Fic Recs

Now here he was. Watching. Eyes following you as you walked into the ED beside Shen, both of you carrying trays piled high with various hot and iced drinks. He can’t imagine how much even one of those things cost. 

Within moments most of the drinks are gone, taken by Ellis and Lena and whoever else had placed their order with the two of you the night before. Jack, for just a moment, regrets not having done so. Not that he even likes the sugary sweet monstrosities you always chug your way through before midnight, always somehow armed with another one to get you through your second half of the night. 

He’d pretend though. Especially if it meant you’d stop and smile at him and maybe even talk to him for just a couple seconds about something not medicine related before diving into the mayhem. 

“Hey!” Your voice isn’t a hallucination, Jack determines when he sees you walking up to him with a smile. 

He tries not to look too surprised. Or flustered. Or excited. “Hi.”

Nailed it.

“I brought you something.”

Jack thinks he might melt into the floor. 

You hold out a drink, one clearly meant for him. It’s green on top and pink on bottom with strawberry slices floating above the ice. 

“You didn’t have to.” He takes it from you and relishes in the brief moment that his hand touches yours. You need to calm down, he thinks to himself. 

“I know, I wanted to. It’s on me.” You say it so easily and Jack thinks now might be a good time to excuse himself and go jump off the roof because he can feel his whole body warming in a way it shouldn’t be at the sentiment. 

You’d thought of him. Part of him wonders how long you’d been doing that for and if it was for as long as he’d been thinking of you. Day and night. Hour after hour. In ways he definitely shouldn’t be.

“I just figured you could use a little caffeine that wasn’t the stale black coffee in the break room for once,” You shrug like it’s nothing but it means everything to him. “As a certified drink specialist I thought you might like this one. Shen said I was crazy for picking it but I spent every minute I was awake looking through the cafe's menu debating and I think I finally narrowed down something to live up to your incredibly high standards.”

Jack had stopped listening as soon as you looked up at him. Wide eyed and a little nervous but with that sweet smile he was maybe just a little bit obsessed with already. “What is it?” 

Frankly, he didn’t really care. He’d love it no matter what because you’d been the one to hand it to him. You’d put effort into finding something you thought he’d like and that was more than enough for him.

“An iced strawberry oat milk matcha. It’s not too sweet but definitely a step up from a black coffee. I,” You stop yourself for a second, hesitating a little. One look from him though, one that practically begged you to continue, and you kept going. “I see the face you make when you drink it even when it’s fresh so I thought we’d switch it up a little.”

You’d noticed him. He was one more observation away from imploding. He swirled the drink around to distract himself from the fact and then took a huge gulp. 

“Holy shit,” His eyes went wide as he took a second to savor the drink. It was good. Really good. He had no clue how you’d figured him out so perfectly. Part of him was hopeful enough to think that you just knew him. Saw him. He took another sip. 

“You like it?” You were beaming at him now, satisfied and proud of yourself. 

He couldn’t be more obsessed with you if he tried. He was tempted to propose marriage right then and there. Instead all he said was, “This is phenomenal.” 

Jack couldn’t help himself. He looked directly at you and hoped that maybe these abilities of yours to read him perfectly well extended past the drinks and you’d be able to look into his head to see what he really wanted to say. You’re phenomenal. I like you. Probably more than is healthy. Never leave me, actually.

“Oh you’re kidding,” Jack had almost forgotten where he was until Shen walked over, handing you a half drunk iced coffee along with a fresh one for later, just like usual. “He liked it?” 

“Just like I said,” You held up your hand for a high five, which Shen gave you despite dropping his head and groaning. “Which means you’re buying for me tomorrow.”

Jack rolled his eyes at the sight of the two of you. His smile pushed through the serious facade he was trying to put on. Nothing could ruin his mood right now he was positive of it.

“Is it that surprising?” Jack held his drink a little tighter and held back the urge to take another sip of it. He was seriously already starting to understand your guys' shared obsession with always having some kind of drink on you.

“No, it’s just,” Shen paused for a moment and it hit him all at once. Abbot was in a good mood. And all it’d taken was a personal delivery straight from you. He was wearing a smile, a genuine one. Best of all, his eyes kept straying back to you. Like you were some kind of magnet pulling him in against his will. Oh yeah, he’s obsessed. “I’m glad you found something you like.”

Jack heard it. The tone. His eyes snapped back to Shen and narrowed the slightest bit. All he did in response was wink at him and take a sip of his first coffee of the night. 

He could see right through him.

2. The Confession

It had been three days of this and every time Jack saw you he felt the question at the tip of his tongue. And every time something else came out instead. So here he was. Two weeks into your time here and he was obsessed with you. That much he could admit. 

If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be lingering by the nurses desk, pretending to look at a stack of papers he was pretty sure were blank. Every few seconds he glances up to where you were deep in a conversation with Ellis and Walsh. The three of you had gotten yourself partnered on the same case and were taking advantage of the fact that your patient was doing perfectly after surgery to actually talk about something normal while you could since you found yourselves with a little downtime.

“You don’t have to hover, you know.”

Jack freezes. 

He thinks he might’ve actually stopped breathing. He knows exactly what Lena’s talking about though and he’s determined to lie his way through it.

“What?”

Okay, maybe not the best start. He doesn’t look up from where he’s pretending to flip through whatever papers were in front of him. Definitely not eavesdropping. 

“Oh, please,” Lena rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair. “She’s not gonna disappear into thin air. You can get work done and I promise she’ll be there after.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Jack betrays himself when he glances back over in your direction. He smiles to himself when he sees you laugh, a beaming grin on your face. When he looks back towards Lena she’s already staring at him with her arms crossed.

“I think you just might be the world's worst liar,” Lena leans forward conspiratorially. Her voice drops when she asks, “So when are you gonna ask her on a date instead of moping around?”

Jack freezes again, “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously?” She lets out a disbelieving laugh at his bad attempt at faking innocence. “You’re worse than a kid with their first crush, it’s a miracle she hasn’t noticed yet.”

Okay so maybe she had a point, Jack could admit that much. He remembers the first time he’d seen you here clearly. He’d felt some kind of pull towards you the moment you entered the PTMC just over a year ago. It’d been easy to ignore then, though. You’d just graduated and had been doing an emergency medicine residency program under Dana during the day shift and it was only every now and then he’d be there at the same time too. Yet every time he did happen to work with you, even for a fleeting moment, it was like the entire place shifted a little bit.

Dana had even stopped him one time, so casually that he hadn’t even questioned why she was calling him. “You better watch yourself, Abbot. That’s my girl, best one to come through here in ages. Last thing she needs is you distracting her.”

He’d scoffed at the statement at the time, claiming that it wasn’t like that. It had been exactly like that, though. He knew that now. You’d been easy to avoid when you were on day shift but now you were here all the time and he couldn’t imagine not finding every reason he could to stick to your side. 

“She’s not one of yours, you know. She’s one of mine,” Lena’s voice brings him out of it. There’s an I told you so look on her face that he rolls his eyes at. “I’m just saying, the paperwork will be a lot easier to fill out.”

“Aren’t you a romantic,” He knows he can trust Lena, though. If it was really a bad idea she’d tell him so with zero hesitation. So finally, hesitantly, he says, “I’ll think about it.”

***

Jack barely needed time to think about it. He had made his choice quickly and it was eating him up inside. It was just past 7 AM and he could hear the day shift and night shift looking for you both. His time with you was running out and fast. It was just the two of you alone in the room, your patient had just miraculously gotten a bed upstairs and you’d been there to ensure a smooth transition. Maybe that was his sign that you’d say yes. 

He stops you before you can pull the curtain open to let them know the room was now open. He reaches for your hand, grabs your waist, and spins you around to look at him in a single swift move. “When can I see you again?” 

The question doesn’t phase you.

“In about twelve hours.” You answer him with a teasing smile, choosing to stay just a little bit too close to him instead of stepping back. 

“You know what I mean, honey.”

And then you look at him in a way that’s new. Your smile turns less teasing and falls a bit. It makes you look a little more vulnerable. He watches your eyes flicker across his face and he knows you’re trying to see what he’s really made of. If he really means it. He wants to shout the truth to you in that moment. That he can’t get enough of you.

“Say it,” Your voice comes out soft and he wonders briefly if you can read his mind. You step a little bit closer to him. “Tell me what you really want from me.”

Jack is painfully aware of the voices and footsteps coming closer. They’ll walk in any moment now, he knows it. He glances towards the door and when he looks back he can see you about to step away, thinking he wasn’t going to tell you the truth. He blurts it out before you can. 

“Everything.” He says it so easily that it makes your breath hitch a little bit, he can see it happen. “I want to take you on a real date again and then take you home with me because you will not believe how hard it is to sleep without you next to me. When I wake up I want to just lay there looking at you for a little bit wondering how the hell you agreed to all of that. And then I want to do that over and over again until you get sick of me.”

You don’t say anything after his confession. A few seconds pass where you just let the words sink in and then, “Only if your plan includes taking me to that cute little cafe down the street too.” 

“Whenever you want.” Jack’s never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

“Right answer,” You finally will yourself to step away and swing the curtain open. Before you walk away you look at him again and the teasing smile is back. “I’ll meet you outside in a bit?” 

He walks towards you again and he’s really pushing it when he stands so close you can feel the heat of him. “Odds we can sneak out of here before they can stop us?” 

“Abbot!” Dana's voice.

You laugh at the way he groans as his head falls onto your shoulder briefly. “Not likely.”

3. The Kiss

It’d only taken a month for everything the night shift knew about Jack to change. It had also been a month since you’d joined them. The two things had to be related. They just couldn’t prove it yet. 

“Hey,” Ellis whispered as she practically ran to where Shen and Lena were deep in a conversation. There was an uneasy look in her eyes as she looked around, as if she was expecting someone to overhear what she was about to say. “Is he being weird?” 

They look towards where she had subtly nodded and found Jack. He was in an exam room laughing with a patient as he finished stitching him up. Laughing. 

Night shift chief attending Dr. Jack Abbot was in a good mood. For the first time maybe ever, as far as they knew. At least publicly in a good mood. He was never like this at work, always opting for serious and stoic with his patients because he needed to be at a job like this. 

But this was his third patient in a row now that he made easy conversation with. It was a lot more than pleasantries and small talk, it was real conversations. Questions about themselves and their lives and jokes traded back and forth. It was unsettling, frankly. 

“Thank you! I told you something was up with him,” Shen slams a hand down on the counter before looking at Lena and leaning forward the same way Ellis was, mocking concern. “ Have we tested him for any substance use lately?” 

“Alright drama queens,” Lena rolls her eyes at them and leans back in her chair. “Why can’t he just be having a good night?” 

Ellis shakes her head at that, nose scrunching as she disagrees, “No, I think he might actually be physically incapable of that.” 

“Well what do you think it is then?” 

“I think he got laid,” She says it confidently and with zero hesitation at all. Shen chokes on his drink and Lena’s eyes go wide as saucers. “What? He’s all glowy and shit, there is literally no other explanation?”

“Explanation for what?” Your voice comes out of nowhere and Ellis and Shen nearly jump out of their skin. 

“For,” Ellis recovers faster and quickly glances at Lena and Shen, neither of which provide any help. “For why Shen’s guy in south 18 is really concussed.”

“Oh he’s having an affair with his neighbor for sure,” You set your tablet down and swipe your badge along the card reader at one of the computers. “This guy shows up with his pants backwards, shirt inside out, and his left shoe missing and he expects us to believe he just tripped while on a late night walk?”

It’s at that moment that Shen notices it. There’s no iced coffee in your usual place. It’s always right there, tucked in the corner of the desk Lena sits behind. You always reach for it every time you’re nearby, it’s how you make your way through it faster than almost anyone else. He watches carefully as you reach in that exact direction subconsciously before pulling your hand back. Empty.

“Where’s your drink?” He blurts the question out suddenly and you glance up at him.

“What?”

“Your drink,” He glances at Ellis and Lena and they can see the real question in his eyes. “You always leave it right there. It’s barely nine, there’s no way you’ve had enough downtime to finish it already.”

“Oh,” You go back to the computer screen and shrug. “I just woke up late, didn’t have time to stop.”

“Right,” Shen’s eyes narrow at you but he doesn’t say anything else. That’s when he notices Jack leave his patient's room and walk in the direction of the break room. “Hey, my second one is in the fridge if you want it?”

You sit up instantly and immediately a little bit of life fills you again. So maybe you both had a little bit of an addiction. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” And that’s all he has to say before you’re making a beeline to the break room, steps faltering just the slightest bit when you see Jack disappear through the door. Then you glance back at them, smile, and disappear in the same direction.

“Hang on,” Ellis immediately leans forward again. “You don’t think -”

“No,” Shen shakes his head immediately. “It's a coincidence. There’s no way.”

“And what makes you so sure?” Lena, admittedly, is invested now. 

“Uh, because Sweets is my best friend in the whole wide world and would have told me obviously,” He rolls his eyes like it's obvious. “Plus there’s no way Abbot would admit how deep he is in his feelings already. He’s due for at least another couple weeks of yearning from afar.”

“I don’t know, he might’ve,” Lena shrugs as she recalls all the little things she’s witnessed the last few weeks. “This is intense, even for him.”

“Besides, look who we’re talking about,” Ellis points out the fact that they all know is right. You were sunshine personified. The piece they didn’t even realise the night shift was missing. And it was just like Jack Abbot to want you all to himself. “He’d be crazy if he didn’t.”

“Wait,” Lena pieces it together first. The missing coffee. The good moods. The hesitation before your smile, the one that was just a little bit different than usual. Softer. “Didn’t they walk in together today?”

There’s a moment of silence as they all realize the same thing at the same time.

“First one to find out pays for the others drinks for the next two weeks?”

“Deal.”

“You’re on.”

***

“You’re insane.” 

Jack only grins at you as he locks the door of the supply closet behind him. He wastes no time at all and immediately wraps you up in his arms, skipping all formalities and letting his mouth fall to your neck. “I thought that’s why you liked me” 

He knows now how easy you are to distract. One glance at you and how your eyes have fluttered shut already confirms that. You let out a content little sigh as you pull him closer to you, “Among other reasons.”

The noise that fills the pitt disappears and suddenly all you know is Jack. His hands wandering underneath your shirt. His mouth on every bit of skin he can reach. The way he cages you in between his body and the shelf behind you and holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Jack seriously,” It takes every bit of your self control to pull yourself back and attempt to look at him for real. “We can’t do this here.”

“We're alone, honey. No one has to know,” He doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on your lips instead. He slips your scrub top over your head leaving you in just the thin, see-through, white undershirt. You're both quickly losing all sense of rationality. 

“Someone’s gonna come looking for us”

“I'm their boss, I'll make them go away,” One of his hands tangles in your hair this time and he pulls your head back so he can look into your eyes. Blown out pupils, breaths falling heavy, lips swollen from how you’d been biting them in an effort to keep quiet. He groans a little bit at the sight. “Just this once, baby, I swear,” He kisses you. Really kisses you. Long and slow and deep. Enough to make your thoughts go blurry and your knees weak. He pulls away the slightest bit and smirks when you chase the feeling of him. “Promise.”

“You know, somehow I don’t believe you.” He laughs then, pretending he doesn’t notice you start to push his own shirt up little by little. Your hands are cold on the warm, bare skin of his chest and he shivers a little bit, smiling even wider. He's addicted to you, he thinks.

“Can you blame me?” Another kiss, this time picking up where he left off before. “You’re perfect.”

Someone pulls on the door seconds later, just as his hands start wandering lower. 

“Why is this door locked!” 

You slip your scrub shirt back on in record time and Jack pushes you behind him when he goes to open the door as Ellis starts pounding on it. “I swear to god I -”

She doesn’t see you when he opens it. Not at first. 

“Can I help you?” Jack asks the question like nothing is wrong in the slightest. 

Ellis looks around for a second, trying to determine if anyone else was seeing this or if she had finally entered a state of hallucination. “I just need -”

That’s when she sees you. Tucked behind Jack, clothes a little crooked on your body and a little more disheveled than before. You’re smiling at her, only the slightest bit shy but mostly looking a little pleased. “I - hi?” 

She doesn’t know what else to say to you. 

“Hi,” You smile at her and step around Jack. “What did you need to grab?”

“I just - I just need a suture kit.”

You grab one off the shelf next to you and step around Jack, stopping for just a second to shoot him a smile. She watches him return the smile, absolutely noticing the way he reaches for you. His fingers barely skim against you when you step just a little too close to him, like even that feather light touch will get him through the rest of the night. You turn back towards her like nothing happened. “Do you want any help?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Ellis tries not to stare when Jack grabs your hand for real, pulling you back and kissing you again, modestly this time. On your forehead as he whispers something to you that she can’t hear. 

It’s not until you’ve walked further away from the storage closet that she leans a little closer to you. “Hey, are you two…you know?” 

You laugh a little bit at the question. “Dating? I thought it was kinda obvious after that.” 

“I didn’t want to assume.” Ellis laughs along with you and shakes her head, leading you in the direction of one of the rooms. Then she notices Shen and Lena out of the corner of her eye again and stops. “Hey, can you get started? I need to check with Lena about some lab results real quick.” 

“Yeah, go for it! Take your time.”

Ellis watches you pull the curtain of the room closed. Then she waits until Jack has disappeared into another room on the other side of the ED, the most smug looking grin on his face, before she practically runs to the nurses desk. “They’re dating, I told you so.” 

“What?” 

“And we’re just supposed to believe you? How do you know?” 

“I asked,” She pauses for a moment before leaning closer. “And I found them both in the supply closet with the door locked, you connect the dots.” 

Shen’s face scrunches in disgust. “Ew.” 

Lena on the other hand only lets out a sigh. “We’re gonna have to keep an eye on them aren't we?” 

“Probably.” Ellis looks incredibly pleased as she starts walking back to the room you’d gone into. “I’ll send you guys my drink order before next shift.”

4. The Reveal

The day shift doesn’t usually notice when the night shift starts to trickle in. You remember it clearly, the way it feels like every single person with every single ailment known to mankind seems to congregate in the pitt all at once right before it’s time for shift change. That’s something you don’t miss. By the time you guys come in it feels settled. Or maybe you all just like to think so. 

Either way, they definitely don’t notice when you and Jack walk in together, your bag slung over his shoulder. They’re too distracted by the drinks Shen and Lena walked in with, relegated to delivery service after losing some bet to Ellis. 

All the noise is forgotten quickly. This, the rare quiet moment in the staff locker room where it feels like the whole world comes to a stand still, is Jack’s time to breathe. He watches you throw all your things into his locker, somehow getting to the point of sharing custody of one now in the last couple of weeks. 

He knows you’re saying something. He can hear the sound of your voice but you’re also tying your hair up so it’s out of your way for the night and he loses all ability to think straight. Some kind of pavlovian response overtakes him and this feeling fills him up inside and suddenly he can’t help himself. 

He stands up and it's like his hands move on their own without him meaning for them to. They set themselves firmly on your hips and pull them back, completely flush against him. He bunches the scrub top up and settles his hands underneath the long sleeve shirt you’re wearing under it. Your skin is warm under them and the little noise he lets out is perfectly content. 

“Can I help you?” He can hear the smile you’re wearing when you ask the question and he can picture it perfectly. 

“No,” Jack shakes his head a little and kisses your cheek. It lingers for a second before he starts moving down the expanse of your neck. “I’m fine. What were you saying?” 

“You're so needy, you know that?” 

“Are you complaining?” He doesn’t get a response from you. Instead your arms settle over his and you relax into his hold. He smirks. “That’s what I thought.” 

You don’t get very long to escape into the moment. 

“There you are. Robby’s looking for - woah,” The exhausted look on Santos' face turns into a shit-eating grin in a fraction of a second. “What’s going on here?”

Jack frowns when you wiggle out of his hold to turn to look at her. 

“Hey,” You smile at her like she hadn’t just seen what she clearly just did. She shares a look with both Javadi and Whitaker who’d walked in with her. “How was your shift?”

“Uh, I'm sorry,” Javadi laughs in disbelief a little as she looks between the two of you. You, smiling brightly at her in the way she misses seeing so much on the day shift, and Jack, who looks like he’s never hated three people more. She’s pretty sure he’s committing their murders in his head. “What is this? When did this happen?”

Jack all of a sudden feels protective in that moment. Over your relationship that very much fuels his will to live and over you. Part of him is surprised you hadn’t told them yet. The first friends you’d made here, probably some of your closest, clearly had no idea about you and him. Then he remembers your opposite schedules and the constant cycle of work and being completely enveloped by the so-called honeymoon phase of your relationship he thinks might actually never end.

“Wait, did I not tell you guys?” You’re trying your hardest to trace back every moment of the last few weeks. Jack takes it upon himself to hand you your drink and grab his before shutting his locker, taking a second to just listen. One of his arms wraps around your waist again.

“You did not, sweets,” Santos shakes her head and speaks slowly, trying to push through her absolute shock at this revelation. And trying very hard not to stare at the casual display of affection from Jack Abbot of all people.

Whitaker is the one who recalls the last real interaction you’d had with them fastest. Somehow he’s the least surprised. “You spent all of breakfast the other day telling us about that kid you patched up with Ellis. The one who slipped off the fire escape trying to sneak into his girlfriend's room."

“You told Mel, Samira, and Langdon," Jack says it in between sips of his matcha like it’s nothing. “When you had them over for dinner at yours your last night off. You sent me a picture of their reactions.”

“Right!” You try your hardest to hold in a laugh at the recollection. Samira had shouted into a pillow. Mel had asked a lot of questions, incredibly excitedly. Frank had decided he needed to take a walk to process and stood on your balcony for ten minutes. “I guess I forgot, everything kinda blurs together. They didn’t tell you?” 

“Sweets, I think you told the three least nosy people in the ED,” Santos makes a mental note to yell at all of them for keeping this from everyone else. “Of course they didn’t.”

Then your attention slips from Jack completely when Javadi prompts Whitaker to tell you about something that happened earlier. He stops listening completely, now perfectly distracted by the excited look in your eyes and the way you smile at them. And okay so maybe he’s a little bit clingy. 

Jack wraps himself around you from behind again, arms now fully circling your waist. He does not hesitate in the slightest to pull you flush against him again either. He does exercise a little bit of self control though. There’s no kiss this time. Instead he let out a soft sigh and let his head fall onto your shoulder, chin resting against it silently as you talk.

He doesn’t notice the way Javadi covers her mouth with one hand to hold back the comment she wants to make out loud. Instead she points at the sight as subtly as she can and mouths “oh my god!” you only grin at her. You roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed at Jack’s display, but you settle back into him anyway.

He also doesn’t notice the way Whitaker stares at him, eyes narrowed in his direction and head tipped to the side curiously, debating to himself whether or not Jack was actually in the room with them. Physically or mentally.

Santos, ever curious, is the one who finally cracks and breaks him out of his self induced trance. “Okay, I have to know. How did this even -”

“Hey!” Ellis cuts in before she can even ask the question all the way. She pops her head in the door, eyes skipping past everyone until they land on you and Jack. She doesn’t look phased by the sight in the slightest. She nods at you with a smile in greeting before looking at Jack. “If you don’t get out there in the next five seconds for hand-offs, Robby might just track down a guillotine and use it on you.”

“Alright, alright,” Jack rolls his eyes and takes his time standing up straight again. He lingers for as long as humanly possible. Another kiss, to your forehead this time, before he very begrudgingly lets you go one arm at a time. “I’ll see you out there.”

Jack keeps holding your hand as he walks out of the room, not letting a single second go to waste. He holds on until he takes a step too far and lets it fall out of his own. An absolutely devastating moment in his eyes. 

“Later, kids.” He just barely glances at Whitaker, Javadi, and Santos, saluting them with two fingers before taking another sip of his drink and walking out of the locker room with Ellis, who hands him a tablet.

The silence sinks in around you. In those few moments your friends realize that Abbot’s whole little display is evidently very much normal for the night shift. And then -  

“Since when does Abbot drink matcha?”

5. The Declaration

It was bordering on 2 AM when the trauma came in. A young girl, who’d just wanted some pancakes and coffee while pulling an all nighter studying for her upcoming SAT exam. She’d been hit by a drunk driver on her way home from the diner and was in rough shape.

The room was already tense. She’d coded in the ambulance and they’d only just managed to get her stable. Every single one of you held your breath as you all did everything in your power to try to save her. 

It was really with no hesitation that everyone else took a backseat to you and Jack moving easily around each other. The two of you were the girls best bet at surviving, a well oiled machine at this point. In every sense of the phrase. You could anticipate what he was about to do before he even said it. All he’d have to do is give you a look and you just knew, you’d hand him whatever he needed, or ask someone else if your hands were full, and you were right every single time. 

“Honestly I think the rest of us can go home,” Walsh, who’d been paged to consult and make sure the girl was stable enough for surgery, said from where she stood on the other side of the hospital bed from you and Jack. She was watching closely and honestly, was more than a little impressed. Especially when you pointed something out to Jack that he’d missed right before she could. “Our sweet little angel face over there has this whole place locked down.”

“Including Abbot,” Shen watches from beside Walsh, looking on curiously at the silent understanding between the two of you. “It’s like they have some freaky mind meld thing going on.”

“You think its contagious?” Walsh puts up her side of the bed railing, seeing that Jack was just about done. 

“Hopefully not,” Shen makes a face at the thought. “I'm more than happy letting her be the one to keep him too busy to yell at the rest of us.” 

Neither one of you notice their conversation in the slightest, too involved in each other even in a trauma room. It’s almost unsettling. The small little smiles and the bedroom eyes and whispered comments passed between the two of you. The way Jack pauses for just the briefest moment mid procedure to turn and send you a wink that makes you roll your eyes and grin back at him. 

Walsh watches the whole interaction, positive the two of you have forgotten everyone else is the room. “This can't possibly be normal. Are they like this their whole shifts?” 

Shen thinks for a moment before shaking his head, “It’s usually worse. Boarding on an HR violation is their normal.” 

A moment passes where Walsh realizes that yeah, that kinda tracks considering the moments she’s been witness to up until this point. Then, to Shen’s horror, she smiles. “Hey, do you wanna see something funny?” 

His eyes narrow at her but ultimately his curiosity gets the better of him. “I’m not taking responsibility for your funeral expenses if this goes badly.” 

That only makes her smile wider.

Walsh maneuvers her way to your other side, taking the place of one of the other nurses that was there. Shen’s eyes go wide when she looks at him again. She speaks before he can shake his head to stop her, breaking you and Jack out of the little bubble you’d put yourselves in.

“You know you’re really good at this, Sweets,” Walsh grins when you look over at her instead and Jack hesitates for just a second. “When can I steal you to help me in the OR? You’d be amazing in there.”

“Anytime,” You meet her smile easily. “I’m always down for a change in scenery.” 

“Perfect,” She smirks a little at your answer. “Name a day and time and I'll steal you all for myself.”

“Done,” The other side of the railing snaps up, maybe a little more harsh than it needs to be. Jack looks up, not a hint of the smile he’d been using with you left when he looks at Walsh. “You can go now.”

Walsh looks more than pleased by his reaction. She looks at Shen who’s trying his absolute hardest not to laugh giddily at what he just witnessed. 

“Down, boy,” She unlocks the wheels of the hospital bed and smirks even wider when Jack removes his gloves and loops his fingers into the hem of your scrub top, pulling you back into his side. It’s completely subconscious, she realizes, when neither one of you seems to even notice it happens. “Even when I steal her from you for my OR you’ll still get to take her home at the end of the night.”

“Wait, hang on, that’s where I draw the line,” Shen unlocks the wheels on the other side and starts wheeling the bed out with her. “You are not taking our best nurse all for yourself. Especially not when she’s the one who also brings us our caffeine every shift.” 

“You know, you’re only giving me more reasons to steal her.” 

Neither one of them notices that you don’t follow. Instead, the room empties out and then it’s just you and Jack. The silence settles between you as Jack unties the back of your surgical gown. When you turn to face him again he speaks softly.

“You could go, you know. To the OR. If you wanted to.” Jack says it before you can say anything about it. “Walsh is right, you’d be a natural up there.” 

“Jack -” 

“You don’t have to stay here forever. I mean, Shen is also right. We’d miss you down here. It hasn’t even been a couple months yet and it feels like you were made to be here with m- with everyone -” 

“Jack -” 

“Even if you just wanted to try it out. I think you should. I mean it’s-”

You kiss him. Not in the storage closet or the locker room or in an on call room or behind a curtain like usual. Right there in the middle of a trauma room, windows wide open and the ED buzzing all around you. 

Jack melts into you immediately. Hands moving to your hips to pull you closer before one moves to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. A small groan leaves him when you pull away, the sweetest, most innocent smile on your lips.

“You talk too much,” A moment passes where you just stare at him, making sure he’s really listening to what you’re saying. “I’m not leaving the ED,” and then you add a little quieter, a little more shy, “You’re here.”

“I love you.”

Jack doesn’t know what possesses him to say it out loud here and now of all places for the very first time. But he feels it and he acknowledges it and there’s no way he can hold it in after that. There’s a need that settles deep in his bones and he knows he’s never going to want anything less than you right there with him always. Forever. He doesn’t know how he’d survive otherwise. 

It takes a moment for what he said to sink in. You can see the intensity in his eyes, how much he feels it and means it. You really wish you were anywhere but the ED right now. Maybe if you wished really really hard you could somehow will everyone and everything to slow down long enough for you to sneak away with Jack for just a little bit. 

Jack Abbot who loves you. The knowledge of that fact makes you feel warm all over. 

“I love you too.” 

+1. The Move

Jack is obsessed. He knows that for sure now. 

With the way you kiss him and how you look at him after. With the way you let him be as attached to you as he needs to be at any given moment and you don’t mind at all. With the way you hold his hand and pretend not to notice when he moves his fingers to rest on your pulse point out of instinct. And especially with moments like these. 

It’s pushing ten am and the two of you have only just left the hospital. A morning rush hour pileup meant that not only was there an influx of trauma’s coming in right before 7 but also that a good chunk of the staff were stuck behind the backed up traffic. 

Despite the fifteen hour shift, you’re still happily nodding your head along to the soft music that fills Jack’s car. He watches you out of the corner of his eye. You’re mumbling the words to the song playing and taking sips out of the drink he’d just bought you, your third one of the day. His drink is sitting the cup holder. His second one, your habits had rubbed off on him.

The song switches once and then twice. By the time it switches a third time he’s watching you frown as you reach the bottom of your drink. 

“Honey, don’t take this the wrong way,” He looks at you for a moment before looking back at the road. “But I think you might have a problem.” 

“I do not!” You feign offense and turn towards him in your seat. “God forbid I treat myself to something nice after a long day.” 

“What were the other two for then?” 

“A treat for going to work and a pick me up for halfway, clearly.”

“Clearly.” Jack shakes his head as stops at a light. Silently, he drops one hand from the wheel and sets it palm side up on the center console. Almost immediately you’re placing your hand in his, the exact way he was craving. 

The light turns green and he makes the split second decision then. He turns right, the direction that’ll let him turn around to head towards his place, instead of continuing straight, the direction that would take him to yours. 

You watch as he does so, driving further and further away from your apartment. “Jack, what are you doing?” 

He kisses the back of your hand. “Taking you back to mine since you’re clearly not planning on sleeping after all that caffeine.” 

“Okay, one,” You turn to face him again, even while he’s driving. “I’ve built up a tolerance. This is nothing. And two, I've been out of clean clothes for like a week. I can only wash the ones I have there so many times.”

“So steal some of mine.” Jack shrugs and maybe the thought of you in his clothes is a little bit for him too.

“Bad idea, cause then neither of us will ever have clean clothes again.”

“I’ll buy you new ones then.”

“Not if I don’t let you.”

“Good luck stopping me.” 

He’s winning and you both know it. So instead you say, “I have to stay at my place sometimes, what’s the point of even having it if I give in and always let you win these fun little arguments.”

The stop is sudden. Jack pulls over into the first empty spot he sees on the side of the road and turns to face you fully before you can ask him what he’s doing.

“You know what, honey? You’re right,” He leans towards you, fully leaning on the center console until he’s close enough to kiss you if he really wanted to. “There’s really no point in you paying for an apartment you’re barely ever in so I think it’s the perfect time for you to let me move you in with me.”

For a second you’re not sure if you heard him right. Maybe he was right and the cocktail of caffeine and sleep deprivation was finally making you imagine things. “What?” 

“Move in with me.” 

So you definitely heard him right. 

“You’re not serious.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“It’s barely been three months,” You shake your head as if that should explain everything. “And we haven’t even technically been dating for that entire time.”

“What can I say, I know what I want,” You’re still looking at him in disbelief so Jack takes your hand again and he sounds more serious when he says it plainly. “What I want is you. Every morning, every night, every shift, every minute you’ll let me. If you’ll have me.”

“It’s too fast.” You’re only trying to convince yourself at this point.

Jack smiles at you, softer than before. “You’re forgetting I’ve been pining over you for more than a year now.” 

You catch the implication immediately. It went way further back than just three months. All the way back to the day you walked through the doors of the PTMC halfway through him going through shift change. He’d lingered a lot longer than necessary and you had thought it was just normal for him. 

“You’re crazy.” 

“That’s why you love me.”

And he’s right. It’s the reason why you finally give in. “Will you at least let me split the rent with you?”

“I own the place.” Jack shrugs and you know for a fact that he’s not sorry in the slightest. 

“Mortgage then.”

“Already paid off.”

“Bills?”

“Paid in advance for the next three months.”

“Groceries?”

“Not a chance.”

“50 50?”

“90 10.”

You huff a little and pout at him. He doesn’t fall for it, only pausing for a second to kiss the look off your face. “Are you ever going to let me win one of these arguments?”

“Not unless it’s in your best interest.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you love me for that too.” 

Jack finally thinks for a moment and that’s when his eyes land on the drinks in the cupholder between the two of you, his half full one and your empty one. “How about I let you pay for my drink every time we stop for one?”

You light up at his proposition. “Will you let me pay for mine?”

“Only after the first one. First one I’m paying for,” He leans in a little bit closer, knowing he’s got you on his side now. “Consider it a compromise.”

“Works for me.”

“You can pay for Shen’s too,” He adds quickly before you can agree. “I refuse to fund his addiction, he’s worse than you.”

“Deal.” That makes you laugh and you finally lean in and kiss him, sealing everything in place. 

He can taste the sugary vanilla drink that still lingers on your tongue and it makes him smile against your lips. “Will you let me take you to our home now?”

A few days later he matched with a woman.

Forty-seven. Beautiful eyes. An effortless glow. Outdoorsy - hiking, camping, that sort of thing. And, perhaps most importantly, she was a physician.

They exchanged messages for a few days before agreeing that texting was overrated and dinner would be easier.

So far, it had been.

She was easy to talk to. That kind of person who could carry a conversation without turning it into an interview. Smart. Quick-witted. Comfortable in her own skin.

Even the small talk flowed naturally - traffic, weather, travel plans, the usual harmless first-date topics.

It was going well. Better than Jack had expected, if he was being honest.

He leaned leaned back into his chair. “So, your profile only said ‘physician’. What’s your specialty?”

She smiled. “Plastic surgery.”

There was a brief pause. Jack smiled politely. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And yours?”

“Emergency medicine.”

“Oh, so you’re a cowboy” she laughed.

He nodded once then changed the topic and asked her about her latest hiking trip.

The conversation moved on. Twenty minutes later she excused herself to the restroom. The second she disappeared around the corner, Jack pulled out of his phone. He wasn’t proud of it, but he just needed to know.

He typed her name into Google - and the first result was her clinic. Apparently she owned her own clinic. He clicked onto the website.

Instantly, impossibly beautiful people smiled back at him. His eyes screened the text:

Botox.

Dermal fillers.

Body contouring.

Chemical peels.

Reveal the best version of yourself.

Jack stared at the screen. “Oh, come on!”

She returned to the table and he slipped the phone away quickly. She sat down and continued their conversation as if no interruption had happened.

For a few minutes it worked. Then Jack couldn’t hold back any longer.

“So, you’re a plastic surgeon” he said.

She smirked. “Um. Yes.”

“And you have your own clinic?”

She picked up her wine glass. “Yes, I do.” She took a sip. “Did you just google me?”

Jack looked caught. “Maybe.”

She laughed. “You know, most people wait at least until after dessert to stalk their date.”

“I’m an emergency physician. We’re suspicious by nature.”

“I see.” She took another sip. “So, what about my clinic?”

Jack hesitated for the fraction of a second, then decided honesty was probably the best strategy. “You really spend your days injecting Botox?”

She lowered her glass. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You managed to make that sound judgmental and condescending at the same time. That’s a skill. Really.”

Jack winced. “That wasn’t exactly my intention.”

“Oh, come on. It absolutely was.”

He sighed. “Look. I spend my shifts trying to keep people alive. And you… well… you treat things that weren’t medical problems in the first place.”

She put her glass back on the table. “There it is.”

“What?”

“This thing.”

“What thing?”

“The belief that your version of medicine is somehow more important than everyone else’s.”

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it again. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

She leaned back in her chair. “So, how deep went your research?”

He frowned. “Enough.” A small pause. “Why?”

“Did you find my hospital profile?”

Jack tilted his head. “You mean - your clinic profile?”

“No.” She let out a small laugh. “My hospital profile at the UPMC.”

Jack suddenly felt less confident. “Uh-”

She folded her hands together, tilting her head. “So, you missed the part then where I spend two days a week reconstructing faces for trauma patients.”

Jack blinked. “What?”

She shrugged. “Facial reconstruction after car accidents. Or dog attacks. Or industrial injuries. Or for burn victims.” The amusement had mostly disappeared from her expression now. “I did a twelve-hour reconstruction on a teenager last month after she went through a windshield.”

Jack swallowed. “Oh.”

“Yeah - oh.” For the first time she looked genuinely annoyed. “You know what’s funny?”

“Hm?”

“Just because I said I work in plastic surgery, you immediately decided you knew exactly who I was. I think emergency physicians sometimes forget they’re not the only doctors doing meaningful work.”

Jack rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, well, okay - that’s a fair point.”

She let out a long breath, then looked at him. “You’re kind of arrogant, Jack.”

He blinked. “Ouch.”

“Which is probably kind of a side effect of working in an emergency department. I think that kind of hubris comes with the territory.”

Jack frowned. “That’s not fair. And well - you do own a beauty clinic. You do sell unnecessary beauty treatments to people who don’t really need them.”

She smiled again. “Okay, so you also didn’t read about my volunteer work then.”

“What volunteer work?”

Her smile widened. “Oh, wow this is getting better and better.” 

Jack was the one looking annoyed now. “What does that mean?”

“Every year I spend four weeks in Africa doing reconstructive surgery.”

Jack froze. “What now?”

“Mostly babies with cleft lip and palates, but sometimes trauma reconstruction and congenital defects. Usually whatever walks through the door.”

He stared at her. “You do that? Every year?”

“Yeah, for almost fifteen years now. I usually use most of my vacation time for this.”

Jack blinked, completely off guard. “Why?”

This question seemed to surprise her. “Because somebody should, right? And I’ve got the skillset. The clinic pays well so the cosmetic side funds a lot of things. You know - staff, surgical supplies, flights, accommodation.”

“You pay for that yourself?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, most of it.”

“That’s expensive. Why not just take donations?”

“Because then I’d spend half my year asking people for money instead of operating.” Her voice was calm.

The first time all evening Jack went quiet. Very quiet.

She noticed. “So, I imagine this is the part where you’re considering a few things. Because you didn’t think the beauty doc opposite you does something meaningful, right?”

Jack cleared his throat.

But before he could say anything she continued. “You know I always need extra hands on those trips.”

Jack furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Usually I recruit trauma surgeons, but I suppose an emergency physician would do in a pinch. Worst case, I can teach you how to pass instruments. I mean - if you don’t mind terrible coffee and places with questionable plumbing. But you work at the PTMC so I guess you’re used to that.”

He laughed out loud. “Wow, ouch.” Then he paused for a second. “You always recruit people on first dates?”

“I recruit useful people wherever I find them.”

“One hell of a strategy, I must say.”

“And honestly?” She took another sip of wine. “I haven’t decided whether I want to go on a second date with somebody carrying that much prejudice. So I guessed I needed to shoot my shot early.”

Jack barked out a laugh. “Prejudice?”

“Yeah, textbook actually.”

“That’s unnecessarily dramatic.”

“You googled me - badly, I must say-, found my website and immediately assumed my life’s work consisted of inflating lips and nothing else.”

Jack pouted. “I did not assume that.”

“You might be a skilled physician but you are a terrible liar.”

He laughed again.

She smiled over the rim of her glass. “So, I tell you what, Mr. Darcy.”

Jack frowned. “My name is Abbot.”

Now she was laughing. “Oh God, Jack. Please don’t tell me you don’t know your classics.”

He frowned harder.

“Pride and Prejudice? Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth? Does any of this ring a bell?”

He needed a minute to get what she was saying. Then he closed his eyes. “Oh.” A pause. Then- “I don’t like that. At all.”

“Too bad.” Another shrug. “So, if you survive four weeks of reconstructive surgery in Africa without making assumptions about anybody - patients, staff, surgeons, nurses, me - then I’ll consider a second date.”

He stared at her. He had no clue whether he was being insulted here or flirted with - the irritating thing was that it was probably both. And somehow that made him want the second date even more.

Jack knew he shouldn't have left you. He'd had a feeling. The looming dread that had been creeping up on him the past couple of weeks. 

You'd been feeling out of it for a while now. A lethargic and nauseating achiness you couldn't quite shake, no matter how much tylenol or herbal teas you’d tried. 

You had played it off as nothing. Just a headache that came and went. An upset stomach due to the day old chinese food you’d eaten. 

“It's fine, Jack. I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m okay. I’m here. You don't have to worry.”

But Jack worried. 

He was always worrying. 

He knew that little things sometimes added up to a bigger, meaner somethings. That if you missed the signs, you might catch it too late. 

What exactly? Jack wasn't sure. He didn’t particularly want to find out.

But he sure as hell wasn't gonna let you blow it off now. 

His heart pounds as the ambulance finally pulls into the bay, the emergency lights blaring an ugly red and orange. Jack bary registers the EMT saying hello to him, his eyes focused on your splayed out form, laying on the gurney. 

“Hey baby,” he says, voice cracking slightly. 

“Jack,” you look up at him blearily, your eyes hazy, a bandage already taped to your forehead. Jack is quick to come by your side as the EMT lowers the gurney, his hand running over the back of your hair.

“One of the bystanders said she hit her head going down. It's not too bad. Just needs some cleaning. Same for her legs,” the EMT says to Jack as she watches him carefully lift the bandage. 

Jack lets out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and leading your gurney back into the Pitt. 

“What the hell Jack. You just ran off-” Robby calls out, watching Jack come back in. He stops once he sees you, your scraped up knees and bandaged head, the confused expression on your face. “What happened?” 

“She fainted. We’ll need to start her on an iv, get her fluids and run a couple of blood tests. Do you still feel dizzy?”

“I don’t… Jack, what’s going on?” You look up at Jack, confused, panic written across your face. Jack looks back at the EMT who shakes her head.

“She was having trouble remembering the fall. Only remembers her headache and feeling sick.” 

Jack remembers how you had looked this morning. The purple bruises around your eyes and the wince you'd tried to hide when he said goodbye. 

“I don't have to go in today. Shen can cover if Robby really needs him to.”

“Go Jack. They need you more than me.”

He should have known better. 

Robby comes beside the railing of the gurney, helping to pull it into a trauma room. You look around, your chest beginning to rise and fall quicker as your eyes begin to clear of the confused fog.

“What’s going on?” 

“Jack, stay with your wife.”

“I am with her,” he throws back at Robby, turning to grab the bag of fluids Princess was moving to hand him.

“No. Stay with her as Jack. Not Dr. Abbot,” Robby tosses back, gesturing to your wide and fearful eyes. Jack swallows thickly, torn. 

Especially when you groan, turning towards Robby and vomiting off the side of the gurney railing. 

Jack’s heart hurts, pounding heavily against his sternum. You were here. The one place he hated seeing you.

Jack knows he can help take care of you right now. Bandage you up and order labs. He can solve the mystery behind why you were suddenly so ill. Why you haven’t been feeling well lately. 

He can handle that. Dr. Jack Abbot, night attending and army vet, can handle bad news.

But just Jack. Mr. Jack Abbot, loving husband and worried widower, cannot. 

He can’t take another bad diagnosis.

Jack looks up at Robby who’s helping Princess clean up the vomit, and then back at you. And he makes a decision.

“Hey,” Jack says, pushing down the railing on his side of your gurney and sitting on the edge. “Hey, honey-” He takes your head in his hands, taking the damp cloth Robby hands him and helping to clean your face. 

Jack sits with you, his scrub top abandoned, his hand clasped tightly over yours. He watches as the color slowly comes back into your face, helps you take a sip of juice when your hand trembles too much to hold the cup. He stays silent for it all, Robby cleaning and bandaging your scrapes, Perlah coming in to draw your blood, the hospital gown Princess helps you into. He watches it all with a wariness. An awful churning in his gut.

A fear gnawing away at him. 

“Jack,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. He hums, glancing up at you from where he was sitting beside your gurney. “It’s going to be alright.” 

“I know,” he whispers back. You hadn’t said much to each other. Mostly hushed whispers and clinging to each other's hand. Like raising your voices was too much for the already overstimulating hospital room.

Jack’s knee is bouncing up and down anxiously. He couldn’t help it, his mind turning over the many diagnoses, the myriad of things that could be wrong with you. You gently wrangle your hand out of his iron grip, reaching over to rest it on his jostling knee. Jack stills at the feeling of your warm palm over the fabric of his scrub pants, swallowing. You smile.

“Whatever it is… we’ll be okay.” 

"I know," Jack repeats again. But it's hard to really believe it.

He's been here once before. A hospital room just like this. The woman he loves loved sitting by his side. Slowly wasting away. And he didn’t even know it. 

He sees the symptoms, too familiar and painful. The exhaustion and fatigue that wore you down. The migraines and brain fog, lethargicness and nausea that plagued you. He sees it and he knows. Whatever labs Robby is currently looking at holds a future he’s not sure he’s ready for. 

You sigh, your hand moving upwards to run through his salt and pepper curls. They had already been mussed and messed up from his own hand raking through them. Jack sighs at the feeling, closing his eyes and leaning his head against your side. You hum, holding him close.

“I didn’t even get to do any shopping. I just… passed out in the parking lot.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Jack mumbles into your gown. “I’ll order some groceries for delivery later.”

“I really wanted to get that new cream cheese to try. The one with the jalapenos.” You sigh. “Gosh, I wish they could just inject that into my iv. Maybe I’d perk up faster.”

Jack can’t help but crack a smile. You hum happily, still petting his hair. 

“There he is.” Jack looks up at you, his mouth open to say something. To apologize for worrying. For being so scared.

But he doesn’t get a chance.

The door to your room opens, Robby’s familiar silhouette shadowing behind the curtain.

“Jack?”

Jack clears his throat. “Yeah?” 

Robby peeks his head through the fabric. 

“I’ve got the test results back.” He comes in and sits down on the stool by the foot of your bed with a grunt. You give Jack a nervous look, your hand finding his again. He takes it, squeezing gently. Grounding. Robby clears his throat. 

“Well, your blood panels came back fine. No signs of infection or disease.”

“So…what is it? What’s wrong with her?” Jack asks, swallowing thickly. Robby looks down at the lab work in his hands, peering over the frames of his glasses at the two of you.

“Nothing.” 

The word hits harder than Jack could have expected. Of all the things he had anticipated-

You frown, looking confused.

“Nothing,” you repeat, the question no louder than a breath of air. Robby smiles and nods.

“Well, nothing that won’t go away in nine months. Congratulations kids. You're gonna have a baby." 

Both of you go very still. Your mouth falls open, Jack’s eyes practically bug out of his head. Robby sits there smugly, folding the lab results over.

“A…” Jack starts, trailing off as he leans forward. Surely he’d heard Robby wrong.

“I- a baby?” You ask, dumbstruck. 

“Hmm.” Robby nods. “From what I can tell you’re roughly six weeks along. Of course, you’d need an ultrasound and larger blood panel to be able to tell more accurately.” 

“Pregnant,” Jack breathes. His eyes dart around the room, finally meeting Robby’s. “But how?”

Robby raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a simple process. I don’t think I have to explain the exact mechanics on conceiving to you Jack-”

"No, I know- I mean how... I can't even...

"We aren't exactly prime candidates for conceiving," you finish for Jack.

He can feel your fingers wrap tighter around his hand, your shoulder brushing against his.

Robby gives you a look, his features softening. “I know. I know, I don’t know why. It happens. Sometimes fertility problems resolve themselves. No on can pinpoint why exactly. Could be hormonal changes, medication changes, reduced stress-”

You and Jack finally glance over at each other. He looks at you, eyes raking over your face, the glimmer of hope you were trying to hide. And it hits him.

The sabbatical, he thinks. The long overdue vacation he'd finally gotten around to taking. 

Three months without either of you worrying about work or patients. Three months of just the two of you; long walks in the park, lazy mornings spent in bed. Decadent yet nutritious dinners and way too many trips to the ice cream shop down the street. 

Leaving behind the worries of your every day. 

The sabbatical he’d finally come back from not even a few weeks ago. Just before you had begun to get sick-

You're the first to smile. A small curve upwards, more nervous than anything. 

"I'm pregnant." 

Jack breathes heavily in his chair. 

“You are,” Robby smiles. You take a shaky breath, unsure of what to say. “There’s quite a few things we’ll have to go over. I’m sure Jack knows this speech like the back of his hand, but it’s still customary…”

Jack is half listening as Robby goes on about the usual procedure. The prenatal vitamins you’ll need, the appointments you’ll have to set up. The safety precautions and symptoms and internal changes. The risks considering Jack was older and you weren’t very young yourself.

Jack is so far zoned out he doesn’t even realize you’re calling his name.

“Jack. Honey," you shake his shoulder, frowning. “Are you okay?” 

Jack opens his mouth, looking between you and Robby. He glances once at your stomach. Hidden behind the hospital gown. Looking exactly like it had yesterday. 

But it was different. There wasn’t some disease growing inside you. Some foreign thing making you sick and slowly sucking the life out of you.

There was a baby growing there. You were sick because you were making another life. 

Jack is hit by the realization that for the next nine months, you were going to be going through all kinds of changes. All kinds of hurdles and milestones. 

A baby.

Jack suddenly feels sick.

“I have to go,” he blurts, shaking your hand off of his shoulder and beelining out of the hospital room.

“Jack!” You call out, your voice raising with surprise. 

“I just need some air!”

Jack doesn’t turn back. He can’t. He can’t let you see the utter terror written on his face. 

He marches down the hall, ignoring the looks the nurses give him, the confusion Trinity and Mel share as he storms out down the crowded hallway and to the stairwell.

------------------------------------------------------

You find Jack outside. Not on the roof like you’d panicked he’d be. 

Robby had come back, shaking his head, trying to calm your racing heart.

No. After finally convincing Robby to let you help him look, You find Jack sitting on one of the benches in the park across the way from PTMC. He’s sitting there, elbows braced against his knees, staring off into the distance.

You approach him carefully, blades of grass crunching beneath the slip on clogs the hospital provided. Your clothes feel cold against you, comforting and familiar after the scratchy hospital gown. You glance back at Robby who stands at the edge of the park. He nods, encouraging you to keep going. 

As you get closer, you realize Jack’s not just staring off at nothing. You catch sight of his eyes, focused and glistening beneath the late afternoon light. You follow his sight line, watching a little family on the other side of the park. A broad shouldered man tossing a foam ball to a toddler girl, her mother laughing as her girl toddles about. 

You watch Jack for a moment, staying out of his sight line. You don't have to try very hard to guess what he's thinking about. The sheer amount of worry and confusion he's feeling. 

You felt it yourself. The whiplash of expecting the worst outcome only to learn you were carrying something wonderful. There was still the nervousness of what the future would look like. 

The schedules that would need rearranging, the house child proofed, your office room cleared out in space for another little person. Doctors appointments and ultrasound photos taped to the fridge, onesies and books and diapers tucked away in a closet. 

In spite of the excitement you felt, the confused yet exhilarating feeling of knowing you were going to be a mother, you were scared. 

There was a whole person you'd have to take care of. You'd have to grow and birth. You weren't exactly a spry chicken. Neither was Jack. And there were more risks and complications that came with that.

On top of all the things that came with pregnancy. 

You might not be dying from some malady. But pregnancy was no small thing either. 

You finally take a step forward, placing your hand gently on Jack’s shoulder. He snaps out of his stupor, back straightening, a panic written in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be up-”

“I’m okay.” He frowns. You point to the space beside him on the bench. “Can I sit?” 

Jack nods, scooting over a bit. You sit. Jack wipes his eyes with the palm of his hand; being closer now, you can see they’re red rimmed and glassy. He doesn’t look at you. Not at first.

But he’s the first to open his mouth again.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run out if there. That was a dick move."

You swallow against the thick lump in your throat, trying to keep the well of anger rising at bay. It wasn’t hard to. The fear and anxiety laid bare in Jack’s voice. The thoughts he tried so hard to hide from you unveiled. 

You nod. “Yeah. It kinda was." 

He takes a breath, reaching out to hold your hand. You take it, his thumb brushing along the ridge of your knuckles.

"I just... this whole time I was worried I was going to lose you. I kept thinking about all the ways I’d have to watch you die. All the treatments or surgeries…” he chuckles dryly. “I was so worried about you. And now all I’m thinking about is how we’re going to have a kid walking down the aisle in a cap and gown when I’m 70.” 

You sigh, the breeze a gentle comfort as it blows against your cheeks.

“That's all you’re thinking about? College already?” You give his hand a small, loving squeeze. Teasing. A clearing amidst the stormy turmoil you both had been worrying over.

“Well,” he shrugs slowly. “You know, between wondering if the pregnancy will hold. Or birth. Or what elementary school drop offs will look like and dinners and the house and my crazy schedule-”

“I know. I know, it’s a lot.”

Jack nods. “It is… and I’m scared.”

You look at him. Your heart aches with the pure sincerity written on his face. Jack was never one to hide his feelings. But he rarely gave them away easily. Not like this.

Truth written in the glassy mist of his eyes, the worry carried in the tightness of his hand around yours.

“I know,” you nod. “I know it’s not going to be easy. Robby explained the risks.” 

The long list of complications and genetic disorders and risky side effects run through your mind. You hadn’t known just how fragile pregnancy became the older you got. It was just never something that had crossed your mind. To think or worry about. But now…

You continue.

“I know this wasn’t what we had planned, Jack. Us. Having kids… and I know you may not want- may not think we can do this. But I don’t think this is such a bad thing.”

Jack’s eyes widen, his frown deepening.

“What, woah. No I don’t want you thinking that. I don’t- I don’t think that.” 

“Really?” You take a deep breath, hopeful. Jack finally smiles. A small and gentle quirk of his mouth.

“Really. And I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I just… I didn’t think that I could have one.” 

“A baby?” You clarify. He nods.

“I told you about what happened in the army. With my leg and, well, everything else. And you told me having kids wasn’t exactly going to be easy for you.” It’s your turn to nod.

Between Jack’s injury and age, your genetics and seemingly lackluster fertility, a baby had just never been a part of your plan. And you were fine with it. Life was crazy enough as it was.

“I know. But here we are.”

Jack nods, looking out into the park again. He’s watching the small family again, eyes glued to the man as he hoists his giggling daughter into his arms.

“Here we are,” he mumbles. 

“We don’t have to figure everything out right now Jack. There’s still time.” 

“Seven months and two weeks,” he huffs. You chuckle.

“Right. Plenty of time.”

------------------------------------------------------

Robby makes Jack leave the hospital early with you. 

Although Jack would use the term ‘make’ loosely, considering he had already decided he wasn’t staying the moment he saw you in the ambulance’s hull. You’re cleared to leave not long after Robby drags the both of you back into the ED, making sure to stop by the pharmacy to pick up your new prescriptions. 

The prenatal vitamins and nausea medication sit among Jack’s own clutter of meds on the kitchen counter. Jack told you not to worry about groceries or the car still at the store. He’d take care of all of it in the morning.

For now, he just wanted to clean away the sterile smell of the hospital lingering on both of your clothes and get to bed.

He’s grateful, for once, that you're exhausted enough to fall asleep the minute your head hits the pillow. You’re breathing softly beneath the sheets before Jack can even pull his prosthetic off, your hand lain out on his side, like you still wanted him to hold it unconsciously. 

But sleep doesn’t come for him. Jack lays awake for a long while. 

The moonlight casts wispy shadows along the wall and he watches them, thinking. He plays with his wedding ring, twirling it between his fingers with mesmerizing ease. 

Not the ring you'd slipped onto his left hand years ago, the dark amber band that still glistens on his ring finger. Jack plays with the wedding ring he wore a long time ago, still a young man figuring things out. From his first marriage. His first wife.

It wasn't often he pulled the ring out. Sometimes it hurt too much to even look at it; to think about and remember her. Jack fiddles with the ring now, holding it against his lips as if he could whisper all his worries into it.

The worries which still rested in the side of his ribs, changed but there all the same. Jack can’t help but think of all the things he never got to do with her. The future they’d planned cut short by an illness he couldn’t cure. Maybe it’s why he felt so scared now. 

This unplanned thing laid out before him. Far out of his control.

Jack tosses and turns, his mind reeling with memories and thoughts about the future. He quietly gets up, setting the ring on his nightstand and fitting his prosthetic back on. He slips out of your bedroom, making sure you were still settled before wandering down the hall.

He’d always wanted to be a father. That wasn’t the problem. Hearing that you were pregnant had resurfaced those feelings like they’d never been buried. The idea of having a mini him, with matching curls and crooked smile. Or a mini you, with your bright eyes and pretty nose.

The problem was that desire had been locked away for a very long time. After he got injured in the army. After he became a widow. Even after he met you. Jack had begun to accept that being someone’s parent was just not in the cards he’d been dealt. But now…

Jack stands in the living room, staring around the dark room. He moves quietly, picking up a random glass and setting it in the kitchen, moving the tossed couch pillows back into their designated places. He can’t sit still when he tries. The air suffocating inside in spite of the cooling system blowing gently.

Jack ends up sitting outside on the back porch, his head in his hands. 

What would she have thought? After all this time. 

A baby. 

Jack’s not even sure he should begin to want this. To let himself hope. There was so much uncertainty with a later in life pregnancy, of an older parent conceiving a child. The constant what ifs and complications. So much to worry about.

Jack sighs, running a hand through his mussed curls as he realizes how tired he is. Of feeling on edge. Of never feeling like he could settle. The worry of something bad happening again. Of being all alone-

A noise sounds from the bushes running along the fence.

Leaves rustle softly, twigs crunching beneath something weighty. Jack looks up, brows furrowing. He squints, standing and flipping on the porch light to illuminate the dark backyard. The rustling sounds again, and Jack inches closer.

He pauses. And then he lets out a disbelieving laugh, instantly quieting himself.

The rabbit which had ducked back into the foliage at the sound of his voice peeks it’s head out again in the new silence. Her nose twitching, beady black eyes staring straight into Jack. He lets out a breath, in awe of the rare sight. He knew there were plenty of rabbits that lived around the neighborhood. He often saw where they burrowed through your garden or ate certain plants. But actually seeing one was rarer.

Of all the nights…

He goes still when the rabbit moves. Inching slowly out of the bush. She turns back, snuffling softly and moving forward again. A baby in tow.

Now, Jack was not a very superstitious man. At least, not by nature. He laughed when Ellis chastised him for saying the “q” word in the ED, rolled his eyes when Joy and Nazely talked about karma.

But if life had taught Jack anything, it was to never ignore the signs. 

He watches the pair of rabbits hop through the backyard, eyes following their path until they squeeze through the cracked boards of the fence, disappearing into the night. Jack lets out a slow and much needed exhale, the cool air of the night finally feeling fresh.

New.

Second chances that don't always happen every day.

Baby rabbit. 

Baby Abbot.

He liked the sound of that. And maybe, this time, there wouldn’t be so much to worry about. Not with you by his side. 

------------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

"Jaack!" You call out from the kicthen, where you're putting the first few bags of groceries away.

"Yeah?" Jack's voice echoes down the hall, the sound of more paper bags rustling.

"Did you get- never mind!" You grin as you find the tub of cream cheese you'd been dying to get your hands on, practically tearing the package open and digging in. You let out a satisfied hum as you eat a spoonful of the spicy spread, nodding in satisfaction.

Jack enters the kitchen, arms full of groceries, an amused look on his face.

"As good as you'd hoped it'd be?" You hum again.

"Better. I think your child already has great taste in cuisine."

Jack stills for a fraction of a second, then smiles. He sets down the bags and moves over by your side, pressing a kiss to your forehead, carefully around the tender cut still hidden by a bandage.

"Yeah they do."

You both put away the food and various household items you'd needed to stock up on. Trash bags and pasta, that lavender creamer you loved and Jack's protein bars he always carried in his scrub pockets.

You munch on a bagel- properly toasted and spread with your cream cheese because Jack insisted on at least being civilized about your cravings- going through the last bag. The bag crinkles as you feel around inside; you frown as your hand comes into contact with something soft. Fluffy. You peer inside.

A little stuffed bunny peers back at you. You stare at it for a moment, and then you laugh.

"Jack?"

"What?" He asks, folding the towel he'd just used to wash his hands. You smile, holding up the bunny. His ears go pink and he gives you a bashful grin.

"I just thought... well I thought it might be cute for the baby. You know, rabbits are thought to be good luck charms or something."

You laugh, bright and hopeful and so in love.

"You're so sweet, you know that Jack Abbot?"

------------------------------------------------------

I am actually so obsessed with peter rabbit, it's not even funny. and I love the silly "jack rabbot" joke.

You were utterly submerged in the rhythmic domesticity of folding laundry, your headphones snug and your hips swaying—almost instinctively—to the music that anchored your private world. You had squeezed every drop of productivity from your day off: an exhaustive marathon of errands, heavy shopping bags filled with the absurdly expensive luxuries Brendon favored, and the endless hum of the washing machine.

Yet, there wasn't a flicker of resentment for having "wasted" your freedom on chores. Each time you smoothed a T-shirt or triumphed in matching a pair of socks—a feat far more complex than it seemed, as if they possessed a supernatural urge to vanish—a small, secret smile tugged at your lips. You couldn't stop visualizing your husband’s reaction.

Would he mirror your radiance? Or would he succumb to the phantom of panic since, in his own haunting words, "he’d never been granted a decent paternal example"? That doubt lingered in the back of your mind, but it only served as the fuel for your fire. Everything had to be impeccable. Today wasn't just housework; it was a silent, frantic race to ensure every detail of your home was a sanctuary. The life already blossoming within you deserved nothing less. It hadn't been a calculated pursuit—simply a choice to stop running, to step back and let fate take the lead.

Now that fate had spoken, Brendon deserved to hear the echo in a way he’d never forget. Between cycles of the wash, you had choreographed the moment perfectly. You wanted him to step through that door after a grueling shift at the hospital and find more than just a clean house—you wanted him to find the threshold of his new reality, neatly packaged in a box on the table containing a pair of tiny, shark-printed shoes.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, the music acting as a barricade against the world, that you missed the subtle creak of the front door. You didn't hear the heavy, exhausted sigh as Brendon dropped his keys into the ceramic bowl. You were still lost in the melody, carrying the final stack of clean clothes toward the dressing room, when large, warm hands suddenly cinched around your waist.

The shock was electric. You jumped, the sudden jolt sending a freshly folded cotton shirt tumbling to the floor. You spun quickly within his grasp, headphones still clinging to your ears, to meet your husband’s gaze. The exhaustion of a marathon shift in the operating room was etched into the tension of his shoulders, but his eyes held that soft, guarded light—the look he reserved exclusively for you—that never failed to make your pulse skip.

You slid the headphones down around your neck, discarding them onto the nearest surface without a thought.

"Your first day off in weeks and you spend it on labor, Sunny..."

"I slept in, Bren. Then I had a proper breakfast, got dressed, and conquered the shops," you replied with a tender smile, looping your arms around his neck and grazing the skin at his nape. "I bought those steaks you love. And I finally caught up on the laundry."

"You spoil me, Doll," he rasped. Before you could offer a retort, he closed the distance between you until there wasn't an inch of air to breathe.

His hands migrated from your hips to cradle your face with a fierce, possessive urgency as he kissed you. It was deep and desperate—a kiss born of longing and necessity, but anchored in a profound, quiet love. You felt the rigidity leave his frame as he melted against you, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones with a slowness that felt almost reverent.

"I’ve missed you every damn second of those sixteen hours," he whispered against your mouth, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. "I needed this. To feel you."

A lump of pure emotion tightened your throat. He had no inkling of the miracle growing in your womb—the tiny spark you had both kindled. You pulled back just enough to hold his gaze, keeping your hands on his chest with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Well, I’m right here... and I have something for you."

You slipped from his hold and walked to the dining table, where the small box rested on the dark oak. You lifted it with trembling care, as if the contents were made of spun glass, and returned to him. Brendon watched you with mounting intrigue, leaning lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a weary half-smile playing on his lips.

"A gift?" He arched a skeptical brow. "Doll, it’s not an anniversary or a birthday. You don’t need to buy me things."

"Just shut up and open it, Bren," you whispered, thrusting the box toward him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

He gave a soft, amused huff and took the package. His long, steady surgeon's fingers made quick work of the black ribbon, drawing out the suspense. But the moment he lifted the lid, the world went silent. His blue eyes locked onto the miniature shoes—tiny blue sharks, so small they could be swallowed by the palm of his hand.

He froze. He barely blinked, his analytical brain seemingly paralyzed by the image. The weariness evaporated, replaced by a sudden, stark pallor and a look of profound wonder.

"Doll..." His voice was a fractured whisper, his breath hitching as he delicately lifted one of the booties. "Tell me this isn't just a joke... tell me you didn't just find the design funny."

He looked up, searching your eyes for the permission to believe it.

"It’s not a joke, Bren. I’m nine weeks pregnant," you confirmed, your voice thick with tears. You placed your hands over his, which were still clutching the tiny shoe. "We’re having a baby, Big Guy."

The silence that followed was heavy and sacred. Brendon looked back down at the shoe, and for the first time in your years together, you watched a single, solitary tear track down his cheek.

Without a word, he sank to his knees. He pressed his forehead against your stomach, his arms wrapping around your waist with a desperate, grounding strength. It was the gesture of a man who had just found a new center of gravity.

"Nine weeks... a baby," he muffled against you, the vibration of his voice humming through your skin. "God, I’m going to be a father. I swear to you, Doll... I swear on my life I’ll be the best for them."

He stood, cupping your face once more to kiss you with a tenderness that nearly broke you.

"I'm buying a portable ultrasound machine," he announced, a flash of his usual professional authority returning as he wiped your tears away. "I don't care what it costs. I want to see this baby and hear that heart whenever we want."

"An ultrasound machine, Bren?" you laughed through your sobs. "That’s insane, it’s not even your specialty."

"I’m an orthopedic surgeon, Doll. I can read an image better than half the residents in that building," he countered with that characteristic touch of arrogance that made you smile. "Besides, I’m not letting our peace of mind depend on a waiting list. If I need to hear that little heart beating at three in the morning just so I can sleep, then I will."

"I married a madman," you joked, leaning into him.

"You married the man who is going to protect you and that baby better than anyone on earth," he corrected fiercely. "Tomorrow, I’m calling Dr. Bishop. She’s the best OB in the city and she owes me for fixing her mother’s hip. You’ll be seen in her private clinic. You’ll just have to tolerate me wanting to listen to the heartbeat every five minutes."

He folded you into his arms, and in that embrace, you felt like the safest person in existence. He fell silent, resting his cheek atop your head as you both stared at the tiny shoe on the table. The "Shark" had finally laid down his armor.

"It’s going to be so small, isn't it?" he asked suddenly, his voice laced with genuine awe. "The bones... they'll be so delicate. God, I’ll have to learn not to squeeze too hard when I hold them."

"You won't hurt them. They'll be in the best hands in the world," you assured him, rubbing his back. "You’re going to be an incredible father, Big Guy. Overprotective, but incredible."

In that moment of raw vulnerability, it was clear: Brendon was already as deeply in love with the baby as he was with you. It didn't matter how formidable he was in the OR or how much he terrified his residents; here, in the quiet of your home, he was simply a man captivated by the new life beginning to pulse within you.

"I'll be whatever you need," he promised, kissing your hair. "Rest now, Doll. I’ll take care of you both."

He wasn't lying.

Nine months later, you were a study in heavy, aching anticipation. Your daughter was a tempest, kicking your ribs with a relentless energy she had clearly inherited from her father. You felt as though you might split at the seams, yet stubbornness—another trait you shared with your husband—drove you from the bed. You wanted to brew one last pot of coffee for Brendon while he showered, preparing for his final shift before paternity leave.

But as your feet hit the floor, it wasn't a contraction that halted you. It was a strange, sudden rush of heat—the unmistakable sensation of liquid soaking through your clothes and pooling onto the hardwood. You froze, staring at the puddle with the eerie, detached composure that only an ER nurse could maintain in a crisis.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Brendon emerged in a shroud of steam, a towel slung low on his hips and his torso still glistening with droplets. He stopped dead when he saw you standing there, staring blankly at the floor. His blue eyes swept the room, processing the scene in a fraction of a second. There was no first-time-father panic; there was only the absolute, chilling calm of a surgeon.

"Bren... I just—" Your voice was a thin whisper.

"I know, Doll. It seems our daughter has a very loose interpretation of due dates," he replied. His voice was so steady it sent a shiver of pure relief down your spine.

There was no frantic rushing. Brendon dropped the towel and dressed with the clinical efficiency of a soldier on a mission. In a heartbeat, you were swept into his arms and carried down to the garage. He settled you into the leather interior of his BMW X6, reclining the seat just enough to keep you secure but comfortable.

"Bren, the upholstery..." you wheezed as a fresh contraction stole your breath.

"I can replace leather, Doll. I can't replace you two. The only thing that matters is getting you to that hospital," he said, cinching the belt over your belly with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

He rounded the hood in three long strides and slid into the driver's seat. With a flick of his wrist, the engine roared to life. The drive was a masterclass in precision. Brendon kept one hand locked on the wheel, carving through the morning fog with surgical accuracy, while his other hand sought yours, squeezing tight every time a contraction forced your back to arch. His eyes flicked between the road and you, monitoring your vitals as if you were his most critical patient.

"She had to pick rush hour," you hissed through gritted teeth. Pittsburgh’s morning traffic was a legendary hellscape; the path to PTMC felt like an impossible gauntlet.

A new contraction, far more violent than the last, forced your eyes shut. You gripped his thigh with a force that would have made any other man falter, but Brendon didn't flinch. He absorbed your pain as if it were his own.

"She’s impatient. Clearly, she didn't get that from me," he joked, his voice a low rumble designed to ground you as he swerved around a delivery truck. "Breathe, Doll. You’re doing perfectly. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known."

"God, I don't think I'm doing this again, Bren..." you gasped, the pressure becoming unbearable. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't you dare apologize. Not for this," he countered instantly, his voice thick with devotion. He kept his left hand fixed on the wheel, dodging a slow-moving sedan, while his right hand remained a steady weight on your leg. "If this impatient little girl is the only one we ever have, she’ll be the luckiest, most loved child in this fucking world. I don't need another miracle to know how incredible you are. I just need you two safe."

You looked at his profile—a sharp, concentrated line of marble. There was no trace of the panic a normal father would feel. He was a surgeon in the middle of the most vital operation of his life, and you were his only priority.

"Bren... she’s crowning," you exhaled, the downward pressure forcing you to arch against the leather.

The atmosphere in the car shifted instantly. The air grew dense, electric. Brendon’s jaw tightened until the muscle looked carved from stone. You were gridlocked just blocks from the hospital. Time had run out.

"Damn it," he growled, though his voice remained low. "Okay, Doll. Listen to me. We aren't waiting for this traffic to move. We both know she isn't going to wait for a parking spot."

He shifted in his seat, placing a firm, steady hand on your stomach.

"Unbuckle the belt. Get your pants off. Now, beautiful. Don't worry about the car, just focus on me."

"We should call Dana... tell her to get the OB team ready..." you managed to stutter, your hands trembling as you fumbled with the fabric.

Brendon didn't take his eyes off you, but he slammed the hands-free button. "Call Dana Evans," he commanded. "Now, Doll. Get rid of the clothes. Forget everything else. Let's bring our daughter home."

The phone rang over the speakers just as you managed to kick the clothes to the floor. Dana’s authoritative voice filled the cabin. "Park? Why are you calling? Is everything okay with Sunshine?"

"Dana!" you shrieked, clutching the ceiling handle so hard the plastic groaned. "I’m in the car and she’s coming! I’m crowning!"

There was a half-second of silence—the time it took for a veteran nurse to shift gears. "Sunshine! Stay calm! Don’t push unless you can’t stop it! Shark! Tell me you aren't driving like a maniac!"

"We’re stuck in traffic, Dana," Brendon interrupted, his voice reaching that terrifying level of calm he only used when a life was on the line. "Clear Trauma 1. I want OB and a Neo-team standing by the bay. We're coming in hot."

He cut the call. The traffic broke, but your daughter had reached the point of no return. The "ring of fire" consumed you, and your nails dug deep into Brendon's knee.

"Don't hold back, Doll. If you have to push, push," he ordered. He covered your hand with his, welcoming the sting of your nails.

The BMW roared as Brendon tore onto the shoulder, burning rubber to bridge the final meters to the PTMC ramp. You felt a final, explosive surge of nature—a force that ripped a scream from your lungs that likely echoed through the entire ward.

"Brendon!" you cried out, your hands reaching down to catch the small, slick body of your daughter as she slid into the world.

He slammed on the brakes in front of the ER doors, the screech of tires bringing security running. The engine was still ticking, hot from the race, but the world went silent when your daughter’s first cry—a high-pitched, indignant, life-filled wail—broke the air.

Brendon unbuckled and lunged toward your seat. His surgeon’s hands, which never wavered, joined yours to hold the warm miracle against your chest. He shed his linen jacket to cover her, shielding her from the morning air. His blue eyes, usually so clinical, were shimmering.

"She’s perfect, Doll. You’re... God, you’re incredible," he whispered, kissing your sweat-soaked brow.

"She already has your look of annoyance," you joked weakly, tears finally spilling over.

The ER doors burst open. Donnie and Jesse sprinted out with a gurney, their faces a mix of terror and awe.

"I see Baby Shark is just as impatient as her mother, eh, Sunshine?" Donnie shouted, rushing to cover you with a blanket as they helped Brendon move you to the gurney.

"Shut up, Donnie!" you barked, a laugh bubbling through your sobs. "I would have made it to the ward if the traffic in this city wasn't absolute shit!"

"Hey, watch the language, Sunshine! There are innocent ears present!" Jesse teased.

As they began to wheel you inside, Donnie—ever the instigator—pulled out his phone. He had been waiting for this moment since the day he found out "Park the Shark" was the father. He hit play and turned the volume to the max.

The low, menacing notes of the Jaws theme began to thrum through the ER hallway.

Tu-tum... tu-tum... tu-tum-tu-tum...

The ward ground to a halt. Robby froze mid-note; Langdon dropped his pen; the nurses exchanged looks of pure shock. Even Dana couldn't hide her grin. The Great White Shark of Orthopedics had entered the building, not to hunt, but to protect his brood.

Brendon walked beside the gurney, his hand resting firmly on the edge. He didn't care about the ruined shirt or his fearsome reputation. He only had eyes for you and the tiny creature on your chest.

"Donnie, you're an idiot," you laughed.

"What? Baby Shark deserves the entrance of the century," he retorted as they swung you into Trauma 1.

The baby, oblivious to the soundtrack, snuggled into your skin. But the joy of the room shifted as Robby stepped forward, his expression darkening.

"You know what's crazy, Sunshine?" Robby said softly as the team began their post-birth checks. "Today is a day of miracles and cruel ironies. Baby Jane Doe came back in thirty minutes ago."

You stiffened. The memory of the little girl from the 4th of July—the one you had held until the system took her away—hit you like a physical blow. You had grieved for her, fearing the system would fail her.

"What? Why?" you asked, your heart sinking.

Robby sighed, glancing at Dana. "Her foster mother 'forgot' she was in the back seat while running errands. She was locked in the car, Sunshine. In the direct sun. A passerby had to break the glass. She's lucky to be alive."

You looked down at your own daughter, so safe and warm, and then up at Brendon. The contrast was agonizing. You had fought through a city to save your child, while Jane Doe had been left to bake in a metal tomb.

The silence in the room was deafening. Brendon stood perfectly still, but the air around him turned cold. That predatory, protective calm settled over him.

"Forgotten?" The word fell from his lips like a death sentence. His gaze turned lethal. "You’re telling me that while I nearly wrecked my car to ensure my family was safe, that woman left a child in a furnace?"

"Exactly that," Dana confirmed, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "She’s dehydrated and the heat stroke was severe, but she’s a fighter."

You felt the echo of your own childhood—the cold uncertainty of the foster system—resonate in your chest. You couldn't let it happen again. Not to her.

"Brendon," you whispered, reaching for him.

He looked at you. In his eyes was the man who had just realized his family wasn't yet complete.

"They failed you, Doll," he said, his voice a low, lethal promise only you could hear. "But we are not going to fail her. Not again. I know how hard it was to let her go the first time. Fate is screaming at us to fix this."

The room went still as his meaning sank in.

"You mean...?" Your voice broke.

"We should have done it from the start," he said, kissing your temple. "There will be no more goodbyes, Doll. Baby Jane Doe is staying with us. I don't care who I have to call—she isn't going back."

A few hours later, the frantic pulse of the ER had faded into the profound stillness of a private suite on the maternity floor. The late afternoon sun began its slow descent over Pittsburgh, hemorrhaging gold through the windows and bathing the room in a warm, ethereal glow. You were reclined against a mountain of pillows, your newborn daughter—the little "Baby Shark" who had claimed her place in the world so violently—sleeping soundly in the bassinet beside you.

The door moved on silent hinges. Brendon stepped inside, still wearing the clothes from the birth, though he had scrubbed the day’s grime from his face. The shadow of fury that had darkened his features in the Trauma Box was gone, replaced by a quiet, triumphant serenity. In his arms, he carried a small, bundled weight wrapped in an immaculate white cotton blanket.

"Brendon?" you whispered, shifting carefully.

He didn't speak. He crossed the room with the measured grace of a man who had already won the war. With the delicate precision he reserved solely for you, he leaned down and deposited the bundle into your arms.

"Emergency custody has been granted," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the mattress and draping a protective arm around your shoulders. "The judge is a former colleague, and the Chief of Surgery personally signed the suitability reports. There is no more 'Jane Doe.' The paperwork dictates she remains with us until the adoption is finalized. We’re going to need to give her a name, Doll... something other than what that woman called her."

You looked down at the infant. She was barely three months old, her cheeks still flushed from the terrifying heat she had endured, but as she felt the familiar warmth of your touch, she blinked open those sweet, dark eyes that had haunted your dreams since July. She seemed to recognize you instantly; her lips mimicked a soft, seeking motion before she curled into your chest, tucking herself directly over the beat of your heart.

"Hello again, little one," you sobbed, the tears falling unchecked as you pressed a kiss to her temple. "I promised you back in July... I promised you that someone would love you. And we are going to love you so very much. My sweet Cordelia Ondina."

The baby let out a long, shuddering sigh, as if she had finally found the only place in the world where she was truly safe. The hollow ache that had lived in your chest since she was taken from you weeks ago vanished, healing scars you hadn't even realized were open.

Brendon leaned his forehead against yours, absorbing the sight of the perfect tableau: his wife, his biological daughter, and the little girl fate had refused to let him leave behind. The three women who now held his world in their hands.

"And to think, I said we’d only have one daughter... then fate hands us two," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you stroked Cordelia’s cheek. Your gaze drifted to the bassinet where Baby Shark slept on.

"Fate didn't hand us anything, Doll. It simply pointed the way," he corrected in a low, gravelly rasp, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble. "We took what was ours. And neither of them... they couldn't have asked for a better mother."

"And they couldn't ask for a better guardian, Big Guy," you whispered, brushing your nose against his. "The great Park 'The Shark'—the surgeon everyone fears, who turns out to have the largest heart I’ve ever known."

In the hallowed silence of the suite, there was only the rhythmic, synchronized breathing of the two infants. Though they had arrived by vastly different paths—one born in the leather-scented sanctuary of a luxury car, the other rescued from the cold abandonment of a failing system—they now shared a home, a future, and a name.

Brendon wrapped his arms around all of you, a living shield against the world outside. His blue eyes shone with a raw vulnerability—the kind only you could draw out, and the kind you suspected his daughters would eventually command as well.

"I love you, Doll," he whispered, the words heavy with a devotion that bordered on the sacred. "I love all of you. You are everything I ever wanted... even when I was too arrogant to know I needed it."

He kissed your forehead with a lingering, reverent slowness. Outside those doors, the hospital continued its frantic, chaotic dance, but inside the bubble of the suite, time stood still. You looked from Cordelia, dozing against your heart, to the bassinet where your youngest daughter rested, knowing that your real story—the one of the Shark and his girls—was only just beginning.

Robby hadn’t meant to be away from his phone for very long, but between the chaos of July 4th and the preeminent doubts of if he’d actually be coming back after three months, the device had been farthest from his mind and even farther from his pocket. 

Even now as he towered over the bassinet, the only thing on Robby’s mind was how innocent the small creature was compared to the tons-heavy load he carried in his soul, and how both of them, two sides of the scale, had been left to face the world alone. His chest ached more than it ever did; each breath desperately pushing against his ribs like they were trying to break free. Each small sound the baby made had Robby freezing, waiting for her to cry out like she had earlier. But each time, she ended up contently sighing before stilling, wide eyes looking up at him and his sorrow ladened face. 

He couldn’t help but reach out, desperate for one more small grasp of her entire, tiny hand around the width of his finger. A small chuckle bubbled from his chest when she was quick to do what he was wishing for. 

“You have a good grip,” he muttered with a small smile. “That’s good; means you’re already so nice and strong.” His smile slowly dropped. “You’re going to be just fine.” He paused before adding, “That’s more than I can say about myself.” 

All day, he withered away under the sad stares of his colleagues. Dana had briefly mentioned that she was nervous for him, Jack tried to get him to understand that, if he gave life a chance, everything could be better, and hell, even Whitaker tried to laugh about his offering of his house—not home, because it was too sterile to be called that—if he actually never returned. But when he saw the hopelessness in Baran’s eyes after he chastised her and threatened her job, or when he saw the burning resentment build in Samira’s after he degraded her for something so normal as a panic attack, or when he saw humiliation in Frank’s after he’d pretend not to care about his once protégé who was able to get his act together far better than he would ever, Robby couldn’t help but think that, yes, they were all going to be so much better without him. 

Robby couldn’t survive without the Pitt, but the Pitt could thrive without Robby. 

Without even realizing, tears started dripping down his cheeks again. 

He tried to wipe them away with his unoccupied hand, but the streams kept coming and coming, years of stunted and repressed emotions finally coming out in waves against the sand of his skin. 

How pathetic he thought himself to be. You have friends, a job, a house, and you’re crying while this baby has no one, and she’s perfectly content to hold onto your touch-starved finger. 

It couldn’t have been a few more mere minutes of enjoying the small bit of company before the door burst open, Robby’s shoulders hunching and body tensing instinctively. But his finger stayed still in the baby girl’s finger, every ounce of his body not wanting to be the cause of more cries from her little lungs. 

His neck turned stiffly, allowing his eyes to meet Dana’s gray hues. He looked back down quickly almost to hide the state of his obvious tear-stained face. 

“Yeah, Dana?” he asked gruffly. 

If she was about to lay it on him again, then he might have to leave the room and get headed on the road before anyone could stop him from leaving. That’s where he was supposed to be. He should have left the moment his shift was over with his bike between his legs, engine rumbling as he sped down the interstate, letting his hair freely catch the wind. He shouldn’t still be in the room, letting this abandoned baby hold onto him like a lifeline, allowing her to touch his tainted hands. 

“Phone’s been ringing off the hook, Cap,” she stated, holding the device up in one hand. “Ya currently have ten missed calls and a handful of messages.” 

Robby’s brows furrowed. He didn’t know who would be calling him that much when everyone who seemed to care about him was currently within the Pitt’s walls. 

“Is there a caller ID?” he asked, spine straightening while his finger stayed still. 

“Just a number,” she responded before walking the device over to him. 

Once it was in Robby’s hand, the device fell silent under his gaze. He thumbed through the messages without unlocking the phone, but as he strolled, the generic Please call me and Please answer it’s an emergency did nothing to help his utter confusion. For a moment, he wondered if someone had the wrong number until the first message at the very bottom read Michael, please pick up.

He had barely been able to type a few words into the message bar—one handed mind you—when the phone buzzed again, the same number flashing across the screen. He didn’t hesitate to swipe across for the call to go through. 

“This is Michael Robinavitch,” he said into the speaker. 

“Michael?” the shaky voice answered, and a small thank God followed in a whisper. 

Robby should have recognized the number, but the sound of your voice solidified his realization. However, his short-lived confusion quickly turned into deepened concern when your sob echoed in his ear and was trailed by a series of unintelligible words filled with harsh breathing and a few muffled whimpers. 

“Hey, hey,” he said. “Sweetheart, I need you to breathe.” 

Dana, who wasn’t privy to what you were saying, or at least trying to say, widened her eyes at the casual pet name that Robby said without much thought, almost like it was familiar between his teeth and tongue. 

Robby paid no mind to the charge nurse, suddenly more concerned with figuring out what the hell was going on. He couldn’t help but wince at the shuddering inhale and exhale that you took at his authority. 

“Okay, okay,” he said after a few more quiet moments. “What’s going on?” 

You whimpered again in response. “M-my ex w-was supp-supposed to—oh, fuck—” 

It hurt him to hear you so close to hyperventilating while he could only listen. “Hey,” he said a bit harder, trying to get you out of a panic. “You need to breathe before I can even try to help you with what’s going on, okay?” 

Dana got his attention with a wave of her hand. Robby looked up in time to see her mouth Do I need to call 911? to which he shook his head and mouthed back Not yet. 

When your breathing slowed a bit, you tried again. “He was supposed to be taker our—my baby to an app-appoint-appointment and now—” Another failed attempt at keeping another whimper in. “Now he doesn’t ha-have her and w-won’t tell me where sh-she is.” 

Robby’s grip on his phone tightened to the point of his knuckles going white, his eyes briefly falling to the baby who currently had fallen asleep holding onto him. 

“I-I know sometimes people take them to f-fire stations, but I called each one in the area, a-and they all said that no one’s dropped any b-babies off. Then I tried hospitals, and r-remembered you worked at one, and I just—” You inhale sounded watery this time. “Just hoped that you might h-have heard something,” you squeaked out the last bit, already biting back another sob. “I’m so-sorry for calling, but—” 

“How old is your baby, sweetheart?” he asked calmly. 

“Five weeks,” you sniveled out. “She’s five weeks today. And—oh gosh—how could this happen?” 

He could almost imagine you gripping your hair and tugging tightly at the roots as you spoke, something he knew you’d do under duress. He’d seen it happen too many times to count throughout college and well into adulthood.

“Do you know the last time he had her?” 

“He picked her up t-this morning. I’m so fucking stupid,” you hissed, voice sounding the steadiest since the call went through. “I had work, and my mom couldn’t take her so-so I thought—I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

Robby leaned over the bassinet again, eyes quickly scanning the sleeping baby, finger released form her grip in order to pull her small onesie down just enough to see her shoulder. “Does she have any identifying marks?” 

The line went silent for a split second. “She has a small birthmark on her shoulder. I swear it looks like messed up puzzle piece.” 

A rush of air filled Robby’s lungs to the point he felt dizzy. Staring up at him was the exact, described mark on Baby Jane’s shoulder. The baby that he’d been spilling his woes to was your baby, belonging to the girl who’d truly had his heart for years. 

“Sweetheart—” he began before you interrupted him. 

“I’m so sorry for calling so much, but I thought that if anyone knew anything, it’d be you.” 

Robby held the phone silently to his ear. You could have called anyone: the police, the main line, other hospitals where they might not have taken you seriously. Instead, after calling the firehouses with the drop boxes, you called him.

“Earlier today,” he started, his voice now on the edge of also being shaky, “one of my nurses found a baby in the waiting room.” 

Robby kept the part about where exactly in the waiting room she was found in to himself. He closed his eyes at your sudden, hopeful gasp. 

“A heathy, happy, and unharmed baby we estimated to be around six weeks.” He paused. “She has the mark, sweetheart. I think we have your baby here.” 

_______________________

You knew you probably looked like an escaped insane asylum patient. 

Wide eyes, trembling hands, hair messed up from pulling on it one too many times: all the wonkiness of your appearance was just a physical manifestation of hours upon hours of stress beyond measure. You tried to reign it in, but ever since Robby confirmed that your spiteful ex, in attempts to push you over the edge, had abandoned your baby all while you were working, your emotions were close to bursting out of skin. 

Somehow though, you managed to wade through the crowd waiting to be seen and get to the plexiglass shielded clerk desk without startling anyone. The kind woman behind the shield smiled up at you. 

“What brings you in, honey?” 

Your fingers twirled the ring around your pointer. “I’m here to see Michael Robinavitch?” 

Robby hadn’t told you where to come in, and even if he had, your head spun so fast that most of the words he said after I think we have your baby here was everything but audible past the roar of blood in your ears. You’d jumped into your car and drove straight here. And even if he had reassured that your baby was unharmed, you couldn’t be convinced until she was back in your arms. 

The woman had barely opened her mouth to answer before the door to your right clicked opened with Robby’s hand splayed widely against the metal and his body standing in the space between the waiting room and the ER. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You wanna come with me?” he asked, eyes filled with a soft kindness that had your tummy flipping.

You could barely contain the bob of your head as you walked over. Without even thinking much, you took a handful of Robby’s green pull over. Robby either didn’t care or didn’t notice since he said nothing while he took deliberate steps toward the room that had been housing the baby since there hadn’t been any room in the pediatric ward. 

He held the door open, and you quickly slipped past him, stopping just a few feet inside when you noticed the room wasn’t completely empty. A blond woman was currently hovering over the medical bassinet, however, she looked up at the sound of the door opening, her mouth stretching into a small smile. 

Robby let the door shut behind him, placing his hand on the small of your back before introducing you to the woman. “Dana’s our dayshift charge nurse. She made sure that if your baby needed anything, she’d get it.” 

You nodded mutely, slightly taken back by how sure Robby said your baby like something inside him subconsciously knew that she belonged to you and you alone. 

“You have a fine baby here,” Dana said, voice twanged with an accent. “Spent all day being loved on by our staff and taking naps between.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, not taking your eyes off the squirming baby. “Can I?” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Robby murmured with a soft push. 

Your steps were ginger and quiet as you walked closer. The moment your eyes traced her familiar features, a quiet sob bubbled through your lips. At the sound, your baby turned her head, small eyes tracking your face, even if you knew all she could probably see was a large blob. It wasn’t long until your hands were gently sliding under her neck and bottom and lifting her close to your face. You couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief as you nuzzled into her soft cheek. 

Apparently, the feeling was familiar enough that it made the baby smile slightly. She grunted and cooed against you as your hold readjusted her onto your chest. Her small hands immediately clenched fistfuls of your shirt while her head stayed pressed to your front. 

Robby and Dana couldn’t help but smile when you began to sway and gently press kisses onto her small head. 

“Hi, Shelly,” you muttered, nose taking in so much of her baby scent. “My sweet baby.” Your eyes watered to the point even a few blinks didn’t clear up your eyesight. You kept her close as you spun to face the other two occupants of the room. “Thank you both so, so much.” 

Dana smiled warmly. “We’re just glad she has a home.” Her grey eyes subtly glanced at Robby. “Now, I’m going to find our social worker, and get you some paperwork before you can take your little one home.” 

Your grip tightened ever so slightly. “Social worker?” 

Robby was quick to answer. “Just part of the process of getting her home. How bout I stay with you while Dana here gets all that in order.” 

With another nod of your head, the blond slipped out the door, leaving you and Robby alone with your baby, whose eyes were currently looking right over in his direction, something you didn’t miss at all. 

“She’s looking at you,” you softly said, eyes downcast at the top of her head. “Must mean she likes you.” You looked up at him. “Michael, I just can’t begin to thank you—” 

You stopped when he held up a hand. 

“No need,” he interrupted. “It’s all part of my job, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah, well, you stayed on the phone with me and talked me out of a panic. I count that as something.” 

Robby took a step closer, his right shoulder leaning a bit on your left as he looked down at her. “You made a very cute baby. Can’t believe how much time has passed since . . .” 

You glanced up over your shoulder and into his brown, sad eyes. “It has; hasn’t it? What are you up to? Other than running an emergency department, I mean. You used to talk about doing so all the time, but you must have a hobby or something.” 

He hesitated because, really, other than the ER he had nothing, meanwhile it seemed like you had done everything that he wanted: have a partner, get married, build a family. With a shake of his head, he rid himself of those thoughts. His hand rose and scratched at the back of his neck, blunt nails digging into his skin. 

“Other than my upcoming sabbatical, I don’t have very much going on,” he replied, voice tired and worn beyond anything you’d ever heard. 

“Oh.” You finally turned around fully, Shelly now the only thing between the two of you. “Well then, I must insist you come over for dinner. I know it’s late and that you have plans, Micheal, but please.” With all of Shelly’s weight in one arm, you gently rested your other hand on his bicep. “For us?” 

Now, truly, there was a lot that could make Micheal Robinavitch say no. Plans made between residents for drinks after shift were always politely declined, women who got the hots for the doctor title were horribly left on read after the second date, and urges to go to therapy by his closest friend were quickly shoved into his back pocket. 

However, one of the few things that could actually break his will power was the soft look you were giving him right now. The one that made it seem like the large gap of years hadn’t passed at all. The one he always thought was full of love before the two of you found different paths to take. 

He found himself agreeing before his brain even caught up. “Dinner sounds great.” 

And if he could keep that shining smile on your face for a bit longer, Robby decided that he’d stay for as long as possible just to see you look up at him like that.  

_______________________

Dinner, in his opinion, was the best meal he’d eaten in a long while. Between the sabbatical countdown and endless shifts that only gave him a few minutes to shove a bite of protein bar between his teeth, Robby was never one to make dinner or meal prep once he went back to his house. The walls were there only to shield him from the outside as he slept fitfully. 

But here in your home—home not house, because obviously you made the building into something warm—he found himself wishing he could stay forever. You had even let him hold onto Shelly while you cooked, letting your baby sleep against his heart like she’d known his feeling for ages. His big hands almost engulfed her entire, tiny body, and he caught you looking his way several more times than he thought necessary. 

Robby hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you put Shelly down to sleep, he was sunken into your couch with his glass from dinner, and you were tucked into the opposite corner. The sky outside held no indication that the sun was still visible, and he knew that his time with you was slowly winding down. 

“I should probably head out,” he mentioned with a sigh, like saying that was physically hurting him. 

He tried to ignore the small frown that tugged on your mouth. 

“But it’s so dark out already,” you replied. 

“Fine by me. There’ll probably be fewer cars out there on the road if I leave soon instead of waiting for the morning.” 

“Oh.” 

Robby hated the way that sounded in your mouth. You quickly looked around your house almost as if you were trying to find something that’d make him stay. For that, he made no action to actually move from his spot on in the cushions. 

You finally gave up and looked down into your glass. “You know, it’s okay to ask.” 

He knew what you meant. Throughout the night, he tried his best to not to bring up the man that all but threw your baby away while she had a perfectly good home waiting for her. The social worker had made sure to tell him that there were definitely no signs of abuse or neglect on your side, and a flood of relief and a knowing understanding had bloomed beneath his ribs. He knew you’d never put that baby girl in danger from the way you were so heartbroken about not knowing where she had been for the entire day. But a thorn of concern had buried itself into his side. 

“I didn’t want to overstep,” he replied after a moment of quiet. “But . . .” he trailed, giving you the space to fill in. 

“Me and Brandon met soon after we parted ways. Thought that he was the one for me; you knew I’ve always wanted a family.” Your arms wrapped around your middle. “We got married, had a nice few years without kids before we even began to start trying.”

In a split second, all Robby wanted to do was scoop you up into his arms 

Your pointer finger picked at your thumb. “We had some complications, had a few miscarriages, and I completely gave up.” 

This time, Robby did unfold his arms and gesture for you to scooch closer. You quickly pushed yourself out of the dip and into his chest, sighing softly when you rested against him. 

“I thought that I’d never get to be a mother until last year. I guessed that the pregnancy wouldn’t last and then the next thing I know she’s in my arms.” 

He felt the way you tensed before relaxing. “We finally had her.” You paused before adding. “And then I found out that he’d been cheating on me for months. I should’ve seen the signs when he missed pretty much all of my appointments.” 

You looked up at Robby, and he was already looking down at you as well. 

“You didn’t deserve any of that, sweetheart,” he muttered, chest rumbling in loathe and a dash of jealousy. “He’s a fucking son of a bitch for that.” 

If you were his, he would have been there for you at every moment, every scan, every fucking second by your side, his hand in yours. 

You hummed in agreement. “I’m just glad I didn’t pick the name he wanted.” 

Robby cocked his head, a smirk lacing his mouth. “Oh yeah? Was it going to be something stupid like Brandon Junior?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you giggled. “He wanted Brenda. There was no way he was going to win though; she’s my baby.” 

“Well, I think you picked the sweetest name. Shelly suits her.” 

You bit down on your lip, not knowing if you should say the next thing on your mind. But having Robby be your personal back rest, you couldn’t keep it in anymore. 

“Shelly’s just her nickname. Her full name is Michelle.” You looked up at Robby expectantly, but he just kept looking at you with that soft expression. You smiled at him, hand raising to gentle rest against his beard.  “Michael, her name’s Michelle.” 

It was almost as if all air was sucked out of his body. 

“Michelle?” he croaked. “Why-why?” 

“Because maybe I wanted to keep a piece of you, the man who believed in me and listened to all my dreams, even if I can’t have you.” 

Robby blinked slowly, lips loose from his drink. “You can have me.” 

“You’re about to go on your trip, Michael. I’m not going to keep you here, somewhere you don’t want to stay, just because I finally found you again.” You tore your eyes away from his. “I can’t be that selfish. Even I can see how much you’re hurting.”

You expected him to push you off. You expected him to slam out the door. You expected him to drive off and never turn back. 

What you didn’t expect him to do was take your hands in his and hold them and keep you against him. 

“I’ll come back,” he whispered into the small space between you two. “I’ll come back to you.” 

Your head shook. “I can’t ask that of you. I can’t—” The sentence died between your lips and Robby’s finger gently pressing against your mouth. 

“Listen to me, sweetheart. For years, I’ve been looking for a reason to stay, to live. I’ve tried to find that reason, and I had pretty much given up on finding something like that.” His eyes glossed over in blink. “But the moment you walked through the doors, the moment you held your baby, the moment you invited me to dinner, and the moment you let me hold you, I finally found my reason.” 

Words escaped your mind at his confession, and the only next logical thing to do was sit and mull over his words. However, when dealing with Robby, all logic flew out the window just as you pressed your lips against his in a desperate motion.

Robby was quick to reciprocate, his hands cradling your cheeks just as he’d cradled your daughter, who you chose to share his namesake in your darkest moments. His thumb brushed away the slight wetness growing under your lashes. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt and held strongly, and your torso twisted to press your front against his. 

You pulled back slightly, face staying within Robby’s hands. “Stay,” you breathed. “Stay.”

His nose brushed against yours as he nodded. “I’ll stay.” 

“Grab it please.” He answered to the scrub tech who informed him.

“I think it’s your niece? It says Sophia.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Okay. Put her on speaker.” He answered worriedly.

And then Sophia’s voice filled the phone, with the sound of… a siren he swore, heart in his throat.

“Uncle Brendon?”

Wobbly.

“What’s wrong? Who’s hurt?” He nearly barked.

“Me.” Came Hayley, who was apparently also on speaker. “What happened? Are you in an ambulance? Who are you with?”

“It’s just us. We are. we told them to take us to PTMC- we’re supposed to do that right?”

“Yes, honey, you are. What happened to Hayley?”

His heart hammered. Bile in his throat.

“She fell down the steps at the park and really ate shit-“ “hey!-“ “and she like, really ripped her shin open. She totally needs stitches.” Sophia informed.

“Did you call your mom?” Brendon grilled.

“Not yet…”

For fuck sake.

The weekend his sister was in Michigan for work and the girls were with him this happened.

Damn it.

“For fuck sake Sophia. Call your mom.”

“Are we in trouble?”

He could see her little wobbly lip in her voice and it gutted him. Fuck.

“No, Princess. You’re not gonna be in trouble I promise.”

He heard her sigh in relief.

“Can you call her?” She asked softly.

“Are you kidding me? I’m in surgery, Sophie.” He sighed. Swore under his breath.

“Yes, I’ll call your mom. But it’s gonna be worse for you later and you know it.”

“Thank you!”

He shook his head. “Yeah yeah. You’re welcome. Look. When you get here, you’re gonna ask for Dr Robby. And you’re gonna say your uncle, Brendon Park told you to do that, okay. And tell them if anyone but him touches Hailes I’ll kill them.”

Sophie giggled.

“Not fucking around Soph.” He insisted.

“No hacks allowed. And tell them to page plastics for the stitches. Or else.”

Sophie winced.

“I don’t wanna be mean.”

“Sophia. It’s your little sisters health. You have to be mean.”

“Fine.” Sophia wavered.

“Are you gonna come down?” Hayley worried.

Brendon’s heart cracked.

“I’m in the middle of surgery, baby. Look. I will be there as soon as I can, I promise. But I just- I can’t right now and I’m so sorry. I- look. I’m gonna see if Y/N can come down to watch you guys. I know you’ve never met her but you can trust her.”

“We know.” Sophia swore.

See, Brendon had never let a girlfriend meet his girls before.

That was, as far as he was concerned, the most serious thing he could do.

So he was really hesitant to.

No one before you had gotten that close. That far. That serious and real.

But…

The girls knew of you. They’d heard all about you.

3 months into your relationship Brendon told them he was dating someone. He never really did that. Nothing was ever that serious. He was never that serious about someone.

So they asked questions. And he answered them. They’d seen photos. They were sweet about it. He told stories. They knew you existed. They knew the broad strokes. But he hadn’t gotten the chance to formally introduce you.

And this was far from optimal. But.

Well. What else was he to do?

You heard stories too. Many.

You knew just how important Brendon’s girls were to him. They were his entire fucking world. You got that.

“I mean I was literally the one who brought Hayley home from the hospital” Brendon explained one day while telling a story, making a slight detour for context.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. Erica and Craig got divorced when she was pregnant and he was already a useless sack of shit when Sophie was born, so I was there. They’re my girls.”

You understood. They were essentially his kids. So they mattered to you, simply on account of how much they mattered to them.

He’d called you in a panic a few weeks back, maybe 2 months now really, asking if you had pads at his place, that Sophia got her first period.

Your drawer in the bathroom, you informed him. You were pretty sure it was a full pack.

Which he yelled through the door.

“Do you… need help with it?” He asked, then, nervously, you overheard.

“No they show us in health!” You heard Sophia yell back.

He breathed in relief.

“Thank fuck” he mumbled to you.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll restock if you just uh. Send me the details.”

“It’s fine” you swore.

“Is there anything else I should do?” He asked you shyly.

Cute. Cute cute 40 year old man.

“Not really. Tylenol or Motrin. Heating pad. You know.” You reminded him.

“Right. Right.” He nodded.

“She can have my good chocolates if they want.” You informed. “But those you have to restock.”

“You’re a lifesaver, baby. Thank you.” He sighed. “I gotta go.”

Is nausea normal? He texted you not long after.

You laughed.

Didn’t you go to med school?

Y/N please. Before I go to the ER just answer me.

Yes it’s normal. Unfortunately. She’s fine.

Thank you.

So is back pain, headaches, migraines, chills, soreness….

Ouch. Well. Thank you. Love u.

He turned his attention back to the girls.

“Y/N says the nausea is normal.”

Sophia barked out a laugh. “That’s what you were doing? Come on I could have told you that. Didn’t you go to med school?”

“Jesus do you two know eachother or something?” He shook his head.

So.

Yeah.

You were both familiar with the others existence.

This was just a final line that you hadn’t crossed yet.

“Page Y/N to the observation room if she’s available, please.” He sighed and asked his scrub again, bracing himself for impact.

You were there in 5 minutes, looking as gorgeous as you had that morning, looking worried through the glass.

“What’s wrong?” You asked immediately.

You were so good.

“I gotta ask you a huge favor. Hayley’s in the ER-“

“Our ER? Is she okay?”

Your concern for his niece’s mirrored his own, tugging on his chest.

“She sliced her leg open taking a fall. Sounds like she’s fine. Look I can’t get out of here. Can you-“

“Are you sure?”

You looked worried. “I know you have boundaries when it comes to them-“

“You’re different.” He swore quickly.

“You’re um- I wanted you to meet them soon anyway. This isn’t ideal but-“

Fuck, he hated having an audience for this.

But you nodded.

“Of corse I will. I’ll- I’ll keep you posted okay?”

He breathed in relief.

“Yes please. Thank you. You’re a saint, baby. Really.”

You nodded.

“I told Hayley that no one but Robby touches her, and to make sure he calls plastics. I don’t want her with a hack job scar, she’s a pretty girl she doesn’t need something to be self conscious of.”

You nodded in understanding.

“No clowns are touching my girl.” He reiterated.

You nodded.

“I’ll make sure. Does she have like allergies or anything I need to tell them-“

“Their PTMC charts are my Sistine Chappell” he informed.

You nodded.

“Okay. Uh, well. I’ll see you later right?”

You found your way to the ED circulation desk, to looks of surprise.

“If it isn’t Miss Y/N. Been a while. What can I do you for?” Dana grinned.

“I’m here on personal business I’m afraid.” You informed. She looked worries

“What’s the matter kiddo?”

“I’m here to check on my boyfriend’s nieces. It’s Hayley Park?”

You watched Princess’ eyes sparkle at the desk behind Dana.

There goes everything.

“Park huh. Jesus Christ kiddo good for you. C’mon I’ll bring you by.”

You stood outside a room, one of the few with a real door, a note on it stating who the patient was and who her uncle was, like a warning. Shark infested waters.

You understood the reputation Brendon had, but he’d always been so sweet to you. You presumed his nieces were equally oblivious to that reputation.

You knocked twice before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m-“

“You’re Y/N” Hayley confirmed instantly, looking you up and down.

“Yeah. I don’t know if your uncle told you, he can’t get out of surgery right now so he wanted me to come stay with you guys. How are you feeling?”

You sat on the family chair in the corner.

Terrified of making a bad impression.

She shrugged.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bad cut.”

You nodded.

“Has a doctor seen you yet?”

She nodded.

“But only for like. A second. He said he’d be back.”

“Dr Robby, right?” You confirmed.

Sophia nodded.

“Okay. Your uncle was very incessant on that. It’s just because he loves you” you insisted.

Despite your anxieties, the girls were so sweet. You got on so easily with them. Conversation flowed naturally. Some good natured jokes at Bren’s expense, some questions about music they liked and tv shows, and you were off to the races. The were so much like Brendon it almost hurt. You weren’t sure how similar Brendon and his sister looked, but the girls definitely took after the Park side of the family.

When Brendon finally got down to the pitt, he was exhausted and frankly, terrified.

He was worried. Really worried.

Not just about Hayley’s shin, but about you three meeting. He wasn’t there to referee if things went badly. wasn’t there to observe or monitor. He didn’t know how he’d cope with it if things went bad. He could never chose a woman over his nieces. And god, he really, really hoped he wouldn’t have to make that choice today.

So he’s surprised with the scene that greets him in Hayley’s room.

All three of you are in Hayley’s bed, whose leg appears stitched up neatly and cleaned well.

And your hands are in Hayley’s hair as Sophia explains the fucking Olivia situation to you- which Brendon has now heard 40 times, but is obviously new to you. And you’re listening with rapt attention, while you braid his fucking niece’s hair.

His heart is going to burst out of his chest.

“Hey” he breathed.

Eyes turned to him.

A smile broke out on your face.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi honey.”

He came over, greeting each of you with a kiss on the head which warmed your chest in a funny fuzzy way. Very domestic. It was almost like you belonged here.

“How was surgery?”

He made a dismissive gesture.

“Fine. But I’ve got bigger fish to fry. How are you feeling princess?” He worried, looking Hayley’s leg over.

“Fine.” She promised.

Brendon let himself into the charting station carelessly, looking over who’d seen her.

He grunted in approval.

“Okay. I like Walenski. He’s good.”

You couldn’t disagree.

“He said you’d met before. Told us some stories.” You winked.

“All bad I hope.” Brendon teased.

“Are they ever good?” You replied in jest.

He grinned.

“You two have no clue how much of an asshole I can be.” Brendon smiled. He joined the three of you on the edge of the bed, somehow fitting.

“They’ve both been very brave. You should be proud of them.” You insisted.

“Oh, I always am. Always. Was Soph mean like I told her to be?”

“No” Hayley giggled.

“We’ll get her there” Brendon smiled.

“You did good today. I am proud of you. Very brave.” He said softly to Sophia, squeezing her hand.

“Thanks.” She whispered.

“They ready to discharge?” Brendon asked you.

You shrugged. “No clue.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll go bust some heads.” He grunted, standing up to go back towards the hub.

You believed that he definitely would.

You’d driven with Brendon to work today, so the four of you piled back into his car after Hayley was discharged.

“We’re hungry” Hayley announced.

“We have food at home” Brendon scoffed.

The backseat groaned loudly.

Brendon groaned back. “Don’t give me that!”

“I bet you don’t subject Y/N to your boring healthy food” Hayley snarked.

No. Y/N, much like the 4 other women in Brendon’s life, has his fucking balls in a vice grip. Y/N gets whatever she wants. Y/N unlike his mother, sister, and nieces, though, lacks the Park name. Which suddenly strikes him as a problem.

“You’re such a spoiled little brat.” Brendon snapped, with no malaise taken from his harsh tone by two little girls who saw the shark as their harmless uncle. “Whose fault is that?” For fuck same. “What do you want-“

Brendon stopped looking at you.

“Is that okay? You were up early I don’t want to-“

“I’m okay with dinner.” You insisted, cheeks warm.

He nodded.

“Okay. So? What’s your price?”

Dinner was… fine. It was weird to see Brendon Park in a junk food filed, crap from a freezer cheap chain restaurant, but his girls wanted, so they got. Your standards weren’t as high as Brendon’s. Clearly, looking at the two do you that was obvious. You were more than happy to partake in boneless wings and mozzarella sticks too. Things flowed so easy with the three of you. Comfortable, like you’d known them their whole lives. You were easy and comfortable, laughing about some sudden inside joke made at the hospital. He could weep. He could just watch the scene for hours.

You kept catching Brendon’s eyes on you, this look in them that you couldn’t quite name. Something deeper than love. Something more he was figuring out. It made something deep in you shine, too.

“Need anything anywhere before I drop you off?” Brendon checked with you, in the car as he reversed out of the spot.

Becuase he had the girls at his place, you’d been spending the longest time apart that you had since you met. The longest time out of each others beds.

Which. Sucked. But was appropriate.

“You’re not coming home with us?”

Sophia sounded devastated.

You and Brendon froze.

“Uh-“

You froze too.

“I… do have work clothes at your place” you admitted.

Brendon pinkened. That was different.

“If… you girls want that” Brendon asked carefully.

They confirmed. Loudly and quickly as tweens do.

“Okay” you agreed.

“Yeah.”

And so you went back to Brendon’s.

You’d spent so much time at Brendon’s the last few months. But the place was so different with them here. Two gigantic Stanley’s on the kitchen island accompanied your water bottles now. Things were louder. School bags by the door, homework still on the coffee table, sneakers by the door untied and messily abandoned.

Things were lively. It wasn’t like his house lacked life when you were in it, but this was different. The energy of children.

You’d say in the living room watching the horrible reality show the girls had apparently suckered Brendon into the last few days for a while, leaned against his chest, pretty out of it as you enjoyed the feeling of his hands in your back, and his heartbeat under your ear.

“You sleepy, baby?” He checked. You confirmed. “Then go to bed.” He insisted. “I’ll be up in a few. Really. Go.” He insisted.

It made you feel a bit guilty. Leaving the party. “These two gotta get to bed soon to anyway, school in the morning. It’s fine. Go.” He insisted, and you finally got up on wobbly knees.

“I’ll wait up.” You instead to Brendon who would rather you didn’t. He just rolled his eyes. “Night girls, it was nice to meet you.” You told them genuinely, to a harmony of “goodnight y/n” and “it was nice to meet you too.”

Brendon’s heart leaped out of his chest when his bedroom door clicked closed and Hailey informed him “we like y/n”.

A relief he didn’t know he needed.

When Brendon slid into bed behind you, you fit against his body like a glove like always. You fit perfect. In his hands and in his life. His arm settled over your waist in a cozy snug hold, his lips to your cheek.

“Did I do okay today?” You croaked.

Still awake apparnelty.

He kissed your cheek again. “You did perfect. The girls fucking adore you.” He informed you. “They love you. And you took care of them and kept them safe for me today. Thank you. I love you so much, baby.” He whispered.

Brendon was coming out of the OR when he heard it.

A couple of residents- well, an intern and an annoying ms3, talking.

He just came out of surgery. Hadn’t even gotten a chance to piss yet, and it came from down the hall in front of him.

“I just don’t know how you do that” one said. He laughed. “I couldn’t even imaging fucking that blackout drunk.”

“Fuck, me neither.” Came the other. “Like, a butter face you can just put a fucking bag over it, hit it from the back. Face on her is fine I guess but the body-“ “it’s like a fucking beluga whale.”

The burst into laughter. “Maybe a fucking glory hole. Fat chicks always have good lips. They say they try harder, right?” “Ugh, but if I knew it was that fucking heifer on the other side? Bleh.”

Fuck were these kids disgusting.

Young guys were always piggish, sure, he’d been in enough locker rooms and frat houses to know. But this? This was grotesque. This is a fucking hospital. These were supposed to be medical professionals. And whoever they were talking about? That poor girl was someone’s daughter. Someone’s sister maybe. Fuck. She was someone okay? Just because you find someone unattractive doesn’t mean it’s any god damn reason to act like that.

“She’s bitching about dating apps? Please. All a bitch like that is good for it a fast fuck when the bars closing and you’re desperate. If she thinks she’s gonna find Prince Charming with a gut like that-“

“Hey!” He called.

They froze.

“Doc-“

“That’s enough. Shut the fuck up.”

Brendon rolled his eyes. “You realize we’re in a public place right? There’s patients around here- families. Your superiors. Watch your fucking mouth. I never want to hear shit like that again.” He snapped.

They stuttered out apologies, but he didn’t care, pushing past them to the utility stairs. He just needed to get upstairs to his office and relax for a couple minutes. Have a little time to himself before he had that zoom consultation with some U Penn lacrosse player who-

Oh.

Then he saw you.

He pushed past the stairwell doors and there you were, tears rushing down your cheeks, the knuckles of two beautiful manicured nails in your teeth teeth to muffle your tears. Your rosy pink iPad- not hospital issue, clearly your own- for charting and noting clutched in your arms with your clipboard and some pamphlets on rehabs with it.

You must have been on your way to see a patient- one of his patients. And you always took such good care of his patients. You’d once beamed, and elbowed him, calling you the dream team to a patient. “Dr Park is gonna fix you up, and I’m gonna make sure your recovery goes smoothly” you explained. And he chuckled. Sure, why not. The dream team. And he agreed. “Y/N is fantastic, she’s gonna come up with a great plan for you. No one I trust more with my patients recovery plans” he admitted, which you beamed to, again.

The first time you called him that was ages ago, to him atleast. He was used to it now. You were his lighthouse most days. A shining comfort in the chaos.

His heart twisted as he wondered what had happened to his sunshiney lovely social worker.

His stomach sunk, realizing exactly what had happened.

Rage creeping up his spine, he knew, those stupid fucking boys were talking about you.

“Hey, hey sweetheart. What the matter? You okay? Let’s get this hand out of your teeth before you hurt yourself.”

He knows he had a cliche level of soft spot towards you, but he always has. There was just something about the ball of bubblegum that rolled onto his floor one day that he couldn’t be cruel to. There was always something endearing about you, something that brought out a version of him he liked very much. A version of him that could be chivalrous and masculine in a way that wasn’t mean and tough. He could hold doors open and save you food speak to you softly, and use his manners. You just had an effect on him that he always liked.

Clearly you somehow didn’t have that effect on anyone.

“Sorry- I just need a second-“ you sniffled.

“Hey, no offense, you need more than a second and that’s okay.” He eased.

“Can you sit down for a second with me?” He offered. You nodded wetly with an unattractive sniffle.

You sat on the concrete stairs next to him, and let him take your things out of your hands to rest behind you both, and your saliva covered hand in his.

Clearly he wasn’t put off by that, uncaring as he looked you over for injury or damage. “I don’t care about a little spit. I just spent the last four hours up to my elbows in blood” he reminded you. So your apologies stoped. “Don’t care about germs. Care about you being okay. We’re bitting down pretty hard there.” He insisted,

“I’d ask what happened again, but I’m pretty sure I already heard it in the hall, huh?” He admitted.

The tears poured out again.

“You did? Oh my god, this is so humiliating.” You cried.

“Hey-“ he insisted firmly. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You didn’t do a damn thing. Those two? They’re in for an HR investigation now. They were fucking disgusting. They were mean, and sick, and gross. That’s not on you.” He insisted.

You swallowed.

“I mean. They were assholes. but. What hurts is that they’re right. You explained sadly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” Brendon dismissed.

“They were wrong. They were disgusting and wrong. Those are the kinds of kids that pick a girl based on what they think will get them the most street cred with their buddies. And that’s no way to pick your woman. These are the kind of limp dick dipshits who call chicks like, fuckin’, Sabrina carpenter fat, okay? It’s not you, they just let 2000s porn fry their fucking brains.” Brendon insisted in a huff. Form and angry.

You giggled.

“You’re a Sabrina carpenter fan?”

You knocked your shoulder into his, momentarily distracted from your loathing.

He rolled his eyes. And… maybe blushed. “That’s what you’re talking away from this? Christ. I’m not, okay. Ive got tween nieces. I went to the short and sweet tour under extreme duress.”

“Sureeee” you teased.

“You’re laughing but you’ve got no clue how scary those kids are.”

“Must take after their uncle then” you teased.

“Anything to make my girls smile.” He admitted, smiling gently.

You could see in the soft look in his eyes that he meant it.

“Saw her here?” You asked. “In Pittsburgh. Or did you guys go to Philly or something.”

Brendon was surprised by the question.

“Oh. Yeah. At PPG.” “I ask cus I was there too” you explained. “Night one.” He smiled. He was glad at the natural change of topic. He hated to se you so sad. Hated to see you cry. Hated to see losers so low hurt you. Anything that would make you smile would go as far as he was concerned. “Us too. You dress up? They dressed up. Almost gave me a fuckin’ heart attack with those outfits. I thought I was gonna have to knock some perv out by the end of the night.”

He clicked open his phone, showing you his lcokscreen. Him and two girls, middle school aged probably, in glittery pastel outfits with little hearts and ruffles. One was in a dark denim jacket 8 sizes too big. It must be Brendon’s. She must have gotten cold. Oh. Of corse they’d be his wallpaper. He’s in the middle, infront of one of those photo op cardboard set ups. He’s got a grin on his face like he won the lottery, one arm around each girl.

“Oh my god. They’re to cute.”

He beamed. “Right? They’re the best.” He swore.

You clicked open your phone, riffling through your Instagram.

“I got dressed up too.”

You open your phone, pastel glittery case in hand, showing Brendon a photo from the same night last fall. You’re with a couple other girls, some looking vaguely familiar from around PTMC but he couldn’t care less about Eileen Shamsi’s kid or a sassy perfusionist from cardiology.

Brendon’s pupils blew up triple their size.

Your outfit was very, very different.

Knee high go go boots in bedazzled pink, a tiny little pink skirt and a pink bustier corset, hair in big, bouncy blowout curls, heavy makeup like a fucking starlet.

You were mind blowing. Stunning.

He but his cheek trying desperately to keep his responses in check.

“You looked lovely.” He settled on. “You’ve got the boots and everything.”

You smiled to yourself. “It was fun. I wasn’t gonna dress up but Tina really pushed it and I’m glad I listened to her.”

“Me too” he slipped. Oops. “You really look amazing here. You look great every day but this is something else.” He blabbered before he finally stopped himself. Thank god.

“I thought I’d be like. The only fat girl dressed up-“

“I don’t like that word.” Brendon shook his head.

You shrunk. “There’s nothing wrong with your body. You don’t gotta call it anything. It’s normal. It’s healthy. Its good to you.”

You swallowed, choosing to ignore Brendon’s statement.

“But i wasn’t. Quite a few of us there, and no one said anything mean so that was cool.”

You spoke about basic human decency like it was a luxury. Brendon hates that.

“I’m glad you dressed up. No point leaving yourself out. You’re the standout of your little group, no offense. You looked amazing, really.” He insisted.

He ignored how much he wanted that hair and makeup on his pillows, nothing but those boots on you. Perv.

That stream of thought died down naturally, shifting back to the previous topic.

“I- it’s not like they said anything I didn’t know, you know? I always knew I was too fat to date but-“

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

You shrunk at Brendon’s harsh tone.

“Um. Too fat too date?”

He made a dismissive, angry noise.

“Who the hell convinced you of something like that?”

Who didn’t?

“I-um. Alot of people?”

Many people. Your old friends who said ‘they couldn’t imagine you in a relationship’. Older ladies in your family who suggested you might finally find a husband if you tried working out more. So many men who made comments like those two doctors. Girls in highschool who made pig noises at you in the cafeteria, or gaged when you walked past.

“Fuck that” he dismissed.

“There’s no such thing” he swore, sure and sharp.

You didn’t believe him, admittedly.

“Brendon. Come on.”

“No. There isn’t. Really. No such thing. No one is too skinny. No one is too short. No one is too tall. Too dark too light. It didn’t exist. None of it. Eveyone has their own cup of tea-“

“I’m not most people’s cup to tea. I’m a little bit too much tea.” You tried to explain.

He shook his head.

“No such thing as too much of a good thing. Too much woman. Come on.”

He shook his head chuckling. “You. Who would complain about too much you? You’re the best god damn thing on this floor, and those clowns want to shrink you? They want less of you? Fuck that.”

Heat bloomed in your face at Brendon’s flattery.

His words had gotten away from them.

“You’re stunning. You’re just fucking stunning, okay? Not for anything, not a but. You just are. Your- this is probably fucking offensive, fuck it. Your weight suits you. Your body is fucking lovely, okay, you’d look weird any smaller to me. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing to change. You’re not not good enough. You’re good enough. Fuck them. You don’t want the attention of losers like that.” He rambled.

Tears welled in the eyes from the sheer kindness of it all but it still-

He didn’t get it.

You said as much.

“Wha don’t I get?”

You barked a laugh. “You’re a hot doctor. You’re in good shape and have nice hair, and a pretty smile. You love your nieces. You’re like. The Wikipedia photo of an eligible bachelor. I’m just a fat-“

A pointed glare

“Social worker”

Brendon chewed on his cheek trying to decide how to say this.

“You’re a fucking smoke show. You’re a catch..”

Well. There goes nothing.

“I’m 40 and single, i’m no fucking catch. I work dogshit hours, I’m bad with words, I’m blunt to a fault. I’m a giant fucking dick. Only thing I really bring to the fucking table is my-“

He coughed. “Sorry.”

What the fuck is he fucking serious?

“Y/N. You sell yourself short. Despite what a couple dumbasses say you’re a stunning woman, with a respectable job. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Genuinely. I can’t wrap my head around how the fuck you’re single in the first place.”

“It’s not like you would date me. Just as like an example. I’m no one’s type-“

Brendon chuckled.

“You fucking kidding me? Of corse I would.”

You froze.

“Huh?”

Then swallowed.

“That’s not funny, Brendon.” You whisperer. It was cruel.

“Y/N” he swore solemnly. “I’m not kidding. I mean that. Come on. How- you know how I feel about you.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” You jumped.

“You serious? You think I’m this nice to everyone?”

“Well… no, but-“

His face was more amused now.

“Y/N. I’m an asshole. I figured you knew and were avoiding it-“

“No, Brendon. I didn’t fucking know.”

It was kind of a mindfuck.

“So you thought I was rejecting you?”

He rubbed his neck, cringing.

“Yeah. I did.”

You went deer in headlights esque.

“If I knew i-“

“If you knew you’d what?”

“I’d um. Id-“

He chuckled.

“You don’t even know? Cute.”

Did he just call you-

“You’re so fucking cute.”

He shook his head.

Oh.

“You busy after work?”

“Why?”

“Jesus Christ. You’ve got a thick skull huh. I’m taking you out. After work. That okay?”

Oh.

Oh.

Jack knew he shouldn't have left you. He'd had a feeling. The looming dread that had been creeping up on him the past couple of weeks. 

You'd been feeling out of it for a while now. A lethargic and nauseating achiness you couldn't quite shake, no matter how much tylenol or herbal teas you’d tried. 

You had played it off as nothing. Just a headache that came and went. An upset stomach due to the day old chinese food you’d eaten. 

“It's fine, Jack. I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m okay. I’m here. You don't have to worry.”

But Jack worried. 

He was always worrying. 

He knew that little things sometimes added up to a bigger, meaner somethings. That if you missed the signs, you might catch it too late. 

What exactly? Jack wasn't sure. He didn’t particularly want to find out.

But he sure as hell wasn't gonna let you blow it off now. 

His heart pounds as the ambulance finally pulls into the bay, the emergency lights blaring an ugly red and orange. Jack bary registers the EMT saying hello to him, his eyes focused on your splayed out form, laying on the gurney. 

“Hey baby,” he says, voice cracking slightly. 

“Jack,” you look up at him blearily, your eyes hazy, a bandage already taped to your forehead. Jack is quick to come by your side as the EMT lowers the gurney, his hand running over the back of your hair.

“One of the bystanders said she hit her head going down. It's not too bad. Just needs some cleaning. Same for her legs,” the EMT says to Jack as she watches him carefully lift the bandage. 

Jack lets out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and leading your gurney back into the Pitt. 

“What the hell Jack. You just ran off-” Robby calls out, watching Jack come back in. He stops once he sees you, your scraped up knees and bandaged head, the confused expression on your face. “What happened?” 

“She fainted. We’ll need to start her on an iv, get her fluids and run a couple of blood tests. Do you still feel dizzy?”

“I don’t… Jack, what’s going on?” You look up at Jack, confused, panic written across your face. Jack looks back at the EMT who shakes her head.

“She was having trouble remembering the fall. Only remembers her headache and feeling sick.” 

Jack remembers how you had looked this morning. The purple bruises around your eyes and the wince you'd tried to hide when he said goodbye. 

“I don't have to go in today. Shen can cover if Robby really needs him to.”

“Go Jack. They need you more than me.”

He should have known better. 

Robby comes beside the railing of the gurney, helping to pull it into a trauma room. You look around, your chest beginning to rise and fall quicker as your eyes begin to clear of the confused fog.

“What’s going on?” 

“Jack, stay with your wife.”

“I am with her,” he throws back at Robby, turning to grab the bag of fluids Princess was moving to hand him.

“No. Stay with her as Jack. Not Dr. Abbot,” Robby tosses back, gesturing to your wide and fearful eyes. Jack swallows thickly, torn. 

Especially when you groan, turning towards Robby and vomiting off the side of the gurney railing. 

Jack’s heart hurts, pounding heavily against his sternum. You were here. The one place he hated seeing you.

Jack knows he can help take care of you right now. Bandage you up and order labs. He can solve the mystery behind why you were suddenly so ill. Why you haven’t been feeling well lately. 

He can handle that. Dr. Jack Abbot, night attending and army vet, can handle bad news.

But just Jack. Mr. Jack Abbot, loving husband and worried widower, cannot. 

He can’t take another bad diagnosis.

Jack looks up at Robby who’s helping Princess clean up the vomit, and then back at you. And he makes a decision.

“Hey,” Jack says, pushing down the railing on his side of your gurney and sitting on the edge. “Hey, honey-” He takes your head in his hands, taking the damp cloth Robby hands him and helping to clean your face. 

Jack sits with you, his scrub top abandoned, his hand clasped tightly over yours. He watches as the color slowly comes back into your face, helps you take a sip of juice when your hand trembles too much to hold the cup. He stays silent for it all, Robby cleaning and bandaging your scrapes, Perlah coming in to draw your blood, the hospital gown Princess helps you into. He watches it all with a wariness. An awful churning in his gut.

A fear gnawing away at him. 

“Jack,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. He hums, glancing up at you from where he was sitting beside your gurney. “It’s going to be alright.” 

“I know,” he whispers back. You hadn’t said much to each other. Mostly hushed whispers and clinging to each other's hand. Like raising your voices was too much for the already overstimulating hospital room.

Jack’s knee is bouncing up and down anxiously. He couldn’t help it, his mind turning over the many diagnoses, the myriad of things that could be wrong with you. You gently wrangle your hand out of his iron grip, reaching over to rest it on his jostling knee. Jack stills at the feeling of your warm palm over the fabric of his scrub pants, swallowing. You smile.

“Whatever it is… we’ll be okay.” 

"I know," Jack repeats again. But it's hard to really believe it.

He's been here once before. A hospital room just like this. The woman he loves loved sitting by his side. Slowly wasting away. And he didn’t even know it. 

He sees the symptoms, too familiar and painful. The exhaustion and fatigue that wore you down. The migraines and brain fog, lethargicness and nausea that plagued you. He sees it and he knows. Whatever labs Robby is currently looking at holds a future he’s not sure he’s ready for. 

You sigh, your hand moving upwards to run through his salt and pepper curls. They had already been mussed and messed up from his own hand raking through them. Jack sighs at the feeling, closing his eyes and leaning his head against your side. You hum, holding him close.

“I didn’t even get to do any shopping. I just… passed out in the parking lot.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Jack mumbles into your gown. “I’ll order some groceries for delivery later.”

“I really wanted to get that new cream cheese to try. The one with the jalapenos.” You sigh. “Gosh, I wish they could just inject that into my iv. Maybe I’d perk up faster.”

Jack can’t help but crack a smile. You hum happily, still petting his hair. 

“There he is.” Jack looks up at you, his mouth open to say something. To apologize for worrying. For being so scared.

But he doesn’t get a chance.

The door to your room opens, Robby’s familiar silhouette shadowing behind the curtain.

“Jack?”

Jack clears his throat. “Yeah?” 

Robby peeks his head through the fabric. 

“I’ve got the test results back.” He comes in and sits down on the stool by the foot of your bed with a grunt. You give Jack a nervous look, your hand finding his again. He takes it, squeezing gently. Grounding. Robby clears his throat. 

“Well, your blood panels came back fine. No signs of infection or disease.”

“So…what is it? What’s wrong with her?” Jack asks, swallowing thickly. Robby looks down at the lab work in his hands, peering over the frames of his glasses at the two of you.

“Nothing.” 

The word hits harder than Jack could have expected. Of all the things he had anticipated-

You frown, looking confused.

“Nothing,” you repeat, the question no louder than a breath of air. Robby smiles and nods.

“Well, nothing that won’t go away in nine months. Congratulations kids. You're gonna have a baby." 

Both of you go very still. Your mouth falls open, Jack’s eyes practically bug out of his head. Robby sits there smugly, folding the lab results over.

“A…” Jack starts, trailing off as he leans forward. Surely he’d heard Robby wrong.

“I- a baby?” You ask, dumbstruck. 

“Hmm.” Robby nods. “From what I can tell you’re roughly six weeks along. Of course, you’d need an ultrasound and larger blood panel to be able to tell more accurately.” 

“Pregnant,” Jack breathes. His eyes dart around the room, finally meeting Robby’s. “But how?”

Robby raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a simple process. I don’t think I have to explain the exact mechanics on conceiving to you Jack-”

"No, I know- I mean how... I can't even...

"We aren't exactly prime candidates for conceiving," you finish for Jack.

He can feel your fingers wrap tighter around his hand, your shoulder brushing against his.

Robby gives you a look, his features softening. “I know. I know, I don’t know why. It happens. Sometimes fertility problems resolve themselves. No on can pinpoint why exactly. Could be hormonal changes, medication changes, reduced stress-”

You and Jack finally glance over at each other. He looks at you, eyes raking over your face, the glimmer of hope you were trying to hide. And it hits him.

The sabbatical, he thinks. The long overdue vacation he'd finally gotten around to taking. 

Three months without either of you worrying about work or patients. Three months of just the two of you; long walks in the park, lazy mornings spent in bed. Decadent yet nutritious dinners and way too many trips to the ice cream shop down the street. 

Leaving behind the worries of your every day. 

The sabbatical he’d finally come back from not even a few weeks ago. Just before you had begun to get sick-

You're the first to smile. A small curve upwards, more nervous than anything. 

"I'm pregnant." 

Jack breathes heavily in his chair. 

“You are,” Robby smiles. You take a shaky breath, unsure of what to say. “There’s quite a few things we’ll have to go over. I’m sure Jack knows this speech like the back of his hand, but it’s still customary…”

Jack is half listening as Robby goes on about the usual procedure. The prenatal vitamins you’ll need, the appointments you’ll have to set up. The safety precautions and symptoms and internal changes. The risks considering Jack was older and you weren’t very young yourself.

Jack is so far zoned out he doesn’t even realize you’re calling his name.

“Jack. Honey," you shake his shoulder, frowning. “Are you okay?” 

Jack opens his mouth, looking between you and Robby. He glances once at your stomach. Hidden behind the hospital gown. Looking exactly like it had yesterday. 

But it was different. There wasn’t some disease growing inside you. Some foreign thing making you sick and slowly sucking the life out of you.

There was a baby growing there. You were sick because you were making another life. 

Jack is hit by the realization that for the next nine months, you were going to be going through all kinds of changes. All kinds of hurdles and milestones. 

A baby.

Jack suddenly feels sick.

“I have to go,” he blurts, shaking your hand off of his shoulder and beelining out of the hospital room.

“Jack!” You call out, your voice raising with surprise. 

“I just need some air!”

Jack doesn’t turn back. He can’t. He can’t let you see the utter terror written on his face. 

He marches down the hall, ignoring the looks the nurses give him, the confusion Trinity and Mel share as he storms out down the crowded hallway and to the stairwell.

------------------------------------------------------

You find Jack outside. Not on the roof like you’d panicked he’d be. 

Robby had come back, shaking his head, trying to calm your racing heart.

No. After finally convincing Robby to let you help him look, You find Jack sitting on one of the benches in the park across the way from PTMC. He’s sitting there, elbows braced against his knees, staring off into the distance.

You approach him carefully, blades of grass crunching beneath the slip on clogs the hospital provided. Your clothes feel cold against you, comforting and familiar after the scratchy hospital gown. You glance back at Robby who stands at the edge of the park. He nods, encouraging you to keep going. 

As you get closer, you realize Jack’s not just staring off at nothing. You catch sight of his eyes, focused and glistening beneath the late afternoon light. You follow his sight line, watching a little family on the other side of the park. A broad shouldered man tossing a foam ball to a toddler girl, her mother laughing as her girl toddles about. 

You watch Jack for a moment, staying out of his sight line. You don't have to try very hard to guess what he's thinking about. The sheer amount of worry and confusion he's feeling. 

You felt it yourself. The whiplash of expecting the worst outcome only to learn you were carrying something wonderful. There was still the nervousness of what the future would look like. 

The schedules that would need rearranging, the house child proofed, your office room cleared out in space for another little person. Doctors appointments and ultrasound photos taped to the fridge, onesies and books and diapers tucked away in a closet. 

In spite of the excitement you felt, the confused yet exhilarating feeling of knowing you were going to be a mother, you were scared. 

There was a whole person you'd have to take care of. You'd have to grow and birth. You weren't exactly a spry chicken. Neither was Jack. And there were more risks and complications that came with that.

On top of all the things that came with pregnancy. 

You might not be dying from some malady. But pregnancy was no small thing either. 

You finally take a step forward, placing your hand gently on Jack’s shoulder. He snaps out of his stupor, back straightening, a panic written in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be up-”

“I’m okay.” He frowns. You point to the space beside him on the bench. “Can I sit?” 

Jack nods, scooting over a bit. You sit. Jack wipes his eyes with the palm of his hand; being closer now, you can see they’re red rimmed and glassy. He doesn’t look at you. Not at first.

But he’s the first to open his mouth again.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run out if there. That was a dick move."

You swallow against the thick lump in your throat, trying to keep the well of anger rising at bay. It wasn’t hard to. The fear and anxiety laid bare in Jack’s voice. The thoughts he tried so hard to hide from you unveiled. 

You nod. “Yeah. It kinda was." 

He takes a breath, reaching out to hold your hand. You take it, his thumb brushing along the ridge of your knuckles.

"I just... this whole time I was worried I was going to lose you. I kept thinking about all the ways I’d have to watch you die. All the treatments or surgeries…” he chuckles dryly. “I was so worried about you. And now all I’m thinking about is how we’re going to have a kid walking down the aisle in a cap and gown when I’m 70.” 

You sigh, the breeze a gentle comfort as it blows against your cheeks.

“That's all you’re thinking about? College already?” You give his hand a small, loving squeeze. Teasing. A clearing amidst the stormy turmoil you both had been worrying over.

“Well,” he shrugs slowly. “You know, between wondering if the pregnancy will hold. Or birth. Or what elementary school drop offs will look like and dinners and the house and my crazy schedule-”

“I know. I know, it’s a lot.”

Jack nods. “It is… and I’m scared.”

You look at him. Your heart aches with the pure sincerity written on his face. Jack was never one to hide his feelings. But he rarely gave them away easily. Not like this.

Truth written in the glassy mist of his eyes, the worry carried in the tightness of his hand around yours.

“I know,” you nod. “I know it’s not going to be easy. Robby explained the risks.” 

The long list of complications and genetic disorders and risky side effects run through your mind. You hadn’t known just how fragile pregnancy became the older you got. It was just never something that had crossed your mind. To think or worry about. But now…

You continue.

“I know this wasn’t what we had planned, Jack. Us. Having kids… and I know you may not want- may not think we can do this. But I don’t think this is such a bad thing.”

Jack’s eyes widen, his frown deepening.

“What, woah. No I don’t want you thinking that. I don’t- I don’t think that.” 

“Really?” You take a deep breath, hopeful. Jack finally smiles. A small and gentle quirk of his mouth.

“Really. And I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I just… I didn’t think that I could have one.” 

“A baby?” You clarify. He nods.

“I told you about what happened in the army. With my leg and, well, everything else. And you told me having kids wasn’t exactly going to be easy for you.” It’s your turn to nod.

Between Jack’s injury and age, your genetics and seemingly lackluster fertility, a baby had just never been a part of your plan. And you were fine with it. Life was crazy enough as it was.

“I know. But here we are.”

Jack nods, looking out into the park again. He’s watching the small family again, eyes glued to the man as he hoists his giggling daughter into his arms.

“Here we are,” he mumbles. 

“We don’t have to figure everything out right now Jack. There’s still time.” 

“Seven months and two weeks,” he huffs. You chuckle.

“Right. Plenty of time.”

------------------------------------------------------

Robby makes Jack leave the hospital early with you. 

Although Jack would use the term ‘make’ loosely, considering he had already decided he wasn’t staying the moment he saw you in the ambulance’s hull. You’re cleared to leave not long after Robby drags the both of you back into the ED, making sure to stop by the pharmacy to pick up your new prescriptions. 

The prenatal vitamins and nausea medication sit among Jack’s own clutter of meds on the kitchen counter. Jack told you not to worry about groceries or the car still at the store. He’d take care of all of it in the morning.

For now, he just wanted to clean away the sterile smell of the hospital lingering on both of your clothes and get to bed.

He’s grateful, for once, that you're exhausted enough to fall asleep the minute your head hits the pillow. You’re breathing softly beneath the sheets before Jack can even pull his prosthetic off, your hand lain out on his side, like you still wanted him to hold it unconsciously. 

But sleep doesn’t come for him. Jack lays awake for a long while. 

The moonlight casts wispy shadows along the wall and he watches them, thinking. He plays with his wedding ring, twirling it between his fingers with mesmerizing ease. 

Not the ring you'd slipped onto his left hand years ago, the dark amber band that still glistens on his ring finger. Jack plays with the wedding ring he wore a long time ago, still a young man figuring things out. From his first marriage. His first wife.

It wasn't often he pulled the ring out. Sometimes it hurt too much to even look at it; to think about and remember her. Jack fiddles with the ring now, holding it against his lips as if he could whisper all his worries into it.

The worries which still rested in the side of his ribs, changed but there all the same. Jack can’t help but think of all the things he never got to do with her. The future they’d planned cut short by an illness he couldn’t cure. Maybe it’s why he felt so scared now. 

This unplanned thing laid out before him. Far out of his control.

Jack tosses and turns, his mind reeling with memories and thoughts about the future. He quietly gets up, setting the ring on his nightstand and fitting his prosthetic back on. He slips out of your bedroom, making sure you were still settled before wandering down the hall.

He’d always wanted to be a father. That wasn’t the problem. Hearing that you were pregnant had resurfaced those feelings like they’d never been buried. The idea of having a mini him, with matching curls and crooked smile. Or a mini you, with your bright eyes and pretty nose.

The problem was that desire had been locked away for a very long time. After he got injured in the army. After he became a widow. Even after he met you. Jack had begun to accept that being someone’s parent was just not in the cards he’d been dealt. But now…

Jack stands in the living room, staring around the dark room. He moves quietly, picking up a random glass and setting it in the kitchen, moving the tossed couch pillows back into their designated places. He can’t sit still when he tries. The air suffocating inside in spite of the cooling system blowing gently.

Jack ends up sitting outside on the back porch, his head in his hands. 

What would she have thought? After all this time. 

A baby. 

Jack’s not even sure he should begin to want this. To let himself hope. There was so much uncertainty with a later in life pregnancy, of an older parent conceiving a child. The constant what ifs and complications. So much to worry about.

Jack sighs, running a hand through his mussed curls as he realizes how tired he is. Of feeling on edge. Of never feeling like he could settle. The worry of something bad happening again. Of being all alone-

A noise sounds from the bushes running along the fence.

Leaves rustle softly, twigs crunching beneath something weighty. Jack looks up, brows furrowing. He squints, standing and flipping on the porch light to illuminate the dark backyard. The rustling sounds again, and Jack inches closer.

He pauses. And then he lets out a disbelieving laugh, instantly quieting himself.

The rabbit which had ducked back into the foliage at the sound of his voice peeks it’s head out again in the new silence. Her nose twitching, beady black eyes staring straight into Jack. He lets out a breath, in awe of the rare sight. He knew there were plenty of rabbits that lived around the neighborhood. He often saw where they burrowed through your garden or ate certain plants. But actually seeing one was rarer.

Of all the nights…

He goes still when the rabbit moves. Inching slowly out of the bush. She turns back, snuffling softly and moving forward again. A baby in tow.

Now, Jack was not a very superstitious man. At least, not by nature. He laughed when Ellis chastised him for saying the “q” word in the ED, rolled his eyes when Joy and Nazely talked about karma.

But if life had taught Jack anything, it was to never ignore the signs. 

He watches the pair of rabbits hop through the backyard, eyes following their path until they squeeze through the cracked boards of the fence, disappearing into the night. Jack lets out a slow and much needed exhale, the cool air of the night finally feeling fresh.

New.

Second chances that don't always happen every day.

Baby rabbit. 

Baby Abbot.

He liked the sound of that. And maybe, this time, there wouldn’t be so much to worry about. Not with you by his side. 

------------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

"Jaack!" You call out from the kicthen, where you're putting the first few bags of groceries away.

"Yeah?" Jack's voice echoes down the hall, the sound of more paper bags rustling.

"Did you get- never mind!" You grin as you find the tub of cream cheese you'd been dying to get your hands on, practically tearing the package open and digging in. You let out a satisfied hum as you eat a spoonful of the spicy spread, nodding in satisfaction.

Jack enters the kitchen, arms full of groceries, an amused look on his face.

"As good as you'd hoped it'd be?" You hum again.

"Better. I think your child already has great taste in cuisine."

Jack stills for a fraction of a second, then smiles. He sets down the bags and moves over by your side, pressing a kiss to your forehead, carefully around the tender cut still hidden by a bandage.

"Yeah they do."

You both put away the food and various household items you'd needed to stock up on. Trash bags and pasta, that lavender creamer you loved and Jack's protein bars he always carried in his scrub pockets.

You munch on a bagel- properly toasted and spread with your cream cheese because Jack insisted on at least being civilized about your cravings- going through the last bag. The bag crinkles as you feel around inside; you frown as your hand comes into contact with something soft. Fluffy. You peer inside.

A little stuffed bunny peers back at you. You stare at it for a moment, and then you laugh.

"Jack?"

"What?" He asks, folding the towel he'd just used to wash his hands. You smile, holding up the bunny. His ears go pink and he gives you a bashful grin.

"I just thought... well I thought it might be cute for the baby. You know, rabbits are thought to be good luck charms or something."

You laugh, bright and hopeful and so in love.

"You're so sweet, you know that Jack Abbot?"

------------------------------------------------------

I am actually so obsessed with peter rabbit, it's not even funny. and I love the silly "jack rabbot" joke.

It was an early morning. They had a long drive ahead of them to their first extended family function of Y/n’s. Jack buttoned up his polo shirt and did that little head tilt he did when he wanted clarification on something. His upper lip curled. 

“Whose baby shower are we going to again? 

She chuckled as she pulled up the straps on her little blue spring dress. Ornate flowers ran up and down the fabric. She had researched what to wear to a baby shower and figured this was nice enough without overshadowing the mother-to-be.

“My cousin Sandra, remember?”

His brows furrowed, “Are we… close to this cousin?”

She blushed at that. ‘We’. ‘We’ as in her family was his, and his was hers. Granted, he didn’t have much family left these days. But she appreciated him including himself. They had been dating for a little over a year now, and while he had met her parents, he hadn’t met any of her extended family. 

“Not really, but I still wanna support her. Can you zip up my dress, dear?” 

He chuckled a little to himself as he strutted over. His fingers hung on the zipper for a moment.

“I much prefer to zip it down.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, smart ass. We don’t have the time for that.”

“You’re underestimating how quick I can be.” He murmured but obediently zipped her up. He patted her hips, looking up at their reflection in the mirror that hung on her closet. “You look beautiful.”

Her face fully reddened, and she shook her head gently, “You’re crazy.” 

His face contorted as if she had just said something so incredibly offensive. His hands glided from her hips to across her stomach, so she was more in a bear hug as he leaned his head against her shoulder.

“I’m not at all. I’m saying the truth.”

She gave him a pity chuckle and looked down at the floor. He turned to look at her now, not in the reflection. And his real-life gaze was much more intense. 

“Hey… what’s got my pretty girl all like this?”

With a little scoff, she waved it off, trying to seem nonchalant.

“I’m fine. It’s just my cousins will all be there, and they’re… literally models. I mean it. Like one of them is as a profession. And they always bring their boyfriends, so this is the first year that I’m…”

“Bringing someone.” He slowly nodded. “Is there anything I should know, baby?”

She shook her head, “Just that they may be a bit judgy because of the… you know…” she put her face in her hands, worried to admit this.

“The age gap.” He chuckled, “Baby, I already expected this. And when it comes to your cousins being models, who cares? You’re so beautiful. Comparing apples to oranges.”

He planted a kiss on the crook of her neck and squeezed her hips reassuringly. 

Walking up to the little blue house, Jack held the big gift bag, which carried a quilted play mat, and he held her shaky hand with his free one. The door was wide open, so they peeked their heads inside. The sound of chattering and laughter drifted from the backyard. Inside was covered in lacy, frilly decor. It looked as though the baby section of the department store had exploded. With blue bears everywhere, it was safe to say that it was going to be a boy.

At the sound of Jack shutting the door, Sandra walked through the kitchen holding her swollen stomach. Her eyes lit up. 

“Y/N! My goodness, it’s been ages. You look fantastic!”

“I can say the same to you! Congratulations.”

Jack held up the present, “Where can I put this?”

Sandra’s attention drifted, and her mouth stayed ajar as she processed for a moment. She suddenly seemed to remember that it was rude to stare at the handsome older man in front of her. 

“Oh- just on the dining table.” She made up for it with a smile. 

Jack nodded with an awkward no-teeth smile and shifted through the entryway to place the gift on the table overflowing with tissue-papered presents. Sandra watched him, then looked over to her with wide eyes. She mouthed a quick ‘wow’ before going,

“Is this your…?” 

She smiled proudly as Jack started making his way back over. “Boyfriend. Yes. This is my boyfriend, Dr. Jack Abbot.”

He chuckled and scratched his neck as he reunited with her side. 

“Quick braggin, sweetheart.” He put his hand out to Sandra, “Hi. Congratulations.”

Her cousin shook it and looked between the two.

“A doctor! Wow, Jesus. Grandma’s gonna love him, huh?”

And in that moment, she realized that this wasn’t going to be bad at all. This was actually going to be so completely and utterly perfect. For the first time in her entire life, she was going to prove that she was just as beautiful and capable of having a perfect boyfriend as her cousins and relatives. 

After some awkward introductions, Jack felt stiffer than usual. He tried his usual charisma, and it worked for the most part. Her grandma certainly was all over him. But there were a few weirded-out glares and stiff conversations from her older cousins and relatives. They all certainly fit her description. They had a ‘better than you’ air around them that would suffocate Y/n’s welcome until he showed up behind her like a guard dog. Then it would completely dissipate when he’d introduce himself and tell them he was a doctor. They were then left with an overall feeling of suspicious approval. 

As he sipped a beer, he sat with some of her uncles who were closer in his age range, though still older than him. He managed to win them over a little more by discussing his military service. Though he refused to reveal his leg. It wasn’t that he felt embarrassed by it. But the attention was already heavily on him, and he’d rather not take any more of it. Though as they sat in the heat, he was starting to regret the choice of khaki pants. 

The other men talked about the football season starting up in September, and Jack didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. So instead of trying to pretend he cared, he let his eyes drift over to his girl sitting on a patio chair. She had been dragged by her youngest cousins to go play with them across the yard. He watched as she held a one-year-old girl in her lap while talking to a little boy who couldn’t be more than nine. She was a clear favorite, considering the kids didn’t seem to bother any of her other cousins, who were much too busy with their own boyfriends. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled and laughed at the boy describing a scribbled drawing to her, the construction paper crinkled. It was as if she was genuinely interested in whatever nonsense he was probably spouting. 

His heart clenched. It had to be the baby shower theme. It had to be the decorations and the ultrasound pictures and the constant talk from the women in her family. But seeing her with the kids was making him feel something dangerous. He knew he couldn’t have kids. Not at 50. But Jesus, did the sight of her brushing that little girl's hair through her fingers make him want to change his mind. 

Suddenly, she pointed at him, clearly distinguishing him to the kids in front of her. They were talking about him. He broke out of his thoughts and pointed to himself with raised brows. She laughed and waved him over to the other side. Part of him felt guilty for not excusing himself, but he wasn’t about to ignore this for some stupid talk about ESPN hosts. 

He walked over and crossed his arms with a playful arch of his brow. 

“My ears were burning. Now who’s talking about me?”

The little boy grinned and pointed to Y/n. “She was!”

She gasped, “Jax! You asked who he was. You can’t throw me under the bus.”

“Well, who am I then, Jaxon?” Jack asked lightly

He shrugged and knelt down by the patio table. He put his paper down and returned to a set of sprawled-out crayons.  

“An old guy.” He said innocently

Ouch. 

She lightly smacked Jaxon’s shoulder, “Hey. Be nice.”

The kid smirked, and the little girl on her lap gurgled a laugh. Suddenly, another little girl appeared. She had been slowly making her way over, wringing her hands in her dress. It was clear she wanted to be with her cousin, but was also hesitant about the older man there. Y/n waved her over. 

“Hi, Janie.” She said in a much softer voice. A much different voice than she had with Jaxon.

“Hi.” 

“Let me do introductions.” She said, looking between everyone, “This is Jaxon, Janie, and their little sister Judy.” 

Jack smiled, “A lot of J names around her.” 

Janie nodded and looked down at the floor. Jack decided the best course of action was to squat down and sit by the patio table as well. Though his good knee let out a slight crack as he did so. Janie looked at him, suspicious, but didn’t run away.

“Well… It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Jack.”

Jaxon looked up from his paper with wide eyes, “YOU HAVE A J NAME TOO.”

“That’s right.” He nodded and snuck a look at the Transformer that the boy was drawing, “Look, I’m new here. So how about we make a J name pact?”

Jaxon’s face contorted, “What’s a pact?”

Y/n chuckled as she grabbed a small bowl of Cheerios to let Janie snack on in her lap. 

“A pact is like a promise.” 

Jack nodded, “Like a promise. That us J names have each other’s backs, alright? I need some protection. People watching my six.” He pointed to Janie, “You included. I need all the help I can get.”

Janie giggled at the idea of her protecting him. “I can’t help. I’m too little.”

“Sure, you can. You’re the toughest person here.” 

The kids giggled, and Y/n smiled at the interaction. She didn’t know Jack was so good with kids. She knew he dealt with them at work time to time, but she had never witnessed him in action. And he was somehow charming her little cousins, who usually didn’t trust too easily. 

Judy cooed and reached her hands out, and Jack gave her a little side eye. 

“She’s a close second.”

Soon, the kids were all over him. He hadn’t realized that his girlfriend was basically the glorified babysitter at these events until now. Jaxon was clinging to his good leg (thankfully). And Janie was bossing them around on how to play this game, which Jack was having a hard time telling what the exact rules were. 

Y/n sat busied with doting on little Judy. She watched Jack with a heart so full, knowing Jack was probably being drained a bit by the kids. Though he was doing the exact same to them, and their mothers would be thankful once they were napping on the car ride home. 

Her aunt called the kids to eat some real food, and they begrudgingly started to calm down. Jack ruffled Jax’s head.

“Go eat. You need protein to beat the lava monster.” 

With that totally sound logic, the kids practically booked it to grab a plate from their mom. And Jack limped back to his girl and sat next to her, Judy still in her lap. He winced and rubbed at the back of his prosthetic knee where skin met silicone. 

She reached over and rubbed his shoulder, “Your leg bothering you?”

He shook his head in a ‘so-so’ manner, not wanting to worry her. 

“It’s just sweaty, and when it sweats, it starts to chafe.” He grimaced a bit. “Just need to sit down for a bit.”

She laughed at that, “I’m sorry. My cousins are like that once they’re comfortable with someone… Or once they find a target that’ll play with them.”

Jack shook his head and looked down at Judy, who was biting her fist. He gently reached over and pinched the little rolls of her doughy arms. 

“Don’t apologize. They’re great.” He looked down and made an overly excited face at Judy, making the baby squeal with laughter. Oh, that sound was like the bells of heaven ringing. “You’re great, huh?”

She bounced the baby on her knee, making her laugh more. “You wanna hold her?”

He didn’t drop his face, keeping it happy looking to entertain Judy, “Only if she wants to.” 

Well, in convenient timing, the baby reached out and made grabby hands at Jack. 

“I think she wants to.” She smiled and handed Jack the baby.

He made a little groan as he wrapped his hands around her tummy and quickly positioned the almost toddler onto his lap. Judy clapped her hands and looked around for approval. Y/n quickly started clapping and letting out a little ‘Yay!’

The baby let out a huff, and Jack looked down at her. 

“Yeah. Long day, huh?” 

That made the both of them laugh. Jack casually squeezed her little doughy arms and reached over to grab the small bowl of puff snacks on the table. He handed it to her, and Judy shrieked excitedly. Jack smiled, proud of himself for making his girlfriend’s little cousins happy. 

“This is so so dangerous, sweetheart.” He murmured.

She smirked a little knowingly, “How so?”

“We’re too good at this.” He shook his head with a nervous smile, “Makes me think of things.”

Her eyes widened despite having put two and two together. The idea of kids was something they didn’t talk about much, but the general idea was that he was too old, and she liked her independence. She had always been that way. She liked being able to put herself first, and if she became a mother…she could never be selfish ever again. But the idea of kids with HIM? With Jack Abbot? For some reason, that was a lot more attractive. And more than attractive… it felt doable. 

She shook off the thought and smiled with a blushing face. 

“Yeah… Me too.” She admitted, watching Judy shove little star puffs into her mouth. “How about we revisit this when we’re…” She looked around at all the baby shower decorations. The little clothes and footie pajamas hanging around. The ultrasound pictures. The cutesy stuffed animals. “... more immune to propaganda.”

Jack chuckled, looking around himself. “I completely agree.”

A little later into the evening, it was getting close to leaving time, and all the adults sat at a long picnic table outside. The heat at least seemed to be settling down as the high noon sun set a little more. She and Jack had played a few of the baby shower games. Watched Sandra open presents with her beau. And did their best to get some time away from the little cousins. 

One of her cousins squeezed her boyfriend’s hand, directing her half-lidded eyes to Y/n. “So… how did you meet Jack?” 

She smiled, unfazed, “Our mutual friend, Dana, set us up.”

Jack scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah. Basically, a blind date, and I nearly passed out because Dana had failed to mention how freaking gorgeous you are.”

“Oh shut up.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, taking a sip of her drink.

“It’s true!” 

Her aunt piped up and pointed between the two of them, “And you two aren’t bothered by the… well, by the age gap? I feel like I’d have nothing in common with someone like that.”

It was a bit of a sting, but the two of them were used to it. 

She shrugged. 

“We’re not really bothered. And it’s not like I’ve ever been overly trendy or anything. Honestly, I haven’t seen a big difference other than he’s more mature than any man my age.” At that, her older cousins looked at each other. It wasn’t meant to be a dig, but if the shoe fits. 

Her aunt let out a little, “Huh,” and leaned back in her chair. 

Suddenly, her grandma tapped the table, “Well, that just means you gotta get started on the grandbabies right away!”

Both her and Jack choked on their drinks.

“GRANDMA!” She laughed in shock as the rest of the table died in laughter, “Look, we’re not even married yet. Let that wait for just a bit more, okay?”

Under the table, she felt Jack reach down and squeeze her thigh. His grip a mix of fabric and skin. She flushed and bit her lip through her smile, trying to seem totally cool. Jack had been getting on her about getting married for the past month, so she knew she was in for the best kind of trouble when she got home. 

Sandra rubbed her stomach, “Well, I wish you guys luck with everything. I’m sure whatever you decide will be best. Clearly, you’ve brought home a big catch.”

The table laughed again, and Jack raised his hands, waving them off.

“No, no… If anything, I’m the lucky one. Every day I wake up, and I can’t believe that a woman like your Y/n is with a guy like me.” 

At that, all the girls swooned. The cousins. The aunts. They were all definitely won over by the handsome Dr. Jack Abbot. And she felt so completely satisfied. 

“Thank you. You’re crazy, baby.” She chuckled and leaned over to give him a quick peck. 

The kids watching from the end of the table let out a ‘EWWWWW’ and she shook her head with a laugh. Jack pointed to them.

“Hey, the J Name Pact. Remember?”

— 

“H—hello?” You blinked at your phone a few times, giving your tired eyes a few seconds to adjust. An unknown caller was ringing you, one hour before you’re meant to wake up for work and two hours before your shift. “Who are you sorry?”

The person on the phone spoke too slowly for your liking, and they rambled on about needing you to come in. You wondered if they were either new to the job or just really terrible at doing it. 

“Sorry, do you have the right number?”

They asked for your name, and after confirming, the person on the phone then explained that they were calling from an ER, telling you that your dad was in the hospital, although now discharged and he needed to be picked up.

“I need to speak with him” you were now fully awake, and fighting back nausea, “put him on the phone.”

“Ma’am, I can’t do that, it’s policy so please—“

“I don’t give a single flying fuck about your policy, put my dad on the phone!”

“Ma’am, as I said —“

“Do not fucking ma’am me right now!” The hammering of your heart in your chest was making it incredibly difficult for you to stand, and the shaking of your hands made it impossible for you to put your clothes on. “Why is he in the ER and why did it take you this long to contact me?!”

The voice on the other end launched into a not-so-rushed explanation; something about police, procedure, questions but, the words blurred together into meaningless words. 

“Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes” 

Then you hung up before they could say another word.

You grabbed your keys and phone, rushing out of the door, giving your dad a call on the way there. No answer. Another call, followed by a million more, and he still wasn’t answering. The ride was a lot longer than five minutes; it felt like an eternity.

There were two men in your life you cared about: your dad and Jack. And knowing that your dad was in the ER, not knowing why or how long for, given his health struggles… Thoughts started rushing through your mind, mainly terrible, awful ones.

“Call Jack,” you choked out to the automated system.

The screen lit up.

Calling… Jenna.

“No, no— cancel!”

You slammed the button and tried again, voice cracking. “Call Jack.”

Calling… Jason.

“Fuck!” Your hand hit the steering wheel hard enough to sting. “Who the fuck is Jason! Cancel call!”

Another attempt. Another wrong number.

You pulled up outside the hospital and slammed on your brakes, jumping out of the car. The driver’s door hung wide open behind you as you sprinted toward the entrance.

First it was anxitey you were feeling as you walked through the doors.

Then it was anger.

Pure, strong, pulsating rage.

Your dad was asleep on a chair, slumped over, with no shoes, no blanket. Just himself and a bag of medicine in his hand. 

You rushed over to him and immediately checked for a pulse. “Dad it’s me”

He opened his eyes, his beautiful, tired eyes and managed a smile.

“What happened, dad?” 

“Hi sweety, I’m doing…okay. His speech came out in it's usual way, since the stroke, slow and slurred.

“I need to know what happened and what they did” you managed a small, forced smile.

“I don’t remember much”

“How long have you been here for? Do you know where your shoes are?”

He shook his head. 

“Okay, wait here” you got up and marched over to a small window — the woman behind it sipped slowly on a hot drink as she scrolled through her phone. 

You cleared your throat, but that didn’t seem to have caught her attention over the loud music blasting from her phone. 

You tapped your fingers gently on the counter, as if to say, I’m here and I’m waiting. 

Nothing. 

You slammed your hand on the glass window and that seemed to get her attention.

“Busy night?” You said sarcastically, “My dad over there, I need to know what happened”

The woman looked up slowly, chewing her gum like she had all the time in the world. You saw too many teeth and too much tongue. 

“Did he not tell you?” She looked back at her phone.

“Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you”

“He fell, but the doctor said he’s all good” she said casually, eyes flicking back to her phone. 

And then your patience string finally snapped. 

Two hands now slammed on the glass window, and this time, it was a yell. “Look at me! And tell me, what the fuck happened to my dad!”

“If you don’t calm down, I will call security”

“If they are as useless as you, then please do!” Another yell filled a very empty ER. You wondered if it was empty because their care was poor or because they discharged patients, so they were another department’s problem. 

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. You shook your head, gave her not one, but two middle fingers and walked back to your dad. “C’mon we’re leaving” you said calmly as you helped him stand up “we’ll talk in the car, okay?”

“Yes, sweety” he nodded slowly. 

You helped him get up and carefully made your way out to your car. You sat him in the back, so he didn’t see your tears run as you drove him to PTMC. 

“Dad I need you to try very hard to remember… it’s okay if you don’t but anything that can help me.” you said “What happened at home?

“I fell” he said weakly “And the… neighbour heard it, so he called an ambulance”

“Does anywhere hurt?”

“My… head” he said slowly “shoulder too”

“Dad, did they put you in a big machine? To scan your head?”

“No I was in one bed the whole time”

“Did a nurse… like me, come in and poke a needle in your arm?”

He mumbled something and you couldn’t understand him. You were normally pretty good at understanding him but he seems to have gotten worse. Your mind was scanning for possible injuries, and illness, and of course, further strokes. You called the emergency line at PTMC, this time not asking the automated system to do it for you. 

“Lena It’s me” your voice broke and you didn’t hide your tears from your dad this time “I need help — I need someone to meet me outside with a gurney, please. Dad’s had a fall, and it’s a long story but Lena I need… help please”

“Okay sweet, we’re waiting. Drive safe okay? I’ll let Jack you called”

Jack. Shit. Your stomach dropped. You forgot to call or update him. You looked at the time, and you should have started work hours ago. 

You said quietly, “okay, see you soon”

You kept glancing into the back seat as you drove. Your dad was slumped there, drifting in and out of consciousness, his head rolling slightly with each turn.

“Hey, Dad… stay with me, alright?” you tried, voice shaking as you spoke to him between breaths. “What did you have for breakfast today? Did you eat anything? Tell me about your day…”

By the time you pulled into the ambulance bay, there was already a small crowd of anxious faces waiting. Jack opened the back door, and the team helped your dad get out and onto a gurney. 

“Male, 78, head injury” you said quitely as you leaned against the car, legs slowly giving up “he—he was at a different ER and uh…”

“Previous history of stroke” Jack cut in, completing the history because he knew it would be too difficult for you to say it, “response might be slow, but this is usual for him. Do not speak on his behalf and do not finish his sentences for him”

He smiled at your dad giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

“Good to see you, son”

“I’d say likewise but I don’t like seeing you like this” he said, focusing all his attention and love on him. 

You followed them into the trauma room and watched Jack assess, calm and collected, as always. 

Someone drew bloods, and you noticed that there were no puncture wounds anywhere on his arms. They didn’t even do the basic checks on him, and you felt the same anger as you did before rise in your chest. 

You stood in the corner, leaning against the wall, feeling like you might pass out. 

“They thought I was drunk” he mumbled, “but they didn’t understand that’s who I am”

You put your hand over your mouth to silence a small sob. 

“I’m sorry that happened” Jack replied softly, “and I’ll make sure they’re aware of how bad they treated you. Let’s get you better, alright? We need to rule out any injuries to your head. Do you remember the big machine that looked like a doughnut?”

Your dad nodded.

“We’re gonna take you up there, I’ll stay here if that’s alright? Need to make sure she’s okay,” his voice was gentle and caring — another reminder why you loved him so much. 

“Take care of her” he said slowly “she’s been crying the whole drive here”

Jack gave him a small smile and rested his hand on his “it’s because she loves you”.

One of the nurses smiled warmly at the exchange, but when her gaze shifted to you, her expression abruptly changed. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening in panic. 

You frowned at her. “Ww—what?”

She lifted a hesitant finger “You’re bleeding”

Jack’s head snapped in your direction, along with everyone else’s. Warm, dark blood was steadily dripping down your face. You touched it, realising with a jolt that it wasn’t sweat from anxiety — it was blood pouring out of your nose. 

“I’m fine” you said quickly as you reached over for a wipe “It happens, when I’m stressed”. 

Jack gave you a look of this has never happened before.

“I’ll be right here, Dad, okay?” You went over to him “I’m not going anywhere”

Despite the weakness in his hand, he still managed to squeeze yours. 

As they wheeled him out, Jack was by your side, anticipating the sobs that were about to happen. He quietly but firmly said “Can everyone clear the room, please?”

He pulled you against his chest, blood and tears soaked into his scrubs as one arm wrapped securely around you and the other rubbed slow, soothing circles across your back. He rocked you gently, whispering comforting words that everything would be okay, that you were both safe now, and that he had you.

“I’ve got blood all over you” you mumbled as you pulled back “sorry”.

He grabbed the wipe from you and carefully cleaned your face. “Don’t worry about that. C’mon, let’s get you somewhere private sweetheart”

You nodded. He took your hand and led you to an empty room down the hall. Once inside, he pinched the bridge of your nose to slow the bleeding while wiping away the rest of the dried blood.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call — I tried, then the stupid car wouldn’t understand what I was saying”

“It’s okay, baby” he whispered, “I was worried sick, thinking the worst has happened, but I’m glad you’re safe and back with me”

“You should have seen him Jack” you cried “all alone in an ER with no shoes on, no phone, no ID, nothing. They didn’t do a basic blood test on him and h—he hit his fucking head!”

He sat on the bed next to you, and you leaned back in his arms “Which hospital was that?”

“Uh… the one closest to his house I can’t remember the name” You had an awful headache coming on, and the lights suddenly became too bright. 

“I know which one” he muttered, “that’s a terrible hospital, really poor inspection reports too. I bet with my complaint coming their way, they’d have the department of health knocking on their door by the morning”

“And the woman behind the desk my God — absolutely useless!” 

“You feeling okay?” He said gently as he leaned some more, “You’re squinting, are the lights too bright?”

You nodded and softly said, “Just a headache”.

“Okay, sweetheart, get some rest. I’ll go wait for your dad's results okay? Then I’ll be back with you”

You shifted off the bed and said “No, no I need to get ready for my shift and—“ 

Jack titled his head playfully and gently pushed you back into the bed “no, you’re not. You’re going to rest, and I think we both agree that you’re in no state to work”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“I’ll be back, get some rest” he kissed your lips and got off the bed, turning the lights off on his way out.

“Hi, this is Dr Jack Abbot from PTMC” he said as he stood by Lena at the hub “I need to speak with your attending” 

He ensured that there was no please, added at the end of it. 

After listening to what felt like the worst holding music ever, someone picked up the phone and joyfully said “Hell'oooooo”

Jack frowned and muttered what the fuck. “Who am I speaking to?”. 

The attending gave his name and all of the medical titles he seemed to have collected over the years.

“Listen — doc. I have one of your patients here; it seems like you’ve discharged him inappropriately”

Jack continued, giving him patient details and medical history, asking for a request on what tests they’ve already done.

The attending said “Uh… so we didn’t think he needed a CT scan because this wasn’t the first time he’s had a fall”

“You…” Jack took a deep breath in “didn't….think to give an elderly man a CT scan after hitting his head?”

“As I said, the man who appeared drunk at first, has been in a couple of times and—“

“The man had a stroke you ass—“ Lena nudged Jack hard and he bit his tongue “Did you even check his chart?”

Jack was now pacing around the hub, feeling the pressure spike in his veins and feeling the same headache that you had. It infuriated him the lack of urgency and the poor medical advice he had to listen to from a guy who somehow managed to collect at least four titles.

“Let’s say he was drunk. Did you check his alcohol levels?” …. “oh you didn’t. Okay” …. “By the sounds of it you didn’t a lot, did you?”

A nurse walked back with your dad’s results on the iPad and Jack flicked through them as the doctor rambled on. 

“Well, I’m not going to tell you what the results of his CT scans were, but let me tell you this… you will be hearing from James Lee in the morning”.

The doctor stuttered, “J—James? You know James?”

“A very good friend of mine, yes. I’ll pass your regards to him”

James worked for the health department, and he was in charge of inspections and operations. Having inspected PTMC multiple times, he and Jack became friends over the years. “So I would suggest you send over every bit of detail you have on our patient, and I’d like to have it in the next 30 minutes” he said, “actually make it ten because my patience has run out” … “oh you don’t have my email? Figure it out.”

He hung up then slammed the phone on the desk. 

“Absolutely appalling!” He snapped looking at the results “He’s had another stroke —by the looks of it, it happened a few weeks ago!”

“What?” You said from behind Jack, and you felt yourself stumble, “he had another one?”

Jack’s head snapped in your direction and he was by your side within seconds “Sweetheart, the results just came through"

You nodded but the words didn’t feel real. 

Suddenly, everything felt distant. Like people didn’t exist and life didn’t mean anything. Everything was distant and hazy, and your body no longer felt yours. That anxiety that was bubbling this whole time? It had finally poured over, but not in a way you expected it to. 

The room fell silent or maybe that was just your hearing. 

You felt Jack’s hands reach for you, but you brushed him off and stumbled down the hall, pushing outside into the night air. Traffic sounds were muffled by the loud ringing in your ears.

Then, like an imaginary snap of a finger, lava erupted in your chest.

Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You gasped for air, but you felt as though your lungs no longer worked. 

You tapped on your chest a few times, a movement you thought would awaken your lungs, but that didn’t help. 

You gasped again as you stumbled and reached for a wall that seemed to keep moving further away from you. 

This time, hands wrapped around your waist and steadied you. 

“… can’t breathe” you gasped, clawing at your neck, hoping it’d open up your airway.

That lava now burned your chest, and you felt heat slowly wrap its hand around your neck 

“Ja—ack can’t breathe” 

Jack quickly lowered you to the ground and knelt in front of you, grabbing both of your hands.

“Close your eyes, and trust me, please, baby. Close your eyes”

You squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Now I want you to focus on my hands that are touching yours. Forget about everything else but focus all your attention on my touch”

His warm and gentle thumbs moved in slow circles on your palms.

“Good, you’re doing so good baby” he said softly “now I want you to take a slow breath for me”

“I—can’t”

“Yes you can” he whispered, “just try once okay. Just one… slow… deep breath”

You took one slow, painful, deep breath.

“That’s it” another gentle whisper, “now breathe out slowly”

You let out a shaky and warm breath.

“Now let’s do that a few times. Another one c’mon”

Eyes still shut, another painful deep breath in and a shaky breath out. The pain seemed to have eased with every deep breath, but the ache in your heart was worse. 

“That’s it, you’re doing great” he whispered as he leaned in “now this next one, I don’t usually recommend or do on patients”

His lips gently pressed against yours. Suddenly, you felt safe, and despite your breath catching in your chest, you felt alive again.

“Good job baby” he whipsered against your lips “you did so well”

You nodded, eyes still closed but slowly coming back to yourself. 

“Last one is having to listen to my ugly voice okay?” 

You let out a small, broken laugh. 

“I need you to open your eyes and pick one”

You slowly opened your teary eyes. Jack had his phone resting on your lap, screen glowing with house listings.

“Jack…what’s this?”

He was smiling despite the obvious anxiety on his face “Pick a house”

“Baby, we already have a house”

“I’ve had this thought for some time… so I’ve saved a few options.” He said “A house big enough for three”

“Are you pregnant, Jack?” You managed a small joke despite the heavy feeling in your chest. 

“I wish” he chuckled softly “but I’d like him to move in with us. I've thought about it for a while and after what happened today... That’s the right thing to do and also… You would be a lot less anxious. I don’t ever want to see you have a panic attack ever again"

“You’d really do that for me?”

Jack looked at you like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Loving you doesn’t mean just you, it means loving your family and the person who raised you”

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, fresh tears now covered your cheeks and this time, from overwhelming relief instead of fear.

You whispered, “thank you”.