Be mine

The nightmare date 

Chapter 17:

This appointment had been on the books before everything with Abbott went sideways. Before the rooftop. Before the rain. Before the way he looked at her like something had already shifted and neither of them knew how to stop it. Four days. Only four days, and it felt like a lifetime had wedged itself in between. Kit sat in her car for a second longer than necessary, hands still on the wheel, staring straight ahead like she could convince herself this was normal. This is normal. People go on dates, people move on.you have broken up with your ex-finance almost 8 months and need to move on and people don’t spiral over their boss who kissed them in a stairwell and then held them like that on a roof like it meant something. Her grip tightened slightly.This is the normal. Her job description calls for her to do this. She exhaled slowly. “It is time for you to go on,” she muttered under her breath. “Here is how you proceed.” The words felt rehearsed. Hollow. Still she opened the door and got out. The restaurant was warm. Low lighting. Comfortable enough that it should’ve settled her. It didn’t. She felt off before she even saw him. Like she had walked in already halfway out of it. Exhausted. Preoccupied. Not fully there.

Jimmy was already seated, standing when he saw her. “Hey—Kit, right?” “Yeah,” she smiled, polite. Easy. Automatic. “Hi.” He was… fine. Delightful enough. Clean-cut. Confident in a way that didn’t feel threatening. The kind of guy that made sense. And that was the problem.

At first, it was tolerable. Easy conversation. Work talk. Light teasing. “You’re a nurse, right? That’s… honestly, I love nurses,” Jimmy said, leaning forward like he meant it. “My mom was a nurse.”

There it was. Kit nodded. “Oh—yeah?” just waiting for his response “Yeah,” he smiled. “I just—have a lot of respect for it, you know? Take a certain kind of person.” The compliment sat weird. Too polished. Too… placed. “Thanks,” she said anyway. He kept going. Talking about how hard nurses work. How he “always admired them.” How he “gets along better with women like that.” It felt like he was reading off something. Like she was a type he had already decided she fit into. She smiled through it. “It’s okay… that’s okay…” she told herself quietly. This is what normal feels like. He never really asked about her, never getting to know who she is but just jumping straight into work. Which is definitely his whole personality. They start sharing story from work and the crazy call the only common thing they found so far telling a story or at least trying he kept interrupting her story and just telling another one of his never letting her finished but she letting it happen because she doesn’t know anything else to compare it too she only has been 3 first date and they were all kinda awful. I mean 2 of them were in high school and one in her freshman year of college. Whatever it would be, good experience if anything but then he brought up a call. “Actually,” Jimmy said, leaning back slightly, “I had this call the other night—total shitshow.” Kit’s attention sharpened despite herself. The first time she heard him say that he was the hero of the story and saved everyone. “Yeah?” He nodded and started spitting

 “Guy, mid-40s, OD. Real bad. Barely breathing. It was like 3 a.m. and the call came in a mess. The rig rattled over potholes. Lights flashing just enough to make everything feel tighter and I was getting thrown around on this  Let’s not fuck around, my partner muttered. We were moving fast and when we pulled up to the apartment door Stale smoke was coming out of the door and when we found him the Guy half off this blue couch and  He was unconscious when we showed up. And there were drugs all over the place and this guy was fat. Barely there. I was like Shit—he’s barely breathing. Yelling my partner to get stuff and I started bagging him I got the Narcan. I did one dose and nothing. So I did the second one which then the guy twitched and then gasped. But it wasn't enough. And he still wasn't getting good air and kept yelling Come on in the house and the family was looking to discuss and I kept adjusting the airway and kept checking my mask seal. But with the movement it was impossible so I decided to just load him up which it wasn't to move that man I will say… I mean… I don't know how someone gets that fat but that's beside the point. We finally loaded him. And we loaded in there fast which might have been my best work yet. By the time we hit the ER I was saying all the calls and directing everyone on what to do while telling people what was happening Overdose, unresponsive… the boring stuff. Hands everywhere And then this fucking asshole was question me. Why the hell is he sitting like that? The doctor that came in and had his panties in a twist, already pissed like immediately on my ass” Jimmy’s jaw tightened even in the retelling and shaking his head slightly. Kit asked “which doc was this” really curious who he dislikes this much “I think his name is abbott or something like that i dont really care to know his name” he said and Kit’s stomach dropped slightly. She already knew where this was going. “But whatever back in the trauma bay he was asking me, did you secure the airway? Like he big honchow We were bagging him— then he has the ball to say That’s not what I asked. I mean he was getting oxygen in his body, and i explained to him that he was breathing— but he cut me off and said No,He wasn’t breathing. He was dying. Which I think is over dramatic. He made it sound like I killed the guy or something, then he pushed me and tubed the guy and then said I got lucky And then he just went off, and he said that I don’t know what I’m doing” Jimmy exhaled hard, sitting back in his chair now. Kit’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass. Kit tilted her head slightly. “What do you mean?” He palmed face and dragged his hand down his face. “He starts going on about how I ‘missed it,’ how I ‘don’t get to miss that , air quoting. Like dude it was a mistake. It happens. He’s just so intense, I’ll give him that, he added. But like dude… relax and I told him that. I was like, hey, it was chaotic, we handled it, the guy lived” she could hear Abbott’s voice in her head, Clear as day.and him saying you don’t get to miss that to her  Kit blinked. “Wait, you actually said that to him?”

he shrugged “Yeah,Why wouldn’t I?” And he just looks at me and goes— You got lucky. So yeah—we kind of got into it. Jimmy let out a breath, shaking his head. Kit’s stomach dropped. “Like… an argument?” she asked carefully. Jimmy laughed. Oh no—full-on, back at the ER you don’t talk to me like that, then don’t give me a reason to.That’s bullshit,We did our job then he started yelling at me how I missed his airway, It was a split-second thing And that’s all it takes I shot back made more mad and he stepped closer like he was going to fight me or something he said and that’s all it takes, I actually scoffed then said You act like you’ve never made a mistake he said I don’t make that one, which i find hard to believe but i had to be a man and stepped forward too then told him You don’t get to talk down to me like that then he start yelling at me And you don’t get to walk in here thinking ‘good enough’ is acceptable and The room went still and no one was deafening me or helping me which is crazy because if someone talking to another person like that i would have stepped them and Defend them for making a mistake, so i called his out and said You’re an ass then he had the nerve to respond with 

Maybe, but he’s alive.” Jimmy shrugged. “So yeah,” he said. “Guy’s kind of a dick.” Kit stared at her drink for a second too long because she knew that version of Abbott her mind drifting thinking getting mad and she kind wanted it to see it and how it would be sexy then thinking how she should be thinking about that or thinking that mad abbott should be hot to her but then she snapped out of her day dream because jimmy started talking again “He didn’t have to come at me like that,” Jimmy added. “It was just a mistake.” Kit looked up and for the first time all night she was fully present. “It’s not just a mistake,” she said quietly. Jimmy blinked. “What?” She didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to defend him but it slipped out anyway. “If you miss an airway,” she continued, voice steady now, “that’s not small.”Jimmy frowned slightly. “I didn’t miss it—” but she interrupted “You did,” not harshly. Just… honest. Jimmy leaned back, looking at her with a scowled at with disdain “You sound like him.” Kit exhaled slowly, shaking her head slightly. “No,” she said. “I just… work with him.” He picked up his drink. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Well. Good luck with that.” and just like that the date was over not officially but in her head 

They finished their drinks and made it through the motions. The conversation became lighter now with she was happy about that. They walk toward the outside.which the air was cooler than she remembered. Jimmy walked her to her car.“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “we should do this again.” Kit nodded automatically. “Yeah…” He leaned in and she let him. Because that’s what you do, it was kinda expected on date to end it with a kiss i mean it’s normal. The kiss was… fine, forgettable. He asked “do you want to come back to mine” she was in shock that he asked that, not because she was expecting that he wouldn't ask because most guy expected to fuck on the first date but by how she the date went like does he think that went for him. “No I don't really do that on the first date” his face didn’t change he just said “ no i get it, i just thought since i payed for everything tonight” you looking him with disgust now “ well i would just like to get a return on my investment” she now scoffed at him for even say that. That he could say it like that. She took a big step back basically running into her car door “well you have your right hand for a reason” under breath the quickly saying “Goodnight,” strained coming from her. “Yeah,” Jimmy nodded. “Night.”

She opened her car door as fast as she could and got in her car and just sat there. In complete silence letting her anger fester Her hands gripping the steering wheel. White nucking it, let her head tipped back against the seat. “ what the actual fuck was that”  She let out a quiet, frustrated breath then screamed in her car to let all her anger out or what ever the fuck she is feeling. Because no matter how hard she tried but all men all the same she kept thinking but then she slowly started thinking that Abbott would have never done that. She couldn’t make herself feel anything close to what she felt with him and that was the problem. Her phone lit up, Gabbie intimately answered “Hel..”  She didn’t even make it through hello before the words started spilling out. “That was awful, I think that was the worst thing everlike genuinely, Gabbie, what the fuck was that?” Gabbie didn’t even try to interrupt, Kit just kept going. “He kept touching me like not even in a normal way just like… on my leg under the table, grabbing my hand like we were already something, and I didn’t even like him like that,” she ranted, her voice rising with every word. “And then when we were walking out he put his hand on my back like… like he had some right to do that, like it was already decided or something.” She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she drove, eyes fixed on the road but not really seeing it. “And the kiss, oh my god don’t even get me started on the kiss,” she groaned. “That was the worst kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life. Too much teeth, too much tongue, like what are we doing? Pick a struggle.” Gabbie snorted quietly on the other end. “And I only did it because I felt obligated, which is so stupid,” Kit kept going, words tumbling over each other. “Like I got all dressed up, spent way too long figuring out what to wear, did my makeup for what? For that? For him to act like I owe him something because he paid for dinner?” She let out another frustrated breath. “And then he has the audacity to say he wants a ‘return on his investment’? I swear to god, I almost hit him with my car.” Gabbie cut in finally, dry “Please don’t commit vehicular manslaughter,” Kit huffed. “I’m considering it.” There was a pause just long enough for Gabbie to actually speak. “I’m sorry,” she said, softer now. “I didn’t think it was gonna go like that. He doesn’t act like that at work. Like… at all. Everyone likes him, he’s always been a really nice guy.” Kit scoffed. “Yeah, well, apparently not outside of work.” Kit to a breath letting Gabbie respond “I’m actually shocked,” Gabbie continued. “Like that’s not the vibe he gives off at all.” Kit leaned her head back slightly against the seat for a second at a red light, eyes closing briefly. “Well, the vibe was not it,” she muttered.Gabbie added, a little more teasing now, “Also… side note… Abbott is probably kinda hot when he’s mad.”

Kit rolled her eyes “What?” saying it with something weird behind it  “I’m just saying,” Gabbie laughed. “The way Jimmy described it? Intense, in control, calling people out…” Kit cut in quickly “Okay stop,” but there was no bite to it. “and you backed him up,” Gabbie continued, ignoring her. “Which is interesting.” Kit felt the muscle contracting from the frustration “I didn’t back him up,” she said, but it came out weaker than she wanted. “You literally told Jimmy he missed the airway.”  Kit shot back immediately. “Because he *did*,” Gabbie hummed. “Mmhm.” There was a pause then, quieter, almost under her breath, Kit muttered, “…I mean… yeah. He probably is.” Gabbie perked up “What was that?” she quickly responded “Nothing,” remarking “Keep talking.” Gabbie laughed. “Oh my god, no we’re circling back to that later.” Kit shook her head, pulling into her street now. “Gabbie…” she started, her voice shifting slightly. More serious. “Hey I… I need to talk to you in person.” That got her attention.

“…Okay,” Gabbie said slowly. “About what?” Kit hesitated for half a second. “It’s about work,” she said.

Not a lie but not the truth. “…What about work?” Gabbie pressed. Kit exhaled, pulling into her driveway.

“I just… I can’t do this over the phone,” she admitted. “I have too many thoughts and I can’t get them out right like this…Please come over,” she added, softer now. “I really need you.” There was no hesitation this time. “Yeah,” Gabbie said immediately. “I’ll come over.” kit trying to say “You don’t have to—” but Gabbie cut her off  “I’m already grabbing my keys, I’ll drive myself, it’s fine. Give me like twenty minutes.” Kit let out a small breath, tension easing just slightly. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you.” Gabbie replied “Of course,” further clarifying “Don’t spiral without me.” Kit huffed a quiet laugh. “No promises.”

By the time Gabbie got there, Kit was upstairs in her room, halfway through ripping herself out of the version of her that had gone on that date. Makeup half gone. Dress unzipped and hanging awkwardly off one shoulder. Hair messy from running her hands through it too many times and then up in a bun 

She heard the front door open. “Hello?” Gabbie called. “Upstairs!” Kit yelled back. She can hear footsteps coming up the stairs. The door swung open without a knock, Gabbie stepping in with a bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “Emergency supplies,” she announced. Kit looked over to see the McDonald’s bag. “…Fries?” Gabbie confirmeding “Large and I almost got nuggets but I didn’t know how bad it was.” Kit stared at her for half a second “Oh my god, thank god you’re here,” she said, dropping her makeup wipe onto the dresser. “You are the best human in the world.” while smiling at her 

“I know,” Gabbie nodded, already kicking off her shoes. Ten minutes later, they were downstairs.

Wine poured, the fries spread across the coffee table like a sacred offering, both of them sitting on the floor, legs crossed, leaning into the couch. Kit took a sip of wine, then another, like she needed it just to start. “So,” Gabbie said, popping a fry into her mouth. “Tell me everything.” Kit opened her mouth then closed it. Then opened it again, this time deciding to work “Okay, so work has just been… a lot,” she started, immediately cringing at herself. Gabbie stared at her. “Don’t bullshit me.” Kit groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I know, I know, okay,” she muttered. “I just didn’t know how to start it.” She sat up again, exhaling. “I can’t take it anymore,” she finally admitted . “I just have to tell someone.” Gabbie leaned forward slightly. “…Okay.” Kit hesitated.

Then it all came out.Not in a straight line. Not clean. It spilled, messy and tangled, the way it had been sitting in her chest this whole time. “The bar the night we went out for my birthday,” Kit started, already shaking her head a little like she couldn’t believe she was saying it out loud. “It was… different. I don’t know how to explain it. We were just talking and it felt easy. Like really easy. Like I’ve known him for years or something.” Gabbie leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees. “Okay…” Kit added, “And the way he looked at me,” quieter now. “Not like normal. Not like how he looks at people at work. It was… softer? But also not? I don’t know, it just it felt like it meant something.” Gabbie’s brows lifted a little. “That’s already suspicious.” Kit huffed a small breath, almost laughing. “I know.” She grabbed her wine glass, taking a sip before continuing. “And then you know about the case where I had taken care of the SA victim” Gabbie nodded. “Well I ended up on the rooftop, and he came up and found me in a ball crying” she said, her voice dipping a little. “After everything with that patient… I lost it. Like completely. I didn’t even know I was up there until I was already crying.” Gabbie’s expression softened instantly. “Yeah…” Kit said, looking down at her hands now. “I didn’t even hear him come up. He just was there.”

Still a lot to think about that day but the thought of him softened it a little bit “And he didn’t say anything at first. Just… stayed. And then” she exhaled slowly, trying to find the words, “he pulled me into him. Like immediately. No hesitation. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.” Gabbie blinked. “Oh.” Kit nodded “Yeah,” almost helplessly. “And it wasn’t weird. It should’ve been weird but it wasn’t. I just went with it. Like I needed it or something.” added another blow “The way he held me…” she added more quietly. “It wasn’t just like comforting. It was… grounding. Like everything just stopped for a second.” Gabbie let out a slow breath. “Okay, that’s—” with this look that she is trying to retain all of this information she is throwing at her.  “I know,” Kit cut in quickly. “I know” She rubbed her hands over her face for a second before continuing. “And then the day I came in with the pizza something happened,” she said, her tone shifting again. “That was… different.” Gabbie tilted her head. “Different how?” She started explaining “He pulled me in there,” Kit also said “Like—checked first that no one was around, and then just—took my hand and brought me in.” Gabbie’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh my god.” kit shaking her head during this part  “And he apologized,” Kit went on. “Like actually apologized. Not in his usual way. Like real. Said he was out of line, that I was right to call him out.” then looking at gabbie like what the fuck am I telling you “And he was standing so close,” she added, voice quieter again. “Like way closer than he needed to be. And I didn’t move. I didn’t want to move.” Interminable pause

“And the touches…” Kit muttered, almost to herself now. “They shouldn’t have meant anything. Like his hand on my back in the ER, or brushing past me but it didn’t feel like nothing. It felt like… something.”

Gabbie nodded slowly, watching her carefully. “And then the flowers,” Kit added, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. “He remembered what I said when I was talking to you I liked. I didn’t even think he was paying attention at the time.” Gabbie just let her finish before saying  “That’s insane,” while moving her hand to express it.  “Right?” Kit looked at her. “Like who does that?” Gabbie countering “Someone who’s paying attention,”  Kit swallowed slightly, her fingers tightening around her glass. “And the way he talks to me,” she went on. “It’s not the same as everyone else. It’s… softer sometimes. Or like—he’s choosing his words more carefully. But then other times he’s still… him. And it just it throws me off.”

She shook her head again. “And the way he looks at me…” she finished, her voice almost dropping off at the end. “It’s like he’s trying not to. Like he catches himself, but it’s already there.” Silence settled between them. Gabbie stared at her for a second longer. “…Yeah,” she said slowly. “No, that’s not in your head, right?” kit taking a big swig of her wine and finished her glass while pouring her a new glass 

And then “there was the night at my place” gabbie quickly shouted at her “he was here” Kit grunting and looked away before saying “ yeah and We uh… we kissed,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “Like against the door. Right when we got inside.” while gesturing toward the front door. Gabbie’s eyes widened but she didn’t interrupt. “It wasn’t planned,” Kit rushed slightly. “It just happened. One second we were talking in the rain outside and then he was just there.” gabbie now be Impatient “ wait what… What do you mean you were in the rain” She shook her head a little, like she was still trying to understand it herself. “Well he found me walking home that night in the rain and then try to convince me to get into his car so he could drive me home but I kept saying no or I am fine but then he pulled over and got out of his car and walked me to my house and then I kinda… uh.. Just blow up at him, trying to make sense of what was happening and then i was crying in his arms again then he told me that we have to go inside and that how he ended up here and then I kissed him ” Gabbie in disbelieve now “that a fucking A movie scene that you just said and wait did I hear you correctly that you made the first move” then quickly adding “go for you to make the first move, you badass” that made kit chuckle a little bit “yeah I know and it wasn’t like a quick thing either,” she added. “It was… a lot. Like neither of us really wanted to pull away.” then kit looked at Gabbie with a face “Then Dana knocked,” she said, letting out a breath that almost turned into a laugh. “Of course she did. Worst timing of my life.” Gabbie let out a quiet “oh my god.” Kit continued “I thought that was it, and I thought he was going to leave, everything was going to snap back to normal. But I—” she hesitated, then pushed through it, “I asked him to stay.”

Gabbie looked at Kit with googleeyes “You did?” Kit admitted softly. “I couldn’t be alone, Not after that shift. Not after that little girl. I just… I couldn’t do it, which seems so pathetic of me” Her voice dipped, more vulnerable now.“No, not at all I don't think I could either, so I dont blame you but wait I am sorry, he stayed.” Kit quickly responded to explain herself  “We didn’t do anything. We just… went to bed. Like actually just sleeping. Same bed, but nothing else.” She let out a slow breath, staring down at her hands.“And it felt… safe,” she said. “Which is probably the worst part.” then looking at gabbie like she was going to break “But when I woke up, he was gone,” she finished. “Like he’d never been there. No note, nothing. Just… gone.” That one lingered because somehow that part stuck the most.

“I think I’m—” she stopped herself, shaking her head. “No—I know I’m starting to fall for him.” The words landed heavy between them. “But I can’t,” she added quickly. “He’s my boss. He would never cross that line, and even if he did, it would ruin everything.” Her voice softened. “And I’ve been trying to move on,” she admitted. “That’s why I went on the date. But the entire time it wasn’t going well, all I could think about was him.” She let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do, Gabbie.” Dead air then  “…Yeah,” Gabbie said slowly and Kit nictitated “Yeah… Yeah,” she repeated. “That tracks.” Kit stared at her. “That’s all you have to say?” Gabbie shrugged slightly. “I mean… from the outside? It’s kind of obvious.” I know Kit was just more confused from her response “What?” Kit sat up straighter. “No, it’s not.” Gabbie gave her a look. “The way he looks at you?” she said. “The way you look at him? The way he follows you around without realizing it? Yeah it’s not subtle.” A wave of nausea hits her while she is hearing all of this “And the flowers?” Gabbie added. “Please.” Kit groaned, grabbing a handful of fries just to have something to do. “Don’t say that,” she muttered. “I’m just telling you what it looks like,” Gabbie shrugged. “And honestly? I get it.” Kit glanced up. “ I just don't want to get my hope up for them to get destroyed” her lips tightening together “Yeah, I understand that” Gabbie said simply. “ But he's intense, he’s good at what he does, he actually cares, and he treats you differently. That’s… kind of a dangerous combination.” Kit let out a breath, tension easing just slightly. “Okay, so I’m not insane.” Gabbie shook her head.“No, you’re absolutely not insane.” Kit laughed quietly. “Good.” Then Gabbie tilted her head slightly. “…What’s Dana going to think?” Kit froze looking at her, immediately shaking her head. “No. Absolutely not.” Gabbie questions her “You’re not going to tell her?” Kit said firmly “No, I don’t even want to think about that.” Gabbie simply added “Why?” Kit is now getting stress again feeling her body get the shivers “Because she’ll analyze everything,” Kit said quickly. “She’ll watch every interaction, every look, every little thing and then she’ll start interrogating him and me and I just no. I can’t do that.” Gabbie nodded slowly. “Fair.” before she stuff her face with fries that are almost cold because we have been talking for so long. “And I don’t even know how she’d look at me after,” Kit added, quieter now. “Or him. Or both of us.” Kit leaned back against the couch, exhaling. “…I feel better,” she admitted. Gabbie smiled slightly. “Yeah?” Kit nodded “Yeah, I thought I was going insane.” She laughed at that statement. “You were,” Gabbie teased lightly. “Just not about this.” Kit rolled her eyes and gave her a stinker face but smiled anyway. “And now,” she added, glancing at her, “I have you.” Gabbie raised her glass. “You do.” Kit clinked hers against it. “And you’ll be able to see it,” Kit said. “At work. Without me having to explain everything.” Gabbie smirked. “Oh, I will absolutely be watching.” looking at her while slanting her head “Don’t make it weird please.” but gabbie crossed her arm “No promises.” Kit laughed. And for the first time all night everything was off her chest.

Frozen moment melting

Chapter 16:

The door barely opened an inch more before seeing that Dana was there. Close enough that Kit could see every detail, the concern already written all over her face, the way her eyes softened instantly the second they landed on her. And god… that look. That look Dana always had. The one that made everything in Kit want to fold. For a second, Kit just… stood there. One shoulder tucked behind the door. One hand still pressed flat against Abbott’s chest behind it hidden, but not gone. Like she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of him yet. Like if she did, the whole moment would disappear too fast. She rested her forehead against the edge of the door, eyes slipping shut for half a second as she took a slow breath in. Trying to get her body back under control. Trying to not look like she had just been… Yeah that. When she opened her eyes again, Dana was still looking at her. Still soft. Still worried. “Kit…” she said gently, voice dropping into that tone. The one that always felt like home and pressure at the same time. “Why are you wet? And why haven’t you changed out of your clothes?” Kit blinked looking down.

She was still soaked. Clothes clinging to her skin, hair damp and messy, the cold finally catching up now that she wasn’t moving anymore. The only thing missing were her shoes, abandoned somewhere near the entry. “Oh baby…” Dana’s voice softened even more, her hand lifting slightly like she wanted to reach for her but didn’t. “You look so tired.” Kit swallowed. Then she pushed the door open just a little more, enough to make it look normal. Enough to make it not suspicious. Never enough to let Dana see behind it, to see him. She stepped more fully into the doorway instead, blocking the view without making it obvious. Giving Dana space, but not access. “I walked home,” Kit said, her voice quieter now. “I couldn’t drive my truck the way I am right now.” Dana’s brows pulled together immediately in concern deepening. Her eyes flicked past Kit just glancing at all of Kit's surroundings and landed on something behind her. Kit followed the glance. Shit it was Abbott’s shirt on the floor in, in its own little puddle. Her stomach dropped, but she didn’t let it show. Didn’t give Dana the second to think about it. “Hey—” Kit cut in quickly, a little too fast, stepping slightly more into the frame of the door. “I’m just… really tired, Aunt Dana.” The word aunt softened it. Something i havent used in a while since being back and working with her. “I was about to head to bed.” Dana’s eyes came back to her face. Searching always searching and there was a pause, a quiet one. The kind where Dana didn’t push but felt everything anyway. Her gaze softened again, something deeper moving through it now. Something unspoken.

In the way her eyes held Kit’s, in the silent question: *Do you want to talk about it?* *About what happened tonight?* Kit felt it hit straight in her chest, her throat tightened. She shook her head slightly, almost apologetic. “Hey… I don’t think I can do it tonight,” she said, voice a little shakier now. “It’s just—too much right now.” A breath trying to keep it all together “I just need to figure out how to breathe again.” Dana exhaled softly and simply nodded immediately. “Okay, okay,” she said gently. “I get it. I understand.” Another beat. “But we should talk about this later. Okay?” Kit nodded. “Of course,” she said, softer now. “Goodnight. I love you.” A small pause. “Please get home safe. I’ll call you in the morning.” Dana smiled faintly then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Kit’s cheek.“Goodnight, baby.” and then she turned. Walking back toward her car, disappearing into the quiet street, leaving Kit standing there in the doorway caught between two worlds.

 The second the car door shut in the distance, Kit closed her own. Slow closing the door with one hand on the knob. The other slid down the seam of the door like she needed to feel it close. Like she needed the separation, the second it clicked she turned. There he was still standing exactly where she left him, shirtless and watching her. The weight of it hit her all over again. And she let out a quiet, disbelieving huff of a laugh under her breath, shaking her head. Like What the hell just happened? Abbott smirked right back at her, equal parts disbelief and something else. “I’m glad you can find some humor about this,” he said dryly. Kit’s eyes dropped to the floor between them to see the small puddle of water that had formed. Where they had been standing. Where they had been doing a lot more than standing. “Well,” she muttered, “that’s a story for one day for sure.” She looked back up at him, watching for his reaction. Something flickered across his face, amusement, Something softer. He didn’t quite let it show all the way. “Well,” she added, stepping away from the door, giving him space. space now, “I guess life is always keeping me on my toes.” He nodded once then shifted slightly, like he didn’t know what to do with his body anymore. What to do with this. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Seems like it.” letting the air still fizzle. “I’ll get out of your space,” he added, voice softer now. Awkward in a way she had never seen from him before. “Head out.” He moved toward his shirt. Her chest spiked, fast, immediate. Her hand shot out before she could think. Stopping him. Her fingers brushing his wrist just enough to pause him.

“Hey—” That’s all she had, just that. He looked at her immediately, he was trying to read her. To Diagnose her, waiting. She swallowed, mind blank, feeling her pulse coming through her skin racing way too fast. “I would really like it if you stayed.” The words came out before she could stop them. Immediately she second-guessed it… God, that sounded desperate. He hesitated, still half-bent toward his shirt, eyes on her, searching once again. “Hey… I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I… I don’t overstay. I don’t know if that would be okay.” And something in her chest tightened in panic as she was scaring him off how she was being too much too overbearing. “Hey—I don’t think I can be alone right now.” It slipped out, Quieter. That changed everything. His expression softened instantly, something in him shifting. His shoulder dropped. The walls, lowering. “Okay,” he said, gentler now. “Yeah.” Her hand moved up without thinking, pushing damp hair back behind her ear, a nervous habit. “Thank you,” she whispered, it coming out small. Almost like she was embarrassed by how much she meant it. He didn’t say anything back right away. He just looked at her. Taking in the exhaustion in the wet clothes. The way she was barely holding it together. He stepped closer, not too close like before but close enough that she wasn’t alone anymore.

The stairs felt quieter than everything that had just happened. Kit didn’t think she just reached for his hand. Not dramatic. Not lingering. Just led him up. Her room felt different, smaller somehow or maybe it was just because he was in it. Kit moved without really thinking, crossing to her dresser like muscle memory had taken over. Drawers opening, closing hands pulling out whatever felt right without actually seeing it. Jack stayed by the doorway at first.Leaning back against it, watching. Not in a way that felt invasive but in a way that felt… focused. Like he was trying to understand something he hadn’t seen before. the version of her not under fluorescent lights and pressure and chaos. The way she moved. She didn’t even realize she was moving. He was trying to memorize it. Trying to engrave into his head so remember this later when he was lonely and sad thinking about his he didn't always feel that way. She pulled out a pair of old sweatpants—soft, worn, clearly lived in and turned toward him still in the doorway, handing them to him. She gestured vaguely, still a little scattered, “bathroom’s right there.”

He nodded once then disappeared inside. The second the door shut, the room exhaled. Kit stood there for a second, then moved again pulling her own clothes out, fingers slightly clumsy now. Her body was catching up. The exhaustion of it all  Inside the bathroom, Jack sat down for a second before moving.

Boots first, them being heavy and wet. He pulled them off slowly, jaw tightening slightly as the motion pulled through his leg—through the familiar ache that never really went away. The pants' cold fabric peeling away from his skin. He exhaled when he was finally free of it. Like he hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing on him. The sweatpants were softer than he expected, he pulled them on, slower now more aware of every movement. By the time he was done, the room felt quieter.

jack quietly open the door not scare her but he opened it a little too soon but kit doesn't notice or chose not to notice as she pulled off her wet sport bra her bare being exposed to him and only in her underwear as she pulls over her head an oversized shirt that is a dress covering It fell past her hips swallowing her whole and everything that he just saw of her. Jack stepped back instantly. Heart kicking a little harder than it should. Hand tightening slightly on the door. “Hey ,” he cleared his throat lightly, knocking against the frame now like he had just arrived.  She turned. Not saying anything like nothing had happened. A small, tired smile pulled at her lips as she ran brush through her hair, trying to work out the knots the rain had left behind. He didn’t know what to do with himself. So he did something simple. He grabbed his clothes then hers. So he has something to do and the movement crossing the space between them. She looked up. “Oh—thank you.” she doesn't even let the chance of jack rebuttal before she takes it from him. Her hand brushing his as she took them. Let her hand linger.  The space between them, In the way neither of them acknowledged it. While he was looking down at her. She didn’t give him time to say anything, didn’t give herself time either. She just turned and walked out and going down the hall and putting the clothes into the dryer. Taking that min to take a breath because unknowing was holding his breath. The hallway felt colder. Kit shoved the clothes into the dryer, hands moving on autopilot as the machine started humming softly. She just stopped, one hand resting against the top of it. She closed her eyes for a second then pushed off heading back. When she walked back into the room, she closed the door behind her. Like she was sealing something in or out she wasn’t sure. Jack was sitting on the bed. Shoulders slightly forward, his hands resting on his thigh. She saw the tension in the way he was holding himself. The way his leg  “Does it hurt?” The question came out before she could stop it. He looked up at her. Just long enough for her to see it, Yeah it did. But he didn’t say it. Just gave her a small, tight smile instead. The kind that said don’t make it a thing. Then he looked back down like that was enough. Kit didn’t push. Didn’t call him on it. She just watched. As he reached down, pulled at the fabric of the sweatpants, without ceremony removing the prosthetic. Setting it carefully beside the bed, like it was nothing. She looked away not because she hadn’t seen it before.

She had, in a space filled with people, in moments that weren’t— This was different. Silence stretched, she let it sit giving him the space.Giving herself the space. Until he looked back up.

She moved slowly around the room, pulling the curtains down one by one as she got closer to the door. The outside world vanished, and shadows began to spread throughout the room until it was completely dark. The streetlights gradually faded away. As she climbed into the bed, she continued to be cautious about her stitches. Observing that the mattress experienced a slight dip as a result of her weight.The silence that was gradually settling in around them. It was impossible for her to stop thinking about it. The door, his hands, and the way everything had shrunk down to just them, as if the rest of the world had been pushed out completely were all examples of this. She wished she could go back in time to that very instant before the knock made its appearance. The harshness of the situation had begun to sink in. She allowed her eyes to close, and as she lay there in the darkness and silence of her room, she was unable to see anything other than the face of the Silhouettes. Her mind began to fill in the blanks without her permission. What would have happened if they hadn't been stopped? Would he have changed his mind? Is it possible that she would have? If one of them had given in and said something about how it was a terrible idea, about how he was her boss, about Dana, or about how they both knew the lines between them were already too thin, would they have reconsidered their decision? Do you think they would have continued? Without a doubt, would it have led here... Is it not the same? That they are more intimate, warmer, and less... uncertain. When she considered the fact that she did not know the answer, she felt a slight tightening in her chest. Perhaps this was the most unfortunate aspect of what could have happened. After a brief pause, the silence between them returned. Simply brimming with things that neither of them were expressing. Kit lay there, where she was close enough to feel the warmth of him, with her hand lightly resting against his chest and her thumb moving slowly back and forth without thinking. She was looking for something to concentrate on when she lay there. His breathing was consistent while he was under her hand. recognizable in a manner that it ought not to have been. The movement of his hand was initially hesitant, but it eventually became confident and settled gently in her hair. His fingers would thread through the damp strands of her hair or slide down her arm in slow, absent strokes. Both of them made no attempt to look at one another. Kit took a gentle swallow, her eyes tracing nothing in the darkness as she did so. This was not how she had envisioned her evening coming to a close. She had never in her life considered that something like this would actually take place. It felt like something she would have made up in her head, some improbable version of events that she would have discarded before allowing herself to believe it could be real.

Abbott looked up at the ceiling, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was going in circles, which he was unable to completely shut off. He was unable to completely shut off his thoughts. This had been something that he had thought about. When he finally reached that point, his breaking point, he doubted himself more than he ought to have about what it would be like to finally reach that point. He wondered more than he should have. How the steps would feel and what they would be like to undertake. As soon as he became aware of it, he came to the realization that it was not what he had anticipated or what he desired to take place because she was not simply... This wasn't so bad after all... A slight tightening of his chest was observed. Due to the fact that she was vulnerable, exhausted, and cracked open in a manner that he had seen earlier in the evening, the very last thing that he desired was for this... for them... to take place. He had witnessed this earlier in the evening. Given that she was not in good health, she required something that was essential for her. He did not intend to take advantage of the fact that he was an escape because he did not want to give himself away. Instead of further blurring that line, which was already blurry, he did not want to do so. He was not interested in doing so. While every part of him had wanted to do it earlier and could still want to do it, despite the fact that he had wanted to do it. As he slowly exhaled, his hand continued to rest against her. This allowed him to establish his foundation in the decision that he had made. In light of the fact that he was in possession of the ability to stop, he would not engage in the activity in question. Even if it resulted in him suffering a demise of sorts. After some time, she was unable to speak because of the silence that surrounded her. In the course of his time spent staring at the ceiling and contemplating everything that was going on in the world

Kit stirred first. Something felt different. Her body shifted slightly, her eyes blinking open in the dark as she rolled onto her other side. The room was still dim from the single light from her alarm clock, still quiet. Her gaze landed on the clock, only a couple hours had passed. Two maybe a little more, it didn’t feel like it. She frowned slightly, still half-asleep, then turned back instinctively to reaching for him, looking for him. The bed was empty, she stilled, blinking for her eyes to adjust again. Trying to make sense of it. But yeah, he was gone, no more warmth from him. Just Empty and the cold of the ghost of him and where he was. She pushed herself up slightly, scanning the room and then she saw it. The pants his pants that he was just in folded neatly at the end of the bed. He had taken the time in no rush out of this place like he had thought about it. Kit sat there for a second. The quiet louder now in the  room his warmth persists and remains. The moment gone, left behind and somehow that felt worse.

chapter 15 part 4: "Kit." While his shirt is being slowly pulled up, you are letting your finger drag across his stomach, and you can feel him shrinking in response to your touch. After that, you are observing him as he lifts it over his head, and when it finally looks at you in a menacing manner, its eyes have darkened, and its head is tilted toward you as if he is going to ravage her. He lowered himself slightly and took a deep breath before grabbing the back of your legs and lifting her up to him. Her legs were rapping around him, and she was straddling his waist. Your hand felt his bare arm, and then it moved to his strong back. Slowly, he moved in order to ensnare her against the wall. When his mouth makes contact with your neck, he gets her sweet spot, and she rolls her eyes and hips as a result of the intense sensation you are experiencing. He brought his hand up to his jaw, and it was steady there. He tilted her head just a little bit, which gave him better access and better control. She is gradually letting out a moaning sound with her breaths. The more he presses his hand against her skin, the more she reacts to him in order to make her feel better. His hand becomes more tightly wrapped around her jaw, and he begins to raise the volume of his humming. She moved her hands over him without thinking, without grasping him, without having any need to feel him in any way. Everything became more constrained.

chapter 15 part 3:

The rain blurred everything. The street, the lights, him and her. Kit felt the water and tears mixing together, running down her face, slipping past her lips, her jaw, her neck. She didn’t wipe them away.

Didn’t try because for once she wasn’t trying to control it. “I don’t—” her voice broke, breath catching hard in her chest. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Her hands came up, pressing against her own ribs like she could hold herself together. “I was never like this,” she said, shaking her head, almost disbelieving herself. “I had it together. I knew how to do this. I knew how to be—” Put together. Her laugh cracked. “And now I don’t even recognize myself.” Her eyes flicked up to him, bloodshot, glassy, completely lost. “It’s been six months and everything just keeps—” she gestured helplessly, “falling apart. And I keep trying to fix it and I can’t—” Her breath hitched again. “I can’t fix it.” Dr. Jack Abbott showed restraint, he just stood there—listening. Let her get it out. Letting her fall apart in a way she clearly hadn’t let herself do in a long time because he knew that look. He had worn it. Too many times. He saw it, that moment the shift in her eyes, confusion turning into something softer, something emptier. Like she had hit the edge of it. The point where she didn’t have anything left to hold onto. He moves in  closer , giving her time to stop him. She accepted him, so he reached for her. The second she crossed that invisible line he pulled her in his chest and wrapped his arm around her, Like if he let go, she’d disappear. If he didn’t hold her together, she wouldn’t stay standing. Her body folded into him like she had been holding herself up for too long. The weight of it—the tension, the fight, the control—just… dropped. He guided them down without thinking, back hitting the wet banister, pulling her with him so she didn’t take the impact. Her face pressed into his chest as the sobs hit, hard, angry, desperate. The kind that tear out of you whether you want them to or not. Abbott’s grip tightened instinctively, one hand at the back of her head, the other wrapped firm around her back, holding her there. Shielding her from everything he could.  His heart was breaking. Not because she was fragile or that she needed fixing. But because he knew exactly what this felt like, that loss of control and the moment where everything catches up at once. Where the walls don’t hold anymore. He had been there on rooftops In the dark alone so many times , has been past the railing looking down ready to jump but still has never done it. He doesn't know why because he is still trying to hold it together until he can't. “Hey…” he murmured, quieter now, his hand moving slowly through her soaked hair. Not rushing her, just there with a steady presence. They stayed like that longer than either of them realized. Rain is still falling, and the city is still moving around them but none of it mattered. He felt her start to shake, not from crying anymore from the cold that had been sitting in.  His hand stilled slightly, then resumed, softer. “Hey…” He leaned down just enough, voice low near her ear. “Where are your keys?” she pulled out of this tight grip just enough to look up at him  “We need to go inside. We can’t stay out here all night.” she slowly nodded reluctantly. Her face is still wet, still flushed but different now. She reached into her pocket with slightly shaky hands and handed him the keys. He gently took them. He stood first, pulling her up with him, most of her weight still leaning into him. They went up the stairs slowly, one of his arms still being around her so she could be tucked in and warm. When they got to her door she just watched him. He didn’t hesitate or even fumble. Like he had done this before or he already knew. The door unlocked.

Chapter 15:

Rain fell in steady sheets on the pavement, transforming the parking lot of the hospital into a haze of reflected lights and distorted shapes. The rain that did not come and go remained heavy and unrelenting throughout the entire day. Just as if it had something to demonstrate. Kit did not expend any effort to wait it out. In a direct manner, she walked into it. There is no umbrella. There was no jacket covering her head, and there was nothing to make it more comfortable. Instantaneously, the cold engulfed her, penetrating her clothing, her hair, and her skin, which was abrasive and unforgiving. She didn't even flinch, though. The only thing that she could think about was getting into the car and trying to drive it in order to get her mind to work. She was unable to really think about anything that was going on. She simply continued walking, and the rain did not pick up speed; rather, it continued to pour steadily. Rather than slowing down, she sped up, and she didn't mind it because it was the first time in the entire day that she could possibly feel something. It's not the young lady. On the stretcher, her body appeared to be in a horrible state. The way that it kept transforming into Amelia each time she blinked was not acceptable. The weight that had been sitting in her chest and had not moved since the sirens had sounded at all. All that is rain... Acute, genuine, and present. As she walked through the shallow puddles, her eyes remained fixed on the ground as she watched the ripples shape themselves in response to each drop of water. Not because she was walking or because of the cold, but because her breathing was heavy. To put it simply, everything was heavy.

They were observing the rain from a secluded corner outside of the ambulance bay where they were hiding. This was not in the plan. It does not exist. This is simply the location that they found themselves in when the shift became too heavy to carry inside. As a result of the rain, the city lights made the skyline appear less distinct. In this location, the noise from the emergency room was so far away and muffled that it was almost as if it did not exist at all. Abbott was leaning against the wall, with his head tilted towards the back of the room. Robby was standing next to him, but not too close. There is never any crowding. Just... up there. Abbott did not look at him as he asked, "How is she doing in the operating room?" after a brief pause. "Didn't know," he responded. "They were able to get her up. By the time they left, vitals were still holding. With his eyes still fixed on the city, Robby gave a single nod. The phrase "that's something" At the same time, Abbott quietly huffed out another beat while running his hand over the back of his neck. "Something," he stated once more. Once more, there was a prolonged period of silence, and then Robby spoke quietly. "You did a good job within that." After a brief pause, Abbott let out a breath that was almost a laugh but was not quite. He mumbled, "Yeah," and then added, "Didn't feel like it right now." Robby gave him a quick glance. When it's a child, it never happens. The muscles in Abbott's jaw contracted slightly, and his eyes shifted downward to the street below. After a brief pause, he proceeded to say, "I saw it in her face." Robby did not inquire as to what he meant because he was already aware of it. Abbott responded by shaking his head and interrupting himself by saying, "She kept looking at that girl like—" "As if she recognised her." An extremely slight change occurred in Robby's expression. "Yeah, that little girl is the same age as Amelia and looked like her too," Robby said after taking a moment to catch his breath. "Dana and I were talking about it because she was even shaken a little bit," Robby continued. Through his nose, Abbott exhaled his breath. It's true. The silence continued, but this time it was more profound because they were both aware of what it meant.

chapter 15 part 2:

Abbott laughed short, dry, defensive. “I’m not doing this with you.” Robby looked at him, “Yeah, you are.” Another pause, longer this time, He could walk away, he should but he didn’t. Abbott stared out at the city again, voice lower now. “…She looked at me like she thought I couldn’t fix it.” Robby didn’t interrupt, didn’t soften it, just let him say it. “And I couldn’t,” Abbott added, quieter. “That’s what’s bothering you?” Abbott shook his head immediately. “No,” he said, then “…Yeah” take a breath “And more.” Robby waited because he knew there was more. Abbott exhaled slowly. “I shouldn’t care this much,” he said finally, there it was. Robby’s expression didn’t change. “About your nurses?” Abbott let out a humorless huff. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Robby nodded once “Yeah,” he said. “I do.” The air shifted. “She’s good,” Abbott said, like he was trying to convince himself. “She’s—she’s really fucking good.”

Robby looks at before saying “I know.” Abbott is too in his head to recognize anything he says. “And she’s—” he stopped, jaw tightening. Robby raised an eyebrow slightly. “She’s what?” Abbott hesitated, which is new to Robby. “…She still cares,” he said finally. Almost like it cost him something to admit it. Robby softened just a fraction. “Yeah.” Abbott shook his head, frustrated now. “Most people lose that,” he added. “They stop seeing it after a while. They stop—feeling it like that.” Robby nodded. “Because it’s easier.” Abbott looked at him again. “I don’t want that to happen to her.”... “she can’t lose it” There it is. Robby held his gaze. “It will,” he said gently. “Unless she leaves.” Abbott’s chest tightened slightly. He didn’t like that answer. “And if she stays?” he asked. Robby didn’t hesitate. “Then she learns how to carry it.” Then Robby looked at Abbott with truthful eyes “Same way you did.” Abbott scoffed quietly. “Yeah. Look how that turned out.” Robby smiled faintly. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re a real mess.” That pulled the smallest breath of a laugh out of Abbott, Just enough. Then Robby added, softer now “You’re not worried about her losing her humanity… You’re worried about what happens when she does.” Abbott didn’t respond, didn't need to because that was exactly it. The rain picked up again light, steady, tapping against the metal railing. Neither of them moved, “You’re in trouble,” Robby said finally, too casually. Abbott rolled his eyes immediately. “Shut up.” Robby just smiled slightly. “Yeah,” he said.

“You are.” and for once Abbott didn’t argue.

Dr. Jack Abbott sat in his car, engine idling. He had just left Robby. Just finishing that crazy fucking conversation in an ass backward way he admitted to robby he feel something toward kit. And he still can't get his mind off the conversation and more importantly her. He was already halfway pulling out when something caught his eye. This person walking in the rain and being soaked to the bone. His brow furrowed slightly, eyes scanning and then he saw her, walking alone, in the rain. Something in his chest dropped. “Jesus…” before he could think about it, he was already moving. His car rolled up beside her, tires hissing against the wet pavement. “Kit—” She didn’t look up, didn’t even slow. He leaned across the seat, pushing the door open slightly. “Get in the car.” Nothing, just the sound of rain. “Kit,” he tried again, sharper now. “Get in.” She shook her head, barely. Still walking. “It’s fine.” Her voice was quiet, flat, distant, not fine. He let the car idle forward beside her, matching her pace now. “No, it’s not fine,” he shot back, frustration bleeding through. “You’re soaked. You’re going to get sick.” She looked at him shaking her head,  “I don’t care.” still walking. The words were wrong. “I do,” he said, faster this time. “Get in the damn car.” She let out a small breath, almost a laugh, but not really. “I just need to walk.” There was something in the way she said it that made him pause. Not her being stubborn or defiant but just… tired she was from everything, Bone-deep. He tried again anyway.“It’s not safe,” he pushed. “It’s late. It’s raining. Dana would kill me if I let you walk home like this.” That got the smallest reaction second guessing her choice—a flicker But she still shook her head. “I’m fine.” and then she waved him off, dismissive and final. Like if she stopped walking even for a second everything would catch up to her. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Now white knuckling it and the it creaking under his hands while watching her for another second, then two. Then exhaled sharply. “Fine.” and drove off. Kit didn’t look back, didn’t check, just kept walking. Counting her steps. Watching the puddles. Letting the rain blur everything just enough that she didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to feel, didn’t have to. She turned the corner and stopped because he was there. Standing on the sidewalk in the rain. No jacket over his head, no car. no cover Just… there. Waiting getting soaked Looking at her like he hadn’t left at all. “What are you doing?” she asked immediately, breath catching slightly. “You don’t— you don’t need to do this.” She stepped closer, shaking her head, already unraveling a little. “You don’t need to take care of me, I’m fine, I live like five minutes from here, I’ll be okay, I don’t need—” Her voice started picking up pace. Tripping over itself. “—you don’t need to be all… whatever this is, I’m not a kid, I don’t need—” He didn’t interrupt, didn’t argue, didn’t push. He just stared at her with something in his expression to stop her rambling. Because he looked… Not frustrated or annoyed, not even stubborn. Simply… weary, gentle, crumpled, and slightly fractured She trailed off slowly, her words catching in her throat. He still looks at her with those deep brown eyes “Is it okay if I walk with you?” He asked, sounding like he about to fall apart 

That was it. No augmenting just them heaving breathing and rain drops coming down, heavy in a way that made it hard to breathe. Kit stared at him in disbelief. Rain dripped from her hair, down her face, mixing with something else she refused to acknowledge because she didn’t understand what he was doing. Why was he here? Why did he look like that? Like this mattered. Like she mattered. She didn’t answer, couldn’t. So instead she turned and started walking again. He took that as a yes. The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was loud. Filled with everything they weren’t saying. Their steps fell into rhythm without trying. Close but not touching, a careful distance. One that felt intentional,  too intentional. The rain came down harder now, bouncing off the pavement, off their shoulders, filling the space between them with white noise. Cars passed occasionally, tires slicing through puddles with a sharp whoosh. But neither of them reacted, neither of them spoke. Kit was hyper-aware of how close he was or the way his shoulder brushed just barely within reach. Her body felt like it was vibrating under her skin and not from the cold from him. Abbott, he didn’t know what to do with this, how to fix it, to make it better. All he knew was he couldn't leave her like that. They reached her street too fast and Kit was already climbing the steps to her townhouse, pausing at the top before turning back toward him. Seeing him just standing there in the rain having a war with himself.  She snapped after seeing him like this “Why?” The word came out sharper than she meant it to. “Just—why are you doing this?” Her hands came up, frustrated, overwhelmed, everything spilling out at once. “Why me? What is this? Why are you soaked right now—because of me?” Her voice cracked slightly. “Why did you even come this way? I know you don’t live over here.” Her breathing was uneven now. “Do I look that broken to you? Like I need—saving or something?” She laughed, but it wasn’t real. “Because I don’t. I don’t need that. I don’t need you to—” She cut herself off, shaking her head then walked down to the last step of her porch right in front of him, But it didn’t stop talking, rambling, whatever she was doing, she couldn’t.

“Why are you like this right now—and then tomorrow you’ll go right back to being cold? Like nothing ever happened? Like I imagined all of it?” Her voice got quieter. More frantic. “I feel like I’m in a fucking movie right now just—rambling to you like this and I can’t even—” She dragged a hand through her hair, breath catching. “I can’t even get one thought out straight.” Then there was silence, not the rain , and the cars are still passing by and life of the city is still moving and the only thing she can focus on is her chest rising and falling too fast. Abbott didn’t move right away, didn’t shut her down. Once he thought it was ok he stepped closer just one step, careful and measured. “Kit…” Her name came out softer than anything she had ever heard from him. Him bring a not a doctor or her boss just Him. him putting one hand out and putting on her cheek for a breath. “You don’t look broken.” accepting the challenge  “You look like someone who had a really fucking hard day.” Her breath hitched. “And I’m not—” he exhaled, shaking his head slightly, searching for words he clearly wasn’t used to saying out loud. “I’m not trying to fix you.” Another step closer. “I just didn’t want you to be alone.” That struck with greater force than any other words he might have chosen because that’s exactly what she had been trying to be, alone.

Another day shift that everyone is talk way to much and people are still coming 

Chapter 14:

Kit should’ve known the second she walked in that it wasn’t going to be a normal shift. She really should’ve because nothing about the ER ever stayed normal for long. It is the first day back since you got hurt and you should probably be back soon but you hate sitting at home and doing nothing . She stepped through the ambulance bay doors with Summer beside her, both of them juggling coffee carriers and bags of pastries, the early morning air still clinging to them. “For the record,” Summer muttered, shifting the tray in her hands, “this is above and beyond.” Kit laughed lightly. “You say that every time.” summer just rebutted “Because every time I mean it.” They barely made it three steps inside before chaos hit. “Kit—are those for us?” people say from all around you “Oh my god is that coffee—” a different voice so fast that I can't recognize some of them  “Don’t you dare take all the muffins—” Hands were everywhere. People swarming, grabbing, and stealing, Kit barely had time to laugh before half of what she was holding was gone. “Hey—hey!” she tried, smiling anyway. “There’s more—relax! At least bring it to the break room”  Dr. Abbott appeared like he always did, out of nowhere but somehow exactly where he needed to be, already reaching for one of the coffee cups like he belonged in the middle of it. “Tell me there’s more in the car,” he said, glancing down at what little was left in her hands. Kit huffed out a laugh. “There is much more in the car.” He directed his body and arms for you to lead the way to go outside “Good,” he nodded, already turning. “Let’s go.” you said. They walked back out together, Summer trailing behind them, the early morning quieter out here—just the hum of engines and distant voices. Kit popped the tailgate of her truck, revealing the rest of it.

Boxes. Bags. Way too much. The back of the truck was packed to the brim, pastries stacked in uneven piles, coffee carriers wedged between everything like a disaster waiting to happen if someone slammed the tailgate too hard. Abbott stopped for half a second when he saw it. Actually stopped, Brows lifting slightly, a quiet huff of amusement slipping out of him. “Woah,” he said, taking it in, eyes dragging over the truck before flicking back to her. “I didn’t know this was your beauty.” Then, a beat… “Who knew you drove the prettiest truck in Pitt.” Kit lit up immediately and got gitty, It was instant, unfiltered. Her hand came up without thinking, resting against the side of it like she was grounding herself to it—like she always did. Like she was proud. Which she was. “Oh yeah,” she said easily, a small grin pulling at her lips. “That’s my little side project.” She glanced at it, then back at him. “I fixed her up myself. While I was home one summer before I moved to New York.” Abbott’s eyebrow lifted just slightly higher. He stepped a little closer now, not even pretending he wasn’t curious, eyes tracing over the details—the paint, the wear, the little things most people wouldn’t notice. “You fixed it up yourself?” he repeated. Kit nodded, shrugging one shoulder like it wasn’t a big deal—even though it was. “Yeah. It took the whole summer. My brother helped a little, but…” she smirked, “mostly me.” She gave the side of the truck a small pat. “She’s my baby.” Something in his expression shifted. Subtle, barely there but it was enough. Like he was thinking about something too hard… something he didn’t want to say out loud. “Didn’t picture that,” he muttered, almost under his breath. Kit caught it anyway, of course she did. She turned her head slightly, watching him now, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “What,” she said, tilting her head just a little, “you thought I drove something boring?” He glanced at her again and this time it lingered a second longer. “No,” he said, quieter now. Softer. “Not boring.” The way he said it didn't feel like he was talking about the truck anymore. Summer clapped her hands once, loud enough to cut straight through it.

“Okay!” she said brightly. “I’m going to head back to the coffee shop if you got this covered.” Kit blinked, snapping out of it like she’d been caught somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. “Yeah,” she said quickly. “I think we got it from here. Thanks again.” Abbott nodded, stepping back slightly, but not fully. “Seriously—thank you,” he added, more genuine than usual, bringing his hands together in a mock prayer. “You’re a lifesaver.” Summer grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. “I will remember that next time I’m in trouble, Dr. Abbott.” Then she turned to Kit, pulling her into a quick hug but not before leaning in just enough to whisper “I’m watching this.”and then winked. Kit immediately smacked her arm. “Oh my god—go.” Summer laughed, already walking away, leaving Kit standing there, way too aware of him still right beside her.

They grabbed the rest together, carrying everything back inside and the whole time he kept glancing at her. Not obvious but enough that she noticed and it lingered under her skin. By the time everything was dropped off in the break room, the chaos had settled into something manageable again. Abbott went off to finish up his round before going home and Kit was heading to put down her stuff. She barely made it to her locker and didn't even get the door fully open before she was yanked, hard. “What the—” losing her balance and almost falling and the stairwell door slammed behind her. She looked up and there was Gabbie. Breathing heavy, eyes wide, looking like she had been waiting. “What the hell was that for?” Kit snapped, pulling her arm back. Gabbie didn’t answer right away, just stared at her. “What the hell is going on between you and Abbott?” Kit blinked. “What?” Silence then “I truly don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kit said, slower this time. “There is nothing going on.” Gabbie gave her a *bitch, please* look. “Come on,” she said, crossing her arm across her chest. “You cannot hide that from me anymore.”

Kit frowned. “Hide what?” Gabbie stepped closer and lowered her voice so know one else will hear her 

“Okay. I watched him follow you home one night after work .” Kit froze. Kit knew nothing about this but Gabbie kept going.“He lives in the complete opposite direction, Kit.” Her stomach dropped. “And I was not the only one who saw the way he put his hand on your back at the bar?” Gabbie continued. “You think that was subtle? Because it wasn’t.” More aggressive now her heart started beating faster. “And today? The way he immediately followed you out to your car?” A beat and another one  “And don’t even get me started on the flowers.” Kit’s head snapped up. “What— did Dana tell you that she think it was him?” Gabbie cut in. “yeah Dana has been asking me all about it this last week, You thought no one was going to notice that?” Silence. “And ALSO—” Gabbie added, eyes narrowing, “you didn’t tell me you swiped on him on Hinge??” you get whiplash from all the caught off guard moments. “Oh my god— who told you” kit mind racing now because everything is getting thrown in your face “How could you not tell me that?” Kit just stood there, speechless because she had pushed all of it away to never think about it too deeply and now. She is thinking about every single piece, the park, the ambulance bay, the bar, the rooftop, the flowers, the stairwell, the special treatment and small touches. She hadn’t let herself think about it. Now it was all right here. “Gabbie,” she said finally, shaking her head slightly. “I truly don’t know anything.” She meant that, in a way. “I think he’s just… being nice.” Gabbie stared at her like she was insane. “Nice?” Kit nodded quickly, clinging to it. “Yeah. He’s probably only like that because Dana would literally kill him if he did anything to me.” That part at least felt safe. “And Robby’s the same way,” she added. “So I don’t think it’s anything.” Gabbie didn’t look convinced at all. Kit reached out, patting her shoulder lightly. “I will have you over tonight we will talk everything ok” then making sure she takes this and stops talking about it right now  “Trust me,” she said softer. “If anything was going on… I will tell you.” A beat. “I promise.” Gabbie searched her face then finally exhaled. “…Okay.” uncrossing her arms and Kit nodded once. “Good. Now let’s go back to work before someone actually notices we disappeared.” She grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. To only have both of them walk back into the noise of the ER. But it didn’t go away, the feeling of awareness because the rest of the day she felt eyes on her. Glances, People noticing. 

Later, somewhere in the middle of the shift, when things finally slowed just enough to breathe, Kit found herself leaning against the nurses’ station beside Javadi. It wasn’t a real break. It never was, just a pause between patients. Between chaos. Javadi was pretending to chart, pen hovering over the screen more than actually typing, her focus clearly somewhere else. “…So what do I do?” she finally asked, glancing over. Kit looked at her, already knowing exactly where this was going. “About Mateo?” Javadi sighed, dropping her head back slightly. “Yeah.” There was a beat, “He’s on nights now,” she added, quieter. “We barely even see each other anymore and when we do it’s like… five seconds in passing.” She frowned. “And I don’t know if I’m supposed to say something or just… leave it.” Kit shifted her weight, thinking. “You don’t leave it,” she said simply. Javadi blinked. “That fast?” Kit shrugged lightly. “Yeah. If you like him, you don’t just let it disappear because your schedules suck.” Javadi studied her. “Okay… so what do I do then?” Kit huffed a small laugh, glancing down at the counter. “Make it intentional,” she said. “Text him. Ask him to grab food after your shift one day. Or coffee before his. It doesn’t have to be a big thing—just… don’t let it turn into nothing because it’s easier.” Javadi nodded slowly, taking that in. “…You’re really good at this,” she said after a second. Kit paused “What?”, Javadi tilted her head slightly, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Like… advice. Reading people. All of it.” A beat. Then, teasing just slightly—“You probably had, like, a lot of boyfriends or something.” That made Kit let out a quiet breath. Not quite a laugh, Something softer. “…Not exactly,” she said. Javadi’s expression shifted immediately, the teasing dropping as she realized she might’ve stepped into something. “I mean sorry, I didn’t—” I cut her off. She doesn't spiral “It’s fine,” in a gentle tone, shaking her head. There was a small pause. Then, without really planning to, she added “I had one.” Javadi stayed quiet, listening.

“He just…” Kit shrugged, trying to keep it light even if it didn’t fully land. “I thought I was supposed to fit into this version of his life. Like—perfect, easy, no complications.” A small breath. “And when I didn’t… that was kind of it.” Javadi’s face softened instantly. “That’s… shitty.” Kit gave a half-smile. “Yeah.” Now more quietly,  “I’m sorry,” Javadi said. Kit shook her head again, this time a little firmer. “No—don’t be,” she said. “It’s fine.” and she meant it. “It just means I know what it looks like when something’s actually worth going for,” she added, glancing back at her. “So don’t overthink it with Mateo.” Javadi watched her for a second longer, then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Yeah… okay.” A small pause. Then “…Thanks.” Kit smiled, softer this time. “Anytime.” Then Santos and Whittaker walk over with some charts for us and even Santos must have heard the rumor or was a part of the conversation with Dana. Santos leaned against the counter, watching her with that knowing smirk. “Oh—careful,” she said casually as Kit passed. “Wouldn’t want to get caught walking too close to certain attendings.” Kit didn’t even break stride. “Oh my god, shut up,” she shot back, already grabbing a chart. Santos just grinned wider. Javadvi snorted somewhere behind her “Oh, it’s like that?” she added. Kit paused then slowly turned back toward them, one brow lifting just slightly. “Mm,” she hummed, pretending to think for a second. Then she smiled, “Oh, I don’t know,” she said lightly. “I’m not the one making out with Dr. Garcia at the bar like it’s a full-time job.” Silence a beat, Javadi choked immediately. “Oh my—” Santos whipped around. “Are you serious right now—” you smirked at her and chuckled under your breath “hey you want to play that game” Whittaker, from across the station, lit up. “WAIT—no, we’re talking about this.” Kit just shrugged, completely unbothered, turning back to her chart. “I have eyes,” she added simply. “Shut up,” Santos snapped, pointing at her. The attention shifted to Dana yelling at them saying how social hour is over. “Someone coming in” and then slapping the table before turning away and yelling out to the main area so everyone can hear. 

Dana’s voice is sharp and commanding “Incoming pediatric fall—four stories. Trauma 1 is open.”

Everything snapped, no hesitation, no questions, just movement. The shift hadn’t even fully turned over yet. Day shift still charting. Night shift just clocking in. Half the team in between—bags dropped, jackets half off, conversations unfinished. Kit barely had time to pull fresh gloves on before the ambulance doors burst open. The stretcher flew in. Taking a second her brain processes what she sees because the girl was too small. Too small for the size of the stretcher. Too small for the amount of blood. Too small for how wrong everything looked. Her mind looks at her and makes resemblance to Amelia, the same brown hair, the smallness of her, the softness in her face. Enough for Kit’s chest to tighten and make her breath out a breathy grunt before she could think, past it. People started yelling out things, “Airway compromised,” Dr. Ellis called immediately, already at the head of the bed. Robby and King moved in sync at her sides, hands assessing, eyes scanning fast. Ellis was already trying to control the airway, voice sharp but steady. Dana cut through clothing, scissors flashing under the trauma lights.

“Collapsed lung—left side,” Robby called. “Get a chest tube ready.” The monitor screamed, heart rate climbing too fast, too erratic. Jesse called out vitals over the noise. Princess and Perlah moved fast—IV access, meds, pushing everything they could. Javadi was already at the leg, stabilizing carefully. “Possible displaced femur fracture,” she muttered. “Watch for internal bleeding.” Robby responded to javadi. Dana moved toward the parents that were in the room, her voice controlled, grounding. “Stay with me—we’re working on her—we’ve got her—” Kit forced herself to move, not think, just moving. She grabbed the BVM, setting up tubing, hands steady even as her chest felt too tight. Because every time she looked… She kept seeing Amelia. Same size, same small face same… No, not now.

“How long without oxygen?” someone asked. No one answered because no one knew and there was no time to figure it out. Abbott walks in, in his regular street clothes. He wasn’t even supposed to be here but instinct didn’t care about schedules. He stepped in like he had been there the whole time. Eyes immediately locking on the neck. “Ok it looks like cervical spondylolisthesis,” he said, already moving. “We need to realign now if we want the airway.” Everything tightened because one wrong move and it was over. Dana starts taking the parent outside and explaining to them what happened. He removed the collar, Carefully. Hands steady as he took control of her head, spreading his finger around her head and neck to get a good hold, aligning her neck with precision that came from muscle memory and something deeper. The room went quieter, not actually quieter but focused. Every eye on him, every breath held for him. He adjusted, measured then, a controlled pull. The airway opened.“We’re intubating now.” Kit was already there, ready to bag. To breathe for her, holding the rhythm. Abbott moved fast, securing the tube, replacing the collar once everything was stable. “Tube’s in.” Kit connects the BVM to the tube before squeezing it slowly and she sees the chest rising. Abbott dropped into a squat down near the head wound, just right below Kit, gloved hands pressing firm against the bleeding. “We’ve got a cranial fracture,” he said, already working. Blood soaked through the gauze too fast. He adjusted pressure, and putting new gauze on it because they keep getting soaked, but didn't stop moving. “Stay with me, kid,” he muttered… low, fast, almost under his breath. Kit didn’t know if it was for the girl or for himself. Everything blurred seconds stretching then snapping back, chest tube placed, Air moving. Vitals still bad but good enough to move her  The OR attending stepped in, getting a rapid report of injuries, interventions, everything they had done in the last few minutes that felt like hours. Eventually someone took over for the BVM to go up with her. Kit stepped away toward the bin getting ready to take off her gloves then  she heard over her shoulder. “We’re moving her to OR now.” Just like that, they were rolling again, pushing the stretcher out. No guarantee or certainty that she will be ok Just the fragile line they had managed to hold.

It was over, Just like that, no countdown. No moment to process it, just… over. The room emptied in pieces, like it always did after something like that. Gloves snapped off with sharp, practiced movements. Gowns peeled away and dropped into bins. The sound of it—latex, plastic, metal trays shifting—filled the space where chaos had just lived seconds ago. People stepped back into themselves. Back into roles. Back into the shift. Someone was already asking about the next patient. Someone else was wiping down the bed like it hadn’t just held a life hanging by a thread. Voices picked back up, quieter now, but steady. Functional. Like nothing had just almost been lost. Kit didn’t move, not right away. She stood there for a second too long, Zoned out. Her hands came up behind her head, fingers interlocking, elbows wide, like she was trying to hold something in place that wasn’t there anymore. Like she was bracing, her breathing felt off. Too shallow. Too aware. Because her body had stopped but her mind hadn’t. It kept going, replaying, and rebuilding the scene over and over again. Every time, it wasn’t that girl, It was Amelia on that bed.  She swallowed, forcing her eyes to blink, trying to ground herself in what was actually in front of her, Not what her brain was turning it into, around her, the ER picked back up.

Like it always did, machines reset. New charts opened. Someone laughed at something stupid down the hall like the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. Like they didn’t just fight to keep a kid alive. Kit finally exhaled. Forcing her shoulders to drop and her hands down from her head. Pulling herself back together piece by piece, because that’s what you did here. You didn’t get to stay in it. You didn’t get to fall apart. You just moved on. “Abbott brought in deli sandwiches if you want some.” Santos’ voice came from her left, flat, monotone like always, already falling into step beside her as they started walking toward the lockers. Kit didn’t even look at her. Just kept walking, shook her head once, No. She couldn’t even think about food right now. Everything in her felt heavy. Drained. Hollowed out in a way that only came after something like that. They walked in silence for a few steps before Santos peeled off, already distracted by something else. Kit didn’t notice she just kept moving, autopilot down the hall, into the locker room.

The door swung shut behind her, cutting off the noise just enough. Not quiet but quieter. She made it to her locker, fingers fumbling slightly with the lock before it finally clicked open. She stared at it for a second. Like she forgot what she came here for then she moved, slow and mechanical, scrubs off. Tossed into the locker. Shoes kicked off without care. Pulling the legging I have out of my locker like they are 1000 pounds and putting them on with my left leg and then right being a zombie until they are up fully. To only do the same for the oversized sweatshirt and feel like you are reborn when your head goes through the head.  She caught her reflection in the mirror for half a second. Hair is a mess, Face pale Eyes suck in like she hasn't slept for 5 days. Too tired that she looked away before she could think about it. The door opened again behind her, Kit heard the swing, the hinges of the door grinding. She  looked back toward it, to see who it was and it was Dana. They didn't say anything. She zipped her bag, grabbed her stuff, and moved for the door before Dana even got halfway through changing. Dana glanced up just in time to catch the tail end of her. “Kit—?” But she was already gone. Out the door, down the hall, and out of the ER. Before anyone could stop her. Before anyone could ask.

Before she had to say out loud… That for a second in that room… She thought she was losing Amelia.

Delivery 

Chapter 13:

Two weeks. That’s how long you’d been away from the ER. Two weeks of being told to rest. To heal, do not think about the way your body still remembers the chaos of that night. The blood, the pressure, the way his hands hadn’t left you until you were safe.  Two weeks of trying not to think about him. Which, of course meant you thought about him constantly. So you did what you always did when things got too loud in your head. You showed up. Ten pizzas might have been excessive. Okay—no, they were definitely excessive. But you didn’t care, If you were going back in there—even just to visit—you weren’t doing it quietly. The ambulance bay was packed, ambulances lined up, chaos spilling in and out of the doors, paramedics moving fast enough that you knew better than to even try squeezing through. So instead you turned and walked straight into the waiting room Arms full of pizza boxes stacked so high you could barely see over them. “Jesus—Kit?” Michelle’s voice came from the front desk. You grinned. “Hey. Can you let me in before I drop all of this and embarrass myself?” She was already moving, laughing. “Yeah, yeah—come on.” The second the doors opened it was like you hadn’t been gone at all. You were in there long before Mateo blinked. “What the—” Then he grabbed a few, stepping forward and that’s when he saw you. His entire face lit up. “Kit!” Erica wasn’t far behind, both of them immediately pulling you into the room like you might disappear if they didn’t hold onto you. “Kit’s here!” Mateo yelled to everyone and  “And she brought pizza!” Heads snapped up Voices overlapped, “Holy shit—” someone else saying “Kit?!” then another person said “Is that—pizza?!” And then they were all moving, Toward you. You barely had time to set the boxes down before people were hugging you, grabbing at your arms, talking over each other. The reaction was instant, People getting up like you had just handed them a winning lottery ticket instead of carbs and grease. Gabbie slid up beside you, arms crossed, smirking. “You know you’re becoming the food person, right?” she said. “Like this is your thing now.” You laughed. “I would be very excited for that title instead of something bad.” She snorted. “Oh, we can still give you a bad one if you want.” You bumped her shoulder lightly, shaking your head.

God, you missed this place sometimes.

You found Dr. Robby not long after, leaning against the counter like he always did when things slowed just enough to breathe. “Hey,” he said, easy, like you hadn’t scared the absolute shit out of everyone two weeks ago. “Hey, how are you?” You fell into conversation naturally about the floor, about how things had been, At one point, you shifted and started talking about his bike. You too have the common ground of fixing up old vehicles. “Are you still working on it?” you asked. “Trying to,” he said. “The thing’s being stubborn.” You grinned. “If you ever need help transporting it, you’ve got my truck.” He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Well, ain't I lucky — I got two of you now.” You frowned slightly. “Two of—”

Then robby cut you off and nogged his head behind you “And speak of the devil.” You turned to see and there he was Dr. Jack Abbott himself. Mid-argument with Gloria, something sharp and controlled in the way he was standing, shoulders tight, jaw set, Work mode fully. But when he saw you, he noticed and everything shifted. He kept flickering His attention back toward you once then again, Like he couldn’t help it. The conversation with Gloria wrapped faster than it probably should have. And the second he could, he moved right toward you. Robby smirked slightly beside you. “Kit got us pizza. It’s in the break room if you want some.” Abbott glanced at him—then at you, and something in his expression softened. “That’s very nice of you,” he said charmingly. Maybe too charming for you to handle,  You tried not to react to it but Failed. Blushing ever so slightly and smiling a little bit. “No problem, I just know how to help this place run” The conversation stayed group-based for a while. Slowly it transitioned to conversation, me staying something to abbott and then it turned back toward robby and collins and they were walking away talking about the patients that they are treating. 

You looked back at Dr. Jack Abbott and slowly, without really deciding to, you started moving. At first, it didn’t feel like anything. Just one step then another and suddenly you were side by side. You didn’t even notice when it happened. Didn’t clock the moment your body just… fell into pace with him, it was so natural. Like it had always been like that there was never a time they did know how the other body operated. Neither of you spoke at first. The noise of the ER faded just enough behind you, still there, still loud, but not here. Not in the space between you. The silence wasn't awkward, which is worse. Because it gave you too much time to think. Too much time to replay everything—the last shift, the stairwell, the way he looked at you, the way he still looked at you. You kept your eyes forward. Trying to think of something normal to say, something safe. Something that didn’t sound like your heart wasn’t beating just a little too fast. “So,” you finally said, glancing at him, “what are you doing here two hours before your shift?” He huffed quietly beside you, one hand brushing the back of his neck like the answer annoyed him just as much as the situation. “Meeting. Gloria. Patient satisfaction numbers, budget issues, policies…” he trailed off, rolling his eyes slightly. “All the fun shit.” You winced, a small smile tugging at your lips but biting it before it could come out. “Oh, that sucks.”… “Yeah,” he muttered.

And then silence again, a few more steps, neither of you rushed to fill it. Which somehow made it heavier. You swallowed slightly. Then, softer “Thank you for the flowers. They were really nice.” That got his attention, fully. He turned his head just enough to look at you, not quick, not casual. Like he was trying to read something you weren’t saying out loud. you felt it, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long. You kept your expression steady or tried to. “I hope I got them right,” he said after a beat. “I overheard you talking to Gabbie about your favorite.” Your cheeks warmed instantly, Damn it. “You got it right,” you said quickly—too quickly. “But you didn’t have to do that.” A small pause. Your fingers flexed slightly at your side. “Especially after the last time we “”talked“”——” you added, lifting your hands in small air quotes, “—I yelled at you when I was out of line.” 

“I deserved that,” he said, "No hesitation, No deflection. Your brows pulled together slightly. “No, you didn’t—” he cut in, “Yeah,” quieter now, but firmer. “I did.” A beat His gaze didn’t leave yours. “I was an ass,” he added bluntly. “Well… I wasn’t exactly nice either,” you admitted. His mouth twitched slightly, not quite a smile but close. “I can handle the not nice you,” he said. “What I can’t handle is you thinking you were wrong for saying it.” That landed, you didn’t know what to do with that. So you deflected of course you did. “Wow,” you muttered lightly. “That almost sounded like emotional growth, Dr. Abbott.”

That did it, A real smile this time Slow, Crooked, Dangerous in the way it always was. “Careful,” he said, stepping just a fraction closer again. “You keep talking like that, I might start thinking you like me.” you shut down afraid to say anything else because she doesn't want to expose anything and abbott observe the change in you.

He stopped walking which made you slow down and stop a few steps in front of him. You can tell that he was looking around to see if anyone would notice him being very alert of everything. He decided that it was ok and turned sharply. You barely had time to react before he grabbed your hand softly as he could so he could move me and he pulled you with him into the stairwell. The door shut behind you and suddenly it was quiet. We were alone in our own little bubble from the hospital, he got down low to your eye level so he would know you could hear him. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer, voice lower now. “I am truly sorry. About everything. How I handled it. The way I talked to you.” You blinked because this wasn’t the version of him you were used to. “That was the second time in less than a week I got mad at people for something they didn’t do,” he continued, running a hand through his hair. “First at you. Then everyone else after you got hurt.” A small, humorless huff. “Apparently I’m on a streak.” You softened slightly. “I’m serious,” he added, stepping closer again. “I need someone to call me out. And you did. So… thank you.” There it was, that raw edge he didn’t show anyone else.And then you realized How close you were. He leaned in slightly. One hand coming to your waist, steadying you or maybe steadying himself, you didn’t know, didn’t care. My skin is super sensitive when he is around and right now it feels like my skin is burning where his fingers are touching my skin. I was counting them so I calmed myself and then his voice dropped right near your ear. “How are you?” You swallowed, your breath catching slightly as you answered. “I’m fine,” you said, softer now. “No pain. I should be back next week.” Your hand moved without thinking. Resting my hand lightly on his bicep, the one connected to my waist, so I can get more balance or the sense of it. Feeling his soft shirt, a barrier, Thin one but one I need. He looked at you like he was losing a fight he didn’t want to win. His jaw tightened, and his grip on your hip just barely firming. Leaning just a little bit further, I could feel his breath on your lips and  you look at him seeing him licked his lip then you make eye contact for a beat.

for a second…

You thought… 

But then he stepped back like he forced himself to. Like every inch of distance he put between you cost him something. You felt it, the physical shift in the air with him gone.  Like whatever had been holding you steady just left. Your breath hitched without meaning to. Chest tightening in a way that didn’t make sense or maybe it did. You looked up at Jack…No, Dr. Abbott…  And saw it.  The change. The softness was still there but buried now and now controlled. Pushed down under something sharper. Safer. Professional. Like he had just slammed a door shut inside himself. “I’ll see you next week then,” he said. Still soft but there was something strained in it now. Like the words didn’t come easy, he didn’t want them to be the last thing he said. And just like that, the moment ended. He turned Walked back into the ER. Didn’t look back and you didn’t move. You were still pressed lightly against the wall where he had you. Like your body hadn’t caught up yet, it didn’t realize he was gone. The stairwell still felt different. Charged, the air thicker than it should’ve been, like it was holding onto something you couldn’t quite name. You rolled your head back slowly, letting it rest against the wall. Eyes drifting up to the ceiling, pupils blown and your breathing heavier than it should’ve been. You just stood there… Stunned.

“What the fuck was that…” you muttered under your breath. Because it wasn’t just a moment. It wasn’t just tension or flirting. It was something else, it sat heavier in your chest, you didn’t know what to do with it. You let yourself stay there for a second. Let your breathing even out, your heart settle just enough that you could think straight again. Because you weren’t ready to move. Not yet. You weren’t ready to walk back into the ER like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t just been that close. Because even standing there, even surrounded by everyone, you could still feel him. The ghost of his hand at your waist. The way his voice dropped just for you. The way he looked at you like he was trying not to cross a line and failing.

Because this wasn’t just flirting anymore and you both knew it.

Sunday Dinner

Chapter 12:

The house smelled like home before you even stepped inside. Warm, rich, familiar Dana’s cooking always had a way of settling something deep in your chest before you even realized it needed settling. The kind of smell that made you exhale a little slower, shoulders dropping, the noise in your head dimming just enough. “Kitchen,” Dana called the second the door shut behind you. “Don’t even think about sitting down.” You smiled despite yourself, already slipping off your shoes and heading straight for her. “I wouldn't dream of it.” The kitchen was exactly opposite of what you expected, complete chaos. Dana knows how to run a hospital but not a kitchen at all. Pots going, oven open, something simmering on the stove. You slid right into it like muscle memory, grabbing a knife and starting to chop without even asking what needed to be done. “Careful,” Dana said, not even looking at you. “You’re not exactly at full capacity.” you look at her cooking “I’m fine,” you muttered, softer this time. Not as convincing.

Before she could argue “Kit!” And then suddenly Small arm, fast and crashing into you. “Whoa—hey!” you laughed, putting the knife down immediately as Amelia barreled into you, wrapping herself around your thigh like she hadn’t seen you in years. You didn’t even think about it. You scooped her up, spinning her once, twice, the sound of her giggles filling the kitchen “Put her down!” Dana snapped instantly. “You can pop a stitch—both of you! Jesus—after everything for gods sake—” You froze mid-spin, immediately lowering Amelia back onto her feet, hands still hovering around her like you weren’t fully ready to let go. “Sorry,” you said toward Dana, but you were still smiling. Amelia didn’t care. She was already tugging on your shirt. “Look,” she said, pointing to her face, turning her head just enough so you could see it. The cut is still there. Still healing, a little angry-looking along her skin.

You think for a second and then  “Hey,” you said softly, still crouched down in front of her after putting her down. “You know what?” You lifted your shirt just slightly, careful, showing her your own. “Me too.” Her eyes went wide and for a second I thought she was scared. “You have one too?” but she wasn't. “Yeah,” you nodded. “We match.” Her whole face lit up. “Look at auntie Dana we are matching” then she looks at me “but I like yours better.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Mine’s definitely worse.” the cut taking up most of her stomach and it is still very fresh looking.  “No,” she said firmly, already grabbing your hand. “We’re the same.” and that just made me smile 

By the time everything started settling into place, the house was full. Voices overlapping, laughter bouncing off the walls, people moving in and out of rooms like it had always been this way. You ended up in the living room with the kids, your cousins half-curled into the couch while they filled you in on everything you had missed. And apparently you had missed a lot. “No, I’m telling you,” Winnie said, leaning in closer, “he literally ghosted her and then liked her Instagram story the next day.” which is a crazy drama happening in their friend group  “Absolutely not,” the other one Lily cut in. “That’s criminal behavior.” You snorted. “That’s just modern dating.” They all groaned. “Don’t say that like you participate,” one of them pointed at you. “You don’t date.” you started. “I do—” they quickly and ruthlessly cut you off  “No, you don’t.” you admitted “…Okay, I don’t,” and they laughed at you 

And then their eyes dropped “hey at least you have an excuse now” lily said which Winnie hit her on the arm telling her that is not nice and then ask  “how is it … your cut,” softer now. “Does it hurt?” and look like she doesn't know if she had brought it up “Only when I move,” you shrugged trying not to make it a big deal and that it was ok that they ask “Dana was insane when she got the call,” Lily added quickly trying to lighten up the moods. “She woke everyone up—like actually yelling—” them leaning in so Dana doesn't hear us talking about her  “She was dressed in like thirty seconds,” chiming in and going back and forth. “Didn’t even match her shoes.” You smiled a little at that and yea tracked. “And—” leaning in even more, a grin creeping back on Lily's face, “ok you need to tell us if any of the doctors or med students are hot there?” Winnie added “we only know about the old guys who are ugly so please tell me there are so hot guys”  You rolled your eyes immediately. “No.” Maybe a little too fast because your brain didn’t cooperate. It went straight to him the way he looked at you. “…No,” you repeated, quieter this time. They didn’t notice and they didn't care because I had no juicy gossip for them. I mean they are just like their mom in that way. They were already onto the next thing.

Your mom arrived late, of course she did with Suitcase still in hand, hair a little messy from travel, but somehow still looking put together in a way you would never understand. You get up to meet her “Hi, baby,” she said the second she saw you, pulling you into a hug before you could even react. It had been a while for them. I believe that it was six months since you’d seen her, three since you’d actually talked on the phone last. I mean with our Schedules and the different Time zones and Life. It got away and we were never a big communication family so it was nothing new. But she still knows everything “so I have heard,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Let me see.” you annoyed from this interaction already and you want it to end  You sighed but lifted your shirt slightly again. She looked at it with a little bit of Discuss and frowned. “Oh that ugly” then shake her head and grabbed my shoulder “You’re okay?” automatically you say “I’m fine,” with a whatever voice and she didn’t look convinced but she nodded anyway and walked past you and moved into the kitchen to say hello to everything else because that's what your family does, by the time it was dinner it was loud, messy and Perfect. Like old times when I was kid Bowls passed around, bread torn apart, people talking over each other, laughing too hard at things that weren’t even that funny. Dana’s beef stew was exactly how you remembered it, rich, warm, and comforting. Brittany tried out a new sourdough recipe that she was telling me about. “Okay,” you said after the first bite, eyes widening slightly. “This is actually insane.”she grinned. “I told you,” you put your head more forward and give a little shake “You did not emphasize enough.” Laughter broke out again. The Conversation started, them getting intertwined, and then rearing going off again, Stories turned into teasing, teasing into funny arguments that didn’t mean anything, and at some point Someone laughed so hard that they cried And which made it worse. So everyone was crying from laughter 

After dinner, you stayed back with Dana in the kitchen, putting things away. At some point, music came on. At some point, she grabbed your hand and spun you once between the counter and the sink. “Careful,” you laughed. “You’re going to pop my stitch now.” she shot back. “Worth it,” And for a second it felt easy. Until your mom walked in, just like that Shift, Subtle, but there. “So,” she started casually, leaning against the counter. “When are you going to start dating?” You froze for half a second “I — what?”she continued, “You’re not getting any younger,” like it was nothing. “Your sister already has someone. And she’s in Germany—” That made your head snap up. “She what?” look at her wait for the answer “She’s serious about him,” your mom nodded. “They’re talking about the future. Marriage, maybe. She only has a year left, and then she’ll come home, start working with your father, and—”

You pressed your lips together and then nodded my head slowly gathering all this information because this was new, all of it. And you knew exactly where this was going. “And you,” she added gently, “you should think about that too.” You inhaled slowly and bit your tongue because anything you said right now would not come out right. “Hey,” Dana cut in smoothly, stepping between you without making it obvious. “She just got stabbed at work. Maybe let’s not plan her wedding tonight.” Your mom huffed a little but she backed off. Dana leaned closer to you, just slightly, whispering something under her breath “Give me five minutes and I’ll make up a fake boyfriend with a tragic backstory. She’ll eat it up.”that made you huff out a quiet laugh despite yourself. “She would love that and never let it go” in a whisper and then “Thanks,” you muttered. “Always,” she said.

Eventually, the night started to wind down, Cole stood up first, Amelia already half-asleep against his shoulder. “Alright,” he said. “We’re calling it.” Before I started grabbing things to bring out to the car “Yeah,” Brittany nodded, grabbing their things and my mom followed them. She was staying with them for the weekend. You hugged them all goodbye, lingering just a second longer than usual. The door closed, the house quieted. The girls disappeared to their rooms and uncle Benji… vanished somewhere. Then you walk where Dana was the last time you saw her and she turned to you, holding up a bottle of wine. “Couch?” she asked. You didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.” You settled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, careful, shifting until you found the one position that didn’t pull at your stomach. This was the only one that worked. Dana dropped down beside you, handing you a glass. Dana glanced at you. “You okay?” she asked softly. You stared down at your glass for a second.

Then leaned back into the couch getting settled because you know it was going to be a long chat  “…Yeah,” you said, but it wasn’t as automatic this time and she noticed, of course she did, she always did. Dana didn’t rush you, she never did. She just leaned back into the couch, one leg tucked under her, a glass of wine balanced easily in her hand like this was just another Sunday night and not… everything it had been. “So,” she said after a minute, nudging your foot lightly with hers, “how’s it been? Being off all week?” You let out a small breath, then take a sip of your wine. “Weird,” you admitted. “Weird how?”. She hummed  “I don’t know,” you shrugged, shifting slightly until you were back in that one position that didn’t pull at your stomach. “I’m just… not used to it. Sitting still and not doing anything. My body feels fine—it’s just really sore, but it doesn’t hurt like that anymore. It just… feels off.” in a sigh “Yeah,” Dana nodded. “That makes sense.” Then you rolled your eyes and looked at Dana “And my stitches are so itchy which i am happy about but still so annoying because I cant touch it and scratch it” you added with a small laugh. “Absolute hell it takes all of my will power to not do crazy things sometimes.” Dana snorted. “Honestly? I hate that feeling.” You smiled at her  “Yeah, yeah,” but you were smiling. She joking said “you take it up with abbott about your itching problem since he the one he did it” and both laugh at that 

There was a pause, not uncomfortable. Just… open, that made it easier to say the next thing. “I yelled at Abbott.” Dana didn’t react right away, just took a sip of her wine. “Yeah?” she said, like she’d been expecting it. You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah.” she hit you with “What for?” You hesitated for half a second, then pushed through it. “Just… the way he talks to people sometimes,” you said. “The way he was acting that day. Like—short, sharp, just… mean for no reason.” Dana tilted her head slightly. “No reason?” You groaned quietly. “Okay—no. Not no reason. I know there’s a reason. I just—” you shook your head, frustrated with yourself now. “I know he doesn’t mean it like that. I know that. But in the moment it just—pissed me off.” Dana looked at you with what looked like what the point of this  “And so you yelled at him.” you repeated back to her “And so I yelled at him,”  Dana’s mouth twitched.

“I mean I have been waiting for you to yell at someone I mean I did raise you I knew it was going to happen and lucky Abbott got the first one?” not you are a little grumpy from that statement but it very true  “Not helpful,” you muttered. She laughed softly. “What did he do?” You leaned your head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling for a second. “He didn’t really… do anything,” you said slowly. “That’s kind of the problem.” Dana raised an eyebrow. “I had already fought with him a couple days before that,” you added. “When he got hurt. And then everything just kind of… built.” dana taking another sip of her wine before pouring her another glass. “Hm” you continued, “And then Robby got involved,”, glancing over at her. “He told me to go finish what I started.” taking a min to gather your thought before counting to speak “Yeah,” you huffed out a small laugh. “Pulled me aside and basically explained Abbott to me. Why he gets like that. Why he gets defensive. How he… shuts down instead of actually saying anything.” Dana went quiet at that because she knew. “And?” she asked. “And…” you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. It just—made it worse. Because now I get it. And I still yelled at him anyway.” Dana shrugged lightly. “You’re allowed to, he was being stupid” You frowned. “Am I?” still surprised,  “Yes,” she said simply. “Understanding someone doesn’t mean you excuse everything they do.” You picked at the label on your glass. “…Yeah.” she added, “And?” softer now. “What happened after?” You shook your head slightly. “Nothing,” you said. “That’s the thing. Nothing happened. We didn’t fix it. We didn’t talk about it. I haven’t seen him since.” Dana studied you for a second, but she didn’t push,she just nodded.

Eventually, the conversation thinned out, drifting into something quieter, easier. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled right away. You took another sip of your wine, then glanced over at her. “Oh wait,” you said suddenly. “I never said thank you. ”she asked. “For what?” you are now confused “for the flowers.” She blinked,“What flowers?” You frowned slightly. “The ones you sent. After I got hurt.” Dana’s expression shifted immediately. “I didn’t send you flowers.” You paused. “…What?” She shook her head. “I should have,” she admitted. “But I didn’t.” You sat up a little straighter, brows pulling together. “Then who—” she replied to you  “I don’t know,” but there was something in her tone now. Something curious. Something… suspicious. You set your glass down on the coffee table. “A bouquet showed up at my door three days after,” you explained. “Big one. Like—really big. An expensive one .” Dana’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And the note?” just give a confused frowned  “Just said ‘get better soon, love Pitt staff.’” She let out a slow hum, leaning back into the couch now, clearly thinking. “That’s… interesting.” You looked over at her. “You really didn’t hear anything about that? Like no one pitching in? No group thing?” She shook her head. “No. Nothing.” You frowned deeper now. “Because they were nice,” you said. “Like—really nice. And they were my favorite flowers.” Dana’s head tilted. “Your favorite?” You emphasized “Yeah a massive hydrangeas bouquet” And something flickered across her face, something quick, “Christ, someone must feel so bad, that they want to make it up and they bought you a very expensive bouquet” gone just as fast. “Huh,” she said lightly, but you could hear it now. That tone. The one she got when she was trying to piece something together. “Dana,” you said slowly, narrowing your eyes at her. “What?” she started waving it off, “Nothing,” but she was already spiraling. You could see it. “Just thinking.”  you trying to figure out what she is thinking “About what?” you start inching way closer to her.  “About who would know that.” You opened your mouth then closed it, because that list was… small. “Gabbie and Erica know,” you said instead, a little too quickly. “But they wouldn’t like, they don’t have that kind of money.” Dana didn’t say anything. You are now thinking and you have a gut feeling. We are thinking of the same person who got me those flowers but I was hoping it wasn't because it blurred the line for me even more. Which was worse “Right?” you added. She took a sip of her wine. “Maybe it was a group thing,” she said casually. Too casually. “And someone just organized it.” you nodded “Yeah,” latching onto that. “Yeah, that makes sense.” You didn’t even want to go there or suggest another possibility, Dana watched you for another second then smiled, easy, letting it go. “Either way,” she said, “it was sweet.” and quick responded “Yeah” It was, you didn’t say anything else about it after that. You just leaned back into the couch again, tucking your legs in closer, settling into that one safe position. The room was quiet again, night finally slowing down. Whether you wanted it to be or not.

WIDE EYE 

Chapter 11:

The trauma bay is already in chaos before the doors even finish swinging open, too loud, too fast, bodies moving before the stretcher fully clears the threshold. Orders overlap, metal clatters, oxygen hisses, and then they wheel him in four-point restraints barely holding as he thrashes, spit flying, voice hoarse with something feral underneath it. Dr. Jack Abbott is at the center of it, sleeves shoved up, voice sharp and controlled, cutting through everything. “Hold him…  no, tighter Kit, I need” You move before he finishes, stepping in, trying to lock down his arm with everything you have, matching a strength that doesn’t make sense. Your breathing is heavy, your hands are shaking. You trust yourself here. Everyone is yelling and screaming at each other to get settled and push drugs. Abbot yelling at Dr.Shen  “tie this mother fucker down we need to get hims settled”  And then it happens. Too fast to track. One second I was holding him down and then next I lost my hold of his arm and I heard a clatter of something and a flash of metal. A wild swing of this arm, a break in rhythm. You don’t feel it at first,you try to regrab his arm so you could strap him down and then something warm, something wet spreads across your stomach. Your brain doesn’t catch up right away because you’re still holding him, still working, still in it. Finally some come and help me. Then your body registers the pain, A beat. Two. You look down and everything stops. Blood. Too much. Too fast.

“Guys…” Your voice comes out small,weak, worrisome, wrong, like it doesn’t belong to you. Abbott hears it instantly. His head snaps toward you and for a second, he has to double take. You put your hand to your stomach and then slowly see how bloody my hands are. Because it doesn’t make sense. Not you. Not here. His eyes track the blood, the way it’s spreading, where the shirt is becoming a different color, the way you’re standing there like you don’t fully understand it yet. Then he sees the scalpel skidding across the floor, five feet away like it has nothing to do with you. Something in his expression cracks. Not fully but enough the panic for me and how I was bleeding. Your knees threaten to give out. You step back, then again, trying to move out of the way because that’s what you’re in the way, and you are trying to look at one thing so i dont lose my balance and it become a bigger thing but the blood hits the floor too fast, too much, and the room freezes for half a second too long. Enough for everyone to see it. Enough for it to register what is happening to you. 

Abbott drops everything.

He’s at your side instantly, one hand firmly at your back catching you, the other pressing hard against your stomach like if he lets up even an inch you’ll slip through his fingers. “Stay with me—” His voice is still controlled, still clinical, but there’s something tighter underneath now. He’s still calling out over his shoulder, still tracking the patient, and what they need to do. Having dialog of the procedure, still running the room but his grip tightens as he looks at you again, “ talk to me what are you feeling” he move in front of you to block out what happening and so you can focus on him then he drops to one knee so he is eye level to your stomach, his hand moves your hip settling there for him and you, tile cracking under the force of it. “I need to lift your shirt, okay?” His voice is softer  but still stern so I cant ignore it, urgent but different. You shake your head automatically, your hand coming up instead, covered in your blood but you can't think about that right now, as his fingers are brushing your abdomen too carefully. Your body wincing and flinching to any touch even though it is light until they’re not, until you feel the cut. “Fuck—” you closing your eye in pain and throwing your head, griting your teeth and grabbing his shoulder game, balance from the wave that you just felt, it slips out of him before he can stop it. “ How bad is it, what are you doing” as another wave of pain comes. The gauze he grabbed is already soaked through, red blooming faster than he can control, spreading relentlessly under his hands. For a second, his hands hover just a fraction trying to come up with a plan of what he needs to do like he’s trying to choose between panic and precision.

Precision wins.

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly, more to himself than anyone else, and then he’s moving. His arm wraps tight around your waist, pulling you into him as he stands you and his other hand still on your abdominal applying pressure, your arm slung around his neck without thinking, your hand on top of his to make you feel like you are doing something that is more under control then it actually is. your weight heavier with every step. “Shen—you’re in charge,” he throws over his shoulder, not waiting for confirmation as he walks you out. The hallway blurs. The lights are too bright. Sounds too far away you feel yourself not being fully there because and your mind you are trying to calculate how much bloody lost. He finds the nearest bed without slowing, easing you on there almost at this point picking you up and laying you down but never releasing pressure on the wound. “Need pressure dressing, get me a… ” He's already shouting, already moving, already doing everything at once. He pushed me into one of the rooms and you can't tell with one because your eyes are closed from all the pain. You try opening them but your world softens at the edges. More people are coming in, you can feel them cutting your shirt off so they get access to everything and starting putting IV in your arm and setting the monitor so they can see your vititals. He looks at you to see how you are doing with all of this happening around you and he notices immediately the delay in your responses, the way your eyes struggle to stay focused. “Hey—hey, stay with me,” sharper now, rubbing my chest to make me have a reaction. Getting closer than he was before, and putting more pressure with his hands. Pain flares when you contract your abs make you curl up and gasp, grabbing his arm, fingers digging in probably bring him pain too as your eyes find him. You don’t say it but it’s all there. Am I going to be okay? His jaw tightens just for a second. “Yes” he says, firm, and then putting his hand on your head to calm you down. “Yeah—you’re okay. I’ve got you.” It shouldn’t matter how he says it but it does. Nurses rush in around him, but Abbott doesn’t move, Doesn't step back, Doesn’t hand you off. He stays right there, hands steady as he works cleaning, assessing, getting it under control 

You’re still on the bed, still staring at the ceiling, still having that haze and feel a little zoned out but you can feel the difference, the absence of panic. The way your body isn’t fighting itself anymore Someone says something about your vitals stabilizing. Another voice confirms it. There’s movement around your supplies being set down, gloves snapping off, someone stepping back moving on to the next case. And through all of it he doesn't move. Dr. Abbott stays exactly where his hands are already working getting things ready to stitch you up, shifting into something more precise now that the worst of it is over. Someone using Povidone-iodine to clean your wound and you can smell the deductions of its smell.  “Okay,” someone says behind him. “She’s good.” He nods and doesn't look up. The pain isn’t gone, not completely but it’s… dulled. My body has decided it’s done reacting for now and you are finally able to take a real breath. You open your eyes for the first time really being able to focus on something and that’s when you notice it… Him. Every movement is controlled, deliberate, more careful than you’ve ever seen him. like he’s thinking through each step before he does it. His hands are usually so quick, so efficient, so sure they are slower now. Not hesitant. Never that. Just… intentional. He's making sure nothing else goes wrong, that he’s not going to let anything else touch you. You don’t even realize you’ve turned your head. This is not normal, He's attending. He delegates then he moves on, he doesn’t stay for something like this when he doesn’t have to but he is. His fingers press lightly at the edge of the wound, checking, adjusting, making sure everything is exactly where it needs to be before he starts stitching. You feel the pull of the suture going through your skin, the pressure that it leaves behind. Your brain latches onto something else instead, the way his hands look and the way they move. They’re steady and how they look so big compared to her body, how the veins in his hand are bulging out of the skin and how they are traveling up his arm and you see tenders and then flexors more with the needle in his hand. Softness of his hands and the quietness of him focusing on those first few stitches and it’s such a stupid thing to notice, such a small thing but you do. 

This is the same man who barked orders over your head not even ten minutes ago. The same man who moves through trauma like nothing can touch him, The same man who doesn't hesitate. Now he’s taking his time with you. Your chest tightens slightly at that though. Of how he's been treating you differently and you want something to happen but it never will because you know how he is and how he would never cross that line. Something you don’t want to look at too closely. He threads the needle through with practiced ease, tying off the first few stitches clean and precise. Just so quiet just the sound of his hands working and the humming business outside. You realize the room has emptied and we were all by ourselves. Your eyes flick up to his face. He’s focused, jaw tight, a muscle ticking slightly near his temple And then he exhales. He breaks the silence “You shouldn’t be here.” It comes out low and rough. You blink,“What?” He shakes his head slightly, “fuck”  like he’s already frustrated with himself for saying it. “This—” he gestures vaguely at your stomach without looking up. “This shouldn’t have happened.” You watch him, the way his shoulders are set, the way his hands don’t stop moving even as he talks. “I should’ve had that under control,” he continues, quieter now. “I saw he was escalating—I should’ve called it sooner. Sedated him sooner. I should’ve—” He cuts himself off. Jaw tightening again, it seems like he cant undo it because it has been like that for so long. “It’s not your fault,” you say, your voice still softer than usual. He lets out a short, humorless breath. “Yeah,” he mutters. “It is.” You frown slightly and shake your head even though he is not looking at you while he continues “I’m your attending,” he cuts in, sharper now—not at you, but at the situation, at himself. “That’s literally my job. To control the room. To anticipate shit like that before it happens. To make sure no one gets hurt.” His hands pause a minute letting one of his hands flex out to get rid of some of the tension that he is feeling, just enough. “And you got hurt,” he finishes, quieter now. Something in your chest shifts because he means it, not in a general way, not in a “someone on my team got injured” way. In a you way.

You reach out before you fully think about it. Your hand finding his wrist. It stops him. He looks up Finally and there’s something there. Something you haven’t seen from him before, not like this. You tighten your grip slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to hold his attention. “It wasn’t your fault,” you say, softer now. He shakes his head immediately. “It was—” you interrupt, more firmly this time “It wasn’t,” Your thumb brushes slightly against his wrist. Grounding him in this moment saying that you don't blame him and that you are ok and will live. “He was out of control,” you continue. “You couldn’t have stopped that. No one could have.” His eyes hold yours, searching waiting for you to take back the word you just said like he wants to believe that. That he is the bad guy but he doesn’t know you don't think that he is. “I’m serious,” you add, quieter now. “Stop putting this all on yourself.” His jaw shifts again “That’s not how this works,” he says finally, voice lower now. “If something goes wrong in that room… it’s on me.” You shake your head slightly. “No,” you say. “Not everything.” His gaze flickers and he looks so angry when he looks at my cut.  “Yes,” he replies, softer this time. “Everything. Now just let me finish this”. The word sits between you Heavy, and Final. Your hand is still on his wrist. His hand is still hovering near your stomach, getting ready to start working on me again. The space between you is smaller than it should be. Then he exhales slowly, he pulls his wrist free, Not harsh. Just enough to go back to work. When he places his hand back against you it's precise.  

He makes and ties off the last stitch, fingers moving with that same quiet precision, like nothing in the world exists outside of the line he’s closing. The scissors snip through the final thread, clean and controlled, and for a second his hands just hover there—checking, making sure, not quite ready to let go. Then he exhales, barely noticeable, and reaches for gauze. He presses it gently over the fresh wound, taping it down with more care than necessary, smoothing the edges like it matters how it sits. Like it matters that it’s perfect. He doesn’t say anything. He just pulls his gloves off, one slow motion at a time, tossing them into the bin before grabbing sanitizer, rubbing it into his hands harder than needed.

Pushes the door open with his back. “I’m going to get Erica or Gabbie or someone I don’t know to help you out and get you a new shirt.” It comes out clipped. Controlled. Like if he stays any longer, something else might slip. And then he’s gone. The door swings shut behind him And just like that You’re alone. The room feels different without him in it. Like everything that just happened is finally catching up. You try to sit up slowly, careful, testing what your body will let you do. It pulls but it doesn’t rip. Manageable. You take a breath, steadying yourself, and for the first time you actually look down.

You look like shit. Your hair is everywhere, sticking to your face, your neck. You’re still in your sports bra thank god but the rest of you is a mess. Sensors stuck to your skin, wires trailing, your scrub pants dark and soaked through with your own blood. It’s dried in places. Sticky in others. For a second you just start trying to process the fact that all of that is yours. That it actually happened. The door opens again. You look up fast. Dana, She doesn’t even knock, Doesn't hesitate.She’s already moving toward you before the door fully closes, eyes scanning, taking everything in at once. “Kit—” Her voice breaks on your name. Just slightly, but you hear it. “I’m okay,” you say immediately too quickly. She doesn’t believe you, of course she doesn’t. Her hands are on you in seconds, checking, assessing, pushing your hand away from the bandage so she can see it herself. “Let me look—hold on—just—” as her hand toward her stomach “I’m fine—Dana—” trying to stop it  “Let me ” she snaps, not harsh, just—overwhelmed. Her fingers peel back the gauze carefully, eyes locking onto the wound, jaw tightening the second she sees it.

there it is that look, the one you know too well, the one that isn’t just worried, Her worst nightmare. This is exactly what she’s been trying to prevent. You see it all over her face. The way her breathing shifts.

The way her hands move faster now, rebandaging it, tighter, more controlled, like she can fix it if she just does it right. “This is not okay,” she mutters. “This is—this should never have happened.” You swallow because you know what she’s really saying. “This is why I didn’t want you at night,” she continues, voice tightening. “This is why I’ve been on you, Kit. You think I’m just being overbearing? This is—this is exactly—” Dana ran her hand through her hair “Dana—” with an exhale “No,” she cuts in, shaking her head. “You need to come back to the day shift. Full time. I’m not asking this time.” She’s pleading now, begging. “I can’t trust that you’re protected here,” she says, quieter, but worse somehow. “I can't, I can't watch something like this happen to you again. Your chest tightens, because you know why, you know what she’s thinking, what she’s remembering. And this is worse for her because it me 

“Dana,” you say softer now. “I’m okay.” She shakes her head immediately. “You got cut, Kit.” hand on her hips look at you like a disappointed mom look, going back to your stomach. “I know.” Her hands stop moving, momentarily. “I can’t lose you,” she says quietly. You reach for her this time. “Hey, you are not going to lose me” you say gently. “This wasn’t anyone’s fault it could have happened to anyone day or night” She doesn’t respond, Doesn’t agree. “Dana,” you press. “It wasn’t.” She exhales sharply, shaking her head again, like she physically can’t accept that. “We’ll talk about this later,” she says finally, stepping back slightly. “But you’re not going back out there like this.” You don’t argue, Not right now.  you know This isn’t really about the shift It’s about her fear And fear doesn’t listen to logic. Dana is about to leave to take a breather and get a shirt for kit while she stays in the room. 

When Dana first got there, Dr. Jack Abbott was already on his way back. He meant to go in. Meant to check on you professionally, clinically, just to make sure everything was holding the way it should. That’s what he told himself, at least. That it had nothing to do with the way your face had looked when you grabbed his arm. Nothing to do with the way his hands hadn’t wanted to leave you. But he never made it past the doorway Because he heard it. Not all of it just enough. Enough to understand, to feel it land exactly where it shouldn’t. Dana’s voice, tight with fear and anger, talking about protection. About trust. About how she couldn’t trust that you were safe here. Safe under him. That something like this had happened on his watch. And that was enough. It sits heavy in his chest, sharper than it should, because it’s not just criticism, it’s confirmation of the thing he’s already been telling himself since the second he saw the blood on your shirt. He failed. Not in some abstract, system-level way. In a direct, undeniable way, you got hurt and he was right there. He stays just outside the room longer than he should. Long enough to hear the shift in Dana’s voice, to hear the fear underneath it. He knows he shouldn’t be standing there at all. Because if he steps in He’s not sure he’ll keep it professional. Not sure he’ll be able to separate the doctor from everything else pressing too close to the surface. And worse He’s not sure he wants to hear what you might say because there’s a part of him that’s bracing for it. For you to agree with her, to look at him differently now Like he’s something to be careful of instead of someone to trust.So he doesn’t go in, he doesn’t interrupt, he just moves on. Walks away before he can change his mind. Before he can say something he shouldn’t or hear something he won’t be able to forget. 

he doesn’t leave it there, He can’t get out of his own head him thinking about everyone he could protect from when he was in the military intill now because his brain won’t let him It keeps replaying over and over, the moments. The flash of metal,shot, blood,leg and arm being gone, people eyes, And then You. The way you said “guys.” Too small, Too quiet. The way you looked down, like you didn’t understand what you were seeing yet And then your eyes. My head won't let go. The second you looked up at him like kit didnt know how he was going to save her. Like you were waiting for him to tell you what this meant. Waiting for him to fix it. Still thinking all of these thing. He drags a hand over his face as he walks, jaw tight, trying to shake it off, trying to reset back into the version of himself that can function Because that’s what he does, He compartmentalizes. But He didn’t hear you tell Dana it wasn’t his fault Didn’t hear you defend him. Didn’t hear you say he was the one who took care of you, Who kept you calm, Who didn’t let go and stayed with you the whole time. He misses all of that. And instead He walks away carrying only one version of the story. The one where he failed you And it’s the only one that matters to him.

The meeting happens ten minutes later. No Kit just everyone else. Abbott stands at the front of the room, arms crossed, jaw tight, tension rolling off him in a way that makes no one even think about speaking. “She’s stable,” he says first. “She’s going home.” A beat passes. “And the rest of us are picking up the slack.” No one argues. No one moves. Then he snaps. “How the hell did that happen?” His voice cuts sharp through the room. “How did a restrained patient get access to a scalpel?” Silence. “Someone answer me.” No one does. “What the fuck guy no one going to talk her” He starts pacing now, energy building, control slipping just enough to show. “Because from where I’m standing, that should’ve never been possible. That’s basic control. That’s basic awareness.” His voice rises—not yelling yet, but close. “And instead one of our nurses ends up on a table because we didn’t have control of the room.” Now he is yelling. And it lands on everyone even the ones who weren’t involved. You hear it from the hallway. His voice, Angry And it stops you. You’ve never heard him like that before. You push the door open just enough to see without being seen. He’s pacing, sharp, tense nothing like the man who just stitched you up like you were something fragile. This is different. This is control slipping. You step further in, quiet, unnoticed until you can’t listen to it anymore. “Enough.” Your voice cuts clean through the room. Everything stops. Heads turn. He turns too and when he sees you, everything else drops away. “What are you doing up—” he starts. “Everyone leave,” you say, firm but no one moves.

“Now.” I say again make sure they know.They do. One by one, filing out until it’s just the two of you. Abbott run to my side grabs me , try to move me to sit down, i swat away his hands and he just stay there hand hovering in case of anything. You take a step forward slowly, ignoring the pull in your side, ignoring everything but him. “You don’t get to do that,” you say in and disbelieveing and disappointing voice try to not get angry at him because he can help it. His jaw tightens. Fist closing and he queezing to hard that his knuckles are turning white. “They needed to hear it.” This time you can keep the anger dowm “No,” you shake your head. “They didn’t. Not like that.” A beat. “You think yelling at them fixes what happened? Because it doesn’t.” you grabbing his face and pulling it to your eye instead of you stomach. Making sure he looking at you. “how you fix it is with Debreifinfg, having a conversation and Figuring out what went wrong but it is not belittling them” finally letting go of his face.  He doesn’t respond. “You’re better than that,” you add, quieter now. You hold his gaze for a second longer then turn and walk out, leaving him there alone.

Robby finds him on the roof, leaning against the railing on the other side, staring out over the city like it might have answers. “You done?” Robby asks casually, stepping beside him. Abbott doesn’t answer. “She’s okay,” Robby adds after a second. That gets a reaction. “Yeah,” Abbott mutters. “I know.” A beat.

“You scared the shit out of her,” Robby says. “And then you took it out on everyone else.” Silence.

“And then,” Robby adds, a small grin pulling at his mouth, “she came in and put you in your place.” Abbott huffs. “Did she.” Robby nods “Oh yeah, Full Dana energy. It was impressive.” That almost makes him smile. “Kid’s got a backbone,” Robby adds. “She shouldn’t have been in that position,” Abbott mutters. “There it is,” Robby says lightly. “You’re doing it again.” Abbott doesn’t respond. “You can’t control everything,” Robby continues. “You know that.” abbot turn around and put his head on the railing “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.” Robby shakes his head. “You’re a good doctor. A really good one. But you’re not god.” Abbott drags a hand over his face. “She grabbed my hand,” he says suddenly. Robby blinks. “What?” Abbott exhales. “She grabbed my hand. Told me it wasn’t my fault. She made my mine go qutie for that second of her caring” Robby watches him, waiting. “But mind now is 10 time louder after all of that ” Abbott adds quietly. “Because I can’t stop thinking about her,” he mutters. “About how close that was. About—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head then looked a robby. Robby didnt say anything just let him sit it in it and then abbott came back on the other side of the rail and walked down stairs 

Some random night of drinking

Chapter 10 

The decision happened fast. Like most things in the ER, it wasn’t really a discussion, it was more of a collective agreement that just… clicked into place between patients, charting, and half-finished conversations that never really ended. Gabbie leaned back against the nurses’ station, arms crossed like she was about to deliver a diagnosis. “So we’re going out tonight.” Santos didn’t even look up from what she was doing. “No objections,” he said immediately. “None?” Gabbie pressed, scanning the room. “Zero,” Whittaker added from behind a computer. “In fact, I think it’s medically necessary.” Mateo let out a tired laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, we deserve it after this shitshow,” he said, glancing around at the rest of them. “Like… legally deserve it.” then taking a big breath “Exactly,” Gabbie pointed at him. “Doctor’s orders.” Someone in the back muttered, “I don’t think that’s how that works.” she shot back.“It is tonight,” And just like that it was settled. The local dive bar. The one everyone loved for no real reason other than the fact that it didn’t ask questions. Sticky floors, cheap drinks, dim lighting that made everything feel softer, and just enough chaos to make you forget the shift you just survived.

Later, Kit found herself leaning against the counter beside Mateo, both of them pretending to focus on charts while very obviously not. There was that post-shift buzz in the air, the kind where no one was fully working anymore, but no one had technically stopped either. Mateo nudged her lightly with his elbow. “So,” he said casually, like he hadn’t been thinking about it for the last ten minutes, “pregaming or are we just raw dogging it tonight?” Kit snorted, not even looking up at first. “Absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head. “I refuse to walk into that place sober. That’s actually dangerous.” she chucked “Thank you,” Mateo said, relieved. “I was worried you were going to make me do it sober",finally glancing at him.  “Oh, please,” she shot back, “You couldn’t handle that.” He put a hand to his chest, mock offended. “Wow. Okay. Rude.” She smiled small, teasing. Then, without really thinking it through “You should come over and pregame,” she said easily. “I’m gonna be getting ready anyway.” There was a beat. Mateo blinked at her then his grin spread slowly and wide. “Oh yeah?” he said, leaning in just a little. “I feel honored.” She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile she couldn’t quite hide. “Relax. It’s not that special.” unconvinced, “Mm,” he hummed,“Feels special.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she shot back “I also have some questions for you” in her teasing voice. He bumped her shoulder lightly in return. “So what, I just sit there while you get ready and you ask me a bunch of questions? That’s the plan?” She shrugged, casual. “Yeah. We can also gossip, You can pour drinks, hype me up, tell me I look hot. Very important role.” In a sarcastic tone “Oh, I can definitely do that,” he said quickly. “I take my responsibilities seriously.” She laughed at that real, easy. “Good, plus I need your advice, ” she said, glancing back down at her chart. “Because if I pick a bad outfit, I’m blaming you.” give him a silly grumpy face “Deal,” he said. “But if you look too good, I’m also taking credit.” She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Bold of you to assume that’s possible.” Mateo leaned closer, dropping his voice just enough to feel like it meant something. “Kit… I’ve seen your closet. It’s very possible.” She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Okay, stalker.” he put his hand up like he was guilty  “You invited me,” he pointed out. She smirked. “Yeah… might regret that.” he now went back to doing some paperwork  “Too late,” he said. “I’m already planning my outfit around yours.” Underneath his breath I think I wouldn't be able to hear it  “Oh my god,” she groaned. “Please don’t match me.” he looked up this time and gave a wicked grin  “No promises.” She nudged him again, this time a little harder. “You’re the worst.” he pretended that actually hurt and threw his hand up on his arm where she nudged him  “And yet,” he said easily, “you invited me over.” She glanced at him just for a second then looked away, still smiling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I did.”

Across the floor, Dr. Abbott was covering for Dr. Robby gloved hands steady, voice calm as he stepped into a case like he had done a thousand times before. Muscle memory. Controlled chaos. His focus was where it always was on the patient, on the rhythm of the room, on keeping everything from tipping too far in the wrong direction. He was always listening, Always and that’s when he heard it. “You should come over and pregame.”His head tilted just slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice But enough For a second, his hands kept moving on autopilot while his brain caught up. Something about the way she said it, easy, casual, like it wasn’t a big deal sat wrong in his chest. He hadn’t really paid attention to Kit and Mateo before. Not like that. They talked, yeah. Everyone talked. It was a long shift, people leaned on each other, formed quick friendships, quick bonds. But now he was watching and once he started, he couldn’t stop. The way Mateo leaned in when she talked, she didn’t pull back. The way they stood was just a little too close for “just coworkers.” The easy banter. The back-and-forth. The kind that wasn’t forced. Like they had their own rhythm. His jaw tightened slightly, Since when? Why the hell had he never noticed it before? Because you weren’t looking, he answered himself immediately, he didn’t want to because it was easier to pretend she was just Off limits. A line he didn’t cross and a problem he didn’t have but now she was inviting another guy over. To her place while she was getting ready, to sit in her space. Her world. The version of her that no one here got to see. something in his chest pulled tight. He shifted slightly, adjusting his stance at the bedside, forcing his attention back where it belonged. Focus But his mind wouldn’t let it go. Because now he was picturing it. Mateo in her apartment, leaning against her kitchen counter like he belonged there. Watching her move around, half-dressed, picking out clothes, doing her makeup. Laughing at something stupid he said, letting him see her like that. A version of her Abbott had never gotten and probably never would. His grip tightened just slightly around the instrument in his hand before he caught himself. “Jesus” What the hell are you doing? He exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing the thought away because it wasn’t his business, It wasn’t his place. She was allowed to invite whoever the hell she wanted over and to flirt, to date, to do whatever she wanted.

Mateo made sense. They are the same age, same stage of life. No complications, No lines being crossed, No consequences, Unlike you. His jaw clenched, think about it. He risked another glance and of course Mateo said something that made her laugh. That laugh, The kind that didn’t happen as much on the floor. The kind that felt… personal and Mateo got it without trying. Without carrying the weight of everything Abbott knew this could turn into. God, he hated that, how easy it looked, how natural it felt between them. Hated that Mateo didn’t have to hold himself back. Mateo doesn't have to think about the rules like Abbott did. Didn’t have to pretend like he didn’t want something he absolutely shouldn’t. Abbott swallowed hard, dragging his focus back to the patient in front of him. You don’t get that, You don’t get her like that and you sure as hell don’t get to be jealous about it. But the feeling didn’t go away. He found Dana not long after. “What’s going on with Kit and Mateo?” he asked, like it was nothing. Dana immediately narrowed her eyes. “Why?” because it is very suspicious that he is asking about Kit and Mateo.  “Just asking.” he hummed “Well,” she said slowly, “funny you ask, because I was about to ask the same thing.” because she was able to get more info out of him, then the rumor spread faster than anything else that night because she was trying to get down to both her mystery of one why is abbott asking and the other to find out if anything is actually happening. By the time Kit realized it people were already looking at her differently Dana cornered her near the break room. “So,” Dana started, arms crossed, “what’s happening between you and Mateo?” Kit blinked. “What? Nothing.” Dana gave her a look. “Dana, I swear,” Kit said, laughing a nervous laugh. “He’s just the same age as me and we’re just friends. Hey there aren't a lot of us here, we got to stick together.” Dana didn’t buy it. Not even a little. “Mmhm,” she said. “Sure, I mean when I was your age I wasn't inviting anyone over before going out to the bar?” Dana trying to pull anything. By the time her shift ended, Kit practically ran to her car to escape the rumor mill that was in there.

When she got home, things were still calm for a bit. It was just her and Mateo at first. He arrived, knocked twice, and let himself in like he already knew the place. She was in the middle of pulling clothes from her closet, her room a mess with outfits scattered everywhere. “Jesus,” Mateo said, stepping in and looking around. “Did your closet explode or something?” He stepped around the piles on the floor. “Shut up,” she replied, not even turning around. “I have options.” She put her hands on her hips. “You have a problem,” Mateo said, dropping onto her bed and picking up one of her tops. “How many outfits are you planning to wear tonight?” She disappeared into the bathroom. “As many as it takes,” she called out, then came back. “I refuse to look bad in front of all of you.” He gave her a look. “You’ve literally never looked bad a day in your life,” Mateo said, taking a sip of his drink like it was nothing. She paused, rolled her eyes, and smiled. “Flattery isn’t going to make me pick faster.” “It wasn’t flattery,” he shrugged. “It was just an observation.” She tried to ignore him, but a small smile tugged at her lips. She moved around the room, grabbed her makeup bag, and sat at her mirror. For a moment, it was quiet. “So,” she said, glancing at him in the mirror, “what’s going on with you and Javadi?” Mateo blinked. “What?” Kit turned to look at him. “Don’t play dumb,” Kit said, already smirking. “You like her.” “I do not—” Mateo started, then stopped. “I don't know.” He shook his head. “Okay, I mean, she’s cool.” Kit turned fully toward him, raising an eyebrow. “She’s cool?” she repeated. “She’s cool,” Mateo said. Kit corrected him, “She’s hot.” Mateo laughed. “Yeah, okay, she’s hot.” Kit grinned, excited. “And you like her,” she pressed. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe.” “Mateo,” Kit said quickly, then turned back to the mirror. “What?” he said, sounding a little defensive. “It’s not that simple.” She softened. “Why not?” Kit asked. 

He hesitated, then shrugged. “She’s younger. Like, noticeably younger.” Kit tilted her head. “And?” she asked, confused. “And I don’t know if that’s something I should be doing,” Mateo said. “I don’t want to be that guy.” She studied him. “You’re overthinking it,” she said gently. “She’s not a kid.” “I know that, I just—” he sighed. “I don’t want to make it weird.” Kit smiled. “It’s already weird. You stare at her every time she walks into a room.” “I do not,” he protested. “You do,” she teased. She laughed quietly. “I don’t,” he insisted. She laughed more. “Okay, fine. Keep lying to yourself.” He shook his head, but he was smiling. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. “Wait. Why do you care so much?” He crossed his arms. “I don’t. I’m just trying to help someone out,” she said quickly, turning back to her makeup. “Mmhm,” Mateo hummed. “No, you definitely have something else going on.” She took a breath. “Dana was asking me if we were a thing. She said that when she was your age, she wasn’t inviting anyone over before going out, and she heard from someone that you were coming over.” Mateo looked confused. “So?” She repeated, “I hadn’t told anyone you were coming over because I didn’t want people to think that.” Mateo pretended to be hurt. “What, am I not good enough?” She rolled her eyes. “Shut up. No, I just want to know who was eavesdropping.” “Why do you care?” Mateo repeated. He looked at her in the mirror. “I don’t,” she said again. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching her in the mirror. “Okay,” he said slowly, grinning. “So if you’re not deflecting, that means you’ve got something going on.” She went quiet, focusing on her mascara, then finally said, “I don’t,” making that funny face people make when putting it on. Mateo perked up. “Oh, you absolutely do,” he said, sitting up, fully interested. “Who is it?”

"No one," Kit said. "Kit," Mateo called, his voice sharp. "No," she replied, just as quick. He got up and nudged her. "Tell me." She shook her head, laughing. "Drop it." His eyes lit up. "Oh my god, it’s someone at work." She stayed quiet, which was answer enough. Mateo sat back, eyes wide. "No way. Who is it?" he asked right away. "Wait, hold on, do I know them? Of course I do, we work together. Okay, give me a hint." Kit got up to put away her makeup, passing by him. "No," she said, now behind the wall. "Is it a doctor?" Mateo prodded. Kit pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. "Holy shit, it’s a doctor," he said, pointing at her. "It’s definitely a doctor." She walked back into view, looking annoyed. "Mateo, I swear to god—" she warned. He laughed. "Wait, wait, this is so much better than Javadi and me." She threw a shirt at him. "Shut up," Kit said. He caught it, still grinning. "You have a work crush? This is huge."

Lucky that when the door bell rang  “I’ll figure it out,” he warned. You start walking down the stairs toward the door,  “You won’t,” she repeated, more confident now. He studied her for a second longer then smirked. “Okay,” he said. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” Then cross his arm at the top of the stairs and right before you open the door  “But just so you know,” he added, standing up, grabbing his drink, “I’m going to be watching you tonight.” She whipped her head around hand on the door knob. “Please don’t you wont do that to me” then he look at you up and down and said “Oh, I absolutely will.” and it was gabbie at the door and i am surprised that she didnt let herself in either but she must have been thinking about the rumor today and thought they were real too. By the time everyone else showed up then it became chaos. Mateo, Santos, Whittaker, Javadi, Erica, Gabbie, Her apartment filled quickly with noise, laughter, music echoing off the walls. It felt strange, seeing everyone not in scrubs and they hadn’t done this since her birthday. somehow… everyone cleaned up really fucking well and they all looked fucking hot too. They crowded around her kitchen island, drinks in hand, talking over each other while Kit darted between her room and the bathroom, still trying to figure out what the hell she was going to wear. This was the one thing she hated because she had too many options. At work, it was easy. Scrubs. Done. No thinking. But now she had to choose and she was so indecisive it was actually painful. Eventually, she settled on something hot but not too much because If she sees Dana tonight because I know it is girl night for her, she would absolutely say something. Jeans that made her ass look good. A grey long sleeve that hugged her just right, making her chest pop. Her dad’s old black leather jacket was thrown over it. Heeled boots for a little extra height. Her hair down, bouncy from a blowout. With a light smokey eye and Fresh spray tan. She looked… good and she knew it.

They walked to the bar together, drinks tucked in brown paper bags, laughing way too loud for the street. Everyone is taking videos of each other messing around and for the memories. somewhere along the walk Kit noticed it. Mateo and Javadi are much closer than before when they were at her apartment. Not obvious but enough they are talking, laughing, and the way he leaned in when she talked and the way she didn’t move away she knew Mateo had it in the bag. I mean Javadi has been convincing her about her crush on Mateo, I am glad to finally see it happen.Then kit see the way their shoulders kept brushing like it wasn’t an accident. Kit smirked to herself, falling back slightly beside Gabbie. “Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. “He’s making moves.” Gabbie looked confused at Kit “What?” Gabbie said, immediately looking around to see what was happening, Kit nodded subtly toward them. “Mateo and Javadi.” Gabbie’s eyes widened. “No way.” watching as Mateo said something that made Javadi laugh, her hand briefly catching his arm. “Way,” Kit said, “Okay wait—that’s actually cute,” Gabbie said. “I told him to go for it,” Kit said, satisfied. “Ok stop looking you are making it Obvious” 

The group finally makes it to the bar. Some of them still have not finished their beer. So they were all hanging out for a second outside. Of course Santos was taking a video and trying to make Whittaker and Erica chug their beer and they were not having a fun time with that as they chugged and the beer got all over Whittaker's face and all over his shirt. While everyone else was chatting away talking about random stuff . Once they finished their beer they were ready to go inside to have fun and let loose from the day they all had. The second they stepped inside the first person she made eye contact with was Dr. Abbott Of course. And right next to him Dr. Robby and Dana. Her breath caught for half a second before she recovered, walking over like it was nothing.“Hi,” she said, hugging Dana, then waving at Robby and then Abbott. Say “hi” to them in the most normal voice she could right now while everyone did even bother and went straight to the back booth. I guess that's what happens when your aunt is friends with your bosses. You get stuck in these awkward situations.  And both him and Robby were looking at her like it was the first time they had ever seen her like this. In normal clothes looking like a regular 20 something year old and maybe it was the first time that she looked normal to them and not like an extremely tired nurse. Once they got that out of their system they said hi back and then looked back at the table with everyone in “Go ask everyone what they want,” Abbott said, already smirking. “First round on me.”Kit’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? There are a lot of us.” … “Of course,” he said easily. “I need to show off my good side so when I need a favor then I use this to my advantage.” He winked. Her stomach flipped. “Okay,” she said, turning quickly, a nervous smile flashing toward Dana. “One sec—let me go ask.” She found everyone in the back booth—and realized even more people were there. McKay, King, Langdon, Mohan. “Hi!” She says quickly to all the new people and then grabs attention. “Hey Dr. Abbott is buying the first round so I’m gonna pass my phone just put your drinks down and please don’t do any hard drinks, please.” Her phone made its way around. Ten drinks. Thankfully mostly beers and cans.

When she got back to the bar, she slipped beside Abbott again. “Are you sure this is okay?” she asked quietly. He didn’t even look at her at first. “Kit,” he said, voice low, amused. “Relax.” Then he went right back to talking to Robby. She leaned over the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention. One foot up on the metal rail, forearms braced against the counter, stretching just enough to be heard over the music And Abbott noticed. Of course he did. His eyes flicked down—then back up Then again And something in his chest went tight. So without thinking he placed his hand on her lower back, Steady, Firm Like it was nothing Like it was natural. Robby noticed immediately. Abbott shot him a look. Don’t, Robby just raised an eyebrow. Kit froze, The second she felt it. Warm. Solid. Burning through her shirt. She forced herself to keep talking, finishing the order. But her brain was elsewhere. Because his hand wasn’t moving. And he was still talking to Robby Like nothing was happening.

She glanced back quickly, and saw it… His hand. Right where she felt it then looked forward again, heart racing to take a breath before looking back toward them. “Do you guys want anything?” she asked, voice slightly off. “And do you know if Dana needs a drink?” They both just lifted their drinks for the bartender to see and then shrugged their shoulders because they didn't know about Dana. She ordered Dana one anyway. “Got it, ” the bartender said. When she stepped down His hand dragged, Slowly Up her back. almost teasing like he didn't want to remove it but had too then disappeared Like it never happened. The bartender came back with all the drinks. Robby now stood and then stepped in. “Let us help you with that.” Then the three of them walked back together. Once they got back there, they set everything down, passing drinks around, laughter picking back up instantly. Kit ended up standing next to Gabbie who was sitting at the end of the booth and Abbott who was standing on the other side in the center of the table. 

She turned toward Abbott, “Thank you again for the drinks,” she said. “I guess I owe you another favor, Dr. Abbott.” He looked down at her with a smirk “I guess you do.” Then he leaned closer Lower so his voice was just for her. “You know you don’t have to be so formal all the time,” he murmured. “You can call me Jack when we’re outside of work, it won't kill you .” Her breath caught. She hesitated then stepped closer getting up on her toes. Hand resting lightly on his shoulder for balance. “Okay… Jack.” The way she said it was soft, intentional. Before going back down off her toes and It hit him straight in the chest. She smiled like it was nothing. But Abbott He felt it All of it and he was thinking all the fucking awful thing he want to do with her. when she says his name like that. Once Kit was clear from being anywhere close to them and he cleared his head of those thoughts, Abbot taking a swig of his beer to fight this Urge that he has. Robby sees how they just interacted and how Jack keeps on flexing his hands, and then robby leans in toward him, and sees how Jack and him now are watching kit across the room laughing with her friends. “You are playing a risky game,” he said quietly. “I hope you know what you are doing.” Abbott took a sip of his drink, not looking away from her. Then smirked slightly “I always play risky games,” he said. “That’s kind of my thing.” Robby sighed. “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

And neither of them knew what the hell they were supposed to do about it.

The help that wasn't wanted 

Chapter 9: 

He’d tell it later like it was nothing. Like the kind of thing that just… happened. But in the moment, it wasn’t nothing. The fire escape groaned the second his weight hit it metal screaming in that sharp, warning way that every instinct in his body recognized too late. “Go, go move!” Abbott barked, already pushing the last of his team through the third-story window ahead of him, smoke pouring out behind them, heat licking up the sides of the building. He stepped back onto the fire escape, one hand bracing the railing—just for a second and then it gave. The whole thing collapsed. Metal tore loose from brick. His boots slipped. And then he was falling. Not far enough to kill him but far enough. He hit the lower platform hard, shoulder first, the impact jarring up his spine, knocking the air clean out of his lungs. Pain shot through his arm instantly, sharp and bright, something wrong in the joint that he didn’t have time to think about. His back scraped across rusted metal, fabric tearing, skin catching, heat still clinging to everything. “Abbott!” someone shouted. “I’m good,” he snapped back automatically, and kinda winded, even as he pushed himself up with his good arm, jaw clenched so tight it ached. “Keep moving” And they did because he didn’t give them another option. He stayed in it. Cleared rooms. Broke down doors. Took hits he shouldn’t have taken and ignored the way his arm refused to fully cooperate, the way every movement pulled something deeper out of place. Another teammate had to shift to cover his side. He noticed that, cataloged it, tucked it away but he didn’t stop. He never stopped. Not until it was over.

By the time they got him into the car, the adrenaline had worn just enough to make everything worse. “You need an ambulance,” one of them said, glancing at his shoulder again, at the way it sat just slightly off. “I’m not calling it in,” Abbott shot back, leaning his head against the window for half a second before forcing himself upright again. “Drive.”... “You can’t just” … “I said drive.” And they did. Because that tone didn’t leave room for argument. The ER doors slid open like any other night. No heads-up. No prep. No chaos waiting for him. Just the hum of a normal shift. Abbott walked in alone and for a second just a second it almost felt like he could keep it that way. Until… “Dr. Abbott?” Kit of course it was Kit. Her voice caught him before anything else did, cutting through the noise like it always did, and when he looked up, she was already moving toward him, eyes scanning, taking him in too quickly, too carefully and then her expression changed. “What happened?” she asked, already at his side, already reaching for him before she could stop herself. “Nothing,” he said easily. Too easily. “It’s fine.”... “It’s not fine,” she shot back immediately, her hand hovering near his arm before finally settling lightly against it, testing, careful. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I don’t care.” That stopped him. Just for a second. Long enough for her to guide him toward a bed, her hand firm now, no hesitation in it. “Sit.” patting the bed  “I can take care of it—” Say it again “Sit.” And something in the way she said it was sharp, controlled, just this side of anger made him listen. Barely. He lowered himself onto the bed with a tight exhale, trying not to show how much it pulled at his shoulder. She noticed anyway of course she did. “Can you lift your arm?” she asked, already grabbing supplies, already moving like she’d done this a thousand times. He tried, but it didn't go well. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s fine.”... “That’s not fine,” she said again, softer this time, but no less firm. She stepped closer, eyes flicking over the cuts along his face, the scrape along his jaw, the blood dried into the collar of his shirt. “I need to see your shoulder.”

“I can—”

“You can’t,” she cut in, already reaching for the hem of his shirt. “You physically cannot, so stop pretending like you can.” There was a beat. A charged one and then she started cutting. The fabric gave easily under the scissors, falling away in pieces, exposing skin that was already bruising, already marked with shallow cuts and scrapes across his chest, his shoulder, his back where she could see it. And suddenly she was very aware of how close she was too close. Her fingers brushed his skin as she worked, careful, clinical—but not entirely steady. Heat crept up her neck, into her face, the awareness of him overwhelming in a way she hadn’t expected. Abbott felt it too. That shift, tension. The way her hands lingered just a second too long before pulling away. The way his breath caught was not from pain. Something else, something worse, he absolutely did not need. “You don’t have to—” he started, voice rougher now. “I do,” she said quickly, not looking at him. “You’re my patient right now.” still trying to work on him “That’s not… “Stop.” That did it. She lifted her hand and stepped away taking off her gloves to prove a point. The argument came fast after that because he couldn’t just sit there. Couldn't just let her take care of him. “I said I’ve got it,” he snapped, trying to push himself up, immediately regretting it when his shoulder screamed in protest “And I said you don’t,” she shot back, stepping in front of him, blocking him from moving. “You can’t even lift your arm, Abbott.” she snapped at him “I’ve handled worse than this alone.” in a low grown of pain  “Yeah? And how’s that working out for you right now?” He didn’t answer, and he didn't like the answer to that question. Didn’t like the way she was looking at him—like she saw right through it Through him “I don’t need you to—” she then reached for a new pair of gloves  “Well, I’m here anyway,” she snapped, frustration bleeding through now, something deeper under it that neither of them wanted to name. “So maybe just let me do my job for once instead of fighting me on everything.” That hit harder than it should have. Neither of them said anything. Then she stepped back one more time. Too abrupt and final. “Fine,” she muttered, dropping the gauze back onto the tray. “Do it yourself.” throwing the gloves at him  and she walked out.

Abbott sat there for a long second, alone. The shirt was cut off. Shoulder hanging wrong. Blood is still drying along his skin, and for the first time that night, he didn’t feel in control. Robby didn’t knock when he came in. He just walked in, took one look at the situation, and sighed like he’d been expecting it. “You’re an idiot,” he said simply. Abbott let out a short breath. “Not now…” Abbot said, "No, actually, now is perfect,” Robby shot back, crossing his arms. “Because what the hell was that?” Abbot tries to interrupt “I don’t need—” but it doesn't work. “She’s the one taking care of you,” Robby cut him off, voice sharp now. “And you just talked to her like that?” Abbott looked away, Jaw tight. “If a patient spoke to one of your nurses like that,” Robby continued, stepping closer, “you’d be on them in a second, yelling at them for the way they were speaking. So what makes you any different?” That landed because he didn’t have an answer.“Fix it, I don't care how, or I will.” Taking a beat, “and if you talk to her again, I swear to god I will come in here myself and break your other arm and let Dana watch,” furious at him . “Plus, I know you have a thing for her, and I am not letting you ruin it,” Robby finally said, walking out the door so only Abbot could hear him. 

By the time Brendon Park came down to pop his shoulder back into place, Abbott had gone quiet. Not the usual kind of quiet—controlled, observant, calculating. This was different, Still. His head tipped slightly forward, eyes unfocused like he wasn’t entirely in the room anymore, jaw tight as he replayed Robby’s words whether he wanted to or not. The echo of it sat heavy in his chest. Fix it. Like it was that easy. Like he knew how. Park barely spared him more than a glance as he walked in, already pulling on gloves like this was routine because with Abbott, it kind of was. “You’re still doing this shit?” Park sighed, not even bothering to hide the judgment. Abbott huffed out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh slipping through despite everything. “Apparently.” Park muttered “Yeah,” stepping closer, his eyes dropping to Abbott’s shoulder, assessing the slight misalignment, the way he was holding himself just a little too carefully. “Apparently.” There was a beat. Then, under his breath “Idiot.” Abbott didn’t argue. Didn’t have it in him this time. Park reached for his arm, firm but not unkind, fingers pressing along the joint, testing range, finding the exact point where everything sat wrong. Abbott’s muscles tensed on instinct, breath pulling tight in his chest. “This is going to hurt,” Park said, almost lazily but there was precision in the way he adjusted his grip, positioning him just right. “I know,” Abbott started But Park didn’t wait, Didn’t count down. Didn’t give him the chance to brace. He just did a sharp, controlled movement quick and exact and then a sickening pop as the joint slid back into place. The sound echoed louder than it should have. Abbott’s breath hitched, a low, involuntary exhale forcing its way out as the pain spiked and then just as quickly shifted. Not gone. Never gone. But different. Manageable. The deep, wrong pressure easing just enough to let him breathe again. His head dropped forward slightly, eyes closing for half a second as the tension drained out of his shoulders in slow increments. “Yeah,” Park said, stepping back like he’d just fixed a loose hinge instead of a dislocated joint. “That’ll do it.” Abbott rolled his shoulder cautiously, testing it, wincing at the lingering soreness but already trying to pretend it was nothing. “Try not to dislocate it again tonight,” Park added dryly, already turning away, already done with the whole situation. Abbott let out a quiet breath, flexing his fingers once before settling his arm back at his side. “No promises.” Park paused at the door just long enough to roll his eyes. “Of course not,” he muttered. But then he glanced back just for a second longer than necessary. Something softer there. Something that said take it easy without actually saying it. Then it was gone. And just like that he was out of the room. Leaving Abbott alone again, with the dull ache in his shoulder and, unfortunately alone with his own thoughts.

Robby didn’t let it end there. He found Kit halfway down the hall, hovering near the nurse’s station doing some charting so she could take a breather. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, fingers digging into her sleeves, eyes fixed on nothing in particular but he could see it all over her face. The frustration and embarrassment,  Something softer underneath it that she clearly didn’t want to look at too closely. “Hey,” Robby said, gentler than usual. She didn’t answer right away. Just let out a quiet breath. “I’m not going back in there.” shaking her head. “Yeah,” he nodded, like he expected that. “You are.” She let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Did you not just see how that went?” she stopped typing at this point  “I did,” he said simply. “And I think you’re taking it a little too personally.” That made her look at him in disbelief , disgust or disappointment that he said that to her. “He was being an ass, Robby.” she quickly replied  “Yeah,” he agreed easily. “He was.” That threw her off. That he doesn't have Abbot back. She blinked. “Okay… so why am I the one going back in there?” now she was questioning everything “Because,” Robby said, leaning his shoulder against the counter beside her, lowering his voice just enough that it felt like something meant only for her, “that’s not actually about you.” She didn’t look convinced. “He gets like that,” Robby continued. “When he’s hurt. When he’s not in control. When he can’t just push through something the way he normally does.” Robby now looks at her trying to see what she is thinking.  “He didn’t have to take it out on me,” she said,  “No,” Robby agreed again. “He didn’t. And I already told him that.” Her brows pulled together slightly. “You did?” Robby snickered, “Oh, yeah,” he huffed. “Pretty sure I called him out on his bullshit behavior and someone not so nice stuff” That earned the smallest flicker of a smile from her. “Look,” he added, softening a little more, “Abbott can be… a lot. You’ve seen that. He’s sharp, he’s stubborn, and when he’s in that headspace, he doesn’t always filter it.” while crossing his arm  “That’s a nice way of saying he’s mean,” she muttered.

Robby shrugged. “Sometimes he is.” There was a beat. “But he doesn’t mean it,” he said after a second. Kit looked at him again, searching this time trying to see if he was up to something and secretly wanting to make her life miserable or not.  “He’s used to taking care of everyone else,” Robby explained. “Being the one in control, the one who fixes things. The second that flips, the second he’s the one on the table… he hates it. And instead of just saying that like a normal person, he—” he gestured toward Abbot room, “—does that.” She let out a quiet breath, some of the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. “He shouldn’t have talked to you like that,” Robby added. “You didn’t deserve that. But don’t confuse him being bad at handling his own shit with you doing something wrong.” Her throat tightened slightly at that. “ Ok fine I will go back there but why choose me? why are you harping on me to do it?”  The part she hadn’t said out loud. “ because you already started with that mess I don't want to throw someone else into the shit hole” Robby replied “I wasn’t—” she started, then stopped, shaking her head. “I just… I was trying to help. I wasn't the one to make the shit hole ” pointing in that general area “I know,” Robby said. “And you did.” She frowned. “Didn’t feel like it.” Then he cut her off  “That’s because he’s an idiot,” Robby said again, easy, but then his tone shifted just enough to matter. “But you’re a good nurse, Kit. A really good one.” She stilled and he continued. “You saw what he needed, you stepped in, you took control of the situation—even when he was pushing back. That’s not easy. Especially with someone like him.” Her eyes dropped for a second, processing that. “Why are you kissing my ass so much, you are never like this” She swallowed worried that he was going to get yelled at for the way she said it but she didn't know how else to say it and too much, probably. “Give him a little grace,” Robby said after a moment. “Not because he deserves a free pass but because you’re going to see that side of him again. And if you take it personally every time, it’s going to wear you down and it will make you a better nurse” She nodded slowly. “And give yourself some too,” he added, softer now. “You handled that better than most people would’ve.” For a second, neither of them said anything and where just looking at eachother, kit saying in her head what the fuck. Then Robby nudged his head toward the room. “Great it looks like Dr. Park just left and he's in there trying to put on a shirt like it’s his first day with arms,” he said dryly. “So… maybe go save him from himself.” That pulled a real smile out of her this time. “Okay,” she said. She turned toward the room and paused at the door to see what he was trying to do and then she stepped inside.

Abbott was trying and failing to pull on a clean shirt with one arm. She didn’t say anything at first.

Just walked over. Took the shirt from him. “Stop,” she said quietly And this time he did. “Can I finish cleaning your wound first before we put the shirt on?” before looking at the shirt and seeing how it was an over shirt that would be hard to get into “do you have another shirt?” Abbot looked at her hand and said “no” then she looked at him and realized he was shirtless again and got bothered about it “do you have one in your locker?” asking while she was turning pink in the cheeks and Abbot see this stand up and look at her and take one step closer to her “i dont know let me go check” before slipping out and going to his locker and he knew he had one in there he always does and by the time he came back kit was talking to Gabbie in the hallway still holding my shirt “can i take that now” now shirtless, hand out for my shirt in front of both of them she both stood there for a sec speechless and Gabbie quickly said “I am going to check in on my patients now” before speed walking away then kit gave me my shirt back “ok miss kennedy let clean these quickly” She helped him get cleaned up and get all the Debris out of the cuts. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. She paused. Just for a second not feeling the q-tip on his forehead 

“I didn’t mean to be… mean to you,” he added, voice low. “I was—”...  “Mad,” she finished for him.

“Yeah.” he slowly said “At yourself,” she said. He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah.” She nodded, adjusting the fabric over his shoulder. “You’re still an ass.” he quickly responded “Fair.” she was moving to a new spot on his chest and there was a beat. Then “Why do you do this?” she asked. He looked at her. She stopped working on his wound so she could see too “My therapist told me I needed a hobby,” he said lightly. “Something active.” Her expression didn’t change.“That’s your hobby?” she asked flatly. “Breaking into burning buildings, getting shot at?” with no hesitation. “It’s not that bad.” she shot back “It is that bad,” frustration slipping through again. “You should think about a new hobby, because this one feels like a death sentence waiting to happen.” He didn’t argue, didn't joke, just watched her. As she continued to work not wanting to ruin the moment  “You don’t get burnt out?” she added, softer now. “Doing all of this? Doesn’t anyone worry about you?” He signs without saying anything and changes the topic “You’re the second person in thirty minutes to tell me to rethink my hobbies,” he said instead. “Good,” she muttered. “Maybe you’ll listen.” He rebuttals “Maybe.” Then she put him into his new shirt, careful, slower now, her hands steady again but softer than before, brushing his skin in a way that felt intentional this time. The air between them shifted again, heavier, quieter. By the time she finished, the room had gone quiet again. The tension hadn’t. If anything It had shifted. Deepened. She looked at him differently now, Softer, Worried and something else he couldn’t afford to name. He felt it too, that pull. That dangerous, familiar edge of something he shouldn’t want because she wasn’t something he could have and that made her worse than anything else. Worse than the fire, Worse than the fall because this was the kind of adrenaline he didn’t know how to survive and for the first time he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Little family visit 

Chapter 8 

Kit was sitting in the main area when one of the nurses from the waiting room came up to her “Your brother is here with your niece and his wife.” She looks at her fear not knowing exactly what she said, until it clicks and stops doing her charts and heads to the waiting room to find them. She didn’t ask the nurse any questions. I didn't think so. I just eagerly walked into the messy room, weaving past chairs, past patients, past the low hum of controlled chaos that never really stopped in the ER. Her heart was already racing before even seeing them and then she saw them. Cole stood near the check-in desk, shoulders tense in that way she recognized immediately like he was trying to hold it together for everyone else. Brittany was beside him, pale, one hand pressed gently against Amelia’s back. Kit’s breath caught, Two years old. Covered in blood, an ice pack clutched awkwardly to her forehead, tiny fingers gripping it like she knew she wasn’t supposed to let go. Blood streaked down her face, dried and fresh all at once, tangled in her hair, staining the front of her little shirt and beneath it all a swelling. Big. Angry. Already forming. “Hey—hey, I’m here,” Kit said instantly, her voice shifting into something softer, steadier, even as her chest tightened. She dropped down in front of Amelia, careful, slow, letting the little girl see her. Amelia’s lip trembled. “Aunt Kit…” and headed toward her so she could have a hug in this scary time “I know, baby. I know.” while rubbing her back. “Let go into the back and take care of you ok” Cole exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “She ran full speed into the car door. Just—right into the corner of it. It split open immediately. There was so much blood—” Brittany added quickly “She won’t let us touch it,” her voice shaking. “She’ll hold it herself, but if we try—she screams.” Kit nodded, already assessing, already shifting into nurse mode even as something protective and deeply personal twisted in her chest.

“Okay. Okay, you did the right thing coming here.” kit said recognizing that they came here from Connellsville, that Two hours with traffic. Her jaw tightened just slightly. “Come on,” she said, standing. “I’ve got you.” and then picking Amelia up and putting it on her hip to make it easier to bring her inside. She didn’t wait for triage clearance. Didn’t ask. She just brought them back. No one stopped her either. They knew better especially because this is Dana's grand niece too. The room was small but quiet, tucked just enough away from the main chaos. Kit put Amelia carefully onto the bed, talking to her the whole time, soft, reassuring, steady. “I know, it looks scary, but you’re okay. You’re so brave, you know that?” Amelia clutched the ice pack tighter. Kit crouched in front of her, trying to peek. “Can I just look? I won’t touch, I promise.” Amelia shook her head immediately, pressing her hand harder to her forehead. Which she was trying not to do in case of anything major  “hey amelia and need to ask you something very important” she waited for amelia “yes”... i need you to be still as possibly ok so no dance party, ok” and Amelia agreed, Kit swallowed. “Okay,” she said gently. “Ok i know you dont want me too but i need to look at you head that’s okay. We’ll go slow.” but Amelia does not let up and does allow Kit to see it. She glanced up at Cole. “Stay with her. I’m gonna grab some things—and I’ll get Dana. And I need a doctor for numbing, okay? We’re not doing anything that hurts her.” Cole nodded immediately. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever you need.” Kit moved fast to find Dana. She found her halfway down the hall. “Hey—I need you. Amelia is her and she has a head injury, deep, she won’t let anyone touch it can you go in and try to look at it she in south 14” dana face fell “that poor thing” and head that way Kit exhaled,  and then yell back toward her before she out of  ear shot  “I’m gonna find a doc for Amelia. Can you grab vitals?” Dana didn’t even hesitate “Already on it.” and immediately hit the wall of reality she asked everyone if they had time for her niece but everyone was busy because we were short staffed today and traumas were still rolling in. Beds full. Doctors tied up. “Forty-five minutes,” someone told her without even looking up. But that is too long, Amelia had already been in pain for two hours. She turned there was… Prince Charming Dr. Abbott. Walking in like he always did like the chaos bent just slightly around him instead of the other way around. Jacket half on, tired but sharp, already scanning the floor.

Kit didn’t think. She just slid across the floor  “Dr. Abbott—” she called, already closing the distance, already reaching for him. Her hand caught his arm soft, instinctive so they were walking together for two strides then he stopped, and looked down at her. And for a second, something flickered across his face, surprise, maybe. Because she didn’t do this, Didn’t grab him. Didn’t look like this. All wide eyes and urgency and something softer underneath it. She tilted her head slightly, hands pulling together in front of her almost unconsciously.

“Can you—please—come look at my niece?” she said, voice tipping into something sweet, almost playful despite the situation. “I just need to get med pushing and put her in for a CT. Me or Dana can stitch it, I promise, but she’s been in pain for two hours and I will literally do anything for coffee for a month. I'll make you a cake, name it and I’ll do it.” She stopped in front of him, hands clasped, looking up at him like she was trying very hard not to beg. There was a beat. Abbott just… looked at her and he never realized how short she was and here he was…  A little thrown. I am a little amused. A little Something else. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, one brow lifting slightly. “I’m desperate,” she shot back quickly. “ i didnt know i was that low on the you list on who the best attending is” little bit of his teasing and charming coming through. “You know that's not true but I just really need your help and you're the only person that can”  He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head just a little. “Alright,” he said finally. “Yes. But let me put my stuff in my locker first.” Relief hit her so fast she almost laughed.

“And later,” he added, glancing at her again, something teasing settling into his tone, “we’ll discuss my payment.” and before ending the statement, he winked at her. Kit grinned despite everything. “Deal.” By the time she got back to the room, Dana was already there, gently trying to distract Amelia. “Good news,” Kit said, stepping in. “Dr. Abbott’s coming.” Dana gave her a quick disbelief look, knowing he wasn't even on the clock and she had pulled some major string to get him in here but didn’t say anything. He walked in and everything shifted. Abbott didn’t come in like a doctor, He came in like… something softer. He fake-tripped over the edge of the doorway, catching himself dramatically. “Whoa—okay, that’s embarrassing,” he muttered, glancing around like anyone had seen. Then leaned over whispering in a weird voice “ ok good i dont like anyone saw it that will have to be our little secretary between us”  Amelia blinked then giggled just like that. Kit froze. Because she and Dana had been trying for ten minutes and he got it in seconds. He crouched down to her level, lowering himself carefully. “Hi there. I heard you’ve got a pretty impressive battle wound.” She stared at him, still clutching her head wanting anyone to touch it. He then sit in the sliding stool “hey, amelia i really need to look at it and i swear i wont touch it but i can make it better if i can see it” she still Hesitant to let go and show the wound “how about this if you show me you cut i will share another secret of mine ok” she agree to and move her hand and ice back “perfect” he said leaning over and putting his hand behind his back so amelia doesnt worry and he able to see a clear view of the cut. He tells Dana and me what to order and what drugs to put and smiles down at her and whispers in her ear so only she can hear and then lifts up her leg to show off his prosthetic. Her eyes went wide. “No way.”... “Way,” he nodded seriously. “It makes me extra cool.” Kit looked away, biting back a smile because of course he did this.

He pulled a lollipop from his pocket somehow and handed it to her like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Official hospital currency,” he said. Amelia took it immediately and just like that the fear eased.

He pulled Cole and Brittany outside the room leaving me and Dana in there so he could discuss the case and what the plan is moving forward. Seeing through the window how he even got Brittany exhaled, her shoulders finally dropping and more relaxed. Then dana leaning over with you are putting medicine in the IV “how did you pull that off with Mr.Dreamy” Kit look wide eye at the floor a second then quickly responded “i beg him and i told him that i owed him a favor” dana chucked “do i want to know the favor miss “ you whipped your head around turning pink “get your head out of the gutter dana, favors like get him coffee for a month or something like that” taking a pause “ i cant believe you just asked me that and in front of amelia too” Dana put hands up in innocence “Hey I just had ask”. Kit Ignoring the way her chest tightened when he stood just a little too close. Ignoring the way his hand brushed hers when they both reached for the same gauze. Ignoring everything that wasn’t the patient. When they come back in after talking to Dr. Abbot Kit gently convinced Cole and Brittany to take a break, promising she would stay with Amelia every second and Dana walked them out of the room and told them where it was . “Go to the cafeteria, just for a little,” she told them softly, her hand resting on Brittany’s arm in a way that was both reassuring and firm. “I’ve got her. I’ll come get you as soon as we’re done.” They hesitated of course they did but the steadiness in Kit’s voice, the way she had already slipped so naturally into control of the situation, was enough. Reluctantly, they left, glancing back more than once before disappearing down the hall. That left the room quieter. Smaller. Just Kit, Amelia, and Abbott. Amelia sat on the bed, sniffling but calmer now, clutching the lollipop Abbott had given her like it was the most important thing in the world. Kit stayed close, one hand smoothing over her hair, the other resting lightly on her back, murmuring little reassurances under her breath soft, patient, instinctive. She didn’t rush her. Didn’t push. Just stayed. Abbott watched it all from the counter, chart open in front of him, pen moving but slower than it should have been. Because he wasn’t really focused on the chart. He was watching her. The way she knelt down to Amelia’s level without thinking. The way her voice softened, shifted, became something warmer, something that felt like home. The way Amelia leaned into her, trusting her completely, even through the fear and the pain. It did something to him. Something quiet. Something dangerous. Kit would be a good mother. The thought came out of nowhere uninvited, immediate, and far too certain. His pen paused for half a second. He shouldn’t be thinking that, not about her, not like that. Not when she worked under him. Not when there were lines already blurred in ways he hadn’t fully dealt with. Not when every instinct he had was telling him to take a step back and every other part of him was doing the opposite.

He cleared his throat slightly, forcing his attention back to the chart, writing a little more firmly now like that would ground him again. “Alright,” he said after a moment, voice back to something neutral. “CT should be ready.” Kit nodded, already shifting, lifting Amelia carefully into her arms and put her into a wheelchair and wheeled her upstairs. “I’ll take her up and I will grab someone else as well”...  “I know you will,” he replied, quieter than he meant to. Their eyes met for just a second something passing between them, unspoken, lingering and then she turned, heading out into the hallway. She asked Erica to come because she hadn't done this before and she thought it would be a good tour of the area. The walk to CT was calmer than the rest of the ER, the chaos fading into something more controlled. Amelia rested in the chair so small she looked like she was getting swallowed by it and her small hands gripping the fabric of her scrubs, her breathing finally evening out. Kit adjusted her slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head without even thinking about it, Before Erica pushed her in And then she heard a voice “Miss Kennedy.” Kit turned toward the sound of the voice and it was Dr. Robby. He was standing a few feet away, hands loosely at his sides, eyes flicking between her and Amelia, taking in the situation quickly like he always did. “What’ve we got?” he asked. “Head laceration,” Kit said. “CT to rule out fracture. She’s okay, just scared.” Robby nodded once,"I heard it was your niece.” Kit quickly responded “yes but I have had other doctors and nurses there while she has been in care”  then tilted his head slightly, something curious slipping into his expression. “Who did you get to help you this fastly?” Kit didn’t hesitate. “Abbott had just walked in so she asked him.” There was a pause, small but noticeable. Robby’s mouth twitched, almost like he was suppressing a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something more controlled sat underneath it, something tighter. “Of course he did,” he said lightly.

But there was an edge to it. “What do you mean by that?”  Kit felt it, even if she couldn’t fully name it.

Robby’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary, then shifted away, his expression settling back into something professional—something contained. “I will see you down stairs, Miss Kennedy." And just like that, he turned and walked off. Kit watched him go, a faint crease forming between her brows, the interaction sitting oddly in her chest. Not wrong just… loaded. Like there was something there she wasn’t fully aware of yet. Soon after Amelia came back out with Erica and Amelia shifted in her arms, to get her attention back then kit kneeling down to get on eye level “Hey,” Kit whispered, brushing her thumb gently along her cheek. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” and she stood up and walked next to her. But she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had just shifted again.

Luckily the CT came back good, No fracture. No internal bleeding. She just needs seven stitches. Abbot ends up doing the stitches instead of me or Dana doing them. Amelia cried of course she did but she held Kit’s hand the whole time, and Abbott talked her through it like it was nothing like he had all the time in the world. When it was done Kit looked at him really with thankful eyes but also hated how much she liked this version of him with her niece. Him with kids, she cant even think that way but the way he was acting with Amelia today. He is so gentle, patient, and easy. It did something to her chest she didn’t want to name. She thinks she might be getting baby fever from all of this and judging by the way he looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention it was doing something to him too. Amelia ended up being Kit’s last patient of the day. By the time the stitches were done, the bleeding controlled, and discharge instructions carefully explained to Cole and Brittany twice, because Kit knew they wouldn’t remember half of it once they got home the adrenaline had finally started to wear off. Amelia was sleepy now, curled into Brittany’s shoulder, her small hand still loosely gripping the edge of Kit’s scrub top like she didn’t fully want to let go. “I’ll come see you this weekend, okay?” Kit whispered, brushing a soft kiss against her hair. Amelia nodded against her, already drifting. Kit watched them leave for a second longer than she needed to, making sure they were really okay before letting herself step back into the rhythm of the ER.

Kit heads to the locker room to change and she sees Gabbie in there too telling her “wait a minute before walking into her car because I have to talk to you about something”. Gabbie gave her a look and then agrees. She clocked out, “…One second,” she said quickly, already backing up. “I’ll be right back.” Then I walked toward the main floor of the ER, the familiar beep of the machine started to sound louder, feeling strangely anticlimactic after everything that had happened. Her body aching and her feet feeling like they were run over and Before she could think too hard about it before she could talk herself out of it once she was back, weaving through the now-familiar chaos of the ER, scanning for him. It didn’t take long. Abbott was exactly where he always was somewhere in the middle of everything, chart in hand, already half pulled into another case, his focus sharp and distant in that way that meant his shift was about to take over completely. Kit slowed just slightly as she approached, her confidence slipping for half a second. “Hey—” she said, catching his attention. He looked up immediately and there it was that shift. That flicker of recognition, of something softer underneath everything else. “You alright?” he asked, eyes scanning her quickly, like he was still half in doctor mode. “I’m good,” she said, brushing it off with a small smile. Then, after a beat “Did you decide on what I owe you?” There was the smallest pause and then that look.  The one that always got her a little off balance His mouth pulled into something slow, deliberate. Not rushed. Not casual. Something that felt like it was meant just for her. “No,” he said, voice easy, but threaded with something just underneath it. “Not yet.” Kit crossed her arms lightly, trying to play it off. “Oh, so you forgot already?” His eyes flicked down just briefly to where her arms folded across her chest, then back up to her face. “No,” he said again, softer this time. “I think I am going to save it for a rainy day.” then he winked, it was subtle and quick but it landed. Kit rolled her eyes immediately, shaking her head like it didn’t affect her at all, but the small smile she couldn’t quite suppress gave her away. “Of course you are,” she muttered. She turned and started backing away toward the exit, her back toward him, lifting a hand in a half-wave over her shoulder. “Ok, well goodnight Dr. Abbott.” It came out way more flirt then she met but just moved on pretending that it didn't happen. He didn’t answer but she could feel his eyes on her. While she walked away. And she hated how aware of him but also secretly loved how aware of him. Outside, Gabbie was exactly where she left her arms crossed, expression already knowing. Kit barely made it two steps toward her before it all came spilling out.

Kit barely made it to Gabbie before everything started spilling out. It wasn’t even a slow build—it just… came out. Fast, messy, half-whispered and half-panicked as she grabbed Gabbie’s arm and pulled her a few steps away from the entrance like the walls themselves might overhear. “Okay no, you don’t understand,” Kit started, already shaking her head. “Today was insane. Like not just with my niece but everything.” Gabbie blinked, immediately hooked. “Start from the beginning.” She told her about Amelia the blood, the Brittany panic, the way her heart had dropped the second she saw her. How she had slipped into nurse mode without even thinking, how she had pushed her family straight through the system like instinct had taken over. Because then she got to him. “And everyone was busy,” Kit said, pacing now, hands moving as she talked. “Like, actually busy. They said forty-five minutes, Gabbie. Forty-five. And she’d already been in pain for two hours and I just—” she exhaled sharply. “And then he walked in.” Gabbie’s mouth curved into a smirk immediately. “Of course he did.”...  “Don’t,” Kit pointed at her. “Don’t do that.” But she kept going anyway. She told her everything—how she went up to him, how she grabbed his arm without thinking, how she asked. Not professionally. Not normally. But like… that. “I literally said I would get him coffee every day for a month,” Kit groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “And bake him a cake. A cake, Gabbie. Who am I?” Gabbie was trying not to laugh. Failing. “And he said yes,” Kit continued quickly, like that somehow made it worse. “But not like—just yes. He was—” she faltered for a second, trying to find the word. “He was looking at me.” Gabbie’s eyebrows lifted. “Looking how?” Kit hesitated. “…Like he knew exactly what I was doing,” she admitted quietly. “And it didn't stop.” That landed between them. And then Kit kept going—about how he was with Amelia, how he made her laugh, how gentle he was, how easy it all felt. Too easy. “And then—” she said, breath catching just slightly, “after everything, I went back to ask him what I owed him.” Gabbie leaned in. “And?” Kit rolled her eyes, but there was a softness there she couldn’t hide. “And I said, ‘did you decide on what I owe you?’ trying to be normal like normal normal and he just” She stopped for a second. Because even now, it lingered. “No,” Kit said, repeating him, her voice unconsciously dropping into something quieter, closer to his tone. “He said again, softer this time. ‘I think I am going to save it for a rainy day.’” Gabbie’s face lit up. “Oh my god.”... “And then he winked,” Kit added quickly, like that part mattered more than she wanted it to. Gabbie grabbed her arm. “He winked at you?” Kit said, a little too loudly “Yes!” then “And I panicked, okay? I literally just said, ‘Ok, well goodnight Dr. Abbott.’” She groaned again, dropping her head back. “And it came out wrong, like way more flirty than I meant it to.”

Gabbie stared at her for a second And then said  “Oh, he likes you.” in a teasing know it all loving voice Kit snapped her head back up. “No.”

“Yes,” Gabbie said immediately, completely sure. “Are you kidding? He winked at you. Doctors don’t just wink at people they supervise for fun.” Kit shook her head, stepping back like she could physically distance herself from the idea. “No he probably does this to everyone and does it all the time, i mean we dont know how he is during night shift that much and dana also told me on my first day that he was a flirt i mean he know for “”prince charming””  of the Pitt” she explain trying to make everything justified  “I know exactly what I’m talking about.” Gabbie said, crossing her arm and giving you a look  “No” Kit insisted. Kit thinks about how Gabbie only knows about the bar, and you know about today. That’s it she doesn't know all the other small interactions. So much more. How they almost touch each other. The moments that lingered too long. The way he looked at her sometimes when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. The way she did notice.  Kit exhaled sharply, shaking her head again. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” Gabbie crossed her arms. “Why?” then putting her hand in her hair  “Because I can’t do that,” Kit said, more firmly now. “I can’t—he’s my boss. Technically. That’s already a problem and Dana,” Kit added quickly. “Dana would kill me. Not actually but like she already told me to stay away from him and she would judge me. Hard. And I—” she cut herself off, frustration building. “I just can’t be that girl. I’m not going to be that girl.”…a quick exhale “the one that slept with her attending”  Gabbie softened a little at that, studying her. Kit let out another breath, quieter this time, her shoulders dropping just slightly. “I worked too hard to get here,” she said. “I’m not about to mess it up over something that’s… complicated.” There was a pause. Then Kit gave a small, almost tired smile, now standing next to Gabbie's car. “So whatever this is—” she added softly, more to herself than anything, “it stays exactly where it is.” Gabbie gave her one last Pitty smiles and hugging her then kit was off walking to her car 

Unspoken.

Untouched.

Rooftop 

Chapter 7: 

Thursday felt lighter than it had any right to. The ER still hummed—monitors beeping, stretchers rolling, voices overlapping—but nothing was crashing down all at once. No mass casualty. No chaos swallowing the room whole. Just a steady, manageable rhythm. And somehow, right in the middle of it, Kit was… glowing. It showed in everything. In the way she moved between beds like she had music in her head, light on her feet, quicker with her hands but somehow softer too. In the way she cracked jokes under her breath while adjusting IV lines “Alright sir, if you rip this out again, I’m charging you rent for the room” earning a weak laugh from a patient who had been grimacing seconds before. On the way she bumped hips with Erica at the nurse’s station, stealing his pen and holding it just out of reach. “Finders keepers,” she teased, already walking away while he groaned after her. She was impossible to miss. A little spark moving through the controlled chaos, bright enough that people felt it when she passed by. Even the tension in the room seemed to dip around her, just slightly, like she carried something lighter with her and left pieces of it behind. It had been weeks and months since anyone had seen her like this. And it made sense. Tomorrow, she was off. Her first Friday off in three months. No alarms. No shift. No fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Just sleep, and maybe drinks with her friends, and a version of herself that existed outside of this place. “Someone’s in a suspiciously good mood,” Lena muttered as they passed each other, bumping shoulders. Kit shot her a grin, brighter than usual, eyes a little mischievous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is just my natural charm.” Lena snorted. “It’s alarming.” “Don’t ruin it,” Kit shot back, already half-laughing as she moved past her.

Even Abbott noticed. He didn’t say anything at first just paused for a second across the trauma bay, watching her without meaning to. Just… noticing. The way she laughed was easier. The way she filled space without trying. The way people leaned into her energy without even realizing it. Like she was a break in the night they didn’t know they needed. A ray of sunshine. In a place that rarely ever saw it.

It didn’t last, the call came in quietly. No sirens screaming urgency. No rush of bodies behind it. Just a girl, Sam and the second Kit heard the reason for her visit, something inside her shifted. “I’ve got it,” Kit said automatically, already stepping forward. She was the only one certified to handle these exams. The only one trained for it. The only one who understood it. The room they moved Sam into felt too still. Too clinical. Too exposed. It always did. Kit kept her voice soft, steady, grounding—walking her through everything before she did it, never touching her without warning, giving her control wherever she could. “You’re in control here, okay?” Kit said gently, crouched just enough to meet her eyes. “We go at your pace. You can stop me at any time.” Sam nodded, but her eyes were already distant. Like she was trying not to be there at all. It took three hours. Three hours of pauses. Of breathing. Of silence stretching too long. Of Sam needing breaks just to exist inside her own body again. And Kit stayed with her through all of it, talking her through every step, reminding her over and over “This doesn’t define you.”... “You’re so strong for being here.” “I know this is hard.” Because she did know. Too well, And somewhere in the middle of it, it stopped being just Sam’s story. The room blurred. The gloves on her hands didn’t feel like hers anymore. The words she was saying felt rehearsed, like something she had once been told. The cold. The exposure. The quiet hum of a space that didn’t feel safe no matter how much people tried to make it that way. Her breath hitched. She blinked hard, trying to stay present. Trying to stay here. But the memory came anyway. Uninvited. Sharp. And suddenly she was in both places at once. Her hands faltered for half a second before she forced them steady again. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice just barely holding. “You’re doing so good. We’re almost done, okay?” Sam didn’t notice. Or maybe she did, but she was too far gone in her own mind to say anything. By the time the support worker came in, Kit was running on something thin and frayed. She gave the final instructions, her voice quieter now, stepping back, letting someone else take over. “You’re in good hands,” she told Sam gently, even though her own felt like they weren’t anymore. She sealed the kit. I walked it to the fridge. Place it inside carefully and then she just… stood there.

For a second.

For longer than a second.

Like her body had forgotten what came next.

“Kit?” She blinked, turning slightly as Lena passed by, immediately clocking the exhaustion written all over her face. “Hey—go take a break,” Lena said softly. Not a suggestion. A quiet insistence. Kit nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” And then she was moving slowly but surely, then begging to pick up the speed because she could feel her feeling climbing up her throat and it wasn't running but close to her away from everyone, up the stairs. Past the floors. Up to the roof. The one place she knew no one would be. The door creaked open, and the air hit her face, sharp and cold, and the second it closed behind her, She broke down  She sank down against the wall, tucking herself into the corner like she could make herself smaller, knees pulled to her chest, head dropping forward as the sobs came hard and fast and unstoppable. She pressed her face into her arms, trying to muffle it, like someone might still hear her. Like she wasn’t allowed to fall apart like this. Downstairs, Abbott noticed her absence before he realized he was looking for her. “Do you know where Kit is?” he asked Lena, casually but not quite. Lena shrugged “Told her to take a break. She headed toward the stairs.” That was enough. He checked the stairwell first. Not seeing her see it was empty. Then look at other parts of the hospital that people go to when they need a break and something in his chest tightens… The roof  

By the time he pushed the door open, he already knew. He saw her immediately. Curled in on herself. Small. Shaking. And it stopped him cold. For a second just a beat he hesitated, because for the first time since he’d met her, he had no idea what to do. Kit was never like this. He didn’t know what had happened, what had cracked her open enough to end up here like this, hidden away where no one could see. She was sharp, quick, always a step ahead, always ready with something smart or sarcastic that made the long nights easier for everyone else. She filled space. Brightened it. Made the Pitt feel less like something you had to survive. This was something else. Something fragile,Something that made something protective and instinctive rise up in him so fast it almost felt like anger.He stepped closer anyway. Slow. Careful Like approaching something that might disappear if he moved too fast. He crouched in front of her, close enough now to hear the uneven rhythm of her breathing, the way it caught and broke like she couldn’t quite get enough air but she still hadn’t noticed him. His hand hovered for a second. He knew he shouldn’t. He was her attending. Her boss. There were lines clear ones he had spent years not crossing. But then she shifted slightly, another quiet, broken sound slipping out of her, and that was it. He reached out. Gently. Carefully. His hand resting against her knee. Her head snapped up instantly, eyes wide—terrified. And it hit him harder than anything else.

Not just that she was crying. But she looked scared. “Hey—hey,” he said quickly, softer than she had ever heard him, his voice dropping without thought, instinctively gentler, like he was trying not to startle her further. She tried to wipe her tears away fast, like she could hide it. Like he hadn’t already seen. It didn’t work. She kept crying anyway. And he just… looked at her. For a second too long. Like something inside him was deciding before he had the chance to stop it. Before he could remind himself who he was supposed to be at this moment. 

Then he moved. He pulled her into him. Firm. Certain. Like it was the only option. She folded into him like she had nowhere else to go, her face pressing into his chest as the sobs came harder, breaking through whatever control she had left. His arms wrapped around her without hesitation, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, holding her there like he could anchor her back into herself. And God— Something about it undid him.The way she fit there. The way she trusted him without even thinking. The way his body reacted before his mind could catch up. Neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. The world felt far away up here. Muted. Distant. Like the hospital—and everything that came with it—had been shut out completely. Her hands gripped his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like she needed something solid to hold onto. His grip tightened in response. Protective. Possessive in a way that startled him. It lasted longer than it should have. Long enough that someone could have come up and seen them. Long enough that he should have pulled away. But he didn’t. Because something inside him had shifted. His chest felt tight, like something was pulling too sharply at it—too much, too fast—and it didn’t make sense. Not after this morning, when he’d caught himself watching her just because she was happy. Not after realizing he’d been looking for her without meaning to, just to make the day feel a little lighter. And Now she was like this And all he could think about was fixing it. Taking whatever had done this to her and ripping it apart. Making sure she never had to feel like this again. The thought hit him hard enough that it almost scared him. Because it wasn’t professional. It wasn’t controlled.

It wasn’t something he could explain away as concern for a nurse on his team. It was something else. Something that blurred too close to a line he knew he couldn’t cross. And still— He didn’t let go. He didn’t want to. Not even when he knew he should. She was the one who pulled back first. Barely. Just enough to breathe. Not far enough to break it completely. Close enough that if he moved—if he wanted to—he could have pulled her right back into him. And for a split second He almost did.“I—” she tried, her voice breaking. “Shh,” he murmured, softer now. “You don’t need to explain.” Her eyes flickered up to his. Too close. They were too close. And for one suspended second, everything else dropped away—the hospital, the rules, the hierarchy, the fact that he was her attending, her boss, the person she wasn’t supposed to look at like this. But she did. And he felt it. It passed between them, quiet but unmistakable. And it made something in his chest tighten all over again. He stood first. Because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he would. He offered her his hand, pulling her up with him, his grip steady, grounding—but lingering just a fraction too long once she was on her feet. “You need to go home?” he asked, searching her face, trying to pull himself back into something professional. Controlled. She shook her head immediately. “No. I need to work. I need to—” She swallowed, looking down. “I need to keep my head off it.” She kept going, quieter now, like she was convincing herself more than him. “I need to prove to myself that I’m normal. That this doesn’t define me. That it’s… past me.” He watched her as she spoke. And something in him pushed forward again. That same instinct. To fix it. To take it away. To protect her from something he didn’t even fully understand. His hand came up before he could stop it—slow, hesitant—brushing against her cheek, guiding her to look at him. The touch was light. But it lingered. Too intimate. Too much. “I don’t think you should go back today,” he said quietly. “But it’s your decision.” Her breath caught. Not just because of what he said. But because of how close he still was. Because his hand hadn’t moved neither of them were stepping back for a second, it felt like neither of them wanted to and that was the problem. He dropped his hand first. Like he remembered himself. Who he was supposed to be. He shook his head slightly, stepping back, putting space between them before he crossed a line he couldn’t come back from. “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree,” he added, a softer edge slipping into his voice despite himself. “You’re just like Dana in that way” and then he turned. Forced himself to. Walking back toward the door, back toward the hospital, back toward the version of himself that knew where the line was even if he was starting to realize he didn’t want it there anymore.

Just like that, by the time she made it back downstairs, it was like nothing had happened. He was different again. Colder. Sharper. Entirely professional. The softness from the roof was gone, replaced with something controlled, something deliberate. He moved around her instead of toward her, spoke to her only when necessary, his tone even and detached like he was putting distance there on purpose. He avoided her, Not in a way anyone else would catch but enough. Enough that she noticed, that it felt like whiplash. Like she had imagined the whole thing. Like she had made it bigger than it actually was. Like maybe she had read into something that had never really been there to begin with but he hadn’t imagined it. If anything, it had shaken him more because for a second up there, he had forgotten every boundary he had ever set, every rule he lived by in a place like this and he didn’t know what to do with the fact that he hadn’t wanted to remember them. “Kit.” Lena’s voice pulled her back before she could fully step into the rhythm of the floor again. She turned, barely holding herself together in a way only someone paying attention would notice. “Are you sure you’re good?” Lena asked gently. “It’s okay if you’re not. You can go home.”… “Yeah,” Kit said too quickly. Too firmly. “I’m fine.” The words came out automatic. Practiced. Lena studied her for a second longer, like she didn’t quite buy it—but she didn’t push. She just nodded softly and stepped forward, pulling Kit into one more hug, grounding and warm in a way that almost made everything crack open again. Then she let her go. And just like that, the shift carried on. The ER moved around her like it always did—patients, charts, voices, the constant hum of controlled chaos—but something had shifted. People noticed. They always did. It passed quietly between them in subtle ways—glances held a second too long, conversations lowered just enough when she walked by, the kind of silent understanding that didn’t need to be spoken out loud. No one asked her directly. No one pushed. But they knew something was off. By the end of the night, Kit was exhausted in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix.

She drove home slower than usual. The roads were mostly empty, the city finally exhaling after the weight of the night shift, streetlights stretching long across the pavement as she moved through them one by one. The radio was on, but low—just noise more than anything—something to fill the silence without asking anything of her. Her hands stayed tight on the wheel, knuckles pale, like if she loosened her grip even a little, everything she had been holding together all night might come undone again.

She replayed it without meaning to. Sam’s voice. The room. The feeling of not being able to breathe. And then Him. The way his arms had wrapped around her without hesitation. The way he had said her name without actually saying it. The way his hand had stayed on her just a second longer than it should have. Her chest tightened. She swallowed hard, blinking against it, forcing her eyes back on the road. By the time she pulled onto her street, the quiet felt heavier. Too loud in its own way. She parked in front of her house but didn’t move right away. The engine idled. Her hands stayed on the wheel. And she just… sat there. Taking a breath. Then another. Trying to settle herself back into her body, back into something that felt normal—whatever that even meant anymore. Her head tipped back against the seat, eyes closing for a second, exhaustion pressing in now that she wasn’t actively fighting against it. Everything from the night sat heavy in her chest, layered and tangled pain, memory, pride for getting through it, and something else she didn’t know what to do with. Something that felt a lot like him.

She let out a slow breath, steadying herself. “You’re fine,” she murmured under her breath, like if she said it enough, it might become true. After a moment, she finally turned the car off. Silence rushed in. She grabbed her bag, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the cool night air, locking the car behind her out of habit. The walk up to her door was short, familiar, safe in a way the hospital never was. She fumbled with her keys for a second longer than usual before finally getting the door open, stepping inside and closing it firmly behind her and just like that She was alone. Down the street, parked just far enough back to stay unnoticed, Abbott sat in his car. He had followed her without thinking about it too hard. Kept a distance Stayed just out of sight. Told himself the entire drive that it was nothing.

Just making sure she got home safe. Just responsibility, the kind of thing any attending would do after a shift like that. He watched as her car pulled in as she didn’t get out right away. His jaw tightened slightly because he knew that pause. Knew what it meant to sit there and try to gather yourself before facing everything waiting on the other side of the door. He leaned back slightly in his seat, exhaling slowly, forcing himself not to go any closer. Not to check. Not to push past a boundary he had already come too close to crossing. Finally she moved, got out and went inside. Only then did Abbott finally let himself breathe fully again, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. He stayed there a second longer than he needed to. Watching the darkened windows like they might give something away Then he shook his head once, dragging a hand over his face. Telling himself it was just precaution. Just making sure one of his nurses got home safe. Not because he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she had looked at him on that roof Or the way she had fit against him like she belonged there Or the way he hadn’t wanted to let her go. Not because some part of him—one he hadn’t acknowledged in a long time—was already starting to blur the line between protecting her… and wanting her.

He started the car. Pulled away from the curb. And even as he drove off, he knew… He was already deeper than he should be.

Crossed line

Chapter 6 

It was only 10 p.m., but the night already felt like it had been going on for hours. The ER had that charged, humming energy—like something was always about to happen, even in the moments it didn’t. Kit had just stepped back toward the nurse’s station, chart half-finished, when Lena’s voice cut clean through everything. “Unresponsive person—two minutes out!” Everything snapped into motion. There was no hesitation anymore. Not like her first week. Not even like last week. Kit moved before she fully thought, already pulling gloves on as she headed toward the ambulance bay. The doors burst open.

And she was there. They were still rolling him through the doors when Kit stepped in, barely a pause between hallway and trauma bay, hands already finding the center of his chest as she took over compressions from the EMT mid-stride. Count steady. Shoulders locked. The rhythm is unforgiving. “College dorm, found unresponsive—with pinpoint pupils, responded to Narcan,” the EMT rattled off, breathless, keeping pace. “Respiratory arrest, suspected overdose, not breathing on arrival—we couldn’t bag him, just started getting air in.”

Under the harsh lights, he looked worse. Too still. Too blue. Kit didn’t let herself think about that. She just pressed. One of the nurses moved in with the BVM, squeezing air into him in sharp, controlled bursts. Across from her, Dr. Parker flashed a light into the patient’s eyes, already calling for meds, voice clipped and fast. “Push epi. Get a line in now.” Everything blurred into movement And then he was there. Dr. Abbott stepped in at the head of the bed, snapping gloves on, already assessing, already deciding.

“I’m intubating.”

Even now, even in this chaos, Kit felt it—that shift in the room when he took control. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful. It was just… certain. Like gravity. Bodies moved tighter, faster, the space shrinking as everyone adjusted around him. Kit didn’t look up—couldn’t—but she felt him Close, Too close. And then it happened. In the scramble for equipment, Abbott shifted quickly behind her, his hand brushing across the small of her back—firm, unintentional, just enough to guide himself through, It shouldn’t have meant anything. It was nothing, It was everything. A sharp, electric shiver shot up her spine, completely out of place against the clinical urgency of the room. Her breath stuttered—just for a second—but her hands never faltered. She kept counting, Kept pressing Locked back in. “It’s in,” someone said as the tube was secured, the ventilations evening out. Parker took over compressions, and Kit stepped back, chest rising and falling a little too fast now, sweat gathering at her hairline. The monitor screamed—flat, fast, unforgiving. Dr. Ellis moved in, running tests, trying to piece together what the kid had taken. Kit forced herself to move again—grabbed the red phone, calling up to the OR, voice steady even if her pulse wasn’t. “We’re going to need a CT as soon as he’s stable and send someone down.” She hung up and turned only to bump straight into Abbott, Solid, Close. “Sorry,” she said quickly, already stepping out of his way. But for half a second neither of them moved and it was ridiculous, the way her body reacted. The way it remembered the bar. The way it remembered him looking at her like, No. Not now, Not here.

Lena burst back in before anything could settle.

“We’ve got another one—leg crushed on a job site.” The intercom echoed it a second later. The room split in two directions. Kit stayed for five more minutes, working, pushing, watching the numbers, willing them to come back. They didn’t, Not really. The drugs started to kick in. There was something there, something weak, something unstable but it wasn’t enough. “Go,” Abbott said, not even looking at her this time. She hesitated just a fraction. Then she nodded and moved. The rest of the shift blurred into something almost easier. Routine cases. Fixable problems. People who lived. She moved through it all like she always did efficiently, steady, learning. Laughing a little more with the residents Javadi, Santos, Whittaker. Letting Gabbie pull her into side conversations. Letting Mateo and Erica tease her just enough to make it feel normal. She told herself that was enough. That it was just a job. That Abbott  was just her boss. Except he wasn’t, not entirely. Not after the bar. Not after the way he had looked at her there. Not after the way she still felt it like something unfinished sitting just under her skin. Later, while she was doing some of her charting, she found out that the kid didn’t make it. When things finally slowed, Kit sat at the desk, staring at a chart she hadn’t actually read in the last thirty seconds. That’s when she felt a hand light, Brief On her back. “Good job,” Abbott said. It was Simple, Easy Like it didn’t mean anything. She looked up at him, offering a small, tight smile. “Thanks.” And that was it. He walked away but the air he left behind felt… different. He didn’t do that. Not really. Not with her. Not with anyone and Lena was watching. Glasses low on her nose, eyes sharp, like she was piecing something together that Kit didn’t even want to name yet. Kit turned back to her chart. Pretended none of it mattered. Pretended she wasn’t suddenly hyper-aware of every time he walked into a room.

By the time she got home, she was exhausted in that deep, bone-heavy way that only ER shifts could do. But tonight was different because the girls were coming over and for a few hours, she could just be Kit, Not Nurse Kennedy, Not the new girl trying to prove herself. Not the girl who maybe definitely felt something she shouldn’t for her attending. The apartment was filled with noise and wine and laughter. Mia talking about wedding chaos. Juni complained about her job. Summer rambling about her date with her boyfriend. Taylor deep in some insane case study and Kit trying to explain her life without getting to medical wording on them and actually explaining anything that mattered. They pushed, of course. Played devil’s advocate. Called her out in the way only they could and for a while, it was like the old times. Then Mia mentioned how she missed our hinge night and how we should bring it back and everyone agreed and Kit’s phone was connected to the tv then they are swiping left or right on guy and talking about there profile, And then it was Him. Jack Abbott. First picture of himself doing a Mirror selfie in Scrubs with his Badge visible. Looking hot as hell and the universe was actually messing with her now. The room erupted. “Dont you work with him?”  “How old is he?”  “Is he nice?”  “that the guy from the bar on your birthday that you talk all night to isn't it?”  “He’s so hot.” Kit shut her phone off like it burned. But it didn’t matter. They weren’t letting it go. So she told them what she could, that he is a military vet, widow, intense, and private. Everything she’d picked up from Gabbie and nothing from the discussion that you had at the bar. Nothing that explained why her stomach flipped every time he got too close. “I don’t have feelings for him,” she insisted. They didn’t believe her. Then Summer shot up off the couch, moving way too fast for Kit to react before she was already lunging for her phone. “Give it to me,” she kept saying, over and over, reaching, grabbing, trying to pry it out of her hands. “It’s for your own good.” Kit twisted away, half laughing, half panicking, trying to keep it out of reach, but it only made things worse. Juni and Taylor immediately jumped in, turning it into a full-on pile of limbs and chaos, all three of them teaming up against her. “Are you serious right now—stop—” Kit tried, but they were relentless. It took a second, but they finally managed to pin her down, prying the phone from her grip as she struggled under them, breathless and laughing despite herself. “Summer—don’t you dare—” Too late. Summer unlocked it in one smooth motion and, without hesitation, swiped right. Kit went still for half a second, completely horrified. “You did not just do that.” Taylor let out a breathy laugh from somewhere above her, shaking her head. “Girl, how many crazy patients are you getting? Because you are getting crazy strong—it was hard to pin you down.” Kit huffed out a laugh despite herself, pushing them off as she sat up, running a hand through her hair. “I might have to put the three of you in psych after that shit you just pulled—because THAT IS MY BOSS.” Once again Kit snapped, half horrified, half something else she refused to name. They just laughed. Of course they did.

Kit spent the rest of the night pretending she was mad, leaning fully into it crossed arms, little eye rolls, acting like a total “grumpy pants.” But none of them were buying it. Not even a little. If anything, it just made it worse. They kept teasing her for it, poking at her reactions, laughing like they hadn’t just completely ambushed her five minutes ago. Eventually, the moment passed, and they slipped right back into their usual rhythm jumping between stories, circling the same topics they always did, comfortably “beating a dead horse” because that’s just how they were. Easy. Familiar. The kind of conversations that didn’t need to go anywhere to still mean something. And deep down, they all knew it. She’d thank them later. Because really what was the worst that could happen? He just wouldn’t match.

They stayed up until almost 2 a.m., talking nonstop, the room warm with wine and laughter and just enough chaos to feel like home. New gossip surfaced about people from high school, old names that still somehow carried weight. Then Taylor hesitated for a second before saying she was still friendly with one of Kit’s ex-friends and had an update. Kit didn’t want to hear it. Not at first. But she did. She needed to know what was being said about her especially since she had cut him off completely, unfollowed him everywhere, erased any way of seeing it herself. And then it all came out. That he didn’t tell anyone for the first month because he was “EMBARRASSED THAT HE COULDN’T MAKE YOU HIS PERFECT little WIFE, AND IN THE MOLD YOU ENOUGH.” That she was “unfixable” because of her “mommy problems, That she took everything for granted” and saying “That she shouldn’t even have any problems” because “she had a perfect life” and that’s why he liked her in the first place. That he already had a new girl. Taylor even pulled up a picture and yeah she was gorgeous. Kit didn’t say it out loud, but she saw it. Of course she did. Immediately, the girls jumped in, shutting that thought down before it could settle. Telling her she was prettier. That he’d never find someone like her again. That he fumbled hard and still there was something about it. Something quiet because the girl in the photo looked like she fit. Like she wanted that life. The kind where someone else made the decisions. The kind where being the “perfect mold” wasn’t something you fought against. Kit hated that the thought crossed her mind. Hated that part of her felt bad for even thinking about it. But then Taylor added one more thing. “He got a fuck ass haircut after the breakup.” And that broke it. The tension cracked instantly as they all burst out laughing, the image somehow making everything else feel smaller, lighter—because of course he did. And of course it made his receding hairline worse. Before they even realized it, Mia’s fiancé had arrived, texting that he was outside officially designated as everyone’s Uber home. The night unraveled quickly after that, shoes on, hugs at the door, last-minute “text me when you get home” reminders.

Later, alone in her room, the silence settled in a way that felt louder than the night had been. She could hear the car outside beeping and driving by. Now that  the laughter is gone. The music was gone. Even the air felt different still, heavy, like everything that had been pushed aside was finally catching up to her. Kit sat on the edge of her bed, her phone still in her hand, the screen glowing faintly against the dark. Her mind kept replaying everything at once Summer grabbing her phone, the swipe, the teasing, the way his face had looked on the screen. And then her ex. His words. The things he had said about her. They sat in her chest like something sharp. She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like she couldn’t sit still in it anymore. “God,” she muttered under her breath, pushing herself up. She needed to wash it off. The shower turned on before she even fully thought about it, steam filling the bathroom almost instantly. Kit stepped under the water without checking the temperature, letting it hit her skin, hot and steady, grounding in a way nothing else had been tonight. For a second, she just stood there. Eyes closed. Letting everything catch up.

The water ran over her shoulders, down her back, washing away the sticky feeling of the day, the smell of the hospital still clinging to her, the faint trace of wine, the lingering tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. But it didn’t stop her thoughts. They kept coming, His voice “EMBARRASSED THAT HE COULDN’T MAKE YOU HIS PERFECT little WIFE”  in her head, Her jaw tightened “Fuck you,” she whispered, more to herself than anything. The words didn’t even feel real, and yet they did. Because somewhere, in the smallest, quietest part of her, they hit something she didn’t want to look at. Unfixable, Too much, Not enough at the same time. She scrubbed harder than she needed to, like she could erase it, like she could physically get rid of the way it made her feel. And then her mind shifted again of course it did Because now it went to him.

Dr. Abbott.

Jack 

The way he had looked at her at the bar The way his hand had brushed her back tonight was quick, unintentional, but not forgettable. The way her body had reacted before she could stop it. The way she hadn’t stopped thinking about it. “This is so stupid,” she muttered, tilting her head back under the water. He was her boss. That was the end of it. It had to be but then why did it feel like something was already happening anyway? By the time she stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was thick with steam, the mirror completely fogged over. She wrapped herself in a towel, running a hand over her face, exhaling slowly like she was trying to reset herself. It didn’t fully work but it helped. A little. She changed quickly, pulling on one of her oldest t-shirts—the oversized one that had been through too many washes, soft in that worn-in way, little holes near the hem and sleeve like it had lived a life before this. It swallowed her whole, falling mid-thigh, comfortable in a way nothing else was. Safe. She crawled into bed, the sheets cool against her skin, and for the first time all night, everything was quiet enough for her to actually think. Her phone sat beside her. Waiting. Kit turned her head, staring at it for a long moment before reaching over and picking it up again. Hinge was still there, still open, still… possible. Her thumb hovered over the screen. She told herself it didn’t matter. That he probably hadn’t even seen it. That even if he did, he wouldn’t match. That even if he did… It would be a mistake, a bad idea. A line she couldn’t cross. But then her chest tightened slightly. Because part of her wanted to know. Just a little, enough to see if there was something there that she wasn’t imagining. Her thumb hovered for a second longer. Then before she could overthink it she deleted it. The app disappeared from her screen, like it had never been there at all. Kit let out a slow breath, staring at the empty space where it had been. Hoping Dr. Abbott would never see it. Hoping she had just saved herself from something complicated. Something messy, she wasn’t ready for. She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket up slightly, letting her eyes fall shut. And if he did see it… If he matched her she’d never know. Which was probably for the best. Sleep didn’t come right away because even without the app he was still there on her mind.

The known meeting 

Chapter 5 

September always felt like a reset. Not in a clean, fresh-start kind of way but in the way the air shifted just enough to remind you that things didn’t stay the same forever. Summer slipping out quietly, fall waiting just around the corner. The light changed first, softer somehow, less harsh. The mornings carried a chill you hadn’t noticed the week before, and the nights stretched a little longer, like the world was exhaling after holding its breath too tight for too long. It matched how everything felt lately unsteady, in-between, trying to settle into something that hadn’t quite decided what it wanted to be yet. Nothing was broken. But nothing felt fully right, either. Dana had been quiet all week. Not distant in a cold way. Not pulling away or shutting you out. Just… softer. Like something in her had been bruised and she didn’t quite know how to move around it yet without hitting the sore spot again. Conversations came slower. Her laughs didn’t last as long. Even when she was there, fully present, you could feel that something underneath hadn’t smoothed over. The fight still lingered between you unspoken, but present. It sat in the pauses. In the moments where one of you almost said something and then didn’t. In the way you both chose easier topics instead of the one sitting right there between you and you hated that, hated the feeling of it, hated that the one person who had always been your constant your safe place, your built-in home felt just a little out of reach. Not gone Just… not as close as before Like standing beside someone and still somehow missing them. But this weekend wasn’t about that. Or at least you were trying not to let it be. This weekend was supposed to be good. It was your birthday. I never really liked my birthday  And no matter what, you still wanted her there because Dana wasn’t just family. The only one close enough to show up without planning weeks ahead, without coordinating schedules, without it turning into something that felt like effort. She was the one who knew your routines, your moods, the way you liked things without you having to explain it. Your brother had his hands full with his three-year-old, an hour away, living a completely different life now—one filled with early mornings and cartoons and responsibilities that didn’t leave much room for spontaneous weekends.

Dana was the one who had always been beside you. The one who showed up. The one you still looked up to, even when things got messy. Especially then. So you tried. You kept things light. Checked in without pushing. Let her come to you instead of forcing anything she wasn’t ready to give yet. You filled the space with small things, coffee runs, quick texts, sitting in comfortable silence instead of heavy conversations. And slowly  it started to feel a little easier again. Not fixed. But softer. Like something that could be fixed. Dinner was calm before everything else. A small table tucked into the corner of a busy restaurant, the kind where the noise wrapped around you instead of overwhelming you. Plates clinking, people talking over each other, the low hum of music in the background gave you something to settle into.it was just you, Dana, Benji, and her two girls squeezed around the table, shoulders brushing every time someone reached for something in the middle. And it was easy in the way it used to be. Her daughters talking over each other, both trying to tell different stories at the same time. Benji chiming in, making it worse on purpose just to get them laughing. Dana shaking her head, trying—and failing—to keep any kind of order. You found yourself laughing without thinking about it. Not forcing it Just… laughing. At one point, you glanced up and caught Dana looking at you. Not distracted. Not guarded. Just… soft. A real smile. Something in your chest loosened. That felt like enough.

Later, your apartment filled up fast. The music was already playing before the first knock on the door, something upbeat that carried through the space and set the tone before anyone even stepped inside. Bottles lined the counter, half-opened already, like the night had started before it technically began. People filtered in one by one—and then all at once. Laughter bounced off the walls, voices overlapping, the energy building faster than you could keep track of. It was the first time your worlds were colliding like this—your hometown friends mixing with your work people—and for a second, you’d been nervous. Different versions of you, all in one room. But you shouldn’t have been. It just worked, Summer was already talking with Samira like they’d known each other forever, hands moving animatedly as they compared stories. Taylor and Victoria were deep in something dramatic, their voices dropping like whatever they were talking about needed full attention. Juni had Erica laughing so hard she had to grab onto the counter, nearly spilling her drink in the process. Gabbie and Mia moved between groups effortlessly, pulling people together, keeping the energy alive. And the small overlaps made everything easier—some of the girls from work already knew Summer from dropping off coffee at the hospital, which somehow bridged everything together without you having to. You didn’t have to explain to anyone. You didn’t have to translate. Everyone just… fit It felt easy, And for the first time in a while  you didn’t feel split between two lives. By the time you all left, the night had that buzz to it. The kind that settles into your skin. Where everything feels a little brighter, a little louder, like the world turned the volume up just for you. Your body felt loose, untethered from the weight you’d been carrying all week. Your thoughts weren’t circling the same things over and over—they were quiet, or at least quiet enough to ignore.Bar after bar, the night blurred into flashes. Music shaking through your chest, bass vibrating up through your ribs. Laughing too loud at something that wasn’t even that funny—but it didn’t matter, because it felt good. Random guys trying their luck, stepping in like they had a chance—and all of you tearing them apart the second they walked away, leaning into each other, whispering commentary like it was a sport. Hands grabbing yours, pulling you onto the dance floor. Spinning. Moving. Letting yourself get lost in it. Dancing like no one was really watching  even though everyone was. Your hair sticking slightly to your skin, your cheeks warm, your smile coming easier than it had in days. You didn’t think about the fight. Didn’t think about the tension. Didn’t think about anything you’d been trying to fix. You just… existed in it. And it felt like breathing again. You felt good. More than good.

The last stop was one of your favorite dive bars—the kind that didn’t try to be anything more than it was. Sticky floors that pulled slightly at your shoes with every step. Cheap drinks poured heavily without asking. Dim, amber lighting that softened edges, blurred imperfections, made everyone look a little better than they actually were. The air smelled faintly of beer and something fried, music humming low enough that you could still hear each other if you leaned in close. It was familiar. Comforting in a messy, unpolished way. And the second you walked in you saw them. Because of course, they were here. Dr. Abbott, Dr. Robby, Dr. Garcia, Dr. McKay, Dr. Collins and Dana. A smile pulled at your lips before you could stop it, something warm and immediate settling in your chest. You knew exactly how she’d ended up here. The only way you were getting Dana out tonight was if there were people she actually liked waiting on the other side and clearly, someone had made that happen. “Hey!” you called, already moving toward them. A chorus of happy birthdays followed almost immediately, overlapping, loud, genuine. Someone pulled you into a quick hug—then another. Questions came right after. “How was the pregame?” “How many places have you hit already?” “You look.. how many drinks in?” You laughed, brushing it off, answering half of them, ignoring the rest. It felt easy. Like slipping into something familiar without thinking about it. Dana’s eyes met yours for a second across the group soft again, a small smile tugging at her lips and something in you settled. You didn’t linger long. Because your attention had already shifted. You slipped up to the bar, sliding into the open seat beside Abbott like it was the most natural thing in the world. Just not even thinking about it. He glanced over, already halfway smiling—like he’d been expecting you. “What are you going to drink, Miss birthday girl?” There was a tease in it. Light. Easy. But his eyes held yours just a second longer than necessary. You leaned into it without thinking. “Oh, I don’t know,” you said, tilting your head just enough, letting the moment stretch. “I feel like you should decide.” His grin widened. Dangerous And just like that you were playing.

Time slipped in a way that didn’t feel real.One drink turned into another, but somewhere in between, the conversation shifted past the easy surface-level flirting into something quieter. More intentional. You turned toward him without realizing it, your knee brushing his, your body angling in like it belonged there. The rest of the bar faded into background noise voices blending together, music dulling at the edges. At some point, people did move away. Shifted spots. Found other conversations. But neither of you noticed. You told him about your family. About your brothers and how different their life looked to yours. About your sister in the military and where she was based. About Dana, how growing up meant tagging along to the hospital sometimes, watching everything from the sidelines. You even laughed about how young Robby had looked back then—how different everything felt when you were seeing it through younger eyes. He listened. Not just hearing you listening. And when he spoke, it felt just as easy. He told you about his sister. Five kids—two nephews, three nieces. Absolute chaos. Stories stacked on top of each other, each one worse than the last, until you were laughing harder than you expected to, your head dipping forward as you tried to catch your breath. It wasn’t just flirting anymore. It was… real. And it surprised you how easy it felt. The little things started happening without either of you calling attention to them. His hand brushing your arm when he laughed. Your fingers resting near his on the bar a second too long before pulling away. His hand briefly at your knee steady, grounding, like it had always belonged there. Reaching up to move your hair off your shoulder, casual, like it wasn’t something he thought twice about. His eyes dropped to the necklace at your collarbone, just for a second—quick, subtle, but you noticed. Nothing too much. Nothing you could point to.But enough.

An hour passed. Maybe more. You didn’t notice until something in the back of your mind pulled you out of it. Your friends. Dana. You blinked slightly, like you were waking up, pulling back just enough to glance over his shoulder scanning the room. You found them in the back. A massive booth, all of them crammed in together, loud and alive and completely wrapped up in their own chaos. “I should…” you started, your voice softer now, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Probably go hang out with my friends.” He nodded. But there was something in his expression, something quiet, almost reluctant like he didn’t want the moment to end. “Let me get you one more,” he said. “For your birthday.” You hesitated for half a second. Because it was nice. Because you didn’t want it to feel like you were taking advantage of him. But also because you didn’t really want to say no. So you nodded. The drink came quickly. And when you stood, you leaned in without thinking, wrapping your arms around him in a quick side hug, his hand going to your lower bare back,  lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Thank you.” … “Anytime,” he murmured, low enough that it almost got lost in the noise around you. When you pulled back, something in his expression had shifted subtle, but there. And before you could really process it  he was gone. Slipping out of the bar without making a scene, without saying goodbye to anyone else. Just… gone.

When you made your way back, everything was chaos again. The group had shifted. The older crowd had already done an Irish goodbye,  just vanished into the night. The only ones left from that side were McKay and Garcia who was currently fully making out with Santos like they’d forgotten they were in public. You blinked. “Okay—” Victoria was tucked into Mateo’s side, both of them laughing too quietly, too close, like they thought no one could tell what was happening. Taylor was deep in conversation with one of the night doctors who had come in with Mateo—you didn’t know his name, but you’d definitely seen his face before. Close enough that it felt intentional. The rest of the girls were scattered, drinks in hand, caught up in their own versions of the night. It was messy, loud, and perfect. “Hey—” You looked up, McKay crooked her finger at you, already smiling like she knew something you didn’t. You slid into the booth beside her, scooching in as she made space. “What?” you laughed. She tilted her head toward the bar. “What was *that*?” Before you could even think of an answer  “Yeah,” Gabbie cut in, sliding in on your other side so you were fully sandwiched between them. “Weren’t you just mad at him for leaving you out to dry after the Dana thing?” You blinked and looked at both of them because honestly you didn’t even know what to say. “Hey,” you said finally, throwing your hands up with a grin, a little breathless, a little tipsy. “We’re out of work. And I’m allowed to be a little talkative on my birthday.” They both just stared at you, trying to read you, getting absolutely nothing. Didn’t feel like pulling it apart and trying to make sense of something that had just… happened. You just let it be what it was

Turn back toward the music, toward your friends, toward the night that still had so much left in it and let yourself have it completely.

The Ambulance bays 

Chapter 4: 

The shift had been building toward something all day—tight, suffocating, like a room with no windows. Ever since Pitt Fest, ever since that night, Dana hadn’t let up. Not for a second. She hovered over every chart I touched, every patient I walked into. If I stepped out of her line of sight for more than a minute, she was calling my name, pulling me back, asking questions I already knew the answers to. It wasn’t guidance anymore. It was controlled. Micromanaging every move like I was one mistake away from falling apart and maybe that was the worst part. It made me feel like I was. Like every decision I made was wrong before I even made it. Like I had to prove myself over and over again just to earn a breath of space. The constant anxiety sat heavy in my chest, making me second-guess everything—my skills, my instincts, my place here. I had been taking care of myself for six years. I had built a life, made hard choices, survived things on my own. And now? I felt like a kid again. Like nothing I did mattered unless it was perfect—and even then, it wasn’t enough.

So I stepped outside. Just for a second. Just to breathe.The sun was dipping low, that soft golden light stretching across the ambulance bay, catching on the metal and glass and making everything look quieter than it actually was. I knew it wouldn’t last—that by the time I got out, it’d be gone. But I just wanted a minute of it. One second where no one was watching me. No one corrects me. No one is waiting for me to mess up. I barely got it. “You can’t be out here alone.” Her voice cut through the air sharp enough to make my shoulders tense instantly, of course. I didn’t even turn around right away. I already knew the look on her face—the tight jaw, the narrowed eyes, the way she was already halfway into a lecture before I’d even said a word.“Dana—” to Dana, giving her those eyes “This isn’t safe, Kit,” she pushed, already moving closer. “Something could happen to you and no one would know—” That was it. Something in me snapped clean. I turned around so fast it almost made her take a step back.“I am hitting my breaking point with you, Dana.” My voice shook, but I didn’t care. Didn’t stop. “I can’t do this anymore. You are always down my throat. Every second, every patient, every move I make—you’re right there like I’m about to screw it up.” Her expression tightened. “Because you could—”

“Oh my god,” I let out a sharp, breathless laugh, dragging a hand down my face. “Do you hear yourself? Do you even hear how insane that sounds?” Dana being stern “I’m trying to keep you safe—” still standing where it all started “I don’t want to be treated like this!” I cut her off, louder now, the words spilling out faster. “I know I’m your niece, I know you think that gives you some right to hover over me like I’m five years old, but I am not your baby.” My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “I am an adult. I have been taking care of myself for six years. Six. Years. And you walk in here and act like I can’t even handle a shift without you babysitting me.” waiting for a response “I am not babysitting you,” she snapped. “I am supervising you because clearly someone has to—” waiting a beat “Oh, wow,” I cut in, a harsh laugh breaking through. “That’s what this is? You think I need you to do my job for me?” feeling really hurt that I worked so hard only to seem like it for Dana “I think you’re reckless,” Dana fired back, stepping closer, her voice rising to match mine. “I think you don’t think things through, and I think if I’m not watching you, something is going to happen and I’m going to be the one standing there when it does.” 

“You don’t trust me,” I shot back immediately. “That’s what this is. You don’t trust me to do anything right.” … “I trust you to get yourself hurt,” she said, blunt and cutting. That hit. Harder than anything else she’d said. “I can’t breathe with you like this!” I yelled, my voice cracking now, the pressure finally breaking through. “You are everywhere. You question everything I do, you hover over me, you make me second-guess every decision before I even make it. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

“Maybe if you slowed down and listened—”

“I am listening!” I shouted. “All I do is listen—to you, to everyone, to every correction, every comment—and it’s never enough for you. I have been trying so hard to prove to you that I can do this, that I’m a good nurse, that I belong here—and you don’t even see it.” For a second, something flickered across her face. Hurt. Real, unguarded hurt. But it vanished just as fast. “I’m trying to keep you alive,” she snapped, her voice sharp, defensive, almost desperate now. “I am not like your mother. I don’t just care about you when you do something impressive—I care about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” I fired back, stepping closer now too, not backing down. “Because it doesn’t feel like care. It feels like control. It feels like you’re waiting for me to fail so you can swoop in and prove that you were right about me.”

“That’s not fair—”

“No, what’s not fair is that I don’t get to exist without you breathing down my neck!” I yelled. “I don’t get to just do my job. I don’t get to make a mistake, or learn, or figure things out on my own because you’re too busy projecting your shit onto me.” Her eyes flashed. “Watch it.” in a motherly tone  “No,” I shook my head, my voice dropping into something sharper, more dangerous. “You watch it. This isn’t about me. This is about you. About what happened. About the fact that you didn’t press charges and now you’re walking around like everything is a threat because you’re scared you messed up.” Her face went still and I knew. I’d hit exactly where it hurt. “Don’t,” she said, low, warning. But I didn’t stop. “Just because you made a mistake doesn’t mean I have to live like I did something wrong,” I pushed, my voice breaking but my words still sharp. “You screwed up. Not me. And I’m the one paying for it every single day.”

“Enough,” she snapped, stepping closer, her voice shaking now. “You don’t get to throw that in my face like you understand what that was like.”

“No, I don’t,” I shot back. “Because I wouldn’t have let it get to this point in the first place.” The silence that followed was immediate. Heavy. Dangerous. I didn’t even notice Robby coming out until his voice cut in “Hey—hey, what’s going on—” trying to figure out what was happening and how to fix it  “It’s a family discussion,” Dana snapped without looking at him. “Stay out of it.” But it wasn’t just us anymore. Because out of the corner of my eye, I saw Abbott coming in from the parking lot, slowing just enough to take it all in. The shouting. The tension. The fact that this had gone way too far and still  I didn’t stop. “I would’ve called my mom if I wanted to be treated like this,” I said, my voice cracking now, anger twisting into something raw and ugly. “But you’re not her. So stop acting like it.” Dana flinched like I’d slapped her. But I wasn’t done. “You don’t get to control me just because you’re scared,” I continued, quieter now but somehow worse. “And you don’t get to punish me because you regret what you did.” The silence barely had time to settle.

Before … Her hand came across my face. Hard. The sound cracked through the air, sharp and final, echoing off the concrete. My head snapped slightly to the side, the sting immediate, blooming across my cheek and then Nothing, Everything just… stopped. I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even react right away. Just stood there, frozen, my brain struggling to catch up to what had just happened. “Whoa—whoa, hey—” Robby’s voice cut in, louder now, rushing forward, stepping between us. Dana didn’t move either. Her hand still half-raised, her chest rising and falling too fast. Her bottom lip trembled. Like she hadn’t meant to. Like she didn’t even know how it got there. But I was already being pulled back.

A hand at my waist firm, steady, careful in a way that felt practiced guiding me away before I even registered who it was. My feet moved because they had to, because everything felt distant, muffled, like I was underwater and the world was happening somewhere above me. Tears slipped down my face silently, no sound, no control, just a slow, steady fall I couldn’t stop. And then I stopped. Set down a few feet away. My back to everything. All I could see was a wall of black someone standing in front of me, close enough to block out the chaos behind me, solid enough that my brain latched onto it like something real. For a second, I didn’t look up. Still trying to process. Still stuck on the sound of it. The feeling of it. Then I did. Abbott. He stood just far enough away to give me space, but close enough that it didn’t feel like I was alone. Like he’d been there longer than I realized. Watching. Waiting. Choosing the exact moment to step in. “Hey… are you okay?” His voice was quieter than I expected. Controlled. Careful in a way that didn’t match the tension in his shoulders. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he spoke. I swallowed, nodding too quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He didn’t believe me. I could see it in the way his eyes flicked over my face, in the way his jaw tightened just slightly like he was holding something back And then his hand came up. Not hesitant just… restrained. Like he’d already decided how far he was allowed to go before he even touched me. His fingers brushed my cheek, light but deliberate, turning my face just enough for him to see the mark already forming there. For a second it felt like everything stilled. Like the noise behind us disappeared. Like the only thing that existed was the warmth of his hand against my skin and the way he was looking at me not as a nurse, not as a problem, not as a disruption Just… me. And it was too much. Because I could feel it. The shift. The weight of his attention hit harder than it should have lingering just a second too long, long enough to make my chest tighten, long enough to make heat crawl up my neck. It was too much. Too close. Too aware. So I pulled away—quicker this time, sharper. My hand snapped to his wrist, pushing it down before he could keep it there, before I could think about it for even a second longer. “I’m fine,” I said again, but it came out wrong—tight, uneven, edged with something between anger and embarrassment. “Don’t—just… don’t.” And for a split second, something in his expression slipped. Barely there. But I saw it.

Because in his head it wasn’t supposed to go like that. He hadn’t meant to touch her like that. Hadn’t meant for it to feel like anything more than checking an injury. But the second his hand met her skin, something in him had already crossed a line he had no business crossing. The instinct to pull her in, to steady her, to shield her from everything still unraveling ten feet behind them, it hit him fast and hard, automatic in a way that scared the hell out of him. And when she pulled away it felt like being snapped back into place, like a reminder. 

You don’t get that. You don’t get her.

So he dropped his hand. Immediately.Like it burned. His face closed off just as fast, every flicker of something softer gone before it could settle into anything real. Shoulders tightening, posture shifting back into something clinical, something safe. Because wanting more than that, wanting to pull her closer, to say something real, to do anything other than stand there like this wasn’t an option. Not here.Not with her. Not ever. So he did the only thing he knew how to do when something got too close to the surface. He shut it down. “You can’t be doing this at work,” he said, crossing his arms, his voice sharper now, stripped of anything that had been there seconds before. “If you’ve got a fight with someone, you take it home. Not in the ambulance bay.” And it came out colder than he meant it to. Because it wasn’t really about the fight. It was about the way his chest still felt too tight. About the way his hand still remembered her skin. About how much it got under his skin that she’d been standing there alone, hurt, shaking and his first instinct wasn’t professional. It was personal and he hated that. Hated that it mattered. Hated that she pulled away and it bothered him more than it should have. Hated that for a split second, he almost let himself forget why he couldn’t feel any of this in the first place. So he made it simple. Made it about rules. About work. About boundaries Because that was easier than admitting the truth that it killed him a little when she stepped back.

A disruption. An inconvenience. That’s what it felt like to him. That’s what I was and then he just… walked away. Just like that. No hesitation. No looking back. Like whatever had just happened out here, whatever had just happened to me was already filed away, already handled, already over. Robby’s voice faded as he guided Dana back inside, his hand firm on her arm, his attention completely on her now. On calming her down. On managing her And I was left standing there. Alone… The ambulance bay suddenly felt too big. Too open. Like there was nowhere to hide but nowhere to go either. The golden light I’d come out here for was almost gone now, slipping behind the buildings, leaving everything colder. Harsher. Like always. Like it always ended up. When I wasn’t exactly what they needed me to be. When I wasn’t composed, or useful, or impressive. When I wasn’t perfect. It felt like no one knew what to do with me then. Like I didn’t matter as much. I pressed my lips together, trying to steady my breathing, but it came out uneven anyway, my chest still tight, my cheek still burning. My hands were shaking now that everything had settled, adrenaline draining out and leaving something worse behind. I didn’t know how long I stood there.

A minute. Five. Long enough for the world inside to move on without me. Until the doors pushed open again. “Kit?” I wiped at my face quickly, turning away for a second before I looked up, forcing myself to pull it together. Gabbie stepped out, her expression shifting the second she saw me. Softening. Concern settling in fast, like she hadn’t expected it to look like this. “Hey—hey, what happened?” she asked, moving closer but not too close. Careful. “I heard you had an argument?” I let out a shaky breath that came out half a laugh, half something that felt dangerously close to falling apart. “Are you kidding me?” I said, dragging a hand through my hair. “What the fuck—does everyone know now?” She hesitated. Just for a second. And that was enough. “NO… Abbott sent me out here to check on you.” Something in me twisted hard. Sharp Because of course he did of course he did. I let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking my head like I couldn’t even believe it. “Wow. That’s—” I cut myself off, pressing my lips together. “That’s actually insane.” Gabbie frowned slightly. “Kit—” … so flustered “He leaves me out here like I’m nothing,” I snapped, the words coming faster now, anger flaring back up over everything else. “Like I’m just—what? A problem he doesn’t feel like dealing with? And then he sends you out here so he can feel better about it?” 

“That’s not—”