The Pitt acted like the sea. 

Busy hours and waning slow periods were the waves. Patients, nurses, and doctors walked as though they were fish, constantly swimming through the hoards of schools and catastrophes, not needing to keep their head above water because that's exactly where they thrived. They found purpose in bobbing and floating and flicking their tails to get from one room to another. It had its obstacles, seaweed hoards of poles and monitors and gurneys, but when night came, the Pitt settled into lapping motions instead of crashing roars. 

However, the calmer waters meant it was primed for the bigger fish to swim cleanly, jaws chomping at whoever dared to get in their current. 

Known to all, the Pitt had a few big fish to worry about. Victoria knew to steer clear of her mother, Dr. Shamsi, and her biting words. When Garcia got called down, Dennis turned heel and hid in triage (safety in numbers). Even Robby, the very top of the pecking order in the emergency department, vanished when he caught the hint of Gloria coming down the elevator. 

Yet, like all oceans, some fish weren't lucky enough to swim away fast enough. In all instances, everyone never wanted to get caught by the PTMC's very own great white: Brendon Park. 

"Look alive, Santos, we got an incoming," Jack stated as he passed the sleepy-looking R2, fresh from pulling the first half of her second night rotation. 

Trinity blinked wearily before pushing up from the table. She'd been seated during a lull in waves that seemed to always happen between the hours of 1 and 3 am. Jack had warned that things got weird after the sun went down, but most she'd seen was a puking toddler and a man who came in complaining of sleep issues. 

"What do we have?" she asked after finding a place next to the older attending. "And please tell me it's interesting, cause so far I haven't seen the weirdest or wildest cases come through. I'd hate to see that your little pep talk is full of errors." 

Jack barked out a laugh. "Trust me; it only gets weirder from here." 

"Don't jinx us, please," Ellis joined in, stopping on Jack's unoccupied side. 

"Those don't exist!" Shen called out as he rounded a corner before disappearing back into a room. 

Trinity's jaw popped as she yawned. "I need something fast paced or I'm going to fall asleep standing up." 

"We can always have you organize the third storage room. I don't think it's been redone since I started here," Jack mentioned. 

"So, like, way back in the medieval era?" 

Parker raised her eyebrows and smirked at the brunette. "Ooo-hoo-hoo, Abbot you set yourself up for that one." 

Jack rolled his eyes. "Try the third dynasty. Pretty sure I saw a rat go in there once and it never left." 

"I'll take standing up, thank you." 

"Incoming trauma goes straight into room 1," Lena announced. 

The sliding doors to the ambulance bay brought a gust of cool wind before offering a patient and two paramedics to the small group of doctors. On the gurney laid a man in his thirties whose face had gone ashen, eyes not even visible. 

"We got a thirty-two-year old male. Partial traumatic amputation, left lower extremity at the mid femur. Clean cut considering he was run over by roadside milling equipment approximately twenty-two minutes ago. Significant blood loss on scene," one of the paramedics said once they got within ear range. "Detached extremity is here. Packaged separately and wrapped in saline gauze, double bagged, transported on ice but not in direct contact." 

Trinity noted the bag that sat near the patient's remaining foot. It reminded her of one of those goldfish bags you got for winning a fair game. 

Jack stepped forward and grabbed the side of the gurney, helping roll the man straight into Trauma Room 1. Behind him, he heard the normal sounds of gloves snapping on before both Trinity and Parker joined him. 

"On my count," he ordered. "One, two, three—" He grunted under the weight of the man as they slid him over onto the bed. 

"The tourniquet was applied high and tight to the left thigh around 7 minutes after the accent. One CAT failed, second CAT secured on the way over. Hemorrhage controlled after the second application," the second paramedic stated while he began to wheel the gurney away. 

Jack looked over the man. "What's his pressure?" 

"Last manual was eighty-four over fifty. Heart rate one-forty-eight. Respiratory thirty-two. Sp-Oxygen ninety-four percent on fifteen liters non-rebreather. GCS fourteen. Lost consciousness on the way over." 

"Fluids?" 

"Minimal crystalloids. Two-fifty LR. We started whole blood—one unit in progress. One gram TXA given over ten minutes." 

Jack smiled and nodded. "Excellent." 

Trinity leaned over the man with her stethoscope already off and bell pressing into his chest. "Airway's intact. Breath sounds equal bilaterally." 

"Femoral pulse right side weak," Parker called out, two fingers pressed into the man's right upper thigh before moving up to his wrist. "Radial's thready." 

"Pressure's seventy-eight over forty-six," Mateo called out near the head of the bed. 

"He's hemorrhagic until proven otherwise," Jack breathed, hands moving to gently pull back what was left of the man's pant legs. "Let's cut the tourniquet down enough for me to visualize." 

"Dr. Abbot, you think they'd just cauterize the leg back in your day?" Trinity bit with a smirk. 

"Nah," he argued, "they'd just wrap it and pray infection didn't set in before harvest." 

Parker snipped slowly at the tourniquet, and blood instantly welled through the mess of flesh and bone. 

"Back up and tighten it," Jack said, halting Parker from going any further. "That's arterial, and can someone page ortho? This looks like it'd be right up their alley." 

"Please tell me Park's not on shift tonight," Trinity muttered, already walking over to the red phone mounted on the wall. 

"Well, if you hear the Jaws theme song when they put you on hold, you'll know." 

While Trinity talked with upstairs, Jack and Parker did their best to pack the stump as much as possible, combat gauze soaking up red as fast as they put it on. 

It couldn't have been more than five minutes later when the hiss of the trauma room's doors filled the air, the automatic sensor holding long enough for whoever to slip through. Jack's heart beat wildly as he held the gauze, trying not to think about his own experience of being on the receiving end of the painful pressure. 

"What do you have for me, Abbot?" 

If the room could have groaned, it would have caused ripples by the sheer sound, because, of course, Brendon Park just had to be the one to swim through. Trinity glanced up at him, eyes tracking the way he immediately hovered over their work like a shark coasting around its prey. 

"Partial traumatic amputation to his left leg. Whatever machine he got under cut clean through his femur. Leg was bagged on site, and blood flow is slightly waning under the gauze and consistent pressure." 

Park didn't seem all that impressed, and his eye brow raised when he spotted the fair-fish bag full of amputated leg sitting on a tray to the side. He narrow eyed the way Jack's hands almost wrapped completely around the stump, gloves speckled with blood that managed to seep through. 

"You're going to damage the vessels if you hold on that hard," he muttered. "Thought you attendings knew better." 

Jack fought the urge to roll his eyes. "The pressure is what's keeping this man from bleeding out. But by all means, I can lighten up if you want to play Legos and 'click the leg back in place' on a dead body." 

"You're the ones who paged me," he bit, teeth chomping around the word. "Unfortunately we can't all be surgeons, or maybe this ER would know how to perfectly pack a partial traumatic amputation." 

"Now, now, let's play nice, Park," a new voice joined over the hiss of the trauma doors. "Without the ER, we wouldn't be standing here now would we?" 

Now, Jack's heart beat wildly for a different reason. In a small glance, his eyes settled on the familiar figure of the Pitt's stand-in night shift Orthopedic Surgeon when Walsh had the shift off. 

"Oh, boy," Parker whispered beside him. She nudged Trinity slightly, body twisting so she could be near the R2's ear. "You asked for wild, and, well, it's about to get wild." 

Trinity barely processed her words as she fixated on the woman who just walked in. She couldn't note how put together she looked with her hair tucked neatly, gray roots peaking through a very expensive looking hair dye. Her white coat was crisp, and Trinity could only guess that it had been tailored with the way it hugged perfectly at her shoulders and waist. If she let herself, Trinity would be drooling, yet, the glimmer of a pair of rings that could probably pay off her entire student debt held her back from sputtering out some illy planned pick-up line. 

"Nice of you to join us," Park gritted out, clearly not happy with the new addition. "But I had this handled. 

You hummed lowly while you looked over the leg yourself and the hands around it. "Sure you did if by having it handled you meant berating Dr. Abbot and his more than capable team." 

"His pressure is way off, and if he keeps it up, the leg isn't going to be able to attach back perfectl—" 

"Aht, aht, aht," you tutted like talking to a child. "You're done talking, because obviously you can't tell the right amount of pressure from the wrong." 

You stepped closer to the bed and leaned over the railing, never hovering but making sure your presence was noted. 

"If you'd taken a breath and took the chance to actually look at the patient instead of wondering if he could be another gold start to your chart," you stated calmly, "you'd find that Dr. Abbot is currently keeping the femoral artery at around—" You leaned in closer to see just how tightly Jack's fingers held the gauze in place. "—250 to 300 mmHgs of the standard pressure needed." 

Jack had to keep himself from blushing under your praise and keep concentrating on, just as you said, the needed standard pressure. He guessed that Park would back off, however, the bigger man wasn't one to ever give up the last word. 

"No offense—" 

"None taken," you slyly interrupted. 

Park huffed, visibly irritated the more he stood there. "But clearly, they should have paged me the moment this man was wheeled in instead of trying to play hero and cut off the bleeding." He crossed his arms and puffed his chest. "They're not surgeons; they're—" 

You held up a hand. "I'll stop you right there, Brendon. Yes, they might not have the specialty experience we both have, but they are more than equipped and competent to handle a partial traumatic amputation." Your lip crinkled in a small sneer. "Dr. Abbot is also more knowledgeable about this type of injury than the both of us, or do I have to remind you that he's lived through something like this." 

Elation bloomed in the pit of your stomach as you watched Park swallow thickly, but you were far from done. 

"And, as someone who volunteers as a S.W.A.T medic after spending countless hours down here, Dr. Abbot has undergone thousands of hours of medical, tactical, and physical training. His muscles are earned through hard work, unlike the ones you like to boast on your Instagram after doing a few sit ups and curls to increase the blood flow of your arms that are more for aesthetics than actual strength." 

Jack was hard.

He was so incredibly hard, cock already pushing against the front of his scrub pants. He just prayed that Parker and Trinity would continue looking at you with stars in their eyes and not down at his . . . predicament. 

Without moving, you held out your hand, palm up towards the ceiling. "Can someone hand me the case tablet? I'm taking over this, and I will personally be scrubbing in myself." 

Park blanched at that, body finally squirming under your unwavering eyes. "You can't—" 

"I can't . . . what, exactly? Take over a case while I am currently your superior as the chief orthopedic attending on call?" you shot back while your fingers curled around the tablet Mateo handed over. "Because that's exactly what I'm doing." You glanced down at the screen before looking back up into Park's dark, blue eyes. “You're more than welcome to observe, Dr. Park, but please, never insult me or any of PTMC's doctors ever again, or I will make sure that you're stuck wrapping soft tissue sprains for months." 

You turned around with a smile on your face, demeanor completely the opposite of what you'd just shown. "Thank you three for making sure this man didn't bleed out on the spot. We'll prep an operating theater and get him transferred up shortly. Best of luck for the rest of the night." 

Your steps were light as you walked away, however you couldn't help but let out an Hoo-Ahh! over your shoulder. 

Jack watched in deep satisfaction that Park didn't even attempt to say anything else, choosing to walk away while he still held the ability to operate in the future. The mechanical doors hissed and closed off the room from the rest of the Pitt. 

Only the monitors kept beeping continually, filling the otherwise silent room. Jack tilted his head down and closed his eyes while he took a deep breath. 

After a moment, Trinity was the first to speak. "Who the fuck was that? I think my world's been rocked." 

Jack looked back up, hazel eyes trained in the direction that you disappeared off into. He swallowed the pooling saliva down in one gulp before answering. "My wife." 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The surgical cap tied tightly around your forehead itched, hair underneath poking and being pulled an at odd angle as a result of your haste to put it on. Park had overstepped, and you needed to show him that he wasn't the biggest fish in the Pitt's ocean, because that title belonged to you. 

Jack would probably laugh at it all later due to your enjoyment of underwater documentaries and fascination with orcas, especially with how they hunted and preyed upon sharks. You'd seen the way he had tried to not look at you for very long down in the trauma room. The thought of him being embarrassed quickly passed through your mind before you shook your head. 

He was never one to be ashamed of being your husband, often boasting at the fact that he put a ring on your finger before anyone else could. He loved you fierce and hard but also soft and sweet, so him looking away had to be because he was focused on making sure the man didn't bleed out before you could get his leg put back together with ease. 

The hall to the surgical room was empty as you stripped from your gown and gloves and pushed them down into the nearest hazard bin. Your footsteps echoed while you walked toward the elevator, wanting to go back down and at least give Parker and Dr. Santos the good news. However, the moment you passed by one of the empty recovery rooms, a hand reached out, grabbed hold of your arm and tugged you in. 

"What the fuck!" you shouted, voice coming out in a screech. 

To your right, the door shut, and the motion-sensor lights flickered on, revealing the person who had yanked you. You sighed in relief. 

"Hi," Jack whispered, pinning you to the wall, chest pressed against yours. 

"Jack, what the hell are you doing up here?" you hissed. "I always come down to give you the update." 

He said nothing and tucked his face into your neck. His lips lightly grazed your pulse point before his tongue peeked out and ran hotly along your jaw. Your hands instantly flew up and sunk deep into his greying curls. 

"Jack?" you questioned again. "Wha-what are you doing?" 

"Just loving on my wife," he muttered, teeth now gently nipping at your skin. "Can't a husband do that?" 

You barked out a laugh that quickly turned into a moan as he sucked harshly. "I mean, he can. But normally he doesn't until after we get home." 

Jack's neediness sent questions washing through your body as he slotted his thick thigh between your legs. Another moan punched out at the feeling, your scrub material bunching in delicious pressure against your heat. 

"Jack," you breathily sighed. "Baby, we have work; we can wait and pick this up later." 

"Can't," he bit, lips and teeth still attacking whatever inch of your neck he could reach. "Can't wait. Been hard since you left." 

"Since I left?" you echoed, mind spinning until it clicked. "Wait, Jack—" 

He hummed in an answer. 

"Don't tell me you got hard because I told off Park in the ER." 

Jack stilled against you and sighed heavily. "Is it really surprising that I'm turned on because my incredibly hot wife knocked asshole Park the Shark down a couple of pegs while simultaneously singing my praises?" 

He pulled back enough that your eyes met his, the hazel hues already swimming with heat. Internally, you battled the pros and cons of having letting Jack continue, but obviously the pros definitely outweighed the cons, and he noticed the moment all fight drained out of you. 

"Fine," you gave in, "but you need to hurry before either you or I get paged, and you're left with blue balls for another four hours." 

"Hurry is my middle name," he quipped, facing going back in to mauling your neck. 

You rolled your eyes. "No it's Waynefucking jeez.," the comeback dying into a moan half-way up your throat. 

Jack's right hand rested against the length of your throat while his left danced along the waistline of your pants, fingers teasingly dipping below and toying with the hem of your underwear. He drew another gasp from your lips when he pushed his thigh up higher, the muscle nesting against your core. Taking your open mouth to his advantage, his hot, slick tongue dipped deep between your teeth and licked around. His chest rumbled in a moan at the taste of you. 

While he kept your mouth distracted, his hand went further down your underwear, knuckles brushing against your navel until his fingertips found exactly what they were looking for. He couldn't help but groan at the feeling of your wet, sticky arousal already pooling between your folds. 

"You're already so fucking wet. How long have you been like this, sweetheart?" he panted after pulling back. "Did you like putting big ole Park in his place while your husband watched? Cause I enjoyed every minute of it." 

To show his enjoyment, Jack thrusted up against your stomach, his hardness evident through his own pants. Your eyes widened at the size of his bulge, cunt clenching with the thought of him putting it right into you. You whimpered loudly into the air, head tilted back to rest against the wall. 

His pointer finger circled around your throbbing clit in soft, minuscule motions and drew pleasured breaths from your lungs. When you started rocking back and forth, he reached a bit lower before sinking two fingers into your sopping, fluttering hole. The thick and sudden intrusion had you whining. 

"Jack! Ooh-ohh-oooohhh," you sputtered as the tips of both fingers found your sweet spot with experience swiftness. Stars dotted your vision, and your stomach and thighs tightened. "Feels good shiittt." 

"Yeah?" Jack asked as his hips continued thrusting up into your center, the band in his gut drawing tighter. He could practically feel the clenching of your cunt around his throbbing length when you tightened around his fingers. "You close, sweetheart?" 

You nodded. "C-close. So, so, so, so close; you're gonna make me cum." 

Your words had Jack whimpering against your neck, eyes pinching closed to not blow his load prematurely. He needed to make you cum before even thinking of letting go himself. 

He withdrew his hand in order to push your scrubs and underwear down, giving him more room to thrust his fingers upward while thumbing at your clit. Without the extra layer, your slick arousal dripped down his hand and spotted his dark scrubs. 

"There we goooo," he drew out, words raspy between his gasps. "Soaking my hand and my pants, sweetheart." 

You were getting close, and your hips canted harder to meet his fingers. Your inner thighs clenched around his hand, and a high-pitched whine squeezed between your teeth. 

"I'm gonna cum!" you keened. "Gonna-gonna-shitfuckfuckfuckfuck! Jack!" 

Your stomach flipped as your walls clamped down tightly around Jack's fingers. To draw out your high, he continued to circle your bundle of nerves and shallowly push in his fingers. He, however, didn't stop grinding against you, and while you were focused on feeling every hot dip of pleasure from climax, Jack grunted twice before his hips stilled and his cum spilled from his leaking tip into his boxers, soaking though to stain his scrubs. 

You sighed dreamily and held Jack's wrist to stop his motions, your core becoming too sensitive for him to continue. Your chest heaved against Jack's, and he leaned back into languidly kiss at your mouth. 

"Never," you managed to get out between kisses. "Never thought my husband would have a competency kink. Learn something new every day." 

"Like I said: it was hot," he said. 

You smirked when he finally met his eyes. "Hot enough to make you cum in your pants, I guess. What are your doctors going to think when you go back down in different color scrubs than you had on before?" 

Jack laughed loudly. "I think Trinity will be too distracted because you are definitely her type, and it won't be the worst thing Ellis has ever seen." 

Heat flooded your cheeks at the remembering of the one time Parker caught you and Jack actually fucking in an on call room. She teased the two of you for months after you promised to help her out with getting a shot at a surgical fellowship. 

Once your pants were back in place, you smooshed close back into Jack's chest, cheek squished against his pec while his hands rubbed up and down your back in slow motions. Aftercare in a recovery room could never be the same as snuggles in bed, but Jack would be damned if he let you go without a little post-coital hugging and kissing.

You had just gotten his lips back on yours when the pager at his side buzzed to life. He pulled back with a groan.

"Duty calls."

"Duty always has the worst timing," you grumbled. "See you in four hours and then round two at home?"

Jack smirked and tapped the side of your ass. "Maybe I'll make sure Park comes back down so you can yell at him again."

You snorted, hand coming up to slap at your nose. "Your foreplay preferences are so weird. Maybe I should yell at you. I think you'd like that, Dr. Abbot."

With that, you slipped out the door and back into the empty hallway, leaving Jack in yet another blushy mess and length twitching at the thought of you talking down at him like you did for Park.

Round two was indeed going to be interesting.

“We aren’t anything Javadi, thank you.” Victoria smiles awkwardly and takes the opportunity to leave the conversation while she can,

Surely it was an accident. There was no way that Jack or you would forget to invite Robby to your fellowship celebration party. Robby still credits himself as a big reason you were able to get into the fellowship in the first place, despite Jack essentially stealing you from him. He pulls his phone out to quickly ask him about it.

Were you going to tell me about the party you’re hosting for her?

Dana passes by as he hits send,

“Did you know about that party Jack was throwing tonight?” he asks her as he leans onto the desk,

“Yeah, I just didn’t think you would wanna go.” Dana says mindlessly as she shuffles through the papers on her desk. She looks up to see Robby's bitter smile,

“Don’t get any bright ideas, Robinavitch. That girl worked hard and you aren’t going to ruin her party just because you’re upset. Either you show up tonight with a smile on your face or you don’t come at all.” Dana finds the form she was looking for and walks away.

Robby can’t picture showing up tonight and spending most of the night standing on the sidelines while Jack parades you around. He’ll feel ridiculous knowing Jack was the one whose name was signed on your letter and not his. Robby’s phone buzzes, snapping him out of his thoughts.

I didn’t think you would wanna go.

Change of plans, he was going to show up tonight.

⋆˚౨ৎ ⋆.˚

Robby shows up a little later than expected. It was nearing 9 PM but he was hoping a bottle of champagne would make up for it. He knocks on the door, standing awkwardly at the doorstep. He can hear music coming from the backyard and the occasional laughter. The door swings open to reveal you in a small pink dress. Your eyes widen at the sight of Robby,

“Robby! What are you doing here?” he can tell you’re already a little drunk from the red flush in your cheeks and slightly messy hair,

“I’m here to congratulate you.” Robby says, holding up the bottle towards you. You grab it from his hands,

“Thank you.” you mutter,

“Hey, you made it!” Dana says, approaching from behind. She puts her hands on your shoulders and gives him a warning glare as he welcomes himself in. You turn around to see Dana giving you a reassuring smile.

There’s a big ‘Congrats!’ banner hung up in Jack’s kitchen, along with balloons on the floor and some stuck on the roof,

“Help yourself to some food and drinks are in the fridge.” you tell him, stumbling around to open the fridge. Robby is quick to grab you and stabilize you,

“Woah, hey. You’ve had a lot already, huh?” he gives you that same familiar condescending smile. You feel your cheeks getting warmer as you regain balance,

“Hey, didn’t think you were gonna make it.” Jack says from behind Robby. He gives Robby a pat on the back as you hand him a beer,

“Change of plans.” He cracks open the can, walking outside to join the rest of the party. You notice Victoria’s eyes widen from afar in surprise as he joins the rest of the residents and nurses,

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was coming tonight.” Jack whispers in your ear. You give Jack a kiss on the cheek,

“It’s okay, it’ll be fine.” you grab another drink from the fridge.

⋆˚౨ৎ ⋆.˚

To say you’re freaking out is an understatement. From the second Robby walked in, it seemed like you only got drunker from there,

“Cheers to PTMC’s future attending neurologist!” Trinity yells out as everyone stands with a small plastic shot glass. Robby and Jack stand together watching from afar as you swing the cup back. Jack smirks at the face you make as the liquor burns the back of your throat. Robby looks over and sees Jack’s expression,

“You gonna let her work tomorrow with a hangover?” Robby asks,

“She’s a big girl, she can handle it.” Jack says, keeping his eyes on you. Robby shakes his head laughing dryly, taking a sip from his drink,

“Good luck with that, her work gets sloppy when she’s hungover.” Jack can sense Robby’s attempts at getting under his skin. Even after all this time, Robby is still trying to find an opportunity to get you back,

“Like I said, she can handle it.” Jack says flatly.

“Actually, do you wanna know why I think she can handle it?” Jack pauses and turns towards Robby,

“It's because I trust her. I also respect her and I’m not afraid to show that.”

“The only reason you know that is because you went and changed her shifts without asking me.” Robby quickly responds.

The pair notice your attention shifting to them as they talk in the corner. You aren’t able to make out their words but quickly forget about the sight when Mel pulls you for a picture.

“I didn’t need to ask. I’m also an attending in case you forgot.” Robby laughs.

“You won, Jack, is that what you wanna hear?” Robby excuses himself and walks away back into the kitchen towards the fridge.

In Jack’s eyes, it was never about ‘winning’. It had always been about treating you right— no more standing by, watching Robby speak to you however he wants. Winning was the last thing on Jack’s mind especially after you had confessed that you were previously sleeping with Robby. His goal has always been to love you fully and with as much support as he could provide.

As Robby grabs another drink from the fridge, he hears you stumbling towards the washroom. You look like a newborn deer trying to learn to walk for the first time. Robby follows as you slowly make your way down a hallway. You trip and nearly fall until Robby catches you,

“I got you.” he says lifting you back up,

“Thank you.” you try to keep yourself upright and stand as far away from him as possible— It’s not much given, it's a tight hallway. He stares as you adjust your dress. Your hair is done differently than how it is at work and he also notices that you wear a different perfume now. You did your makeup a little differently too and notices a small tattoo possibly? It’s almost frustrating to him how recognizable you were yet different you had become. You were no longer the same compliant, docile resident he trained and he hated it,

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Robby says quietly. He hesitates for a second,

“I’ve missed you.” It comes out awkwardly, like it was something he repeated in his head but had no intention of saying out loud,

“Thank you.” you mumble.

Robby stands close to you but keeps his hands behind his back— if he could, his hands would be on your cheeks, pulling you in slowly. Instead, Robby leans closer and closer to your lips. He doesn’t plan on kissing you, but hopes you’ll kiss him first. He wants to see that you still need him and prove that Jack isn’t giving you what he thinks you need.

You step back a few steps before hitting the wall and stumbling again. Robby grabs your arms again, lifting you up,

“Looks like you still need me.” Robby mumbles jokingly. Though it comes off much more condescending than he usually intends,

“I don’t need you anymore, Robby,” you say, shoving his chest as hard as you can. He stumbles back in surprise, hitting the other side of the hallway wall,

“It was just a joke.” Robby laughs at your reaction.

Robby loved watching you get riled up at him. Any indication that you needed validation from him, he was taking from you. He was willing to keep pushing until he decided to give it to you,

“Yeah, well it didn’t feel like it.” you felt anger bubbling in your chest the longer you looked at his stupid, ego filled smile.

Meanwhile, Jack had been searching all over outside for you. You weren’t with Trinity or Samira or any of the residents around— Dana started helping search for you at some point. As he starts searching inside, he hears Robby’s laugh first then your voice,

“I haven’t needed you for a long time now. I didn’t need you to get into my fellowship.” it comes out more obviously irritated this time and Robby smiles.

Jack knows it’s wrong to be eavesdropping. He trusts you wholeheartedly but he doesn’t trust Robby and whatever ulterior motive he might have. He stands close by around a corner. Jack swears to himself that he’ll give it a minute before he grabs you. He can’t help but be curious to know where this might go,

“Right, and now you need Jack.” Robby retorts,

“That’s different.”

“How so? You went from one attending to the other. Does that make it any different” Robby scoffs,

“He isn’t a manipulative asshole for one.” Jack almost lets out a laugh as he overhears you,

“Manipulative asshole?” Robby repeats laughing harder this time,

“I made you into one of the best residents, and an even better neuro fellowship candidate. Don’t forget that when you come crawling back to me.” That's Jack’s cue to step in. He rounds the corner to see Robby towering over you,

“Hey, there you are. Dana brought a cake for you.” You turn to look at Jack. He senses a feeling of relief from you and irritation from Robby. Jack puts his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside but not without glaring right at Robby.

Sat between Samira and Mel, you cut the small cake into slices and pass them out. As you pass another plate around,

“This feels like a birthday party.” Trinity says,

“Cakes are meant for celebrations, what’s wrong with that?” Dana says, slapping her arm jokingly.

A pop! is heard from the corner as Princess holds another open bottle of champagne; it’s the bottle Robby brought, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. In the corner of your eye, you notice Robby standing by the backyard door. He stands with his body half inside and half outside, as if he’s teetering on staying. Jack thinks he’s overstayed his welcome and Robby agrees since the next time you look over, he’s already gone.

⋆˚౨ৎ ⋆.˚

Jack sits beside you as he pulls the blanket over top. He smiles at the sight of you drunkenly looking up at him. Jack can’t help but notice a small shift in your mood as he watches your smile turn into a pensive expression. He doesn’t rush you to confess what’s on your mind, he know it’ll come out when you’re ready,

“What were you and Robby talking about earlier?” Jack gives you an uncomfortable smile. He knew the conversation was coming, he just thought it would be tomorrow morning over breakfast and not while you were drunk and half awake. He takes a deep breath,

“Nothing really, I think he just misses you and doesn’t know how to talk about it.” there’s a pause,

“What were you and Robby talking about? Earlier by the bathroom.” you flash a similar uncomfortable smile to Jack’s question,

“You heard that?”

“I was looking for you and I might’ve heard a bit.” The pitch of Jack’s voice goes higher towards the end of his sentence. You ponder Jack’s thoughts for a second,

“I don’t know if he misses me. I think he might just miss controlling me— having control over something really,” you say.

Jack walks to the other side of the bed, removing his leg and climbing in beside you. He pulls you close until your head is on his chest,

“You’re not gonna leave me once I’m at Westbridge, right?” you whisper,

“Why do you ask?” Jack knows exactly why you’re asking. He knows Robby planted the idea in your head earlier and you haven’t been able to shake it since,

“No reason.” you mumble. Jack doesn’t press on it.

“I’m not leaving. I fully expect you to come back and boss us around when we call neuro down. Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you though.” The small laugh from you makes Jack’s chest swell.

The bedroom goes quiet and is soon filled with your soft snores. Jack lays wide awake, replaying the conversation he overheard between you and Robby. The more Jack thinks about it, he doesn’t entirely agree with what you just said about Robby. Jack thinks the complete opposite of what you said. Yes, Robby lacks control over things in his life, but he’s more frustrated that he can’t control who you fall in love with. Robby can’t make you love him and he hates that so much that he’ll take whatever you give him.

Jack feels himself spiraling more and more until your phone dings. He thinks it’s just Santos sending you pictures from tonight until another one goes off shortly after. He grabs your phone in hopes of turning it silent but sees it’s a text message from Robby.

I didn’t get a chance to say it but congratulations.

I’m proud of you. More than you’ll ever know.

Jack stares at the phone for a second. There’s no other messages, no previous conversation. He swipes delete on the conversation and watches it disappear from your text history.

He feels you shuffle around and puts your phone down,

“Who’s that?” you mumble half awake,

“Just Santos. Don’t worry.” Jack kisses the top of your head as you fall back asleep.