Jack Abbot wasn't a strict dad by any means — After losing his leg; after losing his wife, it felt unfair to beg for anything more than for his daughter to be happy, healthy, and — most importantly — safe. Her safety was the one non-negotiable that he had set in place when raising her. She had driven to a party and drank anyway? She called him and he would pick her up, no lecture given. She felt unsafe at any given point, no matter because of who or what? She told him or a trusted adult (the list was short of the adults he trusted — Robby, Dana, Shen and Ellis) and they would take care of it.

"Hey, Grumpy! Haven't seen the kid around in a few? Where's Tiny?" Parker Ellis grinned as she slid up next to Jack at the nurses station, head tilting at him as she saw the way he just starred intensely at his phone.

Hey, you OK? was the message starring back at him menacingly, the timestamp next to it reading two hours earlier. He blinked blearily at the tiny Send beneath it, willing it to change into a Seen.

"Abbot?" Ellis called out again, her grin slowly melting into a concerned frown.

Jack's head snapped up, dropping the hand holding the phone "Hm? Oh, uh, she had exams this week. 's out with her friends tonight to celebrate their newfound freedom."

"Oh— I see how it is!" Ellis hummed thoughtfully, the grin reappearing, "Grumpy Abbot has a hard time letting go."

Jack shook his head ever so slightly "It isn't like that."

It really wasn't like that. Jack trusted his daughter — more than anyone, probably. He had raised her — all on his own ever since she was a three years old toddler that threw tantrums when served broccoli for dinner and asked When is mommy coming home? while dangling her legs from a swing — and he knew he had given her every single ressource to make smart decisions and to know that, even if she had a crashout (whatever that meant; Jack had long given up trying to understand the way she spoke) he was there to pick it up, piece by piece.

In simple terms; he had raised her to be his best friend.

Jack didn't trust anyone else — Not with his daughter. Certainly not with his daughter.

His fingers moved swiftly over the screen again, Ellis' laughter barely audible over the ringing in his ears. Call me when you get this please. Love you. He send the text, mentally chastising himself for opting out of sharing locations with her in fear of coming off to overbearing.

The doors to the pitt slid open, a trauma being wheeled in fast and steady, effectively pulling Jack back into the chaos of the ER and — after the brief panic that it could be her had subsided — he was by the gurney, sharp and focused, the worry over his daughter only a distant pain in his chest.

The trauma took a lot longer than Jack had thought — MVA, three victims; a family. The daughter, only six years, had died after Jack spend 47 minutes perched over her chest, doing chest compressions until the sweat dripped down his forehead and now he was sprawled out in a chair at the nurses station, too exhausted to even think about making the way up to the roof.

"That was a rough one." Shen sighed, leaning up against the hub across from Jack, hands fiddling with the straw in his Dunkin Donuts cup.

"The child ones always are. Always makes you wonder..." Lena trailed off with a frown, noticing the tight set of Jack's jaw. Everyone at the PTMC knew about Jack Abbot's daughter — Tiny Abbot as Shen and Ellis always proclaimed so lovingly when she once again spend one of Jack's night shifts, huddled up in a seat next to Lena, head stuck in a book. By now they had also all noticed, that Jack seemed to be on edge that night, hands and eyes trained to react at the slight buzz of his phone. 
Shen furrowed his eyesbrows, mulling over whether it was safe to ask or if Jack would rip his head off for just as much as suggesting that something was amiss when the ringtone Jack had specifically set for his daughter made his body jerk into action.

"Kiddo, hey!" Jack breathed, all the air escaping him in one as he registered her name in bold letters on his screen. The relief was short-lived, however, when the line crackled; a tiny whimper cutting through the jumbling noise.

"Dad? Dad, I— I'm sorry. My friends— They left me. I'm drunk, I don't know— They kept saying I should loosen up and I should drink more and then they just left me! I'm scared, I—"

The sirens in Jack's head were blaring two times over as he listened to his daughter's babbling and blubbering "Hey, baby. Baby, it's okay—" he cooed, jumping up to his feet against the strain it put on his prosthesis. "Yeah, it's okay. I'm at work but send me your location, okay?" he turned over, eyes wide with a panic that was entirely unusual for the always so stoic doctor "Lena, call Robby. Kiddo's in trouble, I need him to pick her up."

Lena nodded, hands already grabbing for the red phone — hospital emergencies only policy be damned. Tiny Abbot was one of PTMC's own; a staple in the dysfunctional family that was the night shift and, most importantly, the one thing to bring Jack Abbot from the dark every single time.

"Dad, I'm sorry." Tiny sniffled and she sounded so sad Jack had a hard time not ditching work to pick her up himself. His head spun to string together the worst images it could muster — The idea of his daughter sitting on a curb somewhere far out of his reach, only a dim street lamp as company as she tried to keep herself warm (She never took a jacket with her; no matter how much Jack nagged).

He let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a sigh, scrubbing his free hand over his face to get rid of the haunting images "You've got absolutely nothing to apologize for. You hear me, kiddo? Nothing." he soothed desperately, shooting a look at Lena "Send me your location and I'll have Robby pick you up and bring you here, okay?" he added after Lena gave him a nod and a brief thumbs up.

53 minutes — That's how long it took from the moment his daughter had hung up the phone to call Robby ("uncwe Wobby" as she used to call him all those years ago) to the doors of the ER sliding open to reveal a worried-looking Robby — an usual sight; dressed in sweatpants and a faded band tee — arm wrapped around Jack's daugher. She looked even more sad than she had sounded; Robby had brought her one of his hoodies and a pair of one of her sweatpants that were always flying around at his place to change into in the car and, mixed with the smudged make-up Jack had watched her put on mere hours ago, she looked like a lost little lamb brought to the slaughter.

"Tiny Abbot..." Shen frowned, as he appeared next to them, holding out a fresh Dunkin Donuts' iced coffee "Grumpy Abbot told us what happened so I immediately got your favorite. Donuts are in the break room."

"Thank you, Johnnie." she sniffled, giving him a watery smile, that had Shen's frown deepening, as she took the cup tentatively "Where's dad?"

Shen grimaced "Still with a patient, kiddo. He should be out soon— C'mon let's get you seated. You need something?"

She shook her head, letting Robby and Shen guide her over to a chair at the safety of the nurses station. All she wanted was a hug from her dad — letting him wrap her up in his arms and keeping her safe from all the bad things like he did when she had a nightmare as a kid.

It took seven minutes — seven agonising minutes for Jack, who'd been told that his daughter had arrived safely — for him to finally dismiss himself from the room; eyes seeking out his daughter's form immediately.

She was still sitting at the hub, legs pulled up to her chest with Robby keeping watch over her from his place leaned up against hub across from her. Her eyes were cast down to her fingers fiddling with the straw from her iced coffee but as soon as she recognised the sound of his uneven gait her head was flying up, relief melting her body into a slumped form as she found his gaze.

"Hey, kiddo." he breathed out, pulling her up to her feet and crushing her against his chest with no hesitation "Are you okay?" he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her head.

She hummed, nodding against his scrub top "'m okay, just... sad, I guess." she shrugged. Jack nodded wordlessly — He had had his suspicions about her friends for a while now; they always seemed nice enough during the few moments they spend at their place. Every now and then, however, Jack heard the quiet comments — He heard the insults, cowardly slipped into a passing comment over a snack at their dinner table, saw the glances and smirks shared when his daughter wasn't looked but he'd kept quiet about it; had smiled at his daughter when she came home all giddy and giggly and had told her how happy he was that she did have finally found friends, after all.

Now he loathed himself for never saying anything.

He pressed another kiss to her head, one heavy hand moving towards her back to trace absentminded circles. Jack had always been good at fixing injuries or sickness — He knew what to do when she fell and scraped her knee and he knew how to take care of her when the flu once again caught up to her, but he always struggled with the emotional side of parenting. Years and years of therapy had helped; he was better at being emotionally present now, the words of comfort came easier to him now, but — every now and then; just like now — he had a hard time figuring out what to say.

"Are you good to go home?" he asked instead as he pulled back, eyebrows furrowed together in almost paralysing worry "Robby's gonna drive you and stay with you until shift change."

"Okay, okay..." she muttered quietly, rubbing her eyes with a muffled sniffle, before bringing herself back against her dad's chest; head flush against his broad chest "'m sorry, dad."

She didn't know what she was apologising for — For worrying him? For drinking? For losing friends? Again? Surely, he didn't think it was cute for his sixteen years old to say that her dad was her best friend.

Jack shook his head vehemently, shifting his stance so she could lean all her weight on him without his prosthesis hurting "Kiddo. You are not at fault here — Absolutely not; in no way. People who do that? Who guilt-trip you into getting drunk and then abandoning you? These people are not your friends and they never were."

His daughter cried something in his chest and it took a beat for Jack to understand that she had said, that she just wanted to belong.

"You belong, baby." Jack spoke firmly, slipping a finger underneath her chin to look into her eyes "You belong with me. You belong in this life. You belong."

She sniffed again, more tears spilling over but yet she nodded, rubbing her head against his chest one last time before taking a final step back. Robby was there immediately, his arm coming up to wrap itself around her shoulder again "Let's get you home, kiddo, hm?"

She nodded tentatively and — after a last hug and a long kiss to her forehead — Jack had to watch his best friend guide his daughter out into the dark night that awaited them outside of the hectic walls of the pitt.

The remaining two hours of his shift dragged on for seemingly forever — All he wanted was to get home to his daughter, maybe stop by the breakfast place they frequented at every Saturday morning and get her one of the cinnamon buns she loved, and put on her favorite movie in the living room where he could keep an eye on her.

Jack Abbot may not be a man of emotional loaded words, but, what he was was a man of actions.

By the time he finally stepped into the townhouse he and his daughter had been living in for the past fifteen years the sun had long risen behind the horizon "Kiddo? I'm home." he called out softly as he closed the front door with one hand, the other one clutching a bakery bag, the sweet smell of cinnamon following him.

Jack had spend the last two hours berating himself for never saying anything — He'd spend ten minutes in between patients, doing the breathing exercises his therapist always spoke off and Lena still called him out for looking brooding — and the cinnamon buns felt like a kind of peace offering now; an apology of sorts for failing her.

"Dad?" a voice breathed. Jack's head whipped around and, for the first time, Jack understood why everyone at the PTMC called her Tiny. His daughter was standing in the doorway to their living room, her favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around bony shoulders and a stuffed rabbit Robby had gotten her when she was younger and refused to go to sleep every time her dad was on night shift clutched to her chest.

She looked like a little kid, all over again.

"Hey, baby." Jack swallowed down every heavy feeling, forcing the corners of his lips into a soft, weary smile as he held up the bag. "I have cinnamon buns."

Her face twitched into something akin to a smile despite the tears brimming hot and heavy behind her waterline. "Robby already helped me move all the blankets and pillows to the sofa."

"Hot chocolate and Princess Diaries?" Jack grinned.

"You always know how to cheer me up, old man."

Jack huffed out a laugh at the old man, dismissing his go-back carelessly by the door as he moved to wrap an arm around her. With a tender kiss to her head he began guiding her towards the sofa, turning off the police scanner while he was at it — He didn't need that today.

Today was all about her.

ABOUT FILMS & SHOWS

Marvel — especially the OG Avengers. Harry Potter (Wolfstar truther). THE PITT!!! Absolutely obsession. Peaky Blinders. Star Wars enjoyer. My Letterboxd Top Four are Dead Poets Society (I got Oh Captain, My Captain tattooed!!), Fantastic Mr Fox, Knives Out and Little Miss Sunshine.

ABOUT MUSIC

THE PITT SERIES

coming soon...

PAINY BY NUMBERS ✷ Trinity Santos.

Maude Sterling was, as charge nurse Dana had so lovingly proclaimed over a cup of hot chocolate (courtesy of Doctor Abbot) one week into Maude's residency at the PTMC, the baby of the pitt — All soft voice, a fond smile and thin limbs weaving through the chaos of the ED. Trinity Santos is the polar opposite to her as spits a sarcastic remark left and right, hands always sharper; always a little meaner. But you know what they say — Polar opposites attract (even if Maude's honorary dads Robby and Jack would really like a mandatory social distance.)

coming soon...

LOOK AT THAT WOMAN ✷ Jack Abbot.

Juno Robinavitch and Jack Abbot were two sides of the same coin — Where Juno was all smiles, too much understanding and a soft frame; Jack was sharp edges and a gruff voice as he barked out orders and, still, it all lead them to each other at the end of the every day. On the roof, in the corner booth of a small bakery at the end of the night shift or on the doorstep in front of Juno's apartment — Juno and Jack, as different at they were, would always find their way back home to each other.

THE PITT ONESHOTS

SIDE BY SIDE ✷ Dad!Jack Abbot.

Jack Abbot trusted his daughter; significantly so. When she is out with her friends and doesn't answer her phone, however? He can't help but think he should've been a bit more protective.

coming soon...

YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR ✷ Dad!Jack Abbot.