Mongoose Magazine

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"Rue, what are you doing here?"

"I'd ask you the same thing, silly girl"

"I heard you calling my name"

"That wasn't me."

"I've missed you"

"I never left your side"

"Are you scared?"

"Not in the way you'd expect, no"

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"Severe head trauma and laceration, possible pelvic fracture, left femur deformity, BP 88 over 52, heart rate 128 and thready. Unconscious since we got there." The paramedic said as they wheeled you into the ER.

"Trauma one" Robby points, "Start with O-neg, get me the FAST and portable chest and pelvis X-rays."

Jack charges into the room, pushing through the sea of bodies to get to you. "Hey, hey i'm here okay? I never left"

"Jack get the fuck out of the way" Robby barks "Page neurosurgery and ortho stat. She needs a head CT the second she’s stable enough."

"I'm sorry i'm so so sorry" he leans over your bloody face, holding it in his hands, "i'm an idiot, this is all my fault"

"Someone move him away right this second!"

But Jack's holding onto the lifeless body, getting in the way of everyone working. "You gotta stay with me, I have to tell you so many more things"

"Robby BP's dropping"

"Jack get the fuck out!" Robby yells again, "Seriously someone get security in here!"

Jack yells at them, "no one dare come close or I swear to God i'll throw punches!"

Robby drops whatever he was holding in his hand and charges over at Jack, grabbing him by the collar of his scrubs. He pushes him against the wall, "listen the fuck up, you need to get your shit together or otherwise we are going to lose her"

Jack cries as he shakes his head, "she can't die, she can't leave me not like this"

"Get out!" Robby yells before walking back to the bed.

It took almost too many bodies to get Jack out of the room, eventually security needing to block the door from him.

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"He loves you, you know"

"How do you know that?"

"I know everything, i'm always right remember?"

"Rue, I thought I loved him too but then he left me"

"He will never leave you, because love never vanishes. Remember that"

"I think I want to stay here with you"

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A long while later, Robby walks out of the room and finds Jack sitting on the floor outside, staring at nothing. Jack registers him standing there, but he is too scared to ask for an update.

"She's stable" Robby says looking down at Jack, "can we talk outside?"

"No" Jack murmurs, "i'm not leaving her side"

"I don't think that's wise"

Jack stands up slowly, limping as he puts weight on his right leg. He looks at Robby, nods at him before pushing past him into the room, Robby following. "Jack, psych will need to come down and speak with her soon. She's high risk"

"She's not"

"She walked into traffic"

"Not on purpose"

Robby scoffs.

"I was there, she didn't do it on purpose. I saw her'

"You called me crying and yelling man" Robby walks toward him as Jack stares at you; too many tubes sticking out of your blood body, "She needs help"

"We all do!" Jack pulls a chair and sits next to the bed and holds onto your hand. "Can you leave?"

"Don't do anything stupid"

A small laugh leaves Jack's lips unexpectedly. "Leave."

Once he leaves the room, Jack sits in silence, watching your chest rise and fall, as he lets his mind whisper the most awful thoughts about him. "You know, I have so many regrets in life" his voice shakes, "but my biggest one was not being honest with you, and I fear I might be too late." He holds your hand and kisses it slowly. "There was a point in my life where I thought I didn't deserve happiness, and I never found out why I felt that way."

"But after meeting you, I stayed, and I couldn't find out why. But now I know" He continues as he cries, "You fell in love with me while grieving, and that's an almost impossible thing to do. I fell in love with you because I couldn't imagine my life without you, and you gave me a purpose to live."

"There's a fine line between love and hate, and I'm so scared I crossed that line." Jack knew that with love comes grief, but with grief comes hate and anger. And Jack worried your next stage would be hating him.

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"Why did you do it Rue? Why did you leave me?"

"I was tired of fighting"

"I am too”

“You should keep fighting”

“I don’t want to anymore. I want to be with you.”

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"I'm so happy with you, so please don't leave me okay? I'm so selfish for asking that, but please do this for me." Jack lets out another sob. "Because if you go, I go, and I fought so hard to want to stay." Jack traces one gentle finger across your cheek, then feels a tear drop. He tries not to move too quickly or cause a reaction that would scare you, but he watches as your eyes open up slowly. “Hey” he says softly, “I’m here, I’m here, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, no not you” you mumble, panic rising in your chest. “No, get away”

“It’s okay, it’s just me.”

“No you’re supposed to be dead.” You push his hand off. “You’re not real, you can’t be.”

“It was all a misunderstanding.” He reaches for your hands again, “please let me explain.”

“You lied to me! You were going to leave me just like she did!”

“I was never ever going to leave you” Jack cries, “I promise you I was never going to do that.”

“Liar! Get out get out!” Robby rushes in after hearing you yelling. “Robby, tell him to get out!”

Jack fights Robby off, “please hear me out. You’re the only one I need. Please”

“Jack get out you’re making everything worse”

Jack cries out, for all of the ER to hear, “please don’t do this!”

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"I'm not angry anymore Rue"

"At me? Or Jack?”

“At you. I think I will forever be angry at Jack.”

“You will never find peace if you stay angry, my love.”

“If I am with you, I will always find peace.”

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“You’re an idiot.” Robby follows Jack outside the ambulance bay. “What were you thinking!”

“Don’t lecture me right now.”

“I think you need it, brother.” Robby scoffs, “she loves you and you pull a shit stunt like you did with that letter?”

“It was old! It meant nothing!”

“You held onto it for a reason. You fucked with her mind, gave her a reason to live, and you wanted to join her friends fate this whole fucking time?”

“Not since I met her! No!”

“Your life shouldn’t depend on one person Jack! You really are an idiot. You should live only because you want to!”

“I want to live” Jack sobs, “I want to live for her. I don’t know why or how, but she gives me a reason to stay!”

“What would you have done? Hmm? If she didn’t survive the accident.”

“I simply would have joined her fate, too.”

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah, you've said that a few times." Jack walks away, "i'm going to see her again, and tell her how much I love her."

Robby doesn't protest as he follows Jack back into the room, only to find an empty bed. He turns over to Robby, "what the hell?"

"She left you."

"What?"

"She left"

"I don't understand, are you messing with me?"

"You don't deserve her."

"No" he shakes his head, "what are you saying?"

"I'm saying she deserves someone better."

"Robby what the fuck?"

"She deserves someone who doesn't write letters. Someone who won't make her fall in love with him, then leave."

"Robby, stop!" Jack yells, "Why are you talking like this!"

"Because, Jack, none of this is real."

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Too many regrets, not enough time.

Too many letters, not enough words.

Too much love, not enough to survive.

Jack wakes up on the ground of the same bridge you were on, looking at the dark sky. He sees too many concerned faces looking down at him. He doesn't register the physical pain, because the pain in his chest is much worse as he looks over to the side and sees a black body bag being wheeled into the ambulance.

He picks up the phone and calls his best friend.

“Shushhhh” Robby’s lips softly blew air over the baby girl's strawberry blonde hair wisps, her face red and flushed with infant anger. Her big chubby leg rolls rippled as she hiccuped and sobbed, her father sitting over on the couch, prosthesis cast aside while his elbows rested on his knees. His palms dug into his eyes…

A week of this, a week of no sleep and a screaming baby who Jack (embarrassingly) still hadn’t gotten around to naming. Simply left outside of his apartment door with a note from a conference fling from the summer of last year. As if the hair wasn’t enough of a tell tale sign of his paternity, the baby's stubbornness was enough of a confirmation. “She has some lungs on her…” Robby carefully bounced the baby girl in his arms, flinching as she screeched into his ears. 

Eventually the sobs and screams hushed down into small hiccups, a little burp escaping her tiny cupid’s bow as her puffy eyelids sealed shut. A sigh of relief escaped the two men as Robby lowered himself onto the couch, the baby still had that newborn scrunch as she stayed snuggled up on the man’s chest. His large burly hands turned innocent to touch as it rested on the baby’s back. 

“I’m sorry for calling you on your day off brother…” Jack groaned, easing back into the leather couch with a grunt as his residual limb throbbed. 

“It’s alright…” he pressed a kiss to the crown of baby Abbot’s head “You know I love the slugger…” Robby’s hand rubbed up and down her back soothing her deep into sleep with a content little noise.

“Perlah told me to sign up to one of those…mommy and me…support classes…” Jack’s eyes flickered between his little girl and Robby's, never losing the deep look of care. 

“It’s not the worst idea…” Robby’s head leaned back onto the pillow behind him, head tilted towards Jack. “when are you sleeping…?”

A snort escaped Jack, “You’re funny. I’ll sleep when I’m dead”

“Well the way you’re going right now that doesn’t seem all too far away…” Robby scoffed, playfully tugging at Jack’s shirt to gain his attention “Go to bed jack…shower, have a nap…” Robby’s brows furrowed, concern etched into every feature of his face. no… love. “This girl needs her dad…and a name sometime soon.”

“I know” he groaned, standing with his crutches as moving towards the bathroom. 

…..

A day later Jack was in a position he never thought he would be, at least not on his own. Occasionally glancing back in the rearview mirror at the baby girl innocently laid in the carseat completely dead to the world. With the amount of work Jack had done over the last 15 years in that goddamn ER he had enough vacation, PTO and sick days to allow him to stay off and take care of his own “Personal business” as he had described it to Gloria. He pulled into the parking lot of the church, eyes bearing into his baby girls the second the car stopped. 

“Hi little lady…you ready?” her eyes opened, drool collecting on her lips, Jack couldn't help but smile at the sleepy look. “Daddy’s going to embarrass himself…” he slung the baby bag over his shoulder before moving to the trunk to unfold the stroller as his baby girl made little squeaks. “Lets home Daddy can get his stroller to- shit- sorry- fuck- i-” his hands went back over his eyes. “I need to stop cursing in front of you…”

“It’s okay…they can’t understand anything at this age…” Jack turned to see you, stood in a halo of sunlight, a baby carrier strapped over your chest while a baby paws up at your cheeks. “You could uh…use a hand?” you giggled, gently unfolding the stroller with a now practiced ease.

“Sorry I’m just a new dad…” you carefully moved around into his car to unbuckle the car seat, she shushed completely as she moved into your arms staring up at you sleepily. 

“She’s adorable…what's her name…?” you spoke gently as your son pawed over at the baby girl curiously. 

“Uh…” his mind scrambled, struggling to admit he hadn’t named her yet, fuck he’d only had her a week and what if her mom already named her and he did it wrong and- “Josephine” it was the first name that came to mind. “Josie…” it has been his wife's name, he couldnt tell if that was fucked up or not. 

“That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” you carefully placed her down in the stroller with a grin. “I’m assuming you’re also heading to the mommy and me class…kind of a restrictive name now i’m realising it- just- sorry- uh- the dad usually never comes along…” you sighed looking at the tan line around where your wedding room used to sit. 

“Well it’s…it’s just me…” Jack forced a small smile looking down at the baby as the two of you took off to walk across the street to the church. 

“No judgement here…just me and georgie here” you pressed a kiss to George's bucket hat as he happily played in his carrier, occasionally pulling at your top as you huffed. 

“Dad not in the picture?”

“Oh his dad is definitely in something” Jack couldn’t help the snort that escaped him as you released your lip from your teeth to laugh. “God…leaving your post-partum wife for some 19 year old…” you huffed barely being able to believe your son came from someone as vile as your soon-to-be ex husband. “I’m-” you looked over at him, his face stoic and angry “god- i’m sorry thats a lot to put on a stranger.”

“He sounds like an absolute asshole…” Jack opened the door for you to step into the church as you gestured directions to the mommy and me room. “I’m more annoyed at your husband- or ex?”

“That is if he’ll sign the divorce papers…” you groaned as you led him in, not oblivious to the stares of the women around the room. You settled down into the beanbag as Jack stood in front of it with tense eyes. “What's wrong?” you watched as Jack tugged up his pantleg to show his prosthesis. You unstrapped George and placed him on the playmat “watch him” you groaned as you stood, body aching from carrying around a 16 pound 3 month old.

“You don’t have to-” you placed Josie down onto the playmat carefully while placing the stroller aside, putting two arms out to jack to help him down onto the beanbag, creating your own body as a frame for him to sit. 

“You can take it off if that would make you more comfortable?” you hummed as he landed with a grunt. Jack's eyes tracked over you. It would be embarrassing to admit that this was the first human contact he had had outside of the emergency room or SWAT in far too long. He’d refused accommodation for so long he forgot people offered it. He pulled up the pant leg to remove it but left his covering on, not quite ready for that move. 

“I see some new faces today…” the instructor cheered as she bounced around, immediately having to back your eyes from rolling.  “Let's start with you!” she pointed towards you, you spoke your name before shyly introducing Georgie to a cacophony of cooing. 

“I’m…I’m jack abbot” his eyes fixed on you, begging for reassurance before continuing. “This is Josephine…shes about…a month and a half…” he hummed. The woman joked about his marriage status, seeing the same tanned line that was around your own finger. 

Your eyes stayed fixed on the way George investigated Josie, gently pawing at her too big baby clothes which you’d assumed someone had given to Jack in a jam. You grinned as Georgie smiled up at you, something he had been doing more and more lately as Josie began to fuss slightly. You nudged Jack with your elbow before he picked her up and sniffed her diaper. “Yup-” he groaned as his face scrunched “thought so”

You giggled and stood, placing Georgie next to one of his other friends while Jack fitted on his prosthesis back on and got your help to stand before you kneeled to lift Josie while Jack grabbed the bag. “Wow…the two of you really are a team aren’t you?” you flustered at Annie’s words (Annie being one of the other mums) rolling your eyes as you supported Josie’s head, "when's the wedding?”

“Never again.” Both of you spoke in unison, heads snapping to each other with a zap. A zing. 

“Are you good to go to the bathroom or do you need my help?” you questioned jack, a sly smile on his face about how it sounded without context. You handed Josie over to him with his prompting.

“I’ll try not to fall in…” he grinned and strolled off to the bathroom as you sat back down into the beanbag. Immediately having a plushy thrown at you as he left the room-

“What was that for!?” you giggled placing bluey back down on the play mat where the babies messed around. 

“You swooped in on ‘doctor tall, dark and handsome’ before any of us could get a look at him!” 

“Most of you are married okay- also I’m just helping him out his wife just left or something-” you huffed suddenly becoming hyper aware of everyone around you staring into your soul. “Poor thing couldn’t even unfold the stroller-”

“Bet he could fold you-” you launched the plushy back at Annie while some of the women cackled or covered the babies ears. You got lost in the laughter until your eyes caught on one shirtless Jack Abbot peaking his head through the doorway. 

“I’m gonna go check on him…” you stood quickly rushing out the door with a hand over your mouth as you made it into the hall. 

“Stop laughing- I thought girls were the ones that didn't excrete onto you!” Jack whispered as he held Josie in his old t-shirt.

“You didn’t pack back ups?” you giggled as you ushered him back into the bathrooms before you scavenged through the diaper bag. “Oh god Jack…” you sighed seeing how gravely undersupplied he was, your eyes snapped back up to him swearing you could see tears brimming in his eyes. “Put the baby down…” you pointed at the changing mat.

He gently put Josie down, you tried to ignore the probable poop smeared all over him and gave him a hug. You felt the tears wet your shirt as he folded inwards. “Why am I so bad at this…?” his voice was low and scratchy as he nuzzled in. He didn't care that you were strangers, all that he cared about was that a human being was showing him real and intense care. 

“You’re not….you’re not bad….” your hand went to his curls “it’s all new and you’re doing this alone…we all feel shit in the beginning- being a single parent fucking sucks…” you sighed rambling on and on until he soothed and quiet settled over the two of you. 

“Hey um…” he spoke your name softly and you looked down. A whole shirt soaked with breast milk as a long whine escaped you, “i’m sorry i think it’s because I cried-” he pulled toilet paper and wipes desperately trying to clean your shirt as you grinned. 

“It’s fine Jack…I’m going to grab my diaper bag and maybe I have some old spares that fit her…but Georgie has always been a big kid- maybe you can um- call someone to bring you new clothes.” you rushed out doing a quick run into the room and being able to borrow a strawberry shortcake onesie that one of the other babies had grown out of, yet, no spare t-shirts to be seen. 

You moved back to the bathroom with the bag and managed to clean the little girl up, showing Jack to do the same before placing Josie back in the room with the rest of the mums to keep watch so Jack could have a break. You both sat on the floor of the bathroom staring at each other while waiting for one of Jack's friends to come supply clean clothes. 

“I never asked…how come you’re a single parent…? IF you don’t mind me asking…” you sighed, staring at the broken down exhausted man, trying not to distract yourself with his huge freckled pecks. 

“um…Josie is a result of a one night stand and- her mom- she apparently couldn't handle it…and dumped her on me last week….” your eyes blew as wide as saucers.

“A week? A week?” you gasped crawling over the floor to sit by his side, his head weighed down onto your shoulder. 

“I have a feeling we’re going to be involved in each other's lives for a while…” Jack sighed with a small smile on his face, the doorknob rattled and another fucking handsome guy stood waiting in the doorway. “This is um- this is my best friend Robby or Michael…” Jack introduced you using a support bar to stand up. 

“Hi Robby or Michael….” your arms went over your shirt trying to hide the mess you’d made. 

“It’s okay we’re both doctors, nothing we haven't seen before…” Robby handed Jack the extra t-shirt before handing one to you as well. “We’ll leave you be for now so you can change.” Robby's hand patted your shoulder, every part of your body stalling for a few seconds. You nodded as the door shut, tugging off the milk soaked tee and replacing it with an oversized shirt that smelled of spruce and mint. It was a dusty green with ARMY printed over the front.

You stepped out seeing the two men deep in conversation that immediately seized when you stepped out, Jack’s hand stopped moving mid air. “How about we blow this joint…?” you giggled walking back towards the room to pick up the kids, getting Robby’s help to get the kids back into their strollers and carries and out to the cars getting QUITE the looks from the other ladies. 

…..

From that day it was pretty much history, it was a rarity to see the three of you separated from one another outside the hospital, you had created quite the system. You worked from home, so there was never much of a need for childcare, which worked perfectly for Jack as everything in your apartment doubled, baby bottles, bouncers, clothes. You’d take Josie from 6pm to 8am when Jack would pick her up or alternatively, Jack would come over and simply sleep in your apartment's guest room while George slept with you and Josie with Jack. 

Mike was the perfect uncle, to both kids, constantly babysitting when one or the other needed a break. The three of you had sworn this was a specifically and solely platonic deal, the perfect balance maintained over the first 7 months of Josie’s life- until the first night something went a little bit off. 

It was a night where it was just Josie, George and you, which meant dinner and bed seamlessly almost all of the time. You sang to the giggling happy babies, now far more aware and animated than they used to be. Josie had just turned 6 months while George closed in on 10. The spoon over the stove being your microphone as some random dad rock from the spotify playlist you jack and robby had created (one conveniently under the family plan). 

As you spun your hand banged off the pot, boiling water falling fully over your upper body- a painful scream escaping your lips as the babies howled with their own. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” you slipped as you ran towards the bathroom with phone in hand, both babies secured in their highchairs as you crawled into the bathtub and turned on the cool shower water. “SIRI CALL ROBBY!”

The phone rang twice before Robby's voice crackled over the speaker “whats wrong? You never usually call at this time-” your screaming cries cut him off and the sound of his sheets ruffling gave away his haste. “WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY? ARE THE BABIES OKAY!?”

“It burns Mikey it all fucking burns!” you sobbed out as Mickey turned on the ignition of his car swerving down streets to the apartment. It felt like hours when he finally broke down the door, paramedics on his tail as he rushed to the babies, checking them over and seeing the state of the kitchen. 

“Oh my god…” he petted back the babies' heads inspecting them for any trace of injury, nothing more than the red puffy face and ginger curls of Josie and the wet cheeks and dark hair and thick hair of George. He carefully moved them from the high chairs into their play pens and ran into the kitchen. “Oh god-” his hands went to his head as the paramedics stripped you of the hot burned clothes, welts and blisters down your front as you went faint. “It’s me- i’m here- i’m here- it’s Robby-”

“What's your relationship to the patient-” a paramedic questioned as robby helped hold you up under the water.

“I’m-” his eyes scanned your blurry ones, searching for a word that fit “- her partner- I’m her partner-” he helped carry you out of the bath and onto a stretcher. He held your cheeks as they moved you into the living room “you got burned really badly okay? So we’re going to take you to the hospital…” his thumbs pet over your red cheeks, his lips connecting to your forehead as you began babbling.

“Are the babies okay? What about the babies- i was supposed to look after them I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry…”

“shhhhh shhhhh shhh” Robby’s lips pressed to the corner of your lips not quite a real kiss, he wouldn't want it to be like this- with you hurt like this. “I’m gonna take them to the hospital alright? You be good with the paramedics-” he had to hold back the gag from the appearance of the burns all over your torso and legs, the legs being the worst where you’d been wearing shorts. His lips pressed to your forehead as you spluttered out more ‘I’m sorrys’ and robby replied with “it’s okay baby”

As soon as you left Robby pressed his phone between his ear and shoulders putting the babies into the car seats which all of you now had fitted into your car. He secured them both in with their now joint baby bag as Jack picked up. “What are you doing up at this time-?”

“Don’t panic-” 

“Okay never say that- telling me not to panic will immediately make me panic-” Jack’s chest immediately tightened hands gripping around the phone until they were white. “Is it the kids- is it honey? - please- please robby-”

“She had an accident-”

“Fuck-” his voice wavered as ellis and lena perked up watching him with a concerned glare “are- what happened are they sending her here?”

“Yeah- yeah- she um-” his hand drew down his face as he turned around the streets the two babies still crying in the background “she spilled a pasta pot- of b-boiling water- down her front- second and third degree burns, third on her legs- mostly- um- it was bad- it was really bad-” Robby’s voice cracked painfully as he sped down the streets with as much restraint as possible. 

Just as he finished the sentence the case was pulled into the ER, Jack dropped his phone, Lena grabbed it as he ran to your gurney, seeing the peeling of your skin and the agony on your face. “I’m here- i’m here Honey i’m here…” jack’s lips pressed to your forehead as you hiccuped, tilting your chin up. “I know it hurts, it does- I know…”

“Nghh-” you whimpered “the babies- my babies-”

“Yes honey our babies are fine- they’re fine-” he kissed the corner of your lips the opposite one to robby, together they would have made a full kiss. “Robby is coming okay?”

“Who- since when do you have children-?” Shen questioned as he rolled you into a bay “who is this Abbot-”

“My partner-” 

“They said the partner found her at the scene with paramedics-”

“That was robby-”

“Then whose the partner you know you will see her regardless-” 

“We are- we are all partners!” Jack snapped “me and robby, robby and her, me and her- all of us okay?!” He was shaking as Robby rushed into the nursing bay with two babies in their carseats. 

“Where- where is she-” Robby placed the babies with Lena and sprinted towards you, his arms went to Jack immediately as Jack held him back, pulling him into a deep hug. He placed a kiss on the other man’s shoulder as he shook violently. 

“Shes-” your sobs broke though as they inspected the injuries.

“Mikeyyy- jackkk-” you whimpered as they moved to pet back the hair on your hairline. “It hurtttsss” your back arched as the doctors tried to hold you down.

“We’re here- we are okay the babies are safe.” Robby kissed a tear off your cheek. Jack’s hand grasping yours, “there's gonna be a sharp scratch okay…?” jacks forehead pressed into yours as they placed the IV much to your dismay. “They’re gonna take away the pain baby…” he pressed his lips to the tip of your nose. 

You’d become accustomed to this kind of affection, it was never a conversation, instead it was a simple rhythm. People often talk about falling in love at first sight, in truth you had considered it maybe happened in the bathroom of the church with Robby, or maybe it was watching Jack fumble with the stroller. But no, it was platonic, at least to a degree in the start, then it gradually relaxed and settled, as if you were falling through clouds gently being ushered down each bump. But here, the men who protected and cared for you, two men who were essentially the fathers of their child. You often joked that in losing one husband you’d overcorrected and provided your son with two dads. 

Now they were more than dads, or friends, they were protectors, comforts. Gradually the doctors filtered out, you got transferred to the burns unit. For the rest of your care but that in no way stopped the two men from seeing you constantly, always bouncing the babies on their hips, sometimes with the nurses or coworkers when you were up to meeting new people. Eventually you were discharged and sent home with a few scars. 

The men each held an arm as you walked into your now apparently shared apartment. Robby and Jack's things strewn around. “We’re gonna need a bigger place…” Robby huffed as he lowered you down onto the couch, playfully pushing Jack over to do the same and kneeling to remove his prosthesis. The babies babbled about in their playpen, you weren't playing much attention instead just whining as robby tried to check your bandages. 

“Stop rob-” you huffed as Jack pressed a long kiss to your jaw, just breathing you in. “wh…what are we?” the men stalled looking up at you as Jack's breath fanned over your cheek. 

“Partners ... p-partners-” Jack's lips reconnected with your jaw, wet and nipping as he went along, eliciting little noises out of you as robby scoffed, finally removing the lining and sitting on your other side. 

“We love you…we love each other…we love the kids…that's all we need” robby hummed, taking advantage of the position of your jaw to gently press a kiss to your lips. A little hum escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. He nipped at your lower lip before moving to switch off with Jack, his hand carefully wrapping around his neck with a grin as Jack weakly groaned into your mouth. Your eyes flickered open remembering that the kids were in fact in the room and went to pull away when “Oh MY GOD!” you squealed as robby chuckled.

“We’re not that good baby-” 

“NO THE KIDS ARE PULLING UP!” you saw the two toddlers with their eyes on the TV both stood up in their play pen. Jack grinned and grabbed his phone taking photos of the two. RObby leaned into your ear with a grin against the shell “maybe we should make one…3rd times the charm-”

It was supposed to be a standard day off. While Frank was enduring the chaos of the day shift at the hospital, you were out with your crew. They were an adventurous bunch, one who spend a Tuesday scaling a sheer rock face because it was relaxing.

Everything was fine until it wasn't.

You fell. It wasn't a plunge from the peak, thank God, but a sheer fifteen foot drop onto hard earth and jagged rocks was more than enough.

You blacked out for a minute, the world rushing back in a blur of panicked voices and hands on your shoulders.

By the time your friends managed to scramble down to you, the adrenaline was already pumping through your veins, masking the trauma.

"I'm okay! I'm fine, seriously," you insisted, waving them off as you pushed yourself up. Your head spun, and your ribs throbbed, but you forced a laugh to quiet their terror.

Aside from some nasty scrapes and a deep ache, you looked intact.

"Don't call Frank," you ordered them strictly as you patched yourself up with the first aid kit. "He’s in the middle of his shift. I'll tell him tonight."

But you didn't.

By 8 PM, you were back home. The adrenaline had completely evaporated, leaving behind an exhaustion and sickening ache in your abdomen.

When Frank walked through the door, you offered him a weak smile from the couch, murmuring something about being tired from the hike, and told him you were going to take a hot shower to wash off the dirt.

Frank kissed the top of your head, completely unaware of the slight wince you hid against his chest. "Don't be too long, baby. I missed you," he murmured, heading to the kitchen to scrounge up some dinner.

While setting his keys on the counter, his phone buzzed.

Then it buzzed again.

It was a text from one of your friends.

Hey Frank, just checking in. Is she doing okay? She took a really nasty fall off the rock face today and knocked herself out for a second. She swore she was fine and made us promise not to call you, but I've been feeling sick about it all night. Please tell me she's okay.

Frank’s blood turned to ice.

Knocked herself out? Fall?

His thumb smashed the call button before his brain could even process the panic. The friend answered on the first ring, sounding guilty.

"Frank, I—"

"How far did she fall?" Frank’s voice was authoritative. "Tell me exactly what happened. Now."

"About fifteen feet. Her rope snapped. She hit the ground hard, Frank. She was unconscious for at least a full minute, maybe two. But she woke up, got right up, and refused to go to the ER. She said she just had some scrapes..."

Frank didn't hear the rest. He immediately connected the dots. Blunt force trauma.

Brief loss of consciousness followed by a lucid interval.

Internal bleeding. Epidural hematoma.

"Baby?!" he roared, his voice cracking with terror.

He put the phone on his pocket and bolted down the hallway, throwing the bathroom door open. The room was thick with steam, the shower running at full blast, but you weren't under the stream.

You were collapsed against the wall. The hot water had washed away the dirt, exposing deep purple and black contusions mottling your entire right side and ribs.

Your eyes were open, but they were glossy and unfocused. The sudden drop in blood pressure from the hot water had completely betrayed your compromised body.

"Frank..." you breathed."J-Just got... dizzy..."

For a second, the fear of a husband seeing his wife bleeding and broken threatened to paralyze him. The panic was shoved into a corner of his mind; he had to save you first. He could break down later.

He was beside in an instant, turning off the shower.

"Okay, I've got you," he muttered. His fingers pressed against your carotid artery, your pulse was thready and dangerously fast.

He gently tilted your chin up, checking your pupils. One was sluggish.

"Frank," you whispered, your eyelids fluttering closed.

"Baby, hey, open your eyes, look at me," he commanded. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialing emergency and putting it on speaker, dropping it on the bathroom counter.

"This is Dr. Frank Langdon, I need an ambulance to my house," he barked at the dispatcher, never breaking eye contact with you. He rattled off your address, your symptoms, and his suspected diagnosis without a single tremor in his voice.

He grabbed a towel, gently wrapping it around your shivering shoulders, careful not to pressure your battered ribs. With one arm under your legs and one behind your back, he lifted you and laid you down on the cold bathroom floor.

"Keep your eyes open, baby, please." Frank pleaded, his hands cupping your face. "You stubborn, foolish woman... why didn't you tell me?"

"Tired..." you mumbled, your head rolling slightly against his palm.

"I know you are, but you have to stay awake. Let's count to 100, okay? Count with me, please."

As the distant wail of sirens finally began to echo in the night air, Frank held your face in his hands, fighting a silent battle against the dark to keep you with him.

-

Frank stayed by your side in the back of the rig, his hand gripping yours so tightly his knuckles were white.

The doors flew open, and the bright lights of the ER hit Frank’s face.

"What do we got?" one of the trauma residents called out, rushing forward with a gurney.

"Blunt force trauma from a fifteen foot fall," Frank barked as he walked alongside the gurney as they wheeled you in. "Brief LOC followed by a lucid interval. GCS is dropping, currently at a nine. Hypotensive, tachycardic, and extensive bruising to the right thoracic wall."

The trauma team immediately went to work, transferring you to the table. Seeing his own wife beneath the harsh resuscitation lights sent a visceral jolt of pure terror straight to Frank's chest.

"Hey, Langdon," Dr. Jack Abbot said, stepping into the bay and gently but firmly placing a hand on Frank's shoulder to stall him. "Frank. We’ve got her. You need to step back."

"Jack, I- I think she’s bleeding internally, her pupil is sluggish—"

"I know. I see it," Jack interrupted, his voice was calm. "Let us do our job. Be her husband, Frank. Let me be her doctor."

It took everything in Frank to take two steps backward, his chest heaving as he watched the team cut away your clothes.

The scans confirmed his worst nightmares: three fractured ribs on your right side, a minor splenic laceration that was thankfully clotting on its own, and the true threat: a brain hemorrhage.

The pressure in your skull was building, and if they didn't drain it immediately, the damage would be irreversible.

"We need to operate. Now," Jack called out, reviewing the scans on the monitor. "Call up to the OR. Tell neuro surgery we're coming up hot. I'm coming with her."

Frank was by your side again. He didn't care who was watching. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his hand gently cupping the uninjured side of your face.

"You fight, okay?" he whispered, his voice trembling, thick with tears he refused to let fall until you were safe. "You are the most stubborn person I have ever met in my life, baby. So use it now."

You couldn't speak, but your fingers gave a microscopic squeeze against his palm before the doors to the elevator slammed shut, taking you up to the operating room.

The next two hours were felt like hell. Frank sat in the surgical waiting room, staring blankly at his hands. Right now, he felt completely helpless. He kept replaying the night in his head, how you had smiled at him, how you had hidden your pain just to spare him a little stress.

If I had just looked closer, he thought, burying his face in his hands. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have seen it.

"Langdon."

He snapped his head up. Jack was walking through the double doors, he looked exhausted, but his expression was soft.

Frank stood up so fast his chair nearly flipped.

He couldn't even form the question.

"She's out," Jack said immediately, offering a reassuring nod. "The burr hole went smoothly. We evacuated the clot and relieved the pressure. The hemorrhage is completely drained, and there’s no sign of rebleeding. Her pupils are equal and reactive."

Frank let out a breath.

"The ribs are going to hurt like hell for a few weeks, and they're going to keep her sedated for the rest of the night to let her brain rest," Jack continued, clapping a hand on Frank's shoulder. "But she’s going to make a full recovery, Frank. Go see her."

The ICU room was quiet, saved for the sound of your heart monitor.

Frank sat in the armchair pulled flush against your bedside. He had your hand enveloped in both of his, pressing it against his lips. You looked peaceful now, the deathly pallor replaced by a healthier flush, sleeping off the heavy anesthesia.

He knew that when you woke up, he was going to give you the lecture of a lifetime about keeping secrets from him.

He was going to remind you exactly how dangerous head injuries were, and he was probably never going to let you go rock climbing again.

Next night, you blinked your eyes open and the lights of the ICU forced you to squint.

"Hey," a soft voice murmured.

You shifted your gaze to the side. Frank was sitting there. His clothes were wrinkled, his jaw was dark with stubble, and his eyes were bloodshot. He immediately leaned forward, kissing your forehead. "Welcome back, baby."

"Frank..." your voice was raspy.

He quickly poured a tiny sip of water from a plastic cup with a straw, holding it to your lips. "Easy. Take it slow."

As the water cleared the fog in your throat, the memories of the bathroom floor and the blinding dizziness came rushing back. You looked at him guiltily. "Why am I here?"

Frank’s expression hardened. "You have three broken ribs. And you had an acute epidural hematoma. Your brain was bleeding. They had to take you up to the OR for an emergency craniotomy to drain the clot and relieve the pressure."

Your eyes went wide. The weight of the medical diagnosis hit your nurse's brain, but then, a sudden realization struck you.

Your hand flew up toward your head, encountering a thick layer of sterile gauze wrapped around your skull.

"Oh my god," you gasped, winced immediately as the movement flared the pain in your broken ribs. "Frank. Oh my god, did they cut my hair?!"

Frank blinked, completely thrown off. Of all the reactions, this was absolutely not on his radar.

"They had to do a burr hole," you stammered, your eyes welling with tragic panic. "You have to shave the scalp to drain a hemorrhage! Frank, am I bald?!"

For a second, Frank just stared at you, utterly bewildered by how quickly you had shifted from a life threatening trauma patient to a woman mourning her haircut. Then, he let out a laugh. The sound thick with unadulterated joy that you were alive and well enough to care about your hair.

"It's not funny!" you protested weakly, pouting. "Tell me the truth!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Frank chuckled, wiping a stray tear of relief from the corner of his eye as he leaned over the bed rail, gently capturing your hand to stop you from picking at the bandages. "You're not bald, I promise. Just a little part. They were very neat, they only shaved a small strip near the incision site. The rest of your hair will cover it right up. You still look beautiful."

You let out a dramatic sigh of relief, sinking back into the pillows, though your eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Doctor's honor," Frank smiled looking at you.

He leaned back in his chair and he couldn't resist a little payback for the sheer terror you had put him through. "Though... now that I think about it, they did mention they had a bit of a slip with the clippers. There might be a random bald patch right at the crown. Kind of looks like a reverse mohawk."

Your jaw dropped. The playful look on his face completely bypassed your foggy post op brain. Combined with the lingering anesthesia, the pain in your ribs, and the emotional exhaustion of the last twenty four hours, the thought of a botched hospital haircut was the final straw.

Your lower lip began to tremble. Your eyes welled up with tears. "A reverse mohawk?" you said, your voice cracking. "Frank, are you serious?"

Frank’s smile vanished in an instant. The teasing persona evaporated, replaced immediately by absolute panic as he realized his joke had completely backfired.

"Oh, baby, no, no, no," he immediately leaned over the bed and gently catched your face in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I was joking. I swear to you, I was just joking."

"You're lying," you sniffled, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tried not to sob because it hurt your chest.

"I am a terrible liar, you know that," Frank cooed. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. "Your hair is perfect. They didn't slip. There is no mohawk. I was just being an idiot."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then another to the tip of your nose, staying close so you could feel the warm comfort of his breath. He carefully combed his fingers through the intact strands of your hair that weren't covered by the gauze, showing you that it was all still there.

"See? It's all here," he murmured. "Every beautiful strand. No more jokes, I promise."

You sniffled one last time, leaning your head heavily into his palms as the panic subsided, replaced by the warm of his affection. "You're terrible," you whispered.

"I know," Frank chuckled softly, pressing his lips to your crown, completely consumed by the relief of having you safe in his arms. "But I'm your terrible husband."

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

The argument from the night before had settled over the apartment like smoke. It had started over something stupid. Most of your fights did. Two impossible schedules. Another missed dinner. Another week where your conversations revolved around patient lists and shift changes and whether one of you remembered to pay the gas bill. But then, like always, the real problem had emerged.

You.

Or perhaps, more accurately, your inability to stop. Three shifts in a row. Two committee meetings. A peds lecture you insisted on giving. Covering for another attending because you felt guilty saying no. Robby had come home after twenty hours in the ED to find you answering emails at midnight.

“You know you’re allowed to sit down, sweetheart.”

“I am sitting down.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had. You always knew what he meant.

“You don’t get to decide what I can handle.”

“No, but I get to decide when I think my wife is running herself into the ground.”

“I am not running myself into the ground.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“I’d call it doing my damn job.”

He had laughed at that. Not because it was funny. Because he was frustrated. Because you had missed the point.

“You know, for someone so brilliant, you’re really good at pretending.”

That had earned him your full attention.

“Pretending what?”

“That everybody needs something from you every second of the day.”

“People do need things from me.”

“And somehow the entire world would collapse if you took one night off?”

“You know what, Michael? I don’t need your permission.”

“And I don’t need your approval every time I tell you to take care of yourself.”

You had stood then, crossing your arms.

“No. What you need is control.”

The second the words left your mouth, you saw the hurt flash through his eyes. Not anger. Not irritation. Hurt.

Because after everything, after all the years, after all the things he had trusted you with, that was the accusation that cut deepest. Control.nHe rose from the couch, towering over you, broad shoulders tense beneath a faded black t-shirt.

“That is bullshit and you know it.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, you know what? Maybe you’re just more comfortable being Chief Robby.”

His jaw tightened.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that sometimes I think you forget you’re my husband.”

The room went completely still. His dark eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“Everything is orders. Everything is instructions. Everything is fixing. Maybe I don’t always need to be fixed.”

“And maybe I don’t enjoy watching the woman I love work herself to death.”

“I am not dying.”

“No, sweetheart, you’re just disappearing.”

You had blinked.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

His voice had softened then. Too soft. That dangerous softness that always hurt more than shouting.

“You disappear, and I get whatever scraps are left. Thirty minutes here. A couple hours there. I go to bed alone because you’re charting. I wake up alone because you’re already answering emails. And every time I tell you I miss you, somehow I become the bad guy.”

His voice cracked. Just slightly.

“So forgive me for wanting my wife.”

You should have stopped then. You should have crossed the room and kissed him. You should have wrapped your arms around his neck and reminded him that he was your favorite place on earth.

But you were tired. And he was tired. And tired people say cruel things.

“So this is about you.”

His face changed. Not dramatically. Not loudly. But you watched something retreat behind his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at you with so much tenderness only hours before.

“No,” he said quietly. “This is about us.”

“Sounds like it’s about you.”

Silence. Long. Painful silence. Then he nodded once.

“Fine.”

That one word terrified you. Because Michael Robinavitch never said “fine.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled heavily, and walked toward the bedroom. You followed him.

“That’s it?”

“What exactly would you like from me right now?”

“I don’t know. A conversation.”

“I’ve been trying to have one.”

“You know what? Forget it.”

“No,” he said softly. “Apparently that’s exactly what we’re both very good at.”

He slept on his side of the bed. You slept on yours.nNeither one of you touched.nNeither one of you slept. And somehow that had hurt more than any argument.

By morning, the silence remained.nYou stood at the coffee maker while he tugged at his shirt. He looked devastatingly handsome, annoyingly so, gray in his beard more pronounced in the sunlight, dark eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

God, you loved him. Even angry. Especially angry. You wanted to apologize. You knew he wanted to apologize too. You could feel it.

But pride was such a stupid thing. He grabbed his keys. You grabbed your bag. Neither one of you moved. Neither one of you left. Because neither one of you wanted to be the first. Finally, he spoke.

“Have a good shift.”

Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not honey. Just the words. Professional. Polite. Cold. You swallowed.

“You too.”

He nodded once. Then he walked out. And for the first time since you’d married him, Michael Robinavitch left for work without kissing you goodbye. You stood alone in the apartment long after the door closed. Something deep in your chest twisted painfully.

Because the argument itself didn’t scare you. Nothing about Michael scared you. Not his temper. Not his stubbornness. Not his silence.

What scared you was that small voice whispering inside your head. Go after him. Call him. Fix this. Because life is short. And pride isn’t worth it.

But you ignored the voice. And neither of you knew that by the end of the day, both of you would have traded anything on earth to go back to this moment and say one more thing.

******

By ten that morning, the argument had settled into something far worse than anger. Distance. Neither of you had called. Neither of you had texted. Not because either of you was still furious. The truth was almost more ridiculous than that. You both knew exactly how this would end. One of you would apologize. The other would apologize. You would end up tangled together on the couch, half-laughing at how stubborn you’d both been.

That was the thing about your marriage. You never questioned whether you would find your way back to one another. You always did. Still, there was pride. There was exhaustion. There was the unspoken agreement that perhaps a few hours apart would do you both some good.

By noon, you almost sent him a picture of the disastrous cup of coffee Mel had made in the physician’s lounge.

By one, you had typed out I’m sorry. Then deleted it.

By two, you imagined he was doing the exact same thing. And somewhere across PTMC, Michael Robinavitch sat in his office staring at his phone for so long that Dana finally leaned against the doorway and frowned.

“Either ask your wife if she wants Thai tonight or stop glaring at that thing.”

Robby looked up.

“I wasn’t glaring.”

Dana snorted.

“Robby, I have known you for years. You look like a Victorian widow.”

He sighed heavily.

“We had an argument.”

“Ah.”

“Nothing major.”

“Those are always the worst ones.”

He rubbed his eyes.

“I hate this.”

Dana smiled sympathetically.

“You’ve hated every fight you’ve ever had with her.”

“Because they’re stupid.”

“Then fix it.”

“I’m trying to give her space.”

Dana burst out laughing.

“You? Giving space?”

His expression darkened.

“Apparently, that’s what she wants.”

Dana’s smile softened.

“No, Michael. That’s what hurt people say they want.”

He looked away. The truth was he had drafted three texts.

One said, I’m sorry.

Another said, I miss you.

The last one simply said, Come back to me.

He had deleted all three. Because maybe she needed time. Because maybe he needed time. Because maybe neither of you had been fair. And because despite everything, he trusted you.

He trusted the two of you.nThere would be tonight. There would always be tonight.

At three thirty-seven in the afternoon, every phone in the department exploded. Cassie appeared from Trauma Two at the exact same moment Mel ran out of another room.

“What the hell?”

Dana was already reaching for her tablet.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Robby stood immediately.

“What?”

“A Gateway Clipper.”

Everyone froze. Cassie blinked.

“The tour boat?”

Dana nodded grimly.

“Collision near Station Square. Preliminary reports say it hit a maintenance barge. People in the water. Unknown number of injuries.”

The room erupted into motion. Trauma alerts. Bed assignments. Surgery notifications. Transport. Residents running. Nurses moving. Overhead pages beginning to scream. Robby’s voice instantly transformed.

“Mel, open overflow. Dana, coordinate with EMS. Cassie, I want every trauma bay cleared. Langdon, where are you?”

“Right here.”

“We’re going to need every damn body we’ve got.”

More information poured in. Multiple casualties. Children involved. Dozens injured. Unknown fatalities. And then someone said your name. You appeared in the doorway already pulling on your trauma vest.

“Peds team is heading to Station Square.”

Robby turned. And for just a second, everything else disappeared. God. You were beautiful. You were exhausted and irritated and still slightly angry with him, but you were beautiful. His wife. His favorite person. The woman who had somehow become the center of his universe.

You hadn’t spoken all day. And now chaos surrounded you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell you that he’d been an idiot. Instead, years of professionalism stood between you.

“You’re going?”

You nodded.

“We need pediatric attendings on scene.”

“Langdon’s heading out too.”

“I know.”

His dark eyes lingered on yours. Too many words trapped behind them. Too many apologies. Too much love. For one dangerous second, neither of you moved. The world around you was screaming. People rushed past. Phones rang. Overhead pages echoed. But the two of you simply stared.

Because neither of you wanted your last conversation to be a fight. Neither of you wanted to walk away. He stepped closer. Close enough that no one else could hear. His voice dropped.

“Sweetheart…”

The endearment almost undid you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed hearing it.

“I’m sorry.”

You swallowed.

“Michael—”

“Not now,” he said softly. “We’ll do this later.”

You nodded. Your eyes burned.

“We will.”

His hand almost reached for yours. Almost. But a nurse called his name. And Mel shouted yours. Duty. Always duty. You smiled sadly.

“Save me some coffee.”

His mouth twitched.

“Terrible coffee?”

“The worst kind.”

He shook his head.

“You have terrible taste.”

“And yet you married me.”

“Still trying to figure out how that happened.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. And there he was. Your husband. Your Michael. Not Chief Robby. Not Dr. Robinavitch. Just the man you loved.mThe man who looked at you like you were his home.

You started to turn away. Then stopped. Something in your chest tightened. Something strange. Anxiety.nFear. The overwhelming need to touch him. To kiss him.mTo tell him you loved him.nYou almost laughed at yourself.

Maybe Dana was right. Maybe hurt people said stupid things. Maybe life was too short. So you turned back. He was watching you. Always watching you. And in front of half the emergency department, you crossed the distance and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Surprise flashed across his face. Then warmth. Then relief. His arms immediately circled your waist, pulling you against his broad chest as though he’d been waiting all day for permission.mHe buried his face briefly in your hair and exhaled. The sound almost broke your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“So am I.”

You felt his lips brush your forehead.

“So we’re okay?”

His answer came immediately.

“We’re always okay.”

Tears stung your eyes.

“I love you.”

His arms tightened. Dark eyes soft and tired and so incredibly full of love.

“I know, sweetheart.”

You laughed.

“You know?”

“I know.”

“That’s all I get?”

A smile touched his mouth. And suddenly, for the first time since last night, Michael Robinavitch looked like himself again.

“No.”

He kissed you. Not deeply. Not passionately. Just slowly. Tenderly. His hand cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed beneath your eye. And for one perfect moment, the rest of the world disappeared. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you too.”

You smiled.

“See you later.”

“See you later.”

The words felt ordinary. Safe. Certain. Because later was guaranteed. Later was dinner. Later was bad television and falling asleep tangled together. Later was forever.

You walked toward the ambulance bay with Langdon and the others. Robby watched you go. And without realizing why, he kept watching. Long after you disappeared from sight. Long after Dana called his name. Long after he should have turned away. Something sat uneasily in his chest. Not fear. Nothing so dramatic. Just a feeling. An irritating, persistent feeling.

As though he should have kissed you again. As though he should have held you longer. As though some instinct deep inside him was begging him not to let you go. He finally forced himself back to work. And thirty minutes later, while chaos exploded along the Monongahela River and terrified passengers screamed on the docks near Station Square, Michael Robinavitch had absolutely no idea that his entire world was about to slip beneath the water.

******

Mass casualty incidents always possessed their own kind of madness. Not panic. Panic was sloppy. Chaos was emotional. This was different.

This was organized insanity. The kind Michael Robinavitch had spent his entire career preparing for. The emergency department moved like a machine. Trauma bays filled and emptied. Nurses sprinted between rooms. Blood coolers arrived. Residents barked out vital signs. Surgeons argued with radiology. Parents cried. Children screamed. And through the center of it all stood Robby. Steady. Calm. Commanding.

His voice cut through the noise like a knife.

“I need Trauma Three cleaned now. Langdon’s team should be bringing another round in. Mel, stop fighting with surgery and just tell them they’re getting what they’re getting. Dana, where are my peds beds?”

Nobody questioned him. Nobody ever questioned him. Because Michael Robinavitch was the eye of the storm. Always. Cassie had once told a resident that if nuclear war broke out, she wanted Robby in charge. The resident had laughed. Cassie hadn’t. And so when the radio traffic started getting stranger, nobody thought much of it.

Secondary injuries. Patients in the water. Hypothermia. Near drownings. Robby heard the updates. Filed them away. Moved on. There wasn’t time to dwell. There were too many people to save.

Still, he found himself glancing at the ambulance bay every few minutes. Not consciously. Not intentionally. Just enough to see if maybe you’d come through the doors. Maybe your team had returned. Maybe he’d catch your eye. Maybe he’d steal thirty seconds and kiss your forehead. Tell you dinner was his treat. Tell you he’d missed you. Tell you he was sorry. Tell you—

“Chief?”

Robby blinked.

“What?”

Mel frowned.

“Trauma Four?”

He nodded immediately.

“Right. Sorry.”

Mel’s eyebrow rose.

“Thinking about your wife?”

“No.”

“Robby.”

He sighed.

“Yes.”

She smiled.

“Good. Means your head’s still attached.”

Then another ambulance arrived. Then another. Then two more. The emergency department swallowed them whole.

Children. Broken bones. Chest injuries. Lacerations. And still no sign of you. Which wasn’t unusual. Not enough to concern him. Not yet. Then Dana appeared beside him.

“Have you heard from her?”

He shook his head.

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“No.”

Dana frowned slightly.

“That’s odd.”

“She’s busy.”

“She’s married.”

Robby smiled despite himself.

“You’re one to talk.”

Dana shrugged.

“You know I’m right.”

He did. You always texted. Not paragraphs. Not novels. Just little things.

Alive.

Busy.

Miss you.

Something. Always something. He reached for his phone. No messages. He told himself not to be ridiculous. You were fine. Of course you were fine. You were probably knee deep in blood and paperwork and rolling your eyes at Langdon’s jokes.

The thought almost made him smile. And then the ambulance doors opened. Robby turned automatically. His eyes landed on Frank first. Which made no sense. Because Langdon looked terrible. Absolutely terrible. His dark hair plastered to his forehead. His clothes soaked. Not wet. Drenched. River water streamed off him. His hands were bloody. His face pale. And for one strange second, Robby’s mind focused entirely on that.

Why the hell is Langdon soaked? Then he saw the stretcher. And his world stopped.

No.

No.

No.

No.

The sound disappeared. Completely. Voices vanished. Monitors vanished. Everything vanished. Because lying on that stretcher…Motionless. Blue. Unconscious. Was you.

Someone was bagging you. Another nurse was performing compressions. Your hair was soaked. Your skin gray. Blood mixed with river water. And for several long, horrible seconds, Michael Robinavitch’s mind refused to understand what his eyes were seeing. It couldn’t. It absolutely could not.

Because you had just kissed him. Because you had said later. Because you were supposed to come home

This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. And then Frank shouted.

“Robby!”

The sound shattered reality. Robby moved. Or perhaps he stumbled. He would never remember. He only knew that suddenly he was running. People moved out of his way. He reached the stretcher. And everything inside him broke.

“Sweetheart.”

The word came out strangled. Terrified. His hand touched your face. Cold. Jesus Christ. Cold.

“No.”

Your lips were blue. Your eyes closed. Your body limp.

“No.”

Someone was talking. Someone was shouting. He couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear anything.

“Robby!”

Cassie.

“Robby!”

His eyes snapped upward. Professional instinct fought through sheer terror. Barely. Pulse absent. CPR ongoing. Hypothermia. Near drowning. He knew the medicine.

He knew exactly what was happening. But this wasn’t a patient. This wasn’t a stranger. This wasn’t a trauma. This was his wife. His wife. And she wasn’t breathing.

“No, no, no—”

His voice cracked. He climbed alongside the stretcher. Dana grabbed him.

“Robby!”

He jerked away.

“Move!”

“Robby!”

“Move!”

People froze. Because nobody had ever heard that sound before. Not from him. Not from Michael Robinavitch. Fear. Pure fear. He reached for you.

“Sweetheart.”

His voice shattered.

“Baby.”

Cassie stepped in front of him.

“Robbyl, let us work.”

“No.”

His eyes were wild.

“No.”

“Robby”

“No!”

The scream echoed through the trauma bay. Silence followed. Complete silence. Residents froze. Nurses froze. Mel froze. Because nobody had ever seen him like this.

Not during COVID. Not after Adamson. Not after PittFest. Not ever. Tears streamed down his face. He didn’t even know. Didn’t even feel them.

“Please.”

His voice broke.

“Please.”

Dana seized his shoulders.

“Michael!”

His eyes found hers. And Dana’s heart shattered. Because the man looking back at her wasn’t the Chief. Wasn’t the attending. Wasn’t the mentor. He was just a husband. Terrified. Broken. Drowning right alongside you.

“She needs you to let us save her.”

His breathing hitched. Cassie took over compressions. Collins barked orders. And slowly, trembling violently, Robby stepped back. Only because you needed him to. Only because you would kill him if he got in the way. He stood frozen. Watching. Praying. Begging. And then he saw Frank.

Still standing there. Still dripping. Still shaking. Langdon looked haunted. Robby stared at him.

“What happened?”

Frank’s eyes filled immediately. And Robby had known Frank for years. He had seen him cocky. Arrogant. Funny. Brilliant. He had never seen him cry.

“She…” Frank swallowed hard. “She got knocked off the dock.”

The room tilted.

“What?”

“One of the gangways collapsed. There was panic. People pushing.”

Robby’s face drained of color.

“Knocked where?”

Frank looked devastated.

“The river.”

Everything stopped. Because Michael Robinavitch knew something almost nobody else did. He knew that every beach vacation ended with you sitting on the shore. He knew you hated deep water. He knew you’d once clung to him in Aruba because the ocean floor disappeared beneath your feet.

He knew. God. He knew. You couldn’t swim. His knees nearly buckled.

“No.”

Frank nodded, tears running down his own face.

“I got to her as fast as I could.”

Robby stared.

“She was alone?”

“No.”

“But she was under.”

No.

No.

No.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

No.

“No.”

“Robby—”

“NO!”

The scream ripped out of him. Raw. Animal. The kind of sound people made when their soul was being torn apart. He covered his mouth immediately. Trembling. Sobbing. And then Frank stepped forward. Still soaked. Still shivering. His own voice shaking.

“I got her.”

Robby looked up.

“She disappeared.”

Frank’s voice cracked.

“And I couldn’t find her.”

Fresh tears filled his eyes.

“But I found her.”

Robby stared at him.

“I found her.”

Silence. Then, in front of half the emergency department, Michael Robinavitch crossed the room and grabbed Frank. Not punched him. Not yelled at him. He pulled the younger man into a crushing embrace. Frank broke completely. And so did Robby. Because there were no words. None. Only gratitude. Only terror. Only love. And neither man noticed that across the trauma bay, Dana’s eyes had filled.

Or that Cassie had turned away. Or that Mel King was crying. Because nobody there had ever seen Michael Robinavitch this broken. Nobody. And as he looked at your lifeless body lying beneath bright trauma lights, tears falling unchecked down his face, one thought repeated itself over and over again.

Not later.

Please God.

Not later.

I’ll say everything now.

I’ll never fight again.

I’ll never complain.

I’ll never ask for space.

I’ll give her everything.

I’ll spend every day proving I love her.

Just let me keep her.

Please.

Please.

And for the first time since he had become Chief Attending, Michael Robinavitch was absolutely helpless. Because medicine could not command death. And all the brilliance in the world meant nothing when the love of his life wasn’t breathing.

******

The first thing you became aware of was warmth. Not pain. Not voices. Warmth. Something large and solid wrapped around your hand. Something familiar. Something safe.

You floated toward it instinctively. Toward the heat. Toward the steady pressure around your fingers. Toward the rhythm you knew better than your own heartbeat.

Michael.

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Your throat hurt. Everything hurt. But that warmth remained. Always there. Always waiting. You fought your way upward. Slowly. And when your eyes finally opened, the room was dark.

Quiet. The lights dimmed. Monitors hummed softly. And Michael Robinavitch sat beside your bed. His head rested against the mattress. Still holding your hand. Asleep.

Your husband looked terrible. Not tired. Not exhausted. Destroyed.

His hair stood in every direction. His beard had gone completely untamed, gray more prominent than you’d ever seen it. Deep shadows sat beneath his dark eyes. The same broad shoulders that had always made you feel so safe seemed bowed beneath some invisible weight.

You blinked. Confused. Then memories flooded back. The dock. Screaming. Cold. Falling. Darkness. Water. Terror.

Your heart monitor immediately sped up. Robby jerked awake. For one horrible second, his expression held sheer panic. Wild. Desperate. Until he saw your eyes. Everything stopped. His entire face changed. Not relief. Not happiness. Something much deeper. Something that nearly shattered your heart. He looked grateful. Tears immediately filled his eyes.

“Oh.”

His voice broke. And before you could react, he was on his feet.

“Baby.”

He leaned over you carefully, one hand cradling your face.

“Hey.”

His voice trembled. You had never seen him cry like this. Never. Not during Adamson. Not after PittFest. Not when his father died. Never. Tears ran freely down his face. He laughed through them. A broken sound.

“Oh, thank God.” His forehead fell against yours. “Thank God.”

You tried to speak. Nothing came out. His eyes widened immediately.

“No, no.” His hand stroked your hair. “You don’t have to talk.”

Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

“You don’t have to do anything.”

His thumb trembled against your cheek.

“You just stay right here.”

He kissed your forehead. Then your temple. Then your hair. As though he couldn’t stop touching you. As though if he stopped, you might disappear again.

“Michael.”

It came out hoarse. Barely a whisper. But he froze. Because you had spoken. His eyes closed. And another tear escaped.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You swallowed painfully. “Hi.”

The laugh that escaped him turned into a sob. God. An actual sob. And suddenly Michael Robinavitch buried his face against the blanket beside your hip and broke apart. Not quietly. Not gracefully. He shook. His shoulders trembled violently.

And you realized with dawning horror that this wasn’t relief. This wasn’t emotion. This was collapse. This was a man who had been holding himself together by threads.

“Michael.”

Immediately, he sat upright. Immediately. As though he’d forgotten himself.

“I’m sorry.” He wiped his face. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed shakily.

“You wake up and I’m crying all over you.”

Your fingers tightened weakly around his hand. His breath caught. And he immediately clasped both hands around yours. As though you had handed him the world.

“How long?”

His eyes lowered.

“Three days.”

You blinked. Three days.

“Three days?”

He nodded.

“You scared the hell out of everybody.”

You managed a weak smile.

“Sorry.”

His head snapped upward. And suddenly there was something fierce in his eyes. Something wounded. His voice cracked.

“No, sweetheart.” His hand cupped your face. “You don’t apologize.”

Fresh tears gathered again.

“You don’t.”

The room grew quiet. And then you noticed something.

“Have you gone home?”

Silence. His silence. Your eyes narrowed.

“Michael.”

Nothing.

“Michael.”

“No.”

You stared.

“No?”

“I showered.”

“Where?”

His eyes dropped.

“Call room.”

“Michael.”

“I changed clothes.”

“Michael.”

His voice was very small.

“Dana yelled at me.”

You blinked.

“Dana yelled at you?”

“Cassie too.”

Another pause.

“Mel threatened me.”

Despite your pain, you almost smiled.

“What did Mel threaten?”

His mouth twitched.

“To sedate me.”

That earned the tiniest laugh from you. His entire face softened immediately. God. He looked starved for the sound. As though hearing you laugh was the greatest miracle he’d ever witnessed.

And then his smile disappeared. Completely. His eyes lowered to your intertwined hands. His thumb stroked your ring. Over and over. And over.

“Michael?”

He didn’t answer. Something changed. The room changed. His shoulders tightened. His jaw flexed. And suddenly your brilliant, composed husband looked afraid. Terrified.

“Hey…Michael.”

His eyes lifted. They were red. Bloodshot. Haunted. And you knew. Whatever happened after you disappeared into that river…

Whatever he had seen…

Whatever he had endured…

He had not escaped it.

“Talk to me.”

His eyes closed.

“It’s fine…”

“Michael.”

“No.”

“Please.”

His breathing became uneven.

“You don’t need—”

“Talk to me.”

Silence. Then he whispered.

“I thought you were dead.”

The words sucked the air from the room. His voice cracked immediately.

“I thought…” He stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. “I thought…”

Nothing. His eyes squeezed shut. And suddenly tears streamed down his face.

“I thought you were gone.”

You stared. His entire body trembled.

“When they brought you in…” His voice broke. “When I saw you…”

He covered his eyes.

“I couldn’t understand what I was looking at.” His breathing hitched. “You had just kissed me.”

Another tear escaped.

“You had just said later.” His shoulders shook. “And then…”

His voice dropped into something raw. Animal. Something you’d never heard before.

“They were doing compressions.”

Your heart broke.

“Oh, Michael.”

“I couldn’t breathe.” He laughed bitterly. “Isn’t that ironic?”

His eyes opened.

“So much blood. So much death. Thirty years of medicine.” His voice cracked. “And none of it mattered.”

He looked utterly shattered.

“Because all I could think was that I never got enough time.”

Tears blurred your vision. His hand pressed against his mouth.

“I thought the last thing you were ever going to remember was our fight.”

“Baby.”

“I thought those were my last words to you.”

“They weren’t.”

“I thought I wasted our last day.”

You squeezed his hand.

“It wasn’t.”

His breathing grew rough.

“I thought…”

Another sob escaped. And suddenly the words poured out.

“I thought I was watching the end of my life.”

The room went still. His eyes met yours. And you saw it. The truth. Not melodrama. Not exaggeration. Truth. Because Michael Robinavitch had loved you so deeply that the idea of continuing without you wasn’t something he could comprehend.

Not because he couldn’t survive. He would. He would get up. He would go to work. He would keep saving people. But he would never truly live again. And he knew it. He knew it.

“I looked at that stretcher and…” He laughed weakly. “God, sweetheart.”

His voice broke completely.

“I remember thinking…”

He shook his head.

“I don’t want this life.”

Tears streamed down your face.

“Michael.”

“I don’t.”

He looked ashamed. Terrified.

“I don’t want a life where you’re gone.” His forehead dropped against your hand. “I don’t want the apartment.”

His voice shattered.

“I don’t want the coffee.” Another sob. “I don’t want Sundays.”

His shoulders shook.

“I don’t want Christmas.” His hand clutched yours desperately. “I don’t want any of it if you’re not there.”

You cried openly now. Because there he was. Not Chief Robby. Not the attending. Not the mentor. Just your husband. Your beautiful, stubborn, graying husband. Broken. Completely broken. And all because he loved you. You reached up weakly.

“Come here.”

His eyes immediately opened.

“What?”

“Michael.” You smiled through tears. “Come here.”

He stood. Carefully climbed onto the bed beside you. Not caring that he was too big. Not caring about dignity. And suddenly his arms surrounded you. Gentle. Protective. His face buried in your neck. His large body curled around yours. Holding you so carefully. So reverently. As though you were something sacred.

His breathing trembled. And then, in the darkness of the room, Michael Robinavitch whispered something he’d never admitted before. Not in all your years together. Not once.

“I was angry with God.”

You froze. His arms tightened.

“I haven’t been angry with Him in a very long time. If given up on Him a long time ago.” His voice cracked. “But I was.”

He buried his face deeper against your neck.

“I was furious.” Another shaky breath. “Because after Adamson and COVID and PittFest and everything else…”

His lips trembled against your skin.

“I thought He couldn’t possibly ask me for you too.”

Your heart shattered. And suddenly you understood. This wasn’t about fear. It wasn’t even about grief. It was love.

Thirty years of medicine had taught Michael Robinavitch that eventually everyone left. Everyone. Patients. Friends. Mentors. Parents. Even heroes.

But not you.

Never you. Not his girl. Not his wife. Not the woman whose side of the bed he reached for every night. Not the woman who stole his sweatshirts and made terrible coffee and danced in the kitchen. Not the woman who knew every scar on his soul and loved him anyway. Not you. Never you. And holding you against him, feeling your heartbeat beneath his hand, Michael Robinavitch closed his eyes and whispered against your hair.

“I am never wasting another second with you.”

And this time, when tears slid down his face, they weren’t tears of terror. They were tears of gratitude. Because later had come. And later had brought you back to him.

******

By the time the bruises faded, neither of you were quite the same people. The doctors called it recovery. The therapists called it trauma. Dana called it two stubborn idiots refusing to admit they’d nearly died right alongside one another.

And perhaps she wasn’t entirely wrong. Physically, you healed beautifully. Emotionally, neither of you knew what beautiful looked like anymore. Not yet.

Because the truth nobody talked about was that surviving something did not mean leaving it behind. Sometimes survival simply meant learning how to carry it. And Michael Robinavitch carried it everywhere. At first, you thought he was simply hovering. You would wake up in the middle of the night and find him watching you.

Not creepily. Not strangely. Just…Watching.

His hand resting over your stomach beneath the blankets. His dark eyes soft in the moonlight. Quiet. Tender. As though seeing you breathe remained the greatest miracle he had ever witnessed. The first time you caught him doing it, he’d looked almost embarrassed.

“Sorry.”

“Michael.”

“I woke up.”

“And?”

His eyes lowered.

“I just wanted to see you breathing.”

Your heart broke. Because you knew. God. You knew. He wasn’t watching you. He was reassuring himself. Making sure you were still there. And some nights, you would wake to find him buried against your neck, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his breathing uneven.

Dreaming. You knew that too. The nightmares had followed both of you home. Yours came with water. His came with stretchers. And some mornings, you’d find him sitting on the edge of the bed before dawn, shoulders hunched, face in his hands. He always insisted he was fine. And eventually, because you knew your husband, you stopped asking if he was okay.

Instead, you simply crossed the room, sat beside him, and rested your head against his shoulder. And every single time, without fail, Michael would turn into you. His head would fall onto yours. His hand would find yours. And he’d breathe again.

The clinginess made everyone laugh. Including you. Cassie had nearly choked on her coffee one afternoon.

“You know she survived, right?”

Robby looked up from where he was helping you with your coat.

“I’m aware.”

Dana grinned.

“You realize she can walk?”

“I am also aware.”

Mel had smiled.

“Dr. Robby, if you hold her any tighter you’re going to absorb her.”

Without missing a beat, he’d replied, “That’s the dream.”

Everybody laughed. Except him. Because he hadn’t been joking. Not really. The truth was much harder. And much sadder.

Because every day he came home and found you there, some part of him still looked surprised. Grateful. As though he had expected the universe to change its mind. As though he still couldn’t quite believe he had gotten you back. And perhaps the most surprising thing was that you understood.

Because some nights you woke in tears. Some nights you remembered the water. The darkness. The helplessness. And you would curl yourself around him and bury your face against his chest, seeking the steady beat of the heart you loved. And he always woke. Always. No matter how deeply asleep.

“Sweetheart?” His voice rough with sleep. “Come here.”

And suddenly you would be wrapped in warmth. In strength. In Michael. And somehow that made the world right again.

******

Three months after the accident, you stood beside the indoor pool at the rehab center. Arms crossed. Suspicious.

“I hate you.”

Robby laughed.

“No, you don’t.”

“I absolutely do.”

He looked unfairly handsome in swim trunks and a faded Pitt t-shirt, gray at his temples catching the sunlight.

“I’ve seen you hate people, sweetheart. This isn’t it.”

You glared.

“I nearly drowned.”

“I know.” His smile faded. “I know.”

His voice softened immediately.

“And we’re going to teach your brain that water isn’t the enemy.” His hand reached for yours. “We do this together.”

You squeezed his fingers.

“Together?”

He smiled.

“Always.”

And so he taught you. Patiently. Tenderly. Never rushing. Never pushing. He held you when panic came. Made jokes when tears came. Wrapped you in towels afterward and kissed your forehead and called you brave.

Because somewhere deep inside Michael Robinavitch, a promise had formed. Never again. Never again would helplessness stand between him and the woman he loved. Never again.

And then one evening in October, months after the accident, the two of you finally made it back to your apartment. Not the place. Home. You cooked dinner together. Burned the chicken. Ordered takeout. Laughed. Fell asleep halfway through a movie. Normal. Ordinary. Beautiful.

And sometime around midnight, you woke. Not because of your own nightmare. Because Michael was shaking. Immediately, you sat up.

“Michael.”

Nothing.

“Baby.”

He gasped. His eyes flew open. Panic. Absolute panic. And for one terrible second, he wasn’t in your bed. He wasn’t home. He was back in Trauma One. Back watching them do compressions. Back seeing blue lips and cold skin.

“Michael.”

His eyes found you. And something inside him shattered. Completely. He covered his face.

“Oh God.”

His voice broke.

“Oh God.”

“Baby.”

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t stop shaking.

“I’m sorry.”

“Michael.”

“I thought…” His breathing hitched. “I thought…”

He stopped. His eyes filling. And suddenly this giant, brilliant, fifty-year-old man looked younger than you’d ever seen him. Terrified. Vulnerable. Human.

“I thought I dreamed you.”

Your heart stopped.

“What?”

His voice cracked.

“I wake up sometimes and…”

Tears spilled down his cheeks.

“And I think maybe none of this is real.”

You stared.

“And then I can’t breathe because I think maybe I fell asleep in that chair and you never woke up.”

A sob escaped him.

“And this…”

His hand gestured wildly.

“Us.”

His voice broke.

“The apartment.”

Another tear.

“Dinner.”

Another.

“You.”

He laughed shakily.

“I think maybe I imagined all of it because I couldn’t survive losing you.”

You climbed into his lap immediately. Your legs straddled his hips beneath the blankets. Your arms wrapped around his neck. And his hands instantly settled around your waist. Large. Warm. Familiar. You kissed away the tears on his cheeks.

“Michael.”

His eyes closed.

“You are not dreaming.”

His forehead rested against yours.

“I know.”

“No.”

You kissed him softly.

“Look at me.”

Dark eyes opened. God. You loved those eyes. Loved the gray in his beard. Loved the lines beside his mouth. Loved the man who had somehow become your safest place.

“You are not dreaming.”

His hand trembled against your back.

“You promise?”

The question destroyed you. Not because it was irrational. Not because it was silly. Because it was honest. And because this proud, stubborn man trusted you enough to ask. So you smiled. And wrapped his hand around your heart.

“Feel that?”

His eyes never left yours.

“Yes.”

“I’m here.”

His throat worked.

“I’m here.”

His fingers tightened.

“You’re here.”

“I love you.”

And Michael Robinavitch finally smiled. Small. Beautiful. The smile that belonged only to you.

“I know.”

You laughed softly.

“You know?”

His eyes warmed.

“Sweetheart, after everything, I know.”

You kissed him. Slowly. Tenderly. And something changed. Not desperation. Not fear. Peace. Because this wasn’t making up. This wasn’t surviving. This was choosing each other again. His hands slid up your back as he held you closer, forehead resting against yours, dark eyes full of so much love it almost hurt.

“Can I tell you something embarrassing?”

You smiled.

“When have I ever stopped you?”

His laugh rumbled against your lips.

“I’ve been very patient.”

“Mm.”

“Extremely patient.”

“Have you?”

“Heroic, really.”

You giggled.

“Michael.”

His eyes darkened with warmth and affection.

“No, hear me out.”

His nose brushed yours.

“I watched my wife nearly die.”

His voice softened.

“I spent three days looking like Tom Hanks in Cast Away.”

You laughed.

“I cried on Langdon.”

“Poor Frank.”

“I terrified Dana.”

“You did.”

“I offended Mel.”

“You survived.”

“And somehow, after all of that…”

His thumb brushed your cheek. His smile turned crooked.

“And after months of behaving like a Victorian widow…”

His voice lowered.

“Do you know what I missed most?”

You blushed immediately.

“Michael Robinavitch.”

“What?”

His grin widened.

“I’m serious.”

“Michael.”

His forehead touched yours again.

“I missed kissing you.”

Another kiss.

“I missed holding you.”

Another.

“I missed hearing you laugh.”

Another.

“And sweetheart…”

His voice dropped into something deep and intimate.

“I missed my wife.”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. And the smile that spread across his face was boyish. Tender. Madly in love.

“Throw an old man a bone.”

You burst out laughing.

“Old man?”

“Gray beard.”

“Distinguished.”

“Ancient knees.”

“Still handsome.”

“Questionable back.”

“Very handsome.”

His eyes sparkled.

“So you’re saying I still have a chance?”

You kissed him again. Slowly. Lovingly. The man beneath your hands was not perfect. Neither were you. But perhaps perfection had never been the point. Love was. Choosing one another was. Growing old together was.

And later…

Later had come. It had come in ordinary Tuesdays and bad takeout and nightmares and healing and laughter and kisses stolen in kitchens. Later had come in silver hairs and quiet mornings and sleepy embraces. Later had come. And wrapped safely in the arms of the man who had loved you fiercely enough to break and brave enough to heal, you smiled against his mouth. Because for the rest of your lives, no matter how many years God granted you, one truth would remain. Michael Robinavitch was your home.

Across the desk, Lena caught your eye. But she looked at you with the expression of someone watching a romantic tragedy unfold in real time. She nudged the resident next to her, who glanced up, saw you, and immediately checked his watch.

"Any minute now," Lena murmured softly.

"What happens at any minute?" you asked, your voice raspy.

Before Lena could answer, Dr. Jack Abbot walked out from a trauma bay. The second his eyes scanned the floor and landed on you, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The entire nursing station went quiet.

You didn't notice.

You just thought everyone was as tired as you were.

Jack handed the papers he had on his hands to a passing intern without looking and detoured straight toward you.

"Hey," he said. "You look like you're about to collapse into the desk."

"I'm fine, Dr. Abbot," you breathed. "Just trying to finish up a discharge."

Jack looked at the dark circles under your eyes, the slight tremble in your hand, and the absolute exhaustion radiating from you.

A protective frown line appeared between his brows.

"Lena," Jack said, his eyes never leaving your face. "Who is covering the east wing for the next hour?"

"Dr. Langdon’s doing night shift today," Lena replied instantly, a small smirk playing on her lips. "And I can handle the paperwork. Go ahead, Abbot."

"Great. You're off the clock for sixty minutes," Jack told you, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Breakroom. Now."

You blinked, panic instantly cutting through your fatigue. You stood up on shaky legs, your heart hammering against your ribs as you followed him down the hallway.

Behind your back, Lena silently handed a five dollar bill to a nurse. “Told you he’d break protocol to get her off her feet before 2 AM,” she whispered.

Unaware of the betting pool you were currently central to, you walked into the breakroom. He closed the door behind you.

"Dr. Abbot, if I made a mistake on the trauma intake—"

"Oh, no, no," Jack interrupted gently, putting a hand out to stop you. "You didn't make a mistake. You've been on your feet for five hours, non stop, after days of fever. This is an intervention."

He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a protein bar along with a bottle of water, and placed them on the table.

"Take a break," he commanded softly.

You took the food and sank down onto the sofa; the relief of finally sitting up was so intense it made your head spin. Jack stepped out for a second and returned with a jacket in his hand. Without a word, he placed it on your lap. It was warm and smelled of his cologne.

"Jack, I can't sleep, I have patients," you whispered, using his first name only because the walls of the room felt like a safe haven. "It looks bad. The other residents..."

Jack chuckled and sat down in one of the chairs, elbows resting on his knees. "Let them talk. I’m the attending. If anyone has a problem with me making sure my best resident doesn't faint on a patient, they should talk to me."

Jack's gaze was entirely focused on you. He wanted to reach out, to pull you against him and tell you that he’d carry the weight of the whole hospital if it meant you could rest.

But he didn't. He kept his hands to himself, clamping down on the feelings he'd been harboring for months. You were his resident; there were lines he couldn't cross, no matter how much his chest ached every time he saw you smile or, worse, saw you cry.

"Eat. Drink. Rest for an hour at least," Jack said, his voice a low, soothing anchor. "I'll be out there handling everything. Nobody is going to disturb you."

"Thank you, Jack," you murmured, tearing open the wrapper with clumsy fingers. You looked up at him. "You're a really amazing mentor. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jack's heart did a painful twist. Mentor.

He offered you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just doing my job. Get some rest."

He left the room and crossed paths with Frank as he reached the central desk. Frank glanced at him sideways, letting out a sigh.

"You've got it bad, Abbot," Frank whispered. "You know the entire night shift is currently running a pool on when you're actually going to tell her, right?"

Jack’s jaw tightened, his cheeks flushing slightly. "She's exhausted Leave it alone, Langdon."

"I'm just saying, the girl is brilliant, but she’s medically blind to the fact that you look at her like she hung the moon," Frank countered with a smirk. "You're going to have to spell it out for her. Preferably after she graduates residency."

"She needs to focus on her career. She doesn't need the complication of an attending crossing lines," Jack said. "And right now, she just needs a safe place to rest. That’s all I’m giving her."

Frank stared at him for a second. He patted Jack on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Jack. A miserable, pining man, but a good one. I'll cover her for the next hour."

"Thanks," Jack muttered.

At 7:30 AM, you were waiting for the day shift to finish taking report. You reached into your scrubs pocket for a pen, only to realize you were wearing Jack’s jacket. You smiled faintly, the scent of him clinging to the fabric.

"Alright, pay up," a loud whisper hissed from around the corner of the desk.

You paused, your hand still on the zipper of the jacket.

Lena was holding her palm out toward Mateo. He was grumbling under his breath as he fished a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and slapped it into her hand.

"I still say it’s cheating," Mateo complained. "You had inside information."

"I didn't have inside information, I have eyes and know how to bet," Lena countered smoothly, pocketing the cash. "He didn't just give her a nap break; he gave her his jacket."

You blinked, standing entirely still. His jacket?

Slowly, you stepped around the corner. "Is there a problem with Dr. Abbot''s jacket?"

Both Lena and Mateo froze. Mateo immediately looked down at the clipboard, suddenly fascinated by a trauma intake form.

"I definitely didn't say anything about a bet." Lena said. "Aren't you leaving? It's 7:30 already."

"Lena," you said, your eyebrows knitting together as you looked between her and the dollar bill sticking out of her pocket. "What bet? Were you guys betting on this jacket?"

"Oh, honey. Not just the jacket," Lena said, leaning her elbows on the counter and looking at you with a mixture of affection and disbelief. "We’ve been betting on the entire ecosystem of your life for the last four months."

"My life? Why?"

Lena let out a laugh. She looked at Mateo. "She’s serious. She really doesn't know."

"Know what?" you asked, a sudden spike of anxiety hitting your stomach. "Did I do something? Is there a rumor about me?"

Lena’s expression softened instantly. Seeing your genuine panic, she reached across the desk and gently patted your arm. "Hey, no. It’s not a bad rumor. It’s just... sweetie, how can someone so brilliant in the trauma bay be so blind?"

You stared at her, completely lost. "Blind to what?"

Lena sighed, shaking her head. "To Dr. Abbot, darling. To Jack."

The name made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to keep your face completely neutral. "What about Dr. Abbot? He’s a great attending. He’s incredibly supportive of my residency—"

"He is completely wrapped around your finger," Lena interrupted bluntly.

Your jaw tightened slightly. "What? No, he’s not. He’s just a mentor. He does things for everyone."

"Oh, really?" Mateo chimed in, unable to keep quiet any longer. "He didn't bring me a specific brand of protein bar last week just because I said I liked it."

"And the jacket," Lena pointed to the one you were currently wearing. "Jack Abbot is very serious when it comes to his personal stuff. I once saw a medical student accidentally knock a smoothie onto that exact jacket, and Jack looked like he was going to perform an unanesthetized appendectomy on the kid. And tonight he literally tucked you in with it."

You looked down at the jacket, your mind racing, replaying a dozen different interactions over the last few months.

The way he always happened to be near the desk when your shift ended.

The way his voice grew remarkably quiet and gentle whenever he spoke to you, completely different from his sharp and commanding attending persona.

The way he’d look at you when he thought you weren't paying attention.

"Everyone knows," Lena said softly. "Nurses, residents, security staff. We actually have a timeline. Langdon put twenty bucks on 'After Graduation,' but I’m rooting for you two to figure it out by the end of the month."

"He... he has a crush on me?" you breathed, the words feeling entirely surreal on your tongue.

"Crush is a word for teenagers, sweetie," Lena said, looking at you with a gentle smile. "What Jack Abbot has for you is a profound case of being completely gone. He’s just too much of a gentleman, and too worried about crossing professional lines, to tell you himself."

Your hands gripped the edge of Jack's jacket, the warmth of it suddenly feeling entirely different. It felt like a protective shield of a man who was desperately trying to take care of you from a distance.

--

For days, you were a walking disaster of nervous energy and Jack noticed every single second of it.

Whenever he walked into a room, you suddenly found a patient chart that desperately needed your attention across the floor.

When you handed him a suture kit in the trauma bay, your fingers brushed, and you jumped as if you’d been zapped by a defibrillator.

You couldn't look him in the eye for more than two seconds without your face turning red.

A week later, the tension was unbearable. Jack was quietly losing his mind, convinced he had somehow crossed a line or made you uncomfortable during your shift.

Needing air, Jack retreated to the roof, the only place in the hospital where the noise couldn't reach him. The cool wind whipped at his scrub shirt as he leaned against the metal railing, his mind completely consumed by thoughts of you.

The door to the roof groaned open.

Jack turned, his breath catching when he saw you step out. You were holding his jacket tightly against your chest.

"Hey," Jack said softly. He took a step toward you, his eyes scanning your face, filled with worry.

"Lena said you came up here," you breathed, the wind catching your hair.

Jack stopped a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep from reaching out to you. "Look, we need to talk. You’ve been... avoiding me? For days. If I did something to upset you, or if I made you uncomfortable by putting my jacket on you the other night, I need you to tell me. I’ll back off. I swear I will. Just please tell me what’s wrong between us."

The panic in his eyes broke the dam. You gripped his jacket tighter, took a sharp breath, and the words just tumbled out of you.

"It makes me nervous being around you because you like me and I like you and they have a bet about you with me, did you know that?"

Jack froze. He stared at you, his brain completely stalling out as he tried to process the words that had just exploded from your mouth.

"I... what?" Jack stammered.

"The nurses! And residents! And even security!" you blurted out, your face burning so hot it made your cheeks hurt. "They bet on what time you’d kick me out of the floor to take a break, they bet on when you’d give me your jacket, and they told me you bought a specific protein bar for me, and Langdon has twenty dollars on us figuring it out after I graduate!"

You stopped to gasp for air. "I didn't know, Jack. I swear. But now I do, and every time you look at me I forget how to read a lab report, and it just makes me so nervous because I do like you, and I didn't think you liked me back, and now I know everyone in the whole hospital is watching us and can't even look at you without blushing."

Silence fell over the roof, save for the sound of traffic below.

You squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly wishing the roof would open up and swallow you whole.

Great.

You just broke the professional boundary.

And sounded like a lunatic doing it.

Then, you heard him.

You opened your eyes. Jack was smiling. He let out a disbelieving laugh, his frown completely vanishing. What Langdon said the other day, "preferably after she graduates", kept echoing in his head for a couple of days.

"Frank put twenty on it?" Jack asked.

"That’s the part you’re focusing on?!" you wailed, hiding your burning face into his jacket.

Jack closed the distance between you. He grasped your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. You looked up and his soft eyes made your knees weak.

"No," Jack whispered, his thumbs softly tracing the inside of your wrists, his gaze dropping to your lips before locking back onto your eyes. "That’s not the part I’m focusing on."

He took a deep breath, stepping even closer.

"You like me?" he asked, as if he needed to hear the words clearly just to believe they were real.

"Yes," you whispered, feeling nervous and a little dizzy. "I like you, Jack."

"Good," Jack murmured, his hands sliding up from your wrists to cup your face, his palms warm against your cheeks. "I like you, too. Langdon was right. I am completely gone over you. I’ve been trying to be the responsible attending, keeping my distance because I didn't want to complicate your residency. But it has been absolute torture."

"So... you're not mad about the betting pool?" you asked softly, staring into his eyes.

Jack laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down, his forehead gently resting against yours.

"Oh, I'm furious!" Jack joked, his warm breath against your skin. "Especially because Frank made a bet about not having the guts to tell you I like you before you graduate. We're going downstairs, I'm going to kiss you right in front of them and make sure Lena gets all the credit."

You let out a soft laughter, the tension completely evaporating into the cool night air.

"Wait," you murmured, your hands finding their way to the lapels of his scrub shirt. "If you kiss me in front of them now, Frank loses his twenty bucks, sure, but Lena wins. And as much as I love her, she's been smug about this for days. Want her to suffer a little bit."

Jack paused, a spark lit up his dark eyes. "You want to see Lena loose her mind? You're evil," Jack whispered. "An absolute menace."

"I learned from the best attending in the hospital," you countered softly.

"Alright," Jack agreed, his hands sliding from your cheeks down to your waist, pulling you against him. "We keep it a secret a few days. No hand holding, no extra protein bars, and absolute professionalism in front of them."

"Deal," you smiled. "But, can you kiss me now? There aren't any cameras up here."

"No, there aren't." He didn't hesitate and leaned down, putting one of his hand on your chin to capture your lips. His hands held you firmly, securely, as if he were making sure you wouldn't walk away from him. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, completely lost in him.

When he pulled back, his breathing was shallow, and your eyes were shining. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away.

"Keep the jacket," Jack murmured, as he looked down at the jacket still clutched between your chests. "Looks good on you, baby."

You blushed and bit your lip as you walked back towards the rooftop door, Jack's fingers intertwined with yours for a moment, before he let go and took a step back to let you through the door first.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Best friends

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“Food’s ready!!” You yelled for them to come out of their room. 

“Smells fucking delicious” Robby said as he walked into the kitchen, throwing on a T-shirt. “How do you find the time to study, work and cook?”

“I’ve gotta get fuelled up somehow” you shrugged casually as you plated up the meal. “And it’s only a bolognese, it’s hardly cooking”

Jack had now walked into the kitchen, also putting on a T-shirt. You smirked as you said, “What were you two doing?” 

They both replied in sync, “nothing”.

“How was work today?” Jack asked as he prepared the table. “Exams are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Ugh, don't remind me!” You shot back. “The attending we had today was an asshole”

“Hey, that was me!” Robby put his hands up in the air, “it’s not my fault you couldn’t do the procedure”

You sighed as you dropped your shoulders and walked over to the table quietly. Jack said softly, putting one hand on your back, “What procedure was it?”

You mumbled, leaning into him, “A pericardiocentesis”

“You attempted one?" he smiled, "That’s amazing!”

Robby yelled from the kitchen, “I keep telling her that, but she’s grumpy as fuck that it didn’t go as planned”

You sat at the table abruptly and ate food in silence. Jack tried his best to make conversation with you, but you were having none of it. He kicked Robby under the table, tilting his head in your direction, and he mouthed ow. 

“How can I make it better?” Robby asked.

“You can’t” you stabbed your fork onto the plate, “no one can”

Robby put his hand out on yours, gesturing for you to stop stabbing the spaghetti. “You’re a med student who attempted a procedure not even a resident can do. You’ll get another shot”

You nodded, then few moments later you say,

“I’m overreacting, I know”

“You have every right to” Jack added, “working with Robby must be hell”

Working with Robby was nowhere near hell. It was awesome because he was awesome. He was a fantastic mentor: positive, supportive, and always ready with encouragement when things got tough. He had this way of making even the most stressful days feel manageable. The extra bit of attention and guidance he gave you had definitely worked in your favour. 

Robby flicked spaghetti at Jack, and you all laughed. Soon, everything was forgotten about. 

“She’s our baby so I hope you’re being nice to her at work” Jack nudged Robby as they cleared the plates.

“I’m too nice to her; if anything, the favouritism is too obvious,” Robby whispered, “She’s the best one there, and I keep reminding her of that”

They both watched you as you sat on the couch and put on a movie, knowing full well that twenty minutes into it, you’d be fast asleep. What you didn't know was that each of them secretly hoped you'd end up in their arms that night.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

After a long day of studying and working, you made it over to their apartment. In a bad mood, tired, and achy, you found the apartment empty and sighed in relief. 

You put on music, opened a bottle of wine, courtesy of their expensive taste and slowly moved to the rhythm of the music playing in the background. But what you hadn’t noticed was that Jack was standing outside his bedroom, watching you quietly, with a familiar smirk on his face. 

“You’ve been home this whole time!” you exclaimed as you paused the music.

“I was enjoying the show” he teased. “Also, I was sleeping.”

“Shit! Sorry,” you bit the inside of your cheek. “I thought no one was here.”

“How was your day?” Jack asked casually as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“Very fucking bad” you said, walking over to him. “I don’t think I’ll ever become a doctor.”

“You’ll be a brilliant doctor, no doubt in that”

“I don't think so…”

He leaned against the table, and you stood too closely in front of him. “What’s a petroclival meningioma?”

“A rare but benign tumour, usually at the base of the skull.”

“Correct” he took a sip of his wine, wrapping one arm around your waist as he pulled you closer, “What’s a cholecystectomy?”

“Easy. removal of gallbladder”

“See?” You’ll be fine!” 

“That was two questions, Abbot.”

He shrugged. “Better than me, I had no idea what a petroclival meningioma was. I saw it somewhere on a chart yesterday.”

You tipped your head back and laughed at him. Jack put the music back on, and this time he joined. He took your hand and twirled you around, wine splashing everywhere, hair covering your face, and as you tumbled and stopped, he pulled you against him. He whispered against your lips, “You’re gonna be the best doctor there ever is.”

You managed a small nod, trying not to think of his body pressed against yours. The moment was interrupted by the buzz of his phone; he muttered an apology as he picked up the call.

“We have a problem,” Jack said as he walked back in. “Robby’s bringing a girl here, and we need to find alternate accommodation for the night.”

“Oooooh spicy” you winked, “I have my dorm room but it—“

“Let’s go!” Jack clapped his hands together before walking into his bedroom. 

You grabbed the half-opened bottle of wine, along with another one, and drove over to your dorm. The corridor was lined up with students, drinking, smoking and partying, but more importantly, eyeing Jack up and down.  Jack loved the attention, but he loved his friend more, so he quickly swung one arm over your shoulder and pulled you in closely. Your dorm room was small, with a single bed in the corner. 

“Is it like this every night?” 

“Mostly yeah” you shrugged as you took off your shoes, before dropping your bag to the floor. 

“You should move in with us, sweetheart — it doesn’t feel safe.”

You sat on the bed, back against the wall, as you poured the wine into a mug. “I already spend most of my days at yours anyway.” 

“Why are you still in the dorm? Isn’t that usually for first and second years?”

You felt your cheeks flush and didn’t look him in the eye. Jack joined you on the bed, this time drinking straight from the bottle. 

“I can’t afford anything else” you said faintly, “So when I spoke to med school… they let me stay here. I had to submit finances and so much paperwork to prove that it’s either this or living in a car.” 

Jack hated that you were in this situation, and was even more bothered that he didn’t find out sooner. “We’ll get a bigger apartment — one in which you have your own room. So you don’t sleep on the couch anymore.”

You also always ended up in one of their beds anyway. It was innocent and mainly for a cuddle, but the couch was always a final option. You loved your closeness with them. You felt taken care of and loved, so what else could you ask for?

You shifted over, crossing your legs as you faced him. “I can’t afford to pay you, Jack. And Robby might not be okay with it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” he smirked. “And Robby will be more than happy for you to live with us.”

You set the mug on the desk and leaned into him for a hug; Jack did not hesitate to pull you against him and gently onto his lap. 

The bed was small, the room was cold, and the dorm was loud. But there was no better feeling than being nestled in his arms, feeling his warmth, smelling his perfume as you fell asleep. 

Jack stuck to his word, and you all moved into a bigger apartment. You couldn’t afford to pay them rent, so you cooked for them, meal-prepped for their long shifts, cleaned and maintained whatever mess they created. 

It worked. It was easy. It was fun. They were supportive.

They were your best friends, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Best friends

Unlabelled

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

People had warned you that you can never be friends with a guy and it not being sexual, and you tried to prove them wrong. 

But somewhere along the way, you fell in love. With the relationship, the dynamic, and the structure of how your friendship was built. What began as platonic cuddles during movie nights and at sleepovers had slowly grown more intimate. The casual touches lingered, and the hugs lasted longer, neither one wanting to pull away. 

It didn’t turn sexual for the longest time — and in all the time you had known them, only one incident had occurred.

One night, heartbroken over a childish guy, while your residency was kicking your ass, you drank your sorrows and tried to forget everything. But somehow it made things clearer for you.  

“Robby” you cried on the phone, “he broke up with me”

“Where are you?”

“Bar” you cried, “I lost everyone - they’re all drunk, and I’m alone and-“

“I’ll be there in five. Don’t move, and stay on the line.” 

You called Robby first because there was no one else to turn to but the person you loved so much. The guy who broke your heart did not deserve you — and you knew that. You deserved love and friendship, similar to what you had with Robby and Jack. 

So, as you stood outside waiting in the cold, for your best friend to pick you up, you made a decision. 

The moment Robby pulled up outside the bar, you ran over to him. Instead of the usual hug, you jumped straight into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He caught you instinctively, hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady. Your forehead rested against his as you whispered, voice shaky but certain, “I need you to make me forget tonight. Can you do that?”

Robby quickly nodded.

You leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t awkward or hesitant — it was comforting, familiar, and full of everything you’d been holding back. The kind of kiss that felt like coming home.

“Take me home, please” 

To your surprise, Robby didn’t protest it after he checked and double-checked that this was what you wanted. The sex later that night was messy, quick and extremely, extremely hot. But the morning after, you and Robby decided it would not happen again.

“That was weird” you said quietly as you looked over at a very naked Robby next to you.

“Let’s not do that again?” He laughed gently as he pulled you towards him.

You cuddled up next to him and whispered, “Never. Thank you, though. It was exactly what I needed.” You then stayed quiet for a moment, taking it all in, processing it, and moving forward from it. “You gotta tell Jack.” 

“Hell no!” Robby snapped teasingly. “That’s your problem.”

“Fuck” you rubbed your tired and sore eyes, “what do you think he’ll say?”

But neither of you needed to tell him, because Jack walked into the bedroom. 

“Oh shit” you muttered as you hid under the sheets, “It’s not what you think!”

Jack stood by the door, confused but also… jealous. “You had sex—“

Robby cut in, “Yes! Yes, we did. Sorry, we—“

“Without me?” Jack’s voice cracked.

“Uh….” You looked over at Robby, confused. 

Jack got under the sheet next to you and muttered, “fuckers”

You then let out a laugh that was so contagious that all three of you were laughing, for all the apartment complex to hear. 

Robby said, “There are too many naked bodies under these sheets, so Abbot do us a favour and grab us a change of clothes.”

“Oh, there is no way I’m doing that,” he scoffed, “I’m gonna sit here and watch you two try and find anything to cover up with.”

Robby was the first one to get out of bed. He paraded his naked ass, then grabbed his boxers on the way out while giving Jack the middle finger.

“You slept with Robby?” Jack whispered. 

You pulled the duvet over your face and said, “We’re never doing it again. Or speaking of it.” 

Jack stayed quiet as he poked your cheek through the sheets 

“Jay dumped me last night, and I got too drunk,” you confessed, feeling yourself get slightly embarrassed as you slowly pulled the duvet down, “and I just wanted to feel loved, and taken care of, so… here we are.”

Jack gave you a small smile as he rested his hand on your cheeks, moving your hair out of your face. 

“Say something” you said softly. 

His hands found your hips, and you shifted towards him. You felt your breathing quicken as Jack’s hand rested on your cold, naked body. Your heart hammered in your chest as he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to your forehead. You whispered, “Are you okay?”

He whispered back, “Never better”.

He took off his jumper and gave it to you before leaving the bed. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Jack woke up with a bad feeling one day, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake off that something was wrong.  He had texted you first thing, and you assured him everything was fine. Robby was at work, and he was also safe and sound.  

“Apparently, you scared the nightshift staff” Robby said to Jack that morning, “What’s up with you today?’

Jack shook his head, “not sure. I have a bad gut feeling.”

“About who?”

“That I can’t pinpoint.”

“Did you check in on her?” 

“She said she’s coming in for her shift as usual.” Jack said quietly, watching the ambulance bay doors, “Once she’s here, i’m gonna head home”

He paced, glancing over at the ambulance bay door every few minutes, expecting a trauma call. 

And his gut feeling was right. It always was. 

First, he heard yelling, but it wasn’t anyone’s. It was yours. His head snapped in your direction, and you were covered in blood — head to toe — as you walked through the ambulance bay doors. 

“I need help!” you yelled and Robby was the one to be by your side in a split second. Jack on the other hand, froze.

“Male, maybe in his 40s. His throat has been slashed open, Robby” you said shakily, “I’ve applied pressure as much as I could until someone found me gauze. uh… shit I uh..” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart” Robby said, “keep that pressure for a second longer, okay?”

“He cut his throat open, and I was there”, you muttered, “I applied pressure as much as I could and…”

Robby watched as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, fighting the dizziness and trying to remember what you were about to say. 

After what felt like the longest time, Jack’s legs allowed him to move, and he walked towards the room slowly. That gut feeling had turned into extreme nausea, as he anticipated the worst.

“A guy had a knife, and he just stabbed his neck” you repeated, “I didn’t have anything to uh… to stop.. the blood. So much blood.”

“Abbot, she’s in shock” Robby said quickly before turning over to you, “Move your hands, on my count, ready?”

“The blood is everywhere” you looked up at Robby, still confused, “it kept pouring out and I had nothing to stop it with.”

Robby barked, “Abbot, can you pull her way, please? I’ve got this.”

Jack wrapped his arms around you, gently pulling you away from the patient’s neck. “I’ve got you, it’s okay”

“There’s so much blood” you turned around to face him. Your face was smeared in blood. It looked like you had tried to wipe it off but instead, you made it worse. “He kept bleeding, and I couldn’t stop it and -“

au“He’s alive because of you.” Jack said softly, “he’s here becuase you helped him”

You nodded shakily. 

“Can I check you over? Make sure you’re not hurt?”

“The blood — i don’t know if it’s mine? is it mine?” You looked down at yourself.

“Did the guy hurt you? with the knife?”

You looked back at the room where Robby and the team worked on the patient. You frowned, “I can’t remember, why can’t I remember?”

Jack took you to an empty room, shutting the blinds and closing the door. You stood leaning against the wall, staring at the bloody floor.

He helped you take off your clothes, one piece at a time. The blood had soaked through your clothes and stained your skin, but Jack couldn’t see that any injuries on you. His hand shook as he trailed over your skin, feeling for any cuts. No amount of wipes was going to remove this blood off you. He paced as he waited for your stats to pop up on the screen. He saw that you stared at the white wall while he sat you on the bed. “He didn’t hurt you” he whispered, “i can’t see that he did”

“He didn’t hurt me, but he stabbed the man and there was so much blood and I couldn’t stop it and—“

“Shhh” Jack pulled you against his chest, “let’s get you showered and changed, okay?” Jack helped you get in the shower, as you stared at the blood-stained water as it ran down the drain. Jack washed the blood off your face and out of your hair. 

He took you home that morning and put you to bed. 

“I can still smell it” you said softly, “is the blood still on me?”

“No, sweetheart, I washed it all off”

You let out a small whimper, “I can still feel it on my skin.”

“Would another shower help?” 

You shook your head. “Please, would you hold me?”

Jack gave you a small, sad, smile before he got in bed with you, held you as you cried. He stayed with you all day, until Robby got home, swapping places with him. 

48 hours passed, and you were in the same location. All you smelt was blood, all you felt was blood. 

Jack got in bed with you, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok” you slurred, “I think I’m over it”

“It’s okay if you’re not. Jack’s hand rested on your cheek. “Take all the time you need”

You moved up closer to him, resting your hand on his cheek. “Thank you”

“I didn’t do anything” Jack whispered, “You saved his life, that was all on you”

“No thank you for being here. For helping me shower, brushing my hair or topping up my water.”

“That’s the least I could do”

You leaned in slowly, hesitating at first, then kissed him — soft, slow, and too raw. Jack’s hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against him. The taste of lips was better than you ever imagined. You moaned very faintly at the way he kissed you back. You don’t remember how long you were there for, but you remembered that you no longer smelled blood or felt it. All you felt was love. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Best friends

Unlabelled

Back to being friends

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Years passed, and you never lost touch, even after you all went your separate ways for a while. You went off travelling, Robby stayed at PTMC, and Jack decided he wanted to join the army, which you protested and cried about. 

“Please don’t do it!” You sobbed and hiccuped as you stood in front of the door, blocking it. “Jack, please, you’re being stupid.”

“I need to do this. For me.” 

“What about me! And Robby!”

“I’ll be back, I promise you I’ll be back.”

You shook your head. “What if you don’t?”

He closed the distance between the two of you and gently brushed his fingers across your pink and wet cheek. “I’ve never broken a promise now, have I?”

You shook your head. 

You tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “If anything happens to you, I’ll never speak with you again.”

He let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him. “I love you.”

“I’m not saying it until you come back.”

And Jack certainly came back. Injured, emotionally damaged, physically scarred, but he was back. And you indeed told him how much you loved him, but also how stupid he was. 

Then, all three of you stayed in Pittsburgh. When you finally became an attending, you deliberately chose a different hospital, even though it was still emergency medicine. 

Despite everything, the three of you were inseparable. You were the glue that held them together, and you were their support system. You stayed with them through thick and thin, and they did the same. 

You were there for Jack’s PTSD, day and night, holding his hand as he screamed from phantom pains. You were there for the hospital appointments, the late-night phone calls, all of it. 

You were there as a shoulder to cry on whenever one of Robby’s relationships failed, with a takeout and a bad movie. You were there holding Robby’s hand the day Jack got married.

Years later, you were there holding Jack’s hand, at the same church where he got married, but this time for a funeral for the person he loved, married, then lost. 

But why were you there all the time?

Because they were your home. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“Another nightmare?” You asked Jack as you sat next to him on the bed at his apartment. 

“Mhm” he said quietly. 

“Anything I can do to help?”

He turned over and faced you, “You being here is more than enough.”

“Do you want to get out of the house? I can drive us anywhere you want.”

“Too tired.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I mean it.”

“Jack, is therapy helping at all? Because so far I’ve seen no progress.” 

He stayed quiet as he shifted over onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“You’ve not been going?!” you said as you moved closer, “you’ve stopped going to therapy! Are you stupid!”

“I’m done.” 

“No, you’re not!” You felt yourself choke up, “You can’t give up, do you hear me?” 

But Jack wasn’t listening because he was so far gone that even your tears and pleas wouldn’t change his mind. 

You shifted off the bed, but Jack grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“No!” You yelled as you cried, moving off the bed, “Let go of me! For once, you should think of me. Not you! You’re selfish, you know that?”

“How?” Jack asked quietly, much calmer than you. But that was his new self. Quiet, distant, careless. 

“Come find me when you find a reason to live.”

You shut the door loudly for everyone in the building to hear. 

Robby came over later that day, after you refused to let Jack into the spare bedroom at his apartment. You practically moved back in with him, so he’s taken care of.

“It’s me” Robby said. “Can I come in?”

You didn’t reply, but Robby came in anyway. He found you on the bed, tightly hugging a pillow to your chest as you watched the movie, My Girl. 

He kicked his shoes off and lay behind you. “This is a very sad movie”

“It’s the occasion for it” You muttered.

“That’s not true”

“He’s going to kill himself one day when I’m not paying attention.” You said as you shifted over to face Robby.  “And you — I’ve barely seen you or spoken to you because it’s all been about Abbot.”

“Don’t worry about me”

“But I do! I worry about both of you” 

“Come here” Robby pulled you against his chest, and this time you didn’t cry, because your tears had finally run out. 

“Room for one more?” Jack said, standing by the door.

“No” You barked. “Fuck off” 

Robby chuckled, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. 

You heard Jack’s crutches approach; he then joined in on the other side. Robby held Jack’s hand under the sheet and pressed it three times: i love you. A silent reminder that Robby wouldn’t survive without Jack, and you wouldn’t survive without Robby, and Jack wouldn’t survive without either of you, and well… it would be catastrophic if something were to happen. 

The only reason why Jack made progress with his mental health was that he almost destroyed yours and Robby’s in the process.  

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Best friends

Unlabelled

Back to being friends

More than best friends

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Jack texted you to say he won’t be able to come over as he was going to work late. You called him, insisting he'd leave but instead he broke down on the phone. Not even an hour later, you arrived at PTMC, walking through the familiar doors of the ambulance bay that you once walked through as a med student.

You saw staff leave as you walked in, which meant the night shift must be starting. 

“Well look who it is” Dana said, smiling.

“Dana!” you rushed over and hugged her. “it’s so good to see you!”

“Kid, how long has it been?”

“Thirteen years? Give or take? How have you been!”

“Shit” she chuckled, “this place is killing me”

You clicked your teeth together, “but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.. or something like that”

She laughed and shook her head. “Abbot’s in that room — i guess that’s who you’re looking for?”

You looked over at the room he was in and nodded. 

“Still together?”

“Together as in…” you teased. “Still best friends, yes. Robby too.”

“Best friends, you say,” she winked, giving a small, lazy smile “That’s what you all keep saying, but neither of you has been in a relationship since Jack’s late wife.”

But Jack was your best friend, and has been for years. You loved him too much, and he and Robby were the only men you ever needed. 

You blushed as you skipped to the room, “Bye, Dana!” 

Her words lingered in your mind longer than they should have. The term ‘together’ — what did it really mean to you? You thought your situation with Robby and Abbot was… more best friends, but not exactly lovers. 

Did you want it to be more? 

You could never answer that question. Or in fact, you were too scared to answer that question because the answer terrified you. You knew Jack would want more in a heartbeat, but you and Robby swore you’d never, ever, have sex again. So if anything were to change, how would the dynamic work? 

Jack had always been on your mind, since the day you slept with Robby. You experienced intimacy with Robby and wanted the same with Jack. A bit after dating too many guys, you always wished they were not themselves. More Robby or Abbot. 

You watched Jack through the glass doors and he did a double glance before realising it was you who was outside. He gestured for you to come, and you waved everyone a quick hello as you walked in. 

“Hey, sweetheart” Jack said quietly. He looked sad and tired, and looked exactly how he described his day.

“Hey Jacky” you nudged him as you stood by him.

He pointed at the screen, “What do you think?”

“There’s excess fluid around the pericardium” you said as you leaned towards the ultrasound screen, “ he needs a Pericardiocentesis!!” you said excitedly. 

Everyone in the room frowned at your reaction, and Jack chuckled. 

“wanna know how our first year residents here how it’s done?”

“And this time, unlike Robby, you will get it first go” you pointed at one of the doctors. 

Jack said, “Whitaker, you’re up. This is an ER attending physician at Westbridge Memorial Hospital, and also my best friend. She’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I need to clear my head,” he said before walking out of the room.

You put on gloves and said, “Okay, Whitaker, let’s do this. and try not to kill the patient.”

The other doctor, name read Santos, laughed. 

You slowly guided him through it, explaining what each step of the procedure is until he did it successfully..

Afterwards, you went looking for Jack, whom you found on the roof out of all places, on the other side of the railing. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you yelled. 

“Clearing my mind” he replied, looking over his shoulder.

“Can you clear it somewhere that isn’t close to death?” you replied shakily. 

Moments later, he moved away and back behind the barrier.

“What was that?” you muttered, “Do you do this — what daily?!”

He walked over slowly to you, hands in his pockets. 

“Say something!” 

“I don’t know why i do this! I don't know why I keep coming back!” he blurted out. 

“If it’s destroying you, then why do you do it?” you said sympathetically. “Leave Jack!”

“I’m not good at anything else”

“That’s a lie” you replied softly, “and you know that? You’re amazing at pretty much everything you do. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you”

Jack clicked his teeth together as he shook his head, not fully convinced. 

“Let’s go home? please? You’ve done almost 16 hours — they have another attending, they will survive”

“That’s the problem…” Jack replied, “I always think they won’t, but I guess life will move on and everyone will survive without me”

“What?” you whispered, “I won’t survive a day without you”

Jack took his hands out of his pockets and placed both hands on your face, thumbs gently brushing across.

“Abbot, what’s going on?” you breathed out shakily “I thought we were making progress”

He murmured softly “we are”.

“Liar,” you smiled, “promise me you won’t go anywhere near the edge. And if you are, you gotta take me with you.”

“I can't promise that”

You sighed. “Okay then. You can be miserable. But we’ve been down this road before, and you almost destroyed me in the process so I’m not doing this again.”

You would never not support him or leave him, but maybe a threat might get him to get help again.

Jack stayed quiet. 

“Okay. You can stay quiet. And I won't tell you about my date last night since you’re being all miserable and shit,” you shrugged as you stepped away from him, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back against him.

“You won't get away that easily.”

You giggled. “It was awful. He kissed with his teeth, I could still feel them on me” You pulled a nauseous face.

He mumbled, “I can make you forget him”

You smiled and nodded before Jack gave you a peck on the lips. “Is that better?”

“Gosh, it’s much better” you smiled. “Let’s go home pleaseee” 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

You let yourself into Robby’s apartment one evening after he didn’t answer your calls all day. 

“Robby! Are you okay?”

You called out again as you searched the rooms. “I’ve had a really bad day, and I need to talk to someone, pleaseeee!”

You opened the bedroom door, yelling, “Finally!” as you saw both Jack and Robby in bed. A smile spread across your face, “Are you guys naked?”

Jack was laying face down, arms spread across the bed, showing off his shoulder muscles and freckles. Robby, on the other hand, had his sleep mask on, lying slightly upwards. 

“Guys?” you approached slowly. “Do I need to know what happened?”

Robby gave you a thumbs up, while Jack slept heavily. You sat on the edge of the bed and poked Robby’s leg. “Michael??”

“We’re so fucking hungover” Robby muttered, “please give us a minute.”

“Is Jack breathing?”

Robby pulled his arm out slowly, attempting to take a pulse. He mumbled, “dunno”.

“I called you like a million times!” 

“I lost my phone, I think?” Robby took his sleep mask off. “Morning”

“It’s evening, actually? It’s almost 8pm”

“Shit” he rolled onto his side, putting the sleep mask back on. 

You crawled on the bed and sat next to Jack, poking him, “Abbot?”

No answer. 

“Abbot, please wake up”, you shook him. You leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I’m naked”

Jack cracked one eye open slowly, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Liar,” he mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep. 

You giggled, and Jack quickly pulled you against him, playfully tickling you as you screamed. “Jack — stop!” you shrieked as you laughed. 

“It’s so louuuud” Robby put his hands over his ears. “Kids, stop it”

But Jack was fully awake now and enjoying himself far too much. The two of you play-fought across the sheets until he finally got the upper hand. In one motion, he rolled you underneath him, wrapping his arms around you and pinning you tightly to his chest.

“Got you,” he murmured. He trailed kisses all over your face as you giggled softly. You melted into his cuddle. Robby let out one last dramatic groan before peeking out from under the sleep mask, clearly fighting a smile.

“I need food and a shower, no time for sleep”, you whispered.

“Shhhh” Jack whispered as he opened up his sleepy eyes, “I’m comfortable, and I could do with a cuddle and a kiss”

You untangled yourself from him, in an attempt to move, “I’ll be in the kitchen”

But before you moved away, he pulled you in again. “Seriously, dude?” 

Jack smiled as he nodded. “Can you stay here with me, please?”

“Fine” you sighed jokingly, although you were happy to be here, “Do I need to know what happened in the last 24 hours?”

“We don’t kiss and tell,” he winked.

“Will you two shut up!” Robby snapped. 

You giggled softly, and Abbot licked his lips before pulling you tightly against him. You rested your forehead on his, gently brushing your finger across his cheek, and after a few seconds of taking each other in, you leaned in and kissed him. Jack’s hand brushed through your hair as he pulled you closer. 

With a quiet shift of bodies and sheets, he rolled you over so you were nestled perfectly in the middle of them. You stayed facing Jack, lost in the kiss for what could have been minutes or longer. Behind you, Robby stirred, cuddling up against your back, his arm draped heavily over your waist. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

It was evening time when you started making dinner, and Robby was the first one to arrive. He, as always, brought over a nice bottle of wine. Adding to your very big collection, in which you didn’t drink quickly enough. 

“Hey sweetheart” he gave you a kiss on the cheek as he walked in. “What are you making?”

“Coq au vin”

“Coq a what now?” 

You laughed at him as you shook your head. “Google it.”

“Ehh, I’ll eat anything you make.”

You stood in the dimmed light kitchen as you drank the wine from the bottle Robby brought over, while dinner bubbled away in the oven.  It had been fifteen years since you first met them — fifteen years of being best friends. You watched Robby as he told you a story about what happened at work — but all you thought about was how lucky you were to have him in your life. 

Jack then arrived, late as always, with a big bouquet. 

“Abbot, are you wearing a shirt?” Robby said.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s nice”, you said as you kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for the flowers.”

“Hi, gorgeous,” he replied softly. “I thought, why not dress up?”

“Dress up?” Robby teased. After a few long seconds, it all made sense. “Hang on...”

“He had a date!” you yelled as you pointed at him. “Abbot was on a date!”

“No I wasn’t”, his tone was defensive “I definitely wasn’t!”

You walked over to him quickly, leaned in as you closed the distance. “Don’t lie.”

His breath hitched as he felt your body on his. With one quick movement, you swiped his phone from his pocket and ran away. 

“Give it back!” 

“Robby, hold him back!”

Robby quickly blocked Abbot’s path. “I can only stop him for so long. Have you seen his muscles?”

“Just… take off his leg or something!” you said as you unlocked his phone. 

Jack was now pushing him, trying to get his phone back. 

“Hang on… hang on. Okay, got i!” you said as you jumped up in excitement. “he was on a date with someone called… Louisa.”

“Do not opent our conversation!” Jack was trying to fight off Robby. “You’re gonna reg—“

“Oh nonono!!” you shrieked, “I’ve just seen a nude! Robby there’s a nude on here!!” 

You pointed the phone at Robby, and Jack finally managed to snatch it. “Assholes.”

“Whose nude was it?” Robby chuckled.

“Mine” Jack shook his head in disappointment. 

You stood in the corner, facing the wall as you felt heat creep up your chest. “I’m putting myself in time out.” 

Robby laughed so hard he had tears running down his face. Jack, on the other hand, stayed quiet throughout the dinner. You kept glancing over at him, and the image of him and his cock, was imprinted in your mind.

“Stop thinking about it!” Jack snapped teasingly. 

“But it’s….there” you said as you took a bite of your food, “and it’s… big!”

“I guess we are having Coq and well.. seen one” Robby said, then burst out laughing at his own joke.

You muttered to yourself, “fuckers.”

Clearly, you trained the boys well, because you managed to open another wine bottle as they cleaned up. Their friendship hadn’t changed since you met them. Despite everything they both had gone through, they always circled back to the same old habits. They bickered, laughed, and of course broke a dish. 

But you didn’t care. 

Because as you stared out of the window, for the first time in a long time, you wondered if this could last forever. If both of them, now in their fifties, will move on from you, leaving you all alone.

You had built your life around the two of them. And maybe, one day, they will leave you. Jack had now started dating again, but it upset you that he hadn’t mentioned it. He told you everything. 

“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Robby asked, standing behind you. You rested your head against his chest, and he quickly wrapped his arms around you. 

“It’s nothing, just tired.” 

“Sure?” 

You muttered, “mhm” as you felt yourself starting to cry. 

“Hey, c’mon, what’s wrong?”

You managed to choke out, “are you ever gonna leave me?”

“Never” Robby says quickly, “what makes you say that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet.”

Robby stayed quiet, and you did too as you both looked at the city in front of you. Jack stood back in the kitchen, cleaning up after Robby, watching you two be tangled in each other’s arms. Jack, despite how much he fought it, was always jealous of what you two had.

“Hey, asshole, these dishes won’t clean themselves” he said, interrupting your moment.  

“Sorry, Abbot gotta go,” he said, walking back towards the kitchen. “Early start tomorrow.”

“Always with an excuse”, Jack muttered to himself.

Robby squeezed Jack’s neck as he stood by him in the kitchen “Are we still on for tomorrow?” 

“Is she not coming with us?”

“Nope. She’s working late” Robby then leaned in and quietly said, “Be gentle with her tonight. She’s been crying and won’t tell me why.”

Jack nodded. Hw may have had a feeling why. 

Robby left, leaving you still standing in the same spot, still drinking the same glass of wine. Your tears had now stopped, but the anxiety in your chest and fear of being alone were still there.

You heard Jack’s footsteps, and you took a deep breath in, bracing yourself for whatever speech he had prepared for you. 

He stood in Robby’s exact spot, but this time you didn’t lean back into him. You kept your distance — because the difference was, Jack had now started dating again. Meaning the boundary was back; this invisible line was now redrawn, and you wouldn’t overstep. Ever. 

The words came out almost as a whisper, his voice gravely and low, “Do you want to tell me why you’re upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

“And I’m mentally stable” he joked. 

But you didn’t laugh. Instead, you let out a sob and quickly silenced it by putting one hand over your mouth. Jack didn’t hesitate to then pull you in for a hug. His big arms wrapped around you, and you buried your face in his chest. You smelt his perfume; the chosen smell for the date he had been on.

“No, no” you pulled away from him. “We can’t- I can’t do… this”

Jack threw his hands out, “Hey, do what?” 

“You- me , this whatever this is”

“Sweetheart, it’s a hug- what’s the problem?”

You raised your voice, unwillingly, but your emotions were now clouding your words. “The problem is you’re dating Jack and i- i should be happy and supportive but instead i’m sad and scared.” you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, “i’m scared you’re going to fall in love with this Louisa, and Robby will finally go on that sabbatical he keeps talking about and i will be all alone!”

“That will never happen” Jack said quietly. “Ever.”

“It’s happened before!” You choked out the words through tears. “You two have left — you dated, got married, and I was always here. Waiting for both of you to come back”

 You sniffled and fought back another sob. “I’m scared I’ll be alone, Jack”

Jack tilted his head at you and gave you a shy smile. “I’m not going to fall in love with Louisa, because we have nothing in common. She’s the only woman I’ve spoken with in a very long time.” 

You said quietly, “Okay”

“And I have no intention of being with any other woman. You’re the only one that’s been in my life for the longest time, and that’s how i want it to be.”

“But that’s not fair on you or—“

“Not fair how?”

The words caught in your throat. “I- I’m your friend. Best friend even. But I can’t give you everything you want - do you really want that? forever?”

“If that’s what it means to have you in my life, then yes”

A shiver ran down your spine, and your skin tingled. “Are you sure?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He shot you a crooked grin. “You’re the one who’s younger than me, and still has her whole life ahead of her. And I’m the one who can’t give you everything you want, so do you want to be in whatever this is?”

You nodded. “I’m happy with the way things are.” A small lie.

“Me too, sweetheart” another lie from Jack. “How about we call it a day?”

“Will you stay in bed with me?”

“Of course I will” Jack reassured you, “I won’t be going anywhere.”

By the time you got into bed, you had somewhat recovered from your talk with Jack until he got in your bed, in his boxers and nothing else, and you couldn’t stop thinking about his nude. You tossed and turned, flicked the covers off, then got too cold so you got back under. 

Jack murmured, his voice rough from sleep. “Are you running a marathon in your sleep?

“I can’t sleep”

“No shit” Jack grumbled, stating the obvious “Anything I can do to help?

Yes. “No” 

“Do you want some hot milk?”

“I’m not five”

“That always worked in med school?” he shifted up, fully awake. “What’s on your mind?”

You. “Nothing.” 

He leaned just a little closer, and your pulse jumped. “Do you want me to read you a bedtime story?”

“When have you ever done that?” You smirked, teasing. 

“I’m just trying to help.” Jack cleared his throat. “Oh.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his little oh. 

“You’re still thinking about it?”

You whispered, “i can’t help it!”

“Will it help if you saw it again?”

Yes. “No! Oh my God, no!”

“Okay, again, just trying to help”

You looked up at him as he sat against the headboard. The soft light from the city outside was peeking through the curtains, enough for you to see the outline of Jack’s naked body. 

You breathed. “Good night, Abbot.” 

“Good night, gorgeous.” 

The next 24 hours, all you did was try and forget what you saw and how you felt. Fifteen years of burried emotions for the both of them, and all of a sudden they all started to appear. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Best friends

Unlabelled  

Back to being friends

More than best friends

Unlabelled relationship 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Jack and Robby video called you multiple times during their drunken night out. They begged for you to join them but after doing a 16 hour shift, the last thing you wanted was a drink and loud music.

The loud ring tone was what woke you up, followed by pure rage as you looked over at the time.

“I swear to God I will fucking kill—“

“Hi, this is Officer Robinson from the police department.”

“Uhhhhh, hello”

The officer was calling to inform you that you’d needed to collect your two best friends from the station because they’d been too drunk and caused chaos.

You jumped out of bed, feeling not only anger, but pure disappointment. As you pulled up outside the police station, you found them sitting on the steps outside, laughing like children.

“You two! Get in the car” you snap at them.

They looked at you and laughed. You mouthed “what the fuck?” 

Robby pointed at you.

“Right, c’mon big guy, not the first time you’ve seen me in pyjamas” you helped him stand and drag his heavy ass into the car. He managed to get into the back seat, face planting the hard leather as he lay there. 

“Right you!” A finger was pointed at Abbor while you wiped the sweat beads off your forehead. “In the car now”

Jack attempts to stand up but he stumbles, then mumbles, “you are a great friend- you mean so much to me”

“Not the time to be stating facts ” you said, “get in the fucking car” 

He muttered, the strong smell of alcohol lingering on his breath, “I love you so much”

“And I don’t at this moment — everyone’s looking at us and you’re in big trouble. Get. In. The. Car”

Jack pushed you away as he shrugged in protest. 

“Jack, I swear I will leave you in the streets all alone”

“You wouldn’t”

“I truly, truuuly would” you said as you grabbed his arm, slinging one arm over as you walked him over to the car and helping him in. As you put the seat belt on, he cupped your face and said “you’re a great friend….Wait…. I think I already said that?”

You noticed that his hands were dirty and you instantly gagged, “get your hands off me”

Robby groaned from the back seat, asking for food. You quickly told him to piss off.

As you approached your apartment complex, you glanced over, and they were both fast asleep. So you pressed on the brake harshly and screamed, jolting both wide awake. 

You grinned as you said, “We’re here!”

Robby groaned in the back and muttered, “I’m gonna be sick”

“I dare you to be sick in my car, I dare you, Robinavitch” 

“Can we have a cuddle tonight?” Jack asked softly.

“No!” You shot back, “Up you go, my darlings!”

By the time you arrived back at your apartment, they were no longer your problem as you found your bed and collapsed in it.

The morning after you woke up, feeling a heavy set of arms on you. Robby snored loudly next to you, and you didn’t remember him joining you in bed. “Oh for fucks sake Robinavitch!”

You pushed him off you, just as Jack walked into the bedroom. He got in bed next to you swinging one arm over your waist. “Good morning my sunshine”

You quickly covered your mouth with your hands “Your breath stinks of alcohol”

“My head hurts.” He mumbled.

“How much did you drink?”

Jack nestled his face by your neck and closed his eyes. “I don’t remember anything from around 11pm”

“Shit”

He muttered, “Exactly.”  

“This is the worst threesome ever” 

“Don’t lie” Jack whispered teasingly. 

“Will you two ever stop chatting?” Robby groaned as he moved over, pulling the entire duvet with him. 

“Okay there are too many dicks in this bed, and no one is getting any action. Get out of my bed! And please shower.”

“You’re so loud” Robby protested. 

With one swift motion, you positioned both feet on him as you pushed him off the bed. A loud thud woke a sleepy Jack up. “Are you alive, brother?” Jack mumbled against the bedsheet. 

“She’s grumpy”

“Okay then!” You yelled as loud as you could. “Robinavitch, get in the fucking shower. Now.” 

You turned over to Abbot, “You will be next. And I don’t care if you have to crawl in there or sit on a stool. You’re getting in that fucking shower.”

Jack gave you a thumbs up. 

“Actually, I have a shower chair you can use” you said almost to yourself. 

Robby stumbled into the bathroom, and you sank back in bed, glancing over at the time. Seven am. You’ve not even been asleep for 2 hours. 

“Come here” Jack grabbed you with one arm and pulled you against his chest. “Missed you last night.”

What Jack hadn’t noticed is he pulled you right against his morning erection. You closed your eyes and tired to focus on anything else but you couldn’t help it. “Sorry, I didn’t come. It sounded eventful.”

“It was” Jack mumbled against your hair, “it would have been better if you were there.”

“Mhm” you bit down on your lip as you felt yourself get turned on. 

You eventually turned around and faced Jack as you heard him snore. You took in his gestures — the wrinkles that sat around his eyes, his white curls with a hint of ginger that fell on his forehead. You swallowed hard as you stared at his lips — really studied them. 

You traced one finger from his forehead down to his cheeks, tracing his lips, feeling yourself pulsate. 

Jack noticed, of course, he did. He put one arm under your top, gently resting it on your waist like he always did. But this time you needed him to move it, just a bit lower. 

Gosh, you missed being with someone. You missed being pleased by a man and not a toy. 

Time passed, of Jack sleeping next to you and you were wide awake thinking of him and only him.

“Baby?” He muttered, eyes still closed. 

“Yes, Jacky?” You said breathlessly. 

“You’re shaking” 

“I know” 

You shifted onto your back, forcing your eyes shut as you tried to slow your heartbeat. Jack’s hand rested on your stomach. 

You put your hand on top of his and gently moved it down. 

Jack’s hand stopped yours.

You muttered, “sorry” 

“You sure?” Jack’s voice was gravely but sleepy.

“Just this one time?”

His hand moved and found your wet clit. “Fuck baby” he whispered, “you’re soaked”

You let out a small moan, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, “Jack” 

“Oh my god, sweetheart, you feel so good” he gently made circles around your clit before slipping two fingers in. 

“Ja- fuck” you sucked on his neck, bouncing up and down on his fingers. 

The bathroom door clicked open, and Jack quickly moved his hand back. You kept your face buried in his chest as Robby stepped out of the shower. 

“Feeling better?” Jack asked Robby casually, although you could hear his loud heartbeat as you rested your head just over his heart. 

“I feel even fucking worse.” Robby said, “I’m crashing on the couch.”

“And I guess I’ll be in the shower” Jack said as he moved off the bed. 

You instantly grieved the loss of his warm body against yours. You pushed your face against the bed sheet and muttered “fuck, fuck what have I fucking done!”

Neither of you spoke of what happened, and you really didn’t want to think about it. Complex emotions were certainly not your speciality. 

48 hours passed before Jack was knocking on your front door one evening. Before you even had the chance to say anything, he cut in.

“You’ve not answered any of my calls” he said as he walked in to the apartment. “Or my texts.”

“I uh… I’ve been busy” you said quietly as you closed the door.

“I know your schedule and you’re off work.”

“Abbot are you stalking me?” You teased but Jack didn’t tease back. He was pacing around the apartment. Jack opened his mouth to say something then quick shut it. 

You walked over to him and gently put your hands on both of his arms to slow him down.

“Fifteen years — that’s how long you’ve been on my mind for.” Jack said breathlessly. “Fifteen years I’ve wanted you. So badly. Every inch of you. Every drop of you.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise. Your lips failed to form any sort of words. 

“I’m sorry about the other day, Jack I was being stupid and—“ 

“I waited so, so long for this.” Jack croaked. “But why now?” 

“I… don’t know why now.” You said quietly. “I think it’s best if we talk about this another day?” 

“Is that what you want?”

You nodded.

“Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” Jack had now stopped pacing. “Sorry to barge in, that was… dramatic.”

You threw your arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Sorry that I’m confused.” 

“That’s okay, baby, I’m here for you.” 

“I love you” you whispered,” but I’m scared.”

“Don’t be , as long as I’m around you, don’t get to be scared, alright?”

You pulled away and nodded. 

The evening passed in a blur of motion and mix of emotions. But the tension was there. Tension that may have been ignored for many years, or tension that was created recently. Either way, you both tried to ignore it. 

“I’m gonna head to bed Jack” you said as you shifted off the sofa away from Jack “The festival is tomorrow and I need to be up early.”

“And I’ll be on the couch” he said, standing up, taking your hand in his.

“Will you come to bed with me?” You asked shyly as you leaned in. “Nothing’s changed, Jack. You always come to bed.”

He gave you a small smile, “Okay, hun of course I will.” 

Later that night, you again tossed and turned while Jack was fast asleep. Eventually, you lay opposite him like you always did, taking in all his features. You had memorised them all. Every line and every wrinkle. Robby’s too. Although when he slept, he was usually face down, and snored too loudly. Robby was a huge cuddler — both arms and legs wrapped around like you were a pillow made specifically for him.

Whereas Jack was a bit less touchy, more feely.

He always had one arm swung over you, however you slept and whatever position you were in. He noticed when you moved away, because that arm followed you everywhere. 

You brushed your fingers through his curls, and he let out a small hmmm in his sleep. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sleepy reaction. But this time your finger didn’t stop just at his face. You traced your fingers down his big arm, over to his chest. He was incredibly warm, and all you wanted was to nestle up against him. So you did. You shifted up and buried your face against his warm and soft chest, and Jack instinctively pulled you even further into him. 

Jack felt you against him, and he wanted nothing more than to show you how much he loved you. But he wanted to know that you were sure of it. 

“Baby are you awake?” Jack whispered, and you nodded slowly. “How awake?”

“Awake enough”

“You’re shaking again.” Jack felt how your body tensed when he pulled you against him. 

You stayed quiet, unable to explain what emotions you were now feeling. He opened his eyes and gently lifted your chin up. “You’re beautiful”

“I feel it, when you give me this look”

Jack smirked, and said with a low voice, “What look?”

“You know” you said with a casual shrug. 

His hand trailed away from your jaw, down to your chest, gently brushing over your breasts. Your nipples were hard, desperate to be sucked on. His hand trailed and sat on your hips. 

“Hey Jacky?”

He muttered, “yes baby?”

“Please- can you -“

“Touch you?” Jack asked as he leaned in. You nodded against his lips.

His fingers sat between your folds and Jack let out a moan at how wet you were. “Oh-my”

“I know” you nodded, “I’ve been wanting this for— a while”

You moaned against his lips, whispering his name as Jack slid two fingers again. You grabbed onto his curls and finally pulled his lips towards you.

Jack moaned your name loudly while sucking on your lips, before finding your breasts.

You eventually came on his fingers, dripping wet, forehead sweaty and bodies against each other hot. You kept your eyes closed as he pulled you towards him. “Feeling okay, baby?”

“More than okay” you said weakly. “Promise this won’t change anything”

“I promise you, a million and one promises”

You opened your eyes and finally met his beautiful green, glossy eyes. “Love you jacky”

“Me too baby, me too.”

The morning came around, and Jack kissed you goodbye before leaving. “Be safe at the festival. Keep me updated, will you?”

You gave him a tired thumbs up.

“Don’t accept drinks from strangers and —“

You shot out of bed, grabbed his tshirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Jack was hungry for your kiss and much more. “I need to get to work, sweetheart, don’t do this” he muttered against your lips.

“Are you working tonight?”

Jack shook his head, whispering against your lips. “I’ll be here when you come back.” 

“I can’t wait” you smiled shyly, “I’ll be safe I promise.”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“I’m so fucking happy to see you brother” Robby turned around as he saw Jack walk through the ER doors. 

“She’s at pit fest Robby. Have you heard from her?” 

“Tried to call there’s no service” Robby said. “Fuck.”

“Me too — I was texting her then it all stopped,” Jack said anxiously. 

Robby then spoke with everyone, informed them that there had been a mass shooting at Pitt fest. He had you in the back of his mind. With every step, every patient, he looked for your face. He kept checking his phone — waiting for a text. Anything.

“I’m losing my fucking mind” Jack said to Robby as they worked on a patient, “there’s still no cell service”

Robby was beyond stressed — he couldn’t think straight, his heart was scanning for a small bit of hope despite what his mind telling him about worst-case scenarios. They had both asked Dana to keep calling you — but hours had passed with no luck.

Jack checked his phone again, nothing. He texted you again

Please tell me you’re safe.

I’m thinking of you

Baby please tell me something 

I’m worried 

I love you okay?

Me and Robby will be at yours waiting for you tonight, okay?  

“Jack” Robby said anxiously, “I’m gonna help outside in triage”

Jack nodded. He felt sick to his stomach and had now assumed the worst. It had been hours of trauma calls, blood, tears and sweat and no sign of you. 

Robby stood outside as another load of cars came in.  “What have we got?” He said as he opened the van door.

“Three victims — GSW to the head, lost pulse on the way here. GSW to the thigh, I tried my best to stop the bleed and him—“ you pointed at someone who was lying face down, “was trampled on, pulse is weak, but he’s alive” 

But Robby wasn’t listening. He let out a small sob as he saw you. He pulled you out of the van, cupping your face in his hands and giving you a lips a kiss, “I’m so fucking glad you’re alive”

You nodded. “Good to see you Robby, I’m glad I’m alive too”

The horror you had just seen was too damaging. You had been running on an adrenaline high this whole time. Mind was foggy, the smell of blood was too strong, and you ached everywhere. Shen slapped bracelets on each victim, and a green one on you.

You ran after Robby into the chaos inside. “Where do you want me?” 

“Nowhere. You need to get checked out.” Robby said as he moved the patient onto the bed. 

“Robby, I can help.” You said. “You need the hands.”

“Is any of the blood on you yours?”  Robby asked, glancing over to your blue denim dress which was had now turned black. You had your denim jacket one — your favourite one too — which was also covered in blood.

“I’m fine, I can help”

“Get checked”

“Please—“

Robby then yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I said no!”

You frowned at him, “hey.”

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry, sweetheart but I need to make sure you’re okay first, then you can help”

“Okay, okay, that’s fine.”

“Jack’s here”

Your stomach flipped, heart was beating incredibly fast as you walked out of the room to find him. Your eyes scanned the floor until they landed on his. 

Jack’s lips parted in relief as he saw you standing there. You ran over to him, and without hesitating, Jack took you in for a hug. 

You felt a wave of nausea as he pulled you in. The adrenaline crash was now catching up with you. 

“You’re okay?” Jack asked as he held your bloody and dirty face in his hands, “You’re here”

You nodded and said quietly, “I’m okay, Jacky.”

Jack didn’t care who was around him when he pulled you in for a kiss. “I’m so happy you’re alive and safe”

But as he pulled back, he noticed that your lips were incredibly cold.

“I’m gonna get checked out” you said with a smile as you pulled away from Jack. 

“Hey, denim dress” someone said, and you turned around. “What’s your wristband say?”

You showed her the green wristband.

“Jack, she’s dripping blood” Parker said, pointing at the floor. “Take off your jacket.”

You looked back at Jack and then felt the adrenaline completely wash away from you. 

It then all caught up with you. It was like your eyes had reminded you of everything that has happened so far.

The denim jacket was taken off and you dropped it to the floor.

Parker yelled, “Fuck!” 

You looked down at yourself and your dress was indeed covered in blood, because you were bleeding. 

The butterflies you were feeling were not butterflies; it was pain.

You felt cold not because of the adrenaline crash, but because you had lost so much blood. 

You said weakly as you stumbled forwards, “Jack?”

“I’ve got you, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Jack had now gotten hold of you as he laid you on the bloody floor, hand pressing over your wound that was leaking out.

“I remember now, “ you said softly.

“You gotta stay with me baby, okay?” Jack said. Parker was yelling for a gurney, and as you went limp and unconscious, all Jack could do was yell for Robby.

The dress was cut wide open.

“BP is 80/50, HR 145”

“O-neg, intubate and an IO for fluids” Robby said.

“Status on ORs?” Jack asked as he worked on the wound.

Parker shook her head. “Last we checked, they’re full.”

“Fuck!” Robby yelled. “She— she was fine she was talking! i yelled at her to get checked out!  Fuck how did we miss this”

“Robby stay focused!” Jack snapped as he snapped the abdomen, “Positive FAST, massive hemoperitoneum, no exit wound”

“Keep on top of the O-neg” Robby said.

“We’re running very fucking low” Parker said 

“I’ll donate, hook me up” Jack said. 

Perlah looked at Robby first for the go-ahead. “Perlah now! I’ll fill up another bag. She’s not dying when I can give her blood!”

She shook her head at him — he had already donated — but she connected a line anyways.

Jack worked on cleaning the wound and removing the debris, eyes glancing over to your face every few seconds. Robby ran in and out of the room, managing to check in between everyone. 

“BP’s not improving, Jack”

Despite the blood you had, and the plasma, you were no better. If anything, you were getting worse. 

Jack stepped away from the wound, you and the bed. “This can’t be happening” 

“Let’s give another unit of blood, okay? I’ll find a bag somewhere—“

“I’ve controlled the bleed to a level, but surgery—“

“What have we got?” Walsh said, walking in to the room. 

Parker ran her through the history quickly.

“Don’t you dare leave us. You hear me? We’ve got too much unfinished. I’ve got too much I never said.” Jack’s shaky voice for everyone’s attention. It told them everything they needed to know about how much he loved you.

“Is she stable?” Walsh asked, looking at the wound.

“No” Jack choked out. “BP keeps dropping”

“We’ll take her” she said 

“You serious?” Jack asked

“She’s yours, isn’t she?”

Jack looked at Robby, then back at her, “ours”

“We’ll take her. Let’s move!” She commanded.

But before you got moved away, Jack leaned in and whispered, “I’ll always love you and choose you. No one else. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

Robby then did the same, “you won’t get away from me this easily. You hear me? I love you.” He kissed your forehead and watched you get wheeled away. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Jack stood on the roof, Robby standing by him. 

“We missed it, how the fuck did we miss it?” Robby asked.

“She was running on adrenaline” Jack said quietly, reality sinking in, “she helped people before she helped herself.” 

Robby let out a cry. “This a fucking mess”

Jack’s phone started buzzing in his pocket, and as he pulled it out, text messages from you had come through.

Jack theres a shooter, I love you okay?

I managed to hide Im safe 

Tell Robby I love him so much I’ll try and get out of this mess

Someone approaching us jack you and Robby are the best thing to ever happen to me don’t ever forget that

Jack yelled out in the open “fuck!”

“Jack—“

“No, Robby no! You- I don’t think you understand I-“

“You love her, I know that” Robby said, “that- that is very fucking obvious, brother. Go wait by the OR- keep me updated”

Jack choked, “are you sure?”

“Go!”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Jack reminisced about the first time he met you. 

You walked into the ER, introduced yourself to everyone but never said a word the rest of the day unless prompted.  When asked questions, you answered perfectly. You presented your cases when you needed to, but apart from that, you remained quiet. He knew you were clever because he never needed to correct you once. 

Robby came home one evening, eager to tell Jack about the new med student that he worked with. 

He described you. 

“She was on my shift too!” Jack said excitedly.

“Man, she was on fire today” Robby said, smiling, “She managed to answer more questions than a resident.”

“Maybe we should ask her out for a drink.”

“Like a date?”

“No, as a friend, for now. We can do with someone like her in our life Robby.”

“Amen to that, brother.” 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Four weeks later, you got woken up by a phone call in the middle of the night. “Hello?”

“Hi this is Officer Robinson from the —“

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  

The officer rambled on about needing to pick up your best friends from the police department, for yet again another warning for being drunken and disorderly. 

But this time, you went back to sleep.

Later that morning, you felt a set of hands on you as you woke up and Jack was now in bed next to you. 

“Abbot!” You groaned, “What the fuck dude!”

‘’Morning my love” he mumbled. “You didn’t pick us up.”

“You made it back in on piece, didn’t you?” You smiled as you traced your hands on his naked body. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Me? I’m fine” you replied, “you’re the one who’s been drinking all night” 

Jack shifted up, sitting up on the bed. “Ehhh, I think we needed to drink to forget.”

“You didn’t even invite me!” 

“You’re still recovering, aren’t you?” Jack smirked

“I am well recovered Abbot.” You turned your back to him and pulled the duvet up, “I’m going back to sleep and you need a shower.”

Jack shifted next to you, pulling you against his naked chest. “How well recovered are you?”

“You’re my doctor so you tell me?” You joked. You then said gently, “I promise you I’m fine Jack”

He kissed your shoulder gently and whispered, “baby can I-“

“Touch me?” You said as you turned over to face him. 

Jack’s face was flushed, curls gone in different directions, he bit on his lip but you quickly stopped him as you pulled him in for a kiss. 

“I need you to do more than touch me Jack”

Jack growled against your lips as touched your clit until he felt you relax against the bed sheet, he then slowly pushed himself in. You gasped at the feeling — the one you had craved for so long. You let out a loud moan then quickly put your hand over your mouth.  

“No, be loud” Jack said, “for everyone to hear”

“But Robby is—“

“Robby can hear it too, he’ll know what he’s missing out on.”

Jack was gentle, careful of your scars. But you didn’t want him to. You lifted one leg up to let him go in deeper.  “Baby I- I’m trying to be gentle but you’re not helping”

“I don’t want you to be gentle” you moaned louder.

Jack thrusted harder, as you lay on your back feeling your body rock against his movement. 

“You feel so fucking good” Jack whimpered, “I love you so much, okay?”

You cried out as his lips found your neck again. His fingers rubbed against your clip and your back arched as you came, Jack following right after.

You were panting, hot sweaty and in love.

“Hey fuckers!” Robby yelled from the couch, “next time invite me!” 

Jack let out a laugh as he shook his head, burying his sweaty forehead in your neck.  

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

I loved writing this ngl. It started off as a brain dump, then a short fic but we ended up at 12k somehow. 

It’s my first time writing reader x Robby so it’s not the best but i might be getting somewhere. 

This fic has sooo many layers to it and I might turn it into a little series if anyone’s interested? Could be flashbacks to the reader as med student or starting off at PTMC, maybe insight into the future with both of them or just Jack. Maybe them surviving while Robby is on sabbatical. Or reader at Jack’s wedding to his late wife. Who knows! If you want to see like a specific scenario to this fic, again happy to do that :)

“Hey there superstar…” Jack and Robby carefully tracked your movements as you bounced around the ED like you were a bouncy ball slung at full force into a tunnel. “That was a uh- a tricky case- you wanna sit down for a minute…?” Robby’s hand pressed down in the middle of your back guiding you towards the breakroom as Jack caught a quick glance of your eyes, pupils blown wide, deep black dominating your eyes. 

“No- no I- I just wanna keep going I’m in a flow state-” you attempted to turn back, to slip out of his arms- to get back to the action, a large calloused hand came down around your bicep, eyes travelling up and seeing the disapproving gaze of one Jack Abbot.

“Superstar…” His voice came through stern. His narrow gaze immediately sends a tingle up your spine, forcing your spine to straighten out as you stiffened. “Time for a break.” He pushed the door to the breakroom open, holding it for you and Robby to step in, Robby gently guided you to the couch then diverting to the kitchenette in search for a snack to curb the blood sugar crash. “You did great out there but you can’t take care of other people if you can’t take care of yourself-”

Robby snorted, bent to scavenge the (slightly grotty) fridge, “That sounds familiar-”

Jack ruffled his shoulders, his good leg moving to support his slight turn towards Robby, head cocking into a slight tilt, not like a puppy, rather a scolding commanding officer “Well if you listened to me I wouldn't have to repeat myself.” Robby averted his gaze, grabbing some random sandwich supplies to throw something together for you. 

“I feel great.” your voice faltered, the tail end of the adrenaline starting to wane despite the bright smile you’d forced on. Jack scanned the room, slowly moving in on your space, that same slightly condescending but frustratingly suave smirk. “I do really Doctor Abbot-”

“-Jack…” He cut you off, watching as robby moved to place a sandwich in your lap, flopping onto the couch next to you, you wondered in the back of your mind if this was the most productive way for two attendings and a resident to be spending their time. Robby’s hand nudged yours, a reassuring smile as your fingers nimbly grasped the bread, constantly looking between the two men assessing if there was a need to ask for approval.

You bit down, humming slightly at the taste as your body relaxed back into the couch, the tension in your muscles finally releasing after a day of being constantly on the move. “I think its hitting me…” you mumbled, hand covering your mouth as you spoke, the ache in your jaw and lower neck becoming more pronounced with the burden of having to hold your own head up and chew. 

“Let us help…” Robby’s hand moved to the back of your neck, carefully grasping into your hairline to hold your bowling ball of a head up on your shoulders, a small squeak escaping you as your eyes snapped to Robby’s. “It’s okay…don’t worry about it- we’re just looking after our superstar…” your heart (and something else) pulsed at his words. 

“Those pupils for us now sweetheart?” Jack grinned at the interaction between the two of you, his hand reaching to cup your cheek as you swallowed. His hands were softer now, palpating around your mandible “Need to stop grinding your teeth, it's making you tense…” his thumb brushed over the corner of your lip, a dollop of sauce coming free sitting on his thick digit. “Open…”  You sat shell shocked, mouth dropping open with surprise as Jack prodded at the gap gently, “if you’re uncomfortable we can stop…?” 

Robby’s hand rubbed gently up and down your thigh, his hands were colder, but wider slightly squeezing the meat of your leg when he reached the top “He’s right…no pressure at all…we won’t talk about it-” Jack suppressed a groan as your hands clasped down around his wrist, pulling his hand towards your mouth, warm wetness surrounding his thumb as you tried to be the best superstar for your attendings. “That's it…let it all go…” Robby’s hand in your hair massaged softly, guiding you softly,  a meek sound escaped you. 

Distant words crackled over the intercom, a disgruntled huff escaping Jack as he slowly removed his hand, much to your discontent. “Sorry superstar…gotta get back to work since you two are officially done for today…” his non spit drenched hand came up to brush your cheek, tilting up your chin as you grinned lazily.

His eyes turned to Robby, a soft smile grazing his lips as Robby stayed infatuated with you, truly a vision of grace, his soiled thumb came down on Robby’s lips. RObby seemed somewhat more well trained than you had as Jack leaned down placing a much more domestic kiss on his lips, fingers curling slightly in his beard. “I’ll see you at home for breakfast slash dinner…” Jack mumbled against Robby’s lips as the man played with his wedding ring around his necklace. “You’re welcome to join…” Jack spoke as he backed out the door with a wink, tongue peaking out to kitten lick his thumb.

"God he's hot..." the two of you sighed in unison.

You always thought of yourself as a prey, a weak one even, but when you got the job at PTMC, a place you dreamt about for so long, you decided that you were no longer a prey. Not a predator either, but someone who was not weak or hid from the world.

“Good morning, Dr Robby” you smiled as you approached him. He stood next to a man; incredibly handsome, curls falling perfectly on his face, standing up straight, shoulders wide.

“Thank you for coming in early” Robby said, smiling widely, “This is Dr Jack Abbot, attending physician. You will be working under him”

A nervous smile formed on Abbot’s lips, matching yours. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” The handsome doctor would be your new boss, and if you weren’t nervous enough to start with, you certainly were now. 

Abbot was a creature you had never met before. He had incredible charisma with pretty much everyone he spoke with; he was authoritative, funny, clever but also… casual. None of it felt forced. 

He paid attention to detail, whether it was staff, patients, or cases, all of it. You felt reassured to be working alongside him and found yourself thinking about him a lot, after only working with him for a few hours.

By your third day at PTMC, officially your second shift, Abbot was covering the full twelve-hours, and you found yourself incredibly happy at the thought. You reminded yourself to get it together, and that your residency was more important than some guy. 

Abbot asked you to stick with him that day, “be my shadow” he said. 

You nodded shyly and did as he told. 

After each case, he told you what a great job you’d done. In each trauma, he didn’t need to correct you not once. You were on top of every task he had given you, and eight hours later, he walked over to you and handed you a granola bar. 

You looked up from your desk, “thank you”

“I was going to make you a hot drink but i don’t know what you like”

“Oh, I’m… boring. I like a basic coffee black.” A lie. You liked iced coffees with extravagant syrups and whipped creams, but you couldn’t particularly tell him that. 

“I’ll remember that” another nervous smile from him. 

By the time you got home, he did not leave your mind once and you struggled to understand why he had some a huge influence on you in such a short space of time?

Maybe, not being a prey anymore attracted a dfferent type of predators. Ones that won’t hurt you or betray you. Ones you didn’t need to hide from. 

It had been a few shifts since you last saw Abbot, and as you walked through one set of doors, he walked through triage, backpack slung on his shoulder. Your heart did a little flip, and you quickly shook your head and reminded yourself yet again to get it together.

“Morning, Dana” you said. ‘Who’s our attending today?”

“Abbot is; your other senior is Langdon. We’re running short on bodies today, so it’s gonna be a tough day.”

“Yeah no worries” you smiled, logged onto the computer but Dana quickly said, “Nope, ambulance is on it’s way so no time to sit.”

“Okie dokie.” you left your bag by her, grabbed a pair of gloves and walked outside to meet the ambulance but Abbot was already there.

“Morning, Dr Abbot” you said, smiling widely. But he didn’t match yours with one. He looked over his shoulder as you approached and replied quietly, “morning.”

Maybe he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“32-year-old male, MVC, altered and awake, GCS 13. Open left femur fracture with heavy bleeding, which we’ve tourniqueted. BP 88/52, HR 128, sats 92%. Multiple facial lacerations and possible head injury.” Paramedics state quickly as they push into trauma room. 

“Senior” Abbot said sharply, “what do we think?

Not even your name. He had called you ‘senior’. 

You start the examination, stating what you see: 

“Airway — i can hear gurgling, loose teeth too. Prepare suction.” you said looking at the nurse. “Breathing — Decreased breath sounds on the left side, possible hemopneumothorax. Circulation — bleeding is controlled around fracture—“

“That’s obvious” Abbot mutters.

Did you hear that correctly? 

You continue with your examination, and start preparing for an intubation as you say, “we need a FAST exam, X-ray and a CT scan”

“So what are you doing first?” 

Another rude comment.

“Sedation then intubation purely for—“

“Why.”

“Patient is agitated, and stats are dropping” you say, quieter now. The confidence was starting to wear off.

Abbot nodded, but you froze — was this a trick question? But as he gestured at the patient, you continued. 

“Splenic laceration” you mutter as you look over at Abbot “we need an OR before he crashes, and we need a thoracostomy”

He ignored you, but did as you said anyway. To say that things were awkward would have been an understatement. He wasn’t in a bad mood; he was in an awful, painful, and fucked up mood. Because he gave you hell that shift. And every other shift after. 

You began dreading coming into work, wondering if he would be on shift. And the days he was? You just knew he would be giving you hell for no reason. 

“You” Abbot pointed “trauma”

You were now starting to take offence at the way he’d been speaking to you. He couldn’t even say your name, and you decided that one of these days, a confrontation was going to happen.

“What do we have?” Abbot said walking into the room.

“Helmetless motorcycle versus car at high speed.”

“Ouch. Senior?” Abbot looks at you, jaw shut tightly.

“Unresponsive, GCS 6” you said as you carried out your examination, “Unequal pupils and chest sounds clear”

He shot back, “That’s it?”

You glared at him, “I’m still going, Dr Abbot.”

“Needs a rapid CT — possible haemorrhage. So far stable for CT and hopefully for surgery.”

“Hopefully?” Abbot cuts in.

“Anything you would like to add?”

“What about transfusion protocol?”

“That’s on standby. Priority is CT, isn’t it?”

“But you gotta state all your options”

“That’s if you let me finish” you bit back. “I’ll get the CT ordered stat. The patient seems to be in good hands here.”

You left the room, hands trembling with anger, and you felt your eyes starting to stream before running into the bathroom and silently sobbing in the cubicle. 

You were back to being a prey, and this time you couldn’t understand why. You ignored Abbot the remainder of the shift, or at least tried your best to. Because for someone he hated so much, he surely was around you a lot. Every shift he covered, he’d fire off some nasty comment or snap at you for no reason at all.

“Too slow” 

“Wrong answer!”

“How about we ask the med student for their opinion, hm?”

But your final straw was when Abbot yelled at you in front of a patient, who was a child. 

“Swap with Langdon!” he snapped.

“Dr Abbot I—“

“Now.”

“Outside, please?” you said, giving the patient and his family a small apologetic smile.

Abbot followed you outside the room, hands behind his back. 

“Langdon is not in today. Mohan is stuck in a trauma call. Whitaker is covering triage, and McKay is on break. So the only option is me” you said calmly, despite your stomach twisting into a painful knot. “Please explain what I did wrong?”

“You should know” he snapped.

“This is a teaching hospital, isn’t it?”

But this time he didn’t reply. You watched his expression — he was angry and hurt, but you could not understand why. Why would someone like Abbot hate you so much?

You nodded slowly. “Okay then, case is all yours Dr Abbot. It seems like you can manage it all.”

You walked away from him, rushing into the toilet, but this time not to cry, but rather to vomit.

“You alright kid?” Dana walked into the bathroom.

You managed a weak “yeah”

She pushed the door to the cubicle open and found you on the floor, looking pale and clammy. 

“Food poisoning or pregnant?”

“The first one, definitely.” It was neither; it was the anxiety that was eating you alive. 

“Go home”

Without any protests, you went home that day and skipped the next three days from work. Abbot made you anxious and sad, in ways you didn’t anticipate. He crept up on you when you thought you were safe from him, with yet another comment. 

A few days later, you pushed through the same doors you walked through every single day. But with each step you took, you lost hope of finishing this residency. 

The dayshift staff gathered by the hub, having some type of meeting. 

“Morning” you said quietly.

“Nice of you to join us” Abbot smiled; a predator’s smile you thought, “Meeting’s almost finished”

“It seems like my invite got lost in the mail” You matched his attitude with one. “Anybody want to fill me in?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Langdon said, and you muttered a thank you before walking away from them and choosing your next patient, and another one, and another, until time passed and you heard his footsteps and sighed. 

“You left the meeting” 

Was it a statement? a question? Either way, you didn’t care.

“What can I do for you Dr Abbot? Did you lose your punching bag?”

He frowned and raised his eyebrows in surprise at your comment. “Excuse me?”

“I left the meeting because I was never part of it to start with. Because you did not send me the invite.”

“I forgot.”

“Apology accepted.” You gave him a small smile. “My next patient is here, so gotta go. Have the day you deserve, Abbot”

And with that, you walked away from him. 

You had now finally understood that Abbot was bullying you and only you. You no longer cared why he did it — maybe it was a fetish. Maybe he loved you. Maybe he was jealous because you were better looking and had a nicer attitude. 

You waited for one more comment to unleash that lava that had been bubbling inside of you. 

“Ogilvie what do we have?” you asked, putting on gloves. 

“3-year-old son, Liam, fever, awake and alert, playful but tired. Mild runny nose.” The boy was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, he was watching something on his iPad. 

“Any rash anywhere?”

“None that I could see” Ogilvie replied.

“Let’s do bloods, keep monitoring stats. We need to rule out infections; we can give meds for the fever. Anything else?”

Ogilvie shook his head. You nodded and walked out of the room but not even minutes later, you heard screams.

The mom screamed as the little boy, Liam, convulsed on the bed. You rushed into the room, yelling for help on your way in, and, unlucky for you, Abbot joined. “Let’s move to the trauma room once the convulsion stops” you said.

Once they stopped, you picked up the child and pushed through the doors, mom following as she cried. You yelled for someone to get her out as you put him on the bed.

You cut the boy’s clothes open and his abdomen was covered in a pin-prick rash.

“Ogilvie, you said there was no rash!”

“None, that I could see!” 

“You didn’t check for rash under his clothes?!” You yelled at him. “Fuck! Intubate, let’s call paediatrics, he’s in septic fucking shock! Someone call the lab for bloods!”

But you couldn’t do any of that, because the boy flatlined. 

“He’s in PEA — starting compressions” you yelled in horror, “Call paeds for ECMO”

Moments passed as you counted how many compressions you had done. You refused to swap, maintaining perfect textbook CPR with each pump. The boy was eventually put on ECMO, and he was taken somewhere where you couldn’t see him, reach him, or know more about him. 

You took off your gloves, threw them onto the floor, as you felt nothing in that moment. You had finally gone numb. 

This was the job you signed up for but moments like this, reminded you why it was not worth it. The trauma, the death, the disasters that come with it. None. Of. It. Was. Worth. It.

You pushed past Abbot on your way out of the room, going through the ambulance bay doors, and walked down the street somewhere far away from the boy, but not far enough. 

You lost track of how long you were gone for. 

Abbot found you outside and the moment you saw him, you scoffed. “If you’re here to say a nasty comment, then please fuck off.”

“Wasn’t gonna”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“That was not your fault”

“Wow, are you trying to be nice right now?”

“Trying to but your attitude is not helping!”

“Jesus Abbot! Take a good look in the mirror at whose attitude sucks. Dude, you’re— you’re an asshole to me all the fucking time!”

“Just because the boy died doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me.”

“H-h-he died?” you choked out, “he fucking died?”

He nodded. 

This was the moment you thought you were going to die. You were sure of it. 

Abbot didn’t look real, your body didn’t feel real. 

Your lungs had collapsed — you were certain of it. 

Your first instinct was to grab your neck, hoping your airway would open up. You scratched it tightly, as you choked on your words. You saw Abbot approach you, but you stumbled back. You wanted to yell for him to get away, but you couldn’t breathe.

The boy died and you were about to. 

Abbot grabbed hold of you and you tried to fight him off but your hands had gone numb, along with your face and legs.  

“Breathe,” he said softly, “you can breathe, you’re fine”

You shook your head, scratching on your neck, drawing blood. 

“Close your eyes and take a breath on my count” 

You squeezed your eyes shut and you felt the earth shift beneath your feet. Abbot pulled you closer, holding you tightly so you don’t fall. “On my count, one, two, three…”

You did as he asked of you. 

You no longer felt like you were dying, but you hoped that when the time came for your death, it would be quick and painless. Nothing compared to this. 

“That’s it” he said gently, “you can breathe now, see? let’s go get your neck checked”

“No” you replied as you pushed him off and ran back inside, “get the fuck away from me”

Dana saw you rush through the doors, blood trickling down your neck. “Langdon — this one is yours”

“I’m fine” you said quickly. You did not look fine. You looked like hell.

“You’ve been missing for over forty-five minutes and you’re bleeding” Langdon said softly, “come with me”

That day, you stopped speaking to anyone. 

You chose silence because that was the easy option. Abbot’s comments have gotten a lot less, but they didn’t fully stop. Maybe your panic attack showed him that you were human, with actual feelings, unlike him. The scratches on your neck reminded you every day that you were no longer a prey or a predator; you were nothing. 

So when Robby said you were being moved to the night shift, you didn’t protest, cry or ask why. You nodded and got on with it.

The night shift meant you’d be seeing Abbot every day. It meant that he would be bullying you, every day. You no longer slept anyway, so it didn’t matter whether you did the day or night shift.

You no longer felt anything so Abbot’s words meant nothing to you.  

Did the night shift go as you expected? 

The staff were nice, for definite, but the favouritism was too obvious form Abbot. He cracked jokes with them, checked in on everyone but when it came to you, he gave you a simple nod. 

You always returned it with a frown.

But what tipped you over the edge when Abbot tried to be nice. That you didn’t expect. 

You didn’t expect him to try and comfort you. Was he playing mind games? Fucking with your head so he can destroy it? And to think you had a crush on him when you first started. That quickly died down. 

“That teenager survived, thanks to you” Abbot said casually one evening. You looked at Ellis first, wondering if he was talking to her?

He pointed at you. 

“Okay?” You said quietly. 

“I’m trying to be nice” he leaned in and said quietly, “but you’re making it difficult”

“It’s a bit too fucking late for that, don’t you think?”

Ellis let out a whistle as she walked away from a potential argument. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Although you didn’t mean for it to happen, you raised your voice at him, “are you kidding me! What is your problem old man!”

Abbot was taken aback by your reaction, the way you had spoken to him. Incredibly disrespectful, and in front of everyone. He also tried not to think about the 'old man' comment. 

“I heard you that day” he hissed. 

“What day, Abbot?” 

“Your second day here. The comment you made.”

“What are you even talking about!” You walked away from him and he followed, sighing loudly as you heard his footsteps.

“You made a joke about my late wife.” His voice shook.

You stopped still and turned to face him. “I would never do that” you said firmly. 

“Someone heard you” he yelled. 

You let out a chuckle. “You just said you heard me. So were you there or not?”

“Is this funny to you?”

You stepped closer to him, fully closing the distance between the two of you. You hissed at him, “Check the log sheet you asshole. I was in training upstairs on my second day.”

He stuttered as his eyes trailed down to your shaky lips, “what?”

“I didn’t step foot in the ER on my second day. Ask anyone you want, I wasn’t here. Maybe ask the person who heard me, they might tell you.”

He muttered, “fuck”  

“Exactly.”

You brushed last him, pushing him away on purpose, finding a quiet room to let yourself cry in peace. 

He was bullying you for a rumour he heard. He made your life hell because of a lie.

It was no longer tense between the two of you, it was awkward. Abbot didn’t know what to say or do, so he mainly mumbled things, stuttered, or forced a “well done.”

With every praise he gave you, you muttered a gentle, “fuck off.”

With every smile he gave you, you frowned and turned your back to him.

He even made you a hot drink one day — a black coffee just like you told him. You made sure it sat on the side until it went cold, and then you threw the coffee and the mug in the bin on purpose. In front of him. 

You avoided him, but he was always there.

The buzzing of the fluorescent light above your head was making it incredibly difficult for you to focus on charting. You rested your head in your hands, rubbing your temples when you heard his loud breathing next to you.

“What now?” You mumbled.

“A snack” he handed you a protein bar. 

“I’d rather choke and die, Abbot” you replied without looking at him.

“How many times do I have to say sorry?” 

“When you start to actually mean it, not when you have to say it.”

“But I do mean it.” 

You pushed off the chair and leaned towards him. “You’re only saying it because you know you fucked up.”

You noticed how he tensed up whenever you got too close to him. “How can I make it better?”

“That’s the problem Abbot, you can’t and never will be. So whatever this is between us, it’s here to stay.”

He didn’t leave the argument there. No, he followed you through triage as you tried to get out of the Pitt and into the fresh air.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, and Abbot walked straight into you. You both stared at a little boy who sat in his mother’s lap. He looked just like Liam, the three year old that passed away from sepsis.

You stared at the boy as you felt your body begin to move. You didn’t mean to walk, but you did it anyway.  You didn’t mean to cry in front of the entire waiting room. But you did anyway. Your hands trembled despite you not wanting them to.

You blinked and things were starting to look and feel disoriented. The next time you opened your eyes, you were standing by the road. You didn't remember walking to the road. You listened to the traffic, hoping it would distract the ache in your chest. But then your throat began to close up, and that’s when panic set in. 

You clawed at your neck again, but this time Abbot was there pulling your hands away. You looked at him — eyes opened wide, dark, panicked. You tried to free your hands so you could grab your neck again but his grip was too tight.

“Breathe” he commanded, “you can breathe”

You shook your head as you felt yourself choke up.

“It’s all in your head, none of what you’re feeling is real” 

You gasped then eventually he let go of you. You stumbled backwards but he steadied you pulling you away from traffic.

“Close your eyes” he said softly, “listen to the traffic. Focus on just that and nothing else.”

You nodded, entire body trembling. A car nearby honked, and you flinched in fear. You hated that Abbot wrapped his wraps around you and pulled you closer. You hated that you buried your face in his chest as you sobbed. Hated that he rocked you gently until you calmed down.

You hated him.

“Let go” you muttered, “you’re the last person I want to see”

The tension between the two of you was more than obvious at work, and it reached a point where people would be hesitant to work in a room you two were in. Abbot tried to be nice, but it didn’t seem genuine. His ugly words played on your mind over and over again.

“Abbot” you said firmly as you entered the break room, “we’ve been summoned for a meeting with HR.”

“Seriously? When?” 

“Check your email”

“No I trust you”

You scoffed sarcastically.

“This is why we’re in this situation” he pointed at you.

“Put that finger away or I swear I’ll break it” you bit back. 

He read through the email as you sat at the table, arms crossed over your chest. “So?

“We have less than ten days before we need to prove to everyone that we’re the bestest of friends”

“Ew”

“Do want to finish your residency, or not?” 

“I am in this mess because of you!” You slammed your hands on the table. “You made me like this!”

“I said I’m sorry”

“Not good enough Abbot!”

He looked at someone behind you, and as you turned slowly, you saw Gloria standing by the door, shaking her head in disappointment.

“A fucking administration leave?” You hold the piece of paper in your hand, as you pace around Gloria’s office. “He bullied me!”

“It’s not administration leave” she said calmly. 

“It’s a conflict resolution mandatory leave — at some sort of centre?”

“If you both want to keep your jobs, then you’ll be at this location, for one week. You better come back a new person.”

“I should’ve filed a complaint against his ass the moment he yelled at me!”

“This… isn’t helping your case.”

“Fine.” You spat out. “I’ll see you in a week’s time.”

Gloria said quietly, and much calmer than you, “I would highly suggest you and Abbot figure out what’s going on between the two of you. But just remember, you’re a resident and he is an attending. Only one of you has a future to lose.”

You let out a sad, small chuckle as you nodded and walked out of the door. 

Later that day, as you rotted away on the sofa, surrounded by junk food and a sad movie, you heard a knock on the door. You opened it abruptly, too miserable to deal with whoever it was. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jack stood by the door, holding his suitcase. “I’m here to talk” 

“To apologise?”

“To clear the air”

“The air is clear, Abbot. I don’t need you here.”

But he walked inside anyways. You were too fed up to protest so you went back to your place on the sofa and turned the movie back on.  

He paced around the apartment, looking at all your decorations, all the pictures hung on the walls. Pictures of you and your family, along with a young boy. But the young boy no longer showed in more recent pictures. 

“Stop loitering” you mutter from the couch.

“Have you packed?”

“I’m not going” 

“You’ll lose your job”

“What a shame…” you replied sarcastically. 

Abbot stormed into your bedroom, opened your wardrobe and started laying things on the bed.

You yelled at him as you followed him in, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Packing”

“Don’t touch my underwear with your filthy hands!”

He frowned as he looked back at you. “Get me some tongs then?”

“Ha. Ha” you said slowly, nothing playful about your tone, “move!”

After so much yelling and arguing, you packed your bag and got in the car with him. It was a painful two-hour drive of pure silence and angry glances. 

You pulled up to a rural cabin in the middle of the woods.

“What the hell is that” Abbot said as he parked up. “This looks nothing like the leaflet.”

“Did you drive to the wrong place because it wouldn’t surprise me if you did?” You said as you got out of the car.

“Will you just stop it!” You barked, “stop being so fucking whiney!”

“Hey!” you walked towards him, pushing him against his car, you leaned into him and said, “This is all because of you. You bullied me day and night. You hated me.”

“And I said I’m sorry.”

“Apology will never be accepted” you spat out. You walked towards the house, typed in the key code and entered. 

It was a wooden cabin, warm and cosy, with thick blankets on the sofa and a stone fireplace in the centre.

“Great” you muttered to yourself. “Watch and see, there’s only going to be one bedroom.”

You walked upstairs and luckily there were two bedrooms. One had a double bed which you quickly claimed as yours, and the other had a singular bed. “The fucker can roll off this little shit”

“I heard that” he yelled from downstairs as he brought in the bags. 

Later that evening, you stayed confined to your bedroom, put on a movie, ate food all alone and went to sleep. This was all too awkward, too forced and certainly not what you needed. You woke up in a puddle of sweat after yet another nightmare. It didn’t matter how much meditation you did, or therapy, the boy haunted you in the sleep. Every night he lay there lifeless; the mom’s screams echoing in your mind.   

You got out of bed, trying your best not to make a noise otherwise Abbot would be on your case, and made a hot drink before sitting on the patio outside. The sun was rising across the horizon, and for the first time in a long time, you dozed off on the chair, without a nightmare interrupting you.

But your living nightmare was stomping on the patio.

“So, incredibly loud” you muttered. 

“You slept out here?”

“Tried to”

“There are bears in the woods”

“Shame they didn’t get me” you said then laughed at your own joke but Abbot didn’t. 

“What’s the plan for today?” He asked softly. 

You sat up in the chair, and looked at him with piercing eyes, “hmmm let me see. Avoiding you probably.”

“I am sorry I was an asshole to you” he said voice gravely, “the moment I heard that you made a joke about my late wife — I instantly hated you. I should have never believed it.”

“Yeah you should have never”

“I’m sorry”

For the first time in months, he sounded genuine. “Thanks Abbot.” 

“So are we good?”

You took in a deep breath, trying not to yell. “You made me cry, on daily basis. I vomited from anxiety everyday before coming to work because you bullied me so much. I can’t forgive you — I don’t know how to!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think you should forgive me but we need to work together so you don’t lose your residency because of me.”

The calmness of the place made Abbot seem different somehow. He looked sad and sounded genuine. “Okay then. Let’s… uh work on whatever this is.”

“First on the list is wild swimming” he handed you a checklist.

“What the fuck is this?”

“A list to help us... work together. “

“By swimming in a lake full of bears?”

“Bears don’t swim—“

“It’s a metaphor Abbot!” You snapped. You read through the leaflet:

“Wild swimming. Supposedly meant to help you be in discomfort with each other and not fight. Great.” 

“Forest hike — communication. Jesus! 

Rowboat — Teamwork. That’s a no from me

Cooking together — Compromise. Maybe..

Campfire conversation — Vulnerability. Absolutely not. A trust walk?? Seriously? Blindfolded? This is the worse week of my life”

Wild swimming was worse than you expected. It was cold, the ground was slimy, And you squirmed every time something touched your feet. You didn't bring a swimsuit, of course, so you were in your bra and underwear.

Abbot on the other hand floated in the water like he had no worries in his life. You decided to tease him, swimming up to him underwater and gently pinching his leg. He freaked out, kicking and scrambling away, before you popped your head up, giggling at him.

“Bitch” he yelled before charging towards you. He got a hold of you and pushed you underwater, but you didn’t fight it off; instead, you stayed still. He quickly pulled you back up and rasped, “do you have any survival instinct at all?”

You smiled as you shook your head, noticing now his hands were still on your forearms. 

A howl in the distance interrupted your staring competition, and your head snapped in that direction. “Nope, I’m getting out of here!”

As you swam away, he pulled you back in. “Shhhh, don’t make a noise”

You whispered, “are you crazy!”

“They won’t hunt in the water”

“What are you like — some sort of Steve Irwin?” 

The animal howled again, and you squealed in panic. He scooped you up, one arm under your thighs and the other around your back. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m gonna die, it’s gonna be painful and in the arms of someone I hate, oh God”   

“Okay, ouch” he whispered, “you’re not gonna die”

You stayed in his arms, longer than you should have, and you hated to admit but his touch was electric. For a moment, you didn’t feel hate. 

“Let’s go” he ordered, once the howling stopped, releasing his grip on you. Your body grieved the loss and you closed your eyes for a second, hoping it would snap you out of whatever this was.

“Fire’s on” he yelled from downstairs, “I’ve made us hot drinks”

You walked downstairs, hair dripping wet, wearing a cosy, oversized knitted jumper and shorts. You sat by the fire, not wanting to admit how nice it was or even thank Abbot for his efforts.

“Can I ask you something?” 

You glanced over at him as he lay stretched out on the sofa. His curls were still damp, making them look darker than usual. He looked different, more relaxed.

“Sure”

“Who’s the little boy in all of your pictures?”

You looked away from him and stared at the fire instead. You didn’t answer initially, not wanting to be vulnerable in front of him.

“Sorry” he muttered once he saw your eyes tear up.

“My brother. He uh... passed away. Car accident”

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked”

You nodded, wiping your tears away. 

“Tomorrow’s hike day” a small attempt at changing the conversation.

“Great, let’s hope I roll off the cliff.”

This time, he let out a loud laugh and you couldn’t help but join in.

He was finally looking like the Jack you crushed on. The Jack that was kind, and genuine. The Jack you met on your first day.

Hike day was interesting and exhausting.

“It says here we need to communicate, but you have not said a word” He said.

“I thought you would appreciate the silence”

“For the first two hours, maybe” he said “but it’s been close to four.”

“I’m tired and hungry and could do with a nap” you said breathlessly. Your legs ached, back hurt from the stupid backpack Abbot forced you to bring and your stomach growled in protest.

“Let’s set up camp”

“We’re sleeping here!?” You yelled in confusion.

“It’s a metaphor, chill”

You teased as you smiled, “Don’t tell me to chill, old man”

Abbot dropped his bag to the ground, charged towards you, grabbing both of your arms and pushing you ever so slightly towards the edge. 

But instead of the reaction he was expecting, you grinned at him, “Abbot you don’t scare me anymore”

“My name is Jack, stop calling me Abbot” he blurted out as he moved you away from the edge. 

Your heart hammered and not in fear, you were turned on by what he just did.

He lay out a blanket, and you sat under a tree eating the sandwiches he prepared. “Thank you” you said quickly, no wanting to mean it but you did anyway. “This is really nice”

“You’re welcome. Looks like we might be able to work together after all?”

“Don’t push it” you joked. A rustle of leaves from the woods made you both flinch. You whispered shakily, “Jack?”

He dropped his sandwich down, stood up quickly ushering for you to do the same. He pushed you against the tree, standing in front of you, arms wrapping around your waist. “Don’t make a sound” he whispered.

You rested your forehead against his back, as you took in his smell. He was sweaty, but his perfume lingered.

After a tense few minutes, he said “Let’s call it a day?”

You whispered sarcastically, attempting to lighten up a scary situation, “oh no what a shame”

Jack turned around to face you, pressing you harder against the tree. This time, you felt his cock pressing against you. You swallowed hard as your eyes trailed down to his lips. He murmured, “Do you ever stop teasing?”

You said shakily, “it’s a form of communication, isn’t it?”

He nodded, and you felt his warm breath on your lips before he pulled away “Let’s pack up and go”

You let out a shuddering breath, before packing your things and choosing silence on the journey back to the cabin. 

You avoided Jack that evening, excused yourself for being too tired, and went to sleep. But soon, another nightmare haunted you; you yelled, screamed and tried to reach for the boy as he moved further away from you.

“It’s a nightmare” you heard someone say. “Wake up”

The voice was echoey and distant. You replied “no”

“Wake up it’s okay”

Your body jolted awake and your eyes opened wide as you saw Jack’s face hovering over you. You let out a small cry, “Jack?”

He whispered softly, “it’s okay”

You shook your head and sobbed, “he’s dead”

“Who is?”

“The boy is dead and I killed him” You choked out as you cried, but Jack held you tightly, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered over and over again, that everything was going to be okay.

Sleep came quickly, but the tears didn’t stop. You cried in your sleep until later that morning, when you woke up and found Jack still in your bed, one arm slung over you. You stayed exactly where you were, embracing the warmth and the company. How had you gone from hating him to catching feelings again in just a matter of days?

You heard Jack snore, and you let out a small giggle. 

“Shut up” he muttered.

“You snore?” 

“Piss off” he moved his arm away from you, and he turned the other way, face buried against the mattress. 

You turned over and were mesmerised by the shape of his arms, the freckles that trailed down them. You felt heat starting to pool in your lower belly, and got more aroused as you thought of him. 

You thought to yourself, ‘get your shit together, remember what he did’

“Are you ready for boat day?”

Jack snored in response. 

You giggled again as you poked him. “It’s boat day Abbot wake up”

Another loud snore.

You poked his hip and in response, he twitched. You laughed silently as you moved both hands over to him and started tickling him.

“Stop it” he fought with the bed sheet trying to get you stop, “get away”

“The big and strong Abbot is ticklish?” You teased. “Who knew”

“Don’t ever do that again” he said firmly. His eyes were still half asleep and his curls had gone all messy. You didn’t notice you were smiling to yourself until he said, “do you like what you see, sweetheart?”

“A ticklish guy with a cocky attitude? Don’t flatter yourself, please” 

Jack smirked and so you shifted off the bed, grabbed your jumper and headed downstairs. 

Boat day didn’t go ahead because of the torrential rain and thunder outside. You stayed by the fire all day, attempting to read a book, but you kept getting distracted by Jack. “Will you just sit still!” 

“I’m so bored!”

“Go to sleep, that’ll waste some time?”

He pulled a face and put both hands on his hips. 

You groaned, “I’ll go get you another book from upstairs, that should keep you busy"

“I’m good thanks”

“Fuck me” you muttered to yourself as you walked up the stairs. “I’ll get you my iPad and put on paw patrol” 

“A paw what?” 

You yelled back, “it’s a show about the police, you’ll like it!”

As you walked down the stairs, the cabin lost power and everything went dark as thunder struck. You rushed down the stairs in panic as you screamed, tripping and falling down.

“Shit, are you okay!” Jack rushed over, turning on the torch on his phone. 

“Ow” you mumbled, “I fell on my ass and it really hurts”

“Did you hit your head? Arms?”

“Just my ass”

Jack let out a laugh as he helped you up. 

“It’s not funny” you whined, “it really hurts”

He lifted you up gently into his arms and took you over to the couch.  You mumbled, not wanting to admit it, “you’re being nice to me”

“Gotta make up for my asshole behaviour somehow”

“It’s working” you said as you adjusted your position on the sofa, wincing in discomfort. “We have no power, who do we even call?”

“No clue. There’s no cell service, so we can’t call anyone. But hey, we have wine and a fire so it can’t be that bad?” He smirked.

You pulled the blanket higher up on you, looking at the fire. Jack walked back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. You drank it quicker than you should have. He noticed how you were shivering, how tightly you hugged your knees to your chest.

“Hey, shall I run you a hot bath?” 

“There’s a bath here?”

“Actually I don’t think so” he tipped his head back and laughed, you joined in too.

“Thanks for nothing” you muttered, still smiling.

Without a word, Jack set his glass down and moved closer to you. He hesitated for half a second, then gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side, a movement you didn’t protest. Instead, you let yourself lean into him, tucking your head against his chest as his other arm came around you.

After a few minutes, you looked up at him, “Hey Jack, I’m sorry about whoever made that comment about your late wife.”

Jack managed a simple nod.

“I promise it wasn’t me” you said “I would never do that”

“I’m sorry for everything I did” 

“Why didn’t you ever ask me to my face? Instead, you just… treated me that way?”

Jack didn’t answer.

“The entire time, you knew you upset me. But you never confronted me?”

“I was a coward” 

You hated yourself for forgiving him, and for feeling attracted to him. “I guess that’s our campfire talk is ticked off the list.” You chuckled. “And before you say anything, we are not cooking together.”

He smirked, “Why not!”

“Because you don’t want me holding a knife anywhere near you, trust me” 

“Oh yeah?” He teased. 

You talked for a while longer, both of you slowly opening up. The power never came back, so you decided to sleep on the sofa. But as always, the nightmares haunted you in your sleep once again.

This time it was the little boy, holding your brother’s hand. You heard yelling, but it was Abbot yelling at you, telling you that you messed up and did it all wrong. 

“Wake up” Jack shook you.

The fire had died down and the cabin was pitch black. “Get away from me” you choked out but despite your words, your hands still reached out for him. You looked around confused by all the darkness. “I can’t breathe” you said breathlessly. “It’s happening again — it keeps happening!!”

You clawed frantically at your neck, nails digging into your skin. Jack quickly grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away as he gently but firmly held you against the couch. “Shhh i've got you” He murmured as he lay next to you on the couch. “You’re hurting yourself”

He couldn’t see your neck properly but he smelt the blood.

You sobbed and you felt our airway open back up. Jack let go of your hands and you trailed your hand over your blood neck, as you cried.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay” he whispered against your cheek as he he gently brushed his hand through your hair. “I've got you”

“You are the last person i want to see" you cried, voice breaking, "but you are also the only person who seems to calm me down!”

You cried out as you felt him pull you into his arms, you felt your anxiety wash away, your heart flutter at the way he took you in against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” 

“I hate you so fucking much” but you meant the opposite. You cried harder because why the hell did you mean the opposite of what you just said? 

Jack tilted your chin up gently, his forehead resting against yours. “I hate me too” he whispered, “so fucking much”