Feels Everywhere

You send him a half smile, as the embarrassment still remains in your system. 

While heat rises to your cheeks, feeling flushed…

Whether that was from your dog’s overly friendly behaviour, the little jog or simply due to the fact that this man was incredibly handsome. 

…That was something you decided was an answer you weren’t willing to admit. 

The way his brows curved, to the hazel of his eyes, soft with a depth that seemed as endless as the sky. 

To the strands of silver that simply made his features pop. 

The slight stubble that followed the line of his jaw. 

To the broadness of his shoulders. The look of a man who had borne the weight of life’s troubles. 

Despite all that, he stood tall. 

Proud. 

Strong. 

With the posture of someone who had yet let life’s woes get the better of them.

He was certainly a sight to see.

…And vaguely familiar?

“What’s his name?” 

Blinking out of your daze you respond, “Oh, his name’s Bailey.” 

Before adding with a small laugh, “Cause he soothes the soul just like an irish cream”

The way his lip quirked, to the velvety chuckle that slipped from his lips. 

It had ignited a spark within you.

“Was that intentional?”

With a small snort you nod, as your fingers card through the soft fur while Bailey wagged his tail with a happy smile. 

“Oh, very much so,” you said before adding, “Again, I am sorry you got jumped by my dog”

“Like I said it’s ok,” He sends you a smile, “A nice little pick me up–Oh, I’m Jack”

He extends his hand, while your hand slips into his. 

Hands firm and soft all at once as grasps yours.

And just perhaps. 

His hold lingers for just a few moments more. 

Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. The familiarity of your hand folded into his. 

Seemingly frozen in a moment of time as he properly has the chance to take you in. 

You offer him a smile as you say your name. 

Before continuing to blurt out, “Bailey tends to just go up to people when he thinks they’re down, or having a bit of a rough day–he’s a little intuitive that way”

Jack nods while he pulls back his hand, placing them in his pockets instead. 

Your explanation - the idea that he was having a rough day…hitting a little too close to home for his comfort. 

“Smart dog”

“He does a pretty good job at faking it,” you lightly joke, while Bailey looks up at you as if knowing what you were saying before plodding back beside Jack, nudging at his leg. “Seems he likes you”

“I’m flattered,” Jack says as he crouches down to pat Bailey once more, 

You admire him as he softens around Bailey. 

How easy it felt. 

Comfortable. 

He lifts his eyes to meet your gaze. Narrowing ever so slightly, “You work at PTMC right?”

Your brows raise, a little surprised.

Ever just the slightest bit worried. Mouth agape, unsure about how to answer. 

“Oh–not a stalker promise, I just, think that I’ve seen you around there. I work in the ER” He rushes to explain. 

Clutching your chest you let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, “Phew, thought I was going to have to make Bailey fight for me”

The chuckle that resonated from his chest. To the glint in his eyes. 

There was something magnetic about him. 

Pulling you into his orbit. 

“I should probably let you go, I’m sure you’ve got places to be,” he says politely. 

“Oh, yeah,” your eyes flick down to your watch, as much as you would’ve loved to find an excuse to keep talking - time was definitely slipping away, “I’ll see you around, Jack” 

“It was nice meeting you,” With one last scratch around Bailey’s ear, “You too, Bailey” 

You clip Bailey’s leash back on before waving once more to Jack, as you murmur, “Come on Bailey”

Jack stays still for a moment, just watching your retreating figure. 

You might not have known it. 

But Bailey’s impromptu greeting with Jack, had soothed something within him. Had settled his heart, had quelled his mind. 

You were right it seemed. Bailey certainly helped to soothe the soul. Just like a chilled glass of Bailey’s.

The slight smile on his face remains, even as he continues his walk, soaking in the fresh air before he inevitably needs to go home and sleep before tonight’s shift. 

…

Late one evening.

…Better described as incredibly early one morning. 

Jack rounds a corner to find you, a small frown stretched across your lips with the faintest of disgruntled complaints leaving your mouth, punctuated with a solid whack to the vending machine. 

“What did the vending machine do to you to deserve that?” He asked, with an amused arch of his brow. 

Whilst you fish out your little pick me up from the machine, you tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

“Oh, hey,” the annoyance upon your face melts away as recognition flashes across your eyes, “Jack, right?” 

Standing up from your crouched position, you lean against the machine.  

He nods whilst a smile spreads across his face unconsciously, “Yeah, and it was Y/N? – obviously no Bailey today”

“Not quite hospital appropriate,” you remarked. 

Whilst he joked, “The dog or the drink?”

Laughing softly from his words, you replied, a little impressed, “You’ve got a sharp memory”

He shrugs, as though it were no big deal, “It helps when there’s a cute dog and a nice smile involved,” he flatters you. 

“Smooth talker, eh?” you tease. 

The velvety richness of his chuckle, settles within you. A warmth curling in your heart from the sound. 

Before you can talk any more, a faint buzz emanates from your hip. 

Eyes flicking down, a reluctance creeping in you. 

“Oh, that’s me,” you hold back the saddened sigh before looking up to meet his eyes, feet beginning to move, “I better be off before Emery comes looking for me–”

He offers you the slightest of waves. 

And just as you round the corner, before dipping out of sight you call out once more with a little wink, “I’ll see you around” 

In fleeting moments you would both share a quick hello. 

Barely passing by. 

Barely able to get more than a handful of minutes with him. And while Jack might not have admitted it aloud. 

Each time he wandered through the park, he would keep his eyes peeled for the cheerful dog – he would keep an eye out for your dazzling smile. 

Rarely getting the opportunity to see you in the hospital. 

While Jack would be knee deep in cases amidst the stress of the pitt. 

You would be wrangling all that came with being a scrub nurse in surgery – both those that were planned ahead and impromptu. 

But these brief moments were always so short. 

Far too short for Jack’s liking. 

Each time you left his company, he simply longed for the next moment you’d meet again. Craving to learn more about you. 

Hoping for more than just these brief passing moments. 

For more than this dance around what if?

…

The night had made you feel weary. 

Bleary eyed, with limbs feeling heavy – aching. 

The stark white fluorescence of the hospital halls doing nothing but irritate your growing headache. 

Bag slung over your shoulder. 

Unable to leave. 

To go home. 

So instead you go up. 

Pushing against the heavy set door whilst you wander out onto the rooftop. 

The crisp morning air enveloping you completely. Powdery blue hue cast upon the horizon. The swirling depths of the midnight sky, now long since faded. As the glowing sun begins to brighten the sky. 

The way it gently casts over the horizon as the city awakens. 

So polarising as it refreshes you. 

Letting your bag slip to the floor you lean against the railing. 

Eyes drifting close as you breathe in and out. 

Small puffs escaping your lips as it swirls in the cool air. 

Chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. 

Your peace disturbed as the squeak of the door echoes across the rooftop. Glancing back for a second before turning your attention back out towards the skyline. 

The small scuffle of footsteps adding to the serene soundscape of the early morning. 

Jack settles beside you. 

Quiet. 

Letting the peace settle between you both. 

Overcome with a soothing sense of calm. A calm that both of you had desperately needed. 

You reach down to your bag, clasping onto your thermos, as you unscrew the cap. Without evening asking you pass him a small cup. 

Poured into it was the very chamomile tea you had thought to brew before coming up here. 

The steam rising into the air, its aroma faintly floral. 

Tranquil. 

The words falling from your lips unprompted, but not unwelcomed, “I love it up here at this time of day. Being above it all–away from it all…it's just so peaceful–wouldn’t you agree?” 

He hums in agreement, shoulders still rigid. Still a little on edge from the events of the night. Sipping carefully from the little cup. Letting the tea trickle down his throat. 

“…the fresh air, the rising sun. I think it's the secret to keeping sane,” you add softly. 

 He nods, “Helps to switch off”

“Yeah,” you mumble out. 

Both of your minds a million miles away, and yet. So grateful that neither of you were alone right now…

“Rough shift?” he asked. 

“Isn’t it always?” 

Something in the air shifted. 

For however many minutes you spent up there with him. 

The silence was soothing. Comforting. Reassuring. 

Not pressing. 

Not suffocating or uncomfortable. 

No. 

Somehow. 

For some reason. Having Jack simply there beside you, helped rest your restless mind. 

Whilst the mere fact you were barely inches from him, had eased the clouded thoughts that had plagued him. 

You were each other’s sense of clarity…

It was a feeling as refreshing as the crisp morning air. 

Both simply gaze out towards the features of the skyline, from the houses, to the trees in the park, to the people that go about their day…

“Do you think this could be something?” Jack had said. The question that had burned in the back of his brain since the moment he had first met you. 

Since the moment your dog Bailey had bounded up to him. 

Shuffling slightly, he feels your arm gently bump into his. As you close the gap. 

“Do you want it to be something?” 

Nerves seep into your stomach. While you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Hoping. 

Longing. 

That this all hadn’t been some silly idea you had conjured up in your mind. 

“Yes,” his response was so clear. So forthright. With no room for hesitance. No room for doubt. 

Your lips curl up into a smile. 

You reach a hand out, whilst his intertwines with your fingers, gentle and soft despite the calloused skin of his hard. 

“Then yes, I’d like that” 

Finally turning to look at him, only to find him gazing at you already. Eyes creasing at the corners whilst he smiles at you. Eyes tracing the features of your face as it glows beneath the angelic lighting. 

He tugs you closer, bodies flush against one another. 

His warm breath fans across your cheeks, a heat creeping up your neck. Flushed beneath his unwavering gaze. 

Breathless from the way he looks at you. 

As though you were all that existed. 

Leaning in, tentative, careful. 

Any trepidation melts away as your lips meet his. The rough chapped texture gliding against yours. His hand slips from yours before reaching up to rest against your jaw, tilting your head, a sigh escaping your lips. 

Pulling back, just barely a whisper away from him. 

You mumble softly, “How does a walk in the park with Bailey and some breakfast sound?”

Leaning his forehead against yours. 

Those soulful deep brown eyes peering into yours, his lips curling into a smile. 

“Sounds perfect”

Who could’ve suspected that your dog Bailey, who had a knack for comforting those in their murkiest of thoughts. 

Also had a knack for match making…

He was certainly a good boy. 

Your eyes search for Jack’s. The way that with just one look he sets your racing heart to rest. Sets your mind at ease. 

In his eyes. 

You could see a future. 

Filled with excitement. With steadiness. With love.

A future of early morning walks through the park, arm in arm with Jack. Whilst Bailey pads alongside you both. 

Pointing out things that amused you. Being able to feel light even after heavy shifts. Developing your own little inside jokes. 

Picking up on the things that made him smile, the things that made him laugh. 

While Jack noticed all the things that made your eyes sparkle. 

A future of settling to sleep side by side. 

His strong arms wrapping around you. Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, before trailing a path down across the curve of your face, before settling to glide across your lips. 

Murmuring softly, the words rolling off his tongue so smoothly, “I love you”

“Love you, too,” Sighing in his hold, beginning to feel drowsy. Melting into his arms, as you shuffle closer to him.

Only to be pushed apart when Bailey appears nuzzling his nose against your cheek, before settling in the space between you and Jack. 

Jack huffs out a small laugh, deep and warm, rumbling from his chest. 

His hand brushes against Bailey’s fur, “Ok, good boy,” While Bailey shifts to nuzzle his head against Jack’s hand, before curling up at the end of your bed. 

Smiling softly, you readjust once more to slide back into Jack’s arms. 

Sleep enveloping you three completely. 

Soundly. 

Jack never knew he would be able to rediscover peace. Not until he had met you, and your sweet dog. 

Soothing him down to his very soul…

…

Jack enters the bedroom, supported by his crutches, eyes knitted in confusion as he moves things around. Eyes searching. On the hunt. 

Before calling out with a sigh, “Hey, sweetheart, have you seen my foot?” 

“No,” you called back from the bathroom, “Where’d you last have it?” 

He frowns from your response, he could’ve sworn he left it by the bed…or was it by the door–it didn’t matter. 

What mattered, was that it wasn’t anywhere he could think of. 

“It’s not where I left it”

“What do you mean? Do you think it walked off without you?” You questioned, whilst you failed to stifle the laughter from your own joke.

Jack’s lips twist into a small frown, before melting away as he hears your melodic laugh. 

He sighs. 

Trying to wrack his brain. 

For any inkling, any thought as to where his prosthetic could be. 

Before he could turn to leave. 

He's stuck in place. 

Stunned by the image that enters his sights…

In comes Bailey. 

Simply trodding in, and in his mouth–

“Bailey–” Jack begins to say. 

And at that moment. You come out of the bathroom welcomed by the sight of Jack standing in the bedroom with his crutches. 

And just before him. 

Sat Bailey. 

Head cocked. Eyes peering up at Jack. Tail wagging happily beneath his attention. 

But in his mouth. 

Gripped by his canines, was the very foot that Jack was looking for. 

You bite your lip, amused by the scene. 

Whilst Jack leans down, a little awkwardly, plucking the prosthetic from Bailey’s mouth, who whines softly. With the slightest roll of his eyes, Jack scratches behind Bailey’s ear to soothe him. 

A chuckle resonating from his chest. You shift to walk over taking Jack’s crutches from him as he sits down to attach his foot. 

“Good job Bailey,” you said dotingly. Before looking over to Jack, “I’ll have to add that to his list of skills–finds distressed docs in parks and finds prosthetic legs”

Bailey lets out a bark, as though agreeing with your words. 

“Does that include finding you a boyfriend?” Jack remarks with a smirk. 

Whilst you saunter over to him, his arms curling around your waist, tugging you into him as he gazes up at you, “Maybe” 

Your hands come to cup his cheeks, fingers gently caressing over his light stubble before resting at the base of his scalp, threading through his soft curls. 

Your head ducking down to meet his lips, sweet and soft. 

He melts into you. Devoting every ounce of love he had for you into the kiss. 

No matter how brief, or how long the kisses were. 

You could always count on them being intensely rich from the love he harboured for you. 

Pulling back, he rests his head against your chest. 

Grounding himself from the steady rhythmic beating of your heart. 

“You hear that?” 

“Hm?” he hums in response, entranced by your heartbeat. 

“That’s my heart beating for you”

The laugh bubbles out of him in an instant, “That was so not smooth”

You click your tongue, lightly slapping his arm, “And who are you to judge, Mr Dancing through the darkness, hmm?” you quipped. 

He groans, head burying into your shoulder. 

“I can’t believe Robby told you that”

“Plenty more where that came from”

“He’s a liar,” he retaliates. 

To which you only laugh with a small shake of your head, ducking down slightly to press a kiss to his head. 

“So was he lying when he said you were absolutely head over heels in love with me and totally wanted to marry me one day?” you teased. 

Mumbling out reluctantly, “...Maybe he’s not always a liar…”

“If it helps, I’m head over heels in love with you too, and would totally marry you one day,” you whisper softly. The words, simple and sincere. 

“That’s good to know, sweetheart,” he smiles. 

And in his mind the very ring he had tucked away in the bottom of his sock drawer makes an appearance, The band delicate as the diamonds sparkle. 

He hadn’t planned it all out just yet. 

But he knew for certain that he wanted to slip the ring onto your finger. 

A symbol that his love for you was everlasting. 

That he would be by your side through it all. 

He repeats a little softer, “Good to know”

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. This was inspired by me enjoying a glass of Bailey’s Irish Cream, I thought it would be a little fun joke. And who doesn’t love a meet cute via a gorgeous dog?? Just a little soft sweetness for Jack (he deserves the mundane peace of it all!) Let me know what you thought ✨ Comments, Reblogs and Likes are welcomed and appreciated 💕 For more Jack Abbot Works check out my series below! Such as my Dr Jack Abbot x Reader Who Would've Thought series here💖 Or my fic Based on Waitress the Musical, Dr Jack Abbot x Waitress!Reader Sugar, Butter, Flour series 🥧 Or for a lil bit of hurt with eventual comfort check out Jack and the reader create a bond through being widowers, I Know You're Hurting series Find My Pitt Masterlist here

and now there was a puppy in your bathroom.

a very tiny puppy. a very dirty puppy. a very skinny puppy.

a puppy that had looked at you with huge brown eyes and immediately destroyed your ability to make rational decisions.

so now you’d spent the entire night cleaning him up, feeding him tiny portions of food left over in the fridge, googling what was safe for the pup to eat, and trying to convince yourself that jack wouldn’t be upset.

or at least not too upset.

the front door unlocked just after seven in the morning.

your stomach dropped. jack was home.

you were still sitting on the couch in yesterday’s clothes, running entirely on caffeine and poor decisions.

the second he walked inside, he frowned. “why are you awake?”

you immediately looked anywhere but at him. “couldn’t sleep.” you stuttered out quick.

jack narrowed his eyes. doctor eyes. the same eyes that caught every lie told in the emergency department. unfortunately for you, they worked at home too. “you look guilty.”

you scoffed. “i’m just tired.”

“you look guilty and tired.” he kicked off his shoes. “what happened?”

“nothing happened. what makes you think that?” you defenced back.

“something happened.”

you smiled weakly.

he sighed.

“how much trouble am i about to be in?”

“define trouble.”

jack groaned. “oh no.” he pointed at you. “what did you do?”

“i didn’t do anything.”

before he could respond—

woof!

both of you froze.

the tiny bark came from the bathroom. jack slowly turned his head. then looked back at you. then toward the bathroom again. then back at you.

“…what was that?”

you considered lying.

you lasted approximately one second. “…a dog.”

jack closed his eyes. “you found a dog.”

“well technically the dog found me.”

“that’s not how dogs work.”

another bark echoed through the apartment. followed by a tiny scratching sound against the bathroom door.

jack pinched the bridge of his nose.

you stood. “before you say anything—”

“that’s never a promising start.”

“—he was abandoned.”

jack immediately opened one eye.

you continued. “he was cold.”

the other eye opened. “and hungry.”

his expression softened despite himself.

you knew it would.

jack could pretend to be grumpy all he wanted, but he spent twelve hours a day saving people for a living. he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met.

you disappeared into the bathroom before he could argue further. a moment later, you emerged carrying the beagle puppy.

the puppy looked ridiculously small wrapped in a towel.

one floppy ear. oversized paws. sleepy brown eyes.

the second jack saw him, his face did something. not much. just enough.

that tiny shift that meant he was already losing the battle. “he’s cute,” he admitted.

victory. you grinned.

the puppy, however, had his own priorities. the second you crouched near the couch, the little beagle scrambled from your arms.

straight toward jack.

jack blinked. “oh.”

the puppy climbed directly into his lap. like he’d been doing it his entire life.

tiny tail wagging so hard his whole body wiggled. you watched in delight as jack looked down at the puppy.

the puppy looked up at jack. and that was it. gone. completely smitten. jack was finished.

the puppy pressed his nose against jack’s hand. jack immediately scratched behind one floppy ear. the puppy practically melted.

“oh my god,” you whispered.

jack didn’t even hear you. “hey, buddy.”

the puppy licked his thumb. jack smiled. an actual smile. the soft one. the one that made you fall in love with him. the one that meant you were absolutely bringing this animal home forever.

you pointed accusingly. “there it is.”

“what?”

“that face.”

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

the puppy promptly curled up against his chest and fell asleep.

you laughed. jack looked back down at the tiny sleeping beagle. then sighed. a long, defeated sigh.

“…we should probably schedule a vet appointment.”

your grin widened. “jack.”

“don’t.”

“jack.”

he rolled his eyes. “fine.”

you practically launched yourself at him.

the puppy remained asleep through the entire thing.

Jack walked into the room, two mugs of tea in hand. He set one near you and sank onto the couch, his eyes immediately drawing to Maya.

He watched her for a long moment, a crease forming between his brows. He had a... feeling, when he saw how her daughter was playing with the blocks.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jack murmured gently, leaning forward. "Do you want some of Daddy's tea?"

Maya didn't look up. Her fingers just adjusted a green block so its edges perfectly aligned with the red one before it.

"New game with the blocks?" he asked you.

You looked up at Jack, offering a tired smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "She’s been doing that for an hour. That green one seems to make her nervous. I tried to join her earlier, but if I move one, she gets... inconsolable."

"Maya?" Jack gently called her name again. "Do you need help with the green block, babygirl?"

Nothing.

It was as if a wall separated her from the rest of the room.

"Maybe she’s just focused," you said, though the words felt like you were trying to convince yourself. "Kids get hyper focused sometimes, right? She’s just independent."

"Yeah," Jack said softly, but the medical part of him was quietly cataloging everything. "Maybe."

You swallowed hard when a moment of yesterdays afternoon flashed your mind. "She screamed yesterday. When we greeted our neighbor at the front door, his dog started barking at a bird. She covered her ears screaming and ran inside. I thought she was just startled. But I found her on the kitchen floor covering her ears, even though I couldn't hear the dog from here anymore."

A heavy silence settled between you. As a doctor, Jack was used to having answers, to diagnosing and fixing. But when it came to his own daughter, that instinct felt distant, and he only witnessed paternal anxiety.

Suddenly, the microwave in the kitchen began to beep, signaling that whatever was being heated was ready. It wasn't loud, but the deep chime echoed in the silence of the night.

Maya froze. Her posture went rigid, and her hands flew to her ears, pressing down hard. A whine pitched from her throat, her eyes fixed on the floor, completely overwhelmed by a sound she heard every single day.

"Oh, baby, it's okay, it's just the microwave," you whispered, moving instantly to her side. You went to scoop her into a hug, but the moment your arms wrapped around her, she stiffened even more, crying out and pushing against your chest, desperately trying to wriggle free.

Your heart sank.

It hurted that your comfort was seemingly making it worse.

"Hold on," Jack said and moved to the kitchen to turn the sound off.

When the sound faded, Maya let her hands drop from her ears, her breathing catching in little hiccups. She reached back out for her blocks, her fingers trembling slightly as she re-aligned a red one, one that Jack had accidentally kicked when he went into the kitchen.

Then, she reached out for you, instantly croudling to your lap while hiccupping.

"I've got you, sweet girl." You stood up with your little girl in your arms and sank on the couch. Jack came back and sit beside you. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you and Maya against his side.

"I don't know how to help her when she gets like that," you confessed in a whisper. "I feel like I'm doing everything wrong. Why does she push us away?"

Jack kissed the top of your head, his grip tightening protectively around the two of you. He kept his eyes on Maya, his mind spinning with questions he didn't know how to answer yet. He knew medicine, he knew emergencies, but this was unchartered territory.

"You're not doing anything wrong," Jack promised. "We're going to figure this out. I don't know exactly what's going on in her little head right now. But we're going to find out. I'll call her pediatrician first thing in the morning, and we'll get some guidance."

He looked at you. "Whatever it is, we're a team. You, me, and Maya."

You nodded, taking comfort in his certainty, looking down at Maya, who was now entirely calm sleeping against your chest.

--------

The pediatrician’s office was quiet. You and Jack sat side by side, while Maya sat on the linoleum floor between your feet. She had found a plastic toy car in the waiting room and, instead of rolling it across the floor, she had turned it upside down and was using her thumb to spin the front left wheel over and over, completely mesmerized by the rotation.

Dr. Evans sighed gently, closing the thick folder in her hands. She looked up, her expression a mix of profound empathy and clinical clarity.

"Based on the developmental milestones we’ve reviewed, the sensory sensitivities you've described, and the observational assessments we just ran," Dr. Evans said calmly. "Maya is showing clear signs of Autism Spectrum Disorder."

The word hung in the air. Autism.

It was a word you'd both been thinking about for the past few weeks; somehow, deep down, you suspected the signs. Although the uncertainty had kept them up at night. Hearing it from a professional was like the world was suddenly collapsing around you.

You instinctively reached out, your fingers wrapping tightly around Jack’s hand. His grip was already there, waiting, holding onto you.

Jack sat entirely still. The clinical definitions in his head felt entirely useless against the wave of fear rising in his chest.

"Autism," Jack repeated. His brain was trying to force the word to make sense in the context of his three year old daughter. "So... the way she plays, the sensitivity to sounds... that's all part of it?"

"Yes, Jack," Dr. Evans replied gently with a nod. "Her brain simply processes sensory information and communication differently than a neurotypical child. She has her ways of comfort in a world that probably feels incredibly overwhelming and loud to her."

You looked down at Maya. She was still spinning the tiny plastic wheel, her face completely peaceful. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, blurring her small form. "Did... did I do something during the pregnancy? Or did we miss something early on? I should have noticed sooner..."

Dr. Evans smiled warmly, trying to comfort you. "No, darling. This is genetic, neurological. It is nobody’s fault. And you didn't miss it, she’s only three. Catching this now means we are right on time for early intervention, which makes a world of difference."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding weakly, letting Jack wipe a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. Looking at the doctor, you asked, "What does this mean for her? Is she going to be okay? Will she have trouble... talk to us, or tell us what she need? How she's feeling? What about school? Socializing?"

"Every autistic child is entirely unique," Dr. Evans explained, leaning forward. "We can't predict her exact trajectory, but Maya is incredibly bright. She just communicates on a different frequency. Our goal now isn't to fix her or change who she is, but to give her the tools to navigate our world, and to give you the tools to understand her."

She handed Jack a packet of information: brochures for speech therapy, occupational therapy for sensory processing, and local support networks.

Jack took the papers. This was going to be a lifelong journey of learning, adapting, and patience. It felt terrifying, but as he looked down at the paperwork, a strange sense of grounding replaced the initial shock.

They finally had a name for it. They had a map.

"Maybe we could start with the occupational therapy," Jack suggested. "We’ll figure out how to make our home a space where she feels safe, not overwhelmed."

"Exactly," Dr. Evans said. "You're already doing a wonderful job. The fact that you noticed and sought answers is everything."

The appointment wrapped up, and Jack stood, lifting Maya into his arms. Normally, she might have squirmed away, but she allowed it this time, burying her face into the crook of his neck while still clutching the plastic toy car. Jack held her tightly, one arm supporting her weight, the other wrapping firmly around your waist as you walked out to the car.

After the appointment, you all went to have dinner together at your favorite place, trying to clear your minds of the new life that awaited you. But then, the drive back home was suffocating.

Maya sat in her car seat in the back, staring blankly out the window as the streetlights flickered across her face.

You didn't look at Jack. You couldn't.

You just stared straight ahead, your knuckles white as you gripped your purse in your lap. Every time Jack reached across the center console to touch your knee or find your hand, you subtly shifted away, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself.

You felt like if someone touched you right now, you would brake into a million pieces, and you were desperately trying to hold it together until you were behind closed doors.

Jack kept glancing at you, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

He knew that silence. Seeing it on your face, the absolute numbness, and the hollow look in your eyes, made his chest ache.

When you finally got home, it was late, so the routine was mechanical. You carried Maya, guided her through her bath, and helped her into her pajamas.

Putting her to bed took twice as long as usual. Tonight, the texture of her favorite blanket seemed to upset her. She whined, a high pitched sound that sliced right through your nerves, pulling at her collar and refusing to lie down.

Panic, cold and sharp, flooded your veins. Is it too tight? Is the fabric too rough? Am I making it worse? Your hands shook as you tried to soothe her, your voice trembling as you whispered, "Shh, baby, it's okay, Mommy's here," but the more you tried to adjust her, the more she stiffened.

Eventually, exhaustion won. Maya’s breathing leveled out while she was on your arms, finally sleep, her tiny fingers loosely curled around your shirt.

You put her on her scrib and stood over for a long time, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The diagnosis echoed in your mind like a death knell to the future you had envisioned. Every milestone you had taken for granted felt like it had been violently ripped away, replaced by a terrifying labyrinth of therapies, specialized plans, and a world that wouldn't understand her.

Will she have a good first day of school? Will she make good friends? Will she be able to whisper secrets to you? Will she say I love you, Mommy and actually know the meaning of that?

And the worst part: you were terrified of yourself.

You closed her bedroom door and went to your room. Jack was standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, waiting for you.

"Is she down?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"Yeah," You walked past him into your bedroom.

The moment the door closed behind you, you totally broke.

A choked sob tore from your throat. You pressed your hands over your mouth to muffle the sound, your knees buckling beneath you. Before you could hit the floor, Jack was there. His strong arms caught you, pulling you violently against his chest as you collapsed into him.

"Hey, hey, I'm here," Jack murmured, his voice cracking as he hugged you. He plopped down on the bed with you, rocking you against him. "What's wrong, love? I need you to talk to me."

You gripped the fabric of his shirt, burying your face into his neck, your body shaking violently with tears. "E-Everything feels wrong, Jack." you sobbed, the raw terror finally bleeding out of you. "I don't know what to do, were do we start? Are we making the right decisions for her? I'm so scared, I just want to keep her safe from anything that hurts her."

"It's okay," he whispered calmly, though his eyes were glossy and a tear slid down his cheek into your hair. "We'll do what feels right. We have places to go, a doctor who will answer all our questions. And we'll take our time, step by step, we'll find what's best for her, okay?"

"No, you don't understand!" You pushed back slightly, your hands trembling against his chest, forcing him to look at the sheer panic in your tear-streaked face. "You're a doctor. You know what to do. You fix people, daily. I'm just... I'm her mother, Jack, and I feel I've been doing everything wrong. Every time I try to hold her, she screams. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I trigger a meltdown and I can't stop it? What if I ruin her?"

The raw vulnerability in your voice made Jack reach up, his hands framing your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," Jack commanded softly. "You think I'm not terrified? You think because I'm a doctor I have the answers to this? I don't. When Dr. Evans said those words, I felt like I couldn't breathe for a second. I'm scared too. But we are not going to ruin her. You love her. I love her. That's the only prerequisite that matters. If we make a mistake, we learn from it. If a therapy doesn't work, we try another one. But do not ever think you are alone in this fear. I am right here with you."

You let out a broken breath as you looked into his eyes.

He was terrified too.

"What if she never understand we love her? What If she never says she loves us? I want her to be okay, to feel we are here for her." you whispered, the darkest, most agonizing thought in your mind finally escaping into the open.

Jack swallowed hard, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you back into the safety of his chest.

"We will learn to read her." Jack whispered into your hair. "Because she does love us, sweetheart. She went straight into your arms after crying the other day. We'll learn from those little gestures. We are never, ever going to give up on her. Or on each other."

Jack kept his arms wrapped tightly around you. He didn't try to dismiss your fears. He knew the road ahead was going to be steep, and he knew there would be days where the frustration felt insurmountable. But as he looked toward the door, thinking of the little girl sleeping soundly just down the hall, a protective warmth settled over his chest.

Gently, he nudged your chin up with his fingers.

"Doll," he murmured, catching your attention.

You blinked through your blurred vision, leaning into his hand.

"She is our amazing girl," Jack said, his thumb wiping away the last trace of a tear from your cheek. "She is exactly who she was meant to be. Our girl. And if she can't say the words, then we will learn to read her. We are going to learn her language, sweetheart. I promise you."

You nodded, pressing your face back into the crook of his neck, finally letting your body go heavy against his.

There were still a thousand unanswered questions, and tomorrow would bring a whole new reality to navigate. But your amazing girl was safe, sleeping calmly on her bed. And, while listening to the calm beat of Jack’s heart beneath your cheek, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

------------- Bonus scene

Jack slipped into his six years old daughter's room quietly. He watched her form tangled in her sheets. She was already half awake, staring intently at the dust motes dancing in the morning light, her fingers trying to catch the sun rays.

"Good morning, sleepy girl," Jack murmured, keeping his voice low. He waited, giving her a moment to register his presence.

Maya blinked, her gaze shifting to Jack’s face.

"Daddy," she said, her voice raspy with sleep.

"Ready for breakfast?" Jack smiled, offering his hand. Maya took it, letting him lift her out of bed.

Jack knew that morning rutines were their best friend now. He always placed her favorite plate and fork on the table in the exact positions she preferred. Today, he brought over a stepstool so she could stand next to him at the counter.

"We’re making pancakes today," Jack announced, measuring out the flour. "Do you want to pour the milk?"

"Yes, please." Maya nodded solemnly. She took the measuring cup of milk with both hands, her tongue poking out slightly in intense concentration.

Jack kept a steadying hand near, but he let her do it herself. She poured it into the bowl, watching the white liquid splash into the flour with rapt fascination.

"Good job, baby," Jack praised softly.

But when he was goint to take the cup, Maya tapped it against the side of the bowl three times, making sure there wasn't a single drop on it. Tap, tap, tap. Then she paused and did it again. Tap, tap, tap.

"There, done, daddy."

Jack just smiled, recognizing it as her rhythm. "Nice beat, kiddo," he said, taking the cup; then the spoon to finish the batter.

Minutes later, the kitchen was filled with the sweet aroma of pancakes. Jack cut her pancake into squares and sat down next to her at the table.

Maya ate with her usual pace, entirely focused on each bite. As she chewed, she suddenly stopped, her shoulders relaxing. She looked up at Jack.

"I like breakfast with dad," she said clearly. The cadence of her voice was a little flat, a little rehearsed, like it was an inside thought, but the words were entirely her own.

Jack froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. A wave of overwhelming emotion hit him so hard it brought a sudden sting to his eyes. He reached over, gently squeezing her small hand. "I like breakfast with you too, Maya. More than anything."

From the doorway, a soft sound caught Jack's attention.

You were standing there, leaning against the frame, wrapped in a oversized cardigan. Your hair was a bit messy from sleep and the expression on your face was pure awe. You had caught every single word.

Jack met your gaze with a smile across his face. You heard her? his eyes seemed to say.

You nodded and walked up behind him, resting your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek before looking at your daughter.

"Room for one more at the table, sweet girl?" you asked softly.

Maya looked up at the sound of your voice. She didn't say yes or good morning. Instead, she picked up a piece of pancake with her fork and held it out toward you in a straight line, offering it to you.

You smiled, leaning down to take the bite before sitting next to her.

Maya looked at you, her big eyes blinking as she processed your presence. For a moment, she just stared, her hands resting on the table.

Then, completely unprompted, she slid off her own chair.

Maya approached you, turned around, and leaned her back against you, waiting for you to lift her onto your lap. When you did, she snuggled against your chest, her back pressing against you as she got comfortable.

You waited a second before you gently wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close but leaving her enough room so she wouldn't feel trapped.

She didn't stiffen. She didn't push you away. She just sat with you, anchoring herself in your warmth.

Across the table, Jack watched the two of you in silence.

Maya reached down, carefully picking up her fork. With concentration, she stabbed a piece of pancake, with no syrup, exactly how she liked it, and lifted it up, holding it out toward your mouth.

"Eat, Mama," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the fork.

You leaned down and gently took the bite from her fork, chewing it as you rested your chin on the top of her soft hair, inhaling her sweet, sleepy scent.

"Thank you, baby," you whispered. "It’s delicious."

Maya nodded once, satisfied with your reaction, and immediately went back to looking at the rest of her plate, entirely content in the safety of your lap.

You looked up, meeting Jack’s gaze across the table. He reached you, his hand finding yours and squeezing it tightly.

Lately, there were no words needed between the two of you. The fear of the unknown hadn't entirely vanished after years, but sitting there in the quiet morning, with your daughter tucked safely against you, you knew Jack was right.

You were learning her language, step by step, and the journey was beautiful.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

For as long as Y/N Robinavitch could remember, she was constantly behind her brother.

Most times it was literal. Sometimes though… It was a nagging feeling she’d get in the deepest parts of her chest.

Being raised by their strict, single, ER Nurse of a grandmother in downtown Pittsburgh wasn’t as easy as it sounded. And Robby heard the phrase ‘take your sister with you!’ more times than he’d like. Y/N would always stand somewhat behind their grandmother, smiling hopefully. Hoping this time he wouldn’t roll his eyes or argue back.

Or make her walk ahead of him and his friends.

She couldn’t remember when he started acting nice to her. But at a certain point in her late teen years and Robby’s early 20s, he began to actually like spending time with his baby sister.

He never really knew how much he inspired her to be better. To grow from where they came from. And so, even in her grown age.. Even with all her accomplishments..

Y/N was always behind her brother.

And not many people saw her there. His opposing frame hid her most of the time. But one man did.

Jack Abbot.

It had been a simple moment. One that Y/N wondered if Jack even remembered. Or even realized how significant it was.

One morning, she’d been at her desk after being told something by Robby. He’d walked over to check on her and then leaned in close to her ear. ‘Don’t listen to Robby. You’re doing. Fucking. Amazing..’

Those words.

They were casual enough to any outsider, but the look he’d given her afterwards, it had caused a blush to boil up to the surface. From then on, Y/N had a crush.

This wasn’t her first time having a crush on one of Robby’s friends. But this was the first time one of Robby’s friends made it clear they had a crush on her too. Jack found himself remembering the small things. He trained himself at being fluent over understanding the looks on her face.

Lips pressed tight? She’s thinking hard.

What does she need? Someone to listen to her idea.

Slight pout? She’s feeling drained.

What does she need? Coffee. Specifically from the deli a block away from the hospital because their coffee is stronger than the hospital’s.

Squeezing her eyes? She’s trying not to cry.

What does she need? Not you asking her what’s wrong. She’ll just say she’s okay. She’s Robby’s little sister after all. No, just get her something that’ll make her smile. Her favorite snack. Set it on her desk when she’s not looking. She’ll accept it only then.

Jack became an expert at reading Y/N like a book. And there were always new pages to explore. And then one night, drunk in the park from a terrible shift, Y/N made her move. The kiss ignited Jack. But he had to cut it short, much to her dismay. It had made him chuckle a bit. ‘If I’m gonna kiss you.. I’m gonna do it the right way..’

The very next day, Jack sat with Robby on the roof. And told him everything. Flat out. It wasn’t easy. They did fight. But once Robby let himself listen… He realized just how much Jack cared for her.

See… Life is too short. Being in this line of work, you get that. Robby could die tomorrow. He was the only family Y/N had left. And… It brought him some peace to know that even if it was his time to go… Y/N would still have someone. She’d have Jack.

Robby never thought about it the other way around though. He never considered that maybe one day… He’d lose the only family he had left..

And Y/N was guilty of this too.

Until she watched the red and black Subaru Outback run a red light and head straight for her…

*

*

*

“Where’s your better half?” Robby asks the minute Jack steps off the elevator. Jack slows his footing, eyeing Robby with humor clear on his face.

“First of all.. Ouch.” Jack taunts. “Secondly,” He continues as he walks over to his friend. “What are you talking about? She’s officially back on day shift..” He says to jog Robby’s memory. Robby frowns at that. If that was the case.. Y/N was late. Really late.

The red phone at the nurse’s station rings as Robby checks his phone. Usually there’d be a string of texts from her, apologizing and explaining why she’s running late.

But.. Nothing.

In fact, their last text thread had been from last night. Y/N had asked if Robby knew why Jack was acting so odd lately. Robby tried to push out the image of the ring his friend had shown him earlier this month, instead texting back ‘You know Jack. Could be anything..’

The two had ended their conversation with a goodnight and then an ‘I love you’ from Y/N’s side which Robby had replied to with a playful thumbs up emoji. Y/N had sent back a thumbs down, her last text being ‘You never say it back!’

Robby pockets his phone as Jack checks his. “I’m sure she’s okay. Uh… She left real early this morning. Something about uh… Your grandmother’s grave? I think? I think she was gonna go visit her..” Jack says softly. Robby frowns softly. She only went to visit their grandmother when she needed to rant about something. Probably about Jack acting weird lately.

“Sweet Jesus…” Dana breathes out as she gets the description of the two individuals coming in from a bad car accident just seven blocks away from the hospital. “Fuck.” She mutters as her eyes instantly move to the two men of Y/N’s life. Taking a deep breath, she gets off the phone with paramedics and rubs her forehead.

“Okay!” She finally shouts, needing all eyes on her. “We’ve got two incoming. Car accident. One code blue. One code green but intoxicated…” She shouts.

“You and me?” Jack asks Robby as he nods. Dana quickly walks over to them. “You two get the code green.” She orders. The two men frown at that. “Mel! Langdon! Code Blue incoming. Prep.” She orders them. They nod and run off to get ready.

“Shouldn’t we handle-“ Dana cuts Robby off.

“Shouldn’t you listen to me? Go. Prep.” She says to them, hoping they’d miss seeing Y/N get rolled in. They shake it off and go to get ready. Dana heads outside to the ambulance bay and paces a bit as the first ambulance pulls up.

“Male. 37. You can smell the drinks from here.” A female paramedic says as they jump out of the van and head to the back. Dana tries to keep the anger off her face.

Everyone deserves medical treatment…

Robby and Jack come rushing over, guiding the paramedics on where to go from here. The guy keeps slurring things like ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Came out of nowhere’ as they wheel him to an operating room.

Ambulance two pulls up and Dana can’t look, but she owes it to Y/N. “Female. (your age). Unresponsive on scene…” A male paramedic says as Mel and Langdon come rushing out but freeze as they see who it is.

“Not a fucking word to Robby or Jack. You hear?” Dana mutters to both shocked doctors as they quickly nod, knowing time is too precious to hesitate. “Go! Work!” Dana orders. They guide the paramedics to another operating room, focusing on Y/N as if she was just another patient.

But she was so much more…

Jack and Robby pull in Santos to help out. The guy’s got two broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, and a laceration to his spleen from the seatbelt and impact. They work to stabilize him, and only when they’re sure he’s okay enough to head up to the OR, do they leave him in the hands of Santos and now Javadi.

The two men step out into the hallway and with a heavy sigh, Robby checks his phone again. Still nothing. Dana watches from behind the nurse’s station as Jack tries calling her phone finally. The ringtone comes from a paramedic’s back pocket.

It’s like time stands still.

Robby has heard that phrase before from people. He’s never questioned what that means exactly. He just always assumed it felt how it sounded.

But here’s how it feels..

Everything around you… Is barely moving now. You are barely breathing now. Hell, you don’t even know when your last breath was. But you think you can go longer.

No breathing.

If you don’t breathe, it won’t hurt. He doesn’t remember the paramedic handing over Y/N’s phone. He doesn’t remember taking it. He doesn’t remember walking over to the other operation room.

He’s on the outside looking in for the first time in his career. And he doesn’t like this position. He doesn’t like the view. Jack and Dana try to stop him. He can’t say how he slipped away from them. He’s moving in slow motion. Or at least that’s how it feels. He hears nothing but a loud ringing in his ears as he enters the room.

Have you ever watched a scary movie?

Maybe you’re in the audience. Watching on the big screen as a figure stands in the middle of a room with a blanket over them. The main character inches closer.

The tension builds.

Maybe your shoulders tense as you mumble a quiet ‘no’. And then the sheet is yanked back. And you feel a jolt through your heart and travel down your body. That was Robby.

Watching his actions. Watching his body on autopilot as he finally pulled the blanket back and saw who was being worked on.

His baby sister..

“No!”

The word leaves a mouth, but it’s not Robby’s. It’s Jack’s. He grips Robby, standing in front of him to hold him back and only then does reality seep back in to Robby’s head. He’s crying.

When did he start crying?!

It’s like he’s broken through the surface again, gasping without meaning to.

Fuck, it hurts.

Jack holds him back, pushing him out of the operating room. He still had enough sanity to know Y/N needed to be worked on. And him or Robby in that room would do more harm than good.

“You two gotta go. You can’t be here.” Dana says as Jack gets Robby out of the room and back into the hallway. Robby feels like the whole ED is spinning. And then his eyes land on the operation room where their Code Green was still in. Laid out comfortably while he waited for his turn in the OR.

“Son of a bit-“ Dana cuts Robby off.

“Hey! Hey..” She gets in his way. “That won’t help a thing. I need you to go have a seat. And let the doctors do their job..” She says.

It’s like a blow to the gut.

Robby clenches his jaw at those words. Words that have left his mouth in the past with ease. What a cruel thing to hear now..

He slowly gives in when Dr. Al-Hashimi walks closer to lead him away. Jack’s feet stay rooted though. It’s as if now that he’s not holding Robby back, he actually has to face the reality too. That on that operating table is the love of his life…

“Jack. You should go too..” Dana whispers as she touches his shoulder. He shakes his head fast, eyes welling up. It’s like a rope is tightening around his neck.

“No..” He quietly whispers, practically mouthing it. “Not her…” He manages to wheeze out. He slowly looks at Dana, breaking her heart. “It’s not her..” He mutters. If he says it enough times it’ll be true.

That’s not his Y/N. It can’t be.

“Go sit down..” Dana tries again as he lets her lead him away from the operating room and towards the break room instead.

*

*

*

Robby can’t sit down. And Jack can’t stand up.

The irony of it, really.

Two of the most capable doctors of this Pitt, completely at the mercy of fate.

And both men know.. Fate can be cruel…

The break room door opens and Mel rushes in first. She freezes though when she sees what Jack is staring at in silent mournfulness. She’s still wearing her bloody scrubs. “Oh. Uh…” She quickly yanks at the white coverup and sheepishly hands it over to an awaiting Langdon. She then looks back at Jack and Robby.

“She’s a fighter.” She begins with a soft nod to assure them. Jack shuts his eyes. It feels like he’s been plunged into an ice bath. He breathes shakily as Robby rubs his sweaty face, also allowing those three words a moment to breathe in the silence.

“She pulled through real well.” Langdon says, voice a bit rough with emotion. Like he could just imagine the panic and pain of today for these two men. “Obvious signs of a concussion though. Slight whiplash of the neck, fractures of one rib, and.. The most concerning thing is a bruised lung, but…-“ Jack cuts Langdon off.

“Where is she?” He asks. He just wanted to see her. See her with his own two eyes.

“She awake?” Robby asks.

“She might be? She got moved upstairs…” Mel says softly as she fidgets a bit, watching both men with a deep frown.

They two rush out of the room before anymore can be said. Up to the eight floor they go. With heavy arms, they step off the elevator. And from the look the girl who’s running the nurse’s station up there gives them, it’s clear word has spread on who Y/N is..

She nods towards a room without having to be asked and Jack is faster than Robby. He wants to push past him though. Wants to get to Y/N first.. But he knows deep down Jack can only act strong for so long. He watches from outside the room as Jack drops to his knees by Y/N’s bed, grabbing her hand ever so softly so he can hold it to his cheek. He turns his back to give his friend this moment…

*

*

*

No one bothers Jack.

No one brings up how odd it is that he has yet to leave Y/N’s side.

No one brings up how odd it is that Robby came back down to work instead.

No one… Except for Princess, that is.

Robby sits at his desk trying to focus on the task at hand when he hears her and Perlah walking over to the nurse’s station together. “I’m telling you. I think they’re dating. 10 bucks on it..” Princess says.

“You really think that?” Perlah asks in surprise.

“Why else is he up there?” Princess raises an eyebrow back. “It’s obvious..” She shrugs. Robby has heard enough.

With a low huff, Robby gets up from his desk and walks over to the two women as they stand by the nurse’s station. “I didn’t know Dr. Y/N’s personal life was apart of your job description, ladies.” He states sharply as he watches the nurses. Princess stiffens a bit, as if she didn’t expect him to be here.

“I… Am so sorry, Dr. Robby..” She mumbles as he eyes both women.

“Why don’t we focus on work.” He suggests shortly before walking past. Dana watches the interaction from afar, sighing to herself.

Robby knew sitting in that room, watching Y/N in that bed, wouldn’t help him in any way.

He needed to keep moving.

He needed to keep busy.

So he worked.

He worked until 7:40pm or so. He kept his head down as he did, until he’s practically shoved out of the ED by Shen who had heard everything from day shift.

Stepping off the elevator, he nods politely to the night nurse at the nurse’s station. He moves over to Y/N’s room pausing as he sees Jack stroke her face and push back her hair to tenderly kiss her forehead. Y/N is awake and the two seem to be having a moment. He averts his eyes to give them some privacy before he finally taps on the glass door to make himself known.

Jack looks over and so does Y/N. She smiles a bit, some cuts on her face and a bruise on her left shoulder, but she smiles.

And Robby feels settled..

She slowly lifts her left hand with a slight wince, showing off the ring on her finger. Robby keeps his emotions down enough to whisper a soft ‘congratulations’ to them both. Jack eyes the siblings. “I… Uh… I’m gonna get you more pillows..” He says. Y/N gently touches his cheek before letting him go.

Robby watches Jack leave before looking back at his sister. “No more driving for you.” He says simply. She goes to chuckle and then winces, coughing as she touches her chest. She grabs a notepad on her bed tray.

‘Don’t make me laugh! Hurts!’

Robby reads it and chuckles quietly. He shakes his head at that. “Y/N..” He whispers, getting slightly choked up. She frowns softly and places her finger to her lips in order to stop him from talking before she goes back to writing. She turns the notepad towards him.

‘I’m glad you two had each other today..’

Robby stares at the sentence for a while as it begins to really sink in. See… Life is too short.

Being in this line of work, you get that.

Robby could die tomorrow, and he was the only family Y/N had left. It brought him some peace to know that even if it was his time to go one day, Y/N would still have someone.

She’d have Jack.

Robby never thought about it the other way around though. And as he watched Y/N, he realized the same thought brought her peace too.

The thought that if anything happened.. He’d have Jack too.

Smiling softly, Robby slowly sits down by her bedside.

“Let’s see that ring. It better be expensive.” He finally jokes, making Y/N smile as she lays back in the hospital bed, showing off her left hand again..

After twelve relentless hours at PTMC, Jack was running on little more than caffeine and stubborn determination. Yet as he stepped out of his truck and looked toward the warm glow of the house, a small smile tugged at his lips. He knew exactly what was waiting for him on the other side of that door. 

With a tired sigh, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed the stainless-steel tumbler that had carried him through the night. Empty now, it swung lightly from his hand as he climbed the front steps. With his free hand, he fished around in his pocket until his fingers found the familiar shape of his key. 

He eased the key into the lock and slipped through the front door as quietly as he could. Chances were you and his baby girl were still asleep, and he intended to keep it that way. The house was peaceful, and after the chaos of the emergency room, he found himself reluctant to disturb it.

He dragged a hand down his face, feeling the coarse stubble that had taken over his jaw over the last few days. Shaving had fallen somewhere near the bottom of his priority list.

Easing out of his tennis shoes, he left them by the door and carefully set his backpack beside them. The house was quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that only existed in the hours before the rest of the world woke up.

He crossed the hardwood floor on silent feet and slipped into the kitchen. Setting his tumbler in the sink, he winced at the faint metallic clink that broke the stillness, then paused to listen. When no movement followed, he continued on, relieved he hadn’t disturbed anyone. 

He decided a quick shower downstairs was in order before making his way upstairs. Then he’d crawl into bed beside you, burying himself in the familiar comfort of your arms and the scent of your shampoo before exhaustion finally claimed him. It had become a rountine neither of you ever spoke about, but one he looked forward to after every shift. 

In a few hours, you’d wake before he did. You always did. While he caught up on the sleep he’d sacrificed all night for strangers, you’d keep your daughter occupied downstairs, filling the house with breakfast, cartoons, and quiet laughter so Daddy could rest a little longer. 

As the hot water poured of him, Jack felt some of the day’s weight begin to slide from his shoulders. Twelve hours of chaos, fluroscent lights, and life-or-death decisions swirled down the drain along with the soap and sweat. 

By the time he shut off the water, the knot between his shoulder blades had loosened, if only a little.

He grabbed a towel and dried himself off, the familiar scent of fresh detergent clinging to the fabric. The corners of his mouth twitched upward.

You always made sure the towels smelled good. 

Dressed in a pair of sleep pants, he paused in front of the mirror and studied his reflection. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and several days worth of stubble covered his jaw,. 

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.

He looked exhausted.

Worse than exhausted, really. Worn down. Like the last few weeks had caught up to him all at once. 

It felt worse than when his daughter had first been born. At least back then, there’d been a reason for the sleepless nights. Tiny cries at three in the morning. Bottles. Diapers. The indescribable joy of holding his little girl against his chest. 

This?

This was just work. Endless, exhausting work. 

He decided—one again—that shaving could wait. Another day. Maybe two. At this rate, he might accidentally end up with a beard. 

The thought made him huff out a quiet laugh.

Leaving the bathroom behind, he made his way upstairs, careful to avoid the creaky spots he knew by heart. The house remained silent around him as he climbed the staircase and headed down the hall toward the master bedroom. 

The door was closed.

Of course it was.

You always slept with the door shut. Whether it was for privacy, comfort, or simply habit, he wasn’t entirely sure anymore. He’d stopped questioning it years ago. Now the sight of the closed door waiting for him at the end of a long shift felt oddly comforting—a small sign he was finally home. 

He took a deep breath as his hand settled on the doorknob. Turning it carefully, he eased the door open, mindful not to disturb the peaceful scene he was certain awaited him on the other side. 

As the door cracked open, you came into view.

You were curled up on your side of the bed, buried beneath the blankets, your hair spread across the pillow.

A smile immediately tugged at Jack’s lips.

Then his gaze shifted, and the smile grew.

Nestled beside of you was your four-year-old daughter, fast asleep and sprawled halfway across the mattress as if she owned it. One tiny hand rested against your shoulder, her favorite stuffed animal trapped beneath her arm.

Of course she’d ended up in your bed.

She must have wandered in sometime during the night after another bad dream or a sudden need for Mommy cuddles. 

The sight alone was enough to melt away what remained of the exhaustion clinging to him. After twelve hours spent dealing witht he worst moments of other people’s lives, this felt like stepping into a different world entirely. 

His world.

Jack quietly crossed to your side of the bed and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His fingers slopped through your hair, brushing a few stray strands away from your face. 

“Hey, baby,” he murmured. 

You let out a sleepy hum, your eyes still closed.

“Mornin’,” you mumbled. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You awake?”

“Barely.”

Your hand drifted up, finding his jaw. The moment your fingertips brushed the rough stubbe there, you paused.

A sleepy frown crossed your face.

“Ow.”

Jack snorted. “Ow?”

You rubbed your thumb against his jaw again. “Your face is scratchy.” 

“I just got home.”

“Mhm.” Your voice was thick with sleep. “And still haven’t shaved in days.”

He laughed quietly. “Is that a complaint?”

“It’s an observation.”

Your eyes fluttered open just enough to look at him. “A very, sexy concerning observation.”

Jack shook his head. “It isn’t that bad.”

“It absolutely is.” You yawned. “You kissed me and I thought a cactus had attacked my forehead.” 

That earned a geniune laugh from him. 

His gaze drifted down to your daughter, curled uop between the two of you, her stuffed rabbit tucked tightly against her chest. 

“What happened here?”, he whispered.

You glanced down at her, your expression immediately softening. “Bad dream.”

His smile faded into concern. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Came into our room around two in the morning crying about a monster in her closet.” You brushed a hand through your daughter’s messy hair. “I checked three times, but apparently sleeping with Mommy fixed everything.”

A sleepy chuckled escaped Jack. “Sounds serious.”

“Oh, extremely serious. The monster was apparently ‘this big’.” You held your fingers a few inches apart. “Terrifying stuff.”

He smiled, watching his daughter sleep peacefully now.  “My poor baby girl.” 

Careful not to wake her, Jack leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

The moment his stubbel brushed her skin, your daughter scrunched up her face in her sleep and let out a displeased little whine. 

“She was okay after a few cuddles.” You glanced back up at him. “Though she did steal your side of the bed.”

Jack looked at the little girl sprawled diagonally across the mattress and huffed a laugh. Her tiny hand came up and rubbed the spot on her forehead before she burrowed deeper into the pillow, still fast asleep. 

You immediately bit down on your lip, fighting a laugh.

“Even she thinks it’s scratchy.” 

Jack groaned. “She’s four.”

“And yet she still agress with me.”

“I will shave soon,” Jack sighed, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm.”

“I will.”

“That’s what you said three days ago.”

Then your hand found his jaw again. “I do mean it, though.”

Jack looked back at you. “What?”

“The stubble.”

A sleepy smile curved your lips.

“It’s sexy.”

His chest warmed instantly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, almost makes me want another one of these with you.”

You nodded towards your daughter. 

“Maybe we can arrange that. Later.”, he laughed before kissing you on the lips. 

“But seriously,” you began, breaking the kiss. “If it gets much longer, our daughter is gonna start introducing you as a mountain man.”

Jack laughed hard enough that he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from waking her.

“Now come to bed, mountain man”, you whispered, lifting the comforter for him. “Before you fall asleep standing up.”

Jack carefully climbed beneath the blankets, trying not to disturb his daughter. The moment he settled in, she instinctively scooted toward him in her sleep, throwing a leg across his waist.

You snorted. “Looks like she missed you.”

Jack wrapped an arm around her tiny frame and smiled, careful to kiss her hair this time. “Missed her too.” 

He laughed, full bellied and loud, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder and his arms circling your waist loosely again.

“It’s not funny,” you protested, unable to hide the laugh from your own voice. “You can’t go over there with banana goop all over your shirt. And your poor hair!” You patted at the beautiful mixture of dark and silver curls with the back of your hand, as if apologizing to them for sullying them with your sticky banana-laced fingers.

Jack only pulled back for a moment, still grinning but looking down at you with that familiar smug look you’d fallen for so long ago.

“Believe it or not, they have this great new invention for that,” he drawled, ducking his head to peck you on the cheek. “It’s called shampoo,” he murmured. “Supposed to really be something.”

You rolled your eyes, half heartedly pushing him off so you could wash your hands. “It’s only new to you, old timer.”

You felt almost silly walking through the ED with a paper plate of banana bread muffins, all wrapped up in saran wrap. The clean antiseptic smell in the air stung your nostrils, and you could hear crying from down the hall. It always amazed you how Jack could come back to this, day after day and night after night. It wore him down, sure, no one could leave completely unaffected by the things they saw, but he remained steadfast and stubborn, the same headstrong man who insisted on your fourth date that you’d be married someday with the confidence of a man who knew he was right.

You paused as you neared the central desk, looking around and trying to decide where the best place was to drop off the muffins. You hoped you’d see Jack, just to say a quick hello and tell him about the treat you’d made for him, but you didn’t want to distract him when there was work to be done and lives to be saved. The staff lounge was always a safe bet, but you hadn’t thought to bring a note to leave with them. You didn’t want them sitting there untouched, knowing only a few of the staff who’d been there for years would recognize your form of offering to the kind and dedicated staff of the Pitt. Even the med students deserved a muffin though, especially after the stories Jack had told you about the new recruits struggling with proper nutrition, shoving a few protein bars into their bags at the beginning of their shift and hoping it would be enough to sustain them for 12 hours.

Not on your watch. You would find some spare paper and a pen, and make sure everyone knew they were welcome to a snack. You might even draw an embarrassing heart or write a love letter and slip it into Jack’s locker for him to find at the end of shift.

You were hugging the wall, looking around for Lena or another familiar face not wearing anything bloodstained when someone approached you.

“Excuse me?” the woman asked. “Ma’am, you can’t be here. Only active patients are allowed back here, you have to wait your turn in chairs until someone brings you back.” You laughed. This wasn’t the first time you’d been mistaken for someone drifting through the wrong door just to end up in the middle of the ED.

“Oh no,” you started, “I’m not a patient. I’m actually here to see a doctor.”

The woman, a pretty woman you’d guess to be somewhere in her forties, glanced over you, as if she was weighing the odds between believing you or not. The plate of securely wrapped muffins in your hands seemed to sway her in your favor.

“Which doctor?” she asked, suspicion leaking into her voice.

“Dr. Jack Abbot,” you answer. “He’s my-”

“Oh, Jack!” she all but squealed, instantly brightening at your husband’s name. “I love Jack, he’s practically my work husband.” The warm smile on your face flickered at that, a bitter taste forming in your mouth that you weren’t familiar with.

“Is that so?”

The woman, Cheryl, it said on the ID badge clipped to her pocket, seemed to need very little prompting to launch into a tirade of reasons to love Jack. All of which were right, you knew, but somehow that did little to stop the growing knot in your stomach.

“Jack’s the best,” she said, guiding you towards the desk she must have been occupying when she noticed you standing by the wall. “He’s always helping me with my patients, checking it to make sure I’m doing alright, making little jokes just for us,” she looked down almost bashfully, a faint pink rising to her cheeks, though she found no issue continuing to talk.“He walks me to my car at night sometimes. He’s just always there, helping me, looking out for me.”

“Y-yeah,” you fumbled for words. All of that sounds like Jack, in a way. “He’s a great attending. The PTMC is lucky to have him.” You realized with a clench in your stomach that his coffee mug was on her desk, the same goofy travel mug that read Best Doctor on One Leg that you’d gotten him as a joke Christmas present one year. You’d just washed it the night before, still shocked he still used the damn thing outside of the house. Cheryl snorted a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” she said, leaning across the desk and speaking with an almost conspiratorial hush. “But he’s really here for me in particular, if you know what I mean.” If she can tell from your expression that your stomach drops, the plate of muffins now set aside on the central desk because they feel too heavy for your tired wrists, she doesn’t give any indication. “It’s crazy, it’s like every time I look behind me he’s just staring at me.”

She seemed to remember she was at work and not with her friends at a bar gushing over the cute boys they liked, suddenly looking a bit sheepish.

“So, why are you here to see Jack? Did he treat you?”

You plastered on a fake smile, suddenly wishing you’d taken those acting classes in high school. “Oh, uh, no. No, I just know him. I wanted to bring these by for everyone working today,” you tap the plate of muffins, your hands feeling too unsteady to risk holding them. “I figured I would say hi if I saw him, but he’s got to be busy, y’know, saving lives!”

Cheryl gave you an odd smile then, noticing for the first time that something was wrong. There was something concerned in her eyes, almost pitying, that made you want to crawl out of your skin. 

“Okay, well, I’ll tell him someone stopped by,” she offered, using a comforting tone usually reserved for children and people more upset than the situation called for. 

Someone. You were “someone.”

You nodded, too sharply, already turning on your heels. “Thanks, you do that.” You grimaced as you began to walk away, cursing yourself for everything that had happened in the last ten minutes.

You were curled up on the couch when Jack came home the next morning. It wasn’t unusual for you to be up so early, preparing a quick breakfast for your husband so you’d be sure he actually ate something and took some time to rest before heading to the gym to work off some stress or collapsing in bed after a quick shower. This morning you’d done none of that though. You had slept like shit, laying awake on Jack’s side of the bed, head pressed to his pillow to breathe in the smell of his shampoo and something distinctly him, watching the ceiling fan spin in endless circles above you. You’d tossed and turned, only slipping under for a few hours at a time before you realized with an uncomfortable ache that you were awake again. 

By four in the morning you’d given up, hauling yourself unceremoniously out of bed and trudging to the couch. With a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a book in hand, you collapsed with a huff, wincing as you turned on the lamp on the end table, even the low light feeling like a sudden intrusion. You stared at the lamp once your eyes adjusted, taking in the smooth porcelain and the small imperfections in the glaze. It was a gift, you remembered, something off your and Jack’s wedding registry. You had loved the set of lamps you’d found at a local farmer’s market, the other part of the pair sitting on a table at the far end of the couch, where you usually sat tucked under your husband’s arm, pressed against his chest to listen to his heart beating, but you had a hard time justifying the cost. Weddings were already so expensive, and even with the modest way you’d chosen to have your ceremony, you didn’t want to go overboard. Jack had laughed at you, teasingly daring you to find handmade lamps at a better price anywhere else, let alone ones that had you so immediately enamored. It wasn’t until two years into your marriage that Jack had admitted during a quiet moment, curled up around each other in bed, that he had been the one to buy the lamps. He had given you that easy smile, all crinkled edges and sleep-tussled hair, when he explained it like it was simple. You had wanted them, but didn’t think you’d deserved them. He disagreed, and, being Jack Abbot, went about fixing it in the most him way possible, treating you with the kindness you’d always yearned for even though you hadn’t even realized it at the time.

You still loved the lamps. Imperfections and all.

Jack kicked off one of his shoes at the door, leaving the other on his prosthesis until he could sit down. He shrugged off his heavy army backpack, laden with all the tools you knew he carried and hoped he never needed, and rested it in the seat of one of the dining room chairs. He moved towards the couch, stepping unevenly at the height difference from still having one shoe on.

“Goodmorning, beautiful.” His hands swept through your hair, gently brushing it out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, lingering for a moment before straightening back up.

“Have you slept at all?”

You shrugged lazily, giving him a weak smile.

“Some. Definitely not enough though.” You patted the space on the couch next to you, uncurling your legs to make room for him.

Jack joined you on the couch, lowering himself down carefully with a faint grimace. His hands moved to his pant leg, tugging up the fabric to undo the fastenings of his prosthesis. Once it was off, and he’d let out a deep sigh of relief he’d never let anyone else hear, his artificial limb propped up to stand on the floor beside him, he held an arm out to you. You eagerly moved towards him, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder to draw you closer and press a whiskery kiss to your temple.

“Welcome home,” you said, giving him an easier smile as you settled into your spot against him. He leaned back into the couch, letting the soft cushions welcome him like an embrace.

“I missed you,” you continued, no longer trying to hide just how tired you were, physically and emotionally. “I always sleep better when you’re here.”

“I know, sweetheart.” His hand moved soothingly up and down your arm. “I sleep better with you too.”

“Shen said he saw you during our shift.” There was no accusation to his statement, just a light lilting tone of confusion. You’d never go in and not ask to see him, even if you only had time to press a kiss to his cheek and tell him how proud you were of him before sending him off again with a cheeky wink and the occasional slap to his ass if no one was around.

“Yeah, I made some banana bread muffins and thought you and the troops could use a pick me up.” 

Jack didn’t acknowledge how you side stepped the question he hadn’t asked.

“So I saw. They were delicious, by the way,” he added. “We almost had to intervene so Joy wouldn’t get too territorial over them. Thank you, for bringing them in.” Another kiss was pressed to your temple, lingering a little longer than the last. “I’ve gotta admit, I had my doubts when you started freezing bananas, but I stand corrected.” You chuckled softly. “Damn right you do,” you murmured into his scrub top. The antiseptic smell still clung to him, but you could pick up enough of him that it didn’t matter. “Never question my freezer organization skills against mister.”

Jack chuckled, his nose pressing into your hair and drawing in a deep breath. His hand drew lazily up and down your arm for a few moments as you sat in silence, just taking each other in again after a long day. 

“Want to tell me why you didn’t wait to see me today?” Jack’s voice was quiet, his low tone rumbling in a way you always loved. There was no pressure in his question, just genuine interest and a tinge of concern. You could tell him no, and he’d accept it, just draw you into a firm hug and hold you until he went to shower before joining you back in bed.

“It’s stupid,” you confessed. You toyed idly with the drawstring of his scrub pants, knowing your frown looked more like a pout than you wanted it to. 

“Nothing about you is stupid,” he said seriously, tipping his head a bit lower to press his forehead against the crown of your downturned head. “Sometimes questionable in the moment,” he continued, that gruff humorous lilt coming back, “but if we’ve learned anything from the bananas, you have your reasons.”

You rolled your eyes, lifting your head to look at him. He had a self-satisfied look on his face, giving you a sweet smile and a quick peck on the lips when you shook your head at him. 

“You haven’t had, like, a super terrible day, right?” You would kick yourself later if you didn’t ask. Some days he came home barely able to do anything but shrug and mumble responses, the ED bleeding him dry of any semblance of emotional energy.

Jack smiled softly. “No, sweetheart. Just regular terrible.” His hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Not so terrible I can’t hear about yours.”

You gave him a small but appreciative smile, returning the squeeze of his hand. 

“I ran into one of your coworkers before I could find Lena,” you began, voice coming out slightly quieter than usual. Even with his reassurance, you felt silly acting like it was a real problem. “She was nice. New, I think. I’d never met her before, anyway, and I don’t think you’ve mentioned her.” Jack hummed, his broad hand slowly rubbing your back, urging you gently when you paused. “I was going to ask if you were around, but she didn’t really give me a chance. She was talking about you, how great you are and how much she loves being around you.” Jack kept his expression neutral, his brow still furrowed as he nodded along, not letting the praise get to him or stroke his ego.

“Obviously she’s right to think all that and say all that,” you add, giving your husband a shy smile to say that it was okay to smile or joke about it. “Honestly, you deserve way more than anything she or I could ever say, but…I don’t know. Something about it felt off.” Jack frowned. “Off how?” he prompted.

You shook your head, trying to guide the pieces together in your sleepless mind. 

“It felt personal to her,” you settle on. “Almost intimate.” You scowled before you could help yourself. “She called herself your work wife. Said you spent more time with her than the others, that you were always looking at her and hovering around her.” You shook your head again, trying in vain to dislodge the ill feelings that were blooming in your chest again. 

“And I know you’re a diligent teacher,” you added, looking up at Jack’s concentrated frown. “I know you stare when you don’t mean to, and you have more of a presence than you know-” “This is starting to feel like an attack,” Jack interrupted, soft grin spreading across his tired face. 

You scoffed, hand moving up to cup his cheek, already prickly with the ghost of morning stubble. 

“I love your staring and your presence,” you said, firm enough for him to know you meant it, but soft enough to still be teasing. You kissed him once for good measure, enjoying the humorous glint in his eye when you pulled back. 

“But they’re for you,” he supplied, putting together the threads between your ramblings. “Not her.”

You gave a small nod, gaze dropping again as a wave of guilt washed over you. You didn’t want to be the person movies and books had trained you to hate for so long, the jealous woman who lashed out when someone looked at her man too long. You didn’t want to be possessive, or read into things that weren’t there, or even worse, punish Jack, your dear Jack, just because you couldn’t get a grip on your own insecurities.

“I don’t want to be crazy,” you all but whispered, hand finding the draw string on his scrubs again and spinning the knot idly between your fingers. “But I didn’t like it. She looked at me like decided she had me all figured out. And it felt like she thought she really had a chance with you, and…I don’t know. Maybe I still don’t feel like I deserve you. Maybe I’ve just been missing you more with all the doubles you’ve had to pull. And I know that’s not fair-”

Jack cut you off with one finger held to your lips, shushing you like a child in a way that had your eyes narrowing and looking up to find his. When you did, you found an endearingly soft smile on his lips, looking just as in love with you as he did the day he’d proposed. 

“First off,” he said, speaking like he was instructing a new medical student, using only objective facts, “your feelings are always fair. They’re never crazy, or overblown. They always have their reasons, even if you can’t see them right away. Reactions are what matter, and you’re reacting perfectly normally by telling me this so I can help. Alright?” He looked at you, corner of his lip quirking up when you gave a reluctant nod, but raised his eyebrows, giving you a cocky look that you knew meant he wanted a verbal answer. You huffed dramatically, but gave him what he was looking for. 

“Yeah.”

He gave you a real smile, hand squeezing your upper arm as a reward. 

“Second, you’re not crazy. No one should be talking about me like that at work, even if I was single. And certainly not when I have a foxy wife at home.” His broad hands gripped you as you scoffed out a laugh, dragging you onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around you, smiling smugly at the genuine laugh he’d earned. 

“Don’t you dare laugh at that,” he’d added, poking you gently in the ribs. “No one laughs at my woman, not even my woman.” You grin stupidly wide, arms circling around his neck in a show of surrender. 

“Your woman?” you question, clicking your tongue scoldingly. “Guess I’m not the only possessive one then.” Jack shook his head, his even gaze never leaving yours. “Far from it.” His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face where it had fallen from his manhandling. They lingered on the apple of your cheek, gently holding you as you leaned into the touch.

“I’ll say no to any more doubles for a while,” he said, barely above a whisper. Your brow furrows, but you don’t interrupt as he continues. “I didn’t realize how long it had been since we’ve gotten time for us. I’m sorry about that.” You could see that he meant it, his face serious as a ghost.  You leaned forward, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I think you need the break, if I’m honest. You’ve been stiffer recently, and I’ve been worried about you.”

Jack let out an exaggerated groan, stretching his legs underneath you. 

“God, you’re right,” he sighed, settling a little lower on the couch, and pulling you down with him. 

You grinned. “I’m always right.”

He nodded. “That’s why I married you.”

“And my baking skills,” you added, holding up a finger defiantly.

Jack shrugged, pretending to think about it.

“You’ve developed skills,” he settled on.

You gasped drastically, mustering up as much betrayal as you could in your fatigue, clutching your chest as if he’d wounded you.

“Developed?”

“Yeah. You’ve gotten better.”

You scoffed. “You don’t deserve my muffins.” His voice was low. “Hey now-” “Next time I’ll make a sign, For anyone but Jack,” you pretended to write across the air, voice trembling with laughter at the way his jaw dropped open.

“That has to be a violation of your wedding vows.” You smirked. “No sirree, Jack-ass.” He groaned at the nickname usually reserved for when he was being extra pestering. He slumped his head forward, burying his face in your neck as you continued. “Sickness and health, richer or poorer, but nothing about when your husband doesn’t appreciate homemade muffins made with very resourceful banana preservation tactics.” The side of your neck warmed from the sudden laugh he let out, muscled arms tugging you tighter to his chest.

“Robby will even get to take home the leftovers.” Jack feigned a cry at that, raising his head and giving you the most betrayed look he could.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

You paused, trying to find it in you to continue the bit when he looked at you so sweetly, eyebrows knit together like his best friend stealing the muffins his wife made would wound his heart beyond repair.

You deflated with a small sigh. 

“No,” you admitted, a smile pulling at your lips at how quickly he brightened. “But I might leave a note saying Cheryl doesn’t get any if you don’t get a work divorce.” 

Jack’s eyes widened. “Oh, it was Cheryl?”

You nodded, giving him a confused smile. “That change things?” He hummed in thought. “Doesn’t change them, but it does explain them. She’s new to the Pitt. Doesn’t have a lot of friends, it seems. Don’t remember where she transferred from, but they had different practices, so we’ve been watching her pretty closely to make sure she follows proper procedure.” You nodded slowly, putting together the pieces in your mind. The feeling like he was watching her, the hovering and checking in, it all made sense. Not that you had doubted his intentions for even a moment. Even if she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, Jack was a man with a strict moral code, and adultery lay far outside the scope of his rules. 

“Is it going to be weird working with her? Now that you know everything she said about you?”

Jack frowned. “Nah. I’ll go to HR at the start of next shift, file an anonymous report. They’ll sort things out with her, not make a scene or embarrass her. WIth any luck the whole thing will blow over.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll make sure the work marriage is annulled, sweetheart. Can’t be a workplace bigamist, can I?” 

You sighed wearily. “You can try, but if you open that door, every woman, man, and person in between is going to try to jump your bones, doc.” You gave him an overly concerned look. “You think your old joints can handle all of that at once?”

He had the good grace to look offended at that, giving you only a moment to look pleased with yourself before his hands were on your hips, giving you a great heave to flip you both so you were pinned beneath him on your back. You yelped at the sudden motion, but one of his hands made its way behind you, bracing you to cushion your fall on the already soft couch. His full weight trapped you, pressing you firmly into the cushions.

“What was that you were saying?” he teased, the tip of his nose grazing yours.

You could feel your cheeks warm. 

“If you think I’m able to think at all like this, you don’t know me very well, Jack.”

His lips twitched again, too busy taking in your expression to give a proper reaction of his own.

CHAPTER ONE — NINE ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ completed ❪ 18.9k words ❫ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ act one follows the reluctant tension-filled evolution of jack abbott and a quiet, anxious morgue tech. it begins with exhaustion, mutual annoyance, and an unfortunate first impression. it ends ( temporarily ) in confessions, broken rules, and hands brushing too long by the trauma bay sink and a single earth shattering kiss. best read in descending order for understanding!

⟢ cold and predictable ⟢ cold storage ⟢ a cold shoulder

⟢ too cold to touch ⟢ cold cut ⟢ caught in the cold

⟢ cold hands ⟢ left out in the cold ⟢ let in from the cold

CHAPTER TEN — NINETEEN ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ongoing ❪ tbd words ❫ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ act two follows post-confession. you’ve admitted too much. jack’s heard too much. and yet neither of you knows what to do with the silence that follows. you keep pretending. he keeps showing up. the hospital keeps getting hotter. best read in descending order for understanding!

⟢ heat source morgue notes - 001

⟢ heat on contact morgue notes - 002

⟢ after the heat ⟢ heat in your hands

⟢ the sound of heat morgue notes - 003

⟢ held in heat ⟢ heat flash ( coming soon )

⟢ heat bitten ( coming soon ) morgue notes - 004

⟢ heated words ( coming soon ) morgue notes - 005

⟢ heat of the moment ( coming soon ) morgue notes - 006 morgue notes - 007 morgue notes - 008

˚₊‧ 𐙚 THE APPENDIX ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NIGHT SHIFT — MORGUE NOTES

˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part one ˚₊‧ 𐙚 part two ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part three ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *petnames from jack ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *petnames for jack

It was an early morning. They had a long drive ahead of them to their first extended family function of Y/n’s. Jack buttoned up his polo shirt and did that little head tilt he did when he wanted clarification on something. His upper lip curled. 

“Whose baby shower are we going to again? 

She chuckled as she pulled up the straps on her little blue spring dress. Ornate flowers ran up and down the fabric. She had researched what to wear to a baby shower and figured this was nice enough without overshadowing the mother-to-be.

“My cousin Sandra, remember?”

His brows furrowed, “Are we… close to this cousin?”

She blushed at that. ‘We’. ‘We’ as in her family was his, and his was hers. Granted, he didn’t have much family left these days. But she appreciated him including himself. They had been dating for a little over a year now, and while he had met her parents, he hadn’t met any of her extended family. 

“Not really, but I still wanna support her. Can you zip up my dress, dear?” 

He chuckled a little to himself as he strutted over. His fingers hung on the zipper for a moment.

“I much prefer to zip it down.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, smart ass. We don’t have the time for that.”

“You’re underestimating how quick I can be.” He murmured but obediently zipped her up. He patted her hips, looking up at their reflection in the mirror that hung on her closet. “You look beautiful.”

Her face fully reddened, and she shook her head gently, “You’re crazy.” 

His face contorted as if she had just said something so incredibly offensive. His hands glided from her hips to across her stomach, so she was more in a bear hug as he leaned his head against her shoulder.

“I’m not at all. I’m saying the truth.”

She gave him a pity chuckle and looked down at the floor. He turned to look at her now, not in the reflection. And his real-life gaze was much more intense. 

“Hey… what’s got my pretty girl all like this?”

With a little scoff, she waved it off, trying to seem nonchalant.

“I’m fine. It’s just my cousins will all be there, and they’re… literally models. I mean it. Like one of them is as a profession. And they always bring their boyfriends, so this is the first year that I’m…”

“Bringing someone.” He slowly nodded. “Is there anything I should know, baby?”

She shook her head, “Just that they may be a bit judgy because of the… you know…” she put her face in her hands, worried to admit this.

“The age gap.” He chuckled, “Baby, I already expected this. And when it comes to your cousins being models, who cares? You’re so beautiful. Comparing apples to oranges.”

He planted a kiss on the crook of her neck and squeezed her hips reassuringly. 

Walking up to the little blue house, Jack held the big gift bag, which carried a quilted play mat, and he held her shaky hand with his free one. The door was wide open, so they peeked their heads inside. The sound of chattering and laughter drifted from the backyard. Inside was covered in lacy, frilly decor. It looked as though the baby section of the department store had exploded. With blue bears everywhere, it was safe to say that it was going to be a boy.

At the sound of Jack shutting the door, Sandra walked through the kitchen holding her swollen stomach. Her eyes lit up. 

“Y/N! My goodness, it’s been ages. You look fantastic!”

“I can say the same to you! Congratulations.”

Jack held up the present, “Where can I put this?”

Sandra’s attention drifted, and her mouth stayed ajar as she processed for a moment. She suddenly seemed to remember that it was rude to stare at the handsome older man in front of her. 

“Oh- just on the dining table.” She made up for it with a smile. 

Jack nodded with an awkward no-teeth smile and shifted through the entryway to place the gift on the table overflowing with tissue-papered presents. Sandra watched him, then looked over to her with wide eyes. She mouthed a quick ‘wow’ before going,

“Is this your…?” 

She smiled proudly as Jack started making his way back over. “Boyfriend. Yes. This is my boyfriend, Dr. Jack Abbot.”

He chuckled and scratched his neck as he reunited with her side. 

“Quick braggin, sweetheart.” He put his hand out to Sandra, “Hi. Congratulations.”

Her cousin shook it and looked between the two.

“A doctor! Wow, Jesus. Grandma’s gonna love him, huh?”

And in that moment, she realized that this wasn’t going to be bad at all. This was actually going to be so completely and utterly perfect. For the first time in her entire life, she was going to prove that she was just as beautiful and capable of having a perfect boyfriend as her cousins and relatives. 

After some awkward introductions, Jack felt stiffer than usual. He tried his usual charisma, and it worked for the most part. Her grandma certainly was all over him. But there were a few weirded-out glares and stiff conversations from her older cousins and relatives. They all certainly fit her description. They had a ‘better than you’ air around them that would suffocate Y/n’s welcome until he showed up behind her like a guard dog. Then it would completely dissipate when he’d introduce himself and tell them he was a doctor. They were then left with an overall feeling of suspicious approval. 

As he sipped a beer, he sat with some of her uncles who were closer in his age range, though still older than him. He managed to win them over a little more by discussing his military service. Though he refused to reveal his leg. It wasn’t that he felt embarrassed by it. But the attention was already heavily on him, and he’d rather not take any more of it. Though as they sat in the heat, he was starting to regret the choice of khaki pants. 

The other men talked about the football season starting up in September, and Jack didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. So instead of trying to pretend he cared, he let his eyes drift over to his girl sitting on a patio chair. She had been dragged by her youngest cousins to go play with them across the yard. He watched as she held a one-year-old girl in her lap while talking to a little boy who couldn’t be more than nine. She was a clear favorite, considering the kids didn’t seem to bother any of her other cousins, who were much too busy with their own boyfriends. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled and laughed at the boy describing a scribbled drawing to her, the construction paper crinkled. It was as if she was genuinely interested in whatever nonsense he was probably spouting. 

His heart clenched. It had to be the baby shower theme. It had to be the decorations and the ultrasound pictures and the constant talk from the women in her family. But seeing her with the kids was making him feel something dangerous. He knew he couldn’t have kids. Not at 50. But Jesus, did the sight of her brushing that little girl's hair through her fingers make him want to change his mind. 

Suddenly, she pointed at him, clearly distinguishing him to the kids in front of her. They were talking about him. He broke out of his thoughts and pointed to himself with raised brows. She laughed and waved him over to the other side. Part of him felt guilty for not excusing himself, but he wasn’t about to ignore this for some stupid talk about ESPN hosts. 

He walked over and crossed his arms with a playful arch of his brow. 

“My ears were burning. Now who’s talking about me?”

The little boy grinned and pointed to Y/n. “She was!”

She gasped, “Jax! You asked who he was. You can’t throw me under the bus.”

“Well, who am I then, Jaxon?” Jack asked lightly

He shrugged and knelt down by the patio table. He put his paper down and returned to a set of sprawled-out crayons.  

“An old guy.” He said innocently

Ouch. 

She lightly smacked Jaxon’s shoulder, “Hey. Be nice.”

The kid smirked, and the little girl on her lap gurgled a laugh. Suddenly, another little girl appeared. She had been slowly making her way over, wringing her hands in her dress. It was clear she wanted to be with her cousin, but was also hesitant about the older man there. Y/n waved her over. 

“Hi, Janie.” She said in a much softer voice. A much different voice than she had with Jaxon.

“Hi.” 

“Let me do introductions.” She said, looking between everyone, “This is Jaxon, Janie, and their little sister Judy.” 

Jack smiled, “A lot of J names around her.” 

Janie nodded and looked down at the floor. Jack decided the best course of action was to squat down and sit by the patio table as well. Though his good knee let out a slight crack as he did so. Janie looked at him, suspicious, but didn’t run away.

“Well… It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Jack.”

Jaxon looked up from his paper with wide eyes, “YOU HAVE A J NAME TOO.”

“That’s right.” He nodded and snuck a look at the Transformer that the boy was drawing, “Look, I’m new here. So how about we make a J name pact?”

Jaxon’s face contorted, “What’s a pact?”

Y/n chuckled as she grabbed a small bowl of Cheerios to let Janie snack on in her lap. 

“A pact is like a promise.” 

Jack nodded, “Like a promise. That us J names have each other’s backs, alright? I need some protection. People watching my six.” He pointed to Janie, “You included. I need all the help I can get.”

Janie giggled at the idea of her protecting him. “I can’t help. I’m too little.”

“Sure, you can. You’re the toughest person here.” 

The kids giggled, and Y/n smiled at the interaction. She didn’t know Jack was so good with kids. She knew he dealt with them at work time to time, but she had never witnessed him in action. And he was somehow charming her little cousins, who usually didn’t trust too easily. 

Judy cooed and reached her hands out, and Jack gave her a little side eye. 

“She’s a close second.”

Soon, the kids were all over him. He hadn’t realized that his girlfriend was basically the glorified babysitter at these events until now. Jaxon was clinging to his good leg (thankfully). And Janie was bossing them around on how to play this game, which Jack was having a hard time telling what the exact rules were. 

Y/n sat busied with doting on little Judy. She watched Jack with a heart so full, knowing Jack was probably being drained a bit by the kids. Though he was doing the exact same to them, and their mothers would be thankful once they were napping on the car ride home. 

Her aunt called the kids to eat some real food, and they begrudgingly started to calm down. Jack ruffled Jax’s head.

“Go eat. You need protein to beat the lava monster.” 

With that totally sound logic, the kids practically booked it to grab a plate from their mom. And Jack limped back to his girl and sat next to her, Judy still in her lap. He winced and rubbed at the back of his prosthetic knee where skin met silicone. 

She reached over and rubbed his shoulder, “Your leg bothering you?”

He shook his head in a ‘so-so’ manner, not wanting to worry her. 

“It’s just sweaty, and when it sweats, it starts to chafe.” He grimaced a bit. “Just need to sit down for a bit.”

She laughed at that, “I’m sorry. My cousins are like that once they’re comfortable with someone… Or once they find a target that’ll play with them.”

Jack shook his head and looked down at Judy, who was biting her fist. He gently reached over and pinched the little rolls of her doughy arms. 

“Don’t apologize. They’re great.” He looked down and made an overly excited face at Judy, making the baby squeal with laughter. Oh, that sound was like the bells of heaven ringing. “You’re great, huh?”

She bounced the baby on her knee, making her laugh more. “You wanna hold her?”

He didn’t drop his face, keeping it happy looking to entertain Judy, “Only if she wants to.” 

Well, in convenient timing, the baby reached out and made grabby hands at Jack. 

“I think she wants to.” She smiled and handed Jack the baby.

He made a little groan as he wrapped his hands around her tummy and quickly positioned the almost toddler onto his lap. Judy clapped her hands and looked around for approval. Y/n quickly started clapping and letting out a little ‘Yay!’

The baby let out a huff, and Jack looked down at her. 

“Yeah. Long day, huh?” 

That made the both of them laugh. Jack casually squeezed her little doughy arms and reached over to grab the small bowl of puff snacks on the table. He handed it to her, and Judy shrieked excitedly. Jack smiled, proud of himself for making his girlfriend’s little cousins happy. 

“This is so so dangerous, sweetheart.” He murmured.

She smirked a little knowingly, “How so?”

“We’re too good at this.” He shook his head with a nervous smile, “Makes me think of things.”

Her eyes widened despite having put two and two together. The idea of kids was something they didn’t talk about much, but the general idea was that he was too old, and she liked her independence. She had always been that way. She liked being able to put herself first, and if she became a mother…she could never be selfish ever again. But the idea of kids with HIM? With Jack Abbot? For some reason, that was a lot more attractive. And more than attractive… it felt doable. 

She shook off the thought and smiled with a blushing face. 

“Yeah… Me too.” She admitted, watching Judy shove little star puffs into her mouth. “How about we revisit this when we’re…” She looked around at all the baby shower decorations. The little clothes and footie pajamas hanging around. The ultrasound pictures. The cutesy stuffed animals. “... more immune to propaganda.”

Jack chuckled, looking around himself. “I completely agree.”

A little later into the evening, it was getting close to leaving time, and all the adults sat at a long picnic table outside. The heat at least seemed to be settling down as the high noon sun set a little more. She and Jack had played a few of the baby shower games. Watched Sandra open presents with her beau. And did their best to get some time away from the little cousins. 

One of her cousins squeezed her boyfriend’s hand, directing her half-lidded eyes to Y/n. “So… how did you meet Jack?” 

She smiled, unfazed, “Our mutual friend, Dana, set us up.”

Jack scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah. Basically, a blind date, and I nearly passed out because Dana had failed to mention how freaking gorgeous you are.”

“Oh shut up.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, taking a sip of her drink.

“It’s true!” 

Her aunt piped up and pointed between the two of them, “And you two aren’t bothered by the… well, by the age gap? I feel like I’d have nothing in common with someone like that.”

It was a bit of a sting, but the two of them were used to it. 

She shrugged. 

“We’re not really bothered. And it’s not like I’ve ever been overly trendy or anything. Honestly, I haven’t seen a big difference other than he’s more mature than any man my age.” At that, her older cousins looked at each other. It wasn’t meant to be a dig, but if the shoe fits. 

Her aunt let out a little, “Huh,” and leaned back in her chair. 

Suddenly, her grandma tapped the table, “Well, that just means you gotta get started on the grandbabies right away!”

Both her and Jack choked on their drinks.

“GRANDMA!” She laughed in shock as the rest of the table died in laughter, “Look, we’re not even married yet. Let that wait for just a bit more, okay?”

Under the table, she felt Jack reach down and squeeze her thigh. His grip a mix of fabric and skin. She flushed and bit her lip through her smile, trying to seem totally cool. Jack had been getting on her about getting married for the past month, so she knew she was in for the best kind of trouble when she got home. 

Sandra rubbed her stomach, “Well, I wish you guys luck with everything. I’m sure whatever you decide will be best. Clearly, you’ve brought home a big catch.”

The table laughed again, and Jack raised his hands, waving them off.

“No, no… If anything, I’m the lucky one. Every day I wake up, and I can’t believe that a woman like your Y/n is with a guy like me.” 

At that, all the girls swooned. The cousins. The aunts. They were all definitely won over by the handsome Dr. Jack Abbot. And she felt so completely satisfied. 

“Thank you. You’re crazy, baby.” She chuckled and leaned over to give him a quick peck. 

The kids watching from the end of the table let out a ‘EWWWWW’ and she shook her head with a laugh. Jack pointed to them.

“Hey, the J Name Pact. Remember?”