“Dr Abbot?” her open question makes him peer up again. Her expression was warm, a gentle smile across her mouth. She extends out her hand, waiting patiently for him to accept it. He does eventually, using his other free hand to press against the floor. His knees cracked as he stood, prosthetic sending an aching pain through his leg. He shook his pant legs down back to his ankles where they had risen up slightly before beginning the trek down to where you had been taken. The first year resident remained by his side as they progressed further towards their destination, arms held out in anticipation of her boss potentially stumbling over. 

The shouting had began instantly. He could hear his fellow attendings yelling instructions and vitals to everyone else crowding around you. He caught a blur of army green scrubs rushing past him, heading straight for the same place. 

“We need to get her stable.” he heard her command. “There’s a heart on it’s way here from New York for her.” Jack’s boots tripped on the air as the words left the cardiologist’s mouth, hands reaching out towards the whitewashed walls to stabilise himself. Nazely immediately placed her palms against Jack’s back. 

He could feel it in an instant. The silence. In the usually loud and hectic ED, he could hear none of it. Not the machines registering your heart rate or the medical professionals all rushing to bring you back. His vision tunnelled. His breathing became erratic. He’d been around trauma enough to recognise the signs. 

He kept trying to tell himself that it was going to be ok. That his body was reacting in a completely valid way considering the situation. But that didn’t stop the panic rising up into his throat at the sight of you, lifeless on the gurney. Wires and tubes coming out of your body. 

“Jack.” he could vaguely make out Lena’s figure in front of him. He could feel a pressure now clenching tight against his biceps. “You need to breathe, Jack.” He read her lips, trying to nod in agreement, willing his body to comply.

The redhead had been stood at the other side of the trauma rooms at the main hub, watching the incident unfold. Her line of sight had moved past the scene straight through the other set of doors, right at Jack Abbot. 

They’d worked together on the night shift for over a decade. She’d like to think she knew her colleague reasonably well. So when she noticed the way his eyes were glazing over and his breathing had deepened, she had to do something. She’d reached him within seconds, already extending her arms out to ground him.

After nearly a full two minutes of his hyperventilating, she noticed his chest finally taking deeper inhales. She let out a heavy  breath of her one, one she didn’t even realise she was holding in.

“She’s-“ Jack struggled to get his words out, mouth dry from his panic attack. 

“She’s going to be heading up to surgery for the transplant as soon as she’s stable. Dr Paulson is going to be there with Dr Barrett, who will be leading.” He nodded in agreement with her words. His vision, now returned reasonably back to normal,  fell over the trauma room. There was a calming atmosphere now flooding the space. The beeping from the monitors had evened out, there was less shouting and he noticed the amount of people surrounding you had reduced. 

“Dr Abbot,” he noticed the cardiology stepping out towards him. “She’s going up now if you want to see her.” He looks back at her with a shocked expression. Jack was surprised he would even be allowed in the room with you, let alone being given the chance to actually speak to you. He truly believe he didn’t have the right anymore. However, he was not going to waste the opportunity given to him. 

Regina steps aside to allow him entry, his gaze now on you fully. Your colouring had somewhat returned back to a healthier tinge than it had been and he could hear your heart rate getting as steady as it could be with every beat. 

“Hey sweetheart,” his hand rested gently on your forehead, pushing a few strands of hair that had become slick with sweat away from the oxygen mask covering your face. He notices your eyelids flicker briefly before opening just a sliver. You let out a shaky breath, fingers moving across the sheets to reach any part of him. The crinkle of the fabric forces him to look down, using his free hand to grab yours. “I’m here.” A soft moan leaves your lips.

Jack feels the stares against his back from his colleagues, who are either stood at the edge of the room or looking in through the glass doors from various parts of the main hub. He couldn’t care about them. All he could focus on was your eyes lingering on him. 

“They’re going to be taking you up soon.” His palm pressed against your now rosy, warm cheek. “I don’t really know what to say to you. I feel like nothing I say will ever be enough. I assume you found out about what I was going to do and that’s why you were here. You’re very determined when you put your mind to something. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you. I thought it was the only way to fix what I’d done.” he felt your fingers tighten ever so slightly. “I will never forgive myself for what I did to you.”

“Jack-“ you mumbled against the clear plastic. 

“It’s time to go.” Michael’s voice cut through yours, already reaching for the side rails, his voice stern. He catches the way his friends lip begins trembling.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Jack presses a kiss on your forehead, shuddering as he feels the way your face moves up slightly towards his touch. He allows himself to take a step back, watching as his colleagues start wheeling the bed through the open door. “You’ve always had my heart. Always and forever.” 

“Jack?” Dana called out across the silent house. She’d been collecting some more personal belongings of yours into the lilac suitcase, grabbing anything she think you’d need for the continuous stay at PTMC. You’d been in the transplant surgery for nearly two hours, with many still expected. 

The case had been packed for the last few minutes, zipped and placed by the front door.

Jack had been upstairs, having immediately headed up when they’d first got there. Nobody knew the reason why he had elected to accompany the charge nurse on her quest. Now 20 minutes later, she hadn’t heard anything from him since. 

She took the steps two at a time before heading down the softly lit landing towards the main bedroom at the end of the hall. 

“Hey, we ready or what?” she catches his frame sat in the middle of the illuminated walk in closet, with his back facing her.

He remembered when he’d first shown you the addition. You’d told him when you first started dating that it had always been your dream to have one when you eventually had your own place.  A big one like Mia’s in the second Princess Diaries movie. When you’d both made the decision to move in together and found the perfect place, he’d secretly got planning permission and paid extra to have it done before you’d began bringing your possessions into the new home. You’d nearly cried when he’d shown you. When he questioned your tears, you’d mumbled about finally having a partner who saw every part of you and who wanted to celebrate them. 

Now he was sat surrounded by all your clothes and shoes he remembered helping you put away. You’d both drunk far too much wine that night and ended up having to redo it over the next few days. 

“Jack?” he doesn’t respond to her, just keeps his attention on the small item he was clutching in his hands. 

“This was still exactly where I hid it when we moved in here. Right inside the hiking boots I’d got her, thinking she’d ever use them.” Dana could hear the shakiness in his voice. She moved around the cream carpet to place herself in front of him, crouching down on her knees. She finally was able to identify the red leather box sat in his palms. “I got this about six months in. Knew I was going to do it at some point so wanted to be prepared. Every time I wanted to, I chickened out. Thinking it was the wrong time, it needed to be more special.” 

“You know she wouldn’t have cared. She would have been happy regardless.” She watches as he opens the box, revealing an golden ring, set with a solitaire design. Right in the middle, a larger oval diamond. Jack had seen it on your pinterest one night as you were both laying in bed, his eyes gazed subtly as he watched your fingers  hesitate over the image. You quickly pinned it to a board with the heart eyes emoji as a title, before swiping off the app completely. 

“Still, I was a coward. Now, I won’t get the chance to give it to her.” 

“You don’t know that, Abbot. The world works in complicated ways.” 

“I broke her heart, Dana. Both figuratively and literally. How can she ever forgive me for that?” the box falls from Jack’s hands onto the plush flooring. 

“You earn it back. She’s having the transplant and she’s going to be ok. You can’t undo what you’ve done but you can try to learn from it.” Her arm weaves across his shoulders, pressing gently into his bicep. “Now if I know this girl, and I feel like the many, many years I’ve worked along side her mean anything, I know that she will forgive you. It may take time, and a hell of a lot of grovelling but she will.” 

“You think?” Jack reaches up to rub away the tears that had began falling down his cheeks. “Lord knows I don’t deserve her forgiveness. But I’m going to work my hardest to earn it back. Even if she doesn’t want to be my wife. I’ll settle for just having her in my life.” 

“Look at you.” Dana gave one of her signature smirks. “Talking in rhymes, you’re getting back to your old self already.” 

Jack takes in her expression, returning a small smile. He lets out a deep breath, before pocketing the ring box in his grey slacks. 

When the day shift pittlings turned up, they were greeted by the news from John that you were in recovery. They had all let out a quiet blessing in their own ways, before heading towards the lockers. When they returned back to the central desks for handovers, they noticed a collection of greeting cards littering the side. Some cheesy saying on the front with a obscene amount of positive messages written inside, covering both sides. All well wishes for you. 

Mel quickly grabs the closest pen before scribbling something in one of the last available spaces. 

“Right, everyone.” Michael’s voice cuts across the hub, gaining everyones attention. “Now, I’m going to address this once so everyone can concentrate on helping the mass amount of people out in chairs. The surgery and transplant were successful. There were no complications. She’ll be up for visitors when she’s awake but once she’s a bit stronger. All of you know that she will be on very powerful immunosuppressants to prevent the heart from rejecting. If you have even the slightest cough or you feel even slightly rundown, you will not be seeing her until you are feeling better. Even if you are feeling fine and are going upstairs, you will still wear a mask and sanitise as much as you can. If you have also dealt with an infectious patient, wear a gown or if you have them, change clothes. We all want her back to her usual self as soon as possible so please take these precautions to ensure her recovery is as smooth.” 

A murmur of agreements fell over the crowd now gathered around the chief. 

“I will try and update you all when I can but please try and put all your energy into help keeping this ED running. Let’s go!” he threw his arms up in enthusiasm. 

“Do you think Abbot knows?” Trinity asked, line of sight already leering towards the illuminated patient board. 

“Of course he does. He’s probably still up on the surgical floor waiting room.” Dennis answered. “He’s usually there if he’s not on shift.” 

“At least he’s attempting to fix what he’s done.”

“Yes, he is.” They hear Dana scold beside them makes them all jump in surprise. “Now get to work.”  They all scramble away, all turning off in different directions. The nurse lets out a chuckle, content with the power she still holds, before returning to her work. 

Jack stands awkwardly at the ICU room door, contemplating his next move. Whether he should cross the threshold. The blue mask sat comfortably on his face, hands already washed and sanitised extensively before he even thought about approaching. You’d been brought down from recovery nearly an hour ago. He’d hesitated to approach when he saw you being wheeled past him as he paced the waiting room. 

“I think she’s going to be ok, Abbot.” Emery Walsh knocks him out of the deep place he’d sunk into. She’s takes off her matching purple scrub cab, scrunching it into her palm. “We all worked hard to get her that heart. Don’t go breaking it again, ok?” She gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder before stalking off back towards the elevator. 

He knows she meant it in jest, however the comment hits straight into his chest. He’d finally gained a sense of confidence in himself to actually talk to you properly to express his feelings. Emery’s words had sent him tumbling down again. 

“Fuck. Pull yourself together, Jack.” he mumbled, finally dragging himself off the uncomfortable chair to the bathroom. He’d washed his hands as good as he could, sanitising one last time for good measure before pulling a face mask from the dispenser on the wall. 

He would’t ever get used to the sight of you with an endotracheal tube coming out of your mouth. He knew it was breathing for you, it was one of the things keeping you alive right now. The multiple machines surrounding you all continued to sound out different noises, all indicating that you were ok. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His body took him over to your bedside, choosing to stand to look over you. From this angle, he can see the large white gauze placed vertically down the centre of your chest peeking out from the collar of the hospital gown. The chest tube also rests through the hole, disappearing down the other side of the gurney. 

“I had a whole thing prepared, what I was going to say to you but bloody Emery put me off. You would have had a go at her if you were there.” He lets out a small laugh, trailing off when you didn’t reply. “I’m sorry that I hurt you so much. It was never my intention and I know now how wrong I went about everything. I should have just spoken to you. I don’t know why I didn’t in the first place. You wouldn’t have been mad. I just got too in my own head about everything. I knew you deserved better than what I was giving you. I just hate the way I did it. I’m trying to learn to forgive myself but that’s going to take a lot of time. I just want you to know that I won’t be angry or upset if you don’t want me in your life anymore. I’ve hurt you in more ways than a person should and I would never hold it against you. I love you more than life itself and if you still want me, I will spend the rest of our time together proving it. Proving how sorry I am.”

“Dude, that is gonna be such a sick scar.” Trinity watches in awe as the cardiology nurse examines your incision. You give her a smile in return, before thanking her as she stalks out the room. 

“Trinity, you are here for important reasons. You’re my informant and you’ve currently given me nothing. Come on, I’ve been awake for a week and a half. There has to be have been something happen.”

“You’re all people can talk about right now. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to any of us in a while.”

“I mean, I am the life and soul of the ED but surely there has got to be other stuff.” She takes a second to think, shuffling her phone around in her hand. After nearly a minute, she yelps.

“Princess hooked up with Nick!” You let out a loud gasp, wincing as the action irritates your sore throat.

“From radiology?” she nods. “She’s been trying to sleep with him for ages! Nice one, girl!”

“I know! I caught her and Perlah talking about it yesterday. It’s honestly great knowing Tagalog because those two know everything.”

“And that’s why I come to you, Trin.” 

You both settle into a comfortable silence, both scrolling through random crap on your phones. 

“How is he?” you ask, causing her to gaze up slightly. She takes a deep breath, locking her phone and placing it on the table beside her. 

“He’s ok. He just comes to work and that’s it. He doesn’t stay longer than his shifts anymore, only comes in if he’s called. I even heard from Dana that he’s quit the SWAT team.” 

Your immediate reaction slips from your lips.“What the fuck?” 

“I know, right. I take it he hasn’t been to see you?” 

“Not on his own. He always just lingers by the door when other people are here and when I try to speak to him privately, someone or something happens and he takes the opportunity to leave.” 

“Well, he’s a shithead.” You nod in agreement. “Are you going to forgive him?” 

Her question halts your actions, fingers hovering over the keys of your MacBook. You let out a deep sigh, running your hand across your face. 

“I still love him. Even though he was doing it all for both our benefits, he still hurt me so much. Like I have to take medication for the rest of my life now and that’s all because of him. I think deep down though, I know I will.”

“You’re going to make him sweat though, yeah?” You give her a unamused look. “Oh come on. You’re not gonna give in immediately, are you? I know for a fact that he will do anything to get you to forgive him. Why not try to get something out of it?”

“Trinity. That’s not nice.”

“He fucking broke your heart! Literally broke it! You have the scars to prove it.” Her hands gestured to your incision. 

Her words made you pause. You love Jack and even after everything you still wanted to be with him. But she did have a point. You’d spent the last near 3 months in consistent pain all due to him. You wouldn’t be able to let him off that easy. He had to work his way back into your new heart.

“I’ll think about it. I don’t think I could ever be mean to him like that, Trin. He means too much to me.” 

“Who are you going to get to look after you when you get home? I know your parents can’t come.” You give her a guilty look, gaze falling down to the webpage you’d been scrolling. “Oh come on.” 

“I don’t have anybody else, Trinity.” 

“Honestly, if I was in your position, I wouldn’t want him anywhere near me.” 

“But you’re not. And you don’t know what he means to me. I haven’t even asked him so he could still say no.” 

“You know he won’t.” She stands, shrugging her scrub pants back down her legs where they had risen up. “Is there anybody else you wanna see?” You take a chance to stare out the window, watching as the sun began rising across the skyline. 

“See if he’ll finally come see me. His shift should be over soon. Even if you have to trick him and say someone else is still here.” Trinity’s face falls into a smug smirk. 

“You literally just said you’d never be mean to him like that. Such a hypocrite.” She jokes, grabbing her hoodie from the back of the chair before heading towards the door. 

“Just do it.” You quickly grab a plush pillow, throwing it directly at her. 

“Take it easy!” Her hands swiftly chuck it at the end of the bed, laugh echoing through the corridor as she stalks away. 

“Jack Abbot. As I live and breathe.” His figure halts in the doorway, eyes trailing over the room. He notices the lack of his colleague instantly. “How nice of you to finally grace me with your presence.” 

“Is Ellis here?” His head turns back down towards the hallway. 

“No, I made Trinity do anything to get you up here.” He let out a deep sigh, already reaching out to spin on his heel. “Jack, please don’t leave. You at least owe me that.” He stops, realising you were right. It was the least he could do. “It was either this or I come down to the ED again, and we know how that ended.” you let out a nervous laugh, fingers already picking at the IV tape on the back of your hand. 

“Please don’t say that.” His gaze falls to the floor. “Don’t make me think about how I continue to ruin your life.” 

“Jack, you-“ 

“Why do you still want to see me?” a mixture of anger and sadness flooded his voice. “When I have done nothing but hurt you consistently for the last 3 months.” He looks up at you, tears already streaming down his cheeks. “You deserve better than this! Than me! This is why I left in the first place. Because I can’t give you what you need. You should-” 

“You’re not allowed to be angry,” you mimic him, cutting his words short. You could feel your new heart thumping, causing your breathing to pick up ever so slightly. “I am the only person allowed to be pissed off right now.” 

“Then do it! Shout at me. Curse at me. Tell me you never want to see me again!” He takes a step towards your bed, hands reaching up in exaggeration. He expects you to yell back, continue fighting with him like the determined person you were. 

However the room fell into silence, bar your now heavier breathing. He takes a moment to fully look at you. Your skin had paled, lip quivering, hands shaking. “Sweetheart.” He continues to your side, already reaching to place you in his grasp. His face quickly leaves your line of sight to look at your vitals. 

“I can’t do that, Jack.” you whispered so quietly, he nearly didn’t hear it. “Even after everything.” he turns back to you, placing his palm against your warm cheek. You press your face into his touch further. 

“How can you still love me after everything?”

“I-“ The words caught in your throat. “I just do. I have since I first saw you all those years ago, even when I didn’t think you felt the same. It’s like I was bound to you, something was tying us together when we didn’t even realise. My heart doesn’t know how to function without you, Jack.” 

“Maybe,” his hand falls down to your chest, resting softly over your left side. “With this new heart, it’s time for a change. For both of you to love someone who will give you everything.” 

“I don’t want to. I want you, Jack.” You beg. He pulls back from your body, choosing to continue the conversation in the middle of the room. “Please, don’t do this again. This heart in my body doesn’t know anything but loving you. Please don’t leave me again.” You throw back the soft blankets, swinging your frame around to stand. His arms flinch ever so slightly, ready to catch you if you should fall. He let’s you find your balance, feet slowly padding over the tiled flooring towards him. 

You immediately wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him tight against you. He could feel the droplets falling onto his scrubs. 

“I let you go too many times. I’m not doing it again.” you mumble into his neck, fingers grasping into the black fabric. His own arms weave around your waist, scrunching the gown up. 

“Ok, sweetheart.” his head turns slightly, pressing his lips into your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

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“You had a STEMI. We lost you at one point. You’ve got a graft and an LVAD in.”

“Am I going to be ok?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to be giving you that kind of-“

“Fucking hell, Frank.” You cut him off with a shout. The ache that bloomed across your heart limited your own outburst. A gasp left your lips, hand coming up to rest against the organ. The monitors sounded in irregularity.

“Jesus. Don’t do that.” His feet rushed him up, moving towards the screens beeping consistently beside your head.

“I’m tired.” You mumble, feeling the weakness hit you.

“Sleep, someone’ll be here when you wake up again.” he presses a hand to your forehead, stroking the soft peach fuzz of your cheek. Frank takes a step away, mind already deciding how to word your brief lapse of lucidness in the group chat. He made it two paces before he hears you whimper. He turns back to face you, ready to lull you back to sleep. The next sound you make stops his plea. A name slips from your mouth, its quiet. He almost doesn’t hear it at first.

“Jack”

In the next few episodes of you being awake, you were visited by different colleagues and physicians. Dana spoke about her girls, the oldest going to college in the fall. Cassie explained that Harrison aced a spelling test he’d been worried about. All slowly metaphorically healing your broken heart. The two people who had blamed themselves for your predicament had yet to venture up to the 5th floor. Jack hadn’t returned, unable to potentially look you in the eye and not tell you what he had planned. He was having to wait for all the legal paperwork to be sorted, something his solicitor said could take months to do. Time was not on your side, so Jack remained deep in the basement, away from the disappointment he could bring you.

The senior resident had wanted to come up every time she’d passed the elevator, however the nagging anxiety and guilt prevented her from pressing the call button.

“Is anybody up with her right now?” Samira asks, directing her question at the resident stood beside her charting computer. They were both mid deep into a busy 12 hour shift.

“I think Ellis is up with her but she’s starting an extra few hours soon, so if you want to go see her, you can.” Cassie answers, Samira nodding in response, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. “You haven’t seen her yet, have you?”

“I don’t want to make her worse if she wakes up whilst I’m there. I’m one of the reasons she’s up there.” Samira’s eyes fell to her hands, watching as she subconsciously began wringing them together.

“That’s not what happened, Samira.” Cassie tries to argue.

“She saw me and Jack getting close. It sent her over the edge.”

“There’s nothing actually going on there, is there?” Cassie already knows the answer. She’d seen how devastated Jack had been since you’d admitted. How he’d changed completely. His attitude in the ED had switched. He was blunt, snapping at people unnecessarily, accusing them of wasting time when they could be helping patients on little things that didn’t use to bother him.

“You know there isn’t and hasn’t ever been. He’s been in love with her since she started. It just took him years to actually get the balls to ask her out. I’ve never seen him happier than when they were together.” She stands, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair. “Besides, he’s not my type at all.” She shoves the hoodie on, picking up her phone and stethoscope from the desk before taking herself off towards the lift.

When you wake up again nearly 17 hours after the last, a person you didn’t expect was sat in the chair beside you.

“Hey,” you mumble against the plastic mask. She peers up from the book she was reading, hands dropping the receipt back in, acting as a page marker.

“Hey,” she mimicked. You took a moment to take in her appearance. She was clearly over halfway through her shift, baby hairs sticking out of her ponytail and a deep shade of darkness surrounding her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I had a heart attack,” it comes out as a joke, a small laugh filling the room. Samira lets out a quiet giggle, her head falling towards her lap.

“Well, technically you had a cardiac arrest, not a heart attack. Come on, you’re a doctor. You know the difference.” You scoff at her comment, watching as the anxiety flooded her body. A deafening silence appears.

“Samira.”

“I’m sorry.”

You both speak after a minute.

“Samira, you don’t need to apologise.”

“I do. I feel like I need to do a lot more. But it’s a start. I just want to tell you that there is nothing going on with Jack and I. There never has been and never will be. I can promise you that.” You turn away from her face, gaze landing on the soft lilac blanket Victoria had brought you not longer after you’d arrived. “When you-“ she cut herself off. “What you saw that day was him telling me that he’d finally felt that he was in a good enough place to be ready to talk to you again. To tell you everything that had been going on in that big head of his. I know that he went about this all in the completely wrong way but I was proud of him in that moment, I’d seen him struggle over the years. I’m sorry the way it came across and what it lead to. If I could do more to fix this, I would in an instant.” You took her shaking hand, enclosing yours tight around it, noticing the dull ache already forming. “I

“Samira. I don’t blame you and I don’t think I ever will.” She took a deep breath, clearly letting out something that has been sitting on her chest.

“I don’t think you realise how long I’ve been waiting to hear that. I’ve been avoiding coming to speak to you because I wasn’t sure how you would feel and if you would resent me.”

“We’ve been through so many years of shit, I could never hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate Jack either. He was doing this to be a better man. For you and your future.” your lips pressed into a thin line, attempting to digest her words.

“I don’t think I could ever hate him, even if I really wanted to.”

The days pass slowly and long. You’re asleep more than awake, unable to deal with the constant discomfort lingering across your torso. The limited time you are conscious, you’re sat up, slowly typing on your laptop. You were drafting letters. Just in cases.

You’d completed the all but one of them, in your opinion the most important one.

His name sat at the top of the document, followed by the stark white of the blank page. How could you put everything you’ve ever felt for him into a collection of words. He was your everything. He still was. Even though his actions caused your pain, you couldn’t help but still want him. Your hands hover over the keys, urging your brain to let your fingers type something, anything. You couldn’t bear leaving the world and Jack not knowing that you’d forgiven him long before.

“Come on,” you beg. “I can’t leave him with nothing.”

“Can’t leave who with nothing?” Michael’s voice causes you to look up, immediately slamming the laptop shut. He’s in his scrubs, backpack slung across his shoulder. Tiredness hanging from him from the shift he’d finished.

“No one,” you feign innocence. The apple he was holding crunched as he bit into it, juice spraying against his hoodie. Your mouth salivated at the sight. “Fancy giving me some of your apple?” you attempt to divert the conversation.

“Yes,” he took a step towards you, holding the fruit out in front of him, making it just beyond your reach. “If you tell me what you were doing?”

“It’s not important. Please give me something that’s not beige hospital food.” You go to grab it, a wince coming out when a strain pulls across your chest.

“Please be careful.” He drops the apple into your open palms, taking a place in the chair beside you. “Now, I will find out what you’re hiding. Even if I sneak in later when you’re sleeping.” He lets out a low chuckle, causing you to give him an annoyed expression. “How are you feeling?” He knows the answer already. In every time he’d come to visit, he’d seen the pained looks you tried to hide, the way your hands subconsciously rubbed gently over your heart, urging the discomfort to soften.

“It’s getting worse.” there are tears in your eyes when you finally reply, the half bitten apple resting in your grip.

His body is quick to lean forward, already reaching for you “Have you told Regina?” You shook your head.

“What’s the point? I’m not going to make it to get the transplant. And I can’t survive on this for the rest of my short life.” You refer to the tubing running out of the collar of your gown. His fists clenched tight against the lilac blanket they were resting on.

“Don’t say that. Fucking hell. Please don’t say that.” he murmured. You could see the anger flooding his face. His jaw had clenched, cheeks flushed a deeper red.

“I’m sorry, Michael but who the fuck we are kidding? I’m not getting stronger and the sooner you all realise that the better. The faster you’ll all move on.”

“How the fuck can you say that?” He stands, throwing his arms in the air for dramatic effect. His eyes flit between yours and the closed technology. “Are you writing goodbye notes? Is that why you didn’t want me to know?” You don’t reply, guilty at the act of being caught out. He scoffs loudly, hands running over his thick beard. You could feel the subtle increase in your heart rate, something the monitor had picked up also.

“I don’t have the energy to say everything I want to but if I can at least put it down somewhere. I only have one more to do.” He could tell immediately who was left.

“Do you think he deserves one?” His question left you speechless.

“How the fuck can you say that? He is the love of my life, Michael. He is and always will be. I will love him until my body gives out. However short that may be.”

“Not if he has his way,” he mumbles under his breath, turning to face the dark sky through the window.

“What did you just say?” he slowly spins, regret already starting.

“Just ignore me. I did-“

“Fucking say it!” You now yell, hands planted against the mattress to help manoeuvre yourself off the bed. Michael races to your side, attempting to halt your actions. “What is he doing?”

“I’m not telling you. That’s his business.” he tries to backtrack, going to grab your shoulders to push you back. You shove his arms away, feet planting flat against the cold tiled floor. You ignore the agony erupting throughout your body and the sound of the machines now aggressively sounding.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Michael. I’m going to find him.”

“You need to stay in bed. I’ll go get him for you.” He pleads. You grab the middle of the IV pole, bracing yourself against it as you take a step for the first time in over two weeks. Using your skills as a doctor, you began pulling the ECG monitors off your body. “Fucking stop this.”

“I’m going to find him. If you won’t tell me what he’s got planned, then I’ll find out straight from him.”

“He’s gonna fucking kill himself!” you stop in your path to the door, stumbling over your socked feet. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “I found some emails from a solicitor about changing his will. He’s made a direct order for his heart to go to you upon the event of his death. I’m sorry.”

Instead of turning to face him as he expects, you resume your actions, taking slow strides out to the corridor.

“You need to get back in bed, you’re not healthy enough for this.” he trails behind, arms caging themselves around you. “I’ll go find him.”

“He won’t come up here. I need to see him. Please.” he can hear the desperation in your voice. He swears he can hear your heart breaking with every step you take. You make it undisturbed to the waiting room before a nurse at the reception desk intercepts you.

“What the hell are you doing?” She can see how strained you are against the pole. Your breathing had worsened so badly, a crackle could be heard deep in each movement of your chest.

“I have to speak to him. Tell him not to do this.” You reach the elevator, body slouching against the cold wall as you slowly press the button.

“You need to get back to your room or I will carry you there.” Michael demands, arms already reaching for the back of your legs.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Michael Robinavitch. If you only do one more thing for me whilst I’m here, let me do this.” your eyes move to his. He takes in your desperate expression, taking in a deep breath of his own. “Please”

“Go find Dr Paulson, she’ll want to know whats happened. I’ll take her back.” he directs to the nurse, who follows his instructions and heads in the opposite direction. Tears spring in your eyes again at his betrayal, head resting against the metal door in exhaustion.

“You have 2 minutes from when we get in this elevator, whether we see him or not. I will be timing.” he goes to aggressively push the call button again. You let out a weak smile, grateful for his loyalty.

“Michael, can you go get my laptop? I want to show him something when we find him.” He’s hesitant to leave you alone. He nods once, beginning a sprint back down the corridor towards your room. The elevator arrives and you stagger in, gripping the hand rests for balance.

“Hold the doors! I’m coming!” He yells, racing back towards you. In a split second, you press a button. Michael watches as the doors close in front of him. “Fuck.” he takes off towards the emergency stairs.

“Come on,” you speak aloud, free hand resting against your heart. “Please just give me a bit more time. I need to see him. I need to tell him I love him.” You watch as the red numbers decrease before it settles on ‘A’. You can hear the noise of the ED before the doors had even opened. The trauma room to your right as you stepped out, were filled with your colleagues, actively working to save someones life. Your legs take you further towards the chaos, arms stumbling around to find anything else to help you balance.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” John’s voice appears beside you, apparently having noticed your appearance instantly, hands gripping yours as your gaze remained stuck inside the room. He follows your line of sight, straight to his fellow attending.

Jack is deep into someones chest cavity, gloved hands covered in blood, barking orders at the people around him. “I need to see him.” it comes out as a whisper. Speaking louder would take energy you no longer have. It seemed to be a miracle you were still standing.

“I’m going to assume you haven’t been cleared to be out of bed so I’m going to take you back up now.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Michael emerged from the stairwell, panting and slightly rouge in the face.

“Ok, so I’m definitely right. Let’s get you back.” They both go to take your side, both noticing the way you had begun swaying with dizziness. Michael’s raised voice had alerted people to the situation happening meters away. Crus and Nazely both peer across the room, through the glass doors at the three of you. The latter gasps, causing Jack to look up.

His movements falter at the sight of your paling form being held up by his two closest friends. He can already see the exhaustion hanging off you, the way the organ that was there to keep your body working was actively fighting against you.

“Crus.” he manages to get out. His senior resident understands immediately, replacing his hands with Jack’s, continuing with the procedure. He sees your eyes fall to him, a small smile now gracing your face. The smile that could shake the world if you let it. He gets three steps across the tiles before your eyes flutter close, just catching a glimpse of them rolling back. You go limp, entire weight now shifting towards John. He’s moving before he can even think.

“No.” the door slams open and he’s on the floor instantly, taking your now unconscious figure into his arms. “You’re not supposed to do this. I’m supposed to go first. Please don’t do this.”

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Jack Abbot sat at the furthest spot from them, legs spread, head thrown between them, eyes fixed on the same spot on the floor. “Paulson put in a bypass graft and a LVAD to see if that will help it improve but if it doesn’t, she’s going to need to be put on the transplant list.” 

“Fuck.” he replied, running his hand over his face. “How long is she going to be monitored?”

“It’s going to be continuous but no longer than a week. It’s going to be so touch and go with everything over the next few days.”

The surgeon continued to explain what occurred in the OR, how the muscle walls of your left ventricle were so malformed that everyone in the room were surprised you hadn’t arrested multiple times before today. She says what’s she needs to before returning back to her work, leaving people to stew in the news they’d been given.

Michael stared at the white circular clock on the wall in front of him. The surgery had lasted nearly 5 hours. The day shift had ended nearly 2 hours ago but nobody could leave until they’d had an update on you. So they’d all clambered into the lifts after hand over, ridden it up 5 floors before taking refuge on the pattern green leather chairs. 

“I will update everyone in the group chat but everyone go home. It’s been a long day.” he clapped a hand against Langdon’s shoulder, watching as people slowly stood. He keeps his eyes on his friend, noticing how he hadn’t moved since they’d joined him on the chairs hours before. Michael waved a hand goodbye as people filtered down the corridor towards the lifts. He began closing the distance, shoving his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodie. His legs lower beside him, leaning  against the chair, laying his head on the backrest. 

“I assume you heard Garcia.” he asks. 

Jack doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even move or acknowledge that Michael was even there. 

“Jack.” he tries again. Silence follows. Michael picks his head up, looking to his right. He can see where Jack had picked at the skin on his fingers, a habit he knew only came out in dire situations. “She’s going to be taken up to cardiology soon so you’re going to have to move at some point.” He adds, using his knee to nudge Jack’s.

“It’s my fault.” Michael’s eyebrows raise at the raspiness of the voice. Jack cranes his neck, turning to face beside him but still remaining directed at the floor. This is the first time Michael had looked at his face properly since you’d been taken up to the surgical floor. His eyes were swollen, bloodshot and red. He could see where the tears had dried against his cheeks. 

“You can’t know that-“ 

“You fucking heard Garcia! She didn’t have any pains before I-“ he cut himself off. “I fucking broke her heart.” A deep sob wrecks his train of thought. He stands, beginning to pace in front of his colleague. “What if she fucking dies, Robby? What if I fucking killed her?” 

Michael didn’t know how to respond to the questions.  Didn’t know how to comfort or reassure him. What would happen if you didn’t make it?

“Right now she is ok and that is what we need to be thinking about. The next few days will tell us everything, Jack. I can’t have you getting back into that place again. Even though the past you two have, she needs you there.”

“But I’m the one who put her in this situation.” He stops his movements, stopping in front of the large window. “How can I sit there next to her and hold her hand and wish her better when I was the one who caused all this pain and heartache?” 

The Pittsburgh skyline looked different from this view. From further down that he would usually see it, Jack could barely see the Fort Duquesne bridge from where he stood.  

“You do it because you love her. I know you still do.” 

“Of course, I do. I will always love her. But she deserves better.” he spins on his boots, gently resting against the white shelf below the glass. 

“She wants you, Jack. Every good and bad part.” 

At first, he refuses to go see you. He takes the elevator back down to basement to start his shift. Lena had tried to convince him to take the night off. To go home. To speak to his therapist. Anything. He’d just ignored her requests, stalking off towards South 19 to treat a child with a persistent cough. The remainder of the staff took turns keeping an eye on him. Crus had brought him a coffee, sensing the tiredness lurking inside. John had taken over a few of his cases, allowing Jack to take a short breather at the central station to relieve some of the pressure on his prosthetic. In a strange coincidence, chairs had been reasonably calm for the majority of the you the night. Exactly what Jack didn’t want. He craved the chaos to keep him collected and concentrating on something other than the thought of you 6 floors up with a machine keeping you alive. 

He manages to keep it together for the remainder of his shift. That is until Nazely, sweet innocent first year Nazely, approaches him near the lockers. Jack shifts as he grabs his backpack out. 

“Dr Abbot. I’m really sorry to hear about what happened.” her arm goes to gently rest against his, a gentle smile on her lips. “I know I haven’t been on this rotation for long but she’s always been the one I’ve gone to since being here, so I know she’ll be ok. Because she’s a fighter and she’s brave. If anyone can pull through it, she can.” She expects him to quietly thank her before walking away. Instead, he pulls her tightly into a hug. Arms wrapped around her waist and his head buried into her black scrub top. She can feel the tears wetting her shoulders and the way his body is shaking. Her eyes widen at the action, slowly reciprocating the embrace, her own arms reaching around his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he stumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. 

“Please don’t apologise for your feelings, Dr Abbot.” her hands begin gently rubbing up and down in comfort. She allows him to pull away first, giving another small smile before reaching into her pocket to pull out a packet of tissues. He takes one silently, giving the pack back to her and bringing it up to his cheeks. 

He didn’t know why it felt easier to open up to her than his other colleagues. Maybe it was the fact that they hadn’t know each other for an extended period of time and she’d didn’t know of his traumatic past. She’d obviously heard stories from other people but was safe from the bad parts. 

“I’m in the Night Crawlers group chat if you ever want to talk. You can get my number from there. Please don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to, I just want you to know its there if you need it.” She nods to him as she grabs her tote, swinging it on her shoulder before walking towards central and the exit. 

He stands in the same spot for a further 7 minutes, watching as his colleagues open their lockers, take out their personal items, close the door and saunter out like he isn’t dying inside. 

Jack eventually takes himself up to the cardiology floor 26 hours later. He passes Dr Regina Paulson, the physician in charge of your care whilst you’re at the hospital. She gives him a tight smile before returning to her work. The floor smelt better than the ED. It lacked the antiseptic and strong cleaning fluid scent he was used to. He pads down the corridor, where he knows your room is. Dana, who had already come to see you, told him specifically where you were, for when he got his head of out his ass and finally came to visit. 

The room where you were residing was tucked in the corner of the ward, with a large window facing the Allegheny River. He could hear the sound of the multiple machines before he’d even stepped over the threshold. 

In all the years he’d lived, all the trauma and war he’d been through. It could have never prepared him for the sight of you laying still on the bed. You were in the typical hospital gown, scratchy white blanket sheet combination pulled up towards your torso.  A number of wires and tubes poked out from underneath the large printed fabric. Your hair was pulled back away from the bipap mask situated on your face, tied into a rough ponytail, no doubt thanks to one of the many female colleagues that had come to see you. 

You seemed smaller than he remembered. 

“Hi darling,” he started, hand immediately coming up to cover the sob that escaped his lips. “I don’t know if you’d even want me to be here. I just had to come and apologise. It’s the only thing I can do right now.” his feet take him over to the side of your bed. He hesitantly takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth to press a gentle kiss against your palm. 

“I took a look at your chart and your ultrasounds. I knew that I-“ he gulps, moving your hand to rest against his cheek. “It started as takotsubo cardiomyopathy. Broken heart syndrome. I literally and figuratively broke your heart when I left that night. And I’ve regretted it ever since. I thought I was helping you by leaving. I was going back down a dark path again and I didn’t want you to follow me into it. Now I realise I’ve made it so much worse. I’ve hurt you beyond repair. And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.” 

He eventually takes a seat in the leather chair beside you, using the brief respite to pull his metal limb off, placing it against the wooden leg. Hand still holding yours, he keeps his line of sight on the monitors reading your vitals. Searching for any flicker of an issue. 

“It’s not working, Jack.” his head snaps to the sliding door. Dr Paulson is stood with her hands clutching a similar tablet they use downstairs, however hers is clearly a new version. His eyes flick from hers to your motionless frame. “I know we said a week but we can already tell the graft is probably making it worse.” 

“What are you doing about it?” Jack’s voice wobbles. He takes his lower lips in his teeth to prevent the tears from falling. Regina takes a deep breath before moving to the other side of you, fiddling with the cables even though they didn’t need it. 

“We’re going to continue with the LVAD, but at this point, she will need a transplant. The LVAD will keep her heart functioning but it will probably never be at its best again.”

“We both know the transplant list is thousands long, it could be nearly a year before she even gets a chance at one!” Jack stands, anger now flowing through him. 

“I know that, Jack.” she holds her hands up in defence. “I’m going to try and contact a few people to get her up the list but right now there is not a lot we can actually do.” 

“That’s bullshit! She’s given this hospital nearly a decade of her life and this is how she is repaid.” 

“You don’t get to use that tone with me Jack Abbot. Not when multiple people from this hospital spent hours saving her life. Including your close friends.” She takes her leave, swiftly leaving the conversation as quickly as she entered. 

“You’ve got to keep going, sweetheart. If not for my sake then everyone else’s downstairs who loves you. I may have been the one to break your heart but they’re going to be the ones who are going to put it back together again. Their love will help heal you but you have to want to live. I am so grateful to have been in your life and I will never hate you if you don’t want me in your future. I’ve know how I can fix this now. It’s how I’m going to show you how much I love you and how you are everything to me. How you always will be.” 

Michael’s hands hover over the manila a4 envelope in front of him. He’d joined Jack in your previously shared home a few days later to pick up a various amount of things. Comfortable clothes for you when or if you woke up. Important documents. Jack had taken change of finding the majority of things. He knew where everything was. He’d tasked Michael with finding the storage boxes filled with the paperwork needed. That’s how he came to be in your home office. He knew Jack had been occasionally staying at the house. He knew he was taking comfort in the presence of your home even when he didn’t have a right to. 

“What the fuck?” he picked up the accompanying email print out, reading the exchange between Jack and Taylor Brown, a solicitor located in Pittsburgh.  Skimming through the words, he caught a number of concerning things. Without thinking, he picked up the envelope. 

He hesitated before opening it—not out of respect, exactly, but because the moment felt like it might divide things into before and after.

Inside was a will. 

“Jack, what the fuck are you thinking of doing?” He storms into the bedroom, catching Jack as he engulfs one of your sweatshirts to his face. His eyes twitch between Michael’s and the white paper held tight in his hand. 

“What are you doing with that?” Jack immediately rushes towards him, attempting to grab the item. Michael, already anticipating that he would do that, took a large step back, watching as he stumbled through the air. 

“I’m going to ask you again Jack. What are you going to do? Because this makes me think you’ve clearly planned everything out.”  Jack’s face falls to the fall, hands clenching at his sides. He didn’t think he’d have to have this conversation. That he’d tell everyone why he was going to do what he did in the letters he was writing next to your bedside. 

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” Michael scoffed at his answer, throwing the paperwork to the ground in anger. “I’m fixing what I broke.” 

“How the fuck can you think this will fix anything Jack?” 

“I’ve done the research. It will work-“

“You don’t know that!” 

“It’s worth a shot.” Jack shrugged. “I owe her that.” 

 “Jack, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” He took a seat on the bed, hands fiddling with the large duffel bag he’d begun to pack. “This is not the answer.”

“I have to fix this, Michael! This is how I can do it.”

“Fucking directed deceased organ donation. A last will and testament stating that on the event of your death, your heart will go to her.” 

“She’s always had it. Ever since I saw her all those years ago.” Jack’s gaze falls to the photo frame on the bedside table. You were smiling brightly back at him, the Parisian sunset faded in the background. It had sat on his side for the entire time you’d lived together and when he left, it was the first thing he’d packed. He picks up the metal frame, placing a gentle kiss against the glass. “Guess it won’t just be metaphorically anymore.”

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You stepped into the hallway, heart faltering at the way he was carrying himself. 

“My love, I’ve laid out some stuff for you, why don’t you go have a shower whilst I finish getting breakfast ready?” He didn’t reply, just continued staring up at the ceiling. 

“I think I need to step back from this. From us.” Those statements caused the first pang, like an invisible hand reaching into your chest and gripping your heart tightly. You stumbled back, gripping onto the doorframe. Your actions caused the vase he’d got you on your first anniversary to clamber to the floor, glass splintering around your bare feet. He’d immediately looked towards the sound, eyes flittering from yours, which were now filled with tears to the blood now erupting from your skin, small shards sticking out. 

“Shit-“ he walked towards you. You took another step away, wincing as the glass crunched under your soles. “Stop moving.” he pleaded. He could see the way your chin had begun to tremble, the way you were trying to hold it all in. 

“I think you should leave.” you managed to spit out. 

“Please, sweetheart. Let me help you clean up.” He went to reach for you again but you stood your ground.

“I’m a doctor, Jack. I know how to clean myself up.” You turned the best you could, gently staggering over the broken vase into the kitchen, a trail of crimson following behind you. Every step you took caused a sting to flood over you. You could hear him following you, the glass nothing against his combat boots. 

“I want to talk. I don’t want this to be like this. I-“

“Like what?” You took a seat at the breakfast bar, bringing one of your feet into your lap the best you could. “You have clearly thought about this a lot and have already decided what you wanted. So why bother?” He took it upon himself to reach into the medicine cabinet, pulling out all the necessary equipment. 

“I just want a break. I don’t want to be in a relationship right now. I can’t give you what you deserve.” He hands over the kit. You snatch it away, beginning to lay it out against the granite side. 

“So after two and a half years you’re just done?” 

“Things have changed.” he sighed. You ignore him, choosing to don the latex gloves and start cleaning the wounds that littered your skin. He watches you flinch as the antiseptic brushes over the cuts. He wants to help, wants to take over and give you all the love and care you deserve. But he knows he’s not in a place to. Not permanently. 

He’d silently observed you wrap the bandages over your feet, taking the plush pink socks he’d dug out of the clean washing basket in the laundry room. You hadn’t said anything as you gently got down from the bar stool, reaching for the dustpan and brush to begin sweeping the broken glass. He’d chosen to leave you to it, going to the bedroom to sort out the bag he didn’t want to pack. He could hear your sobs, his heart breaking at the sound. He knew he was doing this for you. He needed help. He needed to be better for you, free from the terrors of his past that plagued his mind. That meant letting you go. Maybe the universe would bring you back together again when he was in a more solid place. 

“I’m staying at Michael’s. If you need anything.” He mumbles, bag straps tight in his grasp. You were sat on the couch, staring at the photo frame that sat above the fireplace. The fireplace that made you want to buy the place when you first discussed living together nearly a year ago. Dana had ordered a blown up version of your favourite photo of the two of you. You’d been at some medical gala not long after you got together. You were looking towards the camera, however Jack’s face was turned towards you, love and adoration flooding his eyes. 

When you didn’t acknowledge him again, he hesitantly took a step towards your side, pressing a gentle kiss into the soft curls you’d done earlier that night. You were still in the soft satin skirt you’d put on especially for him, however it was now creased and crumpled. His action caused the tears to begin falling again, shoulders shaking as the sobs took over. 

“Please get out.” you begged, clutching against your chest as it ached. He obliged, grabbing his keys he’d dropped earlier before quietly shutting the door behind him. 

That was 8 weeks ago. The pain had persisted. You were a senior resident and had been for years. You knew the red flags your body was presenting but you didn’t have the energy to give it space in your mind. He’d kept the distance and you’d respected it. Limiting your interactions at work. Switching to the day shift much to the chagrin of Michael Robinavitch, who was trying to stay out of the situation the best he could.

Parker had called out, an issue with a family member she needed to sort out, leading to Dana asking if you were free to work a double or at least until they could call someone else to cover. You’d hesitantly agreed, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest as you prepared to work with Jack for more than 20 minutes. 

You’d done well, remaining professional during assessments and always ensuring there was at least one other person in your conversation. However at hour 18 of your shift, you’d crumbled.  Your eyes gazed over the department, stopping on the two figures stood by the scrub machine. They were deep in conversation, head thrown back in laughter. The pain erupting across your chest deepened. The night shift attending and the day shift senior resident looked as natural as anything. Her hand rested against his bicep, his lingering just beside her  hip. You could see even from your position nearly 10 metres away that she was slowly clenching her fingers around his flesh. If he was bothered, he didn’t make it known. 

You tried to tear away from the display, returning your attention to the tablet in your grasp. The 45 year old female presenting with severe abdominal cramping had been discharged nearly 12 minutes before. A simple case that needed a simple chart, however your brain could not do its job. Instead running a hundred miles an hour at the sight of the love of your life and the girl everyone thought he wouldve ended up with  getting chummy . 

“Sweetheart, you don’t look the best. You feeling ok?” Dana’s shoulder gently nudged yours, already reaching up to rest her palm against your forehead. “You look a bit pale.” She moves her hand down to feel your cheeks, before returning it back down to her side. 

“I’m fine.” you mumbled, trying to block the spreading agony. “I just need a minute.” Her face fell into a softened expression, sliding the device across the desk towards herself. 

“Go take a break, you clearly need it.” You look up to observe the cause of your discomfort, noticing they had taken a step closer to one another, torsos only inches away from each other. 

“Dana,” the tears had formed quickly. She followed your line of sight towards Jack and Samira, an angry huff leaving her lips. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” she muttered, throwing her arm around your back, beginning to lead you away. You made it to an empty room across the floor without drawing attention to the mascara running down your face. “You’re going to stay in here until I say so. Got it?” you nod at her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Thank you,” you sniffed, accepting the tissue box she’d pulled from the inventory drawer. “I’m just being dramatic. I’ll be fine in a bit.”

“I know you will,” she patted your knee, giving you a quick wink. “I’ll try and snag a sandwich on the way back to you. No tuna, right?” 

You’d sat in your own thoughts for another 10 minutes before you realised Dana had probably got side tracked. The heaviness on your chest had increased, your pulse racing and you swear you could feel the way your heart was beating in your ears. You’d been tempted to hook yourself up to the EKG machine that had been left in after the last patient had been discharged. You’d reached for the electrodes when a loud crash sounded behind the closed curtain. You stood just as  wave of dizziness hits, and you can feel the sweat dripping down your face despite the cool air of the ED. You sway, gripping the nearest surface, fighting the urge to collapse. Your stomach churned violently, and a nauseous panic began rising in your throat. Time stretched. Each second a fight. Each breath a battle. 

You grasp for the blue scratchy fabric separating you from the chaos of your workplace. It gives, revealing everyone going about as normal. You can vaguely make out a number of your colleagues, however your vision is going as quickly as your balance. The pain is no longer just in your chest, you can feel it everywhere. Your body was screaming, and in that moment, you’d never felt more desperate and utterly powerless at the same time. 

Langdon notices you first. You’re clutching the sliding door 10 metres away, figure hunched tight towards the metal. He taps Mel’s shoulder, getting her attention before sprinting over towards you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking you up and down for injuries. You can’t catch your breath enough to reply, mustering up just enough energy to snatch the fabric of your scrubs that sat against your chest. He doesn’t even think before he throws his arms under your knees, lifting you up onto his torso and spinning on his feet. “Dana, I need a trauma room!” he yelled, running towards the desired room. His raised voice alerting numerous other people to the situation. 

“Trauma 1 is open!” she’s already stepping along side him, watching as he lowered you onto the gurney. Hands instantly reach towards you, clipping various devices to your paling body. 

“I want an EKG now.” Langdon demands, shears heavy in his hands as he cuts up through your black scrub top. He spoke a silent apology to you, continuing to slice through the lace middle of your grey bra, leaving your chest completely bare to your colleagues. 

“BP is 179 over 102, O2 is 89% and heart rate 112.” You can hear Princess relaying your vitals. You can barely focus, your thoughts scattered, racing between fear and confusion.

“She’s been having chest pains for weeks. She’s been trying to hide them but I can see it in her face. It’s ever since-“ Dana’s voice trails off at the body now stood in the doorway. 

“EKG reads a STEMI.” The rest of the room continues. 

“Ok, aspirin and heparin now. It’s going to need a PCI. Someone call Cardiology.” 

Jack’s gaze falls to your shaking frame, watching as his colleagues work above you. He hears you gasping through the oxygen masks. Mel is already beginning to insert the tube in your arm for the treatment. 

“Abbot, you can’t be in here if you’re going to be biased.” Robby’s voice cuts over the noise of the machines as he takes over from his resident. Jack hadn’t even noticed he’d come past him. Jack’s eyes flicker up to his friend’s, wincing when he’s already looking directly at him. 

“She’s-“ he mumbles, hands getting sweaty under the grip of his cargos. “Is she going to-“ his words get caught in his throat. 

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robby nods. 

A loud continuous beep rings out, flooding the room with anxiety. 

“Asystole!” Princess yells. Frank doesn’t wait for a command, immediately locking his hands and positioning them over your bare chest, pumping up and down. 

“Fuck,” Jack mutters, his body taking a step towards the scene. 

“Get him out of here.” Robby yells to anyone who would listen. Jack feels Dana’s grip on his arms,  pulling him backwards. Her quiet words of attempted comfort go in one ear and out the other, he couldn’t care for what she was saying. His mind fills with the sound of your ribs cracking under his colleagues hands as he attempts to get your heart working again. 

“Thank you so much. I think I would have cried if I’d dropped that.” you breathe, following him up the last few steps to the third floor hall. 

“That’s alright. Gotta help out our neighbours, even when they’ve only just moved in.” he moves to the side, allowing you to lead the way towards your new apartment. You pad down the hallway before placing your whole body against the door, pushing it open. You’d already discovered that it took a bit of persuasion to unlock it. “You need anymore help? I’m free for a few hours.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” you go for the water bottle you’d left on the kitchen island, taking a large swig to quench your continuing thirst over the gorgeous man offering up his help. “I wouldn’t know how to pay you back for helping.” 

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” his tone causes you to lock eyes with him, noticing he was now smirking. You tilt your head in suggestive confusion. “Pizza. You can order pizza for us when we’re done.” he answered. You nod, teeth going to chew on your bottom lip.

“Right,’ choosing to ignore the way he is standing smugly with his hands shoved into his reasonably tight grey sweatpants. He trails behind as you begin the descent back to the moving van you’d hired. You’d managed to do the majority of it before he’d assisted, paying extra to get the movers to bring up the larger items. 

Within an hour, you’d managed to clear the back of the van, return it back to the hire place and were now lounging against the blue couch, both holding a room temperature bottle of beer. By the time we got everything inside, our arms were sore. We’d collapsed almost instantly once the last box was set down. You’d spent the entire time  walking up and down the stairs, chatting and learning more about each other. His name was Jack Abbot, he was a night attending at PTMC. He’d lived in the building for nearly 8 years after his wife died. His afternoon plans were going to the gym, which he stated was no longer necessary after the cardio he’d done with helping you move. 

Boxes were now scattered around your apartment, mattress shoved on the floor of your bedroom. Bed frame resting against the wall below the window, awaiting its assembling. 

“How did you burn your arm?” he asked, using the neck of the glass to point to the puckered skin. 

“It’s a long story.” you huff, bringing the drink up to your lips, choosing to look out the large bay window, watching as the Pittsburgh sunset began streaming in. 

“I think I’ve made it clear I have nowhere else to be right now. Spill.” 

“Right,I’ll give you the cliff notes version.”you start. “My ex broke up with me for a personal trainer, he left me alone. I had a shit few days and basically didn’t sleep, got up super early and ended up pouring super hot coffee all over myself.” You neglected to mention the two encounters you’d had with Jack’s co-workers in the same time period. 

“That does seem very shit. I’m glad you seem to be doing better.” he clinked the rim of your bottle with his, smiling as he took a sip. 

“Yeah it’s great. I’ve been in a relationship for so many years and now I’m ready to just focus on myself and what I deserve.” You took a chance to stare at Jack’s face, noting him already looking at you, eyes immediately flickering down to your lips. “I’m ready to just do whatever the hell I want.” 

Jack’s hands grip onto your hair, gazing as you’re knelt in front of him. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so beautifully.” He throws his head against the wall of your empty bedroom, the action causing an echo. Your mouth is moving back and forth, hands clenched against his thick freckled thighs, knees burning at the ache against the hardwood floor. “You feel so fucking good.”

You grumble against him, using his distraction to hollow your cheeks. His hold tightens and you hear his breath quicken. 

The music you’d shoved on when you’d first settled onto the sofas plays from the living room, covering up the noises you were making as you continued your actions, his sounds further fueling the fire erupting from your own pleasure. 

You’d hadn’t even meant for this to happen. He’d explain he had the night off and offered to continue helping you move in, to put together your wardrobe and bed. To help settle you in further. To ease the work you needed to do.You’d joked that you would need more than pizza to repay him considering how generous he was being. 

“We could always be really cliche and fulfil a porno storyline.” he’d chuckled, reaching for the tool kit that sat on your bedside table. He’d turned when you hadn’t answered, now noticing a playful, knowing expression on your face. His hand hovered over the tools, eyes gazing over to your figure. You’d taken a step towards him, continuing until he was backed against the cream wall. 

“I mean. If you think it’s a suitable way of payment.” Your hands had reached for the waistband of his trousers, awaiting his permission. He smiled, wrapping his hand around your wrist and pushing them further down towards his pants. 

You took him out of your mouth with a pop, choosing to use your tongue to lick a long stripe along his length.

“God, you’re really good at that.” You whimper at his praise, taking him again. “And as much as I am loving this-“ his hands move to your shoulder, gently tapping against them to get your attention. “You’re gonna need to stop otherwise I’m going to finish in your mouth.” A pout falls on your face as you look up at him. 

He swears he could die happy in that moment. You mouth is covered in saliva and a mixture of himself, eyes blown wide, at his complete mercy. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Jack.” You slowly peel yourself off the ground, wincing at the stiffness of your knees. 

“It is when I want to look in your eyes when I do.” Your breath falters a bit at his words, immediately reaching for the hem of his black tee. 

“I didn’t think you could get more attractive but here we are.” He takes your compliment as his face erupts into a smug smirk. Allowing you to pull the shirt over the top of his head, it reveals a perfectly toned and further freckled chest. Your mouth falls open slightly, something Jack notices instantly. “Jesus Christ, Jack. You’re hiding that under scrubs?” He chuckles, hands finding your hips. You yelp when he picks you up easily, laying you down as gently as he could considering his sweatpants and boxers were hanging around his ankles. 

The burn didn’t look like much at first—just a thin, angry stripe across my forearm, bright red and already starting to sting in that deep, insistent way that makes it impossible to ignore.

“About an hour and a half ago. I was pleasantly surprised at how I was seen so quickly. In previous visits, I’ve waited hours before being brought back.”

“Yeah, it seems to be reasonably quiet tonight.” you winced at his words.

“Isn’t that bad luck to say that? Like saying Macbeth in a theatre.”

“I don’t believe in that superstitious nonsense. Can’t say the same for my colleagues though.” He continued examining the wound, turning my limb from side to side. “You’re also in luck, usually a nurse would do all the manual labour with this but tonight it will be me.”

“Wow, short wait time and a cute doctor cleaning me up, what did I do to deserve this special treatment?” you smile, watching as he begins preparing the necessary equipment needed.

“Wish I could say that it’s because you’re beautiful but unfortunately, our nurses are on strike for better working conditions.” he resumed his space on the chair, laying your arm against the now sterile and prepared mayo stand. “I shouldn’t really be telling you this stuff but honestly, I fully support them and couldn’t really give a crap what the people in the ivory towers have to say.”

“That’s very brave of you to say.” you observe as he gently dabs a damp gauze against the burn.

“What were you even doing making coffee at 4am?”

“Had a rough few days, my boyfriend broke up with me so I’ve had a bit of trouble with sleeping alone.It’s hard to get used to when you’ve had someone in your bed for the last 3 years. So when 4am came around, I decided to just cut my loses and start the day. Hence the clumsiness with the coffee pot.”

“Shit, that sucks. He seems like a idiot.” You let him work, watching as he lathers a clear gel over the mound before wrapping a bandage reasonably tight around it.

“Yeah he is.” You pause, taking the chance to stare at your doctors features. Deep brown eyes, thick brows, black hair that looked soft enough to run your fingers through. “Are we able to go back to you calling me beautiful?” You chime.

He ignores your question, attempting to hide the smirk that wants to appear on his face.

“Keep it covered and take over the counter medication if the pain gets too bad. If you see a blister once you’ve taken this off, don’t pop it. If there is any sign of infection, come back in.”

You take the opportunity to lean forward towards him.“If I come back in, will I get to be see by you again?” A smirk falls onto your lips. John lets out a chuckle, standing up and throwing his blue gloves into the red bin beside the wall.

“I can’t promise that our amazing nurses won’t be back by that point so no.”

“How about outside the ED then?”

“I’m sorry I don’t date patients. Did it once and it didn’t work out well.”

“Well, I’m going to be discharged in a minute so I won’t be your patient anymore. And you said so yourself, if I end up having to come back, I probably won’t be seen by you again. How about I promise to come back during the day so I definitely don’t break your rule?”

“You’re not going to let up on this, are you?” He sighs, running a hand through those gorgeous strands. You shook your head, gently leaning back on your good hand.

“Hey, I can’t help it that you’re attractive and besides, you’re the one who started it by giving me a very nice compliment and coming in here with those eyes and those hands.” Your comment causing him to fleck said hands, clenching into a fist.

“I get off in just under an hour. If you’re willing to wait, I’ll take you for breakfast. And my name is John.”

The sun is still rising when you leave the hospital, stepping in to John’s car. “I’d wish I’d dressed more appropriately for our first date.” He shifted the vehicle into drive, pulling out of the hospital car park. He let out a loud chuckle.

“Believe me, you look absolutely fine.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down from your face towards your slightly exposed chest.

“So where we going to breakfast?”

“You’ll see.” You don’t care to look out the window to try and piece together your destination, your gaze too transfixed on the grip he had on the steering wheel. “I can see you staring.”

“John, have you not realised that I am not subtle at all?”

“Oh no, I’ve got that.” You could see the cogs moving in his head, immediately hitting the indicator and changing the cars direction. He drives into the mainly empty Walmart parking lot, parking furthest away from the store’s entrance. You finally look around, trying to find any sign of a cafe or bakery.

“John, please tell me you’re not-“ the words get stuck in your throat. His hands hastily unclip his seatbelt, reaching over the console to take your face. His lips press to yours, tongue immediately teasing. You reciprocate, fingers fumbling with your own belt, giving you both a better angle.

“You keep talking and staring at my hands, wanna see what they can do?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer, shoving them down the front of your joggers, straight pass the now dampening fabric of your yellow briefs. You let out a moan, mouth opening wide, electing a chuckle to leave his. His hand began work, thumb pressing against your bundle of nerves, two fingers now shoved deep inside of you. You gasp, going to grip the collar of his scrub top, pulling him back closer.

You can feel yourself getting closer. It’s nearly there and you swear you can taste the satisfaction on your lips. Before you can get there, he stops, yanking his hand out of your trousers and bringing the soaked digits to his lips.

“You’re going to come with me even deeper inside you, got it?” he speaks before you can even get a word of protest out. “Get in the back now.” If you weren’t already making a puddle on his car seat, the dominance he was asserting would definitely do the trick.

You oblige, crawling though the gap between the front towards the back seats.

He opens his door, stepping out to move around the car towards the back. “I want you to ride me.” he commands, taking his place in the middle before shoving his scrub back down towards his thighs. You can already see how big he is. He notices your line of sight, choosing to stroke himself through the patterned boxers he was still wearing. “Don’t worry, it’ll fit baby.” You eagerly nod, copying his actions and yanking down the clothes covering your lower half.

He slowly pulls down his pants, allowing himself to spring free. His tip is already leaking against his stomach. You take the chance to straddle him, struggling with the positioning due to his thick spread thighs.

“You’ve been nursing that drink for a long time. And I think your phone is about to break with how hard you’re holding it” he quips, positioning himself on the red padded stool. Your attention slowly falls to the tall, older man now sat beside you. Michael takes a second to examine your face, eyes bright red, cheeks wet with tears. 

“I’m not going to be very good conversation if that’s what you came over for.” your voice breaks slightly at the end, teeth biting your bottom lip to stop the tears from falling. 

“Well, if it’s ok with you. I’m going to just sit here and if you want to talk, we can but there is no pressure.” You let a smile grace your face, hand reaching for your drink. You raise it to your lips, downing the remainder in one. Michael let’s out a laugh, chugging down his own. “Want another one?” he asks. 

“I will take a tequila if that’s ok.” Her head turns slightly, stretching towards the clack of the pool balls across the room, someone swearing loudly at their misfortune. 

“Even though I will probably regret it, I will join you.” 

He hollered down the bartender, ordering 4 top shelf shots for you both. 

“Damn, already spoiling me.” you giggle, taking hold of one of the glasses before holding it up. “To new friends.” 

“To new friends.” he joined, necking the white liquid back. “So you wanna talk about what’s got you stewing in a bar by yourself?” 

“My ex broke up with me. We’ve been together for 3 years and he tells me he’s leaving me for his personal trainer. I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Men are the worst. As a member of that gender, I can confirm.” He chuckles. 

“Well you’re beginning to be the exception right now. You’re basically the only guy who hasn’t tried to hit on me whilst I’ve been in here.” 

You’d been at the bar for nearly 2 hours, coming straight from your previously shared apartment. You’d come home to find the limited items your ex owned already had either packed up or missing completely. He was stood in the kitchen, placing the last thing in a large cardboard box. 

He’d confessed his infidelity, stated there was nothing that could change his mind and promptly left, leaving you alone in the silence of a place you once felt whole. You’d immediately reached for your phone and keys, crossing the threshold not longer after your supposed soulmate had done. 

The bar had say on a corner that looked reasonably ordinary in the daylight, but at night glowed like it had something to prove. 

“Well, I can’t deny you are a beautiful woman but I can read body language, and knew you needed something more than a chat up line.” 

“And I appreciate it. It’s making you more attractive.” Michael’s cheeks flushed a bright red, turning to face the rows of bottles in an effort to hide. “Don’t go shy on me now. I’ve been watching you since you came in and you’re oozing confidence.”

“Well, I kind of have to be in my profession.”

“What is it you do?” Michael hesitated before he spoke, trying to internally decide whether to be honest to the stranger. 

“I’m chief of emergency medicine at PTMC. Have been for nearly a decade now.” He placed the rim of the new drink he’d acquired to his lips, taking a small swig, wincing as the bitterness hit his tastebuds. 

“Wow, that’s an interesting career.”

“It’s certainly something. Have you been in Pittsburgh long?” 

“A while, moved here for my job about 8 years now I think.” You explain, providing your career in details you know he’ll forget by morning. “I realised I don’t actually know your name.”

“Michael,” he held his hand out, shaking yours tightly when you reciprocate. You give him yours, taking the opportunity to keep the contact he’d offered. He tilted his head slightly, gaze falling to your intertwined fingers. 

“I probably shouldn’t be doing this but do you want to get out of here? There is an incredible dessert place a block or two away and I know they’re open late.” 

You notice the way his face begins to process what you’d asked, mouth falling slightly from the smile he’d seem to permanently had. 

“I mean you don’t have to-“ you go to stand, grabbing your phone and planting both feet on the ground. Your balance stumbles slightly, a combination of the lack of movement in hours and the continuous alcoholic drinks you’d consumed since arriving. “I’m sorry.” You begin walking away from the bar. A hand catches your wrist, causing your head to whip around.

“I would love to get out of here with you. It just took me a second for my brain to process that at all of the very younger people in this bar, you want to leave with me.” 

“Michael, you’re the best looking person in here. This-“ you use the free hand he’s not gripping to gesture over his appearance. “does it for me a lot. Like you’re actually gorgeous.” 

“Well, I appreciate the compliment. So let’s go get some dessert, yeah?” he takes the opportunity to press his body against yours when he gets up from the stool, head dipping slightly to position his lips inches away from your own. “Could definitely use something sweet.” 

Your brain stops at his statement, feet remaining in place as he stalks towards the front door, only pausing when he notices you not following. He holds out his hand, gesturing for you to take it. You gulp loudly, reaching out to accept, allowing him to pull you out into the cold night air. 

You don’t make it to the desired location. He lead you to his car, pushing you against the door before connecting his lips with yours in a blinding kiss. 

“Fuck, Michael.” You whimper, head falling against the metal as his kisses continued down your neck. He chuckles against your skin, tongue skimming out to soften the spot. 

“Your place or mine?” he asks, hand tucking underneath of the hemline of your tee, gently rubbing circles on the plushness of your waist. 

“I do not give a shit but if I’m not naked beneath you in the next 20 minutes, I will be very disappointed.” 

“Well, sweetheart. Can’t have that.” His hand that had been tugging into your hair began traveling lower down your back till it reached the handle of the passenger door. “Get in.” he demands. 

As a man of his word, you’re back at his very tidy looking home within 12 minutes. It takes him another 3 to lead you to his bedroom, stripping the clothes you’d shoved on earlier that day off, throwing them across the room. His large calloused hands grasp your sides, chucking you against the very well made bed before dipping his head straight between your thighs. You throw your head back once again in pleasure, fingers extending to thread his brunette locks. Your hips arched, his beard hauling even more pleasure from your body. 

As you both began to feel the coil deep inside you winding, his grip on your legs tightened, pulling you flush against his face.

“Michael, don’t stop.” you could feel him grin, actions continuing as he eagerly pulled the orgasm from your body. He remained in the same position after you’d cum over his mouth and facial hair, gently lapping up the sweet nectar you’d given him. Your breath had began evening out, chest rattling as you attempted to regain some composure. “Jesus Christ.” 

He let out a laugh, standing to begin taking off his own clothes, using one hand to pull the olive green long sleeve off. “That good?” His chest puffed up slightly, the compliment going straight to his pants. 

“Take those jeans off and get your fucking ass here.” you beckon him over, leaning back on your elbows. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, feet planting on the cool floor. pressing your palms into the mattress, you forced yourself up, groans leaving your lips as the exertion took over. 

“what the hell are you doing?” jack immediately raced as quickly as he could to your frame, arms slipping round your waist to help you back down onto the bed. “you shouldn’t be doing this on your own.” 

“i was coming to see if you were still outside. i could hear dana ripping you a new one.”  

“yeah,” he dipped his head lower, eyes catching your bare legs. he’d noticed your attire when he’d first came in, an old tatty oversized tee, the word ARMY printed across the chest. “you’re wearing my shirt.” 

“yeah, robby bought a bunch of stuff from our home.” jacks heart jumped at your use of the word ‘our’. “would’ve asked you but it seems like you didn’t want to see me.” 

“it’s not that-“ he started, running his hands over his face.  “it’s not that i didn’t want to see you. i couldn’t. when you woke up and didn’t recognise me. it fucking broke my heart.”

“jack. how do you think i felt? to wake up in so much pain.” you could feel the tears coming from the back of your throat. “i’ve had to relearn my own fucking name.” you shouted, gripping the edge of the mattress. 

jack slinked into the chair opposite you, elbows falling to his knees as he shoved his hands through his salt and pepper hair. “i know i fucked up.”

“that’s an understatement jack. for the past week i have wanted nothing than to see you come up and actually talking me to about us. but now i don’t even know if i can stand to look at you. and that’s breaking my heart.” his hands immediately reached for yours, knees hitting the floor. 

“no sweetheart. please. i’m sorry.” he begged, head pressing into your lap. 

“jack.” your fingers began running through his strands, causing him to nuzzle further into your contact. “i can’t do this right now. my head is starting to hurt.”

“do you want me to go grab the doctor? i can get you some more painkillers.”

“no, it’s ok.” his gaze looks up to yours. “just no more shouting, please.” 

“i’m going to go.” he forces himself up, wincing at the pressure on his prosthetic. “i’m clearly making things worse for you.”

“jack wait.” he doesn’t stop as you expect him to. he just continues limping through the door, leaving you alone, streaks illuminating your cheeks.

“do i really have to go home today?” you groan, allowing dana’s hands shove the blue hoodie over your torso.  

“your results are good and your vitals are stable. there is no reason for you to stay in the hospital and use up a bed when you could be resting in the comfort of your own home” 

“but i don’t feel like i can relax there, dana.” your face fell into a pout as she stood in front of you. she sighed, passing you a pair of grey socks to put on. 

“he’s your husband, sweetheart. not a stranger.”

“he’s making me feel like one though. it doesn’t seem like he’s making an effort with me.”

“you have to remember that even though you’re the one with the scars, he has them too but just in here.” she rested her palm against your chest, right above your heart.” “i’ve known him for nearly 20 years. i saw him lose his first wife and never thought he’d do this again but then you came into his life. i finally saw him living again. i stopped worrying about him for once.”

you sat back on the bed, gently tugging at the cuffs of your jumper. 

“i feel like i’m always worrying about him,” you let out a breathless laugh. “i don’t want to lose him, dana.” 

“you won’t. he’s just scared. as you are. i genuinely don’t think he’s arrived as quickly as he did that day. i don’t even think you’d left the trauma 1 before he was running through the ambulance bay. he saw your blood over the floor. then he tried to help but robby refused to let him. jack kept screaming that he couldn’t go through this again.” she took a seat next to you, hands interlinking together on her lap. “the last thing he said before you went up to surgery was if you died, he would walk up to the roof and not come back down.” 

“fuck.” hot tears hit your cheeks, already reaching up with your sleeves to wipe them away. “dana, i love him more than anything. i just want my husband back.” 

“you’ve still got him. you just need to tell him.” 

jack’s frame stood in the doorway of your home. he was dressed in his usual tight black tee and cargo pants, a pair of combat boots completing the look. 

you jumped out the passenger side of dana’s car, bag pressed to your shoulder. your gaze caught his, his lips parting slightly as if to speak. 

“you gonna be ok, kid?” the nurse asked, placing the faded green duffel next to your feet. you gave her a nod, pulling her into a quick hug. 

“i’m ok. thank you for everything.” she pressed a kiss into your crown, legs taking her back to the drivers seat before pulling off the kerb. 

jack took a hesitant step towards you, arms already going to reach for the bags. 

“stop.” you spoke. his motions stopped, head snapping up to look directly at you once again. “i missed you.” 

“you shouldn’t have. i’ve been a fucking awful husband recently.” 

“you’ve been hurt too, jack. i’m sorry that i put you through that.” at your words, he immediately pulled you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around your waist. 

“i’m so fucking sorry.” a sob escaped his chest, rattling your own. “i understand if you can’t do this anymore. if you don’t want to be with me. if you can’t remember our lives together. if you don’t want to remember us-“ you cut him off, hands reaching up to force his face to look at you. his eyes divert to anywhere but yours. 

“jack, how could you say this? i’m so in love with you it hurts. i remember everything and i wan’t to spend the rest of my life with you. like i promised you all those years ago.” 

he finally took the chance to look fully at you, bottom lip shaking and tears streaking down his face, coating his grey stubble. 

“you… you remember?” he babbled. you nodded in response, quickly pressing your lips to his. 

“if you’d come visited me, you’d know that,” you laugh, pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t. i couldn’t bare the thought of you seeing nothing but a stranger in me. i couldn’t be around you without getting upset.”

“i know. but please don’t do that to me again. we’re in this together.” 

“jack, you knew this could have been a possibility.” she replied, walking round to the opposite side of your bed. “how are you feeling?” her stare was now directed at you. 

“my whole head just hurts. up here,” you gestured to the dressing you’d just felt. “and my face feels like it’s been broken into pieces.”

“well as jack said, you had a fracture in that part of your skull. you also fractured the part in between the maxilla and zygomatic bone which is your upper cheekbone.”

“was i attacked?” 

“your patient’s husband didn’t like that you were asking too many questions. when he tried to take her before she’d finished being treated, you threatened to call the police. he left but hung around the ambulance bay waiting for you.” the stranger, you now knew as jack, explained. “we think it was random building brick he attacked you with, the footage isn’t super clear because of the angle. he hit your head first, then your face.” you reached up to wipe away the tears you had realised had begun falling. “you stumbled around a bit before managing to walk straight into the ED where we found you.” 

“it seems you have something called post traumatic amnesia. it’s your brains way of dealing with what happened.” 

“you’re emery walsh. attending surgeon.” the words slip out before you can stop them. she lets out a laugh, nodding more to herself. 

“that’s right. i was the one who operated on you. we’ve been friends for many years so i didn’t trust anybody else to look after you than myself.” without thinking, your hand reached out to grab hers. 

“thank you, em.” the nickname broke a cry that she’d been holding in since she first saw your state nearly days before. 

“things will come back gradually. there is no time frame on any of it.” 

“i understand, is there anything i can do?” 

“talking to people will be good. even if you don’t know who they are, they know you.” she gently slipped out of the room as quietly as she entered, leaving you alone with the sunken body in the chair beside you. 

“how do we know each other?” you asked, a small sense of optimism in your words. he let out a breathy laugh, mouth forcing into a smile. 

“we’re together. that’s an understatement we’re actually-“ his hand reached into his cargo pants pocket, pulling out a gold band. “we’re married. have been for a few years.” 

“oh.” your eyes fell to his palm, to the ring, to the identical one on his own finger. “i’m sorry.” he abruptly stood, beginning to walk towards the door. 

“you have nothing to apologise for.” his head fell down, gaze remaining on the scuffed floor. 

“i don’t remember being married to you. it’s going to be fucking shit for you too.” 

“i’m ok. i promise. i’m going to get anyone. you’re loved here so everyone will want to know that you’re ok.” 

“jack, wait.” you called out, watching as he stumbled out the room and down the corridor. tears hit your cheeks, fatigue setting in. your eyes closed, allowing the exhaustion to force you asleep. 

“so you’ve got to make sure you’re being more clear with the forms, you hear me?” a familiar accent dragged you from your slumber. 

“dana, i love you but you’ve got to let me sleep.” once again you could hear shuffling to your left, before a warm palm was placed against your forehead. 

“jesus sweetheart. you gave us all a fright.” your eyes opened, revealing the blonde charge nurse standing over you, head directly in your line of sight. 

“i didn’t intend for this to happen.” 

“none of us plan for it,” another voice spoke. you turned towards the sound, noticing a shorter grey scrubbed nurse cradling a large glazed doughnut. she noticed your staring, snack halfway to her mouth. “you want some?” 

dana slapped her arm in response. 

“i’m good, thank you. maybe later though.” her name was in the back of your head, jumbling around with the others. “princess.” you looked at her for confirmation. when she smiled, you reciprocated. 

“look at you go.” dana smirked, returning to her seat beside you. 

over the next day, people would gradually make their way up the numerous floors to visit. memories tumble back in fragments. a name here, a patient there. all good signs. the recollections around your husband continue regardless of his lack of appearance. his absence is noted by his colleagues but not spoken aloud in your room, as to not confuse or upset you. 

“do you remember when jack nearly ruined his own proposal to me? when he dropped the ring in the middle of the ED.” you chuckled, shovelling a handle of fries into your mouth. dana’s eyes flickered to robby’s, eyebrows raising and forehead crinkling. 

“yeah, he promised us not to say anything then it turns out one of the med students had seen it and told you.” 

“he’s definitely the reason she didn’t choose emergency medicine.”

“you remember a lot to do with jack?” dana shifted the conversation, hands pausing over the aged book she’d bought. 

“it feels like i remember a lot but he’s not been here. i haven’t been able to talk about them.” 

“he hasn’t come to see you?” robby asked. you shook your head.

“not since i first woke up. which fucking sucks. i have all this shit going on in my head and the one person who i want to be there more than anything isn’t. i’ve asked people to get him to come up but he just hasn’t.” 

“when i get my hands on that fucker.” dana immediately stands, anger now flooding her face. her hands throw the literature down on the leather chair, legs stalking out the room. 

“hey, it’s ok.” cassie was already pulled her gloves on, gently prying your hand away to inspect the wound. a wheelchair came speeding towards you, perlah’s grip on your arm tight, gently forcing you to sit. 

“i don’t need-“ you tried to protest as different hands came towards you. dana began cleaning the laceration cut across your left cheek. cassie was gently padding her fingers across your skull. 

frank, who you hadn’t even realised had come over, was now crouched down to your level, shining his pen light in your eyes. you winced slightly at the brightness, eyebrows drawing together.

“pupils equal and reactive.” he announced. your brain continued to try and process everything that was happening around you. the pain erupted through your skull as frank’s gloved hands reached to feel around your face, carefully avoiding tracking blood further across it. “i think she might have broke her fucking cheekbone” 

“i’m tired,” your voice slurred, head feeling weak against people’s palms. 

“you gotta try and stay awake, sweetheart.” dana encouraged, hand placing pressure against your shoulder. you groaned in response, eyes closing and neck slowly tilting backwards. 

“trauma one now. and someone call abbot.” when you didn’t even acknowledge jesse pushing the wheelchair into the room, a collective sense of panic flooded over everyone. 

ahmad’s frame came to the door, gazing at the sight of you being positioned on the gurney. “did she come in from the ambulance bay?” when perlah nodded in response, his fist clenched tight against the glass. “she said she was going for some air about 5 minutes ago.  she had a pissed off husband of a patient she’d been treating. asked me to call the police for DV.” 

“did you call them?” dana asked, hands making quick work attaching the relevant machines to your paling limbs. 

“yeah, i’ll try and see if i can start getting the CCTV aswell.”  he slipped through the door. 

“we need robby in here. i think she got hit with something like a brick or stone. there is debris all in here.” cassie spoke as she examined your head, causing a momentary pause to fall over the room.

“has someone managed to get a hold of jack? you know he’d never forgive us if he didn’t find out about this immediately.” 

your eyes opened slightly, not fully prepared for the view of the plain hospital ceiling above you. your body didn’t feel like your own. like your mind was awake but everything else refused to budge. you let out a groan, fingers stretching out against the hold something or someone had on it.

“hey, you’re ok,” a voice spoke. “take it easy.” 

a chair scrapped on your left side, forcing your lids shut as spasms of sharpness shot through your head. 

you could see the shadows of someone reaching over behind you. a beep was heard distantly outside the room.

“i’ve called the doctor to come check on you.” they announced, hand once again finding yours. 

“doctor?” you mumbled.  “what happened?”

blinking a few times, you finally familiarised yourself with the environment. it was a standard  room, monitors quietly providing vitals, itchy blue blanket covering your legs. the main difference being the casually dressed, silver haired man sat in the red leather recliner beside your bed. 

“hey beautiful,” he smiled when your gaze fell to him. you returned a blank look, confusion flooding your face. his expression immediately changed to match yours. 

“why am i here?”

“you got attacked, skull and facial fracture plus intercranial bleeding. but you’re ok now. its just resting and recovering.” he explained. you nodded, signifying you understand what he said. “it’s going to be a long journey but you’re strong. you can do it.” 

“thank you,” you spoke, eyes frantically searching his face for more answers. “I do just have to ask something else though.”

“what’s that, angel?” he sat forward on the chair, elbows resting on his thighs. 

“i don’t know why you’re not trusting me on this. i am very well paid, well renowned doctor. i know what i’m talking about” 

“because i want to see it for certain, john. i do trust you but sometimes a girl’s gotta do things herself.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, bouncing up to stand fully again. 

he stalked out of the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. “i’ll leave you to it. call me when you’re done.” 

now alone, you stared at the wall in front of you, choosing to glare the vintage prints that you’d both chosen to hang in the room. you scrunched your eyes shut, urging your body to comply. it took a time but you suddenly felt the need, rushing to grab the small tupperware pot you’d placed on the side cabinet. 

“john,” you yelled. the door flew open instantly, a wide smile now set on his face. 

“touchdown!” 

“don’t get too excited, we don’t know the results yet.” you chuckled. he grabbed the plastic cup from your hand, careful not to spill any of the contents over the bathroom floor. you quickly washed your hands, watching as john dipped the thin white strip into the slightly darker yellow liquid. he pulled his phone from his jean pocket, opening the timer. 

“you need to drink more water sweetheart. you’re clearly dehydrated.” a slap on his arm caused a chuckle to leave his lips. 

“that’s not the point of this, john.” you took his phone, setting the two minutes and pressing start. 

“now we wait.” he laid the test on the toilet paper you had laid on the tiles. 

after a matter of seconds, you turned to face the window, choosing not to stare at the item that could change your life in a matter of minutes. 

“what if it’s negative?” your voice had now quietened, expression changing to worry.  

“well i have a feeling it’s not going to be. but if it is, its ok.” john’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest. “because it means we can keep trying and you know how much i enjoy that.” you could feel his smile as he began pressing wet kisses against your bare neck. you quietly moaned at the feeling, pleasure flooding straight down. “how about we go distract ourselves whilst we wait?” 

“it’s two minutes, john. not two hours.” 

“i can be quick, baby.” he broke his actions, instead grabbing the hem of your tee, going to pull it up and over your head. the loud shrill of the timer going off stopped him just short of completion, a fake sob leaving his lips. “such a cockblock.” you shot him a tight-lipped, unamused smile. 

“are you ready?” john’s eyes shifted over your shoulder, towards the strip resting on the counter, his tongue gently licking his lips. 

“baby, you know i’m always ready.” he gently pressed his hips towards yours, allowing you to feel every inch of him. 

“ok, eyes closed.” you both complied, spinning in his grip so you both faced the large mirror. “open them on three.” your hands reached out for the test, holding it tight in your grip. 

“one” john started, tugging his hold on you tighter.

“two,” you could feel the way your heart was pounding hard in your chest. you could swear john would be able to feel it. the next few seconds could determine your entire future with him. you’d finally became comfortable in your careers to start a family. you’d started trying and felt incredibly fortunate when the nausea and tiredness started a few weeks later. john’s intuition had picked it up before you had, one day coming home from a shift with a brown pharmacy bag filled with tests. now here you were. 

“three.” you both spoke,opening your eyes, gaze falling to your closed palm. you gradually pulled your fingers back, hands shaking as you stared at the two bright pinkish lines. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“sure you don’t” she chimed back sarcastically. she’d seen the way you both looked at each other. she’d known jack a long time and was pleasantly surprised when he began taking an interest in you.

“well macho man, i’m going to tell you something that i do know for certain. you have nothing to worry about with whats going on there.”

her words hit jack’s chest tight.

“well hello beautiful people.” dana’s voice called out. she still had her denim jacket slung across shoulders “how much chaos did you cause for us today?” her presence alerted jack to the time. his shift was nearly over and he could soon return to his home and sleep away his feelings before returning to do the same thing again in another twelve hours.

the appearance of the day shift arriving jogged you out of your conversation, stepping quickly to pull the charge nurse into a hug.

“god, its good to see you. tonight’s been a nightmare.” you mumbled into her hair. dana’s gaze fell over to jack’s frame, who’d stood from his chair. her expression made jack chuckle.

“don’t believe her. it’s just because she got thrown up on,” crus laughed. “again. i mean it happened on multiple occasions.”

“i was on triage for a bit and flu season is clearly approaching. now i’m having to get new sneakers.” you peered down at your crocs, grateful you had left them in your locker weeks before. jack made a mental note to place an order for some for you.

the conversations continued as more colleagues arrived. the hand overs began and the night shift gradually started collecting their belongings to tap out for the day. you shoved your sweatshirt over your torso, tote bag over one shoulder and phone in hand.

“how you feeling?” you asked, bumping into jack’s arm as he stood near the ambulance bay doors. you’d noticed towards the end of the shift that he’d began favouring his left side, his prosthetic clearly causing him problems.

“i’m ok.” his bluntness shocked you, your eyebrows raising in surprise.

“don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist. you can have that attitude with other people but not with me.”

“don’t know what you’re talking about.” he repeated, hands trying to fiddle with the items in his pockets as a distraction.

“you know exactly what i mean, jack. and don’t think i didn’t see how you were looking at me and henderson talking.” jack’s mouth fell into a thin line, anxious that he had been caught. “im sure you’re very eager to know. the contents of our conversation were as follows: am i star wars fan, what’s my opinion on the sequels then when i said i loved them, he invited me to go see the force awakens with him in theatres for the 10th anniversary.”

“and what did you say?”

“i said i would love to but he’d need to bring alice, his girlfriend of many years.” jack’s face snapped to yours. a flash of smugness flooded your expression, smirk falling onto your lips. “as i haven’t seen her in a while and we would need to catch up over food either before or after. plus my old man boyfriend would wanna come too and i didn’t want it to be awkward.”

“did you really call me that to him?”

“oh no. i called you much worse. he’d figured out we’d been together a few months ago but kept it to himself because he respected our privacy.” jack knew he owed crus an apology when he saw him next.

“i’m sorry,” he sighed, placing his hand against your lower back to begin leading you towards staff parking.

“yeah, i know you are. i’m not going to lie, i think i might flirt with a few other people because it was insanely hot seeing you so jealous.” you stuck out your tongue as you approached his beaten up truck.

before you’d even reached for the handle, his body was caging yours against the door.

“oh yeah?” his breath felt hot against the back of your neck.

“yeah.” you swivelled on the balls of your feet, now turning to face him fully. his lips sat inches from yours.

“i overhead you mention that you were upset that robby didn’t have a cake yesterday so i decided to rectify that.” his hands slid the box open, revealing the cream filled sponge. “it’s a tiramisu style cake. instead of lady fingers, its layers of vanilla sponge soaked in coffee. it’s got the proper mascarpone cream as well and finished with a light dusting of cocoa powder.” you rambled.

“holy shit this looks incredible. tempted to just use my hands and dig right in.” you leant down to your backpack again where you’d pulled the cake from, producing a plastic fork. he snatched it from your hand, immediately sinking it into the sponge. the large piece he’d broken off was shoved into his mouth, an almost orgasmic sound leaving his lips. before you could say anything, he’d already scooped up another bite.

“i take it you like it then?” he mumbled in agreement, licking the fork clean when the white box was empty.

“that was actually fucking delicious. you need to tell me which bakery you got this from because i’m going to need to get some more of that immediately after my shift.” when you didn’t reply, he spun round to face you fully. “hey don’t gatekeep this place. i promise i won’t share it with anyone else. it can be our secret.”

you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, feeling as the blush spread up your cheeks. “i can’t tell you which bakery i got it from because i didn’t get it from one.” he tilted his head in confusion. “i made it myself.” you mumbled.

his face beamed into a wide grin, hands reaching up to grab your shoulders. “are you telling me you are the creator of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth?” a scoff sounded out behind us, parker ellis giggling to herself. john shot her a middle finger before returning his attention to you. “what did i do to deserve this?”

eyes blinking aggressively, you stared deeply at the attending. your brain was anxiously trying to come up with a sentence that didn’t reveal your longtime crush on him. “i just thought-“

lena’s voice broke out around the space. “trauma incoming. gsw. 2 minutes out.”

“saved by the bell,” ellis laughed, roughly patting your shoulder as she passed.

when the patient had been sent up to surgery, john took his opportunity to steal you away, dragging you into an empty exam room. he shoved the curtain across, giving your conversation a sense of privacy. when you tried to protest, he shot you an expectant look.

“you didn’t answer my question and i would like the answer please.”

“i just did ok. i wanted to do something nice for you. why does it have to be more than that?” you feet began to take you towards the door. before you could even take more than a few steps, his hand grabbed your wrist, dragging you back so you were now flush against him. his fingers shifted, reaching up to cradle the soft skin of your cheek.

“john,” you started, words catching as he captured his lips on yours.

“that’s why i wanted to know,” he breathed when he reluctantly pulled away. you fell into a smile, forehead resting gently on his.

“so worth the hours i spent making it. there are left overs in my kitchen as well.”

“they will all be there when you get back. 10 minutes. even if you just go sit in the break room and eat a protein bar. if not for your sake then mine, please.” you let out a deep sigh.

“i hate it when you’re right.” your head lulled forward to gently rest against his broad chest.

“i usually am.” he laughed.

you pulled back, choosing to stare directly at him. he noted the change in your expression, head tilting slightly in confusion.

“what’s that face for?” he asked. your lips raised into a smirk, fingers interlacing before dragging his body across the linoleum floor. he followed reluctantly, legs trailing behind.

you stopped in front of a solid wood door, a small gold plaque stuck on reading ‘ED ON CALL ROOM’.

robby’s hands fell from yours, swiftly tapping his pass against the reader before shoving you both in the darkened room.

“sweetheart, are you out of your mind?” he aggressively whispered “someone could have seen.”

your gaze fell to the single bed against the wall, guilt already flooding through your bones. “everyone basically already knows, michael. it’s been months.” you mumbled, hands going to pick with the drawstring of your scrub pants.

his eyes raked over your frame from where he stood a few feet apart. he could practically feel you shrinking in on yourself.

“hey,” he took the steps to close the distance between you, once again reaching for your hands. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that.”

“honestly, it’s fine michael. i knew what i was signing up for when we started this.” the tone of your voice broke his heart.

your relationship had started very easy going, a way to relive some stress and burdens of working in the busy emergency department but over the months, the lines between casual and romantic had began to blur. you’d started staying the nights at each others places, electing to make more than just a coffee in the morning. you’d introduced him to a few members of your friendship group. he’d told you about growing up with his grandparents. you’d shared secrets and hopes for the future, now both picturing a shared goal.

he’d whispered those three words to you multiple times. it had always been in the early hours of the morning, when he was meant to be sleeping but couldn’t do anything other than stare at your naked frame, fast asleep on his chest with his arm slung across your waist.

you’d wanted to say it to him for a while, never gaining the courage to finally stand up and ask what you actually were. to tell him that you were in love with him and couldn’t imagine a life without him.

“please don’t-“ he begged, dropping to his knees in front of your frame. “don’t act like this is on you. it’s my fault. i’ve been an idiot.”

“no you haven’t, michael. we both agreed-“ you started, hands running over your face.

“i love you” you halted your movements, prying your fingers away from your eyes to look down at the man at your feet. “i should have told you when i first felt it but i was a coward. but you make me better and now i want to shout it from the roof.” you let out a quiet laugh.

“i love you too. have done for a while.”

“can i tell you a secret?” he murmured, pressing his forehead against your stomach. your hands began to rake through his soft brown locks. when you hummed in response, he continued. “i actually said i love you months ago.” you halted your actions, causing his chin to press up to allow him to look at you.

“what do you mean?”

“you know when we all went that bar for dana’s birthday and i basically had to spend the entire evening looking after you after you got too drunk,” you nodded. “i told everyone i’d get you home safety, which i did but you refused to let me leave so i helped you get undressed and into bed. i’d obviously been in your bed before but i realised this was the first time i’d stayed over without us actually doing anything. you’d attempted to strip me but i told you we could do stuff the day after if you were feeling up to it. you’d let out your happy little sound before falling asleep within minutes. i’d laid there with you, just staring whilst you snored. i just honestly thought ‘this is it. this is how i want to spent the rest of my life’ so i said it and you just sighed in your sleep.”

“michael,” you beamed, swiping a tear away before it fell onto his face. “that was beautiful. and very me” he laughed in response, gripping the metal frame of the cot to help himself up, knees clicking as he did so.

you’d politely got comfortable before shoving your music back on and opening your book back, choosing to respect the privacy and comfort of your seatmate.

he’d noticed an hour or so in, your headphones were now placed in the top of your backpack, along with the literature, plane ticket shoved somewhere in the pages, acting as a bookmark. your body had nestled up against the leather seat, sleep taking over.

within 10 or so minutes, your head had fallen against his side, arms curled up inside the oversized graphic hoodie you’d been wearing.

instead of moving you off, he gently placed his own head against yours, allowing the tiredness aching deep in his bones to plunge him into sleep.

you’d both woken hours later, jolting to the noise of the captain announcing the descent into pittsburgh international.

your hands came up to your mouth, quickly wiping away the small sliver of dribble that had fallen.

“shit, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to fall asleep, especially not on you.” you rambled.

jack chuckled, arms stretching up high to help realign himself. your eyes darting to the small patch of skin that had been revealed when he reached up. he noticed your staring, a smirk falling onto his face.

your eyes widened at the act of being caught, cheeks blushing intently.

“jesus christ, i’m such a fucking mess.” you mumbled, hands going to grab your phone from your bag as a distraction.

“hey,” jacks voice pulled you from your desperate actions. “please don’t worry. that’s the best sleep i’ve had all week. been staying on my sisters shitty air mattress that she insists doesn’t have a puncture.”

his words forced a small smile on your face. “i’m sorry again.”

“this is super forward but will you be in pittsburgh long?” jacks heart started thumping so loudly in his chest, he was certain the entire plane could hear.

“oh,” you answered in surprise. “yeah i’ll be there for the foreseeable future. why do you ask?”