a second too long to realize she was asking him specifically. He blinked hard, clearing the glaze of concern from his eyes, and shook his head. “No idea…”

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Dr. Garcia crooned from the head of the room with a knowing smirk and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes behind her safety glasses. “Kept her up all night, didn’t ya, Robby?”

“Not the time or the place, Garcia.”

“I was just asking if you had her working late,” the woman shrugged with a feigned air of innocence. “That’s all.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were…”

Robby didn’t see you again until the procedure was done. By then, you had already puked up your breakfast and brushed your teeth with the hygiene kit typically reserved for patients. You’d gotten some of your color back, too, from where the sudden wave of nausea had you corpse-like and clammy-skinned.

“You okay?” he’d ask with concern sitting heavily in his dark brown eyes behind the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He peers over the monitor, following your form as you pump hand sanitizer from the dispenser on the wall.

“I’m fine,” you answered instinctively, rubbing your palms together. “It was just… a lot of blood.”

“Never bothered you before.”

“I know. Weird, right?”

Robby opted not to press you on the obvious at the time, just told you to take a break for a while —“if not for you, then for me,” he’d pleaded, and thought you might listen to him for a change.

You’re much too stubborn for any of that, though, and you’ve never been entirely sure what to do with yourself when you aren’t doing something useful with your hands. It’s two of the main reasons he fell in love with you in the first place — and, coincidentally, two of the main reasons you constantly stress him out.

Robby stops suddenly in his tracks, shoes squeaking against the tile, when he passes by the security room window. He sees you through the glass, sticking post-it notes to the wall with Ahmad, the security guard, at your side.

The dry-erase board has since been cleared and labeled: “How come? How long? How many?” with various other specifications scrawled in your neat handwriting to make a makeshift grid.

The man shakes his head despite the soft smile on his face and doubles back for the door.

“You know, when I said ‘take a break,’ I meant an actual break,” he says in lieu of any real greeting. His arms strain against his scrub sleeves when he crosses them over his chest. “I didn’t mean helping these bozos out with their gambling ring.”

“Well, this bozo is about to be $100 richer, Robinavitch,” Ahmad says with a wide grin, flashing him the wad of cash he’s been collecting from miscellaneous bets all day. “Don’t worry— I’ll throw the Pitt a pizza party or something. I’m not totally heartless.”

“Good to know,” Robby nods before his eyes flit back to you.

“I like organizing,” you tell the man, when you feel his gaze boring into the back of your head. You press each of Whitaker’s bets into the proper squares — outage, $40. “I’m good at it. It helps take my mind off… everything…”

You exhale a heavy sigh and smooth the bright blue post-it onto the board.

Robby frowns, though you aren’t looking at him to see it. “Like what—?”

“How’s the grid coming along?” Dr. Al-Hashimi wonders aloud as she saunters into the security room.

Robby notices that you don’t turn your head to answer her question or to otherwise acknowledge her presence. Your shoulder just tense instead, like she’s startled you, or like her being there alone has you holding your breath. To be fair, though, Robby doesn’t turn to look at her either when she walks to stand at his side.

“Why?” Ahmad asks with a teasing grin. “Wanna get on the books?”

“Yeah, actually…” the woman lilts in a pretty voice as her dark eyes scan the slowly building grid before her. Her lips curl into a teasing grin when she finds Robby’s name scrawled along several neon orange sticky notes. “Put me down for… Flooding, four hours, and thirty patients.”

Robby scoffs to himself — it’s an exact copy of his bet, just a bit more dialed up. His eyes follow the woman’s form as she passes Ahmad a creased twenty-dollar bill. He scratches at the gray patch in his beard and jokes, “Well, that sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it, Dr. Al?”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Robby,” she shrugs. “I’ll buy you a drink with my winnings.”

You can hear the quiet smile in her voice, even though you aren’t looking at her to see it. You can practically feel the look she’s giving Robby, too — all doe-eyed and glittering, like she knows some sort of secret she isn’t willing to share just yet.

What you can’t quite figure out, though — and what you’ve struggled to figure out for days now — is how Robby might be looking at her. He’s too secretive. Too stoic. A brick wall in every sense of the word.

His squinted eye expression never wavers, and never truly does when he’s looking at her, but you wonder what he might be thinking behind him. Does she annoy him? Does he like that she annoys him? Is her constant teasing attractive to him the way it used to be with you?

The nauseous feeling returns to your stomach in that instant, along with a distant cramping that makes your heart drop — a ring of dull, red-hot pain you can feel up into your back.

“That is… very presumptuous of you,” Robby responds with an air of indifference that borders on playful.

“Well, I happen to call that confidence,” she retorts with a similar playfulness that’s far more obvious in her pretty voice.

Your mouth parts to gulp for air when the nausea starts to strangle you once more.

“Have you talked to Dana yet?” you hear yourself ask Ahmad, though your voice sounds much further away than that, like it’s coming from someone else entirely. “I haven’t seen her name.”

“Not yet,” the taller man answers, still scribbling down Dr. Al’s bet with a pungent Sharpie you can smell from here. “I meant to catch her in the break room, but it slipped my mind—”

“I’ll go find her,” you blurt before the words have properly left the man’s mouth.

You spin on your heel, fighting back the dizziness and stumbling back a step when you find Robby much closer than anticipated. His dark eyes soften with concern; yours widen like you’re looking at a stranger.

“Excuse me, Dr. Robby,” you murmur, polite and half-strangled, as the cramping sensation swells. You duck your head from the quiet looks of worry all around you and hurry out of the room.

Robby watches you disappear through the window, unsure of whether or not to follow after you. The dilemma glues his feet to the floor.

You don’t want him near you now but, at the same time, you hate him for not coming with you. The contradiction makes you feel like puking.

Your vision goes red. The sight of blood stains your retinas, as though you had been looking at the sun for too long and are blinded with every blink. The deep crimson blotched in your panty liner was too dark and much too heavy to be the normal spotting you’d anticipated. Your mind reels for what might be the cause — the worst case scenario and then some — and you get lost in the spiral for several long minutes, all alone in the narrow stall of the E.R. bathroom.

A knock on the door brings you to life again.

A call of your name makes your heart drop to your cramping stomach.

“Robby?” you call back, rushing to pull up your scrub pants and flush the toilet behind you, despite not having actually used it.

The stall door clicks open and fills the tense quiet of the bathroom. You step out and find the man peeking through a crack in the ajar door, with only a sliver of his face on display. Despite not having the strength to smile, you manage to joke in a strangled voice, “Do you have any idea how creepy you look right now?”

Robby exhales sharply through his nose in place of a laugh. His eyes are still heavy with worry as they follow your form to the sink, where you drench your hands in foamy soap and warm water.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t keel over in here,” he tells you, only partially joking. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I wouldn’t have let you come in today.”

“I’m not sick,” you say, definitive but still a little vague, as you reach for the paper towel dispenser at your side.

“No?” he calls when you turn your back to him. “What are you then?”

Hopefully still pregnant, you think cynically to yourself as you shut off the running faucet and chuck the crumpled paper towel in the bin. Because apparently I can’t even do that right—

“It’s just been a long day, Robby…” you confess with a heavy sigh as you close the distance between you.

“It’s barely noon,” he says.

“I know.”

You don’t look at him as you walk by, knocking gently into his shoulder as you slide past him in the doorway. The chaos of the Pitt finds you immediately — muddled conversation, constant beeping, and three nurses chasing a naked psychiatric patient down the hall. There is a strange comfort in the noise, but there’s a never-ending panic in it, too.

You struggle now to find the balance as you weave through the crowded emergency department with all the effortlessness of someone who’s mastered the sea of chaos. Robby tries to follow you, but loses you first behind a patient in a wheelchair, then another in a gurney headed for the morgue downstairs, and then by—

“Everything okay, Dr. Robby?”

He flinches when Dr. Al-Hashimi appears suddenly at his side, seemingly everywhere all at once — which is probably the exact reason why she’s one of the best attendings to ever touch this floor.

“Jesus…” the man huffs when the fleeting panic passes.

“You think you’d be used to meeting me this way by now,” the older woman jokes with a quiet laugh. Her pretty smile wavers with a flickering look of confusion when Robby’s eyes dart over her shoulder, flitting over the crowd like he’s searching for something within it. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting off all morning.”

Robby chokes back the immediate anger that rises in his throat like bile. He understands why you’ve been dismissing him all day, now that the same suffocating concern he’s been giving you is now being pointed at him.

“Great observation, Dr. Al,” the man quips in a gritty monotone.

He steps to the side to walk past her. She steps back in front of him a second later, always so stubborn in her way. Her doe eyes harden while Robby’s widen in confusion.

“I can’t help out around here if you cut me down with something snarky every time I try to talk to you, Dr. Robinavitch.”

Robby concedes with an exhaled breath through his nose. He nods slowly to himself, raking his calloused palms down the length of his scruffy face. Muffled behind his hands, he says, “You’re right. I apologize—”

“I forgive you,” the woman nods.

“—But you can’t come in the middle of everything and expect to fix it,” Robby continues with a sterner look.

“I can try.”

“But not everybody wants you to,” he says, far kinder to her than he’s been since she got here, despite the harsh truth in his words.

She’s left stewing in them when he walks away from her and after you.

It takes Robby another five minutes to find you. You’re not with Dana at the work station, or with any of your patients, or getting a coffee in the breakroom. He’s almost certain you’ve disappeared entirely until he starts checking empty rooms. He finds you in Central 20, catches the back of your form through a sliver in the drawn curtains.

He raps his knuckles against the glass door, which squeaks quietly when he pushes it ajar. “Yell at me all you want, but I’m coming in,” he says to announce his presence, before stepping past the threshold.

He says it mostly in jest, and with a smile you can hear in his gravelly voice. The distant playfulness ebbs at the sight he finds before him — you, in front of an ultrasound machine, with tears glittering on your face beneath the white-blue fluorescent lights overhead, which you wipe haphazardly away with the back of your hand.

You drop the wand into place at the sound of Robby’s voice, stepping back from the screen as if it had burned you. Your black top falls into place over your stomach a second later.

Whatever was on the screen before has since zapped to black.

Robby’s eyes dart between it and you. A distant panic flashes across his chest. He crosses his arms as if to stifle that feeling, and clears his throat to keep it from strangling him.

“What’s… What’s this?”

You sniffle, blinking wildly at him with wet eyes and dark lashes clumped together with tears. “I… I can explain.”

He nods slowly, feigning an air of composure despite his racing heart. “Please do.”

“I, uh… I took a pregnancy test,” you confess for the first time out loud, voice wavering under the weight of your emotion. “A few weeks ago now, I think—”

“Weeks?” Robby hears himself blurt with his brows raised to his hairline. “Why… Why are you just telling me this now?”

“Because I don’t know how,” you shrug, voice cracking, as you wring your hands into a knot and ramble in a single breath: “You told me you didn’t want kids. We agreed that we didn’t want any— So I thought I’d just get rid of it, you know? So we wouldn’t have to worry about it. But I didn’t want to do that without telling you first, but I… I didn’t know how you’d take it, or the pregnancy, and so I just siked myself out—”

“Breathe,” he tells you, ducking down to meet your watery gaze as he takes slow steps towards you. He can feel the panic radiating off of you like steam.

“I was scared you were gonna leave me either way, and then Dr. Al came—”

The name gives him great pause. “Dr. Al? What does Dr. Al have to do with this?”

“Everything!” you answer, a little louder than you mean to be in your hysteria. “She’s perfect! She’s smart, she’s your age, and she’s not actively carrying your child after we agreed that’s not what we wanted— Don’t laugh!”

Robby hides his smile behind his fist.

“I’m not,” he says, struggling to choke back his laughter. “I’m not, okay? I just— I love the shit outta you, you know that?”

He closes the distance between you in a few short strides. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, swaddling you in his inherent warmth and musky cologne. Your hands wrench in the stiff fabric of his scrubs, like you’re worried he might slip away at any moment. Your tense form deflates with a wavering sigh.

“You don’t hate me?” you wonder, muffled into his shoulder.

Your words make his heart ache.

“I couldn’t,” he tells you.

“I just… I feel so bad…”

“Why?” Robby asks with his lips against your hair, right before he presses a chaste kiss there.

“‘Cause I… I didn’t think I wanted a baby. Like, at all. And then I went to the bathroom, and there was blood, and I thought—” You cut yourself off when your voice breaks. “I thought that maybe I lost it, and it made me realize that I do want it— The baby, I mean. But that scares me even more than not having it, ‘cause I don’t know what that means for us—”

“Doesn’t have to mean anything,” he shrugs. “Doesn’t change a thing— whether you want to keep it or you don’t.”

You jerk back from him, flashing the man a teary-eyed scowl. “Don’t just say that ‘cause you don’t wanna hurt my feelings.”

“I’m not,” he promises through a chuckle you can feel rumbling in his chest. “If you don’t wanna have a baby, we’ll take care of it here. But if you do, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll even sell my motorcycle in solidarity.”

“Oh, thank god—” A teary laugh sputters from your mouth before you can stop it. It feels like it’s the first time he’s seen you smile in days. He leans in to press a kiss to it, but you keep him away with your hands to his chest. “Do you really mean it?”

“About the motorcycle?” he presses.

“About having this baby? With me?”

Robby inhales sharply through his nose, calculating his words because he only knows one thing for sure: “I wanna spend the rest of my whole life with you… I’m in it for the long haul, alright? Whatever that looks like.”

When he ducks down to kiss you again, you let him.

You exhale slowly through your nose and savor the feeling of his beard against your skin and the taste of his mouth, a mixture of coffee and spearmint and something without a name but still achingly familiar. Your fingers wrench in the collar of his scrubs to pull him impossibly closer.

The feeling of him against you is louder than the familiar voice outside.

“20 is open. Why is nobody—”

The door swings open again. The two of you just barely manage to pull away from each other when Dr. Al-Hashimi peeks in. She stills suddenly in the threshold, wide eyes darting between the two of you. She gains her bearings in a flicker of a second and calls over her shoulder as she shuts the door behind her.

“Never mind. It’s taken…”

You and Robby hold your breaths until she’s gone.

“Do you think she’ll…?”

“No,” Robby shakes his head. “She won’t tell anybody.”

Your lips curl into a quiet, crooked grin that glimmers mostly in your wet eyes. “Well, I was actually going to ask if she’ll finally stop flirting with you now, but… Good to know.”

“She’s not flirting with me,” Robby scoffs.

“She literally asked you out for drinks earlier. She couldn’t be less subtle if she tried—”

He tilts his scruffy cheek to his shoulder, dark eyes squinting in time with the quiet smile that pulls slowly at his mouth. “You get real pretty when you’re jealous. You know that?”

“Well, I’m about to get real damn adorable, Robinavitch—”

You survive the rest of your shift, but only barely.

It pains you to turn down beers with your coworkers after the fact, but you feel the exhaustion of the day down into your bones, and you opt to save yourself the embarrassment of having to come up with a lie about why you’re not drinking with the rest of them.

Robby hangs around for a bit, just to make it a little less obvious. He sips at his can of beer just long enough for you to walk out of sight before following behind you, where you wait for him at the bus stop around the corner. You make the trek to your shared home together like you do every day, and nobody’s the wiser.

The rest of them are left betting on how long it’ll take for you and Robby to finally start dating while you’re getting ready for bed alongside each other.

“Did you hear me?” the man calls over the drumming shower faucet behind you.

“Mhm,” you hum through the toothbrush in your mouth. “Something about… moving something?”

Your freshly washed hair dampens the collar of your oversized t-shirt, borrowed from Robby’s side of the closet, when you bend over to spit toothpaste into the sink.

“Moving out,” Robby corrects.

“Why would we do that?” you ask, and then, muffled through the toothbrush, say, “We’ll just turn the guest room into a nursery, and then we’ll be set. It’s easy.”

“You say that now, but I know you,” he says with such conviction that it makes you roll your eyes. Without looking at you from behind the opaque shower curtain, he continues, “And don’t roll your eyes at me, either. This baby is gonna be here before we know it, and by then, you’ll wanna get out of here and move somewhere more permanent—”

The hissing shower faucet turns off to a slow, steady drip. Robby reaches blindly for his towel, wiping it down the length of his face before wrapping the fluffy white nettle around his waist. The curtain opens with a faint swishing sound.

Your eyes remain locked on his form through the steamy bathroom mirror as he steps out onto the plush bath mat — pale skin flushed, dark hair wild on his head, scruffy chest dripping, pudgy stomach hanging over the towel.

“And, trust me, honey. The last thing you’re gonna wanna do while you’re nine-months pregnant is move,” Robby continues, meeting your glassy gaze in the mirror. “Or much less with a newborn. Could you imagine?”

You forget to respond for a long beat, with your toothbrush still caught in your mouth, softly jutting out your cheek

Robby’s brows pinch at the glassy-eyed look on your face. His lips quirk into a soft smile behind his glittering beard. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Mhm…”

“Yeah?” Robby grins wider as he closes the distance between you, bare feet padding on the tile. Warmth radiates from his freshly washed skin, which smells distinctively of sweet musky bodywash. You lean further into him, letting his towering body dampen the back of your t-shirt.

He presses his nose to your hair and leaves a chaste kiss to your temple before he mumbles there, “What’d I say then, huh?”

“You said that…” You drag the toothbrush from your mouth, talking through the spit on your tongue and the foam on the corner of your lips. “…My pregnant girlfriend is really hot and super turned on right now, so I should probably take care of that for her before the moment passes and she hates everything again.”

You feel Robby’s chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, close enough—”

He ducks down to press a longer, wetter kiss to your neck. You giggle quietly when his beard brushes the delicate skin there, shrugging him off with your shoulder as you bend softly at the waist to spit toothpaste in the sink. Robby keeps you at that angle with a wide hand smoothed over your shoulder.

“Oh, we’re doing this here?” you lilt, rinsing off your toothbrush and dropping it back into the cup beside the faucet.

“Well, I’m nothing if not proactive, honey…”

You wipe your mouth off with the hand towel beside the sink and rest your elbows on the counter’s edge. You have only a partial view of Robby’s body in the steamy mirror from this angle — a sliver of his soft stomach, the expanse of his scruffy chest, and the attentive gaze he points at his free hand that trails down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

Your breath catches when his pointer and middle finger run over the most sensitive part of you through the thin cotton of your underwear — from your drooling cunt to the top of your throbbing clit. He presses the pads of his fingertips there, and your exhale leaves in a quiet whimper as you hang your head on your crossed arms.

“Look how sensitive you are already…” Robby hums, almost sympathetically so, as he rubs his fingertips up and down the length of your clothed pussy. “I bet I’ll slip right in… What do you think?”

You nod slowly, wordlessly.

Robby grins to himself at the sight of you, already half-gone, and he’s barely even touched you.

He hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties, dragging them to the side to put your glimmering cunt on display for him. His middle finger slots effortlessly between your folds, slippery like silk under his touch. It slides within your velvety walls with little effort as your cunt clenches around him, subconsciously suckling him further inside.

Another whine sounds in the back of your throat despite yourself as the stress of the day ebbs from your body. Robby can feel it under the palm he keeps curled around your shoulder. He knows you’ll cum for him any second now with how sensitive you’ve gone, but he doesn’t say that out loud. He just keeps searching for your sweet spot as your honey leaks into his palm.

“You shouldn’t have let yourself get all pent up like this, baby…” he mutters in a low voice, slipping in his pointerfinger beside his middle with a similar ease. “Should’ve let me take care of you.”

“I’m sorry,” you hear yourself say — apologizing not just for now, but for earlier that day, and for all the days before when you refused to be open with him.

“Don’t be sorry,” Robby coos in a gravelly voice, too sweet for the sinful words that follow. “Just cum for me.”

You mourn his grounding touch when his hand leaves your shoulder. The protesting whine gets caught in your throat a second later when he curls his left arm around your waist and presses his fingers to your clit again, rubbing mercilessly at the sensitive button.

His touch is unrelenting. A honeyed pleasure starts to bloom within you almost instantly. A coil in the pit of your stomach threatens to snap, wound tight from a week or more of not being touched.

“Please fuck me,” you hear yourself beg through panted breaths as you lift your heavy head to meet Robby’s gaze in the mirror. Your eyes glaze over with pleasure. Your thighs start to tremble around his hand. You whine again, “Please fuck me…”

“This isn’t the only time you’re gonna cum tonight,” Robby promises you, warns you. “So just go ahead and cum for me. I got you.”

Your head drops back onto your arms again. Your hips buck against his fingers, chasing the pleasure and running from it all at once. You rise to the tips of your toes when the buzzing pleasure crescendos. Your body tenses, trembles, then releases when the orgasm finally hits you. You cage your bottom lip between your teeth when your leaking pussy flutters around Robby’s fingers.

“There you go…” you hear him praise through the heartbeat in your ears. “C’mon. Give it to me. I want all of it. C’mon…”

His fingers never let up, even after the high has come and gone and left nothing more than tremoring aftershocks in his wake.

Your blissful moans turn into strangled whines as the sensitivity increases — a pleasure you crave, but a pleasure that terrifies you nonetheless.

“It’s okay,” Robby rambles in a gentle coo. “I got you— It’s okay. Just give me one more. I got you.”

You whimper when his fingers drag out of your cunt. You’re left clenching around nothing when he hooks his right arm loosely around your neck, dragging you up against his scruffy chest, still damp from the shower.

Your head tips back against his shoulder as your hands curl around his biceps. You watch through lidded eyes in the foggy mirror as Robby sticks his middle and forefinger into his mouth, licking your honey from his skin and sighing at the familiar taste of you. You whine at the sinful sight, and at the man’s fingers on your clit that refuse to slow down.

Your right hand slips from his arm and reaches blindly behind you, slipping in between your bodies. The towel unknots and pools around Robby’s barefeet when your hand wraps around his stiff cock. He’s softer than velvet in your fist, and leaking pearls of precum that your thumb swipes over.

A groan sounds deep in Robby’s throat. A dazed grin tugs at your mouth.

“Cum for me,” you tell him through labored breaths.

“You first,” Robby huffs, then commands. “Put your leg up.”

You bend your knee and rest your foot on the shelf below the counter, opening yourself up for him. You sigh a low moan. Robby exhales through his nose in place of a laugh.

“You’re close again, aren’t you?” the man pants in a gruff voice, gritting his teeth through the distant stinging in his wrist — ‘cause he’d sooner lose the feeling in his hand than stop now. He smiles lazily when you nod against his shoulder, digging crescent shapes into his bicep with the hand not massaging his twitching cock.

“Hold it.”

Your breath catches at his command. It makes the warmth in the pit of your stomach swell all at once. Your body tenses instinctively to hold it off.

“Wait for me,” Robby says, breath fanning against your cheek. “I’m almost there— Fuck.”

You turn your head, and he catches your mouth with his own. He kisses you like he’s trying to swallow you whole, licks into your parted lips like he’s tasting you for the very first time. His tongue feels like velvet as it ruts against yours — you can feel every grunt that rumbles in his throat as his orgasm nears; he can feel each of your whimpers as your second one sends shockwaves down your spine.

Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, collecting the drools of precum there, and using that as lubricant to jerk the rest of him in your fist. Robby exhales a low grunt just before he parts from you with a quiet smack.

“Cum,” he pants, eyes heavy and lips kissed. “Right now. Cum right now. Shit.”

You cum for him again, not as quick or as powerful as the one before, but still enough to bring you to your knees if it weren’t for Robby’s strong arm keeping you to his chest. You whine as the coil in your stomach unknots itself, and as Robby’s twitching cock spits warm cum along the top of your fist.

He ducks down to bury his face in your neck, nipping at the burning skin while he groans through the waves of his own orgasm. You bury your nose in his damp hair as your high comes and goes, inhaling the sweet musk of shampoo in his silky brown locks.

There’s a lazy smile hinting at the edges of your mouth when Robby catches your eye in the mirror.

You hold his gaze when you release his softening cock, flashing him the glittering pearls of milky cum on your skin as you bring your hand to your mouth. Your pink tongue darts out to lick the salty tang away. Robby exhales a rumbling groan against you at the sight.

“Just give me a second…” he says through labored breaths. “And I’ll fuck you like you want…”

“Nah, you’re down for the count, Robinavitch,” you quip with a smile, parting from him for the first time in several minutes to flip the faucet back on to wash your hands. “You’ll be asleep before you can get it up again.”

“Hey,” he scolds, feigning offense, as he reaches for the discarded towel on the floor.

“It’s okay,” you shrug with a knowing glint in your eye. “It was a long day.”

“Well, if you weren’t so greedy, I’d have you face down in the bed right now,” he says, only partially playful, as he tucks his towel into place around his hips.

“Ooh. That sounds fun,” you lilt, flicking water from your fingertips before you turn the sink off again. “Raincheck?”

“Raincheck?” Robby scoffs in amusement. “Get your ass in that bedroom.”

The act of dominance makes your chest flare with a warm feeling. You smile all giddy as you walk by him. “Think if you fuck me good enough, we’ll have twins?”

Robby laughs at your stupid joke, a sharp breath through his broad nose. “I guess we’re about to find out…”

There were multiple moments where you were barely a level above horny teenagers, movie forgotten on the t.v. while you made out on the couch, grinding against each other, whimpers leaving your lips. On more than one occasion you’d simply gotten bored, having seen an episode already, starting to palm him through his pants, quickly sinking down to your knees, groaning at the taste of his cock on your tongue. In turn he’d gotten handsy when a a sex scene took over the screen, bringing you to a climax with just his fingers, chuckling at the whimpering as you came before he tossed you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom.

“Yeah? What’s her name?” 

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Nick laughed openly, 

“If she’s got ya this smiley, she’s gotta be good at what she does.” Nick shot him a look, “Hey, it’s not like I’m gettin’ any, need to live vicariously through someone.”

“She’s…somethin’ else that’s for sure.” Amaro started, “I mean…when was the last time you got more than one blowjob in a day?”

“Before I stupidly got married, that’s for sure.” Fin laughed out.

“And I’m talking like, an epic blow job.” He gave a small laugh, appreciating the ability to share the information with someone, being able to brag about you without Fin knowing it was you, “Fuck is she ever incredible. Like, you remember the first time you ever got one, and it was the greatest fucking feeling in the world? It’s like that…every time.”

“You’re a lucky man Amaro.”

“Oh I know it. Best part is she actually loves it, a girl that really likes sucking dick? I mean she was legitimately begging me to fuck her face.” Nick jumped at the sound of a third voice joining into their conversation,

“Last time I checked I was here about sex crimes, not your overshared sex life Amaro.” Casey’s voice rang through the conference room, “You got enough for a warrant yet or not?”

“I..yeah Counsellor…” Nick stumbled slightly, pulling the file off the table, handing it to Novak quickly.

“Thanks.” She flipped through it, satisfied with the evidence, “I’ll get the warrants. And…keep your personal lives away from me, I really don’t need to hear about you getting your dick sucked, ever again.” She was gone literally as fast as she’d appeared, Fin nearly howling in laughter at Amaro’s reaction. He was up for some bro talk, but having Casey over hear it wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped for. Especially considering your history with her.

***

“Oh fuck!” You buried your head into his shoulder, “Nicky, we really shouldn’t be doing this!” He chuckled against the soft skin of your neck, fingers plunging deep into your wetness while his thumb pressed against your clit.

“Awe, but sweetheart the risk makes it more fun, doesn’t it?” You missed the smirk he gave you, your teeth clenching down around the fabric covering his shoulder in an attempt to keep somewhat quiet. 

It was your day off, but you’d been dragged out by the fact that it was someone’s birthday, and the fact that you’d been practically hiding at home recently. It was a mixture of the squad and the lab team, enough people involved that no one would realize you and Nick were missing. The weather had finally began to really warm up, and he could barely help himself when you showed up in an adorable sundress, your usually tied back hair loose around your shoulders. The little curve of your thigh exposed, the swell of your chest heaving with laughter at someone’s ridiculous joke, he’d practically tackled you on your way back from the bathroom, pulling you into a storeroom where he promptly locked the door, laying a bruising kiss against your lips. Your panting increased, he could feel your walls flittering around his fingers, the way your hands clenched against his back, pulling him tighter to you, hips thrusting in rhythm with his hand.

“Be a good girl…I know you wanna cum for me.” The praise sent you over the edge, the muffled moan escaping against his covered skin, body shaking against his, you could feel your clit pulsing, eager for even more as your breathing calmed.

“Jesus Christ Nick.” You muttered, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you looked up at him, groaning in arousal as he sucked the taste of you off his fingers.

“You wanna get out of here?” He quirked a brow before you pulled him into a quick kiss.

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

**

It didn’t take long for you and Amaro to discreetly slip out of the bar unnoticed, it was still early enough you could play off excuses of work, previous plans, anything that they’d believe. Much like any other night, he’d barely gotten you through the doorframe, kicking it shut behind him before you literally jumped on him. Your lips met his feverishly, tongue plunging into his mouth, tasting the beer against his tongue while yours lapped at the taste of him. His hands tugged against your hair, against your skin, tugging the dress over your shoulders before his lips making their way down your neck. You gasped as they hit your pleasure point, a loud moan when his teeth sunk into it, tongue trailing over the bitten skin.

“Nicky please…” You begged, voice airy with want, attempting to pull him to the bed despite the fact that you were still wrapped around his standing form.

“Oh sweetheart I’m gonna let you come, don’t worry.” He smirked for a hot second, letting you drop onto the bed, “Get naked for me.” The forward statement came along with him quickly stripping of his own clothes, dropping them to your bedroom floor as you practically tore off your underwear. He couldn’t help the smirk when you groaned at the sight of his hard cock, moving towards it, “Uh-ah, tonights about you…promise.” 

You barely had a second to react, a giggle escaping your lips as he flipped you on the bed, your head landing among the pillows, a loud gasp escaping your lips as his mouth enveloped your cunt. A hand shot to the sheets, clenching at it while your hips jolted up against Nick’s mouth as he praised how fucking delicious you were, the other hand burying into his hair, unable to want anything but pressing him more into it. A shout left your lips as you felt his fingers plunging into you once again, nearly whimpering at the contact. They curled perfectly, hitting your g-spot right as he gave your clit a heavy suck, teeth nipping around it in the best way they could. Your body shook, a wail leaving your mouth, your juices shooting out of you harder than they ever had, breath panting heavily while Nick crawled up your body.

“Never seen you do that before…” He smirked.

“Never done that before.” You shot back, a grin splayed on your face, pulling him into a deep kiss, your voice airy and needing when you spoke again, “Fuck me hard…please Nick…”

He nearly came at the innocent look in your eyes alone, a deep groan leaving his lips when you flipped over, presenting yourself on your hands and knees, he swore heavily when you tossed your hair over your shoulder, looking back at him “Make me squirt again…” The only time he wasted was tearing the condom open before he plunged into you, swearing at the feeling of your sopping cunt wrapped around him. Barely able to stand the feeling of him dragging against your walls you dropped against the bed, a string of moans and swears leaving your lips. This was by far the loudest sex the two of you had had, noises of skin on skin vibrating off the walls, both of you not afraid to be vocal, the feelings too much, loud moans and yelps leaving your lips. Nick stuttered when his hips met yours in a particularly rough thrust, sending you flying towards the headboard, an elaborate moan of ‘Oh fuck Nicky..’ leaving your mouth. His hand wrapped around your hair, pulling your body flush to him, 

“What..you like it rough baby?” 

“Yes..please..fuck..please…” You were so fucking close, you were so fucking weak you didn’t even care about absolutely begging for it. A gasp left your lips as Nick’s hand crept up your collar bone, sitting at the bottom of your neck for confirmation.

“This okay?”

“Please!” You nearly sobbed, the feeling of his cock dragging against you nearly too much. You thew your head back while his hand closed around your neck, the sensation throwing you way over the edge, body thriving against his. You barely remembered him chasing his own release, just the feeling of him spilling inside the condom, collapsing over you, swearing in satisfaction before he rolled over, disposing of the condom. You laid in silence for longer than a while, catching your breath, coming back to earth before Nick spoke, hand stroking your body softly.

“You okay?”

“Fucking perfect.” You murmured against the pillow before flipping to face him, snuggling against his body, “Though I’m fucking starving.” He laughed at that, kissing your forehead while he reached for his phone.

“What’d’you feel like?”

“Hmmm…” You pondered for a moment, “Could really go for some Pad Thai.”

“Chicken or tofu?” He replied, already knowing your two go to’s.

“Tofu please.” You kissed his bare chest softly, thankful for a ….friend who was able to actually understand you.

**

It didn’t take long for a knock on your door after Nick had ordered the food, you were honestly surprised at how fast they were that night. He’d throw on his boxers, grabbing his wallet while you tugged on his button up, your dress still on the hallway floor. You simply hoped neither of you were too much of a mess for the poor delivery guy, padding your way down the hallway as Nick opened the door. 

“$25, right?” He asked, head down as he opened his wallet, tugging out the cash.

“What the fuck!?”  You jumped at the sound of Casey’s voice, having finally made it in plain view of the doorway, “Y/N you can’t be serious….” She shocked by the sight of Amaro in boxers answering your door, begging that he was simply taking over your guest room for the week, but the sight of you clad in only his dress shirt was more than enough to confirm just exactly what was going on here.

“Casey?! What are you evening doing here?” You shot back, barely able to help the tears slowly leaking their way into your eyes.

“What am I doing here? Check your missed calls! I was worried! I needed you!” 

“Oh please!” You shot back quickly, honestly angered at the entire situation, if Casey was going to treat you like crap you could at least finally stand up for yourself. “You only care about me when it’s convenient to you. You don’t give a shit and I’m more than well aware.”

“So what?! You decide to go off and fuck Nick to distract you?”

“As if you don’t do the exact same thing!?” Your voices were raised, you were thankful Nick managed to keep out of it, not interjecting into the quick argument, “Get the FUCK out of my apartment!”

“So what?! So you can go back to sucking his dick!?” She shot back. You felt the anger and bit of alcohol swirling in you from earlier, words you never thought would leave your mouth slipping through your lips.

“You can stay all you want. But I’ll let him rail me in front of you, then maybe you’ll finally know what a real orgasm looks like!” Nick literally had to hold back the laughter at that one, he knew you’d always been a feisty one, but that, that had some goddamn pain to it, there was no doubt you were a fighter 

“You disgust me.” It was the last thing Casey managed to get out, you slamming the door unbelievably hard in her face, an angry yell leaving your mouth as you collapsed against it, barely able to meet Nick’s eyes.

“I understand if you want to leave…” You murmured, surprised when he moved closer to you, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“Our food’s still on the way, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Nick, I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t…” His lips met yours, moving with ease, “You’re not an idiot. A fool in love maybe…but not an idiot.” You could barely focus at the way his mouth was nipping down your neck.

“Nicky…”

“Yes sweetheart?” He quirked, 

“Fuck me like you hate me?”

“Baby I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember your own name, much less hers.”

“I’m doing good, I just want Bre to be okay and my mom.” Jack said sadly, “Goodnight night Y/N/N” 

“Wait! Jack don’t feel pressured to tell me but was he abusing you too?” 

He hesitated for a moment with anxiety growing in his chest. He looked at you and nodded, “but not how he did Bre.” You nodded allowing him to continue,

“He just verbally and physically did, he was just so mean to me, telling me I’m useless and that mom hates us.”

“Did you tell your mom?” You asked hoping he didn’t have to deal with it on his own.

“No, I couldn’t because she’s just so happy with him and I can take it all so it doesn’t matter and I thought it would keep him away from Bre but it didn’t.” He said almost in a whisper, you had no more words, you didn’t know how to comfort them. You only wanted them to at least know they are safe with you. 

“Jack, I’m not letting anything happen to you or your sister again. I promise.” You pulled him into a hug and he squeezed you tightly. 

“Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll be so mad at me and Aubs please.” He begged through his tears, you rubbed his back harder wishing to take his pain. 

“Hey, he won’t be upset with either of you, you both did nothing wrong.” You pulled him back into the hug, pulled away and cupped his face, “I care so deeply about you little hotchner, and I won’t let anything happen to you or that girl upstairs.” He nodded as you wiped his tears 

You both silently walked up the stairs leaving the conversation at that.

Jack walked through the door to his room and disappeared into the dark. He shut the door, and pulled his hoodie off exposing his bruised stomach and a bandage on his back. They were in final stages of healing but were still noticeable. He hopped in a quick shower and changed the bandage. 

He laid down in his bed listening to the silence of the house, hearing nothing at all attempting to fill the emptiness he felt. He opened and shut his eyes for 30 minutes straight. 

Trying to remember what his uncle Spence told him staying still for 15 minutes straight will help you fall asleep faster. Jack knew he could do it, just 15 minutes, that’s counting to 60 15 times in a row, not long at all. Finally Jack finally fell asleep, after what felt like a few minutes he woke up in a panicked breath. It’s like he was back there all over again he could hear and see it all happening again. 

The night it happened 

Be a sweet little honeycomb and clean this up, Calvin said slamming the door heading to where Jack had just entered. “The hell you looking at little bitch?” He yelled toward Jack plopping down on the sofa 

“Hello to you to fucker” Jack whispered as he headed toward his room shutting the door behind him.

He threw his practice bag on the ground and got some pajamas out to get ready for a shower, walking toward theirconnected Jack & Jill bathroom.

“Aubrey how many times do I have to tell you to keep your bathroom door sh—-“ 

He froze, he couldn’t even move, his sister, his protector half naked laying in her blood with her knees to her chest, visibly shaking. He knew immediately what had happened but couldn’t even believe it. 

“Ja—ck” he ran to her, covering her up, “I’m here Bre, I’m here” she was crying so loud and hard, “I can’t take it anymore, please make it stop” she sobbed louder,

“He did this didn’t he?” She nodded into his chest, “I’m going to fucking kill him.” Before Aubrey could react he was out the room. 

“You BITCH” he hit him upside the head with a bottle of tequila causing it to break. Catching Calvin, who was taller than Jack off guard. The man got up and lunged at the boy. 

“Now you’re tuff huh?” He wiped out a pocket knife and sliced Jack in the back causing him to scream. After Calvin got a few punches in Jacks anger took over. 

He was on top of Calvin beat him to a bloody pulp. “You. Fucking. Rapist. Piece of. Shit.” He didn’t stop until Calvin was unresponsive, on the ground covered in blood. Jack stood up and spit on him walking out the room. 

He returned to his sister who was now in a pair of joggers and a hoodie. “We’re going to Uncle Dereks, now.” The teens had already been packed up, he called Derek first telling him they need a ride to the airport in the morning and it would be easier to just sleep there and a Uber immediately after. 

When the Uber arrived they both walked past a very drunk and bloody Calvin. 

“You can’t run from me Son and neither can you honeycomb.” He smiled with blood stained teeth. 

“Let’s go” Jack said opening the door for his sister, wishing the summer would last forever. 

When he fully awoke from reliving that night, Jack was soaked in his own sweat and tears, “he—lp..” his breathing was erratic he got up in a panic heading to Aubreys room. He walked into his sisters room which wasn’t anything new for the brother and sister.

“Aubrey? I —ne—Ed help “ he said asked as his breathing picked up. Aubrey stirred until her eyesight cleared and she seen her little brother in need. 

“J? Jack just try to breathe, okay? Just mimic me.” she rubbed his back and sad on the floor with his.

“In and out, we’re at dads house, in my room, he’s not here I promise.” Since that day in California, Jacks been having really bad night terrors to the point he can’t breathe, see, or even talk, he never told her what the nightmares were about but she had an idea. 

“Just keep breathing and hold my hands.” Bre sat patiently waiting as his breathing evened out, 

“Jack?” She asked rubbing his knee, Jack was still and staring at the wall in front of them. With lone tears falling, he nodded his head no signaling he wasn’t ready to talk just yet, “I’ll wait for you.” she said calmly to her baby brother.

Jack stared off with tears falling, Jacks strength through this hadn’t gone unnoticed. Aubrey noticed how much he tried to do for her. Trying to make sure she doesn’t have to do chores or constantly making sure she was okay throughout the day. He wanted to protect his sister from everything.

“All those times I was with him for hours when we were bonding were torture. He called me names, pushed me, pinched me. I should’ve told you about it sooner maybe I could’ve stopped all this from happening”

“No, don’t blame yourself, it’s his fucking fault.” She looked her brother in the eye refusing to let him Blake his self.

“He fucking sliced me with a knife Aubrey, I could’ve killed him, I’m a horrible person.” He cried harder and louder, “No J, you beat him and saved me and you, you’re a hero, my hero” he nodded his head and leaned into his big sister.

“I thought he cared about us.” He broke down into loud cries,

“I know, I did too, he’s good at pretending, I fucking hate him now” she hugged her brother. After he calmed down she guided him to her bed, he climbed in and slowly fell asleep, she pulled her blanket over him and sat his phone on the charger. She took a deep breathe hoping that they would get through this.