congratsLoserr

You'd be minding your own business, trying to get through the night with as little trouble as possible, when Jack would appear seemingly out of nowhere to pester you.

"How's charting going?" He'd mutter, leaning his thick arms on either side of you as you're sat at a work bench.

'He's trying to kill me. I'm sure of it.'

"It's, uh, going. You know?" Is this your first time speaking? No? Well, it absolutely looks like it.

Jack snorts, amused at your reaction, "Yeah? That's good to hear." He pushes himself up, rolling a chair beside you instead.

"Robby's been telling me that the new attending, Dr. Al-Hashimi, has been up everybody's ass about charting. A real methodical type. Don't want that happening to you, sweet thing. Understood?"

Your jaw is on the floor.

Were you drooling? Good God.

The effect this man has on you is insane.

Which is why you respond, idiotically, "Dr. Al-Hashimi works the day shift, doesn't she? So, she couldn't, uh, 'get on my ass,' right? Technically?"

Jack Abbot's signature smirk has found its way to his face again, but this time, it's more humorous than it is flirty.

"Hah, you really are something else..." He mumbles into his hand, fingers moving to cover his lips slightly, trying to hold in a laugh. It made you want to disappear off the face of the Earth.

"Maybe I worded it wrong, sorry, sweetheart. I'm a bit vulgar, that's just the old man in me. Sure, Al-Hashimi can't 'get on your ass,'" Jack lets out a small titter, "but she can express concern if you fall behind in charting. I just didn't want to you worry about another thing. You nurses have it tough enough as it is."

Ever the thoughtful man, Jack Abbot.

Screw him and his thoughtfulness.

Your heart is beating a million miles a minute, meanwhile your mind can barely rub two braincells together to form a cohesive sentence!

Why did he have to be hot, funny, and caring? It's so unfair!

"R-right. Thanks, Dr. Abbot." Is the best you could come up with.

"You don't have to thank me, sweetheart," he pats your shoulder as he rises to his feet. "Us nightcrawlers have to look out for each other."

The monicker was silly, as all monickers are, but somehow, Jack makes it sound fit for a king. Like the name means something.

In a way, it does. It represents the unity of the night shift. 'The weirdest and the wildest of them all.'

It doesn't take a genius to decode what he meant.

He's saying that you belong.

As he makes his way to complete his rounds, he throws over his shoulder, "And call me Jack!"

"When are you and Abbot gonna tie the knot?"

You nearly choke on your spit.

Parker Ellis, one of the night shift residents, has a tendency to be blunt. The E.D. toughens people up, and she sees no reason to filter her thoughts in a place like it.

After all, what's the point of dicing words when you face atrocities (such as death) everyday?

"W-what?" You gasp, trying desperately to regain composure.

Ellis serves you a deadpan expression, "Don't act dumb. Anyone with eyes can see it."

Scoffing, you retort, "See what, exactly? Dr. Abbot's just friendly, that's all."

You speed up the rate of your walking, hoping to reach your patient before Parker could make a comeback.

But, alas, the universe is determined to make every waking moment of your life embarrassing.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Stopping in your tracks, you bore your eyes into hers, "Look, whatever you think is 'going on' between Jack and I is nonexistent, you hear me? He's just messing with me."

You felt bitterness seeping in when you uttered the last sentence.

Parker raised her hands, attempting to de-escalate the situation, "Whoa, I hear you, alright? I didn't mean anything by it."

That only annoyed you further.

"Yeah, well, seems like everyone's playing with my emotions around here."

You didn't mean it.

Not entirely.

But the whole ordeal was just so confusing - when was Jack messing and when wasn't he? That is the question. Or whatever Shakespeare said.

It's difficult to tell because Jack's the kind of guy that breaks hearts without ever intending to.

He's just so magnetic that everyone gets sucked in whether they want to or not.

And unfortunately for you, you're knee-deep.

Jack finds you out in the ambulance bay, taking a breather (one of the luxuries he grants you).

"A little birdie told me that my favourite nurse is upset. Why could that be, hmm?"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you will yourself to turn to the familiar presence.

Abbot's eyes automatically flick to your face, a gentle smile on his.

"It's nothing."

He huffs out a disbelieving breath, "'Cause that's totally what people say when nothing is bothering them." The man wanders to your side, wrapping his hand around your forearm. "You can tell me anything, sweet girl."

His voice drops an octave, meant only for your ears.

The gruffness of it makes you shiver, "You should stop calling me that..."

Jack nods, "I should, shouldn't I?" There's a certain lilt when the question escapes his mouth, like a soft whimper. It makes a lick of heat run through you.

His hand shifts from your forearm to your middle, ever so slowly closing the gap amidst your bodies. "What's going on?"

You can feel the warmth of his breath fan over your skin, it's a delicious contrast to the cool air. All of a sudden, your eyelids feel so heavy, and your palms find purchase in his shirt - tugging at the collar minutely.

"Parker..." words are hard to come by when Jack is this close, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, "she, uh, asked when we were gonna 'tie the knot.'" You gulp, willing yourself to go on, "I told her that you're just messing with me, and God, it's just so painful to say aloud."

You feel Jack's chest vibrating, clearly finding the situation at hand hilarious.

"Don't tell me you seriously think that's true?"

Keeping your eyes downcast, you shrug, "You make it hard to believe otherwise."

He tilts your chin up, cooing, "Sweetheart... really? Do I have to get on my knees and beg?"

You let out a giggle at that, "It could help."

Jack, never doing things half-way, drops himself on his knees, looking up at you with those hypnotic hazel eyes.

"Jack! You're leg!"

"Shh, it's not like I can feel it anyway." He snorts, "Just let me do this for you."

He engulfs your hands in his, placing soft kisses on each finger.

"Will you-" mwah, "give me-" mwah, "the honour-" mwah, "to prove myself?"

Your face is burning; if a thermometer were to read it, you're sure it would declare you have a fever.

"I'm not standing until you give me an answer, sweetheart."

Right.

Speaking.

Words.

Both of which you have lost the ability of using at the moment.

"I, uh, yes?"

Your response elicits a loud laugh out of Jack, struggling to get up, "I'm unsure if that was a question or an answer, sweet girl."

Without thinking, you grab his face and kiss him on the lips. His lips were slightly chapped, but not uncomfortably so. You could feel how tense he was, eyes blown in shock, so you tangle your fingers into his luscious curls.

Jack's hands rest respectively on your upper back, knowing that if he let them slip any lower, he would wake up to a bajillion threatening emails from Gloria. That thought wasn't enough to pull him away from the kiss - the kiss that he waited for what felt like eons to finally happen.

It was quick (quicker than Jack would've liked), but it spoke a thousand words, which was much more than you could conjure up.

In the end, both of your scrub tops were in similar levels of disarray, hair mussed, and lips swollen.

Neither of you would have it any other way.

Chuckling to yourself, you ask, "How was that for an answer?"

So when he saunters up to your work bench (while you're in the middle of catching up on a never-ending list of charts) with hooded eyes and a boyish grin, asking you to accompany him to a new Greek place that opened up - you knew you had to shut this down immediately.

"No."

A beat of silence passes between you both. Jack blinks, the grin on his face slipping away, as if you dumped a bucket of cold water on his head.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said 'no,' Jack. Ever heard of it?" You spat. You were being mean, and you knew it. But you couldn't risk having your heart broken by a man who couldn't control his suggestive comments and lingering stares that are constantly misinterpreted by every woman in his vicinity.

It's worse that he knows the affect he has on people, and yet makes no effort to change. Sure, it's his choice - but how are you supposed to take him seriously when countless other individuals fell for his well-timed compliments and sad hazel eyes?

"Did I do something wrong?" The soft tone in his voice nearly makes you feel guilty.

Nearly.

Sighing, you reply with the easiest excuse you can come up with: "I just... I don't date coworkers."

Jack snorts at that, "I never said it would be a date, sweetheart. Bit presumptuous, aren't you?" With his arrogance returning, you feel slightly better about your earlier comment. Jack's a big boy. He can handle bluntness - goodness knows he needs a woman who makes him work for it.

"A dinner between two people of opposite genders. That's the textbook definition of a date, Abbot." You retort with an eye roll.

"Fine. Wanna hit a bar instead? Would that make it less intimate for you, Missy?" Oh, how you wanted to punch that gorgeous, pretentious face of his.

"I have no problems with intimacy, thank you very much. In fact, with the string of broken hearts you leave in your wake, it seems like you're the one struggling with not only intimacy, but commitment as well."

With that harsh blow to his ego, you log out of your workstation and dash over to complete your rounds - leaving Jack with a forlorn expression adorning his features, wondering what he could've done to be on the receiving end of your hostility.

You can hear the cheap plastic pen cracking underneath the pressure of your fingers.

The reason why a poor pen has become the object your anger projects itself onto, you might ask? Jack Abbot staring at Samira Mohan like she created emergency medicine herself.

You loved Samira - the golden girl of the day shift, Robby's female protege (his male protege being Langdon), and the protector of the oppressed.

She's achieved so much in such little time, which makes it incredibly easy to envy her.

It didn't take long for the rumour mill to catch onto Jack's little "crush" on her, if you could call it that. If you asked Jack, he'd just say that he holds a lot of admiration for her - which everyone calls BS on.

Ever since she started working nights for a week (claiming she needed a break from the drama), her and Abbot have been glued by the hip.

Rounds? They're together.

Procedures? They wordlessly team up after locking eyes.

When they just so happen to be charting at the same time? You have to restrain yourself from ripping your hair out when you hear their shared giggles from across the hub.

You only have yourself to blame - losing your chance with Jack after ruthlessly refusing his dinner offer, but it didn't make seeing him with another woman hurt any less.

And it certainly didn't help that Samira is the kind of woman that men would go to war for.

While you were stewing in your bitterness, Jack silently approached your side, a kind smile decorating his face.

"Hey."

You can't even bare to look at him, staring at your shoes, "Hey."

He pinches your cheek playfully, "What's up with you today, sweetheart? You look like a little raincloud."

Scoffing, you swat his hand away - ignoring the butterflies erupting in your stomach. He seriously needs to drop the pet-names before you start thinking they mean something.

"Kinda hard to be chirpy in a place like this, wouldn't you say?" Gesturing around the ED, fingers making circular motions. Jack would never say this (because you'd probably tug his earlobe for it), but he finds how you talk with your hands adorable.

"I dunno. I think I'm plenty chirpy myself. More than you are, anyway." Mischief evident in his eyes.

Turning away from him with a huff, "Whatever, Abbot. I can't deal with your narcissistic comments right now. Or ever. Honestly, how does Mohan stand it?"

Idiot.

You stupid, stupid girl.

That causes Jack's movements to halt, analysing your face with piercing eyes.

"Mohan? Now why'd you feel the need to bring her up, beautiful?"

You wanted the world to swallow you whole. Anything to escape the devilish look on Jack Abbot's face.

You swear he's practically growing horns at your slip-up.

Steeling yourself, you sheepishly respond with, "You two have been really close recently, that's all... Seems like she has to deal with your quips more than anyone should."

You try to sound nonchalant, like this means nothing. Like you haven't been seething with jealousy every time they interact.

"That's all? You sure, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh." You rock back and forth on your feet - which Jack knows is your tell. His sweet girl is lying to his face.

He needs to milk this opportunity as much as he can.

Leaning so close that his lips ghost over your ear, Jack whispers, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you're jealous, honey."

He tries to hold in a chuckle when you shudder against him.

Pushing his luck, he places a hand on your hip, pulling you even closer. "How about we revisit that dinner idea, huh? Maybe then I could prove that there is absolutely nothing to be jealous over. Let me ease your mind, love."

A weaker woman would've taken the offer and ran with it, you tell yourself. A weaker woman would allow herself the delusion of changing a man like Jack Abbot. A weaker woman would grab him by the collar and-

"No. Jack, no." You press your hands on his toned chest (which you try to ignore the feeling of), trying to create as much distance as possible.

The man's brows furrow, a small pout on his lips. "Give me a chance. Please. I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

"That's what I'm scared of." With that, you let go of his chest, eyes glassing over with unshed tears.

This was the right decision. Getting involved with a coworker is a HR nightmare. Especially when that coworker is a notorious womaniser.

You can barely hear Jack sigh when you reject him a second time, running his hands through his silver curls frustratedly.

"Hey, sunshine. Have you seen Abbot around?" Lena asks when you approach the central hub.

You freeze at the mention of his name, "Uh, nope. Why'd you ask?"

The night shift charge nurse sighs softly, "He's probably on the roof again. He tends to brood up there - thinking thoughts that he probably shouldn't."

She looks at you pointedly, "Perhaps... it would be better if he had someone else with him?"

Looking at her with pleading eyes, "He doesn't wanna see me."

Lena laughs at that, "That man always wants to see you. You know he hates leaving important conversations unfinished - so why don't you kids sort your shit out, hmm?"

Her tone leaves nothing up for discussion.

Running up the stairs of the fire escape, you shove the roof door open, finding Jack leaning against the railing.

If he senses your presence, he doesn't make it known.

"Jack."

The man doesn't turn around when he says, "Lemme guess. Lena sent you?"

You will yourself to walk closer, gulping nervously, "She did."

He sighs, head hanging low, "Look, you don't need to do this."

Your response is immediate. "I want to."

His eyes flit to your figure for the first time during this conversation.

"I know I've been... rude, as of late. I'm sorry." You move beside him, resting your hand on top of his.

"I've said things that I shouldn't have. For the stupidest reason." Huffed out with a cynical laugh. Jack tries to initiate eye contact, but you avoid it, finding this whole situation humiliating enough as it is.

"You just... you flirt with everyone. Everyone. You might not be aware of it, but you do. And it makes me question everything." Swiping at your watery eyes, you continue, "I want nothing more than to go on a date with you, Jack. But I'm scared that you'll regret it."

Jack cups your face with his big hands, "Why would I ever regret it, sweetheart?"

"Because I get jealous. I want you all to myself- no, I need you all to myself. I notice all the women here swooning over you, and you leading them on." More tears slip, "I'm not like Samira. Simple things affect me."

He continues to wipe your tears, listening intently, "Well, it's a good thing I don't want Samira, isn't it?"

Jack's dilated eyes meet yours, "I asked you out to dinner, didn't I? I want you and only you. Just say the word and I'm all yours, honey. Hell, I already am."

You sniffle, nodding at his words, "I'd love to have dinner with you, Jack Abbot."

His hands turn your face upward, mumbling, "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Before he places his lips onto yours.

What if you weren’t fine? What if you believed him, and then you died or there was a complication or several other things all aligned perfectly, and you were patient zero for some strange, unresolvable medical anomaly? It was all possible, even if the chances were slim, and waiting in this dismal room was making him consider it all. He wished he had gone into surgery. He wouldn’t be going through any of this if he were a surgeon. 

Jack’s knee had begun to shake when a nurse finally entered the waiting room and looked around. It was the same nurse who had assured him, several times, that they were aware of your allergies and would call him immediately if anything went wrong, so Jack shot up from his chair. He ignored the ache in his leg and brushed down the material of his jeans, and he walked over to her before she could even register who he was. 

“How’s she doing?” Jack greeted, hands pressed together to look casual, but he was anything but casual. His wife was lying in a hospital bed, and he wasn’t there, and that was not casual. 

Nurse Caroline, Jack had taken it upon himself to remember, gave him a soft smile. She still had a scrub cap on and didn’t look stressed or nervous, but Jack was familiar with compartmentalizing in front of patients’ families, and he was a patient’s family. He held his breath and tried to look casual again. 

“She’s doing just fine, Dr. Abbot. There was a minor complication with bleeding, but nothing we couldn’t handle. We’ve been observing her for the past half hour, and she’s responding well to the titration of meds. Starting to wake up, but she’s pretty out of it. Don’t be alarmed.” 

“What kind of complication?” Jack asked, right on the heels of nurse Caroline as she guided him through the maze of patient rooms. “Something surgery-related or a predisposition?” 

Caroline hooked her chin over her shoulder. “I’ll give you the full note in her discharge summary, how about that? You can review the entire procedure.” 

“Not sure I need to do that,” Jack muttered under his breath, though the thought comforted him. “Just a rundown would be fine.” 

“Right. And I’m sure about a thousand follow-up questions after? I know how you doctors are.” She pointed at him with a teasing smile. “And I especially know how you are when we’re working on your wives. You can read the summary and bring any questions to her post-op in two weeks, capiche?” 

Jack grumbled something back, the sound left in the hall as he entered your room. And you looked… fine. About what he expected you to look like after surgery. He didn’t particularly enjoy the bleary way you were staring up at the ceiling, your waning skin, or even that you were in a hospital bed at all, but those were all temporary things. He could pack away the comparisons to nightmares he’s had about you in the ED and lower his tone to a comforting decibel. You needed that more than you needed a panicky, nauseous husband. 

“Hey, baby,” Jack all but whispered, his hand coming to rest on the top of your head. He leaned down and tried to enter your line of sight. “How you feeling?” 

You didn’t answer right away, or even focus your gaze on him. Jack’s thumb rubbed along your forehead, and he looked up to Caroline in the corner of the room, her attention fixed on the computer. “How long did you say she’s been awake?” 

“Only a few minutes,” nurse Caroline replied. “Some people just take a little longer to come out of it, as I’m sure you’re aware.” 

“But—” 

“Just give it a sec, Dr. Abbot. Before you freak out.” 

Jack nodded—to himself, as Caroline hadn’t looked up from her computer once—and furrowed his brow as he turned his gaze back down to you. He blinked as he realized you were already looking at him, a layer of relief resting atop his panic. He offered you a smile that radiated fondness and adjusted his hand on your head, brushing your hair back. 

“There’s my girl,” Jack quietly encouraged. “Feeling pretty crappy, huh?” 

You squinted and nodded, and Jack asked, “Do you have her on pain meds?” which nurse Caroline quickly affirmed. She seemed very well-versed in treating doctors and related categories, and Jack was subtly grateful for her nonchalance. He wondered if she was chosen specifically for the ED attending’s case, and then stopped wondering as you started to speak. 

“Are you my doctor?” you hoarsely asked, grimacing as you shifted on the bed. 

Jack’s smile widened. “Not today. Tried to be, but they told me I don’t have enough specialized training to remove a gallbladder.” 

“They took my gallbladder?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. It was causing you more trouble than it was worth. Better to take it out.” 

You made a worried sound, your eyes hazy. “Can I live without my gallbladder? Can I have someone else’s?”

Jack quietly chuckled to himself, his fingers continuing to draw shapes along your temples, your forehead, your jaw. “You can live a perfectly healthy life without one. I’ll help you figure it all out, okay? Worst case scenario, I’ll find a way to give you mine.” 

You hummed, leaning into his touch, and Jack felt his chest warm. Everything was fine. You were uncomfortable and confused, but you were fine. He was about to ask Caroline more about your post-op appointment and when you could be discharged when you jolted against him. He snapped his gaze down to you instantly, assessing for anything that could have gone wrong. His hands went from caressing you to hovering an inch over your body, afraid to do more. 

“What is it?” he pressed out.

But your wide eyes were not filled with pain. Instead, they were tracking the wedding band on Jack’s left hand, a hint of fear in your expression. “Are you married?” you whispered. 

Instinctively, Jack rolled the ring in his fingers. He slowly replied, “Yes,” and let caution simmer in the space between you. Somewhere behind him, Caroline had finally turned away from her computer, brows raised at the scene. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, and Jack winced as you shoved your head back against the bed. “And to think I was being all… like that with you. How mortifying.”

“I don’t—” 

“And you were being all… touchy. You have a wife.” You ran a hand over your face, your IV trailing alongside you and making Jack wince again as he worried for the tangled lines. “I am so embarrassed.” 

Jack didn’t quite know what to say. You were very clearly still out of it, your brows furrowed in confusion and your eyes looking lost, but all the usual tactics he would use to comfort you were not going to work. His adoring husband repertoire was effectively useless. Jack felt his heart break a little at the notion of being a stranger, but this was temporary. You likely wouldn't even remember it. 

Jack swallowed, cleared his throat, and shoved his hands in his pockets because he couldn’t just have them hanging. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. I’m… uh—I do have a wife, but—” 

“But he’s your post-op nurse,” Caroline cut in from behind him. She threw him a look that said don’t confuse her when she’s coming off of anesthesia and rounded the other side of your bed. “The touching is necessary. In fact, he’s also going to be your driver home. New service we have.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled out, playing with your fingers in your lap. Jack felt his own hands twitch in his pockets at your slight pout. “So everything is fine?” 

It took Jack a moment to realize you were looking at him. He sprang into action as he caught your expecting gaze. “Oh, more than fine, sweet—uh, miss. We’re going to get you home, and I’ll be back for more post-op care.” 

“Be back at my house?” 

“Yeah. I’ll… be there a lot.” 

“Lucky me,” you yawned. “But not lucky wife.” 

Jack pressed his lips into a line to stave off the laugh. “My wife’s okay with it. She knows it’s part of the job.” 

Caroline had begun checking final vitals and milling about your bed. She removed your IV and scanned your hospital bracelet before returning to the computer. Jack watched each step carefully, hands still shoved into his pockets, and nodded when discharge paperwork was sent to his email. He didn’t really need it, but he knew the procedure notes would be attached, so he would read every word as you slept. A quick check-in from the surgeon was the final key to going home, and Jack had carefully guided you into a wheelchair with hands that knew you better than he led on. You were half-asleep by the time you reached his truck. 

“Hey, wake up for me, baby. Gotta get you settled in.”

You squinted and grimaced, and Jack wished he could have just carried you in without the hassle, but the nurse said your stitches were in a delicate zone and you needed careful movement. You threw an arm over his shoulders, and Jack fought the urge to kiss your head as he buckled you into the seat. He didn’t want to startle you. It took physical force to shut the door without touching you more. 

He opted for a soft smile when your head rested against his passenger-side window, feeling jittery as he started the engine and backed out of the employee parking garage at the PTMC. You spoke again when you were a few miles away from home. 

“Your wife must really love you,” you sleepily pointed out, eyes struggling to stay open. “If you treat her like you treat your patients.” 

The lingering warmth in Jack’s chest made his heart skip a beat. He kept his eyes on the road. “I like to think I treat her just a little more special.” 

“Really love you, then.” 

“Yeah, that’s the hope,” Jack smiled to himself. “But pretty sure I love her a whole lot more than that.” 

“That’s nice, Nurse.” 

And when you got into the house just a couple of minutes later, your wedding pictures sprawled across the walls, Jack’s belongings mixed with yours, your jaw dropped, a starry-eyed gaze turning on your “post-op nurse.” 

“Am I your wife?” you gaped. 

Jack took the opportunity to finally touch you, bringing his hands from the clinical guidance around your shoulders to rest delicately around your waist—just to help you walk inside. And maybe because it had only been a car ride, but he missed touching you like he was your husband. He smiled at you from over your shoulder. 

“Yeah, baby. We had a pretty fun wedding. You’ll remember it when you wake up.” 

“Ho-ly shit,” you replied, stunned as Jack led you through the living room filled with your life together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack let his nose brush along your temple. “Better to leave things simple when you wake up from a surgery. Wouldn’t want to stress you out with big news.” 

“Are you actually a nurse?” 

“I’m a doctor.” 

“Shit,” you repeated. Jack took on more of your weight as you started to fall forward. 

“Okay, no more big news until you’re lying down,” Jack stressed, gently tucking your hair back as you approached the bed and struggled to sit down. You swayed slightly where he put you, and Jack crouched down to meet your dazed expression. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know after you sleep some of this off. Promise.” 

“Where’s my wedding ring?” 

He took your hand into his, kissing the empty space. “No jewelry in surgery. Did you hear me? Sleep first, then information.” 

“Am I a doctor? I don’t think I am. Do we have children?” 

“I love you so much.” Jack paused, tapping your cheek lightly. “It’s time to sleep.” 

“You’ll tell me everything when I wake up?” 

Everyone knew that you and Dr. Abbot were exceptionally close, more so than anyone else. Still, the two of you conducted yourselves in a professional manner and the residents chalked it up to doctors having their favourite/preferred nurse to work with; ie. Robby and Dana.

Whenever there was a case that Jack worked on, everyone knew that you'd be the first person he'd ask for. Whenever out with the team for a post-shift beer or rare bar night, Jack could always be found chatting with you or Robby, but with you always somewhere close behind. During short lulls in the shift, on the occasion that Jack would actually eat, he'd make his way into the staff room and plop himself down beside you, no words needed, just your company and the simple task of sharing a meal together.

So as far as relationships go, the residents and med students never even thought of pitting the two of you with one another. Regardless of how much time you spend with the doctor, your personalities were entirely different. You were the sunshine of the ED. Whenever someone was down, you were always the first person to try and comfort them, lending an ear or shoulder to cry on. When a difficult patient came in, you somehow always managed to calm them down, explaining the situation and never letting them feel blindsided by the steps and procedures needed to be done. To the rest of the staff, you were the epitome of rainbows and butterflies so they expected that if you were dating someone, they'd be just like you.

Jack on the other hand could not be more different. Just the fact that he was more senior in position and age to most of the people in the ED intimidated them already. Also, in their eyes, anyone who could spend years being Robby's best friend must already have something wrong going on with them, the SWAT shifts did not help to dissuade this assumption. Jack wasn't mean or rude, but he was definitely assertive. Jack knew how to run a trauma and didn't let anyone's mistakes get in the way of saving a patient. He could be gruff and sometimes appear cold but only because he didn't feel like oversharing about his life like the rest of the team. Jack knew what he liked and didn't like and was honest almost to a fault, the reason why some people felt scared to approach him.

Thus, all things considered, you and Jack were nowhere near the resident's radar, with only Dana and Robby knowing the truth about your relationship, that is, until the two of you stopped caring whether or not the rest of them knew.

It was one of those rare quiet times in the ED when no one needed immediate care and attention. Everyone was gathered around the nurses' station and computers. The residents were all catching on their charting while Robby and Jack sat close by reviewing patient labs and getting orders for medication ready. You of course were sat beside Jack catching up on your own work.

Trinity felt as though her head was gonna explode, closing her eyes for a brief second to try and will the ringing in her ears to go away. Dennis sat beside her and yawned for what felt like the hundredth time in ten minutes. Across from them, Victoria looked as though she was two seconds away from falling asleep while Mel's face scrunched up trying to focus on her screen. On either side of the desks, McKay was mindlessly scrolling through her chart, trying to look as if she was actually absorbing any information while Samira sat on the other end, the most put together of the bunch with her headphones in. The day seemed to drag on with no end in sight, the comfortable beeping of machines and low murmurs of patients acting as background noise.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Everyone's immediate attention was ripped away from whatever they were doing in order to turn in your direction which seemed to be entirely focused on Jack.

All of the residents looked at each other with incredulous eyes, even Samira took off her earphones once seeing how everyone reacted. Though, you seemed not to care at all that the rest of the ED seemed to be watching you as you continued to stare at Jack; even Dana looked up from where she was reading a chart to let out a small huff of laughter at your antics.

When Jack didn't immediately respond, you poked him lightly on the bicep trying to get his attention.

"Jaaaack" you draw out his name, "would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Without even looking up from his work, Jack silently grabbed your hand that you were holding out before bringing it up to his mouth to plant a brief kiss onto your hand, "yes darling, of course I would."

Satisfied with his answer, you gave a giddy nod of your head before turning back to your work, keeping your hand in Jack's as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

Less than five feet away, the residents felt as though they were witnessing a medical miracle. Victoria was left with her mouth hanging open while Mel sat completely still, blinking in fast intervals as though trying to understand what just happened. Dennis kept looking back and forth between the two of you before turning over to look at Trinity, knowing that if anyone was going to speak up, it'd be her.

"So, are we just pretending that didn't happen?" Trinity asked bewildered.

"Pretending what didn't happen?" Robby said, looking up from the chart in his hand.

"That, right there" McKay gestured widely at you and Jack still holding hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Robby smiled, before looking back down at his work.

The residents continued to share wide eyes with each other, even going as far as to look over at Dana for explanation but the charge nurse wouldn't even glance their way, choosing to stare at the tablet in front of her, but not without them seeing the obvious smirk on her face.

he’d be scanning the groceries at self-checkout, and you’d turn to see one of the workers looking at him. your spine went stiff, a frown marring your face. and then you’d start tugging on his sleeve from beside him, telling him to hurry, hurry up, hurry up, let’s go.

“who wants to have their way with me now?” he’d mumble, bumping his hip into yours, still not looking away from the register.

“no one,” you’d say. you didn’t want to boost his ego anymore. “just fucking hurry up now.”

“who is it?”

“me. i do. let’s go home so i can have my way with you.”

he clicked his tongue. “liar. you’re just gonna yell at me.” still, he turned his neck slightly to where yours was, murmuring a small “ah” to himself.

you groaned, but he did speed up. with bags in hand, he turned to walk out with you, placing himself behind you, free palm on your shoulder, thumb finding the curve where your neck met it. you’d come face-to-face with the poor woman you’d theorized was already in love with jack.

“hey, my girlfriend here really wants some lottery tickets. can you let my girlfriend know where she can find them?”

he couldn’t help it! he loves the little way the corners of your mouth curves up whenever he makes it clear that he’s taken.

the woman would blink, an obvious wedding band catching under the lights (jack would snort softly from behind you), as she pointed toward the front counter, entirely married, entirely not the threat you’d decided she was.

“good,” you murmured later, grabbing the lottery ticket as it printed.

his free palm would settle on your waist and he’d murmur, “did i make you happy back there?”

“yup.”

and jack would smile because he truly did feel like he’d won the lottery. he’d watch you over your shoulder as you fussed out a coin, brow furrowed as you did the scratch-off.

“i won two dollars,” you’d say after revealing the last symbol. you’d twist in his arms, ticket held up with a smile like you’d just told him you were pregnant with triplets instead of two dollars richer.

“lucky girl,” he’d say, matching your smile. his mouth would brush your hairline.

“uh-huh,” you’d say, letting him stay there, nose tucked against your hair.

“c’mon then, let’s go.” he’d put his hand on the small of your back after a minute, turning you around, to lead you out. clearly still hanging onto your short burst of jealousy. “before someone else decides to steal me.”

“don’t.”

“i’m vulnerable,” he’d tease.

or you’d go to pick him up in the morning, watching him handover the shift to robby, and then he’d go and say goodbye to one of his patients who thanked him profusely.

when he’d come back out, you’d roll your eyes and turn your back to him, already walking to the exit. “aren’t you just a ladies man?”

robby’d look at jack slightly confused and maybe even a bit put off, but jack would just wet his lips as he watched you leave, looking completely and utterly delighted.

“your girlfriend’s got a jealous streak, i think.”

“she does, doesn’t she?” jack would still be watching the doors you’d gone through, tugging the lanyard off his neck. “i love her. i gotta go.”

robby would rub his chin as he watches the man he’s known for too long look utterly delighted to get chewed out and wonder what the hell was going on in your home.

meanwhile you’d be at the car with your arms crossed, watching jack walk toward you with a little smile on his face that should’ve been wiped off with the long shift.

“i’m sorry,” he’d say immediately, slightly out of breath because he’d sped up to find you. “she thought i was her son,” he said about the patient, an eighty-year-old woman who truly did think he was her son. “but i’m sorry.”

“you’re too old to be her son.”

“too old to be a lotta things.” he’d back you gently into the passenger door, hands finding your hips. “not for this, though.”

and you’d keep going anyway, muttering how he was too nice, that he should only smile at you, that it wasn’t fair, that he was doing it on purpose.

“tell me to shut up,” you’d say out of nowhere, in the middle of your rant, furrowing your brows as he let you go on and on.

“no.” he’d rear his head back like he was confused by the demand. “i’ve wanted to hear your voice for the last twelve hours.”

you’d stare up at him with your mouth slightly open and nothing at all to say. his thumb would come up to press gently on your chin, keeping the expression there.

“there she is,” he’d murmur, pleased. “quiet at last.”

in the car, on the way home, he’d respond to bits of your rant.

“all my patient satisfaction scores are gonna go down.”

“so those are more important than me?”

his hand would land on your thigh as he kept his eyes on the road. “nope. i like the girl more than the scores.”

a lot of the time with you, he’d feel like a puppy getting a trick right. which is why he’d started doing it on purpose; introducing you before he introduces himself, texting you the logistics of his life unprompted, taking your hand in the condiments aisle for no reason, calling you after physical therapy simply because his physical therapist – sam – had touched his arms during the lesson and – like he’d been pavlov’d, some conditioned little bell going off in his head that only you were allowed to touch him – jack felt an immediate pressing need to hear your voice.

he knew that he was only feeding into it, selfishly craving more of your teeth in his shoulder and your fingers wrapped around his forearms in public even if your positioning hardly ever allowed for it.

it was getting out of hand. on a night off, when he’d come in with swat during the day and stayed until the end of day shift, robby and dana asked him to come to the bar and get a drink.

“yeah – let me just ask her if she can come, too.” he immediately said, already pulling out the phone to ask you.

except you were on shift till nine p.m., and you’d said so – go!!! have fun!!! tell dana i said hi!!! – when he texted you. jack made a small noise in his mouth.

“i can’t,” he’d said.

“she’s not letting you go?” robby asked curiously.

no, you’d in fact told him the opposite of that. but he didn’t want to say that, quite liking the idea of you having that hold on him. so, he’d say, “somethin’ like that,” hoisting his bag over his shoulders. “i’m gonna sit in her bar till she gets off. you’re welcome to grab a drink there.”

“so we can all watch your girlfriend make drinks?”

dana would simply chuckle, shaking her head, already knowing that jack would somehow manage to convince half the staff clocking out to come watch you work.

he’d never felt as doted on and claimed as you made him feel. you’d swapped out the ancient bar of soap in his shower for something that smelled like you. there were bobby pins in every crevice of his car now. you’d somehow become his emergency contact, too, leaving robby a little stunned.

you’d spend all night leaving small marks on his body (the crescent of your nails at his shoulder, your teeth marks just below his collarbone that would be evident with one wrong movement under his scrubs) and he loved finding each of it randomly while getting ready.

this is also why he’s so confused when dana brings up your jealousy and how a little bit of couples counseling could help. nothing feels wrong about the relationship at all!

he’d go through all the questions he assumed a therapist would ask.

was he unhappy? not at all. he was actually stupidly happy. he’d started humming in the car and coming home early.

was he worried? about what – that you’d give him the silent treatment for twenty minutes and then hold onto his bicep for hours just to make up for it? that you’d get a bit vicious about someone and then fall asleep on his chest like an overheated animal?

that you sat tucked him in the corner in restaurant booths so you could see the whole room and he could only see you? jack hardly thought there was anything worth looking at besides you anyway.

“even the healthiest couples do it,” dana would say.

“what would it do?” jack would ask curiously, indulging her.

“well.” dana would settle in, elbows on the desk, warmly concerned. “it’ll help with her being less possessive, for starters.”

jack would just look at her, head tilted, genuinely lost. then he’d rub his thumb along his jaw, feeling eerily unsettled by the words. “it’d make her stop?”

“ideally, yeah. that’s the idea.”

oh, he hated that thought. he knew your possessiveness didn’t come out of you being insecure. he knew that it was easy to assume some poor anxious girl white-knuckling her way through the relationship, checking his phone, counting the women, but that wasn’t it.

it came out of you picking him up and putting him in your pocket. you’d simply decided that jack abbot was yours, and so what if you got a little feral when the world got too near him?

“nah,” he’d say, shaking his head as he pressed his lips together. “we’re alright.”

“you may be fine with it. but, she’d have healthier relationships in case – ”

jack’s eyes would widen, and dana would look a little caught off-guard, realizing what she’d said.

“no.” he’d make a small sound, shaking his head again. “we don’t need that, then.”

“jack –”

“she’s not goin’ anywhere.” he’d knock the desk twice. “neither am i.”

“you know what,” dana would say, blowing out a breath. “i believe that.”

later that afternoon, he’d settle on the couch beside you, mind still reeling from the idea of there being an after him for you. his arms would go around your shoulders, pulling you in impossibly close. one hand would fit around the back of your neck, thumb under your jaw, tipping your face up until you had nowhere to look but at him.

“never gonna leave me, right?” he’d ask.

your brows would pull in together, the corners of your lips curving downwards.

“why?” you’d drawl. “planning on doing something bad?”

“nope,” he’d say. “just askin’”

your jaw would tighten as you tried to gauge his expression. “then stop. nobody’s leaving anybody.” you fixed him with a pointed look. “you’re not going anywhere.”

“damn right i’m not,” he’d say. his hands would slide up your neck and into your hair, fingers spreading wide. “say it again.”

you’d laugh shortly. “you’re not going anywhere.”

“mm.” his thumb would drag along the column of your neck as he felt you go pliant under his hold. “again.”

“jack – ”

“humor me, angel,” he’d say, the words coming out in a barely-hidden plea.

“you’re not going anywhere,” you’d say, humoring him, half breathless and the other exasperated. he’d kiss you on the last word, catching it in his mouth before it finished.

the other hand would come down at your lower back and haul you across to settle on his lap.

both your knees would land on either side of him, and his hands would immediately settle on your hips.

“you’re being so strange today,” you’d say, chin tilting up as his mouth dragged down your neck.

“yeah.” he’d smile against your skin. “gonna hold it against me?”

“maybe.”

“good,” he’d say, breathing out, breath billowing warmly. “hold everything against me.”

you’d laugh, surprised at the dramatics. and he would smile so hard and spend the entire day proving to you he would never. which mostly meant he let you do whatever you wanted for eleven straight hours.

you’d put a face mask on him. he’d sit there on the couch, a decorated combat medic, and let you take four photos he’d only found out you’d posted when javadi and santos looked at him funnily during handover. he’d let you try different colors of polish on his nails, and then paint yours with the one you liked best.

he’d watch you scroll on your laptop through different clothes, pointing out things he liked, which you’d taught him to do while being visibly delighted the one time he’d said “this one’s nice.” now he did it constantly, never quite holding himself back from voicing his opinions (it was often, he thought everything would look great on you).

jack is exactly where he wants to be! and people would just have to grow used to your claws and your terrible manners spawning out of nowhere, because the man they came out for had no intention of asking you to put them away.

“Bug’s asking for you, mumbling something about a wishing tree.”

“Robby what are you saying?” Luck was never on Jack’s side, so to think he got this lucky? He refuses to believe it.

“I’m saying you need get to the ICU right this second.”

“Are you sure-“ 

“Abbot. It’s her. It’s been confirmed.” Jack is about to get his happy ending after all. 

Jack ran down the stairs to the ICU, ignoring the stabbing pain in his leg because pain did not matter anymore. Knowing that you are here, alive, with him, is all that mattered. He held onto that flicker of hope in his heart like a lifeline. 

He doesn’t catch his breath as he charges into the ICU but he’s met with at least four security guards. “It’s best if you leave”, the guard says.

“I need to see her!” 

“One more step and you’ll get arrested.”

“There’s been a mistake!” He begs, “that’s not Meg that’s the love of my life in there, I need to see her!”

“Dr Abbot” one of the ICU nurses steps out behind the guards. “The family has put in a request for you to be nowhere near her.”

“No” Jack is so close to having you in his arms, “no, they can’t do that! There’s been a mistake!”

“Dr Abbot don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. You’re not next of kin and you have no right.”

“What did she say! She- she asked for me! She wants me!” 

“She’s been put back to sleep." The nurse can see the hurt in his eyes, but there is nothing she can do. She takes a few steps toward him and whispers, “She was confused and agitated so she’s being moved home; the family arranged for home care. I’d suggest keeping the peace and leaving right this second.”

"Please can I just see her one last time." Jack doesn't care that he's crying and pleading in front of the entire unit. 

"I'm sorry."

Maybe Jack wasn’t so lucky after all. 

The plan

“Abbot where the hell have you been!” Robby, along with the team were waiting anxiously after Jack not picked up anyone’s call after going to the ICU. 

“Clearing my head.” Coming up with a plan. “They wouldn’t let me see her. The bastards are moving her!”

“I know, I called Sharon at ICU; they said you lost your shit!”

“At Meg I did! And now they’re saying it’s not Meg. What the hell, Robby!”

“Let’s all talk in the family room”

“I’m going back to the ICU, I’m breaking her out of there.”

Jack does not wait any longer until he sees you. His emotions are all over the place; was he happy? excited? sad? He is confused. Jack is a confused man, but one who is madly in love.

“Family Room. Now!” Robby’s yells were loud enough for everyone to stop what they were doing and look over at the two men. One was angry, and the other was crying.

In the family room, gathered Jack, Robby, Trinity and Parker. 

Jack paced around the room, limping with every step, but the pain in his heart was much worse. 

“The family is threatening to sue the hospital because of the error the lab did.” Robby states. “So she’s being moved to home care at their manor.”

“The hell they are!”

“Dr Abbot, calm the hell down right this second.” Trinity cuts in firmly, and Jack immediately stops pacing. “We came up with a plan.”

“What’s this plan then?” 

“Sharon is the charge nurse upstairs, said that she was incredibly agitated and yelling, so they’ve put her back to sleep. Once she's awake again, they need to do their checks and clear her for discharge.” Robby says calmly, “If the accident has not affected her capacity, then she can legally consent to do whatever she wants.”

“There’s a but coming” Jack’s patience has run out, ages ago. 

“But they are threatening to sue the hospital, so they might have to let her go, whether she likes it or not.”

“No! Absolutely the fuck n-“

“Jack, I swear to God if you don’t calm down right this second we’re gonna have an issue.” Robby cuts in firmly. “The funeral is in three days. So we’re hoping that in three days’ time, she’s going to be awake, with capacity to make her own decision. At home as per her parents’ wishes.”

“Why three days?” 

“Because that’s when we’re gonna break her out,” Parker adds. 

Jack refuses to feel any more flickers of hope until you’re with him. “How do you plan on doing that? The manor has locked gates; there will be nurses and carers. Plus the family.”

“The family’s all gonna be at the funeral. That’s when we go in.”

“Again, how?”

“It’s a good thing we’re all doctors. One thing the nurses won’t question is a home visit.”

Another flicker of hope that Jack ignores. “I’m going with you.”

“Oh boy, he’s not gonna like this,” Santos mutters under her breath, and Jack shoots her a look. “You’re going to the funeral.” 

“Why the hell would I do that for?” 

“The family isn’t stupid, Jack. Your picture is probably plastered all over the manor with a warning label. So while you're at the funeral, acting sad, we'll be at the manor."

“You guys would do this for us?” Jack’s tears haven’t stopped since leaving the ICU. He looks more broken than when he thought you were dead. 

“I’d do anything for you, brother.”

“Even kidnapping?” Jack asks. 

“Not kidnapping if she consents to it.” Parker adds with a big smile. “Let’s get planning!”

Home care - day one 

“Can you eat something, please?” Your mom asks you, holding a plate of mashed-up food.

“I want Jack” you mutter weakly.

“Eat and then maybe we’ll call him.”

“I want Jack” you repeat. “I want to speak to him.”

"He's at work, we'll call him later this evening?"

“I want Jack, I want Jack, I want Jack, I want Jack" you repeat to yourself. She leaves the room, leaving you dealing with a broken heart. If only you were able to move, you’d run to him.

Hours later, she returns and asks the nurses, “How has she been?”

“She’s refusing meds and food. She keeps asking for Jack.”

“She won’t be speaking to that man ever again. Administer the sedating meds.”

“But-“ 

“Give the meds or I swear you’ll never practice nursing again.”

“Yes ma’am.” The nurse stutters.

Another few hours pass, another check in.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re awake.”

“Screw you” you spit out “Let me out of here.”

“You can’t move baby. Where will you go?”

“Back to Jack! Let me out, let me out, let me out!” you scream at her until your throat burns and your voice breaks.

“How about we give you some more meds, hmm?”

“No, no more meds no more meds!” You yell at the nurse, “I have capacity and I’m saying no!”

The nurse mutters a sorry as she approaches you. If only you had the energy to fight her.

You repeat Jack’s name quitely to yourself as you fall back to sleep. 

Home care - day two

“Shall we try and eat something today?” Your mom sat by your bed with yet another plate of mashed-up food.

“I want Jack. I keep telling you I want Jack,” you cry quietly.

“I promise we’ll give him a call, only if you eat something.”

“And I’m telling you, I want him and only him.”

“She said some hurtful things to you when you were in the ICU.” She says softly, “he was almost arrested-“

“No” you cut in.

“He yelled at you, baby”

“I’m not your baby!” How dare she.

“The hospital said he was aggressive-”

“No no no no no-

“- He blames you for Megan’s death.” She lies. 

“no no- what?” Jack, your Jack, would never blame you. Your heart refuses to believe it, despite her hurtful words.

“He lost the love of his life, who do you think he was going to blame?”

“You’re lying! He wouldn’t do that!”

“The entire hospital knows. You were driving, after all.”

“You’re lying! I want to speak to him, Mom, please!” 

“Your sister is dead, and all you care about is that piece of shit-“

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you for what you did to him!” Your heart thumped in your chest so aggressively, you could hear the machine near your bed blare across the room. You knew the next step would be administering meds against your wishes. If only you had the energy to strangle her right this second. 

“We’ll try food in a few hours. Meds please.” Your mom says calmly before leaving the room. 

“Please, I’m begging you, no.” Your arm reaches slowly over to the nurse's hand. “Please, I have capacity, and I am telling you no.”

“She threatened me....”

“I promise i’ll pretend to sleep. But please no more meds.”

“I-I can’t i’m sorry.”

“No please, I beg you” you cry out, “please, I’ll be good. I promise you please, i'll behave”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” You say calmly.

Maybe acting like a good girl would get you reunited with Jack.

Home care - day three

“Hey sweetheart, we’re going to the funeral.” 

“Okay mom.” You thought to yourself, have fun, you bitch. But being the good girl you are, you opted for, “i’ll be thinking of you all today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” She says softly, one hand resting on your bruised-up and bandaged cheeks. “I’ll light a candle for her, from you.”

“That would be lovely.” You hoped they would all burn in hell. “When will you be back?”

“Later this evening baby.” She presses a soft kiss to your head that makes your stomach turn. “Lucy here will take care of you.”

You force a small, sad smile. “Say hi to grandad for me.”

The moment she leaves the room, you beg Lucy, the nurse, to give you her phone so you can make a phone call. You don't tell her it's Jack you are calling. After so much crying and begging, she eventually agrees. She dials the number for you and puts it on loudspeaker, but Jack’s phone is switched off.

“Try again, please.” You’re so close to hearing his voice. So close. 

“Off.”

“Please again.”

She tries again, and again, and again, but his phone is switched off. 

You wonder if Jack indeed hates you after what you did to Meg.

The Funeral

Jack opted for a seat at the back of the church, nowhere near the family. Robby insisted that he should act sad and heartbroken, which Jack felt but not for Meg’s death.

It had been almost 72 hours of pure hell and evil. Knowing that you are alive, after he had lost you for days and not been able to reach you, was the most evil type of torture.

He said a prayer, not for Meg or anyone else to find peace after what they had gone through. But for Robby’s plan to work. If it works, Jack will be coming home to you this evening. Because if it works, then Jack is never letting you out of his reach ever again.

Maybe he should now hold onto that flicker of hope that lingered in his chest.

The Escape

Robby parked up outside the manor entrance with Trinity in the car. “Have you said a prayer?”

“Me? Robinavitch? No I didn’t.”

“We need faith on our side, kid.”

“You have me and my brilliant mind.” She chuckles, “Let’s go, Dr Robinson.”

They get out of the car and ring the bell, and are greeted by one of the housekeepers. 

“Good morning.” Robby smiles, “I’m Dr Robinson, and this is my assistant, Dr Smith. We’re here for a home visit.”

“I’m not expecting you…”

“Oh, have they not told you?” Robby frowns. “It’s protocol for us to come visit 72 hours after discharge.”

“I’m gonna need to check with the family…” She doesn’t let them in and asks them to wait outside. 

“We’re screwed,” Robby mutters. 

“Have some faith. Robinavitch. Who’s going to answer their phone at a funeral?”

Minutes pass, and with every clock tick, Robby was sweating more and more. The door opens, and he stiffens. “They’re not answering.”

“It’s Megan’s funeral today, isn’t it?” Santos says softly, “What a sad, sad day. It’d be a shame if the other twin doesn’t get checked and something happens to her…”

The housekeeper freezes for a second, thinking about it. “You have 10 minutes.”

“Sure, we’ll be as quick as we can.” Trinity pushes past her and wastes no time. She takes them to a room located on the ground floor, luckily not too far from the entrance. She goes inside first, and informs you that there are two doctors here to speak with you.

"Tell them no." You blurt out, if it's not a name you know then there's no chance on earth they're coming anywhere near you, "No more doctors. I only care about one person."

The housekeeper informs them that you're refusing any more medical treatment.

"No problem", Trinity replies, and Robby shoots her a confused look.

You can hear mumbling outside and chatter, but what caught your attention was one of the doctors mentioning bringing you the wishing tree book you asked for. There is no book labelled The Wishing Tree. The housekeeper walks back, and you instantly blurt out, "Let them in. I changed my mind."

The moment you saw Robby step into that room, accompanied by one happy Trinity Santos, was the moment you could finally breathe. You thought your heart was about to give out at how happily it beat. You remained composed as they introduced themselves with alias names, and you let Robby carry out his fake checks.

"Hey, Lucy?" You turn over to her with a soft smile. "I feel like having some food. Do you think you can make me some of Mom's famous mashed-up food?"

"Sure. I won't be long."

You wait until the door clicks shut behind her, and you burst into tears. Robby takes you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you thought he was going to shatter your already broken bones.

"Robby-" you choke out, "Robby is Jack with you!"

"No, sweetheart, he isn't. He's at the funeral. Listen, we don't have time, we're here to-"

"Kidnap you!" Trinity claps her hands. "We're here to kidnap you! Is that okay!"

"Yes yes, please!!" you try and shift on the bed but your bandages and broken bones don't allow it. "But how?"

"We need a distraction." Robby says, "Something to occupy them while we take you to the car."

"Start a fire." You say quickly, "start a fucking fire."

For all the pain they caused you, a fire is nothing compared to what they deserve. Burn this entire manor down, along with everyone in it. A small part of you wonders if the universe would be upset with you over how angry you are at them. But what they have done to you was much worse.

"A-a fire?" Robby stutters.

"Fuck yeah!" Trinity adds, "kitchen?"

"Trin, how do you feel about microwaving a spoon?"

"Physics was never my strong point anyway." She blows you a kiss before running to the kitchen.

The reunion

"This is gonna hurt so much, I'm sorry.." Robby whispers as he carries you into the wheelchair. But your physical pain was nothing compared to the pain in your heart.

"Robby I called Jack so many times and... mom said he hates me."

"No offence kid, but your mom is a bitch and a liar."

You didn't think you were going to laugh this soon after going through so much trauma, but you found yourself hysterically laughing and crying.

"I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing kid. Jack can't wait to see you."

And that's when you finally let yourself hold onto that small flicker of hope. Seeing Jack and finally telling him how you feel. Because if facing death taught you one thing, it's to never take advantage of time. Time is precious, and you have lost enough of it without being with the man you love so much.

The escape plan worked, thanks to Trinity skipping physics class, and just as you drove away, you saw the fire brigade drive in the opposite direction. They drove you back to your apartment, and with every minute that passed, the excitement in your chest grew bigger and bigger. They wheeled you into the lounge, which was now changed. A hospital bed sat in the middle of the room, alongside monitors and equipment laid out neatly around it.

You are greeted by one happy very happy Parker and Mateo. "Oh my God!"

"You still need home care, kid." Robby says softly. "We're all taking turns to help."

"You guys... I don't know what to say."

"Save your words until Abbot gets here." Parker chuckles, slipping her arms under your back, while Robby takes your legs to move you to the bed. "He'll be here any minute."

"He's not here yet?" You have no more patience left.

"He was at the wake when we left but he should be here any minute. Told him not to drive fast."

"We don't want any more car accidents." Trinity jokes and for a second, no one laughs at the joke. Until you start hysterically laughing again and they all join in.

The front door burst wide open, and one very anxious Jack stood by the entrance.

That flicker of hope he was scared to hold onto? It burst in his chest like a firework. But now that he's here, standing in front of you, he chokes up on his words and freezes.

"Let's leave you two for a minute." Robby says quietly, ushering for everyone to leave the apartment.

"Is he gonna move or..." Trinity adds sarcastically but Robby holds onto her arm and drags her out.

"Hey, bunny." You say softly, "I'm back from the dead."

"Not funny..." Jack takes a small step toward you. He's too scared to move any faster, in case this was all a dream. Because if it is, he wants it to last as long as possible. "Hi, Bug."

"Your wish worked."

"I should have never doubted it." Jack blurts out before running over to the bed and taking you into his arms. "I never should have doubted that stupid tree."

The feeling of his warm and strong body against yours was everything you had ever wished for, the last 72 hours more than any other days.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry about everything." Jack murmurs, his voice shaky and broken, "i'm sorry for not doing more and for no-"

"Jack, shut up," you push him off you gently, "just shut up and-"

His lips crash on top of yours before you even get the chance to finish your sentence. You felt his desperation in the way he kissed you -- like a man who had been starved of love. His hands never moved away from your face, holding it tightly as if you were about to disappear again.

When he finally pulled back for a breath, his eyes were glossy and tired, like he hadn't stopped crying.

Jack hasn't stopped crying, and he doesn't think he ever will.

"I'm here, it's me," you blurt out.

Jack nods shakily before pressing his lips against yours again, a bit more gently this time. He takes in every touch and feeling, holding onto it as much as possible. He pulls back just slightly this time, leaving his lips just inches away. "I have so much to tell you."

"And we have all the time in the world," you mumble, one bandaged hand gently resting on his cheek.

"But first we have to do something.." Jack rasps out, "we have to call your parents."

The aftermath

Everyone was now back in the apartment, Jack sitting on a stool next to your bed, both hands holding yours.

"So now that you've been 'kidnapped'..." Robby attempts to air-quote, and Trinity snorts out loud, "The police will be informed."

"And they might be coming here." Jack adds, "But.. if we call your parents then that will save everyone the trouble."

"Call them." You say quickly, gesturing for someone to give you a phone. "Call the fuckers I have things to say."

Years of being treated terribly by them, being the spare child, the forgotten child, the mistreated child... it all came out the moment your mom picked up the phone. You don't even let her speak. She can't hurt you now; actually, no one can. Because as long as you're in this room, with Jack, then no one can.

"Shut up and let me talk." You interrupt her, yelling, "I never ever want to see you again. I never want to hear your voice or dad's. Do you understand what i'm saying?"

She continues yelling, but you cut in once more, "Congratulations, Mom. You lost both of your daughters. Enjoy living in guilt for the rest of your lonely and miserable life."

And with that you hang up the phone, closing a chapter of your life you never want to see again.

Loving you

"Do you want to go to sleep? Or stay up and watch a movie?" Jack's lying next to you on the hospital bed in your apartment, one hand draped over your stomach. He hasn't left your side since everyone left the apartment.

"I don't want to go to sleep... I've had enough of that, Jack. But I do want one thing."

"Anything" Jack murmurs, "I'd do anything for you."

"Please, can you move me to my bed? I've had enough of hospital beds and-"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me." Jack shifts on the bed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Anything you need."

"Oh, and one more thing." You turn your head to face him, "I need you to never leave me, Jack."

Jack smiles softly, whispering against your lips, "I promise to never leave your side. I promise to always be there for you. And I promise you one more thing... you might think i'm crazy..."

"We're all a little bit crazy.."

"I love you, bug. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it. I’m sorry it took losing you for me to finally understand what’s been in my heart this whole time. And I’m crazy for saying this now and here and somewhere more romantic but..”

“I love you too Jack,” you whisper back, not taking your eyes off him for a minute. You take in all his features, and that sparkle in his eyes that was lost? It was back. Your Jack was back.

"I'm proud of you for fighting to stay here, especially with me."

"When they told me that I was allowed to see you... I don't ever want to go through that again."

"And you never will have to. Because as long as I'm here, you are too."

"There's no breaking us now."

"Exactly, Bug. Exactly."

The wishing tree once again did not fail you.

Three months later

You woke up to the sound of music, playing from the kitchen, and you could’ve sworn Jack was singing. You move slowly out of bed, joints still protesting movements, and bones still recovering from the fractures, and eventually stand up on your own. Slowly and carefully, you make it over to the kitchen and stand silently watching Jack sing to himself as he made breakfast. He has joggers on with no T-shirt, and a kitchen towel draped over one shoulder. What a beautiful sight to wake up to, you thought. He looks happy, matching that same feeling you’ve had in your chest these past few months.

“Morning sunshine.” You say, startling Jack mid dance move.

His face lights up the moment he sees you, a big smile breaking across his face. “Morning, my love. Sorry, was the music too loud?”

“Never.” If facing death taught you another thing, is that happiness can never be too loud. “Need a hand?”

Jack smirks as he approaches you, eyes scanning you from head to toe. Without a warning, he picks you up with both hands and walks you over to the counter. “You can sit and supervise.”

“But-“

“No buts, sweetheart, no buts.”

“But I wanted to dance…”

“We are going dancing. Later tonight, actually.” Jack had a date planned for the two of you, but he refused to spoil any details, despite your begging.

“You still won’t tell me where we’re going!”

“It’s called a surprise.”

“I love surprises…”

“You’re terrible at waiting for them though. No questions!”

“But-“ His lips find yours, a quick and efficient way of keeping you quiet. It worked; it always worked. Every day, his touch doesn’t fail to amaze you. You haven’t felt love like this before, or have known love to be this electric or exciting. “I’m gonna keep asking.”

“And I’m gonna keep kissing.”

“Exactly” you giggle, “more protesting means more kissing.”

“Sneaky.” He murmurs.

“I’d say clever.”

“That you are, baby. Hungry?”

“Is that a euphemism?” You tease.

“I meant food, but I have all day so…” his kiss is hungry, and certainly not for food.

Later that day, as promised, Jack was going to take you dancing. But first, he doesn’t let you leave the house because he can’t keep his hands to himself.

“Jack stop” you giggle as you push him off, “can you help me with shoes please?”

“I’ll get down there, sure.” He smirks, moving away from your neck slowly, which is red and wet from the way he had devoured it like a dessert.

“Not like that!”

“We have time…”

“You’ve been satisfied plenty.”

He moves back to your neck, whispers slowly against your skin, “but I can’t get enough.”

“Jack we’re gonna miss the reservation!”

“Fine, but I’m picking up where we left off when we come home tonight.” He kisses your neck once more, before finally moving to help you out shoes on, “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“I don’t think you did…” you tease him.

He’s down on one knee, slipping your shoes on, he murmurs “you are what dreams are made of..”

You giggle, “you look like you’re about to propose.”

“What?” Jack looks up at you, colour draining from his face immediately. Like he had seen a ghost.

An awkward pause, then Jack shifts his attention back to the shoes, and you frown at his reaction. “It’s a joke, Jack…” you mutter under your breath.

The car ride to the secret date location was painfully quiet, and despite your pestering about what was wrong with him, he insisted he was fine. Maybe joking about getting married, this close to what he had gone through, was not the best idea.

He pulled up outside a small house, not a restaurant like you expected, and you sat in the car for a minute.

Another awkward stretch of silence follows.

"Shall we get out of the car or....?"

"Uh- yeah sure." Jack clears his throat before unclipping the seat belt and getting out of the car. You watch him as he puffs his cheeks out and shakes his head as he walks around the car to your side.

Yeah, mentioning marriage was definitely not a clever idea.

He carefully helps you out of the car and walks you over to the door. "Whose is this?" You ask him.

"It's uh... let's take a look inside. Then you can tell me what you think."

He pulls out keys from his pocket and walks in first, flicking the light switch on.

"This is beautiful." The house is the complete opposite of the manor. "Jack, did you-"

"Yeah, I did. I got it for us." Jack says nervously. "It's small but I figured.. a smaller house is much nicer than a manor."

"Oh Jack..." Your hands hover over your mouth in surprise at how simple and cosy the house felt. You're speechless at how well he had pulled this off. And absolutely blown away by how much love he has for you. "Does it have a garden?"

"A beautiful one, actually." He pulls out an eye mask from his pocket. "Let's see the garden first, then we'll go upstairs."

He gestures for you to turn around so he can put the eye mask on.

“Are you kidnapping me again?”

“Been there done that. And I’d do it all again if I have to.”

"Do I have to put it on?"

"It's part of the surprise." He stands behind you, carefully helping you put it on. His hands wrap around your waist, puling you flush against him. He trails kisses down your neck and shoulder, his beard stubble tickling your bare skin, sending an electrifying shiver down your spine.

You melt at his touch, at the way he always takes his time kissing your neck. How he doesn't suck too hard, but enough for you to moan something in response. "Ready, bug?"

"Always," you whisper weakly, still recovering from his kisses.

He guides you somewhere slowly, telling you to be careful of steps and turns until you're standing still. As he takes the blindfold off, the violin starts playing.

You are standing under a big tree, with the grounds covered in candles and white roses, and fairy lights hanging down from the tree and all around the house. A man sits on a chair, playing Can’t Help Calling in Love with You. “Oh my God” you whisper. “You’re-“

“Please just this once.. let me do the talking?” Jack whispers back.

He takes his hands in yours, and softly says, “My whole life I’ve searched for what it means to be loved, and be in love. It has taken me a very long time — a lot of grey hairs in fact, and so many tears to find it. But I’m so happy I finally did.”

“My love for you grows with every beat of my heart and every second that passes. I’m crazy about you, but I’m also crazy in general." He jokes, and you nervously giggle in response. "I love you with every fibre of my being."

“I promise to love you every day for the rest of my earthly life, and for whatever comes after. I promise to never leave your side, and to always worship the ground you walk on. Because you deserve it, bug. You deserve all the happiness and love in the world, if you let me show you. I promise to find you in every lifetime, and love you more and more each time.

He carefully gets down on one knee, "Please make me the happiest man in this universe and marry me?"

A screech escapes you, and you immediately drop down to your knees, "Yes, Jack, yes yes yes!!"

6 months later

Jack's sitting on the kitchen barstool, holding onto a piece of paper from his doctor that he never thought he'd see. A life-changing result. He hears you approach and quickly tucks it into his scrub pocket, deciding he will tell you about it after your shift tonight.

"Ready to go Dr Abbot?" he asks you.

"Still not used to the name," you giggle. "But i'm so happy I never have to use my own name again."

"I'm happy you're happy." Jack murmurs, "That's all I ever wanted."

"And that's all you'll ever get."

He holds onto that promise, along with a small flicker of hope he hadn't felt since your accident.

Hours later at PTMC, you start to feel unwell. It could have been the long hours, or the long recovery from your accident, or a million other things, but you brush it off and carry on with the night. Until you're in the room with a patient, mumbling gibberish at them, gripping onto their bedside to stop you from falling to the ground. The patient, who lucky was mobile, manages to get hold of you before falling to the ground and yells for help.

The moment Jack sees you slumped over, he's convinced he's about to lose you again.

"Hey Dr Abbot?" Parker asks you the moment you're laid onto a bed in one of the rooms, "wanna tell me what's going on?"

"The... world is spinning Parker." you whisper, "I feel so sick."

Jack's in shock, standing in the corner of the room watching Parker do the assessment. He has been down this road before, and he literally lost you and had you again. He's convinced someone's gonna come through the doors and steal you away.

"When did it start?"

"Dunno... keeps coming and going." you sob at how ill you feel, "J-jack?"

"He's in shock; give him a minute." Parker forces a smile; Mateo's on the other side, taking your bloods. "Any other symptoms?"

"I feel sick, like i'm about to vomit."

"How long for?"

"Again comes and goes...Please, can you just check on Jack"

Parker doesn't ask about pregnancy, given that everyone's aware of Jack's history with infertility. Instead, she says, "Dr Abbot, wanna hold your wife's hand?" Jack doesn't respond. Instead, he's seeing flashbacks of you in the ICU bed. He's back in that room, and this time, people are yelling at him instead of him yelling at the body on the bed. What was real and what was not? Are you really here? Is someone about to kidnap you? Is this all a dream? "Guess not."

"Jack please-" you cry out for him but he still doesn't move.

Parker abruptly stops what she's doing and walks over to him. Without a word, she slaps him, loud enough for it to make a noise that echoes, hard enough to wake him out of his flashback.

"S-sorry" Jack blinks a few times, looking around the room, "did- uh- did- shit."

"Hold her hand now. Otherwise i'm slapping you again."

He nods shakily and walks over to your side, "sorry baby just uh- it's um."

"I know Jack, but we're here. I'm safe and no one can get to us now."

He manages a nod, takes your hand in his hands, resting it just in front of his chin, kissing it gently.

"Stats are fine, BP a bit low but it could be for many reasons. Let's wait for bloods. In the meantime, stay here."

"Uh, Parker, what about pregnancy?" Jack asks.

You look at Parker in surprise, matching her same exact reaction. "I didn't ask because you know..."

"Jack, I'm not Meg - I would never-!" Your eyes are immediately tearing up; he thinks you'd cheat on him? "I promise you I would never cheat-"

Jack cuts in, "it's me."

You immediately pull your hand away from him, eyes glancing over to Parker, who has the look of rage on her face, "You fucking cheated?!!?"

"What! No-no I didn't! The pregnancy I uh-" Jack reaches into his scrub pocket and pulls out the piece of paper. "This came in the mail this morning."

Parker snatches it out of his hand, saving you the heartbreak of whatever is in the piece of paper. She reads through it quickly, then smirks, "Oh damn. Dr Abbot is one happy and healthy man."

"Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on right this second!!" you snap at them.

"Girl I think you're pregnant." Parker chuckles.

"Again I did not cheat-"

"It's Jack. His sperm count is in the millions."

"What...?"

Jack nervously chuckles, "I uh... saw my doctor last week. I wanted to retest... just to be sure. It turns out all I needed was to be happy for the little guys to get to work... "

"I'm pregnant?" you ask both of them in rage, "get me a fucking machine right now!"

"Oh I don't need to scan you, the pregnancy rage is all over your face, girl."

"Dr Ellis I swear-" you start to yell, then stop. Oh fuck. That explains the mood swings. The nausea. Why eggs tasted like snot all of a sudden.

A few minutes later, Parker's scanning your lower abdomen, Jack watching your face instead of the screen, admiring the woman he loves so much.

"Jack" you whisper, lips parting slightly in surprise at the little blob on the screen, "Jack, look!"

"It's a tiny baby" he chokes out after finally looking at the screen, "it's our baby."

"Mommy! Want the blue ones!"

Three years old Maya was standing up in the shopping cart, her small face flushed red as she reached wildly for a box of sugary cereal on a shelf way out of reach.

"Maya, baby, sit down please," you said, your voice sounding strange to your own ears. It felt thick. "We have cereal at home. Sit down before you fall."

"No! Want!" She began to kick her legs, her lower lip trembling into a full blown meltdown.

You rubbed your forehead. A cold prickle of sweat broke out along the back of your neck. You felt hot, then suddenly freezing. Your brain felt sluggish.

I need to check my phone, you thought vaguely. The sensor...

Maya let out a piercing shriek, tears bursting from her eyes as she tried to climb out of the cart entirely.

Panic spiked in your chest.

"Okay, okay, calm down, come here," you breathed, stepping forward to lift her out.

The moment you bent down and scooped Maya into your arms, the world tilted sideways.

Your knees gave out instantly. The physical exertion of lifting her hit your body, draining whatever trace of glucose was left in your bloodstream.

Oh god, you thought, terror seizing you. Not now. Not with her.

You collapsed in slow motion, sliding down the side of the metal shelf and hitting the floor, pulling Maya tightly against your chest so she wouldn't hit the ground.

Maya tumbled onto your lap, unharmed but terrified by the sudden drop. Her tiny fingers clutched your shirt as she began to sob hysterically. "Mommy? Mommy, up! Up!"

You couldn't move. Your body was betraying you at a terrifying speed. Heavy, leaden weakness pinned you to the floor. Your heart was hammering an irregular rhythm against your ribs, and a violent tremor took over your hands.

"M-Maya..." you rasped. Your tongue felt twice its normal size.

You fumbled blindly for the phone in your pocket, your hands shaking so badly you nearly dropped it twice. With blurred vision, you tapped the screen. The glucose sensor app opened, flashing a bright red warning with a single word:

LOW

No number.

Just LOW.

It meant you were under 40 mg/dL and dropping fast.

You knew you were crashing, hard.

The cold metal of the lowest shelf bit into your back, but it was the only thing keeping you upright. You were sat slumped against it, legs stretched uselessly out on the floor. The heavy weight of severe hypoglycemia was pulling you under.

But you were still conscious. Still clinging to the edges of awareness by a thread.

Maya wasn't throwing a tantrum anymore, she was scared. Her tiny world had completely shattered in the span of three seconds.

Mama was the person who fixed scraped knees, who rocked her to sleep, who always made things okay. Seeing you sitting limply on the floor, trembling, broke something inside her.

"Mama! Mommy!"

Maya was on her knees in front of you, her small hands tugging frantically at your sleeves. Her face was soaked in tears, her little body shaking with terror.

"Help! Help my mommy!" she shrieked, turning her eyes toward the strangers gathering at the end of the aisle. "She sick!"

"Sweetheart, don't pull on her, okay? It's okay," a woman knelt down beside you. "Can you hear me? Can you stand?"

"N-no..." The word fought its way past your heavy tongue. You managed a tiny shake of your head, your eyes were glassy with panic. "Can't... Low."

With hands shaking violently you could barely coordinate your fingers but you held up your phone. The screen flickered, displaying the blood sugar monitor app with the bold LOW reading.

"Oh you're diabetic!" the woman gasped, reading the screen. She looked up and yelled down the aisle to an employee, "Call an ambulance! Her blood sugar is crashing!"

"Mommy, up!" Maya sobbed, patting your arm. She was hiccuping hysterically. "Mama, please... want Daddy... help my Mommy!"

"It's okay, baby... I'm... I'm here..." you slurred, every single word costing an immense amount of energy. You squeezed her as tight as your failing muscles allowed. "Mama's... here..."

A shopper ran up, breathlessly dropping a bottle of orange juice beside you. "Here! This could work, is she conscious?"

"Yes, but barely," the woman said frantically. She twisted the cap off the juice, her hands trembling as she brought it to your lips. "I need you to take a sip, okay? Can you swallow?"

"M-yeah..." you breathed as the woman carefully tipped the juice into your mouth.

The sirens cut through the supermarket parking lot. By the time the two paramedics rushed in, the orange juice had started to trickling a tiny fraction of glucose back into you. The pitch fog was beginning to lift, though your body still felt like lead.

"Give us some room, please," the lead paramedic called out as he dropped to his knees beside you.

You were still sitting slumped against the shelf, but your eyes were clearer now, no longer completely unfocused. You held Maya tightly against your lap her sobbing had quieted into hiccups, she refused to let go of you.

"Hey there, I'm Marcus," the paramedic said gently. "Store manager said you're diabetic?"

"Yes, Type 1," you murmured, your voice raspy and weak, but coherent. "My sensor read LOW."

"Okay. We're going to check you out," the second paramedic, Sarah, said as she pulled out a glucometer and a blood pressure cuff. "You managed to get some juice down?"

"A few sips... maybe half the bottle," you whispered, resting your head against the metal shelf behind you.

Sarah prepped a finger stick test to confirm the numbers while the other paramedic wrapped the cuff around your arm. "Alright, let's see where we're at... Okay, 57. It's coming up. Blood pressure is pretty low, 90 over 60, and your heart rate is running fast."

Maya fixed her eyes on the paramedics with fresh panic. "Don't hurt my Mommy" she whimpered.

"It's okay, baby... they're helping..." you soothed weakly.

Marcus eye leveled with Maya, offering her a smile. "Hey little one, we're not going to hurt her, I promise. We're just making sure she's safe."

He looked back up at you, his tone shifting to professional concern. "Because your sugar dropped so fast, along with your pressure, we can't just leave you here. With a drop that severe, your body is depleted. You could easily rebound crash in another twenty minutes once that juice wears off."

"I... I can just go home," you tried to plead softly, feeling an anxious lump form in your throat. "I just need to..."

"I hear you, but medical protocol for a severe symptomatic hypo like this requires a full evaluation," Marcus explained firmly but kindly. "We need to get you to the hospital for a full check-up to monitor you."

That ment take you to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.

Your stomach flipped. Jack was on duty right now, probably in the middle of a chaotic shift, completely unaware that his wife had collapsed in a grocery store with their baby girl screaming beside her.

"Okay," you breathed. "Just... please don't separate me from my daughter."

"Not a chance," Sarah smiled warmly, reaching out to help lift you carefully onto the gurney while Marcus gently guided Maya.

On the back of the ambulance, you were propped up on the stretcher with an IV line taped securely to the back of your hand.

Beside you, sitting safely, Maya was still holding onto you.

"How are we feeling?" Sarah asked from across the cabin, adjusting the monitor that tapped out your steadying heart rate.

"Better," you breathed, giving her a smile. "A lot better."

"Good. Blood sugar is up to 70 now, but we'll let the hospital team get you fully stabilized." Sarah turned her attention to Maya, the toddler'a little chest was occasionally catching on a residual hiccup. "And how about you, little lady? You were pretty brave back there."

Maya blinked at the woman. "Mommy... my mommy 's okay?"

"Mama is doing great, sweetie. We just need to do a little check up," Sarah reached into a cabinet and pulled out a latex glove, blowing it up like a balloon and tying off the end. With a marker, she quickly drew a smiley face on it. "Here. A glove pal to guard Mama."

Maya stared at the puffy rubber hand. She slowly reached out her hands to take it. "Silly hand," she whispered.

"Silly hand is on duty," Sarah smiled warmly. "He's going to help us drive to the hospital."

"My Daddy work at hospital," Maya offered suddenly, hugging the glove face to her chest. "Daddy fix people."

Sarah chuckled softly, assuming it was just toddler imagination. "Is that right? Well, today the doctors are going to fix up your mommy."

Minutes later, the ambulance entered the hospital. it's was late afternoon so day shift were swapping charts with night shift staff. The paramedics pushed your stretcher through the automatic doors, Marcus holding your IV bag high while Sarah guided Maya, who was tightly clutching her blown up glove.

"Trauma 2 is open! Bring her there," Dana called out, waving the paramedics down without looking at them.

They wheeled you into Trauma 2, rapidly transferring you to the hospital bed while Sarah began her handoff to the day shift residents, waiting for an attending. "Female, mid-thirties, severe symptomatic hypoglycemia, Type 1 diabetic..."

Just across the hall, Trauma 1 was emptying out after treating a heart attack.

Jack let out a sigh, removed his surgical gloves, and threw them into the container. He rubbed his tired eyes with his palms for a moment. It had taken about half an hour to stabilize the victim, but they had managed to save his life. The shift change was in twenty minutes, and all he wanted was to clock in, and go home to Maya and you before heading back for his night shift.

That was when he heard it.

A piercing sound echoed down the ER.

"DADDY!"

Jack blinked, shaking his head slightly.

I'm hallucinating, he thought. I'm just exhausted.

"MOMMY! WANT DADDY!"

That voice was unmistakable for him. It was the distinct, desperate, pitch voice of his daughter.

Jack spun around and, directly across from him, the doors to Trauma 2 were wide open. A primary care nurse and a paramedic were standing near the foot of a gurney, while a second nurse was trying gently to comfort a hysterical toddler who was kicking her tiny sneakers against the floor.

"Maya?!" Jack’s voice cracked.

The little girl turned at the sound of his voice. Her red teared face lit up, and she instantly broke away from the nurse's gentle grip, sprinting clumsily across the floor with her arms stretched out.

"DADDY!" she sobbed, throwing her entire body against him. "Daddy! Help Mama! Mama sick!"

He lifted his head, his gaze shooting into Trauma 2. There, with an IV line running into the back of your hand, was you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as he scooped Maya up into his arms, pulling her tightly against his neck as he strode straight into Trauma 2, his eyes never leaving your face.

You looked completely exhausted, your lips still slightly pale, but your eyes locked onto his.

"Jack..." you whispered softly, giving him a small smile.

"Dr. Abbot?" the nurse in Trauma 2 blinked in total confusion, holding your chart. "Oh, says Mrs Abbot, wait... is this your family?"

"Yes," Jack said. "Yes, she’s my wife."

He didn't wait for the nurse's shocked reaction. Jack pulled Maya deeper into his chest, her small frame still trembling violently with sobs.

"I've got you, bug. Daddy's here," Jack murmured into her hair. His free hand reached out, his thumb sweeping gently over your cheek. "Jesus. What happened, baby?"

"Dropped... fast, again," you breathed, leaning your head weakly into his touch. "We were at the store... I couldn't stop it in time."

Before Jack could ask anything else, Robby arrived alongside Dr. Santos. Robby took one look at Jack holding a crying toddler, looked at you on the gurney, and pieced it together in half a second.

"Oh, well, look who we got here." Robby said smoothly. "You know the rules, brother. You're family on this one. Let us work."

"Robby, she has been-" Jack started.

"Jack. I know. Step aside," Robby interrupted firmly, placing a gentle hand on Jack's shoulder, steering him a step back from the bed. "We got her. Santos, let's do a complete analysis: full blood count, complete metabolic profile, blood glucose, the whole basic protocol for hyperglycemia. Let's make sure she doesn't suffer a rebound effect or develop DKA, just fluids for a moment untilyou check her glucose."

"On it," Dr. Santos quickly agreed, pulling out a new glucometer and prepping a kit while Robby grabbed a stethoscope to listen to your lungs and heart.

"Stop scaring Abbot with this episodes, it's like the third hypo this week, isn't it?"

"You know I can't fully control them, Robinavitch."

"Last name, okay, seems like you're breathing good."

"Shut up." you said to him, you had this hate-love friend relationship with your husband's friend.

Maya saw Santos reaching for your arm with a needle and let out a whisper. "NO! Don't hurt Mama! Daddy, stop them!"

Jack held her tighter, soothing her.

"Shh, bug, it's okay," Jack pleaded softly, he wiped a tear from her flushed cheek with his thumb. "They're helping Mommy, okay? Remember Dr. Robby? He's Daddy's friend. He's just making sure her blood sugar goes back to where it belongs."

"Is Mom sick?" Maya hiccuped, her fingers digging into the collar of his scrubs.

"Mama's sugar just got super low, bug," Jack whispered, kissing the top of her head while keeping his eyes glued to the monitor over your head as Santos drew your blood. "She's going to be okay."

You watched them, feeling the sting of the lab draw on your arm, but the sight of Jack cradling Maya brought a reassuring warmth and calm into your chest.

--

The soft lighting of the private exam room was a welcome relief from the bright lights of the trauma bay.

By the time Dr. Robby signed off on your discharge papers, your blood sugar and pressure had safely stabilized. The weakness in your body had dissolved into fatigue, and the color had fully returned to your face.

"All right, sweetheart, labs look great, balanced, and you are officially cleared to go home," Robby said, flashing a warm smile as he handed the discharge summary to Jack. He clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Take her home, brother. I will cover you tonight."

"Thanks, man. I owe you one," Jack said.

Minutes later, after a nurse came to take off your IV, the door creaked open, and in marched Maya, carrying a paper bag from the hospital cafeteria with both hands held high.

"Mama! Look! Look what I got!" she squealed, her previous terror completely forgotten.

Jack followed close behind her, holding a cup of coffee with a smile playing on his lips. "Someone got an award in the cafeteria for helping Mom today," he murmured, coming closer to the bed, sitting Maya on the bed and putting his arm around your waist, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. "Are you okay, beautiful?"

"I'm feeling better," you smiled, leaning into his touch before turning to your daughter. "What do you have there, my love?"

Maya carefully reached into the bag and pulled out a wrapped bakery item. "A cookie!" she announced proudly, showing off a giant chocolate chip cookie.

Then, she reached back into the bag and pulled out a second wrapped oat pastry. She shoved it toward your hands. "And this one for you! Daddy said no... no sugar cookie for Mama's sugar!"

You blinked, looking up at Jack, who rubbed your hip with care.

"She refused to leave the cafeteria until she picked one out specifically for you," Jack explained softly. "She told the cashier, 'Mama's sugar crashed, and now she has sugar on her, so she needs the special one.'"

Your heart melted right there. "Oh, baby... thank you."

Maya giggled, happily. "Mama better!"

"Yeah, baby, Mama is good now," Jack whispered, leaning down to scoop Maya into his lap and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. "Alright," Jack said. "Let's go, my little monster. Mama needs to go home and get some sleep, and I'm taking the night off."

Jack lifted Maya in his arms and sat her on his hip. He put the discharge papers in his backpack pocket as you stood up.

Maya’s eyes went wide, her hands instantly clapping together. "Daddy staying home?! No hospital?"

"No hospital," Jack confirmed, smiling. "I'm all yours."

Maya leaned against him and then she turned on the full force of her irresistible puppy dog eyes. "Can we have hamburgers, Daddy? Please? Big hamburgers?"

Jack groaned rolling his eyes playfully. "Hamburgers? Well... I suppose after the afternoon you've had, we can manage hamburgers."

You shook your head, a laugh bubbling up from your chest as you took his free hand and leaned against his shoulder, walking slowly toward the exit.

"She has you totally wrapped around her finger, Abbot," you murmured. "You're lucky I'm too exhausted to fight you on it."

Jack looked at you, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. "I'm lucky," he whispered, pulling you a little closer to his side to kiss the top of your head. "In every important way."

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

As you stored Mr Hutson’s body, you made conversation with the pretty quiet guy.

“Not a big talker, huh?”

You took a deeper voice as you answered for him.

“Yeah, got pretty silent after my heart stopped beating.”

“I get it. Sorry, it’s a little cold down there.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” you replied to yourself.

“You’re welcome, Mr Hutson! Let me just place this name tag-“

“Sorry to interrupt,” Lena apologized as she entered the morgue.

“You’re not! Or are you?” You joked, making her form a small smile before she rolled a body in the room.

“I got another body. The heatwaves are the worst killers right now.”

“Then arrest them!” You laughed. Alone.

“…Okay.”

“Not a good joke, I presume.”

“Not your best, honey,” she reacted.

You nodded and stayed silent. She was probably waiting for you to continue talking because she didn’t utter a word. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as you ran your fingers through the deceased person’s hair.

“Female, sixty-two. Pronounced dead at 3:41.”

“What’s her name?” You asked as you placed her hair to look a little more kept.

“Caroline Hughes. Hard death…”

“Well… At least she’s not paying taxes anymore!”

The ER nurse looked at you without adding anything else. This stare was enough to make you realize that it wasn’t the right time to say that, apparently.

“It sounded funnier in my head… Sorry…”

“I’ll go back.”

“Okay, see you!”

As the door closed and you were the only living person in the room, you turned to Mrs Hughes.

“Was that this terrible of a joke?”

This time, you used a higher pitch to mimic her voice.

“Yes.”

“I’m just trying to make her like me a little,” you explained as you started the usual routine you had with the bodies.

“She will!”

“I hope so…“

You eventually gathered a pile of documents that needed to be signed by an ER attending physician after receiving a death in the morgue. It made you smile to think about seeing him. Jack Abbot has been your work crush since forever. That pile of work meant having an interaction with him. It was something you never missed. He was kind and gentle with patients. Plus, he wasn’t awkward, which is pretty good when you’re dealing with alive ones.

You walked to his department while humming a song. You smiled at your coworkers without much success and spotted him in trauma 1.

You knew that it was way more important than your boring papers, so you waited while looking at him. He was able to control the room like a professional.

You waited for a moment. The case was long and complicated, so you just stared at him.

“What are you doing here?” Mateo asked as he went from one room to the other.

“I need Dr Abbot’s signature.”

“He’ll get to you,” he simply answered as he left.

“No rush, my patients aren’t the impatient kinds!”

He faked a polite laugh and left.

You waited for a long time without a complaint. Suddenly, he left the room with a sigh. It was a long one, but the patient was alive.

“Hey, Dr Abbot, just needed you to sign this!” You started, with a little too much energy to your tone.

He nodded and signed it without much thought.

As you held the clipboard with the documents, you couldn’t help but make conversation. It’s been a while since you talked to him.

“So… Busy?”

He silently looked at you. He’d normally have a cocky answer to stuff like that, but his mind wasn’t really present after the trauma bay.

“Actually, don’t answer that! It was the dumbest question I could’ve asked.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a night. And it’s not ended yet.”

“I’ve gathered… Because you know… The people here.”

He nodded and looked at the TV. It should’ve been your cue to leave, but you had some sort of invisible force that kept you there.

“I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. It sounded a little sarcastic.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Oh?”

What did it mean? Did he lie to make you feel better? Maybe that you truly didn’t sound sarcastic.

The silence made you go crazy, so you continued.

“Thanks for the signature.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he awkwardly smiled as you left.

Once you were out of sight, Henderson came with a tablet to present a case.

“What do you got?”

“17-year-old male, found unresponsive in a closed bedroom, no ventilation or AC. Prolonged heat exposure suspected.”

“Where is he?”

“South 2, resus bay.”

They quickly walked toward the room and began the process of resuscitation for forty five minutes. Jack hated to see young patients go. It was unfair that they had to die at such a young age.

He had his whole life ahead of him…

As he left the room with sweat covering all of his body, he took the red phone to call the family. It was important to do it himself. He owed them that.

“I know this is really hard… We’ll take care of everything on our end,” he reassured in a gentle tone.

After the call, he just needed to take a break. One little break to ground himself.

He was safe, he was competent, and he did everything he could.

He was safe, he was competent, and he did everything he could.

He was safe, he was competent, and he did everything he could.

As he sat down with this mantra in his head, you came back. This time, however, it wasn’t to talk to him but to the charge nurse.

“Hi, it’s me again! I was just wondering if we kept Mrs Hughes’s wedding ring on. You forgot to mention it, and I forgot to ask.”

“Oh, right. You keep it on.”

“Are you okay? You look exhausted!”

“Tonight was rough.”

“Oh… At least I know I have job security,” you kidded to relieve some tension from her shoulders.

Lena let out a small chuckle that made you feel proud.

Jack heard you say that. Job security? People were dying, and you joked about it?

He approached you, and Lena wasted no time going back to charting as he started talking.

“You think that’s funny?” He inquired with his arms behind his back in fake confidence.

“What?” You asked, not understanding that he referenced your encounter with the nurse. “Oh, with Lena?”

“Do you ever stop the jokes?”

“It wasn’t-“

“I lost a kid tonight. Stop with your fucking jokes every time someone dies.” He dryly ordered.

“I wasn’t making fun of-” you tried to defend, but he didn’t care and cut you off.

“Then act like it.”

“…Okay.”

It’s not like he was the first one to say things like that. You knew you were a little weird and that your jokes didn’t always land. You weren’t oblivious at that point. However, having Jack say it was hurtful. Very hurtful.

Surely he wasn’t the person you had the strongest connection to, but you didn’t expect him to say it like that.

Lena stood nearby. She didn’t say a word. Perhaps she secretly agreed with him. He said what everyone wanted to say. You would have friends if people didn’t think of you like that.

You left to go back to the morgue. The only people who spent time with you didn’t even have the choice to be there. How much of a loser could you be?

Jack sat on a desk chair to begin his endless charting. Lena quietly sat down next to him.

“That was harsh.”

“She crossed a line,” he argued.

“Did she?”

“People are grieving, and she’s acting like it’s a comedy show,” he defended.

“She just tries to cheer up the mood of everyone. You should see her with patients. She's caring, empathetic… And sometimes she can make a joke land.”

Jack stayed silent, just like the morgue was when you first started working here. You didn’t say anything to Mrs Hughes as you carefully placed the diamond of her ring on the top of her finger.

──୨୧──

“Pretty silent in here,” Lena said as she rolled in a new body some days later.

“Yeah,” you responded with a small smile.

“Ran out of jokes?”

You didn’t answer. Not knowing how to.

“Because of Jack?”

“Maybe.”

“You know he was out of line.”

“Was he?” You asked, making her frown.

“He was.”

“He wasn’t the first one to tell me I’m weird.”

“Then why does it bother you so much?”

“I don’t know… I… I guess I’d like for people to try to understand who I am before jumping to the conclusion that I’m weird and that’s it.”

“Well, I’m no Jack Abbot, but I don’t think you’re only weird if that can help.”

“Thanks… It means a lot, Lena.”

You continued to work until the end of your shift. You had to stay overtime because of a car crash that only caused fatalities.

Jack had to bring the paperwork he’d normally have a med student bring at the end of their shift. With the recent events, you doubted he would bring them himself anyway.

That’s why you were taken by surprise when he actually showed up. He looked exhausted and a little less confident than usual.

“Hey, kid,” he started as he placed the pile of paper on your desk while you were arranging a body.

“Hi.”

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Huh, yeah,“ you nervously replied, biting your bottom lip.

“I was wrong for speaking to you like that. I thought I understood what I was seeing,” he explained before taking accountability for his actions. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“Okay,” you added as you fidgeted with the blanket of the body.

“Okay?”

“I forgive you… It just stung a bit…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine… Time heals, right?”

“Right,” he answered as he turned his wedding ring on his finger, making you realize the mess you made.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bring back old memories.”

“Don’t worry about it; I like having them back.”

You smiled as you stored the body of the woman you were taking care of.

“I get what you mean,” you mentioned, having dealt with a lot of grieving families.

“Guess we’re both carrying more than we let on,” he added with a lighter tone.

“Yeah… Shoulders getting heavy,” you joked as you took off your gloves.

He giggled at your dumb joke and went to the door with you.

“Mind if we walk to your car?”

“I don’t.“

As you walked through the hospital, you noticed how friendly everyone was with him. People never acted like that with you. Not that you were bullied, but you barely got any smiles, even fewer greetings.

Your gaze turned to the man beside you. He had a good reputation. Why would he ruin it by hanging out with someone like you? He must feel very bad to do that to himself.

“So… What happens after I sign?” He asked to make conversation and learn more about what you do.

“We put it in the archives of the hospital.”

“I know that part,” he laughed, making you feel dumb. “I wasn’t clear. I meant: what happens to the body after I sign.”

“Oh, sorry. Well, we identify the body really well. Identification mistakes are absolutely terrible!”

“Must be,” he acknowledged as he continued to walk while looking at you.

“Unless the coroner needs to do an exam, we clean the body really well. That’s my favourite part. We make them look presentable for the loved ones.”

“You like that?”

“Yeah, the whole ‘caring of the body’ aspect is really important. It honors the life of the deceased.”

“And you do it well.”

You turned your head toward him with furrowed brows. He was never there during this step, so how could he know?

As if reading your mind, he explained himself.

“Someone told me.”

“Oh, Lena… She also told you to apologize, I presume.”

“She helped me see what I missed. Your jokes looked disrespectful to me. I understood it’s not.”

“Good. It’s not.”

You arrived at your car and waved him goodbye.

“Seeing you tomorrow?” You asked because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut to save your life.

“Yes, sleep well.”

On the road to your home, you thought about everything he said. It was sweet to see how bad he felt. You’ve been treated worse with little to no remorse.

During your next few shifts at the morgue, you noticed that Jack was coming to your department a little more.

“I brought his belongings,” Jack said as he showed a plastic bag filled with bloody objects.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Where do I put it?”

“Huh… On my desk?” You started before thinking of something funny. “It's not like it has legs to run away from there!”

Jack chuckled and gently placed the bag in an empty spot on your desk.

“So, how’s tonight treating you?”

“It’s fine… Got a kid from peds though… It stung…”

“Yeah, I can imagine. Don’t let it pull you down. They’re all in a better place.”

“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

“Good, keep doing that. Do you need a break from work?”

“No, no, I should be done at 7 am. I’ll be fine; it’s pretty soon.”

“Cool, we finish at the same time if you want me to walk you to your car again…?”

“Oh, yeah… Ummm, I mean you already apologized for the whole ‘disrespectful jokes’ thing so you really don’t need to continue feeling bad.”

“I want to walk you to your car. There’s no ‘feeling bad’ there.”

Even if he said that, you had difficulty believing him. It broke too much of his calm and controlled persona for him to be done after a simple apology.

“Are you completely sure?”

“Certain.”

“Okay, fine. Then yes, I’m down.”

When your shift ended, you went to the ER with your bag. Dana was already here.

“Hi sweetie! Long time no see, how’ve you been?”

“Good, still a very… Interactive job,” you joked, even if you searched the attending with your eyes. “Abbot wanted to walk me to my car. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s changing in the bathroom.“

“Oh… Okay. I’ll wait for him.”

She went right back to work, and you sat down while waiting for him. You tried to ignore the strange looks the staff gave you.

“What is the weird morgue girl doing here?” A nurse asked her friend.

They probably thought you couldn’t hear them, so you pretended like it was the case for their sake. It would put them in too much embarrassment if they realized otherwise.

You looked at the weather on your phone to appear as if you had a big social life. You needed to focus on something other than their gossip.

Your intense examination of the weather got cut off by the familiar voice of the attending.

“Hey, are you coming?”

“Yeah, I was busy, sorry,” you lied as you shut your phone.

Why did you say that? Luckily, he didn’t push it and continued the conversation.

“Don’t sweat it. The emergencies weren’t too busy tonight. Finished my charting on time.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, it’s a rare sight in here.”

You walked with a little worry in your head. This evening, when you parked here, your car was acting weird. You’ve already humiliated yourself enough to have issues with it on top of everything.

“Thanks for making me harder to kidnap,” you said before noticing the small chuckle he gave you.

“Happy to help, kid. Get home safe… Without getting kidnapped,” he added as he started to walk away.

You crossed your fingers and repeated a whispered “please” before starting the car.

Just when you wanted it the least, the headlights flickered before eventually dying.

“Fuck!” You complained while hitting the steering wheel.

You always had to fucking embarrass yourself. For what? Could it be at a worse time than this one?

You got out of the vehicle and called out Abbot’s name.

He turned around with furrowed brows. He clearly wanted nothing more to do with you.

You awkwardly walked to him with your backpack on one shoulder.

“I can’t start my car. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ll try to make it work tomorrow. I can call a garage-“

“Slow down. Do you need a ride home?”

“I do. Sorry to ask.”

“I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t want to.”

On the drive to your apartment, he asked questions about your issue.

“Did the engine crank?”

“Maybe? I don’t really focus on it that much.”

“Did you see warning lights on the dashboard then?”

“Yeah, but there’s always a new light, so I just ignore them now. I shouldn’t have…”

“Your car’s battery’s probably dead. I’ll check on it later today.”

“What?” You asked, surprised by the kind initiative but also confused.

“Could check what it is and call a mechanic to get it fixed. If you want the help, of course.”

“Yes, I want it,” you answered, a little too quickly, perhaps because he beamed at your enthusiastic response.

“Let’s say 5 pm? I’ll come pick you up, and we’ll get it fixed.”

“Okay!”

You were pleased about the help he was giving you, but it faded when you thought about the fact that he did it to make it up for the incident or whatever you should call it. He didn’t actually want to help you. He just wanted to restore your opinion about him. It was the end of it.

You thanked him for the ride and left for your place.

──୨୧──

Jack knocked at your door at exactly 5 pm. The military punctuality didn’t escape him after all those years. He had two Dunkin’ coffees in his hands and gave you one.

“Shen gave me a Dunkin’ gift card,” he explained before he began to head toward his car as you followed.

“Oh, that’s nice of him,” you awkwardly retorted as you took a sip.

In the car park, he tried to get your auto going without much success.

“Yeah, that’s definitely a dead battery.”

“Okay, well, I can call a guy and get it fixed. I should be fine with the rest then.”

“You know, I got nothing else to do with my day,” he initiated. “And the daughter of a friend got charged extra because they noticed she didn’t know much about cars. Wouldn’t want that to happen to you. They can make you pay for whatever, even if you don’t need it.”

“I bothered you enough. I don’t want to waste your time.”

“I told you I had nothing better to do. It’s your decision, but don’t think about my needs. Think about yours.”

“I want you to stay then… If you don’t mind-”

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he repeated as he typed the number of a repair shop in his phone and called them while you waited.

As he hung up, you realized that a tow truck would need to move your car to its destination and that it would ruin all of the savings you had previously made over the years.

“You okay?” Jack asked as a hand wandered on your back without touching it.

“Mhm,” you lied.

──୨୧──

The battery only needed an hour to fix. Maybe you were a pessimist, but you thought it would be longer. You waited on some chairs in the entry while Jack tried to make conversation.

“How did you end up in the morgue?” He asked as his eyes stared into yours.

“Living patients scare me. I’m a little socially awkward; I don’t know if you noticed. I just preferred dealing with the dead ones. You know, giving them a loving goodbye.”

“That’s really cute of you.”

You couldn’t help but blush at the comment. He was really trying to be kind, and it made you doubt that maybe there was a chance that he liked hanging out with you, but you quickly brushed that thought out of your head and focused on the topic of conversation.

“You? Why are you in the ER?”

He took a deep breath before answering.

“I had to choose a specialty after the military. I needed something that moved like I used to. The emergency is always busy with something to do. You can’t think about much, and you have to focus on the patients, not you.”

“Damn… That was…”

“Sad?” He finished with a small chuckle forming.

“Didn’t come from me,” you replied with your hands up in surrender.

“My therapist said I needed to open up more. I’m trying.”

“That’s good. My therapist and I are working on oversharing. People know too much about my life when I get nervous.”

He sneered as he remembered the moments in which you said a little too much when the conversation could’ve ended there. It was also nice to get to know someone who goes to therapy as he does. With all of his effort, he never convinced Robby to go.

“Do you know why you get nervous? Knowing the cause could diminish the effects.”

“You talk like such a doctor.”

“Sorry,” he said with a laugh.

“I don’t know… I just always felt like everybody had a guide on how to behave in society and I’m the only one who missed it.”

“Do you like to be with people though?”

“I’m not sure. I’m really used to being alone, you know?”

“You should try it out. I’ll bring you to karaoke nights.”

You giggled as he mentioned karaoke so casually.

“Karaoke nights?” You repeated, picturing him singing.

“Yeah, Santos started it. After a terrible shift, the ones who can go to a karaoke bar to relieve some tension. Helps keep the morale up.”

“And do you sing?”

“Tried once with Robby, but Javadi and Joy laughed at us so hard that we drank a beer and called it a night, now.”

“Okay, I’m down,” you agreed, slowly nodding. “As long as the team is okay with it too.”

“Of course they will. They just don’t know you, but you’re sweet.”

“They think I’m weird.”

“So what? Everybody’s weird.”

You smiled at his comment. He was so reassuring that it actually gave you confidence to go in a group full of people you barely knew to get them to know you. It was crazy, but what was the worst that could happen? They already thought you were weird, so it wouldn’t change much if you totally embarrassed yourself.

A mechanic came to announce that they replaced the car’s battery and the price it would be. It was really expensive. Nothing you actually couldn’t pay, but still not in your financial planning. It was so much to cover all at once.

As you took your card to insert into the little machine, you felt a hand on you, slowly pushing your arm down.

“It’s fine, I’ll get it.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’ll pay me back later then,” he brushed off, hoping you’d forget and never actually do it.

He maybe talked like a doctor, but he also had the paycheck to go with it.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he typed his credit card’s code with a smile.

You could go back to your place with your own car as he left for the hospital. He was working, and he still took time to help you out with your stupid issue.

──୨୧──

Your next shift after your short vacation was running smoothly. Unfortunately, there were still dead people in your morgue, but it kept you busy.

As you brushed Mrs Rodriguez’s hair, Jack came in with empty hands, no paperwork, no coffees, nothing.

“Hi… Not that you’re high, but hi as in the greeting. Hello.”

He laughed at your failed attempt at a normal greeting and crossed his arms before placing his hands in his pockets. It was the first time you saw him being nervous.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you sat on your desk chair.

“Yeah, I just came in to grab the paperwork.”

“Jack, you already signed everything you had to sign,” you reminded him before realizing what it was. “Wait, are you trying to find excuses to come to the morgue?”

“No, I just forgot…”

“Dementia getting to you? You and Mrs Rodriguez have more in common than I thought.”

“Were you thinking about the similarities between a dead woman and me?”

“Don’t switch the subject, Dr Abbot,” you playfully demanded.

“I wanted to talk about your car. Do you want to do that after your shift?”

“Oh, okay… Well, yeah.”

Did he want to get reimbursed? Did he discover a huge issue that would make your car implode but didn’t tell you? Did he…

“There’s a good place downtown with a discount for healthcare workers,” he added, cutting off your train of thought.

Somewhere along the way, you missed the part of med school that talked about the importance of paperwork. Sometimes, you felt like a writer with all of the stuff you needed to document for work.

In situations like this one today, you forgot to document a body release exception form for a patient who came in earlier. It was important to note if a body was released under unusual circumstances.

The day shift morgue attendant, James, came in and was eating a snack while you rushed your notes. Contrary to you, he wasn’t doing much and stared at you working.

“So… Excited to leave work?” He teased, wanting to know what got you rushed when you normally didn’t care about spending the day here.

You didn’t have time to answer because the reason showed up at your department.

“Hi, you’re still working?” Jack asked as he came in.

James almost choked on his own saliva when he saw him. He knew more than anyone else the crush you had on him for years.

“Yeah, I forgot to fill in a form. It won’t take long, sorry about it…”

“It’s all good, kid.”

You finished it and signed your name as quickly as you could before giving it to your coworker, who hasn't worked since he came down here.

“Got something to keep you busy,” you said as you happily got rid of the job to clock out.

“Get your man, girl,” he muttered before taking the paper.

You left, and Jack followed you to the elevator in the direction of the parking lot.

“So? Busy?” He asked, assuming a positive answer but trying to make conversation nonetheless.

“Yeah, my to-do list and I are in a toxic relationship. You?”

“Yeah, busy.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as you went in his car to go to the restaurant. He put some music on, and you focused on it in order not to fall asleep.

“If you’re too tired, I can drive to your place too. Doesn’t bother me.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

“Listen to your body.”

“I’m fine… Gravity just feels stronger today. Especially on my eyelids, actually.”

Contrary to usual, he didn’t laugh and drove to your address.

“I wanted to spend more time with you,” you confessed as you closed your eyes for the rest of the drive.

“It’s okay, we can go to karaoke night tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that would be nice…”

He woke you up when he was parked in front of your place. You thanked him for the ride, and he smiled at you like he always does.

──୨୧──

“Going to the morgue again?” Lena pondered with a sly expression.

“Yeah, do you need me on something?”

“No, go see your girl.”

“It’s not like that. I wouldn’t betray my wife.”

“Baby, your wife would’ve wanted you to move on. I know it’s difficult, but think about your own happiness. She really looks like she makes you happy. I never got her jokes, but it looks like you do more than me.”

He looked down at the floor when she mentioned his wife.

“How would I know if that’s what she wanted?”

“That’s what we wish on people we love,” she concluded as she went back to charting.

He swallowed with more difficulty than before and headed to the morgue.

He was torn between his loyalty to his wife, whom he could never replace, and his need to busy himself with anything that could occupy his mind. He already tried to jump on more SWAT cases, took overtime at the hospital, practiced yoga, and helped anyone he could, but it didn’t cut it. His therapist recommended finding a hobby, and that’s what he did, so why wouldn’t it work? He did everything to get better, and it was never enough.

Maybe a girlfriend could make his life worth living, but why would he make someone else see what he was really like behind the falsely confident facade he put on?

Jack took a deep breath to compose himself in front of you and entered the morgue. You were talking with a body you treated.

“I’m pretty sure he’s rolling his eyes,” he joked as he heard you talk about how disappointed you were about a couple in a reality show you were watching.

“Stop, we were bonding,” you said between laughs.

“Bonding or complaining? What’s that TV show about?”

“Don’t even talk to me about it. It gets me mad.”

“Wow, didn’t want to infuriate you.”

You actually looked at him and saw how down he looked today.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah… Just thinking about some stuff,” he brushed off as you decided not to push deeper.

“Oh… Okay…”

“Do you think I should date again?” He blurted out.

This time, you were the one who was surprised by the question. You were known to be out of the blue from time to time, but seeing how random that was made you feel less alone.

“W- What?”

“Sorry, I just talked to Lena, and I don’t know if I should date again. Am I too old for that?”

“No, you’re not too old. It’s more of a ready or not thing, I guess.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he confessed.

“It probably means that you’re not.”

“Good to know, thank you. I should go back up, but are you still down for the karaoke session today?”

“Always,” you confirmed with two thumbs up.

It was a little painful to advise someone you had a crush on for so long that it was better not to date anyone, but it wasn’t like he liked you romantically in the first place, so it helped you tame your feelings. Repeating again and again that it was useless to want a relationship because it was one of those things that wouldn’t happen to you was weirdly a very soothing message. It kept you true to yourself. You weren’t trying to change to impress anyone. You just lived.

Your shift ended, and you went to see Abbot. He was still working on something, so you sat on an empty chair. Mateo came to see you with curiosity plastered on his face.

“Waiting for Jack?” He asked as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of you.

“Did the ghost tell you?” You bantered as he forced a smile to act polite.

“He’s always going to the morgue now.”

Victoria came in to gossip with the nurse.

“Oh my god, are you waiting for Abbot?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?”

“Because we’re betting-” she started before getting cut off by Mateo.

“We were just wondering,” he explained.

“Wait, what are you betting on?”

Javadi looked at her man with an apologetic look before explaining herself to you.

“People here are often betting about stuff. Nothing crazy though! It’s just like… Who is gonna date who and things like that. We were just thinking, with all of the time Abbot spends down in your department, that there was maybe something worth betting on. Like you and him…”

“Oh… I don’t think he likes me like that,” you trailed off.

“But do you?” Mateo wondered, getting as nosy as his girlfriend.

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t know!” You tried to correct yourself, but it was too late.

The two of them were already getting their wallets and leaving you alone.

At the same time, Jack came to see you. He was fidgeting with his wedding ring.

“Hey, are you ready to go sing?”

“Mhm, you?”

“I wasn’t going to sing… Unless you want me to?”

“I want you to! I’m not going to sing alone!”

He laughed and nodded as he said his goodbyes to everyone who stayed. You went in his car as you talked about your day to him. He was a great listener, so you just ranted while he drove and occasionally nodded in agreement to what you said.

“We’re there,” he announced as he parked the car.

You noticed some nurses and doctors talking outside the building.

“I’m a little scared,” you admitted while fidgeting with your fingers.

“Why?” He asked as he opened your car door.

“I don’t know these people.”

“You know me. If it doesn’t work out with them, you can just stay with me.”

“Okay… Yeah, I’ll do that.”

You entered the almost empty bar with him and saw more people from the hospital. Mel was singing with Parker, which surprised you considering that she’s normally on day shift.

Jack placed a hand on your back to guide you toward the bar.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Something sweet,” you said, unsure of what to take.

“I heard that their Ameratto Sour was good.”

“Okay, yeah, why not?”

As the drinks continued to come, you felt pretty dizzy, but you wanted to sing a song. That’s when you searched for something good on your phone.

“Do you know Love On The Brain by Rihanna?”

“I do,” he confirmed. “Is that what you want to sing with me?”

“Yes,” you replied as you went to the worker who controlled the playlist.

You walked onto the scene with him and sang. Both of you were awful singers, but it was funny, and you were too drunk to feel embarrassment. You saw Ellis film you while she was laughing.

Once you finished singing the song, you left as Abbot held your waist to make sure you weren’t falling.

“Wow, I’m winning that bet,” Parker said to Mel, who got confused. “I’ll explain later.”

—

You don’t remember much of the rest of the day, but when you got back to work the next night, your head was hurting really bad.

You saw Abbot come in without a scrub. His hands were holding a paper cup.

“What’s that?” You asked with a raspy voice from singing.

“That’s tea for your hangover.”

“You’re the best,” you praised, drinking from the hot liquid.

It was sweet, just like you loved. He remembered your sweet tooth from your cocktail choice at the bar.

“Why don’t you wear a scrub?” You pointed out as he stayed there while you signed documents.

“I have a day off.”

“Are you held against your will? Should I call the cops? You never take days off.”

“Gloria’s the guilty one,” he blamed. “Insurance policy. Can’t work every day or we risk a lawsuit.”

“And you come to work on your day off?”

“Got a therapy appointment. And I figured you’d need some help with the headache.”

“I did, thanks.”

Your conversation got cut off early by Lena, who came in to give you a body.

“Hi, sweetheart. Got a seventy-year-old man who died from sepsis shock.”

“What’s his name?”

“Hector Granger. We don’t have much information except for his wallet,” she informed you, placing the object on your desk.

As she left, she took Jack’s arm and pulled him with her. You were left alone to take care of Mr Granger.

“What are you doing?” Lena questioned Abbot once you were out of sight.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She likes you, Jack. Leave her alone or actually do something about it. It’s not fair for her.”

He suddenly looked everywhere, but at the person he was talking with.

“I can’t do that to my wife.”

“She’s not there anymore. Think about what you want for once. Do you like her or not?”

“I do, but-”

“Then do something about it. You can’t play with her feelings forever, and you know that as much as me.”

He nodded and looked to the ground in shame.

“Hell, my first husband kept doing that, and I ignored it. Let me tell you that my divorce wasn’t ignored much. You date her, or you don’t, but don’t make people wait for their money.”

“God, I thought Robby was joking about the betting board.”

“Oh no, baby. It’s the most popular bet in a while.”

He smiled and headed to the elevator with her. She left on the ER floor while he went on the psychiatry floor for his therapy session.

“Good evening, doc,” his therapist said as he opened the door to let him in.

During the appointment, he talked about his PTSD and how it gets better when he keeps himself busy.

“Is there something else on your mind, Jack?”

Even if he didn’t want to, he learned over time that being honest with him was the best option, so he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about dating again, but it’s hard.”

“What are you afraid will happen if you date again?”

“I’ll feel like I’m replacing my wife.”

“Would your wife think that?”

Jack didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. He yearned for an actual answer, one from his wife, not the hypotheses people made up in their heads. The problem was that he could never have this answer.

“I think I’ll just stay away from the dating pool. I need more time, clearly,” he trailed off.

──୨୧──

For the next few days, you didn’t see Jack. You knew he was working. You saw him in the hospital but never in your morgue. He didn’t stop by anymore.

You thought you finally made a friend in that fucking hospital just for him to disappear once he got to know you. How is that fair? Why can everybody make friends? Even the mean girls from your high school have bigger social lives than you. It’s not fair; it’s never fair. You’ve never insulted anyone; you've always tried to understand their actions rather than judge. Just for you to get betrayed like that? Fuck it.

Lena came by as you typed on your keyboard like it personally offended you.

“He’s avoiding you?” She asked knowingly.

“I thought I made a friend. I’m not dumb enough to think it was something more like everyone in your department thinks. I didn’t even care that I liked him. I was just happy with a friend, and I can’t even have that!” You ranted with a lot of anger in your voice.

She listened and let you rant, so you continued because you felt more heard than with the bodies you cleaned.

“I kept replaying everything in my head. I was like ‘maybe the karaoke was embarrassing’ or ‘maybe I talked too much’. Whatever, I was just too much. I’m always too much apparently. I don’t even know what is much, so how would I know what’s too much?”

“Honey, I’ve worked with Abbot for years.”

“So? People don’t usually leave without a reason.”

“And people don’t usually feel as much as he does,” she started. “I’ve worked with Jack Abbot for years. I know when he’s running away.”

“From… Me?”

“From himself, honey. But let me tell you this: if he wanted nothing to do with you, he wouldn’t have spent weeks coming down here.”

You didn’t respond. Didn’t really know how to anyway. You just continued typing on your keyboard but with less strength this time.

She smiled and left you with a pile of paper that Jack signed. That same pile of paper that would’ve been given by him some days prior.

Your shift ended, and you went to the elevator. When the doors opened, and you saw Jack, you tried to act normal and just did like everything was fine.

You clicked on the first floor and dreamt about your empty car.

Right as the doors closed, you never felt this awkward in your whole life, and you were literally known as the weird girl in the hospital. The elevator’s light flickered for an instant and suddenly stopped working. Contrary to the normal elevator that restarted instantly, the staff elevator took more time.

That’s it. You were officially in hell. Your first straw was being in an elevator with him, but your last was certainly being stuck in an elevator with him.

“It’s fine,” he reassured as he clicked on the emergency button. “It’s the rainstorm after the heatwaves. The generator will work in a couple of seconds.”

Maintenance answered and said they’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes stuck with him. You knew you should've prayed with your grandma when there was still time. Hell was really bad.

“I always knew elevators were plotting against me…”

He snorted at your comment, and it made you angry. How could he express joy when he made you feel so much confusion recently?

“Did I do something?” You finally asked.

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. If I did something, I’d rather know. I can fix awkward; I can apologize too. I just… Need to know what happened.”

“Nothing happened,” he brushed off as he avoided eye contact.

“Tell me how to be better, and I will do it. I just need you to tell me, Jack.”

“You didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“Then what happened?”

“I’ve been trying to figure myself out.”

“Oh…”

Lena was right… It wasn’t about you but about him running away from himself. You heard him take a deep breath, and you felt guilty for having brought that shit up.

“Can we start over?” He asked as he looked you in the eyes for the first time since the beginning of this conversation.

“Yes, of course we can.”

As if on cue, the elevator started to work after your words.

──୨୧──

Since this moment in the elevator, you saw Jack a little more. He realized that avoiding you was hurting you, and that’s all he needed to change his behavior.

“Want to go take a bite after?” He asked as he went to your department.

“I would love to, but I’ve been craving ramen for days, and I have some at my place.”

He nodded in acceptance, and you felt guilty for letting him go like that when you wanted to see him more.

“Do you want to come? I could make some ramen for you too,” you suggested as you stored a body in its place.

“I’d like that, yes. Langdon and Mel recommended a good boba place. We could take our drinks there too.”

“Oh my god, your brain,” you praised as you gathered your belongings to leave.

He drove you to your place, and you looked at him while he drove. You were feeling comfortable where you were. You were actual friends. He wasn’t trying to apologize for anything or avoid you. He was just hanging out with you because he wanted to, and that was what was comforting. You had a real friend.

As you ate, you watched Criminal Minds on your couch and corrected the medical errors they said.

When he pointed to the TV, you noticed that he didn’t have his wedding ring on.

“Her wound wouldn’t look like that if-”

“You took off your wedding ring,” you bluntly acknowledged before immediately regretting it.

He took a moment to look at his ring, to remember how empty his finger was.

“Huh… Yeah. I haven't touched it for a whole shift, and I went home and took it off.”

“How did it make you feel?”

“I cried… Then I moved on.”

“I’m proud of you,” you praised as he smiled.

“Thank you, kid. It means a lot.”

After a short silence, he suddenly blurted out what he’d been keeping in his head for so long.

“Do you want to go on a day someday?”

“Like a friendly date?”

“No, like a romantic date.”

“...With me?”

He chuckled at your disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“Why? Is that because we hang out more? I’m fine with just being friends if that’s the issue.”

“Kid, I have a lot of friends, and I never feel that way with them. I can’t just be friends, and I think I’m finally ready for something more.”

“Are you sure? Like it’s not because I feel any type of way towards you, right?”

“It’s not.”

Jack leant over the counter at you, peering through squinted eyes. “Disappointment? I think you've just made my night.”

There was a blush on your cheeks as you looked away, studying the Pitt to find something to distract yourself with.

“You might regret that. We've got a lorry car collision, ETA ten minutes out,” you explained, dropping the granola bar into your scrub pocket. “I might just be your bad luck charm.”

Jack loved working with you. He loved getting your opinion on cases that didn't need a second opinion. He liked the quiet moments in the night shifts you covered where it was just the two of you and the night sky. He liked being able to make you blush, to make you laugh in the middle of the darkness.

Because there was a darkness lingering in you. The sort only the Pitt could latch onto a person.

He'd seen it in Robby.

He despised seeing it in you.

There were some nights you covered- because you were always the first to volunteer to do a double- you started with a sparkle in your eyes and ending the night in despair, dragging yourself home. You'd return hours later, not at all long enough to have had a good sleep.

Jack worried, but he liked having you around to keep an eye on you.

Jack shook his head. “Nah. The bad luck is this place. You're the good.”

You laughed, hesitantly.

Lena patted your arm, kindly, the way a mother did. “I'll go get the guy from trauma two moved.”

“You want some help?” you offered.

“No, sweetie, I got it.”

You looked around like you needed to make myself busy. Like you couldn't be alone with Jack. He'd seen it in the ED many times, even in the military, the need for people to stay busy instead of succumbing to a sort of numbness.

It had been him some years back before he managed to deal with his demons.

“Any interesting cases in the ED today?” Jack asked, following you around with his hands behind his back, restraining himself from guiding you through with a hand on your back.

“Well, we had a woman who didn't realise she was eight months pregnant who gave birth today. A priapism-”

Jack seethed. “Ouch.”

“- and a man with a toothbrush stuck up where the sun don't shine.”

“Double ouch,” he said, checking the side of you. “So you had quite an interesting day, huh?”

“You could say that,” you mumbled. “There's also a girl in five with Fancomi anemia. She came in four hours again and we're still waiting to hear from her parents. She has a half sister half way across the country that might be a bone marrow candidate that they've never tried.”

Jack nodded, listening and catching the far away look in your eyes. “You're doing everything for her,” said Jack. He didn't even have to ask to know you would be doing everything possible for the girl. Even if it meant exhausting yourself.

Jack nodded to himself, debating with himself if he wanted to know the answer to his next question. The devil and angel arguing on his shoulders. “A little birdie told me you had a date,” he said, the both of you knowing the little birdie was, in fact, Robby. “How'd it go?”

You sighed and stopped in the middle of the corridor.

He cut you off before you could start. “I'm just asking to check you're okay. That... that he was nice.”

You nodded slowly, not meeting his gaze as your hands rested at your hips. “He was- he was fine.”

Jack ignored the wince of pain as he crouched to get a look at you. “Just fine?”

If Jack couldn't have you, he loved you enough to just want you happy.

It was only four months ago you'd broken up with him, after seven months of beautiful moments. Of coming home to you in his sheets, making a coffee and waking you up to it. He wanted to steal every moment with you, choosing sleep when you went to work, spending the morning just watching you get ready. The lunch dates where he'd turn up to the ED, the place he could never escape, with a delicious home made lunch for you and sometimes extra for Robby who kicked up a fuss that he got nothing and had known Jack longer.

Jack missed the kisses in the night and the morning. He missed holding you when he had a night off. He missed when you'd think he was asleep and map his freckles, tracing I love you into his skin.

Because the tender moments were always there, yet gradually they began to hide themselves in the cover of night, when you thought he was sleeping.

Jack knew things weren't perfect. With both your schedules it was hard to balance but you tried to make it work. Then the light in your eyes started to fade and when you told him it isn’t working anymore, I love you, I'm sorry, he hadn't thought to keep your relationship alive. He'd just been fighting to keep you.

He was terrified he'd lose you.

Then what would he do?

He wouldn't survive it.

“Just fine?” he asked again.

“Don’t sound too pleased.”

“I’m not,” he denied but bit back a smile.

You looked up to him, shuddering a deep breath. “He was just... whatever.”

“Just a whatever kind of guy?”

“Why are you asking so much?” you asked, mildly annoyed.

Because he still loved you? Wasn't it painfully obvious? Weren't you just trying to act like you didn't know he was helpless for you to spare him embarrassment.

“Just, checking in on you.”

You looked down at your shoes, scuffing them on the floor. “It- he was nice but... I dunno, not what I wanted.”

Jack hummed. “No?” did you still want him? He'll be honest, he didn't think he'd hear about you going on a date. Least of all with some guy from Pedes. When you'd broke up with him he expected it had something to do with you wanting to focus on you. Rest up. The sort of stuff like that. Then he had to hear from Robby that you were going out for dinner.

There was only a small bite of anger before Jack felt sorry for himself.

“No,” you sighed.

There were deeper circles under your eyes than usual, sharp half moons dark in colour lingering there. Your eyes were dark and lifeless, scrubs hanging off you.

“Is there anything else going on?” he asked, tugging at your arm slightly to hide yourselves at a corner.

You looked up to him, lips pulled down in a frown as you shook your head. “Nope.”

His brows rose, eyes looking at you, pleading. “You can talk to me if there is, h-” the pet name he had no right to almost slipped from his lips. He gulped it down and felt it sting down his throat. “You can tell me.”

“We're...” you hesitated. “We're not together anymore, Jack. You don't have to do all this chivalry thing.”

“Can't help it,” Jack shrugged. “Not when it's you.”

Your hands wrung together and Jack looked down. There was flakes of dry skin on along your fingers. He knew the sanitiser in the ED could be harsh on your skin, but he also knew he'd replaced your hand moisturiser in your locker just two weeks ago and that you should have plenty. It was a nervous habit you had, to rub your hands together like so.

Jack remembered it from your first date. He’s used it as an excuse to reach over and take your hands.

“I'm just tired,” you mumbled.

Jack nodded, slow and listening. “That it?” he prodded gently.

He'd heard countless doctors slip those words out in answer to the everything okay type questions. He'd seen Robby break as the words chocked in his throat. You said them without emotion. Without even trying to prove your lie.

“Why don't you go home? Get some rest-”

“Ellis is-”

“- we'll manage,” he insisted. His hand had un-consciously started to move up and down your forearm in comfort.

You winced as you turned your head aside, thinking about it.

Jack didn't know how much he really wanted you to go home. He wanted you to rest, yes, but preferably in the family room with a blanket thrown over you where he could drop by and check in on you. Check you were okay.

Check you weren't doing something stupid.

He knew that not everyone felt like a ticking time bomb. That not everyone's mind would wonder as dark as his did sometimes.

But he feared you weren't far off.

“Go rest-”

At the same moment Jack spoke the ambulance doors were pushed open and two bodies were pushed through on gurneys, bloody and broken. Stats were yelled out and Jack was called for.

At the same time, Matteo popped out of five, calling for you.

“She's crashing!”

You rushed over, falling into the room with the young girl and Matteo.

With a heavy sigh, Jack followed the other path of emergency responders and doctors.

He and the team worked on them. A father and son involved in a lorry crash that ploughed right into the side. The kid was only seventeen with a broken leg and collapsed lung. The father was much better off. The boy would need surgery and Walsh was already down and wheeling him up.

It was all done in a quick blur of thirty minutes. He took care of it all clinically like ticking through a to do list, not looking to close at the kid to remember shades of hair or lines of the face.

By the time Jack was stepping out the trauma room, Crus at his side, you still had not returned to the floor of the ED.

“How does she seem to you?” Jack asked Crus, the two of them pulling off their gloves and gowns. He said your name in clarification.

“Hot!” said Crus with a shit-eating grin.

Jack glared at him. He should have known not to expect a serious answer from Henderson. Or at least he hoped that wasn't the serious answer.

“I don't know man, how do you want her to seem?” asked Crus.

“She seems tired. For a while now,” Jack noted.

“Aren't we all chasing sleep?” he asked him, leaving his side with a pat on his back.

Jack found himself at the nurses station, leaning over.

Lena's glasses slid down her nose, a chart in hand and her red hair messily pulled back. She ditched all efforts to seem busy however when he beckoned her over. “She's been in there the last thirty-five minutes,” she told him. “The little girl she'd been looking after crashed.”

“Nothing back?”

Lena shook her head.

Jack shook his head. “Shit.”

With a heavy heart he dragged himself to room five, already hearing the stillness of the monitor, the hard breathing and orders.

“Push another round of epi and charge to two hundred.”

The room smelt of septic cleaning products and the faint aroma of sweat. There was a faint burn smell from the defibrillators that had apparently already been charged and used.

Jack lingered in the doorway.

Your body was curved over the small girl, knees denting into the crappy hospital bed that hadn't been updated in years. Your hands were cupped over her chest, pumping down as Matteo pushed another round of epi. Catching Jack's eyes, he shook his head.

Jack tutted, quietly to himself. “Hold compressions, check for a rhythm.”

It took you a second but you stopped, looking to the monitor in hope.

There was nothing but a flat line.

Jack didn't tell you to resume compressions but you did anyway.

“Charge to three hundred,” you said to Matteo.

He was caught in the middle, looking toward Jack for confirmation.

Jack nodded and Matteo got the paddles, warming them and handing them to you.

Your grasped them in an all too familiar hold. “Clear!”

The small girls body lurched before flopping back on the bed. Everyone in the small room waited for a rhythm. There was nothing in answer.

Jack had no time to tell you not to carry on before you were. He took a slow step in, patting Matteo on the shoulder, in a silent gesture to have him leave.

The nurse gave a sad look before leaving, closing the door gently behind him.

There was Jack and you over the girls body.

He said your name, slowly.

You didn't react.

“Honey, come on,” said Jack. “She's gone.” He could see the tremble in your arms from the compressions you hadn't given up on.

One. Two. Three. Four.

“Her parents aren't even here,” you said. “They didn't even pick up their phone when Dana called. We-we left a message. They deserve to see their daughter one last time.”

Jack nodded. “They will.”

You glanced up at him. “Alive.”

He clocked his head to the side. “That's not gonna happen. It's been forty-five minutes. She's gone.”

Losing kids were the hardest. Losing anyone was hard but kids weren't supposed to be found in hospital beds, tubes poking out of them. If they had to be found in a hospital, they deserved loved ones around them. Not strangers in black and blue.

Jack knew you were trying to do the right thing. Sometimes there was no right thing to do.

“Come on.” Jack was slow in moving around the bed to your side. He gave you time to slow down, to feel the exhaustion in your arms. His own hovered over you. “Come on.”

You shuddered when his arms fell over you, holding you softly as you slumped back into him, falling from the bed on feet that weren't ready to catch you. His arms were; strong where you were weak.

“It's okay, it's okay,” he mumbled into your hair, peppering kisses there. “You did everything you could.”

Neither of you knew how long you stood there in his embrace. Somewhere between the consoling you and you slowly leaving his arms- like it was paining you physically to do so- Jack called the time of death so you wouldn't have to, pulling the plug on the monitor to kill the sound of dying.

When he turned back you were stuck at the door, eyes downcast as if you couldn't bring yourself to look at the small body he pulled the cover over.

He returned to your side, hand gentle on your arm. “Go take some time in the family room.”

You shook your head, a tear betraying your words. “I'm fine.”

Jack reached up and cupped your cheek in the palm of his hand. He looked at you like you were still his whole world. You were. To him. His thumb delicately wiped the tear away as your gaze reached his. “Ten minutes, please. For me.”

It took some time, some great mental calculations sparring inside of you but you nodded and Jack led you from the room, closing the door behind him.

His hand was a gentle breeze against the small of your back as he led you out, giving a gesture of a nod to Lena about the room. It was enough for her charge nurse bells to go off as she nodded and sent someone over.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” Jack whispered to you.

You nodded, stepping out his hold and slowly walking to the family room.

Jack waited and watched closely, marking every step you took to the room. He only let out a sigh when he saw you close the door behind you.

“Everything okay?” asked Lena as he slouched over the counter.

His face scrunched up as he fought his own pain. Pain for the little girl but a greater pain chocked at him as he closed his eyes and pictured the heartbreak marring your face, taking over your entire body. He sniffed back his own grief. “No. No, not really.”

Slowly he explained the situation to Lena. He re-encountered the break up that had took the night crew by shock. They were all so sure it was happy ever after for the two of you. When Jack had to slowly explain the break up (he lied and said it was mutual, it was very much not) there were distraught faces as if the night-crawlers were all going through a parental divorce. He told Lena he knew something was going on with you. He told her about the girl that had just died.

“And I just-” said Jack, chocking on a cry that threatened to escape the lodge in his throat. “Sometimes when I see her, it feels like I'm gonna be seeing her for the last time.”

“Hey,” Lena whispered and reached for his hand, squeezing it. “None of that. She'll be okay.”

Jack nodded, repeating the words to himself. “Yeah, she'll be okay. Keep an eye on here?”

“Already on it.”

By the time Jack next had the spare moment to check his watch he found thirty minutes had flickered by since he last saw you. When he passed by the family room you weren't there. Instead Caleb was, talking to a family.

Jack went in search of you, checking the board for your initials. He didn't see anything up on there, nothing that jolted his heart with the usual sparks.

“Shen!” he called in passing. “Have you seen her?”

“Er, no, sorry.”

Jack cursed. He was turning around the ED, spinning on his heel and looking around every corner for you. You weren't by the lockers, weren't out in the ambulance bay. Trauma one was empty and trauma two had a large team in there already, devoid of you.

His heart beat like a drum in his chest, growing louder and louder, the thud of the bass growing the more time went on and he couldn't find you. Had you gone home without a word? Were you hiding away somewhere else?

Jack was losing hope, running on anxiety when he pushed back the curtain to fourteen hard enough to almost tear the thing.

You looked up at him from your place on the stool next to your patient, a middle aged woman with an ankle not as it should be.

“You're here,” he said, breathless.

“Er, yeah?” you said with a small chuckle. “I'm just telling Mrs Greene here about the surgery to reset the bone in her foot.”

Jack nodded, looking from you to your patient.

He wasn't an idiot. Your eyes were scratched and red, cheeks flushed. Yet you'd tried to put yourself back together. You'd scraped back your hair in a neater pin up, had clearly splashed cold water on your face, maybe even dunked your face in a bowl of it. You sat with your hands in your lap, a leg kicked over the other, caving in on yourself.

As soon as you left the room, chart in hand, Jack was hot on your heels.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You startled, looking at him. “Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?”

“You lost a patient,” Jack reminded you, a small frown pulling at his lips. “It's tough on all of us.”

You glanced down to the chart, lifting your shoulders. “We lose people all the time. It's the job.”

He surveyed you as you slid into a seat, logging into the computer in front of you. No eye contact, distractions pulling at you. Jack knew your tactics; they were everyone else's. Ignore the pain till it went away before mounting up and crashing down at the worst time possible. Heck, he was chair of the club.

“Sure,” he mused. “Doesn't make it any easier.”

You sighed, pulling your lips up into a strained smile. “Jack, seriously, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me.”

Jack leant over the counter. “Well, you want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“I'm always worried about you.”

“I don't think it's much of a secret,” you said, moving your fingers quick over the keypad.

He wondered if your hands were steady. Or even if you were writing anything with meaning, or just trying to occupy yourself. “If you need to go home-”

“- I don't-”

“- take some time-”

“- I don't want to take time,” you huffed.

“You’re starting to sound like Robby.”

“Now that’s insulting,” you huffed. There was a moment were you fell silent, your body slumping under the weight of the argument. You dragged your hands down your face. “Jack, please.”

When you're a kid they teach you that manners are an important basis in the human condition. A show of respect. A nicety. They don't tell you the effects the simple words hold when used on the tongue of a loved one. When someone you love is begging you to leave them alone, even against your better judgement.

Jack never liked to hear you beg as it was.

He hung his head in surrender. “I'm staying close.”

“You'll be loitering.”

“Observing,” he corrected.

He loitered around you the rest of the night. He checked your name on the board every time he passed. When the parents of the young girl arrived five hours later Jack spoke to them, he didn't even tell you they had arrived but somehow you knew. A silent nod of thanks was passed. The sun started to rise and Jack had counted three coffee's, two over your usual. The granola bar he'd handed you was left abandoned at your station and before Jack could find you to make sure you eat the rest, Crus had taken it in one bite.

Six am was a blessing. The night hadn't been full of patients, no more than usual at least but it had been more stressful to Jack.

Every time you moved and he couldn't find you he was worried. Even if it only lasted a minute or two. It was the same blind panic he'd felt the day Robby left for his sabbatical, yet the relief when he saw you didn't last.

Jack had left to go to the bathroom in the morning. When he came back Robby was there, fleece pulled up and talking to you. He couldn't tell what was going on, only that Robby's hands were clasped together in a prayer like motion.

Then he saw you nod and Robby sigh before giving you a high five and leaving.

“What was that?” Jack asked, falling at your side.

“What?”

“What were you and Robby talking about?”

“Er,” you hesitated. “Langdon can't make it, there's something at home, I don't know his kids are sick or something, Abbey's away visiting family.”

Jack was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “So?”

“He's asked me to stick around for a bit, help him out-”

“You've just pulled a double,” Jack snapped.

“It's only a few hours,” you shrugged, as if you weren't the walking definition of sleep. “Beats going home.”

“I'll cover.”

“Then you'll be pulling a triple,” you pointed out. “I'm younger, more spry.”

His jaw pulled tight, hands falling on his hips. “I'll talk to Robby.”

“I've told him I'll do it,” you said, firmly. “I don't want to go home and sit with this, I'd rather be here.”

“For how long?” he asked. “You gonna stay here forever now? You can't run away from this.”

“I can't sit with it either,” you snapped back, heat rising up your neck. “I'm not like you, Jack. I can't leave the shift at the door and go home and just sleep it off. I need to... I need to do something.”

Jack stood and listened. He knew you all processed things differently. He knew that you were never good at staying still, always rising early in the mornings even if you weren't working, cooking before he'd even said he was hungry. Siting still and thinking didn't work for you.

You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. It took you a couple moments to drag your eyelids open. “I'm gonna go sleep through hand over. I'll see you soon, okay?”

Jack didn't bother saying anything as he watched you go.

Your place was taken up by Robby. He looked down the way you'd walked.

“You had no right to ask her to stay,” Jack argued.

Robby chuckled low in his throat. “You have no right to be mad that she said yes. She's not yours anymore, Jack.”

“She's exhausted!” he grit.

“Then she wouldn't have said yes.”

“She wouldn't have said no, either!”

Robby grit his teeth and backed up a step. “Brother, I know you care about her. I'm only asking a couple hours to figure things out. She's a grown up. She knows what she's doing. I don't think you do.”

Robby walked off then, leaving Jack to it.

The worst part was, Jack knew he was right. He had no idea what he was doing.

It was two days later and Jack wasn't even supposed to be in.

It was only three in the afternoon, he had at least three more hours of snooze time, lying back in his bed, counting the flecks of paint in his ceiling- if he hadn't been out on the SWAT team.

A bunch of boys- punks really- were holding hostages for a total of six thousand dollars and a PS5. Considering the wars and losing his leg and the shoot outs it was a relative easy thing to deal with. Still, when the larger one of the trio took a run at him and landed his shoulder square in the chest, pushing Jack to the floor, it still hurt.

He'd pulled up his shirt, caught a glimpse at the bruising and thought it better safe than sorry. Best to get it checked out by your hands.

Any excuse really to feel your hands touch him.

“Hey,” he greeted, walking through the ambulance doors.

It was like walking into a morgue.

Dana and Javadi were at the nurses station, both turned to look at him in shock. “Jack, honey, what are you doing here?” she asked without her usual smile.

Jack clocked his head aside. “I took a tumble, thought I could get a look at, you know.” He was hoping she'd catch just who he wanted examining him without saying your name.

Javadi gasped at her side, hands flying over her mouth. “Oh my god.”

Jack looked to her. “What?”

He glanced around the Pitt.

Princess and Perlah were in the corner, talking in Tagalog quietly while glancing at him. Others were looking at him but Robby wasn't. He wasn't around. He counted: neither Samira, Whitaker, Santos or McKay were there.

Nor were you.

Dana slowed around the counter, lifting an arm to him. “Why don't we get some coffee? I can take a look at you-”

But Jack had already found trauma two, where all the doctors he was looking for were.

Robby stilled, gloved hands and gown covered in blood. At his side Samira was much the same, behind him Whitaker too. “Jack! Get out!”

It took him a minute to realise why everyone was looking at him, why the ED had felt colder than usual. Why you'd been missing from the floor.

The blood surrounding everything was yours.

“Jack!” Robby yelled.

You were on the gurney too still, so un-natural for you. Had he not been complaining you wouldn't take a break just forty-eight hours ago?

Jack looked to each face that was frozen, wondering what to do. Whether they should work on saving you or work on getting rid of him.

Jack made their choice for them, throwing off his jacket and pulling on latex gloves over the sweat of his palms. “Talk to me!” he yelled to anyone in the room.

Robby gave one un-impressed shake of his head and a groan. “We found her in the bathrooms. Stab wounds to the left chest, two to the belly, right and left upper quadrants.”

Jack was over you know, looking down.

You were pale, eyes dark and closed and not opening as he pressed a hand to the top of your head, feeling around just to be able to touch and know you were there. It was a relief to know as much as it was a nightmare to see you. He inhaled but it was shaky.

“She- she was stabbed?” he asked.

“We think it was a patient,” said Santos from behind him. “Or-or a relative of a patient, we don't know.”

Jack shook his head, brows creasing. “Oh god.”

“Pule ox eighty-two!” called out Donnie.

Jack snatched the central line tray away from Robby, lying it out and doing it all himself. He looked at you and saw a patient. For the sake of your life he was looking at you and cutting you open like he didn't love you. “Call- call someone,” he said.

“What?” asked Whitaker.

“Robby,” said Jack. “Call- call her emergency contact. A friend. A family, I don't know just get her someone! She-she doesn't like patients being alone so for gods sake, call someone!”

Robby was adamant to argue. It was evident in the lines in his face and the frown on his lips but Jack heard the sharp tug of elastic and the sound of him giving up.

He remembered how distraught you'd been when the little girl had no family with her. You weren't going to die- you weren't. But Jack wanted someone you trusted to be with you.

“BP's ninety over fifty!”

“Okay, c'mon, c'mon, honey,” said Jack as he carefully and skilfully intubated you, the bag going on. “Don't do this to me.”

Robby had pulled over the computer, logging in and typing away.

“Pulse ox is dropping!”

“Belly is distended,” said Whitaker. “Probably an intra-abdominal bleed!”

“Get four more units of O-neg in here!” ordered Jack.

“Pressure's down to sixty!” yelled Samira.

“Oh... god,” Robby uttered, staring intently at the computer screen.

There was a harsh beeping screaming through the room and everyone looked.

“We've lost her pulse!”

By the time Mohan had finished announcing it Jack had already climbed up, compressing down on your chest.

“No. No,” he said, harshly. “You are not doing this to me. You're not! Push a round of epi!”

There was another beeping that would haunt Jack for the rest of his life.

“She's in V-fib!”

Jack grunted. “Charge to one hundred!”

“Stop!” Robby called out. His head was hung low between his shoulders, one hand held up. “Stop.”

Jack did not stop pushing down to your chest. Over you, Donnie did not stop pressing down on the bag. Nobody was stopping. “Robby, What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he snapped.

Robby was pale, his eyes down cast as he turned his body to the room but didn't have the strength to look at anyone. He rested a hand on his hip, the other stretched out to the cart with the computer to steady himself. “Her chart. She's DNR.”

Jack didn't hear him, not right away. Or he did but didn't want to. He knew the letters DNR. Sometimes a mercy for the elderly that had lived a long, good life and wanted to go out on their terms. For the terminally ill who didn't want to live the rest of their life in pain.

You were young. You were healthy. You were not dying.

“What?” said McKay.

“You're kidding,” said Denis.

Robby shook his head, spinning the computer to them.

“Doctor Mohan!” Jack called, a silent plea for her to take his place. With steady hands, she did and Jack stumbled down next to Robby.

He stared at your name, your birthday. Your file sat there staring at him, the DNR mocking all the love he held for you.

“She's DNR, Jack, I'm sorry,” said Robby, a hand on his shoulder. “We have to respect that.”

His fingers moved around the keyboard till he highlighted the DNR.

You'd signed a DNR. You'd never said anything. Why had you signed a DNR?

Jack moved around on the keypad and did the only reasonable thing. Everyone behind him waited with bated breath.

Jack dragged his finger to the bin icon and deleted your file.

Robby stared at him in shock.

Jack looked away from the now empty computer screen and didn't so much as glance at Robby as he returned to your side. “Charge to one hundred.”

A wave of shock rippled through the doctors and nurses as Jack marched back to your side. There was disbelief that you, someone so young, would ever be a DNR. That Jack- who they'd all argue was a little bit more responsible than their own Doctor Robby- would erase a file!

Jack looked around at them all. “Charge to one hundred, now!”

Santos and Whitaker were the first to jump to attention, charging and handing over the panels.

“Clear!”

The waiting room was colder, quieter and whiter than Jack was accustom to. He was used to working down in the Pitt, with its white walls and ghosts but there was always noise. Always monitors going off and names being called, usually there were wails or cries of relief.

In the waiting room there was nothing.

Only lines and lines of chairs, a fish tank that last time he'd counter had a dozen or so goldfish and a clock that ticked by every second you lay under the knife.

Every second ticked away and nobody came to fetch him, to update him.

Every second Jack was left alone to guess why you'd have a DNR order.

The door creaked open and the only other waiting woman and child in the room looked up. As did Jack.

Robby walked in, boots shuffling, lips tilting up into an apologetic smile as he raised a hand to the mother and daughter. He found Jack. “Anything?”

He shook his head. He learnt almost two hours ago not to trust his voice from shaking anymore.

Robby settled in the chair next to Jack, stretching out his legs. Not to impose but just to press his boot next to Jack's and assure him he was there. It was a small move but none the less appreciated. “The guy was only came in for a headache,” he explained quietly in the silence. “We were waiting on a psych consult from some erratic behaviour-”

“- he should've been restrained,” said Jack, through eyes that were heavy in tears. He knew that most patients came in erratic, that they didn't always have to be tied down but he still he remembered your blood all over the trauma room, your blood on everyone's gloves.

Jack had to get a change of scrubs from the lockers just to get out of his clothes stained in your blood but as he looked down at his boots he found a spec of your blood.

“The guy had no infection, we've no idea how he got the knife. He ran after the attack. Word is he's at Westbridge being treated for schizophrenia.”

“How long?” Jack asked, a shake in his voice as he angled his head down to Robby. He gulped. “How long do you think she was lying there, alone, bleeding to death before anyone found her?”

Robby's own inhale was shaky, his body wracked with it. “I don't know.”

Jack's breath shuddered. He hunched over himself, resting his elbows on his knees.

Had you been conscious? Aware of the fact litres of your blood were leaving without being able to call for help. Were you trying to call for help but un-able to find your voice? The thought had Jack's stomach churning.

“What if-”

“Don't-” warned Robby.

“What if she doesn't make it?”

“She will.”

Jack tried to imagine a world without you but he couldn't. He tried to picture walking into work and not finding your face, smiling or on the verge of collapse. He imagined not being able to text you just to say he was thinking about you and for you to just reply, don't. He couldn't imagine the last photo he'd have of you on his phone was the morning you broke up with him, when you were sleeping and he thought you looked so beautiful and at peace that he had to capture the moment.

He wanted to tell you there'd be no peace on the other side. Not if you left him.

“Two stab wounds to the belly,” Jack sniffed. “Could've been the spleen.”

Robby didn't try to sugar coat it. He only nodded and listened. “It could.”

“It could've got the heart, she was stabbed in the chest.”

“Maybe.”

They sat in silence.

Jack saw Robby watch the clock for an entire minute.

“Do you know why?” asked Robby. “Why she had a DNR?”

Jack winced at the memory. The stamp standing out to him. It was offensive to him, that you'd do such a thing. He rested back in his chair. “No. She.... she never said anything about it, not to me.”

Robby nodded.

“She's healthy,” said Jack.

“Maybe... maybe it's something else,” Robby uttered.

Jack didn't need to ask what he might have meant. They knew it better than most.

Maybe it wasn't a want to die, but an indifference to live.

Yet, a DNR wasn't an indifference. It was a choice that if anything happened to you you'd never want to come back from it.

“I can't do it,” said Jack, looking down to his boots. He struggled to put the rest of it into words. “I can't... without her- I can't. And I want nothing more than for her to wake up. But... I'm so angry she's done this.”

There was grief, despair also behind that anger but the fury masked it.

“So am I,” said Robby. He was the closest thing to a mentor you had, someone to look out for you when Jack wasn't around. “When she wakes up-”

Jack shook his head. “We don't know that.”

Robby's body hunched over, focused on Jack. “When she gets out of that OR you get to argue with her first.”

Jack dared to hope in the silence that paraded between them. “You think she knows?” he asked. “That we brought her back?”

It seemed Robby didn't even have to think about it.

“She knows.”

There was another tick of the clock before the door opened again.

“Doctor Abbot.”

He shot up at the call of his name, pushing through the door with Robby following behind. Out in the hallway the lights radiated a ghostly white and Jack felt haunted already.

Garcia stood there, a mask lose around her neck.

“How-how is she?” he asked.

Garcia looked between them. “Recovering. There's a long road ahead of her, but she's stubborn. Far more stubborn than the two of you combined. She's going to make it.”

Jack let out a shudder of a breath of relief, his entire body curling. He felt the need to throw up all the words he'd wanted to say to you and hadn't. That coil in his stomach released and his last good leg trembled.

He felt Robby's hand on his shoulder and dully heard him and Garcia talk about what had gone on in the operating room but it was as if Jack was under water.

A score of surgeons started to wheel you out, pushing you into recovery.

Jack saw you in a new gown without blood, bandages around you. You were still asleep but that's all it was, a sleep. Your skin was still pale but there was the smallest bit of life in your cheeks. You moved so slow, or maybe that's how he was seeing you, trying to slow it down to memorise you.

When you disappeared Jack came back to with enough time to thank Garcia and rush off after you.

By the time you woke up Jack had gone through his mind a thousand times, trying to think of a way to approach the topic of you seemly wanting to die without coming off as angry and afraid as he felt.

You woke slowly with flutters of your eyes and your hand coming up to rub at the sleep only to be held down by the IV in your hand.

Jack jerked at the movement, claiming your hand and holding it in his, squeezing. “Hey. Hey, you're okay, it's okay,” he said, coaxing some comfort into you.

You turned to find him, eyes groggy as you blinked at him. Your lips parted, dry and chapped, just barely mumbling his name.

“Yeah, yeah, it's me,” he said with a watery smile as tears sprung to his eyes. “It's me, you're okay, you're safe.”

You glanced around the room in post-op. The blank walls with cards about various health hacks, at the monitors all around you, then down to yourself in a gown, the blanket that Jack had asked Robby to bring from his place gently tucked close to you. Selfishly, he'd wanted to keep just one thing when you left. You gulped. “What-what happened?”

Jack steadied himself. “You were- you were stabbed, one to the chest. Tw-two to the belly.”

You blinked, taking in the information. Slowly, your free hand rose and rubbed over your heart. “My-my chest-”

“Does it hurt?” asked Jack, ready to begrudgingly let go of your hand and rush to get someone.

You shook your head, closing your eyes and resting your head back in the cushions. “It... aches, a little.”

Jack knew the pain from other people winces. From the jutting of chests when they were shocked to the burn marks left there after. He'd seen your wince on hundreds of other patients, often described as a pain like being kicked in the chest.

He wondered if his heart breaking was a similar pain.

“Your- your heart stopped. We lost your pulse. We had to bring you back,” he said slowly, studying your face for any sign of grief. “We had to shock you.”

He waited.

You only slowly closed your eyes and opened them again. “Oh.” Your hand gave his a little squeeze.

Jack gulped down his troubles, shuffling closer and resting his arms on the bed, caressing your hand close to his chest. “We had to go against the DNR. Your DNR.”

You looked at him, a small knot of confusion between your brows before it quickly smoothed over. He watched you slowly avert your gaze, turning away to stare at the ceiling instead. You didn't cry- in rage or relief- you didn't say anything for a while leaving Jack to guess if you wanted him to bring you back.

“Why?” he asked, a crack in his voice. “Honey- why was there a DNR order on your file?” deep down he knew he should have been letting you rest, taking care of you and whispering soothing words but he couldn't see past the order on your file. He couldn't forget the way he watched your body lie still and bloody without breath and the dread that filled his chest when he found out you didn't want to be brought back.

You blinked a tear. “I don't know.”

Jack shuffled closer still, his knees digging into the bed. “Baby... honey, please. You-you can tell me,” he begged, holding the back of your hand to the stubble growing in stress. “Please, honey. I... I thought I was gonna lose you forever.”

His salty tears rolled onto the back of your hand and like it was acid, you cried, the sort that had your bottom lip jittering.

“I-I really don't know,” you uttered. “I guess I was young and-and stupid. I didn't want to die... didn't care much about living either. I just put there as a.... as....”

Jacks thumb slowly soothed your hand, resting it on his cheek as he listened. “As a what, honey?”

You glanced his way before your expression turned pain and you stared down at the blanket instead. “A failsafe. I didn't think anything would happen to me... but if I did I guessed it was life's way of telling me to be done.”

Jack took a deep breath that didn't reach deep in his lungs, it sat and burned. He knew it wasn't about him and he wasn't trying to make it so but he'd had a long time to think about life without you while waiting for you to come out of surgery.

Who else was he supposed to talk to if he didn't have you?

Who else was he supposed to laugh with if you weren't there?

Who else would take up all the love he had if you didn't have it?

“I did it ages ago, Jack, I swear, I forgot about it. Things were different, when-when I was with you. I just... I...”

He nodded, trying to hide his tears. He turned his head to wipe his cheek against his shoulder.

You squeezed his hand again.

“You didn't- you never said anything,” he mumbled.

You lips parted and hung open lamely. “I'm sorry.”

Jack shook his head again and looked at you with his best, un-stable, smile. “I just don't know what I would've done without you.”

Your finger tapped his hand, almost pityingly. “You'd have been okay.”

He scoffed. “Like fuck I would have,” he said, looking at you. “Do you realise how scared I was when I saw you in trauma? Do you realise what my life means without you? Nothing. Nothing, it means nothing.”

You frowned. “But I... I broke up with you?”

Jack shrugged. “So? You think I was gonna stay away long?”

You looked down at the blanket again, the one you'd picked up at a store- Jack couldn't even remember what store- he just remembered you'd seen it and said it would look good at home. At his. It was the first time you'd said his place as home and the first time he realised it could have been just that. “I dunno, I'm kind of a mess.”

Jack looked at you like you were the stars in the sky. “So am I, baby. That doesn't change anything.”

He thought to how sad you'd looked breaking up with him, like you didn't want to. All the extra shifts you'd been carrying, the silent pain. “You can't carry on like this. Being distracted, running from the pain. You have to... talk about it, face it.”

You swallowed, bitterly, as if even thinking about doing just that was the last thing you wanted to think about.

“If I hadn't been there today, I... I don't even want to think about what could've happened,” he admitted, quietly.

“How- how did you do it?” you asked. “Go about the DNR?”

Jack looked up sheepishly. “I deleted your file from the records.”

There was the smallest hint of a smirk on your lips.

“Gloria's not gonna like that,” you warned, pulling at his hand.

Jack chuckled to himself. “Gloria can kiss my ass.”

You laughed. It was small and pained but it was the first laugh from you Jack had heard in months.

He smiled at the sound.

“Jack?”

You pulled on his hand, beckoning him closer.

Jack hovered over you, checking where he could rest as to not hurt you. He rested his arm over yours, gently stroking back your hair while keeping your hand in his, resting it over your chest where the firm and promising beating of your heart lay.

“Thank you,” you said. “I don't... I don't think I'd want to have died. I know I act like it some times with... with all the work and the distance-”

Jack nodded along. It was a good start, a fresh one that he could build with you.

“But I want to be alive. With you.”

“Well that's good,” he said, tasting the own salt of his tears on his lips that were bitten down on in anxiety. “Because I want you to be alive. With or without me.”

You smiled up at him.

Jack stroked back your hair again. “But I'd prefer with.”

“So would I.”

Jack kissed you gently and slow, letting you set a pace of push him off. You did neither. Your lips puckered and were light against his but he grew solid then, an un-moving block at your side.

And you'd start again with each other, gentle and slow.

if you need help or related to the dark ideas in this fic, please talk to someone!